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When I was writing for the recent flashficathon, this was something that I started for the G/W/S one that got abandoned as it was going to be too long. Might carry it on when Preying is done (in the middle of Chapter Six which should have a vowel changed if this were Scrabble, heh, heh). Anyway, as the thought of any of my deathless prose being scattered like petals on the desert air disturbs me and makes me cry, here it is. Shopping list follows shortly. (This is obviously unbeta'd btw.)
Watching You, Wanting You
Giles sank onto the couch and took a long, slow swallow of whisky. It might not cure the world’s ills but it was making him feel better. His mouth was still experiencing the pleasant tingle from a malt blended to perfection when a knock at the door shattered the illusion of peace.
Giles swore under his breath and pulled himself up wearily. No one he knew ever bothered to knock which meant that it was someone he didn’t want to see. At least he could rule out a demon. Like the Scoobies, they tended toward the ‘mi casa es su casa’ approach. For the first time that evening, but not the last, Giles was wrong.
“Wesley? Good Lord! What brings you here? Please, come in.”
His former colleague smiled. “Forgotten the first rule, Giles?”
Giles raised an eyebrow and then smiled back as he took Wesley’s meaning. “Good rule but if you turn your head – yes, there. You show up nicely in the mirror I hung to reflect the doorway.”
Wesley nodded, pleased that the first awkward moments had been smoothed over so easily. Giles showed him to a seat, poured him a glass of single malt and sat down with an expectant look.
Wesley sipped appreciatively and then began to speak, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in the glass he held. “I haven’t seen you for a while, have I?”
“No. You left Sunnydale as soon as the hospital released you. I was a little – surprised that you didn’t stop by to make your farewells.”
Wesley looked over at him. “You were? I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. I made such a bloody mess of things from start to finish that I’m afraid I ended my time here as I began it – by taking the easy way out.”
Giles frowned, his eyes sharp as he studied Wesley. “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. We didn’t get off to a good start and you made some spectacular mistakes but –”
Wesley grimaced. “Please. Don’t remind me.”
“But you came through in the end,” Giles finished. “You fought beside the Slayer in one of her more epic battles and acquitted yourself –”
His voice trailed off and Wesley smiled bitterly. “Cordelia killed more vampires than I did.”
“She only staked one...oh.”
“It doesn’t matter, Giles. I haven’t come here for reassurance.”
“Bloody good job. I’ve got enough on my hands right now,” Giles said bluntly. “Besides, from what I gather, you’re being of considerable assistance to Angel.”
Wesley’s shoulders straightened. “Yes, I think if you leave off the adjective that’s a fair and accurate description.”
Their eyes met and the tension dissipated in a shared smile. “Still brooding, is he?”
“Oh, my, yes.”
Giles picked up the bottle and walked over to refresh Wesley’s drink. Wes glanced up with a nod of thanks and Giles felt a tug of affection that startled him with its intensity. Wes was so like what he had been, could have been, might have been. Watching him change and grow had been fascinating. Having him leave so abruptly had hurt him more than he cared to admit, but that had been drowned in the greater hurt of finding himself sidelined and unemployed. Wesley was still fighting. He’d virtually retired. Fighting back the urge to sit down on the chair beside Wes, he retreated to the couch.
“You know, this whiskey is a real treat but I am driving –”
“No; you must stop the night. Really. It’s no trouble.”
Wesley smiled. “Thank you. I won’t even pretend that I didn’t hope you’d say that. However, I’d still like to beg for a cup of tea. I know you’ll be able to make a proper pot, unlike these revoltingly soggy teabags on strings they give you over here.”
Giles laughed. “Of course. I’ll go and put the kettle on.”
Over the rush of water he heard Wes call out but it wasn’t until he’d turned off the tap that the words registered. When they did he groaned and turned but it was too late. By the time he reached the bathroom Spike already had Wes against the ropes.
“You scream like a –”
“Finish that sentence and I dust you where you lie, vampire!”
“Like a Ragnith demon.”
“Ah. Fair enough. Known for their fierce, warrior like battle cries aren’t they?”
“No. Everyone agrees they scream like girls.”
“Why, you!”
Giles sighed and Wesley whirled around, his eyes flashing indignantly. “You have a vampire chained in your bath tub!” Giles’ expression was sufficient to make him flush. “Well, yes, I suppose that’s not exactly news, is it. But you have to admit it’s unusual.”
“It’s a bloody pain in the arse,” Giles said, giving Spike a look of resigned loathing. “However, there are excellent reasons for it, even though they escape me on an hourly basis, so I’d be grateful – God, it hurts to say it – if you didn’t stake Spike. We need him.”
Spike smirked, his eyes going between the two men with a speculative gleam. “Going to introduce us, Rupert? And am I included in the bevvies? I’ll take whatever’s going in a nice warm mug of blood. Spiked blood. Ha. Get it?”
Giles cast his eyes up in despair. “Blood, yes. My alcohol, no. Wesley, this is Spike. Spike this is Wesley. I think you’ve both heard about each other so that should suffice.”
He turned to leave and was stopped by Wesley’s hand on his arm. “Giles, I really need to pee – and well, I don’t need an audience. Does he stay in there all the time?”
“Oh, yes.” Spike said, a wide smile on his face. “All the time. Shocking really what the Watcher gets up to with his rubber duck.”
