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Spinning
By Annabelle

SPECIAL NOTE: This story does not have Evil Fred in it at all, this is more along the lines of what I normally write and is kind of sad.

TITLE: Spinning
AUTHOR: Annabelle
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. I just like to write. Don't sue, please!
SUMMARY: Wesley's life always seem to be coming undone
DISTRIBUTION: FanFiction.Net, Wishing Hearts, Hello World: Fan Fiction Is Fun, anyone else please ask first
RATING: PG
WARNING: Very sad, but not evil Fred or evil Wesley at all.
THANK YOUS: Many times over to MeriBeth for being the best beta!

FEEDBACK: Lots of it please! Send to Annabelle_felicity@hotmail.com

Spinning - Chapter 2: Nurture Remorse
by Annabelle

Fred watched him walk quietly into the hotel at an incredibly early hour. She wasn't surprised by it though, the fact that Wesley wanted to avoid Angel and Cordelia couldn't surprise anyone, they hadn't been very nice to him. Although there was the fact that they were blaming him for Connor being taken, which wasn't entirely his fault, because if Wesley hadn't taken Connor and left him there Holtz would have killed the baby or taken him, and if Holtz took him then he would have been stopped by Wolfram and Hart and then Connor would have been killed. No one understood that but her, or at least it seemed that way. Gunn was still edgy around him, but she was starting to think that had to do more with her renewed friendship with Wesley rather than the fact that Gunn was mad at him about Connor.

Without making a sound, she carefully walked down the stairs and moved to stand in the doorway of his office. Fred watched as he pulled out some papers and started to work. It was true that he was no longer the boss but Gunn, after some pushing from her, had said that he really didn't need an office and since Wesley was the paper guy it made more sense for him to keep it. Besides, Fred knew for a fact that Gunn never liked offices; he said they made him felt walled in. Slowly Wesley picked up a heavy sliver pen and started to drag it across the paper. He was always working, reading, searching, and trying his hardest to find a way to bring Connor back. Sometimes she wished that she hadn't told him that the prophecy was a fake, she did it because she was mad, not at him but at Gunn. She had been hurt and she wanted someone else to hurt as well, it was completely selfish but it was part of what made her human. But she couldn't take it back, not that it would matter, the prophecy was still a fake and they still had to find a way to bring back Connor.

"Hey there," Fred said in a quite voice. She flinched a little when she saw him jump and his pen fly up. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare ya."

Wesley took in a deep breath. "No," he shook his head. "It's alright. I am just a bit jumpy today that's all."

She looked at him then moved to go sit in the chair in front of him. She put her elbows on his desk and used them to prop up her head. "Why," she asked. "Is it because Angel and Cordy are back?"

"No," he chuckled. "Well that is part of it, but there is something else. I can't explain it."

"You'll figure it out," she stood up and looked at him. "Have you even eaten today?"

"Fred," he sighed. Then he saw the look she was giving him. "No, I haven't."

"Wesley," she shook her head at him. "Alright I am going to the dinner. When I come back you and I are going to have breakfast. You know you are suppose to be the smart one."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Wesley was taken aback by her comment.

"Nothing," she shrugged and stood up. Then she tossed him a look over her shoulder from the door of the office. "Just that you should know that you would think better on a full stomach rather than an empty one."

"Alright," he rolled his eyes. "I give in." Then he eyed her. "Shouldn't you be having breakfast with Gunn?"

"What," Fred whipped around and half glared at him. "That's not funny Wesley."

"I am sorry," he gave her an apologetic look. "I am just having a really bad day that is all."

"But it hasn't even started yet," Fred looked at him. "How can you be having a bad day already?"

Wesley pushed back from his desk. He wanted to tell her, to tell someone, anyone. Looking over at the picture frame, which held the fade piece of cloth, he had placed on the desk he sighed and shook his head. "It's nothing," he forced a smile. Fred tilted her head and he sighed again. "Alright it is something but I don't want to talk about it. I mean if I asked you how things were going with Gunn lately you wouldn't want to answer that question either."

Fred frowned and then an idea came to her. "Yes I would," she turned around again. "But after I heat up some Chinese food for us."

"Fred," he called after her. "It's eight o'clock in the morning! We can't eat Chinese food now."

"Says who," she answered back from the refrigerator that they kept behind the desk. "Now do you want Chicken and Cashews or Beef Lo Mien?"

