TITLE: Christmas in New York
AUTHOR: Claudine
EMAIL: claudine423@yahoo.com
PAIRING: W/G, W/E
RATING: PG
FEEDBACK: If I beg ???? :-)
NOTES: This is a future fic.
DISCLAIMER: Permission to use these characters relating to BtVS & AtS has not been given. Joss, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy own TM and copyrighted them. Nor do I own the rights to The Grinch or any of the other stories/songs I mention. Gimme a freakin' break Mr. Copyright man - I'm merely a humble fan havin' some fun. No infringement is intended. Say goodnight, Gracie.....
chapter one
Willow Rosenberg walked slowly through the bustling metropolis, taking in all the holiday sites and sounds of the city. New York on Christmas Eve was a wonderful, spectacular place to be, even if you happened to be Jewish. Not that her religion defined her. At least not at this stage of her life.
She breezed past Radio City and mused at the line of people gathered five deep all the way around the block waiting to get in to see the Rockettes. With a quick twinkle of her nose she worked a little magic that changed the front-row-center seats of a stuffy, old curmudgeon that she passed with the last row, ‘limited-view' seats of a family that had, no doubt, spent an entire month's salary just to get in to see the show.
After some elbowing, she managed to get close enough to watch the ice skaters at Rockefeller Center. The music, the lights on the tree, the sea of faces full of smiles - it was magical. She was in awe of everything, but down inside, she was lonely.
Her parents had moved to Florida after a rich relative that nobody ever knew even existed died and left them over a million dollars. Aunt Eloise. Good old Aunt Eloise. Willow's name was in the will, too, and her precious, but never mentioned, aunt left her a hundred thousand dollars. At least that's what Willow's parents were led to believe. But after the reading of the will her parents, bound for sunny shores, took off before Willow even had her coat on. The lawyer stopped her and closed the door so that they would be alone. "Your aunt wanted this to be given to you privately. There were strict instructions in her will that you were the only person to know about this." The attorney handed her an envelope. "Eloise was a little, shall we say...eccentric. There are over eighty keys in this envelope, each with an address to a bank somewhere in the United States and a safety deposit box number, most of which you will find in New York City and the surrounding area, though I think I saw one or two for Hawaii in there. I'm not sure what you'll find, Miss Rosenberg, but if I had to venture a guess, I'd say your aunt squirreled away hundreds of millions of dollars and she's left it all to you. But don't quote me." After a rollicking adventure hunt with Giles cross-country, Willow settled in New York. The city fit her like an old glove, though she'd never called anything but Sunnydale 'home' in her entire life.
Now, at the age of 30, filthy rich and free as a bird, Willow's life was one with meaning. She helped people. Angel had L.A., and Willow had N.Y. The city was hers for the three years she'd been living there.
Buffy and the others ended up in Cleveland after Sunnydale fell into the hellmouth. Faith, Robin Wood, Andrew, Kennedy, Xander, Buffy and Dawn all settled in and made lives for themselves in Ohio along with a slew of potentials. But Willow was restless, her soul eager to explore and find out who she was and where she belonged. She left behind a few million dollars for Buffy and the gang and the she and Giles hit the road. Xander had mumbled something about Kerouac and how Giles was trying to recapture his youth, but someone made sure the Watcher never heard the statement.
Willow fell in love with Giles, truly in love with him on their journey. They'd given up the Watcher's responsibilities to Buffy and the others. Giles was no longer needed and Willow, well, she never quite fit in after the whole 'dark-roots-kill-your-friends' era.
Though she had been rehabilitated in England with Giles' help, after her trip home she just never felt like she belonged with the Slayer's family any more.
Giles traveled with her, his smile as bright as a child's on Christmas morning with every stop they made. Each bank vault held new secrets, more money, ancient books, Wiccan heirlooms and each stop promised more power for Willow. Turns out Aunt Eloise was a kick-ass Wicca who had been keeping an eye on Willow all her life. There were journals detailing Willow's progression with magick throughout the years, from her very first pencil-levitation to the spell that restored Angel's soul to the dark times after Tara's death. Eloise had eyes around every corner, it seemed. In one of the books there was even a ‘prophecy' that Willow and Giles would end up together and produce a child who would ‘bring balance and harmony at a time of great need.' Luckily their affair had started before that book was found, otherwise the prediction may have scared the Watcher away.
They lived in New York City together for over a year after the four-month treasure hunt ended. But he didn't know how to be part of her life without being the one who provided for the two of them. They helped people, yes, hundreds of people, but at the end of the day, Giles wanted to be the one who signed the checks that paid the bills. In fact, he needed to be the one. His ego couldn't handle it. Foolish, yes. Selfish? More than he ever imagined he could be. "I have to go, love,” he lied, “England is calling."
"If I beg," she asked, her body lazily draped against his frame, her fingers tracing delicate circles through the tufts of warm fuzz on his chest as the snow fell like angel's kisses on the skylight above their bed.
He just shook his head no .
She wanted to cry, to scream. She wanted to beg. She wanted to use magick to keep him, but she swore she never would. Not on Giles, not like that. Willow leaned up on one elbow and looked deep into his eyes, searching his soul. "I love you," she spoke softly.
"I know," he whispered as he stroked her hair. They moved together as one, their bodies a tangled blur beneath the moonlight and the falling snow. He was gone before she woke the next morning.
She was stirred out of her memories by a voice, distant and helpless. It was calling to her. Willow pushed past the crowd that had gathered around her and made her way through the streets, trying to hone in on the cry for help, the voice of a child in danger. A few blocks away she found a girl, tiny and frightened as a vampire was just about to sink its teeth into her. "Hey," Willow called and the vamp spun around, the child in its grip like a lifeless mouse.
