Archive of Our Own

Giles was halfway down the hall before it hit him—the look in Jenny’s eyes, soft and hopeful and completely unguarded. Not once had he ever seen her exude such earnest warmth, free of even the chilly, careful armor she’d donned to get through the last month and a half. Stripped of her defenses, everything that she was—was gentle. Gentle, and she was sitting in that classroom by herself, surviving on only a handful of hopeful words. That couldn’t be allowed.

He turned on his heel. The light was still on. Jenny was clearly going to be there for much longer. There was absolutely no reason for him to go home right now, no matter how it would look. He’d been worried about seeming desperate, clinging, pathetic if he’d shown his hand, admitted that he loved her when this could have just been a game on her part, but it wasn’t. He knew her. He had been careful with her every step of the way because of how well he knew her. The way he’d treated her this month—his anger had been legitimate, the space between them a necessity if only for Buffy’s sake, but now that there was no reason for him to be apart from her, why on earth would he pretend at wanting it?

He hurried down the hall at a run. She had shut the door after him. Not wanting to startle her, he knocked—first politely, then insistently.

Jenny opened the door. When she saw it was him, her irritated expression gave way to one of…well, irritated affection. “Forget something?” she said.

“You could say that,” said Giles, and kissed her.

He felt the change in her the moment she was in his arms. Their kisses had always been shockingly tender after that mishap with the crossbow, but this…Jenny clung to him with the exact longing and desperation that he’d always felt so humiliated by, the same terrified adoration that he’d been so sure she could never feel towards him. She made a needy little noise in the back of her throat, tightly gripping his lapels. Her cheeks were wet against his.

“Jenny,” he whispered, breaking the kiss to press his mouth tenderly against her cheek. Blotting away the tears. “Come home with me.”

Immediately, Jenny shook her head, pulling back with wide, frightened eyes. “No,” she said, so firmly that it startled Giles. “No, Rupert, I…” She hugged her elbows, glancing sidelong towards her computer. “I have to finish this.”

“Do you?” said Giles, leaning forward. Tucking a flyaway gently behind her ear, and letting his hand linger. “Really?”

A reluctant smile stole across Jenny’s face. “Why, Mr. Giles,” she said, reaching up to place her hand over his. (Giles felt as though he might combust with joy.) “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“I don’t know,” said Giles in a low murmur, stepping closer. “Is it working?”

“I…” Jenny blushed. Giles was struck by the delight of having put that blush there. Suddenly, he entirely understood exactly why Jenny had liked needling him so much. “I don’t…” She seemed to be fumbling, shyly, with her words, eyes darting furtively down towards his mouth as though not quite sure whether to admit that they wanted to look.

He caught her face in his hands and kissed her again, soft, sweet, slow. He was struck with the thought that he could spend his whole life kissing this woman, struck again with the thought that he might, because she loved him—and he had known it in the abstract, but whether or not she’d admit to it had still been up in the air. It hung between them even now.

“I love you,” he murmured against her mouth, and felt Jenny’s tearful, indrawn breath. She tried to pull back and look at him, but he wouldn’t let her, holding her exactly where she was so that he could press tender kisses to every inch of her face. “I love you.” A soft kiss just at the damp spot under her eye. “I love you.” A kiss to her temple. “I love—”

“Oh, that’s not fair!” said Jenny, her tone of voice caught somewhere between indignance and heart-melting contentment. Startled, Giles’s head dropped as he started to laugh. “Don’t—do not,” said Jenny, whacking his shoulder. “I told you I have to finish this up! And you can’t just—”

Giles raised his head again, eyes shining, and pressed a kiss to the hollow of Jenny’s throat.

“O-h,” said Jenny, and stumbled back against the chalkboard, surrendering entirely as Giles continued to kiss her. He heard breathless little whispers, the very same sweet nothings that he’d been so certain she’d tease him if he ever said, but she was saying them as though she’d locked them in her heart just for him. Her heart was in his hands. He felt impossibly stupid for thinking, even for a moment, that she hadn’t a heart at all.

