Disclaimer: These characters and their world are as not mine
as they could possibly get.
Summary: When Giles comes for a visit, Wesley reluctantly comes
down with a head cold.
Gift for Nermal
His head
still tilted down towards the books, Wesley glanced around. Cordelia had her
back turned and Angel was looking away as well. He seized the opportunity to
pull out his handkerchief and give his terribly runny nose a few good rubs. It
twitched against the fabric and he resisted the urge to sneeze. Good, old
fashioned will power won out, and he tucked the handkerchief away before any of
his associates noticed its presence.
"So," said
Cordelia said, spinning around and smiling pleasantly. She looked over the pile
of books and papers covering the desk behind which Wesley was currently
sitting. "Considering we have no cases at present and I haven't had a head-splitting
vision since that one last week that made me spill coffee all over my favorite
red shoes... does anyone here have any plans for the weekend that don't involve
staring at old books?" She looked over at Angel. "Or brooding in a dark
basement?"
Silently
Angel and Wesley exchanged looks. Then they both turned to her with a
simultaneous "No."
Cordelia
sighed and collected her purse and jacket. "All right then. I'm going home. I
suppose it is up to me to be the sole example of normality around here."
"Don't have
plans tonight either?" Angel asked casually as he went through a stack of files
that needed to be filed.
"Just bubble
baths and chatting up my dead roommate," she replied quickly and with a shrug. She
pulled on her pea coat and did up the two front buttons.
Wesley
smiled and pushed back in his chair. "I should probably get going as well. It
is growing late and I..." How to finish that sentence made him uncertain, but he was
unable to finish even if he had found the words. "hahhhhh..." Making a quick decision not to go for his handkerchief,
lest it look as though he was prepared for the sneeze, he simply turned and
cupped his hand to his face. "hahhh-IMMShuhhh!"
A slight bit of pressure filled his ears when he half-stifled his sneeze. He
breathed out unsteadily and forced a smile. "Pardon." He sniffled and scrubbed
a finger beneath his nose.
"You all
right, Wes?" Angel asked. Perhaps he sensed something, or perhaps he was simply
concerned. Either way, he moved towards Wesley.
"Just fine,"
Wesley said in his best convincing impression. "Must be all these dusty old
volumes getting to me. A sign that I should be getting home, I think." His nose
was running again and needed to be blow or at least wiped. It tickled as it
ran, and it was all he could do to not lift his hand and wipe his nose. He
sniffed softly, so softly that it was noiseless. His nostrils flared slightly
as he inhaled deeply through his nose just long enough to keep it from running
visibly. It still tickled madly.
"Wow," said
Cordelia, checking her watch and sounding impressed, albeit exaggeratedly. "Not
even eight o'clock and he's heading
home. That's the strangest thing that's happened all day."
"Yes,
well..." Wesley thought it would sound far too cliché to say that he had someone
waiting for him at home. Not to mention that he did not need to be asked
questions about that. The last thing he wanted was for Angel to jump to the
wrong conclusions when he found out Buffy's watcher was in town for the weekend.
"Go on, get
out of here," Angel said, waving at them dismissively and sliding the last file
into the file cabinet, then shutting the drawer. "I'll call you if something
comes up."
Cordelia
was already on her way out as Wesley nodded and gathered his things, slipping
some of his books and papers into his briefcase and picking up his jacket.
*
Dinner, like most of the afternoon at work,
was miraculously sneeze-less for Wesley. The urge presented itself several
times, but he was able to will it away or discretely rub it away each time. If
Giles had noticed how many times Wesley had lifted his hand and rubbed at his
runny nose, he said nothing about it. Instead, they enjoyed a dinner together which
was full of good food and stimulating conversation.
Afterwards,
they settled on the couch together, enjoying tea and each other's touches
alike. Wesley lounged back against Giles, tilting his head to the side to rest
it comfortably in the space between Giles' jaw and shoulder.
He rubbed a
finger against his nose and sniffled silently, a talent he had perfected during
dinner. Though his self control was good at keeping the sneezes at bay, it
could do nothing to help the way his nose ran. And, once in a while, even he
could not prevent a sneeze from striking. He could feel one tickling the back
of his nose now. Wesley cleared his throat. "Can I get you more tea?" he asked
Giles hopefully.
