"I feel that its kind of my duty to tell you, that if you had been a better watcher, I might have been a more positive role model. Face it, Wesley, you really were a jerk, always walkin' around like you had some great big stake rammed up your English Channel."

Faith's words haunted him. He had been her watcher. He should have known better. Intellectually he told himself that she was a flawed human being before he even met her, the doctors referring kindly to her as borderline psychotic. He also knew he could have helped her and instead he had driven her further toward the dark side. Angel knew it too, and had plainly spelled it out for him, when they had first learned Faith was in town.

"...last year I had a chance at saving her. I was pulling her back from the brink when some British guy kidnapped her and made damn sure she'd never trust another living soul."

If he could do it all again, he would do it differently, but that was not an option. And though Wesley despised Faith for torturing him, he couldn't stop believing he could have done something to change her; to make her better, to have her trust him the way she had trusted Sunnydale's evil mayor. This was at the core of the ache he felt inside every time he was reminded of the young girl, so full of promise at one time, who was now sitting in a jail cell somewhere, possibly for the rest of her life. Perhaps this was why he had made the choice to defend her, despite all she had done to him, when the Council had come to him with their deal. If he had given them Faith, they would have given him his job back. He felt some solace in knowing he had repaid some past wrongs, by ultimately turning down the deal. No one deserved what the Council would have done to her; not even Faith. This, of course, was completely contradictory to the dreams he kept having, in which it was Faith tied to the chair, with Wesley performing all five of the basic torture techniques.

Wesley shook his head, as if to clear his mind of these thoughts, and raised his coffee cup to his lips. The sudden ringing of the phone startled him, so that he nearly spilled its contents all over his papers. With a sigh, he picked up the phone.

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless. How may I help you?" Cordelia, who had rushed into the room to answer the phone, waited, with her hands on her hips, to see if Wesley wanted her to take the call. He held up his hand, to indicate he had it, and was reaching for a pencil when he froze, his face turning an ashen gray.

"Wesley, what is it? What's the matter?" Cordelia sounded alarmed enough for Angel to come out of his office. Wesley still hadn't moved, as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. Without warning, the coffee cup slipped unnoticed from his fingers, and landed on the desk with a loud crash. Angel and Cordy rushed over to Wesley, who appeared that he might faint at any moment. He stood there in a trance, not hearing their concerned voices and suddenly all he could see was Faith. They were back in that apartment, and she was torturing him.

(six weeks earlier)

Wesley slowly opened his eyes and grimaced. The bright light shining from the ceiling was blinding to him. Everything was out of focus, and he couldn't remember where he was. He needed his glasses, that was it. Then everything would be alright. He moved to reach out for them and waves of pain shot through his entire body, causing him to fade out again for a moment. When he came to again, a blurry figure was hovering over him.

"Hey, Wes, glad to see you back. I thought you were gonna kick the bucket for a while there. Glad you didn't, cause I've got lots more fun in store for you."

Wesley tried again, more slowly this time, to reach out, and found his hands were tied behind his back. It all came rushing back to him; where he was, what was going on.

Faith.

He wondered how long he had been tied to this chair, being tortured by this insane maniac.

"She's not a demon, Angel. She's a sick sick girl, and if there's even a chance she could be reasoned with..." God, had it only been earlier in the day when he had argued with Angel about this? And what was it he had said to Faith, when they had met again at Cordelia's apartment? "I still believe, in my heart, that you are not a bad person." He was ready to believe the demon theory now. At the moment, Wesley wanted nothing more than to see her dead. He wanted to tell her this, but was prevented from doing so by the tight gag in his mouth, so instead he shook his head, to get her attention.

"What's the matter, Wes? Do you have some more pearls of wisdom for me? Something 'watcherly' that's gonna make me change my evil ways?" Her voice dripped sarcasm. Smiling, she removed the gag from his mouth. As she did so, she leaned hard on the shoulder that, only a short while before, she had stuck deeply with a shard of glass. She obviously got great pleasure out of watching him bite his lip hard as he stifled a moan.

Wesley closed his eyes for a moment, trying to control the pain. He worked his stiff jaw up and down, trying to get some feeling back in his face, and spat out some blood. Then he looked Faith square in the eye. She was close enough now that he could see her clearly.

