Chapter 6
Fred was asleep when he got home, so he snuck in to check on Allie. She was asleep. She was perfect, he thought. In that moment, he knew everything he had done had been worth it. He wouldn't have changed anything, even if he could.
Fred's arms encircled his waste. He smiled and held her hands for a moment before turning to face her. She was bleary eyed. Her chest was swollen with milk, and her slight frame was only a few pounds heavier than it had been before Allie's birth. Fred swore the extra pounds were all in her breasts.
They walked out of Allie's room and into their bedroom. Wes undressed and Fred lay back down, knowing Allie would be up in a few hours. She didn't begrudge Wes a night out; he hadn't gone out in a long time. She had been mad initially, especially when he didn't call, but she figured one night without responsibilities would do him good. He smelled like a bar, and it was late, she just wanted to fall asleep in his arms. He made her wait a little longer though, as he went to take a shower.
When he did finally lie down and hold her against him, she sensed something was wrong. She could read him like a book, even when she wasn't looking at him. She was too tired to deal with it right then, though. She fell asleep, vowing to question him in the morning.
Will was washing the blood from his hands. It had been a very long time since he had to do that. The sun had already come up over the horizon. It had taken him all night to track down the witches Wes had used. It hadn't taken long for them to tell him what he wanted to know. From there, it had been a long drive north and a long morning torturing the man that wanted to blackmail his friend.
The man hadn't taken long to talk. He was powerful, that was for sure. But few people turned away a man that had been in a car accident. That was story Will gave him. Will looked the part, too. He shirt was torn, his head was bleeding, he was holding his side as if it was bruised.
After he had been invited it, one look at the place told him he had the right man. He had wasted no time in knocking him unconscious. He tied his hands, harder to cast a spell that way, and then Will did a little casting of his own. It was a simple power binding spell, but it was easy to do on someone that was unconscious, they couldn't it fight it while it was cast. Once it was in full force, Will woke him up. Not pleasantly.
He hated to think of how he used the techniques he then employed. He shut that out. The man didn't want to talk at first. It only took Will ten minutes to get him to change his mind. Not for a moment did Will think this man was the mastermind of the plan. This man was a flunky. He wrote the note, delivered it. He did not think up the plan. Nor was he willing to say who had.
That changed an hour later. Will showered in the man's bathroom and threw his clothes in the garbage. He sat in his car, in clean clothes, a wig and dark glasses and watched the garbage get thrown in a huge truck and hauled away. He would never have thrown the clothes out had it not been garbage day. They would have come with him. This was better, though.
The self inflicted head wound was healing. He had a cover story for that, but it was Saturday. By Monday, it would be healed. He was going to disappear for the weekend, fix the mess Wesley had started. He couldn't believe the man had been this stupid.
He understood his motives. He sympathized. But it should have been handled much better, and he shouldn't have done it alone. Will would have helped him from the beginning; even of he didn't fully believe in what Wes was doing.
The way it was, now, though, Will's hand was forced. He had to go to the source and eliminate them. They had been enemies of Wolfram and Hart since Angel had taken over. They thought they could eliminate Wesley, hut Angel and the company in the process. They hadn't counted on Will.
Few people knew William Benson and Spike were one and the same. It made his job easier. He was thought of as an executive, Angel's second in command. That meant he was respected and dismissed all at the same time. They didn't know he was two hundred years old or that he had killed two slayers and hundreds others. No one knew his capabilities. That meant he could operate under the radar. When he attacked, no one would see it coming.
Even fewer people knew he had super powers. There were some in the demon community that knew he was formerly known as Spike. Only his friends and a hand full of doctors knew he was a hybrid. Angel's talents were well known, but William Benson was thought of on the same level as Wesley Wyndram-Pryce or Charles Gunn; a human with powerful resources to back him up. That made him smile inside.
These fucks will never see me coming, he thought.