Her eyes flicked up to his, cynicism fading again. "Not at first. I mean, I remembered him being there...when mom... He-after he tried to shoot me he was...well, nice, but it wasn't like that after you left. It was like...well, sex..."

Giles rolled his eyes.

"Good sex," she countered, "except for the badness, that is. It made me feel... something. And that was better than the endless empty nothing that had been killing me since I did the horror movie thing...y'know...when Willow so thoughtfully terminated my heavenly happies." She paused then snickered nervously at his dazed expression. "Translation: when I dug myself out of my own coffin."

His expression was grim. "It was no wonder you were emotionally damaged. And instead of having someone you cared about to help you deal with all of the trauma, we all thought we were trying to help restart your life, when all we were really doing was pushing you into more and more stress and pressure."

She shrugged. "You thought you were doing the right thing. You couldn't know that Willow was taking a sabbatical from responsibility of any kind, including financial, or that Dawn was so glad to have me back she spent most of her time find ways to piss me off, criticise me or indulge her newfound klepto-girl hobby. And you especially couldn't know about Spike, or the chip. And there's the little thing about me not telling you about Heaven..."

"Yes, that," he said, surprisingly gently. "Presumably you thought the others wouldn't cope?"

She nodded, surprised and yet not, at his instant understanding. "But I should have told you. I just..."

"Yes, you should. You should have told me a great many things, Buffy." Giles couldn't stop the words that followed, and by the time he'd said them, he no longer wanted to stop them. "There were too many other times when you thoughtlessly rode roughshod over my feelings, even in issues that directly affected me."

Buffy held his gaze, but her own was filled with guilt. She knew exactly which incident was making those green lights flash nastily in his eyes and his voice so cold.

"I made some bad choices when I was a kid..." She rolled her eyes at the frown that formed in his brow. "Okay, I make choices all the time that are stupid or wrong. I know that. They seem right at the time...except I guess they only seem right for me. I'm sorry...truly I am, for hurting you. I never wanted to, ever. The others let me know in their own charming way a long time ago that I'm a bad friend. So I really am so sorry ...for being so incredibly stupid. I-I love all of you, Giles. I always have. I know I've caused a lot of pain but I never meant..."

His face finally gentled. "But you've also been through so much..."

She half smiled. "Thanks, but so have all of you. No more excuses, Giles. No more running away..." The smile faded. "I shouldn't have left."

"Sorry?"

"After I killed Angel. I shouldn't have run away. Even if mom never let me back into the house, I should have come to you. "

He was looking at her, obviously remembering all the badness. "Why didn't you?" He asked curiously.

"I killed the man I loved. My own mother kicked me out of the house. I was wanted for murder. Jenny and Kendra were dead because of me. You were tortured because of me...Will and Xander were hurt...because of me. Xander'd already made it obvious how he felt about me. They're not excuses," she added hastily. "Just reasons. I was a kid and it was just...too much. I couldn't face any of you." Her gaze slid to the not-quite straight fingers of his left hand. "I couldn't deal, not with mom. Not with losing Angel, or with the cost of having him in the first place." She looked up at him again, the atmosphere between them heavy with emotion. "Do you know what it's like to be responsible for so much pain...to be *in* so much pain...and not have any way to fix it...to make it better?"

Their gazes held silently until Buffy's memories and Giles' expression answered the question for her. Frustrated beyond measure at her eternal stupidity, tears rose suddenly in her eyes, mirroring the glitter in his.

"Of course you do," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

They moved together, Buffy leaning against his chest, and Giles resting his cheek on the blonde head as their arms tightened around each other.

"You're such a duffer, Buffy Summers. I don't know how we ever made it through the last seven years," he said against the soft hair. "No, wait, of course I know how we did it: through all the mistakes, the stupidity, the unending soap opera that was your love life, there were still there were two things that didn't change: your courage and the strength of those we love: Xander, Willow...Dawn. Even Cordelia in her time, Oz, Tara, and Anya, bless her. When we stood, we stood together."

Buffy sniffed and looked up, smiling. "Careful, you're getting all sentimental, old guy."

He smiled back. "Perhaps, but sentimental or not, it's all true."

She laid her cheek against his shirt again, enjoying the warmth and strength beneath it.

"Well thank you again, but one of these days I'd like to grow up and be able to be there for you guys as much as you've been there for me over the years." Her tone changed to one of bantering. "This nostalgic looking back at the Buffy badness...of which there is *way* too much...badness *and* looking...wasn't in the brochures for this holiday."

He withdrew his arms unexpectedly and shoved his hands in his pockets. "No, I suppose not." His tone was even, but there was some effort behind it.

Buffy watched him warily. She knew immediately that she'd screwed up, but she really didn't want to let it go this time, especially when even she could sense that she done something to hurt him...again.

"Giles?"

"Mm...yes? W-would you like a fresh tea, perhaps? It has been a rather heavy discussion..." He made a half-hearted attempt to smile to go with the half-hearted humour. "...What with the 'Buffy badness' a-and all."

