Wesley's eyes followed Connor and Anya as they left the shop. He was rather relieved that Anya was going with the boy. Though when push came to shove, he really had no idea who'd end up protecting whom. Anya may be human now, but she knew magic and was still a force to be reckoned with. And Connor of course had strength on his side. Still, he couldn't help but worry.
"What?" he tore his gaze away from the door he'd still been staring at the turned toward Giles. "Oh, yes. Of course he'll be fine." Now if only he could actually make that sound as though he was convinced of that himself. And for the first time he thought he'd be quiet glad when Connor was with Angel. Far away from here until the threat was gone. Until the next one comes along. It’ll never end will it? Except, most threats weren't so personal.
"Do you think Connor would be more likely to go if Dawn went along with him? Do you think Dawn would even want to go with him?" Did Dawn like Angel? He couldn't quite remember. But she seemed to like Cordelia very much.
Giles raised his eyebrows a Wesley, a small smile reaching his lips. "Would Dawn want to go to LA? Where there are more shoe and clothing stores than there are demons in Sunnydale? I think it's a safe bet, love." Considering the idea further, he nodded to his partner. "We'll have to talk to Buffy, of course, but I believe Connor would probably be more likely to go."
Sighing, Giles turned from his books. "The sooner we get him to go, the better I'll feel. At least that's one, perhaps two, less people to worry about."
Oh, yes. I hadn't thought of that," Wesley said, blinking at his lover. Who was slowly coming into focus. Well, progress at last. A much as he liked to hide behind a blurry vision from the world from time to time. He would like to actually *see* something. "I'm guessing Buffy might want to drive them over and take the opportunity to go shopping with Cordelia then." Excellent, then they'd not have to leave here and could continue their research.
Glancing at the numbers he'd scribbled down, he half heartedly picked up the phone. He sat down on the wooden chair, squirmed and thought better of it. Thought that little action make him remember their previous night as a very small smile slid on his face. Thought it quickly disappeared again at Giles words.
"Yes, quite." Nodding and swallowing a sigh of worry, Wesley picked up the phone and started to call his contacts. The sooner they would have this solved, the soon they could get back to their lives. And actually enjoy having the house to themselves for... Not to long, hopefully.
"She might," Giles agreed with a nod, forcing his eyes back to the books. They had to find something, had to get this over with so that he and Wesley could feel safe again. He was truly beginning to hate the Hellmouth. Oh, there had been another time when he'd felt the same, but that time had ending in his leaving.
As he didn't ever intend to do that again . . .
Giles paused, blinking at the page before him. "Wesley? Where's that drawing you made of the foot print? I've found it! I think I've found it!" Giles was already rooting through the notebooks on the table, but he was almost certain it was a match. A Carator demon. Small, not terribly strong, but quick and vicious. Reptilian ancestor . . . known to love magic, to feed on it and those who used it, but thought to be almost extinct.
Still on the phone with one of his contacts, Wesley looked up startled when Giles suddenly started to yell. He frowned in confusion and then rushed to reassure the fellow on the other side of the line that all was well and there was no need for panic. Odd little demon chap, always sensitive.
He quickly excused himself, and then hung up the phone. "It's over...oh..." It would seem Giles had already found his drawing, and the thing, demon they were looking for. Walking over to the table, hands outstretched, he bumped into it and then rounded it to squint at the book Giles was holding rather enthusiastically.
"Errrr,...what is it?" he asked, his nose nearly inside the book Giles was holding up. "More importantly, how do we find it, kill or make it talk." And boy, if the undertone in his voice hadn't just turned dark and dangerous at the thought of wringing this things neck.
"All good questions," Giles murmured, reaching to slide his hand to the back of Wesley's neck and rubbing at the tense muscles there. "It's not hard to hurt, but it's also glutton, so we might be able to make it talk by feeding it magic. Or, we could just thrash it a bit." The last was almost a growl.
"Finding it . . . well, that all depends on whether it's being fed by someone. It's definitely working with someone, but if it's not getting a regular meal from them, then we'll just have to lure it out with the promise of food."
Closing his eyes, Wesley leaned into the hand rubbing his neck. He let out a sigh as tense muscles responded a bit at Giles clever fingers as they pressed on just the right spot unconsciously. He couldn’t help but agree with his lover, especially about the trashing bit. He was happily going to trash that little critter within an inch of life. And then make it beg for that inch.
With a sigh he opened his eyes and reached out automatically to put his hand on the small of Giles’ back. He peered down at the book in front of him, squinting his eyes again. As though that would actually would make it better for him to read. “What does that thing eat?” he wanted to know, rubbing small circles on his lover’s back. Good lord, but they were both tense. No matter what, he was going to give his partner a massage tonight before they went to bed.
"Magic," Giles said with a sigh, pressing back against Wesley's hand. He was fairly sure both Wesley and himself hand been relaxed just this morning, though it felt as if days had passed since his muscles had unbunched. "If we do have to resort to feeding the thing . . . I hate to call in Willow and Tara, but it would know to stay away from you and I and, by extension, our magic."
Giles sighed, removing his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Still, it's something, a lead. Once we get our hands on this little creature we'll know who's doing this." Giles rather hoped it was a demon. Something he wouldn't feel at all bad about killing.
