(notes and disclaimer with part one)

Buffy stood at the bottom of the stairs and listened. What was he doing? Getting dressed, presumably. She waited a few minutes, wanting to give him time to finish, then tentatively climbed a few steps. At the first landing she listened again before continuing.

Giles closed his dresser drawer after pulling out a clean T-shirt and paused for a moment as he heard her nearing the top step. Since he had his back to her she was easy to ignore, for now. He was confounded by her persistence, though. Usually she hated being ignored and would storm off. He steeled himself for another confrontation.

As she reached the top of the stairs he turned, pulling the shirt over his head. He hadn't wanted to look at her, tried not to, but their eyes met as he turned. She looked sad, contrite, and even a little scared. Tearing his eyes away he moved to the armchair near the window and sat. He propped his feet up on the stool, picked up a book, put on his glasses and began to read. Or at least that was the plan. In truth, his mind was running through a litany of arguments he might use in response to what she could say. But he was resolved to remain silent.

Buffy watched him settle into the chair, actively ignoring her. Pretending she wasn't even in the room. She grimaced as she wandered to the opposite side of the room. His dresser was there, and she leaned against it, glancing around. On top lay his keys, spare change, a discarded tie...when was the last time she saw him in a tie? she wondered...a horse figurine carved out of wood, books, and a couple of CDs, which prompted her to look around the room until she spied a CD player, surprised to learn he even had one. Turning back to the dresser, she quickly drew in a breath, and her eyes prickled with emotion at what she had not seen before. Tucked into the mirror was the photo she had given him of the two of them. Underneath, obscured but still discernable, was the photo of the tattoo...the culprit, so to speak.

She took a moment to compose herself then turned to Giles, who was lounging, gracefully, in an overstuffed chair with a book in his hands. Just watching him for a few minutes she was struck by a casualness and an intimacy she had never been privy to before. She knew he couldn't really be as relaxed as he seemed, given the circumstances, but he put up a good front. He had on a clean pair of jeans, and a dark green short-sleeved shirt that gave her a view of his tattoo, something he rarely allowed to be seen. And he was barefoot. She smiled at the sight. His feet reminded her of his hands, large and powerful, yet somehow delicate.

She cleared her throat as an announcement that she was about to speak. She saw his slight movement at the sound. At least he could hear her, she thought.

"I know you probably hate this...me being up here, invading your space after you told me to leave." 'Good work, Buffy,' she thought. 'Remind him of how you showed a lack of respect by ignoring his request, again.' She sighed. There was no response from her Watcher.

"Okay, I'll just talk and assume you're listening...even if you're not." She paused as a thought stuck her. "Actually, it might be easier with you not listening. Or at least with me thinking you're not listening. I won't have to worry that I've said something stupid or used bad grammar. The problem is that even if I pretend you're not listening, you are listening, even though you’re pretending not to. And I know it."

'Buffy logic at its best,' he thought as he tried not to shift in the chair.

She watched him, motionless except for the turn of a page of a book she hoped he was only pretending to read. She uttered another, more silent, sigh and began. "Last night my Mother told me something that you've told me before. And I figured if the two of you...two people I care about…so much..." she spoke the last two words almost in a whisper before returning to her normal voice, "...and who probably know me the best believe it, then I should too. Mom told me that I could be very perceptive when I take the time to listen. And you've told me I can hear things...feel things around me if I take the time to listen."

She paused, unsettled that he could keep up this pretense of ignoring her. Unexpectedly, she realized that although she felt certain he was listening to her words, he was truly ignoring her, so it wasn't a pretense at all. Then she was just unsettled at how easily he could ignore her.

"Usually I talk way too much when I'm stressed like this...sort of feel the need to fill the silence, and I end up saying dumb, thoughtless things." She studied him for a second, wondering if she was boring him or just annoying him even more. "...and you already know I do that, so I'll move on. I decided I'm going to try to go slow and think before I say the words for this."

She began to pace in front of the dresser, then stopped herself when she realized it was merely a substitute for talking too much.

"This afternoon...what you said...I didn't know that's how you saw it. How you saw what I had done. I really was trying to show you I cared, and I know you're not used to that from me. I guess it's like some sort of unwritten rule between us, not to show it."

