Book One: Chapter Two (Part 3 - 7,088 words)

[larakailyn]

Once she had closed the door behind her, Fred walked over and sat on the bed. Breathing deeply for a few moments, she just sat there with the phone cradled to her chest. Everything had been so overwhelming, and suddenly she felt as though someone had just popped her and let out all the air. Her emotions still felt jangled even though part of her was unbelievably giddy about the fact that she and Wesley had kissed, about knowing that he did actually return the feelings she had been trying to bury because she thought he hadn’t been interested. There were other things she was still trying to sort out in her mind, but at least she had finally made a decision that she knew was right.

Turning the phone on, she quickly punched in her parent’s home number in Texas and waited for the line picked up.

Trish Burkle was humming happily to herself. Having been home from work for about an hour, she decided it was time to start dinner since Roger would be in from the fields in about forty-five minutes to be fed. She smiled to herself. Her life was good. She and her husband had been incredibly happy since the return of their daughter that year. As she headed into the kitchen, the phone rang, and she detoured off to answer it.

“Hello?”

Fred smiled at the sound of her mother’s voice. For so long on Pylea, she had wanted to just be able to talk to her mother, to hear her voice telling her everything would be okay. And then when she had gotten back, she had convinced herself that if she did hear her, it would make it all real, so she had run away. Luckily, they had found her anyway.

“Hi, Mom, it’s me,” she said. “Are you busy? Some stuff’s happened here, and I really needed to talk to you.”

“Now, Winifred, you know I’m never to busy to talk to my daughter.” The older woman frowned at hearing something in her child’s voice. “You sound like you got something pretty heavy on your mind. Do I need to get your daddy? Or is this a mother/daughter call?” she asked, trying to lighten her voice.

“I...uh...I’m not sure. But you’re right - it’s pretty heavy. A lot’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. Wesley-you remember Wesley, don’t you? The really nice English guy I work with?

“Of course I remember Wesley,” she replied, silently thinking about the nice young man she had met. She had noticed how he seemed to always hover near her daughter as if he was ready to protect her. It was a trait she valued, especially in their line of work.

“Well, he was hurt badly - really badly - last night, and it’s caused a huge bust-up, and I broke up with Charles, and...I’m not living at the Hyperion anymore.” Fred stopped a took another breath, realizing that even though that covered what had happened, that didn’t even really begin to cover it.

Trish gasped softly, thinking of him hurt. “Is he...is he okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing, trying to figure how Wesley being hurt could cause such a tight knit group to break apart. “Fred, baby, tell me what happened. It might help you to get it out.” She didn’t want her daughter to bottle this up.

“It-oh, mom, it was horrible.” She didn’t really know where to start, so she decided to start with Darla. “You remember I told you ‘bout Darla? Angel’s old girlfriend, the vampire that gave birth to his son Connor? Well, Wesley found this awful prophecy that Angel was going to kill Connor, and he couldn’t tell us-he couldn’t tell me because Charles kept taking me away for other stupid stuff, and so he decided to try to take Connor away, so Angel couldn’t hurt him, but some bitch who was working for that Holtz guy found him first and slit Wesley’s throat and kidnapped Connor.” Fred felt tears coming to her eyes as she related it all to her and curled her feet up beneath her so she was sitting almost in a ball on the bed.

“Oh, honey,” Trish sighed, hearing the pain in her daughter’s voice. “I’m so sorry. I know these people were all important to you.” She took a deep breath, wondering about something Fred had said. “What do you mean Charles kept taking you away?”

She could guess what it meant without her saying, however. Her daughter was a beautiful, brilliant young woman with a heart of gold. Had the two men been fighting over her? She didn’t like the idea of Fred being in that type of situation. But something didn’t add up. If she was dating Charles, what made Wesley take a step back? She smiled sadly at the thought that entered her mind, and that made her appreciate Wesley even more. He had been thinking about Fred’s happiness first.

