FIC : Coming Home (G/W) Rating : G

[spikesdeb.livejournal.com]

Title: Coming Home
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Giles/Willow
Rating: G/Suitable for All
Warnings: None
Disclaimers: I don't own Giles, or Willow, or any of their playmates. I sometimes dream that I do, but that doesn't count.
Summary: Post series, but ignoring completely the Season 8 comics. I just do, don't hate me. Willow's been away to find herself, but when she comes home, she finds something else instead. Romance.
Notes: Thanks to the lovely seductivembrace for working on my boo-boos, and for bringing out my inner Gillow kink - clearly. Any errors found are mine alone, due to my non-stop fiddling.




Giles took advantage of the temporary silence to pour himself a cup of tea and read the Times. It was a rare pleasure to be able to sit and contemplate things without the usual background thump and clatter that denoted a house full of slayers in training. Even in his den, which was in the cellar of the Victorian townhouse, its walls thick and sturdy, he could clearly hear the mock battles going on above him.


Today, however, Xander and Buffy had taken the girls on a field trip and he had the entire house to himself. Pure bliss.


So the sound of footsteps on the stairs leading to his den startled him and he jumped to his feet, searching around him for something to use as a weapon. Cursing the fact that he’d grown complacent since having a ready-made cotillion of bodyguards move into his home, he seized upon Tobin’s Spirit Guide as being the handiest and thickest book on his desk and raised it above his head to use as a club. Giles’ heart beat hard in his chest and he felt a thrill race through him as he waited for the intruder. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed the adrenaline surge that used to be the default throughout his time in Sunnydale. The grin that curved his lips was entirely Ripper-like, and he bounced on his toes, eager to leap into the fray.


He was somewhat disappointed, therefore, when instead of a scaly, sharp-toothed demon, the face that peeped around the door was Willow’s. The disappointment soon faded to be replaced by pleasure, then quickly replaced by confusion as he queried where that hot flush of pleasure had come from. The Ripper in him knew exactly where it had come from; the uptight Englishman tutted internally and pushed that knowledge to the edge of his consciousness where it hovered, leering insistently.


“Hey,” Willow muttered, coming towards him for a quick hug. It had been a while since she’d been what she now considered home and she’d missed everybody. Giles especially, and that was one of the reasons she was there. Finding the house empty had puzzled her at first, but she put out feelers for any auras and had located Giles in the basement.


Giles was momentarily flustered when he suddenly had an armful of Willow, coming so close on the realisation that given another time and another life he would have taken advantage of that, but he managed to hug her awkwardly, still hefting the book he’d grabbed in one hand. Willow noticed his stiffness and grinned against his shoulder. Giles; he was so British. That was why she loved him.


And that was a revelation she’d keep to herself for now, thank you very much. Her schoolgirl crush when Giles had first come to Sunnydale had simmered away nicely, sometimes on the back burner, but never going out. When she’d discovered Tara and such an all-consuming love, all other fancies and flirtations had been put away. Later, the fact that Willow’s yearnings appeared to be something entirely other than the definitely masculine watcher meant that even after Tara’s loss and the ill-fated attempt to replace her with Kennedy, Giles had been only a comforting shoulder to lean on and to gain strength from. At least at first.


But Willow had been away from the familiar for a long time, and she’d had time to think. She’d cut all ties with Kennedy, the young girl not mature enough to accept that though Willow didn’t want her as a lover, she didn’t want to lose her as a friend. In the end, after an acrimonious exchange of bitter words, Willow had simply taken herself off to a place of serenity and calm and spent a couple of months taking stock of all the changes, not least that of her own status. The final battle in Sunnydale had been devastating on many levels, but it wasn’t every day that one found out one had god-like powers. Strangely, the descent into darkness that Willow had experienced when Tara died had helped her to focus when flooded with so much good, and it hadn’t gone to her head. So, she had gifts; well, so did most of her friends. She wasn’t unique. She was just lucky.


Mostly lucky. She’d still lost the love of her life and her first love, Oz, hadn’t been in touch since the apocalypse. She’d toyed with the idea of trying to track him down during her sabbatical, but in the end she’d found herself craving other male company.


Older. More refined. With a dangerous, wild streak hidden beneath the tweed.


When no amount of chanting or meditating could get Giles out of her head, Willow had packed up her herbs and her spell-books and headed home, needing girlie chats with Buffy to sort out her confusion, and determined to prove to herself that all she wanted was a little familiar comfort and understanding from her mentor and friend.


The mentor and friend whose neck she was nuzzling...


Both of them stiffened at the same time as they realised what Willow was doing. With a stifled ‘meep’, Willow sprung away from Giles and lowered her head to hide her blush, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. Again. It had happened before, when they were trying to rid the High School of evil spirits, why couldn’t it...? And that would be Willow letting her mind wander to avoid facing Giles and discussing the situation like adults.


