__Timely Rescue__
By Barb
Wesley contemplated the room from his shadowed corner. It wasn’t often that a human was invited to a demon auction.
Korlon’s was especially difficult to gain access to. The Tor’gak demon ran an exclusive auction house that offered the exotic, unusual
and more often than not, illegal.
The ex-watcher was here for two reasons: 1. to authenticate a set of watcher diaries from the time of Vlad Tsepish; and 2. to try to buy
a copy of the Avalon Grimoire. The legendary book of magic that was considered a Warlock’s Holy Grail.
Pryce was extremely surprised when Korlon himself contacted him and requested his services. The offered fee was incentive enough to show
up. The chance to witness an auction and possibly obtain the Grimoire was an added bonus.
Ever since he’d gone solo, not that he’d had much choice; Wesley had been slowly making a reputation as a translator and demon hunter.
His skills never truly appreciated when he worked for Angel, he soon found that the private sector would pay big money for them.
The invitation to Korlon’s just cemented it. Already he’d received three job offers for his particular skills and he’d only been in the
place for half an hour.
Wesley straightened and brought his mind back to the present, as the Tor’gak auctioneer approached him.
“Mr. Wyndam-Pryccce, thank you for accepting my invitation,” the chartreuse demon hissed as he held out a clawed hand. Resembling a
large chameleon, the Tor’gak stood as tall as the average man, exquisitely clad in an Armani suit. Amazingly, his lizard like face was
expressive and currently looked pleased to see the human. “You will make me a very rich man tonight.” Korlon said with a happy little
trill like hiss.
“The wards are authentic. The journals are real,” Wesley stated coolly, outwardly calm, while inside he was weary and strangely excited.
All day he’d been feeling anxious, like something very important was going to happen tonight. “I would be quite interested in finding out
where you acquired them,” the ex-watcher fought not to roll his eyes for that comment was the understatement of the year. He was more
than curious as to how the demon got his hands… claws rather… on the watcher journals. They were supposed to be under lock and key in
the vault of the London Chapterhouse.
It wasn’t common knowledge that Van Helsing was a watcher during the time of Vlad the Impaler. History and Bram Stoker muddled the truth,
much to the delight of the Council.
“Trade secret my friend,” Korlon stated a trifle smugly.
Wes nodded his understanding. There was only so much he could ask and expect an answer. It wasn’t as if he’d any desire to contact the
Council to enquire as to the journal’s disappearance. Nor did he really care.
“You’ll have to excuse me. The auction is about to begin,” his host said with an elegant bow, then turned and left the former watcher to
his own devices.
Once Korlon had departed, Wesley allowed himself to relax. Unconsciously he reached up and rubbed the silver scar on his neck. Ever
since he acquired the injury he had changed. He’d died that night in the park, his lifeblood soaking into the grass. How he was here
and what he’d become was still a mystery. So far the scholar’s research had come up empty. He hoped that the Grimoire would give him the
answers he sorely needed.
While outwardly his body hadn’t changed, inside was another matter all together. The core of his magical ability had drastically undergone
a transformation. Before his death, Wesley had been only marginally ‘talented’. He could perform low to middle magicks, but the high
magicks… true sorcery… was beyond him. Quite by accident and through sheer desperation, Wesley discovered his new ability.
A month ago he’d been hired to rescue a girl, taken by a coven, for the purpose of ritual sacrifice. He’d no trouble locating and even
freeing the girl. What he hadn’t been warned about, or prepared for, was the fact that the coven wasn’t made up of humans but of vampires.
He was quickly surrounded and didn’t hold much hope for his or the girl’s survival. With nothing left to loose, Wesley cast what could
only be considered as a suicide spell. Much too powerful, and guaranteed to burn him up, he flung the spell only to feel none of the
searing pain he’d expected. Instead a euphoric rush of *power*… energy flooded his mind and body. When the spell released he could only
watch amazed as a small orb of light hovered over his head and glowed brighter than the sun. He watched as it disintegrated the coven
leaving both he and the girl unharmed. There were no ill effects from the spell either. The normal exhaustion that characterized casting
at the top of one’s ability wasn’t there. In fact he felt better than ever. His throat no longer ached, his body felt strong and fit.
The moment he walked into his home after delivering the girl to her family, Wesley hit the books. Unfortunately his research had come up
empty. The only information he was able to glean was from an ancient Wiccan. The old woman took one look at Wesley and almost collapsed
laughing. It took several minutes and three glasses of brandy to calm the crone down. Annoyed the ex-watcher demanded to know what was
so funny.
The only answer he received was a cryptic comment that they hadn’t succeeded. That the prophecy will out in the end, and to consult the
Avalon Grimoire.
Which was the real reason Wesley was here at Korlon’s…
Wesley was brought back from woolgathering as the auction began. The brunet knew he had a while to wait until the Grimoire came up, as
it was the last item in the program, following the Watcher journals.
His keen blue eyes observed the sale, memorizing who bought what. He knew that he’d be contacted by some of the purchasers in the future.
Seeing as a few of the objects were cursed, and in one case haunted. How Wesley knew that, once again he hadn’t a clue. Yet another
mystery to solve…
It was getting to the point where he was no longer surprised at what he could do. It was like he’d finally become what he was meant to be.
Like the naive bumbling ex-watcher hadn’t been real, a guise to hide what he really was.
Suddenly something touched the edge of his awareness. Looking around the auction room, Wesley’s eyes widened a fraction in surprise.
‘What the hell is he doing here?’ the sorcerer asked himself. There standing at the entrance was Rupert Giles.
Wesley wrapped himself in the shadows and observed the Watcher. He’d never thought to see the man again, after his fantastic failure in
Sunnydale. Even after he’d joined Angel and his ‘mission’, the Ex-watcher encouraged Cordelia to contact Giles and the others. He had
wanted nothing to do with them.
Now the man was here, radiating tension and concern. Wesley extended his awareness and touched the Watcher’s mind. He encountered the
Warlock’s own wards and easily slipped through them, making sure not to announce his presence, nor to hurt the older man. He resisted
reading everything and concentrated just on finding out why Giles was at Korlon’s. Ah there it is. The Journals… Rupert wanted the Van
Helsing journals. Wesley sipped back into himself and smiled.
* * * * *
Giles shivered. Ever since he walked into the Auction room he felt someone watching him. Looking around he didn’t see anyone, but the
feeling was so strong. At one point he felt as if someone had touched his mind, but his wards didn’t announce an unwanted presence. He
chalked it up to fatigue and nerves. Not to mention being in the presence of so many hostile demons set the watcher on edge.
Upon returning to England after Buffy’s death, Rupert had set himself up as an occult consultant and researcher. Like in Sunnydale, the
former Watcher opened a small, but flourishing, magic shop in Cheapside. Occasionally, the warlock was offered jobs from the council.
This was one of them.
Three months ago malevolent forces broke into the London Chapterhouse. Seven Watchers lost their lives, and the vault had been pillaged.
All of the items had eventually been recovered, except the Van Helsing journals. It had taken all the resources of the council to locate
who had them. Which is were he came in. Rupert was the only one who could get into Korlon’s auction house.
While he’d been the active slayer’s watcher, Rupert had come in contact with the Tor’gak demon on more than one occasion. The last time
had been just before Buffy died, when they were desperate for information about Glory.
Shaking off the morose mood that still accompanied thoughts of Buffy, Giles consulted the Auction Guide and breathed a sigh of relief.
The next item was the journals. He wasn’t too late.
* * * * *
Wesley watched as Giles began to bid for the journals. Demand for them was high. It seemed the older man’s greatest competition was a
well-dressed man flanked on either side by bodyguards. Once again extending his senses, Pryce slipped into the man’s mind. He quickly
recoiled when he realized that the man was a vampire… a Master no less. Even such a brief touch left him feeling dirty.
‘Damn!’ Wes thought to himself. The ex-watcher had gleaned exactly what the vamp was willing to pay and knew that Giles could easily
match it, since he was fully authorized to bid whatever it took to obtain the journals, no matter the cost.
The only problem was that Rupert would not live long enough to return to England with his purchase.
* * * * *
Giles’ pleasure at having his final bid accepted was short lived. He realized that the sharp dressed man bidding against him was not
human and that he was going to have some trouble getting out of L.A. alive.
Sighing, Rupert sat back after presenting his placard number. He couldn’t retrieve his property until the auction ended. He ran through
his options and thought he needed a miracle if he were to survive. He hoped that he could make a quick getaway at the end of the auction.
Not able to think of a better solution, he watched the last item come up.
He truly wished that he had enough money to buy the Avalon Grimoire. Unfortunately, when he discussed the book with the Council
‘moneyman’, he couldn’t convince him to authorize the purchase.
