http://discessum.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
discessum.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2009-06-07 10:04 am
discessum.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2009-06-07 10:04 am
log; complete
When; June 6th [Late Evening].
Rating; PG-13 [Language].
Characters; Faith [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thesecondslayer] & Wesley [discessum].
Summary; Wesley agrees to stop by to check on Spike and talk with Faith. She has some questions, but doesn't answer his. It's a good thing they weren't cursed.
Log;
WESLEY; It didn't take a genius to know that something very drastic had changed for Faith, and it was even more clear that it had to do with Gabriel. No, Sylar. Hiro had reminded him of the difference between the two, after all. And now he wondered if Faith was finally starting to understand it as well.
It had been clear for awhile that Sylar had become less careful with Faith. Especially when watching her practice the Tai Chi, Wesley had noticed the very specific type of injuries she had. A careful eye and experience of his own with a certain lawyer led him to understand they were hardly battle wounds, but he'd kept his opinions to himself, even when it got far too carried away during that curious curse. What hadn't been allowable was the fact that she'd obviously accepted Sylar's blood in order to heal again.
He probably should have been harder on her for that, but by now he knew it would have just forced her to cut him out even more, and he couldn't afford that. Especially if things were bad enough for her to be picking up extra shifts at work, sleeping at Angel's, and actively trying to talk to Wesley. Maybe she was finally starting to see more clearly.
Wesley entered through the cellar so that he could check on Spike in passing before heading through the halls. Angel was probably at the office at this hour, but he hadn't bothered to check before leaving. There was a chance Illyria was somewhere in the mansion, but he would worry about that later. Right now he was supposed to meet Faith.
When he entered the kitchen, he tensed slightly. Was that one of Angel's shirts?
"Clothes in the wash?" he asked dryly, arms folded across his chest and one eyebrow lifted just a bit.
FAITH; It had probably been a mistake, saying anything to Wesley. Because he'll want to know why, and Faith's got nothing to give right now. She can't even admit in a freaking journal-- to herself-- exactly what's going on. How is she supposed to say anything to Wes? Especially after he bawled her out about the blood during the meteor shower. It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him to buzz off, it was a curse and it's not like she let Gabe inject her again, but something-- a recently discovered sense of shame, simple masochism, whatever-- had her keep her mouth shut and just take it.
She very nearly jumped when he spoke, coming way too close to banging her head on the fridge. Rubbing a hand over her eyes and grabbing the first thing that looked semi-appetizing, she backed away, shutting the refrigerator door as quietly as possible.
"More like it was this or nothing. I didn't pack-- anyway. Just figured Angel'd rather I snag something of his than walk around balls out naked." She shrugged, expression a little defensive. "I'm gonna wash it and give it back."
The defensiveness melted into awkward quickly, Faith ducking her head and staring at the floor. She doesn't do conciliatory well, is better at moving on and just hoping people deal or leave her be. But they're all stuck here, and Wes... for whatever jacked up reason, the guy's opinion matters. "...You want something to eat? I was gonna try for eggs or something. Figure even I can't screw those up too bad. And they're just eggs, even if I don't do it right they'll be a meal or whatever."
She's nearly vibrating with contained energy, and the knowledge that the crappy little notebook she chucked at the wall is... just lying on the floor out there, for anybody to pick up, makes it worse.
WESLEY; If she didn't pack, then she must have left in quite the hurry, which could mean she got into an argument with Sylar, or she tried leaving before he could get home and find out. Both possibilities backed up his theory.
"No, thank you." Wesley didn't really eat much these days except when he had an odd food craving, and this was not one of those evenings. He was also still incredibly uncomfortable with how little she chose to wear, but insulting her sense of modesty could wait for another time. Instead he just sat at the table and glanced at one of the windows.
"I suppose it's incredibly beneficial to live here when there are loud curses going on. Probably a good thing we didn't try very hard to get Angel to move."
FAITH; "Yeah, okay." Faith looked down at the apple in her hand for a long moment before shaking her head and taking a bite, then turning back to the fridge. Eggs. She can do eggs, maybe some bacon. Concentrate on the everyday stuff and just let the rest... work itself out in her head before she makes any sudden moves.
The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach ('Julio Richter - Rictor - 616 - more research', 'Layla Miller - Precog? Postcog?' 'Faith – Slayer, Buffy Summers – Slayer', notes crossed out and rewritten in the margins) made it pretty clear that plan sucked, but not like Faith has ever made awesome plans. Sesame Street, like Buffy said. All rushing in and screw the risks.
