Chapter III: The brave and the bold.
There's not much to do in these cold autumn nights. Saving lives and fighting the 'good fight' aren't as savory as they used to be. He walks with a slight limp carrying the weapons of the hunt. He hurt his leg while fighting a nest full of vampires in the suburbs. The house's previous owner had made the incredible mistake of inviting his daughters "drama" classmate inside one particular evening for finals study session. That was five months ago.
Little did Mr. Duvall know then that his daughter had met him at a rave in the outskirts of the city a week before. Or that he wouldn't be able to make that presentation the following morning that would've gotten him that promotion. Or that his unknowingly pregnant wife would have to suffer the hell of feeling her two month old fetus burn inside of her after being sired. Had he known, he would have saved himself the trouble of inviting over "drama students" at night. - Just another day in L.A.
The nest had already been cleared out. Its dwellers didn't offer much of a fight and it would have been over quickly, had he not been careless enough to fight them in a flight of stairs. Now, all he wants is a cold shower. He enters his apartment and is stunned to find a familiar figure standing in his living room so casually.
Wes: "To what do I owe this visit?"
Angel: (startled and losing grip on a priceless dagger) "Oh, uh, ahem I was just, uh--"
Wes looks at Angel with intrigue. He finds it quite amusing that this 250 year old creature could be embarrassed so easily.
Angel: (sighs) "Sorry."
Wes looks at him, forcing himself not to laugh. He walks past him and into the kitchen. Angel stares at him as he walks by, he doesn't speak, he doesn't move, he just scratches the back of his head nervously. Wes puts his cross-bow on the table and takes off his wrist-sword. He turns around and sees Angel looking around the apartment nervously.
Wes: "So," (looking at his weapons) "planning on sharing with me why is it that you came here?" (walks towards the fridge) "I already gave you everything I had on Cordelia."
Angel: "Oh, yeah, I, uh, found her..." (in a whisper) "more or less."
Wes takes out a beer from the fridge and turns towards Angel, closing the door behind him. They stand there looking awkwardly at each other for seconds that might as well have been hours.
Wes: "Do you want a beer?"
Angel: "God, yes."
Time passes by quickly. They both sit at Wes' couch and drink to days long past. After a sinful amount of ale, they both start to feel its innate effects.
Wes: "So" (holding a glass in front of himself and staring through it), "how've you been?"
Angel: (leans forward and sets a shot-glass on the table) "All right, I guess. Place isn't the same. Not since..." (he stops and looks at Wes, startled by his own comment).
Wes: (puts the glass on the table and serves himself more whiskey) ".... Since I took your son."
Angel grabs his glass and fiddles with it, avoiding eye contact.
Wes: (reclines against his seat, stretching his legs) "I never went to Holtz to betray you."
Angel: (looks at him and after a pause...) "No, I, uh, I don't imagine you did."
Wes: "He really hated you. Probably still does."
Angel: "I gave him reason enough for that."
Wes: "No."
Angel looks at him startled.
Wes: (cont.) "What happened to him wasn't your fault." (stares into the glass at the table) "There was no reason for you to pay for what Angelus did. I, uh, I thought he'd see that."
Angel sees him. A cold look of utter humiliation and disappointment crosses Wes' face and Angel takes notice.
Wes: (breathes deeply) "Didn't work though." (chuckles) "Otherwise we wouldn't be here." (drinks down the whole whiskey shot)
They remain quiet for a couple of seconds. Angel looks around the apartment.
Angel: "I would've sworn this place was bigger."
Wes: "I'm not going to apologize."
Angel's taken aback. He stares sharply at Wes who keeps staring at the shot- glass he's holding with his hands.
Wes: (cont.) "That's what you came for.... isn't it?"
Angel: (leans back on the couch, staring directly at his face) "Don't know."
Wes: (with a shy smile) "I think you did, but" (puts the glass on the table and leans back in his seat) "you're not gonna get one."
Angel doesn't respond. He just stares at him intently.
Wes: (cont.) "I admit I made a mistake, but the fact is that you tried to kill me." (raises his gaze and meets Angel's) "I can't forget that."
Angel: "Then why did you--"
Wes: "Because you're needed. You create a balance between us and them. I had to bring you back."
Angel: "Them?"
Wes: "Wolfram and Hart."
