Giles drew in a deep breath of lavender and camomile scented air and then released it with a sigh. His head shifted just enough to be able to see the clock that rested on top of the room's ornate sideboard. The time for breakfast, it seemed, had long since passed.

Tentatively, he lifted the arm that had been curled around Anya's cotton-draped back and slid his shoulder out from beneath her head, pushing the pillows from his side of the bed into its place, so that she could rest on undisturbed. They had made it almost half way through 'Sense and Sensibility' and it had been late into the night before Anya had finally succumbed to sleep, only to wake again when discretion had made him rise to return to his own room. He couldn't claim that she had insisted that he remain with her. Her sleep-strangled, uncharacteristically shy whisper of, "Stay," was so quiet that, had he wished, he could easily have chosen to pretend he didn't hear it. The truth was, vulnerable as she was, he had lacked the will to deny her. With the emotional upheaval of the past day or two, Giles thought it likely she would sleep for some time, yet.

And so he found himself, in the previous day's rumpled clothes, trying to escape from the bed of the young woman that he cared, perhaps, a little too much about. He made as little noise as possible in the bathroom and was debating whether the sound of the toilet flushing would be excessively loud if he kept the door between the two rooms closed, when he heard movement in Anya's room. He hurriedly finished washing and drying his hands and drew the door far enough ajar to confirm that she had indeed awoken before he leaned back into the room and pushed the handle on the cistern.

His fingers ran nervously through his hair as he made his way back into the room. "I, em, I was hoping that I wouldn't wake you. I thought after everything you've been through that you might appreciate the rest."

Anya shrugged from her hunched up position against the headboard, and then realising that the tie on Gile's robe had worked slightly loose in the night, she turned her attention to ensuring everything that should be covered up when in the company of a male friend was covered up.

"Why, Giles?"

Unlike the previous day, her eyes, though overly bright with unshed tears, seemed to take in everything around her. Giles' mouth opened and closed as he tried to find words to reply.

She blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay and smiled at the watcher. "I'm not going to be a wet blanket, I'm not. I promise. I just need to understand what I did wrong. Maybe once I know what it was that I did..."

"You can fix it?" Giles asked, his patient tone belying the snarling of his underlying Ripper, who wanted to make sure that reconciliation with Xander was far from the forefront of her mind.

"No-o-o... Maybe. No. I mean Xander's the one who did the bad thing... even if Buffy and everyone keep making excuses for him... It was a bad thing, right?" Her voice wavered as she ran out of words.

"It was... a hurtful thing, made worse by the fact that he did not even deign to stay around long enough to deal with the consequences.

It's hard for me to comment, as an outsider, but I am not aware of any factors that had changed within your relationship between the point at which Xander asked you to marry him and the day of the wedding itself. If there were no such factors, then logic would seem to suggest that the doubts that made him back out were, in fact, there all along. As such, it was exceedingly irresponsible of him to propose in the first place. It was deeply wrong of him to build up your expectations in such a way when he was unsure of his ability to follow through. His timing, undoubtedly, could hardly have been more cruel.

Whether, though, what he did was a bad thing, is for posterity to decide."

"Damn posterity!" Anya protested. "Don't I get to decide?"

Despite himself Giles was unable to suppress a grin. "Let us say that, in this matter, whatever blame there is, lies firmly with Xander."

"Then why does it feel like it's my fault, Giles?" She looked up as he sat down on the edge of the bed and when he held out his arms she shuffled across the mattress until she could, by twisting her torso slightly, lay her head on his shoulder. "Xander walked out... and there's this great big hole in my heart where he used to be and I don't know why and I can't even talk to my best friend about it because he was my best friend."

"I... I, well... You know that—" Giles shifted awkwardly and Anya raised her head.

"Giles, it's okay. I'm not expecting you to volunteer. I know that you find me irritating and that you wanted to leave me when you thought we were engaged. You asked me here because you were sorry for me, not because you want me around, and I won't impose on you for too long—"

"Will you shut up, woman, and let me get a word in edgeways? As I recall, the fact I had a one way ticket in my pocket when we thought we were engaged was nothing more than an accident of timing. You can be rather exasperating at times, but that doesn't mean that I don't like you, and if you think I would invite someone to Paris just because I felt sorry for them, then you obviously overestimate either my wallet or my generosity."

"So you really like me?"

"I really like you. I would be honoured to be considered your friend..."

"So why did Xander... Do you think he doesn't find me attractive any more? Maybe all Xander ever wanted was the sex and he decided he didn't want to marry the cow."

Giles gave a sigh. "If that was all he wanted, don't you think you're better off without him? I'm afraid there's only one person who can tell you what Xander was thinking."

"Giles?" Anya asked, her voice quivering. "If we had never gotten our memories back after Willow's spell, would you have left?"

The silence between them stretched until Giles couldn't bear it any longer. "It's rather difficult to say on the basis of no more than a few hours," he began, only to feel Anya stiffening within his arms. "But, no, I don't think I would have."

"So it isn't my fault?"

"No, it isn't your fault," Giles agreed gently, his hand reaching up to stroke the soft corn-gold waves of her hair. He didn't know whether he hated Xander for hurting her so much or loved him for setting her free.

Anya gave a quick sniff and then drew back slightly, fumbling in the pocket of Giles' robe until she found an only slightly used tissue. She blew her nose and dabbed around her eyes with her fingers until she was sure any tears had been brushed away. "Giles?" she asked. "Would you still like me if I'd done something mean? Something to punish Xander?"

The watcher took a deep breath and steeled himself for the worst. "What sort of something are you talking about?"

Anya bit her lip and grimaced slightly. "I left his car in the short term parking at LAX."

Giles felt laughter and relief bubble up inside him. "I think it might take a little more than that to make me change my mind."