Postcards from the Edge: Empty

Maybe it's been a little too long
Holding it in, trying to be strong
Funny the things we bottle up
Come streaming out when you feel enough
There is a trust the cautious will lack
Now that we've touched there's no holding back
I want to call out for love 'til I can't breathe
I want to stare at the truth 'til I can't see
I want to pour out my soul 'til I'm empty.

Empty - Terri Clark

---

CONNOR

It's late and I'm tired. I still have to pick a room for the night, well technically day since I think the sun's rising. I need to pick a room to live in for a while when I get right down to it. I should have done this as soon as we came through the door but Fred mugged us with hugs the moment we stepped inside. Poor Pushy got squished in the hug assault. Fred was pretty excited about my new pet. Wes and Gunn were less enthusiastic but Fred pointed out that the hotel had mice by the dozens and a cat would help.

Fred hadn't lied to us while we were gone. She had all of Dad's postcards put up on the hotel's big refrigerator. It was sweet. It made me think of family and for a moment I felt sad at the thought. Thinking about family felt good. I hadn't realized until recently how much I was longing for family. It had always just been me and Father.

Then I remember Cordy and our baby and all that goodness drained out of me. I have to remember that it wasn't my baby but it didn't help. I had fallen in love with the idea of having a family. Maybe it would have hit me later, the awesome responsibility it was but I wanted what Cordy had promised me; a normal life, a happy family.

And when it was taken away I felt like the world ended and I was dead. It took that vacation to bring me back to life. I learned that family isn't always Mom, Dad and kids. It can be different. Mine was different. I had an adopted father in Holtz, my real Dad even if I didn't want him some of the time, Fred and Gunn who tried to be like older siblings when they were taking care of me after I tossed Angel into the ocean; a demon uncle. Okay, I wasn't keen on having any dealings with Lorne still, but I could tolerate him for everyone's sake. And Faith wasn't family since then that would make what we were doing icky and wrong.

Me, Faith and Dad weren't prepared for how excited Fred was to have us back. Or maybe Lorne was helping her since I don't see Gunn and Wes wanting us to wear party hats for our welcome home party. Fred had more food than I've ever seen in one place. Neither she nor Faith were satisfied until I ate nearly three plates full. I wish I knew why everyone was so obsessed with my weight. I'm perfectly built for my size, which I've come to realize is small. I'm the same size as the girls. Even Lorne is bigger than me. It's humiliating.

But Cordy never minded my size. Please, brain, don't go back there. I can't deal with thinking about her. It was easy on vacation to let her free from the cage of my imagination but I knew once I came into the hotel that she'd be like a ghost in my heart. And our"her baby, I'm still having nightmares about that.

Focus, Connor. Think about the homecoming party. It was sweet of Fred to do that, really. I think she's starting to forgive me for what me and Justine did to Dad. We watched the tapes making sure the Knotts Berry farm one was first. It was our first stop after all. Dad kept moaning about not watching it before, during and even after we played the tape. We all got a laugh, a real honest deep to the bone laugh. Watching the tape of Dad screaming on the Ghostrider was like being there again. Dad, the big bad vampire, screaming like a sissy would only get funnier every time I watch it.

I was a little worried about the tape of me crying on the top of Harney Peak. I don't mind laughing at Dad but I wasn't ready to be made fun of myself. But no one laughed. They were crying, too, even Gunn but he was blaming poor Pushy for getting hair in his eyes. That's when I realized that these people were my family. They cared about me, they felt my pain and joy. The might not be the family I pictured and they sure weren't perfect but neither am I. I needed to be nicer to them.

