By Misty Flores – mistyjox@hotmail.com
Teaser: Lorne has his hands full when three men who love three brunettes reveal three stories that meld surprisingly – and the three brunettes go missing.
Genre: Angel: The Series, Comedy/Romance/Action
Pairing: Angel/Cordelia, Gunn/Fred, Wesley/Faith
Rating: R for sexual situations
Special Thanks to: Vanessa, and her beautiful beta reading abilities.
Additional Notes on previous chapters.
--
CHAPTER TEN
Friday Night – Universal City
Cordelia shivered in the night air, drawing her long overcoat closer to her body as she stepped out of the Cineplex. The Universal Citywalk was illuminated with lights, crowded with tourists. The music blared from the huge screen over the catwalk. Beside her, Faith seemed as bothered by the crowd as she was, moving closer to her side, zipping up the leather jacket she had borrowed and whistling low under her breath.
"Fucking lot of people here, Cor."
"It's a Friday night, nimrod, what did you expect?" Cordelia snapped distractedly, suddenly overtaken with a memory of the last time she was here. It had been with Angel. Kicking and screaming, she had dragged him to the movie. He had complained about the long lines and the astronomical prices, altogether becoming a big old whiner, until the lights dimmed.
Minutes crept by, and then an arm slipped around her. With only a tub of popcorn between them, Cordelia spent the entire time completely aware of him. His fingers as they caressed her forearm, bringing her in closer to his side. His lips on her ear as he asked if she wanted more popcorn. The leather coat he placed over her shoulders when she shivered from the touch…
Suddenly the last place she wanted to be was at the theatre. "How about that drink?" she asked breathlessly.
"That's what I came for," Faith snapped, following Cordelia through the crowd, letting her eyes linger on a young man who kept his gaze on them, an appreciative smile on his face. Shaking away the irrational feeling of guilt, she turned, moving closer to the Seer, as Cordelia weaved expertly through the crowds.
Drones of people still unnerved Faith. The Slayer had never been comfortable with bodies rubbing together like sardines anyway. Well, after her redemption-ist fest, that was. Before, it had exhilarated her. Now, it made her feel cornered, and cornered and trapped were two reactions that never helped her now that she was Miss Goodie Two Shoes. Especially, since that seemed to come hand in hand with violence.
"You just HAD to pick a 'guys killing other guys with guns,' didn't ya 'C," she grumbled under her breath. "Like giving an alcoholic beer, ya know?"
Cordelia heard it, turning back to pin her with her hazel eyes. "Ok, to say you scare me, doesn't even scratch the surface," she muttered.
Faith reached out, keeping hold of Cordelia's arm as she turned up the escalators, and found herself in an even more crowded place, complete with a bowling alley and, FINALLY, a bar.
She wanted to get drunk, to get completely wasted off her ass, because then she'd have an excuse to hunt him down. Then maybe, she could kill him, or even worse, plead, get on her knees like a damned prissy, and beg that damned Ex-Watcher to love her. To hold her and not take it back.
She shuddered at the betraying thoughts, raking fingers through her long dark hair, motioning to the bartender with a wave of her hand, trying desperately to push them away. Cordelia's eyes were on her, and Faith realized that she had chosen to drink, and consequently, bond, with quite possibly the most perceptive chick alive.
Shit.
"Something's going on with you." Cordelia's tone was flat.
Eyes closing in self recrimination, Faith took a moment to gather her strength. Opening them again when she felt she had enough gumption, she smiled lewdly at the bartender, leaning forward to straddle the bar stool. "Hey," she said breezily. "What do you have here that's hard and fast?"
The bartender choked, and Cordelia's lower jaw dropped slightly, but the Slayer only winked suggestively. A hand latched on her forearm, pulling her back down to her seat. Faith shot the Seer a glare, but Cordelia only glared back – and shit, she had an icy stare for being such a prissy- and spoke evenly to the poor guy behind the bar.
"Two Malibu rums with pineapple juice. On the rocks. Now." Turning to her, Cordelia let out an aggravated huff. "What, you go zero to slut in 2.5 seconds?"
