Some Rain Must Fall - Chapter 3
Aug. 17th, 2005 02:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psubratChallenge code: 1BG15
Title: Some Rain Must Fall
Author: PSUbrat
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and whomever else he sells them to, I’m just borrowing them for a while.
Description: This story is completely AU and set in 1928 Chicago. No vampires. No Slayers. Just lots of mobsters and Feds.
Author’s Note: This was written in response to the LJ community![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
watchersdiaries's art-a-thon reversed challenge. I’d like to thank ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wings13 for her help with my grammatical problems and eurydice72 for her honest opinions and betaing prowess.
Summary: It’s 1928 Chicago. Prohibition is at its height and mobsters Al Capone and Bugs Moran run the city, including the local law enforcement agencies. The Pratt kidnapping case is the last thing that private detective, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, expects to have come across his desk, but it does. Now he must deal with his past, which includes a young, feisty brunette name Faith Lehane and the murder of his wife, Winifred, in order to find the missing Buffy Pratt before it’s too late.
Previous chapters can be found here.
The cab ride from Caritas was spent in silence, except for Faith giving the driver her address. Wesley recognized the street name as being on the seedy side of town and wondered what had happened to justify her living in such a way. Faith had always shown such promise in school, at least in his class, and he’d expected she would do well for herself when she graduated. Not necessarily money-wise, but in life in general. Sometimes, though, even the most promising of people fell on hard times. After all, he would know.
Ever since Lorne had mentioned Angel O’Connor’s name, Faith had become quiet and withdrawn. He had tried to engage her in conversation several times, but all he was able to get out of her were one-syllable responses while she stared out into the darkness. Had she not been so closed off, he would have pressed her for answers, but out of respect for her privacy, he kept quiet.
Soon the cab pulled to a stop in front of a three-story dilapidated motel. The ‘No Vacancy’ sign hummed over the front entrance in neon blue and red while several scantily clad women loitered about the doorway.
“Wesley, would you mind coming up?” she asked in a whisper. “I…I don’t want to be alone right now. Just for a little while. Please?”
The beseeching look in her eyes caught him off-guard. He could also see that despite the warmth of his suit jacket and her own overcoat, she was still shaking. Looking out the window, he studied the motel and then did a quick sweep of the street. Thugs of all sizes loitered around the area. It didn’t matter if she thought she was capable of taking care of herself; he wasn’t going to leave her here, not like this.
“Driver, take us to the Malden Arms please.”
“What? Where are we going?”
Fear flashed across her face so quickly that Wesley thought he had imagined it, but the tone of her voice told him otherwise. “Back to my place,” he stated, making sure he kept his voice flat and indifferent.
“Your place? Why?”
“My motives are purely selfish, I assure you.”
“You don’t have to do this. I can take care of myself.”
“I never said that you couldn’t. I have work to do and unless you have a telephone…?” he questioned, waiting for her response. Just as he suspected, Faith shook her head. “End of discussion, then.”
The cab slowly pulled away from the motel. It was several minutes before Faith spoke again. “You do know that I’m not exactly the type of girl you take home to mom, right?”
“I know.”
She snorted at his nonchalance. “What will people say when they see me going into your place? Your reputation will be ruined.”
“Let them talk. Besides, my reputation was tarnished long ago and had nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah, I guess leaving the priesthood to get married would do it, huh?”
“Indeed. My marrying Fred didn’t go over too well with some of the parishioners, or with my mother for that matter. However, she came around when Fred became pregnant.” The thought of being a grandmother was enough, in her eyes anyway, to wash away all the sins he had committed against her and the church.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, you know. Last time I checked, falling in love wasn’t a bad thing.”
“But leaving the priesthood because you’re in love with someone other than God is a sin. You know that.”
“Yeah, well, whatever. If that makes you a bad person, then I’m going to Hell for sure. Don’t ask,” she responded before he could even open his mouth. “Let’s just say I haven’t lived on the straight and narrow for a while. Circumstances, and leave it at that.”
“All right then.” He didn’t understand, not really, but he wasn’t going to interrogate her about her life. It was hers to live the way she saw fit.
“So what kind of work do you have to do?” she asked, changing the subject.
