Title: Restoring Harmony
Author: Whiskey Meteor
Rating: PG
Summary: Andrew comes to visit Wolfram & Hart. He and Harmony hit it off... sort of.
Disclaimer/Notes: Takes place in Ats season 5. Sort of a rewrite of the episode in which Andrew makes a cameo over. Harmony's point of view.
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I was sitting at my desk, forehead daintily creased in concentration, when it happened:
"Um, hi. Harmony?"
I jumped in surprise. I'd been so busy filing my nails that I hadn't noticed anyone approach my desk, so the sudden interruption startled me. "Geez," I gasped. "Give a girl some warning, will y-" I looked up at mister-startley-pants and my words stopped in my throat. Cute, dirty-blonde hair and big, blue eyes--He was so familiar... Shorter, blonder hair when I'd known him; and he would have been younger, paler... But it wasn't his look that was pinching my brain. Well, it was, but not the physical, clothesy look--the 'I'm trying as hard as my nerdy little tush can to be someone that I'll never ever in a hundred billion years be' look. I squinted as I fought to put a name to the face.
"I'm Andrew?" he prompted, giving up a little half shrug and raising his eyebrows.
I frowned and cocked my head to the side thoughtfully. "Andrew?" I asked. "Did we, like, go to school together or something, because you are *so* familiar." I raised my eyebrows to match his.
"No," he retorted, suddenly offended for no reason. He crossed his arms over his chest, and my memory connected: I'd seen that gesture at least a dozen times in my last brief meeting with Andrew.
"You were part of that gang of nerds!" I announced gleefully, smiling and pointing a perfectly filed nail at him. "Yeah, you guys wanted my help with some hair-brained scam to kill the slayer," I frowned again. "I clearly remember sending two very capable minions to walk you home."
"You did," Andrew confirmed.
I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Well they were supposed to kill you," I said, "not make sure you got back okay."
"Oh." Andrew looked confused. "Well, they tried to kill us," he offered with a shrug, and then glanced down at his feet. "Jonathan was quick, you know for a little guy? And he had this glittery dust stuff in his pocket." Andrew raised his hands and mimed what looked like someone throwing a ball really, really badly. "The dust hit the... your minions, and it totally messed them up--like," his eyes sparkled, "like Han when he first got out of the carbonite, and Leiah was there--and I was *so* surprised when it was Leiah and not Luke."
I shook my head briskly. That was a lot of awkwardness to squeeze into one little nerd. "So, are you like... still," I faltered, picking my words carefully, "evil?"
"Nah-ah," Andrew said firmly. He nodded and gave a modest, sweet little smile. "I'm good now."
"No way!" I bounced on my feet. "I'm good now too! Well, I mean, I'm trying to be good."
"Cool," he nodded knowingly. "Isn't redeeming yourself great?"
"You bet," I agreed half-heartedly, trying to keep up my winning smile. Redeeming yourself sucked--I kept getting wicked human cravings and feeling guilty 'cause I'm pretty sure I could justify eating one, lousy human. I frowned; there was no use pretending. "Oh, who am I kidding. It sucks." Andrew's face fell, and I felt bad for bringing him down. "Sorry," I offered. "It's just hard being good when you're, well, you know, predisposed to evil."
Andrew shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Um, so, anyway." He looked at me carefully. "I'm here to see Angel? Rupert Giles sent me."
I gave a little laugh. "*You're* the special help from England?"
"Yes," Andrew whined. "Rupert said he had the 'utmost confidence in my capabilities'." He nodded, satisfied, and his bangs bounced down onto his forehead. He pursed his lips and tried unsuccessfully to blow them back into place. The hair fell back over his brow. Definitely not evil, I thought. But cute. And sweet in an awkward, nerdy sort of way. He lifted a hand and fiddled with the stray hair until it resigned to stay where he put it.
Definitely not straight, I added and flashed a winning smile. "Angel's not in his office," I said and pointed to Angel's door. "But you can wait in there until I get someone to come talk to you if you want."
Andrew nodded primly. "Thank you for your help," he said. He turned towards Angel's office, but paused in mid-step and turned back. "And good luck with the whole not being evil thing," he added. "I know it's hard, but... but I'm sure you can do it."
"Thanks, Andrew," I offered. "But I'm sure if you got to know me better you'd change your mind."
"Everyone has the power to redeem themselves." Andrew cocked his head to the side curiously. "And your nails are filed flawlessly," he said. "No one with perfect nails could be evil." He smiled reverently and left me for Angel's office, closing the door quietly behind him.
I frowned thoughtfully. I did have flawless nails; maybe I could overcome the whole evil thing. It was nice of Andrew to... well, to be so nice.
I smiled and tapped my flawless nails on my desk for a moment. Too bad he's gay, I thought: the little dweeb had some serious potential. And he would have made a nice, light sna--damn it!
* * *
I made some calls and Andrew didn't have to wait long until Wes came to talk to him. I managed to stand by the door and listen for a while... until I got bored and went back to work. Wes talked a lot about this girl who broke out of a loony bin and started killing people, and Andrew was mostly quiet. A good listener too, I thought. Too bad he was going back to England at the end of the day.
I sat at my computer, scheduling meetings and sending out memos, and wondered what Andrew had done that warranted redemption (because he really hadn't looked all that evil the last time I'd seen him), and what had happened to the rest of his geeky little trio. And I couldn't help but think that believing in *me* was redemption enough for anything that sweet little Andrew could have ever done.
Eventually Angel and Spike came back from wherever they'd been, and by that time all the important people--including Andrew, but excluding me--were crowded into one of the conference rooms. I listened at the door again, and this time, Andrew talked a lot. He talked about how when the world had almost ended Willow did this wicked spell, and how now there were a whole bunch of slayers--and how the loony bin girl was a slayer too. He sounded a little, well a lot, pretentious. But it was sort of cute; he was trying so hard to sound like he knew what he was talking about--but he actually did know what he was talking about.
I was lost in thought when the doors burst open. I jumped out of the way and Spike strode out in a big swish of sexy, leather coat. Angel wasn't long after him, growling a warning to Spike about thinking before just going and doing something stupid.
The rest of the group filed out, talking quietly amongst themselves and leaving Andrew sitting by himself at the table. He looked a little lonely, and for some reason I felt guilty. I put on a smile and waved airily. "So how did it go?" I asked. "I bet Mr. Giles would be way proud of you."
Andrew shrugged non-commitally. "I don't know," he said almost wistfully. "Rupert is surprisingly hard to please."
I thought briefly about the implications of that statement, and swallowed a giggle. But then, the thought of Andrew and the librarian was strangely alluring. I shook my head and focused on the matter at hand. "It sounded like you really know your stuff," I offered. He frowned in confusion and a cute little crinkle marked his brow. "I had my ear to the door," I explained.
Andrew nodded, and then smiled brightly. "Thanks," he said. A moment of awkward silence passed, and then he gestured to a small paper lunch-bag on the table beside him. "Is there somewhere I can eat my lunch?" he asked.
I looked over at the lunch-bag. His name and an English flag were painted on the side--someone who loved him had taken some serious time to do that. I felt a teensy stab of jealousy, because it had been like forever since I'd had someone in *my* life who'd cared that much about *me*. I sighed. "Yeah, there's a lunch room down the hall," I said listlessly. "I'll show you where it is if you want..."
Andrew looked at me carefully for a moment, and then gave me a genuinely concerned frown. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Do you... I mean... I can stay and eat lunch here and we can talk about not being evil if you want?" He nodded to his lunch bag. "Xander packed carrots," he added temptingly.
So Xander's the lunch-packer, I thought. That rumor Larry was passing around in high school must have been true, then. Well good for Xander; Andrew seemed like a good guy. And wouldn't they just make the cutest couple? I pushed the door closed and sank down in a chair beside Andrew at the table. "Does it get easier?" I demanded weakly.
"Kinda," Andrew said, opening up his lunch-bag and laying its contents out on the table. "It gets easier if you have people who believe in you there for support. Carrot?" he offered up a little baggy filled with little carrots and shook it back and forth enticingly.
