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Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe of the rights of Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy or any other copyright holders of Angel.

Transition
by The Brat Queen

Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.

Rated: PG

Summary: Wesley gets ready to move out of his apartment and into the hotel.

"You have too much crap."

Wesley looked up from where he was attempting to organize his silverware. "Cordelia," he protested, "that belonged to my grandmother."

"Oh," Cordy said, holding the Tiffany lamp carefully. She gave it an appraising look, then used it to gesture towards the other items piled around her. "So get rid of this other stuff then. Start fresh. Throw out everything and go on a shopping spree."

"A shopping spree?" Wesley asked. After rummaging around through stacks of old newspapers, he finally found a thick black marker. He scribbled his name and new address onto a ready U-Haul box, labeled it "Kitchen", then began looking for tape.

"Yeah," she replied, folding the lamp carefully into a square of bubble wrap. "Sure beats the heck out of dealing with movers again."

"Tempting though it may be," Wesley said as he slipped rubber bands around clusters of knives and forks, "I'm afraid I don't have what it takes to carry the sheer volume of credit card debt that you're so amazingly casual about."

"It gets really easy once you realize that minimum payment's not going anywhere," Cordy said.

"Bathroom's done," Gunn announced, wiping his hands off on his grey sweats and entering the living room.

"So soon?" Wesley asked.

"Yeah," Gunn said. "Left the box in your bedroom. What's next?"

"Well," Wesley said, pointing towards his desk, "you could try attacking those drawers."

"You got it," Gunn said. He grabbed a roll of tape and began constructing a box.

Angel appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. "Wes, I'm gonna - why are you packing those?"

Wesley blinked. "Packing what?"

Angel walked over to him. "The silverware."

Wesley looked from it to him. "Because I'm fond of it?"

Angel made a face. "I meant now. What are you going to eat with?"

"My mouth and hands seem to be acceptable substitutes," Wesley said dryly, "particularly when coupled with plastic utensils from whatever take away I buy."

"You should eat real food, Wes," Angel said.

"It does sound a damn sight better than those imaginary meals I've grown accustomed to," Wesley agreed. He wrapped up a pair of candlesticks and added them to the box.

"You're a laugh riot," Angel said. "So I'm thinking shelves."

Wesley paused and took a moment to confirm that no, there hadn't been a segue between those comments. "Good for you?"

"What do you want me to do with the creepy-looking magic stuff?" Cordy called over.

"Leave it be," Wesley said, "I'll get to it later."

Cordy nodded and continued wrapping up his table lamps and figurines.

"For your room," Angel said. He pulled out a paper napkin from his pocket, spreading it on the table. He took Wesley's marker and used it to point to the makeshift floorplan he'd penciled on it. "See - bed can go here, bureau over here, maybe a couch and TV here, and then you've got all this room for shelves. You know - for your books?"

"Which he has way too many of," Cordy added.

"I know," Angel said, smiling at Wesley. "So I was thinking shelves."

Wesley smiled back at him. "It sounds ideal."

"Good," Angel said. He pulled out another napkin, this one covered with rectangular drawings. "The space is about eleven feet long so I'm thinking of splitting that up into at least three units. I know a guy who can give me a good deal on lumber - "

"Ah, Angel?"

"- and it turns out a drill costs like nothing. Now this is gonna cover up the wallpaper but it's not like that's a real hardship - "

"Angel?"

"- since it's so fucking ugly," Angel drew to a close, looking at him. "What?"

"You're going to build this?" Wesley asked, pointing to what he now realized was a drawing of a bookcase.

"Yeah," Angel said. "Why - you think it should be four?"

Gunn came over to look. "Seems okay to me."

"Thanks," Angel replied, proudly.

"They do look lovely," Wesley said carefully. "But - how shall I put this?"

"What?" Angel asked.

Wesley placed his hands over his lover's, squeezing them gently, "The thought of what you might do with a power drill terrifies me so much that I may have to rediscover my religion."

Angel made a sound of protest. "I'm not gonna go all dark and torture people with it!"

"Actually I was a bit more concerned about the hotel lights going dark after you'd inadvertently ripped out the wiring," Wesley said, "but thank you for adding that to my concerns."

"Wes -"

"I'm joking."

Angel looked doubtful.

"Well all right," Wesley admitted, "not about the wiring."

"I fixed it before," Angel said.

"Yes," Wesley agreed. "However, that was to kill a demon. This time we'd like all of the occupants to remain alive."

Angel looked down at his plans, then back up at Wesley. "You just want those shelves from Ikea."

Wesley patted his arm encouragingly. "Think - there are all sorts of things one can do with an allen wrench that I'm sure you've never even attempted."

Angel frowned at Gunn. "Allen wrench?"

"Crappy piece of metal with six sides to it," Gunn said, indicating the shape with his fingers. "Good for working with joints though."

Angel shrugged. "I usually used a screwdriver."

Gunn turned to Wesley. "Tell me he means on furniture."

