Part Five-
I ate my sandwich slowly, chewing each bite thoughtfully. Each bite that I swallowed felt like a pound of cement in my belly. I was nervous. Who would I be meeting? And, how many? I wasn't used to be around very many people, only being around a handful at a time my whole life. I finally finished my lunch and walked over to my mirror, gazing at the person staring back at me. Me. No matter how many times I gazed at myself, I always felt a sense of deja vue Like, I had gazed at this face somewhere, another place, another *time*. It's hard to explain, to understand even. I sigh heavily and turn around quickly when I feel someone looking at me. There's no one there. The hairs on the back of my neck raise in warning, shivers crawling down my spine. My fists clench and I look around.
"Who's there?" I call out tightly.
No one answers, but the feeling is still there. I close my eyes and run my hands through my hair wondering if I'm going insane. Wouldn't rule out that possibility. My door opens and I jump, glaring at the intruder. It's Wes and my face softens.
"Are you all done?" He asks, gesturing to my plate.
I nod and stand up, taking the hand Wes has outstretched.
"You ready?" He asks me.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and nod yes, my heart pounding almost painfully. Wes leads me down a maze of hallways and stairs and I'm sure I'll never find my way around here. We come to a large red carpeted staircase and Wes squeezes my hand. We walk briskly down and I see about a dozen people or so just milling about, doing there's jobs, I suppose. But, all commotion stops when they see me. Half look like they want to cry, the others just stare dumbfounded.
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Anne."
*
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Anne." Wes says, but I catch an undertone of a warning.
A warning of what? I don't know. I feel so uncomfortable underneath their searching stares.
"Hi." I say in a small voice, slowly moving behind Wes a little bit, to shield me from their eyes.
"Hi! I'm Anya. Anya Harris, pleased to meet you, *Anne*." This blonde girl says, stepping right up and shaking my hand firmly. She seems to say my name falsely, as if she wants to say something else.
I nod slowly, wishing she'd let go of my hand. All these people seem older than me, by at least ten years.
"This is Xander, my *husband*." Anya says, her voice full of warning that I better not steal her man.
I nod again, squeezing Wes's hand with bruising force, I'm sure.
"Anya, honey, don't scare the girl." Xander says, his voice almost flat like he's hiding his emotions.
Another girl steps up, she's a redhead. Her eye's seem to burn with anger, but she plasters on a fake smile and takes my hand.
"I'm Willow." She says.
She scares me. Her hands are shaking in anger. She grips my small hands until her knuckles turn white. I take a step back from her and pull my hands away. Her eyes seem black, but no one else sees it. They're all to busy staring at me. I press myself to Wes's side and he smiles down at me. I think I hear a soft growl and look up to find the source. At the end of the long lobby was a man. A tall, dark, and handsome, 'take me now' sort of man. His eyes were chocolate, his hair spiked, and brown. He wore black slacks and a black button up shirt. He stared at me, his eyes wide, unbelieving, and angry. I looked away quickly. I don't want to be here! I try and smile at them, but I feel like I'm being inspected.
"Can we go somewhere?" I ask Wes.
He looks from them, to me, and understands, "Where would you like to go?" He asks, leading me away.
"Anywhere but here." I plead softly.
I can't handle so many people. I just freeze. When you've been locked up your whole life, crowds scare you. At least they do me. I'm not sure what to say to everyone, on account of I don't have very developed social skills, I guess. Wes knows what I'm talking about. He'll always know.
To my surprise, Wes tours me around the monstrously large hotel. It's got four floors, I'm told. The first is mostly the lobby, kitchen, ballroom, and the maid's quarters
"They have maids?" I asked incredulously.
Wes laughs, shaking his head, "No, darling, this used to be a thriving hotel in the 1950s, before Angel bought it." Wes explained.
"Oh." I said, then, "Who's Angel?"
My simple question made him look at me closely, his blue eyes searching my face. His looked very disturbed, then in a strange voice he said, "Angel is the owner. I think you'll meet him soon, when the time is right."
When the time is right? What did he mean?
"The red head, I don't like her." I said, remembering how her eyes seemed to gaze through me angrily.
Again, he looked troubled. He didn't answer me and began to explain what the other floors of the hotel. The second was common room. Just bedrooms with bathrooms. The third was slightly more favored. Having a sitting room, bathroom, and a bedroom. Like a boarding house might. The fourth floor were where the extravagant penthouses were. Wes told me that some of the people who worked here stayed in some of these.
"Am I going to stay here?" I asked.