I reached out and picked a carrot. I took a bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed. "Nobody here believes in me," I said dejectedly.
Andrew cocked his head to the side compassionately. "I believe in you," he assured me.
"Ha," I laughed bitterly.
"Ha?" he asked.
"Ha," I said firmly, taking another bite of carrot. "So the one person in the whole world who believes in me lives in a completely different country like halfway across the world." I popped the last of the carrot in my mouth and frowned.
"Oh." Andrew frowned with me. "But I'm here *now*," he said. "And I'm sure I'm not the *only* person in the whole world who believes in you." I looked at him dubiously. "Well, you're a beautiful young woman," he added. "It'd be easy for you to make friends. I mean, if *I* can make friends, then *you* shouldn't have any problem. 'Nother carrot?" That sounded like a compliment. Maybe I'd been too hasty in deciding Andrew's preference.
I took another carrot. "Does Xander always pack your lunch?" I asked carefully.
Andrew snorted. "I wi--I mean, no."
"Huh," I said. "I always thought he'd be one of those super-thoughtful boyfriends, you know?"
"Oh, he is," Andrew assured me. "I mean, he doesn't have a girlfriend right now, but with Anya he was always really..." he trailed off and narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. "You think *I'm* dating Xander, don't you?"
I nodded apologetically.
"Why does everyone think that?" he whined. "Xander and I are *friends*," he demanded. "We're totally platonic. Except for that one time when Dawn made a love spell and accidentally left it on the counter, and I swear to god it looked just like cranberry juice, but no one ever believes me and Xander drank it too but they don't make fun of him half as much as-"
"Okay, okay, I get it," I cut in. "Yeesh." Andrew pouted and just when I was starting to think he'd beat the habit, he crossed his arms over his chest. So not dating Xander. But that didn't mean he wouldn't if he got the chance. I sighed and changed the topic. "So what happened to your gang? You know, Jonathan and the other guy?"
Andrew gave a little giggle, and then waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry," he said, smiling almost guiltily, "I've just never heard *Warren* get called the other guy." He put the bag of carrots down on the table and looked down at them thoughtfully. "They kinda got killed."
"Oh," I said, taken aback. "...Who killed them?"
"Willow killed Warren." He poked at the carrots.
"Willow?" I asked, stupefied. I mean, I knew she was a goodie and this Warren guy was a baddie... but still... "What happened?"
"He... He shot Willow's girlfriend and she flipped out." Andrew gave a little shrug and his bangs fell back onto his forehead. I resisted the urge to reach out and brush them back. "She tortured him, and then skinned him alive. He deserved it."
Wow. "So she killed Jonathan too?" I guessed. "And what did you do, you know, that you need to redeem yourself for?" I asked. "I mean, I saw you when you were evil... But honestly? You weren't all that evil."
He looked up at me, and there was something dark in his eyes that made me think maybe things had changed after I sent the nerds packing with my *supposedly* capable minions. "Willow didn't kill Jonathan," he said pointedly.
So *Andrew* killed Jonathan? Wow again. And kinda sad, too, because I went to school with Jonathan. I mean, sure, we weren't ever friends or anything. Actually, I think I was pretty mean to him every time I saw him. But still, we survived high school together. Well, *he* survived high school...
Andrew glanced at his watch and sighed. "Well," he said, "I should go phone Rupert and fill him in on my progress." He packed the remnants of his lunch back into its bag and rose from his chair. "It was nice to see you again, Harmony," he said. "If you ever come to England you'll have to come visit me."
"For sure," I said absently, still somewhat stunned by my little dweeb being a killer. I looked up just as he opened the door to leave. "Andrew?" I called, and he turned. "For what it's worth, I believe in you too." Andrew smiled warmly, and then stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
I sat and stared at the closed door for a while after he'd gone, amazed at how lonely I must have been to sit there and spill my un-beating heart to a virtual stranger.
A virtual stranger who'd listened and felt concern and who actually believed that I could be a good person again, I reminded myself. Andrew believed in me. He believed in *me*. "Are you gonna just let the one person who believes in you walk out the door and go back to England?" I asked myself.
And then I made a really, really dumb decision.
* * *
Andrew woke up, bound and gagged and propped up in a chair at my kitchen table. He looked confused, and a little scared--and if I'd been evil, that would have totally turned me on. But I wasn't bad anymore, so it totally had no affect on me at all. Nope, not one bit.
"I'm really sorry, Andrew," I assured him. "I just couldn't let you go." He squirmed in his chair and mumbled something inaudible thanks to the duct-tape stuck securely over his lips. I wrung my hands and paced around my kitchen as I explained myself. "See, you said being good was easier if you had people that believe about you around." I gestured grandly to him. "And you believe in me. So I--" Andrew was trying his hardest to say something despite the gag, and the constant muttering was getting *really* irritating. I stooped over him. "Andrew, I'll take off the tape, but you have to promise not to scream, okay?" He nodded emphatically, so I raised a hand and ripped the tape off in one swift jerk.
Andrew screamed like a girl.
"Andrew!" I hissed. "You promised you wouldn't scream!"
He flexed his jaw. "Sorry," he offered. "But that really hurt."
"Oh," I said, rolling up the scrap of tape and tossing it onto the counter. "Sorry."
"What happened?" Andrew asked slowly, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "I was waiting at the airport, and then I remember going through security at the airport, and then I went to call home and..." He looked at me in disbelief. "Harmony, did you kidnap me?"
"I followed you into the airport, and then when you went to use the phone I hit you on the head and brought you back here." I shrugged. "I had to do it," I insisted. "No one else here believes that I can be good!"
"Well do you kidnap people a lot?" Andrew demanded. "Because I can understand how that might--"
"Don't think of it as a kidnapping," I pleaded. "Think of it more like..." I smiled brightly, "like an extended sleep over!" Andrew looked unconvinced. "We can do facials and rent movies and... and I really am sorry." I sank down into a chair beside my hostage at the table. He was taking things a lot better than I thought he would. I sighed. "Why do I feel so guilty?" I asked.
"Because you kidnapped me?" Andrew suggested.
"Well duh," I agreed. "But I've kidnapped people before and I never felt *guilty* about it."
Andrew nodded knowingly, and his bangs fell over his forehead, covering the little bump that had formed where I'd hit him earlier at the airport. "That's because you're good now," he said. Then he pursed his lips and tried unsuccessfully to blow his bangs back into place. "A little help?" he asked.
I reached over and lightly brushed his hair back off of his face. It was surprisingly soft on my fingers and I had to turn away to stop myself from thinking about biting him. Maybe it was that he was so darn nice to me, but being alone with Andrew was putting all sorts of ideas in my head--and not all of them revolved around drinking him dry and then ditching the corpse in the dumpster downstairs. I couldn't make up my mind whether or not that was a good thing. "I don't think I can be good," I mused out loud. "I mean, I'm a vampire right?" I pointed to myself. "Soulless demon, remember?" Andrew nodded slowly. "So is it even possible for me to *not* be evil?"
"Well, Spike--"
"Has a soul," I cut in.
"Yeah," Andrew agreed reluctantly. "But he was good before he got the soul too." He frowned. "I think..."
"He wasn't," I offered. "And he isn't all that good now, either."
Andrew was quiet for a moment, thinking, and he bit his lower lip thoughtfully. "What about Angel?" he suggested.
"Soul," I reminded him.
"Oh yeah." Suddenly Andrew's face brightened. "Why don't you get your soul back?" he asked excitedly.
I rolled my eyes. "Andrew, Spike told me all about the trials he had to go through to get his back." I shook my head. "They were wicked hard, and *he* barely passed them all. What hope would *I* have?"
Andrew's face fell. "I still think you can be good without your soul," he said quietly.
I sighed. "How hard did I hit you?" I asked. "Remember the whole assault and kidnapping thing?" I shook my head at myself. "Having a hostage in my kitchen doesn't exactly scream 'I'm a good person'."
"Well, you could let me go," Andrew suggested.
I snorted. "Nice try."
