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Lost Boys	By : Spacey Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Wesley > Angel(us)/Wesley Views: 2496 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own AtS. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Lost Boys
Disclaimers: All hail King Joss and his overlords at Mutant Enemy.
Spoilers: Hum…up to and including parts of Seasons 1-3 of Buffy, 1 of Angel
Summary: There’s a new guy in town, and he needs Angel’s help.
Ratings Note: NC-17
Pairing: Wesley/Angel
Author's Note: I’ve intentionally mangled the events of Season 1 to my liking-so sue me. Wait! Um, just kidding Joss…I’m really a poor schoolteacher so don’t sue. Also, Lost Boys constitutes Part 1 of the Crossroads Series.
Acknowledgments:
Feedback: scarletsfiction@yahoo.com
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Chapter 2

“More tea?” Wesley asked, pouring himself another cup of the steaming brew. He used his right arm, favoring the wounded left arm he’d allowed Cordelia to bandage.

“Oh, yes please!” Cordy smiled, happy to be waited on again after her year of slumming it with the dregs of L.A. After showering, they all felt considerably better and now sat around Angel’s small kitchen table.

“None for me. Tastes like mint dishwater. Didn’t know Angel even owned a teapot...” Gunn tossed back the last of his tea in one gulp, sitting the delicate cup clumsily into its saucer. Wesley winced. Apparently you could take the Watcher out of England but you couldn’t take England out of the Watcher. “So, you train girls to kill Angel, huh?” Gunn eyed the man distrustfully.

“Well not Angel specifically. And no, I don’t do that anymore.”

“What, exactly, *do* you do?” Angle’s quiet interjection startled them. He’d been nearly silent for the entire return trip to the offices of Angel Investigations. Now, he sat apart from the others, silently considering the ex-Watcher.

Wesley shifted uncomfortably under Angel’s scrutiny. “I do…freelance work, mostly.”

“Freelance?”

“Yes, I co—I didn’t return to England after I failed to fulfill the counsel’s objectives in Sunnydale, so I’ve since sought work here in the states were I could find it.“

“Failed at what objectives?” Gunn asked as Wesley placed a well-timed cookie in his mouth.

“You didn’t know? Wesley had a Slayer that went rogue and slept with my ex-boyfriend. Oh, and she killed a lot of people.”

“Thank you, Cordelia, for bringing perspective to my unique and rather pitiful situation.” Wesley grumbled around a mouthful of cookie.

“No problem, Wesley.”

Angel and Gunn were staring at Wesley, expectantly waiting for him to continue. He swallowed.

“I’d been contracting independently as a demonologist and translator, traveling to where my services were required. In two weeks, I had seen eleven states. You do not know the meaning of Hellmouth until you’ve slept in a Cleveland Motel 6. At any rate, I can’t honestly say I knew where I was going--in the metaphysical sense of the word. Rather lost, I suppose….” Wesley trailed off, clearly occupied with his own thoughts. Realizing he still had an audience, he continued, “About six months ago, I met some gentlemen in Barstow that showed me how lucrative it could be to help locate certain demons that…did not want to be located.”

“And that’s why you’re in L.A? To find a demon,” Angel finished.

“More or less.” Angel continued to stare at the man until he finally dropped his gaze. With resignation, Wesley continued. “Three weeks ago, I was approached by a man in Tucson-human{you know what to do}-who had heard of my work. His son had been kidnapped. Strange symbols were found at the scene. The police thought it the work of human cultist, but the father was not convinced. He brought me photographs of the symbols and it didn’t take me long to decipher that it wasn’t cultists or run-of-the-mill human kidnappers. The symbols appear to have been part of a transport spell--and a very powerful one at that. I’ve been traveling the coast for these last three weeks speaking with my contacts, trying to ascertain who had enough power to invoke such a potent spell. Then yesterday I was told by an oracle in Hollywood that the information I was seeking could be found by a vampire that could be found in a very specific part of the Los Angeles sewer system which, as it turns out, appears to be *you*, Angel.” Finally finished, he sat back thoughtfully and allowed the others to digest what he had just said.

“So, your oracle lives in Hollywood? Does she work with any ceitieities or …what? You know you were thinking it, too.” A scathing look from Gunn stopped Cordelia’s slight bouncing.

“I’m afraid I’ve never asked her.” Wesley responded. Cards on the table, he finally addressed Angel. “So tell me, Angel. Do you think you can help me? Or rather, do you think you could help a distraught father find his son?” Angel appeared to consider the proposition. After several seconds passed, Wesley mistook Angel’s reluctance. “He can pay you quite well, Angel. I can assure you. If that is the problem—“

“No, Wesley. I mean, the money doesn’t matter.”