Once again the bidding was fierce. The figure had reached $10,000 and down to one bidder, when suddenly a new voice called out… $11,000.
Giles looked around and was shocked when he realized who the new bidder was.
“My God, Wesley,” Rupert muttered as he took in his former associate. The older man catalogued his fellow Englishman, noting changes
that apparently ran deeper than just clothing.
Gone were the prissy suits and glasses, which had characterized the younger man. He noted casually, that the untailored slacks, shirt and
suede jacket seemed to fit the man’s new image.
Rupert spent a few minutes studying Wesley’s’ face. He noted that the innocence and arrogance that had once shone from his eyes blue
eyes was gone. In its place were strength, sorrow and an odd wisdom that should have been incongruous in the young man, but again
strangely fit. Even his voice had changed. Still soft spoken, Wesley no longer sounded like an annoying prat. Instead his voice was
rough, like he was barely recovered from a cold and underlying all that was a hint of steel that intrigued the older man… a lot.
Giles continued to shamelessly watch Wesley as he bid for the Grimoire. He couldn’t help grin at the satisfaction in Pryce’s eyes as he
out bid the competition for a staggering price of $25,000. He couldn’t fathom how Wesley could afford that amount, but he noted that the
young man didn’t seem displeased.
Wesley was well satisfied with how the auction turned out. The Englishman had been quite prepared to go as high as $50,000 for the book.
He sensed Korlon approach him and turned to face the demon.
“Congratulations Mr. Wyndam-Pryccce,” the lizard man smiled at the human. “Should I assume that you would like me to put your
consultation fee towards your purchase of the Grimoire?”
Wesley nodded politely. "That would be acceptable. Will you accept a personal cheque for the remaining $10,000?” the ex-watcher asked.
“But of course,” Korlon’s toothy grin was slightly menacing. Wesley inclined his head in understanding at the unspoken threat, knowing
full well that should he not be able to cover the cheque, Wesley wouldn’t live much past the bank’s call to the demon announcing the lack
of funds.
“I’ll let you conclude your business. It’s been a pleasure; I do hope that we may do business in the future.” The Tor’gak held out his
hand and Wesley gingerly clasped it.
“Thank you. It has indeed been a most… interesting experience,” the ex-watcher replied.
Wesley turned in time to see the vampires follow Giles as the older man went off to collect his journals, and cursed. He glared at the
retreating back of his host, for distracting him, and then hurried after Rupert.
Knowing that Giles wouldn’t stand a chance against so many, the younger man sped up until he caught up to his fellow Englishman, “Mr.
Giles, thank you for waiting for me.” Wesley said as he pushed his way past the vampires and stood beside the warlock. “I’ll be but a
moment, and then we can be off.” The blue-eyed man grinned inanely and patted his jacket, fumbling in his pockets, “I know I have my
chequebook here somewhere.”
Giles stared as Wesley strode up to him and started babbling. The younger man sounded so much like how Rupert remembered him, that for a
moment, he didn’t trust what he’d earlier observed about the ex-watcher. That is until the older man caught the look in Pryce’s eyes.
Giles fought to keep from gaping in shock at the soft glow of *power* that briefly flashed in their fathomless blue depths.
Rupert pasted a smile on his face, hoping that he looked calmer than he felt. “That’s quite alright, Wesley. I don’t mind waiting,” the
former librarian said. He glanced around and saw that one of the vampires was lurking in the corner. The leader and his other two
flunkies were ominously missing.
Wesley smirked at the older man’s momentary confusion. He was pleased that Rupert caught on quickly. Keeping his awareness open, the
sorcerer sensed that most of his ‘adversaries’ were no longer in the building, but laying in wait in the parking lot.
It didn’t take long to conclude his business and Wesley soon had the Grimoire in hand. He had to mentally shake off the book’s siren
call. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his flat and discover its secrets. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that until Giles was
safe. Sighing, Wesley tucked the tome into his satchel and once again faced his former colleague.
“Come along Mr. Giles, we mustn’t keep the nasty vampires waiting,” Wesley smirked as he spoke Sumerian, knowing that only the librarian
would understand.
Rupert frowned at the childish glee shining from Wesley’s eyes. It took the older man a few seconds to translate, which caused the older
man to glower, “I’m not exactly armed for combat,” he replied peevishly in the same language, “I’ve only just arrived from the airport.”
Giles didn’t understand why Wesley was so cheerful when he obviously knew they were walking into a trap.
Standing beside Rupert, Pryce chuckled, his eyes hardening as he steered his colleague to the door.
Giles had no choice but to let himself be led to the parking lot. He didn’t hold much hope of coming out of this unscathed, let alone
alive. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?” the Englishman asked Pryce. He clearly remembered the young man’s efforts at
fighting and sent up a prayer to whatever deity that looked after ex-watchers, and men foolish enough to think they were warriors.
Wesley ignored the derision in Giles voice, it wasn’t as if he didn’t deserve it for his less than stellar showing in Sunnydale, and
quickly centered himself. Instantly he felt the *power* flood him, grounding the younger man. He ‘felt’ his surroundings, and mapped
out where each vampire was in relation to himself. The newly formed sorcerer readied the same spell that he had previously used so
successfully, making only a small alteration, and continued to guide his companion to his SUV.
Giles blood froze as he felt a sudden rush of power flow through him. He surreptitiously looked around in order to discern who was
wielding it. “Good Lord!” he muttered as he glanced at Wesley. Focusing his inner eye, he was stunned to see the younger man practically
glowing with *power*. He sent out his awareness and ‘touched’ Wesley. The moment his mind touched the other it was grasped and analyzed.
Rupert was completely overwhelmed. Not since being with Ethan Rayne had he felt such *power*. Even Willow at her worst didn’t come
close to the shear ability that Wesley now had.
Between one heartbeat and another, his *power*and Wesley’s merged… became one. Seconds later he was gently released, with something
close to a caress. Giles felt almost bereft, not to mention slightly light-headed, at the loss of contact.
Wesley was surprised when Giles extended his *power*and touched him. Normally he would have blasted the other for attempting to read him,
but knowing it was the older man, he figuratively took the tendril of *power* in his ‘hand’ and drew it into him. He didn’t mean to merge
their power, but upon realizing what he’d done, he carefully nudged it back to Rupert with a little stroking pet of farewell.
Wesley quickly tabled the experience for later analysis, and brought his attention back to the danger at hand. Confidently striding to
his vehicle, he stopped when two vampires barred the way, in full game face.
“Gentlemen, you have something that belongs to me,” a cultured European voice stated from behind them.
Giles shook off his befuddlement and matched Wesley’s pace. He had far too many questions to ask the younger man and hoped that they
would survive the next few minutes. Of course, now that he’d seen the kind of *power*Wesley wielded, he was slightly more confident that
he’d get the chance.
Wesley blinked, “I don’t think so… why don’t you run along and take your dogs with you.”
Rupert groaned at Pryce’s taunt. ‘Was the man trying to get them killed?’
“Such bravado,” the master vampire said chuckling. “I just want the journals. Give them to me now and I’ll kill you quickly, otherwise…”
the Euro vamp trailed off, his handsome face morphing with a snarl. He wanted those journals. For centuries he’d been obsessed with
Vlad Tsepesh, slowly grooming himself in the image of the legendary vampire. To have been outbid by a human, was unacceptable.
Giles watched silently, cursing himself for not having any weapons. He had only intended to stay in LA long enough to obtain the
journals and catch the next flight out. It was stupid to think that he could accomplish the task without trouble.
Wesley spared a glance at his companion; the ex-watcher knew that Giles had felt his *power*, but was unaware of what he was prepared to
do to keep them safe. “I’ll give you one chance to let us leave in peace,” the Sorcerer stated calmly, more than willing to let them
leave without resorting to violence, but also ready to act.
“Human, under any other circumstances I’d turn you for the audacity you’re showing, but my patience is growing thin,” the urbane vampire
stated as he motioned for his minions to attack.
Giles stiffened at the vampire’s comment about turning Wesley, for there was no way in hell that he’d allow that to happen. He didn’t
have time to analyze his reaction as he readied himself to fight. He was thrown off though, when Wesley’s hand slipped into his, the
younger man’s fingers lacing with his own. Distracted by the feel of the long, strong digits, Rupert only snapped back into the now;
when he felt Wesley give his hand a little squeeze.
At the vampire’s signal, Wesley took hold of Giles’ hand and released his will. At first it felt like nothing was happening, then Wes
started to glow as the approaching vampires froze in uncertainty.