Angel: (looks at him sharply) "Is that the only reason?"
Wes: (looks at him and pauses...) "No... Fred and Gunn weren't going to last much longer without you either. I'd done all I could without them noticing and I was getting tired."
Angel: (looks at the table) "Thanks... for taking care of them. You were... you were always--"
Wes: (standing up) "I'm going to bed. I don't think I need to show you the way out. Good night." (he walks into his room, shutting the door behind him)
Angel stands still for a couple of minutes, staring at the door. He wonders if had he been more attentive or had he listened better would he still be able to reach his friend. He walks out of the apartment as quietly as he had entered it.
Inside his room, Wesley stands in front of his window observing the outside world. He notices a black convertible speeding away from his apartment building and feels relieved. He turns around and looks at the clock. It's 3:16 am. He should get back to work soon. He feels tired yet compelled to keep on. He takes a deep breath and turns around towards his desk and finds Angel staring at him from the doorway.
Wes: "Angel? I thought you'd gone to your apartment by now."
Angel: "Could say the same to you. Mind if I come in?"
Wes: "No, please, sit down." (he sits behind his desk and moves around pile after pile of case files)
Angel: (walks into the office) "Wes?"
Wes: (lifts his eyes of a template) "Can I help you?"
Angel: "Look, I, uh..."
They look at each other and burst in laughter.
Angel: (calming down) "Hmm, rough week, uh?"
Wes: "Yes, ahem, to say the least."
Angel: "Wes, you've been killing yourself over... everything that's happened lately, but you can't let things get to you the way they are."
Wes reads from the template again.
Angel: "Look, I know things are bad, but--"
Wes: "I can't decipher it." (closes the template)
Angel: "What?"
Wes: "The A'kreyen Truths. It's for a client. He's paying a substantial amount of money for this translation."
Angel: "A'kreyen?"
Wes: "Yes, they were a tribe of pure demons during the Old One's sway of the planet. Apparently our housing of an Old One has renewed interest among collectors and fanatics."
Angel: "Guess the old bitch-queen is quick in making impressions, huh?"
Wes: (grips the edges of the template with a shy smile) "Y-- yes."
Angel: (realizing he struck a nerve) "I'll leave you here to your... yeah." (stands up and walks towards the door)
Wes: "Angel..."
Angel stops at the doorway and turns around.
Wes: "... I'm sorry.... about what happened."
Angel: "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."
Wes sits there staring at the empty doorway. He doesn't move for a moment. He still doesn't understand what happened. Regardless, there is still work to be done. Prophecies to be translated. Demons to be killed. Sorcerers to be found. - Just another day at Wolfram and Hart.
Harmony walks out of the elevator. Being fashionably late is something of a talent for her; after all, she was never good in Arts & Crafts. She sits at her desk when she's approached by a large man fitting every stereotype of a white, fifty-something American.
Harmony: "Welcome to Wolfram and Hart. How may I help you?"
Man: "Yeah, hon, I'm here to see your boss."
Harmony: "Well, do you have an appointment?"
Man: "Just tell him Detective James Rutteger is here to see him."
Harmony takes to the telephone. As she's engaged in a conversation, Det. Rutteger roams around the area.
Harmony: "Excuse me!"
Rutteger turns towards her.
Harmony: "He'll see you now."
The detective and Harmony walk towards the large double doors.
Harmony: (opening the door) "Don't be afraid. He won't bite."
James: "I'm sure he won't."
Rutteger walks into the office, towards the desk.
James: "You gonna invite me for a drink at least? No? Jeez, back when Holland was here you could count on at least certain perks." (walks towards the window) "Gotta love the mountain, huh?" (pauses) "You have a serious problem, kid. I've been here working for your bosses for centuries and I've always done my duties, just as this company does theirs. Now, I didn't sell my children's souls to the Partner's for immortality and a place beneath their wings for it all to come down so fast." (turns around and sits in the chairs in front of the desk) "It happened. Last night. Two were murdered. He's here in the city and you have to find him fast before they do. If you wait any longer he--"
He's interrupted by his finger. He holds it high up, commanding him to quiet down. He leans forward and spits a finger nail in front of Rutteger, then reclines back on his chair.
Lindsey: "I'm sorry." (with a cocky smile) "You were saying?"
