TITLE: Viva Las Vegas
SPOILERS: This is an alternate take on what might have happened pre-Epiphany.
DISCLAIMERS: Joss owns all, I own nothing! I'm just borrowing them for a teensy bit.
* * * * * * *
Would things ever be the same again?
I watched her, wondering if she'd ever forget. Ever truly forgive me. Sure, I'd come to my senses. Eventually. But all the rehiring in the world wouldn't fix what I'd done. I could see it in her eyes when she wasn't aware I was looking. See the pain, the sense of hurt that still hadn't gone away. That *I* had caused.
After all, I'd fired her.
* * * * * * *
Would things ever be the same again?
Oh sure, I joke around, make the occasional Queen C comment. But it's hard to forget, hard to just go on like nothing had happened. I want to. God knows I want to. I want it to be like it was before, when things were so...easy. But with all the goodwill in the world and a considerable dollop of acting skill, I couldn't pretend like nothing had happened. Because something had certainly happened.
He'd fired me.
* * * * * * *
I was relieved when the door opened. Maybe a case will help take her mind off things,I thought, help us all get back to the group dynamic we'd had before. We'd been more than just colleagues, more than people who came together for the sake of the case.
We'd been a family.
I was surprised at how much I missed that, surprised at how used to my 'family' I'd gotten. I'd always been careful to avoid those kind of connections. Someone you care about is someone who can be used against you. Not to mention that it's hard to maintain relationships when you're immortal.
"Angel...*so* good to see you." The Host, as always, spoke in the genially affectionate tones of a true lounge lizard.
"A little unexpected to see you." I rose to greet him, walking past the front desk and meeting him in the center of the room.
"Truth is, I don't get out much." He shook my hand, smiling.
"If you're expecting a free concert..."
He laughed. "No, much as I enjoy your particular...song stylings, that's not why I'm here." He paused for a moment. There was silence behind me, and I knew Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn were all listening. "Actually, I have a job for you."
"A job?" I gestured towards one of the sofas set around the former lobby. The other three came forward and joined us. "What sort of job?"
"It's a long story, and it would probably be easier for him to explain." He turned and motioned towards the door. His companion, a man I'd not noticed, moved towards us slowly and, it seemed to me, reluctantly. Correction, I thought to myself. Not a man. Not quite.
"I'm not sure I should be here," said the stranger, glancing behind uneasily.
"Of course you should," said Cordelia warmly. I suppressed a smile. The man was dressed in tailor-made clothing and had that indefinable air that says "money". Which explained her current friendliness. Trust Cordelia to make sure the paying customers, especially the well-paying ones, were treated well. "I'm sure we can help you. Please, won't you sit down?"
The stranger sat down gingerly on the couch, still looking at us warily. "I'm not supposed to talk about this. No one is. If they find out, I'll be fired. But something's gotta be done." He sat back, still wearing his jacket. "I'm a pit boss at the..at a well known casino in Vegas. One of the best. I've been in the business for more than 50 years."
The others looked at him closely. He appeared to be no more than 30, so his statement would have surprised me if I hadn't sensed he was at least half demon.
"But lately...something weird's goin' on. Something I can't explain." He laughed shortly. "And believe me, in 50 years I thought I'd seen it all."
* * * * * * *
I watched carefully as the man spoke. Angel would probably say that I was evaluating his net worth, but he'd be wrong.
Of course, if during the course of trying to gauge whether or not the client was going to be a danger to us, I happened to cast the occasional considering eye over his clothes and/or potential ability to pay his bill, then..well..that was just keeping an eye on the business, so to speak.
"I noticed it a few months ago," the man was saying. "Some of the girls started acting...nervous. Apprehensive before they went on shift. Croupiers, cocktail waitresses, cashiers...didn't matter what line of work they were in, really. If they were young and pretty, and most of the girls in the business are, then they started acting funny. I couldn't get any of them to admit anything was wrong, but I could tell."
He shifted uneasily in his chair. "I started asking questions, trying to see if there was anything I could put a finger on. That was when I got the first warning."
