Faith struggled to bring her spinning vision back to normal. Having managed to clear her face of hair so that she could at least see the group around her and having muttered what she was sure was an expletive, she now found herself unable to move. She promptly collapsed backwards onto the cold floor and stared stupidly up at the ceiling, all feeling in her body gone.

This must be a dream, her inner monologue told her, although she knew it to be a lie. Wesley never looked like that in her dreams. And she was pretty sure the black guy and the stick currently leaning over her had never appeared in them before. Somewhere in the distance, some little brat was screaming it's head off.

The view in front of her finally settled and she blinked heavily, her mind adjusting to the sudden change of location. Not moments ago she had been where her body told her she should still be. Standing in her usual spot in the yard by the fence. Peering out instead of watching the posturing inmates in their regular routine. She had been minding her own business. Better to avoid trouble in a place where fights were all too common and someone could get hurt. She'd learnt that lesson many times. They all figured she was on drugs or something and left her the hell alone. That suited her just fine.

But there were always the new chicks, out to make a name for themselves. They didn't believe her, or anyone else for that matter, when they were told that they couldn't take her on their best day. Claire never did grow that tooth back.

She could live with it that way. She'd learnt to cope with the lifestyle. The guards didn't bother her. She was the quiet one. She could get away with the occasional scuffle since she showed such detachment, the threat of physical violence barely registering with her anymore. She only ever defended herself, and even then only when it was absolutely necessary. Taking punishment sometimes had a kind of cleansing quality to it. But she was no one's punching bag. She didn't have the time or the inclination to tango with a bunch of low life thieves. Angel had it right. It took a lot of thought, and damn, did she have stuff to think about.

"What the fuck is going on?" she eventually managed to slur out, already suspecting that Angel had something to do with whatever it was that was happening to her. She was doing just fine in jail, thank you very much; she was happy there. Well, maybe happy wasn't exactly the word, or even content. Adequate? Sufficient?

Angel finally made an appearance, adding to the little circle of heads that was framing her view. He was holding a wriggling bundle to his body like his unlife depended on it, seemingly oblivious to the god awful noise it was making. He stared down at her like she had the word 'freak' tattooed across her forehead. She managed a frown.

"Faith, is that you?" he asked her, and she wanted to hit him.

"Maybe you didn't hear me right the first time. I'll try again. What the FUCK just happened!"

"Hey, calm down, it's okay," the stick assured her, giving her a gentle smile and a pat on the shoulder. She then turned to Angel and whispered in his ear. "Who is she?"

"Hey yourself," Faith growled. "Don't be talking about me like I'm not here. I can hear you, you know."

The stick blushed apologetically and backed off, much to Faith's pleasure.

Faith had never appreciated being coddled, and if she didn't get a straight answer soon, she was going to go off on one. Her muscles may have frozen, but her slayer senses were on edge. Add to that the tension in the room and the impending confrontation that she was really not ready for…

There was only one way she knew to alleviate stress, and all the counselling in the world could only teach her to cover her nervousness for so long. She fell into old habits, building a little wall around herself and snapping at hands until people quit poking her.

Some vestige of strength seeped back to her limbs and she propped herself up with her arms, scowling at the helpful hands that reached down to aid her. She looked around once more to be certain of exactly who she was dealing with to find that the company hadn't changed.

Next to her, Wesley attempted to sit up also, clearly suffering the same effects as her. Slayer healing was obviously allowing her a faster recovery.

"This makes no sense," the black guy announced, breaking the awed mood. "Wasn't the spell supposed to be protective?"

"No," Angel breathed rather dazedly. "It makes perfect sense."

The black guy waited for an explanation that didn't come and began to look even more agitated. Faith remained silent, trying to fit the pieces together for herself.

"Are you okay, Wesley?" the stick asked, moving to his side to help him up. If Faith interpreted his expression correctly, he endured her attention rather than welcomed it until he was able to remain upright. He cast an uneasy look at the black guy but refused to answer the unspoken questions in his eyes. The stick caught on.

"Charles, he didn't do this, okay?"

'Charles' huffed and turned away, unconvinced. He stalked off across the room and began to pace, keeping his opinions to himself. Angel continued to stare as he bounced the kid in his arms, unaware of the exchange and continuing as if he hadn't stopped at all.

"Who better to protect a child from a vampire than a slayer and her watcher?" he asked rhetorically.

