Title: Just A Matter Of Time
Author: Lostgirl
Paring: Giles/Willow
Rating: 12
Feedback: lostgirlslair @ yahoo.com
Spoilers: Set during 'Something Blue' (BTVS season 4), AU.
Summary: Willow's 'will-be-done' spell could have had very different consequences.
Disclaimer: All things BTVS (and ATS) belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities.
Big thanks to Kyrieane for the lovely beta!

This was written for the Giles/Willow Ficathon.


Sighing, Willow glanced at the door. She didn't really want a visitor, not now, but then if she pretended not to be there and it was Xander or somebody they'd get all annoyed at her not 'perking up'.

"Come in."

She was surprised to see Giles enter, shutting the door behind him. Glancing around to make sure everything...girlie was out of sight, she tried to smile.

"Giles, what are you doing here?"

"I'm...a bit concerned about you, actually," he said, taking an awkward seat on her desk chair, looking at her with those damn 'talk to me so I can help' eyes. She hated that. Well, no, she didn't, but that was kinda why she did, which... Shaking her head, a thought occurred.

"Did Buffy tell you about the beer, 'cause..."

"Ah, Buffy didn't tell me anything..."

Willow was sure she was imagining the amusement in his voice and there was no way Giles was ducking his head to cover a smile.

"Oh, well...forget the beer part, then." Several thoughts about why he might be there leapt to mind, but Willow swatted them all away. It was just Oz's leaving, she assured herself. She was just feeling all lonely and...okay, so she knew that wasn't the truth. Things with Giles had been better since Oz, though, and now, well...now that she knew even Oz couldn't...

"Happily. I came because we had an appointment the other day..."

"Oh..." of course. He just wanted to talk about the spell. Mentally slapping herself, Willow tried to focus, "Right, right... The truth spell."

"Yes, um...Willow..." she could hear the lecturing tone in Giles' voice and sighed. Didn't anyone understand? Didn't anyone get how hard it was to know that someone you'd worked so hard to...to care about had just turned their back on you? "I know that you're going through a very difficult time...but, shirking your responsibilities--"

"But...I didn't , shirk. I...did the research, and I picked up the motherwort, I just forgot the doing the spell part." Willow flinched a little on the inside.

"Well, that isn't like you at all." Giles' tone was trying to be soothing, but Willow heard the worry there and it kinda felt nice. She knew Giles cared, in that 'oh, Willow's just a kid and needs guidance' kinda way, but it was nice to hear it anyway.

"I know. I-I've been off," she confided, nervous about telling him, but...if anyone would understand, and...well, she liked the idea of talking with Giles like equals. Sometimes he did that and it always made her feel good when he wasn't telling her she wasn't ready, but was talking to her instead. "I-I even tried to do a spell last night. To have my will done? I was hoping it would make me feel better, but it just went ka-blooey."

"A spell?" Giles raised his eyebrow at that and Willow shook her head, already knowing this wasn't going to be 'we're both people interested in magic' time, but more like 'Willow, you know how careful you have to be' time. "I don't think it's wise for you to be doing that alone right now. Your energy's too unfocused."

"Well, that's not true," Willow snapped, annoyed that he was going to treat her like a child again. "I said I was off, not incompetent."

"I only meant that you're grieving and it might be wise if you took a break from doing spells without supervision."

She could hear a lecture coming, which only made her angrier. "So I get punished ‘cause I'm in pain?"

"It's not punishment. I'm only saying this because I--"

"Oh, you care. Yeah. Everybody cares. Nobody wants to be inconvenienced. You all want me to take the time and go through the pain, as long as you don't have to hear about it anymore!" Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, Willow stood up, needing to do something. Why couldn't he understand? If he had a problem with her using magic, why couldn't he just talk to her instead of getting all 'father-figurey'? She hated that.

"No, that's not fair," he began, but she wasn't in the mood to listen. Turning to him, she put her hands on her hips.

"Isn't it? ‘Cause I'm doing the best I can and it doesn't seem to be enough for you guys."

"And I see how you could feel that way, I do--"

And that was about all she could take. He should see. He should understand, but he didn't and nothing she could do would ever make him get it .

"No, you don't. You say that you do, but--you should know! I mean, you did magic when you were young. There had to be a time you felt like everything had been torn in two. I so wish I'd have known you then because--"

Willow wobbled for a moment, lightheaded. Putting her hand out, she stumbled, closing her eyes against wave after wave of dizziness. There were sounds all around her, rising and falling, making her nauseous and sending her too her knees.

"Giles?" She croaked out that one word, fear overwhelming her as the world went black.

****

"Miss? Miss? Are you all right?"

She was leaning against someone. Disoriented, Willow opened her eyes, blinking when she found herself kneeling in what looked like a bookstore.

"Oh...that's just not of the good," she murmured. Someone was kneeling beside her. There was a large, warm hand resting on her back and another on her arm. Gulping against the lump in her throat and the nausea that rose gain, she turned. "Holy Moly," she breathed, blinking up at the man who was letting her lean her weight against him.

It was Giles.

It wasn't Giles. Giles was older. Giles was...in her dorm room, where she'd been, just a few...

