Part Three - Chapter Twelve
Part Three
Chapter Twelve
Faith slowly dragged herself out of a deep sleep, her aching limbs stirring her from her slumber. Her hand lazily swept across the bedspread searching for Wesley’s, her eyes only opening when she failed to find the familiar touch of his warm skin.
She slowly eased herself onto her side, and scanned the room, which was only lit by the small lamp on the bedside table. The room was empty, but she could hear voices. For a brief moment, Faith thought that the voices might have been coming from her head. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d heard a voice or two. But after pausing a moment, Faith realized that the voices was muffled tones from downstairs.
Guessing that Angel was back, and hoping that he had at least one answer to the crazy list of questions swimming through her mind, Faith slowly eased herself up and out of bed. Her feet could barely support her weight as she stumbled, using pieces of furniture as support, through the bedroom and out onto the landing.
Out there Faith could make out the voices. The first voice she heard was Wesley’s, and then Angel’s… she tried to listen, to focus in on the words that they spoke. But her head was spinning. She leant on the banister as she slowly walked down the stairs, taking one step at a time. It wasn’t long before the party downstairs heard her heavy, cumbersome footsteps. Faith leant over the banister, managing a small smile.
“There was me thinking I was part of the team. You’d think the whole ‘nearly dying for the cause’ thing would give me a free pass to all meetings…” Faith smirked as she slowly eased herself down the last couple of steps, holding on to the banister for support.
“So, what did I miss?”
Wesley managed a smile as he walked over to the staircase and helped Faith the rest of the way, lending his arm for support. Despite the heady topic that he, Angel and Sarah had been discussing in Faith’s absence, he couldn’t help but light up when she appeared. She was obviously still weak, but she had recovered enough to come out of her room, and for this he was happy. With her slayer healing, she would probably be as good as new come tomorrow. Maybe even sooner.
When Angel had returned an hour ago with Sarah, Wesley had considered waking Faith, but she had looked so peaceful that he didn’t have the heart. He had spent a long time just laying there next to her, watching her sleep, listening to the soft steady sound of her breathing, and holding her hand. She had survived against all odds. The blood loss would have killed most, even for a slayer. But she was so strong, his Faith.
“You needed rest,” he said tenderly, brushing aside a stubbornly wayward lock of brunette hair for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Of course we will fill you in on everything. Come…join us.” Wes wanted Faith to know that she was very much part of the team now. In fact, her just being there was what suddenly made them a team again. Before she had arrived it had just been Wes and Angel…spending most nights brooding in separate corners of the vast hotel…working on menial cases to pass the days.
She was a slayer, and that meant taking charge. Wesley didn’t have a problem with that. In fact, he loved that about her. He remembered the time when she had helped them capture Angelus…how she had taken on the role of a leader so effortlessly. He’d been so proud of her-to see her so changed. She was no longer the troubled girl she had once been, but a confident young woman…a true slayer.
Faith took Wesley’s arm as he helped her down the final steps. Her legs still felt uneasy and she wasn’t sure if they’d hold her weight without a little help. She felt Angel’s worried eyes on her, his brow burrowed in concern over the broken slayer. She looked up at him, her face covered in forced confidence in order to ease the vampire‘s mind.
“Don’t worry boss, I’ll be back to payin’ my way in no time.” Her face broke into a luminous smile as she looked up towards Wesley. Her hand gently tapped his chest, while her eyes never left his.
“Thanks to Watcher Boy here.”
†
Once they were settled into Wesley’s office, the Englishman turned his gaze once more to Sarah, who was sipping hot tea and huddled into a chair with her legs beneath her. She had initially wanted to go home after her ordeal, to see her mother at once, but Angel had convinced her to come to the hotel first. They needed to know everything that she had heard from the demons that had held her captive.
Faith eased herself into the armchair across from Wesley’s desk, her hold on his arm only relinquishing once she was seated. She gave him a quick look of thanks before turning to the frightened girl huddled in the leather armchair.
“Sarah, right?” Faith tried her best to give the girl a reassuring smile, but comforting the young wasn’t exactly one of the brunette slayer’s specialties. Faith indeed remembered the girl as the one from her dream-a dream that seemed like it had occurred a lifetime ago. Faith had only dreamt of the girl’s capture; hell knows what those demons had put her through since then. The girl looked over to Faith, her fingers interlinked as they surrounded a cup of what looked like tea. “Trust Wes to inflict his British drinks on others.” Faith mused. Sarah managed a small smile of recognition to the fellow slayer, before turning back to Wesley.
