Title: More to the World
Author: Michelle
Rating: FRT (suitable for teens)
Character(s): Giles/Wesley
Word Count: 300
Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They belong to Joss, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy. This is purely for fun.
Wesley ran his finger along the bookshelf, reading the titles. "I didn't realize you had such an extensive personal collection." He moved to the next shelf. "You do know that most of these books are forbidden by the Council?" he asked.
"Is that why you're here?" Giles asked. "Did the Council send you?"
"No. I'm only surprised that you would display them openly."
"I assure you they're protected," Giles said. "You're surprised that I have them at all?"
"Yes."
"Would you rather let the enemy have them?"
"No," Wesley replied hastily. "It's just . . ."
"Wesley, there is more to the world than the Council."
"I know. That's why I'm here."
Giles was silent as he waited for Wesley to explain.
"The Council fired me," Wesley admitted.
"That's no reason to follow me half way around the world. You have a home."
"Not where I'd be welcome," Wesley mumbled. He turned and walked to the door. "Perhaps this was a bad idea. I should go."
Giles blocked his way. "I can't help if you don't talk to me."
"I don't need help," he whispered.
"Then why are you here?" Giles asked.
"You're the only one that doesn't look down on me because of my failure."
"You didn't fail, Wesley."
"The Council believes otherwise."
"In the end, you ignored the Council and did the right thing." Giles sighed. "Why are you here?" he asked again. "Why are you in my home?"
"I wanted to see you. I miss working with you. I know we didn't get along in Sunnydale, but I was hoping that . . ."
"You're always welcome here, Wesley. You always have been."
"Even after I made an ass of myself in Sunnydale?" Wesley asked.
"I thought it was for show, actually. We wouldn't want everyone to learn of our past. Would we?"
*******
The End
*******
The smell of fresh paint greeted him as he opened the door. He was perplexed. Buffy had agreed to not paint the room yet. He had argued for a neutral color, but she'd been set on pink or blue. "It's traditional," she'd argued.
Reaching the room, he peered inside. "If Buffy thinks we'll repaint two of the walls later-"
He was cut off by the ring of his cell phone. He answered and was greeted cheerfully by Buffy. "Do you like it?" she asked.
"Yes, but pink and blue? What were you thinking?"
"Twins. One girl. One boy."
"Oh Dear Lord."
*******
The End
*******
Playing the guitar was one of his guilty pleasures. Although, lately it had become more of a chore.
"I should just make a recording," Giles suggested.
"Tried that already. Doesn't work," Buffy responded. "They can tell the difference."
"There must be another way."
"This is the only thing that makes them stop kicking. I think it actually puts them to sleep. If they're asleep, then I can sleep."
He picked up the guitar and began to play. Buffy started humming along but fell asleep before the song ended. He stopped playing and leaned over to kiss her belly. "Good night."
*******
The End
*******
Giles winced as he tried to close his hand. He'd been hurt before, but none of it compared to what he was feeling now. Nothing could have prepared him for this level of pain.
"You should have that checked out soon," Buffy told him. "Something might be broken."
"And what should I tell them when they ask what happened?" he asked.
Buffy smiled. "It can't be that strange. I'm sure they see things like this all the time. Just tell them the truth."
"I'll be humiliated," he grumbled.
"You were warned about holding her hand during labor," Dawn told him.
*******
The End
*******
He was there to do a job. So, how did he end up like this? There was no gain in this. It wouldn't help the cause. It was silly; he knew that. She'd want nothing to do with him.
Yet he stood by the door, waiting.
The first time he saw her, he knew she was different from the others. The way she carried herself, the way she talked, even the clothes she wore all spoke of a different upbringing. She was too good for him. If she ever learned of his past, she'd hate him.
Still he waited.
He should be home enjoying the pleasure of a good book and a cup of tea. He doubted she enjoyed such things. She was much too modern.
Still he waited.
Classes had let out long ago, and the hallway was deserted. He knew he should go inside or leave, but he stood still. Was he waiting for her to come to him?
Finally, he took a deep breath and opened the door. He had to face his fear sometime. The sight of the computers almost made him turn around, but he didn't.
"Jenny?"
She smiled. "Rupert, I didn't think you'd come."