Soulmates:
Meant To Be
by Lara

SUMMARY: Fred and Wesley find out that they share more than just love for each other.

RATING: FRT [V] [AU]

SPOILERS: "Waiting in the Wings," but not much else, I think.

DISCLAIMER: I only wish I were as successful as Joss Whedon. He and Mutant Enemy own this; I just write fanfic for fun while waiting for my own big break.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So there I was, watching the cortege procession through London after the Queen Mum's funeral when suddenly Wesley and Fred started talking to me about the places in the city they've been. Suddenly, I was writing a story I had never intended to write. But when characters insist, I learned long ago to listen...

FEEDBACK:Very much appreciated. Please e-mail lara@darling-moon.com. Flames, however, will be used to fuel the fire in Wesley’s next spell casting session.

DEDICATION: To my partner-in-crime, Minion

“Fred?”

At the sound of the familiar British accent saying her name, Winifred Burkle looked up from her computer in the Hyperion Hotel’s back office. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce stood before her, a small package in his hand, that somewhat shy smile she knew so well turning up the corners of his mouth.

“What’s up, Wes?” she asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“This just arrived for you,” he told her. “It appears to be from your parents.”

“Oh...they said they would be sending me somethin’. Wouldn’t tell me what, though.”

Reaching out, she took the package from Wesley and set it down on the desk in front of her. She loved getting surprises. However, when she began tearing at the plain brown paper, it only turned into a struggle with the mounds of packing tape around it.

“You would think my mother didn’t want me to get into this.”

“Here...let me help.” Wesley hurried over to his desk and found a pair of scissors, then sat down beside her. As Fred continued trying to open the package, he snipped the troublesome tape as she instructed.

“Finally,” she said, pulling the paper completely away.

Only to find a box inside similarly covered.

“Oh, Mom.” She gave up and handed it to Wesley. “Would you?”

“Of course.” Using the scissors like a letter opener, Wes quickly slit the tape along the flap openings. “There you are.”

“Thanks.”

Fred slid the box back over and opened the flaps to look inside. There was a small package of bubble wrap protecting something, a couple of books and a photo album. As she pulled the items out, a note fluttered onto the table. Picking it up, she read it silently, a gentle smile crossing her face.

“What does it say?” Wes asked.

“’Dearest Winifred - Wanted to send you something we thought might help with your continued readjustment to normal life. We know these things meant a lot to you. Talk to you soon. Much love, Mom and Dad.’”

Wesley couldn’t help but smile himself. Fred was so lucky to have such supportive and loving parents. While his own mother had always cared about him and had done everything she could for him, his father had always been rather cruel and distant, no matter what Wesley did to try to make him proud. He would have given anything for his family to have been like Fred’s.

Meanwhile, Fred was touched by her parents’ gesture. Getting used to life here again had been so hard, and it had been their visit - and the confrontation with them - that had finally broken the shell she had built up to protect herself from having to face the reality of what had happened to her. She wondered what exactly they had sent and looked first at the two books. Upon reading the titles, she let out a laugh.

This immediately drew Wesley’s attention back to her. He glanced at the books, a confused expression crossing his features. “The complete works of Hans Christian Anderson and the Brothers Grimm?” After what Fred had been through, they seemed a strange choice for someone trying to return to normalcy.

“I know...but I used to love reading these when I was child. I think my mother thought they would remind me of that.” Setting the books aside, she took the bubble-wrap packet and carefully opened it. Inside was a cross pendant on a chain.

“That’s beautiful,” Wes told her.

“Mom and Dad gave it to me on my confirmation day.” She held it out to him. “Help me put it on?”

Wesley took the pendant and wrapped his arms around her to hold it front of her while Fred held her long hair up off her neck. As he fastened the clasp around her neck, he moved so close that he could smell the wonderful scent of her shampoo. He wanted so much to place a kiss at the base of her neck before she dropped her hair back down.

Stop it, Wesley, he chastised himself. She’s going out with Gunn. She chose him, not you.

Fred let go of her hair. “Thank...” She turned slightly and found herself looking straight into his eyes. “...you.”

They sat like that for a long moment, inches apart. If one of them moved, they both knew what might happen. But they couldn’t. They knew that. They couldn’t...

Finally, Wesley found the self-control to pull back, clearing his throat like he always did when he was embarrassed. They needed something to divert their attention from what had just happened. He tapped a finger on the photo album. “Can I see the pictures in here?”

“Of course,” Fred said, glad to have the distraction. Her heart had been beating so fast when Wesley had been so close. She didn’t understand why. She loved Wesley, but she was dating Gunn. She and Wesley were just friends...just friends...

