Disclaimer: I own nothing below except the plot. All characters, locations, and concepts are owned under their respective copyrights.
Spoilers and Timeline: Angel up to the episode "Forgiving" and between that episode and "Double or Nothing"
Author's note: Thanks to everyone who previously reviewed anyone is kind enough to offer a review (thanks in advance) for this chapter, feedback and suggestions are wanted and appreciated.
A Monster
Chapter 7: A Predatory Meeting, A Long Evening, and A New Group Dynamic
Fred was looking down at Wesley's body. The drive back to the Hyperion seemed to be taking forever. Fred was glad that it wasn't cold this night. Being in the bed of Charles' truck meant that an unpleasant wind would blow past her when the vehicle got going.
She noticed this in passing. Her focus was on the battered, bloody, and corpse-like form of her friend. It was good that he was a vampire. The wounds he had suffered would have killed a human. Numerous bruises dotted his face and his arms where he had defended himself from Holtz. Indentations and deformities signified broken bones everywhere. The most gruesome injuries were the stab and burn wounds from a stake and a cross. The gaping chest wound was clear and kept drawing Fred's attention. She repeatedly thought that if the wound was a few inches to the left, Wesley would have been reduced to dust.
Fred thought back on all the times she had noticed Wesley. The first time she saw him, he looked harried and then confused at her arrival. Her blood-soaked hand had made a memorable first impression. Later he seemed less confused after learning who she was. The summer when Angel had gone away, led her to become a recluse. Wesley was there along with everyone else, giving her space and food. They didn't pressure her to come out, Cordelia did help with some clothes, Wesley and Charles had been so nice, trying to talk to her and figure out what she liked.
When she finally emerged, everyone was so encouraging, trying to ease her back into the world. Wesley was a part of that process, he had taken her ideas on a case. He and Cordelia had taken her for a night out. She still remembered how Wesley had moved to protect her first when Charles' former gang crashed the party. At the time she wondered why he held her so closely, even though there was nothing he could really do but to shield her with his own body.
Fred had to smile when she remembered the 'vote' that had taken place on whether she should stay with the group. Being the boss had its perks, Wesley had put the matter to rest with a cheery "Good, you're staying."
Her smile faded when she thought about what happened next. A case gone badly wrong. Fred played the part of horror movie victim, running from a crazed would-be killer. The chase and narrow escape were memories that she stashed away, preferring instead a look at the aftermath. Wesley was horrified at his actions, and hid away in shame. Fred knew better, Wesley wasn't that way normally. She told him so, and again she wondered why she had such an effect on him. She heard his sobbing after he closed the door. Like she had released him from something, and he was able to have a cathartic experience.
Then came the ballet, and everything had changed. Wesley was beaming with happiness the entire night, he'd even complemented her. But after she kissed Charles, she couldn't help but notice the change when it happened. Looking back, Wesley became utterly professional towards her. His small, hoping she didn't notice smiles disappeared. He didn't seek her out for ideas anymore. Of course, his work on the prophecy involving Angel and Connor had started. Fred reasoned that this was his primary concern, and that any change towards her was just stress getting to him.
Of course, that was before a chastened and resurrected Wesley had to bare his heart and soul to all of them. To salvage even a bit of trust. His betrayal had touched everybody. Fred had a stronger reaction than she would ever admit. And then seeing that Wesley was dead and then undead. It was one thing to be concerned, scared, and confused over Wesley taking Connor. It was quite another to know why, and still have Wesley be in his current situation.
It was during this musing over recent events that the demon inside Wesley's body began to regain wakefulness. The tranquilizer made Pryce's actions sluggish, he remembered that idiot Gunn putting him to sleep. However, it seemed that the man had done the demon a favor. Winifred was close. What would poor Wesley think, after he came back, only to find that Winifred had been drained dry and killed. Pryce wanted to turn her, she had so many possibilities as a vampire. Who knew what would surface due to her time in Pylea, what darkness was hiding behind that mask of scientist and cute as you please Texan? It was all moot now anyway. She would be a meal.
Pryce's hand shot out and grabbed Fred by the ankle. A sudden jerk with a scream and Fred was pulled down and next to Pryce. Fred's tranquilizer gun was dropped in the fall. It was no longer in the bed of the truck. Fred was now looking at a terrifying sight. She was being held by a vampire. He was smiling and sported his demon face. It was most definitely not Wesley. The golden eyes held malice and a primal hunger. Fred reached desperately for a weapon, any weapon. Her hand grasped something wooden and solid. She swung it around to smack Pryce in the head.
