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The Quality Of Pain
By Sandra Pascoe


Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters don’t belong to me – I’m only borrowing them for a while … don’t suppose you’d consider letting me have Giles on a sort of timeshare basis?
Notes: This fic was inspired by the simply delightful song "End Game" on Anthony Head’s "Music for Elevators" album – the story popped into my head whilst I was listening to the song. I should warn you that there is a little bit of angst in this fic…
Setting: Season 6 (sometime after "Tabula Rasa")
Spoilers: Some Season 6 – nothing too extreme though!
Summary: After a few months in England, Giles returns to Sunnydale…

---
Rupert Giles pushed his way through the throng of people, his face set in a grim frown as he studiously ignored the joyful, noisy reunions taking place around him. The airport seemed particularly crowded and it was some time before he was finally outside, taking deep breaths of the slightly fruit-tinged air that he’d missed so much. That’s not all I’ve missed, he thought, tightening his grip on his case as he glanced around for a cab. So, why didn’t you tell them you were coming, he asked himself, what are you afraid of? Afraid? I’m afraid of hurting them … afraid that they’ll expect me to stay … expect me to put everything right. I can’t do that … not this time. Finally locating a cab, Giles settled himself in the back and stared blankly out of the window. One thing to do, he thought, I’ve got one thing to do and then I leave … for good this time.

In order to be as discreet as possible, Giles had booked himself into a hotel on the outskirts of Sunnydale. He glanced around the small room and sighed. Well, he thought, it’s only for one night. Opening his case, he located a couple of stakes and a small bottle of holy water. Slipping them into various pockets, he left his room and jogged quickly down the staircase. As Giles left the hotel, he glanced up, frowning at the dark sky. Not that you could really call this dark, he mused, not with the plethora of streetlights. Maybe I should go back … do this tomorrow morning. No, he thought, I have to do it now and it seems somehow appropriate that it should take place at night. As he walked, he glanced around with interest, noting how absolutely nothing had changed … it all seemed exactly as it was when he’d left. Should I have expected anything different? It all seems so … normal. Giles slowed slightly, aware that the odd passer-by had recognised him but not caring. Stagnating, he thought, that’s what I was doing. I was used when needed and then locked back in my box until the next time … and then it all changed. I was needed too much … used as a very convenient hook upon which were hung the problems and cares that … that … it wasn’t my place to deal with. Giles thrust his hands into his pockets and sighed. It wasn’t meant to happen like this.

Giles paused as he reached the open gates, swallowing nervously and glancing around. If I’m going to meet them anywhere, he thought, then it’s going to be here. He took a deep breath and stepped through the gates, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. Giles moved quickly and easily around the gravestones, his eyes searching restlessly. He stopped suddenly as he saw the fresh grave, the large assortment of flowers moving gently in the soft breeze. He walked forward mechanically, as if in a daze, his eyes never moving from the mound of earth in front of him. Giles dropped to his knees, reaching out a shaking hand to turn one of the cards over to read the inscription.

"Buffy, you were the best friend anyone could possibly have. You deserve peace. Love always, Willow."

That was all it needed. The final confirmation, the culmination of all his fears and nightmares. It’s true, he thought, this really is the end. A small part of him hadn’t believed it, couldn’t accept that she’d died once more. Not now, not when there was so much left unsaid, so much left unspoken. When Willow phoned him, Giles had felt as though the whole world had ended … for the second time.

"I couldn’t do it," he said softly, the tears running freely down his face, "I’d buried you once … I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t watch them put you in the ground like … like before. That’s why I didn’t come … I couldn’t come to the funeral … couldn’t do it all over again."

