Title: Deceptions and Betrayals 14/21
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 sat beside Wesley in the cab and wondered just exactly what she was getting herself into. She knew from Cordelia and from things Wesley had said that his parents weren't exactly Mike and Carol Brady. She snuck a glance in his direction. He looked--tense. She leaned back in the seat and wondered again what she was getting herself into.

Wesley felt Buffy shift in the seat and cringed. He would have dreaded this evening, regardless, now it was his worst nightmare come true. He had just admitted to himself what he felt for her and she was about to be forced to endure his parents. He prayed for this night to pass quickly.

****

The Slayer walked into the posh restaurant and forced herself not to gawk. She knew people lived like this, but she'd never gotten an up-close-and-personal look at it before. She suddenly felt very out of place and very inadequate.

She felt Wesley put his hand on the small of her back to help guide her and ss they made their way across the room, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "You are worth a hundred of these people, Buffy. Never forget that."

She suddenly felt more at ease. She didn't much care what the others thought as long as the man beside her wasn't ashamed of her.

They crossed to stand before his parents.

His father viewed them with disdain. It was clear that he hadn't expected Buffy to show up. The fact that she did seemed to irritate him immensely.

Wesley's mother seemed to be waiting for something.

"Well, Wesley. Aren't you going to introduce us?" She looked Buffy up and down as though she were a bug under glass.

"Yes, of course," Wesley stammered as he remembered his manners. "Buffy, this is my mother, Margaret Wyndham-Pryce. Mother, this is Buffy Summers."

"Miss Summers." Wesley's mother acknowledged the Slayer with a slight nod of her head. "My husband tells me that you fancy yourself in love with Wesley," the older woman said.

Buffy shook her head to herself. Sheesh, these people may have money, but her mom had taught *her* better manners. "You husband has it a little wrong."

Margaret cocked an eyebrow in question. A question that Buffy answered quickly because she felt the man beside her stiffen.

"I don't *fancy* myself in love with Wesley. I *am* in love with Wesley." She felt Wesley relax and she reached down to slip her hand into his.

"Why?" His mother asked bluntly.

"Come again?" Buffy couldn't believe a mother would have to ask that question about her own son.

"Why do you think so?" The older woman seemed hard-pressed to understand what Buffy was telling her.

Buffy ground her teeth together. "Okay--one more time, from the top. I don' t *fancy* or *think* myself to be in love with Wesley. I *am* in love with him. Totally. And I find it a little insulting that one: you don't think I would know for sure. And two: That you seem to find it so unbelievable."

"You find it insulting?" Margaret's tone was mystified.

"Yes." Buffy nodded emphatically. "I mean, Wesley is intelligent, charming, considerate, compassionate and handsome. Geez, what's not to love?"

The charming man's father snorted derisively. "You must be speaking of someone else. You surely cannot be talking about my son."

Buffy fought the urge to smack him. How could he be so cruel to his own son? It was like a sport to him and the more he hurt Wesley, the more points he scored. She glanced at his wife and held the woman's gaze. The Slayer wanted to know if she felt the same as her husband. For a long moment, it seemed as though she did, but then Buffy saw the icy mask slip. Just for a moment, but it was enough. The mother didn't like it either, but she wasn't brave enough to buck her husband and defend her son. That, in Buffy's mind, was intolerable. And she'd be damned if they sat through an entire dinner of it.

William interrupted her thoughts. "Take your seats, we've taken the liberty of ordering for you."

Buffy looked at Wesley and could see that he didn't want to be here either.

"I don't think so," she said as she squeezed Wesley's hand.

"What?" The older man looked amazed that anyone might contradict him.

"I said I don't think so." Buffy realized she was enjoying telling this old windbag off. "I'm not going to sit through a dinner when the sole reason is to cause Wesley pain. We'll go somewhere where we'll both be comfortable."

She smiled at the man beside her and they left the restaurant, his father spluttering in an inarticulate rage behind them.

****

The two of them stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant and looked at one another for a long moment before Buffy could no longer contain it and started to giggle. Wesley managed to hold it together for a few moments more, but he eventually lost the battle and went down.

Buffy finally got control and, wiping tears from her eyes, suggested that they head back to his apartment.

He started to hail a cab.

"No, don't. I want to walk." She laid a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Very well." He gallantly offered her his arm. "Shall we, m'lady?"

She laughed and took it. "Why, thank you, kind sir."

