__A Time to Heal__
By Jolene Beasley



"Hi, Cedrick! Right on time... Ooo, fudge!" Buffy's hand shot out and liberated a good-sized chunk from the plate in front of him.

"Help yourself, of course," Cedrick said dryly, unable to keep from smiling as he entered the house. He knew Buffy couldn't resist anything chocolate.

"And thank you for sharing. You're a gentleman and a scholar." She followed him into the living room, still eyeing the heavy-laden plate as she chewed happily.

Cedrick gave a longsuffering sigh and sat down on the couch, putting the fudge on the coffee table in front of him. "Isn't it almost time to pick up Marcus? I could dash over, if you like."

"Rupert's already gone. He got out of class early for some reason. I think they were spraying the halls for bugs." She shuddered, much to his amusement. Demons, Vampires and slimy things from Hell didn't faze her, but she drew the line at roaches.

"And how is Marcus adapting to his first week at preschool?"

Buffy beamed and plopped down on the couch beside her father-in-law. "He loves it. Of course, thanks to the two British schoolmasters in our family, he's already way ahead of everyone else, but he loves it."

"Am I early? I thought Rupert said four o'clock."

"He did, but he's late, because of picking up the kid. Where'd you get the fudge, by the way? Or have you started taking Martha Stewart lessons from HGTV?"

Cedrick chuckled. Really, once you understood a bit about popular culture, Buffy's quips were quite amusing. "I'm much more inclined to watch "Emeril Live", actually. But no, Senora Ortega made these for me."

"Senora who? Oh, you mean Mrs. Ortega? From the Laundromat?"

"Yes. She's an excellent cook. She's taken it upon herself to educate me in quality Southern California cuisine... in addition to preventing me from ruining my shirts."

"Quality Southern California cuisine includes fudge? A woman after my own heart!"

"Ah, yes. She does seem a pleasant woman."

"Smart, too. She has a hefty degree from some university in Mexico. Rupert was even impressed."

"An advanced business degree from the Universidad Nacional Autonoma de Mexico, to be exact."

"Wow, that's a mouthful... are all Giles-es multi-lingual?"

Cedrick smiled. "All the ones I know are at the very least bi-lingual."

"Makes me feel totally uneducated."

"Not at all," he said kindly. "I suppose you could call psychic communication a second language."

Buffy snorted, but looked pleased.

"At any rate, Senora Ortega speaks French, as well, with a charming accent, I might add."

Buffy began to look smug. "I'll bet she does. She's a widow, did you know?"

"Yes, you've mentioned that a time or two."

"And she owns a bunch of Laundromats, did you know that?"

"Ah... yes, I did."

"She's kind of an entrepreneur, too. Helps people get started with their businesses... gives people jobs when they need them."

"Yes, she's very generous." Cedrick caught the sly look in Buffy's eyes. He instantly knew he was in trouble. Buffy's matchmaking efforts on his behalf were becoming embarrassingly blatant.

Buffy ignored the subtle warning in Cedrick's voice. "I think she's got the hots for you, Mister Sophisticated Foreign Guy. Next she'll be inviting you to her place for a genuine home-cooked Mexican feast."

"Well, actually..."

Buffy's smile nearly split her face in two. "Get out! She did? What'd you say? Are you going? When?"

Cedrick's stuttering response was interrupted by the sound of an opening door and the appearance of a tiny, tousle-haired tornado named Marcus. The boy made a beeline for his grandfather, while his smiling father followed at a more sedate pace. Buffy jumped up and met him, her face lifted for a kiss.

"Gwanfadder! I dwawed a picture fo' you!" The happy little boy bounced into Cedrick's lap and presented him with a wrinkled sheet of construction paper. On it was a two-year-old's rendition of the Giles family... a large, wobbly stick figure with smaller circles representing glasses, a crooked smile, and the vestige of a body, arms and legs. Its disproportionate hands were linked on one side with a smaller circle with yellow streaks for hair, and on the other with an even smaller, brown streaked figure. A mid-sized shape with gray streaks finished the portrait.

"This is very good, Marcus. I see you have drawn your father, your mother, yourself and me."

"Yeth! I dwawed..."

Giles, with his arms still around Buffy, said mildly, "Drew, Marcus. The past tense of 'draw' is 'drew'."

"Otay, Daddy. I dwew my family. Dat's what Sisser Anne told us to dwew."

Giles rolled his eyes and started to correct the boy again, but Buffy poked him in the side. "Teacher mode *off*, buster. Let him be a baby sometimes. It's okay, and kinda cute, too."

"He understands more than you think, love."

"I know, but still..."

Cedrick cleared his throat, effectively stopping the discussion before it blossomed into a disagreement. He turned to Marcus, a serious look on his face. "May I keep this?" He placed the picture on the table beside the brownies and smoothed it carefully.

"Yeth, Gwanfadder. I dwew it fo' you." He snuggled into Cedrick's side. "So you can wemember what we wook wike."

Cedrick chuckled. "It's a very good likeness. You've included your father's glasses."

Marcus shyly eyed the candy on the table and looked up at Cedrick with guileless eyes. "What's dat?"

"It's fudge."

"Oh. What's fudge?"

"It's a type of chocolate candy. Would you like some?"

"Yeth."

As Marcus sampled the fudge, Giles looked at his watch. "Well, are we ready to go?"

Cedrick nodded, smiling as his grandson finished the candy with obvious relish. "Do you like fudge, Marcus?"

A huge grin appeared on the boy's face. "Yeth! It berry good!"

"C'mere, kiddo." Buffy held out her hand, and he squirmed off Cedrick's lap and came to her side. She wiped the chocolate off his face with her ever-present washcloth and looked him over with a mother's eye, smiling in satisfaction. "You stayed pretty clean today, sweetie, so you don't have to change clothes. Do you need to go to the restroom?"

