It was poorly lit, the walls were white and barren, the only furniture a small table with two chairs, a dresser and the bed she was lying in. Two wooden doors stood on either side of the dresser.

She looked at herself. Her hands were in chains, wrapped around the metal bed board. She pulled on them as hard as she could and winced as they cut into her flesh.

Memories came floating back. A late night patrol at the cemetery with Giles. An attack by at least ten men. Travers' face looking down at her as she knew she had lost the fight.

Travers. It all made sense to her. She was being held by the council, and she had no doubt the damage the cuffs did was the result of the drug, the same one Giles had given her on her birthday, draining away her strength.

Giles. Where was he? He wasn't in the room. She worked her aching head harder. She saw glimpses of him during the fight, holding his own. But she had no doubt the council captured him.

Or killed him.

A shudder ran through her.

Before she could give her situation any more thought a stern looking man entered the room through the right door. He was wearing tweed, and carrying a tray.

He took the small table and sat it next to the bed, lying the tray on it. "Good morning."

Buffy didn't answer. "I said; Good morning."

She looked up at him defiantly. He slapped her, waiting until she turned her head back before speaking again. "You will answer when spoken too young lady, is that clear?"

Had it been Giles who used that tone with her she would have been quick to apologize. As it was only this watcher, a man she had deemed her enemy even before they met, she remained silent.

He slapped her again, harder. Blood trickled down from her lower lip. In her weakened state she experienced pain she was not accustomed to. Fighting to hold the tears in she chided herself. She had taken much more than this and kept on fighting, she wasn't about to start crying over a couple of slaps.

"Let's try this again. Good morning."

Thinking better of being slapped again, she answered with a flat "Morning."

"That's better." He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at her lip.

"Now, how about some breakfast?" He turned to the tray and she watched him as he spread a luxurious amount of butter on a slice of bread. He handed it to her but she just looked at it.

"Not hungry? Perhaps some juice, then?"

"Where am I? Where's my watcher?"

"I am your watcher now Ms. Summers. Mr. Giles will no longer be a problem. His whereabouts are not your concern."

Her face hardened. "WHERE IS MY WATCHER?"

Putting the bread down, he turned to her with a sigh. "I understand, Ms. Summers, that you and Mr. Giles were very close. But as I said, he is no longer any of your concern. He has been dealt with by the council and you have been assigned a new watcher." He extended a hand out to her. "Adams Boxtree."

She refused to shake his hand, the memory of Wesley when they first met floating briefly in her mind.

He sighed again. "You might have noticed by now that you are without your strength. This is not a drug, this is a spell, and there is nothing you can do that can disrupt it. You will not be given your strength back until we are convinced that you are quite over this foolish rebellion idea of yours. I WILL get you to change your mind, become the slayer you should have been from the start. And I will use any means necessary to get you back in line. Your former watcher had been far too lenient on you. This will not be the case with me. Any acts of rebellion, any form of disobeying me or my fellow watchers, will be dealt with. Understood?"

Angry now, Buffy once again refused to answer him. Expecting him to slap her again, she started when he reached for his belt buckle. "I understand" She rushed.

"Good. I see there is indeed a way of getting through to you. Now, would you like to eat or drink?"

Buffy fought with herself. She wanted a drink, but every act of cooperation with this man felt like a knife in Giles' back. Every pang of fear she felt when she thought he was about to hit her made her feel like a coward, unable to take a little slap without crying. But the truth was he was strong, and the spell had made her even weaker than a normal teenage girl. And she was thirsty.

"Juice."

He handed her the glass of orange juice. Her chains allowed her enough movements to drink by herself. She handed the empty glass back to him.

"That's all the juice, but there are cups in the bathroom and you are of course free to drink as much water as you please."

"Not really."

His brow furrowed for a second. Then he shook his head and pulled out a key. "Of course, how silly of me."

He unlocked the chains and looked at her damaged wrists. "Tried to break out did you? There is no way out of this building, I feel I should tell you this now. In your state, you can not fight the guards. Nor can you break down the doors, they are leaden."

Buffy stopped a sarcastic remark. "I'm tired."

He nodded a little. "Of course, you must be. I'll see you later."

He took the tray with him and left. Buffy heard the lock click into place, and then a bolt slide home. She threw the chains on the floor and covered her self up to the chin.

All she could think about was how much she wanted Giles. The fear that she might never see him again was the only thing that registered with her. Her friends, her mother, she couldn't believe the council would never allow her to see them. But she had no doubt the council would do anything to keep her away from Giles, they may even have killed him.

