__Willow's Diary, Day Three__
By Monique and David Barton
Dear Diary,
I miss him already. Okay, I am so not going to go there. There
will be plenty of time for that... Lots and lots and lots and lots
of time.... Okay! Changing the subject now!
Let's see.... my last entry ended yesterday morning. Sunday
morning.. now *that* was a good morning!
It was exactly the way I'd always pictured Sunday was supposed
to be. We lolled around. Lolling is highly underrated, if you ask
me. Especially, when you can loll with someone like Rupert.
I think it was past noon when we finally convinced ourselves to
get out of the cabin. Getting out of bed was hard enough, but
leaving the cottage... being with other people.... I didn't really
want to do it. But Giles seemed to want to show me something
of England. I think he was afraid I'd feel cheated somehow if I
didn't get to see a little bit of the country after having come all
this way. But I didn't mind. Not at all. I came to see him and
well... to see him. Period. But he sort of got a bee in his bonnet,
now that's a funny image! Rupert in a bonnet! Sorry... I'm sort of
teetering on the edge of tittering here. Sort of hysterical adjacent.
But I'm fine, rally. I am not going to dwell. I'm not a dweller... moving
on! Where was I? Oh, yeah. The cottage, going out on Sunday...
He seemed to want to so agreed to go out and about for a few
hours. I would have been content to never leave the cottage,
but there is always the upside of coming back home... coming
back home. I love that feeling. Of course, you have to leave to
be able to return... and maybe walking around the village was
a good thing. It made me want him even more. I didn't even think
that was possible, but darned if it wasn't!
Seeing him all bundled up, just reminded me how much fun
it would be to undress him again. Listen to me! I'm a sex fiend!
I've been with him for two days... and I'm an instant sex fiend.
Where was I?
Oh, the village. It was less than a half an hour's walk from
the cottage... and it was something straight out of movie or
an old book. It was fantastic.... the definition of quaint. And
okay, so maybe it was sort of touristy and built to sucker the
suckers... well.. then slap my fanny and call me a sucker,
cause it worked on me.
It was just so... I don't know.. English.... and it just made the
fantasy of us being a real "us".. being together for more than
just a weekend... it made that seem all the more real.. Like
this was the town we lived in.. where we went to market and
would meet at the pub.
The pub! Oh, that's a story unto itself... but first things first...
We were walking along the street, just window shopping and
the people all said hello and everything. They smiled at us, I
guess they thought we were newlyweds.
Giles sort had his arm draped over my shoulder, like it had
been there a thousand times before... like this was how we
always walked when we were out together.
And I loved that.. that casual familiarity (built in the record
time of 2 days! - well, okay, we have known each other for
five years, but that was a totally different kind of knowing..
if you know what I mean? Heehee.. sorry...)... Where was I?
Oh... I loved the way his arm rested on my shoulder, his hand
dangling just in front. Occasionally, he'd barely bend his wrist and
caress my neck or cheek... and not just to get my attention..
although it did that!... but sometimes... just cause... just to
touch me.
And as much as I loved that feeling... I absolutely adored
the feeling of him pulling me closer to him... just after we'd
shared an inside joke, or I'd said something he'd call cheeky,
or when we'd see something beautiful and sigh at the same
time or when someone passing by would give me a smile that
lingered just a bit too long for Rupert's liking. I think that's the
moment I loved the most.
I know it isn't exactly de rigueur for the modern woman, but
I love the way he... I don't know... claims me. Possesses me?
It's not condescending, not in the least. It doesn't imply any
sort of lack on my part, in fact... just the opposite. It tells me
how much he sees in me. And I know it only comes from
passion and desire. I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his
voice.. and feel it in his touch.
It's not there all the time, or maybe it is and he just doesn't
show it, or I don't see it, but... there are moments when he
lets the world know that I'm his... and I have to admit... I love
it. I love that feeling.
I know, as an independent woman blah-blah-blah, I'm
supposed to resist that sort of neanderthal-woman-mine
deal, but I can't help it. Just the fact that he actually worries
that someone else might want to carry me off to their cave,
makes me feel ... beautiful... I know it's totally lame, but it's
true.
I love being his and I love it when he lets the world know
that's the way it's going to stay. It's not like he makes a
big out of it... it's always subtle things. Like if we're walking
along, like I said, and a man looks at me, Giles just tightens
his grip a bit and his eyes flash. It's very grrrrrr.
Or when we're making love... wow... when we're making love...
I can't believe I get to write that in my diary and not have to
follow it with "I wish" or "someday". How lucky am I?
I love the feeling....like when we're making love and his body
covers mine so completely, or the way his arms hold me, or
his hands touch me... each moment tells me that I'm his.
Sometimes I think if he could put up a sign "This Willow
Belongs To Rupert Giles"... he would.. Goddess knows,
I'd love to put one on him. But then, I guess that's what
marriage is for, isn't it? And we're not ready for that...
are we? Am I?
