Hard to believe, but imagination was Wesley's strong suit. This night, he used his talents to make his apartment look like a romantic hideaway that still reflected his character and personality. Over the years, he'd collected a few statues of the Roman gods, one of them, a life size Venus. He gave Venus a prominent place, draped ivy around some of the statues and set an old fashioned standing mirror in the corner of the livingroom. With the lights dimmed, and short tea light candles flickering and reflecting in the mirror, there was an outdoor feel to the room. Even the soft orchestra music complemented the atmosphere as it included the occasional chirp like notes.
He'd moved the couch to the wall, then set a small dining table in the middle of the room. His mother's crystal and silver shined brightly and made the table most inviting.
The kitchen was a bit of a problem. It was rather small and there wasn't much surface area, but he managed. The fish was in the broiler, he had potatoes in the oven, and was sautéing the vegetables on the stove top, when he heard the door.
Quickly washing his hands, he strode to the door, took a deep breath, then opened it, giving Willow a genuinely welcoming smile. The woman took his breath away and he just couldn't understand why he hadn't seen it years ago.
In the twenty-four hours since she’d seen Wesley and they’d agreed to a regular dinner date, Willow had been a bundle of indecision. What to wear? What to bring? What to expect? But when the door open and she met his eyes, her insecurities melted away and her mouth curved into a warm smile.
“Hi,” she greeted him, holding out a bottle in each hand. “I… uhm, I brought white and red. I couldn’t decide.”
"I'm certain we can get through both bottles," he answered, hesitating only for a split second, before bending down to kiss her cheek. After everything they'd done with each other, it should have felt silly. It didn't.
Her smile broadened even wider at the sweetness of his gesture. As she moved into the apartment she sucked in a breath as she was swept up by the romantic atmosphere. “Wow… I… feel a little under dressed.” She’d gone back and forth on her outfit, finally settling on a simple black skirt and an emerald green blouse.
In the spirit of indecision, Willow had a bag in the car packed with three other outfits… just in case Wesley had something else in mind… or just in case she ended up staying over – even though she thought they had an unspoken understanding that it wouldn’t be that kind of date. But still, maybe she’d misunderstood his intent. She knew it was silly, but their relationship was built on such a platform of mystery and role play, she didn’t really know exactly who she was in it.
“Who knew a podcast party would feel like a moonlit gondola ride down a Venice canal?” she laughed a little nervously. He’d gone to so much trouble… was he setting up a fantasy? Was she supposed to be playing a role?
"You're perfectly dressed," he answered, his gaze dropping down to his own black jeans and blue-grey shirt. "And who knew a podcast party entailed an audio file downloaded into an apple iPod, certainly not me," he admitted with a wry grin.
Willow let out a laugh and pulled the iPod out of her purse. “Headset built for two,” she had the wire bundled up in the palm of her hand. She’d considered bringing her speaker set-up but thought that would be a bit much. She half expected he was joking about actually listening to the lecture anyway.
Following him into the kitchen, she inhaled the tantalizing aromas as Wesley went about opening one of the bottles. “Wow! It smells amazing…” she moved over to stir the vegetables that sizzled in the pan.
Seeing the two sets of ear buds, he was admittedly happy that they'd have to sit close to listen. Whether he would be able to keep his mind on the lecture was another matter entirely.
"Believe me, I've kept it as simple as I could," he said, pleased by her positive reaction. After he poured and set the glasses down, he leaned against the counter and watched her. Soft features, doe-like eyes and slender throat framed by a fluid curtain of unexpectedly red hair... sugar and spice, that was what she made him think of.
A few moments passed before he realized that staring at her would set him behind on dinner. "I'd best slice the lemons for the fish," he said, sliding behind her to get to the fridge. "Roses?"
“Roses? You mean rosemary?” Willow saw the spice rack on top of the fridge so she moved behind Wes, stretching on her tiptoes to reach it over his back as he collected the lemons.
"No," he answered, turning to find himself almost at eye level with her breasts. Thoughts of pushing her blouse up and sucking on her pink nipples tortured him. Seeing her nipples tighten under her blouse raised the stakes higher. Control... he strove for it with everything he had.
