Buffy sighed. They'd been in this stuffy room for hours now, getting nowhere. She sat at an old, peeling, wooden table with some doctors and a policeman- a local sheriff by the looks of him.

She had no recollection of how she'd gotten there or who these people were, and, more alarming, she hadn't been able to tell them her own name.

Directly across the table sat an older British man who she'd never seen before. The doctors were taking turns interrogating him, turning their questions to her when they grew frustrated with his lack of knowledge. Apparently, she and the Englishman had been found together, unconscious, and when revived, unable to remember a thing.

She stared at him until she noticed that he was staring back with the same curious intensity. She quickly looked down at the table, tracing a spot where someone had carved their initials. His eyes were green.

"Okay, let's go over it again." The sheriff said, shuffling some papers. <Not again!> She felt a sudden urge to jump over the table and drive...something...through his chest. Her eyes widened at this shocking thought. <Whoa! Maybe I don't want to know more about myself.>

"So.." he pressed on. "What we do know is that the two of you checked into the Traveler's Lodge motel two nights ago…registered under the name 'Brad Majors.'" He looked up from his notes, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "We're thinking that may be an alias." Giles looked helplessly at Buffy, who shrugged at the implied question. "Told the clerk you were traveling with your daughter." He motioned towards Buffy, keeping his eyes on the spiral bound notebook that he'd been writing in.

"And you had a car, which is now missing. We'll give the two of you a ride back to the motel and let you know when we find something out." Buffy jumped to her feet, eager to be out from under such close scrutiny. The sheriff gave Buffy an awkward pat on the shoulder. "We'll figure this all out." He assured her unconvincingly.

"You two are lucky..." the sheriff said as he stood. "We have ourselves a killer on the loose, and it looks like you two almost ended up being the next victims. Yep, a small town like this with our very own serial killer. It's a darn shame."

**********

Giles opened the door to the dim, dingy motel room. He turned apprehensively to Buffy, then entered, looking around, feeling disappointed when nothing came rushing back to him. Buffy followed and closed the door, flipping on the lamp before staring at her surroundings blankly.

She sat on the bed, running her fingers over the faded, tacky bedspread, brushing off some crumbs. "Well, two separate beds, both slept in...that answers my first nagging question." She muttered, not loud enough for her companion to overhear.

"So..." She called in the direction of the bathroom, where he was rummaging around in their stuff. "I guess I can call you dad..." It didn't sound familiar, but then again, neither did anything else.

He stepped out, looking as confused as she felt. took off his glasses, and rubbed his hand over his weary looking face. "Yes, I suppose that's one thing we can..." He shook his head. "..not remember."

Buffy pulled at the knob on the night table attached to the wall. The drawer stuck, and she gave it a frustrated yank, causing the entire nightstand to rip from the wall, taking a large section of the wall with it.

"Oh my..." The low, stunned voice came from behind her.

She turned, still holding the table in her hand, before quickly trying to hide it behind her back. He simply stood there, gaping in shock.

"You can't seriously think that I don't see that piece of furniture you're holding, not to mention the enormous hole in the wall." he asked her incredulously.

"Uhh...this?" she put down the nightstand. "It just kind of...fell off." He continued to watch her in disbelief. "What?" she snapped.

"Nothing." he replied quickly, trying to appease her, somewhat fearing another display of her obviously abnormal strength.

He watched the girl as she sat on the floor, unzipping a suitcase. She probably felt as off as he did, not even recognizing your own belongings-it was perplexing, to say the least.

He couldn't help but notice her lovely features and smooth, toned skin as he watched her opening the bag, her hair falling forward, blocking his view of her face. As he moved to get a closer view, he saw her whole body jerk, then freeze.

"This is our stuff?" she said quietly, before shouting. "Oh my God! We're freaks! You, me, both of us! We're two freaks who apparently have a huge weapon fetish...at least I hope that's all it is...Look!" She turned suddenly, thrusting a large sword in his direction.

"Ah!" Giles jumped back in surprise, losing his balance. He fell and landed sprawled on the floor, regarding the girl with suspicion. She covered her mouth to conceal a giggle.

"Sorry." she squeaked, finding great pleasure in his frustrated, distrusting expression. "Come see." she added, losing the smile for the sake of his ego.