At some point Angel passed out souvenirs. I didn't know people did stuff like that but I guess that explains all the shops at all the attractions. It's not like I had money to get anything for anyone even if I had known. It was nearly dawn before we thought about heading for bed. Dad let Faith use his since he was keyed up and couldn't sleep. And there wasn't any beds really made up for her. I think Fred got so carried away with the party she forgot Faith might actually need a bedroom. I took her upstairs and left her at Dad's room. I wanted to go in with her. I didn't want sex. I just wanted someone to hold onto tonight. But Dad made it clear it was off limits. I think if he knew what I was feeling he wouldn't mind but as it was I didn't want to disrespect him.

That left me trying to find a room of my own and I'm still looking. The upstairs is too rotted and raggedy to use. I couldn't sleep in my room or Cordy's. Both beds smelled like her and I couldn't handle it. I simply couldn't. I'd remember her soft touch, the look in her eyes when her mind shattered, the baby. So now I was roaming the halls, ready to drop and I didn't know where to sleep. I guess the downstairs couch would do. It was my usual place anyhow. Cordy called it my sulking spot. And just my luck, Lorne was on his way up to his room as I was coming down.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, muffin?"

"Can't sleep," I lied. I could. I'm ready to fall down I'm so tired. And why does he have to call me by some stupid nickname all the time? It's annoying.

"Like father like son." He smiled at me.

I tried not to snarl. I really hated that saying. I guess I'm still not ready to be like Dad. "Guess so."

I brushed past him, going faster. I know Lorne means well and he seems not to be holding a grudge over the fact I slammed him up against the wall tonight. How was I to know confetti is a harmless way of celebrating? I thought he was sprinkling me with some sort of bad magic stuff.

I heard voices coming up from the practice room in the basement; Dad and Faith. Guess she couldn't sleep either after I left her. I started down the steps then sat down and listened a little. I know its wrong and that I shouldn't do it. I just wanted to know what Dad was saying to her, if he was talking about me. But as I listened I felt better. They really weren't saying anything that should concern me. No one was saying Faith being with me as wrong like I feared. Finally I decided I'd better stop eavesdropping or Dad and Faith were highly likely to beat me simple if they caught me. Heaven knows Father would have. How else was I to learn right from wrong? If I was bad, I got a stropping. I knew this was wrong.

I went back to my couch and tried to curl up on it. It wasn't easy to lie down comfortably on a round couch. I was almost asleep when someone shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes and Dad was looming over me. He smiled.

"You can't sleep here, son. It's not good for your back."

"Can't sleep in my room"can't stop thinking about Cordy," I muttered sleepily, sitting up.

"I didn't even think about that." Angel sighed, patting my shoulder. His hands are so big. "I'm sorry, Connor. We should have found you some place to sack out. But this couch isn't the place. You'll be too sore to move when you wake up."

"Are you done downstairs? I can sleep on a mat," I said, getting up. I could hear grunting from downstairs and the sounds of fists on leather. Faith must still be working out.

"I'm done. Faith's not. Try to get some sleep," Angel said and left it at that.

He went into his office and I headed downstairs. Faith didn't even notice me on the steps as she pounded the punching bag. Tears streamed down her face.

What had Dad said to her? If he did anything to her I'd"what would I do? I don't know. Just a few weeks ago I'd have said I'd kill him and mean it. But now I don't want that. It surprised me. "Faith," I whispered.

She whirled and the bag's back swing nearly toppled her when it hit her in the back. "Connor. Can't sleep either?"

"No. Everything"smells like Cordy," I choked, trying not to cry. I know men aren't supposed to. I do it too much. And Faith needed me to be strong for her right now. She was hurting, too. I went over to her and she pulled away as I tried to touch her face. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing bad, Connor." Faith grabbed a towel, wiping her face. She tried to smile. "More like happy tears."

I couldn't doubt her. That would make me a jerk but I still couldn't just trust Dad without question. "I was going to sleep on the practice mats. I can wait until you're done."

I went over and took a seat on a mat far enough away so not to get in the way of her work out. But sitting there the scent of Cordelia, who probably took countless tumbles on the mat, overwhelmed me. It banished the smells of Faith and Dad's sweat. Something in me broke and the tears flooded out before I could stop them. I crumpled up over my knees, crushing my face against them. "It smells like her."

