Author note: Wow, lots of reviews and comments. This was just going to be a small fic. Now it's turned into something bigger than I could even imagine. I'm having fun writing this. Just so everyone knows (if you haven't already guessed), I love mushy schmoop. And action. So read and enjoy! This chapter is rated R, or M by the new system. Thanks!

Chapter Nine – Research and Development

"What do you think you're doing?" Angel asked her.

"What does it look like?" Faith answered, not all sure why Angel was in her dream.

"You're screwing Judas. I thought you'd know better."

Angel stood in front of her, arms crossed over his chest, a look of disgust on his face.

"Two sides, Angel. Two sides. I thought you'd have learned that by now."

She mirrored Angel's gesture just to piss him off.

"He stole my son."

"You were gonna kill him."

"Fucking bastard. He knew I could never kill my own son."

"Yeah, not like you didn't massacre people for a couple of centuries."

Angel glared down at her. He wasn't pleased with her taking Wesley's side. Well, he'd just have to deal.

"That's different. I didn't have …," he started.

"A fucking soul. Yeah, tell it to someone else. I have one and look what happened to me. You tried to kill him."

"He deserved it."

"Fuck you, Angel. You gave me a second, no third chance. He made a mistake trying to save not only you but your precious son."

"Did I ask you for your opinion?"

Faith released her arms from around her body, swinging them by her sides now. Angel looked like he was ready to throw down with her. His body posture was screaming it at her. She wanted to be ready. Only as he looked at her, his skin started to look kind of funny. Holes started to appear, he actually became paler, his lips cracked from lack of blood.

"What's happening to you?" she asked as she backed away slightly.

"This is what happened. Wes left, and I got sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Didn't feed for months. Things happen to the brain when it's not fed."

Angel then smiled a little at her. He turned his head like he was listening to someone else, probably in his head.

"Kind of makes you a little crazy."

Faith knew what it meant to be crazy, so out of your mind that you didn't know where to turn. But Angel had brought her out of that state of mind. Wesley's torture had been that last straw, that lowest of the low.

"Why are you in my dream?" she asked.

"From beneath you, it devours."

Faith shot up from under the covers. It was cold beside her. Taking deep breaths, she looked around. Wesley was sitting at the table, head down, book open, tea cup beside his arm. He must have gotten up when he could see to read. A weak light shone through the windows.

"Wes," she whispered, not wanting to jolt him out of his rest.

Looking down, she noticed her lack of clothing. Wrapping the blanket all the way around, she tiptoed over to where Wes was resting. Gently, she rubbed her hand through his hair, hoping that he would come awake slowly. Only he didn't. His hand shot out and grabbed hers in a vice-like grip before she had a chance to move away.

"Wes? Just me," she pointed out as he squeezed her wrist.

"Faith? I must have fallen asleep."

She watched as he rubbed his face to clear the cobwebs. The crease on the side of his face from the table was kind of humorous. His glasses sat askew on his face. As she looked down, she noticed the page he had been looking at before falling asleep. Something about the drawing seemed familiar. The curve of the knife looked like one she saw in one of her dreams.

"Any progress?" she asked as straightened his glasses and took a sip of his now cold tea.

He grimaced into the cup and arose to dump the contents in the sink. "I'm not sure. You said something about a ceremonial knife."

"Um, maybe. I can't remember. You saw some of the same things."

Wesley poured water into the tea kettle to boil. "Maybe. We should start our research in earnest."

Should she tell him about the dream she had? Angel as her messenger kind of freaked her out. But if she didn't tell him now, he would be upset with her later if there was the hint of a clue about the red-robed guys.

"By the way, that knife does look familiar."

"I thought so also," he concurred with her.

"Who does it belong to?" she asked as he handed her a cup.

The tea kettle began to whistle eagerly finally. Faith would take the caffeine any way she could get it. It didn't matter how bad it tasted. She'd just have to drink a lot more of it to get that pleasant buzz she liked.

"Not sure exactly. I don't have the cross-reference that I would normally . . . ," he started, waving his hand right after he stopped.

"Yeah. We'll just have to work with what we got. At least it's light. How's the ribs?"

He looked at her in amazement at her question. "Better, thank you. Still a little sore."

