Putting the tray down on a small table in the corner of the room, Wesley sank gratefully into the chair next to it. The trip to the kitchenette had not been that bad. He discovered it just past Sarah and Angel's rooms by following the smell of coffee he picked up as he passed the nurse's station.
He was absurdly proud that he had not asked for directions.
Rupert was dozing comfortably in the chair beside his bed, looking both exhausted and peaceful. It seemed the tenderness he felt earlier for the man was increasing. This is more than just attraction - and phermones.
He did not want to call it love - it was far too soon for that - but there was the distinct possibility that he could love this man. It was seeming slightly less terrifying, but only just
( ... )
"All right, that's that," Wesley said, reaching over and taking Giles' cup from his hand. "Off you go."
"I suppose you're right. Could we discuss avenues of research tomorrow? I'd like to run it by someone who has been doing research recently as most of my team is a bit...antiquated, though that's not always all bad. But one or two of them ramble a bit
( ... )
Giles watched Wesley's mouth move toward his own, the man's lips parted, his breathing seeming to have picked up to the same rate as Giles' own. It seemed so slow, or maybe his heartbeat was just rushing very quickly, or both
( ... )
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
( ... )
"Is that the problem? Tired of being on the bloody leash? That why you hidin' in the dog house? Or is it that you're scared to come out to play?"
"Shut up, Spike, you don't know a thing about it." Angel stopped, retrieved his shoes and headed for the door. Spike intercepted him on the other side of the fountain, getting right in Angel's face.
"That's the real problem, idn't it? Afraid to come out to play. You made your choice and played your hand, and a lot of good people - people you cared about - were lost. We're fighting a war against evil, mate. It's bound to happen. Don't make it hurt any less. But we all knew what we signed up for
( ... )
Wes was in the lab when Spike walked in. He hated seen the man in a few days, though he knew Spike had come to visit Sarah once or twice. Angel wouldn't talk about why Spike was no longer hanging around and Wesley had assumed they'd fought
( ... )
"Oh, ah, Spike, as flattered as I am that you think I might be able to...we just don't have that sort of friendship."
"Wot? The kind where you tell him he's being a thick skulled git who can't see two inches in front of him? Yeah, ya do. Seen it."
"Um, the thing is, we really don't talk about our...love lives. Got rather off on the wrong foot with that one, I'm afraid. I suppose it all started when I was impersonating him." He paused to consider this.
"Wait. What? You impersonated Angel?" His voice turned gleeful, "Did you use the hair gel, then? Flounce about brooding
( ... )
"Hi! You must be Angel. I'm Sarah." She giggled a little. "The Slayer. Geez, that always sounds so silly. Sarah the Slayer. Good thing I don't have a lisp! I'm only a slayer now, but you know what I mean. And I'm babbling, which I do when I barge into strange vampire's rooms. Not that you're strange
( ... )
"Hey, you're tired," he said abruptly, sounding terribly guilty. He'd finally noticed that she was shaking slightly, and her breath was coming in short, painful gasps. "I'm sorry, please have a seat. Or do you want me to walk you to your room
( ... )
Yes, the schoolbody idiocy is in full effect. Giles had raced home from the office, showered, shaved and stood in front of the closet fretting over what to wear. It wasn't as if Wes hadn't seen him nearly every day, and never really commented on his appearence - except for that one time when he told Giles he was handsome.
He was definately hoping for another kiss like they shared a few weeks ago, and with Wes's sensitive fingers, that meant wearing something pleasant to the touch. Giles flushed a little in anticipation, remembering that marvellous kiss.
Even a light wool sweater might be too scratchy against Wes' skin, and he wanted it to be perfect in every way. Cotton? Too mundane. Suede? Too hot, really, nearly summer. Silk? Too formal, and too Angel. He shuddered delicately.
He finally remembered a sweater Willow had given him for his birthday. He'd had so little opportunity to wear casual clothes since he began working with the Council again, and it was too lightweight really, for the colder months. There it is
( ... )
Comments 45
He was absurdly proud that he had not asked for directions.
Rupert was dozing comfortably in the chair beside his bed, looking both exhausted and peaceful. It seemed the tenderness he felt earlier for the man was increasing. This is more than just attraction - and phermones.
He did not want to call it love - it was far too soon for that - but there was the distinct possibility that he could love this man. It was seeming slightly less terrifying, but only just ( ... )
Reply
Reply
"I suppose you're right. Could we discuss avenues of research tomorrow? I'd like to run it by someone who has been doing research recently as most of my team is a bit...antiquated, though that's not always all bad. But one or two of them ramble a bit ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
"Shut up, Spike, you don't know a thing about it." Angel stopped, retrieved his shoes and headed for the door. Spike intercepted him on the other side of the fountain, getting right in Angel's face.
"That's the real problem, idn't it? Afraid to come out to play. You made your choice and played your hand, and a lot of good people - people you cared about - were lost. We're fighting a war against evil, mate. It's bound to happen. Don't make it hurt any less. But we all knew what we signed up for ( ... )
Reply
Reply
"Wot? The kind where you tell him he's being a thick skulled git who can't see two inches in front of him? Yeah, ya do. Seen it."
"Um, the thing is, we really don't talk about our...love lives. Got rather off on the wrong foot with that one, I'm afraid. I suppose it all started when I was impersonating him." He paused to consider this.
"Wait. What? You impersonated Angel?" His voice turned gleeful, "Did you use the hair gel, then? Flounce about brooding ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
He was definately hoping for another kiss like they shared a few weeks ago, and with Wes's sensitive fingers, that meant wearing something pleasant to the touch. Giles flushed a little in anticipation, remembering that marvellous kiss.
Even a light wool sweater might be too scratchy against Wes' skin, and he wanted it to be perfect in every way. Cotton? Too mundane. Suede? Too hot, really, nearly summer. Silk? Too formal, and too Angel. He shuddered delicately.
He finally remembered a sweater Willow had given him for his birthday. He'd had so little opportunity to wear casual clothes since he began working with the Council again, and it was too lightweight really, for the colder months. There it is ( ... )
Reply
Leave a comment