[Gunnwesley] Fic: Kungai Part Two 4/12 (Wesley/Gunn, NC17)

[helenraven]

Title: Kungai Part Two 4/12
Author: Helen Raven
Email: helenraven at talk21.com
Summary: The full history of the relationship between
Gunn and Wesley in the Birthdayverse. A novel in six
parts.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit, not even a blip
on the litigation radar.
-----------------------
Angel was already up. Gunn had been able to hear him
in the living-room from the time he'd woken up
himself. There'd been some tidying-up noises:
shuffling of paper, drawers opening and closing. Some
clattering from the kitchen. The whir of the computer
and some short bursts of typing (a big surprise to
Gunn). Angel had gone quiet just before Wesley had
woken up, and Gunn thought he was probably sitting
reading.

"We're not going to have sex with him just next door,
are we?" Not really a question - Gunn was already
resigned to the answer, knew exactly how Wesley would
shake his head. "So what'll we do with the rest of the
day? We are taking the weekend off?"

"If Angel stays like this we could go out for a meal.
Maybe even a film, if we can find something we agree
on. Would you consider a film with the same cameraman
as 'Malcolm X'?"

"Wes, if it's a matter of a date with you, I'd
consider the same accountant. Anyway, it must have
been ten years ago. And you already figured I might've
snuck out one or two times? Even to see some piece of
all-white crap."

Wesley shook his head. "Exemptions always given for
social necessity. Sometimes you just have to know what
people are talking about."

Soon after they were up, showered and breakfasted,
Gunn said, "Wes? I think I'll go over and see Anne, if
she's in. Should be back by four."

"OK. I'll check the paper for the film listings."

Anne was in and could spare the time for a walk in
Exposition Park. Apart from wanting to see Anne, Gunn
also needed some sunshine after all those hours in the
tunnels with Kamal and Jo, especially since sunshine
wasn't welcome in any room in the apartment. Gunn
drove, and they ended up walking round the Rose
Garden.

"Did they tell you straight off? What they say?"

Anne shook her head. "Not till I asked about you. They
said you'd met some English guy. Moved in with him.
Think that was all they wanted to say, but..." She
shrugged. "I was surprised, asked some questions. If
it was the same English guy I'd met. They were
spooked. It was obvious. Kept saying they'd no idea
about you. But playing it as cool as they could. There
was nothing I'd hate to repeat to you or to him."

Gunn nodded. "Yeah, they said they'd play it cool.
Long as they didn't have to pretend they were happy
for me." How bitter did he sound? Some, probably.

A few hundred yards later Anne said, "I liked him. But
he's the last person I'd think... You weren't together
back then, were you?"

"Barely met him. Didn't know if I liked him. I don't
know how much chance you'll have to get to know him,
but... He's like no one else I've ever met. He says
hi. Well... 'sends his regards'."

They laughed, then Anne brought him up to date with
the shelter, especially with the latest legal miracle
from the shelter's tame lawyers. Gunn couldn't argue
with their results and free was a great price, but he
couldn't believe this Lindsey was really the
undercover idealist he seemed to be pushing to Anne.
You want to help the people who really need help, you
just damn well do it. You don't choose to bide your
time behind a marble desk wearing a thousand dollar
suit and spend your days helping rich people to carry
on doing whatever the fuck they want. If you've
decided to go after the money, at least be honest
about it. Of course, Anne might just be hearing what
she wanted to hear, the man might not have done
anything more than mention some news report; but from
the "Lindsey did this" and "Lindsey thinks that" and
"Lindsey and I are looking at ideas for Wolfram and
Hart to hold a fundraiser for next year", he guessed
that Lindsey and his thousand dollar suit had some
good lines between them.

"Talking about fundraising... You have to be looking
for work now that you've...  If you haven't found
anything yet, you know I can ask around."

"Thanks, but I've joined Wesley in his demon business.
You know, the one on his card. Hasn't been doing well
but I think I can turn it around."

"Right. Angel Investigations. It was on the answering
machine, too. The Angel part's a person, isn't it? It
wasn't Wesley's voice on the machine. You said when
Wesley came to the shelter that there might be two of
them. And Dean told me about a fight in a thrift shop.
A man who had to go sit in the car."

"That's Angel." Then, sharply: "Dean told you about
the thrift shop? He wasn't even there." So much for
the crew playing it cool. Who the hell had thought it
would be smart to get that story out?

Anne shook her head. "It was when we were alone for a
few minutes. He seemed puzzled about what had
happened. Concerned for you, I think. Wanted to know
what impression I'd got of Wesley. If I knew anything
more about his life. Which I don't, so..." She
shrugged. "I told him what I'd liked about Wesley, he
seemed reassured. Is Angel an ex-boxer, or something?"

