Protocol, Part Thirty-Two

[thebratqueen]

Previous parts can be found here.

PART THIRTY-TWO

A quiet mutter alerted Wesley to the fact that Angel was waking up. Wesley put his pen down, carefully placing it and his lapdesk onto the nightstand so that he could free himself for whatever Angel might want of him.

Angel took his time. Wesley didn't mind. He found he liked watching the vampire in these moments. Awake he was strong and powerful. Asleep he was a corpse. In-between he was something else entirely. His face was relaxed and vulnerable. He looked younger. He looked, Wesley decided, as he must have looked right before he was killed. According to the Council's reports, that had been when Angel wasn't much older than Wesley was. It made him feel an odd kinship with the vampire, as though they might have been friends.

Finally Angel's eyes opened. "I did it again?"

Wesley nodded. "You've been asleep for two hours, my Lord."

Angel groaned. He rubbed his hand over his face. "This is driving me nuts."

"The body needs rest to heal, my Lord," Wesley reminded him.

"My *brain* needs…" Angel floundered, making a circling gesture as though he could waft the words towards him from the air. "Something. To work. Not sleep."

"Sleep is beneficial for the mind as well, my Lord," Wesley said.

"*Constant* sleep makes me feel like my head's made of cotton," Angel said. "More'n usual, anyway."

"The potions may also be doing that, my Lord," Wesley said.

"Can we decrease the dosage again?" Angel asked.

"We can try," Wesley smoothed the blanket, tucking it carefully around Angel's body. "May I serve you, my Lord? Would you like tea, or blood?"

Angel's brows creased together. "Were we talking? I can't remember if I feel asleep on you when we were talking."

"Not this time, my Lord," Wesley assured him.

"I don't mean to do that on purpose," Angel said.

"I know, my Lord," Wesley turned his attention towards the pillows, making certain that they were properly soft. "Are you hungry? I could ring for food."

"You can stop, honest," Angel said. He motioned for Wesley to sit still. "I'm okay."

Wesley folded his hands into his lap. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Angel said. "I just hate the thought of you slaving over me."

Wesley considered his reply carefully. "That *is* my job, my Lord."

"I know, I - " Angel sighed. He looked tired again, which made Wesley feel guilty. "Never mind. What were you doing before I woke up?"

"Writing thank you cards, my Lord," Wesley said.

There was a long moment of silence as Angel digested that. "I'm sorry, can you say that again?"

"Writing thank you cards, my Lord," Wesley repeated, dutifully.

"Yeah, doesn't make sense the second time either," Angel said.

"It's part of my job, my Lord," Wesley said.

"I'm sure it is," Angel said. "Just not getting why you're doing it *now*."

"You were asleep, my Lord."

"Got that part, thanks," Angel said. "I meant *besides* that."

"It is customary to send a note of thank you within twenty-four hours of being given cause to do so, my Lord," Wesley explained.

"I'm going to skip right to the part where I explain I don't know what you're thanking people for," Angel said.

Wesley pointed to the collection of boxes and papers that had amassed to the side of Angel's armoire. "They sent you gifts, my Lord."

Angel sat up. He frowned. "They did what?"

"Some items are notes and letters," Wesley said, on the odd chance that might help to clarify whatever was confusing Angel. "A few of the children drew pictures."

Angel turned to look at him. "They did?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Why?"

It was Wesley's turn to frown in confusion. "Because you're not feeling well."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Angel asked.

"You are their king, my Lord," Wesley reminded him.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that they *like* me," Angel said.

"It's their loss if they don't," Wesley said.

The words made Angel smile, which in turn made Wesley's stomach feel warm. "That was a nice thing to say."

Wesley kneaded his hands into the blanket. "I meant it, my Lord."

Angel moved closer to Wesley, adjusting the position of his arm so that it could rest behind Wesley's body. "Wes, why are people sending me gifts?"

"Because you are not feeling well, my Lord," Wesley said, chalking this up to the forgetfulness that the healing potions often brought about in the vampire. "They wanted to send their sympathies, and support."

"They *never* do that," Angel said.

"Has my Lord been this unwell before?" Wesley asked.

Angel thought about it. "Okay, no. But it's still weird."

"They wish to do right by you," Wesley said.

"Obviously you haven't met everyone here," Angel said. "How'd that go anyway? While I was gone?"

"I have no complaints, my Lord," Wesley said.

"Which would impress me, except I know you don't ever," Angel said.

"My Lord could inquire as to whether I fulfilled his orders to his satisfaction," Wesley pointed out.

Angel rubbed the small of Wesley's back. Wesley shifted, wishing he could press into the touch. "I want to know if *you* think you did that."

"I served my Lord to the best of my ability," Wesley said.

"Anything come up?" Angel asked. "Any problems I need to know about?"

Wesley shook his head. "I did what I could to obey your requests, my Lord. There isn't anything else that I must report."

"If you say so," Angel lay back on the bed. "I am sorry about that, you know. I hated having to force you into that without any prep."

"I am here to serve you," Wesley said. "The circumstances of that are irrelevant to me."

