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7 Stakes | Stake Me

Falling into Place [31 Jan 2006|01:25am]

[ mood | busy ]

We managed to arrive in San Francisco without much incident, and also? Without me having to explain away my incredibly stupid "boyfriend" comment I'd made. Then, as usual, motel time. As Wesley was checking in, I walked around a bit, stretching my arms, legs... whatever, you name it. I figured after we checked in, unpacked, yada-yada, that we'd go out and get to that warehouse Giles had mentioned.

If those robot attackers came from there like he thought they did? It would be a big plus in our column in trying to solve this damn puzzle. There were just too many factors that didn't add up. Or they did, and we were missing some puzzle piece still.

Ugh, my head hurt just thinking about it.

I flipped open my cellphone - my new, spiffy, secure cellphone -- and called Wesley's dad. "Hey, it's Buffy. We're in San Fran... oh. You already knew that?"

He was worse than Wesley. Seriously. After a few minutes of lecturing from him on my position in the Council and telling me to check in with Giles more often, I reminded him that he wasn't part of the damn thing and to shove the phone up where the sun didn't shine.

Fine, it wasn't very nice of me. Sue me! I didn't have to call Daddy Dearest in the first place!

Shoving the cellphone in my jeans pocket, I nodded at Wesley approaching. "Your dad says 'hi'," I told him. "Also? He says they found Dana finally. She kept mumbling stuff in Romanian, talking with a British accent, and she spoke of demons." I paused. "Blue demons. She was taken to an institution in Cleveland, but that branch of the Council managed to get her out. Apparently even though she's insane? She's acting like she's been spending some time recently with a blue demon."

I looked at him knowingly. "You thinking what I'm thinking? Cuz right now, I'm thinking that she knows where Angel and everyone else is."

((Open to Wesley))

5 Stakes | Stake Me

Just Friends? [19 Sep 2005|04:12pm]

[ mood | bored ]

I let Wesley drive since I could tell he needed an extra boost to his ego after a session between the two of us that only lasted two hours, which I totally teased him about. Men and their egos. Honestly.

I was flipping the map upside and sideways, trying to make out exactly where we were headed and realizing that being a girl from Southern California meant I knew jack about Northern California. Trying to explain it to someone from out of state was bizarre, too. They just didn't get the whole idea that it was basically like we were two different states.

Up north, you had trees, fog, and Arnold. Down south, you had beaches, sun, and... well, old Arnold movies on cable, so I suppose some things were the same.

Tossing the map aside as I gave up, I decided to brave the OnStar system and use the GPS to see how much longer we had till we hit San Francisco. "Hey, this doesn't work... did you not pay the bills, Pryce?"

Flipping the radio stations until I hit one I liked, I ignored his annoyed look. "You still haven't told me what Giles said to you except that our newest lead about the killer cyborgs was this 'mechanics company'. C'mon, fess up."

Honestly, I actually didn't care. I was just bored.

((Open to Wes))

11 Stakes | Stake Me

Back With the Goods [20 Jun 2005|03:37pm]

Shrugging the strap of the satchel I'd gotten from Jackson a little higher on my shoulder, I fished the motel room key out of my touser pocket and unlocked the door, all while precariously carrying an insensate Buffy over my other shoulder in a modified fireman's carry. The door clicked open suddenly, causing me to nearly lose my two-finger grip on my cane. Persevering, I stepped through the door; hopefully, no one especially curious or civic-minded had observed me carrying an unconscious girl into my motel room.

Gently-- all right, not perfectly gently-- I lowered Buffy down onto the bed, then set the satchel down on the small table.

Wearily, I dropped into one of the chairs and watched Buffy groggily turn on the bed. I hoped she was having a restful sleep, because I might very well not be in the mood for a grumpy Slayer should her current slumber be fitful.

Despite the misadventure of Buffy's having taken a dose of my Vicodin painkillers, the meet had occurred relatively painlessly. Jackson had actually been rather amused at her state, once he'd tumbled to the reason Buffy continually referred to him as 'Tito' in her delirious speech. A few minutes after we'd all found a quiet corner of the library in which to talk, she'd all but fallen face-first onto the table, dead asleep.

