I blinked at Wesley in confusion for a moment, then stood up, silently moving across the the bathroom to pick up the clothes that Wes had taken in there earlier, but I had forgotten about in light of everything else going on. After all, I had thought... I had thought that Wes might almost be dying, and I didn't think I could handle anyone else I cared about dying. And when I was worried about that, why would I worry about cleaning up the clothes in the bathroom?
I got in there, and glanced at Wesley's clothing from earlier, and sighed slightly. He wasn't going to wear that again... it was covered in demon egg goop this time. It looked like it might come off in the wash, and I dutifully picked it up, tossing the clothing in a bag for later. Later, we could find out whether or not it came out. I scooped up the clean clothing, and carried it back out into the room.
Back out in the room, I set the clothes on the bed, then looked up, studying Wesley. He still looked tired, but now he looked... irritated, and I wondered briefly what I had done this time. I knew he was frustrated for being in this situation in the first place, but I knew it wasn't like I was making it any better.
"You sure?" I asked, looking at Wesley carefully. I didn't want to help him put them on, if all that was going to do was cost his pride more so that he got even more pissed. I hated making my friends angry in the first place, even if sometimes I couldn't avoid it- there were just some things... that they didn't understand. I avoided it if I could, but sometimes, it needed to be done, to keep them safe from whatever it was.
Wearily, I watched him take off for the bathroom. I hadn't actually expected him to do that. What had I expected when I'd said that? Probably more confusion, which I'd seen. And then some question about what he'd done this time. Those weren't asked, but I'm sure he went over it in his head. Stupid git, he really ought to stop with the guilt for something that wasn't in his hands, wasn't his fault.
Sighing, I waited for him to come back with my borrowed clothes. Yet another thing to be thankful for I suppose. I could've just gone home in my demon egg gooped up ones. But he'd let me borrow some of his. And right about now, I was feeling naked in the sense that I felt vulnerable. I needed those clothes. Just a thin silk sheet wasn't cutting it.
What I hadn't considered, I realized when Angel came back, was that I couldn't put on those clothes myself. Great. Dammit. Bloody hell. Damnation! Still, I'd had enough of this. Letting out another sigh, I just nodded slowly and then gritted my teeth when another sharp pain shot up my leg. What the hell *was* that about anyway? Was that mentioned in the bloody book? I really was going to research some more once I got out of this mess.
Closing my eyes, I noticed I was able to ball my hands into fists as I waited for the pain to stop stabbing my leg.
I waited for Wesley's response, looking up when I got none. Instead, I saw him clenching his hands into fists, his jaw clenched tightly. I paused, concerned, then moved to stand next to the head of the bed.
"Wes?" I asked, watching as his eyes slipped closed. "Wesley? What's wrong?" What was happening now? I had thought that he was getting better, that this was almost over... but what if something else was wrong, something that he hadn't told me about? How was I supposed to help him now? Wesley hadn't mentioned anything hurting earlier, even though I had caught him wincing in pain several times. Why hadn't I asked him?
I sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Wesley worried. My hand slipped up to briefly touch the side of his face, before resting on his shoulder, shaking him slightly to get his attention. "Wes? Tell me what's going on..."
It must have been the worry in his voice which made me open my eyes. I stared at him for quite some time, trying to even my breathing. Well done, Pryce. Bloody marvelous job. Make him even more worried. Heap more guilt in the never ending pile. Smashingly done old chap.
Sighing, I slowly unclenched my hands. When he touched the side of my face, my eyes fluttered closed again and I let out a sigh for a completely different reason. Thank god I'm still sweating like a pig and overly warm, or Angel would've noticed my blush. Wonder if he can feel or sense the difference. God, I hope not.
"Don't worry," I told him, my voice sounding rather rough. Clearing my throat, I glanced at the clothes in his hand. I wish he'd just get on with it. Then I can find out if one can indeed die of too much embarrassment. "Just my body...reacting to...the-the poison leaving it." Liar, you have no idea if that's what's wrong. But it sounded like a rather plausible explanation to me. "Hurts a little bit," I added, mustering up a smile for him. Even if it was a little weak.
My hand relaxed on his shoulder, and I looked at him seriously, studying him to see if there was anything he was hiding. I had noticed his skin flush slightly when I touched his face, and wondered briefly why he wanted his clothing on when he was still so hot... wouldn't that just make it worse?
