Title: Slayer Central chapter 3
Author: Gileswench
Contact: gileswench@yahoo.com
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. Praise abjectly sought.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc., etc., etc. I just let them have all the fun Joss won't. I own nothing except my twisted mind which you really don't want. Please don't sue.



"Brain tumor? But they can operate, right? She'll be okay?"

"They haven't determined whether it's operable yet. We'll know that soon, though."

"How soon is soon?"

"A day or two, and even if they can't remove it surgically, there are other treatments. There is hope, Buffy. We will see to it that your mother gets the best possible care."

Giles wrapped Buffy in his arms. She trembled, but refused to break down. Suddenly she wriggled back and looked at him with large, hopeful eyes.

"Maybe there's a spell. A healing spell of some kind? Maybe Willow or Tara could cast it. We could make her better, right?"

Wesley joined the pair.

"Buffy, a healing spell is a terribly tricky thing. It might make things a deal worse than they already are."

"How? Tell me, Wes, how much worse can it be? My mother has something growing in her head that might kill her."

"Buffy, luv, listen to Wesley," Giles told her. "He's right. The - the mystical and the medical were never meant to mix. One wrong word and...well, I hardly like to think what might happen. Don't you think if a spell could have helped the night you went after Parker that I would have used it? I didn't try because the possible consequences to you and the baby were beyond imagining."

"So you're telling me there's nothing we can do? 'Cause I don't buy that. There has to be something, anything, that we can do to stop this thing."

"Listen to me, Buffy. There is a great deal that can be done, but we are not the ones who can do it. The medical staff at Sunnydale Memorial is excellent, and they will do the best job they can for your mother. All we can do is wait and pray that all goes well."

He pulled her close and kissed her temple as he rubbed her back comfortingly. His eyes were as troubled as hers.

*****

Wesley had left the pair so quietly that neither noticed his retreat up the stairs. He'd seen Crystal go there as soon as she'd gotten in the door, and felt he should see to her needs.

The girl sat huddled on the couch, looking terribly small and lost. He sat next to her.

"Is there anything you need? Anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head.

"I know you and Mrs. Summers are close. This must be difficult for you. If you'd like to talk, I'll be happy to listen."

After another silent moment, Crystal shifted uncomfortably.

"Are you all right? Is it your back?"

"Yeah. It kinda hurts lately."

"That's not uncommon in pregnancy. Would you like a backrub? I've been told I'm quite good at them, and I promise that I'm only offering because I think it might make you more comfortable."

"You have a girlfriend, right?"

"Frankly, I'm not sure, but if it's any comfort to you, I'm not in the market for one. Your virtue is safe with me."

"Okay. It really does hurt."

She turned to face away and Wesley began to knead her aching muscles low across her back. His hands were stronger than she'd expected, and seemed to know the precise pressure to apply in order to ease the pain from her body. Hank had tried to do this for her once but he had no skill at the art of massage. Nobody had even offered since. Crystal felt the tension ooze out of her. Her eyelids drooped and she rested her head on the arm of the couch.

When he felt her breathing become rhythmic, Wesley took the afghan from the back of the sofa and covered the sleeping girl with it.

He crept back down the stairs.

*****

Angel barely looked up from his sketchpad when the door opened.

"Cordelia. What can I do for you."

She held out one perfectly manicured hand, palm up.

"You can give me your car keys. I need to go back to LA."

The vampire's eyes returned to his drawing.

"Not a chance. We all have to stay here. Whatever this is with you and Wesley, work it out. Nobody quits now."

"Who said anything about quitting? I need to go get my things. Not to mention, Dennis thought I was only going to be gone a few days or so. I have to explain it to him. And, hopefully, sublet my place so it'll still be there if and when."

"You can get new stuff here."

"And what about my place? And Dennis?"

Angel looked at her, a frown on his brow.

"Dennis is dead."

"Yeah, well, so are you and I still talk to you, though sometimes I don't know why I bother. And what's with the Rembrandt?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The sketchpad. What are you drawing?"

"Nothing." He quickly tried to stash it behind him.

Cordelia grabbed it and began to flip through the pages.

"Y'know, Cordelia, that's personal. You really shouldn't..."

She raised one eyebrow at him as she returned the pad.

"Obsessed much? Get over it, Romeo, Juliet married someone else."

"That's great advice coming from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You and Wes aren't working here; you're haunting each other. You want to be together, but you're both too damn stubborn to do anything about it. And meanwhile, Giles and I have to organize everything so you two never have to be in the same room. If Giles can work with me, you can work with Wesley."

"Are you giving me the car keys or not?"

Angel began to sketch again.

"Call Gunn. He can send your things and talk to Dennis for you. Maybe you can even sublet to him, I don't know, but you're not leaving Sunnydale and that's final."

"You know, you're not the boss of me...okay, maybe you are. But that doesn't mean I can't take a vacation day to pack."

"You can't use my car. And I know for a fact Giles will never let you near his."

"Like I'd drive that Losermobile, anyway. Fine, I'll rent a car if I have to."

"Cordelia." Angel hadn't raised his voice, but the tone was sharp enough to give the girl pause. "I will call Gunn and ask him to pack some things for you and deal with the arrangements about your apartment. We're moving tomorrow and you're needed here. That's final. Talk to Wesley. Fix your relationship or break up with him once and for all, I don't care which. This thing between you two puts Buffy in danger and I won't allow that. Got it? Good."

He returned to his drawing without waiting for an answer.

After a moment, Cordelia set her mouth in a firm line and left, slamming the door shut behind her.

*****

By the time Wesley returned to the living room, Buffy was asleep, Giles stroking her hair as if he could soothe even her dreams. Wesley didn't wish to disturb such an intimate moment, but felt he ought to say something.

"Crystal is asleep, too."

Giles immediately rose and put his hands in his pockets as he moved to the other man.

"How is she?"

"Terribly upset. She's taking the news no better than Buffy is."

"She's rather latched onto Joyce as a mother figure, it seems. And then Joyce told her about the vampires and such. Now Crystal won't trust any of us because she doesn't believe it."

"We'll need to prove it to her."

"Yes, but I doubt she'll believe simple words and I'm reluctant to have Angel give her a demonstration in her present condition."

"I wonder if we could perhaps come up with a less...startling form of proof."

Giles whipped off his glasses.

"Perhaps we could have Willow perform a spell of some sort."

"Has anyone made an effort to find Mr. Summers?"

"No. In fact, she hardly mentions him, and I've no desire to see the man in the near future myself. A man who could run out on his wife while she's carrying his child..." Giles took a deep breath. "Well, it isn't the act of a gentleman. I would gladly kick him for what he's done to Buffy and Crystal, not to mention Joyce."

Wesley looked at the floor.

"Then I suppose a locator spell to find him is not a good idea. Look, I should be on my way back to the hotel now. I'll be back in the morning to help with the last of the packing"

"Of course. Thank you, Wesley, for staying with Buffy today. And for helping with Crystal."

"It was my pleasure."

When Wesley was gone, Giles returned to the bed. He didn't wish to disturb Crystal by going upstairs and rummaging through drawers for his pajamas, so he stripped to his boxers and nestled next to his wife.

"Finally" she murmured in a sleepy voice.

"Finally what, luv?"

"Don't get me wrong; Wes is one of the good guys, but I thought he'd never leave. I just wanted you to myself."

"Go to sleep, luv. We've a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

He kissed her gently and wrapped his arms around her.


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