Wesley sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time since coming to work for the vampire. No matter how hard he tried to prove himself, he always came in second best. Wesley silently berated himself.
If he calls me Doyle...once more...just once more...I'll...I'll...I don't know what I'll do but it won't be pretty. He looked up as Angel slunk back into the room.
"Wes, we're done for the night. You can head in," said the vampire quietly.
Not looking at the immortal, Wesley pulled on his jacket. At least he didn't say I could go home... there's that much. Nodding to Cordelia, he headed to his apartment. Ahhh, another fun-filled evening for the rogue demon hunter, he thought as he checked the vcr. He'd set the clock earlier to be sure it would record his favorite program, "Sabrina the Teenage Witch." Cordelia had been quite impressed that the clock no longer flashed 12:00, like hers and Angel's. He shook his head, remembering her stunned disbelief at his ability to program it. When she'd asked how he'd done it, he'd had to bite his tongue to refrain from telling her to RTFM. He couldn't even begin to imagine the look on her face if he'd actually told her to read the fucking manual. Sadly he remembered these were his only friends.
Pacing into the kitchen the ex-watcher yanked open the fridge. He stared into its mostly empty depths, wondering how long the jar of coffee had been in there. Shrugging, he walked back to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. Pressing play he settled in for a night of mindless laughs. Barely fifteen minutes in he dozed off. He never saw the eerie green light emanating from the vcr.
Sabrina laughed as she watched Salem work himself into a frenzy. In revenge for his many tricks, her aunts had created a spell designed to drive the warlock turned cat batty. Everytime he tried to sleep, the song would start and the mice would appear. At first it had amused Salem, but after a hundred verses of "Three Blind Mice" it was driving him nuts.
"Sabrina," the black cat whined, "make it stop. I'll do aaanything."
Sabrina grinned, here was her chance. "Even wear the flip flops Harvey got you for your birthday?"
Salem shuddered, sometimes...well most times, he couldn't understand what Sabrina saw in the goofy mortal. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes, and there were the blind mice he still couldn't catch. "All right, yes. Anything," he cried desperately.
With a smirk, Sabrina settled at her computer. Quickly she logged on to the Witches On-line Database. It made it so much easier to find related spells, well except when the stupid links didn't work. Turning up her stereo she surfed the net as music flooded the room.
(I hate everything about you! everything about you!)
See, Salem, my aunts wouldn't be so bad if you just changed your attitude.
(Someday I got a bad attitude, but that don't change the way I feel about you...)
Sabrina's fingers paused over the keys. "This looks interesting."
"What?"
"This website. Madam Helen d. Emons Multiverse Vcr: Vcr's & Instructions. Yah know I still haven't figured out how to stop that stupid 12:00 from flashing." Sabrina tried the first few links, then muttered when they didn't work. One last link then back to Salem's problem, she thought. Clicking on the link that read Programmed VCR's, she blinked in confusion, then gasped as the green light ran up her fingers. "Salem," she yelped as the light grew brighter.
Salem watched helpless as a swirl of neon green light surrounded Sabrina. Before he could call for help, the light flashed, blinding him, and she was gone.
Wesley woke abruptly when a large *moving* object landed in his lap. With an unmanly yelp, he launched himself from the couch. A blonde head shot up from the flurry of limbs. Wesley briefly wondered how Buffy had gotten into his apartment. Taking a closer look he realized it wasn't Buffy, but it couldn't be who he thought it was.
Sabrina glanced around frightened. She was in a dingy apartment, and she wasn't alone. Righting herself, she turned to look for a way out. Seeing only more doors, she turned to the other person in the room. Sabrina stared. She'd been prepared for a warlock, maybe an evil witch, heck even a Roland, but not the adorable hunk staring at her as if he'd seen a ghost. She quickly ran her hands down her body making sure she was still solid, the last time was bad enough. Looking up she realized the cute guy wasn't going to be making conversation anytime soon. Sighing she held out her hand.
"Hi, I'm Sabrina.
He stood staring at her for several minutes, when she finally began to drop her hand he spoke.
"Wesley Wyndham-Pryce." And I've gone round the bend, he thought, silently chastising himself for talking to a hallucination. When she grabbed his hand he nearly yelped, but controlled himself.
"Listen," said Sabrina, glancing around, "It's not that I don't like the place or company, but how did I get here and how do I get home?"
Wesley shook his head. "I really couldn't tell you. I just set down to watch Sa... a show that I progammed to record. I must have fell asleep. Then poof here you are."