"You sure?" I asked him. I could hope that that was it, but... there was still over an hour until this completely faded, maybe more. I supposed it could hurt, but... I didn't want it to hurt him. "Is there anything I can do?"
I doubted it... if this was just him recovering from the poison, I didn't know what I would be able to do to help him out at all. Then again, it wasn't like I was really any help in the first place... I just knew that I could stay with him, make sure he wasn't alone.
I frowned at him confused. What I sure about what? About it hurting? Hell yes, I was certain about that. Even though I tried very hard not to show it. But it was almost an un-doable task with my limbs paralyzed the way they were.
Or did he mean was I certain it was just the poison leaving my body? No, I wasn't at all certain about that. But that was something I wasn't going to admit. Angel had enough to worry about, really. He didn't need me to heap more guilt on his plate.
"Am I sure about...what?" I asked, not being able to figure out what he meant. I shifted a little in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. Quickly I bit down on a gasp when even that small movement made the pain in my leg flare up. God, I wish what that was about. I'd feel a whole lot better if I knew.
As Wesley shifted on the bed, my hand lifted away, hovering in the air for a moment before I pulled it back to my side, unsure about what to do while he shifted. When he settled, I shifted myself slightly to allow him room, and looked back up at him
"About the poison leaving your body?" I asked, looking at him oddly. I didn't think that I could douby whether he was in pain or not... I was pretty good at telling when someone was hurting. After all, I had spent over a century doing that myself.
My hand smoothed the covers on the bed awkwardly, as I studied Wesley carefully. He did look like something was hurting him... I didn't like that at all. Paralysation was one thing, but for there to be more pain... had the book mentioned anything about that? I didn't think so, but not the book was halfway across the room, the place lost, and I didn't feel like looking for it again right now.
"Is... is there anything I can do?" I repeated after a moment. I didn't like sitting here, not being able to do anything; I was supposed to help people, not just sit around and watch them suffer, right?
"Oh." I blinked at him slowly, suddenly feeling very tired. Once again I had trouble keeping my eyes open and I just hoped I could get some sleep soon. I was bloody exhausted, which is more then a little ridiculous considering all I do is lay on bed. God, how pathetic.
"Yes, I'm sure," I said, congratulating myself for sounding so confident. I was far from convident. Hell, I didn't know if that was actually the poison leaving my body. I could only hope so, because then the pain would have a valid reason. I guess. Now? It's just annoying and very painful. And tiring, trying to hide it from Angel. Which I really have to ask myself if that is even working.
"Do?" I parroted stupidly, blinking at him again. Do? What did he want to do? Massage my leg? I don't think he'd be very comfortable doing that. Nor would I. Other then that? There's not a whole lot one can do. "I don't know," I whispered, stifling a yawn. And could he *please* put on my...his...clothes? I'm getting sick of literally feeling very weak and vulnerable.
I watched as Wesley yawned, then glanced away politely. "That's good... I'm glad you're starting to feel better, though." I nodded slightly, then glanced down at the stack of clothes still lying on the bed.
I lifted them up, and looked over at Wes. "So, um, did you want these on, then?" I asked, setting the clothes down again next to him. It would be awkward, to say the least... but it wasn't like we weren't friends here. He might need the clothes to keep warm or something... and who was I to deny him that?
I rested one hand on the clothes as I waited, glancing at the clock again. Not that much longer until he'd be able to put them on himself, hopefully, but if he wanted them on now... Hell, I'd get over it- I had seen more than my share of naked bodies in the past. On the other hand, would Wesley ever be able to look at me the same way again? He still was shy at times, and I wondered if he'd really be okay with this- it wasn't worth ruining our friendship, I thought. If he'd never be able to look me in the eye again... I blinked, snapping out of it again.
Blinking, I looked at him wearily. Did I want those on now? Yes I did. This feeling of nakedness wasn't at all comfortable. Just a few thin sheets covering it up, wasn't at all comfortable. And maybe it's just in my own mind I feel so vulnerable without clothes, but I can't help it. After all, I'm well aware that the suits I wore during my Sunnydale days, were nothing but a mere armor as well.
Did I want Angel to put them on? Not really, things were embarrassing enough as they were. Then again, he picked me out from underneath the shower. One can't get much more naked then under there. It would be rather odd to shower with one's clothes on. So he'd seen it all, and he was a man...pire, himself. God, it's still so embarrassing.
