__Mending Fences__
By Kath
"So Charles, you ready to go?" Cordy's voice lilted across the room,
breezy and carefree in a way it hadn't been for some time.
Wesley lifted his eyes up from the fascinating book on Egyptian demon
lore he'd picked up on his last visit to Rick's Majick n' Stuff, long,
slender finger marking his spot. He turned first to Cordelia, who was
waiting by the front door to their small office, her stylishly sandaled foot
tapping out impatient messages on the wooden floor, then to Gunn, who
was still slouching stubbornly in the worn, leather chair on the other side
of the room.
"Where are you going?" Wes was happy to hear his voice sounded just
the right amount of casual, and only a little bit nosy.
"Cordy's been all in my face about takin' her to some movie tonight,
starring Huey Lewis or Huey Long...somethin' like that. And I *still*
don't see why I gotta be the one to go!"
"It's *Hugh Jackman* for the fourth time, and I *already* told you, I am
not gonna be seen going to a movie on a Friday night by myself."
"Why can't Wes take you?"
Wesley's head ping-ponged back towards Cordy again, his look
expectant. Yes, why *couldn't* he take her?
"Don't give me that mopey 'Why not me?' look, Mr. My Social Calendar is
Booked A Month In Advance Because My Girlfriend Is Rich And Famous."
The seer waggled her finger sternly in the researcher's direction, while
simultaneously shooting a warning look at Gunn of the 'get your ass
moving or else' variety. Wesley's back stiffened, carefully constructed
indignation covering for the fact that he was appalled she had: 1) been
able to read him so easily and 2) had brought up Virginia. Before he
could formulate his reply, the girl was already continuing.
"I read all about that swanky little shindig your better half is throwing at
her palatial estate tonight -- which I'm sure you have a very good
reason for not getting me an invite to -- and, by the way, I certainly
hope you're not planning to wear *that* outfit tonight, because the guys
parking the cars are gonna be dressed better than you."
Wesley looked down at the olive green v-neck sweater and khaki
trousers he was wearing, his blood beginning to boil at the familiar
taunts. "I don't see why you must always criticize the way I dress," he
replied, heatedly.
"Somebody's got to keep you informed about your complete lack of
style, and if it's not going to be Virginia --"
"Well, at least I have the decency to wear clothing that covers more
than 25% of my body," he snapped back, his hand waving towards
Cordy's halter top and short skirt. "There are some days when I wonder
if you aren't hoping to be discovered by Hugh Hefner!"
Angel, who had been sitting unobtrusively in the far corner, reading the
latest novel by Raymond Feist, raised his eyes and regarded his former
associate thoughtfully. He was trying to stick to the 'I'm no longer the
boss, I work for you now' deal, and therefore was not about to interrupt,
but something was clearly bothering the former watcher, and Angel
suspected it had little to do with how often Cordelia chose to bare her
midriff.
"That never seemed to bother you back in Sunnydale when you used to
ogle me during cheerleading practice!" the seer grunted, moving
forward to give the thin Englishman a good poke in the chest and
another piece of her mind.
"Guys, guys, could we *please* not do this tonight?" Gunn swung his
tall, muscular body in between those of his two feuding partners. "You
are giving me a monster headache." Wesley hesitated, then backed off,
ducking his head slightly to hide the heat he felt rising in his cheeks. He
retreated back to the desk, and picked up his book with what he hoped
was an air of casual indifference. Glancing at his watch, he smugly
remarked:
"Aren't you going to be late for your movie?" He answered Charles'
scowl with a slightly questioning tilt of his head and an innocent
expression that the renegade didn't buy for one second. Before Gunn
could answer though, Cordy was pulling on his arm, dragging him out
the door.
Once they'd gone, Wesley noticed Angel, still quietly watching him over
the top of his book. "What?"
"Nothing." The vampire shrugged. They stared at each other
uncomfortably for a few moments.
Both men seemed to realize simultaneously that this was the first time
they had been alone in the office together since Angel had rejoined the
team, and neither could think of a suitable topic of conversation.
Searching for a distraction, Wesley's eyes fell to the latest office
acquisition.
