Man of the World

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Through Ats S5, Origin, then back to Ats S3, Loyalty.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but if I did, they'd be a lot happier and I wouldn't have to take out student loans.

Archive: If you already have my stuff. If not, just ask, and I'll be happy to share.

Summary: Fred's death and the return of his memories leave Wesley a desperate man. He makes a dangerous bid to make things right, only to find that he's a stranger in a world that's no longer familiar to him.

"I want to be a man of the world, blood in my veins and a hurt in my heart, hide in the street with the noise and the dirt, and the one still looking for a brand new start. Oh, I've been sleeping far too long, hiding out in a palace of gold. Show me one thing before I'm gone that can't be bought and can't be sold. Show me how to come alive, show me how to make you mine. 'Cause if you'd only be my girl, I could be a man of the world." ~Marc Cohn, "Man of the World"

Chapter 7

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." ~Anaïs Nin

"Angel? Can I speak with you?"

Angel glanced up to see Wesley standing at the doorway of his room. In truth, he was surprised to see him there; the ex-Watcher had been rather scarce the past two weeks. He spent most of his time in his office, and while he'd come out if coaxed or watch Connor if asked, for the most part Wesley had been completely stand-offish. Cordelia seemed to be the only one capable of reaching him, and she'd warned the others to let Wesley have his space and take his time.

Gunn and Fred didn't understand, but they were willing to let Cordy call the shots. Angel knew more, and he still wasn't sure that he completely understood.

They all realized that this Wesley was not the man they'd known.

"Yeah, come in, Wes." Angel watched him closely, noting that his movements appeared easier. He didn't hold himself quite so stiffly, and when he sat down in the chair, he didn't clutch at the arms to guide himself into a sitting position. "What's up?"

"We never got to finish our conversation regarding my position here," Wesley replied, his voice low.

Angel sighed. He had been hoping that Wesley had forgotten all about it. "You're not thinking about leaving are you?"

"Where would I go?" Wesley's expression was rueful. "I'm not qualified to do anything else."

Angel noticed that he didn't say he wanted to stay. "If you don't want to leave, what are you concerned about?"

"I don't want to be the head of the agency any longer."

If Angel hadn't already seen signs of change, enough to know that Wesley was a different person, this would have clinched it; the Wesley of his memory had been pleased and proud to be responsible for running Angel Investigations. He'd taken his position very seriously—perhaps too seriously—but Angel had seen his potential. He hadn't minded Wesley being in charge.

Most of the time, anyway.

"Why?" Angel asked.

Wesley shook his head. "You know why, Angel."

"No, I don't." He sat down on the bed. They were alone in the hotel. Cordelia had taken Connor to the park, and Fred and Gunn had gone out on a date, because things around the hotel were slow. "Spell it out for me."

"I'm not cut out for this position," Wesley responded. "You know that."

"Actually, I don't know that at all." Angel raised his eyebrows. "You've got room for improvement, but everybody does, Wes. What's really going on?"

"I made a serious error in judgment, Angel," Wesley replied. "Surely you see that I shouldn't be in this position. This is your agency. You should be in charge."

Angel shook his head slowly. "I can't make that decision. Cordelia, Gunn, and Fred would have to agree, and I'm not sure that they will. Whatever you might think, you're still the boss."

He rose. "Just think about it, and talk to the others. Let me know what you decide."

"Wait," Angel called to him. Wesley paused in his flight, and Angel crossed the room to touch his shoulder. "Look, I know it's going to take you some time. Cordy told me what happened, and even though I don't know what it must have been like for you, you're still my friend. You're still part of the team."

"No, I'm not," Wesley said hoarsely, speaking words that wouldn't be denied any longer. "I haven't been a part of the team for a long time, Angel. You might not remember it, but it's not something I can forget."

"Wes—"

"You tried to kill me, Angel, though for good cause. You wiped my memories. I watched people I loved die. I wanted to die, and you saved me." Wesley's eyes were haunted. "I'm honestly not sure I can forgive you for that."

