Summary Wesley is surprised to find Giles on his doorstep looking for help. But Lilah’s not afraid to help herself . . .
Rating NC17
Disclaimer No threesome obsessions were remotely threatened in the writing of this story.
Well, okay, Joyce was a *little* threatened . . .Any injured copyrights were unintentional
Notes Written for Sallyanne in the fourth Junk Drawer challenge. Bitch that I am,
I only used the elements of her request that were convenient. She asked for
Giles/Wesley/Lilah (romantic) (check), use of La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats (not),
the verb moan (well, hell yeah, who do you think wrote it?), the noun: decanter (not),
Set sometime post-Tomorrow and pre-Apocalypse, Nowish (check, but purely accidentally),
with no killing of the Lilah. I repeat, no killing of the Lilah. (check) No dumping of the Lilah by Wesley. (check)
Angst is cool (and pretty much a given when we're talking any permutation of Wes/Lilah),
but nothing that would make my shipper heart weep. (right there with you, sister!).
As always, I couldn’t have done it without Mydeira, who kept me on track and
kept my pronouns straight. Although we’re still having issues on whether the bands of a thong is
a singular or plural term . . .
The knock on Wesley’s door was polite but insistent. Wes cinched his robe tighter, running his hands through his hair to try to return some sort of order as he went to answer it.
Standing on the other side was about the last person he would have ever expected.
Saying the absolute last thing he ever thought he’d hear from that particular source.
“I need your help,” Rupert Giles said bluntly.
It took a moment for the universe to realign. “Please, come in,” was all he could say.
Giles did, moving over to the sofa to put down a heavy-looking satchel before turning back to Wes. Only then did he seem to notice Wes’s state of dress. “I’m sorry, were you asleep?”
Wes didn’t laugh. “No. Don’t worry about it. What can I do for you?”
“It’s started.” He turned and opened the satchel, pulling out a handful of files and a slim volume. “The Harrowing.”
“Now?” That got Wesley’s undivided attention. “The girls?”
“Have started dying,” Giles confirmed. “I don’t know where or how. The Council won’t tell me anything. Retired Watchers don’t rate such information.”
“And those expelled in disgrace rate even less. I’m not sure how I can help you.”
Giles held up the files before dropping them onto the coffee table. “Translation. These are the original prophecies regarding it. They’re in twelve different languages, half of them dead African ones. I could use your assistance deciphering them if we are to stop this.”
Wes picked up the book and paged through it. “But the only versions of this are held in the Council archives. Where did you get them?”
“From the Council archives.” His expression remained bland. “God helps those who help themselves.”
“I see.” Wes set the volume down. “Of course I’ll help. Just let me change . . .”
At that moment Lilah strolled in from the bedroom.
Strolled wasn’t an apt description. Swayed was more like it. She had done nothing to repair the damage their recent endeavors had caused to her normally polished appearance, and she was dressed only in his shirt, which barely disguised whether or not she was wearing panties. A question he knew the answer to all too well, considering the fact that he had destroyed her only pair over an hour ago. She was playing with fire, as she always did, and he responded as he always did, his cock rising just from her presence. But on the surface she played it innocent, pausing to give him a quick peck on the cheek before smiling mildly at Giles. “The office called. I have to go in. Mind if I shower first?”
Uncertain of the game she was playing, he replied mildly, “Of course not. It’s all yours.”
With an uncharacteristically soft smile, she kissed him again before continuing on her way to the bathroom.
Wesley registered the well-concealed surprise on Giles’ face. “Your girlfriend seems . . . nice.”
This time Wes did laugh out loud. “Lilah is many things, but I doubt anyone would make the mistake of calling her nice. I’ll be right back.”
Once in the bedroom, he quickly shed his robe and began dressing. The part of him Lilah had been cultivating these last few months hoped she would get back in time for one last round. The thought of bending her damp body over the end of his bed and fucking her from behind with the older Watcher in the next room, threatening to hear every sound Wes could force out of her was absolutely intoxicating. But he was dressed in less than five minutes and she hadn’t returned, so he gathered up his control and returned to the other room.
