Escape
Chapter Seven: Homecoming

Fred continued to stare, brown eyes huge as Wesley struggled free from Lilah's grip. He stared at Lilah, something familiar stirring in his stomach. Something like rage, frustration and pure, unadulterated lust. His gaze was suddenly caught by Fred, the cookies rattling on the plate as she shook and stared at them. The heat of anger and want melted suddenly, to be replaced by the feeling of a punch to his stomach.

"Fred…" he started helplessly before glancing back at Lilah Morgan. "Get out. Get out, now."

She seemed unaffected by his tone, almost as though she had expected it. She stood up slowly, smoothing her skirt slowly and seductively.

"See ya, Wes," she called over her shoulder as she left. She paused in the doorway and glanced down her nose at Fred. "Eat all your vegetables," she told her in a low voice. "Pray real hard. Might help with those hips of yours."

Then, with a dry chuckle, Lilah swept past Fred and out into the corridor.

"Fred -" Wesley started, standing up and walking around the desk.

"No, it's ok. I mean, she's very attractive. Dead, but y'know, pretty. Uh, cookie?"

"Fred, I didn't -" he reached to touch her shoulder.

"It's none of my business, Wesley," she said, trying to smile before bowing her head over the cookies.

"Yes, it is! Will you please listen to me? She kissed me -"

"You kissed her back."

"When someone has nails like claws embedded in your head, you've got very little room for manoeuvre. Really, I didn't want to kiss her. And I really didn't want you to see it."

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters, Fred."

She looked up from rearranging the cookies on the plate and met his eyes with a frown.

"Why?"

"Well, I -"

"Wesley!"

Wesley jumped, the hand that hovered uncertainly between himself and Fred snapping back to his side as Angel barrelled into the room.

"Angel?" Fred asked. "What's wrong?"

"Have you looked at my contract?" he demanded.

"Uh, no, we haven't had the ch -"

"Good," Angel crossed the room in three easy strides, stepping right between them without even noticing the tension in the room. He passed the plate absent mindedly to Fred before sifting through the papers on the desks.

Fred averted her eyes when Angel paused over the various caricatures of himself, raising his eyes briefly before grabbing the contract from beneath the mess. He held it to his chest and attempted a casual stance.

"You'll be able to find a get-out clause using just yours and the others, right?" he asked Wesley.

"I think so, if Fred will help me. She's proven invaluable today."

When Fred only blinked at Wesley, Angel glanced at her.

"I'll help," she mumbled, relenting under Angel's gaze.

"So, why the sudden change of heart?" Wes asked Angel.

"Nothing. It's just… The longest of all of them and there's nothing in there that isn't in the others. And, well, there's some… personal stuff too."

"You should have said when I asked you," Wes replied.

Angel was surprised by how easily Wes swallowed that garbled, ridiculous excuse. Then he followed where Wes was looking and saw Fred munching a cookie, carefully avoiding Wes's stare.

In a brave, but sorry attempt to lighten the atmosphere, Angel picked up the notepad and frowned at it. The doodle in the middle depicted a square-ish person with a goofy grin, huge fangs and heart shaped eyes. Hands were fisted at his heart, tiny wings protruding from his back as the caricature stared at a twig like feminine figure with wreaths of gently curling hair and a huge stake in one hand.

"Buffy?" he asked, looking at Fred who looked suitably embarrassed. He turned a little to look at Wesley, voice rising slightly in high pitched accusation. "Me?"

Wes blushed slightly and coughed.

"Well, personally, I think it's a step up from a five second re-enactment ending in Bite me," he commented.

Angel shrugged, put the notepad down and started to leave the room; he could feel the tension between Fred and Wes and shook his head as he turned down the corridor toward the elevator.

It wasn't until he reached the underground car park that he ran into anyone.

Buffy was leaning against his car, arms folded. He hugged the contract slightly tighter to his chest and hesitated briefly before carrying on toward her and stopping.

