CONTENT WARNINGS: This part is rated NC-17 for sexual content of a Giles/Willow nature. If
you are under 18, or really don't like the idea of mushy love
stuff between these particular characters, return to the Labyrinth Entrance. I'll
try to give enough of a summary in the next PG portion to
keep those who skip over this one up to speed on the story.
Willow hurried across the street and halted panting in front of Giles' apartment building. Lucky that Sunnydale was so small, she thought. She could almost run across it without having to stop and get her breath. Still, she was glad she was in good shape.
The window to his apartment was lit. Not that she needed any evidence that he was there. She'd known where Giles was heading from the moment he'd bolted from Cordelia's car. His physical need to be doing anything was acute; she was feeling it herself. But he shouldn't be out hunting alone, particularly not with Drusilla stalking him. She had to convince him to take her along, so that she could watch out for him. If she'd brought Cordelia and Xander they'd have only driven him away again. So she'd ditched them and come alone.
Willow walked up the sidewalk and moved under the stairs to the door of his apartment. The thunderstorm had apparently not made it this far into town -- or the warm night air had already erased any traces of precipitation. She ran a hand nervously through her hair: it was almost dry again.
"Nerves, nerves," she admonished herself, bouncing from one foot to the next, trying to calm down. Giles wasn't going take her seriously if he thought she was anxious.
A shadow shifted behind her at the periphery of her vision; she whirled and looked around wildly. All was still.
"It's just post-casting jitters," she said to herself. "I ought to write that in my notebook, except I left my notebook in my bag in Cordelia's car."
The door to the apartment opened and Giles stepped out, bag in hand. He stopped when he saw her, but he wasn't terribly surprised to see her there. "Willow, go home."
"You're going on patrol," she said, staring hard at the bag.
"Somebody has to do it," he said savagely and turned to shut the door behind him.
"I'm coming with you." She stood in his path, determined not to move until he agreed.
"Where are Xander and Cordelia?"
"They were going to go to the school to look for you."
"You should have gone with them."
"Well, I didn't. And you should have too."
They stood glaring at each other. Willow felt steady now, as if his anger had settled her down. In a peculiar way, it was a shared anger, as if they were feeding off of each other's aggressions.
"This has nothing to do with you," Giles finally said. "I should have never let any of you -- or Jenny -- get involved. This isn't your world, Willow. Go back to your computers, the Bronze, your school-girl life -- and let me get on with my work."
"And you, what about your life?" Willow said indignantly. "We're not allowed to get involved, and you don't get to do anything else? You and Buffy, you're only ones allowed to fight the things out here? And -- and now that Buffy's run away from it, it's all up to you?"
He turned away from her. "Buffy and I were born to it. You, Xander, Oz, Cordelia -- you have your lives ahead of you. You don't have to do this."
"Well, maybe we choose to do it anyway!" she said. "You know, you should give us a little credit. I know we're not the Slayer. But at least we're here and not running away. So -- so you can either accept that and work with us, or you can pull a Buffy on us and make us work on our own."
"You don't know what the hell you're saying," he snarled, and pushed past her to move down the walk.
"You know I do." She dogged his heels. "What, you think I did that spell tonight for kicks?"
"Yes." He stopped and turned to face her. "That's precisely what I think. It's been one big game to the three of you. You take risks, you have no thought of what could happen --"
"That is so unfair." She grabbed his sleeve and hauled back. "Okay, we make mistakes sometimes. But we've survived against some pretty scary things. We're not children any more. You said it yourself tonight. Well, you'd better stop treating us first like adults and then like children just because it suits you to do it sometimes. We've proved ourselves."
Giles looked at her with a staggering intensity. "Is that so?" he said in a voice like dry ice.
Willow stood her ground, fed the intensity back by looking him straight in the eye. "Yes. We can take anything the Hellmouth can dish out."
He dropped the bag he was carrying, wound his hand through her hair and shoved her backwards until she was pinned hard against the door to his apartment. Willow grabbed at his wrists as he leaned in towards her. They glared into each others' eyes for a heartbeat, then he moved in on her.
She had never been kissed all out before, and the intensity of it made her knees buckle. She let go of his wrists and grabbed at his body in a desperate bid for equilibrium. Pressed hard against him, she felt his arousal hard against her. Willow whimpered and opened her mouth. Their tongues glided past each other, and she shifted her grip to his shoulders, wrapping one leg around his so she could hike herself up to get closer to him, to deepen the kiss until she'd totally lost track of her breath.
Abruptly, they both found themselves sitting on the pavement, Willow half in and half out of his lap. Giles looked more than a little stunned.
"Whoa," said Willow. "Where did that come from?"
"That," Giles panted. "Was a mistake."