"Warning?" Angel shifted in his seat, and my eyes went to him. He looked...comfortable, I suppose. Content. [Why shouldn't he? He got everything just the way he wanted.] I thrust the negative thought away. "What kind of warning?"
The man shrugged uncomfortably. "Called up to see the big bosses. I was told in no uncertain terms to leave it alone. That no one would be hurt, unless I continued to stick my nose where it didn't belong. I did as I was told, stopped asking questions. That should have been it. Should have been enough."
"But it wasn't." Wesley wasn't asking a question. "What happened?"
"Girls started disappearing." The man's face contorted, then smoothed out slowly. "Started with a cashier one night, then one of the high rollers' old ladies. And then...then it was Lyddie."
He was silent a moment. No one spoke, asked him to clarify, because it was obvious that this "Lyddie" had been different. After a moment, he continued, his voice husky.
"She was a cocktail waitress. Not one of the usual kind, either. She was in college, working on pre-law at UNLV. She was going to be somebody. She had...had a little girl. Some loser left her holding the bag when she was just 18, and she managed to hold it altogether. How many 18 year olds do you know who could raise a kid, hold down a full time job and go to college?" I found myself feeling more than a little sympathetic towards the unknown Lyddie. I knew what it was like being out there on your own, scared, unsure of what to do. I couldn't even imagine what it was like doing all that with a child to raise.
And no, being pregnant with demon septuplets did NOT count.
* * * * * * *
The man was silent again, and I looked at the others. Wesley and Gunn were both watching the man closely, and Cordelia...the expression on her face was hard to define.
That was something new, too. Before all this had happened, before I had my big return-to-evil episode, I'd always known Cordelia, always been able to read her every mood clearly by the expression on her face. But lately she was almost a stranger to me. Wesley and Gunn hadn't appeared to notice anything. In fact, the three of them had definitely bonded as a unit.
And I didn't feel left out. Not a bit.
But Cordelia...my relationship with her was special, had always been special. More so since she'd started having the visions. They were hard on her, and I hated watching her deal with the pain they caused, the physical and emotional toll they took on her. But at the same time, they'd created a deeper bond between us, strengthened the link that was already there. Until I screwed it up. Way to go, Einstein.
And now was not the time to be having a sidebar conversation with myself.
The man continued, but I didn't hear him, as something about Cordelia drew my attention. She looked the same, her expression carefully friendly as she faced the man, but I sensed...I could tell...
"Vision.." she said suddenly, holding one hand up. We all sprang into action...Wesley heading for the kitchen for Advil and water, Gunn and I both hurrying to her side.
Gunn got there first.
He maneuvered himself behind her, propping her up with one arm and grasping her hand with the other. She leaned sideways a little, her head near his shoulder as she fought the vision, fought the pain and the emotions to get what information she could.
I was left sitting to one side, holding her other hand. And that didn't bother me either. Nope, not one bit.
Her face was contorted, a grimace twisting her features into something unfamiliar. Then she moaned a little and opened her eyes, breathing deeply. I let go of her hand slowly. She glanced at me once, almost a question on her face, then she turned to look at our potential client.
"You're right," she said, taking the pills from Wesley, who'd returned from the kitchen. He moved to stand behind her, forming a protective circle along with Gunn and myself. She swallowed the painkillers before continuing. "There's something screwy going on at the...where you work." She looked at me, then at Wesley and Gunn. "It's something big and ugly. And I think it had horns."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, sweetcheeks," said the Host, speaking up suddenly. "That's quite a powerful little vibe you've got going on. Seems like the PTB laid a heavy number on you."
"Oh yeah, and I'm so grateful," she said, sitting back a little. "'Cause it's just *so* much fun to have what amounts to a seizure with no warning whatsoever, causing me to double over while being struck with mind-numbing, migraine-inducing pain and sometimes even enjoying such pleasant side-effects as moaning and/or drooling and have I mentioned how grateful I am?"
I had to smother a laugh. No, things might not ever be the same again.
