[Gunnwesley] Fic: Kungai Part Three 8/18 (Wesley/Gunn, NC17)

[helenraven]

Title: Kungai Part Three 8/18

Author: Helen Raven

Email: helenraven at talk21.com

Pairing: Wesley/Gunn

Summary: The full history of the relationship between
Gunn and Wesley in the Birthdayverse. A novel in six
parts.

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit, not even a blip
on the litigation radar.

The Story's Home Page: http://www.kelper.co.uk/kungai

-----------------------

Wesley got the book out again over breakfast and read
the main points of the spell out to Gunn. Gunn asked
him to stop at the first mention of entrails ("I wanna
enjoy my Danish."), but read the full description
himself over his second mug of coffee.

"Y'know, I've got an idea. For getting into the
building. Kind of had it last night but I didn't wanna
say back there."

"I would have thought you'd say anything anywhere.
What's the idea?"

"We send Angel in. If we can catch him lucid. 'cos he
c'n look a lot like a cop. And if there's blood with
the entrails - and I'm guessin' that's why the
spellcaster's got blood on his hands - then he should
be able to smell it, find the room quicker than
anyone. And he c'n fight his way out, they won't be
able to hold him, and he wouldn't even notice if they
shot him. Yeah, I know it's a gamble on him stayin'
lucid. But if he does go off track I suppose you could
go in and get him, say he's your poor, crazy cousin."

Wesley said nothing for a long time, just frowned hard
at a point above Gunn's left shoulder, and worried at
his lower lip with his teeth. Finally: "We'd have to
be very careful how we put this to the others. Nothing
about Angel being able to smell blood."

"They know how well he can fight. They've seen how
much he looks like a cop. Makes sense just with that."

Wesley said slowly, "I'll tell him the idea in his
first lucid period today. See how much he understands,
and then if he remembers it next time. After that, if
we assume that he will be lucid at some point during
the night, we could drive down to the precinct after
midnight, say, and wait for that lucid period to
arrive."

Angel decided not to walk in the main door and try to
bluff his way past the front desk, but to find a
window to get in at the back of the building. There
was a window on the second floor open about six
inches, nearest light two windows over to the left.
Angel climbed up quicker than most people would have
taken the stairs, then ten minutes later Wesley and
Gunn heard gunshots inside the building, and three or
four very long minutes after that, Angel came crashing
out of a window on the fourth floor and put a
spectacular dent in the roof of a parked Toyota. Gunn
took them straight home, not hurrying; they were sure
they hadn't been seen, but they couldn't afford to be
stopped.

Angel told them what had happened, while he was
cuffing himself onto the chain around the back seat.
The scent of blood had been easy to track and had
taken him straight to the captain's office on the
third floor. The captain had been at his desk, had
pulled his gun the moment Angel had mentioned Granath,
emptied most of a clip into Angel's chest, and then
he'd pushed aside a filing cabinet and led Angel right
to the hidden room. You'd have thought the captain was
a zombie too, the way the fight just fell out of him
when Angel destroyed the statue. The other cops in the
building still kept all their fight though, and Angel
had taken another shot on the way out. Wesley called
Anne and then Rondell and told them that Angel had
destroyed the statue; both asked him if Angel had run
into any trouble, and he said no. Rondell was going to
spend an hour driving the precinct, looking for any
sign that the zombies were still around; he thought
they should do another night's watch from the
hiding-places too, before they gave the all-clear.

Angel stayed lucid through most of the drive home, but
had to be guided up to the apartment. The
hallucination probably began soon after they started
patching him up, but they didn't realise until they
finished with his back and got him to turn over, and
then they saw he was rigid from fear, not from pain.
They agreed afterwards that they shouldn't have been
surprised. OK, so Angel had already had one
hallucination that night about being in hell, when
he'd woken up in his chains in the back seat of the
car; but they shouldn't've assumed he was kept to some
kind of ration, or that it could only happen when he
was in chains. The hallucination in the car had been
short (just over four minutes and then he shut down)
but he was still deep in the second one when they left
him, after they'd finished undressing him and managed
to get him under the covers. They both hoped he'd soon
be able to sleep again and that his dreams would be
peaceful, give him some escape.

Rondell called Gunn on Saturday to tell him that the
zombie seemed to be gone: he'd had the crew watching
for them all of the previous night, and the surest
sign had to be that some of the regular cops were now
back on the streets.