Marcus shook his head 'no'.

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I sure, Mummy," he declared proudly.

"Good boy. Now, we're gonna help Grandfather Giles pick out furniture for his new house." She picked Marcus up and balanced him on her hip. "We're ready, then, I guess." She started for the door, snagging her purse along the way. "I am sooo glad I don't have to carry a diaper bag around any more!"

"Amen," Giles agreed.

As they went out the front door, Buffy said mischievously, "Hey, sweetie, did you know your dad has a date?"

********

"Dis one, Gwanfadder!" Marcus leaped onto his choice of couch, wiggling around until he was comfortably seating in the center. "Dis is *soft*."

Marcus seemed delighted with the furniture showroom, and he kept the salesman amused with his questions and opinions of the pieces they were shown. He didn't seem to realize that picking furniture was a 'grown up affair', and he cheerfully added his two cents worth at every opportunity.

Cedrick tried the couch, staring seriously off into space as he evaluated its potential. "It's very nice. Why do you like it, Marcus?"

"'Cause it wooks wike mine!" He slid down until his face was against the plush fabric. "An' it's soft wike mine."

The salesman, eager to get things moving, offered, "This model has twin recliners, Mister Giles." He indicated a button just under the arm, and to Cedrick's surprise, a footrest appeared. "Just lean back as far as you want to... it'll stay where you put it until you're ready to get up. Perfect for watching TV."

"I'm not much of a television watcher," Cedrick said doubtfully.

"Say, I like this," Buffy commented from the opposite corner of the sofa. She reclined the seat back and closed her eyes. Marcus clambered into her lap, laying his head on her chest and going completely still, imitating her relaxed pose. "Marcus likes it, too," she observed, tickling her son until he giggled and squirmed down.

"Comes with a loveseat/hide-a-bed combination and a side chair..."

The salesman looked down as Marcus marched up to him and stated matter-of-factly, "We want dis one."

"You're awfully free with your grandfather's money, son," Giles said with a smile.

"No, he's absolutely right. This is just the thing. I shall take this suite." Cedrick stood decisively and nodded, satisfied with the boy's choice. The salesman disappeared to fill out the paperwork, and Giles grabbed Marcus before he saw anything else he thought his grandfather should buy.

"Do you need anything else, Cedrick?" Buffy asked, still reclining comfortably.

"No, I believe that is all. We can move the rest of my furniture in this weekend, and I believe I shall be quite comfortable."

"I'm sorry we couldn't have found a more suitable place earlier, Father." Giles shifted Marcus higher in his arms and frowned. "There aren't that many houses available for the short term."

"Not at all. Having the apartment first allowed me time to decide where I wanted to live. The house is just right for me, and there's room for Marcus to play. I'm quite content."

"You'll have to invite Mrs. Ortega to your housewarming party, Cedrick," Buffy said smoothly.

Cedrick just glared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "I wasn't aware of a housewarming party."

"That's because we haven't gotten around to planning it yet. But you'll have to get everything fixed up and invite everyone over to trash the place. It's traditional."

"I see." Somehow, he managed to convey the fact that he didn't see at all.

Giles, ever the peacemaker, said evenly, "We'll discuss it later."

Cedrick nodded, amused in spite of himself. "I suppose I should get used to you two planning my social calendar, yes?"

"Sure, because we're so good at it."

Cedrick chuckled, wandering off to examine some floor lamps. Buffy didn't move, but her thoughts turned wistful as she sent a non-verbal message to her husband. 'Now if he could just re-establish his connection with the Bond, everything would be perfect.'

'Yes, it would,' Giles agreed silently. Strangely enough, his father seemed reluctant to be drawn back into the realm of the supernatural.

The salesman returned and motioned them towards the office, so there was no time for further extra-sensory communication.


*-*-*-*-*

"I'm worried about your dad."

"As am I. He will agree that we need to try to reestablish our Bond, but he won't agree to a set time and place."

"He's just putting things off so he won't have to think about them."

"Perhaps. He's been through so much... I can't seem to bring myself to insist."

"I know. He's been so sweet... in his gloomy British way."

Giles raised an eyebrow at her description. "Gloomy?"

"Well, yeah. He's just so... down... all the time. And still won't listen to us where the Bond is concerned."

"Father has never been the cheery sort, Buffy."

"Well, yeah, but before he was canned, he was all right."

"At least, that's what he told us. I'm not entirely sure he was all right, truly. Being sequestered away from his family for more than two decades has to leave lasting trauma."

"Yeah, but it's our job to help him. We're his family now. He belongs to us, and vice versa."

Giles hummed his agreement, then reluctantly lifted his head from his wife's belly to squint at the digital clock on their nightstand. Eleven-fifteen, it was, and they hadn't heard from Cedrick at all since they left the furniture store. He sighed again, placing a quick kiss near her belly button before sliding to his side and scooting up to rest his head on his pillow. Buffy moved into her usual pre-slumber position at his side, arm across his waist and head fitting comfortably into the hollow between his neck and shoulder.

"Rupert?"

"Mmm?"

"Are we weird?"

The question was so unexpected, and brought forth such vivid images of the various demons and magical forces they'd battled, that he barked a quick laugh before he caught himself. "Why do you ask that, Love?"

"Because, lately, nearly every time we make love, we end up talking about your father afterwards. Even when it was... wow, which it was tonight, you sexy thang, you."

Giles thanked her for the compliment with a gentle kiss. "Every time with you is amazing, love."

She smiled, then frowned again. "I was afraid the talking about your dad might be... y'know... a weird thing."

