Winter Weekend
written by Gail Christison
Rating: FRAO
Spoilers: Fifth season.
Summary: Willow and Giles have discovered each other but they've had to wait and now they're having a riding weekend in the
mountains. Willow has had enough of waiting, but the weather has ideas of its own.
Dedication: To Kris Milstead, whose fault it is.
Feedback Author: Gail Christison
Author's Website: Once More With Feeling
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea? We could just go to the zoo... or the beach... how about Sea World? My treat!"
Giles laughed. "Willow, if you're frightened you only have to say so. I thought you were really interested... "
Willow's cheeks turned bright red. "Oh I am... I mean, I was... I mean... sure... "
"Willow?"
Her eyes dropped. "Okay, what I really wanted was to see you in riding clothes and riding a horse... " She lifted her head again bravely, her eyes cheeky. "You'd look so sexy on horseback."
He guffawed. "Willow Rosenberg, you are nothing but a tease."
"And you love it," she shot back.
He grinned. "Yes I do. I'm bound to admit, I truly do. Would you like to do something else this weekend?"
She shook her head firmly. "We decided to go, and if anyone can cure my horse fear... well pony fear, really... it's you. Besides, I really, really, do want to see you on a horse."
Giles leaned over the steering wheel and looked up. "Bloody weather might give us grief yet."
"Well it is getting awfully close to Christmas," Willow pointed out. "And they do get snow on the mountains, even in California, in winter."
"Yes, but does it have to happen this weekend?" he asked plaintively, skilfully overtaking a Semi.
Willow put down a window and stuck her head out. The air was cold and brisk and the sky was grey and damp looking, where an hour earlier, it had been blue and Spring-ish. Just half an hour before, Giles had put the top up because the air had gotten so cold.
"Looks like it has plans," she dead-panned. "We should get marshmallows. If we can't ride the horses, we can at least toast marshmallows."
"On what?" Giles chuckled. "It's not the Ponderosa, love."
Willow's brow knitted. "You didn't look at the pictures, or read the spiel, did you?"
"What? No, actually I was more interested in the location, the quality of their animals and what it was all going to cost me," he pointed out in a practical voice.
She chuckled. "Well, the main social area has an open fireplace, and so do some of the rooms."
"Taking a bit of a risk, aren't they?"
Willow shrugged. "Cheaper heating... and I guess you could just as easily set the place on fire with a cigarette."
"More easily... " Giles pointed out. "You're right, and it happens far too often."
Willow looked up at his profile. He looked tired. It had been a long week, doing inventory and working late at the store, heavy training every day with Buffy and reading when he should have been sleeping, trying to be as prepared as possible for whatever lay ahead for the Slayer.
He turned a little and smiled at her for no reason, then looked back at the road again as it curved around the mountain.
A warm wave went through her, and a little thrill. For the fifth time that day she found herself utterly aroused and still unable to do anything about it. She had wanted so badly to just be with him all the time, to go home with him after work and college and to wake up with him in the mornings... forever... if she could, but their relationship was so new, and he was being so darned careful.
She sighed, remembering the day they'd discovered each other's secret. It was the day of the opening of the Magic Box. Everyone else had gone home, but she'd stayed longer, to ask him about a spell. He was so tired, so frazzled... and looked so adorable lying there, sprawled in the chair he'd flopped back into the moment the door closed and the place was silent.
It had been an impulse, but a powerful one. She had come to the back of the chair and started rubbing his temples, massaging and caressing, so that he sighed with pleasure as she worked. She'd been overwhelmed by her reaction to touching him so intimately.
A tremor of pleasure went through her and she shot Giles a look to see if he'd noticed how hot her face had become, but he was concentrating on the road as the afternoon continued to darken prematurely.
Willow let her thoughts go back to that moment again. The scent of his shampoo, his cologne, mixed with the aroma of crushed herbs on both their hands, and, because she was so close, the vague scent of maleness after a long day, that was purely Giles, came back to her.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
After long minutes of soothing and relaxing massage he had seemed so relaxed, and again, so adorable: his eyes closed, his hair rumpled and his lips just slightly parted. In a million years she knew she would never had done what she did, if that moment, that particular, lovely moment hadn't happened...