He watched her absently finger the seam in the seat between them. “I need to make a few telephone calls to follow up on what Lorne and I talked about.” He paused for a moment, studying her as she continued to avoid his gaze. “Perhaps, you could be of some assistance.”
“Sure. What do you need me to do?” she asked, her mood lightening almost instantly.
He smiled. “I need to gather some information, make a list of contacts - friends and acquaintances of Buffy. Would you be able to help me with that?”
“I can try. It's not like B and I've been tight for the last few years.”
“Yes, I had noticed that. Would you care to elaborate on the subject?”
She shrugged, turning her head at the same time to stare back out the window. “There was a --- misunderstanding. I did something pretty stupid and she won't forgive me for it. Although I can't say I wouldn't do the same if I was in her position.”
“I see.”
“I should have been a better friend,” she said quietly. “Anyway, I can try to help you. Not sure how far it’ll get you though.”
“That’s quite all right. Every little bit helps.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Faith,” he began, dreading the question he was about to ask her. However, it was information that he needed for the investigation. “What can you tell me about Mr. O’Connor?”
Her silence hung over them like a dark cloud and he chided himself for casting a shadow over her mood once more. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head again, slower and more deliberate this time.
The fact that she still wouldn’t make eye contact with him was disturbing. Before he knew what he was doing, he placed a comforting hand over hers. It was similar to what he would have done if he were giving comfort to the dying while administering last rites.
“Faith, I want you to know, you can tell me anything. I promise I won’t judge you. It’s not my job. Not anymore.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly, hoping to entice her into telling him what was wrong.
“Wes, I can’t. Please.”
When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were luminous with unshed tears. Whatever it was that she didn’t wish to tell him had to be big, he thought. Big enough to reduce the feisty woman he had met earlier in the alley into the scared little girl who now sat beside him. He put his arm around her and drew her close to his side, trying to soothe her, but instead his actions caused her to finally break down. She clung to him, crying softly into his chest.
“I should have known you lived uptown,” Faith said as the door to the apartment silently swung open. “You look like an uptown kinda guy.”
Wesley didn’t answer, but instead placed a hand on her lower back and guided her into the small foyer, which then turned into a long hallway. Dropping his keys on the hall table, he quickly hung up his hat and trench coat and then waited for Faith to take off hers. As she removed her coat and handed it to him, he noted that she looked better than she had in the cab or at Caritas. But the tears had left behind streaks in their wake and he had the urge to rub away the smeared dirt. He resisted and instead headed towards the interior of the apartment.
He turned on the light, illuminating the spacious common living area. The place was sparsely furnished, mostly because he spent very little time here, but also because he really didn’t have all that much to call his own. An old brown sofa, which had seen better days, was along the far wall. Next to that was a tall bookshelf that contained mostly historic works. On the second shelf, almost hidden amongst the books, was a single silver picture frame. The image itself was of a beaming Fred and Wesley on their wedding day.
“Swanky,” Faith approved as she flopped down into the overstuffed chair nestled in the corner by the bay windows. “So much better than my place. But that doesn’t take a whole lot these days.”
“Would you like anything?” he inquired while loosening his tie and rolling up his shirtsleeves. “I’m not sure what’s in the kitchen. I’m afraid there may not be much except leftovers, but you’re welcome to help yourself to anything in the refrigerator.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly. After a moment of restlessly swinging her feet, she stood up and began roaming the room, stopping to admire the photograph on the shelf. “Miss Burkle was very pretty.”
He joined her by the bookcase. “Yes, she was.”
“I can see why you fell in love with her.”
“Fred was the most striking woman I ever laid eyes on,” he said wistfully. As he stood staring at the picture, an overwhelming feeling of melancholy began to settle within him. Time for another tumbler of whiskey to drown his sorrows, he thought.
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to love again?”
He stared down at her with a frown as he slid his hands deep into his trouser pockets. Despite the forwardness he was slowly adjusting to, her question took him by surprise. Sighing, he reached out and caressed the frame with his index finger. “Honestly, I've been so consumed with finding Fred's murderers that I just don’t know.”
Faith turned to him, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. It was a gesture much like the one she had used in the alley at Caritas. “I get that. I'd probably do the same thing in your place, you know, get revenge for what happened.”
“It's not about revenge, Faith,” he stated quietly. “It's about justice.”