He frowned. "At least untie me," he pleaded. "I swear I won't try to escape."
I looked at him carefully. His hair had fallen back over his forehead, and matched with his big, blue eyes he looked so sweet and innocent. I wanted to bite him *so* bad. I sighed and decided that it might be a good idea to untie him so that he'd have a fighting chance if I gave in to the need to feed. "Okay," I said, stepping behind him and untying him. "But if you try to run I'm totally eating you." In front of me, Andrew swallowed and nodded gravely. Beneath his hair's soft curls, his neck looked smooth and inviting. I dropped the ropes to the ground and moved to the fridge to find some blood and hopefully satisfy my stupid stomach.
"You know," Andrew said, "I could still believe in you from England."
I grabbed my thermos from the fridge, opened it and took a long drink. "You just wanna go back home to your-" I made a kissy face and batted my eyelashes at him, "-boyfriend *Xander*."
Andrew shot a spectacular glare my way. "He's *so* not my boyfriend."
"Okay, fine," I glared back. "*Rupert* then."
I didn't think it would be possible, but he glared even harder. "*Rupert* isn't my boyfriend either. We're colleagues. Friends. And he has a very nice girlfriend. And why do you think I want to go home to a *boyfriend*? Couldn't I want to go home to my *girlfriend*?" He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
I faltered. Ever since earlier at the office, I hadn't made up my mind over the prospect of Andrew and *girls*. I eyed him over carefully, taking in the dark-blonde, soft, wavy hair; the big eyes and long, full lashes; the pouty lips; the long, slim fingers draped over the back of the chair neatly... "Fine then," I said. "Girlfriend. Whatever." I took another swig out of the thermos and then slipped it back into the fridge. "Is there?" I asked. "You know, a girlfriend?" I held my breath for a second, and then mentally kicked myself. Why would I care if he had a girlfriend.
Andrew turned his eyes down to the floor. "No," he said sulkily. "But that doesn't mean that there couldn't be."
I smiled. And then frowned and nodded supportively. "Of course you could," I assured him, leaning down and patting him on the shoulder. And then, just when I was being totally supportive, the little dweeb tossed the ropes I'd set on the floor over my wrist and tried to... well, I guess he was trying to tie me up so he could get away or something. And he was faster and stronger than he looked--I'll give him that. But, hello? I'm a fricken vampire.
So before he got the chance to follow through on whatever lame-ass plan he was planning, I had him by the collar, pinned up against the wall. "Ouch," he complained softly. "Please let me go."
"No," I snapped, rolling my eyes. "You promised you wouldn't try to escape!"
Andrew smiled uncomfortably. "Sorry, I--"
"Sorry nothing, mister," I growled. "I told you that if you tried to escape, I'd eat you, and I wasn't joking, either." Andrew whimpered. I narrowed my eyes and let them drift down along his jaw to the soft line of his neck. I could almost *hear* his blood pumping.
"Please don't eat me," he pleaded.
I smiled brightly. "If you didn't want to be eaten, you shouldn't have tried to escape." I put on my lumpy face and leaned in. I felt Andrew shiver, and as my lips touched his skin--which was *so* soft, by the way--he sucked in a sharp breath. I bared my teeth and opened wide, and then I smelled it. "Oh my god," I said, stepping back to an arm's length. "Andrew, did you... pee your pants?" How gross is that. Maybe he didn't have potential after all. I shook my head and put my human face back on.
Andrew closed his eyes. He looked mortified. "I'm sorry," he whined. "I just... you scared me. And I had a big cup of coffee at the airport. And I haven't been to the bathroom since you kidnapped me."
I released his collar. Great, I felt guilty again. "It's okay, Andrew," I assured him. "I'm sorry I scared you. But if you needed to use the bathroom, why didn't you just ask?" He wrung his hands and bit his lip nervously. I eyed the large, icky wet spot on Andrew's pants and grimaced.
"Do you have a pair of pants I could borrow?" he asked quietly.
I groaned. "You see, *this* is why I need you here," I said.
"So I can borrow your clothes when I have an accident?" he asked, slightly confused. "Because, in my defense, this doesn't happen very often. Actually, more like never at--"
"No," I cut in. "See how good I'm being?" I asked. "I didn't bite you, and now I'm feeling *way* guilty for having wanted to do it, *and* I'm feeling guilty for kidnapping you in the first place!" I smiled excitedly. "And it's all because you're here!" I bounced on my feet happily, and pulled a confused and awkward looking Andrew into a hug. And then I remembered, you know, the wet spot, and pushed back to an arm's length again.
"Could I maybe have a shower?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably.
* * *
"Okay, Harmony," I thought to myself. "Just what the heck do you think you're doing?"
"Well," I answered, "you're staring through a conveniently placed crack in the wall at you hostage getting ready to shower."
Okay, so I knew what I was doing. I just wasn't so sure *why*. I mean, yes, Andrew was cute and sweet (and I was just finding out that he had a great little body, by the way) and I did feel the need to keep a close eye on him after his little getaway attempt. But I think the watching him undressing had a lot less to do with the not wanting to let him get away, and a lot more to do with the whole he's hot thing. Okay, there, I admitted it: Andrew was hot. And if he really was straight, then, I reasoned, why not try to convince him stay of his own free will? *I* could be his girlfriend, and we could believe in each other, and (Oh god, look at that ass.) I could get him a job at (That's it, turn around for me, Andy. Wow.) Wolfram & Hart. I stopped thinking and turned all my attention to ogling as Andrew stepped into the shower.
I was so occupied by imagining all the amazing things I could do with a wet, soapy Andrew that my balance wavered and my head bonked against the wall. It made a thud louder than should have been possible, and I looked up from cursing my clumsiness just in time to see Andrew frozen like a deer in the headlights, his hands instinctively moving to cover his nakedness. So modest! How cute is that? But anyway, he was squinting through the glass shower wall. Directly. At. Me.
"Oh crap," I whispered, crossing my fingers and praying that the crack in the wall was small enough that Andrew couldn't see through it. I held my breath and kept as still as I could, figuring that if he couldn't see me already, any extra movement would totally give me away.
An insanely long moment passed, and then he seemed to relax. He uncovered himself (*Very* nice, in case you were wondering. And I'd definitely have to rethink thinking about him as a 'little guy'.) and went back to washing. He looked so innocent and vulnerable, and it made me feel really horrible for... you know, kidnapping him. "Harmony," I thought, "if you want to be good, you're just gonna have to start acting the part."
I sighed quietly and withdrew from my watching post to go back into the kitchen. When Andrew came out, I decided, I would tell him that I was really, really, *really* sorry and that he was free to go.
Ugh, but there was this huge part of me that totally wished he'd want to stay anyway. I could just imagine him going, "Oh, Harmony, don't apologize! It's okay, because I really wanted to stay here with you anyway." And I'd be like, "Really?" And he'd say, "Totally. Because we understand each other--and you're super hot." And then I'd blush and be all coy, and he'd take me in his arms and sweep me off my feet and kiss me like we were in a movie or something.
I sighed dreamily and sat down at the kitchen table--just as I heard the bathroom door open.
Andrew padded into the kitchen, and I didn't think it would be possible, but he looked completely sexy in the pink flannel pajama bottoms that I leant him. "Did you... have a good shower? You pull of pink pretty well, by the way." Real smooth, Harmony. And when did I go and get so nervous anyway? ...Probably about the time I saw Andrew's lithe little body all wet and lathered up...
He shifted from foot to foot and nodded. "Did you... drop something, or...? Because I heard a bump. When I was, you know, in the shower?"
"Oh..." I started. "Because I didn't hear anything. Are you sure you heard something?" He looked unconvinced. "Um... Pipes! It was probably just the pipes," I exclaimed as a stroke of genius hit me. "This is a very old building," I explained hopefully. Andrew seemed to buy it, and he came and joined me at the table. He smelled like soap and hot water and I'm positive I never smell that good when I get out the shower. "Look, Andrew, I'm *really* sorry," I offered desperately. "I should never have kidnapped you."
