Wesley awoke with a start, heart pounding, body flushed. A moan escaped his throat, low and deep, vaguely obscene as his eyes flew open, erasing the image before him. Darkness filled his eyes and he slumped back against his pillow, breathing heavily and damp with sweat.

The night was hot and heavy - the dog days of summer. August in California was unpleasant to anyone used to cooler, less humid climes. He supposed that, had he been from somewhere that experienced humidity worse than this, he would be better equiped to deal with the weather. Since he wasn't, he was very uncomfortable.

Of course, sweat only accounted for part of the dampness.

"Bloody hell!" he swore, kicking the sheet off him. His pajama bottoms were soaked in cum. "Fuck," he began to swear. "Fuck Lindsey, fuck fucking dreams, fuck!"

Annoyed, he slid out of bed, storming to the bathroom. It had been years since he had a wet dream. Well, months, any way. But Angel had thrown himself - naked -on Wesley. Erotic dreams were almost expected.

But this was ridiculous. Since he had stopped taking Lindsey's calls, nearly two weeks now, every night he had had a dream.

In the bathroom, Wesley pulled the pants off so he was naked and picked up a wet cloth.

The ridiculous thing was that he hardly remembered what Lindsey looked like. There was only a vague mental impression that he treasured - or had treasured, at any rate. The Lindsey of his memory was beautiful and seductive: creamy skin, bright blue eyes staring out of a handsome face, the wavy hair, soft full lips.

Wesley closed his eyes, picturing Lindsey before him. His shirt was off and in the light, he glowed likesome type of god. The lips were draw into a knowing smirk. He walked to Wesley and ran his hand down his naked body.

The former watcher could almost *feel * the touch. He ran the cloth down his stomach, to his hardening cock

Then, Lindsey backed away. Angel appeared, pulling Lindsey to him, kissing him. Lindsey responded wantonly, throwing his body on Angel.

"Lindsey, why?" he whispered as he, unable to stop, continued to pleasure himself.

Lindsey left Angel and walked back to Wesley. He leaned close, his hand reaching down to Wesley's aching member. "Because I met him first," he whispered.

Gasping, Wesley came, his seed rushing out into the cloth and over his hand.

Drawing in a breath, Wesley cleaned up and went back to his room. Just as he had pulled out a pair of pajamas, there was a knock on the door.

He pulled the pants on quickly and went to the front room. Looking through the peep hole, he sighed.

"Hello, Angel," he said, opening the door.

Angel held up a white paper bag. "Snack time," he said cheerily.

Wesley sighed. "Come in." He stepped back, allowing the vampire into his house.

Instead of going to the kitchen, Angel sat on the couch. "Come. Sit. I've got a surprise."

"What?" asked Wesley warily, sitting next to Angel, facing him.

"Close your eyes."

Wesley raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Close your eyes. Close." Angel gently pushed Wesley's eyelids down with his fingertips.

"Fine. They're closed."

He heard the bag rustling as Angel dug something out.

"Ok. Open your mouth."

With a sigh, Wesley complied. A moment later, something sweet and juicy was placed on his tongue.

His eyes flew open as he closed his mouth. He bit the fruit, juice squirting out. Closing his eyes again, he savored the taste. "What is this?" he asked after swallowing, tongue searching for more.

"Strawberry," Angel replied, sounding pleased. "I heard you telling Cordelia that you'd never had any before, so, I thought I'd bring you some. What do you think?"

"It's delicious." Wesley reached for another, but Angel nimbly evaded his grasp, instead bringing the fruit to Wesley's lips.

The former watcher blushed, but obediently opened his mouth. Angel put the rest of the fruit on Wesley's tongue, finger brushing against it ever so slightly before withdrawing.

Once again, Wesley allowed himself to be caught up in the wonderful taste. He closed his eyes, sighing, wishing there were more as he swallowed the last bit.

"Want more?"

"Yes, please?" Wesley, trained all too easily, kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth, ready for the next taste.

A moment later, it arrived.

On Angel's tongue.

"Mrgup!" Wesley exclaimed, eyes opening.

