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thebratqueenNot any of my earlier-mentioned plot bunnies, but here's a new fic for y'all to enjoy. It's a one-off, Angel/Wesley.
Wesley Gets
By The Brat Queen
Disclaimer: Not mine. All Joss Whedon's, Mutant Enemy's, 20th Century Fox's and all that sort of thing. 'tis but a non-profit, amateur effort, and y'all would need to get in line to sue me anyway.
Rated: PG
Summary: Wesley gets a few things that make life worthwhile.
***
Wesley got a cat.
It was a gray striped thing, which matched perfectly with Wes's apartment. Which was great from a decorative standpoint, but not as great if you liked sitting on Wesley's furniture. Gunn had almost flattened the animal twice when he mistook it for a pillow, and Angel kept going back to the hotel to find stray hairs covering his black pants in less than stylish places. Angel solved the problem by standing around awkwardly whenever he could get away with it. It didn't differ much from when he sat around awkwardly, so nobody commented on it, although Cordy did roll her eyes about it once or twice.
Wes named the cat Phillip, claiming it was the proper British thing to do. Cordy had immediately rechristened him "Sweetie" and claimed it was the more appropriate thing to do. Gunn and Wesley both had raised a fuss about treating the cat as though it were a girl, but Cordy had countered by pointing out that after you neutered something a girly name didn't make much of a difference anyway.
That had led to everybody looking at *him* and then changing the subject.
Angel had actually gone with Wesley to pick the creature out. He wasn't sure why, although Wes's explanation was that he needed a car and Gunn's truck didn't have enough room inside for a proper carrier. So on a vision-free night after work, they went to one of the local shelters under the safety of twilight, and Wes walked his way up and down the rows of cages, looking the selection over.
"You know dogs are nice," Angel had told him, for lack of anything else to offer to the conversation.
"True," Wesley had agreed, "but hardly autonomous. I need something that can take care of itself if I'm away from the flat for the night because of some demon."
"Could get a big dog," Angel had said. "Train it to fight."
"I could," Wesley had replied, "but my landlord forbids any animal taller than a foot, and I somehow doubt we can successfully intimidate the forces of darkness with a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, however viciously it might lick."
That had made Angel chuckle, which in turn had made Wesley smile.
It was a nice evening.
Wes had taken his time picking something out, although in the end he'd chosen the third cat on the list. It had swatted playfully at his fingers, and when Wesley picked it up it immediately curled up against his chest and purred. The shelter said it was housebroken, and already neutered. Wesley had said it was perfect.
When they drove back to Wes's place, they put the carrier into the backseat. Wes spent the entire drive twisted around, doing his best to talk soothingly to it. Angel watched him out of the corner of his eye, and thought that the way things were, Wes could probably soothe anybody. His voice had gotten an interesting cadence to it ever since he'd been placed in charge. Almost as though he wasn't fighting his own vocal cords anymore. It worked like magic with Cordy's visions and some of their more nervous clients.
It was the same as all of Wes, really. Being around him no longer made Angel feel tense and worried - as though he had to watch everything he did or said or else Wes would break. Instead it was relaxing, and even kind of fun. Sometimes Angel found himself picturing Wesley in two ways. The first was the old Wesley: angular and clumsy, literally covered with clanky metal armor that hindered him more than it protected.
The second was Wes as he was now. Plain, settled in his own skin, and radiating strength from the inside. Angel figured that the cat must've picked up on that, because even though it would spend time with all of them, it would ultimately go back to Wesley, touching him in some way even if it was just with a single paw, and only then would it close its eyes and purr.
Phillip was an outgoing cat, which made for an interesting combination with his comparatively reserved owner. Angel and Wes got into the habit of talking on the phone every night, and every time Angel could hear Phillip meowing in the background.
"He wants attention," Wes had explained. "He doesn't understand that I'm actually talking to the inanimate object in my hand."
"Gee, thanks," Angel had replied, and that made Wes laugh.
Phillip's nature proved to be both a blessing and a curse. Wes claimed to be happy with a pet that was so attentive and playful, however he also complained at times of how hard it was to get any work done.