The remark should have hurt her, but she was in tune with him enough to know exactly what he was talking about. It was kind of cool too that she could hitch herself up to his lips to resume the kiss with absolute confidence that, mistake or not, he wasn't inclined to push her away. He caught her hand in his, held it back for a moment, then let it slip past to wrap around his neck while he reached around her hips to pull her closer.
Willow immersed herself in him, allowing her tongue to wander across the planes of his face to touch on the complexities of his ears. He nipped gently at the back of her neck, and she responded in kind, then pushed herself up so she could run her hands down the back of his jacket while she kissed the top of his head.
"Willow --" He reached back to grab her hands. "I was saying something about mistakes. . ."
"So what's one more?" Willow said. She looked at her hands where he held them away. "We're sparkling."
Giles blinked and looked. Ropes of light coursed up and around their joined hands, lacing down their wrists like luminescent vines. "We're still suffering side effects from the spell cast--"
Willow pushed his hands down and went back to exploring the inside of his mouth. His hand slipped up to the back of her neck, and he wrapped his other arm hard around her. She mewed and surged up against him and felt an answering hardness between them.
They toppled sideways hard onto the pavement. Willow winced at the small rap to her still sore head, but tried to hang on to the kiss anyway.
Giles broke it off and let go of her neck to rub at her sore spot. He looked up, then scooted away from her. "I think," he said, "that we'd better stop, now." Waves of light rippled through his hair, flashed across his glasses. Willow stared at him, entranced, then moved to get her hands into that light.
"Willow -- we're more than a little conspicuous?"
"What?" She sat up, flickers of light drifting down her shoulders, and realized that they were sitting at the core of a slowly turning sphere of coruscating radiance, which was beginning to encompass a good portion of the apartment building as well. "Oh! Are we doing that?"
Giles shot her a sardonic look and struggled unsteadily to his feet. "Bloody magic --" she heard him mutter under his breath as he rummaged through his pockets for his keys. Willow felt something cold digging into her lower thigh where the skirt was rucked up, and she pulled the missing keys out from under her. She stood and reached around him to put the key in the lock and turn it.
He opened the door and turned towards her to gesture her in. "Now we'll see what we can do about getting you home --"
Willow pushed his jacket off his shoulders and grabbed his tie. Dimly she thought that maybe she shouldn't be acting like such a slut, but her natural modesty had apparently gone on a post-spell casting vacation. If she could only get Giles' inhibitions to do the same --
As if on order Giles shut the door, wrapped an arm around her waist, and walked her backwards towards the couch. He dumped her onto her back on the cushions and moved over her, his good hand moving delicately down her side to the hem of her skirt. Willow reached up to pull the glasses off his face so she could get closer to his eyes, and they were kissing again as if they would never get enough. She felt his hand moving tentatively up under her skirt, and she let loose of his tie to urge his hand up, until it was under the waistband of her cotton panties. She left it there to its own devices, and reached to remove the tie and undo the buttons to his shirt.
Her fingers traced out fragile ripples of light where they touched his bared chest. Willow watched in fascination as she painted out a pulsing golden wave over his beating heart. He moved down to gently nip at her hose, then licked down to her throat. She let her fingers glide up the planes of his face, creating eddies of silvery-blue and crimson ripples of light across his skin. Sparkles of pure white and saffron danced in his hair at her touch. "Wow," she gasped, and lifted her hips as he pulled her panties down. "This is like making out and finger painting with laser lights at the same time."
"Willow. . ." he murmured warmly from somewhere between her breasts. "Stop talking, or I'm going to start listening to my second thoughts about this."
Willow bit her tongue and moved her legs up around him, looking up at the play of light on the ceiling above the couch. Giles pushed her shirt up over her head and eased his hands under her to fumble at the back of her bra. Smiling, Willow let him work for it, taking advantage of his absorption to slip a hand down the back of his trousers to rest on the bare flesh of his ass.
He drew in a long breath, moved up to gaze intently into her face as he pulled her bra off her shoulders. Out of reflex, she moved to cover her exposed breasts, but the look on his face convinced her otherwise. She stretched her arms out and he bent to one breast, sucking at it passionately. Willow laced her fingers through his hair and shut her eyes, allowing herself to bask in the sensation.
With her eyes shut and giving her body wholly over to him, she realized she was beginning to develop an odd sensation of overlay. She opened her eyes. "Giles --" which sounded odd, given the circumstance. "Rupert?" which sounded odd too. She thought about 'Ripper', but shivered with the realization that she wasn't brave enough to try that yet.
He hesitated, then moved to look her in the face again, his hands resting tentatively on her breasts. The sense of being in two places at once disappeared. "We should --" he began, his eyes glowing green in the darkened room, like a cat's.
