Russell groaned delightedly. Her hands hovered over his shoulders before settling on his shirt, and sliding hesitantly down his back. She pulled back slightly, worry tainting the desire in her eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, my love. You can do no wrong." He kissed her softly on the corners of her mouth. "It was a manifestation of my pleasure. You touching me, Rachel, your hands send me to heaven."

"I fear I have not done this before. I am quite unsure of myself." She gave a soft laugh, one that held no malice or self-pity. "You will guide me?"

"My sweet love, I have every intention of guiding you." His hands ran down her arms, heating her through the thin fabric of her uniform. She stood still, enjoying his masterful touch, gasping slightly as he raised his hands up to her shoulders then over to her collar.

His fingers stilled at the top button of her uniform, save for the trembling of his hands. She smiled. "I thought you would be quite skilled at the art of seduction, sir." She reached behind her and untied the strings of her apron. "You wear the air of it so well."

He slipped the apron off her, tossing it across the foot of the bed. His hands again reached for the buttons of her dress, beginning to unhook them with precision and tenderness. He watched her face as he unfastened the first few, feeling the heat rise inside him at her look of bliss. As his hands moved lower, though, he could not help but gaze at the beautiful body he was unveiling so reverently.

Her skin was pale like cream, warm and, he would wager, quite delicious to taste. He guided the gray material away from her shoulders, sloped so delicately. The dress fell to the floor, rewarding him with a view he knew he would never forget.

Her stockings were a pale gray, attached to a simple white corset and garter. They reflected her position, not the finest quality by any means, but on her exquisite body, they were like a masterpiece. "Rachel, I fear that I have misjudged this situation quite badly."

Her heart stopped beating and she felt as though the floor beneath her should open up and admit her to hell in truth instead of just in thought. "I see."

She attempted to bend down to retrieve her fallen dress and, if there was forgiveness in this universe, some of her dignity. His hands stopped her, not allowing her to look away. "I had thought, hoped perhaps, that I could love you this once and sate the craving in my heart. But I see now that I shall never tire of the look of you or the need for you."

She swallowed hard, feeling her body relax and tighten at the same time, his words sending new emotions and desires through her. "I feared you found me…lacking."

"The only thing I wish to find you lacking it these garments." His fingers found the tie of her corset and loosened it, licking his lips as her breasts escaped the confines of the whalebone and expanded to their deliciously natural state. "And, once lacking those, I hope to leave you lacking nothing."

He undressed her slowly and carefully, setting each piece of lingerie aside as though it was some sort of holy garment. She stood before him finally, nude and slightly self-conscious. "You have me at a disadvantage now, sir."

He nodded. "I have found that the best way to become accustomed to a new experience is to deal with it first hand. Learning is a tactile sensation." He let his eyes caress her. "Would you like to undress me, my Rachel?"

She could not speak, the license to touch him when she had struggled so hard with herself not to, was overwhelming. How many times had she walked behind him in his great library and wanted to brush his hair at his neck? How many nights had she stood outside his bedroom door and wished she had the courage to walk inside?

"I would die to touch you." She reached up and loosened his tie, separating the material and pulling it from his collar stays. She undressed him as he had her, setting each piece aside carefully. When she managed to bare his chest, she lost her control, dropping his shirt to the floor. His chest was a golden hue, sprinkled with brown and golden hair, woven through with the slightest bit of gray. His muscles were defined, though they did not stand out in high relief.

She wondered briefly how he managed to be so fit, working at a desk all day as he did. The question fled her mind, however, when he captured her hands and raised them to rest on the skin she was staring at so intently.

"I cannot have your death on my conscience, little one. Touch me."

His head rolled back as her hands danced over his skin, brushing the sensitive tips of his nipples and tangling in the hair that led down to his slacks. Her shaking hand stilled at his thick leather belt. He watched her though eyes narrowed in desire, wondering at her pause. Suddenly he realized she had no practice at such a thing. Even as the nanny, she only had two girls to take care of. No experience.

The heady rush of being the first man that she had seen in such a state nearly buckled his knees. He put his hands over hers, both in an effort to help her and to steady himself. He undid the belt, using her hands to do all the work. She pushed the dark leather aside and touched the button of his slacks.

"I admit to having some fear of what I shall find when I release you," she whispered, leaning forward to brush his chest with a kiss. He moaned her name, struggling to control his body. He was suffering, watching her naked flesh as she seduced him with her shy, simple movements and now she insisted on experimenting. "Will it hurt?"

"I intend to have you so lost in the feeling of pleasure, you won't even notice the pain." He ran his hands down her back, holding her to him. He made sure to keep his body's reaction away from her, determined not to scare her too badly. "But to do that, I need time. And I'm afraid that if I continue to hold you like this, my need for you will outweigh my good sense."