Giles was seated on the sofa, sorting through the files he had brought. “Haven’t there been dozens of translations of these prophecies over the last thousand years?” Wes asked, sitting in the chair opposite him and sliding his glasses onto his nose.
“Yes, but most of them have worked from the Latin amalgamation, so subsequent interpretations have just continued earlier errors. And there hasn’t been a modern translation. We can use the 1739 Herriot version to pinpoint passages we need to focus on. Since we now know when it is happening, I’m hoping we can pinpoint more specifics.”
The two settled into work, narrowing down the larger texts to more accessible pieces. It had been a long time since he’d worked with someone his academic equal, and it felt good as they quickly settled into a focused rapport.
So intent were they that he forgot completely about the woman in the other room. “Ahem,” Lilah’s voice came from the doorway, quiet but impossible to ignore. Both men looked up as one.
She looked impeccable, as always. Her dark hair was now smooth, every strand in place as it curled around her throat. Her black skirt cut just above the knee, revealing the long shape of her legs without appearing immodest. The black silk of her blouse was relieved by the heather gray of her blazer which warmed the tone of her skin. Her makeup was simple and clean, save for the ruby curves of her mouth.
Wes felt an overwhelming urge to ruin her perfection.
She just smiled. “Now that I’m decent, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Wesley hadn’t actually intended to, but now she had forced him into it. “Lilah, this is Rupert Giles,” he performed the introductions brusquely. “Giles, Lilah Morgan.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Giles said sincerely, offering his hand.
Lilah got that thoughtful glitter in her eye that Wes had come to learn not to trust. “Well, I must say this is an honor,” she replied. “I hadn’t expected to end the day in the presence of two such luminaries.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Well, not many people have had the opportunity to stand with the former Watchers of the only two concurrent Slayers in history. I’m practically giddy!”
“Lilah,” Wes said warningly.
Giles’ eyes narrowed. “You seem to be very well informed.”
“Strictly professionally, I assure you.” She didn’t release his hand. “Don’t blame Wesley, he didn’t say a word. It’s my business to know everything that touches Angel, and you and yours touch him deeply. And he you, I’ve heard. How’s your hand?”
Wes saw the hand holding hers clench slightly. “It still aches in cold weather. Thank you for asking.”
She smiled again, that smug cat-in-the-cream look she’d get whenever she’d put one over on him. “Good to hear. I understand those kind of injuries can take a long time to heal.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, just exactly what line of work are you in, Miss Morgan?”
“If you called her a corporate whore, you wouldn’t be far wrong,” Wesley snapped.
He was surprised to catch a flash of hurt in her eyes, but she covered it with her usual diamond hardness. “So what would that make you, tiger?” She looked him up and down quickly, plainly distasteful. “I’m an attorney, Mr. Giles,” she said, returning her attention to him, “with a very specialized clientele. Perhaps you’ve heard of my firm. Wolfram and Hart?”
Only Wesley could have recognized the tic along Giles’ jaw as reaction. “I have.”
“Then you know their reputation. So I’d better get into the office before they make an example of one of my loved ones.” She picked up her jacket and purse off the chair before shooting a challenging glare at Wesley. “Which I guess means that you’re safe. I’ll see you later.”
As the door shut behind her, Giles turned to him. “What in the hell have you gotten yourself into, Wesley?”
Wes didn’t take his eyes off the door. “Did you come here to talk about my private life or for help? Because at the moment, the two are mutually exclusive.”
Giles looked disappointed and a bit sad as he sat back down on the sofa. “You’ve changed,” he said softly, turning back to the parchment fragments. “You aren’t the same man you were.”
Surprised, Wesley turned his head to meet the other man’s eyes. “No, I’m not. None of us are. I would have thought you of all people would know that.”
Giles just met his eyes.
“Come on.” Wes sat back down, putting his glasses back on. “Let’s get back to work.”
