It had been over a week since Giles and Willow had last spoken, and Willow was getting tired of radio silence. Her texts went unanswered, and although she was now far less confident in the chance for reconciliation, she at least hoped for closure. She knew he wouldn't want to talk to her, but even so, Willow found herself outside of Giles' house on Friday afternoon, ringing his doorbell.
After seeing the curtain move, Willow heard Giles call from within: "Go away."
"No," she called.
"Willow, I don't want to see you."
The words stung, but Willow clenched her fists and banged on the door. "I'm not leaving, Giles. I need to talk to you."
"Keep your voice down. I have neighbors, you know."
"Then let me in and I won't have to shout!"
There was no response. "I slept with Spike!"
As if that had been the mystical password, the door swung open. She couldn't see Giles, but Willow walked through the doorway and into the darkened room. The curtains were all closed and the lights were off.
Behind her, the door slammed shut. Giles was standing against the wall next to the door. "First you text me ceaselessly despite my very clear disinterest, and now you've come to my house shouting nonsense, trying to provoke me?"
"It's not nonsense, Giles. Spike and I slept together."
Wild jealousy and anger flared up inside Giles, but he quickly pushed those feelings aside. He was trying to prove his lack of affection for the girl, and that reaction would do just the opposite. He swallowed hard, then tried to affect a cool demeanor. "Well, that's your right, I suppose."
Willow was dumbfounded by Giles' response. Had he really been lying when he confessed his feelings to her in the magic shop? Did he really not care?
"Giles, you're being ridiculous. You can't just avoid me forever."
"Actually, I think I can. It was going rather well up until today."
Willow gestured around her. "You call this 'going well'? You're brooding in your cave, refusing to face the world, and this is 'going well'?"
"Don't forget that I'm drinking, too," Giles responded spitefully, taking a sip from his glass of scotch. He had hardly been sober since Xander's visit a few days prior. He may have been shaken out of his preferred state of detachment, but alcohol was a surprisingly suitable substitute.
Willow threw her hands up in helplessness. "Giles, you can't live like this."
"Can too," he retorted childishly.
Willow shook her head. "Are you seriously not going to say anything about me sleeping with Spike? That doesn't bother you at all?"
Giles shrugged, doing his best impression of an indifferent person. "We're not dating. If you want to be a slag, nothing's stopping you." Giles hated himself for speaking like that to Willow, but the words came out before he could stop himself.
"You're such an asshole," Willow rejoined. She crossed her arms across her chest. Maybe it was a mistake to come here, she thought.
"Cheers to that," Giles said, raising his glass, then downing the rest of its contents.
"I can't believe I spent so much time nurturing my feelings for you and wishing that you loved me. I trusted you. I respected you."
Giles rolled his eyes and plopped down sloppily on the sofa. "God, you sound like Xander."
Willow walked over to Giles and crouched down, looking up at him. He refused to meet her gaze.
"Tell me," Willow commanded. "Tell me you don't love me."
Giles said nothing, his eyes still averted.
Willow stood up, storming over towards the door. She turned back toward Giles and said, "At least Spike could bear to look in my eyes after he fucked me."
Giles let out a guttural howl, throwing his empty glass across the room and shattering it against the wall. His chest heaving, he curled his hands into fists, staring down at the floor.
Stunned by his dramatic reaction, Willow stood rooted to the spot for a moment before approaching the Watcher.
"Giles," she said, reaching out a tentative hand, her fingers grazing his arm.
"Don't touch me!" he roared. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
Willow recoiled. She had hoped to spur Giles to get angry enough to talk with her, but she hadn't expected this. She had been a fool.
"Giles, I'm sorry," Willow pleaded. "I just wanted you to talk to me. I needed to know if you cared about me." She tried to hold back her tears, but it was futile.
Giles inhaled sharply, lifting his head up and wiping his face. Sobriety washed over him in an instant and the tension went out of his shoulders. "Well, you needn't worry about that." He carefully turned towards the kitchen and retrieved a dust pan. His movements were slow and controlled, a stark contrast to just moments earlier. He cleaned up the broken glass without glancing at Willow once.
After he disposed of the shards, Willow approached him, staring up into his face. "Please, Giles," she begged. "Please just look at me."
He did, and she immediately regretted asking him to. The look of rage, disappointment, and disgust cut her to the quick.
"Get out," he whispered.
"Giles – "
"I do not like to repeat myself." His voice was barely there.
Willow had to use all her will just to get one foot to move in front of the other. Her legs made of lead, she walked to the entryway.
She stood at the door, her hand on the knob. Without turning, she uttered, "If you think you can make me stop loving you, you're wrong. Even if you don't love me, even if you hate me, even if you never speak to me again, I'll still love you." She walked out and pulled the door closed. She leaned back against it, sliding down the door until she sat on Giles' top step. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wept in silence.
Giles walked slowly over to the door, leaning on it with his forearm and pressing his other palm into the wood. He rested his forehead on his arm and breathed deeply, his face freshly wet with tears.
After a few moments, Giles picked his head up and walked across the room into the kitchen. He filled a glass with water and shook a pain pill from the bottle on the table. Sighing heavily, he popped the pill in his mouth and downed the glass of water.
Outside, Willow slowly picked herself up, brushing the dirt from her pants. She wiped her face on her jacket sleeve, then set her head high and walked away. From the window, Giles watched her go.
