New Epiphany Story: On Their Own
May. 12th, 2002 08:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thebratqueenOkay gang, the new Epiphany story is done. Hope you like it!
On Their Own
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.
Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.
Rated: PG
Summary: The Angel Investigations gang has a night out. (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place after "Anniversary")
***
"Demon."
A pair of strong hands shoved Wesley down onto the ground. He hit cracked pavement, and felt stones grind into his knees. He scrambled for purchase, cursing the fact that he'd brought no weapons.
The accusation, however, took him aback.
"I beg your pardon?" he said. He managed to turn around and roll towards the dumpsters. His eyes scanned the dark lumps of garbage for anything that looked promising.
"*Demon*," his attacker said again. Now that he was facing up, Wesley could get a good look at him. He appeared to be in his late thirties, balding, white, and he wore dirty jeans and a partially opened flannel shirt.
He was also holding a pipe now.
"Demon!" the man repeated and the pipe swung down. Wesley dove out of its way at the last minute. His hand felt something solid and he pulled out a length of wood. It was three feet long and broken off at the end, but it would have to do.
Wesley brought the wood up in a blocking motion. The pipe connected with it. Wesley could feel the shockwave of the blow travel through his body. He struggled to make sure his grip didn't falter. "I'm not. *Believe* me."
"I know what you are," the man said, and Wesley felt a pit of cold inside his stomach at how true *those* words could have been under the right circumstances. The man raised the pipe again.
"I'm *not*," Wesley insisted. He didn't think he stood a chance of getting the man to see reason, but he hoped he could at least distract him. He turned to the side once more, and used the momentum to regain his footing. "Please, I'm sure we can talk this out rationally if you just - "
The pipe came at him again. Wesley blocked it.
"Oh bugger *this*," Wesley said. He lunged forward, holding the wood like an epee. He stabbed the man in the stomach - not a killing blow, given the wood's blunt edge, but enough to knock the wind out of him. "I don't have time for this kind of nonsense. My friends need me."
Holding his stomach, the man gasped. "What friends?"
Wesley began to reply, when stars exploded in front of his eyes.
***
EARLIER
"You *cheat*," Wesley said.
"You *suck*," Gunn replied. He reached across the table to pull a cheese fry off of the serving plate. "Don't go accusing me 'cause *you* don't have any talent."
"I've plenty of talent!" Wesley said. He downed the last of his beer and signaled the waiter for another. "I'll have you know I trounced many an opponent back in my university days."
"One pansy-ass beating other pansy-asses is nothing to brag about," Gunn said. "I'm talking 'bout *real* pool. Not - I dunno - wimpy British pool with doilies and breaks every round for little bitty sandwiches, manicures and tea."
Wesley laughed. "*Manicures*?"
"Is that a crack against girls?" Cordelia asked. She wadded up her napkin and threw it at Gunn, who caught it easily. "Because I could *so* kick your ass at pool. Or anything else, really."
"I could beat ya," Angel said. Everyone blinked in surprise as he entered the conversation, but he shrugged it off and offered a challenging look to Gunn. "I mean you're making fun of Wes here and I'm thinking I need to defend his honor."
"Yes," Wesley said, patting Angel on the arm. "You do that. But beware he *cheats*."
"Bring it on," Gunn said. He jerked a thumb in Wesley's direction. "Because the only way your boy here could win is *if* he called in the cavalry. Weak-ass - "
"-cheating-"
"-whining-"
"-underhanded-"
"-bitchy-"
"-*annoying*-"
"Yeah, *annoying*-"
"What was that?" Wesley asked. He put a hand up to his ear and leaned closer. "Excuse me? Could you repeat that? I'm afraid I can't hear you over the *wound* in my *gut*."
"Must be some wound," Gunn said. "Hurting you still after a year and making you *deaf* and all."
"It's a great agony," Wesley said. He sat back and winced as though he were in pain. He then immediately gave lie to it as he smiled cheerfully at the waiter who brought his drink.
"Well maybe you can't hear anything over the *complaining* you do about it," Gunn suggested. "Man if I knew you were gonna be like this I'd've taken the shot *myself*. To the *head*." He turned to Cordy. "Why can't you get visions about *that*? Warn me or something?"
"Visions of you guys being stupid?" Cordy asked as she munched on peanuts. "I'm guessing because I'd never see anything else? Just a thought."
"So is this going to *stay* a tea party?" Angel asked. "Or are we actually gonna play some pool here?"
"Five bucks on Angel," Cordy announced. She looked surprised when Gunn rolled his eyes at her. "What?"
"I'm feeling the love," Gunn said.