"Miss? Are you feeling all right? You stumbled and, ah, I worried that you'd hurt yourself." Apparently seeing her confusion, the man--the 'not-Giles-no-matter-how-much-he-looked-and-sounded-like-him' man, stood, bring her with him. "Should I call someone?"

"Uh, I...uh. What, uh, ow." Willow put a hand to her head, trying to ward off the headache and dizziness, trying to find words better than, 'what in the name of all that's good and chocolaty?'

"Here. You should sit." The man guided her to a comfy looking bank of armchairs and Willow let herself be led, slumping into one of them. Other people in the small bookstore were staring, but he didn't even seem to notice. Instead, he sat in the chair next to her, studying her with a worried frown.

"Uh, I'm Willow," she finally said, unnerved by the staring.

"Rupert Giles--" he responded with a small smile. The smiled faded the instant Willow jumped out of the chair, eyes round, and shook her head.

"You are not!" she insisted. "Huh-uh. Giles is older, and he's, uh--" taking in the man's casual dress, she wave a hand at him, "--stuffier, and he's, uh, in my dorm room and...oh, god he's gonna be so pissed. What did I do? Did I do this? Oh! Oh! I wished, I wished. Bad Willow."

Now it was the man's turn to stare, his eyebrows raised. "I, ah, assure you, miss, I am Rupert Giles. I...uh, I have my identification if that would--"

"What year is this?" she asked, ignoring the looks she was receiving from the other customers who were slowly edging away.

"Ah, it's-it's 1979 and--"

Another wave of dizziness hit her and Willow stumbled, hand flying to her head. "I should sit," she said, dropping into her chair once again.

"Yes, I rather think you should," the man commented, narrowing his eyes at her. "Do you, ah, need for me to-to call someone?"

"Well," Willow huffed, staring at the floor. "I'd say call my friends, but, uh, not born yet, not born yet, and...uh, you. So, I'm screwed."

"I'm sorry, have, uh...have we met?" He gave her that patented 'I think you might be nuts, but there's always a chance you're just confused, so I'm not going to make any judgments yet' look and Willow whimpered. Only Giles could do that look, or any of the tons of others that were entire sentences unto themselves.

"Well, not...not yet," she murmured, thunking her head into her hands.

"Uh," The man--god, Giles?--shifted uncomfortably and Willow sighed, looking up.

"You are so not gonna believe me, but..." Willow sighed. "I'm from the future, and I know you there, and you were kinda just telling me I was too unfocused to do magic right now, 'cause my boyfriend ran off over that skanky werewolf, and I didn't believe you, and I kinda said that I wished I'd known you back 'then', of course then was really specified, I don't think, and...here I am."

Collapsing back into the easy chair, Willow looked over at the man...Giles, god he looked so young. Mid-twenties maybe and, wow, and...this was so not good.

"I...see. Uh, per-perhaps we should go somewhere else. Ah, do you, uh, drink coffee?"

"Yeah, but you don't want me on caffeine right now," she warned with a sigh. "Uh, but, yeah. We can-can go somewhere-walk, walk somewhere." Okay, so she was fairly sure she was right and this was Giles, her Giles, but she was too smart to get into a car with anybody she didn't know. Only she did know him, maybe...

Shaking her head, Willow followed the ma--Giles out of the bookshop, ignoring the raised eyebrows and the whispering behind hands.

He turned to her once they were outside. "There's a café, just, uh on the corner. Is that, uh, can you walk that far?"

"Yeah." Willow nodded, looking around with an opened-mouth stare. "This isn't Sunnydale...well, duh, I mean you didn't come to Sunnydale until--where?"

"London." The man gave her an odd look, but nodded for her to follow.

The café was small, with outside tables. The man left her at one of those after she'd said she'd like tea. Sighing, she watched people go by, the situation hitting her more and more as she watched.

"Here. I didn't know how you took it, so I hope that's at least palatable." Th--Giles put the tea in front of her, taking his seat across the table.

Numbly, Willow reached for the cup and took a sip. "It's, uh, it's fine," she answered, suddenly unsure what to say.

"Right, so...the future?" The-Giles raised one eyebrow in a gesture so familiar it made Willow's heartbeat speed up. The usual reaction, and she gulped more of her tea. "You'll forgive me if I'm a little...or a lot, skeptical, I'm sure."

"Oh, yeah, sure," she said quickly. "I mean this is weird even for Hellmouthy stuff and--"

"Hellmouth?" Giles' gaze snapped to her at that, his eyebrow doing that thing again.

"Uh, yeah. Sunnydale, California. It's where I'm from. It's a Hellmouth."

"And you say I'll go there one day?" She could tell he was intrigued. Giles leaned closer, intent on her words, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. Willow blinked, looking away and hoping she wasn't blushing. It was just...well, he was looking at her, like...actually looking at her and so intent and...

Okay, Will, breathe. It's okay. she told herself. It's just Giles . But he'd never been just Giles and...

"Yeah," she said, only a little breathlessly. "Cause of B-Buffy. She's the Slayer."

"Slayer." Giles sat up straight, looking at her with a new something in his eyes. "You...no, first, I need you to prove to me that you know me. I...ah, tell me something about myself."

