frag·ments

"I don't want a fucking soul, Miss Rosenburg. What I want, quite frankly, is to turn you into an appetizer and your little girlfriend into dessert."

Willow rolled her eyes, mixing some ingredients in a stone bowl. "Yeah? And what's for supper?"

"Watcher. They say it's the other red meat," Wes said, eyeing Andrew appraisingly. "By the smell of him, a virgin, too. Maybe Angel and I can play with him a while before I finish him off."

Andrew whimpered. "Angel wouldn't do that!" he said doubtfully. "He's a champion, like Spike!"

"He's one good fuck away from being as deliciously murderous as he ever was," Wesley smirked. "I could break these chains quite easily, Miss Rosenburg."

"Mm," she agreed. "Yeah, if we hadn't given you enough tranqs to fell an overweight elephant."

Wesley's eyes went to Angel and Connor, with an accusing glare. "Traitors," he grumbled. Now that she mentioned it, his limbs did feel rather leaden, and his eyelids began to droop.

~*~

"Guys, you can let me go," Angel insisted. "I just want to see how they're doing in there, that's all." He winced when he heard Wesley's agonized scream.

"Not a chance, Dad," Connor said, shaking his head. "If you go in there, it'll be a lot worse for him."

"Oh." Angel looked anxious. "How can it be worse? What the hell are Willow and Andrew doing to him in there?"

"They're taking out the fragments of your soul that are stuck in him," Kennedy said patiently from her perch on Angel's stomach. He was chained down, but one couldn't be too careful. "Some of them are buried deep. If they don't, though, they can't give him a soul of his own."

Angel was doubtful. It sounded like a whole lot of speculation and mumbo jumbo to him. If part of his soul was in Wes, shouldn't that be a good thing? "Couldn't we share?" he asked. Anything to end Wesley's obvious pain - pain he could almost feel himself.

Kennedy gave Angel a Look; why was it that women all shared that ability? Suddenly she said, "It's too quiet."

"Maybe the hard part is over," Connor suggested.

"Maybe it's just starting," Angel said, concern marring his features.

~*~

Willow awoke to see Kennedy standing over her, a look of relief on her face. "Baby, I wasn't sure you were gonna wake up," the slayer admitted. "He clocked you a good one."

"Andrew?" Willow asked weakly.

Connor laughed. "He needed a change of pants but he'll be okay."

"You said you wouldn't tell!" Andrew protested.

"We've got other things to worry about," Kennedy pointed out. "Like how he managed to break free with all those drugs in his system."

"That's the understatement of the century," Angel said, uncrossing his arms to put on his black duster. "Wesley has the potential to be more of a sick fuck than Angelus ever was; I've got to get to him, and fast."

~*~

Wesley surveyed the dank motel room; it was filthy, and it reeked of the bitch laying dead on the bathroom floor, but it was paid up for the week. It would do. He knew Angel would come for him, knew that Willow would awaken and attempt the ensouling spell, knew he was one hell of an actor when he wanted to be. When Angel came, he would play innocent, even horrified at his own actions, lure him to bed, and break his curse once and for all. Together, they would own L.A. - maybe the world.

His teeth and stomach ached with regret at having left that young Watcher alive and untouched. His fear had felt so delicious and intoxicating, radiating off his body in waves. That would come later, he supposed. All he had to do was bide his time.