Rating: NC-17
Summary: Giles considers popping the question.
Story Notes: Post-"Chosen." The fourth 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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I Put a Spell on You
Gwynnega
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The first time the idea occurred to Giles, it wasn't when one might've expected. It didn't happen when he was inside her, her milky skin blushing all over, her fiery hair tousled, her eyes half-closed but looking at him as though he were - what? The greatest lover she'd ever had? The love of her life? He didn't dare believe that either could be the case, but that was how Willow looked at him.

The idea didn't hit him while he was holding her in his arms after making love, or some evening when the two of them sat in their living room, both reading, occasionally looking up to read aloud an interesting passage.

No, the first time it occurred to him was one morning when both of them were lying in bed with dreadful colds. They'd gone through half a box of Kleenex in the past two hours, and were blearily considering which of them would get up and make tea, and wondering whether they had any orange juice in the fridge, and contemplating with dazed horror the things they had to do that day. Willow had an afternoon class, with finals looming, while he was in the midst of preparations for the summer Slayer Academy (or, as they'd all taken to calling it, Slayer camp). Willow said that after her class, she would pick up some cans of chicken soup, which she insisted had medicinal properties, as well as some vitamin C. Giles answered with a groan - then he sneezed.

When he'd wiped his nose, he looked at her, and she was gazing at him with amusement. "What?" he asked a bit crossly.

"I've never noticed it before, but you sneeze in a very British way, Giles. It's kind of adorable."

"I'm glad my misery amuses you," he said, all his M's turning into B's. He grabbed a Kleenex and blew his nose for the thousandth time in the past hour.

"Oh, don't be all grumpy," she said. "I'm sick too, you know" - which assertion she punctuated with a sneeze. And in spite of his snot-addled state, Giles couldn't help but notice that hers was a rather adorable sneeze, and that in her current condition, nose red, eyes puffy, body clad in powder blue cotton pajamas with a design of coffee cups all over it, she was utterly delightful. He smiled, and then the thought hit him:

I want to marry this girl.

The surprise of the thought drove the smile off his face. But then the smile came back, just a bit, as he allowed himself to ponder the possibility, or maybe simply to entertain the notion of entertaining the notion.

"What is it?" Willow asked. "You look like you're thinking big thoughts, which I don't think can be possible right now. There's no room for thoughts - the mucus takes up all the space. At least that's what's happening in my head right now." Then her eyes lit up. "But hey, bright side: at least you don't have paralyzing mucus like when you were a Fyarl demon."

He put his hand on her cheek, which felt a bit feverish. I have never loved anyone as much as I love her, he thought. And that thought surprised him too, though not as much as the other. He just smiled at her for a moment. Then he got out of bed. "So, I'll make us some tea," he said. "And see if we have any orange juice. Some toast, perhaps? And aspirin."

***

He sat with the idea awhile. After all, he told himself, there was no rush. Besides, both of them were so busy, between the upcoming Slayer training, Willow finishing her schooling, and Willow's pet project for the summer, the Junior Witches' Seminar (to run concurrently with Slayer camp). But the notion of marrying Willow, when he allowed himself to think of it, filled him with a sense of possibility, a hope for the future that he'd considered something of a luxury before he and Willow became lovers. But for the most part, he pretended it was a pipedream - and, after all, unnecessary, since they lived together and were together in every sense. Still, thinking about it made him happy. He imagined being able to call Willow his wife, and it even pleased him that the two words alliterated. Truly he was an old sap.

One morning in early June, he dreamed he was going to ask her to marry him. He had his grandmother's engagement ring in his pocket, and he was looking for her. But then he was at the high school, and Principal Snyder stopped him in the hall. "I'm very disturbed by certain allegations," said the odious little man. "The impropriety..."

"What are you talking about?" Giles asked.

"You and a student," he said. "It isn't right. I'm going to have you expelled, which is to say, fired."

"I need to find Willow," Giles said. "I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Snyder smirked. "She's a little young, don't you think? You're already sixty, and she's sixteen."

"I am not sixty," Giles protested. Then he saw Willow at the end of the hall. He hurried towards her.

"Hi, Giles," she said sweetly. Her hair was in braids, and she wore a short green dress, white stockings, and sneakers. She threw her arms around him. She's sixteen, he thought. He had an enormous erection. She's sixteen, and I'm sixty. When did I get to be sixty?

Just then Principal Snyder shouted: "You're expelled! You're both expelled!" And he woke up.