He shrugged. "It's okay," he said--and FYI, if my heart still beat it would have been going a mile a minute.
"Because you wanted to stay anyway?" I asked hopefully.
"Well, no..." He looked a little confused, and my face fell. "I mean, because you're a vampire, like you said. You're evil by nature."
My face fell even more. I couldn't believe it. This was the guy who was supposed to believe in me, and he just admitted that I was inherit... inhering... That I was naturally evil. "But, you said you believed in me," I whined, on the brink of tears. "Is this because of the kidnapping thing? Because I said I was sorry."
"No!" Andrew assured me. "Don't cry. I do believe in you." He smiled at me sweetly, and if I had been mad at him, that would have totally smoothed things over. "I mean, I think maybe you're being as good as you can be. Being inherently evil and all." He looked at me carefully. "It's like when Sponge Bob made friends with Plankton," he said suddenly.
"Who's Sponge Bob?" I asked.
Andrew looked briefly mortified, and then shook it off. "It doesn't matter," he explained. "What matters is that you're trying to be good, and you are being good."
"Hello? I kidnapped you!" I pointed out.
"But you feel bad about it, right?" Andrew asked, folding his hands neatly on the table.
"Well duh," I said. "But I still did it." I sighed. "I'm just a stupid villain."
"What?" Andrew asked. "You're not a stupid villain. Well, maybe a bit stupid if you don't know who Sponge Bob is."
I threw my hands in the air. "Then please, enlighten me."
"He lives in a pineapple under the sea?" Andrew prompted. "Yellow absorbent and porous is he?" I shook my head and shrugged apologetically. Andrew sighed. "It's a cartoon. He's a yellow sponge."
"You compared me to an ugly old sponge?" I demanded.
"No, I compared you to *Plankton*," Andrew explained. "Who's this little, one-eyed... plankton thing."
I scoffed. "Great," I said. "So you think I'm evil, stupid, *and* ugly."
"What?" Andrew asked, aghast. "You know I don't think you're evil. And I was kidding about the stupid thing. And... and..." he trailed off and glanced down at the table. "And Ithinkyrhot."
"What?"
He sighed, and looked up at me. "I think you're hot."
Oh. Oh! "Really?" I asked excitedly. Well, not too excitedly, because I didn't want to come across too desperate or anything.
"Really," he agreed. "I mean, not that my opinion matters or anything."
"Huh?" I asked, suddenly a little confused.
"Well, I mean, you'd probably rather have... I don't know, Spike's opinion. Or Angel's. Or... whoever. Just, you know, someone *you* think is hot."
Aw. I gave him a reassuring smile. "Andrew, I think *you're* hot." He blushed. *So* cute. I just wanted to eat him up. But metaphorically, not in the evil, vampire way.
"Thanks," he said. "But you don't have to... I mean, just because I'm your hostage, doesn't mean you have to make me feel good about myself."
"Andrew, I'm not lying," I assured him. "I mean look at you!" I looked him up and down. "You've got those big eyes, and the wicked pouty lips, and under all those clothes you've got a great bod--I mean, I bet under all those clothes you've..." Andrew was looking at me with a little half smile. I wasn't fooling anyone. I sighed. "Okay fine. I spied on you while you were in the shower. This building is new. The bump you heard was my head hitting the wall because I was so busy ogling you that I got all light headed..." I hung my head and added, "I'm sorry." Andrew was quiet, and I fully expected to look up and find him pissed right off with smoke coming out of his ears or something. But when I did look up, he was just blushing a little and wearing this sort of sheepish grin. "So you don't... mind?" I asked. "You know, that I went all Peeping Tom on you?"
He waved a nervous hand dissmissively. "I'm flattered," he said. "I mean, not that I like being watched..."
He went so red that I could almost feel the heat coming off of him. I willed him to get up, come over, and kiss me. But obviously my wishful mind-control didn't do diddly, and he stayed where he was. I sighed. It was time to set my prisoner free. I just hoped that now he'd maybe think about staying anyway. "Andrew, I shouldn't have kidnapped you," I said reluctantly. "You're free to go. You know, if you want to."
"Really?" he asked. I nodded. He wasn't bolting for the door, which I took as a good sign. But he seemed really pleased about being allowed to go.
"Yes," I assured him. "You're free to leave."
"No, I mean..." he fidgeted nervously. "I can stay? If I want to?"
Yes!! I barely contained my urge to jump up on the table and do a happy dance. "Of course you can stay," I assured him.
Andrew smiled broadly, and I think it was the best smile I've ever seen. "Because I like England, but... I mean, if I could stay here... with you? That would be *so* cool." He nodded reverently. "I'd be a really good boyfriend. I mean if you wanted me to be your boyfriend," he said. "I could cook for you, and I'll do laundry, and give you foot-rubs." He beamed.
Okay, Andrew, I thought. I get it. You'll be a great boyfriend. I resisted the urge to tell him to just shut up and take me.
"Ooh, and maybe I could get a job at Wolfram & Hart, and then we could work together and then I could come visit you at lunch time and we could--"
I lost my patience and, I'm not embarrassed to admit, lust took over. I lunged up onto the table and pulled Andrew up beside me. "Shut up and kiss me," I demanded.
For a split second, a look of terror crossed his face and I was worried I might have to lend him another pair of pants, but then I felt a warm hand cup my breast (and I wouldn't have pegged him as a breast man, but you never can tell, right?). And then his lips were on mine and it was... kinda weird. Our teeth clunked together. I accidentally bit his tongue. His shirtsleeve snagged on the underwire of my bra. Our foreheads bonked together painfully.
After a minute, when things hadn't gotten any less awkward, we both pulled back.
"That was..." Andrew rubbed his head uncomfortably.
"You could probably still make your plane if we left right now," I suggested.
* * *
Thankfully, the kidnapping and the aftermath of the kidnapping hadn't taken long, and we arrived at airport security just as they were making the last call for Andrew's flight. I prayed the goodbye wouldn't be too awkward.
"I guess I'd better go," Andrew started.
"I guess," I agreed. We went to hug, but thankfully, settled for a firm handshake. "Call me sometime, okay?" I insisted. He nodded. "And I really am sorry," I added. "About the kidnapping. And everything."
"It's okay," he assured me. "I kinda had fun."
How sweet was that? "Oh, what the hell," I said, giving up and pulling him into a hug. It was warm and friendly, and not awkward at all--which was a total relief.
"I really do believe in you," he said when we'd let go.
"I know," I said. The security guy looked at us and tapped his watch pointedly. I glared at him and he backed off. "You'd better go," I said, patting Andrew's arm softly.
He turned to leave, but paused mid-step. "Harmony, you know, what I believe doesn't really matter," he said. "You'll never be good unless you learn to believe in yourself." He was right, and I smiled broadly and waved enthusiastically as the security guy ushered him away towards the plane.
I continued to wave until they'd passed out of sight and then I went and found a big window that looked out on Andrew's plane so that I could watch as it got ready to go. A soft light came from each little window and, in the darkness, almost made the plane glow. I thought about how right Andrew was, and how I was actually starting to believe in myself. I *would* be good, I decided, no matter what. Well, unless it meant doing something evil, but if I'm trying to be good, then that sort of goes without saying, doesn't it?
I wasn't as upset by the whole 'me and Andrew not working out' thing as you might have expected. Yeah, he'd had some wicked potential, but I guess it just wasn't meant for me. It would have been nice to have someone around who believed in me--but, I guess, thanks to Andrew I did: me.
I sank down onto a chair facing the window, and I thought about all the people in the airport that I could--but *wouldn't*--eat. Not because the firm would get mad and Angel would kill me, or because Andrew would be disappointed, but simply because I believed it wasn't the good thing to do. My stomach growled and I halfheartedly cursed Andrew for pointing out that I had to believe in myself. It would have been so much easier to just be evil.
The plane rolled slowly off towards the runway. "I hope being good is worth all the work," I thought. A tall, handsome and trusting looking man with a long, smooth neck walked by. I pouted.
I should have just eaten Andrew when I had the chance.