Which was why Angel found himself at Wes's apartment one night, being asked to play babysitter.
"I'm supposed to do what?" Angel asked.
"Keep him company," Wes told him. He dug around in a desk drawer and thrust the results in Angel's direction. Angel found himself cupping a handful of rubber mice and balls with bells in them. "He'll make a racket unless someone's watching him, and I can't get any work done if he's yelling his head off."
"So come back to the hotel," Angel said. He noticed Phillip sitting at his feet, and he moved a few steps away. The cat followed. "I mean - you've got an office there, right?"
"Yes," Wesley said as he popped open his laptop, "but all of my texts are here, as are you. I can get this done much faster if you'd just chip in."
"But I - " Angel glanced down. The cat was staring at him. Angel looked back at Wes. "I don't know how to do this."
Wesley came over and took one of the balls out of Angel's hand, holding it up for inspection. "Do you see this? Hurl it with some kind of velocity anywhere you like that isn't towards something breakable or, god forbid, an open window. Allow him to catch it, then throw it again when he brings it back. If he loses it, throw another. If he doesn't care for it, pet him. It's really not that complicated."
Wes finished off the explanation by throwing the ball. The cat ran after it with a thunder of feet. Wes looked at Angel as though that proved his point, and returned to his computer to get to work.
Angel watched the cat uncertainly. "I've never done this before."
"You're over two hundred years old. You can learn."
Angel suddenly thought of a possible way out. "Actually - I *did* have pets before. But they kinda ended up dead."
"Really?" Wes said, not even looking at him. "Well then do whatever the opposite of that was and I'm sure you'll be fine."
Angel sighed and threw another ball.
Hours later Wesley rescued him. He scooped the cat off of the floor and wrapped his arms around it, scratching it behind the ears. The cat began purring at once, ducking its head under Wesley's chin and rubbing his paws against Wesley's sweater.
Angel observed all of this with a mixture of pleasure and relief. "Done?"
"Yes," Wesley sat down on the couch beside him. He shifted his hold so that Phillip could slide down and turn belly-up in his lap. "That took longer than I thought and I daresay I'd never like to attempt it again. There's a good reason why I never spent much time attempting to learn Camdarian back in university. Dreadfully boring language."
"Never liked it much myself," Angel admitted. He watched Wes's hand as it moved through Phillip's fur, making the cat stretch and squirm happily. He found himself lacking something to say again. "But - still - gotta be nice to be finished."
"Yes," Wesley agreed, "it is."
The room went quiet again, except for purring. Angel found his gaze drawn to the claws that moved in and out of Wes's sweater. He wondered if they were pricking Wes's skin.
He wasn't sure why he did it. Maybe it was impulse, a need to do it before he lost his courage. Maybe it was instinct, a desire to see what was behind the hours-long phone conversations and the strange, animal-related requests. Or maybe the silence had gone on for too long and he couldn't think of anything else to do. But whatever the reason why, he leaned forward and he kissed Wes.
It took a moment. Wes's glasses were definitely in the way. The cat made a noise of protest. But then it was the nice sensation of lips on lips, and Wes wasn't pulling away, which made it even nicer.
When they finally moved apart, Wes was staring at him. He fixed his glasses with a single hand, the other still petting the cat's fur.
"Um - " Angel faltered. "I - um - I mean the thing is - "
Wesley laughed. It was the good kind, where his eyes lit up and he ducked his head. "I was wondering if you were ever going to do that."
"Really?"
"Really," Wes looked back up again. "Or do you think I spend this much time with everyone in my acquaintance?"
Angel shrugged. He'd wanted that to be the case, but things he wanted rarely came true. "Wasn't sure. Kinda liked you not dating anybody though."
"I wonder why?" Wesley said, bemused. He gave the cat one last pet, then shooed it onto the floor. He reached out and touched Angel's chest, and suddenly Angel knew why that kind of thing made Phillip stretch and purr. "But tell me - are you going to do it again?"
Angel leaned into the touch. "Want me to?"
"Definitely."
