(no subject)
New All Over, Part Ten
Buffy had to pretty much shove all the males out of the door at the end of the evening. Angel offered to patrol in her place - which she gratefully accepted. Wesley asked if he could patrol with Angel - and then looked sulky and cross when everyone recoiled in horror from that suggestion. Joyce said anxiously that he was probably over-tired and Xander pointed out that he was just learning to be a real live boy. Buffy swept him up into her arms, very relieved that it was Angel being whammied with the ‘you big meanie’ eyes instead of her. Wesley sulked sleepily against her shoulder but obligingly hugged everyone who asked for a hug as they said ‘Goodnight’.
Angel said, “Don’t be like that, Wesley. You can come on patrol with me and Buffy when you’re…bigger.”
Buffy noted and approved the neat sidestepping of ‘older’ there, which would have probably led to Wesley protesting that he already was older, so there.
Wesley still looked mutinous until Angel was almost out of the door when he looked panicky. “But, you shouldn’t go by yourself! What if there were lots of vampires and they surrounded you! There won’t be anyone to tell you they’re behind you. Buffy should go with you to protect you.”
Joyce looked between the six feet tall Angel and the five feet tall Buffy. “Isn’t that a little…strange? That Wesley thinks of a girl like Buffy as someone who needs to take care of a big male vampire?”
“Buffy’s a Slayer,” Wesley explained. “They’re stronger than anyone. Even Angel.”
Buffy looked smugly at Angel. “The urge to stick my tongue out is almost impossible to resist.”
“Buffy has to stay here to take care of Willow,” Giles explained. “But I’m sure if you ask him then Angel will promise to be careful and not to take any foolish risks.”
Angel gave Giles an ‘I’ll get you for that later’ look which he transferred to Xander when the young man said brightly: “And to call you as soon as he gets home to say he’s arrived safely.”
“I’m a vampire,” Angel protested.
“Hence the pretentious coat. Doesn’t mean you get out of the calling home thing.”
Wesley gave Angel an imploring look. “Please, Angel, otherwise I’ll think something bad has happened to you.”
Willow and Buffy added their ‘please, please’ looks and Angel rolled his eyes and gave in. “Okay, fine. I used to be the vampire with a soul. Now, I’m the vampire who phones home. Goodnight.” He stomped off, turned around, came back - Buffy brightened in expectation of a kiss - kissed Wesley on the forehead, murmured ‘Sweet dreams’ to him and then walked off.
Buffy said: “Huh!”
Cordelia inclined her head. “That guy is so over you.”
Wesley looked after Angel and got a look of resolve on his face that was very worrying, especially as he then ducked his head so no one could see his resolved face. Xander nudged Giles as Buffy also looked at the man. Willow grimaced at him and Xander also made head jerking motions in Wesley’s direction.
Giles lifted Wesley out of Buffy’s arms for his goodnight to Wesley and Wesley curled up against him for a moment.
“Shouldn’t they just be shaking hands in a manly British way?” Xander enquired.
Wesley looked worried. “Should we?”
Giles said, “Ignore Xander, Wesley. He’s an idiot.” He hugged the boy gently but his voice was stern: “I’m trusting you to be sensible and to do as you’re told and not leave the house unless Buffy or another adult gives you permission and is with you at all times. Is that understood?”
Wesley looked up at him a little fearfully. “Yes, Uncle Giles.”
“I don’t want to have to scold you.”
“No, Uncle Giles.” Wesley looked horrified at the idea. “I’ll be good.”
“I know you will.” Giles gave him a gentle hug. “Good night, Wesley.” He handed him back to Buffy, nodded to everyone else and then reeled out of the door.
Xander and Oz both patted him gently on the back as the door closed. “Had to be done, man,” Xander said.
“It’s okay, Giles. We’re here for you,” Oz added.
Giles took off his glasses and wiped his brow. “Oh good Lord, did you see his face? Perhaps I should go back and…”
Xander and Oz both grabbed him. “Giles, he was working up to a flit out of that window after Angel the second everyone else was asleep. We all know it. It was time for the Stern Voice.”
“Well, next time you’ll have to do it,” Giles told Xander. “I’m not going through that again. It was worse that when Willow does that…look.”
Xander and Oz both grimaced at the thought of the Willow look. “When the eyes go all ‘how could you?’” Xander shuddered. “Let’s not even go there.”
“It’s the lip tremble that really hurts,” Oz shivered.
“I need a drink.” Giles looked at the company he was in and sighed. “I really need to get some friends of my own age.”
“Well, you could always call Ethan…?” Oz suggested.
Giles gave him a Look that he hoped spoke volumes and as Xander and Oz climbed into Oz’s van and Giles got into his car, it occurred to him that even if Wesley wasn’t technically his ‘own age’ he was at least legally old enough to drink, and did know what a Test Match was. He decided there and then that when Wesley was big again, even if he was as much of an insufferable prat as he had been before - and given that he wouldn’t remember anything about this time as a child, there seemed no reason for him to change - Giles was still going to invite him out for a drink and some discussion of Merrie Old England.
***
Buffy knew that Giles had been right to call Wesley back from the precipice of disobedience on which he’d been tottering. This town was just too dangerous for a little boy to go running around at night trying to be unofficial stake-carrier for a Slayer or a vampire. But it still hurt to see how crushed he was. He gazed after Giles wretchedly and slumped with dejection as the door closed.
Joyce quickly asked him if he’d like some hot chocolate and marshmallows. Wesley shook his head, said ‘No, thank you, Mrs Summers’ and asked if he could please read before bedtime. Joyce said, of course, and gave Buffy a look as if to say that she passed all decision-making over to her. Buffy asked brightly what he wanted to read. Wesley was already looking at the books Giles had brought over earlier. “Please could I read by myself?”
Buffy sighed and looked at Willow who said gently: “Don’t you think you could work better in the morning when you’re not so tired, Wesley?”
“I just want to read one chapter.” He picked up his notebook and his pen. “And make a few notes.”
Joyce and Willow both looked at Buffy who now realized she was going to have to be the ogre. Which sucked. “Not tonight, Wesley. It’s late and you need your sleep.”
“Please let me read it.” Tears sprang into his eyes. “I want to be good.”
Willow looked as if she was about to start crying just in sympathy. “Sweetie, you’re always good. Giles isn’t cross with you. You do know Giles isn’t cross with you, don’t you? He just wants you to be safe because he couldn’t bear it if anything bad happened to you.”
Buffy sank down next to him. “Do you think you have to do homework to make Giles happy?”
“I don’t want him to be angry with me.”
“I promise you, cross my heart and hope to die, that he’s not angry with you, Wesley. You can do all the work you want to tomorrow, okay?”
Cordelia made a strangled noise and jerked her head at his clothes. Buffy grimaced. “Okay, you can work for two hours tomorrow morning after breakfast. And then you can come shopping with Cordelia and me, and then you can have lunch, and then you can work all afternoon if you want to. But tonight you need to get some sleep.”
“Yes, Buffy.” He sadly put his notebook and pen back down again, looked longingly at the reference books but took her hand when she held it out to him. He was clearly afraid of being scolded again.
They took him upstairs where he sombrely brushed his teeth and got into his pyjamas, sitting miserably in the bed even when Willow tried to get Cuthbert to perform a happy little dance for him. Buffy produced his C.S. Lewis with a flourish but he just got tears in his eyes again and had to bite his lip and they realized it was just bringing back memories of the happy days when Giles hadn’t been forced to scold him because of his appallingly bad behaviour of contemplated disobedience.
When the phone rang, Buffy pounced on it desperately and at that tentative stammer on the other end, said, “Oh thank god.”
Giles said tentatively: “Is he…upset…?”
“Yes.”
“Does he think I’m angry with him?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think I should talk to him?”
“Yes, please.” Buffy handed the phone to Wesley, saying, “It’s Giles, he wants to talk to you.”
Wesley looked big-eyed with anxiety and took the phone tentatively. “Uncle Giles…?”
Buffy watched anxiously as Wesley talked to Giles. She saw the boy’s fingers relax a little on the phone after a moment. Then there was a smile. And then a laugh. Willow and Buffy exchanged a look of relief. Then Wesley laughed again and then nodded and said, “Oh yes, I’d really like to do that. Buffy says I have to go shopping but afterwards I can do some research for you…”
Buffy could hear Giles on the other end of the phone saying: “Well, only for a few hours at a time, Wesley. Then you must remember to take a break and go and do something else.”
