Who: Angel and Wesley Where: Hotel in New Orleans When: After giving up on waking up Gunn and Cordelia What: Angel and Wes doing some bonding Status: Incomplete
Work. When they'd still been just a small investigation business, he'd been working his butt off. Trying to make certain his employees (and why they always still felt as if they were Angel's employees instead of his he never did figure out) were fed. Even if that meant taking translation jobs on the side
( ... )
Angel knew that Wes wasn't exactly known for his ability to have fun. Angel himself wasn't, either. Cordy might say that his version of fun was hanging out in a dark room, thinking by himself. While that was nice, Angel had a decent idea of what fun was, too. He actually really enjoyed watching hockey games, for one. They were played at night and indoors. It was the only sport that he had been able to develop a real taste for because of that. Plus, it was fun to get caught up yelling with the crowds
( ... )
The last person he has expected to be on the other line, and he probably shouldn't have been considering the state of the others, was Angel. Wesley blinked, frowned, and then pulled the phone away to glance as it as though this would give him any answers. Of course it did no such thing.
"Angel?" he replied, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. As well as the curiosity of what the vampire wanted. Which, apparently, wasn't anything? The former Watcher could practically hear the gears of the other's brain turning.
Coming up with words Wesley had certainly not ever expected to hear.
"Err..." Wesley frowned again, checking his watch automatically to see how long he'd been working. Even though he knew perfectly well how long that was. "You room? Uhm, and-and do what?" God, wasn't that a stupid question.
If Angel was asked to explain the thinking that was going through his mind right now, he probably couldn't come up with a coherent response. Cordelia would probably call him a goober or something right now. Which he kind of was, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear himself called something like that. He wasn't trying to be weird, he was just wanting some company and he couldn't exactly go out yet
( ... )
Being confused was nothing new for Wesley. Being confused by Angel wasn't new either. Being confused by Angel showing a new side of himself... that he wasn't used to. First the joking in the hallway with a hangover Gunn and Cordy. Now he was inviting Wesley over to... how did Gunn put it... 'hang
( ... )
This situation would be funny if Angel were watching it on some TV show of Cordelia's instead of Angel actually living it. It wasn't like either Angel or Wes were used to wanting to just 'hang out' with anyone, much less each other. Angel, as far as a new side of him was concerned, was just incredibly pleased that all of his friends were awake and together again, when he was told that Cordy would never wake up again. He was beyond relieved that she did, though
( ... )
"Uhm, yes, certainly," Wesley replied, still baffled at the suggestion. Lately Angel had been saying thing and then giving him a look as though he expected Wesley to know what he was talking about. The former watcher had no idea though, not that he was aware that he should have recalled what the vampire was talking about
( ... )
Angel kept forgetting that Wes didn't remember certain things about the last year and a half. Of course, it was completely his fault that Wes didn't remember those things. At the time, he hadn't realized that just taking Connor from everyone's memories would remove just *so* much that their memories as well. He definitely should have realized so with Wes, who's last year had been so connected with Connor and the fact that he was separated from them because of what had happened with the boy
( ... )
It was on automatism that he opened the door and stepped inside. The thoughtful look was still etched on his face. Only now it was getting a little darker due to the headache which always started when he tried to think about that, tried to figure things out.
"Hello, Angel," he murmured softly, pushing his hands in his pockets as he stood there awkwardly. He really couldn't recall /ever/ watching any movies with Angel. He really couldn't. And god, his head was starting to pound now to the point where he felt he needed to put on his glasses to see.
When Wes appeared at his door, he stepped aside so that he could walk in. Luckily, he had a sofa that was in front of a television, so they didn't have to add to the awkward quotient by laying in a bed together while watching movies. So, the small savior of Angel's dignity at the moment was good. Or maybe Wes's dignity. Angel wasn't sure.
"So...are you hungry or anything?" Angel asked. "We can order some roomservice." They had a menu to order from and everything. They had all kinds of stuff that they could order. Because it was Wolfram & Hart footing the bill, Angel was also able to order any sort of blood that he wanted to be delivered to the hotel as well. He stuck to animal's blood, though, although the occasional True Blood worked in a pinch. Even though he endorsed it, the idea of drinking human blood, even the fake kind, kind of worried him.
For some reason, and Wesley couldn't pinpoint /why/ that was. He felt quite awkward around Angel. Around the time they all joined Wolfram and Hart, he thought. It all went along with parts of his memory that had gone missing, he figured. But as usual, just as he was thinking about it a sharp pain stabbed through his head.
Angel's question fell to momentary deaf ears as Wesley reached up to press his fist into his eyes. His other hand reached up to pull of glass that were no longer there... and where they had gone he had no idea either, but he wasn't going to think about that now.
He knew from the previous few times it happened, that it would only make the headache worse.
"What?" he asked dumbly, giving the man a look as if everything was fine. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."
"Do you want to order anything from room service?" Angel asked him again. He noticed that Wes didn't look too well, plus the fact that he was reaching for glasses that he hadn't worn in a long time. Actually, since what happened to Connor he hadn't worn glasses, either because he got contacts or the laser surgery stuff they had now. Angel actually wasn't sure what he had done.
