TITLE: Christmas in New York 5/?
AUTHOR: Claudine
EMAIL: claudine423@yahoo.com
PAIRING: W/E, W/G
RATING: PG
FEEDBACK: If I beg ?
NOTES: This is a future fic.
DISCLAIMER: Permission to use these characters relating to BtVS & AtS has not been given. Joss, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy own TM and copyrighted them. Nor do I own the rights to The Grinch or any of the other stories/songs I mention. Gimme a freakin' break Mr. Copyright man - I'm merely a humble fan havin' some fun. No infringement is intended. Say goodnight, Gracie.....
Giles stood in front of Willow and Ethan like a fool. His hair was windblown, his glasses were slightly fogged over, there was snow gathered in the creases of the leather bomber he wore. He looked like a tourist. But, more than that, he looked numb. Even anger was absent from his emotions. This sight - Ethan Rayne in Willow's flat while she was in her jammies - was just unbelievable. "Willow?" He was almost breathless.
"Giles, wait, it's...." She didn't even bother finishing her own sentence. Not only was it cliché, but it was a lie. It was what it looked liked. She had just spent the night making love with Ethan Rayne. Ethan Rayne. She couldn't believe it herself. His name, when removed from the context of the romantic night she had spent with him, actually made her sick. But he was a changed man. Willow knew it to the very core of her soul, she knew he was good. "Giles, just...."
"I can't believe my eyes." Giles was still standing there, devoid of emotion, staring at the two of them.
"Ethan," Willow said, "Would you...."
"I'll just leave the two of you alone." Ethan stepped away from Willow and headed toward the front door. “Rupert..." he met Giles' eyes, "Very sorry it had to be under these circumstances, but it's good to see you old friend." Though Giles didn’t believe him, Ethan meant what he said. Too many years had passed. Ethan’s road to perdition had included Giles far too often – he wanted to make up for it. But, if there was ever a time to atone for the things he’d done to Rupert Giles, this clearly was not it. In fact this was the worst thing he’d ever done, the thing that hurt Giles the most. And yet, Ethan meant no harm this time. The other times, yes, but this was a pure twist of fate.
Giles just glared and bit his tongue. The numbness was wearing off. It took every ounce of his brain activity to keep from instinctually pummeling Ethan right then and there.
Ethan realized he probably shouldn't have said anything. He glanced once at Willow and winked at her taking careful steps to assure Giles hadn't seen the gesture. And in a moment, Ethan was out of view.
Willow walked over to Giles and touched his arm tentatively, "I'll be right back. Please stay. We need to talk."
"Yes, I imagine we do," he said and looked down at his hands. His words were cold, his gaze distant. Willow knew that nothing she could have done would have hurt him more than this. She followed his eyes and her heart almost stopped when she saw what he was looking at. Good things come in small packages. Tiny, blue packages tied up with bows with the words Tiffany & Co. printed on their tops.
There were too many things she needed to smooth over. This one would have to wait.
She looked into his eyes once more but he looked away. "I'll be right back," she said.
She walked to the front door and tore it open. At the end of the hallway Ethan was about to step onto the elevator. "Wait," she called after him. "Ethan."
He stood with his hand holding the elevator door open as if he were planning a quick getaway. But by the time Willow reached him the elevator began to 'ding, ding, ding' and he chose to let the doors close without getting on. "I'm very sorry," he said, "I know this isn't going to be easy for you."
"Look, I'm sorry. I don't...I don't know what to say here." She looked down at the floor, searching for the answers in the recesses of her mind. But she found nothing. It was blank. There were no answers. "Ethan..." She let out a sigh.
He pushed the button to call the elevator back to their floor and then he turned to her. "You don't owe me anything you know. I understand. Ripper and I have a history, you and he, obviously, have a history. Now I know who was on your mind last night," he said and playfully tapped her nose. "I suspected as much, but I didn't want to bring his name up any more often than I had to." He stroked the side of her face tenderly. "Go and fix your life, Willow. If he won't take you back because of this..." Ethan leaned in and kissed her, his finger tucked under her chin holding her face up toward his. It was soft and tender, full of meaning. He never finished his sentence. Ethan stepped onto the elevator and waved goodbye to her.
The moment seemed to move in slow motion for Willow. The picture of Ethan stepping into the vessel that would take him away from her - she would remember it forever. It was like the end of sad movie: every action a grand gesture, every sound amplified beyond recognition. The doors closed so, so slowly while the sound of silence deafened her. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears away from her eyes.
When she walked back into the dining room, Giles was sitting at one end of a long table, his jacket neatly hanging on the chair behind him, the blue Tiffany box in front of him. His hair was fixed, his glasses cleaned. The image was startling. It almost overtook her.
"Giles." She wasn't even in front of him when she started speaking.
"No, please. Allow me to go first." He was calm, his voice soft and low. "Whatever has happened between the two of you is your business and I have no right to judge you. I'm sorry that I interrupted your..." He had no idea how to end his sentence. Surely he couldn't end it with your fucking sin-filled shag-fest with Ethan Rayne, bringer of evil, harbinger of chaos. The thought may have crossed his mind, but he couldn't actually say it.