But it was nice to know some things never changed.
SPOILERS: This is an alternate take on what might have happened pre-Epiphany.
DISCLAIMERS: Joss owns all, I own nothing! I'm just borrowing them for a teensy bit.
* * * * * * *
Would things ever be the same again?
I watched her, wondering if she'd ever forget. Ever truly forgive me. Sure, I'd come to my senses. Eventually. But all the rehiring in the world wouldn't fix what I'd done. I could see it in her eyes when she wasn't aware I was looking. See the pain, the sense of hurt that still hadn't gone away. That *I* had caused.
After all, I'd fired her.
* * * * * * *
Would things ever be the same again?
Oh sure, I joke around, make the occasional Queen C comment. But it's hard to forget, hard to just go on like nothing had happened. I want to. God knows I want to. I want it to be like it was before, when things were so...easy. But with all the goodwill in the world and a considerable dollop of acting skill, I couldn't pretend like nothing had happened. Because something had certainly happened.
He'd fired me.
* * * * * * *
I was relieved when the door opened. Maybe a case will help take her mind off things,I thought, help us all get back to the group dynamic we'd had before. We'd been more than just colleagues, more than people who came together for the sake of the case.
We'd been a family.
I was surprised at how much I missed that, surprised at how used to my 'family' I'd gotten. I'd always been careful to avoid those kind of connections. Someone you care about is someone who can be used against you. Not to mention that it's hard to maintain relationships when you're immortal.
"Angel...*so* good to see you." The Host, as always, spoke in the genially affectionate tones of a true lounge lizard.
"A little unexpected to see you." I rose to greet him, walking past the front desk and meeting him in the center of the room.
"Truth is, I don't get out much." He shook my hand, smiling.
"If you're expecting a free concert..."
He laughed. "No, much as I enjoy your particular...song stylings, that's not why I'm here." He paused for a moment. There was silence behind me, and I knew Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn were all listening. "Actually, I have a job for you."
"A job?" I gestured towards one of the sofas set around the former lobby. The other three came forward and joined us. "What sort of job?"
"It's a long story, and it would probably be easier for him to explain." He turned and motioned towards the door. His companion, a man I'd not noticed, moved towards us slowly and, it seemed to me, reluctantly. Correction, I thought to myself. Not a man. Not quite.
"I'm not sure I should be here," said the stranger, glancing behind uneasily.
"Of course you should," said Cordelia warmly. I suppressed a smile. The man was dressed in tailor-made clothing and had that indefinable air that says "money". Which explained her current friendliness. Trust Cordelia to make sure the paying customers, especially the well-paying ones, were treated well. "I'm sure we can help you. Please, won't you sit down?"
The stranger sat down gingerly on the couch, still looking at us warily. "I'm not supposed to talk about this. No one is. If they find out, I'll be fired. But something's gotta be done." He sat back, still wearing his jacket. "I'm a pit boss at the..at a well known casino in Vegas. One of the best. I've been in the business for more than 50 years."
The others looked at him closely. He appeared to be no more than 30, so his statement would have surprised me if I hadn't sensed he was at least half demon.
"But lately...something weird's goin' on. Something I can't explain." He laughed shortly. "And believe me, in 50 years I thought I'd seen it all."
* * * * * * *
I watched carefully as the man spoke. Angel would probably say that I was evaluating his net worth, but he'd be wrong.
Of course, if during the course of trying to gauge whether or not the client was going to be a danger to us, I happened to cast the occasional considering eye over his clothes and/or potential ability to pay his bill, then..well..that was just keeping an eye on the business, so to speak.
"I noticed it a few months ago," the man was saying. "Some of the girls started acting...nervous. Apprehensive before they went on shift. Croupiers, cocktail waitresses, cashiers...didn't matter what line of work they were in, really. If they were young and pretty, and most of the girls in the business are, then they started acting funny. I couldn't get any of them to admit anything was wrong, but I could tell."
He shifted uneasily in his chair. "I started asking questions, trying to see if there was anything I could put a finger on. That was when I got the first warning."