"What? Where'd you get that?"

"He sounds like he's a trained fighter with brain
damage. Thought he might've met Wesley and decided to
put his prize money into a detective business."

Gunn shook his head. "I haven't really figured out
what he did before. But he set up the business on his
own. Then there was an accident that caused the brain
damage. And then he met Wesley."

"How bad's the damage?"

"Gettin' worse. He has good days but he can't take
care of himself now."

"Wesley takes care of him?"

"Yeah. He stays in the apartment with us." At Anne's
look of surprise he shrugged, then said, "I'm about
used to it already. But don't tell Dean about Angel if
he asks again. Wesley won't mind me telling you, but I
don't want the crew to get any details. They're too
angry with me. They mustn't have anything they could
use to take it out on Wesley."

Pained: "That's most of your friends, Charles. Some of
my friends."

"You do what you have to. I'm not at war with them,
you know. Just know we need to keep out of each
other's way for a while, not force each other into
doing anythin' stupid. Few months we'll calm down,
realise the action's moved on and no one's checkin' us
out any more t'see how we're takin' it. If a reason
comes along to start talkin' again, we might even be
happy to take it."

* * * * *

"So what've you found for us?" The paper was open on
the coffee table, and Gunn could see that several
listings were circled.

"For 'us', I don't know. Can we see what you think of
what I've found for 'me'?"

"'s a place to start."

"The 5.30 show of 'Passion Fish' at the Nuart in Santa
Monica. And then a curry at the Gate of India. Also in
Santa Monica."

"Like the curry. Need more on the movie."

"It's been out for a few years. I saw it in London.
It's about a soap actress who loses the use of her
legs in a car accident and goes back to where she grew
up in Louisiana. Retreats there. A nurse comes to work
for her who's pulling out of a bad time of her own.
It's about... when your old life's gone, what it takes
to even want a new one. Alfre Woodard plays the nurse,
if that helps. And it's very funny in places. I don't
know if you'd like it, but I'd really like to know
what you'd make of it. It stayed with me."

Sounded like hard work to Gunn, but hell, it was only
two hours out of his life. "The funny sounds good.
Only one way to find out about the rest. You don't
want to eat first, though? 'Dinner and a movie'?"

"I was thinking about Angel. I always feel that the
longer I eave him, the more likely it is that he'll
have a vision. And I'd rather get the film safely out
of the way first. I'm sure there's a flaw in my
reasoning. I'm missing something basic in the maths.
But will you humour me until I've worked out the
proof?"

"5.30's fine. A couple of weeks ago I didn't think
we'd ever be able to leave him long enough for either
dinner or a movie."

Wesley insisted on sitting in an aisle seat, and went
out every twenty minutes to call in to Angel; which
could only suggest drug business to everyone except an
innocent like Wesley. They made it safely through the
movie and to the restaurant, and Gunn found out that
Wesley had already spoiled him for L.A. curries. They
ordered the lamb dish that Wesley had cooked for them,
and it tasted good but it tasted all the same, from
the first mouthful right to the last. No problem with
that, you'd think - unless someone had already served
you a version where every mouthful had you thinking
"Damn, this is good!" like you were tasting it for the
very first time; where you could eat the whole portion
without figuring out the trick of how it all worked
together.

They didn't talk much about the food after Gunn had
given his verdict and enjoyed Wesley's reaction.
Wesley said less when he was pleased than anyone else
Gunn knew, but Gunn didn't need words when Wesley's
face got that glow, the one that made him look years
younger.

"Yeah, the movie was good. Can't say it grabbed me - I
like action. But it felt real. Like the real way
people... get close, don't get close, sort of drift
round each other. Gotta respect that in a movie. And
it was funny, like you'd said. And Angela Bassett was
in it, so it was even OK with my 'Malcolm X' thing."

"Oh yes, she was the actress friend, wasn't she? I
didn't know who she was when I first saw the film. I
hadn't thought about that." Wesley's voice changed
suddenly from vague interest to full enthusiasm: "I
thought the scene between her and Alfre Woodard in the
kitchen was very interesting, when they're talking
about their different backgrounds in Chicago. Of
course, I don't know how realistic it is, but that was
the first hint I'd ever seen of deeply-rooted class
distinctions between black people in America. I'm not
saying it's a good thing but it gave me a point of
reference - as a typical class-ridden Englishman
trying to understand a country I hadn't yet visited -
and that scene made me realise that my assumptions
about how black people lived, how they related to one
another were much too simple. That there must be
history. And layers."