"Oh! Okay," Willow nodded, biting her lips as she thought. "You went to Oxford, you, uh, you wanted to be fighter pilot, or-or a grocer, but your dad was a Watcher and so was your grandmother, so you kinda had to, but...uh, you did kinda rebel for a while with the whole magic and Ethan thing and then there was Eyghon and--"

"That's enough," Giles snapped, holding up his hand with a look of pain on his face.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned--"

"Shh," he said waving away her apology, though he looked away, apparently taking a moment to compose himself. "I-I believe you...I think."

"I'm really sorry, Giles--"

"Please, Rupert. I never could stand all that last name nonsense."

"Oh, uh, okay." Willow couldn't help the little smile that lifted her lips and she ducked head, taking a sip of tea, to hide it. "So, you believe me? You'll, uh, you'll help me get back?"

"You say this is all because of a wish?"

"Uh, yeah. I said 'I, the 'w' word, I'd known you back then' and...poof."

"So, you think this is the fault of some sort of...wish fulfilling demon?"

Willow nodded, looking sheepish. "Vengeance demon, probably."

Giles looked at her oddly then, tilting his head as he considered. "Why would a Vengeance demon take it upon itself to do this?"

"Uh...we, you remember what I said about the boyfriend, right?" Willow suddenly realized that she'd given something away with her theory. Why would a Vengeance demon take an interest in something she'd said about Giles? Unless, maybe he was someone involved, unless it would somehow be aggravating to Oz... There was the chance Giles would ignore it though. Right? Willow quickly told herself that, over and over as she waited for the man to respond.

"Uh, n-no. At the time I was more concerned with someone in the shop calling the police."

"Oh, right, cause I was kinda acting all 'crazy-girl-Willow', huh? Sorry, it's just...wow, I mean I'm not in my own time, which is, uh, well, weird."

"Of course," Giles smiled comfortingly, putting out a hand to pat hers. "It's, uh, completely understandable, given the situation. So, your-your boyfriend?"

"Uh," Willow ducked her head, shrugging. "He, uh, he was a werewolf and uh, there was this skanky...she wolf and uh, well, he didn't run off with her, cause...anyway, he freaked out and ran off and, uh, sent for his stuff and didn't even say anything to me and...I won't get into it."

Giles' hand was still on hers, an offer of comfort of course, but...Willow had to force herself not to stare at it, not to think about how big it was and how...

"Hmm," he said. "Well, you're obviously too good for the wanker. Now, we should begin with research."

Willow's head snapped up and she smiled, unable to control a laugh.

"That's funny?" Giles asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, I wasn't totally sure you were Giles--uh, R-Rupert, but...after that comment? Oh, yeah, you're him all right."

****

"So?" Willow asked, once they were in Giles' car. She couldn't keep her eyes off the buildings they passed, and the people were just as intriguing. This was clearly not her home, not Sunnydale, not her time. It was fascinating. "Where are we researching? Library? Bookstore? Watcher Headquarters? Oh, I've never seen Watcher HQ!"

"Uh, no," Giles had a strange smile on his face, something Willow didn't think she'd ever seen before and it wasn't as if she hadn't been looking. "There's, uh, a place. We'll turn to the books later, of course, but I think it best to get information from the, er, horses mouth...so to speak."

Willow felt one of her eyebrows raise at that. "What, uh, what do you mean?"

"Surely, the demons must congregate somewhere in Sunnydale? Some place they go to, well, relax." He shot her an amused glance, but it wasn't quite the same as the one he often gave her at home. This one was more open, more friendly and less condescending.

"Uh, yeah, Willy's place, but...if this is a bar..." Willow hesitated. She didn't want to remind him of her age. Then he'd go all 'I'm older than you so we can't be actual friends' with her. "I'm not old enough," she sighed.

"Surely, you're at least eighteen," he said with a strangely worried glance Willow didn't quite know what to make of.

"Oh, yeah, but--oh! England! Old enough here! Yay!" Willow bounced a little in her seat and then caught herself. Clearing her throat. "I mean, uh, right. I'm in England. Gotta remember that."

Giles laughed, actually laughed, and Willow had to turn and stare at him, loving the way his eyes sparkled and whole face lit up. Not to mention the funny things that deep, chuckling laugh was doing to her stomach.

Oh, bad. Bad. Danger, danger Will Rosenburg , warned the little voice in her head that she'd developed over the years since she'd met Giles.

Giles pulled into a small parking lot next to what looked like a perfectly ordinary bar. He nodded is head toward the door they should go through and then smiled at her. "You, my girl, are quite refreshing." Then he slipped out of the car, still smiling, leaving Willow to look after him a moment before clamoring out of the car herself.

'My girl', she thought with a small smile as she followed Giles into the club. And I'm refreshing!

The bar was dark, filled with people and things that probably weren't people, and, of course, the things that definitely were not people.

"Uh," Willow paused in the doorway, looking around with wide eyes. "Are you sure it's...safe, 'cause--"

"Shhh," Came Giles' voice, much closer to her ear than she'd expected. The man laid his hand on her back, urging her forward. "I wouldn't have brought you here just to let one of these blokes gobble you up."

