PART SEVEN: SECRETS

The waiting room was empty, except for one tired looking man, sitting in the corner, paging through an outdated Time magazine. Occasionally he would get up and ask the nurse a question, only to return to his seat in frustration.

He took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. The whole way to the hospital, Buffy had been rambling on about this child, and how it was her only link to her him, or who he used to be. He rested his elbows on his knees, covering his face. Was it possible that he had made a grave mistake in his attempts to alienate his slayer? Nothing good had come from it so far, he had suffered, and apparently, she had suffered even more. He pictured her tear streaked face < "it's all I have left of you.." >

He hadn't even considered this particular consequence of their night together. Of course he hadn't been careful, in their ardor the two hadn't even thought twice about anything but being together. That fact was confounding. He had an excuse, had been on the candy, but Buffy...... what would make her so irresponsible? What would make her behave with such reckless abandon?

Giles was taken by surprise at the relief he experienced at the sight of a familiar figure coming down the hall towards him. He'd hardly seen the boy since their trip, so carefully had they all avoided him. He couldn't blame them. He hadn't made it easy, treating them with the same coolness that their friend received, ignoring their hurt expressions and pitiful clamoring for his attention.

"Hi." Xander had run the rest of the way to him. "How is she?" He wore an unbuttoned jacket, and the clothes underneath appeared to be pajamas. Giles hadn't told him on the phone what was had happened, not knowing if they were aware of her condition. He actually didn't know much about what was going on with any of them these days, and though that had been his plan, it bothered him now.

"I don't know." He muttered with irritation. "They won't tell me anything."

"What happened?" Xander asked. "Was she bitten?"

Giles clenched his jaw, shaking his head.

"Stabbed?"

"No!" Giles faced the boy. "She's.... she..... She's not in any danger." Xander showed no signs of letting it rest.

"So what's the what?" He asked, calmer now, noting that Giles had dropped the machine-like attitude, and was regarding him as he had in the past; a friend. "Oh, you're over your big "hating us all" phase?" He asked sarcastically, but the older man could see the gratefulness in his eyes.

Willow came flying around the corner, running up to the two of them. "Tell me." She said breathlessly, bracing herself for the worst. She shed her jacket and bag, dropping them on the hard plastic chair.

"Giles! You're–you're......talking to us." She belatedly realized, beaming for a second. "What I meant was.... how's Buffy?"

"Perhaps we should sit down." He moved a few chairs into a triangle, so that they were all sitting facing one another. When they were comfortably seated, he looked from the girl, to the boy, then back to the girl again. They showed no signs of ill will towards him, a blessed gift that he knew he did not deserve. He fingered a styrofoam cup that he'd been holding since he'd drained it of the bitter hospital coffee, peeling off sections piece by piece. How would he present this situation to them?

"Well, I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come right out with it...... It appears as though- well, when I was.... Buffy and I, we, we were......... and we didn't........ now she's...." He stopped, wondering where his usually sharp intellect had disappeared to.

"Well I'm sure glad you decided to come right out with it." Xander remarked, drawing a glare from the redhead.

He sighed. They obviously didn't know. He was irrationally angry with Buffy. She had a wonderful support system here, why hadn't she leaned on them? He, of course, hadn't been there for her but these two would've been. Would've helped her shoulder the burden.

"I take it that you two are not aware of Buffy's........ condition?" He asked them, holding his breath.

Willow was the first to understand. "Oh.....ohhhhh." She nodded, getting a faraway look in her eyes, then shaking her head as if to rid it of whatever image had crept into her mind.

Giles exhaled. They weren't, as Buffy would say, "wigging out." He saw the doctor approaching and pushed his chair back, rising.

The doctor eyed them in curiosity. An odd looking trio, he thought. A boy in his pajamas, a redhead who appeared to be fairly normal, and this worn looking British gentlemen who'd been pestering the nurses ever since the young lady had arrived.

"Are you Mr.-" he looked at his clipboard. "-Giles?"

"Yes, may I see her now?" He couldn't hide his desperation.

"Are you her father?" The doctor asked.

"No." Giles answered curtly. He could see the questions in the doctors eyes, but remained silent. He owed no explanations, and it was likely that the physician wouldn't believe him anyway. The other man's expression turned disapproving as he motioned for the watcher to follow him, updating him on Buffy's condition as they walked.

She was sleeping. He sat on the edge of her bed, careful not to disturb her. If she awakened, she might not let him stay, and right now he needed to just be with her. He put his hand to her cheek, it was damp and sticky, indicating that she probably cried herself to sleep. Taking her hand in his own, he brought it to his lips, beginning to realize how destructive his actions had been. Separating himself from her hadn't helped them, it had damaged them both.

He allowed himself to speculate on why losing him had been so crushing to her. <She's in love with me.>

As incredible as it sounded, it would explain why she'd slept with him in the first place, and he'd had some trouble believing that it was due merely to Ripper's irresistible charms.

She stirred, and he squeezed her hand to let her know he was there.

"Giles.." She didn't have to open her eyes to know it was he. Her eyes flew open, locking with his own as reality struck. For the first time in months, he didn't look away, but she didn't notice. She pulled the covers up to her chin, trying to brace herself for the chilly lecture that was sure to come. He would be angry, yes. But it didn't really matter anymore.

"Did you talk to the doctor?" She asked, looking down at her drab gown and stiff, faded blankets. Then she noticed his hands holding her own, with a warmth she hadn't felt in so long it was almost unbearable. She felt her lower lip begin to tremble, and turned her head so that she was looking at the wall. If she saw him, she would surely fall apart. <Again, Buffy? Come on! You're supposed to be the slayer.>

"I spoke with the doctor." He was saying. "Everything is fine with the.......... " He broke off, not able to yet say the words. "Everything is fine."