Willow was just waking up, too. She stretched sleepily, then snuggled against him. "Morning, sexy," she said, running her hand over his erection.

"I had such a strange dream," he said. "We were in the old high school. You were sixteen."

"Really?" she asked, smiling. "Did we fool around?"

"What?" Her hand was cupping him, and it felt delicious. Still, the dream troubled him. "No, we didn't...or at least, I woke up before anything could happen."

"I bet I wanted to. I wouldn't have kicked you out of bed." She thought a moment. "Of course, if my parents found out, they'd have had you arrested, so I suppose it's just as well none of that happened."

"Thank you, Willow, for that delightful scenario."

"Not that my mom ever paid much attention to what I did, except when she was under that Hansel and Gretel spell. So maybe we could've gotten away with it, after all."

Remarkably, Willow's references to statutory rape and her mother did not make him lose his erection. "I thought you said you didn't lose your virginity until you were nearly out of high school."

"I didn't say it was by choice." She gave his cock a squeeze. "I know it's a busy day, what with the orientation and all, but do we have time for a quickie?" She kissed the side of his face, his neck.

She was so enchanting, with her sleepy morning smile and her warm, smooth arms and the swell of her breasts beneath her white tank top. The dream still snagged at the corners of his consciousness, but oh, he wanted her.

"Always," he murmured.

She took off her pajama bottoms, then pulled down his. He kicked them off, and she straddled him. He guided himself into her. She was already so wet - he sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them, she wore a mischievous look. "Oh, Mr. Giles," she cooed, "wanna make out in the stacks? I can stay late for research." She grinned. "Is that a stake in your pocket?"

"That's mildly disturbing," he said, brushing her hair out of his face, but he couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, come on," she said, moving languidly on top of him. "What would you have done if I'd had the guts to make a move, back then? If I'd gotten you out of your tweedy librarian outfit..."

His cock got harder, which was mildly disturbing as well. "Shh," he said.

She stopped moving. "Don't you like my naughty schoolgirl act? I mean, I never really got to be one for real." She pouted.

He lifted her off him and lay her down on her back. He climbed on top of her. "Dearest darling sweetheart," he said, "I like it." And he entered her.

The thing was, he thought - trying not to think, not wanting to do anything but feel her, so good beneath him, surrounding him - he couldn't remember what it was like not to love her. His feelings for her, the adoration, the lust, they bled backwards, so that even remembering her as a young girl, she was his Willow. His.

But he couldn't shake that dream, even as he drove into her, even as she wrapped herself around him and moaned. I'm not sixty, he thought, not yet. Then he stopped thinking altogether for a few minutes, which was a mercy.

***

That day was the beginning of Slayer camp: three weeks of training twenty young girls who were coming to grips with their considerable power. There were, of course, many more Slayers around the world, but quite a few wanted nothing to do with the Council - they insisted on leading normal lives, or their parents insisted for them. Perhaps some of them would come around in time - and by then, the Council would have trained Watchers who could go live near the girls and help guide them.

Very quickly, Giles became exceedingly grateful only twenty girls had signed up for the program. Twenty was more than enough. He may have thought being Buffy's Watcher or dealing with the Potentials had been difficult - but he hadn't counted on the unique challenges of these girls (who, being younger than the Potentials, were nicknamed "the baby Slayers" - not to their faces, of course). Some of the girls got homesick and cried. Some of them formed fast friendships, then cruelly ostracized other girls, which led to more crying, and sometimes fighting. What with their newfound strength, the girls hurled each other into walls and gave each other bloody noses. "Slayer Junior High," Buffy grumbled. "And I thought high school was scary."

The witches' seminar was vastly easier. These girls were older, and mostly local. They hadn't been "chosen" - instead, they themselves had chosen to dabble in witchcraft, and had come seeking guidance. Giles would have preferred to spend most of his time with Willow and the wiccans, but his time was divided between them and the Slayer girls. Regardless of how busy he was, how much time spent training and lecturing and wielding a broadsword and breaking up fights and god knows what else - it didn't take his mind off marrying Willow. In fact, that was never far from his mind. Sometimes it even distracted him from his work.

One day when Willow was lecturing the witches on the responsible use of magic, Giles, standing at the back of the room, was deep in thought on the marriage question. It occurred to him that, since it would be their one-year anniversary in little more than month, perhaps that would be a good occasion to propose, if he decided he was going to propose...

