Heat

"Oh, looky. You brought me someone else to play with." Faith's voice was snide. She leaned back against the wall, rubbing at her manacled wrists. "Aw, Angel, you shouldn't have. Really."

"Actually, he brought me back from your motel room. Was on his way to see you anyway," Angel commented, tossing Faith's duffel to the floor.

"I, uh, I wanted to see how you're doing," Wesley commented, taking in the manacles, glancing at Angel with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah, like you'd trust her with her hands free," Angel snorted, looking back toward Faith. "I want to, though. It'll just . . . take some time."

"And, until then, she's bound to a cold wall with barely any room to move?" Wesley blinked at Angel, his jaw clenched. "Animals are better treated."

"Well, most animals don't have the strength of a Slayer and a friend who can't chase them into daylight if they get loose," Angel said with a shrug, though he looked a bit sheepish.

Wesley opened his mouth and then snapped it shut, shaking his head. "Please, Angel, I'm sure we can come up with something more comfortable than this."

"Why the fuck do you care?" Faith snorted, shaking her head. "Did you two practice this little speech on the way here?"

Wesley blinked at the Slayer, forehead wrinkling. "Why would we?"

"Oh, come on! You both want me to fall into your arms or some shit. Want me to think you actually give a crap and aren't just scared of me. Of what I can do." Faith's talk was big; her voice, however, wavered just a bit, her posture slumped, eyes darting between him and Angel.

"That's not true," both he and Angel said at once.

"Could we have a few moments, please?" Wesley asked the vampire with a small sigh.

Angel opened his mouth, looked at Faith and then back to Wesley before he nodded and left. Wesley sighed, moving around the room, poking here and there although his mind was hardly on the décor.

"Faith. I am your Watcher. Until recently . . . I didn't even understand what that meant. I suppose . . . it doesn't matter. I won't lie. You scare the bloody hell out of me. You strangled me and I thought I was going to die."

Wesley turned to look at her and found himself faced with a young woman, though one who could easily take his life, at least physically. He wasn't sure if he she would feel remorse or not and that was, perhaps, what scared him the most. Still, if he could just . . . he wasn't sure what good the truth would do, other than to give Faith a sense of where he was coming from, if that were possible. He had nothing else to offer.

"It's not the first time I've been afraid," he said softly, ducking his head for a moment as he pushed away memories. "And it quite certainly won't be the last. I'm human, Faith. A vampire could kill me, a demon, a stronger, quicker human. You're not all that special, in that concern."

"Oh, thanks so much," Faith spat, glaring at him. "At least I'm good at what I do," she growled.

"You are. You're a very good Slayer, but you can't do this alone." Wesley sighed, shaking his head and moving to the fireplace. "Angel can empathize, far better than I, with what you're going through. But Faith," Wesley turned to her then, willing her to understand. "No one else, not even Giles, can be your Watcher. He's Buffy's Watcher, that's . . . you and I both know there's no place for us there, in that relationship. I can be your Watcher, Faith. There's a reason Slayers have them. You don't know yourself half as well as you think you do. It burns inside you; the energy and power that define you as a Slayer, a we-warrior."

"We-warrior? You were going to say, what? Weapon?" Faith looked down at her hands, the clench of her jaw obvious.

"Yes, but, uh, I no longer believe that. If I did, I would have called the Council, regardless of what anyone else said. If I still thought of you as a weapon, your feelings in the matter would mean nothing to me and I would have barged in here with a Council team to drag you back."

Faith's eyes swung up to meet his. "What makes you think you know shit about me? You can't feel it; you don't know what it's like to have this . . . this fire inside."

Wesley nodded at that. "You feel it, but I can help you understand it. I may not be able to experience it, but I'm no fool. I've studied extensively. Your link to Slayers past is weak, but I know, I've learned how they channeled it, drew upon it, calmed and soothed it when they had to. I can make you stronger, faster, more at ease in your own skin when you're not slaying. I can help you, Faith. If you'll let me. Letting me includes letting Angel help you, and coming back to work with us, with myself and Buffy and Rup-Giles."

Faith stared at him, apparently taken by surprise.

"Why?" Faith shook her head, slumping back to the wall those she couldn't seem to look away. "Why would you want to? Make me stronger, or faster, more . . . at ease. Why do you even care?"

Wesley opened his mouth to say . . . something, but shook his head. "You want the truth?"

Faith nodded, narrowing her eyes.

"I need you as much as you need me. I'm a Watcher in name only. I love my work, but it's more than research and learning. It's fighting, it's helping this . . . this world and I'm useless at that right now. But I want to help, and I think you want to, in some way. Want to help, to be something, someone. We can do that for one another."

Faith stared at him for a long moment and Wesley stood there, feeling like a bug under a microscope, unsure what else he could say to convince her.

"Think about it, Faith, just . . . take some time and think about it. I'll . . . I'll come back tomorrow. Is-is there anything I can bring you?"

"Huh, other than a set of keys to these things?" Faith snorted and shrugged, turning serious even as her forehead furrowed. "Yeah, o-okay. I'll, uh, I'll think about it."

Wes gave a small smile and then slipped out of the room.

"Hey, how'd it go?" Angel asked, pushing himself away from the wall upon which he'd been leaning, startling Wesley a bit.

"Please stop doing that."

"Sorry." Angel shrugged, giving him a worried glance. "So?"

"Uh, I . . . I think it went well, actually. I really think that I got through to her, a little, anyway." Wesley shrugged, but he did feel as if he'd accomplished something. He'd established that Faith and he needed one another and he supposed that would be a solid foundation, a good start. He had to wonder how Rupert had gotten through to Buffy. Perhaps, if it were still possible after they talked about their relationship, he'd ask.

"That's good. I . . . I hope it helps." Angel seemed a bit uncomfortable and Wesley realized he was probably intruding.

"Oh, I . . . I should go. Uh, I would like to . . . is there anywhere else you could put her? I know . . . I know she's unpredictable right now, but . . . she can't be comfortable and . . ."

Angel lifted an eyebrow at him, but nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Wesley turned to go when a thought struck him. "Oh, uh, I believe Rupert wanted to ask you to, uh, do-do us a favor."

At that, Angel's eyebrows rose considerably. "A favor?"

"Yes," Wesley sighed, turning to meet Angel's eyes. "You see, there's a dead man in his bathtub and--"

"What? I'm-I'm sorry, did . . . did you just say there's a dead man in Giles' bathtub?"