| Bright Light City |
[24 Oct 2005|11:27pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 mischievous |
] |
"Shut up. You haven't even said anything yet, but... just shut up."
Having been raised in a country where we actually had castles, knights, and-- come to think of it-- Excalibur itself, I could have said a great deal about the gaudy monstrosity sitting on the corner of Las Vegas Boulevard and Tropicana Boulevard. But, then again, I was a much more relaxed and much less uptight Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (the previous incarnation of me would have fainted dead away at the child's cake colors of the exterior), and so I found myself rather enjoying the place.
The din of the casino floor had given way to a plush 'Parlor Suite', almost overflowing with burgundy and gold, from the window hangings to the couch to the very large and very comfortable-looking bed. The suite was two large rooms, and seemed to have been liberally stocked with such wedding night staples as chilled champagne, chocolate-covered strawberries, fresh flowers, a small tin of novelty condoms I found in the nightstand drawer, and a pair of discount passes to the 'Midnight Fantasy' topless revue at the Luxor.
Checking my watch and readjusting it to local Nevada time, I realised that we were early for dinner and too late to get moving on our assignment for the day.
"It seems that business will have to wait until morning. I suppose until then, we'll just have to see if there's anything in this city that's remotely entertaining."
((Open to Buffy))
|
7 Times | Give as good as you get
|
| Waiting |
[19 Sep 2005|03:52pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 jealous |
] |
I wasn't jealous.
Honestly.
Just because Angel still hadn't called me back, just because Faith walked into work today with a cat-that-ate-the-cream look on her face, just because one Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was late for work after this supposed "date" with Faith?
Nope. Not jealous.
Just... anxious. I guess. I dunno. Something, though, since I'd been tapping my pencil nervously on my desk until it finally just snapped in two, which was when I figured I should talk to Faith and just stop this insanity. Because honestly... Wesley. WESLEY. Why the hell would she have gone on a date with him anyways?
I picked up my cellphone and for the first time in forever, I didn't automatically dial Angel's number. I was about to call Wesley and demand to know why he hadn't gotten his lazy ass out of bed yet when it occurred to me...
What if the reason he was still at home was due to some late night activities with a certain brunette Slayer who shall remain nameless?
Oh. Oh... not good. So not good. I slammed my cell on my desk and sighed as it broke, so I just dumped it in the trash next to my broken pencil.
"God, he's such an asshole," I muttered as I hung my head into my hands and trying really really hard not to be jealous.
((Open to Wesley))
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6 Times | Give as good as you get
|
| It's just a date... |
[08 Jul 2005|03:40pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 excited |
] |
I walked past Buffy's little cubicle and smirked, before waving at her and blowing a kiss. "Later, B. Gotta catch up to Wes. Old times and all that."
Oh, fuck, the expression on her face was priceless.
Giles had said Wes would be waiting in the conference room, so I poked my head in there a bit. "Fuck, so this is what this place looks like, huh?" I winked as I tilted my head to the side, hands shoved in the pockets of my jeans. "C'mon. I'm busting ya outta here. One good turn and all."
Think there was supposed to be some sorta fucking meeting later, but whatev. I never went to those anyways. Me? Send me out in the field, fight off some vamps, and I was a happy gal.
Plus, it took my mind offa Robin.
I just hated bad break-ups.
But, soon enough, me and Wes were eating at a nice place that served their drinks with pink umbrellas, and as I chugged mine down, I watched him. Yeah, he'd changed, alright. Hadn't said anything about anyone else, though.
"So, how's Angel? Still fighting the good fight, or finally taking a fucking break? Gotta say, Wes, you shoulda taken one too." I lit up a cig and blew the smoke away from his face, tapping the ashes into the tray on the table. "You're too much like B, y'know. Stubborn as all hell and never going on a fucking vacation from the world."
I took a bite of this incredibly awesome steak, and sighed happily. "Mmm... yum. And before ya ask me, here goes. No, I'm not dating anyone on account of Robin dumping my ass. Yes, pissing off Buffy was part of the reason I said we should have dinner. And, yeah, I'm having a good time, no guilt trips or anything."
I took a drag and grinned at his face.
"That about cover it?"
((Open to Wes))
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2 Times | Give as good as you get
|
| The First Meeting |
[04 May 2005|01:51pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 irritated |
] |
My phone rang and I nearly jumped before I answered it, "Hello? Angel? I was... oh, hey Giles. Sorry. Uh... no, nothing. It's nothing," I lied, rolling my eyes and sighing. Yeah, like Angel would've called me back so soon anyways.
"What's up?"
And that's when he told me my new partner was waiting for me. In the meeting room. I hung up, fixed my hair a bit, prayed that it wasn't Faith who was going to be going out into the field with me, and walked with my head held high. Had to be all professional about this, after all, no matter how much I disliked the idea.
Of course, as soon as I opened the door and Saw one Wesley Wyndam-Pryce standing there, I smiled and apologized quickly. "Oh, sorry, wrong room, I was waiting to see my new..."
No. OH NO.
I stepped through the door carefully, when everything fell into place. Why Giles hadn't told me who my partner was... why Wesley was even here to begin with... "Oh God," I whispered before catching myself, gathering all my anger and frustration and just unleashing it onto him.
"Ok, first off? You are so not my partner. Period. I will talk to Giles and get this fixed, since there's no way in Hell that I'm working with you. And second?" I drew a deep breath and walked closer to him, cursing myself for doing that since he was so much taller than me. I hated that. It made me feel all... ok, short. And also less important somehow. Don't ask, I can't really explain.