She looked up, offering him a grim smile.

"I think we need to talk."

They sat in silence, the quiet weighing heavy in the dull light of the car park. Buffy hadn't spoken for a full minute, only stared out of the window. Angel was starting to wonder if she would ever blink.

She was barely able to comprehend the news. She had known Darla was back, Angel had told her when they spoke all night after her resurrection. But he never told her he slept with Darla, or that sleeping with her was what put him back on his path. She was also struggling to comprehend the fact that two vampires had a child and Darla had given her life for her child's. Angel's rigid defence of the woman he had once staked also stunned her. She thought Angel hated Darla, but when Buffy asked why Darla would kill herself for her child, Angel had leapt to her defence.

Buffy tried to remember if she had seen anything between Wesley and Angel that would have given away the truth of what happened. But she hadn't.

And, though she had seen the sorrow in the eyes of Angel's friends because of Cordy's death, she was almost positive they had no idea what had really happened.

"So," she said after a moment. "What do they think happened? How do you think you got Wolfram and Hart?"

"Fred mentioned something about Jasmine," Angel replied. "So I know they remember that. As far as I know, they think Cordy's coma came about because she was the one to stop her. They think we got Wolfram and Hart because we ended world peace. Which is true, they just don't know the whole story of how it really ended. Or started."

"And what about Connor? Don't they remember anything about him?"

"No," Angel said quickly. "And you can't say anything. Please, Buffy. You can't. Everything is working out now, I can't risk them finding out."

"You took away their memories, Angel!" Buffy cried. "Things they deserve to remember. What about Wesley? You just wiped all that stuff away. And what about this Lilah woman you say was so important to him? The woman you killed? Does he even remember her?"

"No," Angel lowered his head. "He doesn't. As far as he remembers, he never left the team. If there had been another way… I would have taken it. But there wasn't. C'mon, Buffy, you're the woman that gave up your life for your sister."

"Yeah, because it was my life to give up! But what gives you the right to give up what doesn't belong to you?"

"I wanted to save my son!" Angel answered harshly. "Don't you think if I could have done more, I would have? Don't you think I wanted him with me? All I've got now is rare glances through a window. And I don't even have those for very long because he's going to college now. But the only way I can deal with that is by knowing that he's happy. He's going to college; he's got a girlfriend, a sister. He's never seen a monster in his life. He is still my son, Buffy. He'll always be my son. And if I had to sacrifice a few bad memories to make sure his life was made better, I don't care."

"Hey," Buffy touched his arm, suddenly aware of the fact Angel was starting to fall apart. "It's ok. I don't agree with what you did, but I understand why you did it."

"You do?"

"Yeah," she nodded, attempting a smile. "But I don't agree. I think what you did was wrong. But I get why you needed to do it."

There was a silence until Angel glanced down at Buffy's hand still clenched around his arm. She followed his gaze and he heard her pull in a deep, rattling breath before lifting her head to look at him. Slowly, with the leather seats creaking as she did so, she leaned forward and kissed him.

"Buffy," Angel mumbled against her lips.

"Sssh," she hushed, pulling away only for a second. "Please."

She moved in closer, pulling him into a more fierce kiss. She was aware of what happened last time, of him pulling away and saying no. She knew she was risking more pain and more awkwardness, but with him pressed so close, she couldn't give a damn.

When he pulled away, Buffy saw in his eyes the sudden uneasiness and he started to pull away when Buffy snatched hold of his hand and fixed him with a determined look.

"I may not be cookies yet," she said. "But cookie dough needs an oven," Angel opened his mouth to reply when he frowned. "Ok. So that was a bad way of putting it," Buffy relented. "But the truth is I love you and I've always loved you. You know that."

"Yeah," he nodded. "And I feel the same way. And I always kinda hoped… One day in the future… You'd want to be with me."

"But?" Buffy asked, fingers tightening in his as she nibbled her lip.

