#i try and make it right; but by trying make it worse. / wesley wyndam pryce

[nothingleftofyou]

@bludbound

5.12 You’re Welcome ∟ Angel [1999 - 2004]

[nothingleftofyou]

it took an earnest moment for wesley to realize a joke had even been uttered. they had been waiting for him to react. probably, to laugh. "sorry," he said instead, not unkindly although somewhat dry. "i think my sense of humor's trapped in a jar somewhere."

[prose-for-hire]

Penny for your thoughts

Pairing: Wesley x reader

Request: Not requested. I just needed to write something from my own brain !! Inspired very loosely by season 3′s ‘earshot’. Reader can read minds and struggles with this. One day, they meet Wesley and thoughts threaten to spill. [Italics = thoughts]

Warning: Very mild violence mentioned. Hostage situation.

When you first meet people, you always knew exactly what your first impression on them is. Sometimes it was good, others not so good. But it was never as disastrous as the time you met Wesley. He hadn’t been in a good mood that day anyway, he was late and his research had led to nothing. Even worse, he would have to face Giles and admit that he had been wrong about which codex the relevant information would be in.

It was the early morning and you had arrived at your new job. You had needed something normal, you weren’t to know that living in Sunnydale would be the furthest thing from normality. You were the new school administrator, hired only because you knew the exact answers that Snyder was looking for when he interviewed you.

There was something about you that people couldn’t tell just by looking at you. You were telepathic. You could read people’s minds. That’s how you knew exactly how much he disliked your demeanour. Some people were jealous of your abilities, but often you decided it wasn’t worth the constant headache (both metaphorical and unfortunately literal too).

Whenever anybody found out, they often held you at arm’s length. People liked to keep their thoughts in their own heads, apparently. Not in yours. You had been practicing ways to ease the headaches and thus quietening the voices down inside your mind. These foreign thoughts bubbled up when you focused on someone you were near, but you could block out a lot of it now. Thanks to a lot of practice.

This morning, Wesley had been trying to walk straight past the front office and into the library without being stopped – but you had got in the way of that. You stepped in front of him and he stared at you as if he was trying to burn holes into you.

“Yes?” he asked curtly, looking past you now towards the corridor he should be walking down.

“Hi, I’m Y/n, the new administrator. Snyder’s asked me to put this sign-in sheet in place for, uh, late staff…”

“This is ridiculous! I am barely a minute past the hour-”

“I know, but you still need to sign…” You said, your voice wavering as he thought about how he wished that you would explode into dust like a vampire and leave him alone. He scribbled something illegible onto your sheet and stormed away, cursing you both in his head and under his breath as he walked.

You sighed. You learned two things on your first day at Sunnydale High, one being that doing your job and contractually having to side with Snyder wasn’t going to win you any friends. And a second being that vampires, demons and evil existed. Which, I mean, you guessed it must be true if you had the abilities that you did but it was finally confirmed to you.

The rest of the term went on like this, with you only ever encountering Wesley the same way and him getting decidedly more annoyed with you every time. You, on the other hand, became more fond of him. You learnt more about him every morning through his thoughts and found him to be a kind and genuine man who was just desperate to prove himself to the people he now worked with.

After getting a cold reception ever since you met him, one morning was a little bit different. Not only because Wesley was early but he made a point by saying good morning very loudly to you to which made you smile widely at him. You couldn’t help it, his thoughts had made you really like him. He faltered only slightly and you didn’t quite catch what he thought as he brusquely walked past.

Much like in verbal conversation, you didn’t always hear everything clearly if you weren’t focusing enough. Moreover, you often tried to make a point of letting people have as much privacy as you could. You could hear an underlying buzzing of everyone’s thoughts but if you focused and isolated on a person you could hear it clearly. But everything was always so busy it could be hard to catch things clearly sometimes.

In some instances, however, some specific thoughts called out to you with an almost painful clarity. This happened later that same day. You had walked into the library to explain to Giles that there had been some complaints from students that they had been turned away from the library for no good reason when it hit you.

I will eat them. I will kill them all…

You must have reacted very obviously as Giles with sincerity asked if you were okay. You rushed out your words, knowing that this was a lot to suddenly admit – but you knew these were the right people to tell.

“There’s something in here, the school I mean. Something looking to eat people. You need to, uh, do some research. The Sumerian will have to wait, this is happening. And soon-”

“H-how did you know about-” Giles began, he had just thought about beginning to read the Sumerian text he needed.

“Uh, yeah, so, I can read thoughts and I know I can trust you because you save the world often between school opening hours and I never once thought about telling Snyder so please just trust me?”

“I knew it!”

“You have never thought that before, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce”

I may have done… eventually.

“But you didn’t” You smiled softly and he looked at the ground. Giles caught this look between you and your seemingly one-sided conversation. You found his look endearing and found yourself thinking this for a moment too long before snapping yourself out of it.

Nobody tried to test you or question you after they chose to trust you. They appeared to be able to tell how genuine and how much you appeared to want to help. So, they listened to what you said and began to do more patrolling. Some even questioned other students in case they had seen anything suspicious (which, they had it just didn’t happen to be the kind of suspicious you were all currently researching).

Buffy and her group of friends were guarded around you with their thoughts which you were used to, people really didn’t like their thoughts being shared. But at the same time, you could hear that they thought you were pretty cool which was really a big compliment.

You were all searching for this demon on the school campus, it had been a week by this point and you and Wesley kept being paired up by Giles. Whether that look you gave him had inspired him to be a match-maker or he was truly oblivious and just wanted the two of you far away from him you didn’t know. Either way, you had quickly been adopted into the little team.

Wesley was bashful and often began tripping over his words to talk about anything that you appeared to take an interest in. He began to warm to you once he realised you had just been trying to keep your job and not trying to ruin his career as a watcher (and fake librarian).

You kept listening intently as you and him did your usual loop around the school, having to hope everyone in the school could forgive you listening to every single thought in search of the person you had heard that day. You were sieving through every thought anyone had ever had and it was getting tiring. Exhausting, even. Your head was so full it began to spin almost violently. A merry-go-round you could never get off, it kept going faster the more you listened.

While you were listening one day in the library, Wesley, who you had been distracted by and had been watching from the other side of the room had moved to stand beside you. You hadn’t noticed him, much less that he was speaking until your legs gave way from under you. You started to collapse to the ground until his arms reached to catch you. It was instinct, he gripped you tight preventing you from falling. He allowed you to shift some of your weight onto him as you walked towards a chair. He turned away to make you a cup of your beverage of choice to relax you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Wesley said softly as he sat beside you. His demeanour so different from how he had been even a week ago. You had become fond of him much before this, but he was just beginning to warm to you. To understand you had only been doing your job, helping his when you could. You had been leaving notes of thoughts you had overheard on Wesley and Giles’ desks ever since you realised what was going on with the school and the Hellmouth.

“If I got a penny for every thought I heard… I would be rich” You smiled, but you appeared washed out and weakened as you tried to raise yourself from your seat. This was a mistake, you began to go dizzy and tried to still yourself, raising your hand to your head. Without you noticing (or, admittedly himself until it happened) his hand rested on the back of yours. Your stomach flipped, an elation rising inside at the mere whisper of his touch.

He leaned in closer, his face now level with yours. The proximity sent shivers through your body. You closed your eyes, focusing only on his touch. No thoughts, not even your own should interrupt this. It was promise. Of care, of some deep down need to comfort you. No matter if his intentions were romantic or otherwise, just knowing he cared meant something. It was enough to keep you happy. You wanted to stay in this moment, where his touch was yours.

But, of course this was Sunnydale. Wesley had appeared to help you clear your mind. Enough to hear something.

Kill… Eat… Kill… Eat again

“No!” You shouted, a completely different style of shivers now went up your spine. You were horrified at the images you were starting to see. The thoughts were getting stronger which meant… they were getting closer. If only you could make out exactly where.

“Y/n, I apologise. I should n-not have thought to-”

“Wesley, no, that was- well, it-” You paused and sighed. This was a conversation for another time. You just wanted to tell him how much the tenderness of his touch meant, but it really wasn’t the right moment, “Demon. I heard the demon! I think it’s in the basement” You rushed out, gesturing for him to follow you.

How is that possible? We checked at least a dozen times.

It could have been hiding or somewhere else – it could have even been invisible. I just know where it is now.

You nodded, thinking this was the only reply you had given him. He blinked not once but twice. He was surprised to say the least. You had communicated to him without speaking. You were fascinating to him. He looked at your lips before scanning the rest of your face as he thought how much he wished that he could…

No. Better not think on this now. His mind may run wild and the last thing he needed was you catching this particular train of thought.

You stepped gingerly into the dark basement, the light was very dim but you were both able to just about get your bearings. You could hear the thoughts again, louder and louder as you approached. All this guy seemed to do was think about killing and eating.

Talk about one track mind.

Wesley made a noise that sounded like a laugh. You didn’t realise that it was in reaction to your own thoughts. But any remnants of a smile was wiped off his face when he saw the scene before him.

There was a pit of what appeared to be lava with a green coloured demon hanging precariously above it. In the corner of the room, a man that looked human apart from the sizeable canines and horns protruding from his face.

