Is That You? by A.M. Glass

Is It You?
By A.M. Glass
Copyright: Dec. 22, 1999
Rating: ‘15’. No you don’t need to get your eyes examined it’s an ‘15’.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Fox Studios, Mutant Enemy, et al, have something to do with “Buffy The Vampire Slayer”. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred. The story along with any/all original characters are the sole property of the author and can not be used without expressed permission first.
Thanks: As always to Tracy for beta’ing my story.
Dedication: I don’t think I’ve ever done this before, but there are three author’s out there who have consistently provided me, along with some other people out there with some excellent reading material, and to them I an eternally grateful. To Eileen, Monique and especially Laura.
Author’s Note: This will be the only story you’ll ever read where I pushed the story farther than I have ever attempted to do before.
Second Author’s Note June 2nd, 2002: It just goes to show you what I know. I’ve written three other stories... where I “pushed” the boundaries. Quick note, this story used to be entitled, “The Letter”, however, I noticed that I wrote another story somewhat recently that had the same name. So, I decided after re-reading this, to change the title. I think it still works.

Willow stopped she didn’t need to turn around to know who had called her name.

‘You have no idea,’ she replied silently, steadfastly refusing to meet the other person in the eye.

“He... he asked me to give you this,” the voice said, placing a thick envelope in her hands. Willow looked at it, then back to the messenger.

“I’ve written my number on the back...in case you want to talk.” Willow heard.

Willow got into her car and drove around aimlessly, occasionally glancing at the envelope and wondering for the hundredth time why she hadn’t opened it. She finally found herself in front of a hotel that was located on the outskirts of town, and checked in for the night.

Opening the door and entering the room, she tossed the keys on the desk; her mind barely registering how they slid across the polished surface before coming to a stop, as she closed the door behind her. Turning on the light, she walked over to the windows and closed the curtains, effectively shutting out the rest of the world.

The room was spartan in appearance, a single chair, a desk where the aforementioned keys had been tossed, a dresser, lamp, a television set and the single bed she had requested. Letting her bag fall to the floor, she took off her jacket and dropped it along with envelope on the bed. She made her way to the bathroom, wincing as the bright light blinded her momentarily.

Turning on the faucet, she filled the sink with cold water. Bending down, she splashed her face, fighting the urge to pull back. She continued the motion until she no longer felt the cold sting of the water, only numb.

Grabbing a towel, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pink and a few droplets of water stubbornly clung to her eyelashes. She dried her face, perhaps a bit too harshly, and drained the sink. She walked out of the bathroom, turning off the light, the towel draped over her right shoulder.

She stared at the envelope on the bed, she could see his handwriting on it. She could recognize it anywhere, after all, it belonged to the man she had once called husband.

It was the single word that defined their relationship. They were friends, colleagues, lovers, husband and wife... they were many things.

Picking up the envelope, she ripped it open and took out the neatly folded pages.

Taking a deep breath, she kicked off her shoes, sat down in the middle of the bed and began to read.

Perhaps I’m being far too presumptive in calling you that, but I hope you’ll forgive and indulge me one last time.

She knew that something was wrong, when she received a phone call from someone she hadn’t wanted to speak with or hear from in years. She could hardly recall what was said, only agreeing to the meeting.

“There are no words to express what a fool I believe we’ve both were. Now... please, hear me out.”

Willow counted to fifty before she could continue reading the letter. The statement had angered her terribly.

“I know that there is no way we can ever have a chance to make things better between us. I’ve accepted that fact, when I should have fought for what we have... or shall I say had? You have no idea how many times I wished I’d let...”

Willow could not abide the name she read, but she realized that it might appear in the letter more than once, so, she had better get used to seeing it again.

“You have no idea how many times I wished I’d let Buffy run after you that fateful afternoon. Run after you and make you see, really see what you walked into. I held her back... I told her once you had a moment or two, you’d realize that nothing happened. That I was ‘so’ sure in the love we had for each other... I never imagined how you would mistake a show of affection to mean anything else...”

Willow could recall that day with perfect clarity. They’d had an argument late the night before, and had not resolved the matter by the morning. She could remember slamming the door in his face, and to this day can hear the words he told her before he left the house.

She had become livid. How could he of all people say that of her? Hadn’t they had a discussion about the age difference before they’d decided to get married? The pros and cons? For each argument he had given her against their getting married, she responded with three reasons why they should marry.

After ten years, it was the first time he had ever thrown that in her face. She had stewed over his words most of the morning. Of course, she could say now, that she had been mistaken she would have known that back then, had she not allowed her judgment to have become affected by her anger. It was her anger that had blinded her to the truth.

“Willow... I should have never said what I did that morning. It was uncalled for and I regret ever uttering those hurtful words. They say hindsight it twenty-twenty vision, and I suppose they’re right.

No words can ever express the absolute horror and despair I felt when I arrived at home later that day and you weren’t there. I went through the house room by room, calling out your name.

My first thoughts were that you had gone to your parents. I’m not sure how I managed to get there in one piece, but I did. Of course, I didn’t believe them when they said they had no idea where you were and they demanded to know what had happened.

Your mother was... how shall I say this? She was not at all pleased with me. Nor could I blame her.

But, I wasn’t the only one to blame. I have taken the responsibility squarely on my shoulders for far too long. We are ‘both’ at fault.

Willow... darling, I have never stopped loving you. I don’t think I ever can... could.

You are so a part of my being, to cut you out of it has left me incomplete. That is how I’ve been these past five years – just a shell of my former self, I have no idea... or perhaps I do, of what finally took me from this existence, I only know this, from the bottom of my soul, I have truly only loved one person in the world.