She let out a sharp laugh, "It reminds me of ...remember that day when Snyder finally let me back in school? I came to the library and gave you a hard time for not welcoming me back with open arms. You said something like... of course I'm glad, it goes without saying... Well, that's the way I think about you. Of course you know I care, it goes without saying. The thing is, I think everybody finds themselves on both sides of that situation. We want to hear it from other people but don't say it often enough to others, assuming it's understood.”

"Why's it so hard to say that stuff? Maybe we take people for granted…that they'll always be there. Or maybe it's basic fear of rejection." Her voice softened. "I was afraid I was losing you. Well, losing us. I know you told me to forget what you said that day, but I couldn't. And then with Olivia around, it all seemed to be going away. I felt lost. Then with Riley…he seemed to be a good way to go. A nice, normal guy. He liked me. I liked him. But I know he isn’t right for me, really, not like it should be. He's a good person, and maybe he was what I needed for a short while but not forever. But I didn't know…don't know how to move on." Buffy cast another glance at Giles, who was still buried in his book. "I don’t understand how I can track and kill vampires without being deathly afraid all the time, but telling someone how I feel puts a knot in my stomach like it's the end of the world. And I, of all people, should know the difference." She paused before continuing. "When I almost killed you…and then I recognized you through your eyes…it was like seeing you a new way. Differently. Everything felt different after that. A good kind of different and I didn't want to lose that."

Buffy realized she was struggling for the right words and was doing badly. Finally it seemed time to tackle the exchange from yesterday. Get it over with. She looked squarely at him and spoke firmly, at first.

"You were right yesterday. The tattoo was for me, not you. The idea came to me over a few days after my birthday, after Ethan and the demon. I played around with it in my mind until it seemed the perfect solution…well, a less than perfect one but still a solution. It seemed like a way for me to have you with me even if you weren't. I was afraid and didn't know what was going to happen to us. I needed you with me. With the tattoo I thought I could feel connected to you again, like having you touching me all the time."

Giles put the book down gently, followed by his glasses and listened to her pour out her heart to him.

"They probably think I'm a nut case at the tattoo parlor, except for this one woman…well, maybe she does too. But she was helpful and listened to my ideas and my ramblings about symbol meanings and how they related to a guy I knew." A small smile flicked across Buffy’s face as she glanced up at Giles.

He wasn’t looking at her but he was clearly listening.

"She actually seemed interested. Then when I came back after it healed she took the Polaroids. I remember sitting there with her, watching the images appear. I must have had a silly look on my face 'cause she turned to me and said, 'he must be a very special man.' I told her, 'yes, he is.' The thing is, even if I could use all the words you use, Giles, I don't think it would be enough to explain how special." Buffy felt her eyes filling with tears. She lowered her head and closed her eyes trying to stop the flow. When she felt more in control she looked out the window at nothing and laughed morosely at herself. "I'm rambling."

A tender voice spoke quietly from the other side of the room. "No, you're not."

Buffy's eyes shot to Giles, who was now looking at her attentively, with warmth in his eyes.

"Tell me," he said, gently urging her to continue.

A small flicker of embarrassment crossed her face, then disappeared as she continued. "She said something…that it was like a gesture of intimacy. I liked that, because that's how it felt to me, exactly what I wanted it to be. And then she commented on how pleased he’s going to be when I tell him." Buffy grimaced as she remembered. "But I told her I wasn't going to tell him. She was sort of shocked. She said, 'but isn’t that the whole reason you had it done, so he would know how much he means to you?' She said she had assumed he would know about it and even see it. Then she shut up. I think she was embarrassed for me."

"That was where I got the idea to show it to you, so we could share it. Then it progressed into a gift. I figured I needed a special occasion for that, you being you and all. Since there wasn't one handy I thought the birthday would be a great thing. I've wanted to have a birthday for you, but you'd never tell me, so I made one up. I made the card, put a bow on the box of doughnuts, and knocked on your door. And, well, the rest is history."

She stared at the floor for this last part of her declaration, then she looked up at him hoping to see his green eyes looking back at her, but he was looking absently toward the floor with his hand resting over his mouth. Clearly, lost in thought.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant that to happen. I don't know how to tell you …I don't know the words for what you mean to me. I just don't want to ever be without you. That's what this horrible tattoo was supposed to say to you." Buffy felt herself straining, part of her wanted to run from the room, from his house. "Can you forgive me?" Her face reflected the hope she held as she watched him for a response.