He didn't suppress the chuckle this time, and pulled her into a tight hug with one arm. "It isn't weird, dearest. We're just... um... relaxed at this point. All the more urgent matters..." He frowned in mild disapproval as she waggled her eyes suggestively. "...I didn't mean *that*, silly girl. The trials of the day, so to speak, are settled. At any rate, now is an optimum time for quiet reflection. It isn't strange that we would turn to Father's troubles, since we care about him."

"Yeah, I guess. I just want him to be happy, hon."

"So do I, but not at the risk of ruining our own happiness. Whatever is done about his mental trauma, it must be his decision. Not ours."

"I know. I just want it to be fixed right now. You know me and my non-patient-ness."

"Yes, I do." He kissed her on top of the head and reached for the lamp switch. "Good night, light of my life."

Buffy giggled into the darkness and replied saucily, "Good night, stud muffin."

It was Giles' turn to giggle, then quiet contentment settled over the room.

Two hours later, the telephone rang, shattering the silence, and Giles reluctantly disengaged himself from his wife's embrace and rolled over to fumble for the receiver. He mumbled a near-incoherent greeting, and waited for the person on the other end to justify his or her existence.

The person did, quickly.

"G! You an' B untangle the sheets, okay, 'cause I need major help right now!"

Giles was instantly awake. "Faith? Where are you? What..." Beside him, Buffy sat up with a worried frown.

"No time, Watcher-man. You guys gotta come to Twenty-third and Holloway with some major armament and a book on trashing a demon that looks like the Incredible Hulk."

"The incredible what?"

Faith sighed. Obviously Giles never read comic books. "Big, green, red eyes, grunts a lot, smashes through walls, has my Watcher. That enough for ya? Now shake your booty!"

"Dear God... Wesley's been taken? Just now?"

"You get a gold star, G. Green and Ugly was taking Willie's Bar apart as we came by on patrol, so we stopped by to make sure no humans got hurt. Hulkie took a liking to Wes, I guess. I hope it's not gay."

Giles was instantly all business. "Faith, physical description, in detail."

The terse command triggered her ingrained reporting skills. She cleared her throat and recited, "Seven feet, maybe more. Appears to be male. Built like a weight lifter, all shoulders and pecks, small waist and legs. No body hair, no fangs that I could see. Reacts to painful stimulus by going into an even deeper rage. I barely dented its fenders. Knocked the breath outta me in just a few minutes. Caught Wes with a backhand and knocked him out. Then it picked him up like a baby and ran off. By the time I got to the door, they were outta sight. That thing was *fast*!!"

"Any distinguishing marks? Tattoos? Jewelry?"

"Just a ratty pair of gym shorts that were busting at the seams."

"Barefoot?"

"Yep."

"Injuries? Scratches?"

"Not that I could see. I managed to land a few kicks... its ears may be ringin'."

"Thank you, Faith. I have what I need. Continue to search, but try to stay near the bar. You have my cell number?"


"Yeah, no problem. See ya soon."

"Right."

They stared at each other, suddenly realizing...

"Marcus!" They cried in unison.

"Giles, we can't leave him..."

"I'll call Father. We can take Marcus to him quicker than he can come to us."

She smiled in relief. "Sounds like a plan."

********

The entire block was cordoned off by police tape, marked and unmarked police cars. The surrounding buildings alternately appeared and disappeared as the rotating lights touched their surfaces.

"I don't see her."

Giles skirted the police tape cautiously, trying not to look like a criminal returning to the scene. He spotted a slight figure striding purposefully down the middle of the street, and gave a quick nod in her direction. Buffy dashed away, leaving Giles to follow at a more... human... pace.

"Faith! Any luck?"

The attractive brunette shook her head angrily. "Not even a breath of the Bond, either. He's gotta be out cold."

"I know what that's like."

Faith came out of her funk and looked Buffy straight in the eye. The intermittent lighting didn't hide the spark of kinship between the two girls. "I know you do, B." She relaxed suddenly and enveloped the blonde in a rib-crushing hug. "I'm glad you're here, really glad. We have to find him." She sniffed fiercely and added, in a nearly inaudible whisper, "I can't do this without him."

Buffy let the girl cling to her until she stopped shaking. The crusty, devil-may-care exterior slowly crept back into place, and Faith wiped her face stubbornly as she pulled away.

Giles approached slowly, Buffy's thoughts warning him to ignore Faith's tears. "Faith. Any sign of the creature?"

His calm voice brought a slight smile to Faith's tightly closed mouth. "Just a path of destruction that leads away from here. I didn't wanna get too far away."

"Good thinking. Let's take the car. We can arm ourselves as we drive."

After rounding the block and following Faith's directions, the path of the demon was plain to see, even in the moonless night. It had simply punched its way through any obstacle it found, leaving broken fences and walls with huge holes in which the dust was still settling. They drove for about fifteen frustrating minutes as Giles tried to find the most direct way to follow the trail and still keep the little red convertible on the street.

Finally, they came to the end of the destruction. They left the car, arms loaded with all the weapons they could carry, and started to backtrack until they came to an undamaged wall.

"He has to be in there. There's no exit hole." Buffy's blood was singing in her veins, a Slayer's natural response to the hunt. "Let's go kick his hiney, and we'll all be home for breakfast."

Surprisingly, Faith shook her head in the negative. "No way, B. He's too tough for simple Slayage. We gotta have an edge before we go in."

"Besides our usual charm and quick wit?"

Faith nodded grimly. "Yeah, we need a plan."

Both girls looked at Giles. Faith shifted anxiously, her eyes pleading. "Well? Any ideas, Big G?"

"Not this instant, no..."

"Aw, shucks. I thought maybe 'Big G' stood for 'Big Guns', which we really could use."

Giles gave Faith his most exasperated look. "Please, both of you... let me think."

