Buffy blinked back tears of hurt as she drove to the shop. She knew Willow hadn't meant to be rude about the dress and, deep down, she knew that the redhead was right. The flamboyant wedding gown was nothing like she had wanted. But, Gloria Davidson was determined to make the wedding between Buffy and her son Benjamin the largest, splashiest society gala on the entire West Coast.

She would have what she wanted, no matter the cost, monetary or otherwise.

In the beginning, Buffy had been thrilled, excited that Ben's mother seemed to like her and wanted to pay for the wedding. But, as the months wore on and the tension mounted between the bride-to-be and her future mother-in-law, Buffy found herself struggling with almost-daily headaches and she couldn't be in the same room with Ben without an argument breaking out.

Her most recent trip to LA had gone so badly that Buffy had cried herself to sleep every single night. Ben, disgusted with her and unable to see the trauma his mother was causing, had finally asked her to go home. Shaken and hurt, Buffy had packed her suitcase and fled for the comfort of Sunnydale.

Stopping the car at a red light, Buffy couldn't resist a tiny laugh. Funny, being able to think of Sunnydale as not only home, but comfortable as well. Yet, ever since Willow and Giles had managed to neutralize the Hellmouth after the Ascension and Buffy had officially been offered an unheard-of retirement by the Council, Sunnydale had truly become her home. Of course, the closure of the Hellmouth hadn't stopped Sunnydale from being a Mecca for the undead and it hadn't stopped the need for a Slayer, but Buffy could relax, for the first time in years.

Turning on Main Street, Buffy parked her red Honda Prelude a few doors down from Angelica's. It was just a little after eleven; Jennifer would be working and the quiet girl wouldn't want to chat her ear off for an hour like Whitney was prone to do.

There were a couple of customers in the shop, tourists probably, and a tall, lanky girl behind the counter. "Morning, Jennifer."

"Hi, Ms. Summers, did you have a nice time in LA?" Jennifer asked as she carefully placed fresh sticks of incense in the display on the counter.

Buffy faked a bright smile. "It was great, thank you. We got a lot accomplished on the wedding."

"That's good. I'll bet it's going to be gorgeous," the girl said wistfully, her brown eyes going dreamy.

Buffy nodded. "It'll be something. Business good?"

"Yeah, it was fine. You know, the Fourth Street Arts and Crafts Bazaar was this weekend and we got a big turnout from that. Whitney did kind of a quick and dirty inventory; she could tell you more about it."

"I didn't see her at Willow's. I'll check later."

Jennifer smiled as one of the customers walked up. As she took care of the sale, Buffy walked back to her tiny office, sinking down in the comfortable chair.

"Hey, Ms. Summers? I think Whitney was going to study at the library all day. At least, that's what she said," Jennifer said, poking her head around the corner of the office.

"Thanks, Jen."

Buffy sighed and closed her eyes tiredly. When she opened them, her gaze fell on the stack of mail laying on the desk, including the Sunnydale Press. Picking up the newspaper, she scanned the front page. Nothing too earth shattering; City Council meeting on rural zoning, the unseasonably hot weather, three unexplained murders, planned renovation of the Bronze. . .

Laying the paper back down, Buffy picked up her purse and keys and walked back into the shop. "Jen, I'm going to the library. If my mom should happen to call, could you tell her where I am?"

"Sure thing. Hey! That book that Mr. Giles wanted is on backorder; could you tell him? I haven't had a chance to call."

"Which one was it again?"

Jennifer looked down at the order form that she had pulled out of a binder. "Um, let's see. . . Beckett's Guide to the Seventh Dimension. He has really odd tastes in reading material, doesn't he?"

Buffy couldn't resist a fond smile. "Yeah, he does. He really does. I'll tell him."

"You're lazy."

"And you aren't my Watcher!" Whitney spat, her naturally quick temper snapping. She glared at the older man, finally looking away when she saw that he wasn't going to budge an inch.

"I'll have you know, young lady, that I am too your Watcher. Willow Harris is an apprentice. A very good one, but still an apprentice. Now, before I lose my famous unflappable calm, you will continue with your kickboxing."

Whitney wiped her damp face with a towel, then threw it at him. "Bite me."

"Thank you, no. Fifteen more minutes and maybe I'll consider letting you go to the football game."

Letting her pent-up anger explode, Whitney began her workout again, her feet and hands a blur of precision motion. Taking a seat at the research table, Rupert Giles picked up his teacup and smiled.

"You were never this mean to me."

Startled, Giles set the cup down before he could spill the steaming contents. "Buffy! You're back! Sit down, my dear, sit down. May I get you a cup of tea?"

Buffy took a seat across from the man who had been her Watcher since she was sixteen and her stepfather for the past four years. "It's over 95 degrees out there and you're drinking tea? Giles, that's so very British of you. Have we taught you nothing?"

He smirked at her sarcasm. "Laugh at will, young lady. When you get to be my age, you'll be thankful for a spot of tea to warm your tired, aching bones."

Whitney paused in her vicious pummeling of her workout dummy. "Your age! That's a crock! What are you? Like forty-five? Hey, Buffy!"

"Whitney. You have some good moves there."