He exalted in the rush of *power* flooding through his body. He was a living conduit for the primal forces he wielded, and he flung them
outward, wrapping Giles in a protective ‘blanket’, while seeking out the enemy.
Giles couldn’t take his eyes off of Wesley, even though he knew he should be watching out for the vampires. The older man was barely able
to comprehend what was occurring. Once again he felt Wesley reach out and envelope him in energy. It was unlike anything he’d ever
experienced. He watched the *power* lick out and turn the vampires into walking torches, burning them until they were dust, yet he felt
safely cocooned.
As the last vampire was destroyed, Wesley drew back the *power* and ended the spell, ensuring that Giles remained unharmed as he did so.
The younger man looked at his companion and smiled, “Well that was fun,” he stated wryly.
Rupert turned to Wesley and raised and eyebrow, “Fun? I do think an explanation is in order,” the comment was such a gross understatement
that he couldn’t help the nervous chuckle from escaping. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry, just relieved that they had
survived.
Wesley blinked at that older man and conceded, “You’re right. Do you have accommodations?” Pryce asked as he opened the passenger door
and gestured politely to Rupert. He felt a tad sheepish at his behaviour, but couldn’t help the euphoria that the successful use of his
*power* gave him.
“Honestly I hadn’t intended to stay in L.A. I only have the clothes on my back,” Giles admitted. He clipped his seatbelt and kept an
eye on Wesley as the ex-watcher climbed into the SUV. It was only after the vehicle was moving did the older man start to relax.
Wesley smiled at Giles as he drove away from the auction house, “Do you mind very much if we stop for something to eat? I’m famished,”
he asked as his stomach rumbled.
Giles looked at Wesley noting the sudden gauntness of his face. Quickly surmising that the spell the younger man triggered depleted his
stores, causing the terrible hunger. “I haven’t had a decent meal all day,” he admitted, ”Airline food leaves much to be desired, even
if it was British Airlines. Though I still demand to know what the hell happened back there.” Now that the danger was over, his natural
curiosity was niggling at him to find out how Wesley managed that spell.
Wesley nodded his agreement and directed the SUV into town.
With that decided, the two men slipped into a comfortable silence; both taking the time to analyze the events of the last fifteen minutes.
Wesley was pleased with his performance. He hadn’t made a fool of himself in front of his ex-colleague and more importantly he’d
successfully used and manipulated his newfound ability. Once again he felt better than ever. Other than the gnawing hunger, his mind
was clear and his body didn’t ache. Before his ‘death’ Wesley found that every time he used magick, it seriously exhausted him. He’d
felt like he’d run a marathon, his body would ache and all he wanted to do was sleep… that wasn’t the case now.
Giles sat back and watched the lights of L.A. roll by. Never in his wildest imaginings had he expected to run into Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.
Now that he had, the green-eyed man was pleased, and not just because Wes had saved his life. The older man had, for some time now,
wanted to apologize to Pryce for his behaviour in Sunnydale. The ‘blueberry scone’ crack alone, caused him shame to this day. Giles
felt that he’d never given the young man a chance to prove himself, and was something he regretted very much.
It was only after Rupert’s return to England that he discovered quite by accident, that Wesley was supposed to fail. That the council
wanted to have an excuse to sack the young man… or worse. Try as he might, Giles never discovered why the council was determined to get
rid of the man, all he knew was that they were disappointed that he still lived.
In light of what he’d just witnessed, Giles wondered if Wesley’s new abilities might be the reason behind the council machinations.
One thing was certain; there was no way in hell that he was going to tell anyone at the Chapterhouse what he’d discovered tonight.
Wesley was seriously hungry and was having a difficult time thinking about anything else but food. His stomach growled and grumbled its
displeasure. Thankfully they had arrived at his favourite steakhouse. Wes wanted… needed meat! For the past five minutes the sorcerer
was obsessing about large slabs of grilled beef, sautéed mushrooms and a baked potato with all the trimmings. The very thought had
saliva flowing and he had to swallow to keep from drooling.
Before Giles could climb out of the SUV, Wesley gently grasped his arm, “If you wish to leave the journals, I can ward the vehicle. I
promise they’ll be safe from every conceivable situation, baring nuclear attack… maybe even then,” the young man gave a confident smile.
Rupert gazed at his companion and nodded. He placed his satchel under the passenger seat, making sure to grab his wallet, then climbed
out of the SUV.
Focusing his ‘sight’, Giles closely observed Wesley as he set what had to be some of the strongest wards he’d ever witnessed around, and
even in the vehicle. Subconsciously the warlock tested the wards and was very pleased. To the untrained eye, the SUV was completely
unremarkable. Just looking at it you felt no desire to break in. It simply oozed a feeling of ‘I’m just an old truck, nothing to steal
here.’ To one with any magical ability, it screamed ‘touch at your own risk.’ The ward felt alive and seemed to look inside him, as if
to ascertain if he was ‘friend or foe’.
Flabbergasted, Giles was about to question the younger man about what he did, when he got a good look at Wes’ face, and knew that his
desire for answers could wait until Pryce had eaten.
Wesley was just itching to get into the restaurant. He kicked himself for not driving through a take out window for something to tide
him over. He really wanted food… now!
Hurriedly heading towards the entrance, Wesley waited impatiently for Giles to catch up. He rubbed his stomach and looked longingly at
the entrance of the eatery, moaning as the smell of well-grilled meat hit his nostrils.
Giles bit back a laugh at the ecstatic expression on Wesley’s face as he joined the younger man. He couldn’t resist patting Wes’ flat
belly, “Let’s quiet the beast, shall we?” He did chuckle at the little boy grin that formed on his companion’s reddening face, all the
while cataloguing how firm the body under his hand had been.
Wesley blushed when Giles patted his stomach, “Hungry” he whined while grinning endearingly. He wasn’t sure if he was blushing due to
his stomach’s antics or the lingering warmth of Rupert’s hand. Self-analysis dissolved as his tummy growled once again. “Come on,”
Pryce said as he grabbed Giles’ arm and dragged the man into the restaurant.
Rupert was pleasantly surprised at the restaurant’s interior. He was expecting the usual tacky American styling… a Texan nightmare of
horns and leather; instead the ambiance was elegant and cozy. The hostess led them to a comfortable booth, handed them menus, and
promised to send their waitress over as soon as possible.
The ex-librarian watched Wesley pour over the menu, while impatiently tapping his right hand on the table. Smiling, Rupert leaned over
and placed his hand over the restless fingers. “I know you’re hungry, but do try to relax.”
Wesley looked up in surprise and blinked at the hand covering his. It took a moment for the younger man to comprehend what Giles was
saying. When it finally soaked in, he once again blushed and concentrated on perusing the menu, unaware that Rupert hadn’t removed his
hand.
Giles felt the tension in Wesley’s hand loosen and turned back to his own menu, he too not realizing that he hadn’t let go of the younger
man.
They sat that way until they heard someone clear their throat. It was only then that Wesley realized that Giles hadn’t let go of his hand.
Wes slipped his hand out from under Rupert’s and looked at the waitress standing at the end of the booth. The young woman smiled at him,
“Good evening, my name is Brandy. Have you decided what you’d like? If not I can take your drinks order and come back in a few minutes.”
The waitress looked at the two men and mentally sighed, ‘why were all the good looking ones taken?’ she asked to herself.
Giles looked at Wesley and was relieved that the man wasn’t embarrassed over him holding his hand. It had seemed perfectly natural for
Rupert to continue doing so and the older man never gave it another thought. Looking at their waitress he smiled politely, “I think
we’re ready to order,” he said as he glanced at Wesley, chuckling at the enthusiastic nod.
“Indeed, I’ll have the 12 ounce porterhouse steak, medium rare, sautéed mushrooms, a baked potato with everything,” Wesley rattled off as
once again his stomach growled. “May we also have a bottle of your house red?” he asked, looking at Rupert.
Giles raised an eyebrow at Wesley’s order and nodded, “Red wine will be fine, but we’ll both start with a house salad, mine with ranch
dressing, Wes?” he narrowed his eyes at his companion when Pryce was about to argue.
Wesley looked at Giles and was about to complain about not wanting a salad. He quickly changed his mind at the ‘don’t argue with me,
this is for your own good,’ glare that was directed at him, “Ranch is fine with me too.”
“Good, we’ll also have a some garlic bread. Then I’ll have the 8 ounce prime rib, medium rare, with steamed veg and a baked potato.” He
closed his menu and gave Brandy a charming smile. “Would it be possible to have the salads right away?”
Brandy watched the interaction of the two men and bit back a giggle; they were just too cute together. “Of course, I’ll be back with the
wine and salads quick as a bunny.”