"I thought we had gone past good sense some time ago, my dear Russell." She giggled. "Shall I put you out of your torment then?"

"The tormenting is not going to end, love. It's just beginning."

She smiled, her fear suddenly dissipating. He would not hurt her. She undid the fly of his slacks and, without looking, guided them to the floor along with his undergarments. Kneeling before him, her head bowed, she removed his shoes and socks then moved back to stand.

Russell reached down and offered his hand. She accepted it gratefully and stood, finally allowing her gaze to traverse his entire body. She gasped softly as she reached his waistline and below, amazed at what she saw. He seemed far bigger than she would have admitted to imagining he would be, longer, thicker and…she looked at it quickly once more before looking away again. It was more than she ever expected.

"I do not know that I…"

He kissed her, capturing the statement between them. Her arms wound around him reflexively, and she pressed her body to his. His hardness was caught between them, rubbing the smooth flesh of her stomach. She slid a hand down to his waist then to his stomach to touch the hard flesh.

He groaned, her name leaving his lips in a rush. "Darling, I fear that if you do that much more, this tender moment shall end before it has a chance to begin."

"I cannot touch you?"

He touched her bottom lip, alleviating the pout. "You can. I hope that you will. But first, I must touch you." He lifted her easily, setting her on top of the bedspread. She lay back against the pillows.

Submerged in Rachel's maelstrom of desire, Willow felt her own consciousness spiraling away. She looked up at the man leaning over her, seeing Giles so clearly in his face. Reaching up with gentle hand, she stroked his face. "I love you," she whispered with her own last thought

He smiled easily. "And I love you, my Rachel. Now lie back and let me love you."

Rachel nodded and closed her eyes. His fingers trailed over her breasts, brushing the already hardened nipples and making them grow even tauter. Bending his head, he followed the unseen trail he'd made with his tongue, capturing the hard bud between his lips.

She cried out, arching up to his mouth. The heat surrounded her like a roaring fire, dancing along the surface of her skin. He smiled quickly against her flesh before bringing his teeth very gently into play. They worried the hard tip for a moment before he was again suckling her.

Her hands wound into his hair, holding his head to her breast. He moved it slightly, loosening the hold so that he could move and lavish the same attention to the other side. Her chest tingled with the coursing blood he set moving in her veins and she could feel the intense heat begin to slip down her body and center in her stomach.

Tugging gently, she pulled his head up to hers and kissed him deeply, her tongue dueling with his. She could feel his surprise and smiled, proud of herself. "You inspire me to new things," she managed to say breathlessly as they broke the kiss.

"Let me inspire you to heaven then," he offered, kissing his way across her jaw, down her neck and into the valley between her breasts. His tongue paid a bit more attention to the dark red tips that ached with unfulfilled need. When she moaned, he made his way across her stomach until he reached the mound of dark red curls.

He breathed deeply, inhaling her scent and imprinting it on his soul. As he exhaled, he sent the tumble of hair dancing and she shivered with pleasure. Slipping his hand along the inside of her thigh, he parted her legs, his thumb caressing the pale skin.

Heaven indeed. He moved between her legs and parted the dark lips of her sex with the same skill. She wanted to brace herself for the intensity she knew would wash over her when his tongue touched her, but she didn't want to cheat her counterpart out of the first ocean of delight that would wash over her.

The tip of his tongue was like an arrow pointed directly to the center of her nervous system. He swiped a lick lazily across her throbbing clitoris, and she felt her body wracked with the pleasure/pain of her orgasm. She lost herself in the wave of it, calling out his name as her fingernails dug deeply into the flesh of his shoulders.

He grinned cockily as he looked up at her. "Perhaps you should find something less likely to suffer permanent damage to hold on to?" He did not mock her, although she sensed the teasing in his voice. He would often tease her, but he never treated her as anything less than an equal.

Until tonight. Tonight he treated her as though she were some sort of treasure. He moved his head down again, his tongue continuing to work it's magic on her. She writhed against him, aching for further contact. As amazing as the sensations coursing through her felt, she ached to feel his skin against hers.

She was about to comment when his tongue pressed hard against her and she felt something fill her in a way she'd never experienced before.

"Russell!" she gasped, squeezing her muscles tight against the invasion of his finger. He groaned in return, slowly beginning to pump her with a smooth, rocking motion. She nodded, licking her lips and rolling her head from side to side.

