He woke early the next morning.
He still hadn’t quite adjusted to the new house. Its rhythms were different, the ambient sounds were off. Even the way the air flowed through this enclosed bedroom was noticeably different from his loft.
He lay awake, quietly. He was on his side, and Willow was back to back with him, leaning against him. He could feel her warmth through her soft nightshirt, and her weight was comfortable. Outside, birds were twittering at each other, and the traffic passed steadily on the nearby road.
He was getting married today.
His first reaction, lying there in a golden haze of near-sleep, was simple joy. He smiled, and reached back, touching Willow’s arm. She’d be his wife.
His smile widened to a grin. Then Eric shifted inside of him. Felt like a stretch, maybe. Whatever it was, it reminded him quite firmly that he had to pee. Right now.
He eased out of bed. Willow murmured something sleepily, but knowing her, she could well be speaking to a character in a dream. He checked to see that she was still sleeping, pulled the sheet gently over her shoulder. Eric shifted again.
He padded quietly down the carpeted hall to the bathroom, idly rubbing a hand over his stomach.
“Feeling active this morning, are we?” he said to his stomach once he was the door was shut and he was sure he wouldn’t be bothering Willow.
Apparently, Eric was feeling active, because he continued shuffling around all through Giles’ morning routine.
Giles slipped back into their bedroom, and stopped just inside the doorway. Beautiful Willow, still asleep, her hair tousled on the pillow, yellow morning sunlight kissing her shoulder. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Love squeezed his heart until it hurt. These past four weeks, with her, were wonderful.
He’d never realized how alone he was, until now, when he wasn’t anymore. When he knew that every day, he would come home to someone, to her.
Her bright chatter in the afternoons, her sleepy murmurs in the mornings, her grumbles when she was tired or bored, all of it was precious to him. He hadn’t loved anyone this much since...
In a very, very long time.
And, god, yes, it was too fast. But he wanted this forever, so much it brought tears to his eyes.
He walked to the bed, leaned down and kissed her cheek, and then climbed in next to her, lying beside her to watch her wake.
Her eyelids fluttered, and she made a soft sound, almost a word. He gently brushed her hair back behind her ear, and her face turned into his touch, just slightly. He let his fingers drift down to her lips. Then her eyes opened, and she said, “Hey.”
He felt her word, felt her smile. Smiled back, and then kissed her softly, his finger making way for their lips.
“Morning,” she said, then she blinked, and suddenly her eyes were wide. “Oh. Oh, hey. Are we... are we still gonna...”
“As long as you still want to,” he said, and tried not to feel panicked.
“Of course,” she said. “Silly.”
Then she kissed his nose.
“Guess we should get dressed, huh?”
***
She could barely calm down enough to eat two slices of toast and an egg for breakfast. She was all jittery inside, now, in his car, like she’d drank way too many mochas. She looked over just to see him beside her. And because he looked really sharp in his suit. He, at least, looked calm, watching the road impassively.
She reached over and put her hand on his knee, just to see him react.
He smiled, and she smiled, and then he turned off the road into the parking lot at the mall.
Rings. They were going to buy wedding rings. She was so excited, she could hardly breathe.
“So, so, what kinda rings do you think we should get?”
The question burst out before she could do anything about it as she walked around the car and met Giles on the other side.
“Like, gold? ‘Cause it’s all traditional. But, but platinum’s pretty, too. And are we gonna get something with diamonds? We really don’t have to, of course, ‘cause jewelry’s not even really my thing, and I don’t think we should buy anything that we have to, you know, have a financing plan for, cause-- I’m babbling again, aren’t I?”
“Just a bit,” Giles said, but his eyes were kind and loving, just the way she loved to see them. “I think you’re entitled.”
His arm was around her shoulder, and she loved that, too. She just loved him, up and down and backwards and forwards, and all over, and yeah, she was feeling *really* sappy today, but then, she was kind of entitled to that, too. Plus, it was really so nice to be thinking of something other than death right now. Although, even thinking *that* made her feel guilty.