"Shut up," Willow said, and kissed him hard to cut off any more of that. She was a pretty good kisser when she trusted herself -- Oz had said so, and she sensed that Giles was vibed into her kissing technique too. "It's just --" she said breathlessly as she broke the kiss, not wanting to give the Watcher any more room for trouble-making. "Are we going to -- um -- blow up anything -- I mean anything you'll have to repair -- if we keep this up?"
Giles reluctantly tore his gaze from hers to look about the room. The halo of light that had encircled them before was back again with a kaleidoscopic vengeance. "Actually," he said, "the excess magical energy has to be worked off in some manner. This is as safe as any other."
"Good." Willow threw her arms around him and hauled him in for another kiss.
He drifted down her bared torso, leaving hot kisses and flame-like glimmers of light in his wake. Willow gasped as his tongue flickered across her navel, and then he'd passed over and below. She scooted back against the arm of the coach to give him room, dropped her head back, and cried out as she felt his tongue move inside of her. Desperate for more of him, she grabbed at his head and looped her legs up over his sides.
Giles gasped and drew suddenly away. "Willow --"
"Sorry, sorry," she said in chagrin, letting her legs down. "I forgot."
He moved up to kiss her on the belly. "To tell the truth, so had I."
Willow reached to pull his shirt off of his shoulders, wincing at the sight of the still livid bruises that ran up and down his ribs and across his belly. He hadn't said anything to any of them about broken ribs, but he'd been tightly taped on one side.
"A couple of cracked ribs," he reassured her. "The endorphins are helping again. Just go a little easy on. . ." He ran a hand over her knee.
She nodded and leaned to kiss him lightly on the lips. He smiled at her, eased her back, and moved south again.
Willow threw her head back and melted into the sensation of his mouth moving on her down there. Having to remember to keep from hurting him -- she let one leg fall off the edge of the couch -- she felt weirdly powerful. He'd taken control of her body to the extent that she felt as if he were manipulating each and every nerve ending, but even with the power he was exerting over her she still had room to be protective of him.
She sensed Giles vibing in to her almost maternal feelings. He grabbed her thighs with a bruising passion and moved in on her with a compensating -- and somewhat annoyed -- aggression.
Willow's amusement was overrun by a sudden overload of sensation of him. Light pounded at her and she grabbed at his head in a desperate attempt to hang onto the precipice forever. Inevitably she toppled with a wail.
He licked her once more, then moved up to lay his head on her stomach.
"Uh -- wow --" Willow managed, blinking rapidly to clear the stars from her eyes. She realized that, although he wasn't complaining, she had her legs wrapped up around his sides again. She hastily brought her knees down and pried her fingers from his hair, then rested her hand against the side of his face. "Uhm -- did you --"
"Mmm-hmm," he said, still resting on her stomach.
"I thought so," she said in satisfaction, and let her head drop back against the arm rest. The room was spinning and it took her a minute to realize that the effect was more a result of the lights whirling about their bodies than of any wooziness on her part. "Maybe we're going to need sunglasses to -- to -- do what we were just doing."
Giles groaned and propped himself up on his elbows to look at her. His hair was mussed -- Willow gave into the temptation to smooth it back into place, even though she knew it would only annoy him more. "Willow," he panted, "you didn't mention anything about experiencing increased libido after your previous castings."
She frowned. "Increased --? Oh. Well. You didn't ask."
"I told you to write down everything you were feeling. I didn't think I'd have to ask," he said, trying to look stern. He was having a hard time of it in his present position, however.
Willow scooted a bit further under him, determined not to let him get pedantic on her. "Well, what about you?" she demanded. "You didn't say anything about what spell casting would do to your libido."
"It wouldn't have mattered if it hadn't affected you in the same manner. . ." Willow pulled his head up and took his ear in her mouth, smiling at the effectiveness of that maneuver in cutting him off. Giles sat up, drawing her with him into his lap, and they wandered off together in another lingering kiss that gradually started building into sexual tension again.
"Oh, lord," he muttered as they broke off for air.
Willow unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. "Neither of us wanted to bring the subject up," she giggled. "So now we're stuck with the consequences." She moved back, tugging his pants and boxers down around his hips and stared at the erection that sprang forth.
"Yes?" he said with an almost evil humor.
She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and pulled. He threw his head back and grabbed at her hand. "Gods," he panted.
Willow smiled at him and shut her eyes to concentrate. When she focused like this, she'd found that she could hone in to how she was affecting him and just how to go about getting more. His hands moved up to her arms, then up to her head. Willow grabbed his shoulders and shifted herself upwards, achingly needing to bring him inside her.
"Willow, no," he said, although she sensed his painful desire to have her there.
"It's okay," she insisted. "I want to."
He carefully pushed her away. "You're one week from your menses. You can't risk --"
"Oh, right," she sighed. She had condoms -- an as-yet unopened box -- but they were in the bag she'd left in Cordelia's car. She knew without having to ask that Giles had some in his bedroom. But to mention them out loud would bring up the ghost of Jenny Calendar, which she knew would effectively darken if not end this encounter.
