Fire and Silk
by Lara

SUMMARY: What happened when the hotel door closed in “The Magic Bullet”? A bit of abstract thought from Wes.

RATING: FRT [V] [GF]

SPOILERS: Season 4 up to “The Magic Bullet”.

DISCLAIMER: I only wish I were as successful as Joss Whedon. He and Mutant Enemy own this; I just write fanfic for fun while waiting for my own big break.

DISTRIBUTION: Permission granted to WNW and Once in a Blue Moon. If anyone else wants to archive it, please let me know.

FEEDBACK: Very much appreciated. Please e-mail lara@darling-moon.com. Flames, however, will be used to fuel the fire in Wesley’s next spell casting session.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Don’t you hate it when they do stuff behind closed doors on shows? I mean, it just begs for us fic writers to fill in the blanks. Thanks to Minion and Lanie for beta reading. You guys are the best!

Hate. Monster. Evil.

The words swirl around my head even as I say them aloud to the gathered throng, their eyes upon me. I can feel them in my head, pressing against me, and I accept them, even as a part of me tries to rebel, tries to tell me that I know what I’m saying isn’t true. I try to push that part away. For it doesn’t adore Jasmine, and all must worship Jasmine. Jasmine is love. Love is Jasmine. She is our everything, our bringer of peace and light.

And Fred wants to destroy that.

But you know Fred...you know she can’t be evil...you love her...you’ve always loved her...

The voices in my mind become stronger, more insistent. I accept it, for Jasmine is love, and Fred is trying to destroy that. It’s what Jasmine tells us, what they all tell me.

But it’s Fred...

*****

She’s infected Angel. Her hate is spreading. She got to him. Will she get to us? If she were to come – all soft and sweet and gentle – could I resist?

I can. Jasmine says if we love each other, we can resist the infection of hate. Angel was a vampire. A demon. Oh, with a soul to be sure, but a soul that could be easily corrupted. So it was really no surprise that he was infected so easily by the hate. His very nature is that.

And Fred...Gunn’s words still ring in my ears. That she turns her back on love. I remember our kiss, that stolen moment in the office – her lips like silk against mine, the love I feel for her like fire in my veins as I held her to me. Wanting nothing more than for it to be only us in the world and no one else.

Recalling how she pulled away...turning her back...

Perhaps Jasmine and Gunn are right.

But remember how she reacted...how she kissed you back. If Gunn hadn’t walked in...

But she’s turned her back on Jasmine. On the gentle caress of her love, the peace she brings to all of us.

*****

Jasmine wants to see us, Lorne said. I can’t sense her desire, the nudge she sends like fingers caressing my neck, the beautiful touch of her mind against ours. But Lorne insisted, and Lorne loves her too.

I walk into the room in front of Gunn, noticing that there’s nothing here. Just old stacked up furniture. No Jasmine. And just as this realization hits, there’s a crack like wood splitting against granite, and a thud. Gunn. I turn around to see him hitting the floor, a baseball bat in Lorne’s hand, just as a whirl of motion comes out of nowhere. I’m thrown against the wall, unable to do anything but groan though I know I should call for help. Icicles wrap around my throat, and I find myself looking into the eyes of infection...a vampire who’s turned his back on the love we’ve been offered. A vampire unable to embrace the perfect happiness she brings.

Then a voice...oh, that voice...comes from behind him. “Help Lorne deal with Gunn. I’ll take care of Wesley.”

The cold fingers retract and are replaced by a warm hand against my chest, pressing me back. Dark, deep eyes you could fall into and never emerge from lock on mine. My breath catches in my throat like a pebble. I should see a burning hatred there, someone who’s not Fred. I should see evil like a black shadow burning inside her.

But all I see is Fred...

“It’s all right, Wesley.” Her voice smoothes over me, as soft as her breath on my face when she moves nearer. “I know you didn’t mean to betray me. She made you.” She presses even closer. “Trust me. I want to help you. The way you’ve helped me in the past.”

But she can’t. Jasmine. She’s love. Fred is hate.

You love Fred. You trust her. More than any of the others here...

Suddenly, unexpectedly, her lips are on mine, silk and gentleness.

How can this be hatred? How can this be wrong?

She turned her back on Jasmine. She turned her back on everything she offers, the connection of life.

Her hand moves down, opening my shirt. And a moment later, a fire burns in my chest. I know the feeling well, have felt it across my neck.

She’s cut me.

“I’m sorry, Wesley,” she whispers against my lips. “It’s the only way.”

The fire in my chest increases as her hand again pushes against it. As does the silken pressure on my mouth. I feel something telling me to fight, to fight against her – she’s trying to infect me. She’s trying to take me away from Jasmine. From the love, the connection, the peace and joy she brings.

But I don’t want to fight. Not her. Not Fred.

Then she pulls away, holding her hand up, covered with blood, red as a beacon.

And I realize. The truth. With the fire burning in my chest, I know. Know what Jasmine is.

More importantly, I know what I’ve done to her. Again.

“I know, Wesley,” she whispers as I slump down against the wall, the sadness of loss and realization overwhelming. “I know.”

© April 2003

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