Angel gripped his shoulders. "Wesley, we can't do without you. I'm sorry for what I did to you, but I'm not the same person. You gave all of us a second chance."

He could see the longing in Wesley's gaze before the feeling was wiped clean. He'd seen it though, and now that he had, Angel knew that it was only a matter of time. Wesley wanted to be here; he wanted to be with them. "I should go back downstairs. I still have that translation to work on."

Angel sighed. "You do that. Do you want some company? I know I probably won't be much help."

Wesley visibly hesitated before nodding. "If you'd like," he said stiffly.

"I'll be right down," Angel promised. He watched Wesley leave, wishing there was something he could do to speed up the process for his friend.

~~~~~

Wesley wasn't quite sure how to react. He'd finally been able to speak with Angel; the last two weeks hadn't afforded any opportunity for a private conversation. Honestly, he had expected Angel to acquiesce immediately to his request to be released from his position. Wesley believed that everyone had seen how unsuited he was to a leadership role.

Instead, Angel had been understanding—kind, even. Wesley wasn't quite sure what to do with that.

This was the Angel who had invited him to stay for breakfast, who had given him a job and a purpose. Who had worried over him and Cordy after Vocah's attack.

The same Angel who was perusing a book in the chair across from him, simply keeping him company.

Wesley kept most of his attention on the text he was translating. He'd seen a reference to it during his time at Wolfram & Hart and had known it would be valuable; of course, now he had to translate it himself, since he didn't have the templates that had been available to him at the law firm.

After a while, Wesley became completely absorbed in his work, forgetting that Angel was even in the same room with him. The wording was very important, and he wanted to be sure he got it exactly right. He was so deep in thought that the ringing of his cell phone startled him, and Wesley looked up to see Angel watching him, an amused expression on his face.

Wesley quickly fumbled for his phone, not bothering to look at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Wesley?"

He recognized Tuff's voice immediately. They had gone out twice more after seeing the play. Wesley enjoyed her company immensely, and he always looked forward to their time together. "Hello. How are you?"

"Is this a bad time?"

Wesley glanced at Angel, who appeared to be rather intent on his book. "No, but I'm at work."

"You mean you're not alone."

"That's right."

He heard her sigh. "Wesley, it's Saturday. Do you ever take a day off? Or a weekend off?"

"When I can," he replied. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Come play hooky with me today," Tuff ordered. "It's beautiful outside. We'll go down to the Promenade. Maybe get some seafood."

Wesley grimaced, looking down at the translation. He still had hours to go—more like days or weeks, really—and if Cordelia had a vision, he should be available in case they needed research done. "I don't know. Perhaps tomorrow—"

"It could be raining tomorrow," Tuff pointed out. "There's no time like the present. Face it, Wes, you need me to keep you from completely stultifying."

Wesley found himself smiling reluctantly. "When should I meet you?"

"In an hour? On the corner of Broadway?"

"That sounds fine," he replied. "I'll see you then." Wesley hung up the phone and looked up to see Angel watching him. He put the phone away, waiting to see if the vampire would say anything.

"You should get out," Angel said quietly. "Have some fun."

Wesley looked away. "Yes, well, if you need me, I'll have my phone."

"She makes you smile," Angel observed.

Wesley swallowed. "Yes, she does."

"Does she know?"

"She knows I'm a private investigator," Wesley said. "No more than that."

Angel nodded slowly. "Be careful, Wes."

Wesley met Angel's eyes, seeing nothing but warm concern. "I will."

~~~~~

Cordelia huffed impatiently. "Honestly, Angel, I can't believe you didn't get any more information than that."

"This was the first conversation he's initiated with me since he—whatever. I wasn't going to risk scaring him off," Angel protested. "Why don't you ask him what you want to know when he gets back?"

