Title: Deceptions and Betrayals 13/21
Author: Ness
Contact: sessa1_2@yahoo.com
Written: 09/08/2003
Spoilers: Nothing after "Wrecked" in season 6 on BtVS and anything before "Sleep Tight" on AtS. But this is completely AU.
Summary: This one is a sequel to "When You Least Expect It". If you didn't read that one, this will probably confuse you.
Pairings: Cordelia/Giles and Buffy/Wesley
Rating: PG most of the time but there are NC-17 parts.
Distribution: Anyone that already has permission. Anyone else, please ask first.

Disclaimer: We all know who owns 'em and it ain't me. Joss and Co. are gods in their universe, I'm just a peon in mine.
Thanks to Suzanne for the beta. It is much appreciated, Chica. *G*
A/N: I did a bit of juggling with this after Suz saw it, so any and all mistakes are mine--as usual. ;-)
Dedication: This one is for Kerrie. She gave me the idea that ended an almost six month block. She read this puppy even though she didn't normally read these pairings. Now, I've corrupted her or that's what she says anyway. *G* Thanks darlin', you're the best.

Buffy leaned against the doorjamb and knocked softly. She was so tired, both emotionally and physically. Trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Giles could die was taking more energy than she could seem to muster.

Wesley's head came up from the text he was reading at the quiet sound. He opened the door to find her slumped against the doorframe, looking, for all the world, like she would fall over if the slightest wind blew through. "Buffy?"

She slowly lifted her head to look at him with pain-filled eyes.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" He asked, foreboding filling him.

"Can I just come in and sit down?" She moved to push herself from the door and stumbled.

He caught her and helped her into the living room depositing her on the sofa before retrieving her bag from the hallway. He started to ask her again what was wrong, but the weariness on her face tore at his heart. He eased her down on the sofa and covered her with a throw.

"I'm okay," she mumbled.

"Of course you are," he agreed, even as he tucked her in. "Just rest."

Buffy wanted to tell him that she didn't need to be babied, but she couldn't seem to work up the energy. She told herself she would just rest her eyes for a moment and then she sank like a stone into the dark well of oblivion.

****

Wesley sat in a chair and studied the woman sleeping on his sofa. He didn't notice the room darkening until the only illumination coming through his window was the muted lights of L.A. She had turned on her side and pillowed her cheek on one slim hand. It was sometimes difficult to remember just what those hands had done, and what they were capable of. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his fatigued eyes; unsure what he was feeling for the blonde Slayer, but knowing, without a doubt, that it was folly to entertain anything other than friendship for her. She was trudging down her own path and probably had no desire to even look at someone else's. He shoved his glasses back on and took a deep breath.

She sighed and stretched. She was short enough that the sofa didn't impede her, but he knew she couldn't be comfortable.

He took a deep breath and stood, deciding that the worse she could do was leave a few bruises. He didn't think what he was about to do warranted any broken bones. He crossed the short distance to stand by the sofa and pulled the throw away from her.

She whimpered softly at the loss of its warmth.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom.

He awkwardly pulled the covers down with one hand and gently laid her on the bed. He pulled off her shoes and socks. He didn't even think of removing any other clothing. That would most certainly earn him broken appendages.

He turned the light on in the bathroom and left the door ajar, so she wouldn 't wake in total darkness. He changed into his sleepwear and laid down on the sofa. He breathed deeply of her scent and let that be the last thing he was conscious of before sleep carried him away.

****

Wesley woke, trying to figure out what was wrong. He stretched and hit the arm of the sofa with his foot. *That* was what was wrong. He was sleeping on the sofa and now he had a most painful cramp in his back. He slowly sat up, wincing at the pain and stood. He moved quietly to his bedroom and peeked in.

Buffy wasn't in the bed.

He ventured further in the room and saw his window open. He started to panic when he saw a shadow on the fire escape.

****

She sat on the fire escape and watched the night. Not that there was a lot to see, but it was better to be sitting on the cold, damp steel than in bed being haunted by ghosts she couldn't exorcise. She became aware of a presence in the room behind her and knew that Wesley had found her.

"Buffy?" His voice drifted out to her. He seemed to be talking quietly, almost as if he was afraid that she might do something stupid. Like she would ever jump off of anything again.

"Hey, Wes," she answered.

"What are you doing out there?"

"Just needed some air."

"At three a.m.?"

"Yep," she replied, never taking her eyes off the night.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. She sounded calm, but something told him that she was hanging by a thread and he didn't have any idea what might cause that thread to snap. That worried him more than he liked.

"Am I making you nervous?"