As an apology, he raised his face to hers, pressing his forehead against her own. Her eyes were shut, but her eyelashes fluttered at the touch, her lips parting as though already anticipating another kiss from him. He stayed there for a moment, staring at her with adoring disbelief. Not once had he ever seen her so still. So trusting.

“I love you,” he said, quiet and clear. No kisses to muffle the words or make them a whisper.

Jenny opened her eyes. Tears were falling again, just as silently as before. “I love you,” she whispered back.

Nothing that Giles had ever felt in his life compared to this moment. Carefully, gently, he took Jenny’s hands in his, pressing a kiss to the knuckles, and earned a tearful smile in return. “Come home with me,” he repeated.

Jenny’s smile flickered. “I—can’t.”

“What on earth could possibly be more important—”

He had meant the question to be teasing, but guilt settled upon Jenny’s face like a storm cloud. Suddenly, Giles regretted asking at all. “I have to make this up to Buffy,” she said. “To you. I, I don’t think I have the right to just—delay—anymore, and I don’t want—” She sniffled, trying to withdraw her hands. Giles didn’t let her. With a small, wobbly sigh, she acquiesced, ducking her head. “I don’t want to take what isn’t deserved,” she said.

Giles blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I can’t be happy with you when I haven’t earned—”

“Oh, Jenny, no,” said Giles, his voice breaking, and caught her in another flurry of kisses. “Sweetheart, this isn’t—I’ve, I’ve wanted to forgive you since the very—if Buffy’s all right with the way things are, I want to be with you, I—” Her expression hadn’t changed. “No, actually, fuck this,” said Giles emphatically, and tucked his arm around Jenny’s waist, ignoring her startled yelp as he steered her firmly out of the computer lab. “You’re not doing this. If this is some sort of misguided attempt to earn my love—”

“I don’t deserve it!”

Giles stopped in his tracks. An entire year of Jenny’s teasing, needling banter had suddenly been horribly reconfigured. “You can’t honestly think that,” he said weakly.

Jenny was already trying to squirm out of his grip and back into the computer lab. “We can talk about all of this once I’ve finished what I’m doing,” she was saying, tugging impatiently at Giles’s hand, which had not let go of and was in fact digging tightly into her waist. “I just, I can’t spend another night with you pretending that I don’t have responsibilities to fulfil. I want to prove to both of us that I’m better than, than—”

Giles turned her towards him, taking her hands tightly in his, and said, softly, fiercely, “Jenny, I love you.”

“Don’t do that!” Jenny tried to tug her hands free. “I have to get this done—”

“And it can’t wait?”

“The last time I decided that something could wait, I fucked you and Buffy over so thoroughly that you both spent a month not talking to me, so, no, it can’t wait,” said Jenny, who no longer looked so content or unguarded. The absence of that joy on her face was enough to make Giles stumble in his own convictions, and when his grip loosened, she pulled her hands away. “Please,” she said. “I want to see you tonight. I just don’t want to see you if I haven’t earned—”

“I am so sorry,” said Giles.

Jenny looked at him with complete bemusement. “What the hell do you think you have to be sorry for?”

The words weren’t coming to Giles as easily as he wanted them to. Needed them to. “I didn’t ever think you would feel it a necessity to earn back my love,” he said unsteadily. “I don’t want you to feel as though I am so inconstant that you have to do it. If you want to do what’s right by me, Jenny, do what I’m asking you to do, not what you think I need done.”

Jenny’s sharp, defensive expression was beginning to give way to that sweet, uncertain warmth. In a small voice, she said, “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you,” Giles leaned in, brushing his nose against hers, “to come home with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” He could feel her trembling against him. “And I might get angry with you when you don’t tell me things, Jenny, but that will never mean that my love for you is something that goes away. I haven’t once stopped loving you all month. I want you to come home with me so I can prove that to you. I don’t want you to feel as though I am something you have to earn.”

Still in that tentative little voice, Jenny said, “Rupert, I have never been with anyone like you. I don’t know how to understand someone like you loving me the way that you do. It makes things make more sense if I’m—if I can give you something to make up for how difficult I know I’ve been through—all of this.”