-- Fin.
There's not much to do in these cold autumn nights. Saving lives and fighting the 'good fight' aren't as savory as they used to be. He walks with a slight limp carrying the weapons of the hunt. He hurt his leg while fighting a nest full of vampires in the suburbs. The house's previous owner had made the incredible mistake of inviting his daughters "drama" classmate inside one particular evening for finals study session. That was five months ago.
Little did Mr. Duvall know then that his daughter had met him at a rave in the outskirts of the city a week before. Or that he wouldn't be able to make that presentation the following morning that would've gotten him that promotion. Or that his unknowingly pregnant wife would have to suffer the hell of feeling her two month old fetus burn inside of her after being sired. Had he known, he would have saved himself the trouble of inviting over "drama students" at night. - Just another day in L.A.
The nest had already been cleared out. Its dwellers didn't offer much of a fight and it would have been over quickly, had he not been careless enough to fight them in a flight of stairs. Now, all he wants is a cold shower. He enters his apartment and is stunned to find a familiar figure standing in his living room so casually.
Wes: "To what do I owe this visit?"
Angel: (startled and losing grip on a priceless dagger) "Oh, uh, ahem I was just, uh--"
Wes looks at Angel with intrigue. He finds it quite amusing that this 250 year old creature could be embarrassed so easily.
Angel: (sighs) "Sorry."
Wes looks at him, forcing himself not to laugh. He walks past him and into the kitchen. Angel stares at him as he walks by, he doesn't speak, he doesn't move, he just scratches the back of his head nervously. Wes puts his cross-bow on the table and takes off his wrist-sword. He turns around and sees Angel looking around the apartment nervously.
Wes: "So," (looking at his weapons) "planning on sharing with me why is it that you came here?" (walks towards the fridge) "I already gave you everything I had on Cordelia."
Angel: "Oh, yeah, I, uh, found her..." (in a whisper) "more or less."
Wes takes out a beer from the fridge and turns towards Angel, closing the door behind him. They stand there looking awkwardly at each other for seconds that might as well have been hours.
Wes: "Do you want a beer?"
Angel: "God, yes."
Time passes by quickly. They both sit at Wes' couch and drink to days long past. After a sinful amount of ale, they both start to feel its innate effects.
Wes: "So" (holding a glass in front of himself and staring through it), "how've you been?"
Angel: (leans forward and sets a shot-glass on the table) "All right, I guess. Place isn't the same. Not since..." (he stops and looks at Wes, startled by his own comment).
Wes: (puts the glass on the table and serves himself more whiskey) ".... Since I took your son."
Angel grabs his glass and fiddles with it, avoiding eye contact.
Wes: (reclines against his seat, stretching his legs) "I never went to Holtz to betray you."
Angel: (looks at him and after a pause...) "No, I, uh, I don't imagine you did."
Wes: "He really hated you. Probably still does."
Angel: "I gave him reason enough for that."
Wes: "No."
Angel looks at him startled.
Wes: (cont.) "What happened to him wasn't your fault." (stares into the glass at the table) "There was no reason for you to pay for what Angelus did. I, uh, I thought he'd see that."
Angel sees him. A cold look of utter humiliation and disappointment crosses Wes' face and Angel takes notice.
Wes: (breathes deeply) "Didn't work though." (chuckles) "Otherwise we wouldn't be here." (drinks down the whole whiskey shot)
They remain quiet for a couple of seconds. Angel looks around the apartment.
Angel: "I would've sworn this place was bigger."
Wes: "I'm not going to apologize."
Angel's taken aback. He stares sharply at Wes who keeps staring at the shot- glass he's holding with his hands.
Wes: (cont.) "That's what you came for.... isn't it?"
Angel: (leans back on the couch, staring directly at his face) "Don't know."
Wes: (with a shy smile) "I think you did, but" (puts the glass on the table and leans back in his seat) "you're not gonna get one."
Angel doesn't respond. He just stares at him intently.
Wes: (cont.) "I admit I made a mistake, but the fact is that you tried to kill me." (raises his gaze and meets Angel's) "I can't forget that."
Angel: "Then why did you--"
Wes: "Because you're needed. You create a balance between us and them. I had to bring you back."
Angel: "Them?"
Wes: "Wolfram and Hart."
