Disclaimers and story info located at Chapters 1 and 4.
Wesley sat in the waiting room, listening to Dawn's gentle snoring and wondering what was going on down the hall between the slayers. Forgiveness was tricky, he knew all too well, but Faith seemed to have a lock on it. Hell, she'd sadistically tortured him for hours, yet he'd asked after the girl following each of Angel's visits. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her that there were failings on both parts. Still had the newspaper clippings regarding Professor Worth's murder stowed away in a shoebox. Later articles reporting Faith's activities in Sunnydale and Los Angeles had been added. Wesley hadn't lifted that lid in well over a year, but kept the box in his bottom dresser drawer beneath his jeans, a nearly daily reminder of the damage he'd caused. There'd been a small write-up the day after he was found bleeding into the grass. He'd thought about adding it, seemed fitting, but he'd never done so. Wondered why.
Wesley was shaking his head, marveling at his knack for self-flagellation, when Buffy appeared at the end of the hall. Her gait was a bit unsteady, fingertips touching the wall with each step, as if she struggled for balance. He got to his feet and their eyes met, hers rimmed in red and heavy with unshed tears.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah," she said, clearing her throat as she sat down next to her sister, "it's just an emotional day."
"I understand."
"Buffy?" Came Dawn's groggy voice, "What time is it?"
The slayer smiled and reached out to smooth her sister's hair. "Hey, sleepyhead. It's about time for us to take Baby Summers home." Wesley looked on and felt a guilty twinge of envy at the hug the girls shared, then took a few steps away, leaned against the wall, and stretched out his back.
"So you saw her?" asked Dawn excitedly.
The slayer nodded.
"And? What's she look like?"
"Like... a baby?"
"Seriously. Your powers of observation astound me."
"She's... tiny. She's got little feet and little hands. Hell of a grip. Has slayer potential."
Wesley looked on with unabashed curiosity at the transformation that was taking place before his eyes. Buffy's entire demeanor was changing: she sat up straighter, dropped and relaxed her shoulders, and widened her eyes. Her voice took on a tone of near reverence, and her eyes crinkled in the corners, like individual smiles.
"She's all wrinkly and pink with a little bit of brown hair. She's beautiful."
"And she's okay? I mean, she's healthy?"
"She's perfect. But there's a neonatal nurse who's going to come with us, help out for a bit."
"How's Faith?" Wesley asked.
Buffy looked up, a bit surprised, as if she'd forgotten he existed. He knew the feeling.
"Depressed and weepy. I wasn't in there for too long; she asked me to leave."
"I can't imagine how difficult this day must be for her."
"Yeah. I just, I don't know, got a weird vibe."
"Meaning?"
"She said she couldn't sleep, and she seemed kind of spacey. It's probably all the meds, but... You're staying, right?"
"Of course."
"Just watch her, will you? Not just, you know, but-"
"Understood."
Buffy got to her feet and wiped the corners of her eyes. "Okay. You ready?"
Dawn stood and nodded, grinning wildly. "Yeah. You gonna come meet her, Wesley?"
"Think I'll pass. I'm not good with babies."
"Sure?"
Wesley nodded and returned to his garish orange chair.
"Keep me posted." Buffy said before she and Dawn turned to walk down the hall.
"You too." He called after them. The slayer looked over her shoulder, mouthing the words "thank you" before disappearing around the corner.
TBC
Wesley sat in the waiting room, listening to Dawn's gentle snoring and wondering what was going on down the hall between the slayers. Forgiveness was tricky, he knew all too well, but Faith seemed to have a lock on it. Hell, she'd sadistically tortured him for hours, yet he'd asked after the girl following each of Angel's visits. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her that there were failings on both parts. Still had the newspaper clippings regarding Professor Worth's murder stowed away in a shoebox. Later articles reporting Faith's activities in Sunnydale and Los Angeles had been added. Wesley hadn't lifted that lid in well over a year, but kept the box in his bottom dresser drawer beneath his jeans, a nearly daily reminder of the damage he'd caused. There'd been a small write-up the day after he was found bleeding into the grass. He'd thought about adding it, seemed fitting, but he'd never done so. Wondered why.
Wesley was shaking his head, marveling at his knack for self-flagellation, when Buffy appeared at the end of the hall. Her gait was a bit unsteady, fingertips touching the wall with each step, as if she struggled for balance. He got to his feet and their eyes met, hers rimmed in red and heavy with unshed tears.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah," she said, clearing her throat as she sat down next to her sister, "it's just an emotional day."
"I understand."
"Buffy?" Came Dawn's groggy voice, "What time is it?"
The slayer smiled and reached out to smooth her sister's hair. "Hey, sleepyhead. It's about time for us to take Baby Summers home." Wesley looked on and felt a guilty twinge of envy at the hug the girls shared, then took a few steps away, leaned against the wall, and stretched out his back.
"So you saw her?" asked Dawn excitedly.
The slayer nodded.
"And? What's she look like?"
"Like... a baby?"
"Seriously. Your powers of observation astound me."
"She's... tiny. She's got little feet and little hands. Hell of a grip. Has slayer potential."
Wesley looked on with unabashed curiosity at the transformation that was taking place before his eyes. Buffy's entire demeanor was changing: she sat up straighter, dropped and relaxed her shoulders, and widened her eyes. Her voice took on a tone of near reverence, and her eyes crinkled in the corners, like individual smiles.
"She's all wrinkly and pink with a little bit of brown hair. She's beautiful."
"And she's okay? I mean, she's healthy?"
"She's perfect. But there's a neonatal nurse who's going to come with us, help out for a bit."
"How's Faith?" Wesley asked.
Buffy looked up, a bit surprised, as if she'd forgotten he existed. He knew the feeling.
"Depressed and weepy. I wasn't in there for too long; she asked me to leave."
"I can't imagine how difficult this day must be for her."
"Yeah. I just, I don't know, got a weird vibe."
"Meaning?"
"She said she couldn't sleep, and she seemed kind of spacey. It's probably all the meds, but... You're staying, right?"
"Of course."
"Just watch her, will you? Not just, you know, but-"
"Understood."
Buffy got to her feet and wiped the corners of her eyes. "Okay. You ready?"
Dawn stood and nodded, grinning wildly. "Yeah. You gonna come meet her, Wesley?"
"Think I'll pass. I'm not good with babies."
"Sure?"
Wesley nodded and returned to his garish orange chair.
"Keep me posted." Buffy said before she and Dawn turned to walk down the hall.
"You too." He called after them. The slayer looked over her shoulder, mouthing the words "thank you" before disappearing around the corner.
TBC