Chapter Twelve

Angel woke up feeling confused.

It was like the entire night before had been some weird kind of dream -- like he'd been drugged, maybe. He could remember everything, but only through a haze that turned it all blurry and nightmarish. He remembered Wes killing Edith, and then there was a vague, sickening memory of pushing Wes up against a wall and... Angel groaned softly and pressed his face into Wes' shoulder, taking comfort in his boy's presence.

Wesley stirred beside him, and Angel felt a soft hand move over his back. "Angel?"

He didn't know what to say. Jesus, what the hell had happened to him? What the hell had he tried to do? Suddenly needing to know for sure, Angel pulled back and touched Wes' face, searching it for injuries. "Did I... did I hurt you?"

Wes blinked his eyes a few times and then focused on Angel, looking a little confused. "No... have you been dreaming?"

"I don't know." Angel ran his hands down over Wes' body, relaxing as his touch found nothing but unbroken skin and bone. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine," Wesley insisted, but patiently allowed to examination to continue. "Angel, how are *you* feeling?"

"Okay." He shook his head. "Um... a little worried. What happened last night?"

"What do you remember?" Wesley asked, frowning with what looked like concern.

Angel reached to smooth the wrinkles off of Wes' forehead. "I remember; I just wasn't sure it was real. But it was, wasn't it?"

"That really depends what you remember," the fledgling answered with a small worried chuckle. He pushed slightly against Angel's fingers, responding to the touch like a cat.

"Edith," Angel admitted finally. "And then I tried to... Jesus." If he'd gone through with fucking Wes next to Edith's body... "Thanks," he said. "For, you know... stopping me."

"I didn't want you to hurt yourself." Wesley's hand started smoothing Angel's back again.

Angel didn't know how long this little interlude was going to last -- how long he'd let it last -- but he needed the comfort so badly that he let Wesley give it. He pressed his body closer to Wes', buried his face in Wes' throat, licking and sucking gently. He didn't want to feed; he just wanted to hide.

"I'm here," Wesley said soothingly. "I'm staying." While the younger vampire kept his voice soft and calm, Angel could feel Wes' body respond to the attention it was being shown.

Had he been wrong? Maybe it wasn't necessary for him to play the strict sire all the time, if the fledgling actually had reason to obey and didn't need threats. Angel wasn't sure he was ready to accept that, although Wes' protective behavior made the theory harder to deny. "You promised you'd stay," he remembered.

Wesley pulled back enough to meet Angel's eyes. "Always," he promised again.

Angel nodded slowly. "Good," he said. Because vampire or not, reminder or not, Angel wanted Wes. Needed him. He kissed Wes once, fiercely, then pulled back and pulled himself together. "Come on," he said, glancing at the clock and the window. "Sun'll be down in a couple of hours. We need to get ready to hit the road."

Wesley looked at him dubiously. "I'm not sure there's any need to run, Angel. I suspect Joe will deal with the body discreetly, but we can always head back there and check."

"I'm not worried about that," Angel said truthfully. "We've got to go pick up that orb." Now that Edith had been... taken care of, for better or worse, it was time to focus on other things.

Wesley's expression hardened. "Right." He turned sharply away from Angel and sat up on the edge of the bed.

The urge to continue things as they'd been for the last little while -- with Wes feeling more like an equal -- was strong, and Angel slid quickly to the edge of the bed, one leg on either side of Wesley. He wrapped both arms around the slighter man and held him. "Trust me. Please, Wes... I need you with me on this."

While Wesley yielded to the embrace and even made a little effort to return it, his voice was pained. "You're asking too much. I can promise obedience, I can withhold my opinions, but no matter how much I want to please you -- and I do -- I can't force myself to feel happy about your plan."

"Okay. Okay, I get that." Angel ran a hand up and down Wes' chest. "And I'm sorry. It's gonna turn out all right in the end, I promise." He'd make sure it did, no matter what the cost.

Wes made a small noise and leant back against Angel.

"Shh," Angel said comfortingly. "You're my boy. You just do what I tell you, and everything's gonna be okay."

Two hours later they were on the road in Wes' car, bags on the back seat, weapons in the trunk. Just in case. Wesley had printed the directions to Eugene, Oregon from the computer, and they were taped to the dashboard. They were pretty damn simple though -- interstate 5 all the way, which currently meant featureless nighttime desert. Wes had suggested Angel drive, which was kind of weird since Wesley was usually a bit protective of his car, but Angel was grateful for it. He needed something to do with his hands, and he'd probably have insisted on taking the wheel anyway.

Maybe Wes had realized that.

Wes had asked if they could stop by his apartment to get some more of his things before they left town. The request had just reinforced for Angel the fact that Wes was still, well, *Wes,* since Angel hadn't failed to notice that Wesley had taken more than just clothes and toiletries when they'd stopped. Books, favorite weapons, and classical music CDs had also slipped into the bags.

