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After a long day of muddling through Comp. Sci. lessons, Willow finds a mug on Ms. Calendar's desk—her late teacher's favorite, if memory serves. It's unwashed. Coffee residue stains the inside. Lipstick rests on the rim.
The mug taunts the girl. Willow's eyes wander to it, iron to a magnet. It takes all her power not to cry in front of the class.
When Willow brings the mug to Giles after school, he studies it as if it were a long-lost treasure. He knows this mug. He'd given it to Jenny as a gift. It isn't Jenny, but it's hers, and it's in his hands, and… It's real. His voice is awash in wonder, in sorrow.
When he sees his late girlfriend's lipstick imprinted on the side, he goes still.
He thanks Willow after a moment, choked-up, voice raw with emotion, but Willow can't identify which emotion, because she can't do this. Seeing someone else remember Ms. Calendar, really remember her…
Willow's chest aches. She hears the truth slip out of her mouth before she can stop it: "I miss her. I miss her so much."
Silence hangs heavy in the air. Has she irrevocably broken something in her bond with the librarian by admitting this fault?
To her surprise, he walks to her, kneeling down before the teen as he places a hand on her shoulder. Empowered by the sympathetic gesture, it is only then that Willow is brave enough to meet his gaze. He's shaking, too. Giles's expression, so tender and knowing…
It's enough to make her shatter. For the first time in a long while, Willow weeps.
Barely a second passes before kind, caring arms encircle her, shielding her. Her frame relaxes. As Giles pulls Willow into a hug, it feels like family; feels like home.