Disclaimer: I don't own Wesley or Illyria, or anything else. Joss Whedon and the WB do.
A. N.: I wrote this in the span of, oh, 15 minutes. It's meant to be funny! Also, let's just say Illyria still has her ability to cross over into dimensions and whatnot, K? Hope you enjoy!
When You're Married To An Old One
A Wes/Illyria fic
"You were absent for exactly 2 hours and 22 minutes, in accordance with your time system."
Wesley sighed. The grocery bags in his arms seemed that much heavier as the god in the living room complained yet again.
"We've been over this, Illyria. I had to get food. You may not 'partake in the bodily ritual of processing deceased organisms', but I do."
Icy blue eyes glared at the human. "I grew restless with your nonattendance, so once more, I observed the picture box."
"Which soap opera did you watch today?" Wes half-smiled.
"There was lying and deceit, much death, and hardships over who was carrying a loved-one's offspring."
"Uh, you'll have to be a bit more specific."
Illyria tilted her head, missing the mild sarcasm. "Days Of Our Lives."
"Ah." Wes set the bags on the counter and began unloading their contents. There was a long silence, then she spoke.
"We never talk anymore."
Hanging his head and taking a deep breath, Wes ignored the groceries.
"We talk plenty."
"You've ceased inquiring about my day. We never take walks in the park, or wonder about which shade of blush would highlight my cheekbones."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Where's the annoying yet charming human who used to hold me on those cold, Los Angeles nights?" Illyria strode over to him. "I remember going to the theater! And watching the stars to predict which ones would explode. Now you work all day and tell me to stay home. I don't even get to play with the talkative half-breed anymore!"
Wes whirled around, hands held up in front of him as if to ward off her tirade. "Just hold on! When we got married, I told you things wouldn't always be flowers and sunshine."
"No, you said they'd be 'drunken stupors and animal sacrifices'."
"Whatever. The point is, I can't spend every waking moment with you."
"I have needs, too!" Illyria snapped. Wes gave her a disbelieving look.
"Your needs include me buying you shoe polish for your incredibly chunky boots and giving you backrubs on the ceiling!"
"Is that too much to ask?"
The Old One turned from her husband. A minute later, Wes heard little sobs coming from her direction.
"Are you crying?" He asked.
"No." Illyria sniffed.
Wes sighed again and went to put his arms around her. "I'm sorry, my little Smurf. I haven't meant to be so busy lately. It's just that Angel and I have this case…"
"I know, I know. The grumpy half-breed with no self-esteem needs you."
"Yes, but not all the time. Tell you what: next week, I'll take off of work and we'll go on vacation. Anywhere you want."
Illyria turned to face Wes again, her blue eyes sparkling. "Can we go to Oblar 9? The acid and lava pools are excellent this time of year!"
"Of course." Wes kissed her forehead. "I'll go call Angel right now."
He headed toward the phone, while Illyria walked over to the counter. She glanced inside the bags, then looked disapprovingly at Wesley.
"You forgot the milk."
A. N.: I wrote this in the span of, oh, 15 minutes. It's meant to be funny! Also, let's just say Illyria still has her ability to cross over into dimensions and whatnot, K? Hope you enjoy!
When You're Married To An Old One
A Wes/Illyria fic
"You were absent for exactly 2 hours and 22 minutes, in accordance with your time system."
Wesley sighed. The grocery bags in his arms seemed that much heavier as the god in the living room complained yet again.
"We've been over this, Illyria. I had to get food. You may not 'partake in the bodily ritual of processing deceased organisms', but I do."
Icy blue eyes glared at the human. "I grew restless with your nonattendance, so once more, I observed the picture box."
"Which soap opera did you watch today?" Wes half-smiled.
"There was lying and deceit, much death, and hardships over who was carrying a loved-one's offspring."
"Uh, you'll have to be a bit more specific."
Illyria tilted her head, missing the mild sarcasm. "Days Of Our Lives."
"Ah." Wes set the bags on the counter and began unloading their contents. There was a long silence, then she spoke.
"We never talk anymore."
Hanging his head and taking a deep breath, Wes ignored the groceries.
"We talk plenty."
"You've ceased inquiring about my day. We never take walks in the park, or wonder about which shade of blush would highlight my cheekbones."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Where's the annoying yet charming human who used to hold me on those cold, Los Angeles nights?" Illyria strode over to him. "I remember going to the theater! And watching the stars to predict which ones would explode. Now you work all day and tell me to stay home. I don't even get to play with the talkative half-breed anymore!"
Wes whirled around, hands held up in front of him as if to ward off her tirade. "Just hold on! When we got married, I told you things wouldn't always be flowers and sunshine."
"No, you said they'd be 'drunken stupors and animal sacrifices'."
"Whatever. The point is, I can't spend every waking moment with you."
"I have needs, too!" Illyria snapped. Wes gave her a disbelieving look.
"Your needs include me buying you shoe polish for your incredibly chunky boots and giving you backrubs on the ceiling!"
"Is that too much to ask?"
The Old One turned from her husband. A minute later, Wes heard little sobs coming from her direction.
"Are you crying?" He asked.
"No." Illyria sniffed.
Wes sighed again and went to put his arms around her. "I'm sorry, my little Smurf. I haven't meant to be so busy lately. It's just that Angel and I have this case…"
"I know, I know. The grumpy half-breed with no self-esteem needs you."
"Yes, but not all the time. Tell you what: next week, I'll take off of work and we'll go on vacation. Anywhere you want."
Illyria turned to face Wes again, her blue eyes sparkling. "Can we go to Oblar 9? The acid and lava pools are excellent this time of year!"
"Of course." Wes kissed her forehead. "I'll go call Angel right now."
He headed toward the phone, while Illyria walked over to the counter. She glanced inside the bags, then looked disapprovingly at Wesley.
"You forgot the milk."