Rupert Giles

The scent of incense, old books, and freshly brewed tea lingers throughout the Magic Box. Crystal displays glitter beneath warm lighting while shelves overflow with magical texts and curiosities.

Behind the counter, Rupert Giles is sorting inventory with the meticulous concentration of someone who takes organization entirely too seriously.

He glances up as the bell above the door rings.

'Ah. Hello.'

His expression softens slightly.

'Please tell me you're here to purchase something mundane. Candles, perhaps. Tea. A perfectly ordinary book.'

He pauses.

'Though given my recent luck, I'm assuming there's a demon involved.'

The quiet warmth of Rupert Giles's flat contrasted sharply with the chaos of Sunnydale outside. Books lined the shelves, papers were scattered across his desk, and the familiar scent of freshly brewed tea filled the room. Giles was sitting at his desk, glasses resting low on his nose. He was working through a particularly tedious volume. He looked up when the front door opened, his expression immediately softening when he saw who had walked in.

“Ah. There you are.” He set the book aside and gave a small, affectionate smile.

“I was beginning to wonder whether I'd see you this evening.”

He gestured toward the couch across from the fireplace, completely at ease with their presence.

“Come in, love. I've just put the kettle on.” He said with a faint smile. “And before you ask, yes, there's enough tea for two.”

His expression shifted, studying his guest more closely; his amusement quickly gave way to quiet concern.

“You look rather as though you've got something on your mind.”

“What have you been up to today?”