He hesitated for a split second before answering somewhat truthfully. "Slightly."

She half-smiled to herself before rising gracefully and coming back into the room.

"Far be it from me to disturb your sleep," she teased him quietly.

He resisted the urge to grasp her by the shoulders so that he might see her better.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

He bit back the obvious reply--that she was far from fine. Instead he asked if she would like some tea. She nodded and he went to put on the kettle.

****

She sat at the table and absently stirred her tea. She reached for the sugar container and Wesley moved it out of her reach.

"If you add one more spoon of sugar to your cup, you will turn it into syrup," he replied to her unspoken question.

"I haven't put that much," she protested.

He raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

She took a sip and couldn't suppress a shudder.

He smirked.

"Would you like to tell me what is bothering you?" He asked after he poured her a fresh cup of tea. He watched as she added milk and sugar. He couldn't repress a grin as the careful way she measured both.

"It doesn't concern you," she said quietly, head down.

He couldn't say why those four words cut him so deeply.

She looked at him and caught the flash of hurt in his eyes.

"Oh, Wes. I'm sor--."

He held up a hand. "No, Buffy. You are entitled to your privacy."

She shoved back from the table with a burst of angry energy.

"God, can I ever say what I mean without hurting someone I care about?" She started to leave the room.

His quiet voice stopped her. "You care for me?"

She spun around to look at him. He ducked his head, but not before she saw the raw plea there. He truly didn't understand his own worth. She moved to kneel beside his chair.

He tried to turn from her, but she captured his hand in one of her own and used the other to gently grasp his chin to force him to look at her.

"Why do you think so little of yourself?" She asked, genuinely mystified.

"Because I've never had anyone, other than Angel, Cordelia and a few others, think more," he answered without guile or self-pity.

Buffy released him abruptly and rocked back on her heels.

He stood and left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

****

Wesley sank down on the front steps of his building. He couldn't be in the same apartment as Buffy after making such a monumental fool of himself. What the hell had possessed him to open himself up like that? What made him think she cared?

He noticed the night sky beginning to lighten and realized just how long he' d been outside.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself before returning to face her.

He saw her curled up on the sofa as he entered the apartment. He thought at first she was waiting for him, but then he realized she had fallen asleep. She must have been exhausted to have drifted off in that position.

He repeated his earlier actions of the night and picked her up and returned her to his bed.

Then he sat on the sofa, thinking, until it was time to begin the day.

****

Buffy woke with her head buried in a pillow. The last thing she remembered was sitting on the sofa, waiting for Wesley to come back in. She'd thought about going after him, but decided that he needed some time alone. She was going to talk to him when he got back, but had fallen asleep. Since she didn 't know how she'd gotten in bed, she could only guess he did his gentleman thing again and carried her.

She shook her head at that. How could a man be so good and kind to others, yet feel he was worth so little.

She threw back the covers and found her overnight bag where he'd left it. She went into the bathroom and quickly showered and dressed.

When she found him in the kitchen, he was making coffee.

"Wes--?"

He turned and she saw the resolution in his eyes not to talk about last night. She tried anyway. "About last night--"

He held up a hand. "What would you like for breakfast?" His tone was even and calm. It was also devoid of any of the emotion of the night before.

She sighed.

"Whatever you fix is fine," she answered softly. She didn't have the energy to push him right now, she had to be at Giles and Cordy's this morning, but she hoped he realized that this wasn't finished.

Wesley released a breath. Apparently, she was willing to forget about the night before. He certainly hoped so.

He served her breakfast.

****

Half an hour later, Buffy was on her way to her Watcher's house. She'd filled Wesley in on what was going on and had been told to tell Cordelia and Giles that he was willing to help in anyway he could.

She knocked on the door and when it swung open, she was greeted to the sight of--nothing.

"Hi, Dennis."

The air around her warmed a bit in greeting. A cup of coffee floated to her and she took it and sipped.

"Thanks."

She'd been a little wigged by having a ghost living with her Watcher, but then she'd gotten to know him. He was nicer than most of the living, breathing males she knew. She laughed softly to herself.

"What's so funny?" Cordelia's voice drifted to her just before she came into view.

"Just thinking about Dennis," she replied.

"You think Dennis is funny?"

"Not Dennis, just the fact he's sweeter than most of the guys I can actually see."

Cordelia laughed and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he is one of the best."

The curtains fluttered in pleasure at this unexpected praise coming from two of his favorite people.

"Where's Giles?" Buffy looked around.

"He's finishing shaving and dressing. He'll be here in a minute." Cordelia gestured for Buffy to sit down.

