__Call and Answer__
By Kath

Wesley sat hunched over in his chair, chewing on the end of his pen, his nose firmly planted in his book. Cordelia had taken to teasing him that he must be addicted to 'book smell' - the mustier the better. He would never admit it to her, but she was not far off. He absolutely loved the smell of old books. They reminded him of the long rainy days of his childhood, when he would sneak off into his grandfather's library and pull one of the old tomes off a shelf, hiding himself in a corner somewhere, so he would not be discovered.

The young man brought his current find up to his nose and inhaled deeply. Ahhhhhh. So intent was Wesley, on his own thoughts, that he was not aware of Angel's approach, until the vampire had planted a kiss on his neck. It took every ounce of strength in Wesley's body for him not to leap out of his skin in surprise. Proudly, he hadn't so much as flinched.

"Awww, I didn't scare you," Angel pouted.

Wes turned to eye Angel coolly. "One would hope that, after all this time, I would be used to you creeping silently about." He gave the vampire a wink and a smile, then looked serious again. "Are you okay? You seem a bit..."

"Tired? I know. Yeah, I'm okay. We *were* out late last night...or should I say, this morning." He returned the wink, and looked around. "Where's Cordy?"

Wesley chuckled. "She paged Gunn, and she has him assisting her with her errands. I don't think he was all that pleased."

"Yeah, but I am." Angel removed the book from Wesley's hands, and laid it carefully onto the desk, before pulling him out of the chair and planting a big friendly kiss on his mouth. "I had a really nice time last night, y'know."

"Me too." Wesley's arms claimed Angel's waist, holding him tightly. He kissed Angel back, this time more seriously, and Angel ran his hands up and down Wesley's back. Finally, Wes was forced to break it off. "Oh my, that was..."

"Yeah." Angel reached up to wipe a stray eyelash from Wesley's cheek, and rested his cool hand there. "Let's go out tonight," he said, impulsively.

"Out? Like....on a...?" Wesley tried to take a step back, and nearly fell backwards over the chair he had so recently vacated.

"Date...yeah. You can say it, Wes. I'm asking you out on a date." He frowned. "Don't you want to ?"

"Oh...yes, I'd love to. I just didn't expect..."

"I told you I was going to do this properly. God, it's been centuries since I've been courting."

Wes cracked a smile at the old-fashioned expression. "Perhaps we should sit on the porch swing, drinking lemonade and furtively holding hands."

"I was thinking more like dinner and a movie."

"You don't eat, Angel."

"But you do. I like to watch you; it lets me know you're actually eating now and then." He playfully poked the skinny man in the ribs.

"Well, if it isn't Rip Van Angel, awake at last." A female voice came from behind them.

The startled men jumped apart, but Cordelia seemed to have taken no notice of them. She was directing Gunn, as to where she wanted the packages deposited. The young man seemed rather miffed, and Wesley couldn't help being very glad he had not been in Gunn's shoes all afternoon.

"You should see all the great deals I got! I am so 'way cool' with the bargain hunting." She beamed at her three male friends.

Gunn dumped his load in the middle of the floor, and gave Wesley a menacing look. "Yeah, you should *see*," he snarled sarcastically. "She mentioned how it was *your* idea I go along with her."

"Yes, well, seeing as how you two made such a good team last night, I assumed you wouldn't mind." Angel marveled at Wesley's ability to project airs of innocence and smug satisfaction at the same time.

Gunn wasn't buying the innocent act, but just wanted to get out of there, back to his own place, away from Cordelia, before she thought up any other tortures for him to endure. With a final glower in Wesley's direction, he snapped at the group in general.

"Next time you page me, it had better be to off some nasty creatures of the night, or other heads are gonna roll." With that he spun on his heels and practically flew out the door.

Wesley turned to Angel, with a 'surprised' look on his face. "I don't think Gunn enjoyed his afternoon out, Angel."

Angel usually found it best to stay neutral in these situations, but he did allow himself a small grin, since Cordelia was facing the other way.

Wesley continued, "I can't imagine why. Spending hours listening to Cordelia speak on the virtues of the 30% off sale, carrying her packages, the endless waiting...oh, wait, now I can."

"Very funny, Mr. I Only Own Two Pairs Of Pants Because I Never Go Shopping. Just for that, next week I'm taking you clothes shopping...for YOU! And I'm gonna make you try stuff on too."

Wesley moaned, and his shoulders sagged. "Angel...tell her she can't do that," he whined.

Angel was all smiles now. "I expect a fashion show when you get back too."

Finding himself outnumbered, Wesley grumbled, retrieved his book, and flopped back into his chair.

Cordelia flashed him a smug, superior smile and went to unpack her spoils.

Angel bent to whisper in Wesley's ear. "Be sure and buy some new underwear, so we can have our own private fashion show." With a quick peck on Wes' rapidly warming cheek, he wandered off, leaving Wesley rather embarrassed...and horny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(later that night)

The dimly lit alleyway was deserted, save for a cat, rummaging through a garbage can, behind the Chinese restaurant; a broody vampire with a soul, dressed from head to toe in black; and his human date, who looked good enough to bite, in his charcoal grey trousers and deep blue sweater. The couple were taking advantage of their isolation, by holding hands, as they strolled unhurriedly towards the movie theater.

Wesley sighed contentedly. "That was a lovely dinner, Angel. Thank you."

Angel pouted slightly. "You didn't hardly eat any of it."

"I was too busy thinking of you." This seemed to please the vampire. It wasn't a total lie; Angel was very distracting, especially with his hands, under the table. Wesley wasn't about to tell him how unnerving it was to try and eat, when you knew someone was watching you do it.

They reached the theater at last, and reluctantly broke apart. Wesley eyed the marquee somewhat dubiously. "Are you sure this is the movie you want to see?"

Angel grinned at him, and actually seemed excited. This was reason enough for Wesley to go along with it. "Oh yeah. I think you'll like it. It'll be fun."

"Fun? Since when do you do fun?" The words came out before Wesley could stop them. He hoped he hadn't hurt Angel's feelings.

"Hey, I know I'm a little rusty, but I'm working on it."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Forgive me?"

Angel surreptitiously gave Wesley's hand a squeeze. "Anything."

They paid for their tickets, and went inside, trying to avoid the large throng of people milling about the lobby. Inside the theater, they chose seats in the last row. Wesley sat down, but Angel said "I'll be right back" and disappeared for several long minutes. When he returned, his arms were full - he'd bought out the candy counter, it seemed. Soon, Wesley found himself balancing a jumbo bucket of popcorn on one knee, and a candy bar and soda on the other.