Angel held him in place, his tongue transferring ownership of the fruit to Wesley with a delicate movement. He began mashing the strawberry, gentle strokes teasing and tasting the inside of Wesley's mouth, touching each sensitive area lightly before darting away to discover a new section, lavishing every bit with equally devoted attention.

Wesley shuddered from the pleasure of Angel's talented tongue, eyes closing as he reflexively pressed his bare chest to the vampire's.

Waiting until the last possible moment, Angel pulled back, looking mildly regretful. One cool, smooth hand slid up Wesley's arm to rest at the juncture where his neck met his shoulder. "Well?"

Dumbstruck, Wesley swallowed, breathing hard. "Ah. . ." He didn't know what to say.

Encouraged, Angel set the bag aside, pulling Wesley closer into his embrace. Their lips met again, satin on satin, brushing gently, before Angel's tongue began to trace the outline of the lips beneath his once again.

Wesley hesitated, but Angel, with gentle force, pushed insistently. The mortal opened, allowing the vampire access. Angel lay Wesley on his back,against the couch his hand sliding down to the former Watcher's nipple. Taking the sensitive nub between his finger and thumb, the vampire began to tease the nipple, pulling and twisting it gently, kneading it into hardness.

Wesley whimpered into the vampire's mouth as waves of pleasure began to wash through him.

He had been caught unprepared for this. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined being seduced by Angel. He had no defense, no plan of attack, no way to escape. If he wanted to escape, which he wasn't sure of.

After all, there was no reason *not * to allow this to happen.

As if on cue, the phone rang.

Startled, Wesley began to pull away, but Angel followed, trapping the former Watcher with his superior strength.

After a few rings, the machine picked up.

/ This is the number for Wesley Whyndam-Pryce. Please leave a message / The machine beeped.

"Hi, Wesley, this is Lindsey."

Wesley jerked away from Angel, locking his elbow to hold the vampire at a distance.

"Look," Lindsey continued, "I know you're mad at me and I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Listen, I don't know what he told you or why he did. ..well, I know why he did, but never mind. If you're with him, that's ok; I just want for you to be happy, really,I do. But I have to say this. Wesley, you weren't a second choice, if that's what you think. Angel never really was a choice, he just happened. Situational tension and lust, that's all. It wasn't love and it didn't mean enough to keep me there. I wasn't calling you, talking to you, because Angel wasn't there that first night. *You * are my choice, Wes. Don't undervalue yourself by thinking that . . that no one could want you when there are other people." Lindsey sighed. "I want to talk to you. Please. At least . ..at least let me say good-bye. Call me, please." He left a number and hung up.

There was a long moment of silence before Wesley, still in Angel's arms, looked up at him. Licking his swollen lips, he remarked, "Funny how he thinks I might be with you. It's only been two weeks and he knows how I've felt about you lately."

"Maybe he's got the place bugged. Spying on you," Angel suggested.

Wesley raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so." He sat up, forcing the vampire off him, then moved to the arm of the couch. "How long have you known?"

Angel sighed and rested his head on the cushions. "Since that day you called him in Nashville. I made a copy of the number and called him. I needed to know who you were talking to."

"Why?"

"Possessiveness. Jealousy. Take your pick."

Wesley rubbed his eyes wearily. "And you told me that the two of you slept together to make me angry? To make me not trust him? To make me think that I didn't matter?"

Angel closed his eyes. "You needed him, Wesley, and I didn't want you to need anyone but me."

"Do you want me to need you because you see me as your possession, or because you love me?"

Angel met Wesley's eyes. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "But . . I feel for you. A lot. It hurts me that you're angry with me, that you don't love me anymore."

"You didn't want my love when I had it," responded Wesley quietly. After a pause, during which he gazed into Angel's eyes, he said, "I didn't do this because of you, as a form of rebellion. He needed help, then I needed help, then we realized we got along. He made me happy."

"I want to make you happy."

"Well, you started badly." Wesley rose. "I think it's time for you to go."

The vampire rose as well. "Yeah, sure. You're going to call him, aren't you?"

