Sacraments

By Merzibelle

I stood in the long abandoned penthouse of the Hyperion, rolling a quartz crystal ball between my hands. None of the team ever ventured up here. The few times they had, well, let's just say that the situations were dire: the first time with Bethany and the second when Fred had fled from me. Thus it was perfect for my purposes. I stood there, staring out the French doors, watching the sun set behind the urban sprawl of Los Angeles, considering exactly what I was about to do.

I had never told the others the exact details of how I knew what Count Kurskov had done, the lengths he had gone to for love. Or perhaps not love: obsession. He wanted his love to dance for him forever; I, on the other hand, just wanted my love to love me. Again, the images played out in my mind's eye, of Fred curled into Gunn's hip, kissing him, while one of her hands fell into his lap. The memory, even now, a full week later, was so vivid I felt as if I was reliving the event again.

I dropped my eyes from the now dark windows to the crystal in my hand. Clear as glass, finely polished, the quartz was growing warm from my caressing it. That was the other thing I had never told my friends-- that I knew what he had done in detail, that some remnant of the Count had given me the knowledge to create a temporal shift such as he had so long ago. Not that I ever would, for it freezes that moment and makes you live it over and over, never moving forward or back. No, that knowledge had led to a book, the book to a spell, and the spell to this moment. To my standing in the shadows of a long abandoned room pondering fate, destiny and the betrayal of everything I had ever believed in.

Drawing in a deep breath, I summoned the powers I had not used in years, not since I had taken the vows I was about to betray. There had been no need for me to exercise this portion of my training, not in Sunnydale nor in Los Angeles. So it took a moment, no more than a heartbeat or two, for the power to rise to my call. I could feel it, the hum of it in my veins, and smiled. With an easily recalled gesture, I lit the candles set in a large circle around me, laughing softly at the quick response of the power.

"Wesley?"

Her voice, soft and delicate, so like her. I froze, steeling myself to not show the betrayal I still felt. She was his, my best friend's girlfriend. I didn't move, save to roll the crystal between my hands.

"What are you doing?"

Slowly, very slowly, I turned to face her. My eyes devoured her; she was so very beautiful. I dragged my eyes back to her face, wondering if she even understood a tenth of what I was feeling. "Thinking."

"No, Wes. Don't lie to me." She started skirting the room, edging around the circle of candles. "What are you doing?"

"I told you, thinking." I turned as well, following her movements. Watching her move reminded me of my brief fantasy of her dancing at the ballet. But that thought brought her betrayal back to my mind. Intellectually, I knew it wasn't a betrayal; I had never told her of my feelings. Yet, to my heart, it felt that way.

"Of what?"

I smiled briefly. She was so curious. I watched her, the candlelight softening her even more, as she stood between me and the French doors. "Magic. Destiny. Hopeless, broken dreams," I answered.

"What do ya mean?" She stepped closer to the circle. Close enough now that I could touch her if I wished. Her wide brown eyes stared at me, echoing her question and asking others.

"Doesn't matter, does it?" I stepped back away from her, so that I now stood in the center of the circle. I could feel the power humming around me, waiting to be used, calling to me.

"Wesley?"

Her soft voice made a question of my name. I laughed softly in response. "You never noticed, did you? Never saw me." I shifted the crystal in my hands, the words to the spell so close. I wanted to say them, end this ridiculous conversation. I just wanted to forget everything: the pain, the fear, the love.

"I noticed. I saw." She tilted her head, one hand rising to twist a strand of hair with her fingers.

"Did you, Fred?" I stilled completely, watching her. Some deep, secret part of me wanted to believe her so badly, believe that she had noticed me, perhaps even wanted me. I knew better. I was just her friend. I would never be her lover the way I so desperately wanted to be.

"I did." She moved closer to the circle, stopping just behind one of the candles. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to come closer, but she didn't. She just stood there staring. "I saw. I saw how you watched me. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

"Then why are you with him!" I cried. I wanted to know, had to know. How could she do that to me, tear my heart out like that? "You kissed him, Fred. I saw it. Saw how you caressed him, smiled at him. Do you know how much that hurt?"

"Cordy said. . ."

"Don't blame it on Cordelia," I snapped at her. "You did it, Fred. Cordelia didn't stand over you with a gun and say kiss him. Now did she? No, of course not." I turned away, forcing down the pain and anger. "She and I have already had this discussion. How she managed to give me such hope only to have it dashed by the two of you."

"Wes?"

"Shut up!" I snapped again. "Just shut up, Fred. Go to him. You're his now." I forced the emotion from my voice, trying to calm down. "I never had a single chance. Should have known better than to believe. "

"No! Wesley…"

"Go!" I growled at her, "Just go." I felt it then, her hand on my back. She had entered the circle. I could feel her, sense her. She was so close, so warm and alive. She was my love, even if she didn't know it. I softened, relaxing under that touch, all the pain dispelled by that simple action.

I reached behind me, grasping her wrist with one of my hands, and turned to face her. I still held the crystal with my other hand, shifting that arm out so the quartz wouldn't touch her. "Do you know what you've done, Winifred?"