“No?” confused, she dropped her eyes to see him staring at her obvious state of arousal, which of course only heightened her own awareness of her state of arousal which had her sucking in a sharp breath that forced her chest even closer to his lips. Very slowly, she lowered herself back down so her heels clicked against the tile floor and her hands rested on his shoulders.
Straightening to his full height, he swayed toward her, but was reminded by her hands that this wasn't that sort of assignation. This was a date. He'd gone too long without one, and was about to muck this up if he wasn't careful.
Forcing himself to prevent his gaze from straying back to her chest, he smiled and reached out to push a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I meant your scent, of course... roses," he whispered, in a husky voice.
“Oh!” Willow broke out into a smile, her cheeks flush from arousal and embarrassment over her mistake. “Yes. Rosewater. In my bath…” As he straightened to his full height, her hands slide from his shoulders to his chest, palms flat and unconsciously smoothing across his shirt.
His gaze dropped to her hands. He swallowed. "Right... I'd ah... best finish the food preparation, before... before I forget what it is I'm supposed to be doing."
Slowly, he pulled away, but not before almost proposing dessert before dinner. But she deserved better. This wasn't about their darker needs. This was about getting to know her in a way he hadn't in Sunnydale. Certainly he hadn't had time when she'd visited Los Angeles and helped them with their Angelus problem. This was their chance... a chance to see whether there was anything more between them.
“Right! Okay.” Willow’s head bobbed in a nod as he pulled away. He was being good and so could she. Taking a breath, her eyes dropped to the lemons he was holding. “Okay, how about I squeeze them.”
He groaned out loud, and looked over at her. "Never realized you were quite this flirtatious," he joked, knowing she hadn't intentionally made his entire body clench with need.
“What?” she stared blankly, not sure what she’d done. When it dawned on her, her cheeks stained pink. “No! I meant the lemons,” she grabbed them out of his hand, laughing despite her embarrassment. “I’ll squeeze. You better do something about the asparagus.” She pointed at the pan that was starting to smoke. As she moved to tend to the fish she idly wondered if it was true what they said about asparagus. Unfortunately, if they stayed true to their unspoken promise not to fall into bed, she wasn’t going to find out tonight.
He chuckled and went back to work. She certainly had a way of always making him laugh, and he had to admit, he wasn't one to laugh often.
They worked well together in the kitchen, if one didn't count the times they brushed together then stopped working and looked like deer stuck in the headlights. At least the suffering was mutual, if that was any comfort when his body wanted to override his mind, and show her in other ways how much he liked her.
Dinner went well. They talked history and witchcraft, poetry and even managed to discuss the class she was teaching on Sexual Overtone In Mysticism And The Occult. Of course there was innuendo, both intentional and accidental. And a few kisses... between courses... he told her it was traditional... somewhere in the world.
Willow couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun over dinner. She knew Wesley was brilliant, but she really had no idea he was so well versed on so many subjects that interested her. At first she thought he was just humoring her, but the conversation was so easy that she completely relaxed.
When they’d both eaten their fill, she picked up their plates to take them into the kitchen. “It’s almost time for the podcast. Why don’t you us some wine?” she suggested.
"Mmm," he agreed. Watching her in the kitchen, he poured the last of the first bottle of wine into their glasses. Only then did he realize they'd been at the dinner table for far longer than it took to eat.
"This was much better than eating at my desk," he told her. "Leave the dishes."
Willow turned and sidled up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he turned to face her with the glasses in hand. Tilting her head back, she gazed up at him and just smiled. Without a word, she took the glass out of his hand and headed back out into the living room, tossing a look over her shoulder. “Coming?”
"Oh yes." He followed close behind her and settled down on the couch, putting his arm around her shoulder as she tinkered with the iPod. "Do you realize you bite your lower lip when you're concentrating?" he asked. He knew it might be disconcerting, but he really did love it when her color rose.
“I do not!” she let out a “hmph” and handed him one of the ear buds. Kicking off her heels, she tucked her bare feet up under her and snuggled comfortably under his arm as she put her own bud in her ear and settled in to listen to the podcast.