Somehow Faith was at my side, dragging me against her. "Oh, baby, it's okay."

"No." It came out as a wail and there was no stopping that river coming out of me.

Faith just squashed me against her hot, sweating body. I buried my face in her hair, drinking in her natural spicy odor. It cast Cordelia from my soul but it took a while for my tears to end as she rocked me. She took her towel and cleaned my face.

"I know this is hard for you," she said, brushing my hair off my face. "You really loved her."

"Faith, I care about you t-" She silenced me with a finger to my lips.

"I'm not looking for you to say that, Connor. I just wanted you to understand that I know how you felt about Cordelia," she said. There was no judgment there or criticism. Faith was offering me complete acceptance.

I grabbed her, all but hauling her into my lap, kissing her roughly. I needed her to keep the horror away from me, to banish the specter of what had happened. I wanted her to know I needed her and I think she knew as she sucked my tongue into her mouth. My body responded even though I didn't want it to. I was like stone and she had to feel it pressing against her. She laid back against the blue mat, pulling me on top of her. This wasn't what I wanted. She meant more to me than this. The conflict must have shown in my face.

"It's okay." She rubbed my erection, fumbling with my zipper.

I pushed away from her, shaking my head. I wanted to drive myself into her, to be one with her, to lose myself in her spice. I felt brutal and she didn't deserve that. I was afraid of myself. Where did such feelings come from? My demon aspect? No, don't think about that. It can't be true. I'm not a demon but deep down I knew I was, even as that knowledge killed me. "No," I managed to say. "I'll hurt you."

She ran a hand over my cheek and I jerked away. It was too much like how Cordy used to touch me. "It's all right," she said, pulling me close again, tucking me alongside her. "Just relax. We don't have to do anything."

"Hold me," I pleaded brokenly.

And she did without question. We lay on that mat, clinging to each other until we fell asleep, warm and safe in each other's arms.

---

Empty - Terri Clark

---

FAITH

I woke up on my side, stiff from sleeping on the floor. My skin itched from dried sweat. Connor was wrapped tight against my back, his leg tossed carelessly over mine and his arms enveloped my chest. He was asleep, drooling on my shoulder. Part of him was awake though, poking into the curve of my ass.

Men! How did they wake up like this all the time? I should teach him the joys of morning sex. I couldn't believe he had pulled back last night. For a kid, he had amazing self-control. I knew what he wanted. I've been part of desperation fucks like the one he was headed for last night. The sheer animal nature of it driving all conscious thought out of our minds, taking away whatever pain that was compelling it. He wanted more than the ugliness, which shocked me. What did Connor feel for me? Was I ready for someone to feel more for me than mere lust? He seemed like someone who could just give his heart freely, completely and all too easily. He wanted love like a dying flower wants rain.

I reached back, undid his zip and massaged his cock. He murmured, tightening his grip. That's when I heard Gunn say, "I think I left it downstairs," and he came pounding down the steps.

Connor's head snapped up off my shoulder, the sound waking him. Gunn stopped, stared at my hand buried in Connor's pants, whirled and raced right back up the steps. I burst out laughing, pulling my hand free.

"What's happening?" Connor asked blearily.

"Nothing, baby. Did you manage to get some sleep?"

He rolled off of me. "Some." He seemed suddenly aware of his morning wood and shot me an embarrassed look.

I smiled wickedly.

"He'll probably be back." Connor pointed up the stairs.

"Or he might just stay away," I said, kissing him but I could see he was flagging already. He zipped up. He had a sense of modesty that he was only just beginning to shed. Somehow I think Angel wouldn't be pleased if I encouraged that slide.

"Dad will kill me if I make that big of a spectacle of myself," he said, kissing me back.

"You could blame me," I said.

He laughed, his lips moving against mine. Then he sat back, sobering. "Why are you with me?"

