Chapter 3: French Fries and Minimum Wage Labor
Willow stood at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes fixed on the top step. She had been standing there for ten minutes, maybe more, it was impossible to tell. Her bedroom and all her things were upstairs. She had been back for hours now. The sun was going down. She was exhausted. She would have to go to bed eventually.
But she couldn't go in there. She just couldn't. The last time she had been in there, she had been covered in Tara's blood. That was where it all started. She couldn't go in there.
As Willow started to turn away from the stairs, the door behind her opened. Buffy walked in, wafting in the scent of french fries and minimum wage labor, and met Willow's eyes. Buffy hesitated for a split second, then dropped her purse on the floor and enveloped her best friend in an enormous hug.
"Wil. God, I'm so glad you're back. You are back, right? You're not, like, psycho witch killer lady again, right?" Buffy released her friend from the hug and held her by the shoulders, appraising Willow.
Willow gave her familiar crooked smirk and held out her arms as if to present herself. "Nope, just me, regular ol' Willow. Well, 'cept I have been going to a bunch of therapy and I've been learning about how to control magics and stuff. But, I'm not, like, dangerous anymore, or anything. At least, that's the idea."
"Oh, good!" Buffy exclaimed. "Oh, well, I mean, it's good that you're not dangerous. I don't mean 'good' like, 'oh it's good that you got a bunch of therapy because you sure needed it' or anything like that," Buffy stammered, hating herself more with each word that fell out of her mouth.
Willow couldn't help but smile at Buffy's awkwardness. If this is the worst of it, Willow thought, then this really is going to be okay. "Don't worry about it, Buffy," Willow told her friend. "I did need a bunch of therapy. And I'm still going to go see someone now that I'm back in Sunnydale. I don't want to risk having anything bad happen because I wasn't being careful or vigilant."
"I know you don't," said Buffy, grabbing Willow's hand and squeezing reassuringly. Buffy led her friend over to the couch. "Thank god you're here. I don't know if I could have stood it another day. Xander keeps trying to talk me about awls. Maybe if he talks carpentry at you for a couple of days, I can recapture my sanity."
"Well, awl see what I can do," Willow said, nudging and winking at Buffy to emphasize the dreadfulness of the pun.
Buffy groaned. "Never mind, Wil, go back to England."
"Too late," Willow asserted with a shrug of her shoulders. "You're stuck with me now."
"Somehow I'll deal," Buffy sighed as she stretched out on the couch and rested her head in Willow's lap. Willow was touched by the ease with which Buffy slid back into their routines. There was something so vulnerable about the Slayer lying on the couch. Willow began stroking Buffy's golden hair, something she hadn't done for ages. Willow asked Buffy about her day at work, and Buffy regaled her with tales of Doublemeat being Double Sweet for nearly a half hour. By the end of the run-down, Willow was yawning so openly that even Buffy, half asleep after Willow's head-patting, noted how tired the witch must be feeling.
"Have you slept since your flight?" Buffy asked.
"Nope," Willow said, reluctant to explain why she hadn't gone to bed. "I guess I should head upstairs soon."
Buffy sat up. "Willow," she began, "I hope you're not mad, but we moved your stuff."
Willow felt a bubble of panic rise in her throat. "Oh?"
"Yeah, I mean, you were gone for so long and after what happened with…with…well, after what happened in your room, we weren't sure you would want to go in there anyway."
"Mhmm." Willow pressed her lips together to try to keep her emotions even.
"So, we put my stuff in your old room, and we moved your stuff into my room. We packed all of Tara's stuff and put it in the basement. It's all safe, I swear, we just didn't know if you'd want to see it right away. I know when Mom died, I kept finding stuff of hers and breaking down all over again. Dawn and I didn't want you to go through that."
Tears fell freely down Willow's face. Not only had Buffy and Dawn allowed Willow back into their house, but they had spent hours cleaning and moving furniture just to make her feel more welcome and safe. It was the kindest thing they had ever done for her. She tried to express her gratitude but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.