"Yeah. Plus, kind of hard to vampsit Billy boy in an apartment, I guess." She pulled out the eggs, some cheese, set them on the counter, not looking at Wesley just yet. "Dude is pretty loud, from what I remember."
WESLEY; He glanced at her when she spoke, trying to gauge her body language so he could figure out how best to proceed. She wanted to talk, but she wasn't going to bring it up herself. So maybe it was better to humor her with small talk until he could find an opening that wouldn't make it seem too sudden.
"The cellar does come in handy in these cases. I think he's stopped yelling as much as he was at first. Best not to take your eye off of him for too long, though. Given enough time, he could figure out a way to free himself."
Which made him recall the plan that Buffy had brought to his attention. He could tell Faith about it, but it hardly seemed necessary. "But we'll figure out what to do with him soon."
FAITH; Faith nodded, closing the fridge door again and standing up straight to rummage around the freezer. It's easier when she doesn't look at Wesley. Things are tight in her chest, angry and afraid and a feeling she sure as hell isn't going to label 'sad' or 'heartbroken' or some chick movie bull-crap like that. She trusted Gabe, she got screwed, she'll get over it and deal. End of story.
"Haven't heard him yet. Maybe I'll go down later, make sure he's sitting tight." Subtext here: laugh her ass off at William the Bloody, tied up in Angel's freaking basement. Maybe taunt him or a couple minutes. Misery loves company, and it's not like Spike's never played punching bag for Faith's issues before. It's tradition, and it's not like she's down with tying Wes to a chair and working out her inner rage on his body anymore. Taunting vampires is apparently the kinder, gentler version of torture.
"Figure it's hard. He's supposed to be fighting the good fight, lusting after B, and you got him pre-everything. Can't kill him 'cos he just comes back, can't let him do his thing either. Gotta suck." She glanced over at Wesley for the first time, raised an eyebrow. "Life's a bitch."
WESLEY; That made Wesley shake his head, expression much more humbled as he rested his jaw against his hand. "Yes. It is rather complicated. But then, most things are." It was too bad they couldn't simply imbue Spike with his soul once more, but with Willow no longer working magic, and not having enough connections to really trust someone with that sort of power, they were back to square one.
He actually missed Spike. The Spike he'd gotten to know at Wolfram & Hart, anyway. They had never been what you would call close, but Spike had tried as hard as any of them to save Fred. That meant something. It was unfortunate that they were in this predicament.
"For instance, I can't figure out why it is you decided to have a slumber party here when Angel's probably going to be out all night, and you didn't bother to pack any extra clothes. Planning on having a pillow fight with Illyria, or is there something I should know?"
FAITH; "Jesus Christ." The crack of the egg Faith dropped on the floor seemed much louder than a freaking egg had any right to be, and she grabbed a towel off the counter and dropped down to the floor, ostensibly to clean it up; it's more because Wes takes one look at her face, she might as well spill everything now.
"Yeah, me and Big Blue are gonna braid each other's hair later, tell secrets and eat popcorn. Maybe watch Titanic. I was just late getting off work, that's all. Didn't want to wake Gabe up so I headed here. Nothing to tell." She tried to hide the panic in her voice, and other than a slight tremor she's pretty sure it's not... completely obvious.
"I'm heading home later. No big." She could probably crash at Blair's place, if Wes pushes the issue. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here, and all that. Gabe was expecting her-- she had almost moved to voice, but something held her back; good deal, considering she went from never feeling like she had to lie to him to lying like a dog in the space of a couple days-- but there are always excuses. Hell, she might even use Wes. Because there's no way that ends badly, at all.
WESLEY; He could let it drop, but he had been doing that a lot lately. He hadn't even brought up any of the recent suspicions with Angel because he hoped he wouldn't have to. If this persisted, though...
"Right." He tapped a finger against his knee, watching her for moments at a time before looking away again. She was being clumsy, evasive, and defensive. The first one was new. "Except you're making eggs and you aren't exactly dressed for Tai Chi. So there must be some other reason you suggested we meet. You said you wanted to talk about something."
