Warped Reflection
Part Seven: Meeting of the Minds
by Ruth Quist
SUMMARY: What would happen if you looked in the mirror and you weren’t there?
RATING: FRT [V] [L] [A] [AU]
DISCLAIMERS: This fan fiction is copyrighted (2004) by the author. No infringement on the rights of Mutant Enemy, Inc., Greenwolf Corp., Lazy Dave, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, Twentieth Century Fox Television, UPN or The WB, or any other legitimate holders of copyright for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, or any other characters contained therein is intended. This material is produced entirely for the entertainment of fans. No profit is made.
SPOILERS: Spoilers for up to the end of Season 4 (In fact, it is assumed that you’ve seen Season 4. It will be hard to read this if you haven’t.). Minor spoilers for Season 5. Mostly related to characters introduced this season.
DISTRIBUTION: Please ask if you want it.
ASSUMPTIONS: (Spoiler warning!) They still haven’t explained how the Connor related mind wipe works. For the purposes of this fiction, it is assumed that all the events that happened are remembered exactly how they happened. Conner was simply edited from those memories. (i.e. Justine cut Wesley’s throat and he remembers that, but he doesn’t remember the baby being in his arms or her taking Conner.) As you can imagine, this leave’s weird gaps in everyone’s memory. People don’t question this because, as a part of the magical process to create the mind wipe, they were told not to question it. This also means that everyone’s emotional state is pretty much the same as it was before the mind wipe. Aren’t I nice to tell you? Now if Joss would just tell us!
At the end of the day, after some planning and preparation, the team had gathered in Angel’s office to complete the final touches in the plan for the assault.
Wesley moved away from Angel’s office, and into the conference room area attached to Angel’s office, as the conversation between Danvers and Angel heated up. Danvers was one of Wolfram and Hart’s special ‘wet works’ team leaders and he had gotten wind of the upcoming operation (how, they didn’t know). Apparently Danvers resented being left out of the mission and was vehemently arguing his case.
Angel looked ready to explode and Wesley decided to avoid collateral damage by moving into the conference room. Gunn, oblivious of potential fallout, listened amusedly while he sat on a corner of Angel’s desk and leaned on his new axe (similar to the old hubcap axe he used to use, but more professionally made, and a little bigger). Angel and Danvers continued the virulent discussion which fortunately was just out of earshot in the conference area.
Wesley looked over the array of weapons strewn across the table. Fred was checking out her crossbow, but looked up as she asked, “Did you call the other people listed on your cell phone?”
Wesley, who had picked up his crossbow and begun a similar check, paused to answer, “I called a few. I didn’t really have many numbers on the phone. Mostly some contacts for books, supplies, and information. Certainly no one who would meet me somewhere without question. In fact, some of them would prove rather difficult for my brother to manage if he did meet them.” Wesley smirked at the thought.
“Are you sure you should be doing this, I mean with your ribs and all? Fred inquired.
Wesley concentrated heavily on his crossbow, checking the firing mechanism, “I’m fine, Fred. There’s no need for concern.”
Fred, gathering her courage, gripped the crossbow as tightly as the emotion gripping her, “Wesley, I wanted to talk to you about yesterday. When we were together, I didn’t mean…I mean, I didn’t want…”
Wesley interrupted her peremptorily, “There’s no need to explain, Fred. I understand perfectly. I always have.” His face grim, he abruptly walked away leaving the crossbow on the table.
Fred sighed looking after him. She had sounded like an idiot. She watched as he got on the elevator. Putting down her crossbow, she moved quickly over to the now closed doors of the elevator. Watching the dial above the doors, she was surprised when the elevator went all the way to the rooftop entrance.
Pushing aside her nervousness, she pressed the button and waited impatiently for her chance to talk to Wesley again. It was time to hash this out.
*******************************************************************
Wesley was sitting on one of the air exchangers scattered across the roof. His long legs stretched out languidly in front of him, hands on either side of him, and his very posture spoke of defeat. He was staring sightlessly out at the city bathed in the first soft glow of the beginning sunset.
Fred approached hesitantly, still not sure how to begin. Silently to herself she repeated over and over, ‘Don’t babble. Don’t babble.’
Wesley, without moving, said very quietly, “I’ve always liked being up high like this. It’s one of the few good things I got from my father.”
Fred stopped; surprised he knew she was there. She replied, “Y-You left without letting me finish.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “We’ll be leaving soon, Fred. We really don’t have time for this right now.” He brought his hands together and looked down at them.
She stepped up next to him, “When exactly would be the right time, Wesley?” She waved her hand around vaguely, “This is our lives. We’re always fightin’ some evil something or other.”
