***Special Note: Thanks to all those who offered feedback and thanks to my cheerleader and beta Kel. This story will be continued in a series of stories I'm in the process of writing. Look for the very first installment within days.***
**********
When Cordelia stepped into the Hyperion, Fred was waiting patiently for her at her desk. Seeing the girl, Cordelia couldn't stop the frown that was forming on her face. She had let the girl down. Fred had been depending on Cordelia to talk some sense into Wesley, to bring him back into the fold.
Now as Fred eagerly got to her feet to greet her, Cordelia could only think about how she had failed her.
"Did you see him?" Fred asked, the expectation clearly etched across her delicate features.
"Yeah, I did," Cordelia sighed, removing her jacket and placing it across the back of her chair.
"And?"
"And it sucked, Fred," she replied, flopping down into her chair. She leaned forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she added, "It completely and utterly sucked."
"Oh," Fred replied quietly, the disappointment evident in her voice. She stood silently before Cordelia for a moment before asking, "And the woman I saw?"
"The Slayer," Cordelia mumbled without thinking.
Fred hesitated for a moment before raising a curious eyebrow. "The Slayer?"
Cordelia simply nodded, staring off into space.
"But…but I thought she was blonde…."
Cordelia finally snapped back to reality, looking up at Fred apologetically. "No, not Buffy," she explained. "Faith."
"The Slayer," Fred simply repeated, a slight frown on her face.
"Yes."
"But you guys said that there could only be one for every generation. And if Buffy's a Slayer, and this Faith girl's a Slayer… That's not logistically possible."
"How long have you worked with us, Fred?" Cordelia asked, sitting back in her chair. "Anything is logistically possible." She sighed as she began to explain, "When Buffy died the first time, another Slayer was called to replace her. When that Slayer bit the big one, Faith was called. Hence, the two Slayers."
"That makes sense… I guess," Fred replied, her brow furrowing gently.
Silence fell between the women again before Fred asked quietly, "How was he?"
Cordelia shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I don't know. I didn't really take the time to ask.…"
"But you guys talked, right? And by talked, I don't mean yelled at each other."
Cordelia ran her finger back and forth across the smooth finish of her desk as she replied, "I don't know about yelling, but… But some things were definitely said."
"Good things?" Fred asked, her voice perked with hope.
Cordelia took a deep breath before turning her eyes to Fred's. "Some."
"Do you think he'll… he'll come back?"
"If he's a smart man, he won't," Angel growled from the doorway.
Taken aback by his sudden appearance, both women's eyes flew to him instantly.
He stood tall in the doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He watched them, a deep frown on his lips.
Fred turned her eyes away nervously as Cordelia held his stare, never wavering under his piercing gaze. Fred looked to Cordelia before stammering, "Maybe I should do some research on that one case we looked at that one time."
Her head slightly down, a nervous smile twitching upon her face, Fred squeezed past Angel in the doorway. His eyes followed her as she passed him, and he turned his head slightly to watch her depart over his shoulder. He listened to her footsteps quickly departing up the hotel staircase before turning his attention back to Cordelia.
"You can just wipe that you've-betrayed-me-Cordy look off your face, Angel," she frowned, watching him as he continued to hover in the doorway.
"You went and saw him," he grumbled in response.
"Yes, I did," she replied, standing and leaning back against the edge of her desk.
"You went and saw him," Angel repeated darkly.
Cordelia nodded. "I think we've established that, Angel."
Angel nodded slightly as he finally stepped into the office. He strode past Cordelia and towards the bookcase behind her desk. "So," he replied, pulling a book partly from the shelving. "How is Wesley?" He pushed the book back into place, turning to Cordelia.
Cordelia frowned, knowing that Angel truly didn't care how the man was. "He's… he's okay."
"He's okay," Angel replied with a nod. He turned back to the bookcase, slowly removing the book he had had in his hands moments before. With a growl, he turned and hurled the book angrily across the room.
Cordelia felt herself jump as the book collided violently with the wall behind her.
Angel's eyes burned with contempt as he growled, "That bastard doesn't deserve okay. He deserves to feel what I feel—the pain, the suffering." He balled his fist tightly as he continued, "He deserves to have what little spine he has ripped from his body."
Cordelia flinched slightly as she watched Angel's angry fist jerk upward.
