Instead, she'd tried to ignore the pale sunlight that was making its way across the room. A quick glance at the clock had let her relax in the dawning light and stare down at the man she was going to marry.

His eyes opened and he smiled. "Good morning."

"Barely." Seeing his look, she smiled and shook her head. "Barely morning. Most definitely good."

"I take it we fell asleep?" He sat up, fumbling for his glasses.

"Either that or we succumbed to some spell and there are going to be some majorly embarrassing pictures of us making the rounds."

"It's rather frightening that either option is plausible, isn't it?" He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. "Is it wrong to admit that I was petrified this day would never come?"

She shook her head then leaned in to kiss him. It was soft and fleeting, but full of promise. "This is going to be one of the few days in Sunnydale that I'll actually be looking forward to sundown."

He laughed softly and hugged her closely. His breath was hot against her neck, sending shivers of desire along her spine. "I love you Willow."

She pulled away, gazing into his clear green eyes. "I love you, Rupert."

They held each other's gaze for a long moment until Giles started laughing. "I'm sorry," he managed finally. "I just kept wondering if I had the same goofy, lovestruck smile as you. And I realized I did."

She laughed as well. "Goofier."

"We should get dressed and back before anyone worries."

Willow pouted. "I was hoping…"

"Hope all you wish, little one. I'm saving myself until I'm married." He pulled her to him, ignoring his body's discomfort and inhaled the delicate scent of her. "Now. Let's get dressed and I'll take you home."

Buffy yawned and took a bite of her toast. She looked up as the door swung open to reveal a very embarrassed Willow. "Hey. How's my Watcher?"

"Fine."

"And did we sleep well?" She grinned at Willow's blush. "We did sleep, right? I'd hate for you to be exhausted on your wedding night."

"There was sleeping."

Good. Hungry?"

"Maybe after a shower and change of clothes." She nodded. "Xander still asleep?"

"Yeah. Although I did get him to move to the bed. Wake him up when you're done and we'll go get food."

"We have food."

"Willow? A - it's your wedding day. That's like the big pamper. B - you so don't want me to cook, and C - you have Giles food. That's by no means real food."

Willow laughed. "Okay, okay." She started for the stairs then stopped, coming back to hug Buffy tightly. "I love you, Buffy."

"I love you too, Wills." They hugged for a long time, reinforcing their friendship.

"Is this a girl thing or can I play too?" Xander stepped up and wrapped his arms around them both. "I love you guys."

Willow pulled back, tears of happiness running down her cheeks. "This doesn't bode well. I'm going to be a blubbering mess."

Xander shook his head. "You'll be a beautiful bride." Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. "Now, did I hear something about food?"

Giles stood in front of the bathroom sink, staring at himself. His body was still damp from the shower and the water droplets reflected in the fluorescent light.

His hair, though slightly graying, was still predominantly its natural color. The lines around his eyes and mouth were mostly from smiling, a tribute to his wife-to-be, his Slayer and their friends.

His bare chest and stomach were more muscle than fat and the majority of the scars, scrapes and marks his job provided had faded. Only his tattoo - the Mark of Eyghon - stood out in stark relief against his pale skin.

"I don't know what you see, Willow," he whispered to the empty room, "But I'm bloody glad you do."

Turning away from his reflection, he pulled the towel from its position, slung low around his waist, and dried himself off. His tuxedo was hanging in the next room, a towering symbol of the step he was about to take.

Slipping into his robe, he walked into the main room. "Shower's yours, Ev."

"Your cousin has stepped out. But don't worry Ripper. I didn't tell him why we needed out privacy."

Giles froze. "Hello Ethan."

"You've really got to work on those heartfelt emotions, my boy. Otherwise, a man might feel unloved."

"Bugger off. I don't have time for you today."

"I know. Marrying the little witch, all against Daddy's wishes. I'm actually quite proud of you, Ripper. I wasn't sure you still had it in you." Standing, Ethan strolled over to the garment bag and pulled it open. "Perhaps I should have guessed."

