Rating: NC-17
Summary: While Willow and Giles are putting together the new Council of Watchers, their relationship takes a surprising turn.
Story Notes: Post-"Chosen." The first story in the "This Will Be Our Year" Willow/Giles series.
Disclaimer: It's Joss's world - I'm just in love with it.

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The Mutual Admiration Society
Gwynnega
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It was like old times, at first, working so closely with Giles. It was also a welcome respite from recent relationship dramas. Occasionally Willow remembered the old high school library, and the visceral thrill she'd gotten from those musty old books of his. Their new base of operations was, predictably enough, in Cleveland, since, as Giles always liked to remind everyone, it had a Hellmouth. It didn't seem at all rumbly at the moment, though - maybe the inhabitants of hell were laying low, so to speak, after the recent spectacular destruction of that other Hellmouth.

Things were quiet - a good time to regroup. Most of the formerly potential Slayers had gone back to their homes, to finish out high school or college. The rest of the gang had scattered for the summer. Xander and Andrew were chasing down newly activated Slayers, while Buffy and Dawn took a well-deserved break. Buffy and Dawn's deadbeat dad had actually come through for once, and the three of them were traveling together in Europe. Also in Europe were Faith and Wood (in Spain when last they'd heard), ostensibly tracking Slayers - and, of course, avoiding the cops. But Willow was sure Faith was mostly dancing, drinking, and partaking of much sex, presumably with Wood (he and Faith had seemed really tight when they left - but who knew, where Faith and sex were concerned?).

As for Willow, there was no partaking of any kind these days. She'd broken up with Kennedy soon after the big battle. Kennedy had been so excited about her new Slayer powers, and Willow had been glad for her, proud of her. Yet with the pressure of the impending apocalypse now off, Willow had discovered she just didn't feel that strongly about Kennedy. There was nothing to do but end it. Kennedy tried everything from sulking to seducing to weeping to ranting and raving, but finally she realized she wasn't going to get her way this time, and she took off for L.A. (Willow hoped she wouldn't spend too much time bending Angel's ear about her.)

So she'd decided to go with Giles to Cleveland, to help him set up the new Council and locate slayers. Plus, she could finish college there once autumn rolled around. Her parents had moved to San Diego after they'd fled Sunnydale, and they'd be paying her tuition. They even set her up in a small apartment in Cleveland, though she told them she'd get a job soon. What she meant was, she'd have a Council salary when they had enough funding. Giles was approaching various mystically-minded folks he thought might want to invest in the new Council, which was to be much more modern and egalitarian than the old one had been.

One weekend she and Giles flew to Phoenix, where her locator spell had spotted one of the new Slayers. Besides, one of Giles' prospective investors was in Scottsdale. They went to see the investor first - a blonde wannabe witch who'd written some books purporting to tell her real-life adventures with a Native American wisewoman. Willow could barely resist rolling her eyes every five minutes, but the woman did end up writing them a hefty check.

Aftewards they ate takeout pizza at the little table in Giles' air-conditioned motel room and cracked jokes about their new benefactor. "We're truly evil," Willow said. "How can we take her money and secretly heap her with derision?"

"Well, at least this way she's doing some actual good on the spiritual realm. We're taking some of the money that charlatan's made from those wretched books of hers and doing something useful with it."

"In that case, my conscience is clear," she said, and raised her bottle of water in a toast. He smiled, and rakishly lifted his water bottle. Willow felt happy, at peace with herself and the world. It was good to spend time with an old friend, and to be solo for awhile where romantic relationships were concerned. It was a relief.

They spent some time after dinner brainstorming about the latest Slayer and how to approach her parents. Apparently she was something of a softball whiz. It took finesse to break it to a mom and dad that their little girl was special in a miraculous but potentially dangerous way.

Then they talked awhile about their plans for the Council. Willow got a bit carried away with enthusiasm. "This is going to be so terrific, Giles...a far cry from those fuddy-duddies who used to run your life, and Buffy's."

Giles stared at her. "What did you say?" he asked in a tone she hadn't heard in months. "Kindly show some respect for the dead." He got up from the table and walked to the other end of the room. He wouldn't look at her.

"Giles, I'm sorry," she said, stricken. "I didn't think..."

He took his glasses off and cleaned them. His hands were shaking.

"Giles," she said, "it's just that they were so awful to you. They fired you, and threatened to deport you, and they were awful to Buffy. But I didn't stop to think how you must feel, now that they're..."

"Now that they're dead." Giles sat on the edge of the bed, glasses in hand. He looked suddenly ragged, and haunted, and she thought he might start to cry.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it," she said.

Then he looked up at her, and he smiled slightly. "No, Willow, I'm sorry - I didn't mean to snap at you." He grimaced, and wiped at his eyes.

For a moment Willow panicked - she didn't know how to deal with this. Giles was the one who had taken care of her, mostly, not the other way around. She remembered how he held onto her, that day in England, it seemed so long ago, how she gasped for air on the green grass and saw the earth's teeth, how he held onto her and reminded her to breathe.

Now it was her turn, to help him if she could. She got up and tentatively walked over to the bed, and sat beside him. "It must have been so hard for you, to lose them all," she said, and put a hand on his shoulder.

He looked straight ahead. "They're dead, all of them. I should have been there. I didn't do enough. I was so self-righteous about having grown beyond them and their rules and regulations...and now they're all gone..."

"It wasn't your fault, Giles. None of it was your fault."