"Are you feeling OK?" he asked Wes. He honestly looked like he had a headache. If Angel ever realized that he was having problems because of the memory spell, he'd feel horrible. Of course, he wouldn't be that surprised, considering that he kept expecting some sort of fallout from what he had done. You hardly ever got anything from Wolfram & Hart without it blowing up in your face somehow or another.
"Do you need any Tylenol or anything like that?" He looked like he had a headache.
"Just a headache," Wesley was quick to say. He'd rather not Angel found out he was having those more often then Cordy used to have visions and the consequential headaches. At least she had visions to blame, Wesley found nothing he could blame but he knew the rest would say he needed to work less and relax more
( ... )
He had somewhat expected that Wesley hadn't eaten anything. When Wesley buried himself in any sort of work, he tended to forget to do the necessary things about being human, like eating and sleeping. Hell, even Angel needed those after a while, although he ate blood and didn't need nearly as much sleep as a human did. While Angel couldn't do much about Wesley's sleeping habits, he could at least get him to eat, although in a gentler manner than shoving food at him like Cordelia always did
( ... )
These headache were getting worse and worse with each passing day. Wesley actually was starting to worry. It's not as if he had visions like Cordy did and was at risk of having his brains blown out for being human, right?
So what was causing them? He'd hated hospitals but if they got any worse then he had no other choice but to go see a doctor. Maybe it was just stress. Yes, yes that was probably it. Just stress, nothing more. The whole move to a big firm and-- things. Things.
Things?
"What?" He blinked, look up at Angel somewhat confused and frantically tries to recall what his friend had just said. or asked? Had he asked something?
"Oh, that's nice?" Wesley tried, hoping that the neutral reply would be sufficient to cover up that he had no clue what Angel had just said.
It seemed like Wesley was getting more and more easily distracted lately. Sadly, Angel had a feeling it was because of the memory spell. He had been told that there had been the possibility of repercussions before, but he had pushed them to the back of his mind in a hope and a prayer that something could be done in order to help Connor. Now he was seeing that maybe he should have sought help from someone other than an evil law firm. (Especially one who tended to look for ways to screw him over.)
Instead of pointing out that Wes probably hadn't heard a word that he had said, Angel simply smiled and put the menu in front of Wes's face. "Pick out something that you'd like. I'm pretty sure they have the better part of everything." Even some of the gross British food that he knew Wes liked, for some ungodly reason.
He was sometimes certain that the British were born without taste buds.
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"Angel?" he replied, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. As well as the curiosity of what the vampire wanted. Which, apparently, wasn't anything? The former Watcher could practically hear the gears of the other's brain turning.
Coming up with words Wesley had certainly not ever expected to hear.
"Err..." Wesley frowned again, checking his watch automatically to see how long he'd been working. Even though he knew perfectly well how long that was. "You room? Uhm, and-and do what?" God, wasn't that a stupid question.
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"Hello, Angel," he murmured softly, pushing his hands in his pockets as he stood there awkwardly. He really couldn't recall /ever/ watching any movies with Angel. He really couldn't. And god, his head was starting to pound now to the point where he felt he needed to put on his glasses to see.
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"So...are you hungry or anything?" Angel asked. "We can order some roomservice." They had a menu to order from and everything. They had all kinds of stuff that they could order. Because it was Wolfram & Hart footing the bill, Angel was also able to order any sort of blood that he wanted to be delivered to the hotel as well. He stuck to animal's blood, though, although the occasional True Blood worked in a pinch. Even though he endorsed it, the idea of drinking human blood, even the fake kind, kind of worried him.
Plus, it tasted funny to him.
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Angel's question fell to momentary deaf ears as Wesley reached up to press his fist into his eyes. His other hand reached up to pull of glass that were no longer there... and where they had gone he had no idea either, but he wasn't going to think about that now.
He knew from the previous few times it happened, that it would only make the headache worse.
"What?" he asked dumbly, giving the man a look as if everything was fine. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."
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"Are you feeling OK?" he asked Wes. He honestly looked like he had a headache. If Angel ever realized that he was having problems because of the memory spell, he'd feel horrible. Of course, he wouldn't be that surprised, considering that he kept expecting some sort of fallout from what he had done. You hardly ever got anything from Wolfram & Hart without it blowing up in your face somehow or another.
"Do you need any Tylenol or anything like that?" He looked like he had a headache.
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So what was causing them? He'd hated hospitals but if they got any worse then he had no other choice but to go see a doctor. Maybe it was just stress. Yes, yes that was probably it. Just stress, nothing more. The whole move to a big firm and-- things. Things.
Things?
"What?" He blinked, look up at Angel somewhat confused and frantically tries to recall what his friend had just said. or asked? Had he asked something?
"Oh, that's nice?" Wesley tried, hoping that the neutral reply would be sufficient to cover up that he had no clue what Angel had just said.
Reply
Instead of pointing out that Wes probably hadn't heard a word that he had said, Angel simply smiled and put the menu in front of Wes's face. "Pick out something that you'd like. I'm pretty sure they have the better part of everything." Even some of the gross British food that he knew Wes liked, for some ungodly reason.
He was sometimes certain that the British were born without taste buds.
Reply
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