"Angel, I can't possibly eat all this," he complained, gently. Seeing Angel's look of disappointment, Wesley quickly shoved a handful of buttery kernels into his mouth. "Mmmmph, good."

Angel grabbed a handful of popcorn for himself, only to lose most of it in his lap. "This is why I don't eat," he grumbled. He looked down at his lap, then hopefully at Wes. You want to help me clean this up?"

Wesley merely smiled at him, and sipped his soda.

Angel soon found a new game, and spent the next 5 minutes feeding popcorn to Wesley. The young man finally had to shove his hand away. "Angel, please, I have to chew it before I swallow it, you know. Really, I've had enough."

Just then, the lights dimmed, and the movie started. Wes leaned in and whispered, "Why Jackie Chan, anyway?"

"I like to watch him fight. Sometimes I pick up some new moves. Besides, he's really funny," Angel whispered back.

Wesley's mind boggled at the idea of the normally sullen vampire finding something 'really funny', but was soon swept up in the action of 'The Legend Of The Drunken Master'.

When he heard Angel laugh out loud for the first time, Wesley's attention was drawn from the film, as he watched Angel's face, in rapt fascination.

He reached over and covered Angel's hand with his own, lightly running his fingertips up and down Angel's fingers.

Angel kept his hand still for a few minutes, before flipping it over, so he could entwine his fingers with Wesley's. He brought the younger man's hand up to his lips, kissing it, before slowly sucking subtle hints of salt and butter from each finger.

Wesley's mouth was open, and he licked his lips excitedly. When he couldn't take it anymore, he pulled Angel to him, kissing him hard.

The armrest between them dug into Angel's ribs, and he was contemplating just ripping it out, when a roar of laughter from the crowd reminded him where they were, and he pulled away. Wesley was red in the face, and had a dreamy look in his eye. He rested his head on Angel's shoulder and grabbed his hand again, settling down comfortably, to watch the rest of the movie. Angel leaned his head against Wesley's, just as contentedly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wesley fumbled with his apartment keys. He'd decided, somewhere during the middle of the movie, that he was going to invite Angel to spend the night, but now that the time had come, he was losing his nerve. Angel had his arms wrapped around his waist and was nuzzling the back of his neck. Finally, the key slid into the lock and clicked it open. He turned around, and Angel's kisses began to land on his lips. He sunk into the embrace, and was warmed by it, despite the coolness of Angel's skin. Suddenly, Angel broke off his kiss, to stifle a huge yawn.

"Geez, I'm sorry Wes," he apologized, mortified. "I guess I"m more tired than I thought.

Wes ran his hand down Angel's chest. "It's okay, Angel." He opened his apartment door and was about to invite him in, when the vampire yawned again.

"I think I'm gonna have to call it a night, Wes. I'm sorry. I'm just *really* sleepy, all of a sudden."

"Oh...uh....sure, Angel. I-I understand. I had a lovely time tonight, really."

"Me too." He kissed Wesley one more time, and turned to go. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"G'night, Angel." Wes tried not to sound too disappointed, as he watched until Angel had disappeared down the stairs. Confused and frustrated, he dragged himself into his lonely, empty apartment, and shut the door behind him.

Wesley looked up from the files he was sorting through. He sensed, rather than heard, Angel's descent down the stairs. He glanced at his watch. 1:30pm.

"You're up early," he commented, without turning around.

Angel paused on the bottom step, at the odd tone in Wesley's voice. "Something wrong?" He hurried to his associate's side.

Wesley forced his mouth into a friendly smile. "No. I just..." He snapped his mouth shut.

"You're mad about something, I can tell," Angel accused.

"I'm not...*mad*, Angel....I...I'm worried about you." He stood to face the vampire, took a deep breath, and unloaded. "You're never around...you sleep all day *and* most of the night...you won't tell me anything, other than you're fine..." He waited a beat, before whispering, "I miss you."

Angel took Wesley's hands into his own, and looked at him earnestly. "I'm sorry, Wes. I didn't mean to worry you. I really *do* feel fine. I'm just....sleepy. Maybe it's all the stress of the last few months, catching up to me. Just because I'm a vampire, that doesn't mean I can't get worn down, now does it?"

Wesley's skeptical face relaxed a bit. "I suppose that could be true. There really haven't been any vampire studies done on the subject."

"Maybe you could conduct your own study." Angel winked. " And I miss you too. How about I make it up to you tonight....just the two of us. It'll be fun," Angel was whispering softly into Wesley's ear. The cool breath sent shivers of excitement down Wesley's spine. "As soon as Cordy goes home, we're outta here."

As if on cue, Cordelia appeared from the back, the office checkbook clutched in her hands. "Oh, good, you're finally up. Payday...can't neglect those signature signing duties." She shoved the book between Wesley and Angel, and waited expectantly.

Wesley retreated to his seat at the desk, while Angel gave Cordy a pointed look. "Pen?"

"Oh, right!" Cordy reached over and whipped the one Wesley was using right out of his hand, presenting it to Angel.

"Hey!"

"Do you want to get paid, or not?" she hissed, annoyingly.

"What I *want* is my pen back, thank you very much."

Angel rolled his eyes, as he signed the checks. And they wondered why he liked to spend all his time upstairs in bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the afternoon seemed to drag on forever, with Wesley thinking he was going to have to physically shove Cordelia out the door. Finally, she announced she was heading out to her acting class. Overly pleased to see her go, Wesley went into the bathroom, to wash the smell of old books off his hands. While in there, he examined himself in the mirror, adjusting his tie, smoothing his hair, etc. When he came back out, the lobby was empty and quiet.

"Angel, are you ready to go? Angel?" He looked into the back office, but his boss wasn't there either. "Oh well, perhaps he's gone upstairs to change, or something."

Wesley picked up a book, and settled down to wait. When he next looked at his watch, fifty minutes had gone by. The perplexed man stood in the middle of the lobby, unsure of what to do next. He didn't know whether to leave or go up to Angel's room. He decided on the latter, and climbed the stairs to the next floor. Wesley knocked quietly, but got no answer. Concerned, he opened the door slightly, and peeked inside. He could just make out the dark silhouette of Angel, asleep in bed. He'd forgotten him, apparently. A deflated - and rather wounded - Wesley turned quietly, shoulders sagging, and shut the door behind him. Anger began to boil inside him. If Angel wasn't interested in seeing him anymore, the least he could do was tell him. He cared deeply for the vampire, but his mixed messages were driving Wes crazy. Wesley went home, with a renewed determination to confront Angel, once and for all, about what was making him act so strange.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(10:00pm, the next evening)

Angel was dreaming again. Dreaming about Wesley. Naked Wesley. Kissing him, fondling him. The vampire realized they were both naked, and he drew the ex-Watcher to him, loving the feel of the warm, silky skin beneath his searching hands. Wesley's kiss seemed to devour his whole face, and their mutual arousals clashed like titans, as their hips ground together. Erotic moans filled the air, and Angel wasn't sure if they were Wesley's or his own.

