THE LABOUR & THE WOUNDS
By Allegra
Thank you to everyone for being so patient! My computer was sort of borrowed with all my unfinished chapters on, but it's back home with momma now & she's churned out another chapter :) I hope you like it. Please, please review for me. I really want to know what you think of it.
See Part 1 for all other disclaimers, notes etc.
CHAPTER 4
**********
"Where did you find this kid? I mean, I take back everything I said earlier. Whatever he's got, it's magic and it's gonna take him far, man. He's a sure winner every time. The whole fight was like the fucking ballet, man, effortless!"
Fax was busy counting his winnings, a happiness warming his hear that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Connor had put his faith back into the notion that he'd one day be richer than Tom Cruise. He'd be able to buy that Beverly Hills mansion in a heartbeat and talk about how he met Cameron Diaz in the Skybar on Sunset. "Yeah, he's the real deal, that's for sure. But let's not jump the gun just yet, Cole. See how he fights tomorrow."
Cole paused in his pacing in front of the boss's desk. "Tomorrow? You forgetting the rules already, Fax? No one plays two consecutive nights. It brings down their game. They haven't recovered enough."
Fax stared his colleague in the face. "You think that kid needs more than a day's rest? You can see it in his face, he's gagging for it. Besides, if we're going to put money on him, we need to know what it takes for him to perform well."
Cole did not reply, uncertainty tainting his usually friendly, open face. Fax turned on the charm and allowed a huge grin to spread across his lips. He held out a wad of crumpled green paper. "Here, see if this can put a smile back on your face. You and I are going to be rich, brother."
Cole took the money and deftly counted it. A look of incredulity was quickly replaced with sheer joy. "My God, man! I could take a holiday to Barbados on this!"
Fax pulled his box of Cuban cigars from the bottom drawer. He saved these for truly special occasions and this was certainly one of them. Clipping the end and puffing it alight with a match, he divided the remaining money into two deeply uneven piles and shoved the larger into his jacket pocket. "Get that kid in here. He's got winnings to collect."
**********
Wesley Wyndham-Price turned over in the bed, trying to evade the pungent scent of Lilah's perfume. It assailed his nostrils, supplying a constant reminder of their 'relationship' as she had deigned to call it. Wesley didn't know who he hated more - Lilah for dragging him into her world or himself for letting her. Their arrangement had been just that - an arrangement - until recently. The day she had started buying him expensive gifts and dressing up to please him had changed all that. Wesley was careful never to reciprocate. He refused to give any more of himself up to that devious witch. She had wrung enough out of him already.
There were up-sides to their meetings, though. Wesley was starting to learn more about the secret machinations of Wolfram and Hart. Lilah Morgan might play her cards close to her chest, but Wesley was practised enough to notice the times when she slipped up. He wasn't sure how much she trusted him but he sure as hell didn't trust her. Even as they lay side by side in bed, her thighs pressed up against his back, they were playing a game of cat and mouse. It was only a matter of time before things got ugly and Wesley could feel it coming.
When Angel Investigations had made it clear that his services were no longer required, he had lost all interest in saving the day. He felt betrayed and his heart was bitter. There wasn't enough emotion left inside him to spare for helping anyone else. Lilah had set her traps just when he was at his most vulnerable and Wesley had fallen duly into them. He had shown no interest in her company or the underhand dealings she planned. Now, though, Wes could barely keep his fingers from prying whenever they went to her apartment. He found the urges to uncover her schemes increasingly frequent and unstoppable. Lilah was a smart woman and it wouldn't take her long to figure out what he was up to. In fact, Wesley wouldn't be surprised if she already knew.
Huddling down under the bedclothes in an attempt to drown out the smell of her, Wesley closed his eyes once more and tried to rest. Today was a new day and the parameters of his relationship with Lilah were about to be altered again.
**********
Connor climbed the last rung of the ladder into the loft he had come to call home. His body ached, more than it had in a long time. It was different when you were fighting without weapons, fighting for an audience. He had noticed the way the crowd's roar swelled when he made certain moves or threw certain punches. He was learning fast about this dimension and its strange customs. In Quor'toth there had been no prize for killing demons, true there was pleasure in it, but not in a sense that it was followed by recognition. Yet here, in Los Angeles, men and demon alike traded money over these scraps and Connor had made a lot of it.
He threw himself limply onto the bed, pulling the green paper out of his back pocket and thumbing through the notes. He hadn't bothered to check how much Fax had given him for his troubles, anything seemed like enough. If the truth be told, Connor was still having trouble understanding the value of material objects in this world. A celebrity's signature could fetch hundreds of dollars, as could dead animal cells injected into a person's lips, but then food was cheap and clothes. There had not even been clothes to buy in Quor'toth. Connor was surprised to realise he must have made at least a hundred bucks out of one fight and it was money he desperately needed.
There had been a time when he had simply stolen goods from one shop after another. It had seemed the only way. He didn't understand how anything worked, how one got this 'money' to pay for things, so it left only one option. He had quickly realised that demons took many forms. Men in uniforms with badges began to chase him, cameras with all-seeing eyes tracked his every move. It became harder and harder to hunt effectively. Now, Connor was beginning to accept that he would have to adapt to his new environment rather than make it work for him.