"Faster," Faith said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
"What is up with you?" Cordelia asked, leaning against the bar, hazel eyes darkening. "I've met some skitzo's in my day before, but you…" she trailed off, mind suddenly whirling. After a second of silence, her eyes widened with clarity, and she smiled. "Wesley."
At the word, Faith reacted, self-satisfied smirk faltering, hands gripping at the counter.
"HA!" Cordelia nearly rose out of her stool, a look of triumph on her face. "It's him, isn't it?"
"What?! You're crazy," Faith said, turning away. Warm ambience began to burn through her cheeks, and panic was quickly settling in, making her body tremble and her hands shake, as they reached for the drinks the bartender set forth.
"What the hell happened between you two?"
"Cordelia." The tone was low, dangerous enough for Cordelia to lose her self-confidence, as remnants of the killer she had once known came back, in the glinting eyes, the hostile stare. "Leave it alone."
There was admittance there, and Cordelia, mind reeling with her newfound discovery, would have pressed onwards, dangerous as it was, had her mind not suddenly tingled.
"Faith…" she began slowly.
"Fuck off."
"Faith, CATCH ME!" Faith's anger rapidly dwindled as she stumbled off the stool, just in time to catch Cordelia's flailing body. The Seer crumpled to the floor, wailing in a painful, agonizing scream. The crowded bar suddenly focused all its attention on them, but Faith could have cared less, gathering Cordelia closer to her, trying to ride out the vision by holding on to her trembling body.
"Fuck, Cordy! Cordy!" Her words were breathless, scared, holding her down with a strength that would leave bruises, but Cordelia was unheeding, tears streaming from her eyes.
"Somebody call an ambulance!"
"No!" Faith's head jerked up, licking her lips as her voice came out hoarse. "Just… just don't. She's… one of those people, that gets those seizures. Those… seizure people."
Cordelia whimpered in her embrace, burying her face in Faith's shoulder, clinging to her tightly. "Get me out," she whispered thickly.
Scarcely able to hear the soft spoken word, she nevertheless obeyed immediately, gathering Cordelia to her and picking her up effortlessly, pushing through the crowd.
"MOVE, you bastard." Shoving aside a guy trying to help, Faith continued to move, pulling Cordelia with her. The cold night air hit her face with a burst of wind, and it relieved her, as she continued to walk, until they got to the parking structure. Quickly, she set Cordelia down on the bench, leaning down to cup her friend's head between her palms. "Cor? What's wrong? What'd you see?"
Cordelia sucked in her breath heavily, closing her eyes and leaning forward, letting Faith support her through the splintering pain. "Call Angel," she said, pushing out the words as well as she could.
--
The Present – Kate Lockley's Apartment
"Does it bother you?"
Fred looked up, her eyes darkened in confusion as she gazed curiously on the blonde detective.
"What?" she asked softly.
Kate shrugged slightly, pulling her head back to the kitchen, where the Slayer and the Seer were talking in low whispers. "Awfully chummy for only a few days."
Fred's mouth pursed, looking over Kate's shoulder to study the two. "Yeah…" she admitted, shrugging. "They kinda are. I guess, they've got the kyerumption, thing too… but not the moira," she said decidedly. Her face froze hesitantly. "At least I hope not."
Kate stifled the smirk, shaking her head. She leaned forward. "I mean… does it bother that they're… you were alone in this, Fred."
The words drifted to a soft whisper. Kate kept her gaze on the young physicist earnestly, trying to understand what it was that made her seem so fragile, when the events she had described had more than proven the younger woman was stronger than most. Mulling over the sentence, Fred's face was one of contemplation, as she let out a shaky breath. "I guess… I never really thought about it," she admitted. "I… before, it was always about turning to Angel. And now, I had to figure it out on my own, just like Pylea. It was scary, but… I didn't want to lose Gunn's trust, ya know? He's… special." Fred swallowed down the emotion, a soft shudder coming through her body. "I guess I never thought about them not being there. I knew… if I made them listen, they would. Just like the vision."
