"Mr. Angel, I presume?" He finished placing his glasses on and stuck out
his hand. "I am Rupert Giles, head of the Ripper Talent Agency. This is my
client, Ms. Beth Summers and her assistant, Ms. Willow Rosenberg. Have you
received and signed our non-disclosure agreement?"
Beth rose, ready to make her acquaintance with the owner of the agency. This Mr. Angel, she thought, was looking directly at her. He was dressed in a blood red dress shirt and black slacks. He was incredibly pale but incredibly handsome. While she checked his appearance, she nearly missed the gaze of his eyes on her. A look of recognition, followed by one of anger and then one she couldn't recognize, possibly resolve, flashed across his face before he turned to Mr. Giles to meet his extended hand.
"Its just Angel. A pleasure to meet you." He shook hands with both Beth and Willow, with his hand lingering on Beth's for just a fraction of a second longer than normal, and motioned for all of them to sit back down. "Wesley, have you received and reviewed the agreement?"
"Yes. I have taken the liberty of adding on a few attachments. Mr. Giles, I believe you and I along with your legal team should have everything squared away in a moment. We can move to another room to contact them. This will have no bearing on our agency handling the case." They both adjourned to another room.
"Before you arrived, we were getting the basics of what happened. It appears Ms. Rosenberg arrived after the incident and can give us details on what the intruders were interested in finding. Cordelia and I will take Ms. Rosenberg to another conference room to get the full story and we'll connect them to the end of Beth's tale later."
"Why am I stuck with you? How will Angel take notes? I mean, she did see the mon . intruder."
"That's why he has the sketchpad, lass. Let's go."
Cordelia left the room with Doyle and Willow but gave one backward glance to Angel. "Just for once, I want to be the assigner, not the assignee, especially when there are famous ." Doyle lightly pushed Cordelia out and shut the door behind them.
For the next few moments, the main conference room was silent as both Beth and Angel sat facing one another. Angel was trying his best not to remain calm and, to the casual observer, he was succeeding. His soul was on fire and he felt like he could burst into flames at any moment. She looked exactly like Buffy except she was several years older, probably in her mid 20's, than when he last saw her. Even with her injuries, she was still incredibly beautiful. Her blond hair was shorter than what he remembered but his enhanced senses could smell that she, even in this dimension, still used the same shampoo.
Finally, Beth could not stand the surreptitious glances and stares so she rose from her table and walked around the large conference room. "Nice office you have here. I'm no interior decorator but it doesn't make sense that your nicest conference room has no windows. Afraid of the outdoors?" She challenged.
His silence unnerved and angered her. "Maybe you're one of those people who never leaves his home, or in this case his hotel. I read about it once some something-phobia. Or, because of this something" "Agora" he added. "Yes, agoraphobia, you watch television all the time and recognize me from my popular show. Or you think its me but can't recognize me because of the stupid black eye and stitches on my face." At this point she had finished circling the conference table and was standing directly over him. "I believe, based on the little we know about your agency, you're just plain wacky."
** It looks like her, smells like her, yet it's off somehow. Maybe it's being on a television show that makes her appear conceited.** Angel focused back on the conversation and could tell Buffy, no Beth ** remember that ** was exasperated and waiting for him to say something. "When I find the thing that did this to you," he whispered in a low growl while rising from his chair, "no one will ever recognize it after I'm through with it."
Beth took a step back, shocked by his sudden rise and the genuine sincerity of his words. ** Wow ** "You know, you are wacky and you don't talk much but, O.K., maybe you can help."
"Tell me what happened."
"Yesterday morning, I went to my trailer on my show's set to pick up the scripts for the first two episodes we're filming. Once I stepped into the office, I was attacked by three guys who must have been wearing masks. I managed to hurt one of them but the trailer was too cramped. Next thing I know, I'm in the hospital." She noticed his continued stare and, usually, would be tremendously offended by it. The way he did it instead made her feel safe, protected and cared for. She whispered. "Please stop looking at me that way."
