He stumbles in my grasp before pulling away. He talks of 'manhandling' now and I find myself smiling. If a little hand-holding gets this reaction I think it's safe to say that Pryce doesn't know the meaning of the word.
If it were anyone else - well anyone not currently cleaning up the mess they'd just made and grumbling to ghosts about who made it - I might make this mention.
Instead one of the names he keeps using finally catches my interest, and I realize 'Lilah' is Lilah Morgan. Wolfram & Hart's CEO at the time of the Beast. Immediately before Angel's appointment.
At the same time, Pryce is claiming an inability to flirt.
I slip my hands into my pockets, ignoring the inkstains beginning to feel sticky through the fabric of my shirts, and watch Pryce fold in on himself as he speaks to his ghosts. He almost seems to have forgotten that I'm here.
"Hmm. Well. There's no accounting for taste, I suppose." I'd have thought he'd have no trouble getting the little girls around here to play house with him, if that's what he's after. He's certainly no trouble to look at. I can name one reason, if none other, that Angel keeps him handy - employee-shooting tendencies and manic mood swings aside.
"I was just passing by. Thought I'd drop in and see what Angel's Head of Research has been doing with his valuable time."
Taste? Taste? What is he going on about now then? Hopefully my tea, which he still hasn't gotten me. I'm going to have to have a word about that with Angel. Come on now, I've asked him several times over if he'd fetch my tea. Did he? No. I'm still standing here empty handed, and very tealess.
Sacrilege, that's what it is.
Humming, I glanced at my watch. Funny, it seemed to have moved since the last time I checked. Was it supposed to do that? Was time supposed to move on when the world around you had stopped moving? I don't think that's entirely fair. Frowning, I shook the watch and held it up to my ear. Maybe it was some technical fault, one never knew.
"Tick tock, time is slipping," I mumbled, shaking the wrist with my watch again. Valuable time. Wait, that was an echo wasn't it? I now have an echo in my room?
Confused I looked up from my watch and noticed this fellow was still here. The one who'd not brought me my tea. Even though I'd asked nicely. Sort off. Oh wait, he was the one who mentioned time.
"Well," I said, shaking my watch again confused as it kept on moving, "As head of research, I've been doing just that. Research." Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back against the desk and rolled my eyes at him. "What do you think I'm doing here? Have tea?"
I paused at that, giving him a small glare. "Which I could've had, if you hadn't been so stubborn in your refusal of getting me as such. Mister Hamilton, Marcus." Git, how much trouble would it be to get some tea? I'd have invited him to have some with me. He seems like a....erm....interesting sort of fellow.
If it were anyone else - well anyone not currently cleaning up the mess they'd just made and grumbling to ghosts about who made it - I might make this mention.
Instead one of the names he keeps using finally catches my interest, and I realize 'Lilah' is Lilah Morgan. Wolfram & Hart's CEO at the time of the Beast. Immediately before Angel's appointment.
At the same time, Pryce is claiming an inability to flirt.
I slip my hands into my pockets, ignoring the inkstains beginning to feel sticky through the fabric of my shirts, and watch Pryce fold in on himself as he speaks to his ghosts. He almost seems to have forgotten that I'm here.
"Hmm. Well. There's no accounting for taste, I suppose." I'd have thought he'd have no trouble getting the little girls around here to play house with him, if that's what he's after. He's certainly no trouble to look at. I can name one reason, if none other, that Angel keeps him handy - employee-shooting tendencies and manic mood swings aside.
"I was just passing by. Thought I'd drop in and see what Angel's Head of Research has been doing with his valuable time."
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Sacrilege, that's what it is.
Humming, I glanced at my watch. Funny, it seemed to have moved since the last time I checked. Was it supposed to do that? Was time supposed to move on when the world around you had stopped moving? I don't think that's entirely fair. Frowning, I shook the watch and held it up to my ear. Maybe it was some technical fault, one never knew.
"Tick tock, time is slipping," I mumbled, shaking the wrist with my watch again. Valuable time. Wait, that was an echo wasn't it? I now have an echo in my room?
Confused I looked up from my watch and noticed this fellow was still here. The one who'd not brought me my tea. Even though I'd asked nicely. Sort off. Oh wait, he was the one who mentioned time.
"Well," I said, shaking my watch again confused as it kept on moving, "As head of research, I've been doing just that. Research." Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back against the desk and rolled my eyes at him. "What do you think I'm doing here? Have tea?"
I paused at that, giving him a small glare. "Which I could've had, if you hadn't been so stubborn in your refusal of getting me as such. Mister Hamilton, Marcus." Git, how much trouble would it be to get some tea? I'd have invited him to have some with me. He seems like a....erm....interesting sort of fellow.
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