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Generations
By MeriBeth

Four months, Wes thought, looking up from the pieces of the Nyazian scroll that he and Gunn had retrieved. Four months of worry. Of wondering if she’d ever truly forgive me, especially now. Wesley watched Fred, listening to her soft laughter as she listened to Gunn’s quiet instruction, the other man having undertaken to train Fred as best they could considering her condition. That thought caused Wes’ eyes to drop to her barely rounded belly, his mind going back to the scene two months earlier, when she’d come to his apartment.

***

“I’m sorry,” Wes murmured, looking at Fred from his position by the door, leaning heavily on it. He couldn’t believe that she was here, standing so tentatively outside his apartment door. “I’m so very sorry.”

“Shh,” Fred whispered, reaching a hand toward him, dropping it when he once again flinched away from her touch, much the way she still did when he tried to touch her. She mentally scolded herself; this was getting her nowhere. He needed to know and they both needed to decide what to do from here. “May I come in?” Fred asked softly, drawing in a breath, determined to not show just how very afraid of him she still was, how much it was costing her to come here. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

“Certainly,” Wes replied, opening the door a bit farther, stepping back to allow her entrance. He quietly closed the door as Fred edged around him into the living room, settling rather nervously on the sofa. “What is it?” Wes crossed the room, entering the kitchen and finishing the tea that he had started before her arrival. He watched her fidget on the sofa as he leaned on the half-wall that separated the small kitchen from the living room. “Would you like some tea, Fred?”

Fred jumped, startled out of her thoughts, memories of the innocent dinner in this very apartment before everything went so dreadfully wrong. “What?” she stuttered. “Tea? No, the doctor said I shouldn’t. . . . “ Fred trailed off, dropping her gaze to the floor.

“Doctor?” Wes asked softly, coming back into the living room to sit in the armchair, leaning toward her in concern. “What doctor?” He stared at her intently, watching her with very worried eyes. “Are you sick?”

“Only in an expected way,” Fred muttered, rising from the sofa to pace restlessly around the apartment.

Wes leaned back in the chair, watching her and worrying. “Fred, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s no easy way to say this, Wesley.” Fred returned to the sofa, sighing heavily and slowly meeting his eyes. “I’m pregnant.” As soon as she said the words, she ducked her head, allowing her hair to hide her face, dreading what Wes would say in response.

Wesley rose to his feet, crossing the small space between them to kneel on the floor in front of her. “You’re certain?” Wes asked softly, and then shook his head. “Of course you are. You mentioned a doctor.” He knelt there, sighing softly and then slowly reached for her, carefully brushing her hair back to look at her face. “What do you want to do now, Fred?”

“I . . .. “ Fred gathered herself, forcing herself to meet his eyes and not flinch away from his hand on her hair. “I don’t know,” she mumbled, looking away again. Slowly, after taking several deep breaths, she raised her head, meeting Wes’ eyes again. “I do know one thing, I won’t . . .. “

“You’re going to keep the baby?” Wes interrupted, surprised, his hand dropping from her hair.

“Yes,” Fred all but hissed back. “The baby’s innocent, regardless of the circumstances.” She stared into his eyes, worried and a bit angry. “Why? Did you want me to get rid of it?”

“No, Fred.” Wes kept his eyes on hers, watching her and seeing the anger in her eyes. That was the truest emotion he’d seen in weeks. “Never.” He shifted back so that he was sitting on the floor. “Fred, do you want to get married?”

“What?”

“Do you want to get married?” Wesley repeated. He looked away for a moment, and then returned his gaze to her. “You were right when you said that we had to talk. There’s something that you need to know.” He rose to his feet, pacing back and forth, by the bookshelves in the living room.

Fred watched Wes pace for a moment, sighing softly, and then curled her legs up under her on the sofa. “May I have a glass of milk while we talk? I’m thirsty.” She watched Wes still completely, before heading for his kitchen, fetching the drink she’d asked for and returning to her side, settling on the far end of the sofa from her. “What is it we need to talk about?”

“Fred, you know I was a Watcher?” Wes waited for her to nod before he continued. “There are certain traits carried in the bloodlines of the Watcher families. It makes us very appealing to demons and vampires, especially our children.”

“What does that mean?” Fred asked softly, sipping at the glass of milk and frowning a bit.

