Home / Fan Fiction / Angel / Epiphany / Probation

Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe of the rights of Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy or any other copyright holders of Angel.

Probation
by The Brat Queen and Buffybot

Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.

Rated: PG

Summary: A week after Angel and Wes's return to LA, a visitor comes to call (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place after "And the Pursuit of Happiness")

Thanks to: Wolfling for the beta read.

Her arm throbs. Blood trails from the wound onto the floor as she kicks his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling. Somewhere to her right there are the sounds of more scuffling, and of bodies hitting the stone walls, the floor. Angelus turns to face her, still on his knees, and sends rapid sword thrusts at her, all of which she parries almost effortlessly. Her last stroke manages to pin his sword to the table, but he is quick, and backhands her out of his way. He grabs the sword and swings it at her head. She blocks, and kicks him in the stomach, doubling him over, and takes advantage of his momentary incapacitation to flip over him to regroup. She raises her sword, readying for more...

...It becomes a stake, held in the hands of Angelus as he stabs down, skewering Angel's leg in a single strike, making Angel scream as though the soul were being torn out of his body. As though he's dying and it's the last sound he'll ever be allowed to make before...

...She spins and swings her sword, but Angelus blocks easily, disarming her with the blow. She tries to retrieve it, but the vampire is quicker, stomping on the blade as her hand reaches for it. He elbows her in the face, knocking her back onto a stone table, which shatters to pieces on the atrium floor...

...Knocking Angelus back onto the floor of the cave, with Angel standing over him looking more powerful and deadly than the vampire could ever hope to be. Angel, who straddles Angelus with a look of deep satisfaction in his eyes. A knife appears. The blade flashes in the light, slicing the vampire's throat as though he were nothing but a sacrifice, a sacrifice the vampire is forced to submit to as Angel bends down and presses his lips to his throat...

...Angelus plays with his sword, idly pointing it at her face, as she kneels before him. She can feel the fear running through her. This is it. This is the end.

("Are you real? Actually from the Powers?")

"Now that's everything, huh?" he drawls. "No weapons, no friends... no hope."

She closes her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

("You know how I can tell you're not lying? You're nervous.")

"Take all that away, and what's left?" He asks, mockingly. She opens her eyes suddenly and sees her reflection in his sword. Blond hair, tanned skin, sleep deprived circles under her eyes. She gasps, horrified, even as the words come unbidden from her mouth.

"Me."

("You made the wrong choice.")

Faith awoke from her dream with a gasp, images still floating through her head; pulse pounding to beat the band. After taking a few deep ragged breaths, she disentangled herself from her sweat soaked sheets and made her way shakily to the small sink in the corner of her cell, treading quietly so as not to wake her cellmate. It would be a real hoot having to explain nightmares, not to mention Slayer nightmares. Best to keep it to herself. Not that they were bosom buddies to begin with.

She sloshed cold water over her face, trying to make sense of the scattered images in her head. It'd been a long, long time since she'd had a dream like that. She had begun to think whatever it was that gave them to her couldn't find her behind all the stone and barbed wire. And she was glad for that. But now, blammo! What the hell did that all mean? And why was she in the sequel to Buffy Freaky Friday? The nightmares from the original were finally fading, and now this? And all that Angel stuff... she closed her eyes and shook her head. Damned if she knew what it was all about. She barked a quiet laugh. Where was a Watcher when you needed him?

The buzzer down the hall sounded, pulling Faith out of her reverie. Must be later than I thought, she mused, as she sat on her bed and laced up her shoes, readying herself for the morning march to gray oatmeal and watered down coffee. Or maybe dirt. Tasted like it, anyway. Her cellmate groggily rubbed her eyes and began readying herself as well. Neither spoke. Faith had found quiet was the best policy when you were five hundred times stronger than the rest of the people around you. Especially if solitary wasn't your cup of tea.

The cell doors opened, and the women of cellblock C began filing down the hall, guards monitoring the line of silent inmates. As they passed the first guard station, Faith felt a tug at her arm and looked at the large uniformed woman holding onto her shoulder in surprise.