Which probably meant they still hurt like a bitch, she thought. The man could obviously take a lot of pain and not show it.

"You'll need some clothes," he stated matter of factly.

She just wanted to punch him. He was pushing her away swiftly. Like he finally saw the light and decided that she just wasn't good enough. So she decided to piss him off just to see what he would do. She dropped the blanket on the floor and headed off toward the bathroom, swaying her ass as she did. Hearing a chuckle, she quietly pushed the door closed. So the man had a sense of humor. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

After taking a quick shower, she wrapped herself in a towel and headed back to the front room, hoping she could bum some more clothes from Wes. Only he had thought of it first and had piled some right outside the door for her to trip over. Growling over her clumsiness, she slipped the clothes on, breathing in Wes' scent. She decided that she liked how he smelled. Sniffing, she slowly peeked around the corner to see Wes cooking. Bacon, eggs, lots of good stuff. She'd keep him just for his cooking skills alone.

"Grub," she said with enthusiasm.

"I seemed to have worked up an appetite," he deadpanned.

"I only work up a good one after a good screw or a good slay," she added.

He stopped the bite of bacon he was going to put in his mouth and gaped at her. Slowly, he crunched down on the piece, but still stared right into her eyes. She dug into her plate with gusto, finishing in record time. Patting her belly, she grinned up at him as he finished up his portion.

"That being said, I have found several volumes I thought we could go over this morning."

Oh yay, she thought. Research. There was a reason she was never around in Sunnydale when the books were cracked open. She could read alright, but it just gave her a headache. Of course, if they didn't find out who those red-robed figures were, then the two of them would have more than just a headache between them.

"Just make sure they're in English."

"I thought it would be more useful for you to flip through the drawings. See if there's anything that might jog your memory."

He saved her. She really didn't want to read some boring book. Pictures she could deal with. Clearing away the dishes, he handed her a huge volume with some demon's picture on the front.

"Start with this one. Anything, anything that might be relevant, we will look into it."

"Got it."

The drawings were gruesome. She wondered how Wes didn't have nightmares all the time looking at stuff like this. She certainly did, having seen some of these things in person.

"I had another dream last night."

Wes looked up from his book with a jolt. "Yes," was all he said, waiting for her to spill.

"It was kinda harsh, you know."

"Blood, gore and such?"

"Nah. It was, uh, kind of hard to deal with. You see, Angel decided to guest star in it. It was weird."

He sat up straighter, eyebrow shooting up at her confession of Angel.

"How so?"

"He decided that he didn't like me taking sides. Not like I'm taking sides, mind you. I'm just seein' things a little objectively. You did something, he did something. People need to forgive. I know all about that."

"Faith, what did he say?" Wes asked in a quiet voice.

"He didn't understand why I'd believe you. Man, he just didn't give you a chance. I know, you took his son. It wasn't like you were gonna give him to that freak Holtz. You were gonna keep the baby safe."

"Yes, I was. Because if Angel had harmed Connor," he looked off into the distance.

"It would have been game over. Staking him would have been humane."

Faith looked down at her hands, trying not to see his expression. He looked so hurt right then, but she felt like she was intruding on something. She just wished she understood Angel and Wes' relationship much better.

"Then he turned all kinds of funny looking. Like he hadn't eaten in forever. Kind of gross. His skin was all melting away. He told me that he got sunk to the bottom of the ocean."

"What?" Wes cried out.

Faith lifted her head. "That's what he said. Said his brain was messed up."

Wes got up from his seat and started to pace. "When a vampire doesn't feed for long periods of time, the brain starts to deteriorate. He could be kept alive indefinitely. But he would lose his mind."

"Not your fault."

"I left."

"A death threat from a vampire like Angel? Didn't have a choice. He would have snapped your neck."

Wes leaned up against the counter, back to her. Like he was trying to gather his composure. Like he didn't want her to see the emotions playing over his face.

"One more thing? He said something really creepy before I woke up. Something like from beneath you, it eats or devours or something like that."

Wes immediately went for a book on the shelf, pulling it down in his haste. He wasn't even careful with it. So this must be serious, she thought. A clue?