I took a deep breath. I knew he was self conscious about that after the way Cordelia's demon had twisted his head around. "I like you, that's why."

"You're a Slayer." He frowned and I saw the change in his eyes. He was so somber it was scary. "You're supposed to kill demons. I'm a demon. I just look like a man."

I hugged him fiercely. "You're not a demon. Don't you believe that." He was part demon, of course. But I saw what that meant to him. I couldn't let him hurt that much.

"I am. The anti-demon violence spell stopped me." That tore out of him almost as a harsh sob.

"You might have a demon aspect but you have a soul. You're human enough. Angel told me so. Your mother could feel that soul. It made her kill herself to save you. If you were nothing but a demon she never would have thought to make such a sacrifice," I argued and watched to see if my words were going to have any effect on him. They did. I could see him struggling with his emotions but he was winning the battle.

"Thanks, Faith," he murmured, his lips moving against my neck.

I tightened my grip on him. "You're welcome."

He hugged back until his stomach growled loudly. He blushed. I patted his belly. "Go put something in that tiny cave you call a stomach."

He pouted so much like Angel it wasn't funny. Both men would deny they pouted under threat of pain and death but they did. "It's not tiny."

"Right." I got up and dragged him to his feet.

We headed upstairs. It would have been a lot less awkward without Gunn, Wes, Fred and Lorne watching the entranceway. Connor turned bright red then bolted for the kitchen leaving me behind. The boy needed a few lessons in chivalry.

"Uh, hi." I waved. I've never been shy about my sexual exploits. I don't plan on starting now. I'm not ashamed of being with Connor but I had learned enough to know it might be a sensitive topic, especially given the ordeal with Cordelia.

"You made me nearly go blind." Gunn grinned.

"That'll teach you to just blunder around the hotel," I shot back.

"Does, um"" Fred ducked her head, hiding behind her hair. "Angel know about the two of you?"

"Unless he's blind, deaf and dumb, I'd go with yeah. He's cool with it." They didn't seem to believe me. Or maybe they were just feeling protective of the kid. He could get really hurt opening up to me this fast. "I know the kid's on the rebound and he's been through some shit and all the other negatives about this."

"But you make each other happy," Wes finished for me.

I laughed softly. That truth surprised me. "Yeah."

"That's the important thing, spice cake," Lorne said, sipping at whatever mixed drink he had now. I wondered if his kind needed alcohol the way we need water. He certainly drank enough of it.

I tapped my hand on the desk. "Wes, you and I need to talk as soon as I hit the bathroom and grab something to eat."

He looked at me with curious eyes. Wes had the prettiest blue eyes but I had never noticed before. They weren't quite as dark as Connor's and I was still wondering where the kid got those eyes. "Of course, Faith."

I jogged to the closest restroom. That task done, I grabbed some donuts from the big box on the kitchen counter. Connor had obviously powered through them too since his lips were dusted with powdered sugar and he was guarding the box closely. I probably should have paused to kiss it away but my business with Wes was important.

By the time I got back to the lobby, Wes had moved into his office. I went in and shut the door. He indicated for me to sit. "Is something wrong, Faith?"

"Just a little matter of me breaking out of prison." I tossed myself into a chair. "Things are cooling off. L.A.'s getting its shit together and I keep expecting to find myself on America's Most Wanted."

"Understandable." He seemed to think about it for a moment. I could tell he was trying to decide whether or not to tell me something. "Usually they'd tack on more time for a jail break but it's being handled."

"What do you mean handled?" The very idea surprised me and I'm not sure why. Wes was good at dealing with the small details. While on vacation I was able to forget I was technically a fugitive but now I was a danger to everyone I knew. Everyone in the hotel could be jailed at this point for harboring me. I needed to put some distance between me and the people responsible for my salvation.