Giles bent his head, the sobs tearing through him. The painful, heart-wrenching sobs of a man who never allowed himself to let go; a man who had finally reached his limit; a strong, resolute man who had suddenly found himself completely overwhelmed by emotion, who had taken more than he could possibly bear. A wealth of memories flooded through him and it seemed to last an eternity … each memory causing a fresh flood of tears, the torment and grief growing ever stronger. The memories didn’t blur; they were still fresh and new, as though they'd only happened yesterday. So many memories: their first meeting, when he’d come face-to-face with this fresh-faced young girl who didn’t want anything to do with the destiny thrust upon her; Buffy punching him when he tried to face the Master in her place; both of them kneeling on the ground outside the burning factory, holding each other and sobbing, her soft entreaty ringing in his ears: "You can’t leave me – I can’t do this alone."

"I did though, didn’t I?" He said softly as the sobs subsided. "I left you … left when you needed me the most … and look what happened. If I could change the past, if I could go back, then I would in a heartbeat. There are quite a few things I’d change."

Giles took a deep breath and settled himself more comfortably on the ground beside Buffy’s grave.

"Not you though, love," he said almost fondly. "I’d change myself. You see, when you died … the last time you died … well, it seemed as though a part of me died as well. You were gone … and it was so hard being here. Memories of you were everywhere … not least with that damnable robot they had me training. That’s when I finally realised, you see. Oh, I’d suspected for a long time but your death made me face up to a few things. I left for England because I simply couldn’t face being here without you."

Giles sighed heavily and shifted once more, running his hand gently over the mass of flowers.

"Then they brought you back," he continued, fixing his gaze upon one flower and frowning. "I didn’t really believe it … not until I saw you standing there … and felt your arms around me as you hugged me with such force. I promised myself then that I would tell you … but something held me back … a look in your eyes, a slight catch in your voice when you spoke. You tensed or walked away whenever I reached out a hand to you … I thought you’d realised, thought you found it … found me repulsive. You really had no idea, did you? You clung to me emotionally though, used me to sort out your problems … I meant what I said. I really was standing in your way. As long as I was around you’d never face up to your responsibilities, never be the best you could be. I should have tried harder though … I should have told you … maybe it would have given you the spark you needed … even if you had laughed in my face and pulled away from me." Giles took a deep breath and raised his head, gazing out across the still, silent graveyard. "So, have you worked it out yet? I can almost hear you going ‘ewwww’ and turning your nose up. It doesn’t really matter now. It’s too late but I’m finally going to say it. I love you, Buffy … I will always love you."

"You love me? You still left though … still walked away!"

Giles stood quickly, spinning around at the sound of that oh-so-familiar voice.

"B..Buffy?" Giles gazed in open-mouthed disbelief at the figure standing before him. She stood, hands on hips, glaring at him.

"Well?" She raised an eyebrow and Giles took a step backwards as she moved towards him. "Answer me!" Buffy grinned suddenly, the pointed fangs prominent against her red lips, her eyes slowly yellowing as her entire face vamped.

"No," Giles shook his head, unable to stop the tears that trickled down his face once more. "Not you … please."

"It’s not so bad, Giles," she said softly, advancing on him. "You gotta admit that I always was a bit of a night owl."

Buffy reached out, placing her hand flat upon his chest. She smiled as she felt his heart thudding beneath her palm.

"Keep that blood flowing, Giles. The faster it flows, the better it tastes." Buffy glanced up, the expression of shock and horror on Giles’ face causing a sudden shudder to pass through her. It was as though a part of her that had been buried deep, that had been forgotten and ignored, had suddenly woken and pushed its way to the surface. Buffy stepped back in confusion, feeling the battle raging within her. Giles’ eyes widened slightly and he stepped uncertainly towards her, reaching out a tentative hand.

"That’s it, Buffy," he spoke softly and calmly, "there’s still a part of you in there … the real you. The Buffy I know, the Buffy I love … I know you’re still in there. You may be afraid … but you’re not alone any longer. You can do this, Buffy. Fight the demon inside you, don’t let it take control. You’re the Slayer .. . you have the strength, the capability to fight this. Come on, show me that Slayer strength."

