Title: "Journeys End In Lovers Meeting" (4/8)
Author: Della
Disclaimer: None of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer characters are mine... They belong to Joss Wheddon and UPN and WB and any others that have a rightful claim to them and the programme... No infringement was ever intended with this fanfiction...
Feedback: Yes please... *Constructive* flames keep the fire burning, but the good stuff keeps it alive...

Author's Note: Many, many thanks for the wonderful feedback I have been receiving on this... Makes me want to write more, I can assure you... And Nikki, thank you for your Beta-ing and your very kind words...

Once again Giles found himself looking out over the lake; his haven since his return. A mist hovered above the stagnant water, as if afraid to touch it, reminding Giles of many a horror story he'd read when he had been a child. A nip in the air had also descended and he pulled his jacket a little tighter around him at the thought of it.

Nessie snorted every once in a while, but whether it was because of the silence that surrounded them all or whether several blades of grass had tickled her nose, Giles was not sure. Still, he glanced over at the mare, just to make sure she was okay, and on finding her with her head dipped towards the ground, chomping on the grass there, he returned his attention to Sophie, whom had apparently decided that his lap was the perfect cushion. As he stroked her back, he held up the second Valentine's Card he'd received in front of him and re-read the short verse...

Just the thought of you
And I tingle wholly...
Just a smile from you
And I fell in love...
Totally...

x x

'More unrequited love,' he thought, 'So sad.'

Sophie whined a little and he looked down at her. "You feel it too, do you, girl?" he asked in a soothing tone. "Well, so do I." Sophie blinked up at him, rubbed her head against his side and then settled again, her tail thumping merrily against his thigh as he stroked her back. Giles chuckled, but as he looked out over the lake again, his thoughts began to consider the mystery woman.

He sighed and truly wished, not for the first time and he supposed not the last either, that she would make her presence known to him. He was usually up for a challenge or two, especially when it consisted of using his brain on solving a mystery, but this type of mystery had him far more concerned for the unknown woman, than feeling intrigued. He wanted to console her, let her down, now, before she got herself to a stage where she would be hurt more than she appeared already. It almost made him feel guilty for sending Buffy his thoughts, his unrequited love, than to this unknown woman... Which, he quickly concluded, was ridiculous because he had no idea who this woman was or where he *could* send his thoughts, if he was indeed inclined to do so. And yet, he still wished he could do *something* for her.

He jumped slightly, startled by a sudden growl from Sophie. The Labrador's ears were pricked and her teeth were bared as she growled. Giles looked in the direction of where Sophie was looking, but couldn't see anything. He stroked her back and soothingly whispered, "What is it, girl?"

He almost wrenched his arm when she suddenly leapt from his lap and scurried off into the woods that were nearby. Giles stood and was mounting Nessie, just as he saw a golden tail disappear in the undergrowth. He kicked the mare hard, and several times, on the flank, immediately promising himself to apologise later for his harshness, then leant forward in the saddle and urged Nessie on.

Nessie complained the sudden pain by stomping her hoof, but when her master urged her again, she suddenly shot off after the dog.

Giles gasped when he heard a shot and then howls of pain come from the woods. He urged Nessie on into them, ducking a branch here and there, as he propelled them both on. His heart beat a pace that would have embarrassed an athlete, such was his fear for his loveable Labrador. He suddenly pulled hard on the reigns when he found Sophie lying on her side with a bloody patch covering her head.

Nessie reared once at the sudden command to stop, but landed with a thud and then stood still.

Giles dismounted and ran to Sophie, his heart pounding in his chest. He placed a hand to hers and felt a small amount of relief to feel it rise underneath his touch. He looked up and around the clearing and spied a man with a two-bore shotgun standing in the cover of the trees. His instinct wanted revenge, instant and as painful as he could inflict, but his heart, his love for Sophie, demanded that he take care of her. He stroked her side, whispered soothing comforting words to her, then as he warned her that he was about to hurt her, he placed a hand underneath her rump and another under her shoulders and picked her up.

He fought her movements of escape, did his best to ignore her whining pleas of pain that echoed in the clearing, but he could not stop the tears that instantly rose in him. He tried to blink them away, but they silently fell with each pain-filled whine that came from Sophie. "It's all right, girl," he whispered brokenly, "it's all right." On and on he whispered this mantra, until he had Sophie lying across Nessie's neck and he was kicking and turning the mare for home.

# #

He could not remember getting to the farmhouse, only that he was now pulling on the reigns to stop Nessie's gallop. Giles yelled at the top of his lungs for his father to come out. He dismounted, keeping a hand on Sophie's body, and then as gently as he could he slid her from Nessie's neck. His heart lurched when little protest came from the Labrador. He immediately turned with Sophie in his arms and half-jogged to the Land Rover.

"Oh Dear God," Harold gasped, and was beside his son in an instant.

Giles gently placed Sophie on the back seat and then turned to his father. "I need to get her to the vet."

"What happened?"

"There's no time, I need to get her there now," Giles snapped at him.

Harold briefly blinked at him, but then said, "Stay here," and when it looked to him as though his son was about to protest, he added with conviction, "I know the way, and you need to see to Nessie."