She nodded and he watched as she chewed her lip nervously before she continued. “Don't you think she’d want you to be happy again, though?”
“Perhaps,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. However, he knew better than that. Fred would most definitely want him to go on without her, to be strong and to find happiness again, but he wasn't ready for that, at least not yet and not in that way. Therefore ‘perhaps’ was the best answer he could give at the moment.
“I think it’s okay if you don’t. She was special to you...”
He looked down to see her staring at him, her eyes burning through him, awakening something inside that had been dormant for quite some time. Impulsively, he reached out and tried to wipe away the smudge of dirt that was still on her cheek. Her skin was soft and smooth, much like Fred's had been when she was alive. It immediately brought back vivid memories, times spent in Fred's arms, loving her. But it was Faith who was before him now, mesmerizing him with her eyes and the way she nuzzled into his hand.
Slowly, he brushed his thumb across her full lips. He felt his cock jump when her tongue darted out, moistening his thumb and then drawing it into her mouth to suck at it. The sensations were overpowering. Dear god, he thought, if he wasn’t careful he was going to come right there. It had been a very long time since he'd felt this type of need rise within him.
He took a step closer as his mind screamed at him to stop touching her. But he couldn't, especially not after she closed the distance between them and slid her hand along the length of his erection.
“Wesley,” she whispered huskily in his ear as she intensified the friction.
Instinctively, he reached out with his free hand to cup her still-covered breast, her whimper of delight encouraging him to continue. Now that she had stopped her sucking of his thumb, he took the opportunity to grab her waist, pulling her closer so that he could kiss her jaw line, working his way down to the hollow of her neck where he suckled lightly on the skin there.
“Please...Want you so much.” she almost begged while her hands fumbled with his belt so that she could reach inside his pants.
He lifted her up, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist, her hand still surrounding his length. Another groan and he was lost to her, his mind speeding in a million different directions. “Fred,” he growled, kissing her hungrily.
The hand on his cock stopped moving and his mind snapped into focus. Fuck. He hadn't just said what he thought he’d said, had he?
Shocked, he put her down quickly and backed away, as if touching her had burned him. “I’m so sorry, Faith. I shouldn’t have...”
She stepped forward, reaching out to touch him, but he stepped beyond her reach. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her torso, huddling into herself. “No need to apologize…”
“No, that was ungentlemanly of me,” he said, taking several more steps back and blushing deeply. The room was becoming too small. “You've had a very trying evening and I was taking advantage. For that I'm extremely apologetic.”
“Wes, seriously, you need to relax. If we were doing something I didn't want to do, believe me, you'd know.”
“Still...I shouldn’t…”
“Just stop.”
An awkward silence enveloped them. He didn't know what to say or do to make the situation better, nor was he sure he could. Clearing his throat and folding his arms across his chest, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Are---are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” he asked, trying desperately to change the subject. “I could get Chinese if you’re hungry…?”
Faith shook her head. “No, thanks. Uhm, actually what I’d really like right now is a long, hot shower. Or maybe even a cold one,” she joked, trying to smile at him.
“Of course.” He ducked his head and tried not to blush again. What an idiot he was being. “Let me get you some towels and show you where the washroom is.” He felt her follow him back into the hallway and through the bedroom to the bathroom. His body was still throbbing and the need to get as far away from her was increasing exponentially. “The towels are in the closet there,” he said quickly, “and there are toiletries underneath the sink. If there’s anything else you need, please let me know.”
“Everything’s jake,” she said, giving him yet another smile.
He felt like such a heel. “I’ll be in the lounge,” he added before closing the door behind him to retreat quickly back down the hallway. The voices in his head were already warring with one another over what had just happened with the beautiful brunette. It was most definitely time for a drink.
Faith let the water run over her hand, testing the temperature before she turned on the shower. Despite her light tone, she hadn’t been kidding about taking a cold one, especially after how steamy things had gotten between her and Wesley in the living room. In fact, the moisture that was currently making her inner thighs sticky was testament to exactly how excited she had been by him, despite the thoughts of Angel hanging over her head and even if Wesley had blurted out his dead wife’s name in the middle of it all. She’d heard and been called worse in her time, so it wasn’t as big a deal as he was making it out to be. It wasn’t like the man was just going to stop loving and missing Ms. Burkle just because he was necking with Faith.