"Not you," the guard said stiffly. "You're wanted in the warden's office."

"So let me get this straight," Faith said, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You're letting me out on good behavior?"

Warden John Simkins, as it said so shinily on his nameplate, looked back at her with an expression so serious Faith had to doubt its sincerity. "Yes," he said simply.

"Ok, not that I should really be arguing here," Faith said, "but I thought I wasn't up for parole for... well, a long time or something."

"They have reconsidered your case," the Warden answered, and Faith wondered how 'they' could do that. And who they were, while she was at it. "You will be released and be required to obtain employment. Said employment will be something in the interest of the community."

God, he talks like a stiff, she thought. In a way the guy reminded her of an overweight Wesley.

"You mean like putting up insulation in old ladies' houses or something?" she asked skeptically, really hoping it didn't come to that. But then again, better than the cell and cheap denim combo she had going on now.

"That is one option, yes," Simkins answered, and rustled around in his desk for some papers. "Here is a list of a number of acceptable places of employment. You are required to find yourself a job within two weeks time, and your employer must send us weekly progress reports." He handed her a stack of forms. "Please have them complete these, in triplicate, and deliver them to your parole officer as soon as you are hired."

Faith took the stack, still waiting for the catch. Or for that guy on TV to jump out and yell "You're on Candid Camera!" She would have to deck someone for that, demerits or no. But he never came. She was being ushered to the door, down some corridors, given back the stuff she had when she was arrested, to a changing room, and out the front gate onto the street.

Once there, she stood for a good long time, staring at the sky.

It was an hour later, and Faith hadn't gotten very far. She wandered away from the prison, not noticing where she was going, just enjoying the clean air, the ability to walk around wherever she wanted to. She found her way to a small park, bought a hotdog from one of those street vendors, and sat down on a bench to eat.

Had hotdogs always been this good? Or pink? And the mystery toppings! She sighed with pleasure at the taste. She finished off her meal, crumpled up the napkin and played with it idly as she thought through her situation. She had to get a job, and soon before the cops hauled her back in. That should be fun. No experience and a record to boot. Looked like insulation and old ladies. She leaned her head against the back of the bench and shut her eyes.

Why was she out here anyway? She was in for murder. They didn't let you go just 'cause. Someone must've pulled some strings or something, but if they had, where were they? She suspected the Council, they had let Buffy visit her and everything, but knowing them, they would've swooped in with a mission or an assassin squad right away, not let her wander around like this. Maybe it was those Wolfram and whatever lawyer guys? They certainly had the rep and resources. But again, where were they? If they had a job, she should've been contacted by now.

She sighed again, this time out of frustration. She had to come up with some kind of plan, and soon. She needed food, and clothes, well underwear at least, and a place to stay. Not gonna happen on... she rustled around in her jacket pocket. Seven dollars and forty-eight cents. There was always the park bench sleeping option, but she didn't relish getting kicked out at midnight by some over-eager cop who might recognize her.

She started to search through her other pockets, hoping she had left a ten in there and missed it somehow, when her hand came upon an envelope that she had hastily shoved in there as she was leaving the jail. She pulled it out and removed the card. It was super dinky; there was some kind of airbrushed cat on the front sitting in a garden full of pastel flowers. "For you on your Birthday" was written in impossibly scrolly letters, and glittery to boot. She opened it up, and her eyes scanned past the stupid inspirational greeting to the simple signature at the bottom. "Angel." She had gotten it months ago, though nowhere near her birthday. And she hadn't seen Angel in ages. Last time he visited was... she couldn't remember. Everything on the inside seemed like an eternity. The card had been a surprise. And she hadn't heard from him since.

She hastily stuffed the card back in her pocket and picked up the manila envelope next to her filled with employment forms and lists. This was no time for reminiscing or wondering why someone else had stopped giving a shit. Not like it was a new thing, and not like she couldn't deal. She pulled out the list of "potential jobs" and scanned it for something viable. Road worker, no... animal shelter, no... child care... Child care? They let people right out of jail take care of children? Yeesh. She continued to scan; no, no, no... Annoyed, she shoved the papers back in their sheathing and hastily pushed herself off the bench. Maybe walking around would help, 'cause sitting here certainly wasn't.

