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Needed	By : abra Category: Angel the Series > Het - Male/Female > Faith/Wesley Views: 1835 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own AtS, nor make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the setting of the story. All things I borrowed from the Buffyverse are a creation of and belong to Joss Whedon.

I have also borrowed several ideas and concepts from to J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter books, I used some in this chapter, some will be in the rest of the story. (the magical selection into Hogwarts, the mirror of Erised, the Room of Requirement)
Timeline: more than 9years after "Not Fade Away" ("Angel"), 10 after "Chosen" (BtVS)

Beta: Dave

Chapter 6

"Could you give me the Saitama Codex, please?" Wesley asked without lifting his eyes from the crumbling papyrus.
He was two paragraphs deeper into the text before he noticed that he hadn't even gotten an answer, let alone the book. He looked up expecting to see Alex asleep in his armchair. The office was empty though, and a glance at his watch told him it was several hours past the boy's bedtime. He remembered vaguely saying goodnight to a droopy-eyed Alex around ten o'clock that night. Or had that been the night before? Alex had been acting as his research assistant for a few days, and Wesley was sometimes surprised how comfortable they felt with each other.
He stood up slowly and stretched, wincing at the sound of his creaking bones and the stabs of pain from various parts of his body. He was so tired he couldn't tell apart the pain from having stayed in the same position for hours from the pain caused by the numerous bruises he had gotten during practice.
Wesley walked out of the office with the intention to brew himself another tea and return to work. He stopped on the first landing to watch Faith and Spike sparring. Late at night was the only time they had the arena to themselves. Wesley had it during the days to train the Slayers, and in the evenings when he was training Alex.
The interaction between the two fighters was enthralling, but Wesley soon began to analyze what he was seeing and try to make sense of their recent behavior. Both of them had been unusually irritable for the past few days, and had seemed to resent the slow slayage action. They were brimming with energy, and knowing themselves unobserved they were fighting without holding back. Wesley thought they looked like a couple of young tigers, playing rough, fully aware of each other's limits.
He was fascinated by their fast, hard and often disreputable blows. For both fighters style was merely an afterthought, they had gained it simply as a side effect of their substantial experience, and were always willing to sacrifice it for the benefit of an underhanded tactic. Wesley sighed, realizing once more just how unfortunate had been his appointment as Faith's Watcher at a time when he had been himself so young and inexperienced. He was appreciative her innate grace, and at the same time could not help wishing he could correct some of her moves.
Wesley winced in sympathy when Faith caught Spike a blow on the chest so hard it threw the vampire flying through the entire length of the room all the way into the opposite wall. She went after him with some unnecessarily extravagant leaps. Spike took advantage of her momentary lack of focus on him to trip her with a well placed kick. On her way down, Faith caught Spike's arm and threw him on the floor, landing heavily on him. She straddled him, smirking overconfident, but Spike flipped her over almost instantly, and pinned her underneath him.
Wesley expected Faith to counter the move easily, and roll on top of her opponent, but the scene seemed to freeze for a long moment. He watched Spike lose himself in Faith's gaze, and then lower his head slowly toward her. Wesley had a sharp flashback of that unwittingly spied first kiss between Fred and Gunn. The pain he had carefully walled in a dark corner of his mind stabbed him without warning. He doubled over as if physically hurt, but his mind, perpetually eager for information and truth forced him to keep his eyes open.
Spike shook his head as if to dispel the temptation, and at the same time Faith pushed him away. They both got up and walked away in silence. Wesley wondered how many times something like this had happened during the past ten years. The sexual tension between them had been so intense that it had stirred the glimmer of a reaction even inside Wesley, even beneath all the pain of his dark memories. Again, he wondered if, over the years, they had ever given in to the mutual attraction.
Wesley changed his mind about the tea, and went into Spike's room instead. He heard the shower running, and sat on the bed to wait for the vampire. He woke up startled by a theatrically loud cough. Spike was standing in the middle of the room with nothing but a towel around his hips.
"Do you miss your days as 'Head Boy', Percy?" Spike asked, corking an eyebrow at him. "Because if you do, I'm gonna have to disappoint you."