"I am not her watcher," Wesley replied insistently, and Faith couldn't help but wince slightly at the coldness of his tone. Speaking for the first time, she couldn't be sure if the hostility was in fact directed at her or Angel, but she was fairly certain that it was at least a little bit of both. He didn't argue with the logic, however, and Faith focused instead on deciphering the meaning of Angel's words.

"Wait a second," the stick interrupted. "What are you talking about? You guys know her?"

Faith felt her cheeks burn at the prospect of having any of the most unsavoury aspects of her life story revealed to a complete stranger, and an annoying one at that. Before she could open her mouth to protest, Angel began an automatic summary of slayer lore, thankfully omitting some of the more personal details regarding his dealings with them. Faith wondered if the strangers knew about Buffy. He concluded with an explanation as to why two slayers currently existed, and left it at that. The stick did not look entirely enlightened.

She shrugged and accepted the story, offering her hand out to her new acquaintance. "Hi Faith, I'm Fred. Nice to meet you."

Faith regarded the appendage cynically and ignored the gesture. "Yeah, whatever. Why can't I move my legs?"

She followed Angel's lead and looked to Wesley for a theory, surprised to find him not his usual talkative self. Faith would have expected a long winded lecture about stuff she couldn't understand. There was a time when you couldn't shut the man up once you got him started on a subject, but not now. He just glowered back at them both, flicking his eyes to his own legs to indicate his similar situation. She didn't show it, but Faith actually started to feel worried. Things were not right around here.

The kid began to tire of it's wailing and fell into hiccupping sobs. That finally got Angel's attention and he turned his face towards it, shushing and stroking it's head.

"Who's the kid?" Faith inquired, jerking her chin in Angel's direction. She had never been particularly fond of children, and she eyed it warily.

"This is Connor," Angel practically beamed, smiling with pride. He made faces at the child and told him what a good boy he was in a baby voice. Faith had a bad feeling about this.

"That's Angel's son," Charles filled in for him as Angel lost interest in the conversation. Faith had to take a second to breathe.

"You're shittin' me."

Angel looked up at that point. "Darla, not Buffy," he supplied, as if that made it all alright.

"You say that like it's a better option," she told him, still digesting the facts. "How… I mean, it's impossible, right?"

"That's what we thought," Angel said, smiling at his miracle child with that dreamy quality again.

The whole thing sounded decidedly too weird for Faith, so she didn't ask for the specifics. She inwardly thanked her luck when her legs began to respond, feeling relief with the realisation that she could soon make her escape. She flexed them to test her range of movement and stretched the muscles, ready to attempt getting up. Her balance apparently hadn't caught up quite so fast and she fell flat on her ass as soon as she moved. It did not improve her mood.

She tried again with more determination and achieved a wobbly stance. Fred looked eager to support her to prevent her from falling, but wisely kept her distance. Faith took some cautious steps and leant against the counter for a moment. Confident that she could make it further, she straightened and addressed the group.

"Right. Well, the little get together was great an' all, but I think I'll be getting back now before I'm missed. We should do it again some time, though."

Angel moved towards her before she could start for the doors. "Whoa, wait a minute. Where are you going? You can't leave."

"And why not? I got here, didn't I? I can go back."

Angel reached for her arm to hold her in place, the kid still tucked against his body. "The spell brought you here for a reason. You have to stay." He paused and lowered his voice. "I need you here."

Angel's hand clutched at her a little more desperately and he glanced down at his son. He was pleading with her, she realised. Faith felt her anger building.

"I don't care what you have planned. It doesn't have anything to do with me. You can't keep me here."

"You're right," Angel agreed, "but you can't go back. How will you explain it to them?"

Faith looked around at the others for a way out but found no inspiration for an answer. They were waiting for her response. She felt trapped and she didn't like it. Angel had ruined everything. Before she could stop herself, she had put as much strength as she could muster behind her fist and smacked him in the shoulder, breathing heavily and glaring as he staggered backwards from her.

"What have you done!" she hissed, struggling to contain her panic. "I didn't ask for this, I've spent months in there and I was doing just fine. All the time I could have got out whenever I wanted, but I didn't. Now they'll be looking for me! What am I supposed to do?"

"There's no reason to think that they'll come looking here if they think you've escaped," Angel told her calmly, approaching her once again. "You don't need that place to hold you, Faith. You can find control on your own, I know it. You're wasted in there. You could be doing so much more good."

