B'squ shuffled through the files piled on the desk.
She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but
something had to keep her occupied for longer than ten
minutes.
"Can I help you find something, Willow?"
B'squ jumped at the voice behind her. Her mind must
have been preoccupied because a human would normally
never have been able to sneak up on her. "No."
"Well, what were you looking for?" Cordy asked. "Angel
is always complaining about my mess," she laughed.
"To be honest, I don't remember what I came down here
for," the red head laughed. "I thought if I started
looking, I'd remember."
"I hate when that happens." She waited for Willow to
vacate her seat before sitting down at her desk. "Oh,
I've been meaning to ask you about the computer. It's
been doing some funny things."
B'squ glanced at the machine. Fay despised electronics
almost as much as the death, but not quite. "Uhm. You
see," she hesitated. "It's been a while since I've
seen a computer let alone touched one."
Cordy flinched. "I'm sorry, Will. That was thoughtless
of me."
She shrugged. "That's okay." The two women stared at
each other for a few minutes. "I think I'll go back to
my room."
"You'll probably remember what you were looking for as
soon as you walk in your room," Cordy said.
"Probably." B'squ left the lobby and returned to her
room.
****
Even before the lock was in place B'squ released the
glamour that gave her a stranger's face. Wearing the
disguise felt confining and it drained her energy. In
the end when she possessed the Fay crown it would all
be worth it.
The crown was her sole mission in life. It had been
stolen from her family over a millennia ago. It had
been passed from mother to daughter since the dawn of
time. Because a member of the royal houses could only
wear the crown it had moved between the thirteen
families. When a successive heir had not been born,
the Council of Elders chose a new family. B'squ's
family had maintained the crown for the longest time
in Fay history. Until it was stolen from them.
T'kel, her ancestress and heir to the crown, had
defied ancient law and fell in love with a human.
Using her glamour, T'kel had been able to keep her
true form a secret. Eventually, she has to release the
glamour and of course her true form disgusted the
human. T'kel returned to her family in disgrace. The
Council of Elders revoked her right to inherit the
crown and thus it was passed to the Royal House of
D'quau. It remained in that family until a few years
ago. Then the stupid fool lost it to a human.
In the last three years, it had been an open race for
the members of the royal house to find and claim the
crown. B'squ was determined to be the winner. No
matter what it took.
****
Cordelia clicked on her mouse and sighed. The picture
she was trying to upload froze. *Damn machine,* she
cursed. Frustrated she pulled out the thick Los Angels
yellow pages and started searching for a computer
repair service.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
She glared at the acne-ridden boy who dared to call
her "ma'am". "What?" she snapped.
He gulped at the cold stare the lanky brunette gave
him. "Um, I, uh. I have a message for a." He paused to
glance at the letter. "A Mr. Angel?"
"It's just Angel. No Mr.," she said holding out her
hand for the large envelope. Cordy snapped it out of
his grasp and turned back to her desk.
"Um...ma'am?" the delivery boy stammered.
*There's that word again,* she thought as she turned
back around. "What?!"
He wasn't sure what he'd done to incur her wrath, but
he hoped never to do it again. "Um...I...uh. I'm
supposed to wait for a reply." He tried to avoid
direct eye contact with her. "Please,' he added
quickly.
"Fine," Cordy sighed and strode to Angel's office. She
barged in without knocking and found Spike and Angel
bent over the computer. *A working computer at that,*
she fumed. "How come you get the computer that works?"
she asked.
"Because I'm the boss?" Angel suggested.
"Whatever." She tossed the envelope on the desk.
"Some little pissant delivered this and is waiting for
a reply."
"Did the messenger boy call you ma'am again?" Spike
chuckled.
Angel had to chuckle as well when Cordy flipped Spike
off. He opened the envelope and removed the signal
sheet of paper. "She said she's still not allowed to
have boys in her room." The grin on his face fell as
he grabbed a piece of notepaper.
Cordelia watched Spike follow Angel's lead and
scribbled out a note. "Anyone care to explain what the
hell is going on?"
Angel stuffed the pages back in the envelope before
rushing out of the office. He spotted the messenger
leaning against the counter. "Here!" he said briskly.
He leaned forward. "Don't call her ma'am. It makes her
cranky," he whispered.
The messenger looked over the dark-haired man's
shoulder at the leggy brunette standing in the
doorway. "Got it." He took the envelope and hurried
out the door.
"I'm still waiting for an explanation," Cordy said
tapping her foot.
Angel rubbed the back of his neck. "Where's Wesley? I
should explain this to him, too."
"He went to the bookstore to pick up a shipment he
ordered," Cordy explained. She glanced at her watch.
"He should be back soon."
"When he gets back, I'll explain the situation," Angel
said returning to his office.
