The Hyperion Hotel | Los Angeles, CA | Monday Evening Fandom Time
If this weren't Wesley Wyndam-Pryce -- a man who, frankly, would go on to make some truly horrifying mistakes that would greatly upset the fabric of his universe, some of them within the next few months -- it might be easy to say that going to the crime scene and taking a sample of Billy's blood from the patrol car door was one of the worst mistakes he'd ever make. But this was Wesley, and his bad decisions were soon to be legendary, so that wouldn't be entirely fair.
When he got back to the hotel, it was empty except for Fred, who eagerly came downstairs to help him look at the blood sample. She was a scientist, he was a -- well, he was trained for a lot of things; surely they'd be able to figure out what it was about Billy's touch that made him so powerful.
Fred
"Looks to me as if some of the red blood cells are kind of supercharged," Fred commented, squinting into the microscope.
Wesley
Wesley was standing behind Fred, barely an inch of space between them as he looked over her shoulder. "Those would probably be from Billy's demon lineage," he said.
Fred
"So," Fred reasoned, glancing up at Wesley for confirmation, "however Billy is putting the mojo on people, the power seems to be in his blood. Which means it can also be in his sweat or his saliva or even his touch."
Wesley
Yes, yes, that was all fine. Wesley was suddenly distracted by another thought, and impatient that Fred was still nattering about this.
"Speaking of saliva, where is Cordelia?"
Fred
Fred made a face. "What do you mean, 'speaking of saliva?'" she asked. "How does saliva make you think of..."
Wesley
Wesley's voice was cold when he replied, "It's a simple question. Where. Is. Cordelia?"
Fred
Fred didn't want to turn to face him, but nervousness was written all over her face when she replied hesitantly, "I... I think she went out."
Wesley
"'Out,'" Wesley repeated, sounding almost skeptical. "Did she happen to mention where?"
Fred
"She just-- um-- she said an 'errand,'" Fred said uncertainly, tucking her hair behind her ear.
Wesley
Wesley pounced on that, moving from his position behind Fred to the front of the desk, where he proceeded to circle her. "So when you say you 'think' she went out, what you mean is you know she went out because you spoke to her."
Fred
"Well, I-- I suppose I--"
Wesley
"'Suppose?'" Wesley repeated, giving Fred a hard, critical look.
Fred
"I-- I did. Yes." Fred sat up straight, her posture taking on the struggling certainty she was trying to force into her voice. "I did."
Wesley
"That's better," Wesley said, coming back around to stand behind her, the better to see the microscope. "Lie to me again and we're going to have a problem."
Fred
Fred was getting nervous, and she had a suspicion of what might be going on here, but didn't want to act on it without validation. "I-- here, you can--" she began, wriggling out of her chair under the pretense of giving Wesley a better angle to look into the microscope.
Wesley
Wesley wasn't about to be fooled, though. "Where are you going?" he asked sharply.
Fred
Fred froze. "I-- I was just gonna call Cordelia, find out where she is for you."
Wesley
"That's not necessary," Wesley said. "Sit down, Fred."
Fred
"It's not?" Fred pressed hopefully. "I-- it'll just--"
Wesley
"Sit down!"
Wesley didn't speak again until Fred took a seat again, this time in the chair in front of his desk.
"There's something we need to discuss."
Fred
"I--" Fred licked her lips, finding her throat oddly dry. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you Cordelia left, really, I am."
Wesley
Wes waved a hand, dismissing that thought. "We're past that now. I've put it behind me."
He stood up, circling her again until he came to a stop directly behind Fred. "However," he said, "we are going to have to make some changes around here."
Fred
"Ch-change can be good, I guess," Fred offered, nearly trembling with the effort to not turn around.
Wesley
"For instance," Wesley said, setting a hand on Fred's nearly-bare shoulder, covered only by the thin strap of her dress, "there'll be no more of these provocative little outfits you wear."
Fred
"Provocative?"
Wesley
Wes took a seat on the edge of his desk in front of Fred, a condescending look on his face. "Perhaps Mummy and Daddy never explained to you that men -- grown men -- are wired a certain way. You can't be coming in here day after day waving it in my face like this."
Fred
"Waving-- what?" Fred was trembling now, and if she wasn't focusing so hard on keeping it together, her gaze would be darting around the room in search of a good hiding place. If she could just make it out of here and into the elevator shaft, then maybe...
Wesley
"You're practically daring me to take it," Wesley hissed. "Is that what you want?"
Fred
Fred leapt out of her chair, not sure what her next step was but unable to just sit while he was whispering like that to her. "Stop it!"
Wesley
"Oh," Wesley mocked, "are we standing now? Is that what we're doing?"
Fred
"This conversation is making me very uncomfortable," Fred said, taking a few slow, small steps backward.
Wesley
"Oh, you're uncomfortable!" Wesley repeated. "That's rich! How do you think I feel? What do you think it's like for me with you smelling the way you do?"