"But..."

"As you say, son, no time." With that, Harold jumped onto the driver's seat, started the Land Rover and then sped away, leaving a cloud of dusty gravel in its wake.

# #

Buffy had gotten to the card first this time, but instead of eagerly opening it, she waited until Willow was with her. As they both sat on the couch, she again ripped the side of the envelope, pulled out the card and immediately read the hand-written poem she knew would be inside...

To thee I do commend my watchful soul
Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes
Sleeping and waking,
O defend me still...

My love
x x

Buffy groaned again as she saw that it was from LA.

Willow took the envelope and card from her and read the poem first. She had the first card in her hand and read that poem too. She so desperately wanted them to have been from Giles, but the more she read them, the more she was convinced they were from Angel. She looked at Buffy and whispered, "What are you going to do now, Buffy?" She'd already asked the question with the first card that had arrived, but Buffy had said, 'wait and see if another arrives, before we start thinking about what to do.' Well, that time had arrived and she wanted to know... now! She wanted to know whether her heart should be weeping for Giles or not.

Buffy shrugged, "I'm gonna have to call Angel and let him know how I feel."

Willow didn't trust Buffy when it came to dealing with Angel and she felt guilty because of it, but it also had her offering, "Do you want *me* to?"

Buffy silently shook her head, "No, I'd better do it," she said, but quickly added, "Just make sure that I *do* tell him, though, okay?"

Willow smiled, bolstered by Buffy's apparent willingness that no-matter-what she wanted Angel to know that she loved Giles. Her heart bloomed as she nodded and promised she would.

Buffy grasped Willow's hand for courage, went to the phone and dialled the number for Angel Investigations.

"Hello, Angel Investigations, Cordelia Chase speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hello Cordy," Buffy muttered, "Is Angel there?"

"Buffy!" Cordelia exclaimed with pleasure, "Yeah, Angel's here, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Willow's fine... we're all fine..." Buffy answered monotone and without feeling.

"Right," Cordelia answered, and after a brief moment of silence, she sarcastically added, "Well, so good to hear that. I'm fine and Angel's fine too. Not that you really wanted to know that, or care about."

"Can I just speak with Angel, Cordy?" Buffy insisted. She heard a brief flurry of movement at the other end of the receiver and then,

"Buffy?"

"Hi..."

"Has something happened? Are you all right?"

Buffy could hear his concern in his voice and it pulled hard on her heart, but not as hard as the emptiness she felt from missing Giles. "I don't love you anymore, Angel," she said, "I... I mean I do, but I'm not *in* love with you..."

"I know..." Angel replied.

"You do?"

"Uh-huh..."

"Then... then why are you sending me Valentine Cards?"

"Why am I..." Angel began, "Buffy," he said, "I haven't sent you *any* Valentine Cards."

"You, uh... you haven't?"

"No, the um, the only Valentine Card I *have* sent was to Cordy."

Buffy blushed the deepest and hottest of reds, "You... you and Cordy, huh?" she eventually managed to splutter with a giggle of embarrassment that rapidly dissipated.

"Yeah, me and Cordy," Angel replied, a little put out by the giggle, and tersely added, "Something wrong with that, Buffy?"

"No, nothing at all," Buffy said with conviction, "In fact," she added, "you've made me the happiest woman alive..."

"I have?"

"Uh-huh," Buffy happily confirmed, the smile showing not only on her face but also in her voice.

Angel chuckled at her, relieved that there was no problem, and then asked, "So, someone's been sending you Valentine Cards, eh? Any idea who?"

Suddenly Buffy deflated. The mention of the cards suddenly brought her back to earth with a 'thump'. If not Angel, then who? If she wasn't in love with Giles she would probably be doing cartwheels right about now, but she *was* in love with him and knowing that these cards couldn't have come from him, where she should have felt pleased, only made her feel more morose. "Only you..." Buffy weakly replied.

"Yeah? What made you think of me, not that, not that I'm not flattered or anything..."

Buffy giggled a little at that and thought, 'Same old Angel'. She decided to explain, "The only reason I thought it was you was because the postmark on the envelopes both said LA..."

"That's all? I mean," Angel added, "LA's a pretty big place, Buffy, and it wouldn't surprise me if someone from Sunnydale had moved away to here. I did," he decided to add.

Buffy shrugged, "I guess," she quietly admitted, "the *writing* might-a had something to do with it too. It was that fancy stuff you like. Uh, Shakespeare... All thee's, thou's and thus's..."

Knowing Buffy's aversion to such a thing, Angel softly chuckled, "Hmm, you don't think it could be Giles, then?" he suggested.

Though Buffy wanted to believe with all her heart that it could be, the postmark was strongly telling her that it couldn't possibly be. "The postmark says it's someone from LA," Buffy muttered dejectedly and added, "And what makes you think they might be from Giles anyway?"

"Well, I've seen him outsmart the Council with the very same trick."

"You have?"

"Uh-huh," Angel confirmed and explained, "A Shaman friend of his was being hunted by them, so Giles, and let me tell you, he has friends all over the world, got a friend of his somewhere in the middle-east to send a bogus pleading letter from the Shaman to him from there."