“Charles and Angel blamed Wesley for what happened,” Fred continued, not hearing her mother’s last question, “and I got caught in the middle because I sided with Wesley and called his friend Giles down to help. So I left, and I’m staying at Wesley’s now while he’s recovering.”

“I’m proud of you, darlin’. It couldn’t have been easy, but you made the right choice stickin’ by your friend.”

“I had to. I couldn’t let him go through this alone, not after what he had been through. I love him.” Realizing what she had just admitted to her mother, Fred closed her eyes. Her voice dropped to an almost low whisper, “I think Charles knew that. And he knew that Wesley felt the same about me even though I wasn’t so sure. He wanted to keep us apart. Because of that, Wesley got hurt.”

“Fred, I knew. I saw it in Wesley’s face when we visited,” she admitted. “And before you get upset about that, I gotta remind you that me and your daddy knowin’ didn’t matter. It’s your life to live, baby. We just wanted you to be happy. If that was with Charles, then it wasn’t our place to say anything. I admit, though, I’m glad you feel differently now. I think Wesley will be good to you. Treat you like the treasure you are,” she added with a smile. “Do you need me to come up and help? You know daddy and I can be there in a day.”

“Probably wouldn’t be a good idea. There’s three of us staying here already what with me and Giles here to help Wesley while he gets better.” Fred couldn’t believe that her mother had seen it too. But she hadn’t been there when Wesley had pulled away from her, making her think that he only wanted to be friends and co-workers. She had never told her about what had happened with Billy’s blood either. Never would. That hadn’t been Wesley, no matter how he had blamed himself. “Plus, I don’t want to overwhelm him after everything that’s happened.”

“Okay, but you let us know if you need help. I have vacation time coming anyway,” Trish replied to her daughter. She was a little disappointed that her baby didn’t need her anymore, but she supposed it was part of learning that Fred was a grown up and didn’t need her standing underfoot and mothering her to death anymore. “Give our love to Wesley and tell him we’re prayin’ for his quick recovery. And you tell this Giles he better look after you both, or daddy and I will be on our way up.” She said the last part in a half-teasing voice.

“We’ll be fine. I promise to let you know if we need anything. And I’ll give you Wesley’s phone number in case you need to reach me.”

“Be more than fine, baby. You deserve so much more than ‘fine’. Be happy.” She reached for a pen to scribble down Wesley’s number and address. “Did you want to talk to daddy? Or should I let you go so that you can get back to Wesley?”

Fred would have loved to talk to her father but felt that she had already spent too much time away from Giles and Wesley. There would be plenty of time to spend chatting on the phone later once things had settled and Wesley was taken care of. Maybe she’d take him - and Giles even if wanted to come along - to San Antonio. The farm would be a great place to really relax and spend time away from everything.

“That’s okay. Just tell Dad that I love him, and I’ll talk to him soon, okay?” She then gave her Wesley’s number and address. “And Mom? I don’t think I say it enough, but I love you too.”

“I’ll tell him,” Trish replied, her attention drawn away from the phone for a moment by her husband coming in through the back door. She smiled. Her family might have had hundreds of miles between them, but for the first time in six years, it felt like they were together.

“Woman! Where’s my dinner!” Roger called out, smirking when he saw his wife on the phone. “Tell those busybodies from the bridge club to let you go. You have a hungry husband.”

“Oh, you hush, Roger Burkle. I’m talking to our daughter!” she shot back with a smile, watching his face light up. ““No, she has to go. She’ll talk to us later.” She would explain everything to him once she got off the phone. “I’ll let you go, Fred. Remember, we love you so much.”

Fred felt a warm fuzzy feeling spread through her at that. “Thanks, Mom. Talk to you later.”

With that, they said their goodbyes, and she pressed the off button on the phone. God, she missed her parents. However, as much as she would have loved to have them visit, it wasn’t the time. After taking a few more moments to herself, she slid off the bed and walked back out into the living room where Wesley was still on the couch.

Wesley smiled to himself, knowing the second Fred stepped into the room. It was as if a warm blanket had enveloped him. He looked up at her, his heart skipping a beat at the happiness on her face. Talking to her parents seemed to have strengthened her spirit.