But he seemed stuck in some horror loop. "All gone," he repeated. "Why am I still here?"

"You feel guilty because you survived - I get that. But you did everything you could. You've devoted your life to helping people. And Giles, you've helped me. When I was in that dark place, you helped me put my life back together. I wouldn't have made it back without you."

He looked at her then, and she saw grief on his face for the first time in years. Giles mourning Miss Calendar, mourning Joyce, mourning Buffy. But he hadn't mourned the Council, not openly. Not until now. Suddenly she understood why he'd seemed different when he came back to Sunnydale, after the Council was destroyed. Older, somehow, more stolid. A bit like that Travers guy, now dead. Giles had seemed better lately, more himself, since he and Buffy patched things up. But it was a relief to understand why he'd seemed so...off, at times.

As if he'd read her mind, he said, "For awhile I felt like I'd aged twenty years in about six months."

You seemed it, Willow thought. "You were going through something terrible, Giles. And you didn't ask anyone for help."

"There was no time," he said. "We were all in such grave danger. The world was in danger. I thought it would keep. That perhaps I'd die anyway and then it wouldn't matter. But now..."

"Now you're still alive, and you have to deal with it."

Just then he noticed he was still clutching onto his glasses, and he put them on the bedside table. "For awhile I felt fairly dead. Blank."

"You were in shock. I know how that feels."

"Of course you do," he said, and his face softened.

"But I had you to help me. I don't know if I ever thanked you - for how you helped me, after all the things I did. After the things I did to you. How you never gave up on me."

He smiled. "Seeing you come into your own, as you have, is all the thanks I've ever needed. Tara would be so proud of you, Willow. I know I am."

Tears sprang to her eyes. She remembered the spell, the beautiful spell she'd done with the scythe, and the feeling of it, the mastery she'd achieved, and the ecstasy, how it flowed through her and the world. She smiled at Giles. She felt radiantly happy.

He reached out to smooth her hair, and he kissed her forehead. An avuncular gesture, she was sure that was how he meant it, but the tenderness of it did something to her, she felt it like a shock going through her. Which made no sense, because, for one thing, gay now, and for another, Giles. Okay, she'd had a crush on him once upon a time, but that was forever ago. She figured it was just the emotion of the moment running away with her.

She felt her face flush, and hoped he wouldn't notice. He gave her an open, friendly smile - but as he looked at her, the smile faded, and a look of recognition appeared in his eyes. It was like the proverbial coin dropping. She knew she should look away, but she couldn't. Instead she started to babble. "Wow, this has turned into a real mutual admiration society, hasn't it, Giles?" He leaned towards her. "Or, at any rate," she continued, "something...mutual..." Her voice trailed off, and he kissed her.

Giles was kissing her. What's more, she was kissing Giles. At first the kiss was leisurely, like a conversation - then it grew fiercer. His lips were soft, and his slight beard stubble prickled her face in a way she associated with high school and the first months of college. But she couldn't remember Oz ever kissing her with such urgency. The kiss was rapidly blotting out all memory of previous kisses. Giles was a really good kisser.

When they came up for air, he looked dazed. "Giles," she murmured, "whatcha doing?"

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "I'm not sure," he said. "Is this all right?"

"Uh huh," she managed to say. Then he pulled her close, and they were kissing again. Her arms went round him. It was all happening so fast. Maybe it wouldn't have happened so fast if they weren't already sitting on the bed, but soon they were lying on it, pressed together, kissing. Then she was on her back. He lifted her flimsy cotton skirt, reached between her legs. "You're so wet," he murmured, sounding surprised. His fingers made sparkly sensations, and she moved against his hand again and again.

But when he began to unzip his jeans, she remembered something. "Giles," she breathed, "stop - we - "

It took a moment for his overheated face to register what she'd said. Then he sat up as if he'd just woken from a dream. "No, you're quite right," he said. "We need to stop."

She sat up too, and put her arms around him. She couldn't seem to stop touching him now - his body felt so strong, so good. "No, it's just, I forgot - do you have any protection? Because I haven't exactly been big with the birth control these past few years."

"I don't," he said. "I hadn't expected any of this..." He frowned.

"That's okay," she purred. "There are other things we can do..." Like you can go back to doing what you were doing with your hand, she thought. She was beginning to wish she had simply conjured up a condom, though that wasn't the kind of thing she was supposed to use her powers for. Maybe she even could've put the condom on him with magicks. That would've been neat to see.

But Giles was shaking his head. "Good lord...what am I doing?" He disengaged himself from her arms, and zipped his fly.

She couldn't believe it. "Don't you want to?"

"It isn't that, Willow. Obviously I do..." He ruefully glanced down at his state of tumescence. "It's just that - "

"No, you're right, of course. We shouldn't do this."

"It's wrong," he agreed. "I'm old enough to be your father. I never should have allowed myself to get so carried away."

"We've known each other so long, and we work together, and...and...it would mess up everything."

"Quite right," he said.

Then they just sat there, not touching or looking at each other. Willow thought she might start to cry. She got up and smoothed her skirt. "Well, I guess I'd better go to bed now. In my room," she added hastily.

He nodded. "Goodnight," he called after her in a small voice.