Wes shrugged, "I suppose, if you wish." He answered.
"Can I pick my own room?" I asked, getting excited now.
"Of course."
"Can I decorate it?" I asked, a girlish smile forming.
"I would suppose, it being your room. But, I must speak with Angel first, to see if that is alright with him."
My smile grew. I couldn't wait to explore this place and pick out the perfect room for me, all me.
"Could I meet Angel?" I asked, wanting to see this mystery man.
"He's a very busy man. In time you will, darling. In time."
*
We had gone back downstairs and Wes went in search of this Angel person. I sat on plush red couches, watching everyone work. I saw the brunette, Cordelia, sitting at a computer, chatting away with Anya. Her husband, Xander, was no where to be seen. I saw the red head, Willow, reading a thick book. There was an older man, his hair chestnut colored, curling slight. He had round glasses and a friendly face. H was on the phone, his eyes meeting mine. He gave me a smile, his eyes twinkling. I nodded slightly and smiled back. I thought the shine of his eyes, were tears, but why would he cry? He turned back to his work and I felt the couch dip under someone else's weight. Gunn sat next to me, smiling foolishly.
"What?" I asked suspiciously, my own lips curling into a smile.
"I wanna show ya somethin'. He said, taking my hand and leading me to a back room. There were ancient weapons hanging on the gray brick walls. I stared amazed, my eyes wide. The blades of the knifes and daggers shone wickedly against the dim light.
"Wow." I breathed, walking towards the weaponry. I took a funny looking knife off the wall and spun it in my hands. I don't know how I did it, but Gunn stared, shocked.
"Damn, girl. It took me weeks to learn how t'do that." He sighed, his eyes lighting up.
"I don't know how I did that." I said, staring at the knife. It was curved, ridges along one side.
*'Stuck it in her gut, just slid in her, like she was butter.'*
I dropped the knife, it clanking loudly on the ground, making me jump.
"Yo, you alright?" Gunn asked.
I swallowed hard, feeling these emotions. Anger, hate, sorrow, loss. I thought of the words again and all the feelings came back, hitting me like a ton of bricks.
"I'm.fine." I said detachedly. I shook my head and looked into his concerned eyes, "Fine. I'm fine."
I picked up the knife and put it back, "These are all so amazing, where did you get them?"
"Not mine, chick. Most of these are Angel's." He said, smirking at me.
"Gee, a little jealous?" I asked sarcastically.
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "Me, jealous of weapons that are worth more than I have in the bank, hell no." He said, lifting his chin.
I laughed, ohh, Gunn was a strange one. I shook my head, walking out of the room. I didn't see Wes. I pouted, where was he. I wandered around, going upstairs and to the fourth floor to pick out my room. I went through three of them that just didn't feel right. The fourth was a locked door. Against my initial restraint, I twisted the handle sharply, breaking the lock with audible snap.
"Ok, this is *not* breaking and entering." I murmur to myself, walking into the rooms.
It was beautiful. The walls in the sitting room were painted a dark green, the dim light casting an emerald glow on everything. I just stood in awe, looking at the glorious features. There was a loveseat and a daybed, both black. I could see the kitchen, a big window lighting up the area. The moonlight filtered in, casting a silver-blue colored on the walls. I sighed, walking around slowly, absorbing everything.
"What are you doing in here?" A harsh voice asked, starling me.
It was a man, half hid by the shadows. But, I could tell he was angry. Chocolate eyes glittered dangerously at me. I stood defiantly, not fearing him.
"Wes told me I could pick out a room, any one I wanted." I answered.
"Wes informed you wrong. Not this one." He growled, stepping toward me. I didn't back away, I just stared at him, feeling as if I should know him. But, I was angry. How dare he be angry with me, I didn't know him.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice low.
He laughs sardonically, "You're asking me. You who said, *forever*."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
I could smell liquor on him. This man was drunk.
"You should know!" He snapped and I jumped.
"Now, now, Peaches, leave the little chit alone." A purring British voice said, pulling the man out of the way.
"You'll have to forgive nancy-boy here. I insisted that he have a drink to calm him down, didn't know the Poof couldn't hold his liquor." The bleach haired man said.
I nodded slowly.
"I'm Spike, and you'd be?" He asked.
"Anne." I said.
He smirked, pushing the man again, "Best you be meetin' him when he's sober."
I nodded and watched as he pushed the dark haired man away. I stood in the beautiful room for a moment longer, than left. It didn't welcoming anymore. Tomorrow, I'd fix that lock. And, stay out of that man's way.