"You're lookin' for history, you know you've come to
the wrong place."

"It's not realistic?"

"What class is a cop?"

"Lower middle." Wesley sounded so definite, like he
was stating a law of nature.

"Then that's as far as I go with that 'relating'.
Those teachers and lawyers and doctors, they don't
come visitin' us. All I know's what I see on TV. Maybe
Louisiana's one thing. My part of L.A.'s another."

Wesley nodded. "You'd said I don't understand the
inner city. Maybe I do need to watch 'Summer of Sam'
again."

"You just need to meet some more of my friends. Maybe
a couple of my enemies."

Over dessert Gunn said, "Wes? In the movie, with her
waking up in hospital, the physiotherapy, everything.
I wondered if it was different enough that you didn't
- Or maybe it even helped?"

"Different enough from what happened to me? When I
lost my arm?"

Gunn nodded.

Slowly: "It made me realise how lucky I was that Angel
was there. He never tried to look as if he wanted to
be, but at least he was there. And I knew he'd be
there the next day, too. Seeing her alone in all those
scenes in the hospital, I thought, 'I was lucky.' "

Wesley took a mouthful of coffee, then stared down at
the cup. Gunn waited, sure that Wesley wasn't
finished, not judging by the tone of his voice, the
way he was frowning, how tense his hand was holding
the cup. Suddenly, Wesley raised his head, not
frowning now but looking very serious. "I'd remembered
that the film started like that, though. I knew it
didn't have anything of the things that are difficult
for me. But I'd forgotten that scene near the end: the
dream she has where she's sitting on the dock, and she
stands up and walks to him, as if she'd done it a
hundred times before, as if they both took it for
granted."

Wesley paused, then smiled at Gunn - a sad smile that
made Gunn wish he could take back his question. "In
all the dreams I've had about you, I'm able to hold
you properly. My dreams won't admit yet what's
happened." Another pause, and a shrug. "I don't know
if the scene was really supposed to be about that. It
was probably about her conscious mind, conjuring up a
fantasy. But everything about the way it was shot...
Yes, that's how it feels."

Gunn reached across the tablecloth and touched the
back of his fingers to Wesley's. "I'm sorry. I
shouldn't have asked. I should've known."

Wesley shook his head briskly. "If I'd wished you
hadn't asked, I would have fobbed you off. Said I
didn't see any connection at all." He pushed his hand
gently against Gunn's and smiled again, an entirely
different smile. "I'm glad you asked."

* * * * *


In the last half hour of the film and throughout the
meal, Angel had been distracted and impatient whenever
Wesley called in, so Gunn wasn't surprised that Angel
ignored them when they got back to the apartment. He
was sitting in the armchair with a pad on his lap,
drawing slowly, concentrating hard, and with some
dramatic, clashing classical music playing loudly
behind him.

"Angel? I'm going to turn the music down a bit." Gunn
wasn't sure if Wesley was asking permission, but Angel
carried on drawing anyway, and Gunn thought he might
not even have been aware of the music.

The drawings weren't like the ones Angel had made of
the vision. Those had been urgent sketches, picking
out just a few details like they were frozen in a
spotlight - like Kamal's face, or pipes on the
ceiling. These new drawings filled in the whole scene
- a room, a street, a forest - but all drawn very
small, small enough that he could fit six or seven on
the same page.

"What's he doing?"

Wesley shrugged. "Drawing for pleasure, I think. I
didn't know he had more than one style." A pause. "We
could try to get him to move next door."

"He's OK. You're still just looking for a couple of
hours reading, right? Might have moved himself by the
time we're ready for bed."

Gunn had meant to spend Wesley's reading time working
through the beginner's book he'd got for the computer,
but after a couple of chapters he learned enough to
find out there were some games on the computer, and
then obviously he had to try every one of them out. At
some point he noticed the music wasn't playing any
more, and he wondered what game he'd been playing when
it had stopped.

"What was the movie like?" Gunn started at the sound
of Angel's voice, clicked in the wrong square, and saw
immediately that he would be going back to Level 1
again with the pipe-laying.

"I enjoyed it even more than I did the first time."
Wesley was so smooth at dealing with these changes in
Angel; he acted like they'd just come in the door and
sat down, and Angel was asking the question like a
normal roommate. "I don't think Charles will be
looking to see it again, though."

"I see why Wes likes it at lot, but... dunno who I'd
see it with, apart from Wes. All my friends'd think it
was too slow. Not really about anything. Not even a
happy ending for the chicks. There's just a kind of
buzz we expect to get from a movie, y'know? They'd
never let me forget it."