Interesting as the lecture was, it couldn't compare with the impromptu passion they'd shared in the garden and Wesley couldn't bring himself to regret that moment. As he listened, he stroked her bare arm, and thought about how interesting and complex she was... one moment as sweet as home made pie, the next a vixen who could drive a man... Wesley... to his knees. A student, a teacher, a lover... he could get used to this. Oddly, the thought didn't scare him.
At a certain point, the professor started to spew information that he and Willow both knew from experiences with the supernatural to be untrue. He took his ear bud out, and watched her do the same. Then he caught himself watching her take a sip of her wine, his gaze locked on her throat as she swallowed. Suddenly he was filled with all sorts of unspoken yearnings.
Willow felt his eyes on hers like a hot wind blowing across her flesh. Her eyes slide sideways first and she smiled, licking her lips before setting the glass on the end table and curling into him, resting her head on his chest as she idly plucked at the buttons of her shirt. “So you’re not a virgin anymore…” she said referring to his first podcast experience. “How does it feel?”
"What?" His eyes widened and he wracked his brain, wondering which of their assignations she might be referring to, and why? "I.... oh, a pod virgin... it feels..." he felts his hand on his chest and lost his concentration.
“Feels…?” Willow tilted her head up and saw that he was focused on her fingers. “Oh! Sorry!” She drew upright, and leaned back against the arm of the couch, uncurling her legs so her feet draped across his thighs, essentially holding him in place. Nice and safe.
“So yeah, iPods are pretty cool. Not just for music either.” She rattled off several weekly radio shows she liked to download and other uses, fully aware that she was babbling but not really knowing how to stop.
If she thought she'd improved the situation any by putting her legs over his, she'd been watching too many cartoons. Instead, she was only making him want to touch, and stroke, and to move his hands slowly up her shapely thighs.
Although he answered her, he wasn't aware of the half of what he said, nor the half of what she told him. All he knew was he was battling forces of nature... urges... needs... desire. Finally, he broke down. "No. Cool is not at all what I'd call it. This."
His gaze dropped to her mouth and he knew he had to have some sort of relief. "Willow," he rasped, reaching for her as he moved in to slant his mouth over hers.
Eyes widening, Willow sucked in a sharp breath as the lust filled urgency in his voice triggering vivid memories of their dark encounters. Acting on pure impulse, she shifted forward so her lips met his, crushing against his mouth in a heated kiss.
Wes swept his tongue inside her mouth, dueling with hers, moving with increasing frequency as his need doubled and redoubled. He'd promised himself this night would be different, that it wouldn't be about slaking their lust and taking what they needed. And here he was wanting to push her back, to push her legs apart... to put his hand into her panty and make her scream for him. The urge was so strong... so fucking strong that his hand was already moving up her thigh, in the direction of his thoughts.
Willow was dizzy with desire and her body burned, throbbing with need. Just one touch… just to quench the fire… set her back to rights so she could breathe again. Her hand moved over his, guiding it up the inside of her leg as she rotated her hips.
“Please… Wes…” but as his name passed her lips she was reminded that this was a date. A real date, not a dark fantasy. “Oh godoh… uhg,” she ground out unintelligibly as she gripped his hand, locking it in place. “Wes…” she croaked, looking at him and swallowed hard.
She was hot and needy, he was hot and ready... they were grown adults... they could do this, fuck themselves into oblivion, and then make up for it at breakfast. He lifted his head, about to explain ... to wheedle... to persuade, but something in her eyes stopped him.
"Right... just some kissing, then," he said, swallowing his need and moving his hand out from under hers. "I'm sorry about... you're just..." he tried to get his thoughts together. "You're in my blood Willow. It's difficult to take a step back after all this. It's difficult but we'll make it."
Willow nodded wordlessly at first, biting her lip to keep from wrapping her legs around his waist and grinding against him to grapple for release. But slowly her desperate need gave way insecurity and she licked her lips – they’d gone suddenly dry.