With a sudden snarl, Buffy leapt at Giles, knocking him to the ground. He landed on his back with Buffy on his chest, pinning him to the cold, dank earth. Giles looked up, straight into the yellow eyes that blazed angrily down at him. She’s too far gone, he thought, no … anyone but you. Swallowing the pain and grief that threatened to overwhelm him, Giles closed his eyes and lifted his head slightly, baring his neck. If this is to be how it ends, he thought, then so be it. Do it, Buffy, do it now … I don’t want to live any longer. Giles felt cold lips on his neck and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, bracing himself against the pain that would follow. Soft kisses along his jaw, followed by a hand gently caressing his face caused Giles to slowly open his eyes and blink in surprise at the smiling face that looked down at him.

"Giles …" Buffy’s smile widened, "you came back."

"B … Buffy?"

"Giles …" Buffy lay her head on his chest, snuggling into him as she felt his arms wrap around her. "I need you to do something for me."

"Oh?" Giles’ voice was still confused. He wasn’t entirely sure he knew or understood what was happening but was content to follow Buffy’s lead. Buffy raised her head to look into his eyes. She smiled at the pure love and devotion she saw shining back at her.

"Giles … you said you loved me."

"Yes." This time there was no uncertainty, no confusion.

"Then you have to … you have to end this, Giles."

Giles frowned up at her. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. I can’t live like this … if you can call it living. This is … this is my worst nightmare … you know that. You have to end it … you have to end it now, before I lose control … before I turn into the very thing I’ve been fighting all these years. For my life … for our lives … to mean something, then you have to do this for me."

"Buffy …" Giles gazed up her, tears filling his eyes. "I can’t do that … I can’t lose you … not again."

Buffy quickly slid off him as the tears trickled down his face. Kneeling beside him, she drew him towards her, cradling him as he sobbed. His arms snaked around her and he clung to her desperately, afraid that if he were to let go then she would be gone .. a mere dream, a memory. Buffy whispered softly to him, rocking back and forth, her own tears now falling unchecked.

"Giles, you’re the only one who can do this. You’ve always been the strong one, always been there when I needed you, always loved and supported me no matter what I’d done. I need that strength now, Giles. WE need that strength. I’m dead … you know that. I. Am. Dead." Aware that Giles’ sobs had gradually subsided, Buffy kept talking softly, needing to convince him. "Please, Giles, let me have peace … I can’t go on like this. It’s a mockery of everything. It’s a mockery of me, my life, my destiny … it’s a mockery of us … of our beliefs, our struggles, our pain. It makes all the good we’ve ever done completely meaningless and I will not let it end like this."

Giles raised his head, feeling a brief surge of pride at the quiet determination in her voice before the pain and grief settled upon him once more. Buffy’s hand softly stroked his hair and Giles slowly became aware that she was cold. A bone-chilling cold that seemed to suck all the warmth from him. He frowned and lowered his head, resting it against her chest. There was no thudding heartbeat to comfort him, no breaths being taken, no glorious rise and fall of her chest. She’s right, he thought, she can’t go on like this. Some welcome it … welcome the transition from human to vampire, captivated by thoughts of living forever, of watching humans live and die in the space of what is to them a few moments. To a Slayer, however, it is the ultimate torture. Wasn’t it Neitsche who said, thought Giles, "beware when fighting monsters, lest ye become one yourself"? I don’t think this was quite what he had in mind although it seems remarkably appropriate.

"Who did this?" Giles spoke softly, raising his head to look into her eyes. Buffy met his gaze evenly, knowing how painful it would be for him, but recognising his right to know.

"Spike," she said softly, looking away. "I felt … detached, felt like I was on the outside looking in … as though I was wrong, somehow." Buffy glanced at Giles and smiled briefly, "and that was even before you left, so no guilt-trip for you on this one."

"I was wrong to leave," he replied softly.

"Yes, you were," replied Buffy, "but you left for very good reasons and I should have worked harder to make you stay instead of running away like a child."

"Forgive me," he said softly and Buffy smiled.