“It means that you and the baby will be in danger.” Wes sighed again. “Fred, I don’t ever want to see you hurt again. I don’t think I could handle that.” He dropped his gaze to the still angry, still healing scar on his wrist. “If we’re married, there are steps that can be taken to protect you. I won’t force you into anything. I would never do that to you again. But I want to protect you as far as you’ll allow me to.”

Fred looked away, setting her glass on the coffee table. “I need to think about this, Wesley. Gunn’s already offered to teach me the crossbow, even though he says that you’re better than him. Would any of the others know about this?”

Wes heard the doubt in her voice and saw it in her eyes. “You think I’m lying?” He rose again, pacing away from her to lean against the bookshelves.

“I don’t know what to think. We’ve avoided each other since that night.” Fred rose, debating with herself. Finally, she decided that one of them had to make the first move. He would never be willing to come near her until she made a move toward him. Crossing the room, she rested a shaking hand on his back, stroking the muscles carefully. “Wesley,” Fred broke off as she felt him stiffen beneath her touch, then continued in an almost whisper. “Wesley, I still trust you. If you want to get married, we will. I just don’t think I could live with you yet.”

***

Fred’s happy squeal drew Wes out of his memories. He refocused his gaze on her, where she was currently jumping into Gunn’s arms, the crossbow forgotten in her hand. Wes sighed, resting his hands on the desktop and levering himself to his feet. It still bothered him, worried him, that his wife was happier with any other member of the team than him. He headed for the door, leaning on the frame and sharing a brief smile with Gunn over Fred’s head. Wes listened as Fred thanked Gunn for his help and smiled as Gunn brushed it off, as something friends were for.

“If you ask me, they’re for knocking you up and leaving you high and dry.”

Wes whirled, instinctively stepping closer to a weapon, casting a sharp look at Gunn. “Darla.” The name echoed in the lobby as everyone turned to face where the very pregnant vampire stood on the top landing of the front stairs. Wesley watched as Cordy turned on Angel, sharply questioning the vampire about whether or not he’d slept with Darla. He didn’t pay much attention to the conversation, instead concentrating on figuring out this new puzzle, anything to keep his mind off of Fred and their personal problems.

“Vampires can’t have children. Wesley?”

“What?” Wes was again jarred out of his thoughts, this time by Angel. He turned to the other man, shaking his head as he did so. “I’m sorry, Angel. I was trying to think if there was any correlation between this and the prophecy.”

“I said vampires can not have children.”

“He’s right, Cordy. This is impossible.” Wesley crossed the lobby to Darla, who had just slapped Angel, knocking him into the weapon’s cabinet. He rested a hand on Darla’s back, leading her back to the sofa. “Here, you should rest while we try to figure this out.” Looking up, he met Fred’s eyes. “Could you go check my math on the Nyazian Scroll? It’s on my desk.” At her nod, he readdressed Angel and Cordy. “Angel, this may be what’s referred to in that scroll. It depends on whether I did the maths right. No matter what, this is something to be concerned about.”

Stepping back from Darla, he scanned the lobby, watching all the members of their group. Drawing in a breath, he started issuing orders. “Angel, go to Caritas; ask Lorne to come back here. Cordy, you stay with Darla. I think that you should lie down, perhaps in Angel’s suite. Gunn, you keep an eye on things.”

Angel was already heading for the sewer tunnels when he suddenly stopped, turning back to Wesley. “Wait a minute. What are you going to be doing?”

Everyone paused in their automatic following of Wes’ orders, Fred even returning from the office to stand questioningly in the doorway. Wes hunched his shoulders, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Hoping that I’m wrong.” Turning away from the group, he headed for the counter, dragging the phone across the counter and dialing a transatlantic phone number from memory. “Please, we need to figure this out. If the scrolls are correct,” Wes stopped speaking, giving everyone a speaking glance as he turned his attention to the phone.

Wes watched, listening absently to the man on the other end of the line, as everyone went about their assigned tasks, save for Fred. His wife crept closer to him, resting a hand on the edge of the counter. Without thinking, he placed a hand over hers, stroking her wedding ring even as he turned his attention to the man on the phone. “I know that you knew I’d be calling. That’s in your job description. I need to speak with Elizabeth.” Wes lifted Fred’s hand, surprised that she was allowing him to touch her in any way. “Tell her that it’s her brother. She’ll speak to me.” Wes pressed a gently kiss to Fred’s fingers before releasing her and nodding toward his office.

