*****

"How long has it been since anyone used this?" Wesley managed to sound fastidiously squicked, and eager all at the same time.

"For its intended purpose? Probably a couple of decades. It's just been sort of lying here... fallow. Useless. It had a reason for being, once." Angel intoned it as if giving a funeral oration.

Wesley gave him a flat look, then turned a brighter, more cheery one on Gunn. "Do you think it has a reason for being, now, Charles? Or shall we leave it...'fallow'?"

"I think if somebody doesn't get his undead ass outta my way, I'm gonna pick him up and use him as an air mattress. Watcha think-- do vampires float?"

"No. They don't." Angel spoke quickly, backing up a step as Wesley and Gunn gave him considering looks. Luckily, by backing up, he moved out of Gunn's way.

As he stepped into the room, Wesley looked him over. "You were right. Green is a much better color for you."

"Yeah, brings out my inner leprechaun," Gunn answered with a straight face. Angel gave him an 'Excuse me?' look. "What, haven't you ever heard of the black Irish?"

Angel just opened his mouth -- but said nothing. Ahead of them, Wesley turned and continued towards the pool. A company had been in earlier in the week, repairing everything and getting it usable again. Gunn and Angel stood there and watched him.

"You're right," Angel said casually. "The stripes add an...effect."

"Kind of givin' me vertigo, though. I mean, if you follow one all the way around..." Gunn's eyes sort of spun in circles, and he swayed a little in place as he watched Wesley walk over to the diving board.

"Perhaps you shouldn't be staring," Wesley said sternly.

"Isn't that what they're *for*?" Gunn folded his arms. "I mean, please, like that whole ensemble doesn't just scream 'look at me, look at me now' " He blinked, then buried his face in his hands. "Oh, god, help me, man. I'm channeling Cordelia."

Angel reached over and patted his arm. "It's all right. It is, though. Why else would anyone put a stripe...there?" Wesley was still glaring at them, though now his hands were on his hips -- meaning he'd dropped his towel and was facing them, square-on. In nothing but a Speedo.

"As though either of you were wearing *more*," Wesley began.

"Yes, but unlike us, you picked out your *own* swimwear," Angel pointed out.

They watched in fascination as Wesley slowly blushed. Both their jaws dropped as Wesley said, "Actually, I didn't...."

Angel looked at Gunn. "Did you?"

Gunn shook his head, with a suspicious glance at Wesley. "Not unless I've been sleep-shopping. Who's been measurin' you for Speedos, Wes?"

Wesley just wandered back towards the diving board. "Did they say the board was safe to use?"

Gunn stalked forward and grabbed him by the most grabbable spot available-- the back of those Speedos. "You got yourself a personal shopper, Wesley?"

"Do you *mind*?" Wesley protested, as though baring his bum at Gunn and Angel wasn't a regular activity. He pulled himself free of Gunn's grasp and managed to look offended.

"I don't mind," Angel replied, changing the meaning of the phrase with his tone. "Do you mind?" he asked Gunn.

"Only when my mom slapped me upside the head," Gunn answered sincerely. "Seems like I remember somebody saying he *didn't* want to be thrown in the pool, for instance, but, y'know, I don't really mind, do I?"

Wesley backed up a step. "And I *meant* it."

Angel held up a hand as Gunn advanced on him. "Glasses."

After a final panicked plea for mercy met with none, Wesley shrugged and tossed his glasses to Angel. Felt himself lifted in strong arms, which was nice, but only for about two or three seconds, before he was suddenly splashing into over-chlorinated water that was *far* too cold. Wesley shrieked, then was completely immersed in the water. He sank to the bottom...where he waited.

Angel and Gunn looked at each other with amused glances. Then 'ha-ha, isn't Wesley funny' glances. Then 'um, he *is* trying to be funny, right?' glances. And then about three *more* seconds passed, and there were two much bigger splashes.