"Beef," he replied grimacing a bit since he knew she could see him.

Fred popped the containers in the microwave and then went back to stand in the doorway of his office while the food heated up. "But you hated that Beef Lo Mien, actually you aren't that fond of beef for that matter."

"That's not true," he picked up his pen and started to look over the papers. "I happen to love Beef Lo Mien."

"Whatever," she shook her head. "That's just too bad for you cause you can't have it."

"What," he looked up at her. "But I thought-"

"I was just askin' to be nice," Fred shrugged and went back to the microwave when it started to beep. "I want the Beef Lo Mien."

"Liar," he huffed.

She laughed at him. "Right back at ya," she smiled. Then she handed him the Chicken and Cashews box with a fork in it. "So things with me and Gunn huh?" Fred carefully chose her words as she chewed. "Well," she swallowed her food, "they couldn't be any worse. I mean honestly Wesley, he doesn't understand half of what I say. I mean I know we aren't going out cause he dumped me and all, and yeah sure we were trying to work on getting back together but I don't know. What happens when I leave Angel Investigations and go back to my work as a physicist? When we to go to parties at the Dean's house? He is just going to feel so uncomfortable. I don't know maybe things are just better the way they are." Fred looked at him and saw that he wasn't eating his food. "Well eat, or I won't tell you anymore."

"You have to," he teased her. "I am your surrogate brother so by law you have to tell me what is going on with your life." Then he picked up his fork and started to chew, it was a good way for him to hide how he was feeling. "Go on then."

Fred chuckled. "Wesley, you could never be my surrogate brother," she saw him frown and quickly added. "It would just be too weird." She ate some more and then started to talk again. "The thing of is, I am tried of having to explain myself to him in three different ways. And his jokes, well they are just getting old."

"His jokes are old and you are sick of explaining yourself," Wesley bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Those have to be the best excuses I have ever heard for breaking up with someone, or rather staying broken up with them."

"Oh," she growled. Then Fred took some a bit of noodle from the Beef Lo Mien and flung at him. "How about, he sold his soul and we almost had to deal with Angelus, and he broke up with me in the first place, without telling me why!"

Wesley thought about for a moment. "Well I guess those are better," he put the food down and looked at her. "But really Fred, to be serious. You should be sure that you aren't going to regret this. You don't want to spend the rest of your life going, if I only had said something a half second earlier."

"What does that have to do with anything," Fred gave him an odd look. "I haven't said anything yet and when I do say something, saying it a half second earlier won't matter."

He bit his lip because he realized what he had said. "Nothing," Wesley shook his head. "Sorry getting advice tactics mixed up, giving the wrong advice to the wrong person, that was for Cordelia not you."

"You are unbelievable," she put down her food container. "I should just leave you know. I am highly offended that you tried to pass of advice for Cordelia on me. We have to completely different situations."

"I know," he apologized. "I am sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

"Tell me why you are having such a bad day," Fred said quickly.

"You're trying to pull one over on me," he snorted.

Fred gave him an innocent look, "Am not."

"Why do you insist upon lying to me," Wesley gave her hurt look. "You wound me."

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at him. "Now I told you what was going on with me and Gunn so you owe me."

"Do I now," Wesley laughed. "You told me about Gunn of your own free will."

"Did not," she hissed at him. "It was a trade, fair and equal. I told you about Gunn and you tell me what is buggin' ya."

"You know your accent becomes more pronounced when you get upset," Wesley tried to distract her.

She shook her head. "Nope," she said firmly, "not gonna work. Now tell me what's wrong."

"What's wrong?" Gunn asked from the doorway. "Everything okay Wes?"

"Everything is fine," Wesley smiled at him. "I was just telling Fred the same thing."

"Oh," Gunn nodded. "Well then, hey! Fred, you ate. I thought we were going to breakfast."

"Huh," Fred turned around and grimaced at him. "Oh, I'm sorry Gunn. I forgot. It was just Wesley hadn't eaten and well, never mind. I am sorry."

"It's cool," Gunn grumbled. "Just call next time so I can get something before coming in." He turned to leave, "I'll be back in a while. Gotta eat."

"Sorry Gunn," Fred called after him. Then she turned back to Wesley. "Do you think he bought it?"

"Bought what," Wesley eyed her.