Suddenly he realized Willow was saying his name. She was calling him Mr. Giles, and the circle of girls had all turned to look at him. "Mr. Giles, where'd you go?" Willow asked. The girls giggled.

"Sorry," he said. "You were saying?"

"I was asking if you might tell the girls something about your early experiences with magicks." They had planned that he would. "You know, sort of a What Not to Do story?" She grinned at the girls. "And maybe if you're lucky, Mr. Giles will show you his tattoo."

Most of the girls had dyed hair or black clothing or tattoos or piercings or thick dark makeup or a combination of all of these. They gawked at him. Clearly they didn't think him the tattooed sort. He could practically hear Buffy's teenaged voice waft through the room: You're very, very old, and it's gross!

He walked to the front of the room. Willow leaned towards him and murmured, "You okay? You seem kind of spacey, which is really unusual for you." There was a puzzled crinkle between her eyes.

He had the sudden urge to drop to one knee and propose to her in front of the junior witches. That would give them something to gawp about - but he thought better of it. "My apologies," he murmured, and turned towards the class. "So: Eyghon - a cautionary tale." And he began.

***

The baby Slayers ran them all ragged. Vi and Kennedy had it worst of all, hauling them around in vans and staying with them at the dormitory where they ate and slept.

Giles had been less than delighted by the arrival of Kennedy some months back. Sometimes he would catch her looking at him with narrowed eyes, although Willow had phoned her in Los Angeles before she moved and asked her point-blank if she would have a problem working with them. "I can't believe you're with him," Kennedy told her, "but I'm over you." Giles wasn't so sure about that.

The other newish addition to the Council was Spike, who'd turned up alive - and human - towards the end of last year, to Buffy's overwhelming joy. Giles couldn't say he was entirely surprised - Buffy's beaux did tend to turn up again, the usual rules of the universe be damned. But Buffy was happy, and perhaps now that he and Willow were together, it was easier for Giles to understand how she felt. In any case, Spike pitched in with everyone else at the Council, and did whatever needed to be done. He even wanted to train to become a Watcher, and Giles had to admit he would likely make a good one.

One day, towards the end of Slayer camp, it was time to take the girls out in the field - that is, into some crypts at one of the local cemeteries. While they were gone, Willow planned to use the exercise room to conduct a fairly advanced spell with the wiccans. "Exercise room's a bit stinky, but I'll burn some incense," she said that afternoon when everyone had congregated at the Council offices. "Heck, the spell calls for incense, anyway."

"I'll stay and assist you with the spell," Giles said.

"You're so thoughtful," she said, smiling. They hadn't been able to spend much time together since the cavalcade of activity had begun - and most of the time they were together was spent sleeping.

"Sorry, guys," Buffy said, "I need Giles at the cemetery."

He sighed. "Is it absolutely necessary?"

"That's okay," Willow said, touching his arm. They locked eyes. God, he missed her. They hadn't had so little sex since they'd been together, but they'd just been too damn tired. "I can manage."

Kennedy strode up. "I can help you with the spell, Willow," she announced.

Willow looked startled. Giles let out a little snort.

Kennedy turned on him. "What was that?" she asked.

"It's just that you aren't qualified to assist her with magicks," he said. "You have no expertise in that area."

"Is that so? I was with her when she did the spell with the scythe. I kept her grounded."

Giles rolled his eyes. If he had a dollar for every time Kennedy said she'd kept Willow grounded, he'd have enough cash to buy her a one-way bus ticket back to Los Angeles. Not that he actually would - she was a good fighter, and vastly enthusiastic about her work as a Slayer. If there were one girl who would gladly shoulder the full burden of the Chosen One, it was Kennedy - she'd happily patrol seven nights a week, rather than share the workload with Buffy and Vi.

"Kennedy," Willow hedged, "that's nice of you to offer, but really I'm okay on my own..."

"Kennedy, I need you at the cemetery too," Buffy said.

"Fine," Kennedy said, and moved off, her dark eyes flashing disdainfully.

Willow still had her hand on Giles's arm. She rubbed it up and down. "Hey," she said, "you okay?"

He took her hand and squeezed it. I want to marry her, he thought, for about the millionth time. "I'll see you tonight," he said.

Off they went to the cemetery - Buffy and Spike, Giles and Xander and Andrew and Dawn, Kennedy and Vi, and all the baby Slayers. Among the girls were two who Buffy had dubbed "mini Buffy and Faith" - a little blonde and a little brunette, among the most talented of the bunch, who were always at odds with each other.