Jackson and I completed our business while she dozed, and I managed to get her to her feet and leaning on me so that we could walk to the car in relative normalcy. Buffy spent the trip back to the motel lolling forward in her seat, requiring me to drive with one hand on the wheel and the other on her shoulder, keeping her upright.

But, we'd made it back intact, and so I began removing items from the satchel. Soon enough, I heard the mumbling, slurred speech of someone gradually waking from a drug-induced sleep.

"Welcome back, Summers," I called over my shoulder.

((Open to Buffy))

6 Stakes | Stake Me

We did what? [21 Apr 2005|05:27pm]

[ mood | embarrassed ]


Ouch. My head hurt. I blinked my eyes a few times and saw next to my side of the bed was Wesley's tie that was sorta crinkled, and a belt. Um... ok. I rubbed my eyes and the brand-new headache I was getting and turned slowly to find him in bed next to me, passed out still.

Lifting the covers, I saw he had no clothes. And I was in my underwear only. My eyes shifted carefully back to the tie and the belt and it all fell into place as I slapped a hand over my eyes, tugged on the sheets and tried to cover myself up from embarrassment.

Apparently, I'd had way way too much to drink last night and Wesley and I had come back here for... 'fun'.

Well, not that we didn't have 'fun' normally, of course. Just that, from the looks of things, I'd been drunk and more... uh... 'open' to 'fun'? Oh God, no, not 'open', bad bad bad choice of words.


Ok, I needed a shower and some water and maybe ten thousand aspirin while we were at it. I crawled out of bed slowly, painfully, and saw the time. 1:30 PM. Ok, wait... weren't we supposed to be meeting Wesley's contact or whatever around two to get something from him? Secure cellphones or... UGH!

Brain... not... working.

I looked through Wesley's stuff until I came across some prescription pain-killers from when he'd been released from the hospital. Not aspirin, but it'd do. I gulped down two of them, ran around looking for my clothes - oh yay, on the floor! - and grabbed some clean ones before bapping Wesley on the head. Hard.

"Wake up!" I yelled over my shoulder as I ran into the bathroom. "We're gonna be late for our meeting and don't even mention food to me or last night or anything unless you'd really like to get a taste of what Slayer-strength can do to you!"

The door slammed behind me and I shut my eyes against the warm spray of water.

Crap crap crap.

((Open to Wes))

3 Stakes | Stake Me

My idea of fun [15 Apr 2005|09:45pm]

[ mood | mischievous ]


I was tempted, but resisted. At least I was developing some immunity to Buffy's wiles, at least when she was inebriated as she was at the moment. I helped her to her feet and out of the bar.

"Okie-doke, Pryce... lead the way."

Buffy was quite agreeable and pliant as I helped her to the car, bundled her in, then out and brought her into the motel room. As she looked around, apparently having expected some other, more exciting kind of surprise, her expression took on a clearly disdainful and disappointed air.

Which meant that I needed to think up something good and quickly.

My mind flickered back to the conversation that had gotten this started. Right, we'd been speaking about 'more fun' and 'different things' to do. Ideas started rolling.

Buffy watched dubiously as I began rummaging through my bag. Finally, I found something that should be fairly serviceable for my needs. Hopefully, this would go over well. If it didn't, well... then I'd just have to think of something else. Or buy her another gift.

"Close your eyes," I instructed Buffy, and after some small protest, she complied. I stood behind her and looped the one tie that I'd thrown into my duffel bag at the very last moment, just in case, around her eyes, knotting it quickly but securely behind her head. Eyes covered entirely and hair pulled back, Buffy was now entirely blind.

Stepping around Buffy and verifying that she couldn't see the hand I waved in front of her face, I leaned in and immediately began to kiss her, hard and deep. My arms circled her, and she clutched at me back, returning the kiss with fervor. Our lips pressed and parted, and our tongues met hot and moist.

After a few minutes, Buffy's hands rose, about to push at the makeshift blindfold. I took hold of them and brought them back to her side.

