| Getting a Move On |
[17 Oct 2005|09:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 mellow |
] |
Vegas wasn't like this way back when. And I'm not talking about the last time I was here, with the Lorne thing and the whole deal about stealing my destiny and so on. I mean back when-- when the mob ran things instead of the corporations (who are just as bad, if not worse), when there wasn't a kid in a hundred miles of the city and when the King was still playing at the American. Yep, lots of things I'd rather have to old way.
But then again, the sixteen or so hours I spent never leaving mine and Buffy's room, getting pampered with room service (down to the extra-spicy food I ordered, so that we could both indulge) and, well, working up an appetite for it all... that was pretty damn fun. I could get used to the new Vegas, I thought.
Which was, of course, right about the time we knew it was time to leave.
The messenger arrived at the door just a minute after our last room service trolley had come up, so we'd both assumed the guy had just forgotten something. Instead, it was one of Acheron's people, as buttoned-up a legal aide as I'd ever seen at Wolfram & Hart. He handed me the DVD disc and turned to walk down the hall without a word.
I popped it into the player and nibbled idly on a buffalo wing, wondering what was in store for us.
( Nine, and then some )
I clicked off the television with my non-sauce stained hand and looked over at Buffy, who was tearing her way through some kind of gourmet pizza thing.
"Hope you've got your passport."
((Open to Buffy))
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4 Labors to Perform
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| Wants |
[08 Jul 2005|05:20pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 horny |
] |
We got back to the hotel in record time, even for Vegas-driving-standards, and I pretty much collapsed onto the bed for a sec. "Dibs on the shower," I said wearily to Angel, as I finally pulled myself up and grabbed my Bath and Body Works Shampoo before he could protest.
Ahh... warm water. Nice scents. And a hot boyfriend waiting in the other room. What more could I ask for?
I dried off, my hair still a bit wet, and looked in the mirror. The Buffy looking back at me was older, but I wasn't sure if she was that much wiser when it came to Angel. Obviously, things between had always been either perfect, or strained. There was just no middle ground for some reason.
And now? We were looking for the middle ground while we waited for our next "assignment" to get rid of the curse.
Frankly, I wasn't sure how Angel had done it all these years. I, for one, was getting a little... umm... antsy? But how could I tell him that? I couldn't tell him that! It's like shoving his nose into it or something.
I loved him too much to do that.
Besides, hadn't I been the one complaining that sex was the only thing on his brain when I'd flown out from Rome to see him? Geez, can we say 'hypocrite'?
Sighing, I tossed the towel to the ground and opened the door, walking out to find Angel on the bed. "Hey," I whispered before kissing him lightly, sitting next to him.
Which, I shouldn't have done, since it tugged on the towel I'd nicely wrapped around me until it fell into a pile on the floor. Leaving me naked.
((Open to Angel))
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11 Labors to Perform
|
| Here, Kitty Kitty |
[25 May 2005|11:44am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 curious |
] |
Early evening had turned into night, and even though it felt like Buffy and I had walked every street in the housing complex twice, we still hadn't found the feline-demon. Neither of us had ever seen or even heard of something similar, and the suggestion of some kind of werewolf-like shapeshifting creature had been brought up, but given the killings we knew of and the ferocity we had just experienced, the thing-- whatever it was-- couldn't be allowed to keep murdering innocent people.
Completing what had to be our second sweep of the complex, Buffy and I sat down on a park bench to rest and reconsider our strategy, such as it was. At least, that was the idea. Instead, the last thing I felt like discussing was business. My hand found a place to rest on Buffy's knee, and we just sat close there for a minute before the small talk began.
"You, uh, hadn't told me how everyone else is doing. Are they all okay with you moving back here, coming to be with me?"
Not that Buffy, or myself, for that matter, was a person who would have waited for approval or blessings on something like this. Particularly Buffy, who was as stubborn and determined an individual as I'd ever met-- it was definitely one of the things I loved about her. I guess I was just wondering, and hoping that for Buffy's sake, there hadn't been problems.