Angel: (looks at him sharply) "Is that the only reason?"
Wes: (looks at him and pauses...) "No... Fred and Gunn weren't going to last much longer without you either. I'd done all I could without them noticing and I was getting tired."
Angel: (looks at the table) "Thanks... for taking care of them. You were... you were always--"
Wes: (standing up) "I'm going to bed. I don't think I need to show you the way out. Good night." (he walks into his room, shutting the door behind him)
Angel stands still for a couple of minutes, staring at the door. He wonders if had he been more attentive or had he listened better would he still be able to reach his friend. He walks out of the apartment as quietly as he had entered it.
Inside his room, Wesley stands in front of his window observing the outside world. He notices a black convertible speeding away from his apartment building and feels relieved. He turns around and looks at the clock. It's 3:16 am. He should get back to work soon. He feels tired yet compelled to keep on. He takes a deep breath and turns around towards his desk and finds Angel staring at him from the doorway.
Wes: "Angel? I thought you'd gone to your apartment by now."
Angel: "Could say the same to you. Mind if I come in?"
Wes: "No, please, sit down." (he sits behind his desk and moves around pile after pile of case files)
Angel: (walks into the office) "Wes?"
Wes: (lifts his eyes of a template) "Can I help you?"
Angel: "Look, I, uh..."
They look at each other and burst in laughter.
Angel: (calming down) "Hmm, rough week, uh?"
Wes: "Yes, ahem, to say the least."
Angel: "Wes, you've been killing yourself over... everything that's happened lately, but you can't let things get to you the way they are."
Wes reads from the template again.
Angel: "Look, I know things are bad, but--"
Wes: "I can't decipher it." (closes the template)
Angel: "What?"
Wes: "The A'kreyen Truths. It's for a client. He's paying a substantial amount of money for this translation."
Angel: "A'kreyen?"
Wes: "Yes, they were a tribe of pure demons during the Old One's sway of the planet. Apparently our housing of an Old One has renewed interest among collectors and fanatics."
Angel: "Guess the old bitch-queen is quick in making impressions, huh?"
Wes: (grips the edges of the template with a shy smile) "Y-- yes."
Angel: (realizing he struck a nerve) "I'll leave you here to your... yeah." (stands up and walks towards the door)
Wes: "Angel..."
Angel stops at the doorway and turns around.
Wes: "... I'm sorry.... about what happened."
Angel: "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."
Wes sits there staring at the empty doorway. He doesn't move for a moment. He still doesn't understand what happened. Regardless, there is still work to be done. Prophecies to be translated. Demons to be killed. Sorcerers to be found. - Just another day at Wolfram and Hart.
Harmony walks out of the elevator. Being fashionably late is something of a talent for her; after all, she was never good in Arts & Crafts. She sits at her desk when she's approached by a large man fitting every stereotype of a white, fifty-something American.
Harmony: "Welcome to Wolfram and Hart. How may I help you?"
Man: "Yeah, hon, I'm here to see your boss."
Harmony: "Well, do you have an appointment?"
Man: "Just tell him Detective James Rutteger is here to see him."
Harmony takes to the telephone. As she's engaged in a conversation, Det. Rutteger roams around the area.
Harmony: "Excuse me!"
Rutteger turns towards her.
Harmony: "He'll see you now."
The detective and Harmony walk towards the large double doors.
Harmony: (opening the door) "Don't be afraid. He won't bite."
James: "I'm sure he won't."
Rutteger walks into the office, towards the desk.
James: "You gonna invite me for a drink at least? No? Jeez, back when Holland was here you could count on at least certain perks." (walks towards the window) "Gotta love the mountain, huh?" (pauses) "You have a serious problem, kid. I've been here working for your bosses for centuries and I've always done my duties, just as this company does theirs. Now, I didn't sell my children's souls to the Partner's for immortality and a place beneath their wings for it all to come down so fast." (turns around and sits in the chairs in front of the desk) "It happened. Last night. Two were murdered. He's here in the city and you have to find him fast before they do. If you wait any longer he--"
He's interrupted by his finger. He holds it high up, commanding him to quiet down. He leans forward and spits a finger nail in front of Rutteger, then reclines back on his chair.
Lindsey: "I'm sorry." (with a cocky smile) "You were saying?"
-- Fin.