Starring:
Summary:
Wesley manages to get Fred to stay and talk for more than a few seconds.
Date It Happened: November 27th, 2001
String Theory
Hyperion Hotel - Lobby
Back to normal, things are. Depending upon one's definition of normal that is. Instead of being in his office, Wesley is stationed behind the desk in the lobby, sorting through messages.. possible jobs and leads. Essentially looking busy in between working a case and researching the latest goings on. Every so often, his gaze is cast upwards from the lobby to the landings above, as if watching for someone.
When Fred isn't up in her room or getting someone to get her tacos, she's hiding somewhere else. Sometimes it's as simple as sticking her nose in a book until her whole face is gone and traveling around like that. This is what she's doing today. Slowly, so she doesn't trip and fall down the stairs and break her neck, she comes down the stairs hoping that there's no one around so she can dash out into the garden without having to talk to anyone.
Wesley smiles a little, seeing Fred emerge from her 'cave'. He thinks better of greeting her so that she doesn't startle and possibly hurt herself on the stairs. Patiently, he waits for her to reach the bottom before clearing his throat a little. "Good afternoon Fred," he says as if talking to a skittish animal.
A skittish animal is exactly what Fred is. When Wesley greets her, she peeks out from behind her book before quickly hiding her face again. "Oh! I didn't now there was anyone out here! I'm sorry, I'll get out of your way, then." Whirling on her heel, she attempts to make a hasty retreat to the stairs again.
"No, no," Wesley says as he comes out from behind the counter, moving carefully so as to not appear threatening. (As if.) "Stay? Please. You aren't in the way." He glances to the book in Fred's hands, getting a glimpse of the title, and for the sake of trying to engage her in conversation, asks, "What is that you're reading?"
The book is a hardcover black book with multi-colored bands that criss-cross each other across it. "O-oh?" Fred's not sure how she feels about not being in the way and staying and talking, she hasn't really been doing much of that since she got back. "It's called String Theory?" Why is everything she's saying sound like a question? "It's all about how this guy thinks that all particles and realities vibrate on strings, making everything connected. Of course, we all know that's not true since you don't get to other hell dimensions through strings!" There's a bit of a nervous laugh.
Wesley makes sure to keep his distance from Fred. Not getting too close, but not too far. Hopefully, the gap can be lessened in time. "Really?" he says with a smile. "I've found it quite fascinating myself.. If you like that, you're more than welcome to the library I have in my office. There should be many more books that might interest you." He tries to skirt the topic of getting to and from Hell dimensions. But, seeing as this is Wesley, he's bound to put his foot in it sooner or later. "They're not actual strings the author is referring to. Invisible, intangible, but still there. We are all connected. If that weren't true, we would not have found you."
"Really?" Maybe that's where this book came from. Fred never asked where the books came from that she's been reading to keep herself occupied. "Oh, I know that, silly. If everything were literally strings, we'd never be able to walk anywhere! It'd be like we're all trapped in a giant ball of yarn, and unless there's some great big old knitting God out there, we'd be all connected but unable to move anywhere." As for them finding her, her nervous laughter is almost immediately turned off. She pulls the book closer to her body and kind of rests her chin on the top of it. They saved her from the monsters, eyes downcast in thought.
Wesley slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks and smiles a little at Fred's words. "Precisely, not to mention the cats it would attract." So it was sooner than later for him to say the wrong thing. Or maybe the right thing, just a bad reaction. Mentally, he kicks himself a little. "Would you like something to drink?" There. Can't go wrong with that offer. "Perhaps tea, or a soda?"
Whether Wesley made a trip up of words or not is up for debate. It's really not his fault, but Fred can't help be have her thoughts trail back to that horrible place. The offer of soda or tea makes her glance upwards again, blinking as if she had just stepped into harsh lighting. "Soda? They never had any Coke in Pylea. Nothing really bubbly was ever there. Sometimes I'd just kind of blow into my water to make it bubbly, but it wasn't really the same."
No one can blame Fred for the horrors in her head. Which is why Wesley is trying to take it easy around her. Make her feel welcome. Making Fred feel safe is more Angel's department, seeing as he's the champion. "Very well then, a soda it is!" He smiles at the woman, rocks back slightly on his heels before retreating to his office and the mini-fridge. Two cans of Sprite are withdrawn, one for him and one he holds out for Fred to take. "Blowing into one's water is a rather poor substitute for the real thing."
"Don't I know it." Fred tentatively reaches a hand out from where it's grasped around her book and takes the can of Sprite. "Never stays bubbly when you want to drink it." It's true, Angel is really the one that makes Fred feel completely safe just with his presence. The others, well, they're trying. Edging forward so that she can rest her soda down on the front counter along with her book, she kind of studies it before popping the top. The sound makes her giggle a little and put a hand up to her mouth. It's like getting to have tacos all over again.
Wesley moves to stand back behind the lobby counter, putting that distance back so as to hopefully let Fred feel a little more comfortable. "I can only imagine," he says without a trace of sarcasm. "Here, would you like to open mine as well?" he slides his own can of Sprite across, after seeing how just popping open the can makes Fred giggle.
It's like relearning things she's only dreamed about for five years, when she thought this world was just some sort of place her head made up. Fred should perhaps feel like she's being patronized by being given Wesley's drink to open, too, but she can't help it. These are the things she missed that are every day life here. Taking the can, she pops the top, the giggling less pronounced, but still happy before she hands it back. "Sorry. I know this sort of thing shouldn't make me all googly. You all probably wonder what you're doing with this crazy lady who just took over one of the rooms upstairs and reads about String Theory all day."
"No, it's quite alright." Wesley says, taking the can back and smiling gently. "Your enjoyment of the simple things puts a fresh perspective on life, you might say." Sort of reminds one of daily routines that are taken for granted. He picks up his can and a stack of papers from the desk, "I'll be in my office." There's a brief pause and then he says kindly, "You don't have to hide from us, or feel that you are in our way. You're more than welcome to wander as you like and to help yourself to the books."