Song for a Winter's Night
by Kara

Challenge:
Story written for ~ Wesleysgirl
Required character ~ Wesley
Genre ~ h/c or Angst
One other requirement ~ Angel
Two restrictions (optional) ~ No death of either of the two requested characters. Other character death is okay.
Spoiler level ~ Unrestricted
Rating level ~ NC-17

He couldn't pretend that he understood Wesley's pain. Spike had a better reason for sympathy, or at least a better reason for killing his mum. What did Angel have? Childish vindication and the fact that he never really wanted to please his father, not if it meant becoming the kind of man that his father wanted him to be.

So it was a surprise to see Wes standing in the door to his office, hours after Angel thought he'd gone home. Their last conversation hadn't exactly been a successful one, since he never knew exactly how to comfort Wesley properly. But there Wes was, stoic as ever in spite of his red eyes.

And that was what probably hurt the most. Wes didn't cry. Not even the Wesley of Sunnydale cried, or Wes the Rogue Demon Hunter when he was being tortured by Faith. The man that Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was now would never cry. Not even when Lilah died. Wouldn't even flinch at the thought of stealing a man's child from his arms, just because of an ancient property.

The Wes of last year wouldn't have even come to Angel for comfort though, not with Connor still between them. Maybe that was another good side effect of his deal with the Senior Partners - at least Wesley could look him in the eye again and not feel like he'd betrayed Angel.

Even if Angel was having trouble meeting those blue eyes himself.

"Wes?"

The former Watcher turned former Rogue Demon Hunter turned Private Investigator turned Actual Head of Wolfram and Hart walked in, shuffling back and forth with a lack of confidence that Angel hadn't seen in months. Maybe even years. This was the uncertainty of a man who didn't know if he was actually invited to stay beyond breakfast. He could understand that. He couldn't understand wanting to kill his own father for reasons other than stupid hatred. Connor could've. Hell, even Spike could've. But Wes was here, looking to a clueless souled vampire for whatever he needed.

"I would like to take some time off," Wesley began in a measured voice. "There aren't any projects that currently need my governance, and I feel confident that the others can handle whatever comes up in their respective departments." He stopped in front of Angel's desk, his eyes still on the floor. "I'll not be gone long-"

"Wes?" A few steps, and he was standing next to the other man, wondering if Wesley had stopped eating again. He did that sometimes, when he got caught up in research. Or when he was nervous about something. Or hurting. If anything, the past five years had taught Angel when Wes was hurting. Unfortunately, it happened a lot. And unfortunately, nothing he did ever made the hurt go away.

So maybe it was stupid. Maybe he didn't need to cup Wesley's chin in his hand and force his face up, so that he could actually see the other man's eyes. The blue eyes were dry, because Wesley never let himself cry in front of others. He didn't know if that was the Britishness, or just Wes' own lack of self-confidence. The blue eyes were old-looking, held too many shadows even with all the ones the man had forgotten, but Angel could still see Wesley the Watcher buried in them. Maybe even Wesley the little boy who never could please his father, even if he did everything to become the man his father wanted him to be.

"Angel." And then Wesley's mouth found his. The lips were warm, tasted of salt. It surprised him how skilled the warm mouth was. Maybe it was all those languages he spoke. But he'd never really expected-well, not since that first year... Yeah, there were times when he'd thought that Wesley was even gayer than Lorne, since he didn't know anyone else that meticulous and detail-oriented. The kiss broke, Wes melting into the circle of his arms. This was a new Wesley, someone who had never sought comfort like this before. This wasn't the 'make it all better' comfort, this was the 'just let me rest a while and forget' comfort. At least that was something he knew how to give, even if he couldn't do it himself.

"We can't do this now." He pushed Wesley back gently. "It's not right. I can't take advantage of you like this. You're just mad about your dad, and I'm just…letting you kiss me because it feels good and-" He stopped before he twisted the knife in Wesley's heart a little more. "You need time off, right?"

Wes pulled back even further, eyes back on the floor. "Just a few days. There's a small town in the San Bernardino mountains that I've been meaning to visit. It's too early in the season for snow, but it isn't at all like home. England isn't something that I need to be reminded of just now." His voice shook slightly when he mentioned home. Maybe that was the reason why they fit so well together. It wasn't like any of their team had what could be called a normal home life…except for maybe Fred, but all those years in that cave in Pylea didn't help. "I understand if you don't want…"

"No." Angel caught Wes' hand before he could leave. "Wesley, it's not that…" He coughed, trying to ignore the hurt look in the other man's eyes. "You just killed your father. When I killed my father-okay, not exactly the same thing, but…" He tried to think of another analogy, of something to keep Wesley from walking out of the office for the last time. "When I had to kill Darla the first time, I-" And from the dark look on Wes' face, that was definitely not the right thing to say.

