Close Encounters of the Mongoose Kind
Notes: For someone who wanted Giles, Wes, and a mongoose.
"No, it's a Deviviavivfifvif. I'm quite sure."
Giles continued to face the demon, not bothering to glance over at his companion who, he was also quite sure, was rolling his eyes.
"It's a mongoose, Rupert," Wesley said in that dry voice he'd somehow cultivated in the years since they'd first met.
"It is seven feet high, has horns, and is breathing fire," Giles pointed out. Again. He pushed himself back even farther into the wall he and Wesley were currently trapped against. He'd had no weapons to fight with, when the demon appeared, and Wesley -- dear god, how the man had... grown.
Wesley had first pulled out a pistol and shot the demon several times. When that had failed to do more than piss it off, Wesley had drawn a sword from his wrist. Or possibly his shirt sleeve, or a pocket dimension riding around on his watch.
Giles had spent that entire part of the fight watching someone who was not, in any way, similar to a blueberry scone.
He wasn't sure what had happened to Wesley since he'd left Sunnydale dear god so many years ago. But he was determined to find out -- once they'd dispatched the Deviviavivfifvif and got to safety. A drink, some talk, then perhaps he'd find out if the stories he'd heard from Wesley's father were true, and his son was a nancy-boy pervert.
Giles glanced over to where Wesley was crouched beside him. He'd lost his sword and had no other tricks up his sleeve but one. He'd used his cell to call Angel, and now they were waiting for the calvary.
Wesley said, still quite calm, "I realise it has horns, is breathing fire, and is six foot seven inches high. But it hasn't any blue spots on its tail. Therefore, it is merely a mongoose."
Giles looked at him. "Merely a mongoose?"
"Well, it's been turned into a large, fire-breathing, horned mongoose, obviously," Wesley said. He gave Giles a glare which made Giles shiver.
Before Giles could say anything, the mongoose-demon-whatever's head disappeared in a shower of sparks. Wesley stood up, and Giles followed a moment later. Angel was standing there, holding a small black box in his hand.
"You guys all right?" Angel gave Giles a look, very unsubtly sniffed the air, and gave Giles another confused look.
"We're fine," Giles told him.
"Yes, now that it's dead. Thank you," Wesley dismissed him, turning to face Giles. He said nothing for a moment, then simply, "Come on." He began to walk away. Giles followed quickly.
"Um... but... hey, Wes--"
Wesley looked over his shoulder. "Unless you want to join us in Rupert's hotel room?"
It was frightening how long it took Angel to decide.