Oh god, there's that smile again. It's like a viper waiting to get in a good blow. Which is exactly how I'm going to treat him. He used to work for Wolfram and Hart, used to go out of his way to get Angel killed. And just because in the end Angel got to him first? There's no need to be resentful. After all, it looks like the best man won. Even though it seemed to come with a rather large price.
And what does Angel do? He goes up to his room to brood. Because that helped so much the last time, or any given time. If he's going down the guilt lane again, I'm going to hit him over the head hard and drag him out of there. I'm sure Spike will give a gleeful hand if needed.
Sighing, I glanced out of the window as he started to shuffle through the papers. I turned back as he started to talk, noticing he put the mail on my desk. "I'm standing right here, McDonald," I said in a low voice. "I'm not out there being dragged into a hell pit. No matter how much you'd want that." Git. The only worst person they could've given me as an assistant would be Knox. Wonder how many times per day I'd get away with strangling him.
"Would I be standing here talking to you about something trivial as the mail for my job if I hadn't?" Ask a stupid question. Shaking my head, I gave him a tired look and sat down behind my desk. One thing's for certain, at least I wont be getting any bills now. Well, not one I'd have to pay with money anyway. "Do they have any tea around here? Preferably without poison. I may be dead, but I'd like to remain on my two feet."
My head was starting to pound. I'd tried being nice, that hadn't worked at all. This job must be some kind of lesser punishment. Working for him until the end of time was going to be one big pile of joy after another. I muttered something under my breath as I turned away from the window.
"I'll see if I can find you any. Um... I won't make it myself, because I don't know how, and if I did, I know you wouldn't even touch it if I managed to make it without it exploding like the last time." How did English people take their tea? I'd never really looked into that because I didn't drink the stuff.
I started towards the door, rubbing at my temple. "I'll be back in a few minutes, with the tea." Hopefully. Probably. Going outside, I let out a breath I don't need before walking to my office. Once inside, I call a couple of departments, trying to track down what he wants. All I have to do is mention who it's for, and I can hear them scrambling on the other end.
After a few minutes, small demon came in with a little pot of hot water, a cup, and a little tin of tea. There's also something that I have to assume is what he'll mix it with. Then a second demon comes in, and I wrinle my nose at the smell. He jams a piece of paper into my hand before running like I was going to hurt him.
Once I read it, a whole string of curses escape. This has to be some kind of sick hell joke they play on the new people. No way it can be true, but I'd better give it to Wes anyway. I set the note on the tray and carry it to his office.
"Here you go, sir." I set the whole thing down on the desk. "You might want to read the note, it has to do with your housing assignment down here." And mine. I start to fidget back and forth on the balls of my feet, waiting to see if he's just as thrilled as I am.
What do I dare what happened the last time he made tea? Why was he making tea anyway? Not at though he seems the type to actually like tea. Sodding git. Why oh why did I have to get stuck with him as my assistant. I mean really, why? Still, it could've been Knox, it could've been worse. Wonder where that git is. Has to be in hell somewhere, and not just because of some contract. Hmmm, might work on finding that out later.
Sitting down behind the desk, and good lord, could this chair get any more uncomfortable? I started to shuffle through the papers. Land dispute. Partner dispute. Pet dispute. Dispute. Dispute. Blah blah blah. I can see why they made him my assistant by now. Great, absolutely grand. At least there doesn't seem to be.... Wait a minute. Didn't he just empty that mailbox? It's just as full as it was before. Hell.
I glanced up when a cup of tea was placed in front of me with the 'sir' again. Raising my eyebrow at that, I eyed the tea and wondered if it was poisoned. Really, that wouldn't surprise me. "Note?" Frowning, I looked at the note on the tray. "Can't you stand still?" What's wrong with him? Isn't he supposed to be used to the Hell business, he's acting nervous. Shaking my head I fold open the note and scan over it.
Oh goody, he's not happy about it either. Glad I'm not the only one. And no, I can't stand still. They did this on purpose, just to bother the shit out of both of us. Maybe I could turn it down, find somewhere else, except I wasn't really sure what would happen to me since these orders were coming down from the top.
"I have to assume it's very serious since the demon who handed it to me ran away as fast as he could." I rubbed my temple. Look at that, you could still get stress headaches when you're dead and in hell. How marvelous. I frowned over at the mailbox on the wall. Didn't I empty that before? I sighed.