I just gave Buffy a couple of squeezes on her knee as she answered, reassuring ones that let her know I was listening.
Once she was done, though, I was listening to something else-- something very low and very quiet, but that sounded a whole heckuva lot like growling, and it was coming from the basement-access door of a nearby house.
"I think we might have a lead again," I said as I rose from the bench and started in the direction of the house.
((Open to Buffy))
|
6 Labors to Perform
|
| The First Labor |
[19 Apr 2005|10:58am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 sleepy |
] |
The phone rang. And rang. And rang. I groaned as I reached over and picked it up, yawning as I groggily managed to answer, "Hello?"
"Hello, Mrs. Angel? This is your wake up call."
"Oh... uh-huh, thanks..." I slammed the phone down and wiped at my eyes, struggling to wake up. Then a touch of anger hit me as I realized that Angel had set a phone wake-up call with said phone on my side of the bed where I'd have to answer it, when there was a perfectly good alarm clock on his side of the bed.
I shoved his back a little. "Wake up, doofus," I sighed before slipping my legs off the bed and starting our little coffee-maker up. The drip sound and the aroma helped wake me a little as I walked over to the drawn curtains and peeked out carefully, wanting to see what the place looked like during the day but also wanting to make sure my boyfriend didn't turn into ash in the meantime.
Then it hit me. Mrs. Angel???
I didn't remember registering like that... heck, I actually didn't remember registering at all. Had Angel just done it to be all proper, or was that the hotel just assuming. Cuz last night with the whole drive-thru wedding thing?
I'd only been half-kidding, knowing deep down he was going to say 'no' to it anyways.
Pouring two cups of coffee, I walked back to bed in my cow-jammies and messed up bed-hair. Sitting down, I handed one cup to Angel as he carefully woke up, then slammed the light on brightly just to get him back for waking me up so rudely with the wake-up call.
"So... today is the big day," I whispered, blowing the steam off my cup before sipping carefully. "Nervous?" I was, but I wasn't about to let him know that... after everything he'd been through, I figured I had to be strong for him. Make sure he got through all this fine, still believing in himself no matter what, yada-yada...
My train of thought stopped abruptly and I blurted out, "And since when am I 'Mrs. Angel'?"
((Open to Angel))
|
8 Labors to Perform
|
| Thoughts Along the Strip |
[03 Apr 2005|07:16pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 cheerful |
] |
Buffy seemed to be perking back up. A good sign, meaning that we might actually be able to enjoy ourselves, even if just a little bit. The last time I'd been in the city, I'd come in hearing all these stories about how much it had changed, how many things there were to do now that had nothing in common with the Sin City I remembered from the old days. And it had definitely looked different, but after getting my destiny stolen, I wasn't much inclined to look too favorably on Vegas that trip.
So this time should be different, I decided.
And although Buffy looked extremely comfortable just sitting on the bed with her arm around my back-- and I had to admit that I wasn't hating the situation, either-- she also looked intrigued enough about what we might be able to do. She kissed me back, and there was a playful glint in her eye that I'd missed for so very long.
"So... what did you have in mind, then?"
I stood up and offered Buffy my hand. I thought I just might have had the perfect destination in mind. Waving off the staff's offers of having one of the hotel's cars brought around for us or hailing a cab for us, Buffy and I made our way through the clanging, jingling, ringing noise of the casino. Coins fell, reels spun, and soon we were passing through the marble lobby and out the doors onto the sidewalk.
I didn't tell Buffy where we were headed, just took her hand and kept it firmly as we navigated the moving maze of people, walking up and down the Strip with giant plastic maragrita yards, some dressed in their best clothes, some in their rattiest, some barely dressed at all. And, being who and what I was, I couldn't help but notice that no matter how many neon signs hung over the street, there were always still shadows.