Almost laughing in delight, Sabrina realized what had happened. "You know how to program your vcr?"
Wesley cracked a grin, "Yeah," then pointed in its general direction.
Walking over to it, Sabrina examined it, noting the almost faded markings on the back. "Where'd you get it?"
"Pawn shop. Owners said it came from some place called Helen's or something."
Sabrina's smile grew. "I think I know what happened. I was surfing the net, when I found this site called Helen d. Emons Multiverse Vcr's etc. I was trying to figure out how to program my vcr and clicked on the only working link called Programmed VCR's, then this green light surrounded me and whoosh I'm here."
Wesley dropped onto the couch shaking his head...only to me. "Well, that explains how you got here. But how do we get you back?"
Sabrina watched him, wondering. "You seem awfully calm about this."
Wesley shrugged. "I've seen stranger things. Now, I think I have an idea on how to get you home."
"How?"
"Well, we just do what you did. If that doesn't work we try it in reverse."
"Sounds like a plan to me."
As they slipped into the offices of Angel Investigations, Wesley muttered several long and vicious complaints. Stupid piece of worthless junk, almost a grand wasted, for nothing. He'd never spend that much on a computer again. Pulling Sabrina behind him he eased around Cordelia's desk, then booted up the computer. Depositing Sabrina in the seat, he pulled the offices televison and vcr into the room, hoping he wasn't disturbing the vampire below him. Quickly he hooked his vcr onto the t.v. Turning to shut the office door, he missed Sabrina dropping the tapes onto the floor, and only picking up one.
Wesley reprogrammed the vcr, then slipped the tape in. At the computer he and Sabrina quickly found the website. Following her exact steps, they clicked on the link. Instead of a green light, yellow light shot from the computer engulfing the vcr. Once again a large object dropped from seemingly nowhere, with a startled cry. Sabrina and Wesley looked at one another. It happened again. Moving around the desk, they went to see who had arrived.
Doyle sat up cursing loudly. "'ere ta ’ell am I," he yelled. Wesley gasped. Doyle whirled around to se who was there. Stunned he stared at the vision before him. Mink brown hair fell carelessly around a pale face with dark eyes, a long lean muscled body wrapped in a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt. Doyle slowly licked his lips. And 'ere I tought Angel was sometin'. "Da ya mind tellin' me what's goin' on?"
Wesley shook himself, he was speechless. Doyle. They'd brought back Doyle.
Sabrina looked over at Wesley, looking as if he'd seen a ghost again. Sighing, she knew she'd have to do the introduction's again. "My name's Sabrina, this is Wesley. I was trying to program my vcr, and this mystical website pulled me through to Wesley's apartment. We 'figured we'd try the same thing to get me back, but Wesley's computer went thhpppt. So, we had to come here to where he works, I think it's Angel's Investigations or something. Anyway we set everything up exactly the same except it didn't work. Well, not the way we wanted it too."
Doyle stood stunned by the information flooding him.
Wesley finally shook himself out of his daze. Glancing at the floor he frowned. "Not exactly," he said holding up the tape. "Sabrina, you mixed up the tapes."
Looking sheepish she dropped her head.
"Okay, we'll try this again," said Wesley, sliding in the correct tape.
Doyle grinned. "Once mar from da top."
This time when Sabrina clicked the link, green light swarmed out to engulf her. Waving she called, "Bye, Wesley. Thank you for your help. I'll remember...." and she was cut off as the light flashed a blinding neon green. Once again she was gone.
Doyle glanced at Wesley in silence. Before either could speak Angel came racing into the room. Stumbling to a halt, he stared at Doyle, then did something totally unvampire like, he fainted. The ex-watcher and the half-demon exchanged glances.
"I take it 'm sorta ah surprise."
Wesley smiled shyly, "That's putting it mildly."
Resolving to have this conversation later, together they dragged Angel to his bed. Glancing at the small half-bed, Wesley turned to go up to the office. He stopped when Doyle grabbed his arm.
"'Ta least I can do is offer ta share wit' ya."
Wesley blushed and shook his head, "I wouldn't want to inconvie..."
Doyle cut him off before he could finish. "None a tat' now. Bed." Pulling the taller man with him, Doyle settled onto the futon as Wesley curled around his back. "Now 'tis is more like it," sighed Doyle as they both drifted off to sleep.