Angel's gut was still tight, his fingers on the wheel clenching and unclenching as his brain kept churning the same stuff over and over again. Finally, unable to take the silence -- and wasn't *that* a switch -- he started, "So what d'you think...?" He had to clear his throat and try again. "What do you think that was? Um, last night, I mean."

Wes frowned at him, not angry, just puzzled. "Which particular aspect of last night?"

"You know. The whole..." Angel made a little 'crazy' gesture, one finger spinning in circles near his temple. "I don't know. Breakdown."

"Oh." Wesley's expression was now sympathetic. "You've been through a lot, Angel. A lesser person would have broken down far earlier and for much longer. You shouldn't feel ashamed about a single night of not coping."

Jesus, now he had Wes feeling sorry for him. "I'm not ashamed," he said tightly, although he didn't think that was exactly true. "Just... you don't think it'll happen again?" He could hear the need for reassurance in his own voice and hated it.

No." Wesley's tone was confident. "I don't think it will. You still have considerable bereavement to recover from, but I think the... breakdown was a one off occurrence. Try not to worry about it."

Wes probably knew more about emotional stuff than Angel did despite the more than two hundred years age difference. You'd think all that brooding would have been good for something, but if nothing else, Angel thought he knew his own limitations, and understanding psychological issues was one of those. Weird thing was, Angelus had never had a problem getting under people's skin, in any sense of the phrase. But Angel wasn't Angelus; he was both more and less than the soulless version of himself.

"Stuff like that happens to people a lot, huh?" he asked his knowledgeable fledgling.

"Of course. The trick, I believe, is to bend and not break."

Angel snorted. "Guess I need someone to show me that trick then." He sighed and deliberately loosened his grip on the steering wheel.

The journey continued in silence for a while. They listened to some of Wesley's CDs and watched the dark desert slide past them. Several times, Angel opened his mouth to say something casual, but each time he thought better of it, since it either involved talking about their dead friends or about, well, things that weren't actually casual at all.

Eventually, Wes turned the sound down on the CD player and asked, "Have you ever been to Oregon before?"

Angel glanced over at Wes -- interesting that they both seemed to feel a need to fill the silence -- then returned his eyes to the road. He considered the question. "Once. I think. I did a lot of wandering, after... you know."

"You've never really talked a great deal about your past," Wes pointed out. "I suppose there must be relatively few places that you haven't visited or at least passed through."

"Yeah." Trouble was, he didn't want to remember most of it. Before the soul, all the memories were tainted with death, and after, he'd been so haunted... He tried to turn the question back around on Wes. "You? I mean, have you done a lot of travelling?"

"Not really, no. There were various educational visits to European cities when I was a student or young Watcher. But my first big trip was to Sunnydale." He smiled over at Angel. "Of course, having been to Pylea makes me considerably more well-travelled than most hu--" He stopped and laughed uncertainly. "It's surprisingly easy to forget at times."

That hadn't been a problem for Angelus, but then, this wasn't the first time that Angel had recognized that Wes -- the undead version of Wes -- was different -- different from Angelus, different from Spike. He realized that Wes was waiting for him to say something. "You're too smart for your own good," he commented, with a little grin. "Guess it's good to know some things don't change."

"I'm not certain why you say that," Wesley said, smiling, "being as I just showed a stunning lack of awareness about my own, um, condition. But thank you."

Angel slowed down and drove wide around a coyote eating carrion at the side of the road, its muzzle blood stained and its eyes small metallic surfaces in the car's headlight beams.

Wes said quietly, "I'd love to hear about your journeys. Perhaps those from the days when you were the Scourge of Europe." He used the term almost fondly.

This wasn't the kind of small talk Angel'd had in mind, but still, it might be better than sitting here caught up in his own thoughts. "Mostly we just went wherever Darla's whim led us," he said. "She'd get an idea in her head and off we'd go. Or, you know, sometimes Dru'd get all crazy about something and she wouldn't shut up until we went where she wanted."

"So it was always the women who were the impetus to move on?"

"Or to stay," Angel said. "Not always, but most of the time. Sometimes we didn't have a choice -- it was hard to stay in one place too long without people figuring out what we were, getting suspicious... and Spike was never one for obeying the rules."

Wesley cast him a look. "Is it permissible for me to ask about Spike?"

"Sure." Angel wondered if he'd given Wes some reason to think it wasn't okay.

After seeming to contemplate his question at length, Wesley said simply, "Your relationship with him seems to have been complicated."

Angel snorted. "Not really. He'd mouth off, I'd beat the crap out of him, rinse and repeat. Never could figure out if it was because he was stupid or just stubborn."

"Was...?" Wes hesitated, then spoke on regardless. "Was it sexual? Between you and him?"

