If Only

She Had Not left with Knox

(counterpart to Lineage)

"He was threatening your friends."

"He was threatening you. He pointed a gun at you, Fred, so I shot him."

Fred's eyes welled with tears as she took in the meaning of what he was saying, the magnitude of what his actions meant. She felt confused. She knew Wesley had feelings for her, but she thought it was a crush, like she had had on Angel when he first rescued her from Pylea. And then there was Lilah – who was absolutely nothing like her. How could he be with someone like Lilah and want someone like herself?

But the fact remained - he had shot the thing he believed to be his father without a second's hesitation because it pointed a gun at Fred. Would he have done that if it were Angel, or Gunn in her position… if it were Lilah?

"Wesley...I..." Fred stuttered, really having no idea what she was going to say. What could she say? Are you in love with me? That was the only question that came to her mind.

At that moment, Knox walked up to the door.

"Hi." He said. Fred turned around, not exactly happy to see him and that reflected on her face. Knox quelled a little under her expression. "Oh, sorry to... interrupt. I... but... Fred, you're injured. I know we're supposed to work ourselves to death and all, but I'm guessing that the firm isn't enforcing that rule as strictly as it used to. And I thought I was gonna take you home." Knox said.

"Um, well, I... Wesley and I were just..." She stuttered, attempting to give Knox a gentle brush off.

"Go." Wesley said softly, looking at her. "You should go." But his words did not reflect the desperation in his eyes… the need to talk to Fred, to have a friend close by. Fred had abandoned him once before when she should have given him the chance to speak. She had no intention of doing that again. Fred turned back toward Knox.

"I'm Sorry, Knox." She said. "But, I have some things I need to finish up with Wesley."

Knox looked disgruntled. "Oh… ok, then. See you tomorrow, I guess." He said. Fred nodded and turned back to Wesley who looked extremely surprised.

"You didn't have to do that." Wesley said, quietly.

"I know. But I feel like you need a friend right now. I feel like you need me." Fred said.

A ghost of a smile flitted across Wesley's lips.

"You want to go get some dinner?" Fred asked. Wesley nodded.

Fred turned and walked out of Wesley's office, Wesley following, his own mind a jumble of emotions he could not understand. What he had told Fred was absolutely true – he had shot his father (or the Cyborg that he believed was his father) because it had threatened Fred. Until that moment, even he did not realize how much he cared for her… how much he loved her… and how foolish he was for never telling her.

Wesley stopped walking. It was dark in the lobby. It was late and everyone else had gone home. Fred turned around and looked at Wesley, who was standing still, his brow furrowed – his eyes dark. He looked anguished – like someone who wanted to confess something to a priest.

"Wesley?" Fred said walking back toward him, concern in her eyes.

"I should have told you..." Wesley said, quietly. "…long ago."

"Told me what?" Fred asked.

Wesley looked up and met her eyes.

"That I don't just have arbitrary feelings toward you, Fred. That what I feel for you isn't a crush. It's always been very much more." Wesley said.

Fred looked at Wesley, a knot in her throat.

"What… what are you saying?" Fred asked in a strained voice.

Wesley lifted his right hand and placed it very gently on Fred's cheek.

"That I'm in love with you." He said. His voice was thick with emotion, his eyes dark and sincere.

Fred inhaled sharply, her head spinning.

So, he did love her… of course. She supposed she had always known. Only she had refused to admit, or recognize, that that was how he felt. She had ignored his feelings so completely that she was rendered speechless by Wesley's confession – had absolutely no idea how to respond to his profession of love. But, she realized it was because she had no idea how she truly felt about him. She loved Wesley, sure… as a friend. But, she was not sure if she was in love with him. There were times, though, when she had been working with Wesley on research or a spell that she found herself daydreaming about what could have been if she had allowed herself to succumb to his subtle advances, maybe gone out to dinner with him some time. Truth be told, when they first met, Fred was attracted to Wesley – but, he was so sophisticated, and she had just spent five years living as a piece of livestock... She couldn't remember how to be in a relationship with someone so intelligent and debonair so she ignored her feelings for him. Subconsciously, she felt he was too good for her. Then she had fallen for Charles and let herself be caught up with his juvenile romanticism. Then Wesley betrayed Angel and all of his friends (even though he thought he was doing right), and had that torrid affair with Lilah. But, he still came back when he was needed… was still there to help Angel and Cordelia and her even though they had given him no reason to. He was the one who brought Angel back from the depths of the ocean even though Angel had tried to kill him. He had searched for Cordelia when she had gone missing and participated in the spell to bring back her memory. He had helped Fred exact revenge on the professor that had sent her to Pylea. And, tonight, Wesley had killed his 'father' without a second's hesitation because he had tried to hurt her. Despite everything, Wesley was always there for her. So loyal. So caring.