“Sarah,” Wesley said gently, not wanting to upset the girl any further than she obviously already was. “Do you think you could tell us again what you heard? I’d like for Faith to be caught up on everything we’ve been discussing.”
Angel paced the room as Wesley spoke. He wasn’t naïve. He knew that what they were dealing with was big…apocalypse-sized in fact. Sarah looked questioningly toward the restless handsome vampire, taking another sip before setting her cup down on the edge of the desk.
“Well…I…I only heard bits and pieces. But the clan…they kept talking about the Old Slayer bloodline, and how they needed one of the ‘old order’ to fulfill their sacrifice. They never really wanted me. I was backup…in case…” Sarah took a deep breath. She was clearly still in shock from the ordeal she had been through. “In case they couldn’t get her, they were going to kill me. They said that she didn’t necessarily have to die. They just needed enough blood so that…” Sarah paused. “I couldn’t hear them that well…but I know that they kept saying ‘He will arise,’ and a bunch of other stuff about it being the end of this world as we know it.”
The watcher stepped in here. “The Triuvna have the power to change events…to rewrite the future according to their preferred design,” Wesley explained, getting up to retrieve the book he had been leafing through the first time Sarah had told them her story a half hour or so ago. “But this power comes with a price. Every five hundred years or so, they need to offer a sacrifice. To whom, we can only surmise at this point,” he sighed. “Unfortunately, every bit of information that I have been able to glean about the clan is shrouded in vague demon verse. Almost like a sort of riddle or poetic device.”
“What I have been able to decipher from this text, however, is that this particular sacrifice would mark a significant coming of events-”
“It’s the end of the world,” Angel interrupted, leaning glumly against the wall.
“Well…yes,” Wesley sighed, sitting down once again next to Faith.
†
Faith sat and listened, her eyes darting between the newbie slayer, Angel and Wesley as the story unraveled. These last few days had been so hard, what with Murray and then last night at the theatre, but now as Faith listened she realized that the hell that had been the last week was just the tip of the iceberg, and that this clan wasn’t even close to waving that little white flag.
As Wesley took over from Sarah, the hole they were in just seemed to get deeper and deeper. It looked like once again, Faith had been used to help the other side; at least this time it hadn’t been out of choice. Her getting captured had enabled the clan to get their sacrifice, and now they were gonna unleash hell on Earth? Normally Faith wouldn’t be too spooked by this. She and Buffy had battled through a bunch of apocalypses together, saved the world time and time again, so what was one more to add to the list? But it was the look of Angel’s face and the hesitant tone of Wesley’s voice that spooked her. If they were nervous, then there was good reason to be.
Faith sighed as her hand ran through her hair, pushing it back away from her face. She looked up at Wes as he sat down on the armrest of her chair. She squeezed his knee reassuringly as she turned towards Angel.
“So they change the future, how? And more importantly why? What did they change to set about these events, and what’s next in the event line up?” Faith’s eye moved in between Angel and Wesley’s faces looking for answers to her questions, but there were none there. They were all as clueless about the Triuvna as each other.
“Right, well I guess it’s time to hit the books, don’t you?”
Wesley nodded in reply to Faith’s suggestion that they begin further research, and then turned once more to Angel. “Why don’t you take Miss Roberts home? I’m sure her mother is worried sick about her,” Wesley said, reaching down and putting his own hand on the one Faith had placed on his knee. “Faith and I will begin looking into this straight away.”
Sarah looked eagerly toward the vampire. She was tired of the questions, and having to explain things she didn’t even understand. She wanted to go home.
Angel let out a weary sigh. “Yeah, alright. That’s probably a good idea.” He looked at Faith once more. “Glad to have you back with us, Faith,” he said meaningfully before turning and leaving with Sarah.
Wesley couldn’t help but smile himself. His gaze fell upon Faith again. Her dress was torn to pieces, her hair was in disarray, and her wrists were wrapped in bloodied bandages. Yet she was still so incredibly beautiful, and alive. It didn’t even touch her.
Or did it?
Wesley suddenly felt a pang of guilt…and it probably wouldn’t be the last time.
