Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Collections:
Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
Stats:
Published:
2020-11-05
Words:
2,246
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
10
Hits:
1,119

Strategy

Summary:

Angel needs to be careful what he wishes for.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Strategy
by nancy
the_tenth_muse1@yahoo.com


There weren't many things that caused Angel to be literally struck speechless. As a rule, he tried to listen more than he talked, since that was the best way to find things out. And generally speaking, small talk wasn't really his thing, but he could be charming and verbose if he absolutely had to; though fortunately those times were few and far between. But choosing not to speak and being unable to, without the `aid' of a spell...that was something else entirely.

Wesley folded his arms over his chest and demanded, testy, "Would you all please stop gaping? You look absolutely ridiculous!"

Fred was the first to break the silence with a stunned, "Wes...um...you have wings?"

"So it would seem," he replied shortly. "And if someone would kindly close their mouth and assist me with research, I'm sure I could get rid of the bloody things!"

Gunn, Angel, and Cordelia's jaws all shut at the same time, the sounds clicking loud enough to level up Wesley's glare another notch. He snarled wordlessly and stalked towards the office only to discover that he couldn't get through them. His wings, amazing, pearlescent hues of browns, some Angel had never truly noticed before in the world around him, were too large. Wesley hissed in fury and turned to his side, ducking down to get inside the office.

In accord, Angel, Gunn, Fred, and Cordelia all walked forward to stare through the open window into the office while Wesley did battle with trying to sit in the chair. Still astonished, Angel asked softly, "He's really got wings, right?"

"Sure as hell looks like it," Gunn replied.

Cordelia snorted. "Leave it to Wesley to find the ultimate accessory." Everyone stared at her.

"Oh, what?" she demanded, defensive. "The man is way too coordinated, and don't tell me none of you noticed."

As if that were the signal for things to get back to normal, Angel shook his head and said, "Okay. Right. Gunn, Fred, make with the research. Cordelia, um, find out what birds eat, just in case his insides changed, too."

Glaring at him, Cordelia questioned pointedly, "And what will you be doing?"

Angel looked back at Wesley, currently trying to pull his wing out from under him and coming up with feathers in hand and a pained expression. Shaking his head again, he said, "I have to see a man about a song."

Because this was absolutely, positively, not his fault.

It wasn't.

Couldn't be.

* * * *

"Well of course it's your fault, sugarlips, I warned you, didn't I?"

Groaning, Angel thumped his head down on the bar and moaned, "Wes is going to kill me."

Lorne patted his shoulder and soothed, "There, there, big boy, don't worry. I'm sure he won't use actual wood, so it won't be permanent. And by the way, what possessed you to tempt Fate like that, anyhow?"

Angel sighed and sat back up. "It seemed a good idea at the time?"

Eyebrows lifting, Lorne repeated, "It seemed like a good idea to tweak your ass at Fate? Angel, babycakes, how many times do I have to tell you that Fate is not only a bitch, but has no sense of humor? And I'm not speaking metaphorically, either."

"I know," Angel agreed. "But this isn't totally my fault! It's not like wishing Wes would lighten up should give him wings! Who thinks like that? I don't think like that. Do you think like that? No. Because people don't think like that!"

Lorne snorted. "Angel, you're babbling. Not that I blame you, because when Wesley finds out? You are in deep doo-doo, my friend."

"You know technically, you're the one who introduced me to that wish-granting demon, so this is your fault," Angel reasoned slowly, brightening at the thought.

Wagging a red finger in Angel's face, Lorne warned, "Don't even go there cupcake, or my wrath will be mighty."

"You know, I really wish umph!"

Both of Lorne's hands covered Angel's mouth and he hissed, "Don't even think about it! Or, if you do, not in my club!"

Angel sighed again.

* * * *

Wesley tried to scratch between his shoulder blades, but couldn't reach the itch. When strong fingers did it for him, he groaned in sheer pleasure and relaxed against the sensation. "Oh dear God, that's perfect...a little to the left? Yes, oh thank you, Angel."

Angel smiled awkwardly and stepped away as he shrugged and said, "Anytime. So, did you find anything?"

There was something...off...about Angel's tone and Wesley frowned as he answered, "Not as such, no. There are plenty of legends, of course, and the whole angel mythology, but none of it's terribly helpful. There are also plenty of spells to cause one to grow wings and demons who can make it happen, but I haven't run across any of them. Not that I'm aware of, at least."

"Right, because where would you run across something like that?" Angel agreed.

Wesley squinted at him, his frown increasing at the...strangely innocent expression on the vampire's face. "What about you? Where have you been? Oh, and thank you so very much for sending Cordelia out to the pet store for me. Very kind."

Angel shrugged. "You never know how far the transformation might go."

"Well, if I develop a beak or talons, I shall certainly investigate a change in my diet," Wesley retorted. And then it hit him. Angel looked guilty, not innocent. Positively solicitous, which meant he'd definitely had a hand in whatever had happened. Crossing his arms together, he demanded, "What did you do to me?"

The wince confirmed his suspicions and Angel held up both hands as he said, "Now, Wes, just remember that it's really not my fault. Lorne introduced me to a, uh, well, a wish granting demon, some kind of second or third cousin to the Fates, and I might have, possibly, accidentally insulted him."

Wesley went very still. If he so much as moved, he knew he would explode and despite his solid exterior, Angel had a rather fragile psyche. He took a deep breath and released it slowly before asking, "And just when were you going to mention this to me?"

"I didn't think anything would happen!" Angel exclaimed. "Nothing did happen!"

That did it. Wesley jumped to his feet and shouted, "I grew wings, Angel! What the bloody fuck did you think caused them?"