How would I break it to Connor? Damn me for a fool. I should have thought of that back on Harney Peak and never became the kid's lover. As if Cordy's betrayal hadn't been devastating enough, now I was going to leave him. He might even want to follow me and I couldn't allow that. I felt lower than I had in a long time.

"Yes, that is of concern and while you were gone I worked on this problem," Wes said with that utterly calm look on his face, the one he seemed to have mastered recently. Well, it was better than the prissy look he had in Sunnydale.

"Learned how to turn back time, Wes?" I winced. That was bitchier than need be.

He didn't seem offended and just smiled at me gently. "No, but the Watcher's Council has more power than most people realize."

"The First did." I stabbed a finger at him. "That's why it wiped you out."

Wes shook his head. "No, the London branch was decimated. Do you think that was our only stronghold?"

"Everyone certainly acted that way," I said but that would be stupid wouldn't it?

Wesley smiled briefly. "Mostly as a ruse but there were those who did think it was better than all the rest. But there are strongholds all over the world, more covert. London was a target should it ever be necessary to make such a sacrifice and have it look like we were defeated. London is rebuilding. You don't necessarily need to know where I'm getting help from at the moment but it's an older city, an older branch than London."

Why did I leave him an opening to go on forever? Wes was changed. He could be brutal if he needed to be but obviously not so changed that he couldn't fall into Watcher Lecture Mode. And I had to give him another opening. "So what's this help doing?"

He took the change of subject in stride. "Your sentence will be commuted to time served and early parole. There'll be some sort of community service nonsense and you'll be expected to act like a Slayer again."

"Three years for murder?" I jumped up, shocked. My mind couldn't process what he was telling me. I was free. That couldn't be possible. It wasn't right.

"Why not? How many gang bangers in L.A. alone do you think got just a few years for killing? Or no time at all if they had information to trade? Do you feel that you're not rehabilitated, Faith? You kept telling me you've changed. Is that a lie?" He looked up at me, that hint of harshness creeping back into those blue eyes. I remembered him telling me it was impossible for me to change. I've told myself he did it to piss me off, to give me the fire to fight Angelus. What if he actually did believe that?

I set my jaw. "No, it's not a lie. But I was supposed to pay for what I did." I believed that. I was prepared for it. I wasn't expecting any gifts. How did I pay when I was free?

Wes got up and walked out from behind his desk. "And you will pay, up here." He tapped my forehead. "And in your heart. But we need you, Faith. You're doing no one any good in jail."

I turned away from him, pretending to look at his books. This was too much for me. Yes, he was saying I'm a tool to be used but also he was saying I was needed. And how good that made me feel couldn't be put into words. "How did they manage it?"

"Secret societies have wielded enormous power over the centuries," he said simply.

"Like the Masons?"

That strange little smiled flickered on his lips again. "They're not so secret, not any more but yes. It was your choice to be incarcerated, Faith. Maybe you needed to be then. I think things have changed."

"So why didn't they spring me when Buffy was dead for those few months?" I turned back to face him. Even before seeing his face I knew I wasn't going to like this.

Wes seemed suddenly very uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. "Because like many organizations, the Council is filled with bureaucrats. They were trying to decide if they should release you and take a chance that you wouldn't go back to the path you were on with the Mayor or if they should just kill you and let a new Slayer be called."

He was emotionless as he said it but my knees felt weak. I tried to cover it as I sat back down. Somehow I should have known it. And maybe it was no more than I deserved for the murders I've done. Still, hearing your own murder had been planned was a blow beyond describing.

"I'm sorry, Faith." His voice barely crept above a whisper.

I hadn't even noticed Wesley crossing over to me. His hand rested on my shoulder. Lord, what long spidery fingers he had. Connor had hands like that, hands too large for the dainty wrists they sprouted from. I managed to screw a smile onto my face. "It's okay, Wes, really. It's war, right? Anything to win."

He sighed deeply. "I'm afraid so."