She smiled while looking in the mirror, the specter of Angel no longer hovering around her thoughts. Instead, she thought about how incredible Wes’s touches and kisses had been against her flushed skin. They were better than anything she had ever dreamed, and she had definitely dreamed about kissing him – more times than she could count.
Walking back into the bedroom, she began undressing slowly, taking care to remove Wesley’s suit coat without wrinkling it any worse than she had already. It wasn’t until after they’d gotten to the apartment that she’d realized she still had it on. Then again, things were blurry after hearing Angel’s name, so barely remembering Wesley being the gallant gentleman and wrapping her in his jacket wasn’t surprising. No one had ever done that for her and it made her feel like she was special, like a respectable woman, not dirt on the bottom of a shoe. She could get used to that kind of treatment, especially from someone she’d dreamed about for years.
After hanging his jacket on a hook next to his robe, she unzipped her dress and allowed it to drop unceremoniously to the floor. It pooled damply at her feet and she toed it out of her way so that she could continue to remove her clothes. With an experienced flick of her wrist, she undid the navy blue garter belt, bending over so that she could unroll the silk stockings down her toned legs.
It was after she had removed the last stocking that she sensed him watching her, but instead of turning to acknowledge his presence, she ran her hands through her hair, making sure that he had an eyeful of her breasts as she did so. Grinning to herself, she walked the distance from the bed to the shower, swaying her hips seductively. This was going to be a quick shower because, damn it, she was hungry and horny. The hunger part could wait, but the horny, well that was a different matter all together.
Once Faith was in the shower, he bolted into the room and retrieved the slip of paper with Spike’s personal phone number from the pocket of his suit coat. He was breathing heavily, his cock pulsating in rhythm with his heartbeat as he closed the door behind him. As if touching her hadn’t been enough torture, he would now have visions of her naked body, breasts bouncing enticingly, passing through his mind’s eye for the rest of the night. Bringing her home with him was turning out not to be his best idea, but he stood by the belief that he was doing the right thing so that she could feel safe. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
Sitting down on the couch, he took a deep breath, trying desperately to focus on the job at hand. However, his mind wandered to Faith’s flawless skin and how utterly soft it had been to the touch. She was beautiful and she wanted him, but instead he was out here feeling as if he had betrayed Fred. If this had been a different time, and he a different type of man, he would have walked in there and taken her right in the shower, pounding into her until they were both sated.
“Who are you trying to kid? Get a hold of yourself, old boy,” he demanded, running a hand through his hair and then grabbing the telephone from the table. He dialed Spike’s number. It rang several times without answer. Perhaps Spike was out working, both on his own cases and looking for Buffy. In the meantime, until he could reach him, Wesley decided to keep what information he had learned about Buffy to himself, at least until he’d had time to talk to Cordelia and maybe Buffy’s parents.
As he set the telephone back on the table, it began to ring shrilly.
“Hello,” he stated flatly, hoping that it wasn’t Spike suddenly deciding to check in.
“Wesley-kins, it’s me.”
“Hello, Lorne.” The sounds of the club thumped through the phone lines.
“Hey, I just thought I’d let you know that Cordelia Chase is here again this evening. This time she’s with Angel.”
“Really?” he asked, sitting up straight and grabbing Buffy’s folder from the table. “How interesting.” He certainly hadn’t seen this particular development coming.
“Yeah, I thought so too. They’re looking pretty cutesy as well. Makes me think there’s a bit more going on than meets the eye with those two.”
He scribbled a few notes as he talked. “I’d thought about stopping by Cordelia’s first thing in the morning, but I guess that decision has been made for me. It seems Ms. Chase may be hiding something.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Well, keep me posted if you can.”
“Absolutely. Same goes for you.”
“Wesley…?” Faith asked as she rounded the corner of the hall and came into the living room, stopping abruptly when she saw him with the receiver to his ear. “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize you were on the telephone.”
He heard his cousin ask if he’d just heard Faith, but Wesley wasn’t really listening. Instead, he sat hypnotized. Faith had just come out of the bedroom in nothing but one of his white dress shirts. She looked absolutely amazing.