As if by magic, they were on the bed now, lying side by side, their legs tangled together, their arms wrapped tightly around each other, hands sliding, caressing, touching, pulling. Angel buried his face in Wesley's neck, inhaling his scent deeply.

Wesley gasped in surprise, and Angel looked up, over his lover's shoulder.

Darla was there, lying pressed to Wesley's back, her arms rapping around him, reaching out for Angel. He reached out to stroke first Wesley's cheek, then Darla's.

On an unspoken signal, the two vampires took the human lying between them, Darla at one side of his throat, Angelus at the other. Wesley didn't even have time to cry out, as he felt the fangs sink painfully into him, his life-force being sucked out, as he writhed and twisted in their arms. Another moment and he was dead.

Angel woke with a start, real terror in his eyes, the dream already becoming a blur. He stumbled unsteadily to the kitchen, to heat some blood, as he pulled on the first pair of pants and shirt he found in the closet.

Wandering down the stairs, he could hear the loud voices of Wesley and Cordelia, their argument floating up to him in disjointed phrases that made no sense to him.

"This is so typical of your kind." Wes sounded annoyed.

"At least I'm not a sheep."

"I am *not* a sheep!"

Confused, Angel confronted his employees. "Hey! - what the hell is going on here?"

He shouldn't have asked; their answer made even less sense to him. To make matters worse, every time he looked at Wes, Angel was overwhelmed by gut wrenching feelings of remorse and pain, and he didn't know why. Where was the coffee? He needed coffee.

Cordelia was yammering away, something about putting Gunn on the payroll. Angel resisted the urge to smack her into silence, and threatened to fire her instead. An empty threat - as she reminded him - although, she did make him smile, when she stuck her tongue out at him. He could never stay mad at her for long.

Wesley was acting distant, and the thought nagged at Angel that it was somehow his fault; there was something he wasn't remembering. He could see concern written on his friend's face, and suddenly, Angel wanted nothing more than to reach out to Wesley, hold onto him, and never let him go. Instead, he reached out with words, a small cry for help.

"I've been sleeping weird," Angel admitted.

"How?"

"I don't know."

Wesley pounced on Angel's distress, reading it as clearly as he read one of his many books. "This has been going on for a bit, hasn't it? You sleep more - you're less rested. Are you dreaming?"

Dreams! Yes, there were dreams. He wanted to tell Wesley about the dreams. Before he could though, Cordelia cried out through the pain of a vision, and Angel was off to save another soul.

***

Jealous. He was not jealous. There was no reason for Wesley to be jealous. Right?

Angel was out in the courtyard with *her* right now - the girl he had gone to save in the alleyway - talking to her, comforting her. Why was it that Angel seemed to lavish the most attention on the people that hurt him the most. My god, Bethany had impaled him with a metal pole less than 24 hours earlier, and now they were out there chatting like old friends.

Wesley turned his attention back to the book he was reading. He was so *sick* of reading right now, but he was not going to be caught unprepared again. Angel had come to him for help, and he'd felt like such an idiot, having to admit he didn't know anything about telekinesis. He sure did now. There was something about Bethany, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, something he wasn't seeing.

"There is something." Wesley looked up, alarmed. Was Cordelia reading his mind? She continued, "She's got a vibe. I'm getting a vibe. She's viby."

"I didn't notice any vibe?" Wesley lied, feigning disinterest. He was curious to see what Cordelia was thinking.

"Women and sex, it's not like you guys, we see more levels."

Sex...SEX....he'd read something about that. His mind was clicking, and an idea was forming.

****

Pain. Humiliation. Remorse.

"You're sure nothing's broken?"

"I'm sure." Wesley suppressed a groan, as Cordelia put ice on his sore back. He closed his eyes and rubbed his elbow.

"What happened to approach her with caution?" Cordy was being unusually kind, which only made Wesley feel worse.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Confront the girl; attack her before she could get her defenses up. There was nothing like being slammed into a stone wall by an extremely disturbed telekinetic to give a man second thoughts.

Guilt.

Thoughts of his hatred for his own father threatened to bubble back to the surface, but Wesley quickly suppressed them. How ironic, that his own pain had provided him with the perfect words to say to Bethany. "...maybe we should send you home to your father." Once he'd guessed her secret, he had known just which buttons to push to completely send her over the edge, and this made him feel like a cruel bastard, indeed.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

Bethany had tossed Angel, like a rag doll, into the sunlight. Wesley could have gotten him killed, and this is probably what upset the ex-Watcher most of all.

Angel was furious, and Wes could hardly blame him. But surely Angel would understand, after he explained it to him.

A shadow loomed across the doorway, and Angel appeared, his fury still palpable. Wesley shrank back involuntarily and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You're gone." Angel sounded cold and angry.

Wesley's heart sank. The words were harsh, and the sentiment behind them worse. Cordelia had risen to his defense. That was unexpectedly sweet of her.

"I'm not firing anyone," Angel clarified.

Wesley straightened, pulling himself together. He just wanted to get away from there, from those judging eyes.

"I understand. My being here wouldn't exactly help *her* to feel trusting. I'll be at my flat. Call me if..."

If what? No one was going to be calling on him any time soon. Downcast, Wesley passed by Angel uncomfortably, on his way out the door.

"Wesley," Angel suddenly called out. "It helps that we know."

Angel was offering him an olive branch of hope. Wesley smiled sadly. "I hope so," was all he could say, before he disappeared through the doorway.

====================

The motorcycle roared in Wesley's ears, blocking out all thought. Why had he told them he would be at his flat? That was the last place he wanted to be.

He'd been riding aimlessly for over an hour, and he wasn't even sure where he was anymore. He knew where he wanted to be, though.

Twenty minutes later, Wesley was safely ensconced in the back booth of his favorite 'English' pub, a pint of dark ale in front of him. This was his sanctuary, his little bit of home, when life in L.A. became too much for him.

On a good day, he'd be hustling the 'tourists' at darts, his secret talent. Tonight he was there just to disappear...and to get royally pissed. The ale wasn't going to do the job though, and he motioned over a waitress, ordering a double scotch, which he downed in one shot. He quickly ordered another, finishing it off just as easily. The pain was easing now, both the physical and the emotional.