He knelt beside her, lifting an item out of the bag. It was a crossbow, and from the way he handled it, he had experience using it. Underneath it , they found a pile of wooden sticks, sharpened at the ends, swords, crosses, and a cornucopia of other oddities.

She sneaked a look at him as he ran his fingers over the crossbow thoughtfully. "Do you remember anything?" she asked hopefully.

"No..." he answered slowly. "It has a familiar feel to it, though. Quite comforting, actually."

"Oh, great. What kind of person gets warm fuzzy feelings from a deadly weapon?" she snorted.

She brightened, giving him a smile. "Hey...I think I like to make fun of you!"

He didn't answer, nodding absently. What would they be doing with this type of equipment? Certainly not anything legal.

"So...what do we know?"

She bit her lip, thinking hard. "Well...we're freaks..." she mumbled. "But I guess we already covered that."

He instinctively gave her a stern, frowning glare. "We don't know any such thing. We know that we're in Nebraska, that we checked into this motel room, and that we're together."

"You're... my father." She offered, and he nodded.

"Yes, it would seem so."

They fell into silence, looking at one another. She was searching for anything in his face, anything that could fill the empty void inside her. He had a nice face, <very nice> and his eyes seemed to see right through her as he did his own searching. She had to look away, a little embarrassed by the blush creeping onto her face. <Uh-oh. Go away, bad thoughts!> When she looked back at him, he was smiling at her knowingly. Her stomach did a little flip-flop.

"Something tells me that despite the sheriff's comments, I am not your father." he said softly, not taking his eyes from hers.

"Oh really?" she asked hopefully. <Duh.> He had felt it too, then. "Why do you say that?" she asked playfully, as he moved closer, close enough to touch her. She held her breath.

"Isn't it obvious? Your accent..." he told her, brushing a lock of her hair from her face. His fingers brushed her cheek lightly. "You're American." he finished, enjoying her fallen expression. She was too beautiful, turning her disappointed eyes downward, as her lower lip pushed forward slightly in an almost imperceptible pout.

"Oh." she said flatly, stepping away from him. "I'm gonna go wash up."

"Wait." he called after her as she disappeared into the bathroom. It was a confusing situation, but there had been no need for him to bait her like that. Just as he began to think that she hadn't heard him, the girl stepped out from the doorway, her eyebrows raised as though waiting for an apology. But there was really nothing to apologize for. After all, what had passed between them in that moment wasn't tangible, it had no name; therefore, it couldn't be mentioned.

Still, he'd made her uneasy, and felt he should say something. "I..."

She waited, her expression softening slightly.

"There are some clean towels in the closet." he finished, the apology in his tone rather than his words. She accepted, gracing him with a smile before closing the door behind her.

*********

By the time Buffy stepped out of the shower, she found herself feeling strangely lightened. One good thing about losing your memory is that things are suddenly very simple. No burdens to bear, no complicated relationships...except for this man on the other side of the door, of course. And the thought of him definitely wasn't a mood killer. <No, definitely not.> She smiled as his face entered her thoughts, and hummed as she rummaged through her makeup bag looking for some lotion. If she were going to be stuck with someone, he was definitely not her last choice.

The room was chilly in contrast to the steamy bathroom when she opened the door. Buffy counted her plush robe and slippers a blessing as she came out.

He stood at the sink, a towel wrapped around his waist, shaving. A smile playing on her lips as she feasted her eyes on, first, his reflection in the mirror, then the view she had from behind. As he lowered his razor to the stream of water rushing from the faucet, Buffy caught a glimpse of a dark image on his arm. Without thinking, she stepped forward and caught his wrist in her grasp, turning his arm to get a better view.

He instinctively pulled away from her, but she didn't let go, instead looking up at him with honesty, asking permission. His eyes reflected a tiny amount of fear at first, but only for a second.

"You're strong." he commented, following her gaze down to the tattoo on the inside of his arm. She traced her finger from the crook of his elbow, following the twisted emblem up to where it ended, still holding tightly to him.

"I know," she whispered. "We're different." A long silence passed as she stared at the mark under her fingers. "We're different than other people. But the two of us, we're the same. I can tell...can't you?"

He nodded, watching her cautiously. He'd first felt their connection in the room where they'd sat with the sheriff, even from across the table, even without words.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked, tracing the tattoo again with her thumb. Slowly relaxing her grip, she slid her hands down his arm until they reached his hand. There, she found a perfect fit for her own.