FAITH; "Hey, if I can kick ass in that freaking dress, I can do Tai Chai in this." Rote protest, because that's new and different. The egg has been clean for a bit now, but Faith stayed down, slumped to a sitting position. The floor's cold against bare thighs, but whatever. This conversation will probably go better if she's already down and doesn't have to look at Wesley while he's judging her. She screwed up, she knows it-- even if she can't say it yet-- and hearing that very British version of 'I told you so' is not something she can deal with right now.
She made a face, fingernails tapping an odd rhythm on the floor. "And I asked about tonight, anyway. Was gonna run back and grab some clothes wh-- later." 'While Gabe is at work' would be the correct end to that statement, but she's not saying that out loud. She not there. Not just yet.
"Wes, I-- you said--" She broke off, scowling. "Never mind."
WESLEY; The way she was handling herself was horribly pitiful, and it felt very wrong to see it. It reminded him too much of her behavior when she broke down around Angel. At least she wasn't torturing him and sobbing this time. Not that sitting on the floor like that made him any less uncomfortable.
Angel ought to be there. He was better at this. He would know what to say, and probably what not to say.
Lowering his hand from his chin, he stared down at her with a puzzled look. "I said...?"
FAITH; The sobbing isn't a done deal, but she'll wait until she's alone. Maybe punch the shit out of Wesley's shower again. Traditions are important for a reason.
Faith moved from the irritating tapping to digging her nails into the meat on her thigh, the dull pain comforting. Still not looking at Wes, she stared down at her legs, wishing she had pants. Not like she gives a damn if Wes sees her buck-ass naked, but this conversation would be easier if she wasn't feeling even more vulnerable than she already is.
In one quick motion she jerked her legs up, tucking them under Angel's shirt and drawing them up to her chest. Give her a couple hours, she'll probably need to punch something when she realizes Wes saw all this-- no makeup, hair up, sitting on the floor like a goddamn cranky toddler-- but right now, she's focused pretty inward.
"You said if I--" She sucked in a deep breath. This is the part where she can't really head back if she moves forward. Sure, trusting Wes with this is about as easy as jumping into a tank of freaking man eating sharks, and betraying Sylar doesn't sit easy. But that book. Slayers aren't supposed to just slay demons; it's about protecting people. Faith gets that now. A couple years behind the curve, but hey. She's a slow learner. And if that book means... "If I changed my mind about Gabe. Not saying I have or anything, but... if I did. What happens then?"
WESLEY; There it was. A very precarious question, and one he didn't answer quickly. Though he'd thought long and hard about it, Wesley never really came to any sort of conclusion. There were too many variables. It depended on Sylar's reaction, on her, on him, on Angel, and even on Buffy.
"I don't know," he murmured softly, not sure if the honestly helped or hindered in this case, but it was all he had. Even in her clearly vulnerable state, he was not so magnificent with the coddling. "I suppose that's your call. On where you'd want to take your life from there. I believe you were headed in the right direction before you returned here. You just...stumbled a bit."
Stumbling. Drowning Buffy. Close enough.
FAITH; Faith nodded. "Can't just give me the easy answers, huh? Always gotta... be honest or whatever." Do the decent thing, Wes, and pretend that laugh didn't sound more like a sob. "Be easier if you just told me what to do. Then I could blame you when things go to shit, at least."
And there's the problem, or at least part of it. Faith wants to be told what to do, how to handle these things; she needs to grow the hell up and learn to do it on her own. And Wesley's never been big on giving Faith what she wants. No one ever really has, other than... the Mayor. And now Sylar. And those ones turned out so well.
"Didn't mean in the general, but thanks for the support. I meant, with Gabe. With you and me. With Angel, B, whatever. I'm looking more immediate here, because I gotta be honest with you, the long term is just way to freaking hard to handle." She laughed again, a short, unamused bark. "Besides, planning for the future is pretty freaking stupid when odds are you don't get one. Faith Lehane, there's not future for you, or whatever."
WESLEY; Even if it was dry humor, that was one of the reasons he was very hesitant to actually make solid suggestions without Angel's input. If it did go horribly wrong, then the blame would be on him. Again. He really couldn't shoulder the responsibility of messing up her only chance a second time. He'd let down too many people in his life.
It was one thing to help her as a Slayer. It was a completely different matter to help her as a person. That was Angel's jurisdiction. Or it used to be, before things got even more complicated.
Sinking down a bit in his chair, Wesley rubbed at his temples. "If you changed your mind about him, seeing it our way, then how you handle it should be clear enough. You leave him. Cut all contact. Change your number if you have to, stay unlisted, whatever you need. If he became a serious threat because of it, there are several people to back you up against him. I can't help you with Angel and Buffy. That is completely out of my league."