At the cemetery, they split up into three groups and each went to different crypts that Kennedy and Vi had ascertained had vampires living therein. Giles was in Buffy's group, which, unfortunately, also included Kennedy.

They crept inside the first crypt - or, rather, Giles, Buffy and Kennedy crept, the girls crowded in behind them, shoving and gabbing. Luckily there were only two vampires. But before the girls could even get a good look at them, much less slay them, Kennedy had whipped out a stake and one of the creatures exploded into dust. "Wow!" some of the girls said.

"Kennedy," Giles said, "it's not going to help the girls learn if we're the ones doing all the slaying."

She turned a cocky smile on him. "Just want 'em to see how it's done," she said. "Anyway, there's still another one. Which of you girls wants to give it a try?"

What had Willow ever seen in this arrogant brat? He was trying so hard to keep the expletives on the tip of his tongue from bursting forth, he barely heard the girls behind him. "No, this one's mine!" "Let me!" "No, he's mine!"

He glared at Kennedy, who smirked as if she were ready to take a swing at him. "It's my vamp!" "Mine!" Lest he give in to the temptation to strike Kennedy, Giles took a few steps back - and right into the path of mini Buffy and Faith, who he only saw when they ran smack into him, as Buffy yelled, a bit too late, "Giles, look out!" He went flying and hit his head against the crypt wall.

When he came to, mini Buffy and Faith were peering at him, along with Buffy herself and the others. The two girls who'd tackled him were red-eyed and sniffling. "There he is," Buffy said, patting each girl on the shoulder.

"Mr. Giles!" the little blonde girl cried. "Are you all right?"

"We thought we killed you!" the little brunette wailed.

"No, not to worry," Giles said, trying to give them a reassuring smile, though his head did hurt a bit.

"You've learned an important lesson, girls," Buffy said. "Don't knock out the Watcher."

"We're sorry," mini Faith said.

"It's all right," Giles said. "It was an accident. Making mistakes is how you learn."

"Can you stand up?" Buffy asked. She took his hand and hoisted him to his feet. He felt fairly steady. It was a wonder, after all the times he'd been knocked unconscious, that he didn't have scrambled eggs for brains.

"And the other vampire?" he asked.

"Three guesses," Buffy said.

Giles looked over at Kennedy, who was brushing dust from her clothes. "What can I say?" she said. "While everyone was tending to the knocked out Watcher, someone had to tend to the vamp - otherwise he might've gotten away."

"Oh, yes," Giles said, "he would've gone far in broad daylight."

"Now, now," Buffy said. "Shall we check out another crypt? Giles, are you able?"

They visited a couple of crypts, and mini Buffy and Faith killed a vampire together - the little blonde girl holding him steady and the little brunette wielding the stake. Afterwards they yelped with glee: "I killed a vamp! I killed a vamp!", which didn't help Giles's headache any. Perhaps Buffy noticed he was flagging, because when they met up with the groups from the other crypts, she asked him if he'd like to come back to her place for dinner, rather than eating pizza with the girls.

"Thank you," he said. "Willow's taking the witches out for dinner tonight."

Xander ambled up. "Mind if I join you guys? I could use a break from the kids."

Buffy conferred with Spike, who went off with the rest of the group, then she drove Giles to her apartment. Soon Giles was comfortably ensconced on Buffy's sofa. "Ah, quiet," he said. "My head feels better already."

She sat in a chair. "Listen, Giles," she said, "I wanted to talk to you. You've seemed a little...preoccupied lately? I mean, you put this whole event together almost single-handedly, and now you're acting like you can't keep your mind on it. And you and Kennedy sniping at each other - adolescent much?"

"Did you see her today, Buffy? Staking two vampires before the girls could get a chance?"

"Granted, I need to talk to her about that. But today, no offense, you were kind of a big spazz. You weren't paying attention and you got hurt. What gives?"

He had to admit, she was right - and he had the headache to prove it. "I've had a lot on my mind, Buffy."

"Giles, please tell me there are no apocalypses brewing? I'm really not ready for an apocalypse this month. Those baby Slayers are apocalyptic enough."

"No, it's a matter of a more personal nature."

"Oh god, is everything okay with you and Willow? Because you two have seemed so happy."

"No, that's just it," he said. "We are happy. I don't think I've ever been happier."

"And this is a problem because...?"

"It's just that I'm..." No, he shouldn't tell her. He shouldn't tell anyone before he asked Willow. If he asked Willow.

