(Untitled)

[exiledwatcher]

William the Bloody, alive and well in New Metropolis. Actually, not quite alive but all the same he seems to exist. Which I'm sure will give Angel quite the conniption. Not that it affects my state of being much these days. Angel seems to be doing quite well with his reformed Champion Investigations without me. Luckily for me, I have a

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[losther_faith]

Well, this week wasn't getting any fucking better.

I hadn't found Spike - not that I was really determined to. I went to a club last night and found another guy, took him home and kicked him out shortly afterwards. It wasn't entirely satisfying, but it was better than nothing. I'm still waitin' for the day I meet my match.

Should be interesting.

I knew I should go into the office (not that I've become one of those corporate fucks who says shit like 'go into the office') and look some stuff over. Like whatever the fuck happened to Lindsey and who's going to be the next CEO of the firm. 'Cause I ain't sticking around for long. Not as the big bad, anyway. It just ain't my schtick. Steal, kill, get paid. This desk job shit is quickly gettin' old. So down I went, telling the secretary to get me coffee, black, but there was already someone in my office.

In my chair.

Oh, fuck no. Nobody sits in my fuckin' chair.

"Move."

[exiledwatcher]

"Still lacking a bit in etiquette I see." What else could I have hoped for? Lindsey had gotten her our of prison to run errands for him. A slayer as personal gopher, how sad. Turning the chair around to face her I had a thought to put my feet up on the desk. That, would be a bit too Faith for me however.

"How long has it been Faith? Three? Four years? You look..." I paused taking in the hostility rising above her. "... the same." However many years it had been, it was not nearly enough. "In any event, it seems we're to work together."

[losther_faith]

"You'll be lackin' in something else if you don't move your ass."

But I decided not to wait. Patience was not one of my strengths. Coming back behind the desk, I grabbed the back of the chair and tilted it, giving Wesley no chance but to jump out - or fall on his ass. Whatever. I'm not picky. Maybe I can't speak twenty dead demon languages, but I'm stronger. Guess what counts?

Settling into the chair - damn nice chair - I slung my feet on the desk in front of me and stared at the man in front of me. "Haven't been keeping track," I said, "but I bet you have. I bet you know exactly how long it's been since the Council canned you. And what do you mean, we're working together. Since when?"

[exiledwatcher]

Ignoring her taking of the chair I walked over to the wet bar in the corner, dropping a pair of ice cubes into a tumbler and locating the bottle of Jamison on the shelf. "Since I had a call with Mr. Hart about, oh-" I checked my wristwatch, "-half an hour ago." I finished pouring and took a sip, leaning against the floor to ceiling windows, looking down on the city.

"To think, Angel used to occupy this office in Los Angeles." He always had enjoyed the view. New Metropolis still lacked the smog of LA thankfully. "My own office was just down the hall." She always had underestimated me. Not that she was the only one to.

"Now then. How do you feel about turtles?"

[losther_faith]

"Well, Angel's missin' out then." I grin. I bet good ol' Wesley thinks he can bother me with the news that the Senior Partners called him in. As if I give a shit. He can work for 'em if he wants to, there's enough room here for both of us and enough money too, probably. As long as I get mine, I'm good.

But I ain't stupid, and the irony of my old Watcher ending up in the same place as his 'wayward pupil' doesn't go past me.

"Splash me one, willya?" I raise my eyebrows at him. Somehow, my mood's gotten better. Don't know what about findin' Wesley in my office, sitting in my chair, would cheer me up, but apparently, it had. Or maybe the fact that tweedy, stiffly upper-lipped Wesley was now on the dark side. Now that's funny.

"And turtles? What about 'em? Never gave 'em too much thought before."

[exiledwatcher]

"Hmmmm." Yes, Angel was missing out as it were. Fortunately, he was hardly a concern today. Not after his rather public embarrassment courtesy of New Metropolis' latest flying man. Absently, I poured her a tumbler of whiskey, sliding it down the smooth mahogany topped desk into her hand. Idly I wondered if her time in prison had served any benefit to her at all

[losther_faith]

Taking the glass of whiskey in one hand, I switch the TV on with the other. I drain the glass as the surveillance tape plays. Well, fuck me sideways. Interesting doesn't begin to cover it.

As the tape stops and turns to static on the screen, I turn to Wesley, raising my eyebrows. "The Senior Partners want me to kill that? Oh, hell, I better get some kind of bonus, 'cause I'm guessing a giant turtle doesn't come with a how-to killing manual." I laugh. At least it'll be a challenge. I was gettin' kind of bored with dustin' vampires the old-fashioned way. Always good to change it up a bit, do something new.

"So riddle me this, Wes, old boy. What's with the change of heart? Last I heard, you were all heartbroken about being the loser even the Council didn't want. And now you're rugged and working for the evil lawyers? Don't seem like you, so what changed?"

[exiledwatcher]

"Aside from putting you into the good graces of the Senior Partners, avenging Lindsay will earn you a substantial bonus." Coldly smiling through my teeth I didn't feel the need to go over the exact details of the bonus. Suffice to say it may just work to thaw that frozen heart of hers.

Turning, I continued to take in the view, rattling the ice in my now empty glass. She wasn't the only one who wondered what had happened to the 'old' Wesley. Truthfully he had died with Fred, never to return. However, discussing my personal life with Faith was not part of my job.

"People change. Bring me a turtle, dead or alive. Just so long as its fresh." Leaving the glass on the bar I left, leaving the door open behind me. Suddenly, I was feeling nauseous.

[losther_faith]

Bring me a turtle.

I snort. There's one thing that good old Wesley still doesn't understand. I don't work for him. I don't work for the Senior Partners or Wolfram and Hart in general. I work for me. And I'm doing the job because it seems like fun. It's something new. And, yeah, the money don't hurt either.

Swinging my feet from the desk, I walk to the door, sticking my head into the hallway. Almost empty, except for the occasional lawyer. And Wesley's back.

"Learn to love it, Wesley," I call out after him. "We're on the same side now." Laughing, I blow him a kiss, not caring if he sees it or not. It might be even more fun to fuck with him now. But not right now. I got shit to do.