"Please," I managed to get out, wincing at the sound and tone of my own voice. Could I sound anymore defeated and small? So much for putting up a strong font. I'm supposed to be the boss here, and now look at me. Weak and pathetic, laying in a co-workers bed naked and completely reliable on Angel's help. For just about anything.
Which would include... Christ no. Why is my bladder not paralyzed as well? Squirming, I tried to ignore the pressure building there while I looked away from Angel.
I nodded slightly, then reached to pick up the boxers that I had lent Wes. As I lifted them, I glanced up just as Wesley glanced away and began to squirm. I looked away, realizing that this had to be hard for him, after all... having one of your friends have to dress you probably wasn't very high on his list of things he loved.
I grabbed the edge of the sheet, preparing to ease it back; better to get the most stressful part over first, right? Put the boxers and sweats on, then the shirt, and all would be fine? I glanced back up at Wesley, looking for permission almost, and I noticed him still squirming a little bit.
"Wesley?" I asked, concerned. "I... I'm sorry." I glanced away again, wondering if there was any other way to do this, so Wes wasn't so uncomfortable, and so he'd be able to look me in the eye again when this was over. I could try knocking him out, but... somehow, I didn't think that would work very well, and I didn't want to go there.
Alright, why am I still not dressed? The longer this takes, the more embarrassed I'm going to be. And from the way Angel is hovering about, I'd say he will be as well. And isn't that a strange thought, considering he's a vampire and has seen plenty of naked people before. Even dead ones, he killed himself. Well, Angelus did.
"What are you sorry for...now?" I asked, rather exasperated. I was getting very tired of that as well. His constant apologizing was getting on my nerves. Especially since I had no bloody clue what the hell he was sorry for this time. It would seem he'd feel sorry for the most stupidest things. Next, he'll be feeling sorry and guilty for me having to go to the toilet.
Which I still have to do. And thinking about it isn't doing me a whole lot of good. I just need to keep it in for...God, how long? A few hours? I don't know if I can, but I'm bloody well going to try. "Just get...get on with it," I sighed, looking away from him while I tried not to squirm so much.
What was I sorry for? Wasn't I making him uncomfortable? I could see how awkward this was, and... I couldn't blame him.
I shrugged it off, though, instead nodding when he told me to get on with it. This was starting to wear on my nerves as well, waiting for Wes to get better so I would know for sure that he was going to be fine, and that the book had been telling the truth... I moved the sheet down from Wesley's waist, moving it to his ankles and snagging the boxers from his side.
I carefully avoided Wesley's eyes as I worked the boxers up his legs, being careful not to jar him as I shifted his legs. As I reached his waist, I swallowed, then slipped an arm under and around his waist, lifting him up so I could finish slipping the boxers up.
I stopped before I finished that, though, and glanced up at Wesley, commenting casually, "You're too thin, Wes." I shouldn't be able to lift him this easily- he was taller than me, and I would have hoped that he would take care of himself. He was thin... almost as thin as Cordelia had been when I had first run into her in LA.
Staring at him until he started to move, I reverted my eyes up the ceiling. I gritted my teeth, sucking in my breath when cool air licked over my sweat damp skin. God, this was embarrassing. But I knew I'd feel better wearing something. Feel less vulnerable.
Though I was feeling *very* vulnerable right this moment. He was moving so damn slow. Maybe it just seemed that way, but he could move a little... a lot faster. Wishing that he were, I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. His hands were cool on my skin as they brushed over it and I bit down on a sigh.
"I'm...I'm what?" I opened my eyes, looking at him stunned. All thoughts of being embarrassed left my mind while I mulled that over. I glanced down my body, luckily with boxers on now and raised an eyebrow. "I've always been this way?" Confused, I looked at him again and blinked.
What? What did he mean 'I am to thin.'? "I'm not thin," I felt the need to point out, swallowing the urge to yell at him to bloody hurry it up.
I got in there, and glanced at Wesley's clothing from earlier, and sighed slightly. He wasn't going to wear that again... it was covered in demon egg goop this time. It looked like it might come off in the wash, and I dutifully picked it up, tossing the clothing in a bag for later. Later, we could find out whether or not it came out. I scooped up the clean clothing, and carried it back out into the room.
