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a/n: once again, you guys are awesome with the reviews.

Chapter twelve: Of Pancakes and BLT's

There was a flash of brilliant lights, and the wind surged past them violently. It was all Wesley could manage to stay standing and to keep hold of Fred's hand. When the chaos had ended, he was standing outside of the diner once more. Only then did he turn to look at her.

Fred.

It was Fred.

It was Fred.

They merely stared at one another for a moment, too overcome to speak, and then they were closing the distance between them, desperately clinging to one another. This was no by the book, sweeping music reunion; this was the reunion of two lovers denied the opportunity to share a life together, of two souls that had been prematurely ripped apart, and it was messy. Painful. But beautiful.

"Fred," Wesley managed when the broken sobs and moans of anguish had finally subsided, "thank God it's you."

Her face was buried against his chest, and she was holding onto him so tightly that it was painful; he couldn't seem to mind. "I knew you'd come for me...I knew you'd come for me..."

He reached for her chin, tilted up her face so that he could study her. "Are you all right? I'm sorry you were left for so long down there..."

"I survived," Fred returned, smiling through her tears, "Lindsey helped me. He went out of his way to protect me, and now..."

But she couldn't bear to think of that, not now when she had just become happy again. If there was anything she could do for Lindsey...but it was impossible.

To distract herself, she let her gaze run over her new surroundings. It was so warm, so blissfully warm. There were parks and grass and trees– oh, she'd missed trees!– and most importantly, there was Wesley. And for some odd reason, a diner.

"Is that a diner?" she inquired, furrowing her brow.

Wesley glanced back over his shoulder. "Yes, it is. It's quite a place– they make a mean BLT. Are you hungry?"

Fred shook her head quickly. "No! Well, yes, but that's such a lame thing to do. I mean, we were just reunited and your soul was nearly destroyed for me and– "

"–and we'll have the rest of eternity to discuss it," Wesley finished gently. "Why don't we get you some food?"

Once inside the diner, a plate of pancakes was brought to Fred before she even ordered, and a BLT was brought to Wesley. Fred's mouth literally salivated at the sight of the food, and she glanced up quickly to smile at the waitress. "Thank you...Jenny."

"No problem," the dark-haired, pretty woman returned, smiling at them. "And congratulations, you two. That was a brave thing you did."

No sooner had Fred taken two bites into the most delicious pancakes she had ever eaten than the door burst open and a pretty but unrecognizable blonde woman rushed in. She marched purposefully over to Wesley. "You survived," she said briskly, "and your soul wasn't destroyed. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Wesley said, glancing to Fred. "Fred, I'd like to introduce you to Anya, an old friend from Sunnydale. She helped do the research in order to release you."

Fred smiled brightly at her. "Hi. Thanks for everything."

Anya gave a curt nod. "I'm used to doing the research. And I was glad to help Wesley. He's quite a fellow."

Fred met Wesley's gaze, still smiling. "He certainly is."

Jenny the waitress appeared from behind the counter. "Oh, hi, Anya. Thanks for taking my shift. He should be here any minute."

"He?" Wesley inquired curiously.

The bell above the door rang, and Jenny smiled to herself. "Rupert."

Seeing the confusion on Fred's and Wesley's faces, Anya cleared her throat. "Every time a bell rings– "

"An angel gets its wings?" Fred finished tentatively.

Anya stared at her as though she'd grown a third arm. "Don't be ridiculous. Angels don't need wings– they have golf carts. The bell rings whenever a new person is entering Heaven."

The door to the diner burst open again, and there were Cordelia, Doyle, and Tara. All rushed over and began offering their congratulations. Cordelia and Fred hugged tightly and did the whole girly thing about gushing how good they looked, while Doyle and Wesley more manfully shook hands and talked about the weather.

The bell rang once again over the door, and Doyle shook his head ruefully. "This place is about to get flooded. The final battle is over between Angel and the baddies."

Cordelia glanced down at her watch. "Which reminds me– I have to go see Gunn."

"Did we win then?" Tara inquired hopefully.

"Of course," Doyle returned, "good vs evil and all that, remember? But that doesn't mean we won't have a few new friends up here..."

Wesley looked up and glanced around. There were many people he didn't recognize, but there was also Gunn in the back booth with Cordelia, and Giles talking to Jenny the waitress, and that Nina girl whom Angel had briefly dated...

There was a sudden beeping noise, and Wesley glanced down at his watch in surprise. "Funny...I didn't even know I was wearing a watch."

"That's your pager, mate," Doyle informed him, "it means you're supposed to meet with someone who just got here."

Wesley furrowed his brow in confusion. "But...who?"

"You'll know when you see 'em."

Wesley obligingly rose to his feet, glancing back at Fred. "Come with me?"

Together they searched the crowded diner until Wesley's gaze finally fell upon a nearly-empty booth. There was a darkly pretty girl sitting there, looking around rather nervously.

Faith.

At one time, he might have balked at the idea of being the one to bring her into Heaven, but now it seemed the natural way of things. He had been her watcher, and now he was finally getting the chance to guide her.

"Mind if I sit down?"

"Wesley," Faith said quickly, sounding almost relieved at seeing a familiar face, "and...Fred, right?"

"Yeah." Fred returned kindly, giving a quick smile. "Hi."

They seated themselves across from her. Faith shifted uncomfortably in the seat. "So, I'm dead, right?"

"Yes," Wesley confirmed quietly, "but the news is good. You're in Heaven."

Faith gave a short laugh. "Me? Heaven? That's rich."

"You turned your life around, Faith," Wesley reminded her, "and the Higher Powers have recognized that. I'm very proud of you for making it."

There was the flicker of an emotion in Faith's eyes, though she quickly composed herself. "Thanks, Wes." She leaned back in her seat. "I gotta say, I'm kinda surprised to see the two of you here together. Rumor had it that Fred's soul was all burned up."

Wesley and Fred exchanged a quick glance. "Well, it's sort of a long story..." Wesley began.

"My soul was stuck in the middle ground between Heaven and Hell," Fred explained, "and Wesley came to save me. But I was being protected by Lindsey– "

"Lindsey the laywer?" Faith repeated dubiously, then laughed at herself. "Check me out, being skeptical of people changing their lives around."

"And he did change," Fred said quietly, looking troubled. "I wish there was a way we could save him, but there's no way the Mayor would let him go– "

Faith's face had grown very pale. "What did you just say?"

Wesley's eyes dawned with recognition. "The Mayor. He's the Guardian of the middle plane."

Fred looked back and forth between them, clearly confused. "What's going on? Did I miss something?"

Faith and Wesley were smiling at one another now. "Let's just say," Faith returned evenly, "that there may be a way to rescue our boy Lindsey yet."