Kate's eyes narrowed. "The vision?"
"Cordelia's vision last night. Or two nights ago…" Fred shifted a glance to Kate's wall mounted clock, frowning at the time. "She was so mad at Angel - but she called him, 'cause someone was in trouble."
"Fred…"
"It was just as much my fault," Fred finally said quickly, cheeks tinting a darker red as she put down the bottle of nail polish. "Angel and Cordy and Wesley and even Faith, they were all hurtin', right? But… where was I? Sleepin' with Gunn…"
"So you did sleep with Gunn." Faith crossed her arms, a smirk floating on her features as she and Cordelia re-entered the living room.
"If you mean, like slept in the same bed, then yes," Fred answered. "'Cause that's what we did."
"Did you get a hold of Angel?" Kate asked Cordelia.
The two brunettes seated on the couch exchanged glances, before Cordelia slowly shook her head in the negative. "No," she responded. "He doesn't know how to check his voicemail."
--
Friday Night – The Hyperion Hotel
Steps that seemed heavier than they were, stumbled into the Hyperion. A trenchcoat was shrugged off, and Angel, with eyes that were intense and full of anger and sorrow, left his coat on the orange sofa, walking up the stairs. As he rounded the corner, shutting the door to the nursery, he didn't hear the ringing of his cellphone, from the confines of his coat.
--
Friday Night – Universal Citywalk
Cordelia's mind was splintered with pain. Her breath was ragged, sucking coughs that jolted her brain in her skull, sending tiny, dagger-like pinpoints of pain through her body. She trembled openly, sobbing into her hands, unable to stop. Faith sucked in her breath, snapping the cellphone shut, turning back toward the Seer, grabbing her hands and holding tightly. "Okay, okay, I called him," she said hastily. "Just… stop crying, okay? I'm - I left a message."
Cordelia sucked in her breath, trying to sort out the pain in a blatant attempt not to let it overwhelm her, even as her body slipped and Faith caught her, setting her right again. Gulping in instinct, she gripped Faith's hands tighter, her forehead resting on Faith's shoulder. "What do you mean," she managed. "You left a message?!"
"On his cellphone. No one was picking up."
"FUCK." At the use of the word that Faith had almost monopolized, the Slayer froze slightly.
"What?"
"He doesn't know how to check his voicemail," Cordelia answered, irritation allowing her some focus. "Call Wesley."
"FUCK no."
"FAITH -"
"I'm not calling him, Cor." Faith swallowed hard, handing back the phone. She wasn't calling him. No way, no how. Those damned people could just save themselves, and that was that. She wasn't drunk enough to hear that voice -
"Are you out of your mind?" Cordelia's tone was angry now, her eyes narrowing at the brunette. "Faith, we have to help these people. CALL HIM."
"I'll help them." Faith forced her words around the painful lump in her throat, dark eyes intense on Cordelia's. "I'll help them, okay? Just tell me where they are and I'll go. But don't make me call him."
The hazel tinted orbs flashed slightly, but Faith only stared earnestly, never having pleaded for anything before now, never imagining she would be begging the Seer the way she was at this moment. Her voice was broken, her tone was harried. It was unlike anything she had ever done before.
And Cordelia knew it.
Maybe that was why the Seer bit back the pain, closed her eyes, and finally nodded.
"Help me up. Let's go."
--
The Present – The Hyperion Hotel
Soft hands nudged at him, shaking him slightly.
Charles resisted the pull from his sleep, grumbling something intelligible as he wrapped himself further around the couch. The movement caught him off balance, and suddenly his stomach twisted as he landed on the floor, now fully awake.
"Oww."
"Sorry." Wesley offered him a soft smile. Gunn scratched at his head, blinking sleepily as he hitched in his breath, pushing himself back towards the couch.
Glancing at it, he let his hands run over the fabric, and then turned to his friend. "You said Angel can smell stuff, right?"
Wesley seated himself beside him with a painful sigh, leaning his head back on the couch, closing his eyes. "Yes. Why?"
