Serving as liaison between the single most powerful evil force in countless dimensions...and the hapless vampire/white-hat hybrid they, in their infinite wisdom, decided to put in charge of the L.A. office... Isn't quite as thrilling an assignment as one might expect it to be.
Which isn't to say that I've become "bored" with my duties. No. Boredom is the mark of the unimaginative, and the easily distracted.
But I must admit to a growing...dissatisfaction with simply sitting back and watching Angel's crew and their somewhat pathetic exploits.
There was never a lack for things to do before the vampire began his play for a place within the Circle of the Black Thorn. Schemes to plot. Traps to set. The usual humdrum that is the company's current policy for seducing potential allies over to the home team.
Now that Angel's working on a shiny new pass to play with the big boys on the Senior Partners' side, all bets are off. And so are many of my previous extracurricular activities. Corporate policy (it always comes back to that
( ... )
They're talking to me. Those voices. They keep talking to me and I don't know how to make them shut up. Perhaps I've died and this is my hell. Books everywhere, ancient texts at the tips of my fingers, but unable to use them. Because the voice keep telling me that I can't use them. I'm not worthy of using them.
But I did manage to get one book from them. They're not taking away that one no matter what they say. They can't make me give it up. Softly, I caressed the spine of the book and then carefully laid it down next to my shoes. It would be safe there. No one could touch that particular spot. It was my spot, I'd created it to hide things from the voices. Too bad it wasn't big enough to hide me.
"Who knows you better then I do?"
"Shut up, Lilah."
"Make me.
I scowled up in the air, up at the voice. I could practically hear the smugness in it. Bitch. But she'd been right. She'd known me better then anyone. Better then...Fred.
"You think you could have love me?""I did love you," I whispered, glancing around for her ghost. Of
( ... )
Just when I think I may have gotten it right, and prepare to make that call to Personnel...and, possibly, Custodial...I hear a sign of life come from the other side of the closed door.
There's a pause...then the door opens. A crack. Just wide enough for Angel's head of Research to stick his head out and look at me
( ... )
My frown deepened at his words. I shifted a little, leaning against the wall as I gave him a once over. Odd saying that, 'a once over'. A once over what? Exactly? I need to make a note to figure that out. It's about as vague as a prophecy. One never knows it might be one in disguise. "You're whom?" I asked, staring at him in disbelieve.
"Let's go have a talk, Lilah lite!".
"I don't know, Cordy," I muttered, shifting a little again as I kept staring. "He doesn't strike me as a Lilah lite." Tilting my head, I narrowed my eyes and wrinkled my nose. "At least they'd have gotten me some tea. They understood the importance of tea." Whomever 'they' might be. Didn't matter, I was quite certain of it.
"Look man. I didn't know! I didn't know it was going to be one of us. Was going to be Fred!""Shut up, Charles." Nodding at that, I stepped back into my office, nearly stumbling over a book. Dammit! What idiot put those so carelessly on the floor?! If it was damaged, heads were going to roll. Quiet literally. They shouldn't be touching the
( ... )
"Hmm. Yes. That does narrow the possibilities, doesn't it? Of course, it would be nice to have some less vague account of what you've been doing on company time." I say this simply to unsettle him. Although he hardly needs the help unsettling. The little show I've just watched him put on with his wrist watch is proof enough of that alone.
There's just something about the man that is fascinating unsettled. It could be the misery emanating from him like gloom from a dark cloud. Or the little glint in his eye when he glares, like he's glaring at me right now.
Or the haughty way he carries himself. As if I couldn't snap him in two if I had the inclination.
And the Senior Partners' approval, of course.
I can't say the mixed signals don't have anything to do with it. 'Marcus' he calls me. And not in the snide tone Angel always uses when he informalizes my name
( ... )
"Research," I say, giving him an incredulous stare. Hasn't he been listening? I just told him so! Christ, that's what's wrong with this firm. People aren't listening, least of all ti me it seems. When I said everyone should work on the F-Fred's case, they didn't listen either. But...I took care of that
( ... )
I'm beginning to think he's only going to parrot my question about his "research" back at me. Then he bounces around a bit and mentions Illyria.
"Ah, yes. The Old One. The Senior Partners will be pleased to know you've been looking into that disaster. They've no desire to see It become an issue again." As I understand, things did not fare well for the Senior Partners the last time Illyria spent any amount of time in one dimension.
I watch Pryce fidget and stare at his door as if it's going to bite him, at my suggestion that he step out. I find myself stepping closer to him, arms crossing over my chest. From this vantage, I can see his chest rise and fall with each nervous breath more clearly.