"We need time, Wes. Lemme think about all this. Make sure you don't want something just because you hurt and you want the hurt to go away. That never ends well. Sometimes it even ends with you being sent to hell because you tried to end the world by summoning this demon. Just… take the time off. It should be fine. I mean…we'll survive without you. We need you and everything, but it's not like Spike can destroy anything since he's incorporeal and-" Wes looked up, an amused look replacing the discomfort from earlier. It was almost a real smile. It had been a long time since he saw anything resembling a real smile on Wesley's face.

He moved closer, reaching out to touch the other man's stubbled cheek again. "Time away is good. We can think and…stuff. And that way you don't have to be reminded of-" How he almost smothered Wes to death once, the man that had been his best friend and partner and even more to him than Doyle, because Doyle had stayed because the Powers that Be made him, but Wes stayed because he chose to stay…

One nod from Wesley, shadows clouding his blue eyes again. "When I get back?" This time it was Shy Wesley again.

He smiled. Couldn't help it really. How anyone could be disappointed in Wesley, how anyone could fail to see the brilliantly strong and loyal man… Even when he hurt you, he only did it because it was what he believed was right, something he was utterly convinced of. "We'll talk."

A week came and went. Wes called from a cabin up in Big Bear to let everyone know he made it safely, but other than that, there wasn't any word. And in that time, Angel meant to think about it. But other things came up, like Spike getting all corporeal again, and the fact that shanshu might not really mean him, and how every male child he ever sired only came out wrong. Who's to say that Connor would've turned out stable and functional if he'd stayed with his father all those years? It wasn't like there was a manual for raising a child of vampires. Hell, he would've settled for a manual in how to control Spike. The Powers knew that decades of beating and fucking hadn't broken Dru's Sweet William.

Shanshu and a cup of Mountain Dew aside, Angel tried to remember his first sight of Wes. Of the slight brown-haired man who had always been sharp and honed, focused on the task at hand. Wesley the Watcher, a prime example of generations of having a stick up your ass can do to a family. Wesley the Watcher had been even worse than Giles had been, before Buffy helped the older Watcher lighten up a lot. Even then, there'd been something about Wes, something about a man whose convictions could never be changed, even when it was proven that he was wrong.

Wes the Watcher morphed into Wes, Rogue Demon Hunter. There was something fragile about him then, something reminded Angel of a poet he'd once eaten named William. Cordy thought he didn't see it, but he realized how much Wesley needed that little bit of meaning in his life, even if it was just the job of sidekick to a not quite willing Champion of the Powers that Be.

And in the four years in LA, Wes had changed even more. Surviving the bombing of their first office, getting shot in the gut, throat slit and almost smothered might do that to a guy. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was without a doubt the strongest man Angel knew. He still didn't give up on his convictions and beliefs, even if it meant killing who…what he thought was his father. Even if it meant stealing his adopted nephew. Even if it meant watching the girl he loved (well, had really good sex with on a regular basis) die.

But there was still a part of the man that was that fragile rogue demon hunter, the displaced Watcher who wasn't really sure what he place in the world was. And there was a large part of Angel who wanted to be the one to show him that place. But because of Connor and Lilah, he wasn't sure they could ever find that place again. It might've been too late with Darla. It might've been too late when Wes showed up for breakfast and Angel called him Doyle.

But Wesley had forgiven him for that. He'd even forgiven Angel for that whole Darla thing, which was something that Angel himself had yet to accomplish. Wesley had managed to look beyond the vampire who used to be Angelus and see some semblance of a man inside. And the other man never forgot the fact that Angelus could still take control at any moment. He never relaxed his guard or let himself pretend that the day would never come that he'd have to stake Angel. There was something incredibly admirable about that.

But if Wesley's kiss meant anything, there was a long way that they had to go before they could be anything more than coworkers. Wes had forgotten a lot of the bad parts of the past. He was able to do that, because of whatever magic the Senior Partners had worked on time. There might even come a time when Wes did remember, and that would most likely destroy anything they had. Yeah, Wesley and the others were undoubtedly happier since they didn't remember anything that had to do with Connor, but would Wes ever forgive Angel for the choice he made?

And it wasn't like there was anyone he could talk to about this. Wes turned to him for comfort because if anyone would understand regret, it was Angel. But Wesley wasn't a father. If anything, Wes was more like Connor than Angel, if he had a little more reason for all of his paternal resentment.

Wesley was the kind of guy who wouldn't forgive himself for what he did. Acting on the intention to kill his father would probably eat at him for the rest of his life. And Angel's own distrust probably didn't help. When it came down to it, Wes didn't have a choice in the matter. He had the same belief in his convictions that Angel himself had, to protect what they loved even if it meant betrayal of their family and friends. Darla for Faith. Connor for everyone's memories. Maybe it was time to forgive Wesley, so that he didn't lose his best friend and partner. If Cordy could forgive him for Darla and all of that shit, then he could forgive Wes. Maybe then Wes would forgive himself.