Fred shook her head, leaning on the side of the counter and listening intently to his side of the conversation. She didn’t understand most of what he was saying, as he seemed to be flitting back and forth between several different languages before finally settling back into English. She was, however, surprised at the crispness of his tone when he did so. He hasn’t spoken like that since he raped me. Fred closed her eyes, surprised with herself. She had managed to think of that evening without shaking and wanting to scream. Slowly, she opened her eyes to meet Wes’ curious expression, smiling slightly and waiting for him to be finished.

“You’re certain? Very well. Thank you, Elizabeth.” Wes slowly set the phone in its cradle, resting his hands on the counter. He turned his attention to Fred. “Please check the math for me? This is bigger than I thought.”

*******

Wesley leaned on the office doorframe, watching Fred as she pored over his notes from the scroll, the notes from the call he’d just made and some odd program she’d installed on his laptop. It was in moments like these, quiet and still, that he could believe everything was well between them. For a moment, he allowed himself to dream, dream that they were happy, not estranged. He didn’t know that he was smiling almost dreamily as he watched her.

Fred looked up, intending on asking Wesley about a word in the notes that she didn’t understand, then saw him smiling at her, his eyes a bit unfocused as if he was thinking about something. She watched him for a moment, not wanting to interrupt him when she felt it, a soft flutter. She gasped, dropping the pen she was using to place her hand on her belly.

Fred’s gasp drew Wesley out of his reverie. “Fred? Is something the matter?” Wes asked, quickly crossing the room to drop to his knees beside her. “Liskurja?”

Fred raised damp eyes to meet Wes’ and smiled at him, reaching out to catch one of his hands, entwining their fingers and resting their hands on her stomach. “She moved.” Fred slowly released Wes’ hand, reaching out to brush her fingers over his cheek. Her voice was soft, full of the wonder of the moment and the tentative connection that they had formed. “You called me darling.”

“Yes,” Wes murmured, “I did.” He leaned into her light touch, smiling at her. “Does it bother you?” Wes looked away, removing his hand and slowly rising to his feet. He crossed the room, returning to his place in the doorway. He turned back to face her, sighing softly. “I didn’t want to remind you of that, but I do love you. I wanted you to know that. I’m sorry if it bothers you.”

“No, I think it’s sweet,” Fred replied, rising. “Your math’s right, Wes. Whatever’s happening is happening today.” She wandered across the room, one hand still resting on her stomach. Reaching Wes’ side, she placed her free hand on his arm. “It doesn’t bother me, but something’s bothering you. What is it?”

“It doesn’t matter, liskurja.” Wes shook his head, stepping back into the lobby, intending on dealing with the problem that was even now upstairs in Angel’s suite: Darla and her unborn child. “Thank you for checking that for me.” He turned away, sighing softly.

Fred grabbed his arm, stilling him. “Please, Wesley, talk to me.”

“How can I?” Wes jerked from her hold. “I love you, have always loved you, and you can hardly stand to be around me anymore.” He bowed his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Are you punishing me, Fred? Because I didn’t fight it hard enough, because I didn’t succeed in sending you away?” He started toward the stairs, not wanting to argue with her, knowing that her hormones, not any real feelings for him, had probably brought on their brief moment of happiness.

“Wesley!” Fred called after him, waiting until he stopped though he didn’t turn before she continued. “I don’t know, maybe I am. Subconsciously, I mean.” She was crossing the lobby to join him as she spoke, somehow knowing that any chance for a real relationship, not the almost business-like marriage that they currently had, hinged on her honesty at this moment. “I don’t mean to, truly. I just wasn’t ready. You hurt me.” She stepped around him, looking up at him with damp eyes. “That trust we had was shattered. I needed time.” She took a step closer, deliberately putting herself in harm’s reach, something she hadn’t done since that night, reaching out and catching his hand in hers. “Things are getting better now, at least I think they are.” She ducked her head, shaking it to cause her hair to fall forward, hiding behind it as she tentatively asked a question in a soft, almost meek voice. “Aren't they?”