“Spike, don’t push it.” Giles gave Wesley a rather impatient look. “He has a chair I use when I need to shower but it’s a real performance getting the chains undone. Are you sure you can’t – oh, never mind. Spike, you get to come out but you’re going right back in, understand?”
“After my blood,” Spike said firmly. “Need to stretch my legs as well.”
Watching You, Wanting You
Giles sank onto the couch and took a long, slow swallow of whisky. It might not cure the world’s ills but it was making him feel better. His mouth was still experiencing the pleasant tingle from a malt blended to perfection when a knock at the door shattered the illusion of peace.
Giles swore under his breath and pulled himself up wearily. No one he knew ever bothered to knock which meant that it was someone he didn’t want to see. At least he could rule out a demon. Like the Scoobies, they tended toward the ‘mi casa es su casa’ approach. For the first time that evening, but not the last, Giles was wrong.
“Wesley? Good Lord! What brings you here? Please, come in.”
His former colleague smiled. “Forgotten the first rule, Giles?”
Giles raised an eyebrow and then smiled back as he took Wesley’s meaning. “Good rule but if you turn your head – yes, there. You show up nicely in the mirror I hung to reflect the doorway.”
Wesley nodded, pleased that the first awkward moments had been smoothed over so easily. Giles showed him to a seat, poured him a glass of single malt and sat down with an expectant look.
Wesley sipped appreciatively and then began to speak, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in the glass he held. “I haven’t seen you for a while, have I?”
“No. You left Sunnydale as soon as the hospital released you. I was a little – surprised that you didn’t stop by to make your farewells.”
Wesley looked over at him. “You were? I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. I made such a bloody mess of things from start to finish that I’m afraid I ended my time here as I began it – by taking the easy way out.”
Giles frowned, his eyes sharp as he studied Wesley. “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. We didn’t get off to a good start and you made some spectacular mistakes but –”
Wesley grimaced. “Please. Don’t remind me.”
“But you came through in the end,” Giles finished. “You fought beside the Slayer in one of her more epic battles and acquitted yourself –”
His voice trailed off and Wesley smiled bitterly. “Cordelia killed more vampires than I did.”
“She only staked one...oh.”
“It doesn’t matter, Giles. I haven’t come here for reassurance.”
“Bloody good job. I’ve got enough on my hands right now,” Giles said bluntly. “Besides, from what I gather, you’re being of considerable assistance to Angel.”
Wesley’s shoulders straightened. “Yes, I think if you leave off the adjective that’s a fair and accurate description.”
Their eyes met and the tension dissipated in a shared smile. “Still brooding, is he?”
“Oh, my, yes.”
Giles picked up the bottle and walked over to refresh Wesley’s drink. Wes glanced up with a nod of thanks and Giles felt a tug of affection that startled him with its intensity. Wes was so like what he had been, could have been, might have been. Watching him change and grow had been fascinating. Having him leave so abruptly had hurt him more than he cared to admit, but that had been drowned in the greater hurt of finding himself sidelined and unemployed. Wesley was still fighting. He’d virtually retired. Fighting back the urge to sit down on the chair beside Wes, he retreated to the couch.
“You know, this whiskey is a real treat but I am driving –”
“No; you must stop the night. Really. It’s no trouble.”
Wesley smiled. “Thank you. I won’t even pretend that I didn’t hope you’d say that. However, I’d still like to beg for a cup of tea. I know you’ll be able to make a proper pot, unlike these revoltingly soggy teabags on strings they give you over here.”
Giles laughed. “Of course. I’ll go and put the kettle on.”
Over the rush of water he heard Wes call out but it wasn’t until he’d turned off the tap that the words registered. When they did he groaned and turned but it was too late. By the time he reached the bathroom Spike already had Wes against the ropes.
“You scream like a –”
“Finish that sentence and I dust you where you lie, vampire!”
“Like a Ragnith demon.”
“Ah. Fair enough. Known for their fierce, warrior like battle cries aren’t they?”
“No. Everyone agrees they scream like girls.”
“Why, you!”
Giles sighed and Wesley whirled around, his eyes flashing indignantly. “You have a vampire chained in your bath tub!” Giles’ expression was sufficient to make him flush. “Well, yes, I suppose that’s not exactly news, is it. But you have to admit it’s unusual.”
“It’s a bloody pain in the arse,” Giles said, giving Spike a look of resigned loathing. “However, there are excellent reasons for it, even though they escape me on an hourly basis, so I’d be grateful – God, it hurts to say it – if you didn’t stake Spike. We need him.”
Spike smirked, his eyes going between the two men with a speculative gleam. “Going to introduce us, Rupert? And am I included in the bevvies? I’ll take whatever’s going in a nice warm mug of blood. Spiked blood. Ha. Get it?”
Giles cast his eyes up in despair. “Blood, yes. My alcohol, no. Wesley, this is Spike. Spike this is Wesley. I think you’ve both heard about each other so that should suffice.”
He turned to leave and was stopped by Wesley’s hand on his arm. “Giles, I really need to pee – and well, I don’t need an audience. Does he stay in there all the time?”
“Oh, yes.” Spike said, a wide smile on his face. “All the time. Shocking really what the Watcher gets up to with his rubber duck.”
“Spike, don’t push it.” Giles gave Wesley a rather impatient look. “He has a chair I use when I need to shower but it’s a real performance getting the chains undone. Are you sure you can’t – oh, never mind. Spike, you get to come out but you’re going right back in, understand?”
“After my blood,” Spike said firmly. “Need to stretch my legs as well.”