Show Don't Tell
Am-Chau Yarkona
PG-13
Not my characters.
Post-Chosen and post-Home, Wesley pays Buffy a visit. Written in half an hour
for Cindy's challenge.
Buffy opened the door slowly, the chain on, wanting to see before she was seen.
For a moment, she didn't quite believe it. "Wesley?"
He nodded. "Buffy, we need to talk."
"About what?" she asked.
"What's happening. The prophecy. Everything," he said, and leaned on the doorframe. "Can I come in, Buffy, please? I've been on the road for three days, looking for you."
"I didn't want to be easy to find," she told him, but she took the chain off and stood back. "Are you sure you're not a vampire?"
In silence, he walked past her. "It wouldn't matter if I was. This isn't your home."
"Closest thing I've got," she shrugged. "It does. Bed, chair, space to swing an axe in."
"You're still practising, then? That's good," he said, without waiting for an answer. "We'll need that."
"Okay, Wes. Square with me. What's going on?"
"Guess." She looked at him, taking in the unshaven chin, the haunted eyes, and the ragged clothes.
"Big war, lots of fighting, time for a Slayer to save the world?"
"That's right."
"Well, you can go and find yourself some other girl. There's thousands out there with Slayer powers now; I'm no better than any of them."
"None of them have your... experience."
"Then they can get some. I have stuff to do."
"Like what, Buffy? Stamp on cockroaches?"
"For example," she agreed, putting her booted foot on one that had haplessly crawled out from under a cupboard. "And a job to go to-- waitressing-- and a free evening class. That sort of thing."
Wesley simply looked at her.
"Nothing I can't leave if I have to, but I'd rather not. You never answered my question."
"I can tell you the details in the car. We have to be going."
"No, we don't."
"I'll never understand," Wesley sighed, "how Giles put up with you."
"He saw my inner light," Buffy said, facetiously.
"I'm sure. In short, then: Angel Investigations has taken over Wolfram and Hart. Angel can't deal with running something that large. Gunn's quit. Fred can't be dragged out of her lab. Cordy can't be dragged out of her coma. There's a prophecy that says Spike will come back from wherever he's gone. It goes on to say that he will cause an apocalypse, but it doesn't say how."
"I don't see what I can do to help." Buffy suddenly became aware that they were still just standing there, inside the door. She moved to sit down.
"No, Buffy," Wesley said, and she changed her mind, turning back towards him. "You can lead, Buffy. You can get the Watcher's Council to help us. You can get Willow to help us. The younger Slayers will follow you."
She shook her head, and flopped into the musty armchair. "Wrong, Wesley. I can't lead, they won't follow, Willow's gone her own way, and there is no Watcher's Council. Go back to your law firm and think of someone else to ask."
"Buffy, there is nobody else. You have to help me."
"No, I don't. You have to help you."
"I'm sorry?"
"You really aren't," Buffy said. "I mean, if none of the others can lead, then you'll have to. It's the only reason anyone's ever followed me: none of them could lead."
"I can't."
"That's what I thought."
"Okay, Buffy, you don't want to help, that's fine." He put his hand on the doorknob.
"You don't get it, do you?" Buffy said, standing again. "I am helping you. I'm telling you what I've learnt. You were in charge of Angel Investigations, weren't you? I remember Willow telling me something about that. You can take charge, if that's what's needed."
He nodded, as if he got it, and opened the door. "Will you come with me? Show me how?"
"I already did that," she said, and shut the door in his face.