"'Cause…" Charles wasn't sure exactly how to proceed, and now felt promptly sorry he had brought the subject up in the first place. "Nothing."
Pushing himself up and over the cushions, he plopped down on the couch, looking just as tired as Wesley, crossing his arms and mimicking his friend's position.
"Hey, Wes."
"Mmm."
"You really like Faith?" English's eyes opened warily, the blue darkening at the question, wariness apparent. Charles sensed the suspicion, and shook his head in an attempt to alleviate any misconceptions before they began. "I just… did you? I'm not being judgmental or anything. You really think people can change?"
Wesley was quiet, never answering the question, in favor of asking one of his own. "What do you mean, Charles?"
"I just…" Gunn struggled for the right words. "What if someone comes to you, tells you they want to change, and all that… you believe them?"
"I suppose it depends on their intentions."
"Did you believe Faith?"
Wesley shuffled in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the entire conversation. He considered telling Charles to let the subject rest, but found the earnest dark eyes of his friend staring at him, almost desperate for an answer.
"Not at first," he said finally, voice low and even. "But Faith has always been a rather conflicted person. One thing she had never faulted on, however, is loyalty, provided that you do not betray that. She must feel needed. In that she's much like Cordelia." He was quiet for a second, pondering, before he turned his bruised face to study Gunn. "Why do you ask?"
Charles sighed, smoothing a palm over his face in a tired gesture. "It's why Fred's pissed at me. There's this chick… her name's Justine…"
Audible steps behind them cut the conversation short. Angel stepped forward, Connor in his arms, wrinkling his nose as he drifted by the couch.
"What?" Lorne asked, coming up behind him.
"Gunn, wash that couch tomorrow," Angel snapped shortly. "The last thing I want is to explain to Cordelia why I'm not sitting on it anymore."
Charles turned bright red.
--
Friday Night – The Hyperion Hotel
The ringing cell phone broke him from a hazy sleep. Gunn opened heavy, sleep laden eyelids, pushing himself up on an elbow, not daring to ruin the peaceful slumber of the waif girl in his arms.
Fred's bed was smaller than most, and there wasn't much room to maneuver as he stroked the strands away from her hair in distraction, pushing with his hips to get at the phone in his pocket. Fumbling hastily, he cursed when the ringing made her stir, brown eyes blinking open to view him with curiosity, when he flipped open the damned thing, holding it up to his ear.
"Yeah."
"Gunn." The voice on the other end was unfamiliar at first. Fred, leaning her chin on his left pectoral, snuggled contentedly into his side, rubbed at his bare chest in an unspoken question. He gave her a shrug.
"Yeah?"
"It's Justine."
His expression froze, something Fred noticed, sitting up to stare at him. Choosing to keep his eyes away from her face, he shifted to the side, away from her. "What are doing callin' me, Ju- girl?"
The other end was quiet, and when the female voice spoke, she seemed to have taken a less aggressive approach. "Is your girlfriend there?"
Resisting the urge to look over his shoulder, he nodded. "Yeah, she's here."
"Oh. Gunn… Rondell gave me your number. Told me to tell you to meet us…"
"Yeah, he told me last night," Charles snapped, unintentionally snatching his hand away when Fred's disconcerting touch drifted over it. Realizing what he had done, he jerked his head, offering her a pained smile. The insecurity on the beautiful girl's face drifted away to reveal one of concern.
'Who is it?' she mouthed.
He gave her a blank stare as Justine continued to talk, "Right, well… Okay, shit. Look… I wanted to talk to you, about the vampire."
"What about him?"
"I … did some research. Just… he's got a kid, right?"
"Justine, what the hell do you want?" Gunn snapped, losing patience finally.
"It's JUSTINE?!" Fred's eyes widened, and then narrowed into slits.
"Fred, shhh."
"She doesn't like me, does she?" Justine asked frankly.
"You 'ain't on my list either, girl."
"FUCK, Gunn. You know what it's like to lose a sister, right?" He paused, the sudden tightening in his chest constricting his breath slightly. "What?"
