*****

"And did you *see* how it ran once we cut off its third head?" Gunn threw out his fist for a slap.

Wesley pulled the flask away from his mouth in order to oblige and handed it to Gunn. "Like a bitch running to its momma!" Wesley intoned in his best "Gunn", but complete with proper British accent.

Gunn spit out his mouthful of whatever it was Wesley carried around in his flask to laugh. He slapped Wesley on the back. "Wes! Man! We *must* hit up a bar right about now!" He brought his hand to his side, trying to quell the ache in his side the laughter had brought on. "We need lots more drink and some stripers!" He took another healthy draw on the flask. He looked at Wesley and blinked. "Where ya wanna go, English? Your call, tonight." He leaned his shoulder heavily against Wesley's and handed him the flask.

Wesley grinned at him and took a draw. "We could always go see what Cordelia is up to this fine evening."

The two men dissolved into giggles.

Gunn held up a hand. "Cordy, honey, we killed the big, bad, bad-thing you saw, and now we want a lap dance! Dance for us, sugar?"

"No! That's not it!" Wesley stood up straight and cleared his throat. "Cordeila? Sweetheart? Gunn and I have battled a four-headed thing and wish to relax. We'd be *ever* so grateful if you would serve us drinks while clad in something extremely scanty, and or, *see* through."

More giggles.

"And then she'd get one of my axes and remove our heads." Gunn offered.

Wesley grabs Gunn by the neck and squeezes. "No. It could be *worse*!"

Gunn does his best to focus on his buddy. "How?" Gunn blinks at him. What *is* in the flask he wonders, trying to focus.

Wesley steps in front of Gunn and narrows his eyes. He does his best to look serious. "She might actually *strip* for us."

Gunn's eyes go cross-eyed for a brief moment. And then he laughs. "She'd *never* do that, Wes!"

"But we can't be *sure*, can we? Best we hit up the strip clubs, my boy."

Gunn smiles and leans down so that his forehead rests against Wesley's. "Yep. 'An I know just the club for us!" Gunn brings his hands up to rest on Wesley's hips. He smiles again and leans just a bit closer. . .

"Murdering scum!"

Wesley and Gunn both blink. Huh? They keep they're heads together and turn to look down the alley.

Only *two* heads, but they both seem to be breathing fire. The flames reach almost half way down the alley.

"Fuck!"

"Sod it!"

They blink at each other. Gunn smiles and steps back. He makes a sweeping motion with his arm. "Go for it, English. Kill it. I have a headache, dog."

"No, no. I couldn't. I'm still a bit tender from the last battle. Buy all means, this kill is yours."

Gunn backs up and cocks his head. "*Tender*? Tender from *what*? *I* made the last kill!"

"*Kill*? You may have made the last *distraction*, yes, but *I* made the last kill."

Gunn pulls at his shirt and holds it out, ignoring the heat from the snarled flames coming close to them. "Oh, yeah? And what is this?"

Wesley squints and looks more closely at the sticky green stain on Gunn's shirt. "Don't really know, what with the way you *eat* sometimes. Drool? From your frightened jabbering when I was doing away with the other multi-headed beast?"

"It's *slime*! Slime from the last *head* I took off!"

"No." Wesley holds up a hand to cut off Gunn's heated reply. "Slime, perhaps, but if so, it is most assuredly from the head *I* took off!"

"You are *drunk* Wesley! Drunk and ya can't remember your own fucking name!"

Wesley stands tall. "My *name* is Wesley Why-and *duck*"

Gunn ducks and Wesley stabs out with his sword and Gunn comes up swinging his ax. Gunn even stomps on a four clawed foot with his boot while swinging his ax at a four clawed paw swiping at his and Wesley's heads. The claw comes flying off. Wes pulls back and brings his sword swiping down once again and the head comes off. Gunn rises, his ax swinging, and the other head comes off, rolling until it rests against the wall opposite the two. It glares at them, tongue lolling out, before vanishing into thin air.

They stand together, breathing heavily, covered with even more slime. Their heads come back together, sweaty foreheads resting against each other's as they try and catch their breaths.

"Good thing," Gunn pants.

"That I was here for. . " Wesley pants.

"You!" They both finish.

Their arms go around each other and they work up enough energy to pat each other on the backs before just resting against each other. Just embracing. They'll pull apart soon enough.

And go to a strip club to wind down.

End.