AtS ficlet: in the shadow of two gunmen
title: in the shadow of two gunmen
~dislaimed
char: Wesley, Angel
A/n: sort of babyfic? more angst than cooing, though. for tamsinwillougby <3
Somehow, having spent years in the Los Angeles swamp of demon excrement doesn’t make the human variety any more tolerable.
He realizes this as Angel plops Connor on his desk to do a diaper change.
When the others gather around the baby, Wesley stays back. He rationalizes to himself that he doesn’t know much about kids, that Gunn had a sister and cousins, and Cordelia seems to have mystically absorbed Darla’s glow. He’s better utilized elsewhere.
But Angel tries to include him, comes in flaunting Connor and babbling away as incomprehensibly as the infant or the three goon demons he and Gunn were forced to ward away from the hotel last night.
“You can hold him, if you want,” Angel says, graciousness bursting from every syllable, then turns down to the baby. “Want to go to Uncle Wes? Yeah, you like Uncle Wes, don’t you?”and shoves the baby into his arms.
It’s stunning, this tiny lump in the epicenter of the dimensions looking to swallow it whole.
“Uncle Wes?” he blurts out before he can stop himself.
“Well, yeah,” Angel gives one of his rare laughs - Wesley could swear even the baby stared - and though his heart swells, the blood it pumps is cold when Angel continues. “Not like my brothers are around,” and laughs again.
Wesley makes himself smile, looks down at the baby and out the window and at his scribbling piling up in front of the desk, and at Angel, who’s grinning proudly at restraining himself from not sweeping the baby back.
He startles when Cordelia yelps. “Angel, please-“
The demon cult that had come to claim Darla and her Miracle Child are drowning their disappointment at St. Mary’s.
“Why do you think the powers want us to stop ‘em? Think they’re still after Connor?”
“I think the Powers know an ICU unit’s not supposed to be a consolation prize.”
“Cordy!” they both shout at the same time. Wes can’t give the baby over fast enough. Angel and Gunn swoop out the door.
“Yes, Uncle Wesley,” Cordelia teases, “I have the doctor’s number and I know exactly where you’ll be-“
“St. Cecilia’s in Boyle Heights,” he tells her quietly. “The Mother Superior knows about everything.” Cordy starts to protest. “Just in case.”
“It’ll be fine,” she promises, and he almost believes it.
You are a fool, blinded by love, he chides himself as he grabs his axe and runs out the door.
~dislaimed
char: Wesley, Angel
A/n: sort of babyfic? more angst than cooing, though. for tamsinwillougby <3
Somehow, having spent years in the Los Angeles swamp of demon excrement doesn’t make the human variety any more tolerable.
He realizes this as Angel plops Connor on his desk to do a diaper change.
When the others gather around the baby, Wesley stays back. He rationalizes to himself that he doesn’t know much about kids, that Gunn had a sister and cousins, and Cordelia seems to have mystically absorbed Darla’s glow. He’s better utilized elsewhere.
But Angel tries to include him, comes in flaunting Connor and babbling away as incomprehensibly as the infant or the three goon demons he and Gunn were forced to ward away from the hotel last night.
“You can hold him, if you want,” Angel says, graciousness bursting from every syllable, then turns down to the baby. “Want to go to Uncle Wes? Yeah, you like Uncle Wes, don’t you?”and shoves the baby into his arms.
It’s stunning, this tiny lump in the epicenter of the dimensions looking to swallow it whole.
“Uncle Wes?” he blurts out before he can stop himself.
“Well, yeah,” Angel gives one of his rare laughs - Wesley could swear even the baby stared - and though his heart swells, the blood it pumps is cold when Angel continues. “Not like my brothers are around,” and laughs again.
Wesley makes himself smile, looks down at the baby and out the window and at his scribbling piling up in front of the desk, and at Angel, who’s grinning proudly at restraining himself from not sweeping the baby back.
He startles when Cordelia yelps. “Angel, please-“
The demon cult that had come to claim Darla and her Miracle Child are drowning their disappointment at St. Mary’s.
“Why do you think the powers want us to stop ‘em? Think they’re still after Connor?”
“I think the Powers know an ICU unit’s not supposed to be a consolation prize.”
“Cordy!” they both shout at the same time. Wes can’t give the baby over fast enough. Angel and Gunn swoop out the door.
“Yes, Uncle Wesley,” Cordelia teases, “I have the doctor’s number and I know exactly where you’ll be-“
“St. Cecilia’s in Boyle Heights,” he tells her quietly. “The Mother Superior knows about everything.” Cordy starts to protest. “Just in case.”
“It’ll be fine,” she promises, and he almost believes it.
You are a fool, blinded by love, he chides himself as he grabs his axe and runs out the door.