Disclaimer: Don't own a thing.  Damn the Powers that Be!

Feedback: I'll love you forever! I'll be your best friend!

Spoilers: Story picks up where Season 3 Angel leaves off

Rating: R, strong R in some places

Written By: Amber

Pairings: mainly Wes/Faith, if you don't like them this probably isn't the story for you.

A/N: I began writing this story right before season 4 began.  I had an outline made and although I'm still writing the story I try to stick to what I wanted, and not base it on what is actually happening this season.  Any similarities are purely coincidental. 

Also, this is the first fiction that I have ever written.  Please keep that in mind while reading.  I've wrote several short works while working on this, but I am still learning.  If you need to leave negative feedback, please do it in a constructive way or I'll cry like a big baby and kill all your favorite characters.  Alrighty then, on to the story!

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He sat alone in his dark apartment.  The quiet, a sound that he used to enjoy was now something that he had just come to tolerate, as it seemed utterly endless.  Wesley ran his hand through his uncombed hair, while holding a scotch in the other hand.  Over and over, he ran the events of the past few months in his head.  He just wished he could forget it all, but the thoughts he wants to forget most are usually the ones that resurface all to frequently in his memory.  Questions that plague him every waking minute, but no answers ever seem to present themselves.  The familiar anxiety and guilt settle into a knot in his stomach as he finishes his scotch, hoping it will dull the pain he feels.  Every night the same, this same ritual. 

            "How could I be such a failure?" he asks himself, hearing his fathers voice.  Maybe his father had been right all along.  Everything he had worked so hard for, trying to prove himself, and now what did he have?  Nothing. It echoed in his head.  First the failure in his position as Watcher, now too where he thought he really belonged, he failed his best friends and those who he had considered his new family. 

            He laughed out loud.  The sound of it caught him off guard.  He was still not used to his new raspiness and was rather shocked at the mere thought of laughing.  "God," he thought, "I'm brooding just like Angel used to."  Then the reality hit him again like a ton of bricks.  "Used to."  It too echoed in his head.  Angel and Cordelia were gone.   Presumably dead.  If Connor hadn't been stolen from him, been taken away, only to come back brainwashed by that fricken prig Holtz then none of this would have happened.  They're gone and it's all my fault, the thought ran through his mind for the ten thousandth time.  He got up and poured himself another scotch.

            Fred and Gunn are still at the hotel trying to carry on the mission and carry on hope.  They keep up the search for Angel, Cordy, and Connor, but Wes had already faced the reality of the situation.  Connor had killed Angel and Cordy and took off.  Anyway, it's not as though they would want his help even if he had held out hope.  They had made it so clear that they put the blame on him. It hurt that no one would hear his story before placing that blame so completely on his shoulders. 

            He really couldn't stand to be around them anyway.  Their sickening sweetness.  Wes would never know how anyone could stand it.   He was so deep in thought in the dark recesses of his mind that he hardly even heard the knock at the door. 

            The knock became louder.  Who would be coming to see me?  he wondered almost aloud.  He pondered whether or not to open it.  Almost scared to see who was on the other side.  Fred?  Lilah?  Uhhg!, he tried to guess.  He was in no mood for either of them.  Hopefully an assassin to put me out of my misery, he thought as he partially swung open the door.

            Whatever he was thinking, this was not it.  He tried to keep his cool, but he was sure that his disheveled appearance and alcohol on his breath left his "composed look" not looking at all what it usually was.  The alcohol he had been drinking for hours seemed to all catch up with him at once and he couldn't manage to develop a single thought as he just stared for a moment.

            "Faith?" he practically whispered it.  He was so shocked to see her he had to lean against the door jam just to make sure he didn't fall over right there.  A million thoughts began racing through his head.  She looked exhausted, but other than that she looked as good as always.   Any man with eyes would agree he was sure.  Her wavy dark hair was a bit longer, but not much else had changed. He studied her face trying to tell her motivation for this visit.  Her lips were almost pouting, and her eyes pleading.  Wesley tried to decide if he should invite her in or not.  He decided he had nothing to lose and swung the door open the rest of the way gesturing her in.   She looked very grateful as she finally spoke.