"Good work, man. Bet you're bustin' to get back on
patrol, though. None of us really made for standin'
watch."

Rondell laughed. "You too." Then, curious: "Tip-offs
with you, isn't it? Don't even have to patrol."

"Well... last-minute tip-offs. Other extreme."

"Guess it takes both. Call you tomorrow morning, yeah,
if we're shapin' up for the game of pickup?"

Gunn told Wesley the good news about the zombies, if
he hadn't already gathered from hearing Gunn's side of
the conversation.

"They're talking to you again. Your crew." Wesley
sounded even more relieved and pleased than Gunn.

"Starting to. Not ready to say your name to me yet,
but starting to."

Wesley smiled and shook his head. "I don't blame them.
I'm the reason you're... not there anymore. That's too
much to make up for."

"Nah. Couple of games of pickup with 'em - maybe just
the one tomorrow - and they'll remember how much of a
pain in the ass I can be, have 'em lining up to thank
you for gettin' me off their backs."

Wesley started to give the smile that Gunn expected,
then something went wrong. "Pickup?"

"Yeah, they still play on Sundays. Seemed the best way
of keeping things moving. Can't leave it all to Anne.
Why, we got something planned?" Wesley shook his head,
but still looked withdrawn, and kind of puzzled. "You
got some beef with pickup?"

Slowly: "No. No. That's excellent progress, if they've
invited you to join them. I would never have predicted
it a week ago."

"Me neither. But somethin's bugging you."

Wesley looked at him, then sighed. "It's too stupid to
be worth telling you. But I think I'd rather have you
knowing that..." Another sigh. "That I'm capable of
coming up with such utter nonsense that just has to be
ignored. Rather than having you waste a second of your
time trying to guess at something that would make
sense."

Gunn couldn't help grinning, loving how this man could
surprise him with the things he thought, with the
words he used for the things he thought. "Can't wait."

"Well... I really am pleased that you're talking to
your crew again. It's... haunted me that you had to
make that choice." Gunn nodded, to show that he
understood and believed. "But when you said 'a game of
pickup' I suddenly had this image of you... going back
to your crew." He rubbed the heel of his hand against
his forehead, while Gunn's mouth dropped open. "And
you don't have to say anything because that image
doesn't come from anywhere. The only thing that's
bothering me is... not understanding my own thought
processes."

Deeply sceptical: "A game of pickup?"

"Yes, exactly. If you'd said you were going to patrol
with them once a week. Or join them for weapons
training..." A shrug. "And I'm simply glad, and
relieved. But pickup..." He shivered. "I'm still
getting the image. Ridiculous."

A long, long silence, then Gunn said, "C'n I take you
to bed? You won't let me say anything..."

Wesley's nod said, "God, yes!", and they stood up and
pressed themselves together, and had their hands under
one another's shirts before they reached the bedroom
door. They didn't get to the bed, not that first time,
didn't get more than a few inches away from the door.
More than anything, they struggled not to break the
kiss, used the door for support while their hands were
tugging at belts and knots, working together first to
get Wesley's pants down, then Gunn's. They didn't
break the kiss when Wesley slid his fingers into his
mouth, when their tongues were almost fighting, both
so fierce with the need to get the fingers wet. The
kiss was nearly as fierce after Wesley had taken his
fingers out, but then it froze on a gasp when Wesley
parted Gunn and slowly started pushing into him. After
Wesley was full in, Gunn got his fingers wet the same
way, and pushed into Wesley just as slow and deep.

They ended up on the floor. Maybe still in the same
kiss, Gunn wouldn't be surprised. They got rid of
their clothes in a lot of stages, long gaps in
between, and when they were finally naked they lay
entwined and quiet, their mouths closed, just barely
touching. Eventually, though, they felt the carpet and
a chill, and they got into bed.

"I shouldn't even ask, should I, if you're OK with me
playing tomorrow?"

Wesley shook his head. "The rational part of me - such
as it is - was always OK."

"I'm glad you told me. Even though you thought it was
stupid."

Wesley smiled and drew himself even closer. "So am I."

