TITLE: Honestly Speaking
AUTHOR: Ragna (writinggoddess@aol.com)
RATING: FRT
CLASSIFICATION: Wesley/Lilah, Wesley "conversation" piece.
SUMMARY: Even though she's gone, Wesley still wonders why...
SPOILERS: Takes place in the not-so-distant future of A:tS season 5, presumably while Wesley's in England. Spoils the latter half of season 4.
DISTRIBUTION: Any sites with my fic up; you all have unspoken permission. I write it, you can post it. Everyone else just keep my name on it and let me know.
DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, I don't own it. Joss Whedon, Kazui Sandollar, The WB, UPN, et. al. most likely do.
FEEDBACK: Please send it offlist and let me know it's feedback; I do rapid delete on my account due to a lot of spam.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: The ship for this story was chosen more-or-less by the people at Sunnydale Writers. I think we had Spike/Buffy, Angel/Darla and Coredelia/Xander as choices as well (plus a very interesting off the wall idea of Giles/Walsh which I may pursue at another point and time...), but it all boiled down to one I've never tried before.

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It's the times when I'm alone that I think about you. I mean, I think about us, and why, and what the attraction held. But mainly I think about you.

You asked for it. Not your death, I know that much. And making sure you were really dead and not undead....that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, if I'm trying to be honest and truthful with myself. And I am.

I almost killed my father. It was between killing him and letting him kill Fred. You knew how much I loved Fred, even when you and I were together, after the sex and whatever else our twisted relationship held. Never did give you much credit for your intelligence.

I should never have let you be killed, to be quite honest, even if there were times I despised seeing your face when I turned to the side of my bed and looked around at what my life had become. I blamed you, personally, for some of it. You never took it personally.

And, God, did I hate you. At those times, when I felt you were the cause of all my misfortune, I wanted to do nothing more than suffocate your peaceful looking face while you were sleeping, or wrap my hands around your throat and never let go.

But if I want to be truly honest, and that is my goal with this whole rambling message towards...not towards the Heavens, because we both know you're trapped within that bloody law firm, somewhere where I can't find you...

If I want to be truly and maddeningly honest, in some sick and twisted way, I loved you. I cared for you, and I was sickened by what happened to you.

And that, Lilah, is why I still think about you when I'm alone.

Before, when I said you asked for it...you asked for me to love you. Beneath the things that repulsed me at times, and even repulsed you at times, there was something there that I felt a connection with. Something sad and alone.

What we had may have been disturbing, but...there was a reason for it.

Because, I honestly think, you asked for it.