“Wes… it’s okay,” her voice was small and a little shaky. “I-if you don’t want more than what we’ve had. It’s okay. We can just… be each other’s fantasies.” As much as it pained her to make the offer, she knew she’d already fallen too hard and the thought of losing him altogether was more than she could bear. If she couldn’t have him all to herself, at least she would have the Dark Knight.
"No." The protest was hot on his lips and did not require any thought. "I’ve found that things that are fought for are the things that mean something in the end. Just... don't tempt me," his mouth tugged to the side in a half grin. "I'm still only a man."
Inspired to do the right thing, even if his body protested, even if every last nerve ending in his body demanded more, he locked his hands on the arm of the sofa on either side of her, and started the longest, most frustrating, most painfully good kiss he'd ever had the fortune or misfortune to have.
Willow’s heart slammed against her chest as an entirely new thrill rushed through her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she relaxed into his tender kiss, luxuriating in the careful attention he paid to her. When he drew back and looked into her eyes, she lost herself, soaring into his soul with no thought as to where she might land.
* * *
[Six months later]
The Hyperion was decked out like a proper working hotel hosting a wedding. The gleaming banisters were decorated with ivy and cream colored roses, candles were placed strategically around the large lobby and a catered bar was set up where the bar tender was prepared to make exotic drinks. Even the guest rooms were now occupied, since the Buffy crew had traveled from Rome to be present at the wedding that had shocked them.
On the other hand, Angel and his crew weren't as surprised. They'd seen small changes in Wesley. Times when he positively looked happy to be getting away from his musty scrolls and books. And of course Angel was only too aware for the reasons. He'd been ready to confront Wes and tell him to stop being so high school, when the ex-watcher had finally brought his girlfriend around.
Angel investigations had quickly absorbed Willow into the group. Like the rest of them, she'd changed a lot. Each of them had gained a harder edge. And now that the original Scooby gang was here, Angel saw that they were no exception.
The wedding ceremony was to take place in the solarium, and everyone was assembled. Dressed in the spiffiest tux ever, Xander grinned at Buffy. "I guess Will lucked out," he nodded toward Angel, sitting with the rest of the small audience, instead of in Xander's place in the center of the garden waiting to perform 'best man' duties for Wes.
"Yeah, she said she couldn't choose between us, though... I'm not seeing you in this dress," the maid of honor said, grinning at Xander. Angel had been nixed as the best man because Willow and Wesley wanted wedding pictures. Of course Spike had ribbed the broody one good and plenty over being bested for best man rights by Xander, of all people. In the end, it got Willow her dream of having her best friends standing next to her for the most important day of her life.
Nudging Lorne with anticipation, Fred glanced over her shoulder to see if they were coming yet. When she and Cordy had left Willow in Angel’s office, she’d looked perfect, and the scientist couldn't see that she needed any more primping. Since Giles' traveling plans had gone wrong, Wes had gone to collect his bride so they could walk down the isle together. In her heart though, Fred hoped Giles would make it. What bride didn't want to be walked own the aisle by a father or a father-figure?
"I can't believe I allowed them to take me away for a three day bachelor bash," Wes said, his gaze following his bride's every move in front of the mirror that had been set up in Angel's office. "I was bored to death..." In light of his real life escapades, watching bad porn and listening to Lorne's running commentary hadn't done a thing for him.
However, the absence of Willow in his bed had made him edgy and impatient. And blast if her friends hadn't kept him away during this entire day. "You look beautiful," he said, looking at the picture of white clad innocence in front of him. The problem was, other images were colliding with the vision before him.
Willow couldn’t believe it was her wedding day. Tiny wildflowers dotted red hair piled on top of her head with little ringlets falling loosely around her face. Her dress was elegantly simple, but it was the “something new” that she wore underneath that had her whole body humming with anticipation as she looked into Wesley’s reflection in the mirror.
“And you look positively dashing,” she spun around and tugged at his bowtie before tilting her face up to meet his eyes. “Can you believe we’re actually doing this?”
