Chapter 7: Falling

Willow sat silently on the queen-sized bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. She gazed blankly at the tapestry that covered the stone wall as she thought about Giles. She could still feel his embrace even though hours had passed since the lesson.

When their minds had merged she had touched the real Giles. She felt him completely for the first time. She felt him with no barriers, and it had been incredible. She couldn't find any words as he released her, but she longed to tell him…to tell him that she felt his passion for her, that she felt his passion for life. His mind was a wonderful complex labyrinth, and she yearned to explore it again.

She let her eyelashes fall to her cheeks and imagined kissing him. The thought made her heart pound and her adrenaline flow. She also felt magic simmering in her belly. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead as she practiced pushing down the dark magic and pulling forth the white.

It wasn't as easy without Giles to help her, but slowly she managed to shift the balance within herself. She thought of him, of the pressure of his lips on hers. She thought of the scratchy feeling of his cheek on hers…and the feeling of his lips on her neck…

A sharp knock on the door jolted her so quickly out of her daydream, that she inadvertently released some magic. The tapestry snapped off the hanger and fell to the floor.

"Come in," she tried to keep her voice calm even though her heart hammered from being startled.  The door swung open and Bridget walked into the room, haughty as usual, one hand on her hip.

"I just came to tell you that the other members of the coven are arriving, if you would like to come down to the parlor to meet them," she raised her brow at Willow's attire. She was wearing only a fitted tank top and her underwear.

"You should probably put some clothes on first, though." She looked appraisingly at Willow's long freckled legs.

Willow's face flushed under her stare. She hadn't thought about what she was wearing before she told Bridget to come in…although Bridget's outfit was equally revealing. Again, in leather, the zipper that ran up the front of her shirt was unzipped to just below her breasts. Her skintight pants clung to ever curve. Willow had to force herself to look away.

She stood up and moved to find some clothing, but she found herself face to face with Bridget. She couldn't help but stare at her luscious pouty red lips. Willow lifted her eyes finally to meet Bridget's blue gaze. She almost jumped when she felt Bridget's hand brushing against her cheek.  Willow saw desire in that blue gaze.

Her heart pounded as Bridget leaned in and pressed her lips softly against Willow's. Willow let her eyes close and opened her mouth to Bridget. Their tongues met in a soft warm dance. Willow felt Bridget's leather legs against her bare skin as Bridget pulled her closer. She felt Bridget's hand on the back of her neck, pulling her mouth passionately deeper into her own.

The feeling of someone holding her close, of someone wanting her was intoxicating. And Bridget was one of the sexiest women she had ever met. She knew that she could let this go all the way if she wanted to, but something made Willow push Bridget slowly away.

"Wait," she said, breathless. Bridget's dilated blue discs peered into her.

"I want you Willow," she said, not one to mince words.

Willow was about to reply to Bridget, when she looked up and saw Giles in the hallway. The blank look on his face was worse than any rage he could've shown at that moment. He met her eyes for a brief moment and then walked away. 

Bridget saw Willow pale visibly and turned and caught a glimpse of Giles as he walked away. She frowned at herself for not shutting the door. Now nothing was going to happen. She flashed a look of disappointment at Willow and walked out of the room.

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Willow sank back down onto the bed and put her head in her hands.  She had to figure out how to handle this. Her mind swam with confusion. On, the one hand, she didn't owe Giles any explanations. She had never made a commitment to him. But even Willow knew in her soul that she had hurt him and that nearly brought her to tears.  A feeling of panic welled up in her chest. She couldn't lose him now that she had just realized her feelings for him. She had to talk to him.

She quickly threw on a pair of jeans and rushed, barefoot, out into the hallway. Where could he have gone? Grounding herself, she reached out with her mind and tried to sense him.  There, he was in the library on the second floor. Even over the distance, she could feel the waves of anger and sadness coming from him.

§

Giles hadn't felt emotion this strongly since his Ripper days. It took every ounce of self-restraint not to lash out physically at Bridget, when what he yearned to do was wrap his hands around her treacherous throat. She, of all people, knew how much Willow meant to him, and she had pursued her anyway.

"Bitch," he mumbled to the empty room.

He had thought he and Willow were growing closer, but his illusions had been shattered when he saw her in Bridget's arms. Giles kicked the nearest chair. It toppled over and skidded noisily across the stone floor. He knew he had to get a hold of himself. He felt Willow's presence before she spoke.

"That was a pretty shady looking chair. Good thing you killed it," her words were light, but her tone was tense.

He turned and just looked at her, his brows furrowed. He fought to regain a blank face. She didn't owe him anything.

Her heart sank even lower at his blank expression. She couldn't even sense his emotion. He was closing himself off to her.

"Giles, I…" she grappled for the right words. "Can we please talk?" She so was afraid that he would say no.

He stared at her for a long time and finally nodded reluctantly.

"Alright." He sighed and uprighted the chair. She sat in it, not unaware of the irony. He leaned against the solid oak desk and waited for her words.

"I pushed Bridget away because of you Giles," she got right to the point.

"Because of me?" he struggled with the simultaneous hurt, jealousy, and potential joy that her statement offered him.

Her green gaze pierced into him. She looked afraid.

"We both know that Bridget is incredibly sexy, and kissing her wasn't the worst moment of my life…" She saw the jealousy well in his eyes. "But I think that this thing between you and I, whatever it is, is something special. Giles, I felt closer to you tonight than I've ever felt with anyone before. Even Tara," she whispered. The pain and guilt in her voice made him want to hold her.

"I know you are still grieving over her."

"Of course I am," she wiped a single tear away. "But that doesn't mean that I don't have feelings for you Giles. I'm sorry that you saw that scene with Bridget, but I didn't ask for it to happen, and I stopped it before it could go any farther. I stopped it…because, I would rather be with you."

He nearly trembled under her loving gaze. He felt as if he were dreaming. For so long he had longed to hear her say that she wanted to be with him. For so long he had convinced himself that it would never happen.

But here she sat, her voice filled with longing, telling him words that he had longed for.

Never breaking eye contact, he knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his own. His mind flashed the recent memory of kneeling in front of her at Buffy's house, wanting to kiss her, but holding back.

He ached to touch her face. Willow brought her hand up to his and rubbed a thumb over his whiskers. He hadn't shaved today. Her cheek was like silk compared to his. She closed her eyes as he stroked her cheek, savoring the sensation. 

Then she could feel him move closer and his lips connected with hers in glorious warmth. He tasted spicy, like tea. She tasted like peppermint. He registered in the back of his mind that she must have just brushed her teeth after dinner. But that thought immediately went out of his head as she moved her hand to his hair and pulled him closer, letting her tongue explore his mouth. The blood in his veins raced as he yielded to the passion of the kiss. He lost himself in the sensation of their merging mouths.

They separated, both breathless. Giles ran his hands along Willow's freckled shoulders and made her shiver.

"We should stop," he said gently, not wanting to. He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and looked into her eyes.

"Yes, that's probably a good idea" she nodded in agreement, lying.

He smiled at her bravado. With their collaborative self-control, they could take things slowly. But not too slowly, he thought as he ran his hands along the silky skin of her arms. She smiled back.

"Slow is good, Giles. I think that's what I need."

"Then let's go have some tea with the coven then," he stood up and helped her to her feet. "Before I lose my senses."  He brushed his lips gently over hers and draped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards the door.