"Right," Willow squeaked, trying hard to regain her confident, adult, persona. "So, no, er, gobbling."

There was a low chuckle from Giles and he muttered something she couldn't quite hear. Willow glanced at him, trying to figure out what he'd said, but he only smiled and pointed to a booth.

Nodding, Willow slid into it, looking around. There were demons everywhere, some of them...really gross. "Uh, you-you come here...a lot?"

Giles opened his mouth to respond, then closed it for a moment as he thought. "I used to, but...there hasn't, er, been occasion to in a while." Apparently spotting someone he knew, Giles stood, calling out what Willow guessed was a name, though she couldn't really tell. After a moment, he waved toward the table before sitting down again. "Whatever you do, don't remark on the discoloration."

Willow nodded, twisting around in her seat to see something really large and ugly coming their way. It had four eyes and four arms and a big spike coming out the top of its head. Willow turned back to Giles, looking a little dubious.

"That's, uh, a friend of yours?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yes. She's a lovely woman."

Willow blinked, looked again, and then nodded. "I'm sure she is."

"More importantly," Giles said with another small laugh, touching Willow's hand to get her attention. "She knows more Vengeance Demons than any codex will ever be able to document. She, uh, has...a thing."

Willow raised an eyebrow, taking in Giles' expression. "A thing?"

Giles raised an eyebrow back at her, smiling. "Yes, a... thing ."

"Oh! A thing. For Vengeance Demons. . . okay, I got it." Smiling a little sheepishly, she couldn't help but feel a little warm when Giles studied her a moment longer, his eyes apparently flicking down to consider her lips before he turned to his friend.

You're losing it, Will. Giles was not just looking at your lips. And he is also not now licking his lips. Nope. No tongue sliding over... Oh, god.

The language in which Giles spoke to his friend was completely unknown to Willow. She just watched as he talked to it-- uh, her --and waited to see what they'd learn. Giles chuckled at one point, gesturing to her. The demon looked to Willow and bowed its head a little and Willow made the same gesture in reply. Then Giles and the demon went back to talking; the man's forehead began to wrinkle and he sighed.

The demon made a gesture something like a shrug, it was difficult to tell with the extra arms, and walked away.

"She said it couldn't be a Vengeance Demon," Giles explained, slumping further into his booth. The waitress came by then, probably having waited until the demon woman left since she appeared to be a human. Giles looked at her inquiringly when the waitress asked what they wanted, but Willow just shrugged, unsure.

"Two beers," he said after a moment.

"Huh," Willow said, straightening up in her seat and reaching for the little menu-y thing so she'd have something to do with her hands. "I've never seen you drink beer before."

"Likely because they don't have beer where you come from," Giles replied, leaning his arms on the table edge, his eyes intent on her face.

Willow gave him a confused look, noting that their hands weren't really so far away and, if she wanted to, she could reach out and...

"They don't! That weak camel--"

"Hello, Ripper."

Willow's eyes widened at the sound of that voice. She knew that voice. She remembered it from the library after the Eyghon thing and... Oh, god. Turning, her eyes did, in fact, settle on Ethan Rayne.

"Eep!" Willow scooted into the bench, grabbing the nearest thing, which happened to be a salt shaker, and brandishing it at the man.

Ethan only raised an eyebrow at her. It took a moment for Willow to realize the man had absolutely no idea who she was. That didn't matter of course, but she felt a little silly for her reaction. Giles gave her a confused look, then turned back to Ethan with a strange mixture of emotion on his face.

"What are you doing here, Ethan?"

"Well, I don't see why I shouldn't visit my old haunt just because we're not," Ethan's eyes flashed to her then, the look far from pleasant, "friendly, anymore."

"Leave," Giles said and his voice was so hard and...different that Willow had to look at him. The tension crackled in the air between the two men. Their eyes remained on each other, as if both were trying to will the other to their way of seeing things. Willow swallowed hard, her mind suddenly wandering in directions it had never gone before.

"No. Make me."

Giles stood up at Ethan's softly spoken response and, from the look on his face, he had every intention of throwing the other man out bodily, and probably painfully. She'd never seen Giles puff up that way, his whole body coiled so that it seemed he couldn't keep himself from bouncy as he stood there. His fists were clenched, and he looked...dangerous.

"Uh, guys," Willow interrupted, scooting out of her booth, and around Ethan, to lay her hand on Giles' shoulder. It was tense under her hand, muscles bunched, ready. She tried to control the shiver that poured through her, focusing on the situation. "Gil-Rupert, we really should be going. You know, research to do, timelines to restore. Chaos magic to get the hell away from." The last she hissed softly so that only Giles would hear.

At her touch, Giles' posture relaxed. He turned, slinging his arm around Willow's waist, turning her around with him. "Quite right, dear girl. Let's get the hell out of here."

Willow was too stunned by Giles' arm around her to protest the fairly rapid pace he set towards the door. Okay. Breath. He's just...uh, messing with Ethan. Ethan? Oh, man.

Willow's thoughts occupied her all the way to the car. Giles' mood seemed to have plummeted since they'd met up with the sorcerer and Willow had so many questions swimming in her head she didn't even know where to begin.