Rondell did call on Sunday morning, and Gunn drove off
to meet the crew at the Venice courts soon after he
and Wesley had eaten lunch. As he'd expected, he got
more than one person asking him if he was looking to
come back to them, always put just enough as a joke;
they probably all had different reasons for asking,
but none of them took it any further after getting his
"Oh yeah, any day now." Gunn might have had more
problems with keeping his temper if he wasn't also
dealing with the fact that any mention of the idea of
"going back to his crew" now seemed the quickest thing
to get him horny for Wesley. Mostly, though, he
enjoyed the game, enjoyed it for the exercise and the
sun and the company like he enjoyed the nest-building
with the boys; didn't matter, anymore than with the
nest-building, that part of the reason he was there
was to get something done.

He got back to the apartment around four, full of
energy and confident about finding Wesley ready and
waiting to be taken back to bed. He ran up the stairs,
and was turning the last corner when he heard Wesley's
voice, above and close, and tense and urgent.
"Charles? Don't come up. It's happened."

Gunn stopped where he was at the bottom of the last
flight of stairs. Wesley was standing at the top with
his back to Gunn, his gaze fixed at some point along
the hallway, and with a crossbow held to his side.
There was a second crossbow leaning against the wall
by Wesley's leg. "Oh, Jesus. When? How long have you
been here?"

"About an hour. No, don't come up yet. I need you to
go to the trunk of the car and get the crossbows.
There should be two. And some stakes."

"Got it." Gunn ran down to the car, got the crossbows
and four stakes, and ran back. They lined all of the
spare crossbows against the wall, and Gunn got into
position by Wesley's side, ready to hand him the bows
when the time came.

"Did it happen when you were chaining him? How far did
you get?"

Wesley shook his head and Gunn heard him swallow.
"It's worse than that. There wasn't any vision. I was
at the desk reading. He was in the room with the door
open, he'd been very quiet. Then I heard him moving
around. Suddenly at first, then slowly. Deliberate.
Though I didn't think of it like that at the time. And
then he said..." Swallowing again, then very slowly: "
'Fee, fie, foe, fum, I smell the blood of an
Englishman.' And he was coming towards the door. Even
if I hadn't heard the words, I would have known it was
him from the tone of his voice. I was running before
he was even in the room. I didn't look back. And the
other things he said, before I could get out..." A
tight, shaking sigh. "I thought I knew but... Nothing
can prepare you for that. For what he'll do with what
he knows."

"What did he say?"

Wesley just shook his head, then after a short silence
he said, "I keep thinking... For most of the time
after you left I'd been reading on the couch. If I'd
been there instead of the desk... What you'd've found
when you -"

"Don't, Wes." Gunn touched his hand gently to Wesley's
back, but kept his tone very firm. "I don't hear
anything. Are we sure he's still in there?"

"I would have heard it if he'd gone out of one of the
windows. He wouldn't attempt that, anyway, not during
the day. He'd be jumping straight into direct
sunlight."

Gunn nodded. "So what'll he be doing?"

"I don't know. Waiting inside the front door, I
suppose, in case we're stupid enough to go and check
on him. He was making quite a lot of noise for the
first ten or fifteen minutes. Then nothing."

"Breaking things?"

"Tearing books, I think. I'm fairly sure we still have
a computer."

"Have you tried talking to him, since he went quiet?"

"Several times. The first time he - I think he was
pretending that he was Angel. So he could... take a
different attack. The times since then, there's been
nothing."

"So we wait. Until he talks to us."

Gunn couldn't hear any sound at all from the
apartment. If it'd been a human sitting in wait for
this length of time, you'd have heard him shifting
position, at least once. Scratching or sighing or
something. With a human, you could use a mirror to
check inside the door, get a look without having to
get too close. Were they going to both stay here when
the sun went down? Or should they split up, have one
outside covering the windows? And if so, which one?

"This is what that vision was warning us about, isn't
it? That one of him in Prague."

Wesley nodded. "It must be. And it did make us put the
crossbows by the door. If he didn't know I was out
here with them... He'd be miles away by now."

"Yeah, but just until he changed. Then he'd make his
way back. So that's - Oh, God. Unless the vision was
warning about more than this? That he won't change
back this time?"

Wesley took a deep breath, then said, "Yes. That's
possible. Very possible, since this happened without a
vision. In which case there's no point in waiting
here. We have to go in. And we should do it before
sunset."