To be continued in Chapter 4 – Anguish of Spirit
Title: Some Rain Must Fall
Author: PSUbrat
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and whomever else he sells them to, I’m just borrowing them for a while.
Description: This story is completely AU and set in 1928 Chicago. No vampires. No Slayers. Just lots of mobsters and Feds.
Author’s Note: This was written in response to the LJ community
watchersdiaries's art-a-thon reversed challenge. I’d like to thank wings13 for her help with my grammatical problems and eurydice72 for her honest opinions and betaing prowess.Summary: It’s 1928 Chicago. Prohibition is at its height and mobsters Al Capone and Bugs Moran run the city, including the local law enforcement agencies. The Pratt kidnapping case is the last thing that private detective, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, expects to have come across his desk, but it does. Now he must deal with his past, which includes a young, feisty brunette name Faith Lehane and the murder of his wife, Winifred, in order to find the missing Buffy Pratt before it’s too late.
Previous chapters can be found here.
Chapter 3: Lost Inhibitions
The cab ride from Caritas was spent in silence, except for Faith giving the driver her address. Wesley recognized the street name as being on the seedy side of town and wondered what had happened to justify her living in such a way. Faith had always shown such promise in school, at least in his class, and he’d expected she would do well for herself when she graduated. Not necessarily money-wise, but in life in general. Sometimes, though, even the most promising of people fell on hard times. After all, he would know.
Ever since Lorne had mentioned Angel O’Connor’s name, Faith had become quiet and withdrawn. He had tried to engage her in conversation several times, but all he was able to get out of her were one-syllable responses while she stared out into the darkness. Had she not been so closed off, he would have pressed her for answers, but out of respect for her privacy, he kept quiet.
Soon the cab pulled to a stop in front of a three-story dilapidated motel. The ‘No Vacancy’ sign hummed over the front entrance in neon blue and red while several scantily clad women loitered about the doorway.
“Wesley, would you mind coming up?” she asked in a whisper. “I…I don’t want to be alone right now. Just for a little while. Please?”
The beseeching look in her eyes caught him off-guard. He could also see that despite the warmth of his suit jacket and her own overcoat, she was still shaking. Looking out the window, he studied the motel and then did a quick sweep of the street. Thugs of all sizes loitered around the area. It didn’t matter if she thought she was capable of taking care of herself; he wasn’t going to leave her here, not like this.
“Driver, take us to the Malden Arms please.”
“What? Where are we going?”
Fear flashed across her face so quickly that Wesley thought he had imagined it, but the tone of her voice told him otherwise. “Back to my place,” he stated, making sure he kept his voice flat and indifferent.
“Your place? Why?”
“My motives are purely selfish, I assure you.”
“You don’t have to do this. I can take care of myself.”
“I never said that you couldn’t. I have work to do and unless you have a telephone…?” he questioned, waiting for her response. Just as he suspected, Faith shook her head. “End of discussion, then.”
The cab slowly pulled away from the motel. It was several minutes before Faith spoke again. “You do know that I’m not exactly the type of girl you take home to mom, right?”
“I know.”
She snorted at his nonchalance. “What will people say when they see me going into your place? Your reputation will be ruined.”
“Let them talk. Besides, my reputation was tarnished long ago and had nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah, I guess leaving the priesthood to get married would do it, huh?”
“Indeed. My marrying Fred didn’t go over too well with some of the parishioners, or with my mother for that matter. However, she came around when Fred became pregnant.” The thought of being a grandmother was enough, in her eyes anyway, to wash away all the sins he had committed against her and the church.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, you know. Last time I checked, falling in love wasn’t a bad thing.”
“But leaving the priesthood because you’re in love with someone other than God is a sin. You know that.”
“Yeah, well, whatever. If that makes you a bad person, then I’m going to Hell for sure. Don’t ask,” she responded before he could even open his mouth. “Let’s just say I haven’t lived on the straight and narrow for a while. Circumstances, and leave it at that.”
“All right then.” He didn’t understand, not really, but he wasn’t going to interrogate her about her life. It was hers to live the way she saw fit.
“So what kind of work do you have to do?” she asked, changing the subject.
He watched her absently finger the seam in the seat between them. “I need to make a few telephone calls to follow up on what Lorne and I talked about.” He paused for a moment, studying her as she continued to avoid his gaze. “Perhaps, you could be of some assistance.”