He took a few steps forward, exceeding in number and size the ones Fred had just taken backward. "You think you can taunt a man and get away with it? You brush up close, bat your eyes - and then when our backs are turned, you laugh at us."
Fred
"No," Fred insisted, "I would never--"
Wesley
"Humiliate us," Wesley plowed on. "You think you can do anything you please because you're connected to life, because you bleed, is that it?"
Fred
"No!" Fred exclaimed -- insisted, really, as if pleading.
Wesley
But Wesley, affected as he was by Billy's blood poisoning his cells, wasn't having it, and he slapped her across the face. "I'll show you blood," he said, hauling Fred to her feet after she fell to the floor.
"What do you call a woman who has two black eyes?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous as he advanced on her. "Nothing you haven't already told her twice."
When Fred's response to that was to scramble away from him, out of the office and up the stairs to the rest of the hotel, Wesley just tsked.
"No sense of humor."
Before he went to follow her, he stopped -- just long enough to loosen and then remove his tie, stretch his shoulders, and pick up a battle axe from the weapons cabinet.
Then he proceeded after her, taking his time on the stairs. Might as well give the weak, useless woman a head start.
When he reached the top floor, which corresponded roughly to the amount of footsteps he'd heard her make, he called into the hallway, "Would you like to hear my theory, Fred? It's about how stupid you are."
He took a step into the first room -- Angel's. No, she wouldn't have hidden here; he kept going without so much as checking behind a door. "I believe that after five years of living in a cave, you'll instinctively retreat to small dark places, rather than run outside where you'd be safe."
The next room he checked had a tarp on the floor, and the floorboards creaked as he stepped inside. He'd thought he'd heard creaking come from wherever Fred had run to. "Let's finish this," he said, advancing toward the wardrobe.
He thrust the door open -- revealing a mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door that showed Fred standing right behind him.
Fred
"I'm sorry, Wesley," she said softly.
Wesley
"You're sorry?" he repeated -- amused, as if entertaining a private joke regarding how sorry she'd be in just a moment.
Fred
Fred nodded, trembling. "You were right," she said. "About me liking dark places to hide in."
As Wesley advanced upon her, axe drawn, she added, "But I also like to build things."
With that, she pulled as hard as she could on a rope dangling from the ceiling behind her; a fire extinguisher swung down from the ceiling, angled just so that it would collide, hard, with the side of Wesley's head.
He fell to the ground unconscious, and Fred let out a long, unsteady breath.
[[nfb/nfi, adapted from angel 3x06 "billy" once again. THIS IS SO GROSS AND I FEEL GROSS. warning for just aaall the sexist language/violence/whathaveyou ever under the cut, though it's cut a lot from the episode because icky. and i'm gonna go barf now.]]
When he got back to the hotel, it was empty except for Fred, who eagerly came downstairs to help him look at the blood sample. She was a scientist, he was a -- well, he was trained for a lot of things; surely they'd be able to figure out what it was about Billy's touch that made him so powerful.
Fred
"Looks to me as if some of the red blood cells are kind of supercharged," Fred commented, squinting into the microscope.
Wesley
Wesley was standing behind Fred, barely an inch of space between them as he looked over her shoulder. "Those would probably be from Billy's demon lineage," he said.
Fred
"So," Fred reasoned, glancing up at Wesley for confirmation, "however Billy is putting the mojo on people, the power seems to be in his blood. Which means it can also be in his sweat or his saliva or even his touch."
Wesley
Yes, yes, that was all fine. Wesley was suddenly distracted by another thought, and impatient that Fred was still nattering about this.
"Speaking of saliva, where is Cordelia?"
Fred
Fred made a face. "What do you mean, 'speaking of saliva?'" she asked. "How does saliva make you think of..."
Wesley
Wesley's voice was cold when he replied, "It's a simple question. Where. Is. Cordelia?"
Fred
Fred didn't want to turn to face him, but nervousness was written all over her face when she replied hesitantly, "I... I think she went out."
Wesley
"'Out,'" Wesley repeated, sounding almost skeptical. "Did she happen to mention where?"
Fred
"She just-- um-- she said an 'errand,'" Fred said uncertainly, tucking her hair behind her ear.
Wesley
Wesley pounced on that, moving from his position behind Fred to the front of the desk, where he proceeded to circle her. "So when you say you 'think' she went out, what you mean is you know she went out because you spoke to her."
Fred
"Well, I-- I suppose I--"
Wesley
"'Suppose?'" Wesley repeated, giving Fred a hard, critical look.
Fred
"I-- I did. Yes." Fred sat up straight, her posture taking on the struggling certainty she was trying to force into her voice. "I did."
Wesley
"That's better," Wesley said, coming back around to stand behind her, the better to see the microscope. "Lie to me again and we're going to have a problem."
Fred
Fred was getting nervous, and she had a suspicion of what might be going on here, but didn't want to act on it without validation. "I-- here, you can--" she began, wriggling out of her chair under the pretense of giving Wesley a better angle to look into the microscope.
