Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sex and telepathy mix extremely well for Giles and Willow.
Story Notes: Post-"Chosen." The sixth 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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Watch This
Gwynnega
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Willow bustled into the lecture room and sent Giles an apologetic look. At the sight of her, he lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree. He'd known she might be late for Wesley's lecture, as she'd had some business to attend to at the local coven. Giles sat in the third row of folding chairs, next to a table covered in mystical texts. On the other side of him sat one of the Watchers-in-Training, a tall, pale lad from Oxford.

At the podium, Wesley was expounding on demonology. All the chairs were filled except for one at the side of room, facing the door, and Willow sat. She was slightly flushed from hurrying, and she wore a tight pair of green trousers and a charcoal sweater.

Giles had been engrossed in Wesley's lecture, and congratulating himself for getting Wes to travel from Los Angeles to give the Watchers-in-Training the benefit of his knowledge. But now he was, as usual, distracted by his lovely wife, who rummaged in her bag and pulled out a notepad and pen. How was it that she could look so captivating when she was merely hunting for pen and paper?

He'd looked forward to the Watchers' training - a bunch of grownups instead of baby Slayers. He hadn't counted on being so distracted, yet again. He'd been distracted during the Slayer training because he'd been obsessing about proposing to Willow. Now he and Willow had recently come back from their honeymoon and, truth be told, the fact that she had actually married him, that she was his wife, still astonished him.

Willow began to take notes, and Giles managed to wrench his concentration back to the subject at hand. "One must keep in mind that some varieties of demons pose no threat to humans," Wesley said, "and in fact are peaceable creatures - sometimes more peaceable than humans." A ripple of laughter went through the room. Giles found it difficult to believe that this self-assured chap, sporting stubble and denim, was that ineffectual upstart he'd once known. "For example," said Wes, "the Kwaini demon..."

When Giles glanced over at Willow a few minutes later, she was gazing at him. She smiled. "Hello, Giles," her sweet voice said in his mind. Her telepathic expertise came in handy sometimes, when they wanted to converse but didn't want to appear rude.

"Hello, sweetheart," he thought back.

"I know Wesley's an expert and all, but I'm getting a little bored with demons-on-parade."

"I'm rather enjoying his lecture. It's amazing how he's come into his own since he arrived in Sunnydale all those years ago."

"Maybe it's that I can't stop looking at you," thought Willow. "You look so handsome sitting there. It's very distracting."

"Really?" He smiled. Then he tried to focus on the lecture. Instead he remembered when Willow had mastered telepathy, the summer Buffy was dead. Another lifetime ago, it seemed. He remembered her standing on top of a crypt, how slender and lovely and powerful she'd looked up there. Meanwhile, below her, he and Spike and Xander and Anya and Tara and the Buffybot had chased vampires. Who would have thought so much could've changed since then - Buffy alive, Tara and Anya gone, Spike sitting in one of the chairs behind him listening to the lecture (albeit with a somewhat superior air, since admittedly he did know rather a lot about demons already). And he and Willow husband and wife.

He remembered something Spike had said to him, one of those summer nights: Cuppa tea, cuppa tea, almost got shagged, cuppa tea. Only now it seemed all he did was shag. He and Willow were in a state of nearly perpetual rut, even more so than before they were married, as if saying their vows had opened some wild floodgate of lust. It was almost alarming - not that he was complaining. At any rate, considering some of the leaner years he'd had, he figured it all evened out.

He felt Willow's eyes on him, and looked over at her. Her voice appeared in his head again: "You gave me quite a seeing to last night, Mister. I'm a little sore today."

"Not too uncomfortable, I hope," he thought back, though with a lilt of pride: quite a seeing to, indeed.

"No, it's nice - like a reminder of what we did."

He was starting to feel a bit flushed.

"Just thinking about it is making me all hot and bothered, Giles. I'd like to go over there and sit on your lap and kiss you. Then I'd take your clothes off, in front of all these Watchers-in-Training." Her large green eyes twinkled at him. She wore a demure half-smile. Then she grinned as if she'd had a marvelous idea. "They could watch!"