Giles kissed a spot just under her ear. “I like that you’re difficult,” he said affectionately, which made her let out a breath that sounded encouragingly close to a laugh. “I’ve—I’ve never asked you to be anything other than what you are. And if I really didn’t enjoy how much of a runaround you give me about absolutely everything, I think I would have called this off quite a long time ago, wouldn’t I?”

“You did,” said Jenny, a waver in her voice.

Giles’s easy smile flickered. “I did,” he echoed quietly. “But that was—” Somewhere down the hall, a door creaked open. “Look, Jenny, why don’t we—”

“No,” said Jenny. “You did call this off.” There was a bright, triumphant fire in her eyes, the way she always got when she found a thread in his argument to pull at, and usually Giles found it impossibly charming, but right now, he didn’t particularly like it at all—not when his argument was that he loved her, had always loved her, and that she didn’t have to earn it back. Had never lost it to begin with. “You called it off, and I—” Abruptly, her face lost all color.

Slowly, Giles turned around.

“No, keep going,” said Angelus, waving a hand. “I’m into this. Who called what off?”

Immediately, Giles placed himself in front of Jenny, entirely ignoring her futile attempts to get in front of him. “Angelus,” he said, careful, level. His mind was running in fast-forward through absolutely every little anecdote he’d read over the course of the last month—bodies strung up, dissected, artfully displayed.

“Rupert,” said Angelus, with exaggerated formality. “You mind stepping out of the way?”

Something clicked in Giles’s mind. Still with his arm flung defensively in front of Jenny, he looked towards her—and saw that, while she was scared, she didn’t at all look surprised. “There’s not a lot you can do, Angel,” she said. “I’ve got the research backed up in three different places.”

“The—research?” Panic had slowed Giles’s processing capacities. It had been so easy to think before he’d realized that he wasn’t Angelus’s primary target. That, in fact, the woman he loved more than anything in the world had very possibly made herself a target in an attempt to earn herself forgiveness. God, he was going to be sick.

“You didn’t tell him?” Angelus sounded delightedly, maliciously amused. “Oh, Janna. Don’t you ever learn?” He took a step forward. “Secrets, secrets are no fun.”

“Leave him alone,” said Jenny, measured and calm.

“Don’t—”

Effortlessly, Angelus shoved Giles aside, now toe-to-toe with Jenny. “Secrets, secrets—” His hand shot out, closing around Jenny’s throat. “Hurt someone.”

Giles saw red. Without even a moment of critical thought behind the action, he threw himself at Angelus, wrapping his arms around Angelus’s shoulders and tipping the both of them backwards. Angelus’s grip on Jenny loosened, enough for her to slide, coughing and choking, to the floor; Giles held fast, ignoring Angelus’s attempts to shake him off. “Jenny, run!” he shouted.

Jenny stumbled to her feet and stayed exactly where she was. “Get off of him, Rupert,” she said, her voice breaking. “You can’t protect me from this.”

Angelus, however, seemed to have gotten over the surprise. In one smooth twist, he had grabbed Giles’s arm and broken it as effortlessly as one might snap a pencil between their hands. Giles heard the noise before he felt the pain. “She’s right, you know,” said Angelus, watching Giles fall to the ground. “This isn’t your time to die, old man.”

Jenny had taken off running the very moment that she was certain Angelus would follow her. Anything to divert his attention from Rupert, slumped prone on the ground, arm bent at a horrifying angle. Here, and hurt, only because he had been so fucking convinced that she deserved to be loved after everything she’d done. What the hell would he think now?

They’d kissed. He’d held her. She could die thinking about that, and the way he’d said I love you to Janna and Jenny alike. All things considered, it was a better bargain than she’d thought that she would get. She ran up the stairs, chest burning, thinking of absolutely nothing but getting Angelus as far away from Rupert as possible. Trying not to think about how Rupert was in no condition to even move, let alone get up and run away, and how it wasn’t at all like Rupert to run away from a fight anyway.

