Dedicated to Kelly and our kick-ass talks at 5 in the morning - you rawk!!
Hugs, Lizzie 3
"I want to change partners; assign her to someone else," he rushed out as he burst through Rupert Giles' office door. Wesley Wyndam-Price, The Investigation's Vice President, was in his office with him. Both did not look up in response to the sudden outburst.
"Yes, we heard you put on quite a show," Wesley said with a smirk on his face.
"I cannot work with her," he said calmly, dodging the bullet Mr. Wyndam- Price shot.
"You can and will work with her," Giles said while standing up and taking off his glasses. He glared at Angel.
"There are so many others she can work with. Her and I don't get along."
Giles looked over and glanced at Wesley. "Should we tell him?" Wesley nodded.
"Mr. Davenport, please have a seat," Giles whispered, motioning toward the empty chair.
"This past month, crime has arose to the unthinkable. Our jail cells are getting full but the amount of criminals isn't getting less. I called Buffy from LA because she's the best PI there. I put you two as partners because I know that no other two can handle what will come next."
"What will come next," Angel asked curiously. He moved up on his seat.
"There have been threats," he said with a sigh. "Plenty of bomb threats from some people who call themselves 'The Masters.' There have been threats on the Bronze and the School, even this building has been threatened."
"So we put our strongest PIs on the job; we're hoping that you'll be able to stop it," Wesley finished for Giles.
"Bomb," Angel stated. "How big?"
"Big."
"Okay. Does she know about this?" he asked.
"Well, no. I told her that we needed help because of the increase in crime, but never told her she would be handling explosives. We were hoping you could tell her. Can I trust you two to get along now?" Giles asked, hoping the answer would be yes.
"Well, it'll be a giant leap. But if it's about saving lives, then yes, we'll get along."
Giles looked over to Wesley and he nodded for Giles to fess up.
"Angel, there's something else we would like to talk to you about."
"Okay, what's up?"
"Because you and Buffy will be working a lot together, we have added a roommate to the apartment that we've been providing you. Buffy will be living with you from now until the end of this case. We hope that's fine with you; we've already set the records."
"What! No, no, first she is my partner and now she's my ROOMIE! Are you kidding me? You're meddling with my life here. You can't do that kind of s*** to me!"
"We will do it, and she WILL live with you. We provide for you a nice apartment because you are one of the best PIs we have. But DO NOT abuse your fortune. We've given enough to you, now it's time for you to retaliate and give back," Wesley said half talking, half screaming.
"She will be by tonight, with all of her things. I suggest you get home as soon as possible and clean things up. Angel, I know that you don't think this is such a great idea, but you have to understand that this is for your own good. You and Buffy need to get to know each other; you need to know each other's every move and every thought. Being roommates will lead you two to starting to get along and starting to depend on one another. Do you understand?" Giles had a calmer voice than Wesley did and it brought the tension down in the room.
"I get it. Thanks," he said, totally saddened by the defeat of the argument. The Watcher's Investigations controlled everything in his life. His money, apartment, office, it was all because of them. No point in getting fired.
"You have the rest of the day off, Mr. Davenport. She'll be by at about nine with her things. Please help her." Giles said.
Angel walked out of the office fuming with anger. "She's ruining my life."
Buffy emerged from the women's locker room, wet hair pulled back into a pony. "Who's ruining your life?"
Angel glared at her and would do anything to let the anger out on her. "You know whom," he said simply. He turned away from her and walked down the hall.
Buffy called after him, "then I guess I'll be seeing you at nine, Angie," she said with a giggle.
"Yeah, whatever, Buff," he said, glancing at her turn away.
When she heard the nickname 'Buff' she turned away. She hated the nickname. It gave her major Wiggins and sent chills down her back. "I guess I have to start calling him 'Angel' now. Wow, I've never met a guy that doesn't josh around sometimes."