Buffy shut her thoughts away from his, giving him a quiet mind to work with. She returned to her cautious patrol of the building's exterior, carefully avoiding the rubble at the entry point. Beside her, Faith almost paralleled Buffy's movements, too rattled to be still. Buffy shushed her several times as her voice rose in nervous chatter. Finally, Buffy gave up and led her sister-Slayer back to the car. Giles was sitting in the passenger's seat pouring over the books he'd brought with them.

As they approached, Giles gave a triumphant cry and threw the car door open. "Here it is! But, I don't understand... Dwordian demons aren't usually aggressive."

"This one is," Faith snapped. "And he's got my Watcher, so dig out the good stuff and let's get him out."

"All right... it seems... well, a simple beheading should do it."

"Rupert, sweetie, you know darn well there's nothing simple about a beheading," Buffy stated huffily.

"Nonsense. Nothing to it. Just dash in there and..." He demonstrated with a few elegant motions, grinning down at her as she stood with hands on hips, a mock glare on her face.

"Guys! Sometime this century, okay?" Faith's voice held an edge of desperation. Now that she had a semblance of a plan, she was ready for action.

"Sorry. Let's move." Buffy grabbed her favorite sword took the lead, hoping to keep Faith calm enough to get Wesley back in one piece. Faith followed with a battleaxe, which was much more in keeping with her personal style. Giles brought up the rear, holding his well sharpened, highly polished broadsword at the ready.

Just before plunging into the dark cavern, Buffy turned to her fellow warriors and said quietly, "Backup?" She held up her hand, her wrist displaying a cleverly designed dart bow and three darts. The fourth was held in the spring loaded firing mechanism. She also had various smaller stakes and knives stashed at her waist, in case the fighting got close.

"Crossbow," Giles said tersely, holding it up and patting his waist. He also had a few hidden items in reserve.

Faith slapped her jacket. "Got my throwing knives and a really cool dagger."

Buffy grinned at Faith, and with a nod, the three of them went in for the rescue.

********

Cedrick listened with absent attention to the Westminster chimes that emanated from the small clock on his mantelpiece. With his back to the clock face, he counted. One, two... two o'clock... entirely too late for his grandson's parents to be out after large, dangerous demons. After all, they were retired, weren't they? Yet they came, at half past one in the morning, to hand over a grumpy Marcus to him and dash off to engage in deadly battle.

He snorted softly at himself. Wasn't that precisely what he'd trained his son to do? *Must be getting old, mate. There was a time when you would have cheerfully offered Rupert's life up to this madness.* Yes, times had certainly changed.

Marcus shifted, whimpering softly, and Cedrick shifted the sleeping boy's weight to another position on his shoulder. With his parents in danger, the child did not return to sleep until Cedrick had rocked him for over half an hour. Now he was reluctant to disturb the baby's rest.

"Daddy..." The tiny voice sobbed, and Cedrick's heart twisted painfully in his chest. He shushed Marcus softly, pulling him in for a reassuring hug.

Where were his children? For surely, even in this short time, Buffy had become his concern, just as Rupert was. Fury boiled inside him, for in his damaged, depressed condition, he was unable to connect with them through the Bond, even briefly. What had happened to him that he no longer felt even the faintest familial connection with them? They'd tried, more than once, to help him, to heal the breach, but he'd been to busy wallowing in his own mire to accept.

Too busy pitying yourself, Ced, old man. Poor you. Poor, sacked, disgraced you. Never mind that your son needs you, that your grandson looks at you with sad, bright eyes. No, you had to maintain your aloof distance, keep yourself locked away from the sun, from the light, from love...

*And now, when you need it, the Bond is silent. Serves you bloody right!*

Fighting his self-disgust, he concentrated as Marcus quieted, trying to find the mental and spiritual centering that Rupert had taught him several years back at that fateful Watchers' Retreat in the forest.

His head began to throb, but he persisted. He couldn't just sit around waiting. *Something simple,* he told himself. *Just to see that they're all right.*

* * * * *

"Faith!"

The clash of metal on armor-plated flesh seemed to be all around them. Not only was the Dwordian strong, it was fast, much faster than it should have been. Within less than ten minutes, the three would-be rescuers were breathing hard, sporting scrapes, bruises, and in Faith's case, a serious-looking slash that ran from shoulder to elbow. The hole in the sleeve of her new leather jacket gaped as she maneuvered around the room, keeping her weapon between herself and the not-so-jolly green giant in front of her.

The Dwordian roared in frustration and batted at her with a huge paw, missing her by a scant few inches as she danced away. Behind him, Wesley was slumped against the wall, unconscious. At least Faith hoped he was only unconscious.

"Thought G said these things were docile!" She barely avoided another blow as Buffy feinted from the other side, drawing the beast's attention for a moment. "Say, B? I think a three-point attack would be a good thing right now!"

Buffy surveyed the dark room. There wasn't any way to mount a three-point attack when the attackee was sticking in the corner. She snorted and moved farther away from Faith, hoping a two-pointer would be good enough until Rupert could join them.

"Any luck, babe?" She could hear him behind her, growling under his breath as he struggled.

The scratching sounds ceased, and he gave a huge sigh as he stood and surveyed the pile of plaster and wood that covered his weapon. "None at all. It's well and truly buried."

His plaintive tone made her smile into the darkness. "I'm sorry babe, I know that was your favorite crossbow."

Giles joined the two Slayers, his remaining weapon drawn. "Perhaps we can return when it's light, and bring a crowbar."

"Might not need one, once our big green distraction is outta the way," Faith said cheerfully, taking another swipe at the creature's chest as it reacted to the new threat.

"Quite right! I might be able to... Ow! Blast!" Giles snarled as he tumbled across the ruined floor, courtesy of a blow from the Dwordian's fist. He instantly rolled to his feet, clutching his shoulder, and scrabbled for his sword as the creature began to advance.

