Chapter 5

Smiles seemed to follow the exuberant young woman as she tripped down the sidewalk. Her own smile was as bright as her emerald eyes. Willow had been in Oxford for a full month now. A month and she'd managed not to use magic. A month of laughter, tears and such heartfelt support that she'd managed to go forward with her life.

Today she finally had her appointment with the Don at Magdalen: Willow had seen the other Dons at several of the colleges already. The colleges were all attractive, but, she admitted to herself, Magdalen held a draw for her. A draw she couldn't explain, but she could feel it. She'd felt it when Giles had gotten tickets and taken her to the top of Magdalen Tower. When he'd packed a lunch and taken her to see the famous deer. When he'd shown her the long avenue of statuary that juniors of the college hung umbrellas on. He'd explained that it was a traditional prank that had a long history.

She giggled slightly when she remembered the photo of Giles they had found so long ago. A rebel in tattered blue jeans and a leather coat. She just couldn't picture him, in jeans and a junior's robes running down the row of statues hanging opened umbrellas on them. She figured that if Ripper had hung anything on the statues, it was nothing as innocuous as umbrellas.

There, that was New Hall, she had to be there. She entered the foyer of the building, searching for someone to direct her to the Don's rooms. Ah ha, there.

"Excuse me, can you direct me to Classical Studies, please?"

"Sure, up the stairs, second door to the right."

"Thank you." The redhead hurried up the stairs, it wouldn't do to be late. Giles had pulled strings to get the interview so quickly.

Willow spotted the appropriate door, knocked softly and waited for the gruff, `Enter.' She entered the untidy room - not unclean, just cluttered - and offered her hand to the tall, graying man.

"I'm Willow Rosenburg, we have an appointment."

"Yes of course, Miss Rosenburg, please have a seat. I've gone over your records and transcripts. Your work is excellent. Though, I have to wonder why you are interested in reading classics when you seem to have a decidedly technological bent."

"Well Mr. ... er, Don ... um, sir, what am I supposed to call you?"

"Mr. Grey will do." He smiled warmly at the nervous, young woman before him. "Although, I must confess, the juniors have somewhat more colourful ways of addressing me. Though, they don't think I know."

"Mr. Grey, I don't think the two fields of study are mutually exclusive. Computer technology, the internet could bring classic literature and mythos into the lives of everyday people all over the world. That is one of my goals."

Several cups of tea later, Willow strolled up the sidewalk. Things had gone swimmingly. Oh, wow, she was thinking in British, just how cool was that? She knew that she'd had a great interview. She was ecstatic. The argument over bringing classics to everyone who owned a computer had been fast and furious, but she'd held her own. Heck, she'd even won points for her side. Before it was over, Mr. Grey had said she'd make a fine addition to Magdalen.

She was still grinning as she ducked into Blackwells, the large booksellers. Giles had raved over the rare texts they had tucked away. If she looked hard enough she might find something special for him. Goddess knows, he deserves something nice for putting up with me this past month. This day just keeps getting better.

An hour and a half later Willow exited the store, a flat package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string tucked underneath her arm. The large carrier held in her left hand was strictly for her. Though if pressed, she might be willing to share with Giles.

She froze in her tracks, her attention on the dress in the window. It wasn't what everyone thought of as Willowy, well unless you considered that long ago All Hallows Eve. It was as far from Willowy as it was possible to get. She loved it on sight. It was black, tight, short, and leather. It was also on sale for a really good price. She thought only of her parents credit card as she pulled the door open.

'Okay, so maybe I got just a little carried away. But I didn't have anything that went with it.' Willow shouldered the garment bag, as well as the large sack containing shoes, stockings and lacy black underthings. 'Next time, I bring a packmule. Or a Giles. A Giles would come in very handy right now.'

"Hello gorgeous, what's a pretty girl like you doing out alone? Need a hand with those bags?" The boy, and he was a boy, couldn't have been more than 17. He was eyeing her like she was a sweet in a shop window.

"I'm alone cause I want to be, and I've got it. Thank you, but no thank you." She didn't like the looks of the young man, he had a cold look in his eyes that reminded her of the swimming team, during the championship season. A look that said, I own everything and everyone, if I so choose. She juggled her load and kept walking.