Without thinking and notedly before the demon in the corner of the room had spotted you, you started to pull at the rope that the green demon was suspended from. Wesley, although the frown on his face read as a reluctance to assist what would usually be seen as the enemy, came and helped you anyway. Especially when he saw how affected you clearly were by what you could hear of the demon’s thoughts.

You managed to untie the rope that was fixed in place to keep the demon suspended just as the man who intended to dine on them began to run at you. This made your hand slip, letting go of the rope and making the green-hued figure drop into the pit with a scream.

As Wesley moved to protect you, using the skills he could remember through the fog of fear he was experiencing you ran to the pit. You gasped, pleased to see the four hands were clinging onto the crumbling side of the pit. The demon hadn’t fallen into the pit yet – you still had time to help.

“Take my hand!” You shouted over the noise, opening your palm for the green demon to take. You could hear the demon’s desperation, their thoughts that it was the end. You couldn’t bear it. You had to help them.

“Go” Wesley shouted to the green demon as you both helped them up from the pit. The demon whose thoughts brought you into the basement became even more mad at this and began to attack you fiercely.

You managed to keep the demon at bay until reinforcements arrived. Buffy and Angel soon ran into the basement and held off the demon from snapping off your limb and eating it like a chicken leg. You did all you could to assist with the fight and shouted out the demon’s intended movements out to give the others the upper hand.

Wesley walked you home that evening, after Willow spoke an incantation to close up the lava pit and make it very hard to enter the basement (the last thing you needed was anyone else setting up (evil) shop down there).

You continued to be a big part of the group as the months went on. You would spent a lot of your time researching and learning all you could from demons and the students to help Buffy fight. You didn’t have the heart to tell the others that they weren’t fooling anyone – most people had at least some idea there was something special about her and her super-strength.

As you did your bit to save the world, your mind was never far from him. You had grown close, savouring every detail you learned about him. You knew that through the sometimes clumsy and ‘proper’ exterior, there was a kind and well-intentioned heart. He wished to open up to you, but his upbringing made it hard for him to grow out of the need to hide his emotions and feelings.

He caught your eye during a meeting and you couldn’t stop your own thoughts from flowing.

I love him. Wow, is this what being in love feels like? I can’t stop thinking about him…

He smiled wider as you thought this which made you want to hold him into you even more. Everything about him, from his need to stick to what he had been taught to the letter to the deeply sensitive and caring parts of him he revealed with out even meaning to and everything in between.

He was soon the reason you arrived at work with a smile on your face. Just to catch a glimpse of him or hear something from him. It meant everything.

Graduation day came and so did the battle against the Mayor and his ascension. As rubble, dust and demons lay defeated around you, he made his way straight towards you. Ensuring that you were safe. That you hadn’t been hurt.

“I think I’m out of a job��� You joked, still catching your breath after the fight. But this was a futile task as Wesley rested his hand against the base of your skull and pulled you towards him, crashing your lips with his. 

His lips glided over yours, a subtle urgency igniting your continued passion for him. You grasped at the shirt that had been ripped in the fight, feeling the warmth of his skin as you kissed him with all the feeling within. He pulled you nearer still, no matter how close you were to him would never be enough.

This fight had put everything into perspective. He needed you, he loved you just as he was sure you felt the same. He couldn’t hide away from revealing the deepest parts of himself from you anymore. He had only kept it because he was sure that his mind was deceiving him. You couldn’t possibly feel those things for him. Those things he had dreamed and hoped and wished that you would say. It had appeared too good to be true.

“My entire life I have found myself having to prove myself, to work to be accepted. When I met you, without realising until much after, my heart started beating again. I began to live because you made me feel like I matter. That I could make a real difference.”

“Wes, you make a difference everyday…”

“Well, before I met you it appears that I had been living my life wrong”

What does this mean?

“It means that, uh, I was miserable. You showed me a joy to life that I had not even considered” He replied before continuing to explain how much you meant to him, “You do the right thing, the decent thing, no matter if it is written in the watchers handbook or otherwise. To assist even a demon in their hour of need, I am in awe of you. Truly”

You smiled, leaning in to press your lips against his again, ready to tell him exactly how you felt about him. You couldn’t hide this feeling you held, your soft adoration enveloping him in the best way.

As you leaned against him, you realised something – he had just answered your thought. He knew everything, had heard every adoring thought fact that he had been too polite to reveal to you until recently. He had been able to read your thoughts.

You had been so wrapped up in your feelings in a way you never had before, your feelings for him were just so strong, that you had managed to broadcast your own consciousness into his mind. Only such strong and true feelings could do this, you were sure of it. He confirmed this to you later when he revealed he had done extensive research on it.

The soft aroma of love now surrounded you, it smelled of him. Cologne and old books. This smell surrounded the area, which thankfully masked the smell of dead demon in the air. You walked away from the battle, victorious, now in more ways than one. You felt as if you were on top of the world, invincible by his side.

With his confession and your minds entwined with the deepest sentiments of love, you didn’t think twice when he asked you to leave Sunnydale with him. You would embark on a trip spanning several states, the two of you fighting evil and helping others. You grew closer, adoring every inch of the other and finally made your home, at least for a while, in Los Angeles.

[ex-vengeancedemon]

A Night at the Opera

Main Pairing: Cordelia Chase x Winifred Burkle

Characters: Cordelia Chase, Winifred (Fred) Burkle, Charles Gunn, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

Summary: Set after Fred is rescued from Pylea and Angel is gone to grieve Buffy's death. Someone needs to help Fred come out of her shell - her shell being her room. Cordelia was making great progress... until she was hit with another head-splitting vision.

I guess there's a total of like 10 fanfictions on ao3 with this pairing (a shame) so I had to write it myself. Chapter 1 below cut. Read here or on ao3.

Chapter Index (out of 3):

Check Back for Updates

Chapter 1

"So," Gunn said, tapping his fingers on the front desk and looking over his shoulder. "Has she come out at all yet?"

Cordelia looked up from the case file she had been perusing and gave a wane smile. "I think she's making progress. She peaks her head out of her room sometimes now."

"Ah, yes," Wesley said. "Progress indeed."

The truth was that the hotel's new guest had been almost completely confined to her room since Angel had left. It was understandable. Winifred Burkle had been a captive of the dimension, Pylea, for the past 5 years, during which she spent her time living in a cave and writing on the walls. In a way, her room was her new cave... and she had yet to break the whole 'writing on walls' habit. Angel had been her savior, the one she trusted most. And he had left to take some time to... well, to mourn Buffy.

Cordy, Wes, and Gunn had been taking turns delivering food outside her door, primarily tacos. They would knock. She wouldn't answer. And they would leave the food on the floor outside. When they returned to check, the food would be gone. Cordelia had spotted her a few times from down the hall. Just glimpses here and there. Fred was still skittish, even of them.

"She can't stay up there forever," Gunn said, shaking his head. He stopped abruptly, as if reconsidering his prior statement. "She can't. Can she?"

Wesley sighed. "She spent five years in a cave with no plumbing. What's a month in a hotel room?"

Cordelia smiled and raised her pen. "With room service."

Gunn rolled his eyes, his eyes again wandering to the once grand staircase as if Fred might come walking down. "I don't know. It just doesn't seem like isolation is the way to help her reintegrate, you know?"

Wes nodded, but he seemed more focused on searching for a tome on the bookshelf than the conversation at hand. "Agreed."

"Well then," Cordelia said, turning to Gunn. "Why don't you go help reintegrate her then?"

Gunn shook his head. "Can't. Told Rondell I'd help him clean out a vamp nest setting up roots in the neighborhood. Gotta head out in an hour."

"Alright Wes, guess you're up to bat then," Cordelia amended.

"Hmm?" Wesley asked, looking up from a thick text coated in odd runic symbols. "What was that?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes and groaned. "Never mind!"

If you want something done... Guess she would have to be vision girl, office manager, detective, and guide to the newbie. That was fine. She could multitask.

Cordelia stood up from her desk, straightened her case files, and walked up the stairs like she knew exactly what she was going to do when she reached Fred's door.

She didn't.

When she reached Fred's door, she took a deep breath and knocked. Then she waited. And waited. There was no answer. She couldn't even hear any movement on the other side.

"Fred?" Cordy called out through the door. "It's me, Cordelia. Are you in there?"

After a long moment, a quiet voice replied, "Yeah. I'm fine, just fine! Thanks for checking. Bye!"

"Good! That's good!" Cordelia said, registering the jumpiness in her voice. "Can I come in? Maybe we could talk for a bit?"

"Talk? Yes, I've been thinking about the acoustics of the hotel and how the sound wave frequencies often seem to match the resonance of the ventilation system creating the disturbing creaks that seem to be everywhere at once and-" Fred's voice cut off. "Oh... well I suppose that probably wasn't what you wanted to talk about."

Cordelia nodded her head slowly. "Uh...huh... Well, I think the sound waves might travel better if you opened the door."

"Oh, right." Fred chuckled nervously and Cordelia could hear multiple bolts being unlocked.

