Chapter 10 - Home Again
Wesley wrote countless letters. Each one received a reply in Fred's beautiful handwriting. They were pages long. And they all smelled like her. Fred wrote about the birthday party and how much fun it had been to watch Connor eat his first piece of birthday cake. She told him of the budding romance between Angel and Cordelia, which Wesley had noticed a long time ago. She told him of many insignificant things, but most of all, she told him how much she loved him. Of how she thought of him everyday and dreamt of him every night.
Wesley sighed at the thought of her. He stared at the one photo of them all, taken shortly after Connor's birth. Angel was a little uneasy looking, probably worried about Connor. Wesley was grinning, his arm around Fred. Fred was leaning towards him, her bright smile matching his. Cordelia was on the other side directing everyone to smile through her tightly clenched teeth. Wesley laughed, remembering that day.
He'd begged Fred for more pictures of her. He argued that his mother was anxious to meet her and that she was sure they'd make an excellent pair. Fred wouldn't send pictures, claiming to be camera shy. He knew she had been before and clearly understood. Being away from her for six months was hard for him. He'd met other girls in London, a few that he'd known prior to leaving for Sunnydale. They seemed interested in Wesley's new badass attitude, but the feelings weren't mutual.
Wes leaned back and placed the picture on the table beside him. He opened a new book and sighed.
"Wesley, dear?" A woman's voice asked.
"Yes, mum?" He didn't look up.
"I'd like to speak with you for a moment if I may." The owner of the voice walked into the room. She was a woman in her late sixties with a bit of bite left in her yet. She grinned at him as he closed the book. "Thank you. I've been meaning to speak to you about this." She sat down on the sofa next to him.
"Anytime, Mother." He propped a pillow against her weak arm.
She sighed and smiled, placing a hand on the side of his face. It was cold, but only from bad circulation.
He returned the smile and patted her hand as she retracted it.
"Wesley," she said, "I know how much you love this woman. I know she means a lot to you."
He nodded.
"I want you to go back to your Los Angeles and tell her that. Letters aren't enough."
He blinked. "Truly? I mean, you'll allow me to go back to Los Angeles? I don't want to leave you here all alone..."
"Don't worry about this old woman. She'll be fine." She grinned. "You of all people should know that."
He laughed. "Yes, you have been taking care of me."
"Also," she took a deep breath and let it out, "I didn't tell you, but your father left something to you in his will. At my own suggestion."
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
She nodded. "But first you must know the story behind it. Are you willing to listen?"
He returned the nod and got comfortable.
"A long time ago, there was a young man named Jeffery Wyndham-Price. He lived in London during the early nineteen hundreds. He was a successful young man, destined to be a Watcher."
Wesley cringed, but the woman continued.
"He attended the academy and passed with flying colors, but there was just something missing for him. He was nearing his eighteenth birthday and he was obsessed with the idea of finding true love. On his birthday, he was assigned a slayer by the name of Elizabeth. She was beautiful and strong and very clever. He immediately fell in love with her. She was his one true love in life. Even though it was not allowed, Jeffery and Elizabeth wed. Jeffery was fired by the council and took up a job in a bookshop." She paused for a minute.
"Fired?" Wesley asked. This story was all too familiar.
She nodded with a smile. "Yes, fired. He loved Elizabeth so much that he was willing to sacrifice everything for her. Everything in the world. He gave her a ring on their first wedding anniversary. It was beautiful. It held a large diamond in the center, two smaller sapphires on each side, then followed by two smaller diamonds. She loved the ring so much that she never wanted to part with it. Soon after their first child, Nigel Wyndham-Price, was born, Elizabeth was killed by a demon by the name of Hannahan. Her dying words were for Nigel to have the ring, then his son, and so on. It should only be passed on to one's true love. Nigel, your father, gave it to me. Now, Wesley, the ring is for you to give to your Winifred."
She pulled a small violet box from her pocket and handed it to him. He flicked the latch and revealed the ring. He smiled. "She'll love it, Mother. She will."