They got down to the bottom of the pool and found Wesley lying there, motionless. They each grabbed and arm and hauled him upwards. Reaching the surface, they pulled him out onto the slick tile floor with a mighty effort, and Gunn started CPR. Well, he put his lips over Wesley's and blew into his mouth, anyway, which made it awfully hard for Wesley to continue pretending not to breathe. Especially when he sort of accidentally stuck his tongue into Gunn's mouth.

Gunn jerked back, staring wildly at Wesley. "What? What's--" Angel demanded, then stopped and glared as Wesley grinned.

"My heroes," he simpered, and batted his eyelashes.

"That wasn't very fucking funny!" Gunn yelled.

Wesley stared at them without blinking. "Neither was throwing me into the water in the first place."

Angel looked at Gunn. "I thought it was funny. What about you?"

Gunn was still glaring, still pissed off. "Yeah, I thought that part was funny. Throwing a guy in the pool ranks right up there with 'let's make them think I'm dead!"

Wesley sat up calmly. "As if I would go anywhere near a pool with you two, without an underwater breathing spell." He tugged on the red braided cord around his neck. And pointed...pointedly...towards the one around Gunn's.

"Is that what that is?" Angel asked, sounding only a little befuddled.

Gunn looked embarrassed. "Forgot about that." Then his expression changed. "Hey, when you gave me this, you said...."

Wesley grinned. "Like this pool, it does have...certain uses other than its original intent. Why should Angel get to have all the fun?"

"I've been having fun?" Angel asked, sounding a little more befuddled.

"As soon as we get you into the pool, yes, I believe you shall be," Wesley explained patiently.

"Oh." Angel said it with almost no inflection, but his eyes told another story. The story began with 'throw me in the pool'. It really was too good an offer to refuse, so they did. Well, they tried, but a dead man built like a linebacker isn't exactly easy to throw.

They settled for the swami trick: Wesley made vague mystical motions in front of his eyes until they were pointing in opposite directions, and then Gunn simply pushed him backwards into the water with one finger. Wesley suspected Angel had been faking, but as it got him in the water, who cared? He dove in after him, and Gunn made a huge splash as well. A moment later, all three were trying to entangle themselves.

Angel was doing his best to follow one of those stripes all the way around Wesley's Speedos, but he'd apparently gone blind, because he was doing it in Braille. Gunn, meanwhile, was testing out the benefits of that little red cord around his neck. Wesley had his fingers twined in Angel's hair, and was doing terrible things to his now-soaked spikes. Surprisingly, Angel wasn't complaining.

Someone, as well, had his hand on Wesley's back. He couldn't tell who, and frankly, didn't care as long as the hand continued rubbing like that. He would have moaned, had his mouth been free. And why was it, his brain asked himself, they had waited so long to get the hotel pool repaired?

"GERONIMO!!!!"

"GENERAL CUSTER!!!"

SPLASH

SPLASH

A veritable tsunami made its way towards the three of them, and Wesley was quite glad for the red cord around his own neck as the shock-wave broke him away from his lovers. After a moment, two soon-to-be removed heads broke the surface-- one dark, one light.

"Who-hoo! Water's a bit cold, but other than that, I give the pool a 'nine'." Xander hit the water with the side of his hand, sending a spray of water across Spike's face.

Wesley tightened his hand on Angel's arm, to prevent him from killing the two. "Not in the pool," he said calmly. "We don't want to be cleaning it all over again."

"I'm thinking it might be worth it." Gunn started a purposeful Australian crawl in their direction. Spike stuck out his tongue, gave a little wave, and sank quickly to the floor of the pool.

Xander smiled nervously. "Um... itwashisidea...." Then he started backstroking for all he was worth. Which was terribly unfair, Wesley thought, since *his* backstroking had been so rudely interrupted.

"You always say that," Angel said, matter-of-factly, before starting out after Xander. With Gunn submerging to follow Spike -- and wasn't the vampire in for a surprise, there -- Wesley decided to stay where he was, and watch. Xander sped up his strokes for the edge of the pool, and Wesley saw a pale white blur speeding away from a dark one.

