Hint of a snippet... Written for thebratqueen, 'cause I needed an excuse to wrinte something that's not for a paper.


“Ow!” A small crash sounded from inside the office, and Angel winced. All day, it seemed he had heard nothing but bangs and crashes coming from inside of the office, and he peeked his head around the corner, reluctant to bother Wesley again.

“Um, you okay?” He asked, and Wesley’s face shot up from where he was slumped in the seat. Embarrassment flickered across the Englishman’s face, before the look of careful detachment reappeared.

“I’m quite alright, Angel,” Wesley said, voice slightly weary. “I’ve just managed to catch myself on the desk. Again.”

“You’ve been having trouble with that a lot today,” Angel noted carefully, trying to avoid sounding too awkward, although the shifting of his eyes had probably seen to that. Lingering one second too long on the other man’s face, Angel cleared his throat slightly, and asked, “Are you sure-“

“I’m fine, Angel,” Wesley said, his voice not quite snapping at the vampire, but very close. Irritated, Wesley pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing the small marks left there by his glasses.

“I was just going to ask if you were sure you didn’t want me to haul those books to the desk for you, so you don’t have to keep getting up,” Angel explained, looking pointedly at the cane the other man’s hand was resting on. “That way, you don’t have to keep hitting yourself. And you know sooner or later, Cordelia would hear you…” Wesley’s expression froze for a second, before relaxing slightly, a small smile appearing.

“Yes, I don’t want her in here asking me if I’m okay every five seconds,” he admitted, looking up at Angel. Sighing slightly, he asked, “Angel, could you please hand me that book there?” He pointed, squinting to see which book it was.

Turning around as Angel reached for it, Wesley began to put the book back on the shelves where they belonged. When they had been fired, Wesley had taken the most pertinent books with him, the ones he thought would be of most use. Of course, as had been proven, he hadn’t taken nearly as many as they would need.

Categorizing the books in an order that would make them easy to find, Wesley turned around to pick up some more. He turned, just in time to catch Angel lunging forward, the book flying out of his hands. The book, rare in its own right, landed safely on a chair, but Angel kept stumbling forward. He managed to stop himself before he ran into Wesley, hands clenching around the arms of the chair Wesley was sitting in. His face was suddenly very, very close to Wesley’s, and Wes gasped.

“Angel! Could you be a little more careful?” Wesley asked, and Angel’s eyes widened slightly.

“It’s not my fault it’s like a death trap in here… no wonder you’ve been tripping all day.”

“Yes, well I thought vampires were supposed to be slightly more graceful, coordinated and whatnot,” Wesley returned evenly, looking into Angel’s eyes. Angel’s eyes, which were still very, very close. “I think you can stand up now…”

“And I think you owe me an apology,” Angel said. Before Wesley could protest angrily, Angel continued, holding Wesley’s eyes evenly with his own, which were now twinkling slightly, confusing Wes. “I mean, making me wear the pink helmet, and now trying to make me trip over everything…”

Wesley opened his mouth again, about to protest, only to fall silent as Angel’s lips brushed his, hesitantly at first, then bolder as he was reassured by Wesley’s silence. Wesley’s eyes widened, then closed, as Angel kissed him gently, hand coming up to questioningly grip the human’s shoulder.

When he pulled away, Angel looked at Wesley, eyes obviously questioning, wondering if he had just ruined everything, or if something might be salvaged from his impulsive act. After a moment of silence, Angel slowly stood up straight, beginning to pick his way out of the office.

Behind him, he could hear Wesley picking his glasses up off the desk and cleaning them, before a voice called out, “Angel!” Angel turned, and caught a small smile on the ex-Watcher’s face, as Wes said quietly, “Yes, I think… I think perhaps I might owe you an apology after all.”

And hey, feedback? Always of the good.