He was following her, she could feel him behind her. His footsteps echoed behind her. His breath was audible. She wished he would just go away. If it comes down to it, I can drop him. I've staked vampires, a pimply adolescent tough shouldn't be that big of a deal. She was so busy with her plan of attack, she never noticed that there was someone right in front of her. A startled gasp later she looked up from the pavement and noted that it was a very attractive someone. The woman had long black hair and sea green eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you." She glanced behind her, knowing her advantage was gone. He was still there. She couldn't drop packages and get her weight behind the bag of books from the ground.

"Oh," She shook herself slightly. "It's not a problem. I can see where you might have been distracted." The Englishwoman's eyes never left the boy standing on the other side of Willow. "Well, my lad, it looks like you've been at it again. Why don't you clear off and leave the lady alone. Or would you like to deal with me?"

"You're not that tough, you bleeding dyke."

"I'm tough enough to have taken you down once before. So why don't you just leave?" Her fists were clenched, but as the young tough left, they relaxed into graceful hands. One of those hands was extended to Willow. Once Willow was on her feet, she helped the redhead collect the dropped packages.

"Hello, I'm Maude. Are you alright?"

"Hi, I'm Willow and I'm dandy, thank you. And thank you for running him off. I wasn't in the right position to drop him with one of my bags."

"Oh, you're American. On holiday are you?"

"No, I just moved here. I'm going to school here."

"Well welcome to Oxford. You'll have to excuse the idiots. Do you have family here?"

"I guess everwhere has jerks like that."

A few minutes later Willow was tripping down the street, feet barely touching the ground as she thought about her new friend. She was only a few blocks from home and she couldn't wait to tell Giles about her wonderful day.

A large drop of water plopped onto Willow's nose. She looked up at the sky, just in time for the deluge to hit her square in the face. The rain was cold, miserably so. It only took moments for the redhead to resemble a drowned rat. She sped her pace, trying to get home before she got too much wetter.

Finally, there was the last corner, nearly there. Willow shivered as she glanced quickly to her left, than her right. All clear, she hurried to get across the street. She heard a blaring horn just as she felt someone grab her from behind and throw her back to the curb. Her knee stung as she landed on it, ripping her jeans and her skin.

She looked up at the policeman, no, 'bobby' she reminded herself. "Thank you, I'm sorry for the trouble."

"Miss, we really encourage Americans visiting us to stay alive. Please remember to look right and then left. We'd like to keep you from going home in a coffin."

Willow blushed bright red. "Of course, I'm sorry. Thank you very much." She gathered her somewhat sodden packages and very carefully checked traffic again. Just as she stepped up on the curb a car raced past, splashing her. She groaned, "Just what I needed. And it was such a good day."

She entered the building, nodding gratefully to the older gentleman who held the door for her. Soon, very soon she would be warm and dry and ... and ... finally, there was the door. She tried to get her key out of her pocket, but she just had so much. Her hands were full, she was squelching she was so waterlogged. Goddess, I just want to get inside. One motion of her finger, made without thought had the door to the flat swinging open.

It halted with a fleshy thud and rebounded, before being stopped. Giles appeared, one hand clutching his nose, which was seeping blood.

"Willow, what have you done?"

Chapter 6

The raindrops fell, pattering into the grey surface of the Isis. `At least nature agrees with me right now. I don't deserve sunny weather. Face it, Willow, you did this; no one else used magic. Nobody threw a door into Giles' face and no one else broke her promise.

The tiny, redhead heaved a giant sized sigh, her hands clenched tightly onto the rail of the bridge. The vibrant green eyes saw nothing of the beauty that surrounded her, only the pain that had clouded her mentor's eyes. Eyes that were disfigured by the horribly swollen nose, the one she had broken.

He had been so good to her from the moment that she'd arrived in England. He'd been supportive, kind and so understanding, then she'd thrown it all in his face with one careless action. `Quite literally!' the near manic voice of her conscience cackled. She'd run away from him; run from the chaos she'd caused. `I'm a bad Willow. There's no way I can justify this, I'm a bad, bad Willow, no matter what Giles said.'

`Willow, this is a minor problem; it can be dealt with. You can't expect to do something so difficult without setbacks.' His eyes had been so compassionate, filled with love and understanding when he'd looked at her. How could she have been so careless? She loved him and she'd betrayed him.

