A/N: Thanks again for the feedback, guys!!!!

**********

Listening to her heart pounding in her ears, Faith darted up the staircase.

"I hate it when they make me chase 'em," she growled as she stopped at the top of the stairs.

She held her breath and listened to the sound of the abandoned apartment complex. A smirk formed at the corners of her lips as she heard a noise come from an apartment at the end of the hallway.

Faith cautiously made her way down the hallway, stopping at the open door of the darkened apartment. She sighed loudly and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You know, I thought you guys were supposed to be evil," Faith scoffed. "What kind of vamp runs and hides like a little girl instead of fighting?"

She stepped into the apartment, stake drawn.

The closet door behind her swung open violently. The vampire came at her fast, but Faith was ready for him. She turned and grabbed the vampire by the front of his shirt. She tossed him across the living room with a grunt, and he collided violently with the wall.

"You know, you're just making this harder on yourself," Faith smirked as the vampire slowly got to his feet. "Because me? I could go all night."

The vampire lunged at her, hitting her across the face with a right hook. Only slightly stunned, Faith hit him back. Once. Twice. Three punches to the face. As the vampire stumbled, she kicked him hard to the chest, plowing him into the wall again.

"Nice knowing ya, pal." Faith pulled her stake and plunged it deep into the vampire's chest before he could react.

The vampire dissolved into a pile of dust at her feet, and Faith smiled triumphantly. Her smile began to fade as she listened to the apartment. She clinched her hand tighter around the stake, focusing.

Instantly, she spun around, her stake drawn.

Wesley only had enough time to raise his hand up to protect himself. He looked down at his chest where his hand was vainly attempting to protect his beating heart. The stake had stopped right at the tender flesh of the back of his hand, digging in between the bones.

"Nice to see your Slayer reflexes didn't atrophy," he grimaced as the pain spread to the tips of his fingers.

Faith stared at him for a moment before pulling away the stake. "Do you have a damn death wish?" she spat. "I could have fucking killed you!"

Faith stepped away from him, her heart racing. Too similar. The situation. He came out of nowhere. She had just followed her instinct. She was in battle-mode. She couldn't just drop out of battle-mode with a snap of her fingers. But Buffy had known. She had seen what Faith could not. But by then, it had been too late….

Faith ran a shaky hand through her hair as she fought to catch her breath.

Wesley watched her, the concern evident on his face. "Faith, are you okay?"

"Why the hell are you following me, Wesley?" she asked between breaths.

Wesley massaged his sore hand with a frown. "I need you to keep a low profile for a while."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not really sure," he said as he straightened his tie, "but just trust me on this. Keep a low profile."

"Trust you?" Faith scoffed. "How dumb do you think I am?"

"Faith, I…."

Faith tugged at her tanktop with a smirk. She walked past him but stopped just behind him. She lingered over his shoulder, speaking softly into his ear. "They say you should never judge a book by its cover." She gently stroked her fingers down the sleeve of Wesley's crisp white shirt. "But I see your cover, and I sure as hell don't trust it."

"Faith, you don't understand," Wesley began.

When he turned to face her, Faith was already gone.

*********

Fred stared at her reflection in the mirror as she slowly brushed her hair.

Ever since she had visited him that morning, he had been the only thing on her mind. She couldn't help but think about Wesley, about what he had done. For a moment, she wondered if she had been too harsh, but that moment was fleeting.

He deserved more than harsh for what he was doing to them. How could he purposefully work for the enemy? A enemy that had tried to kill them all on one occasion or another.

She feared what kind of information he was sharing with his new colleagues. What was he telling them about the hotel-- about its layout and secret entrances? What was he telling them about each of his former friends-- about their weaknesses and strengths? What was he telling them about Angel and about Connor, for that matter?

"Fred, babe?"

Fred looked up at the sound of Gunn's voice. He leaned in the doorway to her room, watching her. He gave her a concerned glance as he stepped into the room and closed the door.

"You okay?"

"Mm-hmm," she said, turning her gaze back to the mirror. "Fine and dandy."