Gunn went first, a couple of yards ahead of Wesley.
They were gambling that the fight Gunn was going to
have with Angelus would last long enough for Wesley to
get in position for that crucial shot. Gunn was
expecting Angelus to be out of sight behind the door,
knew he'd have to leap into the room if he was going
to avoid getting jumped, but Angelus turned out to be
in plain view, the first thing Gunn saw when he got in
range of the doorway. Angelus had moved the armchair
over to the front door, maybe ready to wait for hours
for Wesley to do the stupid thing, but he'd had fallen
asleep while he waited, and he was wearing his human
face in sleep.

Wesley stood at a safe distance with the crossbow
while Gunn very quietly got the net, a pike, and the
handcuffs. Angelus showed no sign of waking while Gunn
covered him with the net, or when Gunn hauled the
chair around to face into the room. The route to the
bedroom could have been clearer - Wesley's chair,
right in the way - and getting Angelus to even start
moving in that direction... Well, standing in front of
him jabbing with a pike wouldn't have been Gunn's
first choice of technique. But Angelus would have to
see that Wesley was ready to kill him if he didn't
co-operate, and he was smart enough to play easy for
now. Save the fight for another day.

Wesley said quietly, "Wake him up," and Gunn stabbed
with the pike, an inch or more deep into the pale
stomach where the black shirt hung open.

Angelus jerked awake with a snarl, though he still
kept his human face. He saw Gunn and lunged at him,
arm moving up to deflect the pike, but the net brought
him short almost immediately. A few seconds of
surprise and realisation and then he vamped up in a
blaze of rage and started tearing at the net.

"Make one move to take that off and I'll kill you."
Wesley's voice wasn't loud but it was hard and clear,
and Angelus paid attention. He stopped struggling with
the net, stared at Wesley like he was sizing him up,
did the same with Gunn, and then slowly lowered his
arms.

Gunn said, "When I tell you, you're gonna walk slowly
towards me. I'll tell you when to take each step. If
you make just one move on your own, we'll kill you.
You understand?" A nod and a growl. Gunn took two
steps backwards, came up against Wesley's chair like
he'd expected and pushed it out of the way with his
right leg, keeping his eyes fixed on Angelus. "Take
one step forward now." Angelus took the step and the
net moved with him, rasping and clattering as it was
dragged over the back of the armchair.

When Gunn finally had Angelus lined up with the
bedroom door, he stepped to the side, into a patch of
sunlight near the window. "Now you're gonna walk into
that room. Take the next step now." He got Angelus in
and past the bed. "Now turn ninety degrees to your
right. Now take one step forward. Next, when I tell
you, you're gonna sit down on the bed with your back
against the footboard and your legs kept straight out
in front of you. Move slowly, starting now." Angelus
kept on doing what he was told, not even giving those
low growls any more. "Next, you're gonna move your
arms back, through the footboard. Yeah, you're gonna
have to make some slack in the net to get your arms
back that far, and you're gonna do that by pulling at
the net a bit at a time, so you're pulling it back
over your head. Small movements, you're gonna keep to.
Nothing more than an inch at a time. And you'll keep
your hands down by your side at all times. Start now."

The process was laborious and Angelus started growling
again. A different growl, lower but tighter, like he
was past the haze of anger and he knew now just what
he was going to do to them. When Angelus had finally
got his hands far enough through the bars of the
footboard, Gunn motioned to Wesley and they both
entered the room and took up positions either side of
Angelus's back. Gunn got the cuffs on quickly, no
problems working them through the holes in the net,
and so they soon had Angelus how they were used to
dealing with him: chained into the frame of the bed.

They backed away into the living-room. Gunn gestured
that he was going across the room, and left Wesley
standing guard by the door. Gunn went first to the
desk, where he wrote a message for Wesley saying that
they needed to put a spyhole in the door so they
didn't have to stand open guard day and night, because
Angel might take days to come back and after this
they'd have to keep him locked in all the time. No
point putting it off, so he was going to go straight
to Home Depot to get all the equipment. Next he put
the notepad with the message on the seat of the
armchair, fetched the spare crossbows and put them on
the seat, and then pushed the armchair over to just
behind where Wesley was standing. He held the message
up for Wesley to read, Wesley nodded, and Gunn left
immediately.

-----------------------

Rather read Kungai in HTML or PDF? See http://www.kelper.co.uk/kungai