Fred sighed. "That I forgot about breakfast," she said in an exasperated tone. "I mean, never mind."

"You keep saying that."

"Cause I mean it."

Wesley gave her another look. "So you know how I feel when I say that I don't want to talk about what is bothering me?"

"You aren't getting out of it that easy," Fred shook her head at him.

"Hey," Cordelia ducked her head in the office.

"Brother," Fred sighed. "Hi Cordy, yes Wesley is here, no I am not going to tell him that you never want to speak with him again, and no I am not going to let you pretend that Wesley is a non person, if you want to talk to him then do it yourself. Same goes for Angel."

"Geez what's with you," Cordelia huffed and walked away.

Fred watched her go and started to fume. "Unbelievable. Honestly, they just don't understand anything, all they want is blood."

"It's understandable," Wesley whispered. "They lost a lot."

"They would have lost more if it wasn't for you," Fred grumbled. "If Connor had stayed Angel would have to watch them kill Connor. At least now we have some chance to get him back."

Wesley tried to smile at her. "You are grasping at straws, Fred," he shook his head. "The truth is we don't know what would happen. And the point is that what did happen was my fault."

"Well I don't want to hear it anymore," Fred said firmly and picked up a book from his desk. "Nothing gets done by dwelling on the past."

"Yes," Wesley nodded slowly. Her words hit him more then she could realize. "Sometimes," he paused to look at the frame with the faded piece of fabric in it. "Other times though."

Fred looked up from her book and reached out to him. "Wesley," her voice was soft. "There is nothing you can do now to change it. You just have to focus on trying to moving on, not just in the sense correcting past mistakes, but also in the sense of letting go of them so they don't consume you and make you blind to possible solutions."

"There is just so much," Wesley hung his head. Then he looked at the fabric and heard a voice in his head. 'I am sorry sir,' a policeman had said. 'We just cannot find the body. The river had been dragged over and over. There is just no sign.'

'What does that mean,' Wesley father had asked. 'Does that mean that she could still be alive?'

'I don't see how sir,' the policeman nodded. 'But we have to keep her case open. It is part of protocol but I wouldn't expect anything.'

"Wesley," Fred called to him. "Wesley, are you alright?"

"Huh," Wesley shook his head. "I am sorry. I was just lost in thought for a moment."

"Wesley," Fred took his had from across the desk. "What is really bothering you? I can tell that it has nothing to do with Connor, it is something else, isn't?"

Wesley was a little taken aback. "It is nothing else," he told her and pulled his hand back. "Can we just get back to work?"

"Fine," Fred sighed. "Be that way." She took the empty containers and dumped them. Then she settled down and started to go through book after book with him. Several times she caught him rubbing his hand over his face and squinting at the words but she didn't say anything. She knew that he didn't want to talk about it, she would make him later but not now.

Finally after a few hours Angel ducked his head in and said hello to her, but not to Wesley. Wesley tried but Angel just ignored him. "At least he didn't try to kill you that time," Fred gave him a weak smile.

"We can be thankful for that," Wesley sighed and then picked up another book.

Fred sighed and closed her book. "I think we need new books or something," she reached for another one. "I am not finding anything. Just stuff that we already know."

"We just have to keep looking that's all," Wesley started to skim. "If we have to go through ever book that we can get our hands on then we will. And if that doesn't work then I'll put a call into the Watcher's Council."

"How is that going to help," Fred rolled her neck a bit. "They don't like you and you aren't a member."

"They will have to," Wesley sighed. "Connor is a key player for The Powers That Be and the Council works for the Powers."

"You are going to hold that over their heads," Fred looked at him. "That doesn't seem like leverage to me."

Wesley did not look up he kept skimming. "If I have to I will bribe them, beat them, anything, so long as they help."

"Wes," She warned him. "That is not going to help things, and you know it."

"Yes," he nodded. "But it will make me fell better. Besides I always thought that Quinten Travers would look better with a hole in his shoulder."

"That is awful," Fred grimaced. "I might just have to make a transatlantic phone call to the Scotland Yard and tell them to keep an eye out for you."

"Scotland Yard," Wesley chuckled. Then he dropped his book. "Scotland Yard, of course!" He picked up the phone and started to dial.