"Out with it, Giles."

Oh, he had to tell someone. "If you must know, I'm thinking of asking her to marry me."

At first Giles feared she would react with disgust or righteous indignation, as she had when she'd first found out about their relationship. Buffy's eyes and mouth widened. "Giles, that's wonderful!" She flung herself at the couch and hugged him with her usual bone-crushing strength.

"Buffy - careful with the wounded Watcher."

"Sorry!" She jumped back. "I'm just so happy for you." She dissolved, briefly, into tears. Then she sniffled and sat down again.

"But Buffy, I haven't decided yet. I'm still thinking about it."

"Oh, what's there to think about?"

Just then there was a knock on the door. Still sniffling a bit, Buffy went to open it, and Xander came in with a large, fragrant bag of Chinese food.

"Buffy, are you crying?" Xander asked.

"Oh, Xander," she rhapsodized, "Giles is going to ask Willow to marry him!"

"Buffy, I said I'm considering it, and do you have to advertise it?"

"I'm just one guy - hardly advertising," Xander said, putting the bag on the dining room table and beginning to pull cartons from it. "Plus, I'm Willow's oldest friend. I think I deserve to know if you're thinking about making an honest woman of her."

"Well, the operative word is thinking about it. I haven't decided yet."

Buffy went into the kitchen and came out bearing plates.

"Well, pardon my asking," Xander said, spooning food onto a plate, "but why wouldn't you want to marry her? I've seen you guys. You're happy."

Giles heaved himself up from the couch. The three filled their plates with food, then sat down at the table.

"You're like, stupidly happy," Buffy said, tucking into her chicken chow mein. "Don't you guys ever fight?"

"Certainly we do, from time to time," Giles said somewhat defensively, and took a bite of egg roll. But, in fact, they rarely did. Maybe that was a problem?

"I repeat the question," Xander said. "Why wouldn't you want to marry her?"

"I do want to marry her. In point of fact, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it for weeks."

"That's obvious," Buffy said. "You've been awfully scatterbrained. And you got yourself conked on the head."

"There's a lot to think about," he said. He couldn't believe he was debating this with Willow's closest friends. He ate a forkful of noodles.

"Like what, for instance?" Xander asked.

"Well, for example, there's the difference in our ages."

"Oh, now that's an issue?" Buffy asked.

"When it's just us living from day to day, it's one thing. But the idea of Willow tying herself to someone so much older than her...someone who'll be old and decrepit when she's still in the prime of life..."

"And that's just in the next five minutes," Xander said, and crunched into a fried shrimp. Buffy snickered.

"Very amusing," Giles said.

"But seriously," Xander said, "we all live from day to day. Some of us just get more days than others." A shadow crossed his face. Xander didn't talk about Anya much - but clearly he still missed her a great deal.

"So what else is the problem, Giles?" Buffy asked.

"Well, there's the question of having a family."

"Don't you think you should be discussing all this with Willow?" she asked.

"You're quite right. But I haven't worked up the nerve yet."

"What if she does want a family?" Buffy asked. "Wouldn't you?"

"If we had children, I'd be closer to the age their grandfather should be."

That stumped them. Everyone ate industriously for a few minutes. But then Xander piped up: "But on the plus side, think of the IQs on those kids. Those would be some pretty smart genes you two would be passing on."

Giles went into a revery, imagining a child of his and Willow's. But what he pictured was a bright-eyed child just like the girl she'd been when they'd met. God, it was all vaguely obscene and wrong, when he thought about it too closely. But no, it wasn't wrong - he loved her. It wasn't wrong to want to marry her and even have children with her, was it? Or was it terribly selfish of him?

"Look," Giles said, "you must promise me you won't say anything to her about this. I'm afraid that if she were to look at the big picture, the long haul, as it were..."

"She might want to bail?" Xander asked. "You're afraid you'll lose her." For a moment, Giles couldn't swallow the mouthful of rice he'd just chewed. "I really don't think that's gonna happen, Giles."

"Just promise me one thing," Buffy said, "that we won't have to wear hideous bridesmaids' dresses like those radioactive green ones we wore - " She stopped. "Sorry, Xand."

"That's all right, Buff, you can say it. Those dresses Anya made you wear at our ill-fated wedding." Giles looked at Xander - Xander wearing an eye patch, Xander who'd lost the woman he loved, Xander who'd lost and lost. "Look, Giles, that day's the biggest regret of my life. I screwed up, and I could never take it back. Don't let the fear get in your way. It only wastes time. Willow loves you, and that makes you a lucky guy. Just promise me you won't hurt her the way I hurt Anya."

