Title: Prophetic Darkness

Author: Tonya (tigerlily1998@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: No own, no sue.

Rating: PG/PG-13

Spoilers: "Deep Down"-- season premiere of AtS season 4

Feedback: I will do my interpretive dance entitled "Why I Love Feedback"!!!

Distribution: Going Rogue, Shipper Dreams, Belonging, True Faith, and everyone else who has archived my previous stuff. Everyone else just ask! It's guaranteed I'll say yes!

Summary: The arrival of a new prophecy causes troubles for Wesley and a newly-released Faith.

A/N: This is a companion piece to "Two Simple Words" so I guess this fic would be considered AU since Faith has been released from jail two months ago. Takes place early in Season 4-- Wes has returned Angel from the sea and Lilah is the head of W&H.

*********

"You know, our firm has stumbled across an interesting little prophecy."

Wesley watched as Lilah zipped up her skirt and ran her hands down her hips to smooth out the fabric. Her back to him, even as she spoke, she slipped her blouse on over her shoulders.

"Really," he sighed indifferently from the bed.

She turned to him as she ran a hand through her hair, detangling her tresses. "And we could always use a little new blood at the head our research department."

"I'm not interested in working for the evil incarnate itself, Lilah."

She shrugged and smirked. "Either way, the offer still stands."

Wesley scoffed under his breath. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that."

Lilah gave her hair a confident toss over her shoulder as she retrieved her purse and briefcase from Wesley's desk. She strolled out of the room, pulling the bedroom door closed behind her.

"Prophecies," Wesley mumbled to himself.

Like he would give a damn about a prophecy. What good had ever come from any prophecy he had had the misfortune to lay his hands on. Somehow or another, they had all led him in the wrong direction-- some with more dire results than others. Prophecies were nothing but the Magic 8-ball of the Powers That Be. Shake it one way, and the outlook was good. Shake it again, merely seconds later, and the outcome would change drastically. Prophecies were nothing to him.

Wesley sighed as he felt the warmth of a hot shower calling out to him. He removed himself from the bed with a sigh and stretched before slowly making his way across the bedroom. As he walked, his mind drifted to Faith and her earlier visit. It had shocked him to say the least. He hadn't set eyes on her-- hadn't even given her second thought-- since the night she had turned herself in to the authorities. It felt oddly surreal to hear an apology from her, but she had seemed to be sincere in her wish for him to forgive her.

He found himself wishing that she hadn't run away like she had, but then again, what else would have been left to say? The apology had been given. The forgiveness had been established. The rogue Slayer and the rogue Watcher had finally come to terms with each other, and now they could continue on their paths-- no longer intertwined with the other. Their business was now officially done.

But, deep down, Wesley couldn't fight the feeling that their paths had yet to untangle….

As Wesley passed his desk, he noticed Lilah's legal pad lying upon it. He could only chuckle bitterly to himself as he picked up the notebook and began to flip nonchalantly through it. Lilah definitely knew how to play the game-- "accidentally" leaving her things behind. Knowing damn well that he would go through it. Probably hoping that it would peak his interest enough for him to join her team….

Wesley's thoughts froze in the crevices of his mind as his eyes absorbed a page in the center of the legal pad. It resembled typical meeting notes-- minutes from the last meeting, discussion of new potential clients, company revenue. However, in the center of the mess, Lilah had marked a line of scribble with a star-- "Prophecy? The chosen one turned dark? Key player?"

The chosen one turned dark.

Wesley frowned deeply as the line continued to echo in his mind.

**********

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Leaning onto the counter, her chin resting in the palm of her hand, Faith watched the coffee run into the pot. She could only sigh as she wondered what the hell had happened to her life.

"Faith," Debbie said from over her shoulder. "You got someone at number 5."

Faith looked towards booth number five and rolled her eyes. She grabbed her order pad and a pen from her apron as she slowly made her way over to the gentleman in the business suit.

She was a Slayer. She was supposed to be fighting evil, saving the damn world. Nowhere in the job description did it ever say, "Must be able to wait tables with a smile." She shouldn't have had to work in some diner just to make some cash.