"Hello - *vampire*," Cordy said. "He's had two centuries to learn how to humiliate you at pool."
"Yeah," Gunn said, "*Vampire*. And *pool*. As in 'game played with sharp, pointy sticks'. I'm thinking A-man here didn't spend too much time on it. Am I right?"
"Did you?" Cordy asked.
"Like I'm gonna tell?" Angel replied. "We're betting, and I'm not stupid."
"That's debatable," Cordy replied. She thought, then shook her head. "Actually - no it isn't. But we pretend like it is so we don't hurt your feelings."
"Thanks," Angel said, dryly.
"What *is* it with California cuisine?" Wes asked, a propos of nothing. He gestured at the plate in front of him. "They take a perfectly normal meal of hamburgers and ruin it by throwing in cilantro, goat cheese, or some other useless food item. I've nothing against the nature of experimentation, but what on earth is the *reason*?"
"And Wes is done with his beer," Angel announced, pushing Wes's still-full bottle away.
"I am not," Wes protested.
"You're making speeches about cilantro and goat cheese," Angel said. "I'm thinking you've had enough."
Wesley shrugged. "It's not as though I'm driving. Why do you care?"
"Because you made me promise?" Angel reminded him. "You know? Back at the hotel? 'Angel please don't let me get pissed and make an ass of myself'?"
"I don't know," Cordy grinned, "I say we let him. He sounds like he's about a beer and a half away from ordering anything that comes in a coconut."
"Oh shut up," Wesley replied.
Cordy batted her eyes at him. "Are you going to sing again? Should we find out if this place has karaoke?"
"That's it," Wesley said, "You're all fired. And you can go to Hell. Except Angel, who's already been." Wesley paused as though hearing what he'd just said, then added "Perhaps I *should* pace myself a little."
"Want me to get you tea or something?" Angel asked.
"Aww," Gunn cooed. "Vampires in loooove."
"I am *so* gonna beat you," Angel said.
"Says who?" Gunn asked.
"Twenty bucks?" Angel said, pulling a bill out of his wallet.
"I got twenty says you can't find your way around a pool table," Gunn agreed. "You ready?"
"Bloody - " Wesley reached a hand down and pulled up his cellphone, frowning at it. "I've got an incoming. Go on and get a table, I'll join you in a bit."
They all threw down enough money to cover the dinner tab - Angel taking care of his and Wes's share - and moved in the direction of the bar's pooltables. Wes made his way outside, holding his cellphone to his ear the entire time.
"Oo - say hello to the yummy goodness," Cordy said as she spied two men at a nearby pooltable. "Excuse me, guys, I think I've found my pool partners. Unless - wait. Angel, are they gay?"
Angel choked on his beer. "What? How would I know?"
"*Gay*," she said, gesturing at him.
"*Bi*," Angel reminded her, then couldn't believe he'd let himself get into the argument again.
"*Whatever*," Cordy said. She quickly checked herself out in her compact then went over to join the two men.
"Five says she gets their numbers," Gunn said. He started pulling the balls out of their pockets.
"Ten says she gets their wallets," Angel replied. Off of Gunn's look he shrugged. "I've been teaching her some stuff. You know - for the job?"
"Uh-huh," Gunn said. "You tell your boy that?"
"Slipped my mind?" Angel said. He gathered the balls, up, racked them, and then made a go-ahead gesture to Gunn. "Wanna break?"
"You bet," Gunn chalked his cue, bent down, and popped the cue ball into its companions with a satisfying *smack*. The balls scattered across the table and the fourteen sunk into the pocket by Angel. "I call stripes."
"Kay," Angel said. He settled in to wait for his turn, chalking his cue in the meanwhile. "So - 'my boy' huh?"
"Been dating for a year," Gunn said. He studied the table, moving around to the other side. "He lives with you. I'm thinking yeah. Twelve, side pocket."
The balls hit, but the twelve stayed just outside of the hole. Angel moved his beer bottle aside to take his own shot. "Three, right corner. And I think I like that."
Gunn smirked. "Three right corner or Wes being your boy?"
Angel nodded in satisfaction when the ball went in. "Both." He repositioned himself. "Seven, left hand pocket."
He missed, and Gunn took his turn. "Not like I was really behind this but - cool. Glad somebody's getting some fun outta this."
"This?" Angel asked.
"Demons, vamps, monsters, oh my," Gunn said. He bent down to shoot. "Fifteen, by you. Hey - anniversary go okay?"
Angel thought back to his dinner with Wes. "Yeah. Yeah. Pretty okay."
"How about your trip?" Gunn took his shot, and lost the cue ball in the corner pocket. "Damn."