"No." he answered, distracted when she entwined her fingers with his. A slight tug brought him closer. "But it could prove helpful in discovering our identities...we'll have to find out what it is." She nodded, some of the hair that framed her face brushing his chest as she looked down at their hands. His free arm went around the girl, holding her to him tightly. He somehow knew that this was what she wanted, and that she wouldn't resist.

Buffy allowed herself to relax into his arms and leaned her head against his chest. She felt his hands gather her cold wet hair away from his body, pushing it to the side. She closed her eyes at the feel of his fingers softly touching her neck. <Wow, fast mover> she thought nervously.

"Did you see this scar?" he asked.

"What?" She pulled away slightly. "Scar?" Buffy turned to the mirror. Sure enough, in the place where his fingers had caressed her skin was a ragged whitish looking scar. She frowned, an image of her neck being ripped open sneaking into her head. "Gross...you know, you have a lot of scars, too..." she trailed off, not really knowing where she was going with that comment.

"Well, considering what's in our suitcases, I'm not surprised." he commented, standing behind her as they looked in the mirror. "We've probably been involved in...some sort of violence."

They stared at their reflections for a while. "Oh! Oh...oh no!" Her eyes were wide with shock as she shook her head furiously.

"Don't you get it? We're the killers! The sheriff...he said there was a killer, and...well...do the math! Look at our goody bag of weapons. What do you think those are for!? Unless we're contenders on the Olympic crossbow and stake team, we have a serious problem here!"

She gazed into the mirror, looking from his face, to hers, then back again. He did the same. Buffy tilted her head, staring at her features intently. "Hmm. Not what I pictured a serial killer looking like."

"Oh, really," he said, raising an eyebrow. "What did you imagine one to look like?" His expression was one of amusement.

"Well..." she began, still regarding her own face with morbid fascination. "I guess, I thought a little more like..." She smiled helplessly. "John Tesh?"

When she saw his face, she quickly continued. "Well, they say it's always the ones you least suspect."

Buffy's joking was only a cover for her true, troubled thoughts. "I don't want to hurt anyone," she said, her voice a quiet plea.

His head bowed down to look at her and, for the first time, he caught the troubled expression in her eyes.

"Nor do I." he said solemnly. "We don't have to hurt anyone." He tried to ignore the nagging doubts in his heart about his words. Why should he tell her that when he'd seen the mark upon his arm, he'd been filled with a mixture of dread and regret? The closest thing he'd had all day to a memory, and it was a dark image. Was he capable of taking a life? Possibly.

"What are you thinking?" she asked him, the negative thoughts not slipping past her.

Giles leaned down further, planting a kiss on her forehead and smiling at her shy expression. "Nothing." he lied. "I was just thinking that perhaps I should get dressed." Her gaze dropped to his bare chest, then the towel around his waist. <Or undressed> she thought, her innocent smile contradicting what was really going on in her head.

As Giles showered and dressed, Buffy went through her smaller suitcase, despairing over the lack of selection. Finally, she settled on a beige tank top with matching drawstring pants. Not knowing if they were actually pajamas or not, she decided that they would do, since they were light and comfy. As she dug around for some socks, her hand closed around a piece of paper. She pulled it out, and the neat, feminine handwriting caught her eye. Slowly she unfolded the note and read:

Your names are Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles. If you don't remember anything, don't worry. Stay where you are. Your friends are coming to help you. Don't go anywhere or talk to anyone. Your friends will explain everything when they come.

"Buffy," she whispered the word, turning it over in her mind, examining it from every angle. Buffy. Not even a glimmer of recognition, but that didn't squelch the joy she felt at finally having a name. And friends, at that!

Giles emerged from the bathroom, barefoot, wearing casual pants and a towel draped around his neck. His glasses were gone, leaving him looking simultaneously vulnerable and dangerous. Buffy smiled, overwhelmed with optimism. Things were looking up.

"Rupert..." she tested, watching his expression. Nothing, except a mild look of confusion. She handed him the note, waiting as his eyes skimmed over the brief message. When he finished, his eyes met hers.

"Buffy" He said thoughtfully, and she decided that her name sounded beautiful when he spoke it. "Well, Buffy..." He tried the new word again, and she liked it even more the second time around. "It looks like there's nothing to do but wait."