There was a horrible ache in her chest at the thought of him dead, or tortured, or anything that was other then being her watcher, back in Sunnydale. Boxtree's violence only served to make the ever gentle watcher seem more of a saint. No matter what she did, he had never slapped her. He certainly never reached for his belt.

She thought of him the night she last saw him. He was in a good mood, and he made her laugh several times. Until…

Buffy cried uncontrollably.

The bathroom was fancy, larger even than the one at Giles' house. She found plain sweat cloths in the dresser, and the shower had warm water. She let them run over her, washing the tears away. The pain in her chest had subsided to a knot in her stomach, tightening every time she thought about anyone, Giles especially.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. It caused yet another memory of Giles to sear through her. There was a cut on her head, at the same place as on her birthday…

She heard the door open and went out to the bedroom again. Boxtree was there, holding another tray. "Hello."

"Hey."

"I brought you lunch."

"I can see that."

He looked at her. "You seem gloomy. Is something wrong?"

"You take me away from my family, friends and watcher, you take my strength away and lock me up in here. Is anything NOT wrong?"

"You will see your family and friends again, when you are reinstated to the hellmouth."

"And my watcher?"

"I am your watcher."

She snorted. "You're not my watcher. You're a stubborn man with delusions of grandeur."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. You will come around. And, like it or not, you are mine now."

Anger flared inside her. "I am not yours, not now, not ever. The only watcher who has any claim on me is Giles."

She was afraid he'd hit her again, but he just looked at her calmly. "Mr. Giles has a hold on you, I can see that. But it's a hold you will grow out of. I will see to that."

Picking up the tray before she had a chance to eat, he left the room again.

Buffy sat down on the bed. She was hungry, but the hunger gave way to wonderment. Did this man really think the way to win her trust and devotion, not to mention affection, was to deny her food because she had not one positive feeling for him?

The ache in her heart was now added too by a hungry growl of her stomach. Sighing, wishing for Giles to cook one of his dreadful English meals for her, she went to sleep.

Boxtree brought her some books and National Geographic magazines with her dinner, which was modest in spite of the fact that she hadn't had anything to eat since before that last patrol, which she assumed was the night before.

She swallowed the food and the cup of tea, but didn't talk to him. He sat patiently and watched her.

She looked at him too from time to time. He was a little taller than Giles, broader in the shoulders in a menacing sort of way. His face was square, his brown eyes hidden behind glasses. His hair was graying and slightly receding.

"Is there anything else you need?" He asked as she finished eating.

"Besides my freedom?"

"You have your freedom. At any moment you are free to choose to get back to the right way of doing things, and then…"

"You mean your way of doing things."

"Do not interrupt me when I speak. Our way is how it should be, Ms. Summers. When you see that, you will be taken back to Sunnydale."

"So in other words I'm free to let myself get brainwashed."

He got up and took the tray. "I will be back in the morning, Ms. Summers. I hope you come to your senses soon, you are wonderful at your work. But remember, we will cast a truth spell to see that your intentions are pure, and any attempt to deceive us will be met with the appropriate punishment. Good night."

He didn't say anything when she didn't answer him this time.

She got out of the shower in the morning to see Boxtree already sitting near the table with it's breakfast tray, made for two this time. He was reading something which looked familiar.

Buffy felt rage rise inside her. He was reading Giles' watcher diary and holding his personal one. Moving across the room in two strides, she grabbed the journals. "GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF THEM!!!"

He jumped to his feet and reached for them, his voice dangerously low. "Give me the journals Ms. Summers."

"They're Giles'!! Giles and mine! You stay the hell away from them!"

"Mind you mouth, young lady. Now, give me back the journals before you make things worse for yourself." He took a step forward and she took one back, suddenly very aware of how much larger than her he was.

"They're not yours to read."

He made a grab for them, and she attacked. Her strength and speed taken from her, she soon found herself face down on the bed, her arm twisted behind her back. She tried to pull free but he was leaning his weight on her and her arm hurt with every move.

She felt a hand at her waist band and struggled again as she felt her pants and panties lowered. Fear rushed through her as she heard him unbuckle his belt.

"I will not be treated like this, Ms. Summers. You will NOT take things from my hands, you WILL give me anything when I ask for it, and you WILL NOT ATTACK ME. I am your watcher and you WILL treat me with the respect I deserve. If talking won't do the trick, as it obviously hasn't, we'll try something else."

