WHAT DO YOU SEE?
Laura Smith



"Okay, Willow. You can do this. You're strong, independent and…well; you're other good things that you need to be. All you have to do is walk up those steps, round that bend and walk right in as if you'd been invited. Which you have. So that's all you have to do." She nodded, reinforcing her words to herself. After all, Buffy thought strange things were afoot and, when strange was going on, then Giles needed to know.

Taking a deep breath, she did as she had instructed herself, walking up the steps, rounding the bend and walking through the door into Giles' apartment.

"Rupert?"

The voice caught Willow by surprise, freezing her in the foyer. It was a woman's voice. A woman who wasn't someone that Willow knew or would allow to be with Giles. Not that Giles wasn't allowed to be with women, because he was a man, but he wasn't allowed because…well, because…

"You're not Rupert."

Willow shook her head, taking in the woman who stood in front of her. She was beautiful, shining dark skin, highlighted with a tumble of curly hair. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties and she was obviously comfortable with her body…and with Giles' wardrobe.

"No. Not Rupert. Er, Giles. I'm not Giles. Not at all."

The woman smiled. "You must be Willow."

Her hackles rose. Something in the tone of the woman's voice set her nerves on edge. "Why *must* I be Willow?" She asked archly.

"Rupert mentioned a redhead."

A redhead. Willow tried not to think about the sinking sensation that seemed to be eating its way through her stomach like acid. Just a redhead. Not a friend, a confidante, a…just a redhead. "Right. Well, when you see…Rupert, would you tell him that I…that Willow stopped by." She walked backwards, about to leave when Giles walked out of the hallway off the kitchen.

Willow's heart stopped beating then seemed to climb up her throat and peek out so it could get a look at the sight in front of her as well. Giles was standing there looking…delicious. He was wearing what appeared to be silk pajama bottoms and a heavy lounging robe. Willow struggled to swallow, needing to breathe again.

"Hello Willow." He reached over to the counter and picked up a glass as the woman moved into his arms. Taking a swallow, he lazily wrapped his arm around her. "What brings you here?"

"There…there's…I just wanted to say hi. Let you know how things were going. Since we haven't been by to see you for a while and…obviously there's some things…I really need to go."

"Ripper, love, I'm afraid she's a bit embarrassed."

"Right," he nodded his understanding. "Willow, you'll have to forgive my manners. This is Olivia. An old friend, just stopping through town."

"And you'll have to excuse me while I go slip into something less comfortable." She left the room and Giles moved a step closer to Willow.

"Is everything all right, Willow?"

"All right? Fine. Fine. Everything is fine." She nodded, her eyes wild. "I mean, you're a gentleman of leisure and they have lives that have nothing to do with high school…or even post high school…college. College students. They don't have to answer to them at all, not even when there's evil. Or maybe evil. Or things that Buffy might not be able to handle. But I need to go, because I have class." She started to turn and run, but his hand settled gently on her shoulder.

"Willow?" His voice was whisper soft and seductively smooth. "You're as nervous as a cat." Moving his hand over her shoulder and down her arm, he enveloped her hand in his own. "Come and sit. Tell me what's wrong."

She sat quietly for a long time, the presence of the other woman in the apartment filling her with agitation. It seemed to blaze out at her from all sides, making it hard to think. "I didn't…I didn't know you had a…a girlfriend."

He chuckled softly, suddenly seeming to be aware of her tremulous emotion. "I don't have a girlfriend, Willow. Olivia is an old friend from London. She's headed to LA for a seminar and thought she'd stop in. I'm not the sort of man to turn an old friend out into the cold, dark Sunnydale streets."

"But she was…and she…."

"I'm not a saint, Willow. Not by any stretch of the imagination." He hooked a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to his. "But tell me this, little one, why is it so inconceivable that I might be having sex when you so clearly are?"

Feeling the blush cover her face, burning the tips of her ears and scorching her neck, Willow pulled her face away, hiding it from his piercing eyes. "It's not inconceivable…it's just so…so…"

"Not Giles?"

She nodded, embarrassed. "I didn't expect it but," she shrugged. "But I can understand it. I mean, look at you."

He chuckled again, this time with humor. "What do you see? When you look at me?"

Finally turning back to face him, Willow's green eyes were hot. "Sometimes…sometimes, you're just Giles. But there are other times…sort of like now, where I see the…I see Ripper. Or even Rupert. I see what draws people like Ethan and Joyce and Olivia to you, like moths to a flame. I see why Faith seemed so intent on flirting with you. I can see why Wesley was so threatened."

"Why is that?" The words were more of a purr than an articulated sentence, sending a thrill of excitement up Willow's spine.

"Because underneath all that tweed, all that Britishness, all the staunch demeanor, you're hungry. For knowledge, for information, for…for life. People think you give up your life when you're a Watcher, but you didn't. You took what you were given and you grabbed it and you used it. You managed to find a life where they didn't want you to have one. You…you inspire people, Giles. You inspire me. " She reached out with a trembling hand, completely unsure of herself. Her fingertips brushed his lips and she marveled as he closed his eyes and seemed to shudder. "Your hunger inspires me."

"What if I were to tell you that I'm still hungry?"

His voice was deeper, huskier. She recognized the undercurrent of need behind it, echoing the same need in her own voice. "What are you hungry for?"

He was about to answer when Olivia's voice cut through the thick tension. "Ripper? Love? Have you seen my bag?"

Willow sank back into the cushions, cursing the lost moment and the woman just down the hall. Although, if she were logical about it all, nothing could have happened with Olivia in the next room. But he'd wanted her. It had been there in his half-closed eyes, in his harsh breathing, in the throbbing pulse at the base of his neck. He'd wanted her.

And she'd wanted him.

"I should go. Buffy…well, there's maybe bad things. Buffy wanted you to know." She hurried to her feet and took a step back. "I'll see you later?"

He nodded, his eyes on her chest as she continued to struggle with her erratic breathing. "Count on it."

She smiled and headed for the door. She was about to open it when he stopped her, the hard pressure of his hand on her arm holding her still. Looking up, she couldn't help but smile in anticipation as he grinned down at her, his eyes molten. He leaned forward, pressing a hard kiss to her lips, holding her tightly in his hands before breaking away from her just as abruptly.

He let her go, licking his lips as he headed toward the hall and back to Olivia. Willow pressed a hand to her lips, feeling the tenderness of the abused flesh. They felt full and bruised from the kiss, equal parts passion, frustration and need.

She watched Giles' back until he rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. She shut the door quietly behind her as she left, wondering when it would be safe to return. Something told her Olivia was soon to be history once more.

 

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