Buffy pointed the remote at the television and began to flip through channels. "Believe it or not, I don't even want to *try* to figure out what is going on here. I know that it involves weirdness of the largest kind, and that's enough for me." She turned away from the TV to Giles for a moment. "Come... relax... watch," she ordered.

He complied, piling some pillows up next to her and leaning back. She let the channel rest on a station that played music videos, and Giles closed his eyes, planning on getting a chance to doze. But Buffy wanted to chat.

"What do you think we are?" she asked. Even without opening his eyes, Giles knew she was inches away from his face, looking down at him in that curious, expectant way that he'd grown used to by now. The expression that suggested that he had all the answers, and could make everything better.

"Hmm." He kept his eyes closed. Well they were most likely some type of felons, but that topic disturbed her, so he couldn't say that. Maybe she meant their relationship to one another, and in that case he was even less certain. With a sigh, he answered. "I don't know. But, if I had to make an educated guess... a man and a woman staying in a motel together, what do you think?

"Oh" was all she could say.

********

"It's been a week!" Xander said with enthusiasm. "They're in trouble!" He couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice. This was the happiest he could ever remember being while in the confines of his basement dwelling. Willow gave him a stern frown.

"Xander..." she began cautiously.

"Ah ah ah!" he corrected, shaking a finger in her direction. "No buts. Giles specifically said, if they're not back in a week, and haven't called, it's time to bring out key guy... And what do you know?" He dramatically looked down at his shirt, placing a hand on his chest. "Here he is!"

Willow rolled her eyes, wondering if he would ever get over his one moment of glory. Apparently not today, as he was already straightened to his full height, pacing as he thought aloud.

"Okay, so this demon they went out to find is the memory sucking type. Obviously they didn't kill it, which means that they don't know anything." He stopped for a minute, then grinned. "Giles doesn't know anything...I know more than Giles!" Willow's look banished the proud digression. "Okay, sorry. So now *we* need to kill this thing. You and I are going... to... kill... this... demon." With every word, his tone grew more despondent as realization set in. A wave of nausea hit the boy.

Willow gave him a sympathetic pat. "It's different going off to fight evil when Buffy and Giles aren't with us, isn't it?" she asked. "It's less of an exciting adrenaline rush, and more like a great big, terrifying rush for the Pepto Bismol."

Xander nodded, sinking down onto his couch.

*******

"Hurry up, Rupert!" Buffy complained as Giles put on his shoes, still not fully awake. She'd let him sleep for a while, taking the opportunity to study him, and go through his things, but boredom had won out. She needed to get out. Besides, he hadn't had anything interesting in his suitcase but a few books, and they weren't even in English. She’d taken the time to look through the pictures, coming away none too pleased. After viewing the drawings that his books had contained, combined with his shady looking tattoo, it was pretty obvious that Rupert Giles was a serious Satan Worshiper.

"I'm not certain that going out is a good idea," He warned for the third time, pulling his shoestring tightly. "The note said to stay here. It may not be safe."

"I'm not worried. You won't let anything happen to me." Her attempt at stroking his ego didn't work. He stood, reluctantly sliding his arms into his coat.

"On the contrary...your strength seems to greatly exceed my own. If anything I'm the one who needs protection."

Giles turned, and, in synch with Buffy, reached for the weapons bag. They froze when their heads almost collided.

"What are you doing?" They demanded in unison, each drawing away from the other. Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and returned the accusing stare that he was throwing her way.

"You said you didn’t want to hurt anyone," he reminded her dryly.

"I don't!" She swung into full defensive mode. "I was just going to-to- put some of those sharp wood thingys in my pocket! What were you doing? Geez, we're only going out for a bite to eat, not looking to put another notch on our belts. Can't you check your sociopathic tendencies at the door for one night?"

"Me?!" He shot back. "I hope that nobody makes you angry while we're out, should they meet with the same fate as the bloody bedside table! I don't fancy going to prison just because you can't control your..." He stopped, breaking off as he considered the hurtful words that had almost escaped his lips. They couldn't blame one another for things that they couldn't understand or control.

Even though he’d curbed his words, their meaning was hanging obviously between he and Buffy. He wondered how fragile she was, and braced himself for tears or an outburst of anger. She did neither, instead lifting her chin in defiance, daring him to finish the sentence. It was as though they’d done this a thousand times before; Buffy giving him this rebellious glare, leaving him at a complete loss for words.