"Very amusing."

"Wouldn't you like it if I walked over there, got down on my knees and..." Her eyes went dreamy.

Giles broke out in a sweat. "Willow, I beg you to stop. Unless you want all these people to see what you do to me."

"That's just what I want." As if at her command, his cock began to rise. He grabbed a large book from the table next to him, and placed it strategically. "No fair, Giles. I want to see. Then I want to go over there and unzip you in front of all these people, and take you in my mouth. How do you think they'd react if I did that?" He was already fully erect. Wesley's voice was just a faint buzz. "Or maybe I won't go over there. Maybe if I keep talking like this, you'll have to start playing with yourself. That would be nice to see."

"That's it," Giles replied. "The exercise room, now. I'll go first."

"Excuse me," he mumbled as he brushed past the knees of the Watchers-in-Training on his row and, still holding the book-shield, strode out the door. A minute later she joined him in the exercise room. "Willow, what am I going to do with you?" He locked the door.

"As I told you, I have a number of ideas," she said, still grinning. Then her gaze fastened on his crotch, and her eyes widened. "Giles, I had no idea I would have such an effect on you."

"Like hell you didn't." He crushed his mouth against hers, and her arms went round him. He felt large and ungainly compared to her, and he liked it. He wanted to overpower her, as she had undone him with her words. He wanted to push her against the wall and fuck her. Of course, in reality she was much more powerful than he was, and he liked that, too, liked the balance of power between them, his superior physical strength, her superior metaphysical strength.

When he pulled back to look at her, she had a perplexed crinkle between her eyes. "No, really...you just looked so sexy sitting over there, I wanted to say hi. I wanted to let you know how hot you are, and how crazy I am about you. I didn't think I'd get you into such a state." He was surprised to see that she meant it. "I guess I'm still not used to...I never take it for granted."

"Being wanted?" he asked softly.

"Being wanted like this," she said. "Being wanted by you, like this. It's the best thing."

"I feel the same way, dearest. It always seems the greatest good fortune - that you want me." He grinned. "Even if sometimes it's a trifle inconvenient."

Now her smile turned mischievous. "Oh, have I inconvenienced you, sir?"

"Most definitely." He kissed her again, and she pressed her body into his. He spun her around, pushed her against the wall, and ground his erection against her - but no, he wasn't going to fuck her yet. He needed to make her come first. He needed to show her how much he loved her, wanted her all the time. And the fact that she never took his desire for granted, that she thought she was the lucky one, was a sweet wound in him, it made him ache for her even more. "Darling girl," he murmured, as he unzipped her pants, pulled them and panties down, "my beautiful wife."

He knelt and kissed her belly, her pale thighs, her sex. He parted the hair and licked her tender flesh. She tangled her fingers in his hair and sighed. And then he heard her sigh in his mind.

He stopped his licking and kissing, and looked up at her. "Willow?"

She gazed down at him, her face rosy, her eyes heavy-lidded, and the words appeared in his mind: "Don't stop, Giles. It's just, they're right next door...I don't want them to hear."

He hadn't even noticed, but it was true that Wesley's voice was clearly audible, going on about Ethros demons. "You know," Giles said, "it really is remarkable that you can do the telepathy even while I'm...your focus is extraordinary."

She tugged at his hair. "Yes, yes, I'm a powerful witch," she thought at him. "Now please get back to it."

He chuckled. "Yes, ma'am." He began to lick her again, and she shivered. Suddenly it occurred to him that he could speak to her telepathically as well, and he wouldn't have to stop tonguing her. "How does this feel?" he thought.

"Perfect..." It was interesting that she sounded breathless in his mind, although telepathic speech didn't require breath.

She was indeed a bit swollen from their activities of the previous night. He slid a finger inside her. "Is that all right? Are you too sore?"

"No," her mind told his, "it's good...need your fingers, need your cock."

His cock strained against his trousers. He lapped at her, fucking her with one finger, then two.

"Giles, your mouth...it's magic."

He stifled a laugh. "You're enabling us to talk telepathically while I go down on you, and you think I'm magic?"