He had rushed headlong into this mission, his head in the clouds, falling in lo-he couldn’t even finish the thought in his head; it was such a profound notion.
Wesley knelt down by Faith’s chair. He wanted to tell her that he should have come up with a better plan. He wanted to say that he loved her. He wanted to say a lot of things, but the only thing that came out was “I’m sorry.”
They were words that he would have never pictured himself saying to her only a few years ago. And perhaps they were absurd even now. But he couldn’t help but say them. He had put her life on the line not only once but twice, and it pained him. He reached out and touched her lips, lightly tracing the sensuous curve of her mouth. He wished he could stop time…that they didn’t have to do this all the time; but fighting evil was who they were. Neither could ever turn away. It was clear that if they were to keep fighting, that they were in it together. That would never stop Wesley from worrying, though. He knew now why watchers were forbidden to carry on love affairs with their slayers…why slayers were often alone without romantic attachments until the day they died-usually at a very early age. He knew now, more than ever, why Angel had let Buffy go.
It made everything complicated.
Wesley, however, was already in too deep. He couldn’t even see the way out now. He craved her with every fiber of his being, and whether it was right or wrong, he knew that he could never turn away from her. He had been the one to make her see her feelings after all. He had brought her literally kicking and screaming (and punching) into her admission of feelings for him. He wondered now if she had been right to try to suppress them. Maybe he had been wrong?
It was too late now.
Faith looked down at him, her bloodstained hand instinctively reaching toward his face. Her fingers lightly traced the one of the many bruises Wesley wore on his skin.
“You’ve not got anything to say sorry for.” Her eyes moved from his eyes to the bandage wrapped tightly round her wrist.
“Part of the gig, remember?”
Those words hung thick in the air for what seemed like forever as their eyes met and they spoke without words. Faith knew what Wesley was trying to say, and she also knew that nothing she could say was gonna convince him that he wasn’t to blame for her latest near-death adventure. This…thing between them…it was powerful, and as it had proven tonight, powerful enough to get them both killed if they let it.
Faith leant into his touch, his rough hands soothing her tired skin. There was no backing out now. Even if Faith wanted to-even if it could save her from being strapped to another altar-she knew that she couldn’t stop the feelings that she was developing for Wesley. She also knew, however, that it was exactly these feelings that could get them both killed.
Reality finally came back to Wesley, and he let his hand drop from Faith’s face. They had work to do. The books weren’t going to read themselves.
“Well…I guess it’s time to research,” Wesley said suddenly, looking away. He was trying to cover up the doubt, uncertainty and guilt that he had been feeling only moments earlier. He needed to keep it together. Not just for himself, but for Faith. The weight of the world was literally on their shoulders, and they would carry it until they broke. It was who they were.
“Right… Research.” Faith sat back in her chair, slowly easing up her leg and tucking it beneath her as she prepared to focus on the task at hand.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and a notion has occurred to me,” Wes spoke, rising from the floor and going to his bookshelf. “The Triuvna have the power to rewrite history. Therefore it is not too far off the mark to suggest that the reason we’ve found so little information about them is because they have rewritten the very texts that we are searching.”
He pulled out a particularly worn volume from a safe behind the bookshelf.
“This is a copy of Reinhardt’s Compendium, one of the most thorough volumes of demonic classification that exists,” he laid the book on the table, opening it up and leafing through. “This copy was bought on the black market, however. There are passages in this text that have been erased from ours. For example, the Beast.” He opened the page to the picture of the large stony monster that had almost killed Faith years ago.
“Perhaps we could obtain more books of this nature from someone who specializes in pan-dimensional black market goods,” Wesley said as he leafed through the text. “They may be able to tell us more about this clan, and their motives.”
“Books on the Black Market? There was me thinking the Black market was for hookers, drugs and limbs…” Faith looked at Wesley. He looked tired…drained from the fight, the worry, and more than likely, the hours he’d already spend researching the Clan.
“Ok, so we know what we need, but from where? Plus, even if we do get a bunch of books, how are we to know we got the right ones to help us? And then, how long is this gonna take? I doubt the Triv-whatever is gonna wait around whilst we skip a dimension or two on a book hunt.” Faith leant forward, eyeballing Wes as she spoke.
“We need the info now, and where I see it, there’s one place in this dimension that’s got the goods. Wolfram and Hart.”