Pryce reeled from the hit, snarled, and lunged back around to bite Fred. He got as far as showing his fangs to the girl. She had an odd expression for someone in her place. Pryce remembered when his fool of a body had chased her through the hotel. This wisp of a girl had the same look right before she knocked out the moron with a swinging fire extinguisher. Pryce was only able to see the look for a moment before his body was struck by a series of rapid and concentrated convulsions. Fred's special taser arrow was shoved into Pryce's side. The massive electrical charge dissipated quickly throughout his body.
The demon despised the wave of energy coursing through his body. It paralyzed any movement. And dear Winifred was so close. What was terrifying to the evil demon was the other response of the body. The dead, unmoving heart flared to life. It beat several times. Each beat of the heart was a call to the soul. Each beat sent out life, where the demon sought death. Wesley responded with all the determination and energy his soul could muster.
The demonic face morphed back into its human form. Golden eyes closed. When they opened, they were soft blue filled with sorrow and concern. Wesley rolled away from Fred before he blacked out again.
Fred reflected on the differences between the demon and the man. They were opposite in their outlook and yet they were similar in so many ways. They were both crafty. They both had a focus on her, which had just been on display. It was peculiar, she should not have survived, Pryce had her. Like when Wesley had chased her through the hotel. He had caught her at one point. There, just like now, he hesitated. Fred kept wondering about why she was so lucky as she grabbed the side of the truck and pulled herself up. She wouldn't let her mind wander again. A third time might not be the charm when it came to Wesley or his demon. This recent turn of events had shown that she was forgetting what she had learned in Pylea. This dimension was much safer most of the time, but all that meant was that it was easier to let her guard down too much. Her earlier initial feelings about Wesley were right. It would be better if he were around. Even with the demon. Pryce could be controlled.
The group had done some amazing things. If they were kept together, they would do even more. With Wesley as a vampire, he could become more important. Fred had seen first hand how capable Angel was, Wesley could be similar. There was still his request to consider, he had all but begged her to remember him. And just like that, all the pieces fell into place. Wesley had a focus on her. She wanted to keep the group together for safety. To prevent Wesley from doing something stupid, Fred would have to reward his feelings at some point. The only questions that remained were how to do that without pushing Charles away from the group, and when should she tell Wesley?
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When Wesley next awoke, his expectation was that he would be in a spectator's place again. With the current course of events, Wesley was surprised he was still in his body at all. Connor was back, and Wesley had the potential to become a grave threat. The reasons for his continued existence had all but disappeared.
It was obvious he wasn't dust. The fires of hell were not consuming his soul over and over again. The classicist in him thought that he more than deserved the ice of betrayal, Dante sure could fit the punishment to the crime. While he was dead, he was not present in any kind of paradise dimension. At best he was consigned to some plain where uncertainty ruled. He was definitely not worthy of paradise, but he had apparently done enough good to not be instantly condemned.
What was even more surprising, Wesley was back in control of his body. The demon Pryce was growling in joy as well as a rapidly fading string of derisive comments. Pryce's essence was being locked away where he couldn't regain control anytime soon.
The reason for the switch was the heavenly substance being fed to him. It was human blood, but it was far different from those he had before. Gunn and Lilah's blood were each great in their own way. This was something else, it was sweeter and had a body to it that the others lacked. It was a weight that forced Pryce down while securing Wesley's control. It evoked life, the same way the taser had earlier. Once the blood stopped flowing Wesley became more aware. His demon face had come forth again, as it did when he had blood. He changed it to his human one. After this was done, he opened his eyes. He found himself chained to a chair in his office.
In the room with him were Fred, Gunn, and Lorne. Wesley noticed a bandage on Fred's hand, it matched the one that Gunn had. It was her blood that had roused him. Wesley inwardly cursed his situation. He couldn't help but remember what she tasted like, and now he was attuned to her smell. There was nothing human about it, she had a fragrance of something comforting and tasty. Fred would've described the smell as apple pie, freshly baked. He looked away from her and shook his head, trying and failing to clear his head and senses of an inundation of all that was Fred.
Lorne saw his distress and spoke, trying to distract Wesley further "I was going to ask you to sing, to make sure you're you, but after that little display I don't need to hear a thing. Guys and gals, he's all soul now."
Wesley sighed and tiredly said "Thank you Lorne. Winifred," Wesley paused and corrected himself. "Sorry, Fred, I appreciate the help and the blood, I cannot overstate what you and Gunn have done for me."