"You kidding?" Angel looked at Wes incredulously. "Hell, yeah. Though you'd think I'd have learned that I couldn't fuck respect into him, no matter how many times I tried." He could feel a little smile playing at the edges of his lips at the memory of Spike's body beneath his, the sheer animal savagery of it singing through him.

Wesley was quiet for a while, and when Angel glanced his way, he saw the fledgling was staring out of the side window.

The sulking act was getting old fast, but somehow Angel couldn't help but feel bad for Wes. None of this was the guy's fault, after all -- he'd been unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now he was paying the price for Angel's mistakes. Angel's *many* mistakes... "You okay?" Angel asked finally.

Wesley looked around and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just wondering how we compare -- Spike and I, that is."

"You're taller," Angel said, with a grin.

"Thank you," Wes replied dryly.

"Wasn't a compliment," Angel said. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, considering the question more carefully. "Well, you're smarter, for one. And yes, that *was* a compliment."

"From what I know of Spike, I'm certainly glad to hear that. What I meant was, how do we compare in the role as your... " Wes seemed stuck for a word; finally he opted for a weak, "Apprentice?"

That was harder to answer, for more reasons than one. Deciding to go with honest, Angel said, "Well, either you're a faster learner because you're smart, or you being so smart makes it easier for you to fake it."

"Or perhaps what you require of us is different?" the fledgling suggested gently.

Angel was starting to get a headache from all this thinking. Bad enough that they had to live with it, did they really have to analyze it to death too? "Maybe?" he said. "I don't know. Yeah, I guess. I mean, I just wanted him to behave."

"To obey you," Wes clarified, seemingly to himself. "Is that important to all vampire sires?"

"I'm not his sire," Angel said flatly. "I mean, I did what I had to, to keep him in line, since Dru was... well, kinda out of it most of the time. In her own little world, you know?" He went on without waiting for Wes' response. "And I didn't want him to obey me, so much as not get into trouble. Not get *us* into trouble. If he'd had a little more self-control, been able to realize that his actions had consequences, it would've been different."

"All actions have consequences."

"There, see? You already know." Angel wondered if praise made any difference to Wes really, or if he just acted like it did. "I'm not gonna lie and tell you I'm thrilled with everything you've done, but... I know you're trying. For whatever reason. And that means a lot."

"Don't you ever...?" Wes paused again. "Do you ever question yourself? Your certainty?"

"About what?"

Wesley didn't answer, and after a while, he turned the volume back up on the CD player.

The rest of the journey passed pleasantly -- equal amounts of easygoing chatter and companionable silence. By the time they could both feel the approach of dawn in their bones, Angel was pulling into the car lot of the motel Wesley had chosen for them to spend the day in.

A little later, with the hotel room's heavy drapes closed against the dangers of the rising sun, Angel stripped them both naked, taking Wes into the shower and washing them both clean of the road. Wes' body was cool and supple, slippery against his. Despite their mutual eagerness, Angel refused to let their touches move past the sensual into the sexual until they'd moved to the bed.

Once there, Wesley raised himself on his hands and knees astride Angel and grinned playfully down at him. Wes teased by almost but not quite kissing Angel's lips before pulling away. Angel felt his head rise automatically in an attempt to follow, making Wesley chuckle. This was a side of Wes that Angel hadn't seen too often; just enough to have known it existed and feel sad that he didn't see it more.

Angel grabbed the back of Wes' neck and pulled him down, kissing him and almost laughing when Wes mock-struggled to get away. "Still stronger than you," Angel said with a grin.

"Always will be," Wes agreed, seeming pleased by the knowledge. He continued to try to get away, his struggles somehow appearing to mean he had to squirm all over Angel in the process.

Wrapping an arm around Wes' waist to hold him still, Angel thrust upward, feeling his erection slide against Wesley's hip bone. It wasn't enough. "Want your mouth on me," he said, closer to a request than an order.

Grinning, Wes slid and wriggled down Angel's body, raising himself back to his hands and knees when his head reached Angel's cock. "Ask nicely then."

"Please suck me," Angel said obediently. Then, trying to stifle a chuckle, he added, "Or I'll break your jaw."

Wesley, well, giggled. And it was cute. Wes had such a huge grin when he actually let it out, and it always warmed Angel to see it. But the giggle did more than warm; for some reason the sound went straight to Angel's cock. So when Wesley's wet mouth did indeed descend upon his shaft, Angel groaned.

"Good boy," he said, running his fingers through Wes' hair. He closed his eyes as Wes sucked him harder. "If you're a *really* good boy, I'll fuck you. You want me to do that?"

Wesley made a moaning noise around his cock, so Angel guessed the answer was 'yes', especially when Wes started working harder than ever to please. Wes had learned satisfyingly quickly just what Angel liked. The fledgling only had to be shown once, or at the most twice, and he remembered. Then started improvising.