Crap, I lost my train of thought. I practically stomped my foot, though, and pointed to the door. "Get out! I mean it. I am busy here with... stuff, and... and..." I wracked my brain. "And I'm waiting for Angel to call me back."
Alright, not the best retort I could come up with - wait, was it even a retort if he hadn't said anything yet? I wasn't sure... ugh. It didn't matter. That stupid jerk from Sunnydale who thought he knew everything and I knew nothing was not - I repeat, not - going to stay here.
And if he thought he was my 'equal' in anyway? (Notice the airquotes?)
He had another thing coming.
((Open to Wesley))
|
4 Times | Give as good as you get
|
| You Can Go Home Again |
[03 May 2005|11:26pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 contemplative |
] |
England.
The Mother Country.
To be perfectly honest, I'd never imagined that I'd ever find myself on her soil again, perhaps not even to be buried underneath it. But attempting predicting the path of my own life was, I knew, the greatest folly. Nothing that had happened over the last few years had ever remotely occurred to me as remotely possible, and yet here I was, somehow having survived to see the other side of it all. Barely.
Though she was more than content to be travelling the world and studying us bizarre humans, I knew that I would be forever indebted to Illyria for having been just in time to keep Vail from murdering me. Just as I knew that I would always count Spike and Gunn as stalwart comrades, even though the former was also abroad for reasons unknown and the latter, I was informed, died in that rain-filled alley after taking an inhuman number of his enemies with him.
And when I'd discussed Giles' offer with Angel, I knew what my recovering friend's opinion would be, as well.
"You're going to work for the people who took Dana? Who wouldn't even answer my phone call about Fred when she was dying? The ones who fired you?"
Angel had been incredulous, but he'd understood my need to belong again, to be part of a greater good. It was all I'd ever really wanted from life, and with what was left of Angel Investigations scattered to the winds, there was nothing left for me in Los Angeles. Nothing but ghosts that I'd laid to rest right about the time I'd thought I was about to become one myself.
So, I'd agreed to Giles' offer, packed up my apartment, sold both SUV and motorbike, and gotten onto the first BA flight to London. Father was there to pick me up, as was Giles, and given the time of my arrival, they'd taken me for a hearty English dinner and some excellent scotch before showing me the flat that had been hired according to my specifications.
Thanks to the inevitable jet lag, I'd stepped back out around midnight, looking for either amusement or trouble, and found both. Of everyone in the world, who should I run into in a dark London alley than Faith, on what one could only loosely term 'patrol'. We exchanged surprise and very nearly a few good punches, and filled each other in on current events in our lives as we dispatched a good half dozen or more vampires. Before I realized, it was four in the morning and we were closing down a pub when I finally had to call it a night.
Faith shrugged and 'let' me go, but not before promising she'd see me around the office and that if I was lucky, outside of it, as well. It was surely the weariness and the alcohol talking, but I could hear a distinct tone of proposition in the way she'd said it.
I'd slept quite well for just two and a half hours, and showed up at Giles' office bright-eyed enough to mask my slight hangover. Giles outlined the nature of my duties and I almost laughed out loud. Surely he knew as well as I did the repercussions of placing me in an equal position to Buffy?
"I'd like to think that Buffy's matured past such pettiness, my old friend. And if she hasn't, well... this surrogate father thinks it's bloody time she did."
We'll see, I thought, patting my new plastic-coated credentials and wondering just how hot a frying pan it was into which I was about to jump.
|
Give as good as you get
|
| Oh, please... |
[29 Apr 2005|11:14pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
annoyed |
] |
"I'm going to kill him."
I slammed the door to my office - ok, the one that was in my head since all I had was a cubicle which in my opinion was entirely unfair! - and slumped into my chair. There was a little bit of paperwork I had to do and then I could go out again on the field, doing my typical thing of finding new Slayers and bringing them in, or just plain slaying.
Except now I had a partner.
What, did Giles think I was incapable of doing this alone? I'd been doing this alone just fine for about a year now! I handled that whole incident with the slayer in L.A. that Angel had screwed up...
Well, not that it was technically Angel's fault, though. I wondered if he was ok... maybe I should call him to be sure? I mean, with that whole battle and everything, and now that he'd decided to be on a sabbatical...
Biting my lip, I called his cellphone. It took forever for someone to answer, and when they did, it wasn't Angel.
"Hey, is this Buffy?"
"Um... yes. Hi. Is Angel around? I was just calling cuz..."
"Hi Buffy! It's Nina. Angel's in the shower. I can give him a message though."
Nina? Ok, why don't we start with who the hell are you and why are you answering Angel's cellphone? "Uh... no message. Oh wait. Tell him I said..." I licked my lips, trying to think of something good. No way was the cookie-dough speech getting brought up again, that was for sure. "Just tell him I said 'hi'."
"Sure. Nice finally talking to you!"
I didn't bother to say the same back since it wasn't true. Nina? Nina knew he was taking a shower. Nina must've seen him naked then which meant... oh God. "He's got a girlfriend," I whispered to myself, biting my lip nervously. Ugh, she was probably some annoying little twit of a girl, too.
I could tell I hated Nina already.
But not as much as I'd hate whoever the hell was going to be my supposed 'partner' in the field.
|
Give as good as you get
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