"Oh yes, I do believe it. Sometimes fate deals a good hand. In my case, it was a great hand," he said leaning down to kiss her. The light touch of their mouths sent searing heat through his system. Abruptly, he pulled back. He wasn't going to ruin this day for her, even if he had to battle his hormones until the moment they got into the limousine.
Startled by his abrupt withdrawal, Willow blinked and frowned, all her fears flooding to the surface at once. “Wes… do you think it’s going to change things… I mean… you think we’ll eventually get bored?” She bit her lip.
"No!" He all but shouted, pulling her back into his arms. Almost. "It's just... I... Well I haven't seen you, or been with you. I'm finding it a bit difficult to keep my hands off... and I know you want the pictures to come out just right, and all I want is..." his voice grew husky with desire. "Right... so eyes forward," he looked away. "And after the wedding, I will show you ten ways I know that we'll never be bored. And none of them have anything to do with sex." The other fifty did.
Willow shimmied forward with a playful smirk, tugging at his lapels. “Who said they shouldn’t have anything to do with sex…? How about a little sneak preview of that top ten list.”
He closed his eyes, clenching his teeth together against the feelings she evoked. "You're like powdered sugar over red chili pepper, and I can't quite work out which I'm addicted to more." Swallowing, he opened his eyes and gave a strained smile. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at stopping at the hors d'oeuvres but I am salivating over them." He tugged her just that little bit closer, to prove the truth of his words.
Willow’s hips rolled into his and she leaned back, leveraging his hold around her waist to lift her leg and kick the door shut behind him with spiked heel of her shoe. “Pig in the blanket?” she offered suggestively as she rocked her thigh along his hip. “Or maybe one of those little pastry puffs?”
"Cream?" The slide of her body sent need slamming straight to his gut. His hands went to her hips, held her in a vice like grip. Whether it was to keep her from coming nearer, or from pulling away, was up in the air. And yet his gaze dropped, trailing over the rounded contours of her breasts peeking out above her dress. He wanted to unbutton the row of pearls holding the whole thing together. "Do you realize your body is an instrument of torture?"
Willow shifted her weight so her hip rotated against his groin, tilting her head back and looking up at him with a playful grin. “And you know all about instruments of torture… don’t you…” She baited him into taking the role of dungeon master for a quick game. She knew she shouldn’t. The others were waiting. But that only added to the tension that bound them together like a rubber band about to snap.
He sucked his breath in, biting back a groan. "You just had to go and say that. Oh God Willow, I realize most people would think this is an unhealthy obsession but... I want you in all sorts of wrong ways." He couldn't manacle her hands above her head and play out another master/virgin fantasy... not here, and yet he couldn't fight the ferocious desire she'd stirred up. Moving suddenly, he pinned her wrists together behind her, forcing her to bow back and give him an eagle's eye look at the smooth expanse of her throat and chest. With his free hand, he stroked her neck, her throat, then went lower sliding his palm over her breast, then cupping it. Lowering his head, he kissed her along the same trail, then used his teeth to open two buttons.
When he moved back, he was rewarded with a glimpse of frilly white lace and the outline of her nipple standing at attention for him. "Oh God..." His cock grew hard and heavy, his skin tightened around him. He shouldn't... he really shouldn't.... but there he was, opening a few more buttons, then working on the lower ones so that her dress was falling off her shoulders, held together only at the waist, and her long, slender legs were visible too.
Falling easily into the role, Willow struggled against his grip, knowing exactly what to do and say to drive him wild. “No! Please…” she whimpered, but he held her firmly, overpowering her, deliberately fueling the heightened sensations that rippled through her. She lifted her leg to try and shove him away, but the movement allowed him to force his way between her thighs. Her imagination spun wildly and when she closed her eyes the office melded into a classic dungeon setting. The master was forcing her up against a cold stone platform and she protested, jerking against his hold.
Bright green eyes popped open and Willow’s eyes locked on Wesley’s. The wild lust in his gaze caused her to suck in a breath and a deep flush washed over her. White lace stockings and satin garters gave way to creamy white thighs. The friction of his forceful movements against her flesh was driving her mad as he pinned her in place. “Please… M’Lord… don’t hurt me.” Her head fell back and she arched into him, releasing a pained cry as his teeth scraped across her nipple.