"There’s nothing to forgive," she replied, her hand moving to trace the contours of his face. "Everything you’ve ever done has been for me. You gave up so much, accepted so much hurt and pain, all because of me. You’ve always done what you thought was best for me. I may not have understood that at the time, but I do now. Forgive you? I should be thanking you."

Giles shook his head. "I should thank you."

"Me?" Buffy gazed down at him , surprised. "What have you got to thank me for? All I ever did was insult you, ignore you or hurt you."

Giles chuckled slightly and tightened his grip. "Oh, love, you did so much. Your joy, your laughter, your strength, your determination, your … heart," he said softly. "You gave me life … a reason to get out of bed in the morning and face the day. Seeing you, your smile, your eyes, helped me through some of the worst times of my life. I wouldn’t change it for the world."

"That’s what you did for me," replied Buffy, tears running freely down her face. "You were the reason I didn’t give up, you were the reason I survived so long. Knowing that you were there, your door always open, accepting me no matter what I’d done … it gave me the strength to go on, to keep fighting the darkness. It was like … if I didn’t fight it then the darkness would win … it would consume the light. You were my light and I couldn’t let the darkness swallow you."

"That’s …" Giles swallowed, forcing down the tears that threatened once more. "I think that’s the most complimentary thing you’ve ever said about me."

"It needed saying," she replied, her hand tracing his face once more.

"Um … Buffy?" Giles took a deep breath and looked down, avoiding her gaze.

"Giles?"

"How do you …what do you … I mean …" He couldn’t say it, couldn’t put it into words. Words had a finality about them that he didn’t particularly want to face.

"Well," replied Buffy, kissing his hair, "my first thought was staking."

Giles flinched and Buffy reached down, cupping his chin and tilting his head up to face her.

"Why don’t we just sit here together and wait for the sun to rise. Let me see the sun one last time … with you."

Giles automatically glanced at his watch and then frowned.

"Well?" Asked Buffy, "how long have we got?"

"Just over three hours," Giles replied softly. "Can you hold on that long?"

"I can still feel it within me, if that’s what you mean," Buffy frowned, "but at the moment it’s okay … I can control it."

"If … if it gets too much …" Giles broke off and raised his head, meeting Buffy’s gaze evenly. There was no need for words. Giles’ eyes held a promise … a promise that he would keep even though it would break his heart. Buffy shook her head.

"I’ll hold on," she said softly. "I’m not putting you through that."

"You may have no choice."

"There’s always a choice, Giles," replied Buffy, raising an eyebrow at Giles' soft chuckle. "Come on, spill it big guy. What's so funny?"

"Not funny," smiled Giles, "more along the lines of a tragic irony."

"Which you're just itching to explain, aren't you?"

"Buffy, I left because I wanted you to be strong, to be the best you possibly could be. I just find it tragically ironic that you've now become the person I longed you to be."

"Yay me," replied Buffy. "It only took being turned to do it. To make me finally see not just how blind I'd been but also how … how low I'd sunk. Giles, some of the things I did …"

"No," interrupted Giles. "That's over. It doesn't matter now."

"Giles …"

"No," replied Giles firmly. "Don’t go there … I know enough. Willow told me."

"Let me guess," said Buffy. "You've been beating yourself up about it ever since."

"Buffy …"

"Jesus, Giles, how many times do I have to tell you? It's not your fault. I had the others as well, you know. They were still there, still with me and yet I went ahead and walked this path anyway."

Giles nodded and shifted slightly, trying to get some feeling back into his legs which had decided to go to sleep on him. Buffy felt a shock go through her at the sudden movement. She could feel his heart beating, feel the blood pounding through his veins. There was so much life in him … so much blood. Just a little bit, she thought, just a taste. Unconsciously, she moved her head closer to Giles' neck, drawn by the pulse pounding in his throat. No! The voice in her head was loud, demanding and unforgiving. Buffy drew back, horrified at what she'd almost done. The closer she was to him, the worse it became. She stood quickly and held out a hand to Giles.

