Title: Tumblin' Down 4/?
Author: Elisabeth
Email: dragonydreams@yahoo.com
Website: http://www.dragonydreams.com/
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Willow/Giles
Summary: What if Riley hadn't been there to pull Willow out of harm's way during "Wild at Heart"?
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Joss et al.
Distribution: My site, the usual lists, anyone with previous permission. Anyone else - please ask.
Feedback: Yes please! It makes me happy and keeps me writing.
Author's Note: Thanks to my wonderful Betas for all of your help and encouragement.
Willow gradually came to wakefulness. She was reluctant to leave the pleasant dream she'd been having of a candlelit bubble bath, soft relaxing music playing in the background.
Willow groaned as her stiff muscles protested the return to consciousness. Her neck was a little sore and her pillow felt harder than she remembered. She also couldn't move one of her arms.
Upon opening her eyes, Willow found that her pillow was hard because it was Giles' shoulder. Her muscles were stiff because she had been sleeping sitting up, and leaning over to the side. She couldn't move her arm because it was wrapped around Giles', their fingers intertwined.
Willow sheepishly looked at Giles' bemused face. "Sorry," she apologized as she moved away from the warmth of his body. Giles reluctantly released his hold on her small hand, which Willow pulled onto her lap.
"There's nothing to apologize for," Giles insisted. "You were tired and needed rest."
"But I didn't need to find it on you. You've been trapped here all this time and it's all my fault."
"I was hardly trapped. I could have moved at any time if I had needed to," Giles once again insisted. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," Willow softly smiled. "No nightmares."
"Wonderful," Giles smiled back.
Willow's stomach chose that moment to remind everyone that while Willow had spent much of the day asleep, it had been neglected. The color rose on Willow's cheeks at the noise. "I guess I'm a little hungry."
"That's understandable. I could do with some food myself. Is there anything you're in the mood for?"
"Soup?" Willow bashfully requested. "Despite all the horrible food in the hospital they never once served chicken soup. And in my head, sick equals soup."
"But you're not sick," Giles reminded her.
"Close enough. Don't argue with the invalid."
Holding his hands up in defeat, Giles conceded, "Fine. Are you going use that excuse to win every argument?"
"Yep," she beamed.
"Right. Chicken soup on the way," Giles said as he set his books aside and moved to stand. "Do you want to eat in here or would you care to join me in the kitchen?"
"Kitchen," Willow decisively said. "I can't be spending all of my time lying in bed, it's not good for my hip. Need to keep moving."
"Very well. I will begin preparing the soup and you can meet me in the kitchen when you are ready."
"Thanks. I'll be in in a minute."
Willow moved the breakfast tray with her laptop still open to the space Giles had just vacated. She then reached for the crutches she had propped up next to the bed. Swinging her body around until her legs were off the bed was a slow and mildly painful process. She sighed with relief once she was balanced on the crutches.
Willow moved to the door. She turned her head towards the kitchen, hearing Giles rummaging around in the fridge and cupboards. She was having second thoughts about the soup if he had to dig that deep to find the can and can opener.
She closed the door and opened the closet to survey the contents. She wanted to wear a skirt, thinking it'd be easier to move around in, but she was shamed to realize that her legs were in desperate need of a shaving. She'd have to try to do it in the morning; she hoped that Buffy had packed her razor. With a sigh she began opening drawers until she found a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt.
Giles was relieved that he had all of the necessary ingredients for chicken soup on hand. It hadn't occurred to him that the girl would ask for soup. But if it was soup she wanted, it was soup she would have.
He had a couple of chicken breasts in his freezer which he defrosted in the microwave and was cooking in the chicken broth on the stove as he washed and cut the carrots, celery and onion. Willow entered the kitchen as he began cutting the vegetables and adding them to the broth.
Willow watched him curiously for a minute before speaking. "What'cha doing?"
"Making soup," he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Looking around, Willow asked, "Where's the can opener? Or did you already put it away?"
"Can opener?" Giles repeated, before turning to the redhead aghast. "Do you mean to tell me that you've never had homemade soup?"
Willow bowed her head and shook it. Raising her eyes back to Giles' she admitted, "My mom always made it out of a can."
"Well then you're in for a treat. There is nothing as good for the mind and body as homemade soup."
"Chicken Soup for the Soul," Willow giggled.
"If you wish…" Giles agreed, not realizing she was naming a popular self-help/inspirational book.
Willow thought about correcting his obvious miss of the reference, but decided to spare him the embarrassment. Instead she took a seat on the bar stool Giles had brought in from the other room and set next to the counter and watched as Giles prepared the meal.
"Did you make any headway with the prophecy while I was, um, asleep?" Willow asked conversationally.
"Some." Giles added the last of the vegetables to the pot on the stove and lowered the heat to let it simmer. He began to wash the cutting board and knife as he spoke. "There had been one passage that had been giving me quite a bit of difficulty, but I finally managed to finish it."