"No, no, no... this is the fun part." I smirked. "Do that again, and I just might have to tie these hands behind your back, Summers."

I lowered my mouth to kiss her again.

((Open to Buffy))

8 Stakes | Stake Me

Drinks [03 Apr 2005|02:23pm]

[ mood | curious ]

"What did she say, just wondering?"

"Mmmm, wouldn't you like to know," I smirked, deciding that telling Wesley Faith thought he was hot and really had wanted to sleep with him while she was in L.A. was probably a bad move on my part. Sure, it would've stroked his ego, but I didn't want there to be stroking. Of his ego. Unless it was by me.

You know what I mean.

I hoped everything I'd said about Spike had made some sorta sense to him, though, and not completely turned him off to the idea of talking to me. Really, I hadn't meant to bring it up, it had just sorta... happened.

"I didn't love Lilah. But I needed desperately to help her... to save her, and when I couldn't, it hurt me deeply. But she did give me credit for trying."

I nodded and didn't say anything since it looked like it was share-time with us. Before, when I'd asked Wesley to talk about exes, it had been like pulling teeth... so I was not about to interrupt him this time around.

"Fred... Fred I loved, but I have to wonder if it was as an idea, an ideal. What one can't have, and all that. And even when there was an 'us', it was gone in an eyeblink."

Again, me with the not talking. Although I filed that little bit of info away for later, since it was the first time he'd been that... well, open about Fred. And him.

"An exes conversation. Are you sure you don't need a drink?"

I pulled up from his arms and returned his smirk, thinking it over. See, normally I would've said 'no, thank-you-very-much, Buffy and drinking together? Not so much a good thing'... but I was figuring we'd had a tiny little breakthrough in talking and, well, us.

"Sure, sounds good," I said before pulling on a jacket and boots again to go out. I would just have to remember to be careful about how much I was going to drink was all. And I could so totally do that. No prob.

"Alright, so where to, Pryce? Better be a nice place, though, not some cheap dive with strippers or something... cuz I am so outta there if it is," I said with a grin on my face.

Yup. Drinks with Wesley. What could go wrong?

((Open to Wes))

4 Stakes | Stake Me

A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou [27 Mar 2005|09:13pm]

The walk along State Street was more than pleasant, and the weather stayed as balmy as every Santa Barbara tourist guide promised right through until late evening. Buffy and I found a small, out-of-the-way trattoria where we were plied with massive amounts of pasta and warm, crusty bread accompanied by bottles of strong olive oil. The owner sang, and I was forced to reveal both my marginal knowledge of Italian and my tin ear.

After being presented with a bottle of very fine Chianti by the owner-- who apparently was under the impression that Buffy and I were newlyweds-- we returned to the car and headed back to the motel. Conversation in the car was much the same as the restaurant-- light, simple, and peppered quite a bit with laughter.

Opening the door, I felt both Buffy and I tense for a moment, searching the room for any potential threats. Once we were both satisfied that there were none, there was a easily detected relaxing.

While Buffy kicked off her shoes and stretched out in one of the chairs, I uncorked the wine and found a pair of actual glass tumblers. Pouring a half glass for us both, I removed my own shoes and sank into the chair opposite. I took a sip of the deep burgundy liquid and savoured it before smiling over the glass at Buffy.

"So the night is still young, and we've little to do until tomorrow afternoon. Any thoughts?"

((Open to Buffy))

8 Stakes | Stake Me

Back to work [14 Mar 2005|09:12am]

[ mood | productive ]

Wesley spent the rest of the day talking to the managers of the motel and trying to pay for the damages we'd caused. I took a quick shower, finished eating - yes, really eating - the rest of our breakfast before packing everything up and getting ready to move into a new room complete with a newer bed.

Looking at the time, I saw we had a teensy amount left before I'd have to go pick up Wesley's new cane, and so I set about to studying my notes again. At least tomorrow, we'd be getting the secure phones to contact Giles and Roger (yeah, I'd given up on what to call him, he was Roger now), so that was definitely of the good.

As for everything else? Ugh, not so much.

I began making little notes next to my first little notes while I waited for Wesley to come meet me in our new room.