"I was your watcher, Faith. I know the real you. And even if you kill me there's just one thing that I want you to remember..."

Faith's expression turned serious, almost as if she really cared about what Wesley was going to say to her. "What's that, love?"

Wesley leaned as close to her face as he could and painstakingly enunciated each word. "You are a piece of shit!"

Faith exploded with fury, at being tricked into listening to her former watcher. She smacked him across the face so hard the chair nearly fell backward. For the briefest of seconds Wesley felt agony, then there was only blackness again.

When Wesley came to this time, he found he was experiencing a different sensation. The pain was still there, to be sure, but with it came something different, something... pleasant. He gingerly opened one eye, hoping to find himself alone, and was greeted with the site of Faith, kneeling in front of him, with a wicked grin on her face. He suddenly realized what the source of the pleasure was. Faith had her hand on his crotch and was rubbing it slowly, and it felt good. Wesley tried to banish that last thought from his mind, silently pleading with his body not to respond to her touch. What was wrong with him? This woman had been beating and stabbing him only moments before, and yet he could feel himself getting excited. His heart was pounding and his breathing quickened. Wesley licked his lips nervously and eyed Faith with suspicion. Perhaps this was only the beginning of a new vile torture he didn't want to know about.

"Well, Wes, it seems you're a real man after all." Faith increased the pressure to his groin, and was rewarded with a small moan from Wesley. Keeping her eyes locked on the his face, she slowly began to unfasten his belt buckle and unzip his pants. His erection could be plainly seen beneath his boxers and she very slowly reached in and took hold of it.

"You're really sick, Faith. Why don't you just do what you're planning to do and get it over with."

"I don't know, Wes. Who's the sick one - you or me? You're the one that seems to be enjoying this. I just figured it would make for a nice break from all the maiming and torturing, y'know. It's been a while for me... me being in a coma and everything."

She continued to stroke him and could feel him getting harder and harder, and finally pulled his swollen member free of the confines of his clothing altogether. With a conspiratorial wink, Faith picked up the kitchen knife she had brought with her, waving it over Wesley's penis, as if looking for the perfect spot to cut. Wesley sucked in his breath and held it there, waiting... waiting.

Faith was surprised; if possible his erection was getting harder.

"You've got a bit of the bad boy in you, dontcha, Wes? I didn't know bondage was your thing." She ran the flat edge of the knife blade up and down his penis.

Faith's actions were driving Wesley crazy. He was trying not to show the least bit of interest in what she was doing, but his body was betraying him - big time. Faith nicked the tip with the knife point and a few drops of blood welled up. She leaned down, and began to lick them off, then to suck at the small wound. Another moan escaped from Wesley's throat before he could stop it, and Faith responded by sucking harder and licking the shaft from one end to the other. Wesley didn't know how much more he could take. He would never have believed that a person could be in so much pain and so much pleasure at the same time. He had endured her torturing for hours, and yet, he knew he would not be able to resist giving in to the hormones now raging through him. He cursed himself for yet another weakness of character on his part, even as he shifted his hips, trying to ease the discomfort growing below his waist.

Abruptly, Faith stopped what she was doing and stood up. She looked down at Wesley's face, which had an almost pleading expression. He still hadn't responded verbally to her, with the exception of a few grunts and moans, but she could imagine the tug of war going on in that uptight pompous British mind of his. She had no doubt that he had never experienced anything remotely like this before. She toyed with the idea that he might even be a virgin - something that nearly made her laugh. At the same time, feelings were arising in her too. She could feel stirrings in her groin, as she looked deeply into her enemy's eyes. He wasn't nearly the wimp she had pegged him for. He was bolder and more self assured than he had been a year ago, and that moment earlier in the day, when he had struck her, had really turned her on. It was almost a shame to do such damage to this handsome face. Almost. She couldn't forget what had brought her here, nor the fact that, when she was finished with him, she was going to kill Mr. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.