"Wesley… I…" Fred started. She what? Wesley gazed into her eyes – his blue ones so intense and honest – and Fred felt something stir inside her. Was it desire?

She was too confused, could not think straight with Wesley's blue eyes gazing at her so passionately. Fred backed away from Wesley's hand and took a seat on the base of the stairs that led up to the offices. She put her head in her hands and tried to make sense of the million emotions and desires that were racing around in her brain preventing her from forming a coherent thought.

"I'm sorry." Wesley said. Fred looked up. She did not even realize she was crying.

"For what? Being honest… or waiting so long to be honest?" Fred said. She could not quite keep the accusatory bite out of her voice. Wesley looked down at the floor, ashamed and wounded.

"For both, I suppose. I told you because I need you to understand why I did what I did tonight." Wesley said.

"You mean killing your father?" Fred asked, more gently this time. Wesley nodded.

"I didn't want you to think I was just a cold blooded killer who would shoot his father down without a second thought. What I did… it was a reflex to you being in danger – knowing what he could have done to you." Wesley said.

Fred nodded and looked down at her lap, still trying to get a bearing on her emotions. Wesley took a few steps toward her.

"Look, I know you don't feel that way about me. And that's… fine. Your friendship is…"

"Wesley, will you please not presume that you know how I feel about you?" Fred said quietly. The fact that Wesley assumed that his affections only went one way was insulting. But, then again, how could he think otherwise? She had not exactly ever given Wesley a chance romantically. Why wouldn't he assume she simply was not interested?

Fred shook her head as though clearing it, but actually, everything was starting to fall into place in her mind.

"I'm sorry, Wesley. I'm just trying to make sense of everything." Fred said. "I'm trying to make sense of how I feel." She finished quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She was realizing things, admitting things about her feelings for Wesley that she had not dared allow herself to think before.

Fred stood up and walked to Wesley. She looked deeply into his haunted blue eyes. They stood there and gazed at each other for a minute, words escaping them. Fred felt like she was seeing Wesley – really seeing him – for the first time. She understood now how much he loved her, and she now realized that she felt something powerful for Wesley, too. She did not know if it was love – not yet. It was more the feeling that she was falling in love with him. Being the consummate scientist, she realized she was attracted to Wesley on an intellectual, emotional and physical level – in other words, on every level of her being.

Acting on instinct, her mind still swirling as she let her newly discovered feelings for Wesley fill her up, Fred leaned in a placed a soft kiss on Wesley's lips. When she backed away, Wesley was looking at her in wonder.

"Fred, I…" Wesley started.

"Shhh." Fred said, softly placing a finger over Wesley's lips. "Let's just try this first."

She leaned in again and put her lips to Wesley's once more, a little firmer this time.

It did not take but a moment for the kiss to escalate, for their lips to work against each other with a little more urgency. Wesley's arms wrapped around Fred's waist and Fred pressed herself against him, wrapping her unslinged arm around his neck. They kissed passionately, deeply, honestly. The intensity of the kiss spoke a thousand words – expressed so many things that either had yet to say to each other. When they broke apart several minutes later it was as though they were seeing each other unbarred and unhidden for the first time. And they both realized they wanted each other, needed each other, loved each other.

Wesley reached up and placed a gentle palm on Fred's cheek which he stroked gently with his thumb.

"I don't much feel like going out tonight to be honest. Would you… would you like to come over to my apartment for dinner? We can order in?" Wesley asked. Fred swallowed the anxious knot in her throat. She knew the implications of going to Wesley's place on a night when they were both feeling so vulnerable.

"I… I'm not sure that's such a good…" Fred started.

"No expectations, Fred, I promise. Just dinner." Wesley said. Fred could see the sincerity in his eyes. She nodded.

Wesley took her hand in his and together they exited Wolfram and Hart.

They spoke very little on the way to Wesley's apartment, their minds still swirling with the events of the night. Fred wished she could hold Wesley's hand while he drove, but her arm was still in a sling and it would have been awkward to try to grasp his hand with her other. So she sat quietly, her free hand in her lap as they drove the short distance to Wesley's apartment, stopping at a Chinese food place on the way to grab some take out.