Back out in the room, I set the clothes on the bed, then looked up, studying Wesley. He still looked tired, but now he looked... irritated, and I wondered briefly what I had done this time. I knew he was frustrated for being in this situation in the first place, but I knew it wasn't like I was making it any better.
"You sure?" I asked, looking at Wesley carefully. I didn't want to help him put them on, if all that was going to do was cost his pride more so that he got even more pissed. I hated making my friends angry in the first place, even if sometimes I couldn't avoid it- there were just some things... that they didn't understand. I avoided it if I could, but sometimes, it needed to be done, to keep them safe from whatever it was.
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Sighing, I waited for him to come back with my borrowed clothes. Yet another thing to be thankful for I suppose. I could've just gone home in my demon egg gooped up ones. But he'd let me borrow some of his. And right about now, I was feeling naked in the sense that I felt vulnerable. I needed those clothes. Just a thin silk sheet wasn't cutting it.
What I hadn't considered, I realized when Angel came back, was that I couldn't put on those clothes myself. Great. Dammit. Bloody hell. Damnation! Still, I'd had enough of this. Letting out another sigh, I just nodded slowly and then gritted my teeth when another sharp pain shot up my leg. What the hell *was* that about anyway? Was that mentioned in the bloody book? I really was going to research some more once I got out of this mess.
Closing my eyes, I noticed I was able to ball my hands into fists as I waited for the pain to stop stabbing my leg.
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"Wes?" I asked, watching as his eyes slipped closed. "Wesley? What's wrong?" What was happening now? I had thought that he was getting better, that this was almost over... but what if something else was wrong, something that he hadn't told me about? How was I supposed to help him now? Wesley hadn't mentioned anything hurting earlier, even though I had caught him wincing in pain several times. Why hadn't I asked him?
I sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Wesley worried. My hand slipped up to briefly touch the side of his face, before resting on his shoulder, shaking him slightly to get his attention. "Wes? Tell me what's going on..."
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Sighing, I slowly unclenched my hands. When he touched the side of my face, my eyes fluttered closed again and I let out a sigh for a completely different reason. Thank god I'm still sweating like a pig and overly warm, or Angel would've noticed my blush. Wonder if he can feel or sense the difference. God, I hope not.
"Don't worry," I told him, my voice sounding rather rough. Clearing my throat, I glanced at the clothes in his hand. I wish he'd just get on with it. Then I can find out if one can indeed die of too much embarrassment. "Just my body...reacting to...the-the poison leaving it." Liar, you have no idea if that's what's wrong. But it sounded like a rather plausible explanation to me. "Hurts a little bit," I added, mustering up a smile for him. Even if it was a little weak.
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"You sure?" I asked him. I could hope that that was it, but... there was still over an hour until this completely faded, maybe more. I supposed it could hurt, but... I didn't want it to hurt him. "Is there anything I can do?"
I doubted it... if this was just him recovering from the poison, I didn't know what I would be able to do to help him out at all. Then again, it wasn't like I was really any help in the first place... I just knew that I could stay with him, make sure he wasn't alone.
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Or did he mean was I certain it was just the poison leaving my body? No, I wasn't at all certain about that. But that was something I wasn't going to admit. Angel had enough to worry about, really. He didn't need me to heap more guilt on his plate.
"Am I sure about...what?" I asked, not being able to figure out what he meant. I shifted a little in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. Quickly I bit down on a gasp when even that small movement made the pain in my leg flare up. God, I wish what that was about. I'd feel a whole lot better if I knew.
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"About the poison leaving your body?" I asked, looking at him oddly. I didn't think that I could douby whether he was in pain or not... I was pretty good at telling when someone was hurting. After all, I had spent over a century doing that myself.
My hand smoothed the covers on the bed awkwardly, as I studied Wesley carefully. He did look like something was hurting him... I didn't like that at all. Paralysation was one thing, but for there to be more pain... had the book mentioned anything about that? I didn't think so, but not the book was halfway across the room, the place lost, and I didn't feel like looking for it again right now.
"Is... is there anything I can do?" I repeated after a moment. I didn't like sitting here, not being able to do anything; I was supposed to help people, not just sit around and watch them suffer, right?
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"Yes, I'm sure," I said, congratulating myself for sounding so confident. I was far from convident. Hell, I didn't know if that was actually the poison leaving my body. I could only hope so, because then the pain would have a valid reason. I guess. Now? It's just annoying and very painful. And tiring, trying to hide it from Angel. Which I really have to ask myself if that is even working.