*
Wes joined me to pick out another room. I didn't utter a word about my encounter with the mystery man. I didn't think it would do any good to stir up trouble. Something told me that these people were a tightly knit group and I dare not mess with them. Wes showed me a room down the hall, far from the beautiful emerald room. The walls were fairly dark, one might think it was a bit depressing. The walls were black and rouge. The living room having leather sofas and a scarlet crushed velvet daybed. I liked it very much. Wes helped me move what little I had into the glorious penthouse, telling me that of the girls might take me shopping soon.
"But, I don't know all of them." I protested, not very comfortable with being alone with these strangers.
"It's alright darling, you will." Wes assured me then beckoned me to come down for dinner, according to him, they had ordered pizza to celebrate my coming.
"These people are so strange." I commented on the way down to the lobby. Wes laughed, muttering something about pop culture and living in the 'now'. I shrugged it off, not wanting to try to understand it.
I slowed my walk so I was behind Wesley, not wanting to face these people head on.
"Hi! Anne!" Anya said cheerily.
I gave a small smile and a wave, not knowing what to say.
"You ever had pizza?" A girl younger than the rest asked me.
She had dark eyes and curling raven colored hair. She wore a white tank top and blue jeans.
*"5 by 5, B."*
I blinked, slowly getting used to the flashes of voices and sounds I got. A feeling of protective suspicion went through me, making my blood feel like soda in my veins, popping and fizzing.
"Once." I said, knowing my answer took long enough to raise suspicion, "Ginny brought it for me, remember Wes?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly.
He nodded slowly, his eyes seeing a memory, "I remember."
"Who's Ginny?" the girl named Cordelia asked.
"She was a friend of mine. She worked at the." I glanced at Wes, not knowing how much to reveal, he nodded, ".the place were I was. But, she got in trouble and Quentin 'disposed' of her." I answered, turning so they wouldn't see my misting eyes.
"Quentin?" A new voice asked.
I glanced at the group, seeing the man whom I had smiled at before stand. His eyes were wary and I could see Wes curse himself inwardly.
"I don't want to talk about this." I answered quickly, pushing back the terrible memories that I was reluctant to admit that were my life. I suppose I spoke too quickly or too sharply for everything turned to stare at me, they're eyes searching.
"Can we stop with the staring? You could make someone feel like a bloody damned hamster in a cage." I muttered, my voice seething and my slight accent thickening with anger.
"Darling." Wes said in his fatherly way, trying to reach for me, to sooth me.
"No. I'm fine. I'll just take my food to my rooms, I'm feeling a bit weary anyways." I mumbled, taking a slice of pizza and a can of soda and stomping up to my room. As I left, voices began to rise with anger.
"You bloody pompous idiots!" That was Wes, "Can you bloody blokes make her feel an more unwelcome?" He demanded.
"We're sorry!" Cordelia yelled, "This is strange, for all of us!"
"You can't expect us to welcome her back with open arms, Wesley. Not after what happened!" An enraged voice hissed.
"Damn, Willow. It was six years ago! What you did.you should be glad it didn't work. What you made her into, what you did!" A new voice cried. I leaned over the railing and looked below.
It was the drunken man from earlier. But, now he wasn't drunk, he was angry.
"I had to bring her back!" Willow cried.
"Not like you did! She would have killed us all!" The mystery man shouted back.
"And, you killed her first!" Willow screamed, her voice raw and rough.
A deadly silence fell over the room below and I wonder what in the world the lots of them were talking about. A hand touched my shoulder and I whirled around, a small yelp escaping my lips. It was Spike, the bleached blond.
"You shouldn't be eavesdropping, pet." He said, leading me away.
"What are they talking about?" I asked him.
"Best you not know." He answered.
I sighed and took a bite of my food. I was suddenly so confused and tired.
"You're exhausted." Spike said comfortingly.
He led me back to my room and he set my food in my refrigerator.
"I want to meet him." I mumbled as he tucked me into my bed.
"Who?" He asked, sitting on a small recliner.
"The man, who was yelling." I said, not knowing how to describe him.
"You mean Peaches. Well, I'm sure he'll pay ya a nightly visit. Probably won't have to wait too long. He could never hold back too long with ya." He said, his clear blue eyes seeing a past I couldn't fathom. Where in the bursts of wakefulness, I would have questioned him, I couldn't now because the pulls of sleep were having their way with me, taking me with them into their realm of dreams.for now.