"Are you kidding me?" Cordy demanded. "I can't just come out and ask Wes if he's dating someone on the sly. He'll get pissed off and yell at me."

"Maybe that would be good for him," Angel suggested. "He's been kind of distant."

Cordelia sighed, tired from her afternoon outdoors. Connor was napping, and so it was just her and Angel in the hotel. "I don't want to risk it. He seems kind of...fragile lately."

Angel nodded slowly, sitting down next to her on the bed. He could hear Connor's deep, even breaths; once the baby was out, it took quite a bit to wake him up—which was probably a good thing, given what could and did pass through the hotel at all hours of the day and night. "I know. He wants me to take over the agency again."

Cordelia couldn't say she was surprised by that. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him I'd have to talk to the rest of you, and that I wasn't sure anyone would agree."

"They probably will," Cordy said softly. "At least, I think Fred and Gunn would. They know how uncomfortable Wesley is around them, and I don't know that they trust him completely."

Angel shook his head. "Why wouldn't they trust him, Cordy? He nearly got himself killed to save Connor. From what he said, he did it to save all of us."

"And he can't stand to be in the same room with the two of them for more than an hour at a time, if that," Cordy responded. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

Angel had noticed. He'd been paying as close attention to Wesley as he could lately without being too conspicuous about it. From what the man had told Cordy—and what Cordy had then relayed to him—that had been part of the problem the first time around; no one had noticed much outside their own little bubbles.

Angel knew he could be as oblivious as the next person, but he did try to learn from his mistakes. The question was what he could do about it. "I've noticed. What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Nothing," Cordy replied. "There's nothing you can do. We just need to give him some time, that's all."

"Which is what I was saying," Angel insisted. "Why change things now? Everything is going just fine. If Wes steps down, he might not be able to take charge next time."

Cordelia looked at him, surprise written large on her face. "Do you not want to be in charge? I thought you missed that."

"I do," Angel said frankly. "But right now I think Wes might need it more than I do." He looked a little sheepish. "Besides, I don't have to worry about the paperwork anymore."

She gave him a look. "Angel, you never worried about the paperwork. I did most of that."

"Yeah, but now you can't nag me about it either."