Flipping through furiously, he finally stopped on a page, finger skimming down until it stopped. His mouth moved silently, like he was reading in his head. Faith looked at the book, but it was all gibberish to her. Probably in some language she never heard of.

"That's it," he sighed.

"You figure it out?"

That big brain of his came through. Maybe she didn't want to know what it was when she saw the scowl on his face.

"I need to cross-reference this with one other source," he muttered as he went for the shelf again.

"Just tell me. You know. You know exactly what's coming, don't you?"

"Yes. I do," he answered back.

"I'm a big girl."

"We should figure out a way to contact Giles, just in case."

"Let me tell you, if I'm havin' these weird dreams, then Buffy is probably going through the same thing."

"Yes, you're probably right," he said as he brought back another big book from the shelf.

He turned until he showed her a drawing of the red-robed guys. With their eyes sown over, they really did look like the ones in her dreams.

"So?"

"Harbingers. Minions of evil."

"That's a given. What are we facing?"

"Evil. Pure and simple. The First Evil. Older than all evil combined. Trying to come through the Hellmouth, is my guess."

OK, she thought. She'd faced evil before. Kakistos wasn't exactly chopped liver. He was old and all scary and evil. This couldn't be that bad.

"This is one of those apocalypse types of things, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is."

Figures, she concluded. Damn slayer dreams. His hand was directly next to hers. She could feel the heat coming from it. His fingers were long and strong. She really just wanted to grab it and run. They could hide out until Buffy figured out how to handle it. She always had before. Why not now?

Wes sat down at the table, pulling his chair nearer to hers. She wondered why she hadn't gotten up to pace, but Wes had done enough of that for the both of them. His hand reached out to brush across her cheek, eliciting an exhalation of breath from her.

"We should go to Sunnydale," he finally said to her.

"Oh, no," she retorted, rising from her chair, scraping it back. "Buffy'll kill me on sight. You know that."

"You have changed."

"What? Just because you've fucked me, you think that I've changed?"

Wesley's jaw clenched at her statement. She could almost hear him grinding his teeth together.

"That has nothing to do with my observations. Surely I can form my own conclusions about you."

"Most guys lead with their dicks. How about you?"

He wasn't pleased with her at all. Slowly he got up from his chair to stand directly in front of her. Taking her arms in his large hands, he shook her a little, just enough to tell her that maybe she had come to the wrong conclusion. Then he did what she had wanted him to do for the last hour. Pulling her hard against his chest, he proceeded to devour her mouth with his. He didn't let her up for some time, just feasted on her until she pushed away slightly to take a breath.

"OK, so your mouth's leadin'. You know what I mean."

He scowled down at her. "Do you think for one moment that I would do that if you hadn't changed?"

He made a good point, she thought. She definitely wouldn't have let Wussy Wesley touch her or kiss her that way. He probably would have keeled over with a heart attack.

Wesley started to pack his bags, sure that he probably would never come back to the cabin ever again. Something told him that whatever they were about to face would be horrendous. But if they survived, if he survived, he certainly would like to come back to the cabin. It at least held pleasant memories. He heard the mew of the kitten on the floor. Looking down, he noticed that the kitten had piddled on the floor and was now upset. He would also have to figure out what to do with the creature. It really was quite a handsome cat. Stroking its fur, he dutifully cleaned up the mess, then continued shoving clothes into another bag.

Then he went through the inventory of his books in his mind. Many of the ones he had, Giles was sure to have. But there were a few that he wouldn't. The weapons that he possessed they certainly could use. Food would be essential also. He didn't want to rely on Buffy or any of the Sunnydale contingent for supplies. Who knew what kinds of conditions they were stepping into?

He heard her before she came into the room. She was learning that sneaking up on him wasn't such a great idea. Standing beside him, she looked down at the clothes in the bag.

"We should pick up my stuff. Not that I don't like your stuff, but it's a little big," she told him.

He looked over at her and noticed the rolled up sleeves. The shirt almost came down to her knees. She looked quite adorable and just a little more than sexy in his clothing. What he wouldn't do right then to rip it off and touch her.

"So we leavin' now?"

"Possibly tomorrow. It's past noon. I say we dig out the SUV and pack. Tomorrow at first light, we leave."

"Not gonna change your mind?"

"No," he whispered to her.