"Do you want me to get Willow?" Cordy asked.
"No," he replied before closing the door. Cordelia
rolled her eyes and returned to the computer repair
section of the yellow pages.
****
Bored out of her mind, Willow ripped open her three
empty cigarette packs. She smoothed the paper flat on
the floor. After she wiped her spoon clean the red
head held the bowl over the flame of her lighter.
Every so often she checked her progress. When the
handle of the metal utensil grew too hot to hold she
set the lighter aside and began scrapping the "soot"
onto one of her papers. Lacking anything else to use,
Willow used her fingertips to smudge lines across the
cigarette packs. While no one would ever confuse her
work with Rembrant or Van Gough, she was content to
smudge images onto the while paper. When she ran out
of charcoal, she made some more.
Willow knew she probably shouldn't waste her lighter
fluid like that, but she couldn't spend her entire day
chain smoking. Well, she could, but it was a mindless
activity and the room didn't have the best ventilation
system.
When the scraps of paper couldn't fulfill her creative
need she tried to see if the charcoal would stick to
the smooth walls. She mixed a little water with her
cigarette ash to make a paste and began her mural.
Her time in the hospital allowed her to develop her
artistic skills although she was nowhere near as
talented as Angel. The activity kept her occupied and
she figured it would piss off her keepers. She'd
finished outlining her project when the door opened.
"What are you doing?"
She glanced over her shoulder at Ratzo holding her
lunch tray. She returned to her "painting" without
speaking.
Ratzo dropped the tray on the floor and grabbed her
arm. "Stop that."
Willow growled at the touch and swung her free arm at
his face. Her fist made solid contact with his twitchy
nose. She heard the bone break as blood spilled over
her knuckles. The guard dropped to the floor screaming
and trying to stem the flow of blood from his face.
The cell door opened and her other guard rushed in,
firearm ready. Willow stared at her as she licked the
blood from her knuckles. She turned and resumed her
artwork.
Laural tried to hold in the shutter as the red head
swiped her tongue across her bloody knuckles. She knew
Hardy had done something to upset the redhead.
Normally, when one of them entered the room the girl
would sit quietly in the corner and watch them. She
never spoke or made much noise beyond a giggle that
frightened Hardy. Laural herself wasn't afraid of the
red head. She out weighted the slip of a girl by at
least fifty pounds and towered over her by a foot.
Laural had worked in the mental health industry before
so she knew when to give people the space and respect
they demanded. The slight redhead demanded a lot of
both.
Keeping her eye on the distracted Willow, Laural
grabbed Hardy by the scruff of his neck. "Come on,"
she said as she backed out of the room.
"God damn it," Hardy cursed. "Do something."
She gave him a disgusted look. "I am. I'm getting you
out of there before she kills you." She closed and
sealed the door before turning her attention to her
partner.
She pushed his hands aside to examine his nose. “Yep,
it’s broken.”
“You’ve got to stop her,” he said.
“Hardy, she’s just finger painting on the walls.
She’s not doing any permanent damage.”
“But...” His sentence was cut short by his scream of
pain when Laural snapped the bone in place.
“Just get someone to take you to the hospital and send
a replacement down.”
Hardy glared at her as he held his handkerchief to his
quickly swelling nose.
Laural stood at the door until he had entered the
elevator. After the doors slid shut she punched in
the code to open the secure door. Cautiously she
stepped inside to clean up the mess. At first, she
felt a moment of panic when she didn’t spot Willow.
The scent of smoke directed Laural towards the far
corner. The red head squatted against the wall
smoking a cigarette and staring at what she had
accomplished.
“And God saw what He had made and He saw that it was
good.” Willow said blowing a cloud of smoke around
her head.
****
“What is she doing?” Holland Manners asked the empty
room as he viewed the live feed.
There was a short knock at the door before it opened.
“Holland?” a feminine voice called. Lilah Morgan
stepped inside. “My assistant said you wanted to see
me when I got back.”
Holland glanced up from the monitor. “Yes. Come in,
Lilah,” he said distractedly. He tapped a few keys on
the keyboard and the view widened.
Curious Lilah stepped behind his desk and peeked over
his shoulder/ “Her,” she growled.
Lindsey MacDonald entered the office without knocking.
He smiled at Lilah’s battered face. “Lilah. Back so
soon?” he asked.
Holland ignored the intrusion and continued to adjust
the angle of the camera.
Lindsey stepped behind the desk to see what was so
interesting. “What’s going on?”
“What the...?” Holland muttered.
Lindsey stared at the screen. “It’s a picture of
Angel and his grandchilde.”
“I realize that,” Holland replied. “We need to step
up the plan. This girl is getting on my nerves.”
“What plan?” Lindsey asked.