Giles, for his own part, was clinging onto the book he now held protectively in front of him, his knuckles white with tension. He fervently hoped that Willow hadn’t noticed the way he was sniffing at her hair, but good god – he was only human!


In the end, Giles opted for the time-honoured land of denial manoeuvre, and Willow was happy to follow suit, grasping the cup of tea he proffered in shaking hands and letting the babble fly. Her plan had never been to come back and seduce Giles; truth be told, she hadn’t had a plan – still didn’t – but whatever it was, she wasn’t ready for it.


“So,” Willow asked, “you’re home alone?” She hadn’t meant it to come out all sultry. Had it been sultry?


Giles tried to stop his teeth knocking against the china teacup, and used all his strength of will to calm his racing heart before he answered. Lord, but Willow was all languid and...sultry, that was the word.


“Erm, yes. I find myself alone. For once. I’m not usually. Not ever, in fact. Totally surrounded by people.” Giles drained the teacup and reached for the teapot to pour some more. Hands occupied by tea were less likely to shake – or to reach out for the redhead who had his nerve-endings on fire.


“And you? You’re well? You look very...well. Rested.”


“Yes! Thank you; a little bit of meditation and no meat – animal meat! Not...man...meat...” Willow’s voice tailed off. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. Especially not while jet-lagged.


Giles stared down at his now empty cup and swallowed, hard. Visions of Willow chewing down on...well. He shifted in his seat, eyeing the doorway behind Willow’s head, and tamping down the urge to flee.


It was Willow, for god’s sake. Why was he so jumpy around her? He’d known her for years, had been aware how special she was even when she hadn’t any idea. He’d watched her blossom from a gawky, self-conscious teenager into a beautiful, well-rounded, capable and very gifted woman. And there hung the tail...


Giles didn’t see Willow as the shy young girl any more. He saw her as a very lovely, and very tempting, young woman, and one who was sending his senses reeling.


And he was home alone...


oo0oo


After an awkward half hour, Willow had pleaded tiredness and Giles had helped her up to her room with her luggage. There was a heart-stopping moment on the threshold of Willow’s room where she’d turned quickly, not realising that Giles was right on her heels and they’d bumped heads, almost lips, each backing away and apologising furiously. Thankfully, Giles had handed her the final piece of her luggage and scurried off, and Willow was now safe in her locked room with her pounding heart and racing mind the only things she had to deal with.


After a quick nap and a shower, Willow felt more able to deal with her feelings and to consider what she was going to do next. The new Watchers’ Council could use her expertise in training the new slayers, Giles had said as much before she’d left for her retreat. The Coven that had sheltered her and helped her back from the edge of darkness was also eager to reconnect and she had a standing invitation to join the community permanently should she so wish. The only obstacle to deciding on her future appeared to be her inability to order her emotions adequately. She’d hoped Buffy would be around to eat ice-cream, bemoan the fate of their love lives and generally regress to the innocent and easy warmth of their pre-apocalypse friendship. That way, Willow figured she could sort out the reality from any half-remembered and half-imagined connection she had with Giles and take the next steps along her chosen path.


Giles had said that Buffy, Xander and the girls would be back around 9:00 pm, so the ice-cream reunion would probably be put off until tomorrow. And until then, Willow had time to kill. It was only just noon and she couldn’t stay upstairs all day.


She crept downstairs on her tiptoes, hoping that Giles had returned to his den and that she would be able to while away the hours with trashy TV and unhealthy snacks. There was no sign of him, so she scoured the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator, finding lots of goodies, thanks no doubt to the household consisting mainly of hormonal teenage girls. She grabbed a good handful and wandered into the living room, settling herself on the overstuffed couch and switching on the TV. She’d forgotten how quirky British television could be, having been away from it for so long, and the soaps she’d been following before she left were far too confusing for her to get into without a major catch-up, so Willow found herself channel-hopping without really settling on anything she fancied. A fashion magazine lay on the coffee table, so she left the TV on a music channel and snuggled into the cushions to look at highly paid, skinny models wearing outrageously priced pieces of “haute couture”.


Willow was jolted awake some time later by the buzz of the telephone, momentarily unable to remember where she was. She leapt to her feet, the magazine sliding to the floor, and searched for the telephone, but it cut off before she could find it. Minutes later, she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and peeped around the door just as Giles was about to go upstairs.


“Giles?” she queried, “were you looking for me?”


“Oh, Willow. Yes. The telephone call, it was Buffy.”


Willow smiled, happy that she’d soon be seeing her friend. “Great! Did you tell her I was here?”


Giles nodded. “I did, and Xander. They’re both delighted, obviously – but I fear your reunion will have to wait a day. They’ve encountered a nest of particularly hardy demons that, while not exactly fierce, will provide ideal practice for the young slayers to train with. They won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. I’m sorry, I know you were looking forward to seeing them.”


Willow was a little disappointed, but it was only one day, and it gave her time to rest and recuperate from her long flight. It was only when she realised that she would be spending the night alone in the same house as Giles that she started to panic.