FAITH; It's pretty funny, when you think about it. Wes was just about only person who had as many hang-ups as Faith, and half of theirs have to do with each other, and she keeps getting stuck on him helping her. Maybe it's that masochism thing again. The blind leading the blind. Damaged leading the damaged.
"Yeah, 'cos when you're trapped in one place with the guy, changing your number's gonna fix it. Not like he has powers or anything." Don't mind Faith, she's just... bitter. And for once, not at Wesley. Imagine that. "But... look, I'm not saying I'm done, or that there's a problem. But... if there was. Like, not with me. I can take care of myself, that's not an issue."
She bit the inside of her cheek, swallowed hard. "I mean, if something was going down. What happens then?"
WESLEY; He eyed her warily, not really in the mood to exchange barbs with her when he was too busy trying to figure out just what she was getting at. Clearly she had doubts about Sylar or they wouldn't even be having this conversation. But why?
Lord he had a headache. It had been far too long since his last drink.
"I'm afraid you're going to have to be a little more specific, Faith. It's a matter of cause and effect. I can't guess the end result if I don't even know what brought it about."
FAITH; "I--" Faith could see the book in her head. Neat handwriting detailing people with powers in the City, people who might be useful. But Gabe said he had to explain some things, and the book was part of it.
She stood, smoothing her hands down her thighs.
"Nothing. Just trying to figure some shit out, that's all. We're five by five."
The words tasted bitter in her throat, but she owes Gabe this much. Wes called in the Council before bothering to figure shit out. She can do better for Gabe. She has to.
WESLEY; The silence that followed was thick, and it was clear he wanted to say something. There was no way that anything was 'five by five', and she had to know he wasn't stupid enough to believe her. The signs had been building up for awhile now, and her actions up until then had been positively screaming that he was right.
But she wasn't spilling, and he couldn't make her. For now all he knew was that something had changed, and if she wasn't going to tell him, then he would have to figure it out himself.
Tight-lipped, he slowly stood and offered a stiff nod. "All right. I hope I helped, then." His voice was clipped, but cordial at the very least, gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned and looked at the window. It was late.
"I might as well stay the night. If you need anything else, you know where my room is."
Rating; PG-13 [Language].
Characters; Faith [
thesecondslayer] & Wesley [discessum].Summary; Wesley agrees to stop by to check on Spike and talk with Faith. She has some questions, but doesn't answer his. It's a good thing they weren't cursed.
Log;
WESLEY; It didn't take a genius to know that something very drastic had changed for Faith, and it was even more clear that it had to do with Gabriel. No, Sylar. Hiro had reminded him of the difference between the two, after all. And now he wondered if Faith was finally starting to understand it as well.
It had been clear for awhile that Sylar had become less careful with Faith. Especially when watching her practice the Tai Chi, Wesley had noticed the very specific type of injuries she had. A careful eye and experience of his own with a certain lawyer led him to understand they were hardly battle wounds, but he'd kept his opinions to himself, even when it got far too carried away during that curious curse. What hadn't been allowable was the fact that she'd obviously accepted Sylar's blood in order to heal again.
He probably should have been harder on her for that, but by now he knew it would have just forced her to cut him out even more, and he couldn't afford that. Especially if things were bad enough for her to be picking up extra shifts at work, sleeping at Angel's, and actively trying to talk to Wesley. Maybe she was finally starting to see more clearly.
Wesley entered through the cellar so that he could check on Spike in passing before heading through the halls. Angel was probably at the office at this hour, but he hadn't bothered to check before leaving. There was a chance Illyria was somewhere in the mansion, but he would worry about that later. Right now he was supposed to meet Faith.
When he entered the kitchen, he tensed slightly. Was that one of Angel's shirts?
"Clothes in the wash?" he asked dryly, arms folded across his chest and one eyebrow lifted just a bit.
FAITH; It had probably been a mistake, saying anything to Wesley. Because he'll want to know why, and Faith's got nothing to give right now. She can't even admit in a freaking journal-- to herself-- exactly what's going on. How is she supposed to say anything to Wes? Especially after he bawled her out about the blood during the meteor shower. It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him to buzz off, it was a curse and it's not like she let Gabe inject her again, but something-- a recently discovered sense of shame, simple masochism, whatever-- had her keep her mouth shut and just take it.