"English?" I repeat as he questions my nationality. As if I have one. I raise a brow. For all the things that Eve "neglected" to tell the Senior Partners...she must have been just as closed-lipped with Angel and his crew.
Well. With his crew, in any case.
"No. My...origins aren't quite so nouveau." Which is one way, I suppose,
( ... )
Nouveau? What kind of way is that to refer to ones origins? And beside that, 'origins' sounds a tad clinical. Who is this fellow? Where to those bloody Senior Partners find them? He's not as annoying as Eve, I'll grand him that. But he's getting very close with those odd answers
( ... )
Comments 24
Which isn't to say that I've become "bored" with my duties. No. Boredom is the mark of the unimaginative, and the easily distracted.
But I must admit to a growing...dissatisfaction with simply sitting back and watching Angel's crew and their somewhat pathetic exploits.
There was never a lack for things to do before the vampire began his play for a place within the Circle of the Black Thorn. Schemes to plot. Traps to set. The usual humdrum that is the company's current policy for seducing potential allies over to the home team.
Now that Angel's working on a shiny new pass to play with the big boys on the Senior Partners' side, all bets are off. And so are many of my previous extracurricular activities. Corporate policy (it always comes back to that ( ... )
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But I did manage to get one book from them. They're not taking away that one no matter what they say. They can't make me give it up. Softly, I caressed the spine of the book and then carefully laid it down next to my shoes. It would be safe there. No one could touch that particular spot. It was my spot, I'd created it to hide things from the voices. Too bad it wasn't big enough to hide me.
"Who knows you better then I do?"
"Shut up, Lilah."
"Make me.
I scowled up in the air, up at the voice. I could practically hear the smugness in it. Bitch. But she'd been right. She'd known me better then anyone. Better then...Fred.
"You think you could have love me?""I did love you," I whispered, glancing around for her ghost. Of ( ... )
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There's a pause...then the door opens. A crack. Just wide enough for Angel's head of Research to stick his head out and look at me ( ... )
Reply
"Let's go have a talk, Lilah lite!".
"I don't know, Cordy," I muttered, shifting a little again as I kept staring. "He doesn't strike me as a Lilah lite." Tilting my head, I narrowed my eyes and wrinkled my nose. "At least they'd have gotten me some tea. They understood the importance of tea." Whomever 'they' might be. Didn't matter, I was quite certain of it.
"Look man. I didn't know! I didn't know it was going to be one of us. Was going to be Fred!""Shut up, Charles." Nodding at that, I stepped back into my office, nearly stumbling over a book. Dammit! What idiot put those so carelessly on the floor?! If it was damaged, heads were going to roll. Quiet literally. They shouldn't be touching the ( ... )
Reply
"Hmm. Yes. That does narrow the possibilities, doesn't it? Of course, it would be nice to have some less vague account of what you've been doing on company time." I say this simply to unsettle him. Although he hardly needs the help unsettling. The little show I've just watched him put on with his wrist watch is proof enough of that alone.
There's just something about the man that is fascinating unsettled. It could be the misery emanating from him like gloom from a dark cloud. Or the little glint in his eye when he glares, like he's glaring at me right now.
Or the haughty way he carries himself. As if I couldn't snap him in two if I had the inclination.
And the Senior Partners' approval, of course.
I can't say the mixed signals don't have anything to do with it. 'Marcus' he calls me. And not in the snide tone Angel always uses when he informalizes my name ( ... )
Reply
Reply
"Ah, yes. The Old One. The Senior Partners will be pleased to know you've been looking into that disaster. They've no desire to see It become an issue again." As I understand, things did not fare well for the Senior Partners the last time Illyria spent any amount of time in one dimension.
I watch Pryce fidget and stare at his door as if it's going to bite him, at my suggestion that he step out. I find myself stepping closer to him, arms crossing over my chest. From this vantage, I can see his chest rise and fall with each nervous breath more clearly.
"English?" I repeat as he questions my nationality. As if I have one. I raise a brow. For all the things that Eve "neglected" to tell the Senior Partners...she must have been just as closed-lipped with Angel and his crew.
Well. With his crew, in any case.
"No. My...origins aren't quite so nouveau." Which is one way, I suppose, ( ... )
Reply
Nouveau? What kind of way is that to refer to ones origins? And beside that, 'origins' sounds a tad clinical. Who is this fellow? Where to those bloody Senior Partners find them? He's not as annoying as Eve, I'll grand him that. But he's getting very close with those odd answers ( ... )
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