*****

"Look, I called it!" How on earth anybody could possibly argue with that, Gunn had no idea, but Angel was still standing there with his arms crossed, face turned not towards Gunn, but towards Wes.

"Wes?" Angel asked, as cutely as a guy his size should *not* be able to do, and even if Gunn hadn't called it, that would've been cheating, as far as he was concerned.

Wes sat on the edge of one of the chairs in the office, and looked at both of them like they were the biggest dorks this side of the Mississippi. "You two can't decide between yourselves, like intelligent adults?"

"Look you who're talking to," Gunn reminded him -- meaning *Angel*, but Wesley smirked at them both. Gunn rolled his eyes, and told himself he was not going to stoop to fighting on the playground level.

Unless he had to.

Because, damn it, *he* had called it first.

Gunn gave Angel a dirty look, which Angel sorta returned, and Gunn was tempted to stick his tongue out and challenge him to a duel on the basketball court they'd put up in the parking garage. Neither Angel nor Wesley ever really shot hoops with him, of course -- usually he played against Xander -- which was why it would be a shoe in. Knowing Angel, though, he'd counter with some equally unfair arena, and they'd be right back where they started -- Angel trying to cheat and Wesley not helping by calling him on it.

"It's not that we can't decide," Gunn began. "*I* can decide. I called it, so I get to take you out first. Pretty simple. And *he* can decide. Problem is, *he* seems to have decided something else." Gunn wondered if he hit those 'he's' hard enough, and with enough sarcasm. Maybe he should start over and try again. "*He's* decided that him having bought tickets which it's not like he can't trade in for another day so don't be *giving* me that look Angel, tops me having called it."

Wes, who'd come in halfway through the argument, glanced at Angel with interest. "You bought tickets? For what?"

Angel jumped, a little, towards Wesley, hand going to his pocket to pull the tickets out. "La Cosi Fan Tuti. Box seats," he added with that little pleased-with-himself grin Gunn *normally* liked.

Wes took the tickets and glanced at them. Gunn gave Angel another dirty look. "I asked first," he said again, though he sounded more sullen than he figured he had to. "Aren't you one of the good guys? Don't you have a code of conduct or something that says 'thou shalt not cheat'?"

Angel looked slightly bewildered. "You had all day to get tickets or reservations or something. Not *my* fault I got mine first."

"All day?" Gunn repeated. "You mean, the reason you jumped outta bed where Wes and me were left snuggling for another hour or so, was so you could get tickets?" So there, anyway. Who'd got himself extra Wes-loving? Gunn shook his head. Damn, if he didn't sound like Spike. Someone needed to throw those two out and tell them to buy their own hotel.

Angel gave him the smuggest look he'd ever seen on a man not receiving a blowjob. "Ever hear of delayed gratification?"

Gunn privately kicked himself in the head for not remembering that this was a guy who'd waited a couple hundred years, some of 'em in Hell, between sexual encounters. Of course he could give up an hour or so of cuddle-time to sneak out and arrange for something that would get him more than an hour of quality Wes-ness tonight, if he won. Which he wasn't going to do. Because dammit, Gunn had *called* it. Did no one respect this?

"Wes, are you gonna take Cosi Fan Tuti-Frutti over what I've got planned? Really?"

"What have you got planned?" Wesley asked, and Gunn *should* have known he would, and should have thought of an answer before he'd opened his mouth.

"Something where folks don't talk in Italian, for one thing," he rattled off while he tried frantically to think. Dinner? Movie? Hot tub? Everything seemed rather usual. He needed something...*fun*.

Wesley was raising one eyebrow at him, which made him look like he should have been wearing a British military uniform complete with pith helmet, facing the uncouth natives' crude attempts at doing something civilised. "How do you know La Cosi Fan Tuti is sung in Italian?" he asked.

Gunn heard Angel laugh, and sing-song under his breath, "Ha, ha."

Gunn glared at him. "It was a *guess*, all right? Most operas are Italian or German or English, and that title wasn't...what?"

"How many operas have you been to, Gunn?" Angel asked.

"So shoot me for being a gay man," Gunn retorted. "It's in the handbook."

"I thought you were, technically speaking, bisexual," Wesley remarked, calmly.