She very nearly jumped when he spoke, coming way too close to banging her head on the fridge. Rubbing a hand over her eyes and grabbing the first thing that looked semi-appetizing, she backed away, shutting the refrigerator door as quietly as possible.
"More like it was this or nothing. I didn't pack-- anyway. Just figured Angel'd rather I snag something of his than walk around balls out naked." She shrugged, expression a little defensive. "I'm gonna wash it and give it back."
The defensiveness melted into awkward quickly, Faith ducking her head and staring at the floor. She doesn't do conciliatory well, is better at moving on and just hoping people deal or leave her be. But they're all stuck here, and Wes... for whatever jacked up reason, the guy's opinion matters. "...You want something to eat? I was gonna try for eggs or something. Figure even I can't screw those up too bad. And they're just eggs, even if I don't do it right they'll be a meal or whatever."
She's nearly vibrating with contained energy, and the knowledge that the crappy little notebook she chucked at the wall is... just lying on the floor out there, for anybody to pick up, makes it worse.
WESLEY; If she didn't pack, then she must have left in quite the hurry, which could mean she got into an argument with Sylar, or she tried leaving before he could get home and find out. Both possibilities backed up his theory.
"No, thank you." Wesley didn't really eat much these days except when he had an odd food craving, and this was not one of those evenings. He was also still incredibly uncomfortable with how little she chose to wear, but insulting her sense of modesty could wait for another time. Instead he just sat at the table and glanced at one of the windows.
"I suppose it's incredibly beneficial to live here when there are loud curses going on. Probably a good thing we didn't try very hard to get Angel to move."
FAITH; "Yeah, okay." Faith looked down at the apple in her hand for a long moment before shaking her head and taking a bite, then turning back to the fridge. Eggs. She can do eggs, maybe some bacon. Concentrate on the everyday stuff and just let the rest... work itself out in her head before she makes any sudden moves.
The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach ('Julio Richter - Rictor - 616 - more research', 'Layla Miller - Precog? Postcog?' 'Faith – Slayer, Buffy Summers – Slayer', notes crossed out and rewritten in the margins) made it pretty clear that plan sucked, but not like Faith has ever made awesome plans. Sesame Street, like Buffy said. All rushing in and screw the risks.
"Yeah. Plus, kind of hard to vampsit Billy boy in an apartment, I guess." She pulled out the eggs, some cheese, set them on the counter, not looking at Wesley just yet. "Dude is pretty loud, from what I remember."
WESLEY; He glanced at her when she spoke, trying to gauge her body language so he could figure out how best to proceed. She wanted to talk, but she wasn't going to bring it up herself. So maybe it was better to humor her with small talk until he could find an opening that wouldn't make it seem too sudden.
"The cellar does come in handy in these cases. I think he's stopped yelling as much as he was at first. Best not to take your eye off of him for too long, though. Given enough time, he could figure out a way to free himself."
Which made him recall the plan that Buffy had brought to his attention. He could tell Faith about it, but it hardly seemed necessary. "But we'll figure out what to do with him soon."
FAITH; Faith nodded, closing the fridge door again and standing up straight to rummage around the freezer. It's easier when she doesn't look at Wesley. Things are tight in her chest, angry and afraid and a feeling she sure as hell isn't going to label 'sad' or 'heartbroken' or some chick movie bull-crap like that. She trusted Gabe, she got screwed, she'll get over it and deal. End of story.
"Haven't heard him yet. Maybe I'll go down later, make sure he's sitting tight." Subtext here: laugh her ass off at William the Bloody, tied up in Angel's freaking basement. Maybe taunt him or a couple minutes. Misery loves company, and it's not like Spike's never played punching bag for Faith's issues before. It's tradition, and it's not like she's down with tying Wes to a chair and working out her inner rage on his body anymore. Taunting vampires is apparently the kinder, gentler version of torture.
"Figure it's hard. He's supposed to be fighting the good fight, lusting after B, and you got him pre-everything. Can't kill him 'cos he just comes back, can't let him do his thing either. Gotta suck." She glanced over at Wesley for the first time, raised an eyebrow. "Life's a bitch."
WESLEY; That made Wesley shake his head, expression much more humbled as he rested his jaw against his hand. "Yes. It is rather complicated. But then, most things are." It was too bad they couldn't simply imbue Spike with his soul once more, but with Willow no longer working magic, and not having enough connections to really trust someone with that sort of power, they were back to square one.