Giles smiled at the retreating waitress, then turned his attention to Wesley, “So do we eat first then discuss tonight, or…” he trailed
off when he realized that Wes was staring at him, but not really listening. “Wesley? What’s wrong?”
Wesley couldn’t say exactly what was bothering him. It had been such a long time since someone had paid any attention to him… well good
attention that is… let alone his eating habits; that he was unsure what to think. That it was Rupert… well that brought up some
unresolved feelings that he hadn’t thought about since leaving Sunnydale in a blaze of failure. “Umm nothing,” he attempted to slough
off Giles’ concern, as he attempted to gain some form of mental equilibrium. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax, “I’m sorry,
I was just wool-gathering, what did you ask me?”
“I was wondering which you preferred: a discussion of tonight’s events over dinner, or waiting until we finished,” Giles reiterated, all
the while wondering what was going through the younger man’s head.
“After please. I don’t think that I’ll be able to concentrate until I’ve eaten,” Wesley said with a smile of apology. He knew that
Giles was dying of curiosity, as indeed he would be if their positions were reversed, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to form
coherent conversation until he’d fed the gnawing ache in his stomach. “Just how long does it take to make a salad anyway?” he muttered
leaning out of the booth to see if he could find their waitress.
Rupert stifled a laugh at Wesley’s antics. He sounded so very petulant, that the older man was amused. “I’m sure she won’t be very long,”
he said soothingly just as the waitress arrived not only with their drinks, but the salads and garlic bread.
Nodding his thanks to the waitress, Wesley waited long enough for Giles to be served his salad, before he single-mindedly decimated his
appetizer. As he ate, Wes hummed in satisfaction.
Giles watched as his companion consumed his greens, while nibbling on some bread. Again he was amused at Wesley’s antics. Rupert
wondered if Pryce was aware of the sounds he made while eating. He didn’t think so, and wasn’t about to make the younger man
self-conscious, as it was clear he was enjoying his food.
It wasn’t long until they were finished with their starters, and the two chatted as they waited for their main course. The conversation
was kept light, as they playfully argued over football teams, who was going to make it to the British world cup team, books they had read,
and strangely enough movies they’d enjoyed. Through some unspoken agreement, the two men kept away from work related topics, or mutual
acquaintances, and it wasn’t long before their meals arrived.
While Giles did enjoy his meal, he took greater pleasure in watching Pryce devour his. The younger man practically swooned in ecstasy
when his steak was placed before him. Rupert had never seen a man enjoy his food more than Wesley seemed to be. Wes’ table manners were
still impeccable, but his concentration was totally on his plate.
Wesley wouldn’t have cared if the food were inedible; and dove into his meal with an enthusiasm that was completely unprecedented for the
lithe man. Normally he only ate to survive. Rarely did he do more than fix himself a sandwich and tea while researching. More commonly,
he forgot to eat altogether and only consumed food when his stomach bitterly complained. Since his ‘death and resurrection’, Pryce
continued this pattern, except when he cast. Then the gnawing hunger took over, and he found an almost orgiastic pleasure in eating.
Finishing his meal first, Giles relaxed into his seat, and sipped his wine. He briefly wondered at how comfortable he was sitting with
Wesley, when in the past, just being in the same room with the young watcher used to set him on edge. Pushing that thought aside for
later analysis, Rupert’s agile mind, despite trying not too, ran through various theories; all the while watching his companion. At one
point Wesley moved his head and Giles caught a glimpse of something that froze his blood. There on the left side of Wesley’s throat, was
a scar. Raised, silver, and wicked, it circled almost the entire half of his neck. Having seen wounds such as that before, Giles was
frankly surprised that Wesley was sitting here. Even more disturbing, was how the thought of Wesley almost dying upset him a great deal.
‘What kind of hell had Wesley gone through, since leaving Sunnydale?’ Giles pondered, while suppressing the need to touch the younger
man’s scar, as well as making sure that his pulse was still strong.
Pryce sighed in satisfaction as he neatly placed his cutlery on the now empty plate. He looked up and smiled shyly at his dining
companion. Looking in Giles’ eyes, Wesley read the curiosity and burning questions in his green orbs. Sighing, Wes sat back, “Thank you
for your patience. What would you like to know?”
Giles snorted at Wesley’s choice of words, “I didn’t have much choice. It was either let you eat in peace, or run the risk of having to
perform the Heimlich because you were trying to eat and talk at the same time,” he stated as he smiled teasingly at his dinner companion.
Pryce raised an eyebrow about to protest, then grinned, “You’re probably right,” he conceded. “Well you have two options. We can stay
here and I tell all, or we can go to my flat and over a supremely superior brandy, I answer all of your questions.” Whichever choice was
fine with him. Though if he had his way he’d put off the inquisition until they were at his place and he could fully relax.
Giles looked at his watch, “Since I’ve missed the last flight to the UK, why don’t we find a hotel for me to stay and talk there?”
Blinking, Wesley looked at his own watch and nodded. “Nonsense, I have a spare bedroom. Knowing the Council, they haven’t issued you an
expense packet. Why pay for a hotel room out of your own pocket. It’s a comfortable room, I promise.” Wesley offered with a smile; then
signalled their waitress as he fished out his wallet.
When the woman approached he handed her his credit card and sat back to wait Giles’ decision.
Rupert couldn’t deny that the room would be paid by his own funds since tight-fisted bastards, who pinched ever penny possible, ran the
Council. He noted the sincerity in Wesley’s eyes and nodded, “Thank you. I’d be pleased and grateful. It seems that you’ve been coming
to my rescue all evening,” he chuckled at the blush that crept across Wesley’s cheeks at his words.
Ignoring his own embarrassment, Wesley laughed, “That must have hurt to admit?”
“You have no idea,” Rupert allowed himself to chuckle, thus ensuring that Wes knew he was teasing.
“Come on, brandy and an explanation await,” Pryce said as he slipped out of the booth, and tucking his wallet away, waited for Giles to
join him.
He confidently led them to the SUV and released the wards as if it were an afterthought.
Giles silently followed noting how Wesley seemed to finally feel comfortable in his own skin. Rupert found his maturity and ease;
strangely alluring, and he once again wondered where these thoughts were coming from. ‘Don’t be daft man!’ he mentally chided himself.
‘Yes he’s attractive, but… but what?’ Giles couldn’t think of one reason why he shouldn’t feel the way he did. It wasn’t as if he was
going to act on it. That firmly in mind, he allowed himself to admire Wesley’s behind as they ventured to the car.
The blue-eyed man turned to his companion and wondered at the strange heat flashing in Rupert’s eyes. He held the passenger door open
for the older man and noted, not for the first time, how good Giles looked. The years had been extraordinarily kind to his fellow
Englishman, and Wesley wasn’t overly concerned to feel the long buried lust that so tormented him, three years ago, rise. In fact Pryce
found that he more than liked the emotion.
This was the first time since his ‘death’ that he was feeling something. Wesley had long wondered if by gaining his new ability, he
traded in his emotions. But now, the ex-Watcher realized that they weren’t gone… they just hadn’t found anything… or anyone… to focus
on.
Now seated next to Giles, Wesley felt content… even happy.
* * * * *
During the ride home, Wes asked Giles about England and found himself quite interested in the answers he received.
Rupert told the younger man all about his shop and the consultation work he did for the British Museum, as well as for the Council. It
was gratifying to discuss his work with someone who not only understood what he was talking about, but was also interested.
They spent the remainder of the trip to Wesley’s place discussing Anatolian death practices, both enjoying bickering over various
interpretations.
Before long, Wesley was pulling into his parking spot, stopping next to his Big Dog motorcycle. He inwardly smiled at the dismay on
Giles’ face as the older man took in the rundown apartment building.
Rupert winced as Wesley parked in front of a shabby looking tenement. Wondering that despite the condition of the vehicle, and
astronomical amount his companion paid for the Grimoire, if Wesley wasn’t as well off as he thought.
Giles didn’t like the thought that the younger man lived in an apartment that was barely a level up from a flophouse, and couldn’t
possibly be up to ‘code’.
Climbing out of the SUV, Wesley waited for Giles to alight, before arming the alarm and resetting the wards.
Temporarily distracted from chiding Wesley about the sad state of the apartment building, Giles stood admiring the motorcycle. It was a
beautiful machine, and he was tempted to touch the shiny handlebars. Just as his fingers came in contact with the chrome, he felt the
now familiar tingle of Wesley’s wards. Astonished he looked at the younger man only to encounter laughing blue eyes and an impish smile.
“Yours?” he asked.
“Yes, I couldn’t bear to part with it when I bought the SUV,” Wesley admitted, “Do you ride?”
