Beauty and the Beast
By Kennie Gajos
A/N*Snickers* So peeps, it's time to find out exactly what Willow asked Angel to arrange!
As always, reviews are received with much joyous celebrating. So please go ahead. Pretty please?
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A few days later a loud knock sounded at the door. Willow and Thiery stopped pulling down drapes in the ballroom to stare puzzled at one another for a moment before Willow clapped a hand to her head.
"Ow!" She said, remembering the fading bruise on her temple. "Thiery, I'm sorry, I completely forgot."
"Forgot what?" Thiery asked her as another knock sounded at the door.
"I asked Angel to send some people out to give us a hand."
Thiery frowned. "What kind of people? Should I hide?"
Willow laughed. "Definitely not. Come and see."
Thiery stared at the people assembled at his front door. They weren't cowering in terror, which was definitely a plus. On the other hand they weren't exactly the kind of people he would have expected this… Angel to send after being told that he was a vampire in charge of a demonic law firm.
"Hello darlings, hello!" Exclaimed the man in front.
Thiery looked at him doubtfully. What ever he was it certainly wasn't normal. He had the kind of long hair that hadn't even been fashionable back when he had had hair instead of fur. On top of this the man was wearing some sort of floppy white shirt and… were they leather trousers?
"I am Georges!" The man said, handing out a white card to Thiery, Willow and one of his entourage.
"Georges' Supernatural Renovations." Willow read out from her card. "A Wolfram and Hart Subdivision." She looked at Georges.
"You must be Willow." Georges told her. "Those eyes, that hair… fabulous darling! But lets see if Luca can't make it any more fabulous, sì?" He turned his attention to Thiery. "And this hunk of tall, dark and furry must be Thiery." He looked Thiery up and down. "A trim, a bath and an entirely new wardrobe I think Simone. Wouldn't you agree?" Georges turned back to Willow.
Caught on the spot all she could do was look helplessly at Thiery.
Several hours later Willow and Thiery were trapped at the great dining table whilst Georges' team threw various samples, watercolours, swatches and fashion palates at them. Every now and then Georges would snatch one out of their hands and scold the team member responsible for giving it to them.
Willow caught Thiery's eye. "I'm sorry." She mouthed to him, looking upset.
Thiery smiled. "It is okay." He mouthed back to her.
Just then, Willow's phone rang and she stood, making her apologies to Thiery and the Team who only took advantage of her absence to push more and more things into Thiery's hands. Finally he snapped.
"Enough!" He roared, springing to his feet. "The castle is fine as it is, I am fine as I am and Willow is certainly fine as she is!"
"Actually," Willow said, re-entering the room. "I could do with a hair cut. And wearing the same clothes every week is growing beyond old."
"Fine." Thiery said, an undercurrent of menace in his voice as he stared at Georges and his Team. "Whatever Willow wants, Willow gets. I do not wish for any involvement. Speak to her."
With that he stalked from the room. Willow hesitated for a moment and then chased after him.
"Thiery, wait!" Willow called down the corridor.
With a snort Thiery halted and waited for her to catch up.
"I'm sorry, Thiery." Willow said softly. "I didn't realise what they'd be like. I just wanted you to be able to experience all mod cons. I mean, hot baths, and showers and television. You've been cooped up here so long that the world has passed you by. I wanted to give you a chance to catch up."
"It is not you Willow." Thiery said softly. "It is them. They are saying that we are not good enough. I may not be but you most certainly are. I cannot stay in that room while they talk about you in such a manner therefore I shall go and leave the decisions to you. You may do whatever you wish. This castle is your home too." That said Thiery stalked off.
Willow watched him go before turning back to look at the entrance to the dining room. Her eyes narrowed and her resolve face came into play. She stalked towards the doors and threw them back with a loud crash.
"Okay people, this is how it's going to be."
Thiery sat perched on the ruins of what had once been his bed. That had been, what? One century maybe two centuries ago? Time had begun to blur after a while. Until she had arrived. How dare those people talk about her as though she was inferior to them? Didn't they know who she was? She was Willow. One of a kind and containing more power in a single strand of her hair than any of them possessed in their entire bodies. Not that she liked to use it though. Only when it was absolutely required to prevent the castle from falling down. Not only that, but she was also good and kind and compassionate. She cared more about others than herself. She wasn't just beautiful on the outside, but on the inside as well and that was a true rarity. Someone like him didn't deserve someone like her in his life. He'd forced her there, held her against her will, caged her like the animal he was.
"I want you to fix the castle not refurbish it. Drag it into the twentieth century. That means electric, plumbing, gas, telephones, central heating and some form of double glazing that keeps the windows looking original. Clean it from top to bottom. Any furnishings beyond salvaging replace exactly as they are, restore everything else. As for Thiery, he gets the same style clothing as he always wears, but with no rips. He's also going to need a suit for a ball because I intend to hold one on Christmas Eve. I would also like assorted ballgowns and evening suits for the guests who will be staying over Christmas, I'll provide you with the measurements later. Me? Trim the hair and show me some fashion catalogues. Is that understood?" Willow demanded, coming down from her hyper-rant.
Georges and Team blinked. Suddenly, Georges clapped his hands together. "You heard her darlings. Make it so!"
Suddenly there were people running everywhere. Out of the chaos, Georges popped himself down in a chair next to Willow.
"So…" He said. "Hot chocolate?"
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ADDITIONAL A/NJust think of Georges as Laurence Llewellyn-Bowen on crack cocaine. *lol* Can you tell where I pulled my inspiration from?
For the non-Brits reading this who have no idea who LLB is, he's a designer on a DIY program where neighbours do up a room in each others houses. Think of the most over the top person you can think of, times it by eight, give them a degree in Interior Design and stick 'em in a frilly shirt. That's Laurence Llewellyn-Bowen!