Wesley looked at her for the first time, speaking angrily, “What is there to say, Fred? Are you sorry about yesterday? It isn’t necessary. You know how I feel and I know…” He looked away, the anger suddenly draining out of him, “how you feel.”
“How do I feel, Wesley?” Fred spoke with soft determination, just a slight tremble in her voice.
Wesley pushed the words out painfully, almost like they were forced out of him, “You don’t love me! You can apparently love almost anyone but me.”
Fred slapped him without thinking and then drew her hand to her mouth in shock. Wesley, his cheek reddening, face tight, slowly stood, with his hands clenched, and spoke tightly, “I suppose I deserved that.”
He turned abruptly and walked over to the edge of the roof, once again looking out at the darkening city, “You have the right to care about whomever you want. I know that, Fred. But you need to leave me alone.” He hunched his shoulders, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I can live without love. I’ve done it all my life. But you’re…killing me. I know you mean well, that you’re just sorry for me, and think of me as some kind of…brother. But I don’t want pity and I don’t need another sister.”
Fred moved over to him, gently touching his arm, “I don’t pity you, Wesley. How could I pity someone who’s done as much for me as you have?”
He jerked away, turning so she couldn’t see his face, giving a short mirthless laugh and speaking bitterly, “Gratitude! Oh, dear God save me from gratitude!” He shook his head as though admitting defeat. He looked back at her, his face blank, but his eyes sad, “It’s hard for me to share my feelings, Fred. I learned early on the high price of exposing my feelings to others. Whatever it is that I saw in your eyes yesterday, made me feel like I was turned inside out. Like every defense I had was breached and I’d been peeled away with nothing left but raw nerves and my innermost thoughts exposed for humiliation.” He looked away and took a deep shuddering breath, “If you feel nothing else for me, at least respect my need for some distance.”
Fred took a step forward and touched his arm again, “Wesley, I…” Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by the ringing of Wesley’s new cell phone.
Wesley pulled it out of his inner jacket pocket, “Pryce here…yes…she’s here..….right, we’ll be right there.” He snapped the phone shut, and without looking at her, he pulled gently from her grasp as he put the phone away, “Everything’s set. It’s time to go.”
He strode to the roof access door that led to the elevator when she called out, “This-this isn’t over Wesley. We still need to talk.”
He paused briefly, his hand on the doorknob, and keeping his back to her so she still couldn’t see his face; he said firmly, “No Fred, we don’t. Maybe you do, but I’ve said everything I want to on this subject.” Then he walked through the door and was gone.
Left alone on the roof with her chaotic thoughts, Fred moved over to the edge of the roof. Did she act like he was her brother? Is that how she thought about him? Fred looked at the sunset, now in full bloom, sending a deep reddish glow between the tall buildings whose lights were starting to turn on.
How did she think about him? When she’d come back from Pylea, she’d spent enormous amounts of time and energy trying to rein in her jumbled thoughts, her craziness, because her brain was in overdrive from the trauma of living as a slave, a nothing, in a demon dimension. Dealing with complex thoughts and emotions (other than the simple, clean, orderly processes of math and science) had been beyond her.
But now, she thought… She didn’t… He’d always been there for her, for all of them, except when he’d been apart from them for the past year. But even then, he’d been there (even though they hadn’t been there for him). When Gunn asked him for help to save her, when Angel was under the entire ocean (she still couldn’t believe Wesley’d been able to find Angel in the whole damn Pacific Ocean for God’s sake!). All that research he’d done on Cordelia and the time he’d come to warn about Wolfram and Hart’s plans to capture her (alright, that’d turned out to be a scam on Lilah’s part, but he’d tried).
She scowled at the thought of Lilah and Wesley. She still didn’t understand how he could do that with that b-witch! She steered her thoughts away from the evil, fashion plate.
All the other things he’d done, like Professor Siedel (her brain skittered away from that memory too) and that incredible shot at Skip. Skip was going to kill her and Wesley saved her life—again. She remembered the bitterness in Wesley’s voice when he talked about gratitude. Was that what she felt then, just like he said—gratitude? Then she started to burn up at the thought of Lilah again. Noooo, it wasn’t gratitude.
Shocked, she realized, she might have treated him like a brother in the past, maybe that’s what she’d needed most when she’d come back after five years in Pylea. But that wasn’t how she felt about him now. Maybe not ever.
She tilted her head down for a second and reflected on Wesley. The sunset was gone, leaving a city bathed in tiny lights. She raised her head and slowly smiled. She’d finally heard it.
Click!*
*******************************************************************
It was impossible to look at the old building without feeling a rush of nostalgia from collected memories, good and bad, created at this former hotel. It had only been a few days since they had stopped using the hotel, but already there was a sense of loss, a feeling of something gone that would never be again.
