Chapter 7: The Flick of That Wrist

Willow tossed and turned for hours that night. Finally, as the sun's first light started creeping into her bedroom, she gave up on trying to get any rest. As soon as she resigned herself to wakefulness, she tumbled into sleep.

Shortly before noon, Willow sluggishly stirred out of a deep sleep. Her back and shoulders were still aching from Saturday's failed spell, and now her butt was raw. Her sheets felt like sandpaper against her rear, still tinged pink from last night's spanking.

As she shuffled into the bathroom, Willow caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was plastered against one side of her head and sticking up oddly in the back. She looked like she had been asleep for six months, not six hours. She turned on the shower and let the water run until it was almost scalding hot. Gingerly stepping out of her clothes, she got under the water, not minding the heat. It felt good to burn.


Giles opened a single bleary eye and looked at the clock. Already coming up on noon. Shit.

Grabbing his phone off the nightstand, he punched in a series of numbers.

"Hello, Giles."

"Anya. Hello."

"If you're calling to ask me to work today, the answer is no."

"Anya, I could really use your help. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important. I'm not feeling well."

"Then I suppose you could just not open the shop today. Business is always terrible on Mondays anyway. If you had read my financial report, you would know that."

"Please."

"Sorry, Giles, but I can't. I've been neglecting my vengeance duties and I'm already on probation with D'Hoffryn. If I skip out on my demon work to stand around in an empty store, I'll be shunned."

"Alright, alright. I understand. Good luck with your vengeance."

Anya's voice brightened as she took the well wishes to heart. "Thank you, Giles! Good luck with your illness." With that, she hung up.

Giles laid back on the bed and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. His head was pounding. The mostly-empty bottle of scotch on the nightstand stood as a testament to how he had spent the wee hours of the morning. The numbing effects of the alcohol had long since worn off, and now he was left with a splitting headache, an overwhelming weariness, and the same guilt that had led him to get shitfaced in the first place.

After a few minutes of wrestling with his desire to stay in bed versus his responsibility to go open the store, he chose the latter. Last night, you acted on impulse instead of doing the right thing, he thought to himself. Today, you can bloody well make better choices. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and skulked to the bathroom.


After a very, very long shower, Willow went back into her room. Her phone's notification light was blinking; she had a text from Dawn.

[Hey Willow, are you going to be at the Magic Box later?]

Willow sighed and stared at her phone for a minute, thinking about how to reply.

[I'm pretty busy today, so probably not]

Dawn, who clearly wasn't following her school's cell phone policy, shot back a text immediately.

[I need you! I have a geometry test tomorrow and I don't understand all this stuff about angles. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE]

[Why don't you just come back to the house? I can help you with your math here]

[If I stay at the shop past six, Giles feels bad for me and buys me dinner]

Willow smiled. Dawn, the cunning master of manipulation. Willow put down the phone and started getting dressed, buying her a little time to think. If she went to the shop, Giles would most certainly be there, and then she'd have to figure out how to face him. She knew she couldn't avoid him forever, but why not just one day? One day to figure out her feelings wasn't that crazy, right?

She picked up her phone again and, after a moment's hesitation, send Dawn a reply.

[We'll see, Dawnie]

Dawn's reply consisted entirely of crying emojis, which made Willow chuckle a little in spite of herself. Regardless of what Willow decided to do that afternoon, she still had some hours to kill. Her feelings were a jumbled mess and she was no closer to understanding what had happened last night, so she decided to embark on the time-honored tradition of doing chores to ignore the real world.

Three hours later, the laundry was done, the dishes were drying in the rack, the floors were swept, and she had even cleaned the inside of the refrigerator. Willow always felt better after a good cleaning binge, and even though she was no closer to getting a handle on her feelings, she still somehow managed to improve her mood. She had even managed to work some of the soreness out of her shoulders, which only ached a little now.

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and read a new message from Dawn.

[Heading over to the shop now. You're going to be there, right?]

