Acknowledgments: It’s all Misty’s fault, even though she probably had no idea who I was when I wrote this. *g* Thanks to Deb, Christina and Medie for encouraging me.

She’d needed the release, just as he anticipated. It was a more confident and even more driven Faith who climbed back into the car beside him. One who was beginning to learn how to be the Slayer without being a killer. And to his surprise, he was as proud of her in that moment as Giles must’ve been long ago of Buffy. Even though his brief tenure as her Watcher had little, if anything, to do with who she was today. It was rather more likely that he had contributed to her undoing instead of her redemption.

He certainly hadn’t taken the high road when she’d had him at her mercy three years ago. Anger, hate, guilt and shame had got the better of him, as they so often did. And the bitterness had lingered long after the knife fell from his hands, long after he told Angel he knew he’d done the right thing by giving Faith the chance for redemption she so desperately craved.

Sometimes he thought he’d never truly been rid of it until he’d realized she was their only chance to save Angel.

Mind-reading was not one of the Slayer’s powers, but it might as well have been with the next shaky words out of Faith’s mouth:

“I never did get around to apologizing to you, did I, Wes?”

It wasn’t the words themselves that surprised him so much he almost lost control of the car. It was the hesitant, nervous tone of them. Faith, afraid. Of him. Or rather, of the cosmic debt he supposed she thought she owed him.

His silence made her discomfort seem to grow. Now she was almost babbling, again something he never thought to hear from Faith.

“I won’t make excuses because there is no excuse for what I did to you–I mean, hell, if I’d been a normal sicko I would’ve made my desperate plea for attention or help or whatever by cutting myself up, not someone else. But…God…I really am sorry, Wes. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know.” Maybe he hadn’t before that moment, but as the words passed his lips they became true. “And I’m sorry too.”

The look on Faith’s face was as surprised as he had been just a moment ago. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been expecting an apology. “For what?”

He struggled for a moment, fixing his eyes on the road in vain hope of avoiding the truth of what he really was apologizing for. The reason he usually didn’t apologize–because he feared if he started, he’d never stop. But truth was a hard thing to avoid these days, with Angelus loose and eager to twist the knife of failure in the belly of his alter ego’s friends.

“For failing you. As your Watcher. If I had just–“

“You didn’t fail me. I failed me.” Her look was frank, self-aware in a way most people weren’t–himself included. “By the time you came along, you could’ve been Winston fucking Churchill and I wouldn’t have heard a word you said.”

“Then for being one of the people in your life who did give up on you.” Because he had. He, her Watcher, who should’ve been the last person in the world to ever leave her side or lose hope, had betrayed her by doing just that.

The smile that touched her lips was weak, self-deprecating, and far less self-aware. “Hey, you’re here now and that’s all that matters, right?”

A very big part of him wanted to grab hold of the loophole she’d offered him but a bigger part needed to be the Watcher–the man–he’d failed to be before.

“No, it isn’t. I had no right to lose faith in you–if you’ll forgive the pun–as your Watcher…I owed you better than that.”

“Forgiven.” This smile was genuine, and for a moment he almost thought he saw the sparkle of held back tears in her dark eyes. But no–this was Faith. She didn’t cry that easily. “The pun, all of it. Thanks.”

A blessedly sweet silence descended on the car, an absence of sound that wasn’t heavy with words unsaid.

Faith watched him with more than her eyes. “Wow. You look like you needed that as much as I did.”

The thought surprised him, but testing his heart he found everything weighing it down felt just a little lighter. Even Lilah and Connor. And the wonder of that crept into his voice too.

“Yes…I suppose I did.”

“Hey, are you okay? ‘Cause I meant what I said about you looking good, but you don’t seem happy.”

That earned her a short, bitter laugh. He’d almost forgotten the meaning of that word, happy, if he ever knew it. “I’ve made some…bad decisions recently. Some merely unwise…others unforgiveable.”

“Hey.” She touched his arm, forcing him to look at her as they slowed down for a light. “You and me…the fact that we’re sitting here right now having this conversation is proof positive that nothing is unforgivable. But you’ll never know if you never ask.”

Was it the time in prison that had made her this wise, or was it Angel’s faith in her?

“You’re right. Thank you.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” she quipped. Then her eyes turned serious again and the look she turned on him was once again tentative, almost fearful. “We are…gonna be friends now, right?”

Looking at her, at the hope in her eyes, Wes felt several things fall into place, not all of them pleasant. He understood now, maybe for the first time, what it really meant to be a Watcher. He understood that he would retract the forgiveness he’d just given her if it meant her survival. That he would use the only real weapon he had against her–the hurtful power of words–to drive her back into the shell she was breaking, transform her back into the creature she was trying so hard to leave behind, if it would make her hard enough for the task that lay before her. And he knew that he wouldn’t feel the least regret for doing so. That he would rather lose the tenuous bond they were building than fail her again, fatally this time.

But for now…for this moment, it hadn’t come to that. And if Fate was kind, perhaps for once it wouldn’t.

So, were they going to be friends, as they should have been all along?

He smiled wistfully. “I certainly hope so.”