"Come on, Giles," she said. "Let's go for a walk."

"A walk?" Giles rose, slightly shakily, stamping his feet. He took her hand and gazed down at her, his green eyes shining with emotion. Buffy looked into those sparkling depths, feeling a calmness settling on her. It'll be okay, she thought, I'll be okay as long as I can look into these incredible eyes. Didn’t someone once say that the eyes are the windows of the soul? Well, she thought, Rupert Giles you have one seriously incredible soul. She grinned suddenly.

"Giles, I don't particularly want my last moments to be in a graveyard," she said succinctly, wincing at the pain that suddenly clouded his eyes.

"Where would you like to go?" He replied with forced cheerfulness and Buffy frowned.

"Somewhere where there's no people around," she said softly, "where there's no temptation. Somewhere we were happy … before it all went wrong."

Giles thought for a few seconds and then smiled. "I know the very place."

**********
"Well?" Asked Giles. "Is this okay?"

"It’s perfect, Giles," murmured Buffy. "The one place we were all happy … where everything seemed so simple."

They were both silent for a few moments, standing hand-in-hand surveying the ruins before them. Buffy felt a sudden emptiness, a sense of incredible loss and she squeezed Giles’ hand tighter, needing the contact, the reassurance of his presence. Every time she thought of the school she always thought of Giles. Every memory had Giles in it - his breathless enthusiasm, his tea, his tweed … the nights spent researching … Giles’ passion for jelly donuts. It’s the little things that are important, she thought, not the big things. All that hellmouth-y stuff pales into insignificance next to the friendships that were nurtured, the companionship of those long nights researching or patrolling. He was always there, she thought, always at my side. My Knight, she smiled, my Knight in Tweed armour.

"Giles?"

"Mmmm?" He glanced down at her, his eyes bright with remembered moments and she smiled up at him.

"I want to see the library."

Giles nodded sadly, not trusting himself to speak as they moved silently towards the ruined building that loomed over them. He felt the pressure building within him, felt as though he were about to explode as a myriad of emotions surged though him: pain, anger, grief, pride and an almost overwhelming sense of complete helplessness and loss. He tried swallowing against the lump in his throat, tried to ignore the knotting of his stomach. With each passing second, each passing minute, it got progressively worse. He felt physically sick at the thought of what was to happen, knew that he would have to stand there and watch, helpless and alone, as the woman he loved walked into the sunlight for the last time. Giles kept his face impassive as they carefully threaded their way through the dark corridors but inwardly he was screaming. He fought against the anger and pain, needing to stay calm and strong for Buffy. She needed him in control, needed him to keep his emotions in check … needed him to help her take the final steps along the path she’d chosen. Giles tightened his grip on Buffy’s hand as they neared the library. He suddenly felt nervous, almost fearful of what would be revealed inside. He hadn’t returned after the explosion, he’d felt as though that part of his life was over … the tweedy librarian calmly packed away and a different Giles emerging. Giles took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold, stopping just inside the library. Somehow, it still felt like home … still felt as though this was where he belonged. Buffy glanced up at Giles and smiled briefly. She’d felt the atmosphere change as soon as they entered the library. It was like a cocoon of safety, a haven where no-one could ever hurt them and, more than that, it was all Giles … it was home.

"Still feels the same," commented Buffy softly and Giles smiled.

"It looks a bit battered though," he replied, glancing around.

"It still feels like home," remarked Buffy thoughtfully and Giles glanced down at her in surprise.

"Home?"

"I always felt safe here," she replied. "I always felt protected. This place was you … that’s why I loved it, that’s why I felt at home here. No matter what was happening out there," she indicated outside with a nod of her head, "I knew that as long as I could get here, get to you, then everything would work out … and it did … well, sort of, anyway."

"I never knew this place was so important to you."