Giles was suddenly struck with understanding of some kind. Their places were clear to him, the part they each played in their relationship, and he knew at that instant that she was his. And that he belonged to her as well, with or without memories.

Overcome with a pleasant possessiveness, he took the girl by surprise, pulling her up against him. His hand ran over the back of her head, through the blond locks, and twisted slightly, so that her hair wrapped around his fingers, giving him a degree of control. He used this to his advantage, pulling ever so gently, guiding her mouth to his own.

The expression she'd held was imprinted on his mind as he closed his eyes, feeling her sigh as their lips rubbed together, softly at first, then with more certainty. It had been an expression that couldn't be construed as anything but wanting. She wanted this, and that gave him the courage to go further. He used the hand in her hair to deepen the kiss, while the other hand took liberties that Giles without amnesia would've never taken, no matter how many times he'd wanted to. A nagging thought crept in. Something telling him to stop, that he shouldn't be doing this. He defied this idea by pressing his body against hers to show her exactly where he wanted this to go. Buffy responded eagerly, making a little impatient sound when he didn't do anything more.

He wrenched away from her with great effort, turning away from her, trying to banish these whispers that were so contradictory to his desires.

His body was ardently protesting the loss of her heat and all it promised, but as much as he wanted to touch her, it was almost a second nature demanding that he deny these feelings.

But that was just his mind, and without reasoning to back up those misgivings, his body won out. They would be together. But not right now.

Together they left into the night.

*************

"I'm quite positive that this isn't my usual dessert of choice." Giles remarked, trying to lick around the edges of his ice cream cone before it melted. "I feel rather ridiculous doing all this slurping just to keep my hands from getting covered in sticky-"

Buffy interrupted. "Stop complaining." She said happily, walking alongside him with her own ice cream. "I am quite positive that this is my usual dessert of choice, and I rather enjoy slurping at my fingers." She mimicked his tone and inflections perfectly. He gave her a look indicating that, while offended, he was still properly amused by her comment.

The street they strolled down was obviously the main street of the tiny town. Giles had taken Buffy's hand as they'd started, hardly letting go at all. She liked it. Every once in a while, some of the townspeople would greet them, waiting until they'd passed to whisper about the poor amnesia-stricken couple. By the time the pair reached the end of the street, they were both more than a little anxious to get back to their room.

A tremor of nervousness passed through Buffy. True, the two of them shared an obvious chemistry, not to mention a history, but this felt new. Had she ever even been with a man? She tried to remember, but it was pointless.

All thoughts on this matter were interrupted as a man crossing the street caught her attention. He was dressed as most of the townspeople, in blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, but something about him was different.

Buffy's stomach twisted and her heart began to pound. Overcome with bloodlust, her hand flew to the stake in her pocket.

"Noo." she breathed in horror, and Giles turned to see the source of her upset. All he saw was a man slipping into the shadows.

When he turned back to question her, she was gone. He found her in an alley, her back pressed up against the wall, her eyes tightly closed. Her lips moved silently in some sort of desperate petition.

He stopped short when he noticed the weapon clutched tightly in her fist. < A breakdown? > He wondered, surprised by his own calm.

"Buffy." He said firmly, standing slightly away from her, just in case. "Tell me what happened."

Her lips stopped moving, and after a few seconds, she looked at him with fearful eyes.

"I can't!" She shook her head vigorously. "You'll hate me!"

Although she still held the stake, Giles stepped forward and held her face gently in his hands. "No. That would never happen. Even without my memories, I know that I loved you." He meant what he said, she could tell, every word was spoken deliberately and with feeling.

"You'll be afraid." She argued miserably.

"No." He repeated. "You have valid reasons to fear me. Yet you choose to trust, and I choose the same." He waited.

Buffy fidgeted a little, her eyes darting around, trying to find a less scary way to tell him. There was none. But she did feel safe enough to tell him. "That man... When I saw him, I wanted to..." She held up the stake, and Giles nodded understanding, his face showing no signs of judgement.

"You don't understand!" She added. "I really wanted to!" He still didn't appear shocked, which frustrated the girl for some reason.