Wesley sunk further into the booth and he forced himself to relax. The pub was busy tonight. His eyes scanned the crowd; he wasn't sure what he was looking for. A familiar face jumped out at him, and he squinted, trying to get a better look. The blonde must have sensed someone was looking at her, because she looked up from her drink, directly at him. A bright smile lit her face, as she recognized him. He knew her; she had watched him play darts a few times. They had never spoken, but he'd heard her name - Ashley. He smiled back at her, and turned back to his drink. When he looked up again, she was no longer there.

"Hi."

Wesley jumped in surprise. Ashley was standing next to his booth, two drinks in her hands.

"Oh, uh, hello."

"Is this seat taken."

"N-n-no, it's not. Unless, uh, you would like it, then I suppose it would be."

<< Moron >>

Ashley didn't seem to notice his ineptitude. "You're sweet." She slid into the booth next to him. "I'm not really a two fisted drinker. I thought you might like one." She slid one of the drinks over to him.

"Thank you. I"m Wes, by the way." He offered her his hand.

"Ashley." Her hand was warm and soft. "I've seen you around here alot. You're British." It was a statement, not a question.

"I was...a lifetime ago."

"You're a killer darts player. They should slap a warning label on you."

"Ah, well, then I'd lose the element of surprise."

"I'll bet you could be surprising in alot of ways." Her hand was resting on his now.

"Oh....ah....yes, well....quite." He licked his lips nervously. He liked the feel of her hand on his.

"I like to watch you...play darts."

"I'd noticed."

Ashley raised an appreciative eyebrow at him and slid closer. "You meeting anyone here?"

"No, no. Totally alone."

"You don't have to be...alone, that is."

Wesley prayed the light was too dim in there for her to see how hard he was blushing. Her hand had moved to his thigh, and suddenly the idea of company was sounding very nice.

"I'd like that, to not be alone."

Neither of them spoke for a moment; all communication being done with their eyes. He leaned in and kissed her gently. Her hand moved up his thigh to his crotch, and the kiss intensified. Wesley felt a fire begin to burn in him, and it quickly spread throughout his body.

"I want you," she whispered in his ear.

"Where?" His own voice sounded hoarse and foreign to him.

"My place is just across the street."

Wesley tossed a few bills onto the table, grabbed his jacket, and followed the leggy blonde out of the bar. Ashley took his hand as they crossed the street, and led him up to her third floor apartment. He was barely in the door when she pushed him up against it, kissing him hard, her entire body rubbing up against his. He was responding, and his ability to form a cognitive thought was dwindling. Clothing was being pulled off, bare skin touched skin. He slid his hands inside her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra. He began to kiss every bit of skin he could see. She pulled his mouth to her breast and held his head there, as he sucked on her nipple.

Ashley undid Wesley's trousers and slipped her hand inside his shorts, and he moaned at the contact. He was just about to suggest they move to a more comfortable location when, out of nowhere, a single word came screaming into his conscious brain. 'ANGEL'

Wesley pulled back, startled. Why did he have to think of Angel right now? Ashley wore a concerned frown. Wesley cleared his throat. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Let me guess...you're married."

"No, I..."

"You're in a relationship, you had a fight, and you went to the bar to drown your sorrows."

Wesley felt somewhat relieved. "Something like that, I'm afraid. It-it's rather a new relationship, and I don't really know where we stand at the moment. I-I felt you should know."

"I appreciate you're honesty, Wes. I knew you were something special, the first
time I saw you. I'm going to be honest with you now. I have wanted to get in your pants since that first night, when you were so busy looking at me, that you threw a dart at that guy. I like to lay all my cards on the table, from the beginning...saves a lot of time. Does that bother you?"

"N-no, not really." His mind was spinning. No one had ever spoken to him like this before. Well, except for Angel...damn, there he was again, invading Wesley's mind, when all he wanted to do was forget. He wrapped his arms around Ashley. "Do you still...?"

"Want you?" she finished, as she reached up to remove his glasses. "What do you think?"

"Y-yes?" he squeaked. Her hand returned to its rubbing, and he felt himself growing even harder than before. "Oh, yesssss." She had him now - hook, line, and sinker. Ashley maneuvered him over to her bed, pushing him down, before climbing on top of him. The last vestiges of their clothing ended up on the floor, and she sat back, to momentarily admire Wesley's naked form. He was thin, but not excessively so. He was surprisingly muscular, and there was a light line of hair running down his chest.

Wes was watching her, and his clear grey eyes glittered with lust. His lower lip jutted out slightly, just waiting to be kissed. Ashley straddled his waist and leaned over him, sucking that lower lip into her mouth. Wesley's hands ran lightly up and down her back. She raised herself up and slowly began to lower herself onto his rock hard erection. His hips raised up to meet her, as his back arched and he threw his head back against the pillow.

Wesley had never known anything to feel so good. He cupped Ashley's breasts in his hands, as she road him up and down. Their sweaty bodies slithered together, when she bent down for a kiss. In one fluid motion, he flipped the two of them over, so that he was on top, in control. He thrust deeply into her, and felt her thrust her tongue into his mouth, matching his movements. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, and her hands held onto his ears, as she fucked his mouth with her tongue. He felt himself reaching the cusp, and his pace became quicker and more erratic. Ashley was moaning, and cried out "Now!" Wes thrust deeply one more time, and released himself inside her. They rode out their mutual climax and Wes collapsed on top of her, exhausted.

Ashley's hands continued to roam softly over Wesley's torso, as she planted kisses on his face and neck. She felt his breathing deepen, as he drifted off to sleep, and she pulled him to her tightly. Soon, she was asleep too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(the next morning)

Wesley awoke to a terrible headache. For a moment he wondered if he had somehow inherited Cordelia's visions. He cautiously moved to sit up, and found himself held down by something solid and warm. He opened his eyes, to find a beautiful blonde lying partially on top of him. It all came back to him in a spinning rush.

<< Ashley >>

Wesley lay back, and looked at the ceiling. Terrible feelings of guilt began to wash over him. Couldn't he ever escape the guilt? He worked to slide himself out from under the sleeping woman, and began to collect his clothing, putting it on as he found it. He didn't know what to say to her, so he felt it was best to just leave. He had just found his jacket and was heading for the door, when he heard her sleepy voice.

"Wes?"

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you. I have to go."

"I know. Hey, come here."

He turned to face her, his face grim.

"Don't look so worried. I just wanted to tell you what a great time I had last night. You're welcome back anytime, no strings attached. Okay?"

Wesley smiled fondly at her, and reached down to stroke her cheek. "Thanks. I had a nice time too." He bent over and gave her a quick kiss, then hurried out the door, heading for home.