Fred slowly opened the door a crack and gave a small smile. She pursed her lips and finally opened the door all the way.

Motioning an awkward invitation with her arm, Fred said, "Come in."

Cordelia walked into the dim room with the lights all off and the curtains drawn. She would almost think this was Angel's room given the seeming aversion to the light. However the darkness wasn't the most interesting thing about the room. Neither were the food wrappers that were scattered around on the floor. No, the most interesting thing in the room was the wall. Or rather, the walls. They were covered in hasty scrawl, most of which was impossible to make heads or tails of. Cordelia had no idea what it meant, only that it covered an extensive amount of wall space from the floor to the ceiling.

"Sorry for the mess," Fred said, kicking away a few stray wrappers with a measure of embarrassment. "Wasn't expectin' company."

"No!" Cordy replied, trying her best to sound reassuring. "Really, it's fine. I just came barging in!" She glanced around at the walls. "I love what you've done with the place! Very artsy. Custom wallpaper is all the rage these days."

Fred smiled and looked down at the floor. She seemed like she was trying to make herself smaller, to hide even in plain sight. For someone who was already petite to begin with, she looked downright tiny now.

"I just...," Fred began, "I just have to write it down. Don't wanna forget. To lose it. You know, things get lost. You think it and then it's gone. The electrochemical responses of the brain just don't leave a long enough impression for you to capture it indefinitely and the memory is so fallible and-"

"Fred, Fred," Cordelia cut her off with an empathetic look. "It's okay. You don't have to explain yourself to me. If you want to write on the walls, you write on the walls." Cordelia put up her hands and grinned. "And you know what? If you run out of wall, we can paint the walls and you can start over again."

Finally, Fred laughed. It was a quiet, nervous laugh, but Cordelia could tell it was genuine. She thought it was the first genuine laugh she'd heard Fred make since they met. It was sweet.

"You know I could get you some notebooks though," Cordelia continued. "You know, if you'd like."

"Gee I almost forgot about notebooks," Fred replied, "and pencils. In Pylea, I just used a sharp rock and some cypril powder."

"What's-"

"It's the excrement of-"

Cordelia held up a hand. "Never mind! I'm good."

Fred nodded, unfazed by Cordelia's reaction.

"Do you know when Angel will be back?" Fred asked suddenly. "He's been gone for a long time. You don't think- Well, he is coming back, right? He didn't just leave forever...right?"

Cordelia was taken aback by the anxiety and fear in Fred's voice. She knew they had bonded in Pylea. She may have underestimated just how much.

Cordelia shook her head vigorously. "No, no. Of course, he's coming back! He just needed some time to process and grieve."

"Over Buffy?"

"Yeah." Cordelia frowned, the news of Buffy's death had hit Angel hard. She hoped the meditation was helping him... but she kind of doubted it. "Buffy was his first love. And then she died. And he wasn't there."

Fred bit her cheek. "His first love. Right. That...that makes sense."

Cordelia moved to put a hand on Fred's shoulder, but Fred flinched and pulled away. Cordelia hastily pulled her hand back.

"Don't worry, he'll be back," Cordelia said, trying to reassure with her eyes instead. "I'm sure he's-"

A blinding flash of searing, white hot pain shot its way through Cordelia's head and all the way down her spine. She screamed out and collapsed to the floor, no longer able to see. Her body felt like it was on fire. It was as if she were having a migraine, heart attack, and stroke all at once while simultaneously being hit by a bus, soaked in gasoline, and set on fire. No, it was worse than that.

She could faintly hear Fred somewhere in the distance, but she couldn't make out what she was saying. Then her hearing was overtaken by screams that weren't her own. Flashes of a scene played out before her unseeing eyes. A girl. Brunette, dressed in an unmistakable designer Tommy Hilfiger dress.

Cordelia relayed the specifics through the pain to whoever might be listening. The girl was being chased by a vampire dressed in a suit. In some kind of theatre? Cordelia snapped out of the vision and the pain subsided slightly. It left her exhausted and aching all over.

She blinked a few times as her sight returned. Wesley and Gunn where hovering over her looking concerned. She felt the pillow beneath her head shift and she realized suddenly that her head was resting in Fred's lap. Fred leaned over so Cordelia could see her and brushed some stray hair out of her face.

"Did you guys get all that?" Cordelia asked, closing her eyes as she fought back a wave of nausea.

"Yeah," Gunn replied. "You got anymore information on this theatre?"

Cordelia thought back to the vision, trying to get a feel for it. "Um, definitely upscale. I think it's downtown. It was during a performance. Um, an opera. Aida."

Wesley nodded. "Okay, I'll go see what I can find about a showing of Aida at the downtown theatres. Gunn, I think you have a prior engagement you should be getting to." He then turned back to Cordelia. "We'll be back soon. You should get some rest."

Cordelia nodded and Gunn and Wesley left the room.

"How are you feelin'?" Fred looked down at her with concern, her long brown hair dangling over Cordelia's face. "You really gave me a fright."

Cordelia sighed and closed her eyes again. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "The visions can be pretty... well, ugly. But it's over now. I'll be fine."

Fred bit her cheek again. Cordelia didn't think she had quite fooled the surprisingly perceptive physicist. Fred continued to run her fingers over Cordelia's hair in a calming gesture and Cordelia drifted off. She could sleep here... just for a minute.

[moontyrs]

Price of a Soul

Words: 4,374

Chapters: 2 of 13

Language: English

Fandoms:  Angel the Series

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Some violence

Characters: Faith Lehane, Angel, Cordelia Chase, Spike, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Lindsey McDonald, Lilah Morgan

Synopsis: Season 1 of Angel, Faith arrives but with a friend.  The team must deal with the fallout of past failures as enemies become allies

Angel had gone to the apartment below to make the call, which was taking quite awhile.  At least that’s what Cordelia thought as she was pouring over books that had absolutely no information on a rogue slayer.  She raised her head and winced, rubbing at a kink in her neck that was quickly developing.  Frowning at the book as though it did it on purpose, she sighed heavily and closed it loudly.  With a look around she saw that Wesley didn’t even notice.  She leaned with her chin in her hand and tried again, a louder, longer sigh.  Still nothing.

Just as she was about to clear her throat Angel stepped back into the office.  His steps were slow and his head was down.  She perked up and threw a pen at Wes to get his attention.

“Angel?  Any news?” she asked carefully.

With no answer and not even a glance in their direction, Cordelia looked to Wes who tried again.  Clearing his throat he stood up from the desk.  “We, haven’t found much yet, did you have better luck then?”

Angel lifted his head and then sat down heavily in the large chair.  “They know.  In Sunnydale.  Actually, it seems she woke up and went right for Buffy.”

Wesley and Cordelia exchanged a look and both moved from their positions to stand near Angel.

“She’s, all right isn’t she?”  Cordelia asked.  She knew that in the end, everything they were doing, helping Angel with this path, was to lead him back to her. Angel finally seemed to snap out of whatever he had been thinking and nodded, running a hand over his face.  

“The Mayor, had a plan for her.  Some device that allowed her to switch bodies with Buffy.  When the Council came for Faith and actually grabbed Buffy, in her body, she was able to convince them of the truth.  They destroyed the device but she did a lot of damage.”

Cordelia winced, who knew what kind of damage she could do while people thought she was Buffy, and honestly she didn’t want to try an imagine it.  Wesley on the other hand was already sweating.

“What, I mean, what did she do?  Is everyone, safe?”

Angel leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs and gave a rather sad sort of chuckle, that was worrisome. “Yeah, I mean, she, she got caught rescuing some people in a church.  Before that she uh, slept with Buffy’s new boyfriend though.”

Then they understood.  Cordelia sat on the edge of the arm of the chair and put a hand on Angel’s back.  

“I’m sorry.  I, didn’t know she’d started dating.”  For the first time, Cordelia was a little lost for words, though she had plenty for Buffy.

Angel sat up again and allowed Cordy lean her head into his.  “She’s, moved on.  I had to talk her down from coming here to kill Faith.  She told me, she told me that she moved on, and that it’s new and good and better.  Because she can trust him.”

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed and she sat up, opening her mouth to let loose, but Wesley stopped her with a clear of this throat.

“I, am sorry Angel, but Buffy is young.  She is living her life, which is what you both wanted.  At this point, I think we should put our energies elsewhere.  Like, finding Faith.”  His voice was reassuring but with that slight tinge of authority meant to guide.  Cordelia could have overridden it with her own diatribe but the phone rang.  She glared at Wes almost demanding he answer so she could talk to Angel, but he simply stared her down and she stood up with a grumble.  With a growl of frustration Cordelia reached for the phone.

"Angel Investigations we help the – "  Her usual bright eyed and big smiling response fell into a look of confusion then a frown. Suddenly both men were interested. Angel stood and Wesley removed his glasses leaning forward. With a lick of her lips, Cordelia held the phone out for Angel.  "It's, for you."

Angel looked at the two of them then reached for the phone.  "Angel."

Wesley's questioning look was met with her shaking her head, still confused. Most of the conversation was simply Angel humming in assent or nodding. At least the part they heard. Finally he hung up and stared at the phone a moment.  Then he went for his coat, the two trailing behind him.

