Fred rolled her head around, working out a few kinks. It had been a late night, and she was ready to turn in. She grabbed a water bottle from the desk where she'd left it and took a sip of the not-so-refreshing, luke-warm liquid. The front door opened quickly. In rushed a young-looking blonde-haired woman. She wore a slinky red dress that accentuated her curves and black stiletto heels which made her legs seem to go on forever. She flipped her rain-damp hair out of her face and adjusted the purse that hung from her shoulder.
"Hi...umm...this is Angel Investigations, right?" She asked.
Fred looked towards Gunn, who's eyes were glued to the woman's body. She frowned, looking at her own. He had said before that she needed to gain a little weight. She was too skinny, and she wanted to make him happy. Looking back at the woman, she wondered if that's what he wanted her to look like.
"Yes it is." Fred smiled despite her deep thoughts, "My name is Fred. How can I help you?" Fred stole another glance back at Gunn, who hadn't moved yet. She wasn't even sure if he had blinked. "And this is my...*associate*, Charles."
Gunn snapped to attention. "Huh? Oh, right. Hi, you can call me Gunn." He extended his hand to the woman who simply placed hers in it daintily and waited for him to kiss it.
"Pleased to meet you, Gunn." Her eyes wandered over his body as her lips curled into a sly smile. "My name is Clarice. You can call me Clari."
Gunn nodded, in a daze. Fred extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Clari."
Clarice looked at Fred's hand and raised her nose into the air. "Clarice, please...Miss Fred." Her smile faded.
"Oh." Fred smiled and tucked some hair behind her ear. "Sorry, Clarice."
"I've come to..." Clarice's eyes wandered over to Wesley, who was exiting his office, his nose in a book. "Why, hello." She grinned.
Fred cursed her heart as it twisted with a twinge of jealousy.
Wesley looked up and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Oh...Good day." He smiled, then stuck his nose back in the book and wandered up the staircase.
Fred watched Clarice's gaze follow Wesley up the stairs and turned a deep shade of red. She looked at the floor and took a few deep breaths, wondering why she was acting like this. She was in love with Gunn, not Wesley.
Clarice turned back to Gunn and Fred, her words directed mostly at Gunn. "I'm looking for a private investigator who will find out who murdered my husband." She retrieved a file from her purse and handed it to Gunn. Fred looked over his shoulder at the photographs and documents that were inside. The man had dark gray hair and glasses. His cheeks were especially rosy and his nose had a little ball on the end of it, which made him look like a Norman Rockwell Santa Claus. He had a jolly smile and a well-fed waistline. Fred guessed he was in his late fifties to early sixties.
"He was the best husband anyone could ever ask for." She said with a sigh.
"We'll do what we can." Fred said softly.
"Well...I was looking to spend some time alone with two...or three...specific investigators." She grinned widely as Angel entered the room.
"Oh." Fred turned and walked away slowly, getting the hint. She walked up the stairs and to her old room.
As Angel introduced himself, Fred locked herself in her old cave. She closed her eyes took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself. Without a victory, she pulled her bed out from the wall. She reached underneath and freed a permanent black marker from its duct tape prison. Where the bed had formerly met the wall, she scribbled on it relentlessly with one hand as she scratched at the paint to find her old words and formulas with the other.
* * *
Wesley tried to rub his eyes, but found his glasses in the way. He took them off and wondered where he was. After replacing the glasses on his face, he blinked and looked around. His neck was sore and stiff. As he rubbed the back of it, he realized he'd slept in his desk chair. He yawned and stretched a little, noticing the blanket that was draped across his lap. He frowned and lifted it, inspecting its color, shape, and size. Without recognition, he smelled it. Lavender and Jasmine. He smiled and stood up, getting an another good stretch before walking out of the office. He climbed the stairs, blanket in hand, and he stopped outside of Fred's door. He went to knock, but noticed that the door was already slightly open. He pushed the door open with ease and walked in quietly. He knelt next to her bed, watching his goddess sleep. Some of her hair had fallen in her face during the night. Wesley gently brushed it behind her ear, hoping not to wake her. He stood and draped the blanket over her sleeping body. With a smile, he knelt down and kissed the top of her head, her soft lavender sent drifting into his nostrils. He walked from the room silently as he had come and shut the door.
