__Untitled__
By Freerose
A faux British pub a few miles outside of Los Angeles. Wesley sat at the bar by himself, trying ever so hard not to be depressed. Like many of the ex patriots filling the bar, he came here when he was sick of watered down, cold beer, slang he didn't understand, and occasionally when he caught himself watching S Club 7 just to hear familiar accents.
*Oh, to be dancing and singing instead of slaying demons!*
He had to laugh at the image of him, Angel and Cordelia forming a pop group. Three of the worst singers on the planet and two of the worst dancers.
*Things are so tense at the office, we'd be more like the Gallagher brothers. *
"Beer. " A Cockney voice said to the bartender.
*Great* Wesley thought. *Just great. I hope he doesn't sit at the bar. * No, that was incredibly snooty of him-this guy could be a perfectly nice person. Then he snuck a peek at the stranger. Bleached blond hair, in a sort of "pompadour" style, pale skin, big blue eyes. A tight black t-shirt, black pants and a leather duster.
"What are you lookin' at?" The stranger demanded.
"Oh-um-"Wesley felt as if he were under a microscope, with no clothes on, the way that man looked him up and down. Disconcerting to say the least."
"Sorry."
"Bartender? Give this man a drink-on me!" The stranger already appeared to be a bit-potted. Wesley wondered what someone as young as him was doing drinking by himself in a bar. Then again, he was probably wondering the same thing about Wesley.
"M'name's Will."
"Wesley."
Will cocked his head to one side, and raised an eyebrow.
"Whatz a nice boy like you doing all alone?"
"I don't have many friends in Los Angeles."
"Im frum Shunnydale. Nobody liksh me there." He started to laugh. "They all left! It's jus me. myshelf and I!"
He wandered over to the darts game that was in progress, and our fearless Watcher drifted after him. 45 minutes later they were both in possession of some extra cash, courtesy of some very unskilled college students from Scotland.
They talked for a long time, several hours it seemed. Reminicing about their homeland, the trials of living in California, and their girl troubles.
"She treats me like her brother."Wesley complained. "She threw herself at me and now she doesn't want me anymore!"
"I got a better one-thish girl-she shows up wherever I am. She-She keepsh tryin' to kill me. O'course, I keep tryin' to kill her but that ish not the point! It ishn't fair! It ishn't fair because I'm in love wit' her. She comesh to my house'n punchsh me in the nosh." Wesley listened only partially to his new friend's drunken ramblings. He was begging to suspect that he had drunk too much himself, because the conversation was going in a decidedly strange direction.
"I'm one hundred'n twenty shix yearsh ol' an I got a crush on a Shlayer. "
"That's intereshting." Wesley said absently. "I used to know a slayer. Two slayers actually. One was evil and there was this thing with a box of spiders and a giant snake an' then she was in a coma and then she came here and kidnapped me and tortured me and now
she's in jail. She got me fired from my job. "
"Women." Will snorted. He flung a dart, aiming for the target but narrowly missing someone's head.
"Ooops!"
"I think-I think you've had enough beer." Wesley giggled, leaning against Will to keep himself from falling over. Will placed his hand on the small of Wesley's back.
"Whooahh there. Look who's talkin'. We shud go home now. Wan me ta drive you?"
"And-and get pul'd over fer driving unner th' inkfluence of alfahol? No Way Hoshay."
Will peered at Wes with an exaggeratedly seductive expression.
"He's got rooms upstairs."
"'Kay."
* * * * *
"Ever done this before?" Will smiled as he crawled towards him, he stopped, kneeling on the mattress. Wesley started arranging himself in Will's lap.
"I went to public school, remember?"
Rough hands, toughened by a long life of running and fighting and killing, making contact with the soft, clean smelling skin of a gentleman. Exploring Wesley's body with his lips, murmuring drunken sweet nothings as the other man moaned and arched against him. Hearing Wesley gasp as he slammed into him.
"Will!"
"Did I hurt you?"
"No-But keep trying-Please!" Wesley said half jokingly, half urgently.
"Your wish is my command."
Driving harder, Wesley's face buried in his shoulder, a shower of sparks and the world seemed to explode around them. They collapsed together on the bed.
"Your skin, you were so cold." Wesley murmured in a daze, as he turned to look at his lover. Whose face had morphed into a horrible vampire visage.
"EEAAKKK!" Wesley squeaked, doing a wonderful imitation of a crab as he scrambled backwards.
"Don't get so upset."
"YOU"RE A VAMPIRE! You-You're THAT vampire. Y-You're William the Bloody! Spike-I've s-tudied you."
"You have? Well, that figures. But Wes, luv, if you've studied me then you know that if I were going to kill you I would have already done it."
"Y-yes. I guess you're right. Are you cursed, like Angel?"
Will tapped his head.
"Chip. In me brain. These chaps from the government snatched me and did a buncha experiments. On the little wolf boy too."
"Oz?"
"I remember, last night you talked all about when you used to be a Watcher. For -"
"Buffy."
"THE SLAYER." Spike growled. " What a bitch."
"Oh, don't get me started on her. Is she the one who keeps trying to kill you?"
A low, angry snarl from the vampire.
"I. Am. Not. In. Love. With. Her."
"Whatever you say." Wesley laughed.
* * *