Wesley strolled beside her and considered the woman he had fallen in love with. She had defended him. He had no doubt that Cordelia or Angel would have done so if they'd been there, but the fact remained that Buffy had been the one to do it, seemingly without thought. He wasn't sure what he could do to be worthy of that, but he wanted to be. He truly did. He remembered how he had held such disdain for her when he'd first met her because she wasn't the Slayer he'd been trained to believe she should be. God, could he have been more wrong? She was one of the most successful slayers in history and it was due, in large part, to her refusal to adhere to the norm. She refused to do what others expected her to do and it had saved her life time and time again.

He stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Buffy had stopped when he did, the apology catching her by surprise.

"For what? Your parents?" She waved her hand in dismissal. "It's okay, I mean, you can't choose your parents. You don't have to apologize for them."

"Not for my parents, for myself," he said quietly, watching her.

She cocked her head to one side and studied him. "Why for yourself?" She asked after a moment.

"I was a complete ass to you when I first came to Sunnydale. I assumed that I knew more than a Slayer who had stayed alive in the field for years. I, of course, never having dealt with a vampire, or anything else, other than in controlled conditions." His voice was heavy with self-condemnation as he turned away from her, rubbing the back of his neck wearily.

Buffy went to him and turned him to face her. She reached up and framed his face between her hands. "You don't have to apologize."

"Buffy, I--."

"Wes, we worked all this out, remember?" She gently reminded him.

"That doesn't make what I did right," he insisted.

"No, it doesn't," she agreed. She put a finger to his lips to hush him. "But I made mistakes, too." She looked at him with troubled eyes. "I thought we'd gotten past this?"

Wesley closed his eyes against the hurt in he saw, and sighed. "We did, it's just--."

"Seeing your parents brought it all back?" she guessed.

He nodded.

She hesitated a moment before putting her arms around him and hugging him. She knew that she was treading dangerous territory, but she couldn't seem him hurt like this and not try to ease it. She wasn't sure what she was feeling for him, but she knew it was a lot more than she'd felt in a long time.

Wesley stood shock-still for a split-second before he slowly allowed his arms to encircle her. He closed his eyes against the feeling of rightness that flowed through him. Was this the Powers-That-Be's way of punishing him for his transgressions, by putting what he wanted so desperately so close, yet so far out of his reach?

He held her for a bit longer before setting her away from him and mustering up a half-hearted smile.

"Shall we go?" He offered her his arm once more.

She nodded and took hold of him. Her mind was reeling with what she'd just admitted to herself. In that moment when he'd held her close to him, she'd had an epiphany. She was in love with Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Oh, boy, she groaned to herself. Did she need any more complications in her life? Falling in love with the man walking beside her wasn't a bad thing in-and-of-itself. But his connection to other people in her life could seriously foul up what she'd just started to get straightened out.

She sighed.

Wesley felt it and cringed. He should have known better than to burden her with his problems. He'd learned that lesson years ago--why hadn't he listened to the small voice inside him that had been yelling at him to shut the hell up and tell her nothing was wrong? He resisted the urge to smack himself on the forehead. Because you're in love with her, you bloody idiot, the small voice told him.

Now, he sighed.

And Buffy felt it.

"We're a pair, aren't we?" She asked, a hint of mischief coloring her tone.

He heard it and smiled in spite of himself. "Yes, I suppose we are," he agreed with a small smile.

"I've got a great idea," she said suddenly.

He looked at her suspiciously. She looked entirely too pleased with herself.

"What?"

"Miniature golf!" She stated with a raised hand and triumphant smile.

"Miniature what?" He asked in a mystified voice.

"What? You mean you've never heard of miniature golf?" She put her hand to her chest in a gesture of shock. "You poor deprived soul, you." She grabbed his hand and dragged him along. "C'mon, we're gonna educate you right now."

She pulled him along, his deep laughter mingling with hers.

****

Several hours later, they fell into the door of his apartment, laughing and exhausted.

"I can't believe you missed that shot," she told him as she plopped down on his sofa.

"Buffy, how was I supposed to make that shot? The clown's hands kept getting in the way," he defended himself.

"Hey, that five-year old kid made it," she reminded him with glee.

He drew himself up with as much dignity as he could muster. "Yes, well--he put his ball closer to the hole."

"You telling me that you needed a handicap against a pre-schooler?" She dissolved in laughter.

He tried to look stern, but lost his battle as he saw how much fun she'd had. And, truthfully, he couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed himself that much--even if he did lose to a pre-schooler, he thought wryly.

"Whatcha thinking?" Buffy's voice intruded on his thoughts.

"How much I enjoyed today," he answered truthfully.

She nodded. Then she looked at her watch.

"Oh my God!" She jumped up. "I've gotta call home. I told them I'd be home an hour ago."