"If you don't want me there, I'm sure I can find some other kind of arrangements. Or sleep in doorway or something." Not all of the hell demons had to be nasty, right? Maybe one of them needed a room mate. "Perhaps they are thinking that by doing this, I'm getting punished on a whole new level." Damn headache. "It's your call, sir. Whatever you say, I'll have to do."
"Will you stop calling me 'Sir'. You make me sound like my father." And I can do without that thank you so very much. I wonder if he'll end up here as well in a few years. Must remember to give him a very warm welcome. Wonder if I can look things like that up. Must ask the git later, we have a very different problem on our hands.
"And could you drop the self sacrificing tone as well? You may fool the big guns upstairs...or downstairs, wherever they are, with that. But you're not fooling me."
Stupid twit is getting on my nerves already. And I'm supposed to share a house with him? I hope it's a big house. Though, considering this is hell, I gather I should be grateful for a two bedroom apartment. "We'll deal with that later." Or never, never would work for me. I can be in the same room with someone and ignore them completely. Just ask Illyria. Maybe if I ignore this matter, it'll go away as well. I refuse to give in to the Senior Partners perty little tricks.
"What I would like to know is, why is my mailbox full again? You just emptied it." Bet if he takes that out, it'll fill just as fast again. Hell's paperwork. Makes me wonder what Lilah is doing. Maybe I should to see her.
"Fine." I practically spat the word at him. He's really starting to piss me off. "What do you want me to call you then?" I had a couple of names that sprung to mind, but they weren't very nice at all and I bit my tongue very hard to keep from saying them out loud.
"It's not my fault you're stuck down here, so I really wish you'd get that stick out of your ass. You weren't the one murdered by someone who you thought was your friend." That had hurt more than the bullets. Managed to shut my mouth before I said anything else.
I walked over to the mailbox and grabbed the papers, sorting through them. When I turned back there was already more in the box. "Because this is hell and they have nothing better to do than keep us busy with things they could easily handle themselves."
Flipped through the papers and snorted. "Deal with demons, see why the humans in pit 32 weren't being tortured long enough, and find out who had been eating the toner for the copy machine on the third floor. Eating the toner?" I set the papers on his desk. "This is all just busy work, none of it is vital."
I gave him a slight smile that wasn't at all nice. It was good to remember that I was in a position to actually have him reprimanded for such a tone. "My name is Wesley, McDonald. And why should I remove the stick from my arse, while your still clinging on so fiercely to yours." This little job of his might just be more amusing then I thought. Well, you had to make the best of things in Hell.
So he was murdered by Lorne. Boohoo, I'm in tears. No really, but only for Lorne. Angel should've never asked that of him. Gunn or Spike or even myself would've done the job. Well, maybe not Gunn. Then again, we were all doomed. All except Lorne. But he'd never seen it coming from Lorne. Which is probably why Angel did it. I hope Lorne's happy wherever he is, though I doubt it. I should look him up maybe.
"If you expect me to have sympathy for someone who's gone out of his way to kill Angel for years now, I suggest you look elsewhere. You're just pissed because in the end he won and you didn't. The only one I feel sorry for is Lorne. Now I don't want to hear another word about it." Arsehole and his stuck up attitude. He's no longer the hot shot lawyer here.
"Eating the toner?" Why would anyone want to eat the toner and why do we care? "Just tell them to keep buying new toner. It's not as though we really care about that." I grabbed the other papers and glanced over them. Hmmm. Hell pit 32 didn't seem very high ranked. Maybe I could start my little rebellion there. Though, quietly of course. Can't trust anyone here. Least of of Mister 'I've a stick up my arse myself and woe me I've been shot' McDonald here.
Wesley 'I'm dead and very pissed off about being in hell even though I have a very high position' Wyndam-Pryce. Fine. Whatever you say, boss. I do not have a stick up my ass either. Besides, if I'd really wanted to kill Angel, he would be dead.
I almost said something very rude, but he'd told me he didn't want to hear any more about it, so I had to shut up. Part of me was curious as to what he might do for a punishment though. Need to behave myself, no matter how angry I am.
"I don't think they'll like your answer about the toner." And they always hurt the messenger. "That crap is expensive. Can't you like use your powers to see who it is so they can be punished for it? Has to be a demon, humans wouldn't even think about putting that stuff in their mouth."
There was a rustle of paper and when I turned to look at the mailbox, it was full again. "I'm starting to think your mailbox is evil." Walking over, I grabbed it all. Maybe if we covered it with duct tape, it would seal shut. That gave me an idea. I set my arm across the hole and waited.