Wow.... Marriage. Not that he's asked me or that we've
even ever talked about it, but wow...
I guess we need to take things one step at a time. I mean,
that would be the logical, adult thing to do... We've really
just gotten together and there are so many things about
each other we don't know. But now that I've started, I can't
stop thinking about it.
It's probably just the whole weekend playing on my mind
anyway.. you know, the perfect cottage, the perfect lover,
the perfect weekend... living together in a state of perfection..
I know it isn't real, not really real... I know that the real world...
the hellmouthy real world isn't like that... but it was nice to
dream for a bit.
Whoa... I am so getting ahead of myself here, aren't I? And
that, by the way, getting ahead of yourself, I mean.. if you
think about it.. is a pretty good trick. If I'm ahead of me,
then I'm also behind me.. and if I'm behind me.. how can
I be ahead of me?
Sorry... I'm feeling a little bit... tense... and when I'm
tense, I babble. Sort of like when I'm not tense. Basically,
I babble. But then I don't have to tell you about that do I?
You get my first run babbles.
Anyway... all I was saying was .. if Giles did want to put
a sold sign on me.. I wouldn't mind... not one little bit.
Sigh... okay, back to reality...
The village.... which really seems more like a fairy tale
place as time carries it farther and farther away... and
my memory does that thing where it makes the good things
great... not that there was any part of this weekend that
wasn't great. It was.. every single solitary minute of it...
was perfect.
Anyway, we were walking along when I noticed this
crazy old sign... "The Heart of the Forest"... the writing
was squiggly and well, after our New Forest adventure...
it was impossible to resist. Ends up, that it's the town pub...
and from Giles' expression a welcome sight. He said
something about the walk making him dry.. so we went in.
Now, dark beer is just gross. I'm not a beer drinker, so I
know I'm not the best judge of these things.. but beer is so
bitter anyway.. and then the dark stuff like Giles was
drinking.. is just... blech.... So I had a glass of wine.
The bartender sort of chuckled at me as he searched
for a bottle. I guess they don't get many orders for wine.
We sat at this little table and watched a few guys play
darts. Well, there was more talking than actual dart throwing,
but they were so cute... at least I thought so. Brian and
John... or John and Brian, depending on who you asked.
They were really funny and once they found out I was an
American, they made a great show of being British. A few
pints later, they were trying to convince me that it was
terribly important, vital even, that I learn to play darts.
I thought they were hysterical, I think Rupert erred
somewhere between mildly amusing and beginning to annoy
me side of things, but he saw how much fun I was having
and indulged me as he indulged in a few more pints.
To be honest, I couldn't really understand half of what they
were saying, but it was like an old vaudeville routine. I
imagine every woman that walks in is privy to the same
show, but they were good at it and made me feel like I was
special... and a glance over at Rupert as he watched us
reminded me that I was special... to him. I love how he
watched me, but then again, he is a professional.
We were all having a good time. I actually managed to
hit the dartboard a few times. And then it all seemed to
change really quickly. One minute Giles was leaning
back in his chair, his long legs stretched out like a big
cat and then suddenly he was behind me taking the
darts out of my hands and saying something about that
being enough lessons for one day.
Giles led me back over to our table and pulled me into
his lap. He said that he didn't want to share me anymore
and smiled. But the smile never quite lit his eyes. There
was a subtle sort of intensity to him, a tenseness that
wasn't there earlier. I don't know what triggered it and
I wouldn't even realize what he was really thinking about
until much later. I guess I was too caught up in the
moment, to realize that the moment, our moment,
was almost over.
And then he kissed me. I remember being caught off
guard by the power in it, the passion. It seemed to come
out of nowhere. I'd been expecting a playful kiss, but
this wasn't that at all. It was full of desire and even a little
sorrow. I was confused, but well.. I was kissing Giles, so
I sort of let go of everything and let myself get swept
away by the feel of him.
It's amazing how quickly things changed really. It was like
a flashfire. One minute we were in the pub, and everything
was light and fun and then all I could think about was
getting him alone and I could tell from the look in his eyes
and the way he held me, that he was thinking the same thing.
We made rather hasty goodbyes and he pulled me out of
the pub and then there, right there on the street, he kissed
me again. He sort of pinned me up against the wall and...
wow... I think I even said wow, cause he laughed a little
and smiled a bit sheepishly, but that passed quickly and
that subtle sort of intensity returned.
Giles was quiet as we walked home. I asked what he
was thinking and he just said he was thinking about how
much he loved me. I knew there was more to it, but I
didn't press. Maybe I didn't want to know.
No, that's not true. I think I already knew, but just didn't
want to think about it. I wasn't ready for it to end.
I'm still not ready.
When we got back to the cottage, I don't think I even
finished one sentence before he was kissing me again
and leading to the bedroom.