"Oo - scratch," Angel said with mock-sympathy. He pulled the cue ball out again and placed it for his own shot. "Two, off the side, into that pocket. And great. Wes loved it. Aquarium, big bookstore - "
"Never left the hotel, did you?" Gunn said.
"Nope," Angel replied, grinning. "But I hear there's an aquarium and a bookstore."
Gunn chuckled. "Well - good. English needs somebody to de-stress his ass once in a while. Otherwise he'll end up like you did."
"I'm thinking no matter how stressed he gets he's not gonna fuck Darla," Angel replied.
"From your lips to God's ears," Wesley said, rejoining them. He glanced at the table. "Who's winning?"
"I'm letting your man get his hopes up," Gunn said. He looked around for a waiter. "Hey - who wants another beer?"
"I'm in," Angel said.
"Er - water for me," Wesley said. He pressed his hand lightly to his stomach as though he were sick. "In fact, let me."
Angel deliberately missed his shot and put his cue down. "Here, lemme help. Back in a sec?"
"I got plenty of time," Gunn said, waving them off. "Just grab me a beer while you're there."
Angel and Wes walked over to the bar. Wes sat down on one of the stools and got the bartender's attention. "One Bass, one Miller, and a bottle of water, please? Still, if it's no trouble."
Angel looked at him in concern. "You feeling okay?"
Wesley waved it off. "Just a little under the weather. I probably shouldn't have tried the buffalo wings. It's not the same kind of spices as a curry."
"Plus they probably put cilantro in it," Angel said, then thought about it. "*Do* you put cilantro in buffalo wings?"
"I've no idea," Wesley said. He paid for the drinks then cracked open his Evian, swallowing it down painfully.
"Hey - should we go home?" Angel asked. He moved to put his hand on Wesley's back then stopped himself, remembering they were in a bar. "Call it a night?"
"Nonsense," Wes said. "I'm made of sterner stuff than this. I only need a moment."
Angel's mind prompted him with a question. "Hey - who was on the phone?"
"What?" Wesley asked. "Oh - that. Nothing."
Angel heard the warning bell go off in his head. "That covers what, not who."
"It was - it was family," Wesley admitted. "A cousin of mine. It's not important."
"Not important, but suddenly you're not feeling so good," Angel said. "We wanna notice a trend here?"
"Must we?"
"We're detectives, kinda the job description."
"It's - it's just difficult, talking to anyone in England right now," Wes sighed, taking his change from the bartender and leaving enough for a tip. "I keep waiting for them to ask me how long I've been letting myself be buggered by that vampire."
"*That* vampire?" Angel pretended to take offense. "What? I don't even get a name anymore? I was the Scourge of Europe."
Wes patted his arm condescendingly. "Of course you were. Do you know I honestly can't tell if it will be worse that you're a vampire or that you are a man? Hell, for all I know Mum will complain on the sole basis that you're a Catholic."
"Lapsed," Angel pointed out.
"I'll be sure to mention it," Wes said, taking another drink of his water. "It's bound to be of immense help."
"Your mom would *care* that I was Catholic?"
"I've a strange family," Wes said.
"No kidding," Angel said.
"No members that tortured people with railroad spikes or amused themselves by gouging out eyeballs," Wesley admitted, "But still - strange nevertheless."
"Actually Spike found the torture to be amusing too," Angel said. He looked at Wes questioningly. "Or am I talking too much?"
Wes laughed. "No - you're just fine. I'll amuse *myself* wondering what your darker half would do to my family."
Angel gave him a feral look. "Ask me someday and I'll tell you."
"You guys aren't talking about sex again, are you?" Cordy asked, nudging her way in between them. "Hey? White wine over here?"
"Were they gay?" Angel asked.
"No," Cordy said, "but they were *jerks*." She turned around to point out two women at the other side of the bar. "They asked if I wanted to do it with them and their girlfriends."
"Want me to go kick their asses?" Gunn asked, coming over to join them.
"Nah," Cordy said, shrugging it off. "I stole their wallets. Drinks on me."
Angel smiled at Gunn smugly and motioned for him to hand over his winnings.
Wes frowned at her. "Since when do you know how - "
"So Gunn and I need to finish that game, don't we?" Angel spoke over him. "Pool table's not getting played with us standing here." Wes shot him a look that told him he wasn't fooled in the slightest.
"Who's winning?" Cordy asked.
"Me," Gunn replied.
"Me," Angel told her.
Cordy smiled brightly. "Stellar money day for me then. Free wallets, and Angel's good at pool." The bartender brought her drink over and she reached into her bag to get one of the wallets out. "Now all I need is - ow!"