"Wesley, what are you doing?" Fred moved and hung up the phone. "You can't just call Scotland Yard. First of all, Gunn'll kill ya for making a transatlantic phone call for no reason. Secondly, what does Scotland Yard have to do with Connor?"

"Nothing," Wesley shoved her hand of the phone. "They have nothing to do with Connor, and I have a calling card. Now would you please leave me alone for a second?"

Fred shook her head. "No," she stated flatly. "Something is going on Wesley and you need to tell me what it is. You don't want things to turn out like they did last time." As soon as she said it, she regretted it. "Oh Wesley," she gave him a sad look. "I didn't mean it like that. Honest. I just meant, well I just meant. Wesley it's just that." She paused and took a breath. "After last time they don't want you to keep things from us anymore, you aren't the boss so you don't have that privilege, I am sorry Wesley, it wasn't my idea, but in a way they are right, now is not a the time to be shutting us out."

Wesley put the phone down and sunk into the chair. "You do realize that I will still make the phone call when I get home," he didn't look at her.

"Yes," she nodded. "But I am hoping that you will let me be there, to help you."

"I don't think that Gunn would like that very much," he forced a smile and tried to lighten the mood.

"I don't care," Fred sat back down. "He doesn't own me. I am my own person and I can do what I like."

Wesley chuckled. "Try saying it with more conviction next time."

"You are terrible!" She moved to swat him and then stopped. "I am just going to ignore you for the rest of the day. And that's that."

"Alright then," Wesley laughed again and picked up the book he dropped and started to go through it again. He could feel her looking at him sometimes and hear her huff every now and then but he kept silent and so did she.

***

"Dinner," Fred called out around quarter to five later that evening.

"What," Wesley looked up from his book. "Hey I thought you weren't talking to me for the rest of the day."

"The day finished at four-thirty this afternoon cause we started work at eight," she put her book down. "Now you are going to take me out to dinner, because I am hungry and you owe me for making fun of me."

"Fine," he pretended to sigh but then laughed. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere but Chinatown."

"Sounds good," he stood up and let her walk in front of him. "Chinese food twice in one day is a bit much."

"That's for sure," Fred nodded and stopped just before she ran into Cordelia. "Hey Cordy," she smiled. "Haven't seen you all day."

"I've been busy," Cordelia didn't look at her.

Fred nodded and said with a little wonderment, "Oh." Then she gave Wesley a look. "With what? Washing your hair?"

Cordelia whipped her head around and looked at Fred's smirk. "How dare you!"

Fred was about to make a very nasty remark but someone came through the door. It was a young man and he was dressed in uniform that made him look like he was from some state mental ward. "Excuse me," he gave everyone a confused look. "I am looking for Wesley Wyndham-Pryce."

"Um," Wesley spoke up. "That's me."

"Good," the man sighed. "We found you. I was starting to worry. Tell me sir," he reached from something in his pocket. "Does this belong to you?"

Wesley stared for a moment. Hanging from a thin gold chain was his old signet ring. At first he did not believe it and looked at it more closely but his second look made it clear to him. Carefully he stepped closer to the where the man was dangling the ring, as if he was afraid that it would disappear. He slowly reached out his hand and touched it. "Where did you get this," he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"From someone I am hoping that you will know," the man handed over the ring. Then he pulled open the hotel door. "Hey Luke," he yelled. "Bring her in, the ring is his."

Fred and Cordelia moved closer to Wesley and watched as another man dressed in a similar uniform. He was leading a young woman dressed in old clothes whose head was bent over and covered by a mass of thick brown slightly curled hair.

"Come on now then Jane," the man spoke softly. "Just through the doors and you can stop."

"Jane?" Wesley asked him. "I am sorry I don't know any Jane."

"Well I don't think her name is really Jane," Luke said as he pushed back her hair from her face. "The truth is we don't know who she is and we were hoping you could tell us."

Wesley was frozen. He couldn't speak. There standing before him was someone who looked so familiar, but it couldn't be. She was supposed to be dead.

The policeman's voice from twenty years ago went through his head again, 'I am sorry sir. We just cannot find the body.'

But there she was, or at least someone that looked like her. Standing there right in front of him. She was so changed though. Her eyes were hallowed and she looked very pale. There was no smile on her face, no glimmer of the happy girl that she once had been. It was like she was just a shell of a human being.

Finally he stepped foreword and reached out to touch her. "Annette," he asked softly. "Is that you?"

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