Research... no, reallyCollapse )

I sighed, tapping the pen on the paper a few times. All I'd done was raise more questions and answer none of the old ones we already knew about.

"Ugh, I am so not the research-girl..."

((Open to Wes))

6 Stakes | Stake Me

Going with it [08 Mar 2005|10:13am]

[ mood | horny ]

"Uh... what about this Jackson? I mean what if he calls back? Could be important. We're on the run and everything. Do we honestly have time for this?"

"Before tomorrow afternoon? Sure."

I do admit that I was having more than a little fun making Buffy a little uncomfortable with my forwardness. Call it just a little payback for all the dismissiveness I'd put up with in Sunnydale years ago, if you must. I'd stop, though, if I thought she was really uncomfortable and not just in this flirtatious way.

A flutter of nerves seemed to go through her. Buffy paused, thinking, then responded with a wide, knowing smile.

"I see... You planning on breaking it? Just what did you have in mind, Pryce?"

"All sorts of things," I answered, "and better the bed than me, Summers. You're quite the handful, you know."

"Oh, and don't let me forget. I bought you a gift that should be ready in a few hours."

I laughed. "Plenty of time for one or two--"

Never did get the chance to finish that though, as apparently Buffy decided to go with whatever instincts seemed to be guiding us both and kissed me. I kissed her back quite happily, then in one move, stood, scooped her up and deposited her on the bed.

Glancing from Buffy to the table, I was struck by an idea. In the spirit of just going with it, I extracted one of the jelly-filled donuts, and squeezed some of the sweet filling onto my finger. Kneeling beside Buffy on the bed, I smeared a dark red line on her throat and down to her collarbone.

Leaning down, I put lips and tongue to work against her throat, a low "mmmmmm" vibrating against her skin.

((Open to Buffy))

10 Stakes | Stake Me

Taking Care of Business [28 Feb 2005|04:45pm]

[ mood | okay ]

I slept like that, in Wesley's arms with my clothes still on from the fight, and one of his arms around me. No dreams, which - still very good - and when I woke up, he was still asleep. Perfect.

I got the credit card account out that his dad had given him and called up the local specialty-weapons store I'd found in the phone book. There was some silence when I started giving out the specifications for what I wanted the cane to both look like, and also for what weapons I wanted it to have inside it, but eventually they gave me the price, I gave them the account number, and surprisingly? They said it would be done before the end of the night.

Giving myself a tiny pat on the back, I called up the bakery next door and found out they took credit cards too. I placed my order there and said I'd be by in about ten minutes.

I contemplated calling Giles to find out more about Post, or Wesley's dad to find out more period, but I didn't wanna jinx anything. If our phones could be bugged easily, then I didn't wanna have us have to move again so quickly.

I wrote out a little flow chart, though, trying to piece together what I knew. I kept looking at it over and over, knowing it fit together somehow, but the pieces weren't coming.

Trying to figure it outCollapse )

I sighed and bit the end of the pencil. Wow. All I'd done was draw up a timetable more than anything of the facts we already knew. Scribbling at the bottom, I added:

Pryce -

Went out for breakfast. I'll be back in a few. Don't die.

Love, Summers

I grabbed my coat and went to go pick up the donuts for Wesley and shut the door behind me.

((Open to Wes))

8 Stakes | Stake Me

Out for a Stroll [24 Feb 2005|08:29pm]

"Um... yeah, see, I was sorta thinking that too. About the start of an 'us', only with the whole not knowing what sorta 'us' there is, though... Does that make sense?"

Oddly enough, it did. Buffy was much more demonstrative of her confusion, but it was the same uncertainty that I was feeling. And it was that uncertainty that we discussed as we traveled north along the 101 freeway. By the time we reached the motel-- not the luxury of the Biltmore, perhaps, but no slouch-- we'd actually come to the most decisive agreement I think either of us was able to make.

We'd agreed that there was without doubt some strong emotional attachements being formed between us, and that despite any possible reservations on either side, both of us were interested in exploring those feelings and were not inclined to toss them aside.

In short, we were definitely on our way to being an 'us', and that was okay with us both.

