Wesley Windham-Price walked briskly towards his walk-up, the buidling's door crowded by two girls arguing. The rain was falling down in thick, humid splats. Wesley approached with caution, regocnizing one of the girls immeadiately as living in the appartment across the hall.
"I'm totally not letting you in. Whoever your waiting on, just do it out here...I can totally get in trouble for-"
"Look, it's like pissin' down out here. And he'll be here like any minute, so do me a wicked favour,k?" The voice wavered and was resonant, tripping back and forth through Wesley's memories.
"Ladies, what seems to be the prescient issue?" He looked at them in turn, his eyes lighting on his dark angel, who he had failed as much as she did him. The word tripped from his tongue quietly and reverently...The virtue as woman.
"Faith."
Faith turned to regard her former Watcher, her face blankly slated, the emotions ran from shock,anger, either hope or happiness to complete nothing in a matter of seconds, the exchange inperceptible to Wesley's building mate, who broke the air,
"Well if you know the chick, then whatever. Sorry...I just didn't want to be the one to...."
"Yes, yes of course. Wouldn't want to let in any miscreants or what have you."
On that note she turned the key in the door and ascended the staircase within. The rain continued to pound down in neat fat splashes. Plastering hair down, marring expression.
"Your awake."
"It happens."
"Yes, I see. Would you care to come in and be rid of the rain. As you know, I can't stop you, so it wouldn't hurt." Wesley found himself babbling. He was elated and revulsed to see Faith before him, in control of her own facilties. Had she set out after him, Wesley wondered. After a pregnant pause she uttered an affirmative.
"Yeah."
The former Watcher opened the door to the building and held it for her motioning to go ahead.
"Well here's the homestead. Care for some tea?" Wesley said puttering into the kitchen nook, evading her gaze.
Faith smirked at him and laughed.
"So what...like you aren't even a bit curious? " She said slipping out of her jacket. Wesley tried not to stare. Since leaving England he had a lot of time to concentrate on past mistakes, ranging from youth to his decisions concerning his Slayers. He nearly dropped the teapot.
"I thought perhaps if, you wanted to let me know of your circumstances that you might tell me yourself." She shrugged.
"Uh huh. Got any thing to drink....Johnny Red?. I could really go for something hard after all this time..." Faith said slinking over to him, purposely goading Wesley.
"Quite, there's Tab in the fridge."
"Tab...right."
The evening was tedious for the pair. No one wanted to say anything. Faith's arriving on Wesley's doorstep was random and confusing. No one wanted to volunteer information. All the questions in Wesley's mind brimmed at the surface, he wasn't steel enough to ask them. The words tripped in his mind. The clock ticked by loudly interrupting the humming silence.
"You gonna sic the cops on me? Council?" The question sliced through the air like a bullet. The question lay at the top of their minds. Wesley figured she could take him out before the word go.
"Faith, I shall do neither. The Council is no longer an issue here-"
"Fired your ass,huh?"
"Yes, the Council sacked me. I can't say that I'm entirely disappointed about that turn of events either. However back to the point at hand. The answer is a resounding I don't know. You don't deserve what the Council would serve as justice. The police, is the wrong route regardless of your crimes. So you must appreciate that I don't have an enviable choice. What you do in life is your decision alone Faith. Yours."
Faith was quietly surprised by this answer, it both pleased her and pissed her off. So what, he didn't even care enough to spoon feed the slayer speil?
"What no sacred duty speech? No chosen one chatter. Cause that's taken care of...You Watchers have a wicked hard on for Buffy anyways. Perfect little slaygal.." The words spilled angrily from her glossy claret lips.
Wesley's fuse was blown. Faith was impossible as ever and just as mouthy. Apparently to make up for all her down time.
"Perhaps you didn't hear me before. I am no longer a member of The Watcher's Council, or assigned to you. What you do is up to you. You were given the gift as Slayer. But I'm in no place now to expect anything of you. Much less give you orders. As though you would have filled them anyways-" His diatribe was received with rolled eyes.
"If you'd like to get some sleep, you are welcome to stay on here. I am going to retire now. I insist that you take the bed. I shall be slumbering on the couch."
"Oh, oh get some sleep? That's a good one. Gee I haven't slept for months? The couch, how generous. What do you expect outta all this, Wes. I gotta ask."
Faith crept up to him and smoothed out her ouftit pouting. Wesley recognized the look, he would not be goaded no matter how much she vamped around him. This girl was obviously abused as he, her pyshical to his mental. Wesley fought to banish her image from his mind, she was a psychologically damaged slayer with no qualms to killing. That and her young age being other considerations swimming around.
"I expect nothing from you, Faith. You can stay here to get a rest and nourishment so as you can make decisions about you're situation with a clear mind." He walked away from her gathering an extra pillow and afghan from the small closet. Unhappy in defeat Faith huffed off into the tiny bedrom, chose one his button downs and crawled into bed for a sleep that would not come.
Just that morning she was in Sunnydale in Buffy's body, seeing life through Buffy's eyes. Everything was so different. No shock of Buffy's body was worse than seeing her own. Her body and face wearing her guilt. It set her off. It was as if Faith's mind was her's through a Buffy filter and Faith took account of herself and all she wanted to do was destroy her. Faith shook in her bed, had she wanted to destroy herself or Buffy, neither answer was clear or settling.
As morning crept in so did hunger. Faith meandered into the kitchen area and poked around.
"Bovril? Whatever..." she said rummaging through the refridgerator. Finding nothing suitable she tore into an open package of Pop Tarts. At that moment Wesley emerged from the bathroom swathed in a towel. He stammered upon Faith's state of undress and his own.
"If you'll pardon me, I'm just going to put on some clothing." He nearly broke into a trot crossing the few feet to his bedrom and slammed the door rattling the old frame. All Faith could do was smirk and swirl a few pedestrian Wesley thoughts around. She quickly hardened her mind and turned back to food foraging.
This was impossible. Wesley couldn't comprehend what he had been thinking bringing her into his residence. Faith was dangerous and he hadn't all the details. Shrugging them off he chose a uniform of beige linen, carefully choosing his tie/ sock combo obsessively. It is as if the realization just fell on him this moment. Work. Angel. Faith shot a poisoned arrow meaning to kill him. Cordelia, Angel.. Wesley chided himself for making this deadly mistake.
What would Faith do if she knew where he was headed? Should he give Angel and Cordelia a heads up....The police? All the decisions he cleared himself of the night prior fell on his shoulders again.
Part Two coming soon.