My arm started to tingle and the next thing I knew, I piece of paper sliced through it. "Fuck!" This was like the mother of all papercuts. I hopped around for a moment, swearing in every language I knew before slapping at the mailbox with my hand. I'd just had a fight with a mailbox. When I turned around I know I was blushing. "Um... sorry?"
Look at that. Now that's what I call inner seething. I bet he's convincing himself now that if he wanted Angel dead, he'd be dead by now. Well...deader. And he does have a stick up his arse. Lawyers, really. And it looks like the fellow is holding back. He really does have to do what I tell him doesn't he? This could prove to be quite entertaining.
"Oh they don't hmmm?" Well, isn't that just to bad. I glanced at the paper in question and nodded at that. "Well, that's to bad then. I'll handle it the modern way and e-mail them my decision." Punishment, always about punishment. I'm not going to punish someone who ate hell toner. That fact was more then enough punishment.
I kept on shuffling through the papers until I heard McDonald curse under his breath. Raising an eyebrow, I looked at him blankly as he was doing near mortal combat with my mail box. When he was finally done I blinked at him. "When you're quite done molesting my mailbox? Can we move on to our work again? That would be splendid." Dear god, what an idiotic git. And this was to be my assistant? Grief.
And what does Angel do? He goes up to his room to brood. Because that helped so much the last time, or any given time. If he's going down the guilt lane again, I'm going to hit him over the head hard and drag him out of there. I'm sure Spike will give a gleeful hand if needed.
Sighing, I glanced out of the window as he started to shuffle through the papers. I turned back as he started to talk, noticing he put the mail on my desk. "I'm standing right here, McDonald," I said in a low voice. "I'm not out there being dragged into a hell pit. No matter how much you'd want that." Git. The only worst person they could've given me as an assistant would be Knox. Wonder how many times per day I'd get away with strangling him.
"Would I be standing here talking to you about something trivial as the mail for my job if I hadn't?" Ask a stupid question. Shaking my head, I gave him a tired look and sat down behind my desk. One thing's for certain, at least I wont be getting any bills now. Well, not one I'd have to pay with money anyway. "Do they have any tea around here? Preferably without poison. I may be dead, but I'd like to remain on my two feet."
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"I'll see if I can find you any. Um... I won't make it myself, because I don't know how, and if I did, I know you wouldn't even touch it if I managed to make it without it exploding like the last time." How did English people take their tea? I'd never really looked into that because I didn't drink the stuff.
I started towards the door, rubbing at my temple. "I'll be back in a few minutes, with the tea." Hopefully. Probably. Going outside, I let out a breath I don't need before walking to my office. Once inside, I call a couple of departments, trying to track down what he wants. All I have to do is mention who it's for, and I can hear them scrambling on the other end.
After a few minutes, small demon came in with a little pot of hot water, a cup, and a little tin of tea. There's also something that I have to assume is what he'll mix it with. Then a second demon comes in, and I wrinle my nose at the smell. He jams a piece of paper into my hand before running like I was going to hurt him.
Once I read it, a whole string of curses escape. This has to be some kind of sick hell joke they play on the new people. No way it can be true, but I'd better give it to Wes anyway. I set the note on the tray and carry it to his office.
"Here you go, sir." I set the whole thing down on the desk. "You might want to read the note, it has to do with your housing assignment down here." And mine. I start to fidget back and forth on the balls of my feet, waiting to see if he's just as thrilled as I am.
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Sitting down behind the desk, and good lord, could this chair get any more uncomfortable? I started to shuffle through the papers. Land dispute. Partner dispute. Pet dispute. Dispute. Dispute. Blah blah blah. I can see why they made him my assistant by now. Great, absolutely grand. At least there doesn't seem to be.... Wait a minute. Didn't he just empty that mailbox? It's just as full as it was before. Hell.
I glanced up when a cup of tea was placed in front of me with the 'sir' again. Raising my eyebrow at that, I eyed the tea and wondered if it was poisoned. Really, that wouldn't surprise me. "Note?" Frowning, I looked at the note on the tray. "Can't you stand still?" What's wrong with him? Isn't he supposed to be used to the Hell business, he's acting nervous. Shaking my head I fold open the note and scan over it.
"What the bloody hell. Are they serious?"
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"I have to assume it's very serious since the demon who handed it to me ran away as fast as he could." I rubbed my temple. Look at that, you could still get stress headaches when you're dead and in hell. How marvelous. I frowned over at the mailbox on the wall. Didn't I empty that before? I sighed.