Cordy smacked him upside the head with a pillow.

~~~~~

Tuff was waiting for him, wearing a long, loose skirt and tank top. Her dark hair hung around her shoulders, and Wesley thought she looked a bit like a gypsy. She grinned when she saw him, coming over to greet him with enthusiasm. "I'm glad you came."

She was always saying things like that, Wesley thought. Always telling him that she enjoyed being with him, talking with him, going out with him. "I'm glad you called," he admitted. "I could use an afternoon off."

"When was the last one you had?" Tuff asked, tucking her hand through his arm.

Wesley thought for a moment. His life had become consumed with work, were he to be honest with himself. Work interspersed with a few brief moments of pleasure. It had been after he'd taken Connor that things had changed; suddenly, there had been nothing and no one, and work had been his only respite from the boredom and the loneliness.

Well, work and Lilah Morgan, but that was done. No, it would never be in this world. Wesley wasn't sure if he regretted that fact or not.

These days, work was a refuge from the thoughts that seemed to press in on him, the despair that still threatened more often than he would like.

"I don't remember," Wesley admitted.

Tuff frowned at him. "I know I might be out of line here, Wesley, but what's wrong with the people you work with? Surely they have to know that it's good for you to get out of the office occasionally. They aren't keeping you there, are they?"

"No," he quickly said. "No, technically I'm the boss, so that isn't at issue." He hesitated, not quite sure how to explain it. "Two of my co-workers just started dating, and another had his first child."

Tuff nodded slowly, beginning to understand. "So they're busy with their own lives, and no one notices that you're drowning, huh?"

"Cordelia notices," Wesley said. "To be fair, I think Angel does as well. It's just..."

"Does this have anything to do with why you were in the hospital?"

"Yes." Wesley wasn't sure what else he could tell her. "The last few months have been difficult for all of us."

Tuff smiled at him. "Then your job today is to forget all of that, and just enjoy yourself."

"That isn't difficult when I'm with you," Wesley confessed.

She graced him with a brilliant smile, her dimples flashing. "Sweet talker."

Wesley shrugged, realizing that the flirting was getting a little more serious than he was ready for. "What's the plan for today?"

"Wandering aimlessly," Tuff announced. "That's always the best way to do it. No plans, no itinerary, just being."

"You're very good at that," Wesley commented.

Tuff smiled. "Thank you."

The Promenade was full of people enjoying the warm weather, which was just bordering on hot. "We'll have to come early some Saturday," she suggested. "The farmer's market has some really great stuff."

"Do you come often?"

"Oh, once a month or so," Tuff replied. "I like to eat, and I can't really eat out all the time, so I learned how to cook out of self-defense. Plus, my mom regarded it as an essential skill."

"Are you any good?" Wesley teased.

Tuff shrugged. "I'll cook for you some night, and you can decide for yourself."

Wesley grimaced. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to return the favor. Cooking is not something I've ever learned to do."

"You're a smart guy," Tuff replied. "I'll bet I could teach you."

He hesitated only briefly before saying, "Alright. I may take you up on that."

"Good." She pointed. "Oh, look!"

Wesley willingly went along as Tuff dragged him to a table full of hand-made jewelry. From there, they visited more vendors and stores, Tuff keeping up a running commentary the entire time. In truth, Wesley had never much cared for shopping, unless it was in a book store or magic shop, but with Tuff it was a bit different.

He just liked being with her.

"Okay, did you see that woman?" she asked at one point. The woman in question had been wearing silver—halter top, mini skirt, and boots—not to mention a bright green wig. "If I ever dress like that, you have to promise to tie me up until I come to my senses."

"I promise," he replied solemnly.

After a while, Wesley relaxed enough to get into the spirit of things, making his own comments about passers-by. Upon seeing a man with his dog, he asked, "Do you think they're related?"

Tuff looked over to see the heavy-set man walking his round-bellied Scotty, their beards nearly the same color and length. "I don't know. Brothers, I would think."

They were deep into a discussion on the use of symbolism in the modern novel when Wesley felt someone grab his arm and swing him around. "Hey!" he protested.

He was armed. Wesley never went anywhere without some sort of weapon on his person these days, but his assailant was apparently human, and he couldn't do much in a crowd of people. The man caught his eyes, and Wesley knew instantly what the man was doing. Deliberately, he brought his foot down on the man's instep and pulled away, making sure that Tuff was behind him. In the next moment, the man had disappeared into the crowd.

It had all happened in a matter of seconds, so quickly that it almost seemed as though he'd imagined it. "Wesley? What was that about?"

"I have no idea," Wesley lied, taking a deep breath to compose himself before meeting Tuff's eyes. "Perhaps he thought that I was someone else."

Her eyes narrowed. "Please don't lie to me. If you can't tell me, or you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I don't want to pry into your life."

He sighed. "I'm not sure what that was about, Tuff. I have a guess or two, but it's not something that I can do anything about. I'd rather pretend that it didn't happen."

"Then that's what we'll do," she replied. "Just—please don't lie to me."

Wesley's face softened, and he nodded, appreciating both her request and her understanding that he might not be able to tell her everything. "Very well." He glanced around at the crowded sidewalks. "Would you mind if we got something to eat? I think I'm ready to get out of the sun for a bit."

"No, not at all," Tuff said. "Let's grab dinner; then, if you're not in a hurry to get home, we could go to a movie?"

"That sounds perfect." The relaxed mood had been broken for Wesley, however. He'd recognized the man from one of the first employee sweeps they'd done at Wolfram & Hart when Angel had taken over. The man had been one of their readers, employed for his ability to skim the surface thoughts of another's mind when in physical contact.

It just reminded him that he was never safe.