Chapter Four – Misunderstandings and Apologies
Buffy met Faith in a training room later that day, still holding her head, but ready to train nonetheless.
"Beer bad. Why don't they tell you that?"
"Uh, kinda what beer is for, B. Getting drunk?"
"You're so smart, you know that," Buffy mocked her.
"Bitch. You're just doin' that to piss me off."
"Nah."
Buffy and Faith circled each other, wanting to work off all the excess energy they had built up in the past couple of days.
"Hey, patrol, tonight?" Faith asked, almost begging Buffy.
Faith really did need to go kill something, desperately. Since she hadn't had sex with anyone, the next best thing was to kill something. Of course, that would probably make the first problem worse. She really did envy Buffy at that moment. She hadn't slayed enough in the past couple of months. Faith wanted to get back in on the action.
"So, B. How's that new guy? Immortal something or other?"
"Kaput. Out the door. Man, I sure can pick 'em sometimes."
Oh, goody, Faith thought. Not the only one around here who's horny. Buffy might be in to giving her a rough workout.
"You're tellin' me. Men. Your comment last night? The hottest of the hottest? Very lame," Faith said as she lashed out with her foot.
"True. Not like we can do anything about it though. I hate them all."
Buffy took the opportunity to take a swing at Faith, missing because Faith saw it coming from a mile away.
"We need to hang with different people."
"At least different guys. Now I know why I haven't introduced any of them to Mark."
Who, what, where, when flew through Faith's brain, enough to break her concentration. Buffy had her down on the mat in seconds flat.
"Mark?" Faith asked as she flipped herself back into fighting position.
"Mark," Buffy sighed.
Faith almost made a face. Buffy was hot to trot for this guy. And Faith couldn't get any.
"New guy?"
"New guy. I guess I can introduce him to you," Buffy started, not sure that it was a good idea. "Just make sure you wear clothes."
Faith laughed at that thought. Did Buffy see her as competition?
"I mostly do. So, Mark? I need info," Faith said as she feinted to the left, and then went right.
"He's a nice guy," Buffy told her as she spun away from Faith's assault.
"You don't date nice guys. Even Captain Cardboard turned out to be not so nice."
"Hey," Buffy protested while throwing a kick Faith's way.
"Not my nickname. Spike. Who by the way hasn't said two words to you."
"I know. It just hasn't been the right moment. The guy has more lives than a cat."
Faith swung out and connected with Buffy's arm. Buffy winced slightly, but kept going.
"My watcher has more lives than that."
"I think Spike wins on the dying count. Yeah, tell me about your watcher. I'm surprised he's not here to watch," Buffy started, with the emphasis on the word watch, "over you."
"It's complicated."
Buffy connected with an uppercut to Faith's stomach, which sent her to the floor.
"I have time," Buffy answered, putting her hand down for Faith to take.
"Doubtful," Faith stood up, and stopped moving.
"You don't know what to do about him, do you? I'll have to admit, I don't blame you."
"What?" Faith asked, hands on her hips. She was getting annoyed with Buffy's line of questioning.
"Must have been some heavy stuff the two of you went through. It's only natural that there's some attraction."
"Whoa. Hold on there. You and Giles?"
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Not on your life. He's just old."
"What is it with slayers and older men?"
"Xander never stood a chance."
Faith plopped herself down on the floor. Buffy soon followed, raising her knees up to cushion her elbows.
"We're a pair," Buffy started.
"With you, it's vampires."
"Yeah, with you it's watchers."
"Only one."
Buffy pointed to her. "See. Told ya so."
"Not going there, B."
Buffy waved to someone over Faith's shoulder. She turned to see a man enter the room. He was tall, lanky, glasses, almost a Wesley clone. Only this guy had darker hair and brown eyes. Buffy got up and greeted the guy with a kiss, a full on the lips kiss. Must be that new guy, Mark, Faith concluded. She almost snickered at whom Buffy was now dating. Slowly, Faith rose to greet the guy. Maybe she should warn him about Angel and Spike.
"Mark? This is Faith. Faith? This is Mark."
Mark stuck his hand out for Faith to shake. His grip was strong and firm. He didn't shy away from her one bit. Which meant the guy had some balls. Of course, dating Buffy meant that he did, to a certain degree.
"Mark works in Research. Matter a fact, he's the new head of Research," Buffy said, trying to make an impression on Faith.
"Fucking Wesley clone," Faith said under her breath.
Buffy stared at her sister slayer, but didn't retort back.