Connor quickly stuffed the dollar notes into the gap beneath his mattress, thinking it was a pretty crafty place to hide it. Closing his eyes, he slowly tried to help his mind drift away from his aching limbs, allow the last drops of adrenaline to run their course, and gradually let him drift off to sleep.
**********
"Any luck?" Fred enquired, lightly, her southern accent lilting across the lobby.
Angel shook his head and wandered into the office. "Sounds like Brian got lost on the wrong side of the track. Maybe I was just reaching."
Cordelia's face popped up from behind her computer monitor. "Or maybe not. I dug through the archives and there's a bunch of newspaper reports all identifying strange activity in this one area of downtown..."
Angel looked at her, startled, before interrupting. "Cordy! I wasn't expecting you to help out. That is, I mean, you don't have to get involved again so soon. All this stuff must seem pretty trivial right now."
Cordelia adopted her matronly expression and glared at him. "I'm done with the moping, for now anyway, and I just want to get back to normal. I figured the answers to my extra-mortal existence aren't going to appear from staring at the four walls of my room. Besides, who knows, something might just trigger off some new powers while we're in the field. Remember that time I went all glowy on Connor? No one saw that coming, huh?" By the time she had finished her excuse, even Angel was convinced. Cordelia seemed happy again, at least ready to make jokes again.
Angel smiled, "So what did you find?"
Cordelia flashed through a few screens on the internet. "Well, they're all coming from the same area as where Brian was killed. It's got to be worth checking out, right?"
Fred snapped closed the huge volume she was perusing. "Yay to that. I'm all out of steam with this baby. There's something about the structure of ancient Vondorian that just doesn't work for me. I mean, how can the same prefix be both a noun, a verb and an antonym?"
Angel and Cordelia stared at her blankly for a moment. "I'll just get some weapons."
"Are we all going?" Cordy asked.
Angel turned, his face falling into serious lines. She knew what he was about to say, but Gunn sloped down the stairs. "I saw yes. If there's enough demon activity for the newspapers to run a decent story, I say we might find ourselves up against a scout troupe of demons, in which case we're going to need all the hands we got."
Cordelia quickly seconded that. She didn't like to admit it but right now she just really wanted to vent some pent-up frustration and, in her line of work, that meant killing something, not a trip to Crunch gym.
Gunn grabbed his favourite axe and spun it deftly in his hand. "Let's go get us some demon booty!"
**********
END OF CHAPTER 4
Next chapter - Angel finds Connor (I promise)
By Allegra
Thank you to everyone for being so patient! My computer was sort of borrowed with all my unfinished chapters on, but it's back home with momma now & she's churned out another chapter :) I hope you like it. Please, please review for me. I really want to know what you think of it.
See Part 1 for all other disclaimers, notes etc.
CHAPTER 4
**********
"Where did you find this kid? I mean, I take back everything I said earlier. Whatever he's got, it's magic and it's gonna take him far, man. He's a sure winner every time. The whole fight was like the fucking ballet, man, effortless!"
Fax was busy counting his winnings, a happiness warming his hear that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Connor had put his faith back into the notion that he'd one day be richer than Tom Cruise. He'd be able to buy that Beverly Hills mansion in a heartbeat and talk about how he met Cameron Diaz in the Skybar on Sunset. "Yeah, he's the real deal, that's for sure. But let's not jump the gun just yet, Cole. See how he fights tomorrow."
Cole paused in his pacing in front of the boss's desk. "Tomorrow? You forgetting the rules already, Fax? No one plays two consecutive nights. It brings down their game. They haven't recovered enough."
Fax stared his colleague in the face. "You think that kid needs more than a day's rest? You can see it in his face, he's gagging for it. Besides, if we're going to put money on him, we need to know what it takes for him to perform well."
Cole did not reply, uncertainty tainting his usually friendly, open face. Fax turned on the charm and allowed a huge grin to spread across his lips. He held out a wad of crumpled green paper. "Here, see if this can put a smile back on your face. You and I are going to be rich, brother."
Cole took the money and deftly counted it. A look of incredulity was quickly replaced with sheer joy. "My God, man! I could take a holiday to Barbados on this!"
Fax pulled his box of Cuban cigars from the bottom drawer. He saved these for truly special occasions and this was certainly one of them. Clipping the end and puffing it alight with a match, he divided the remaining money into two deeply uneven piles and shoved the larger into his jacket pocket. "Get that kid in here. He's got winnings to collect."
**********
Wesley Wyndham-Price turned over in the bed, trying to evade the pungent scent of Lilah's perfume. It assailed his nostrils, supplying a constant reminder of their 'relationship' as she had deigned to call it. Wesley didn't know who he hated more - Lilah for dragging him into her world or himself for letting her. Their arrangement had been just that - an arrangement - until recently. The day she had started buying him expensive gifts and dressing up to please him had changed all that. Wesley was careful never to reciprocate. He refused to give any more of himself up to that devious witch. She had wrung enough out of him already.