Teeth scraped down his length, and Angel bucked up into the receptive throat. Wes was good, almost too good, at this.

"Get up here," he growled, dragging Wes back up the length of his body and pulling Wes' thighs apart so that the fledgling's knees were to either side of Angel's waist. He teased Wes with the tip of his cock briefly, then slid a finger back and pushed it into Wes, who gasped.

"Please. Oh Angel, please..."

"Please what?" God, it was just about killing him not to be inside Wes, but he wanted to hear him say it.

Wesley locked gazes with him and said in an intense voice. "Please. I want you in me. Please fuck me. Angel, *please.*"

His cock dripping with Wes' saliva and his own pre-come, Angel slid inside Wes slowly, being more gentle than he had in their time together so far. His hands gripped Wes' hips tightly, betraying how hard it was to retain this kind of control. "Jesus. Wes."

Unable to move, due to Angel's tight grip, Wesley chose instead to clench his internal muscles, taking little gasping breaths as he did so. He pushed, flat-handed, up Angel's belly and lower chest, meeting his gaze. "Please."

Angel lifted his head to capture Wes' mouth, kissing him fiercely, then loosened his hold on Wes and started thrusting, not even trying to contain the groan that welled up in his chest as he did so. Wes was so fucking tight and moving to meet him... "That's it," Angel said encouragingly. "That's my boy."

"Yes, yours," Wes agreed, his voice rough with desire and pleasure. "Your boy. Yours. God..." They were moving so fast, vampire fast, Wesley's ass slamming into Angel's hips again and again, both of them grunting, sounding almost animal with the effort and sensation of it all.

"You want to come?" Angel asked, reaching to fondle Wes' rock-hard erection as he thrust still harder.

Wesley nodded raggedly. "Please. God, please." He clenched his ass muscles again, threatening to drive Angel to distraction. Through gritted teeth and a little half-smile, Wes asked, "Please may I come, sire?"

Feeling his own release not far off, Angel stroked Wes' cock firmly, slowing down his own thrusting, but not lessening the force. "Come, Wes."

"Oh," Wes said very quietly.

And then started to whimper, his body tensed and jerking as his head was thrown back, and he came violently across Angel's chest.

Wes' muscles clenched around Angel's cock in waves, making Angel shudder with the effort to hold back. It felt unbelievably good -- so good that he didn't want it to end. As Wes' own orgasm faded, the fledgling recovered enough to look down at Angel again, blue eyes locked on his. Angel shuddered again and thrust harder. Just a few more seconds.

"I love you," Wesley told him quietly. "I've loved you for so long."

A loud groan ripped itself from Angel's throat as he came, the pressure that had been building releasing itself in a series of spasms that left him limp and sated.

For about five minutes, until Wesley grinned and clenched his ass muscles again, and Angel felt himself start to harden once more.

It was going to be a good, long day.

***

Angel's arm wrapped around Wesley from behind, pulling him in close with his back against the bigger vampire's chest. "Hope you had as much fun as I did," Angel murmured, nuzzling the side of Wesley's throat.

Wes allowed himself to lean back against Angel briefly. "That was one of the most luxuriously decadent days I think I've ever spent."

The sun having set, they were in the process of leaving the motel that they'd spent the day in, just a few hours being now left of their journey to Eugene. Having nothing to do in their room during the sunlit hours bar sleep and have sex, they'd opted mostly for the latter. And it had been good, really quite exceedingly good.

Angel was noticeably different since his breakdown two days ago. While part of Wes was cynically convinced it was largely illusion, his sire now seemed intent on treating him more as a subordinate adult than the child he had clearly been to Angel before Edith's death. Could it be that the older vampire was finally realising that Wesley had control of himself?

That his decisions were calculated and deliberate? That he was not about to run amok?

Wesley wasn't stupid. The forces in him were strong, and he realised that the danger of temporarily losing control of himself was high, especially if Angel took it into his head to starve him again. But Wes had spent his life repressing intensely strong emotions that no one had known he'd had, and therefore was far more practised with self-control than his sire perhaps understood.

Not that Wesley had shown much restraint during the day they'd just spent together, but he hadn't seen the need for it, and Angel seemed pleased whenever his attentions had Wes resorting to wanton begging behaviour for more. More touch, more passion, more pain, more penetration, more... Angel. Wesley had found he was pretty much insatiable for the older vampire in general.

"There can be more days like this," Angel told him, running a hand down Wesley's chest and hooking a thumb into the waistband of Wes' jeans possessively.

"I'd like that." It was an understatement, of course. Wes lazily rubbed his arse back against Angel. It appeared that, after collecting the blasted orb, they were heading straight to Sunnydale. This would necessitate another such stay in a motel. Wesley intended to make the most of it, as after the soul reinsertion, he continued to doubt such closeness would ever happen again.