"Another slayer. I'll say, it's really good to meet you finally, Faith."
Faith almost groaned. And he was English. She wanted to run to Wes and tell him that he wasn't so bad anymore.
"Yeah, whatever. I need to find Wes so he can knock some sense into me."
"Huh?" Buffy looked at her funny.
"Nothin'. I really need to go."
"Faith? I would really like to chat with you when you get a chance. Along with Mr. Pryce. I hear he's a fascinating fellow."
Faith snorted at that comment. "Hardass, if you ask me. I'll see when he can talk to you."
"I've always admired him. It seems no one has ever gotten better marks in the linguistics department. And I need advice on how to go about replacing some of the more archaic texts."
"He's your man," Faith said as she startedto leave.
Oh, God, she really wanted to be in the room when Spike and Angel met this guy. It would kill the both of them. Sure, this guy was nice and all. But he was a geek. Buffy never dated geeks.
"See ya," Faith shouted as she accidentally backed into the doorframe.
"Tell Giles if you see him that I want to talk," Buffy asked her.
"Will do."
Buffy turned back to the geek, smiling up at him softly. Faith rolled her eyes upward. What was the world coming to if Buffy was dating a geek, Willow and Xander were doing something that she didn't even want to know, and she and Wes verbally spared daily, making her hot and horny as hell?
Tracking down that Sam guy seemed to be the best idea she had. At least he wasn't off limits to her.
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"Do you think that they will try to come after all of you?" Giles asked Wesley.
"I have no idea. Wolfram and Hart never does what one thinks they might do."
"Then we must plan. Obviously they are in a state of chaos from the Los Angeles office collapsing."
"Literally."
Giles and Wesley were in Giles's office. The view out the big picture window was spectacular, which was why neither Angel nor Spike could go into the room, unless the curtains were pulled. It was old world to the extreme. Dark wood furniture, bookcases surrounding the room, thick carpets adorning the floors. The only modern conveniences were the computer, fax machine and phone.
"Literally?" Giles asked, not knowing exactly to what Wesley was referring.
"As in no more. Didn't you know that the building collapsed?"
"That explains a lot. The Council was very worried that they would be able to put the operation back together quickly."
"How much does the Council know about the law firm?"
"Entirely too little, I'm afraid. Most of the records were destroyed, along with the people who had the knowledge."
Instead of sitting behind the big, ominous desk in the room, Giles was sitting directly beside him, as an equal. His father would have sat on that other side, judging him on how he had messed up the situation. Not that Giles hadn't ever judged him, because he very much had judged all of them in the past year. That was old news.
"I will get started on recreating those files for you. It shouldn't take me more than, say, two to three years. And that's just on the Los Angeles branch only."
"We have already started to rebuild what was lost. But you are right. It will take time. This Council will be different. I've seen to that. I have the dossiers on the members, like you asked."
Giles handed over the thick collection of paper files to Wesley. He still couldn't believe that Giles trusted him enough to go through these files. Since not too long before, he wouldn't even talk to Angel to help save Fred.
"Good," Wesley answered with a hint of melancholy in his voice.
"There are some other things that we need to discuss. I think that I need to apologize for my behavior."
Wesley was thinking about last night, but couldn't remember anything that Giles might have done to warrant an apology.
"Giles, my head is splitting, so I'm not following."
"I was wrong to not help when I was needed. Although I doubt I would have done much good."
"Fred," Wesley whispered. "It is over and done. You couldn't have known."
"I had no records regarding the Old Ones. In addition, there was no Council to speak of. Just remnants of the old one. Everything was in such chaos, I'm not sure who could have helped."
"Once the infection became apparent, I knew that we were too late."
"How long did it take?"
"A day perhaps."
Wesley hadn't spoken with anyone about what had happened when Fred was taken over by Illyria. Angel and Spike had been off in England trying to find a cure, while Gunn was with Knox. He had been by himself, to watch as Fred succumbed to the infection and Illyria took over.
"I am sorry."
"I know that you are. But the situation that we were in, to save an innocent life? The squabbling wasn't worth the price."
Giles solemnly shook his head in agreement. "We shall strive to do better."
"There cannot be a next time. They'll win. They almost did win. They took out too many of us, divided us until we were almost helpless."
"We aren't helpless any longer, now are we?" Giles told him, trying to convince Wesley and himself of that fact.
Wesley got up to pace the room. Were they ready if some other evil reared its ugly head? What if the Circle of the Black Thorn reformed itself? Wolfram and Hart was out there, ready to pounce on any mistake or perceived weakness. They had enemies, very formidable enemies.