Gunn responded "You saved me once, I figure we're even now."
Fred added in "Wesley, why won't you look at us?"
"It's not you Fred, it's my accursed self, your blood is intoxicating. I want more. If I look at you, I'll start imagining, and what I'll dream up would be disgusting, I can't help it." Wesley kept his gaze locked on a plant in a corner of the room.
Fred let out a quick "Oh." while she backed up and behind Charles. They had discussed who should give him blood. Angel had offered to visit a blood bank. But Fred remembered what the sorcerer had said, a friend's blood had more power than a stranger's. Charles' blood hadn't lasted long enough. It almost led to disaster. Fred had decided on an experiment. Increasing the amount and changing the donor to see if it made any difference. It wasn't the scientific method by any means, but having a hypothesis proven wrong in this case could be deadly.
Wesley scoffed "'Oh' indeed, I wish it weren't the case. Lorne, if you would be so kind, could you release me, I want to make use of a shower and a bed, it's been a long night."
Lorne could not deny this request. He moved to unlock the chains while Fred and Gunn kept their distance.
It amazed Lorne, the amount of shame that was present in this dimension. Especially when it came to emotions and actions that people had little control over. As a vampire, Wesley naturally desired blood. His nature was fixed, he had to have blood of some type. Lorne noticed that Wes had an abundance of shame, he was perfectly willing to blame himself, even when it wasn't necessary or reasonable. This recent interaction with Fred was a great example. Wesley wasn't responsible for his undead state, or for his soul's imprisonment. His feelings for Fred came before both of these situations. All of this joined to drag Wesley into a state of melancholy that made him forget the wonderful things he had accomplished. Lorne wondered where this would all lead. Reading Wesley just now, the Pylean could see that Wesley cared greatly about what his friends thought of him. And that something had almost happened when Wesley was away getting Connor, whatever it was had drowned him in remorse.
Connor was back, the group was back together. Lorne had to smile, even as Wesley stood up and moved to the door. The smile became forced and fixed. Fred and Gunn moved in concert, Gunn keeping himself between his girl and his friend. Wesley noticed this too. He was moving slowly, so as not to alarm anyone. He wanted so badly to leave this mortifying situation far behind. The only good part about this, it was probably the worst he would endure tonight.
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Wesley was wrong.
After cleaning himself, he was all set to experience his first real sleep as a vampire. He had been rendered unconscious several times. He hadn't exactly slept at all since having his throat slit. He wondered how sleep would differ, now that he shared his body with a demon, and that even without the demon, he was still no longer human. In all fairness, he probably didn't even need sleep. But now he felt like he had to, the battles that night had left him badly injured and his body needed time to heal, even if his mind didn't. It seemed Fred's blood was even helping with that. Under his bandages he could feel his wounds closing up.
Before sleep could descend upon him, he became aware of things going on throughout the hotel. He could hear and smell far beyond his human perception. As he laid down on what had become his bed, he cursed his awareness.
There was his hearing. Lorne was the easiest to pinpoint and dismiss, he was already asleep. Though it seemed even his snoring had a melody to it. Angel and Connor offered up pleasant sounds of a father that was doting over a newly returned son. Connor's burbling and cooing added an accompanying pleasing soundtrack. Wesley had to smile at this. Regardless of what Angel did to him, returning Connor was the right thing to do.
The smile left as soon as he caught the sounds coming from Fred's room. At first it was quiet conversation. The couple was reassuring each other about what had happened. Gunn was worried about Wesley's earlier comments and what had happened in the truck. And the vampire couldn't blame him. What was surprising was Fred's response, her curiosity was about the differences in Wesley's reaction to her blood as opposed to Gunn's. He responded with some proper complements, Fred just being herself and all. Wesley thought 'If you only knew. Fred's a survivor, and she's sweet, and smells like the first fall morning-' Wesley put a stop to this disturbing train of thought and he noticed that the talking had stopped.
Wesley was hoping that Pryce was wrong about being able to hear everything. In this case, the demon was right. 'Dear lord, I can even make out the soft moans of pleasure, that better be the limit, I have no wish to hear more.'
Hearing Gunn together with his girlfriend was not something Wesley had thought about back in the hospital room. Or really since he had been restored to his body. Pryce had tried to rattle him with this forthcoming event, but Wesley was busy and determined. The sounds weren't the only evidence, the smells of sweat and arousal permeated the hotel. Wesley thought briefly of how Angel could cope with this. He would have to ask the older vampire about it at some point.