"Here," Giles said gently, and moved back out from under her. "We can share without going to the wicket here."
Willow tilted her head quizzically, then picked up on the cricket metaphor. "We call it 'getting to home base'." She leaned forward to run her tongue down the length of his cock.
He ran his hands over her hair, whispering her name. If he had picked up on her memories of having already gone this far with Oz, Willow couldn't tell. She pushed Oz guiltily to the back of her mind. She knew that they were going to have to deal with any number of awkward problems that were going to result from this, but since the problems weren't going anywhere, she was going to keep things simple in the here and now.
She took the head of his cock into her mouth and sucked, savoring the residual taste of his first orgasm on her tongue. His fingers wound painfully through her hair; he was holding back from thrusting. It's okay, she thought to him, I've had a little practice, and moved to prove it by sliding him further back into her mouth. He was big though; the thought of taking him any more than that intimidated her. Their mutual empathy alerted him to her hesitation and he pulled back slightly to give her some breathing room.
They fell into a gentle rhythm, almost like dancing, and as Willow relaxed she experimented with taking him to the back of her throat. Definitely, that was going to take some getting used to, and she abruptly realized -- as Giles tensed -- that she wasn't going to get much more practice at it this time out. She hastily pulled back, grabbed at his cock, and climbed into his lap again; he came, pumping wildly into her hand, against her belly. Willow felt the shockwave of his climax pass violently through her body, and she cried out his name. He slipped a finger hard up inside of her, and then she was pulsing in her own orgasm.
They slumped heavily, clinging to each other. Willow heard the telephone ringing off in some other dimension. They waited for it to stop, but it kept on ringing.
"You oughta get that," she said drowsily. "It might be somebody important.
"Right," Giles said, not moving at all.
"If you don't answer, they might be cranky," she tried again. "They might come over here."
He sighed and leaned back to fumble the telephone from its place on the end table. "Giles here," he murmured. Willow snuggled up to his chest to listen. "Xander. No. I'm quite all right. Really. Yes. Willow's all right. She found me. No. I'll make sure that she gets home okay. . . Not necessary, we've already called a taxicab. Yes, I promise. No vampire hunting tonight. You and Cordelia enjoy yourselves." He dropped the receiver back on its hook, and shut his eyes.
"Liar," Willow said.
"We'd best call the cab. It's almost midnight. We don't want your parents to worry."
She sighed and pulled back to examine her arms. They glowed with a soft, shifting pastel light. "Like they won't worry when I come in glowing like something from the radioactive bog?"
"I take your point," he gave in without much of a fight. "You should call them though."
Willow picked the telephone up and dialed her home. As she expected, her father was still up. She didn't really want to lie to him, so she tried to keep it as short as she could. "Hi dad! Uhm yeah, really great except for a freak thunderstorm. Listen, is it all right if I stay over tonight at my friend's house? Okay. I'll call you if I'm running late tomorrow." She let the receiver fall back and laid her head back on his chest.
"I'm sorry," Giles said, running his hand down her back. He lay back and turned to his side, and pulling her to lie tightly against him. On the narrow couch they barely fit, but Willow felt secure. She draped an arm over his waist. "You shouldn't have to lie to your father. Willow --"
"We've been through this already," Willow said tiredly. "And that wasn't the first time I've told them I was somewhere I wasn't. If they call Cordelia's house, she'll back my story."
He said nothing. After a minute, Willow realized that he'd fallen asleep. She gazed at his sleeping face for a moment, traced a finger across the partially healed gash over his eyes, then looked at the glowing flesh of the arm he had wrapped around her shoulder. The Eyghon tattoo was still there -- she wondered why he'd never had it removed -- flat and dark, the only thing about him untouched by the magical light. It troubled her; she ran her thumb across it, trying to pick up on why it felt so wrong.
Willow reached up to the back of the couch and pulled the blanket that was spread there over their half-clothed bodies. Wrapping her hand again around his, she fell into a warm sleep.
Drusilla stood outside, by the door to the Watcher's flat. He was infuriatingly close, had been on the brink of stepping out into her world, but that little red-headed bitch had gotten in his way.
"No party for Princess tonight," she growled to herself. She was going to have to do something about that girl. Rival, Drusilla thought. But the Watcher was obviously going nowhere without his little strumpet. Well, she'd just have the tart for her dinner, that would fix him.
There was that connection between the two however, that she'd have to be careful of. They seemed oddly reluctant to embrace the full power behind the link, and that was fine by Drusilla. She could put that connection to work in her favor.
No use in waiting on the doorstep tonight though. The two of them had tumbled together into a deep sleep. Dru slunk off into the darkness. She was ravenous and needed to take her frustration out now on something young and tender. The girl and the Watcher would wait until tomorrow.