"Well?" Cordelia asked anxiously.

Angel turned back to them as he looked through the weapons.  "It was a tip. Wolfram and Hart hired Faith, and set her up in an apartment. I'm going to check it out."  His voice had gone monotone.  Dark and determined. 

 Immediately Cordelia went to reach for the small crossbow in the weapons.  "Not alone you're not!"

Angel grabbed her arm and stopped her.  His face softened a bit as he looked at her and at Wesley.  "Yes I am. I'm taking the sewers, this is only a visual. No fighting, and I don't want you two getting hurt. Wes, keep an eye on her, I'll be back soon."  He turned and left as Wesley stepped up by Cordelia, who was already crossing her arms over her chest unhappily.

"He is just making sure we are safe."

"Says you! Wes he shouldn't be out there by himself and you know it.  Especially after that phone call."

He sighed and nodded. He knew she was right, that they should stick to working as a team, but he was hoping Angel was truly just checking out a tip and not dealing with the issue alone. In truth, he was worried about how dangerous Faith could be.

"Well, I guess we're back to research." He stated with a small smile.  With an audible groan Cordelia lowered her arms and let her head fall back onto his chest.

"Fine. You go get all those dusty books and I'm ordering lunch."

*************

Faith had done quite a bit of legwork.  She knew the area, she knew Angel’s usual haunts, she also knew where he went for information and who squealed to him more often than not.  So getting the information to Angel was a piece of cake and he took it like a kid on a sugar binge.  They knew timing was everything and so waited just long enough for Angel to be too far gone to   run back for anything and for the other two to get comfortable.  They would be in the office and they could easily slip into the building to look for the right moment to pounce.

Meanwhile, Wesley had books set aside for Cordelia, he had found some old records of rogue slayers, and was hoping to find some information on how to deal with them.  Other than death that was.  There had been a few of course, and the Council typically dealt with them quickly. They had to. Not having an active slayer was bad enough. Having one that did more harm than good set them back. The only reason they hadn't been more intent on Faith was that they still had Buffy.  Of course, as Faith was activated after Buffy, killing Faith would just call another slayer.  Which complicated matters.  What he was finding wasn't good. There had been no attempts at rehabilitation in generations. The ones they had made had failed miserably. Hearing soft footfalls he didn't raise his head, he only raised a hand to gesture behind him.

"Ah there you are, Cordelia would you hand me the Compendium behind you? Thank you."

He heard the book slide from the shelf but as he raised his head, he was blinded by it. His head snapping to the side and smacked into the desk, bouncing off of it. Stars burst behind his eyes and he blinked confused. There was no time to adjust as fingers dug into his scalp, pulled at hair and yanked his head back. Faith grinned down at him.  She had not seen Cordelia and so she and Spike had slipped in, going in separate directions as they stalked their prey.  Wesley asking for a book had made her shrug, after all, live by the book, die by the book, right?

"Hey there Wes. Long time no see, how's that watcher thing working out for you?"

He opened his mouth to answer and she slammed his head down again.  This wasn’t really a discussion.  Not as far as she was concerned anyway.  "It was rhetorical. You know what rhetorical means right? Like a watcher protecting his slayer? Rhetorical, means, not, doing, shit."  Faith bit out.  

While the end goal may have been breaking Angel, right now she was concentrating on his team.  More importantly, Wesley and she had plenty of hard feelings of her own to work out.

Wesley groaned, he couldn't help it. He felt blood trickle over his left eye and his glasses had broken and laid on the desk in pieces. She leaned to his ear and he shivered.  "Call in your friend. She's gonna want to see this." Faith smiled politely.

Wesley knew what she meant.  Cordelia, she was grabbing food and wasn’t in the office just yet.  So she was safe.  As long as he could keep Faith occupied anyway.  Shaking his head, hope flared that he could take care of this himself.  Worse case, he was going to end up mighty bruised, but he just had to keep her busy until Angel came back.   He realized Faith would have some unresolved hostility towards him, but it just truly hadn't occurred to him how much, or how dangerous it was.  Unfortunately, there was no way to warn Cordelia, to keep her away and within moments he heard her voice.

"Hey Wes, I hope Chinese is okayyyyyyyy"  Cordelia sang out as she rounded the corner to the office.  Walking in she froze, eyes had gone wide and quickly she dropped the food and looked for the nearest thing that could possibly be used as a weapon.  

Wes coughed and jerked his head from Faith’s hand, Faith immediately jerked his head back to stare at the ceiling, neck stretched back so hard he could barely breathe.  "Cordelia, run! Now!"  He managed to croak out and panicked when Faith loosened her grip and mimicked him.

"Cordelia, run." She whined at her.  Letting go of Wes she stepped behind him, hands at his shoulders, digging in and leaned her face against his.  “I dare ya.”

Wes winced, he wasn’t sure what was going on but he didn’t like it.  He hoped that she really was letting Cordelia go.  Perhaps as a message to Angel.  He stared at her and mouthed the words please.  

Cordelia was torn.  Sure, she could run, no way she could take Faith, but that slayer bitch had Wesley!  She could maybe at least distract her right?  Grabbing a coffee mug she threw it at Faith’s face and ran for her, but Faith was faster.  Stepping aside she knocked Cordelia to the ground with a punch to the gut and then shook her head.  

“Wow, I knew you weren’t bright but I didn’t think you were downright stupid.  One last chance, run.”  She added in a hiss.

With a glance to Wes she pushed herself up to standing.  He was swaying in his chair, bleeding from the head.  Oh she’d run all right.  Right to the weapons.  She started backing up and Faith just smiled at her.  Probably should have been her first warning.  Still once close to the door she spun around to run for the weapons, only to run right into someone’s chest. Hands grabbed her upper arms and pinned her in place, she hoped it was Angel but she already knew it wasn’t.  Pulling back, she couldn’t budge, the hands were so strong.  Shaken slightly she glanced up, right into Spike’s face.

"Well well, always did have a thing for cheerleaders. Gonna scream for me pet?" He purred at her.

Shivers ran over the back of her neck and she swallowed hard, she wasn’t going to scream for him, but it wasn’t from pride. Spike had turned her around and wrapped an arm around her chest, pinning her arms. A strangled sound came out and her head was yanked to the side. His face was in her neck and she closed her eyes just waiting for fang.  

Faith took a knee in front of Wesley and made a kind of ‘tsk tsk’ noise as she pushed the blood from his eyes and held his chin so he was looking at the scene behind her.  "So here's the deal, Wes. As long as you don't scream, we'll leave her alone. You scream, you beg, then we'll leave you alone. And start on her. Got it?"

Wes tried to nod, his head was killing him. It felt three times larger than it should be. He looked over at Spike, he hadn't bitten her, not yet.  He had to find a way to get them to leave her alone.  "Just, leave her here and I'll cooperate  It’s me you’re angry at Faith."

Spike licked along Cordelia’s neck, causing her to wince in disgust and try pulling away.  He had her head pinned in place and he stared at Wesley and Faith.  "What and give up fresh blood? I hear those visions make the blood, tasty."

Cordelia felt the sharp intake of breath before she realized it was hers.  Eyes widened slightly and she looked at Wesley, truly afraid.  They knew about her visions, they were prepared, she didn’t see how either of them were getting out of this.  Her fears were realized when Faith shook her head and pulled Wesley’s chin down to look at her.

"Oh no, you both get to come for the ride. But, wouldn't be very fair for us not to invite your boss right?"  With that she got up and pulled out a knife.  Grabbing Wesley’s hand she pulled the blade along his palm and Cordelia squeaked.  Faith just rolled her eyes and Spike licked his lips.  Grabbing an empty mug from the desk she pulled Wesley’s hand over it and made it into a fist, letting the blood fill the bottom of the cup. 

 Dropping his hand she turned on Spike and Faith, pointing the blade towards Cordelia.  Spike shook his head.  “Sorry luv, not wastin’ a drop o’ this.  Will knock her out for ya though.”

With that he bounced her head off the door frame and picked up her limp body.  Faith looked at Wes and with no warning, backhanded him and he went limp.

*************

Angel had decided to sneak through the sewers to the apartment building.  Hoping to catch Faith off guard, she was dangerous, most slayers were.  The difference was he knew the last time that he’d seen her, she had been mentally unstable as well.  Which was an even more dangerous situation.  He wanted to believe there was hope for her, had tried before to help her.  The thing was, Angel knew that you couldn’t help those that didn’t want your help.  You couldn’t save everyone, as much as you might try.

He came up the back of the apartments and took to the fire escape, still in the shadows of the building.  He knew it was on the fourth floor and he wasn’t taking any chances that she had the halls and stairs ready for him.  As he got up to the right floor he found a window cracked open and went to check it out.  It overlooked the hallway, and not an apartment, so carefully he pulled the sash open farther and slipped in.  The first thing he noticed was that it was quiet.  Too quiet, as if no one had lived in the building for a long while.  It was the kind of silence that was stale, letting you now it hadn’t been disturbed.  The layer of dust didn’t do much more to make him feel good about the situation.

