Note: Lots happening in this chapter. Keep reviewing and keep me smiling. P.S.--Italics in this chapter indicate a little conversation in Wes's head only.

Chapter Eleven – Torture Me, but Don't Put Me in Charge

Hell dimension this wasn't. He'd been there, done that before. This was just sheer, agonizing boredom. They'd take him out every once in a while, torture him a little, then leave him be. At least it wasn't couple hundred years of torture like the last time.

What he couldn't figure out was, what did they want with him? They weren't asking him for information, weren't threatening him for some past deed he had performed. He was purely, simply a prisoner. And it was driving him crazy.

Crazier than Cordy's screeches, crazier than Wesley and Cordy fighting, crazier than when Wes said Eureka, crazier than Fred babbling. Shoot. He couldn't think of anything for Gunn. They'd give him enough time though. Oh, crazier than Gunn's attitude. There. He thought of one.

He'd trade everything just to see their faces once again. The last months were fuzzy at best. He couldn't even remember how he'd gotten there.

Maybe he'd sing. That might drive the guards crazy. Mandy at the top of his lungs.

Things were so screwy before the prisoner thing, he kept wondering if this was all some kind of a dream. He'd wake up, be in his old apartment in the basement. And that would be that.

But that apartment was gone now, blown up by a nasty guy with maggots on his face. Disgusting. That was one of those times where he checked his hair fifteen times to make sure one of them hadn't jumped in and taken up residence. Cordelia finally yelled at him that his hair looked fine, which made him even more self-conscious.

Maybe he could wake up in his nice, comfy bed at the Hyperion then. Or maybe the couch in his office. No, Wes's office. No, wait a minute. It was his office again. Still, there was no place like home.

His home, his office, his friends, weird that they were. He'd walk in, Cordy would be manning the phones while looking at a fashion magazine, Fred would be computing the number for pi, and Gunn and Wesley would be playing video games.

But no. He sat on a stone floor, rats crawling around, no bed, no home, no friends, and most of all no Connor.

And it just pissed him off.

"You know what? That's it."

Angel banged and banged on the bar door until his legs gave out in exhaustion.

"I will be ready. You know that. And when I do, no one is going to be safe."

Ha, that'll show 'em. What, that he'd been stuck in a cell for months without anyone caring. It was better being at the bottom of the ocean.

So he'd escape, hunt down every single one of his friends, and kill them. Teach them to forget about him.

"Could someone please torture me now?"


"How do we get back in?" Wesley asked Riley as they sat down to meet.

Xander, Riley, Faith, Dawn, Connor, Giles, and Wesley sat at a table to develop strategy. They'd have to rely on the military to get them in.

"We were thinking the drop zone could be here, in the desert." Riley pointed to a map.

"Too far from where we need to be," Wesley answered back.

"Excuse me? Aren't we going to LA?" Xander added.

"We can't go in there blind." Didn't these military types get stealth? "We need to gather some reconnaissance before heading to LA."

"Wes, the longer we wait," Dawn chimed in.

"I know. But I have a plan." Wesley pointed to where the drop should be made.

"Too far inside enemy territory."

"You picked us up there, you stupid ass, you can put us back," Faith added.

"We need to be close enough, but not too close." Wesley didn't want the demons to figure out his scheme. Connor shook his head slowly. He'd already figured out part of the plan.

"Now you've lost me, Wesley. I'm not seeing it." Riley was clearly frustrated.

"What's your plan, Wesley?" Giles sat up, intrigued.

"There's an enclave, refugee camp about fifty miles south of Lake Tahoe. What's unusual about it is its population. Humans and demons."

"So not all the demons were in on the takeover," someone else added.

"I would say most of them were not. I think many of the bad ones just took advantage. Someone in that camp will know who's responsible."

"We know just the fella to ask. But maybe I should do the asking, Wes, because the last time didn't turn out so well," Faith told the group.

"What happened? You get pissed off and try to kill someone?" Xander hit it on the nose.

Dawn, Faith and Connor all looked at each other. "Well, I wouldn't say he went that far," Dawn started.

"I'll talk to him," Faith said. "Besides, Wesley is much better now."

"And he's sitting in the room right now listening. I am not a psychopath, Faith."

"Takes one to know one," Xander mumbled.

"No, you're not. We just have to convince Lorne to let us back in and help us with lots of info."

"My teams will gear up," Riley interrupted.

"No. It'll just be myself and Faith."

The room erupted in voices, each dissenting to that part of the plan. Faith just threw up her hands.

"Wait, everyone would you please listen." No one did. Wesley sat, exasperated. No one liked his plan.

Faith whistled for everyone to shut up. "OK. I am talking first because it's my ass on the line here. Wes, bad plan."

Even his own girlfriend thought his plan was bad.

"Girlfriend?" she mouthed his way. He shrugged.

"What I mean is, the part that I disagree with is the you and me. We need serious backup on this one, honey."

"If we want to move fast and silent, how are we going to do that with all those bodies?"

"She's right, Wesley. This is not the time to be worried about those girls. They've been trained well," Giles told him.

"That's not what he's worried about, Mr. Giles," Connor added.

"Then what, 'cause I'm not seeing a plan here at all." Xander sighed.