“Hey, thanks for letting me call them. It was so good to hear my mother’s voice.” She smiled at him and set the cordless down on the coffee table. “Where’s Giles?”

He pointed toward the kitchen and, looking down at the pad, started writing, Knowing Giles, he’s making tea. And you don’t have to thank me for letting you call your parents. If you need to talk to them, you have a standing invitation to use my phone. He turned the pad for her to read.

She smiled at him as she read the message and reached over to run her hand through his hair as she stood next to him. “Mom asked if we needed anymore help, but I told her we’d be fine.” Glancing over in the direction of the kitchen, she could hear Giles moving around. “Do you need any help in there?”

Your mum is a good woman. Tell her I said thank you for the offer, Wesley wrote. He looked up as Giles entered the room with his tea tray and a plate of biscuits he didn’t remember buying. He looked at friend, the question in his blue eyes.

“Your ancient biscuits should come with a disclaimer,” Giles teased. “I brought these with me. Little taste of home.” He knew the younger man hadn’t seen England since he left the Academy. They had talked about this specific topic on many occasions - how they were content with their lives but did miss England. “I went through considerable effort to hide these from Xander, so do enjoy them. They should tide us over until we can order groceries.”

Wesley looked down at the tray to note that two of the biscuits were on a separate plate. Giles had taken the time to break them into manageable pieces. He was touched.

“Just take it slow, let them soften in your mouth, and you should be fine,” his friend said.

Fred sat down on the couch, looking at the cookies-biscuits with interest. The differences in American and British English never ceased to interest her, especially considering the first time she had heard Wesley talking about craving a biscuit, she had brought him a fluffy biscuit back from the diner. He had taken it with a smile, but later, she had discovered that wasn’t what he had really wanted. She had been so embarrassed but touched that Wesley hadn’t complained about her mistake.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like those,” she said. “Much nicer than the cheap chocolate chip cookies I used to keep hidden in my room.”

“Yes, well, Xander’s appetite is notorious. Most of my profits from the Magic Box are spent trying to restock the cupboards after a night of research with Xander Harris. I send for a few items from home every so often, so I usually try to hide them from him because I swear that boy can smell a pizza being ordered within a ten mile radius.” Giles sighed, but he knew he wouldn’t change anything or any one of them for the world. He picked up one of the biscuits, looking at it with a faint smile. “The outside is flaky, which shouldn’t be too bad for Wes. The inside is a chocolate cream. Cadbury’s. These little things got me through many a research night at the Academy.” He popped one of them into his mouth.

Reaching out, she took one of the biscuits and took a bite. Giles was right - it was quite flaky, and several crumbles fell onto the front of her scrub top. She really needed to do something about showering and changing into a clean set of clothes from her bag. “These are really good,” she said before finishing off the rest of it. “The more you talk about your friends from Sunnydale, the more I want to meet them. They sound like some really great people.”

“They are. Let’s see, there’s Willow and Tara, our witches. Willow by herself is quite powerful, but that power is unfocused. She’s young, though, so that will come with age. Tara is shy, but she has the truest heart I have ever known. She’s not as powerful as Willow is though she is far more wise than she lets on. She gives Willow focus. I think that’s why they’re such a formidable team when they cast together. There’s also Anya; she’s running the Magic Box while I’m away. Anya is a former vengeance demon who was made human when the alternate me broke Cordelia’s wish. She tries and can be quite kind, but she’s also new to the human aspect of the word ‘tact’. So when you meet, don’t take anything she says personally.” He smirked. “She’s says what’s on her mind whether we want to hear it or not. Then there’s Xander. He’s Anya’s boyfriend, but he’s been with us from the beginning. His biggest asset is his devotion to his friends. He’ll bend over backwards to help you, constantly breaking the tension of an apocalypse with a well-placed quip. Next, there’s the bane of my existence, Spike, also known as William the Bloody.”