"So I only have to see two operas a year to maintain my membership." Gunn shrugged.

Angel started to laugh, then looked at him suspiciously. "You never said you were interested in opera."

Gunn was about to say, "You never asked," but realized he'd get called for lying. Angel had offered to take them all to the opera any number of times, but after that weird-ass experience with the haunted ballet, Gunn had shied away from going anywhere fancy in a big group, just in case they all got forced to reenact "Oklahoma" or something. "Maybe I like to have some things that are just for me," he said. Then almost kicked himself *physically* in the head, when he heard how girly it sounded.

Good thing Angel didn't believe him. "He's not interested in opera, Wes! He just studied up on it because he knows you like it!"

Wesley looked at Angel quizzically. "And this is supposed to be a bad thing?"

Gunn folded his arms, to stop them from spontaneously making the *cha-ching* sign.

"Besides," Wes pointed pointed out. "He knows you like opera as well. He might've been trying to impress us both."

Gunn gave Angel a 'nyah nyah' look, which Angel met with an unconvincing expression of unconcern.

"So if it hasn't to do with Italian," Wesley asked, "what have you planned?"

"Dinner and a movie," slipped out, before Gunn could remind himself that sounded absolutely lame. Until -- "Figured we could go to the Frog and Firkin."

Wesley smiled, but it was a half-sad one. "Actually, I find I'm not as homesick for English cooking as I often am."

Gunn felt like kicking himself *again* -- and noticed the totally unnecessary dirty look Angel sent his way. "We could go to Aunty Fanny's, instead," he offered quickly, naming a place *he* liked, and could never convince Wesley was a real restaurant. It looked like the front of somebody's home had been cleared out and filled with tables, and Aunty Fanny herself cooked in the kitchen for whoever showed up. But she had menus, even if they were dry erase slates that changed whenever Fanny went shopping, so Gunn figured that meant it was a real restaurant.

Wesley looked bemused. Gunn tried to decide if it was because Wes had never once managed to say the woman's name without stuttering, or because he really liked Angel's option better, but didn't know how to turn Gunn down politely.

"I have reservations at Maison Jacques," Angel said, as if he was just mentioning it in passing, to no one in particular.

"I thought they closed that place last week? Health code violations?" Gunn replied smoothly.

They had, too. After Gunn had phoned in an anonymous tip about the frogs legs not really being *frog* legs. Dwartalf legs, was what he'd heard from the Host, who'd looked greener than usual when he mentioned it. Gunn had felt it was only his civic duty to let the authorities know. It had nothing to do with the fact that he knew it was Angel's favorite "Impress 'em with my culture and refinement" restaurant.

But Angel was looking smug. "They re-opened yesterday."

"Yeah? Clean bill of health in one week? Sure they didn't bribe nobody?"

"Gunn, I'm shocked." Angel even looked shocked. But mostly he still looked smug.

Gunn wondered if he had anything to lose by hitting Angel over the head so Wes *couldn't* go out with him. At least until Angel woke up, which, being a vampire would probably be two seconds before Gunn high-tailed it out of the room. Not that he was too worried about what Angel would do -- but if Wesley thought *he* wasn't playing fair, then Gunn would be twice out of luck.

Although how it was fair that Gunn had *called* it, and was still having to fight for it, was beyond him. Gunn decided the best course was to ignore Angel entirely, and concentrate on appealing to Wes. Which was, after all, the point.

"I was thinking we could have dinner first, then go up to the Hollywood Hills, after the flick," he said, speaking as if Wes had already agreed to go out with *him* tonight. "You know that little park, up near the sign? Thought we'd grab us a bottle of wine and maybe some dessert, and sit up there a while." Gunn knew he was going to hell for his next line, but figured it was only fair, since Angel was cheating just as bad, "It's a great place to watch the sunrise."

Wesley suddenly stifled a smile. Gunn had to stifle another cha-ching. Angel, however, didn't seem to be successfully stifling anything. He was frowning, like the big pouty baby that he was. "That's not fair."

Gunn looked surprised. "What's not fair? Nobody's stopping you from taking Wesley someplace that only an old, broody vampire can take a guy. Um. Like Raceda?"