"Xander, I would never..."

"That's good. See that you don't. Let's hope older really does mean wiser."

"Hey, Xand," Buffy said gently. "Don't you think you're being a little harsh?"

"All I'm saying is, if a weird old man shows up with a shiny orb and says he's you from the future, kick his ass and walk on down the aisle."

***

That night they lay facing each other in bed, and Giles stroked her back. "Feels nice," she crooned. "Miss you." They kissed sleepily.

"I miss you, too, darling," he said. "If I weren't on the verge of falling asleep, I swear I'd fuck you all night." He yawned.

She gingerly touched his head, careful to avoid the lump. "Poor baby, did those little Slayers knock you unconscious today?"

"At least it had been awhile since I was last knocked unconscious. I think I'm getting too old to be knocked out on a regular basis."

She kissed the side of his head. "Nonsense. You can still get knocked out with the best of 'em."

"What a sweet thing to say."

"Giles, are you sure everything's all right - besides our utter exhaustion and your bump on the noggin? I mean, today with Kennedy...you're not really jealous of her? You know there's no reason to be..." She yawned.

He was silent. He felt like he was lying to her - especially now that her friends knew what he was contemplating. But he couldn't very well propose when both of them were ready to drop off to sleep. "Everything's fine," he said. "Nothing a week of shagging you senseless wouldn't cure."

"Mmm, that sounds good. Though...already senseless. Just need the shagging part..." And they fell asleep facing each other, his arm around her.

***

Then, a few days later, the girls went home. There was much sleeping and lazing around. Giles spent a day in bed with Willow. Still, he didn't tell her what had been obsessing him. He was still dragging his feet. He kept doing the math in his head, as if he thought it might add up differently. When he was sixty, she'd be in her early thirties. He seventy, she early forties. He ninety, she sixty didn't seem quite so appalling. Unless he thought of himself as a senile old man, wheel-chair bound, Willow bound to him by a sense of duty. Unless he dropped dead of a heart attack, leaving her a widow. Unless, of course, one or both of them perished via apocalypse or vampire or who knows what while he was still hale and hearty, but that was hardly the hoped-for scenario. However he calculated the numbers, he was the selfish one, the one who got the better deal.

A few days after the baby Slayers and the junior witches left, Buffy and Willow went shopping. Giles and Spike were sitting at the table in the Council office, working out the logistics of the autumn Watchers training.

"Thank god, a conference full of adults," Giles said.

"Don't I know it," Spike said. "Only so much a fella can take of those teenyboppers."

"I had no idea so much ice cream would be required," Giles said, and Spike gave a laugh. It was odd - they got along, these days. It had occurred to Giles that it was a little strange that his lover and his best friends were all so much younger than he was. He missed having peers in his own age group. Spike, of course, was not exactly in his age group - he looked somewhere in his late thirties, and was in fact vastly older than Giles. But somehow, it helped having him around, although he would never admit that.

"So, Watcher," Spike asked, "have you proposed to your witch yet?"

Giles was astonished. "Does everyone in Cleveland besides Willow know about this?"

"Buffy may have mentioned something."

"I must have a talk with Buffy," Giles growled.

"Don't you think it's the bride to be you should be talking to?"

"You wouldn't be the first person to point that out, Spike." Giles had truly sunk to a new low - he hadn't managed to propose to Willow yet, and his ex-vampire ex-nemesis knew all about it. He was an utter coward.

Spike gave an evil grin - not that he was evil anymore, but the smile was still the same. "She's a bit young for you, isn't she, Rupert? Of course, Red always had the hots for you. Especially early on."

Giles goggled at him. "What could you possibly know about that? And please don't bring up that gig at the Espresso Pump, because I happen to remember you weren't even there."

"What are you on about? I could smell it on her."

"You did not." His mind positively reeled. "Did you, Spike? Are you having me on?"

"Maybe. Point is, what are you waiting for? You're not getting any younger."

"As you so astutely put it, she's a bit young for me."

"You're not exactly Humbert Humbert, mate. I've seen greater age disparities work out pretty well. And for some reason that escapes me, she loves you. Don't overthink this. Don't think yourself out of the best thing you ever had."

To Giles's surprise, that made sense. "Are you...what? Giving me your blessing?"

"If it'd matter to you."

