Cutting Cards

"My turn!" Wesley called out, hurrying towards the office as soon as they entered the lobby.

Behind him, Cordelia rolled her eyes. "You two are *both* suck dorks. Have I said that, lately?"

Angel grinned. "But we have fun. Hey! Did you draw yet? What'd you get?" He left Cordelia in the lobby, and ran to Wesley. Wesley had the cards out and was shuffling them, eyes carefully turned ceiling-ward.

They'd made the cards several weeks ago, after one more evening spent sitting around wondering what they wanted to do. It wasn't that they lacked for ideas -- they just couldn't decide what appealed. So they'd finally taken a deck of playing cards, and written on them.

Each card now had a noun, verb, or phrase written on it in clear, precise handwriting. Whenever they had free time -- without other plans they could actually agree upon -- they drew from the deck.

Angel wasn't sure they'd *meant* to include so many cards that lead to them having sex. But perhaps Wesley was right, and it was merely that they interpreted the cards a certain way. But how else were you supposed to interpret "take a nap together"? The cards didn't say anything about waiting until you were *tired*.

Wesley was drawing a card, now, and Angel hurried up to peer over his shoulder. He turned it face up. King of spades.

"Comfort?" Angel read aloud.

"That's what the card says." Wesley looked at him. "Well. Comfort me." He grinned, cheekily.

Angel shook his head. "There's nothing wrong with you. You didn't even get bumped into, during that fight."

"I was traumatised," Wesley said.

"Oh, you were not. We ran in, stopped, saw the two-foot tall demon making trouble, and we proceeded to scare it to death."

Wesley gave him an amused look. "I found it very traumatising. It resembled a And I dislike mushrooms."

"You love them. Try again."

Wesley thought about it. Finally he said, "I broke a shoelace?"

Angel looked down. "I don't see--"

"Not this pair. Obviously I couldn't wear them if one of the shoelaces was broken."

"Ah. I see." Angel nodded, deciding that this was probably as good a reason as he was going to get, and he may as well go with it.

He did have to ignore the snort of disbelief, from Cordelia.

"Go home, Cordelia!" he called out.

"Believe me, I'm going! *Someone* has to leave a note for our client, though, to expect an invoice," she called back.

Angel looked back up at Wesley as he heard Cordelia finally moving towards the front doors. "So. Broken shoelace. That must have been...painful?"

Wesley rolled his eyes. "*Traumatic*."

"Ah." He nodded. Emotional hurt, then. That was good - he liked that sort of comforting better. it didn't remind him so much of inflicting the pain in the first place. "It must have been awful. To just... snap like that. With no warning." He put his hand on Wesley's arm. Comfortingly.

"It was," Wesley agreed, nodding. "Very...unexpected. Blind-sided me, really."

"You need to sit down. Better yet, why don't you come upstairs where you can relax. Get away from everything."

Wesley smiled at him, broadly.