| Subject: What We Regain (Part 1) |
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Nestra
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Date Posted: 19:43:16 11/25/02 Mon
In reply to:
Nestra
's message, "What We Regain" on 19:41:47 11/25/02 Mon
************
Now we all take our chances on what we regain,
But only fools would rush in where an angel's been slain.
--Beth Patterson
************
The tasteful overhead lighting bounced off of Nathan Reed's bald head as he sat at his desk. I had to wonder how much it distracted judges and opposing attorneys, since I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off of the shiny patch. Come to think of it, maybe that was half the point. Stupid to be so focused on Nathan's head, but anything was better than thinking about the report I'd handed him twenty minutes ago. It had taken me most of the night to slap together a combination of half-truths, mistruths, and wishful thinking.
The chance that Nathan would buy the bullshit I'd spun--well, slim to none. But I'd spent years working at Wolfram and Hart. They'd trained me to lie with a straight face to anyone and everyone. Even them.
The reflection off of Nathan's head flashed when he looked up, fixing me with an unblinking stare. Kinda like a cat. I reminded myself not to squirm and stared right back, just like I'd face off a hostile judge.
Only I was the one on trial.
"Strategy," he said.
I'd committed myself. I had to stick to my story, even though I had the feeling that Nathan wasn't buying it for a second. "That's right," I replied.
He raised an eyebrow. On his cadaverous face, the effect was creepy. "You call it strategy, letting Angel corner you in an elevator, shove your face into the wall, and ravish you like the heroine of some cheap romance novel?" The eyebrow climbed a little higher.
I'd never heard Nathan phrase anything so rudely. I couldn't tell if he was trying to shock me or if he was just upset with me. Or both. I was tempted to make a joke about "taking one for the team", but I didn't think it would go over so well.
"Or perhaps," he said, before I could answer, "you could explain the strategy involved in warning Angel that Darla and Drusilla are plotting against him, thereby putting him on his guard?"
"It's all in my report," I said, gesturing toward his desk.
"I'm well aware of that," he replied. "I want to hear it from you."
I wondered what would happen to me if he didn't like my answer. A quick death, maybe, if I got lucky. Unfortunately, I'd seen a lot of unlucky people in the time I'd been working at Wolfram and Hart.
I just hadn't been prepared for this. I'd gotten about three hours' sleep, and I probably still had bourbon running through my veins. I'd spent most of the past week trying to stay ahead of Lilah, trying to keep Darla and Dru from killing me, trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Angel, and when I wasn't looking, it had all gotten dangerous. And way too complicated.
But I had to offer up some kind of explanation, because staying quiet wouldn't get me anything but dead. Whatever I said, I had to play this right, walk the line between believability and self-preservation.
"Angel's always been vulnerable to his lovers. The story of the Slayer and her poor doomed vampire is practically a legend. And that's why we brought Darla back, right? We know it's the best way to manipulate him." I took a breath. The air in the room tasted stale. "But Darla failed. Too weak as a human, and too much ugly history between them as a vampire."
"So you decided to take her place? Whores usually have more training, Lindsey. Or fewer options."
A hit solidly below the belt. I sucked in another breath, and this one came harder. "Are you complaining? I didn't realize there was a morals clause in my employment contract. And I definitely didn't think you'd care what I did to bring him to our side. As long as it worked."
"And has it?"
"Not yet. I need more time." Time to figure out exactly what had happened in that elevator.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea." As he leaned forward, placing his folded hands on the desk, he put on the expression I recognized as "fatherly". Holland had done it much better. It'd helped that Holland had never looked like he was two steps from the grave.
"We're worried about you, Lindsey."
"There's no reason to be worried," I replied.
"Oh, I think there is. You've never really had any sense of perspective where Angel's concerned, and an intimate relationship can only complicate matters. That's true in the best of circumstances, and these are hardly the best circumstances."
"I can do this," I insisted. "I'm still co-vice president of Special Projects. That makes Angel a top priority."
Nathan let out a small sigh. "Yes. Co-vice president. And I think, perhaps, that it's best if you leave Angel to Lilah."
I hadn't expected that. I frowned, confusedly trying to follow Nathan's thought processes. "Lilah? Lilah's never had any success at handling Angel."
"She'll learn," said Nathan. "For her own good, and for yours."
I honestly couldn't believe what I was hearing. They actually expected Lilah to deal with Angel? "You're kicking me off the project?"
"We're reassigning you, Lindsey. Your division's working on plenty of other assignments, and I'm sure they could use your talents." He flipped open a folder sitting on his desk and scanned the contents. "I'd suggest you focus on talent recruitment. We could certainly use more telepaths on staff, especially since the failure of the Bethany project."
I nodded slowly. What else could I do? "All right. Fine. I assume I'll be kept up-to-date on the situation with Angel?"
"Of course," he replied, with an intentionally obvious lie. I'd pushed too hard. They didn't trust me any more. Not where Angel was concerned.
I stood up, ready to head back to my office, but Nathan came out from behind the desk and put a friendly hand on my shoulder.
"Lindsey, before Holland," a tactful pause, "passed on, he was worried about your lack of a healthy and stable social life."
"Does Lilah have a 'healthy and stable social life'?" I didn't care how petty that sounded.
"That's beside the point," he said, but the half-smile on his face told me I'd scored a point. "We're talking about you. Go out more. Live like a young man should. Meet a nice girl. Or even a nice boy, if that's what you need. But Angel is certainly not what you need, is he, Lindsey?"
I shook my head slightly. Dread rose up in my throat as Nathan reached back toward his desk for his Rolodex.
"Perhaps we should put you in touch with our agency. Tall, dark, and…human, I'd say."
"No!" The very last thing I needed was the firm getting involved in my love life. It was twisted enough as it was. "No, you're right. I'll stay away from Angel, if you think it's best."
He patted me on the back one more time. "You know we only have your best interests at heart."
Right. And that report I'd given him was the God's honest truth. "I appreciate that, Nathan."
I made sure to shut the door firmly behind me.
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