"If you don't want me there, I'm sure I can find some other kind of arrangements. Or sleep in doorway or something." Not all of the hell demons had to be nasty, right? Maybe one of them needed a room mate. "Perhaps they are thinking that by doing this, I'm getting punished on a whole new level." Damn headache. "It's your call, sir. Whatever you say, I'll have to do."
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"And could you drop the self sacrificing tone as well? You may fool the big guns upstairs...or downstairs, wherever they are, with that. But you're not fooling me."
Stupid twit is getting on my nerves already. And I'm supposed to share a house with him? I hope it's a big house. Though, considering this is hell, I gather I should be grateful for a two bedroom apartment. "We'll deal with that later." Or never, never would work for me. I can be in the same room with someone and ignore them completely. Just ask Illyria. Maybe if I ignore this matter, it'll go away as well. I refuse to give in to the Senior Partners perty little tricks.
"What I would like to know is, why is my mailbox full again? You just emptied it." Bet if he takes that out, it'll fill just as fast again. Hell's paperwork. Makes me wonder what Lilah is doing. Maybe I should to see her.
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"It's not my fault you're stuck down here, so I really wish you'd get that stick out of your ass. You weren't the one murdered by someone who you thought was your friend." That had hurt more than the bullets. Managed to shut my mouth before I said anything else.
I walked over to the mailbox and grabbed the papers, sorting through them. When I turned back there was already more in the box. "Because this is hell and they have nothing better to do than keep us busy with things they could easily handle themselves."
Flipped through the papers and snorted. "Deal with demons, see why the humans in pit 32 weren't being tortured long enough, and find out who had been eating the toner for the copy machine on the third floor. Eating the toner?" I set the papers on his desk. "This is all just busy work, none of it is vital."
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So he was murdered by Lorne. Boohoo, I'm in tears. No really, but only for Lorne. Angel should've never asked that of him. Gunn or Spike or even myself would've done the job. Well, maybe not Gunn. Then again, we were all doomed. All except Lorne. But he'd never seen it coming from Lorne. Which is probably why Angel did it. I hope Lorne's happy wherever he is, though I doubt it. I should look him up maybe.
"If you expect me to have sympathy for someone who's gone out of his way to kill Angel for years now, I suggest you look elsewhere. You're just pissed because in the end he won and you didn't. The only one I feel sorry for is Lorne. Now I don't want to hear another word about it." Arsehole and his stuck up attitude. He's no longer the hot shot lawyer here.
"Eating the toner?" Why would anyone want to eat the toner and why do we care? "Just tell them to keep buying new toner. It's not as though we really care about that." I grabbed the other papers and glanced over them. Hmmm. Hell pit 32 didn't seem very high ranked. Maybe I could start my little rebellion there. Though, quietly of course. Can't trust anyone here. Least of of Mister 'I've a stick up my arse myself and woe me I've been shot' McDonald here.
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I almost said something very rude, but he'd told me he didn't want to hear any more about it, so I had to shut up. Part of me was curious as to what he might do for a punishment though. Need to behave myself, no matter how angry I am.
"I don't think they'll like your answer about the toner." And they always hurt the messenger. "That crap is expensive. Can't you like use your powers to see who it is so they can be punished for it? Has to be a demon, humans wouldn't even think about putting that stuff in their mouth."
There was a rustle of paper and when I turned to look at the mailbox, it was full again. "I'm starting to think your mailbox is evil." Walking over, I grabbed it all. Maybe if we covered it with duct tape, it would seal shut. That gave me an idea. I set my arm across the hole and waited.
My arm started to tingle and the next thing I knew, I piece of paper sliced through it. "Fuck!" This was like the mother of all papercuts. I hopped around for a moment, swearing in every language I knew before slapping at the mailbox with my hand. I'd just had a fight with a mailbox. When I turned around I know I was blushing. "Um... sorry?"
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"Oh they don't hmmm?" Well, isn't that just to bad. I glanced at the paper in question and nodded at that. "Well, that's to bad then. I'll handle it the modern way and e-mail them my decision." Punishment, always about punishment. I'm not going to punish someone who ate hell toner. That fact was more then enough punishment.
I kept on shuffling through the papers until I heard McDonald curse under his breath. Raising an eyebrow, I looked at him blankly as he was doing near mortal combat with my mail box. When he was finally done I blinked at him. "When you're quite done molesting my mailbox? Can we move on to our work again? That would be splendid." Dear god, what an idiotic git. And this was to be my assistant? Grief.
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