I ate my sandwich slowly, chewing each bite thoughtfully. Each bite that I swallowed felt like a pound of cement in my belly. I was nervous. Who would I be meeting? And, how many? I wasn't used to be around very many people, only being around a handful at a time my whole life. I finally finished my lunch and walked over to my mirror, gazing at the person staring back at me. Me. No matter how many times I gazed at myself, I always felt a sense of deja vue Like, I had gazed at this face somewhere, another place, another *time*. It's hard to explain, to understand even. I sigh heavily and turn around quickly when I feel someone looking at me. There's no one there. The hairs on the back of my neck raise in warning, shivers crawling down my spine. My fists clench and I look around.
"Who's there?" I call out tightly.
No one answers, but the feeling is still there. I close my eyes and run my hands through my hair wondering if I'm going insane. Wouldn't rule out that possibility. My door opens and I jump, glaring at the intruder. It's Wes and my face softens.
"Are you all done?" He asks, gesturing to my plate.
I nod and stand up, taking the hand Wes has outstretched.
"You ready?" He asks me.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and nod yes, my heart pounding almost painfully. Wes leads me down a maze of hallways and stairs and I'm sure I'll never find my way around here. We come to a large red carpeted staircase and Wes squeezes my hand. We walk briskly down and I see about a dozen people or so just milling about, doing there's jobs, I suppose. But, all commotion stops when they see me. Half look like they want to cry, the others just stare dumbfounded.
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Anne."
*
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Anne." Wes says, but I catch an undertone of a warning.
A warning of what? I don't know. I feel so uncomfortable underneath their searching stares.
"Hi." I say in a small voice, slowly moving behind Wes a little bit, to shield me from their eyes.
"Hi! I'm Anya. Anya Harris, pleased to meet you, *Anne*." This blonde girl says, stepping right up and shaking my hand firmly. She seems to say my name falsely, as if she wants to say something else.
I nod slowly, wishing she'd let go of my hand. All these people seem older than me, by at least ten years.
"This is Xander, my *husband*." Anya says, her voice full of warning that I better not steal her man.
I nod again, squeezing Wes's hand with bruising force, I'm sure.
"Anya, honey, don't scare the girl." Xander says, his voice almost flat like he's hiding his emotions.
Another girl steps up, she's a redhead. Her eye's seem to burn with anger, but she plasters on a fake smile and takes my hand.
"I'm Willow." She says.
She scares me. Her hands are shaking in anger. She grips my small hands until her knuckles turn white. I take a step back from her and pull my hands away. Her eyes seem black, but no one else sees it. They're all to busy staring at me. I press myself to Wes's side and he smiles down at me. I think I hear a soft growl and look up to find the source. At the end of the long lobby was a man. A tall, dark, and handsome, 'take me now' sort of man. His eyes were chocolate, his hair spiked, and brown. He wore black slacks and a black button up shirt. He stared at me, his eyes wide, unbelieving, and angry. I looked away quickly. I don't want to be here! I try and smile at them, but I feel like I'm being inspected.
"Can we go somewhere?" I ask Wes.
He looks from them, to me, and understands, "Where would you like to go?" He asks, leading me away.
"Anywhere but here." I plead softly.
I can't handle so many people. I just freeze. When you've been locked up your whole life, crowds scare you. At least they do me. I'm not sure what to say to everyone, on account of I don't have very developed social skills, I guess. Wes knows what I'm talking about. He'll always know.
To my surprise, Wes tours me around the monstrously large hotel. It's got four floors, I'm told. The first is mostly the lobby, kitchen, ballroom, and the maid's quarters
"They have maids?" I asked incredulously.
Wes laughs, shaking his head, "No, darling, this used to be a thriving hotel in the 1950s, before Angel bought it." Wes explained.
"Oh." I said, then, "Who's Angel?"
My simple question made him look at me closely, his blue eyes searching my face. His looked very disturbed, then in a strange voice he said, "Angel is the owner. I think you'll meet him soon, when the time is right."
When the time is right? What did he mean?
"The red head, I don't like her." I said, remembering how her eyes seemed to gaze through me angrily.
Again, he looked troubled. He didn't answer me and began to explain what the other floors of the hotel. The second was common room. Just bedrooms with bathrooms. The third was slightly more favored. Having a sitting room, bathroom, and a bedroom. Like a boarding house might. The fourth floor were where the extravagant penthouses were. Wes told me that some of the people who worked here stayed in some of these.
"Am I going to stay here?" I asked.