"I might." Wesley bit his lip. "This isn't a rejection, Angel. I just need time to sort this all out. Please?"

Angel nodded. "Ok. See you tomorrow?"

"Yes."

Before he left, Angel leaned into Wesley and gently brushed their lips together. Pulling back only slightly, he whispered, "Good-night," before he left with silent grace.

Wesley closed the door behind Angel, then leaned against it, sighing heavily. Just a year ago he had dreamed of the vampire wanting him - desiring him. Now? It was different, everything was different.

He wandered back to the couch and hit the replay button the answering machine, listening carefully.

"I want to talk to you. Please. At least . ..at least let me say good-bye. Call me, please."

After a moment of deliberation, Wesley picked up the phone and dialed.

Lindsey answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

He hesitated long enough for Lindsey to say, "Wesley? Is that you?"

"Yes."

"Hey. How are you?" asked Lindsey softly.

"All right. You?"

"Terrible. I miss you. I . . .I'm sorry I fucked up. I never meant . . ..this won't help, I know, but it didn't mean enough to me to even think about bringing it up. And I know it didn't mean all that much to him, either. If it had, I would have told you. Honest."

Wesley shut his eyes. "How did it happen?"

Lindsey sighed. "It just did. I spent the night there, the night before We did the rescue. It just . . I was scared and looking for something mindless. I came onto him. I thought . . I thought that sleeping with him would, I don't know,. You know that part of him that's the hero? I guess I was kinda hoping that it would rub off on me. And after the rescue, he took me back to his place. He didn't kick me out and . . ."

"Was it a way to say thank you?" Wesley finished.

Lindsey laughed bitterly. "Yes and no. I didn't feel obligated, if that's what you're thinking." He sucked in a breath. " I probably just lost you with that, didn't I?"

Wesley shook his head, not caring that his companion couldn't see him. "No, you didn't. I prefer honesty." Lying down, stretching out on the couch, Wesley asked, "Was he good?"

"Yeah. He was. But, he wasn't worth it, not for me. There were times that . . .that he made me feel like the whore I know I am. I felt empty. Used. But, I don't mean that if you . . . I mean he probably won't do that to you. He likes you. He wants you."

"Yes, I know." Wesley sighed. "He tried to seduce me. If you hadn't called. . ." he trailed off unable to finish. It all seemed so unreal.

Lindsey was silent.

Anxious, Wesley asked, "Lindsey?"

"I can leave you alone. If you like," Lindsey said, sounding defeated. "Stop calling. Ever again. If you want me to."

"No." Distress colored Wesley's words. "I'm . . .I'm confused, Lindsey. I've missed you, missed having you to talk to." Wesley stared at the ceiling, feeling anxious and unsure. "I'm confused about everything. You. Angel. Me. What I want. I don't know. I need. . .I need some time to think."

"I can give you time," Lindsey responded immediately. "I can wait until you know what you want. And I don't care which of us you want, as long as you are sure it's best for you. I mean . . I'm falling in love with you, so of course there is that part that would prefer you . . .anyway. There. I've said it." Lindsey sounded as if he had flung himself off a cliff and was waiting to see if he would fall or fly.

Wesley stayed very still, his heart fluttering in this chest, hardly breathing. If he moved, then he would wake up and Lindsey's words weren't real. He didn't want to wake. He wanted always to stay in this dream.

He liked this dream.

"Wes? Did I scare you?" Lindsey inquired hesitantly.

"No," Wesley whispered.

There was a sigh of relief. "Good. Listen, I'm in Las Vegas right now. I'm afraid to come into California, but I would like to see you. If you want to see me. I can come if . . ."

"No, I don't think you're coming here is a good idea," Wesley said, sitting up. See Lindsey?

"Ok. I have to go back to New York at the end of the week. I'm talking with an agent. He seems . .really good. But, when that's done, I'll be coming back to get my truck."

"I don't know."

"I'll be here all week, until Sunday. Just think about it?"

Wesley nodded. "I will. I'm . . .I'm glad you called."

