There’s a look of confusion, shock, and awe etched on twelve-year-old Giles’s face as he peers up at Willow. He repeats her words back, not because he hasn’t heard them, but because he can’t believe them.

“You can make me an adult again?”

Willow calms him before he hyperventilates. It’s only for a day. She has to reverse it within forty-eight hours or it may have the unfortunate effect of killing him. And it only works once — he’ll develop an immunity. In short, it’s a temporary solution. She wants him to take his time, think about it, and let her know when he’s ready.

But the boy isn’t listening. He’s fumbling, tongue sticking out, full concentration on the words he’s typing on his phone. It’s to Olivia, asking if she’s free. She is.

Almost breathlessly, he turns to Willow, surprising her with his excitement.

“Now, please!” He shrinks back slightly. “Now, would be lovely.”

As Willow goes through the specifics with a bouncing Giles, Dawn comes down the stairs. Hank, their father, is on the phone. Buffy’s not bothered. He wants lunch; she agrees. She makes a crack about her inheritance having been spent. Xander asks when Hank arrived from Spain, but Buffy shrugs. “My mom dying couldn’t get him back here, but the chance to get in on a start-up? Suddenly he rediscovers travel.”

Xander frowns at her attitude, knowing what it’s like having bad parents. He suggests maybe Hank wants to talk to her this time. Maybe this is him trying. She sneers: the man has never done anything for her, so she keeps her guard up. It’s too late to start trusting now. Besides, Willow may need help. Willow smiles, hands Buffy a list of ingredients for the spell, and asks them to meet in two hours at Giles’s apartment. Giles is more than happy with the arrangement.

Two hours later, bright green flames spark around Rupert Giles. Xander and Buffy stand back, slightly concerned despite Willow’s assurances. Giles, standing in a pentagram on the floor, doesn’t feel any different and begins to say so — when his clothes rip into shreds around him.

He stands there, embarrassed. He’s not his normal age, but he’s not twelve either. He’s around twenty-one — and desperately trying to hide his modesty behind what’s left of his undergarments.

Not long afterward, Giles — looking as he did when he was the Ripper — stands before Olivia. She wasn’t expecting him to be so young. Or to have bad fashion. Giles tries to ease his nerves, telling her he’s thankful he kept spare glasses — he’d be clumsier than Benny Hill otherwise. He sighs at his dated reference.

Olivia smiles and pours him some whiskey, his favourite brand. She checks his age.

“I believe I had a birthday in the taxi, yes.” As she prepares the drinks, he asks her about work, but she tells him he didn’t come here to talk about work. She moves him toward the bed, his words stammering. “I didn’t want to seem too eager…”

She kisses him. “Tonight, there’s no such thing.” The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hangs on the door for quite some time.

The following morning, they bask in each other’s company. She has to go into work but tells him he’s welcome to stay. He tells her to go. She smiles, wonders how long his list is since he only has one more day as legal. He tweaks his glasses as she goes.

“Hadn’t really thought much past this, actually.”

Rupert Giles grins to himself. He takes a car on a test drive at unsafe velocity. The guy nearly dies of fright.

He contacts his aunts, Sophie and Lavinia. Lavinia is livid. How dare he use a rapid-aging product. It’s almost blasphemy. “How vulgar,” she spits over the video call. Sophie shrugs, worried about residual effects like wrinkles or stretch marks. She’s panicking about his cavernous pores.

He takes great pleasure in ending the chat.

He greets the Scoobies in their apartment, dressed almost like he used to, smiling. Willow is getting ready for her final interview with Theo Daniels, so she’s off. Giles tactfully suggests her attire might not be right for the job. Willow’s surprised, kisses him on the cheek. It’s not a business-like job. Modern office. No pressure. Think think tank with creative aides. She appreciates the thought, but she’s cool.

As she leaves, he sighs. He turns to the others, asking if they’re tracking demon lords instead, but Buffy tells him they’ve gone into hiding. Best to wait for them to come to them. When he suggests research, Xander says he’s done it on the demon app on his iPhone.

Buffy yells for Dawn to hurry. She wants to get this lunch over with. Giles opens his mouth, readying advice, but Buffy asks him not to. “Look, we love you. But we don’t need a Watcher anymore. We know how to fight demons and stake vampires. If we need anything right now it’s help with real life. Someone to tell us how to be normal healthy adults. And I’m not trying to be a jerk, but I don’t think that’s you.”

Her tone is slightly too harsh. Giles doesn’t respond for a moment, then gets up and heads for the door. “Yes, well, point well made.” He goes through the door. Buffy instantly regrets her words. The response is a loud slam.

She doesn’t look at Xander and Dawn. She knows. “Don’t say it.”

Twenty minutes later, Hank Summers smiles broadly at Buffy and Dawn as they sit down in a booth at a restaurant. He can’t believe how grown-up and mature they both are.

“Well, months do pass. Years, sometimes.” Buffy’s tone drips with barely-veiled sarcasm. Dawn nudges her slightly.

“I deserve that,” Hank says. “The good news is, now that I’m in the area, we can see each other more often.” Buffy asks how Francesca took the news. Dawn tells her the new one’s name is Paige.

Hank waits a moment, looks away. He and Paige are getting married. Dawn is surprised. Buffy grimaces. Dawn loudly declares her congratulations. Buffy asks about bad bridesmaids’ dresses.