He actually missed Spike. The Spike he'd gotten to know at Wolfram & Hart, anyway. They had never been what you would call close, but Spike had tried as hard as any of them to save Fred. That meant something. It was unfortunate that they were in this predicament.
"For instance, I can't figure out why it is you decided to have a slumber party here when Angel's probably going to be out all night, and you didn't bother to pack any extra clothes. Planning on having a pillow fight with Illyria, or is there something I should know?"
FAITH; "Jesus Christ." The crack of the egg Faith dropped on the floor seemed much louder than a freaking egg had any right to be, and she grabbed a towel off the counter and dropped down to the floor, ostensibly to clean it up; it's more because Wes takes one look at her face, she might as well spill everything now.
"Yeah, me and Big Blue are gonna braid each other's hair later, tell secrets and eat popcorn. Maybe watch Titanic. I was just late getting off work, that's all. Didn't want to wake Gabe up so I headed here. Nothing to tell." She tried to hide the panic in her voice, and other than a slight tremor she's pretty sure it's not... completely obvious.
"I'm heading home later. No big." She could probably crash at Blair's place, if Wes pushes the issue. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here, and all that. Gabe was expecting her-- she had almost moved to voice, but something held her back; good deal, considering she went from never feeling like she had to lie to him to lying like a dog in the space of a couple days-- but there are always excuses. Hell, she might even use Wes. Because there's no way that ends badly, at all.
WESLEY; He could let it drop, but he had been doing that a lot lately. He hadn't even brought up any of the recent suspicions with Angel because he hoped he wouldn't have to. If this persisted, though...
"Right." He tapped a finger against his knee, watching her for moments at a time before looking away again. She was being clumsy, evasive, and defensive. The first one was new. "Except you're making eggs and you aren't exactly dressed for Tai Chi. So there must be some other reason you suggested we meet. You said you wanted to talk about something."
FAITH; "Hey, if I can kick ass in that freaking dress, I can do Tai Chai in this." Rote protest, because that's new and different. The egg has been clean for a bit now, but Faith stayed down, slumped to a sitting position. The floor's cold against bare thighs, but whatever. This conversation will probably go better if she's already down and doesn't have to look at Wesley while he's judging her. She screwed up, she knows it-- even if she can't say it yet-- and hearing that very British version of 'I told you so' is not something she can deal with right now.
She made a face, fingernails tapping an odd rhythm on the floor. "And I asked about tonight, anyway. Was gonna run back and grab some clothes wh-- later." 'While Gabe is at work' would be the correct end to that statement, but she's not saying that out loud. She not there. Not just yet.
"Wes, I-- you said--" She broke off, scowling. "Never mind."
WESLEY; The way she was handling herself was horribly pitiful, and it felt very wrong to see it. It reminded him too much of her behavior when she broke down around Angel. At least she wasn't torturing him and sobbing this time. Not that sitting on the floor like that made him any less uncomfortable.
Angel ought to be there. He was better at this. He would know what to say, and probably what not to say.
Lowering his hand from his chin, he stared down at her with a puzzled look. "I said...?"
FAITH; The sobbing isn't a done deal, but she'll wait until she's alone. Maybe punch the shit out of Wesley's shower again. Traditions are important for a reason.
Faith moved from the irritating tapping to digging her nails into the meat on her thigh, the dull pain comforting. Still not looking at Wes, she stared down at her legs, wishing she had pants. Not like she gives a damn if Wes sees her buck-ass naked, but this conversation would be easier if she wasn't feeling even more vulnerable than she already is.
In one quick motion she jerked her legs up, tucking them under Angel's shirt and drawing them up to her chest. Give her a couple hours, she'll probably need to punch something when she realizes Wes saw all this-- no makeup, hair up, sitting on the floor like a goddamn cranky toddler-- but right now, she's focused pretty inward.
"You said if I--" She sucked in a deep breath. This is the part where she can't really head back if she moves forward. Sure, trusting Wes with this is about as easy as jumping into a tank of freaking man eating sharks, and betraying Sylar doesn't sit easy. But that book. Slayers aren't supposed to just slay demons; it's about protecting people. Faith gets that now. A couple years behind the curve, but hey. She's a slow learner. And if that book means... "If I changed my mind about Gabe. Not saying I have or anything, but... if I did. What happens then?"