Pinpricks ran up the back of his neck, it screamed trap and he knew he couldn’t turn back now.  He needed answers, he needed to get to Faith before she went too far.  4G, that was the apartment he was told about and it was at the end of the hall.  He slowly made his way down to the door and halfway down the hall noticed a note on the door.  Every muscle in his body tensed up as he told himself it wasn’t for him.  It wasn’t part of a trap.  As he got up there his eyes scanned the message and he yanked the paper from the door.  The handwriting was too familiar and made the whole situation even more dangerous.

Guess who joined the party? Just like old times, mate. Too bad you're neutered, we could have had a lot of fun. No worries though, your friends will keep the slayer and me company till you're ready to join in. P.S. Never did tell me, what's it like breaking a seer?

He crumpled up the note and ran, diving through the window at the end of the hall and jumping down the four flights to the ground. Hitting hard he rolled with the impact. He had to get back to the office. It had definitely been a trap, it just hadn’t been for him.  

The sewers would be fastest, so he ran through, water splashing around his ankles as he took the now familiar route back to his apartment in the basement of the building.  Rushing into his own living quarters he didn’t bother with the elevator but took the stairs two at a time to the office.  He knew withing feet of the door that he was too late.  The smell of blood struck him hard, like a slap to the face.

"Cor! Wes!"  He called out, in hopes that one of them were there, that both were still alive.  All that greeted him was a deafening silence.  His call echoed off the walls as if mocking him.  He had been so intent on the trap being for him, that Faith was there for him, that he had truly hoped that by keeping the other two away, they would be safe.  Especially if he left them at the office.  The office was safe, it was his home, it was their sanctuary, now it had been violated in the worst way. 

The familiar smell of Cordy’s perfume and Wesley’s books was all but obliterated by the smell of fear and blood.  As soon as he stepped into the office he was looking everywhere, trying to picture what had been done to them.  There was broken glass, Wesley’s glasses lay mangled on his desk, books were scattered and blood dripped from the chair onto the floor.  He saw the stain of it on his mug and without realizing it, he was reaching for it.  The smell of human blood was so much stronger than the stuff he usually drank and when he  noticed he was staring at it, his hand shook in anger.  This was their blood, he knew it.  Cordelia’s or Wesley’s, or worse both.  

He threw the mug to the wall and watched it break into a million pieces, blood splattering across the wall.  There wasn’t enough blood for them to be dead.  So they were taken alive, or better yet had somehow escaped.  That brief flare of hope was dashed when he saw the knife stuck into his desk, pinning another note.  This one again in Spike’s handwriting, though Faith had left her own mark as well.

I am disappointed. You're making this too easy, Angelus. Don’t worry, they are alive. They will be alive for days, don't forget, I learned from the best.

At the bottom, scrawled in the blood of his friends was the message: TAG YOUR IT.

*************

Wesley woke with a groan and tried to shift, but a cool hand to his head stopped him. He was laying on the floor, that much he knew. Giving his head a moment to stop spinning, he opened his eyes and realized they were in a windowless room, there were chairs to the side but he was on the floor, head in Cordelia's lap as she stroked at his hair.  He reached up to stop her hand and looked over her face, eyes drifting to her neck and relief flooding him that he saw no marks.

"Hey."  He tried to sound normal but it came out more strangled than he’d like.  Still he offered a small smile as well.

"Hey."  Cordelia replied, her own face pinched in pain, and tightness around her eyes had him frowning as he moved to sit up.  She tried to stop him but he held her hand and turned to sit and face her.  

"Cordelia, what is it?"  His voice held an equal amount of worry and fear.  When she simply shook her head and glanced to the door he turned to look as well.  Obviously they were locked in but that wasn’t her only worry.  No this was more.  Before he could press, she swallowed and looked at him.  Reaching with her other hand to his forehead where blood had dried.

"How are you feeling? She, she hit you a lot. In the head."

A slight wince at the reminder and he groaned. She reached for him to steady him and he sighed, giving her hand a squeeze of reassurance.  "I'll be fine. You look, hurt. Did they . . . "

She shook her head to reassure him and her eyes lit for a moment in anger.  "Oh no, I heard them, they'll leave me alone as long as they get to beat on you. Which, I have to tell you was the stupidest thing you've ever agreed to."  

A touch of fire threaded her voice and it gave him a small smile to know she was well enough to still yell at him.  Her shoulders slumped a bit and she sighed, squeezing his hand back.  "But thanks."

Wesley smiled back but heard the door open and jumped, moving to block her from it if he could.  Spike came in and tossed a bottle of pain killers and a bottle of water at Cordelia’s feet.  With a smirk he lit a cigarette, "That's one innocent not getting' saved huh? An' the watcher's awake. Time to play."

With that he turned and left, closing the door again, Wesley could hear the bolt slide into place locking them in. Cordelia had reached for the bottle like it was a life line and quickly doled out several pills. Wesley looked confused, she had said they hadn’t hurt her but she was nearly desperate for the pills.  That’s when he realized, he turned to her quickly, shock and worry threading his voice. 

 "Cordelia?"

She finished swallowing the pills and handed him the water, making sure she only took what she needed.  She knew what he was asking, but she would rather not talk about it and hoped to distract him.  "Here, drink the rest. I don't like whatever they've got planned for you.”

Off of his look she sighed, “ I,  I had a vision. While you were out cold. I told them I only have visions of innocents in trouble, for Angel to rescue and they left it alone.  They seemed almost, excited about it."

Wes knew it was more serious than that, her eyes refused to meet his. Brushing her hair from her face he looked at her.  This wasn’t the pain he was used to seeing after a vision hit, this wasn’t just worry, or even anger that they wouldn’t be able save the person.  Whatever it was she wasn’t saying, it pulled like a thread of pure fear through his stomach.  There was one possibility and it seemed the most obvious.  "Cordelia? No, tell me. Was it, this? Us?"

She shook her head and swallowed.  She couldn’t, it was just too much.  "No, not, not exactly. I mean, sort of. I saw, Lindsey."  She eek-ed out hoping it was enough.

"Makes sense that Wolfram and Hart have a hand in this."  Wesley grumbled. 

These days there was very little that they weren’t doing to try and cause problems for them.  Of course, death, torture, seemed a bit much for their usual tactics.  The fact that they were stepping it up was not a good sign.  Still, he saw there was more and just waited. She started sniffling, shoulders shaking and he wrapped an arm around her.  If she had to see, and worse feel, his torture and death before it happened he would kill Lindsey himself for putting her through it.  That, was a kind of torture  no one deserved.

"He killed me. I'm going to die Wes, and there's no one there. I die alone."  She barely breathed it and he went still.  His arms tightened around her.  He wasn’t there?  She hadn’t seen him, or Spike or Faith.  Just Lindsey, and just her, and her death.  This was no longer about vengeance of a slayer.  

“You’re, you’re sure.  I wasn’t, there or Spike or anyone?  It was, Lindsey?”

Pulling away slightly she wiped at her face, ashamed of having broken down in the first place.  With a nod she took a breath and steadied herself.  “I’m sure.  You were safe, I don’t know how I know but I do.  You were safe and somehow, I wasn’t here, it was someplace else.  A lab or something.”

She was so matter of fact about it now that she seemed almost resigned and he refused to give up.  Grabbing her shoulders he dipped his head to see her face.  Determination fixed his face. 

 "It won't happen. You know Angel won't let that happen. Neither will I."

She raised her head and her eyes held a sadness and resignation that chilled him to the bone.  “I don’t think, you have a choice.”

He opened his mouth to reply but they didn't get a chance to discuss it anymore as the door opened and Spike walked in with a duffel bag and Faith followed, dragging a chair.  She rubbed her hands together and smiled.  

"Time's up."

[buffster]

Consequences (BTVS 3.15)

This is part of my ongoing Buffy Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the show. You can find the full list here. Gifs are not mine.

Consequences is pretty single-minded in its focus on the fallout from Bad Girls. Buffy is feeling guilty and weighed down by the Deputy Mayor’s death (literally in her dream of drowning). Faith is keeping her from breaking the surface by not allowing them to tell. The body is found and Wesley sends them to investigate what happened. 

The way you read both sides of the Faith Goes Dark storyline depends on your personal interpretation of the characters. Personally, I think Faith has too much pride and too little trust to admit to anyone that she did something wrong. 

Faith: When you gonna learn, B? It doesn’t matter what kind of “vibe” a person gives off. Nine times out ten the face they’re showing you? It isn’t the real one.

No matter how good or trustworthy a person may seem, Faith doesn’t buy it. People are liars. Faith is kind of obsessed with getting people to admit things about themselves they’d rather not look at, but that’s another essay. In Faith’s mind her good qualities are the ability to remain “five-by-five” and detached. It’s her armor against the world, and taking responsibility would require laying it down. I also think that she senses that, though it could have been Buffy that committed the murder, it wasn’t and that makes all the difference. Killing him lit something in Faith that it wouldn’t have in Buffy; it sent her over the edge. And the other characters sense it too. 

Buffy: I am trying to protect you, Faith. If we don’t do the right thing it will only make things worse for you.

Angel: She killed a man. That changes everything for her.