She had leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers, the most wonderful moment of her life, followed by the most awful... the panic, the embarrassment, the waiting for him to yell, or ask her to leave... or...
His body had tensed, but he was otherwise unmoved after she jumped back.
Then green eyes had opened and sought hers.
"Why did you do that?" he'd asked, very gently.
Trembling, Willow made herself hold his gaze. "B-because I wanted to."
"Tell me," he'd whispered, a note of demand in his voice.
"I... Giles, please don't be angry. I... when I was a kid I had an incredible crush on you for the longest time... and then... you know... other stuff. But lately, I... .well I found out it w-wasn't a crush... "
"Willow... " He'd sat up then, and faced her, his eyes incredibly intent. "Willow, do you know what you're saying?"
She had nodded, terrified.
Then he'd smiled. It was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen.
"Good," he'd said softly. "Come here... "
He'd drawn her onto his lap and covered her mouth with his. The kiss had gone on forever... until she thought she was drowning in it... and was happy to do just that...
Willow wriggled in her seat again so that Giles turned his head again. "You all right?" he asked, kindly. "There's a small town in about ten minutes. You should be able to find a bathroom somewhere."
She giggled. "I'm fine," she reassured him. "Just... frustrated," she added meaningfully as his eyes went back to the road.
Her mind picked up where it had left off.
The kiss had ended and they had begun to talk, to really talk, about her relationship with Oz, then with Tara, and how she really felt about her life, and most importantly what she'd learned about herself after seeing him singing in the Bronze, and why those feelings had grown stronger, not weaker, in the months since. He'd been reluctant at first, but eventually he'd started to talk too, about his life in Sunnydale, Jenny, Olivia, why he'd been ready to go home, and why he'd stayed... and the fact that she'd always been a part of his life, even before he'd noticed her romantically.
That had captured her heart, the knowledge that he'd come to love their time together reasearching, reading, talking, that the fiasco of the spell to have her will done the previous year had actually opened his eyes to other things. He was so good about that spell, in a surly, brusque, 'you can jolly-well detail-my-car, Willow,' kind of way, afterward. But that was Giles. So deep, not willing to reveal himself or his real feelings to anyone.
Their talking had continued late into the night, and there had been tenderness, caresses and more kisses...
She sighed, still amazed that he felt the same way about her as she did about him, and amazed that their lives had paralleled each other as much as they had. She's been looking for affection, unconditional and uncomplicated affection and an escape from loneliness... and had accepted it from Tara. And Giles had admitted exactly the same thing about Oliva...
Willow sighed again. They had both been lonely, rejected in different ways, Giles by his Slayer, she by her first lover, but the pain had been just as deep.
Giles had refused to take her back to the apartment that night, or to do anything but be with her, work with her and enjoy each other's company in the few weeks since then. He was adamant that they would not rush into anything. There had been too much pain, too much hurt, he'd said. There had to be time, for both of them, to part from their respective lovers, to consider what they were doing. Giles had wanted her to be absolutely certain of her feelings for him... no reservations, no ifs, no buts.
There never had been, but she loved him too much to push the issue. It was a part of what made him who he was, that he cared enough to wait. Wait... she wriggled again and a sigh... more like a whimper... escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Predictably, his head snapped around. "Willow? There is something wrong!"
She grinned at him. "Okay, you got me," she admitted mischievously, "I want you, Mister Giles, so bad I can't sit still... you've made me wait so long for you... and I can't wait any longer!"
He gave a crack of laughter, but his colour was high. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he told her when the laughter subsided. "You had to have time to be certain, to change your mind if you wanted to. But it won't be long now, I promise."
"Stuffy," she teased. "I didn't need more than five minutes after you told me," she told him.
He took a hand off the wheel and caressed her cheek with it. She sighed again and he let his fingers trail down to her throat, smiling when she groaned.
"Poor darling," he said softly and caressed her throat, the curve of her breasts, with the same gentle fingers. When he finally had to take them back to steer, she was flushed and breathing hard.
Almost naughtily, her eyes went to his lap and she grinned. "Poor darling, yourself," she growled and slid a hand onto his thigh, heard his sharp intake of breath as she trailed her fingertips up his pants leg to his groin.
