A watcher's job was only rarely pleasant, and at its essence, it was knowledge: bearing it, imparting it, storing it. It was usually more arcane or academic than personal, but then, the job itself had been more personal than academic for Giles since meeting Buffy. As much as he'd have liked to, Giles didn't shy from the truth.
He glanced across the counter at Jenny, a look that nearly betrayed what he was about to say in his guilt or pain or longing.
"An-That is, Angelus discovered what your intent was. I believe they interrogated and killed the owner of the magic shop. He then, ah, cornered you one night at the school and well." Giles didn't really want to finish that sentence, but with vampires there was worse than simple death and to leave it to the imagination might be far worse.
Giles' eyebrows rose as he attempted to ameliorate the revelation. "He snapped your neck--didn't turn you--they said it was quick."