She got into the car quickly, worried that Ethan might have followed them outside. Giles seemed to be worried as well, because he was quick to start the car and get them out of there.

"Uh, G-Rupert? That was...uh, were...Hmm. Okay, that kinda seemed like a lover's spat." She glanced over to find the man giving her a surprised look.

"I...I thought you knew about, uh, Ethan and I?"

"Oh. No. See, cause, I...uh, thought. Well, uh. No, just knew that you two knew each other, were friends once."

Wow. Giles was gay? Willow blinked at the dashboard, shaking her head. No. At the most he was bisexual. He'd dated Miss Calendar after all. The slightly queasy feeling left her stomach at that. Had she not had a crush on him since...god, forever, she wouldn't have cared but...it was good to know there was a chance...even though there wasn't really, cause Giles would never, but... Well it wasn't completely out of the--

"Friends once? Ah," Giles sighed, his expression sad and thoughtful. Willow knew that expression, had been wearing it for days now. "I suppose Ethan and I will never mend things then. Will we?" He looked to her for an answer and Willow was about to give him one when a thought occurred.

"I...I shouldn't tell you anything. I don't want to...to change things."

"What? Oh, yes... I suppose that's the right thing to do." He didn't seem happy about it though and Willow wanted badly to change the topic, distract him.

"Uh, so, why not a Vengeance Demon?" He shot her an enquiring look so Willow explained. "Your friend? She said it couldn't have been a Vengeance Demon."

"Oh, oh, yes. Uh, well. It seems there are rules about shifting timelines. Dimensions are fine, but Vengeance Demon aren't allowed to play around with time. So, if you are, in fact, in your own dimension, then a Vengeance Demon couldn't have done this."

"Oh! I know a spell that could help us find out if this is the right dimension."

Giles raised an eyebrow at her, chuckling. "I'll just bet you do. What will we need?"

Willow ran quickly through the list of ingredients, ticking them off on her fingers. Giles, 'hmmm'ed once, but other than that he just nodded.

"Well, I have everything but the Devil's Shoestring at my flat. We'll have to stop for it, but there's a shop not to far from here."

"Right. But...but what if I am in my own dimension? If it wasn't a Vengeance demon, and I'm not in another dimension, then how did this happen?" Willow chewed on her bottom lip, sighing. While all this was fascinating and...and Gi-Rupert was, er, fascinating, she didn't want to stay here. She wanted to go home, to Buffy and Xander, and...her Giles.

Rupert was quiet until they stopped at a light and then he turned to her.

"I...I don't know," Rupert laid his hand on top of hers and Willow's breath caught in her throat. She stared at the hand for a moment that seemed to last forever before following up the arm and then meeting Rupert's gaze. "We'll figure this out, Willow. I promise you."

Nodded, speech eluding her, Willow swallowed hard.

With that, Rupert turned back to the road, but his hand stayed on Willow's and...even if she could have found words, she wasn't about to complain. Instead she closed her eyes and savored it. The way his much larger hand felt over hers, the way his skin was all warm and slightly rough. Shivering, she opened her eyes, pretending she hadn't been thinking of how his hands might feel on other, more sensitive, places.

The trip to the shop didn't take long. Rupert seemed to know the owner, and everyone else in the place. Willow was struck by how young he was, and...how happy. She'd never seen Giles look so happy, never seen him start up casual conversations so easily. Maybe it was Sunnydale that did it.

Sometimes, Willow hated having been born there. It meant she knew the people, or most of them. It meant that, when she read an obituary, she at least knew of the person. Giles didn't have that, and he was lucky, in a way. But that also meant that he didn't have this, the casual circle of acquaintances, the people you know just to say 'hi' and maybe talk about the weather. Or, apparently in this case, debate lightly with about the uses of frog saliva.

Making an 'eew' face, Willow wondered down the aisles, waiting for Rupert to be done. She knew most of the stuff she passed. Still, when looking at the red candles, something started to niggle at her mind. Frowning, Willow picked one up, but then there was a hand on her shoulder. Jumping, Willow dropped that candle and Rupert dove in, catching it with a raise eyebrow and handing it back to her.

"Didn't mean to startle you."

"Uh, no...I just, was thinking and went all distant-y. Sorry." Smiling sheepishly, she put the candle back and looked to the small bag Rupert was carrying. "Ready?"

"Yes, all sorted."

Willow followed him back to the car, grinning when Rupert opened the car door for her and handed her the herbs.

"Don't worry," he said with a small smile. "We'll get you home. I'm sure...I'm sure I'm very worried about you." Winking, he closed the door and went to get in on the driver's side.

Willow smiled all the way back to Rupert's apartment, a nice little place much like his Sunnydale condo. There were a few things that she recognized, the antique radio, the shadow puppets, a few other odds and ends. Overall though, the place wasn't quite filled with books and there was more space in the living room, more seating.

"Wow, this is nice." Willow commented with a smile, though she felt odd being here. The place screamed Giles, but then it didn't. Then she saw the picture of Ethan, mostly hidden behind other things, but still there.