"Oh, goodie, another present," it said, "and I thought Christmas was just for you pathetic mortals."
Willow smiled, her hands glowing bright yellow as the energy crackled between them. "It is." She didn't even have to chant anymore, the magick flowed freely from her body.
In an instant the vamp was dusted, the sunshine that Willow had conjured enveloped the beast and disintegrated it before the child even saw the face of the thing.
"You're ok," Willow said, helping the little girl up.
"Who are you? What was that?" The child's face was scrunched up, her eyes full, the tears ready to fall. Before Willow could answer, the girl's mother came running into the alley and scooped her up. Willow never even had a chance to catch her name.
Willow reached down to pick up a bag she had dropped, blowing the dust off of it before she cradled it against her body.
She stepped back out into the nightlife from the shadows. As much as she needed to be her own person, every time she slayed a vamp or a demon she gave a silent nod to Buffy.
I really should call them, Willow thought to herself. But the thought left her mind as quickly as it had entered.
A few blocks away, across the street from St. Patrick's Cathedral, a crowd had gathered as a choir began singing Carol of the Bells . Willow stopped and listened, the magic of Christmas erasing her loneliness as they sang.
She stood there for half an hour until the music had stopped. The crowd never parted, though, and Willow wondered why. She was intrigued, so she waited. After a few moments, she heard a voice booming through the streets, the timbre of it only slightly familiar.
Every Who down in Who-ville liked Christmas a lot
But the Grinch, who lived just North of Who-ville did NOT !!!
Immediately she was lost in her thoughts again. She was ten years old and she and Xander were snuggled up under a blanket with a bowl of Jiffy Pop at his house watching holiday shows like The Grinch and A Charlie Brown Christmas.
The memory faded again when the choir's voice rang out to sing the Who-songs whenver the narrator paused. Willow had never seen anything like it - the children were mesmerized, all crouched down around this man who recited the famous poem. And that voice...she couldn't place it. If only she could get a look, but the crowd was too big and she was too far away.
She couldn't help the smile that spread across her features. The city was alive, the spirit of Christmas all around.
And what happened then...? Well in Who-ville they say
That the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day!
And the minute his heard didn't feel quite so tight,
He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light.
And he brough back the toys ! And the food for the feast !
And he, HE HIMSELF...! The Grinch - Carved the roast beast.
The voice! The realization hit Willow like a ton of bricks. She pushed through the crowd, her goal to stop the man, but the poem was over and the crowd quickly vanished around her. She saw him standing there in his red sweater and scarf, his holiday spirit so obviously insincere to Willow's eyes. She almost broke out in a run, though she wasn't sure what she would do when she reached him. "What did you do to them?"
"Excuse me?" He was standing in front of her wrapping the microphone cord up, looping it around his hand and then around his elbow. "Do to whom?"
"You did something. I know it. You put a spell on every kid in New York City on Christmas Eve. Why? So you could steal their presents or something?" For a woman of 30, she prattled on like a teenager.
"I did no such thing." He was calm. He was amused by her accusations. At one time they would have been true, but not now. He had turned over a new leaf. And he had found a home and a purpose in New York City.
"Oh, please. You expect me to believe that?" Willow's hands crackled with magick, though she tried to hide the yellow glow from any passers-by. "Silence now thy lying words, bring forth the truth that should be heard."
He smiled. "You doubt me?" He handed his things to a woman who was helping clean up the area. "I speak the truth, Willow."
"And yet, somehow, I don't believe you. Funny, isn't it?" She was annoyed more than anything. How infuriating to stand before someone so sure of yourself, and have them dismiss all of your ideas as if they were silly.
"Well, why don't you let me buy you a drink and you can ask all the questions you want. You can find out for yourself that I'm a changed man," he met her gaze, "And it's one helluva story."
Just then a young boy walked up, pulling an even younger boy by the arm. "Hey mister - you know Santa Claus?"
Willow's eyes grew wide, about to stop this man from her past from answering the boy's question. But he bent down so that he was eye level with the boys and said, "No, not personally. But we do have a lot of the same friends. What's your name?"
"Tyrell. This is Sam. Can you tell your friends to tell Santa me and my brother needs someplace to live?"
"Where are you living now, Tyrell?"
Willow watched the exchange carefully, silently weaving a protective spell around the children.
"We stay with foster parents, but they don't want us. I heard the dad on the phone with the social worker telling her to take us back. They're gonna send us back tomorrow unless Santa can help us." Tyrell looked over his shoulder. "I have to go. The mom is waiting for us over there. I told her Sam wanted to meet the man who told the story so she would let us come over alone. Please help us."
"I will." His voice was sincere, his heart almost broken as the boys turned quickly and left.
But Willow didn't see it that way. "You're sick. How can you lie like that to those little boys?" They need help and you're standing there lying, telling them you'll help them find a place to live? Is that fun for you?"
"I'm not lying. And I can help them. I will help them. I'm a new man, Willow. And if you just give me some time to explain you'll see." His eyes were almost twinkling, reflecting the blinking Christmas lights all around them.
Everything in Willow's head told her to say no, but when she parted her lips to speak, the only thing that came out was, "Ok."
He smiled. "O...k...not the enthusiastic response I was hoping for, but it'll do." He turned to hand the last of the equipment to the woman who was helping clean the area up. "Good night."
"Good night, Ethan. And thanks again for helping us out in a pinch - the kids really love your voice."
"My pleasure." Ethan turned back to Willow and smiled. "Shall we?"
chapter two
Ethan walked slowly, barely a fraction of an inch in front of Willow, his lead cutting a path through the massive crowd.
"This is insane - I don't think there's a bar in Manhattan that has room for us." Willow was dreading her decision to spend time alone with Ethan Rayne. "Maybe we should just..."