Angel sat up abruptly at the sound of footsteps in the office above. He'd had the weirdest dream last night -- shaking his head, he vaugely wondered why he was still wearing his clothes. Stumbling upstairs he fumbled with the coffeemaker, as he tried to make sense of last night. Glancing up at the mumbled cursing, the vampire looked at Cordelia.
"The dork's been messing with the computer."
"Now Cordelia..." Angel began.
"What, he's a loser. You know it, I know it... everyone knows it."
Angel shook his head, "Yeah, but he's a helpful one."
"Sabrinaaa," whined Salem, "I thought you were gonna fix this spell."
Sabrina glanced away from her computer, to Salem, then back. "I will, Salem, I just want to check on Wesley. He was so nice and I want to do something for him."
Salem shuddered. He couldn't understand this affection Sabrina had for mortals.
Sabrina's fingers danced over the keys, as she recited the viewing spell. She grinned as the website vanished, and Wesley came into view. She recognized the offices from her visit there. She leaned forward, turning the volume on the computer speakers up. Salem watched, as Sabrina shot up sputtering enraged. "How dare he...she...they...oohh," she cried.
"What? Sabrina?" asked Salem.
"How dare they be so mean to Wesley," she cried. "That vampire 'is he not approved in the height a villain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my' my friend... O' that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place."
Salem watched worried, as Sabrina paced. He knew whatever it was it had to be serious. She had flown into a Shakespearean Rage.
Sabrina rounded on her computer, watching as Doyle led Wesley away. "O that I were a man for his sake! Or that I had a friend would be a man for my sake!"
Salem watched as the medival clothing slowly faded, and the sword dissappear. It seemed her rage was over. Sabrina stared at the screen watching Doyle and Wesley. Then she grinned.
Doyle stood outside the office shocked, listening as Angel and Cordelia berated Wesley. He couldn't help looking over at the taller man, knowing he had every right to be pissed. He was stunned by the look of pained acceptance on Wesley's face. A wave of protectiveness swamped Doyle. He wanted to pull the man into his arms, and tell him he was worth more than the both of them together. Instead, he grabbed his arm and pulled him back outside the office. Distressed by the distraught look on Wesley's face, he did the only thing he could think of. "Come on, they don't need us now," he said dragging Wesley behind him.
For the first three blocks Wesley followed quietly after Doyle.
"Ummm...May I ask where we are going?"
Doyle stopped, causing Wesley to collide with him. (Not an unpleasant experience) Looking up, Wesley stared at the ice-cream parlor in the middle of the seediest part of the city.
"Tis place is great, comfort food for tose' o' need it. Seein' as I just came back from ta dead and you work wit' two jackarses, I tink we need it." Keeping his hand on Wesley's arm, Doyle pushed open the doors.
Wesley gaped at the interior. It was an honest to god old-fashioned parlor, with boothes, a counter, and a jukebox. Wesley watched as the soda jerks eyes flew open.
"Doyle! You sonofabith. What the hell? I heard you died."
Doyle grinned, "Da rumors of my death...were greatly exaggerated. Just needed to lay low for awhile."
The guy grinned back, "Glad to hear it. What'll ya have?"
Doyle leaned on the counter, "Usual. You, Wes?"
Wesley looked bewildered.
"E'll have a landslide." Catching Wesley's arm again, Doyle pulled him into a corner booth. He stood beside the booth debating, he wanted to feel Wesley's lean muscled body pressed against his, but he also wanted to see the man's face. Deciding that pleasure could wait (but not for long) he sat across from him.
Wesley looked everywhere but at Doyle. He knew what the other man was thinking. (At least he thought he knew.) Doyle watched as Wesley fidgeted. Before he could corner him the waitress arrived. Balancing her tray, she placed a large glass dish filled with chocolate sauce, vanilla ice-cream and nearly every confection from the counter in front of Wesley, then a medium-sized orange sherbert in front of Doyle.
Doyle waited until the waitress left. "Why aren't you pissed at them?"
Wesley shrugged. "They're right, and besides they're my only friends. I am a--"
Doyle cut him off. "No. Tere' not right. Yer a smart, resourceful, attractive man and te aren't yer only friends, I am. ’ell why would you tink sometin' like tat?'”
Wesley shrugged again. "I guess cause... I always believed what my father said... He..."
Doyle cut him off again. "Was a great jackarse, who couldn't see what a wonderful son he had."
Wesley smiled softly, "Really? You think... We're friends?"
Doyle smiled, catching Wesley's hands in his, "Yes... we're friends and from now on yer going ta stand up fer yourself. Startin' wit' Angel and tat twat Cordelia." They grinned at each other, then proceeded to devour their melting ice-cream.
