Series Title: The Amends Series

First Chapter: The Quest for Amends

Author: Tonya (tigerlily1998@hotmail.com)

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: My birth certificate reads neither Joss Whedon nor Mutant Enemy so I'm gonna have to say I don't own the characters in any way.

Spoilers: All of Season 3 AtS.

Distribution: Feel free. Just tell me where.

Summary: A paranormal case brings friends-turned-enemies together.

Author's Note: This is a follow-up to "Keep Your Friends Close." (Which means it's still AU—Connor is still missing and "Tomorrow" never happened, except for Lilah/Wes sex.) And big BIG thanks to Kel—for being the world's best beta!!

**********

Wesley sat at his kitchen table, staring at the calculator and checkbook that lay out before him. He had never been so depressed by the sight of a bunch of numbers in his life.

Income had been scarce ever since he parted ways with Angel Investigations. Not that the income had ever been great, but at least he had been able to live off of it. He had sold a few journal entries on demon languages, but those had only gotten him so far. He had to pay rent. He had to eat. He had to live….

"You can keep staring, but it's not gonna change," Faith teased as she stepped into the kitchen, munching on an apple. She sat down across from him as a smile formed at the corners of his lips.

"Ever get the feeling that the world hates you?" he asked.

Faith nodded, grinning, "Every damn day."

Wesley sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Wolfram and Hart doesn't sound too bad right about now," he smiled ruefully.

"Tell me about it. Think they'd hire a rogue Slayer?"

Wesley shook his head at her, chuckling quietly.

"Seriously," Faith replied, munching at her apple. "Think they would?"

Wesley raised an eyebrow at the girl, and she laughed back.

"I need to find something fairly soon…." he sighed.

"Why not just get paid to do something you're good at?"

"Like what?" Wesley frowned.

"Hello? What the hell were you doing before you hit the unemployment line?"

"That was different," Wesley replied, his frown only deepening. "We were… we were a team."

"It doesn't have to be different. I mean, we could be a team. You're the brains. I'm the muscle. It's so perfect, it's scary."

"No, Faith, it's just scary," Wesley smiled crookedly.

"I'm just sayin'. We'd bring in tons of money…."

Wesley raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, and help people too," she added quickly with a grin. "Priorities, you know."

"Faith…." Wesley sighed, sitting back in his chair.

"Look, we can make some fliers. Post them in places where they'll reach the people we're looking for…."

"Faith, we don't even have an office."

"Who says you have to have an office?" Faith said, finishing off her apple. "We'll put a phone number on the flier, and when they call, we can just set up a meeting. Why make things more difficult than they have to be?"

Wesley couldn't hide the look of amused astonishment on his face. "When did you become the polished entrepreneur?"

"About the time when I realized I was *this close* to donning a paper hat and a spatula," Faith smirked. "Give me some demon blood and guts any day, but I don't do the Doublemeat Palace."

"I suppose we all have our limits."

"So, what do ya say? Will I be spending the rest of my young life asking, 'Do you want fries with that?' or are we going to form our own little demon-slaying agency?"

"The Wyndham-Pryce Agency does have a certain ring to it, doesn't it?" Wesley smiled.

"Yeah, if you're interested in having a stuffy British guy bore the demon the death," Faith scoffed.

"I beg your pardon," he replied, slightly offended. "You have a better idea?"

"Hell yeah I do," Faith said, getting up to toss her apple core into the trash. "Look, I'll handle the name. You just get on that little laptop of yours and start making us some fliers."

"And now you're ordering me around?" he chuckled.

"Well, somebody has to kick your ass into gear." She smiled, punching his arm lightly as she walked out of the kitchen.

Alone, Wesley laughed quietly to himself before turning his gaze back to his checkbook. With a determined nod, he closed it. Gathering his calculator and checkbook, he started off towards his bedroom to grab his laptop.

*********

Faith sat at the kitchen table, staring intently at the portable phone that lay before her. She frowned and tapped her finger on the table, frustrated.

It had been three days since Wesley had printed up the fliers and they had distributed them around the city. Three days and no responses. Faith wasn't sure how much more she could take. She was getting antsy. She needed a good fight, anything to get rid of her overwhelming pent-up energy. And staring at a non-ringing phone was not cutting it.

"Are you expecting it to do a trick?" Wesley teased as he strolled towards the refrigerator.

"Funny," she mumbled, her eyes never leaving the phone.

"Ever hear the expression the watched pot never boils?"

"Ever hear the expression don't tease a Slayer?" she grumbled, raising an irritated eyebrow at him.

Wesley retrieved a bottled water from the fridge and shut the door. He leaned against the door, sipping from the bottle. Before he could respond to Faith's threat, the phone rang.

Faith gave him an I-told-you-so look as she reached for it.

"Rogue Investigations," she said. "You summon 'em. We slay 'em."

Wesley rolled his eyes. "I must change that motto immediately."

Grabbing her notepad off the table, Faith scribbled feverishly as she spoke with their first potential client.

"Sure, we hear this kind of crap all the time," she said, writing. "No, we really don't have an office but maybe there's somewhere else you'd like to meet…. Uh-huh…. 310 West Magnolia…. Apartment 12…. Okay, we'll be there in twenty minutes or so."

Faith hung up the phone, a triumphant smile on her face. Grabbing her notepad, she approached Wesley and nudged him gently with the edge of the notepad.

"We got a case. Girl cast a spell, and accidentally released something."

"Something?"

Faith shrugged, dismissing his inquiry with a wave of her hand. "She doesn't know what exactly. Look, we're wasting valuable money-making time. So, let's go meet her so you can figure out what the hell she raised, and then I can go kick its demon ass."

"Eager much?"

"Wesley," Faith replied, grabbing the front of his T-shirt in her hand. "If I don't get some action soon, well—let's just say that I get quite explosive."

Wesley swallowed hard in response.

Faith released his shirt from her grip, smoothing it down his chest before walking away from him. As she crossed the kitchen threshold, she called over her shoulder, "Are you coming or what?"

Wesley cleared his throat before starting after her, bottled water in hand