"Can I help?" Giles asked, setting down on the counter the brown paper sack that contained their lunches. He unclipped Patches' lead, letting her find her way back to the basket under the counter where her son waited for her.

As he had expected, Anya shook her head and, for the thousandth time that morning, Giles couldn't help but feel superfluous in what had once been his own domain. "I've got it," she replied efficiently as she moved around the shop with three young women following in her wake and taking the spell components which she passed to them. "It's just a basic blessing ritual. You could start a fresh pot of coffee for when I'm done? Or there was a delivery while you were out..." She nodded at the large flat box that sat upon the research table.

Giles wondered if this was to be his lot, working as an overqualified stock boy. He felt it was too soon to mention the possibility of remaining to Anya, but he had still found himself ignoring the headlines of The Sunnydale Times in favour of the recruitment pages. The Magic Box was Anya's now. He could no more take away from her what she had worked so hard to earn than he could take orders from her. "I'll make the coffee... and a pot of tea and then we can deal with the merchandise... if you feel it must be done before we can eat."

Anya looked over her shoulder, treating him to a knowing smile, as she took herbs from the shelf without even needing to look at the names on the jars. "I think there are only one or two items. It won't take long."

The kettle had already been heated and Giles soon filled both the cafetiere and the teapot, taking them through to the office, out of the way until the customers were gone. He picked up the knife they used for opening boxes and made his way back onto the shop floor, arriving just as Anya was telling the three women to bring more money back soon. The bell over the outer door jingled as they left and Anya made her way over to him, her hips swaying slightly as she moved, her lightweight skirt floating around her legs. Giles was rather tempted to bolt the door, pull down the shutters and say customers be damned. Nevertheless, he had a feeling that Anya might not approve of closing the store over the lucrative college lunch hour so he waited for her to come to him, pretending that he didn't want to lay her down on the counter and make love to her.

She looped her arm around his and stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his cheek. "It isn't really merchandise... I, well, it was pay day a couple of days ago, and it's sort of a thank you for everything."

"You didn't need to—"

"I wanted to..." she paused as if she couldn't find the words for what exactly it was that she had wanted. Instead, she placed her hand over the one in which he held the blade, and Giles couldn't help but be reminded of the ritualised cutting of a wedding cake, when she moved with him to slice the plastic tapes that bound the box's lid in place. "I found it on eBay," she explained. "It said in the description, 'no reserve', but they had put in a starting bid that was two thirds of what it would be new, and this one is fifteen years old, even if they say it's hardly been used, so I contacted him and said I would give him a third of what it would cost new and since no one else had bid..."

Anya helped him push the tapes aside and took the one end of the lid, raising it gently as Giles did likewise with the other. She came to stand beside him once more as he opened out layers of bubble wrap to reveal a padded fabric bag in a reddish brown.

It's shape was unmistakably intended to hold a guitar and Giles held his breath as he slid the zip open to reveal the gleaming black lacquer of the instrument's body. Its smooth curves were slightly asymmetrical, the right hand side, the one that would rest against Giles' thigh when he played, curving gracefully to leave a gap that would allow for easier fingering of the highest notes than a traditional guitar shape. The stem of the guitar was of mahogany, the head the same glossy black as the guitar's body. A circle of iridescent grey green abalone surrounded the hole at the instrument's centre and the manufacturer's name had been inlaid into the glossy black of the head in mother of pearl between the chromed tuning knobs and there was a small design in abalone and mother of pearl next to it. It was a semi-accoustic rather than the accoustic that he tended to favour lately.

"I just couldn't imagine you with something mass produced," Anya commented softly. "And I thought it would be nice if you had one here for when you're staying with me so you don't get out of practice... Is it alright?" She looked so nervous and eager to please that Giles immediately wanted to reassure her.

He pulled her into a hug, hoping that if she were close enough she wouldn't see the hurt behind his forced smile. The gift had so obviously been chosen with exquisite care, if not a wealth of knowledge. She must have combed her way through countless listings until she found something that fitted with her idea of him and, even at her bargain price, it must have taken up more of her pay check than he would like. It was the sort of thing you did for someone you cared deeply about. It told him that his feelings were far from unrequited and for that he found that he was profoundly grateful.

It also told him that she didn't expect him to bring his old guitar and the rest of his things over from England any time soon... and that shattered hopes that he had barely acknowledged to himself. He hadn't realised how much he had needed to stay until it became obvious that she expected him to leave. It hurt more deeply than he could afford to let her know. He had to accept that his plan to look for a job in Sunnydale had obviously been premature. So much had changed between them since he arrived back in California, but not enough it seemed. Not yet. "It's beautiful," he told her in a voice roughened with emotion.