"Sorry." ** Remember, it's not your Buffy. Her name is Beth. Help her. ** He muttered. "You remind me of someone." Speaking louder, he added. "I'm just trying to focus so I can more easily draw what you witnessed. Describe the masks they wore."
"They were red faced, with yellow eyes, a fat flat nose and, I don't know how they did it, a forked tongue." While Beth continued describing the creature, Angel started sketching. A couple of minutes later, he was finished. "Bu . Beth, take a look at this and see if you recognize . Wait, I made a mistake, forked tongue, right?" In his haste, Angel realized that he had drawn Buffy, his Buffy, instead. He put the drawing under his sketchpad and started over. A couple of frazzled minutes later he was finished. "Try this one."
Beth grabbed the drawing. She studied it intently as if she was a teacher grading an art student on a final thesis. "If it didn't have these awful creatures on it, I would say it's beautiful." Beth smiled. "You have a wonderful talent." Angel didn't smile and dipped his head as the memory of the drawings he made, as Angelus, to torture Buffy flashed through his conscience. As quickly as the memory came, he dismissed it. "Do you know why they were there? Did they say anything?"
Beth concentrated and tried to remember. "They were making noises but it was in some language that I didn't know.maybe it was European? I'm sorry. I really have been trying not to think about it." She felt a cool presence on her hands and noticed that he had both of his hand around her undamaged right hand.
"Anything you can remember will be useful." He took one his hands and lifted her face up so he could look directly into her eyes. "I will use everything you tell me to make sure they never bother you again."
Beth continued staring into his eyes. She could see the determination and resolve in his face and bathed in it. She suddenly snapped out of it and took a step back. ** I'm acting like a teenager. What is wrong with me? Is he hypnotizing me because I heard of people who have been and they've done stupid. ** Beth inwardly smiled realizing that her thoughts had run amok again.
Angel had taken a step back as well confused by his reaction and the look she had while staring into his eyes. He had to stop. It wasn't her. Once again, he reminded himself that she needed her help. There was a knock on the door and everybody filed back in to the conference room.
"Mr. Giles and I have finished with the agreement and all is in order. He will provide us any resources we require."
"In return, of course, you will keep this out of the press as much as possible. Beth, if you need anything at any time or if they are not fulfilling their duty," Giles looked directly at Angel. "please call me and I will take care of it. I must return to the office." Wesley left with Giles to escort him out of the building.
"Ms. Rosenberg.uh Willow" Willow gave Doyle a smile. "has been very helpful. It appears that the 'men' in question were searching for something but they didn't find it. She thinks they were speaking Greek and she heard them call out something that sounded like the word 'torture'."
"Beth. You were a lucky lady. If they found what they were looking for or if Willow had not shown up with studio security, they would have killed her.
"Yeah, then the headline in the Globe would be 'Famous actress has fight with trailer and dies; by aliens of course." Cordelia added.
"Doyle. Take Willow with you and search the trailer for any clues. I will take Beth to her house. She might have what they're searching for at home." Wesley returned. "Cordelia, you and Wesley, research mode. Let's go."
They all left the conference room. Cordelia carried the drawings and notes to the main office with Beth following her. Wesley went to get his mystical volumes. Doyle and Angel went to the vault to get weapons that might be needed.
"Cordelia, one of the papers in your stack is mine. I'd like it back."
"Sure, go ahead. I'm going to get some coffee." She placed the documents on the counter.
Beth could not believe what she was doing. She didn't know why and if anyone asked her, she would not be able to come up with one valid reason why she needed to see Angel's first drawing. She found it quickly and it took her breath away. The drawing is beautiful, no scars, no black eye, just dead solid perfect. It's me but when I was younger. ** Have we met me before? No, but he remembers. I need to know. I . ** "Beth, you ready?"
Beth did not hear him approach and was startled. Quickly, she folded up the piece of paper and stuck it down her shirt. "I'm ready. Let's go."
