Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (
prodigalwatcher) wrote2009-01-13 09:35 am
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One Small Step ((RP for
_freaksrus))
The world was still full of demons and vampires, monsters that prowled the alleys of the city in the wee hours of the night and monsters that put on suits and ties and made decisions involving hundreds of millions of dollars and tens of thousands of lives and ordered Vietnamese takeaway for lunch downtown. There would perhaps never be an end to the fighting, and the struggle, and Wesley had come to grips with that a long time ago, even before his friend Angel had learned that lesson at Wolfram & Hart. What mattered, as he'd told the vampire once, was the little bit of happiness one could find.
And that was why Wesley was standing outside the door of his own apartment, key hovering just in front of the lock, balancing a package under his arm. He glanced back at Gwen, holding her bag and standing what seemed like a safe distance away. Wesley smiled at her.
"You look like you might be a bit nervous," Wesley said, smiling. "You've been through this door before, you know."
And that was why Wesley was standing outside the door of his own apartment, key hovering just in front of the lock, balancing a package under his arm. He glanced back at Gwen, holding her bag and standing what seemed like a safe distance away. Wesley smiled at her.
"You look like you might be a bit nervous," Wesley said, smiling. "You've been through this door before, you know."
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"Well, leather chaps should be easy enough to wear." She couldn't help the slight teasing. "But not everyone can wear leather. You have the attitude for it, that's all that matters."
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There were the two keys burning a hole in her pocket but that wasn't really embarrassing. Potentially terrifying but not embarrassing.
The two tops and a sweater hung next to her leather pants and she bent down to pull out a couple of pairs of shoes. They were placed neatly next to Wesley's. It was oddly domestic and as she looked at the imagery it didn't call up the sweaty palms or clammy skin that she'd thought it would.
Gwen took a deep breath and jumped the chasm, metaphorically speaking, as she turned to face Wesley. "I did bring something extra that might cause you to raise your eyebrows. Just not embarrassing."
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"Well then, unless there's some sort of preparation I need to make, feel free."
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This was uncharted waters for her. Sure, she had Buffy as a roommate and Nic had keys but this was a hell of a lot different.
"They're keys to my place. One for the building and one to the apartment. I want you to feel like it's yours, too." She looked at Wesley, her smile hanging on but barely. Gwen idly wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart. "Shocked? Stunned? Want to sit down?" Her smile grew with the questions. "I want to take that next step with you." A beat, "My house is your house."
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He stepped closer and closed his hand over both the keys and Gwen's fingers. "I'm honoured," Wesley said quietly. "I know how difficult it can be to let someone in, and it means more than you know." Wesley leaned in for a kiss, then smiled. "It looks like you and I are going to have to get used to the word 'us', doesn't it?"
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"Just the lingerie." She waggled her eyebrows holding the last of her clothes that she'd brought. "Or lack of it." Now that she'd crossed the hurdle of giving the keys and the world hadn't imploded, Gwen was back to being her relaxed self.
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Once packed, the closet door and drawer closed on their own. "Thank you, Dennis," he said to the air. "So, I suppose a night in is the proper celebration. I have delivery menus somewhere around here."
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As he rose, Wesley looked over his shoulder, glad that domesticity could have interpretations that were anything but staid and boring.
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"How does scrabble sound? I hear that takes up a lot of time. There's also Monopoly." Gwen turned her attention back to Wesley with a smirk as she teased him. "I'd say charades but I'm pretty kick ass at that and It would be over too quick." A beat. "Of course we could always play strip chess if you're up for it."
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"Probably not the latter," he answered. "My chess games go for hours."
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OOC: And scene?
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