“Am I allowed to do another spell with Willow, Uncle Giles?”
“Yes, as long as it’s something that’s very safe and very well supervised. Tell Willow that I’m trusting her to be sensible.”
“Yes, Uncle Giles.”
“Do you want to say goodnight to Xander and Oz…?”
“Yes, please.” There was a pause and then Wesley giggled again and said, “That’s silly!” and then rolled his eyes but held the phone to Cuthbert’s ear, then listened and then giggled some more. By the time he handed the phone back to Buffy he was laughing as if he’d been tickled and Willow hastily distracted him with more Cuthbert play.
Buffy said in relief: “Thanks, Giles.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. I guess he really needs approval from those male authority figures…”
“I’m afraid he probably always will. Goodnight, Buffy.”
“Goodnight, Giles.” She put down the phone and said to Willow: “We’re all starting to sound like the Waltons.” Turning to Wesley, she added brightly: “Are you sure you don’t want that hot chocolate with marshmallows because Willow and I are going to have some…?”
He lit up at that and said tentatively: “If it’s not too much trouble, Buffy, yes please.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” She kissed him on top of the head and then scooted out into the corridor where Cordelia was standing anxiously.
“Is he okay?” Cordelia asked. “Should we call Giles?”
“Giles phoned. Wesley’s fine. Do you want hot chocolate?”
Cordelia looked tempted. “Do you have marshmallows…?”
Five minutes later she and Cordelia were raiding the kitchen for cookies, marshmallows, and hot chocolate while reassuring Joyce that Wesley was fine now and would presumably be extra safe on account of never wanting to risk the ire of Giles again.
“Parenting really sucks though,” Buffy observed in between nibbles of a cookie.
Joyce looked at her. “Gee, who knew?”
“Okay, if you could switch off Sarcastic Mom mode, I’m just saying, no one ever told me that you tell them they can’t study all night or go out and kill vampires and they look at you as if you’re the Grinch Who Stole Christmas and you get all the guilt but you have to do it anyway because otherwise they could get themselves overtired or killed and…”
“And again I’m right there with the ‘who knew?’” Joyce retorted.
Buffy and Cordelia looked at each other, decided they weren’t going to get any sense out of Joyce in this situation, and headed back to Buffy’s bedroom, where they found Willow and Wesley excitedly discussing what spell they could do tomorrow. Buffy gave Willow a reproving look and Willow held up her finger and thumb. “It’s a really small spell. Ooh, cookies!”
Cordelia looked lofty, but still sat on Buffy’s bed, sipped her hot chocolate, ate cookies and was seen playing with Cuthbert when she thought no one was looking. By the time they all got back into their beds - Cordelia looking more and more reluctant at having to return to the lonely comparative grandeur of the guest bedroom - Wesley was filled with cookies and hot chocolate, happy, giggling, and sleepy. He curled up between Willow and Buffy as Buffy kissed his head and Willow petted him absently as if he were a kitten. By the time Angel woke them up by calling to ask how Wesley was they had been asleep for almost ten minutes, and by the time Giles phoned to double check that Wesley really was all right and not still upset they had been back to sleep after the Angel call for fifteen minutes.
Buffy put her woolly hat on the phone to muffle any further calls and rolled over, snuggling Wesley against her. “Sheesh those guys are paranoid,” she murmured as they drifted back to sleep for the third and final time.
***
The next day, Wesley could hardly wait to get back to his researching. The phone call from Giles had reassured him and let him have a good night’s sleep but he was clearly still desperate to win Giles’s approval. Willow headed into school - she admitted it was difficult for her to help herself - while Buffy and Cordelia applied their nail polish and make up while keeping an eye on Wesley’s swot-a-thon - as Cordelia had named it.
At eleven o’clock exactly, Cordelia said firmly: “Time’s up.”
Wesley gave her the big pleading eyes. “But I…”
“But nothing. The books aren’t going anywhere and I’m so bored I’m about ready to eat this nail polish. It’s time you got some clothes that fit.”
Buffy realized that in some ways Wesley really was just like other little boys as although he loved to be in their company and was very impressed with Cordelia’s bitchmobile (as Buffy was very careful not to call it in his hearing), buying clothes just didn’t interest him at all. The only difference between him and the other little kids in the clothes’ store was that he didn’t whine ‘Mo-om… Must I…?’ every time Cordelia produced a new item of clothing and demanded that he tried it on.
Buffy was surprised to find that the same Cordelia who didn’t seem to have a clue about anything to do with politics or literature, not to mention ethics, had a mind like a steel trap when it came to knowing exactly what clothing went with what. The stores Buffy had been thinking of, Cordelia said they weren’t even going to enter. She dragged Buffy into a designer place where she insisted there would be extra narrow fittings that would be more appropriate for Wesley. She had a very clear idea of how she wanted Wesley to look, and Buffy found herself constantly overruled as she tentatively suggested that shirt looked good, or how about those pants…?
She did manage to find some jeans and a t-shirt in an extra narrow fitting that did actually fit and Cordelia allowed those to pass but then they reached an impasse until finally Buffy said: “Here’s a novel idea. Why don’t we let Wesley choose?”
Cordelia looked at Wesley. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“You like his suit, don’t you? Big Wesley’s suit.”
“Yes, but for all we know his mother chose it for him.”
“Let’s have a little faith…”
Wesley surprised probably no one by picking corduroy pants and button down shirts. Cordelia was distracted by a very nice charcoal grey flannel dress pants and vest until Buffy pointed out that they alone cost a hundred and fifty dollars, a hundred dollars over their budget, and would only be suitable for Wesley going to weddings.
“But they’re the closest thing I’ve seen to what he wears as an adult,” Cordelia pointed out.
“But he’s a kid now. He should be able to do the whole childish things…thing.”
“Oh!” Cordelia snatched a shirt off the rack. “Look at this classic blue pinpoint oxford dress shirt! Isn’t it to die for?”
“And look at the $54 price-tag for one shirt, Cordy. Think budget, here.”
Cordelia came back after a moment with a pair of cargo pants and a pair of chinos. “These are reduced from thirty dollars each to half price. They’re a steal!”
Buffy conceded to her on the cargo pants but made her give back the chinos, gave in on the polo shirt, suggested they took the button down oxford shirt Wesley had liked, decisively vetoed the blue gabardine pants with double pleats, and pounced on a couple of cotton weave plaid shirts that were on the reduced rack and which Wesley also liked. But they both fell hard for the tan and navy pullover sweater with navy twill pants. Buffy put in ten dollars of her allowance and Cordelia said, “Oh what the he…heck” and put in forty dollars of her own money. Which meant that the no more than fifty dollars agreed with Giles ended up being no more than fifty dollars of Giles’ money but another seventy dollars of Buffy, Cordelia, and Joyce’s.
Buffy winced guiltily at the checkout and distracted Wesley so he wouldn’t see the total and gasp in horror. Cordelia said firmly, “What Giles doesn’t know, can’t hurt him, and at least now Wesley has some clothes that fit.”
Buffy then insisted on darting into the bargain clothing place with Wesley - Cordelia refused to even set foot inside the place - and grabbed some khaki shorts and t-shirts that weren’t a perfect fit but were better than the ones she and Giles had grabbed when in a hurry to clothe a confused and tearful child wearing only a pyjama jacket.
Cordelia sniffed haughtily, told Buffy she had no taste, but then surprised the girl again by buying lunch for all of them in a really good restaurant, where Cordelia and Buffy preened over Wesley’s perfect table manners as if they had actually played a part in him having them. In fact the family at the next table had children with equally perfect table manners but Wesley had an English accent to go with his, which Buffy and Cordelia both felt meant that he won on points.
Given how much fun they had had buying him clothes it was a little bit upsetting that he was so much more excited to be able to rush back to the pulse-racing thrill ride that was his reference books. Buffy sighed. “Well, at least we tried the retail therapy route.”
Cordelia shrugged. “I feel soothed.”
They watched Wesley turning pages rapidly and making notes for a moment and then looked at each other and conceded defeat. “It’s not that he doesn’t know how to have fun,” Buffy offered. “He just really wants to help Giles with this pure demons thing.”
“Yeah, that’s it. If he wasn’t so keen on making Giles give him the praise Daddy never did then he’d be out there floating boats on the lake like a normal little boy.” Cordelia sighed and ate some chips. “Who am I kidding?”
Buffy looked at her. “You still like Big Wesley though, right?”