They worked for several hours before fatigue finally caught up with both of them. Giles crashed on the couch in the most literal sense of the word, not even bothering to change out of his street clothes as eight hours of jet lag caught up with him. Wesley draped a blanket over him and retired to his own bed.
Sleep was notoriously short lived. The phone rang at five thirty, startling Wesley fully awake in an instant. “Wyndham-Pryce,” he mumbled into the phone.
“Sorry to wake you, sir,” Brownstreet’s voice came to him through the line. “But we need your help on the Ashkevron case.”
In the few months they’d worked together, Wesley had come to learn that Brownstreet hated to admit weakness. If he said there was a problem, there probably was. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
He dragged himself out of bed, stopping in the kitchen to start the coffeemaker before continuing on to the bathroom. A shower and changed of clothes did much to revive him, coffee and a bit of toast finishing the job. He put his mug in the sink and went to leave.
Giles was watching him, unmoved from the position Wesley had left him in the night before, his open eyes clouded as he tracked Wes’s movements. “Need help?” he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.
“I doubt it. Business as usual, I’m sure. Go back to sleep. There’s coffee on the warmer, and help yourself to whatever else you need. I shouldn’t be back too late.”
Giles just nodded and closed his eyes, his breathing slow and even again by the time Wes had put on his jacket and let himself quietly out of the apartment.
The day ended up being longer than he’d anticipated, relentless legwork ending with a bone crushing, dirty struggle that left two of his men injured and the demon predator hacked into five pieces. He had showered at the office before heading home, not wanting to bring the offal of that creature into his apartment. The thought of the research that waited for him there made him dread going back.
The scene before him when he opened his apartment door made him forget all about work of any kind.
Giles sat on the sofa where he had apparently been working on his texts. The papers were discarded over the coffee table now. Instead he was focused entirely on Lilah. Wesley couldn’t blame him, considering her current position. She was straddling his lap, the soft camel of her skirt rutched up to reveal the lacy tops of her stockings and the soft curve of her ass. Giles gripped her forearms, restraining her, but his mouth and jaw were already stained with her lipstick. His eyes widened in horror when he saw Wesley standing in the doorway. “This isn’t what it looks like,” he insisted, panic-stricken.
Lilah just turned her head to look at Wes knowingly.
“Yes, it is,” Wesley said calmly, removing his jacket to throw it on a nearby chair. “This is exactly what it looks like. But it’s not what you think it is.” He moved closer to stop an arm’s length away from them, reaching out to toy with a lock of Lilah’s hair almost gently. “Lilah’s trying to get revenge for my description of her last night by attempting to make me jealous. Unfortunately, she’s only proving me right.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, turning her attention back to Giles. “I just wanted to see if one washed up Watcher was as good as the next.”
“Did you bother to ask if he was willing?”
“But it’s so much easier to ask forgiveness than permission.” Her tone was playful and implicating all at once.
“Funny, I’ve never found it so.” He moved around behind her, pressing up against her back. “The problem is that Rupert here is a gentleman.” Wes reached around Lilah to begin unbuttoning her blouse, revealing her breasts bit by bit to Giles’ confused gaze. “He thinks he’s being used as a wedge in some meaningful relationship between the two of us. But we know better, don’t we?” The last he breathed into her ear, earning a satisfying tremor from her. Every time he was with her, he thought he’d found the lowest depth he would sink to. Until the next time, the next depravity to relish. This time seemed to be no exception. He was giving her to this man who had once been his mentor, whose respect he had once sought out. And he was completely aroused by the thought of it. He met Giles’ eyes. “If you want her, take her,” he said huskily, slipping her blouse off her shoulders to slide down her captive arms. “You won’t be the first.”
“Oh, he wants me,” she purred in amusement, rubbing the juncture of her legs against him, the side benefit for Wes being the friction of the soft curve of her ass against his own erection. Both men groaned in pleasure. “The only question is whether or not he’s man enough to take what he wants.”