They crouched together at the front, careful to keep behind the wall, out of sight from the hotel. Incongruously, for nighttime, they all wore sunglasses. They also all had earpiece radios like SWAT teams use. They looked up at its simple facade; somehow made more gracious by the encroaching darkness, barely held back by two street lights. Up at the top they could barely see the name ‘Hyperion.’
Gunn observed, “You sure about this Wes? It looks pretty deserted.”
“Take a look for yourself, Gunn.” Wesley held out the portable monitor showing people (presumably vampires) lounging in the lobby at strategic locations, ready to duck out of sight. He pushed a button and the monitor changed to a different view showing armed people waiting on the balcony overlooking the lobby.
“You know, it’s really depressing how Monster Inc. was watching our every move when we lived here.” Gunn looked up sharply at Wesley, “Hey! They didn’t have them in…um…” he dropped his voice speaking softly, “the rooms we were sleeping in, did they?”
“I don’t know really.” Wesley admitted. “If they did, the cameras aren’t connected now.”
Gunn slapped the shaft of his axe into his hand angrily, “I think I’m gonna have a little talk with security tomorrow.”
Wesley spoke softly, “Actually, I think the files and materials from the former Special Projects branch rolled into my department. If you like, I could help you look into it tomorrow.” Wesley flicked a glance at Fred who looked armed for war. She had a long, straight, green canvas bag slung over one shoulder, a smaller, but bulging canvas bag over her other shoulder, a crossbow hanging from a military field belt (the belt was wrapped around her twice in order to fit), she was looking into a monitor of her own, and held her hand against her earpiece while talking quietly on it.
Wesley continued, “I do know there are a lot of videotapes in the surveillance room. I’m sure we have a demagnetizer somewhere. You could just wipe all the Hyperion tapes on principle. After all, it’s not like there’s anything on them that we don’t already know about.”
Gunn looked back at Wesley, relieved, “Yeah, yeah, I was thinking bonfire myself, but that’d be good.” The former street fighter took off his sunglasses, took a quick glance at Fred to make sure she hadn’t heard any of their conversation, and then looked directly into Wesley’s eyes, “Thanks, man.”
Wesley hesitated for a second and then briefly gave a slight smile in acknowledgment. Gunn grinned sheepishly as he looked a little embarrassed, gave a small shrug, and put his sunglasses back on. Wesley smiled back.
“Hey.” Angel, holding the walkie-talkie the W&H team had recovered from the alley, held it up for everyone to hear. An American voice crackled over the small radio, “This is Two, food delivery is out front. Places everyone! Two to One, firefly, over.”
Everyone paused at the next words, startled, as what sounded remarkably like the crisp British tones of Wesley’s voice, came over the radio, “Roger that, Two. Firefly. All teams, switch now. Remember, no one kills mouse except me, over.”
Wesley looked away from the others, obviously pained at the sound of his brother’s voice.
“What was that all about?” Fred asked anxiously.
Gunn looked around the area searchingly, the only thing in view was a large, black, oversized van, “They know someone’s out here. How did they see us? Do you think they have guards posted out here? I don’t like it.”
Angel nodded, “I don’t either, but it’s still a good plan. The van is warded against vampires, so they’ll be safe. Are we ready, Fred?”
Fred nodded, taking her hand away from her earpiece and dragging the long canvas bag forward while she unzipped it.
“Good. Everybody got their sunglasses?” Angel scanned the group and then nodded, “Good. Let’s go.” Angel began to crouch down while staring intently at the hotel.
Wesley grabbed Angel’s arm, “Angel, I think my brother knows we’re here. At least, I think he knows I’m here.”
Angel looked back at him, “Why do you say that?”
Wesley looked away and said softly, “Because I think I’m ‘mouse.’”
Angel nodded, briefly touched Wesley’s hand on his arm, pointed his sword in the direction of the hotel, crouched down, and moved forward to the entrance. Gunn and Fred followed closely.
Wesley cleared his throat and spoke briefly into his earpiece, “Entering now, go on signal.” Four clicking noises came from the radio. Satisfied, Wesley followed Angel and the others in.
Angel threw both doors open wide and Gunn, with axe, and Wes, with crossbow, stood to each side and just behind, keeping the doors open. Approximately thirty vampires stood around the room carrying axes or swords. They were all grinning.
On the balcony like a reigning monarch, and looking frighteningly like Wesley, stood Winston; he was flanked on both sides by a row of vampires armed with crossbows. “Ahhh, the Blues Brothers. I knew comedy was a part of your life these days, Wesley. I didn’t know you had such a big act.”
Wesley’s lips tightened, “Funny Winston, but you’re the one who seems to be surrounding himself with a circus.” The vampires around the room scowled and moved restlessly.
