Late Night News
by Lara

SUMMARY: Wesley brings Fred some late night news about their friend.

RATING: FRC [L] [GF]

SPOILERS: Through Season 5 “You’re Welcome”.

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 the usual haunts. 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: This was actually part of a longer fic that got split into two once I saw “Smile Time”. The second fic should be up sometime early next week.

It was two a.m. when the phone started ringing.

Fred opened her eyes, groaning when she saw the clock. Briefly wondering what demon had attacked this time, she reached out to grab her cell phone from the nightstand, not bothering to look at caller id. “Hello?”

“Fred. It’s me,” Wesley’s voice replied. His tone sounded strange, almost strained.

“Wesley, what’s wrong?”

There was a pause. “Cordelia’s dead.”

Fred felt her heart practically seize in her chest at his words. “But...she was...she was just...she was fine...”

“She never woke up.”

“She did. Wes, we saw her!” This was all too much for two in the morning.

“Will you go for a drive with me?” he asked. “I’m in my car now and can be there in ten minutes.”

She nodded, not even thinking of the fact the he couldn’t see her. “I’ll meet you outside my building.”

Once the call ended, Fred sat there in the dark for a few moments, staring at the phone, her throat tight though she couldn’t cry. How could Cordelia be dead? After all that? After everything she had been through? And what did he mean she hadn’t woken up? She had been right there, and they had talked to her and hugged her and joked with her like old times. They had been a real team again, working together the way they used to, all of them doing their jobs.

He had to be wrong. He had to be. Someone was playing a horrible joke on them, probably that evil Eve in revenge for what had happened to Lindsey and their plans.

Realizing Wes would be there soon, Fred jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a mid-riff sweater. After slipping on her shoes and pulling her hair back with the first clip she found on her dresser, she grabbed her jacket and keys and hurried out of the apartment.

Wes was just pulling up in front of the building when she came out. Almost before he had a chance to stop the car, she opened the passenger door and climbed in.

“When Angel and Cordy didn’t show up tonight, I went back to the office to make sure everything was all right,” he explained as he pulled back out onto the road. “Angel was sitting alone in his penthouse when I found him.”

“But you said—Wesley, she was there. We all saw her.” Fred felt like she wanted to just curl into a ball in the passenger seat.

“Do you know much about the Vietnam War?”

Surprised by the sudden change of topic, Fred shrugged a bit. “I know what’s in the history books. And what little my father told me about his tour of duty.”

“During the War, there were stories reported of soldiers claiming to have been helped through skirmishes or ambushes by strangers, usually other soldiers they had never met before. It often happened when there was no time for questioning the person’s appearance at a moment they were needed most, and once they got back to safety, the person would disappear. The stories went that the soldiers then would find out that their helper was someone who was in a coma or had recently died.”

“A ghost?”

“Not a ghost. More like a...projection. Someone sent to help others through a tough situation or to get them back on the right track.”

“A guardian angel,” Fred stated. “So Cordy was...”

“Given one last chance to help by the Powers before she died. I think she reminded Angel – all of us really – what it is we’re fighting for.”

Silence fell over the jeep occupants for several moments. Wesley turned at an intersection and headed for the on-ramp onto the freeway.

“I guess we have kind of forgotten, haven’t we?” Fred finally said.

“Forgotten? No. Compromised a lot on what we never would have before? Yes.” He let out a sigh. “Who would have ever thought just a few years ago that Cordelia Chase would be the one to remind us that we had strayed off the path.”

Shifting in the seat, Fred laid her head against the seat rest and watched Wesley, remembering briefly the thoughts that had flitted through her mind during the spell casting earlier. She wanted so much to reach over to him...but now was not the time. He needed a friend then. Nothing more.

“How long did you know her?”

“Five years.” A wistful smile crossed his lips as he said this. “She was the only one who really welcomed me when I arrived in Sunnydale. Not that I blame the others. I was there to take over Giles’ job, and I did rather have a stick up my ass.”

Fred found herself giggling silently at that image. “You and she never...”

“Oh God, no. I mean...” He glanced over at her, a rather uncertain expression on his face. “We were...besotted? There was a brief mutual crush, I guess you could say, but we never—Cordelia and I found out very quickly that we were more suited as friends – bickering friends at that – than as possible lovers.”

“You still loved her, though.”

“Like a sister. I will always consider her one of my best friends.”

Fred smiled at this, thinking about her own friendship with Cordelia. It hadn’t started out too well, but after a while, they had bonded since they were the only two females on the Angel Investigations team. “You know there were times where even though I was the older one, I felt like such a baby next to her.”

“You’re anything but a baby, Fred.”

“But I felt like it. She was always so poised and beautiful, no matter what was going on.”

“You’re beautiful too.” Fred sat up at this, meeting Wesley’s eyes when he momentarily turned his head in her direction again. “I’ve thought that from the first time I saw you on Pylea.”

“But I was a mess. Smelly and dirty and...covered in blood.”

Wesley’s voice was soft when he answered, “So was I.”

As he returned his attention to the road, she glanced down at her hands and smiled to herself. She knew—had known for a while that he was interested in her, but she had never realized that he had even really noticed her back on Pylea. Not that she herself had really noticed anything other than Angel anyway back then.

But that had all changed now.

“Wesley...” She raised her head. “I...that is I—we—.”

The trilling of Wesley’s cell phone interrupted her. Reaching into the center well, he picked it up and glanced at the caller id. “It’s Lorne. Would you...?”

She took the phone from him and answered, “Hey, Lorne.”

“Peach pie, I’m sorry if I woke you. I thought I was dialing Wesley.”

“You did. I’m with him in his jeep. Did you hear what happened?”

“Just found out. John C. Reilly was having a late night career crisis, so I came into the office. Gunn was already here. He told me.”

Fred covered the mouthpiece of the phone for a moment. “Lorne and Gunn know.”

“They at the office?”

She nodded, dropping her hand from the phone as Lorne said, “I think Angel wants to have a memorial for her this morning before sunrise.”

“We’ll come to office now.”

“I’ll tell Angel. See you two in a bit.”

“Bye, Lorne.”

Ending the call, she flipped the phone shut and dropped it back into its holder in the center well. “Angel wants to have a memorial this morning.”

Nodding, Wesley got off at the next freeway exit and turned around to head back for Wolfram and Hart. Resting her head against the window, Fred watched the city go by and felt tears finally starting to slide down her cheeks.

Everything else would have to wait. They had a friend to say goodbye to.

© February 2004

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