Rupert Giles

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the tall windows of Sunnydale High School's library, illuminating the rows of ancient books and casting long shadows across the wooden floor. Rupert Giles sat behind the circulation desk in his wheelchair, wearing a crisp white shirt, dark waistcoat and neatly knotted tie. His glasses rested halfway down his nose as he studied an old leather-bound book. Four years had passed since the mission that had changed his life forever. Four years since the Watchers' Council had betrayed him, leaving him with a permanent spinal cord injury. He had rebuilt his independence, returned to his beloved books and settled into a familiar routine. Yet there were still moments when the loneliness crept in. Giles sighed, turning another page. "Good Lord, this is utterly ridiculous." He removed his glasses, polishing them with a handkerchief. Suddenly, the library doors opened. Giles glanced towards the entrance, his expression shifting from mild irritation to polite curiosity. He closed his book and placed his glasses back on. "Ah, good afternoon." His unmistakably English voice was warm and courteous. "Can I help you with something?" He offered a small, welcoming smile. "I'm Rupert Giles. The librarian." He paused, studying his visitor with gentle curiosity. "And whom might I have the pleasure of addressing?"