"I know where it is," Giles commented, opening the door and motioning for Wesley to precede him. "It's on the other side of the mall from the book store, across the way from the music store."
Reaching over, Giles slid his hand into Wesley's, gently tugging his lover's hand down to get Wesley to stop chewing on his thumbnail. He gave Wesley a tired smile and shook his head.
"Don't start that again, love." Giles said in a low voice, "I rather like your hands the way they are." Winking at his partner, Giles nodded in the direction they'd need to go.
Wesley nodded at to where the optician was. He had no idea it was actually there. Perhaps he should start paying better attention to his surrounding other then keeping his eyes open for demons. Or any other kind of danger. Or the quickest way out of here, though that was very important as well.
He gave his lover a startled look as the man took his hand and tugged it away from where it was. Which was, apparently, in his mouth chewing off the thumbnail. Blinking at that, he glanced down at his hand and shrugged. He of course hadn't even known he was doing that. Again.
"I doubt there would be much difference with or without a thumbnail," he muttered, eyes darting around. This wasn't Paris. And as much as he'd like *not* to care that they were getting odd looks, they were making him nervous.
Ignoring the few glances they'd received, Giles kept his voice pitched low, smiling as he said, "Fingernails can make quite a bit of difference, actually. Yours usually do." Giles didn't mention that they usually 'made a difference' to his back, or hips or . . . Wesley probably melt into a puddle of embarrassed goo if he did. As it was, no one around them could have heard Giles.
Still smiling, Giles turned and began to lead the way to the optician. He'd remembered his books from the car, but he still rather hoped this wouldn't take long. There were more important things Wesley and he could be spending their time on.
"My usually...huh?" His fingernails could make quite a difference? Raising an eyebrow, Wesley gave Giles a confused look. He had no idea what the man meant with that. He brought up his other hand and stared at nails there as Giles tugged him along. For some reason, they didn't provide the answer as to why his nails would make any kind of difference.
Clearing his throat, I dropped the hand and looked around again. Still with the looks. Damn, they really weren't in Paris anymore were they? Wesley ducked his head so he'd not have to see them, but refused to take his hand out of Giles grasp. No matter how nervous it made him. He was very glad when his lover announced that the store was right up ahead.
He lifted his head and nodded. Giles had to let go of his hand to open the door. Giving his lover a small smile, he stepped inside as Giles motioned for him to go first and glanced around the place. Oh, he'd forgotten how many different frames there were. Bloody hell.
Wesley didn't bother to correct Giles. He'd not meant the frame had been heavier, but the lenses were heavier. That was going to take some time to get used to. A rather blurry world, he also noticed, had a very pleasant side effect. When he nearly tripped for a third time over something he'd not seen on time, he reached out and took a hold of Giles hand
( ... )
Wesley's faux-amused tone didn't fool him one bit, but Giles thought it better not to mention that at the moment. He guided Wesley to the car and opened the door of his partner before going to get in on the driver's side.
"I know, love," Giles said, reaching over to pat Wesley's knee and leaving his hand there as he drove back toward the shop. "It really could have been worse, though." We have to talk to Connor now. Giles thought with a sigh. That was, in his opinion, much worse. He'd have gone in for an eye examine a hundred times over if it meant they didn't have to send the boy away.
Of course things could be worse. Someone might come over and jump his lover. And because of this stupid eye examination he could do very little other then strike out blindly. He was quite glad they were going to meet Connor. Not that he was looking forward to the talk, but because he knew the boy would be able to help him protect Giles. And Anya, mustn't forget about the girl. Wesley had a feeling she could kick some serious butt. Literally if needed.
Putting his hand over Giles' he squeezed the man's hand and plucked his glasses off again. It was an automatic gesture he didn't even notice as he folded them up and put them in the breastpocket of his shirt. "I know, love," he said quietly, squeezing his lover's hand. Hesitating for only a split second, he then leaned in and kissed his lover’s temple before the man drove off.
At least, he thought it was Giles temple. It was his lover's skin he tasted, so it didn't matter much. Sighing, he sat back in his seat again as they drove back toward the shop.
Giles found himself smiling rather absurdly over Wesley's quick kiss. He glanced over at his partner and shook his head, still smiling. "You'll never get used to your glasses if you don't wear them," he commented, squeezing Wes' knee.
He wasn't looking forward to having to keep an eye on Wesley and whether or not his lover was wearing his glasses, but it was necessary. Besides, if he could get Wesley to remember for himself, things would go a lot smoother.
"Willow's car. Connor's here," Giles said as he pulled up to the Magic Box.
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.
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Reaching over, Giles slid his hand into Wesley's, gently tugging his lover's hand down to get Wesley to stop chewing on his thumbnail. He gave Wesley a tired smile and shook his head.
"Don't start that again, love." Giles said in a low voice, "I rather like your hands the way they are." Winking at his partner, Giles nodded in the direction they'd need to go.
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He gave his lover a startled look as the man took his hand and tugged it away from where it was. Which was, apparently, in his mouth chewing off the thumbnail. Blinking at that, he glanced down at his hand and shrugged. He of course hadn't even known he was doing that. Again.
"I doubt there would be much difference with or without a thumbnail," he muttered, eyes darting around. This wasn't Paris. And as much as he'd like *not* to care that they were getting odd looks, they were making him nervous.
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Still smiling, Giles turned and began to lead the way to the optician. He'd remembered his books from the car, but he still rather hoped this wouldn't take long. There were more important things Wesley and he could be spending their time on.
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"My usually...huh?" His fingernails could make quite a difference? Raising an eyebrow, Wesley gave Giles a confused look. He had no idea what the man meant with that. He brought up his other hand and stared at nails there as Giles tugged him along. For some reason, they didn't provide the answer as to why his nails would make any kind of difference.
Clearing his throat, I dropped the hand and looked around again. Still with the looks. Damn, they really weren't in Paris anymore were they? Wesley ducked his head so he'd not have to see them, but refused to take his hand out of Giles grasp. No matter how nervous it made him. He was very glad when his lover announced that the store was right up ahead.
He lifted his head and nodded. Giles had to let go of his hand to open the door. Giving his lover a small smile, he stepped inside as Giles motioned for him to go first and glanced around the place. Oh, he'd forgotten how many different frames there were. Bloody hell.
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"I know, love," Giles said, reaching over to pat Wesley's knee and leaving his hand there as he drove back toward the shop. "It really could have been worse, though." We have to talk to Connor now. Giles thought with a sigh. That was, in his opinion, much worse. He'd have gone in for an eye examine a hundred times over if it meant they didn't have to send the boy away.
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Putting his hand over Giles' he squeezed the man's hand and plucked his glasses off again. It was an automatic gesture he didn't even notice as he folded them up and put them in the breastpocket of his shirt. "I know, love," he said quietly, squeezing his lover's hand. Hesitating for only a split second, he then leaned in and kissed his lover’s temple before the man drove off.
At least, he thought it was Giles temple. It was his lover's skin he tasted, so it didn't matter much. Sighing, he sat back in his seat again as they drove back toward the shop.
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He wasn't looking forward to having to keep an eye on Wesley and whether or not his lover was wearing his glasses, but it was necessary. Besides, if he could get Wesley to remember for himself, things would go a lot smoother.
"Willow's car. Connor's here," Giles said as he pulled up to the Magic Box.
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"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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