Well, she had walked. And walked, and walked and walked some more. It was dark and she was no closer to community service or a place to stay. Faith wondered if the Council could set her up with something. More likely she'd call, they'd say right-o and send a team of gun-toting loonies to her "present location." Too bad really, that was about as community service as you got. And she didn't think walking in to the parole officer and saying Oh yeah, I saved the world a couple of times, does that count? would work too well.

I could call Buffy or Giles, she thought idly, than immediately dismissed it. Yeah Buffy had come to see her, but it was only to get answers and to make sure her perfectness was intact. Giles would probably be helpful and all but the last thing she wanted to do was go and look helpless in front of Buffy and the rest of the zoo crew. Or whatever they were calling themselves these days. There would be speeches. And hugs. And no way.

Lost in thought, Faith wandered down some side streets, not paying close attention to where she was going, or her surroundings until she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hey baby, wanna date?" A snaggle-toothed woman, skimpy clothes hanging rattily off her frame smiled at her.

"Sorry, not exactly my..." Faith started before she got that sense. One she hadn't felt in a long time. "Actually," she said, pooching out her full lips in a seductive smile, and sauntering backwards towards the adjacent building and some trashcans. "You look like you were made for me."

The woman moved closer, and started to snarl as her features shifted, fangs elongating. Faith merely continued smiling, and then shot her leg out, taking the vampire full on in the stomach, and sending her flying into the brick wall behind her. Faith turned hastily, and grabbed an old wooden picture frame out of the trash. She broke it in half with her hands and shrugged at the vampire who was looking confused and trying to right herself.

"See honey, you picked the wrong girl for a snack tonight," she drawled, tossing her makeshift stake up and down. "Don't you know a Slayer when you see one?" And with that she tossed the stake into the vampire's heart, incinerating her. "Now that's what I call community service," she said to no one in particular, and headed back onto the main street to continue her wandering, though at a jauntier pace.

This is what she was made for. No hoping for a normal life, like some people. No insulation and no child care. This was her skill, her specialty. Now, if only she could make some money off of it or get someone to tell her parole... officer... that... she.... Faith smacked herself on the forehead with the heel of her hand. Of course! She reached back into her pocket and pulled out the envelope from Angel. Hyperion Hotel. Los Angeles.

Shouldn't be too hard to find.

Faith whistled long and low as she arrived at the front of the hotel. Well, someone was certainly moving up in the world. And it definitely looked like there was room for her to stay, unless Angel was keeping an army in there. Which was not entirely out of the question. She took a deep breath. This shouldn't be too bad. So she was imposing. The worst thing he could do was say no, and she'd be no worse off than she was to start with. She pulled a pen out of her pocket and quickly scrawled on the back of one of the "preferred places of employment" sheets, and then walked through the front door.

She couldn't hold back yet another whistle. It was big. Ritzy. Not the sort of place she'd usually be able to walk into without being kicked out five minutes later. She twirled slowly, taking in her surroundings, and stopped abruptly as she saw Angel, emerging from what she supposed was the basement. She held up her piece of paper, and gave him a slow smile.

"Saw this sign in the window," she said, holding up her homemade "Help Wanted" sign. "So, when can I start?"

Angel froze, staring at the young woman in front of him.

"Faith," he said. It seemed like a reasonable start. A lot of other things suggested themselves but he decided to stick with the basics. "Don't take this the wrong way or anything 'cause I get this all the time and it really pisses me off but - are you evil again?"

"Don't you mean still?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Angel stepped forward, keeping a wary eye on her. "Okay. Are you evil... still?"

"The state of California seems to think no," she replied. She walked down the few steps into the lobby. "Got the paperwork to prove it. Kinda boring but you can read it if you want."

Angel took this in. "Your paperwork is a help wanted sign?"

Faith's smile widened. "On the other side, doofus. You haven't changed at all have you?"

