~*~

Angel nods and you smile at Fred. She’s forgotten to take her glasses off
after working through the manuscript with Wes, and they’ve fallen a little
down her nose. You can look straight into her eyes.

You can feel Wesley’s eyes. They glare at you, burning a hole through the
back of her head. He’s disappointed and, hey, you can understand that, but
it was her choice and she ended up choosing you.

She chose you, and now you feel closer to her than almost everyone you’ve
ever known.

You dream strange dreams. About getting older, of staying with Fred, of
actually being able to reach your thirties, your forties. You wake with a
start, wondering how much of the dreaming belongs to hope, and how much is
due to the extra cup of coffee that you drank before falling asleep.

She’s following you to the truck, and you have to marvel at the progress
she’s made since coming back. She’s no longer skittish at the world that
lurks outside, no longer locks herself into a room where she can’t be found.
Her nerve returned with an amazing strength. So did her appetite.

Wes will just have to get over it, move onto something new. There’s got to
be something big and worrisome that he can obsess over. There’s got to be
some big dilemma that he can spend weeks trying to solve. It’s how Wesley
works through the tough times, isn’t it. He’ll just have to find things to
do that don’t involve Fred.

For now, Fred is your concern. And she’s quite happy with that,

She’s smiling at you.

*