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(no subject) [Sep. 12th, 2006|10:24 pm]
New day
giles_th_ripper
[Current Location |London]
[Current Mood |workingworking]

I put down the phone with a sigh. The Headmaster of the Watchers' Academy had been coldly polite, but I received the brunt of his disappointment. The Skilosh were back. Young Watchers in training were sprouting a third eye in the back of their skulls like there was no tomorrow.

I wasn't shocked that the bastards would go back on their word. I was getting respect for them to dare break a contract set up by Wolfram and Hart. I try to stifle the sliver of pleasure at the idea of having a legitimate reason to call Lilah. I ask my assistant to call Ms. Morgan.

Her assistant puts her through. The cool tone reaches me almost perfectly accurate through the electronic medium. It sends the now familiar shiver through me. For the past month, we've been seeing each other at least once a week. That's uncannily often for people with our schedule. Or our chosen sides. I never dared to take things further with her. I know it's stupid, but I feel we're on the path of becoming friends. The way secret agents sometimes do, despite being on opposite sides. Most of the time, I feel I have the sexual attraction under control. Never when we're on the phone. Because I can close my eyes and shudder in silence when her voice caresses me, without seeming weak, or libidinous.

I hone my tone into friendly-business-like casual.

"Hello, Lilah."

We exchange vague pleasantries, but I don't procrastinate.

"That Skilosh problem isn't over. I've got a call from the Academy. They're back."

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Dinner Date [Aug. 31st, 2006|05:54 pm]
New day
giles_th_ripper
[Current Location |The Cinnamon Club, London]
[Current Mood |thoughtfulthoughtful]

If there's one thing I truly missed in California, far more than the melancholic English weather, and my peaceful pre-Buffy existence, that's Indian cuisine. That's why I'm something of a regular at the Cinnamon Club.

 

I postpone ordering, while I wait for Lilah. I have a feeling that she's going to come. Not for me, of course. If she were attracted to me, she'd surely stay away. She is the type to do that, if I'm any judge. She will come, because it's in her interest, in her company's interest to come.

 

I hate to admit it, but I'm afraid. Afraid to play it so close to the edge. I can be tempted. I know that. I'm afraid I shan't even notice sliding into the other side. I know myself enough to know that if I see a sign that she can be saved, I'll try to save her. That would prove to be a greatest weakness than the lust for power that I buried all those years ago.

 

She's beautiful, and I think she's lost the way. I hope I'll have the strength to let go or run away before it's too late.

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(no subject) [Aug. 29th, 2006|04:34 pm]
New day

notquitegood
[Current Location |New Watchers Council Headquarters]
[Current Mood |busybusy]
[Current Music |If I could turn back time - Cher]

It'd taken thirty phone calls,ten favors, and a bottle of pure virgin's blood to finally get the demons to move. The Partners were highly impressed,and I was the talk of the office.


Now all that was left to do was pay Mr. Giles a visit. I grabbed all the necessary signed paperwork, and my ourse before heading out of the office. I got in my car and drove to the Watchers Counicl's new headqaurters.


A few ripples of ungoldly traffic later, I'd arrived. I parked my car at the gates,grabbed my purse and the packet holding the paperwork. I then walked inside, I stopped at the front desk,in their lavish looking lobby.


I shook my head as I looked around. 'They always did like to be showy' I thought as I looked at the young girl at the desk. I smiled my case winning smile. "Hello I'm here to see Mr. Rupert Giles. I have something for him"

((Open to Giles))
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Trying to hide [Aug. 27th, 2006|07:37 pm]
New day

notquitegood
[Current Location |Wolfram and Hart London offices Lilah's office]
[Current Mood |aggravatedaggravated]

I'd spent the last week throwing myself into my work. The little free time I did allow myself,was spent in my apartment with my orange tabby and a bottle of the best red wine money could buy.


In the course of the week I'd finished off about four cases, and made three phone calls to Wes. I'd chickened out and hung up everytime. I just couldn't go through with it. I did however manage to find the time to return my mother's twenty phone calls.


She was doing alright according to the nurses. She wants me to come visit her. I told her I couldn't, because work was crazy and I wasn't living in Los Angeles anymore.


I decided to leave Rupert Giles the hell alone for a while. I had enough to worry about, with out adding more trouble to my life.


I was in my office finishing up my report for my last four cases. My assistant buzzed me on the intercom. 'Ms. Morgan there's man here to see you. He claims it's urgent that he speak with you right away.'