"Thanks." She flopped down in a nearby chair, glaring at Giles when he gave her a disapproving look. "Maybe you'll go out on patrol with me tomorrow night? We can do the Half-Dozen Cemetery Tour, then move on to the Docks o' Doom."

Giles broke in. "What's this tomorrow night? I think you'll have plenty to occupy your thoughts and fists tonight."

"Gi-iles! Come on, Sunnydale's playing Santa Carla tonight! It's a HUGE game and everyone's going to be there! Buffy, tell him, will you?" Whitney cried, giving Buffy a pleading look.

Buffy smiled as memories of her own battles for independence filled her head. "Come on, Giles, it's Santa Carla, have some pity."

With a shake of his graying head, Giles snorted. "Go, then! If all of Sunnydale should fall into the pits of Hell while you're off making puppy eyes at Derrick Holmes, it'll be on your head."

With a squeal, Whitney jumped up and threw her arms around her Watcher. "I've gotta go then!"

Giles looked up at the clock over the check-out desk. "Now? It's only noon!"

Whitney gathered up her things and sprinted for the door. "I know! I'm going to have just enough time to get ready!"

Slayer and Watcher smiled as the young girl disappeared through the swinging doors. "When does the game start?" Buffy asked.

"Not until 7:30 this evening. She's lazy."

"She's sixteen, Giles."

His gaze softened as he smiled at his Slayer, the woman he would always think of as his true Slayer. "Yes. You were sixteen once and, as I seem to recall, we had more than one of these kinds of battles."

"She's trying so hard to make her lives fit together. At least Whitney had the benefit of being trained from a child, like Kendra."

"I don't necessarily believe that's always a good thing, you know. She's made a lot of bad habits that are proving a devil to break," Giles said as he picked up his now empty teacup and took it into his office. Buffy followed him, flopping down into a chair while he busied himself making a fresh cup.

"Giles? I need to tell you something."

Sitting down at his desk, Giles looked at the beautiful young woman. As always, his heart ached to see the constant pain that simmered just below the surface. Buffy had never recovered from Angel's departure and he had so hoped that her meeting Ben and falling in love would erase some measure of that hurt.

But, looking into her jade-green eyes, seeing the crystal tears that glimmered on her lashes, he knew that nothing would ever mend her broken heart.

"What is it, Buffy?" he asked gently, reaching out to take her tiny hand in his own.

His familiar, fatherly touch broke down the barriers that she had erected to cope with the nightmarish wedding plans. "I can't do it!" she sobbed, tumbling forward from her seat to fall into his arms.

Giles soothed her with whispered words and gentle pats. "Can't do what?"

"I can't go through with this wedding! She's driving me insane! Nothing, Giles, nothing is good enough! She wants me to dye my hair! And. . . and serve goose-liver patè!"

"What's wrong with your hair? It's beautiful."

Buffy sniffled and wiped her flushed face. "She says it's too blonde, which, for Gloria, translates to too trashy. She's scared to death that I'm going to prove her right. That I'm not good enough for her precious son!"

Handing Buffy his clean handkerchief, Giles smiled gently. "Is that all?"

"No! She wants an orchestra. She wants imported Belgian white chocolate frosting on the cake. She wants me to get baptized again because she doesn't believe me when I tell her I really was raised Catholic!"

"Buffy, future mother-in-laws are never. . . "

"She picked out my wedding dress, Giles." Holding out her slender left hand, she smiled grimly. "She had the setting on my ring redesigned. Ben and I picked out my ring together and it doesn't even look the same."

Giles looked down at the ring. Buffy had picked out a medium sized diamond in a modest platinum setting. Now, the diamond was surrounded by more than a dozen additional diamonds in an ornate, filigreed setting. It was, to say the least, noticeable.

He sighed. "You and Ben need to sit down and talk this out, Buffy. For two people in love, these kind of problems can. . . "

"I don't."

"Pardon?"

Buffy's eyes filled with tears again. "I don't love him. I never did."

Sitting back in his chair, Giles stared at her in shock. "Buffy, you and Ben have been engaged for nearly a year. You've been together for over two years! You're just angry. . . "

"No! Giles, I never loved him, ever! I started dating him because I was lonely and Willow kept telling me that I needed to start living again." Rising to her feet, she paced the small office like a tiger in a cage. "But, it isn't love. I'll only ever love one man."

Sadness filled the librarian. "Buffy, what you had with Angel. . . "

"Was for eternity. Forever. I'd rather be alone than spend the rest of my life with a man who makes my skin crawl every time he touches me."

"Forever is a very long time."

She smiled, her eyes slightly manic. "It didn't seem so long when I was seventeen and I thought my life expectancy was only another five years or so. But, if I marry Ben, forever will be a very, very long time."

Giles stood and crossed the room to her, gathering her in his arms. "Then, you must tell him immediately, before it's too late."

"I'm scared."

A laugh rumbled through his chest. "Buffy Anne Summers, you've faced some of the most terrifying creatures Hell could spit at you and you're scared of telling Ben you don't want to marry him?"

She relaxed in his embrace and looked up, a glimmer of amusement sparkling in the emerald depths. "Not Ben, his mother."