TITLE : Present Imperfect
AUTHOR : Eloise
RATING : PG13
DISCLAIMER : Joss and ME own Wes, and all things Angel. I'm only playing with them. I promise not to hurt them. (Well, maybe just a little.)
NOTES : Chap 5 of 11. This chapter contains lines of dialogue from the final scene of 'Couplet'. You know, the one where Wes translates the prophecy and his world falls apart… Also a couple of lines from 'Loyalty'. Title and quote are from 'The Iliad of Homer' Book ix by Alexander Pope.
Chapter 5 : No Cold Medium
"A generous friendship no cold medium knows,
Burns with one love, with one resentment glows."
The office was dark, smelling of old books, cedar wood, and very faintly of bergamot. He eyed the little tea set that Wes had favoured; briefly imagined smashing it piece by piece, grinding it to powder under his heel. He didn't, though. That would only cause more concern, more worried whispered conversations when they thought he was not listening. He could hear them now in the lobby, discussing his actions; wondering whether to call Cordelia and ruin her holiday with the news that Connor was gone, and her two best friends were now mortal enemies. He imagined she would not be best pleased.
He realized now, too late, that she had been part of the problem. He had been so caught up in his feelings for Cordy; his jealousy of the Groosalugg, that he hadn't noticed Wesley falling apart. He stretched his fingers out over the worn desktop, and closed his eyes.
'Working late?'
Wesley looked deep in thought, and jumped a little when he appeared at the office door.
'Yes.' He hitched a breath 'You startled me.'
He snuggled Connor close 'Ah, we didn't mean to.' He addressed Wesley, but his eyes never left his son's tiny form.
'I thought I was alone.' He didn't notice then how Wes had carefully folded his hands over the books he was working on. Saw nothing but his perfect child.
'So did I.' But not any more he had thought, kissing his baby's soft cheek.
That was how he had missed it. He had seen how rough, how tired Wes had looked, had even commented on it. But he had been so wrapped up in Connor that he had believed the pathetic excuses that Wes had offered. Ironically, he had been so absorbed in his baby that he had failed to heed the warning signs; had not wanted to acknowledge that anything was wrong. And now Connor was gone.
The door of the office opened, and Fred peered round it apologetically.
'Angel, there's some stuff you should see. I managed to access Wesley's email account…'
'No! I don't want to know. Get out.' His voice was little more than a growl.
Amazingly, the little Texan stood her ground. Tipped her chin up defiantly.
'You listen, Angel. You're hurting, and we understand that. Connor's gone…' She faltered then, blinked furiously behind her glasses. 'But if you want to stand any chance of finding him, you need to stop sitting around brooding about revenge and read these damn emails!'
He was so surprised at her audacity that he stood up and took a step towards her. Her eyes betrayed her fear, but she held her ground, lifted her chin a fraction more.
'It's up to you.'
He swept past her.
'Fine. Show me.'
He sat down at the laptop she had set up in the outer office area, ignoring the startled looks from Gunn and Lorne. Fred leant over his shoulder; her fingers moving across the keyboard with astonishing alacrity. Suddenly the screen changed, and a list of email addresses appeared in the right hand corner of the monitor. Fred scrolled down and finally clicked on one, dated a couple of days before Wes had taken Connor.
From: RGiles
To: WWP
Re 'phone call of 25th
Bad news, I'm afraid, Wesley. I've gone through the copy of the prophecy you sent quite thoroughly. Your translation was, unfortunately, excellent. I can see no other alternative than the course of action we talked over on the 'phone.
I've contacted our friends in Devon, and they're more than willing to offer you and the child sanctuary, while we work out whether you've managed to thwart the prophecy. I think, though, Wesley, that you will have to prepare yourself for the possibility that you may never see Angel again.
I've sounded out the council, unofficially, you understand, about the prospect of paid consultancy work. It seemed they really are quite desperate for good researchers. Perhaps if they didn't keep firing them… However, I digress. The Coven have instructed me to advise you to place a protection spell around Connor when you move him. Seems like a sensible course of action, I suppose. They've set one up for you that includes a locator clause. You'll need to attach it to a talisman and make sure the child is wearing it. So something small, perhaps a locket or a ring.
I don't need to remind you, Wesley, how dangerous this will be. Please take every precaution not to allow Angel to discover what you are planning. I agree that the baby can't remain in his care, but he certainly won't see it that way. And you are doing the right thing. For Angel, as well as his son. To have an innocent's blood on your hands is a terrible thing. For it to be your own child… Angel would never recover.
I know I'm not telling you anything you don't know already, but these things need to be said. Take care of yourself, and I'll see you in a few days.
Giles.
He did not move. For minutes after he had finished reading, he was immobile, trying to absorb fully the contents of the email. Wes had truly believed he was going to kill his baby. How could he think that he would ever harm him? He would never, never, and then suddenly it hit him. Nuzzling Connor; drinking in the sweet scent of him, drunk with happiness. He smelled like…..food.
Wesley's face, staring up at him, eyes wild, whispering something under his breath.
'Fire, earthquake, blood…'
'At least I would have something to snack on'
He closed his eyes slowly, and the image of his friend formed before him. Wesley had been barely able to meet his eyes as he had kissed his son goodbye. He had betrayed him; given the child to his mortal enemy, the man who had the best reason in the world to hate.
Only now that didn't seem to be true. According to Giles, Wes had planned to take Connor himself, seeking sanctuary in England. And this spell, if it had worked – he jabbed frantically at the mouse, trying to open the document that Giles had attached to his message.
'Fred, dammit! Open this for me!' He stood up, and allowed her to slide into his seat. Her long fingers flickered over the keyboard and suddenly it was there. The other two men were beside him now; leaning in to see what was on the screen. A few moments later, Fred stood up and went to the printer. She retrieved the sheet and handed it to him silently.
'What – what is it?' Lorne finally spoke, his voice breathless.
'A spell. A sanctuary spell for Connor. To protect him…' his own voice cracked slightly ' from me.'
'Let me see that, sugar,' Lorne scanned the sheet quickly, then nodded. 'Your standard protection spell – not permanent, though. And this part here…' he indicated several lines at the bottom of the page ' has been added on. It's not part of the protection spell'
Angel snatched the sheet back.
'The locator clause…'
Fred was already ahead of him ' This means Connor's safe, right?' She looked at the others for confirmation. 'Right? And the locator thingy, couldn't we use that to find him?'
Lorne leaned in again to read over his shoulder, then addressed Fred.
'Hate to spoil your party, sweetie, but protection spell. Operative word - protection. And what was Wesley trying to protect against? Poppa Bear here going psycho and using Connor as a between-meals snack.'
The growl was out of him before he could stop it.
'I'm sorry, Angel-face, but there it is. Wesley is nothing if not thorough. There is no way he would have set up the spell so that you could access it.'
Something Lorne had said previously stuck in his mind. 'It's not permanent… it won't last! Lorne, we don' t have much time. You've got to find someone who can decode this spell. I can try Giles.'
Fred shifted slightly behind him. 'We could ask…'
'No!' he snarled, almost morphing into full game face. 'Don't say it, Fred. He doesn't exist any more.'
She backed down this time, her previous bravado gone. Gunn moved to stand between them.
'Okay, man, we get it. No Wesley.'
He nodded swiftly, and strode past them into the office, closing the door firmly behind him.