"What do you want, Ethan?" His tone was bored, though Ethan's trained ear picked up the worry underlying it. "As you mentioned, I have rather important plans this evening."

Ethan turned back to him and smiled. "Believe it or not, old boy, I wanted to wish you luck. I rather like her, you know. She seems to keep the old Ripper a little bit alive."

"I appreciate the…"

"I hope you'll be happy, Rupert."

The use of his real name shocked Giles to silence.

Ethan laughed softly. Stepping closer, he extended his hand toward his old friend. Giles reached at out and shook it. "Besides, you're more fun to torture just when you think everything is about to go right." Releasing Giles' hand, he left the hotel room. "Give your bride my best. Or at least, as close as you can get."

Willow sat on the huge four poster bed, ignoring everything around her. She kept staring down at the diamond on her finger.

Life had certainly managed to turn out completely different than she'd ever imagined. Her gaze lifted to the burgundy, crushed velvet chaise lounge that was draped with more lace, ribbon and silk than any one woman should wear.

Above that, suspended from a hook, hung what seemed to be miles of white silk, cascading toward the floor. She heard the door open and pulled her robe together.

"Can I come in?"

"Kind of you to ask." Willow smiled at Cordelia, who was already shutting the door behind her. "Sure."

"I thought you might need some help. And, since Buffy deserves some Angel brooding time and Faith has the taste of a Nashville whore, I thought I was your only hope."

"You can make me beautiful?" Willow asked hopefully.

"Nope." Shaking her head, Cordelia sighed. "You already are. But I can make you look amazing. Giles may not even recognize you."

"Promise to tell him I'm the one in the white?"

Cordelia laughed. "He'll probably guess." Tugging on Willow's hand, she guided her over to a small vanity. "You know, as nice as the view outside this place is, can I ask why? I mean, first of all, no mirrors. And secondly, well, isn't this where Angelus tortured Giles?"

"Well," Willow closed her eyes as Cordelia snapped open a tube of something and began applying it to her face. "The no mirrors I just forgot about, to be honest. But it gives us a chance to bond, right?"

"Right." Cordelia's smirk came through in her voice.

"Besides, we did some research and this place has a history of romance straight out of a novel. There was quite a scandal when it all came out. But Giles assures me that true love won out in the end." She smiled briefly for a moment. "And the other…" Willow's forehead wrinkled. Cordelia smoothed cream over the skin in reprimand and Willow relaxed. "It's about forgiveness, I guess. And moving on. What happened was hard on him, mostly because he felt that he let Buffy down. He's supposed to be willing to die to protect her, yet he wasn't able to keep the secret."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

Willow sighed softly. "They used Jenny against him. Took the embers of his love for her and fanned them to life." She opened her eyes. "If it happened now, I know it would be my face he'd see."

"And he'd let Buffy down again?" Cordelia blushed. "That so didn't come out right."

"He shares a special bond with Buffy." Willow's face was serious and Cordelia stopped her movements to pay close attention. "It's stronger than a lover. Stronger even than a father. She's part of his…his reason, for lack of a better word. Buffy's kind of like a religion he puts all of his faith into."

Cordelia frowned slightly. "So, if Buffy is his reason for…believing?" Her tone was light, even though the question was not. "What are you?"

There was no hesitation in her reply. "His reason for living."

Giles paced the length of his hotel room as Evan got dressed. "It's after two."

"Rupert, would you calm down? Your sunset isn't until 9PM. You've got a wait ahead of you."

"There are pictures."

"Which will take two hours, roughly. That's still a good five hours away."

"And the meeting? The…the veiling?"

"Fifteen minutes maximum."

Giles sank onto a chair, careful not to crease his tuxedo. "Why is there never a Hellmouth emergency when I actually need something to do?"

