There wasn't even that small shiver which usually went through him at Giles touch. This had nothing to do with his partner, however. It had anything to do with Wesley himself. When had been the last time he'd been so effected... Oh, right. Not all that long ago, now that he thought about it. It would appear he'd not changed that much after all
( ... )
Giles found it almost physically painful to let Wesley go that way, so upset, his voice so flat. Still, he had to make his calls and it would be easier if Wesley weren't there. He only hoped that what he had planned might restore some of the garden's charm. They'd been married there, after all, and Giles wasn't about to let the place go.
It went quickly. He called Xander first, since he knew he could catch him at home on the weekend. Xander listened intently and then thought for a moment before saying he thought the job could be done in about four hours, if he had enough help. Giles thanked him profusely, especially for volunteering to call the others, and then quickly hung up and went to find Wesley.
Wesley had slowly made his way up the stairs and into the library where he'd have the best chance of finding a box. He tried to drag his mind away from the garden for now. Part of him wanted to run, just to make certain that Giles wasn't alone for a minute. But a larger part of him knew this was ridiculous. They were in their own bloody home for gods sake.
That didn't stop your father from shooting him, now did it?Suddenly feeling incredibly cold, something in his chest tightening, Wesley sped up his pace. That though only made his headache, his worry worse. Storming into the library, - and he half expected to find it utterly destroyed as well, which was a stupid thought -, he didn't pause for a second and started to look for a box
( ... )
Giles met Wesley as he was coming out of the library. There was an expression on Wesley's face that was close to panic and Giles didn't pause, or even slow his pace, as he took the box from Wes, tossed it aside, and wrapped his arms around Wes.
"I hope you don't mind," he said in a soft tone, laying his forehead on Wesley's shoulder. "But I don't think I can let you leave my sight for the rest of the day, at least" He tried to make it sound funny and failed, because it wasn't. On the way upstairs he'd thought of nothing but another time he'd climbed those stairs, of what he'd found at the top.
The image of Roger Wyndam-Pryce, pointing a gun at Wes . . . It was still too vivid not to knot his stomach, to push his heart into his throat.
Wesley had to move the books around in the trunk several times just to make sure they wouldn't be damaged. It took him longer then he'd liked, but his love for books wouldn't let him just close the trunk and let them be. It as perhaps an annoying trade for some, but at least it was normal. For him and Giles that was
( ... )
"Hmm? No, everything's fine." Giles put the phone down and glance around the room. He was certain he'd seen that drawing somewhere. "Oh! Your drawing's somewhere on the table. I remember seeing it as I gathered books. It should be with the books we need, actually."
Moving past Wesley, running his hand along his lover's arm as he did, Giles went to look for the pad of paper.
Narrowing his eyes, Wesley looked at Giles scrutinizing. He tried to asses if his lover was telling the truth, but since the man was apparently already otherwise occupied, this seemed to be the case. Still, Wesley wasn't going to let him out of his sight for longer then a few seconds. He even debated joining the man if he had to go to the bathroom, but then quickly chastised himself for being stupid. He could wait close by anyway.
Mustering up a smile for Giles as the man rubbed his hand over his arm, he quickly followed his lover to the kitchen. He picked up the pad of paper and the rest of the books while Giles picked the last ones. One last glance was cast around the kitchen to make sure they had everything before they turned to leave.
Wesley scooped up the box with the damn doll in it as he followed Giles out to the car. He shifted the books and the box in his arms, locked the door and then followed Giles to deposit his load in the back of the car as well. "Do you wish to drive or shall I?" he asked, holding up the car keys.
Giles realized that acting jumpy was not the best way to reassure Wesley that nothing was wrong. Resolving to keep himself under control, Giles turned his mind to packing the car, setting aside Wes' notebook when he found it. With the car soon packed, the books ready for the short drive, Giles smiled at his partner and took the keys.
"I'd very much like to drive while you're awake enough to instruct me on the uses of the buttons," he said with a smile, kissing Wesley's cheek as he slipped past and into the driver's seat.
Mustering up another smile for his lover, this one a bit more real in reaction to the one Giles gave, Wesley nodded. Now, if only it would help him as well as it did Giles. If only he could believe his own words.
The point was that the only thing they knew now, was that they had been watched. Were being watched. They had no idea by whom though. And that thought annoyed him more then anything. Because it meant he still didn't know how to protect Giles. Or more specifically, from whom. He'd just have to keep his eyes wide open and on Giles at all times.
"Why don't we go and do a little bit more research," he tried, hoping the books wouldn't let them down. They've always been somewhat of a safety net for Wesley. If there was a problem, the books would know the answers. Of course he literally cut himself with that assumption in the past, so he was very careful.
"What's with the noise?" Anya's voice came from just outside the door. "Are you two having 'fun' in there?"
Giles rolled his eyes at Anya's question, hastily shoving the doll and the piece that had broken off of it, back into the box. "I dropped something, Anya," he replied in an exasperated tone. The box was quickly hidden once again and he nodded to Wesley, following his partner out into the shop proper again.
"If you say so," Anya gave them an insinuating smile before going back to her dusting of the herb jars. "But you two really should try having sex back there. That pommel horse thing is--"
"Please don't give us details," Giles said, reaching up to pull off his glasses and rub at his eyes. "I really don't need the mental images the next time Buffy's training, thank you."
Anya shrugged and Giles put his glasses back on, turning to the books. They had more to research now. The spell itself could provide clues and so they'd have to look up structure descriptions. They had the footprint Wesley had sketched as well and that could help a great deal.