The End.
Author: Whiskey Meteor
Rating: PG
Summary: Andrew comes to visit Wolfram & Hart. He and Harmony hit it off... sort of.
Disclaimer/Notes: Takes place in Ats season 5. Sort of a rewrite of the episode in which Andrew makes a cameo over. Harmony's point of view.
_______________________________________________________________
I was sitting at my desk, forehead daintily creased in concentration, when it happened:
"Um, hi. Harmony?"
I jumped in surprise. I'd been so busy filing my nails that I hadn't noticed anyone approach my desk, so the sudden interruption startled me. "Geez," I gasped. "Give a girl some warning, will y-" I looked up at mister-startley-pants and my words stopped in my throat. Cute, dirty-blonde hair and big, blue eyes--He was so familiar... Shorter, blonder hair when I'd known him; and he would have been younger, paler... But it wasn't his look that was pinching my brain. Well, it was, but not the physical, clothesy look--the 'I'm trying as hard as my nerdy little tush can to be someone that I'll never ever in a hundred billion years be' look. I squinted as I fought to put a name to the face.
"I'm Andrew?" he prompted, giving up a little half shrug and raising his eyebrows.
I frowned and cocked my head to the side thoughtfully. "Andrew?" I asked. "Did we, like, go to school together or something, because you are *so* familiar." I raised my eyebrows to match his.
"No," he retorted, suddenly offended for no reason. He crossed his arms over his chest, and my memory connected: I'd seen that gesture at least a dozen times in my last brief meeting with Andrew.
"You were part of that gang of nerds!" I announced gleefully, smiling and pointing a perfectly filed nail at him. "Yeah, you guys wanted my help with some hair-brained scam to kill the slayer," I frowned again. "I clearly remember sending two very capable minions to walk you home."
"You did," Andrew confirmed.
I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Well they were supposed to kill you," I said, "not make sure you got back okay."
"Oh." Andrew looked confused. "Well, they tried to kill us," he offered with a shrug, and then glanced down at his feet. "Jonathan was quick, you know for a little guy? And he had this glittery dust stuff in his pocket." Andrew raised his hands and mimed what looked like someone throwing a ball really, really badly. "The dust hit the... your minions, and it totally messed them up--like," his eyes sparkled, "like Han when he first got out of the carbonite, and Leiah was there--and I was *so* surprised when it was Leiah and not Luke."
I shook my head briskly. That was a lot of awkwardness to squeeze into one little nerd. "So, are you like... still," I faltered, picking my words carefully, "evil?"
"Nah-ah," Andrew said firmly. He nodded and gave a modest, sweet little smile. "I'm good now."
"No way!" I bounced on my feet. "I'm good now too! Well, I mean, I'm trying to be good."
"Cool," he nodded knowingly. "Isn't redeeming yourself great?"
"You bet," I agreed half-heartedly, trying to keep up my winning smile. Redeeming yourself sucked--I kept getting wicked human cravings and feeling guilty 'cause I'm pretty sure I could justify eating one, lousy human. I frowned; there was no use pretending. "Oh, who am I kidding. It sucks." Andrew's face fell, and I felt bad for bringing him down. "Sorry," I offered. "It's just hard being good when you're, well, you know, predisposed to evil."
Andrew shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Um, so, anyway." He looked at me carefully. "I'm here to see Angel? Rupert Giles sent me."
I gave a little laugh. "*You're* the special help from England?"
"Yes," Andrew whined. "Rupert said he had the 'utmost confidence in my capabilities'." He nodded, satisfied, and his bangs bounced down onto his forehead. He pursed his lips and tried unsuccessfully to blow them back into place. The hair fell back over his brow. Definitely not evil, I thought. But cute. And sweet in an awkward, nerdy sort of way. He lifted a hand and fiddled with the stray hair until it resigned to stay where he put it.
Definitely not straight, I added and flashed a winning smile. "Angel's not in his office," I said and pointed to Angel's door. "But you can wait in there until I get someone to come talk to you if you want."
Andrew nodded primly. "Thank you for your help," he said. He turned towards Angel's office, but paused in mid-step and turned back. "And good luck with the whole not being evil thing," he added. "I know it's hard, but... but I'm sure you can do it."
"Thanks, Andrew," I offered. "But I'm sure if you got to know me better you'd change your mind."
"Everyone has the power to redeem themselves." Andrew cocked his head to the side curiously. "And your nails are filed flawlessly," he said. "No one with perfect nails could be evil." He smiled reverently and left me for Angel's office, closing the door quietly behind him.
I frowned thoughtfully. I did have flawless nails; maybe I could overcome the whole evil thing. It was nice of Andrew to... well, to be so nice.
I smiled and tapped my flawless nails on my desk for a moment. Too bad he's gay, I thought: the little dweeb had some serious potential. And he would have made a nice, light sna--damn it!
* * *
I made some calls and Andrew didn't have to wait long until Wes came to talk to him. I managed to stand by the door and listen for a while... until I got bored and went back to work. Wes talked a lot about this girl who broke out of a loony bin and started killing people, and Andrew was mostly quiet. A good listener too, I thought. Too bad he was going back to England at the end of the day.
I sat at my computer, scheduling meetings and sending out memos, and wondered what Andrew had done that warranted redemption (because he really hadn't looked all that evil the last time I'd seen him), and what had happened to the rest of his geeky little trio. And I couldn't help but think that believing in *me* was redemption enough for anything that sweet little Andrew could have ever done.
Eventually Angel and Spike came back from wherever they'd been, and by that time all the important people--including Andrew, but excluding me--were crowded into one of the conference rooms. I listened at the door again, and this time, Andrew talked a lot. He talked about how when the world had almost ended Willow did this wicked spell, and how now there were a whole bunch of slayers--and how the loony bin girl was a slayer too. He sounded a little, well a lot, pretentious. But it was sort of cute; he was trying so hard to sound like he knew what he was talking about--but he actually did know what he was talking about.
I was lost in thought when the doors burst open. I jumped out of the way and Spike strode out in a big swish of sexy, leather coat. Angel wasn't long after him, growling a warning to Spike about thinking before just going and doing something stupid.
The rest of the group filed out, talking quietly amongst themselves and leaving Andrew sitting by himself at the table. He looked a little lonely, and for some reason I felt guilty. I put on a smile and waved airily. "So how did it go?" I asked. "I bet Mr. Giles would be way proud of you."
Andrew shrugged non-commitally. "I don't know," he said almost wistfully. "Rupert is surprisingly hard to please."
I thought briefly about the implications of that statement, and swallowed a giggle. But then, the thought of Andrew and the librarian was strangely alluring. I shook my head and focused on the matter at hand. "It sounded like you really know your stuff," I offered. He frowned in confusion and a cute little crinkle marked his brow. "I had my ear to the door," I explained.
Andrew nodded, and then smiled brightly. "Thanks," he said. A moment of awkward silence passed, and then he gestured to a small paper lunch-bag on the table beside him. "Is there somewhere I can eat my lunch?" he asked.
I looked over at the lunch-bag. His name and an English flag were painted on the side--someone who loved him had taken some serious time to do that. I felt a teensy stab of jealousy, because it had been like forever since I'd had someone in *my* life who'd cared that much about *me*. I sighed. "Yeah, there's a lunch room down the hall," I said listlessly. "I'll show you where it is if you want..."
Andrew looked at me carefully for a moment, and then gave me a genuinely concerned frown. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Do you... I mean... I can stay and eat lunch here and we can talk about not being evil if you want?" He nodded to his lunch bag. "Xander packed carrots," he added temptingly.
So Xander's the lunch-packer, I thought. That rumor Larry was passing around in high school must have been true, then. Well good for Xander; Andrew seemed like a good guy. And wouldn't they just make the cutest couple? I pushed the door closed and sank down in a chair beside Andrew at the table. "Does it get easier?" I demanded weakly.
"Kinda," Andrew said, opening up his lunch-bag and laying its contents out on the table. "It gets easier if you have people who believe in you there for support. Carrot?" he offered up a little baggy filled with little carrots and shook it back and forth enticingly.
