| No Glass Slipper by Demonica Mills |
| Chapter #11 - Chapter 11 |
| Chapter 11 Giles My flight lands in LA because it is two hundred dollars cheaper than landing in Sunnydale. Besides, there's someone I want to find while I'm here. Good thing I know someone who owns a detective agency. I have never been to the Hyperion before. In fact I didn't even have the address, had to look up Angel Investigations in the phone book. Somehow the enormous empty building seems fitting for Angel, a sad looking exterior with the promise of danger on the inside. How ever does he afford the rent on this place? The lobby is large and meticulously clean and I wonder if Angel has employed a full maid service as well. I wander through the lobby yelling out greetings, but am met by silence although I catch a small movement out of the corner of my eye. "Hello, name is Rupert Giles. I'm a...friend of Angel's," my throat gets stuck around the word friend. Angel and I are absolutely not friends and we will never be. I still have nightmares about finding Jenny's body in my bed. I still hate myself for not dis-inviting him from my house. I still hate him for all the things Angelus did. After all, he may be Angel with the soul but I know that Angelus in still in there lurking beneath the surface. I see a girl trying to hide behind the handrail of the staircase. "A-angel's not here. All gone out," she says quickly. "I didn't go. Can't go out, too loud, the equations don't work." "I see. Do you know when he'll be back?" "Back before dawn," she answers. I'm walking the stairs slowly, trying not to startle her. It doesn't work and she takes off down the hallway, darting into an open door. She doesn't shut the door behind her and I follow her. The walls of the room are completely covered in mathematical equations and crude drawings. The girl is huddled in the corner absentmindedly drawing on the wall. "What are you drawing?" I ask. She frowns a moment. "Pylea. I was stuck there. I was stuck there because the equations couldn't add up, but Angel rescued me. He helps the helpless. I was helpless and he helped me, brought me back here. They have tacos here." "I see. What's your name?" "Fred-Winafred Burkle, pleased to meet you," she says. "Pleased to meet you, Fred. My name is Giles. What are your equations for?" "Equations for interdimensional travel. The numbers didn't add up in Pylea because I had half the equation. Can't solve half an equation, you need all the numbers...well, you can solve half the equation but only if you have the first half and the answer and then you can figure out the middle, but I didn't have that," Fred says. A door slams in the lobby and voices float up the hall. "Back," Fred says. "I hope they brought tacos." I walk back toward the lobby with Fred in tow and meet Cordelia on the stairs. "Oh! Giles, what are you doing here?" "Nice to see you too Cordelia. I must speak with Angel." "You know, he's a little busy right now but how about I take a message and he'll get back to you?" She holds up her thumb and forefinger to emphasis the word little. "Fred, we got you tacos! Yummy, crunchy, million calorie tacos and all you need to do is come out of your room to eat them! What do you say?" "Now, see here," I interrupt her. "I must speak with Angel immediately and unless he is in the middle of an Apocalypse I see no reason why he cannot see me." "You're tying me up! I'm the mother of your child and you're tying me up! When I get out of here I'm going to drain every last one of your humans dry, starting with little miss fashion plate!" A female voice yelled. "That's why he can't see you," Cordelia said. I follow Cordelia down the stairs and am shocked by what I see. "Good lord, is that-" "Darla," Cordelia finishes at the same time Angel looks at me and says, "Giles." "But vampires can't, Good Lord...I-I-I thought she was-" "Dust," a young black man says. "Apparently, she's been undusted." Oh, good lord. XXX Tara Buffy's not at work when I stop by to see her and the manager tells me that she called for the second day in a row. That worries me because I know that Buffy can't afford not to go to work. I stop at the grocery store on the way to her house and pick up a loaf of bread and two bulk containers of peanut butter and jelly. It's not much, but I know Buffy hasn't eaten and it's all I can really afford. I thought that after I told Willow about Dawn being taken away that she would want to rush out and help Buffy, and she was worried. It's the most distressed I've seen her in the past couple of months. Yet, she still didn't call Buffy. She called Xander and told him what was going on. I overheard them discussing what they should do and they both decided that maybe Dawn was better off with someone else, someone that didn't have so much violence in their life. I love Willow, I really do, but she's turning into someone I don't know. The house is quiet when I enter. I thought about knocking, but I didn't think that Buffy would actually open the door. "Buffy!" I yell. "She's sleepin'." Spike startles me and I drop the bag of groceries onto the floor. Thank Goddess for plastic. I bend down to pick up the jar of peanut butter that has rolled out of the bag. "I--is she okay...considering?" I ask. Spike sighs and shakes his head. He walks over to the back door and peeks through the curtains, twirling a