"I'm in. Besides, maybe you can be that watcher that I needed."

"No. That won't due," he grumbled.

Her mouth drew up into a little pout. "That's what you are."

"That's what I was. It doesn't mean I will not help you. But I want us to be equals."

Faith threw her arms up. "OK. So no titles. How about asshole? Think that one fits?"

He chuckled a little. "Just as long as I can call you a bitch at any given opportunity."

"Fuck, you have loosened up. No more stick up your ass."

He swallowed hard at her pronouncement. He had heard that phrase more often than he had liked. No, he wasn't the stuffy, self-absorbed Watcher any more. Then she brought her hand down on his backside for a light tap. He had been in a perpetual state of arousal since he had first seen her. Having her this close didn't change that fact. Now that he'd had her, that made him all that more excited.

He never would have been this rough with any other woman. Neither Cordelia, nor Virginia, or Fred would have liked to be thrown down on the bed. But Faith giggled like a schoolgirl as he did. Slowly, he sank down into her softness, hearing her breathe a sigh of relief as he did so. They were all so fragile compared to Faith. She had already figured out what he liked. A quick study indeed.

"Very loosened up," she groaned as he latched onto her neck, sucking hard.

"Cold?" he asked as he started to unbutton the shirt.

He really didn't want to lose another shirt to her. The buttons would stay intact on this one.

"Warm, hot. You're like a furnace."

Kissing down her body, he discovered that she was excited as he was. But this moment was for her only. He wanted to show her he did care about her. He was glad he was able to see all of her in the dim light of the bedroom. She was so beautiful as she abandoned herself like this, to him only. Slowly coming down from her pleasure, she smiled up at him as he kissed her softly.

"As I've told you, mad skills."

Then it dinged in his head that he had forgotten that all the protection that they had was in the other room.

"Be back," he whispered in her ear, biting it gently.

"Need you," he thought he heard her say as he literally ran out of the room.

Bending down near the fireplace, he found the prize he was looking for. But instead of heading back to the bedroom and a willing Faith, he saw what he dreaded right outside the cabin. The wards were in place. That didn't mean they couldn't get in. He could feel the creatures starting to push against them. The Harbingers were strong. It would take both he and Faith if they were going to survive.

He certainly didn't want to yell for Faith for they surely would hear his call. Before he could make his way back to her, she appeared from the hallway.

"Did you just call me?"

Pointing with his eyes, he showed her what they were up against.

"Oh, fuck," she said as she buttoned her shirt in a hurry.

"The wards are up."

"They gonna hold?" she asked as she grabbed her shoes.

"Not forever. I can for a while though."

"They know we're here?"

"They obviously detect something. But they cannot see us, yet. Something's drawing them here."

Faith pulled on one of his sweaters that she found draped over the couch. "It's gotta be me. You're just a human. Me, slayer you know."

She had said it before he could voice his opinion. That wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he had considered it.

"Possibly. We have a little time to plan."

Wesley pulled his weapons chest out, handing her weapons of all sorts. Faith admired several of them, putting knives in her boots, loading a couple of crossbows in the process.

"How many?"

He had figured that there were maybe six. Six against two. Granted Faith could be counted to be a formidable foe. But she was out of practice. No training for quite some time. Instead of getting her ready, he was screwing her brains out.

"Six, maybe a few more."

"Piece of cake. Think your guns will take out any of them?"

"I certainly hope so."

Wesley loaded his two pistols and his shotgun, throwing shells and ammunition in his pockets. Then he strapped on a knife to his ankle. He would have to strap the crossbow on somehow too.

"They won't know what hit them," Faith grinned.

"Take them out as quietly as we can. Surprise enough of them, by the time they regroup, we'll have taken out enough for a fair fight."

"Unless there's an army out there. Then we're screwed."

"Literally," he answered in turn.

"Sorry about the bedroom thing. When we get out of this, you are so gonna get some."

Wesley laughed in spite of the dire situation. "I would expect no less from you."

"After slayage activities don't suck."

"We'll see about that," he threw back, watching her eyes widen in surprise.

"Dude, you just did not make a joke?"

Wesley cocked his shotgun and nodded to her. "Ready?"

"Ready to kick some ass. God, I love a man with a big gun."

TBC