In a few seconds, Spike's head bobbed up. "Alright, who turned this one and why didn't you warn me? No bloody fai... blub blub blub..." as Gunn dragged him back down under the surface.

Xander had reached the ladder at the far end of the pool and was rapidly scrambling out. At Spike's words, he turned around and looked accusingly at Angel. "You turned Gunn? Oh, that is *so* not fair! Spike won't turn me until I look old enough to buy booze, which I'm thinking... what, thirty-five? And you're just suckin' em down right and left?"

Angel just sort of floated. Mouth open. Which probably had more to do with Xander's swimsuit than his babbling. Xander looked at Angel, then grinned evilly. Backed up the ladder one more rung, and twisted his hips back and forth.

"Careful, someone might not appreciate your point of view," he taunted. Before Angel could snap out of it, Xander turned and scrambled the rest of the way out of the pool. Wesley tried to decide if he wanted to say something about Angel's staring at the naked young man -- or if he just wanted those two out of the way, so he could get back to his own almost-naked pool games.

Spike saved him the trouble by popping up again, a somewhat mollified Gunn right behind him. Somewhat mollified because Spike was wearing a major pout (but nothing else) and holding the back of his head as if it had just been whapped. Underwater. "S'not fair. Only Xander's allowed to do that!"

Xander came skidding around to the near edge of the pool, glaring at Gunn. "You hit Spike?" His hands were slightly raised, balled into fists.

Gunn just returned the glare. "And the only reason you didn't get whapped is because pretty-boy over there got distracted by your little wrinkled things."

"Oi!" Spike splashed around to face him. "Those're *my* little wrinkled things, mate!" Now Xander was glaring at Spike. "I mean... big wrinkled things... ?"

"The water's cold," Xander said.

Gunn smirked. "It's not *that* cold." With a yell that sounded something like 'cowabunga', Xander leapt towards Gunn. Spike started laughing, then as Xander landed on Gunn and knocked him underwater, leapt upon them, as well.

Angel started swimming towards them, looking put-upon. He shot Wesley a look. "And you wondered why I didn't get the pool fixed before now?"

"I'm wondering why you didn't get Spike fixed a hundred odd years ago. You have to admit, it would have solved a great many of our problems."

"I didn't have a soul back then. I was insane. I thought he was cute."

"You weren't insane, you were a sadistic sociopath, and you let him live because you somehow knew he'd be around to torture us now."

Angel shrugged, pointlessly shook water out of his hair, and then dived into the melee. Wesley sighed, climbed out of the pool, and shook his head. He was tempted to put a freezing spell on the lot of them, and extracted Spike and Xander, himself. Or extract Angel and Gunn, and float them upstairs where they could try again for some privacy.

Or there was the 'turn them into bugs' spell which he kept asking Angel why he couldn't use on those two. Angel hadn't actually ever given him a reason, other than asking "Do you really wanna lose track of them?" Gunn had offered a solution to that one. Wesley had to admit, he liked the idea of a bug-circus. Xander and Spike could do little tricks and wear stupid hats. Unlike now, he realized, when they were trying to get themselves drowned.

Figuratively, at least, in Spike's case. "Angel, you might want to be careful--"

Angel must have caught on at the same time, because Xander came shooting to the surface, inhaling great gasps of air. "That's it, he's evil again, he's trying to drown me!"

"He can't be evil again," Wesley explained patiently, for about the millionth time. "We fixed that little problem years ago." And if they'd only known that all it took was a certain rare talisman, the burning of 'stinky herbs', painting yourself blue, sitting naked in the middle of Rodeo Drive, and chanting the theme to Lamb-Chop's Play-Along, they would have made Angel do it much earlier. All right, technically only the talisman and the stinky herbs were necessary, but what Angel didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"So why's he trying to drown me?" Xander sputtered in between being casually dunked again by said not-evil vampire.

Wesley rolled his eyes. "I can't imagine."