***

She lay sleepless on her back in her motel bed. Okay, what just happened? Rejected by Giles. She'd been rejected by Giles. Giles had rejected her! She'd forgotten how awful that felt. She remembered how she'd loved Xander and how he'd pursued Buffy and that mummy girl and even Cordelia Chase, anyone who wasn't her. Until she got together with Oz - and then, of course, Xander wanted her. How lucky she'd been to be desired, by Oz, by Tara, even by Kennedy. What had she been thinking, breaking up with Kennedy, as if someone better would come along and want her? What if no one else ever wanted her?

Well, there was that Fred girl. Fred had liked her. Just her luck, Fred was in L.A., where Kennedy was. Maybe Kennedy would wind up dating Fred, another smart chick. Although Willow wasn't sure if Kennedy actually liked smart chicks - probably it had been her power Kennedy was attracted to.

Fred was pretty and smart. Bookish, pedantically bookish. Like Giles.

Giles. His mouth on hers, his body pressing into hers, his fingers...a moan escaped her. This was ridiculous.

She imagined what Buffy would say: Willow, that's gross! It's Giles! He's so much older than you!

Come on, Buffy, Willow answered, he's not nearly as old as some of your boyfriends. (And then she paused a moment, and thought of Spike, who, she now knew, Buffy had really loved.)

Imaginary Buffy continued: But it's Giles! That's just unnatural! Can't you have another nice, wholesome gay relationship?

Okay, the guy thing, a little weird for me, I'll grant you that, Buff - but look at our track records. Giles isn't a vampire or a werewolf. He's just a man I've always loved. And I know he loves me.

But he doesn't want me.

She turned on her side. That's good, she told herself. Good he doesn't want me. It's a relief. It would've been a terrible mistake. It would have wrecked everything, made it really uncomfortable to work together.

Even more uncomfortable than it would be to face him tomorrow. That thought made Willow let out a decidedly non-sexual groan.

Still too keyed up to sleep, Willow turned onto her back, slid her hand between her legs, and cast about for a fantasy. She never allowed herself to fantasize about Tara anymore - it was still too painful, although sometimes she dreamed of her. And she had no particular desire to fantasize about Kennedy, pierced tongue notwithstanding. Okay, how about Fred? Fred between her legs, gazing up at her with worshipful eyes. (Well, maybe worshipful was a bit of a stretch, but Fred did seem to have kind of a crush on her.) Fred was licking her. Willow sped up her hand movements and flicked a nipple with her fingers. Fred stuck a finger inside her, then two. Willow started to lose interest. Okay, Fred was licking her and kissing her, and she looked up from between her thighs...and it was Giles. Giles with his head between her legs, Giles staring resolutely at her. Giles climbed up her body and pushed himself into her, and in her motel bed, Willow came like a shot.

This was bad, very bad.

But at least now she was relaxed. She turned on her side. She slept.

***

The rest of the trip was more or less a wash. For one thing, they could barely look at each other. They gave each other strained little smiles, then looked at their shoes. The Slayer they sought was away at summer camp, and her parents were so freaked by what Giles and Willow had to tell them, they threatened to call the cops. A frustrating trip, in more ways than one. On the plane back to Cleveland, the seats seemed particularly cramped - Willow was wedged into the window seat, trying to avoid looking at Giles or touching him. They mostly read, but without the companionable silence of their flight to Phoenix. They kept bumping each other and apologizing - and each time they touched, little flares of heat went up in her, making Willow grumpier and grumpier.

***

The next day, Monday, Willow decided to take a mental health day. Not that she and Giles had regular office hours, or even an office yet, but she usually called him in the morning, or he called her, or she just stopped by his place. There was always plenty of work to do. He'd had his books and other things shipped over from England, so, unlike her sparse apartment (most of her things had been destroyed with the rest of Sunnydale), his place was pretty homey.

But today she didn't call him, and she didn't hear from him. She watched her tiny TV, and read a book on esoteric religions she'd borrowed from Giles. Late afternoon, curled up on her futon with the book, she pictured him sitting on his living room sofa, drinking a cup of tea. If she'd been there, he'd have poured her a cup.

Oh, this was silly. It was just Giles! If the book hadn't been old and rare, she would've pitched it across the room.

The phone rang, but she let the machine pick up. It was him, prattling on about some Council business he needed her help with. She didn't call him back.

She felt lonely, in a strange city. She began to realize how much she'd relied upon his friendship. And maybe now all that was ruined by a little motel-room hanky panky. She would've liked to call Buffy or Xander, but she didn't have numbers for either of them, and besides, what was she going to say: I'm in a bad mood because Giles wouldn't sleep with me last night?

By Tuesday, she was planning to call him. She'd showered, and ate some toast and honey, and she was about to pick up the phone, when there was a knock at her door. When she opened it and saw him standing in the doorway, her toast-filled stomach did a flip flop. Stop that.

"Hi," she said, and let him in. He seemed taller than he used to be. At least now he was actually looking at her - except she was still avoiding his gaze.

"Did you get my message?" he asked. "I was concerned when I didn't hear from you."

"Sorry I didn't call you back. I was busy yesterday."

"Busy?"

"Doing personal stuff. You know..." Like watching TV, and reading a book, and moping. "Personal stuff."

"I see." They stood, facing each other - or at any rate, he was facing her, she kept looking around the apartment and down at her bare feet and the blue carpeting. "Willow, we need to talk about this."

She looked at him then with a burst of rage. "What is there to talk about? Something almost happened, but it didn't. End of story."

He had this unbelievably gentle look on his face, and it made her want to scream. "Something did happen, Willow."

"It's okay, I understand. I'm not really your type."