Inside the album were photos from Fred’s childhood. Pictures from when she was a baby, with lots of brown hair even back then. Pictures from her first day of kindergarten, standing with her mother in front of the school building, a large smile on her face. Pictures from family vacations...

“I didn’t know you’ve been to the United Kingdom,” Wesley stated in surprise when he saw the picture of young Fred in front of Buckingham Palace.

“Yeah. I think I was about seven. I had been marked for the gifted program in my school in Texas, and my parents decided it was important they expand my horizons, so they took me to England for summer vacation.” Fred smiled as she gazed at the pictures. “I think that was the best trip we ever took.”

Turning the pages, they found more pictures from the vacation to England. Madame Tussaud’s with Fred hugging several of the wax portraits, including Tom Baker’s Doctor Who. The London Zoo with Fred and her parents in front of different animal enclosures. Several museums, such as the British Museum and the Natural History Museum.

And Windsor Castle. There were pictures of Fred sitting on the lawn watching the changing of the guards. But it was the last one that really caught Wesley’s attention. Fred was standing with a boy about five years older with brown hair and glasses in front of the King Henry the Eighth Gate. His breath almost caught in his throat. He couldn’t believe it.

“Who...who’s that?” he asked.

Fred studied the picture. “I can’t remember his name. British boy. He was on the Castle tour with his mother, and we spent the day together.” She glanced from the picture to Wesley and back again. “You know...he looks a bit like you.”

“Yeah...he does, doesn’t he?”

“Wouldn’t that have been funny? To find out that we met way back then...like us knowing each other was meant to be or somethin’.”

“Yeah...”

Before he could say anything more, Gunn stuck his head in the office. “Hey, there you are. Hi, English. Are you ready to go, Fred? The movie starts in a bit.”

Staring at Wesley, Fred nodded and slowly shut the album. “Let me take this stuff up to my room.”

“Okay.”

“See you later, Wes,” she said as she gathered her stuff up.

Wesley nodded and watched Gunn and Fred leave. Then, he walked over to his desk to sit down, a thoughtful look on his face. Like us knowing each other was meant to be... Reaching into the top drawer in his desk, he pulled out a battered old cigar box he had appropriated from his father when he had been about ten. Ever since, he had used it to keep some of his most treasured possessions, including several photographs, which he now took out to rifle through until he found the one he was searching for.

The same picture that Fred had in her album, from a slightly different angle. Turning it over, he read the inscription in his mother’s neat handwriting, “Wesley and nice American girl, Windsor Castle, 2 August 1982.”

During the summer break between his sixth and seventh year in school, his mother had decided that they needed a respite from his father and had taken him to London for a mini holiday. He had always remembered meeting the young American girl while visiting Windsor Castle that day but, like Fred, had never remembered her name.

Until today.

“Us knowing each other was meant to be...” he whispered, gently running his fingernail over the image of young Fred.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there in his office, staring at the picture. It was only when he heard Gunn’s voice yelling from the lobby that he was startled out of his reverie.

“English! Fred needs your help! Wesley, where are you?!”

At the mention of Fred’s name, Wesley was out of his chair in a flash, running for the lobby. Gunn was supporting Fred against him with an arm around her shoulder as she hobbled on one leg, her head lolling slightly. Wesley felt as though his heart was being squeezed in a vice when he saw her.

“What happened?” he cried, crossing over and helping Gunn to sit Fred down on the circular lobby couch.

“Demon attacked us outside the theater while we were talking. Had some kind of scythe. He slashed Fred’s leg before I could get him with my gun. I think the scythe was poisoned.”

“Oh, God...” Wesley lifted up the skirt of the dress Fred wore and almost retched when he saw the gash on her calf. “Quickly, Gunn, what did the demon look like?”

“I don’t know...grey skin, I think...”

“Damn it, I need to know exactly which demon. Otherwise, Fred might die!”

“Umm...grey skin. Red hair. And some kind of jewel-looking thing in the middle of his forehead.”

“What color?”

“Black!”

Wesley recognized the demon and knew the kind of poison they used in attacking their victims. “Keep her legs down...it’ll slow the movement of the poison in her blood. I’ll be right back!”

Not sure how he was managing to keep his head together, Wesley hurried down to the storeroom where he kept his supplies. He had to find the jars of Evergreen bark and powdered witch hazel.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered as he moved things around, his hands shaking. “Where are you?”

Finally, he found jars. He almost dropped them as he pulled them off the shelf but caught them and held them tight. He couldn’t afford to lose them. He couldn’t afford to lose Fred.