It took Giles a little longer to reach the same conclusion, but when he did, he turned and fled the room, muttering that he was in the middle of important research and would be around to arrange dinner later.


Willow sank back onto the couch and tucked up her legs. It seemed as if fate was determined to throw her and Giles together, and maybe that was something she should consider. After all, Buffy had once told her to seize the day. And yes, that hadn’t turned out great, what with Jesse getting bitten and Xander and herself chased through the cemetery by rabid vampires, but still. Maybe this time would be different.


oo0oo


At 8:00 pm, Willow came downstairs to meet Giles, as arranged, to go out to dinner. He’d been adorably embarrassed earlier when he’d suggested they don’t eat in as there was little food in the house that wasn’t full of additives and sugar, and Willow supposed that she blushed just as much when she accepted his invitation. It had taken her a full hour to select her outfit, very out of character for her, but as she was unsure how she viewed her dinner-date, it was to be expected that she wouldn’t know how to dress for him. In the end she’d settled on a scoop-necked dark grey jersey dress with black knee-length boots, finishing off with a long, black pendant and earrings and a hint of makeup.


Giles looked up as Willow came into the living room and stifled the urge to howl. She was stunningly, serenely beautiful. He got to his feet and coughed to clear his throat. He was glad that he had decided on casual rather than formal and was wearing a pair of dark grey slacks and a black casual shirt as it seemed to complement Willow’s outfit well. He hoped the difference in their ages wouldn’t be too apparent if he wasn’t wearing his old-man tweed.


Willow swallowed hard when she saw Giles. The way he was dressed...it was as if he’d known the colours she would choose. More power to kismet, she supposed, and smiled.


Giles managed a smile back, and followed Willow out into the hallway and to his car, opening the door to let her get in first, then walking around to get into the driver’s side.


“This is new,” Willow said, checking out Giles’ new sports car. “I like it. It’s very you.” She turned to look at Giles as he smiled, thanking her for her approval.


“Glad you like it. A little ostentatious, perhaps, but one only lives once. Unless you’re Buffy, of course.”


The shared humour broke the ice, and Willow started to relax, deciding to just let the evening unwind and take it from there.


The restaurant was nicely understated, quiet but with a pleasant ambience, and Willow soon found herself chatting happily and animatedly with Giles, no awkwardness affecting their meal. She was finding out more about him this evening than she had ever discovered during all the time she’d known him, and the more she talked to him, the more fascinating she was finding him. And the more attractive.


She’d had two or three glasses of full-bodied red wine, on Giles’ recommendation, and a delicious meal, and was more languid and relaxed than she’d been in… forever, really.


Giles had been unable to take his eyes off her the entire time, and try as he might, he could not help but wonder if her lips would feel as soft as they looked. He stopped himself a number of times from touching her fingers as they danced around her wine glass, tapping the table. The flush of her cheeks from the food and the alcohol just set off her huge green eyes to perfection and as she chattered happily, Giles thought back to earlier in the day and clung to the memory of the way she had nuzzled her face into his shoulder.


Should he read anything into that, he wondered? Was it simply that she was glad to be among friends again, after being away for so long? Was he being a complete and utter fool, thinking that this gorgeous and gifted woman would ever find a crusty old academic such as he attractive?


Willow repeated Giles’ name as he seemed lost in his own thoughts. The empty plates had long since been cleared away and she’d drained her wineglass, the waiter hovering discreetly waiting for the signal to get the bill. Giles shook himself and nodded that they were ready to go, and once payment had been made and many compliments aimed at the chef, he offered his arm to Willow who took it gladly and they wandered outside to the car.


Willow stumbled a little as they hit the outside air, the wine going to her head to join the last of her jetlag. Giles turned and caught her easily, his arms wrapping around her to keep her steady. Steady, however, was the very last thing that Willow felt.


Dizzy, certainly.


A little drunk? Probably.


Brave enough to follow the urge to kiss Giles and let whatever happened, happen?


Apparently so.


Giles gave up on all pretence as he felt Willow’s lips touch his, clutching her tighter to him as they stood on the steps of the restaurant, kissing her passionately and leaving her in no delusion as to his feelings for her. Willow responded eagerly, standing on tiptoes so that she could get closer to him and gripping the back of Giles’ head, her fingers ruffling his hair.


The soft ‘ahem’ of diners wanting to get past them on the stairs broke the spell, and they parted, reluctantly, grinning and giggling as they raced to the bottom and got into the car. Willow’s eyes sparkled as she leaned across to kiss Giles again before he drove off, leaving her hand to rest on his thigh, squeezing gently, and loving the way his breath hitched in his throat as her fingers circled.

As the car pulled up at the front of Giles’ house, Willow laced her fingers with his, wanting him to see that she hadn’t changed her mind. Giles was in playful mood, turning to kiss her, and nip at her bottom lip.


He whispered, softly, “So, do you want to come in? I’m home alone.”


Willow grinned and kissed him back. “Oh god, yes. I thought you’d never ask.”