Giles
chuckled lightly. "Though it is lovely tea, I believe three cups was sufficient
for me tonight."
"Ah. Yes."
Wesley said quickly with a nod. He looked down at the tea in his mug and
swirled it around. "It is a special blend of three different teas. Whenever I
feel a bit homesick I try to perfect it." He took a long sip, hoping the
remaining bit of steam might soothe the tickle in his nose. It did not. "I'm
not certain I have it quite right yet." He sniffled again, hoping it would be silent,
but his nose was growing worse and the sound was wet. He cleared his throat and
pretended it had been intentional. "Perhaps another helping of dessert? I think
I might have some of those butter mints," he suggested hopefully.
Giles shook
his head. "No thank you. I am full."
Wesley
pulled away from Giles as the tickle continued to build in his nose. He rubbed
at his nose again. He shifted in his seat, preoccupied and worrying. What he
wanted was to have a nice, quiet evening together. It was not often that their
adventures permitted visits, and wanted this one to go as well as it possibly
could. But the tickle was relentless. Relentless and sudden. "hahhh-hahh-AHShhhh!" He sniffed and
rubbed his finger hard against his nose as he looked up and back at Giles.
"Sorry about that."
Giles
shrugged it off and set his empty teacup on the coffee table. Then he went to
put his arm around Wesley again to draw him close.
Wesley
smiled back at him, then his nose twitched. He pressed a finger beneath his
nose and closed his eyes. One sneeze had been quite enough. If Giles had not
been suspicious about his sniffling, he certainly could not have overlooked the
sneeze. But should a whole fit of sneezing strike, Wesley was sure he would not
be able to explain that away. His nostrils quivered against his finger and he
pinched his nose closed instead. Though his nose was not yet showing physical
signs of soreness, Wesley was sure it soon would and pinching it hurt slightly.
And still the tickles remained. Wesley was beginning to feel desperate and
Giles was starting to look at him concernedly. "I..." He tried to explain. "I... ahhh! Oh." His breath hitched. "Ohdear-hahh-EhShhhhhh! HehhhShihhh!" He shook
with each sneeze and each tossed his forward in place. "ehhhShhhhh! hehhSchhhh! Ehhhh-AHShhhh! ehhhHushhhh!" Deciding he
was in desperate need of it, Wesley managed to pull his handkerchief out to
catch the last few sneezes. "ehhh-HIHChffff!
Ehhh... ihhh-hahhShfffff!" Feeling the
tickle leave at last, he sniffed heartily and pushed his glasses back into
place as they had become askew while sneezing. As far as sneezing fits went,
this one had been relatively mild.
Nonetheless,
it was difficult to miss. Though Wesley was used to appearing flustered, he did
not easily blush. But after those sneezes, his cheeks had turned a bright pink.
"Suppose I should have gone for that tea after all," he whispered. He coughed a
few times and down the rest of his tea. He did not need to look up to realize
Giles was staring at him critically, awaiting an explanation. He cleared his
throat. "I'm sorry. I believe I've caught a bit of a cold in my nose." Getting
no immediate response from Giles and feeling awkward, he started to get up.
Giles held
him back with a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked upon Wesley with sympathy
and worry alike. "Why did you not tell me earlier you were feeling unwell?"
"I'm
sorry," Wesley said, shrugging. "I had so hoped to be a good host this
weekend." He shifts uncomfortably even as Giles' hand on his shoulder began to
massage.
Noticing
his distress, Giles inquired as to why Wesley would put their visit over his
own health.
The flush
in Wesley's cheeks was not helped by that question. "Well, I only... I... ahhh--" He frowned as his breath caught.
He took in a few silent, sharp gasps, then pitched forward again. His nose,
buried in the handkerchief, muffled the sound. "ehhh-HShhhffff!" His nose was terribly full and runny now, and he
quickly weighed the options concerning blowing. As he coughed and something
pounded in his ears, he decided there was nothing for it and gave a
half-hearted blow. It sounded far worse than he had expected and did little to
abate the runniness or tickles he felt deep within his nose again.
Giles
rubbed both his shoulders now, finding them full of tension and needing a good
rubbing. "So, you were saying?"
