ljs
in
gilesanya_fic
Partners, by LJS
Thanks to kathyh for my lovely new icon! :-)
In partial recompense, a quick ficlet in my I&A world, suitable for the theme.
TITLE: Partners
AUTHOR: LJS
PAIRING: Giles/Anya
RATING: G
LENGTH: 650 words
SUMMARY: An I&A ficlet (which diverges from canon in Season 7 after "Showtime"). An outsider's view of two business partners....
Bruce the Hated, Feared, and Loathed - like all Crepular demons, he had a taste for overstatement and redundancy - slunk into the shadows in front of the looming grey Bloomsbury building, and then looked again at the card in his clawed hand.
Giles and Jenkins, Investigations and Acquisitions. The extraordinary, found and explained. Reasonable Rates.
The moment he'd found the card on the board at Nalph's demon emporium, he'd remembered some years ago in that doomed town-stroke-Hellmouth of Sunnydale. Despite the fact that every demon breathing knew it was the Slayer's territory, he'd heard good things about a shop there, the Magic Box, and he had some slug candles (good for combating the curse of Creeping Dread, also for dry mouth) to sell.
He'd stood outside the Magic Box then, as he stood outside the Gilbert Place building now, and peered through the window. Nice place, yes - wood and glass and colour, polish and magic and the smells of power. Behind the counter a pretty, sharp-featured woman in a silk dress and a middle-aged man in a suit had been passing a crystal back and forth. On each pass the facets of the crystal had caught the light, just as Bruce had caught bits and pieces of their argument: “pricing,” “supplier vetted,” “back to England.”
He'd gone in then. The bell over the door had rung merrily at his entrance, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the man's testy “I told you I trusted you, Anya. We're partners.”
The crystal had stilled in the woman's - Anya's - hand, but Bruce had thought that all the light in the room had gone into the woman's smile. The man's hand had curved around hers, almost as if he couldn't help it, and they had breathed together for a moment, as if a spell had been cast and the world was only theirs.
Then the man had cleared his throat and took a step back, and the woman had lost the softness in her smile, and they had turned as one to Bruce.
“Welcome to the Magic Box! How may we help you?”
They had been partners all right, Bruce thought now. In fact, they'd run the good partner/bad partner bargaining game so well that he'd barely made any profit on the case of candles he'd sold them. Those were exactly the kind of folk he needed to help him recover his family Orb of Creb, now lost and suspected to be in the hands of quite the wrong demons.
Before he could push open the door and go inside, however, a weedy young man emerged. He seemed to be in a hurry, but when he saw Bruce, he slowed, took a quick and surprisingly intelligent survey, and said, “Hi! Andrew Wells here - are you Mr Feared and Loathed, the ten o'clock appointment for Giles and Jenkins? I think we spoke on the phone.”
“Hated, Feared, and Loathed. Yes - “
“Go on up. They're in.” Wells smiled, and then held the door so Bruce could enter.
Once on the correct floor, Bruce stopped outside the frosted glass door that read Giles and Jenkins. He could hear voices inside, just bits and pieces of a conversation: “Darling” and “ridiculous” and “grimoire” and “honey, seriously.”
When he went inside the seemingly empty office, the bell on the door rang merrily. It wasn't loud enough, however, to drown out the sounds of what he was fairly sure was a passionate human embrace in the next room.
“Excuse me?” he said tentatively.
From the open doorway at the back of the office space, a familiar pretty, sharp-featured woman and an equally familiar middle-aged man emerged. Her hair looked freshly tousled, he noticed, and the man's tie was crooked.
“Hello, how may we help you?” they said in unison, and smiled in unison.
Yes, Bruce thought, these were indeed partners. The very best kind.
In partial recompense, a quick ficlet in my I&A world, suitable for the theme.
TITLE: Partners
AUTHOR: LJS
PAIRING: Giles/Anya
RATING: G
LENGTH: 650 words
SUMMARY: An I&A ficlet (which diverges from canon in Season 7 after "Showtime"). An outsider's view of two business partners....
Bruce the Hated, Feared, and Loathed - like all Crepular demons, he had a taste for overstatement and redundancy - slunk into the shadows in front of the looming grey Bloomsbury building, and then looked again at the card in his clawed hand.
Giles and Jenkins, Investigations and Acquisitions. The extraordinary, found and explained. Reasonable Rates.
The moment he'd found the card on the board at Nalph's demon emporium, he'd remembered some years ago in that doomed town-stroke-Hellmouth of Sunnydale. Despite the fact that every demon breathing knew it was the Slayer's territory, he'd heard good things about a shop there, the Magic Box, and he had some slug candles (good for combating the curse of Creeping Dread, also for dry mouth) to sell.
He'd stood outside the Magic Box then, as he stood outside the Gilbert Place building now, and peered through the window. Nice place, yes - wood and glass and colour, polish and magic and the smells of power. Behind the counter a pretty, sharp-featured woman in a silk dress and a middle-aged man in a suit had been passing a crystal back and forth. On each pass the facets of the crystal had caught the light, just as Bruce had caught bits and pieces of their argument: “pricing,” “supplier vetted,” “back to England.”
He'd gone in then. The bell over the door had rung merrily at his entrance, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the man's testy “I told you I trusted you, Anya. We're partners.”
The crystal had stilled in the woman's - Anya's - hand, but Bruce had thought that all the light in the room had gone into the woman's smile. The man's hand had curved around hers, almost as if he couldn't help it, and they had breathed together for a moment, as if a spell had been cast and the world was only theirs.
Then the man had cleared his throat and took a step back, and the woman had lost the softness in her smile, and they had turned as one to Bruce.
“Welcome to the Magic Box! How may we help you?”
They had been partners all right, Bruce thought now. In fact, they'd run the good partner/bad partner bargaining game so well that he'd barely made any profit on the case of candles he'd sold them. Those were exactly the kind of folk he needed to help him recover his family Orb of Creb, now lost and suspected to be in the hands of quite the wrong demons.
Before he could push open the door and go inside, however, a weedy young man emerged. He seemed to be in a hurry, but when he saw Bruce, he slowed, took a quick and surprisingly intelligent survey, and said, “Hi! Andrew Wells here - are you Mr Feared and Loathed, the ten o'clock appointment for Giles and Jenkins? I think we spoke on the phone.”
“Hated, Feared, and Loathed. Yes - “
“Go on up. They're in.” Wells smiled, and then held the door so Bruce could enter.
Once on the correct floor, Bruce stopped outside the frosted glass door that read Giles and Jenkins. He could hear voices inside, just bits and pieces of a conversation: “Darling” and “ridiculous” and “grimoire” and “honey, seriously.”
When he went inside the seemingly empty office, the bell on the door rang merrily. It wasn't loud enough, however, to drown out the sounds of what he was fairly sure was a passionate human embrace in the next room.
“Excuse me?” he said tentatively.
From the open doorway at the back of the office space, a familiar pretty, sharp-featured woman and an equally familiar middle-aged man emerged. Her hair looked freshly tousled, he noticed, and the man's tie was crooked.
“Hello, how may we help you?” they said in unison, and smiled in unison.
Yes, Bruce thought, these were indeed partners. The very best kind.