Besides, this job was testing her people skills more and more everyday. Somehow, Faith always ended up with the problem customers, and each one was pushing her closer and closer to her snapping point. If it wasn't some little weasely teenager and his buds trying to dine and dash on her, it was the old guy who kept bitching because the coffee was too damn hot and the soup was too damn cold. And every single time, she had to reel in her natural urges to grab the cheapskates and break their legs so they couldn't "dash" and to drown the old guy in his coffee and soup.

And then you had people like this guy. With their GQ suits and haircuts. The ones who oozed professionalism, but at the same time, wouldn't hesitate for a second to overtly flirt with her and occasionally proposition her. It always happened, without fail. She hated assholes like….

"Wesley?" Faith asked as she finally stood before the booth.

Wesley laid his suit jacket beside him in the booth before turning to her with a slight smile. "Hello, Faith. I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah," she replied, looking him over with a smirk. "Rejoining civilization and all that crap. What are you doing here?"

"Just ordering some breakfast before work."

"Since when does Angel enforce a dress code?" she laughed.

Wesley simply shrugged. "Things do have a tendency to change."

"Poster girl for change here," Faith smirked as she held up her hand. "So, you want coffee or orange juice or something?"

"Coffee would be nice."

"'Kay. Just hang tight."

Faith turned and made her way back behind the counter to fix his drink. When she turned back, the fresh mug of coffee in her hands, he was already gone. Frowning, Faith walked over to the booth and sat the mug upon the table.

"What the hell?" she mumbled to herself.

Maybe this was all just payback. She had run out on him the other night, and now, he was simply returning the favor. Faith silently scolded herself for even thinking that he may have shown up to see her, to maybe try to help mend their old relationship. No, it had just been a taste of her own medicine. Why else would he have shown up in a diner that was nearly forty minutes from where he lived?

Faith rolled her eyes with a sigh. As she walked away, a small slip of paper where Wesley had placed his jacket caught her attention. She looked around the diner for a moment before retrieving what happened to be a business card.

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

VP of Research

Wolfram and Hart Lawfirm"

"Wolfram and Hart?" Faith asked quietly.

She remembered them. In a way, they had been the reason she had ended up in jail. They had been the ones to offer her a job to dust Angel, and it was that job offer that had changed everything. Everything with Angel. Everything with Wesley. And definitely everything with her.

Why would Wesley be working with them?

Faith frowned and placed the card in her apron.

**********

"So how's the view?"

Wesley looked up from his computer with a smirk. Lilah lingered in the doorway of his office and smiled at him.

She entered and shut the office door gracefully with her hip. She motioned with her cell phone at the large window behind Wesley as she continued, "Nice overlook of the city, huh?"

"I've seen better," Wesley said and returned his eyes to the computer screen.

Lilah laughed quietly and sat on the edge of his desk. She casually crossed her legs, and her skirt rode up slightly on her thighs. The smile on her face only intensified as she watched Wesley's gaze travel from his computer screen to her legs and back again.

"It's ironic, really," she sighed. "This office used to belong to Lindsey. A bad guy turned good guy abandons the roost, and a good guy turned bad guy takes it over. Kinda poetic."

"I've always found poetry highly overrated," Wesley replied casually.

"We can't all be enthusiasts of the art, I suppose."

"Was there something you wanted, Lilah?" Wesley asked, finally looking up at her. "I am busy at the moment."

Lilah opened her mouth to respond, but her cell phone began to ring. She held up a finger to hold her conversation with Wesley as she slid off the desk and answered the phone. She strolled to a corner of the office as Wesley turned his eyes back to his computer, listening intently to her one-sided conversation.

"Lilah," she said into the phone. "Gavin, your report was supposed to be on my desk by eight this morning. It's now noon, and I still don't see a report. Now why is that?…. Look, I realize that I said you could take over this little project, but I at least expected you to pretend to do your job. I need the complete prophecy. One little sound-bite isn't really going to help us. I need to know what side she's going to be on. Is she key, or will she just be another obstacle?…. Maybe when you were Linwood's golden boy he put up with your little bullshit excuses, but I want that report on my desk in twenty minutes."

Lilah sighed and hung up the phone. She turned to Wesley with a slight smile. "Well, I'm going to need to cut our little rendezvous short."

"Pity," Wesley mumbled, his fingers working on the keyboard.

"And don't wait up looking for me tonight," Lilah smirked as she made her way to the office door.

"I never do," Wesley replied with the same smirk as Lilah walked out.