Raising his eyebrow at Anya, and more specifically at the knowing grin and wink she send his way, Wesley shook his head. That girl, though calling a thousand year old former demon a girl was probably not quite right, was a mystery to him. Normally he liked to unravel mysteries, but he gladly was going to leave this one alone.
Sighing, he trailed after Giles out of the room and over to the table where they had deposited the books. He sank down in a chair, pulled one of the books over and got ready to begin. The moment he opened one of the books though, he noticed a small flaw in his plan.
He squinted at the text, tried to concentrate, but the letters really were too small. A glance over at the other books told him that there really weren't any 'big letter books' in the stack. "Bloody hell," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose frustrated. Without his glasses, he wasn't going to be much help. Part of him wondered if this was all one big conspiracy.
"Damn." Reaching over to lay his hand on Wesley's leg, Giles shook his head. "Well, I suppose that settles what we'll be doing today. It shouldn't take long to get a replacement pair, unless . . ." Giles realized that Wesley probably hadn't had an actual eye examine in quite a while either, which probably meant they'd want to do one before they'd replace his glasses. "We're going to have to get you a chain to hang them on."
As inconvenient as the timing was . . . it would be a good deal easier to do the research with Wesley helping him and . . . Well, technically Giles didn't have to go along. He could stay behind and research, but . . . he didn't actually want to let Wesley out of his sight.
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It went quickly. He called Xander first, since he knew he could catch him at home on the weekend. Xander listened intently and then thought for a moment before saying he thought the job could be done in about four hours, if he had enough help. Giles thanked him profusely, especially for volunteering to call the others, and then quickly hung up and went to find Wesley.
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That didn't stop your father from shooting him, now did it?Suddenly feeling incredibly cold, something in his chest tightening, Wesley sped up his pace. That though only made his headache, his worry worse. Storming into the library, - and he half expected to find it utterly destroyed as well, which was a stupid thought -, he didn't pause for a second and started to look for a box ( ... )
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"I hope you don't mind," he said in a soft tone, laying his forehead on Wesley's shoulder. "But I don't think I can let you leave my sight for the rest of the day, at least" He tried to make it sound funny and failed, because it wasn't. On the way upstairs he'd thought of nothing but another time he'd climbed those stairs, of what he'd found at the top.
The image of Roger Wyndam-Pryce, pointing a gun at Wes . . . It was still too vivid not to knot his stomach, to push his heart into his throat.
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Moving past Wesley, running his hand along his lover's arm as he did, Giles went to look for the pad of paper.
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Mustering up a smile for Giles as the man rubbed his hand over his arm, he quickly followed his lover to the kitchen. He picked up the pad of paper and the rest of the books while Giles picked the last ones. One last glance was cast around the kitchen to make sure they had everything before they turned to leave.
Wesley scooped up the box with the damn doll in it as he followed Giles out to the car. He shifted the books and the box in his arms, locked the door and then followed Giles to deposit his load in the back of the car as well. "Do you wish to drive or shall I?" he asked, holding up the car keys.
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"I'd very much like to drive while you're awake enough to instruct me on the uses of the buttons," he said with a smile, kissing Wesley's cheek as he slipped past and into the driver's seat.
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The point was that the only thing they knew now, was that they had been watched. Were being watched. They had no idea by whom though. And that thought annoyed him more then anything. Because it meant he still didn't know how to protect Giles. Or more specifically, from whom. He'd just have to keep his eyes wide open and on Giles at all times.
"Why don't we go and do a little bit more research," he tried, hoping the books wouldn't let them down. They've always been somewhat of a safety net for Wesley. If there was a problem, the books would know the answers. Of course he literally cut himself with that assumption in the past, so he was very careful.
"What's with the noise?" Anya's voice came from just outside the door. "Are you two having 'fun' in there?"
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"If you say so," Anya gave them an insinuating smile before going back to her dusting of the herb jars. "But you two really should try having sex back there. That pommel horse thing is--"
"Please don't give us details," Giles said, reaching up to pull off his glasses and rub at his eyes. "I really don't need the mental images the next time Buffy's training, thank you."
Anya shrugged and Giles put his glasses back on, turning to the books. They had more to research now. The spell itself could provide clues and so they'd have to look up structure descriptions. They had the footprint Wesley had sketched as well and that could help a great deal.
"Let's get started."
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Sighing, he trailed after Giles out of the room and over to the table where they had deposited the books. He sank down in a chair, pulled one of the books over and got ready to begin. The moment he opened one of the books though, he noticed a small flaw in his plan.
He squinted at the text, tried to concentrate, but the letters really were too small. A glance over at the other books told him that there really weren't any 'big letter books' in the stack. "Bloody hell," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose frustrated. Without his glasses, he wasn't going to be much help. Part of him wondered if this was all one big conspiracy.
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"Damn." Reaching over to lay his hand on Wesley's leg, Giles shook his head. "Well, I suppose that settles what we'll be doing today. It shouldn't take long to get a replacement pair, unless . . ." Giles realized that Wesley probably hadn't had an actual eye examine in quite a while either, which probably meant they'd want to do one before they'd replace his glasses. "We're going to have to get you a chain to hang them on."
As inconvenient as the timing was . . . it would be a good deal easier to do the research with Wesley helping him and . . . Well, technically Giles didn't have to go along. He could stay behind and research, but . . . he didn't actually want to let Wesley out of his sight.
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