"And they assumed I'd jump at the chance to work for the Council again." Of course they did. Watchers were nothing if not arrogant. "So am I going back to Sunnydale with Giles? Oh man, they're not sending me a new Watcher are they? Don't get me wrong, I liked my Watcher but she was too old to be in the field." I tried not to sound disrespectful. At least my enthusiasm for getting back out there and slaying was sincere.

Wesley nodded. "Yes and that was one of the reasons I was sent originally to Sunnydale. But I was too young."

"Not to mention an asshole." Man, I probably shouldn't have said that. I wasn't free yet and he could change his mind. But he just smirked.

"I was going to say arrogant and self-involved but asshole works." He shrugged. "And no, you won't be going to Sunnydale nor will you be getting a new Watcher. I'm going to be your Watcher. They've reinstated me."

My jaw dropped. "You?"

"That was one of the several caveats of my saying yes to the reinstatement, along with that we stay here in L.A. to help Angel unless something big is happening elsewhere."

I couldn't form words. It was still too amazing. Being free was stunning enough. That Wesley was willing to work with me left me breathless with shock." Why?"

He looked at me curiously. "Why what?"

"Don't play dumb. You aren't good at it." There was too much heat in my voice. I took a deep breath. "Why with our pasts would you ever agree to be my Watcher?"

"Because if I had been a better Watcher back in Sunnydale, you might never have gone down this path, Faith." Wesley looked into my eyes as if he was trying to see straight into my soul. There was pain in his gaze. "We left you in a cheap hotel and concentrated all our efforts on Buffy. We didn't know what to do with you but we should have done something."

I bit my lip. It was a way to keep back the tears, to keep it all from boiling out of me. No one had ever said it before. I had always thought I was treated like shit and this was proof. I felt like someone had moved a mountain off of me. "Thank you for saying that. But are you sure you want to work with me?"

His eyebrows lifted. "Has anything in the last few weeks suggested that I wouldn't?"

I shook my head. "That was different. That was do or die. Now you have a choice."

"And I've made it," he assured me, his face somber. "I'm willing to put the sins of our combined pasts behind us."

I got up and hugged him then kissed his stubbly cheek. "Thank you. Does Angel know?"

"Not yet."

"Can I tell him? Is he up? There's some other stuff I need to talk to him about," I rattled off, my excitement starting to get the better of me.

"He should be up and around somewhere. Try his office. The door's shut."

"Thanks."

I tried not to show I was so happy I could burst. I guess a sane woman wouldn't be so thrilled to be told 'hey you're free to hunt the night until something ugly kills you' but I was made for this. I didn't make it to Angel's door. Connor was perched on that freaky round couch and I could see he wanted to talk to me. Is that what they mean by when Irish eyes are smiling? Fred was still working on the books or something while Gunn cleaned some of the weaponry. Lorne was gone. Connor had changed into a hideous grey long sleeved shirt that hung on him and was too heavy for a day in June. I'm not the clotheshorse Buffy was but even I could tell Connor needed a new wardrobe desperately.

"Faith, I was thinking, maybe later you and I could spar," he said, grinning.

Boy, that grin was just over the maniacal line. And he always smiled like that, like he was two steps from killing you or something. I had to wonder why. He looked like a mad alligator.

"So that's what we're calling it," Gunn said, not looking up from his weapons but I could tell he was grinning.

"What? Oh!" Connor went red again. "No, I don't mean that. I just need someone to practice with that I'm not going to hurt by accident." A hint of humor sneaked into his voice as he added, "Like you, Gunn."

"If you want to spend your day getting your butt kicked, kid, I'm not going to stop you," Gunn shot back.

"Sounds like fun, Connor but not today. Today you and I are going shopping," I said.

"What for?" His nose wrinkled up, typically male reaction to the 'S' word.

"Clothes. Look at this? Did you dig it out of a dumpster?" I tugged on the old shirt.

"Sunny gave it to me," he said, running a hand over his shirt almost protectively.