Buffy held Willow to her. Buffy knew very well that if Willow's dark side ever appeared again, they could all be killed. But right now, that didn't matter. Willow was her best friend, and she needed Buffy. Nothing could stop Buffy from being there for her.
When the tears began to slow, Willow disengaged from the hug and said good night to Buffy, heading up the stairs with much less trepidation. She walked straight to Buffy's room, now her room, and opened the door to find all her things set up just as she would have liked. She took just a moment to admire the care with which the room was composed, and then dropped into bed. She could have sworn she heard the doorbell ring, but in a moment, she was fast asleep.
"Giles!" Buffy exclaimed, trying to keep her volume down, having just sent Willow off to bed. The Slayer had intended to be stoic and professional upon seeing her Watcher again, but the sight of Giles in her doorway made her forget all of that. She leapt towards him and squeezed him as if he'd been gone for ten years. Giles, caught off-guard at Buffy's openness and warmth, laughed a little, then returned Buffy's hug in kind.
Buffy pulled back just a tad and looked up. "What'd ya bring me?" she prodded eagerly.
Giles put down a paper shopping bag and rifled through it for a moment before retrieving a small box wrapped in brown paper and string. With a formal air, he presented the box to Buffy, who hadn't truly expected to be presented with a gift.
"Oh, Giles, I was just kidding. Did you really get me something?" Buffy tore her eyes away from the tiny box to meet Giles' eyes.
"Buffy," Giles began, with his most exhausted fatherly voice in full effect, "I certainly know what is expected of me when I travel, and that it does not matter the nature of this travel. Saving Willow from herself and helping her through her recovery hardly excuses me from the requirement of getting gifts." He sighed affectionately. "Open it."
Buffy grinned in spite of herself, and made herself move with care to open the package. She untied the string and unfolded the paper that covered the box. Under the paper was a tiny velour jewelry box, deep royal blue in color. "Oh, Giles," Buffy said, her quiet awe evident.
Buffy lifted the lid of the box to reveal a white gold necklace with a small charm whose shape she didn't recognize. "It's a symbol of protection," he explained, "one that's supposed to guard the wearer against both physical and supernatural harm."
Buffy felt a little overwhelmed at the thoughtfulness of the gift. Not trusting herself to speak with an even voice, she simply gathered up her hair on top of her head and turned around so Giles could put the necklace on her. It sat just above her ever-present cross necklace. It looked like it had always belonged there.
She turned back to Giles, but had trouble meeting his eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice strained. Giles gathered Buffy into his arms.
"You're very welcome, Buffy."
"I missed you." Buffy's voice came out meek and small, quite unlike the Slayer that most knew. Giles, however, understood where this voice was coming from. It was also the reason he had felt compelled to leave last year. Buffy was like a daughter to him. She needed him. And while what he craved most was being needed, he also knew that he would stunt her growth if he didn't push her out of the nest, so to speak. So he had left, despite neither he nor Buffy really wanting him to go.
"I missed you, too," Giles replied. He tried to sound matter-of-fact with this statement, but he was quite sure that his voice shook a little as he forced the words out.
The pair stood there for another moment, taking their time in the embrace. Finally, Giles whispered, "Buffy, I love you, but you smell like chicken patties. I'm going to stop hugging you now."
Buffy laughed and let go of her Watcher, hiding her face as she wiped away a stray tear. "I better go take a shower and make sure Dawn's all good with homework and stuff. She just started at the new high school and I want to make sure we get into good routines before she gets eaten by a giant snake or turned into a hyena."
"Yes, very sensible," Giles agreed. He paused, trying to sound as casual as possible as he asked his next question. "Is Willow here?"
"Yeah, she's upstairs. She just went to bed right before you got here. She seemed pretty tired. I put her stuff in my room so she wouldn't have to…you know."
Giles nodded. "Do you mind if I go check on her? Today was a long day and I want to see if she's alright."