(flashback to Angelus and Darla, 'back in the day')

"Angelus, Darling, I've brought you a present."

The vampire settled into his seat by the fireplace, and motioned for Darla to come sit on his lap.

"No, no, presents first," she teased, stepping into the other room.

Angelus licked his lips, fangs out, at the ready. "I hope it's something young and tender," he called out, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

Darla returned, leading a tall, slim figure, dressed in strange clothing, by the hand. "I turned him just for you, my Darling. A play toy of your very own."

Reality shifted; it was present day again, and Angel was in his bedroom at the Hyperion Hotel. He recognized Darla's 'gift' as Wesley, who stood silently next to her, arms hanging down, head cocked to one side, a peculiar grin on his face.

"Go to Daddy, Sweets. Show him what you can do."

Angel never saw Wesley actually move, he was just suddenly upon the vampire, wrapping his long arms around him, pressing his cool lips to Angel's. Now the kisses had moved to his throat. Angel groaned and his hand moved to find Wesley's crotch. The two men pressed their bodies together, the friction heating them both.

A hand was on Angel's crotch too now, and the kisses to his neck had become licks. Wesley's tongue glided over the soft skin in long, fluid strokes. Angel tilted his head to one side, to allow easier access. Without warning, Angel felt a sharp pain, as fangs dug into his neck, tearing jaggedly at his flesh.

Angel shoved himself away, and stared at the Demon-in-Wesley-form. Wesley's game face was made all the more hideous by the memory of how beautiful and innocent his human visage was.

Angel could do nothing but hold the ex-Watcher-turned-vampire at arms length, as Darla crowed delightedly, from her vantage point on the edge of the bed.

"Do you like him, Angelus? I made him just for you. Now he can be on our side."

Angel's mind screamed 'NO!' Wesley would never want this, and Angel couldn't allow it to continue. Darla had known he'd feel that way. Angel's eyes flitted around the room, and settled on the nightstand. Without releasing his hold on Wesley, Angel backed to the small table, and pulled open the drawer. He closed his eyes, steeling himself, before grabbing the wooden dagger from its resting place and driving it home, straight into the center of Wesley's chest. A look of annoyance crossed the younger vampire's face, as he exploded into millions of particles of dust.

Angel sank down onto the bed, his head buried in his hands, tears staining his face. The stake fell from his grasp, clattering to the floor.

When Angel awoke in bed, moments later, his face was strangely wet, and his heart was aching.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wesley thumbed absent-mindedly through one of his old books. He peered over at Cordelia, who had been struggling to balance the office books for the past two days. His offers of assistance had been met with the usual barbs and quips, which had been a grateful respite from their boredom. Angel had not been seen for three days, and the other two had long since run out of things to talk about. Unless....

Guilt rose up in him again. The young Demon Hunter had been so nervous about seeing Angel, the morning after his night with Ashley. He knew the two men didn't exactly have an exclusive relationship - they'd only actually been on one date, after all - but he was still uncomfortable with what he'd done. He loved Angel; nothing had changed, despite their strained relations of late. As the hours, then days, passed by though, his worry had turned to frustration and then to anger. Angel certainly didn't appear to be worried about *him*, as he slept the literal sleep of the dead.

Wesley had been prepared to confess all to Angel immediately; now he was tempted to spill his guts to Cordelia, just to get it off his chest. That would certainly give them something else to talk about. A slight noise from upstairs alerted the Angel-sensitive Wesley to the vampire's rising.

"He's awake," he declared, to no one in particular.

Cordy looked up and around. "Oh?"

"I'll go make him some tea."

"If it were me, I'd make coffee," Cordy mumbled to herself, before shrugging her shoulders, and returning to the books.

When Wesley returned with the tea, Angel had only made it as far as the landing. Wesley frowned, worry lines creasing his forehead. What did you say to someone who had been asleep for three days? He decided on the 'don't mention it - pretend it didn't happen' approach, and returned to his spot behind the front desk, and his book.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel wandered dazedly into the lobby, and plopped down on the sofa.

"We made you some tea." Wesley's neutral voice drifted over to him, from the desk.

"Great." He didn't move.

"It's on the table in front of you," Cordy added, without looking in his direction.

"Table seems far."

"Ah, you must be all worn out from sleeping for the last three days," she quipped.

Angel cringed - three days?! What was wrong with him? He lay his head back, eyes closed, and half-listened to Cordelia ramble...something about the books. Oh great, she'd pulled Wesley's chain again and the sniping had begun in earnest. He smiled to himself; his Wes was getting good at the quips, almost as good as Cordelia. However, Angel felt he should intercede when Wesley threatened to whack Cordy in the head with one of his 'big old books'.

"Children, quit bickering. Something will turn up. Something always does."

Just then, Cordelia was hit with a powerful vision, and the two men leapt to her side, supporting her writhing form, as the pain washed over her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wesley hurriedly followed the rest of the Angel Investigations team down the long stairway, which lead into the enormous cavern beneath the water tank.

Having ascertained that the site of Cordy's vision was beneath what was once a cursed convent in Fremont, they'd gathered their weapons and swung by to pick up Gunn. The dark, young man had brought his homemade axe, and was complaining about not getting paid enough for this sort of thing. As if any of them were.

The former Watcher looked at the huge, ugly demon with distaste, and worry. As he told Angel, Thrall Demons could be tricky to kill.

An enormous voice boomed out "Intruders!" And the gang was set upon by numerous black and red robed, human Thrall Demon groupies. No time to think now; instinct took over. Out of the corner of his eye, Wesley could see Angel pummeling one of the minions, as he lay helpless on the ground. He could hear Gunn's unsuccessful attempts to get Angel's attention.

A yelp from Cordy drew Wesley's attention to her. A disciple had her by the neck, and Wes rushed to her aid, thumping her attacker on the head. Meanwhile, Gunn had charged the large, slimy demon and buried his axe into Big Ugly's skull, effectively killing him.

The fighting stopped immediately - except for Angel, still raining punches on the guy on the floor. What was *wrong* with him? Wes stepped up to him, putting a gentle hand on the vamp's shoulder.

"Angel, it's over."

When there was no response, Wesley grabbed Angel from behind, pulling him forcefully off the bloody pulp of a man.

"STOP!"

Without saying a word, Angel shrugged Wesley off roughly, shoving him back. A shocked and hurt Wes backed away, returning to the others, his eyes never leaving the vampire.

The team made their way wearily to the surface again. Wesley began to approach Angel again, to offer comfort or a supportive ear, in case the vamp wanted to talk. Ignoring him, Angel tossed his car keys to Cordelia.