Which was how, not long after getting the cat, Wesley got a boyfriend.
Fin.
Wesley Gets
By The Brat Queen
Disclaimer: Not mine. All Joss Whedon's, Mutant Enemy's, 20th Century Fox's and all that sort of thing. 'tis but a non-profit, amateur effort, and y'all would need to get in line to sue me anyway.
Rated: PG
Summary: Wesley gets a few things that make life worthwhile.
***
Wesley got a cat.
It was a gray striped thing, which matched perfectly with Wes's apartment. Which was great from a decorative standpoint, but not as great if you liked sitting on Wesley's furniture. Gunn had almost flattened the animal twice when he mistook it for a pillow, and Angel kept going back to the hotel to find stray hairs covering his black pants in less than stylish places. Angel solved the problem by standing around awkwardly whenever he could get away with it. It didn't differ much from when he sat around awkwardly, so nobody commented on it, although Cordy did roll her eyes about it once or twice.
Wes named the cat Phillip, claiming it was the proper British thing to do. Cordy had immediately rechristened him "Sweetie" and claimed it was the more appropriate thing to do. Gunn and Wesley both had raised a fuss about treating the cat as though it were a girl, but Cordy had countered by pointing out that after you neutered something a girly name didn't make much of a difference anyway.
That had led to everybody looking at *him* and then changing the subject.
Angel had actually gone with Wesley to pick the creature out. He wasn't sure why, although Wes's explanation was that he needed a car and Gunn's truck didn't have enough room inside for a proper carrier. So on a vision-free night after work, they went to one of the local shelters under the safety of twilight, and Wes walked his way up and down the rows of cages, looking the selection over.
"You know dogs are nice," Angel had told him, for lack of anything else to offer to the conversation.
"True," Wesley had agreed, "but hardly autonomous. I need something that can take care of itself if I'm away from the flat for the night because of some demon."
"Could get a big dog," Angel had said. "Train it to fight."
"I could," Wesley had replied, "but my landlord forbids any animal taller than a foot, and I somehow doubt we can successfully intimidate the forces of darkness with a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, however viciously it might lick."
That had made Angel chuckle, which in turn had made Wesley smile.
It was a nice evening.
Wes had taken his time picking something out, although in the end he'd chosen the third cat on the list. It had swatted playfully at his fingers, and when Wesley picked it up it immediately curled up against his chest and purred. The shelter said it was housebroken, and already neutered. Wesley had said it was perfect.
When they drove back to Wes's place, they put the carrier into the backseat. Wes spent the entire drive twisted around, doing his best to talk soothingly to it. Angel watched him out of the corner of his eye, and thought that the way things were, Wes could probably soothe anybody. His voice had gotten an interesting cadence to it ever since he'd been placed in charge. Almost as though he wasn't fighting his own vocal cords anymore. It worked like magic with Cordy's visions and some of their more nervous clients.
It was the same as all of Wes, really. Being around him no longer made Angel feel tense and worried - as though he had to watch everything he did or said or else Wes would break. Instead it was relaxing, and even kind of fun. Sometimes Angel found himself picturing Wesley in two ways. The first was the old Wesley: angular and clumsy, literally covered with clanky metal armor that hindered him more than it protected.
The second was Wes as he was now. Plain, settled in his own skin, and radiating strength from the inside. Angel figured that the cat must've picked up on that, because even though it would spend time with all of them, it would ultimately go back to Wesley, touching him in some way even if it was just with a single paw, and only then would it close its eyes and purr.
Phillip was an outgoing cat, which made for an interesting combination with his comparatively reserved owner. Angel and Wes got into the habit of talking on the phone every night, and every time Angel could hear Phillip meowing in the background.
"He wants attention," Wes had explained. "He doesn't understand that I'm actually talking to the inanimate object in my hand."
"Gee, thanks," Angel had replied, and that made Wes laugh.
Phillip's nature proved to be both a blessing and a curse. Wes claimed to be happy with a pet that was so attentive and playful, however he also complained at times of how hard it was to get any work done.
