Fred

He’s upstairs. I hope he’s all right. I mean, it had to be kind of uncomfortable for him— Angel glowering at him like a big batch of light-treated zinc sulfide, Wes asking him question after question, and him there, just trying to get used to being alive.

He looks like he should be sitting next to Wes doing research, or between Knox and me, doing experiments. Not like the monster Angel told us about after Spike went up to bed. When he was talking about how awful Spike was, I couldn’t help thinking about Angelus, and the things he said to me. When he threatened to—anyway, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. But I couldn’t imagine Spike saying those things. Only Angel.

Angelus. I mean Angelus.

Spike doesn’t seem anything like Angelus. Actually, he kind of reminds me of Wesley. Shy, and sweet, and smart. He was squinting; I think he might need glasses. Tomorrow I’ll take him to that eye place in the mall, and maybe we can stop by Wesley’s on the way to get some different clothes for Spike. The things he’s in now really don’t fit at all, and I don’t think anything Charles or Angel has would fit him. Or Lorne, of course, but I doubt Spike wants to go to the mall dressed in Lorne’s clothes anyway. Oh, and shoes. He needs shoes.

Now that I think about it, he kind of reminds me of Knox, too. I mean, he’s not funny like Knox, and he probably doesn’t know that much about physics, or at least not most of the post-Newtonian things, like quantum physics and Feynman’s theory of—well, you know. Vampire, not really the kind of thing they keep up with.

But anyway, what I mean about Knox is, they get these cute looks on their faces when they’re thinking. Sometimes when we’re working late Knox will be screwing up his face and I’ll be chewing my hair, and we’ll just look at each other and start laughing. We’re both such spazzes.

I don’t have to work late, really. But Wes usually does and it’s depressing, being in the hotel all by myself. Angel keeps those night hours, and Cordy’s still in a coma, and Lorne’s doing god knows what with god knows who, and Gunn … well, sometimes he’s there, but I’m still not really comfortable being alone with him. Not because he’d say anything; it’s just that sometimes I feel bad for becoming involved with Wes so soon after we broke up. It’s not that I think he’s still in love with me or anything, except … well, maybe that is what I mean. I don’t think he’s moving on the way he should.

Believe me, I know about not moving on. Every day Lilah’s there at Wolfram and Hart, a different expensive-looking scarf or choker or whatever hiding the mark Wesley put across her neck. But sometimes she wears something low-cut, with no jewelry or scarf, and it’s like she’s showing off the scar instead. When she first appeared at the hotel to suggest we join Wolfram and Hart, she pulled the material away from her throat and said that Wes had done it to keep her from becoming her from becoming a vampire. To protect her.

It’s like it’s his mark on her, and sometimes she likes to show it off. Like she’s reminding everyone who put it there.

I suppose I could just go home and leave Wes there with his books and, well, her, but staying late is fine. I mean, I don’t think anything’s happening, but it’s so easy to become involved with someone you work with. I mean, look at me and Wes, and me and Charles—but I’m really not worried. Besides, I love my work; it’s what I’ve always dreamed of.

I wonder if Knox remembered to get the menu from that new Thai place yet. If not, we can call the barbecue place again tomorrow, or just get Chinese takeout. They do this great duck thing, but you have to order it a day in advance.

Maybe I should call him and ask. Then Wes and I should probably go up ourselves; we’ve got a long day tomorrow, since we missed work today.

You know, when weird things happen, like today? I’m really glad I have him.