"And…" Willow prompted.
"It was rather a let down, actually," Giles sighed, finishing with the dishes and drying his hands. "This prophecy isn't going to come into fruition until sometime near the end of the 24th century, in Guam."
"Well, hey, at least they'll know about it now," she cheered.
"Yes, I'll condense my notes and add them to my 'future occurrence' prophecy file."
"You have a 'future occurrence' prophecy file?" Willow giggled.
"Of course," he said as if it was the only possible thing to do. "What did you think I did with prophecies we've discovered that wouldn't occur for some time?"
"I never really thought about it," Willow admitted. "Are you gonna put them together in a book? The Giles Codex?"
"The thought had occurred to me," Giles sheepishly admitted.
"I think you should do it," Willow encouraged. "Ooh, I could type up all your notes for you, put them together on a CD-ROM to make it easier for the publisher."
"That isn't necessary, Willow. This isn't something that I have been serious considering. Merely an idea I've been toying with in my spare time."
Giles turned his attention back to the stove, hoping the subject would now be closed. He wasn't sure why he'd admitted such a fanciful idea to Willow. Composing a Codex would take an enormous amount of time and energy.
He stirred the contents of the pot and brought a spoonful to his mouth for a taste. The temperature was certainly correct. He pulled a carrot out and cautiously bit into it – still a little hard. Next he pulled out a piece of chicken. The color was correct, but he needed to cut it to make certain it was cooked all the way through. It was.
"Just a few more minutes," he informed Willow as he turned back to the redhead, whose eyes were glazed over.
Willow was prepared to tell Giles that he really should do the book, but her voice caught in her throat as she watched him. Giles was bent slightly over the stove, the steam from the pot lightly fogging his glasses. He brought the spoon to his mouth and gently blew on the contents before lapping at the broth and then sucking a carrot into his mouth.
Willow had to repress a groan at the simple act. Her nipples pebbled as she imagined that the spoon was her breast that he was lapping at, and the carrot was a nipple he sucked into his mouth and would then continue to lap at. She was so lost in the pleasurable imagery that she failed to notice that Giles was speaking again.
When she felt him looking at her, Willow blinked and asked, "What?"
Giles smiled, glad she had obviously been having pleasurable thoughts. "I just said that dinner will be ready in a few minutes."
"Oh, okay. It smells wonderful."
"Should I ask what brought such a lovely smile to your face?"
"Um, no," Willow wriggled in her chair, her cheeks flaming.
"Alright," he chuckled. Giles tested the soup again and found it to be ready. "Perfect," he commented after biting into a soft carrot.
He took two bowls down and ladled soup into them. He placed them on the table before setting out a couple of dinner rolls and glasses of water. Finally he gave Willow a spoon as he joined her at the counter.
Willow eagerly filled her spoon, blowing on the contents to cool them off, and took a bite. "Ow, ow, yum, but ow." She quickly set her spoon back down and took a big gulp of water.
"Careful, it's hot," Giles teasingly cautioned.
"Yeah, I got that," Willow said, wiping the tears from her eyes. She lifted her refilled spoon, this time giving it more time to cool off before placing it in her mouth. She slowly pulled the spoon back out, savoring every drop that it had contained. Willow closed her eyes as she chewed, loving the softness of the vegetables, the way the tastes blended so perfectly together, warming her thoroughly. "Mmm," she sighed.
Giles was thankful Willow's eyes closed when they did. He couldn't believe how incredibly erotic she could make eating a spoonful of soup appear to be. His eyes were riveted to the way her lips surrounded the spoon, caressing the metal as it slowly retreated from her delectable mouth. And then she vocalized her pleasure…
"You like," he asked, surprised by the huskiness of his voice.
Willow opened her eyes, surprised to find Giles looking at her with what appeared to be lust. She audibly swallowed before she could answer. "It's perfect. Just what the doctor ordered."
"I'm glad to hear that," Giles said.
The meal continued in silence, both wondering if the heat in the room was from the soup or the company.
After they finished eating Willow insisted on helping with the clean-up, offering to dry the dishes as Giles washed them. The remainder of the soup was stored in the refrigerator for another day.
Giles escorted Willow to her room after they finished cleaning up.
"How would you like to spend the remainder of your evening," he inquired.
"I thought I'd check my e-mail," Willow said. "It's probably piled up and my on-line friends must be wondering what's happened to me."
"Of course. Just let me get these out of your way." Giles picked up his books and notepads, double checking that everything was there. "If you need anything, please let me know."
"I will," Willow smiled as she logged into her email account – once again grateful that she'd had Giles' apartment made accessible for her wireless internet.
"I'll see you in the morning then," Giles said. He leaned down to brush a kiss across Willow's forehead before heading out of the room.
"Good night, Giles. And thanks again, for everything," Willow shyly smiled.