These sounds and smells of lovemaking weren't the ideal way to be borne off into sleep, but Wesley was exhausted and a deep slumber was relentless in its onset.
If Wesley was counting on an uneventful sleep, he was to be sadly disappointed, distressed, and depressed in turn.
He didn't have to wait long. The first interruption came when a voice began slithering into a pleasant dream where Wesley was a human again. He would remember the feelings of the dream later, but none of the details.
The voice started as a whisper and steadily rose into a lovely, powerful, and enticing echo. As if someone was trying to wake him up, what the voice said made Wesley's pleasant feelings flee back to where they came from. Instead Wesley was filled with alarm. If it were a regular nightmare, the vampire would've bolted awake, be he exhausted or not. The owner of the voice prevented this. Wesley would hear these words and promises.
'Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, your wish to do right by the friend who murdered you is commendable. In the process, however; you have wrecked plans that were close to becoming real. You have denied me my rightful place in the world. I only wanted to bring peace and love.' The voice was soft and Wesley was drawn to its warmth.
The intruding voice changed and filled with wrath, Wesley recoiled, he always seemed to be failing at something. 'Now, I will see you and your friends destroyed. My servants are many, they shall be a plague to you and yours. I will single you out. Your name will become the new watchword for suffering. Every aspiring hero will hear of you, your tale will cause hesitation and fear. Many will die that would have lived had you not acted as you did. I leave you with this, your demon will help me bring you to ruin. By the time it is your time to die, you will welcome it.'
Wesley was hoping that this voice was just part of his subconscious, that it was just another dream. Was it simply a way for him to deal with all that had happened? Or was it just stress and humiliation that brought this on?
Yet again Wesley was mistaken, the owner of the voice began its first assault with a vision masquerading as a dream.
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Wesley was fully healed and rested, and had been for a while now. Everybody was in good spirits. Angel Investigations was a going concern.
This day found the group all in the lobby. Cordelia and the Groosalugg were behind the counter. Angel and Connor were in an alcove out-of-the-way of the windows. While Gunn and Fred were nestled close together on the circular couch in the center of the lobby. Wesley had just come out of the office. It wasn't his anymore, but he still had an affinity for research. His new vampiric memory and retention made it easier. His enhanced vision meant that he could read at any hour, even with no light.
It was a beautiful day out, everybody was happy. Wesley should have shared in the joy. The scene in the lobby brought home some unpleasant truths. In the group, Wesley and Lorne were the only members who were alone. The lovely and sunny day only served to remind Wesley that he had to avoid the warmth and light. And then a thought occurred, why couldn't he? He had returned Connor, he was useful to the group but no longer unique. Sure, everyone had adjusted to his new state and he had kept the demon under control. He was still a potential threat if he slipped up and forgot his habitual and necessary drinking of human blood. At least now he acquired it from a blood bank Angel had shown him.
Wesley began to walk towards the front doors of the hotel, wondering if anyone would try to stop him. None of the other members made a move, although some did joke about him going to get a tan. Wesley thought he heard a gasp of surprise as he pulled the door open and stepped out into the sunlight. But again there was no move to pull him back inside. The sun felt wonderful, it was warm and inviting. That lasted for a little while until a sudden blast of burning pain that overwhelmed all other feelings. Fortunately, the amount of sunlight was so great that the pain only lasted for an instant before Wesley's body disintegrated and his soul was finally set free. Wesley was smiling throughout this quick process, despite the pain, he had redeemed himself. He'd been forgiven, and he had given happiness to everyone he cared about. Becoming a vampire had turned out to be a boon that was born from monstrous intent. He could still picture the smiles and laughter of each of his friends just now as he left his existence behind.
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Wesley bolted awake, the dream seemed so very real. Everybody was so happy. And the sun felt so very warm for the moment its light touched him. Before the pain of being immolated hit him, being outside was lovely.
He reflected on why he was sweating from the nightmare, vampires had no need to do so. They didn't have to regulate their body temperature, nor could their now dead bodies offer biological responses to emotions. Except for anger, but even that was within the demon part.
Wesley then took note of his surroundings. It was early morning, the light of the sun was just peeking through the curtains. The room could do with a thorough cleaning. Really, it needed to be completely renovated. Everything needed to be torn out and replaced. It was during this rather pointless evaluation of his current, hopefully temporary, lodgings that he spied something out-of-place.
A stake was resting on the night stand. Wesley considered its proximity. What a dangerous and curious thing to have in a vampire's room. The thought then came that it must have been placed in the room during the time before his soul was returned. Angel's insurance policy in the event that Wesley's soul was well and truly lost. Without hope of ever being found.