Angel flinched when the wings in question spread, crashing into the walls of the small room. He seemed to fold in on himself, looking as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and whispered, "I'm sorry, Wes, I didn't mean anything bad to happen."

Wesley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and forcing himself to calm down. His back started aching fiercely and he jerked from side to side, trying to figure out how to retract the damn things. Once he managed it, he took another deep breath and then walked over to where Angel stood, looking at him warily. Putting both hands on Angel's shoulders, he said, "I know you didn't mean for this to happen, but it did. So we need to find that demon and have this reversed."

"Um, yeah. About that? Not really going to happen," Angel told him reluctantly.

Silently counting to ten in Latin, Wesley forced himself to ask calmly, "And why not?"

"Well, the reason the Fates got insulted is I ah, I kind of killed the demon."

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

"I suggest you leave. Right now."

Angel left. Quickly.

Wesley shut the door and pulled down the blinds to the large window. When he was certain that he had as much privacy as he could possibly get, he screamed long and loud, cursing every deity he knew, which was rather a lot. His wings spread of their own accord and he punched the wall, discovering an astonishing amount of added strength sending his fist through the plaster.

Grinning, feral, Wesley proceeded to demolish the wall.

* * * *

Gunn joined Angel outside the office and observed, "He's been quiet for a good ten minutes. You going to check on him?"

"Are you?" Angel countered.

Gunn smirked. "No, but he ain't my boytoy, either."

Angel sighed and knew the other man was right, but he really didn't want to face his lover. Bad enough to have caused pain, yet again, to someone he loved; to actually face the consequences of it wasn't his strong suit.

"Go on," Gunn urged him. "Worst he can do is stick a sword in you. No wooden stakes in the office that I know about."

Angel made a face at him and said, "Thanks, Gunn, I appreciate the concern."

"Hey, what're friends for?"

Snorting, Angel headed for the office a short distance away and thought, Well...if he looks like he's going to leave me, I'll just pull out the guilt thing again. Won't be too hard and he always caves when I use that one.

Angel might not have cultivated Wesley's impression that he was emotionally fragile, but he wasn't going to correct it, either. It came in damn handy on the rare occasions that he had to use that assumption to his advantage. While some might call that manipulative, Angel just considered it good strategy; all was fair game in love and war. And his relationship with Wesley often resembled both at the same time.

Taking an unnecessary breath, Angel opened the door and peeked inside to find the office utterly destroyed except for the bookshelves. Naturally. Wesley wouldn't do anything to hurt books. The furniture and computer equipment, however, didn't fare nearly as well.

Wesley himself sat in a corner, wings pulled up around him like a full-bodied shield. The light shimmered on the feathers, cascading across shades from the lightest, barely there beige to the deepest, darkest brown. It was a hypnotic affect and Angel had to shake himself out of just staring at the beautiful sight.

Clearing his throat, Angel asked, "Wes? You okay?"

For a long moment, there was no response. Then the wings parted and Wesley looked at him with an utterly miserable expression and whispered, "I'm hideous. How can you even stand to be in the same room with me?"

Instantly at his lover's side, Angel knelt in front of him and said, "You're not hideous! You're, well, the wings are beautiful, Wes. Truly. Like nothing I've ever seen before, and you know I've seen a lot. This is my fault, Wes, and we'll find a way to fix it, I promise.
Now, come on. Why don't we go downstairs and I'll fix you some tea and you can just get some rest? You've got to be exhausted, right? It's not everyday you, ah, get some extra appendages."

Angel helped Wesley stand and figured out how to put an arm around the slight man's waist so his lover could lean on him. One of the wings rested upon him, a ticklish weight that he didn't comment on as he brought Wesley downstairs to their shared apartment. He got the other settled on the bed, resting on the fluffiest of their pillows and made tea for him, then heated up one of the leftover scones while he was at it.

Once he got Wesley situated, Angel said, "I'm just going to check in with the others and then I'll be back. You'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Wesley said in a small voice, looking down at his tea.

Angel lightly gripped Wes' chin and tilted it up for a soft kiss. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

Wesley sighed faintly, but nodded and sipped at his tea.

Angel gave him a worried look, but sped upstairs to tell the others what had really happened and set them into figuring out a way to reverse it. Then he would spend the day pampering Wesley in a way he hadn't for far too long. Something else that Angel scolded himself for. He knew his lover needed extra care and had neglected him.

He vowed to fix that, too.

* * * *

It took all Wesley had not to give in to the laughter that threatened it, but he managed it until Angel was well and truly gone. Snickering turned into full scale laughing and he had to set the teacup on the bedside table to bury his face in a pillow. Once it was out of his
system, he wiped away the tears and got resettled against the mound of pillows. The wings were annoying and in the way, he'd never be able to sleep on his back or side again, for which Angel would definitely pay.

Still. He wouldn't make his vampire suffer for too long. The unexpected ability to read Angel's thoughts had jumped into existence just as Angel had been thinking about his supposedly fragile state of mind and lasted until the whole `love and war' comparison. It seemed to come and go, maybe the strength of the emotions behind the thoughts being the catalyst.

And getting some pampering out of his lover would be absolutely divine, no matter how it came about. Wesley wasn't an ex-watcher for no reason, after all; he, too, knew all about strategy. Hearing Angel set foot on the top stair, Wesley assumed the wan expression of before and sipped at his tea.

This could be fun. A lot of fun.

He hid his grin in the teacup.

end

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Nancy.
If this work is yours and you would like to reclaim ownership, you can click on the Technical Support and Feedback link at the bottom fo the page.