"Take the car. I need to..." Without looking back, Angel walked off, leaving the others gaping at his retreating form.

Wesley didn't know what to make of what had just happened. This was not the Angel he had known for over a year, the Angel he had fallen in love with. Something was drastically wrong, and he had no idea what to do about it. He tried, half-heartedly, to make excuses to Gunn, for him.

"He's just...he hasn't been sleeping well lately." It sounded hollow, even to him, and no one else was buying it either.


****

Wesley awoke to the sweet smell of perfume and clean skin, and to hair in his face. Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from the warm body curled against him, and he sat up to look down at the sleeping woman, remorse written all over him.

He hadn't intended to come here again. Well, he *had*, but just for the company. 'No strings', she'd said, when they had parted last. He remembered the warm smile she had greeted him with, when she'd opened her door to find him standing there, bottle of scotch in hand. It felt good to know someone was truly happy to see him.

The shy Brit had made it clear, up front, that nothing had changed in his personal life; that he was just there for the companionship, to talk. Ashley had agreed to that, and they'd settled comfortably on the couch, the bottle on the coffee table in front of them. They drank; he talked; she listened. Of course, Wes left out the part about his loved one being male, let alone a vampire, but he got his feelings across. She was sympathetic and understanding, and the sound of her voice, coupled with numerous drinks, relaxed him. Soon, an
offered backrub let to some light petting, which let to some serious necking and groping, which let to....

...Wesley waking up in her bed again, completely sated by the vigorous sex they'd enjoyed - twice - and completely horrified by what he's done.

****

(later that day)

Cordelia and Wesley were trying to entertain a potential paying client, while hoping Angel would show his face soon. It sounded like a straight forward case of a wife cheating on her husband, but a paying client was a paying client.

Angel's arrival up the basement steps brought relief all around. Cordy attempted to introduce her boss to Harold Jeakins, but the vampire brushed her off.

"Do you think my wife is cheating on me?" Harold timidly asked.

Angel kept walking towards his office. "Probably."

A moment of stunned silence followed, then Wes and Cordy began damage control.

"Oh, he-he really likes you; he's jumping right in." Cordy smiled her brightest smile.

Wesley led Harold to the front door. "He's eccentric, all the great ones are. Sherlock Holmes, Phillip Marlowe..."

Wes shut the door firmly behind Harold, and leaned forward, banging his head lightly against it, in frustration. Why were he and Cordelia working so hard to keep the business afloat, when the boss couldn't seem to care less? He spun around and stomped off in the direction of Angel's office.

Cordelia was already yelling at him about something. Wesley rolled up his sleeves, a determined expression on his face.

"I need to speak to you, man to man. Cordelia, you may not want to be here for this..."

Wesley was prepared to read Angel the riot act, but, coming face to face with Angel, an entirely different thought popped out of the younger man's mouth, without warning.

"Was it something *I* did?"

Where had *that* come from? That's not what he'd intended to say at all. Guilt was a cruel mistress.

"He was feeling my hair." Cordelia was obviously distressed, as was Angel.

The truth came tumbling out of Angel, at last. He told them he'd seen Darla the night before, on the promenade.

"I've been dreaming about her like crazy. And the dreams have been so...I thought I was losing my mind, but she's back; she's alive."

Wesley felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle, and his mind began to switch over, from concerned boyfriend/coworker to clinical Watcher. Angel had been dreaming constantly of his sire - erotic dreams, apparently - and now imagined he could see her in the flesh. It was impossible; Angel had staked her 3 1/2 years ago.

Wes tried to get through to his friend. "You said yourself you've been dreaming. Maybe it's guilt over killing your sire..." Wes knew a few things about guilt.

Angel wasn't really listening. "Maybe I was dreaming because she's here..."

Wesley persisted. "And maybe you think she's here because you're dreaming about her."

****

Nothing his two colleagues had said had swayed Angel from his belief that he'd seen Darla. Their pointless arguing had bee gratefully interrupted by a phone call from new client, Harold Jeakins. His wife had been 'abducted' again. Wesley caught him up to speed, while gathering up the necessary surveillance equipment, and Cordy had gone to change her clothes.

Now, Angel stood in a hotel bar, partially obscured by a potted plant, listening device in his hear, tape recorder in hand. He could see Wesley, furtively taking photos, under cover of a newspaper, and Cordelia, dressed in a skimpy waitress costume, planting the mike.

Harold's wife, Claire, was indeed there, meeting her lover. Angel looked on, disgusted, wondering why he was bothering with something so trivial, when he should be searching for Darla. As Claire and her lover started for the hotel elevator, Angel gave up, and moved to intercept them. Passing Wesley, he whipped the camera out of the startled man's hands, without saying a word.

Angel confronted Claire, berating her for forcing him into this crass situation of having to spy on her. He told her he didn't really care what she did, and tossed the camera in her direction, turning to leave. He had more important things to do.

****

Wesley had cringed behind his paper, watching Angel in stunned silence. When it appeared their boss was leaving without them, he and Cordy hurried to catch up. She was yelling at Angel for ruining the case - they needed that paying client.

Wesley approached his employer, but before he could say anything, Angel slammed the recording equipment harshly into his chest, sending the tall man backwards a few steps. What had he done to deserve that?

Angel was out of control. He was accosting a young, blonde woman, calling her Darla. The poor woman was obviously frightened, and they'd drawn quite a crowd. Wes tried putting his hand on Angel's arm, but was shrugged off.

"I know it's you. And I know you're not going out into that sun anytime soon." Angel was beside himself.

They all watched in stunned silence, as the woman broke free, running to her husband, directly into the sunlight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...at least there's a silver lining," Wesley was saying, as the rag-tag trio limped into their lobby/headquarters. They'd had to run for it, to avoid getting arrested.

"What silver lining," Cordelia griped.

"The woman walked into direct sunlight - obviously she's not a vampire; obviously, Angel...made a mistake."

Wesley was relieved that the truth had been revealed. Maybe now Angel would return to normal. The vampire was not ready to give up so easily, however.

"It was Darla. She's human now....but, I know her scent."

"Angel, you can't just sniff a person and know..." Wes began.

Angel leaned in towards Wesley, and sniffed at him, much like a dog would. "You had sex last night, with a bleached blonde."

There it was - the truth - out in the open. Wesley ignored Cordy's surprise that he had sex "ever', and watched for Angel's reaction. There was none. In fact, the vampire didn't seem to be surprised at all. Had he known from the beginning? Was this the reason for the distance between them? Wesley's heart sank, as he watched the man he loved ignore him, in his single-minded determination to locate the woman of his dreams, the woman who had sired him.