Angelus caught her in his arms. She screamed.

“Sorry, Jenny,” he said, that demonic face stretched wide in a grin. “This is where you—”

There was a splash, followed closely by the sound of sizzling flesh. Angelus’s grip loosened on Jenny as he fell back, screaming in pain. He’d doubled over on the floor by the time that a strong arm closed around Jenny’s waist, pulling her tightly and briskly down the stairs.

“Used up—all the holy water in the library.” Rupert’s voice was incredibly strained as he tossed the now-empty carton to the side. “Had it sent over—from England—last year. Protocol. Supposed—to ration it out—but given the, the time—”

“How did you—?”

“I honestly don’t know,” said Rupert weakly. Now that it was clear Jenny was following him, his steps began to waver and slow. “Just—had to get you out of there.”

“Is he—”

“That was at least a gallon of holy water. He isn’t getting up any time soon.” Rupert swayed on his feet. “Have to get you out of here.”

“I’m more worried about you right now,” said Jenny unsteadily. Rupert’s right arm hung loosely by his side, still bent at that horrible angle. “That doesn’t look good.”

“Feels worse,” said Rupert, gritting his teeth and trying to smile. Tears sprung to Jenny’s eyes. “I’m all right,” he assured her. “I’m alive.”

“This is all my fault,” Jenny whispered. “I am so—”

“Oh, don’t,” said Rupert, earnest and shaking, and drew Jenny into a quick, fierce kiss with his good hand. When she stumbled, dizzy with a mixture of relief and affection, he wrapped his arm around her waist again, pulling her urgently down the hall until they reached the double doors leading out of the school. “We’ll have t-to go to yours,” said Rupert, pushing Jenny clumsily through the doors before following her himself. “He’s still got the invitation to mine. No time to pick up the book from Willow, and I don’t want to risk casting the spell when—”

“Your car or mine?”

Rupert raised his arm in what was clearly intended to be a pointed gesture, but had to lower it halfway through, drawing in a pained breath.

“You know what, you deserved that,” said Jenny flippantly, mostly instinctively, before the words caught up to her and tears flew to her eyes. “Oh, God, Rupert, I didn’t mean—”

Mouth twitching, Rupert gathered Jenny in, pressing a reassuring kiss to the top of her head. “My favorite viper,” he said, which made Jenny laugh wetly and press her forehead against his chest. “Let’s get home.”

The pain in Giles’s arm wasn’t subsiding even slightly, but going to a hospital simply wasn’t an option given the circumstances. Jenny stripped Giles of his jacket first, drawing in a sharp, horrified breath when she saw the blood and protruding bone, but she set her jaw, gritted her teeth, and removed his shirt as well, moving as gently and slowly as possible in the process. Giles, who hadn’t given much thought to how Jenny might handle serious injury, found himself overwhelmed by how determined she was to take care of him, even considering how abjectly gruesome his arm looked under bright lights. Angelus hadn’t been forgiving. “You—” He was at a loss for words. “This isn’t—”

“I am so sorry,” said Jenny. Her hands were shaking as she pressed a bandage against Giles’s arm, attempting to stop the bleeding. “This is all my fault. Again.”

“You know that’s not true,” said Giles steadily. “I made myself a target, and I’m glad I did.”

“Don’t say that!”

“Jenny, he was going to kill you.” Giles could not keep his voice even and calm for that. “He had arrived at the school intending to kill you. Had I not been there, he would have succeeded. I would rather Angelus rip my arm off entirely than—” He could no longer continue. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jenny, framed in that window, still and shaking. Angelus’s hand at her waist, gathering her close. He’d spent a good month reading about exactly what Angelus did to beautiful women.

Jenny was hardly listening. “You were there because of me,” she was saying. “If you hadn’t been there—”

“You would be dead.”

“Is that really that bad?”

Forgetting entirely about his arm, Giles stood up, staring at Jenny with a convoluted mixture of horror, misery, and violent anger. “Are you telling me that you would rather be dead than see me briefly injured?” he said sharply.