His words cut her off, "Now, now - that's a defeatist's attitude. Surely there must be someplace. Come hither," he said playfully and tugged gently on her scarf, the unexpected contact only a minor concern to Willow.
They had literally walked until they could walk no longer. The cold and the crowds had taken a toll on the both of them. Willow was just about to tell him that she'd changed her mind when Ethan turned to her and said, "Ok, I give - this is insane."
She paused and looked around as an awkward silence filled the space between them.
"I've got an idea!" He leaned close, a little too close, when he spoke. Willow pulled back instinctively. Though the instinct had less to do with Ethan in particular and more to do with intimate contact in general, he noticed the gesture and had to comment. "Don't worry - I don't bite," Ethan teased, "...at least not on the first date." Truth be told - her actions hurt his feelings, but a man like Ethan Rayne couldn't expect to be trusted without paying some dues, first, and making amends. Willow's trust would be difficult to gain, but since the moment she walked back into his life, hours before, he had thought of nothing but proving himself to her.
Willow was torn. She didn't really want to be alone, not with the constant reminder of the families and groups of friends gathered all around her in the crowded city. Her purpose in the world, though an important one, lent itself to loneliness. But Ethan? Is Ethan Rayne someone she wanted to find solace in on one of the most magical nights of the year? If nothing else, he reminded her of Giles and, if she couldn't be with him, then Ethan was the closest thing. Her decision to join him came with a disclaimer, "You know that if you try anything..."
"You'll liquefy my entrails." The corners of his mouth turned up slowly as his eyes met hers.
"Well, I'm out of practice, but expect something equivalent." She actually smiled. And, though she would never admit it to herself, she was blushing.
"Follow me." Ethan pulled out a set of keys and reached for the door to an apartment building they just happened to be standing in front of.
"Uh...no." Willow stood glued to her spot. "This is just a coincidence? Ending up in front of your building?"
Ethan walked back over to her. "Look, we can't get into one bloody bar in the entire city. Every inch of this town is buzzing. Besides - I don't think you want to be alone, and I sure as hell know that I don't want to be alone on Christmas Eve. Trust me?"
Willow just shook her head no and raised an eyebrow at him.
"Ok," Ethan said. "Well, it's much too soon for this, but I can see there's no other way." He took her hand in his. "I promise this won't hurt a bit." His thumb moved slowly over the crest of her knuckles before he gently tugged on the fingers of her glove, one by one, to remove it. He moved closer and looked deep into her eyes while he placed her hand over his heart and covered it with his own. "Have a look inside - I know you have the power."
She couldn't believe what she was feeling. Every inch of her body was tingling. Ethan never appealed to her before, what with the worshipping of chaos and all that. But now, in the moment, in the cadence of his voice and the glint in his eye, she caught a glimpse of this humbled man and all her defenses fell. "No, it's ok," she whispered, afraid to peer into his heart and find something that would spoil the moment.
He stood close to her for the next few moments, the heat of her gaze warming every inch of his body. "Come with me."
He led her to the door. When they stepped inside Willow's breath caught in her throat as she looked around. Though it may have been an apartment building at one time, now it was Ethan's home. And it was grand.
She stepped further into the room, her eyes trying to take in everything at once. There was a Christmas tree in the center of the room that looked almost as big as the one at Rockefeller Center. The banister of the old, circular staircase in front of them was lined with holly and red bows and lights. "Ok - wow would be an understatement."
"It doesn't always look like this - I just threw a party last night. I wish I had known you were in town, I would have invited you." He spoke over his shoulder as he crossed the room. "Will you excuse me for just one minute - I need to make a call."
"Ok." Willow was still in awe of her surroundings. Her own flat was decorated for the holiday, but not nearly as elegantly as Ethan's place.
Ethan reached into the breast pocket of his coat and pulled out a cell phone. He pressed a few buttons and then held it to his ear while he stepped behind a mahogany bar and searched one of the cabinets. "Nicky!" he said. "It's Ethan. Listen - I need a favor." He pulled a bottle of cognac out and then ducked down, searching for glasses for the two of them. Apparently there weren't any. He left the liquor on the bar and then turned and walked through a set of french doors.
Willow could no longer see or hear him. She reached up to her neck to remove her scarf but, as soon as she did, Ethan broke through the doors again with two glasses and clicked his phone shut before he dropped it back into his pocket. "No, no," he said when he caught her about to remove her scarf, "Leave it on."
"Aha!" She said, "No heat - I knew there had to be something wrong with this place. It's too good to be true."
Ethan smiled as he approached. "No - there's heat. But not where we're going." He nodded to coax her along with him. "Incidentally there's nothing wrong with this place. It's fit for a king." He stopped and leaned in close to her, his voice almost lascivious as he added, "And someday, perhaps, a queen."
They climbed the staircase together, Willow's conscience playing the broken Giles record over and over and over in her mind. " Are you mad? Ethan Rayne? He's evil. Have you forgotten about that Halloween? And the candy? And the demon he turned me into? Ethan Rayne - the harbinger of chaos. How could you let yourself be lured into his home?" She tried to ignore the voice, but not before it got one final "pillock" in.
The stairs wound up through four floors, though Ethan never paused long enough for Willow to get much of a look. But at the top the stairs opened up into a solarium. There were poinsettias and evergreens mixed in with normal foliage. The entire place was lit with twinkle lights. It felt like a dream.
"Well? What do you think of my humble abode?"
Willow took his arm as she climbed the final two steps but let go quickly when she was steady on her feet again. "Not so humble."
