for cala_jane in Cordelia round at hetfic_minis. She wanted Cordelia/Gunn, with Wes, weapons, and whiskey. (Hope you don't mind the threesome? ;) No whiskey, though, sorry)
A/N: set in the summer between s2 and s3
"I stink," Cordelia announced unhappily but matter-of-factly when they dragged themselves into the hotel. "I don't know if you guys noticed or not, but you do too," she added, wrinkling her nose, and rubbing at the hem of her shirt. "Eew. Demon goo. Ruining my best clothes since 1997."
She turned to look at the guys, still rubbing off the purple substance. Wesley coughed, and she paused with her hands hovering over her breasts.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Like it's something you hadn't seen before."
"I'll put away the weapons," Wesley volunteered, already half-turned.
Gunn waited for a beat longer. "I'll go check on our Rapunzel." At Cordelia's look, he sighed. "Locked in a tower. Long hair." He paused, taking offence at her expression. "Hey, I read."
"Yeah, Grimm fairy tales. I think it even qualifies as research."
He shrugged, muttered something that could have been 'fantastic', and could have been 'whatev', and hopped up the stairs, taking two or three at a time.
She looked after him for a moment, then turned to Wes, who was taking his time cleaning the weapons before putting them in their respective holding places. "Do we know what cleans out that particular demon goo?"
Wesley didn't even look up. "Somehow, it was not mentioned in the description. I can't imagine what caused this gross oversight, I can only guess that the author was more concerned with the ways one can kill the beast, not clean up afterwards."
She rolled her eyes. "No need to dig into your sarcasm resources, thanks." She glanced at the shirt. "Another one down, then." She sighed miserably, contemplating the sad fate her clothes tend to meet after every hunting trip. She considered investing into clothes she would not mourn if they got chewed on, or exploded on with purple goo. Those croc shoes, maybe.
"What's a gravitational singularity?" Gunn asked, joining them again, and Wesley shrugged.
"A place where quantities used to measure the gravitational field become infinite," he offered, and Gunn shook his head.
"Great, 'cause I wondered. It was going to keep me up at night otherwise, like those song lyrics you know you know, but you can't remember?" He took in their looks, and grinned. "Fred is fine. I mean, she said she's fine, but it was in a stream of words I mostly didn't understand, so I'm not exactly sure. But she ate the tacos."
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Which leads me to, can a person live solely on tacos? Because I think we're close to proving that's a yes. Could lead to a scientific breakthrough." She stood up, tilting her head. "Alright. I am off to take a shower. Anyone interested in joining me better hurry up."
Gunn gave her a long look. "I thought we said it was a one time thing."
"Ah, no," Wesley offered. "We agreed we won't mention it again. Not that we won't do it again."
"Yes, thank you, do you have a footnote to that citation, too?"
Cordelia smiled slightly. "Let me break it down for you socially-challenged, before you blow your chances with me. In ten seconds, I will be taking off my clothes and standing under the stream of hot water. Anyone interested in joining me, maybe helping me wash those hard to reach places, better hurry up." And with that, she turned, still smiling, and started up the stairs.
Gunn and Wesley exchanged glances. Then, as if they practiced, they turned on their heels and raced upstairs.