Taking a moment to calm himself, he recrossed his arms, asking, "So what did you and Wesley talk about?"
"The crappy LA weather," Cordelia frowned. "Angel, you know exactly what we talked about."
"How he handed my child over to my worst enemy?"
She turned her chair to face him before sitting down. "Actually," she sighed, "he never planned to give Connor to Holtz."
"And I'm supposed to believe him because?"
Cordelia leaned forward, resting her arms against her thighs and clasping her hands together. "Because that's what he told me. Yes, he was taking Connor away, but he was going away as well. He was going to raise Connor away from LA until he felt the danger had passed."
Angel grunted in response, shaking his head slightly.
"Okay, I know that doesn't make what he did any better, but it does change things, Angel. How, I don't know, but it does."
"Changes things?" Angel said, his voice dripping with bitterness. "My son is still gone. Into a hell dimension, Cordelia."
"I know," Cordelia replied quietly, sitting back in her chair.
Angel watched Cordelia for a moment, his arms never unfolding but his muscles relaxing slightly. "My son is still gone, and Wesley's still alive. I should have killed the damn traitor when I had the chance. That would have changed things," Angel replied hoarsely, turning and making his way out of the office.
Cordelia jumped to her feet quickly, nearly knocking her chair over in the process. "He's mixed up in some stuff now," she frowned. "It can't be good. I mean, he got a phone call from Lilah…."
Angel stopped in the doorway, listening. His head raised high and his back still towards her, he asked, "Lilah? Wolfram and Hart's Lilah?"
"Do we know any other evil lawyers named Lilah?"
Angel stood silent for a moment before turning back to Cordelia. He took a step towards her, and Cordelia instinctively took a step back, slightly knocking into her chair. His voice was darker than she had ever heard before as he growled, "It's not bad enough that he steals my child, but now he's working for the embodiment of evil itself?"
"Maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions, Angel," she replied, holding up her hands to calm him, to show him that she was not the enemy. "I mean, from the sound of it, they're not exactly buddy-buddy. Apparently, she's kidnapped Faith, and now he's gone off on this suicide mission to save her."
"Faith?" he asked, surprised by the mention of the volatile Slayer. He leaned away from Cordelia as he found himself wondering when Faith had been released and why he hadn't heard about it.
Cordelia relaxed, dropping her arms. "Yeah, she's out. Didn't take her long to get in trouble," she mumbled with a slight roll of her eyes. "Apparently, she and Wesley are buddy-buddy now."
"Why are you even telling me this?"
"Because.…" Cordelia paused with an agitated sigh. "Because this is Wesley going up against Wolfram and Hart. This isn't going to end pretty, Angel. He's either going to get himself killed or get both him and Faith killed…"
"Ask me if I care," Angel grumbled, turning and walking away.
"Angel…. Angel!" she called after him, but he didn't stop.
Cordelia stood alone in the office and growled angrily. She crossed her arms over her chest as she silently fumed, a deep frown on her face.
**********
Wesley walked into the warehouse, his footsteps echoing on the hard concrete floor. To his right, a light shone over a large wall of empty crates. He remained close to the wall of crates, his fingers trailing the brittle wood as he gradually made his way closer to the edge of the wall. Paying no attention to the wood pricking his fingers, he attempted to listen intently for any movements other than his own. It was hard, however. With every step or movement, the sound would echo off the high ceilings and empty walls, making every sound seem like it was coming from elsewhere in the warehouse.
Wesley stopped at the edge of the crates, trying to peer in between the bars of wood. He cursed silently as he squinted intently only to see nothing but another crate blocking his view. He frowned, realizing that more than likely there were three or more rows of empty crates piled one after the other. Nothing but Superman-like vision would be able to penetrate the wall of wood.
As Wesley braced himself for what could be on the other side, he was grabbed roughly from behind and tossed around the edge of the wall. He fell upon the floor, hard, nearly getting the wind knocked out of him. He coughed loudly as the dust particles that his body had disturbed on his impact began to settle down upon him. Wesley lifted himself slightly up off the floor, looking up with a groan.
Lilah stood off to his left, gently drumming her fingers upon a makeshift table made up of several empty crates. Wesley took note of the white cloth that had been draped over half of the table.
That Lilah, he thought, always so meticulous and neat.