Buffy tried hard not to scream as the belt landed on her bare behind with such force she thought she was going to die. It came down a few more times and she bit into the bed covers, trying to hold her cries in.

After what seemed like eternity she felt him pull her pants up to cover her. Her bottom was on fire, she was sure of that, and she lay there and cried into the bed as he rubbed her back gently.

Her sobs subsided into silent tears and he turned her around, helping her to her feet. "There, now, how about you drink a little to calm yourself?"

He handed her the juice and she sipped at it slowly, watching him as he put a pillow on her chair. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded mutely, and he fluffed the pillow. Buffy sat down carefully, wincing as she placed weight on her sore bottom. He prepared for her a slice of toast with jelly on it. He had picked up the journals and they were lying on the table next to her. She reached for Giles' personal one. "Ms. Summers, I had thought you learned your lesson."

"It's mine. This isn't a watcher thing, it's a Giles thing. It's private, and it doesn't belong to the council. And I don't care how much you hit me, I'm not giving this to you."

She braced herself as he pulled her out of the chair and supplied her behind with a few generous slaps. She started crying again, but held on to the journal.

He let go of her and she remained standing, not having the courage to sit down again. He took the tray and the watcher diary and turned to leave. "I won't have you talking to me like that, it's a shame it takes so much for you to learn. But you are right, it is private and none of our business. If it helps at all, I did not read it yet, and I will leave it here with you."

He left and Buffy walked over to the bed, lying on her stomach and clutching the diary to her. It smelled like Giles and it made her cry harder. But it was hers now, and Giles' memories and emotions were safe from the prying eyes of other watchers.

When she first saw the journal at his house it took every ounce of self-control she had not to open it. She wanted so much to find out what he thought of her, of her actions, and he wasn't of the habit of talking.

She stayed in bed, holding the diary but still not reading it, as if doing so would make the fear of his death true.

Boxtree came back in. "I thought you might want this."

She turned around slowly and took a small object from his open palm. She started crying even before she saw it. She knew what it was just by its feel.

Giles' pinky ring.

"Please, tell me what you did to him. Please…"

He left without answering, and she slid the ring on her second finger, next to the ring Giles had given her when she graduated.

Did they kill him? Ashamed at her own inability to stop crying ever since she got there, she curled up under the covers and called out for Giles.

Boxtree came back with lunch, again set for two. He fluffed the pillow for her and she reluctantly agreed to sit down, afraid that refusal will induce another beating.

She watched him as he put potatoes on her plate. "Why won't you tell me what happened to Giles?"

"It's time for you to get your mind away from him."

Buffy snorted. "You give me his ring and expect me to forget about him? I just want to know if he's alive."

"And who's to say that if I tell you he is alive and safe, that I would not be lying to you?"

"You will be. If he were alive and safe he would have saved me by now. I guess that's my answer, actually."

"Perhaps he understands the error of his ways and wants you to have the proper watcher you deserve."

"Every minute I spend here is proof that we were right when we turned our backs on you."

"I'm sorry you feel that way." He handed her the plate. "Mr. Giles' control of you is absolute, I can see that. But he was wrong, and you will learn that."

"How is locking me in a room and beating me supposed to teach me anything?"

"Your teaching has not yet began. This is just to get you settled in, to get you under control enough that your studies may begin."

"And what is it that I'm supposed to be learning?"

He sat down to eat. "Right now you are supposed to understand that I am your watcher, that disobeying me is not an option. And you are meant to put your former, inadequate, watcher behind you."

"Giles was better in his sleep than you could ever be. I saw your 'adequate watcher'. He offered to give a demon his strength back so that his knees wouldn't be hurt. Giles…"

"Faced torture. At the hands of one of the cruelest vampires in history. I am well aware of that. I am not saying that Mr. Giles is without merit, how ever his treatment of you…"

"Was kind and supportive and…"

"I told you not to interrupt me. His actions have left you with no discipline, no respect for your work or the position of watcher."

"No discipline? I put a sword through the man I loved. I watched friends die and I went on fighting. I DIED, and I'm still here, kicking demon ass. I had enough respect for the position of watcher not to kill Wesley when I first met him, to trust Post when the council FORGOT to inform us they had kicked her out. And there is nothing you can say that will make me think Giles wasn't… isn't the greatest watcher out there, and that you are anything other than a fraud."