Willow shrugged her shoulders and typed:

[OK]

Dawn once again replied in all emojis, these ones far more jovial. Willow had a hard time resisting the pleas of Buffy's little sister, especially in a math crisis. She changed out of her dusty house-cleaning outfit and threw on some clean clothes, careful to select decidedly-unflattering pants instead of a cute skirt. She set her mouth into a grim line and headed out to the Magic Box.


Giles stood behind the counter of his shop, leaning on the glass with one elbow, his fingers rubbing his brow. His expression was one of exhaustion and dull pain. He had given up on trying to appear professional and chipper, despite the fact that there were a few customers milling about. He heard the bell ring as the door opened again and winced slightly at the sound. His eyes slid over in that direction, then opened fully as he saw Willow enter the store.

Forgetting his hangover, Giles immediately stood up straight and tried to wear the most neutral face he could. He stared at Willow, hoping to catch her eyes. Although there were customers present, he hoped he could talk to her quietly out of earshot of anyone else.

Willow knew that Giles' eyes were on her from the second she entered the shop. During her journey from the house, Willow had been imagining all the things she might say to Giles, but she was completely stumped. She didn't know whether to slap him or apologize to him or kiss him or ignore him. Each option had its merits. In the absence of a clear winner, she decided to buy more time by avoiding him for now.

She walked straight to a chair near the front of the shop, not too close to Giles and definitely not too close to the training room. She sat facing away from Giles and pulled out a book.

Giles was stuck helping a customer at the register, but as soon as the transaction had ended, he slipped from behind the counter and headed over towards the witch.

"Willow," he began, his voice packed with emotion.

Just then, the bell jingled and Dawn burst into the store.

"Willow, you have GOT to help me. This geometry stuff is impossible. What the heck is a complementary angle?"

Giles cursed in his head, but managed a strained smile at Dawn, who hardly had even noticed he was there. He walked back to the counter and resumed his entirely ineffective forehead massage.

Willow, for her part, had never been happier to have Dawn interrupt something before. They set up shop at the meeting table and got to work. Her gratitude oozed into their math lesson, and soon Dawn was working through the practice problems with a much improved understanding. The pair worked for over an hour on angles, lines, perimeters, and areas.

As afternoon slid into evening, the shop phone rang and Giles answered.

"Magic Box. Oh, hello Buffy. Yes, she's here. Yes. Yes, of course, I'll tell her."

Giles paused, listening.

"Oh, well I'm sure Willow's more than capable –

No, well, that's fine, I could do that on my –

I suppose but I really rather think that –

I am not 'being British' about this."

Giles sighed as he received a lengthy admonishment over the phone.

"Alright. I said alright, Buffy. She and I will get right on it. Good luck."

Giles hung up the phone, then removed his glasses and began to clean them vigorously. The only customer in the shop cleared out as Dawn bopped over to the counter. "What's up?"

Giles replied, "That was your sister. She says you are to go home, where Xander will be there for the evening."

Giles resettled his glasses on his face and looked over at the clock. "Have you eaten?"

Dawn shot a furtive grin over towards Willow and allowed Giles to talk her into grabbing burritos on the way home for her and Xander. He handed her some cash and sent her on her way.

Willow stood up to hug Dawn goodbye, watching her exit the shop. She was still facing the door when Giles walked up behind her. "Willow." His voice was soft but intense.

Willow turned around rapidly, her hands instinctively moving to cover her backside. After a second, she made herself put her hands back by her sides. Very smooth, Rosenberg, she scolded herself. This is already going so well. Willow's cheeks reddened. Feeling the heat come into her face, she became even more self-conscious and started growing angry with herself for overreacting and embarrassing herself. Tears began to swim in her eyes.

Giles looked away, ashamed for making Willow upset already and wanting to allow Willow a moment to collect herself.

"Buffy asked us to work on researching this necromancer demon some more tonight while she's on patrol," he told her. "She wants to postpone our cemetery recon plan until she has more information on how to defeat him. She got a bit of background from that jittery bartender, which should give us somewhere to start."