If he'd thought a little taste would help subside the intensity of his need, he'd been sorely mistaken. Her soft pleas for mercy... combined with the glimpses he was getting of her swollen nipples under thin material, skin beneath mesh, lace framing her thighs, and slick heat sliding across his palm through the crotchless teddy... narrowed his world so that she was his sole focus. "There are things a man wants... needs," he explained, his voice thick and strained. Lifting his gaze, he stared into her eyes as he unzipped, then stepped forward, wedging his thick shaft between her thighs, at her entrance. "Do you understand?"
She shook her head mutely, wide eyes filled with fear and innocence dropped to his strong hands as he forced her thighs apart. Her whole body quaked and she could feel him touching her, throbbing against her sacred center. Her hands now free of his grip, pressed against his powerful chest in a feeble attempt to shove him back.
“No… no!” her voice quivered, but her body betrayed her, slick and aching with desire. “Please Master. I’ll do anything you ask. Just don’t take my chastity…” Willow licked her lips and slowly slipped downward, preparing to take him in her mouth if he so desired. “Just tell me what you wish…”
He'd wanted to fuck her there and then, he still wanted to. If the virgin thought she could avoid the inevitable by offering herself in other ways... And yet that mouth was every so tempting. He nudged his cock against her lips. "Open it," he said harshly, gripping her shoulders even when what he wanted was to twist her hair around his fists and pull her close.
Looking up at him, she caught his eyes, holding his gaze with hers. Demanding… forceful… dominating. Willow’s lips parted at his command and a euphoric shudder rolled through her. She flicked her tongue to take the salty drop from the tip of his cock while he watched her from above. Closing her eyes Willow savored his taste before taking him into her mouth and all the way to the back of her throat in one smooth movement. When he withdrew, she worked her tongue around the tip before sucking his full length again. When he found his rhythm, she wrapped her hand around his shaft at the base so she could stroke him as he fucked her mouth.
It was all Willow could do not to reach between her own legs and pleasure herself… she wanted him so badly she thought she might climax before he even entered her. But she resisted. She wanted to play out the full fantasy… she wanted him to fully possess her.
As he fucked the silky heat of her mouth, he moved his hands up and down her shoulders and her chest, cupping her breasts... groaning as her beaded nipples scraped against his palms. She was as hot for him, as he was for her. If he found relief, and commanded her to get dressed... the next few hours would be hell for her. With a single look, he could make her hot and breathless. With a more concentrated effort, he might be able to make her come from across the room. Images of just that had him thrusting harder until he was dangerously close to the edge.
"Stand up." He gave no quarter as she looked at him with soft questioning eyes and stood up. "Suck me again..." he prevented her from going back down onto her knees. "When I'm inside you."
Her confusion brought his need to a fevered pitch. Lifting and gripping her thigh, he suddenly tugged her close. "Suck me inside," he repeated, pushing into her slick heat, driving himself inside as far as he could go. As she tightened around him, he thought he would go mad. And yet he waited, watching her face.... watching as she bit her lower lip in frustration.
Nodding submissively, Willow’s lids dropped nearly closed as she sucked in a deep breath. Taxing her well toned muscles to their limit, she flexed so tightly that her inner walls drew him deeper into her molten channel. “Does it please you… Is it as you wish, M’Lord?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, aching for him to take her over the edge.
Please him? Dear God... the way she closed and clenched around him, gripped him ... pulled him deeper inside her body, was exactly what he'd needed. "Oh yes, you're doing very well," he managed, pulling almost out of her, pulsing with just his tip inside her until he couldn't stand it. His second entrance was rougher... less controlled. He gripped her thigh, raising it higher... opening her up. Eyes locked with hers, his heart hammering against his chest in anticipation, he instructed his virgin. "Fuck me."
His demand slammed into her like a shock wave and Willow let out a soft groan, her legs synching tighter around him in response. The white satin fabric draped behind her, still secured only around her waist, revealing the white crotchless corset that clung to her curves. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around Wesley’s neck to gain leverage to gyrate against him in a slow, undulating grind.