"Did it work?" Buffy asked, suddenly intrigued by the story, rather than whether the cards had actually been from Giles.

Angel laughed out loud again, and when he managed to get himself under some sort of control, he spluttered, "Did it work this time?"

Buffy blushed and softly asked, "You really think they *could* be from Giles?"

"Well, there's no other man I know, okay, other than me," he chuckled, "that would recite Shakespeare in a Valentine's card... And besides," he added, "he's loved you for so long now, Buffy."

"So I keep being told," Buffy huffed, "It would-a been nice if someone had told *me*, y'know," she whined.

"Sure Buffy," Angel replied with a hint of laughter, "sure."

Buffy dramatically harrumphed, but then started to giggle. Then she whispered with all that her heart could muster, "Thanks, Angel."

"No problem, just go get him and keep him," Angel replied, "He's a good man to have by your side."

Buffy nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her and then softly replied, "I know... now," she added.

"Good," Angel replied, the after a moment's silence, he said, "Um, listen, I've got to go. Cordy's poking me in the ribs reminding me, in the only way that Cordy *can* remind me, that we've got a dinner date tonight and that no way on earth is she going with a scruff."

Buffy laughed out loud at that and said, "Okay I'm going too."

"Okay... and Buffy?" Angel added.

"Yeah?"

"Make sure you keep him this time."

"I will, Angel, I will," she promised, and felt her heart fill with love, for Giles and also for Angel, finally realising, there and then, the difference between the two that she felt.

# #

Harold slowly exited the Land Rover, his heart heavy with loss and his eyes full to the brim with tears. He choked back the need to cry, locked the car door and made his way to the farmhouse. He had his hand up, with the key to open his front door poised, when the door suddenly swung open. He only had to look at his son and he knew his face had said it all. He pushed the door open a little further and silently entered the house.

He felt an arm go around him and another hugging and comforting him. He heard whispered words of that same comfort coming from his son. He felt the hitching breaths from him that tore at his own heart. He then heard an apology from his son and a regret that he had ever returned, and, despite losing Sophie, this regret had him weeping uncontrollably into his son's embrace.

He wanted to tell him that he was being silly, that despite Sophie's demise, he would not trade a moment of his son's company, but his voice had vanished, leaving a hitching, weeping noise in its place. He tried desperately to pull himself together, but the warmth and easy acceptance of his emotional display had him crying harder instead. He hugged his son to him, hoping to convey within his embrace everything that he could not verbalise, but he felt he was failing.

# #

Giles took one look at his father and knew that Sophie was gone. All at once varying degrees of emotion hit him hard. The want of revenge on Bert, the poacher whom had shot Sophie, the love he'd had for the Labrador, the loss of her, the pain of seeing his father close to tears, all of them buffeted him into submission.

He grasped his father and pulled him into a hug, whispering his, what he thought, ineffectual words of comfort and his regret of his return. He tightened his grip on his father, as he broke down against him. He wanted to say more, but a lump caught at the back of his throat, rendering him silent. On and on he held his father, grasped him tighter still as the shuddering and weeping strengthened, wishing this pain, a pain he felt he had caused, would leave his father alone.

Eventually he felt his father's shuddering subside. He placed a hand on his back and began a circular pattern of comfort there, whispering words he hoped would ease whatever he was going through. He felt a hand on his shoulder and a gentle push from it. He moved away, so that he could look at his father, but still kept contact with him on the arms. On seeing the tear stained face, he felt his own tears rise in him but fought the expression of them. First he needed to be certain that his father was all right. He decided to ask, "Father?" he whispered, only then, when hearing a huskiness to his own voice, was he aware of how affected he was by his father's breakdown.

"I'm... I'm all right, son..." Harold murmured, but not without a quiver to his voice.

"I'm so very sorry... sorry, father," Giles whispered, still fighting the urge to cry.

Harold looked up at his son, knowing he could do little with how he looked and tried to smile a smile of re-assurance, but the pain of losing Sophie made it wobble. Eventually he grasped his son around the back of his neck, placed his forehead to his and whispered, "I... I know you are, son, but... but this is not your fault."

Giles pulled away from his father and paced a quick two-step pace in front of him. "Can you honestly say, Father," he angrily asked, "that if I had not returned that Sophie would still be lying dead at the vets today?"

Harold shook his head, "No... no, I can't say that," he whispered, and added, "and... and more than likely she *might* still be alive, but what is and... and what might have been, can... can never truly be contested."

Giles stood stock still in front of his father and stared at him. All of a sudden, because his father was justifying his return to him, he felt the first of his tears fall and a harsh pain envelop his heart. He turned smartly on his heel and left the home.

# #

Harold watched a flicker of emotion pass over his son's face and wished he could stop it before it reached his heart. When the first tears fell he wanted to reach out to him, but before he could, he watched his son turn away from him and leave.

He sat down on the couch, placed his head in his hands and wept a little more. He wept for the loss of Sophie and also for the pain that his son was feeling and *had* been feeling from his first step inside the farmhouse door. Harold pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his eyes, and to the room he softly vowed, "Time to put an end to this, my boy, whether... whether you like it or not..."

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