Cordelia shrugged and took another handful of chips. “I don’t know how I’m going to feel. I mean - I love little Wesley. I want…nothing bad to happen to him ever. But it’s going to be kind of strange looking at this guy who was so…mysterious and new and different again and knowing that I gave him a bath.”
“Giles doesn’t think he’ll remember any of this.”
Cordelia bit her lip. “I hate that.”
“Why? Won’t it get round the whole awkward thing?”
“But this is the childhood he never got to have. Don’t you think he’d be happy to remember it?”
Buffy thought about that uptight guy in his shiny suit. “I don’t think he’d want us to see him vulnerable and…small and scared. Big Wesley’s all about the image, isn’t he? All about being the Council’s representative, and the power invested in him, and in control guy who wears the right clothes and says the right things, and never ever lets it all spiral away from him. There’s not much that’s in control about being eight years old again. Especially as it obviously pretty much sucked for him the first time around.”
Wesley spent the afternoon writing at a frantic rate, checking and rechecking things until he was clearly past the fun stage and well into the very, very anxious stage. At a look from Cordelia, Buffy suggested a snack and a drink, and perhaps a walk? Wesley agreed to the snack and the drink but looked upset by the idea of the walk, clearly not wanting to leave the reference books.
“How about if I read through it for you?” Buffy suggested.
Wesley gazed up at her. “Do you read these languages?”
Buffy looked at the essay and realized that there were several indented paragraphs in entirely different scripts and/or languages. Wesley had evidently copied these out painstakingly from the original source and then translated them underneath. Which explained why this had taken him so long.
“Couldn’t you just put the name of the book and the page number and let Giles look it up himself when you come to something in - what language is this anyway?”
“It’s Hebrew.” Wesley turned the page. “That’s German. That’s Latin. That’s Akkadian.”
“It’s scary how much you know,” Buffy observed.
“But I don’t know enough!” he protested. “I don’t understand this part of the German and I don’t think I got that line right, and I think I’ve got the Latin wrong, and my cuneiform is all squiggly and it’s supposed to be clean straight lines!”
Buffy picked him up and he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. “I’m so stupid,” he said miserably. “And my head hurts.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’ve got to stop driving yourself so hard.” She stroked his hair gently. “You have no idea how clever you are.”
“There are so many things I don’t know!” he wailed. “I wanted to help Mr Giles, but I didn’t do it right. I hate being small and stupid.”
She sat him on the kitchen counter. “You’re not stupid. You’re as far away from stupid as it’s possible to be. Now, stop saying that. You’re just worn out with working for too long.” She felt his forehead and it was very hot. “Your head must be pounding. Let me find you some Junior aspirin.”
She was still looking for the aspirin when Willow walked in and seemed to take in the situation at a glance. She picked Wesley up and hugged him and said how great his clothes were.
“Nice try, Willow,” Cordelia put in. “But they’re the ones he was wearing before. We haven’t got him to change into the good stuff yet - he’s been too busy obsessing over his work for Giles.”
“Do you want a hand with that or do you want to work on a spell?” Willow asked brightly.
“I’ve finished but it isn’t any good,” he said unhappily.
“Well, sometimes, I do a piece of work and I think it sucks with all the powers of suckage but then I put it away for a couple of days and when I look at it again you know, it’s not so bad at all. So, why don’t we just put that essay over there… And just pile the books up here… And abracadabra we have a nice clear space where we can do a teensy weensy spell for moving inanimate objects. So, if you want the remote for the TV and it’s on the other side of the room and someone has his head on your lap, say, and you don’t want to disturb him but he’s asleep and you really don’t want to watch the football, especially when there’s a really good black and white film on the other channel with James Stewart in it… There you go.”
Buffy watched as Willow got Wesley to unwind. He still seemed below par to her; that brightness had gone out of him. He was having fun but it didn’t feel the as if it was fun on the same level it had been before. Was it something she or Cordelia had done? Or was his need to study and to work too overpowering? Or was it just conditioning from having tried so hard for so long to get praise from a parent who clearly almost never praised? Or was it always going to be All About Giles? Wesley loved his new adopted ‘sisters’ and ‘brothers’ but, as an only child, they weren’t people who mirrored anyone else. It was his father’s love and respect he seemed to crave the most and the only people who could provide that were those who most closely approximated to Daddy. Giles and Angel. She winced then as she realized that when Wesley had been an adult the two people he had wronged and annoyed the most were undoubtedly Giles and Angel. No possibilities of affection or praise there from the two oldest alpha males around. He had only received some affirmation from a teenage girl and although it had clearly made Wesley happy she wasn’t sure that even Cordelia throwing herself at him would have made him feel better about himself.
Wesley did smile when the spell was completed and look a little happier, but he still seemed generally out of sorts.
Cordelia looked at him critically. “If you ask me, he’s over-tired from all that thinking he keeps doing.” She rose to her feet and said firmly: “Wesley.”
He looked up at her anxiously. “Yes, Cordelia?”
“You’re coming with me to watch cartoons.”
Gazing up at the implacable young woman in her impeccable shoes, Wesley clearly did not even contemplate rebellion. “Yes, Cordelia.” When she held out her hand he took it, and she led him to the living room, the couch, and the television. A few moments later, Buffy and Willow heard the sound of cartoons.
“I guess that’s how you do it then,” Buffy observed.
Willow shrugged. “Apparently so.”
They drank tea and ate cookies until Giles arrived. Again, it hadn’t been arranged that Giles would arrive, of course, but they had both known that he would.
There was a ring on the doorbell and Buffy hurried to open it, stuffing a cookie into her mouth as she did so. Giles looked at her still chewing as she sprayed crumbs around and raised an eyebrow. “What if I’d been Angel?”
She pointed at the world outside. “Daylight.”
“Uncle Giles?”
Buffy stepped aside so Giles could come in, the man’s attention already focused on the little boy standing in the doorway. Giles’ face broke into a smile of relief. “Wesley…” Seeing the little boy still standing there, uncertainly, he strode across the room and swept him into his arms for a hug. “I had bad dreams all night that you were lost in the graveyard. They were really extraordinarily vivid…” He hugged the boy close while Wesley put his arms around his neck and just melted into the hug, the way he always did, his bony little body trying to absorb all possible affection it was offered, like a lizard in search of the sun.
“Prophetic dreams?” Buffy asked anxiously.
Still hugging the boy, Giles said, “I don’t actually have prophetic dreams, Buffy. That’s your domain. What did you dream about last night?”
“Donuts. And…math. I don’t have to take calculus, right? Because I dreamed I did and I don’t even know what it is.”
“You probably caught the end of that movie with Edward James Olmos again,” Willow pointed out. “I love that movie. It’s so inspiring.”
Giles reluctantly put Wesley back down and crouched down next to him, gazing at the boy with a smile. “I missed you. You seem to have been at Buffy’s for a week at least. I have no excuse to play with any of those toys.”
“He’s kind of pooped,” Buffy explained. “He insisted on working on that research he wanted to do for you and I think he’s just worn himself out.”
“I was making him take a break.” Cordelia looked down at Giles disapprovingly. “I was ensuring he took a rest from stuffy research things.”
“Well done, Cordelia.” Giles picked Wesley up again in a way that suggested they were only going to be separated by brute force or a flamethrower while Wesley curled up against Giles again with a little sigh of contentment.
As Wesley clung to him and Giles could sense his lethargy and anxiety. He wondered if this was all on account of the near-scolding he had received. He was an extraordinarily sensitive little boy. Things that might roll off other children like water from a duck’s back burned right into him. He was so upset by any criticism, so grateful for any praise. Thinking of him bring brought up in an environment of constant criticism and apparently no praise was almost as upsetting as thinking of all the ways in which - now he knew how the man functioned - Giles had been shredding Wesley’s self-esteem since he first arrived in Sunnydale.
“I tried to do that research…” Wesley murmured. “But I couldn’t get my brain to work.”
“Let’s have a look.” Giles sat Wesley down on the table and looked at his essay, keeping an arm around the boy as he did so. For an eight year old, it was an extraordinary piece of work, of course, but there were a few mistakes in the translations, and some crossings out. Looking on the table he could see this was Wesley’s third attempt.
“It’s not very good, is it?” Wesley gazed at him fearfully. “I couldn’t think straight.”
“It’s very good.” Giles felt his forehead, which was hot. “It’s very well set out. You’ve cross-referenced everything perfectly. I’ve taught students at college with far inferior working methods to yours.”
“But I couldn’t remember what the words meant…” Wesley slumped against him, miserably. “I’m so stupid today.”
