Heat

The walk to Faith's motel gave Wesley plenty of time to think, plenty of time for the terror to begin wearing on him again. He tried to detach himself from it, but he couldn't seem to get past the fear.

Sighing as he slipped his key into the door lock of his car, Wesley shook his head and tried instead to understand the fear. Though that hadn't helped him on many occasions, at least he'd then be able to lay it out when he spoke with Rupert.

Mostly, he believed, it was the unknowns in it all. He didn't like stepping into a situation with no idea of what he was likely to find. He didn't like--

"Wesley?"

At the sound of his name, Wes turned, flattening himself against his car and reaching for a stake he wasn't carrying. Of course, the first thing he realized was that it was daylight and a stake would be rather useless. The second was that, while it was a vampire who'd called his name, he had nothing to fear from Angel . . . well, mostly.

"Oh, uh, Angel. I didn't see you skulking there." The man stood in the opened doorway of Faith's room. It was safe enough, with the catwalk above shading him. "What-what are you doing here?"

"Came to get some of Faith's things for her. You here to get your car?" The vampire was, indeed, carrying a duffel bag in which Wes had seen Faith store weapons.

"Yes. Uh, Rup--Mr. Giles gave me a--"

Angel held up his hand. "I don't want details."

Wesley blinked, feeling himself turn red as he sputtered out, "ride."

"Oh," Angel ducked his head, looking quite sheepish. "Uh, sorry." He glanced up and shrugged, eyes darting away from Wesley's.

"Good lord, one would think it would be possible to keep a secret around here," Wesley grumbled under his breath, turning back to his car, too embarrassed to continue the conversation with Angel.

"Look, I'm sorry," Angel said again. "Really. I didn't know it was a secret."

Wes spun around, suddenly angry, though only tangentially with Angel. Mostly, he was angry about his own reaction, angry that he couldn't just take this in stride. And why did it matter if Angel knew? Because that made it all the more likely Buffy did, or would. How would she react?

"Did Faith tell you?" Wesley shook his head, advancing on the vampire. "I don't know why I suddenly feel rather betrayed when I didn't after she nearly choked the life out of me."

"Faith knows?" Angel raised an eyebrow at that, shaking his head. "I gotta tell ya, that's probably not the best way to keep a secret."

"She didn't tell you?" Wesley gaped, racking his brain in an attempt to think of where the man might have heard about Rupert and himself. "Then who did?"

Angel raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a faintly worried look. "Uh, vampire, remember? I can . . . well, er, smell him on you."

Wesley closed his eyes, sure that his face had gone crimson. Of course, his reaction was only partially due to the embarrassment that rose up inside him. The thought of being surrounded by Rupert's scent . . .

"Right. Of course." Sighing, Wesley raised a hand to rub at his aching forehead. "Yes, well. Uh, I would appreciate it if you would . . . uh, not-not mention this to Buffy, or the, uh, the others."

"Uh, s-sure. I can't say anything for Oz, but you got it."

Wesley blinked at that, his mind taking a moment to make the connection. Oz, werewolf, heightened sense of smell.

"Damn," he sighed, shaking his head. Pushing the topic from his mind, because the only the thing he could do about it at the moment was panic and he was quite too drained for that, he glanced back at his car. "Uh, how did you get here?"

"Sewers," Angel shrugged.

"Yes, well. Grab a blanket from Faith's bed and I'll drive you back. I was going to see her anyway."

"You were?" Angel looked at him dubiously, though he was already moving to get a blanket. "Why? I mean, no offense, but the last thing Faith needs right now is to be lectured and--"

"I wanted to make sure she was all right," Wes said quietly, opening the passenger side back door for a blanket-shrouded Angel to scuffle inside. Sighing as he once again nearly got in on the passenger side; Wesley went round the car and slid behind the wheel. "I don't intend to . . . 'lecture' her."

"Really? That's, uh, that's pretty good of you, considering . . . aren't you angry with her?"

"Very," Wesley sighed once again, shaking his head. "She's dangerous, but dangerous because she's in a very, very bad place and I . . . I only wanted to help. I think that not going to see her would only reinforce her belief that no one cares. Beyond that, I am still her Watcher."

"That means a lot to you, huh?"

"What?" Wesley tilted his head back a bit, finding it fairly odd to be having a conversation with the blanket in his backseat. "Oh, being her Watcher? Of-of course, that's . . . uh, it's my duty, my . . . my life."

"So, it's not about her at all?" Angel's tone hadn't changed at all from the first question. There was no censure, just curiosity, which was likely why Wesley told him anything at all instead of snapping at him to mind his own business.

"It is about her. How can it not be? She's a Slayer, she needs a Watcher. Buffy has her own and . . . I'm not needed there at all. But with Faith . . . she and I are not, er, dissimilar and . . . I think I could be of help to her, and I want to be. I want to help her."

"That's good. Faith needs as many people to care about her as she can get right now. She's . . . I think I got through, a little, but . . . it's hard. It'll always be hard. You know that, right? If you're going to be her Watcher, if you're going to sign on for the lifetime deal, Faith's never gonna wake up one day and be over this."

"I know," Wesley said softly, sighing. He was aware of that and he did want to help her. He simply wasn't sure that his attempts to do so wouldn't make it all worse.