WESLEY; There it was. A very precarious question, and one he didn't answer quickly. Though he'd thought long and hard about it, Wesley never really came to any sort of conclusion. There were too many variables. It depended on Sylar's reaction, on her, on him, on Angel, and even on Buffy.
"I don't know," he murmured softly, not sure if the honestly helped or hindered in this case, but it was all he had. Even in her clearly vulnerable state, he was not so magnificent with the coddling. "I suppose that's your call. On where you'd want to take your life from there. I believe you were headed in the right direction before you returned here. You just...stumbled a bit."
Stumbling. Drowning Buffy. Close enough.
FAITH; Faith nodded. "Can't just give me the easy answers, huh? Always gotta... be honest or whatever." Do the decent thing, Wes, and pretend that laugh didn't sound more like a sob. "Be easier if you just told me what to do. Then I could blame you when things go to shit, at least."
And there's the problem, or at least part of it. Faith wants to be told what to do, how to handle these things; she needs to grow the hell up and learn to do it on her own. And Wesley's never been big on giving Faith what she wants. No one ever really has, other than... the Mayor. And now Sylar. And those ones turned out so well.
"Didn't mean in the general, but thanks for the support. I meant, with Gabe. With you and me. With Angel, B, whatever. I'm looking more immediate here, because I gotta be honest with you, the long term is just way to freaking hard to handle." She laughed again, a short, unamused bark. "Besides, planning for the future is pretty freaking stupid when odds are you don't get one. Faith Lehane, there's not future for you, or whatever."
WESLEY; Even if it was dry humor, that was one of the reasons he was very hesitant to actually make solid suggestions without Angel's input. If it did go horribly wrong, then the blame would be on him. Again. He really couldn't shoulder the responsibility of messing up her only chance a second time. He'd let down too many people in his life.
It was one thing to help her as a Slayer. It was a completely different matter to help her as a person. That was Angel's jurisdiction. Or it used to be, before things got even more complicated.
Sinking down a bit in his chair, Wesley rubbed at his temples. "If you changed your mind about him, seeing it our way, then how you handle it should be clear enough. You leave him. Cut all contact. Change your number if you have to, stay unlisted, whatever you need. If he became a serious threat because of it, there are several people to back you up against him. I can't help you with Angel and Buffy. That is completely out of my league."
FAITH; It's pretty funny, when you think about it. Wes was just about only person who had as many hang-ups as Faith, and half of theirs have to do with each other, and she keeps getting stuck on him helping her. Maybe it's that masochism thing again. The blind leading the blind. Damaged leading the damaged.
"Yeah, 'cos when you're trapped in one place with the guy, changing your number's gonna fix it. Not like he has powers or anything." Don't mind Faith, she's just... bitter. And for once, not at Wesley. Imagine that. "But... look, I'm not saying I'm done, or that there's a problem. But... if there was. Like, not with me. I can take care of myself, that's not an issue."
She bit the inside of her cheek, swallowed hard. "I mean, if something was going down. What happens then?"
WESLEY; He eyed her warily, not really in the mood to exchange barbs with her when he was too busy trying to figure out just what she was getting at. Clearly she had doubts about Sylar or they wouldn't even be having this conversation. But why?
Lord he had a headache. It had been far too long since his last drink.
"I'm afraid you're going to have to be a little more specific, Faith. It's a matter of cause and effect. I can't guess the end result if I don't even know what brought it about."
FAITH; "I--" Faith could see the book in her head. Neat handwriting detailing people with powers in the City, people who might be useful. But Gabe said he had to explain some things, and the book was part of it.
She stood, smoothing her hands down her thighs.
"Nothing. Just trying to figure some shit out, that's all. We're five by five."
The words tasted bitter in her throat, but she owes Gabe this much. Wes called in the Council before bothering to figure shit out. She can do better for Gabe. She has to.
WESLEY; The silence that followed was thick, and it was clear he wanted to say something. There was no way that anything was 'five by five', and she had to know he wasn't stupid enough to believe her. The signs had been building up for awhile now, and her actions up until then had been positively screaming that he was right.
But she wasn't spilling, and he couldn't make her. For now all he knew was that something had changed, and if she wasn't going to tell him, then he would have to figure it out himself.
Tight-lipped, he slowly stood and offered a stiff nod. "All right. I hope I helped, then." His voice was clipped, but cordial at the very least, gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned and looked at the window. It was late.
"I might as well stay the night. If you need anything else, you know where my room is."