Then the voice and the dream came back to him. Wesley was still a threat. Fred's blood had certainly done a number on the demon within him. Of course, there was no telling how long that would last. The threats the voice had made were explicit, if true, he would end up hurting his friends. The shame he felt earlier would as nothing if he killed anyone. Pryce would target Fred, Angel, and Connor first. Hurting anybody else was just an added bonus in punishing Wesley. Maybe if he removed himself, the threat would disappear as well.
Wesley considered the stake. What lethal simplicity. With a single thrust, he could be free of this prison of a body. Was it any wonder that ancient man and his ancestors had used it as a first line of defense against a harsh and uncaring world. He grasped the weapon and swung his legs so he was sitting on the bed instead of still being in the covers. It was well-sharpened, being the lover and friend of a Slayer and her Watchers had its certain advantages. Wesley surmised that Buffy and Mr. Giles would approve of its construction, Angel certainly knew his stakes. He wondered what Faith would think of his current situation. Given her personality she might solve his problem for him. In some ways, Faith was a more conventional Slayer than her counterpart in Sunnydale.
Wesley had been stabbed by Holtz, more than once, with a weapon that was very similar to the one he was holding. Each wound had been painful and terrifying. It surprised Wesley that Pryce could actually feel scared, especially given the demon's arrogance. Wesley wondered if the stake would be like the sun in his dream. Would his death be instantaneous, or would he feel the weapon enter his body and pierce all the tissues before it hit his heart.
Of course there was another, much less drastic, option. Wesley knew he could manage the demon. He just had to find out the potency and duration of action of blood from the blood bank. He refused to take anymore from his friends, though enemies might be fair game. Wesley smiled at the thought but he was stopped in his thoughts by a word from someone.
"Wesley?" He was surprised he hadn't noticed Fred enter the room. So wrapped up in his existential crisis, he had tuned out the rest of the hotel.
Now that he knew Fred was here, all of his senses were again drowned in her sounds, her smell, and the vision she granted him. Even this morning, when she was obviously still bedraggled from just waking up, she was still quite fetching. The only thing wrong with the picture was her expression. She was worried and nervous. That set her face into a sad and quivering frown with eyes that were impossibly wide. That she still had traces of Gunn's smell about her was to be expected and so Wesley tried to ignore it.
Wesley realized he was still holding the stake, so he quickly placed it back on the night stand and turned to Fred, who was ever so slowly moving into the room. "Did you need something?" The words came out harsher than he intended. Much as he enjoyed her company, Wesley didn't want Fred here now.
Fred moved and sat down on the bed next to Wesley. The vampire was tempted to stand and move away. The noise and scent that Fred generated were nearly overwhelming. For instance, her heart provided a fast but steady rhythm. Fred answered "Nope, just wanted to check in on you. What were you doing with that stake there?"
Wesley decided to use a habit he developed at the Watcher's Academy and while doing research with literal deadlines. He could, when needed, filter out distractions and focus on what was important. At the moment Fred deserved an answer and not a vampire who was still stupefied by all that she was "I was just considering my options, I am not really needed here any longer."
"What the hell does that mean? Were you just thinking of dusting yourself!? And of course you're needed." Fred didn't seem to like his response. During the multiple questions she reached across him and grabbed the stake. Her earlier nervousness about him and his demon didn't seem to be around this morning.
Wesley had been on the receiving end of a number of tirades by formidable women. The most memorable being Buffy and Cordelia. This time he was well and truly frightened. Fred was no Slayer, but she was someone to be reckoned with, and it didn't help that she was holding a deadly weapon. Wesley had to be careful here "Among other things, yes, ending my existence had crossed my mind. I would be remiss in not considering it, my actions last night, I attempted to kill Connor and yet again, you."
"And just like last time, that wasn't you, it was something in you. Besides, in the truck you fought with your demon and won, I wanted to thank you for that." Fred's voice grew softer with her thanks.
Wesley remembered the end of the night, how close Pryce had come to killing Fred. Just like with Billy, he could see and feel everything but he was unable to control anything. "Interesting, the incident in the truck would seem to recommend my removal. However; you're welcome."
Fred dropped the stake. One of her hands grabbed his hand while the other stroked and cupped his cheek, making sure he couldn't look away. "Wesley, you gotta listen to me, okay?" The vampire nodded and marveled at warm her hands were, and Fred continued "Without you around, Connor would still be in a hell dimension, and I'd be dead."
