da·mage·con·trol

"I hope she's strong enough to make it," Wes said softly. "Peace is not an easy thing to find."

"She has a chance."

Wesley nodded. "Let's go."

They were halfway back to the office when Angel finally gathered the nerve to stop drumming on the steering wheel anxiously and ask, "What about us? Do we have a chance?"

"What about us?" Wes asked cautiously, never taking his eyes off the road. "Did I miss something between the police station and here?"

Angel shook his head. "I guess not."

Silence hung uncomfortably between them.

"Wes -" Angel started. "Before Faith came to town, you and I, we were - what were we?"

"Colleagues," Wes said, his voice strained. "Perhaps friends."

"Nothing more?" Wesley didn't dare to dream that Angel sounded hopeful as he asked this.

"Certainly nothing less. Is this going somewhere?" Wesley knew exactly where this was going. The 'it's not you, it's me, but let's always be friends' route.

Angel was quiet while he chose his words. "I'm bad at relationships."

"I'd noticed." Here it comes. I'm bad at relationships, I'd only end up hurting you.

"Wes, you and I - there's something that's - are you okay?" They'd made it to the office; Angel parked the car in his customary spot and turned to look at Wesley.

Stiff upper lip, Wesley reminded himself. "I'll mend."

Angel nodded, reached over as though he wanted to touch Wes, hesitated. "Are we okay?"

Well, that was the question, wasn't it? "Angel, what do you want me to tell you?"

"Tell me we're okay," Angel said in a small voice. "Wes, I -" He leaned over, and suddenly Wesley's world came down to a pair of lips, pressed against his own, a cool tongue tasting him, testing him.

Wes pulled away first. "I'm very tired, Angel. I'd like to go to bed now." Wesley never liked goodbye kisses; they always felt so final.

"You'll be back? In the morning?"

Wesley nodded. Glutton for punishment, me, he thought. "Until then," he said, forcing a smile.

"You're bleeding," Angel said, grabbing his arm before he could get out of the car. "Come in, let me patch you up."

"Angel -"

"Please?" No matter how much Wesley wanted to say no to Angel, he just couldn't.

"I can only stay a moment," Wes said, allowing Angel to lead him into the office and down to his apartment.

Angel assessed the wounds Faith had inflicted, cleaning each cut, caressing each bruise with a lover's touch, but Wesley knew he was only cataloguing his sins. When Angel's lips met his again, he found the courage to push him away. "Wes..."

"No, Angel. I don't want your pity, and I sure as hell don't want to be your penance."

Angel made a small sound, like a wounded bird, and asked, "Are we -"

"Yes, for gods' sake, we're still okay," Wes snapped, struggling to put his shirt back on despite the fact that his right arm was still half-numb. "I'll see you in the morning, Angel, and this? Whatever it was? Never happened."