Wesley reached out with his free hand, lifting her chin so that he could see her face, but most of all her eyes. Her eyes were so very expressive, often full of secrets that he didn’t have a right to yet, but she could never lie to you. Her eyes always gave her away. “Ves' tacha,” he murmured. “I hope they are as well.” He dropped his hand from her chin, entwining their fingers so that he could kiss her knuckles for a moment. Keeping that light clasp on her hand, Wes headed upstairs to deal with a situation that had the potential to go very bad, very quickly.

*******

Wesley paused outside the door to Angel’s suite, drawing a breath before pushing the door open. All his protective instincts overrode his upbringing, causing him to step in front of Fred as they entered the room. Within they found Gunn watching Cordy talk to Darla, the vampiress lying on the bed, propped up by pillows. Wesley watched her, dropping Fred’s hand and slowly crossing the room, fighting his impulse to snatch the crossbow from Gunn and use it to brutal effect.

All his instincts told him to take Darla out, destroy her before she could do any harm to his family. Yet she was important to Angel, so he would try to save her. He knew though that it would be almost impossible. He met Cordy’s gaze briefly before looking at Darla. “Darla, may I?” He reached out a hand, holding it above her very swollen stomach.

“I won’t bite,” Darla replied, her eyes watching not Wesley but Fred wander the room. “I want this thing out of me. I’ve been to every shaman, witch doctor and voodoo priest I could find. They all say the same thing.”

Wesley carefully slid a hand over Darla’s distended abdomen, feeling both the beginning contractions and the baby’s own movements in response to them. He frowned in thought, slowly removing his hand and rising. The sound of a low whistle caused him to look toward the door, seeing Lorne and Angel in the opening.

Lorne took a step into the room and froze, again whistling softly. “Born of darkness, the bringer of darkness. “

“Created of death, the destroyer of worlds,” Wesley continued in an almost whisper as he stepped around the bed to the foot of it, staring at Darla as he did so. “For surely when Luna waxes in Khedar, the skies will open, heaven’s armies weep. In death and dust, welcomed by fire, Mal’drojan reborn.” Wesley had no sooner finished his recitation than a streak of lightning lit the night outside the windows.

“Wesley?” Angel all but snarled at him, crossing the room to grab the Englishman by the shoulders. He began shaking him, demanding answers. “Are you daring to imply that my child is going to bring about the end of the world?”

Wesley felt his vertebrae snap with the force of Angel’s shaking. “Angel, stop,” he gasped, his words echoed by Fred who ran at Angel, grabbing the vampire’s arm.

“Stop it!” she cried. “You’re hurting him.”

Angel acted on his demonic instincts, or at least that’s what he would claim later, and backhanded Fred, knocking her onto the bed and into Darla’s reach. Fred’s cry of shocked surprise spiraled up into a scream of pure pain, one that was extremely familiar to Wesley. Combined it was enough to snap him out of his pain-filled daze, jerking out of Angel’s grasp and scrambling for the crossbow that Gunn held, the black man in an almost state of shock at the ferocity of Darla’s assault on Fred.

Wesley jerked the crossbow out of Gunn’s loose hold, whirling back to the bed and facing a scene out of one of his worst nightmares. Darla had Fred by the hair, her fangs sunk fully into Fred’s neck as she snarled while feeding. Fred was whimpering, the only sound that she could make now, and struggling weakly in the older woman’s hold. Wes took a step to his left, giving him a clear shot on Darla. He raised the crossbow and fired, dropping it as soon as he did so in order to scramble onto the bed, reaching for Fred. Nothing registered with him, not Gunn and Cordelia’s shocked gasps or Angel’s cry of negation; Wesley’s sole concern was Fred.

Wesley gathered Fred against him, brushing the dust that had been Darla off her shoulder and out of her hair. He was relieved to feel her snuggle into him, her arms going around him, her face buried in his neck. He held her as tight as he could until he felt her squirm and then he slowly released her, the noises in the room beginning to register again.

Over the rolling thunder and pouring rain, the shrill cries of a newborn could be heard. Those cries drowned out whatever else was being said in the room. Wesley slowly released Fred, wondering what she was doing as she reached for the baby, turning it over to reveal the fact that it was a boy. She gathered the baby into her arms, leaning back against Wesley. Fred allowed Wesley to support her weight while humming softly to the child in her arms.