Angel winced. He knew there was no chance Faith knew what was going on - or was there? "Guess that all depends on your point of view," he said. He shoved his hands into his pockets, closing some of the distance between them. "So - they let you out? On what? Good behavior?"

Faith shrugged. "You got me. They handed me a stack of papers told me to get a job and get out. So here I am."

"Here you are," Angel repeated. It seemed... fantastical. He hadn't seen Faith in years, a fact which ratcheted a wave of guilt through him. Or at least part of him. Still - "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too," she said, twitching a lock of hair away from her eyes in a deft and - nervous? - motion. "So... got any openings here or what?"

"You were serious?" Angel asked. He freed a hand, gesturing towards the paper. "You actually want a job? With me?"

Faith walked over to one of the red couches, plopping down and making herself comfortable. "Look, I have to get a job or I'm back in the pokey. It was this or repainting churches."

Angel smirked. "Can't have that. Tried it once m'self. Didn't work out too well."

Faith blinked. "Do I wanna know?"

"Probably not," Angel told her. He checked the clock. Wes wasn't due back for a while. And Faith looked like - "You look like shit. Want a beer?"

"Sure, yeah, whatever," she said. "It's been a while. Got one here 'cause for some strange reason they confiscated my fake ID."

"I think I can wrestle up something," Angel replied. He jerked his head toward the staircase. "Come on."

Faith got up, slapping her hands against her knees as though dusting them off. "Alrighty then. Always were a good host."

"Not really," Angel said, leading the way. "But thanks. How'd you find the place anyway?"

Faith pulled a card and envelope out of her pocket, waving it in front of his face. Angel blinked for a moment, then felt a jolt of recognition. "Word to the wise: after age five kittens not usually the biggest hit. And you missed my birthday by three months. But thanks."

"It was on sale," Angel mumbled. "And - and look we're here."

"This your room?" Faith asked, walking ahead of him through the open suite door. She ran her hand along the TV stand, lingering over the DVD player. "Nice."

Angel quickly scanned the area, looking for anything that screamed Wes's name. After a moment of thought, he ambled over to the doors to the actual bedroom and gently pulled them closed. "Yeah, well - had to find some place to call home. Um - beer's in the fridge. Help yourself to anything else you want. Blood's mine."

"Thanks for the update," she said, giving him a dry look. She opened up the fridge door and looked in. "Hey - is this Chinese?" Before Angel could answer she grabbed the white paper carton of Wes's leftover Mu Shu Pork and cracked it open. "Got a fork?"

"Silverware drawer," Angel answered, then pointed at it when he realized Faith wouldn't know where that was. He made a mental note to buy Wes more food before he got back. "Glasses are in the cabinet if you want. Plates too."

There was a sound of a pop as Faith popped open a beer bottle with her teeth and spit the cap into the garbage. "I'm good, thanks," she said, grabbing a fork as she walked back into the living room. "You not having a beer?"

Angel steeled himself for a moment then nodded. "Actually I'm thinking I could use one." Making sure Faith's back was to him, he carefully opened the fridge himself and uncapped a bottle. He relaxed when he managed to do it without snapping the glass in the process. "So how long have you been out?"

Faith looked at her bare wrist as though checking a watch. "Hours? Just guessing here. They let me out sometime this afternoon."

Angel found himself feeling touched that she would come to him first. He sat down on the arm of a free chair. "Well - that's good, right? Did your time, get to move on to the next step?"

Faith shrugged, shoveling more food in her mouth. "I guess so. Hopefully the next step will be better than the last one."

Angel watched the last of the pork vanish under Faith's attentions. "You know there's more where that came from. In fact we're not that far from a place where I could get you a whole pig. Guess they didn't exactly feed you right?"

"Well I got fed, just not sure what," Faith told him. "They gonna cook that whole pig?"

Angel smirked. "Well if you're going to be all picky about it."

"Sorry, not really one for the food poisoning," Faith replied. "But if it's too much trouble I did see a carton in there that looked like white rice."

"Yeah, that's actually leftovers from a case," Angel told her. "I don't think you're gonna want that for seconds. We got a pizza place on speed dial though."