"We're not prepared," Wesley said simply.
"We are as prepared as we can be, and we become stronger every day."
Wesley stopped his pacing to stand by the window, to look down at the beautiful afternoon scene. A few people milled about, a couple of slayers meditating, someone eating a sandwich in the sunshine.
"How many slayers do you have fully trained? How many watchers? Giles, from what I've seen, you are very far from being fully staffed."
"It will take time to do all that needs to be done."
Wesley turned to look pointedly at Giles. "You don't have that time."
"I will not send those girls out to be slaughtered. With proper training, they will succeed."
Wesleydid not want to go back to the old ways of training for watchers and slayers. It had been woefully inadequate in his time. Real world scenarios were never a part of histraining. They must be a part of the new regime.
"I am not criticizing you," Wesley wanted the older man to know.
"Yes, you are. Remember what I told you about criticizing me?"
"Fine. I won't criticize your methods. Just as long as you keep your snide comments to yourself about mine."
"You've actually learned something in the last couple of years. Amazing."
Wesley chuckled at Giles's banter. It was a little like sparring with Cordelia, but without as much venom. Giles was much more subtle.
"Yes. Cordelia's comments about me being Mr. Know-It-All have finally gone to my head," Wesley retorted back.
"You must miss her. She could be quite refreshing at times."
Wesley's face turned serious at the thought of Cordelia and what she meant to him. But he knew that she was in a better place, able to fight in her own way.
"She grounded us. Pulled us all together. Gave us purpose."
"That purpose has not gone away. There is still evil to fight."
Sometimes Wesley thought about the evil that had killed him. He had been given a second chance. Why was he wasting it on the very thing that took everything he cherished away from him?
Wesley placed his palm against the glass, feeling the warming tingle that accompanied it. Although it was quite hot that day, he still hadn't warmed up. He suspected it was the hangover. Faith was always plying him with warm drinks, tea, coffee, cider, whatever to take the chill away. Nothing worked. Only when she held his hands in hers for a while would it go away. Was it because he was dead at some point, or the magicks that he used to cure her?
Sighing, he looked down on the courtyard again, listening to Giles drone on about his plans for the Academy. He truly wanted to listen to what Giles was going to do, but his brain would not focus. Seeing the flash of dark hair down below made him stand up straighter. He hadn't seen Faith since her wakeup call. He assumed that she went to train. But looking down at what she was doing, it didn't look like training to him.
"Wesley? Is everything alright?" Giles asked as he approached the window.
"Faith," Wesley growled as he looked below.
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"Ah, damn it," Spike said as he walked into the library.
He just wished for one place where he wouldn't run into anyone he knew. The place was populated with people that asked how he was doing, did he need anything, etc., etc. He just wanted to find a dark corner and hide. The room he was staying in became too stifling. So he wandered the large townhouse that Giles had set them up in, wishing for sunset as soon as possible.
"I'll leave," Angel called out, shutting the book that he had been reading.
"No. Sit down."
Spike flung himself into a leather chair, propping his feet up against a table. He sat there, silent as can be, watching Angel shift in his chair uncomfortably.
"Spike, you know, if you wanna talk?"
"Bout what?"
"Everything. This brooding isn't good. I know."
"Not brooding, you stupid git."
"Maybe Faith would train with you. She might find something for you to hit."
"Oh, sod off. You just want me out of your precious, overly gelled hair."
"No, I don't. Leave the hair out of it."
"Can't. It pisses you off too much to let it go."
Angel sat forward, chin in hand. "At least you're still verbally sparring with me."
"Like that's any fun."
"Spike? Is it Buffy? You know, I'm sure that she'll talk to you."
"Don't really care."
No, that wasn't true, he thought. Spike really did care. He just didn't want anyone else to know it. He knew that Buffy had moved on to better pastures. Hell, he had tried to move on to better pastures, only to be slapped back down, again. Caring about someone else just took too much work.
Spike had made a decision before coming to England. He wasn't going to get close to anyone else. Every time he did, the person either died or hated his guts. That was why he was so glad that Nibblet wasn't around. Wouldn't want her to go dying on him too.
So Buffy could stay away from him, Willow could stay away. Hey, the boy could stay away. He even wanted Faith to keep her distance. It looked as if Percy had already gotten the clue. Now he wished that Angel would sign on to the plan and leave him the hell alone.
"OK. Whatever. I'll just leave you to your solitude." Angel rose to leave Spike to brood. "But at some point, you will need to talk about whatever is bothering you. Before it eats you up inside."