Wes shrugged, "I suppose, if you wish." He answered.
"Can I pick my own room?" I asked, getting excited now.
"Of course."
"Can I decorate it?" I asked, a girlish smile forming.
"I would suppose, it being your room. But, I must speak with Angel first, to see if that is alright with him."
My smile grew. I couldn't wait to explore this place and pick out the perfect room for me, all me.
"Could I meet Angel?" I asked, wanting to see this mystery man.
"He's a very busy man. In time you will, darling. In time."
*
We had gone back downstairs and Wes went in search of this Angel person. I sat on plush red couches, watching everyone work. I saw the brunette, Cordelia, sitting at a computer, chatting away with Anya. Her husband, Xander, was no where to be seen. I saw the red head, Willow, reading a thick book. There was an older man, his hair chestnut colored, curling slight. He had round glasses and a friendly face. H was on the phone, his eyes meeting mine. He gave me a smile, his eyes twinkling. I nodded slightly and smiled back. I thought the shine of his eyes, were tears, but why would he cry? He turned back to his work and I felt the couch dip under someone else's weight. Gunn sat next to me, smiling foolishly.
"What?" I asked suspiciously, my own lips curling into a smile.
"I wanna show ya somethin'. He said, taking my hand and leading me to a back room. There were ancient weapons hanging on the gray brick walls. I stared amazed, my eyes wide. The blades of the knifes and daggers shone wickedly against the dim light.
"Wow." I breathed, walking towards the weaponry. I took a funny looking knife off the wall and spun it in my hands. I don't know how I did it, but Gunn stared, shocked.
"Damn, girl. It took me weeks to learn how t'do that." He sighed, his eyes lighting up.
"I don't know how I did that." I said, staring at the knife. It was curved, ridges along one side.
*'Stuck it in her gut, just slid in her, like she was butter.'*
I dropped the knife, it clanking loudly on the ground, making me jump.
"Yo, you alright?" Gunn asked.
I swallowed hard, feeling these emotions. Anger, hate, sorrow, loss. I thought of the words again and all the feelings came back, hitting me like a ton of bricks.
"I'm.fine." I said detachedly. I shook my head and looked into his concerned eyes, "Fine. I'm fine."
I picked up the knife and put it back, "These are all so amazing, where did you get them?"
"Not mine, chick. Most of these are Angel's." He said, smirking at me.
"Gee, a little jealous?" I asked sarcastically.
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "Me, jealous of weapons that are worth more than I have in the bank, hell no." He said, lifting his chin.
I laughed, ohh, Gunn was a strange one. I shook my head, walking out of the room. I didn't see Wes. I pouted, where was he. I wandered around, going upstairs and to the fourth floor to pick out my room. I went through three of them that just didn't feel right. The fourth was a locked door. Against my initial restraint, I twisted the handle sharply, breaking the lock with audible snap.
"Ok, this is *not* breaking and entering." I murmur to myself, walking into the rooms.
It was beautiful. The walls in the sitting room were painted a dark green, the dim light casting an emerald glow on everything. I just stood in awe, looking at the glorious features. There was a loveseat and a daybed, both black. I could see the kitchen, a big window lighting up the area. The moonlight filtered in, casting a silver-blue colored on the walls. I sighed, walking around slowly, absorbing everything.
"What are you doing in here?" A harsh voice asked, starling me.
It was a man, half hid by the shadows. But, I could tell he was angry. Chocolate eyes glittered dangerously at me. I stood defiantly, not fearing him.
"Wes told me I could pick out a room, any one I wanted." I answered.
"Wes informed you wrong. Not this one." He growled, stepping toward me. I didn't back away, I just stared at him, feeling as if I should know him. But, I was angry. How dare he be angry with me, I didn't know him.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice low.
He laughs sardonically, "You're asking me. You who said, *forever*."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
I could smell liquor on him. This man was drunk.
"You should know!" He snapped and I jumped.
"Now, now, Peaches, leave the little chit alone." A purring British voice said, pulling the man out of the way.
"You'll have to forgive nancy-boy here. I insisted that he have a drink to calm him down, didn't know the Poof couldn't hold his liquor." The bleach haired man said.
I nodded slowly.
"I'm Spike, and you'd be?" He asked.
"Anne." I said.
He smirked, pushing the man again, "Best you be meetin' him when he's sober."
I nodded and watched as he pushed the dark haired man away. I stood in the beautiful room for a moment longer, than left. It didn't welcoming anymore. Tomorrow, I'd fix that lock. And, stay out of that man's way.