But Hank stops again. He has more. Paige has two children of her own, a boy and a girl, still in middle school. She doesn’t want to come between Hank and the girls — in fact, she’s encouraged him to reach out more — but she’s uncomfortable.

With Buffy specifically. “She’s seen you on TV. Knows who you are, what you do. The kind of things that… happen to you and the people around you.”

He changes tone, tells Dawn he’d love for her to be in the wedding. But when he turns to Buffy, he says they’ve had to make a decision, purely for safety reasons: they’d like it if Buffy could be busy the day of the wedding. Elsewhere. He’s thinking of the kids.

He reemphasises that he’ll see the girls more often, but doesn’t get time to say anything else. Dawn gets up, enraged, slamming her hands onto the table. “Oh my God! How about never? What kind of a horrible person says something like that? Does something like that? This ‘Paige’ is a mean, selfish, stuck-up… and you!” She points at him, anger in her eyes. “You’ve dropped the ball before — a lot — but…”

Buffy pulls her hand away. “But they’re not wrong.” She looks Dawn in the eyes. “Are they? Tara. Anya. Jenny Calendar. Giles.” She folds her arms quietly. “They’re not wrong.”

“I can’t say Buffy was wrong,” Giles says to Xander, not taking his eyes off the TV screen. The game flashes on his glasses in the dimly lit apartment.

“I neglected all other aspects of my life. Relationships, family, my music — all of it — to be a Watcher. And to what end? I’m a useless old sod without enough in my life to fill a bloody day of…” He stops himself and throws the device in his hand away. He yells at the screen. “How the hell did I do this as a child?”

Xander looks at the annoyed young man out of the corner of his eye. “It’s the reflexes. You have old man reflexes now.” Giles’s anger has made him lose the game. That and slamming the controller down.

Xander reminds him he has a second chance now to get it right. Giles asks how he’s supposed to do that. Xander shrugs. “You’re legal now. Let’s get a beer!”

Coming out of a bar, slightly tipsy, Xander teases Giles about being older again. Giles stops. He can smell sulphur. He yells at Xander — the demons are making their move — and urges him to run. A portal opens directly in front of them. A hellhound creature emerges, growling at the pair, sensing their fear.

Returning to college, Buffy prepares to leave Dawn. She’s still angry at her father, and she has no intention of going to any wedding. Buffy tells her it’s okay. He is her family. The only other family she has.

Dawn stops. She sits Buffy down and tells her that she is the only family she’s got. “Where was he when mom died? When I needed help with school? When I got turned into a giant? After we lost mom… you were my parents, Buffy.”

Buffy smiles, wiping the slight tears from her eyes. “I am really glad you didn’t say that at the time, because it would’ve scared the pants off me. But I am what I am. You can have a normal life.”

Dawn hugs her. She likes her life. “And I’m perfectly capable of deciding exactly what mix of normal and not normal I want in it. Okay?” She offers to skip class, but Buffy says she’ll be fine — even though she’s not.

In the streets of San Francisco, Xander and Giles realise that Giles’s magic is useless the older he gets. His powers were meant to be nurtured throughout childhood. Now they’ve skipped the learning part.

Xander warns him they need something — anything — as the hellhound pounces. A metal pipe is the only thing standing between Xander and the creature’s jagged teeth, its horns aflame.

Giles scans the street, grins, and picks up a trash can. He hurls it into the nearest pawn shop window. “Some skills you never lose,” he mutters, grabbing a guitar from the storefront and smashing it hard across the hellhound’s head as Xander pierces the hound with the pole. The creature drops instantly.

As the police begin to arrive, Willow runs over. Giles warns her that the demons are on the move. It’s time to reverse the spell — they’ll need him younger to access more powerful magic. He doesn’t want to put anyone else at risk if they’re the targets.

Willow apologises that his time as an adult again got cut short, but she’ll keep working on it.

Giles looks back at the hellhound’s carcass, the police giving it a wide berth. “Yes. Thank you,” he says quietly, doubt flickering in his voice as he walks inside. “That would be marvellous.”

An hour later, Giles is on the roof, whiskey in hand, watching the sun go down. Buffy climbs up from the fire escape. He explains he came up to watch the sunset — it’s quite a spectacular view. She came to check in on him.

He takes off his glasses and cleans them. “Just a bit unmoored, I suppose. Not altogether surprising though. The idea that one simple thing could be the solution to all my problems is… well, quite childish, really.”

Buffy looks at him. “You are a child.”

“Point,” he says, placing his glasses back. That’s the problem. He has the chance to do it all over again. Success or failure — it’s all on his shoulders now. And he’s terrified.

Buffy tells him she’s sure that happens to everyone at some point.

Giles looks at her, warmth softening his smile. Dawn told him about her father’s request. He hadn’t thought his opinion of Hank could sink any lower, but Buffy still agrees with her dad. “He’s not wrong.”

Giles shushes her with a look. “His treatment of you most certainly is. He’s your father. Though he’s never much acted like it.”

Buffy’s eyes fill with tears. “It’s okay,” she says. “I had someone who did.”

Giles smiles at her. She was right earlier. She is more than capable of forging her own path. “You are an exceptional woman. You do not need Hank, me, or anyone else.”

She nods, thanks him quietly. She asks how long the adult-ish form he’s wearing has left. He thinks it’ll be another hour or two. She asks if he has plans. He says he has none whatsoever.

He opens his arms, and she steps into them.

She lets the tears flow as the sun sets.