F A N F I C T I O N > B U F F Y V E R S E
Sandcastles & Rainstorms by Amberina
She was gorgeous. Any sane man's wet dream. And she looked so good in leather. Mm, now this was a car. It wasn't a nice car, though. No, nice cars were nice. This car, on the other hand, was a two-door masterpiece, made of sex and metal. Given the opportunity, Gunn probably would have slept with it. Or in it. Whichever.
Angel had tempted Gunn with it. It was a, "Run my errands, and you can take the car. Yes, the car," kind of thing. Despite the fact that Gunn had piles of cases to go over, he'd jumped at the chance. Who wouldn't?
Gunn glanced to the passenger seat, where Wesley sat, absentmindedly picking at the upholstery. "Nice car," Wesley said, probably just to fill the silence.
Silence was something they had in vast quantities. The two hadn't really had a conversation in quite a long while, due to various circumstances Gunn didn't particularly want to think about while there was only the length of a ruler between him and Wes. Still, the silence bothered him.
They'd been friends. Buddies. "Homies," Wesley had said one night, far too drunk on Zima and centuries-old dust. Gunn had just laughed at him, and later, after their research was done, kicked his ass video game style. Though Gunn knew how they got here, it was still weird to suddenly have nothing to say to the man that had always had his back. To the man he had always had the back of (except when the PlayStation was fired up.)
Gunn tapped his fingers on the wheel as he pulled up to a light. The sound of his fingers, combined with the driving rain on the hood of the car unnerved him a bit, so he stopped. The rain was steadily getting worse. Gunn wasn't really concerned with causing an accident, but some cars just weren't as well-equipped for this sort of weather as Betsy was. (Betsy being what he'd nicknamed the car.)
Sitting next to Wesley also had his nerves on edge. He had a feeling something would go down between them today, and he wasn't really eager to find out what it would be. The last year or so, when something went down between them, it usually ended in blood. They'd gotten better at being in each other's company, but that was usually because they didn't really talk when they didn't have to.
And you know, Gunn kind of missed having a friend around. Angel was all right, but he was Angel - the leader. He wasn't a "friend," really. Not someone Gunn could play Grand Theft Auto with. Gunn liked him, of course - and yeah, okay, he was a friend, but... not like Wesley had been. Fred, she was an ex. A wonderful person, but she didn't really have enough testosterone to satisfy his craving for male bonding. Besides that, there were all kinds of complications that kept him from attempting to hang out with her one-on-one. There was Spike, but Spike couldn't even hold a controller. Besides that, he had a personality as abrasive as a rusty Brillo pad.
Gunn glanced over at Wesley, who was leaning his head against the raindrop-splattered window. He wondered if he even wanted to be here, or if Angel had tricked him. Which, of course, brought up the whole subject of why Angel wanted them both to go. Maybe he simply needed two men, but if he did, he should have just told them. Waiting for them to find out that the other was going when they got to the garage, and the car, definitely smelled of trickery.
Gunn turned, the car tires splashing a puddle up around the car. Any other car might have spun out of control, but Gunn wasn't in any other car. He was in Betsy. He didn't stop to think of how disturbing the analogy was becoming, but instead replied to Wesley's "nice car" comment of at least ten minutes ago. "Weather ain't so nice, though." Oh, great, let's talk about the weather, Gunn thought sarcastically, suddenly wishing he'd kept his mouth closed instead of spouting off such a cold cliche. They definitely needed to talk, though, so maybe this was a good start.
Wesley lazily opened his eyes and glanced out the window. He seemed unusually calm, and almost at peace. It freaked Gunn the hell out. "I don't know. I rather like rain."
"Well, you're not driving," Gunn replied quickly, and then realized it came out angrier than he intended. Good job, get his defenses up so he can pummel you, he thought.
Wesley rested his head back against the window and said calmly, "I offered to drive."
Gunn sighed and ran his hand along the steering wheel, almost like he was petting Betsy. No way in hell would he have let Wesley drive her. That was his bribe, dammit, and if he was going to be crammed into an uncomfortable situation with Wesley? He was glad it was behind the wheel of such a fine car. "I'm just sayin', Angel'd bite my ass if I brought back three-thousand pounds of crushed metal."