She hadn't really bothered to look at him in the...pub. He was younger too, obviously, but she hadn't paid attention. In the picture though, she could see the differences. Walking over to it, she picked it up and found that it was actually a picture of both of them. Rupert and Ethan both looked happy, both goofing off with their arms around one another.

"Ah, that's-that's nothing," Rupert said from behind her, leaning forward to take the picture out of her hand. His chest pressed into her back and Willow had to bite back a gasp at the feel of it. His arm pressed along hers for just a moment, and then he was gone, as was the picture, though she hardly had enough presence of mind to notice.

"So, uh, you-you two were together?" She asked, after a moment, turning to find Giles putting the picture in a desk drawer.

"Uh, yes. We...we were."

"And, uh...he left?" Willow shook her head, thinking better of the question. "You don't have to answer! I just, uh, I thought...you know, since the whole Oz leaving me and not saying anything when he sent for his stuff, and... I thought I might be a good person to listen...if, uh, if you needed to-to talk about it."

Rupert looked up at her, just a movement of his eyes without raising his head. He smiled, blinking slowly. "That's, that's a very kind offer. You're a very kind woman."

Willow blinked, then quickly wiped the stunned expression off her face. There was just something about...about Giles, but not Giles, but Giles , calling her a woman. It...well, it did happy things to her.

"I, uh, just...I know what it's like, ya know? 'Cause...I just wanted to get it all over with, the pain? And nobody wanted to hear it. I guess they all got tired of the Oz, Oz, Oz, thing, but it hurts and... I just didn't want to feel it anymore." By the end of her little speech, Willow was looking down at her shoes, sighing. Now she was going on about Oz again and Rupert was going to get tired of it too and--

Rupert took the six steps that separated them, lifting her face up with two fingers against her chin.

"Sometimes, I miss him. Mostly, I know that did the right thing, for both of us. Perhaps...I don't know this Oz at all, and he seems a fool to ever...to ever leave you, but is it possible he thought he was doing the right thing? If...if so, I can tell you that it isn't because he didn't...doesn't love you, or that he wants to hurt you."

Willow smiled at that, but she wasn't sure why. Or, more accurately, she wasn't sure which part made her want to smile more. The fact that she believed Rupert--because he was going through something similar, wasn't he? He'd know what kind of things Oz was thinking, right?--or the fact that he was comforting her, even going so far to mention his own relationship, talking to her like an equal.

It didn't actually matter. She smiled, he smiled back and they both stared for a moment before Rupert broke away with a clearing of his throat. It was the slight blush on his cheeks that intrigued her. She was fairly sure she shared it, but...Giles, blushing? It was...kinda endearing, in a 'oh god, that's weird' sorta way.

"Uh, the spell," he said after a moment, giving Willow another of those little smiles that were starting to make her insides flutter. Because this was Giles . A younger Giles, but still the same man, and his face and his eyes and...Giles.

Nodding, she watched him gather the supplies, setting them all out on his kitchen table. When he got the water for the spell, that's when Willow noticed his hands were shaking.

Taking the bowl from him, their fingers brushing and making her shiver just a little, Willow asked, "What wrong?"

"Uh, it's-it's nothing...just, uh...I haven't done anything like this since, uh, since Eyghon."

"Oh." Willow looked at the ingredients and then back at Rupert, "Uh, I can, uh, maybe do it by-"

"No," Rupert said softly, but in a very firm tone. "I have no doubt that you could, but the more people participating, the more stable a spell and casting on oneself is always a little unstable."

Willow snorted, nodding.

"Tell me about it." Shaking her head, Willow ready herself for the spell. She liked magic, the way it felt, as if she was part of something, in control of something. She could do something that none of the others could, something to really help. "Are you sure you want to do this. You don't have to."

"I know," Rupert replied with a little grin, taking his seat on the other side of the small table and beginning to mix and set things up. "I want to."

Nodding, Willow began her own preparations, laying the circle of salt and sage, setting candles at each quarter. Nodding when she was happy with the result, she took her seat, eyes quickly skimming over everything.

"Well, time for the magic."

Rupert grinned at her, nodding and holding out his hands. Willow bit the insides of her lips as she placed her hands in his, trying not to think about them at all. Which, of course, was like the proverbial purple hippo. Finally managing to push the thoughts away, she concentrated on the candle flame before her, just as Rupert was doing.

Breathing deeply in and out, she closed her eyes and visualized that flame, letting it grow bigger and bigger in her mind until it was a raging fire, full of crackling energy. Taking that power into herself, Willow felt as if the air had been charged. Rupert's hands tightened on her own, bringer her mind back to the spell. Squeezing back in thanks, she began the chant and was impressed by how well Rupert blended his voice to hers, letting her take the lead.

Smiling at that, Willow once again forced herself to concentrate, directing the fire into her words until they seemed to drop into the world, heavy and solid, crowding the space inside the circle and making it a little hard to breath.

She knew the moment the spell was ready, ready to be let go to do its work. It filled up the space, and she released it, feeling through their connected hands as Rupert did the same. Now, they just had to wait.

"It shouldn't take long," she said with a small smile. Her hands were still in his, as Rupert hadn't let go and...she didn't want to just yet. "A few seconds and anything that doesn't belong in this dimension, and was inside the circle, will glow...uh, pink, I think."