He'd stopped arguing about the soul, realising it was a pointless endeavour, and in fact they had both stopped talking about it, mentioning the orb and Sunnydale in passing without ever discussing the reason for either. But that certainly didn't mean Wesley was happy with the idea, or even that he was resigned to his fate; it was just that he had no arguments left that he could make.

Or none he felt safe enough to express, anyway.

He knew that once the damned thing was put back inside him, it would be there to stay, as his souled self simply wasn't capable of perfect happiness. There was a great deal to be said for life -- existence -- without a superego to constantly berate you for everything you said and did, and Wes wasn't in any way eager to return to life under the thumb.

Angel's fingers brushed over the front of Wesley's jeans, then his sire moved away, patting Wes' arse as he did so. "Come on, let's get going."

Nodding, Wesley bent to pick up their bags and left the motel room.

It didn't take long to get on their way again. The landscape now was easier on the eye than the endless desert of most of yesterday's drive, although it was nowhere near so smooth a drive, mountains making for a twisting, undulating road. But the deep green of the conifer-covered slopes was very attractive in the twilight, as were the snow-capped peaks.

For a while, the road ran along side a rapid flowing river, which Wes enjoyed, despite being the driver for this stretch of the journey. He found it interesting that he could still enjoy simple pleasures such as attractive scenery. That was not a behaviour that he'd really ever considered for unsouled vampires. Clearly, the appreciation of beauty did not require a soul.

He glanced over to Angel, "We should have done this before, you know. All of us."

Angel didn't turn his head, continuing to look out the window as they drove. "Yeah. You're right."

Wes winced, deciding too late that he shouldn't talk about the others. Not yet, not in fact for a long time. While he missed and mourned for them all, he recognised that Angel's pain ran so much deeper because of the guilt the older vampire felt concerning everything that had happened.

He tried a different tact. "Have you ever hunted in places like this? The animals, that is."

"Yeah, sometimes." Angel's mind was clearly on something else.

Wes shot him another glance. "Have I done something wrong?"

"What?" Angel sounded startled, then reached out to pat Wesley's thigh. "No. Sorry. I'm just... thinking."

"Thinking or brooding?" Wes asked, smiling.

Angel's lips twisted into something not quite a grin. "Little bit of both?" he offered.

"Am I permitted to know what about?"

There was a long pause, during which Wesley started to wonder if Angel was going to answer at all. Finally, Angel said, "How things are going to be. You know, after."

"Oh."

"Knew you weren't gonna like it," Angel muttered.

Wesley was saved from answering further by a distraction on the road ahead. A quick appraisal of what he could see convinced Wes that a car had hit at least one hiker, perhaps two. There was blood, which he could smell through the open window, and crying, shocked looking humans standing on the wayside.

Wesley indicated to move into the other lane in order to drive around the incident.

"What are you...?" Angel started to ask, then his voice hardened. "Pull over."

"Why?" Wesley asked, although he never considered disobeying, immediately indicating and pulling in to the side of the road.

There was no response to his question -- as soon as the car was nearly stopped, Angel got out and headed for the injured pedestrians, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Wesley that was difficult to translate. Was he meant to follow? Or to remain where he was? In the end, he compromised and got out of the car and leant against it, his arms folded, while he watched to see what Angel was up to.

One bloodied person was sitting on the edge of the breakdown lane, holding what looked like a white t-shirt to her leg to staunch the flow of blood. She was crying, her breath hitching in her chest and her face tear-stained.

The other victim of the accident was laid out unconscious on the pavement, limbs crooked, surrounded by people who were trying to help. Wesley watched as Angel looked at her awkwardly, then, seemingly deciding to leave the crowd to deal with her, turned to the sobbing woman.

"Let me see," Angel said gently, moving the cloth away from her leg for a brief instant and then pressing it firmly back onto the wound. "Okay, it's okay. You're gonna be fine."

Wesley wondered how Angel could possibly resist the smell of fresh flowing human blood from so close up. He hoped they weren't going to waste too much time here. While he waited for Angel to come back, Wes calculated the rest of the journey, both to Eugene for the Orb, and then on to Sunnydale. He supposed they could afford to waste a little time, but really, was catering to strangers so very necessary? He'd prefer to keep the spare time in reserve for dealing with any emergencies that might occur. Emergencies involving them and not hapless irrelevant humans on the wayside.

An ambulance came up the road behind them, pulling to a stop in front of the accident scene. Paramedics jumped out and started immediately to investigate and then patch up the injured parties. Angel waited until the woman he'd been assisting was being helped before backing off, a bit awkwardly, then coming back to the car. He got into the passenger seat without a word to Wesley, and closed the door with a slam that seemed a bit more forceful than necessary.