"Coffee?" He picked up his cup, only to frown frustratedly at the
complex knobs and buttons decorating Cordelia's pride and joy - their
brand new cappuccino maker. Of course, the seer was the only one
who understood how the blasted thing worked. Angel came over to join
him, head cocked to one side as he looked at the machine and then
questioningly at Wesley. "I'll just make us some tea then, shall I?"
Wesley began to head for the back room, where the microwave was.
"Tea sounds good," Angel called after him, a slanted smile on his lips.
Good ole Wes and his tea. While he waited, Angel moved over to sit at
the desk, idly pulling open a few drawers, glancing at some of the files
he found.
"Is there something in particular you're looking for, Angel?" Wesley's
cool voice startled him, and he looked up quickly to find his friend -
boss? - standing in the doorway, two teacups in hand, and a rather
stern expression marring his features.
"Uh, no. No, I was just...hey, I don't want to keep you. I can hold down
the fort if you need to get going."
"Sorry?"
"You know, to get ready for your big party."
Wesley shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, that. Well, I don't actually -" He
was interrupted when the phone began to ring. Angel snatched it up,
trying to remember the Agency's latest catchphrase.
"Uh, A-Angel Investigations...we help, uh, we solve...Cordy?"
"Y'know, if you're gonna insist on answering the phone, the least you
can do is remember the slogans, Bat Boy."
Wesley quickly set down the teacups and came over, reaching out for
the receiver, as Angel turned slightly away, not ready to relinquish it.
"Cordy, I thought you and Gunn were going to that movie."
"Try telling that to the PTBs. We got as far as the popcorn line, before I
got my own personal movie preview in my head. There's a girl in a dark
alley -- and let me pause here to say that if more girls would stay out of
dark alleys, my life would be a whole lot more pain free."
"Angel, has Cordelia had a vision? Let me talk to her." Wesley reached
for the phone again.
"Wes, I think I can manage to write down the details myself..." Wesley
raised one eyebrow skeptically.
"Are you two fighting over the phone while I'm standing here, with the
mother of all migraines, missing my movie?" Cordy interrupted.
"...if you'll give me something to write on, that is." Angel finished. The
other eyebrow rose to join its mate, and for a second Angel thought
Wesley was going to refuse, but he finally opened a drawer and
removed one of Cordelia's message pads, handing it to Angel.
"By all means, Angel, go right ahead." He stood back, his hands folded
across his chest, and waited, as the vampire wrote down the details of
the seer's vision.
Angel could hear Gunn loudly in the background. "Tell Angel I can be
there to pick him up in ten."
"Cordy, tell Gunn --" Out of the corner of his eye, Angel caught sight of
the brief flash of annoyance that crossed Wesley's face, and rethought
his answer. "I can handle this one. No need to disrupt your night off --
if that's alright with you," he quickly amended.
"Sure, whatever. My job here is done, so I'm gonna take some
painkillers and try to enjoy myself for once." She'd already hung up,
before Angel could say goodbye.
"Planning on handling this one all on your own, are you, Angel?" Angel
turned back to Wesley, with an innocent expression carefully in place.
"No, I just figured between the two of us, we'd be able to handle
things." Momentarily stunned, Wesley blinked at him a few times,
before regaining his composure.
"Well, if you think I'm just going to sit here and identify the demon for
you..." he began, gruffly.
"Actually, from Cordy's description, this guy sounds like something I've
come up against before. I thought we could go out together, that is, if
you're up to it."
Wesley drew himself up to his full height. "I assure you, I have been
given a clean bill of health."
"Okay, great." Angel opened the broom closet that doubled as a
weapons cabinet, withdrawing several swords, an ax and a crossbow.
"Right, well then, we'd best hurry if we're going to get there before it's
too late. That address is clear across town." Wesley took the crossbow
and one of the swords from Angel and hurried out the door. Angel
smiled fondly at his colleague's retreating back, hefted the ax over one
shoulder and followed.
*************
"So, ah, what's she like?" Angel asked, as he sped the car towards the
address Cordelia had supplied.
Wesley, still unaccustomed to Angel's new habit of attempting small talk,
turned and stared at the vampire blankly. "What is *who* like?"
"Your girlfriend -- Virginia. I'll bet she's nice."