Spike finally wrestled himself somewhat free of Gunn, who was doing a good job of dunking, himself. He started to go after Xander, when he stopped and looked at Wesley. With a grin, he nudged Xander. "Oi! Look, he's wearing them." Wesley felt himself blushing, as all four turned to look where Spike was pointing.

Xander blinked, then said seriously, "He'd have to be. They're attached. Well, at least mine are."

"Not for long," Gunn muttered.

Spike splashed water in Xander's face. "The briefs, dimwit." And he pointed again. Xander followed his finger. And then he followed one of the white stripes. And then his eyes crossed.

"Hey!" Angel growled. He advanced on Xander. "Keep your--" Then he stopped, as if realizing what a stupid thing he was about to say.

Xander just stuck his tongue out. "Why'd you let Spike buy them, then, if you were gonna get defensive about it?" Gunn's and Angel's eyes swung around like the turret on a Sherman tank, and aimed directly at Spike. Wesley, meanwhile, began searching his memory for a personal body-shield spell.

Spike smirked silently, and the turret began to swing in Wesley's direction.

"You let *Spike* buy this for you?" Angel said in a soft, gentle, utterly terrifying tone, and Wesley wondered briefly if Xander wasn't right about him being evil again, after all.

"You're going to deny that you appreciate its effect?" He gave Angel a flat, stern look. As if Angel's eyes weren't even now straying down, and around, and crossing slightly before being yanked back up to glare at Wes' face again.

Truth was, he couldn't explain exactly how he'd come to let Spike buy them for him. Or how he'd actually got around to mentioning it, in the younger vampire's presence. He spared a glare for said vampire, and his cohort, who were taking the opportunity to sneak out of range. Giggling. At least now he knew why Spike had been willing to buy them at all.

"I appreciate the effect," Gunn said slowly. "It's the cause that I've got a problem with. How come you're letting the bleached weenie fit you for swimsuits?"

"Hey!" Xander said from the edge of the pool, where he was sitting, kicking his feet, and watching in amusement. "He's not... wait, what am I saying. Please continue."

Spike, who'd been bobbing in the water near him, pulled Xander in by one foot, and wrestled him into the corner of the pool. "I am *not* a weenie. Say it." Xander crossed his arms and shook his head. "Say it or I'll tickle...."

"You're a weenie!" Xander yelled, and made a leap out of the pool -- getting only a few inches before Spike grabbed him and pulled him in. From the shrieks and threats that followed, Wesley deduced Spike was giving good on his threat. Wesley, however, was more concerned with his own well-being than making sure they didn't injure themselves.

Angel and Gunn were climbing out of the pool, and still advancing on him. He tried to make a stand, but he felt somewhat ridiculous doing so in only a pair of tiny swim briefs.

"I didn't do any such thing as let him *fit* me for them," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. "I merely let him *pay* for them. Because *someone* borrowed my credit card to take to the edged-weapons show, and never returned it." He raised an eyebrow at Gunn.

Wesley's lovers decided to divide their attentions, which was exactly what Wesley had been afraid of. Angel spun around and dove back into the water, cutting across toward Spike like a rather large, brown-haired shark. Gunn continued to glare at Wesley. "Oh, and you couldn't call *someone* and ask him to meet you there and pay for it?"

"That would have rather ruined the surprise, wouldn't it have?" Wesley demanded. Backed up another step, and began rehearsing, mentally, the 'deflect all blows' shield spell he'd remembered.

They heard a high-pitched yelp, and a splash, then a loud, low growl. That was followed by a "What the bloody *hell* is your problem? It wasn't even my cash. When's the last time I had any of my own money?"

Which made Gunn stop. Wesley could see him thinking things through. "*Harris* paid for those?"

"Well, technically Spike did, with Xander's--" He stopped as he realized he wasn't helping himself.

"You let Spike buy you *those* briefs with *that* money?"

"Yelp! Hey, I bought your --eep!-- Christmas presents with *that* money..." Xander shouted between tickles. "And what's so wrong with---giggle-- my job?"