I started to take off my jacket, but he stopped me. He
said he wanted to do it, that he wanted to do everything
for me... anything for me. And the way he looked at me.
I can just see his face. If I close my eyes, I can remember
every detail. There were so many emotions. He looked so
sad and so beautiful all at the same time.
And the way he moved, the way he touched me, with
such tenderness.. it makes me want to cry just thinking
about it. For hours and hours we lay together, like time
had stopped... and then somewhere in the night, time
started again and we both felt it running out.. It was like
time was moving faster and faster and we were racing
along with it. Making love with an urgency, a desperation
to fill each second with a lifetime.
It wasn't any less tender, the way we made love, just
achingly so now. Each kiss, each caress held an echo of
despair.... bittersweet, melancholy kisses gave way to a
sort of sleep as exhaustion finally claimed us both. I don't
think either of us really slept. I remember thinking that if
I didn't really fall asleep, I wouldn't have to wake up and
somehow then I'd never have to leave... like I could stop
the sun from coming up if I just wanted it enough.
Oh, I wanted it enough. But the sun rose anyway and
brought with it our last morning together.
It wasn't the way I wanted it to be. Rushed, fumbling
about. We were running late and had to scramble to
get on our way. My flight wasn't until 10:30am, but we
still had the 2 hour drive to Heathrow. I wish they were
a long two hours, but they flew by in a blur. I just sort
of clung to Rupert's side as he went on about how I had
to make sure to drink lots of water on the plane so I didn't
get dehydrated... and that I really should eat something.
We'd gotten a little caught up in each other last night had
forgotten dinner and he insisted that I eat breakfast. He
just went on an on about the importance of eating well
and that I should take better care of myself. I just listened
to him, I heard the words, but more than that I was just
trying to cherish being with him.
I didn't want to give in to the sadness. I didn't want to
cheat myself out of a moments happiness.. but I couldn't
help it. As each minute passed instead of relishing it, I
mourned its passing and wasted them.. I can't believe I
wasted so many precious minutes with him.
We'd made such good time to the airport, we had nearly
an hour before my flight left. Giles, of course, said I had
to eat. I told him I wasn't hungry, but he seemed intent on
making me eat. We found a small cafe and I did manage
few mouthfuls, but...
We just sort of sat there, not saying anything really. It was
so depressing. I vaguely remember watching the people
stream past and wondering if they were coming home or
leaving home... or were they like me... doing both at the
same time.
I'd managed not to cry.. much... but then I sort of sniffled
and Rupert pulled me tighter into his embrace, just the way
I love... and my tears came. I think I actually blubbered. He
didn't really say much, just made these wonderful soothing
sounds and held me. I told him I was going to miss him
sooooooo much and he just pulled me even closer. He didn't say
anything, but I knew... I could feel that he felt the same way.
And then they called my flight.
We both got up very slowly, I was still clinging to him, and
we walked silently over to my gate. This was it.
I didn't want to go. I mean, I know it's not like we'd never
see each other again, but it felt like it... It is only 6,000
miles, right? 6,000 miles? Ohhh... I am not going to lose
it. Keep it together, Willow!
Okay.... they called my flight again and we'd finally run
out of time... no more time.
We kissed again.. quickly... I don't think either of us would
have been able to pull apart if we'd stayed touching much
longer. I gave him my best smile and turned away. I walked
up the gangway and managed not to fall apart completely
until I reached my seat.
About 20 minutes later England and Rupert disappeared
behind me, the clouds swallowing them both whole.
And if I weren't in such gut-wrenching my life is over
sort of pain, I'd probably see the beauty in it. You know
how in the movies, when the star-crossed lovers have to
say goodbye and it's so sad, but really beautiful. Well, let
me tell you from experience. It stinks on ice. There's
nothing beautiful about it. It's just pain and loneliness and
heartache. I am never watching one of those movies again.
I know, I'm just being dramatic, but I can't help it. We've
been apart for less than an hour and I think I'm going crazy.
I think I can actually feel my heart breaking. I wonder if the
stewardess knows how to use one of those portable
defibrillators cause my heart could stop beating at any time.
Goddess, I miss him.
But, it's not forever, right? I have to keep telling myself that.
It's not forever. He has things to do in England. Obligations.
I have a life I can't just abandon in Sunnydale. I understand
that.. he understands that.. but I hate it. I don't want it to be
like this. I don't want to wait until next time...
Oh God! We didn't talk about next time. Why didn't we talk
about a next time? We should have talked about, even just
a little. Why didn't we talk about it?
Okay... I am not going to freak out. Freakathons are frowned
on in enclosed spaces, like planes.. I can respect that. I am
not going to freak out... I mean, in first class you cry your
eyes out and people just think your deep, but do it in business
class and you're just annoying.
I can do this. I can do whatever it takes, right? I've lived my
whole life till now without him... I can last a few months...
Can't I? However long it takes, I can wait. I can. I can. I can.
Goddess, give me strength.
* * *