Suddenly, Giles noticed that the huge being was trembling. The green face, neck and chest seemed darker than the rest of its body, indicating a flush of fever. Giles forgot about being in imminent, mortal danger and began to put clues together.

Before the Dwordian could act on its opponent's sudden immobility, it was blindsided by two very determined Slayers, striking it in the chest and side with such force that the huge creature was lifted off its feet and slammed into the one remaining uncracked wall. The wall, bowing to a superior force, shifted several inches amid a rush of plaster dust. The entire structure began to creak and groan.

"We have to get out of here!" Giles shouted at the girls.

"Not without Wes!" Faith shouted back.

"We might have a chance if we attack simultaneously!"

"Sounds like a plan, G! Let's GO!" She dove at the addled Dwordian, her battleaxe held high.

"No, Faith! Wait for us!" Buffy scrambled after Faith, with Giles right on her heels.

********

Cedrick's meditation was interrupted by a sudden cry. Marcus twisted in his arms, suddenly awake and frightened. "Mummy! No, Mummy!" Small hands clutched at Cedrick's robe, wrinkling the fabric in terror.

"Marcus, it's all right. They're all right."

"No, no, Mummy wook out!" The child was becoming more agitated, and Cedrick was having a hard time holding him.

"Marcus, please! Try to stay calm! Can you feel Mummy and Daddy?"

Marcus looked up, his eyes bright with tears, and nodded.

"Can you see them?" Cedrick had never experienced a visual connection with anyone, not even Leila. He was surprised, then, when Marcus nodded even more vigorously than before.

"De monster gonna hurt dem! Dey need to wun away!"

Cedrick's mind began to click like a Geiger counter. "Marcus, can you warn them?" He wasn't sure if what Marcus saw was past or future, but the child's urgency made him think the latter.

"I don't know how!" the toddler wailed, bursting into heartbroken sobs.

*Congratulations, old man,* Cedrick said to himself. *Due to your stubbornness, you may very well have sealed Rupert's fate!*

"Marcus? Do you remember talking to me about the Bond?"

Marcus hiccupped and looked at him questioningly.

Cedrick sighed. "About not being able to hear me in your head, and me not hearing you," he amended patiently.

"I wemember."

"You said you could help me hear you again."

Marcus smiled tentatively. "I he'p you."

"Yes, that's right. You said you could help me hear in my head again. Do you remember how to do that?"

Time passed as Cedrick waited, fighting his desperation. Was it too late?

Finally, the tiny boy nodded. Cedrick sighed in relief. "Please, Marcus, help me hear in my head again."

"Otay." Without hesitation, the two-year-old reached for his grandfather's temples, placing both tiny hands against his face. His short arms brought them almost nose-to-nose, and Cedrick held his breath as the child frowned in concentration. Something tickled at his subconscious, and fear shot through the ex-Watcher's brain. There was such darkness inside him... how could an innocent bear it...

His inner diatribe suddenly stopped as he was bathed in sensation. The feel of the soft fabric of the sofa beneath his hands, the sweet, baby smell of Marcus in front of him, the soft ticking of the mantle clock... It was as if his senses had suddenly been heightened and enhanced. He drew in a surprised breath as he became aware of the shifting currents of psychic energy surrounding them, and realized with a start that most of the waves came from the tiny person in front of him. He'd never sensed such power, not even from Buffy and Rupert combined!

*Marcus,* he thought desperately, *I don't know what to do!*

Reassurance flowed into him, reminding him of his wife's gentle touch. It had been years since he'd thought of Mary. She always sought to comfort him after a hard night's Slaying... How he wished she was here!

As he fought the urge to burst into tears, the feeling of loss and sorrow was slowly diluted with another, stronger emotion. He couldn't define it... a sense of belonging, of being needed and wanted, of being loved. One word came to his mind, overshadowing everything else.

*Family.* He'd lost his family, at one time. Suddenly, unexpectedly, it had been given back to him during that fateful Retreat in the Cotswolds. Nothing the Council could do to him would negate that truth. No matter what happened tomorrow, he had this. He was loved.

Marcus smiled and moved his hands. "Aw better, Gwanfadder."

Cedrick cleared his throat. Could it have been that easy? "I don't feel any..."

Inside his head, a tiny, innocent voice said playfully, *Do you want to play trucks with me, Grandfather?*

A tentative grin crept across Cedrick's face. "I can hear you!"

"Yes! You awww better!"

Cedrick looked at the tiny boy, amazement filling his mind. Such power resided in that small frame! Power that he suspected would only increase with time and training. The expansive prophesy that he had been studying, the one that he couldn't bring himself to believe, suddenly became more plausible. Physically, Marcus was a two-year-old child. Mentally, he was something else entirely.

Cedrick took a deep breath, ignoring the tears that were streaming down his face. "Thank you, Marcus."

"You weck-come."

"Now, we need to warn your Mummy and Daddy about the big monster."

"Otay!" Marcus bent his head and touched his forehead to the weathered, wrinkled brow in front of him. The line of communication flared and opened, as if it had never been broken.

Just as he had done in the Watcher's camp three years before, Cedrick reached for Buffy's mind...

********

"This thing is speeding!" Faith slashed down on an iron forearm, causing the Dwordian to roar and take a few steps forward, splattering the brunette Slayer with pinkish blood. "Gross, and on my leather pants, too."

"This thing is *persistent.* Did your books say anything about that, Rupert?"

Giles ducked a roundhouse punch and stepped away. "No, they didn't. Dwordians aren't known for their tenacity."

"Well, this one has tenacity coming out its... look out!"

Faith ducked as a large chunk of plaster hurtled over her head and slammed into the floor, raising a thick cloud of dust. She coughed a few times and gasped, "We've been beating it up for an hour, and it's still coming. It's *gotta* be high."