*_-_*
By 8:50 she packed everything that she had brought from LA to Sunnydale. Giles said that there would already be a bed at Angel's for her to sleep in. She was anything but excited for this experience. Overlooking the past day, she just knew that the next few would be hell.
She gathered all of her stuff by the door and put on her coat. She walked over to her window and checked to see if there was a green Toyota there. It was there all right.
At the office, Buffy asked Fred if she would be able to drive her to Angel's apartment. Fred nodded with a cheery smile. "Xander and I can pick you up and drop you off. We're going to a party anyway."
Buffy and her had known each other for only a day, but got to know each other well. Fred was a genius; she was a computer technician, and the head of the research department. She was so nice to Buffy that they became friends instantly. She got to meet Xander, her boyfriend, at the construction sight where he worked when it was lunch break. He was a funny guy, and Fred and him cracked jokes all the time. It was nice to be around the both of them.
Buffy got all her bags down to the lobby and ran outside to the car to call Xander to open up the trunk. She got to the green Toyota and stopped at the sight of the musty and blurred windows. She put her hands and face up to the window to see what was going on. She quickly turned away from the sight and ran back to the lobby, red face and all. She ran into the lobby.
Buffy rummaged through her coat pocket, looking for Fred's cell phone number that she had written for her. She found it and dialed.
Fred answered. "Hello?"
"Hey Fred," Buffy said, slightly blushing at the images.
"Buffy, you ready to go?"
"I'm ready. I'm in the lobby, I just needed Xander to open up the trunk."
"Okay, he's opening it. Do you need help?"
"No, I can handle everything. Remember? I'm the strongest in the company."
Fred giggled, "Yeah, boy do I remember. We'll be waiting for you. See you."
"Bye."
Buffy loaded her bags into the trunk with great ease. Then, they were off to Angel Davenport's apartment. "I hope he's not THAT much of a pig."
*_-_*
Angel was watching a hockey game when the doorbell rang. He put down his beer on the glass table and braced himself for the worst.
He walked to the front door of his apartment and opened it. He looked at her frowning face and realized that he was frowning, too. Neither of them wanted to do this. But still.
He didn't say a word. He left her at the door, keeping it open. He went back to his hockey game and his icy cold beer. He put up his legs and sat back and relaxed.
"That was rude," Buffy commented under her breath. She hauled the four bags she had with her into the apartment and closed the door. She looked around in exploration. When you walked in, you were in the living room, which was attached to the dining room. Behind the living room/dining room was a small eat-in kitchen. To the right of the dining room was the TV room and bedroom (they shared a wall). To the left side of the living room was a bedroom. Near the entrance of the apartment there was a closet and full bathroom. Buffy put her coat away in the closet and set out to find out which room was hers. There was no point of asking the asshole that drank the beer and watched hockey when his new roommate was here. Oh yeah, he's REAL classy.
She went to the bigger bedroom by the living room side and was invited by Angel's musk. It smelled nice. She looked around his room. Unlit scented candles filled the room and surrounded the silk clad bed. He had silky red sheets, and when you touched them you couldn't help but gliding your hand over them. He had a few pictures around his room. A picture of him and an African American guy at a baseball game (little did she know that it was his PI partner, Gunn.) He also had a picture of him, Uncle Giles, and Wesley working at the office. It looked as if they had millions of pieces of paper on their desks. She saw a kid in a photo, his looks resembling Angel's. Next to him was a brunette, looking to be clad in expensive clothing. His room was nice, but it seemed a little dark and sad. She made her way to the kitchen and immediately saw the stack of dishes that were piled up in the sink. She then saw a dishwasher and grew furious.
"You have a dishwasher, use it," she muttered. She felt it was her responsibility to load the dishwasher so she did.
She put the soap in and turned it on.
She looked around the living room, sitting on the cushioned couches. 'Comfy,' she thought. 'But the style's all wrong.'
