By Harmonyfb

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He'd spent the last year hating the guy. Betraying Angel, hell, all them, was the worst part, but then there he was, all puffed up like he was better than everybody else, that stupid grating accent, and worst of all, he'd made moves on Fred. Tried to work that nerd mojo, and even if Fred was smart enough to give it a pass, it just pissed him off. Always made him feel stupid; he didn't have a fancy degree, just a GED he picked up along the way. Shouldn't have bothered him, he always had enough smarts to get by on, but it did. Wes and his la-di-freaking-da manners, and he just couldn't leave it alone. Picked at it, like a sore place that your Momma tells you to leave alone. Except he couldn't. Didn't. He picked and picked and picked till it built up all kinds of disgusting pus-equivalent, ready to explode all over the first person who poked him.

He snuck a glance at Wesley, running along beside him, an easy smile on his face. All those bad feelings, that bad blood between them? What a waste, and all over some girl. Gunn grinned happily back as he put on a burst of speed. Man, he was glad those days were over. Now it was all good.

***

He hadn't been truly comfortable around Gunn for a long while. The entire unpleasantness surrounding Connor, naturally, but it wasn't only that. That merely provided the excuse for all the class-conscious baggage Wesley carried within himself - sometimes in a disturbingly literal way - to be indulged. The public-school snobbery that he found whispering inside him whenever he had to explain simple concepts, whenever Gunn missed what he saw as blindingly obvious conclusions had been given free reign for some time now. He supposed it was good that he was aware of his shortcomings in that regard, but that didn't lessen the sad fact that, measured against Gunn, he was always found wanting. He couldn't hope to match Gunn's free-and-easy manner, the man's apparent disregard for authority, the way in which Gunn related so well to his comrades-in-arms. Made it doubly painful to see Fred so obviously drawn to it.

He'd tried to shunt it aside, ignore it as he had before. But it had eaten at him. Not good enough. Never good enough. Not for his father, not for the Slayers he was supposed to guide, not enough for Angel, or for Fred. Not good enough to inspire anything but rancor in the man that should have been his brother-in-arms. Gunn's confident gaze swept over him, and he smiled, adjusting his stride to match. Well, all that was water under the bridge now, thank heavens. No more ridiculous displays of rivalry, no more competition. All through.

***
They were very near their target. Didn't need enhanced olfactory skills to track this one; the trail was easily read. They moved through the city, ever lower, eventually underground. No surprise there, it's where all the lost things went.

Gunn looked at the small sewer grating shoved to one side, exposing a drop to the disused wastewater tunnel below. "What do you think? Follow it out and wait at the other end?

Wes considered, glancing at the packed earth and darkness stretching before him. "No," he said, finally, "there could be dozens of side routes between here and there. We need to act quickly, or she could get away from us again. We'll have to go down after her."

"Let's do it."

They dropped softly to the ground, their flashlight beams penetrating very little of the surrounding darkness. "Man, I'm starting to think we should have brought bigger flashlights."

The pencil of light traveled across the walls. "You may be right," said Wes, stopping to glance back at the circle of light. "If we go much further in, we risk getting lost ourselves. Perhaps if we -"

Gunn silenced him with a gesture. "You hear that?" he whispered. They could hear the steady drip of water, the hum of traffic somewhere in the distance, the skittering of rodents in the corners...and beneath it, the unmistakable sound of labored breathing.

Wes motioned Gunn to one side, pointing their lights away from where they heard the noise. Stooping, he grabbed a rock and threw it down the tunnel, waiting patiently for the echoes to fade. The pause that followed was deep and long; they could hear their hearts pounding, the anticipatory tympani leading up to the main - ah! There. The breathing, which had quieted, grew louder, accompanied by the sounds of movement. The little rabbit was leaving her hole. They hefted weapons, flashlights, and waited. Finally, they heard the scrape of her foot as she emerged into the main tunnel. They smiled.

****
Didn't hardly need any words at all. Gunn never knew that him and Wes could be this smooth together. It was like they understood each other perfectly, knew what each other was going to do. It was right, and he wasn't going to let Fred screw it up for him. He balanced the flashlight beneath his arm as he readied the crossbow.

***
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gunn readying himself for the confrontation; stood a bit straighter himself. Felt good, to be wanted, needed again. To be part of something larger and better than himself. It was, honestly, what he'd always wanted. He'd grasped the brass ring at last, and found that it was better shared. No one, not even Fred, was going to take that from him. He drew his sidearm and took careful aim, speaking as the footsteps cleared the tunnel threshold.

"We don't want to hurt you, Fred. Please, walk slowly toward us, and let us take you back."

***
When she made a break for it, they weren't surprised, and they didn't hesitate. The weapons were loud in the cramped space. Their ears rang, and their eyes teared from the smoke.

They stood over her body for a long time, her blood running in rivulets through the hard-packed earth. Wesley laid a comforting hand on Gunn's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know you loved her."

Gunn looked down at his lover, and his voice was soft when he spoke. "You too, man. I know you cared about her. "

Wesley's smile was sad, but genuine. "I did."

"You think Jasmine will be mad that we didn't bring her back?"

Wesley thought of the goddess that waited for them to return: perfect, forgiving, beautiful. "I think - I think everything will be all right."