She dropped the wallet to the floor as a vision overcame her. Angel grabbed her at once, holding her close to keep her from falling. He heard Wes give the bartender a quick explanation for the confusion.
"What is it?" Angel asked her. "Who's in trouble?"
"Her," Cordy said, pointing in the direction of the back exit. One of the two women was heading out that way, with a new guy on her arm. "Demon attack. Back alley. Go!"
Angel paused long enough to make sure the worst of the vision had passed, then ran back into the alley with Wes and Gunn following close on his heels.
"See 'em?" Gunn asked.
Angel didn't even bother looking, instead closing his eyes and trying to catch the scent. Stale beer, garbage, and old piss blotted out the trail. He opened his eyes again. "No."
"We'll split up," Wesley suggested. "Angel - go that way. Gunn, try around front just to be certain Cordy didn't get the location wrong. I'll try next door."
"You got it," Gunn said, jogging off.
"You sure?" Angel asked. He realized Wes was weaponless. "Wesley - "
Wes read his mind. "If I find anything I'll call for you. Nothing foolish, I promise."
"*Good*," Angel said. "Bad enough you're sick."
"Go," Wesley told him. "Before it's too late."
Angel nodded and walked back into the recesses of the alleyway, his senses trained for the slightest sign of anything new. He was rewarded as he turned a corner. The girl was there with the guy, looking as though they were going to go all the way if they could and if not for the seven foot demon coming up behind them.
"Look out!" Angel shouted. He ran forward and knocked the demon out of their path. He heard the girl scream and run off with the guy close behind her. It wasn't the bravest thing in the world but on the other hand it got the helpless out of his way so he was all for it.
The demon - Angel was pretty sure it was Firc'iah - lashed out at him with its claws. Angel ducked, turned, kicked, and managed to make it fall to the floor. It tried kicking back at him but he jumped out of the way.
"Hey, Angel!" he heard Gunn call. He saw Gunn throw a sword at him. He caught it effortlessly, wrapped his hands around the hilt and slammed it into the demon's chest. It cried out, then fell silent when he gave the sword a savage twist, tearing through the heart and killing it.
"Nice," Gunn said.
Angel pulled the sword out and wiped it off on a stray piece of newspaper. "Thanks. And thanks for the weapon."
"I was out front, figured I'd get us something more useful than air," Gunn said, holding up his own axe as proof. "Thought between you'n me - "
"Where's Wesley?" Angel asked, looking around.
Gunn was instantly worried. "He didn't come back?"
"No," Angel said. "How many demons did Cordy say there were?"
"She didn't," Gunn replied.
"Shit." Angel ran back down the alley again. "Wes? *Wesley*?"
He arrived just in time to see Wes get hit from behind.
"Who the *fuck* - " Gunn started to ask, but Angel didn't stay still long enough for the rest.
"Demon!" one of the men shouted.
"Yeah," Angel said, throwing one of them onto the ground. He morphed into game face and let them take a good look at him. "*Demon*."
A guy holding a pipe swung at him. Angel blocked it with his sword, then grabbed the guy's wrist with his other hand and crushed it completely. With a kick he broke the man's knee and left him sobbing on the ground.
The other man had managed to get on his knees. He whipped a cross out of his coat pocket. "Monster!"
"Got that right," Angel agreed. He grabbed the guy by the front of his throat, lifted him up, and slammed him against a dumpster.
"Should be destroyed," the man choked out.
"Yeah, you should," Angel said. He squeezed his hand tighter, then let go at once, letting the guy drop to the ground. He lifted his sword to deliver the final blow. "*Nobody* hurts Wesley."
"Angel?"
The sound of Wes halted his hand. He lost interest in the guy before him and moved over to help Wesley stand. "Wes - go slow, okay? We should get you to a hospital."
"I'm fine, really," Wesley said. He stood up, holding on to Angel for support and giving Gunn a grateful smile when he offered a hand as well. "Just - had the wind knocked out of me."
"What the *Hell* is this?" Gunn asked.
"A cleansing," the kneeling man replied. "A removal of *all* demons from God's loving - "
"Oh *shut up*," Gunn said, dismissing him at once. "Fucking hate these preachers gone wrong. Hey, English, want me to do the 911?"
Wes blinked in surprise, still leaning against Angel for support. "911? But I'm - " he trailed off, his eyes going downward and seeing the condition of his attackers. "Angel?"
"They *hurt* you," Angel replied. For him it was the only answer needed.
Wesley nodded, accepting that. "All right. Yes, Gunn, call an ambulance for these wankers but do it from the pay phone in the bar and take Cordy home. Angel, you needn't hover but I *should* go home, I think. I predict I'm going to have quite a bruise in the morning."