Buffy swept her arm up towards the stairs, inviting Giles to head on up. He tried to keep his feelings on an even keel, but his earlier realization of his attraction towards Willow was making everything jumbled and confused. He had to stop himself from jogging up the stairs, focusing his energy on taking slow steps and keeping his breath even. He was excited to see Willow again. He had been next to her all day, since last night in fact, yet he was drawn to her. He needed to see her.
He paused outside of Willow's bedroom door, listening intently to see if he could hear any evidence that she was awake. After a moment, he heard nothing, so he gripped the doorknob and gently twisted it open. Light from the hallway spilled in to reveal Willow passed out in bed, almost exactly as Giles himself had fallen asleep earlier that afternoon. Willow, still dressed in the same clothes she had worn on the journey home, was lying on her stomach with her arms by her sides. She didn't move or make a sound when Giles opened the door, so he stole into the room and shut the door quietly behind him. He walked over to the side of the bed and leaned over just slightly, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He brushed a lock of Willow's fire-red hair behind her ear. Her mouth twitched into a smile.
Giles looked around and saw a high-back lounge chair in the corner of the room. He moved it slightly so that it was facing the bed, and he sat down. It wasn't until that moment that he realized he was still exhausted. He had slept for several hours just prior, but he needed much more sleep. He hadn't intended to doze in the chair, keeping watch over Willow as she slept, but that is precisely what he did.
As the first rays of sunlight streamed into Willow's room, the witch slowly started to lift out of sleep. She opened her eyes. Rupert Giles, scourge of the supernatural, Watcher to the Slayer, was dead asleep in a white wicker chair. At some point, he had covered himself with a crocheted blanket and was lightly snoring. He still had his glasses on.
Willow grinned a wide and toothy smile, careful not to laugh aloud and wake the Watcher. She had seen Giles fall asleep many times, especially over those late nights in the school library, but the sight never got old. He was not what one might call a graceful sleeper, but there was something endearing about the goofy expression he wore while he was dreaming.
Suddenly, Willow's mind went back to the day before, when she had woken up with her face pressed against Giles' neck. He had been so close. She smelled his aftershave. It was a very masculine scent, something she had gotten a tiny whiff of lots of times, but when she awoke against him she got hit with both barrels. In that moment on the plane, a tiny twinge down through her hips had made it clear to her that she was far from over her high school crush (at least, the crush other than Xander Harris), and that same twinge returned now as she watched the Watcher sleep.
It had been months since she had last felt anything sexual for anyone, and although it wasn't totally surprising that her first stirrings were for her long-time infatuation, she was concerned. Was she developing an unhealthy attraction to Giles? Was it because he had been so kind and supportive to her during her recovery? Would these feelings pass if she just ignored them?
And aren't you supposed to be gay now? she wheedled herself. Well, apparently not that gay, she thought. She looked back over at Giles and traced his features with her eyes. He had a few more lines in his face than the men her age, that's for sure. His hairline was a bit further back. They had few shared cultural references. Well, at least outside of the reference section. She stifled a giggle at her stupid pun.
Without realizing she was doing it, Willow discovered that she was rubbing herself through the fabric of her pants. In shock, she stopped, but in doing so she almost let out an audible whine. That had felt good. Why stop now? After all, she was on her stomach, so no one could see anything, and she was in her own bedroom. She resumed the slow circles her fingers had been doing. She closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the sensation. God, it had been so long.
She opened her eyes again and looked at Giles. She imagined what it would be like if he woke up and saw what she was doing. Would he be horrified? Ashamed? Disgusted? Or maybe even excited? The possibility of being caught, something that would normally scare Willow away from anything, actually made her more enthusiastic. She could feel herself start to get wet. Taking care to move slowly and silently, she lifted her hips up off the bed just enough to slip her hand inside the waistband of her pants. She now began rubbing her clit in earnest, the sensation so intense that she let out the tiniest whisper of a gasp. Clamping her mouth shut, she closed her eyes and imagined that Giles was the one touching her.