"Do?" I parroted stupidly, blinking at him again. Do? What did he want to do? Massage my leg? I don't think he'd be very comfortable doing that. Nor would I. Other then that? There's not a whole lot one can do. "I don't know," I whispered, stifling a yawn. And could he *please* put on my...his...clothes? I'm getting sick of literally feeling very weak and vulnerable.
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I lifted them up, and looked over at Wes. "So, um, did you want these on, then?" I asked, setting the clothes down again next to him. It would be awkward, to say the least... but it wasn't like we weren't friends here. He might need the clothes to keep warm or something... and who was I to deny him that?
I rested one hand on the clothes as I waited, glancing at the clock again. Not that much longer until he'd be able to put them on himself, hopefully, but if he wanted them on now... Hell, I'd get over it- I had seen more than my share of naked bodies in the past. On the other hand, would Wesley ever be able to look at me the same way again? He still was shy at times, and I wondered if he'd really be okay with this- it wasn't worth ruining our friendship, I thought. If he'd never be able to look me in the eye again... I blinked, snapping out of it again.
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Did I want Angel to put them on? Not really, things were embarrassing enough as they were. Then again, he picked me out from underneath the shower. One can't get much more naked then under there. It would be rather odd to shower with one's clothes on. So he'd seen it all, and he was a man...pire, himself. God, it's still so embarrassing.
"Please," I managed to get out, wincing at the sound and tone of my own voice. Could I sound anymore defeated and small? So much for putting up a strong font. I'm supposed to be the boss here, and now look at me. Weak and pathetic, laying in a co-workers bed naked and completely reliable on Angel's help. For just about anything.
Which would include... Christ no. Why is my bladder not paralyzed as well? Squirming, I tried to ignore the pressure building there while I looked away from Angel.
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I grabbed the edge of the sheet, preparing to ease it back; better to get the most stressful part over first, right? Put the boxers and sweats on, then the shirt, and all would be fine? I glanced back up at Wesley, looking for permission almost, and I noticed him still squirming a little bit.
"Wesley?" I asked, concerned. "I... I'm sorry." I glanced away again, wondering if there was any other way to do this, so Wes wasn't so uncomfortable, and so he'd be able to look me in the eye again when this was over. I could try knocking him out, but... somehow, I didn't think that would work very well, and I didn't want to go there.
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"What are you sorry for...now?" I asked, rather exasperated. I was getting very tired of that as well. His constant apologizing was getting on my nerves. Especially since I had no bloody clue what the hell he was sorry for this time. It would seem he'd feel sorry for the most stupidest things. Next, he'll be feeling sorry and guilty for me having to go to the toilet.
Which I still have to do. And thinking about it isn't doing me a whole lot of good. I just need to keep it in for...God, how long? A few hours? I don't know if I can, but I'm bloody well going to try. "Just get...get on with it," I sighed, looking away from him while I tried not to squirm so much.
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I shrugged it off, though, instead nodding when he told me to get on with it. This was starting to wear on my nerves as well, waiting for Wes to get better so I would know for sure that he was going to be fine, and that the book had been telling the truth... I moved the sheet down from Wesley's waist, moving it to his ankles and snagging the boxers from his side.
I carefully avoided Wesley's eyes as I worked the boxers up his legs, being careful not to jar him as I shifted his legs. As I reached his waist, I swallowed, then slipped an arm under and around his waist, lifting him up so I could finish slipping the boxers up.
I stopped before I finished that, though, and glanced up at Wesley, commenting casually, "You're too thin, Wes." I shouldn't be able to lift him this easily- he was taller than me, and I would have hoped that he would take care of himself. He was thin... almost as thin as Cordelia had been when I had first run into her in LA.
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Though I was feeling *very* vulnerable right this moment. He was moving so damn slow. Maybe it just seemed that way, but he could move a little... a lot faster. Wishing that he were, I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. His hands were cool on my skin as they brushed over it and I bit down on a sigh.
"I'm...I'm what?" I opened my eyes, looking at him stunned. All thoughts of being embarrassed left my mind while I mulled that over. I glanced down my body, luckily with boxers on now and raised an eyebrow. "I've always been this way?" Confused, I looked at him again and blinked.
What? What did he mean 'I am to thin.'? "I'm not thin," I felt the need to point out, swallowing the urge to yell at him to bloody hurry it up.
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