Tired by the long drive, after settling in our few belongings in the motel room and after a short phone call to one of my Los Angeles contacts, we drove to Stearn's Wharf for quite possibly one of the best seafood dinners I'd ever eaten. Conversation was much lighter and much more relaxed, and I think we were both glad of it.

We sat and talked and sipped wine until nearly closing time, and afterwards, when I suggested a late night stroll along the beach's sidewalk, Buffy accepted.

Of course, by the time we were but a dozen yards out of the way of the wharf, we were set upon by a trio of vampires. Recently turned youths from nearby UC Santa Barbara, no doubt.

"Ooooh, how sweet. Cradle robber and his girl. Tasty. Gonna make you scream."

I tried very hard to maintain my composure, but I lost the battle.

A chuckle bubbled its way out of me, and I started laughing.

8 Stakes | Stake Me

On the Run [12 Feb 2005|04:32pm]

[ mood | confused ]

I packed my things - which had grown a bit since our shopping trips using the Council's card - so I had to snag one of Wesley's suitcases to stuff everything into it. I had no idea where we going, I... I honestly just couldn't think.

I'd finally thought I was feeling at home in L.A., back in California and all, and now... I didn't know.

"Do we have to leave the state? Can't we got to Santa Barbara or something?" I pouted, trying not to think about the enormity of the whole situation we were stuck in.

Dawn was safe. She wasn't involved in the Council, so that was good. And if Wesley was right about Giles being in contact with Mr. Wyndam-Pryce - err, Roger? What should I call him? - then maybe my friends were ok, too. See, I'd known about Wesley's dad being asked to join the Council and refusing - I'd chalked it all up to him not liking the changes we'd done or something.

I was actually still sorta unclear on those changes.

We had money now, at least. But... "Hey, do we have to do the whole spy-thing now? Get new names or, like, call from pay-phones and stuff now?" I sat down as soon as I was done with packing and sighed. Fine, I was watching Alias too much, sue me.

"Why would Post want you back so badly in the Council?" I yelled at him. God, he was the only hetero male I knew who took as long in the bathroom as a girl did. "Cuz, see, I'm thinking... maybe that was the real reason you were attacked before. By the other robot, the one that looked like your dad. Didn't you say he was after controlling Angel somehow?" I finally got up and went into the bathroom, arms crossed.

"What of that was only part of the reason - like, Angel being all gone is good for him, Post, y'know. He gets what he wants, and now he goes after you... or do you think Giles wanted me to find you?" I was confusing myself. I knocked and finally opened the door, seeing Wesley naked, and shutting the door fast.

"Ok, whoops... um...sorry."

Yeah, Buffy, forget about the fact that a few hours earlier you two had been going at it like bunnies.

Or at least, really enthusiastic mice.

((Open to Wes))

6 Stakes | Stake Me

Talking [08 Feb 2005|10:01am]

"Ok, I don't know what we are, or what you want, or really much of anything right now except I'm uber-hungry, but... I do know that can't be it. After dinner, you and me, talking this all through. ALL, ok? Then... Weird Science time."

Hmph. Now there was a familiar side of Buffy Summers that I recalled very clearly from my stint as her Watcher, and it wasn't with a great deal of nostalgia-- her stubborn streak. She had all the tenaciousness of the terrier Father had let me have for a grand total of three months when I was a boy.

There were many times where that tenaciousness served her well and had laid low many a powerful enemy. Unfortunately, there were also times when it was damn annoying.

Dinner was served, eaten and cleared away in relative silence, as I think we were both more than preoccupied with our own confused thoughts regarding each other. At least I was confused, and thoroughly, though Buffy's own words did seem to imply that she was in the same state.

I had no better idea than she as to what was going on between us, and for once in my life, the last thing I wanted to do was analyze the situation to death. I didn't know why I was so willing to let things progress as they would, but that was how I felt.

I glanced up from table now empty save for two half-full wine glasses over to where the robot still lay sprawled on the floor and then up to Buffy.


((Open to Buffy.))

