DISCLAIMER: These are not
mine. I lay no claim to them. Joss & co. own all… I am merely a mom SPOILERS: Minor for 'Provider', though little Connor isn't in this
series.
SUMMARY: After the nearly losing Fred, Wes watches her sleep. DISTRIBUTION: Archive permission is hereby granted to: Bookish; A Whole
New World; Strictly Fic; Is It That Obvious? and Inevitable. Anyone else,
please ask. RATING: PG SERIES: Music of the Heart MUSIC: Breathing by Lifehouse FEEDBACK: Much appreciated, please send to: meribeth@aesiraven.com. AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is the third in the 'Music of the Heart' series. I
have to thank Annabelle who recommended this song to me as Wes/Fred tune.
Beta'd by Annabelle.
****
"Alone again," Wes thought turning slowly to
face where Fred lay asleep on one of the sofas. Somehow he understood her
reasoning for sleeping down here where he was still working. She didn't want
to be alone, needing the reassurance of the soft noises that he made while
researching to comfort her now. If their relationship was different, he'd hold
her in his arms, kiss her breathless. Reassure himself that she was still
alive in the oldest way known to man.
Fred shivered, curling tighter in on herself. Wes didn't know if she was
actually cold or if what merely a suppressed emotional reaction but she was
shivering on the sofa. Turning away from her, Wes slipped into his office
retrieving the afghan that was tossed over the back of the office sofa.
Returning to the lobby, he carefully draped the afghan over Fred where she lay
on the couch. Instinctively, she curled into the warmth of the cover, one hand
grabbing the edge and pulling it closer.
Wes knelt on the floor beside her, resting an arm on the edge of the couch and
leaning his cheek against that. He couldn't resist watching her sleep. The
innocence that she projected during the day was accentuated by the way she
slept, curled in on herself with a hand under her cheek, so like a child. He
could have lost her today. It was easy to remember the sight of her bound to
that chair with a sword at her throat. It had scared him to the depths of his
soul. The fear that she would die before he could rescue her haunted him even
now.
Fred's soft slow breathing as she slept calmed Wes, relaxing him, and he
drifted into a hazy state of almost sleep. Just the knowledge that she was
there, sleeping in the lobby allowed him to put the day behind him. To
organize his thoughts, set aside the stress and worry, to dream that perhaps
she did feel about him the way that he did for her.