Encouraged, his thrusts grew faster and deeper, moving in her passage, his whole mind wrapped around the fact that he was loving her, making love to her. Suddenly, her muscles grew incredibly tight and her second orgasm buffeted him. Pulling his hand away carefully, he softly kissed her along the smooth lips of her sex. He moved up her body, pinning her beneath him. His erection was still held back, his worry that he would frighten her away from this. And for him, at least, the situation was growing far more critical.

Rachel looked up at his face, flushed with excitement and glistening from his banquet of her. "I want to feel you above me. I want to feel you along the length of me. I want you, my sweet love."

Hesitation claimed her as she felt the tip of his cock press to the lips of her opening. He smiled lovingly at her nervous face. "I've wanted nothing but you since the moment I met you. Even though I knew it was wrong. Even though I fear we can have no future."

"We don't need a future," she assured him, arching her hips to feel more of him. "We have now."

Russell shivered with need and nodded, sliding himself slowly inside her. Her slick passage welcomed him, although it was still tight. He stopped as he felt her maidenhead, looking into her eyes. "Rachel?"

She nodded, unable to speak from the pressure of his body inside hers. Her skin seemed electric as they rubbed together, thrusting and moving, writhing and stroking, kissing and loving. He buried himself inside her, needing to memorize every detail to remain with him the rest of his life.

They thrust together in wild abandon, each calling out their lover's name, needing to hear the words of love as they made them truth. Rachel wrapped her legs around him, forcing her body tight against his and felt yet another wave of warmth wash through her. Russell grunted and forced himself against her, her hips grasped tightly in his hands as he emptied his essence inside her.

They collapsed in a sweaty, tangled heap, both breathing with difficulty. Rachel smiled and turned her head to the side, her eyes catching the clock.

He felt her stiffen underneath him and all of the joy rushed from his body. He gazed down at her, worry and pain in his eyes. "Was it so that you regret it already, my lady?"

"It is nearing six, my good sir," her voice was a mixture of joy and tears. "The lady of the house will be home soon and I must not allow the bed to be found in such disarray. I fear the master of the house would punish me if that were to happen."

He carefully rolled away from her; sorry that they would not have time for reflection and decisions. "The master of the house might enjoy punishing you…perhaps late at night, alone in his bedroom?"

She began dressing, trying to hide her blush. "I would not dare to presume…"

"Presume. Please?"

She turned and smiled fully at him. "I think I would very much like to be punished by him." She stared at him for a moment out of time before looking once again at the clock. "I must hurry. I doubt the lady of the house would allow the kind of punishment that you have in mind were she to find us here together."

He stood as well, dressing slowly, frowning as her stunning from was locked up once again in her uniform. "Rachel?" He reached out to stroke her cheek. "My love…"

She kissed his palm, trying to convey to him that she understood everything in his heart. "Indeed sir. But the time. It is nearing six."

"It's almost six! Willow! Willow!"

Her eyes opened slowly and she blinked rapidly as the head poised above her moved and the bright overhead light shone in her eyes. Sitting up with a yawn, she managed to focus on Buffy, Cordelia and Faith who were all gathered around the bed. "What?" She asked sleepily.

"It's almost six. You have to finish getting ready." Buffy tugged on her hand and helped her off the bed. "We have to get you dressed and do you hair and touch up your make-up."

Willow nodded, watching Buffy as she and Cordelia descended on the vanity like a pack of vultures. Faith moved beside Willow and smiled knowingly. "Nice dream?"

She grinned. "Very nice."

"The prospect of wedding night sex with Tweed-man wasn't enough for ya? You had to dream it as well?"

Willow patted Faith's hand and stood to join the other two girls. "Who said I was dreaming about Giles?"

Oz and Xander sat on the window seat of the small room Giles was pacing. After several minutes, Oz spoke. "Has the carpet done something wrong?"

"What?"

Xander raised his eyebrows. The last time he'd heard Giles snap like that was…well, pretty much never. "A little on edge there?"

"I hate waiting."

Angel walked into the room, staying close to the walls opposite the windows. "The cake is set up, so is the champagne. There are a couple of girls who work for Willow's dad ready to lay out the food when it gets closer."

"Are they cute girls?" Xander asked.

"Very attractive." Angel nodded. "Although," he started as Xander bolted from the room. "I should probably have told him that being almost 250 years old, girls, to me, is a relative term."

Oz snickered. "So, what all do we have to do tonight? And is it a good idea to be packing?"

"No, Buffy and I have set up a protection ward around the house that should keep out any unwanted supernatural or demonic elements. We've also got the pathway lined with small poles…"

"Sharpened at one end to a razor sharp point?" The werewolf nodded at Angel's smile of assent. "Okay then."

Giles glanced down at his watch and closed his eyes tightly. "Is the photographer here yet?"

