Timeline: One year after Connor's birth, but an alternate ending from that event. No Holtz, no portals, no Quar-toth.

Author's Notes: First off, fair warning. This is not a Fred-friendly fic. (Don't get me wrong, I like Fred, but I'm not kind to her in the few parts she shows up in.) Secondly, all references to India (pronounced In-dee-uh, emphasis on second syllable) Cohen and Christopher "Kit" Bothwell come from the BtVS novel "The Book of Fours." Lastly, this is completely un-beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

Pale, slim fingers spanned the smooth wood of the door. She took a small step inside the doorway, quietly observing the man at the desk. "You risked your life to save mine."

He looked up, startled. It took a few seconds for him to recover his composure, but eventually he leaned back in his chair, watching her closely. "It's been three years. Those are the only words you could think of to say to me?"

She refused to be sidetracked. "You hated me, but you took a chance on me. I've had three years to think about what I did, Wes, and that was the thought that never left me. Why'd you do it?"

Wesley sighed. "Faith, it wasn't a matter of choice. Angel trusted you, felt you had a chance at redemption. Despite my personal feelings on the matter, I trusted Angel implicitly. If he thought you were worth the risk, I did too."

Faith sat down in the chair in front of him. She cocked her head inquisitively. "I wasn't. Just to let you know."

Wesley gave her a half-smile. "Surely you don't believe that," he chided her gently. "Look how far you've come in the past three years. Had we not taken the risk, you'd very likely be dead by now."

"Maybe I should be," Faith said bluntly. She eyed him. "Maybe I haven't come so far in those three years as you think I have."

"I don't agree," Wesley said simply.

Faith leaned forward, bracing her arms on the desk. She stared him dead in the eye. "I haven't. Right now, I'm dying to drive a knife right through your pompous British heart."

Though Wesley visibly flinched, he maintained his composure. "I simply refuse to believe that," he said, shrugging casually.

Faith held her tense pose for a minute before releasing a musical laugh. "You grew balls, Wes," she said in admiration, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. "I knew that when I was carving you up with a piece of broken glass, but now it's like a lifestyle choice. Kick ass for you," she said, giving him a slight nod.

Wesley let out a quiet sigh. "I'm not entirely sure I should take that as a compliment," he said dryly.

Faith grinned at him. "You should," she promised him. She gave him a thoughtful look. "How'd you know about me?" she asked after a minute. "How I'd changed, what I was like? You were so damn sure you were right about me, even though I'd never given you any reason to believe I'm a good little Slayer again."

Wesley laughed, a full laugh, for the first time since he'd seen Faith standing there. "Faith, you were *never* a 'good little Slayer,' you were always testing the limits," he snickered.

Faith grinned ruefully. "True," she conceded. "But are you gonna answer my question?"

Wesley paused. "I asked Angel," he said finally. "I knew he made the visits to the prison, and I also knew that Cordelia wasn't the least bit interested whether or not you were doing okay. I thought Angel would like to share his news with someone, so I volunteered."

"Gotcha."

Wesley smiled slightly when he looked at her. "He was so very proud of you, did you know that?" he asked softly. "Every time he came back from a visit with you, he was so happy. He would tell me how I wouldn't regret giving you a chance. He would tell me how you would prove both of us right. Three years later, here you are."

Faith's smile faltered. "I'm not exactly sure about that, but we'll see how things go," she said, forcing a cheerfulness she didn't entirely feel.

Wesley gave her a gentle smile, but declined to respond. They regarded each other for a few silent moments before he asked his next question. "How did you get released?"

She gave him a sheepish look. "One of Mayor Wilkins' old underlings, who knew how much I meant to the Boss, was looking out for me. He hired a lawyer to get me a reduced sentence, which he did 'cause of some technical loophole with my confession. My sentence got dropped to seven years, then I got paroled. Time off for good behavior. Who'd'a thought it, huh?"

He looked at her thoughtfully. "It doesn't surprise me, Faith. In the entire time I've known you, you've never backed down from any challenge. Prison was the biggest challenge of them all. You only had two ways to go."

"And I went the right way."

"That you did."

They smiled at each other. It was a comfortable silence that was broken when Fred burst into the office. "Wes, you'll never believe-!" She came to an abrupt halt when she saw Faith. "Uh, hi."

His eyes never leaving Faith's face, Wesley addressed her. "Fred, this is Faith."

Fred blinked at the other woman, then stuck her hand out. "Hi, Faith. I'm Fred."

Faith regarded her in amusement. "Yeah, I kinda got that when Wes called you Fred."

Flustered, Fred turned her attention to Wesley, trying to ignore Faith. "Okay, so this maybe isn't the best time, but I thought I'd tell you that Connor is walking."

Wesley sat upright, his eyes bright. "Really? How wonderful." He started to stand up, gesturing to Faith as he rose. "Come with us."

Not quite sure what the fuss was about, and completely confused as to who Connor was, Faith didn't argue as she followed Wesley and Fred into the lobby.

She blinked when she saw the toddler taking mincing steps on wobbly legs toward Angel's outstretched arms. She was baffled when she saw the ear-to-ear grin on Angel's face, mirrored on Cordelia's as she stood next to him, bent at the waist with her hands braced on her knees.

Glancing at Wes, she smirked. "Did I step into the freaking Twilight Zone or something?" she mumbled under her breath.

Wesley's eyes rounded in shock. "Angel never told you?"

"Told me what?" Faith demanded, her tone wary.

"Connor is Angel's son, by Darla. By some weird stroke of nature, she got pregnant. She staked herself in order to give him life, and Angel's been the proud father ever since."

Faith couldn't help it; her jaw hung open in surprise. "You're shittin' me," she protested. "Angel has a kid?"

Wesley nodded. "Connor will be a year old next month," he informed her.

Faith hung back as Wesley and Fred approached Angel and Cordelia. Angel never looked up, concentrating instead on his son, but Cordelia glanced over at her coworkers. Her eyes widened when she saw Faith and instinctively, she rushed to Connor and grabbed him up. The boy let out an unhappy squall and Angel gaped at Cordelia.

"What the hell was that about?" he asked in bewilderment.

Cordelia glared at Faith. "Ask the psycho bitch standing on the other side of the room," she gritted out.

Angel swung around to see Faith looking uncomfortable. "Look, Angel Boy, if it's gonna be that huge a deal, I'll motor. I got other places to go," she lied. "Just thought I'd come check the place out, give you the skinny on my unexpected lack of incarceration. But I can split."

Angel smiled at her, casting Cordelia a warning glance. "Not a chance, Faith. Stick around, you're more than welcome here."

Faith snorted, gesturing in Cordelia's direction. "Not a unanimous decision, but I'll take the boss's word as final."

Wesley cleared his throat, and Angel shook his head. "I think you already had the boss's word," he remarked. "Considering Wes brought you in here. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't trust you to be around us."

Faith raised surprised eyes to Wesley. "No shit?" she asked. At Wesley's nod of affirmation, she held up a hand for him to high-five. "Kick. You finally got a chance to prove yourself."

Wesley winked at her. "Looks like we both did."