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: Sorry for the delay but the initial version of this chapter was not working for me. Please continue to read and review. Feedback keeps me going. Thanks.
Beth rose, ready to make her acquaintance with the owner of the agency. This Mr. Angel, she thought, was looking directly at her. He was dressed in a blood red dress shirt and black slacks. He was incredibly pale but incredibly handsome. While she checked his appearance, she nearly missed the gaze of his eyes on her. A look of recognition, followed by one of anger and then one she couldn't recognize, possibly resolve, flashed across his face before he turned to Mr. Giles to meet his extended hand.
"Its just Angel. A pleasure to meet you." He shook hands with both Beth and Willow, with his hand lingering on Beth's for just a fraction of a second longer than normal, and motioned for all of them to sit back down. "Wesley, have you received and reviewed the agreement?"
"Yes. I have taken the liberty of adding on a few attachments. Mr. Giles, I believe you and I along with your legal team should have everything squared away in a moment. We can move to another room to contact them. This will have no bearing on our agency handling the case." They both adjourned to another room.
"Before you arrived, we were getting the basics of what happened. It appears Ms. Rosenberg arrived after the incident and can give us details on what the intruders were interested in finding. Cordelia and I will take Ms. Rosenberg to another conference room to get the full story and we'll connect them to the end of Beth's tale later."
"Why am I stuck with you? How will Angel take notes? I mean, she did see the mon . intruder."
"That's why he has the sketchpad, lass. Let's go."
Cordelia left the room with Doyle and Willow but gave one backward glance to Angel. "Just for once, I want to be the assigner, not the assignee, especially when there are famous ." Doyle lightly pushed Cordelia out and shut the door behind them.
For the next few moments, the main conference room was silent as both Beth and Angel sat facing one another. Angel was trying his best not to remain calm and, to the casual observer, he was succeeding. His soul was on fire and he felt like he could burst into flames at any moment. She looked exactly like Buffy except she was several years older, probably in her mid 20's, than when he last saw her. Even with her injuries, she was still incredibly beautiful. Her blond hair was shorter than what he remembered but his enhanced senses could smell that she, even in this dimension, still used the same shampoo.
Finally, Beth could not stand the surreptitious glances and stares so she rose from her table and walked around the large conference room. "Nice office you have here. I'm no interior decorator but it doesn't make sense that your nicest conference room has no windows. Afraid of the outdoors?" She challenged.
His silence unnerved and angered her. "Maybe you're one of those people who never leaves his home, or in this case his hotel. I read about it once some something-phobia. Or, because of this something" "Agora" he added. "Yes, agoraphobia, you watch television all the time and recognize me from my popular show. Or you think its me but can't recognize me because of the stupid black eye and stitches on my face." At this point she had finished circling the conference table and was standing directly over him. "I believe, based on the little we know about your agency, you're just plain wacky."
** It looks like her, smells like her, yet it's off somehow. Maybe it's being on a television show that makes her appear conceited.** Angel focused back on the conversation and could tell Buffy, no Beth ** remember that ** was exasperated and waiting for him to say something. "When I find the thing that did this to you," he whispered in a low growl while rising from his chair, "no one will ever recognize it after I'm through with it."
Beth took a step back, shocked by his sudden rise and the genuine sincerity of his words. ** Wow ** "You know, you are wacky and you don't talk much but, O.K., maybe you can help."
"Tell me what happened."
"Yesterday morning, I went to my trailer on my show's set to pick up the scripts for the first two episodes we're filming. Once I stepped into the office, I was attacked by three guys who must have been wearing masks. I managed to hurt one of them but the trailer was too cramped. Next thing I know, I'm in the hospital." She noticed his continued stare and, usually, would be tremendously offended by it. The way he did it instead made her feel safe, protected and cared for. She whispered. "Please stop looking at me that way."