Hesitating a moment before seeming to make up his mind, Giles slid his hands up her bare arms to tangle into her hair, locking his fingers to jerk her head back, caressing his tongue up along the column of her throat, making her gasp. “You’d be surprised what I can do.”
Wesley stayed pressed close against his lover as she and Giles began devouring each other’s mouths hungrily. Lilah never forgot his presence, swirling her hips as much against him as Giles. He relished the sensation, sliding his hands down her bare back to the catches of her delicate bra. Carefully he popped one hook after another, reveling in the eroticism of undressing her for another man’s pleasure. She whimpered, and Wes looked up to see Giles had lowered his head to begin suckling at her now-bare breasts. Lilah’s hands worked feverishly, undoing the buttons of Giles’ shirt before pushing it back off his chest to bare muscles still toned but softened with age, covered in silver gray curls. “Take yours off, too,” she breathed, not turning to Wesley as she coasted her hands up over Giles’ chest while he continued devouring her breasts.
Wesley complied, inspired by her creativity and wantonness, resting his hips against the small of her back as he pulled his sweater over his head before making short work of his oxford. When his chest, too, was bare, he leaned close, closing his eyes at the warm indulgence of her skin against his. “Is that better?”
In answer, she twisted her neck around to kiss him, moaning soft pleasure into his mouth from Giles’ attention. Wes let his fingers catch in the twill of her skirt, clawing it slowly up to expose her more and more. She had obviously come expecting something, for she had worn garterless stockings and a fine silk thong that left the tautly muscled globes of her behind exposed for his enjoyment.
She had an absolutely beautiful ass.
She hitched back, her hand sliding down Giles’ front, obviously headed for his fly. Giles caught her wrist and stopped her. “As pleasant as this is, we might be more comfortable moving this to the bedroom.”
“Mmm, and defile Wesley’s sanctimonious bed?” she chuckled lushly. “Sounds delicious.”
With graceful strength, Giles rose to his feet, lifting Lilah with him easily. She squealed in delight and surprise, twisting her legs around his waist as he turned and strode purposefully towards the bedroom. Curious and aroused, Wesley followed.
He stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame as the two of them stopped at the foot of the bed. Lilah released her legs from around Giles body to slide intimately down to stand before him. He responded by capturing her mouth again as his hands freely wandered her body. Wes just watched as they slowly finished undressing each other, her skirt and Giles’ trousers falling to the floor, his briefs following quickly after. Wes noted clinically that Giles was nicely endowed. Not huge by any stretch of the imagination, but thick and full, bobbing eagerly as he lifted Lilah up to deposit her on the bed.
Her eyes were wide, her teeth biting into her lower lip as Giles caught the fine bands of her panties and slowly drew them down her legs to cast them aside. She lifted one leg to rest her foot on his chest, making it easier for him to remove her stockings. Instead he coasted his hand up along the inside of her thigh, snapping the elastic top sharply to make her gasp. “Oh, yes, very nice.” Taking her knee in one hand, he lowered her leg back down to the mattress, spread wide to display her drenched quim to his hungry gaze. Giles mounted the bed to position himself between her outstretched legs, and Wes watched as without a word the other man slowly pressed his cock into Lilah’s welcoming channel.
She cried out, her arms reaching up to catch the spindles of the bed and use the gained leverage to move against him as he withdrew and returned. Opening her eyes, she lifted her head to watch his length appear and disappear within her until finally he caught her mouth again and she returned the kiss with equal passion. Supporting his weight on one hand, he let the other move to her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple as his hips moved faster against her.
Wes was interested to note that Giles wasn’t being particularly gentle with her, looking to her pleasure almost as a side effect of finding his own. Had he given it any thought, Wesley would have figured Rupert Giles for a more considerate, thoughtful lover, as attentive to detail in this as in every other aspect of his life. There was no way of knowing if this was typical behavior or if he was just responding to the situation, but either way it gave Wesley new insight into the man.
Lilah gasped and moaned as Giles’ pace increased until her head bumped into the headboard with each thrust. “Come on,” Wes heard him murmur, “come on, you beautiful bitch. Come for me.”