He got up, his face frozen and his voice harsh. "Eat your lunch. If you bring his name up again, you will feel my belt. Is that clear?"

She got up as well, sure now that there was a way of breaking this man, wondering which one of them would hold on longer. "Where – is – my – watcher?"

Buffy lay in bed, the pain throbbing through her. Boxtree really was a strong man. On top of that she had only had one meal since before her capture and was famished. But most of all it was her heart that ached; not knowing what was going to happen to her; what happened to Giles; what was going on over the hellmouth, where her mother and her friends still resided with no one to protect them.

For a week, Buffy stayed quiet, answered when spoken too, but otherwise silent. Without her slayer strength she found the beatings hard to recover from and they made a lasting impression on her. She wasn't about to become all Kendra like and work with the council, but a firm discussion with her behind convinced her to give matters a rest until she was feeling better.

At the end of the week was an argument with Boxtree, who would not allow her to call her mother, or even send a short letter telling her she was alive. Frustrated, Buffy ignored his warning as to escaping and tried to pick the door lock with a head pin. The room, she soon discovered, had cameras in it. Her attempted escape, and her subsequent lie when asked about it, induced another severe beating.

Boxtree rubbed her back until she calmed down a little, still holding the cane he used instead of his belt. Buffy hated his touch, trying to comfort after he had violated her by undressing and beating her, but she found she lacked the courage to push him away.

In pain and emotional turmoil, she called out for the one person she trusted would never let anyone treat her like that if he could help it. She spoke his name so softly at first that Boxtree did not hear it, but as her sobs quieted and her speech became more coherent he heard Giles' name very clearly.

The hand holding the cane flowed up almost of its own accord and landed on Buffy's back. Ignoring her cries, and eventually her screams, he let the cane come down upon her body again and again, using all his force.

Buffy opened her eyes slowly. Everything on the backside of her body hurt, and her head was throbbing. The memories of what happened came back to her and caused her eyes to open wide, taking in her surrounding.

She was in her room, and sitting at the side of her bed, was Travers.

"How are you?"

"What did he do? What did you let him do?"

"Mr. Boxtree lost control, it was not my doing…"

"Not your doing? You brought me here, you locked me up, took my powers and you let that man beat me. What did he do to me while I was unconscious?"

"He didn't do anything. The guards came in only seconds after you fainted…"

"Nice to know someone cares." She said dryly. To Travers, she sounded just like she had on her birthday, when she asked if her actions awarded her a gold star.

"We care, Ms. Summers, that is why…"

"Where's Giles?"

"That is not your concern. Mr. Boxtree is your watcher…"

She sat up, ignoring the pain running through her. "WHAT? He did this to me, he beat me half to death, and he gets to stay my watcher?"

"Mr. Boxtree over reacted, he admits that…"

"Oh, how nice of him."

"However, in light of your attitude, we believe you need a firm hand…"

"He didn't use his hand, he used a cane, all his force and no common sense. And it's not helping your campaign. Nothing in the way he handles me will get me to work with you people. Give me Giles back."

"I'm afraid that's not an option, Ms. Summers. I'll visit you again later. Right now, it is time for your dinner."

He left her and she slumped back against the pillows, wincing as her tortured back landed on them. Boxtree came in, holding a tray.

"Get the hell away from me."

"I understand you're upset, I came to apologize for my reaction. However I would like to remind you, I warned you that I would not allow you to speak his name…"

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCK!!!"

"Ms. Summers! Your condition will not cause me to ignore your lack of manners. I advise you to watch your mouth or I'll…"

"You'll what? You'll beat me? You almost killed me before, you willing to do that again?"

"That incident was regrettable, how ever…"

She grabbed a knife from the tray and stabbed him through the upper arm, pleased to hear him use words he would have slapped her for.

He did slap her, hard, twice. She whimpered, but refused to cry in front of him. He took the tray, leaving to seek medical assistance.

Buffy turned her face into the pillows and begged for Giles to find her.

Boxtree didn't come to see her the next day at all. Since he brought her meals, hunger soon joined the pain.

She looked in the mirror. Barely a week after her capture, she had already visibly lost weight. Her back, bottom and thighs were bruised, the colors ranging from yellow to black. She hated Boxtree, and she feared him. But he was her only human contact, and she wanted him to come and talk to her. Keep her company. She couldn't bare being alone for so long. Even Boxtree, with his violence and short temper, was better than nothing.