(the next evening)

Wesley woke with a start, disoriented at first. Cordelia hovered over him, anxiously.

"Angel's home," she whispered.

Wesley swung his legs off the couch and rubbed at his tired eyes. "Did he say anything to you?"

"Nope. He just stalked in and headed upstairs."

"Did he...? How did he look?"

"Well, he *looked* like Angel, but that doesn't mean anything..."

"Right, well, we're going to have to go and see."

"Uh...huh..." Cordelia nodded slowly, extreme reluctance in her voice.

They knew Angel had been with Darla. Kate had been sure to inform them that he had 'kidnapped' his sire, when the detective had invaded the hotel yesterday, bringing a gang of snooping cops along with her. Not that Kate had any idea who Darla really was.

If Angel was right about Darla, then maybe he wasn't so out of control after all. On the other hand, he'd been gone for over 24 hours, without any explanation.

Cordy picked up the tranquilizer gun. "Just in case." They made their way up to Angel's door.

Wesley listened close, but no sound was coming from the room. He wanted to know if Angel was alright, but he was tired, and didn't know if he was up to a confrontation, in case one should arise. He dug his hands deep into his pockets and nodded to Cordelia. After making a face at him, that clearly said 'Why me?', she knocked timidly.

"Angel...it's us."

Another minute of silence, and the duo was just about to lose its nerve, when the door quietly swung open, and Angel stood there, silent and serious.

Cordy attempted a bright, relaxed smile. "We didn't see you all day. We were just wondering if everything was - you know - copasetic."

Angel's voice was as cool as his expression. "I didn't go bad, Cordelia."

Wesley looked deeply at the face of his friend, hoping for...he wasn't sure what. Something. Anything. Was he just being paranoid, or was the vampire *avoiding* his gaze?

The nervous man felt a nudge at his back, and found Cordelia was shoving something at him.

"Mr. Fussy Pants here always imagines the worst."

Now Angel was turned towards him. That same unfeeling stare projecting towards Wesley, as the young man brought his hands around, revealing the tranq. Gun Cordelia had unloaded on him. He flushed in embarrassment. He didn't want Angel to know he had doubted him.

"What? I didn't...I never..."

"Is there anything else?"

Sure. Heartbreak. There was no sign that Angel cared for him at all. Wesley felt he had to say something...anything...to let the vampire know he cared, and was worried about him.

"Angel - be careful. With Darla back, in league with Wolfram and Hart, there are alot of forces arraying against you. There's going to be trouble."

He wanted to add that he would be standing by Angel's side, ready to assist, as always. But he didn't. Angel's laugh, and eager tone, shocked him.

"Yeah, there's gonna be alot of trouble. And I say, bring it on."

Without another word, the door was shut in Cordy's and Wesley's faces, leaving them to stand there, shocked, confused, and not a little bit frightened.


**********************************************


and if you call, I will answer
and if you fall, I'll pick you up
and if you court this disaster
I'll point you home
I'll point you home

'Call And Answer' - The Barenaked Ladies

*********************************************

(several hours later)

Angel wandered down the stairway, into the lobby, soaking up the darkness and isolation like an eager sponge that had been tossed into the ocean. He had hoped to find peace, once he'd confronted Darla without succumbing to her temptation, but it was a hollow victory. He was still alone...or was he?

Someone else was there...not in this room, but nearby. Angel's acute senses lead him to the courtyard, where a lone figure sat, cross-legged, on the concrete floor, back leaning against a wall.

The moon shone in from the open roof, bathing Wesley in it's soft, yellow light. Angel involuntarily sucked in a breath, as he remembered the last time he'd been alone with Wesley, under the moonlight. Closing his eyes, he tried to conjure up the sound of crashing waves, but was met only with continued silence.

Angel hesitated, not knowing whether to leave his friend in peace, or go to him. The soothing light, beaming in, caught on the bottle Wesley was raising to his lips, casting an eerie pattern on the floor in front of him.

"Hello, Angel."

The vampire visibly flinched. Wes wasn't facing him; how had he known he was there? Angel came down the stairs, then stopped again. Wesley turned to him, at last, the expression on his face unreadable. The man's mouth was pursed tight, his lips thin, but there was no anger in his dark, blue eyes. Those were fixed on him, wide and unwavering, almost pleading - but for what?

Wes raised the bottle of scotch to Angel, in a gesture of invitation, and Angel finally shook free, moving to join his slightly swaying associate on the hard ground. Accepting the bottle, the vamp took a long swig, before setting it far to his other side. Wesley scowled slightly, at the obvious gesture, but said nothing.

For a long time, neither of them spoke, Wesley contemplating his own hands thoughtfully. Angel followed his gaze, and also seemed transfixed by Wesley's long, slender fingers, as he fiddled with the cap from the scotch bottle. A need to feel those fingers touching him swept over Angel, in an overwhelming wave of desire, and he reached out, covering Wesley's hands with one of his own.

For one terrifyingly drawn-out moment, Wesley sat frozen, Angel fearing he would draw away from him, when, at last, the younger man raised his chin, briefly staring at the wall across the way, before turning his head in Angel's direction, a slight smile gracing his lips.

"I'm sorry," they both said, in unison, embarrassed grins following.

"So, what are you still doing here? I thought you'd be out somewhere, with your new girlfriend." Angel immediately wished he could take it back, as the smile faded from Wesley's face and he turned away from his vampire employer again.

"She's *not* my girlfriend, Angel," Wesley whispered, guilt lacing his voice.

"I came back here, because when I drink in public, I tend to do...stupid things."

At any other time, amusing images of Wesley dancing on a table, with a lampshade on his head, might have come to mind, but Angel wasn't feeling particularly amused.

"So, why drink at all?"

Wesley's head whipped around, his face twisted into a remarkable imitation of Cordelia's 'well, duh!' face. "Because I haven't been very happy lately," he snapped, annoyed at Angel's obtuseness.

It had been a long day, and Angel didn't have alot of patience with Wesley's snippiness. "And that's all *my* fault?" he snapped back.

"Well, let's see...you make dates with me, and then don't show up; you claim to want to have a relationship, and then ignore me, when at all possible. I know you've been suffering, but you won't let me help you, and you'd rather spend your days and nights having erotic dreams about a dead vampire - who, as it turns out, isn't all that dead after all - than be with me...so, I'm thinking... YES!"

Angel was taken aback. He'd not seen Wesley this angry with him since...since they'd argued about Angel helping Faith, after she'd tortured the former Watcher. Wesley's eyes were flashing, almost daring him to deny the accusations. Angel couldn't...but he wasn't going to let Wes off the hook either.