"Not my type...?"

"You know, you like women who are more...exotic. Like your friend Olivia. Like Miss Calendar." He flinched, and she felt badly to have thrown another one of Giles's dead in his face. Still, she forged ahead. "And the only times I've looked exotic is when I've gone all black-haired and black-eyed, but then, well, veins, not too attractive."

"You think you're not my type? I'm not even supposed to be your preferred gender."

"That is completely beside the point! Anyway, you didn't hear me complaining the other night, did you?"

He considered that. "Well, no...but you do seem to be complaining now."

"That's because you got me all hot and bothered, and then you didn't want to, and it hurt my feelings."

He took a step toward her then, his face full of tenderness. "Willow, that wasn't my intention. And I did want to - I still do - I just didn't want to behave like a dirty old man."

She was gazing up at him now, no longer needing to look away. "You still do - want to? I mean, not the dirty old man part - but you still do want to be with me?"

"Very much."

"Oh," she said. "Why didn't you say so?"

"I believe I just did." They stood there a few moments, in the middle of her living room. Then she kissed him, and he kissed her too. No more awful rejecty feeling - she wanted him, and he wanted her. It always felt like a miracle when that happened.

When the kissing made her body grow heavy, dragging at her, making her want to lie down with Giles somewhere, anywhere, she pulled away. "I don't suppose you have any protection this time?" she made herself ask, a little afraid those dread words would have another dampening effect.

"Actually, I do," he said, looking sheepish. "I bought some yesterday."

"You bought some for me? I mean, for you and me?" Okay, maybe it wasn't the most romantic gift, but at that moment it pleased her far more than a bouquet of red roses.

"It's official: I have a dirty mind."

Willow touched his cheek. "You say that like it's a bad thing." She took his hand and led him into the bedroom.

He looked askance when he saw her futon. "Sorry," she said, "bed's pretty small, I know."

"Next time," he said, sitting on the edge of the futon, "we'll do this at my place. I have a nice big bed." He removed his glasses and put them on the night table.

"Next time?" She raised her eyebrows. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you, Mister?"

He smiled slightly and pulled her onto the bed. And then there was more with the kissing, and the holding each other, and then the taking off of the clothes - with a bit of shyness from both of them - and then he was between her legs, like in her fantasy but better. And then he did climb up her body, and they stared into each other's eyes with that first thrust inside her, then he closed his eyes in ecstasy and opened them again, and they moved together, watching each other's faces with rapt attention.

Her heart was racing, and yet at the same time she felt so comfortable, so...at home with him. Once he'd taken his clothes off, he was so at home in his body. He was infinitely gentle, and yet there was a rage in him, a violence - controlled, always, and useful in a fight, and useful also in bed. Passion, that's what it was. She'd never been with a lover as passionate as Giles. He was single-minded, completely focused on her, on what they became together.

He pulled out of her and lay on his back, and she mounted him. She moaned when he filled her up again. "Giles," she whispered.

He was with her, there was nothing else, nothing left over. And somehow none of this was a surprise - she had always known that he would be like this. Was it something she'd gleaned, that awful time she had put her hand on his chest and drawn the magicks from his body? Had she taken something of his essence with her? Maybe - and yet she thought she'd always known. The way he'd gripped her to keep her from being pulled into that whirlpool thingy in the high school, years ago. The way he'd slashed away at the Hellmouth demons in the library. And yes, even the way he'd fought her at the Magic Box.

Moving on top of him, she touched his chest, first with her fingertips, then with her palm, and the tenderness that suffused her made her fingers ache. I'm so sorry I ever hurt you, she thought. How did you ever forgive me? Heavy-lidded, he watched her, his hands stroking her hips. Did he remember? If he did, he trusted her utterly now, not to hurt him, not to be that black-eyed girl. It occurred to her that even back then, in despair and rage, totally bereft, and battling Giles, it was a way to try and reach him, or someone, but no, she thought, it really was him she'd longed to connect with - and he hadn't turned away from her, even then.

She moved faster on top of him, grinding against him. She felt his heart pounding against her hand. He pulled her to him, held her tight. Her heart was pounding too, and she moved and moved until she surged with pleasure against him, and she cried out. Then he took over, thrusting up into her until he shuddered again and again, and he wrenched out her name. She lay still on top of him, their pounding hearts slowing, his hand in her hair.

Then they rested, and then they started up again. They were learning each other with fingers and tongues and other parts. They were turning each other's pages greedily, to learn new secrets, new mysteries.

When they came back to the world, it was past six o'clock. "It's been a long time since I spent the whole day in bed with someone," she said, stretching luxuriously, and settled her head on his chest. She had never thought she would feel this way again. It was different from the way it was with Tara, but she was so happy nonetheless.

He stroked her hair, and when she smiled up at him, he looked awfully pleased with himself. Or maybe he was awfully pleased with her. Willow supposed it amounted to the same thing.

"Hey Giles, did you know I used to have a crush on you?"

"You did?"

"I mean, not to make you feel even more dirty old manly, but I did, back in high school. Plus, there was that time you sang."

"What, when we were under the musical spell?"

"No, that time at the Espresso Pump. I told everybody I thought you were kinda sexy."

"Really?" He seemed even more pleased with himself. "I guess I thought this started out for you as some kind of...a fluke. An experiment."