Angel put his arm around Wes and guided him back to the car at once. "You got it."
Fin.
On Their Own
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.
Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.
Rated: PG
Summary: The Angel Investigations gang has a night out. (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place after "Anniversary")
***
"Demon."
A pair of strong hands shoved Wesley down onto the ground. He hit cracked pavement, and felt stones grind into his knees. He scrambled for purchase, cursing the fact that he'd brought no weapons.
The accusation, however, took him aback.
"I beg your pardon?" he said. He managed to turn around and roll towards the dumpsters. His eyes scanned the dark lumps of garbage for anything that looked promising.
"*Demon*," his attacker said again. Now that he was facing up, Wesley could get a good look at him. He appeared to be in his late thirties, balding, white, and he wore dirty jeans and a partially opened flannel shirt.
He was also holding a pipe now.
"Demon!" the man repeated and the pipe swung down. Wesley dove out of its way at the last minute. His hand felt something solid and he pulled out a length of wood. It was three feet long and broken off at the end, but it would have to do.
Wesley brought the wood up in a blocking motion. The pipe connected with it. Wesley could feel the shockwave of the blow travel through his body. He struggled to make sure his grip didn't falter. "I'm not. *Believe* me."
"I know what you are," the man said, and Wesley felt a pit of cold inside his stomach at how true *those* words could have been under the right circumstances. The man raised the pipe again.
"I'm *not*," Wesley insisted. He didn't think he stood a chance of getting the man to see reason, but he hoped he could at least distract him. He turned to the side once more, and used the momentum to regain his footing. "Please, I'm sure we can talk this out rationally if you just - "
The pipe came at him again. Wesley blocked it.
"Oh bugger *this*," Wesley said. He lunged forward, holding the wood like an epee. He stabbed the man in the stomach - not a killing blow, given the wood's blunt edge, but enough to knock the wind out of him. "I don't have time for this kind of nonsense. My friends need me."
Holding his stomach, the man gasped. "What friends?"
Wesley began to reply, when stars exploded in front of his eyes.
***
EARLIER
"You *cheat*," Wesley said.
"You *suck*," Gunn replied. He reached across the table to pull a cheese fry off of the serving plate. "Don't go accusing me 'cause *you* don't have any talent."
"I've plenty of talent!" Wesley said. He downed the last of his beer and signaled the waiter for another. "I'll have you know I trounced many an opponent back in my university days."
"One pansy-ass beating other pansy-asses is nothing to brag about," Gunn said. "I'm talking 'bout *real* pool. Not - I dunno - wimpy British pool with doilies and breaks every round for little bitty sandwiches, manicures and tea."
Wesley laughed. "*Manicures*?"
"Is that a crack against girls?" Cordelia asked. She wadded up her napkin and threw it at Gunn, who caught it easily. "Because I could *so* kick your ass at pool. Or anything else, really."
"I could beat ya," Angel said. Everyone blinked in surprise as he entered the conversation, but he shrugged it off and offered a challenging look to Gunn. "I mean you're making fun of Wes here and I'm thinking I need to defend his honor."
"Yes," Wesley said, patting Angel on the arm. "You do that. But beware he *cheats*."
"Bring it on," Gunn said. He jerked a thumb in Wesley's direction. "Because the only way your boy here could win is *if* he called in the cavalry. Weak-ass - "
"-cheating-"
"-whining-"
"-underhanded-"
"-bitchy-"
"-*annoying*-"
"Yeah, *annoying*-"
"What was that?" Wesley asked. He put a hand up to his ear and leaned closer. "Excuse me? Could you repeat that? I'm afraid I can't hear you over the *wound* in my *gut*."
"Must be some wound," Gunn said. "Hurting you still after a year and making you *deaf* and all."
"It's a great agony," Wesley said. He sat back and winced as though he were in pain. He then immediately gave lie to it as he smiled cheerfully at the waiter who brought his drink.
"Well maybe you can't hear anything over the *complaining* you do about it," Gunn suggested. "Man if I knew you were gonna be like this I'd've taken the shot *myself*. To the *head*." He turned to Cordy. "Why can't you get visions about *that*? Warn me or something?"
"Visions of you guys being stupid?" Cordy asked as she munched on peanuts. "I'm guessing because I'd never see anything else? Just a thought."
"So is this going to *stay* a tea party?" Angel asked. "Or are we actually gonna play some pool here?"
"Five bucks on Angel," Cordy announced. She looked surprised when Gunn rolled his eyes at her. "What?"
"I'm feeling the love," Gunn said.
"Hello - *vampire*," Cordy said. "He's had two centuries to learn how to humiliate you at pool."