“Lord yes! But it’s been far too many years,” Giles said with a longing look at the bike.
“How about we take her out tomorrow?” Pryce offered, “I have two helmets.” He couldn’t wait to see Rupert’s face when he caught sight of
the pink helmet.
Giles’ eyes lit up at the prospect of riding the chopper. He hadn’t lied when he stated it had been years since he rode, not since he
was Ripper. Damn but did he miss it!
Wesley watched the play of emotion flit across Rupert’s face. He vowed to himself that before the older man left L.A., he’d get to ride
the Big Dog. He’d even let him wear the black helmet. “Come on, let’s get inside.” Pryce said as he steered Giles towards the entrance
of his building.
Taking one more longing look at the motorcycle, Giles allowed himself to be led away. Once more he felt dismayed at the condition of
Wesley’s home as they entered his apartment. Looking around the flat, Rupert wondered how the younger man could live in such shabby
conditions, while owning the SUV and the Big Dog, unless he was financed to the hilt. Not to mention afford to buy the Avalon Grimoire.
Wesley smirked as he observed Giles’ reaction to his home, “Make yourself comfortable,” he said as he waved a negligent hand towards the
dilapidated sofa.
Giles swallowed as he looked at the couch, not sure if he wanted to sit on it. He couldn’t hazard a guess at what some of the stains
were, and didn’t want to think about them as he gingerly sat down.
Wesley went into his tiny kitchen and took a moment to suppress his amusement. After pouring two tumblers, half full of whiskey, he
brought them to Giles. “Here you go,” he said as he passed the glass to the older man.
Rupert nodded his thanks and took a sip, relishing in the sweet burn of the amber liquid. As he enjoyed his drink he tried to formulate
a tact way of asking Wesley why he lived here.
Before he got the chance, Giles once more felt the tingle of magick. He couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded as the flat transformed
before his eyes.
Soon the shabby sofa morphed into an overstuffed couch with a matching chair next to it. There were solid pine bookshelves, overflowing
with books, which lined the walls. The room was warm, clean, and more than fit his impression of Wesley.
Raising his eyebrow, Giles silently questioned the ex-watcher.
“Guess I didn’t mention the glamour?” Wes shrugged trying not to laugh.
“No, you definitely neglected to mention the glamour,” Rupert replied exasperated, annoyed with himself at not sensing or ‘seeing’ them,
when he walked in. Giles knew that the amount of *power* and innate ability to create such glamours without leaving a tell tale
signature, took an immense amount of talent. “Care to explain?”
At the look on Giles’ face, Wesley did break down and laugh. A few minutes later, once again composed, Pryce explained that the flat was
rent controlled, close to where Angel had his business, and more importantly, nobody bothered him here. He did admit that the place had
truly been as horrid as the glamour depicted, but in the last few months, as money became more… bountiful… Wesley had started to fix the
joint up. Truth be told, Wesley had just finished the last of his renovations a week ago.
Rupert nodded his understanding, “Makes perfect sense,” he muttered. The former Watcher had sensed the underlying bitterness in Wesley’s
tone at the mention of Angel and frowned. Of course, he had his own issues with the souled Vampire, not that he was going to rehash them
with Wesley. Unsure how to broach the subject, but reasonably sure that the vampire was connected to the scar on Wesley’s neck, he
decided to just go ahead and ask. He didn’t get a chance as Pryce launched into the tale.
Wesley unconsciously bit his lip as he contemplated how to tell Giles his sordid little epic. Sighing, he drained his glass and began.
He started from when he left Sunnydale, and by the time he concluded with arriving at the auction, he was mentally exhausted and more
than a little apprehensive. He glanced at Giles tensing, as he waited for a reaction.
Rupert watched as the sorcerer composed himself. He could tell Wesley was waiting for him to reject and vilify him. He was frankly
amazed that Pryce had survived the last three years. Oh he was angry… there was no denying that, just not with Wes. His fury was solely
directed at Angel and the others. Granted, Wesley had made some mistakes, but under the circumstances, Giles wasn’t certain he wouldn’t
have done the same.
His heart had fluttered at the dispassionate way the sorcerer described the slashing of his throat and his ‘death’. Giles didn’t
understand why Wesley was still alive, but he thanked the gods he was.
Wesley displayed such courage and strength, even as his world was collapsing, that Rupert couldn’t help but admire the man.
‘What is he thinking?’ Wesley wondered, as he tried not to fidget under the older man’s gaze. Several worst-case scenarios flashed
before his eyes, causing him to unconsciously start to withdraw; as he waited for whatever punishment Giles would meet out. It was an
old defence mechanism that the younger man no longer realized he did.
Giles was so caught up in his thoughts, that it took a moment to realize that Wesley was anxiously waiting for his reaction. When it
finally seeped into his awareness, the younger man was already retreating. Without giving it a second thought, Rupert reached out and
took the younger man’s hand in his. Looking deep into startlingly clear blue eyes, he spoke, “I can’t tell you how much I wish that I’d
have been there for you. I don’t think I’d have managed as well as you have.”
Wesley froze when Rupert took his hand. For a split second he expected the older man to lash out at him. Instead a warmth spread
through him as he listened to Giles’ words. The heat seemed to melt the ball of ice that had engulfed his heart the last few months.
His hand tingled, and he was acutely aware of the man sitting beside him. He was so close to falling apart at the compassion in Giles’
eyes, that he couldn’t respond.
Realizing the fragile state of Wesley’s emotions, Rupert reached out and cupped the back of the younger man’s neck, pulling the now
unresisting man towards him. Resting Wes’ head on his shoulder, he whispered, “I’m so very proud of you.”
Wesley soaked in the comfort, not at all embarrassed to be held in Giles’ arms. He’d always craved human contact, and until this moment
hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the casual touches he’d received from his former friends. Wrapping his arms around Rupert’s back,
Wes revelled in the feelings of safety and affection, knowing that he’d be alone once again when the older man returned to England. That
thought made him shudder and he burrowed even closer.
Giles tightened his grip when he felt Wesley shiver. He couldn’t imagine what was going through the younger man’s head; all he knew was
that he had a need to comfort him. To take away the pain; while at the same time assuage his own loneliness. Holding Wesley in his arms
seemed right, and for the first time since Buffy died he felt content… whole.
Neither man could explain what they were experiencing, but were smart enough to just accept it.
Giles leaned back against the sofa drawing Wesley with him. The day’s events finally catching up to him, he closed his eyes and allowed
the warmth and comfort to lull him to sleep.
Pryce let himself be cradled in Rupert’s arms, instinctively knowing that the older man needed the contact. Truth be told, the sorcerer
needed it just as much. His head resting against the older man’s chest, Wesley lost himself in the steady rhythm of Giles’ heart, and
soon followed the man into sleep.
* * * * *
Giles opened his green eyes and looked around, unsure where he was. It took the warlock a moment to realize he was in a park… the one
that was across from Wesley’s building. He smiled when he saw Wes walk out of his building cradling what looked to be a baby against his
chest.
He tried to move closer to warn the young man to be careful, but couldn’t move. He could only watch helplessly as Pryce walked across
the street towards an injured woman. Again he tried to move… yell… he even tried to cast a spell… all to no avail. He screamed as the
woman slashed Wesley’s throat, the splash of red bright in the moonlight.
* * * * *
Wesley slowly came to consciousness, as his pillow seemed to move and squirm beneath his head. As his awareness returned, he realized he
had been sleeping on Giles, and that it was the older man who had disturbed his rest.
The sorcerer quickly realized that Rupert was in the throes of a nightmare. Giles’ heart beat rapidly, and he seemed to be trying to
reach out to something that only he could see.
The ex-watcher sat up, and concentrated on the words Giles was muttering. He was shocked to hear his name and what seemed to be a warning.
Just as Wesley was about to wake Rupert, the older man screamed his name and bolted upright, practically tossing Wes off the couch.
Grabbing Giles’ outstretched hands; Wes started babbling nonsense in an attempt to calm the larger man, “Shhhh Giles. I’m here, right
here. I’m ok, not hurt, promise.” Releasing one hand, Pryce brought Rupert’s head to his shoulders, unconsciously mimicking the older
man’s actions of earlier in the evening. He gently carded his fingers through the salt and pepper hair in an attempt to sooth the man.
The young sorcerer gasped as Rupert burrowed against him, nuzzling his face into Wesley’s neck.
Giles struggled against the hands holding his, relieved when one was freed. He wrapped his arm around and grasped hold of the body
holding him, tangling his fingers in Wesley’s shirt, with what could only be described as a death grip.
Not completely cognizant of his surroundings, or what he was doing, Rupert nuzzled Wesley’s neck, his tongue darting out to trace the
scar that had previously horrified him.
