(no subject)
When we came back from Pylea, our triumph or returning only lasted for….oh, the drive it took us from Caritas to the hotel. Waiting there was one Xander Harris, looking as if his best friend had just died. Turns out not only his best friend had died, his other best friend had died as well. Shot by some mad boy who was looking for power and the best way he thought to do that was to shoot The Slayer. A single small metal thing known as a bullet, was all it took to fell the Slayer.
Not only her though. Also her best friend. Willow Rosenberg had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. She’d been killed instantly as well. Giles, Xander had told us haltingly, had lost it then. He’d been over for a visit and this is what he came back to. The death of two of his protégés. He called upon the magic he’d once used and swore never to use again. But watching two of your children die - even if they weren’t his real children - could do that to a man.
It wasn’t until much later that I realized that. The extend one would go through for ones children.
Giles had come close to killing this Warren and his friends. He was stopped by Tara Maclay, Willow’s girlfriend. The details of that were never told, and they weren’t our business. What was our business however, was that fact that the Hellmouth was unprotected . Anya had taken Giles back to England after all was said and done. Leaving Xander and Tara with Dawn to protect the Hellmouth. With the strange help of one William the Bloody. Something which irked Angel.
So instead of grieving for Buffy, as Cordelia and I had expected, Angel declared he was now the new protector of the Hellmouth, since someone had to do it. And Spike, apparently, wasn’t it. He needed a researcher, which was a very unsubtle of saying that he wanted me along. Cordelia, not fond of going back to Hell, came along as well. She said the visions would probably follow her to the Hellmouth anyway.
Turned out she was right. She kept the visions, and they did move to the Hellmouth.
Gunn stayed behind in Los Angeles with his gang, only calling upon us if he needed some research done. He and his gang had everything as good as under control in Los Angels with the help of Lorne. Fred went home with her parents to start the long way of crawling back to reality again. Sometimes we receive letters from her on how that was going.
Giles had decided to stay in England. Not to join the Council, but to re-start the Magic box. He found he had no use in Sunnydale any longer. I myself always thought it was just to painful for him to come back and stay. It was also the case for the others, but I thought it better not to mention that. Anya, for some strange reason stayed in England with him. A year later we got some pictures of a very happily looking Anya Jenkins and a strangely content looking Rupert Giles. Photo’s of their wedding.
Slowly life on the Hellmouth picked up in expected and unexpected ways. The demons and vampires were as I expected them. As was the work of nightly patrolling. What I hadn’t expected was the new friendships I found there. I hadn’t looked forward to returning to the place of my failure. Especially not with the memories left behind there. Painful for all three of us in so many ways. What I also hadn’t expected was finding myself as a Guardian over Dawn together with Tara Maclay.
We soled the Summers house and moved into Angel’s rather large mansion, even Xander. Spike set up camp in the basement for some reason. Angel not protesting that baffled both Cordelia and myself. Tara on the other hand smiled serenely, and rather secretive. Dawn was withdrawn at first, but she came around later. She had her own grief to work thought. Not only loosing her sister and the woman who was as a sister to her. But also her mother not that long ago. Her father - the bastard - wasn’t anywhere to be found.
All and all things worked out with this strange new dysfunctional family. Especially Xander, who liked neither Angel nor myself came around. I’m thinking loosing both his friends and his former girlfriend was somewhat of an eye opener. He’d been like Dawn at first too. Withdrawn, sullen, getting into trouble quite deliberately. Until Cordelia took over and told him, quite loudly, what she thought of that. After that came a seven year long dance around each other before they finally admitted what we all knew.
The most unexpected thing however, for myself as much as for anyone else, was the fact that I fell in love with Tara Maclay. Dawn was quite happy with this and had convinced me that Tara was worth perusing. Not even the fact that I pointed out the whole ‘gay’ thing to her got her off that notion. She did everything in her power to get us together since Xander and Cordelia were still hopelessly in denial at that point.
Long nights were spend talking with Tara, about varies things. Magic, demons, politics, England, her hometown, and much to both our surprise, family. She was easy to open up to and she confessed she found it easy to open up to me as well. We had a lot in common, in our past, and it would seem in retrospect, our future. It wasn’t until she told me she had fallen in love with Willow because she was Willow and not because she was a girl that I seriously started to ponder the possibility of this future with her.
Dawn, of course, was delighted by this epiphany. She sped up her efforts and much to my chagrin teamed up with Cordelia. Bloody hell, I thought I was going insane with the two of them. Angel was no help, and Xander’s only suggestion was to go to the pub and drink on it. Angel was to busy with Spike who had come back from some journey he’d gone through. Month’s later we learned that we now had not one, but two vampire’s with a soul.
Spike changed then. He was still pretending to be the big bad vampire, but we saw right through that act. He became more William then Spike. A mix between the two if you will. Joining Tara and myself on those long nights we spend talking about everything and nothing on the porch. Spike talked about Drusilla, what a bitch Darla had been and…Angel. He never talked about Buffy, and neither did Angel. It took both Tara and myself a while to figure it out, but it was glaringly obvious. Spike and Angel were more then just vampires with a soul. More then just centuries of shared pain and love. No, actually, it was still a lot of pain between the two. Just a little more love as well.
Most of us sort of ignored the whole thing, knowing we’d only get glared and snarled at if we would mention it. The only one who did make some ribs at the pair was Xander. That however was a good sign of him finally getting over the loss of Willow and Buffy.