Buffy feinted to one side, drawing the demon's attention away from Faith. "It's gotta be *something*. Even Hellhounds need a break every now and then."

Giles was too busy concentrating on keeping out of the range of those oversized fists. He'd already imbedded three bolts in the creature's side and chest, but they had little effect. Instead, the monster grew more belligerent, tenaciously guarding his corner and human captive from all comers. Giles briefly remembered a line from an extremely silly movie Xander had once forced him to sit through... 'Don't shoot him, it just makes him mad.'

His Watcher training allowed him to sift through possible solutions as he fought, but he was coming up empty. His concentration became so intense that Buffy, after executing an impressive back flip to avoid another powerful swing, stopped and looked at her husband in irritation.

"Don't shut me out, Rupert! I need you!"

He snapped back into contact and she sighed with relief. She didn't enjoy being out of mental touch with him, even for a brief moment. "Better."

She turned back to the giant, which stood panting and growling, waiting for the next attack. "Okay, guys... we're gonna do this right this time. On the count of three..."

"One..." She reloaded her wrist dart thrower, and held her sword up.

"Two..." Faith swung her axe over her shoulder.

"WAIT!" Both Buffy and Giles cried, holding up a hand. Faith was too busy focusing on the thing that stood between her and her man, and she took a step forward. One more step, and she'd be in range...

Someone grabbed her and practically yanked her off her feet. Before she could turn on her new assailant, Buffy hissed in her ear, "Back off a second. I'm getting a message from Cedrick."

Faith stared at Buffy, incredulous that she'd interrupt a battle for a psychic signal from her Dad-in-law. "*So what*??"

"Shhh!"

Buffy and Giles froze, their eyes glazing over briefly before they broke the unseen connection and stared at each other in shock.

"Marcus saw..." Buffy blurted, and Giles answered before she finished.

"He said..."

"Your Dad is..."

"Yes, thank God."

"Then he's okay!"

"Yes, and now we must..."

Faith, her head spinning from trying to follow the fragmented conversation, suddenly shouted, "STOP IT!"

The Dwordian snapped its head up at the sound of her voice, and began to growl.

"Now you've done it, big mouth," Buffy said sarcastically as they began to slowly back away from the disgruntled giant.

"What? You were talking, too!"

"Not at the top of our lungs!"

"You mean, like now?"

"Faith?" Buffy said seriously.

"Yeah?" The brunette answered.

"RUN!!!"

The Dwordian charged. The three humans scattered, vaulting the rubble and trying desperately not to break an ankle on the uneven terrain. They exited the building almost side by side, and once they reached the end of the alley , turned to face the monster.

"That's what the old man said? *Run*??" Faith sniped angrily.

"Yeah. Pretty good advice, huh?" Buffy looked around, but aside from the three of them, the alley was empty. The reassuring hum of the Bond told her that Giles was right behind her. She smiled without turning around. "Your dad came through, babe."

"Yes, he did, didn't he?" Giles said happily.

Faith seemed surprised when they realized the demon wasn't following them. "Where's the Hulk?" she said, watching for signs of movement inside.

Giles cleared his throat as thundering roars and shrieks from inside the building caused more plaster dust to rain down from the ruined ceiling. "The creature is ill."

"DUH! It's totally insane!"

"Precisely. There must be a reason."

"How about, 'I'm an evil demon, I think I'll go smash something?' It works for all the other evil demons." Crashing sounds came from inside and Faith's worried look intensified.

Buffy snorted.

"I saw it trembling." Giles squinted into the darkness, edging cautiously closer.

It was Faith's turn to snort. "How sad. It must know I'm getting' ready to kill it reaaally dead."

"Faith, a Dwordian isn't usually violent."

"This one is. I'd say violence is pretty much it's reason for living."

"But that isn't logical. And why would a violent, crazed lower being kidnap Wesley?"

"Because it's CRAZED! I don't have to listen to this! You guys stay out here and baby-sit your little theories. I'm gonna go get my Watcher." With that, Faith strode back towards the ruin.

Before Buffy could grab her crazed sister-Slayer and talk some sense into her, the Dwordian stumbled into view and began to howl, causing Giles to high-tail it back towards Buffy. Instead of sounding fierce, it sounded... pitiful. Uncertain of her target's continued belligerence, Faith stopped a few feet away, axe at the ready, and said, "Uh, Giles? What's it doing?"

The demon flailed to one side, narrowly missing the remaining wall plaster, and began to hold his head with both ham-sized hands. It was foaming at the mouth. It looked up at the Slayers, its eyes pleading.

"Pain. Pain..." it mumbled, and collapsed.

*-*-*-*-*

"Whew," Buffy breathed gratefully.

Without another word, Faith ran towards the demon, vaulted over it with effortless grace, and headed into the rubble. A scant few minutes later, she reappeared, half-dragging, half-supporting Wesley. She maneuvered him over to Buffy's convertible and eased him into the passenger seat, alternating between soothing murmurs and accusations of how stupid being a macho man really was.

Buffy's relief was cut short as she realized her husband was inching towards the fallen foe, his face openly curious.

"Uh, babe, I don't think you should get too close," Buffy warned nervously.

"It's all right, love. It's quiet for the moment." He stopped just out of arm's reach, which for the huge being in front of him, was several yards. "Dwordian. Can you understand me?"

The creature moaned. Giles took it as a "yes".

"Why do you destroy?"

Faith shook her head. "Dumb question, Big G."

Giles ignored her. Perhaps that wasn't the right word. "Why do you crush?"

The rumbling started again, and the huge being raised his head. The rumbling changed into a guttural, coarse voice. "Crush... Pain... too strong. Not want Pain. Crush Pain. Stop Pain."