“Rupert, there is bone sticking out of your arm.”

“I don’t care, Jenny. How do you not understand that? It hurts, it’s inconvenient, I’m not exactly pleased to be in pain, but I sustained this injury protecting you, and I love you. There is no scenario where I regret being there to make sure you don’t die when—”

“You weren’t supposed to be there!” Jenny burst out. “You were supposed to just leave!”

Giles was opening his mouth to yet again draw attention to exactly how dead Jenny would be had he left when he was supposed to—and then his eyes landed on Jenny, and the way she was looking at him. The penny dropped. “Jenny, you haven’t been in love before,” he said unsteadily, sitting down a little harder than he’d intended to. “And you—you haven’t had anyone love you, had you?”

Jenny pressed her lips tightly together, hugging her elbows, and stared defensively at him, as if daring him to use this new piece of information to try and hurt her.

“It’s frightening,” said Giles. He gave her a small, wobbly smile. “Isn’t it? It’s as though someone is—is wearing your heart into battle, every day. Especially when we live like we do. The way I felt when Eyghon had you, it…” He remembered the dizzy, immobilizing grief, profound enough to cut through days of alcohol. “I’d never want you to feel like that. I suppose I didn’t realize what my getting hurt would do to you. But I promise I’m all right. I really am.”

Jenny’s determined defensiveness was starting to give way. Large brown eyes stared at him with terrified vulnerability. “I was so scared,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I thought—I thought if he killed me—it would give you time to get away. I didn’t know I could think like that.”

“I’ve really bollocksed this up, haven’t I?” Giles moved forward, just a bit, to let his knees bump against Jenny’s on the couch. “I truly didn’t think you would—that is, I—” He took a steadying breath, ignoring the pain and the ever-present, ever-pricking anxiety. He wouldn’t lose her if he misspoke. He hadn’t completely known that until tonight. “I was so afraid I didn’t know you,” he said. “When all of this came out, I…I was struck by how incredibly easy it would be to take advantage of how very much I love you.” Jenny’s eyes filled with tears, and he leaned forward, pressing a soothing kiss to her forehead. “I know you wouldn’t,” he murmured. “I know that. I do. I just, I, I always felt…there had to be some mistake, you loving me like you did.”

“Like I do,” said Jenny, in a small, clear voice.

Oh, his brave darling. Giles kissed her, feeling her wobbly smile against his mouth. “Like you do,” he softly confirmed.

Something in Jenny’s face had relaxed, if only slightly. “You felt like you didn’t deserve it,” she said. 

The tension in Giles’s chest unspooled entirely. Finally, he thought, dizzy with relief. “Yes,” he said, careful, encouraging.

“But—you do,” said Jenny, raising a small hand to his cheek. “How could you not?”

Giles turned his face towards Jenny’s touch, closing his eyes. He felt certain that the pain in his arm had diminished with just that simple brush of gentle, elegant fingers against his skin. “You don’t have to earn it, Jenny,” he said, barely a whisper. “All right?”

When he opened his eyes again, Jenny was looking at him as though seeing him for the very first time. “Is that how you feel about me?”

“Yes,” said Giles, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. “Yes, Jenny, I—always.”

“Oh!” said Jenny, and all but threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Giles felt his arm protest at this and ignored it entirely, wrapping both of his arms around Jenny and almost certainly getting blood on her lovely, gauzy blouse. She was starting to really cry. “Oh, oh my God, Rupert, I—”

Giles kissed her hair. It was taking quite a lot of willpower to not let the pain in his arm render him unconscious, but he was damn well determined to keep himself upright for this. “Whatever you’ve done,” he told her, “or tried to do, I’m grateful for it, but it isn’t—you don’t have to earn back what’s freely given, all right? Not with me.”

“It just feels too easy,” Jenny sobbed. “After—everything—”

Giles closed his eyes. He thought he might be starting to cry himself. “I never thought this month would have the impact on you that it did,” he said shakily. “Never meant to drive you to a point where you placed your life on the line to try and earn my forgiveness. Jenny—” He drew her face up to his, kissing soft and insistent where the tears fell. She moved towards him, pressing herself up against him in a way that felt less sensual and more desperate.

