Christmas Surprise
Yeah, I'm here again.
I know they told me to fuck off as soon as possible and I should have been glad to get the hell away and out of LA, but I only made it to the next Motel, before I stopped and decided to stay and look how things have developed.
Some people would say, it's because of a guy. No, surely not Angel, what are you thinking? Please! Of course, there's nothing wrong with him (beside the obvious fact that he's a brooding, unfriendly bastard) but there are some things about him, that just aren't right.
His shoulders are too broad.
His hair too dark.
His soul a bit too loosely attached.
And he is way too Irish and not British enough.
I sigh and look around the bar. I'm sitting in the darkest corner of the 'Caritas' and complain about brooding-types? Yeah, right!
I'm pathetic.
Maybe because I'm me.
Maybe because I've got a crush on Angels right hand.
And although no one beside me knows, that I have the hots for Wesley ever since I first met him, I'm terrified that they will connect my 'still being here' with my 'want to fuck the boy senseless' and that their connection will lead to 'my limp body lying in a dark alley where no one will hear my screams as Angel(us?) tears my throat out'.
Maybe (it's) that's why I hide in the shadows. Or maybe because it's Christmas time and I'm the only one who's alone here tonight.
And I'll throw up if I only hear one more carol or see another Santa-hat on a green- or blue-faced demon.
I used to sing here, but I don't think, going up on stage would be a good way to stay incognito, so I'll just order another beer and listen to those idiots on stage, ruining one classic after another.
Oh great, now I have to break my promise, cause I'm not planning on puking over my own table, but I can clearly hear the intro of 'Jingle Bells'.
I turn around to see the moron who dares making me admit, that beneath all the pitifulness I am ... still pitiful.
And then I see him.
His skin isn't green, but he wears a hat. Such a hat. A stupid Santa-hat with blinking stars attached to the fuzzy white fur. And telling by the way he's stumbling around on stage he's really drunk . And why is 'Jingle Bells' all of a sudden my favorite song?
I lean back in my chair and watch him. He really should get drunk more often, cause he's sexy, when he is like this, and he surely wouldn't act like this, if he wasn't drunk.
I'm not the only one who notices, how sexy he looks. At the bar a Casso demon is checking him out. Ugly thing. Big, dumb, slimy and with red horns. And the way they are glowing shows, that he's really horny. (not horny horns, but... yeah, you get my point)
I look back at Wesley and I'm glad that I haven't got such horns, cause he has started to strip himself to a silly Christmas song.
Someone should really get him away from here and sober him up.
What? Me? I'm occupied... watching and all that.
When he's finished opening his down-buttoned shirt and starts to unbuckle his belt, I stand up and make a move towards the stage. Gladly the song's over before I'm halfway through the room so I don't have to drag him off the stage. He's already walking down the stairs and towards the door which leads outside.
Should I follow? Well, maybe he needs help with... dressing again?
As I see the Casso demon sneaking out behind him, I settle for following. Cassos are dumb and lame, but Wesley's drunk. I don't think, he can take him. And if I help him, maybe he takes me afterwards?
I mentally slap myself to get the stupid grin out off my face and dangle after them.
As I open the door and step outside into the cold I shiver slightly. Of course my jacket's still draped over the chair... beside the table... inside the club.
Damn!
A muffled scream from around the corner of the club catches my attention and I quickly forget about my jacket, while I hurry towards the dark alley.
The Casso demon hovers over Wesley, who cowers next to the wall, between two trash bins.
"He doesn't look like he likes you, so forget your plans for tonight and fuck off"
Yeah, I'm a harsh, mean and motionless hero... and it would sound much cooler, if I didn't start trembling, as the demon turns around, growling.
Don't let him notice!
"You want a piece of me? Come and get it!"
Great idea, piss him off.
As the demon turns away from Wesley, who's grinning like the drunken madman he is, I grab the dagger I always have in my trousers.
It's not very likely, that I lose them while something dangerous is around. Well and if I do, I might at least die happy. Going out with a blow, as I always wanted. Maybe even with a blow-job.
I'm a bit distracted by the thought, so I don't really catch on when the demon approaches me. Well, not until he leaves three deep cuts on my upper arm , with one strike of his claw.
I hiss and watch the blood float down my arm, soaking into my shirt and my sweater.
I circle the demon who sniffs happily.
Seems like he likes blood, makes him all tingly. I run my hand over the cuts and catch some of the blood.