"Giles," she repeated, silencing him again, "I'm sorry. I spent seven years building walls so I could function...so I could deal if something happened to one of you guys. Seven years of not getting close...not nearly as close as you guys have been to each other. I tried to tell you once before, a long time ago...I couldn't do both. I couldn't be strong or brave or whatever it was I had to be, and do all the crap I had to do, and deal with the possibility of losing any of you as well." She raised a hand when he would have protested. "No, let me finish. When I was a kid, back in high school, I was scared *all the time* that I was going to lose one of you, or that you would get hurt or...maimed...that it would be my fault. And it was killing me. And it was affecting my judgment...*affected* my judgement. It cost lives. We both know my not being able to kill Angel...Angelus cost lives. I never wanted that to happen again...so I withdrew. Built walls. Looked elsewhere, like Riley, for happies. I never loved him. I convinced myself I did, for a while, but I think we both know the only way I could be with him and still do what I had to do is if he wasn't going to be a problem, emotionally."

"A problem? The way Willow, Xander and I were 'problems'?"

"Got it in one," she said flatly. "Bottom line: I know you all wanted more from me. I just didn't know how to give it. I'm still not sure I do. You only have to look at my love life to know how much I suck in that department." She sighed. "I know the walls still come up even when I don't mean them to, which I guess, is what I've been trying to say in my long winded Buffy way. What it doesn't mean is that I don't love all of you beyond the telling of it. I do. I always have. And I miss the way we used to be so much sometimes, it hurts." She was trembling a little as she turned away.

Giles roused himself from his immersion in the things she'd been trying to tell him.

"Buffy, are you all right?"

She shook her head silently. "So many people have died because of me...and now this. All those slayers, Giles, and Anya and...and Spike. I couldn't save them...any of them. It's my fault they're all dead and nothing you can say will change that."

"Yes, they are all dead because of you."

She turned back and looked up at him, her lips parted, startled.

He calmly returned her stare. "Of course you're not to blame for what happened to Anya and Spike, or even Amanda. But as their leader you have to learn to accept responsibility for your decisions without succumbing to irrational guilt. Yes, you and I both know that earlier your judgement was badly affected and that it cost lives. There's no point in me lying about it. And we both know that even though it was ultimately wrong, the mutiny was entirely justified, as was the attempt to ensure that the First would not be able to use Spike against us; wrong, but more than justified at the time. At a time when it was crucial for us all to work together, to trust each other, you did more than raise walls. You simply walked away, and for what? Another shag?"

"This from the guy who made an art form of walking away," she snapped back, caught on the raw again. "I did what I thought was best...made all those damned decisions you wanted me to make, grew up and took charge like you wanted me to...except none of it was good enough. Instead of going behind my back, instead of going all Fletcher Christian when things weren't working out...don't you think it would have been better to just talk? It would have been a whole lot better if I knew I could discuss things with you like the old days, but in case you've forgotten, you've been telling me since I started college that I can't do that anymore: 'Think for yourself, Buffy. Do it yourself, Buffy. You have to stand on your own two feet, Buffy. You're the Slayer...you decide'. Well, I decided...and what did it get me?"

Colour had flooded into Giles' face. "And what exactly did you expect it to get you? You weren't going back to that vineyard because it was the tactically correct thing to do. You were going back there because you were pissed off that Caleb had beaten you the first time and you'd found yourself a rationalization for going back there to try to finish the job. You were going to recklessly endanger all those lives without any proof that anything was going to be gained from it? That is, if anyone even survived!"

"God, you are so full of yourself," she growled, moving toward him. "Righteous, all-knowing Giles."

"Too bloody right," he snapped back. "You were wrong, and since you seem to have forgotten, I wasn't the only one who thought so. Only your precious vampire thought otherwise. The little pissant even suggested that I was acting out of petty jealousy because I was no longer..." He stopped, exasperated, and chagrined at how much he'd let his emotions rule his mouth.

"Spike defended me?"

"More like stuck it to the rest of us," he muttered, annoyed that she sounded so pleased, only to be distracted when her expression completely changed.

"He said that...about you? Did you hit him?"

He looked at her, shocked, but couldn't stop the laugh that followed. "Did I...? Have you forgotten your other piece of breathtaking irrationality? One doesn't shoot at a cannon with a peashooter."

"The chip was killing him," she said through her teeth. "Yes, it was the wrong time...but it was the only time. I knew if he didn't get it taken out then he never would."

"But you also knew that he was still under the control of the First and, as such, incredibly dangerous without that bloody chip. Ultimately you made that choice, not for the greater good, or even his sake. You made it for yourself. If you can't admit that, even now, then you've learned little or nothing from everything that happened."

Buffy stepped right up in his face. "I don't believe this. I found a way to save the world...again...and I even manage to survive this time...and you're still pissed about all that stuff. Old news, Giles! I followed your orders. *I* made a decision, good or bad. And being a Buffy decision: bad...obviously. Live with it. "

He did not back down, instead towering over her. "The question is," he said, green eyes burning into hers, "can you?"

They stared at each other for what felt like an endless time, the electricity in the room almost suffocating.

"He saved the world, Giles," Buffy finally said, her voice quiet.

He exhaled, long and raggedly. "Yes, he did, didn't he? But we aren't really talking about him, here, are we?"