Chuckling, Rupert drew his hands away, dry, slightly roughened skin sliding over her own and sending a wave of little goose bumps up her arms. She glanced around, feeling slightly awkward, though Rupert was leaning back in his seat, hands behind his head, apparently relaxed. His eyes, too, were skimming around the small kitchen, waiting.

Nothing. They waited, in silence, nearly a full minute, but there wasn't even a faint shimmer.

"Well, then not a vengeance demon. What else?"

"I have no idea, just yet." Rupert sat up, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and gesturing to ask if Willow wanted one. "However, I suggest research to remedy that horrible affliction."

"Sounds good to me. Just call me research girl. Where do we start?"

****

Willow looked up at the clock, blinking word-bleary eyes.

"It's one a.m.," she muttered, shutting yet another book. "I hope you've got more than I do."

They'd spent the night buried in books, surrounded by the smell of old paper. It was nice, reminded her not of the library, but of Giles' apartment. The library, kept impeccably clean by the janitors because otherwise Giles threw a fit, smelled similar, but with the addition of various super strength cleaning agents. Giles' apartment smelled like books, with the added scents of tea and...Giles.

"Actually, I have...nothing." Sighing, Rupert laid his own book aside, coming to stand beside her and offering a hand up. "Why don't I get you something to sleep in and we can both get some rest. I'll even let you have the shower first, if you're so inclined."

Willow went still, pretending to study the cover of one book. She thought of wearing something of Giles' and rolled her eyes at herself. It's not as if the man's offering to give me the clothing off his back ...that thought left her just a little more flustered, as then, of course, Rupert would be naked.

Shaking her head, Willow took the hand up and stood, stretching. "Yeah, that would be goo-" her words stopped when she turned to find Rupert so close. Looking up, she found him watching her with...a very nice expression in his eyes. He wasn't more than half a foot away, not even a step to put their bodies together, if either of them had so chosen.

Her heart sped up, as did her breathing. She stood there, meeting his eyes, the air between them charged as if they were spell casting once again. He moved slowly, or maybe everything only seemed slow. Willow couldn't tell, nor did she care when his hand came up and cupped her cheek, thumb rubbing lightly over her cheekbone.

"Dear God, you're beautiful," he whispered it as if it were a confession shared between old friends and Willow's breath caught.

"I...oh, I..." She had no words, but felt as if she should say something, even if only to draw out the moment, make it last forever. Then Rupert drew away again, clearing his throat.

"I'll, uh, just-just go get you those clothes." And he was gone, leaving Willow cursing her lack of speech. If she'd just said something, anything, he would have stayed, she was sure of it.

Then confusion set in and she had to sit down. Giles, Rupert, found her attractive... beautiful. Her breath caught again, remembering the word in his voice. Did that mean that...that maybe Giles could find her beautiful too? And...what did all of this mean for the future anyway? If she'd really gone back in time, would Giles remember any of this? Would it be part of his past? Had it already been part of his past? Shaking her head, Willow closed her eyes against thoughts she couldn't quite wrap her mind around.

He returned with sweats, giving her a slightly sheepish look. "Uh...it's all I could find...I don't know if the trousers will fit you at all, but, uh," he looked away for a moment, his cheeks a bit flushed. "Here."

"Right," Willow said, taking them from his hands but never looking away from his face. "Clothes. I should, uh, yeah, just go...put these on."

Slipping past Rupert, her arm brushed his and she shivered on her way to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned against it, looking down at the clothes. The sweat pants had a drawstring and that might be enough. Breathing slowly in and out, she changed. Pausing for a moment, she had to decide whether to take her bra off or leave it on.

There's no way I can sleep it that thing, and that's all there's going to be. Sleep. So it doesn't matter and should just come off. Nodding, she took it off and slipped on the shirt. The sleeves were too long and hung over her hands and the shirt itself came down to mid-thigh. Rolling up the sleeves, she put on the pants and pulled the draw string tight. The pants were too big, but they covered everything.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Willow sighed. She looked...baggy.

It doesn't matter. Sleeping, remember? I'll be on the couch and he'll be in his bed and there will be sleeping.

Nodding to herself, Willow folded up her clothes and bundled them under her arm. Rupert was in the kitchen, cleaning up from the spell. Willow dropped her clothes on the couch and went to help.

"Are you hungry," he asked, straightening and turning to her. Willow caught his, rather shy, smile and couldn't help but smile back.

"Uh, no, I'm-I'm good. Just, uh, tired." Starting to clear off the table, Willow moved to the other side and bumped into Rupert, who dropped his dustpan full of salt. "S-sorry! Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry, now you've got to--" her words cut off as Rupert straightened once again, bring their face close.

"It's-it's no problem, I..." they stared at one another for a long moment. Willow licked suddenly dry lips and her breathing sped when Rupert's eyes flicked to her tongue.

She didn't actually remember getting to the kiss, it just seemed to appear. Their lips were pressed against one another, Rupert's arms were around her waist, pulling her close. Her breathing came in ragged pants, the warmth of his body making her dizzy. She opened her lips to him, a little whimper emerging from her throat when his tongue licked over and then inside.