Kind of like an Angel plan. Pound first, ask questions later. That was Cordy talking in his head now. Was that his plan?

If you try to get no one killed, you end up getting everyone killed. Gunn was there too.

Fight the good fight and go down with guns a blazin'. Fred now.

Just be sure you're making the right choice so we'll know where to pick up the body, if there's one left. Angel made his appearance.

"Hey, Wes. You OK?" Faith whispered to him. Everyone was waiting for him to answer.

"Wes, it's OK. We're with you on this. We'll get them back." Wes heard 'them'. Who's 'them'?

"What did you say Dawn?"

"I said we'd get her, Buffy back. Why?"

"Nothing. How stealthy can your guys make us, Riley?"

"Pretty stealthy. That's what we do for a living."

"They were so stealthy in Sunnydale it only took us a month, maybe two to figure it out. That's 'cause they let Spike go and ruin it all."

"He escaped," Riley growled.

"All I have to say is Hostile 17. And he ended up saving the world. So ironic wouldn't you say?"

Xander was right, Wesley thought. How a being such as Spike sacrificed himself to save the world? Those pesky souls sure do get in the way. And he'd had a slayer army to back him up too. Things do work out in the end, at least for the world it did.

They sat for the rest of the day hashing out the details. Was it a good plan? Maybe. Would there be danger? Lots and lots. Would someone get killed? More than likely.

Wesley needed a drink in the worst way. Here everyone went and put him in charge again. He still wasn't sure why people kept doing that. One day they'd learn.

So Wesley slipped out without anyone seeing him, including Faith and made his way to the Officers' Club. A few patrons looked his way, but said nothing.

"What'll it be?"

"It's been a while. How about a gin and tonic."

The bartender went off to fix his drink. Wesley looked at himself in the mirror on the wall at the back of the bar. When did he ever look that mean? Maybe when Lilah taunted him. But she wanted him mean. She wanted him disgusted with himself and the world. She wanted him any way she could get him.

"I really don't know what you saw in her, Wes." Faith moved in beside him at the bar. The bartender sat his drink down in front of him.

"What'll you have, miss?"

"Whatever he's having, minus the alcohol."

"Not much of a drink."

"Not much of a drinker. Saw enough of it to last two lifetimes. You?"

"Probably drank enough to last two lifetimes."

"Never pegged you as a drinker. No, wait. Self-destructive attitude. Should have known."

Wesley took a drink and let it slide down his throat, feeling that familiar burn all the way down to his stomach. "You here to pick a fight?"

"Nah. Just following you. Make sure you don't pick a fight."

"Not in the mood."

"Ha. I'm not so sure that's the case, but what the hell do I know. Your plan, the first one was good, you know."

"Then why did you shit all over it?"

"Because I wasn't the only one in that room. I don't want to see anyone else hurt either. I would just rather go in and do this myself."

"So why don't we?"

"Not the way it works. And I like your skinny ass too much."

"Just like? And I'm not that skinny."

"OK, love. And yeah you are. Compared to Angel, you definitely are. Man does he have some shoulders on him. And his arms, huge. Gunn's aren't bad either. But you. You're all tall and lanky, sort of like a swimmer or a runner's body."

"Why are we talking about this?"

"You know, lots of stamina." Wesley sputtered his drink out. "Your mind was so in the gutter on that one."

"You said it, not me," Wesley laughed. "You keep me on my toes."

"I aim to please."

"You talk about them like they're not dead."

"Sometimes I feel they aren't. Hey, I know what you saw though. I'd just like to believe otherwise. I'm not ready to grieve just yet. Know what I'm craving?"

Wesley glared at her. "Not a word I want to hear coming from your mouth."

"Hey, don't be such a spaz. Ice cream."

"Mmm. Ice cream and gin. Yummy combination."

"Let's go find some. Maybe some whipped cream too."

"With cherries?"

"You know, I wonder why no one ever sees this side of you. Mild-mannered watcher. Reads old books all day. Then talk about whipped cream and you turn all caveman on me."

Wesley and Faith rose to leave. The bartender looked at the money Wesley left and handed it back to him. "Already paid for." Several very large guys saluted him.

"Either they were hitting on you or me. I wonder which?" Wesley wondered as they pushed out the door.

"Probably know your reputation, crazy man."

"Do you know how many times people thought that I or Angel or both were gay?"

"Hey, I always knew you weren't." Faith held his hand as they walked down a pathway.

"How is that?"

"I saw how you watched us, Buffy and me, when we worked out. And you weren't in watcher mode. You were in guy mode."

"Sorry about that."

"I'm not."

"Really I . . . ." Faith grabbed him and pulled his head down for a kiss. He deepened it, lost to her in his own little world. Faith finally broke it off when someone walked by. They'd have to be careful on their mission. People could stomp by and they'd never know.

"We really need to find that whipped cream," Faith finally said.

Wesley pulled out several wrapped packages from his pocket and smiled.

"I do not want to know who you asked for those. Too embarrassing. Besides, that's not enough."

"What?"

"May last tonight."

"Faith, I'm not that young any more."

Faith yanked on Wesley's belt to pull him close again. "We'll see about that."

"You'll be the death of me yet."

"Hey, but you'll die happy."

"There is that."

TBC