Wesley
Wesley wasn't about to be fooled, though. "Where are you going?" he asked sharply.
Fred
Fred froze. "I-- I was just gonna call Cordelia, find out where she is for you."
Wesley
"That's not necessary," Wesley said. "Sit down, Fred."
Fred
"It's not?" Fred pressed hopefully. "I-- it'll just--"
Wesley
"Sit down!"
Wesley didn't speak again until Fred took a seat again, this time in the chair in front of his desk.
"There's something we need to discuss."
Fred
"I--" Fred licked her lips, finding her throat oddly dry. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you Cordelia left, really, I am."
Wesley
Wes waved a hand, dismissing that thought. "We're past that now. I've put it behind me."
He stood up, circling her again until he came to a stop directly behind Fred. "However," he said, "we are going to have to make some changes around here."
Fred
"Ch-change can be good, I guess," Fred offered, nearly trembling with the effort to not turn around.
Wesley
"For instance," Wesley said, setting a hand on Fred's nearly-bare shoulder, covered only by the thin strap of her dress, "there'll be no more of these provocative little outfits you wear."
Fred
"Provocative?"
Wesley
Wes took a seat on the edge of his desk in front of Fred, a condescending look on his face. "Perhaps Mummy and Daddy never explained to you that men -- grown men -- are wired a certain way. You can't be coming in here day after day waving it in my face like this."
Fred
"Waving-- what?" Fred was trembling now, and if she wasn't focusing so hard on keeping it together, her gaze would be darting around the room in search of a good hiding place. If she could just make it out of here and into the elevator shaft, then maybe...
Wesley
"You're practically daring me to take it," Wesley hissed. "Is that what you want?"
Fred
Fred leapt out of her chair, not sure what her next step was but unable to just sit while he was whispering like that to her. "Stop it!"
Wesley
"Oh," Wesley mocked, "are we standing now? Is that what we're doing?"
Fred
"This conversation is making me very uncomfortable," Fred said, taking a few slow, small steps backward.
Wesley
"Oh, you're uncomfortable!" Wesley repeated. "That's rich! How do you think I feel? What do you think it's like for me with you smelling the way you do?"
He took a few steps forward, exceeding in number and size the ones Fred had just taken backward. "You think you can taunt a man and get away with it? You brush up close, bat your eyes - and then when our backs are turned, you laugh at us."
Fred
"No," Fred insisted, "I would never--"
Wesley
"Humiliate us," Wesley plowed on. "You think you can do anything you please because you're connected to life, because you bleed, is that it?"
Fred
"No!" Fred exclaimed -- insisted, really, as if pleading.
Wesley
But Wesley, affected as he was by Billy's blood poisoning his cells, wasn't having it, and he slapped her across the face. "I'll show you blood," he said, hauling Fred to her feet after she fell to the floor.
"What do you call a woman who has two black eyes?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous as he advanced on her. "Nothing you haven't already told her twice."
When Fred's response to that was to scramble away from him, out of the office and up the stairs to the rest of the hotel, Wesley just tsked.
"No sense of humor."
Before he went to follow her, he stopped -- just long enough to loosen and then remove his tie, stretch his shoulders, and pick up a battle axe from the weapons cabinet.
Then he proceeded after her, taking his time on the stairs. Might as well give the weak, useless woman a head start.
When he reached the top floor, which corresponded roughly to the amount of footsteps he'd heard her make, he called into the hallway, "Would you like to hear my theory, Fred? It's about how stupid you are."
He took a step into the first room -- Angel's. No, she wouldn't have hidden here; he kept going without so much as checking behind a door. "I believe that after five years of living in a cave, you'll instinctively retreat to small dark places, rather than run outside where you'd be safe."
The next room he checked had a tarp on the floor, and the floorboards creaked as he stepped inside. He'd thought he'd heard creaking come from wherever Fred had run to. "Let's finish this," he said, advancing toward the wardrobe.
He thrust the door open -- revealing a mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door that showed Fred standing right behind him.
Fred
"I'm sorry, Wesley," she said softly.
Wesley
"You're sorry?" he repeated -- amused, as if entertaining a private joke regarding how sorry she'd be in just a moment.
Fred
Fred nodded, trembling. "You were right," she said. "About me liking dark places to hide in."
As Wesley advanced upon her, axe drawn, she added, "But I also like to build things."
With that, she pulled as hard as she could on a rope dangling from the ceiling behind her; a fire extinguisher swung down from the ceiling, angled just so that it would collide, hard, with the side of Wesley's head.
He fell to the ground unconscious, and Fred let out a long, unsteady breath.
[[nfb/nfi, adapted from angel 3x06 "billy" once again. THIS IS SO GROSS AND I FEEL GROSS. warning for just aaall the sexist language/violence/whathaveyou ever under the cut, though it's cut a lot from the episode because icky. and i'm gonna go barf now.]]