"Why are you..." Faith shook her head. "Nevermind. Pizza sounds fine."

Angel gestured for her to help herself to the phone if she wanted. "Why am I what?"

"Why are you keeping leftover body parts or whatever in small Chinese food cartons in your fridge?" Faith asked as she headed towards the phone.

"It's number three," Angel told her, meaning the speed dial. "And we were out of baggies."

"Ah," Faith held up her finger as she placed her order. "You want anything?"

Angel thought about it. "Throw another large pie in there. Couldn't hurt."

Faith added that to the order, then hung up the phone. "So where is the rest of the gang anyway?"

Angel stalled for time by fishing out his wallet and putting it on the coffee table. "Um - yeah. Everybody. Well Gunn - I told you about him, right? He's out doing some training. And... Cordy and Wes are busy."

"Cool," Faith said, sitting back down on the couch and propping her feet up on the table. Her boots made a thick clunking sound against the wood. "So - you know what I've been doing. What've you been up to?"

"Been busy," Angel said. He slid down into his own chair and took a sip of his beer. Then decided to keep going as he slowly drained the bottle. Once done, he found Faith staring at him. "Um - little of this, little of that. You're not here to kill me, are you?"

"Dude, what's with you?" Faith asked. "You would think I'd come up with a better plan than getting you to buy me pizza first."

"Better than a single blank shot on the hopes I won't shoot you twice?" Angel found himself - his new self - teasing.

Faith leaned back and took a sip of her beer. "Yeah that was a jackass plan. But no. Not here to kill you. I now the whole letting me out of jail thing seems made up, but do you really think I'd type out all this paperwork?"

Angel laughed. "Okay, you've got me there." He reached out and pulled the papers closer to him, quickly skimming them. "So you really have to get a job, huh? Well you're welcome here. You know that, right?"

"Now I do," Faith smiled at him. "Would it be too much to ask for a room too? Kind of a work-study, work-live sort of thing?"

"I dunno," Angel said, making a show of looking around at the hotel surrounding them. "We may not have the space."

"Closet's fine," Faith told him, refusing to be baited. "So, boss, what's our first gig?"

"You can have your own room," Angel said, giving her a look. "And - um. Yeah. That. How are your redemption skills going?"

Faith shook her head, laughing. "You're kidding, right? Guess that all depends. You mean how am I doing or you asking me to do the AA sponsor thing for someone?"

"How are you doing?" Angel asked, seriously. "Because if you're going to stay here... it's going to be a challenge. A big one."

Faith hung her head. "Getting better," she finally said. "Had a lot of time to think. I know what I'm supposed to be doing. Sometimes it's scary, sometimes it's not. Sometimes it just is. You know how it goes."

"Yeah, that I do," Angel said. He thought back over the last few months, running his thumb up and down the side of his beer bottle so he wouldn't have to meet Faith's eyes. "Faith - we need to talk. About me. This... may not work out."

Faith frowned, confused. "Are you about to give me the 'it's not you it's me' speech? 'Cause I wasn't aware any relationship had started."

"What?" Angel looked up. "Oh. No. Not that. Except - it is me. All of me. Um - I've been through some changes." He glanced back towards the bedroom doors. "Actually more than a few."

Faith reached out and patted his knee. "We call that puberty. You know, when you grow hair where there was no hair before. It's okay. I'm sure we can find you a pamphlet."

"I merged with Angelus," he told her. He felt the beer bottle start to crack underneath his fingers. He put it down on the table and met her eyes again. "I was dying, the Powers gave me a chance, this was the option I picked."

"What?" Faith sat back, her eyebrows furrowing together. "Wanna run that by me again?"

Angel noticed the distance she put between them and sighed. He stood up, walking away so he could add to it. "In the past couple of months I was... sick. My vampire side - my Angelus side - was getting stronger. Taking over. Making me lose control. Making me... I hurt people. People who probably didn't deserve it."

Faith sat up, turning so she could watch him as he moved. When she said nothing, he decided to continue.