Which was why Angel found himself at Wes's apartment one night, being asked to play babysitter.
"I'm supposed to do what?" Angel asked.
"Keep him company," Wes told him. He dug around in a desk drawer and thrust the results in Angel's direction. Angel found himself cupping a handful of rubber mice and balls with bells in them. "He'll make a racket unless someone's watching him, and I can't get any work done if he's yelling his head off."
"So come back to the hotel," Angel said. He noticed Phillip sitting at his feet, and he moved a few steps away. The cat followed. "I mean - you've got an office there, right?"
"Yes," Wesley said as he popped open his laptop, "but all of my texts are here, as are you. I can get this done much faster if you'd just chip in."
"But I - " Angel glanced down. The cat was staring at him. Angel looked back at Wes. "I don't know how to do this."
Wesley came over and took one of the balls out of Angel's hand, holding it up for inspection. "Do you see this? Hurl it with some kind of velocity anywhere you like that isn't towards something breakable or, god forbid, an open window. Allow him to catch it, then throw it again when he brings it back. If he loses it, throw another. If he doesn't care for it, pet him. It's really not that complicated."
Wes finished off the explanation by throwing the ball. The cat ran after it with a thunder of feet. Wes looked at Angel as though that proved his point, and returned to his computer to get to work.
Angel watched the cat uncertainly. "I've never done this before."
"You're over two hundred years old. You can learn."
Angel suddenly thought of a possible way out. "Actually - I *did* have pets before. But they kinda ended up dead."
"Really?" Wes said, not even looking at him. "Well then do whatever the opposite of that was and I'm sure you'll be fine."
Angel sighed and threw another ball.
Hours later Wesley rescued him. He scooped the cat off of the floor and wrapped his arms around it, scratching it behind the ears. The cat began purring at once, ducking its head under Wesley's chin and rubbing his paws against Wesley's sweater.
Angel observed all of this with a mixture of pleasure and relief. "Done?"
"Yes," Wesley sat down on the couch beside him. He shifted his hold so that Phillip could slide down and turn belly-up in his lap. "That took longer than I thought and I daresay I'd never like to attempt it again. There's a good reason why I never spent much time attempting to learn Camdarian back in university. Dreadfully boring language."
"Never liked it much myself," Angel admitted. He watched Wes's hand as it moved through Phillip's fur, making the cat stretch and squirm happily. He found himself lacking something to say again. "But - still - gotta be nice to be finished."
"Yes," Wesley agreed, "it is."
The room went quiet again, except for purring. Angel found his gaze drawn to the claws that moved in and out of Wes's sweater. He wondered if they were pricking Wes's skin.
He wasn't sure why he did it. Maybe it was impulse, a need to do it before he lost his courage. Maybe it was instinct, a desire to see what was behind the hours-long phone conversations and the strange, animal-related requests. Or maybe the silence had gone on for too long and he couldn't think of anything else to do. But whatever the reason why, he leaned forward and he kissed Wes.
It took a moment. Wes's glasses were definitely in the way. The cat made a noise of protest. But then it was the nice sensation of lips on lips, and Wes wasn't pulling away, which made it even nicer.
When they finally moved apart, Wes was staring at him. He fixed his glasses with a single hand, the other still petting the cat's fur.
"Um - " Angel faltered. "I - um - I mean the thing is - "
Wesley laughed. It was the good kind, where his eyes lit up and he ducked his head. "I was wondering if you were ever going to do that."
"Really?"
"Really," Wes looked back up again. "Or do you think I spend this much time with everyone in my acquaintance?"
Angel shrugged. He'd wanted that to be the case, but things he wanted rarely came true. "Wasn't sure. Kinda liked you not dating anybody though."
"I wonder why?" Wesley said, bemused. He gave the cat one last pet, then shooed it onto the floor. He reached out and touched Angel's chest, and suddenly Angel knew why that kind of thing made Phillip stretch and purr. "But tell me - are you going to do it again?"
Angel leaned into the touch. "Want me to?"
"Definitely."
Which was how, not long after getting the cat, Wesley got a boyfriend.
Fin.