Mary Wyndham-Price laughed. "I know she will. And if you look closely, you can see the dark blue eyes of Elizabeth herself." She smiled and stood up, kissing his forehead. "You're all packed. Go. Surprise her."
Wesley raised an eyebrow. "You packed me?"
She nodded. "Go."
* * *
The sun in Los Angeles is hazy during the long May summers, but it is still hot. Wesley watched the sun set from the back of a slow-moving cab, fidgeting slightly. The Cabbie was foreign, as usual, and didn't understand what he meant by "ASAP." He sighed and leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes.
"Hyperion Hotel." The Cabbie announced. He asked for the fare in choppy English, which Wesley gladly paid as he climbed out and took his bags towards the entrance. He peered in through a window at the lobby. He couldn't see anyone but Gunn, who stood near his office. He watched as the tall man nodded and headed towards the basement stairs. Someone was in his office. Wesley checked around a little more and walked in, dropping his bags behind a pillar. He snuck quietly towards the office and peeked in.
Fred ran a hand through her forever-long brown curly hair. She sighed and scrawled ever-so-neatly onto a piece of paper, checking a book every few seconds, as if translating. He smiled and tiptoed into the office, seeing how long it would take for her to notice.
"Charles, I thought you --" Her eyes grew wide. "Wesley!" She looked frightened.
He nodded and stepped towards her, closing the door behind him. "Shh, Love." He leaned down and kissed her as she sat behind the desk. "I see you've taken a liking to my desk. He grinned.
"I...yes." She smiled and cleared her throat. "You weren't using it, so I thought I would."
"Doesn't matter to me." He stood and walked to look out the windows of the office. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you, Fred. I mean, being in London, it was so lonely. Just my mother and I...that's something I've never had to live with, and being here with you --" He stopped as soon as he turned around.
Fred was standing, one hand on her bulging stomach.
"You...you're..." He whispered.
She nodded. "We've got to talk."
Wesley wrote countless letters. Each one received a reply in Fred's beautiful handwriting. They were pages long. And they all smelled like her. Fred wrote about the birthday party and how much fun it had been to watch Connor eat his first piece of birthday cake. She told him of the budding romance between Angel and Cordelia, which Wesley had noticed a long time ago. She told him of many insignificant things, but most of all, she told him how much she loved him. Of how she thought of him everyday and dreamt of him every night.
Wesley sighed at the thought of her. He stared at the one photo of them all, taken shortly after Connor's birth. Angel was a little uneasy looking, probably worried about Connor. Wesley was grinning, his arm around Fred. Fred was leaning towards him, her bright smile matching his. Cordelia was on the other side directing everyone to smile through her tightly clenched teeth. Wesley laughed, remembering that day.
He'd begged Fred for more pictures of her. He argued that his mother was anxious to meet her and that she was sure they'd make an excellent pair. Fred wouldn't send pictures, claiming to be camera shy. He knew she had been before and clearly understood. Being away from her for six months was hard for him. He'd met other girls in London, a few that he'd known prior to leaving for Sunnydale. They seemed interested in Wesley's new badass attitude, but the feelings weren't mutual.
Wes leaned back and placed the picture on the table beside him. He opened a new book and sighed.
"Wesley, dear?" A woman's voice asked.
"Yes, mum?" He didn't look up.
"I'd like to speak with you for a moment if I may." The owner of the voice walked into the room. She was a woman in her late sixties with a bit of bite left in her yet. She grinned at him as he closed the book. "Thank you. I've been meaning to speak to you about this." She sat down on the sofa next to him.
"Anytime, Mother." He propped a pillow against her weak arm.
She sighed and smiled, placing a hand on the side of his face. It was cold, but only from bad circulation.
He returned the smile and patted her hand as she retracted it.
"Wesley," she said, "I know how much you love this woman. I know she means a lot to you."
He nodded.