Hell must indeed have frozen over, because Giles had just taken relationship advice from Spike, and it had actually made him feel better.

"Then again," Spike said, "are you sure she didn't put a love spell on you?"

Giles chuckled. "Only of the Screamin' Jay Hawkins variety."

Spike looked amused, and even impressed, by the musical allusion. Without warning, he belted out a line of the song: "I put a spell on you, because you're mine..."

Before he could think better of it, Giles sang the next line: "Stop the things you do, I ain't lyin'..."

Stunned, the two men looked at each other. Then they continued singing together, displaying the enthusiasm for American rhythm and blues that, Giles suspected, only existed in pale Englishmen of a certain age.

In the midst of the song, Buffy and Willow came in, bearing shopping bags. They looked on incredulously as the two men soldiered on towards the big finish:

"I love you, I love you, I love you, anyhow I don't care if you don't want me, I'm yours, right now I put a spell on you, because you're mine!"

Willow grinned and clapped her hands. "Giles singing!" She came up behind him and put her arms around him. "I love it when Giles is singing!"

"Hey," Spike said, "what am I, chopped liver?"

"Not to me, you're not," Buffy said, and kissed him. Then she gazed at the two men quizzically. "So, has that musical demon made an encore appearance?"

Giles and Spike gave each other conspiratorial smiles. "Course, Nina Simone did a brilliant version as well," Spike said.

"Absolutely," Giles said.

"Saw Nina Simone in concert, late sixties. Talk about being the palest person there."

"What are you talking about?" Buffy asked.

"Buffy, I think they're bonding over obscure musical favorites," Willow said. "Isn't that right?"

"Something like that," Giles said. He reached into his pocket and felt the little box he'd been carrying for weeks. Suddenly he knew it was time. He was ready. "Spike," he said, "thank you. You've actually been very helpful."

"There's a shocker, eh?" Spike said. Then he turned to Buffy and took her hand. "Come along, pet - let's clear out."

"What?" Buffy asked. Spike glanced at Giles and Willow, then gave her a meaningful look. She got it. "Oh! Right! Clearing out!"

Giles looked heavenwards - could she be any less subtle? Surely Willow would know something was up. But when Buffy and Spike had gone, Willow said, "Wow, I guess they wanted to be alone."

"Actually," Giles said, all at once dreadfully nervous, "it was I who wanted to be alone with you."

"Really? Well, that's nice." She sidled up to him and sat on his lap. "You know what it does to me when you sing..." She bent her head to kiss him, and his arms went round her. Ah, it would be far too easy to get caught up in the moment and not say what he absolutely needed to say. No - no more procrastination.

He broke the kiss. "Willow, darling, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"Mmm," she purred, "I want to talk to you too." And she kissed him again, more deeply this time, then kissed his neck. She was wriggling on his lap, and he was getting hard.

He took hold of her waist and gently set her on her feet. "I must tell you something. It's important."

There was a wounded look in her eyes. "But Giles..."

"Sit here, beside me," he said. He patted the chair next to his. She looked at it as if it were the electric chair. But she sat.

"God, here it comes. I knew something was wrong," she said. "You said there wasn't, but I knew it."

"Wait a minute. Willow, nothing's wrong."

"I'd hoped that this time it would be different. I felt really, really sure...I've been so happy with you. I thought you were happy too."

"I am happy."

"You seemed happy, just now, singing - although, okay, singing with Spike, that's a little odd. But I thought, Oh good, he's happy, everything's fine - because you've seemed a little strange lately, but you said everything was fine. But everything's not fine, is it? Giles, I don't want things to change. Things have been so good."

"But Willow, some changes are good, too."

"No - no change! Change means heartbreak, and one minute everything's hunky-dory, and the next minute your boyfriend's locked in a cage with a slutty werewolf, and then he's leaving town. Or - or I've messed up in some unforgivable way, and there's disgust and then much packing of clothes and crying. Please, I don't want you to leave me." Her eyes were wet.

"Willow, it's not what you think - quite the contrary. Please let me explain."

"Oh, now you want to explain, when everything's all irreparable?"

Giles began to wonder if Willow were starting to PMS, but he knew better than to ask. "Darling, please don't cry." Her face was beginning to crumple. Clearly he had bungled this proposal quite spectacularly. It was time for extreme measures.

He got out of his chair and dropped to one knee before her. His knee hit the floor hard - he winced, but forced the grimace off his face and looked up at her. At least she'd stopped her sorrowful babbling, and she no longer looked like she was about to cry.