I sighed,looks like I'll be looking for a new assistant. Since this one clearly didn't understand the words do not interrupt me for anything. I hit the intercom button on my phone.


"Tell him to make an appointment like everyone else I'm busy" I clicked the button off and went back to typing up my reports.

((Open to Giles))
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2 [Aug. 26th, 2006|10:20 am]
New day
giles_th_ripper
[Current Location |Westbury and London, England]
[Current Mood |aggravatedaggravated]

There's no postponing this any longer. I have to drive to Westbury. The coven there is the only one powerful enough, and experienced enough to comb through my aura for any possible shenanigans. I prefer to think of hexes put on me by the all mighty Wolfram and Hart as shenanigans, rather than deep, dark, disturbing curses.

 

I should also make a phone call to "our man in Los Angeles". I need more on Ms. Lilah Morgan than the dry and sketchy information in her file. The LA branch of the New Watchers' Council is filled with new comers. They're all new comers apart from me, aren't they?

 

Not all. There are always the Wyndham-Pryces. Father and son. Father's a power hungry bastard. Son was a failure as a Watcher and than he shacked up with a vampire, so my confidence in him isn't high. But he'd be in the position to get Lilah's file. I'm sure that a Wolfram and Hart file is a lot more thorough than the sort we have.

 

I can't call Wesley. Maybe I shall if it turns out that she did put a hex on me – which would so conveniently explain my intense attraction to her.

 

I leave the car in front of the old mansion that serves as main residence for the coven. I'm a friendly figure, but I have to display myself clearly, so that they can assess my lack of hostile intentions. One of the witches will take my car into the garage, after a perfunctory inspection no doubt.

 

It takes them fifteen minutes to tell me there is something wrong. It takes them the better part of the weekend to find what the problem is. I'm snarling all the drive back to London. Memory alteration. A magical fucking mind wipe!!

 

I made several calls to my Californian family. In a few well crafted questions, I ascertain that their own memories have been altered.

 

The witches gave me the name of the only warlock in the whole of America powerful enough to do such a thorough job. Cyvus Vail. Bastard demon is listed in the Forbes Five Hundred! I'm seething. Someone's fucked with my mind! I'm determined to use every resource at my disposal to get to the bottom of this. Bloody Americans with their bloody cover ups!

 

For the next few weeks, I tap every contact I've ever had, collect on every favor I've ever been owed. Nothing! Not a damn thing surfaces.

 

If subtlety doesn't work, then I'll apply pressure. As careful as I was to make sure I didn't stir the waters in my frantic investigations, I'm that loud now. I make sure step on every toe. I even called up Buffy and Willow and told them that someone's messed with all our minds. I worry that I may have put them in danger, but it's nothing they're not used to.

 

In a matter of days since I tagged my girls, I start seeing results. The Council headquarters are breached. I find a note on my desk.

 

"Don’t."

 

I feel a manic grin on my face. Don't? Really? How very scary.

 

There's one connection I didn't use. I grab my leather jacket and head for 'the pub'. I bet she's there.

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Fresh start [Aug. 24th, 2006|12:15 pm]
New day

notquitegood
[Current Location |Local Pub]
[Current Mood |contemplativecontemplative]

It's been four months since I left everything I've ever known. I knew that Wesley was right, I needed to get out of the mess that was Los Angeles. So I made it out of the sewers and packed up everything I had, got patched up and booked the first flight out of town.


I managed to get a job in my old Department in the Firm's London branch. So I've got my life back, all my pretty things, A Wonderful new apartment, all the things I could ever want. There's just one problem I don't have 'him' anymore, maybe I never did. I sighed as I looked out of my office window for the third time today, watching the sun set. I finished my scotch and went to collect my things. My shift's been over for a good three hours now.


I got in my car with every intention of just going home, when I decided that I didn't want to go home to an empty apartment, so I drove down to the local pub. I parked my car, then walked into the smoky little pub. I scanned the room quickly as I made my way to the bar. I ignored the stares from all the men, as I sat down at the bar. I looked at the bartender, with a small smile. "Scotch neat lots of it" He just nodded and walked off to get it. I looked around the place. I just wanted one night to just get drunk and maybe forget about the life I left back in LA, or more specifically the man who broke my heart.

The bartender came back over with my drink, and I smiled at him. I sat sipping my drink and tried to think of something other than Wesley.


((Open to Giles))
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