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Untitled Angel/Giles ficlet
Author: Magarettt
Summary: Post-Not Fade Away

"Of honourable reckoning are you both
And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long." -- R&J, 1.2.4-5

“—but it was only Mountain Dew.”

“I see.”

Angel put his head in his hands. “Cordy woke up, kicked ass, kissed me, and died.

“The Jim Henson demons came to town – my nose came off – that’s when Nina and I got together. She’s a werewolf. I mean, she’s an art student. Pottery. Fabulous pieces.

“Gunn turned a little evil, a lot lawyerly. He let a sarcophagus be shipped into the firm that infected Fred with some kind of dust that turned out to be the essence of an ancient god with time warp powers until we zapped her with a big laser and then she was just really, really strong – Spike was dust for a minute – he still thinks he’s a champion – Lindsey came back from hell and Gunn went in his place, which meant that he got his heart cut out every day – literally, not the Buffy kind of getting your heart cut out – we left him there for a few weeks, there was so much going on and Wes figured he deserved it, not that Wes . . . Wes wasn’t vengeful, but he loved Fred, a lot, and there was Illyria – that’s the name of the god that killed Fred, she’s really blue and great at kicking Spike around – Wes had to watch her . . . look after . . . her, Illyria, because she didn’t understand the human way of things and I’m fairly sure that she loved him, and beating up Spike doesn’t take her mind off . . . that.

“I’m still mourning my infant son and then Cordelia, Fred, Wes, Gunn – Lorne is gone. I’ve looked; I can’t find him.”

Giles took all this into account. Still, he asked, “Where are Spike and the, uh, blue creature that looks like Winifred Burkle?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where is Wesley’s body?”

“We burned it. Illyria took the ashes.”

Giles bowed his head slightly.

In a small voice, Angel added, “And you, you put me on hold twice.”

Neither man spoke for several moments, during which time Angel’s mind was blank and Giles’s was rife with images of Wesley being . . . loved . . . by a blue demon.

Naturally, Giles grew uncomfortable first. He broke the silence when he opened a drawer and took from it a tarnished silver cigarette case.

“And Wolfram & Hart?”

“Earthquake, lightening, dragon.”

“Dragon?”

Angel sighed. “And demons. In an effort to kill . . . the ex-CEO. ”

Giles set the cigarettes on the table and slid one out. Then he pushed the case towards Angel. When the vampire removed a cigarette, Giles offered him a light.

“I apologize, ” he said.

Angel nodded solemnly.

The cigarettes’ tendrils of smoke met as each flowed upwards.