When he comes again, she decided, she'll try and talk to him. Nothing in particular, just a chance to hear a human voice.

Boxtree finally came back the next morning, a day and a half after his assault on her. Buffy was slightly amused to see that their food had been cut before hand, and that the silverware did not include a knife.

Her resolve to carry on a conversation disappeared in the face of a sudden burst of shyness. She said good morning weakly, but didn't even look at him.

Breakfast was silent, as they both ate without saying anything. Finally, as she had the piece of fruit she always saved for last, Boxtree spoke.

"I wanted to apologize for my outburst. I had no right to hit you like that."

Buffy didn't say anything.

"I understand you're mad at me, but I don't think this silent treatment will accomplish anything."

Rather than admitting her own desire to talk to someone, Buffy held on to the last bits of stubbornness she had. "It's not like we used to talk half way through the night. Good morning or good night is pretty much all you got out of me that didn't end with me in pain."

"We don't have to talk about Mr. Giles, and you don't have to be rude, you know. We could just… talk. About anything you like. I can't imagine it's easy for you, being locked up and all alone. You seem to be a rather social person."

"Only to those I like."

"I am not your enemy, my dear girl. I am your watcher, and I'm meant to be your friend. Talking might make it easier for you to get used to me, not to mention making your time here much more pleasant. I have been told that I make for a good conversation."

His hand slid across the table and rested on top of hers. Buffy jerked away. "Don't touch me."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Buffy gave him a look which clearly said she did not believe that statement for a minute.

"I will not hurt you randomly, Ms. Summers. Punishment will only be given when deserved, not when I decide I want to hit you. I do not enjoy those ordeals, you do realize that?"

She didn't have the courage to tell him she did not believe that statement either. "I don't like being hit."

"Then all you need do is behave yourself. Do as you are told and mind your mouth, Buffy, and all will be well."

"Don't call me that."

He seemed confused. "Don't call you what?"

"Buffy. That's not my name. That's my nick name, it's not for people like you. It's not for the council. You can call me Ms. Summers, or Elizabeth, but not Buffy."

"Very well, Elizabeth. And you may feel free to call me Adams."

Buffy didn't answer him.

"I think perhaps it will be best if we continue this over lunch. I'll give you some time to think it over. Please remember, I am trying to be a friend, and I am willing to try my luck at conversation. You needn't be afraid of me, nor need you feel alone. I am here, among other things, to keep you company as you adjust to your new situation. Please give it some thought. I will see you at lunch."

He stood there and looked at her for a few seconds, then picked up the dishes, put them on the tray and left with it.

Buffy moved to lie on the bed, shifting her weight from her sore behind to her front. She wanted so much to talk to someone, not to feel so horribly alone. Boxtree seemed to be willing to help with that, to carry on civil conversations. Maybe he was good for something besides beatings. But she felt like she would be betraying Giles. He was her watcher, and she was determined to keep it that way.

But what would it hurt, to have someone help her feel not so alone? She hated being alone. It had always been her greatest fear. She was sure Giles wouldn't want her to sit alone all day until they decide to release her. He wouldn't mind if she talked to Boxtree, would he?

Of course he wouldn't. He was Giles, he wouldn't want her to be lonely any more than she did. She could talk to Boxtree. Only until Giles came, no longer. He wasn't a threat to Giles. She would never take Boxtree over him. But Giles wasn't there. And she was all alone.

Just a few conversations. Who would it hurt?

Boxtree lived up to his word of being pleasant company. He had a lively sense of humor and seemingly took great joy in telling her myths of cultures only watchers knew of. Slowly, over the course of a month or so, Buffy opened up to him and talked instead of listening quietly. She found him listening with great attention to her tales. He was interested in her life in Sunnydale, her deeds as a slayer and her in general. There was much that wasn't in Giles' watcher journal, and, keeping to his word once more, he did not touch his personal one. Buffy enjoyed those opportunities to talk, with unconcealed pride, of her watcher, without fear of Boxtree's anger.

She was ignorant of the hate festering in Boxtree for years, a hate only magnified by her continuous boasting of her watcher.

Rupert Giles, at the age of 19 or so, left his studies in Oxford to return two years later as a wreck, with blood on his hands. Boxtree wondered if Buffy, or Elizabeth as she made him call her, knew how much it had cost her Giles to become a watcher.

