Willow followed the giant man through a maze of corridors, stopping every once in awhile to admire the artwork hanging on the walls. "Who is that?" she asked, pausing in front of an ancient mosaic.
"That's the Jewish maiden Ishetar." Edwin turned back to join the girl. "Her name is similar to Ishtar, but they are not the same person. According to Jewish legend, she was the prey of the angel Shemhazai, who planned to rape her. She tricked him into revealing the secret name of Jehovah, and used it to ascend into heaven. She became one of the Pleiades."
"Wow. This thing must be at least 1000 years old." Willow said in awe. The girl had Buffy's eyes....
"Actually, it's about three thousand. The order came upon it in 1767, and it's hung here since 1944." Edwin began to walk on. "There will be more time for a tour later. Right now I'm sure you'll want a hot bath and a change of clothes."
They walked on in silence for a few more minutes, finally stopping in front of a set of red double doors. "The guest wing," her guide said as he opened the right hand door. "This way."
They paused in front of the first door in the corridor, and Edwin pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and fumbled with them for a moment. He found the correct key and shoved it into the lock. The doors swung open to reveal a generous suite.
The sitting room where they stood was furnished entirely in modern leather and brass. A plump black suede sectional sat in the middle of the room, and several glass tables surrounded the sitting area. A giant black and gold enameled armoire faced one side of the sectional, and a matching one was placed at the opposite end of the room next to a brass and glass dining room group. Erte renderings hung on the walls, and a small fireplace sat near the door to the bedroom. Willow's eyes widened. "Wow," she breathed. The room was so modern, with its pure white walls and carpeting, that the effect was nearly stunning. They had, after all, just come from a hallway made of stone and decorated in a style Buffy would have termed "undead ugly."
"Like it?" Edwin asked as he moved to the armoire facing the sofa. He opened the top doors, revealing a large television, a VCR, and a stereo. The bottom doors held a collection of CD's and movies. "These are here for your amusement, of course. Feel free to use them. The other armoire has a computer in it -- "
Willow raced over to it and pulled it open. It was state-of-the-art, and seemed to have all the amenities. "I could hack into Interpol with this thing!"
Edwin grinned at her. "Just don't do it from here."
Willow raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say that I would, I said that I could. Right now, I'd rather have a shower..."
Edwin opened the door near the fireplace. "Your bedroom is this way."
The bedroom was furnished similarly to the sitting room, with a brass and enamel set, and the bathroom was furnished nicely; it was complete with a whirlpool and a small sauna. "Oooh," Willow gasped. "I could go for a whirlpool right now. Better than a shower."
"You've got time. Dinner isn't until eight. If you haven't a dress, there's sure to be one in the closet in the bedroom." He began to head for the door.
"Wait! How do I find the dining room?" Willow asked frantically. "This place is huge; I'll get lost!"
"I'm sure Rupert will be up to fetch you." At that moment, the telephone rang. Willow hadn't even noticed it sitting on the nightstand. She walked over to pick it up as Edwin said, "That ought to be him right now. You'll excuse me, Miss Rosenberg? I can let myself out."
She nodded and whispered "Thanks!" as she reached for the telephone.
"Willow?" Giles asked over the telephone line. "You made it."
"Yeah, all in one piece, too." Giles could hear the smile in her voice as she added, "Took long enough, though. This place is huge."
"I'll bet old Edwin took the long way around. Is your room done in black?" he asked.
"Yes, it is. And brass.And I have a computer and a whirlpool and a big TV, and..."
Giles chuckled."Then you're directly above me. Dinner is at eight. Shall I fetch you?" He sounded exhausted, Willow noted. She looked at her watch. It was 5:30 now, which meant that they'd missed tea. Willow's stomach grumbled in protest at having to wait so long for dinner, but it really couldn't be helped. Besides, she really wanted to try the whirlpool...
"Willow?" Giles said. "Still there?"
"I'm here. What time?" she answered him.
"How about 7:30? Is that enough time for you?"
"Yes, it should do fine. I'll see you at seven-thirty. And Giles, take a nap. I'll call you in an hour to wake you up. Give me the number." Giles didn't miss the note of concern in her voice. He assented, knowing that even an hour's nap would get him through the night in reasonable shape.
"Very well. One hour. Dial the pound key, then seven, then five."
"Will do. Have a nice nap." Without further ado, Willow hung up the phone and headed for the whirlpool.
He'd been asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and he was sure that the phone had been ringing for a few minutes. Gods, but that girl was persistent! He rolled over and picked up the phone, managing a muffled growl into it.
"Hello to you, too," said a cheerful voice at the other end. "WAKE UP, GILES!" she shouted.
He sat bolt upright in bed and banged his head on the headboard. "Ouch, dammit!"