There was a smile in Lindsey's voice. "Yeah. Me too."

*****
Part 7:

Wesley entered the Hyperion the next day, carrying the bag Angel had left at his flat the night before.

Angel, at the front desk looking at a large text, glanced up. "Hi."

"Hi. Where are Cordelia and Gunn?"

"Cordy's at an audition, Gunn is with his old crew."

"Ah." Wesley set the bag on the front desk. "You were planning quite a night. Whipped cream, honey. Were you planning on fucking me or devouring me?"

The vampire gave him a slight smile. "Making love, I believe is the nicer term. Fucking is more .. . .well, it's something else."

Wesley's face hardened. "Like what you did with Lindsey."

Angel sighed. "Yeah. Like what I did with Lindsey."

The former watcher nodded once and slid the bag across the counter. "Here. I'll be in my office." With one last glance, Wesley went into his office, and shut the door.

* * *

"Listen, Wes," Angel said Tuesday night as the former Watcher readied to leave. "I know you need time, but do you have any idea when I might know anything?"

Wesley, his cheek bruised from a battle with a Rythpt demon earlier that evening, raised an eyebrow. "Are you getting bored?"

"No, of course not. I just. . .was wondering."

"I'm not sure. Sorry." He didn't feel very sorry. Turning to Gunn, he asked, "Are you ready?" Wesley asked, looking at his friend.

Gunn pulled his keys out of his pocked. "Yeah, English. Let's go."

On the drive home, Wesley pulled something out of his pocket. "I'm leaving tonight," he said, scribbling something on a card.

Gunn glanced over at Wesley, surprise written across his face. "Leaving? Where?"

The former watcher smiled at the concern in his friend's voice. "Don't worry, I'm coming back. I'm taking a trip to Las Vegas. There's someone I need to see there."

Gunn studied him for a moment. "Does this have anything to do with Angel acting all weird around you lately? Overprotective and possessive and all that shit? Because, if it is, I'll be happy to tell him to back off."

Wesley shook his head. "Thank you, but no. Not yet. Angel has gotten it into his head that he might be in love with me. I don't think that's the case. I think it's more of a possession thing. But, he's only part of the poblem. There is simply someone I need to see. Just to see . . . if I .. ."

"Wes?" Gunn prodded as the former Watcher trailed off.

Wesley rubbed his forehead. "Can I tell you when I come back?"

"Promise?"

"Yes. Here. This is the number of where I will be. I will try and call you in two days. If I don't. . .well, I don't think he's been lying to me, but if I don't, assume I've been abducted - hopefully not killed - and come after me."

Gunn, stopping in front of Wesley's flat, took the number. "Are you trying to scare me? What the hell is going on, Wes?"

"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing," Wesley said.

"How can you know what you're doing if you're sitting here, telling me that if you don't call in two days to assume you've been kidnapped? Wesley, where are you going?"

Wesley put his hands over his face. "To see some one that I'm. . . that I . . .I need to see how I feel about . .. .about him. And I'm afraid Angel will do something if he finds out before I leave."

The young warrior was silent for a moment. Then, he slid his arm around Wesley's shoulder. "You want me to come with you?"

"No. I have to do this alone. At this point, anything that I have to face is better than becoming Angel's. . ..possession."

"Right." Gunn sighed. "I don't like this, Wesley, but I can't stop you. Just, please, you know how to fight. Don't let anyone hurt you. Anyone. Do what's right for you."

Wesley raised his face, looking into the serious eyes of his friend. He nodded once. "Yes. I will. Thank you."

* * *

Lindsey sat on his bed, strumming his guitar. He'd been trying to write a song for three days and it just wouldn't come. It was probably because he had no optimism anymore.. When he had Wesley in his life, the songs came easily. He would wake up, brush his teeth, write a song, eat breakfast, revise the song, find the right melody, eat lunch, work and, by sunset, would have the perfect song to describe the type of feeling he was going for.

Now, he was all dried up. Nothing would come, not even he simplest tune.

He sighed and strummed the strings. "Well, can't write country, I guess. Look what I've lost and I can't even sing it," he said to himself.