“Sure. What do you need me to do?” she asked, her mood lightening almost instantly.
He smiled. “I need to gather some information, make a list of contacts - friends and acquaintances of Buffy. Would you be able to help me with that?”
“I can try. It's not like B and I've been tight for the last few years.”
“Yes, I had noticed that. Would you care to elaborate on the subject?”
She shrugged, turning her head at the same time to stare back out the window. “There was a --- misunderstanding. I did something pretty stupid and she won't forgive me for it. Although I can't say I wouldn't do the same if I was in her position.”
“I see.”
“I should have been a better friend,” she said quietly. “Anyway, I can try to help you. Not sure how far it’ll get you though.”
“That’s quite all right. Every little bit helps.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Faith,” he began, dreading the question he was about to ask her. However, it was information that he needed for the investigation. “What can you tell me about Mr. O’Connor?”
Her silence hung over them like a dark cloud and he chided himself for casting a shadow over her mood once more. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head again, slower and more deliberate this time.
The fact that she still wouldn’t make eye contact with him was disturbing. Before he knew what he was doing, he placed a comforting hand over hers. It was similar to what he would have done if he were giving comfort to the dying while administering last rites.
“Faith, I want you to know, you can tell me anything. I promise I won’t judge you. It’s not my job. Not anymore.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly, hoping to entice her into telling him what was wrong.
“Wes, I can’t. Please.”
When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were luminous with unshed tears. Whatever it was that she didn’t wish to tell him had to be big, he thought. Big enough to reduce the feisty woman he had met earlier in the alley into the scared little girl who now sat beside him. He put his arm around her and drew her close to his side, trying to soothe her, but instead his actions caused her to finally break down. She clung to him, crying softly into his chest.
******
“I should have known you lived uptown,” Faith said as the door to the apartment silently swung open. “You look like an uptown kinda guy.”
Wesley didn’t answer, but instead placed a hand on her lower back and guided her into the small foyer, which then turned into a long hallway. Dropping his keys on the hall table, he quickly hung up his hat and trench coat and then waited for Faith to take off hers. As she removed her coat and handed it to him, he noted that she looked better than she had in the cab or at Caritas. But the tears had left behind streaks in their wake and he had the urge to rub away the smeared dirt. He resisted and instead headed towards the interior of the apartment.
He turned on the light, illuminating the spacious common living area. The place was sparsely furnished, mostly because he spent very little time here, but also because he really didn’t have all that much to call his own. An old brown sofa, which had seen better days, was along the far wall. Next to that was a tall bookshelf that contained mostly historic works. On the second shelf, almost hidden amongst the books, was a single silver picture frame. The image itself was of a beaming Fred and Wesley on their wedding day.
“Swanky,” Faith approved as she flopped down into the overstuffed chair nestled in the corner by the bay windows. “So much better than my place. But that doesn’t take a whole lot these days.”
“Would you like anything?” he inquired while loosening his tie and rolling up his shirtsleeves. “I’m not sure what’s in the kitchen. I’m afraid there may not be much except leftovers, but you’re welcome to help yourself to anything in the refrigerator.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly. After a moment of restlessly swinging her feet, she stood up and began roaming the room, stopping to admire the photograph on the shelf. “Miss Burkle was very pretty.”
He joined her by the bookcase. “Yes, she was.”
“I can see why you fell in love with her.”
“Fred was the most striking woman I ever laid eyes on,” he said wistfully. As he stood staring at the picture, an overwhelming feeling of melancholy began to settle within him. Time for another tumbler of whiskey to drown his sorrows, he thought.
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to love again?”
He stared down at her with a frown as he slid his hands deep into his trouser pockets. Despite the forwardness he was slowly adjusting to, her question took him by surprise. Sighing, he reached out and caressed the frame with his index finger. “Honestly, I've been so consumed with finding Fred's murderers that I just don’t know.”
Faith turned to him, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. It was a gesture much like the one she had used in the alley at Caritas. “I get that. I'd probably do the same thing in your place, you know, get revenge for what happened.”
“It's not about revenge, Faith,” he stated quietly. “It's about justice.”