Giles looked startled. "What caused your pain?"

Another rumble preceded the Dwordian's words. "Striker."

Faith snapped to attention. "Did it say 'Striker'?"

Buffy nodded. "Who, or what, is Striker?"

"He's scum," Faith said distastefully. "A pusher."

Giles pushed his glasses up and said mildly, "A dealer in illegal drugs? Oh, dear."

"Right, G. I guess he wasn't making enough cash off humans. He picked a winner here, didn't he? It's a lucky break the bum's in jail right now, or he'd be toast."

"The side effects of human drugs on a demonic physiology... it's mind-boggling that anyone could be so stupid!"

The demon whined. It was beginning to realize it was, indeed, a very stupid demon.

Giles turned his attention back to the trembling green hulk and snapped, "What did you want with the Watcher?"

"Watcher fix."

"Watcher fix? How could Watcher fix when you've knocked him unconscious?" Giles wondered, his voice still cold and demanding.

It was too high a concept for the Dwordian. It looked puzzled, then grunted, "Watcher fix. Stop pain. Family afraid."

"Whose family? Yours?"

"Yes." The creature hung his head in shame.

"So. You experimented with drugs to make you stronger and faster, and instead, you became a horror, terrorizing your family and destroying other people's property. Then, instead of going off and hiding in safety until the drugs wore off, you decided to kidnap a Watcher to get you out of your predicament? Exactly how did you propose he do that while nursing a *concussion*?"

Buffy winced. This was Giles at his most scathing. She remembered when that tone had been turned on her. It was not a pleasant memory.

The Dwordian whined, either from discomfort or from confusion at the complicated words Giles had used.

"Dwordian, you might have killed someone tonight. Do you realize that?"

A whimper answered him.

"What could be worth becoming evil?"

"Strong. Fast. Females like. Not strong, Striker make strong. Not good. Much pain, much pain. Had to run. Pain. Not like. Not evil. Not evil!" A huge fist slammed into the ground, causing a minor earthquake.

"Taking drugs to get laid? Definitely male," Buffy said sarcastically.

"Ya mean, you took out five blocks of the Sunnydale warehouse district to impress CHICKS?" Faith stalked toward the downed monster, her eyes flashing. Buffy held her back, a sympathetic look on her face. "What are you, sixteen?"

The Dwordian attempted to draw himself up with dignity. A sudden stab of pain made him howl. Failing in his bravado, he slumped down and said sullenly, "Forty summers."

"You're *forty*?" Faith goggled at the creature, aghast.

"Well, that certainly explains one thing," Giles said matter-of-factly.

Both Slayers turned to him, the question unspoken but plain.

He shifted, trying to work the soreness out of his injured shoulder. "Dwordians do not mature until they are at least sixty. We're dealing with a youth."

"A teenie-bopper demon?" Both girls blurted at once.

"Yes, actually. Dwordians keep their young at home for at least that long. No wonder this one had no idea about drugs, policemen, or hiding places. He's probably a runaway."

"Rupert, is there someone we can call about this demon? Some kind of underworld detox unit he can stay in until his parents come and get him?" Buffy, having seen that the younger Watcher's injuries seemed relatively minor, was inclined to give the ungainly monster a break. The young Dwordian didn't have the corner on doing dumb things. Buffy could certainly vouch for that.

"I suppose... we could call Doctor Phil."

"Ooo! Good idea! Except that thing's gotta promise not to hurt him. He has kids."

"No crush Doctor. Doctor good. Doctor fix." The Dwordian seemed eager to reassure his former enemies that he was, indeed, a good demon.

Buffy looked skeptical and stepped forward, hands on her hips. Giles smiled at the sight... a five-foot-three blonde scolding a four-hundred-pound monster.

"No crush Doctor, no hit Doctor, no slapping Doctor on the back once he fixes you, or I'll come back and kick your butt," she said imperiously.

The Dwordian nodded weakly. "No crush. No hit. No slap. Gnurlag promise."

Buffy looked at Giles, and relaxed at his nod. Dwordians were known for keeping their word, at least, to the best of their understanding.

"Okay, Gnarly, I'm gonna hold you to that promise. If you break it, I'm sooo gonna tell your parents." She turned around and held out her hand. "Cell phone?" Buffy demanded, and was amused when both Faith and Giles tried to hand her one.

She took Giles' phone and smiled at him. She could feel waves of happiness emanating from him, despite his disheveled appearance. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

His eyes took on that special soft glow that was reserved for the most precious ones in his life. "Yes, love, it does."

"What feels good? I want in on that." Faith looked up from her guard post at Wesley's side, grinning.

Giles turned to her as Buffy dialed Dr. Phil's home number. "The broken Bond between my father and the rest of us has been restored."

"Cool. How?"

"I don't know, exactly, but I'm sure we'll find out when we get home."

"What about the Hulk?" Faith pointed at the Dwordian, who was trying to get to his feet.

"You take Wesley to the emergency room and get his noggin checked out. Get your arm stitched up, too, while you're at it. You may be a Slayer, but you 're not above getting that cut infected. We'll make sure ol' Gnarly gets where he's going." Buffy tossed her keys to Faith, smiling at Giles' startled expression. He wasn't too keen on Faith driving Buffy's car... he'd seen Faith drive before.

"Wicked, B! You can pick it up at the apartment later."

Before Faith could climb into the driver's seat, Buffy stopped her with a firm grasp on her arm. "Drive carefully. Giles doesn't need heart failure on top of everything else tonight." She tossed the weapons into the back seat and stepped back to allow them to drive away.

"I'll treat it like it was my very own, I swear," Faith called, waving gaily.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Giles complained.

********

"Mummy! Daddy! You back! I wuv you! You back!"

