Angel / Protocol / Part Twenty-Two

PART TWENTY-TWO

They lay in silence for the better part of an hour, Wes drifting in and out of sleep from what Angel guessed was the aftereffects of being drugged. Sometimes he trembled, the sedative apparently not enough to chase nightmares away. Angel held him tighter in those moments and hoped that it helped.

Finally, when Wes had lain awake for some time, Angel asked, "Feeling better?"

Wes nodded, moving to get up. "Yes, my Lord. I'm sorry. I'll - "

Angel pulled him back down onto the bed. "I didn't say get up. I asked if you were feeling better."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Are you lying to me?"

The hesitation was a giveaway. "Not as such, my Lord."

"You don't have to be okay," Angel said. He rubbed Wes's arm in a manly, comforting gesture. "You had a bad morning. You can be not okay."

Wes didn't say anything, but he moved a bit closer into Angel's touch.

"Be not okay all you want," Angel told him. "You don't need my permission. Or, if you do, you've got it. Be not okay for as long as you want to."

"I don't *want* to," Wes said, quietly.

"But you are," Angel guessed.

Wes nodded.

"This happen to you before?" Angel asked. "The lingering?"

For some reason Wes flinched at that. "Yes, my Lord."

Angel moved his hand to Wes's side, squeezing his hip, then holding it. "What's it feel like?"

"As though I have failed, my Lord," Wes said.

"You haven't," Angel told him. "What *else* does it feel like?"

"Fear," Wes admitted. "Low-lying fear. Imagine being in a make-believe haunted house, only instead of play ghosts and vampires - "

"There are real ones?" Angel guessed.

"There's someone standing directly behind you with a gun," Wes finished. He reached up, tapping the back of his neck. "Right there. Cocked and ready. And if you so much as jump, or breathe, it will blow your brains out."

Angel took stock of Wes's state, then trusted his gut. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the spot in question. "No one will ever hurt you, Wesley. You're mine now."

Wes shivered as though he'd been dropped into ice water. "M-my Lord - "

Angel held him tight. He took Wes's left hand in his own, making sure Wes could feel both of their wedding bands. "I promise. You're safe with me."

"You don't have to keep me safe, my Lord," Wes said, but his fingers threaded through Angel's and remained there.

"Wes, I want to try something," Angel said.

Wesley looked up at him. "Whatever my Lord likes."

"Let's take a day off," Angel said. "Both of us. A real one."

Wes frowned. "My Lord takes imaginary days off?"

"Not like that," Angel said. "I mean - take *everything* off. Not just the job, but everything. Let's just be two guys, spending some time together. No king, no spouse, no rules, no protocol. Just us."

"My Lord," Wesley said, "with all due respect if we were to be seen - "

"Nobody will see," Angel said. "We'll hide up here. Get food sent in and pretend that we're camping or something."

"Camping," Wesley repeated.

"Yeah," Angel sat up, propping himself up on his elbow. "I used to do this when Connor got sick. We'd stay inside and play games and if he was up for it I'd let him eat anything he liked."

"And this is camping, in your culture?" Wesley asked.

"*Pretend* camping," Angel said.

"You wish to pretend camp with me," Wesley said.

"Yeah," Angel said.

Wes took that in. "My Lord, are you ill?"

"I'm not *ill*," Angel said. "I'm - Wes, ever since you got here we've done everything the way the Council wants us to. For a day, for *one* day, let's do it the way that I want to."

Wes sat up. "My Lord, I am always devoted to your happiness and obeying your every desire."

"Yes," Angel said. "But with the 'my Lord's and the no questions or demands or *anything* of you and for *one day* I want you to see that it's not going to kill you if you call me Angel."

"I've called you Angel," Wes said, pulling his robe tight around him like a protective coat.

"So do it again," Angel said. "Do it all day."

"And if I call you Angel that means we'll be camping?" Wesley asked.

"No, it means we'll be *us*," Angel said. He shifted position so he was sitting directly in front of Wes. "C'mon. You can't tell me that deep down you haven't wanted one day to just say to Hell with those Council idiots and be *yourself*."

Wes's hands tightened on his robe. "I *am* a spouse, my Lord. If that is not adequate enough for you - "

"Ah, there, see," Angel said, pointing a finger at him. "You're being polite. What you *really* want to do is tell me to fuck off."

"I didn't say that," Wesley said.

"But you *want* to," Angel said.

"It's not about my wants!" Wesley shouted, then immediately clamped his mouth shut.

"For a day it could be," Angel said. He rested his hands on Wes's knees. "One day. That's all I'm asking. One day when you say the first thing that's on your mind without swallowing it down and figuring out how to be extra polite. One day when you can talk to me about *being* a spouse without worrying about what the rules won't allow you to say. One day where I'm Angel, and you're Wesley, and you and I are the only people in the room. No rules, no protocol, no Council."

Wes shook his head. "My Lord, I - "

"Nobody will know," Angel promised. "And if you need a way to do it, then I'll order you. I'll order you to stay with me, call me by my name, and say whatever you want to say."