"Willow," he breathed. "I'm driving."
"Multi-task," she drawled and let the fingers trace the new, straining contours of his jeans.
His breathing grew faster and shallower and he shifted in his seat as she continued to caress him.
"God," he gasped. "Minx! Stop that until I have two hands and a mouth to reciprocate with!"
Willow giggled. "You asked for it. If we don't get there soon, I might not make it," she added, in a pout, but didn't remove her fingers.
Giles grinned. He loved it when those red lips pouted.
It was, in fact, another forty-five perilous minutes, in which Giles almost drove off the road once, gave a truck pulling a horse float a terrible fright not ten minutes after that, and drew the line with a swift smack on the hand, at his prospective lover's attempt to undo his zipper...
The riding resort came into view just as the sun peeked through the only gap left in the early evening sky. It was beautiful, lots of white rails and green and white painted buildings, rolling grassy fields and healthy, content looking horses. The main building was very large. Willow giggled to herself. It did, in fact, look a lot like the Ponderosa.
The guest quarters were arranged around the main building, each with a sheltered walkway to and from, and there was a huge barn, several blocks of stables and extensive outdoor entertaining areas.
"I'm guessing you don't want me to enquire about an evening ride?" Giles asked dryly as the car slid to a halt in the reception area.
Willow hit his arm. "One word about going anywhere outside of our room today and horse riding is all you'll be doing this weekend!"
They both laughed and Giles picked up his wallet to go and organize everything.
"Wow," Willow said softly when the door to their room swung open.
Giles smiled. He'd asked for the best, wanted the best, and contrary to what he'd told Willow, he'd poured over every inch of the literature for the place, to make certain it was the absolute best.
She bounced on the king-sized bed as he put down their bags then caught sight of the bathroom in the mirror than ran across on wall of the room and took off to investigate.
"Giles, you'll never guess what they've got in here... !" She squealed excitedly.
He smiled indulgently. "What have you found? Bubble bath?"
"No, silly!" she cried, racing back out to leap into his arms. "A hot-tub... our very own hot-tub! You must have known... about all of this... " her eyes lighted on the bottle of champagne in the bucket on the breakfast table, and the crystal glasses. "You did... " she whispered. "Oh Giles... "
He had no trouble holding her slender body against his as they kissed, nor did he have any trouble carrying her to the bed, or drawing off her sweater, sliding off her jeans, appreciating the way her breathing raced out of control, her cheeks glowed like cherries and the way she made small noises as he caressed her.
She could see his pants straining to hold the evidence of his desire as he turned back after dropping her jeans on the floor, and in moments she moved to unbuckle his belt and draw down the zipper.
Giles closed his eyes. They'd waited so long and he wanted her so very badly... he'd dreamed of her touch, even the feel of her breath on his skin, and now he was so aroused he felt seventeen again, in peril of embarrassing himself just from a caress or a touch.
Willow pushed the jeans off his hips and grinned at the size of the bow in his boxers.
"No prizes for guessing what you're thinking," she teased as he kicked his shoes off and stepped out of his pants. "My turn again," she added when he was done, and slowly drew the shorts down, so that her prize was released.
It was her turn to take a deep breath. She hadn't been with a man in a long time... and that man had been just a boy... with a boy's... circumcised... size. She swallowed, her loins overheating with desire and heart beating a little faster at the thought of what it was going to do to her soon. Then she reached out and stroked him, heard his shuddering moan, and smiled before bending her head. Soon she had him yelling and gasping, to the point where he suddenly took her by the shoulders and lifted her to kiss her mouth hard.
"What?" she gasped when he lifted his head.
"You're too good," he rasped. "I want us to do this together... " He pulled off his sweater, and the T shirt beneath, and threw them away before laying her down on the bed, his mouth exploring hers, then her face, her ear, before his lips played along her throat, pausing only to nip once over carotid artery. The touch was so erotic that her whole body lifted off the bed when he did it. Then he was carrying on down to explore and caress the soft curves of her small breasts, using all of his experience to tease the small peaks to a hardness that rivalled his own, and to make her cries even more desperate than his had been. Then, when it seemed she could take no more, he continued, kissing and trailing his tongue over her soft belly until he reached her warm centre.