Angel folded his arms and gave Gunn a very stern look, and Gunn knew *someone* wasn't going to get invited to share the hot tub for at least a week. Which, god help him, they were acting like Spike and Xander again.

"I could bite him," Angel snapped. Gunn glanced over and saw Wesley's eyes lose focus. Damn, damn, damn.

"That's a date? You could fuck him over the desk right now, too, and just skip the foreplay altogether." Gunn watched as Wesley went from unfocused to glazed, and considered slamming his own head in the desk drawer several times. "I thought the deal was, you wanted each of us to spend *time* with you. Without distracting you with sex," Gunn pointed out. "Except, you know, if sex happens to happen," he hastened to add.

"You're insinuating that I'm an easy lay, Charles?" Wes asked, a bit of clarity returning to his expression, along with a dangerously innocent look.

"I was assuming we'd work up to it nice and slow," Gunn said quickly, as smoothly as he could. He congratulated himself for sounding like he wasn't bullshitting anyone. "And *eventually* there would be sex on the desk in your office," he continued, because -- yeah. He could get into that. Into Wes, in the office. Throw him on the desk....

He saw Angel giving him a smirk, and thought about flipping him off. So what if the vampire could tell he was aroused? Maybe it would get *him* aroused, then Gunn could refuse to have sex with him, and Angel could practice some of that 'delayed gratification'.

"As opposed to sex on the desk with Angel, now," Wes clarified, managing to sound kind of academic, like he was just weighing the options now that he'd got over the initial mindless drooling factor.

"No -- Wait a minute. Yeah. As opposed to sex on the desk with Angel, right now. Because that, you can get anytime you look at him. How often can you get movie theatre butter, and a guarantee not to get interrupted by Newt Twins barging in because I'm gonna take you to a movie neither of them would get caught undead at?"

Angel was looking offended at the accusation that he was cheap and easy -- or at least easy -- without actually denying that he was happy to fuck Wes on the desk, any time. Wesley was looking thoughtful, though, and that was bad. When Wes got thoughtful, he tended to out-think both of them until they ended up doing exactly what they'd sworn they wouldn't. Gunn was pretty sure that wasn't part of the new arrangement they were trying to make -- but he wasn't sure he wouldn't just nod and say yes, now is good, to whatever Wesley did suggest. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Gunn really, really wanted Wesley to talk them into letting Gunn be the first to take him out on a date.

"Actually, if they thought you really didn't want them at the theatre, Xander and Spike would go no matter what the movie was," Angel said in a considerate tone.

Gunn wanted to haul him off downstairs and make him do laundry. "Maybe," he said through gritted teeth. "But they're on fish-hatching watch. They might leave their room -- to barge in here -- but they're not leaving the building."

"So they won't bother us at the opera, then," Angel said smoothly. "Cool."

"Or go to the movies," Gunn added, trying not to grit his teeth as he shot a glare at Angel. The glare seemed to bounce right off his thick vampiric skull.

It occurred to Gunn that he *should* have had sex with Angel this morning, and worn him down so he'd have stayed in bed until the middle of the afternoon. Tomorrow, he'd do that. Right *now* he had to somehow distract Angel, or just be so utterly cute and charming that Wes couldn't possibly pick Angel over him.

That shouldn't be too hard. Unless Wes *wanted* the crude, lewd, no culture except for operas, vampire. Well, operas and ballet. And literature. And classic films. Bastard. How fair was it, that he'd had two hundred years to bone up on all the kind of stuff Wes liked, before Gunn was even born?

He turned to Wes, and gave him the cutest look he could dredge up. It wasn't much -- even Cordy had told him he really shouldn't bother trying that sort of thing, what with Wes' own pleading look and Angel's cute 'dork me' look. But it was pretty much all he had left, other than hitting Angel over the head with a frying pan and stuffing him under the desk. Which, actually, might be a good plan, if this didn't work out.

He'd give the cute me look a chance, though, because if he left the room to go get a frying pan, he'd come back to find Angel and Wesley already gone.

Wesley looked him over for a second, then turned to Angel. "Do they sell popcorn at the opera house? It's been a while since I've been."