He turned his head toward her and met her eyes, which were soft and glistening, unsure yet filled with hopeful anticipation. He leaned forward in the chair and reached his hand out to her, beckoning her to him. She walked toward him eagerly but became timid as she grew nearer, finally stopping a few feet in front of him. Giles reached out further, took her hand and pulled her closer. An overwhelming sense of awe and wonder filled him as he looked up at her, holding her hand in his. Moving slowly and cautiously, he placed his hands on either side of her waist and gently urged her to turn. Her eyes brightened as she realized what he wanted. She turned her body to face away from him.

With her back towards him and his hands on her waist, fingers to the front, thumbs to the back, he inhaled deeply to steady the slight tremble in his hands, and slowly slid them up her sides, raising her top, revealing the tattoo.

Buffy stood perfectly still as she felt his gaze on her back, studying the artwork. Inside she felt relief and joy at knowing he finally understood. She was thrilled and trembling knowing that he wanted to see the real thing, not just a photograph. Her breath caught suddenly as she felt the slightest touch. He grazed his fingertips across the exposed image and her body erupted in goosebumps. She held her breath, reveling in the unexpected sensation of his touch. He slowly swept his fingertips back in the other direction.

Giles was in awe of this moment and of her. He never expected this…to see this tribute in the flesh. He felt her catch her breath when he first touched her and hoped he wasn’t frightening her. As gently as he could, he began tracing the outline of the sun with his index finger. As much of it as he could see. Only the upper portion of the tattoo was exposed. The remainder lay below the edge of her skirt. He moved his finger to trace the visible part of the Udjat and felt her begin to relax under his touch.

Time was standing still for Buffy. She was experiencing her own moment of awe followed closely by a delight she never imagined before. Each touch, each move surprised her. Just as she relished his boldness at touching her, he grew even more daring. She felt him tug lightly on the zipper of her skirt. He wanted to see more of the tattoo. She could feel him moving slowly, giving her time to stop him if she chose. She had no desire to stop him and would have told him if she hadn't feared words might break this magic spell they were being drawn into.

After the zipper was lowered, Giles cautiously pulled the edges to the side exposing more of the tattoo. It had a much greater impact in person than in the photograph. He took a moment to relive Buffy's explanation of the icons and what they meant to her. Almost imperceptibly, he slid her skit down an inch so he could see more. Giles kept his left hand on her hip, holding the skirt in place, wanting to make Buffy feel at ease with his actions. With his right hand he began exploring the larger image area with his fingertips. This time he saw the goosebumps form on her back at his touch and he leaned in slightly, letting his breath warm her back.

She sighed inwardly at the luxurious warmth she felt. The heat went straight to her core and flowed to the rest of her body bringing it to life with a tingling sensation. She had no idea anyone or anything could have this effect on her. She knew he couldn’t see the entire tattoo even with this further exploration and a new trust and daring overtook her; she wanted him to see it all. She moved her hand to rest on his left hand. Once there, she slowly pushed his hand down taking the skirt too.

Giles' world suddenly began to move in slow motion. When her hand rested on his it seemed to him as if she was giving her consent and approval of his touch, but any lingering doubts disappeared when she guided his hand and the skirt downward. In the slow motion that had overtaken him, the experience was breathtaking, and he looked up at her in amazement. Her head was tilted back slightly and she was breathing slowly, keeping time with his perceived slow motion.

When her arm was at its full extension and couldn’t reach any further, he took the skirt down the rest of the way, skimming it along her leg, rather than letting it fall. He didn't want to leave any action to chance. He would guide everything as much as she would allow him. Her skirt pooled on the floor around her feet. Giles moved from the chair into a kneeling position on the floor directly behind her. His entire body was closer to her now.

While the tattoo still wasn't completely visible, the sight in front of him was exquisite beyond belief. He was at a loss as he gazed at her. The womanly curves that gave shape to the white silk beckoned to him, but he remained motionless, admiring only with his eyes. A faint smile crossed his lips as he recognized the top edging of white lace. Just as it was in the photo.

To Buffy it seemed forever since he had taken his hands from her body. She feared he had reached the end of his exploration. But her breath froze for a moment in relief as she felt him move closer to her. She could still feel his gaze and it was almost enough. She waited impatiently, willing him on. Just as she thought she couldn't wait any longer she felt a light, almost tenuous pressure of the palm of his hand against her back. She made a noise that couldn't clearly be identified as either a groan or a whimper.

Giles was spurred on, as much by her responsiveness as by his own increasing desire.