"Sorry." ** Remember, it's not your Buffy. Her name is Beth. Help her. ** He muttered. "You remind me of someone." Speaking louder, he added. "I'm just trying to focus so I can more easily draw what you witnessed. Describe the masks they wore."
"They were red faced, with yellow eyes, a fat flat nose and, I don't know how they did it, a forked tongue." While Beth continued describing the creature, Angel started sketching. A couple of minutes later, he was finished. "Bu . Beth, take a look at this and see if you recognize . Wait, I made a mistake, forked tongue, right?" In his haste, Angel realized that he had drawn Buffy, his Buffy, instead. He put the drawing under his sketchpad and started over. A couple of frazzled minutes later he was finished. "Try this one."
Beth grabbed the drawing. She studied it intently as if she was a teacher grading an art student on a final thesis. "If it didn't have these awful creatures on it, I would say it's beautiful." Beth smiled. "You have a wonderful talent." Angel didn't smile and dipped his head as the memory of the drawings he made, as Angelus, to torture Buffy flashed through his conscience. As quickly as the memory came, he dismissed it. "Do you know why they were there? Did they say anything?"
Beth concentrated and tried to remember. "They were making noises but it was in some language that I didn't know.maybe it was European? I'm sorry. I really have been trying not to think about it." She felt a cool presence on her hands and noticed that he had both of his hand around her undamaged right hand.
"Anything you can remember will be useful." He took one his hands and lifted her face up so he could look directly into her eyes. "I will use everything you tell me to make sure they never bother you again."
Beth continued staring into his eyes. She could see the determination and resolve in his face and bathed in it. She suddenly snapped out of it and took a step back. ** I'm acting like a teenager. What is wrong with me? Is he hypnotizing me because I heard of people who have been and they've done stupid. ** Beth inwardly smiled realizing that her thoughts had run amok again.
Angel had taken a step back as well confused by his reaction and the look she had while staring into his eyes. He had to stop. It wasn't her. Once again, he reminded himself that she needed her help. There was a knock on the door and everybody filed back in to the conference room.
"Mr. Giles and I have finished with the agreement and all is in order. He will provide us any resources we require."
"In return, of course, you will keep this out of the press as much as possible. Beth, if you need anything at any time or if they are not fulfilling their duty," Giles looked directly at Angel. "please call me and I will take care of it. I must return to the office." Wesley left with Giles to escort him out of the building.
"Ms. Rosenberg.uh Willow" Willow gave Doyle a smile. "has been very helpful. It appears that the 'men' in question were searching for something but they didn't find it. She thinks they were speaking Greek and she heard them call out something that sounded like the word 'torture'."
"Beth. You were a lucky lady. If they found what they were looking for or if Willow had not shown up with studio security, they would have killed her.
"Yeah, then the headline in the Globe would be 'Famous actress has fight with trailer and dies; by aliens of course." Cordelia added.
"Doyle. Take Willow with you and search the trailer for any clues. I will take Beth to her house. She might have what they're searching for at home." Wesley returned. "Cordelia, you and Wesley, research mode. Let's go."
They all left the conference room. Cordelia carried the drawings and notes to the main office with Beth following her. Wesley went to get his mystical volumes. Doyle and Angel went to the vault to get weapons that might be needed.
"Cordelia, one of the papers in your stack is mine. I'd like it back."
"Sure, go ahead. I'm going to get some coffee." She placed the documents on the counter.
Beth could not believe what she was doing. She didn't know why and if anyone asked her, she would not be able to come up with one valid reason why she needed to see Angel's first drawing. She found it quickly and it took her breath away. The drawing is beautiful, no scars, no black eye, just dead solid perfect. It's me but when I was younger. ** Have we met me before? No, but he remembers. I need to know. I . ** "Beth, you ready?"
Beth did not hear him approach and was startled. Quickly, she folded up the piece of paper and stuck it down her shirt. "I'm ready. Let's go."
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: Sorry for the delay but the initial version of this chapter was not working for me. Please continue to read and review. Feedback keeps me going. Thanks.