"Yeah," Gunn said, "*Vampire*. And *pool*. As in 'game played with sharp, pointy sticks'. I'm thinking A-man here didn't spend too much time on it. Am I right?"
"Did you?" Cordy asked.
"Like I'm gonna tell?" Angel replied. "We're betting, and I'm not stupid."
"That's debatable," Cordy replied. She thought, then shook her head. "Actually - no it isn't. But we pretend like it is so we don't hurt your feelings."
"Thanks," Angel said, dryly.
"What *is* it with California cuisine?" Wes asked, a propos of nothing. He gestured at the plate in front of him. "They take a perfectly normal meal of hamburgers and ruin it by throwing in cilantro, goat cheese, or some other useless food item. I've nothing against the nature of experimentation, but what on earth is the *reason*?"
"And Wes is done with his beer," Angel announced, pushing Wes's still-full bottle away.
"I am not," Wes protested.
"You're making speeches about cilantro and goat cheese," Angel said. "I'm thinking you've had enough."
Wesley shrugged. "It's not as though I'm driving. Why do you care?"
"Because you made me promise?" Angel reminded him. "You know? Back at the hotel? 'Angel please don't let me get pissed and make an ass of myself'?"
"I don't know," Cordy grinned, "I say we let him. He sounds like he's about a beer and a half away from ordering anything that comes in a coconut."
"Oh shut up," Wesley replied.
Cordy batted her eyes at him. "Are you going to sing again? Should we find out if this place has karaoke?"
"That's it," Wesley said, "You're all fired. And you can go to Hell. Except Angel, who's already been." Wesley paused as though hearing what he'd just said, then added "Perhaps I *should* pace myself a little."
"Want me to get you tea or something?" Angel asked.
"Aww," Gunn cooed. "Vampires in loooove."
"I am *so* gonna beat you," Angel said.
"Says who?" Gunn asked.
"Twenty bucks?" Angel said, pulling a bill out of his wallet.
"I got twenty says you can't find your way around a pool table," Gunn agreed. "You ready?"
"Bloody - " Wesley reached a hand down and pulled up his cellphone, frowning at it. "I've got an incoming. Go on and get a table, I'll join you in a bit."
They all threw down enough money to cover the dinner tab - Angel taking care of his and Wes's share - and moved in the direction of the bar's pooltables. Wes made his way outside, holding his cellphone to his ear the entire time.
"Oo - say hello to the yummy goodness," Cordy said as she spied two men at a nearby pooltable. "Excuse me, guys, I think I've found my pool partners. Unless - wait. Angel, are they gay?"
Angel choked on his beer. "What? How would I know?"
"*Gay*," she said, gesturing at him.
"*Bi*," Angel reminded her, then couldn't believe he'd let himself get into the argument again.
"*Whatever*," Cordy said. She quickly checked herself out in her compact then went over to join the two men.
"Five says she gets their numbers," Gunn said. He started pulling the balls out of their pockets.
"Ten says she gets their wallets," Angel replied. Off of Gunn's look he shrugged. "I've been teaching her some stuff. You know - for the job?"
"Uh-huh," Gunn said. "You tell your boy that?"
"Slipped my mind?" Angel said. He gathered the balls, up, racked them, and then made a go-ahead gesture to Gunn. "Wanna break?"
"You bet," Gunn chalked his cue, bent down, and popped the cue ball into its companions with a satisfying *smack*. The balls scattered across the table and the fourteen sunk into the pocket by Angel. "I call stripes."
"Kay," Angel said. He settled in to wait for his turn, chalking his cue in the meanwhile. "So - 'my boy' huh?"
"Been dating for a year," Gunn said. He studied the table, moving around to the other side. "He lives with you. I'm thinking yeah. Twelve, side pocket."
The balls hit, but the twelve stayed just outside of the hole. Angel moved his beer bottle aside to take his own shot. "Three, right corner. And I think I like that."
Gunn smirked. "Three right corner or Wes being your boy?"
Angel nodded in satisfaction when the ball went in. "Both." He repositioned himself. "Seven, left hand pocket."
He missed, and Gunn took his turn. "Not like I was really behind this but - cool. Glad somebody's getting some fun outta this."
"This?" Angel asked.
"Demons, vamps, monsters, oh my," Gunn said. He bent down to shoot. "Fifteen, by you. Hey - anniversary go okay?"
Angel thought back to his dinner with Wes. "Yeah. Yeah. Pretty okay."
"How about your trip?" Gunn took his shot, and lost the cue ball in the corner pocket. "Damn."
