The echo of my heels are the only thing I hear as I make my way down to my car, my jacket and purse tightly fisted in my hands as my eyes burn. Maybe it was time to find another job, someplace new where they didn't put me into some sort of like peg-hole or something and I wasn't allowed to be anything else but what they thought I was.
I wasn't evil, couldn't they see that? Okay, I wasn't very good at it, but that's so not the point, I can be a good person if they'd only let me. They never have and they never will, especially with Cordy gone now I don't think I'll ever have someone on my side.
"Where you think you're goin' Harm?" I stop dead in my tracks finding Spike glaring at me with his arms crossed over himself. "Work day's not done."
Rolling my eyes at him I walk right through him, smirking as I hear him yelled at the annoyance. "What do you care? You're a ghost, you can't stop me or anything. I'm going home Spike, you'd leave here if you could too so don't give me anything alright?"
I reach into my purse and pull out my keys, slipping them into the lock before I sit down into my seat. I turn to see Spike blinking at me, trying to wonder what the hell I just said to him. "Not in the mood for this alright? They're never going to get that I'm not going to be Angel because I don't have a soul or nothin', but I'm not evil like they think. I just wish they'd see that, alright?" I turn the key and start blasting the CD I have in my player - Barbie Girl by Aqua - and pull the car in reverse so I can make the quick drive to my apartment. Maybe coming to work for people I knew wasn't a good idea.
This is not my pen. I don’t have silly pens like these I know that much. Pulling my glasses out of my pocket, I squint at the pen while I wait for the world to come back into focus. No, this is most defiantly not my pen. Shrugging at that, I sigh and move back to the work at hand. More papers, more reports to look over, more propositions Angel wants me to look over, more cases Gunn wants me to look at, more plans Fred wants my help with.
I wonder what would happen if I were to just walk out and quit. Would they flail about of would they just shrug their shoulders and find another fool to be their lackey. At least Lorne doesn’t… wait, what is this? A report on Elvis from Lorne? What? Letting the pen drop, I run my hands through my hair and wonder what I’m doing. Of course that is the exact moment I hear Fred and Knox just outside my door, giggling, being cute with each other.
Nearly makes me vomit.
“The hell with this,” I mutter under my breath. Grabbing my coat, I stride out of my room, locking it behind me and storm toward the lift. Fred’s calling out to me, but I ignore her easily and just step into the contraption and heave a sigh when the doors are closing. “I need a bloody drink,” I sigh.
“Best suggestion you made all day, mate,” Spike voice comes from beside me suddenly.
I jump and glare at him, without much effect as per usual. “I thought you were stalking Harmony, showing her how much of a man you were.”
He shrugs, following me out of the lift and toward my car. “Yeah well, she aint playin’ fair. ‘Sides, I rather go out with you so you can drink one on me eh?”
The radio blares as I make my way out of the parking lot of Wolfram and Hart, heading down towards my apartment. To be alone. No, I don't count the new puppy I got. I can't even get him to come near me, he smells the demon inside and hides. I only know he's still alive 'cause the food's gone when I come home.
All this sucking is pissing me off.
I groan and tighten my hands on the steering wheel and doing my best to forget everything going on. Not like I could, it slapped me in the face every time I looked in the mirror and saw nothing there.
"Fuck this." I grip the wheel and spin it almost totally around, hearing screeching of tires in the distance as I make a U-turn from the direction of my apartment and head towards a bar. They're one of the only places in LA that will make real bloody Mary's. I need a few...maybe ten or so right about now.
I pull up and hop out of the car, leaving it parked in the closest spot to the door. "Oh, I'll remember it's in the blue spot." Even when I'm drunk. How nice of them to keep everything color coded. I march my way into the bar, pulling off my suit jacket and pulling my hair down as I head over to the bar. "Real bloody Mary please." I slap down a ten and sit down at the stool by the bar. "I have a high tolerance so don't worry about me getting drunk so no stopping them from coming. Okay?"
“What?’ I stare at Spike as though he’s gone mad while thinking that’s the best idea he’s had thus far. I frantically try to remember if I have any bottles left here, but then realize that Angel took them away. Said he had guests and asked for them. He took them away though, I’m not a fool. I may have been naïve at one point, but I was never a fool.
“Go,” Spike stretches the words, “out for a sodding drink. C’mon mate, you’re wound up so tight you make barb wire look soft.”
That has to be the most grammatically incorrect metaphor I’ve ever heard. I blink at him before looking down at the load of work stacked up on my desk. “I’ve work to do,” I mutter unconvincingly.
“Uh huh and it’ll still be here tomorrow. Look, Percy, weren’t you gonna change things here? Not runnin’ yourself into the ground and oh…I dunno…dyin’? Would be good yeah?”
He…has a point. I frown up at him and then sigh when he makes a motion with his hand that’s the universal sign that I am to follow him. And I really don’t know why, I’m guessing the stress of the day is getting to me, but I find myself doing exactly that. Rubbing a hand over my face, I trail after him tiredly, across the floor where no one is to be found, into the lift and pausing at a car…that is not mine. “This isn’t my car,” I point out feebly.