Ethan poured two generous glasses of cognac before he replaced the lid and set the bottle down on the floor. He walked over to Willow and handed her a glass. The urge to take her hand was so strong that he couldn't fight it. After a deep breath he reached out and touched her hand lightly, his motion tentative until he felt her acceptance. He laced his fingers through hers and led her to the door to the balcony.
The view took her breath away. They could see for miles. The entire city was sprawled out before them, the sounds of the masses below barely a murmur now. "Wow - this is..." She just couldn't speak. Vampires and demons were the farthest things from her mind. Even Giles was a distant memory.
"This keeps me grounded." He motioned out over the city with his hand that held his drink. He brought it to his lips and sipped slowly, the alcohol a familiar, comforting burn as it rolled over his tongue and palate. "Reminds me of how little I am in the grand scheme of things." He stared off into the distance, appreciating the view as if he were seeing it for the first time. "London is a lot of things, but this city, right here and now, New York is the place to be."
"I know. Sunnydale could fit in New York's pocket." Willow said, finally letting go of his hand before she sipped her own drink. "This is a great place - you're lucky."
He regarded her for a second or two and added, "Yes, I am."
She felt herself blushing and quickly turned away from him, afraid to show her attraction to him. But he never looked away, his gaze remained fixed on her until she turned back and met his gaze. They looked deep into each other's eyes like old lovers, Willow's heart actually fluttering, her fingertips tingling.
"So," he said, walking over to the edge of the balcony, "You have questions. I've got answers. What do you want to know?"
The moment, and whatever had passed between them, was broken. Willow thanked whatever force it was that separated their bodies before she did something she might later regret. She found it much too difficult to think with him standing so close. If she wasn't so enthralled by the magic of the holiday she would have thought Ethan had put a spell on her. But something told her he was sincere, his actions genuine.
"Well," she thought aloud, "You claim you're a changed man. Am I supposed to believe that you just woke up one day and realized: Evil? Not so good after all."
"Yes."
"So what happened then, well in New York they say that Ethan's small heart grew three sizes that day?" She mocked him with his own words.
He found her reference appropriate and charming. "Something like that." He took a deep breath. "You find it unfathomable and yet, when Ripper turned his life around, you all welcomed him. Some of you with open arms."
Willow's eyes grew. Did Ethan know about her and Giles or what he just toying with her. "Well..." She searched her heart for the answer. "We never knew Giles when he was... you know ."
"Continue," Ethan said, amused at the irony of this whole discussion.
"He was all tweedy, nose-in-a-book, do-the-right-thing guy when we met him and we didn't know those things about him."
"Yet when you learned of his past you dismissed it, forgave him, assumed he was a changed man." He sipped his drink.
"Yes. That's right. His past stayed in his past since it didn't involve any of us. But you? You're all evil, chaos-worshipping, demon-loving, every-time-you-come-to-town-wreak-havoc..."
"I get the picture," he interrupted. "What about you, Willow? News travels, you know. Sunnydale may have been devoured by the hellmouth, but not before it whispered its secrets to the underworld." He closed the gap between their bodies. "You fell victim to the power. When your friend died, when the grief hit you and sucked the marrow out of your very bones, the darkness and its power overtook you...just as it had overtaken me. And Ripper, at one time." His voice was comforting, though his words stung. "You're not unblemished." He reached up and stroked the side of her face softly, his fingers numb from the cold. "But your friends welcomed you back, forgave you for your mistakes....And when I look at you, when I look into those big, brown eyes...I see the goodness in you. I see the strength it takes to fight the darkness. I see regret and remorse for the things you did. So if you want to cast me aside before getting to know me a little better, ask yourself if it's a fair assessment." He smiled. "People change, darling Willow. I woke up one day and looked in the mirror and said 'Ethan - you've fucked up your entire life - it's time to be a man'."
"And?" Her voice quivered, though she wasn't sure if it was the weather or Ethan's energy coursing through her.
He took her hand in his again, placing it softly over his heart for the second time that night. "Close your eyes and see for yourself."
Willow's own heart skipped a beat. Ethan's breath was warm and sweet as it spilled over her skin when he spoke. She flattened her palm against his body, his heartbeat steady on her hand, and she closed her eyes.
This gift, this power, was one she never learned to control. Sometimes she saw too much, sometimes not nearly enough. But Ethan was so willing to give himself over to her, that the flood of emotion and information coursing through her body almost brought her to her knees.
He felt her weakening so he pulled her hand away from his body. "Well?" He took another step back and searched her eyes for the answer.
chapter three
Willow leaned forward and moved her mouth to stream of cold water running out of the faucet. She drank as if she'd been lost in a desert for ten days, the thirst almost drying her to the bone, a thirst she thought she'd never quench. Before she pulled away she splashed the icy water on her face and soaked a towel so that she could roll it up and place it behind her neck. She sank to her knees on the floor, the porcelain cool but comforting when she slid her feet out from under her body and rested against the door. Her heart was racing, her mind swimming. The back of her head was throbbing like a bass drum.
"Willow? Are you alright?" Ethan's voice was a muffled whir in her ears when he spoke from the other side of the door.
"I...I'll be fine in a minute," she lied. She didn't know if she would be fine at all, not after what had happened.
She had seen too much, felt too much. Though Ethan seemed to be on the straight and narrow, his past was still a part of him and when Willow peered inside as he suggested, she felt it all. The power and darkness were so intense that she could barely breathe.
After she had calmed down and cooled her body temperature, she stood up and took another look at herself in the mirror. She was a mess, clothes rumpled and her hair sticking to the back of her neck like wet spaghetti. “Still red, that's a good sign.” Though she hadn't been 'evil' for many, many years, the darkness in Ethan's soul danced with the memories in her own and tempted her to cross the line again. The internal struggle left her weak and confused.