"I lost my sister to vampires, Gunn. I thought Rondell told you. That's why I'm doing this with Holtz, I thought you'd understand - forget it."
"Justine, wait- JUST - "
The line disconnected. Gunn sighed, shutting the phone off, throwing it on the bed in an expression of frustration.
"What did she want?" Fred asked, pulling on her shirt, eyes wide.
His throat was drier than he expected. He had to cough, clear his throat before he could answer. "I don't know… she sounded weird. Said she lost her sister to the vamps."
Fred pursed her lips, reaching for her glasses and slipping them on. "Charles, you don't believe her, do you?"
He leaned back on the bed, face contemplative, wriggling sock covered toes. "Fred… she doesn't strike me as evil, ya know? Maybe… she's just on the wrong side… could have happened to me."
Their eyes met, implication clear in the words. Fred shared one intense look with her friend before she crossed around the bed, settling into the spot he left for her, letting him absentmindedly slide a hand around her waist.
"But it didn't," she recriminated softly, caressing his cheek gently. "You're a good man."
He tensed, squeezing her palm lightly. "Fred, what the hell am I doing?" he asked earnestly. "I don't know what I'm doin'. But I'm pulling people in with me left and right. I pulled you in with me, and look at us, Fred. We don't know what's gonna happen tonight. I don't know what I'm going to do-"
"Charles." She silenced him with a tender thumb sliding down his cheek, pausing on his lower lip. "Look at me." He closed his eyes, but obediently opened them again, resting his gaze on her with hope and sadness. "You'll do what's in your heart. And I'm here, because I want to be. I mean, it's not as if I could go anywhere, 'cause you have the car, and all, but you … know what I mean," she said, shaking her head, trying to stop her rambling. "You'll make your choice."
"And if I make the wrong one?"
"You won't."
The confidence in her tone undid him. His heart sank. She had complete faith in him, it was clear. It was there, in her sweet smile. Unshed tears betrayed the affect she had on him, and he choked with them, pulling her to him softly for one, desperate, lingering kiss. It was all he could afford. He didn't deserve her, yet. He wasn't sure if he ever would.
"Fred."
The door wrapped furiously. Fred and Gunn sprang apart, the voice at the entrance dominating and almost angry.
Angel. SHIT.
He didn't dare make a sound, pushing Fred off of him and reaching for his shirt, readjusting his belt. Fred licked her lips, trying desperately to still her beating heart, wondering why she was so afraid, as she answered timidly, "Angel?"
"Can I come in? Is Gunn in there with you?"
"Umm…" Shit. He had forgotten about Angel's vampy sense of smell. Fred reached up to open the door, and instinctively, he grabbed her arm, shaking his head fiercely, pleadingly. She gave him a comforting smile, squeezing back before delicately releasing herself from his grip, moving to the door and swinging it open, adjusting her skirt and shirt.
"Angel!"
A broody vampire, the likes of which she had only seen upon their return to Pylea, stared mournfully. Hands were dug deep into his pockets, sunken brown eyes gazed at her intensely. Immediately her fake smile faltered.
"What's wrong?"
"I-uh… nothing." He managed a grim smile, looking around her shoulder and spotting Gunn sitting stiffly on the bed. "What's he doing here?"
"Gunn and I were reading!" Fred piped up, her tone a trifle squeaky in her uneasiness. "And we fell asleep… on the bed. That's why the sheets are rumpled and… why his shoes are over there…"
Angel's dark, observant orbs lingered over Gunn's expression, but apparently it was a lucky day for both of them, because he didn't dwell on the obvious evidence of their 'friendly' playtime, or more importantly, SNIFF. "Have you seen Faith?"
"Faith?"
"Psycho slayer girl?" Gunn stood, making sure to stay a good distance away, downwind. "Nuh-uh. Not for a while."
"Oh." Angel turned to Fred. "Fred?"
She shook her head fiercely. "Nope. Actually, she kinda scares me, so I'd stay away from her anyway, 'cause you know… the leather and the tattoos… not really my type, right? Gunn? Umm…" she shut her mouth, blushing, and pushing the straggling hairs of her bangs away from her eyes.
