Back at the flat, pretending - or not - that everything's fine.

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

Continued from here.

"Sounds good." Spike slumped onto one corner of the couch and kicked off his boots.

Comments

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

Spike stared at the bottle, not opening it yet. "Not being able to do a bloody thing about it."

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Wesley wasn't sure what he thought the worst part was -- there were so many -- but the sheer helplessness of the situation was definitely high on the list. He sighed again. "It doesn't seem possible that those memories are just... gone. For good."

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

"He could be lying." Spike rolled the bottle in his hands and then opened it. "If you want some, you should come over," he said, gesturing with the bottle before taking a swig. The alcohol burned going down, a welcome fire to soothe some of his frustration.

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

"Do you think he is?" Wesley asked, getting up and moving over to the couch to sit beside Spike.

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

"I don't know," Spike said, taking another long swallow before offering the bottle to Wesley. He needed to numb his anger quickly before he expressed it in the wrong way. "Do you?"

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Wesley took the bottle gratefully. "No," he said. "No, I don't think he was lying." He took a too large swallow too quickly and choked a bit as it went down the wrong way.

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

Spike reached over to rub Wesley's back as he coughed. "Take it easy. Don't want to waste any," he said, giving him a faint smile. Even just that brief touch was difficult for him to end, since the contact was a physical reassurance that not everything in the world was completely bollixed up, and his hand lingered longer than was strictly necessary.

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Spike's hand on his back was comforting, and Wesley smiled back at him. "No, I think we're going to need it all," he agreed.

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

"Yeah." Spike sighed, idly tracing the shoulder seam of Wesley's jacket with his thumb. "If he's not lying, do you think there's another way to get those memories back?"

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

"Honestly? No." Wesley handed the bottle back to Spike and leaned forward so that he could shrug out of his jacket, tossing it over onto the chair he'd just vacated. "At least, everything I've seen so far leads me to believe that they're gone. But still... I suppose there's a small chance there might be a way."

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

Staring across the room, Spike took a drink, then another. "You should've let me hit him," he said in a low voice that was unable to disguise his simmering anger.