She ran a brush absentmindedly through her hair and then rejoined Ethan in the living room. There was a fire roaring in the fireplace and soft music playing in the background. Despite her growing attraction to him, romance was the last thing on Willow's mind. "I think I need to go." She didn't want to leave, but she was weak and confused. She needed sleep.
"No, please. I'm sorry – I had no idea you would feel it all, that you could reach so deep - I never should have let you..."
"It's ok," Willow said. "I'm glad you did....it's just....it took too much out of me."
He was standing in front of her, shadows playing across the strong features of his face. Concern was the last thing Willow expected to see when she looked into Ethan Rayne's eyes, but that's exactly what she found. “Come and sit down,” he said softly, not a hint of anything but goodness in his voice. “You need to rest.”
“I really should go home. I…I….” she didn't know what to say. She didn't know what she meant or what she wanted, but being alone with Ethan in his home was creating too many possibilities for her. And she was afraid that she might give herself over to him for the wrong reasons.
It was as if he read her mind. “I would never hurt you, Willow. It's important that you know that.”
“I have to go,” she whispered.
“I'll walk you,” Ethan said. Though Willow was about to protest he interjected “I insist.”
She took a deep breath and smiled. His chivalry was another check in the plus column. Giles would never let me walk home alone, either, she thought.
Ethan held up her coat and waited until she slipped both arms into it. He turned her to him and held her by the lapels for a fraction of a second before he slowly buttoned her up and tied a scarf around her neck, fighting strongly the urge to sing a few bars of “Baby it's cold outside.”
He grabbed his own coat and gloves and threw them on quickly while they walked toward the front door. “Ladies first,” he said.
Willow moved ahead of him but just before she opened the door to walk outside she turned back to Ethan and said, “You know, you could have blocked that stuff about you and Giles.”
“And what stuff is that?” He knew what she meant, but he enjoyed toying with her. Though he was quite the ladies man in his later years, Ethan's youth was questionable.
“That whole ziggy-stardust-androgynous-experimentation era.” Willow had never asked Giles, but she assumed that he and Ethan had been together back in their Eyghon days.
“No secrets,” he said, “I wanted you to see it all, I wanted you to know I wasn't hiding anything.”
“Or,” she offered, “You assumed Giles never told me and you just wanted to knock him down a peg or two.”
“Guilty as charged,” he said and leaned in close to her, “Did it work?”
She just smiled and turned to the door.
The air was crisp all around them, the night finally still. Not only were the crowds gone, but the streets were downright deserted. Not a creature was stirring now that the midnight hour had come and gone. It was after 2 a.m.
There was a soft snow falling all around. The instant Willow took a deep breath she felt better. The cold air in her lungs stifled all that wicked energy that had been pulsing through her. It was as if the moments before had never happened, though she remembered everything. She leaned her head back and watched as the snow fell from the heavens.
“What a wonderful prelude to the new day." Ethan cocked his head to the side slightly, watching Willow in the snow. "Feeling better?"
Willow ran her gloved finger over the bridge of her nose to wipe away a few snowflakes.
"Amazing what a little fresh air can do."
"Which way, m'lady?"
"This way," Willow nodded and turned away from him. Ethan followed. "It's so quiet,” she said, “I've been here for over three years and I've never, ever seen the city so still."
They walked for blocks until they ended up at Rockefeller Center again. "Tell me, darling Willow – when streets are lined with people again, and you find yourself in the solitude of your own flat, when the sun dances on this blanket of white in the morning - what do you wish to find under your Christmas tree?" They stood side by side in the still of the night, the lights painting shadows all around them as they leaned casually over a half-wall and stared down at the empty ice rink.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but the new-and-improved-evil-free-handsome-charming Ethan is kinda freaking me out." She was only half-kidding when she nudged his shoulder with her own.
"Really?" He stood up tall, took her by the shoulders and turned her so that she faced him. "Perhaps there's a bit of that old scamp left inside of me." Ethan inched forward slowly, hoping she would meet him halfway. When she leaned in to kiss him, he playfully avoided her lips, instead kissing her on the cheek and then he whispered in her ear, "How's this?" He slid his hands into her coat and around her waist, the heat from her body like a flame against his. "Naughty enough for you?" He nibbled on her ear and kissed his way down her neck.
Willow couldn't speak. The contact made her breathless. "Ethan..."
"Yes?" He whispered again in her ear, his breath warm on the blushing skin of the side her face and neck.
"Kiss me."
Ethan wrapped her delicate frame in his arms and lifted her off the ground in a moment of passion. His kiss was probing and deliberate, his arms strong around her waist as he held her tight. He felt his knees about to buckle from her touch, her kiss. He stepped forward, searching for something to lean her up against for support and leverage. When the backs of her thighs touched the half-wall behind her, Willow instinctively wrapped her legs around Ethan's body. He set her down and stepped closer to her, his hands moving down her back, over her hips and down the length of her thighs, exploring as much as she might allow before he wrapped her in his arms again.
She broke their kiss, desperate for a breath of air, but Ethan could not tear himself away. He moved his lips slowly over her neck and she arched her back, their bodies pressed together as one. When he nibbled playfully in the hollow of her collar-bone, Willow barely stifled a moan. She squeezed her legs tighter around him, lost in his touch. She felt the cool of the snowflakes falling on her neck before the heat of Ethan's mouth kissed them away one at a time - a sensual agony.
Her head lolled forward and she met him in another kiss; slow, deep, tantric, explosive. "Ethan," she managed breathlessly, "Take me home." She covered his mouth in another kiss.
chapter four
They walked in silence all the way to Willow's building, her leading the way, Ethan following eagerly. She was overwhelmed by the things she was feeling: good and bad, right and wrong, certain in one breath but confused in the next. She was holding his hand, holding Ethan Rayne's hand - leading him to my bed. Her stride was quick and certain, the want in her body trying to block out her conscience.