Giles looked across at Buffy. “His head seems hot.”
“He has a headache. I’ve given him some Junior aspirin. We think he’s just worn himself out. He’s been working so hard.”
“And he had a few late nights while staying with me,” Giles admitted.
“Cartoons,” Cordelia observed. “That’s what he needs. Something to do that’s not about demons and monsters and werewolves and vampires. He needs a normal childhood.”
“It’s a little difficult to give him a ‘normal childhood’ when he’s only eight years old in the first place because of the intervention of a mystical amulet, has already begun his training as a Watcher, and is friends with a Slayer, a Vampire, and a Werewolf,” Giles pointed out.
“All the more reason why he needs cartoons.” Cordelia plucked him from Giles’s arms. “You want to spend time with Wesley, you can spend time with the Simpsons as well.”
Giles had a brief struggle with his dignity and his pressing need to be with the little boy; the fear he had felt after his nightmare not yet having left him; then his dignity lost, and he snatched Wesley back. “Fine. I’ll watch cartoons.” He carried Wesley into the living room while Willow and Buffy exchanged a look.
“I think you may have to fight to keep him tonight,” Willow murmured.
“Tonight is our last night with him,” Buffy protested. “Giles is not getting him back early.”
“He seems to need Giles so much.” Willow sat down a little mournfully and reached for another cookie.
“I keep thinking about that,” Buffy admitted. “Wondering if he needed the same things when he was…big. Someone around to approve of him, and tell him he was doing the right thing.”
Willow grimaced. “He didn’t really get that, at all, did he?”
“Well, he kind of wasn’t doing the right thing. He was kind of doing the annoying thing most of the time.” She put her head on her arms and sighed heavily. “When he changes back into Big Wesley, I’m going to miss him so much. I am never having children. And I mean never.”
“Me neither.” Willow slumped next to her. “It would be too upsetting. And what about looking at their little baby clothes after they didn’t fit them any more? And those old toys they never played with?”
“Hey, what’s the with the long faces…?” Xander demanded. “Is everything okay? Is Wesley okay?”
“He has a headache,” said Willow tragically.
Xander bit his lip. “Okay. I can see how that could be considered a major tragedy - although not necessarily in a town where vampires regularly rise up and try to kill us, half the people we were in Junior High with are now dusted members of the undead, and Buffy had to send her honey to hell to stop the world being sucked into a demon dimension.”
“You’re just quibbling,” Willow murmured.
Xander looked at them suspiciously. “You haven’t been babysitting some energy sucking eggs, have you?”
“Wesley didn’t really enjoy his spell making class today,” Willow protested.
“And he got really anxious about his research.”
Xander sighed and sat down next to Buffy while Oz began to gently massage Willow’s shoulders. “Wesley was born to be anxious. He can’t help it. He’s a Watcher. And headaches happen, even to really cute little kids. There should be a law against it, I know, but still - it happens.”
“We don’t want him to be big again,” Willow said wretchedly.
Oz said, “But being little can have something of the suck about it.”
“If he was going to stay this size, he would have to go to school,” Xander pointed out. “The Council would come sniffing around here. His father would probably find out.”
Willow looked up at him aghast. “No!”
“Logically, how would we keep it from them for ten years? Forge his handwriting and write them notes explaining that he won’t be home for Christmas…ever. The school authorities would come sniffing around. Social services would find out. Wesley being a child again only isn’t a problem because it’s temporary.”
Buffy said, “I hate it when Xander is the most sensible person in the room.”
Wesley seemed out of sorts for the rest of the day. He was clingy and quiet and tired. Giles suspected that a child who had ever been given a little more kindness and attention in the past would probably have been grizzly and whiney as well, but Wesley was just lethargic and a little tearful. He didn’t seem to mind who he was with out of all of them, although Giles and Buffy were still his favourites, but he did need to be cuddled pretty much the whole time. It didn’t help that Angel couldn’t make it. He called to say that a group of vampires had managed to eat an entire family the night before and he needed to trace them to their lair and get rid of them. Wesley got very agitated then and insisted that Buffy went with him, while Buffy was pretty agitated herself, both at the thought of Angel taking on a whole group of vampires, and of leaving Wesley.
“We’ll all be here,” Giles reassured her. “We won’t invite any vampires in and if Faith calls we won’t let her in either. And as the Mayor has probably had a chance to hide his files by now anyway, Willow may not be such a threat.”
“And let’s not forget that we’re all badass vampire killers in our own right,” Xander added.
Willow shrugged. “We did stake slightly more vampires than we let get away while you were in LA. So, I guess we qualify as ‘badasses’.”
Cordy just looked at Buffy. “Hey, you’ve seen me fight with a spatula. Just think about what I can do with a stake.”
Buffy kissed Wesley, who was in Giles’s arms, and said, “Take care of him. I’ll be back soon.”
Joyce offered everyone lots of cups of tea, and looked at Wesley anxiously, who kept cuddling up to Giles and probably would have been whining if whining had ever got him anything in the past, but as it hadn’t, just sombrely sucked his thumb and clutched Giles’s jacket as if the man might slip away with Buffy and Angel if not physically anchored. Giles read to him from The Magician’s Nephew which definitely seemed to help keep him distracted from worrying about Angel and Buffy, and, somewhat bizarrely, Giles thought, it seemed to soothe Xander, Cordelia and Willow too. Oz didn’t exactly need soothing, having apparently never learned how to be tense, but he also joined them on the couch, his arm around Willow’s shoulders as they all listened to the story. Joyce quietly sat in the corner with a cup of tea and listened as well.
In the middle of reading, Giles became aware of them all silently sitting on the couch or the arms of the couch, Willow holding Cuthbert, and all listening avidly. He paused and Xander looked at him in confusion:
“Why are you stopping? You can’t stop now!”
Giles looked around at them. “Don’t you know this story?”
“My father wouldn’t let me read these on account of them being a Christian allegory,” Willow explained. “I mean - I did, but I felt guilty and I had to hide the books. It’s really nice hearing it read aloud and without so much of the guilt thing.”
“My parents don’t believe in reading to children,” Xander explained. “Or - you know - interacting with children if it’s possible to avoid them at all times.”
“My nannies were always Mexican or Venezuelan or Portuguese or something, so they didn’t really read English that well,” Cordelia added. “They used to read to me from magazines about movie star break ups and scandals.”
“Don’t you mean Puerto Rican?” Willow asked.
“Whatever,” Cordelia shrugged.
“I read to Buffy,” Joyce offered.
Everyone looked at her and then Xander gave her a thumbs up. “Well done on the parenting thing, Mrs Summers.”
Willow nodded. “Yes, reading to kids - really good thing to do.”
“I couldn’t always do the voices,” Joyce admitted.
“The thing is you tried,” Xander assured her. “That’s what matters.”
Wesley looked up at Giles and took his thumb out of his mouth to say: “Please, Uncle Giles. I want to know what happens.”
Sighing, Giles went back to the story, wondering not for the first time exactly how many people he was parenting some days, because for an unmarried, childless bachelor, he did sometimes feel uncomfortably like a father of six.
***
“Giles…? Giles, please come quickly! Giles…?”
Giles realized he had the phone in his hand and had evidently reached for it while still more than half asleep, but the desperation in Buffy’s voice jolted him into full wakefulness with all the painful immediacy of a cold shower.
“What is it?”
“It’s Wesley.” She sounded as if she were either crying or about to cry. “Please, I know I overreacted before, but this time he’s really ill. He’s burning up and he’s so restless and he’s crying in his sleep. There was a break in at the gallery and Mom got called over there and Cordelia is sick and I don’t think I can drive her car. I’d be too scared to drive it with Wesley in it…”
He was already pulling on his trousers over his pyjamas. “Buffy, don’t panic. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes and I’ll drive you straight to the hospital.”
As he staggered down the stairs he thought about how listless and clingy Wesley had been all evening, with what great misgivings he had said goodnight to him when all he wanted to do was take him home with him; how when Buffy had got back from Slaying without Angel, Wesley had been so upset and worried about him that they’d had to phone the vampire so that Wesley could hear his voice and know that he was alive. Buffy had promised that he would take him straight up to bed and let him sleep late in the morning so he could rest properly and how she would make sure he didn’t do any more schoolwork on the next day. He should have known that it was something more serious. He should have taken him to the hospital then instead of deciding to ‘leave it for twenty four hours and see how he is…’
Stupid, Giles told himself fiercely. Stupid, stupid decision...
