by Jessie

Summary: Gunn's point of view about an unexpected incident

Disclaimer: 'Angel' and its characters aren't mine. Hope no one minds that I take them out to play once in a while.

Spoilers: Up to the beginning of the third season, but before "Fredless"

Authors Note: Yeah! My second Angel fanfic! I'm getting good at this ;) Hope every one likes this one. And, as usual, I'd love some feedback.


I really didn't mean for this to happen.

Really. You gotta believe me. If you don't believe me, than Wes and Angel never will, and then where does that leave me?

I really, really, *really* didn't mean for this to happen.

It's like this, see - I was just minding my own business, staking out the territory, right? Checkin' for vamps, demons, and anything else that could give a guy nightmares. And - well - it wasn't my fault.

Now, I'm not the kinda guy who looks for a scapegoat in every situation. I know when something's my responsibility and I stand up to it. Ya get me? But this - this wasn't anywhere *near* my fault.

First of all, there's the moment to think about. There are a lot of true screw-ups out there that can be blamed almost solely on the moment. This is one of 'em.

Second of all... well, there's that 'moment' thing again.

I really didn't mean for this to happen.

Yet... here I am.

I guess this just goes to show how bad things can happen to good people more times than I have digits to count 'em on.

Not that it was necessarily a bad thing...

What am I saying? This kinda attitude is not gonna go over well with the guys. I need to shape up. Think about something else, Gunn. Think about anything else. Just not... her.


I'm screwed.

Not that I wasn't before. Hell, I was screwed from the moment I set foot into her room.

Not literally, of course. I know what you're thinking.

And don't go thinking it's my fault again just 'cause I went into her room. I had to. The girl's gotta eat, right?

So here's how it was, right? I was staking out the place for vamps and other beasties: makin' sure everything was safe and sound for our 'newly-re-introduced-to-this-dimension' girl upstairs, when it occurs to me that I haven't had a hot meal for about twenty four hours.

Not only that, but Fred's probably just as hungry, seeing as how Angel and the others hadn't bothered to check on her since morning.

So I figure it's time for dinner. And any vamps or M'Fashnik demons or whatever that I may have missed can just hold their breaths until I've had my fill of french fries.

So I take a trip to the nearest fast food joint, right? Grab a couple of burgers, fries, and drinks, figuring a girl who's starved in a hell-hole dimension for five years isn't gonna be picky about what she eats, and head on upstairs to her room.

Now, this is where it gets interesting. And listen closely, 'cause ya just might miss how this *isn't* my fault.

So I go up to her room, and, even though I got my hands full with food, I manage to knock, since my mom didn't raise me not have any manners.

And I hear one of those quiet, little "come in"'s that she always gives us instead of actually opening the door, probably 'cause she's scared or something. Which I can respect. And I open the door and say my "hello"'s and "how ya doing"'s and offer her to have some dinner with me, which was a totally and completely innocent gesture. I just thought she'd be hungry, and - well - who likes to eat a late dinner alone?

So we're sittin' there, talking and eating like we've been buds for years now, even though we just met not a few months ago. Which is kinda nice, since that sorta thing doesn't really happen to me very often. Growin' up where I did, it was hard to find some one who hadn't already judged me by the time I walked through the door.

Anyway - we're sittin' there- not actually in her room any more, 'cause there wouldn't be a place to sit if we were in there. That place is a mess. So we moved our little party down a couple doors.

Not that it was really very much of a party. We ate our greasy food, talked about stuff like vampires, demons, hell dimensions - you know - the usual. Then... well... 'it' happened.

And I really really didn't mean for it to.


Right. You're wanting to know what the 'it' is, aren't ya? And I'll tell ya too. It's just... You gotta believe me that I didn't mean to. You gotta believe that I didn't mean to kiss her.

Ah man, am I screwed.

And not in the good way either.

See, I was just cleaning up a little. 'Cause God knows what Angel would do to me if I left his place at all unlike how I found it. And I pick up some of her trash for her - 'cause that's just the kinda guy I am - and then I look up, and...

And she's kissin' me.

Well, not so much *kissing* as - well - one of those chaste little pecks a person would give their uncle. But it felt like it would've been more if she hadn't been - you know - so nervous.

And it was still her lips on mine - and there's just no getting around that one. Her lips. On mine.

Angel's gonna kill me.

If Wes and Cordy don't get to me first that is.

And what the hell am I supposed to do about it in the mean time anyway? You know - before the eventual 'death by over-protective vampire and friends' thing.

I mean, back upstairs I did what any one else would do in my situation. I stared at her in shock for a good thirty seconds, then headed on outa there.

I'm not crazy enough to stick around for an encore.

Crazy. But not that crazy.

And, sure, it wasn't all together *unpleasant*. I mean, how many times does a guy get to be kissed - even if it is just a peck - by his beautiful though somewhat deranged coworker?

Oh no. Stop right there amigo. The last thing I wanna do is start thinking about how good-lookin' she is. That's gonna get me into a whole hell of a lot of trouble real fast.

As if I'm not in enough as it is.

So here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna pretend it never happened. I mean - what's the worst that could happen if we just ignore it? No one knows. No one gets in trouble. No one gets hurt.

Well. She might get hurt a little.

No. No, she won't. That thing back there? That was just her being little 're-adjusting girl' and not knowing how to tell a guy thank you. That was just her way of saying thank you. Right?

And we're just not gonna talk about it. Even if it does keep playing in my mind over and over again. Even if it did feel... oddly right.

No, Gunn. Get a grip, man. You're starting to go a little crazy there. No need for that now, right?

Just pretend it didn't happen. Just keep going on with life. No one has to know. Just ignore it.

What's the worst that could happen?

End (?)