She stared at me for a moment, then glanced away at the candles surrounding us. "I touched you. But that isn't what you meant, is it?"

"No, that's not what I meant." I bowed my head, unnerved by the fact that she had managed to cross the circle I had cast. I was equally gratified that I had gotten no further in the spell I had been contemplating than that single step. Raising my eyes to her, I released her wrist, taking a step back to look at her. "How did you cross the circle, Fred?"

The part of me that was still Watcher desperately wanted to know the answer, a deep-seated fear taking hold that this wasn't my beautiful Winifred but a demon sent to torment me. The part of me that was all male wanted to know for far, far simpler reasons. As I watched, she shook her head, her hair tumbling about her, tempting me to tangle my hands in it, hold her still by that grasp.

"I wanted to." She stated, simply, "I wanted to touch you, be with you. Wesley, what's going on?"

Her bewildered question startled me, organized my chaotic thoughts, calmed me again when nothing else would have. Around us, everything had stilled. There was an anticipation in the air, as if everything I ever wanted was suddenly within my reach. All I had to do was grasp it. I drew in a breath, gathering my thoughts before answering her. "To be honest, I don't know any longer," I murmured. "Why did you come here, Fred? To this room? At this moment?" While I watched, Fred looked about the shadowed room, her eyes wide and dark, taking in everything around us. Something was changing, I knew that, and from the look on her face when she looked at me, Fred did, as well.

"The music. I followed it." She spoke softly, wonderingly, as if she didn't know quite what had happened to her. Fred looked down at the floor for a moment, then back at me. "She told me to come, to find you. She said you needed me." Her hand reached to one side, resting on the crystal I still held and, to my surprise, it seemed to shimmer for a moment, a faint, pearlescent glow.

I dragged my eyes from the crystal to Fred; stepping closer to her, I reached out my hand to trail my fingers down her cheek. Her skin was so soft beneath my fingers, and she leaned into my caress like a cat. I knew, suddenly and irrevocably, that she was meant for me, that the Powers Themselves were willing to intervene to make sure of it.

Ancient rituals, another part of my training that I had nearly forgotten, made me shift back enough to kneel on the floor before her. I heard her gasp and couldn't quite resist the smile that came as a result of it. I shifted the crystal, setting it to rest in its small, silver-gilt stand beside us. Reaching up, I grasped her hands with my own, caressing her wrists with my thumbs, and tried to think of how to explain what I felt, what had drawn her here. . . to me. Before I could say a word, she tightened her clasp on my hands, entwining our fingers and stared down at me. I could sense that she was about to say something and shook my head, silencing her.

"Miritas." I murmured the word in a whisper, barely audible, knowing that she wouldn't know its meaning for that had been lost to time save amongst some of the most secretive of societies. I paused for a moment, the knowledge of just how binding oaths given and received here within this sacred space sharp in my mind; however, that didn't stop me from asking the question, the deepest wish of my heart. "Winifred, here in this space outside of time, watched by the Powers Themselves, will you be mine?" She stared at me, somewhat blankly, and I stifled my urge to chuckle, to continue with the solemnity suited to the occasion. "I'm asking you to belong to me, to be my wife for now, always and forever."

I watched her eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment I feared she would reject me. I didn't know if I could handle that, to be rejected by her after the Powers Themselves had guided her to me. Just when I thought I couldn't take the waiting any longer, Fred nodded; however, that wasn't enough, not here . . . not now. She tried to tug me to my feet, but I resisted her. I needed to hear her say it, to say the words. To say that she was mine. "Say it," I hissed at her.

"Yours." She whispered the word, staring down at me. "However you want me, I'm yours."

This time I allowed her to pull me to my feet. I dropped her hands, tangling mine into her thick, soft hair and held her head still, ensuring that she looked at me. Slowly, I lowered my head, giving her every chance to pull away before I brushed her lips with my own. Pulling back enough to look into her eyes, I spoke softly but clearly, first in Latin:. "Si dis placet, daro tu meus kor, meus anima. Quando catervas meus, catero tuus, et nunc et semper. Nemo nisi mors. Dixi." Then in English: "If it pleases the gods, I give to you my heart, my soul. As you are mine, I am yours, now and forever. No one except death will part us. For I have spoken.'"

I felt it, the snap of power, heard the soft laughter that echoed in the night as Fred watched me with her wide, dark eyes. To my surprise, she rose on her toes, kissing me lightly, innocently. That simple gesture told me much, much more than she knew or guessed. It had not been an innocent kiss that she'd laid on Gunn the week before, but it had been impulsive. Chuckling, I stroked one hand through her hair, dropping it to her waist to pull her to me. "My Winifred," I murmured, kissing her again. Reluctantly, I pulled back enough to allow her to breathe and watched her eyes as I lightly ran my fingers over her body, delighting in her soft gasps. Slowly, I traced what skin I could reach, until impatient, I grabbed a handful of her hair, dragging her to me and kissing her with all the repressed emotions of the last weeks.

I felt it then, the moment she surrendered to me, going all soft and pliant in my arms. She trembled against me, her arms rising to wrap around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair. The need, desire, for her swept through me, leaving me desperate for her: her touch, her taste. I dragged myself away from her, again staring into her so deep eyes, silently asking permission, seeking an answer. I found it, buried there in her wide dark eyes, shining there like a beacon to my soul.