I reached out and picked a carrot. I took a bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed. "Nobody here believes in me," I said dejectedly.
Andrew cocked his head to the side compassionately. "I believe in you," he assured me.
"Ha," I laughed bitterly.
"Ha?" he asked.
"Ha," I said firmly, taking another bite of carrot. "So the one person in the whole world who believes in me lives in a completely different country like halfway across the world." I popped the last of the carrot in my mouth and frowned.
"Oh." Andrew frowned with me. "But I'm here *now*," he said. "And I'm sure I'm not the *only* person in the whole world who believes in you." I looked at him dubiously. "Well, you're a beautiful young woman," he added. "It'd be easy for you to make friends. I mean, if *I* can make friends, then *you* shouldn't have any problem. 'Nother carrot?" That sounded like a compliment. Maybe I'd been too hasty in deciding Andrew's preference.
I took another carrot. "Does Xander always pack your lunch?" I asked carefully.
Andrew snorted. "I wi--I mean, no."
"Huh," I said. "I always thought he'd be one of those super-thoughtful boyfriends, you know?"
"Oh, he is," Andrew assured me. "I mean, he doesn't have a girlfriend right now, but with Anya he was always really..." he trailed off and narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. "You think *I'm* dating Xander, don't you?"
I nodded apologetically.
"Why does everyone think that?" he whined. "Xander and I are *friends*," he demanded. "We're totally platonic. Except for that one time when Dawn made a love spell and accidentally left it on the counter, and I swear to god it looked just like cranberry juice, but no one ever believes me and Xander drank it too but they don't make fun of him half as much as-"
"Okay, okay, I get it," I cut in. "Yeesh." Andrew pouted and just when I was starting to think he'd beat the habit, he crossed his arms over his chest. So not dating Xander. But that didn't mean he wouldn't if he got the chance. I sighed and changed the topic. "So what happened to your gang? You know, Jonathan and the other guy?"
Andrew gave a little giggle, and then waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry," he said, smiling almost guiltily, "I've just never heard *Warren* get called the other guy." He put the bag of carrots down on the table and looked down at them thoughtfully. "They kinda got killed."
"Oh," I said, taken aback. "...Who killed them?"
"Willow killed Warren." He poked at the carrots.
"Willow?" I asked, stupefied. I mean, I knew she was a goodie and this Warren guy was a baddie... but still... "What happened?"
"He... He shot Willow's girlfriend and she flipped out." Andrew gave a little shrug and his bangs fell back onto his forehead. I resisted the urge to reach out and brush them back. "She tortured him, and then skinned him alive. He deserved it."
Wow. "So she killed Jonathan too?" I guessed. "And what did you do, you know, that you need to redeem yourself for?" I asked. "I mean, I saw you when you were evil... But honestly? You weren't all that evil."
He looked up at me, and there was something dark in his eyes that made me think maybe things had changed after I sent the nerds packing with my *supposedly* capable minions. "Willow didn't kill Jonathan," he said pointedly.
So *Andrew* killed Jonathan? Wow again. And kinda sad, too, because I went to school with Jonathan. I mean, sure, we weren't ever friends or anything. Actually, I think I was pretty mean to him every time I saw him. But still, we survived high school together. Well, *he* survived high school...
Andrew glanced at his watch and sighed. "Well," he said, "I should go phone Rupert and fill him in on my progress." He packed the remnants of his lunch back into its bag and rose from his chair. "It was nice to see you again, Harmony," he said. "If you ever come to England you'll have to come visit me."
"For sure," I said absently, still somewhat stunned by my little dweeb being a killer. I looked up just as he opened the door to leave. "Andrew?" I called, and he turned. "For what it's worth, I believe in you too." Andrew smiled warmly, and then stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
I sat and stared at the closed door for a while after he'd gone, amazed at how lonely I must have been to sit there and spill my un-beating heart to a virtual stranger.
A virtual stranger who'd listened and felt concern and who actually believed that I could be a good person again, I reminded myself. Andrew believed in me. He believed in *me*. "Are you gonna just let the one person who believes in you walk out the door and go back to England?" I asked myself.
And then I made a really, really dumb decision.
* * *
Andrew woke up, bound and gagged and propped up in a chair at my kitchen table. He looked confused, and a little scared--and if I'd been evil, that would have totally turned me on. But I wasn't bad anymore, so it totally had no affect on me at all. Nope, not one bit.
"I'm really sorry, Andrew," I assured him. "I just couldn't let you go." He squirmed in his chair and mumbled something inaudible thanks to the duct-tape stuck securely over his lips. I wrung my hands and paced around my kitchen as I explained myself. "See, you said being good was easier if you had people that believe about you around." I gestured grandly to him. "And you believe in me. So I--" Andrew was trying his hardest to say something despite the gag, and the constant muttering was getting *really* irritating. I stooped over him. "Andrew, I'll take off the tape, but you have to promise not to scream, okay?" He nodded emphatically, so I raised a hand and ripped the tape off in one swift jerk.
Andrew screamed like a girl.
"Andrew!" I hissed. "You promised you wouldn't scream!"
He flexed his jaw. "Sorry," he offered. "But that really hurt."
"Oh," I said, rolling up the scrap of tape and tossing it onto the counter. "Sorry."
"What happened?" Andrew asked slowly, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "I was waiting at the airport, and then I remember going through security at the airport, and then I went to call home and..." He looked at me in disbelief. "Harmony, did you kidnap me?"
"I followed you into the airport, and then when you went to use the phone I hit you on the head and brought you back here." I shrugged. "I had to do it," I insisted. "No one else here believes that I can be good!"
"Well do you kidnap people a lot?" Andrew demanded. "Because I can understand how that might--"
"Don't think of it as a kidnapping," I pleaded. "Think of it more like..." I smiled brightly, "like an extended sleep over!" Andrew looked unconvinced. "We can do facials and rent movies and... and I really am sorry." I sank down into a chair beside my hostage at the table. He was taking things a lot better than I thought he would. I sighed. "Why do I feel so guilty?" I asked.
"Because you kidnapped me?" Andrew suggested.
"Well duh," I agreed. "But I've kidnapped people before and I never felt *guilty* about it."
Andrew nodded knowingly, and his bangs fell over his forehead, covering the little bump that had formed where I'd hit him earlier at the airport. "That's because you're good now," he said. Then he pursed his lips and tried unsuccessfully to blow his bangs back into place. "A little help?" he asked.
I reached over and lightly brushed his hair back off of his face. It was surprisingly soft on my fingers and I had to turn away to stop myself from thinking about biting him. Maybe it was that he was so darn nice to me, but being alone with Andrew was putting all sorts of ideas in my head--and not all of them revolved around drinking him dry and then ditching the corpse in the dumpster downstairs. I couldn't make up my mind whether or not that was a good thing. "I don't think I can be good," I mused out loud. "I mean, I'm a vampire right?" I pointed to myself. "Soulless demon, remember?" Andrew nodded slowly. "So is it even possible for me to *not* be evil?"
"Well, Spike--"
"Has a soul," I cut in.
"Yeah," Andrew agreed reluctantly. "But he was good before he got the soul too." He frowned. "I think..."
"He wasn't," I offered. "And he isn't all that good now, either."
Andrew was quiet for a moment, thinking, and he bit his lower lip thoughtfully. "What about Angel?" he suggested.
"Soul," I reminded him.
"Oh yeah." Suddenly Andrew's face brightened. "Why don't you get your soul back?" he asked excitedly.
I rolled my eyes. "Andrew, Spike told me all about the trials he had to go through to get his back." I shook my head. "They were wicked hard, and *he* barely passed them all. What hope would *I* have?"
Andrew's face fell. "I still think you can be good without your soul," he said quietly.
I sighed. "How hard did I hit you?" I asked. "Remember the whole assault and kidnapping thing?" I shook my head at myself. "Having a hostage in my kitchen doesn't exactly scream 'I'm a good person'."
"Well, you could let me go," Andrew suggested.
I snorted. "Nice try."