“Speak for yourself, Captain Cheapskate. Someone’s got to keep me in fabulous clothes, and so far it hasn’t been you.” Cordy was already planning on how to spend her cut of the sizable reward they would undoubtedly receive.

“What I mean is…if what you’re telling us is true, then of course we’ll help.”

Wesley released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank you Angel. I’st gst grateful.”

Before they could make further plans, the room began to change. The hair stood up on the back of the human’s necks and an iridescent shimmering began in the air directly behind the small kitchen table where they sat. In moments a portal opened and a woman emerged from its swirling depths. Resplendent in purple velvet, she stood easily seven feet tall.

“Annnnnngel.” The woman purred roughly.

“We’ll continue this conversation later. Don’t wait up.” The vampire crossed the room and joined the mysterious woman at the portal. With an enigmatic smile, Angel stepped through, and in a moment he was gone.

Wesley was more than a little taken-aback, but as he turned to his new companions, he detected no surprise in them. “Does he always do that?”

“Do what?” Gunn asked, helping himself to two, three, well, six more cookies.

“Allow dimension-bending demons to come and go as they please? Leave in the middle of a conversation? Offer cryptic explanations for sudden disappearances?”

“Wow. You *haven’t* been around Angel in a while, have you?” Cordelia grinned. “Yes. He does. As for the mystery woman, that’s Nalana. She’s an associate of ours. Or of Angel‘s, that is. Actually, I’m not sure what she is, but I do know that she should not be wearing purple. Makes her look hippy. She stops by every few days, they leave, Angel returns and broods for a few hours, then its back to business aual.ual. Pretty much normal, actually.” Cordelia noticed the apprehensive look on the man’s face. “Look Wes, we’ll do what we can to help. Gunn’s a fighter and I, um…well, you know, if it’s meant to be then maybe I’ll get a vision or something and help you out. Whatever I can do to contribute to that commission—uh, the rescuing of a poor, lost little boy--I’ll do.”

“What about Angel? I didn’t particularly feel him giving me the warmest of receptions. He seems…distracted. Is it Buffy? Would he prefer that another reminder of his Sunnydale life not be here?”

“Naw, man. It’s not you. He’s been brooding more than usual for about a month. If you waited for a time when he wasn’t brooding, you would have been in that tunnel a long time.” Gunn didn’t hesitate before swiping two more cookies from the jar on the table.

Wesley cleared his throat. “That woman, you said she was an associate of Angel’s. In what capacity does she aide you?”

While Gunn munched his cookies, Cordelia eyed Wesley thoughtfully. People, and by that she meant Gunn and Angel, gave her far tottlettle credit. The brief flirtation she shared with Wesley when they were in Sunnydale and it’s subsequent lame conclusion in the Sunnydale High School library had given her more insight to Wesley Wyndam-Price than the Powers That Be could have. “She’s not Angel’s girlfriend. He’s pretty much resigned himself to the celibate thing so don’t worry about him going all ‘grrrr!’ if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, right. Yes. Angelus. It certainly wouldn’t do to have Angelus hinder our objective. Not when we need Angel to help identify the…uh…” Cordelia was looking at him now.

“Yeah, and it wouldn’t ‘do’ to have Angelus rip our throats out and eat them with a side of sausage, either. Geez, Wes. Transparent much?”

“—what? Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” Corelia sighed.

“I mean, it must be difficult for Angel to…be here and with Buffy only a few hours away...it must be hard—er, not *hard* but…”

“Wes, just stop before Cookie Boy here figures out why you are babbling.” Gunn looked up briefly then continued exploring the depths of the cookie jar. He had a feeling he had just been insulted but didn’t know why. Cordelia spoke privately into Wesley’s ear. “Now, I say we both get some shut eye because, come dawn, I’m going to want a jelly donut, coffee, and about thirty minutes of uninterrupted Wesley Time to find out why it is that you’ve been staring at Angel’s empty chair for the last five minutes.”

Flustered, the Englishman stood up abruptly. ”I’ve not been…I don’t know what…”

“Hum…maybe forty-five minutes... Tomorrow, Wes.” Cordelia also stood and gathered her purse and keys.

“Um, if you’re not going to finish your cookies, then can—“

“—Just take them, Gunn!” Wesley and Cordelia said inson.son.

Gunn popped the prize into his mouth. Cookies and a commission. The New Guy was okay by him. Yep, he could get used to this.

TBC...
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Lost Boys