Author:
Beta: dramaturgca.
Pairing: Buffy/Gunn.
Setting: Post-"Not Fade Away."
Rating: G.
"Hey, English, heard you were in need of some cheering up." Gunn brings his cafeteria tray inside the hospital room where Wesley's currently sitting up and watching some program made for horribly uptight English dudes by other horribly uptight English dudes. "I brought company. If that's alright."
"Of course." Wesley smiles as he sees Buffy following Gunn inside the room. Glad that they'd all finally mended their fences, but also glad to see Gunn in love again.
Buffy carries in two identical trays. "Hope you don't mind, but we took the liberty of grabbing you some food." Her sunglasses are perched on top of her head, looking as if they were born to be there and reminding everyone that she is indeed a Californian.
"Really, Wes, if I have to listen to Angel bitch for one more day about you not eating enough, I might have to steal his car." Setting down his tray, Gunn arranges the seating to accommodate both the food and them. Wesley's injuries were some of the worst; apparently, Lilah, of all people, well, dead people, realized that Wesley wasn't dead and brought him to the hospital. Some sort of Wolfram & Hart get out of hell free to save your ex-lover card. Gunn didn't ask, and Wesley hadn't offered.
"We might have to do that anyway," Buffy mumbles, sitting herself down on one of the chairs after putting Wesley's food in front of him.
"Is there something wrong with my truck?"
"She's charming, but…" Trying to smile at him, Buffy fidgets in her seat. Insulting her boyfriend's truck really wasn't the way to get the evening started. She can feel his glare.
"Really, Charles, we all know that Angel's Viper is top of the line and can beat any vehicle either of us have owned. There's no use in being overly sensitive about your truck." Picking up his fork, Wesley gives a poke to the mashed potatoes. "Once upon a time, I thought no one could ruin mashed potatoes."
"They're instanta whip potatoes with cheese," Buffy offers before shoving a mouthful of potatoes into her mouth.
"Exactly." Gunn fiddles with the top of his milk carton, trying to open it as the paper splits unevenly. He considers stabbing it with his pocket knife. "Nothing but the best for my girl. And you too, Wes."
Wesley clears his throat. "Thank you." He plays with the glob of spinach on his tray, knowing better than to try it. It looks worse than the stuff his mother's cook used to can. "Have you talked to Angel about retaining clients for Angel Investigations? I know he's reluctant to start another agency, worrying about endangering clients with the Senior Partners' wrath, but I don't think spending all that idle time with Spike is doing him any good."
Gunn shakes his head. Even from the hospital, Wesley wants to start the business again, to get Angel back on track. No one mentions that without Cordelia there aren't visions; and without visions there's no mission. "It's always business with you, Wes. Why don't we talk about something else? Like what you did with your day."
"Caught up on entire run of Three's Company, stared at the wallpaper. Oh, there was an Alzheimer's patient who thought that my room was his schoolyard."
"Must've been tough. Can't say I'd know what do besides call a nurse." Gunn bit into his chicken.
"I hope it was the episodes with real Chrissy, because the ones with her cousin suck," Buffy tries to interject into their conversation. She's still learning the ropes. "Gunn and I went to the zoo today. All sorts of weird jellyfish and funny looking penguins. Apparently, some of them were gay; penguins and alternative lifestyles, who knew. Do you know that Gunn's scared of monkeys?"
"Am not."
She gives Gunn's shoulder a light push. "Yeah, right. This big macho man hid behind me the whole time."
Wesley starts laughing, imagining the scene Gunn crouching behind the petite blonde. Granted she did have extraordinary strength, but their height difference alone... "Really? Monkeys? They are our closest evolutionary cousins. Certainly nothing to be afraid of. It's not like they're poisonous or you weren't with a Slayer."
Gunn held up his hands in defense. "They're creepy, okay. And I don't want to be told how I might, according to some crackpot scientist's work, be related to them. Because I'd rather be a great-great grandkid of a Fyarl demon."
"Then you'd have paralyzing snot." Lifting up her juice carton, Buffy drinks the majority of it.
"Frankly, I prefer the opposable thumb." Wesley smirks, while cutting his chicken. He's glad for their company.
Buffy laughs. "And here I thought you didn't have a sense of humor, Wes."
"Oh, English here, he's a riot," Gunn assures Buffy. "Just hearing him trying to make sense out of Pokemon's language after Spike loaned him the video game… Wow."
And once again, Wesley feels old and bookish compared to Buffy and Gunn. Even with the knowledge put inside his brain, Gunn maintains his connections, his friends, doesn't become the awkward boy making jokes in Latin. He misses Fred or Angel, or even Lilah.
"You're telling me that Spike let go of a video game? Spike? Same Spike I know with the bleached blonde hair and leather duster?" Putting a forkful of spinach into her mouth, Buffy's face goes sour, and she reaches for her napkin, spitting it out. "Gross."
"Could've told you that." Gunn gestures to Wesley. "Even English had the sense not to try it."
"Just because it's green and slimy doesn't mean it should taste that way. Giles makes a pretty mean spinach quiche."
Gunn shakes his head. "Because you put everything green and slimy in your mouth?" He looks over at Wesley who's been too silent. "Stop with the brooding, Wes. If we wanted you to do that, we would've brought Angel."
"Exactly. This is a no brooding zone." Buffy unwraps her desert. "Score. Chocolate pudding. I dig this with a spoon."
"I that dig with a double spoon spoon." Reaching over with his spoon, Gunn steals some of the pudding from Buffy's container.
"Hey," she protests, "pudding stealer, you have your own. Boyfriend privileges don't extend to chocolate. And that was incredibly lame."
"I have to agree with Buffy, Charles. It's never polite to steal a lady's chocolate pudding." Wesley opens his own miniature cup, also finding chocolate. "Even if you did get tapioca."