It was amazing, Wesley thought, that relaxation usually went flying out the window the moment the left their save little haven known as their bedroom. Not always, not by any means. But when it did, the problems seemed to pile up until it was a mountain they couldn't climb. Or at least that's what it looked like, felt like.
"Or maybe it's so hungry we can lure it in with our magic." Wesley shivered at that. He knew he was born with magic coursing through his veins. But his father had always written that off as second hand rubbish. He'd not been allowed to learn it properly, and probably would never have if it weren't for his grandmother. And the rather inept, he now recognized, classes at the academy.
"We'll get whoever did this," he murmured, leaning in to kiss Giles' temple reassuringly. And once they did, he was going to beat whom or whatever to a bloody pulp for upsetting and threatening his lover like this. No one got away with that and walked away unharmed.
"I doubt it, love," Giles said on a sigh, leaning in to Wesley's kiss and giving his partner a small--but real--smile. "It's smart enough to figure out that we're trying to trap it, but it shouldn't know Willow's or Tara's magic. I don't know. We'll have to consider this, talk it over with the others."
Sliding his arm around Wesley's waist, Giles leaned his head against his partner's hip. They'd made some progress, now they just need to decide how to proceed. And, first, Giles wanted to get the books put up before Connor and Anya came back.
Not liking the idea of getting anyone else involved, Wesley nodded absently. They could cross that bridge when they got there. They'd have to try it with their magic first. Maybe the creature was so hungry it wouldn't care. Or maybe it was pathetically dumb. But knowing their luck
( ... )
"What?" he tore his gaze away from the door he'd still been staring at the turned toward Giles. "Oh, yes. Of course he'll be fine." Now if only he could actually make that sound as though he was convinced of that himself. And for the first time he thought he'd be quiet glad when Connor was with Angel. Far away from here until the threat was gone. Until the next one comes along. It’ll never end will it? Except, most threats weren't so personal.
"Do you think Connor would be more likely to go if Dawn went along with him? Do you think Dawn would even want to go with him?" Did Dawn like Angel? He couldn't quite remember. But she seemed to like Cordelia very much.
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Sighing, Giles turned from his books. "The sooner we get him to go, the better I'll feel. At least that's one, perhaps two, less people to worry about."
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Glancing at the numbers he'd scribbled down, he half heartedly picked up the phone. He sat down on the wooden chair, squirmed and thought better of it. Thought that little action make him remember their previous night as a very small smile slid on his face. Thought it quickly disappeared again at Giles words.
"Yes, quite." Nodding and swallowing a sigh of worry, Wesley picked up the phone and started to call his contacts. The sooner they would have this solved, the soon they could get back to their lives. And actually enjoy having the house to themselves for... Not to long, hopefully.
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As he didn't ever intend to do that again . . .
Giles paused, blinking at the page before him. "Wesley? Where's that drawing you made of the foot print? I've found it! I think I've found it!" Giles was already rooting through the notebooks on the table, but he was almost certain it was a match. A Carator demon. Small, not terribly strong, but quick and vicious. Reptilian ancestor . . . known to love magic, to feed on it and those who used it, but thought to be almost extinct.
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He quickly excused himself, and then hung up the phone. "It's over...oh..." It would seem Giles had already found his drawing, and the thing, demon they were looking for. Walking over to the table, hands outstretched, he bumped into it and then rounded it to squint at the book Giles was holding rather enthusiastically.
"Errrr,...what is it?" he asked, his nose nearly inside the book Giles was holding up. "More importantly, how do we find it, kill or make it talk." And boy, if the undertone in his voice hadn't just turned dark and dangerous at the thought of wringing this things neck.
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"Finding it . . . well, that all depends on whether it's being fed by someone. It's definitely working with someone, but if it's not getting a regular meal from them, then we'll just have to lure it out with the promise of food."
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With a sigh he opened his eyes and reached out automatically to put his hand on the small of Giles’ back. He peered down at the book in front of him, squinting his eyes again. As though that would actually would make it better for him to read. “What does that thing eat?” he wanted to know, rubbing small circles on his lover’s back. Good lord, but they were both tense. No matter what, he was going to give his partner a massage tonight before they went to bed.
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Giles sighed, removing his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Still, it's something, a lead. Once we get our hands on this little creature we'll know who's doing this." Giles rather hoped it was a demon. Something he wouldn't feel at all bad about killing.
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"Or maybe it's so hungry we can lure it in with our magic." Wesley shivered at that. He knew he was born with magic coursing through his veins. But his father had always written that off as second hand rubbish. He'd not been allowed to learn it properly, and probably would never have if it weren't for his grandmother. And the rather inept, he now recognized, classes at the academy.
"We'll get whoever did this," he murmured, leaning in to kiss Giles' temple reassuringly. And once they did, he was going to beat whom or whatever to a bloody pulp for upsetting and threatening his lover like this. No one got away with that and walked away unharmed.
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Sliding his arm around Wesley's waist, Giles leaned his head against his partner's hip. They'd made some progress, now they just need to decide how to proceed. And, first, Giles wanted to get the books put up before Connor and Anya came back.
"Help me put these away?"
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