He frowned. "At least untie me," he pleaded. "I swear I won't try to escape."
I looked at him carefully. His hair had fallen back over his forehead, and matched with his big, blue eyes he looked so sweet and innocent. I wanted to bite him *so* bad. I sighed and decided that it might be a good idea to untie him so that he'd have a fighting chance if I gave in to the need to feed. "Okay," I said, stepping behind him and untying him. "But if you try to run I'm totally eating you." In front of me, Andrew swallowed and nodded gravely. Beneath his hair's soft curls, his neck looked smooth and inviting. I dropped the ropes to the ground and moved to the fridge to find some blood and hopefully satisfy my stupid stomach.
"You know," Andrew said, "I could still believe in you from England."
I grabbed my thermos from the fridge, opened it and took a long drink. "You just wanna go back home to your-" I made a kissy face and batted my eyelashes at him, "-boyfriend *Xander*."
Andrew shot a spectacular glare my way. "He's *so* not my boyfriend."
"Okay, fine," I glared back. "*Rupert* then."
I didn't think it would be possible, but he glared even harder. "*Rupert* isn't my boyfriend either. We're colleagues. Friends. And he has a very nice girlfriend. And why do you think I want to go home to a *boyfriend*? Couldn't I want to go home to my *girlfriend*?" He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
I faltered. Ever since earlier at the office, I hadn't made up my mind over the prospect of Andrew and *girls*. I eyed him over carefully, taking in the dark-blonde, soft, wavy hair; the big eyes and long, full lashes; the pouty lips; the long, slim fingers draped over the back of the chair neatly... "Fine then," I said. "Girlfriend. Whatever." I took another swig out of the thermos and then slipped it back into the fridge. "Is there?" I asked. "You know, a girlfriend?" I held my breath for a second, and then mentally kicked myself. Why would I care if he had a girlfriend.
Andrew turned his eyes down to the floor. "No," he said sulkily. "But that doesn't mean that there couldn't be."
I smiled. And then frowned and nodded supportively. "Of course you could," I assured him, leaning down and patting him on the shoulder. And then, just when I was being totally supportive, the little dweeb tossed the ropes I'd set on the floor over my wrist and tried to... well, I guess he was trying to tie me up so he could get away or something. And he was faster and stronger than he looked--I'll give him that. But, hello? I'm a fricken vampire.
So before he got the chance to follow through on whatever lame-ass plan he was planning, I had him by the collar, pinned up against the wall. "Ouch," he complained softly. "Please let me go."
"No," I snapped, rolling my eyes. "You promised you wouldn't try to escape!"
Andrew smiled uncomfortably. "Sorry, I--"
"Sorry nothing, mister," I growled. "I told you that if you tried to escape, I'd eat you, and I wasn't joking, either." Andrew whimpered. I narrowed my eyes and let them drift down along his jaw to the soft line of his neck. I could almost *hear* his blood pumping.
"Please don't eat me," he pleaded.
I smiled brightly. "If you didn't want to be eaten, you shouldn't have tried to escape." I put on my lumpy face and leaned in. I felt Andrew shiver, and as my lips touched his skin--which was *so* soft, by the way--he sucked in a sharp breath. I bared my teeth and opened wide, and then I smelled it. "Oh my god," I said, stepping back to an arm's length. "Andrew, did you... pee your pants?" How gross is that. Maybe he didn't have potential after all. I shook my head and put my human face back on.
Andrew closed his eyes. He looked mortified. "I'm sorry," he whined. "I just... you scared me. And I had a big cup of coffee at the airport. And I haven't been to the bathroom since you kidnapped me."
I released his collar. Great, I felt guilty again. "It's okay, Andrew," I assured him. "I'm sorry I scared you. But if you needed to use the bathroom, why didn't you just ask?" He wrung his hands and bit his lip nervously. I eyed the large, icky wet spot on Andrew's pants and grimaced.
"Do you have a pair of pants I could borrow?" he asked quietly.
I groaned. "You see, *this* is why I need you here," I said.
"So I can borrow your clothes when I have an accident?" he asked, slightly confused. "Because, in my defense, this doesn't happen very often. Actually, more like never at--"
"No," I cut in. "See how good I'm being?" I asked. "I didn't bite you, and now I'm feeling *way* guilty for having wanted to do it, *and* I'm feeling guilty for kidnapping you in the first place!" I smiled excitedly. "And it's all because you're here!" I bounced on my feet happily, and pulled a confused and awkward looking Andrew into a hug. And then I remembered, you know, the wet spot, and pushed back to an arm's length again.
"Could I maybe have a shower?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably.
* * *
"Okay, Harmony," I thought to myself. "Just what the heck do you think you're doing?"
"Well," I answered, "you're staring through a conveniently placed crack in the wall at you hostage getting ready to shower."
Okay, so I knew what I was doing. I just wasn't so sure *why*. I mean, yes, Andrew was cute and sweet (and I was just finding out that he had a great little body, by the way) and I did feel the need to keep a close eye on him after his little getaway attempt. But I think the watching him undressing had a lot less to do with the not wanting to let him get away, and a lot more to do with the whole he's hot thing. Okay, there, I admitted it: Andrew was hot. And if he really was straight, then, I reasoned, why not try to convince him stay of his own free will? *I* could be his girlfriend, and we could believe in each other, and (Oh god, look at that ass.) I could get him a job at (That's it, turn around for me, Andy. Wow.) Wolfram & Hart. I stopped thinking and turned all my attention to ogling as Andrew stepped into the shower.
I was so occupied by imagining all the amazing things I could do with a wet, soapy Andrew that my balance wavered and my head bonked against the wall. It made a thud louder than should have been possible, and I looked up from cursing my clumsiness just in time to see Andrew frozen like a deer in the headlights, his hands instinctively moving to cover his nakedness. So modest! How cute is that? But anyway, he was squinting through the glass shower wall. Directly. At. Me.
"Oh crap," I whispered, crossing my fingers and praying that the crack in the wall was small enough that Andrew couldn't see through it. I held my breath and kept as still as I could, figuring that if he couldn't see me already, any extra movement would totally give me away.
An insanely long moment passed, and then he seemed to relax. He uncovered himself (*Very* nice, in case you were wondering. And I'd definitely have to rethink thinking about him as a 'little guy'.) and went back to washing. He looked so innocent and vulnerable, and it made me feel really horrible for... you know, kidnapping him. "Harmony," I thought, "if you want to be good, you're just gonna have to start acting the part."
I sighed quietly and withdrew from my watching post to go back into the kitchen. When Andrew came out, I decided, I would tell him that I was really, really, *really* sorry and that he was free to go.
Ugh, but there was this huge part of me that totally wished he'd want to stay anyway. I could just imagine him going, "Oh, Harmony, don't apologize! It's okay, because I really wanted to stay here with you anyway." And I'd be like, "Really?" And he'd say, "Totally. Because we understand each other--and you're super hot." And then I'd blush and be all coy, and he'd take me in his arms and sweep me off my feet and kiss me like we were in a movie or something.
I sighed dreamily and sat down at the kitchen table--just as I heard the bathroom door open.
Andrew padded into the kitchen, and I didn't think it would be possible, but he looked completely sexy in the pink flannel pajama bottoms that I leant him. "Did you... have a good shower? You pull of pink pretty well, by the way." Real smooth, Harmony. And when did I go and get so nervous anyway? ...Probably about the time I saw Andrew's lithe little body all wet and lathered up...
He shifted from foot to foot and nodded. "Did you... drop something, or...? Because I heard a bump. When I was, you know, in the shower?"
"Oh..." I started. "Because I didn't hear anything. Are you sure you heard something?" He looked unconvinced. "Um... Pipes! It was probably just the pipes," I exclaimed as a stroke of genius hit me. "This is a very old building," I explained hopefully. Andrew seemed to buy it, and he came and joined me at the table. He smelled like soap and hot water and I'm positive I never smell that good when I get out the shower. "Look, Andrew, I'm *really* sorry," I offered desperately. "I should never have kidnapped you."