He eased Betsy into a parking lot, which was all but deserted. Not really surprising, considering the weather. At least finding a spot was easy. "Well, I'm sure there's plenty of metal where it came from," Wesley said nonchalantly from the passenger seat.
Gunn switched off the engine but didn't move to get out of the car. He looked over at Wesley, who didn't even seem to notice that they'd arrived. "You just don't get it, do you?"
Wesley turned his head towards him, and then he seemed to finally notice that they'd arrived at their destination. He sat up straighter, but still didn't move to open the door. His words were still calm, though, far too calm, as if he was making a very measured attempt to be civil. "Get what, Charles?" His tone gradually changed on Charles, though, and by the time he finished the rather short word it was coated in very British sarcasm.
It'd been a while since Gunn had heard that tone in Wesley's voice. Last year, really, when they'd all but tried to kill each other over Fred's affections. Of course, Gunn felt kind of stupid for it now, but he still couldn't say that he wouldn't react the same way in the same situation if it came up today. Either way, he didn't particularly like when Wesley spoke to him like that. It made him realize just how far they'd fallen.
Gunn slowly pulled the keys out of Betsy's ignition, trying to figure out how he should respond. Or if he should respond at all. He started to say something, but quickly closed his mouth again. Maybe he should just end this and get back to Angel's pseudo-mission. He'd nearly decided on that, when he changed his mind. The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Man, what are we doing?" Afterwards, he didn't regret saying the words - he knew that they needed to talk and not about Betsy or the weather. He still sucked his breath in a little bit, slightly nervous at the various responses Wesley could offer up.
All things considered, the worst response would be something with him recapping what they were supposed to do for Angel. It would be the worst mostly because Gunn knew that Wesley would get exactly what he was talking about, and that sort of response would mean one thing and one thing only: Wesley was through with him and remaining civil was his best hope.
Wesley seemed to consider his reply for a moment, a very long moment, before finally saying, "I... don't know." And in that small, tiny moment, his cold exterior slipped away and Gunn could see his best friend in his eyes again.
Gunn felt a small pang of satisfaction knowing that Wesley was as confused by what they'd become as he was. That was something, you know?
Gunn stroked the door handle for a moment, waiting for any cue from Wesley. When he didn't get one, he went ahead and pulled the handle back. A deep breath and then he stepped into the cold, cold rain. It only took a few seconds for his clothing to be soaked through.
Wesley followed suit, and when Gunn glanced over at him as they made their trek across the beach, he slightly resembled a drowned rat. Gunn tried not to let that distract him from the two tasks at hand - what they had to do for Angel, and what he had to do for himself.
Why Angel had to have them do this on the first day in weeks it had rained, Gunn will never know. It was cool, though. Gunn had been on many a mission that ended up in being drenched in demon goo, so all things considered, this was better. Even if his jeans now weighed a ton.
"Still like the rain?" Gunn called over to Wesley. When the other man looked over at him, he seemed to be having quite a time seeing through the steady sheet of rain that separated them.
Gunn could see, though. And he could see glaring. "I'd rather you didn't mock me, Charles," Wesley said evenly but Gunn could have sworn he caught a small smile.
Gunn scanned the beach ahead of him, and finally, his eyes fell on what they came for. Up the beach stood a rather large sand castle, completely unaffected by the driving rain. That had to be it. "Hey, Wes," Gunn said before pointing towards it.
"Ah, yes, that would be it," Wesley reassured his suspicions. "It only rises out of the sand during intense rainstorms," he explained. That would explain why Angel was insistent this got done today. "Less of a chance it will be tampered with."
"What's it for?" Gunn asked. Each heavy step he took brought him closer to it, and now he could see the incredible detail in it. Far too detailed for someone to have created during a lazy afternoon. It was quite clear this wasn't an ordinary sand castle.
Wesley was silent as they reached the sand castle. Finally he said, kneeling down in the wet sand, "There are rumors of small beings that live inside of it. Small, but incredibly powerful. Some texts refer to their power as the ability to 'give people what they need.' Paraphrased, of course."
Gunn was starting to realize exactly why Angel tricked them into going together, but before the thought was fully formed, he began to run his finger along the top of the sand castle. Bad move, because then he felt as if a hook had been inserted into his navel and was pulling him into the earth. It happened very quickly, and then he was only about four inches tall and a gigantic Wesley was staring down at him. "That is not cool."