"You could go talk with your parents." Evan smirked. "Or you could explain why Ethan Rayne was here earlier."

Giles' eyes narrowed. "That reminds me…cousin."

"I didn't invite him in."

"That excuse only works with vampires." His green eyes were shining with mischief, his intent to torture his cousin a bit perfectly clear. "You should know better than to let Ethan anywhere he wants to be."

"No, I should and do know not to get on his bad side. I also know that he has his ways of getting people to give up information they have no intention of parting with. And the longer and harder you resist the worse it is for you when he's finished." Evan looked sternly at his cousin. "You forget he paid me a visit after you'd disappeared into the Watcher's Compound."

"How could I forget? Not only did Ethan show up on my doorstep and create something of a stir, I had to listen to you whine about the hangover you had for three weeks." Giles leaned back into the chair and smiled. "So how did he slip past your expert defenses into the room?"

"He asked politely." Evan looked down as he buttoned his shirt, unwilling to meet his cousin's gaze. "What did he have to say?" Then with a sly smile, he looked up. "Or do?"

"Well, first he pinned me to the bed and took advantage of me, then he tied me up in the shower and had his way with me, then…" Giles laughed at his cousin's frightened look. "I'm kidding. You know, it's a good thing for you that there's no way I could find another rabbi in time."

"So he didn't…"

"Good heavens, no!" Shaking his head, he tried to stifle his laughter. "He was quite the proper gentleman, which was hard enough to believe, and he wished me the best."

"Funny, he *looked* like Ethan," Evan mused.

"That he did." Giles glanced at his watch. "Are you ready yet?"

"Not quite."

"It's almost half past."

"This would already be done with, you know. But no, you had to invite a vampire to an outdoor wedding." Taking his jacket off the hanger, Evan headed into the bathroom to get away from Giles' pointed gaze. "You have no one to blame but yourself."

Giles sighed in exasperation and looked at his watch once again. "Just hurry up."

Cordelia held up her compact and let Willow see the finished result. The redhead drew in her breath, startled at the subtle transformation.

Her eyes looked huge, lined with a soft charcoal and a faint green shadow frosted over with a shimmering white. Her cheeks were flushed with a combination of a light dusting of blush and her own excitement. Her lips were shiny with gloss, tinged just the slightest pink. "Wow."

"You look amazing, Willow. Just like I promised."

"I take back every mean thing I ever said about you, Cordy. Thank you." She tilted the mirror, continuing to stare at herself. "I mean, I look…wow."

"Did you want me to do your hair?"

"Now?"

"No, later. After you're dressed. Besides, with the heat, we don't want it falling. You're okay here in the mansion, it's pretty cool, but outside you'll just droop."

"You paint such an attractive picture." She snapped the compact closed and impulsively hugged her friend. "I'm glad you took a chance on Xander, even if it hurt at the time. Otherwise you wouldn't be here today and I hate the thought of that."

"Stop it!" Cordelia pulled away and grabbed for some tissues. "I'm not going to let you ruin my masterpiece with tears."

"Right then. No crying." Standing, Willow walked over to the lingerie draped chaise lounge. "Buffy took me shopping. I have no idea what half of this stuff is."

"Well, it appears to be all satin and lace, so there shouldn't be anything too out there." When she noticed Willow's look, she blushed yet again. "You can't live in LA and not noticed the very odd lifestyle of several of the residents around you. Sheesh. I didn't say I used them on Xander."

Willow's eyes widened yet again and Cordelia stormed out of the room. Laughing softly, she picked up the corset then looked over at the clock. 3PM. Only a few hours left to go.

Giles and Evan stood in the lobby of the hotel, trying to look inconspicuous in their tuxedoes. The high chandeliers favored them with soft lighting, giving them both a hazy romantic air. "Leave it to your father to make everyone late."