Buffy had to pretty much shove all the males out of the door at the end of the evening. Angel offered to patrol in her place - which she gratefully accepted. Wesley asked if he could patrol with Angel - and then looked sulky and cross when everyone recoiled in horror from that suggestion. Joyce said anxiously that he was probably over-tired and Xander pointed out that he was just learning to be a real live boy. Buffy swept him up into her arms, very relieved that it was Angel being whammied with the ‘you big meanie’ eyes instead of her. Wesley sulked sleepily against her shoulder but obligingly hugged everyone who asked for a hug as they said ‘Goodnight’.
Angel said, “Don’t be like that, Wesley. You can come on patrol with me and Buffy when you’re…bigger.”
Buffy noted and approved the neat sidestepping of ‘older’ there, which would have probably led to Wesley protesting that he already was older, so there.
Wesley still looked mutinous until Angel was almost out of the door when he looked panicky. “But, you shouldn’t go by yourself! What if there were lots of vampires and they surrounded you! There won’t be anyone to tell you they’re behind you. Buffy should go with you to protect you.”
Joyce looked between the six feet tall Angel and the five feet tall Buffy. “Isn’t that a little…strange? That Wesley thinks of a girl like Buffy as someone who needs to take care of a big male vampire?”
“Buffy’s a Slayer,” Wesley explained. “They’re stronger than anyone. Even Angel.”
Buffy looked smugly at Angel. “The urge to stick my tongue out is almost impossible to resist.”
“Buffy has to stay here to take care of Willow,” Giles explained. “But I’m sure if you ask him then Angel will promise to be careful and not to take any foolish risks.”
Angel gave Giles an ‘I’ll get you for that later’ look which he transferred to Xander when the young man said brightly: “And to call you as soon as he gets home to say he’s arrived safely.”
“I’m a vampire,” Angel protested.
“Hence the pretentious coat. Doesn’t mean you get out of the calling home thing.”
Wesley gave Angel an imploring look. “Please, Angel, otherwise I’ll think something bad has happened to you.”
Willow and Buffy added their ‘please, please’ looks and Angel rolled his eyes and gave in. “Okay, fine. I used to be the vampire with a soul. Now, I’m the vampire who phones home. Goodnight.” He stomped off, turned around, came back - Buffy brightened in expectation of a kiss - kissed Wesley on the forehead, murmured ‘Sweet dreams’ to him and then walked off.
Buffy said: “Huh!”
Cordelia inclined her head. “That guy is so over you.”
Wesley looked after Angel and got a look of resolve on his face that was very worrying, especially as he then ducked his head so no one could see his resolved face. Xander nudged Giles as Buffy also looked at the man. Willow grimaced at him and Xander also made head jerking motions in Wesley’s direction.
Giles lifted Wesley out of Buffy’s arms for his goodnight to Wesley and Wesley curled up against him for a moment.
“Shouldn’t they just be shaking hands in a manly British way?” Xander enquired.
Wesley looked worried. “Should we?”
Giles said, “Ignore Xander, Wesley. He’s an idiot.” He hugged the boy gently but his voice was stern: “I’m trusting you to be sensible and to do as you’re told and not leave the house unless Buffy or another adult gives you permission and is with you at all times. Is that understood?”
Wesley looked up at him a little fearfully. “Yes, Uncle Giles.”
“I don’t want to have to scold you.”
“No, Uncle Giles.” Wesley looked horrified at the idea. “I’ll be good.”
“I know you will.” Giles gave him a gentle hug. “Good night, Wesley.” He handed him back to Buffy, nodded to everyone else and then reeled out of the door.
Xander and Oz both patted him gently on the back as the door closed. “Had to be done, man,” Xander said.
“It’s okay, Giles. We’re here for you,” Oz added.
Giles took off his glasses and wiped his brow. “Oh good Lord, did you see his face? Perhaps I should go back and…”
Xander and Oz both grabbed him. “Giles, he was working up to a flit out of that window after Angel the second everyone else was asleep. We all know it. It was time for the Stern Voice.”
“Well, next time you’ll have to do it,” Giles told Xander. “I’m not going through that again. It was worse that when Willow does that…look.”
Xander and Oz both grimaced at the thought of the Willow look. “When the eyes go all ‘how could you?’” Xander shuddered. “Let’s not even go there.”
“It’s the lip tremble that really hurts,” Oz shivered.
“I need a drink.” Giles looked at the company he was in and sighed. “I really need to get some friends of my own age.”
“Well, you could always call Ethan…?” Oz suggested.
Giles gave him a Look that he hoped spoke volumes and as Xander and Oz climbed into Oz’s van and Giles got into his car, it occurred to him that even if Wesley wasn’t technically his ‘own age’ he was at least legally old enough to drink, and did know what a Test Match was. He decided there and then that when Wesley was big again, even if he was as much of an insufferable prat as he had been before - and given that he wouldn’t remember anything about this time as a child, there seemed no reason for him to change - Giles was still going to invite him out for a drink and some discussion of Merrie Old England.
***
Buffy knew that Giles had been right to call Wesley back from the precipice of disobedience on which he’d been tottering. This town was just too dangerous for a little boy to go running around at night trying to be unofficial stake-carrier for a Slayer or a vampire. But it still hurt to see how crushed he was. He gazed after Giles wretchedly and slumped with dejection as the door closed.
Joyce quickly asked him if he’d like some hot chocolate and marshmallows. Wesley shook his head, said ‘No, thank you, Mrs Summers’ and asked if he could please read before bedtime. Joyce said, of course, and gave Buffy a look as if to say that she passed all decision-making over to her. Buffy asked brightly what he wanted to read. Wesley was already looking at the books Giles had brought over earlier. “Please could I read by myself?”
Buffy sighed and looked at Willow who said gently: “Don’t you think you could work better in the morning when you’re not so tired, Wesley?”
“I just want to read one chapter.” He picked up his notebook and his pen. “And make a few notes.”
Joyce and Willow both looked at Buffy who now realized she was going to have to be the ogre. Which sucked. “Not tonight, Wesley. It’s late and you need your sleep.”
“Please let me read it.” Tears sprang into his eyes. “I want to be good.”
Willow looked as if she was about to start crying just in sympathy. “Sweetie, you’re always good. Giles isn’t cross with you. You do know Giles isn’t cross with you, don’t you? He just wants you to be safe because he couldn’t bear it if anything bad happened to you.”
Buffy sank down next to him. “Do you think you have to do homework to make Giles happy?”
“I don’t want him to be angry with me.”
“I promise you, cross my heart and hope to die, that he’s not angry with you, Wesley. You can do all the work you want to tomorrow, okay?”
Cordelia made a strangled noise and jerked her head at his clothes. Buffy grimaced. “Okay, you can work for two hours tomorrow morning after breakfast. And then you can come shopping with Cordelia and me, and then you can have lunch, and then you can work all afternoon if you want to. But tonight you need to get some sleep.”
“Yes, Buffy.” He sadly put his notebook and pen back down again, looked longingly at the reference books but took her hand when she held it out to him. He was clearly afraid of being scolded again.
They took him upstairs where he sombrely brushed his teeth and got into his pyjamas, sitting miserably in the bed even when Willow tried to get Cuthbert to perform a happy little dance for him. Buffy produced his C.S. Lewis with a flourish but he just got tears in his eyes again and had to bite his lip and they realized it was just bringing back memories of the happy days when Giles hadn’t been forced to scold him because of his appallingly bad behaviour of contemplated disobedience.
When the phone rang, Buffy pounced on it desperately and at that tentative stammer on the other end, said, “Oh thank god.”
Giles said tentatively: “Is he…upset…?”
“Yes.”
“Does he think I’m angry with him?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think I should talk to him?”
“Yes, please.” Buffy handed the phone to Wesley, saying, “It’s Giles, he wants to talk to you.”
Wesley looked big-eyed with anxiety and took the phone tentatively. “Uncle Giles…?”
Buffy watched anxiously as Wesley talked to Giles. She saw the boy’s fingers relax a little on the phone after a moment. Then there was a smile. And then a laugh. Willow and Buffy exchanged a look of relief. Then Wesley laughed again and then nodded and said, “Oh yes, I’d really like to do that. Buffy says I have to go shopping but afterwards I can do some research for you…”
Buffy could hear Giles on the other end of the phone saying: “Well, only for a few hours at a time, Wesley. Then you must remember to take a break and go and do something else.”
“Am I allowed to do another spell with Willow, Uncle Giles?”