She continued to softly brush her hair, alternating between the right and left side. Gunn stepped behind her and placed his warm hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently. He watched her silently for a moment before smiling slowly.

"Babe, you keep it up, and we're gonna be twins," he teased gently.

Fred stopped mid-stroke and smiled sheepishly. She placed the brush on the dresser with a sigh.

"What's on your mind?" he asked. "And don't tell me there's nothing on your mind because you have that look."

"What look?" she smiled.

"The I'm-on-the-verge-of-bursting-if-I-hold-this-in-any-longer look."

Fred laid her hands upon Gunn's as she looked up at him. "Remember my note from earlier?"

"Yeah, when you went to the store."

Fred dropped her gaze to her lap as she admitted quietly, "I didn't go to the store. I went to see Wesley."

Fred felt Gunn's hands tense up on her shoulders. "You did what?"

Fred slipped out from under his hands and walked towards her bed. "I had to," she explained as she approached the nightstand.

"Fred, why the hell did you go see him? I've told you…."

"I know. He wants nothing to do with us. We want nothing to do with him," she frowned. "I get that, but I saw something this morning."

Fred retrieved the slightly crumpled article from the drawer of the nightstand. She handed it to Gunn as she continued, "He's working for them now."

Gunn skimmed the article, feeling the anger rise up in his chest. "That son of a bitch," he growled. "What the hell…?!"

Fred stepped closer to him, placing a finger on his lips to shush him. "Angel will hear you."

"Angel needs to hear me. He needs to hear this."

Fred shook her head. "No, not yet. He's still recovering from being underwater for three months. We can't just lay this on him. Not yet."

"But, Fred, if Wes is working for Wolfram and Hart, Angel has to know. This isn't something we can just hide…."

"I know, but… I just don't want to upset him. And hearing that a man with an inside look into Angel Investigations is now working for Wolfram and Hart will probably upset him."

Gunn glanced down at the article in his hands. "What did he have to say for himself?" he grumbled.

Fred sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "Not much," she shrugged.

"Not much?" Gunn scoffed, looking up at her. "He's working for the enemy, and he has nothing to say?"

"I don't know. He was just… not Wesley."

"He hasn't been Wesley for a while, Fred."

"He was…. He didn't care." Fred shrugged her shoulders again. "He just didn't care."

"We have to tell Angel, Fred."

"I know," she sighed.

"And we have to tell him soon."

"I know," she frowned. "But not tonight."

"Fred," Gunn sighed, frustrated. "He needs to know right now."

"No, Gunn, please not tonight," Fred replied, taking his free hand in hers. "I just… I just don't want to think about it anymore tonight. And if we tell Angel, I'll have to tell him everything that Wes didn't say, and then he'll get all angry and blood-hungry and then we'll have a vengeful vampire on our hands and it's late and I just want to sleep and forget it even happened for right now…."

Gunn shushed her gently, pulling her into his arms. He tenderly smoothed down her hair as he replied, "Okay, babe, we won't tell him tonight."

"Thank you," she mumbled into his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him tight.

**********

Wesley closed his apartment door and locked it securely behind himself. He slowly strolled into his kitchen, hitting the light switch as he passed, and opened his freezer door. Pulling a piece of ice from the ice tray, Wesley placed it against his bruised hand. He inhaled quickly between his teeth as the ice made contact with his hot flesh.

He pulled the ice away and looked at the large black and blue mass that seemed to be spreading across the back of his hand. He made a fist a couple of times, watching his bones and veins move under his flesh. He had been more than lucky tonight.

Thank God for Slayer reflexes, he thought solemnly.

He tossed the ice into the sink with a sigh. With his uninjured left hand, he loosened his tie and tossed it upon the kitchen table. He looked down at his hand again and frowned.

He didn't know what he was expecting Faith to say to him tonight. Had he honestly expected her to trust him when she had never had a reason to trust him before? And to his own surprise, her words had wounded him a lot more than he ever thought they would….

