Seeing with a Father's Love
By Teri
Chapter 4: Dreams of Joyce
"See Giles, that is the problem. I AM Hank Summers."
"I noticed that you look like him, but why?
"Not like him - like me. I am Henry Alexander Summers born April 18, 1954."
Giles looked up at him shell-shocked. He really wanted to polish is glasses, but couldn't even get the right synapses to fire to get the job done. The whole world had gone crazy in less than an hour. "You, Xander, are the same person I met in the Sunnydale Highschool library 8-9 years ago. Correct?"
"Yes."
"But, you are Hank Summers, ex-husband of Joyce, father of Buffy and Dawn?"
"Yes." Then he sort of hemmed and hawed a bit. "Well, sort of. I mean you and I know that Dawn is actually Buffy's daughter - biologically - although I love her as my own and there was no way anyone would ever convince Joyce that Dawn belonged to anyone, but us. And, well, who am I to question Joyce Summers?" He smiled as he said Joyce's name. "No one that's who. Joyce and I only divorced legally, for show, we never actually intended not to be married so that negates the 'ex' part, but I can answer to a definite 'yes' for father of Buffy."
"I need to sit down."
"You are sitting down."
"Oh, then perhaps I need to stand-up."
"I'll get you some tea. We have a hotwater dispenser in the kitchen nook. I'll go get some."
"No," Giles nearly shouted. "I mean, no thank you, but I would prefer not to let you out of my sight just yet."
Xander smiled. "Anything you say G-man."
"How many times have I . . . " Giles began to answer from rote before realizing who he was with and what they were discussing. He looked up at the man he was speaking to. "You really are Xander, aren't you?"
"I thought we established that." He paused for a moment. "In all the ways that matter, I am Xander."
"How about WE walk down and get that tea and YOU explain to me how come you are Buffy's father."
"Giles, Giles, Giles, I thought surely you already knew about the birds and the bees. I mean now that you know I am older than you are - by only a year mind you - I hope you don't expect ME to explain it to you. Besides, I thought Olivia was a sure sign that you knew about birds anyway." He finished the sentence trying to affect a phony British accent when he said "birds."
"Alright, now that you have alleviated any remaining doubt I had that you are the same Xander Harris I've known with that lame joke, how about you explain how you are Xander and Hank."
"Lame?" He smiled a look of accomplishment on his face. "We finally corrupted you with our broken English. I can't tell you what this means to me." Xander finished by wiping a phony tear off of his face.
"Xander," Giles almost growled. "The story if you please."
"Calm down Ripper, I'm getting to it." He considered for a moment how to begin. "Picture it. California, 1980."
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry to many Golden Girls reruns - Lifetime television and way too much time to kill - a widower's downfall. Anyway, you want to hear this or not? The year was 1980, Joyce and I had been married a few years . . . "
"You and Joyce? Married?" Giles asked as an odd look came over him.
"Yeah, me and Joyce - married - parents of Buffy." Xander looked at Giles with confusion. "You know that's how it generally works."
"But you . . . and she . . . and you never . . . . ah, never wanted to be divorced . . . but she . . . and me . . . "
Xander started to realize the problem. "Don't worry about it Giles. Sure I wanted to knock your lights out at the time, and for a while after that, well a long while after that, actually a really long time after that, but I understand that you both were under the influence of magic. Joyce and I made our peace, I understood, we got past it, so forget it." Then he muttered with disgust, "I know I have tried to forget it. You and my wife . . . with handcuffs."
"Right, ah, you were, ah, saying?"
Xander looked at Giles a moment before continuing his story.
"Right, so we were married for a few years and I started having odd dreams, dreams about a Magyar peasant girl, an Indian Princess, a Virginia slave, a medieval tavern girl. They were all the same. The girls in the dreams were always fighting or being killed by vampires. Mixed in with these there were dreams of a young blonde girl. I saw her die at the hands of a vampire surrounded by stored parade floats. I saw her die in an underground cave. I saw her eaten by a giant snake. I saw her pulled down a storm drain. I saw her killed in a hospital room. I saw her collapse from illness in a cemetery only to be killed by a vampire. I saw her killed by a Frankenstein-like monster. I saw her killed by a teenage girl. I saw the same young woman die in countless ways. I thought I was going crazy. You have to understand, the only vamps I knew of were the ones on the tube when I was watching 'Dark Shadows' or some midnight movie like 'Love at First Bite.' Yet, they were in my dreams every night . . . "
"NOOOOOO!"
"Hank?" Joyce rolled over to look at her husband. "Hank?" She reached over and placed her hand on his shoulder hoping to wake him. He was apparently having another nightmare. Although no surprise there, it would only be the eleventh one this week and only the fourth tonight.