He massaged her thigh and her ass as they fucked ever so slowly. His eyes feasted on her, every movement of her body making her dress gape, her breasts shake... scream to be touched. He needed her in so many way... it would take a lifetime to explore them all. But right now... right now his balls were drawing up... and his cock was aching for more, and he needed her so badly... needed her to put out the fires she'd started.
Still inside her, he impatiently swept his elbow over Angel's desk, sending papers, pens and books to the ground. He sat her on the edge, then pushed her back. She looked so beautiful... his to possess, and he would. Lifting one of her legs, he kissed her from thigh, to knee, and hooked her leg over his shoulder.
Hot and hungry, his gaze locked with hers. Savoring the intensity of the moment, he pushed deep inside her welcoming sheath, half climbing on the table to get as close and possible and bring his mouth down over hers. Just like that, he took possession of her body... fucking her, kissing her... swallowing the sounds she made, moving faster... harder.
“Oh God…” the plea broke from her lips and she arched into him. Panting breathlessly, she felt an intense sensation uncoiling from deep within her core, pressing outward and sending her careening out of control. She fisted the back of his tuxedo jacket, her mind confusing images of her groom with the dungeon master until they were one and the same.
“Uhgh… Master… Wesley… please…” the virgin bride begged him to take her to oblivion.
Behind Wesley, the door to the office opened.
Over Angel's protests, the original Scoobs had insisted on finding out what hold up was. Buffy, Xander and Cordelia stood there in wide-eyed shock, unable to even warn the others to stay back. Fred walked in ahead of Gunn, stopping short causing him to stumble into her. She would have squeaked if she hadn't quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. No one noticed Giles’ arrival...
Rushing across the lobby hoping he wasn’t too late, Giles headed straight for the group clustered around the office door. Angel stood with his forehead dropped into his hand and Spike looked as if he’s swallowed a canary. “Is something wrong?”
The watcher pushed past the group and into the office. “Oh good heavens!” Giles’ blurted on seeing the bride and groom in a most compromising position. “Erm. Ahhh. Gracious. Alright then,” flustered, he turned to face those still gaping in the doorway to usher them out. “Right. Come on then. Out. Everybody out…” he made stern shooing motions.
As he stepped through the door himself, Giles paused and cleared his throat, not looking back at the couple. “Willow. Welsey. I do hope you’ll be along shortly…” Red faced, the watcher pulled the door closed behind him.
The shock of that clipped British accent almost unmanned Wesley... almost. He glanced at the now shut door, and then the squirming woman under him, and groaned. "Can we please..."
Mortified beyond words and her leg still hooked over his shoulder, Willow slowly unburied her face from Wesley’s chest and looked at him. That’s all it took. One look. That look. She was his. He was hers. Raising a mischievous brow, she reversed roles. “Fuck me, slave…” she clenched around him like a vice, drawing him deeper. “Give it to me, down and dirty.”
"Slave, is it? You'll pay for that later," he chuckled, but doubted he could have stayed in character. "Down and dirty," he agreed, kissing her once, but then using his arms to press his weight up and down as he fucked her at a relentless pace. As the fiery friction built, he didn't give a damn what Angel heard, or what the others thought. Fuck... "Come with me, come!" he said, feeling her walls tighten and clench around him.
In a blinding spasm of ecstasy, Willow let out an unintelligible cry that ripped through the walls of the Hyperion. Clinging to him, her lips pressed to his ear she gasped, “Yes. Wes. Yes. I love you. Gods. I love you.” Her body quaked and clenched as euphoric waves rolled over her and like a relentless storm.
"Yes, yes," he answered, exploding with his powerful release. He gasped for air, then added, "Of course I mean I love you too. Marry me?"
Willow let out a breathless laugh as, holding him even as the aftershocks still coiled through her. “Mmmm… I’ll think about it…” her head lolled back on the desk as she looked up at him and grinned. “Okay. How’s now work for you?”
