Disclaimer: We all know the truth. None of these characters are mine, and if I were making money off of them, I could quit my job and go write on a beach somewhere.
Summary: A sequel to my short story, Summer Vacation. After the events of Forgiving, Wesley decides to take action after losing Connor, and finds something he never expected.
“Rise to the rhythm, rise to the call/Come face the music, or be nowhere at all/Go down to the river, no need to fear/Your trials can be over, there are no judges here/There are no judges here./Somewhere east of Eden/Let there be no doubt/No flaming swords of cherubim/To keep you out…Come on back to Camptown/Celebrate the news/No need for a clamp-down/Once you've paid your dues.” ~Kim Richey, “No Judges”
“I wondered where you’d gone.”
Wesley stood on the back porch, hands in his pockets, and wished he’d found a better hiding place. “Just thought I’d get a breath of fresh air.”
“We’re staying in a hotel tonight,” Cordelia informed him. “Well, Angel is staying here, but Buffy doesn’t have room for all of us.”
He nodded. “It makes sense.”
Cordelia came to stand next to him. “He said you’re staying.”
“For now.” Wesley glanced down at her and smiled wryly. “Perhaps I’ll travel as a rogue demon hunter for a while again.”
Her dark eyes were sad. “Wes—”
“You didn’t come to see me once you got back in town,” he observed in a low voice.
Cordy sighed. “Angel needed me.” She hesitated. “If I had been there when you found the prophecy—would you have told me?”
Wesley wanted to give her an honest answer, and he wanted to think clearly about those awful days leading up to that fateful decision. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I think I might have.”
She laid a hand on his arm but didn’t reply, and Wesley knew they’d said all there was to say. Her first priority had been Angel, and they would never know what might have happened if she hadn’t gone on vacation with Groo. When Cordelia turned to go back inside, she paused to look back at him. “You’ll keep in touch?”
“Of course.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Wesley wouldn’t avoid contact, and he would want to know how Connor was doing in the future.
Her expression indicated that she didn’t quite believe him, but all she said was, “Let me know when you get a permanent address, huh?”
He watched her go inside, then turned back to his contemplation of the darkness, thinking that with as many endings as he was facing now, things still looked considerably brighter.
~~~~~
The house was entirely too full. Buffy had come to realize how nice it was with just her and Dawn—and Spike, more often than not—after a few days of having houseguests. Having Wesley around hadn’t been bad, if only because they hadn’t been in the house much, but now with Angel and his gang, and Connor there as well—
Plus, things with Angel were awkward for any number of reasons. Buffy was more grateful to head to class than she ever thought she’d be. Of course, after having to drop out, then reapply, Buffy was simply grateful to be back in school.
After her last class, she saw Willow down the hall, talking to a girl she didn’t recognize. “Willow!”
Her friend glanced over at her, and although she waved, she didn’t appear very welcoming. “Hey,” Buffy said as she got closer. “What’s up?”
“I was just talking to Libby about a class,” Willow replied. Libby murmured a goodbye and shared a meaningful look with the witch.
Buffy suspected that wasn’t the only thing they had been talking about, but she let it go. She didn’t want to get into a fight now. Over the last month, she’d tried to put their differences behind her, but she had found that she didn’t trust Willow—not completely, not anymore.
“Are you going to come over and see Connor?” she asked as they began walking out of the building. “They’re leaving tonight.”
Willow shrugged. “I don’t think so. It’s not like you need me.”
Buffy knew that was a dig to get back at her for not allowing Willow to help open the portals. “Will—”
“I’ve got something else going on tonight, Buffy,” Willow said impatiently.
She stifled the hurt she felt. “What’s that?”
“There’s a Wicca meeting,” Willow replied, albeit a little reluctantly.
Buffy frowned. “I thought you’d decided that they didn’t know anything about real magic.”
“Not that group. This is a different one.”
She couldn’t read the expression on Willow’s face, and Buffy didn’t know if Willow feared her disapproval, or if she knew that whatever she was doing wasn’t right. There didn’t seem to be any reply that she could make; Buffy knew that whatever she said was likely to come out wrong. “I hope you have a good time.”
Willow shot her a resentful look, probably because of the reluctance in her voice. “I’ll be fine, Buffy,” she said impatiently. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay.” Buffy looked into the face of her friend and wondered when they’d grown so far apart. “Just—be careful, Will.”
This time, Willow seemed to see her concern, and she shrugged. “I’ll be fine,” she repeated. “See you later?”
Buffy nodded, then watched as her friend slipped into another building. She was beginning to wonder if their friendship would ever be like it was.