Angel gave her a blank look. "Okay. Look… I'm going to go take Connor off of Lorne's hands. Just… if she calls or something… tell her I want to talk to her."
"Sure, but… we're going somewhere tonight… me and Gunn."
Charles stiffened behind her, as Angel said curiously, "Where are you going?"
She swallowed, glancing behind her at the tall, dark, proud man. Gunn was frozen to the floor. It would be so easy to just tell Angel, have him go and kick Holtz's ass, free Charles from a decision he didn't want to make. A decision he had to make.
"The movies. A French film."
That, at least, earned a smile from the tired vampire. "You're going to see a French film, Gunn?"
Charles, interrupted from his previous activity of staring at Fred in shock, shook himself out of his gaze. "Huh? Yeah, dude! French films… kick serious ass. With the… French speaking, and all."
"Right." Angel sighed heavily, licking his lips and stepping back. "I'm going for Connor. Look, just… if you see Cordelia or Faith, let me know. I'll be on my cell… which is in my trenchcoat," Angel said, suddenly realizing as he patted at his coat pockets. "She could have called, and I wouldn't have heard it!"
"Faith?" Fred asked helpfully.
"Huh? No - Cordy!" He ran from the room, thundering down the hallway with large, booming bounds.
Gunn looked down after him, hand on Fred's shoulder. "What's his trip?"
Fred gave him a shrug. "Cordy's mad at him."
"Again?" Fred nodded, and Charles rolled his eyes. She gave him a smile, and turned away.
"I guess we should get ready."
"Oh… right." Feeling suddenly awkward, Gunn placed his hands in his pockets, fearing that they would just fidget and break something. Following the little physicist with his gaze, he cocked his head, tongue suddenly large and dry in his mouth. "Uh… Fred?"
"Hmm?"
"Why didn't you tell Angel?"
She paused. An unfamiliar expression floated past her features. "It's wasn't mine to tell," she said simply, flashing him a brief smile, before reaching for a comb. Gunn swallowed, shutting back the obvious emotion, ignoring the empty pit in his stomach as he stood, in the middle of Fred's room. He had a bad feeling about tonight. A hell of a bad feeling. The last thing he wanted to do was go down.
No, scratch that, he mentally noted, when she once again glanced at him, comfortable enough to smile at him again. His heart ached at the gesture. No… the last thing he wanted to do, was bring her down with him.
--
The Present – Kate Lockley's Apartment
It was late, or early, Cordelia noted, checking the time on the clock on Kate's wall. Too late, too early. The headache that had been brought on by the earlier vision, still hadn't quite gone away. It was ringing in her temples, and the gnawing in her stomach, the increased uneasiness that was quickly becoming nausea, was not helping.
Taking a breath, Cordelia dipped her hand in the running water, letting the drops fall from her fingertips, before leaning forward, splashing her forehead with it. The cold tingled her nerves slightly, and it made things a little better, for about a second. The pounding continued to resonate. Cordelia tried once again to ignore it, looking into the mirror, finding a tired woman staring back. God, was she really only twenty-one? Was this what twenty-one was supposed to feel like? Gripping the edge of the sink, she continued to study the image, letting her mind whirl.
Faith and Wesley, Kate and Lorne, Gunn and Fred. Hopelessly lost friends, who had turned to each other for support, had turned to HER for support. A family that had been thrown together by chance, was now drifting apart by her own carelessness. God, even Faith, who had only been with them a week, called her Mommy. It had been a passing reference, but the responsibility behind it was scary. 'Mommy and Daddy were a little too obsessed to care.' Too involved in her own increasingly grim future, in her fury at a vampire who had tried to save her by pushing her away, too absorbed in trying to end at least a little bit of pain, she had almost lost all of them under her very nose.
There was too much information in her debilitating mind, too much responsibility, and for a moment, she resented it. She hadn't asked for this. She hadn't wanted to care so much, to have Faith and Fred both look at her as if she was some Yoda. She wasn't. She was only twenty-one years old. She was dying. She couldn't even remember her own rules.