cigarette between his fingers. His lips purse together at the bright sunshine and he turns back to face me. "Not doing well at all. She's lost her sister and been abandoned by her friends. She's not eating, barely making ends meet, and..." he trails off. "And," I prod. "'S nothing." "Spike?" Buffy's voice filters down the hallway and both of us move toward the sound. She's standing on the stairs wearing nothing but a t-shirt, sans bra, and I suddenly notice how gorgeous she is. I quickly avert my eyes and try to focus my thoughts on Willow. "Hey, luv. You need something?" Spike asks placing a hand on her waist. It's a cautious move, like when you're in the beginning of a relationship and you want to touch the person and you think they want you to touch them but you're not really sure of where the boundaries are. I notice something at that point. Lately, Buffy's aura has been...off. It's hard to explain that to people who don't see auras, but trust me when I tell you that the colors have been...depressing colors. It's worried me. When she came down the stairs, the colors were the darkest I've ever seen her have and I was expecting that because of what happened yesterday, but...the moment Spike touched her and their eyes met, her colors lightened. I don't mean to say that they suddenly lightened to the point of extreme happiness, but the colors of depression were...less. That doesn't really explain it either, but it’s the best that I can do. "Tara?" Buffy notices me then and I raise the bag of food in her direction. "Hi, I-I brought you something to eat...It's not much, but..." I trail off. "I-I'm not hungry, but thank you," she murmurs. Spike turns around, grabs the bag from me, and walks into the kitchen. Buffy and I stare at each other, cringing at the sound of rattling silverware and banging cupboards in the kitchen. "I called Giles...he's on his way," I say. "Oh," she says. "Thank you...for everything...for being my friend." "It's...nothing. I'll always be your friend," I say because I'm not really sure how to answer that. I want to say 'thank you for being my friend, for saving the world so that I can live in it, for helping to protect me from demons, for convincing me that I'm not a demon, for risking your life every night to protect millions of people that you've never met.' I don't though. Instead I follow her into the kitchen where Spike has made a complete mess. I didn't even know that you could mess up peanut butter and jelly. Both containers are open and the knife is sticking out of the peanut butter jar. I can already tell that he used one knife for both jars and there is now going to be peanut butter in the jelly and vice versa. There are globs of jelly on the counter and floor and a stack of bread that looks like he smeared peanut butter on it, ripped the bread, and threw it aside. Vampires should not be allowed to make food for the living. "Here," Spike says thrusting a plate of sandwiches at Buffy. "Eat this." He's made way more than she can eat and I realize that it's been so long since he had to eat that he probably has no judging point on how much is too much versus how much is too little. Buffy takes the plate and sits at the table, picking at the crusts while I begin to clean up Spike's mess. Yep, globs of jelly in the peanut butter. XXX Spike I could bloody kiss Glinda. I knew the Slayer had to eat but didn't have a way of going to get her food and to be honest, I didn't think of delivery. Even being around the Scoobies for the past two years has not helped me to remember what it is like to be a human needing food; how much to eat, when to eat, what to eat, that what goes in must go out...Things I do not miss. I know the Slayer 's too skinny, know she needs to eat, but can't bloody force it down her throat, can I? Well, I can but the last thing I need is for her to push me away when me and Glinda are all she's got. Buffy's eating the sandwiches slowly and I know that she must be starving to eat them at all. She proud, my girl, doesn't like taken charity even from a friend. My girl...like the sound of that. Is she mine? If Red and the Whelp were to show up on the door right now, would I find myself pushed out on the porch? I think about how she felt, all snuggled against me. Yeah, the Big Bad used the word snuggled. I almost feel guilty about how the past twenty four hours have been my idea of heaven when the Slayer probably thinks she's in Hell. Interesting how that is, isn't it? Heaven and Hell. Heaven for me, Hell for her. "Think I found a buyer for J-the car," I say. I haven't, but I know she wants to sell it and I want to help out in some way. "Really? H-how much will they pay for it?" she asks. "How much do you want for it?" Buffy plays with the crumbs on her plate, pressing her finger against them and bringing them to her lips. Silly really 'cause she's got a whole 'nother half of sandwich and I can always make her more. "Well, the payments are $262 a month and the book says that I'm at payment 37 out of 72," she answers. "About $10,000 ought to cover it," Tara says. "That should pay off the car and leave you with a little left over...not much though." "'Ll see what I can do," I say and silently promise to find someone that will pay at least $15,000 for the car. There's a huge black market for Slayer items and what demon wouldn't want a Slayer's car? XXX |