Giles' heart almost burst as Marcus tackled them both around the knees, beaming happily. They both knelt and put their arms around their son, so relieved to be back with him, safe and sound. After spending a few precious seconds rejoicing with his soul-mate and his son, Giles felt a brief, but distinct mental touch. He recognized the psychic signature instantly, caught a sob before it escaped, and looked up at his Father with wonder.

"Rupert? The most amazing thing happened while you were gone." Cedrick looked a bit sleepy and dazed, but his face reflected more life and hope than Giles had seen in a long time. "Marcus..." He looked at the smiling toddler with wonder. "Somehow, he healed me."

Giles straightened with a smile, unable to hide his misty eyes. "Yes, we know. Congratulations, Father, and welcome home."

Cedrick's face broke into a wide smile, and he pulled his taller son into a genuine embrace. Buffy looked up, tears trailing unnoticed down her face. She gathered Marcus into her arms and stood, leaning against her husband's side. Marcus reached out, wanting to include all three adults in his embrace but lacking the arm length to accomplish it. He settled for clinging to his parent's necks.

"So," Buffy grated, her voice rough with emotion. "All that 'stiff upper lip' British stuff is just a myth. You guys are just as mushy as us barbaric Americans."

Giles laughed soggily and loosened his grip. He kept a steadying hand on Cedrick's arm, and when the older man looked up, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. "You've sussed our secret, love. We English are an emotional lot."

"We simply hide it better than you colonials," Cedrick finished with a chuckle, wiping his eyes with a pristine handkerchief.

"I always knew *you* were a mush-head, Rupert Giles," Buffy retorted lightly.

"Yes, well, being linked with you has increased my capacity for mushy behavior tremendously."

"Oh, by the way, Cedrick, can we borrow your car? Faith took ours to the hospital to get Wesley fixed up."

'Against my better judgment," Giles added.

"Faith's a good driver."

"Faith is a lucky driver."

"She had Wesley in the car. She'll behave."

"It's not just her behavior I'm worried about. It's her fondness for chocolate shakes, as well."

Buffy paled a bit at that. "She'll be too busy with Wes to stop for ice cream. She knows I'd kill her if she spills anything my car!"

Giles fought to keep a straight face. "Ah, well, perhaps you're right. At any rate, once the seats are stained and the paint is scratched, you won't be as particular about your car, will you?"

"Rupert!"

He gave her his most innocent look, and she glared at him, knowing he was baiting her. She chose to ignore his teasing and go back to her original argument.

"Don't change the subject. There wasn't *even* room for the four of us and Gnarly. He was, like, ten feet tall!"

"More like eight, actually," Giles corrected with a grin. "And his name was Gnurlag."

"Whatever. Do you mind, Cedrick?"

The elder Giles waited a few seconds to be sure the rapid fire exchange had come to a halt. He snatched the car keys from their hanger near the kitchen door, and handed them to his daughter-in-law with a tolerant smile.

"Thanks. We'll bring it back tomorrow morning, okay?"

"That will be fine. I don't have to be anywhere tomorrow during the day."


"Oh? And there's a where you have to be tomorrow during the night?" Buffy's face brightened with gossipy interest.

Cedrick cleared his throat. "Hadn't you best be getting Marcus to bed?

"You're going to Mrs. Ortega's!"

"Yes, if you must know."

"All right!!"

Before Cedrick could raise a defense against Buffy's nosiness, Marcus yawned widely. Buffy shifted him to a more comfortable position her arms. He rested his head against her shoulder with a sigh, and immediately fell sleep.

Buffy said softly. "Cedrick, you got lucky this time, thanks to Marcus. I'll just have to harass you about this later." She turned to Giles with a happy smile. "We need to go home and put the kid to bed, babe. And us, too. I'm not used to this late-night Slaying stuff anymore."

"Nor am I, love. Father..." Giles looked up at Cedrick and once again found himself without words to express himself. Instinctively, he sent a burst of warm emotion to his father. The reaction he felt in return was equally as loving.

"We'll see you later, Cedrick. We have a housewarming to plan, remember?"

"Ah, yes. We do. Goodnight, children. I believe I shall sleep quite well tonight... that is, this morning." Buffy and Giles started towards the door, and after a moment, Cedrick followed. He waved to them as they got in his car and left for home, then carefully closed and locked the door. He was still smiling as he headed to bed.

********

Buffy was easing Marcus back into his bed, when he awoke and rubbed his eyes. "Mom?"

Buffy smiled. He'd started calling her 'Mom' after he heard the word from the other children at preschool. He still used 'Mummy', but they were almost interchangeable now. "What is it, honey bear?"

She gave him a kiss as he fought against sleep. "I want a baby brudder."

She was so startled, she burst out laughing. "What??"

"Jeremy gots a baby sisser. I want a baby brudder. Debbie gots a baby brudder, and I want one, too."

She sent her amazement to Giles, who was already in the bed. She got a sleepy, amused reaction that made her smile. She carefully tucked the little boy in, and said softly, "Maybe soon, honey. Maybe soon."

"Soon, Mummy." Marcus smiled a secret smile, and surrendered to Mister Sandman.

Buffy quietly slipped into the master bedroom, her face thoughtful. Giles was dozing, his arm outstretched as if to save her place beside him. She dropped her clothes where she stood, too weary to worry about appearances, and slipped between the sheets to his side. He murmured softly as she settled against him, content to be alive, safe, and with the love of her life.

Just before sleep claimed her, she heard her husband say, "If all our children are like Marcus, I shall want a dozen."

She snorted without opening her eyes. "I had the first one. It's your turn."

His soft chuckle was the last thing she heard before descending into sleep.

Across the hall, Marcus smiled in his sleep. Having a baby brother was going to be so much fun.

* * *