Wesley's apartment was just as Fred remembered – stylish and masculine. While Wesley gathered some plates and silverware from the kitchen, Fred laid out the mu shu pork, fried rice and eggrolls.

'Would you like some wine?' Wesley asked.

"Please." Fred answered. These had been the first words they had spoken to each other in five minutes. Both were feeling awkward in light of that evening's confessions. Yet, neither wanted to leave the other's company.

Wesley walked over to the table carrying the plates and utensils in one hand and two wine glasses in the other, a bottle of Cabernet tucked under his arm. Fred took the plates and set them on the table while Wesley opened the wine. He poured them both a generous amount. Liquid courage, Fred thought.

The wine did seem to help loosen them up. During dinner, they talked a little about work – some of the more difficult and unwholesome cases they had been recently working. Wesley also revealed a little more about his relationship with Emele.

"Did you know how deep his connections were?" Fred asked after Wesley told her about ordering custom made weapons from him when he was estranged from Angel Investigations.

"I would like to say no… the truth, though, is that at that time, I didn't care." Wesley answered candidly.

Fred was silent for a moment.

"It was a bad time for all of us, Wesley. But I can't imagine how lonely it was for you." Fred said, quietly. She reached across the table with her good hand and grabbed Wesley's. Their eyes met and something poignant and tangible passed between them.

"I… I'm sorry that I wasn't a better friend during that time." Fred said quietly. "Especially after you saved my life."

Wesley squeezed Fred's hand.

"What's past is past, Fred. Let's leave it there." Wesley whispered. Fred nodded and stood up. Wesley did the same.

They stood looking at each other for a moment, neither speaking, just gazing in each other's eyes.

"It's getting late. Maybe I should head home." Fred said, not really wanting to leave but not knowing what else to say.

"Please… stay for a little while longer. I… I don't really want to be alone just yet." Wesley said, his eyes pleading. Fred nodded and caressed Wesley's cheek with her hand.

Fred and Wesley proceeded into Wesley's sitting area where they sat on the sofa together – Wesley leaning back against the arm of the sofa, his legs resting on the coffee table while Fred rested her head against his chest. He pulled an afghan over them and they watched reruns of StarTrek until they both drifted off to sleep – still in each other's arms.

Fred awoke very, very early the next morning. The sun had not yet risen and it took her a moment to remember where she was. She looked around the dark room and saw a trifecta of swords on the wall above an oak dresser. It was then that she rememberd she was still at Wesley's. She also realized she was in his bed. Fred pushed the blankets off of her and sat up. She was still fully dressed, only her shoes were gone. She exhaled in relief. The last thing she remembered was watching Star Trek with Wesley. She must have drifted off to sleep which meant he must have carried her in here. But, then, where was he?

Fred made to get out of bed when she noticed a folded t-shirt on the chest at the foot of the bed with a note resting on it. She reached out and picked up the note which read:

Should you want to sleep in something more comfortable. -W

She smiled at Wesley's thoughtfulness and gratefully slipped out of her day clothes and into Wesley's shirt. It was a soft cotton material and fell to her thighs, and it smelled heavenly. She inhaled deeply, her eyes closed, and wrapped her free arm around herself, imagining that it was Wesley holding her. She opened her eyes realizing she could do more than just imagine.

Fred walked over to the bedroom door, opened it quietly and stepped out to the living room.

Wesley was lying on the sofa, sleeping soundly, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing an old gray t-shirt and a pair of sweats. The afghan they had wrapped up in together the previous night was in a pile on the floor.

Fred smiled softly, realizing that Wesley must have carried her to the bed before coming out here to sleep so he would not make her uncomfortable. He was always such a gentleman. It was one of the things that endeared him to her.

Fred tiptoed over to Wesley and ever so gently caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. Wesley stirred and his eyes flitted open.

"Fred? Are you alright?" He asked, looking at her groggily.

She reached down and took his hand in hers.

"Come with me." She said. Wesley got up from the sofa and let Fred lead him into the bedroom. She stopped before the big bed and looked at Wesley.

"Will you sleep with me, Wesley?" Fred asked quietly. Wesley nodded, knowing there was no euphemism or double entandra in her question. She was not asking to make love to him… she actually wanted to sleep next to him.

Wesley climbed in bed and laid down and Fred scooted in beside him. She laid her head down on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank you for the shirt." She whispered.

"Of course." Wesley replied, kissing the top of her head.

They were asleep again within a matter of minutes.