Lorne watched the couple on the bed, watched the tender way that Wesley held Fred and smiled. They had a long, rough road ahead of them, but perhaps Wes’ late night trips to Caritas would soon end. The demon stepped closer to the couple, smiling down at the screaming child, and the looked at Fred. “You’re about to be a mother. I’m sure you know what that cry means,” he said softly, just audible to them.

Fred blushed at Lorne’s words, turning her head to hide her face in Wes’ neck. He’s right, though. I do know, Fred thought, wondering what would happen if she did what all her instincts were screaming at her to do. Fred gathered all her courage, drew in a fortifying breath and shifted a bit where she leaned on Wesley, not wanting to lose that contact. She glanced at Cordelia, opening her mouth to make a request of her, when Angel’s angry snarl cut through the proceedings.

“You bastard!” Angel began stalking toward Wesley, menace written in every line of his body. “You killed her. Deprived my son of his mother. I should. . . . “ Angel’s threats were cut off as he felt a loaded crossbow pressed against his chest, his eyes meeting those of a very angry Charles Gunn.

“Back off.” Gunn cocked the crossbow, leaving it ready to fire. “What was he supposed to do, allow your undead whore to murder his wife and child?”

*******

Wesley looked up from the scroll that was unrolled across his desktop, smiling at the sight in front of him. After Gunn’s threat to Angel, the vampire had quieted some and everyone had returned downstairs. Wes chuckled softly at the memory of Fred’s quiet taking of control of the situation upstairs, much the way a mother would, making soft requests that were actually orders.

“What’s so funny?” Fred asked quietly, looking up from watching the baby.

“Just remembering how you took control upstairs.” Wesley smiled at her, circling the desk to perch on the corner of the desk closet to her. “I never would have expected that of you.”

Fred shook her head. “It needed to be done.” She sighed, running a finger over the baby’s cheek. “I’m worried, Wesley.” She met Wes’ gaze, seeing in his brilliant blue eyes the same edge of worry. “Angel truly frightened me.”

“I’m sorry, liskurja,” he murmured. “I wanted to protect you. I forgot how attached he is. . . . was . . . to Darla.” Wesley looked away for a moment, recalling that scene in the upstairs suite.

***

“Angel!” Fred cried. “Calm down. You’re upsetting the baby.” She swayed slightly back and forth to try to quiet him. “Cordelia, there’s an afghan on that chair behind you. Could you give it to me?”

Fred watched Cordelia shrug, but the other woman did as Fred requested. Fred handed the baby to Lorne, laughing at the demon’s awkwardness with the infant. Once she was certain that Lorne was holding the baby properly, she draped the afghan over her shoulder, tossing the extra mass of it behind her and Wesley where she leaned against him. “Gunn, would you take Cordelia out to get a few things for the baby?” she asked softly, her hands busy under the afghan with her shirt. “We need a bassinet or cradle, some sleepers, onesies and some diapers.” Fred broke off for a minute, her brow wrinkling as she thought. “And a few blankets, what with how cold it is in here.” Fred tilted her head back, whispering in Wes’ ear, “Wesley, would you undo my bra, please?”

Wesley blushed but complied with her request as Fred reached for the baby, realization dawning on him that she intended on feeding the baby herself, rather than give him formula. Something that Cordelia was even now asking about. Wesley answered Cordy, even as he resettled the afghan over Fred, covering her and the baby. “Don’t worry about the formula, Cordelia. That’s taken care of.”

“What are you doing with my son?” Angel snarled, glowering at the scene even as Cordelia headed for the door. Both Cordelia and Gunn stopped, Gunn rearming the crossbow he’d lowered when Angel had seemed to settle. “Answer me.”

“I’m feeding him,” she replied, gasping softly as the child latched onto her breast. She tilted her head back to look at Wesley who was watching her with a surprised look. “What did you think I was doing?” She tightened her grasp on the baby, scooting closer to the edge of the bed and accepting Lorne’s help in getting up. “Did you really think I was going to allow him to scream his head off until someone came back with some formula?” Fred glared at the vampire, anger in her eyes and waited, waited for an answer that Angel apparently wasn’t willing to give for the vampire growled at everyone and stormed out of the room. It was mere minutes before the front doors slammed downstairs.