How had he missed this? He’d always thought her slow, tender caresses were meant to draw him out, make him feel good. Never had he once considered that she might be hiding the same scared hesitance that characterized his every moment with her. “You are so infinitely precious to me,” he whispered. “Promise me that you will never do something like this again.”

“Rupert—”

“I can promise you that I won’t ever put you in this position,” said Giles shakily. “I never thought you would care about losing me to this extent.”

“I didn’t think you’d miss me if something happened to me!” Jenny was really, truly crying. “You left me for a month and you—you wouldn’t so much as look at me! I thought I could at least give you something, something to make it better, I—” She pressed her head against his chest for just a moment. “I know you loved me,” she said. “I’m not that dense. But the way that everything came out broke your heart. I didn’t know if you could ever forgive me, and I couldn’t ask you for forgiveness when you couldn’t even look at me.”

“I couldn’t look at you because I don’t have it in me to stop looking at you, Jenny,” said Giles.

Jenny looked up at him with actual hunger. She didn’t say anything at all, just waited, something hopeful to the way her fingers curled and pressed against his bare chest.

It took Giles a moment to realize what she was waiting for. When it finally hit him, a soft, warm joy unfolded in his chest. He’d held it all back, certain that she’d flinch away from any serious commitment, but she wanted—she needed— “I love you so much,” he said, soft and steady. “You have changed the very course of my life. I never thought I could be as happy within my calling as you make me, and I never imagined a world where I could share my life with another person. Someone who understands me, and understands the duties I can never entirely give up. I, I know I’m not—” He ducked his head, letting out an embarrassed breath. “I’m fifteen years older than you. I’m rather set in my ways, and, and hardly as interesting as the people you generally surround yourself with. I’ve never been one to go on wild adventures, but when I’m with you, I’d like to learn how to be that sort of person. You make my life…well, lively.”

Jenny moved forward, winding her arms shyly around his neck, and settled into his embrace.

“Don’t you ever place your life on the line as an apology to me,” said Giles, quietly, firmly. “That is not something I will ever ask you to do. Not for any reason.”

Jenny sighed, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. “Can I apologize?” she asked softly.

“You’ve done more than enough apologizing tonight.” Giles kissed her temple. “Will you accept another apology from me?”

A moment of hesitation. Then, against Giles’s skin, a wobbly nod.

“All right.” The excruciating pain in Giles’s arm was beginning to catch back up to him. “I…I do think I might be unconscious in a minute, though, Jenny, which I hope won’t alarm you too greatly—”

“Oh,” Jenny gasped, pulling back to hastily press some ice to Giles’s arm. Giles let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “It’s okay,” she was saying, anxious and soothing. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“Yes, you have, haven’t you,” said Giles, grinning softly.

Jenny bit her lip and smiled down at his arm. “Shut up.”

As it turned out, Giles was in too much pain to actually sleep. He very carefully neglected to mention this to Jenny, choosing instead to let her prop him up against some pillows in her bed before gently but insistently encouraging her to pillow her head in his lap. Whatever it was that she’d been working on, she’d clearly devoted incredible amounts of time and energy towards completing it, and that combined with the immense stress she had clearly been under was more than enough for him to put his foot down. She needed rest.

Jenny didn’t agree. “We need to be up and out as early as possible to get you to the hospital,” she was saying, even as her words dipped and stumbled with exhaustion. “We can’t afford to waste any time. That arm doesn’t look good, and if you’re trying to wake me up—”

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

“I’m a big girl, Rupert. I can—mm,” Jenny sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as Giles began to stroke her hair. “S’nice…”

Giles smiled softly as he watched Jenny slowly drift off to sleep, gently brushing her hair away from her face. He stayed like that all night.

It was really only a handful of hours before sunrise hit Jenny straight in the face. When she resentfully blinked herself awake, she felt the hand in her hair still, thumb stroking her cheek, and then Rupert said, “Ah, hospital?”