He nodded when Wesley’s eyes grew large in recognition. “I know. But you remember his alterations. Last year, he was caught by a government agency, and a chip was implanted in his brain. It prevents him from feeding on humans, so he sates his demon’s blood lust by helping us wipe out the demon population of Sunnydale. And as much as I hate to say it, after Buffy’s loss, he’s been a godsend on patrolling. I allow him to stay around unmolested mainly because he has a soft spot for Dawn. He would die to protect her. Dawn is Buffy’s younger sister,” he explained as he glanced over at Fred. “Add myself to the mix, and you have a very rag-tag group of individuals that try and keep the Hellmouth from swallowing Sunnydale whole.”

Fred could see the look in his eyes when he mentioned Buffy and remembered their conversation the previous evening, about how Wesley’s phone calls after her death had kept Giles from going crazy with grief. “Sounds like you’ve done an amazing job,” she told him, knowing it couldn’t have been easy. “Before all this, before what happened to me, I never imagined this sort of things really existed. I actually thought that aliens were more likely to exist than demons. Shows you how wrong I was.”

Wesley rolled the remnants of the biscuit around on his tongue, relishing in the rich chocolate taste. He smiled at Fred’s comments about aliens and looked down at his pad.

Your father’s influence if I remember correctly. He laughed softly and was about to turn the pad toward her when Giles’ soft voice suddenly interrupted them.

“No.” His face had fallen when Fred commended him. “My Slayer is dead, so I failed,” he remarked before slumping back on the couch. He had failed Buffy when she needed him most. He had mentored the greatest Slayer in the history of the Council, and he had lost her. The feeling of such a failure left him feeling numb. So much so that he didn’t even feel Wesley’s arm drape over his shoulder until he felt the squeeze.

As Wesley put his arm over his shoulder, Fred slid off to the couch onto the floor with him and placed her hand on his other one. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking from him up to Wesley and then back to Giles. She really had done this time. Good Ol’ Fred, always saying the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time, and she had no clue how to make it better. “I’m sure-she would never-oh, God...I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up...”

Giles sniffed, trying to tamp down on the overwhelming sense of grief that wrapped tight around his chest and constricted it brutally. He couldn’t keep doing this. He was supposed to be here looking after Wesley, and he was falling apart over the mere mention of his lost Slayer. He would be of no use to them if he couldn’t pull himself together.

“No, you didn’t know. It’s...it’s something I have to come to terms with.” He turned his hand over in hers and squeezed gently. “I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me because you’re worried you might say the wrong thing. I want both of you to be able to talk to me about anything.” He moved his free hand up to his shoulder, placing his hands over Wesley’s. “I’m sorry,” he apologized while attempting to shake the feeling off. He smiled sadly when Wesley’s hand moved, bringing his head closer. The younger man’s forehead touched his temple briefly in a show of silent camaraderie before pulling back.

You don’t have to apologize. You’re here for me, but it goes both ways. Just because you’re here doesn’t mean you shut off the fact that you’re still grieving, Wesley wrote. Besides, it’s nice to know that you’re human like the rest of us. He smirked, happy when it got a better smile out of his friend.

Relieved when Giles smiled, Fred looked over at Wesley and mouthed ‘Thank you’ to him. She was glad that Giles didn’t hold it against her and understood that she hadn’t meant to bring up any bad memories.

Wesley nodded. Fred really meant no harm in what she said. She honestly didn’t know, and he didn’t want her to feel as if she had to walk on eggshells around Rupert, especially when they both were staying here.

Rising up onto her knees, she hesitantly withdrew her hand from Giles’ and took one of the cups to pour a cup of tea. She then prepared it the way she knew Wesley liked it and handed it over to him. He took the cup from her with a gentle smile. Feeling that the cup was lukewarm, he looked over at Giles, touched by the thought.

“That’s why it took so long.” Giles shrugged. “You have enough to worry about without burning your throat. We can all drink lukewarm tea for a bit.”

“How do you take it?” Fred asked Giles with a shy smile while pouring another cup.