Wesley’s hands left the book as the law firm’s name was spoken by Faith. Wolfram and Hart. It was a place he tried not to think about. There was still so much that he hadn’t told Faith about his time there. In fact, there was a lot he hadn’t told her about his past in general. He wondered if she would still want to be with him when she found out that he had taken Angel’s son…that he had slept with Lilah. He would have to tell her sooner or later. But now wasn’t the time. If they made it out of this next crisis, he would tell her everything. She deserved to know what kind of man he was. She had earned that much.
Wesley tried not to let the emotions inside him show on his face as he looked to Faith. She was right. They needed the templates that were still housed in the building. They could call up any text in the firm’s archive. Any rewritten texts would surely be a part of their collection.
“You’re right,” Wesley nodded, straightening up and running a hand over his tired, unshaven face. “We’ll have to break into the building and get the books.”
“But first, I think perhaps we should change into something a bit more appropriate for the job,” he smiled weakly as he looked at Faith. “Not that you don’t look positively beautiful as you are,” he added, a hand gliding to the small of her back to pull her up close. His other hand nestled in her thick dark hair at the back of her neck as he pulled her into a kiss. It was a soft kiss, almost reverent. But it made him feel lit up, and for a moment in time everything seemed to stop, just as he had wished earlier. It amazed him how his existence seemed to narrow down to the feeling of her soft lips against his, and the warmth of her body as he held her close.
The kiss deepened for a few moments before Wesley buried his face in her neck, still holding her close.
“We’ll make it through this, I promise,” he whispered into her ear. In reality, he was saying it to reassure himself just as much as her.
He stepped back, regretting the loss of her closeness as he took her hand in his and led her to the staircase. Faith followed Wesley slowly up to their room. The short walk seemed to exhaust Faith as she unceremoniously flopped back on the double bed. Her eyes slowly closing as Wesley’s words echoed in her head.
Would they make it through this?
Faith honestly didn’t know anymore. This case, which had started as a simple missing girl thing seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Every time they got anywhere close to something even resembling an answer, all they got back was a whole new bunch of questions and unexpected surprises just itching to get them an ass-kickin’. Faith’s arm moved to her face, her forearm resting on her forehead as she breathed out a heavy sigh.
Faith’s worried frown lifted as she felt Wesley carefully removing her shoes. Her mouth formed a smile as she pushed her tired limbs up into a sitting position. Her hand ran through his short hair as he knelt down at the side of the bed. The slayer eased herself down onto the floor beside him, her dress, ripped and torn, hung loosely on her slender frame, the strap sliding off her pale shoulder as she leant forward to kiss Wesley.
“We can handle whatever they throw at us… it’s what we do.” Her arms wrapped themselves round his neck as she pulled him towards her, her kisses becoming more determined, as if to prove the statement to both of them. She pulled away for a moment, her eyes meeting his.
“Just one thing… next time we go all covert and undercover… you’re wearing the dress.”
Faith’s face cracked into a luminous smile as she bought her lips towards his once again.
Wesley’s smile matched Faith’s as he leant toward her and met her lips. Kissing her was fast becoming one of his favorite pastimes. He knew that they had a hell of a fight in store; but for now, Wesley was content to steal a moment or two with the woman who had just recently changed his life so drastically…who made him feel alive again.
Angel wasn't back yet, and they needed this time together.
"I think I shall have to veto that plan,” he said in her ear, an eyebrow raised playfully as his fingers skimmed the straps that hung off the smooth slopes of her shoulders.
“However, when this is all over, we can burn the dress if you wish."
As his hands pushed the strap of one shoulder lower, his mouth traced a line from her bared shoulder up to her neck. When he found her lips again, he gently pushed the other strap down, and then just as gently pulled Faith up from the floor while still in his arms, the closeness of their two bodies the only thing keeping her dress from falling to the floor.
Wesley could tell from Faith’s slow and languid movements that she was still sore from the fight earlier. His eyes darkened a bit, and he looked solemn as he raised his hands above her head and began working on setting her wild hair free of the various pins that held it up. Meanwhile, Faith began to work on the buttons of his bloodied and ripped shirt.
“We should take a quick shower,” he said, stepping back a fraction so that the brunette’s dress fell from her small frame onto the floor. His blue eyes never left her own deep brown ones as she stood naked before him and discarded the rest of his clothes. After a few moments of simply standing in front of each other, he took her hand again and led her into the small bathroom, the tile cool against their feet.