"It got worse and worse until I couldn't take it anymore," Angel told her. He leaned against Wes's desk, taking support from the thought of him if nothing else. "Until finally I went to sleep one day and couldn't wake up."

"Been there," Faith mumbled.

Angel continued, terrified of losing his momentum. "I got hauled in to do a trial for the Powers. They told me I had one shot. One chance to prove myself. To prove if I was Angel or Angelus."

Faith leaned forward in rapt attention.

"I... " Angel faltered, uncertain of how to explain it. "I fought - "

"Yourself," Faith finished.

Angel looked up at her. "Yeah. How did you - "

"Keep going," she encouraged.

Again Angel hesitated, but he decided the truth was the only way to go. "They wanted me to choose. To pick one or the other. Soul or no soul. Angel or Angelus. Good or evil. Forever."

"And you picked both," Faith said, realization dawning.

"Yeah," Angel said. "I picked both."

"And that means...?" Faith asked, motioning in the air as though she could draw the explanation out of him.

Angel gave a bark of laughter. "That I'm still working on. I lost my job, I can tell you that much. Told the Powers to go fuck themselves, I wasn't going to be their whipping boy anymore."

Faith gave a short laugh of her own. "Good for you. But now I have to ask - are you evil again?"

Angel held up his hands innocently. "Not evil. Just... not good either. I'm me."

Faith slumped back against the couch cushions. "Now that I get. We seem to be two peas in a pod."

Angel took her in. "A Slayer who's done a little jail time for murder? Yeah, guess you would get it, huh?"

Faith thought for a second. "So - is that why your gang's unavailable? They couldn't take it?"

Angel shook his head. "Gunn was fine with it. Wes... more than fine with it. Cordy, on the other hand, " he sighed. "Let's just say that when you walked in for a second I thought maybe she hired you."

"Wes was okay with it?" she asked, incredulous. "Color me surprised. I would've pictured him as the first one to be grabbing the stake."

"Me too," Angel told her. He ran his hand along the edge of Wesley's desk. "But no. He encouraged me." A soft, fond smile shaped his lips. "Actually said he was proud of me."

"We're talking about Wesley, right?" Faith asked. She held a hand up in the air. "About yay high, glasses, grampa clothes?"

"Height's the same," Angel agreed. "Glasses and clothes are a little different. But yeah."

"What'd you do?" Faith asked. "Take him on the Sally Jesse Makeover Show? Coming up this week: My Watcher's a Weiner!"

"Don't - " Angel started, then immediately reined in the urge to snap at Faith as he had at Cordy. "He's not the same guy you knew. And you're gonna have to get along with him if you want to stay here."

"Okay," Faith said, throwing both of her hands up into the air. "Sorry, didn't realize you guys were so BFF. All in good fun, ya know?"

Angel frowned. "Didn't realize we were so... what?"

Faith chuckled. "BFF. Best Friends Forever?"

Angel glanced back towards the bedroom again. "Oh. That. Yeah. Um - wait you didn't know?"

"Didn't know what?" Faith asked, slowly. "I've been in jail, remember?"

Angel pushed himself away from the desk, going over to sit on the back of the couch. He studied her face. "I always figured you knew. Or at least maybe guessed."

"Guessed what?" Faith asked. "Angel, what are you talking about?"

"Angel, there was a very irate gentleman downstairs demanding money for pizza," Wesley's voice broke into the conversation before Angel could answer. Angel looked up to see Wes coming in with two pizza boxes in hand. "Now should I be chiding Gunn for the practical joke or thanking you for - " Wes halted, freezing in place as he saw Faith.

Angel stood up. "Wes - "

"What," Wesley asked, his voice nearly vampire-soft, "is she doing in my home?"

Faith sat up, looking indignant. An angry reply shaped her lips until she caught sight of Angel's face and quickly aborted it for a tentative "Wesley, I -"

"Not talking to you," Wes said, curtly. He dumped the pizzas unceremoniously onto the coffee table. "Angel, an explanation."

"She got out of jail - " Angel started.

"Yes, I can see that," Wesley told him. "Why is she here now?"