"Not yet." Angel tried to hide his grin. "You look a little pale, Giles. Maybe you should sit down."

Oz agreed and slipped off the window seat to grab Giles' arm and guide him to a chair. "It's nothing to worry about. You're marrying the woman you love. It's smooth sailing."

His green eyes met Oz's over the top of his glasses. "Exactly. It's all gone quite smoothly. Don't you see that that's the problem? We're on a Hellmouth!"

"Oh. Right."

Angel was about to say something when a very perturbed Xander stormed back into the room. "Girls, despite your freaky vampire standards, are not over the age of forty. Ever." He ignored Angel's smile and turned to Giles. "You look like crap."

"Thank you Xander."

"Your Dad is here."

"Nothing like feeling as good as I look." Giles sighed. "Where?"

"Hanging out with Willow's Mom." A sly smile brightened the teenager's face. "Getting lectured."

Color seeped into the older man's face. "Well, suddenly the day is starting to look promising." He glanced at his watch once again. "Quarter to seven. Is the photographer here yet?"

Oz headed for the door. "My turn to escape the insanity."

Buffy, Cordelia and Faith stood back and stared at Willow. Her auburn hair hung softly around her face, framing it delicately. Her makeup had been touched up, keeping the ethereal glow about her. Cordelia surveyed the dress with a critical eye, making sure nothing was wrong.

The entire dress was made of silk, and it hung, shimmering, on Willow's lithe form. The neckline was a soft scoop, not showing any cleavage, but highlighting the simple diamond drop that hung from a thin, almost invisible chain. "The necklace looks good on you. Keep it."

"You can't afford diamonds anymore, Cordelia."

"Fine then, your something borrowed."

Buffy stepped forward and straightened the neckline. The fabric clung loosely to her shoulders, bunching slightly at the slope then tightening and thinning out to long, tapered sleeves. Taking a small cross pin from her dress, Buffy lifted Willow's arm and pinned it inside her sleeve carefully. "It belonged to Giles' grandmother. She was a watcher. Marguerite asked me to make sure you wore it. Your something old."

Faith was skeptical of the dress when she'd seen it hanging, but on Willow, she had to admit the understated look came across well. The princess seams curved across her breasts and down her trim waist, flaring out at the hips and cascading down to the floor. She looked almost unreal, so pale and beautiful. "Well, I guess it's up to me to say it."

"Say what?" Willow asked softly.

"You look dressed to kill, Willow. Only not in the real killing sense because the outfit just wouldn't do. But you're going to give the old man a heart attack." Stepping forward, she offered Willow a small box. "Although if he can keep up with you in the bedroom, I'm guessing he can survive just looking at you."

Willow opened the box slowly, completely at a loss for what it could contain. Inside was a pair of startlingly blue sapphire earrings. "Wow."

"They were my Watcher's. She gave them to me for a gift before she died. I…I want you to wear them. I mean, I know you got your something borrowed already, but I…it would mean a lot."

Impulsively, Willow hugged the younger Slayer. "I'd be honored to wear them." Releasing Faith, she took a deep breath. "Old, new, borrowed, blue." She lifted her foot, showing off the modest heels. "Sixpence - a real one - in my shoe. I guess…I guess that's it then." The four girls stared at each other, emotions running high. "I've faced vampires, demons, monsters and Principal Snyder. Why the hell am I so scared to go out there now?"

Cordelia laughed softly. "I don't know, because all the guys look really, really good in their tuxes." The other girls looked at her, slightly shocked. "Well, what can I say? Once you look at Xander that way, it's easy to appreciate the good in just about anyone."

A soft knock on the door startled the girls. Faith shrugged and moved to open it. Xander stood there with Oz and Angel. "The photographer's here. He sent us to get you guys."

Faith let the door swing open, smiling as all three men - including the vampire - caught their breath. All three of the girls looked stunning in their dark green dresses, but not one of them could hold a candle to Willow's simple, shining grace. "Oz, I think we both made a very bad decision in letting her get away."

Xander's simple statement brought a blush to her cheeks. "Shut up, Xander."

He shook his head. "You look amazing Willow. I've never seen anyone look more beautiful." Suddenly realizing who else was in the room with her, he swallowed hard. "Er…Cordy, uhm…"

"It's all right Xander. This once, I agree with you." She moved forward and laced her arm through Xander's. "Let's go."

They left and Oz shook his head. "He's right, Willow. You're beautiful. Well, even more beautiful. If that's possible."

"Thank you, Oz."

Faith stepped up to him and took his arm. "At least you didn't get a shut up."

Angel smiled. "You know, I've been alive a long time, Willow. Other than Buffy, I don't think there's a thing in this universe that compares to you."