Wesley mumbled "If it weren't for me, he would've never went away, and you would have never been in danger."
Fred heard the mumble and that just made her more incensed "Would you just stop, a bunch of things went horribly wrong recently. But I've realized something, this group needs to stay together. Now, you said last night that you cared about me, right?
"Certainly, you're extraordinary, surviving where you did and then choosing to stay with us when you had a chance at a normal life." Wesley was wondering if Fred possessed some sort of power, the warmth he was being given, that she was acting as a truth serum.
Fred applied gentle pressure with her hands and blushed "Wow, well Wesley, would it change your mind if I told you I need you, and would like the chance to show you that I care too?"
"It would make my decision that much more difficult, but it doesn't make any sense, your relationship with Gunn isn't having any trouble as far as I can tell. But more importantly, how could you just suddenly switch like that?" Wesley wanted to draw away from the warmth and clear affection.
Fred took her hand off of his hand and cupped his face with what felt like two heating pads. She lowered and softened her voice. "Wesley, it's not sudden at all. It started when I saw your dead body, and it finished in the truck."
"What do you mean?" Wesley was confused, how could his death and nearly killing her precipitate such a change?
Fred let go of his face, and Wesley already missed that pleasant touch "When I was in Pylea, most of the time, I was alone. Now that I'm part of this group, there was some part of me that didn't think anything could change that. And then you died. Charles is sweet, and fun, and I like him a lot. But Wesley, back in that hospital room, I felt like I was back in that cave again. For all the bad stuff we've been through. There was good too. You listened when I was loopy, and you saw past that."
"And how does the incident in the truck factor into this?" Wesley was starting to see Fred's point. Everyone was indulgent of her quirks. But he could see who she was, underneath all the trauma she suffered, there was someone special there.
Fred looked Wesley over. Physically, he seemed better than last night. It was his demeanor that hadn't changed. In fact, he seemed more haunted than before. She opted for another gesture, she hoped it would help. It served instead as a sure way to crush Wesley's defenses and let her in. She scooted over and hugged Wesley. And again she whispered "Wes, like I said before, you fought. It wasn't the first time you've done that for me. And before that you told me how you felt about me. Can I please share those feelings?"
"You don't even have to ask, it's your choice, I wouldn't dream of denying it." Wesley was overcome by her words and proximity. Any thoughts of leaving his existence had been replaced by an intense want to stay by the side of the woman he had come to cherish. That she had all but said she loved him in return had helped him accept her. Really, though, that she chose to seal it by wrapping him in an embrace that felt very much like the sun in his dream. When she partly pulled away, he wondered why for a moment when she moved back in with a kiss.
If her touch felt like the light from the sun, than this was like touching its surface. Without the instant immolation that would produce. After it was done Fred pulled and asked "So, it's settled right? You're sticking around?"
"Thank you Fred. Yeah, I'm not going anywhere. What about Gunn though, does he know?" Wesley had to focus again, this new development could cause another rift that might be dangerous for all involved in this business.
Fred frowned slightly, but she could see why he asked after his friend. He had said he didn't want to come between her and Charles. "We talked last night and this morning, I told Charles what happened and how I felt."
"How did he take it? I have an inkling of his feelings for you." Wesley was wondering how that conversation had gone, he was grateful to be asleep during it.
Fred remembered how it went. Charles seemed to accept it. Like he expected it really. She said as much "He wasn't mad, he just wanted to know why, and I already told you and I told him too."
"That's good I suppose, as long as you both worked it out." Wesley wanted to keep the awkward encounters with Gunn to a minimum. Especially now that Wesley was part of a group of creatures that Gunn used to kill nearly every night.
Fred smiled and really pulled herself away. She stood up, rubbed a hand over her new sweetheart's shoulder, and before leaving the room said "We did, I'm gonna go get cleaned up and look in on Angel and Connor. Cordy and Groo are coming back tonight. You should figure out how you're going to break the news to them."
After Fred left, Wesley was back to being tense again. Cordelia was a friend. He cared what she thought of him. In spite of recent developments between him and Fred, along with the reunion of Angel and Connor. He wondered how Cordelia would react to everything that had gone on. Not to mention the threats against the group.
Holtz was still out there. Wolfram & Hart could be counted on to give them trouble. And then there was the voice in his sleep, whatever threat that represented, Wesley hoped it wasn't as dire as the voice promised. There was only one other question he had to consider. Should he tell his friends about what may be heading their way? Though Wesley had no clue what sort of minions the voice had at its command.