She tried again. "I was Sylvester, he was Tweety Bird... of course, I wasn't picturing him between two slices of bread or anything, but still..."

At least this speculation drew an expression from Giles, even if it was one of confusion.

"Let's go back." He suggested, taking the stake from her. She allowed him to take it, but caught his hand before he could go.

"Thank you." She said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist. "This is kinda scary. But a lot less scary with you here." She slid her hands up over his back, pressing with her fingertips to feel the underlying muscles. She knew that they should get going, but her hands slipped under his shirt to feel him for real.

Instead of satisfying her curiosity, the feel of his bare skin brought forth a wave of desire. He'd shown her earlier in the hotel that he wanted her, so now she felt brave enough to show him the same. She brought her hands around to the front of his t-shirt and pushed the material up, exploring with her fingers. She leaned in to place a few lingering kisses on his chest. Again, the contact only made her want more. Buffy brought her lips to his body once more for a kiss, this time using her tongue to taste him.

Giles had just been standing there until then, passively allowing her to do as she pleased. But when he felt her tongue on his skin, at the same time, her fingers fumbling around at the snap of his pants, he moaned in frustration. There was no way that they could finish this here, not the way he wanted to.

"Buffy" he admonished, grasping her hand before she could get his zipper down, in which case he'd probably end up standing here letting her stroke him into ecstasy in a few short minutes.

"Not here." He said.

"But somewhere." She agreed.

"Yes."

They sealed the promise with a long kiss, almost abandoning their previous decision several times before they started back to their room.

***********

The door had barely closed behind them when there was a knock. They shared an expression of despair before Buffy answered.

The girl and boy who stood before her weren't familiar, but the redhead's face lit up with happiness. "Buffy!" She threw her arms around her friend's neck. "You're okay!" She pulled away, looking repentant. "I mean, of course you're okay, I knew you would be. But now I can see for myself, you and..." She looked around the room, searching. "...Giles! Oh, good." Willow realized that the two were staring at her blankly.

"Oh, right. You don't remember." She smiled. "I'm Willow... Your best friend." She said, slowly and much louder than necessary.

"Will...she's lost her memory, not her hearing." Xander reminded her. "And I'm hurt... What am I, then? Chopped demon entrails?"

"Sorry, Xander." She turned back to Buffy. "He's our best friend, too." This comment was accompanied by rolling of her eyes.

Giles stepped forward impatiently. "You know us. What can you tell us?"

"Giles, we'll tell you everything later, but right now we have to go ki- do something to help you get your memories back. We'll be back soon, I promise, and we'll tell you everything."

Buffy nodded. "You know about me?" She asked. "About..." she pulled a stake from her pocket. "..about these?"

Willow, in answer, patted the bag that hung from her own shoulder, causing a telling clank of metal and wood. "I know."

Buffy gaped in shock. This sweet looking pair?

"Don't worry." Willow said reassuringly. "We'll be back."

Xander held the door open for her as they left.

"Did you leave the letter just in case?" She asked.

"Yep..." He took the heavy bag from her. "Just in case."

***************

Giles locked the door behind them, taking the time to draw the curtains as well When he came back to the bed, Buffy had undressed, and was lying on her bed, trying her best to appear inviting and seductive. She didn’t have to try very hard. Maybe they weren’t in love, but they were both the only thing that the other had, making this all the more important to them.

"I was going to ask you what you wanted to do," He said, not taking his eyes off of her as he removed his own shirt and shoes. "But it appears that you’ve already answered my question."

He knelt above her, and not wanting to seem overeager, caressed her arms and shoulders a bit before finally bringing his hands to her breasts. His mouth immediately followed. Buffy watched him as he enjoyed her body. He took his time, touching her everywhere, just as he’d been wanting to since he’d lain eyes on her earlier that day. It seemed like a very long time ago.

She said his name, and arched her back, wanting him to move on. He obeyed, moving his hands down over her stomach, to her thighs, purposely taking longer than necessary.. His hands crept up her thighs, and finally his fingers found their way to the spot that made her breathe a throaty, "Yes, Rupert..." She trailed off, making more satisfied noises.

At the sound of her voice, he was painfully aware of his erection straining against his pants, begging to be touched. He kept stroking her with his now wet fingers, at the same time unfastening his pants, sliding them off. He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his arousal, rubbing her clit slowly. Buffy moaned at the sensation of heat, as well as the erotic suggestion. Part of her wanted him to plunge himself into her, but another part wanted to prolong the sensations that he brought forth, rubbing his entire, thick, hard length against her.