He knew he was being melodramatic. After all, he wasn't a child; writer's block was temporary, unless you died before you were over it. Still, that was cold comfort when you were stuck in the middle of a brain freeze, unable to produce anything.

The phone rang, interrupting his musings.

Lindsey, suddenly hopeful, lunged across the bed, dropping his guitar in his haste. "Hello?"

"Lindsey, it's me. I'm almost to Las Vegas. Can I see you?" Wesley asked hesitantly.

Dumbstruck, Lindsey couldn't say anything. He simply sat there, staring at the bed spread, breathing.

"Lindsey?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry," Lindsey said, waking. "Of *course * you can see me. God, I . . .. Yeah. I'm staying at this inn off the Strip. There's a diner across the street; meet me there?"

"All right. Just give me the directions."

Lindsey supplied them, said good-bye, and hung up. A dopey grin spread across his face as he stared at the wall.

He couldn't believe it.

*****
Part 8:

Wesley pulled his car in the diner's parking lot and turned off the engine. For a long moment, he sat there, hands at a perfect ten and two, gazing straight ahead. This was ludicrous. He'd driven all the way from L.A. to see a man whose face he could barely remember. To see a man who had been his enemy for most of their acquaintance. It was Silly. Absurd.

He'd never seen himself as absurd before, but, when faced with facts, all one could do was accept the truth.

Sighing, he glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked a mess. That was to be expected. After all, he'd been driving for almost six hours. He ran a hand though his hair, pulled his red button down shirt on over his black tee, and left the car.

Lindsey was sitting outside the diner. When he saw Wesley, he rose.

Wesley walked to Lindsey and stopped. For a long moment, they stood there, studying each other.

Lindsey was even more handsome than Wesley remembered. Soft, wavy hair, pouty lips, confident manner. Wesley felt wildly inadequate standing so near to his perfection. Awkward, sweaty and unattractive.

The smaller man's face broke out in a wondering smile. "God, you're beautiful," he said, eyes roaming over Wesley's body.

Wesley blushed, his breath catching. "Thank you. You . . .It's good to see you."

"Yeah. You too." He bit his lip, gazing at Wesley for another moment. "Want to go inside? Get out of the heat?"

"Yes. Please."

They entered the diner and sat down. It was empty, being an off time of day, so a waitress waited on them immediately.

"Just coffee," Lindsey said.

"The same, please."

After the waitress had gone, Lindsey remarked, "I thought you'd get tea. Peppermint, right?"

Wesley smiled, pleased that Lindsey remembered him describing his favorite tea. "Yes. But not from a place like this. Somehow, it never tastes quite right, but, on occasion these small places can make the most extraordinary coffee. Thank you," he said as the waitress placed a steaming mug in front of him.

Lindsey took a sip of his. "I've noticed that too. How did you . . oh, right. Your rogue demon hunter days." He said it with a smile.

"Yes. I ate at quite a few places like this." Wesley sat back, a smile playing on his lips. "Washed quite a few dishes as well. I've only come into money recently, with my father's death. Before that, after being fired from the Council, cash was hard to come by."

"When I was in college, it was like that. I had just enough to pay for tuition, but not quite enough to eat. Right now I'm still good with money. I put a lot away, but keep expecting it to disappear. You know, when the firm. . .if the firm decides to kill me or something." He took another drink, gulping the steaming liquid down quickly. "Sorry about your father. I didn't know that he had died."

"It's ok. Not many people know. He and I . . .we had a strained relationship to begin with. Getting fired only served as a way for him to disassociate himself from me." Wesley grimaced. "An excuse not to have to talk to me any more. I assumed he wrote me out of his will, but he didn't. Sole surviving heir."

Lindsey cocked his head. "Sole surviving heir," he repeated. "Are you rich?"

Wesley nodded. "Yes."

