Subject: [BA_Gutter] FIC: Together Again 13/25 Date: Thu, 24 Jun 2004 14:06:44 -0000 From: "sunnyd_lite7" Title: Together Again Author: SunnyD_Lite Spoilers: Follows 'Tangled Webs' which has spoilers to Shells, then goes on its merry way. Rating: PG but there is Spike language – you have been warned. Disclaimer: Joss, ME, Sanddollar, and other corporate types own every conceivable copyright and interest in the characters. They stopped playing with them, so I thought I would. No profit, no foul, right guys? A/N: First off, hugs and doughnuts to my betas Pattyanne and Desota_hia_873. They made sure my ideas resembled sense. This piece will make more sense if you've read Tangled Webs, now on the sandlot. Feedback: It's like chocolate! More is always better. CHAPTER THIRTEEN Gunn looked around his apartment. He'd rented furnished, mostly to save time, but now it looked like it would save him money as well. Only a few things to move, if he did decide to move. He ran his hand over the modern white sofa. He'd thought it looked like the consummate LA bachelor pad, too bad he'd never had time to make use of it as such. He kind of wished that Gwen could have seen it. It wouldn't have impressed her, but it would have helped his pride a bit. She'd introduced him to the power of good clothes. She was one of the first to chide him on his self-depreciation schtick that had become a second-nature defence against the brains in the office. He'd taken care of the paper work ready, a notice to landlord and getting the numbers for the utilities, pending a final decision. He hadn't the foresight of Fred. No financial planners had been playing with his salary, but he had been socking it away, despite the occasional robot purchase. He now had a choice to make. Stay with Angel or leave. He wanted to be valued for ALL that he was. Damn, he was sounding like those chicks who write into advice columns. When had a whiner taken up residence in his brain? He sat on the sofa and looked out at his view of the city. The team HAD to work it out. Now that everyone knew the score...or did they? Illyria hadn't been there. Fred might not know what had happened with Connor. He shrugged. Wes would do the spell over, that's all, and before the group 'pow-wowed'. Too many decisions had been made with too little information. That was the first thing that had to change. Could it? Or was Spike right when he said it was all fubar-ed? Things still weren't right. The way they all reacted to Angel's visions, merely watching him lay there in pain. It wasn't right, but it had felt so damn good. Not the basis on which to augment trust and esprit de corps. Gunn shook his head and snorted. Lawyer language. He still wasn't used to it coming out of his brain, out of his mouth. Could he go back to mere muscle? Should he start his own team? How had Wesley done it, when he'd be… exiled was the only word which fit. But English had always been there, even if he grumbled, he'd been there for the group who'd not only abandoned him but also had pushed him out of the lifeboat in the first place. And they'd repaid him poorly for that. One of the other 'features' of the upgrade was the ability to see many perspectives. Harder to be righteous when you could see the other's point of view. Was there enough to salvage? Cordy had been their heart and her visions were their purpose. Leadership had always hovered as a silent undeclared tug of war between Angel and Wes. What would Spike add to the mix? And for himself, could he continue as they'd been? Did he want to? The good fight was satisfying. He liked being able to put body and mind behind the task. Could he ramp up the strategy or was that a case of too many chefs spoiling the broth? Did they have enough Indians for the number of chiefs? Could he add another metaphor to the mix? He laughed at himself; he wasn't even using TV references now. Questions he had a-plenty. And, unlike the questions he'd had while his stomach was healing, no objective answers. His fate would depend on what the others wanted, what agreement would be made. An agreement, now there's an idea. He rolled in around in his mind, trying it on for size. Something like a shareholders' agreement, with everyone's role set out, obligations and benefits, how to add people and how people could leave- it might simplify things. Nah, the team would never go for something so legalistic. They were the very definition of rag-tag. Couldn't hurt to put the idea forward, though. Their responses would answer more questions than cross-examination would. He'd know what was possible, and sometimes that's enough. Back to the Bat Cave. There were visions to decipher, demons to catch and a team to glue together. Time to see what the future would hold.