"But you are. Your tongue...oh, god..." She was moaning in his mind, her hips undulating. The phrase mind fuck popped into his head.

"So now you want to be quiet," he thought as he licked her. "You don't want anyone to hear us. Whereas in the other room, you wanted everyone to see you suck my cock."

"Yes," she thought, "I want everyone to see..."

"Well, I want everyone in the other room to hear you come. And then I'm going to invite them all in here to watch me fuck you. I can't think of anything more delicious to look at than you right now. I'm sure they'll all agree."

He looked up, and her head was thrown back against the wall, her eyes closed, mouth open. "Want them to see us..." she thought. "Want them to see you licking me..."

"I want them to watch me fuck you. Want them to see me come inside you."

Her hands on the back of his head pushed him into her, as she thrust against his mouth again and again.

"But first you're going to come so hard," he thought. "I'm going to make you come..."

She whimpered as she spasmed around his fingers, silky wetness seeping out onto his hand. Her body shook. When she stopped pulsing, he drew his fingers out and dipped his tongue in. She shuddered again.

He had to be inside her right now.

She tottered a bit, her pants and underwear down around her ankles. He held her steady and unzipped her boots, then pulled them off, along with her pants.

He stood, unzipping his trousers. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her across the room. "Whee!" she whispered, using her voice again. "Where are you taking me?"

He set her on her feet, facing the vaulting horse, and bent her over it. He entered her from behind with a long, slow thrust. "God, so hot inside," he breathed.

"You're so big," she sighed. "You feel so good, Giles..."

He rocked into her, going deep. "I want them to see us," he grunted.

"Yes, let them watch..."

"They're watching, they're all watching us," he said. Even though it was a silly joke about the Watchers-in-Training, still it made him harder, and it made him fuck her harder too.

"We're turning them on," Willow said. "They have to touch themselves. They can't help it..."

"They're fucking each other, all of them," he whispered fervently. "They're falling onto the floor all around us and pushing into each other."

"Yes, Giles, yes...but I don't even notice them. They're fucking, they're coming all around us, but all I care about is you inside me..."

"I don't notice them either...it's only us, only you..." He fucked her frantically, his voice rising: "Oh god, Willow..."

Only as his ecstasy subsided did he realize that he'd said that last bit rather loudly, and that Wesley had gone silent. Then Wes's voice started up again: "Mok'Tagar demons, on the other hand..."

Willow giggled. "Oh, we're in trouble now!"

Giles gave a laugh, and eased out of her. "Well, they can't fire me. I'm in charge here." He helped Willow up, and put his arms around her. He leaned against the vaulting horse, breathing heavily.

"Yes, you certainly are in charge," Willow said, still giggling.

"Besides, we're newlyweds."

She touched his cheek. "Speak for yourself, Giles. I intend to engage in this kind of behavior for many years to come." Her eyes lit up. "Pun intended." Then she made what he always thought of as her consternation face. "Giles, please tell me you have a Kleenex..."

By the time they went back into the lecture room, after a stop in the bathroom to freshen up, Wesley was talking about Polgara demons. All eyes turned to them as they entered the room. Giles noted Spike smirking at them from the back row. Quite a few of the men (and who knows, perhaps some of the women as well) wore looks that Giles could only interpret as saying: You lucky bastard. At any rate, he knew that he was. He glanced at his wife. Her face had that tell-tale glow to it, and she wore a deer-in-headlights frozen smile that made him put a protective arm around her.

Wesley fell silent. Then he said, "I haven't yet had a chance to avail myself of the exercise facilities. I hear they're quite...serviceable." Wes quirked a grin.

From the back row came the unmistakable sound of Spike's snicker.

Cuppa tea, cuppa tea, Giles thought, and smiled.

"Quite," Giles said. "Please, proceed."

As Giles and Willow walked to the back of the room, Wesley continued: "The Polgara has bone skewers which protrude from its wrists in battle..."

Standing together at the back of the room, Giles took Willow's hand, and she gave him a rueful smile. He squeezed her hand. Married life, it must be said, agreed with him.

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The End
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