He glanced up at her in surprise. “Just black, please,” he replied. She didn’t have to pour his tea for him, but he realized it was just in her nature. Wesley was right - she had such a kind demeanor. There was something about the girl that just put you at ease.

Nodding, she handed the cup over to him then poured a cup for herself and added a bit of milk and a small spoonful of sugar. Once she had finished, she moved up to the couch again, leaning back and taking a sip. “This is really good tea even lukewarm.”

English style, Wesley wrote, balancing the pad on his legs while holding the cup in his other hand. God, he missed that. Even in Sunnydale, the only time he could get a decent cup of tea was if he could get Rupert to make it. He cringed inwardly, knowing that his own behavior at the time was what had practically guaranteed that those occasions had been very rare.

“Well, Wesley has the set, which, gathering from the layer of dust I wiped off of it, didn’t get much use,” Giles chided him, gently. “But it’s an easy enough process. I can teach you how to make it like this.” He knew it would be better if they both knew how. That way Wesley could get a good cup of tea anytime he wanted it.

Fred smiled at Giles’ offer. “I’d really like that. My knowledge of tea goes so far as placing a bag in the cup. Although I do have my mother’s recipe for Sun Tea to make iced tea during the summer. I used to sit out on the porch when I was a kid and watch the tea move through the water from the bags she used...I think that was when I first became interested in osmosis.”

“Speaking of recipes, we should start on that list soon. I’d like to get the groceries ordered, and then we can all clean up.”

She took another sip of the tea and then looked over at Wesley. “Do you want to be our list taker since you have the pad? Then I can call the market and place the order.”

Giles watched Wesley finish his tea before flipping the page on his pad. He took the cup from his hand and set it on the table. “I think pastas should be okay for you. So we’ll need several kinds - linguini, angel hair, spaghetti. The penne has ridges, so I don’t want to chance that. Heavy cream. Basil. Pine nuts. A few tins of plain spaghetti sauce with nothing in it. Onions. Fruits. Vegetables. A few tins of biscuits. Perhaps some crisps for Fred.” He began running over some of the things he found in Wesley’s kitchen in his head. “Several boxes of instant potatoes and some porridge for you.” He chuckled when Wes made a face at the instant potatoes. “Don’t worry. I’ll add to it so that it’s actually edible. Can’t be any worse than that hospital mush. And better double up on the fruit. In a day or two, you should be able to handle a fruit salad.”

Fred added her own wants to the list - pancake mix, milk, some deli meats, eggs, lemonade, iced tea mix, a couple of loaves of bread, some cans of soup, cheese, and several pints of ice cream. The last request, she saw, brought a smile to Wesley’s face. Once he had a few things of his own on the list, Fred took the piece of paper from him and, after setting her tea cup down, grabbed the cordless phone from the coffee table.

“Learned the market number a long time ago now. Was the only way to keep from starving when-well, before.” She sighed and shook her head as she punched the number in. With only her and Angel living full-time at the Hyperion, and Angel not tending to eat since he was a vampire, she had realized very quickly that if she didn’t do the shopping for herself, the fridge tended not to get stocked.

“No, different address now,” she told the guy on the other end. “And this won’t be going on the Hyperion tab.” The idea of sticking it on there did briefly appeal to her, but she decided it would probably be best not to. No point in riling them up over there. She gave the order-taker Wes’ address and borrowed his pen for a moment to jot down the total. “Thanks. See you soon.”

Turning the phone off again, she passed the pen back. “All right - they said that the groceries should be delivered in about an hour.”

Giles looked down at the total and dug out his wallet. He pulled out a hundred and four fifties and tossed them on the table before placing his wallet back in his pocket. He froze when he felt Wesley’s hand on his arm. The other man pointed to a vase on the bookshelf. Getting up from the couch, Giles went over to the vase and looked inside. There was a roll of money resting in the bottom.

“No, Wesley, let me do this. Neither of you are working right now, and you just incurred a fairly sizable hospital bill. My family’s estate is considerable, and I still collect my Watcher’s check. Not to mention the Magic Box is doing rather well. Paying for groceries is not going to break me, I promise.”