"Perfect," giving her one last hard kiss, he got up and pulled her with him. Looking down, he shook his head. "At least we look less disheveled than we did when we were at the garden at the mansion. We're going to have to think of some way for you to be a bit more ... resistible."
Efficiently, he had them both cleaned up in a matter of minutes, and they adjusted their clothing. "There... did I mention you look ravishing?"
“You just did,” she grinned, turning and looking at herself in the mirror as Wesley stood behind her. Even she could see the radiant glow that hinted at their most recent naughty adventure. “Giles is here!” she blurted with excitement now that his arrival had sunk in.
And then the exact circumstance of arrival belatedly set in. “Oh my God. Wes! He saw…” her cheeks reddened. “Everybody saw! We can’t go out there!”
"Right. Let's hide in here and let them imagine what else we're up to."
“No!” Willow squeaked, eyes wide. “Okay. Point made.” She took a deep breath and smoothed her hands down the front of the white satin dress. Surprisingly, she wasn’t nervous at all about marrying Wesley. It felt so right. But facing Giles after what had just happened… now that was another story.
"Right, I'll be right behind you then," he grinned and took her hand. God, he loved her. The way she shifted from saint to sinner, the way she understood him... all of him, the man who enjoyed arguing about a passage of text, and the side of him that took long walks on the dark side. He couldn't imagine a more suited couple.
Together they walked out of the small office with Willow’s gown sweeping around her feet as she concentrated on not tripping over it.
While the others had taken their positions out in the solarium, Giles waited in the lobby, hands clasped in front of him, standing regally in his tuxedo – and looking entirely too fatherly.
Willow bit her lip and slowly raised her eyes to Giles’ as she gripped Wesley’s hand for courage. Would he still want to give her away?
Giles’ gaze shifted from Willow to Wesley and he gave the younger man a directed, speculative look.
Wesley cleared his throat. "It was a... joke," he said rather loudly, hoping those in the solarium would hear him as well. "A rather stupid one, and everyone disappeared before I could explain. In any event, it appears to have been a rather good delaying tactic since you made it." Gently freeing his hand from Willow's, he put his hand out to shake the watcher's hand. "We're honored that you came."
With only a moment’s hesitation, Giles reached out and took Wesley’s hand in a firm shake, holding his gaze as he issued a look that made it clear he didn’t buy the story for a moment, but appreciated that the man had the good sense to attempt some semblance of humility for Willow’s sake.
“I’m honored to be here,” he said with a sincere nod as he released Wesley’s hand and turned a broad smile on Willow, holding his elbow out for her to take.
Willow beamed up at Giles, bouncing up on the balls of her feet to plant a kiss on his cheek before slipping her arm through his.
Crows feet crinkled at the edge of the elder man’s eyes as he smiled back at the lovely bride – the picture of innocence. Unfortunately… now he knew better.
"I'll hand her over to you then, but only for the moment." Ah well, he hadn't expected the ruse to work, but Willow might think it had.
Wesley leaned over and kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear, "I'll make an honest woman of you, yet." Her flush was absolutely delightful, but he did have to get away to avoid getting injured.
Reluctantly, he left her and walked into the solarium, where he was keenly aware of all the speculative glances. There were only two people’s that he avoided... Angel's and Spike’s... the vampires were the only ones who would know for sure.
When the wedding march started, Willow drew in a breath and cast anxious look up at Giles.
He smiled and patted her hand affectionately and was reminded of the first time she’d come into his library looking for a book that had been shelved incorrectly. She had been too shy to ask for the book by its title, so she’d requested it by its dewy decimal code. Giles still remembered how she’d flushed when he’d handed her the text Understanding Human Sexuality .
As he walked her down the isle, Giles looked over at her and smiled with pride, struck both by how much and how little she’d changed through the years. Looking ahead at Wesley, every bit the dapper gentleman in his tuxedo, Giles knew the same was true for the watcher turned rogue demon hunter. They truly were a matched set. And after what he’d just witnessed, he held little doubt that the two of them could write their own chapter in that text Willow had been curious about all those years ago.
(A/N: We know there was a change in tone, did the ending work for you?)