Wesley gasped when he felt Giles lick his throat. It sent a jolt of electricity straight through him, blood rushing straight to his
groin. He knew he should stop the older man, but when he tried, Rupert only tightened his grip and somehow managed to pin Wesley’s body
under him. Pryce could feel Giles’ arousal and he moaned in response, unconsciously baring his throat to the older man. Knowing they
should stop, and wanting too, were completely different issues. The fine line fading the more Giles touched him. It had been so long
sincesomeone cared; touched him… loved him… that he didn’t want to stop. That it was Rupert doing the touching, made it all the more
special.
Wesley had always found the older man attractive, and had even harboured some hope that under other circumstances, they might have been
friends. That proved to be the case tonight. There was an ease between them that had never been before. It was so much like his
fantasies that Pryce was easily swept away.
Rupert could feel Wesley’s pulse under his scar, and added teeth, tongue and lips to his ministrations. He needed to know that Wesley
was alive. Slowly swimming his way back to consciousness, his need to refute his nightmare… to know that the younger man was living,
quickly transmuted to desire.
The transition from sleep to wakefulness came so gradually, that Rupert at first thought that he was dreaming of kissing Wesley’s neck.
He froze when he realized that it wasn’t an illusion, that he was practically accosting the younger man.
Wesley knew the moment Giles returned to the waking world, the sudden stiffness in his muscles giving him away. Not knowing exactly what
to do, Pryce continued to run his fingers gently through Rupert’s hair. He could only wait to see how Giles was going to react.
Rupert’s quick mind calculated his options… pull away, and stumble through an embarrassing apology, or continue with what he was doing
and hope he wouldn’t be rebuffed.
The question of what to do, came down to the question of what he really wanted. Amazingly enough, the answer was Wesley. In the space
of an evening, the younger man had filled an empty space within him that he now didn’t want to give up. His body also let him know that
it wouldn’t be adverse to the idea of getting closer to Wesley; at least if the erection he was sporting was an indicator.
So the decision to continue made, Giles now had to determine whether Wesley was interested. So far Pryce hadn’t tossed his arse off the
couch… in fact Wesley’s long fingers were still tangled in his hair. As signs go… this was promising.
‘What is he waiting for?’ Wes asked himself. To say he was confused by the signals Giles was giving was an understatement. First he all
but molests him, then he freezes, but doesn’t move away.
Pryce wanted to scream in frustration; instead he took a deep breath and decided to take matters into his own hands. He kept his fingers
in Giles’ hair, and with his free hand lifted Rupert’s chin. Gazing into his lovely green eyes, Wesley leaned forward and kissed him
gently.
Giles moaned as his lips met Wes’; the soft pressure sending tingles down his spine. Tilting his head, he let himself sink into the
sensations.
Wesley wasn’t in a hurry, wanting instead to explore every crevasse of Rupert’s mouth. Running his tongue over the other man’s lips, as
if asking for permission, he hummed his approval when Giles opened for him. He began to lazily stroke and caress his lover’s agile
tongue. It only stood to reason that a man who could speak Faryl would be an exceptional kisser.
Giles was pleased when Wesley didn’t attempt to plunder his mouth. While force has its place during sex, it’s not what the older man
wanted… he wanted to make love to the younger man. Allowing the foreign tongue entrance, Giles’ matched Wesley’s erotic movements with
his own.
As their tongues duelled seductively, Rupert shifted so that his hands could work their way under Wesley’s shirt with the express purpose
of roaming over the planes of his chest. Fingers tingling at first contact, Giles became instantly mesmerized… addicted to the smooth,
hot skin, sparsely covered with wiry hair. He mentally mapped his fingers’ journey, as if by Braille, memorizing every scar that he
encountered. He was looking forward to the addition of sight to his minds carefully crafted picture of his new lover.
Sound was now added to the file he was creating. The little murmur and hums of pleasure that Wesley uttered whenever Giles found a
particularly sensitive spot, fed his desire.
Taste was next… whiskey, wine and Wesley’s own essence was drawn from the sorcerer’s mouth, and Giles contented himself with the
certainty that before the night was through, he would be able to savour everything. He just needed to bide his time and enjoy himself.
Wesley had always revelled in the simple pleasure that was a good kiss. Until now, he’d never had a partner that seemed to like it as
much as he did. Then there was the complex Cordelia had given him whilst still in Sunnydale. A small analytical part of his brain
wondered if it would have been different had it been Giles he kissed the night of the prom?
He snapped back to the present as he felt Rupert’s fingers feather over his chest. Realizing he was lagging behind, Wesley wrapped his
arms around Giles, and pulled at the man’s t-shirt. Again it seemed that an electrical current was flowing through him that seemed to
come from his lover.
His fingers ghosted over passion-heated skin, revelling in the feel as they started a gentle massage over Giles’ spine. Wesley chuckled
when Giles arched like a cat, more than pleased to have such a responsive lover.
He hissed when his straining erection brushed against Rupert’s, the fire burning in his belly flaring into a hungry blaze. Needing more,
Wesley tugged at Giles’ shirt, in an attempt to expose more flesh to his needy fingers.
Rupert felt Wesley’s eagerness against his own shaft, and pushed away. Leaning back, he smiled at the frustrated sounds that slipped
from kiss-swollen lips. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head, then assisted his lover’s attempts at removing his own.
The sight of a half naked Wesley, blue eyes burning with desire, and lust, made his cock twitch. “Gorgeous,” he whispered as he reached
down with one hand to tackle the fastenings on Wesley’s trousers, while the other tangled in the hair at the nape of his lover’s neck to
draw him once again into a seductive kiss.
For a split second, Wesley thought that Giles had changed his mind. Then he looked into his stunning green eyes… and why hadn’t he
noticed them before… and was reassured. Watching Rupert remove his shirt, he couldn’t contain the leer as his lover’s torso was revealed.
Wes allowed himself to be drawn into another earth shattering kiss, while a small part of his brain acknowledged Rupert’s attempts at
undoing his trousers. He gasped for air, when Giles released his lips, and moved once again to his neck.
A moan slipped out as Rupert’s mouth sucked on his sensitive skin. Wesley instinctively bucked against Giles wanting more. He growled
low in his chest when the position they were in frustrated him; and tried to move his leg so that his lover would be in closer contact
with him, but almost fell off the couch.
As Giles continued to unfasten Wesley’s pants and suckle at the scar on his neck, he couldn’t contain a chuckle at the younger man’s
frustration.
Just as Giles was about to slip his hand into Pryce’s pants, it was Wesley’s turn to push his lover away. Untangling himself, Wes
levered himself to his feet. Looking into Rupert’s panicked eyes, the sorcerer held out his hand, “We’ll be more comfortable in my room,”
he whispered.
It took a moment for Wesley’s words to penetrate his panicked mind. Realizing what the man was offering, that he wasn’t about to be
rejected, Rupert stood and laced his fingers with his lovers. He pulled them together so that he could steal a quick kiss, then allowed
Wesley to lead the way.
Once in the bedroom, the two men stood before the other, and slowly began to strip off the rest of their clothing.
Wesley’s eyes gleamed at the sight before him. Mouth watering in anticipation, Rupert was even more than he’d imagined. Broad shoulders,
bronzed and strong, tapered into narrow hips and long legs that he couldn’t wait to have wrapped around his hips. He was tempted to ask
Giles to turn around so that he could get a look at the man’s arse, but fought it. Moving his eyes up from Rupert’s legs, he zeroed in
on his lover’s groin. Wesley didn’t’ realize that he was licking his lips as he took in the proud shaft jutting out, straight and thick.
“Perfect,” he whispered, unconsciously taking a step forward.
For his own part, Giles was finally able to finish his visual catalogue of Wesley. His heart beating double time, he was pleased to see
the lean muscles that made up the man’s chest; pale skin gleaming in the soft light of the bedside table. He leered at the sight of
Wesley’s cock, erect and hard, pointing northward, a pearl of pre cum resting atop the head peaking out from his foreskin. Tearing his
eyes from the enticing view, Giles looked into Wesley’s blue orbs, and smiled as he mentally echoed the younger man’s statement. Wesley
was indeed perfect and would soon be his.
As if by mutual accord, both men took the steps necessary to bring them into each other’s arms.
Wesley shivered, as his heated skin moulded against Giles’. The simple act of brushing up against his lover caused his hips to buck in
reaction.
Rupert was equally affected and his knees almost buckled. He wrapped his arms around Wes, his hand unerringly finding and kneading the
most perfect arse. Holding Wesley close, Giles marvelled at how well they fit together.