"I should have warned you," Wesley's voice boomed. If he wasn't some drowned-rat white man, Gunn might have mistaken him for God. "Touching the castle has a certain effect..." he began to laugh and Gunn wanted to punch him. Unfortunately, he was four inches tall.
The raindrops were huge, and when one landed directly on him, he fell over. "Dammit," Gunn sighed.
"Go in," Wesley said and then he placed his hand on the castle himself and landed next to Gunn, just as small as he was. Gunn promptly punched him in the arm, though not that hard.
Wesley simply looked at him for a moment before standing up and making his way into the castle. Gunn followed.
The inside of the castle could only be described as amazing. While it was made entirely of sand, the detail in the furnishings was finer than that of the furnishings in Gunn's apartment, and since taking his spot at Wolfram and Hart, his apartment was about as far from ghetto as he could have imagined. Before he stepped inside the castle, of course. He'd mutter something about rich people, but it didn't take money for something like this, it took a miracle. Or someone with a lot of power who was very bored.
Or very, very tiny, Gunn corrected himself as he and Wesley turned a corner and came upon what looked like a human little girl. While Gunn was only four inches tall, the girl barely came up to his thigh. She had white-blond hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose. Gunn smiled at her as he did all little kids, and was about to ask her to take them to her parents, when she spoke.
The voice that came out of her mouth shocked Gunn. She sounded not only adult, but male. "Would you like a pina colada to go with your getting caught in the rain?" s/he said in a very somber, almost sad voice.
Gunn and Wesley exchanged a look. Gunn had no idea what to say, so he was glad when Wesley spoke up. "That's quite all right. We were sent here by Angel, he..." Wesley trailed off and looked at Gunn again and Gunn suddenly realized that neither of them had any idea what it was Angel wanted them to ask the beings for.
"Yes," the little man-girl said. "The vampire said he would expect something in return." It turned and began to walk further into the castle. After exchanging another look, Gunn and Wesley tentatively followed it.
"What... exactly did he expect in return?" Gunn asked. Wesley gave him a warning look, but the words were already spoken. The man-girl stopped abruptly and turned around. She - he - it - really, Gunn should stop trying to use pronouns to describe the being - looked at him sharply, directly in the eye. Gunn noticed now that its eyes were an odd golden color - not the sickly yellow of a vampire's eyes, but a rich and warm shade that in all honesty reminded Gunn of the sun.
"I do not give anyone anything they want." It cocked its head and Gunn felt intensely uncomfortable under its gaze. "I will only divulge the things one already knows. I will only give them what they already know they need, provided they do not ask for it." Gunn was about to respond when she - it said, "Do not ask me for anything," firmly.
Gunn would have replied that he wasn't going to, but he was worried that might offend the incredibly creepy little girl-man. Nothing creeped him out worse than evil kids. The Ring scarred him for life. Let's just say that he thanked his lucky stars everyday that he got a massive cat in the White Room instead of that girl they'd met up there the year before.
It was apparently satisfied with his silence, and so turned around and continued to lead them through the castle. The hallway they'd been following had so far been straight, but now it began to wind around, in impossible circles. Gunn didn't know much about floor plans, but he knew that the path they were traveling made no sense. Of course, he was in a mansion made of sand and currently four inches tall. He didn't think he'd get over being four inches tall anytime soon.
Before either Gunn or Wesley knew what was happening, the girl-man was gone and so was the hallway. The open space in front and behind them had closed up, and now they were standing in a very small room with surprisingly firm walls. Gunn knew this because his first instinct had been to pound and kick at them. He only ended up with a sore fist and a stubbed toe.
Wesley simply stood there looking perplexed. "Calm down, Charles. I'm sure this is simply what we're here for. For whatever reason, what we need..." Gunn raised an eyebrow skeptically, and Wesley shrugged. "Or possibly we're being held hostage by a demon in a child's body."
"Which is sure as hell what I needed," Gunn said, and maybe he was being a little more sarcastic than he should have been, but he was creeped out, and pissed off. He wasn't entirely sure who he was pissed off at - himself, for being tempted by Betsy and her shiny metal sexuality, possibly Wesley for existing, and Angel for having them come out here, the girl-man-thing, the rain, the world, Fred for making him so uncomfortable around Wesley -
Suddenly Gunn wasn't pissed off anymore, he was sad. Sad because, in all this time, he hadn't blamed Fred once. Now that he had, he was ashamed. It wasn't Fred's fault, and she didn't deserve his anger or his blame, regardless of whether or not she knew she was the subject of it. It didn't matter; she didn't deserve it. Fred wasn't entirely blameless, but she was simply a factor - it was Wesley and Gunn themselves that held the blame. Gunn knew this.