She was completely in love with a vampire, with a soul. Their link to each other, their reason for being a unit, had nearly been destroyed because she had fallen in love with him. Because of her, he would have left them all. And she couldn't do this alone.
"Cor?"
Faith's voice drifted though the wooden door, and it startled her.
"Yeah?" she asked warily.
"You need scissors or something? You're taking a hell of a long time."
Cordelia closed her eyes, letting a morose smile caress her features. "Nice, Faith. Really nice imagery there." After a moment, she shut off the valve, straightening up. "I'm coming," she said finally.
"All right… 'Cause I can break the door down, you know that, right?" Cordelia opened the door, smiling at Faith's concerned expression. "You okay?"
"A little pissed," Cordelia answered, shaking slightly at the pain, holding the still wet hand to her face, in an attempt to cool off her too hot body. "I'm fine," she lied. "Let's go."
--
Friday Night – Bossa Nova in Hollywood
Virginia's curls had been cut into a stylish cascade, barely reaching her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, expressive, and her face, in that picture perfect smile, was as always, mesmerizing. But Wesley's found himself instead wishing for brown, instead of red. His fingers twitched nervously, his appetite long gone.
"Thanks again for doing this, Wesley." Wesley shot the heiress a distracted smile, grateful that she had at least picked a place that wasn't so… ritzy, for the after gala meal.
"Virginia, I did mean what I said. If you ever needed help," he said, keeping his eyes on the Sunset strip. Across the street, the strip club's lights were blinking steadily.
"I know, and I appreciate that." Virginia managed a quick grin. "I mean, I'm like, a demon magnet."
"It was nothing." It was more than nothing, what with Wesley completely distracted by his whirling thoughts, to pay too much attention to the blackmailing demon he had hacked apart. It was a physical job, and it had been hard, something Angel, or rather, Faith could have taken care of, much more easily.
"Wes?"
"Hmm."
"What's wrong?" His blue eyes caught her worried gaze. Virginia had a runaway mouth, much like Cordelia, and Wesley appreciated the frankness.
"I'm afraid, it's nothing you can help me with," he answered, picking at his food. The table was quiet again, and he didn't notice her shifting across from him, the almost unsure way his Virginia was acting. He wondered exactly where the rest of Angel Investigations were, tonight. Hopefully, Angel had gotten a chance to talk to Faith… to do what he could not. He had given the girl the last thing she needed, and had taken her delicate trust and thrown it out the window, instead.
"It's good to see you again, Wesley."
He looked up, once again torn from his brooding. "Likewise."
"Wesley." A warm palm drifted on top of his. Once again forced to look at his old girlfriend, Wesley ignored the thump in his heart, and resisted the urge to compare green eyes to brown, marvel at the lack of brilliance compared to that of a Slayers.
Good, God. He was on the verge of falling in love. Closing his eyes, he breathed out a labored sigh.
"Yes?" he asked heavily.
"Why do I get the feeling, this is the last place you want to be? Are you still mad at me?"
He stared at her blankly, and finally realized the question. "What? No, Virginia, this has nothing to do with you."
She looked almost disappointed in that, her hand retracting, settling into her lap, beautiful face conflicted. "Oh. There's someone else. Because, I was kinda hoping… that- I mean… after tonight, and seeing you again…"
"Virginia…" Wesley's form stiffened, realizing what she was trying to say with a sinking heart. "Please…"
Movement at the window caught his eyes, as he reached for Virginia's hand, holding it tenderly. Turning toward the peeping toms, he recognized the two faces, staring into the window.
One pair of eyes held blank confusion. The other pair held anger, betrayal, and heartbreak.
"Good God," he breathed in, frozen in his shock, his nightmare suddenly becoming ever more real. "Faith."
--
end chapter
- contrary to popular belief, I do not actively torture people for
the fun of it. I had no time, or I would have had another chapter. I'll
try to make up for it tomorrow. Thanks for the support. :-) Misty