"Brooding again?" Wesley stood in the door, looking…relaxed. His smile actually reached his eyes now. "I was informed by your grandchilde that I was being transferred to our satellite office in the Valley, since he seems to have taken a liking to my view." And then Wes actually grinned. And Angel found himself grinning back.

Wesley walked in, standing in front of Angel's desk just as he had a week before. "It sounds like I missed quite a bit of excitement."

Angel shrugged. "Well, not counting the whole me and Spike fighting to the death over who really has a destiny thing, or the fact that Spike's got a body again and he's already replaced my shampoo with jello twice, not much." He studied Wes through his eyelashes. "How are you?"

"Not quite up to superb, but better, I do believe." There was that shy smile on Wesley's face again. He looked more confident than he had in a long time. "I did quite a lot of thinking. Perhaps a bit too much about what happened. If you minded what happened. What Cordy would think of what happened." Now it was Wes' turn to study him. "You?"

It was time to be honest with Wesley now, especially if he wanted to go any further with this. He couldn't lose the other man again. Not when Wesley was really all he had left. Not when both of them were out in the cold, looking for something more.

"Thinking. About stuff." He stood up, moving around until he was perched next to Wesley on the edge of his desk. The other man smelled like pine trees and fires, not quite like home, but comforting somehow. Like curling up with a warm blanket or a warm body. Like he could make Angel feel warm inside again, something that even Buffy couldn't do, since Buffy didn't really understand the weight of years and not being able to forgive yourself.

"Good things? Not quite good things? Anything remarkable?" Wesley moved closer, almost coyly. Wes the seducer was a new one. His flirting with Fred and Virginia had never been this open, or this cautious.

Angel traced the hand next to his with a gentle finger. "About how you're still here. About how stupid the Watcher's Council is not to take you back." He covered Wesley's hand with his. "About how I was stupid enough to lose you twice before, and I don't know if I can do it again."

Wesley's fingers tightened in his. "You won't lose me." His eyes were serious. "Not now. Not ever. The Powers might not have sent me to you like they did the others, but my place is still here with you, fighting at your side. " He smiled slightly. "If I left you for Spike, Cordy would probably wake up out of her coma just to hit me and drag me back."

It still hurt to think of Cordelia. There would always be love in his heart for her, the same way that he'd always love Buffy. If anything, Cordy taught him that love didn't have to be confined to one person at one time. People were in your life for only a moment, and if you missed that moment…

"Did I ever tell you that I was stupid and wrong?" Angel played with Wesley's fingers, turning the hand over to rub his fingertips against the sword calluses on the palm. "And that…I understand?"

The words wouldn't mean much now, but maybe on a subconscious level, Wesley would realize what he was offering. It was all he could offer. Maybe it would be enough.

"If you're forgiving me for being a git, then I understand that." Wes picked up their intertwined hands, his mouth gently touching each knuckle. "Can we start again? Ignoring the whole possibility of Angelus, can we do this?"

They couldn't forget Angelus, or Lilah, or Darla. Wesley'd already forgotten Connor, but because of all that, they probably actually had a chance. "I don't think I'm up to perfect happiness anymore, Wes." And maybe it was time they started protecting each other, since they didn't exactly have anyone else left to do it.

"So you'll settle for being content?" There was that old fear of letting someone down again. That was something Angel swore Wesley would never have to feel again.

"It's not settling. It's the fact that we've both been through too much." He wrapped his arms around Wesley's body, holding the other man close. He breathed in the scent of pine and wood and cold winter air, nuzzled the stubbled cheek with his nose. "Perfect happiness is for sixteen year old girls and delusional men who think they actually have white picket fences in their future. There's no one like us. It's not settling. It's holding on to what you have while you have it, and being smart enough to realize that you almost lost it the first two times."

Wesley's mouth found his, kissing as tentatively as he did before. When Angel didn't resist, the lips grew bolder, tasting him almost reverently. Something burned in the pit of Angel's belly that he hadn't felt in a long time. This would be more than the meaningless fuck that Eve was. This would be more than the epiphany he got with Darla. This could even be what he was aiming for all along-someone who understood his darkness and his light, and the fact that sometimes he just needed to hold someone and be held. Without the angst and the drama and the complications.

"What would you like to do now?" Wesley's voice was breathless in his ear.

Angel began walking him backwards towards the elevator, towards a warm bed and a warm fire flickering on the HDTV in his suite upstairs. "Hold you for a while, if you don't mind." He kissed his way across Wesley's face, nibbling on the other man's ear. "We can worry about everything else later"

The lamp is burning low upon my table top the snow is softly falling
The air is still within the silence of my room I hear your voice softly calling
If I could only have you near to breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love on this winter night with you

The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead my glass is almost empty
I read again between the lines upon the page the words of love you sent me
If I could know within my heart that you were lonely too
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love upon this winter night with you

The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim the shades of night are lifting
The morning light steals across my windowpane where webs of snow are drifting
If I could only have you near to breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love and to be once again with with you
To be once again with with you
- Song For A Winter's Night, Sarah McLachlan