"Oo - scratch," Angel said with mock-sympathy. He pulled the cue ball out again and placed it for his own shot. "Two, off the side, into that pocket. And great. Wes loved it. Aquarium, big bookstore - "
"Never left the hotel, did you?" Gunn said.
"Nope," Angel replied, grinning. "But I hear there's an aquarium and a bookstore."
Gunn chuckled. "Well - good. English needs somebody to de-stress his ass once in a while. Otherwise he'll end up like you did."
"I'm thinking no matter how stressed he gets he's not gonna fuck Darla," Angel replied.
"From your lips to God's ears," Wesley said, rejoining them. He glanced at the table. "Who's winning?"
"I'm letting your man get his hopes up," Gunn said. He looked around for a waiter. "Hey - who wants another beer?"
"I'm in," Angel said.
"Er - water for me," Wesley said. He pressed his hand lightly to his stomach as though he were sick. "In fact, let me."
Angel deliberately missed his shot and put his cue down. "Here, lemme help. Back in a sec?"
"I got plenty of time," Gunn said, waving them off. "Just grab me a beer while you're there."
Angel and Wes walked over to the bar. Wes sat down on one of the stools and got the bartender's attention. "One Bass, one Miller, and a bottle of water, please? Still, if it's no trouble."
Angel looked at him in concern. "You feeling okay?"
Wesley waved it off. "Just a little under the weather. I probably shouldn't have tried the buffalo wings. It's not the same kind of spices as a curry."
"Plus they probably put cilantro in it," Angel said, then thought about it. "*Do* you put cilantro in buffalo wings?"
"I've no idea," Wesley said. He paid for the drinks then cracked open his Evian, swallowing it down painfully.
"Hey - should we go home?" Angel asked. He moved to put his hand on Wesley's back then stopped himself, remembering they were in a bar. "Call it a night?"
"Nonsense," Wes said. "I'm made of sterner stuff than this. I only need a moment."
Angel's mind prompted him with a question. "Hey - who was on the phone?"
"What?" Wesley asked. "Oh - that. Nothing."
Angel heard the warning bell go off in his head. "That covers what, not who."
"It was - it was family," Wesley admitted. "A cousin of mine. It's not important."
"Not important, but suddenly you're not feeling so good," Angel said. "We wanna notice a trend here?"
"Must we?"
"We're detectives, kinda the job description."
"It's - it's just difficult, talking to anyone in England right now," Wes sighed, taking his change from the bartender and leaving enough for a tip. "I keep waiting for them to ask me how long I've been letting myself be buggered by that vampire."
"*That* vampire?" Angel pretended to take offense. "What? I don't even get a name anymore? I was the Scourge of Europe."
Wes patted his arm condescendingly. "Of course you were. Do you know I honestly can't tell if it will be worse that you're a vampire or that you are a man? Hell, for all I know Mum will complain on the sole basis that you're a Catholic."
"Lapsed," Angel pointed out.
"I'll be sure to mention it," Wes said, taking another drink of his water. "It's bound to be of immense help."
"Your mom would *care* that I was Catholic?"
"I've a strange family," Wes said.
"No kidding," Angel said.
"No members that tortured people with railroad spikes or amused themselves by gouging out eyeballs," Wesley admitted, "But still - strange nevertheless."
"Actually Spike found the torture to be amusing too," Angel said. He looked at Wes questioningly. "Or am I talking too much?"
Wes laughed. "No - you're just fine. I'll amuse *myself* wondering what your darker half would do to my family."
Angel gave him a feral look. "Ask me someday and I'll tell you."
"You guys aren't talking about sex again, are you?" Cordy asked, nudging her way in between them. "Hey? White wine over here?"
"Were they gay?" Angel asked.
"No," Cordy said, "but they were *jerks*." She turned around to point out two women at the other side of the bar. "They asked if I wanted to do it with them and their girlfriends."
"Want me to go kick their asses?" Gunn asked, coming over to join them.
"Nah," Cordy said, shrugging it off. "I stole their wallets. Drinks on me."
Angel smiled at Gunn smugly and motioned for him to hand over his winnings.
Wes frowned at her. "Since when do you know how - "
"So Gunn and I need to finish that game, don't we?" Angel spoke over him. "Pool table's not getting played with us standing here." Wes shot him a look that told him he wasn't fooled in the slightest.
"Who's winning?" Cordy asked.
"Me," Gunn replied.
"Me," Angel told her.
Cordy smiled brightly. "Stellar money day for me then. Free wallets, and Angel's good at pool." The bartender brought her drink over and she reached into her bag to get one of the wallets out. "Now all I need is - ow!"
She dropped the wallet to the floor as a vision overcame her. Angel grabbed her at once, holding her close to keep her from falling. He heard Wes give the bartender a quick explanation for the confusion.