“Yes, as long as it’s something that’s very safe and very well supervised. Tell Willow that I’m trusting her to be sensible.”
“Yes, Uncle Giles.”
“Do you want to say goodnight to Xander and Oz…?”
“Yes, please.” There was a pause and then Wesley giggled again and said, “That’s silly!” and then rolled his eyes but held the phone to Cuthbert’s ear, then listened and then giggled some more. By the time he handed the phone back to Buffy he was laughing as if he’d been tickled and Willow hastily distracted him with more Cuthbert play.
Buffy said in relief: “Thanks, Giles.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. I guess he really needs approval from those male authority figures…”
“I’m afraid he probably always will. Goodnight, Buffy.”
“Goodnight, Giles.” She put down the phone and said to Willow: “We’re all starting to sound like the Waltons.” Turning to Wesley, she added brightly: “Are you sure you don’t want that hot chocolate with marshmallows because Willow and I are going to have some…?”
He lit up at that and said tentatively: “If it’s not too much trouble, Buffy, yes please.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” She kissed him on top of the head and then scooted out into the corridor where Cordelia was standing anxiously.
“Is he okay?” Cordelia asked. “Should we call Giles?”
“Giles phoned. Wesley’s fine. Do you want hot chocolate?”
Cordelia looked tempted. “Do you have marshmallows…?”
Five minutes later she and Cordelia were raiding the kitchen for cookies, marshmallows, and hot chocolate while reassuring Joyce that Wesley was fine now and would presumably be extra safe on account of never wanting to risk the ire of Giles again.
“Parenting really sucks though,” Buffy observed in between nibbles of a cookie.
Joyce looked at her. “Gee, who knew?”
“Okay, if you could switch off Sarcastic Mom mode, I’m just saying, no one ever told me that you tell them they can’t study all night or go out and kill vampires and they look at you as if you’re the Grinch Who Stole Christmas and you get all the guilt but you have to do it anyway because otherwise they could get themselves overtired or killed and…”
“And again I’m right there with the ‘who knew?’” Joyce retorted.
Buffy and Cordelia looked at each other, decided they weren’t going to get any sense out of Joyce in this situation, and headed back to Buffy’s bedroom, where they found Willow and Wesley excitedly discussing what spell they could do tomorrow. Buffy gave Willow a reproving look and Willow held up her finger and thumb. “It’s a really small spell. Ooh, cookies!”
Cordelia looked lofty, but still sat on Buffy’s bed, sipped her hot chocolate, ate cookies and was seen playing with Cuthbert when she thought no one was looking. By the time they all got back into their beds - Cordelia looking more and more reluctant at having to return to the lonely comparative grandeur of the guest bedroom - Wesley was filled with cookies and hot chocolate, happy, giggling, and sleepy. He curled up between Willow and Buffy as Buffy kissed his head and Willow petted him absently as if he were a kitten. By the time Angel woke them up by calling to ask how Wesley was they had been asleep for almost ten minutes, and by the time Giles phoned to double check that Wesley really was all right and not still upset they had been back to sleep after the Angel call for fifteen minutes.
Buffy put her woolly hat on the phone to muffle any further calls and rolled over, snuggling Wesley against her. “Sheesh those guys are paranoid,” she murmured as they drifted back to sleep for the third and final time.
***
The next day, Wesley could hardly wait to get back to his researching. The phone call from Giles had reassured him and let him have a good night’s sleep but he was clearly still desperate to win Giles’s approval. Willow headed into school - she admitted it was difficult for her to help herself - while Buffy and Cordelia applied their nail polish and make up while keeping an eye on Wesley’s swot-a-thon - as Cordelia had named it.
At eleven o’clock exactly, Cordelia said firmly: “Time’s up.”
Wesley gave her the big pleading eyes. “But I…”
“But nothing. The books aren’t going anywhere and I’m so bored I’m about ready to eat this nail polish. It’s time you got some clothes that fit.”
Buffy realized that in some ways Wesley really was just like other little boys as although he loved to be in their company and was very impressed with Cordelia’s bitchmobile (as Buffy was very careful not to call it in his hearing), buying clothes just didn’t interest him at all. The only difference between him and the other little kids in the clothes’ store was that he didn’t whine ‘Mo-om… Must I…?’ every time Cordelia produced a new item of clothing and demanded that he tried it on.
Buffy was surprised to find that the same Cordelia who didn’t seem to have a clue about anything to do with politics or literature, not to mention ethics, had a mind like a steel trap when it came to knowing exactly what clothing went with what. The stores Buffy had been thinking of, Cordelia said they weren’t even going to enter. She dragged Buffy into a designer place where she insisted there would be extra narrow fittings that would be more appropriate for Wesley. She had a very clear idea of how she wanted Wesley to look, and Buffy found herself constantly overruled as she tentatively suggested that shirt looked good, or how about those pants…?
She did manage to find some jeans and a t-shirt in an extra narrow fitting that did actually fit and Cordelia allowed those to pass but then they reached an impasse until finally Buffy said: “Here’s a novel idea. Why don’t we let Wesley choose?”
Cordelia looked at Wesley. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“You like his suit, don’t you? Big Wesley’s suit.”
“Yes, but for all we know his mother chose it for him.”
“Let’s have a little faith…”
Wesley surprised probably no one by picking corduroy pants and button down shirts. Cordelia was distracted by a very nice charcoal grey flannel dress pants and vest until Buffy pointed out that they alone cost a hundred and fifty dollars, a hundred dollars over their budget, and would only be suitable for Wesley going to weddings.
“But they’re the closest thing I’ve seen to what he wears as an adult,” Cordelia pointed out.
“But he’s a kid now. He should be able to do the whole childish things…thing.”
“Oh!” Cordelia snatched a shirt off the rack. “Look at this classic blue pinpoint oxford dress shirt! Isn’t it to die for?”
“And look at the $54 price-tag for one shirt, Cordy. Think budget, here.”
Cordelia came back after a moment with a pair of cargo pants and a pair of chinos. “These are reduced from thirty dollars each to half price. They’re a steal!”
Buffy conceded to her on the cargo pants but made her give back the chinos, gave in on the polo shirt, suggested they took the button down oxford shirt Wesley had liked, decisively vetoed the blue gabardine pants with double pleats, and pounced on a couple of cotton weave plaid shirts that were on the reduced rack and which Wesley also liked. But they both fell hard for the tan and navy pullover sweater with navy twill pants. Buffy put in ten dollars of her allowance and Cordelia said, “Oh what the he…heck” and put in forty dollars of her own money. Which meant that the no more than fifty dollars agreed with Giles ended up being no more than fifty dollars of Giles’ money but another seventy dollars of Buffy, Cordelia, and Joyce’s.
Buffy winced guiltily at the checkout and distracted Wesley so he wouldn’t see the total and gasp in horror. Cordelia said firmly, “What Giles doesn’t know, can’t hurt him, and at least now Wesley has some clothes that fit.”
Buffy then insisted on darting into the bargain clothing place with Wesley - Cordelia refused to even set foot inside the place - and grabbed some khaki shorts and t-shirts that weren’t a perfect fit but were better than the ones she and Giles had grabbed when in a hurry to clothe a confused and tearful child wearing only a pyjama jacket.
Cordelia sniffed haughtily, told Buffy she had no taste, but then surprised the girl again by buying lunch for all of them in a really good restaurant, where Cordelia and Buffy preened over Wesley’s perfect table manners as if they had actually played a part in him having them. In fact the family at the next table had children with equally perfect table manners but Wesley had an English accent to go with his, which Buffy and Cordelia both felt meant that he won on points.
Given how much fun they had had buying him clothes it was a little bit upsetting that he was so much more excited to be able to rush back to the pulse-racing thrill ride that was his reference books. Buffy sighed. “Well, at least we tried the retail therapy route.”
Cordelia shrugged. “I feel soothed.”
They watched Wesley turning pages rapidly and making notes for a moment and then looked at each other and conceded defeat. “It’s not that he doesn’t know how to have fun,” Buffy offered. “He just really wants to help Giles with this pure demons thing.”
“Yeah, that’s it. If he wasn’t so keen on making Giles give him the praise Daddy never did then he’d be out there floating boats on the lake like a normal little boy.” Cordelia sighed and ate some chips. “Who am I kidding?”
Buffy looked at her. “You still like Big Wesley though, right?”