She glanced towards the dining room and walked towards it. She loved the mahogany table and the four chairs. She imagined what it would be like to have dinner with Angel in the candlelight. She looked over to where Angel was lying in the den and heard a burp escape his mouth. 'Yeah like that romantic dinner will ever happen,' she thought. She rolled her eyes and commented about the burping. She walked into the TV room and stood in front of the TV, turning it off. He glanced up at her.
"What the f*** is your problem," he said calmly.
"Let me state the problems I have that turn out to be your fault...One, the first time we meet you act all smug to me. Two, you disrespect me in front of the other employees at the office. Three, you gave me a bloody lip and now I think I need some stitches or at least ice. Four, after the fight, you're mad at me just because of the fact that I can beat you up and you can't admit it. Five, you don't say hello when I come here; you don't help with my bags, you don't show me around, nothing. Six, you leave a fricken stack of dishes in the sink when you are fortunate enough to have a dishwasher. Seven, you burp loudly as if it were to my face and your don't even say 'excuse me.' So don't ask me what the fuck MY problem is. Ask your f***in' self that question. And when you stop being the asshole you appear to be, you can properly give me the grand tour. Got it? I'll be in my room." She walked from the room and to where her bags were. She picked all of them up at the same time with great ease and walked to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She was so angry with him; she wanted to pull her hair out from the frustration.
She heard him scream. "I never should have become a PI, I never should have worked at the Watcher's. My life was so f***ing perfect before YOU came into it." She heard him growl, then stomp to his room and slam the door behind him.
Buffy looked around the room; it was white and plain. She had a queen-sized bed, a cabinet and a dresser in the room. She walked over toward the mirror that sat on top of the dresser. She looked at her reflection and looked deeply into her emerald pools that began to water. She could feel the tears build up in her eyes and felt the weird feeling your nose got when you were about to cry. She felt her mouth water up and closed her eyes, tears squeezing through her lids. "Nope," she whispered, "that didn't hurt one bit." She unloaded her tank top and shorts from the suitcase and changed. She was tired, so she got into bed. She quietly sobbed to herself, finally falling asleep.
"I want to change partners; assign her to someone else," he rushed out as he burst through Rupert Giles' office door. Wesley Wyndam-Price, The Investigation's Vice President, was in his office with him. Both did not look up in response to the sudden outburst.
"Yes, we heard you put on quite a show," Wesley said with a smirk on his face.
"I cannot work with her," he said calmly, dodging the bullet Mr. Wyndam- Price shot.
"You can and will work with her," Giles said while standing up and taking off his glasses. He glared at Angel.
"There are so many others she can work with. Her and I don't get along."
Giles looked over and glanced at Wesley. "Should we tell him?" Wesley nodded.
"Mr. Davenport, please have a seat," Giles whispered, motioning toward the empty chair.
"This past month, crime has arose to the unthinkable. Our jail cells are getting full but the amount of criminals isn't getting less. I called Buffy from LA because she's the best PI there. I put you two as partners because I know that no other two can handle what will come next."
"What will come next," Angel asked curiously. He moved up on his seat.
"There have been threats," he said with a sigh. "Plenty of bomb threats from some people who call themselves 'The Masters.' There have been threats on the Bronze and the School, even this building has been threatened."
"So we put our strongest PIs on the job; we're hoping that you'll be able to stop it," Wesley finished for Giles.
"Bomb," Angel stated. "How big?"
"Big."
"Okay. Does she know about this?" he asked.
"Well, no. I told her that we needed help because of the increase in crime, but never told her she would be handling explosives. We were hoping you could tell her. Can I trust you two to get along now?" Giles asked, hoping the answer would be yes.
"Well, it'll be a giant leap. But if it's about saving lives, then yes, we'll get along."
Giles looked over to Wesley and he nodded for Giles to fess up.
"Angel, there's something else we would like to talk to you about."
"Okay, what's up?"
"Because you and Buffy will be working a lot together, we have added a roommate to the apartment that we've been providing you. Buffy will be living with you from now until the end of this case. We hope that's fine with you; we've already set the records."