There were up-sides to their meetings, though. Wesley was starting to learn more about the secret machinations of Wolfram and Hart. Lilah Morgan might play her cards close to her chest, but Wesley was practised enough to notice the times when she slipped up. He wasn't sure how much she trusted him but he sure as hell didn't trust her. Even as they lay side by side in bed, her thighs pressed up against his back, they were playing a game of cat and mouse. It was only a matter of time before things got ugly and Wesley could feel it coming.
When Angel Investigations had made it clear that his services were no longer required, he had lost all interest in saving the day. He felt betrayed and his heart was bitter. There wasn't enough emotion left inside him to spare for helping anyone else. Lilah had set her traps just when he was at his most vulnerable and Wesley had fallen duly into them. He had shown no interest in her company or the underhand dealings she planned. Now, though, Wes could barely keep his fingers from prying whenever they went to her apartment. He found the urges to uncover her schemes increasingly frequent and unstoppable. Lilah was a smart woman and it wouldn't take her long to figure out what he was up to. In fact, Wesley wouldn't be surprised if she already knew.
Huddling down under the bedclothes in an attempt to drown out the smell of her, Wesley closed his eyes once more and tried to rest. Today was a new day and the parameters of his relationship with Lilah were about to be altered again.
**********
Connor climbed the last rung of the ladder into the loft he had come to call home. His body ached, more than it had in a long time. It was different when you were fighting without weapons, fighting for an audience. He had noticed the way the crowd's roar swelled when he made certain moves or threw certain punches. He was learning fast about this dimension and its strange customs. In Quor'toth there had been no prize for killing demons, true there was pleasure in it, but not in a sense that it was followed by recognition. Yet here, in Los Angeles, men and demon alike traded money over these scraps and Connor had made a lot of it.
He threw himself limply onto the bed, pulling the green paper out of his back pocket and thumbing through the notes. He hadn't bothered to check how much Fax had given him for his troubles, anything seemed like enough. If the truth be told, Connor was still having trouble understanding the value of material objects in this world. A celebrity's signature could fetch hundreds of dollars, as could dead animal cells injected into a person's lips, but then food was cheap and clothes. There had not even been clothes to buy in Quor'toth. Connor was surprised to realise he must have made at least a hundred bucks out of one fight and it was money he desperately needed.
There had been a time when he had simply stolen goods from one shop after another. It had seemed the only way. He didn't understand how anything worked, how one got this 'money' to pay for things, so it left only one option. He had quickly realised that demons took many forms. Men in uniforms with badges began to chase him, cameras with all-seeing eyes tracked his every move. It became harder and harder to hunt effectively. Now, Connor was beginning to accept that he would have to adapt to his new environment rather than make it work for him.
Connor quickly stuffed the dollar notes into the gap beneath his mattress, thinking it was a pretty crafty place to hide it. Closing his eyes, he slowly tried to help his mind drift away from his aching limbs, allow the last drops of adrenaline to run their course, and gradually let him drift off to sleep.
**********
"Any luck?" Fred enquired, lightly, her southern accent lilting across the lobby.
Angel shook his head and wandered into the office. "Sounds like Brian got lost on the wrong side of the track. Maybe I was just reaching."
Cordelia's face popped up from behind her computer monitor. "Or maybe not. I dug through the archives and there's a bunch of newspaper reports all identifying strange activity in this one area of downtown..."
Angel looked at her, startled, before interrupting. "Cordy! I wasn't expecting you to help out. That is, I mean, you don't have to get involved again so soon. All this stuff must seem pretty trivial right now."
Cordelia adopted her matronly expression and glared at him. "I'm done with the moping, for now anyway, and I just want to get back to normal. I figured the answers to my extra-mortal existence aren't going to appear from staring at the four walls of my room. Besides, who knows, something might just trigger off some new powers while we're in the field. Remember that time I went all glowy on Connor? No one saw that coming, huh?" By the time she had finished her excuse, even Angel was convinced. Cordelia seemed happy again, at least ready to make jokes again.
Angel smiled, "So what did you find?"
Cordelia flashed through a few screens on the internet. "Well, they're all coming from the same area as where Brian was killed. It's got to be worth checking out, right?"
Fred snapped closed the huge volume she was perusing. "Yay to that. I'm all out of steam with this baby. There's something about the structure of ancient Vondorian that just doesn't work for me. I mean, how can the same prefix be both a noun, a verb and an antonym?"
Angel and Cordelia stared at her blankly for a moment. "I'll just get some weapons."
"Are we all going?" Cordy asked.
Angel turned, his face falling into serious lines. She knew what he was about to say, but Gunn sloped down the stairs. "I saw yes. If there's enough demon activity for the newspapers to run a decent story, I say we might find ourselves up against a scout troupe of demons, in which case we're going to need all the hands we got."
Cordelia quickly seconded that. She didn't like to admit it but right now she just really wanted to vent some pent-up frustration and, in her line of work, that meant killing something, not a trip to Crunch gym.
Gunn grabbed his favourite axe and spun it deftly in his hand. "Let's go get us some demon booty!"
**********
END OF CHAPTER 4
Next chapter - Angel finds Connor (I promise)