That was a new name on me. "Sunny?"

"She was the first person Connor met," Gunn said, still working on the blade he was sharpening.

"An addict, she o.d'ed," Fred added, glancing up from the books on her desk. "Those are his flop house clothes. Connor's not much into wardrobe changes. It took a few weeks for us to convince him that people in this day and age change clothes daily and that showering didn't weaken the body." Fred frowned with a little shake of her hands.

I shuddered but Connor didn't seem upset that Fred mentioned it. Every so often it was easy to see how differently he had been raised and how much he needed to learn. "I remember the smell-o-rama from that shared memory crap with Angel. I am so glad I live now which means you don't dress in stuff you find in squats, dumpsters or on the streets, Connor."

He shrugged. "I don't see why it's a big deal."

"When Gunn and I were watching out for him, I tried to get him some new clothes," Fred said, slinging her mop of hair back. "But with Angel and Cordy missing and Lorne in Vegas we barely had time for real cases and had no money. I got him a few things from the Salvation Army but he wasn't really interested in it."

"That's going to change," I said.

"But"" Connor trailed off at my warning look

"Connor, when a woman says something like that in this situation if you don't just agree, you won't be getting any," Gunn said, smirking at the kid. Fred reached over and smacked him.

"I don't have any money to shop," Connor protested.

Neither did I. I could use some clothing myself. Yeah, Buffy had given me some stuff but it was hardly a real wardrobe. "Let me worry about that. Fred, you want to come with?"

She brightened at my willingness to include her. Fred wasn't the type of girl I usually hung out with but I was a bit starved for choice. "Sure."

I headed for Angel's office and knocked. I think he said something like 'go away' but since when did I ever listen? I went inside. Angel was sitting at his desk, obviously settled into the darkness for a good brood. He looked up at me sourly.

"You and I need to talk."

His brow wrinkled. "Faith, I'm not really""

I sat on his desk ignoring him. Knuckling under instantly gets you nowhere and it isn't my style. "First, you're going to stick a crowbar in your wallet and give me a little money because your son is running around in clothing junkies gave him. We're going to go get him something a little more appropriate."

Angel rocked back on his swivel chair, looking a little surprised at my request. "Fine. That's a good idea. So what's appropriate for a kid his age?"

I thought about it then laughed.

He gave me a perplexed look. I could tell he was still pretty lost when it came be being a dad to a teen but at least he was willing to try. "What?"

"I'm just imagining those long pale skinny arms and legs in short sleeves and baggy shorts. It's not pretty," I replied.

His eyes slotted. A very protective expression settled over him, like a wolf with a cub. "I thought you liked him."

"I like what he can do with those limbs but, no offense, Angel, you've got the girliest looking son I've ever seen," I said and his pissed look deepened but he didn't protest. I mean, what could he say? Connor was androgynous to the extreme. "But we can keep that between the two of us. Toss in a little extra cash so I can get myself something. I'll pay you back somehow. Second, I'm going to be staying here. Wes and the Council are trying to make my escape from jail in to a legal release and I go back to work for them with Wesley as my Watcher."

Angel's eyebrows shot up. It was good to see I could surprise him. "Really? He hasn't mentioned it to me."

"He's still working on it. That is, of course, if you want me to stay here." I don't even know why I said that. It was like a nugget of fear that suddenly got unearthed inside me. I never thought to ask if Angel would want me to stay. I knew he would. He was my sole supporter but what if he didn't? Where was this doubt coming from?

Angel smiled. "That's wonderful, Faith. And you know that I do."

"Great. Third, you have to talk to Connor," I said and he got the deer in the headlights look.

"About what?" There was definite dread in his voice. I guess I didn't blame him. He and Connor still had plenty of healing to do and their talks had a way of disintegrating into screaming matches.

"He thinks he's a demon, Angel, because of his parents, because of that spell and it's starting to eat him up. Didn't you say Holtz raised him to hate demons?"