Fred had just gone pulled her wallet from her purse when Giles said that and looked up, quite grateful to him. “Probably a good thing because it would me. All I have is a ten-dollar bill.” She sighed and shoved her wallet back in. Any money she had was what she managed to scrape together herself or borrow from her parents when she really needed help. Angel hadn’t even given her anything from the $10,000 they had got from the Nahdrahs when she was the one who had almost had her head removed. And she had just let him get away with it.

Dropping her purse back on the table, she looked down at her scrub top again. “You said something about cleaning up while we waited for the delivery?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get my shower first. That way I can start dinner while you’re in there.” Giles smiled at her nod.

Gathering his bag from by the door, he opened it, removing a pair of boxers, a clean pair of jeans and a shirt. He then grabbed his travel bag and headed into the bathroom. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he scowled. Two days worth of beard stubble, and he looked like a lecherous old college professor. Resigned, he stepped back from the sink and started peeling off his clothes.

Wesley sighed, knowing that Giles had a point, but it didn’t mean he still didn’t feel like he was taking advantage of his friend. Once he had disappeared into the bathroom, he looked up at Fred, wearing a sheepish expression.

He’s something else, Wesley wrote, knowing that the woman he loved was fond of the other man already. I meant to ask you before, but how are your parents?

“He’s definitely unique. Just like you,” she said with a grin as she circled around the couch to sit down with him. “And my parents are fine. My mother offered to practically jump the next plane or bus to come help, but I told her it was crowded enough here already.” She reached over, resting her hand on Wesley’s arm. “They both send their love and wishes for recovery too. I didn’t realize how much my mother likes you until I spoke to her. She-she thinks you’ll be good to me.” At this, she gave an embarrassed little laugh and looked down.

Tell your mum I said thank you. I like your parents too. They’re so... He paused, wondering if he should write the next part. They’re good people, loving. They would do anything for you. You’re lucky.

He froze when she seemed embarrassed about what she had said. Setting down his pad, he turned slightly to face her. Gripping her chin in his fingers, he steered her gaze to his. ‘I love you, Fred,’ he mouthed, part of him waiting for her to walk out and head back to Texas.

She had known, of course. Known because Giles had told her at the hospital. She met his eyes, feeling her stomach fluttering and her heart pounding. “I-I love you too,” she admitted softly. “Have for a while. I-I just didn’t think that you-that you did when you pulled away. So...so I made a stupid mistake that I wish I hadn’t, and that led to a whole lot more until I didn’t really realize what was going on.” She sighed and let her fingers crawl up his arm to his face. “I wish I could change it. I wish I had known.”

Wesley placed his hand over hers on his face. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, not only relishing this moment but also needing to say something, even in a whisper. She needed to hear it. Concentrating, he managed to get his injured vocal cords to cooperate.

“Doesn’t matter. Here now,” he whispered, tamping down on the pain and ignoring the copper taste of blood in his throat. His free hand came up, fingers combing through her dark hair. ‘So beautiful,’ he then mouthed, not wanting to push his luck. Knowing Rupert, he would drive him back to the hospital if he discovered he had been speaking.

“You shouldn’t be talking,” she whispered, unable to be stern with him as tears came to her eyes when she saw what he then mouthed to her. “Plenty of time for that later. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

Tilting her head slightly, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “You’re pretty wonderful and handsome too, you know.”

Wesley pulled back, smiling. He reached for the discarded pad, bringing it back to his lap.

I have always tried to be good to you. It’s no less than you deserve, he wrote before swallowing thickly, the memories threatening to overwhelm him. After Billy, I shouldn’t have pulled away. Was terrified. But I think you deserve to know why. My parents-I’m certain you remember Giles mentioning my father, telling me how unlike him I am? When she nodded, he continued, My father isn’t a very nice man. He wanted an obedient Watcher, not a son. As a boy, any mistake I made was met with physical and emotional retribution. How I had failed him as a son and that he would do whatever it took to make me like him. Even if it killed me. When I...