Hank heard Joyce's soft voice and found his way out of his nightmare and opened his eyes. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about, but I am worried about you. You have been doing this every night for about six weeks. That's not normal, even with your gift." She smiled at him and stroked his hair a few times as he moved to rest his head on her stomach. "I have an appointment to see our doctor about this indigestion or stomach flu or whatever I picked up, why don't you come with me and see if the Doctor will see you instead?"
"Joyce, I don't think it will help. Besides, you need to get better. You have been sick everyday for two weeks now and that isn't normal and I know keeping you up all night with my nightmares hasn't helped. You need the doctor. I promise if I don't figure it out soon I will go, okay?"
"Okay," She smiled at him. It was more than she had gotten him to agree to before. "What did you see this time?"
"The blonde girl was floating face down in a pool of water as the ugly- mudsucker called the 'master' stood over her talking about destiny and fulfilling an ancient prophesy. At the same time, tall, dark, and broody was sitting in an apartment and muttering 'there's no way to help.' The tweed man was in the library wringing his hands, worried, but not doing anything productive. They both knew where she was though. Tweed man had tried to stop her from going, but . . . "
"But she still died." Joyce finished for him. It was how all his dreams ended now and it worried her no end.
He only nodded as he closed his eyes, exhausted.
Joyce continued to stroke his hair as he fell asleep. She smiled for a moment and hoped her news, if the doctor confirmed what she suspected, would given him something to look forward to.
Giles just watched as Xander recalled how Joyce would comfort him after his nightmares. It was clear to the watcher how much Xander must have loved his wife. What was most surprising was somehow thinking of Joyce as Xander's wife didn't seem so hard to believe, not after listening to him talk about her. It was if it was the most natural assumption in the world to make.
Xander's eyes showed that he was far away and Giles hated to interrupt his memories, but he wanted to hear the rest of the story. So he cleared his throat.
"Sorry," Xander smiled sheepishly. In that smile Giles could truly see Xander and any remaining doubts he had were put to rest.
"Let me get this straight. You had visions of Lothos, the Master, the Mayor, Angelus, Adam, Faith, and others?"
"Bingo."
"Do you know why you were having these dreams?"
"I do," he smiled. "It had to do with a little secret Joyce hadn't shared with me yet."
"I remember getting home from work that night. It wasn't long after tax season, one of the busiest times of the year for a CPA." Xander stopped and looked at Giles. "I was a CPA - Certified Public Account. Did you know that?"
Giles shook his head remembering all the times Xander sat in the library complaining about his math homework. Realizing more and more how much he needed to relearn about his friend.
"I was." He smiled. "Anyway, I walked in the door and saw the whole front room was lit by candlelight. I walked into the dining room and there she was sitting at the table which was decked out with all my favorite foods and her best china and linens. Still she was the prettiest thing in the room. . . ."
"Welcome Home!" Joyce smiled as she stood.
"What's all this for?" Hank asked as he took in the room.
"Can't I surprise my husband?" Joyce met him in the middle of the room. Their arms quickly embraced each other as the couple shared a welcome home kiss.
Hank's eyes twinkled mischievously. "You didn't wreck the car did you?"
"No."
"Hmmm, trying to convince me to take that backpacking tour of China again?"
"No."
"Well, then am I to take it that you are trying to seduce me Mrs. Summers?"
She simply smiled at him and motioned for him to sit down on the couch. He complied and she sat next to him taking his hand into her own.
"Oh, I get it. You want us to try to make a baby tonight." He smiled as he leaned across her and began to kiss her as he worked on the straps of evening dress.
Joyce pulled away for a moment, her eyes twinkling. "We don't need to try, not that we can't keep practicing for the next time."
Hank's brain, like most men, dealt better with direct statements rather than subtlety, somehow he misunderstood. He pulled away looking hurt. "You don't want to keep trying to have a baby? Is something wrong? Is it me?"
She almost wanted to laugh at him as she took his hand and placed it over her stomach. "I want your baby, more than anything. I am trying to tell you that we don't need to go make a baby because I am already pregnant, Daddy."
"Daddy?" He looked at her with the silliest grin on his face. "Daddy? Me?"
"No, the plumber. Yes, you." She laughed at him.
"Daddy." He looked happily dazed. "Daddy." He focused on Joyce. "Oh Joyce, I love you so much. Thank you."
After a few minutes of Hank just sitting there staring at her. She couldn't resist anymore. "Hank, darling, are you just going to stare at me all night?" She smiled at him indulgently.
To Hank, Joyce was practically glowing. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it when he walked in.
"Hank?"
"Pardon the way that I stare." He began to sing softly as he stood. "There's nothing else to compare." He held his hand out to her, an invitation to dance. "You're just too good to be true." She stood. "Can't take my eyes off of you." He wrapped his arms around her. "You'd be like heaven to touch. I want to hold you so much. And I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true."
I am so glad that most of you are enjoying this story so far. I am really proud of the scenes with Joyce and I hope you enjoyed them as well. Teri