6 Stakes | Stake Me

Afterwards [02 Feb 2005|01:03pm]

[ mood | contemplative ]

I got out of bed slowly, and headed for the shower to quickly rinse off as I heard Wesley in the kitchen getting dinner ready. With the hot water going, I just stood there for a bit wondering if there was any possible way for me to screw up worse than I just had.

I didn't think so.

I stepped out and towel-dired my hair, quickly putting on a pair of tan slacks and a red long-sleeve shirt, brushing out the tangles in my hair as I sighed. I really didn't wanna go back out there and have to look at him with his face all sad. He'd been so happy - or at least smiling - just a moment ago and I'd ruined it with one word.


Reluctantly, I stepped back out and welcomed the smells of food from the kitchen, but I walked over to the robot instead and began poking at it. Ok, time to think.

No money. No Council. A robot I had no clue how to inspect. Possibly no place to live if Wesley kicked me out after dinner, cuz he seemed like the sort to at least let you stay long enough for that.

"Time for dinner?" I asked idly, then wandered over to where Wesley was and tried to think of something, anything to make it better. Nothing came to mind except 'sorry', and how lame a word is that to people like me and Wesley with our upside-down lives?

So, instead I crossed my arms and just nodded at him. "Um... I'll just... pack my stuff and tell Giles I'm taking the earliest flight to Cleveland. Don't worry about me, I'll be out of your hair... well, as soon as I can get something to eat, actually, if you don't mind all that much."

((Open to Wes))

6 Stakes | Stake Me

Waking up [31 Jan 2005|09:29am]

The first thing I was aware of was the weight against my chest that I'd no longer been accustomed to. That feeling was connected to the warm, comforting sensation of a body pressed against my side, one leg curled over mine, an arm crossing my stomach. I stirred just slightly, eliciting an incoherent murmur of dissent.

It had been a very, very long time since I'd woken up feeling quite this content and comfortable, and so it was with a great amount of internal protest that I opened my eyes.

Buffy was indeed laying with me, her head laid on my chest, my arm keeping her clutched tight against me. There was, I thought I saw, a tiny smile on her lips, and I felt her chest move in slow, deep breaths.

The sky outside the window was dark. I couldn't see the alarm clock properly without disturbing Buffy again, but I did know it was sometime after six o'clock. I settled into the covers and closed my eyes again, trying to sort out just what had brought us both to this particularly contented state.

I'd made love to Buffy. That much I knew, and recalled with my typical Watcher clarity of detail. There had been an attraction building since she'd arrived, really, and the numorous times we'd spent 'making out' attested to that. What I hadn't noticed, though, was the surprising amount of affection that had spilled from us both this afternoon.

So much, in fact, that I'd asked her to stay with me. And in thinking about it, I knew that was exactly what I wanted. I felt a pang, then, remembering that my heart had been in such a very certain place not long ago. But then, things change, and perhaps I'd healed that hurt, that loss more than I knew I had.

I felt Buffy begin to stir, and I opened my eyes, placing a kiss on the crown of her head, and decided I wanted to watch her wake.

((Open to Buffy.))

14 Stakes | Stake Me

NOW [19 Jan 2005|03:18pm]

[ mood | hot ]

I hadn't meant to attack Wesley, but somehow it had come out that way, I think, since he had pulled me on top of him until I could feel how hard he was and...

Oh. My. God.

My hips squirmed against his a bit, and what the hell was I doing writhing against Wesley like a lap dancer? I was saved only because he stopped his assault on my mouth so we could both breathe. I couldn't move, of course, but... ok, did I want to move?

"This still isn't talking, Summers, but... I think that can wait."

My brain was shut off. It was the only rational excuse for my next words.

"Bed. Now."

I struggled to get off him in some sort of ladylike or at least graceful manner, but it didn't quite work. Stumbling a bit as I made it to the bed, I kept trying to think of why I was doing this. Or going to do this. And all I could come up with was... we were both lost.

It was as good an excuse as any for pulling at Wesley until he joined me on the bed. My hands seemed to wander all over his chest and, dammit, he needed to take his shirt off. Forget the fact that I got to see him shirtless anytime I wanted when we went to sleep every night, I just wanted it off. Now.