Willow couldn't supress a chuckle. "Time to get up, sleepyhead. Dinner's in 55 minutes. Better get a move on!"
She rang off, and Giles got himself out of bed. Laying out a new linen suit, he began to prepare for dinner. He really wanted to impress the Watchers tonight. They were the ones who would really decide the fate of their journey. He had faith that the redhead would make a dynamite Watcher, but he wasn't sure that the Council would allow him to train an apprentice and Watch a Slayer.
[I'll just have to wait and find out.] He sighed and headed for the shower.
Giles adjusted his tie one more time before he knocked on the door to Willow's suite. The whole scenario felt rather like going to a formal dance did while he was still at Secondary; the same sweaty palms and fumbledyness were upon him. [This is Willow you're taking to dinner. She's a friend! Relax, Rupert.] He forced himself to calm down, then rapped twice on the door.
"Just a sec!" She called from inside. A long moment later, a beautiful, and entirely different, Willow stepped out of the room.
The apple green dress was made of layers of perfect silk, and she'd wound a matching scarf around her neck. Her brilliant red hair was done up in a loose chignon, and a few tendrils fell to frame her face. Subtle makeup completed the effect of a grown woman standing before him. A grown, and incredibly lovely woman. [She does hide behind her clothes...at home.] His inner moppet grimaced. [Why me?]
Giles was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Willow checking him out as well. He wore a tidy, close-cut black suit and a simple white shirt. A silver watch dangled from his pocket. Looking more closely, she noted that it was the Tazmanian Devil watch the Slayerettes had chipped in on for Christmas the previous year. She also couldn't help but notice that he smelled good. Really good, like cedar wood and musk. He certainly looked handsome in his suit and tie; she was beginning to understand why Ms. Calendar had said he was sexy...
She groaned inwardly. This was Giles, for pete's sake! An older man who was a school librarian by day, and a Watcher by night -- perpetually flustered, and always stumbling with propriety. [And he's old enough to be your father, Willow Sheilah Rosenberg, so you just derail this train of thought right now!] She shook her head and refocused her eyes. The dress, the hair, the castle...everything made her feel so much older. It was almost as if it was okay somehow that she found a man twice her age attractive. She looked at him again, finally noticing that Giles was staring at her just as intently.
They both smiled awkwardly, and he offered her his arm. She reached for it silently, and the two walked down the hallway together, towards dinner.
"Wow," Willow said as she and Giles entered the dining room. "And I was worried I'd be overdressed."
"I told you on the plane that dinner was formal, didn't I? Don't worry, you'll do fine." Giles grimaced to himself. He hoped that his father would take a shine to her.
Bryan, the First Watcher, was standing on the other side of the room, looking at the pair intently. In his ninteen years as the head of the Watchers' Council, he'd never felt such internal power coming from a seemingly ordinary person. The girl, Willa something...Rupert's protege, had a spark, a potential of some kind, and being in the same room with her was beginning to give Bryan chills. To think that his once-degenerate son had found this kind of treasure in America, of all places! He sighed and shook his head. [Have to give him one thing,] he thought ruefully, [when he does something, he doesn't do it halfway.]
"Giles," Willow said, "When did they have that done?" she was pointing at the painting hanging above the fireplace. It was a portrait of him and Buffy. He'd been asked to send a picture, and the only one he'd had of both of them was taken after they'd beaten the Master during Spring Fling. He'd wondered what they'd wanted it for. Looking again, he noted that the picture was one that Xander had shot on his front porch, Buffy holding a stake and Giles nursing his bruised jaw. The artist had thankfully removed both stake and bruise, what was left was an image of Buffy in her white prom dress and he standing beside her, both grinning like madmen.
Giles smiled down at Willow. "Last summer. I'll explain later. Right now, there are a few people who want to meet you."
Giles guided Willow directly to Bryan. "Father," he began,
"Is this the girl?" he said, peering down at her through his impeccably clean eyeglasses. The man was tall and slender, and his wavy grey hair and hazel eyes were so utterly reminiscent of Giles'... the resemblance was striking. Willow stared openmouthed as the man spoke again.
"You've done well, Rupert. Well, indeed. She's lovely." Bryan struggled to supress a smile as the girl fidgeted. They were so like he and Adelaide had been at that age, he twenty years her senior, she auburn-haired and gawky, yet lovely... [Like father, like son.] Bryan mused.
Bryan turned to the girl and said, "Well, Miss Rosenberg, how do you like our little estate?"
"Well...it's, um, not that little. It's huge." She smiled up at him. "But it's lovely."
"Rupert, will you excuse us? I think Miss Rosenberg and I need to talk alone." Bryan extended an arm to Willow, who moved to take it. Giles held fast for a minute, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Be careful...he's a fast talker."
Willow shook her head at Giles and followed his father out into the garden.