Because what right did she have to be all happy when Dawn and Buffy would never get to see their mom again?
“I wish we could do a spell, and fix things,” she said, and then realized that she hadn’t really given Giles any actual segue to work with. “I mean, for--”
“I know,” Giles said, quickly, “And you know we can’t. It isn’t--”
“Right. I know. It’s not right. But, still. This stinks.”
He hugged her tighter for a moment, and rubbed her arm.
“I know.”
They were silent the rest of the way to the jewelry shop, and she felt bad for even bringing it up. When they stepped inside, now surrounded by all these glass cases full of shiny stuff, he kissed her, just beside her ear, and whispered, “Anything you like.”
And ok, she was pretty sure he hadn’t meant it that way, but those words sent a dark and sexual shudder through her.
He let go of her, but she didn’t want to move away. She felt kind of like a shy child, hovering back away from the other kids. Wanting to go, wanting their company, knowing that good things lay ahead, and yet, afraid of stepping away from familiar comfort.
Rings would make it real. Physical.
She was still beside him, close enough to feel his body against her, her shoulder bumped against his side, the swell of his stomach against her flank. She turned towards him and looked up at him, and he looked down at her, calm and cool.
She touched his face.
Freshly shaven, smooth, except his upper lip, where her fingertips caught on short stubble, and another rough patch on that spot just beneath his chin. Hands moved down, across broad shoulders, powerful biceps.
She knew this was a public place and a private moment, knew it must be making him uncomfortable, reserved as he was, but he bore it quietly, without complaint, without even shifting away from her.
He even carried this child like a male, sometimes rolling his body back a bit as though trying to take the weight on his shoulders. The extra bulk sat uneasily on his unsuited frame. He’d hardly breathed a word of complaint until one day his back hurt so much he could hardly get out of bed. Ever since then, backrubs had become a part of their routine, but she could still read silent pain in his stance more often than not.
He attacked the situation like a battle plan, making strategies and executing strikes. He had lists and tables and even diagrams and watched his diet and exercise with the same scrupulous intensity he devoted to Buffy’s training.
He was a man, no question, and she asked herself one more time, there in that jewelry store, if it bothered her. She knew she wanted him, but she couldn’t lie. Couldn’t pretend it wasn’t true that, more often than not, it was women who caught her eye. Even today in the mall, just walking in the door, she’d noticed someone.
As she stretched her hands around the firm muscle of his arms, she thought about soft curves and long hair and hot, slick heat clenched around her fingers.
But as she took a deep breath, she could smell his cologne, and all it ended up coming down to was him. Giles. Rupert. The one she loved.
She smiled.
“All I want is you,” she said.
He smiled, too.
“Well, you already have me. Surely there’s something else in here you’d also find attractive.”
So they looked around, and ended up settling on a pair of simple gold bands.
But there was something else that did catch her eye, and before they left the mall, she said, “You know, we’re getting married. I think we should buy gifts. For each other. Don’t you?”
And as soon as he’d agreed and they’d gone their separate ways, she’d slipped back to the shop and made another purchase. Then, she’d settled down on the bench they’d chosen to meet back at and pulled out the other small box, flipped it open and stared down at the glint of light on gold rings until he showed back up, and they were ready to go.
Get married.
***
“You know,” she said, “the last time I was here, I was being held hostage.”
He peered up at the imposing City Hall.
“Well. Hopefully, this experience will be... a bit more pleasant.”
She snuggled against him.
“You know it will, silly,” she said. He pulled her closer. They were just standing next to his car. Technically, they should be walking across the street. Into the building. Down to the county clerk’s office.
Neither of them were actually moving however.
His voice of reason cheerfully informed him that he was completely off his rocker insane.
“I mean,” she said, “It would kinda have to be, right? Pretty much anything better than being threatened by Faith at knifepoint.”
