wesleynotponcy | Room 504, Laaaaaate Wednesday Night

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Room 504, Laaaaaate Wednesday Night

Wesley couldn't quite clamp down on the small pained noises that rose instinctively in his throat as he made his way agonizingly slowly up the last set of stairs to the fifth floor. It just figured, didn't it, that his room would be on the top floor when he was in this condition. Well. At least it wasn't too far from the stairwell to his room.

He limped the few steps to his door and unlocked it. He knew that he would have to do inventory of the injuries later, but right now he was focused rather single-mindedly on making sure Katniss had enough food and then collapsing in bed. He rather hoped he'd find her sleeping -- he didn't much fancy the idea of her seeing him like this. It would just be another piece of evidence that he wasn't equipped to take care of someone.

[[For the mockingjay. Up early for probable eventual SP.]]

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Oh, thank god.

"Nor I," Wes breathed quickly, relieved. Before he could think about possibly not blurting out stupid things, he added, "But I--"

Only then did it occur to him that it was a stupid thing to say, but he finished anyway, "I -- that is to say, I don't, er. Necessarily... mind it."

At all. As Katniss might be aware of, what with the lap situation.

"Me neither?" she said, and yes, she had sort of...noticed that, but as much as Katniss had been biologically educated, she really didn't know what to do. She'd barely gotten as far as 'kissing is fun and we should do it more often.'

"I'm...it's very new. I've, um, never...I mean, you know. When would I have found time to do this with anyone before you?" she said, laughing softly as she leaned her forehead against his.

"Right, of course," he conceded with an awkward little smile of his own. Whereas he'd kissed Cordelia twice and both times had been abysmal, but it didn't seem like good manners to mention that, especially since it'd never reached anywhere near this point. "It's -- well, not exactly something I was trained in," he laughed softly.

"Not part of Watcher training?" she asked, smiling softly. "I'm so surprised."

And cracking jokes! Would wonders never cease.

"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it's never come up before," he admitted softly with a smile, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing gently. "It doesn't seem like a terribly common issue."

With a bunch of old repressed Watchers? No, probably not.

"But -- this is fine?" he checked again. "I'm not doing anything wrong, or...?"

"No, no," she said quickly, eyes going a little wide. "No, Wesley, you're -- this is perfect. I'm just...new. I'm not hurting you again, or...doing anything you don't like?"

She had no idea.

"No, this is... it's wonderful, actually," he admitted, almost shyly. Even though he felt guilty about it immediately afterward, for a moment he was grateful that Katniss was as light as she was, because this probably wouldn't be manageable otherwise.

He searched for a moment for something to say, then settled on, "You -- I -- your hair smells nice."

Oh, Wes.

"Thank you?" she said, hiding a smile (poorly.) "I hadn't really worked on it, but thank you."

A little shyly, she added, "I might start wearing it down more."

"I do like how it looks down," he offered. "Or -- in the braid. Either. It's, ah. Nice. In general."

He could stop at any time. Really.

"Are we really talking about my hair?" Katniss asked, and now she couldn't hide her laughter. Giggles, really. She wasn't laughing at him, but at both of them. "Is this what s -- what this reduces people to? Talking about hair? No wonder Finnick was able to keep so many lovers without putting forth much effort," she teased lightly. "We're ridiculous."

Wesley was going to be a gentleman and not notice that slip there, Katniss. You're welcome.

"I suppose so," he admitted with a smile, though that didn't stop him from reaching his unoccupied hand to run through one of the soft waves. In a teasing tone, he offered mock-charitably, "What would you like to talk about, Katniss?"

She smiled, recognizing that teasing for what it was. Katniss leaned back a little to survey him. "You. How are you feeling? And who is this girl, and what are your objections to my finding her with an arrow?"

Oh, of course she'd pick the lamest topic ever. Figured.