Wes assumed the proximity to blood had been as hard on Angel as he'd thought, and before getting in, he went to the trunk and removed a pint of pig's blood from the cool box. After getting back into the driver's seat, he offered it to his sire. "I know it's not the same, but it will help," he said gently.

"No," Angel said. He sounded as if he were trying to hide anger beneath the flat steely quality of his voice.

Frowning, Wes placed the bag under his chair and started the car again. There was a difficult silence for a few miles, wherein Wes considered his sire and came to the uneasy conclusion that Angel was angry with him for not caring about the injured humans.

It was quite illogical for his sire to expect a creature with no conscience to care about people he did not know, but logic had never been Angel's strong suit. And really, Wes had no excuse, as he'd understood from the start that Angel wanted -- needed -- him to act as human as he possibly could.

Grimacing, Wesley said quietly, "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Yeah." Angel cleared his throat. "Won't be much longer now anyway."

The rest of the journey was silent and tense, and although they actually made good time getting to their destination, the couple of hours seemed to Wesley to crawl by.

He spent most of the time silently dwelling on his situation, and as they drove through the streets of Eugene, looking for the correct shop, Wes was feeling both angry at his sire for the apparently perpetual unreasonableness, and upset that Angel was disappointed in him.

Wesley was quite self-aware; he knew exactly where in his personal psychology the craving for Angel's approval stemmed from. And to be fair, Angel 'gave' a lot more in terms of affection and approbation than Wesley's human father had ever done. That just seemed to make it even harder, however, when the pleasant attention was withdrawn.

Sighing noiselessly to himself, Wes pulled the SUV up outside the Doorway to Akasha, the shop they were looking for. To Wesley's quiet amusement, it looked more like a British curry house than a magic store, with its red and tan paintwork and shrine to Ganesh in the window. It also looked shut.

"Are they expecting us?" he asked, breaking the two-hour silence.

"Um... yeah. At some point. Maybe not tonight though." Angel sounded dismayed, but got out of the car anyway.

Wes got out and locked up. He walked to the shop door and peered through the small borders of clear glass around the many notices and signs blu-tacked to the other side. He couldn't see any movement or light within, but as he saw no reason why not to, he rapped sharply on the door.

"Forget it," Angel said, his tone of voice broadcasting his self-disgust so loudly that Wes felt sure anyone could have heard it. "We'll have to come back tomorrow. Call and see if they can stay open long enough past sunset for us to get it."

Wes quickly weighed up between spending another day in a motel room with Angel, not necessarily such a pleasant prospect with his sire in this mood, and persisting in an attempt to attract the attention of the shop's proprietor. And that in order to obtain an object that Wesley most certainly didn't want. He decided to show willing, although he doubted Angel would notice.

"Let's not give up quite so quickly?" Wes suggested gently, knocking again on the door. Hmm, was that movement he heard within?

"Did you hear something?" Angel asked, stepping closer and putting his hand on the small of Wesley's back.

"Yes," Wesley nodded, still peering through the door window. "Here comes someone."

They waited another thirty seconds or so, and then heard the click of a lock being turned before the door opened, revealing a short, heavy-set Indian man who was probably in his sixties. He was wearing a turban, but the rest of his clothes were Western in style and casual in appearance.

"Closed we are, and for several hours now," he said, but there was a quirky smile on his face.

"Yeah, we're sorry about that," Angel said, reaching into his wallet and offering the man one of his cards. "That's me... Angel. I called a couple of days ago? About the Thesulan Orb?"

The shop owner declined to take the card, although he read it from Angel's hand with apparent interest, nodding and smiling. "Ah, Mr just-Angel, I am remembering. Your Orb is being behind the counter." The man turned, and flicking on light switches, he walked back into the shop leaving the door open.

Wes watched Angel hesitate, then put the card back into his wallet and take out a handful of cash instead. His sire started to step through the doorway, but froze.

"Problem?" Wes asked quietly.

"Guess when he said protections, he wasn't kidding," Angel said, pushing against what was obviously an invisible barrier with one hand.

"Hmm, on public premises?" Wes pondered, testing the barrier himself. "That's impressive."

"I am glad you are thinking so, young sir," the Indian man said, returning to the door with a square box in his hands.

Angel gestured with the money. "What do I owe you?"

"That is being four hundred dollars, sir. The price is increasing since the Romanian grimoire returned into circulation. You will please be putting the money in my mailslot." He began to shut the door.

"Um... what about me getting the orb?" Angel asked quickly.

"All in good time will come to those who patient are being," the proprietor said with a smile, and shut the door. Wesley chuckled.

"What the hell does that mean?" Angel groused, looking around for the mailslot and pushing a wad of cash through it, apparently without having counted it first.

"I like him," Wes commented in a tone he judged couldn't be heard through the door. "Canny old bugger."

