Title: Tea and Madeline
Chapter Title: Frailty
Author: Zoe Han
Disclaimer: Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer are both the property of Joss Whedon and Co.
Spoilers: Rain of Fire (Angel) / Never Leave ME (BtVS)
Notes: AU where ConCord exists only in the platonic sense
Summary: Wesley deals with a distraught Fred and partially reveals why Giles is in L.A, Lorne brings in the L.A. demon perspective concerning The Beast


"It's kind of nice to hear someone happy," Fred commented softly from her computer screen after Cordelia left to show Giles to a vacant room upstairs with Connor trailing behind them.

Wesley glanced at the upper level where the trio had vanished into one of the corridors then answererd thoughtfully, "Yes, yes it is."

Happy. It was sucha simple word, a simple emotion, and it brought a sorrowful smile to his lips. Nice to hear someone happy, Wesley was just sorry it wasn't Fred.

She had her back to him, still diligently at work, or at least pretending to be. Their conversations had been strictly research-related, so he was unsure whether her comment had been an invitation to talk or a simple observation.

However, he was answered with the abrupt silence of clacking keys.

"He won't even speak to me," her voice broke between a nervous laugh and a sob, hanging her shoulders.

There was no need for her to explain who "he" was. No, he thought to himself disappointingly, of course she wouldn't have ended things with Gunn so quickly.

The emotional outpour made Wesley uneasy, but in a way, he was relieved to see her cry. It meant that despite what she had gone through, she hadn't completely resolved herself to bitterness. She wasn't like him,,, and for that, he was grateful.

"Fred," his hand hesitated just over her shoulder, wanting desperately to comfort her in a hug. He sighed to himself, and instead, knelt beside her chair, swivelling it until they were face to face. Wesley had already half-formed a small cliched "it'll all work out" speech inn his mind, but the words vanished at the sigh of her tearful face. What was he supposed to say? The supportive friend - it was the rold he had once been accustomed to playing, but that was long ago, another lifetime ago it seemed.

To hell with roles, masks, parts...

Wesley tenderly lifted Fred's chin and brushed back her hair. His fingers caught her tears and gently wiped them away. It was a gesture that went blatantly outside the threshold of a concerned friend. Fred's apprehensive expression told him she understood, but no protestation arose.

He smoothed her cheek with his hand, noticing how fair and dlicate her skin was. Her eyes still glistening with tears, she looked almost ethereal as the light played with the soft waves of her hair. Innocence - it was one of the things he had loved about her. Yet, it was virtue the past year was forcing her to outgrow. Wesley wanted nothing more than to guard her from the rest of the world, to go on loving her for all the reason that made her different from... Lilah.

He leaned in slowly, bordering on euphoria from being so close to her. Fred hesitated for a second before closing her eyes. Wesley felt the warmth of her breath on his lips, causing his heart to race.

"Well, there's certainly some mean and nasties out tonight," came Lorne's voice.

Fred quickly pulled away from Wesley and stood from her chair, her face flushing.

Fortunately, Lorne had been too preoccupied with wiping iridescent slime from his clothing to have noticed the attempted kiss that had occurred between them. Although disappointed, Wesley remained composed, his eyes lingering on Fred, a look intense enough to cause her to turn away again.

"Times like these bring even the most reclusive demons above ground to see what's going on. Y'know, the kind that thrive for ages underground where there's no deodorant, bikini waxes, Clearasil, and much less, plastic surgeons. We're talking "scuttlebutt-ugly," Lorne shuddered at the memory, "I need a drink."

He headed for the small collection of mixers and spirits on the counter, his personal makeshift oasis. Normally he was satisfied with a cocktail, but this time, his hands went immediately to the decanter of Scotch and a tumbler.

Fred drew up next to him and scrutinized the slime on the front of Lorne's shirt, "I didn't know they came in that color."

"Yeah, and for you autumns out there," Lorne modeled his back, "Burnt umber for that classy sophisticated look that says 'I stood a little too close to a shedding Azbath demon.'"

He knocked back his drink then shook his head, "I mean, we're talking more vivid colors than a Jean-Pierre Jeunet film."

"We get the point," Wesley said abruptly, "What did you find out?"

Lorne narrowed his eyes at him before answering, "Some of them have tried to stop The Beast as well, mostly your Conan-type mercenary demons."

"Mercenary? Hired by who?" Wesley asked.

"Our cuddly friends at Wolfram and Hart."

He should have figured Lilah would try and pull an army together using the company's connection and funds.

"Any damage done at all?"

"Oh, plenty," Lorne nodded, "Just that it was all done by that "Legend" reject. In the meantime, a large majority of the resident demons have decided to try and get back to their respective dimensions. Considering a lot of them, like me, came from a Hell dimension, not a good sign of what's to come. If The Beast ends up putting the 'ouch' in 'slouching towards Bethlehem,' Pylea will end up looking like a cruise in the Bahamas."

"Maybe we should pack," Fred said hopefully.

"See? My 'hiding under the bed' idea starting to look good. Not much luck here I take it?" Lorne swirled the Scotch in his glass.

"We haven't come up with anything new," said Wesley, "We'll have to go with the initial plan, there doesn't seem to be any other choice. We haven't spoken to Cordelia about it yet; I'm just hoping she won't have a vision before we're ready to tell her."

"As dangerous as it is, we've got to let her know it's our best chance," Fred whispered.

"It's a little more difficult than that. I don't want to tell her she'll have to go through it all over again. It's a delicate situation. She and Giles have seen what he's actually capable of," Wesley explained, "Which is also why I asked Giles to come, to help assess the situation and reinforce both spells."

"Speaking of, is the cavalry here yet?" asked Lorne.

"He's upstairs with Cordelia and Connor."

"He?" Lorne raised an eyebrow, "You mean 'they,' right? Giles and the other Watchers."

"There are no other Watchers anymore. The Councill was destroyed; Giles is the only one left."

"I see."

Lorne downed the rest of his Scotch, poured himself another, and carried it with him up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" asked Fred.

Lorne called over his shoulder, "I'll be packing my bags."