After a beat she shook her head. "I can't believe we survived long enough to defeat the First. I screwed up so much...I did the right thing for the wrong reasons and the wrong thing for the right reasons...and I pleased nobody..."

"Except him."

She shook her head. "Not even him. What he wanted I could never give him. If I wasn't sure before, I knew when I saw Angel again."

Giles' shoulders hunched and his hands slid back into his pockets. "Something happened between...?"

Buffy shook her head again. "It was nice...I basked, even...but God, going there again, after all this time...I loved him, Giles...I loved him so much, but I know now that I'm not her anymore...and I'll never be that girl again. And...and I'm not ready...maybe not ready to be with anyone, but especially not him."

"But you will be some day?"

For a long moment her eyes seemed to gaze into a private world of her own, then she returned to the room and looked up at him.

"I don't think so. A part of me still wants the dream...the schoolgirl romance come true...but the rest of me: the one who had to deal with all the crap after he left, and the one who's made such a mess of her life every moment since then, knows that it's time to move on."

Some of the tension went out of the wide shoulders and he pulled a hand from one of his pockets to remove his glasses.

"Do you have any idea what you want to do, now that you're...free...for the first time since you were fifteen?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged. "I kinda thought actually being here with you was a pretty good start...until the inquisition started." Her tone was teasing, but there was hurt in her eyes. "But I guess, eventually, I'll have to find a place for Dawn and me, get a real job and build a life." Her eyebrows rose and she sighed. "And I thought Slaying was scary."

He smiled, a tender, amused smile. "Nothing is quite as scary as life," he confirmed. "But I know you'll do just fine."

She finally smiled back. "Oh yeah, like I did at being taking-charge gal, or burger-slinging gal...or how low can I sink gal..." She closed her eyes, a divot between them. "Can I go back to when it was just us, and the Slaying was 1-2-3 by the book and I knew that no matter what happened the library was there and when I walked-or ran-in you were going to be there, book in one hand, cuppa tea in the other?" She seemed to pause, lost in memories, for a moment. "The hardest thing in the world about going to college was that you weren't there anymore."

He tilted his head to one side, a patented Giles look of pure cynicism back on his face. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to go 'awww'? Because from where I stood I seemed pretty damned irrelevant."

Her eyes grew bright. "You were the one who told me to go away. You were *damned relevant* to me, but who am I to argue with the great and mighty Watcher when he tells me I have to take care of myself? So I did. Not a crime. Weren't you proud that you made me stand on my own two feet...?" she added sarcastically.

He snorted, exasperated. "Oh yes, I was proud that you threw yourself at the bloody Initiative and that cow Walsh rather than grow up and learn to make your own decisions. And so proud that it almost got you killed. Not nearly as proud as when you decided to kill the only lead you had into my apparently violent disappearance with a nickel-plated letter opener."

She stared at him for a moment, then wheeled and headed for the front door.

"Running again?" he said softly, knowing she would hear, but not whether she would listen.

Buffy froze then slowly turned in spite of herself. He looked tired and hurt, instead of arrogant and pissed, as she'd expected.

"Do you know why I was such an idiot?"

His eyes narrowed then he looked down and shook his head.

"Everything pointed to you being dead. Gone. Nothing made sense anymore. It was like my brain just...stopped. All I could think about was what it would be like without you around."

His head came back up, his eyes searching hers. He didn't say anything, because there was nothing he could say to that. At the time it had seemed so obvious that she was more than happy without him.

Buffy saw the doubt. "How many times did you need me to tell you exactly how much I needed you?" She said almost harshly. "This is me, remember: retardo-girl, the one who can't connect with anyone, but I still managed to tell you...how many times? That I need you, that I couldn't do it without you. Didn't that tell you anything?"

He threw the glasses on the counter. "Believe it or not, it wasn't always about what you needed, although you obviously thought it was; picking us up and putting us down whenever you felt like it, like tools, or toys." His voice changed to a pseudo-version of hers: "Oh, yes, fine, they'll be there when I want them again. In the mean time I'll just pretend they don't exist. My dull-as-ditchwater-testosterone-poisoned boyfriend and his band of merry men are so much more interesting than the friends who've been with me since the beginning, who care about me...who love me."

The moment the angry words left his mouth his hands shoved back down into his pockets and his shoulders drooped again.

This time Buffy blinked, realizing there was more going on than just the bitterness in his voice and the...admittedly...justifiable criticism of her behaviour during that period. Then her eyes lighted on the cold toast.

"My breakfast is all cold and gross," she complained, moving into action. "That wasn't the plan. Tea? I'm making..."

"What? Oh yes, tea. Fine. Milk, two sugars." He looked up as he spoke, realised she'd moved and closed off once again, and sighed wearily.

Buffy's hand stilled on the teapot, her retreat halted mid-stride, her eyes filling with sadness. "I remember, Giles. I really do..."

He wasn't looking at her any more; just sort of staring at his boots, his face closed and inscrutable as it always was when he was hurting. Not sure what to do next, or why she suddenly wanted his arms around her again, almost painfully badly, she focused on the tea making instead.