__A Nudge in the Right Direction__
By Kath
"Daddy?"
A small boy with dark hair, perhaps 5 years old, seemed to just appear
out of nowhere, standing behind the front desk of the former Hyperion
Hotel.
Wesley's head shot up from it's resting place on a pile of books. "Huh?"
He looked around, but no one was there. [Just a dream then.] Glad
that no one had caught him napping, he gathered his belongings and
headed out to his bike, ready to head home after a long, lonely day of
bookwork. He was startled to see the same boy from his dreams,
standing in front of his motorcycle.
"Daddy."
The Englishman stopped, removed his glasses to rub his eyes, and when
he put them back on, the child was gone again. Fearing the boy was
lost and looking for help, Wesley searched around for a few minutes,
but could find no sign of him. Pondering whether or not he should notify
the police, he finally decided against it. With his luck, he would get
Kate, and he would have to explain how he'd seen the boy twice, but
didn't know how he got there, or where he went, and maybe he was
just seeing things after all....No, better to just go home.
Wesley couldn't keep his mind from thinking about his 'visitor', as he
drove his familiar route home. So engrossed in his thoughts was he,
that he didn't even realize, until he was almost upon it, that he had
driven to Cordelia's apartment, out of habit, rather than his own. [So
used to giving her a ride home first, I guess.] Without warning, a small
figure darted out in front of his bike, and Wesley had to swerve violently,
nearly ramming into several parked cars, to avoid hitting it. Shaking
badly, he dismounted and went into the street. Nothing. Mild panic set
in, at the thought of getting back on the bike. There was no doubt in
Wesley's mind as to who it had been, in his path. He looked up and saw
a light on in Cordelia's apartment window, and headed towards it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Who is it?" came a suspicious voice from behind the door.
"Cordelia, it's Wesley. Sorry to bother you this late, but..."
The door was thrown open, and the girl was standing there, glaring at
him. "Wesley, this is supposed to be my day off, remember? What do
you want?"
Wesley couldn't help staring at the lovely figure in front of him. "Oh, ah,
I hope you weren't just heading for bed..."
The girl looked down at her pretty red dress, and then back at him, the
look on her face clearly indicating that she thought he'd gone insane.
"Uh....I mean, you obviously just got back from a date...or
something....and probably want to go to bed...or...ah..."
"What makes you think I just got home from a date? You haven't been
*spying* on me, have you?" Menace laced her voice now.
"Oh, *no*, of course not. I just figured...well, you look particularly
lovely tonight, and ..." The words had popped out of Wesley's mouth
before he could clamp it shut. He blushed and looked at his shoes.
"You think I look lovely?" Cordelia's voice had softened considerably, as
she stared at her coworker in a new way.
"Well...yes." He forced himself to look into her eyes. He was surprised
to find kindness there, and she was smiling. With renewed confidence,
he smiled back. [Dammit man, get hold of yourself. You're not sixteen,
and, after all, this is *Cordelia*.]
"Actually, a group from my acting class went to a play tonight. That's
why I took the day off, and why I'm so dressed up. Now, you must have
come here for a reason, other than to compliment me...not that I mind
you doing that either...but, why don't you come sit down and you can fill
me in on the latest evil happenings."
Wesley shrugged out of his leather jacket and sank gratefully down onto
the couch. His legs had been a bit wobbly since his near accident, and
making a fool out of himself with Cordelia hadn't helped any. He
proceeded to tell her everything he'd seen that night. She got up, made
a pot of tea, and brought back two cups.
"So, do you think he was?"
Confused, Wesley stopped, with the cup at his lips. "Was what?"
"Your son, silly."
How he managed not to dump scalding hot tea into his lap, at those
words, he never knew. "My *what*?!"
"Well, he was calling you 'Daddy', wasn't he?" Cordy replied, calmly.
"Yes....but....now really, Cordelia..." he sputtered.
"Relax, Guilty Boy," she grinned at him. "What I meant was, maybe he
isn't what he seems to be. Maybe he's not real...yet. I've seen too
many visions to not believe in signs and stuff."
Wesley considered this. "You think he may be from the future..."
"...or a vision of the future." she finished. "Maybe. Maybe he's trying to
tell you something, or get you to do something."
"It's possible...but what?"
She shrugged. "I dunno. He's *your* kid."
It dawned on him then, what they were saying. "A son. I might, one
day, have a son." His voice was soft, and his eyes big with wonder.
Cordelia felt a strange tightening in her chest, as she watched him. "I
would never have imagined...do you think I could ever be a good father?"
The girl smiled at him again, all teasing aside. At some point in the last
few minutes she had taken his hand in her own, but she couldn't
remember doing it. "I think you'd be a wonderful father."
Wesley swallowed hard at the rising lump in his throat. He couldn't
imagine why he was suddenly feeling so emotional. He didn't think
Cordelia would buy the 'allergies' excuse this time, either. "Thank you,"
he managed to whisper.
"So, I wonder who the mother is."
Cordelia could have kicked herself, as soon as the words left her
mouth. They both froze instantly, each having had the same thought at
the same time. They quickly broke apart, Cordy busying herself picking
up the dishes and taking them to the kitchen. She stood quietly at the
sink, trying to figure out why she was suddenly so upset. She tried to
fool herself, but she knew the truth. It wasn't the idea of Wesley having
a child someday that bothered her; it was the idea that he might do it
with someone other than her, that was causing the tears to well in her
eyes. She had taken it for granted that their little 'family' of three would
always be together, that Wesley would always be there to comfort her,
support her, and be her friend. The idea that he might one day go off
and start his own 'real' family, had simply never occurred to her....and
she didn't like it one bit.
She hadn't heard him enter the kitchen, didn't even realize he was
there, until he was standing directly behind her, tentatively reaching out
to rest a hand on her arm.
"Cordelia?"
She didn't trust her voice not to waver just then, so she nodded.
"I want to tell you something, and I want you to just hear me out, then,
if you want, we can just forget I ever said it....Please, turn around."
When she did as he asked, Wesley almost lost his nerve, seeing how
distraught she was. Still, if he didn't say this now, he might never get
the chance again, and then he'd be miserable for the rest of his life. He
cleared his throat, started and stopped a few times, before finally just
blurting out what was on his mind...and in his heart.
"Cordelia, I don't know what transpired tonight, what I was supposed to
learn from this...if anything. Perhaps it was all the musings of a tired
mind. I don't know. I have come to realize something, with crystal
clarity, and I feel I must tell you what it is. I don't want you to feel
obligated by it, or anything, and I'll understand if you don't ..."
"Wes, just tell me what it is, okay?"
The rest came out in one long, rushed sentence. "I want you to know
that if I ever do have children I wouldn't want to have them with anyone
but you because we're already family and I love you and..."
Anything else he had been about to say was cut off by her lips pressed
softly to his. He held back for a moment, then pulled her to him,
wrapping his arms tightly around her. He could feel her fingers in his
hair, as he stroked her back. Beyond that, all he felt was heat, longing,
passion....and love. For him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Epilogue:
The small boy, sat on the white marble stoop. Sitting next to him was
his friend, the funny man in the weird shirt, who always made him
laugh, and kept him company, as they watched life go on below
them. "Did I do it right? I did what you told me to do."
The laughing eyes rested on his face, tenderly, and the soft Irish brogue
drifted down to him. "Yeah, kid, you did it just right."
"And they're gonna be my mom and dad someday?"
Doyle tried not to think about what might have been, for him and his
Princess, if only...but, no, he knew this was how it was supposed to be.
"Yeah kid."
"Good." The boy never got tired of hearing this. "I like them."
* * *