"What! No, no, first she is my partner and now she's my ROOMIE! Are you kidding me? You're meddling with my life here. You can't do that kind of s*** to me!"
"We will do it, and she WILL live with you. We provide for you a nice apartment because you are one of the best PIs we have. But DO NOT abuse your fortune. We've given enough to you, now it's time for you to retaliate and give back," Wesley said half talking, half screaming.
"She will be by tonight, with all of her things. I suggest you get home as soon as possible and clean things up. Angel, I know that you don't think this is such a great idea, but you have to understand that this is for your own good. You and Buffy need to get to know each other; you need to know each other's every move and every thought. Being roommates will lead you two to starting to get along and starting to depend on one another. Do you understand?" Giles had a calmer voice than Wesley did and it brought the tension down in the room.
"I get it. Thanks," he said, totally saddened by the defeat of the argument. The Watcher's Investigations controlled everything in his life. His money, apartment, office, it was all because of them. No point in getting fired.
"You have the rest of the day off, Mr. Davenport. She'll be by at about nine with her things. Please help her." Giles said.
Angel walked out of the office fuming with anger. "She's ruining my life."
Buffy emerged from the women's locker room, wet hair pulled back into a pony. "Who's ruining your life?"
Angel glared at her and would do anything to let the anger out on her. "You know whom," he said simply. He turned away from her and walked down the hall.
Buffy called after him, "then I guess I'll be seeing you at nine, Angie," she said with a giggle.
"Yeah, whatever, Buff," he said, glancing at her turn away.
When she heard the nickname 'Buff' she turned away. She hated the nickname. It gave her major Wiggins and sent chills down her back. "I guess I have to start calling him 'Angel' now. Wow, I've never met a guy that doesn't josh around sometimes."
*_-_*
By 8:50 she packed everything that she had brought from LA to Sunnydale. Giles said that there would already be a bed at Angel's for her to sleep in. She was anything but excited for this experience. Overlooking the past day, she just knew that the next few would be hell.
She gathered all of her stuff by the door and put on her coat. She walked over to her window and checked to see if there was a green Toyota there. It was there all right.
At the office, Buffy asked Fred if she would be able to drive her to Angel's apartment. Fred nodded with a cheery smile. "Xander and I can pick you up and drop you off. We're going to a party anyway."
Buffy and her had known each other for only a day, but got to know each other well. Fred was a genius; she was a computer technician, and the head of the research department. She was so nice to Buffy that they became friends instantly. She got to meet Xander, her boyfriend, at the construction sight where he worked when it was lunch break. He was a funny guy, and Fred and him cracked jokes all the time. It was nice to be around the both of them.
Buffy got all her bags down to the lobby and ran outside to the car to call Xander to open up the trunk. She got to the green Toyota and stopped at the sight of the musty and blurred windows. She put her hands and face up to the window to see what was going on. She quickly turned away from the sight and ran back to the lobby, red face and all. She ran into the lobby.
Buffy rummaged through her coat pocket, looking for Fred's cell phone number that she had written for her. She found it and dialed.
Fred answered. "Hello?"
"Hey Fred," Buffy said, slightly blushing at the images.
"Buffy, you ready to go?"
"I'm ready. I'm in the lobby, I just needed Xander to open up the trunk."
"Okay, he's opening it. Do you need help?"
"No, I can handle everything. Remember? I'm the strongest in the company."
Fred giggled, "Yeah, boy do I remember. We'll be waiting for you. See you."
"Bye."
Buffy loaded her bags into the trunk with great ease. Then, they were off to Angel Davenport's apartment. "I hope he's not THAT much of a pig."
*_-_*
Angel was watching a hockey game when the doorbell rang. He put down his beer on the glass table and braced himself for the worst.
He walked to the front door of his apartment and opened it. He looked at her frowning face and realized that he was frowning, too. Neither of them wanted to do this. But still.