"Still, it was too much," Angel said. "Now that I'm back we'll fix that. Take some of that pressure off you. There's no need for you to drown now that me and Spike are back to lend a hand."

Wesley chose his words carefully. "My Lord may do whatever he wishes, of course. Though by his request I did implement some things which I thought might help with the running of his household. Does my Lord want me to continue with them, or shall I stop now that he is home?"

"We'll talk about it," Angel said. "See what you're doing. I do want you to run this place at some point, Wes, make no mistake."

"I would be happy to, my Lord," Wesley said, glad for the rules which allowed him to sneak the sentiment in there.

"But we can do baby steps," Angel said. He patted Wesley's back in a reassuring manner. "I know this is too much too soon, even if you aren't allowed to say that to me."

"I am happy to serve my husband," Wesley said.

Angel gave him a look of fellow feeling. "Right now I'd be happy to do anything. I'm telling you, Wes, this is driving me *nuts*. Day in, day out, stuck in the exact same place - any minute now the walls are going to start closing in on me. You ever get that feeling?"

The question was casual, and of the nature of small talk, which allowed Wesley to artfully duck it by replying, "Is there anything I can do to help distract my Lord from his problems?"

Angel's fingertips traveled up Wesley's spine. "Damn if that isn't tempting."

Wesley felt the warmth in his stomach start to spread to his chest. "I am here to serve you in any way that you desire, my Lord."

"Call me Angel."

Wesley looked directly into his eyes. "Angel."

The smile that came in response made Wesley's heart flutter. "I like how you say that."

"I'm sorry if I was displeasing you before," Wesley said, adding, "Angel."

"See you talk to me like that and I start to feel like a person," Angel said.

Wesley shook his head at once. "My - *Angel*, I do regard you as a person. Or a vampire. Or - I regard you very highly, my Lord. I do."

"Still getting used to that," Angel said.

"You are worthy of such regard," Wesley said.

Angel sat up, grunting with pain as he did. Wesley moved to help him, but Angel motioned him away. "We should talk."

Wesley sat back. This sounded serious. "As you wish, my Lord."

"Angel," Angel reminded him. "You can call me Angel. It's okay."

Wesley nodded, repeating, "Angel."

"Thanks," Angel said. He looked uncomfortable, though that might have been due to the aftereffects of his movement. "It's just - well you kind of brought it up, and I'm stuck here, so might as well talk about it, right?"

Wesley had no idea what any of that meant, but agreed anyway. "Yes, my - Angel."

"Thing is," Angel said, "I'm *not* worthy of that regard. I'm not a good person."

"I think you are," Wesley said, quietly.

"I know," Angel said. "And I'm glad, honest. But there's *better*. Much better. And I think you should have a chance to experience it."

The warmth inside of Wesley vanished instantaneously. He tried to sit still, in spite of the thundering of his heart. "I'm sorry."

Angel misunderstood the apology. "I want you to be happy. I want you to have what you deserve. So I was thinking, maybe I could help with that. Maybe give you your own space, find ways to keep things quiet. You could *have* someone, Wes. Somebody you wanted."

The context of the conversation made the rules war against one another. Even so, Wesley blurted out, "I want *you*."

"I know you have to say that," Angel said. "But there could be *more* than that. I want you to have more than that."

Wesley set his jaw. "That isn't necessary, my Lord."

"Angel."

"It *still* isn't necessary," Wesley snapped. He tried to control his temper. "Angel, if you want something you may have it. Protocol allows for such things. You needn't have guilt, nor do you need to bribe me for it."

Angel didn't look happy. "I wasn't trying to bribe you, Wes."

"Regardless, it's not necessary," Wesley told him. "I am a spouse. I go where I am wanted. If you do not want me in the bedroom anymore - "

"I didn't say that."

" - then you need only tell me and I will keep myself out of your way," Wesley finished.

Angel sat forward, the pain visible in the wincing of his eyes. "I didn't say that."

Emotional upheaval made Wesley more honest than normal. "You said that you don't want me to want you. You said that you wanted to put me away in another room."

"To make you *happy*," Angel said.

Wesley stared him down. "That would not make me happy."

"You don't even know what happiness is," Angel said.

"I'm not a child," Wesley said, hearing a tone come out of his mouth that even he defined as his princely voice. "I am not a mental invalid. I know what I want and I know what makes me happy."

"But the Council would tell you that those things don't matter," Angel countered.

"They would," Wesley agreed, "for I am a spouse and serving my husband is what I do. But that *does* make me happy and it *is* what I want. Particularly as my husband has turned out to be you."

"You don't even know me," Angel said.

Wesley reached under the bed. He grabbed the book he'd kept for comfort and threw it down onto the mattress between them. "I know that."

Angel picked the book up. It immediately fell open to page 263. "Well… that's an old memory."

"I know your history," Wesley said. "I know what can be known about you and I know of all the legends. I was told stories of you when I was a boy. I *know* you."

Angel shook his head, snapping the book closed. "Just because I was nice to you once - "

"You *are* nice," Wesley said. "And kind, and generous, and brave, and noble. You are everything I could have ever wanted in my husband. I don't want anything more."