***

“Something’s happened before, hasn’t it?”

Fred’s softly voiced question drew Wes back to the present, causing him to turn back to her. “Yes. Before you joined us. It’s a long, complex story. I’ll tell you later.” He accepted her nod and drew in a breath. “Fred, I’m not pushing you or anything, but I’d feel much better if you would move into my apartment with me.”

“Why?”

“Darla’s attack for one.” Wes rose again, shifting around to pace before the desk. “I’m concerned that Angel may attack you in much the same way. “ Wes started to continue when he was interrupted by a sharp, commanding voice from behind him.

“You should have worried about us.”

The words were accompanied by the sound of a gun cocking. Wes tensed, knowing that a ready, loaded weapon was pointed at his back. He drew in a breath, turning slowly in place, trying to stay between Fred and the gun. “Wolfram and Hart, I assume?”

“Very good, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce.” The man, dressed in urban camouflage, kept his gun trained on Wesley, even as he waved a hand for those accompanying him to enter the office. “If you’ll just instruct your wife to hand over the infant, we’ll be on our way and no one will need to get hurt.”

“You don’t expect me to believe that,” Wes replied, stepping back toward the desk, trying his best to protect Fred. “Considering that you happen to have a loaded gun on me, I expect you to kill us to keep Angel from knowing. . . . “

“Knowing what, Wes?” Angel’s voice asked from the outer room. “That these guys didn’t bring gifts?” Angel stepped up behind the man in the doorway, resting the tip of a sword on the back of his neck. “Tell your men to drop their weapons. I have you, the outer guards are dead, and those in here are covered. “ Angel tilted his head at the man closest to Fred, seeing Wes’ acknowledgement of the signal in the other man’s eyes.

“Sorry, I have my orders. The child goes back with us.”

“I thought you’d say that,” Angel replied, swinging the sword and beheading the man in front of him, watching as Wes went for the man just inside the side door.

“Down, Fred,” Wes snapped, even as he followed Angel’s signal, punching the guard to the side of the desk, snatching his gun and turning it on him. “Never threaten my wife,” he snapped, firing once as the man came for him with a knife. Seeing as no one else was coming in, Wes dropped the gun on the desk, kneeling beside to check on Fred. “Are you all right?” He held a hand out to her, helping her rise from the floor.

“I’m fine.” Fred slowly climbed to her feet, still cradling the infant in her arms. “What’s going on?”

“Shh.” Wes rested a finger over her lips, quieting her. Wes snatched his leather jacket off the back of the desk chair, draping it over her and nodded at the papers piled on the front of the desk. “Angel, grab those.” Wesley wrapped an arm around Fred, guiding her around the bodies littering the office and the lobby. “Make sure you get everything.”

Angel grabbed the papers, following the couple through the lobby to the front doors that he opened for them. “Anything else?” he asked softly, smiling reassuringly at Fred.

Wes paused, half-in, half-out of the hotel. “Yes, actually.” Turning away from Angel’s questioning look, he addressed the lobby. “I know you have to be watching us from somewhere, or you would have asked for Darla as well. I’d appreciate your cleaning this up before we return tomorrow.” Nodding once, more to himself than anyone else, Wes assisted Fred out of the hotel, Angel following them outside, where Gunn and Cordy waited with the cars.

*******

Linwood Murrow glared at both Gavin Park and Lilah Morgan. “I could never be involved in such an ill-conceived, badly thought out and ultimately botched operation.”

“Of course, sir.” Lilah managed to hold onto to her temper at Gavin’s shocked looked. “This is because you weren’t here.”

“Correct.” Linwood tucked a handkerchief into his pocket, straightening his coat and heading for the door. “Of course, when I hear about this at Friday’s staff meeting, I will be appalled and shocked.”

“He’s going to destroy us.”

“Not if we take care of the details, as requested, first.” Lilah pulled a cell phone from a pocket, dialing a number and waiting a moment. “Harvey. It’s Lilah. I’ve got a job for you. Angel Investigations.” She headed over to the table, pulling plugs on equipment and stacking optical discs into neat stacks. “Right. Full cleaner service and include the items that Park had in place. They’ve been discovered.” Lilah turned to Gavin, laughing softly. “We may find a use for this, but they won’t do or say anything important in that hotel again until they are sure it’s secure.”