"Oh." He seemed to shrink into himself before saying, "I've never been rich until Wolfram and Hart. There's this part of me . .." he trailed off and shook his head. "No, I do feel bad, really. That's why I left; I couldn't deal with it anymore. But I can't give the money up, not yet, just because. . .I mean, I guess if I was a hero, I would. But I'm not. And I'm not going to go around, seeking redemption or anything. I'm just going to do what's good for me. As long as I don't, I don't know, really hurt anyone else. But, yeah." He set his chin, looking slightly defiant, but didn't quite meet Wesley's gaze.

The former Watcher sighed. "If you wanted me to start hating you, you should have done it before I drove out here. It's too late now; unless you confess to a hideous murder, I'm not going to judge you. And, I don't expect you to do anything; you made bad choices, you're through with that, you're moving on. No one is asking you to do any more."

Lindsey looked down at the table. For a long moment, neither man said anything, just sipped their coffee. Finally, Lindsey asked, "Why are you here?"

"You wanted to see me. And. . .and I wanted to see you."

"Why?"

Wesley laughed softly. "I could ask you the same question."

The lawyer looked up, drumming his right hand on the table. "Isn't it obvious? I mean, I told you that I . . ."

"Oh, Lindsey!" Wesley interrupted, distressed. He reached across the table and grabbed Lindsey's right hand. "What did you do?"

"It's not what it looks like," Lindsey said guiltily. His hand was covered in deep cuts, mostly healed.

Wesley traced the scars gently. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't do it on purpose. Well, not hurt myself on purpose."

"Then what happened?"

He sighed. "I kinda put my hand through a window. That's all. When Angel told you what he did. I was pissed and he was there, taunting me with the fact that he probably had you. It just seemed . . .too much. To deal with. Too frustrating."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry what he did to you." Wesley gazed into Lindsey's eyes, asking for forgiveness.

"Don't be sorry," the smaller man replied, shaking his head. "It wasn't your fault. Don't ever think that it was your fault."

A smiled touched Wesley's lips as his long, elegant fingers caressed the skin as if trying to rub the wounds away. "This one is different." He traced a long white scare that ran from the base of Lindsey thumb to his wrist.

Lindsey suppressed a shudder. "Yeah, that one was deliberate. It's where I cut myself. Our first night." He took a deep breath. "Can I . . .can I touch you?" he asked, his voice roughened by desire.

Gray eyes met his, wide with surprise and something else. "Yes," Wesley whispered.

With a shaking hand, Lindsey reached out and gently touched Wesley's cheek. He slid his hand over the smooth skin, caressing gently, closing his eyes against the sensation, fingers moving to thread in the short, silky hair.

"Can we go some where else?" Wesley asked hesitantly. "Alone?"

Lindsey's eyes popped open. "Alone?"

Wesley nodded.

"Yeah. Ok. Is my room all right?"

"That will be fine." Wesley rose, taking Lindsey's hand in his.

They paid for the coffee and crossed the street to Lindsey's hotel room. There were three rooms: a living room, kitchen, and bedroom. Sleeping on the couch, was a kitten , tail in her mouth. When the two men entered, she raised her head, opening her eyes sleepily, and gave a small "me-ow" before going back to sleep.

"Oh, that's my cat. Micah. She's a stray that I'm thinking of keeping," Lindsey said, closing the door.

"She's very pretty," Wesley replied. He pulled away from Lindsey, glancing around the small, apartment-style room. "This is very nice for something not a thousand dollars a night."

"Thanks. I like this place better than the big hotels; more privacy." He shifted his weight. "I was figuring, if you wanted to stay and . . not . . well, you can take the bed and I can have the couch. You know, if. . ."

"Weren't you planning on seducing me? Aren't you?" Wesley asked, facing Lindsey.

The lawyer shrugged. "I'm afraid to try. Afraid of pushing you away. You set the rules. The pace."

Wesley bit his lip, pulling the red over shirt off and dropping it on a chair. "Were you ever in love with Angel?"

Lindsey shook his head. "No. He and I . . there was no he and I. It was just fucking. That's all."

Slowly, Wesley stepped closer to Lindsey. "Are you in love with me?"

"I think so. Yeah. I mean, I am." He took a small step closer to Wesley.

"How can you love someone you've never kissed?" He took another step.