"I want you to go back to your Los Angeles and tell her that. Letters aren't enough."
He blinked. "Truly? I mean, you'll allow me to go back to Los Angeles? I don't want to leave you here all alone..."
"Don't worry about this old woman. She'll be fine." She grinned. "You of all people should know that."
He laughed. "Yes, you have been taking care of me."
"Also," she took a deep breath and let it out, "I didn't tell you, but your father left something to you in his will. At my own suggestion."
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
She nodded. "But first you must know the story behind it. Are you willing to listen?"
He returned the nod and got comfortable.
"A long time ago, there was a young man named Jeffery Wyndham-Price. He lived in London during the early nineteen hundreds. He was a successful young man, destined to be a Watcher."
Wesley cringed, but the woman continued.
"He attended the academy and passed with flying colors, but there was just something missing for him. He was nearing his eighteenth birthday and he was obsessed with the idea of finding true love. On his birthday, he was assigned a slayer by the name of Elizabeth. She was beautiful and strong and very clever. He immediately fell in love with her. She was his one true love in life. Even though it was not allowed, Jeffery and Elizabeth wed. Jeffery was fired by the council and took up a job in a bookshop." She paused for a minute.
"Fired?" Wesley asked. This story was all too familiar.
She nodded with a smile. "Yes, fired. He loved Elizabeth so much that he was willing to sacrifice everything for her. Everything in the world. He gave her a ring on their first wedding anniversary. It was beautiful. It held a large diamond in the center, two smaller sapphires on each side, then followed by two smaller diamonds. She loved the ring so much that she never wanted to part with it. Soon after their first child, Nigel Wyndham-Price, was born, Elizabeth was killed by a demon by the name of Hannahan. Her dying words were for Nigel to have the ring, then his son, and so on. It should only be passed on to one's true love. Nigel, your father, gave it to me. Now, Wesley, the ring is for you to give to your Winifred."
She pulled a small violet box from her pocket and handed it to him. He flicked the latch and revealed the ring. He smiled. "She'll love it, Mother. She will."
Mary Wyndham-Price laughed. "I know she will. And if you look closely, you can see the dark blue eyes of Elizabeth herself." She smiled and stood up, kissing his forehead. "You're all packed. Go. Surprise her."
Wesley raised an eyebrow. "You packed me?"
She nodded. "Go."
* * *
The sun in Los Angeles is hazy during the long May summers, but it is still hot. Wesley watched the sun set from the back of a slow-moving cab, fidgeting slightly. The Cabbie was foreign, as usual, and didn't understand what he meant by "ASAP." He sighed and leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes.
"Hyperion Hotel." The Cabbie announced. He asked for the fare in choppy English, which Wesley gladly paid as he climbed out and took his bags towards the entrance. He peered in through a window at the lobby. He couldn't see anyone but Gunn, who stood near his office. He watched as the tall man nodded and headed towards the basement stairs. Someone was in his office. Wesley checked around a little more and walked in, dropping his bags behind a pillar. He snuck quietly towards the office and peeked in.
Fred ran a hand through her forever-long brown curly hair. She sighed and scrawled ever-so-neatly onto a piece of paper, checking a book every few seconds, as if translating. He smiled and tiptoed into the office, seeing how long it would take for her to notice.
"Charles, I thought you --" Her eyes grew wide. "Wesley!" She looked frightened.
He nodded and stepped towards her, closing the door behind him. "Shh, Love." He leaned down and kissed her as she sat behind the desk. "I see you've taken a liking to my desk. He grinned.
"I...yes." She smiled and cleared her throat. "You weren't using it, so I thought I would."
"Doesn't matter to me." He stood and walked to look out the windows of the office. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you, Fred. I mean, being in London, it was so lonely. Just my mother and I...that's something I've never had to live with, and being here with you --" He stopped as soon as he turned around.
Fred was standing, one hand on her bulging stomach.
"You...you're..." He whispered.
She nodded. "We've got to talk."