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to finish.

When I hurt you, I thought that if I could hurt someone I loved like that, that I was becoming him. And that thought scared the hell out of me.

Fred felt the tears collecting in her eyes start rolling down her cheeks as she read Wesley’s note. “I-.” She raised her head to look into his eyes, suddenly understanding everything. I don’t know what kind of man I am anymore. “It wasn’t you. I know it wasn’t. Because a man like that wouldn’t worry about whether he was hurting someone and wouldn’t care. That alone tells me Giles is right - that you aren’t anything like your father.”

I know that now. But when you showed up at my door, I was still dealing with the fear. By the time I had realized that for myself, Cordelia talked me into telling you how I felt. That was the night of the ballet. When I came to find you, I saw you kissing Gunn. He paused, letting the memory go. You seemed happy. What I felt didn’t matter. So I stayed quiet.

She gave him a sad smile, wishing that things had gone differently but knowing that she couldn’t change that now. “Thank you for confiding in me.” She placed her hand over his heart. “It means more than I can say. And I know you’ll be good to me because that’s who you are - who you really are.”

He placed his hand over hers. I’ll try to be. You deserve to be treated like a queen.

“I’m not a queen; I’m just Fred,” she said feeling a bit self-conscious at the idea of being compared to a queen. She had grown up on a farm and been a slave for years. She had never felt like a queen or anywhere near grand enough to be a queen. Now Cordelia, she was a...

Fred’s eyes drifted back up the previous note to Cordelia’s name as she thought about her, and she re-read what Wesley had written. Cordelia talked me into telling you how I felt. But at the shop, she had been talking about-oh, God. “She didn’t mean Charles. She was talking about you. You were the one she meant when she said at the dress shop that she thought we were perfect together...”

Probably. She caught me that morning. I had been trying to do research on a demon from one of Cordelia’s visions. She caught me daydreaming about you. He smiled shyly. And you could never be just anything. And that night of the ballet, you looked breathtaking. I... He looked toward a desk in the corner. There was a man with a camera there that night. I pulled him aside before we left. The picture is in the top drawer of my desk, if you’d like to see it.

“I’d love to see that,” she told him, touched by the thought that he would have wanted to keep a memento of that night even though he cared enough about her happiness to step back if that was what she thought she wanted. Well, now she was going to be concerned about his happiness. His recovery and his happiness. “Promise me something, Wesley - don’t ever feel that you can’t tell me anything, no matter what it is. Know that you can always come to me and tell me anything, and we’ll work through it together.”

I can’t promise that if it’ll hurt you. After you kissed Gunn, how would you have felt if I confessed my feelings? Confused would have been the least of it. You were happy, and Gunn was my friend. I couldn’t do that to either of you. He looked up, seeing that she had gotten up to retrieve the picture from his desk and finished the note for her to read when she got back. But I will try. I won’t say that I wouldn’t do the same thing if it means your health or happiness. All I can promise is to try.

Fred looked at the picture as she crossed back over and sat down, smiling when she saw it - it was of the two of them from when they were standing out in the upper level of the lobby during intermission. Both of them were looking at each other, and she remembered that moment. She immediately understood why Wesley had never showed any of them the picture until now.

Sitting down, she saw him holding out the pad and leaned over to read it, her eyes flicking quickly over what he had written. He was right. It would have confused things had he said something after what had happened between her and Charles that night. It didn’t stop her from wishing he had been able to come to her, but he was right.

“Trying is enough. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, however and whenever. I want you to be happy too. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve it too.”

I have everything I need to make me happy, right here in this flat. Everything else is just the icing on the cake, Wesley wrote before allowing his eyes to stray over the picture in her hand. I remember that moment. You smiled at me, and I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I have others around here somewhere, but that has always been my favorite.

Giles came out of the shower, hair still damp and face freshly shaven. He had his shirt in his hands and paused for a moment to slide it on. He looked up to see Fred and Wesley talking. Walking up behind Fred, he saw the photo in her hand and whistled appreciatively.