He stopped after making her crazy kissing and running the tip of his tongue over the sensitive flesh of her groin. Instead, he caressed her warm folds with the tips of his fingers, smiling as she actually screamed at her body's response to the first direct stimulation of her sex. He did it again and listened to her panting gasps, knowing exactly what he was doing. The third time he allowed his index finger to part her and slip down over her now straining desire, caressing the silky flesh beneath it, before moving down to her very damp opening so that she bucked and shuddered with pleasure.
"Giles!" she groaned hoarsely, desperately.
He moved over her with barely restrained need. "I'm here, love," he whispered, caressing the red locks off her face and kissing her softly as his knee caressed her thighs even further apart and he came to her.
"Oh God... " she whispered as the heat of his tip brushed against her, and groaned a long, demanding groan as her hips shifted and tilted up towards him, trying to bring her waiting womanhood closer.
Giles closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. He'd waited so long for this moment it was all he could do to control his desire enough to show her how much he wanted her, needed her, loved her...
He kissed her again and knew he couldn't wait any longer. He took her the way he'd always dreamed... slowly, sensuously... sliding into her warm, vice-like passage so slowly, so unbearably slowly, that their groans were equally wanting, and hoarse with exquisite pleasure.
"Giles, please," Willow whimpered when he'd filled her. "Please... !"
He started to move slowly, to make love to her, but she surprised him, not just with the vehemence of her cries but the way she rose to him, moved against him.
"Please!" she repeated, moving her hips, desperately, obviously incredibly aroused.
"Oh God, love," he breathed, and proceeded to take her, their frenzied lovemaking carrying them into a kind of ecstasy neither of them had ever known before.
Giles thought he'd stopped breathing somewhere along the way, as he continued to plunge into her, feeling her hands raking his back, her heels raking the backs of his thighs as she tried to give even more, take even more, until suddenly she was writhing and whimpering and thrusting her pelvis hard into his.
It was too much for Giles and he thrust into her one last time, his orgasm almost tearing out of him, such was the force of it. Beneath him Willow was arching and screaming out her own completion, her eyes rolled back with the force of her own climax. It was a long time before they both came to rest, exhausted, and immediately moved into each other's arms.
Willow buried herself in his chest and he held her fiercely, as though each of them was claiming the other, reassuring the other.
Above the red head, Giles kissed the silky hair and closed his eyes again. She wanted him, she desired him, and she loved him. He shook with the depth of his relief. She had instinctively resolved his last fear, his last terror... that she might have regretted... might have drawn away from him... after.
"I love you," he heard her whisper, and crushed her to him, as though he might never let go.
"And I love you," he breathed into her hair, overwhelmed by his feelings. "My sweet love, I need you... so very much... "
Willow shifted and put her arms around his neck, kissed his closed eyes, his nose, and his mouth.
"It's okay," she whispered tenderly. "It's okay. I love you so much, Rupert. Forever and ever... "
The soft green eyes opened and looked up at her, emotion blurring them. "Willow... " he whispered, the word trembling and caressing at the same time.
They stayed together, held each other into the night, before finally slipping into a deep, contented slumber.
Giles woke in the morning to find himself alone, but not for long. Even before he could think about getting out of bed, the door to their room opened. He squinted against the morning sunlight pouring through it, until it closed again.
"Willow?"
"Hey cutie. You looked so peaceful, snoring away there, that I thought I'd go find us some breakfast. The kitchen's not open yet, but the nice man there made us a tray."
Giles blinked as she slid the tray onto their bed and uncovered its contents. Tea, coffee, croissants, butter, currant jelly, and bowls of sliced fruit.
"Not much," she said ruefully, "but he says there'll be hot food galore at six-thirty."
He smiled at her sunny face. "It could be ashes and I wouldn't give a damn," he told her. "Come here."
She giggled and crawled onto the bed, threw her arms around his neck as they kissed passionately.
"Good morning," he said, kissing her nose when their lips parted.
"Good morning," she echoed. "So, not hungry?" she asked.
"Plenty hungry," he growled, "and not just for breakfast... "
It was just as well the breakfast was a cold one. It was another hour before it got eaten.