The words obviously affected her. “Oh, god!” she whimpered, releasing her grip on the headboard to clutch at his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh as she bucked against him. Still supported on his elbows, he twisted his fingers in her hair, pulling hard to arch her neck, her body forced to follow along. He buried his face in the curve of her throat, muffling his own grunts of pleasure as he pounded into her in increasing desperation. Lilah’s eyes were wild as she alternated between desperate panting and high, broken keening, the interval getting shorter and shorter until with a glass shattering scream she came, her body rigidly arched against him. He never slowed his movements, burying himself in her over and over until he erupted as well, pumping short, jerky strokes into her with a muffled oath.
They lay there, unable to move for long moments afterwards, no affection or comfort, just wrung out. Finally, Giles shifted off Lilah to collapse on the bed next to her, eyes closed, body soft.
Wes’s body was anything but soft, and he had waited long enough to do something about it. He quickly toed off his shoes and socks, unbuttoning his slacks as he approached the bed.
Lilah must have heard the clink of his belt buckle, for she turned her head to look at him. “No,” she said firmly when she saw him undressing.
“Yes,” he insisted with equal intensity, dropping his trousers to the floor. [guh]
She held him at bay as he mounted her. “What makes you think I’d want you after that?”
He caught her wrist, pulling her hand away from his chest, taking the other for good measure and pinning them both over her head. “You were the one who wanted to compare Watchers,” he said silkily, prying her thighs apart with his knee. “It’s hardly an accurate evaluation without side by side demonstrations.” He began probing for entrance, her quim still damp with her own arousal as well as Giles’s seeping ejaculate. He should have been repulsed, but it only aroused him further as he slid through the slippery mess into the ecstasy of her cunt.
Lilah struggled against him in the way he had come to learn was about power and not resistance. Giles had rolled onto his side, head propped up on his elbows to watch with lidded, sated eyes, his hand plucking casually at his soft cock. This was Wesley’s weakness, the knowledge that someone was watching, and with a hungry moan he began fucking her mercilessly.
Her breathing quickly matched pace with his, her legs coming up to wrap around the back of his thighs. “You are such a dirty boy,” she chided mockingly. “Any decent man would at least clean me up first.”
With a fierce twist of his hips, he forced his way even deeper into her, drawing an artless moan from her lips. “Why should I?” he demanded, watching her expression. “Saves me the trouble of turning you on again.”
“You bastard,” she cursed him breathlessly.
She was a balm on his aching cock. As hard as she was, she shouldn’t feel so soft, but she did. Soft and clutching around his shaft, soft and strong as she writhed beneath him, her breasts warm silk against him as her tight nipples etched slow oblongs into his chest with each thrust.
He was quickly lost in all the sensations of her, feeding his desperate need. He didn’t even realize how vulnerable he was until she lifted her head to slide her tongue along the sensitive new flesh carved into his throat. The almost painful intensity of it rocketed through him, overwhelming his restraint. He came with a roar, his body locked into hers as he lost all sense of the world around him, his focus narrowed to the ineffable relief of orgasm.
She must have come as well, as she lay limp and exhausted beneath him, her eyes closed, her hair tangled damply around her face. Giles reached out one broad hand to pull the hair off her neck, reminding them of his presence.
Wesley’s body was satisfied, but his mind screamed in frustration. He had wanted to hold out longer, drive her harder, but the increased stimulus of the situation, seeing and being seen, hearing and being heard, had built him to a fever pitch before he had even started. And Lilah knew his weak spot, didn’t hesitate to use it against him to try to retain power over him.
But he knew her weakness, too.
Releasing her hands, he drifted slowly down her body, pausing to lavish slow attention on her breasts. She purred contentedly, and he glanced up to see Giles, who had moved closer to her now, gently stroking her face and neck with his fingertips, all the while watching Wes closely. Wes just raised his eyebrows and continued working his way down.