"I'm all right," he promised. "Really, I... couldn't imagine a better welcome-back." Despite feeling a bit awkward about it, he dropped a quick kiss on her forehead, then added, "Unfortunately, although I wouldn't object, I think the security at the prison might have some objections."

See? No need to be concerned! Faith was in jail and it was all better! Well, you know, for a few more seasons.

"She's in jail?" she asked, eyes wide with interest. "For what she did to you?"

...he'd really liked the kissing part better.

"Actually, for other things," he admitted. "She's actually got a fairly substantial criminal record, by this point. Some murders. Assaults. She -- well, she actually turned herself in this evening, after... everything. So I suspect she'll be there a while."

Or else he would have Things To Say to the LAPD, that was for sure.

"Did she turn herself in because she was upset at what she'd done to you?" Katniss asked, narrowing her eyes a little. And yes, she'd liked the kissing better, which was why she wasn't being entirely cold during this line of questioning. Her hand was tracing along a wound on his chest, fingertips light as she checked for damage while...well, just touching him. She'd missed it.

"That's the working theory," he replied, still running his hands through her hair. (Admittedly, he was maybe prioritizing badly when it came to this whole freedom-to-touch thing. Her hair was hardly his top choice for just... touching. But it was a start.)

"She was, er. Working on me. And Angel, my colleague, came in, and they fought -- actually, at one point they flew out a window -- and by the time I got down there, she was crying and he was holding her."

That didn't actually thrill him, for the record.

"Working on you?" she repeated, because she hadn't quite understood his injuries' origin until just then. "She was -- oh, Wesley."

And cue a much softer kiss, her hands flying up to gently cup his face. She didn't know what else to do. She'd never been tortured. Peeta would be more useful than her in a conversation, yet again.

The trouble with this touching thing was that it made it harder to avoid her eyes when he was embarrassed. His eyes fluttered shut for the duration of the kiss, but then he opened them again, ashamed and utterly at a loss for something to say.

"I'll kill her." She didn't know what to say, but that seemed like a start -- to go with what she immediately thought. "If she so much as treads a toe out of that prison, I'll shoot her through her eye before she has a chance to bat either of them in your direction. Oh, Wesley, I'm so sorry," she murmured, her voice serious, though it cracked on that last word. "I'm so sorry. I wish I...I don't know, that I'd gone with you and not been a bird."

"No," he said firmly, squeezing her hand. "If you'd gone... I couldn't have dealt with it if she'd touched you."

That came out emphatic enough to surprise even him, actually, and it showed on his face that he hadn't realized how strongly he felt.

"It wasn't anything you could have prevented, regardless," he added, more softly now. "You remember Cordelia? Faith knocked her out in an instant, with just her elbow. All while she was -- er, working, I was just immeasurably grateful that you weren't there for her to hurt as well."

"I could've shot her without her ever seeing me," Katniss maintained, shaking her head. "I got away from Clove, when she wanted to do the same to me, I could have helped, I...I just wish there was something I could do."

She was touched by how emphatic he was on that point, but at the same time, she couldn't stand this much...uselessness. "Why didn't this Angel person hurt her? He was holding her?"

"I think he sees a bit of himself in her," Wesley admitted softly.

Not like that was disturbing or anything.

"He -- well, really, it's a fairly involved story, but there was a long period when he also... hurt people. He's changed, of course, and he's been good for quite a while, but I think he recognized her despair. He wanted to help her heal."

Which was why he'd bought her donuts the next morning, the bastard.

"She sounds like she's beyond healing," Katniss said flatly. "She needs help. She needs to be locked away and have her brain fixed. A hug won't help anything."

Not big on forgiveness over here, no.

"Nor donuts," Wesley agreed darkly. Damnit, Angel.

"Actually... that's what Buffy said," he added then, a bit more thoughtfully as he leaned back against the headboard. Well, except that Buffy had seemed to determine to win the Who Can Be Least Rational About Their Ex game, whereas Katniss was making a much more credible argument. "Have I told you about her?"

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