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Author's Chapter Notes:
I am sorry this has taken so, so long. Lacked some inspiration and had another project that needed to be written. Hope you're all still on board.
Thanks to Puddinhead, Dorian's Kitten and Science!

Last time, Giles was going to confront Willow about her controlling Xander's mind.
Giles thought dinner had been at turns warm and awkward. Joyce had argued with Buffy throughout the meal, applying all the tactics used by mothers since the dawn of time to sway the opinions of their children. Giles avoided being dragged into the fight.Spike was still at loose ends, unable to join the conversation. He just kept telling Davinia how incredible the food tasted and generally seemed lost to the sensory pleasures of eating. The way Spike moaned when he took each bite of stew made Andrew's ear's turn pink. It was both humorous and unnerving to watch. Eddie and Andrew were like an old married couple, bickering over the heel of the bread. Xander was not himself, groping Willow in front of everyone. And of course, Davinia, with her furtive glances and broken smiles. She wouldn't eat when she was miserable. Xander ended up snatching her cool bowl of stew away.

When dinner ended, Willow seemed excited to be away from her new fiance. Giles couldn't help thinking of Dr. Frankenstein fleeing across the frozen steppe in hopes of escaping his monster. He glanced at Davinia on his way out and felt a measure of sympathy for Willow. Love hadn't fixed a thing for any of them.

Willow took him by the arm as they left the flat, a strange gesture given that she hardly ever touched him. They walked through the hall and down the steps.

It was a relief to step outside after being confined to the apartment. The wind carried a chill and the lush scent of rain. Willow moved closer to him, seeking protection from the uncharacteristic weather. She seemed utterly defenseless, the tiny girl he'd met that first day of school who could not fathom that vampires were real. Of course she hadn't been defenseless then, or now. The diminutive redhead was brilliant and sometimes he forgot how that type of intellect can mislead. She was so bright, he'd assumed she had prudence in all things. Willow was still largely a child.

He'd always thought it was important to give the young space to fail. It's what his mother had done with him. But Willow, Xander and Buffy weren't his children. Funny how he'd thought of them as his charges for so long. They'd all been orphaned in one way or another by their dads, either through benign indifference, drink or complete abandonment. Giles had effortlessly assumed the paternal role. He'd spent years running away from parenthood, engaging in only casual entanglements and one long affair with a very married woman. At middle age he'd become a childless father. Despite how dangerous his life was, it dawned on him he wanted to have kids. With Davinia. He smiled bitterly imagining the birthdays with plump, ginger, near-sighted children. How could they be anything but chubby with the way she cooked?

His conventional dream was not to be. He'd taken advantage of the woman he loved, and utterly failed Xander due to his own selfishness. Giles didn't deserve to be with her.

Sentiment and love had blinded him to the real dangers Willow's untrained power engendered. There was no way of knowing how long the novice witch had been projecting her desires onto the lad. Xander might not have chosen to leave Davinia at all; Willow might have decided for him. The redhead might be so out of control as to affect others unconsciously.

They trudged to Davinia's car and separated once they'd reached the vehicle. Once they were safely within the indistinct, blue Camry, Willow took his hand. Together they whispered the incantation that would render them invisible. When they finished, and he felt a surge of power locking the spell in place, she slowly let go of his hand.

"What are you thinking about?" Willow asked. He could see she wanted his help, but didn't know how to ask. It was time to play the father, and put away his own disappointments.

"Xander seems very excited about your engagement. Much more so than you."

She shifted in the passenger seat, sitting cross legged and facing him.

"I'm excited. I'm super-excited. I've wanted this since...always. I used to plan my dream wedding to Xander when we were little kids. I made a bunch of teeny roses out of tissues and then my mom took them away because they reinforced gender stereotypes."
She grinned up at him, and he knew she was trying to charm. He gave her a fleeting smile.

"Sometimes things we want are different once we acquire them."

"I get that."

"Did you know he attempted to rekindle his relationship with Davinia last night?" Giles asked. She nodded, her fiery hair swaying against her face.

"He told me but he changed his mind about things."

"Did he change his mind about things, or did you, urm, manually?"

Her lashes bounced apart and her brow scrunched up.

"I might have given him a little nudge," Willow said, huddling deeper into her coat. "But I would never hurt Xander. He's everything to me."

Giles took off his glasses and stared into her face, barely able to keep his rage in check. He could see her lips quivered and her chin took on the cratered aspect of a peach pit.

"Do you realize the gravity of what you've done? You've violated the person you loved and changed him fundamentally. There is a name for coercian of this type, Willow."

Her voice was high and squeaky, a helium balloon being squeezed.

"It wasn't like that. I just grew him up a teensy bit. Like a semester at sea, but you know, in a second."

He couldn't listen to her justifications for another second, not when he desperately needed to know the extent of his own guilt in this tawdry drama.

"I know first hand magic is not a power to be used lightly. Simply treading through his thoughts may have altered them, Willow," he said, trying to balance his stern tone with concern.

Wind picked up outside and the sky was darkening.

"What...how?"