Willow gave his shoulder a little slap. "Why do my lovers always think I'm just conducting an experiment?" She was thinking of Tara again. She could see her face - Tara, who had been afraid she'd go sauntering back to boys' town. Yet Tara, in her mind's eye, didn't look hurt or judgmental. Tara had loved Giles. She would've understood. Okay, maybe that was a rationalization - but she felt it was true.

"Well, you were pretty clear about being gay, Willow. That is, before this weekend."

"Do I love women? Absolutely. And I haven't totally thought this through, but I think maybe I considered myself gay because I loved Tara so much, and that's what she was. So when I got together with Kennedy, even though I felt guilty at first, in a turning-into-Warren way...", and she gave a little shiver at the memory, "still I was honoring Tara by being with girls. Do you know what I mean?"

His eyes had grown very soft. "And now?"

"And now I'm ready to choose for myself. If living on the Hellmouth taught us anything, I guess it's that you have to be open-minded about where you find love." Giles's mouth gaped a bit, and Willow tried to backtrack. "I mean, love - or liking - or lust - or any of those other L words."

He smiled. "How about all of the above?"

Now it was her turn to gape. She was astonished, but it felt so natural that they should feel this way about each other. "It's good," she murmured. "All of the above is all to the good." And he kissed her.

After awhile he got up to take a shower, and she said she'd join him shortly. She lazed in bed with a big grin on her face, but just when she started to pull back the bedclothes, the phone rang. "Hello?" She heard how her voice sounded - sleepy, a bit goofy with delight.

"Will? Were you asleep? Did I get the time zones wrong?"

"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed. "No, not asleep...where are you?" She scrambled out of the bed as if it were on fire.

"Paris. Do you have any idea how many shoes live here? And a good thing too, considering most of my old pairs live at the bottom of Sunnydale Crater."

"Shoes!" She burst into nervous laughter. "That's great!" She stood there naked a moment, then thought better of it and perched on the edge of the bed, grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her. "How are you? How's Dawn?"

"Good, we're good. You know, I get sad a lot, because of..." Buffy stopped.

"I know, Buffy."

"But then I know he would've wanted me to be happy. And it's been great, surprisingly great, spending time with Dad and Dawn, like an actual family. Not the kind we had with Mom, but still." She did sound sad, but unburdened. She didn't have the weight of the world on her anymore.

"That's great, Buffy." For a moment, Willow forgot about the man in her shower, and just enjoyed having a heart-to-heart with her best friend - once a common occurrence between them, but not so much in recent times.

"But I wanted to let you know what I've decided. Because Dad wanted me and Dawn to move to his place in L.A. Well, actually he wanted to get a bigger place for all of us. But I just don't think L.A.'s the place for me right now. I don't want to give Angel the wrong idea, you know? Besides, I think it's important that I'm part of the new Council. I don't want any Slayer to get treated the way those old guys treated me. Especially that Travers guy - he was such a creep."

"Hey, Buff...when you talk to Giles about this, go kind of easy on the whole 'bashing of the old Council' stuff, okay? I mean, I agree they were creeps, but he's been taking it pretty hard, what with the Council getting blown up and all."

"Really? He never said anything to me about it."

"Just take my word for it."

"Okay," she said perkily, and went back to talking about her plans, and how she and Dawn would be moving to Cleveland at the end of summer, and then she started talking about shoes again.

Willow heard the shower squeak off, just as Buffy asked, "So what's new on your end, Will?"

"Uh, nothing...same old, same old..." Except for all the sex with your ex-Watcher.

"Dearest," Giles called, as he came out of the bathroom, "I thought you were going to join me. Did you fall back to sleep?"

Aghast, Willow dropped the phone and put a finger to her lips. Then she picked up the phone. "Is someone there with you?" Buffy asked. "Is that Giles?" Bu-ffy, Willow mouthed at Giles, and he froze, as if Buffy could see him standing there, towel-clad, hair dripping.

"Yes, it's Giles," she said. "We're just, you know, doing the research." She widened her eyes at him.

"Aw, Will, you're making me feel guilty - here I am going on about shoe shopping, and you and Giles are hard at work."

"No, Buff, you've more than earned some time off. Besides, you know how me and Giles enjoy...a good research session..."

Giles doubled over with laughter. "Is Giles...laughing?" Buffy asked. "I've almost never heard him laugh like that."

"Oh...just something funny...from the research. You know, something about...a demon. And a...a prophecy. The usual stuff."

"Giles always did have a pretty dry sense of humor. But there's a demon around? Something that needs killing? And you guys don't have any Slayers in Cleveland right now?"

"No, no demons to kill, nothing like that, Buffy. It's okay." Giles was still laughing. Then he smiled at her, such an amused, relaxed and yes, satisfied-from-all-the-sex smile. He sat next to her on the edge of the bed and put his arm around her. He was still dripping from the shower, getting her wet, but hey, what else was new? It did make her feel better.

"Well, good. Send Giles my love," Buffy said.

"Will do..." Willow said, and hid her face in his shoulder.

When she and Buffy had said goodbye and Willow hung up the phone, she collapsed against him. "Giles! Oh god, Giles, we did not think this through!"

"It's all right," he said. He was still smiling.

"But I'm panicking! Giles, can you imagine - telling Buffy, telling Xander, telling Dawn? Giles, what are we doing?"

"Being together. Being happy." He held her close. "I think we deserve that, don't you?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Besides, she thought, Buffy's arrival in Cleveland was at least a month away. "Want to order some Chinese food? I'm starving."