“You asshole,” said Jenny testily, pulling herself up into a sitting position. “I told you, don’t let me sleep!”

Rupert smiled indulgently at her. “Jenny, when you ask me to do something that will very clearly negatively impact your well-being—”

“—you fucking do it, because your bone is sticking out of your arm.”

“You know what it’s like to love someone,” said Rupert, his voice dipping soft and low. He leaned down, pressing an impossibly tender kiss to Jenny’s temple. “Can you honestly tell me that you wouldn’t have done the same, were our positions reversed?”

“That…” Breathless with the warmth of reciprocated love, Jenny had to struggle to find her footing. “Doesn’t apply here, Rupert, because sleep deprivation and bone sticking out of arm are two very different things.”

“Actually,” said Rupert helpfully, “it’s called a compound fracture. And after we visit the hospital for preliminary medical care, I will be making a call to the Council to request some sort of elixir to decrease the exorbitantly high risk of infection—”

“You are so honestly terrible at making me feel better,” said Jenny exhaustedly, trying in vain to smooth down her hair. “Okay. So you are going straight to the hospital. I am going to call the school when we get there, let them know we’ll both be calling in sick. I don’t—” Her plans screeched to a halt. She had just realized exactly what she’d forgotten in the chaos of the preceding night. “I don’t know how safe my research is,” she said, unable to keep the miserable tremor from her voice, “but that’s just going to have to wait until you’re settled. How are you feeling?”

“Not awful,” said Rupert.

He looked paler than he should. Jenny bit her lip, trying her hardest not to construct panicked nightmare scenarios where he died from a stupid infection thanks to a stupid master vampire. “…All right,” she said, and leaned in, brushing a kiss against his cheek. The knot in her chest loosened when she felt him relax against her. “Hospital?”

“Hospital,” Rupert agreed, allowing Jenny to help him out of bed and down the stairs. “…Research?”

“I…” Jenny turned her face away from Rupert’s, focusing instead on guiding him carefully around the bend in the stairs. It was only when they had reached the ground floor that she found it in herself to glance uncertainly up at him again. “I don’t know if it’s possible,” she began.

“You almost died last night,” said Rupert, quiet but firm. “Whatever this is, regardless of possibility, I need to know what you’re doing. If it’s something that’s inspiring Angelus to go after you—”

“I think I can restore his soul.”

Rupert’s eyes widened. His face had now lost all color. “You’ve been doing this by yourself?” he said.

“It’s almost done,” Jenny began, hoping that this would soothe him at least slightly, “so it wouldn’t have—I mean, I’m inches away from finishing it—”

Without a word, Rupert pulled her into a rough, one-armed hug. “I could have lost you!” he said, his fingers pressing into the small of her back. Tears dripped into her hair. “You would have—he would have killed you for that, Jenny, and we would have been none the wiser, and—and—you should have, should have told us—”

“I didn’t want you to think I was doing this to win you back,” said Jenny quietly. “If I came to you with anything that wasn’t tangible, it could have been seen as a ploy. I wasn’t willing to risk that.”

Rupert went very still. “So you placed your life on the line?”

“It felt worth it at the time, I—”

“Nothing,” said Rupert. His arm was tight around her. “Nothing in this world is worth losing you.”

She knew that she was supposed to put up some kind of a fight at that, but no one had ever said anything like that to her before. Enyos had said, over and over, that nothing in this world is worth jeopardizing the mission—that was more the kind of thing that she was used to hearing. Nothing but the mission. Nothing but the goal. Nothing but what she could give to the world to atone for what she wanted from it.

Nothing but you, Rupert was saying, and had always said, since the very first time that they kissed. Nothing is more important to me than you. And of course it wasn’t that simple—neither of their lives were that simple—but he wanted to place Jenny above all else. He was the first person who’d ever wanted something like that.

“I’ll be careful,” said Jenny very softly. She didn’t know if she’d ever said that to someone without any flippancy to it.

Rupert kissed the top of her head.