She kissed him, trying to convey every ounce of gratitude, passion, and possibly love, that she felt to him. It seemed as though he was doing the same as he sighed against her mouth, because she felt something. Something that she was certain she’d never had before.

They rolled together, at her initiation, so that she sat atop him, looking down. She paused for a moment, and put her hand to his cheek, trying to remember.

***********

"Now!" Willow yelled, summoning all of her powers to paralyze the demon. She’d only be able to hold him for a few seconds, and it was vital that Xander’s aim be completely accurate on the first try. They didn’t want to end up like Buffy and Giles.

He aimed the crossbow, not his usual weapon. He didn’t pause to wipe the sweat trickling down his brow. There was no time.

************

Buffy lowered herself onto her lover’s body, rubbing her breasts across his chest, stopping only when his mouth captured hers. His hands felt hot and rough as he grasped her hips and began moving her at his will, back and forth, bringing what had so far been a leisurely pace up to a rapid, pleasure seeking rhythm.

He could hear her breath coming in shallow pants near his ear. She didn’t want it to end. It was wonderful, too overwhelming to absorb right now. His hands were still guiding her, digging into her flesh as they got closer to the edge.

***************

The arrow whizzed through the air, making a cracking sound as it penetrated the demon’s skull. He howled in pain before slowly turning to stone.

Willow collapsed, exhausted from the spell. Following Giles’ instructions to the letter, Xander raised a sledgehammer over his head, bringing it down with shattering force upon the now inanimate demon’s head.

**********

It hit them both at the same time, full knowledge of themselves and one another. They both froze.

<No. Oh, no!> Buffy thought frantically. Not Giles. Anybody but him.

"Giles" she whispered. It was meant to be a question, a plea, but came out as more of a sigh. He didn’t answer, mortified in his own right.

There was no graceful way to extract themselves from this situation, but Buffy needed to try. It was intense. Not just what they were doing, but emotions were running high, and she didn’t even want to think of what it all meant. She sat upright, inadvertently thrusting him deeper into her in the process. <oh, God> Ignoring the jolt of pleasure, she quickly leaned forward, changed her mind and leaned back to her original position.

Buffy gasped as his body jerked upward, tearing an agonized moan from deep within his chest. She stared down at him, wide-eyed, taking in his sweaty, flushed face. All the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensed as he cried out, spasming beneath her. She watched in fascination. It was unreal. This was Giles she was watching, lying beneath her.

< And he’s having an-an-oh my God. > Excitement raced through her veins. She could feel his hard flesh throbbing inside her, and despite all of her fears and embarrassment, Buffy felt her own release building.

"Giles" She whimpered, wanting this to stop, wanting it to play out to completion.

He looked at her. The need was so plainly written on her face, but... <To hell with propriety> He thought. This whole situation was completely inappropriate, what was one more offense?

He brought one hand back to her hip where it had been earlier, and began guiding her, using his own movements to compensate for her unwillingness to get moving again. With the other hand, he reached between her legs to find her clit, watching her face to gauge her reaction.

She gasped when she felt his hand on her pleasure point. <How dare he?!> Was her first thought, which slowly melted away as she was caught up in what he was doing to her. She began to rock slowly, encouraged by his own movements. She reached the edge, but couldn’t let go. Fear held her back, it was too personal, it was Giles. He was watching, his hands were on her.... she moaned in lust and frustration.

Giles was watching, not missing a thing. He’d be a fool not to enjoy every second of their one and probably only night together. There was nothing to lose. "Buffy, you’re so beautiful, I love you." He told her, beginning to pump in and out of her again. He didn’t tell her that he’d remember this day always, and think of her like this every time he ever saw her again.

His words triggered in her something she hadn’t even known was there, and she found her release, crying in ecstasy and relief. She collapsed on top of him, and the tears wouldn’t stop. Giles held her, knowing that his time was almost over. He ran his fingers over her back, memorizing the feel of her bare skin. Buffy lifted her head.

"Why-why did you-" She didn’t know how to put into words all the questions.

"What I said is true, Buffy. I love you. I’m sorry you had to find out this way..."