It was a great credit to his patience that he wasn't pacing the floor, wearing a hole in the sumptuous carpeting. He glanced up as the elevator dinged softly, hoping to see his parents stepping out of the car. Marguerite smiled at them both and came forward, dressed elegantly in a calf length burgundy gown. "Well, had I known I had such handsome escorts waiting, I would have hurried."

Giles looked down at the floor, struggling to reign in his temper. He could feel the anger rising, calling to the Ripper inside him, but he tamped it down with the ease of practice. "Where is he?"

"He says he's not coming." She raised her chin. "He said, and I quote, that he'd rather be skinned alive by a chaos demon than witness this heinous union. He said that until you come to your senses and do the right thing, he'll be unavailable to you."

"Do you think that's a promise I could get in writing?"

"The right thing?" Evan asked quietly.

"He wants me to…never mind. Suffice it to say, as far as I am concerned, I am doing the right thing." Giles looked up at the balconies that lined each floor, searching for and finding his father standing in the shadows. "And when you see him next, Mum, let him know that there are few worse ways to lose a son."

Willow closed her eyes, trying hard to concentrate, as she ran the words to the spell through her mind. There was no way to practice this, it simply had to be done, but she was nervous about performing a spell - any spell - just hours before her wedding.

Glancing down at her watch, she gasped. Almost four. Well, that decided it then. She had no choice but to do it now and hope that it all turned out for the best. Her intent was pure. Her heart was sure. She said the words quickly, carefully and precisely then opened her eyes.

And saw her reflection, wavering against the stone walls. She was dressed all in white. White stockings encased her legs, the seam carefully dividing the back of her leg. The tops of the thigh-high silk stockings were attached to garters, white lace trailing up the top of her thighs to the delicate satin trim of her bustier.

Satin ribbons laced up the front, hiding the hooks that held the material, and her body, carefully in place. It dipped low in the front, showcasing the creamy flesh of her cleavage. Her dress revealed nothing, so she'd very deliberately chosen something that would give Giles an eyeful before he moved on to a handful or a mouthful.

She giggled, turning sideways to see the satin trim of the simple, french cut panties she wore. They were very basic, but a much sexier cut than she normal wore, barely showing beneath the layers of silk, satin and lace that now covered her.

The reflection began to fade as she let her concentration slip. She'd seen that she looked good, perhaps better than good, and her attention had left the spell and moved on to the thought of mere hours from now when she could stand before another bed and let her husband remove all the carefully applied garments with his knowing fingers.

Willow looked back at the spell mirror as it faded away, catching one last glimpse of her very happy smile.

Her husband.

Giles stopped the car and sat for a moment, staring up at the mansion. He'd chosen the location deliberately, needing to replace that horrible night with one filled with love and peace. It was also, in a sense, a very final farewell to Jenny.

Endings and beginnings.

"You alright, cousin?"

He released the steering wheel from his tight grasp and nodded. "Just thinking."

"Well, it's four. You've only got a few hours left to pace. We'd better get you started again."

Smirking, Giles climbed out of the car then walked around to the passenger's side to help his mother. Evan joined them and they walked silently toward the mansion.

"You know," Xander's sarcastic voice reached them as he stood. "It's a wedding, not a funeral. I'm almost positive that happiness is allowed. Or is this some sort of strange Jewish ritual I've just interrupted?"

"I'm so glad I cam all the way from England to have my religion mocked," Evan sniffed haughtily. "Americans."

Xander smiled and nodded. "Mocking. It's our national past time, eh G-man?" He fell in step with them. "Everything's on schedule. Willow's folks are working with Oz and Faith, setting everything up. Angel and Buffy set up the protection wards. Wills is getting ready."

Giles stopped, allowing his family to go on ahead. "Cordelia?"

"Helping Willow. No mirrors, so we sent our best soldier to the front."

"And you?"

"Just about to change." Xander stopped and frowned, digging his toe into the ground. "I was…can we talk? Just for a minute?"