Wesley had begun to listen to his answering machine messages before her outburst and stilled her with a hand on her shoulder as he listened to the second one.

Willow's voice drifted out of the speaker. "Hey Wes. If you see Buffy, could you let her know that Dawn's fine and staying with a friend tonight, so if she doesn't want to come home till tomorrow, that would be okay. I called Giles, but he said he hadn't seen her since this morning. Could you have her call me you two get home, I mean, if you see her. Bye." Wesley could almost see the blush he knew Willow must have had at that little slip.

The machine beeped to indicate the end of the message and Wesley looked at the date/time stamp. "This came in several hours ago."

Buffy gave a sigh of relief.

"May I use your phone?"

"Certainly, I'll put the kettle on." Wesley left her to her call.

****

Giles worked in his office as he put the spell he'd found into effect. He did it under the cover of researching Egyptian antiquities. He knew that if he didn't do it very subtly, it would be a slap in the face to whoever was doing the original spell. He couldn't take the chance they would change to a spell he had no experience with.

He chanted quietly and watched the door. If he did this right, the person hexing him might feel a shift in the power of their spell, but they wouldn't know it had been countered. He released the spell so slowly that he could almost feel the power trickling out of his fingertips.

When it was done, he could feel an immediate relief from the exhaustion and pain he'd been living with for weeks. He paused to see if there was any disturbance in the protective shield he'd placed around himself. That was one way the spell had been modified. Normally, the spell being done was a healing spell. Giles added certain other elements that made it a healing spell and protection spell. Now, the waiting began. How long would it hold and who would be the person to show themselves when they discovered what had been done was anyone's guess.

He jumped when a firm knock rattled his door.

"Come in," he called, glad that his voice was steadier than his nerves at the moment.

His secretary stuck her head in.

"Mister Giles, Mister Matthews would like to see you in his office right away."

"Thank you, Lisa. Tell him I'll be there shortly."

She left, closing the door quietly behind her. He took a deep breath and went to meet the man that was his boss, and he thought, his friend. Now, he wasn't so sure. He rubbed his forehead and squeezed his eyes closed. He hated having to be so bloody suspicious all the time. He sighed and left the office.

****

Forty-five minutes later, he returned to his office with a heavy heart. He had no doubt that Robert was the one behind the spell. Now all he had to do was devise a way to get him to confess. He pulled off his glasses and tossed them on his desk as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He sat silent for a moment, allowing the disappointment of shattered trust to flow through him before he sighed, picked up his glasses and shoved them on. Robert was a betrayer; nothing could be done about that. But he could make damn sure the man couldn't touch anyone else he cared about. All at once, a plan came to him. One in which he wouldn't have to physically hurt the bloody bastard--unless of course, it was the only option. He smiled tightly and began to put the plan in motion.

****

Several hours later, he slammed the front door and called out. "Cordelia!"

She came out of the kitchen. "What? Sheesh, where's the fire, Giles?"

"I've invited Robert to dinner."

She looked at him strangely for a minute.

"Okay--and this is supposed to mean something, how?"

"He's the one doing the spell," he told her bluntly.

"The bastard!" Her temper spiked so hard, she had trouble controlling the demon aspect of her personality and her eyes glowed for a moment.

Giles took her in his arms to calm her. "Don't worry, darling. I've got a plan."

She pulled back and got a good look at him and started to laugh.

"Oh, man. This guy's not gonna know what hit him."

"I certainly hope not." Giles couldn't help the thrill that shot through him. He very seldom allowed his baser side to rule his nature, but he had to admit, it was something of a rush when he did.

A lamp flickered off and a door slammed suddenly.

"Don't worry, Dennis. You have a part to play in this plan as well," Giles assured him. He could almost feel the satisfaction coming from Dennis. The ghost was very protective of Cordelia and that protectiveness had extended itself to her husband. He was not happy that someone had tried to hurt Giles.

The Watcher began to lay out his plan.

****

Robert Matthews knocked on the Giles' door and shoved down a feeling of unease. He'd had dinner with them before; this time shouldn't be any different. 'No, but it is and you know it," a voice whispered.

He ignored it. He was having an attack of conscience--or rather, he's been having one ever since this whole mess got started. But he didn't have a choice, damn it.

Giles opened the door with a smile and ushered him in.

"Sit down, Robert." he gestured to a chair.

Robert didn't know why he was feeling so uneasy. "Why did you ask me over tonight?"

The man across from him looked at him innocently.

"I just wanted to invite a friend to dinner. Why? Should there be another reason?"

"No, no. Of course not." Robert stammered. "It's just you usually don't invite me over on the spur-of-the-moment like this."

