Why We're Here - For Fortune Cookie Verse

[demonologist]

It was beyond midnight now. The majority of the firm's workers had gone home and the offices were dark and emptied out for the most part. A quietness had settled upon the place which was oddly comforting considering the frenzied drama of earlier in the evening. Gunn had gone home almost immediately, but others had lingered. Wesley had retreated to his own office, ostensibly to work on the spell detailing he'd been planning to do. But in truth, he was shaken.

Sam Lawson had invaded their workspace. Terrorised them. And they'd nearly been killed before Angel had managed to defeat him. But that wasn't what had shaken Wes. No, what was worse was that the vampire had terrorised Fred and she had nearly been killed. It was bad enough that Gunn had also been in danger, but the image of Fred balanced precariously on her desk chair, her eyes wide with fright...he couldn't seem to get it out of his mind.

He'd taken a break to clear his head, making some hot, honey sweetened tea for his sore throat. Then without even thinking about it, he'd made a second cup and gone to check on Fred. Somehow he'd known in his gut that she hadn't left yet, either.

Comments

[fredless]

"I don't mind sharing, just so you know."

And she didn't. Not if there was some way it might ease the tight lines that settled around Wesley's mouth. Or the strain in Angel's shoulders. Or Charles and Lorne, however they needed.

His fingers were warm, seeping through her own skin and easing a chill Fred hadn't even realized had settled over her. It was a bothersome thought, one all too easy to linger in. That a body could let itself stop noticing the cold.

A look of resolve passed over her features.

"Ok, so that's it." She looked back at Wesley. "When we go home tonight, we're flipping the calendar. I don't care how many days are left in the month, it's time for a new one."

In a new month, she might even find a way of telling Wesley about whatever this was that she felt. The one thing Fred was sure of -- it didn't belong in this one.

[demonologist]

"That sounds like a brilliant idea. I'm more than ready to be rid of this month and to start a new one. Everyone else can think we're mad, but at least in our heads it will be a fresh start."

Her mention of going home made him realise just how exhausted and drained he really was. Fred probably was, too. Reluctantly he let go of her hand and reached for the mug of tea again. He'd take a few more sips to ease the soreness and then...

"Shall I walk you to your car? I know that security's been tightened up due to Lawson's breach, but it would put my mind at ease if you'd let me."

[fredless]

"We're the bosses, right? Who's going to tell us no."

Fred wasn't certain she could begin to navigate the tangle of emotions that sat just underneath that statement. Humor, of course. If nothing but because just how true it was. A bit of sadness too, at the fear they'd somehow come to inspire. That had never been her intent, but it it was one of those things that felt bigger than them. Inevitably tied up with this place. The building --

The idea of it.

But mostly? She was just tired. And somehow, Wesley had settled on what she needed, in that moment. Not the escort, precisely. Though she certainly wouldn't turn him away. But...

"Home sounds good." She flashed him a grateful smile, once again aware of how everything hurt. Fred watched for a moment, taking him in while Wesley nursed his tea. The idea that she might be staring came over her slowly.


"Let me just get my shoes."

It wasn't until Fred founds the heels on the floor of her lab that she realized what a poor excuse it'd been. In a swift, decisive gesture she picked them up off the floor and dropped them into the nearest trash can. She had no desire to ever wear them again. The relief was instant, and Fred felt noticeably lighter.

[demonologist]

Being a boss wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He'd found that out the hard way. But it certainly had its perks. And he believed that he was a good employer. He might have had high standards, but he was fair and certainly not the sort of bully his father could be.

In the end, however, they still answered to the Senior Partners. which was a sobering thought. But Fred's words and her presence had given him a renewed resolve. He wouldn't let Wolfram and Hart dictate how he lived his life, or what choices he ultimately made. He'd fight for those moments when his head was above water. And he'd do the same for those around him.

He drank down some more of the now lukewarm tea, waiting for Fred to return. When she did, she didn't have any shoes on, after all. He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't remark on it.