The muscles in her stomach began quivering as he traced circles around her navel. She knew where he was headed, and the anticipation of it was making her respond before he’d even started. She rolled her hips against his chest, seeking out friction, which only gave him the excuse he needed to pin her down, holding her in place as he moved between her legs.
Slowly he tongued over the delicate skin along her thighs, cleaning away the ejaculate of three people. It was salty and ripe on his tongue, the additional element lending a layer of character to the familiar combination. She whimpered and tried to move against him, but he held her tightly in place as he oh so slowly began tracing around her outer folds. Unable to control his movements, she dragged her hands through her hair before sliding them down to clutch and pull at her breasts, softly moaning in anticipation. She cried out when he delved into her, the thick secretions heavy on his tongue as he slowly began cleaning her inch by sensitive inch.
The bed shifted, and Wesley looked up to see Lilah with her hand now wrapped around Giles’s cock, drawing him up on his knees to where she could slide her tongue over his head. Wes hummed against her mound and began working her faster, never taking his eyes off them. Giles rested a hand on her head and leaned closer, encouraging her as she opened her mouth to allow him in. Giles’s head rolled back in pleasure as she began sucking on him, her strokes matching the pace Wesley set with his tongue. She looked absolutely ecstatic, whimpering and arching and sucking with fluid, decadent grace. Wes didn’t know what she had planned, but he was determined that this time it would go according to his desires. Which meant distracting her from her objective, whatever it might be.
Considering his position, that shouldn’t be difficult.
He latched onto her clit, his teeth resting close against the base before drawing strongly on it, his tongue flicking madly. A muffled scream was his reward as she heaved up under him, nearly throwing him off. He felt rather than saw Giles wisely move away, heard Lilah’s incoherent cries as she bucked against him, heels hammering on the mattress, but he didn’t release her until finally she fell limp and vulnerable beneath him.
He rose up on his knees to study her. That was more like it. Now that she was distracted and unprepared, he could deliver the finishing flourish. With a little help.
Giles leaned against the headboard watching them, unconcerned with his nudity. His erection was plainly visible, dusky and thick, the head darker from the blood that filled it. Wesley shifted from between Lilah’s legs, rising to stand beside the bed. “Your turn,” he offered to the other man. “She owes you.”
Giles trailed a hand down her torso as her moved between her thighs. “Are you up for it?” he asked her, genuine concern in his voice.
She didn’t respond, merely licked her lips with a small smile and spread her legs for him.
Wesley watched as Giles sheathed himself in her yet again. The girl was entirely too smug. He would have to do something about that.
He moved up the bed to the bedside table, sliding the drawer open with a rough scrape. The sound roused her, and she turned her head to watch as Wesley took out the bottle of lubricant they kept there. Her eyes widened as she looked from him to the man currently riding her, and she began moving against him more, the path of her imagination obvious in her reaction. Wes squeezed a line of clear gel into his palm and, dropping the bottle back into the drawer, began stroking the cool thickness along his own rigid cock. She watched him avidly, now gasping musically with Giles’ every stroke.
“You’d like that, would you?” He moved back down the bed until he was behind Giles, resting one hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You’d like to watch me, feel me bugger him while he’s fucking you.” Wes made a show of studying the man’s back as though preparing to do just that. Then he looked back up into her eyes. “Is that what you want?”
She twisted eagerly under Giles. “Fuck, yes,” she begged.
Wesley pushed on Giles’ hip, indicating what he wanted him to do. Giles understood instantly, and a moment later had gathered Lilah up in his arms to roll with her, moving her into the superior position. So pleased was she with this new arrangement that she didn’t realize her vulnerability until Wes’ still slick hand slid between the cheeks of her ass. “I’d rather bugger you,” he grumbled against her ear, already moving his cock into position.
“You goddamn fucking son of a oh my god oh fuck Wesley!” Her whole body tightened as he forced his way through the cinched muscle and into her. It was tight, squeezing him rather than the soft clutch of her vagina, the space restricted further by Giles’ presence in her other channel. Wes could feel him as he slid in, the ridges of their heads catching on one another through the thin membrane of her skin dividing them. Wesley slid back and she cursed louder. She was loving this, he could tell.