"I've actually had this little get-together planned for quite some time, I just didn't know who the guest-of-honor would be," Giles said in a cryptic voice.

The man sitting across from him began to worry in earnest. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he didn't want to be here.

He moved to get up when Cordelia walked into the room.

"Sit down, Robert. What's your hurry?" She asked as she sat down on the arm of the chair where her husband sat. She laid her arm across his shoulders and leaned into him.

The curator's unease kicked into orbit. Something was going on and every instinct he had told him he'd walked into a trap. He just couldn't figure out how they'd found out.

"What's going on, Rupert?" He asked, feigning mystification.

Giles slowly straightened and stood.

"I think you know, Robert," he replied, his voice frosty.

"Rupert--."

"SILENCE!" Giles thundered.

Robert couldn't speak. He also couldn't move.

"Do you understand now?" Giles strode over to the man. "You aren't the only one capable of dabbling in magic, I've done so before." He stopped. "I simply choose not to, because I know the gains rarely outweigh the consequences." He hauled the prone man up to stand before him. "But then, you weren't paying any consequences, were you? You simply wanted me to die and did everything in your power, including magic, to accomplish your goals." His voice, cold before, suddenly heated. "How dare you? How dare you attempt to destroy me? You have no earthly idea who you are dealing with." He released Robert and allowed him to collapse back in the chair.

"Or otherworldly, for that matter," Cordelia added. Robert, able to move again, turned to face her. He was speechless again, this time from shock. She was glowing--and hovering about 6 inches off the floor.

He gaped.

He regained his powers of speech and stood. His legs were trembling, but he knew he needed to leave--now!

"I don't know what the hell you people are, but I'm leaving," he blustered.

He got two steps towards the door when the air around him became blistering hot. He felt an unseen hand grasp him by the shirt collar and bodily lift him back into the chair he'd just vacated. He began to shake uncontrollably.

"Thanks, Dennis," Cordelia called to thin air.

What in God's name had he gotten himself into?

"Do you see how it is?" Giles crossed his arms across his chest and looked down his nose at the terrified man. "You have no choices here. You are only allowed that which *we* allow you."

"You can't do this. You can't hold me against my will."

"Do you really want to test that theory?" Giles suppressed a wave of relief. This was going much more quickly than he'd originally planned. "You *will* tell me what I want to know."

"And if I don't?" Robert knew he'd just as good as confessed, but he also knew it didn't matter. Rupert and Cordelia had figured out what was going on, now he needed to know what was to become of him--and of those he cared for.

"I will make you hurt," Giles told him bluntly.

Robert blanched when Cordelia added her bit. "And if he doesn't, I will."

Robert looked at her and realized that trying to hurt the man she loved was probably the biggest mistakes he could have ever made.

He sighed.

"I'm working for the Watchers' Council," he said quietly.

For a moment, there was dead silence. Then Giles grabbed him by the shirtfront and hauled him to his feet again.

"What was that again?" He growled.

"I said, I work for the Watchers' Council." He felt himself hurled back into the chair. He was getting mightily tired of being used as a ping pong ball.

"Why? What do they want? Why do they want me dead?" Giles fired these questions in rapid succession.

"They didn't want you dead--they wanted you controllable."

"I work for the bloody bastards, what else do they want?" The Watcher ran a hand through his hair and began to pace.

"Come on, Rupert," Robert said. "You may draw a paycheck from them, but they haven't had any control over you since Buffy forced them to rehire you."

"Why the elaborate ruse?"

"Because there is a war going on in the Council."

"War?"

"Yes, there are two factions that are fighting for control of the Council, you, your Slayer and your wife."

"My wife? What the hell do they want with Cordelia?" Robert found himself hauled up to stand nose-to-nose with the angry Englishman once again. He shook him off and straightened his clothes with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Your wife, a Seer to a souled vampire, is a direct line to the Powers-that-be, and is married to one of the most successful Watchers in history. What makes you think they *wouldn't* be interested in her?"

Giles changed directions. "What do you get out of this? What did they promise you? Was the job at the museum a set up? Were you plotting to destroy me all along?" He couldn't believe he'd been such a bloody fool. He had actually thought he had found someone that appreciated what he had to offer.

"They didn't *promise* me anything. I didn't even know who the hell you were when I first offered you the job. You were just a man that was very good at what he did for a living." The man that was threatening everything Giles held dear looked at him. The bravado was suddenly stripped away and the Watcher could see raw anguish in his eyes. There was a plea to understand in the man's eyes. "I didn't have a choice, Rupert. You have to believe that."