There was a short pause and the door opened again. The shopkeeper had put the box, together with a small wad of notes -- the excess, Wes presumed -- on the floor just to the other side of the barrier. "Thanking you for your business," the man said, as he gently pushed the box halfway through with his toe. "The blessings of Ganesh upon your undertaking."

"Um... right. Thanks." Angel pocketed the money, then carefully picked up the box, cradling it in his arms. "You too."

The man bowed and shut the door. Wes turned to Angel. "Well, that was quick. I suppose we should check inside the box before leaving."

Angel was still holding the box as if it contained something very precious. "I've got it," he said, going over to set the box down on the hood of the car, then opening it.

"All present and correct?" Wesley asked, his tone a little dry. It both amused and hurt him that Angel was behaving like a broody chicken with an egg.

"Looks good." Angel closed the box up again before Wesley could look into it. "You want to drive, or should I?"

Wesley studied his sire, his annoyance starting to outweigh his desire to please. "Why give me the illusion of choice, Angel? You decide. You clearly believe it's better that way."

"It's not an illusion," Angel said, tucking the box under his arm. "Just because I don't *always* give you a choice, doesn't mean that when I do it's not legit. But hey, if you don't want to decide..."

Wes folded his arms and stared at Angel, saying nothing.

"Unlock the car." Angel's voice was hard.

Wes did what he was told immediately; his point was made, although at a cost. He was allowing his emotions to control his actions, which was obviously unwise, but he wasn't sure he cared much.

Angel put the box containing the orb into the back, then held his hand out for the keys. Wes handed them over without a word and went round to the passenger's side and got in. They had a long journey to Sunnydale ahead of them, to be interrupted inevitably by another motel stay, and Wesley wasn't prepared to spend it like this.

When his sire got in and shut the door, Wes turned to him. "Being as this possibly is the last twenty-four hours we'll spend together, do you think we could perhaps make at least a small effort to ensure that they are pleasant?"

"I'm not the one being unpleasant," Angel said, starting up the car and pulling away from the curb. "You're the one being all confrontational."

"Which would imply, would it not, that there was something I considered you needed to confront."

"I thought you just said you wanted this to be pleasant." Angel sounded irritated. "You can't have it both ways."

"No, that's a luxury that only you're permitted." Wes winced inside, expecting to be hit, yet he did nothing to try and calm his own anger.

"What the *fuck* do you want from me? You want me to just throw it all away, say that it's fine if you don't want the soul back?" Angel's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

Wesley turned in his seat to glare at his sire. "Throw *what* all away? Just what is it that you're giving up on by letting me stay... free?"

"You," Angel said. "And I'm not doing that, not again. It was a mistake the first time I did it. I'm not losing you again." There was the unspoken implication that the way things stood, Angel considered Wesley lost to him, and that was utterly infuriating.

"Angel, you blo--" Some sense of self-preservation made Wesley bite back the string of insults on the tip of his tongue concerning his sire's level of intelligence, and Wes continued in slightly calmer tones. "Can't you at least try to understand that your only guarantee of keeping me is by leaving me unsouled?"

"I'm not giving up on you that easy." Angel's voice was almost a growl. "Maybe you'll need some time, sure, but sooner or later you'll be back."

Wesley felt his self-control crumble like a cliff under pounding waves. "Good God, Angel! Does reality *ever* penetrate through your thick skull?"

Angel slammed on the brakes and pulled the car violently off to the side of the road. Almost before the car had stopped his hand shot out and grabbed Wes by the throat. "Seems to me like somebody needs another lesson in respect."

Tensing under the grip on his neck, but making no effort to resist, Wes managed to squeeze some bitter words out. "Yes, go on, why don't you? Beat me senseless on the public highway. And when you're done, when I'm lying unconscious, broken and bloody, the facts will still be the facts and nothing will have changed at all."

"And what are the *facts,* Wesley?" Angel spat the words out. "You know so much, why don't you tell me?"

Wesley resolutely met Angel's gaze. "As soon as I'm souled, I will leave you."

And that would be a disaster for both of them. After the events of two nights ago, Wesley was convinced that Angel would be less than sane without Wes to both care for and be cared for by. The older vampire needed him desperately, perhaps in a different way from how Wes loved and needed Angel, but equally as strongly.

The knowledge felt good, obviously, but it also meant Wesley's soul was bad for both of them.

Wes continued his point. "I won't feel like I have any choice in this, Angel. I will not be able to stay with you because I will feel it would be wrong to do so."

Angel's grip on his throat loosened slightly. "Why? Why would it be wrong?"

Wes turned his head from Angel; he couldn't tell his sire, even now. "We wouldn't be good for each other," he muttered.

"Why?"

"There's too much... guilt and anger between us. We'd tear each other apart."

