|
Home / Fan Fiction / Angel / Stand Alone Fics / Wesley and Angel and... ahem.
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.
Wesley and Angel and... ahem
by The Brat Queen
Vague spoilers for post s4 Angel, s7 Buffy.
"Stop sniggering," Wesley told Angel.
The vampire looked back at him with deceptive innocence. "I didn't snigger."
"You did."
"Didn't."
"I heard you."
"Well," Angel said, his mouth twisting into what for him passed for a smile. "You have to admit it's kind of funny."
"No it - " Wesley's protest was cut off by the sudden appearance of a coffee cup in front of his face.
"No cream, two sugars," Andrew said, panting slightly as though he'd been running. Which, Wesley realized, would explain the slight dampness around the edge of his sleeve that looked remarkably like a coffee spill. "Just as you like it."
Wesley counted to ten. He saw Angel cover his mouth as another snigger fit overcame him and then decided to count to twenty.
"Andrew," Wesley said, with as much patience as he could muster, "I didn't ask for coffee."
The boy looked stricken. "Omigod. You're right. Hang on, I'll be right back."
"No - " Wesley tried, but Andrew had already disappeared.
"Moves fast for a little guy," Angel observed.
"Why did you hire him?" Wesley asked, not for the first time.
"You know," Angel said, philosophically, "I remember people asking me that question about somebody else I once gave a job to. Now who was that?"
"This is entirely different," Wesley told him.
"Sure it is."
"Angel, I have absolutely nothing in common with - "
"Tea!" Andrew announced, proudly. He held out the cup, and Wesley took it from him just to make sure the fine china didn't shatter under his grip. Andrew beamed as though he'd been patted on the head. "It's English breakfast. I know it's not breakfast time or, I guess, England but I figured you're English and - "
"Yes, thank you, Andrew," Wesley said. He wondered if actually drinking the tea would make Andrew go away or only serve to encourage him.
"The cafeteria also had pastries," Andrew said. "I thought about bringing up a selection but the lady down there? The tall one? She gave me a nasty look and told me to put them back." Andrew shot a glare at Angel. "I didn't feel that that was good customer service and I filled out a comment card accordingly."
"I'll keep my eye out for it," Angel promised, somehow managing to keep a straight face.
"Anyway," Andrew said, turning back to Wesley, "there were blueberry muffins, bagels, two kinds of cookies one of which had peanut butter and the other was this sort of iced/frosted thing that - "
"I don't need a pastry, Andrew, thank you," Wesley said.
"Oh," Andrew said. His face fell for a moment, then he brightened again. "So can I help you in your office, maybe? I'm very good at organization. Back in high school I was known for my collection of subject-specific binders and color co-ordinated highlighter pens."
Wesley stared at him for a moment then immediately turned his attention back to Angel. "I am nothing like him."
"Of course not," Angel agreed, smirking again.
"And," Andrew continued, apparently oblivious to the conversation going on literally over his head, "for my ability to summon demons which I could help you with, if you wanted."
"We don't summon demons," Wesley explained.
Andrew looked confused. "But what about that green guy?"
"His name is Lorne. And that wasn't a summoning. I simply paged him on the intercom."
"Oh," Andrew said. "Still, I could do it if you wanted."
"No, thank you," Wesley said. He put his teacup down. "Angel, I'll be in my office if you need me."
Now Angel's smirk turned intimate. "I always need you."
"I'll come with," Andrew announced, immediately falling into step behind him. "Because your secretary? Seriously does not get the kind of classification system that sophisticated demonologists like us require in order to - "
"Please interrupt me," Wesley called back to Angel.
"And get in between you and your new boyfriend?" Angel teased.
"He is not my boyfriend!"
Andrew shot ahead of him and pressed the button for the elevator. "So," he said, attempting what Wesley could only hope was intended to be a winsome smile. "Can I polish your wrist thing?"
|