"I wanted to talk to you. Must have dozed off."
"With the hours you're keeping, I'm surprised you woke up at all."
"You took an awfully long time with that shower," Wesley commented, wondering if the shower had been hot or cold.
"Whatcha wanted to talk about?"
"Faith. She has been rather snappy lately. Anything in particular bothering her?"
"You mean except the impending end of days?"
"Yes. Other than that."
Spike ran his hands through his hair. Wesley studied him in silence, giving him time to decide what to answer. He had known Angel for years, he should have been used to a vampire's unchanging appearance. He wondered why he was still surprised Spike looked so young. It wasn't the same, of course. Angel's brooding nature had always given him an air of maturity beyond his perpetual youth, while Spike's temperament had preserved the air of almost childish wickedness.
"Faith is seeing someone. Probably shouldn't tell ya. I don't know who he is, anyway. Once every couple of months or so she takes off for a day or two. She doesn't talk about it. I never asked. My advice, don't ask her."
"How long since the last time she saw him?" Wesley asked, both relieved to have an argument against a sexual relationship between Faith and Spike, and at the same time wildly curious, and, inexplicably, a tad annoyed.
"More than three months."
"And you don't even suspect who the mystery man might be?"
Spike gave him a long look. Wesley was reminded that the vampire's ten year old relationship with Faith probably had numerous layers of complexity. He tried to understand the vampire's reluctance to probe into Faith's romantic or sexual liaisons.
"No idea, mate," Spike said.

~~~~~~~~
The next day

Wesley looked up from the badly transcribed version of the Nyazian Prophecies. He had done research on his own for most of his life, but he felt unusually alone each night after Alex left. He saw the boy's jacket on the floor. He went to pick it up, and instead of placing it neatly on the back of a chair he decided to go to the boy's room to give it back. He had left only a few minutes ago, so he probably hadn't fallen asleep.
Wesley stopped outside Alex's room when he heard Faith's voice. He leaned quietly against the wall, listening at the conversation through the partly open door.
"You know you can tell me if you're afraid. It's ok to be scared."
"Well, yeah, I was scared when the demons attached. I 'm not stupid, they were big, bad monsters. But it turned out all right. You guys beat the stuffing out of them."
"Are you angry that I wasn't here that night?"
"Mo-om!" Alex exclaimed, exasperated. "You were on patrol. I know you can't be with me all the time. I think that's why you brought Wesley."
"You sure seem to like him a lot," Faith said.
"He's awesome, Mom. The way he fought those demons was so amazing!" Alex said excitedly.
Wesley smiled embarrassed. He wasn't eavesdropping to hear about the boy's acute case of hero worship. It was unusual in the extreme for him to be anyone's hero, but he wanted to hear Faith's reaction. She had been tense about the interaction between himself and the boy from the very beginning, and he just had to find out why.
"And he has no super powers," Alex went on.
"He can use magicks."
"He didn't use magick when he fought. I was watching him from the kitchen when he was fighting in the backyard. He's just a regular guy. Just like me. So when I grow up, I can fight demons, too."
"Baby, I would be so happy if you could have a normal life. I want you to know that whatever you want to do, I'll support your choice. Even if you want to fight demons, which scares the hell out of me. I wish you'd go to college, maybe become a doctor or something like that."
"College!?! I'm nine."
"I know. A mom can dream, can't she?"
"Bloody early to talk about college, wouldn't you say?"
Wesley heard the English accent again in the boy's voice, and waited patiently for Faith's reaction.
"You know, girls find an English accent sexy when they're seventeen or so. If you go back to school with an English accent, you're just asking for wedgies," Faith said.
"I-I don't have any English accent," Alex stuttered a little.
"I'm not scolding you. You could do worse than Wesley as a role model."
"Do you like him, mom?"
Faith took a beat too long to answer. Wesley was well aware he wasn't one of Faith's favorite people, but he found it difficult to hear it. When eavesdropping one always ran the risk of hearing things one would rather not know.
"I respect him, and I trust him. Like him? No. I can't say I do."
"Why not?"
"We don't have the most pleasant history. I know I told you this before, but I promise, if you still want to know, I'll tell you when you're older. OK, honey?"
"OK," Alex answered, the disappointment in his voice was mild enough to let Wesley guess that there was probably a long list of things Faith had postponed disclosing.
The words of Faith's letter came into Wesley's mind promptly. "If you read this letter it means I died before having the conversation I promised you since you were six." That file was a shortcut he could follow, even if an underhanded one.