There are so many things I could wish for in my life, but only three things stick out in my mind:

The first: to turn back time ten minutes prior to our argument. I have replayed those moments in my mind night after night. No one has ever made me feel more loved or wanted as you have.

The second: to have told you that I had changed my mind and although the prospect of becoming a father rather frightened me at first, the realization that the child... boy or girl would have been a part of you. Someone I hoped would be as loving, gentle and everything in-between that you are.

It’s amazing how those three words can say what I mean, but never fully convey the true depth of how I feel.”

Willow could no longer read the letter as she broke down, tears streaming down her face as she clutched the letter to her body and rocked back and forth.

“Do you think I do? It was a miracle I found her. You can leave if you want to.”

Willow woke up two hours later after having cried herself to sleep. She slowly rose from the bed, leaving the letter on the bedspread and went into the bathroom. Grabbing a small washcloth, she ran cold water on it, and used the cloth as a compress on her eyes, which had become puffy and bloodshot.

Willow moved the washcloth from her face and wondered who was at the door. Dropping the cloth in the sink, she moved quickly to her bag and took out a cross, and a small canister which looked liked it contained pepper spray before approaching the door.

“Would you move the letter out of the way? Now, you can go,” was said as Willow was placed on the bed.

“You know we wouldn’t have had to go through all this mess if you’d let me...”

“Good luck,” Buffy said as she left the hotel room, praying it wasn’t too late.

Giles knew he was doing the right thing, but it didn’t help him feel any better about the means he used.

Kneeling down next to her, he took her left hand in his, kissing the back of it.

“YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!!!” she yelled, slapping him with her right hand. Giles thought something like this might occur, but it still surprised him. “How...could... you... do... this... to... me?” she said, punctuating each word with either a slap or a punch, as she got off the bed, hitting Giles practically anywhere her hands could land.

“Will... Willow,” he said, grabbing her hands in an attempt to stop the barrage of blows coming his way. Some of them actually started to hurt. “I’m... I’m sorry... please listen to me.”

“I... I didn’t think you’d ever see me again and I want to come home,” he said quietly, as he released her.

“What? What did you say?” she asked him, not sure she had heard him correctly.

“Please believe me, I didn’t want to use subterfuge, I had no other choice. I... I want to come home Willow. I’m not above pleading my case, but I’m not going to embarrass myself, I’m not going to get down on my hands and knees and supplicate myself before you.”

Willow wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms, to let him back into her life.

“Yes... no... I’m not sure,” she replied, looking at him for the first time in five years. “Don’t go,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes once more.

“Never... never again, I promise,” he said as he took her into his arms and cradled her gently, determined to keep that promise somehow.

“Yes. She thought for a long time that she was partly to blame for what happened...”

Willow smiled and reluctantly released her hold on him and sat on the bed. She looked at him, startled by the changes he had obviously gone through in the time they had been apart. She reached up and took off his glasses, which he took from her. She explored his face, she noticed that he had more gray hair than she remembered.

She placed both of her hands on either side of his face and stared. She memorized each new line, wondering where he was, or what he had been doing when they appeared.

Bringing him closer, she kissed his temples, his forehead and each side of his mouth. She pulled back briefly, to see him open his eyes once more.

Willow wanted him, needed him. Her hands shoved his jacket from his shoulders, while their mouths fought a battle neither could win. She began taking his shirt off, frustrated that it was not co-operating, so she took matters into her own hands at tore at his shirt.

Giles growled, as he felt her tearing at his shirt, buttons flying across the room. Willow pushed Giles onto his back and straddled his hips. They finally broke the kiss for lack of air if nothing else.

Willow looked at his hands and smiled. She had forgotten about the buttons on his cuff and his hands had become trapped, bending down, she bit the buttons off. Finally ridding him of shirt, she traced his chest muscles, gazing down at him like a woman starved.

He was being deliciously tortured by her touch, each time she moved, her hips ground themselves against his. His slacks felt tight as his arousal became evident.

With a startled gasp from Willow, Giles managed to roll her over carefully, as not to send them both crashing to the floor. He stared at her for a brief moment, seeing the hunger and desire echoing back to him in her eyes.

His hand explored her body as he orally attacked her lips, throat, any part exposed skin he could find.

He had to feel her skin he craved it, as he took off her blouse, kissing her breasts through the material of her bra. He could feel her hands roaming, touching, scratching, marking him, declaring her ownership of his body.

He couldn’t take anymore, Giles reached down and pulled her skirt up. Willow raised her hips as he removed her underwear. He was greeted by the warmth he had missed for far too long.

Each strived to arouse the other to greater heights. No ‘I love yous’ were spoken...

The only thing heard in the hotel room, were a few choice obscenities, gasps, and grunts. They were fulfilling basic primal needs.

“Oh... god... oh god,” Willow repeated, striving to catch her breath as Giles rolled on to his side.

Giles raised himself up on his elbow and gazed at his wife’s body, feeling the onset of excitement flood his body once again, the way her hair was matted down on her forehead, the sheen of perspiration covering her chest.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, seeing a rather nasty love bite he had left on her neck.

“Hello?” Giles said, into the telephone receiver, looking quickly over to Willow, relieved she was still sleeping.

“Do you need a ride back to the airport or are you staying?” Buffy asked, crossing her fingers.

“No... I’ll be going home with Willow,” he said, quickly holding the receiver away from his ear as Buffy expressed her joy at his answer. “I take it you’re pleased,” he was able to ask after a minute.

“Funny... very funny. So... does this mean I’ll be able to visit you two soon?”

“So, that’s what the younger generation is calling it these days... having a “discussion.”

“Okay... okay. I’ll give you guys some time. Tell... tell Willow hello for me,” she asked.