Evan and his mother had already escaped into the cool of the mansion. Giles nodded. 'Of course." For a moment, Xander's worried gaze sent a shiver of fear down Giles' spine. What if he loved her? What if she'd changed her mind? What if…?

"Giles?"

Shaking out of his reverie, Giles met Xander's eyes. "Sorry, I'm a bit preoccupied today."

"That's sort of what I wanted to talk about."

This time the fear wrapped around his heart and began to tighten. "Yes?"

Sighing, Xander sank down onto one of the steps. "I have issues…with this. And most of them have been dealt with. I mean, Wills got the advanced curriculum through the MIT outreach program, so you…she didn't get cheated out of school. And the baby thing…" He winced slightly as Giles did the same. "I know it was horrible, but I keep thinking it was maybe for the best."

Giles stood silently, staring out at the calm summer afternoon. Only the pulse throbbing in his jaw indicated that he was listening.

"She's my best friend, Giles. She has been forever. No other woman has ever meant as much to me. No one can hurt me like she can."

When he spoke, the words were tight and clipped. "I'm assuming there's a point?"

Xander looked up, startled at his harsh tone. "Yeah. There is."

"Get to it?"

The younger man took a deep breath. "Her loving you? The thought of it? The truth of it? I expected it to hurt like hell. And it did, for a little while. But I wanted you to know that I know you guys are good…right. So I wanted to, I don't know, give you my blessing."

A small, relieved smile quirked Giles' lip. "Why does this feel far more important than her parent's approval?"

"Because I love her more than they do. Almost as much as you do."

Giles extended his hand to help Xander to his feet. "Shall we go get you ready?"

"Sure thing, G-man."

He rolled his eyes, "Xander…"

"I know, I know. Stop with the G-man."

"That too. But more importantly? Keep it at almost."

Willow unhooked her watch, checking the time before slipping it into her make-up case. Almost five. Two hours until pictures. Four until the ceremony. She'd heard Giles and Xander walk by, discussing something Xander had found during some research.

It was calming, in it's way, making the day seem normal. If she closed her eyes, she could almost picture all of them in the library, hunting down information on the demon of the week. She sat carefully on the bed, leaning back against the pillows, pulling the robe close around her body.

Lately she hadn't been very good at waiting. Since she'd lost the baby, she'd felt more than ever that she needed to find the important things in life and make them happen. But today…today was worth waiting for. She sighed softly, closing her eyes and giving in to the faint tugging of sleep.

The fire crackled to life across the room, filling the large room with the comforting smell of burning wood and warmth. Willow stared across the expanse of the bed, wondering what was going on. A comforting rush enveloped her and she realized she was dreaming or, if the feeling was to be trusted, remembering. She looked up, noticing the man standing near her, leaning casually against the hearth. "It's not decent that I be here."

"You should leave then."

It was her own voice answering him. She looked down at the gray uniform and white apron she wore then into the mirror of the vanity nearby. It was her own body she was standing in, even though she knew it was not.

"I should. But, as we have learned, when I am near you I am prone to forget what I should do." Willow looked back at him, her eyes wide in amazement. He was Giles. He looked and sounded almost exactly like Giles, only the soft pacing of his words making the distinction. "You entrance me."

"I do nothing of the sort." She leaned over and began straightening the bedspread. "You are the one who has put me under a spell. You romance me with flowers and poetry, knowing that I have no defenses against you. You weave your love around me as though it were a spider's web."

"I?" He moved away from one fire, heading toward her to be consumed by yet another. "I go through my life pretending that I don't see you every time I close my eyes. Acting as though I don't hear your voice on the wind. You are a witch of the highest order." He reached down and stilled her hand. "Look at me, Rachel."

"If I look at you, Russell, I shall not have the strength to look away." She continued to stare down at their clasped hands, her body beginning to tremble. "And if I cannot look away, I will lose myself in your eyes. And then where will we be?"

"Lost in my bed." His low, husky voice sent a shiver through her.