Wesley looked amused. "I can see I'm going to learn a
lot when you choose the next one."

"I'd like to see a movie." Angel sounded wistful.

Wesley and Angel had had this conversation before,
Gunn could tell: Wesley was sympathetic but very firm.
"You can't have a vision in a cinema, Angel. You just
can't." Angel nodded, gave a slight shrug, and turned
his attention back to his drawing pad.

"What about in a car, though? Couldn't we go to a
drive-in?" Gunn saw Wesley wince, then shake himself
into looking interested and optimistic. Wesley the
movie snob. This was gonna be fun.

"A drive-in?" Angel looked like he didn't want to be
too hopeful. "But the nearest one's probably thirty
miles away. And what sort of movies do they show these
days? Is it worth driving to Pomona to see 'Night of
the Giant Crabs'?"

"Hell, yes! 'Night of the Giant Crabs', Wes? Bet you
wouldn't get a chance like that back home."

Wesley raised his eyebrows. "I wouldn't. We don't have
drive-ins." He leaned forward and picked up the paper
from the coffee table. "Where is the nearest drive-in?
I didn't notice any when I was checking the listings."

"I think there's a couple out east. Closer than
Pomona. Should be something online if it isn't in the
paper."

"Could you look into it some time? I don't know about
Angel but I might need a few weeks to get myself in
the perfect mood for 'Night of the Giant Crabs'."

Gunn and Angel looked at one another and smiled, then
Gunn said, "What you been drawin', Angel? You been
workin' on that all evening, looks like."

Angel looked down at the pad, then frowned, held it
up, and started flipping slowly back through the
pages. Gunn saw more of the small scenes on the first
page Angel turned, but the other five or six pages
were the usual large sketches. When Angel got to the
beginning of the pad he stared at the cover for
several seconds, then worked through the pages again,
even more slowly than before. At the third blank page
he stopped and looked up at Wesley. "Is it a story? I
know there are connections, but I can't... What are we
supposed to do?"

"Admire your talent, Angel, that's all. You were
listening to music. I think it must have stirred
associations for you."

Angel turned to look at the hi-fi system then back at
Wesley. He nodded several times, then got to his feet,
let the pad fall to the floor, and went straight to
the kitchen and into his routine for feeding himself.
Wesley picked the pad up and put it in the desk
drawer, then sat down and went back to his reading.
Gunn started the game again.

"Goodnight?" Angel was standing at the door of his
room, hand on the doorknob. He looked totally
disoriented, could even have been asking if it was
night or morning.

Wesley a split-second before Gunn: "Goodnight, Angel."

Gunn got himself to the end of Level 3, then paused
the game and went to sit next to Wesley on the couch.
Quietly: "Now that was my fault. Really lost him
there."

Wesley shrugged and laid his book on the arm of the
couch. "He might have known what the drawings were
about. I was curious myself. I wouldn't have asked but
then you know I've probably been playing it so safe
that he's got bored. You asked because you were
interested. That's a good reason. I decided long ago
that the only workable criterion for judging how I'd
treated him was... 'Did I act with his best interests
at heart?' " A heavy sigh. "For what I've had to do in
self-defence... Well -"

"Jeez! You don't have to justify lockin' him in his
room. Scaldin' him a couple of times. He's a vampire
and he's crazy. Most guys'd chain him up and keep him
like that."

Wesley shook his head. "If it ever comes to that I'll
have to be sure I'm doing it for the right reasons.
Because it's the only way to keep us all safe. Not
because I'm angry with him. Or... Or..." He swallowed.
"It would be far too easy to do it for the wrong
reasons."

"Long as you do the chainin' first. Pick over your
reasons later."

"Or work them out beforehand. I think we'll have to
chain him if we go to the drive-in. If he had one of
the visions that make him violent... We couldn't deal
with Angelus in the confined space of the car unless
he was already restrained."

Gunn slumped heavily in the couch, let his head drop
back, and stared at the ceiling. Going to the drive-in
was supposed to be fun. A silly evening out. Would've
been great to do with the crew if they could've
afforded it. Imagine sitting in chains through some
dumb movie, surrounded by kids in cars doing all their
dumb teenage stuff. Imagine knowing this was the only
way you could ever leave the apartment unless it was
to train or fight.

Gunn dragged his hand over his face then rolled his
head to look at Wesley. "I guess once I've had to deal
with him when he's violent I won't feel so sorry for
him. He's just gettin' what he deserves, right?"

"He'd be the first to agree with that, I'm sure."

"OK." Gunn sprang to his feet. "Need a beer. Then need
to get past Level 10. You wanna beer, Wes?"

* * * * *