Which brings us to myself and one Tara Maclay. I spend the next year or so wooing her as it were. Under the guidance of Dawn and Cordelia. I even went so far as to recite a poem written by William the Bloody. He had sworn it would swipe her off her feet. All it did was make her giggle. Xander and Angel chipped reluctantly in with some tips as well. Even Gunn had some tips whenever I talked to him on the phone. Still, I couldn’t find the courage to just say ‘I love you’ out loud.
It took a night out with Spike and Angel, patrolling not getting drunk, to finally give me the courage to tell her how I felt. Nearly dying does that to a man I suppose. I’d ended up at the hospital when a demon attack had gone not so swimmingly for me. And woke up with Tara at my bedside, looking very worried.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Six months later we were married. A year later I was at that same hospital again, crying at the birth of my daughter. Isobella Cordy-Anne Willow Wyndam-Pryce. Named after the women who had been so important in both Tara and my lives. Well, that and the only woman alive of that string of names would have happily castrated me had I not re-named my daughter after her.
Blue eyes, dark hair and not shy at all. Unlike her parents. I think both of us were surprised at that, but we realized that up-bringing did have a lot to do with the forming of ones personality. And with the people surrounding Isobella - who was spoiled rotten by doting aunts and uncles- there was no reason her for to hide herself. She had everyone wrapped around her little finger. Including - or quite possibly especially - Angel and Spike.
Four years after the birth of Isobella, Xander and Cordelia finally tied the knot. Took them long enough.
“Don’t I look pwetty, daddy?” Isobella twirled around, showing off her princess dress Tara had squeezed her into this morning.
It had been a hectic day thus far. For some reason Cordelia had been ready to tie Xander to either Angel or Spike, something about leaving her at the alter and castration? I wasn’t about to ask, but Angel and Spike did keep an eye on the young man. Giles had finally agreed to come over as well, more likely under the influence of Anya. Even Gunn has showed up, wearing the same suit he’d worn to my wedding where he and Angel had been my best man.
“You look lovely, sweetheart,” I assured her for the quite possibly thousandth time today.
“Lift!” She raised her small arms up in the universal pick me up gesture. I smiled and did just that, not because she had *me * wound around any fingers, but it gave me something to do. Thus far I had been cursed at by Cordelia for some reason or other. Looked at quite annoyed by Tara when I dared to suggest she sat down to rest. And begged by Xander to bring him something to drink. And no, that didn’t mean water.
Walking around with my daughter seemed like the thing to do. I was worried about Tara, considering she was pregnant with our second child and about ready to give birth. Cordelia had wanted to postpone, but Tara would have none of it. The dress of the matron of honor was altered monthly along side the bride’s dress.
Cordelia was nothing if not a perfectionist.
“Mommy, Dawnie and Aunt Cordelia look wealy pwetty too,” Isobella declared while we walked over to the grooms room to check up on Xander. I patted my pocket to make sure the ring was still there. Of course it was, I took my responsibilities as best man quite serious. Dawn was fluttering about as well, making sure the food was in order, the flowers, the…god only knows what. She too, was a matron of honor.
“Should I pwactise throwing flowers, daddy?” Isobelle was to be the flower girl.
“I don’t think that’s needed, dear. You’ll do wonderful.”
“Otay!”
Smiling down at her I shake my head and knock on the door. “Xander? Is everything still fine?”
“Fine!” He squeaked.
Frowning, I shared a look with Isobella and started to open the door. Before I could get it open a crack it slammed shut. “’E’s fine!” Spike’s voice declared.
“Everything’s fine, Wes,” Angel agreed, which made me instantly suspicious. “Just relaxing…and making sure he’s not taking off or something. You know.”
Not really, but I wasn’t about to point that out. “Angel? Don’t make me regret leaving you two there with Xander. You’re not the one who’s going to get skewered, remember?”
“Don’t worry, Wes. Everything’s fine. “
Hmmm. Rolling my eyes, a gesture echoed by my daughter, I made my way over to the bride’s room. “Let’s just make sure your mum is getting enough rest.”
“Mummy said she was gonna hit you if you asked again, Daddy,” She helpfully pointed out.
“Going to,” I corrected automatically, “yes, well. Just making sure your Mummy and baby brother or sister wont get to tired.”
I think Isobella spends to much time with Cordelia if that snort is anything to go by. “Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“I need to go wee-wee.”
I glanced down at the girl balancing on my hip in her pretty dress with the many petticoats and the rather difficult clasps and things, and grinned. “Really?” I said, trying to sound perpetuated. “We’ll just have to get your Mum then wont we.”
“Uh huh, I can so do it myself,” she insisted, sticking out her bottom lip.
“Right you are. But we wouldn’t want to ruin the pretty dress now would we?” I pointed out arriving at the door of the bride’s room. Taking a deep breath I knocked on the door and plastered a polite smile on my face. “Tara dear? Isobella needs to use the bathroom.”
“Something wrong with your hands, Wes?” Cordelia’s voice scolded.
“I’m talking to my wife,” I said back to the door with utmost patient.
“Kinda busy here, dorkboy!”
“Mommy! I need to go wee-wee and daddy don’t know dresses!”
“Doesn’t know. And please don‘t call it wee-wee, love. It‘s ‘I have to use the toilet‘. ” I told Isobella, “See? I have a legitimate reason to be here,” I argued through the door, which is utterly ridiculous. “Besides, Tara needs her rest.”