"It was where you were … of course it was important." Buffy regarded Giles with a frown. "I never told you, did I? Never let on just how much you meant to me? How much you still do."

Buffy let go of Giles' hand and walked further into the library, aware of his eyes on her, watching her every movement. She turned to face him, smiling inwardly at the impassive expression on his face.

"You know, I always envied you that," she remarked and Giles frowned at her.

"Envied me what?"

"Your strength," she replied quietly. "Oh, I know … I had the physical strength, but you? You had the mental strength, not to mention that calm, 'nothing will phase me' expression you usually wear."

"You have the mental strength needed, Buffy," said Giles. "How else could you do this?"

"Because you're here," she replied succinctly, walking toward him and gazing unblinking into his eyes. "Without you, I'd have been lost. It's … it's all so confused. This … thing inside me had taken over completely. There was no 'me' left … until I saw you that is. You brought 'me' back, gave me this chance and it's your strength that will help me to take it."

Giles shook his head, trying desperately to ignore the voice in his head that was telling him it was getting lighter, much lighter. He looked down at Buffy in despair, wanting to wrap her in his arms for eternity, wanting to hold her, to keep her safe, to never let her go. Why couldn’t they have more time? Just a little … a few more moments, that’s all.

"Time to go, Giles," Buffy’s soft voice cut into his thoughts. "Come on, let’s go and see the sun."

Buffy pulled on his hand, leading him reluctantly back along the corridors. Giles’ head was in a whirl, it was an effort of epic proportions for him not to pull her back and he gritted his teeth against the tears that threatened once more. No, he thought, I have to be strong, have to be strong for Buffy. It was like a mantra and he chanted it to himself, trying to keep the pain and grief at bay for a while longer. Buffy stopped at the door, smiling softly at the now sun-drenched vista that softly beckoned to her. A few steps, she thought, and it will all be over. It's right that it should end here, in the place where it all began a few short years ago. She turned to face Giles, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"I’m not going to make any speeches, Giles," she said softly, "but I want you to know that I do love you … I love you so much."

"Buffy …" Giles’ protestations were stopped by Buffy’s finger pressing against his lips. The whole situation felt so absurd, so unreal … as though it was happening to someone else. Reality, however, came crashing in each time he felt the numbing coldness of her touch, saw the deadness in her eyes or the paleness of her skin. He knew what she expected of him, knew that she was right … but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Buffy stood on tiptoes, reaching up and Giles leaned down, meeting her halfway. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, filled with love and longing. All the love they'd never been able to express to one another was revealed as their lips merged together and Giles pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. Buffy smiled slightly before deepening the kiss, loving the sensation of Giles’ warm tongue sweeping possessively around her mouth. She felt his tears on her face, felt the tense desperation in his touch and, breaking the kiss, Buffy drew back slightly, gazing searching into the tear-filled green eyes that gazed longingly into hers. She smiled slightly, raising her free hand to caress his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered softly before gently pushing him back. She gazed intently at him, trying to memorise every crease, every line on his face. "You won't be alone, Giles. You'll never be alone."

She kept her gaze fixed firmly upon him as she walked backwards, unable to tear her eyes away from him, determined that he would be the last thing she saw. Giles felt his hands curl into fists, his knuckles turning white and his nails digging into his palms. He watched as the first rays of the sun hit her, watched as the smoke curled upwards from her. She was still smiling at him when the flames engulfed her and her body exploded into a shower of dust. Giles leant against the wall, tears streaming down his face once more. It's what she wanted, he reminded himself, you should be proud of her. I am ... but it doesn't lessen the pain, doesn't make it any more bearable. She's at peace at last, he thought, finally she can rest. At least we had the chance to say goodbye … to put things right. Wiping his eyes, Giles stepped into the sunlight, walking slowly away from the ruined school. As he did so, a gentle breeze swirled around him and he could have sworn he heard a tinkling laugh, felt her presence surrounding him, caressing him. No, he thought, I won't be alone, Buffy. I'll always have you with me.

END