So, I yanked it off - maybe a little forcefully - and started kissing him again, nibbling a bit on his lower lip as my hands just decided to take a tour of Wesley's chest and back. I kept pressing myself closer to him, as if no matter how close I got it wasn't good enough...

Omigod, he was going to stop. He was going to stop anytime now like we always did cuz it didn't make any sense and he was going to walk away and leave me all alone and horny and...

"Now," I said breathlessly, hoping to whatever deities were listening that he wouldn't leave.

((Open for Wesley))

7 Stakes | Stake Me

Home [28 Dec 2004|03:46pm]

[ mood | irritated ]

By the time we'd gotten back to his place, I'd gotten several calls from Giles on my cell that I'd chosen to ignore, and let the voicemail get them. The cab driver had given us a funny look when we'd stuffed the robot in the back with us, but we'd just smiled and mentioned something about a drunk relative we were taking home, and he bought it.

Good thing I'd had that superb waffle and strawberry breakfast to keep up my stamina, though. I just had a bad feeling...

I threw the robot onto the ground at Wesley's apartment, collapsing on the sofa, and waving a hand at my ex-Watcher. "Pryce, can you get me a soda or something? I'm tired." I made the cute pouty-face that usually worked on everyone, too, just in case he made a big deal about it.

Hey. He didn't have to carry that damn thing, after all. It seemed only fair!

I flipped my cell open and pressed the button for my voicemail, frowning at the three messages left by Giles. After deleting them, I sighed and closed my eyes.

"They cut me off from the Council. Well, not the Council, just their spiffy credit card. Guess Franklin wasn't too happy with the excuse I gave about why you're not back yet," I yelled to Wesley. "God, this is so not good."

It was supposed to be easy. Go to L.A., get Wesley, go to Cleveland. Instead, I'm still here with robots attacking us, trying to play detective about Angel's whereabouts, and kissing Wesley. None of which I fully understood yet.

Well, I understood the kissing, I just didn't understand the why. Ugh, nevermind.

"Hey, I can try and steal you a new cane," I offered as I waited for my soda.

((Open for Wesley))

5 Stakes | Stake Me

Run-In [20 Dec 2004|09:28pm]

Buffy and I were walking back to the apartment from the diner after breakfast when I realized that we'd actually fallen into something of a pattern, even though she'd only been in Los Angeles for a little more than a week. Two out of three mornings, breakfast was a simple affair of coffee and some sort of toast, bagel or pastry, but on that one morning when she'd tried to cook, I'd introduced her to a small diner on the corner of my block.

It was their fruit-topped waffles, Buffy had informed me, that were the selling point that made it a required stop at least every few days.

Of course, that particular morning had been memorable for a much more important reason than a botched breakfast. It had been the first time Buffy and I had kissed-- at least in any substantial way-- and that particular situation was still quite the mystery for us both.

We continued, in our strange stubborn way, to use the same bed at night, but had thus far constrained ourselves to our respective sides. There had been more kissing... a good bit more, in fact... but when we asked each other about the whys and wherefores, there were still no ready answers.

I supposed, as we walked, and I glanced over at Buffy, who was at the moment snickering about some unfortunately attired women we'd seen at the diner, that the 'why' simply wasn't all that important at the moment. More important was just the doing of what one feels is right.

I was trying to learn the lesson that there are some things that shouldn't be over-thought and over-analysed, lest one miss out on chances.

Raising the cane that I still carried, mostly for vanity, I flicked a few stray branches out of my way. That was when I heard it-- the screech of tires as two black SUVs tore down the street and proceeded to smash several parking meters and a postbox to get onto the sidewalk on either side of Buffy and I.

We were both too old hands at this game to not realize we were a target.

"That way!" I shouted, pointing to an alley that would contain both us and our adversaries and keep us mostly out of the public eye. The vehicles followed us, and as expected, cut off our escape.

The doors opened, and painfully familiar forms piled out-- man-shapes clad in black, with featureless metal-plate face masks. Several of them were armed with the hooked chains I recalled, others with different melee weapons. Gripping the cane, I knew it would not be of much help. The pistols, though, under my jacket would be.