“So? Like peaches is gonna notice. Live on the wild side for a change, c’mon.”
Oh, the bloody hell with it. Another sigh gets out as I slip behind the wheel. “I’m blaming you if he finds out,” I mutter, staring the car and driving out of the garage.
“No worries, ‘M sure he’ll do that for you,” Spike smirks, “Take a left at the end, I know just the pub for us. You’re gonna love it.”
Well, now that he told me that, I’m very much afraid.
The echo of my heels are the only thing I hear as I make my way down to my car, my jacket and purse tightly fisted in my hands as my eyes burn. Maybe it was time to find another job, someplace new where they didn't put me into some sort of like peg-hole or something and I wasn't allowed to be anything else but what they thought I was.
I wasn't evil, couldn't they see that? Okay, I wasn't very good at it, but that's so not the point, I can be a good person if they'd only let me. They never have and they never will, especially with Cordy gone now I don't think I'll ever have someone on my side.
"Where you think you're goin' Harm?" I stop dead in my tracks finding Spike glaring at me with his arms crossed over himself. "Work day's not done."
Rolling my eyes at him I walk right through him, smirking as I hear him yelled at the annoyance. "What do you care? You're a ghost, you can't stop me or anything. I'm going home Spike, you'd leave here if you could too so don't give me anything alright?"
I reach into my purse and pull out my keys, slipping them into the lock before I sit down into my seat. I turn to see Spike blinking at me, trying to wonder what the hell I just said to him. "Not in the mood for this alright? They're never going to get that I'm not going to be Angel because I don't have a soul or nothin', but I'm not evil like they think. I just wish they'd see that, alright?" I turn the key and start blasting the CD I have in my player - Barbie Girl by Aqua - and pull the car in reverse so I can make the quick drive to my apartment. Maybe coming to work for people I knew wasn't a good idea.
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I wonder what would happen if I were to just walk out and quit. Would they flail about of would they just shrug their shoulders and find another fool to be their lackey. At least Lorne doesn’t… wait, what is this? A report on Elvis from Lorne? What? Letting the pen drop, I run my hands through my hair and wonder what I’m doing. Of course that is the exact moment I hear Fred and Knox just outside my door, giggling, being cute with each other.
Nearly makes me vomit.
“The hell with this,” I mutter under my breath. Grabbing my coat, I stride out of my room, locking it behind me and storm toward the lift. Fred’s calling out to me, but I ignore her easily and just step into the contraption and heave a sigh when the doors are closing. “I need a bloody drink,” I sigh.
“Best suggestion you made all day, mate,” Spike voice comes from beside me suddenly.
I jump and glare at him, without much effect as per usual. “I thought you were stalking Harmony, showing her how much of a man you were.”
He shrugs, following me out of the lift and toward my car. “Yeah well, she aint playin’ fair. ‘Sides, I rather go out with you so you can drink one on me eh?”
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All this sucking is pissing me off.
I groan and tighten my hands on the steering wheel and doing my best to forget everything going on. Not like I could, it slapped me in the face every time I looked in the mirror and saw nothing there.
"Fuck this." I grip the wheel and spin it almost totally around, hearing screeching of tires in the distance as I make a U-turn from the direction of my apartment and head towards a bar. They're one of the only places in LA that will make real bloody Mary's. I need a few...maybe ten or so right about now.
I pull up and hop out of the car, leaving it parked in the closest spot to the door. "Oh, I'll remember it's in the blue spot." Even when I'm drunk. How nice of them to keep everything color coded. I march my way into the bar, pulling off my suit jacket and pulling my hair down as I head over to the bar. "Real bloody Mary please." I slap down a ten and sit down at the stool by the bar. "I have a high tolerance so don't worry about me getting drunk so no stopping them from coming. Okay?"
Reply
“Go,” Spike stretches the words, “out for a sodding drink. C’mon mate, you’re wound up so tight you make barb wire look soft.”
That has to be the most grammatically incorrect metaphor I’ve ever heard. I blink at him before looking down at the load of work stacked up on my desk. “I’ve work to do,” I mutter unconvincingly.
“Uh huh and it’ll still be here tomorrow. Look, Percy, weren’t you gonna change things here? Not runnin’ yourself into the ground and oh…I dunno…dyin’? Would be good yeah?”
He…has a point. I frown up at him and then sigh when he makes a motion with his hand that’s the universal sign that I am to follow him. And I really don’t know why, I’m guessing the stress of the day is getting to me, but I find myself doing exactly that. Rubbing a hand over my face, I trail after him tiredly, across the floor where no one is to be found, into the lift and pausing at a car…that is not mine. “This isn’t my car,” I point out feebly.
“So? Like peaches is gonna notice. Live on the wild side for a change, c’mon.”
Oh, the bloody hell with it. Another sigh gets out as I slip behind the wheel. “I’m blaming you if he finds out,” I mutter, staring the car and driving out of the garage.
“No worries, ‘M sure he’ll do that for you,” Spike smirks, “Take a left at the end, I know just the pub for us. You’re gonna love it.”
Well, now that he told me that, I’m very much afraid.
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