Wesley wanted more of Giles. His fertile imagination flashing pictures of them together, heightening his nerve endings as the images of
Rupert taking him drowned out the others. Wesley realized that he needed this… needed Rupert to possess him, fill him, make him his.
All thoughts flew out the window as Rupert ground his hips against him, “Giles, I… oh gods please…” he trailed off as he buried his face
in Giles’ neck.
“What do you want Wes? Do you want to take me? Bury yourself deep within me? Or do you want me to take you? Take my hard shaft and slowly
bury myself in your hot body?” Giles whispered, punctuating each question with a lazy thrust.
Wesley couldn’t articulate what he wanted from Giles… in desperation the sorcerer opened the connection between the two men and showed
him.
Giles gasped at the visions that seeped into his brain. Thankfully Wes had a gentle touch, and there was no pain, instead Rupert almost
came from the erotic images flashing, like an old fashioned moving picture. Countless images of Wesley and himself twined together
making love… Giles in control… taking and giving pleasure. Over and over again Giles fucked Wesley… “Stop love. Too close. Shhh I know…
I want it too,” he managed to whisper, moving them both the scant distance to the bed. Not separating for even a second, Rupert managed
to get them both lying down.
Thankful that Giles knew what he wanted… needed… Wesley stopped the picture show. He was not able to dissolve the connection, and both
men now knew what the other was feeling. The sheer magnitude of emotions, sensations and heightened excitement lifted them to another
level.
Rupert didn’t question the bond, and let himself be drawn in. He was pleased to note that he didn’t have to ask where supplies were, the
knowledge just seemed to be there, and he leaned over and opened the bedside drawer. Pulling out condoms and some lube, the older man
brought his attention back to his lover.
Once again, Wesley felt a wave of relief that he didn’t have to articulate what he wanted to Giles. Using the connection between them in
order to please his lover, Wes ran his fingers over Rupert, cataloguing hot spots that flared white hot in the older man’s mind.
Giles was amazed at how tactilely sensitive Wesley was. He didn’t know if it was as a result of the changes he’d been through, or if the
younger man had always been this way, but Rupert revelled in the moans, gasps and little growls that tumbled from his lover’s lips.
His hands shook as he reached for Wesley’s shaft. He lightly stroked the silky skin, making sure to pull down the foreskin, thus
exposing the head so that he could swipe his thumb over it.
Wesley almost howled when Rupert finally took him in hand. Strong fingers played over him, sending him soaring. Spreading his legs in
hopes that his lover would take the hint, Wesley kept one hand on Giles’s shoulder, while the other once again ran through his silky hair.
Giles hummed his approval and reached for the lube, while continuing to stroke Wesley’s cock. Squeezing a dollop onto his fingers, he
brought them to his lover’s entrance. He wet his lips, leaned over Wes’ shaft, and licked a drop of pre cum at the same time as he
brought his fingers to circle the rosy pucker.
Giles was determined to bring Wesley to ecstasy slowly, so he didn’t rush himself. He slid his slick fingers up from Pryce’s hole
pressing against his perineum, and then moved up to his balls; all the while continuing to lick and suck the end of Wesley’s shaft.
Rupert once again marvelled at how completely responsive to his touch, Wesley was. How the man gave himself to him with no reservations.
The younger man didn’t hold anything back. Giles couldn’t remember the last partner who allowed him to do as he wished… who knew he
wouldn’t hurt him.
Wesley was hard pressed not to thrust into the wet cavern that was Giles’ mouth. He spread his legs wider apart as the talented fingers
played with his body. Wesley didn’t realize he was uttering words of encouragement, practically begging for Giles to take him. That he
would ‘surrender all that he was, his body mind and soul to his lover if only he would just get on with it!’
Feeling the truth of Wesley’s words through the bond, Giles fought for control, when all he wanted to do was bury his cock deep within
the man under him. Instead he totally engulfed Wesley’s prick, while pressing his slick index finger into him.
Wesley arched and cried out in pleasure as he was swallowed and his entrance breached. He clenched around Rupert’s finger while at the
same time pushed against it, forcing the digit in deeper.
Giles watched Wesley closely for any indication that he was hurting his lover, as he continued to prepare him. His own shaft twitching
each time Wesley moaned. It took every bit of his self-control to prevent himself from slamming his cock into Wesley. By the time Giles
added the third finger, he was breathing as hard as his lover.
Wesley’s muscles shook in anticipation, every nerve sensitive to Rupert’s touch. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Giles as the elder man
lovingly prepared him. “Rupert… please, I’m ready… I need you,” he gasped, no longer willing, or able, to wait.
Giles looked into Wesley’s azure pools practically glowing with trust, lust and impatience. A wicked chuckle slipped from his lips as he
continued to scissor his fingers, making sure to rub against Wesley’s prostate at every opportunity. He could feel the muscles loosing
and finally deemed him ready. He slipped his fingers out and quickly tearing open the condom wrapper slid the sheath on, all the while
clenching his jaw to gain some precious control. Never taking his eyes off Wesley, Giles then reached for his lover hand.
Unable to question Giles, Pryce loosened his death grip on the headboard and placed his hand in his lovers’. Eyes widening when Rupert
guided it to the man’s painfully erect shaft. Licking his lips, he echoed Giles moan as he wrapped his long fingers around the other
man’s cock.
Giles bit his lip to prevent himself from coming at the feel of Wesley’s callused fingers gently squeezing his erection. Taking a deep,
semi-calming breath, he reached for the lube and squeezed another dollop, this time on the tip of his own dick. “Slick me up love,”
Rupert whispered as he leaned over Wesley and consumed his mouth.
Eyes fluttering closed, Wesley slowly ran his fingers over Rupert’s shaft, gathering the lube. He started pumping the hard length. The
younger man groaned at the hardness in his hand, and couldn’t prevent his legs spreading wider as he picked up Giles’ thoughts of what he
was going to do to him.
Rupert prevented himself from thrusting into his lover’s hand. If he allowed this to continue, he would come before he could bury
himself into Wesley’s delicious body. Grasping the sorcerer’s wrist, he removed the long fingers from his cock, then watching Wesley
closely, he brought his shaft to his lover’s entrance.
Wesley whimpered when Giles simultaneously broke off their kiss, and removed his fingers from his lover’s shaft. Before he could beg for
his lover to ‘get on with it’, he gasped as the tip of Giles’ cock pushed its way into him. He couldn’t believe how good it felt, and
ran his hands down his lover’s back, to grasp his arse hoping to encourage the older man to give him more.
Giles was entranced by the play of emotion on Wesley’s face as he slowly sank into him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt
anything as perfect as the man under him. When he was fully seated within Wes he stilled a moment in order to catch his breath.
Wesley released Giles arse in order to wrap his legs around his waist. It had been a long time since he’d made love to a man, but his
body remembered, allowing Giles entrance. He opened himself completely to his lover and let Rupert feel how good he felt. He clenched
around the hard shaft, his own cock twitching at the sensation. Tugging onto the back of Giles’s neck, he brought his face to his and
rained kisses upon lips, jaw and neck, nipping the older man’s ear, he whispered, “Move love, I need you… make me yours.” Then he thrust
his hips and clenched as hard as he could around Rupert’s shaft.
Giles could no more ignore the passion filled raspy voice of this lover than he could forego breathing. Leaning back on his knees, he
grasped Wesley’s hips and began to slowly thrust. Losing himself in the tight heat, he started to pick up the pace…
Wesley matched Rupert thrust for thrust, as he incoherently continued to murmur encouragement. He was bombarded by not only the
sensations coursing through his body, but also everything Giles felt, due to the link that had been forged between them. The sorcerer
was completely overwhelmed by the duel stimulation, that the moment Giles reached out and grasped his cock, his back arched and he
screamed as his orgasm blasted over his nerve endings like a nuclear explosion.
Giles eyes widened as Wesley’s orgasm slammed into his mind. Experiencing his lover’s release broke what little control Rupert had, and
his thrusts became erratic until his own tore through him.
As Rupert felt his lover’s orgasm, Wesley experienced Giles’. It overloaded his synapses and he passed out as sparks flashed over his
skin and reached out to caress Rupert’s.
Collapsing on top of Wes, Giles fought to stay conscious as he panted for air. He moved his head in order to kiss his lover and smiled
when he realized that Wesley was out cold. Expanding the last of his energy, the older man cast his senses over his Pryce’s body and
mind, chuckling when they told him he was fine, just in a state of erotic sensory overload. He had enough strength to slip his shaft out
of Wes and remove the condom, tossing it in the wastebasket beside the bed. The last thought Rupert had as he succumbed to sleep was that
he hadn’tlost his touch…
* * * * *
Some time later, Wesley slowly woke. For a moment he had no recollection of anything and was confused that he couldn’t move. Then the
events of the evening slammed home and his arms tightened around his lover. He moved his head so that he could check on Giles and
grinned at the smug smile that graced Giles’ features. He placed a soft kiss on Rupert’s temple and groaned when his muscles protested.