The rain poured down over the girl, hiding the tears she wept. She turned her delicate face to the crying sky in complete accord with the weather. She'd failed to control herself and in failing, she'd harmed on the only person in England she loved. Goddess knew she'd failed everyone else. Buffy, Xander, Dawn, she'd hurt them all so much. `I broke Dawn's arm; I guess it must have been Giles's turn to get broken.' She could have dealt with failing herself, but to fail Giles - that was more than she could take. A rumble of thunder seemed to agree with her. Even nature knew she'd made a mess of everything.

`Okay, think Willow, you've made it impossible to stay here; Goddess knows you can never face Giles again. Leaving Sunnydale didn't work; it just gave you someone new to hurt. What will it take, where can you go? Los Angeles, no there are people you care about there. Angel, Cordy and Wesley, well maybe not Wesley, but Angel and Cordy,' she thought. `There must be someplace that the people you love will be safe from you.'

##
Earlier at Giles' flat

Giles reached for the heavy door. It'd started raining heavily a few minutes ago and Willow was still out. She'd had a full day planned and he was worried about her. It wouldn't take more than a few minutes to find her and bring her home. He felt a sudden shock, a tiny jolt of magic as the door swung towards him, hitting him squarely in the nose, breaking it.

"Willow, what have you done?"

He realised immediately what he'd said, but it was too late. The words were spoken and could never be taken back. His heart broke just a little bit. Willow would agonize over this tiny loss of control, and he knew that. He also knew there was nothing she could have done to prevent it. She was innately magic. The power flowed from her and always would. She would learn to handle it in time, but that time was yet to come. For the moment, he had to get her through the guilt. And, he admitted to himself, the overwhelming self-pity. His words could only make it worse and there was nothing he could do, but try to make her understand. Her power was such that total containment wasn't possible. She was going to have slips and this was such a minor one. However, she'd only given him the chance to speak a few words before she'd run from his flat in tears. He'd wanted to follow her immediately, but he had to take precious minutes to staunch the flow of blood from his nose.

##


Present

He looked at the girl who'd come to mean so much to him over the years. She stood on the bridge, her hands clenched tightly. Her face was exposed to the sky, rain dripping down her face, mingling with her tears. Water ran from her dark red hair, rivulets to match the tears flowing down her cheeks.

`How can I help her? I knew this was going to happen eventually, but how to make her understand? There was the dilemma. He approached her carefully, taking care not to startle her. She needed his love and support now more than ever. He cleared his throat, quietly.

"Willow," his voice trailed into silence leaving only the sound of the rain softly splashing into the river.

She looked around, "Hello Giles. Why are you here?"

"Because you are; because I need to be here for you. We hadn't really discussed it, but something like this was inevitable. It had to happen. It happened to me when I was getting away from magic and I never had the power that you possess. I'm only surprised it hasn't happened before. Magic is such a part of who you are; it permeates your very being. That sort of power can't be turned off once you are aware of it. It can only be controlled and that is what we're working for." The tall, greying man pulled out his handkerchief in a futile attempt to clean his glasses. He shook his head and thrust the stained handkerchief back into his pocket as Willow's startled sob made him realise what he'd done.

He quickly pulled the weeping girl into his arms. He had to minimize the spectre of the blood soaked handkerchief; push it from her mind. He smiled, relieved that she'd turned into his arms, burying her face in his tweed-covered chest. He'd held her tightly as she sobbed out her pain and frustration. Now, he had hope. Hope that she would stay and fight, not run like a frightened child.

Finally, after long minutes, Willow's sobs subsided and she shuddered; the cold rain finally breaking through her emotional distress. `Now, maybe I can get her home and try to talk some sense to her,' he thought, as the chill wind cut through his tweed clothing. He shivered slightly, remembering why he preferred California in the winter.

"Willow, let's go back to the flat, get in out of the rain. We really need to talk this through, but on a bridge in the bloody rain isn't the place to do it. I, for one, could really use a hot cup of tea."

"Oh, Giles, of course, you shouldn't be out in this. Your poor nose and … "

"Enough Willow, let's just go back to the flat so we can get dried off and warm."

"But, Giles, I need to tell you how sorry I am."