"I have paperwork," Faith said, grabbing at the pile and holding it up for Wes to see. "I needed a job and - "

"Why does she persist on speaking to me?" Wesley asked, addressing the question to Angel.

Angel felt a flicker of anger on Faith's behalf. "She got out on good behavior, Wes."

"For murder?" Wesley asked. "It's been two years. Jaywalkers spend more time behind bars than that."

"Actually I pointed that out myself," Faith interjected. "But here I am anyway. Wouldn't even let me stay for breakfast."

"Why on earth would someone think it was a wise idea to let you roam free?" Wes asked. "Did the world lack in torture? Were there far too many innocent people wandering about with no one to kill them? Did - " Wes stopped, a look of horror crossing his face.

"She's not here for me," Angel said, quickly. "I checked."

"Took her word for it, did you?" Wes said. "Well there's a comfort."

"Look," Faith said, annoyance in her tone. "I understand the whole hullabaloo and we can do 'sorry's later. But I'm thinking the pep squad for Angelus here shouldn't be calling the kettle black."

Wesley's face darkened. He stared down at her with the utter serenity that only came when he was truly furious. "Angelus has never hurt me. Angelus has never used me for his own petty games or psychotic desires. And if you think that you may sit here on my couch while - " Wes's eyes flickered towards the white carton on the table " - eating my food and daring to speak to me of my relationship with him, you have quite another thought coming."

"Fine," Faith got up, grabbed her sheath of papers and headed towards the door. "Sorry about the Chinese food. Thanks anyway, Angel."

"Faith, stay put," Angel told her. "Wes - "

"You cannot be serious," Wesley said.

"Dead serious," Angel responded. "Wes, think."

"I beg your pardon?" Wesley asked. He gestured at Faith angrily. "I come home to find her here and you somehow find that this is a situation which allows, let alone requires rational thought?"

"She needs our help," Angel said.

"She needs a job," Wes retorted. To Faith he added. "Try pizza delivery. Apparently their union has a few slacking members."

Faith made a face at him. "Pizza's not really on the community service list. Thought helping the helpless was."

"You can't seriously expect to be allowed employment here," Wesley said.

"She can seriously expect help here," Angel replied. "Wes, she's a Slayer. Where exactly is she supposed to go?"

"A few choice places suggest themselves," Wesley observed, his arms folded.

"And then what?" Angel asked. "Faith out there, on her own, without us - how long do you think before that starts causing trouble? Before Wolfram & Hart come nosing around? Before - "

The look of pain on Wes's face - so subtle that Faith probably couldn't even see it - stopped Angel's words.

There was a long moment of silence before Wesley spoke again. "You don't think it's them, do you?"

"Could be," Angel said. "Gotta admit we've got a striking coincidence here."

Faith leaned against the doorjamb, shrugging. "I had that thought too. But I figured they would've showed themselves by now."

"The Council can often take quite a while in its planning," Wes said, quietly. Angel tried to meet his eyes, but Wes looked the other way.

"The Council? I thought we were talking about the lawyers," Faith said, confused. "I mean I thought about the Council too, but - what's going on?"

"Angelus," Wesley whispered.

"She knows," Angel said.

"Yes, but if they know," Wesley shook his head, sinking down into a chair. "God. They'd have to, wouldn't they?"

"Uh - the Council didn't send me," Faith said. She held up the birthday card again. "I came by way of Hallmark. And don't worry, I won't say anything."

Wesley took in the card, then shot Angel a quizzical glance.

"Long story," Angel said.

Wes nodded, accepting that. "The Council might have freed you. They... One must admit that they would hardly rank high amongst Angelus's allies. This could be an attempt on their part to kill him. Or - "

Angel reached over and placed a hand on Wes's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Oh," Faith said, realization dawning. She walked a few steps back into the room. "I get it now. Thing is, I don't want to kill Angel. Look, Wes, I know you've got no reason to trust me. But Angel does. And the last thing I wanna do right now is lose that. It's all I've got."