"There is always a choice," Giles retorted.

"When they're holding your parents hostage?" Robert asked bluntly.

"What?"

"My parents didn't move to Florida. They were taken to England." He closed his eyes in anguish.

"How do you know that?"

"Because one of the men from the Council, a very powerful man, showed up at the museum one day about a month or so after you started working for me and told me he wanted me to spy on you." Robert flopped back down in his chair and leaned his head against the back in a gesture of great weariness. "I told him to go to hell. I don't spy for anyone, but most especially not on someone that I considered a friend." He tilted his head back up and looked at Giles. "He asked me how my parents were. I'm going to be honest, this man radiated power and that one question scared the shit of out me." He dropped his head back and closed his eyes as though the weight of his confession was too much to confront with his eyes opened. "Next thing I know, they've got my mom and dad shipped off to England and are telling me if I don't do what they want, my parents will suffer the consequences." He stood and paced to the window. He looked out for a moment at the darkening night and then turned suddenly. "What the hell would you have done?"

"I wouldn't have tried to murder someone," Cordelia spoke for the first time since this tirade had started.

"Cordelia," Giles admonished gently.

"What?" She spun to face her husband. "It's true. He could have come to you."

"And told him what? That my parents were being held by a group of men that aren't even supposed to exist? That I'm supposed to cast a damned *spell* on a man that I thought was just a really good antiquities appraiser?" His anger suddenly getting the best of him, Robert faced his accusers. "You tell me what I should have done. 'Cause I've gotta tell you. I was, and still am; terrified of what they're going to do to the people I love." He suddenly sank back into the chair, all energy suddenly gone. He dropped his head in his hands and tried very hard not to weep at what he'd just done. He could very well have sentenced his parents to death, because he had no doubt that the man that had come to see him would carry out every threat he'd made.

"Who was the man, Robert? What was it you said about two factions?"

"His name was William Wyndham-Pryce. I overheard him talking to someone on the phone one day. Apparently there are two schools of thought on how to handle you and your Slayer. Wyndham-Pryce controls the men favoring the brute force and intimidation school of thought."

"And the other faction?"

"It's lead by a man named Quinton Travers."

"Travers!" Cordelia spat the name out. "I suppose he wants to intimidate too."

"Actually, he thinks the Council should work with you. He says that he's come to realize that you must be doing something right and the Council should take advantage of your knowledge for future Slayers."

The shock on the couple's faces would have been comical in other circumstances, Robert decided. Right now, however, he was finding it hard to smile about anything. He squeezed his eyes shut again. God, what had he done?

"Besides, Travers has someone working for him." He dropped that bombshell almost as an afterthought."

"What?" Giles had to restrain himself from yelling.

"I said Travers has someone over here watching you for him."

"Who?"

Robert shook his head. "I don't know. All I know is it's someone sympathetic to you and who knows who and what you are." He looked at Giles and Cordelia. "What both of you are."

Cordelia sat down heavily on the sofa. She was very grateful when she saw a glass of tea floating towards her. "Thanks, Dennis. I think I could use this." She took a sip and tried to digest everything Robert had told them. If he was telling the truth, they had a lot to worry about. And they didn't even know all the players yet. She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand and tried to concentrate. The demon side of her was boiling to get out. It fed on high emotions and she was feeling a ton of those right now. She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax.

The phone rang.

"I'll get it," she said as she headed to Giles office. She picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey sweet cheeks," Lorne's voice sounded way too cheerful for her today.

"Hey, Lorne," she halfheartedly greeted him.

"What's the matter? Something wrong with good-looking?" Lorne knew that Giles had been sick.

"You could say that," she muttered.

"Cordelia?" The anagogic demon was picking up some very bad vibes and he didn't even need to hear her sing.

"I'll tell you about it later." Cordelia waved aside his concerns. "What did you need?"

"My demon obstetrician got back to me today. Finally," he mumbled under his breath.

"And?" She desperately needed something to be settled today.

"He said maybe next time."

Her breath caught halfway between a sigh of relief and a sob of disappointment. She didn't why she would feel disappointed. It wasn't like they *needed* to bring a child into this mess they were in right now. But, oh how she'd wanted a piece of Giles to live inside her. Which was stupid, she thought as she swiped at a stray tear trickling down her cheek, she had him. She pushed down the disappointment.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Cordelia, are you all right?" Lorne asked again. "Is something wrong?"

"I promise, I'll tell you later." She hung up the phone. She needed to concentrate on one thing at a time and right now, that one thing was the Council trying to kill her husband. She took a deep breath and went out to join her husband.

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