Running back upstairs, he went to the coffee machine they kept on for visitors. Taking one of the mugs, he emptied some of the bark and witch hazel into it, then grabbed the pot of hot water and poured it in to make a tea.

“How is she?” he asked, hurrying back to Gunn and Fred.

Gunn shook his head in uncertainty. “I’m not sure. She’s still breathing, but...”

Sitting down, he wrapped his free arm around Fred to bring her head up. God, she looked so pale. He put the mug to her lips. “Fred...Fred, love, you need to drink this. Come on.”

“Wesley...?” Her voice sounded weak.

“I’m here. Drink this.” He tipped the mug up to help Fred as she slowly swallowed about half of the contents. “Okay, that’s a good girl. Gunn, go get the first aid kit.”

As the younger man went to find the kit, Wesley took what was left of the tea and poured it on Fred’s leg.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Gunn asked as he returned with the first aid kit.

Wesley opened the kit and took out the things he needed to bind up her wound. “She should be. But she’s going to need to rest for a few days.”

“Thank God. I don’t know what we would have done with you, English.”

He didn’t even want to consider that, instead focusing on binding up the wound. But his gaze kept going back up to Fred’s face. Her color was returning, much to his relief.

“I would never let anything happen to you,” he whispered.

*****

“Up for company?”

Fred looked up from her book as she lay in bed up in her room. “Come on in, Charles.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked. He walked inside the door but remained standing next to the bed.

“Better,” she told him. “Lucky Wesley knew about the demon that attacked us.”

“That’s for sure.” He paused and considered her for a few moments. “Look, Fred...is everything okay with us? You know...after what we talked about before the demon...you know...?”

Smiling gently, Fred nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Gunn reached out and squeezed her hand, then let go. “I’ll see you later.”

After he left, Fred went back to reading her book. Her mom was right...the stories were somewhat comforting, even given the outlandish and strange things that happened to her and her friends. Maybe because in many instances, there were reminders that life could have happy endings.

“Knock, knock.”

Closing her book, Fred smiled at her new visitor. “Come in, Wes.”

“You’re definitely looking better,” he said, crossing over and sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Thanks to you.”

Looking down, Wesley blushed. “I just did what I had to do. I couldn’t let you die, you know.”

“I know.” Reaching over, she put her hand on his cheek and brought his face up to look at her. “But still...you saved my life.”

Leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek, then pulled back slightly to look at him. Their eyes locked for several moments.

“I must admit something,” he finally told her, breaking the spell between them. “When Gunn brought you in the other night, I realized that I had to tell you. You know that boy you met at Windsor Castle? The one you said looked like me? That...that was me.”

“I know.” She reached over to her side table where the photo album was sitting. Opening it to the page, she pulled the picture out of its protective covering and turned it over.

On the back was written, “Windsor Castle, August 2, 1982: Fred with new friend Wesley.”

“I had never looked at the back of that picture until last night,” she told him.

“And that’s when you figured out that was me.”

“No...I knew in the office when I saw your face, the way you reacted to seeing the picture. Finding my mother’s inscription last night just confirmed it.”

Reaching over, Wesley cupped her cheek and rubbed it with his thumb. Fred leaned into his touch, closing her eyes momentarily. When she opened them again, unable to help it anymore, they moved together again and kissed. At first, the kiss was gentle, their lips barely touching. However, as the moments passed, the kiss deepened, became more passionate. Wesley’s hand came up to run through her hair.

Suddenly, he broke away with a gasp. “I can’t...we can’t...you’re dating Gunn...I can’t-.”

Fred stopped him by laying her index finger on his lips. “It’s okay. Charles and I decided...that we...we should just be friends.”

“What?” he asked in surprise. “I...I thought...”

“I realized something the other day,” she said. “That there’s someone I can talk to, who understands me even when I seem to be babbling. Someone who would never let anything happen to me. Someone whom I love very much...and he’s not Charles.”

As she said this, Wesley suddenly found his heart beating faster. Was she saying...? “Fred...”

“I love you, Wesley. And Charles realized that, too. When I choose him, started dating him, part of me loved him, but part of me was trying to protect myself. I didn’t think I could bear it if we didn’t work out. But when something is meant to be...”

Wesley smiled. “Then it’ll find a way. I love you, too.”

Leaning forward, he kissed her again. And this time, he didn’t have to worry about kissing his friend’s girl...about having feelings for his friend’s girl. Because he was kissing the girl he loved, who loved him back.

Let the demons come. This was meant to be.

© April 2002

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