Buffy detaches herself from the incident. Faith’s the one with the problem here. So taking responsibility would require more than simply saying, “There was an accident. I’m very sorry. Let’s move on.” She’d be required to confront and admit her inner darkness and instability. I don’t think Faith can stand the thought of being that vulnerable. Instead she pretends she doesn’t care and mentions that she’s prepared to get on a boat and flee.

Faith: You’re still not looking at the big picture, B. Something made us different. We're warriors. We were built to kill–

Buffy: To kill demons. But we don’t get to pass judgement on people, like we're better than everybody else–

Faith: We are better. That’s right. Better. People need us to survive. In the balance? Nobody’s gonna cry over some random bystander who got caught in the crossfire.

I think this is part justification for her crime, part obsession with slaying that started long before Sunnydale. Becoming the Slayer must have been amazing to Faith. Suddenly she’s strong, she can fight back, she’s got a purpose, and she’s practically got a divine sign that she’s special. Pretty much the dream for someone with Faith’s life. 

The police question Buffy and Faith. Buffy is nervous while Faith is all attitude and says, “I’m not the throw myself on the sword type”. Buffy finally goes to Willow, where things have been awkward. Willow is jealous of Faith, which you could interpret as a sign Buffy is her first lesbian crush or just simple worry over losing her first best friend. I read it as a little of both. Buffy confesses to her and decides to go to Giles, but Faith has beaten her to it. I think Faith tried to blame Buffy for the crime both because she didn’t want to face it and because she guessed (correctly) that Buffy would get less heat for it than she would. 

Giles: She’s unstable, Buffy. She seems utterly unable to accept responsibility. Shows no remorse.

I know Buffy and Giles have discussed Faith’s instability before. The others don’t seem entirely unsurprised either. It begs the question–why not try harder sooner? Xander thinks he has a connection with Faith and shows up against the advice of Buffy and Giles. Unfortunately he lets her know he doesn’t for a second believe it was Buffy that murdered the Deputy Mayor, which sets Faith on edge. 

This was a really dark scene. Faith immediately interprets Xander’s willingness to be on her side/help her as a bargain for a sexual relationship/bragging rights. She later tells Angel “That’s what they all say. Then it’s just let me stay for the night–I won’t try anything.” Her abusive references are so sad. I really wish we’d learned more about her past on the show. She assaults Xander.

Faith: I see. I want. I take. I forget.

Faith is turned on by sexual violence. She chokes Xander and is trying to kill him when Angel hits her over the head. I really don’t think enough attention was given to this incident for Xander or Faith. Xander can’t even speak when we see him later.

If anyone could have saved Faith here it was Angel. One of my favorite things about his character is his ability to read people. 

Angel: I bet you’re not big on trust games, are you Faith?

Angel: But you’re not a God. You’re not much more than a child. And this path will ruin you. You can't imagine the price for true evil.

Angel: You and me, Faith, we’re a lot alike.

Faith: Well, you’re kind of dead…

Angel: Like I said. A lot alike.

Faith: Sorry, buddy. I’m alive and kicking. In fact, I’ve got a bodily function that needs attending to pretty quick here.

Angel: You’re not alive. You’re just running. Afraid to feel. Afraid to be touched…

He’s reaching her, partly because he understands her. He too has a very dark and at times hopeless view of humanity. He too wonders why he should bother being good in the face of all that darkness. He too had a wild side that he used to forget the pain at home. 

Angel: Time was, I thought humans existed just to hurt each other.

But that’s when Wesley barges in and attempts to take Faith for the Council. I know he gets a lot of heat for that, but he believed he was doing the right thing. Wesley likes protocol and control. But he loses her literally and metaphorically. 

Buffy tracks Faith down as she’s preparing to get out of dodge. But Buffy isn’t the right person to confront her because she’s too easily provoked. Faith is a dark mirror for Buffy and that terrifies her. And Faith knows it.

Faith: But that’s not it. That’s not what bothers you so much. What bugs you is - you know I’m right. You know in your gut. We don’t need the law. We are the law-

If I would have remembered this line I would have been more worried about Buffy in season seven. But Faith has landed on a truth…with all the isolation and responsibility of the Slayer comes a hell of a lot of power. 

Faith: See - you need me to tow the line because you’re afraid you’ll go over it, aren’t you, B? You can’t handle watching me living my own way and having a blast - because it tempts you. You know it could be you-

Buffy punches Faith. Her fear and self-loathing of her inner darkness is already here and we see it go farther in season six. We never really got to see Buffy learn to accept her whole self and live with balance. Faith dusts Mr. Trick and saves Buffy. They go back to town together, but when they part ways Faith joins up with the Mayor. I think Faith was attracted to going darker and convincing herself her issues were the better way to be. To convince herself she was superior. She didn’t want to go to Buffy with her tail between her legs and constantly look at a bunch of people who had their shit together so much more than she did. Why not be praised for her flaws instead? There’s probably also a bit of pessimism that she could ever live up to “Little Miss Perfect” anyway. But that’s just my read.

Character Notes:

Rupert Giles: He doesn’t think the Deputy Mayor’s death is worth investigating. He tells Buffy slayers have accidentally killed people before.

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: He wants to investigate the Deputy Mayor’s death–he’s more cautious than Giles. The code word to talk to Quentin Travers is “monkey”. 

Cordelia Chase: She says she likes a man with two last names (Wesley) probably because he sounds high class/rich. She seems to like her effect on him more than him as a person.

Willow Rosenberg: She cries when she finds out Xander slept with Faith. Still not entirely over him or just sad that he didn’t tell her? She thinks that maybe Faith should be behind bars. 

[nothingleftofyou]

"The first lesson a watcher learns is to separate truth from illusion. Because in the world of magics, it's the hardest thing to do."

@hellsmouthstarters

[nothingleftofyou]

"hey, wes." the words replayed more then once over the years, etching into his mind like glass into skin. but this was the first time it was without wesley at the helm, someone else hitting the replay button for one of the worst moments of his life. "i just - i want you to know i understand why you did it. i know about the prophecies and i know how hard it must have been for you to… do what you did. you thought i was gonna turn evil and kill my son. i didn't. it's important you know that. this isn't angelus talking. it's me, angel. you know that, right?" wesley had blinked back then, to say 'yes' because his throat had been slit. the scar remained as a darklighter, and would remain in existence as long as wesley did. "good." a pillow, tucked under his head and then over his face. smothering. "you son of a bitch, you're gonna pay for what you did! you took my son! you son of a bitch! you bastard! you think I'd forgive you?! no! never! you're gonna die! you hear me? you're gonna pay! you took my son! you took my son!" wesley's back hit the brick behind him from the force that wasn't there. at least not currently. "you're dead! you're a dead man, pryce! you're dead! i'll kill you! i'll kill you! you're a dead man! dead! dead!" it took more then a moment for wesley to have the piece of mind that he wasn't there, to push forward with a gasp. he'd forgotten, intertwined in the memory, that he could still breath. "i'd gather by your expression..." he needed to catch his breath. " we witnessed two very different things."

@hellsmouthstarters

[nothingleftofyou]

wesley had a sharp memory. he had to, to retain all the infinite amount of history and knowledge of the supernatural he'd come to acquire. that same memory, however, worked against him when it came to things he would far rather forget. for instance the sound of connor crying, back when he'd been a baby that wesley had stolen and then lost. eyes clenched shut, willing the noise away. he was wrong, it was a random child, not--- and then, suddenly, it was gone. peculiar. eyes set upon him, his usual stiff posturer lightened. "it had been pj, if i recall correctly." he did, but that was a better opening then i am not as insane as i appear. well, he actually wasn't so sure these days.

@calamitcs

[nothingleftofyou]

> nothingleftofyou ⸻ a multimuse blog in association with the group @hellsmouthhq / penned by alana ♡︎

 X dawn summers |〈 jenna ortega › cisfemale › she/her › 18〉  X chris halliwell |〈 felix mallard › cismale › he/him › 22 〉  X stefan salvatore |〈 paul wesley › cismale › he/him › 18/166〉  X amelia mears |〈 millie gibson › cis female › she/her › 24 〉  X wesley wyndam pryce |〈 sen mitsuji › cis male › he/they › 31〉  X rory anson |〈 oliver stark › non-binary › he/they › 28〉  X temperance |〈 corrine massiah › cis female › she/her › 23/36〉  X drusilla |〈 rachel zegler › non binary › she/they › 130+ 〉  X freya mikaelson |〈 riley voelkel › cisfemale › she/her › 1000+ 〉

[nothingleftofyou]

another time, in another life, wesley would have been flabbergasted by the remark. now, he was more tiredly bemused then anything else. "there are almost 40 different dialects in the UK you see." it wasn't what they were really asking, but wesley seldom the opportunity to share their knowledge nowadays. "all sound fairly different from each other, and in many cases use different spellings and word structure. in fact, there's practically one accent per county. my own is called received pronunciation, i was raised in london." though wesley was well aware that the accent they had had shifted during the time spent in la. less stiff, more loose, it came time in the city.