In her mind, they were back at the library, alone in the middle of the night, burnt out from research but too wired to go home. Giles had cornered her at the far end of the stacks, away from the harsh lights of the front desk. At first, she made excuses, got embarrassed, politely declined. She was interested but scared. Giles never let her out of his sight, never raised his voice above a whisper. He turned her face to his and, pausing to meet her eyes and ascertain her agreement, pressed his lips to hers. In her fantasy, he said, "Just say 'no' and I'll leave, I'll never approach you like this again." But she couldn't say no. She didn't want to say no. So she met his eyes and said nothing. After a moment, he kissed her with fire behind it, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist so that his erection rubbed against her clit through their clothes.
That was what Willow imagined as she feverishly moved her hand, rubbing her sensitive nub with two fingers, feeling shockingly close to orgasm. Are you really going to do this with Giles right there? she scolded herself. But the answer was obvious as she picked up speed. She imagined Giles undoing his pants in that library scene, ripping her panties off, and fucking her right there against the stacks. With that thought, Willow's orgasm washed over her in waves, the pent-up stress of the last few months only serving to intensify the sensation. It took her several minutes to come down and for her breathing to return to normal. She realized she had been panting raggedly, and fairly audibly. She chanced a peek over at Giles, but his eyes were closed. She sighed, mostly in relief, but a tiny bit of her was disappointed. She had almost hoped to be caught. Looking at the clock and, realizing that she was nowhere near sleepy, Willow resigned herself to being awake. Grabbing some clothes out of a drawer, she exited the room to take a shower.
Giles dared not open his eyes again until he heard the bathroom door close and the shower turn on. He had heard everything. And he had seen more than enough.
He had been soundly sleeping until he thought he heard Willow stirring. The long nights by her bedside in England had trained him well, and he knew immediately when Willow was awake. But the next sound he heard kept him from opening his eyes. Was it a moan? His curiosity almost got the better of him, but he didn't know if she was looking at him, and he didn't want to ruin anything by showing her that he was awake. After a few more moments of listening, he understood that she was doing exactly what he thought she was. His cock stiffened painfully at the realization. He waited another full minute before allowing one eye to open just a tiny sliver. When he saw that Willow's eyes were jammed shut, he decided to risk it and opened both of his eyes.
What he saw was pure heaven. Willow, eyes crinkled closed and mouth pressed into a firm line, was trying desperately to keep ahold of herself while simultaneously starting to lose control. Her hand was working inside her pants and she was clearly close to orgasm. He looked down at himself and saw that he was completely covered by the blanket he had grabbed during the night and that Willow would not be able to see if he were to touch himself. In total silence, he unbuttoned his pants and freed his cock. The relief was tremendous. He began to stroke slowly, intending just to feel a little pleasure as he watched his dearest witch give into her desires, but soon he realized that it would be quite impossible.
He saw Willow's hips rotate back a little, then buck forward, her back arching and twisting as she got closer to orgasm. Giles was completely overcome, and although he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep his wakefulness a secret, he knew he was past the point of being able to stop. Within moments, he was rocked by his own orgasm, just seconds before Willow herself audibly gasped. Giles allowed himself to watch her come, but quickly did his best to return to his previous state. He forced himself to even out his breathing and relax his face so that it appeared he had never awoken.
Since Willow had gotten in the shower, he figured it had worked, but now he had another problem to deal with. The blanket had been considerably…sullied, and it would need to be washed. He couldn't just sit there. He had to deal with it, and Willow's time in the shower was the best opportunity he was likely to get.
As Willow finished getting dressed and exited the bathroom, she smelled a most welcome scent wafting up from the kitchen: pancakes. Trotting down to the kitchen, her breath hitched a little in her throat as she saw Giles scooting around the kitchen preparing breakfast. Jesus, Willow, she said to herself, you're going to have to get a grip if you're going to be around Giles. Just because you let yourself get carried away one time doesn't mean anything's different.