“Oh, these aren’t the first line troops.” The vampires moved even more restlessly at that, frowning as they looked at each other and up at Winston.” I’ve held them in reserve. I’m sure you’ll get to meet them, later.” Winston leaned against the railing negligently, “You know, you’ve really changed, Wesley. Last time I saw you in England you couldn’t have fought your way out of a paper bag. But now, the new look, the unexpected confidence, the fact that you’re even here—what was it that the man on the phone said, ‘what’s the word?’ I get it now; very, very good. And I must say, I was impressed by that little magic demonstration in your apartment and all those….interesting toys you had secreted about your person.”
Wesley looked up at his brother, sadness visible in his face, “I’m sorry, Winston. You know I have to kill you.”
Winston stood straight again, “What, no heartrending speeches about souled
vampires? Or doesn’t
that apply to family?”
Shocked, Fred and Gunn both looked at Winston and Wesley. What did Winston mean by “souled vampires” and why didn’t Wesley or Angel look surprised.
Wesley’s gaze didn’t waver, “You’re killing people, Winston, lots of people, if this room is any example.” He waved his arm at the room full of vampires. The vampires smiled at each other and focused in on Wesley.
Oh, I didn’t kill all these people; I’ve also done some recruiting. After all, even with father’s superb training, and my,” Winston smiled, “epiphany, I don’t have quite this capacity for blood-letting.”
“Hey, we gonna talk these guys to death or fight?” Gunn shifted his axe to a better position.
Wesley and Angel looked at each other and Wesley nodded. Angel quietly said, “Go.” The men all stood aside creating a gap in the middle and, in the process, shoving the doors open even wider.
Fred stood in the gap holding what looked like a bazooka pointing at the floor. She was wearing her sunglasses.
Winston gripped the balcony rail and murmured, “Ohhh, that doesn’t look good.” He stepped back and put his arm over his eyes. The minions around him looked uneasy at his actions. Some stepped back too, some leaned forward trying to figure out what she was doing. One raised his crossbow to aim. Wesley snapped off a shot quickly skewering the vampire in the chest, and the now ownerless crossbow clattered down from the balcony to the lobby floor, followed by a miniature snow storm of ash.
The vampires in the lobby panicked. Some scrambled to get out of her direct line of fire. Others froze in fear. Some started to move towards Fred. All of them were doomed.
Fred smiled evilly at the vampires in the lobby, raised the bazooka up to take aim, and fired at the far wall. Angel and the men moved back into position as soon as she fired, covering their faces with their arms as the charge hit the wall with a surprisingly soft plopping sound. Then an incredibly bright flash overwhelmed the room’s occupants. A shock wave pulsed out from the epicenter and knocked several of the blood suckers on their backsides. The few still on their feet stumbled around, a couple dropping to their knees. They all appeared, at least momentarily, stunned and blinded. The large lobby filled with the sounds of whimpers and sporadic cries of pain, fear, and confusion.
The vampires on the balcony appeared to be in better shape; some of them groped blindly, but none of them appeared stunned. Winston called out from the balcony over the confusion, “Hope you don’t mind if I don’t hang around for the party.”
“Hope you don’t mind if you do.” Angel said smugly.
Slayers crashed in through all the windows on
the ground floor.
Quote below is from “Heartthrob” (Episode 1 of Season 3 of Angel
the Series)
Written and Directed by David Greenwalt
Original Air Date: 24 Sept. 2001
Setting for scene: Angel just arrived back from the sabbatical he went on after finding out about Buffy’s death. He went to a monastery that turned out to be filled with evil demon monks (not a very restful experience). He goes up to Fred’s room to let her know he’s back (she hasn’t really left it while he’s been gone). Fred was a slave for five years in Pylea (the dimension that Lorne came from originally). She had just been rescued by the gang and returned to our dimension when Angel went away on his sabbatical. However, she was fairly crazy at this point in the storyline. He discovers she’s covered her room’s walls with writing just like the cave she lived in while in Pylea.
Angel: How are you?
Fred: Yeah. Good. Everything’s
pretty much like when you, you know, went away on your trip.
Angel: Sorry I left so suddenly. I just…
Fred: Hey, no, you had things you had to take care
of. And it’s not like I need a babysitter or… You’re
sticking around ‘now’, right?
Angel: Yeah, I am.
Fred: Oh (lets out a short laugh) good!
Angel: (reading writing on wall) Listen, listen,
listen… What are you listening for?
Fred: The click. When it all comes together
and makes sense. There’s like a click in the brain and then you
understand things again.
Angel: Oh. What happens if you run out of wall
before you get the click?
Fred: I don’t know.
© August 2004
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