I slowly wave my hand in his direction and I hear the rumpling coming from his stomach. He definitely likes it. His body tenses and I tighten my grip around the dagger, as I spout some blood-drops at the demon.
He howls and jumps towards me. I duck, turn around and stab him with the dagger deep in his side, where his kidney should be... if he has kidneys.
He winces, howls and screams.
I pull the dagger out and lean forward, to push it into the flesh again, but he already runs away, whimpering.
I don't plan on following him.
I'm not one of the good guys. I don't care what the demon's going to eat next. Or fuck.
And he didn't seem like he would live much longer, anyway. I think I got him.
Maybe he gets eaten by another demon, who cares? I'm a knight in golden armor and I just scared a demon away, while saving the helpless victim.
Maybe I'm going to get laid tonight, anyway.
I turn around and smile at my helpless victim (erm... the victim of the demon, of course) to see, what he has to say about this scene.
Apparently not much, because he passed out somewhere between me coming, me fighting and me saving his ass.
Damn!
I go over, pull him up and try to carry him to my car, which is parked outside the bar, thank God.
It ends up more in dragging and pushing, but I finally manage to get him into the backseat. I slip into the driver seat and start the car.
No, I don't plan on kidnapping him, but I can't let him die in a fucking back alley, can I?
I drive over the speed limit and I know it, but I really want to lay him down on a couch, put some blankets over him and get him back conscious as fast as possible. Being passed out for too long can't be good.
I pull into the gateway of the motel and with another effort of pulling and struggling I manage to get him inside and onto the couch. He's still unconscious.
I drop some blankets over him, tug them in around him and shake his shoulders a bit.
He reacts by mumbling and shifts a little bit. At least, he's not gonna die.
But maybe he'll kill me, when he's done sleeping through his hangover.
I consider the option and shrug.
If I'm going to die, I might as well die without bloodstains on my shirt.
I walk into the bedroom, which is only a few feet away. I couldn't afford the money for a bigger room and I don't really need it anyway.
While I change my shirt I hear Wesley moan, and it seems, like he's trying to get up. I walk into the small living room. At least I can stand there, brave, and wait for him, trying to kill me.
He glances around until he focuses on me.
"Lindsey?"
I wait, stare at him, daring him to make the first move. And he does. He falls back onto the couch with a sigh, and a few seconds later with another moan, while he holds his head. Obviously he hasn't overcome his hangover yet.
"What am I doing here?"
"Sleeping?"
He peers one eye open and looks at me. I start to fidget and step from one foot to the other. Wesley closes his eyes again, and leans back.
"Do you want some water? Maybe it'll help..."
He muffles something, and I take it as a 'yes', so I can disappear into the bathroom.
I run into the small desk next to the bathroom door and nearly throw the advent wreath down, which's lying on top of it.
Yeah, I said I'm pathetic. I actually decorated the room a bit. It's Christmas and I like Christmas and... the room doesn't seem that empty this way.
When I come back with the water, Wesley's already sat up and looking around the room, nervously.
"Here."
He takes the glass, and gives me a shy smile, which turns my insides into goo.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. It's just from the sink, but I got nothing else."
"Nah, didn't mean that." He looks around, nervously, and I wait for him to continue. "Thanks for saving my ass out there."
I blink.
"I thought you were unconscious..." I say, insecure.
"Yeah, I think I passed out for some time , but I saw, that you attacked the Casso." He smiles at me, this time for real, then he frowns.
"You left..."
"I left what?"
"Us... LA...why did you leave?"
"Angel told me to."
He frowns again. "And why didn't you leave?"
"I had.. things to do." I stare at the floor, avoiding his questioning eyes.
"Things.... Right." He laughs shyly and I look back at him.
I think, I'm blushing, but I can't really tell, cause I'm caught in his eyes and his smile, and... he stands up... and comes over to me... and I still can't do nothing else than stare at him.
"So... what's the Christmas decoration for?"
"Erm... it's Christmas?"
"Did you plan a party or something? Is someone coming over later?"
"No..." I say, warily.
He steps further into my personal space, and I want to back away, but I'm already with my back against the wall, so I just wait. He smiles again, and glances up over my head. I follow his gaze and see the mistletoe I attached over the doorframe next to us.
"Well, then maybe you want me to stay?"
He smiles again, leans forwards and kisses me, softly.
Maybe this year Christmas isn't going to be that bad after all.