Taking a towel from the rack, he placed it around her shoulders as he reached in to turn on the water. In the old hotel it took a while for the water to heat up, so Wesley took the opportunity to look at Faith’s wounds. He reached down for her hands and began to undo the bandages.
“You heal so fast,” he remarked softly as the skin beneath the bandages was revealed, almost entirely regenerated. He wanted her to focus on the healed cuts, because he knew that there were probably other hidden injuries as well…she was obviously still very sore. He wouldn’t ask her about it though. He knew she would become upset if he did. He was starting to know her…in ways he had only glimpsed at in the past. He was starting to know when to push, and when to let it be. She may be too proud to admit how hurt she was, but as long as he didn’t push her to admit it, she would let him care for her. And right now, that was the thing he most wanted to do.
Of course, the feel of her naked body pressed against his as they leant into the hot spray of water was not lost on him. He was still a man, after all.
“Put your head on my shoulder,” he said softly as he massaged the tense muscles of her neck. As he soothed the knots away, the hot water felt heavenly, washing away not only the dried blood, but the aches and pains in his own body that he hadn’t even realized were there. He had been too concerned about Faith to notice.
The hot water also awakened Faith’s tired skin as it ran down her slender frame. Her forehead rested gently on Wesley’s shoulder as his hands moved across her back, erasing the marks and stains from the previous night.
Faith let out a small groan as Wesley massaged out a tight knot above her shoulder blade. Her physical wounds were fast healing, the marks on her wrists were now barely more than aged scars, the bruises on her body had faded and the swellings had retreated, but Faith still didn’t feel right.
The drugs the clan had shoved into her system had left her body now, thanks to Wesley’s miracle grime concoction, but the speed of its exit had worn her out and shaken her up all at once, as if she was a junkie coming off crack cold turkey. She felt vulnerable in this state, a sensation Faith detested and saw as a huge weakness on her part; but for once she didn’t push Wesley away. Instead she let him in, opening herself up and allowing the ex-watcher into her heart.
She looked up at Wesley, the water running down her face, as she pulled her hair back behind her shoulders. Faith reached behind Wesley and loaded herself up with shower gel, rubbing it slowly in her hands before massaging it into his chest. Her hands wandered across his torso, cleaning the dirt from his skin. Wesley let out a low moan at the pleasant sensation of her hands on his skin.
Wesley’s body was covered in scars, both old and new. God only knew how many fights he’d suffered, how much pain he had endured as he fought alongside Angel. Faith was strong; put her in a brawl with a nest of vamps and you wouldn’t see anyone better equipped to take each and every one of them down; but Wesley’s strength was one which she envied. He was emotionally strong; he took on the vamps and demons of this world with no superhero force or vigor to push him through. No, this ex-watcher did it off his back, and Faith could tell from his marked skin that it had been no easy feat.
Their hands roamed each other’s bodies, but their eyes never moved, never leaving each other’s gaze, as the sins and destruction of the night before washed away from their skin. Her hands lay in his hair as his mouth joined with hers, her fingers interweaving with it as Wesley’s arms wrapped themselves tightly round her waist.
There was a tenderness to their kiss, a softness that spoke more about their trust and love for each other than words ever could. Her body stood flush against Wesley’s as he held her close in an embrace. Her hands moved to his face, her fingertip tracing his brow line as she looked at him.
Faith wanted to say something; she wanted to say everything that she was feeling and to pour it on out there for Wesley to hear. She wanted to explain how in just a short amount of time he had changed her, made her feel things that she didn’t know were possible, but the words didn’t come. While she had indeed allowed him in and trusted him completely, Faith was still kinda sketchy about herself, and whether she could been trusted not to screw him over like she had in the past.
So, instead she kissed him, hoping that her actions spoke louder than words.
The lovemaking that followed was tender, languorous, and filled with a sense of reverence for one another that truly touched Wesley’s heart. He hadn’t intended on being intimate with Faith tonight, but it was clear that they both needed it…and not just in a physical way. With every touch, every kiss, and every caress, they seemed to tell one another what they were both too afraid to say aloud. The only sounds they uttered were soft moans and sighs as they reached their release together under the hot spray of water.
Chapter Thirteen