❝   s'   the   same   thing,   yeah   ??    ❝   too   far   removed   from   youssef   to   pay   much   mind   to   ----   it   may   as   well   have   been   a   whole   other   world.   ❝   -figure   that   not   even   the   english   all   talk   like   they   swallowed   a   thesaurus,   though.   you   talk   like   you're   on   the   campaign   trail.   ❝

[buffster]

The Prom (BTVS 3.20)

This is part of my ongoing Buffy Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the show. You can find the full list here. Gifs are not mine.

In the words of Daniel “Oz” Osbourne, once again the hellmouth puts the “special” in special occasion. Hellhounds, oh my!

The Prom was mostly about the break up. Buffy and Angel start the episode waking up from a post-slayage nap that lasted all night. Buffy mentions getting a drawer at his place (I guess her mom has given up on dictating what the Slayer can do–she doesn’t have office hours) and he gets uncomfortable. He later sees that her notebook has “Buffy and Angel Forever” written on it with hearts. The relationship is so strange. Buffy is appropriately young and he’s just…not. 

Joyce decides to confront Angel, and it’s this second speech that finally gets to him. 

Joyce: When it comes to you, Angel, Buffy’s not a slayer. She’s just like any other young woman in love. You’re all she can see of tomorrow. But I think we both know there’s gonna be some hard choices ahead. If she can’t make them, you’re going to have to. I know you care about her. I just hope you care enough.

I get that it was perhaps overstepping boundaries (and seriously uncool) for Joyce to talk to Buffy’s boyfriend. But Buffy is off to college soon and Joyce is, in her way, trying to send her off to the best life possible. And she is a little young to have such a difficult, stressful relationship. 

Angel dreams that he and Buffy get married. He steps into the sunlight, unfazed, but she burns. It symbolizes his feelings about them: it makes his life better but hers worse. 

Angel: I’ve been thinking. About our future. And the more I do, the more I feel like us–you and me being together–is unfair to you. You deserve more. You deserve something outside of demons and darkness. You should have someone who can take you into the light. Someone who can make love to you–

Buffy: I don’t care about that!

Angel: You will. And children–

Buffy: Children? Can you say jumping the gun? I kill my goldfish!

Angel: Today. But you have no idea how fast it foes, Buffy. Before you know it, you’ll want it all–a normal life.

Buffy: I’ll never have a normal life.

Angel: Right. You’ll always be a slayer. But that’s all the more reason why you should have a real relationship instead of this…this freak show.

Buffy tries to run out at this point, which is typical Buffy behavior. He makes good points here, though. Sex isn’t everything but being celibate is kind of a big deal. Not to mention all the things they can’t do because of the sun. And, as Angel says, her life will be complicated enough by slaying. Why complicate it more?

Buffy: I’ll never change. I want my life to be with you.

Angel: I don’t.

This was really sad (although, contrary to Buffy’s interpretation, I think Angel was trying to say I don’t want your life to be with me. Not I don’t want my life to be with you). I know this is supposed to be one of those typical first love lines where she eventually does change, but…does she? I don’t know if Buffy ever stops wanting Angel. But she is aware their relationship is too complicated and admits this to Willow. I thought it was interesting how Willow voiced, for the very first time, that she didn’t really believe Angel and Buffy were a good idea. She’s always been completely supportive prior to Buffy admitting it herself.

Anya approaches Xander for a date. She says she took on the guise of a twelfth grader to reel in Cordelia, so now she has twelfth grade feelings like wanting to go to the dance. Xander agrees to go and is dipping into his road trip fund for a tux. These subtle references to Xander’s lack of parents are kind of depressing.

Xander discovers that Cordelia is now broke (because of her father’s tax fraud) and working to buy a prom dress. He conceals the truth from the Scoobies and eventually pays off the rest of the dress, which was a really decent thing to do (especially coming from someone poor). He never holds it over her head or expects anything either. File this under moments Xander should get credit for. Cordelia dances with Wesley at the prom and Xander dances with Anya. 

I’ll never stop loving the little character quirks that become useful in the fight against evil. This episode: Cordelia’s obsession with fashion. She discovers the hellhounds are trained to attack formal wear. 

Cordelia: Look! Right there. Zoom in on that.

Xander: Zoom in? This is a video tape.

Cordelia: So? They do it on TV all the time.

Xander: Not with a regular VCR they don’t.

The above isn’t important at all. I just wanted to say Nicky’s delivery here always makes me laugh.

Buffy: No. You guys are gonna have a prom. The kind of prom everyone should have. I will give you all a nice, fun, normal evening… if I have to kill every single person on the face of the Earth to do it.

Buffy resolves to give her friends the perfect prom even if she can’t have one, which is one of the reasons I love her. I admire her ability to be constructive with pain (sometimes, anyway). She pretends to be over wanting her perfect high school moment. Giles is very sympathetic and kind to her, but these days I can’t help but notice it’s only Buffy that he plays father to. Major character flaw alert. 

This, by the way, is the episode where Tucker Wells (Andrew’s brother) raises hellhounds because a girl turned him down for prom. Thinking maybe Andrew’s obsession with Warren came from a certain similar brother?

Jonathan: We’re not good friends. Most of us never found the time to get to know you. But that doesn't mean we haven’t noticed you. We don’t talk about it much, but it's no secret Sunnydale High isn’t really like other schools. A lot of weird stuff happens here. But whenever there was a problem or something creepy happened, you seemed to show up and stop it. Most of the people here have been saved by you, or helped by you, at one time or another. We’re proud to say that the class of '99 has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale history. And we know at least part of that is because of you. So the senior class offers its thanks, and …gives you, uh, this…It’s from all of us, and it’s got written here, “Buffy Summers. Class Protector.”

Look, I know this was one of those this-would-never-happen moments, but I don’t care. I get teary watching it every time. It’s just such a beautiful moment and so, so deserved after everything Buffy’s done. Angel returns to be her date and they enjoy a last moment of happiness while “Wild Horses” plays.

Character Notes:

Anya Jenkins: She once made a guy’s head explode feet away from his ex. She made a lot of body parts fall off during the plague, which she found boring since it was happening already. One man cannibalized himself, which she found hard to watch. She is obsessed with her work.

Rupert Giles: He went to an all male prep school.

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: He went to an all male prep school and they would sometimes make the lower-class men get up as girls and–He doesn’t finish.

Jonathan Levinson: He arrives with an actual date to the Prom.

Daniel Osbourne: He says the Prom is strangely affecting and he teared up during “We Are Family”.

Xander Harris: He’s upset about losing Class Clown to a “prop guy”, otherwise known as an attention-getter that’s more flamboyant than funny. I sympathized here because Xander is really funny and I’ve always preferred witty to obnoxious. But to each their own.

Buffy Summers: She finally admits she gets something out of slaying and says “kicking ass is comfort food”. 

[buffster]

Choices (BTVS 3.19)

This is part of my ongoing Buffy Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the show. You can find the full list here. Gifs are not mine.

An episode of Choices. Which is more significant–where everyone’s going to college or damning a bunch of people to save Willow?

It’s only this time around that I’m beginning to appreciate the relationship between the Mayor and Faith. He’s looking for someone to control and she is looking to be controlled. She wouldn’t put it that way, of course, but she craves guidance and approval. He balances doses of approval and guiding her towards what he wants: manners, dressing differently, etc. Faith is actually quite moldable if she feels she can trust you. He reads her well and notices that she gets upset at “the B word”. I never noticed it before, but his speech to Angel at the end of the episode was motivated by making Faith feel better about Buffy and Angel’s relationship. He was trying to make her see there was no reason to be jealous. 

The Mayor buys Faith a knife. Her mother wouldn’t even buy her toys growing up so someone spending money on her–especially on something she really likes–is a big deal.

Everyone is discussing their plans for next year. Willow has many top-notch choices to chose from while Oz has remained quiet on the matter. Xander is reading On the Road for some inspiration for his big road trip. On the Road is largely about a search for meaning which is never found.

Xander: We Bohemian, anti-establishment types are used to being persecuted.

Oz: Well, sure. You’re all so weird.

Ironic, because Oz fits the description far better than Xander. Cordelia walks up and makes a snide comment and Xander jumps to announce Willow got into Oxford. Bad move when Willow’s the reason she’s so pissed at you, Xander. Willow accuses him of making her “chip” worse. He does follow her into the store where she’s now working and call her a mean-spirited, superficial princess so…fair enough. Their insults seem meaner without the kissing to break it all up.

Cordelia: I’m sorry, Buffy. this conversation is reserved for people who actually have a future.

That was cold. It upsets Buffy enough to run to Wesley and Giles to try and configure a way around her destiny. She thinks if she captures Faith, stops the ascension, and agrees to come home during breaks she can make leaving Sunnydale work. It’s a vain hope and by episode’s end she’s accepted it.

The gang immediately turns to Willow now when magic needs to be done and Giles doesn’t say a word. She works on the protective spells the Mayor has going on his box and gives Xander and Oz instructions on how to destroy it (complete with stick figure Oz holding a guitar). Oz says there’s “nobody like my Will”. But then Faith kidnaps her.

Wesley: This box is the key to the Mayor’s Ascension. Thousands of lives depend on our getting rid of it. Now I want to help Willow as much as the rest of you but we will find another way.