"I'm sure he does," Wesley replied.

Angel merely smirked.

"'Property of the Watcher's Council'?" Angel read from his position on the floor. He made a sound of mock-disapproval as he closed the book and placed it into a box. "Never figured you for a thief, Wes."

Wesley reached up to pull a set of Masai figurines down from the top shelf of his magic cabinet. He began wrapping them up in the paper Cordelia had kindly stacked for him before Gunn had taken her home. "They didn't give me a reasonable severance package so I decided to make my own."

"I'm not complaining," Angel said. He added more books to the box. "Hell - could go rob them again if you wanted to. I'd help."

"Something to do if we ever return to England," Wesley said, folding the paper around a prosperity idol very carefully. He made a mental note to place it in his office when he unpacked. "Of course that means we can schedule that for sometime after the winter of Hell."

"We could go back to England, Wes," Angel said. "I mean if you… oh."

Wesley smiled down at him, handing him another book. "It's all right."

"No, it's not," Angel said, but didn't pursue the matter further.

"I appreciate your help with this," Wesley said, for lack of a better subject to suggest.

"Like I'm gonna have you do all this with your back," Angel replied. He felt along the roll of tape for the edge.

"I'm not as feeble as all that," Wesley said.

"Want me to cancel the movers?"

"Don't put words in my mouth."

They exchanged a grin.

The top shelves taken care of, Wesley decided to allow himself a moment of rest. He pulled a chair over and helped himself to a drink from Angel's beer. It tasted like dust, but it was warm and satisfying.

"Holding up okay?" Angel asked.

"Well enough," he replied. He surveyed the stacks of boxes that filled the room. "I've no idea where all of this came from. Cordelia is right. I've far too much."

Angel finished taping his box closed and wiped his hands on his jeans. He took the beer back and sipped at it himself. "Could always throw some out. On the other hand it's not like you're gonna lack for space to put it in."

"True," Wesley said. He put his feet up on the newly closed box. "I think I'd rather keep it all. In our line of work one can never tell when something might be needed."

Angel nodded. "Yeah. Throw out the Jaffler fluid and you just know we're gonna get a client asking about it."

"Do you mind?" Wesley asked.

"If you get rid of it?" Angel shrugged, taking another sip and throwing the empty can into an open trashbag. "Not like I care. We can always buy more."

Wesley laughed. "I was speaking a bit more globally. I meant about me moving in."

"You're an idiot," Angel said. He stood up. "I'm getting another beer. Want one?"

"Yes," Wesley said. "But I was speaking seriously."

"So was I," Angel said. He walked into the kitchen. "I love you, Wes, but sometimes you are the dumbest guy I have ever met."

Wesley got up and followed him. "Why?"

"Why?" Angel repeated. He opened the refrigerator and took out two beers. "Okay - A, because you actually have to ask me why. B, because you're asking me if I mind you moving in when I asked you if you wanted to do it and C, because you're asking me now after I've spent all day helping you pack up all your stuff. Now I know I'm not the brains of the operation, Wes, but give me some credit that if I did mind this wouldn't be the way I'd show you. For starters, I could have stayed home. Or not asked you. Take your beer."

Wesley wiped off the top of the can with his thumb, then opened it. "So it's really all right? No second thoughts?"

"Really all right, no second thoughts, you're still an idiot sometimes." Angel tipped his head back, taking several deep swallows. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand when he finished. "Why? Are you having second thoughts?"

Wesley leaned against the counter. "Well if I was I could have done things besides spend all day packing. Of course being an idiot I suppose I wouldn't realize that until it was too late and I couldn't find my clothes anymore."

"Funny. Very funny."

"No," Wesley answered. "No second thoughts. I want to be with you. It's as simple as that."

"Yeah, that's our lives," Angel said. "Simple."

"Some things are," Wesley pushed away from the counter to stand beside him. He put his beer down to rest his hands on Angel's chest. "I love you. That's quite simple."

"Nothing simple about that, Wes," Angel said. He slipped his own hands around Wesley's waist. "But I'm not complaining. Love you too. I want to try this."

"This?"

"Living together," Angel explained. "I've never done it before. Not like this. Not when it's… normal."

"Oh yes," Wesley teased, "that's our lives. Normal."

"You know what I mean," Angel said, suddenly more serious. "Nice. Real. I love you and you actually love me back. Like people do."

"Or people and vampires," Wesley said. He caressed Angel's cheek. "I haven't forgotten, you know. But I love you all the same. I trust you all the same."

Angel's brown eyes became dark. "It's still dangerous."

Wesley brushed a kiss across his mouth. "It's worth it. You're worth it. You're worth it entirely."

Angel pressed the cool can of beer into the small of Wesley's back. It felt soothing after the long day. "Want to come to bed?"

Wesley grinned up at him. "I hope you're not expecting anything grand from a very tired mortal."

"Just you," Angel said, serious once again. "That's all I want, Wes. Just you."

Wesley melted into his lover's arms.

Fin.