“Don’t you two look fantastic,” he remarked with a smile. Fred in her lovely gown looked stunning, and Wesley in his tuxedo looked absolutely delicious.

“We do clean up pretty good, don’t we? Too bad I had to return that dress. I really did love it.” She looked down at herself again. “And speaking of cleaning up...I really should as soon as the groceries get here.”

“Yes, you do. Absolutely breathtaking,” he commented, referring to both of them. “Although I’ve seen Wesley in a tux before.”

He smiled, seeing the other man hide his face in his hands. Fred, however, looked rather...interested.

“We both got stuck chaperoning the Sunnydale High prom. Formal wear - had to dress appropriately,” Giles explained, knowing Wesley was embarrassed remembering the blueberry scone incident. When the doorbell rang, he scooped the money off the table, and turned to answer it. “Thank you, you can set it right over here, I’ll take everything into the kitchen. Also, I was wondering if you could start an account for Rupert Giles. I’ll be here for some time.” He passed over the money for the current bill. “Keep the change on this.”

“Wow, thanks, mister,” one of the kids replied, knowing it was about a $40 tip. “And no problem about the account. I’ll give my boss your name. Just call later to secure the account with a credit card.”

“Very good.”

“Do you want help with those, Giles?”

He turned is attention toward Fred once the delivery boys had left. “I think the men-folk can handle this,” he teased. “Go on, we’ll be fine.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” She laughed when both of them waved her away. “All right, all right. Didn’t realize I was that stinky.”

She opened her bag and pulled out one of her dresses that she could just slip on once she was done showering as well as fresh underclothes and her shampoo and conditioner. She decided she’d just borrow whatever soap Wesley had in there and, with a small wave to both of them, headed into the bathroom. She was glad to be able to slip out of the scrub top and the jeans she had been wearing for what seemed like forever now - there were splatters of dried blood on her jeans that she hadn’t noticed before. God, she hoped Wesley hadn’t seen them.

Turning on the shower so that it was good and hot, she stepped underneath it and felt herself sag into the wall as the water ran over her. She felt so tired, but unlike before, it was in good way now. She’d clean up, go back out there and start the next part of her life.

*****
Out in the lounge, Giles looked over at Wes, the smile on the handsome face causing one to appear on his own.

“I know you haven’t had much cause to lately, but you should do that more.” He nodded toward the sound of the running water. “Fred, she put that smile on your face, and I’ll always be grateful to her for doing so,” he explained, gathering up a half a dozen bags in each arm. “When you smile, it lights up your face, takes ten years off of you. I’m looking forward to seeing it more.”

He took the first batch of bags into the kitchen, letting Wesley interpret what he said any way he wanted. Pulling the grapes from one of the bags, he grabbed a small bowl and pulled a bunch off of the stems. Taking the bowl, he went out to collect the rest of the bags.

“Here, work on these while I get dinner started,” he instructed, passing the bowl over. When he reached down to get the other bags, Wesley held the pad out to him.

I told her I loved her. And a little about father.

“This relationship is yours and Fred’s, Wesley. Your father has been trying to destroy you since you were a boy. Don’t let him in this time. It’s as simple as that. You know your father; he’ll try and make you choose,” Giles cautioned him. He waited a few moments while Wes scribbled down something else.

No choice. It will always be her.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. Now eat while I get dinner started,” he told the younger man, heading back toward the kitchen. He heard the sound of tearing paper and laughed when he felt the wad hit him in the back. Pausing a moment, he scooped up the ball to open it.

Yes, mother.

“Why, you cheeky little... Eat,” he ordered the smirking man before continuing into the kitchen. Once the groceries were put away, he decided on something simple for dinner, not wanting to rub in the fact that Wes couldn’t have solid foods. Chicken soup for all of them, grilled cheese sandwiches for he and Fred, and a small portion of garlic mashed potatoes for Wesley. It didn’t take long for him to make. Plating everything up and portioning the soup into bowls, he placed them all on a serving tray, which he carried out to the dining table.

*****