"Warning?" Angel shifted in his seat, and my eyes went to him. He looked...comfortable, I suppose. Content. [Why shouldn't he? He got everything just the way he wanted.] I thrust the negative thought away. "What kind of warning?"
The man shrugged uncomfortably. "Called up to see the big bosses. I was told in no uncertain terms to leave it alone. That no one would be hurt, unless I continued to stick my nose where it didn't belong. I did as I was told, stopped asking questions. That should have been it. Should have been enough."
"But it wasn't." Wesley wasn't asking a question. "What happened?"
"Girls started disappearing." The man's face contorted, then smoothed out slowly. "Started with a cashier one night, then one of the high rollers' old ladies. And then...then it was Lyddie."
He was silent a moment. No one spoke, asked him to clarify, because it was obvious that this "Lyddie" had been different. After a moment, he continued, his voice husky.
"She was a cocktail waitress. Not one of the usual kind, either. She was in college, working on pre-law at UNLV. She was going to be somebody. She had...had a little girl. Some loser left her holding the bag when she was just 18, and she managed to hold it altogether. How many 18 year olds do you know who could raise a kid, hold down a full time job and go to college?" I found myself feeling more than a little sympathetic towards the unknown Lyddie. I knew what it was like being out there on your own, scared, unsure of what to do. I couldn't even imagine what it was like doing all that with a child to raise.
And no, being pregnant with demon septuplets did NOT count.
* * * * * * *
The man was silent again, and I looked at the others. Wesley and Gunn were both watching the man closely, and Cordelia...the expression on her face was hard to define.
That was something new, too. Before all this had happened, before I had my big return-to-evil episode, I'd always known Cordelia, always been able to read her every mood clearly by the expression on her face. But lately she was almost a stranger to me. Wesley and Gunn hadn't appeared to notice anything. In fact, the three of them had definitely bonded as a unit.
And I didn't feel left out. Not a bit.
But Cordelia...my relationship with her was special, had always been special. More so since she'd started having the visions. They were hard on her, and I hated watching her deal with the pain they caused, the physical and emotional toll they took on her. But at the same time, they'd created a deeper bond between us, strengthened the link that was already there. Until I screwed it up. Way to go, Einstein.
And now was not the time to be having a sidebar conversation with myself.
The man continued, but I didn't hear him, as something about Cordelia drew my attention. She looked the same, her expression carefully friendly as she faced the man, but I sensed...I could tell...
"Vision.." she said suddenly, holding one hand up. We all sprang into action...Wesley heading for the kitchen for Advil and water, Gunn and I both hurrying to her side.
Gunn got there first.
He maneuvered himself behind her, propping her up with one arm and grasping her hand with the other. She leaned sideways a little, her head near his shoulder as she fought the vision, fought the pain and the emotions to get what information she could.
I was left sitting to one side, holding her other hand. And that didn't bother me either. Nope, not one bit.
Her face was contorted, a grimace twisting her features into something unfamiliar. Then she moaned a little and opened her eyes, breathing deeply. I let go of her hand slowly. She glanced at me once, almost a question on her face, then she turned to look at our potential client.
"You're right," she said, taking the pills from Wesley, who'd returned from the kitchen. He moved to stand behind her, forming a protective circle along with Gunn and myself. She swallowed the painkillers before continuing. "There's something screwy going on at the...where you work." She looked at me, then at Wesley and Gunn. "It's something big and ugly. And I think it had horns."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, sweetcheeks," said the Host, speaking up suddenly. "That's quite a powerful little vibe you've got going on. Seems like the PTB laid a heavy number on you."
"Oh yeah, and I'm so grateful," she said, sitting back a little. "'Cause it's just *so* much fun to have what amounts to a seizure with no warning whatsoever, causing me to double over while being struck with mind-numbing, migraine-inducing pain and sometimes even enjoying such pleasant side-effects as moaning and/or drooling and have I mentioned how grateful I am?"
I had to smother a laugh. No, things might not ever be the same again.
But it was nice to know some things never changed.