So was he.
He held her upright, his hands closed around her breasts for leverage, as slowly they felt out a pattern to their movement. Wesley thrust in deep with a groan, raising her up along Giles’ shaft. When Wes retreated, Lilah sank back down, drawing a similar groan from Giles. As they found their rhythm, they slowly picked up speed until the three of them were fucking along, skin slapping skin, masculine and feminine sounds of pleasure chorusing from them as they grew to a frenzy.
Lilah was the first one to come, clutching at Wes’ forearm as she fell out of step with their beat, her head snapped back with a sob of relief as her body finally surrendered. The men continued pumping into her slack body, the two of them supporting her as they continued to find their own pleasure until first Giles and then Wes came with low groans of ecstasy as they both shot deep into her.
Wes pulled back, slipping out of her with a satisfying pop as she dropped down onto Giles’ chest. He held her for a moment as Wesley cleaned her off, then shifted her down to lay next to him, pulling the comforter up over her.
Wes watched them for a moment. “I’m going to go shower,” he said finally, not waiting for Giles’ response.
When he came out, dressed modestly in his robe, Giles was dressed and packing his files and notes back into the satchel. “You aren’t staying?”
Giles looked up. “No,” he said, packing the last folders before smiling benignly. “I think I’d find it a bit too distracting.”
“You needn’t go. I can get rid of Lilah . . .”
“No, don’t. I should go anyway. I have to catch a plane to New York in less than thirty-six hours, and I need to meet with several people before I go. And catch up on my sleep, apparently.” To Wes’s surprise, he actually sounded amused.
“I’m sorry.” Wes kept his tone flat. “We should never have dragged you into our situation.”
“Don’t apologize. I am an adult, and fully capable of saying no. It was . . .” He hesitated, lost in thought before looking up again. “It was cathartic.” His face darkened as he grew more serious. “Wesley, I talked to Cordelia before I came here. I know what you’re doing. And I can tell you that this kind of relationship won’t leave you unmarked.”
“We don’t have a relationship. We have this, what you saw.”
“Anger, passion. Violence and power.” Giles nodded understanding. “I know exactly what it is the two of you have. You deny it’s more than that, insist that it doesn’t mean anything. But it’s harder and harder to go a day without her, isn’t it? She’s under your skin, and you’re under hers. You’re forging ties between you that are even more enduring than those of love, however much you may deny it. I know, I’ve been there. Just . . . be careful.”
Wesley fought to hide his resentment. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Giles sighed, not fooled. “So be it.” He threw on his barn coat and picked up the briefcase. “I’ll have copies of everything made and sent to you. If you find anything new, leave word with Buffy. I should be back in Sunnydale by the end of the week. Thank you for you help and, well . . .” His eyes drifted to the bedroom. “Yes, well. Thank you.”
Wesley just watched as the door closed behind him before finally turning to head back into the bedroom.
He paused in the doorway to study her. She lay sound asleep on his pillows, her auburn hair scattered loosely around her head. All the calculated sharpness that usually shaped her features was eased in sleep, giving her natural beauty an almost girlish innocence. He never watched her sleep, rarely gave her the chance to do more than doze afterwards when she was here. Giles’ words came back to him and he found himself drawn to the bedside, tracing his fingertips imperceptibly along her disheveled hair. He could admit to himself now that he had been jealous on first seeing them together, like catching someone playing with his favorite toy. What followed after was as much a denial of that reaction to himself as it was a punishment for her. Humiliation had become the coin of the realm in their dealings, and they paid no attention to the fact that they each ran willingly to their own degradation in leading each other down.
He took off his robe and draped it over the chair before crawling into the bed to spoon up against her back, draping his arm negligently around her waist. To his surprise, she nestled back against him, sighing softly in her sleep. He hesitated, then buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of her. He drifted off to sleep denying the comfort he found in her body, her sweet perfume filtering into his dreams.