It already had, Spike thought.
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Fred banged her head against the wall in frustration. Spike was turning out to be a harder case than she had ever imagined. Depressed wasn't a harsh enough word for what he was becoming. She really did need to think of more drastic measures to snap him out of it. He was making her feel it too. At least Angel tried to comfort him.
But what if she failed? Would he stake himself? Let up in some fight and have some demon dust him? That wouldn't be good, she thought. Walking outside the cottage, Fred paced back and forth around the small house, going over what she could do to at least make him feel better about himself.
"Do you always gesture like that?" Lindsey asked as he came upon her wildly flailing arms.
"I'm thinking."
"Definitely not about gardening." Lindsey pointed to her feet, which had trampled some daisies.
"Oh, phooey," Fred stomped.
"Tell me what's wrong," Lindsey implored her to do.
"What ya think?"
"He'll come around."
"You've said that way too many times."
"Maybe because I believe in you."
"Ha," Fred challenged, not sure whether she believed in herself anymore.
She really wanted to do a good job. Spike was important to her. He had treated her as an equal. Well, as equal as one could be with a ghost. He didn't patronize her like Angel and the rest did. She wasn't the weakling, the damsel in distress. Of course, that's how she ended up. Handsome men couldn't save her from the monsters.
Instead, this time she would save the handsome man, vampire, from the monsters. His own monsters.
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Faith explored the compound that housed the Watchers' Council. Since it was a bright, sunny day, she walked the grounds, soaking in the rays. Her shoulders were getting a little pink by the time she decided it was time to find her watcher. She hadn't really talked to him since the incident in the hallway. But she had no earthly idea where the man would be. The place was just too damn big. She didn't even know where the exit was, to be able to find the townhouse where they were staying in across the street.
Every time she tried to stop someone, they hurried away. Her reputation must be common knowledge. If someone didn't tell her where Wes was or how to get out of this place, she was gonna slam someone against the wall and get some answers.
Only the next someone she saw was her buddy Sam from the bar. His dark blue t-shirt and jeans didn't look like watcher wear. She expected everyone to have a uniform or at least look like Wes did in Sunnydale. Sam was not the basic fuddy-duddy watcher. As a matter of fact, he looked quite yummy. Waving to him, he froze like a deer caught in the headlights. The woman who had been talking with him scowled and strode away quickly.
"Sam, long time no see," Faith quipped as she bounced his way.
"Hello, Faith. I'm glad to see you recovered from last night."
"Yeah. You outta seen the rest of them. Wes was pukin' his guts out and Giles looked like he got run over by a truck."
Sam just smiled her way. "Faith, there is something I'd like to ask you, though. Since you're so successful at what you do. Isn't it against the rules to fraternize with your watcher?"
Faith almost choked. What the hell were they teaching the baby watchers? Hell, the only reason why Buffy was alive and kicking was because Giles gave a damn about her. They weren't machines to be used by the Council. Nothing had changed. Either Giles didn't care about what these guys were learning, or he thought that the old ways would work. Still, Giles needed a good swift kick in the ass either way.
"Get your fucking head out of the books. Controlled circumstances be damned. Go patrolling with us tonight. It might be fun."
Sam scowled at her. "Not on the agenda."
"Figures. It should be. You need to learn how to kick ass just as much as I do. Just ask Wes or Giles. They'll tell ya."
"I'm sure. Look. Nice talking to you."
Faith really needed to stop talking about Wes and Giles around the newbie. He would think that she wasn't interested in him, like she had Wes on the brain.
"And Sam?" Faith asked as he started to walk away.
"Yeah?"
"You're not my watcher," she answered.
Before she let him go, she wanted him to know that she was interested. He wasn't off limits to her, unless Giles told her so. Sliding a finger down his face, she gradually made her way down his throat, watching it hitch a little as she reached his collarbone.
"Yes, I know that, Faith," he explained calmly.
"So, what'll ya say?" she said as she trailed the finger down his arm now.
"Uh, Faith. Isn't that your watcher?"
Not now, she raged in her mind. He would be so fucking sorry once she got a hold of him. She growled low in her throat, making Sam back up slightly.
"I'm gonna kill him," she said with a fake smile on her face.
"It's just some guy just tackled him. I think it's one of those guys that was with you last night."
Faith turned to see Angel and Wesley wrestling in the corridor. Now what happened?