She was staring down at him as if he'd just gone mad. "Giles, whatcha doin' down there?"

He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the little black box. He opened it. She gaped.

"I love you," he said. "I love you. I'll never leave you, I swear. I want us to be together always, whatever that might mean for us. I know I'm a lot older than you, and we live on a Hellmouth, and the future may be uncertain - but whatever time we have, I want it to be together. I want to make you happy - and I may not have done such a bang-up job of late, but I firmly believe I can, and at any rate, I mean to try."

As he spoke, her eyes went softly luminous. He pressed on.

"You make me happier than anyone ever has, Willow, and I have no doubt that I will love you for the rest of my life. This ring belonged to my grandmother, and I hope you'll agree to wear it. Please, Willow, will you marry me?"

Her mouth opened again - and for a few moments she was speechless. Then she said, "This is why you've been acting so strangely? This is what's been going on?" He nodded. She gave his shoulder a little slap. "Giles, never scare me like that again!"

"I promise."

"Why didn't you just tell me, when you first thought of it?" Time seemed to slow down. She hadn't said yes yet.

"I wanted to make sure it was right."

"It is. It's right. Giles, I love you. I can't imagine not being with you. Of course I'll marry you."

"Of course..." Giles repeated, dazed. She held out her hand, and as if in a dream, he slipped the ring on her finger. It fit almost perfectly.

"Your grandmother's engagement ring? Your grandmother, the Watcher?" she asked, her eyes riveted to the ring.

"Yes," he said. "I'm so happy you're wearing it."

"Giles..." She leaned down and kissed him. Then she laughed. "You must be awfully uncomfortable kneeling down there." He shook his head. She was going to be his wife. He started to laugh. And yes, his legs were starting to cramp up, but he didn't care.

***

When Buffy and Spike returned awhile later, Willow was sitting on Giles's lap, and they were kissing and talking vaguely of their wedding and their honeymoon. Willow jumped up and waved her hand. "Buffy, look!"

Buffy and Spike attempted to look surprised, with little success.

"You already know?" Willow asked, and turned on Giles. "They already know?"

"I..."

"You're in trouble now, Rupert," Spike said.

"Who else knows?" she demanded.

"Well," Giles hedged, "Xander..."

"Xander knows?" Then she gave a sigh and wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, I can't keep up the indignation, not when I'm so happy."

"That's a relief." Giles stroked her hair. Buffy and Spike watched indulgently.

"You did good, Giles," Buffy said.

"You know," he said, "you're absolutely right."

***

That night Buffy threw them an impromptu engagement party, at which Andrew kept exclaiming, "It's all so romantic!" and bursting into tears.

"I'm not sure if you thought this through, Giles," Buffy said. "I mean, now you might actually have to talk to Willow's mom."

"A rather unpleasant prospect," Giles said.

"Maybe she won't even come to the wedding. She doesn't seem to take much of an interest in Willow."

"The last time I met the woman, she was busy trying to burn Willow and you at the stake," he said.

"Well, to be fair, so was my mom. And they were under a spell. Still, I can see how it wouldn't leave a very good impression."

Dawn came barging up, dragging Willow by the hand. "Excuse me, Giles," Dawn said, "we're going to talk bridesmaid's dresses."

"Nothing radioactive green," Buffy said.

"I'm being ganged up on!" Willow protested, as one sister got on either side of her and began to pull her away.

"Giles, you stay out of this," Dawn said. "These are going to be delicate negotiations."

"I have no doubt you'll reach a satisfactory agreement," Giles said, smiling.

Just then, Xander sauntered up. "So you really did it," he said, and slapped him on the back. "You know, Willow just asked me to be your best man. I told her that was up to you."

"Of course, Xander - that would be wonderful."

Xander smiled. "I'm sorry if I came on too strong the other night, with the 'Don't hurt my Willow' ranting. It's just...I want you guys to have the happy ending, you know?"

Giles put his hand on Xander's shoulder. "I know. But you needn't worry. Now that she's agreed to marry me, I'm not going to let anything stand in our way."

"That's good." He sighed. "So I'll be your best man, and I'll help out. This time, the wedding's gonna happen."

The wedding. Giles could hardly believe his good fortune. In truth, that had been the case since he and Willow got together. He watched her laughing and chatting with Buffy and Dawn. She was glowing. He had made her happy. There could be nothing wrong with that. In point of fact, it was probably the best thing he'd ever done.

---
The End
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