"Yeah!" Spike didn't stop tickling while he defended his lover. "What's more upright and morally unblemished than providin' reasonably-priced pics of naked demons to those desperate folks out there who don't 'ave a cuddly one of their very own?"

Wesley, very wisely, didn't reply. Whenever Rupert called down to inquire how 'his boy' was doing, Wesley stammered something vague and hoped to god the other man didn't know that Xander's one week stint as a copy-boy had turned into something more. Granted, it had been two years, now, but since Rupert never referred to the magazine, Wesley wasn't *about* to be the one to bring it up. In conversation. The topic, that was.

Wesley realized Gunn had gained another foot on his advance. He crossed his arms and frowned, slightly. "If you object to my attempting to acquire a set of swim shorts on my own, to surprise you both, then I do apologize." He sniffed, just a little, and turned his back. Allowing Gunn to be transfixed by the white stripe that ran around the *back*, of course.

"Ummm...." Gunn replied intelligently.

Angel reached Spike, and ducked him neatly, dragging Xander, still giggling, with him. A few seconds later, a sputtering human and two growling vampires resurfaced. Angel turned to stare at Wesley. "Surprise?" He sounded a little guilty. "You.. wanted to surprise us? Oh."

"Yes," Wesley admitted, sounding a touch hurt. A touch dejected. "I didn't think you'd mind who *paid* for the stupid thing." He took a step away from them all, as if heading for the changing rooms. He knew that if anyone were *not* staring at that white stripe, they would be seeing the very picture of masked-wounded pride and rejection.

He didn't hear anyone coming after him, so he continued on to the far door. Maybe they'd catch him while he was naked.... Then his foot was flying out from under him, and he felt a sharp crack in his elbow, then on the back of his head.

Lying flat on the tile gave him an excellent view of the fresco on the ceiling at least. It really had turned out rather well-- the three of them against the splendor of Mount Olympus, Angel feeding him grapes while he reclined on a chaise, Gunn pouring him a cup of nectar, strategically-placed fig leaves for all concerned. Which were, of course, removable via a dial on the far wall. The final stroke of genius had been the addition of a tiny Xandercupid at one end of the scene, and a Spikecupid at the other, each aiming an arrow in the direction of the central trio. But why did the Spikecupid's wings appear to be fluttering?

"Wes? Wes, are you okay?" Angel sounded far too concerned about something, Wesley realized. Perhaps he knew about the fluttering wings in the mural. Then he realized his eyes weren't *open*. So he opened them. Four heads were gathered in the air, above him. Spike was the only one who didn't look worried.

Spike looked bored. And hungry. "Is he dead? Can I eat him?"

Xander whapped him hard on the arm, not at all playfully. "No, he isn't, and no, you may not. You don't eat family, even after they're dead. Which he's not. Wide brown eyes looked back to Wesley. "You're not, are you?"

"No," he said slowly. He could see Angel and Gunn looking reassured. At least, he thought that was how they looked. "Why are there two of everybody?"

"Man," Gunn swore. "Cordelia is *never* going to leave us home without a babysitter *ever* again. First time all week she leaves us alone and we break Wesley."

"He's not broken," Angel snapped, and he moved forward to feel Wes' head.

"OW!"

Angel stopped. "OK, so he's broken...."

"I an brot noken," Wesley answered with great dignity. Something about that didn't sound right, so he decided to try it again. "I am *not* broken."

"Just a little bent," Spike sniggered.

"Oh, like you can talk," Angel muttered, and touched Wesley's head again, more gently. "Wes, can you remember that anti-concussion spell you said you looked up for Spike?"

Xander gave his lover an incredulous stare. "You think you need an anti-concussion spell? There's nothing in there to concuss!"

Spike was about to answer, and Angel put a hand over his mouth. "Wes? Can you remember it?"

Wes opened his mouth to say that yes, he did recall looking it up. Then he stopped and asked, instead, "Mind if I throw up, first?"

*****