"So what's the deal? How do we fight this?"

"Let's wait for him."

Buffy sat down and twisted her hands in her lap. She was worried about Giles. And, now, she was worried about Wesley.

"Cordy?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you know about Wesley's life in England?"

Cordelia eyed the blonde woman sitting across from her with serious eyes.

"Not much, other than the fact that everything I've found out about his family makes me think they're jerks."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you think they're jerks?"

Cordelia sighed. "Because when he was shot, there wasn't one letter, one phone call, nothing to show they cared."

"How do you know they knew?" Buffy couldn't believe that someone just wouldn't care if their child almost died.

"Because I called them." She still fumed about that phone call.

"You're sure they got the message?"

"I'm positive, I spoke to Mister Wyndham-Pryce himself."

"Wesley's dad?"

"Yep. I told him that his son was lying in a hospital bed. You know what he said?" Cordelia's voice shook with remembered anger.

"What?"

"He said he appreciated the call, but Wesley was no longer his concern. If he had fallen into the wrong crowd, it wasn't the Wyndham-Pryces' problem anymore."

Buffy suppressed a shaft of anger at that. How could a father be so damned heartless? She realized more and more as the years went by that she was lucky that her mom had cared. She might not have always made the right decisions, but at least she always let her daughters know she loved them.

"Does Wesley know about that call?"

"No, I never had the heart to tell him."

Buffy nodded.

Giles came into the room right at that moment and knew that he'd missed something.

"Is anything wrong?"

Cordelia shook her head as she watched the Slayer. Buffy was deep in thought and didn't seem to notice the scrutiny.

Giles looked at his Slayer and back to his wife. He raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'what's all this?'.

She just shook her head again, the movement telling him she'd fill him in later.

He quirked his brow again and dropped it.

He sat down in the chair opposite the sofa.

"First of all, you need to know where the threat originates from," Giles began.

"Which is?" Buffy pushed the other worries out of her mind, devoting her full attention to her Watcher.

"The museum."

"Your museum?" Cordelia's surprise was evident.

He nodded.

"Someone is using dark magicks in order to incapacitate me." He paused "Or worse," he finished in a quiet voice.

Cordelia paled slightly at the flat, unemotional way he described the fact that someone was trying to murder him.

Buffy clenched her teeth. Losing control wouldn't help anybody, but all she wanted to do was go find who was hurting Giles and pound on them until everything on them hurt or bled, preferably both.

Giles continued. "I haven't been able to pin down who's doing it, but I know it must be someone fairly close to me every day. This type of spell requires the castor to be quite near the subject."

"Robert?" Cordelia hated to think the man that had gotten so close to Giles would be the one doing this.

"I can't rule out the possibility." Giles rubbed the back of his neck wearily.

Cordelia got up and walked around behind him. She pushed his hand out of the way and began to knead the taught muscles at the base of his skull. He breathed deeply and leaned his head back to rest against her chest and smile at her.

She kissed his forehead gently and continued to work on the knot of nerves in his neck.

"What do we do now?" Buffy hated feeling helpless.

"We wait," Giles replied.

"What?" Buffy and Cordelia exclaimed in unison.

"We don't have a choice," he explained patiently. "If we move too quickly, whoever is doing this will simply change their tactics and try something we' re not ready for."

"What happens if you die while we wait?" Frustration and fear made Buffy's voice rough. She was immediately contrite when she saw Cordelia go pale.

Giles felt Cordelia stiffen at the question. He laid a hand over hers.

"I won't die."

"How do you know?"

"Because now that I know what's being done to me, I can take steps to counteract the spell."

"Are you sure?" Buffy couldn't help the spike of hope that spiraled through her.

He nodded. "Very."

Behind him, Cordelia released a breath she hadn't been aware of holding. He felt it and squeezed her hand.

Buffy finally relaxed enough to lean back against the sofa as she nodded. "Okay. Now what do we do to catch these bastards and teach them not to mess with us?"

"First we find out who is casting the spell."

"And then?"

Giles' eyes went flinty. "Then, we stop them," he said in a cold voice.

Both women nodded their approval and they began to work out a game plan.

****

Buffy got back to Wesley's a little before dusk and she started to knock on the door when she heard voices coming from inside.

Loud voices.

"You are just as irresponsible as always, Wesley," a cultured voice said.

"Father, please?" Wesley sounded tired and--intimidated?

"Please what? You have always been a disappointment to the family."

Buffy didn't wait to hear anymore. She quickly turned the knob and entered the apartment.

She came face-to-face with an older Wesley. Until you looked a little closer and saw that where Wesley, under all his reserve, was warm and understanding, this man was as cold as they came.

