Disclaimer: Me: No. Still no. It's still Joss', despite all my generous
offers to buy it from him....erm, I mean...
Chapter 5
Angel was unprepared for the phone call he got at eight o'clock the next morning, but he was glad he answered it because Cordelia sounded terrified.
"I got another note," she said automatically. "We can't go to the police."
"Cordy, slow down." He rubed the sleep from his eyes and bit back a yawn. "Why can't we go to—"
"Because he said not to." Her voice was firm. "So we can't."
"Cordelia, we can't just let this go," he protested.
"We won't." He could almost hear her defiance. He smiled as she continued, "There's this guy at school, the librarian? I know for a fact he's a weirdo, but he's a smart weirdo and he doesn't talk to the other teachers much. We're going to see him."
"When?" Propping the phone against his ear with his shoulder, Angel struggled into a forest-green T-shirt and a pair of jeans. When his head surfaced through the shirt-hole, he asked, "Wait, what was that?"
"We're going to see him today," she repeated impatiently. "Right now, if you can get your wheels over here."
"Uh...I can get my legs over there," he offered. "Dad's got the car. But before we go anywhere, maybe we should check to make sure book-guy's actually there."
"He's there, Angel. I don't think he ever actually leaves."
---
The two reached the Sunnydale High library to find a fifty-ish man with gray hair bent over a book. They exchanged uneasy glances, the pushed throught the swinging double doors.
Surprisingly, the man was accompanied by two much-younger people, a boy and a girl. The girl was seated at a computer comsole. The boy, perched on the check-out counter, was whining.
"Giles, it's Saturday. Don't you need sleep?"
"Ugh," Cordelia muttered. "Xander Harris."
The young man looked up, dark hair rumpled. He smirked, puppy-dog brown eyes softening the coarse expression slightly.
"Cordelia Chase," he announced. "Get ready to bow and scrape your foreheads, everybody."
The librarian looked up. "May I help you?" he politely inquired in his soft British accent.
"Yes," the brunette said firmly. "I need help."
"Mentally or emotionally?" Xander cracked. "Or maybe one of those jocks you've been stringing along is finally fed up."
"Xander, shut up," the girl said quietly.
"Thank you Willow," Cordelia said. "I, uh, like your blouse."
"No you don't," Willow replied automatically. "What do you need?"
"To be checked into Sunnydale's nearest mental facility," Xander supplied helpfully.
"Be quiet, Xander," Giles retorted, a bit more forcefully than Willow had. To Cordelia, he offered his hand. "Rupert Giles."
"Yeah, nice to meet you," she replied shortly. "This is Angel."
Angel nodded to Giles, who smiled warmly.
"Always nice to see young faces in this, uh—"
"Dead and musty place?" Xander interjected. Willow tossed a marker at him.
"—this dead and musty place," Giles agreed, clearly tired. Xander crowed in triumph, prompting Giles to add, "And I'm only letting that go because I have no time to argue with you."
"That's 'cause you're a feeble old librarian," Xander responded, grinning.
Giles looked at him sharply, then returned his gaze to the newcomers. "What brings you two here on a Saturday?"
"What brings you here at all?" Willow added, clicking the mouse twice. "Most kids don't even come here on weekdays."
"Then why do you?" Angel asked, interested. Cordelia poked him.
"We're here because I'm in trouble," she informed the British man and his young friends bluntly.
"T-trouble?" Giles frowned. "What sort of trouble?"
"The bad sort," she snapped tiredly. It suddenly occurred to Angel that she probably hadn't slept well the previous night.
Xander wandered over to them and pushed a book into Giles' hands. "This one's lame. Don't bother with it."
The librarian sighed. "It is not 'lame', Xander. Now, kindly be silent!"
The young man made a mocking sort of face, but didn't reply. Giles shook his head.
"Now, what seems to be the problem?" He started to sit down, then rethought his actions. "Would you like some tea?"
Cordelia nodded as Angel guided her to a seat. The Englishman bustled about in his office for several moments before re-emerging, a tray laden with mugs and a teapot in his hands. He poured the tea and sat, looking curious.
"Now. Your problem." He offered a polite nod.
Cordelia frowned. "I think I have a stalker."