"What is it?" Angel asked her. "Who's in trouble?"
"Her," Cordy said, pointing in the direction of the back exit. One of the two women was heading out that way, with a new guy on her arm. "Demon attack. Back alley. Go!"
Angel paused long enough to make sure the worst of the vision had passed, then ran back into the alley with Wes and Gunn following close on his heels.
"See 'em?" Gunn asked.
Angel didn't even bother looking, instead closing his eyes and trying to catch the scent. Stale beer, garbage, and old piss blotted out the trail. He opened his eyes again. "No."
"We'll split up," Wesley suggested. "Angel - go that way. Gunn, try around front just to be certain Cordy didn't get the location wrong. I'll try next door."
"You got it," Gunn said, jogging off.
"You sure?" Angel asked. He realized Wes was weaponless. "Wesley - "
Wes read his mind. "If I find anything I'll call for you. Nothing foolish, I promise."
"*Good*," Angel said. "Bad enough you're sick."
"Go," Wesley told him. "Before it's too late."
Angel nodded and walked back into the recesses of the alleyway, his senses trained for the slightest sign of anything new. He was rewarded as he turned a corner. The girl was there with the guy, looking as though they were going to go all the way if they could and if not for the seven foot demon coming up behind them.
"Look out!" Angel shouted. He ran forward and knocked the demon out of their path. He heard the girl scream and run off with the guy close behind her. It wasn't the bravest thing in the world but on the other hand it got the helpless out of his way so he was all for it.
The demon - Angel was pretty sure it was Firc'iah - lashed out at him with its claws. Angel ducked, turned, kicked, and managed to make it fall to the floor. It tried kicking back at him but he jumped out of the way.
"Hey, Angel!" he heard Gunn call. He saw Gunn throw a sword at him. He caught it effortlessly, wrapped his hands around the hilt and slammed it into the demon's chest. It cried out, then fell silent when he gave the sword a savage twist, tearing through the heart and killing it.
"Nice," Gunn said.
Angel pulled the sword out and wiped it off on a stray piece of newspaper. "Thanks. And thanks for the weapon."
"I was out front, figured I'd get us something more useful than air," Gunn said, holding up his own axe as proof. "Thought between you'n me - "
"Where's Wesley?" Angel asked, looking around.
Gunn was instantly worried. "He didn't come back?"
"No," Angel said. "How many demons did Cordy say there were?"
"She didn't," Gunn replied.
"Shit." Angel ran back down the alley again. "Wes? *Wesley*?"
He arrived just in time to see Wes get hit from behind.
"Who the *fuck* - " Gunn started to ask, but Angel didn't stay still long enough for the rest.
"Demon!" one of the men shouted.
"Yeah," Angel said, throwing one of them onto the ground. He morphed into game face and let them take a good look at him. "*Demon*."
A guy holding a pipe swung at him. Angel blocked it with his sword, then grabbed the guy's wrist with his other hand and crushed it completely. With a kick he broke the man's knee and left him sobbing on the ground.
The other man had managed to get on his knees. He whipped a cross out of his coat pocket. "Monster!"
"Got that right," Angel agreed. He grabbed the guy by the front of his throat, lifted him up, and slammed him against a dumpster.
"Should be destroyed," the man choked out.
"Yeah, you should," Angel said. He squeezed his hand tighter, then let go at once, letting the guy drop to the ground. He lifted his sword to deliver the final blow. "*Nobody* hurts Wesley."
"Angel?"
The sound of Wes halted his hand. He lost interest in the guy before him and moved over to help Wesley stand. "Wes - go slow, okay? We should get you to a hospital."
"I'm fine, really," Wesley said. He stood up, holding on to Angel for support and giving Gunn a grateful smile when he offered a hand as well. "Just - had the wind knocked out of me."
"What the *Hell* is this?" Gunn asked.
"A cleansing," the kneeling man replied. "A removal of *all* demons from God's loving - "
"Oh *shut up*," Gunn said, dismissing him at once. "Fucking hate these preachers gone wrong. Hey, English, want me to do the 911?"
Wes blinked in surprise, still leaning against Angel for support. "911? But I'm - " he trailed off, his eyes going downward and seeing the condition of his attackers. "Angel?"
"They *hurt* you," Angel replied. For him it was the only answer needed.
Wesley nodded, accepting that. "All right. Yes, Gunn, call an ambulance for these wankers but do it from the pay phone in the bar and take Cordy home. Angel, you needn't hover but I *should* go home, I think. I predict I'm going to have quite a bruise in the morning."
Angel put his arm around Wes and guided him back to the car at once. "You got it."
Fin.