"So, how does it feel?"

"Wha - what?" Wes was thrown by the question.

"Well, you're not a virgin anymore. How was it?" Angel's satisfaction at Wesley's sudden blush and discomfort turned quickly to remorse. That damned guilt complex kicked in too easily sometimes.

Wesley was mumbling. "When...when I said that...that night we...that night on the beach..." Clearly, this was not a subject he was comfortable with, but he continued anyway. "...what I truly meant was, that I'd never *been* with someone I cared about...was in love with...I'd had things *done* to me – all boys school, you know - inevitable - and I have had...a few encounters with women..." And now Wes was searching out understanding in Angel's eyes. "With you it would be different. It would *mean* something. I love you."

His words hung between them, and neither man spoke for a full minute.

"You hurt me, Angel." Wesley's voice was soft, yet determined, when he continued. "You brushed me aside - again - for *her*, Bethany. I was angry, and hurt...and drunk. She...Ashley, wanted me, and it felt good to be wanted by someone. I'm not proud of what I did, but..."

Angel put a finger to Wesley's lips, silencing him. "I understand, Wes. It's okay." Angel didn't really feel *okay* about it, but couldn't really blame him either.

Angel took a deep, unnecessary breath, and blew it out slowly, as he ran his hand nervously through his perfectly coifed hair. He could feel Wesley's curious gaze boring into his skull, silently nagging at him, in that unique Wesley way. Shifting around to face his companion, Angel took both of Wesley's hands in his own.

"You want to know everything? You want me to tell you about the dreams? Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you." Angel paused, for dramatic effect, eyeing Wesley carefully. The other man just looked back, expectantly.

"Yeah, you were right. It started with Darla, coming to me in my dreams. I couldn't get enough of her. She was loving, and comforting, and told me she was the only one who was there for me." Wesley opened his mouth to speak, but, upon one stern vampire glare, wisely shut it again. "Then, they changed. I started dreaming about...you. It was nice, Wes, *really* nice. You and me, in bed, and I wanted you so much." Angel paused again. Wesley shifted a bit uneasily, but still remained silent, listening. "But, it never lasted. Darla was always there, and we...I...I can't say it, Wes. I can't."

Wesley pulled one of his hands free, and caressed Angel's cheek. "It's alright, Angel. You can tell me. They were only dreams."

Angel's voice grew harsh. "Don't you get it? To me, it was real! You know what I did to you...every time? I *killed* you! Every time! Sometimes, it was me alone, with Darla watching; sometimes, we did it together. Usually, I enjoyed it...I'm a monster, Wes. How can I stand to be near you, knowing what I'm capable of?!" Angel was yelling at him now, his agitation bouncing off the stone walls, like an agonized echo. "How can you bear to be near me?"

Wesley was as still as stone, a stunned expression on his face. With great deliberation, he carefully drew himself up, onto his knees, his eyes never leaving Angel's. The vampire could hear his accelerated heartbeat, and his shaking breathing. He waited, preparing himself for Wesley to flee the scene.

Without warning, Wesley shoved Angel as hard as he could, causing the stronger man to fall backward, sprawling. Wes was on top of him in an instant, his hands grabbing at fistfuls of Angel's black, silk shirt, his warm, wet mouth clamped tightly onto Angel's cool, dry one. Angel was too surprised to do anything, at first, but then slowly began to respond. He brought one hand up to Wesley's back, rubbing at it, tugging at the fabric covering it, impatiently, trying to get it out of the way. His other hand pressed at the back of Wesley's head, running mussing fingers through the short, brown hair, keeping that wonderful mouth in place. Then, just as abruptly, he pushed Wes away.

"I can't, Wes. This whole thing with Darla...it's not..."

He'd forgotten how stubborn the former Watcher could be, as another kiss cut off the rest of his protest. Gentle kisses began to move along his jaw line and down his neck, with Wesley speaking softly between each one.

"It's (kiss) okay, Angel. (kiss) I want to (kiss) show you (kiss)" ...Wes drew back, looking Angel directly in the eye. "...you can have me without killing me." The human had the vampire pinned to the floor by the shoulders. Both knew how easy it would be for the vamp to overpower him, but Angel continued to allow Wesley to dominate the situation.

Straddling Angel's hips, Wesley began to unfasten both sets of trousers. Each man could feel the other's increasing arousals, separated by only a few thin layers of cloth. As Wes ground into Angel, the vampire moaned, and the Watcher smiled, bending down to lick Angel's chest.

"Wes," Angel gasped. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather do this upstairs?"

"Here...now..." Wesley grunted, slipping his hand into Angel's pants, causing Angel to buck and shudder under him. All restraint was gone, as Wesley found the front of his shirt torn open, and a hand in his boxers. The rest of their clothing disappeared with lightning speed, and soon flesh was pressed to naked flesh. Precum was already leaking from Angel's rock hard shaft, and Wesley used that for lubrication, before raising up his hips, and lowering himself onto it, agonizingly slowly.

Angel tried hard not to move his hips up to meet Wesley, wanting to let him go at his own speed. He dug his fingernails into Wesley's hips, until the poor man finally laughed, "Angel! I would like to be able to walk again, after this." Chagrined, Angel loosened his grip, and closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of Wesley riding him up and down. Wesley's erection poked at his stomach and Angel reached down to rub and pull on it. The sounds of Wesley's groans turned him on even more, and when he couldn't stand it anymore, he rolled them both over, ramming hard into him, while jerking him off at the same
time. It wasn't much longer before both men reached climax, riding their mutual wave of pleasure together. Angel collapsed on top of Wesley's sweaty, pliant form, smothering him with kisses, until Wesley pushed him away, gasping for air.

"Angel, that was wonderful." Wesley smiled fondly at his lover, caressing his cheek. "I knew it would be."

Angel kissed him tenderly on the forehead, his face turning contemplative.

"This isn't going to magically fix everything you know. I still have to deal with Darla."

"Shhhhh! I know. Let's not talk about it tonight, okay? And don't think you're going to have to deal with it all on your own. You're going to have to get used to the fact that I'm here for you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Wesley tried to look stern, but the fact that he was lying naked under his boss, weakened his stance.

Angel looked down at him, lovingly, and kissed him again. "Well, I guess I'll just have to learn to put up with you, then, won't I?"

Wesley's response was to pull Angel to him, wrapping his long, lanky arms around him, holding him close. Angel could tell Wesley was on the verge of sleep, and settled closer, burying his face in the younger man's neck, and allowing sleep to claim him too. He was confident his dreams were going to be nothing but pleasant this time. He had Wesley there to protect him.

* * *