Giles swallowed, then looked back to Willow, meeting her eyes. "I tried to tell her that just one of us would be more than capable of completing the research task, but she firmly insisted that we work together." He paused. "She said we make a good team."

Both Willow and Giles read into the unintended subtext of that comment but said nothing. Willow gave a curt nod, more to herself than to Giles, then brushed past Giles to gather the books they'd likely need to reference.

Giles stood rooted to the spot, wondering how he was going to be able to work with Willow tonight, much less continue to be friends and allies. He decided to begin with a peace offering.

"Chinese or Italian?"

Willow was relieved that Giles mentioned dinner. She'd barely eaten all day, and doing research on an empty stomach was always a terrible idea. She also recognized that Giles was reaching out to her in his reserved way. She smiled.

"Chinese sounds amazing."

Giles beamed – at least, as much as he ever did. He grabbed his keys. "Back in fifteen. Extra duck sauce?"

"You bet," Willow agreed gamely.

With the store to herself and her anxiety easing up a tad, Willow had an idea. She grabbed a deck of tarot cards from a nearby display and placed them loose on the table in front of her. She closed her eyes and practiced her breathing, then opened her eyes again and focused on the cards.

Gingerly, she reached forward with her right hand, willing the top few cards to move. To her delight, they flew through the air readily, obeying her commands without difficulty. Holding a few cards in place, Willow reached out with her left hand and drew the next several cards off the top of the deck. Keeping her breathing even, she willed the cards to arrange themselves into a structure, building a house of cards several storeys high. The ease with which the cards glided through the air and rested on the structure stunned her, but she tried not to let her surprise ruin her concentration. Her fingers plucked and wiggled in the air as if she were conducting a delicate symphony. In only a few minutes, she completed the tower, the 78 cards forming a four-foot-high structure.

She excitedly clapped her hands. This was the only time in months that she had been successful in getting a bit of magic right on the first try. She glanced around the shop to see what else she could try. Next to the front door, a large candle on display seemed like a fitting next test. Willow smirked, then cleared her expression and did her breathing exercises again. Feeling her confidence building, she reached out with both hands and willed the candle to move. It was enormous, probably ten pounds of wax, but it glided off the table and floated out in front of the door to the shop.

Willow played with the candle, twirling it and making it dance in the air. Suddenly, the door opened and Giles came back in with food in tow. Willow let out a small "eep!" and, in that moment, her concentration was broken long enough to drop the candle. Giles, his reflexes thankfully still sharp, caught the candle in front of him one-handed and carefully replaced it on the display table.

"Sorry, Giles! I wasn't going to break it, honest. I just was feeling really good about my magic and I wanted to see if I could do it."

Giles brought the bag of food over to the counter, the delightful scent of MSG wafting along with it. He then clicked on the electric kettle to make them some tea with dinner. As soon as his hands were free, he removed his glasses and cleaned them with gusto. "It's quite alright, Willow. I'm glad that you're practicing. Though perhaps I'd prefer you chose something other than an $80 Andean prayer candle." Giles resettled his glasses back on his face, then cocked his head in surprise when he saw the house of cards on the table. "Did you do that? With magic?"

Willow wasn't sure whether to display pride or humility, so she settled for a neutral response. "I did."

Giles slowly circumnavigated the table, assessing the structure. Temporarily forgetting the tension between him and Willow, Giles wore an expression of awe on his face, stunned that Willow had gone from barely lifting a single match to constructing this tower in just a one-day period.

Willow found Giles' astonishment endearing. She still had no idea how to feel about last night, but Giles looked pretty darn cute right now. She smiled affectionately, then turned to retrieve dinner from the bag Giles had obtained. Grabbing a paper plate from the bag, she rifled through the various containers.

"Willow," Giles called, "I suspect we might need this table for dinner. Do you think you could see fit to deconstruct the eighth world wonder?"

Fully involved in the acquisition of egg rolls, Willow flicked her hand back towards the table and willed the cards back into a single stack. The house became a deck, then slid back into its box.