He started towards his bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he proceeded down the hallway. He stepped into his room, hitting the light switch as he crossed the threshold.

In that moment, Wesley had to swallow down his primal urge to scream.

Faith sat on the corner of his bed, twirling her stake. She looked up at him and smirked. She pointed her stake towards the open window as she said, "You know, you should really lock your window. Any psychopath can crawl up the fire escape and get in here."

Composing himself, Wesley frowned at her. "You would be an expert in that field, wouldn't you?" He sighed and pulled off his shirt, leaving on his undershirt, and tossed it into a corner of the room. "What do you want, Faith?"

"Why do you have the attitude?" she scoffed. "I'm the one being stalked here, pal."

Wesley crossed his arms and stood tall in the doorway. "I'm not stalking you."

Faith tilted her head slightly and looked him over, studying him. "Interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"How it's all making sense now," she replied as she stood. "I've been trying to figure you out since the diner. I'll admit that I was a little slow at first, but I get it now. The new clothes. The new attitude. This whole raw sexiness you're trying your damndest to put off. I get it."

"There's nothing to get, Faith," Wesley frowned.

"Oh, but I think there is," she said as she gently poked him in the chest with the stake. She searched his eyes for a moment before adding, "You've switched teams."

"I am far from switching teams, Faith."

"Really?" she asked. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and removed the business card. She held it up to his face. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't these the bad guys?"

Wesley looked at the business card but did not respond.

"And isn't that your name at the top in the fancy look-at-me-I'm-evil font?"

He cleared his throat. "I am working for Wolfram and Hart, but it's not for the purposes you believe."

"Really? Because what I believe is that the after-hours perks weren't enough for ya," she replied, slipping his card back into her pocket. She smirked as she read the stunned look on Wesley's face. "The plot thickens, huh?"

"Faith…."

"The other night when I stopped by, there was a woman here. I heard her. I thought I recognized the voice, but it wasn't until you left that little souvenir at the diner, that the pieces came together for me. Dear sweet and innocent Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," Faith said quietly as she trailed a finger down Wesley's chest. "Not only is he working for the bad guy, but he's fucking her too."

"I can guarantee you that the situation isn't what you think it is, Faith."

"So what is this situation?"

Wesley sighed. "I don't know… at the moment. I just need you to trust me for once when I tell you that it would be in your best interests to keep a low profile for a while."

"And why should I trust you?"

"Because you have no choice," he frowned, finally dropping his arms.

Faith returned the frown and opened her mouth to speak, but a knock at Wesley's apartment door interrupted her. The frown changed to a smile as she whispered, "Looks like your girlfriend is making her little midnight visit."

Wesley looked down the hallway as the knocking started again. When he turned back to Faith, she had already flopped back onto his bed, grinning.

"Maybe I should stick around," she said as she sat up on her elbows. "Check out the festivities for myself, huh?"

"Faith…." he began as the knocking continued.

"You better go answer that. You'd hate to keep her waiting," she smirked.

With a groan, Wesley started out of the bedroom.

When he opened the apartment door, Lilah greeted him with a smirk that was eerily reminiscent of the one Faith had just given him.

"Took you long enough," she said, stepping into his apartment.

Wesley did not respond. He closed the door, locking it again. He glanced down the hallway towards his bedroom before turning his gaze to Lilah.

"You're later than normal."

She shrugged as she tossed her overcoat onto the back of the couch. "Evil knows no time limits."

Wesley simply nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. Lilah approached him, smiling playfully. "So…." She stopped as she caught a glimpse of his bruised hand. "What happened to your hand?"

"Like you care," he replied.

"You're right," she replied with a evil smile. "I don't."

She started towards the bedroom, and Wesley braced himself for whatever was about to happen. When Lilah disappeared into the bedroom, Wesley felt himself tense up.

"Wes, I'm not going to wait on you all damn night," Lilah called from within the bedroom.

Wesley quickly made his way down the hall. When he reached the doorway, Lilah stood in the center of the room, her hands gracefully poised on her hips.

Wesley glanced towards the open window, holding in a sigh of relief.