***

The rest of the summer passed in a happy haze of lovemaking, locator spells, research, fund-raising, and more lovemaking. Giles rented a small office, the new official headquarters of the Council of Watchers. Mostly the two of them kept to themselves, cherishing the quiet time before she would go back to school and their friends would begin to show up.

One afternoon they were unpacking boxes of Giles's books and shelving them in the office. "I'm kinda excited about registering for classes next week," she said. "You know how much I love school - but I'll miss spending every day with you." She pulled a musty volume from one of the boxes and opened it at random to an engraving of a several-armed hag goddess. Just like old times - but, of course, with a difference. She knew the girl she'd been back in the old library would approve. She smiled, closed the book and put it on a shelf.

He pulled a thick tome from another box. "Not planning to throw me over for some college student of indeterminate gender?" His eyes twinkled beneath his glasses.

"Not likely, Mister."

He set the book on the big round table, walked over to her and took her in his arms. They were still kissing when they heard the front door open.

It was Buffy. Her mouth hung open - way open.

"Buffy!" Willow said. At least, she thought, they had all their clothes on.

"Buffy, welcome," Giles said. They still had their arms around each other. It was hard to remember that there could be anything wrong with this. Nonetheless they let go of each other.

She just stood there, staring at them.

"You look great," Willow said. Well, she did, aside from the fact that standing there gawping at them wasn't terribly becoming. It looked like she'd finally put on a few pounds, and also like she'd been getting plenty of rest for a change. Sure, there was some sadness around the eyes - but it was kind of hard to tell, what with all the incredulity going on.

Buffy found her voice. "Am I hallucinating, or were you just...making out?"

Giles smiled warmly at her. "Yes, Buffy, there have been some changes in your absence."

"Just one change, really," Willow added helpfully. "Giles and I - we're together now. We have been for awhile."

"For awhile?" Buffy scanned the room - for other signs of an altered universe, Willow figured. Then she snapped her fingers. "It's a spell! Have the two of you been eating any strange candy?"

"No, I assure you," Giles hastened to say, "it's nothing like that."

"Oh, you mean, it's nothing like that time you slept with my mother?"

Willow looked at him. "You slept with Buffy's mom?"

"We were under a spell! You remember, we reverted to adolescence."

"It was that time with the band candy," Buffy said. "They did it on the hood of a police car. Twice."

"Giles!" Willow said, although she was somewhat titillated - not by the Joyce part, but by the Giles having sex on the hood of a police car part.

Giles raised his eyes heavenward. "Willow, can we talk about this later?" He turned to Buffy. "I can state unequivocally that this isn't a spell."

"That's what everyone thinks when they're under a spell. Like that spell of Willow's that went wrong, and suddenly Spike and I were going to get married - " Buffy stopped short. Her lower lip trembled.

"Buffy..." Willow said, and moved towards her.

Buffy held up her hand. "Don't. None of this makes any sense. Suddenly you guys are - what, in love?"

The ridicule in Buffy's voice - it hurt. Willow felt the ache of tears behind her eyes. But Giles put his arm around her. He was with her. "That's right," Giles said. "We are."

"I was looking forward to seeing both of you, to working with you. I made all these plans, and now it's like you've both gone crazy. I don't even know who you are right now." Her voice shook. "Although I should be used to this. My dad likes 'em young, too."

"That isn't fair," Giles said. "I know you're grieving for Spike, but it doesn't give you the right - "

"Do not talk to me about Spike. You don't have the right. You came down so hard on me for having him around. You tried to have him killed."

"And I was wrong, Buffy. I played into the hands of the First. At the time I thought I was looking out for your best interests, but I behaved stupidly."

"You say that now," she said more quietly, "now that he's gone."

"I've judged you harshly in the past," Giles said, "and now I'm asking you not to make the same mistake."

"But how could you hide this from me? This has been going on for awhile, you said."

Willow gave a laugh that sounded more like a sneer than she'd intended. "As if you never hid anything about your love life from us?"

Buffy's eyes widened. "That was wrong, too. I was wrong to do that."

"Look, Buffy, we didn't say anything because it was new, and besides, we were worried what you'd think," Willow said. "We were afraid you'd react...well, the way you're reacting."

At that, Buffy seemed to stand down. "And you're sure this isn't a spell. You two - love each other." She shook her head. "Well, I love you both, too, but you don't see me making with the smoochies." Okay, her tone was lightening - petulant, but not so hostile.

"We love you too, Buffy," Willow said. "Can you be happy for us? We're still just us."

Buffy looked at them for a long moment. "Giles, do you think I could talk to Willow alone for a little while?"

"Willow?" Giles asked, and she nodded.

"I'll go for a walk," he said.

When he had gone, the two of them sat at the round table, and Willow again flashed back to high school. She and Buffy were going to talk about boys. Except Giles wasn't a boy. Well, Angel hadn't really been, either. "So," Buffy said, and she had a glint in her eye that made Willow think she was having the same deja vu, "you and Giles."

Willow couldn't help but grin.

"How did it happen? No grisly details, please."

"It just happened," Willow said.

"You just happened to not be gay? You just happened to fall for my ex-Watcher, a man you've known for years, a man more than twice your age?"

"Well, sort of."

"But Giles is so..."

"Hot? Handsome? Gorgeous? Sexy?"

Buffy screwed up her face like she was eating something sour. "I was going for old...too old...way too old."

"I know you were - I just wanted to see you squirm a little more. And he is a lot older than me, no question. But when we got together, none of that stuff seemed to matter anymore."