Rupert groaned into her mouth and she could feel his cock stirring against her hip. Almost desperately, she pressed forward, her hips moving against him. He pulled back, his lips moving to her cheek, her jaw, and then her neck, planting slow, wet kisses along her skin. Willow shivered at the feel of it, his tongue and teeth brushing the sensitive flesh behind her ear.

"Oh," she whispered, swallowing hard and tilting her head to the side. His hands moved to her hips before one slid up her arm, rubbing gently up and down. Willow pressed her body against Rupert, kissing at his shoulder and chest.

He leaned back against the wall, pulling her with him, bracing his legs apart so that she stood between them. He drew back, the hand on her arm coming up to cup her cheek. "I don't...uh, don't usually..."

He let the sentence trail off, but she was fairly certain she knew what he meant. He'd just met her, after all, even if she'd known...well, sorta him, for years. Willow smiled shyly, laying both her hands on his stomach, one on either side. She looked up at him with a sigh.

"I...understand, I do. Uh, honestly, I've...kinda had a crush on you, well, uh, future you...for...ever." Looking down sheepishly, Willow was surprised when Rupert reached down to brush his fingers over her cheek.

"Do I, er, does he know that?"

"Giles? Oh, god, no! You, uh, he...kinda treats me like a kid, I doubt he...would ever see me that way."

"Well, perhaps he does now," Rupert whispered, his fingers lifting her face. "After all, I do and so he did at one time. Maybe he will again." He reached out, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Why don't we get some sleep. You can have the bed. I'll take the couch."

Willow opened her mouth to say something, completely unsure of what, then closed it and nodded. Turning to finish the clean up on the table, she stopped dead in her tracks. She'd been reaching for the red candle when it hit her and she turned to Rupert.

"Oh...oh! My 'will be done spell'!" Her eyes went wide and she bounced a little in place. "It worked! That would explain it, that would...I said I wanted to have known you when you'd been as upset as I was... and with... Ethan, this would be the when and...oh, god." Willow stopped, mouth hanging open. "I did this."

Rupert blinked, nudging her to a chair, into which she gratefully sank. "Can you undo it?"

"Well, yeah, I...memorized the counter-spell, just in case, ya know?"

"Then you can go home..." Rupert's voice was soft and there was a slightly sad smile on his face.

"Yeah," Willow nodded, reaching out to lay her hand over his. "I can. I'm...I have to, but I...I really enjoyed this. Knowing you when...when you weren't so 'Giles-y' and more 'Rupert-y'."

Rupert smiled, looking at her over the rim of his glasses in a gestures so Giles-ish is made her chest clench a little. She had enjoyed this, but this wasn't her Giles. This wasn't, yet, the man who she'd come to...care about.

"Well, perhaps now I...he'll be a little more Rupert-ish for you. I'll try, and...I'll remember this, all of it." Rupert rubbed his thumb over her hand and Willow smiled.

"I...I do hope so. I...I really like the future you, though. Don't...don't try to change who you'll be, okay?"

"I wouldn't dare," he murmured with another smile. "Uh, what-what do you need for this counter-spell?"

"Nothing," Willow stood and Rupert stood with her. Smiling, she took a deep breath. "I'll see you soon."

"I'll...see you, eventually. I'm glad to know that."

Nodding, Willow closed her eyes and spoke the counter-spell. "Let the healing power begin. Let my will be safe again. As these words of peace are spoken, let this harmful spell be broken."

And then the world warped again, and the dizziness sent her to her knees.

***

Willow thought she might have blacked out this time. She blinked open her eyes and found herself lying on her bed, Giles...her Giles, looking down at her with worried eyes. He saw her eyes open and Willow watched him take a relieved breath, even as he reached out to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear.

"Feeling all right?" He asked with an uncertain smile.

"Uh...well, I think everything's intact. Maybe, uh, could you help me up?"

"Certainly." Once Willow was sitting, she felt better. Looking down she realized she was still in Rupert's sweats.

Huffing, she stood, turning to look at Giles. "You didn't say anything! You knew, all this time, and you never said a word to me!"

Giles lifted an eyebrow, but didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about. "Uh, well, you didn't want me to, uh, well change anything and...if I had said something...and...I feel relatively sure," he smiled and Willow saw a flash of the Rupert she'd just met, "that I didn't remember any of this until...it's very confusing," he finally muttered.

Willow nodded, trying to wrap her mind around all of this...trying make sense of the paradox. "Still, it's the way it was now...so...why didn't you say anything? Why...why didn't you...tell me?"

"Well, much-much for the same reason you told me so little then," Giles removed his glances, pinching his nose and shaking his head, "I, uh, I didn't want to change anything and...well, uh, didn't-didn't know if...well, I...I'm a much older, er, different man now and--"

Willow ended his words, taking her courage in both hands and moving in to kiss him. It was quick. Little more than a rubbing of lips against lips, but when she pulled away, the stunned, and then pleased, look on Giles' face was more than reassurance enough.

"I told you then, I've, uh, had a crush on you, this you, for a long time," she said quietly. Her heart sped up when Giles tossed his glasses on the bed, ran his hands up her arms, and leaned in for a real kiss.

 

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