To his right, stood Faith, both her wrists and her ankles handcuffed securely. As if that was not enough to hold her, two of Wolfram and Hart's beefy goons each had a strong grip on each of her arms.
"Well, well, well," Lilah smirked down at Wesley. "My little hero has arrived, swooping in to try to save the damsel in distress."
She snapped her fingers, and Wesley was grabbed by the back of his collar and yanked aggressively to his feet by a third Wolfram and Hart henchman.
"You mind telling the Incredible Hulk here to lay off a little," Wesley frowned.
Lilah shrugged and motioned with her hand for the man to back away from Wesley. "I just wanted to make sure I had your attention."
"You have it," Wesley replied, tugging his T-shirt back down from his neck. "So what do you want, Lilah?"
"I was getting tired of our whole will-he-or-won't-he game. It's quite exhausting, not to mention annoying. So I decided to up the ante a little…"
"By abducting Faith," he replied, glancing over at the girl.
She appeared unhurt—no visible bruises or cuts, but then again, Lilah seemed like the type who knew how to hurt someone without leaving a single mark.
Faith struggled slightly against her two holders, and both men ignored the look of death she gave them, their grips only tightening in response to her fiery gaze.
"Abducting is such a negative term," Lilah smiled. "I like to think of it as borrowing for negotiation purposes."
"There isn't going to be a negotiation," Wesley declared. "You're going to let her go."
"So naïve, Wesley. I thought you would have learned by now. You were never the cat in our little game. I have always been, and continue to be, the one with the power here."
"So naïve, Lilah," Wesley countered. "Whoever said I was playing your little game to begin with?"
"That's in the past," she shrugged. "I know for a fact that you're going to play the game now."
"Really."
She nodded, sitting on the edge of the table that had been covered with the cloth, crossing her legs slowly. "See, you still believe you're a good guy. You won't let this girl die because you think it's against everything you stand for…."
"Maybe because it is."
Lilah chuckled quietly under her breath. "Well, since you want to play hero, here's how it's going to happen." She reached down and picked up a large switchblade, which had been resting upon the table. She gently trailed the point of the blade up and down her palm. "You're going to sign your life over to me, and the girl lives. If you don't…" She motioned over her shoulder, and the man to Faith's left wrapped his thick hand around her throat. "Mike there will detach her head from her cute little body."
"Sign my life…to you."
"Mm-hmm," Lilah smiled. She stood, and as she did, she retrieved a contract from the table. "A simple blood oath. You sign the bottom line, and Wolfram and Hart gets sole possession of… well, your soul."
"And if I sign and don't follow your little rules?"
"Well, you die…. But not before we extract every last bit of knowledge from that gray matter of yours." She approached him, smirking, her heels echoing eerily in the warehouse. "Wesley, you have a choice here. You can either walk away, and save your own ass. Or you can try to be the good guy you have your heart so set on being. So which is it?"
Lilah stopped within a few feet of him, and Wesley watched her silently for a moment before replying, "You forgot an option."
"Which option would that be?"
In a flash, Wesley grabbed Lilah's arm, twisting her and holding her tightly to his body. Her wrist held firmly in his, he forced her to hold the switchblade to her own neck. Her free arm was pinned to her body by Wesley's tight embrace.
"The option where I kill you," he whispered gravely in her ear.
He turned to face the third henchman, who was making a move towards him.
"Tell him to back off," he growled.
"Back… back away," Lilah stammered. The henchman did as ordered, backing away towards the other two, who still had a tight hold on Faith. Lilah cleared her throat before adding, "You can't kill me, Wesley."
"You said it yourself, Lilah, I'm not the good guy. So what's keeping me from pushing this blade into your jugular and ending it all right here?"
Lilah remained silent.
"So, here's what I was thinking. This is my game now." He motioned towards the man who had roughed him up earlier. "You. I caught a glimpse of your gun. Slide it over to me." He added quickly, "Make one move I don't like, and I will not hesitate to slit her throat."
The man slowly pulled back the edge of his jacket, removing the gun from the waist of his slacks. He bent over slowly and slid the gun towards Wesley. The gun stopped within inches of Wesley's feet.
Wesley nodded in approval. "Now, unchain her feet, and place the handcuffs on one of your friends there."