Willow's keys were in her hand by the time they reached her block. She didn't want to waste one second looking for them once they stepped inside. The doorman opened the front door for them, the desk clerk greeted them with a "Merry Christmas, folks." But neither Willow nor Ethan were interested in losing any more time on niceties with practical strangers.
The elevator was empty and, as soon as the doors fused closed behind them, Willow was in his arms again. He pressed her up against the wall and held her by the throat, his thumb pressed into the soft spot below her ear, just behind her jawbone. She took a deep breath and lost herself in his kiss while his knee inched higher between her legs.
They made it out of the elevator into her hallway, but Ethan couldn't keep his hands off of her. If she thought they could have been quiet she would have taken him right there. But her building was full of wealthy socialites who had nothing better to do than peep through their peepholes. Even at 3 am. Even on Christmas Eve. And by the way Ethan was using his tongue to kiss her, she knew she'd be howling like a banshee beneath him in no time - not something she wanted the neighbors to witness.
She tried to unlock her door, but Ethan stood behind her, his hand on the outside of her thigh, his lips moving wildly over the back of her neck making her task almost impossible to accomplish. His breath spilled hot over her ear when he whispered her name, "Willow," and slid his hand under the waistband of her shirt. She rested her head against the door for a moment, her senses heightened, her body all but lost in his touch.
Inside, in the dark, with lights blinking all around and the scent of evergreen lingering in the air, Willow dropped her bag, her coat, her keys and pushed Ethan up against the door as it closed. He slid down the door, his back only slightly affected when he passed over the beveled panes in the wood. When he met the floor he was cradling Willow's body in his arms as best he could. The moment was awkward, but it didn't matter. She immediately broke their kiss and straddled him. As quickly as she had pulled away from him, she pressed her lips to his again.
She slid her hands under his scarf and he leaned forward, never pulling his mouth away from hers as she tore the coat off of his body. Her hips instinctively ground down against him and he moaned - already quivering, already throbbing, already ready. She reached down between their bodies and unbuttoned his pants, but he stopped her with his hand.
"No," he whispered. Ethan stood and swept her up into his arms, "Which way," he asked and smiled.
She guided him to the bedroom but just as they were about to cross the threshold, Willow reached out with both arms and grabbed onto the frame of the door. It stopped Ethan in his tracks. "No," she said, suddenly reminded of Giles. "Not in there."
Ethan lowered her to the ground, his mood quickly ruined. Willow leaned up to kiss him, but he stopped her. "Ah, but there's someone else," he said. "You don't want me, Willow. And I wouldn't want to take advantage."
She met his gaze and listened, but she never meant to turn him down. All she meant was that her bed was off limits. Ethan knew that, no matter what she said, her heart was off limits. "I don't want you to leave," she said. "Stay with me, just...." she looked over her shoulder into the bedroom, "Just not in there."
Ethan was about to protest but then he thought aloud, "Oh, what the hell - I'm not evil anymore, but I am still a man." He kissed her again and lifted her body off the floor into his embrace. "Show me where," he managed.
Willow broke their kiss when he lowered her to her feet again. She took his hand and led him down the hall to another living room. It was rich and warm, the walls draped in emerald velvet, a grand piano in the center. It could have easily held a hundred people and yet, with the lights dimmed and the two Christmas trees in opposite corners, it was very cozy. Willow eyed the fireplace and whispered, "illustro" and flames ignited at her command.
Ethan stopped when they passed a stereo receiver. "Hmm, I wonder what I'll find," he teased and pushed the on button, "Are you a Fanilow Miss Rosenberg?" But just then the entire place was filled with soft, romantic, jazzy holiday sounds.
"And what if I am?" She asked coyly.
He twirled her once around and then pulled her to him, his lips ready when their bodies met. Willow kissed him softly and then lowered her head to his shoulder.
He held her in his arms, the cadence of their echoing heartbeats a dulcet tone in his ears.
They danced a slow dance for over an hour, each one's body contouring the others. They made love on the floor in front of the fire, Ethan's strong, hard body a machine that sated Willow's need over and over again to the point of exhaustion before he found his own release.
When the sun finally poked through one of the windows, Willow stirred and woke up. She was on the sofa close to the spot on the floor where she had fallen asleep in Ethan's arms. But he wasn't around.
She covered herself with the blanket that had been draped over her body and made her way through the flat, searching for signs of Ethan. When she walked past the bathroom, Ethan reached out from behind the door and grabbed her and pulled her into a backbend kiss. "Morning."
Willow smiled when Ethan righted her again. "I missed you."
"Music to my ears," he said and kissed her again. "Come with me." He took her by the hand and led her to the jacuzzi tub. It was surrounded by glass windows that had snow gathered in tiny drifts at the wooden panes, but the sun was shining brightly throughout the room. "Allow me," he said and peeled the blanket off of her body. "I'm not looking, I swear." His eyes were closed. Kind of. He held her hand while she stepped into the bubbling water and sank modestly below the water line.
"You can look, now," she said.
As if . "Since this morning was so unexpected, I obviously didn't have time to get you anything."
"Ethan..." she said while she shook her head back and forth. "You don't..."
"Shhh...." he interrupted. "I know I don't have to , but I want to." He kissed her on the top of the head. "You have a nice, long, relaxing bath. I will make you breakfast and then, if you don't have any other plans, I'd love to spend the day with you. Dinner at my place tonight?"
She just smiled and nodded yes.
"Good." He was beaming from ear to ear.
"Hey," she said changing gears, "I never asked, but....that call you made last night? Who's Nicky?"
Ethan smiled. "I told you I was going to help those boys."