"But are you sure? I left you so you'd have a normal life -"

"And I've got one," she cut in quickly. "Now there's thousands of Slayers out there. I'm not the one girl in all the world anymore. That's as normal as I'm ever gonna get."

"I know, but you're not baked yet."

"I want you, Angel."

"And I want you. But maybe we shouldn't dive in. Maybe we should take things slowly."

"I can do slow," she replied with a smile, leaning in again to kiss him.

Wesley usually enjoyed silence. He liked to lean back and just listen to the soothing nothingness, the gentle hush of paper as he turned the page of a book, or the scratch of a pen. He liked to watch the steam spiral from his cup and smell the aroma of coffee.

But right now, silence was exactly what Wesley didn't want. Fred was studiously avoiding his eyes. She was sitting on the opposite side of the desk, highlighting sections of Lorne's contract before turning to the thick law books piled on her right side.

"Fred?"

"Found something?" she asked quickly, not looking up.

"No. I just thought we should talk."

"About what?" she was obviously trying her best to sound flippant, even smiling as though she had no idea.

"About earlier," he stated and he tried to kept his voice low and careful, but frustration grated on him and he was finding it hard to keep his voice level.

"There's nothing to say," this time her tone was crisper and he frowned at her.

"You're not making -"

"Heads up, my little goodie-goodies, there's been a development."

Wes looked beyond Fred to Lilah and he saw the annoyance and anger on Fred's face before she turned to face her. Lilah grinned, leaning through the door with one hand on the doorframe.

"What do you want?" Fred asked.

"Now, now, that's not very friendly," Lilah smiled, walking into the room. "You want to hear my news or not?"

"No," Fred snapped, turning to look at Wes for support.

He hesitated, torn between backing Fred and hearing what was so important.

"What's this development?" he asked finally and Fred gaped at him for a moment before her expression hardened into something he didn't recognise.

"You know about the White Room?" Lilah asked him.

"I've heard of it," Wesley replied.

"Well, you're about to see it first hand," Lilah straightened up, cocking a finger at him. "I'll show you the way."

Wes started to stand when Fred leapt to her feet, staring in disbelief at him.

"You're not going with her?" she gasped.

"We need to see what's happening, Fred."

"For all you know, this could be a trick. It could get you killed," her lip curled in disgust. "But, hey, it could get you laid."

"Not if you're with me," he replied, tone friendly, but the expression on his face displayed his irritation.

"You coming?" Lilah asked in a bored tone. Wes wouldn't have been surprised if she had yawned.

Fixing Wes with a quick, searching look, Fred nodded and turned to follow Lilah out of the office. Wes joined them at the elevator and they stepped inside. Lilah pressed various buttons, while Fred and Wes waited silently.

"Now I'm dead, I get the codes," Lilah sighed. "Such a waste."

Wes saw Fred roll her eyes and her lips curled downward. Then there was the white light and Fred caught hold of Wesley's arm in her surprise, dropping it quickly when she realised what she had done.

Lilah crossed her arms, sauntered forward, fingers tapping on her arms.

"Well?" Wes prompted after a moment.

"Give him time," Lilah replied without turning around.

"Him?" Fred asked in a whisper, Wes only shrugged in reply.

"Here we go," Lilah said, stepping back to stand with Fred and Wesley.

There was a couple of seconds, then in a flash of white light, strangely clear in an all white room; a naked figure hit the ground. It lay flat on its back, spread-eagled, not moving.

Exchanging glances, Wes and Fred rushed forward, staring down at the pale man on the floor.

"Is he dead?" Fred asked.

"Oh, yes," Wes nodded. "It's the defining characteristic of a vampire."

"Vampire?" Fred repeated. "How do you know?"

"That's -"

Wes was cut off by a moan and the twitching of the man's limbs as his eyes opened and he blinked in an attempt to focus on the two of them.

"Bloody hell," the man groaned.

"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him personally," Wes said. "But unless I'm very much mistaken, this is William the Bloody, Fred. Also known as Spike."