Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy The Vampire Slayer or Angel. I claim all rights to characters of my creation including but not limited to Marguerite and Sarah.
A/N Some of you may recognize this as being very similar to Arms Deals. Well that's because this is the umpteenth and hopefully final reincarnation. I come to this one with more knowledge, practice, and more time to devote. Let me know what you think. The first chapter is short because it's a sort of teaser.
Marguerite was starting to get annoyed. She'd been sitting in the lobby for nearly fifteen minutes and there was no sign of the secretary that had gone to inform Wesley of her arrival. Not to mention the whole place gave her the creeps. In fact, the whole city gave her the creeps. Even in broad daylight she could feel that Los Angeles was crawling with vampires. Finally after another five minutes of impatient foot tapping the secretary came back.
"Ms. Pierce?" the polished middle-aged woman questioned.
"Yes?" she questioned
"Mr. Pryce is busy," the woman fidgeted.
"Something wrong?" Marguerite stood.
"No, nothing," the secretary said a little to quickly,and pasted the plastic smile back on her face, "but he's in a meeting with a client. If you call in the morning I might be able to fit you in next week.
"Sure," Marguerite smiled and nodded, but as soon as the secretary had returned to her desk the young woman was walking in the opposite direction of the exit. She knew exactly where Wesley's office was. It had been her hope to appear as one of the firm's many clients. If was the way he wanted to play it though...
Wesley was sitting at his desk running over scenarios in his head. Why now? Why now after all this time would his sister contact him? They hadn't spoken since he'd joined Wolfram & Hart, since he'd hung up on her in anger. Really he'd expected her to call back or for he himself to pick up up the phone and dial, but neither of those things had happened. He'd been too stubborn and she, well, he must have finally pushed her to far.
Now out of the blue here she was. Perhaps she'd heard about what had happened on the roof last week. Though he doubted that. Instead of the message on his voice mail last night he probably would have gotten a sympathy card that it had been a cyborg and not the real thing. And instead of her real name she'd used the pseudonym Maria Pierce, a name that hadn't seen the light of day since she'd published a paper on organized crime back in college.
He was startled when the door swung open, but he recovered quickly.
"It appears I'll have to fire my secretary," he frowned as one hand casually slipped under his desk. The woman standing before him probably wasn't any more than 5'2" without the heels she was wearing and didn't look particularly threatening, but he wasn't about to take chances in a place like this.
"Panic button or gun?" Marguerite asked leaning back against the door as it swung shut.
"Both," he replied bringing the gun to rest next to his phone, "but I don't think I'll be using the first."
"You're planning to shoot me?"
"Well that depends on who you are and why you're here."
"Maria Pierce. I believe I told your soon to be fired secretary that. Then again she said you were in a meeting, so unless your clients invisible, maybe you didn't get the message."
"You are not Maria Pierce."
"For a child prodigy you sure turned out dense," she shook her head, "However that's not my problem. I'm just here to give you this." Marguerite tossed an envelope onto the desk. "Don't open it here." When she turned her back to leave she heard the metallic click of a safety being released.
"We're not finished."
"Put the gun away Wesley. Do you really want to explain to Sarah that you shot her slayer?" she asked her hand still on the door knob.
"You could be anybody," he shook his head.
"Should have listened to that message a little closer," she replied. Instead of waiting for an answer she turned the knob the rest of the way and left. It wasn't until she was a block from the building that she let out the breath she'd been holding. Something told her Wesley was fully capable of firing that gun at a living, breathing, human being and if the last three years had taught her anything it was to trust her instincts. Another thing her instincts told were that all of them were about to climb into a hand basket for a quick trip to hell if she and her Watcher messed with Wolfram & Hart, but her loyalty held her in place. Sarah was family in everything but blood, which made Wesley family, which made it her problem if he was in trouble; and boy was he in so much trouble.