A Beggar nor a Borrower Be
I hate this. I can picture his face right now. What he'll say to me. Stupid self righteous git. Still, it has to be done. I'd thought about it the past few days, tried to find another solution, but this seems the quickest and easiest path to take. Not that the path isn't likely to be littered by proverbial land mines and all, but since when did
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"Why did we even bother coming back?" I wonder out loud, throwing my hands up in the air. Seems like everyone couldn't give a fucking toss, we fought on the good side and now we're yesterday's rubbish to be left on the heap? Got used up and spat out. Lesson for the day, stay dead. It's less bother.
"We've both laid our lives on the line for the people we loved. Time and time again we risked everything to keep those we cared about alive and well. Yeah, I know it sticks in your craw and Buffy and I were together. But it was real, I love- I loved her and you can't take that away from me. It's not even important whether or not she loved me back. The point is, Tara and I have paid our dues, and then some. And all we have got since we got back is bitching and worse from the people we thought were on our side."
I look down at the floor. This isn't going well. Part of me just wants to give him the finger and storm out. But I can't do that, I have to try for Tara's sake.
"At least give Tara a job. She deserves something out of this mess. She's a good person and she needs your help. To start again, be useful, have a purpose. You still do that right? Help people who need it?"
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I look up at him, halfway through his 'poor me' speech, turning my pen against my fingers, then tapping it on a pad of paper. He doesn't understand what I'm going through right now and ... I'm not going to tell him. Yeah, call me a two year old, but he started it. Took Buffy, made her ... have him in her heart, then told me that she wasn't baked yet? I still don't get that, but then again, Buffy was never good with words. And now, I have Faith to worry about and I just got her, and now it seems I'm losing her and I haven't got one god damn idea why.
At least give Tara a job. She deserves something out of this mess. She's a good person and she needs your help. To start again, be useful, have a purpose. You still do that right? Help people who need it.
Sighing, I sit up, pulling the chair more to the desk, folding my hands together. I don't even know who this Tara is, or maybe I do, and I just don't remember, or care. Right now, the only thing on my mind is Faith. With Wes. Wes -- the friend of mine that ... slept with her. I really need to stop thinking, I'm doing nothing but getting myself .. in a mood.
"Fine. What kind of job?" I move over to my bookshelf, pulling out a notebook with available apartments within Wolfram and Hart, seeing what's available. Just to get him to get out and leave me alone. I'd rather brood think alone and in silence.
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"Fine. What kind of job?"
"Tara's a witch. Real good with the mojo. She can heal stuff, just with the palm of her hand. So I was thinking one of the mystical departments. Maybe that Wesley bloke can take her under his wing. She and Willow used to be together back in Sunnydale, before she got shot by that psycho Warren. That's what sent Red off the deep end and made her go all the Black Widow on us, if you didn't already know. Not sure how much you kept up with the Sunnydale crowd."
I feel some of the pent up tension finally leave my body. Like I've done my bit. And I didn't even have to say 'please'. I'd been close to saying it though.
"You look like you have other things on your mind. I'll get out of your hair, then. Leave you to make the arrangements. But Angel, despite the fact that we hate each others guts, and probably always will, I meant what I said. I came back to help, to be useful. If I can."
Does he know what it's like to have no direction, no purpose? I need to find that again. I shove my hands in my pockets and wait for him to nod or wave me away.
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Tara's a witch. Real good with the mojo. She can heal stuff, just with the palm of her hand. So I was thinking one of the mystical departments. Maybe that Wesley bloke can take her under his wing. She and Willow used to be together back in Sunnydale, before she got shot by that psycho Warren. That's what sent Red off the deep end and made her go all the Black Widow on us, if you didn't already know. Not sure how much you kept up with the Sunnydale crowd.
"Where are you going to be at? I'm going to go ahead and get a room ready for you two, or whatever. Is that what you want?" I looked up at him, waiting for an answer, then put the book down, knowing where to stick them. For a moment, I wanted to tell him what was going on. Yeah, we hated eachother -- or we made it seem like we do, but still, he's Spike. We roamed the earth for decades together, us, Darla and Dru. But, I decided against it. Leaning back in my chair, I watched him for a second.
You look like you have other things on your mind. I'll get out of your hair, then. Leave you to make the arrangements. But Angel, despite the fact that we hate each others guts, and probably always will, I meant what I said. I came back to help, to be useful. If I can.
That changed my mind. Leaning up in my chair, I then stood up, going to the front of my desk, leaning against it, and crossing my arms. "I have a job for you then. Since you want to help."
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I nod and try not to look too grateful. Asking for a handout from Angel. Never thought I'd see the day.
"I have a job for you then. Since you want to help."
"I'm listening. Long as it doesn't involve shiny trinkets that make me burn from the inside out, mind."
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