Angel looked pained at the mention of his son's kidnapper or was it the fact that no one wanted to talk about Connor being part demon? "He did but from what I can tell, he tried to convince Connor he wasn't a demon."

"Well, he failed. Connor's starting to hate himself. I've been there. So have you. You know how dangerous that is," I said.

Angel nodded, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "I could tell him about Doyle. He was a good guy. Being half Brachen demon didn't change that."

"That might help. Just keep an eye on him and you know I will, too. Being alone and hating yourself is the worst thing in the world." God that was so true. I had been in that hell and if I could spare Connor that I would. Now to tackle the touchiest subject. "And lastly, when are you going to go back to Sunnydale and talk to her, Angel?" I knew that was a dangerous topic. The look in his eyes confirmed it.

"It's none of your business, Faith."

Yep, touchy. "Like Hell. You're my friend, Angel. I can see you're hurting. Did you think I didn't notice all the postcards you sent to B?" I flipped my hair back. "I don't know what happened after it was all over, after Spike died but I know it was bad. And it ain't gonna get any better with you just sitting here pretending it didn't happen."

"What's done is done," Angel argued, not looking at me.

"Bullshit. Of course, you like wallowing in the pain. I spent enough time inside your head to know that. But doesn't she deserve better?" I wasn't sure why I was fighting for Buffy. Maybe because I owed her something.

"I'll go get you that money, Faith." Angel got up and that was that, I guess. Subject closed.

"Fine. At least call her, Angel, before one of us does it for you," I said, pushing hard. I knew that was dangerous but worth it.

He scowled. "It'll take me a few minutes to get the money."

"Whatever. And you might want to think about taking Connor to see Cordelia. I know it'll be hard on him but it's probably something he needs to do," I said and headed out the door. I sailed through the lobby and paused long enough to say, "We're leaving in a few. Angel's coughing up the money." I went back into Wesley's office and shut the door. He looked up at me in surprise.

"What's wrong, Faith?"

"Angel." I plopped down on his desk. "What do you know about what happened in Sunnydale?"

Wesley made a face like eating lemons. "Enough to know if I tell you, Angel might separate me from my head. And even at that, I don't know all that much."

"It's turning him into a serious brood monster."

Wesley grinned. "He's always like that."

"Yeah but this is different. I could see it when we were gone. This isn't going to be over until we get her up here or send him down there," I said, hoping I wasn't going to be alone in this campaign.

"There is some wisdom in letting sleeping dogs lie," Wesley replied, cautiously.

"I'm more the type to poke them with a big stick," I shot back. "Look, I took that trip through Angel's brain. I know he gets off on punishing himself. It's what he thinks he needs to do but he's punishing all of us at the same time. Is it always like this? How can you work like this? And how can he expect his kid to learn to socialize and live in this world when his father is so cut off from it? My mother was drunk, wallowing in whatever misery she was feeling. I know what that's like and I want something better for Connor." Man, where was all this goody goody stuff coming from? I guess it really was true. I had changed and it felt right.

Wesley gave me this odd look. "I think you've changed more than you know, Faith. I don't think I've ever seen you care this much about anyone but yourself before. And I'm not saying that to be cruel."

I nodded. It was true. I had always been out for number one. But I owed Angel more. And I was getting really fond of the kid and if I could make his life happier, I would. "I know. So, do you have a plan?"

Wesley shook his head. "But that doesn't mean we can't work on one."

"Good. Think on it. You're good at the planning stuff. Me, I have a lover to clothe properly. Wonder what he'd look like in leather pants." I shot Wesley a look and we both howled. "Yeah, that's what I thought," I said when I could breathe again.

"I'll see what I can think of in regards to Buffy. Perhaps I should start with a call to Giles and at least update him about you," Wesley said.

"Great."

I went to collect the money from Angel. Things weren't good yet. But they were getting better. What did they say about that journey of a thousand steps?