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All Angel wanted to do was talk with Wes. Not cause a problem. Angel had figured out how to get to the Watchers' Council via the tunnels. He scared the living daylights out of some guard as he opened a door from the basement. He really needed to talk to Giles about security. But now all he had to do was find Wes and sit him down, or hold him down if he wouldn't listen.
As Wesley barreled around the corner and straight into Angel, he decided that now was a good a time as any. Wes hadn't said much to him, other than a few words here and there since they arrived in England. They really hadn't spoken about things in a long time. That bothered Angel.
"Hey, Wes. What's up?" he winced as he asked the question.
"I'm busy," Wesley ground out, obviously not in the mood for conversation.
"I just thought, you know, that we would have time to talk. It's been quiet. Thought maybe we could sit down, have a chat."
"As I said, I am very busy. If you'll excuse me," Wesley said, brushing Angel off.
"You know, I just wanna talk. You keep avoiding me," Angel shot back.
"I'm not avoiding, Angel. I just don't have the time right this instant."
"Do I need to make an appointment?" Angel asked, obviously getting irritated.
His head still hurt from the alcohol that he had consumed the night before. He had lost count on the beer, scotch, and lastly whiskey that he had consumed. Letting his hair down did have its disadvantages.
"Maybe you should," Wesley told him, pushing past.
Angel grabbed his arm to stay his progress. "This is just gonna fester until we get it out in the open." Angel dropped his arm when he saw the look on the former watcher's face.
"Get what out into the open, Angel?" Wesley asked, putting his hands on his hips.
"Well, whatever your problem is."
"I don't have time for this," Wesley announced, turning to leave.
"Listen. I'm trying here. I wanna be friends."
"Then don't lie to me. Don't make decisions for me. Don't treat me like I'm a child."
"I never did that. I mean the child thing. Wes, this is . . . ," Angel started.
"Not working. Maybe you should go back to Los Angeles."
Angel didn't want to go anywhere until they had settled their differences. He was too important to Angel. He wanted some semblance of normalcy back in his life. Nothing like it was before though. Angel couldn't go back in time. He just wanted his friends with him.
"Not yet. Besides, you and Faith?"
"I do not need a chaperone. It is none of your business," Wesley started to raise his voice.
Angel shook his head. "This time I'm not the last to know. Something is going on."
"Nothing is going on," Wesley growled back.
"Oh, yeah. I don't think so, mister. I can smell it," Angel confessed.
Wesley's fist connected with his nose before he could hold up an arm in defense. He sure packed much more of a wallop behind those punches than before, Angel thought as he dove for Wes, taking him down to the ground.
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Sam didn't know what to think. One minute, Faith was flirting mercilessly with him. The next minute, she was talking about her watcher like he was her best friend, or her lover. It confused the hell out of him. He really did like her. He didn't know her though. Just rumors and such. He did have to admit she was hot with a capital H.
He followed her progress to the fight in the corridor, maybe to help, but probably just to stay out of the way. The two men were rolling around, throwing punches. They were acting like children, or brothers. It was kind of like he was with his younger brother. The punches were there, but not that much power behind them.
"Stop it," Faith yelled as she tried to pull the two apart.
Two others approached. Sam recognized the other woman, slight blonde woman, as the other slayer, Buffy, from the pub last night. She moved to help Faith pull them apart, getting in front of the dark-eyed guy. Faith got the other man and put her arm around his to stop him. The guy that came with Buffy stood off to the side. He didn't look like he could take any of them on. Smart guy to stay out of the fray.
"What is going on?" Buffy asked.
"Thanks for the help," Faith said to Buffy as she held her watcher. "Neutral corners."
The two men glared at each other intensely. Sam was so glad not to be in the middle of that one. The two must hate each other with a passion.
"If you two don't solve your differences, I'm gonna beat the shit outta both of ya. This has gone on long enough," Faith told them.
"Ask him why he hit me?" the big, scowly guy questioned Faith.
With that, the tall, lanky Englishman walked away without a word. He calmly strode down the corridor without looking back.
"Well, I think there might be another time to speak with Mr. Pryce," the guy that had accompanied Buffy said.
Faith followed her watcher without a backward glance at Sam. Sure, she'd flirt with him, but when her watcher was around, she only had eyes for him. Sam wasn't going to get in the middle of that for anything.
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Wesley raced down the corridor, trying to get away from what had just happened. Angel was not correct in his assessment. Wesley didn't have any kind of designs on Faith. He just wanted what was best for her.
"Will you wait up?" she called out to him.