Angel blinked. "Um, popcorn? I don't think so. They sell wine. And little annoying chocolate candies with foil wrappers that people like to rattle just when Paggliacci's going off into his big number."

"But no popcorn?" Wes said it as if a) he didn't know damn well that they didn't sell popcorn at the LA Metropolitan Opera House and b) it was a crime as bad as having no peanut shells and sawdust on the floor at the Texas Roadhouse Barbecue. Gunn managed not to cheer out loud.

"I could microwave some popcorn, and we could sneak it in..." Angel said quickly.

"*Microwave* popcorn?" Man, if Queen Victoria -- the original, or the sexy vampire one that Spike and Xander brought home pictures of from their honeymoon -- ever got a load of that tone, she'd hand the "We Are Not Amused" championship belt over to Wes in a second.

Angel stopped. "We could stop by the movie theatre and buy some real popcorn."

Gunn was about to point out that they might as well *go* to the movies, if that was the kind of popcorn he wanted. Then he noticed that Angel was doing *his* cute me face. He needed to go get a frying pan.

Except that would leave Wes alone with Angel. "If you're going to the movie theatre *anyway*," he said fast, in that tone that said Angel was being a butt-head, "You might as well be seeing a movie. They're not gonna let you walk in and buy popcorn, and walk out."

Angel turned to him. "They might."

"Won't either."

"They *will*," Angel said in an example of the threatening tone he'd use on the usher who tried to stop him.

Gunn shook his head, and said in a calm tone that completely hid his panic, "Wes, man, you wanna start off your evening watching Angel get into it with some pimply face teenager who's just doing his job?"

"I want popcorn," Wesley replied, like that was supposed to answer the question.

"So--" Angel started.

"I'd also like Sno-Caps and a large soda," Wesley said, turning to Gunn. "I assume you're paying?"

Gunn started. He blinked, then he ran through his head everything Wesley had just said. Yes, that was in fact what he had said. Gunn threw a fist into the air. "Yes! I win! Er, yes, of course I'm paying! I invited you out on this date, didn't I?"

Wesley was sort of half-grinning at him, but Gunn didn't care how amused he was. He'd won! And Angel was pouting.

It was hard for people who didn't know Angel to tell when he was pouting. It looked, to the man on the street, like a guy deep in thought. Lips pressed together. Eyes looking at something just on the other side of some invisible mime-wall that you mere mortals aren't privileged to see. In other words, it looked like he was brooding. But Angel didn't brood. Not in front of Gunn and Wes. Not if he wanted to go the opera -- or anywhere -- with his nails the same color that God made them, and not shell pink or aquamarine. So, he was pouting. Plus his bottom lip was sticking out, just a little.

Gunn just cackled triumphantly.

Angel pouted a little harder, then actually whined, "I don't get it. You like opera. We could have gotten the popcorn."

Wesley gave Angel a look which -- if Wes hadn't already said he was going with Gunn, would have made Gunn worry about who got to go anywhere with him -- and said, "Angel, I adore opera, and you may take me next weekend."

Angel brightened a little, then returned to his pout. "You really would rather see a movie?" His expression lightened fast. "Because I can take you to the movies, too. We could get popcorn and not get into any fights with ushers."

"No, I want you to take me to the opera." He laid a hand on Angel's arm. "Next time. Tonight Gunn is taking me to the movies."

"But--" Angel stopped, pouted some more, then said, "But I'm cuter than he is, and I pout better."

Wesley laughed, and for a second Gunn hated Angel again. He was being charming to *Guunn's* date, darn it. Even though, granted, Wes and Angel were lovers, too, and as together as he and Wes were. But all was fair in love and fighting over Wesley.

"I'm not going to confirm or deny that. It wouldn't be fair to my date."

Gunn was far too mature a guy to stick his tongue out at Angel. Really, he was. Besides, he was trying to look cute, and nobody looks cute with his tongue sticking out. Except maybe Cordelia, who'd get insulted if you told her that because it implied that she didn't look cute all the time.

"Okay, fine," Angel grumped, now that he didn't have to try to look cuter than Gunn. "But just tell me this, so I can do better next time. Why'd you pick him?"

Wesley blinked innocently at them both. "Because he called it!"

To heck with it. Gunn stuck his tongue out.

*****