She nodded and he watched as she chewed her lip nervously before she continued. “Don't you think she’d want you to be happy again, though?”
“Perhaps,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. However, he knew better than that. Fred would most definitely want him to go on without her, to be strong and to find happiness again, but he wasn't ready for that, at least not yet and not in that way. Therefore ‘perhaps’ was the best answer he could give at the moment.
“I think it’s okay if you don’t. She was special to you...”
He looked down to see her staring at him, her eyes burning through him, awakening something inside that had been dormant for quite some time. Impulsively, he reached out and tried to wipe away the smudge of dirt that was still on her cheek. Her skin was soft and smooth, much like Fred's had been when she was alive. It immediately brought back vivid memories, times spent in Fred's arms, loving her. But it was Faith who was before him now, mesmerizing him with her eyes and the way she nuzzled into his hand.
Slowly, he brushed his thumb across her full lips. He felt his cock jump when her tongue darted out, moistening his thumb and then drawing it into her mouth to suck at it. The sensations were overpowering. Dear god, he thought, if he wasn’t careful he was going to come right there. It had been a very long time since he'd felt this type of need rise within him.
He took a step closer as his mind screamed at him to stop touching her. But he couldn't, especially not after she closed the distance between them and slid her hand along the length of his erection.
“Wesley,” she whispered huskily in his ear as she intensified the friction.
Instinctively, he reached out with his free hand to cup her still-covered breast, her whimper of delight encouraging him to continue. Now that she had stopped her sucking of his thumb, he took the opportunity to grab her waist, pulling her closer so that he could kiss her jaw line, working his way down to the hollow of her neck where he suckled lightly on the skin there.
“Please...Want you so much.” she almost begged while her hands fumbled with his belt so that she could reach inside his pants.
He lifted her up, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist, her hand still surrounding his length. Another groan and he was lost to her, his mind speeding in a million different directions. “Fred,” he growled, kissing her hungrily.
The hand on his cock stopped moving and his mind snapped into focus. Fuck. He hadn't just said what he thought he’d said, had he?
Shocked, he put her down quickly and backed away, as if touching her had burned him. “I’m so sorry, Faith. I shouldn’t have...”
She stepped forward, reaching out to touch him, but he stepped beyond her reach. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her torso, huddling into herself. “No need to apologize…”
“No, that was ungentlemanly of me,” he said, taking several more steps back and blushing deeply. The room was becoming too small. “You've had a very trying evening and I was taking advantage. For that I'm extremely apologetic.”
“Wes, seriously, you need to relax. If we were doing something I didn't want to do, believe me, you'd know.”
“Still...I shouldn’t…”
“Just stop.”
An awkward silence enveloped them. He didn't know what to say or do to make the situation better, nor was he sure he could. Clearing his throat and folding his arms across his chest, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Are---are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” he asked, trying desperately to change the subject. “I could get Chinese if you’re hungry…?”
Faith shook her head. “No, thanks. Uhm, actually what I’d really like right now is a long, hot shower. Or maybe even a cold one,” she joked, trying to smile at him.
“Of course.” He ducked his head and tried not to blush again. What an idiot he was being. “Let me get you some towels and show you where the washroom is.” He felt her follow him back into the hallway and through the bedroom to the bathroom. His body was still throbbing and the need to get as far away from her was increasing exponentially. “The towels are in the closet there,” he said quickly, “and there are toiletries underneath the sink. If there’s anything else you need, please let me know.”
“Everything’s jake,” she said, giving him yet another smile.
He felt like such a heel. “I’ll be in the lounge,” he added before closing the door behind him to retreat quickly back down the hallway. The voices in his head were already warring with one another over what had just happened with the beautiful brunette. It was most definitely time for a drink.
******
Faith let the water run over her hand, testing the temperature before she turned on the shower. Despite her light tone, she hadn’t been kidding about taking a cold one, especially after how steamy things had gotten between her and Wesley in the living room. In fact, the moisture that was currently making her inner thighs sticky was testament to exactly how excited she had been by him, despite the thoughts of Angel hanging over her head and even if Wesley had blurted out his dead wife’s name in the middle of it all. She’d heard and been called worse in her time, so it wasn’t as big a deal as he was making it out to be. It wasn’t like the man was just going to stop loving and missing Ms. Burkle just because he was necking with Faith.