"Don't try to pretend that this isn't all about you, Angel," Faith warned him, lulled by his sentiments nonetheless. Despite herself, she'd known for a long time that her duty could not be avoided. She sometimes resented her calling, she'd never asked for any of it, and she'd fully renounced the Council. But her powers had remained whilst she was out of service. She couldn't deny that there were forces at work here that were greater than herself. It didn't mean she had to like it.

"Please, Faith," Angel implored again. "Say you'll stay."

She felt confused, and try as she might, she couldn't wipe the devastated look off her face. Her mind still felt fuzzy round the edges and she needed some space to think. Her world had been tipped upside down by Angel's interference and her initial indignation was clouding her judgement.

"Get out of my way," she whispered rather sulkily as she pushed Angel aside. She made it across the lobby without appearing too ungraceful and no one tried to stop her. The hotel door swung shut behind her as she slipped out into the street.

……………………

"Okay, somebody want to tell me exactly what just happened there? 'Cause I have no idea what's going on."

Gunn watched the raven haired woman storm from the hotel with all the purpose of an angry teenager with no clue what to do next. He was pretty sure the girl didn't know where she was or where she was going, but the expectant pause that followed revealed that no one was keen to go after her.

Angel sighed dramatically and wandered over to the cot, setting the fussing Connor down. He leaned back against the wall and watched his son blankly as he thought about how best to answer the question.

"Where exactly has she been?" Fred asked. "Why would she want to go back to a place she needed help to escape from?"

"Faith has been in jail, Fred," Angel supplied, stroking his chin with his thumb in a reflective gesture.

"Oh," was all she could think of to say to that. She went back to staring at the lobby doors with an increasingly puzzled expression.

"And you're happy with that?" Gunn interjected, "You actually want a convicted criminal here, at this hotel, to protect your son? What exactly did she do anyway?"

Angel looked up ad Gunn approached him, hearing the disapproval in his voice. He wouldn't lie to the man, he deserved more than that. It was just that he knew the reaction he was going to get. He looked at Wesley briefly before replying and got an accusatory frown. He looked away. Wes clearly wanted him to tell the awful truth, if only to reveal the disastrous stupidity of his plan.

"She killed a man…"

Fred and Gunn gasped simultaneously.

"…and she tortured Wesley."

Fred looked at Wesley with horror in her eyes, but he refused to meet her stare. Gunn shook his head incredulously and actually smiled. It was clear to Angel, however, that it was not meant to be humorous.

"Actually, you know what?" he said jauntily, "She sounds like the perfect candidate. Hell, we should let her baby-sit the entire neighbourhood's kids."

The smile dropped from his face as he looked Angel in the eye, too angry to be reasoned with. But Angel would try anyway.

"People can change," Angel told him, daring him to contradict. "I trust her and that's all that matters. If she was brought here to guard Connor, she must be able to do it."

He chose at that point not to mention Wesley, though he could sense the man was bristling. He didn't need to look his way to know that he was fighting to keep himself from saying something he'd regret. Angel had to admit he was wary and unsure at the moment when it came talking to the guy. He seemed to be purposefully avoiding conversation, as though he was in danger of being finally pushed over the edge. God knows an angry tirade from him was long overdue. So Angel was treading lightly, on alert against the slightest provocation that might set him off.

"Well, she's gone," Fred sighed, stating the obvious. "I don't mean to sound pessimistic or anything, but I don't think she was too taken by the idea. If that were me, I'd be outta here too like a…like a rabbit out of a hole. And I wouldn't come back."

Angel and Gunn stared.

"Well I wouldn't! But then that's just me, I mean, she's probably way different to me, so, nothing to worry about, right? She'll come right back here to watch over the kid that… she's never heard of, whose father she… just assaulted, to a hotel she doesn't know the location of, to stand side by side with the man she hated enough to…"

Fred wound down to mumbling under her breath and began a guilty perusal of her shoes. She shrugged to herself as if coming to a conclusion and looked up at Angel with an anguished frown.

"I guess somebody'd better talk to her then, huh?"

"Thanks Fred, I get it," Angel groaned.

"Hey man, it needed sayin'," Gunn said.

Angel paced back over to the cot to run his hand lightly over Connor's chest, hoping that Gunn would remember exactly why he was doing all of this. "I'll go look for her as soon as the sun goes down."

"No," Wesley said from where he had pulled himself up onto the couch by the sheer strength of his will not much earlier. He noticed the others look at him suddenly then, as though they had forgotten that he was in the room at all. Or maybe they were just surprised to hear him contribute to the debate after his previous reluctance to communicate. He almost wanted to smile. Almost.

"I'll do it," he said.