"None of that stuff. Like the fact that he's a man, and you're a - "

"A lesbian? I guess it's safe to say I'm bisexual. Mostly, nowadays, I just feel like a...Gilesian." Buffy smiled in spite of herself. "I think Tara would understand. At least that's what I keep telling myself."

"Not Kennedy, though," Buffy said.

"Nope - Kennedy will freak."

"Big time. Ooh, can I be there when she finds out?"

"Better you than me." They exchanged conspiratorial grins, and Willow felt she had her friend back.

Buffy's face softened. "You know Tara would want you to be happy."

"I am happy. He makes me happy."

"So I'll deal." Her brow crinkled. "You're really in love with Giles?"

"It's not what I expected to happen - but it's good between us."

"Okay - so I really don't want to visualize, but...you're lucky, Will. You both are. To have someone - the right someone. You know, I think maybe I'm a little jealous."

"In a way I feel guilty," Willow said. "You and Xander, you both lost people you loved so much. And instead, I found someone."

"You've lost quite enough already," Buffy said. "We all have. Okay, I'm officially done freaking out. I'm happy for you, Will."

They hugged. Buffy still felt both insubstantial yet unbelievably strong - which reminded Willow of something. She got up and opened the file cabinet - only a few files in there so far. "Buffy, take a look at this."

She handed her a photo of a girl in a softball uniform. "That's the Slayer from Phoenix?" Buffy asked.

"Isn't she a little cutie-pie? Her parents threatened us with a restraining order when we first showed up, but they called us last week. The kid accidentally pulled their front door off its hinges, among other supernatural feats of strength, so now they want us involved."

"We have to figure out how to handle this," Buffy said. "Should we send someone out for some one-on-one counseling and training, or wait until we can do some sort of summer camp program, or what?"

As they talked about their plans for the Council, Willow felt a growing sense of contentment. They would work together. This was going to work.

When Giles returned, he said, "Look who I found." Dawn was with him.

"Dawn, how'd you get here?" Buffy asked. "I thought you were feeling jetlagged."

"I took the bus," she said. "It was easy. Yeah, I'm tired - " She yawned on cue. "But I wanted to see everybody!"

Willow stood. "Well, everybody's just me and Giles right now."

"That's plenty." Dawn scampered over and hugged her.

Willow surveyed the girl - she looked like she'd gotten even taller, if that was possible. "Dawnie, there's something we need to tell you."

"Giles already told me - you and he are going out. Cool." Dawn glared at Buffy. "He also said you were having trouble dealing with it. Like you haven't dated older men!"

Willow chuckled. "See, that's what I said!"

"You never said that," Buffy said.

"Well, I was having an imaginary conversation with you at the time..."

Buffy turned to Dawn. "It's different when they look older!"

"Shallow, much?" Dawn asked, hands on her hips.

"I'm standing right here," Giles protested.

"I like the way Giles looks," Willow said.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"Aw, he called her sweetheart," Dawn said. "That's so cute. Buffy, how can you not think it's cute?"

"It's adorable," Buffy said dryly. "Just promise me you have no plans to date your school librarian."

"This, from Miss 'I Dated Principal Wood.'"

"It was one date. And I was already out of school! It's not like I went out with Principal Snyder...oh god, what a horrible idea!" Buffy, Willow and Giles spent a moment contemplating the horror of it. Then Buffy said, "That really puts everything into perspective, doesn't it? Clearly I've been making a big fuss over nothing. For what it's worth, you have my blessing."

"It's worth a lot, Buffy," Giles said, and his smile warmed Willow from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She felt herself almost relax. There was only Xander left to tell.

***

He called a couple of weeks later, one afternoon when Willow was sitting cross-legged on her futon reading anthropology homework, her trusty yellow highlighter in hand. "Hey, Will..." was all he said before she slammed her textbook shut and burst out: "Xander, I have something to tell you. It's been going on awhile, but I'm telling you now. Giles and I are seeing each other."

"Okay," Xander said slowly. "Define 'seeing.' Is this some oblique one-eye joke?"

"No, no. I mean, I'm in love with Giles. Also, Giles is in love with me." Silence on the other end. "Xander? You there?" He started to laugh - and he kept on laughing. "Having hysterics over there, Xander?" she asked, starting to feel rather ill-tempered.

His laughter abruptly ceased. "I know - it's a spell! That's it, it's a spell."

"Nope, really not. Giles and I are a couple. We're lovers. He's my...well, boyfriend doesn't sound right, even though he is. How old do you think someone has to be before the word boyfriend starts to sound weird applied to them?"

"I knew it!" Xander burst out. "I knew this would happen!"

That was a new one. "You did?"

"Well, not in the sense of knowing it would happen, but come on, Will, the way you reacted that time he sang at the Espresso Pump? It stands to reason."

Now she started to laugh. "I really love you, Xander."

"Oh, so now it's me you love? Get your story straight."

"So are you okay with this? Because Buffy freaked, but she's okay with it now, more or less."

Xander sighed. "Willow, the woman I almost married was over a thousand years old. Who am I to judge? And in retrospect, I wish I had married her. So all I can say is - you and Giles love each other? Don't be stupid like I was. Don't let anything get in your way."

Willow heard someone talking in the background. "Who's that? Is that Andrew? And where are you, by the way?"

"Yes, it's Andrew, and we are in Grand Rapids, Michigan."