"Ready? I just need to lock up my office."

[fredless]

Fred wiggled her toes at Wesley's examination, but she was secretly glad when he didn't press any further. The shoes would never make her feel anything but weak, now. And even with their resolve to turn the page tonight, there'd been enough if all their lives lately without questionable footwear.

"Ready." She felt herself smile, and Fred moved to claim her bag before fumbling briefly for the keys inside. As late as she often stayed, Knox usually was the last one out with the responsibility of locking up. But things had been strained lately. And more than that, he'd seemed distracted. After a moment her fingers closed over cool keys underneath several files.

"Just leave the mugs. I can take care of them tomorrow."

Fred switched off a few other non essential lights and then lead the way down from her office and through the darkened lab.

[demonologist]

It didn't take long for them both to retrace his steps to his own office and lock up for the night. Then they were travelling in the elevator down to the parking garage. He glanced over at Fred, feeling a bit more buoyed after having talked to her.

"I wonder what people would think if I came to work barefoot or in sandals," he mused, a very faint smile playing upon his lips.

"I suspect only you could get away with that."

[fredless]

Fred glanced over at Wesley as the elevator continued to descend. In the relative quiet that came with the late hour the inner-workings of the mechanics seemed especially loud. Or maybe, again, she was tired.

That eased slightly when she noticed he was smiling.

"Give me a minute. I'll probably stub a toe or step in somebody's day-old spilled coffee. It'll lose all its appeal."

[demonologist]

"Ah, yes. It would come with some risks attached. But that's what makes you braver than I," he quipped, stepping forward to hold the lift door open so that she could exit now that they'd arrived at the correct floor. "Can you imagine Angel's expression, however, if I did suddenly start sporting roman sandals?"

Wes waited for Fred to lead the way to her car. His was on the floor above, but right now he was focused on ensuring that she left the building safely.

[fredless]

"You'd break him right out of his trademark brood. And then he'd probably have you checked out for some kind of possession."

The beep of her alarm sounded loudly as the crossed through the now empty garage towards her car. Fred opened the backdoor and dropped her bag inside before turning to face Wesley again, resting her back on the door.

"But I..." She considered the image, in all its absurdity. But wasn't that what they needed? Even if in some small amount? "I think you would look lovely."

[demonologist]

He chuckled a bit, then stopped since his throat was protesting.

"I think I'd probably get the same sort of reaction if I started regularly wearing a top hat."

Fred had arrived at her car. There was no reason to linger. But still, he was reluctant to leave her just yet.

"But thank you for the compliment."

He paused, not wanting to make it obvious that he was drawing things out.

"You'll call me once you get home?"

[fredless]

Fred had the absurd desire then to -- well at least to press a kiss to Wesley's cheek. If anything, to thank him. And not just for finding her in the lab that evening, for preventing her from sitting there staring at who knew what until people showed up to work the next morning. For everything, lately. But Fred was fairly certain that Wesley's reaction to the gesture wouldn't have been all the different to Angel and Wesley's hypothetical sandals.

Instead? She nodded. The movement neat and oddly cheerful considering the hour.

"I'll call you when I get home." Fred opened the car door and slid behind the wheel, taking a moment to turn over the ignition. "I promise."

[demonologist]

He watched her go, firmly pushing any lingering wistfulness from his thoughts. She was alive and safe for now, and that was as much as he could possibly wish for.

He'd head home himself and wait for the phone call. Such small moments of human contact, but he wondered what he'd do without them. Cordelia was gone now. Angel was becoming more and more withdrawn. He and Gunn were friendly but nowhere as comradely as they'd once been. Lorne was busier than all of them combined. Spike or Harmony weren't people he could tolerate for long periods of time. And so, in the end, it came down to Fred. Lovely, winsome, stubborn Fred. If only she knew how important she was in terms of keeping him, and the others, afloat. One day, perhaps, he'd have the courage to tell her.