Willow rolled her eyes. "Nicky? St. Nick? I don't think so."
"No, no," Ethan said with a half laugh. "Nicky Kringle. She's Kris's great, great, great, great....great, I think, grand-daughter. I've never met the old man, but she and I worked together on a few projects a while back when I was living in London. She said she'd help."
Willow was skeptical, but Ethan's soul showed her that he was good, now. She tried to believe him. "Ok."
"You don't sound convinced." He handed her a loofah and grinned. "But something tells me I'd be wasting my breath if I bothered pressing the issue."
"I believe you," she said. "When you let me look inside of you last night, I saw a lot of things. And I believe that you're telling the truth. It's just...well....Kris Kringle? We always had a big, honkin' menorah on the mantle so Christmas stuff was always hard to believe." She looked into his eyes, "But I know you haven't lied to me."
Ethan leaned over and took her hand, "Bath, breakfast, maybe a quick shag and then we're going out...on...the...town." He punctuated each of his last four words, pausing to kiss her after each one.
"Can't wait," she said and sank down completely into the water. When she came up for air and opened her eyes, Ethan was gone.
He found his way around the kitchen in no time. Though there weren't many ingredients for a continental breakfast, Ethan managed to whip up quite a spread. He set the table, lit a few candles and turned a silk rose into a real rose with a brief incantation.
Table set, food ready, candles all aglow, Ethan found his way to the back living room where they'd slept. He was searching for his watch and wallet. He put on his watch and then headed back down the hall. Just as he passed her door, Willow stepped out into the hallway. She was wearing a silk robe and her hair was swept up in a loose knot on top of her head.
"You're absolutely stunning," he said and kissed her hand.
"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself." She really wasn't sure what to say to him, so she had to settle on something.
"Breakfast is served, madam," he said and held up his arm.
She wrapped herself around his arm and rested her head on his shoulder while they strolled toward the dining room. The night was magical and Willow was looking forward to getting to know Ethan better.
When they reached the dining room Willow stopped and gasped, the blood quickly rushing out of her warmed face. She pulled away from Ethan immediately, instinctively pulling her robe tighter around her body while tears welled up in her eyes. "Giles?"
chapter five
Giles stood in front of Willow and Ethan like a fool. His hair was windblown, his glasses were slightly fogged over, there was snow gathered in the creases of the leather bomber he wore. He looked like a tourist. But, more than that, he looked numb. Even anger was absent from his emotions. This sight - Ethan Rayne in Willow's flat while she was in her jammies - was just unbelievable. "Willow?" He was almost breathless.
"Giles, wait, it's...." She didn't even bother finishing her own sentence. Not only was it cliché, but it was a lie. It was what it looked liked. She had just spent the night making love with Ethan Rayne. Ethan Rayne. She couldn't believe it herself. His name, when removed from the context of the romantic night she had spent with him, actually made her sick. But he was a changed man. Willow knew it to the very core of her soul, she knew he was good. "Giles, just...."
"I can't believe my eyes." Giles was still standing there, devoid of emotion, staring at the two of them.
"Ethan," Willow said, "Would you...."
"I'll just leave the two of you alone." Ethan stepped away from Willow and headed toward the front door. “Rupert..." he met Giles' eyes, "Very sorry it had to be under these circumstances, but it's good to see you old friend." Though Giles didn't believe him, Ethan meant what he said. Too many years had passed. Ethan's road to perdition had included Giles far too often – he wanted to make up for it. But, if there was ever a time to atone for the things he'd done to Rupert Giles, this clearly was not it. In fact this was the worst thing he'd ever done, the thing that hurt Giles the most. And yet, Ethan meant no harm this time. The other times, yes, but this was a pure twist of fate.
Giles just glared and bit his tongue. The numbness was wearing off. It took every ounce of his brain activity to keep from instinctually pummeling Ethan right then and there.
Ethan realized he probably shouldn't have said anything. He glanced once at Willow and winked at her taking careful steps to assure Giles hadn't seen the gesture. And in a moment, Ethan was out of view.
Willow walked over to Giles and touched his arm tentatively, "I'll be right back. Please stay. We need to talk."
"Yes, I imagine we do," he said and looked down at his hands. His words were cold, his gaze distant. Willow knew that nothing she could have done would have hurt him more than this. She followed his eyes and her heart almost stopped when she saw what he was looking at. Good things come in small packages. Tiny, blue packages tied up with bows with the words Tiffany & Co. printed on their tops.
There were too many things she needed to smooth over. This one would have to wait.
She looked into his eyes once more but he looked away. "I'll be right back," she said.
She walked to the front door and tore it open. At the end of the hallway Ethan was about to step onto the elevator. "Wait," she called after him. "Ethan."
He stood with his hand holding the elevator door open as if he were planning a quick getaway. But by the time Willow reached him the elevator began to 'ding, ding, ding' and he chose to let the doors close without getting on. "I'm very sorry," he said, "I know this isn't going to be easy for you."
"Look, I'm sorry. I don't...I don't know what to say here." She looked down at the floor, searching for the answers in the recesses of her mind. But she found nothing. It was blank. There were no answers. "Ethan..." She let out a sigh.
He pushed the button to call the elevator back to their floor and then he turned to her. "You don't owe me anything you know. I understand. Ripper and I have a history, you and he, obviously, have a history. Now I know who was on your mind last night," he said and playfully tapped her nose. "I suspected as much, but I didn't want to bring his name up any more often than I had to." He stroked the side of her face tenderly. "Go and fix your life, Willow. If he won't take you back because of this..." Ethan leaned in and kissed her, his finger tucked under her chin holding her face up toward his. It was soft and tender, full of meaning. He never finished his sentence. Ethan stepped onto the elevator and waved goodbye to her.
