I hear Buffy opening my room’s door but I don’t bother to open my eyes and show her that I’m not sleeping. I’m tired and I’m not even sure if I want to talk with her at the moment, I did spend half of the day with dad, which might cause me a homicidal tendencies. One can tell that dad really has got no idea how to treat a teenager; I suppose he
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And who, my God, who is calling me at this hour?
“I got it,” I call to my sister, fumbling for the phone on my bedside table and bringing it to my ear. “Hello?”
What’s with me tonight? I turn the phone on, and then try again. “Hi, this is Buffy.”
I have to talk to Dad about getting an unlisted phone number.
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"Um, hi. I'm sorry I'm calling this late, but I kinda... couldn't wait." I am not social. I don't do social. This sucks. "I was given this number in Wolfram and Hart and said to call if I need help. I'm Connor. And I'm really sorry for calling this late..."
I can't help but wonder that maybe I would do better on my own that with a help from a girl named Buffy...
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“Connor, hi. It’s - no problem.”
It really is no problem. Angel’s actually making sure I get paid for this, which is kind of refreshing, considering slaying’s pretty much been a non-profit gig. And here I thought Anya was nuts for suggesting that I try looking at it from the money angle.
Exhaustion makes my mind wander like crazy.
“Is everything okay?”
Question of the week, Buffy. Of course everything’s not okay. That’s why he’s calling at - I glance at the clock - two in the morning. Maybe I should just let him talk. I’m not doing very well at it.
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Um, was she for real? Who in their right mind calls someone they doesn't know in two in the morning when everything is ok? Yeah, I'm really starting to doubt she can help me, though, yeah, I suppose she could be tired. It's not like she doesn't sleep. That's only me lately...
"Not really. I don't know if Angel told you why I need help... See, my parents... they were kidnapped few weeks ago... kidnapped by some... things." I wonder if any of what I said makes any sense. Especially at two in the morning to a girl named Buffy.
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And on top of everything, there was nothing that Wolfram and Hart could do about this? I’m not a detective. I’m a Slayer. I Slay. Investigation has never been part of the job.
“Connor,” I start, and then pause. What am I going to say to the kid? By all rights, this is Angel’s job, not mine. And at the end of the day, he’s getting paid a whole lot more than I am. But I vowed to protect the kid, and protect him I shall. “Why don’t we meet somewhere? We should probably be doing this face to face.”
I let out a quiet sigh and resign myself to another sleepless night. It’s okay. It probably would’ve been sleepless anyway.
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"And again, I'm really sorry for calling this late..." I forgot people actually sleeps during the night...
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