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viciouswishes
Post-Mortem
by James
Dying, as it went, sucked. And from what he could see of the life he'd lived -- he hadn't learned a thing.
Wesley -- he still felt most attached to his recent name, as well as the figure. Soon he would discorporeate out of a human body, but for now he felt at ease within the body he'd lived in for the last forty odd years. Almost forty.
Not a very long time, but about average, for him. He always got caught up in these battles, good versus evil, and it invariably meant he was killed off at a younger age than was strictly fated.
He didn't really want to think about all his past lives, but this was exactly what he had to do. Time soon enough for him to choose a new one, and if the last was anything to go by, he had a lot of work to do on the state of his soul.
"Hey."
Wesley looked up as he felt the arrival of the newcomer even as the word -- the voice penetrated his thoughts.
"Angel."
The words 'you're dead' were caught before being uttered. Stupid enough, and obvious. Angel looked none the worse for wear -- but his image was a projection of his will, here. Which meant he felt more or less like himself.
Wesley was glad he couldn't see what he looked like. Tired, to be sure.
"You're already trying to pick your next one?" Angel asked, coming closer and finding -- creating -- a chair out of nothing. Half-formed images of an office could be seen around them.
Wesley nodded. "I have a great deal of work to do."
Even as he said it memories filled him, lives he'd lived before -- conversations he'd had with Angel, between them. He looked over, seeing Angel's face again. 'I know you' also stayed silent on his lips because it, too, was obvious.
Angel took his hand. "You wanna go someplace warm?"
There was a joke about Hell, which Wesley did not care to make. But he found himself starting to smile.
"A beach, and we can lay on the porch in lounge chairs and do nothing." Angel smiled at him, and Wesley knew there was no way he could say no. Much as he knew there were better things -- more important duties he had to tend to.
"It sounds lovely," he began. "But I think I should--"
"No. No should. Last time you said should you ended up..." Angel thought for a moment. "As a soldier with dubious morals, who fell in love with a vampire he couldn't ever have sex with without him going evil." ANgel scowled, as though *that* choice had been Wesley's fault.
"Dubious morals?"
Angel shrugged. "You lived it. Come on -- let's take some time off. You work too hard. Let's go somewhere and be lazy all our lives."
His hand grew warm, in Angel's. "We would have to be spoiled house cats, to get away with that," he said, not quite as severely as he thought he should.
"I'm OK with that."
Wesley finally returned the smile. He closed his fingers around Angel's. "You talk me into the most decadent things."
Angel stood, and pulled Wesley after him. "The war with Crete was not my doing."
"It most certainly was." Wesley cut off the argument the way he usually did -- by kissing him.
Perhaps the life of a housecat on the beach wouldn't be so terribly awful, after all. As long as Angel was there, it would be all right.
viciouswishesPost-Mortem
by James
Dying, as it went, sucked. And from what he could see of the life he'd lived -- he hadn't learned a thing.
Wesley -- he still felt most attached to his recent name, as well as the figure. Soon he would discorporeate out of a human body, but for now he felt at ease within the body he'd lived in for the last forty odd years. Almost forty.
Not a very long time, but about average, for him. He always got caught up in these battles, good versus evil, and it invariably meant he was killed off at a younger age than was strictly fated.
He didn't really want to think about all his past lives, but this was exactly what he had to do. Time soon enough for him to choose a new one, and if the last was anything to go by, he had a lot of work to do on the state of his soul.
"Hey."
Wesley looked up as he felt the arrival of the newcomer even as the word -- the voice penetrated his thoughts.
"Angel."
The words 'you're dead' were caught before being uttered. Stupid enough, and obvious. Angel looked none the worse for wear -- but his image was a projection of his will, here. Which meant he felt more or less like himself.
Wesley was glad he couldn't see what he looked like. Tired, to be sure.
"You're already trying to pick your next one?" Angel asked, coming closer and finding -- creating -- a chair out of nothing. Half-formed images of an office could be seen around them.
Wesley nodded. "I have a great deal of work to do."
Even as he said it memories filled him, lives he'd lived before -- conversations he'd had with Angel, between them. He looked over, seeing Angel's face again. 'I know you' also stayed silent on his lips because it, too, was obvious.
Angel took his hand. "You wanna go someplace warm?"
There was a joke about Hell, which Wesley did not care to make. But he found himself starting to smile.
"A beach, and we can lay on the porch in lounge chairs and do nothing." Angel smiled at him, and Wesley knew there was no way he could say no. Much as he knew there were better things -- more important duties he had to tend to.
"It sounds lovely," he began. "But I think I should--"
"No. No should. Last time you said should you ended up..." Angel thought for a moment. "As a soldier with dubious morals, who fell in love with a vampire he couldn't ever have sex with without him going evil." ANgel scowled, as though *that* choice had been Wesley's fault.
"Dubious morals?"
Angel shrugged. "You lived it. Come on -- let's take some time off. You work too hard. Let's go somewhere and be lazy all our lives."
His hand grew warm, in Angel's. "We would have to be spoiled house cats, to get away with that," he said, not quite as severely as he thought he should.
"I'm OK with that."
Wesley finally returned the smile. He closed his fingers around Angel's. "You talk me into the most decadent things."
Angel stood, and pulled Wesley after him. "The war with Crete was not my doing."
"It most certainly was." Wesley cut off the argument the way he usually did -- by kissing him.
Perhaps the life of a housecat on the beach wouldn't be so terribly awful, after all. As long as Angel was there, it would be all right.