not so gentle persuasions, part iv

[slayedthedragon]

 
[After this]

We join our heroes in mid-argument. (Not hard to do, since they've been bickering for hours now.)

"...I can't believe you're hoping Illyria will break us out of here," Angel is accusing.

"I never said that," Wesley is protesting.

"You almost did."

"Did not."

"Did too. And even if you didn't, you were thinking it."

"So were you."

Angel huffs. "She'd just leave me here to rot. You're the one she's obsessed with."

"She is not--."

"Just like you're obsessed with her."

"I am not--," Wesley glares. "You're trying to distract me from the fact that you, a Champion, need an Old One to save him."

"No I don't. I have a plan."

Wesley's eyes widen in hope. "You have a plan?"

"...Working on one."

Wesley eyes him. "Do let me know when I should start holding my breath in anticipation."

Angel looks away and makes a face at the wall.

"So," Wesley sighs.

"So," Angel sighs.

SMASH goes the wall.

The dust settles.

"You are both useless."

--------------------------------------------

Needless to say, Lofar has had plenty of time to make his escape, so the only thing Team Angel has to show for their Big Takedown is a certain musty odor that seems to linger wherever Angel or Wesley happen to be sitting.

"So now what?" a disgruntled Gunn is asking, doing his best not to wrinkle his nose at the smell, because it would look pretty sad if he did, and the way Charles figures it, Team Angel is looking sad enough as it is.

"We forced Lofar to change his plans. That'll have to be enough for now."

"That's a lame-ass 'win' to settle for."

"We'll find him," Angel snaps. "He just got lucky this time."

Illyria gives Angel a look disdainful even by her standard. "Perhaps, next time, you should hire a minion to drive you to its lair."

Angel barely manages not to wince.