Buffy: There is no other way.

Wesley: You’re the one who said take the fight to the Mayor and you were right. This is the town’s best hope of survival – it’s your chance to get out!

Buffy: You think I care about that? Are you made of human parts?

Giles: All right, let’s deal with this rationally –

Buffy: I can’t believe you’re taking his side!

It’s funny that Giles says they should discuss things rationally and they say he’s taking Wesley’s side. They know that’s the rational thing to do. Wesley is being the most pragmatic and taking the “one for the many” stance. It’s understandable but also understandable that condemning your friend to die would be really hard to do. It’s much easier when you don’t really know the face you’re sacrificing. This is who Buffy is…the hero, the one who can’t not save someone no matter the cost. We see in season five that Giles takes the Watcher’s Council/Wesley’s stance when it comes to condemning a few innocents to save the many. By season seven Buffy claims she could kill Dawn to save the world. I’m not sure if I think that change is a good thing or not, but Buffy definitely feels more responsible for the world/feels the weight of it all much more heavily by season seven. Let me know your stance on Buffy’s choice: selfish or heroic?

Oz breaks the pot that was going to be used to destroy the box, effectively ending the conversation. Willow uses magic to stake a vampire and has the opportunity to escape, but instead she goes looking through the Books of Ascension. Willow wants to be of value so badly she puts her own life at risk.

WILLOW: It didn’t have to be this way, but you made your choice. I know you’ve had a tough life. I know some people think you’ve had a lot of bad breaks, and that you've hardened your heart to protect yourself from the pain. Well, boo-hoo. Poor you. You had a lot more in your life than some people. You had friends like Buffy. Now you’ve got no one. And you were a slayer! One of the Chosen. Now you're nothing. Just a selfish, worthless, waste.

At this point I think her speech to Faith is fair. Someone needs to tell her her tough life isn’t an excuse to murder people. It’s also telling that Willow mentions her being a Slayer…Willow doesn’t understand how you could turn your back on that kind of specialness. Faith’s response is to punch her and say she does have someone.

They go to make the exchange at the High School.

MAYOR: Well, I wish you kids the best, I really do. But if you don’t mind a bit of fatherly advice, I, well gosh I don’t see much of a future for you two. I don’t sense a lasting relationship, and not just because I plan to kill the both of you. You have a bumpy road ahead.

BUFFY: I don’t think we need to talk about this.

MAYOR: You kids, you don’t like to think about the future, don’t like to plan but unless you want Faith to gut your friend like a seabass you’ll show a little respect for your elders.

ANGEL: You’re not my elder. I gotta lot of years on you.

MAYOR: And that’s just one of the things you’re gonna have to deal with. You’re immortal, she’s not. It's not easy. I married my Edna Mae in aught three and I was with her right until the end. Not a pretty scene. Wrinkled and senile and cursing me for my youth, it wasn’t our happiest time. And let’s forget the fact that any moment of true happiness will turn you evil. What kind of life can you offer her? I don’t see a lot of Sunday picnics in the offing. Skulking in the shadows, hiding from the sun – she’s a blossoming young girl! You want to keep her from the life she should have till it’s passed her by and by God I think that’s a little selfish. Is that what you came back from Hell for? Is that your greater purpose?

The speech upsets both Angel and Buffy. It’s interesting to me because at this point Buffy still has hope her life will end up being normal, which is why she lets Angel go. In later seasons she’d probably just roll her eyes and say she’s always in the shadows anyway. 

They make the exchange and are back at square one aside from the pages Willow managed to steal. She decides to go to UC Sunnydale, saying she wants in on the fight against evil. But I think it’s more about her chance to be special and powerful. Indeed, she says, “Besides, I’ve got a shot at being a bad ass Wicca, and what better place to learn?”. 

Character Notes:

Buffy Summers: She got into Northwestern. She has a cousin named Arlene living in Illinois. She likes mochas. She calls Angel “honey”.

Willow Rosenberg: She got into Oxford. She likes mochas.

Angel: Buffy calls him “honey”.

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: He freaks out every time they don’t have a watches-in-sync-with-all-variables-accounted-for plan for every fight. But sometimes it’s helpful, like when he remembers the box will have spells guarding it.

The Mayor: He had an Irish-settler named Rusty. He says a dog’s friendship is stronger than reason or self-preservation and compares this to Buffy.

[nothingleftofyou]

"in my experience it's usually called england," he said. "but to each their own i suppose." most likely the other was referring to the lack of being human, but wesley's topic of choice would remain anything but. so he deflected, knowing it would unlikely deter the other but trying anyway. they always had to try.

❝    jesus ,   where   the   hell  are   you   people   from   ??   krypton   ??    ❝

[nothingleftofyou]

there was little left of the watcher's council. wesley's own father, a man that wesley was almost certain wasn't mourning him. they had all been destroyed at the hand of the first and still wesley himself had been considered a bigger failure by the man. words that hadn't come from rodger wyndam-pryce's lips but wesley knew as truth all the same. himself and giles were perhaps the only watchers left who had ever had a slayer in their charge, and both had changed so completely from who they once had been. in wesley's own case he knew it both for better and for worse.

"it's hard to say, quite honestly." wesley confessed. kindness or cruelty, time had dealt him different hands as the years passed. it was wesley himself however who was the master of his own fate, and eventually the lack of kindness time provided. "any lack of kindness had been my own making." choices that could have been handled with care, wesley handled them alone and the consequences were suffered upon not only himself. despite himself, the firmness of his expression began to slip. not soft per say but... looser. "i see." one couldn't change a mind that had already been made up. so then, friends. "it'd been quite some time since i've been anyone's friend." not since he had died in illyria's arms. "do forgive inevitable missteps." for which there would be plenty.

giles didn't consider himself of anything great, truly, knowing that he himself had made mistakes. he wasn't often the best to speak to if you wanted something other than intellectual advice or someone with experience but HE DID TRY when his walls came down. in more ways than one, that had changed with a rag tag team of misfit teenagers whom he now considered his family. being a watcher meant you'd never have kids, not unless you were essentially breeding them to be some next great watcher hopefully for the next generation's slayer. giles couldn't do that. he didn't have the stomach for what he now considered a cult. distance was definitely a better word for it. retirement only made him feel old. oh when had his last birthday been? giles couldn't remember. life always seemed to get in the way for him but he always TRIED for the scoobies. "time it is," giles agreed with a head nod yes.

he realized once that if he felt like this, who else who'd been a watcher felt the same way? the society didn't truly prepare you for the real world; only to be a guiding voice in the back of a slayer's mind or on some committee within the society. not everyone was given a chance to see it wasn't for them -- but then what? what came after? "if i weren't mistaken, i should assume time hasn't been," for the lack thereof a better word, "kind to you, wesley?" he couldn't help feel like it was a warning, a shot in the dark if you will. "i wasn't always the kindest, i'll agree. i was a bit of a high strung ass myself but please know, my words have weight. we've lost far too much to be considered anything else." oh, did they lose too much. giles felt like a failure most times. he could only remember the times he'd failed. human or not, hauntings weren't reserved for those of the supernaturally inclined.

[nothingleftofyou]

"i've shared similiar sentiments." confessed wesley. the shape of his reflection had long become one he didn't recognize, expecting someone else to recognize what he'd become was implausible even for a man of giles substantial intellect. long ago deep admiration had become reluctant frustration and then indignation at the man before him. it was only towards the end that wesley had come to see past his own foolishness but by then the shame he compiled had been too great for even the watcher's council, let alone the inhabitants of sunnydale. "give it time." wesley responded, something of a jest. no, he was no longer a pompous ass in that simple regard. but finding himself making disagreeable decisions was an unfortunate familiarity, and the word 'ass' remained applicable more often then not. "on that we both agree." indubitably, the person wesley had become since being canned was someone with far more impact and whether that was for the better or worse depended on where one stood.

there was a deep consideration in wesley's mind. a moment of doubt for the word 'friend' at all. doubt that didn't rest on mr. giles but rather for all wesley had done that giles didn't know, all that wesley was. he'd become a darklighter after death, sent to hell. he wouldn't be an enemy willingly, not unless varied opinions put himself and giles on opposite ends of life or death odds. it was unlikelihood but not an impossibility, nothing ever was. the question of if the benefits outweighed the risks were what wesley considered most. both for his own and giles's sake. "are you certain extending such thing would be wise? distance and time changes one, but not always for the better." wesley warned. "that being said, do you remain certain that calling me 'friend' is still a choice you are willing to make?" to risk.

"i can't even tell you what i expected," giles admitted quite frankly. the two were more or less half in and half out of understanding. truth be told, giles never quite saw him as a watcher -- but giles himself came to learn that being a watcher wasn't anything all that great. it was more of a cash grab cult for the humans who wished to control the supernatural. could anyone really say they were meant to be a watcher? things had happened, things had changed. giles saw something in wesley he liked, presently. "time is friends with distance, is it not? i can tell you from what i've already seen, you're less." which was, after all a compliment. "things have changed. it turns out not being a watcher opens your eyes in more ways than one, and in a place like this, we're going to need friends. don't you think?"