Finally, we crossed to the other side of the street, walked some more, and reached our destination. Just as Buffy stepped up to the rail dividing the sidewalk from the lush landscaping that led down to the huge man-mad 'Lake Bellagio', the strains of Vivalidi's 'Spring' poured out of hidden speakers, and the waters began to dance.
I stepped up behind Buffy and wrapped my arms around her.
"Not too bad," I whispered, watching the show.
((Open to Buffy))
|
4 Labors to Perform
|
| Lions and Slayers and Vamps, Oh My |
[14 Mar 2005|02:46pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 okay |
] |
Acheron, it turned out, didn't waste a whole lot of time getting down to business. Buffy and I had only been back for a couple of hours-- during which I'd gotten a Buffy lecture on jumping into things without thinking (and man, had Buffy gotten really good at lecturing), and hadn't gotten much of anything else-- when a courier arrived at the door.
The three-piece-suited courier handed me a small package and didn't even wait for me to look back up from it to disappear. I opened it, and it I found out where Wes had gotten the idea for his little 'living will' from before. Acheron had sent a DVD, too.
This time, I had Buffy show me how to put the thing in the thing, and I kinda had it figured. Acheron came on the screen, looking pleasant and harmless as ever. Total bullshit, of course, but he looked it.
( The Nemean Lion )
The disc ended, and I looked over at Buffy.
"So, I guess we're headed for Vegas?"
((Open to Buffy))
|
7 Labors to Perform
|
| A New Mythology |
[10 Mar 2005|04:58pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 anxious |
] |
Buffy gave me a great big eye-roll and just about threw the copy of 'Low Rider' that she'd taken back at me. I pointed at the cover.
"There's an article on the Ford Belvedere-- that's my car!"
Okay, so the cover version of the Angel-mobile featured as a hood ornament a model who probably contained more silicone than the caulking in my shower. But I was interested in the car. Oh, whatever.
There wasn't a point to even starting the argument, since some flunky in a suit that probably cost as much as any of the ones I wore when I was a CEO arrived to usher us in. Buffy and I were shown into a huge office, and shown the two very plush chairs in front of the massive steel-and-glass desk.
( An audience with King Eurystheus )
Scowling, I shook my head in disbelief.
"You want me to perform twelve labors. If I do, then you'll give me what I want."
"You know, I think I'm feeling just generous enough to allow both you and the Slayer to participate. Just think of it-- twelve modern Herculean labors, performed separately or with the help of the woman you love, to gain your fondest wish? Now that would be a story worthy of a new mythology."
Acheron sat back and waited for our answer. I looked over at Buffy.
((Open to Buffy))
|
3 Labors to Perform
|
| One last gift from a friend |
[08 Mar 2005|09:32am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 shocked |
] |
Buffy and I spent the rest of the night talking, making out, and, uh... 'being creative' as she'd put it. The next day, as we were pretty much just being lazy and not feeling like getting out of bed, I realized that I had to get used to two things: one, that Buffy had gotten a lot more 'creative' since the last time we'd actually been together officially, and two, that I needed to just forget completely what I knew about how Buffy had gotten that way, and just be happy to be reaping the rewards.
When the knock on the door came, I was still jumpy about it. I still had no idea if there was going to be any more grief from the Senior Partners or from whatever new and improved version of the Circle of the Black Thorn that I was sure they'd put together by now. Checking through the peephole, the fact that it was a delivery guy didn't make me feel any better. I signed for a small package that contained a DVD marked 'ANGEL', a sealed envelope marked 'play the disc first' and nothing else.
Finally wandering in from the bedroom, Buffy had to give me a hand playing the thing.
The movie on it played, showing an office at Wolfram & Hart before it got wrecked by my fight with Hamilton-- Wesley's office. And Wes, staring straight into the camera.
( Messages from the other side )
The disc finished playing, and I tore open the envelope. Sure enough, it contained instructions for contacting a different parallel plane through an access point here in L.A.
Stunned, I looked over at Buffy.
"What do you think?"
((Open to Buffy))
|
5 Labors to Perform
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