But he wasn't the only one who paid. Boxtree took Rupert's place in the line of watchers, to be the one called into service after Merik's death. He had lost his place to Rupert, and then, when the fool allowed his slayer to die and started the second line of slayers, found that his shifting in the lines allowed more powerful members, higher in the rank of families, to take his place. The watcher who received the slayer Kendra as an infant used his powers, the powerful blood line of his family, to keep her as she was activated. Then, out of nowhere , or so it seemed to Boxtree, came the watcher who claimed Faith, located only two months prior to Kendra's death. And while Boxtree wasn't, in truth, interested in the 'missed' slayers, as he called those not taken by the council at childbirth, he was very much interested in Buffy Summers.

And so it was with a barely controlled rage that he accepted the news that her watcher was to be Wesley, a twit by any definition of the word. The Price side of Wesley's family claimed his place, pointing to the fact that Boxtree was, indeed, not written as the next in line.

That was the fault of the council, who neglected to adjust the lines after allowing Giles back to their ranks. But Boxtree, hateful and vindictive, choose to blame Rupert Giles.

And he wanted Buffy Summers.

For a missed slayer to be so powerful was appealing to Boxtree. He admired these beautiful creatures, and desired to control them. Like all missed slayers, Buffy was a loose canon. She had little desire to be controlled by a watcher as Kendra was, an emotion Giles supported in one of his journal entries, stating that Buffy's fire and free spirit gave her an edge over her closely controlled and emotionally restrained peers.

Boxtree desired to take her and break her, turn her into his vision of a slayer. Obedient, calculated under any and all circumstances. Training by day and slaying by night. Buffy's continued education seemed like nothing but an interference for him. What need had a girl with the life expectancy of five years for a high school diploma, or a college degree?

Boxtree guessed there would be trouble as soon as Wesley was sent to Sunnydale, and in truth did not believe he would survive for long. Moving quickly, he asserted his place as the next in line. Then, when the news of Buffy's rebellion arrived, claimed 're education' was in need for her.

Giles was removed, Buffy was brought to him. She was his, and he intended to play with her mind and soul until she realized it herself.

Buffy lost count of the days, the only clue as to the length of her imprisonment her monthly cycle. And although she was friendly to Boxtree, she could not at first bring herself to feel anything but hate towards him.

Slowly, however, she could not keep up with her emotions. The longing in her heart for Giles transformed into a longing for the kind of relationship she shared with him, no matter the partner, and Boxtree knew how to make himself liked. Buffy did not notice as, in the back of her mind, she took him as replacement. When she thought about it she still missed Giles, but most of the time she was content with Boxtree's company. He was still rather violent, and as time passed the number of transgressions he would hit her for increased, but, as he knew, victims did not blame the assailant for long.

Although she did not realize it, Buffy broke the day she got angry at herself for giving Boxtree a reason to hit her. Eventually, the anger she felt as he hit her was directed not towards him, but her. The blame shifted, it was no longer his fault, but hers for doing what she knew would anger him. It took six very long months, but finally Buffy apologized to him after a beating. Boxtree hid a pleased smile at that. She was his, at last.

There was still a way to go. He knew the most crucial element, Giles, had still not been dealt with. She still loved him, missed him and, most importantly, still blamed Boxtree for taking him away from her.

When for the third time she openly accepted the blame for his beating, Boxtree knew she was blind as to who was really to blame for anything. Up until then he was afraid any talk of Giles would make her angry and 'wake her up'. Now, he knew he could say what ever he wanted, without fear of being set back in his plan.

He started dropping hints, referring to Giles' fate on the night of her capture. For a while, Buffy's fear of him kept her quiet, not daring to ask about Giles. Curiosity and worry were mixing in her and Boxtree knew it would not be long before she would ask him.

She did, over lunch one day, about seven months after her capture. Quietly, she reminded him of the way he talked about that night, and about her need to know what happened to Giles. Boxtree saw her fidget with the pinky ring, still sitting on her finger next to a ring he knew was a present from the watcher. Buffy did not know it, but the ring was old, and very expensive. Boxtree had no doubt it was handed down in the Giles' family for generations.

"It is not your concern what happened to him. Why does he interest you so?"

Buffy lacked the courage to tell him the strength of her feelings for Giles. She shrugged and stabbed her food, not looking up from her plate. She was grateful he did not punish her for speaking of Giles and didn't want to push her luck.

She was very quiet for the rest of the day, and asked Boxtree to leave and allow her to sleep very early in the evening.

Boxtree smiled as he locked the door behind him.