The man did as told, unlocking the shackles around Faith's ankles. He used the cuffs to secure Mike's hands behind his back.
"Again!" Wesley barked.
The man unlocked the bindings on Faith's wrists, placing the shackles on the second man.
Once unbound, Faith pulled down her gag and smiled at Wesley. "Nice move, but this one is even nicer.…"
She turned and slugged the man on the far left, knocking him unconscious. She instantly jumped up, grabbing onto a low hanging pulley, and kicked the two remaining men in their throats. They both fell to the ground, gasping for air.
Faith released the pulley, dropping to the floor with ease. She brushed her hands together as she approached Wesley and Lilah. She grabbed the gun at their feet as Wesley finally released Lilah from his grip, pushing her to the ground.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Five by five, man," she smiled.
She turned her attention to Lilah, who was still sprawled out on the floor, and the playful smile turned into a menacing frown. Faith towered over her, aiming the gun at her head.
"You won't shoot me," Lilah sneered, her voice filled with professionalism as she tossed her hair confidently over her shoulder
"Apparently, you don't know me very well," Faith replied, releasing the safety on the gun.
"Apparently, you really liked that little jail cell of yours," Lilah laughed, slowly getting to her feet. "Kill me, and you'll never see daylight again. I guarantee you that."
Faith growled under her breath, but Wesley's hand reached out for hers. He placed his hand on top of hers, lowering the muzzle of the gun.
"She's not worth it," he replied gently. "Believe me."
Faith hesitated before releasing the gun into Wesley's hands.
Lilah smoothed down her skirt as she replied, "See, always rescuing the damsel in distress."
"It's not you I'm rescuing," he replied. He motioned to Faith, and they walked out of the warehouse, leaving Lilah alone with her shackled and unconscious guards.
**********
"I've never really had a use for it," Wesley admitted as he and Faith cleared out his spare bedroom.
"Tell me about it," Faith groaned, carrying a box marked "occult" out of the room and placing it against the wall in the hallway. "Ever heard of storage?"
The room had been stocked full with boxes containing everything from journals to weapons, but now, with an hour of cleaning behind them, the room was starting to resemble somewhere livable. Faith stood in the doorway, pleased to finally see at least three-fourths of what was going to be her room.
After their encounter with Lilah, Wesley had made a passing comment about his extra bedroom. When she hadn't replied, he had added quietly, "It's yours, if you want." Faith had just smiled, accepting with a nod. It was just nice to have a place to call home again. A place with someone she could trust….
"Faith?" Wesley asked, approaching her, a rag draped over his shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she grinned, snapping out of her thoughts. "I was just thinking.…"
"May I ask what about?"
Faith hesitated before replying, "About how action-packed these few days have been."
Wesley chuckled. "Tell me about it." He turned, making his way back to a corner of the room in an attempt to clear out the last of the boxes.
"So, how did it go with Cordelia?" she asked, continuing to linger in the doorway.
He glanced at her over his shoulder, a slight frown on his face. "It… went."
"Not good, huh?"
"You could say that," he mumbled.
"You know, Wesley," Faith sighed, "I'm all about the whole lone-wolf deal. That's me, but… But it's not you. You've always had this little dysfunctional family to turn to, and it worked for you. It worked for everybody."
Wesley turned to her as she continued. "I'm not saying you all should just be all lovey-dovey and sing kumbayah with each other, but don't you think you all should just sit down and deal with each other? I'm kinda alien to the whole family thing, but isn't that what they do? Just kinda accept each other, even the parts that piss each other off?"
"In some families, Faith," he replied, solemnly, his mind trailing to his final words with Cordelia. "Not all of them."
Faith simply nodded in response.
Tossing his rag onto a box in the middle of the floor, Wesley approached her, asking, "You thirsty?"
"Sure, I guess."
Wesley nodded and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator door, grabbing two bottles of cola. Making his way back towards the bedroom, he glanced at the phone lying on the couch where he had left it. He picked up the phone with his free hand, tapping his thumb gently against the buttons.
He hesitated a moment before dialing.
It rang three times before the familiar voice spoke into his ear. "Angel Investigations. This is Cordelia, how can we help you?"
Wesley waited a moment.
"Hello?"
Then, he hung up, laying the phone back upon the couch with a sigh.
Some families, he thought as he made his way back down the hallway, but not mine.