Buffy slapped his arm. "You're not supposed to mention me."

He slipped his arm around her waist, leading her from the room. "I couldn't lie."

"Well, look at this. It's just me." Willow stared down at her feet, gathering her resolve for a moment before looking up.

Giles stood there, looking dignified in his tuxedo. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at him. He returned her intense gaze, his eyes sweeping over the dress quickly before meeting hers again. "Quite suddenly, all my education has left me and I can't think of a word to say."

"He said using about twenty words."

He shrugged. "Poets have written enduring sonnets that lack your lyrical quality. God himself has made sunsets and sunrises that pale in comparison. I can't imagine anything lovelier than the sight of you right now."

"Wait till you see what's under my dress," she promised.

He laughed and finally stepped into the room. "I don't suppose I could get a sneak peek?"

She moved into his arms, staring up into his shining green eyes. "I don't think we have enough time. Besides, I thought you were saving yourself until you were married."

"I could be persuaded…" He bent his head, his warm words brushing across her lips. "If you felt like persuading."

She licked her lips, considering the option. Finally, she shook her head. "No. If we did that, I would bet money my parents would walk in. And that would be rather embarrassing." She touched his face with a gentle hand. "I love you, Rupert."

"And I love you, Willow." His kiss was short and sweet, promising so much more in the night to come. "Shall we go endure the torture of picture taking so that we can get to the important things?"

"The wedding?"

He shook his head, guiding her from the room. "The wedding night."

The photographer shouldered his camera, his eyes narrowed. "You're sure you don't want any outside pictures while it's still light?"

"Positive." Giles asserted. "We'll be able to have plenty during the ceremony. There will be plenty of light provided."

"And when is this supposed to start?"

Evan took Willow's arm and started to lead her from the room. "Soon." They stepped into the garden and he raised his hands to adjust her veil carefully. "We're all going to come out here. Rupert will lift your veil and look under it, making sure we haven't switched you with his cousin Hildeguarde and then we'll start the procession. Any questions?"

"No."

"Make him happy."

"I intend to." She smiled as he walked away, her heart beating rapidly. She was going to get married. Little Willow Rosenberg was about to become Mrs. Rupert Giles. A soft giggle escaped her. Who would have thought she'd have vampires to thank for her husband?

"Willow?" Evan's voice reached her. "We're coming out now."

The men from their small gathering came out into the small courtyard, forming a small circle around her. Her father took her right hand and Xander took her left. She could feel Oz and Angel behind her as she smiled at Evan, standing off to her right and Giles, gazing down at her like she was a dream. "I love you."

"Because I'm not Hildeguarde?" She whispered.

"Well, that's definitely one of the reasons." He looked at Evan. "All right. You haven't switched her with some strange doppelganger."

"Not for lack of trying." He adjusted his prayer shawl and smiled at Willow. "Are you ready, my dear?"

"More than."

Soft music from the mansion danced in the air as Faith, Oz, Cordelia and Angel walked slowly toward the appointed spot. They walked carefully, mindful of the girl's dresses, the somewhat rocky terrain and the thin fabric that covered the chuppa. It was Willow's great-grandfather's prayer shawl - or tallis - and her father had insisted she use it. She'd willingly agreed, remember the old man with fondness. He'd called her Red what seemed like a million lifetimes ago.

When the four stopped and turned back to face everyone else, Evan began walking slowly. Xander followed him at a sedate pace, concentrating hard on keeping his balance. He wasn't about to stumble and fall and ruin his best friend's wedding.

Giles stood tall as he began walking between his parents. His father was stiff at his side, having not said a single word since he'd arrived. He longed to ask him what had made him change his mind, but something told him that it irritated his father far more when he didn't. Marguerite smiled proudly. Her heart told her that this was right. And if it inflamed the Watcher's Council, well…so be it. As far as she was concerned, they deserved it.

Buffy measured her steps in her head, mapping them out like a very simple battle plan. Her best friend was getting married. Her Watcher was getting married. She glanced up and saw her mother joining the small crowd and smiled. At least her mother would have a surrogate daughter getting married. Letting her eyes stray over to Angel, she felt a deep sadness temper the glow of happiness she felt. She shook her head imperceptibly. Today was Willow's day. No sadness allowed.

Sheila and Ira flanked Willow, walking beside her at a measured gait. Given the choice between her mother's advice and being with her friends, she was happy with her decision to go with the people closer to her. But her Mother's presence at her side sent a warm feeling through her clammy skin. She glanced at her parents, her heart swelling. They loved her, for all their faults. And some day, if she was lucky, she'd be doing what they were doing right now.