Buffy climbed into bed and reached for the journal. In seven months she hadn't opened it. Now she couldn't stop herself. She had to. She needed to. It was her only link to Giles, whom she now believed dead.

She read through the night. It started out quietly, a more personal account of their actions, some of his feelings. She smiled wistfully as she found that he had rather deep and warm emotions under the tweed he used as an armor his first year or so.

But slowly, it became painful. For the first time she really understood how much he had been through during his stay at Sunnydale.

By the time she reached the end, an entry three days before their capture, she was having feelings she never had before.

On top of all of them was a relief, that from now on, it will be Boxtree who had to deal with the pain she brought to the life of her watcher.

Giles would be safe from her pain forever.

Buffy woke up when Boxtree pulled her out of bed. She shrieked as he wrapped her in a blanket and pushed her forward, shoving a wet handkerchief in front of her face.

Only then did she notice the flames and the heavy smoke. Leading her through the corridor and the little garden she was sometimes allowed to wander in, Boxtree took her to an area of the house she had never been too, all the way to the open front door.

The guards were there, staring at it in wonderment. None of them could get out.

Boxtree tried going through, amazed himself as he was pushed backwards. Buffy watched, then screamed as a burning wooden beam fell on top of her.

And bounced off an invisible shield. Buffy watched wide eyed as it fell instead on the guard standing next to her.

Then through the smoke, on the other side of the door, she saw something.

Three familiar figures, joined by a fourth.

She looked at Boxtree and the guards, distracted by the shield and not looking at her.

Buffy pushed her hand through the door. Then her arm, the other arm, and then, a second before Boxtree could grab her, jumped through it, heading for the figures on the grass before the little cottage. After a few steps, she stopped and turned to look at the burning house.

There was a pang of guilt at letting Boxtree burn to death, one which would haunt her for the rest of her life. But more than anything it was his attempt to pull her back into the burning house that made her realize that he did not, for a second, care for her as a person, and that he was perfectly willing to let her die the same way. Her resolve to save him let out with the realization that there was no way to do it and, further more, that he would not do the same for her. Turning from the house once more, she walked the rest of the way to her freedom.

Giles lay awake in the bed in the Summer's guest room. After a month of capture, his landlord rented his apartment to someone else. It was only Willow's insistent watering of his plants that allowed her to find out about it in time to store his belongings for the next six months. Homeless, he had spent the week since his escape at the Summer's house, using every source he had to find Buffy.

He found her after five days, prepared the spells with Willow, and went to her rescue. It worked perfectly, allowing her to be the only one to escape the burning house. Even if Boxtree hadn't taken her out of her cell, no harm would have come to her.

And now she was home, and very different. They had yet to remove the spell holding her strength at bay, but the lack of power seemed to be the smallest, and most easily solved, of their problems.

Giles could only guess as to what happened to her over the time. It did not escape his attention that she flinched when hands moved near her; that she was very quiet and subdued; and that she was shying away from him. After seven months, she backed away when he came to hug her. It hurt, more than anything that had ever happened to him. There was a guilty flash in her eyes whenever she looked at him, and she never once returned any of his smiles.

He sat up a little as his door inched open quietly. "Buffy? Come here sweetheart." The endearment slipped out of his mouth without thought, but it gave her the courage to come to where he could see her in the small circle of light the table lamp cast near the bed.

She looked at him in trepidation. Why was he so happy to see her after everything she'd done to him?

"Come here." He encouraged again, extending his hand to her. Never looking away from his eyes, she reached for his hand and allowed him to guide her to a sitting position at the edge of the bed, where he caressed her cheek gently. "I missed you Buffy."

Her eyes shone with tears. "I missed you too." She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then reached down for his hand and slid his ring to its place around his finger. He looked up at her, eyes shining with his own tears now.

Motivated by the look in his eyes and acting far more certain of his acceptance than she felt, Buffy moved forward, sitting closer to him and wrapping her arms around his knack.

Giles slid an arm under her thighs and pulled her up to sit on his own thighs, her side pressing against his chest and her arms still around him. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.

Finally, Buffy believed in what she had before that night… before she read of his pain. That he did love her, in spite of everything. She held on even tighter and cried into his shoulder.

Giles looked down at his slayer, her calm breath telling him she had fallen asleep. Sliding his arm under her again, he laid her on the bed and covered her with the blanket, lowering her head gently to rest on his thigh. It would be the last time she ever cried herself to sleep.

The End