He didn't say a word. He left her at the door, keeping it open. He went back to his hockey game and his icy cold beer. He put up his legs and sat back and relaxed.
"That was rude," Buffy commented under her breath. She hauled the four bags she had with her into the apartment and closed the door. She looked around in exploration. When you walked in, you were in the living room, which was attached to the dining room. Behind the living room/dining room was a small eat-in kitchen. To the right of the dining room was the TV room and bedroom (they shared a wall). To the left side of the living room was a bedroom. Near the entrance of the apartment there was a closet and full bathroom. Buffy put her coat away in the closet and set out to find out which room was hers. There was no point of asking the asshole that drank the beer and watched hockey when his new roommate was here. Oh yeah, he's REAL classy.
She went to the bigger bedroom by the living room side and was invited by Angel's musk. It smelled nice. She looked around his room. Unlit scented candles filled the room and surrounded the silk clad bed. He had silky red sheets, and when you touched them you couldn't help but gliding your hand over them. He had a few pictures around his room. A picture of him and an African American guy at a baseball game (little did she know that it was his PI partner, Gunn.) He also had a picture of him, Uncle Giles, and Wesley working at the office. It looked as if they had millions of pieces of paper on their desks. She saw a kid in a photo, his looks resembling Angel's. Next to him was a brunette, looking to be clad in expensive clothing. His room was nice, but it seemed a little dark and sad. She made her way to the kitchen and immediately saw the stack of dishes that were piled up in the sink. She then saw a dishwasher and grew furious.
"You have a dishwasher, use it," she muttered. She felt it was her responsibility to load the dishwasher so she did.
She put the soap in and turned it on.
She looked around the living room, sitting on the cushioned couches. 'Comfy,' she thought. 'But the style's all wrong.'
She glanced towards the dining room and walked towards it. She loved the mahogany table and the four chairs. She imagined what it would be like to have dinner with Angel in the candlelight. She looked over to where Angel was lying in the den and heard a burp escape his mouth. 'Yeah like that romantic dinner will ever happen,' she thought. She rolled her eyes and commented about the burping. She walked into the TV room and stood in front of the TV, turning it off. He glanced up at her.
"What the f*** is your problem," he said calmly.
"Let me state the problems I have that turn out to be your fault...One, the first time we meet you act all smug to me. Two, you disrespect me in front of the other employees at the office. Three, you gave me a bloody lip and now I think I need some stitches or at least ice. Four, after the fight, you're mad at me just because of the fact that I can beat you up and you can't admit it. Five, you don't say hello when I come here; you don't help with my bags, you don't show me around, nothing. Six, you leave a fricken stack of dishes in the sink when you are fortunate enough to have a dishwasher. Seven, you burp loudly as if it were to my face and your don't even say 'excuse me.' So don't ask me what the fuck MY problem is. Ask your f***in' self that question. And when you stop being the asshole you appear to be, you can properly give me the grand tour. Got it? I'll be in my room." She walked from the room and to where her bags were. She picked all of them up at the same time with great ease and walked to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She was so angry with him; she wanted to pull her hair out from the frustration.
She heard him scream. "I never should have become a PI, I never should have worked at the Watcher's. My life was so f***ing perfect before YOU came into it." She heard him growl, then stomp to his room and slam the door behind him.
Buffy looked around the room; it was white and plain. She had a queen-sized bed, a cabinet and a dresser in the room. She walked over toward the mirror that sat on top of the dresser. She looked at her reflection and looked deeply into her emerald pools that began to water. She could feel the tears build up in her eyes and felt the weird feeling your nose got when you were about to cry. She felt her mouth water up and closed her eyes, tears squeezing through her lids. "Nope," she whispered, "that didn't hurt one bit." She unloaded her tank top and shorts from the suitcase and changed. She was tired, so she got into bed. She quietly sobbed to herself, finally falling asleep.