"You don't think you'd be able to forgive me for not letting you die," Angel said flatly.

"In time, I probably could," Wesley admitted. "There are other... crimes between us, however, that can't be forgiven." While Wesley knew which 'crime' he was mainly referring to, he wasn't quite sure whether it was Angel or himself who could never forgive him for what he'd done.

Angel let go of Wesley and looked steadily out through the windshield. "Tell me," he said, and it was clear from his tone of voice that he expected to hear a list of other things for which he didn't expect to be forgiven.

Sighing heavily and rubbing at his neck, Wesley turned to his sire. "Angel, the crimes are not yours. Oh, I dare say I'd be angry at you for a number of things once the deed was done, but that would pass in time."

"You know I let the Connor thing go a while back."

Wesley closed his eyes and swallowed. It was now or never. Telling Angel this could result... well, at worst it could result in Wesley's dusting. But Angel was never going to understand the full ramifications of resouling Wes without this information. "I didn't actually know that," he said slowly, "But, um," he swallowed again. "This is a different, er, 'Connor thing'"

"A different...?" Angel blinked, obviously having no idea what Wes was talking about.

It was really rather difficult to make himself speak; an awful lot of him just wanted to get out of the car and run. It took almost all the willpower Wesley had to remain in the car and say the words, "I killed Connor," to the boy's father.

There was a long silence, then Angel said uncertainly, "No, Gunn did."

It would be so easy just to leave it at, but since when had Wes ever taken the easy way out? "No, I did. I... I remember doing it. With my crossbow. His eye..."

"Don't," Angel said quickly. "Just... I don't want to know." Another moment of silence, then he asked, "You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say something before?"

Wesley met his sire's gaze for the first time since they'd started talking about Connor. His voice, when he spoke, was heavy with emotion, and not even he was sure which emotions it was that he was feeling. "I rather wanted to avoid being dusted."

"But it..." Angel cleared his throat. "It wasn't your fault, right? It was that stuff. That Natural Killer stuff."

"I really didn't think that would stop you."

"Yeah, well... you were wrong."

Wesley had held onto the... well, it wasn't guilt, but the fear of consequence at least, since first waking up as a vampire. He didn't really know what to do with the feelings now. He stared blindly out of the window, saying nothing.

Eventually, he felt Angel's thumb brush over his cheek. "I'm sorry," Angel said. "That this had to happen."

Unable to stop himself responding physically, Wesley moved into the touch. The thumb traced its way down over Wes' lower lip. "I don't want you to go," Angel whispered.

Wesley found himself softly kissing the thumb tip. He moaned very quietly and moved toward Angel, seeking more contact. "I don't want to go."

Angel gathered him close. "Then don't."

Feeling weak and feeling like he didn't really care if he was, Wes welcomed the hug, returning it with restrained... desperation. He nuzzled into Angel's neck. "I'm not going argue about the soul after this. I'm not going to fight the reinsertion. But there's one thing I have to ask -- beg, if I have to, if it would help to do so."

Angel tilted his head back, baring his throat to Wes in what genuinely seemed like an offering. "What is it?"

Closing his eyes in attempt to stop himself getting distracted by Angel's body, Wesley answered, "When it's done, when it's in me once more, don't let me go. Don't remove the chains. Keep me with you and keep me your fledgling -- submissive to your will. Don't, for God's sake, give me freedom to choose."

He could feel Angel tense up. "You want me to keep you against your will? Why the *fuck* do you think I'd agree to that?"

Wesley made a noise that sounded a little too much like a sob for his own comfort. "Because if you don't, I'll leave, and it will destroy both of us."

"It won't." Angel's voice was softer. "I won't let it. It'll all be okay, I promise."

Blind. His sire was so caught up in not listening to the evil voice inside of him, that he was blind and deaf to anything that threatened his worldview. Wesley pulled back a little. "Oh Lord, Angel, you *know* me. If you give me, *souled* me, the power to make my own decisions, I'll make them based on intellectual and moral grounds regardless of my personal desires... or even your desires."

"Then we'll deal with it." Angel's hand rubbed and squeezed at Wes' shoulder, comforting. "Like I said before, if you need time, after... I can give you that."

Wesley surrendered; it was an almost physical sensation. He slumped in Angel's arms, resigned and depressed. There was just no way of getting through to Angel.

He had promised his sire he would never leave him, but he wouldn't be able to keep the promise now. He'd also promised Angel no more breakdowns, and though even when he'd made the claim so confidently he'd realised it could well be a lie, he'd rather have liked it to be true. Wes didn't like Angel to be in pain, especially as result of Wesley's actions.

And souled, he knew he would bring only pain to the both of them.

"That's right," Angel said, gathering him closer still. "It's gonna be fine. Trust me."

It wasn't, and Wesley knew it wasn't, but he had no fight left in him to argue.