Sabrina and Salem watched as the two mortals talked and flirted.
"They make such a cute couple," awwed Sabrina.
"Yeah. But that Wesley's got no self esteem. I don't think he's gonna invite the Irish kid in," said Salem.
Sabrina grinned, "I'll take care of that." Placing her finger on Doyle's image she whispered a few words.
Wesley shifted nervously as he and Doyle stood outside his apartment. He thought the Irishman was wonderful, he really wanted to invite him in, but was afraid of what he'd say. As he got ready to say goodnight, the sky opened up and sheets of rain poured down just as Doyle sneezed. Wesley acted before he could change his mind, "Sounds like you're catching a cold. You'd best come in. It wouldn't do for you to be out in the rain."
Doyle sneezed again, then smiled. "I'd like tat'. Well, not ta cold but ta come in."
Wesley ushered the shorter man in. Taking the bags from him he pushed the shorter man onto the couch, "Sit... Rest... I'll put these up, and see what we can do about that cold."
Doyle settled back into the couch as Wesley left. Truthfully he didn't feel bad at all, he had no idea why he'd sneezed but he was glad he had.
Wesley hurried back in carrying a blanket, and a medical kit, "Here cover up with this..."
Doyle stood shaking his head, "I'm fine. Just a little--"
Wesley shushed him. "No arguments. You are going to sit here, and let me take care of you and you're going to like it."
Doyle suppressed a grin. It appeared Wesley did have a forceful side, at least when it came to taking care of someone. After Wesley had tucked him in and gave him some cold medicine he headed off to the back room. Doyle listened to him moving around. Stretching he grabbed the remote and turned on the t.v. He nearly yelped when the girl from last night appeared on the screen. He had to bite back a screech when she waved. She gestured at him, and he realized she wanted him to turn the volume up.
"Uhhh... Hello again." Sabrina smirked, "My don't we look comfy."
Doyle blushed. "Ahhh...Wes seems ta tink I'm catching a cold. Even tough' I told him I'm fine."
Sabrina preened. "I know and you are. It was just a little sneezing spell, it should fade in a few hours."
Doyle blinked, "Tat' was you, why?"
Sabrina looked at him, "It didn't seem like you'd get invited in without a little help. So..."
Doyle grinned, "Tanks."
Sabrina grinned back. "Welcome. Just take care of him. Cause I'll be watching."
Doyle stared as her image faded, and was replaced by a East Enders. Shaking his head he turned of the t.v.
Wesley came back out of the bedroom. "I changed the sheets, and found some of my old things. They'll be a little long, but if you want to take a shower, you'll have something to put on afterwards. And..."
Doyle stood, moving toward Wesley, "Shh. I don't really need anything. It's just a little sniffle, and it’ll be gone in an hour or so. And ter is no way I'm taking yer bed wit' out ya in it."
Wesley blushed, turning red, then stammered, "Are you sure... because I could..."
Before he could finish Doyle caught his mouth, silencing him.
Wesley moaned into the kiss as the shorter man wound his arms around him. This was nothing like the fumbling kisses with Cordelia. This was sweet, soft, yet still eager. He hesistantly chased Doyle's tongue back into the other man's mouth, then groaned when he sucked on it. Doyle eased back, placing a soft kiss on Wesley's open mouth. He looked up at Wesley, waiting for him to open his eyes. Wesley bit back a whimper, at the loss of the other man's lips. His eyes drifted open, and he stared at the Irish man, slightly dazed.
"Definetely sure," purred Doyle. "But I should tell you... I'm not all human I--"
This time it was Wesley who interrupted with a kiss, capturing Doyle's mouth in a greedy rush. He nibbled softly at the full bottom lip, sucking it lightly. "I all ready know," he whispered, "and I don't care."
Doyle growled, then backed up swiftly, dragging Wesley into the bedroom.
Salem howled as the screen went black. "SABRINA!! What are you doing? It was just..."
Sabrina swatted at the complaining cat, "We are not voyeurs. I just wanted to be sure they got together. And you can stop complaining or be stuck with those mice forever." Sabrina smiled, her friend had someone to care for him, now. He'd be alright.
"Where is he? We've been trying to reach him for at least a day an a half. He doesn't answer his phone, he hasn't called..."
Cordelia shrugged, carelessly, “Oh please. Dorkboy's probably on his way here. Not like he's got anything else to do."
