Drabble #2
Title: Rewards
Fandom: ANGEL AU
Characters: Wesley Pryce
Disclaimer:"Angel" belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy and the former WB network.
"This isn't another end-of-the-world scenario, Wes! Look around. This is as good as it gets and lemme tell you something else, Mr. Tight Pants, you need to loosen up."
He released a tired sigh, his fogged up eyes slowly watching the legs of his best friend, his coworker, the woman he'd watch grow.
Wait. Did she just call me Mr. Tight Pants?
"Cordelia..I'm not wearing any pants."
This didn't matter to her one bit. "Oh, fine, shorts. Tight. Shorts!"
An unusual silence breathed between the two.
His mouth opened to speak but found himself blushing.
Cordelia settled in front of him and he wondered what else she had to offer. Slowly removing his glasses, he noticed her wearing a small frown. This, naturally, caused him to follow hers.
"Perhaps something is bothering you now?" His tone was depricating in ways she wouldn't appreciate.
"Oh, something alright." Was her tight-lipped reply.
"I find it bothersome you attempt to rob me of my sleep, Cordelia. Are you not the least bit exhausted from the galloping and pacing you have put on for me and possibly the others?"
With a slap to his shoulder and a wide smile she stood up, pulling him along.
"Pfft! You are so cute when you're grouchy. C'mon, Wes, some of us actually like having fun, and just cuz I'm still young doesn't mean I have to put on the same old man parade like you!"
A low grunt escaped from the back of his throat. He would repress the amused smile begging to be shown because he refused to believe he would succumb to her childish ways.
Their feet shuffled through steaming, bright, silky grains that were as white and crisp as porcelain. As he was led to the edge of the dry sand, a small cold wave wrapped around their ankles. For the first time all day, he released a laugh that would make the others believe he was the same Wesley from years ago. The same man who would dance without shame. The man who would enjoy a conversation discussing which super hero was his favorite. This was Wesley. It was always a part of him. He just had forgotten. They always seemed to forget one way or the other.
This, he realized, was what it meant to live. In every person they had helped, this was their reward. A reward well deserved.
The brunette broke the silence. "Now that I've gotten you this far..." She placed two hands around her mouth and spoke louder than the entire beach of Malibu, "Who's up for some wet-sand fights in the water?!"
In the background, he heard Angel exclaim he'd get the first hit in, to which Cordelia responded, "Oh! Says who? Your throws are girlier than Wesleys!!"
"You have to know just how wrong you are on that, Cordy. You're looking at someone who's battled dragons and invisible demons." Angel pointed to himself.
"Dragons." He repeated as if it'd carry more substance the second time around. "And-and invisible-"
She waved him off. "Oh, I'm looking at him alright and I'm unimpressed. Must be the whole lack of leather trench flying in the air, sword beheading, that makes you look all defenseless and kinda whimpish."
The aged Englishmen slowly began to open his mouth in protest, only to find himself interrupted by a stronger voice.
"Ya'll are trippin', I say we make this mean somethin' and set up points!" Charles Gunn stood in the water, knee-deep, one tightly folded fist pounding into an open palm, a look of cocky-adolscence in his brown eyes.
Oh, brilliant. With two hands firmly at his own sides, a confident smile appeared across Wesley's face. "Ahhhh, yes, perhaps a point system created to-"
"To sufficiently calculate each individual's strength and weaknesses!" Winifred Burkle chimmed in, taking a stand beside the others. Seem's like they all wore a wide grinning smile.
"I was going to say that!" Wesley's immediately quipped.
Fred shrugged her shoulders and placed her hands behind her lower back, offering a meek smile.
Gunn, the man he'd battled with side-by-side all these years stepped over to his left and gave him a proper nod. A competitive brother but a loyal one.
"What do you say, Wes? We gonna show Barbie, Skipper and Whitey over here just how we do it?"
"But just so we're clear, boys, Skipper is Fred, right." Not even a question in her tone, Cordelia raised two eyebrows, a look that read she wasn't wrong and she'd kick their rears if they told her otherwise.
Here it was. His smile. Boyish and dorky enough to let his family know just how much he could forget about the books.
Wesley prepared himself. "First one to the yellow buoy gets first choice on teammates!" His feet planted firmly into the sand and he was running past Gunn. The sounds of laughter carried around them as they all followed close behind.
Gregarious laughter escaped his throat. He made a dash over a small wave and his eyes widened briefly as his left ankle stepped over the other and he flew face first into the water. Hands touched flat against the wet sand and he coughed. Slowly he lifted his face and looked up to the group of four staring down in amusement.
Alright, he thought, maybe not the first one.