"You carry all your longing with you when you enter into someone's mind. Emotions have vast impact on the execution of a spell. When did you practice on him for the first time?"
He clutched the steering wheel hard enough to bruise his fingers.

"The day after he broke up with Dav."

"Tell me what happened after you completed the spell. Was his behavior toward you different in any way?" Giles asked, already knowing the answer before she spoke.

"That was the...." She covered her mouth with her hands and her tears started in earnest. "Oh my god, Giles. I made him do it, but I didn't mean to."
His heart felt cracked and broken. It was clear they'd both taken advantage, both wanted something so much they willed it to happen even though it was wrong. His words to Davinia right before he seduced her for the first time returned mockingly, how losing her would be one of the great regrets of Xander's life. Giles hated himself for not preventing this situation.

He took hold of Willow's shoulders, covering them easily with each hand.

"When I was about your age, I destroyed someone I loved by misusing magic. I still bear the mark."

"Eyghon," she whispered.

"Yes. I know what it is to be seduced by one's own power. My focus has been on Buffy, as it must be, but this is in part my fault for recognizing your need for a mentor to guide you. In England there is a coven equipped to help you train responsibly."

"But Xander, what about Xander? Can we fix this?"

"You can. However, I must warn you, he will remember everything that was done."

"I guess I deserve that," Willow mumbled. "When we get back to Dav's place I'll unwhammy him."

Giles pulled Willow into a hug. She collapsed against him, feeling even smaller than she looked. He allowed her to hold on for as long as she wanted, before she withdrew. She tilted her head down and looked at him through her smudged lashes as she fastened her seat belt.

"Thank you."

"Yes, well we should be off," Giles said, starting the car.

They drove to his flat in silence, Willow staring out the window at the gray clouds fattening in the sky. When they got to his place, she shook herself out of her contemplation.

His heart jumped when he noticed the door was ajar, and he stepped in front of Willow, sheilding her slightly as they walked through the courtyard. They entered the apartment and she gasped. His couch had been ripped open and the stuffing was flung around like chicken feathers after a plucking. Someone had dumped a container of yellow, spiral macaroni on the brown kitchen floor and the cupboards were flung open. Worst of all, his entire book collection was missing. Giles ran to the shelf and gaped at the cavernous shelves. Willow touched his shoulder.

"My god," Giles whispered. He dragged his fingers along the wood. "My god."

"We should get out of here," Willow said, with soft urgency. "It might not have been the Initiative, but we can't take the chance."

He looked around the rest of the room. The drawers of his desk were open and empty, everything overturned. Paintings were torn off the walls. His weapons chest had been emptied. He staggered when he let go of the shelf, then picked his way upstairs, Willow following behind him with a steadying palm on the small of his back.

His study was similarly destroyed. The only thing of value left amid the torn papers was Buffy’s photograph. He went to the spot where it lay face-up on the floor amid the ruined manuscripts and retrieved the picture with his unsteady fingers.

The bedroom was in no better shape than the other rooms.

"Why did they slice apart my bloody mattress?" Giles asked. Willow's jaw wheeled aimlessly.

"They're mean?" she asked.

The contents of his dresser were upended, and some jewerly was scattered over the top. He snatched up his grandmother's diamond engagment set, a Saint Christopher medal that had belonged to an old lover, and a pair of ruby cufflinks that had been his father's. Then he set about packing his clothes into a duffel bag he kept in the closet. To his deep regret, the people who'd destroyed his home had also stolen his grandmother's cane from its place of honor by the bed. Willow hovered near him while he did this. She was uncommonly quiet. When she was genuinely distraught, he knew she couldn't speak much. Her tendency toward incessant chatter was for regular nerves.

Giles scraped together his possessions, feeling the loss of his books as though they were an extension of himself. It felt like his hand was missing. They went down his stairs and surveyed the living room one more time. He wondered if his Tiffany lamp was smashed on purpose.

"Are you okay?" Willow tilted her head up to him, her eyes plaintive.

"I shall be. I must be," Giles said. She nodded and took his elbow, leading him away.

~*~*~

Willow wasn't sure if she had the strength to do this. She looked into Xander's brown eyes and finally saw everything there she'd always craved. The way his pupils dilated and the soft edges of his eyes made it seem like she was silmultaneously the sexiest, cuddliest thing he had ever seen. They were alone in Dav's guest bedroom.

When Willow and Giles had gotten back, the watcher had explained to everyone what they'd found at his flat, allowing her to lead her soon-to-be-ex fiance into seclusion. Xander bent down and kissed her. She gave herself over to the sweetness for a moment. He ended the kiss, breathless and shaking, just like she'd imagined so many times before. Willow wondered if he really kissed like that or if she'd been the one to orchestrate his reaction.

"I was so worried about you. Never leave me like that again, okay, Wills?" Xander asked, rubbing his nose with hers and stroking her hair back.

"Okay. Close your eyes, baby," Willow said.
He obliged her with a slight curve of his lip, just like she knew he would. She took his broad hands in her small ones.

"Let the spell be ended."





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