~~~~~~~~~~
Later that evening
Wesley gave in to the gnawing curiosity and looked in the cabinet for the mysterious unmarked file containing Faith's farewell letter to her son. He suddenly halted his search when he saw the words "Wesley Wyndham-Pryce" on a cover. He took out the thick file, and started leafing through it on top of the cabinet. It was full of photocopies of his own Watcher diaries, and even notes from his time in Angel Investigations and Wolfram & Hart. There were annotations in Faith's handwriting on almost every page. He smiled at the unusual entry about missing English cooking. He had finally solved the small, but intriguing mystery of Faith's insight into his culinary tastes that had plagued him from the first sandwich she had offered him.
The letter fell when he put the heavy folder on the desk. He picked it up and stared at the envelope. He was looking at Alexander Lehane's acceptance into the Watcher's Academy. He remembered his father's expression when his own acceptance letter had come, so many years ago. He was, even if just momentarily, proud of him. One of the few times Wesley felt that his father found him worthy of the Wyndham-Pryce name. The last of a long line of Watchers. Or was he the last one?
It was still impossible, but Wesley needed to confront Faith about the absurd, yet persistent inkling that Alex was his son. The opportunity came that very night after Faith and Spike returned from their patrol. The awkwardness of the previous night's incident was still hanging between them, and they skipped their late night training.
Spike had gone upstairs without as much as stopping by Wesley's office.
"Hey, Wes. We're back. I'm turning in for the night, if you don't need anything," Faith said as usually.
"Actually, I could use your help tonight. If you're not too tired," Wesley told her before she could leave.
He watched her sit in the armchair Alex had vacated at the end of his "shift". She looked young and tired, and Wesley weighed for a while his need to learn the truth against the dark potential of backing Faith into a corner. He tried to muster enough empathy to stop himself from pushing her buttons. He could not. He had lived his first life with the firm belief that the more he knew the better chances he stood. And this time, the battle that was coming threatened much more than his personal safety.
"Before we begin, I've been meaning to ask you for a few days, what's going on with Spike? He's not his usual carefree self."
"Oh, that. He hasn't been hunting for a while," Faith answered with a shrug.
"I know that the patrols were not all that action-packed this week, but that's hardly long enough for him to feel frustrated."
"I didn't mean that," she said, and this time she seemed slightly uncomfortable. "Spike goes away once every few months. Into big cities. And he hunts. Like he used to. Well, not exactly like he used to, but he... you know how he is with women..."
"He feeds on humans?" Wesley asked shocked. "On young women?"
"He doesn't kill. He just likes the action."
"But he's a champion..." Wesley heard himself saying before he could censure the na�ve reaction.
Faith smiled with such warmth and tenderness that Wesley wished she was pleased with his youthful outburst and not with the image of Spike as champion.
"He is. He's just not like Angel."
Wesley smiled, too. She had understood that, in his mind, Angel was the prototype champion. He began his attack, knowing it to be even more effective if he started from this apparent friendly atmosphere.
"I can understand why you might have misgivings about sending Alex to the Watchers' Academy. No matter how much they have changed, I can't imagine they would approve of a Watcher who is comfortable with a vampire feeding on humans."
He saw Faith becoming suddenly pale.
"Why are you talking about him going to the Watchers' Academy?"
"His acceptance letter," Wesley said, holding it up from the desk. "I found it in my file. Funny how you never mentioned you have my old diaries."
"Stole them ages ago. When we started training Slayers. Just for reference."
"Only mine. And more than just my Watcher diaries."
Faith shrugged noncommittally.
"I also find it very interesting that the letter was in my file."
"It's Watcher stuff," she said.
Wesley was barely able to discern the signs of tension in her body. She had to be coiled like a cornered animal, poised to attack, but she was hiding it well. He went for a direct approach. There was no easy way to have this conversation.
"Is he my son?"
"Come on, braniac, do the math! You had been dead for a year when he was born."
She sounded like she had expected the question. The answer felt rehearsed. Wesley was not going to drop the subject no matter how she reacted. He was prepared to face anything from laughter to physical violence.
"I was alive last month and dead for the past nine years. Time isn't exactly consistent for me."
"Kind of a big stretch even for you. And, Wes, you can't possibly imagine you would forget conceiving him. I mean, come on!" she said pointing at herself in a confident pose that reminded Wesley of the eighteen year old Slayer he had let down. But not even the reminder of this failure from his youth could dissuade him from looking for the truth.
"Don't think I don't notice you're not saying he isn't mine. As for conceiving him... Faith, I read your file. I know you can't have children."
She threw him against the wall in a split second. Wesley watched the boiling fury in her eyes with a tired detachment. Truth had always seemed more important than his own life, and this time was no different.
"If you so much as whisper something like this to Alex or to anyone, I will hurt you so bad you'll remember fondly the first time I tortured you."
He let her wrath wash over him, knowing it to be righteous. Miraculous as Alex's existence was, there was no doubt in Wesley's mind that Faith was the boy's mother.
"I'm not a monster, Faith. I wouldn't say anything to the child even if I didn't like him as much as I do. But don't put it passed me to get a DNA comparison."
He watched her cave in. She loosened her grip on him, though her eyes were still blazing. He wondered if he should do something to comfort her. Yet even something simple, like patting her on the shoulder, or taking her hand, felt impossible. Wesley was aware how distant he must seem, standing in front of her demanding a truth she had kept secret for a decade.
"He is my son, Wes. I know better than you how impossible this should have been. You cannot possibly understand what having Alex meant to me. I knew I couldn't have children since I was seventeen. When I got pregnant... it was a miracle. I don't know how it was possible. I don't even understand who or what his father was. Shut up," she said when Wesley opened his mouth to say something.
She went to the file cabinet, and took out a file labeled "Erised".
"This is everything I could gather over the years. Read it. I'm kind of hoping you can make some sense of it all. Let me know if you do," she said.
"I never wanted to hurt either of you, but I need to know. He is so much like me when I was his age," his voice trailed off. "Except he seems happier and better adjusted," he added.
"His father was a lot like you, too," Faith said, and left the room.

~~~~~~~~
To be continued...
- 5
- 6
- 7
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