Title: Tomorrow 9/?
Author: Madsdog
Disclaimer: If I just owned Willow's body, Dawn's hair and Giles' voice to sing me to sleep... okay... none of it's mine- those bits belong to the actors and the rest is Joss' and Marti's (Tara-killers) and Love Letter #1 belongs to Red
SPOILERS: UP UNTIL THE END OF 'TWO TO GO'
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EARLY SEASON 6 (AFTER FLOODED)
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She'd threatened him. It hadn't quite sunk in yet, but... he'd called her stupid, and then... the others were too close. She'd wanted to shout at him, scream that she didn't understand. She'd brought Buffy back; she'd battled Osiris and won. And he'd...
It wasn't even the words he'd said. It was how he'd said them. She knew he didn't like her using powerful magicks, knew he worried about her. But he'd meant his words to sting, tried to hurt her. He'd never done that before. Normally it was her that accused, that got violent, that aimed to wound with words, while he soothed, sympathised, evened out the world's wrongs. He was perfect and the one time it should have been her turn to be the carer, she'd thrown it back at him. Threatened him.
Since then she'd been wandering the Sunnydale streets. It wasn't safe, it wasn't smart, but it was a darn sight better than the Summers' house. Buffy and Dawn had bonding to do. She'd get in the way.
She wasn't surprised when she looked up to see she was in front of his apartment. He was either going to be here or The Magic Box, but she was betting for here: there was more booze.
Pulling the chain around her neck out from under her coat, she kissed the ring on it lightly before pushing it aside, taking the key that laid along side it and easing it into the lock to open the door.
"Rupert?" The open bottle of scotch sat forlornly on the counter. Pouring herself a shot, she sat on the sofa, scanning the shelves, throwing back the drink she tried to put her finger on what was different. The whole room looked more... organised somehow.
She heard a noise upstairs and moved to investigate.
"Rupert?" His back was to her, but she could tell by the tension in his muscles, the slight shake in his upper arms that he'd been crying.
"What are you doing here?" Her attention was drawn to his resumed activities. He was putting clothes into a box.
"I wanted to apologise."
"For what you did?"
"For what I said."
"If you can't see that what you did-"
"I can't be sorry for that."
"Then this is."
"It's not a waste of time." He sighed deeply, before moving to a bookshelf and selecting his favourite volumes. She took in the sight around her; boxes, empty shelves, packing tape.
"Giles, are you-"
"You promised me you'd never mess with these kinds of magics, that you'd always run things by me first."
"You promised you'd always be here for me." His shoulders squared before he started to reply.
"I was away for-"
"But you're not going to be, are you? You're leaving."
"Willow, I-"
"Look at me damn it!" She waited until he turned to face her, "You're going back to England, aren't you? Is this because of what I did?"
"No. Will, Love, there're some things come up that I have to be over there for."
"For good?"
"You know I love you right?"
"Don't you dare change the subject."
"Don't make me do this love."
"No. If you're going to leave me I want to know why." Tears ran down her face: the combination of the argument earlier and now this, too much. What had happened in England to make him want to leave her? Until tonight everything had been great. The summer, although sad, had wrapped things up nicely. He'd asked her again to marry him: this time in the immediate future, before Christmas. He said he'd come up with a way round The Council, and had gone to London to talk to them and find a place to live, including a job for him and school for her. Finally everything was coming together and now he was packing his house up to move it away. Away from her.
"Something came up in London when I was there."
"What kind of something?"
"The kind of something that means I have to go live there."
"But we were going to live there anyway. Give me a couple of weeks to wrap things up here, and then we can go."
"No."
"What?"
"You cannot come with me Willow."
"I can't?"
"No. I have to go alone."
"So you're really leaving me?" The words stung him- but he was. He didn't know what to say to her
"What about this?" She held up the ring he'd given her two years ago.
"We can't get married Willow."
"Why not?"
"We just can't."
"Why not?" She was almost screaming at him now. She didn't care, but she was aware she was.
"I already have a wife."