The last time his body felt this sore was when he tangled with a Metgar demon. ‘Of course there was no comparison between the two
activities,’ Wesley chided himself. Lightly stroking his hand up and down Giles’ back, Pryce let out a contented sigh. He knew he
should be worried about what happened tonight, but wasn’t. There was a connection between them that he couldn’t explain, and truthfully
didn’t want to. Wesley didn’t know what was going to happen when Rupert woke, thus he wanted to soak up a much peace and affection as he
could… before he inevitably had to say goodbye to the older man.
Rupert tightened his hold around the warm body under him. His shaft twitched at the feel of Wesley’s silky skin rubbing against it. He
couldn’t help the slow thrust of his hips as he lifted his head to kiss his lover, “This is a lovely way to wake up,” he whispered as he
captured the younger man’s lips and continued to move against him.
Wesley echoed Rupert’s movements, arching into the sensations, “I couldn’t agree more,” he managed to moan against his lover’s lips.
Removing one arm from around Giles, he reached for another condom. He managed to roll it on his shaft while still kissing the Englishman.
Groping for the lube he squeezed out a dollop onto his fingers and brought them to Giles’ entrance. He broke way from Rupert’s mouth and
looked at him in askance, as he gently circled the rosy pucker.
Giles groaned at the sensation and shivered. Swallowing he leaned down and nipping Wesley’s bottom lip, pushed against the sorcerer’s
finger. “Yes,” he whispered and slid his tongue into Pryce’s mouth.
Slowly Wesley prepared Giles. This time there was none of the frantic urgency that characterized their first coupling. Wes took the
time to loosen Rupert’s body, brushing over his prostate every now and then. Both men enjoyed the slow build…
Finally, the sorcerer deemed Giles ready, and he removed his fingers so that he could replace them with his shaft. As he became fully
sheathed within Rupert, his ‘power’ slipped out to wrap around them, allowing them to experience what the other felt.
Giles slowly rode Wesley’s shaft, loving the sensation of being filled. When he felt the seductive tendrils of the sorcerer’s power
enter him, he moaned as he experienced what it felt like from Wes’ point of view.
Their gazes locked as their orgasms spilled from them, their linked minds flooding with the duel sensations.
Wesley gently slipped out of Rupert and wrapped his arms around his lover. He was completely sated and was content to hold Giles, his
hands gently tracing soothing circles on his strong back.
For his part, Giles nuzzled into the crook of Wesley’s neck. He was exhausted, replete, and extremely comfortable, “That was…” he
trailed off unable to describe the experience.
“It most certainly was,” Wesley agreed as he moved his head to place a kiss on Giles’ temple, “Are you all right?”
“More than, you were incredible,” Giles stated scattering kisses on the sorcerer’s scarred neck.
Neither man felt the need to say anything further, both content to hold and be held.
A few minutes later Wesley sighed. As much as he wanted to forget reality and never leave the bed, he knew that he should talk to Giles.
Before he could open his mouth Rupert spoke.
“Is it wrong to wish for a blizzard to strike L.A.?” Giles mused, as he tightened his hold on Wesley. The older man was loath to leave
his lover, but duty inevitably fettered his conscience.
Wesley chuckled as he glanced at the clear dawn sky, “I don’t think even I could pull that one off.” Kissing Giles forehead, he moved so
that he could look in his lover’s green eyes, “How long can you stay?”
Rupert frowned, “The Council was most adamant about me returning post hast. If I’m not back by tomorrow, they’ll send the hounds,” he
admitted ruefully.
“Damn,” Wesley muttered as he allowed the older man to roll off him. Sitting up he rubbed his face with his hands, “We should probably
get ready then.”
Rupert wanted to reach out and not let Wesley leave, but didn’t. Instead he slipped out of the bed and began to gather his clothing.
Sighing he turned to Wes who still sat on the edge of the bed, “Do you mind if I took a shower?”
“Of course not, head in and I’ll get you some clean towels,” Pryce smiled sadly.
Giles took a step towards Wesley and gently kissed him, hopefully conveying his regret, “Thank you,” he murmured then took himself off to
the bathroom.
Wesley waited until Giles was gone before removing the spent condom and half heartedly cleaning himself off. He then slipped on his
slacks, and went to retrieve some towels. Standing outside the bathroom, he waited until he heard the sound of Rupert getting into the
shower. Wesley then slipped inside and placed them on the toilet tank. The sorcerer was momentarily mesmerized by the steamy image of a
naked, soapy Giles. He longed to join the man, but resisted. It would only make it harder for him to let Rupert leave…
Giles was well aware that Wesley was watching him. The ex-watcher could feel the heat and longing in the young sorcerer’s gaze and
sighed when Pryce turned away and left him alone.
Rupert let the hot water sluice over him, while his agile mind contemplated the past 24 hours. Never one to wear rose coloured glasses,
he analyzed his life in England. He didn’t like what he saw. Work was satisfactory, but the rest… the actual living… was lacking. He
realized what he was missing… someone to love. The moment that thought crossed his mind the picture of Wesley welcoming him home popped
up.
Did that mean he was in love with Wesley? He didn’t think so… not yet… but the potential was there…
Rupert found that he liked the man, and definitely respect his mind. Giles was also intrigued by his newfound *power*, and above all
else he couldn’t deny his attraction… just thinking about him stirred his body.
He also felt rather bereft at the thought of leaving the man behind.
Giles felt a sense of calm flood his body, mind, and soul as he came to a decision. Laughing at the simple solution, he turned off the
water and quickly dried himself off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Rupert went in search of Wesley.
He found the sorcerer standing before the window watching the sunrise. Giles caught his breath at the loneliness that flowed off Wesley
in waves. Sadly smiling at the sight, Rupert stood behind Wesley and wrapped his arms around him.
Wes stiffened as Giles’ arms tightened around him. He tried to deny the emotions that flooded him… tried to be strong, but he couldn’t.
His muscles weakened, and he melted into the embrace.
Pryce was unable to deny the simple fact that he was going to miss Rupert; he hated the thought of living alone once again. It was a
weakness he thought he long buried after Angel and everyone turned away from him.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke, “The booking agent’s number is on the table.”
Rupert grinned and nuzzled Wesley’s neck, “Should I ask for first class or coach?” he asked and bit his lip trying not to laugh at the
confused look in the other man’s eyes, that gazed at him in the window’s reflection.
Raising an eyebrow, Pryce turned to look at Giles, “The Council would pay for a first class ticket?” he asked astonished.
“Don’t give a toss what the Council would do. What do you prefer?” Giles asked with a wicked look in his green eyes. He kissed Wesley
and then went to pick up the phone.
“When I can afford it, I prefer first class. My legs and all,” Wesley stated looking at the man like he’d lost his mind.
As Giles waited for someone to answer, he gave Pryce a leering once over, barely able to suppress a wolf whistle at the thought of those
long legs thrown over his shoulders. It seemed that even ‘Ripper’ appreciated the view.
Making sure to keep eye contact with Wesley, Giles booked the return flight home, “Yes, my name is Rupert Giles and I’d like to trade in
my open, return flight, to London’s Heathrow, for two one way tickets first class.” He smiled gently at Wes’ astonished expression,
while listening to the attendant. “Yes that’s right… two one way tickets. Absolutely, charge them to WC Inc. Do you need my
authorization? No? Fine, I understand… right, they’ll be waiting at the counter for pick up. The names? Rupert Giles and… can you hold
on a moment?” Holding the phone to his chest he tilted his head and, looking into Wesley’s blue eyes, held out his hand, “Wes?”
Wesley was stunned. He took an unconscious step forward and blinked. Two tickets? Giles wanted two one way tickets to London. Wanted
him to accompany him. ‘Isn’t this what he wanted?’ a small voice asked from deep within his heart. Yes it was. While he didn’t want
Giles to leave on the one hand; he hadn’t allowed himself to consciously voice his wish to join Rupert. Relieved beyond anything at not
having to suppress his desires Wesley made the only decision he could.
Raising his head, Wesley looked into Giles’ eyes. Blue catching green, a slow smile formed over Pryce’s lips. He took another step
forward and grasped Rupert’s hand nodding…
Rupert grinned, “The name on the second ticket is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.”
Neither man knew what the future held, but were content with the knowledge that for now they weren’t alone. It was a good start.
* * *