She cut him off. "Find out what way? You’re sorry that I had to find out through an incredible day of making out, followed by a night of mind-blowing sex, that you love me?" She laughed through her tears. "That makes sense, Giles."

"Well, when you put it that way." He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you, too." She added, very very softly. He barely heard her, but he heard.

The door burst open.

"We got him!" Xander yelled victoriously, switching on the light, carrying a still listless Willow over to the bed.

There were four screams.

**************

Epilogue

**************

"So, it was that easy?" Buffy asked. "You just kind of...broke him?"

Xander nodded with enthusiasm, eager to recount every detail of his heroism. "Well, I wouldn't exactly call it easy. You couldn't put that guy back together with all the superglue in the world. Some guys probably would've just smashed him to smithereens, but me, I smashed him to micro smithereens."

"Thank you, Xander." Giles said genuinely. He knew how important it was for Xander to feel a part of things. "I knew that you would come through."

His comment had the desired effect, and the boy swelled with pride.

Willow said something weakly from where she lay on the bed, still drained of energy.

"What, Wills?" He leaned down to better hear, grinning excitedly. "Oh, yeah, and on the way back...we staked a vamp!"

Buffy, who'd been lying on the bed that she and Giles had claimed as theirs, sat up. "What? What did he look like?"

Xander thought for a minute. "Pretty much like everybody else in this town, but with a snarly, hungry kind of face."

She put her hand on Giles leg. "That's him, Giles. The vamp that I wanted to stake on the street, but. Well, I didn't." She slapped her forehead. "I can't see how I could not have known."

"You couldn't have known." He reassured her. "We didn't know...anything."

"Well, that was pretty obvious." Xander commented.

Giles groaned inwardly. He should've known that they couldn't get away without having a great deal of discussion about how they'd been caught. Xander was already launched into the first of his observations.

"I mean, wow. If there was anything I expected to find when I came in here, it was maybe a little watching of the TV, a little reading of the books, but definitely not any..." He trailed off, not able to find any metaphors that wouldn't surely cause Giles to kick him out onto the street.

"Well, you know." He smiled at them, ignoring their pained expressions. "So, what happened anyways?"

"Xander." Giles gritted his teeth, trying to be patient. Trying to have them all believe that he felt perfectly comfortable discussing this with them all. Let them think that he was incapable of embarrassment. He continued calmly. "We had no way of knowing our relationship's nature. How could we have known that..." Somehow nothing he could think of was a good enough reason for them to deny what they felt.

"We didn't know." Buffy repeated awkwardly.

"So now you know." Xander pressed on. "What are you going to do?"

"We didn't have any restrictions on our relationship..." Giles began, again having no words.

"We don't have any now!" Buffy argued, giving him a hurt look.

"Yes."

"No! What? You're not my watcher anymore. Not that I'd buy that excuse either, if you had still been my watcher when we came to this point."

"Buffy, we never would've gotten to this point if this hadn't happened. You never would've thought of me in that way if you hadn't completely forgotten me...if that makes any sense at all. Actually, Buffy, it doesn't make any sense at all."

"What do you mean?" The two of them had all but forgotten their friends in the room with them.

"I mean, I have loved you for some time now. Everything we did today...well, I-I-I've wanted to do, and have thought about doing often." His face colored and he looked away. "But your actions were based solely on our circumstances. I saw your face when you remembered....It's all right." He added quickly. "It's not your fault."

"Giles..." Buffy couldn't stand to hear him say that. "Maybe that's true, but...our relationship is complicated. I was embarrassed, yes, at first. At first. But you made me see the rightness in it. You showed me. Now you can't just say 'Sorry, too many restrictions.' and just back out. It's not fair!"

He pulled her closer, until she was almost on his lap. "I'm not backing out, Buffy. God, that's the last thing I want. We just need to make sure that you know what you want." He ran his fingers through her hair.

"I know what I want." She answered, bringing her face up to meet him for a kiss, which quickly escalated into much more.

"Hey-" Xander interrupted. "Get a room."

Buffy broke away breathlessly. "We've got a room," she growled. "This is it, and if you're smart, you'll get your own.... room...soon." She said between kisses, laughing in delight at Giles' actions and her friend's discomfort.

Xander was already halfway to the door, dragging a dizzy Willow behind him. "Bye!"

"Bye."