Cordelia shrugged and took another handful of chips. “I don’t know how I’m going to feel. I mean - I love little Wesley. I want…nothing bad to happen to him ever. But it’s going to be kind of strange looking at this guy who was so…mysterious and new and different again and knowing that I gave him a bath.”
“Giles doesn’t think he’ll remember any of this.”
Cordelia bit her lip. “I hate that.”
“Why? Won’t it get round the whole awkward thing?”
“But this is the childhood he never got to have. Don’t you think he’d be happy to remember it?”
Buffy thought about that uptight guy in his shiny suit. “I don’t think he’d want us to see him vulnerable and…small and scared. Big Wesley’s all about the image, isn’t he? All about being the Council’s representative, and the power invested in him, and in control guy who wears the right clothes and says the right things, and never ever lets it all spiral away from him. There’s not much that’s in control about being eight years old again. Especially as it obviously pretty much sucked for him the first time around.”
Wesley spent the afternoon writing at a frantic rate, checking and rechecking things until he was clearly past the fun stage and well into the very, very anxious stage. At a look from Cordelia, Buffy suggested a snack and a drink, and perhaps a walk? Wesley agreed to the snack and the drink but looked upset by the idea of the walk, clearly not wanting to leave the reference books.
“How about if I read through it for you?” Buffy suggested.
Wesley gazed up at her. “Do you read these languages?”
Buffy looked at the essay and realized that there were several indented paragraphs in entirely different scripts and/or languages. Wesley had evidently copied these out painstakingly from the original source and then translated them underneath. Which explained why this had taken him so long.
“Couldn’t you just put the name of the book and the page number and let Giles look it up himself when you come to something in - what language is this anyway?”
“It’s Hebrew.” Wesley turned the page. “That’s German. That’s Latin. That’s Akkadian.”
“It’s scary how much you know,” Buffy observed.
“But I don’t know enough!” he protested. “I don’t understand this part of the German and I don’t think I got that line right, and I think I’ve got the Latin wrong, and my cuneiform is all squiggly and it’s supposed to be clean straight lines!”
Buffy picked him up and he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. “I’m so stupid,” he said miserably. “And my head hurts.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’ve got to stop driving yourself so hard.” She stroked his hair gently. “You have no idea how clever you are.”
“There are so many things I don’t know!” he wailed. “I wanted to help Mr Giles, but I didn’t do it right. I hate being small and stupid.”
She sat him on the kitchen counter. “You’re not stupid. You’re as far away from stupid as it’s possible to be. Now, stop saying that. You’re just worn out with working for too long.” She felt his forehead and it was very hot. “Your head must be pounding. Let me find you some Junior aspirin.”
She was still looking for the aspirin when Willow walked in and seemed to take in the situation at a glance. She picked Wesley up and hugged him and said how great his clothes were.
“Nice try, Willow,” Cordelia put in. “But they’re the ones he was wearing before. We haven’t got him to change into the good stuff yet - he’s been too busy obsessing over his work for Giles.”
“Do you want a hand with that or do you want to work on a spell?” Willow asked brightly.
“I’ve finished but it isn’t any good,” he said unhappily.
“Well, sometimes, I do a piece of work and I think it sucks with all the powers of suckage but then I put it away for a couple of days and when I look at it again you know, it’s not so bad at all. So, why don’t we just put that essay over there… And just pile the books up here… And abracadabra we have a nice clear space where we can do a teensy weensy spell for moving inanimate objects. So, if you want the remote for the TV and it’s on the other side of the room and someone has his head on your lap, say, and you don’t want to disturb him but he’s asleep and you really don’t want to watch the football, especially when there’s a really good black and white film on the other channel with James Stewart in it… There you go.”
Buffy watched as Willow got Wesley to unwind. He still seemed below par to her; that brightness had gone out of him. He was having fun but it didn’t feel the as if it was fun on the same level it had been before. Was it something she or Cordelia had done? Or was his need to study and to work too overpowering? Or was it just conditioning from having tried so hard for so long to get praise from a parent who clearly almost never praised? Or was it always going to be All About Giles? Wesley loved his new adopted ‘sisters’ and ‘brothers’ but, as an only child, they weren’t people who mirrored anyone else. It was his father’s love and respect he seemed to crave the most and the only people who could provide that were those who most closely approximated to Daddy. Giles and Angel. She winced then as she realized that when Wesley had been an adult the two people he had wronged and annoyed the most were undoubtedly Giles and Angel. No possibilities of affection or praise there from the two oldest alpha males around. He had only received some affirmation from a teenage girl and although it had clearly made Wesley happy she wasn’t sure that even Cordelia throwing herself at him would have made him feel better about himself.
Wesley did smile when the spell was completed and look a little happier, but he still seemed generally out of sorts.
Cordelia looked at him critically. “If you ask me, he’s over-tired from all that thinking he keeps doing.” She rose to her feet and said firmly: “Wesley.”
He looked up at her anxiously. “Yes, Cordelia?”
“You’re coming with me to watch cartoons.”
Gazing up at the implacable young woman in her impeccable shoes, Wesley clearly did not even contemplate rebellion. “Yes, Cordelia.” When she held out her hand he took it, and she led him to the living room, the couch, and the television. A few moments later, Buffy and Willow heard the sound of cartoons.
“I guess that’s how you do it then,” Buffy observed.
Willow shrugged. “Apparently so.”
They drank tea and ate cookies until Giles arrived. Again, it hadn’t been arranged that Giles would arrive, of course, but they had both known that he would.
There was a ring on the doorbell and Buffy hurried to open it, stuffing a cookie into her mouth as she did so. Giles looked at her still chewing as she sprayed crumbs around and raised an eyebrow. “What if I’d been Angel?”
She pointed at the world outside. “Daylight.”
“Uncle Giles?”
Buffy stepped aside so Giles could come in, the man’s attention already focused on the little boy standing in the doorway. Giles’ face broke into a smile of relief. “Wesley…” Seeing the little boy still standing there, uncertainly, he strode across the room and swept him into his arms for a hug. “I had bad dreams all night that you were lost in the graveyard. They were really extraordinarily vivid…” He hugged the boy close while Wesley put his arms around his neck and just melted into the hug, the way he always did, his bony little body trying to absorb all possible affection it was offered, like a lizard in search of the sun.
“Prophetic dreams?” Buffy asked anxiously.
Still hugging the boy, Giles said, “I don’t actually have prophetic dreams, Buffy. That’s your domain. What did you dream about last night?”
“Donuts. And…math. I don’t have to take calculus, right? Because I dreamed I did and I don’t even know what it is.”
“You probably caught the end of that movie with Edward James Olmos again,” Willow pointed out. “I love that movie. It’s so inspiring.”
Giles reluctantly put Wesley back down and crouched down next to him, gazing at the boy with a smile. “I missed you. You seem to have been at Buffy’s for a week at least. I have no excuse to play with any of those toys.”
“He’s kind of pooped,” Buffy explained. “He insisted on working on that research he wanted to do for you and I think he’s just worn himself out.”
“I was making him take a break.” Cordelia looked down at Giles disapprovingly. “I was ensuring he took a rest from stuffy research things.”
“Well done, Cordelia.” Giles picked Wesley up again in a way that suggested they were only going to be separated by brute force or a flamethrower while Wesley curled up against Giles again with a little sigh of contentment.
As Wesley clung to him and Giles could sense his lethargy and anxiety. He wondered if this was all on account of the near-scolding he had received. He was an extraordinarily sensitive little boy. Things that might roll off other children like water from a duck’s back burned right into him. He was so upset by any criticism, so grateful for any praise. Thinking of him bring brought up in an environment of constant criticism and apparently no praise was almost as upsetting as thinking of all the ways in which - now he knew how the man functioned - Giles had been shredding Wesley’s self-esteem since he first arrived in Sunnydale.
“I tried to do that research…” Wesley murmured. “But I couldn’t get my brain to work.”
“Let’s have a look.” Giles sat Wesley down on the table and looked at his essay, keeping an arm around the boy as he did so. For an eight year old, it was an extraordinary piece of work, of course, but there were a few mistakes in the translations, and some crossings out. Looking on the table he could see this was Wesley’s third attempt.
“It’s not very good, is it?” Wesley gazed at him fearfully. “I couldn’t think straight.”
“It’s very good.” Giles felt his forehead, which was hot. “It’s very well set out. You’ve cross-referenced everything perfectly. I’ve taught students at college with far inferior working methods to yours.”
“But I couldn’t remember what the words meant…” Wesley slumped against him, miserably. “I’m so stupid today.”