She smiled while looking in the mirror, the specter of Angel no longer hovering around her thoughts. Instead, she thought about how incredible Wes’s touches and kisses had been against her flushed skin. They were better than anything she had ever dreamed, and she had definitely dreamed about kissing him – more times than she could count.
Walking back into the bedroom, she began undressing slowly, taking care to remove Wesley’s suit coat without wrinkling it any worse than she had already. It wasn’t until after they’d gotten to the apartment that she’d realized she still had it on. Then again, things were blurry after hearing Angel’s name, so barely remembering Wesley being the gallant gentleman and wrapping her in his jacket wasn’t surprising. No one had ever done that for her and it made her feel like she was special, like a respectable woman, not dirt on the bottom of a shoe. She could get used to that kind of treatment, especially from someone she’d dreamed about for years.
After hanging his jacket on a hook next to his robe, she unzipped her dress and allowed it to drop unceremoniously to the floor. It pooled damply at her feet and she toed it out of her way so that she could continue to remove her clothes. With an experienced flick of her wrist, she undid the navy blue garter belt, bending over so that she could unroll the silk stockings down her toned legs.
It was after she had removed the last stocking that she sensed him watching her, but instead of turning to acknowledge his presence, she ran her hands through her hair, making sure that he had an eyeful of her breasts as she did so. Grinning to herself, she walked the distance from the bed to the shower, swaying her hips seductively. This was going to be a quick shower because, damn it, she was hungry and horny. The hunger part could wait, but the horny, well that was a different matter all together.
******
Once Faith was in the shower, he bolted into the room and retrieved the slip of paper with Spike’s personal phone number from the pocket of his suit coat. He was breathing heavily, his cock pulsating in rhythm with his heartbeat as he closed the door behind him. As if touching her hadn’t been enough torture, he would now have visions of her naked body, breasts bouncing enticingly, passing through his mind’s eye for the rest of the night. Bringing her home with him was turning out not to be his best idea, but he stood by the belief that he was doing the right thing so that she could feel safe. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
Sitting down on the couch, he took a deep breath, trying desperately to focus on the job at hand. However, his mind wandered to Faith’s flawless skin and how utterly soft it had been to the touch. She was beautiful and she wanted him, but instead he was out here feeling as if he had betrayed Fred. If this had been a different time, and he a different type of man, he would have walked in there and taken her right in the shower, pounding into her until they were both sated.
“Who are you trying to kid? Get a hold of yourself, old boy,” he demanded, running a hand through his hair and then grabbing the telephone from the table. He dialed Spike’s number. It rang several times without answer. Perhaps Spike was out working, both on his own cases and looking for Buffy. In the meantime, until he could reach him, Wesley decided to keep what information he had learned about Buffy to himself, at least until he’d had time to talk to Cordelia and maybe Buffy’s parents.
As he set the telephone back on the table, it began to ring shrilly.
“Hello,” he stated flatly, hoping that it wasn’t Spike suddenly deciding to check in.
“Wesley-kins, it’s me.”
“Hello, Lorne.” The sounds of the club thumped through the phone lines.
“Hey, I just thought I’d let you know that Cordelia Chase is here again this evening. This time she’s with Angel.”
“Really?” he asked, sitting up straight and grabbing Buffy’s folder from the table. “How interesting.” He certainly hadn’t seen this particular development coming.
“Yeah, I thought so too. They’re looking pretty cutesy as well. Makes me think there’s a bit more going on than meets the eye with those two.”
He scribbled a few notes as he talked. “I’d thought about stopping by Cordelia’s first thing in the morning, but I guess that decision has been made for me. It seems Ms. Chase may be hiding something.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Well, keep me posted if you can.”
“Absolutely. Same goes for you.”
“Wesley…?” Faith asked as she rounded the corner of the hall and came into the living room, stopping abruptly when she saw him with the receiver to his ear. “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize you were on the telephone.”
He heard his cousin ask if he’d just heard Faith, but Wesley wasn’t really listening. Instead, he sat hypnotized. Faith had just come out of the bedroom in nothing but one of his white dress shirts. She looked absolutely amazing.
To be continued in Chapter 4 – Anguish of Spirit