His large hand moved deliberately and languorously across her lower back to one side and then to the other as he held her hip with his other hand. She didn't know if the steadying hand was for her or him. After a while she felt the fingers of the hand caressing her back apply more pressure as he flexed them in a massage like motion. This stopped all too soon for her liking, until the feel of his hand turning, rotating until his fingers were pointing downward intrigued her. She drew in a breath and reflexively arched as she felt his hand roam downward, delving under the lace edge, until his fingertips reached the lower edge of the tattoo.

Giles' hand encompassed the entire tattoo and the slight trembling of her body matched his own trembling breath. He relished the feel of her under his hand, but he knew he'd have to move soon. The position was awkward, with his arm wrenched in an unnatural position to allow his hand to rest like this. Reluctantly letting go, he leaned his forehead against her back while his hands grasped her hips. A rush of ragged breath escaped and he felt her shudder in response.

Exploring her hips with his hands, he warmed her back with his breath a moment longer. He skimmed his fingers to the front of her hips and slowly down the front of her legs until touching her ankles. Moving his hands to the outside of her leg, he traced a path back up to her hips and repeated the action. The silky feel of her skin was intoxicating. As he reached her ankles the second time he paused and circled his fingers around her left ankle, urging her to lift her foot. When she complied, he removed her sandal and set it to the side and also moved her skirt to the side. Before lowering her foot his fingers leisurely stroked the arch and ran up the inside to her ankle, resting on a pulse point where he felt the rushing that he also felt within himself. He repeated the process with her right foot and followed by sliding his hands up the outside of her legs until they rested on her hips once more.

Buffy was in a trance as her body hummed with electricity. Basking in the sensuousness of this new experience, she allowed him everything and patiently waited for the moment she could embrace him, as she longed to do.

She felt him rise slowly, sliding his hands up her back until they reached her shoulders as he stood behind her. She didn't move, waiting for him to guide her. His hands left her shoulders. She heard a rustling noise and felt a movement of air behind her. Anticipation and desire were burning in her as she waited, not knowing what he was doing. Suddenly she sensed him moving his feet, and she looked down to see him slide his right foot next to hers, nestling up close so their bare feet touched. His left foot took its place on the other side of her. At the same moment she felt him settling himself against her back. Instinctively she leaned her body into him and let out a rush of breath as she felt her shoulders resting against his bare chest. The bare skin of her shoulders touching his bare skin. She felt hot and cold at the same time as she leaned her head back against him, searching for greater contact. She felt his fingers touching her fingers and then quickly glide up her arms causing shivers and small sounds she didn't know she was capable of. His hands lingered at her shoulders, caressing until he glided back down her arms much more slowly.

The silky skin and feather fine hair on her arms felt like velvet to Giles. He touched her like this again and again and again, reveling in both the tactile experience and sounds she was making, marveling that he caused this in her. He felt his own passion for her rising at a pace he didn't want to resist and he answered it by snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her body firmly against his.

Buffy melded her body to his and gasped as she felt a part of him she'd never known before pressing into her lower back, just about where the tattoo was. She moved her arm over his, the one enclosing her waist and lifted her head up, and in, toward him, seeking more of him. Giles lowered his head and brushed his lips against the soft skin of her shoulder.

They were lost to the world. Aware only of each other.

It was understandable neither heard the knocks on the front door followed by the door opening and closing.

It was only on the second calling out of 'Giles' that they were both abruptly pulled from their shared trance. They froze, trying to discern what was going on. Buffy clasped her hand tighter against his, her startled heart racing. Giles pulled her protectively tighter to him and moved his mouth to her ear whispering a barely audible, "shhhhh." They remained like that for a moment, Giles' warm breath caressing her ear as they both listened to the sounds emanating from below. They heard footsteps moving into the living room and his name called again: Willow’s voice.

Buffy almost groaned in frustration. Giles whispered a reassuring, "Shhhh. She'll leave." His confidence bolstered her and she began to melt again when she felt his lips and tongue caressing the outer edges of her ear. She shivered and let out a breath.

Each felt a wave of relief along with a renewed anticipation when they heard the door open—until they heard it slam, trailed by Xander’s voice.

"Willow, where’s the G-man?" Xander asked, followed by a bellow. "Giles!?"

"Damn," Giles hissed, slowly straightening up. He stepped back slightly from her, his hands moving to her shoulders, Buffy whimpering quietly as she slumped in defeat.