*
Wes joined me to pick out another room. I didn't utter a word about my encounter with the mystery man. I didn't think it would do any good to stir up trouble. Something told me that these people were a tightly knit group and I dare not mess with them. Wes showed me a room down the hall, far from the beautiful emerald room. The walls were fairly dark, one might think it was a bit depressing. The walls were black and rouge. The living room having leather sofas and a scarlet crushed velvet daybed. I liked it very much. Wes helped me move what little I had into the glorious penthouse, telling me that of the girls might take me shopping soon.
"But, I don't know all of them." I protested, not very comfortable with being alone with these strangers.
"It's alright darling, you will." Wes assured me then beckoned me to come down for dinner, according to him, they had ordered pizza to celebrate my coming.
"These people are so strange." I commented on the way down to the lobby. Wes laughed, muttering something about pop culture and living in the 'now'. I shrugged it off, not wanting to try to understand it.
I slowed my walk so I was behind Wesley, not wanting to face these people head on.
"Hi! Anne!" Anya said cheerily.
I gave a small smile and a wave, not knowing what to say.
"You ever had pizza?" A girl younger than the rest asked me.
She had dark eyes and curling raven colored hair. She wore a white tank top and blue jeans.
*"5 by 5, B."*
I blinked, slowly getting used to the flashes of voices and sounds I got. A feeling of protective suspicion went through me, making my blood feel like soda in my veins, popping and fizzing.
"Once." I said, knowing my answer took long enough to raise suspicion, "Ginny brought it for me, remember Wes?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly.
He nodded slowly, his eyes seeing a memory, "I remember."
"Who's Ginny?" the girl named Cordelia asked.
"She was a friend of mine. She worked at the." I glanced at Wes, not knowing how much to reveal, he nodded, ".the place were I was. But, she got in trouble and Quentin 'disposed' of her." I answered, turning so they wouldn't see my misting eyes.
"Quentin?" A new voice asked.
I glanced at the group, seeing the man whom I had smiled at before stand. His eyes were wary and I could see Wes curse himself inwardly.
"I don't want to talk about this." I answered quickly, pushing back the terrible memories that I was reluctant to admit that were my life. I suppose I spoke too quickly or too sharply for everything turned to stare at me, they're eyes searching.
"Can we stop with the staring? You could make someone feel like a bloody damned hamster in a cage." I muttered, my voice seething and my slight accent thickening with anger.
"Darling." Wes said in his fatherly way, trying to reach for me, to sooth me.
"No. I'm fine. I'll just take my food to my rooms, I'm feeling a bit weary anyways." I mumbled, taking a slice of pizza and a can of soda and stomping up to my room. As I left, voices began to rise with anger.
"You bloody pompous idiots!" That was Wes, "Can you bloody blokes make her feel an more unwelcome?" He demanded.
"We're sorry!" Cordelia yelled, "This is strange, for all of us!"
"You can't expect us to welcome her back with open arms, Wesley. Not after what happened!" An enraged voice hissed.
"Damn, Willow. It was six years ago! What you did.you should be glad it didn't work. What you made her into, what you did!" A new voice cried. I leaned over the railing and looked below.
It was the drunken man from earlier. But, now he wasn't drunk, he was angry.
"I had to bring her back!" Willow cried.
"Not like you did! She would have killed us all!" The mystery man shouted back.
"And, you killed her first!" Willow screamed, her voice raw and rough.
A deadly silence fell over the room below and I wonder what in the world the lots of them were talking about. A hand touched my shoulder and I whirled around, a small yelp escaping my lips. It was Spike, the bleached blond.
"You shouldn't be eavesdropping, pet." He said, leading me away.
"What are they talking about?" I asked him.
"Best you not know." He answered.
I sighed and took a bite of my food. I was suddenly so confused and tired.
"You're exhausted." Spike said comfortingly.
He led me back to my room and he set my food in my refrigerator.
"I want to meet him." I mumbled as he tucked me into my bed.
"Who?" He asked, sitting on a small recliner.
"The man, who was yelling." I said, not knowing how to describe him.
"You mean Peaches. Well, I'm sure he'll pay ya a nightly visit. Probably won't have to wait too long. He could never hold back too long with ya." He said, his clear blue eyes seeing a past I couldn't fathom. Where in the bursts of wakefulness, I would have questioned him, I couldn't now because the pulls of sleep were having their way with me, taking me with them into their realm of dreams.for now.