"Bad news, Summers, is that I've faced these fellow before, and they're not pushovers. Don't know where they come from or who sent them, and they're not simple to put down."

A cold smirk came to my face.

"Good news is-- they're not human."

((Open to Buffy. Cue danger music!))

6 Stakes | Stake Me

Something Cooking..... [17 Dec 2004|03:31pm]

[ mood | hungry ]

I'd woken up earlier than Wesley cuz frankly, I hadn't gotten over my jet-lag and now my internal clock was all screwed up. Well, that and also the whole sleeping in the same bed thing kept me awake most of the night.

I was, however, starved, and sadly noticed that while we were on our grocery trip, we'd totally forgotten to pick up Cheerios. Which meant I had to cook. Yawning, I grabbed the OJ and poured two glasses - see, I'm nice! One for Wesley - and then got the eggs out.

"Bowl, bowl, umm...butter...pan..." I muttered to myself getting all the things I figured would be fine to make some scrambled eggs and then maybe toast. I mean, I used to make sandwiches for Dawnie all the time. How hard could it be to make something that required fire?

I turned on the stove and nothing happened. Seriously. Nothing. I kicked it a few times, wondering why there wasn't any "poof" noise and pretty bluish fire when I looked closer and saw it was electric. "Ugh...must be a bachelor thing."

Ok, it had sounded like a good excuse at the time to me, at least.

I took the bread and popped that into the toaster first, though, cuz - easy. Make the easy stuff first. Nodding, I turned away from it and saw that the little circle wire thingy was going from black-colored to reddish. Yes! I put the pan on it, then grabbed the eggs and broke them into the bowl.

Was there something else I was supposed to do? I didn't know, Tara was the one always cooking at our place. Shrugging, I dumped the eggs into the pan, then saw the butter at the last second. "CRAP!" I ran and cut a big piece off since I had to make up for the fact that I hadn't put any in there in the first place, and dumped the piece in.

Uncooked eggs splattered everywhere. Then came the smoke.

I turned my head to see the burnt toast and ran. "No, no, no...you were the easiest! Why did you do this to me?" And Why couldn't Wesley have a microwave like normal people? I tossed that into the garbage, then went back to my eggs. Hmmm. Looked uncooked still. I turned the heat all the way up, then tried to attack the coffee maker next.

I had to hit it a few times before finally giving up, though.

"Omigod. I can slay vamps and sling Doublemeat, but I can't make toast."

I slumped into the nearby chair and just sadly watched the eggs bubble.

((Open to Wes))

6 Stakes | Stake Me

Movie Night [16 Dec 2004|12:14am]

It was well into the afternoon by the time I returned home. Unfortunately, though both of the informants that I'd ventured out to question were both alive and well, neither of them knew a whit that was worth my time or effort about Angel and the others. I was coming home with bruised knuckles, a few notches on the blade of my new sword-cane, and even a few specks of vampire dust on the wooden stake strapped to my wrist... but with little in the way of answers.

"A huge battle", one had said. "It was like the Alamo", the second had elaborated. There was, apparently, even rumors of a full-blown dragon being sighted above Los Angeles that night. All of it were details I could have surmised sitting on the couch eating junk food with Buffy.

I'd left both informants alive and with the most strident instructions to contact me if they discovered any new information.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, I was surprised to find the place quite dark.

"Summers? Are you here?"

Finally, I realized that the only light source-- flickering and color-changing-- was emanating from my entertainment center. The demon black market didn't only deal in esoteric magical objects and highly specialized assasin species. An occasional electronics store truck was intercepted on occasion, and on one the raids during my time away from Angel Investigations, I liberated one demon smuggler's wide-screen TV and home theatre system.

All the better to watch football over satellite with.

Buffy was sitting on the folded-up couch and the smell of popcorn was everywhere. My stomach gave an unexpected growl as I sat down beside her, laying my cane aside. She was watching my copy of The Adventures of Robin Hood.

"And how was your day?" I asked.

((Open to Buffy.))

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