"Wes?"
Wesley looked at him.
"So if this is what we need, what do we need to do to get out of here?" Gunn ran his fingers along the wall. It was grainy, and slightly damp, but it was strong. He half-heartedly traced "HELP" onto the wall, and then scratched it back out with the tips of his fingers.
Wesley began to feel up the wall himself, probably searching for any trigger spot. Anything that would let them out. After becoming satisfied that the wall was, for the most part, solid, he sat down on the floor of the room. "I have no idea what we need to do."
Gunn sat down himself. The floor of the castle was chilly, hard but strangely comfortable under him. The two sat there in silence for a long while, Wesley seeming to be deep in thought. Gunn spent the time thinking about how he should really say something to fill the silence, while he dragged his fingers along the floor in front of him, doing what could only be described as "doodling." A few swipes of his finger and he had a stick-person that stared up at him disapprovingly. He'd never seen a stick-person look disapproving before, and it made the whole situation even creepier. Gunn wanted the hell out of the castle.
He smoothed out the stick-person and began to draw a car. It was, as much as his meager artistic talent warranted, Betsy. Oh, Betsy. How he longed to be in her right now. For the first time, it struck him how dirty that sounded and he couldn't help smiling down at the floor slightly. Pretty sad when the only thing he lusts after anymore is a car. Of course, a car like Betsy...
"Charles?" Wesley said softly and Gunn looked up. Wesley wore a small smile. "It's not a bloody Etch-A-Sketch."
"No, you shake an Etch-A-Sketch to erase, and there's knobs. This is more like a Magna Doodle." Gunn put the finishing touches on Betsy. She was gorgeous.
There was more silence. Wesley was the first to speak again. "You are killing time as if that's all that's needed to get out of here. We need to figure out what sort of ... " suddenly something dawned on Wes. "We need to figure out what sort of lesson it wants to teach us."
"If we know about the lesson beforehand, doesn't that pretty much invalidate the learning it part?" Gunn said, admiring his crude drawing. He decided to draw him and Wesley inside the car and set to work on that.
Wesley just stared at him.
"What? I'm just sayin'. Why'd Angel want to teach us a lesson anyway? We've been the picture of perfect employees." The picture of himself inside the car was rather ugly, so he very carefully smoothed it out and started over on that part.
"Yes," Wesley agreed, and then added, snidely, "especially with the mental modifications you allowed them to perform on you."
Gunn's finger froze on the floor. He looked up at Wesley. "This has nothing to do with that. Anyway, he tricked you into coming too, so what have you done?"
Wesley was silent. Finally he began, "I just don't think it was very smart to - "
"Oh, of course it wasn't smart. I did it, right? So of course it wasn't smart." Gunn sighed and gave up on his sand masterpiece, wiping it out with his foot and then leaning back against the room's wall. He knew the gang didn't entirely trust him now, but he knew he was still the same guy. Only difference was, he wasn't content to just be the muscle anymore. Besides, if the doctor was to be believed, all they did was download some information into his brain. They didn't change a damn thing he already had. "What about your books? Are you evil now because of the books?"
Wesley studied him for a moment before saying, very slowly, "No..."
"It's the same thing."
"My books didn't come with a direct connection to the Senior Partners via the White Room," Wesley pointed out.
"So what? You're jealous? Wish you could make small talk with the Big Cat?" Gunn knew that wasn't the case, but he couldn't help but say it. And, yeah, okay, maybe he'd be a little uncomfortable around someone that could speak directly to the conduit, but the thing was - Gunn knew he was good. He expected, at the least, for Wesley to realize that.
Wesley didn't answer him, he instead started pressing on the walls again. He looked like he was literally trying to climb the walls. Like a caged animal. We are caged animals, Gunn thought and then he realized something. Maybe that was the whole point. Angel bribing them into going together, alone. The man-child-girl-thing trapping them inside the room made of sand - alone. Together.