Angel glanced at Cordelia. She was probably right, the younger man didn't have anyone else.
Wesley stared at the man curled beneath the blankets. He couldn't believe that he was here with him. He'd never had anyone treat him like Doyle did. And last night had been... indescribable. Wesley shivered remembering the slow caresses, heated kisses, and muted groans. He couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather be. Doyle watched Wesley watching him. The taller man had several hidden talents. Doyle bit back a moan as he remembered one in particular. The slow hesitancy of that surprisingly agile tongue, as it danced over his... He shuddered, there was nowhere he'd rather be. Doyle stretched languidly, alerting Wesley to his waking. He smiled at the ex watcher, then quickly straddled him.
"Mornin', my sweet. And just what is't yer thinkin' about?"
Wesley sighed, reveling in the feeling of the hard body above him. "Just the idea that someone like me could be here with someone as wonderful as you."
Wesley was stunned, when Doyle leaped off him. He watched eyes wide as the irritated Irishman grabbed a hairbrush. He was so shocked, he didn't even protest, when Doyle pounced on him rolling him over.
He did, however, react when the brush caught him full and swift on his right cheek, once...twice. He bucked, then yelped, "What the hell?!"
Doyle easily flipped Wesley onto his back. "I will not tolerate you berating yourself. You are just as deserving of me, as I am of you. If I catch you belittlin' yourself again, you'll get spanked again. Understand?"
Wesley couldn't believe it, he stared mouth agape at the exasperated half-demon. He'd never had anyone be upset over him insulting himself. He paused to think about, and decided he liked it. He smiled up at Doyle, "Yes... luv. I understand."
Doyle grinned, tossing the brush aside. Flipping Wesley back onto his stomach, he leaned forward sweeping his tongue over the red mark. He traced the faint outline of the bruise, then kissed it softly. His wet tongue soothed the faint burning. Wesley moaned as Doyle's tongue continued sweeping over his ass. His tongue danced over Wesley's spasming bud. He lapped at it, slicking the entrance with his saliva. His moans grew deeper, as he thrust in tasting the peppery heat of his body.
Wesley whimpered when Doyle's tongue left his body, then he groaned feeling the hard cock nudging at his hole. Doyle grasped his hips, easing his hard length into the tight flesh beneath him. Wes mewled wanting to feel all of Doyle thrusting into him. He bucked back, just as he thrust forward. He howled as Doyle's cock hit his prostate. He wrapped his arms around the watcher's waist, yanking him onto his knees, as he pulled out slowly.
"Please... fuck me... hard... yours... take me..." Doyle growled slamming back into the lean body under him. His hand slipped down Wes's body, grasping the straining penis, in his right hand, balancing with his left. He stroked the length of flesh in time with his thrusts into Wesley's quivering body. Wesley bucked into his hand, then pushed back on the hard dick inside him. He whined softly, not caring what happened as long as Doyle kept fucking him. Both oblivious to the knocking outside.
Angel, Cordelia, and Mr. Pryce stood outside the ex watcher's apartment. Mr. Pryce had arrived at Angel's several hours earlier, planning to collect his disgraced son and take him home. Intent upon teaching him to be a *man* again. Angel, fed up with the pompus bastard, finally decided to take him to Wesley. Not wanting to be left alone, Cordelia tagged along. They'd arrived shortly after nightfall, and had been knocking for the past ten minutes with no answer. Just as they turned to leave, Angel heard something,
"Shhh. Listen." Suddenly they could all hear it. A low wail, that was slowly building up in pitch, until it was a lusty howl.
Then, "Oooh, Wes... so good... so tight..."
"Mmmpph... harder... Doyle, luv... fuck me..."
Angel and Cordelia gaped at each other, eyes nearly bludging. "Doyle!?" they both yelped.
Angel leaned back, delivering a vicious kick to the front door, shattering the flimsy locks. Cordelia hurried in behind Angel, followed closely by Mr. Pryce. The threesome cautiously made their way to the back bedroom. Stunned they stood, jaws dropped, eyes wide. Mr. Pryce sputtered incoherently, Cordelia shrieked covering her eyes. Angel had to bite back a moan, as he watched the two sweat-drenched bodies slide over each other. He tried to ignore the swelling in his groin as he watched Doyle ride Wesley, head thrown back and bodies thrusting.
Mr. Pryce suddenly regained his ability to speak, "What the hell is going on?!!" With that the spell was broken, and Angel and Cordelia's cries joined his.