Giles took off his glasses again, a gesture of wonder rather than irritation. Willow turned around with her plate of food, then caught Giles' expression. "What?"

Giles was too stunned to speak for a moment. Then, incredulous, he asked, "Don't you think it's remarkable how far you've come in just the last day?"

Willow's eyebrows arched as she realized how little effort she had put into something that had seemed impossible just the day before. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but she was pleased. Bemused, she looked at Giles and gave him a mirthful shrug, then sat down at the table and began to dig in. Hunger came before serious magic talk.

Giles shook his head as if to clear it, then assembled his own plate of food and poured them both cups of tea. He brought everything over to the table and sat down across from the witch. They pair ate in silence, though not an uncomfortable one. Each was absorbed in their own thoughts. Both wondered about the possible connection between last night's events and Willow's drastically improved control of magic today. Giles dared not hope that there was a causative link.

Willow realized that she was going to have to say something, otherwise this research session would be both awkward and unproductive. "Thanks for bringing over my stuff," she offered, startling the ex-librarian out of his reverie. Giles nodded but said nothing. Willow pushed on. "Since last night, all I've wanted to do was talk through what happened and figure out how I feel about it."

She paused, and Giles nodded to encourage her to continue.

"But the problem is that the person I would want to talk to is you."

Giles smiled benevolently. He could understand her problem.

"I'm definitely not going to talk to Buffy or Xander about this, and I haven't had my first appointment with my new stateside therapist, so you're it."

"Willow," Giles replied, "I know that I'm hardly a neutral party, but you can still talk to me. I hope you will. I feel awful about how things ended last night. We'll have to talk through it if we're to remain friends."

"Well, first," Willow started, "I want you to know that last night really freaked me out. I mean, it's not every day that your former librarian says he wants to hit you to make you feel better."

Giles winced slightly, more about being referred to as Willow's "former librarian" than anything else. In that moment, he felt so distant from her. With an effort, he smoothed out his expression and said, "Yes, I can imagine that was…unexpected."

Willow continued, "And then there was the thing where you wanted me to…when you ordered me to…" Willow swallowed. "That was a lot to process."

More than anything else, Giles wanted to reach across the table and take Willow's hand, but he knew he shouldn't. He took a breath, then said, "I'm sorry. Truly, Willow."

"Hey, this is me sharing my feelings time, not you apologizing time," Willow chided Giles. "Though we can definitely schedule that for later," she added, a hint of a threat in her voice.

Giles held up his hands to show his surrender, a hint of a smile on his face. "My apologies, Miss Rosenberg. Please continue."

"Thank you," Willow replied, trying to seem stern. She took a moment to determine where she had left off. "So, first I was freaked out at your suggestion, and then I got super freaked out when you…took it further. And that was like…way further. But the hardest part has been figuring out how I feel about it now. Because I don't think I hated it. I don't even think I disliked it. So now I have to work out if I actually liked it, and I don't know if I want to like it." Willow took a moment to collect herself after her breathless speech.

Giles did his best to keep a neutral expression on his face, but inside, his mind was racing. He kept waiting for Willow to get to the part where she hated him, where she was disgusted, where she couldn't be around him anymore. But she wasn't saying any of those things.

"And the craziest part," Willow continued, agitation creeping into her voice, "is that it might have actually worked! You saw what I could do just now. What if I can do magic with more control after you…if we…when that happens?"

Giles wasn't sure if this question was rhetorical. He kept his eyes on her, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. She looked like she was waiting for him.

"I don't know, Willow," Giles quietly replied. "Whatever happens now will be entirely at your behest."

"Well I don't know what my behest is!" Willow cried.

"You don't have to know, Willow."

She sunk into her seat, looking dejected.

Giles hoped a change of subject could take Willow's mind off of their troubles. "Did I tell you that Buffy thinks she has a name to match our necromancer friend?"

Willow arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

And just like that, their painful debrief was over and their research session had begun.