"You could have somebody human," Angel said. "Somebody with a heartbeat. Someone who can grow old with you, and go out in sunlight. Someone you could have *kids* with, Wes."

"I don't need someone human," Wesley said. "And a heartbeat is no indication of a lack of cruelty. I wouldn't have cared if you looked all of your two centuries now, so I cannot conceive of caring if you don't look them years later. Children, if they are important to you, could be adopted, or born through a surrogate of some kind. And I - " Wesley paused, feeling the weight of the sentiment inside of him " - I don't ever need to see sunlight again if it means that I can be with you."

"Who was cruel to you?" Angel asked, his eyes keen and penetrating.

"Not you," Wesley replied. As far as he was concerned, that was the only thing that mattered.

"There are so many more reasons to like someone," Angel said.

"Why do you insist that I don't have them?" Wesley asked.

"Because I know me," Angel said. "I know who I am. I know what I'm capable of."

Wesley sat closer, resting his hands on the blankets between them. "I know my husband. I know Connor's father."

Angel shook his head. "You don't know *me*. Even this - " he rapped his knuckles on the cover of the book " - that's not real. That's not what I really was."

"Then show me," Wesley said. "Settle the matter, once and for all."

"I don't want to scare you," Angel said.

"I've discovered that you're not the kind of monster that frightens me," Wesley said.

Angel looked at him long and hard. "You say that now."

"There is only one way to find out if I would say it then," Wesley replied.

Angel dropped his head down. Silence filled the room, punctuated only by the pops and cracks of the fire. Finally he looked back up. "Close your eyes."

Wesley did so.

"I want you to brace yourself," Angel said. "It's a big change."

Wesley thought about pointing out that he'd seen the change of face in other vampires already, but instead he nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

The mattress moved underneath him as Angel shifted position. There was a pause, then a muffled sound which might have been another grunt of pain. "Okay, look."

Wesley blinked his eyes open. His breath caught. "My Lord…"

Gold eyes regarded him where brown had once been. Ridges and bumps reshaped the face. And of course deadly fangs appeared inside the mouth. "I told you," Angel said, his voice sounding different, and perhaps a little deeper.

Wesley sat forward. He reached a hand up to feel, then immediately stopped himself. "I'm sorry."

Angel seemed perplexed by this. "You wanted to touch?"

"I'm fascinated by it all," Wesley confessed. He leaned in closer. "The entire process is a mystery to me. If I may ask, does it hurt?"

"The fangs do, sure," Angel said.

Wesley smiled. "I thought as much, thank you. But I meant the transformation. Is it painful for you?"

"Oh," Angel said. The look of confusion did not leave him. "No. It just… *is*."

"Do you prefer being like this?" Wesley asked.

"Depends on my mood," Angel admitted. Seeing Wesley's hand hovering in the air, he added, "You - I mean if you *want* you can - I - I don't mind."

"Thank you," Wesley reached out, brushing light fingertips over the eyebrow ridges. They felt firm, like bone. "This is for defense, one presumes."

"I guess," Angel said. "I never really thought about it."

Wesley moved his fingertips to the bridge of the nose, feeling the bumps to the found there. "And these? Do these serve a purpose?"

"Decoration?" Angel guessed.

"It is rather handsome," Wesley agreed. He moved his fingertips over the right eyebrow, then down to the cheekbone. "You are rather handsome, even still."

Angel caught Wesley's wrist in his hand. "You're not scared?"

Wesley shook his head. "Not of you."

"You could have a human," Angel reminded him.

Wesley stretched his fingers out so that they could touch Angel's skin again. "My Lord, I *want* a vampire."

Was it Wesley's imagination, or did Angel tremble? "It's not that I don't want you, Wes. I do. Very much. More than I should."

Wesley took that for permission. He leaned in, bringing his mouth closer to Angel's. "My Lord, there is no such thing. I am yours. Want me as much as would bring pleasure to you."

"I don't ever want to hurt you," Angel said.

Wesley brought his other hand up, cupping Angel's cheek. "Then teach me."

Angel frowned. "What?"

Wesley smiled, then bent down to mouth his lips over Angel's forehead. He flicked his tongue out to tease along the ridges. "Teach me how I can pleasure you when you're like this."

Angel made a choked sound. "Wes…"

Wesley met his eyes, his own unwavering even in the face of all that gold. "My Lord, I want no other man nor woman. I only want you. My happiness is with you, no matter what you have done, or what you appear to be."

"Man, woman," Angel said, "what about beast?"

Wesley decided to take a leap of faith. "A beast would harm me if I kissed him."

Angel's thumb made circles on Wesley's wrist. "Dunno. Something tells me you might make even the nastiest beast want to treat you nice."

"That's actually not true," Wesley said. "But if my Lord finds it to be so, then it's much the same thing, is it not?"

"I thought about this," Angel admitted. "I wondered what it might be like."

Wesley brought their lips together, kissing Angel with an inviting, feather-light touch. "Does the reality please my husband?" he asked, keeping his breath warm and soft as he did.

Angel's hand held him tighter. He pulled Wesley close. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it does."

Wesley smiled. "Then that's all that I need."

Angel responded to that with yet another kiss.