"Wesley. Doyle, how the..." "Doyle. What the fu.."
Doyle, incapable of speech, only grunted as he continued thrusting into the tight body. Wesley, however, growled deep in his throat, then roared,
"WAIT... JUST ONE FUCKING MINUTE... WAIT!!!"
Doyle screamed, "Wes... Ohhh... god!" as Wesley's body clenched, muscles squeezing his engorged cock. He came, his entire body snapped taunt, hand tightly jerking around Wesley's cock. Wes sobbed, then bellowed, "Yesss... Doyle, yesss..." Cum shot forward coating Doyle's hand, and staining the sheets. Doyle grunted as his cock gave one last spurt, ribbons of semen slid down Wesley's inner thighs. With a sigh and a moan, they collapsed onto the bed.
After several minutes, Wes lifted his head. Doyle nuzzled against his neck before turning to their uninvited guests. He couldn't help the roar of laughter that exploded from him. Cordelia had her eyes screwed shut, hands clamped over her ears, like one of the 'See No Evil Hear No Evil' monkeys. Angel's face was a mask of agonized desire. He could smell the pre-cum leaking off the vampire without even shifting. The best look, however was on the stranger's face. His eye's were bulging, his face was nearly purple, and he looked like someone had kicked him in the balls. Doyle's laughter seemed to break the trance.
"WESLEY WYNDHAM-PRYCE. WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
Wesley sat up his eyes dazed, for a minute, then narrowed in outrage. "What the FUCK does it look like I'm doing, Daddy dearest? I'm making love with the man I love in *my* apartment."
Mr. Pryce's eyes nearly crossed, "Your WHAT?"
"Making love, having sex, FUCKING.... Do I need to go on? Actually, I've got a question. What the hell are the three of you doing in my apartment anyway?"
Cordelia only whimpered, Angel mumbled.
"What?"
"Your father wanted to see you. And when we got here no one answered, then we heard Doyle's name and..."
"Came barging in without a yay or a nay."
Angel looked away sheepishly.
"All of you get the fuck out. We'll be out in a couple of minutes, so either wait or leave."
Doyle watched, biting back another laugh as they turned tail almost running from the room. He turned to a still panting Wesley, grabbing his face he kissed him deep, hard.
"What was..."
"Luv it when ya take charge," Doyle smirked, "So what now?"
Wesley sighed, "What I want to do is see how much of you I can lick clean, but I guess we should take care of our *guests*."
Doyle kissed him again, this time slow, sweet.
"And..."
"For standin' up ta Angel and yer Father. Ta' prick."
Silence reigned in the tiny living room, until Wesley and Doyle entered, the latter wearing a too large pair of Wesley's jeans. Before anyone could speak, the ex-watcher held up a hand. "Doyle is here by accident. I helped a young witch get home two days ago. In the attempt we accidentally pulled him from the past. I explained to him what happened, we finished getting the young witch home, and Doyle stayed."
Angel and Cordelia stared amazed. Then Cordelia stuttered, "B-but were the two of y-you..."
Doyle laughed. "He's a... How'd you put it Cordy... Oh yeah, hunk of salty goodness, no matter wat' ta two of ya tink'. And I took ta first opportunity I got ta jump 'IM."
Wesley looked smug, then turned to his father, "Look, I'm a adult, with my own life. I could care less what you want or think. So, I suggest you return home. You're not needed nor welcome here." Mr. Pryce opened his mouth, but Wesley walked away yanking open his front door, "Goodbye, father. Goodnight Angel, Cordelia. We'll see you in the office tomorrow."
Doyle watched smugly satisfied as they left. The ex-watcher closed the door behind them, then leaned against it taking a deep breath. Doyle wrapped his arms around the taller man's waist.
"Are ya alright?"
Wesley looked down thinking. "Yes. I am," he grinned.
"Definitely and hoping... we can continue what was interrupted."
Doyle looked at him innocently, "Was something interrupted?"
Wes leered. "A night of unbelievable debauchery."
Doyle grinned back. "Debauchery, huh? Din' I guess I should show you what else you can use orange sherbet for."
Wes shuddered, then tugged Doyle towards the back. Stopping in the kitchen, they grabbed the carton of orange sherbet, before running into the bedroom.
With a click the monitor shifted from black to the inside of an apartment. Salem yelped as a hand shoved him off the desk, then turned the computer off after whispering a few words. "No peeping, Salem," said Sabrina as she left the bedroom. Salem sighed, then closed his eyes. At least the damn mice were gone.
END