By Fabrisse
Giles/Wesley | PG-ish
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I just want to play with them.
"By 1:37 exactly, Giles." Wesley was being his usual asinine self.
"No, I will not sleep with 3 people of your choosing within the next 48 hours and be finished 'by 1:37 exactly'. It is immature and puerile. Besides, I like to have *some* say as to whom I, as Buffy would put it, knock boots." Rupert Giles was looking terribly stern.
"Oh, All right. 2 of my choosing and 1 of yours. But it must be serially no getting around it by group sex." Wesley was practically panting at the idea. "Besides, if you don't pass this test you'll never be reinstated by The Watcher's Council."
"Right. You're trying to tell me that this came from that bunch of dried up husks? Not bloody likely."
"No, I just had to test your stamina, fortitude, and 'interpersonal skills'. The form of the test is my choice. All they'll see is whether or not you passed, and I'm the only grader. From the reports of your younger days, I wouldn't have thought you were that, shall we say, discriminating."
"The things I'll do for a job." muttered Giles. "I get the right to veto one of your choices as well."
"I suppose so," Wesley pouted. "but only once. So be careful. It could always be worse."
~ End ~