"I don't know." Lindsey stepped closer. "How can you not love the person whose voice comforts you, gives you hope? Floats in your dreams?" Lindsey took another step, then reached for Wesley's hand.

After a moment's hesitation, Wesley slid his hand in Lindsey's. They leaned into each other, lips brushing lightly, tasting, before pulling back.

The former Watcher licked his lips, then, in a sudden movement, pressed his body to Lindsey's. Their lips met again, hot, hungry, months of passion built up from miles apart releasing onto each other.

Lindsey entwined their other hand. The taller man broke their mouths apart, keeping their bodies flush.

"And now?"

Lindsey smiled and kissed the underside of Wesley's jaw. "Now I'm even more convinced."

"So am I." Wesley pulled away and walked into the bedroom.

For a moment, Lindsey stayed in place, smiling stupidly. He couldn't believe this was happening. He wanted to ask if this was right, afraid that he was pushing Wesley, even though it his love that had obviously just walked into this bedroom without any pressing. Finally, he shook himself and went into the bedroom.

The taller man was sitting on the bed wearing only a pair of boxers. When Lindsey entered, he smiled. "I was afraid you'd changed your mind."

Lindsey pulled his shirt off and went to the bed. Using his body to push Wesley onto his back, he whispered throatily, "Never," before claiming the soft lips beneath his.

* * *

The next morning, Wesley woke. For a long moment, he stared at the ceiling, absurdly happy. Then, after leaning over and lightly kissing his lover, he slid out of bed and walked - naked - into the living room.

Micah, the kitten, was playing with a dust ball. When she saw Wesley, she meowed, demanding to be petted. Wesley sat on the couch, allowing the cat to curl next to him. He picked up the phone, dialed, then began stroking the cat.

"Hello?"

Wesley took a deep breath. "Hi, Angel. It's Wesley."

There was a long pause before Angel said guardedly, "Hi." Then, after another pause, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Happy, too."

"Good. Fine. Happy. Great." The vampire's tone was anything but happy.

"Angel, he was willing to lose me to you. He wanted me to chose what was best for me." No need to say who.

"So I should too? Is that what you're saying?" Angel asked, sounding bitter.

Wesley frowned. "I would hope that, after the disappointment, you could."

"Right. Why don't you just tell me how to feel about everything now, Wesley?" the vampire asked harshly. Then he sighed. "When are you coming home?"

He hesitated before answering, knowing that the vampire would not be happy with his decision. "Not for a while," Wesley finally said. "I think I'm going to New York with Lindsey."

"Why?" Angel sounded upset.

Wesley hesitated. "I want some time with him. To get to know him. To live with him. And . .I'm afraid to go back to you just now."

"I wouldn't . . ."

"Angel, whether you admit it or not, you see me as your possession. You may not intend to punish me, but just in case, I think we should spend some time apart. Nothing has gotten much better between us and I'm happy where I am. Please understand that. . ."

"Fine. Whatever. Enjoy your fucking honeymoon." Angel slammed down the phone.

Sighing, Wesley hung up and dialed a new number. After explaining the situation to Gunn and securing his blessing , Wesley hung up. For a long moment, he sat there, petting the cat, drifting from depression to happiness. Finally, he rose, and went into the bedroom Lindsey was awake, staring at the ceiling.

"Are you leaving?" he asked without looking at Wesley.

Wesley laid in the bed, sliding his hand across Lindsey's bare stomach. "No," he said, leaning down to kiss his lover's chest. "No, I'm not. Can I go with you? To New York?"

Amazed blue eyes met his. "You want to go with me?"

"Yes. I can't say for how long, but right now, all I want to be is with you." He slid up Lindsey's body, kissing him gently.

Lindsey wrapped his arms around Wesley, deepening the kiss. "I'm asking you to come to me, be with me, stay with me. I make no demands, expect nothing grand, I just ask you to stay for as long as you can," he whispered into Wesley's neck.

"That sounds like a song," Wesley whispered back.

His lover grinned. "It just might be, Wes. It just might be."

~Fin~