Part 8 - Angel
Cordelia hummed as she typed up an invoice on the screen, smiling with satisfaction as she put in the figures. The sunlight poured through the windows nearby; she paused for a moment to look out, down onto the street. Everything was quiet, the only sound a single car passing by. She returned to her typing, musing that they could do with some business; everything seemed to have gone so quiet lately. She sighed and returned to her work. When the phone shrilled, she looked up from the keyboard; it was a welcome distraction.
She stretched briefly and brushed her hair back before she picked it up, voice bright. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless, what can we do for you?"
The voice on the other end was clipped and familiar. "Ah, yes, ah, hello, Cordelia. It's Rupert Giles here. May I speak to Angel, or, or Wesley please? It's very urgent. I must speak to them at once." The words tumbled over each other in Giles' haste, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.
"OK, OK, Giles. Relax! I'll go get him, hold on for a moment." Great, Cordy thought, not more business then. She'd told Angel they were heading for trouble, but he wouldn't listen to her. And how long would his mysterious funds last anyway? She shook her head briefly then put the handset on the desk and rose to her feet, pausing to lower the blinds in the office, shrouding it in shadows. She made her way out of the room and next door where Angel was, as usual, poring over a book.
"Angel. Phone call for you. It's Giles," she said, pointing over her shoulder. "He sounds kinda...worried." She glanced round the room. "He wanted Wesley as well - where'd he go? I thought he was here."
Angel was already brushing past her as she finished speaking. "He - went out the back way. He's got a couple of things to do - he'll be back later." She shrugged and ambled after him, perching on the edge of the desk since Angel had taken her chair, and listening to his end of the conversation. She was still none the wiser when he put the phone down and leaned back, eyes dark, frowning.
"So? What was all that about?" she questioned, watching him closely. He looked up at her. "Did Wesleys' spell not work? `Cause, you know, I thought that was all fixed now. Has Faith done something? Has she gone all bad again? I thought you said that it couldn't ever happen, that the spell -"
Angel cut her off. "Something - something's happened. The inmates at the hospital where she was - have been butchered. And from the sound of it, Buffy and the others are next on the list. And Faith is connected," he said slowly. "Giles thinks it might be something to do with - one of the things we did when she was here, either the spell to change them back or the one that Wesley did afterwards." His face hardened and he looked at her, expression and eyes shadowed. "But whatever it is, I'm going to Sunnydale. And Wesley's coming with me."
Cordelia hummed as she typed up an invoice on the screen, smiling with satisfaction as she put in the figures. The sunlight poured through the windows nearby; she paused for a moment to look out, down onto the street. Everything was quiet, the only sound a single car passing by. She returned to her typing, musing that they could do with some business; everything seemed to have gone so quiet lately. She sighed and returned to her work. When the phone shrilled, she looked up from the keyboard; it was a welcome distraction.
She stretched briefly and brushed her hair back before she picked it up, voice bright. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless, what can we do for you?"
The voice on the other end was clipped and familiar. "Ah, yes, ah, hello, Cordelia. It's Rupert Giles here. May I speak to Angel, or, or Wesley please? It's very urgent. I must speak to them at once." The words tumbled over each other in Giles' haste, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.
"OK, OK, Giles. Relax! I'll go get him, hold on for a moment." Great, Cordy thought, not more business then. She'd told Angel they were heading for trouble, but he wouldn't listen to her. And how long would his mysterious funds last anyway? She shook her head briefly then put the handset on the desk and rose to her feet, pausing to lower the blinds in the office, shrouding it in shadows. She made her way out of the room and next door where Angel was, as usual, poring over a book.
"Angel. Phone call for you. It's Giles," she said, pointing over her shoulder. "He sounds kinda...worried." She glanced round the room. "He wanted Wesley as well - where'd he go? I thought he was here."
Angel was already brushing past her as she finished speaking. "He - went out the back way. He's got a couple of things to do - he'll be back later." She shrugged and ambled after him, perching on the edge of the desk since Angel had taken her chair, and listening to his end of the conversation. She was still none the wiser when he put the phone down and leaned back, eyes dark, frowning.
"So? What was all that about?" she questioned, watching him closely. He looked up at her. "Did Wesleys' spell not work? `Cause, you know, I thought that was all fixed now. Has Faith done something? Has she gone all bad again? I thought you said that it couldn't ever happen, that the spell -"
Angel cut her off. "Something - something's happened. The inmates at the hospital where she was - have been butchered. And from the sound of it, Buffy and the others are next on the list. And Faith is connected," he said slowly. "Giles thinks it might be something to do with - one of the things we did when she was here, either the spell to change them back or the one that Wesley did afterwards." His face hardened and he looked at her, expression and eyes shadowed. "But whatever it is, I'm going to Sunnydale. And Wesley's coming with me."