Wes leaned forward, pressing a hand to his eyes tiredly. "Another battle," he said, softly, more for Angel's ears than anyone else's. "We're not home a week and - "

"We can take 'em," Angel said. He moved around to sit on the coffee table, forcing Wes to look at him. "Wes - it's not the same. For starters, I'm conscious." This elicited a faint smile from Wesley's lips. "And second - Faith is my friend. That means she's on our side. The Council wants to try anything, it's gonna be a rough fight between you, me, Gunn and a Slayer."

Wesley gave an ironic chuckle. "What a team we make."

"Better than nothing," Angel pointed out.

"Hey, count me in on the anti-Council parade," Faith said, perching on the end of the couch. She flashed Angel a quick smile. "Friends, huh?"

"Got a better name for it?" Angel asked.

"Friends is good," Faith said, softly. "I got your back."

"The enemy of my enemy," Wes muttered. He sat back, his left hand protectively hovering over his right arm.

Angel knew immediately where that impulse was coming from. He covered Wes's hand with his own, for once not trying to hold back on the extra strength inside of it. "Hey - it's not like before, Wes. She's not trying to torture you. And if she was, she knows I'd kick her ass six ways from Sunday."

"No worries," Faith said. "I've gone cold turkey on the torture thing. Besides, it's the kind of thing that gets you fired." She tried a quick smile in Wes's direction.

"No, attempting to - " Wes stopped, then for the first time truly looked at Faith. "You can't be serious. Even in the name of staying out of prison, why would you voluntarily work for me again?"

Angel cleared his throat. "Um - Faith? Wes runs the business now. I may not have mentioned that yet."

Faith looked at Angel. "You didn't. Thanks."

"I was getting around to it," Angel defended himself. "You know. Before - " he took in their entire situation. " - there was pizza."

"Yeah," Faith said, then turned to Wesley. "It's what I do. It's the only thing I can do. It's my birthright for Christ's sake. And - maybe I can start making up for things."

Wes nodded, seeming to understand that. "I suppose it does make a kind of sense."

"Oh good," Faith said. "Does that mean I can actually have some pizza now?"

"Help yourself," Wesley said. He noticed the bottles on the table. "Angel, I don't suppose there's anymore - "

"Faith, I think Wes could use a beer," Angel said, giving her a look to prompt her.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" Faith said. She climbed off the couch, went to the fridge, and grabbed a few bottles. She once again popped them open with her teeth before handing them out.

Angel half-expected Wes to reject it, but instead Wes took it with a quiet "Thank you" and swallowed it down.

"Long day?" Angel asked.

"You don't know the half of it," Wes replied.

"Wanna go to bed?" Angel offered.

Wes shot him a look that was not without hunger. "You don't know the half of that either."

Angel gave him a half grin, resting a hand on Wes's knee. "Nobody saying we can't."

Wes's eyes flickered in Faith's direction. "I'm not exactly desiring of an audience at this moment in time. Or ever, as a matter of fact."

"Oh for - " Faith got up, grabbing one of the pizza boxes. "This was the other big thing you couldn't tell me?"

Angel sat back, but didn't remove his hand. "Um - heh - yeah. See, the thing is - "

Faith smiled. "Look, if you'll just tell me where my room is," she said, picking up her beer with her other hand, "I'll get out of your hair and leave you two lovebirds alone."

With a look of permission from Wes, Angel got up pointed the directions. "Um - third one down the hall on the right's pretty good. Cordy and Gunn crash there sometimes so there should be some sheets and towels in there. Soap and all that too. Um - " Angel hesitated, looking at her uncertainly. "Are you sure? I mean, the thing about me and Wes is - "

Faith grinned. She moved the pizza box into the crook of her other arm and patted him on the cheek with her free hand. "S'okay," she said. "Don't worry about it. I mean, let's face it - not like it's a big surprise."

Angel bristled, glancing in Wes's direction. "Faith - " he started, a light warning tone in his voice.

Faith switched the pizza box back to her free hand and headed for the door, continuing her thought as though she hadn't heard him. "After all, I always thought you had a thing for Wesley."

Fin.