"Your wife's bed." She pulled her hand away, pressing it to her lips in an effort to stop the sob that threatened to escape her. "You think that simply because she is out with your children today that I will so willingly fall into your arms and your bed?"

"You need my touch as I need yours. We complete each other, Rachel. You feel the connection between us, binding us together. I did not wish to marry Annabelle. I did so because our parents encouraged the union. I had a duty to be with her. Had I known that I would meet you, I would not have rushed so foolhardily into this marriage. A marriage of convenience."

"Convenience?" She smiled bitterly, even though she knew she had no right. "A marriage for convenience's sake, does not result in two children, Russell. You love your wife, as you should. I am a passing fancy."

He grabbed her hand once more and turned her to face him. His green eyes flashed with anger and hurt, his feelings for her quite obvious on his face. "Do you think so little of me? Of us? Do you truly believe that I only want you in my bed?"

"If I believe that is all you want, I can go on from day to day. To know…to know that you love me and cannot be mine is pure torture. It is having my heart ripped from my chest every time our eyes meet. And if I love you…if I let you take me to bed I will not be able to meet the next day without you. If I have you, Russell…if I let you have me, my heart…I would have to leave you. At least like this I can still be near you, still hear you, still touch you."

"The touching is not enough, my love. Regardless of whether you let me make love to you, my sweet Rachel, what is between us will continue to grow until we are unable to resist."

"And how will giving myself to you change it? Russell, you are married. You are a father. You have a duty, an obligation. You cannot be mine by any stretch of the imagination." Tears clouded her eyes and she bowed her head. "I cannot let reality slip into my dreams. They are the only place I can have you completely. And if we were to do this, I would then…" she shook her head, sending crystal tears scattering. "No."

He nodded and stepped back. "I understand. I do not like it. I want you beyond all reason. I love you with a piece of my heart I thought long dead. But I will honor your need to keep the distance between us." He pulled off his glasses and cleaned them thoroughly with his cloth. She watched his strong hands guide the material over the glass, noticing the easy play of muscles.

She wanted nothing more than to feel those hands on her bare flesh. It was what she dreamed of each night when she closed her eyes. It was the need that burned inside her. "Russell…"

"Rachel," he sighed, reaching for her, clutching her tightly. She was crushed to his chest, her face tilted up to his. His eyes danced with love and firelight. "I will honor your request, my dear. But please? So I do not find myself going mad, may I kiss your lips once? May I taste the sweet nectar of your kiss?"

"I find I cannot resist you," she breathed, standing on tiptoe to meet his lips. The kiss was tender at first, a soft melting of lips, both of them far too shy to press for anything more.

Willow's whole body was attuned to the feelings and emotions of the couple she was a part of in this dream moment though they were so obviously at least a hundred years away. The thought that she and Giles seemed to have a destiny of their own sent her heart racing as quickly as hers - or rather Rachel's - was.

Her lips trembled beneath his and he pulled away reluctantly. Her eyes were dark with arousal, her lips slightly swollen from the prolonged contact. "I must leave you," she whispered.

"That you must," he admitted.

"Then why can I not go?" She raised a hand to his lips to trace their outline. "Why do I wish never to leave your embrace? Why does my resolve fade in the light of your love?"

"You could not fade in any kind of light, my beloved Rachel. You shine like the sun in my dark life. But if you remain, I can promise you only that I will find it harder and harder to resist you. My sweet love, if you wish to run, run now while I still have the strength of will not to chase you."

Rachel pulled out of his arms and took a step backwards, instinctively straightening her uniform. She turned to leave, glancing in the mirror and catching his image. His face was a reflection of sadness, of the heart-wrenching burden of goodbye. He looked, quite likely, as she felt.

"Russell?" She asked softly.

"I need you, Rachel. I love you."

She turned back to him, her eyes a mirror of his love for her. "You make me burn with fires hotter and brighter than any on Earth. Love me?"