"Willow, we are both cold, wet and in dire need of warm towels, dry clothes and hot tea. Now." He took her shaking hand and led her home, as she protested her sorrow and guilt all the way.

##


Giles sat, ensconced in his armchair with Willow curled on the ottoman at his feet. Both were dry, dressed and considerably calmer. Two steaming teacups sat nearby.

"So, this `had' to happen. Why?" Willow peeked up at him, curiosity getting the better of her.

"It had to happen because there is only so much control you can use when your entire being is suffused with power. You've got enormous stores of magical energy. It has to go somewhere. You've been very successful at keeping it in check, but there will be times it will leak from you. In general, you won't be conscious of it, but there will be times, like today, when you just use it, in a small way, without thinking about it. It's as natural as sneezing and just as controllable."

"You're saying I can never be completely magic free, that it will always be there and that means I'll never be in control of it?"

"No, I'm saying that it will always be there and that you will have to learn to control it. Now that you've `slipped', we can start to work on your control." He leaned forward, tipping Willow's chin up with one strong hand. He smiled into her eyes, "I know you can do this."

Willow smiled up at him; trust in her eyes as she spoke. "I hope I can live up to your trust. I'm scared but I'll give it my best shot."

Her cheek rested in his cupped hand and the warmth of it astounded him. This he hadn't expected. The tingle he felt when he touched her. She was his student, his charge; he wasn't supposed to tingle when he touched her. All he could do was protect her, make sure she never knew.

"Giles?"

"Er … yes Willow?" He looked at her and stifled the urge to clean his glasses until they shone.

"I love you."

Chapter 7

"Ignius Incenti."

The small pile of wood, stacked neatly in the center of the clearing flared brightly in the darkening evening. The flames crackled merrily as Giles beamed proudly at the shocked witch. She stood stock still, a large umbrella open over her head. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the rain that wasn't falling. Giles couldn't prevent the smirk as he closed his own umbrella.

"Well done, Willow."

"Giles, it didn't rain, I did it!"

"Yes, you did. And you managed to keep the flames low enough that the fire brigade wasn't alerted."

The redhead lowered her umbrella slowly, a tentative smile on her lips. "That's right. It worked the way it was supposed to."

"And, Willow, your eyes kept their color. This calls for a celebration. Put the fire out and we'll go out for a meal." He smiled as she reached for the bucket beside her. It was becoming automatic for her to use non-magical means to do simple tasks, rather than resorting to magic. There had also been a marked reduction of magicks leaking from the witch. Her new control was truly remarkable.

Now if only he could manage to keep his own feelings under such good control. Occasionally- hell, frequently- his love for his charge threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted her as much as he loved her, so he walked about in a perpetual state of readiness. He'd ruthlessly shoved every pair of closely tailored trousers to the back of his closet. He was resigned to never getting another hour's wear out of them. At forty-seven he was supposed to be past feeling randy all the time. But, he laughed ruefully, someone had forgotten to tell his libido that particular rule. Well, home, cold shower, take Willow out to celebrate, then home for another cold shower before bed. He was getting resigned to the situation, though there was the benefit of the reduced heating bills.

##

Willow grasped the handle of the bucket, carefully putting out each ember of her magically created fire. How much longer could she stand to be around him? It hurt so much to love him, want him, need him like she did. The knowledge that he loved her like a daughter stung so badly. She'd tasted love three times in her life. Three times before this, she'd given her heart away, and of the three, the only one she could say she still loved was Xander, but in a different way now. She wasn't in love with him anymore. Nothing she'd ever felt before could touch the depths of the love she felt for one Rupert Giles and he, he was totally oblivious. There were times when she knew he looked at her and saw only a wayward child. She shook her head in disgust as steam rose from the remains of her fire. When would she grow the...how did Spike put it? Oh, yeah, the knackers to let him know how she felt? She could go head to head with a Goddess, but couldn't manage "I love you, Giles."

I'm just pathetic.

Giles' warm, black-velvet voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Looks like it's out. Shall we get home? I, for one, could use a shower before we head out for dinner."

"Sure, Giles." She began to collect all her tools, handed him the bucket and headed for the car. "A shower sounds great." A very cold shower, she thought as she followed him through the woods, back to the carpark.

 

 

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