"Admit it, Wesley. Didn't ya always kinda have the hots for me?" Faith ran her hand across his cheek, slightly digging her nails into the fresh wounds she had inflicted earlier. Wesley winced, but still said nothing. His mind was racing, wondering what she had in store for him next. He was feeling very exposed, as she had left his trousers open. He didn't have long to wait. Faith was slowly unbuckling her leather pants and then she allowed them to drop to the floor, stepping neatly out of them, while still maintaining eye contact with her captive audience.

Wesley swallowed hard, as Faith lowered herself onto his lap, rubbing herself against him, and began running her hands over her own breasts.

"Sorry I can't untie you, Wes. Guess you'll just have to watch. But, that's what you're supposed to be good at, isn't it... Watcher?"

Faith took his face in her hands and kissed him hard. It was far from tender, and she nipped at his lips with her teeth. Still, it was very erotic, and finally Wesley gave in - kissing her back. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her chest against his, while her tongue danced in his mouth, then lifted her hips up and lowered herself onto his rock hard penis. Wesley couldn't help straining at the ropes that bound his hands and feet, as she moved up and down. It was a wonder the chair didn't collapse under them. Faith was enjoying herself immensely, and was ready with one more surprise, just to make things interesting. With one free hand, Faith reached for the knife again, and when she felt they were both close to climaxing, she stuck the knife into Wesley's thigh.

"C'mon Wes. I wanna hear you scream."

Wesley, simultaneously experiencing both the searing pain from the knife wound and the ecstasy of his release into Faith, did scream. Faith began kissing him again until she'd reached her own climax, and then they were still, both too drained to do anything else. After a few minutes, Faith removed herself from Wesley's lap and retrieved her pants. She was kind enough to zip Wesley up, giving his crotch one final affectionate pat, before moving over to the open window, where she sat quietly for quite some time.

Wesley sat numbly with his back to Faith, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he didn't know if it was from the pain, or the shame he felt at allowing himself to feel such pleasure. He should have been stronger; someone with better discipline would have been able to withstand Faith's advances. The room was spinning around him and he thought he was going to be sick. Panic seized Wesley as he heard Faith move away from the window, back towards him again.

"Well, that was refreshing, but I'm feeling a little cold. Let's say we warm the place up." Faith wandered over to the stove where she picked up a pilot lighter and an aerosol can. She experimented with lighting the spray with the lighter and brought the flame dangerously close to Wesley's face. The torture was about to begin again...

"Wesley. Wesley! Anybody home in there or did your brain take a vacation?" Wesley was suddenly aware that Cordelia was shaking his shoulders roughly, trying to get his attention. Angel, looking unusually concerned, was hovering behind her. "Are you going to put the phone down, or do we have to go out and buy a new one, cause if so, its coming out of your salary, not mine." Wesley smiled weakly at Cordelia's typical remarks, and placed the phone back on the hook.

"I'm terribly sorry to have worried you. I guess my mind was occupied elsewhere."

"Who was worried? I'm just expecting a call from my agent any time now and can't have you tying up the phone lines with your 'Tin Man rusted to the floor' act." Cordelia went back to her desk and appeared to have forgotten why she had been worried about Wesley in the first place. Angel was eyeing Wesley closely from the other side of the desk. He knew something was up with his friend, but also knew that Wesley was as good at hiding his emotions as Angel was himself.

"If there's anything you want to talk about, Wes, you know my door's always open."

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry, really. It's nothing, its just... well, I guess sometimes things happen that remind me of.... well, what happened with... Faith. I guess it still shakes me up a bit, now and then. Its to be expected, I suppose. I'm alright, really.

Angel seemed reluctant to drop the subject, but had to admit Wesley did make sense. He smiled a rare friendly smile at him and went back into his office.

Wesley sat down, and tried to make his hands stop shaking. He hadn't given Angel or Cordelia any details about what had transpired with Faith. They respected his privacy, and had felt he would tell them when he was ready. He was far from alright, and wasn't sure when things would ever be normal again. Not after that call he had just received. He didn't know how he was going to deal with this new information by himself, but didn't know how he was going to bring himself to tell his friends what he had allowed Faith to do - No. What he had allowed himself to do. How in the world was he going to tell them that a doctor from the prison had just informed him that a routine blood test done on Faith had shown the girl was definitely pregnant, and Faith was insisting Wesley was the only possible father?