He kept his fast pace up until coming to an empty conference room. Slowing down, he walked into the room and placed his hands on the table to steady himself. He really didn't want a confrontation with Faith also. He really was not in the mood to tangle with her.
"Looks like you got a couple of good shots in. I'm impressed."
Wesley breathed in and out to calm his nerves. He hadn't wanted to hit Angel. His fist connected because he had let his anger get the best of him.
"He must have really pissed you off. Wanna talk?"
"Why is it that everyone thinks I need to talk?"
"I dunno. Maybe it's the attitude."
Wesley turned to look at her. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned up against the table, wanting to be enlightened by her wisdom.
"Hey, my MO. Hit first, talk later. Not a good plan."
Wesley sighed in frustration. She was entirely right. He hadn't thought about the consequences. Angel thought there was something between the two. He wanted to prove him wrong. Punching him surely didn't do the job he thought it would.
"No. It wasn't."
"Do I need to pat you down for weapons? I don't want you going all postal on the next unsuspecting asshole that comes your way."
"It was my fault, entirely."
"Yeah, sure," she answered, unconvinced. "Somehow, I think no matter what, Angel will get under your skin."
Wesley hung his head down, disgusted with himself that Faith was right. Angel knew exactly how to get under his skin. And he let the vampire do that to him every time. Faith touched his chin and raised his head to look at her. When had she grown up? She was acting like the adult, not he.
"I'll apologize."
"Cool off first," Faith asked. "Whatever is going on between you two, we need you both. You need to solve this."
Faith placed her cool hand against his reddened cheek. Angel had at one point dragged it across the ground, luckily not doing much damage. Stepping closer, she placed her other small hand on his chest, making his breathing hitch just a little.
"I don't know how," he honestly told her.
"Ya gotta. I'm chargin' you guys the next time I have to play bouncer," Faith snickered.
That was when he realized that she had moved entirely too close, into his personal space as Cordy called it. It wasn't making him feel uncomfortable. But it was making his body feel a bit warmer. He wanted to set her away from him, tell her that her caring was appreciated. Her eyes darkened as she came even closer.
"Wesley," a voice called from the door.
Not now, not now, he chanted. He wasn't ready for this. And not after the position he was in with Faith. Taking Faith's hand and pulling them down, he straightened his spine for the onslaught.
"Hello, Father."
TBC
Next: I need some Spike and Fred time. Dream sequence anyone? Wesley's father? Oh, boy. That should be dramatic. And Buffy has to tell Angel and Spike about her new boyfriend sometime. Evil's afoot also.
Author notes: OK, I think that I have dug myself into a hole. Lots of characters in this fic. And I've actually created some new characters, so I need to flesh them out too. Poor Angel. All he wants to do is help, and everyone keeps pushing him away. But you know Angel. He's as stubborn as a bulldog. Hey, read The Borogoves by karabair. Now that's some good characterization of both Wes and his father. I know I won't even come close on it.
Thanks go out to futurelyfamous, Imzadi, psychotic chaos, Kick A Woman Warrior, Ruth Quist, Wendy, Doza, pari106, and everyone else. There have been lots of new readers for both fics. I think that's great. Drop me a line anytime about either fic or any others I have written.
Answers to questions:
Futurelyfamous—you like it better than the first? Wow. I'm having a harder time with the beginning of this one than I did the first. The first's ending was really hard. And Ethancryptic. I'm not telling you any more.
Imzadi—there will be major Council problems for Giles and Wes. And more pages with Lindsey.
Kick A--Angel and Wes will talk, eventually, but not yet. Angel is being the big brother right now to Faith. That will get in the way. I know about the pub thing. I just wasn't sure if I should characterize Faith calling it that. These first few chapters are turning out fluffier than I had imagined. I need to ramp it up a bit.
Ruth Quist—I hope things have gotten better for you. Glad to have you back, at least reading. I'm looking forward to your updates as soon as you can find the time. I went back and read the fic about the continuity error. I do make them. I made at least two in the last fic. I hate it when I do that. OK, so Faith gives Wes her hangover concoction, then leaves, waving goodbye to him. A few minutes later, chaos in the hallway. I really thought I had left that out too. But not this time, which surprised me. British, me? Nah. I've been reading too many fics lately, trying to get the vernacular down (probably not the best at it yet). The cadence is hard to capture. I'm a Southerner living in the West. Go figure.
Wendy—one sitting? What? I thought I was the only one crazy enough to do that. Now you see why I don't sleep very much.
Doza—I miss Illyria too!
Pari106—enough tension for ya! It just keeps coming.