Wesley rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You have met her, you know."
Noting Angel's furrowed brow, he prompted, "We rescued her when her
father tried to sacrifice her to the Goddess Yeska..."
"Oh," recognition dawned. "The redhead."
"Yes," Wesley sighed. "The redhead. And, yes, she *is* nice. Very
nice."
"She's the one who thought you were me, right? When you...."
Wesley turned beet red but still managed to shoot back with: "So, how
did that whole epiphany thing come about again?" Deciding there were
some subjects better left alone, the two men lapsed into a rather
embarrassed silence for the remainder of their journey.
*********
Angel raised his ax and swung, satisfied to hear the crunch of neck
bones, as the demon's head flew away from its body and began to spin
lazily in a pool of its own orange blood. A noise behind him drew his
attention to Wesley, who had been valiantly battling the second - rather
unexpected - Ryxi Demon. Three of the creature's six arms had already
been lopped off and it was toppling backward, hitting the rough alley
pavement with a loud thud.
Angel watched curiously, as Wes continued to slash at the demon with
his sword long after it was apparent the flesh eater was dead.
"Uh, Wes? Wesley?" The vampire moved to put a staying hand on the
other man's swinging arm. "I think it's dead. You can stop now." When
Wesley made to continue, Angel increased the pressure of his
hold. "Wesley!"
Wesley stumbled back a few steps, shaking his head to clear it, as if just
waking from a trance. He was covered in orange goo, and sweat dotted
his brow. His breath came in short gasps, as he bent over, one hand
resting on his thigh, the other holding his aching side.
Alarmed, Angel tried to offer his help. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Wesley shrugged off Angel's hand.
"I'm fine, really." He looked down at the demon's remains,
ruefully. "Perhaps I was a little over zealous, in my eagerness to get
back into action." Wesley swiped the back of his hand across his
forehead, leaving behind a sticky streak of orange.
"Feel better?" Angel understood the powerful release of a nice,
gruesome kill, but wasn't sure if the same applied to humans.
Wesley leaned heavily against the dirty, red brick wall, the heaving of his
chest subsiding somewhat. He was still having to force out his words
between breaths, but an odd little smile was forming on his face.
"I do, actually," he sounded surprised. "I hadn't realized how much I
needed --" He broke off suddenly, his head drooping down as he lapsed
into deep thought. When Wesley didn't speak again for a few minutes,
Angel began to grow concerned, and was just about to ask him again if
he was okay, when the quiet ex-Watcher began again.
"Nothing's changed, you know." The voice was so quiet, that Angel felt
compelled to lean in closer.
"Uh, okaaay." Angel watched as Wesley pushed himself away from the
wall and began to make his way back towards the convertible. The
vampire caught up to him at the curb, where Wes was standing, staring
up into the streetlight, his hands deep inside his jacket pockets.
"I thought it would be different this time. I mean, my tenure in
Sunnydale was understandably difficult, considering the circumstances,
but I've had quite a bit more experience since then." It was only just
dawning on Angel that maybe Wesley was talking about something
besides his relationship with his former employer. Wesley turned to
face him then. "Being in charge is so..." A hand came up and gestured
vaguely as he searched for the word he wanted.
"Demanding? Stressful?" Angel tried to help.
"Isolating." The vampire's eyebrows shot up. That wasn't the answer
he'd been expecting. "Perhaps I'm just not cut out to be a leader -
making decisions that affect people's lives."
"Hey, Wes, c'mon. You've been doing a great job of being in charge,"
Angel protested gamely. Wes let out what sounded suspiciously like
a 'pffft' and scowled at him.
"Oh, come off it Angel," he snapped. "In the short time since I took over
the leadership role at Angel Investigations I've succeeded in infuriating
an entire species of demon, getting myself shot in the gut by a police
officer, and allowed Cordelia to be captured and implanted with demon
spawn *again*. If you hadn't broken through that wall to rescue us, we
might all have been... Well, I would hardly classify that as successful."
"And you've also saved peoples' lives. You went on with the fight, even
though you knew how hard it would be." Angel began to warm up to his
subject. "Besides, you're not isolated like you were in Sunnydale. You've
created a real team - Cordy and Gunn trust you completely, and...and
you've got Virginia to come home to."