Freed from restraint at last, my hands swept over her, even as I dragged her to the floor with me. I didn't want her to think, to question, I wanted her to feel. She was so generous, so giving, denying me nothing. Her soft, broken cries echoed in the room around us as I tasted her, so sweet. I needed her, to hear the desperation in her voice and shifted, gazing over her now naked body, gilded in soft candleglow. She was soft, slim, graceful as a dream and oh, so responsive. Shifting over her, bracing myself on my arms above her, I lowered my head to nuzzle her neck, pressing kisses to her heated skin, loving the taste of her. "Come for me, miritas," I murmured in her ear. Her arms twined about me, clutching me to her even as I buried myself in her. I felt her nails dig into my skin, clenching on me, and groaned desperately even as I heard her sharp, gasping cry.

Exhausted, I collapsed against her, resting for a moment, before gathering her to me and rolling us both over. She lay there, limply sprawled on my chest, panting softly. I stroked her hair, reveling in the fact that she was mine. Holding her, I knew that some things required no magic, just a willing heart. Even as the thought flitted through my mind, soft laughter echoed in the room; the candles dimmed for a brief moment even as the crystal glimmered. Smiling, accepting both the gift and the knowledge, I whispered my thanks. Fred shifted then, squirming about in a most delightful way until she could look at me.

"Wesley?"

"Hmm?" I wanted to sleep, but knew this wasn't exactly the place to do it. Yet, more than that I wanted Fred with me. Relaxed and happy for the first time in ages, I waited to see what she wanted.

"What have you been calling me?" She seemed genuinely curious, much to my surprise. "It sounds almost Latin, but the accent's wrong."

That was my Fred, always learning from something. Chuckling at the thought, then again at her affronted look, I shifted so that I was sitting with her in my lap. "It's not Latin. It's far older than that. It means 'my beloved heart.'"

"Is that what I am to you?" She asked softly, ducking her head as if afraid to look at me.

"You are," I murmured, pulling her back into my arms. I nuzzled her hair, keeping the words soft and gentle. "Very much so. I have loved you for a long time. And seeing. . . " I broke off suddenly afraid to bring up her kiss with Gunn. She startled me by laughing.

"I wasn't entirely honest earlier." She shifted away from me, off my lap to sit beside me. "She, this odd female voice, did tell me to where to find you, that you needed me." She reached up, cupping my cheek and making me look at her. "But Charles was the one who told me to find you, that you and I were meant to be. Neither of us really understood that kiss. Yes, there was an attraction there, but not enough for me to kiss him." She came closer, so close that I could feel her breath on my face as she spoke again. "It was always you I wanted to kiss, Wesley."

I gathered her into my arms, pulling her into my kiss and feeling her passionate response. I was shifting, to lay her back on the floor, when a masculine chuckle, followed by a feminine gasp, came from the still open door. Raising my head, releasing Fred's sweet mouth, I looked at the door. There stood Cordelia and Gunn. Cordy was bright red, but Gunn was chuckling. He smiled at me, then grabbed Cordy's arm, stating, "I don't think they need us, so we'll just head out. Night, Fred. . . English."

Mortally embarrassed, I rested my forehead on Fred's, smiling at her. She started laughing, and I wondered why she was. "Miritas, what's so funny?"

"You." She giggled again, then continued. "Oh, Wesley. Is it real?"

I knew what she meant immediately: our feelings and the small ceremony I had performed. "Yes, very." I stroked her cheek with a finger, smiling broadly at her. "But it's not. . . um. . . "

"Legal?"

"Right." I shifted, rising to my feet, and held a hand out to her. "Marry me? In front of everyone, too?"

"Of course." She flung herself into my arms, and I twirled her about for a moment before sobering. Setting her on her feet, I glanced around the circle, gesturing, feeling the energies making up the circle slowly melt away. Gathering up my clothes and the crystal, I kissed her lightly. "I think we should find a far more comfortable place to stay tonight before I ravish you again."

"Wesley!" She mocked-screamed at me before gathering her own things. We dressed then, stealing kisses and touches as we did so.

Taking her hand, I headed for the door, surprised when she paused, looking back over her shoulder. She stood there for a moment, head tilted as if listening to something, then surprised me by saying, very softly, "Thank you. I will."

Curious now, I turned to look myself. What I saw shocked me: an angelic-looking little girl with bright blue eyes and long dark curls stared back at me. As I watched, she reached up, taking the hand of a shimmering female form who picked her up to settle her on Her hip. Both waved at me, and the little girl spoke briefly in a high, piping voice, "Take care of Mummy. Love you, Daddy." I blinked, shocked and surprised, as she and the woman, who I knew somehow was one of the Powers Themselves, disappeared.

To say that I was shocked was an understatement. I knew that my eyes were wide as I turned to Fred. She laughed at me for a moment, then smiled. "It's all right, Wesley. We have time now." Tugging on my hand, she led me out of the room, soft, girlish giggles echoing in the empty room as we left.

~Fin~