He loved her. He truly, truly did. But god, his relationships... they really never worked out as he planned them. This whole idea suddenly seemed dangerously optimistic. Naive, even.
“Although, um, don’t tell anyone, but... that whole Faith thing? Kinda sexy, actually.”
He chuckled, startled, and hugged her tighter. Kissed her hair. Took a deep breath, both to fortify his courage and simply to breathe in her scent, and then said, “All right, then. Shall we do this?”
He felt her grip a handful of his shirt and was actually relieved at the sign that she was as nervous as he.
“Yup. Yup, let’s do this.”
When they reached the steps, she said, “Giles? Are you scared, too?”
They stopped again.
“We... we don’t have to do this, Willow. If you’re--”
She gave him a Look.
“Wuss,” she said.
But they stayed there, at the foot of the steps, facing each other, holding hands between them. The wind teased her bangs loose and a lock fell over her eye. He reached up to push it back in place. She tilted her face into his touch.
“I love you,” she said, “And... I want this. Even if... it’s big and it’s scary.”
And all there was to say to that was, “So do I.”
Waking every morning as he had this morning, with her beside him.
So they climbed the stairs.
And they bloody well did it.
***
Giles and Willow had been late. They’d said they’d be here by three. Probably they’d been off somewhere having sex.
Disgust twisted his gut, and he shoved aside that particular mental image. Wonderfully nice of them. Abandoning Buffy and Dawn in their time of need for their own icky pleasures.
Xander scrubbed the dish he was holding with a bit more vitriol than strictly necessary.
Out in the living room, Dawn and Anya were arguing over the validity of a Scrabble word, and Giles’ deeper tones were cutting in now and then, and mostly, it seemed from the escalating volume, being ignored. Or making things worse.
Scrabble was a dumb game anyway, in Xander’s opinion. Totally skewed towards losers who spend their way too long lives reading way too many big books.
And stupid vampires who knew words like “effulgent.”
And what the hell was up with Willow and Buffy and their whole thing with dating completely inappropriate guys? Why hadn’t she *learned* by now not to date the evil undead? And Willow was supposed to be all gay now. So why was Giles so special, anyway?
In the other room, the game apparently broke up. Dawn stalked though the kitchen near tears.
Xander was about to go after her when Spike followed, pushing him aside and saying, “I got it, stay here.”
Anya’s voice came through clearly over the running water for a moment. “It is *so* a proper noun!”
He finished up the last dish and walked into the living room, to find that everything had gone disturbingly quiet. That is, except for Buffy. Who was crying. Clutching Giles like a lifeline and sobbing.
Anya was staring, taken completely aback, and Willow was sitting on the other side of Buffy on the couch with her hand on her back, leaning in and adding her own murmurs to Giles’ litany of comfort.
Xander froze and swallowed hard. What the hell happened?
Giles looked up for a moment, and his eyes silently flicked from Xander to Anya to the kitchen.
Hurting and a little scared, seeing Buffy like this, he took the silent cue and said, “Hey, Ahn, wanna help put the dishes away, maybe?”
“What happened?” he asked, once they were back in the kitchen.
“I don’t know. One moment we were arguing about whether Kleenex was a proper noun, which it is, of course, because it’s a brand name, and the next thing I know, Dawn was running away and then Buffy was crying...”
She stopped and looked at the plate in her hands.
“This is all very confusing and distressing.”
“Yeah,” Xander said, “You can say that again.”’
After a while, Giles and Willow came into the kitchen.
“Buffy’s resting until dinner’s ready,” Giles said.
Willow had her hand on his shoulder, where his shirt was wet. God, did they have to be all over each other like that all the time? Xander looked away pointedly.
“You can go if you’d like,” Giles added.
“Yes, let’s,” Anya said, quickly.
He had to agree with her.
“Yeah. I’m gone. Better than watching the two of you hang all over each other.”
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