"I see your choice of companions hasn't improved since I last spoke to you," the older man stated as he looked down is aristocratic nose at her.

Wesley sighed and started to apologize until a look from Buffy told him to not even try it. He resigned himself to a scene and introduced them.

He gestured to Buffy. "Buffy Summers, this is my father, William Wyndham-Pryce."

He made the same motion in his father's direction. "Father, this is Buffy Summers. You may have heard of her, she's the Slayer," he couldn't resist adding.

"Of course I know who she is," his father snapped. "I thought she threw you out on your ear?" He turned to his son. "That would also be when you were thrown out of the Council in disgrace," he reminded his son snidely. He turned to the woman regarding him with something akin to fury building in her eyes. "As for you," he sneered, "you're as much of a disgrace as he is."

Wesley's entire demeanor changed.

"Get out," he said furiously.

His father looked at him with barely-concealed contempt. "What did you say?"

"I said get out!" The ex-Watcher ground out through clenched teeth.

"Surely, you don't think to order me about?" William snorted.

"You may say what you wish about me," Wesley told him. "But you are not allowed to come into my home and slander one of the finest women I have ever known."

William Wyndham-Pryce began to laugh. "Oh, my. You have feelings for her? How rich!" He turned to Buffy. "How does it feel to know that a complete failure has a school-boy crush on you?" He laughed again.

Wesley's face flamed in mortification as he waited for Buffy's response. When it came, his mouth dropped open in shock.

"Well, for one thing, he's not a failure, complete or otherwise," Buffy drawled. "As for the other, I'd really like it to be more than a crush since I'm in love with him and I was kinda hoping he felt the same." With that startling announcement, she walked over to where the younger British man was standing and slipped her arms around his waist and gently kissed him.

Wesley's father gaped at them. "You can't possibly be serious?"

"Why not?" She turned to glare at the older man.

"Because--because--," Wesley's father sputtered.

"Hey, you're the one that said we're disgraces. Why shouldn't we be disgraces together?"

He turned an interesting shade of purple at having his own words thrown back at him.

Wesley couldn't seem to grasp the fact Buffy was doing this. He had been caught by surprise when his father knocked on his door this morning. Now, he wasn't sure what to think at all.

"If you are so enamored with my son, I'm sure you would consent to having dinner with his family tonight." The older man smirked, obviously believing that the Slayer would have no part in that.

"Sure," she accepted calmly.

The sneer slid off his face.

"Buffy," Wesley said as he turned her to face him. "You don't have to do this."

She light touched his lips to shush him. "Of course I do. I'm in love with you and, though I won't say I'm looking forward to dinner with your father," she said as the man in question turned red with indignation. "I will say that any time I spend with you is worth it." She threw a glance at his father. "No matter who I have to put up with to do it."

"I will not stay here and be insulted," Wesley's father sputtered.

Buffy turned to him again. "Do you promise?" She asked hopefully.

He threw a scathing glance at her and his son and stormed out of the apartment.

Buffy closed the door behind and leaned against it as she looked at a confused Wesley.

"Why did you do that?" He asked.

"Because he needed to be taught a lesson." She didn't pretend to misunderstand him.

"That's all?" He couldn't hide the disappointment.

She returned to his side and took his hand. She pushed him down on the sofa and sat down beside him.

"No, that's not all. I like spending time with you, Wes." She picked up his hand and began to stroke it absently. "But I also know what it's like to never quite live up to your father's expectations." She turned his hand over and traced his lifeline. "I don't want to see you hurt and your father's disapproval hurts you. If I can do something to fix that, I will," she finished simply.

Wesley pulled his hand from her, unwilling to admit just how strongly her touch was affecting him, and stood.

"My father will always disapprove of me, Buffy." He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "It's nothing you can change." He put his glasses back on. "Putting yourself in the position of having to deal with my family is something that I would wish on no one, most especially someone I consider a friend."

"It can't be that bad, Wes."

"Yes, it can. Believe me, yes it can," he said with a sad sigh.

"Well, it doesn't matter what you think anyway, I've already told him I'd be there. Besides, I owe you anyway. Consider this payback." She winked at him.

"You owe me nothing, Buffy."

"Yes, I do. And this dinner is my way of paying back just a little bit." She headed to the kitchen. "You want something to drink?"

"No, thank you." Wesley drew in a deep breath. How on earth was he supposed to get through a dinner with his parents and Buffy without exposing the truth? He had managed to, without conscious thought, do a supremely moronic thing. He had fallen in love with Buffy Summers.

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