The moment seemed to move in slow motion for Willow. The picture of Ethan stepping into the vessel that would take him away from her - she would remember it forever. It was like the end of sad movie: every action a grand gesture, every sound amplified beyond recognition. The doors closed so, so slowly while the sound of silence deafened her. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears away from her eyes.
When she walked back into the dining room, Giles was sitting at one end of a long table, his jacket neatly hanging on the chair behind him, the blue Tiffany box in front of him. His hair was fixed, his glasses cleaned. The image was startling. It almost overtook her.
"Giles." She wasn't even in front of him when she started speaking.
"No, please. Allow me to go first." He was calm, his voice soft and low. "Whatever has happened between the two of you is your business and I have no right to judge you. I'm sorry that I interrupted your..." He had no idea how to end his sentence. Surely he couldn't end it with your fucking sin-filled shag-fest with Ethan Rayne, bringer of evil, harbinger of chaos. The thought may have crossed his mind, but he couldn't actually say it.
Willow sat down and took his hand. "Why didn't you call?" It wasn't threatening, she wasn't insinuating that if he had called this wouldn't have happened. But still, it wasn't the best thing she could have said.
"I did. Twice on your cell. Once to the flat. I guess you haven't had time to check your messages." He still hadn't met her eyes. "Willow, I know that I've done some pretty stupid things over the past few years, but...well, I'm fallible...like everyone, I suppose. I made mistakes. The biggest mistake of my life was leaving you." He finally looked into her eyes. "Before I found you with Ethan I had planned on asking you to marry me. Crossed an ocean on Christmas Eve to be with you on this...magical...day. But now...I'm not so sure…perhaps I'm not the man for you." He quickly added, "That's not a threat, I don't mean anything judgmental by it, I just...I think maybe you've changed and I've gone on being the same, old...well... me. "
Willow was about to cry again. She wanted Giles, she did, but he left her. He left her and he had been gone for two years. They'd emailed back and forth occasionally, called once or twice, but she always felt like he was gone for good, that he was never going to come back to her. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that. You can't just show up after two years and expect us to pick up right where we left off. You left me, remember? London's calling, blah, blah, blah…You couldn't deal."
"I know," he said softly.
"I...I don't know where my head is right now, I'm too confused." She took a deep breath. "I'm gonna go get dressed. When I come back we'll go out and get something to eat, ok?"
"Yes, witnesses…that would be a good idea." He was joking - that was a good sign.
Willow smiled, some of the tension alleviated. "Funny." She looked into his eyes for a moment and then stood gracefully and left him.
When she returned she found he had cleaned the table off and washed all the dishes from the breakfast that she never got to eat. It would be easier for Giles to walk back into the flat later that day if he didn't have all those reminders of Ethan around. It was selfish on his part, but Willow thought it was sweet, like he was taking care of her and feeling at home again. If she only knew....
He was sitting on the sofa reading a two-day old newspaper. The moment she entered the room he stood to greet her - always a gentleman. She scanned the room for the little blue box but it was nowhere to be found. He must have tucked it away. Or threw it away, she thought. Suddenly she missed it. Since the first day he leaned over her shoulder back in the library when she was that skinny little kid - all she dreamt about was Giles proposing. The moment came and went in one breath...and it may be gone forever. All she could do was pretend she'd never seen it.
"Ready?" She was wearing a pair of black satin palazzo pants, a low-cut red sweater and high-heeled leather boots. She knew it would be difficult navigating through the snow, but she would use those awkward moments to reach out to Giles for support.
She had listened to her messages when she left him to dress. The first one made her cry. The second...she had to listen to it twice because she couldn't hear it over her sobbing. By the time the third one played she was glad she hadn't applied any make-up yet because she would have had to wash it off and start over.
Willow, it's me. It's Christmas Eve. I'm sitting in Heathrow right now about to get on a plane to see you. I know I should have called sooner and I should have made plans to see you...for all I know you're on a plane to Cleveland to see Buffy and the others. But, here's the thing…I can't live without you. I've tried but it's not working. I was selfish and arrogant, I know that. I never should have left you. But I'm on my way back. I know it won't be easy, I know there will be a lot to discuss, but…if you'll have me – I'm all yours. See you soon love.
Willow, it's me again. It's past midnight your time and I should be there with you right now. But our plane was rerouted to O'Hare because of the weather. Can you believe it? Rerouted to Chicago – that's just bloody brilliant, isn't it? At any rate – I've just booked another flight, but it will put me in Newark, not JFK, at around 6 this morning, so I won't be there for a few more hours. I can't wait to see you. I know we've been apart for the holidays before, but I can't bear to spend one more day without you. I've missed you. I don't know what you ever saw in me, but…I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me...and let me make up for the past two years. We've lost precious time, love. Too much time. Sweet dreams.
Hi. Just got in to Newark, but there are about 30,000 people in line in front of me to rent a car and no chance in hell of me catching a cab. I'll be there soon. I still have my key - I hope you haven't changed the locks. I'll let myself in if you're still asleep. I know I shouldn't even say this, but…if you don't want to see me – please leave word with the front desk that you've gone out for the day. I won't force this on you, love, but…I need you. And...well, I suppose that's enough for now... See you soon.
All that time. Every second it took him to leave those messages, every word that Giles spoke with every fiber of his being, the expanse of ocean he crossed, the cities he stopped in, the snow, the crowds, the tiny blue box he'd protected all that way - she was in Ethan's arms the entire time. Beneath him, beside him, above him, lost in his touch, his kiss, his motion, secretly cursing Giles, privately punishing him for leaving her, never once, never once imagining he'd ever know. It was the very embodiment of the old adage: be careful what you wish for.