||[Sep. 12th, 2006|10:24 pm]
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.
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."
From her first words my brain snaps to attention. I try to keep my body relaxed and my eyes closed to keep her from noticing my sharp interest. I have to bite my tongue not to say anything when she refers to me as a magic junkie. God damn it they must have files thick as encyclopedias on all the players!
The way she talks about Wesley, though, tells me he's more than a name in a file for her. What had she said about Watchers when I pressed her for answers about the mind wipe? That they need to know everything. What else? That they want what they can't have? That they're not happy with what they do have? What the hell had happened between her and Wesley?
Her tone is full of sadness and maybe even pain when she says she is used to defending him. Bloody hell!
I'm quite shocked, but I know better than showing any signs of it. I could always hide my emotions. With age, I got even better at it.
"Yes, I know how they are. Champions. Righteous. World's in black and white for them."
I wonder if I should inform her that the Wesley Wyndham-Pryce fan club has at least another two members. Both Faith and Willow had been quite vocal in their praises for him. Willow talked about how good he looked, about the physical changes she saw. Faith however... Faith had told me enough to know that Pryce wasn't a wrong choice for her as a Watcher. It had been a very unfortunate timing in pairing them up.
"We all strive for validation," I tell her, my eyes still closed. "The trick is to want it from the right person."
I wonder whose approval had she wanted when she joined Wolfram and Hart.
I can't let go of the Wesley issue. I am certain she loved him, and the revelation chilled me more than any of the things I told myself for the past month.
"Maybe I should call Wesley. We have both bee fired by the Council at some point. Who knows how many things we may have in common?"
My tone got almost sleepy by the end. I'm wide awake and I wish I could see the emotions on her face when I say all this. I think she'd feel safer to know me asleep. She probably realized she said too much. I wonder how deeply does she still care.
I kept my focus on the road as he talked. I tried not to let my mind drift off to thoughts of Wes,as I listened to Rupert. "Yeah some champion Angel turned out to be.. " I muttered bitterly at the thought of everything he'd done, not only to me,but to Wes and his other friends.
"Their view of the world is screwed up. They just refuse to see the shades of gray even though they know that they're there." Thankfully Wes had managed to break free of that, with some help from me.
I glanced over at him,as he said we were all looking for approval. "Yeah I guess so, and finding the right person to want it from isn't as easy as it seems." Hell I should know,so should Wes. He probably knows better than Rupert and myself combined.
Thinking of Wes I can't help, but feel like I some how shattered into a million tiny pieces the day he just gave up and walked away. I still don't really feel like all the pieces are back in place yet. I'm just now finally admiting to myself that he broke my heart that day. And in some ways I feel like my being transfered to the London branch is some sort of punishment.
And I just want it to stop hurting so damn much. I shrugged when he said that he thought perhaps he should call Wes. "Maybe you should,but that's completely up to you. Although you're also assuming he'll even have time to talk to you.." I knew that was a lie. I'd tried calling him a few weeks back,and got him on the phone, only to hang up after he said hello.
Yeah I know I should've said something,but I was too scared. Too much has happened to both of us,I wouldn't even know where to begin, after yelling at him for leaving of course.
It was around now that I realized that I'd said a bit too much, concerning Wes. After glancing over at Giles,who apperaed to be half asleep, I went back to trying to keep my mind on work related topics.
Pryce too busy to talk to me? That would be the day!
She's wrong about Angel, though. I never liked the guy, not just because he's a vampire, but because of what he did to Buffy. That love cost both their souls. His literally. Still, whatever else he is, he is a champion. And he does know more shades of gray than she can imagine. Maybe that's why he is so harsh with the people who fight in his corner. The slide through gray into black is too easy. Even I know it.
Lilah finally falls quiet. I'm a little sorry for her. She seems to have gotten her heart broken. That's not easy for anyone, no matter how evil you are. Or maybe it's even harder for them because love's not altruistic on their side. I'd have what to tell her. I could even manage to comfort her. But she's not one of my girls, is she? It's not my responsibility to make her feel better.
"Yes, well, I'll think about it," I say drowsily. "Are we there yet?" I ask, opening one eye.
I hope it'll make her smile. That is the most annoying thing, childish thing I could say now. I must miss my kids more than I realized. I used to hate taking them to the mall because of the thousand times an hour they asked 'are we there yet'.
She needs some fun in her life. Coming from me, that's downright scary.