Xander choked on his tea. "Oh, so it *is* one of the jocks?"
"Stalker?" Giles looked surprised even as he ignored the young American teen. "That sounds like a job for the authorities, does it not?"
"We would go to the police," Angel argeed. "Only the guy sent Cordy a note advising against it." He took a mouthful of tea, then very nearly spat it back out as his tongue unexpectedly burned.
Giles leaned back in his seat. "Interesting."
Willow's face was drawn in thought. "Why come to us?" she wanted to know.
Cordelia shrugged. "You guys seem to like the weird."
Giles chuckled. "Yes, yes, we do..." He regained his composure. "However, this is no laughing matter, is it?"
The young woman reached into her purse and withdrew the messages she'd received. "These arrived at my house." Pointing to the more recent one, she added, "I got this one last night via rock-through-the-window."
Giles looked them over without touching them. He looked up at her curiously. "I suppose you're already handled them?"
"Well, yeah. How else was I supposed to pick them up?" She frowned as if daring him to reprimand her. Wisely, he didn't.
"I'll have to find some other method of searching for fingerprints, then." The librarian stood and pulled a small black case from behind the counter.
Angel gazed at the case. "What is that?"
"Finger-printing set thingy," Willow told him helpfully.
"From Giles' younger days," Xander added. "He used to be a wild man."
Giles chose once again to ignore him. "This is a long-shot, but I'm going to try it before I go into anything more high-tech." He beckoned Cordelia closer. "I'll need your hand."
She nodded and the Englishman quickly took her fingerprints. Then he glanced at Angel.
"Did you touch these?" he asked, jerking a hand at the slips of paper. Angel nodded shortly and Giles took his prints too.
"Now, this may take a while," Giles warned, turning away.
Cordelia frowned. "How long is 'a while'?"
"Several days?" The librarian blinked. "I-I'm not sure. I don't exactly do this on a regular basis."
"Well, we'll just leave you to it," Angel said graciously. He took Cordelia by the shoulders and steered her out of the library.
"I'll be in touch!" Giles called after them.
A/N: Ok, short, I know, but my brain kinda fizzled out. I'd appreciate some happy reviews; it might give my mind a jump-start.
Chapter 5
Angel was unprepared for the phone call he got at eight o'clock the next morning, but he was glad he answered it because Cordelia sounded terrified.
"I got another note," she said automatically. "We can't go to the police."
"Cordy, slow down." He rubed the sleep from his eyes and bit back a yawn. "Why can't we go to—"
"Because he said not to." Her voice was firm. "So we can't."
"Cordelia, we can't just let this go," he protested.
"We won't." He could almost hear her defiance. He smiled as she continued, "There's this guy at school, the librarian? I know for a fact he's a weirdo, but he's a smart weirdo and he doesn't talk to the other teachers much. We're going to see him."
"When?" Propping the phone against his ear with his shoulder, Angel struggled into a forest-green T-shirt and a pair of jeans. When his head surfaced through the shirt-hole, he asked, "Wait, what was that?"
"We're going to see him today," she repeated impatiently. "Right now, if you can get your wheels over here."
"Uh...I can get my legs over there," he offered. "Dad's got the car. But before we go anywhere, maybe we should check to make sure book-guy's actually there."
"He's there, Angel. I don't think he ever actually leaves."
---
The two reached the Sunnydale High library to find a fifty-ish man with gray hair bent over a book. They exchanged uneasy glances, the pushed throught the swinging double doors.
Surprisingly, the man was accompanied by two much-younger people, a boy and a girl. The girl was seated at a computer comsole. The boy, perched on the check-out counter, was whining.
"Giles, it's Saturday. Don't you need sleep?"
"Ugh," Cordelia muttered. "Xander Harris."
The young man looked up, dark hair rumpled. He smirked, puppy-dog brown eyes softening the coarse expression slightly.
"Cordelia Chase," he announced. "Get ready to bow and scrape your foreheads, everybody."
The librarian looked up. "May I help you?" he politely inquired in his soft British accent.
"Yes," the brunette said firmly. "I need help."
"Mentally or emotionally?" Xander cracked. "Or maybe one of those jocks you've been stringing along is finally fed up."
"Xander, shut up," the girl said quietly.