Wesley's shoulders sagged, and he looked at the ground, the tip of his
shoe kicking a small rock into the gutter.
"Yes, of course. Virginia," he whispered. The veil of confusion was
lifted and Wesley's odd behavior began to make sense to Angel.
"You do, don't you?" he asked quietly.
The bleak look in Wesley's eyes, when he finally lifted them to Angel's,
answered for him.
"You won't say anything to the others, will you?"
"No, uh, not if you don't want me to." Angel was surprised Wes hadn't
already confided in his other friends.
"It's just that, with everything else that's been going on..." Wesley
trailed off. Angel felt helpless. If he were Cordy he could give Wes a
hug. Even Gunn would probably sling an arm around his shoulder
companionably. But, he was only Angel, capable of looking around
awkwardly, searching for something comforting to say that wouldn't
make him sound like a complete jackass.
"So, uh, what happened?" Angel winced as soon as the words left his
mouth. Why would Wesley want to tell *him* anything?
Wes let out a sigh, and actually appeared to be grateful for the
question. "It was my getting shot that was the final straw. Vampires
and demons she could handle - she's known about them all her life - but
bullets, and hospital waiting rooms...Virginia hasn't had an easy life,
Angel, and she's only just beginning to find her own way. I couldn't ask
her to burden herself with my problems. She's young and innocent and
deserves better."
"And you don't?" Angel was incredulous. "Why didn't you just walk away
from all this? Tell her you'd give it all up and stay with her?"
"Because, *all this*" Wesley began heatedly, mimicking Angel. "...is
what I've devoted my entire life to. The work we do is more important
than what *I* want - what any one person wants. Giving up simply
wasn't an option." This time, Angel did take a chance, reaching up to
grasp Wesley's shoulder firmly, squeezing gently.
"And that's what makes you a good leader, Wes." Wesley blinked at
him, realizing the vampire was being sincere.
"Thank you, Angel," was his hushed, heartfelt reply. Overwhelmed by
the moment, Angel had the sudden urge to change the subject.
"Now, if the boss wouldn't mind a little suggestion...." Wesley cocked
his head questioningly. "...I think we should get going and change out of
these clothes, cause I think this gunk is beginning to harden." Angel
motioned to the demon blood still layering both their clothes. Wesley
grinned in relief.
"I believe I could go along with that," he agreed, as they both hopped
into the car. Soon, they were on their way.
*******
"Well, it's about time. Where the hell have you been?"
Angel and Wesley exchanged glances, then turned innocently towards
the angry seer, who stood blocking their path, her hands planted firmly
on her hips.
"You were the one with the vision, Cordelia, " Wesley reminded her,
brushing past on his way to retrieve his satchel, which they'd come back
for.
"Yeah, and last I heard *Angel* was gonna take care of it," Gunn
added, from where he sat on the edge of the desk, sharpening his
hubcap axe.
"Yeah, what gives?" Cordy's eyebrows came together. "I thought you
had big plans for tonight, Wes." Before the uncomfortable man could
say anything, Angel jumped to the rescue.
"You know Wes. He wasn't going to go off to any party when there
were demons to fight. Work always comes first, right Wes?"
Wesley shot him a grateful smile. "Oh, uh, yes. You know, Cordelia, I
really didn't think Angel should be going out there on his own so soon."
Angel lifted one eyebrow, but didn't try to protest. Cordy chewed her lip
and exchanged a look with Gunn, who shrugged.
"Well, you were probably right there. Good thinking, Wes. *Now* I'm
thinking showers would be good." She waved a hand in front of her
nose dramatically. "What *is* that stuff anyway?" Wesley grinned at
her.
"You really don't want to know...and we were just heading off to
change."
"You need a ride home, English?" Gunn looked up from his task.
Wesley looked at him, then at Angel.
"No, you stay here and finish that. I'm sure Angel wouldn't mind giving
me a lift, would you, Angel?"
Angel felt his face break into a goofy grin, but couldn't help
himself. "No, I don't mind at all." He made a sweeping gesture towards
the door. "Shall we?"
* * *