Putting on her game face, Willow strode confidently into the room and greeted the Watcher. "Heya, Giles, breakfast time already?"
Giles, having been preparing for this moment and doing his best impression of a disaffected chef, listed, "Pancakes, bacon, toast."
Willow clapped in honest excitement and seated herself at the kitchen island. She had the fleeting thought that this whole operation would go a lot more quickly if she used magic to prepare the food. Mentally, she scolded herself and went through the questions she had been practicing for months. Is anyone in danger? No. Is magic the only recourse? No. Would using magic serve the greater good in a significant way? No. Knowing full well the answer, she tacked on a final question: Are you just thinking about using magic because you're hungry and impatient? Her mouth twitched down into a small frown, annoyed with herself that she had been home less than a day and already had to talk herself out of doing something dumb.
Eager to shake off the lapse in judgment, Willow inquired, "So what's with the Chef Giles routine? Since when are you guy-who-makes-breakfast?"
In mock offense, Giles held an oven-mitted hand to his chest. "Why Willow, I'll have you know that I am quite an accomplished cook. I only burn things a quarter of the time." He and Willow shared an easy laugh, putting both of them a little at ease.
The sound of uneven thumping coming down the stairs let them know that Dawn was on her way. "Breakfast, nice!" the girl observed approvingly. "You look good in a kitchen, Giles!"
Somewhat dourly, Giles replied, "thank you, Dawn. I shall endeavor to please."
"BUFFY, BREAKFAST!" the teenager hollered, loudly enough to deafen all in the room.
A minute later, considerably quieter footsteps signaled the arrival of the Slayer, who made it clear that she hungered for pancakes this Saturday morning. As Giles churned out flapjack after flapjack, the ladies sat or stood with their plates, eagerly consuming all that was offered. Indulgently, Giles arranged bacon in the shape of a smiley face for Dawn, earning a roll of the eyes despite her secret appreciation of the silly breakfast.
After Giles himself had begun to eat and the rest of the crew were stuffed, Buffy took on an authoritative tone as she set out the plan for the day. "So, new demon in town, seems like bad news. Want to head over to the Magic Box and get our research on? Xander said he'd swing by first thing."
Giles stated in a way that he hoped was casual, "I've got to wait a few minutes. I have a load of laundry in the washer and I'd like to switch it to the dryer before we go." Willow hitched an eyebrow for an instant before she made herself smooth out her expression.
"Laundry?" Dawn asked. "Your machines broken at your house?"
"No," Giles smiled. He put down his plate, then took off his glasses and started cleaning them. "I just noticed one of the blankets upstairs was a bit musty and I figured I'd wash it."
Willow felt a suspicion about the real reason behind washing the blanket, but instantly talked herself out of that silly delusion. Giles was just being nice and proactively helping around the house. Nothing untoward had happened. At least, nothing other than what she herself had done. Still, Giles seemed to be acting kind of weird. He was using that sing-song voice that he put on whenever he was trying to convince someone of something and didn't want them asking too many questions.
Her mind went back to earlier that morning. The corner of her mouth pulled down into a slight frown. Although she felt a little silly even thinking this way, she was ashamed that she fantasized about someone other than Tara. She had betrayed Tara when they were together, and the two of them had just reconciled before she was killed. Having sexual thoughts about someone else felt like another betrayal, something Willow understood to be inevitable but still felt guilty about. A childish part of her thought that Giles didn't count because he had been there first, in a manner of speaking, but being Willow's crush for years before she even knew Tara.
In the time that Willow sat pondering the issue, Giles had slipped down to the basement to perform the aforementioned laundry swap. Willow took the opportunity to clear her mind and try to get into the right mental space to help Buffy research this new demon guy. You're going to have to be able to think about something other than guilt and Giles sometime, she told herself. There's real stuff to do.
Giles came back up the steps to rejoin the group. "Ready to go?" His enthusiasm made Willow suspicious.