Wesley
should have realized he would not be able to have to question dropped so
easily. And, as he tried to answer, he thought of Cordy's words earlier, the
ones about how he seemed to have no life and would spend the night with his
books. "As I've only just recently settled here, I don't have any friends
outside of work yet," Wesley started to explain. He left out the bit about not
looking for any such friends. "I do not do much of anything apart from work.
And I had hoped this weekend and your visit would be different."
"There is
no reason it cannot be," Giles said, sounding much more upbeat than Wesley had.
Wesley blew
his nose again in answer. "I'm ill now," he said. "Won't be able to do anything
special with you, unless there's a position for an expert in lying in bed
sniffling." Giles pulled him close again. And though Wesley was still, he did
not object. "I cannot show you a good time." Giles tilted his head, moving
close to kiss Wesley. Wesley turned his head away. "And you shouldn't kiss me
or you might get sick." He cleared his throat. "You should probably go, in
fact. No use in staying and risking your health on my account."
"I'm not
going anywhere," Giles said kindly, petting the back of Wesley's head. "What is
the worst that can happen if I stay? I could catch this cold of yours and spend
the next week with a sniffle in my nose. A cold is hardly life-threatening and
Buffy will not mind if I'm a little sniffly."
Curious and
slightly suspicious at that, Wesley raised an eyebrow. Giles shrugged rather
innocently, bluntly. Wesley cleared his through. "Still, I am terribly sorry
about this. I shan't make a very good companion." Perhaps from his emotional
distress, his voice cracked and he forced a few coughs to clear it again.
Giles shook
his head. "I shall enjoy your company just the same. The only difference is a
few extra sneezes which only means I will have to give you some extra care.
Starting with that fourth cup of tea and then progressing to some warm
snuggling."
Wesley
smiled weakly in appreciation as Giles' arms wrapped around him and squeezed
comfortingly. He felt himself practically melt into the other man and he sighed
deeply with a smile. Wesley allowed himself to be moved over to the bedroom. He
stripped down while Giles put out a change of pajamas. And by the time Wesley
had crawled beneath the covers, Giles was right beside him with a fresh hanky
and a steaming cup of herbal tea.
Quite
thankful that Giles had not fled and rather relieved that Giles had such a warm
bedside manner, Wesley let the man snuggle and cuddle him close, and even wipe
his nose when it ran. Somehow Giles seemed to know when it was running and somehow
Giles was able to rub it so gently without hurting. And when he needed to
sneeze and his body tensed up, Giles only hugged him more tightly.
When Giles
got up to return the empty teacup to the kitchen, he returned with one of the
books from Wesley's briefcase. He slid beneath the covers and resumed his
cuddling of Wesley. He turned the book and regarded the spine. "I've never actually
seen a copy of this volume. Wherever did you locate it?"
Wesley
smiled at the memory of that particular acquisition. "We were turned onto a
nest of Ingta'ar demons. Sniff! When
we... when... arrived..." Wesley shook his head, unable to continue for the tickle in
the back of his nose. Giles pressed the handkerchief into his hand and Wesley
held it just in front of his face. He breathed into it heavily as the tickle
settled in the tip of his nose and a strong urge struck in the back. "hehhhh... hahh... hahh-ISchhhhhhh! heh-ihh-hum-yeh-YEhtchhhhh!"
He breathed out deeply, then in just as deeply, before blowing his nose.
"When you
arrived?" Sounding interested, Giles kindly reminded him of the place he had
left off.
Grateful,
Wesley resumed. "Yes, when we arrived we found the place swarming with demonic
priests. They put up quite a fight but of course we defeated them. And it turns
out they had a number of very interesting texts in their possession." He
cleared his voice, which was starting to sound a bit scratchy again. "Earlier
tonight I was trying to make my way through the translations on the bottom of
page thirty."
Giles
flipped to the spot at once and ran a finger along the margin beside the
passage. "Hmm." He nodded and read a bit of it out loud. Then, slowly and
carefully, he translated what he could. Wesley interjected with a word now and
again, but mostly he just lay there in Giles' arms and listened to the man's
voice. He was slightly amused that even with a visiting lover and a nasty head
cold, he was still spending the night as Cordelia had predicted- going through
old books.