            "Like the new look Wes.  You have kinda a bad ass thing going there." It was small talk, but she just had no idea what else to say.  She studied him for a moment.  She had never seen him in jeans.  His eyes were dark like a storm, and he looked as though he hadn't shaved for days.  She was shocked to find that she actually thought he was attractive.  She had never thought of him that way before, but she simply wasn't the suit and tie kind of girl.  This new look he has certainly was interesting.  She suddenly noted her silence, and hoped he hadn't noticed her looking at him.  She was certain that she was blushing so she looked down at the floor as she tried to fill the awkward silence again. 

            "So are you ready to get down to business?"  She asked him.  A look of concern came over Wes's face,

            "Excuse me?", his raspiness came through loud and clear this time. 

            "You okay Wes?" Faith asked.  She had almost forgotten about his injuries that the Council had told her about.  He had grown the facial hair probably to cover it up she decided.  It was doing a good job.  She hadn't even noticed the scar until she looked for it, or maybe if I just would stop looking at his ass I would have seen it, she thought.  I've been locked up way to long she decided as she began to wonder if this was the worst idea ever. That all too familiar feeling came over her to run.  She took a deep breath. 

            "What business?" he asked, getting ready to be tortured all over again.  It was obvious by looking at her that two years had past.  The time she spent in jail weighed heavy in her eyes, but the memories of the torture he endured still felt like they happened days ago.  The scars reminding him daily.             

            "They didn't tell you..." her voice trailed off.  "Oh man, I'm so sorry, you must think I'm.. just...the watchers council, they didn't tell you anything?"

            "Apparently they forgot", he said dryly.  Forgot my ass he thought angrily.  I bet they're laughing their asses off right now.  His curiosity growing, he asked her if he could get her anything to drink or eat, offered her a seat and asked for the whole story.  She thankfully sunk down into a chair in his small living room and said she'll have whatever he's having.  He had second thoughts about serving her alcohol, but didn't want to switch at this point to anything else, so he grabbed another glass and poured some out. 

            "Thanks Wes."  She said and began her story.

            It turns out that the Watchers Council had been keeping themselves well informed with the situation of Angel, his child, and all the going ons at Angel Investigations.  Faith had been fully informed of everything that had occurred since her being put away, including Wes's involvement with it all.  The Watchers Council had been concerned with someone called the Destroyer and suspected it to be Angel's son.  It was in the Council's opinion that she had been rehabilitated enough to be trusted on this mission and they saw to her early release.  It seemed they had almost as many contacts as that Wolfram and Hart law firm around here.  Faith didn't trust them, and she was sure the Counsil didn't trust her either, but they thought Buffy was too close to the situation and they probably didn't have anywhere else to turn.  She had been sent on a mission to hunt and kill Connor, but she wasn't ready to tell Wesley that part yet.  She had to see this kid for herself and make her own opinions about him.  She didn't know if she could even kill again.  It made her uneasy just to think about it.  It seemed like lifetimes ago that she looked at human life as nothing.  A guilt washed over her when she looked into Wesley's blue eyes.  They watched and listened so intently as she told her story.  He had openly invited her in, after everything that she had put him through.  After everything that she had done to him.  She wanted to apologize, but she couldn't stand feeling that vulnerable right now. 

            "I told the Watcher's Council that I would only work with you.  You're the only one I trust in this town now that Angel is...", she trailed off again.  She saw the hurt look on his face that he tried to hide.  "Look Wes, I don't think that any of this stuff is your fault.  I just want you to know that."  She was feeling bolder.  He looked at her curiously.

            "And I was wondering...if you think you could...maybe...umm",  

            "Be your watcher?" He finished.  Faith tried to decide if he sounded hopeful or sarcastic.  His tone was hard to discern.

             "Yeah, I guess" she said.  A silence that seemed like an hour to Faith went by.  It was really only seconds though.  "Look I was wrong to come here, I'm sorry," she said grabbing her black jean jacket, probably one of her only belongings.  Wes motioned for her to stop,

            "Of course I'll be your Watcher." he said gently taking the jacket from her hand and laying it over the couch.  Inside he actually felt excitement welling up inside of him.  He imagined this happening over and over in his dreams, but never thought it would actually happen.  He felt like he actually had a purpose again.  

             "Do you have a place to stay?" he asked the raven haired slayer. 

            "I haven't found a place yet." she replied. 

            "It seems to me you have." Wes said as walking to the hall closet for some blankets and a spare pillow.