A dim light outlined two figures, one sitting, one standing, in the genteel lounge of the Council guest quarters. The current guests, in leather and attitude, clashed horribly with the decor
( ... )
Angel didn't want to leave his room. It was nice, quiet, plenty of time to himself, to think. The nurses didn't bother him except to change his IV. Of course, once he'd begun to be able to move around more and had requested to be able to eat as he normally did, they'd simply brought a mini-fridge and a microwave into his room
( ... )
Giles spent more time than he'd like at the Council's headquarters. It wasn't that he didn't want to be there to explain things, as much as he could. Nor did he even think of shirking his duties, or letting down his Slayers. In fact, when he was working with them, the thought of being elsewhere all but retreated
( ... )
Wesley's days became a rather pleasant routine. Breakfast with Rupert, which usually involved stolen kisses, the feel of those wonderfully calloused hands against his face, lips . . . Then Rupert would have to leave and Wes would turn his mind to the research, the books that Rupert brought him in an attempt to keep him from becoming bored to tears
( ... )
Spike stalked down the corridor toward Angel's room. Wes wasn't about, par for the course these days since Rupes had given him a spot in the labs downstairs to run some tests on his own blood, and Angel's. And that was fine with him. One less thing to deal with.
Wesley, and the impreturbable git Bevins had sussed out the reason that Angel had started to dust was because the venom had reached a saturation point in his flesh - so, he'd started to dissolve. Powers gave us a good kick in the arse, they did.
And he was about to give Angel a kick in his.
"Come on, then," he said, "Got a bit of a surprise waiting."
"Go away, Spike."
"Not tonight. You said you'd show me a bit more tai chi, and I'm sick o' doin it smellin' all these chemicals."
Angel sighed and lumbered to his feet. "Lemme get changed," he said listlessly, picked up a pair of sweatpants and headed toward the bathroom.
Always was a bit modest."Okay, so what's the surprise
( ... )
Spike smiled to himself. Never failed. Angel always spoke more freely if he had something to occupy his hands or his body. And departing that train of thought..."Can't be goin' on patrol in sweats. Gives the beasties somethin' to hang onto
( ... )
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Wesley, and the impreturbable git Bevins had sussed out the reason that Angel had started to dust was because the venom had reached a saturation point in his flesh - so, he'd started to dissolve. Powers gave us a good kick in the arse, they did.
And he was about to give Angel a kick in his.
"Come on, then," he said, "Got a bit of a surprise waiting."
"Go away, Spike."
"Not tonight. You said you'd show me a bit more tai chi, and I'm sick o' doin it smellin' all these chemicals."
Angel sighed and lumbered to his feet. "Lemme get changed," he said listlessly, picked up a pair of sweatpants and headed toward the bathroom.
Always was a bit modest."Okay, so what's the surprise ( ... )
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