He shrugged. "It's okay," he said--and FYI, if my heart still beat it would have been going a mile a minute.
"Because you wanted to stay anyway?" I asked hopefully.
"Well, no..." He looked a little confused, and my face fell. "I mean, because you're a vampire, like you said. You're evil by nature."
My face fell even more. I couldn't believe it. This was the guy who was supposed to believe in me, and he just admitted that I was inherit... inhering... That I was naturally evil. "But, you said you believed in me," I whined, on the brink of tears. "Is this because of the kidnapping thing? Because I said I was sorry."
"No!" Andrew assured me. "Don't cry. I do believe in you." He smiled at me sweetly, and if I had been mad at him, that would have totally smoothed things over. "I mean, I think maybe you're being as good as you can be. Being inherently evil and all." He looked at me carefully. "It's like when Sponge Bob made friends with Plankton," he said suddenly.
"Who's Sponge Bob?" I asked.
Andrew looked briefly mortified, and then shook it off. "It doesn't matter," he explained. "What matters is that you're trying to be good, and you are being good."
"Hello? I kidnapped you!" I pointed out.
"But you feel bad about it, right?" Andrew asked, folding his hands neatly on the table.
"Well duh," I said. "But I still did it." I sighed. "I'm just a stupid villain."
"What?" Andrew asked. "You're not a stupid villain. Well, maybe a bit stupid if you don't know who Sponge Bob is."
I threw my hands in the air. "Then please, enlighten me."
"He lives in a pineapple under the sea?" Andrew prompted. "Yellow absorbent and porous is he?" I shook my head and shrugged apologetically. Andrew sighed. "It's a cartoon. He's a yellow sponge."
"You compared me to an ugly old sponge?" I demanded.
"No, I compared you to *Plankton*," Andrew explained. "Who's this little, one-eyed... plankton thing."
I scoffed. "Great," I said. "So you think I'm evil, stupid, *and* ugly."
"What?" Andrew asked, aghast. "You know I don't think you're evil. And I was kidding about the stupid thing. And... and..." he trailed off and glanced down at the table. "And Ithinkyrhot."
"What?"
He sighed, and looked up at me. "I think you're hot."
Oh. Oh! "Really?" I asked excitedly. Well, not too excitedly, because I didn't want to come across too desperate or anything.
"Really," he agreed. "I mean, not that my opinion matters or anything."
"Huh?" I asked, suddenly a little confused.
"Well, I mean, you'd probably rather have... I don't know, Spike's opinion. Or Angel's. Or... whoever. Just, you know, someone *you* think is hot."
Aw. I gave him a reassuring smile. "Andrew, I think *you're* hot." He blushed. *So* cute. I just wanted to eat him up. But metaphorically, not in the evil, vampire way.
"Thanks," he said. "But you don't have to... I mean, just because I'm your hostage, doesn't mean you have to make me feel good about myself."
"Andrew, I'm not lying," I assured him. "I mean look at you!" I looked him up and down. "You've got those big eyes, and the wicked pouty lips, and under all those clothes you've got a great bod--I mean, I bet under all those clothes you've..." Andrew was looking at me with a little half smile. I wasn't fooling anyone. I sighed. "Okay fine. I spied on you while you were in the shower. This building is new. The bump you heard was my head hitting the wall because I was so busy ogling you that I got all light headed..." I hung my head and added, "I'm sorry." Andrew was quiet, and I fully expected to look up and find him pissed right off with smoke coming out of his ears or something. But when I did look up, he was just blushing a little and wearing this sort of sheepish grin. "So you don't... mind?" I asked. "You know, that I went all Peeping Tom on you?"
He waved a nervous hand dissmissively. "I'm flattered," he said. "I mean, not that I like being watched..."
He went so red that I could almost feel the heat coming off of him. I willed him to get up, come over, and kiss me. But obviously my wishful mind-control didn't do diddly, and he stayed where he was. I sighed. It was time to set my prisoner free. I just hoped that now he'd maybe think about staying anyway. "Andrew, I shouldn't have kidnapped you," I said reluctantly. "You're free to go. You know, if you want to."
"Really?" he asked. I nodded. He wasn't bolting for the door, which I took as a good sign. But he seemed really pleased about being allowed to go.
"Yes," I assured him. "You're free to leave."
"No, I mean..." he fidgeted nervously. "I can stay? If I want to?"
Yes!! I barely contained my urge to jump up on the table and do a happy dance. "Of course you can stay," I assured him.
Andrew smiled broadly, and I think it was the best smile I've ever seen. "Because I like England, but... I mean, if I could stay here... with you? That would be *so* cool." He nodded reverently. "I'd be a really good boyfriend. I mean if you wanted me to be your boyfriend," he said. "I could cook for you, and I'll do laundry, and give you foot-rubs." He beamed.
Okay, Andrew, I thought. I get it. You'll be a great boyfriend. I resisted the urge to tell him to just shut up and take me.
"Ooh, and maybe I could get a job at Wolfram & Hart, and then we could work together and then I could come visit you at lunch time and we could--"
I lost my patience and, I'm not embarrassed to admit, lust took over. I lunged up onto the table and pulled Andrew up beside me. "Shut up and kiss me," I demanded.
For a split second, a look of terror crossed his face and I was worried I might have to lend him another pair of pants, but then I felt a warm hand cup my breast (and I wouldn't have pegged him as a breast man, but you never can tell, right?). And then his lips were on mine and it was... kinda weird. Our teeth clunked together. I accidentally bit his tongue. His shirtsleeve snagged on the underwire of my bra. Our foreheads bonked together painfully.
After a minute, when things hadn't gotten any less awkward, we both pulled back.
"That was..." Andrew rubbed his head uncomfortably.
"You could probably still make your plane if we left right now," I suggested.
* * *
Thankfully, the kidnapping and the aftermath of the kidnapping hadn't taken long, and we arrived at airport security just as they were making the last call for Andrew's flight. I prayed the goodbye wouldn't be too awkward.
"I guess I'd better go," Andrew started.
"I guess," I agreed. We went to hug, but thankfully, settled for a firm handshake. "Call me sometime, okay?" I insisted. He nodded. "And I really am sorry," I added. "About the kidnapping. And everything."
"It's okay," he assured me. "I kinda had fun."
How sweet was that? "Oh, what the hell," I said, giving up and pulling him into a hug. It was warm and friendly, and not awkward at all--which was a total relief.
"I really do believe in you," he said when we'd let go.
"I know," I said. The security guy looked at us and tapped his watch pointedly. I glared at him and he backed off. "You'd better go," I said, patting Andrew's arm softly.
He turned to leave, but paused mid-step. "Harmony, you know, what I believe doesn't really matter," he said. "You'll never be good unless you learn to believe in yourself." He was right, and I smiled broadly and waved enthusiastically as the security guy ushered him away towards the plane.
I continued to wave until they'd passed out of sight and then I went and found a big window that looked out on Andrew's plane so that I could watch as it got ready to go. A soft light came from each little window and, in the darkness, almost made the plane glow. I thought about how right Andrew was, and how I was actually starting to believe in myself. I *would* be good, I decided, no matter what. Well, unless it meant doing something evil, but if I'm trying to be good, then that sort of goes without saying, doesn't it?
I wasn't as upset by the whole 'me and Andrew not working out' thing as you might have expected. Yeah, he'd had some wicked potential, but I guess it just wasn't meant for me. It would have been nice to have someone around who believed in me--but, I guess, thanks to Andrew I did: me.
I sank down onto a chair facing the window, and I thought about all the people in the airport that I could--but *wouldn't*--eat. Not because the firm would get mad and Angel would kill me, or because Andrew would be disappointed, but simply because I believed it wasn't the good thing to do. My stomach growled and I halfheartedly cursed Andrew for pointing out that I had to believe in myself. It would have been so much easier to just be evil.
The plane rolled slowly off towards the runway. "I hope being good is worth all the work," I thought. A tall, handsome and trusting looking man with a long, smooth neck walked by. I pouted.
I should have just eaten Andrew when I had the chance.
The End.