Wes was trembling again. "My Lord…"

"One day," Angel repeated. "One day when you trust me to keep you safe."

That did it. He could see the idea hit home. "I do trust you."

"Then try it my way," Angel said. "Tomorrow we'll go back to rules and regulations and everything else. For now we're just two guys." Angel held his hand out, offering it in a shake. "Deal?"

Wes took it, holding it firmly. "Deal."

They stared at each other for a few moments.

"You don't even know where to begin, do you?" Angel asked.

"I have never been 'just a guy' in my entire life, my L - Angel," Wes said. "I am spouse and I am royalty. I can act like either of those but as you've just told me not to - "

"I'll lead then," Angel said. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, then got up.

"Pointing out that that would make you very king-like would be a futile task on my part, yes?" Wesley asked.

"See?" Angel said, not missing a beat, "you're getting the hang of saying what's on your mind already."

"If you can be a king I don't see why I can't at least still be a prince," Wesley said.

"Be *emperor* if you want," Angel said, "We're still not doing any rules or titles or protocol. Now first thing we have to do is change. What do you own that's comfortable and can get messy?"

Wes simply stared at him.

"Right, forgot who I was talking to," Angel said. He opened his top bureau drawer. "You can borrow my sweats then."

"Has my Lord perhaps forgotten that he and I are not the same size?" Wesley asked.

"Angel."

"Has *Angel* perhaps forgotten that he and I are not the same size?"

Angel looked at him. "You are *really* good at that deadpan thing."

Wes quirked an eyebrow. "Who said I was being deadpan?"

"Sweats fit everybody," Angel told him. He pulled out a pair, and a t-shirt, tossing them to Wesley on the bed. "There's a drawstring. You'll be fine."

Wes picked up the shirt and sweatpants, studying them critically. "Are socks allowed, or is being cold something that guys enjoy?"

"You can wear socks," Angel said, stripping out of his own clothes.

"And long sleeves?" Wesley asked. "Completely verboten for fear that will lead to sudden bursts of courtesy?"

Angel tossed him a hooded sweatshirt. "There. Happy?"

"As happy as any spouse can be, when their husband is having an episode," Wesley said.

Angel shrugged into a sweatshirt of his own. "I am *not* having an episode."

"Of course not," Wesley said.

"You're getting the frank speech thing down pretty quick," Angel said.

"I'm pretending you're another member of the Council," Wesley said.

"Just so long as you humor me," Angel said, adjusting the drawstring of his own pants.

"Ah," Wesley said, "In which case your jokes are very funny."

"You've been talking to Xander, haven't you?" Angel guessed.

Wes nodded.

"Don't tell me anything else," Angel said.

"He said you'd say that too."

"Camping," Angel said. He went back to the bed and tugged at the blanket. "We'll play games and eat whatever you want and the whole nine yards."

Wes's hand caught the blanket, holding it still. "My - Angel, what are you doing?"

"We need stuff to sit on and make a tent," Angel said.

"This is a blanket," Wesley said.

"Right," Angel said.

There was more staring.

"You've never done indoor camping before, have you?" Angel guessed.

"If I did I would be well-versed in abuse of bedding?" Wesley asked

"That's how you do it," Angel said. He let go and sketched a picture in the air with his hands. "You make a tent with the blanket and a little fort with the couch cushions and you crawl inside and stay there for the rest of the day."

"Angel, you don't *do* that," Wesley said.

"I do, trust me," Angel said. "Connor can back me up and everything."

"But this is *important*," Wesley said. "This is valuable material and should be treated with respect."

Angel suddenly suspected that it wasn't Wesley who was giving that opinion. "It's just a blanket. It can be washed."

Wesley shook his head. "That's wrong."

Angel gently tugged the blanket out of Wes's hands. "It's okay. I promise. The world is not going to end."

"No, it - " Wes started, then grabbed hold again. "Angel, no tents."

"Okay," Angel said, happy to give in to Wes's requests whenever he had the courage to make them.

"It's just - " the fear was back in Wes's face. "Please. I - I don't like them."

"We'll do a picnic then," Angel said, wanting Wes to *get* it. To *see* that it was okay to ask for things. That nobody was going to punish him, least of all Angel.

"I'm sorry," Wes said.

Angel kissed him. "It's okay. There's no rules today, remember? That means there doesn't have to be tents."

Wes looked up at him with eyes that were wide. "Can there be touching?"

"There can be touching," Angel said.

"Both kinds?" Wesley asked.

Angel didn't know who had done this to Wes, but he did know he wanted to beat the shit out of them. "Both kinds."

Wes smiled. "I'd like that."

Angel tilted his head towards the outer rooms. "Come join me then. We'll do picnic and touching."

Wes slipped his hand into Angel's. "That would be rather nice."

Angel led the way. "I'm hoping."

"Particularly as we seem to be very good at the kind which involves sex."

"Can't say I've got a complaint," Angel admitted. "But we'll get some practice in with the other kind too."

Wes responded by squeezing his hand tighter.