Maybe Gunn was crazy, but the whole thing could be about getting them alone. Making them talk. Maybe Gunn had had the right idea on the way over.
"Look, Wes, I know you're not jealous. You're concerned, but you don't need to be, all right? I'm telling you." He offered the man sitting across from him a small smile and Wesley looked at him as if Gunn had grown two heads, and one was named Bob. "I think I get why we're here. And," he hesitated for a moment, not wanting to sound like one of the Lifetime original movies he used to watch with Cordelia, "we should use it to our advantage."
Wesley nodded slowly and asked, almost as if he was humoring Gunn, "And why are we here then?"
Gunn wasn't entirely sure how to answer, and while he was thinking of a way to phrase it correctly, words spilled out of his mouth. "It's been over a year... two years," Gunn frowned, trying to figure out exactly when the estrangement from Wesley began, "anyway, it's been a long time since we've talked, and I think Angel and the girly-man think we need to."
"Girly-man?" Wesley asked and Gunn realized he'd called the creature that aloud. Oh, well, no taking it back now.
"Mary-Janes and a voice like Ben Stein, I think girly-man is an accurate description," Gunn explained, and grinned broadly as Wesley laughed lightly.
"Yes, I suppose it is." Wesley's face went calm again and he seemed to be thinking. "It would make sense."
"What would?"
Wesley sighed, "Everything Angel said, being trapped here, everything. If their objective was to facilitate some sort of meaningful conversation between - "
"We're not lab rats, Wes."
Wesley smiled softly, and this was good. This was what they were there for. "No, of course not."
"Unless this is some weird ass Big Brother thing. Let's trap two men who hate each other together and see what happens!" Gunn chuckled at himself but Wesley seemed taken-aback.
"I never hated you." He said it slowly but firmly and then that was it. He didn't expand on it.
Gunn said awkwardly after a minute of silence, "I never hated you either."
And there was silence again, but this one was more comfortable. It was like they'd gotten over the big hill and now they just had to go down it without falling, which was - all things considered - the easy part.
"I want us to be okay again," Gunn began tentatively and Wesley watched him, his face unreadable. "I want to get drunk over dusty books, and kick your ass in video games." When Wesley didn't say anything, he continued, "I think we kind of need that now. With everything going on at Wolfram and Hart - we're all so busy, and the only time any of us talk anymore is when there's some demon to kill or some sinister plan to stop - which always results in more work and damage-control because the demon was a client, and so is the Mr. Burns in the corner rubbing his hands together and licking his chops like we're dinner." He frowned, and felt one way he definitely didn't like feeling. Vulnerable. He had to continue, though. Forgetting all the rest, if he wanted to get out of there before they starved to death, he had to continue. "I just.. after work I want to have someone to hang with. I used to have someone to hang with, it was you. And... I want that back."
"We've come too far to go back," Wesley said finally, and for once he seemed genuinely sorry for that. He didn't say it, though. Gunn didn't expect him to.
"Have we?" Gunn said it and he wondered if Wesley was right. He knew he wasn't. He hesitated before saying this next part, but eventually it came out, "When we're out of here, we should get some beer."
Gunn looked down at the ground, and felt foolish. Then the other man looked up and nodded slowly, but said, "Angel will wonder what happened to his car."
"I'll get Betsy back to Angel in one piece," Gunn assured him and then he realized he'd actually said Betsy. "Betsy's what Angel told me he calls the car."
He wasn't sure if Wesley believed him, but it didn't matter. And then the walls around them dissolved. The entire castle began to melt into the sand underneath them, and then they were just sitting on the beach, no sign of the girly-man, or anything, other than the ocean waves yards away from them. It had stopped raining, and now the sun shined brightly above them, a small rainbow beginning to form in the sky.
Gunn looked up at it and smiled, and then he stood up and began to brush sand off of his still-wet jeans. It didn't work too well, but it was okay. Betsy could stand to have a little sand in her. He thought about that and promised himself he'd take a vacuum to her as soon as he could.
He and Wesley began their trek back up the beach, towards the parking lot and the car. This one was also made in silence, but it was a calm, comfortable kind of silence. When they reached the car, Gunn dug into his pocket to fish the keys out and pulled a small piece of folded-up paper out with them. On the paper it said, in incredibly neat handwriting, Tell the Vampire he owes me now.