Willow sat down and took his hand. "Why didn't you call?" It wasn't threatening, she wasn’t insinuating that if he had called this wouldn’t have happened. But still, it wasn't the best thing she could have said.
"I did. Twice on your cell. Once to the flat. I guess you haven't had time to check your messages." He still hadn't met her eyes. "Willow, I know that I've done some pretty stupid things over the past few years, but...well, I'm fallible...like everyone, I suppose. I made mistakes. The biggest mistake of my life was leaving you." He finally looked into her eyes. "Before I found you with Ethan I had planned on asking you to marry me. Crossed an ocean on Christmas Eve to be with you on this...magical...day. But now...I’m not so sure…perhaps I'm not the man for you." He quickly added, "That's not a threat, I don't mean anything judgmental by it, I just...I think maybe you've changed and I've gone on being the same, old...well...me."
Willow was about to cry again. She wanted Giles, she did, but he left her. He left her and he had been gone for two years. They'd emailed back and forth occasionally, called once or twice, but she always felt like he was gone for good, that he was never going to come back to her. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that. You can't just show up after two years and expect us to pick up right where we left off. You left me, remember? London’s calling, blah, blah, blah…You couldn't deal."
"I know," he said softly.
"I...I don't know where my head is right now, I'm too confused." She took a deep breath. "I'm gonna go get dressed. When I come back we'll go out and get something to eat, ok?"
"Yes, witnesses…that would be a good idea." He was joking - that was a good sign.
Willow smiled, some of the tension alleviated. "Funny." She looked into his eyes for a moment and then stood gracefully and left him.
When she returned she found he had cleaned the table off and washed all the dishes from the breakfast that she never got to eat. It would be easier for Giles to walk back into the flat later that day if he didn’t have all those reminders of Ethan around. It was selfish on his part, but Willow thought it was sweet, like he was taking care of her and feeling at home again. If she only knew....
He was sitting on the sofa reading a two-day old newspaper. The moment she entered the room he stood to greet her - always a gentleman. She scanned the room for the little blue box but it was nowhere to be found. He must have tucked it away. Or threw it away, she thought. Suddenly she missed it. Since the first day he leaned over her shoulder back in the library when she was that skinny little kid - all she dreamt about was Giles proposing. The moment came and went in one breath...and it may be gone forever. All she could do was pretend she'd never seen it.
"Ready?" She was wearing a pair of black satin palazzo pants, a low-cut red sweater and high-heeled leather boots. She knew it would be difficult navigating through the snow, but she would use those awkward moments to reach out to Giles for support.
She had listened to her messages when she left him to dress. The first one made her cry. The second...she had to listen to it twice because she couldn't hear it over her sobbing. By the time the third one played she was glad she hadn't applied any make-up yet because she would have had to wash it off and start over.
Willow, it’s me. It’s Christmas Eve. I’m sitting in Heathrow right now about to get on a plane to see you. I know I should have called sooner and I should have made plans to see you...for all I know you’re on a plane to Cleveland to see Buffy and the others. But, here’s the thing…I can’t live without you. I’ve tried but it’s not working. I was selfish and arrogant, I know that. I never should have left you. But I’m on my way back. I know it won’t be easy, I know there will be a lot to discuss, but…if you’ll have me – I’m all yours. See you soon love.
Willow, it’s me again. It’s past midnight your time and I should be there with you right now. But our plane was rerouted to O’Hare because of the weather. Can you believe it? Rerouted to Chicago – that's just bloody brilliant, isn't it? At any rate – I’ve just booked another flight, but it will put me in Newark, not JFK, at around 6 this morning, so I won’t be there for a few more hours. I can’t wait to see you. I know we’ve been apart for the holidays before, but I can’t bear to spend one more day without you. I’ve missed you. I don’t know what you ever saw in me, but…I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me...and let me make up for the past two years. We've lost precious time, love. Too much time. Sweet dreams.
Hi. Just got in to Newark, but there are about 30,000 people in line in front of me to rent a car and no chance in hell of me catching a cab. I’ll be there soon. I still have my key - I hope you haven’t changed the locks. I’ll let myself in if you're still asleep. I know I shouldn’t even say this, but…if you don’t want to see me – please leave word with the front desk that you’ve gone out for the day. I won’t force this on you, love, but…I need you. And...well, I suppose that's enough for now... See you soon.
All that time. Every second it took him to leave those messages, every word that Giles spoke with every fiber of his being, the expanse of ocean he crossed, the cities he stopped in, the snow, the crowds, the tiny blue box he'd protected all that way - she was in Ethan's arms the entire time. Beneath him, beside him, above him, lost in his touch, his kiss, his motion, secretly cursing Giles, privately punishing him for leaving her, never once, never once imagining he'd ever know. It was the very embodiment of the old adage: be careful what you wish for.