Giles looked across at Buffy. “His head seems hot.”
“He has a headache. I’ve given him some Junior aspirin. We think he’s just worn himself out. He’s been working so hard.”
“And he had a few late nights while staying with me,” Giles admitted.
“Cartoons,” Cordelia observed. “That’s what he needs. Something to do that’s not about demons and monsters and werewolves and vampires. He needs a normal childhood.”
“It’s a little difficult to give him a ‘normal childhood’ when he’s only eight years old in the first place because of the intervention of a mystical amulet, has already begun his training as a Watcher, and is friends with a Slayer, a Vampire, and a Werewolf,” Giles pointed out.
“All the more reason why he needs cartoons.” Cordelia plucked him from Giles’s arms. “You want to spend time with Wesley, you can spend time with the Simpsons as well.”
Giles had a brief struggle with his dignity and his pressing need to be with the little boy; the fear he had felt after his nightmare not yet having left him; then his dignity lost, and he snatched Wesley back. “Fine. I’ll watch cartoons.” He carried Wesley into the living room while Willow and Buffy exchanged a look.
“I think you may have to fight to keep him tonight,” Willow murmured.
“Tonight is our last night with him,” Buffy protested. “Giles is not getting him back early.”
“He seems to need Giles so much.” Willow sat down a little mournfully and reached for another cookie.
“I keep thinking about that,” Buffy admitted. “Wondering if he needed the same things when he was…big. Someone around to approve of him, and tell him he was doing the right thing.”
Willow grimaced. “He didn’t really get that, at all, did he?”
“Well, he kind of wasn’t doing the right thing. He was kind of doing the annoying thing most of the time.” She put her head on her arms and sighed heavily. “When he changes back into Big Wesley, I’m going to miss him so much. I am never having children. And I mean never.”
“Me neither.” Willow slumped next to her. “It would be too upsetting. And what about looking at their little baby clothes after they didn’t fit them any more? And those old toys they never played with?”
“Hey, what’s the with the long faces…?” Xander demanded. “Is everything okay? Is Wesley okay?”
“He has a headache,” said Willow tragically.
Xander bit his lip. “Okay. I can see how that could be considered a major tragedy - although not necessarily in a town where vampires regularly rise up and try to kill us, half the people we were in Junior High with are now dusted members of the undead, and Buffy had to send her honey to hell to stop the world being sucked into a demon dimension.”
“You’re just quibbling,” Willow murmured.
Xander looked at them suspiciously. “You haven’t been babysitting some energy sucking eggs, have you?”
“Wesley didn’t really enjoy his spell making class today,” Willow protested.
“And he got really anxious about his research.”
Xander sighed and sat down next to Buffy while Oz began to gently massage Willow’s shoulders. “Wesley was born to be anxious. He can’t help it. He’s a Watcher. And headaches happen, even to really cute little kids. There should be a law against it, I know, but still - it happens.”
“We don’t want him to be big again,” Willow said wretchedly.
Oz said, “But being little can have something of the suck about it.”
“If he was going to stay this size, he would have to go to school,” Xander pointed out. “The Council would come sniffing around here. His father would probably find out.”
Willow looked up at him aghast. “No!”
“Logically, how would we keep it from them for ten years? Forge his handwriting and write them notes explaining that he won’t be home for Christmas…ever. The school authorities would come sniffing around. Social services would find out. Wesley being a child again only isn’t a problem because it’s temporary.”
Buffy said, “I hate it when Xander is the most sensible person in the room.”
Wesley seemed out of sorts for the rest of the day. He was clingy and quiet and tired. Giles suspected that a child who had ever been given a little more kindness and attention in the past would probably have been grizzly and whiney as well, but Wesley was just lethargic and a little tearful. He didn’t seem to mind who he was with out of all of them, although Giles and Buffy were still his favourites, but he did need to be cuddled pretty much the whole time. It didn’t help that Angel couldn’t make it. He called to say that a group of vampires had managed to eat an entire family the night before and he needed to trace them to their lair and get rid of them. Wesley got very agitated then and insisted that Buffy went with him, while Buffy was pretty agitated herself, both at the thought of Angel taking on a whole group of vampires, and of leaving Wesley.
“We’ll all be here,” Giles reassured her. “We won’t invite any vampires in and if Faith calls we won’t let her in either. And as the Mayor has probably had a chance to hide his files by now anyway, Willow may not be such a threat.”
“And let’s not forget that we’re all badass vampire killers in our own right,” Xander added.
Willow shrugged. “We did stake slightly more vampires than we let get away while you were in LA. So, I guess we qualify as ‘badasses’.”
Cordy just looked at Buffy. “Hey, you’ve seen me fight with a spatula. Just think about what I can do with a stake.”
Buffy kissed Wesley, who was in Giles’s arms, and said, “Take care of him. I’ll be back soon.”
Joyce offered everyone lots of cups of tea, and looked at Wesley anxiously, who kept cuddling up to Giles and probably would have been whining if whining had ever got him anything in the past, but as it hadn’t, just sombrely sucked his thumb and clutched Giles’s jacket as if the man might slip away with Buffy and Angel if not physically anchored. Giles read to him from The Magician’s Nephew which definitely seemed to help keep him distracted from worrying about Angel and Buffy, and, somewhat bizarrely, Giles thought, it seemed to soothe Xander, Cordelia and Willow too. Oz didn’t exactly need soothing, having apparently never learned how to be tense, but he also joined them on the couch, his arm around Willow’s shoulders as they all listened to the story. Joyce quietly sat in the corner with a cup of tea and listened as well.
In the middle of reading, Giles became aware of them all silently sitting on the couch or the arms of the couch, Willow holding Cuthbert, and all listening avidly. He paused and Xander looked at him in confusion:
“Why are you stopping? You can’t stop now!”
Giles looked around at them. “Don’t you know this story?”
“My father wouldn’t let me read these on account of them being a Christian allegory,” Willow explained. “I mean - I did, but I felt guilty and I had to hide the books. It’s really nice hearing it read aloud and without so much of the guilt thing.”
“My parents don’t believe in reading to children,” Xander explained. “Or - you know - interacting with children if it’s possible to avoid them at all times.”
“My nannies were always Mexican or Venezuelan or Portuguese or something, so they didn’t really read English that well,” Cordelia added. “They used to read to me from magazines about movie star break ups and scandals.”
“Don’t you mean Puerto Rican?” Willow asked.
“Whatever,” Cordelia shrugged.
“I read to Buffy,” Joyce offered.
Everyone looked at her and then Xander gave her a thumbs up. “Well done on the parenting thing, Mrs Summers.”
Willow nodded. “Yes, reading to kids - really good thing to do.”
“I couldn’t always do the voices,” Joyce admitted.
“The thing is you tried,” Xander assured her. “That’s what matters.”
Wesley looked up at Giles and took his thumb out of his mouth to say: “Please, Uncle Giles. I want to know what happens.”
Sighing, Giles went back to the story, wondering not for the first time exactly how many people he was parenting some days, because for an unmarried, childless bachelor, he did sometimes feel uncomfortably like a father of six.
***
“Giles…? Giles, please come quickly! Giles…?”
Giles realized he had the phone in his hand and had evidently reached for it while still more than half asleep, but the desperation in Buffy’s voice jolted him into full wakefulness with all the painful immediacy of a cold shower.
“What is it?”
“It’s Wesley.” She sounded as if she were either crying or about to cry. “Please, I know I overreacted before, but this time he’s really ill. He’s burning up and he’s so restless and he’s crying in his sleep. There was a break in at the gallery and Mom got called over there and Cordelia is sick and I don’t think I can drive her car. I’d be too scared to drive it with Wesley in it…”
He was already pulling on his trousers over his pyjamas. “Buffy, don’t panic. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes and I’ll drive you straight to the hospital.”
As he staggered down the stairs he thought about how listless and clingy Wesley had been all evening, with what great misgivings he had said goodnight to him when all he wanted to do was take him home with him; how when Buffy had got back from Slaying without Angel, Wesley had been so upset and worried about him that they’d had to phone the vampire so that Wesley could hear his voice and know that he was alive. Buffy had promised that he would take him straight up to bed and let him sleep late in the morning so he could rest properly and how she would make sure he didn’t do any more schoolwork on the next day. He should have known that it was something more serious. He should have taken him to the hospital then instead of deciding to ‘leave it for twenty four hours and see how he is…’
Stupid, Giles told himself fiercely. Stupid, stupid decision...