"Thank you Willow," Cordelia said. "I, uh, like your blouse."
"No you don't," Willow replied automatically. "What do you need?"
"To be checked into Sunnydale's nearest mental facility," Xander supplied helpfully.
"Be quiet, Xander," Giles retorted, a bit more forcefully than Willow had. To Cordelia, he offered his hand. "Rupert Giles."
"Yeah, nice to meet you," she replied shortly. "This is Angel."
Angel nodded to Giles, who smiled warmly.
"Always nice to see young faces in this, uh—"
"Dead and musty place?" Xander interjected. Willow tossed a marker at him.
"—this dead and musty place," Giles agreed, clearly tired. Xander crowed in triumph, prompting Giles to add, "And I'm only letting that go because I have no time to argue with you."
"That's 'cause you're a feeble old librarian," Xander responded, grinning.
Giles looked at him sharply, then returned his gaze to the newcomers. "What brings you two here on a Saturday?"
"What brings you here at all?" Willow added, clicking the mouse twice. "Most kids don't even come here on weekdays."
"Then why do you?" Angel asked, interested. Cordelia poked him.
"We're here because I'm in trouble," she informed the British man and his young friends bluntly.
"T-trouble?" Giles frowned. "What sort of trouble?"
"The bad sort," she snapped tiredly. It suddenly occurred to Angel that she probably hadn't slept well the previous night.
Xander wandered over to them and pushed a book into Giles' hands. "This one's lame. Don't bother with it."
The librarian sighed. "It is not 'lame', Xander. Now, kindly be silent!"
The young man made a mocking sort of face, but didn't reply. Giles shook his head.
"Now, what seems to be the problem?" He started to sit down, then rethought his actions. "Would you like some tea?"
Cordelia nodded as Angel guided her to a seat. The Englishman bustled about in his office for several moments before re-emerging, a tray laden with mugs and a teapot in his hands. He poured the tea and sat, looking curious.
"Now. Your problem." He offered a polite nod.
Cordelia frowned. "I think I have a stalker."
Xander choked on his tea. "Oh, so it *is* one of the jocks?"
"Stalker?" Giles looked surprised even as he ignored the young American teen. "That sounds like a job for the authorities, does it not?"
"We would go to the police," Angel argeed. "Only the guy sent Cordy a note advising against it." He took a mouthful of tea, then very nearly spat it back out as his tongue unexpectedly burned.
Giles leaned back in his seat. "Interesting."
Willow's face was drawn in thought. "Why come to us?" she wanted to know.
Cordelia shrugged. "You guys seem to like the weird."
Giles chuckled. "Yes, yes, we do..." He regained his composure. "However, this is no laughing matter, is it?"
The young woman reached into her purse and withdrew the messages she'd received. "These arrived at my house." Pointing to the more recent one, she added, "I got this one last night via rock-through-the-window."
Giles looked them over without touching them. He looked up at her curiously. "I suppose you're already handled them?"
"Well, yeah. How else was I supposed to pick them up?" She frowned as if daring him to reprimand her. Wisely, he didn't.
"I'll have to find some other method of searching for fingerprints, then." The librarian stood and pulled a small black case from behind the counter.
Angel gazed at the case. "What is that?"
"Finger-printing set thingy," Willow told him helpfully.
"From Giles' younger days," Xander added. "He used to be a wild man."
Giles chose once again to ignore him. "This is a long-shot, but I'm going to try it before I go into anything more high-tech." He beckoned Cordelia closer. "I'll need your hand."
She nodded and the Englishman quickly took her fingerprints. Then he glanced at Angel.
"Did you touch these?" he asked, jerking a hand at the slips of paper. Angel nodded shortly and Giles took his prints too.
"Now, this may take a while," Giles warned, turning away.
Cordelia frowned. "How long is 'a while'?"
"Several days?" The librarian blinked. "I-I'm not sure. I don't exactly do this on a regular basis."
"Well, we'll just leave you to it," Angel said graciously. He took Cordelia by the shoulders and steered her out of the library.
"I'll be in touch!" Giles called after them.
A/N: Ok, short, I know, but my brain kinda fizzled out. I'd appreciate some happy reviews; it might give my mind a jump-start.