"Grand Rapids - oh, you found that Slayer I did the locator spell on?"

"A pudgy, scrappy little girl who I think used to get beat up by her dad - but she's since given him a broken arm and a few bruises besides. Andrew, would you be quiet?"

Andrew was talking excitedly, and suddenly Willow heard him quite clearly: "But that is so cool. Despite his advanced years, the British man's prowess lured the witch from her iron-clad lesbian ways!"

"Hey!" Willow yelled. "Did he just say what I thought he said?"

"Shut up, Andrew," Xander said.

But Andrew continued: "Willow and Mr. Giles sittin' in a tree..."

Willow couldn't help but laugh.

***

One Sunday afternoon they lay in Giles's nice big bed, Giles behind her, holding her. She had a lot of reading to do for class, but she couldn't tear herself away, not yet. He stroked her hair. "That was..." he said.

"You can say that again," she said. He'd had her speaking in tongues, her legs wide while he feasted on her, until a rainbow tidal wave swept through her from her center outward. Then she'd returned the favor.

Now they floated together in the bed, in the world. Not literally floating, of course, although Willow could do that, but it felt pretty much the same.

"Willow, I've been thinking." He caressed the back of her neck.

"You're always thinking, aren't you? What with all that vast, encyclopedic knowledge in your brain."

"Are you going to let me tell you what I've been thinking?" His voice was quiet and melodious.

"Please, proceed."

"I've been thinking that, now that our friends have more or less accepted our relationship, and now that you're back in school, and we're not able to spend as much time together as we did during the summer...I've been thinking that it might be a good idea for us to live together - for you to move in with me."

Giles apparently thought in lengthy sentences, but all Willow could think at first was: Wow. She turned onto her back and looked at him. Then she grinned. "Are you sure you're not asking me because I just did that thing with my mouth you like so much?"

"Yes, that's the only reason," he said. "It has nothing to do with the fact that I love you so much." He leaned over and kissed her.

The kissing was nice, and Giles professing his love was even nicer, but that didn't lessen the sudden caffeinated feeling she was having - in fact it seemed to make it even worse. "It's a big step, Giles."

"I agree."

"Although I do own almost nothing, post-Sunnydale, so bonus, almost no packing or moving time. You were smart to keep all your stuff in England, Apocalypse-safe."

"Are you changing the subject?" he asked.

"Maybe." She wasn't breathing so well.

"Is this too fast for you?"

She sat up and pulled the blankets to her. "Too fast? Not necessarily. Just - it's scary."

He sat up too. "Too scary for you?" When the words had left his mouth, he looked as if he'd just remembered something - something unpleasant - and she saw a note of fear in his eyes.

She touched his cheek. "The thing that scares me most of all is the idea of losing you," she said.

"And what makes you think you're going to lose me? I may be much older than you, but I suspect I still have at least a few good years left in me before I go doddering off to the Old Watchers Home."

"There's an Old Watchers Home?" She leaned over to kiss his mouth. "Giles, it isn't that. It's just...things are so good now. I have you, I have work I love, and our friends, and school. And if you haven't noticed, when things are going great, something awful tends to happen, like an Apocalypse for example."

"Lessons of living on a Hellmouth," Giles said.

"And you know, Tara was supposed to have a whole lot of good years ahead of her. The last time I lived with somebody I loved, she died. I don't think I could stand it if anything happened to you." A wave of panic and grief rose in her chest, and she took a shuddering breath and let it out.

"Are you afraid that if something happened, you might become..."

"All veiny and homicidal? No - strangely that hadn't even occurred to me. It just makes me scared. Before we told our friends about us, I had that to worry about - that was the catastrophe that was coming. But now it's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Moving in together - it's like we'd be tempting fate, or painting a target on our backs or something."

"We've both suffered losses. And I can't promise you there won't be more of them." Giles looked at her, so steady and wise and yet so open to her. "But everyone loses each other eventually, Willow. It's what we do in the meantime that matters."

Willow felt herself grow calm and clear. The fear lifted - it was beside the point. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a pretty smart man?"

"Maybe once or twice." He searched her face. "Was there a yes in there somewhere?"

"What I say is, to hell with the Hellmouth and all its lessons."

His brow crinkled.

"What I mean is, yes, I want to live with you, Giles."

Then there was his smile, the incandescent one that only appeared on special occasions, although there seemed to be a lot of those lately. And then he was telling her he loved her, and she was saying she loved him, and then he was kissing her until she was breathless and needed his hands all over her, needed him to take her hard and fast and forever.

Afterwards they actually got out of bed, and Giles put on a robe, and she put on one of his shirts. She sat on the sofa, and he put on a record album she remembered Oz coveting years ago. He made tea and brought cheese and fruit and cookies to the living room table, and a glass with a little whiskey in it that she tasted, then made a face that made him laugh. He was still much more of a grownup than she was, she thought, watching him sip his drink. "I like this record," she said.

"Oh, if you like this, you must hear this other one," he said, and knelt on the carpet to flip through a pile of LPs, and she changed her mind about him being more the grownup - he was positively giddy. She had made Giles giddy, and that was quite an accomplishment.

She picked up her anthropology textbook and read a bit, while they listened to the music and ate and drank, but mostly she just savored the moment, the moments, one after the other. "And it was all right," went the song on the stereo, "and it was all right." To hell with the Hellmouth and its lessons, she thought. This is the way it can be. This is the way it is.

---
The End
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