Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project
Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project

Five Things That Never Happened To Gunn And Wesley
By Charles
For Mosca

1.) Secret agent man?

"Wyndham-Price. Wesley Wyndham-Price." He swivels and poses and tries to look suave. Instead he stumbles and smacks his leg against his desk.

Charles, walking in, hides his laughter in a fit of coughing.

Wesley straightens up and does his best to appear dignified as he sits back at his desk. "Yes, Charles?"

"Is A ready to see me or what? I'm tired of waiting."

"Oh yes, go right in."

Charles pauses at the door to A's chambers. "Mr. Wyndham-Price?"

"Hmm, Charles?" Wesley looks up from his computer screen.

"Leave the secret agent work to the professionals," Charles tells him with a wink.

Wesley reddens and returns to his typing. If only secret agent Gunn would take more than a polite interest in him.

 

2.) Wrong turn.

Wesley pulls off his helmet and sets it on the seat of the motorcycle. The neighborhood he's found himself in looks decidedly unpleasant. He leans over and rummages in his saddlebag for the map. The streets of Los Angeles were quite confusing. He traces his route with a finger and eventually realizes that someone or something is watching him.

Acting as if he hasn't noticed anything, Wesley looks around. From the corner of his eye, he spots the glint of metal weapons in the darkness. He takes his time folding the map and returning it to the bag. Wesley then gets off of the motorcycle and acts as if he's stretching.

One of the people watching takes that as a signal and steps out of the shadows. "Hey." Wesley looks over at the speaker. "I'd move on if I were you. This neighborhood isn't exactly safe, if you know what I mean."

Wesley nods curtly, trying not to show how impressed he is with the handsome street youth standing there. "I just stopped to check my map. I've gotten a bit lost, but I believe I'll be on my way now."

"Yeah. Good idea," the speaker nods.

Wesley straddles the motorcycle and puts his helmet on. He watches with interest as someone runs up to the speaker.

"Gunn! Vampires! Over on Palamo and Third!"

Wesley is surprised at the mention of vampires and removes his helmet again. Perhaps he won't be leaving so soon after all.

 

3.) White boy can't dance.

"Mmmmmm, that's right," Gunn said as he watched Wesley remove his clothes. "Do the dance of who's your daddy!"

"GunnŠ"

Gunn smirked. "You know it's true, English."

"That may be the case. However, I will not do any sort of dance to comemmorate this fact. No matter what Lorne told you about thoseŠ dances."

"But the way you move those hips. C'mon, dance for me a little?"

Wesley sighed in an exasperated manner. "Fine." He proceeded to dance in a jerky, spasmodic fashion. Wesley gave up when he saw Gunn laughing.

"You know what?" Gunn said. "You can just tell me I'm your daddy. Because I don't ever want to see you dance like that again."

 

4.) So this is Christmas.

Gunn looks down at the package in his hands. "You're kidding, right? I mean, I thought crackers were things you ate. Or what some of my old crew called white folks like you. Not these things."

"They've been a traditional Christmas gift in England for years."

Gunn raises an eyebrow as he studies Wesley's face for any signs of lying. Damn. He's serious.

"Go on, open one," Wesley encourages.

Gunn tears open the wrapper and picks a cracker from the box at random. "I just pull them apart, right?"

"Exactly," Wesley says with a nod.

Gunn sets the box down and holds the cracker with both hands. Then he pulls. There's a loud "Pop!" Gunn eyes the pink and purple feathery, shinyŠ thing that was inside the cracker.

Wesley clears his throat.

"Yes?"

"There'sŠ another tradition."

Gunn looks at the jewelry and then at Wesley. "Thanks for the gift, man. But there is no way in hell I'm wearing something like that."

Wesley tries to hide his disappointment as he watches Gunn walk away, presumably to share the crackers with people who will actually wear the jewelry inside. He'll just have to come up with another British "tradition"Š

 

5.) Wesley, not Fred, is exposed to the Illyria gas.

It's not fair, Gunn thinks. He knows he should have given up the whole concept of "fairness" a long time ago, but when something like this happens, he can't help it.

So he sits there, with Wesley, knowing that these are his final hours. Gunn had left the room while the rest of the crew said their goodbyes. Wesley then asked for Gunn to be there, with him during what amounted to the end of Wesley's life.

Gunn holds Wesley's hand, all pretense gone now, and they talk. They talk about what they've done together, the places they've gone. Gunn cracks a smile when Wesley tells him of life in Sunnydale. It's hard for him to think of Wesley as someone who was incompetent and clumsy. There's no discussion of the future, because it hurts both of them to think of a time when Wesley will be gone. Replaced byŠ something else.

Eventually they run out of topics. So they sit there, quietly, waiting for the end to come.

When it does, Gunn squeezes Wesley's hand tight and says, "I love you, man."

Gunn watches as Wesley closes his eyes and breathes his last. Gunn leans over and kisses his forehead. "I'm sorry," Gunn says.

He steps back and leaves the room. He doesn't want to be there when it happens. Outside the room, Gunn shrugs off attempts at comfort from the others and walks away.