"Hi...umm...this is Angel Investigations, right?" She asked.
Fred looked towards Gunn, who's eyes were glued to the woman's body. She frowned, looking at her own. He had said before that she needed to gain a little weight. She was too skinny, and she wanted to make him happy. Looking back at the woman, she wondered if that's what he wanted her to look like.
"Yes it is." Fred smiled despite her deep thoughts, "My name is Fred. How can I help you?" Fred stole another glance back at Gunn, who hadn't moved yet. She wasn't even sure if he had blinked. "And this is my...*associate*, Charles."
Gunn snapped to attention. "Huh? Oh, right. Hi, you can call me Gunn." He extended his hand to the woman who simply placed hers in it daintily and waited for him to kiss it.
"Pleased to meet you, Gunn." Her eyes wandered over his body as her lips curled into a sly smile. "My name is Clarice. You can call me Clari."
Gunn nodded, in a daze. Fred extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Clari."
Clarice looked at Fred's hand and raised her nose into the air. "Clarice, please...Miss Fred." Her smile faded.
"Oh." Fred smiled and tucked some hair behind her ear. "Sorry, Clarice."
"I've come to..." Clarice's eyes wandered over to Wesley, who was exiting his office, his nose in a book. "Why, hello." She grinned.
Fred cursed her heart as it twisted with a twinge of jealousy.
Wesley looked up and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Oh...Good day." He smiled, then stuck his nose back in the book and wandered up the staircase.
Fred watched Clarice's gaze follow Wesley up the stairs and turned a deep shade of red. She looked at the floor and took a few deep breaths, wondering why she was acting like this. She was in love with Gunn, not Wesley.
Clarice turned back to Gunn and Fred, her words directed mostly at Gunn. "I'm looking for a private investigator who will find out who murdered my husband." She retrieved a file from her purse and handed it to Gunn. Fred looked over his shoulder at the photographs and documents that were inside. The man had dark gray hair and glasses. His cheeks were especially rosy and his nose had a little ball on the end of it, which made him look like a Norman Rockwell Santa Claus. He had a jolly smile and a well-fed waistline. Fred guessed he was in his late fifties to early sixties.
"He was the best husband anyone could ever ask for." She said with a sigh.
"We'll do what we can." Fred said softly.
"Well...I was looking to spend some time alone with two...or three...specific investigators." She grinned widely as Angel entered the room.
"Oh." Fred turned and walked away slowly, getting the hint. She walked up the stairs and to her old room.
As Angel introduced himself, Fred locked herself in her old cave. She closed her eyes took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself. Without a victory, she pulled her bed out from the wall. She reached underneath and freed a permanent black marker from its duct tape prison. Where the bed had formerly met the wall, she scribbled on it relentlessly with one hand as she scratched at the paint to find her old words and formulas with the other.
* * *
Wesley tried to rub his eyes, but found his glasses in the way. He took them off and wondered where he was. After replacing the glasses on his face, he blinked and looked around. His neck was sore and stiff. As he rubbed the back of it, he realized he'd slept in his desk chair. He yawned and stretched a little, noticing the blanket that was draped across his lap. He frowned and lifted it, inspecting its color, shape, and size. Without recognition, he smelled it. Lavender and Jasmine. He smiled and stood up, getting an another good stretch before walking out of the office. He climbed the stairs, blanket in hand, and he stopped outside of Fred's door. He went to knock, but noticed that the door was already slightly open. He pushed the door open with ease and walked in quietly. He knelt next to her bed, watching his goddess sleep. Some of her hair had fallen in her face during the night. Wesley gently brushed it behind her ear, hoping not to wake her. He stood and draped the blanket over her sleeping body. With a smile, he knelt down and kissed the top of her head, her soft lavender sent drifting into his nostrils. He walked from the room silently as he had come and shut the door.
