December 12th, 2006
|fikgirl||11:18 pm - Back in the City of Angels|
Where: Angel Investigations/Wolfram & Hart Bldg, LA
Invited:Anyone is welcome (but I think only George is around)
Angel exited the elevator of his private pent house apartment – located at the top of the restored and renovated Wolfram & Hart building – and strolled across the second floor foyer towards the conference room.
"Pig, 98 degrees with just a touch of cow for that added perk." Harmony intercepted him, pressing a mug of warm blood into his hand. "Just the way you like it, Boss."
With a sigh, Angel took the mug and sipped it, then continued on his way.
"Don't I even get a thank you?"
The look the souled vampire tossed back over his shoulder at the vampire receptionist sent her scurrying without another word. Every now and then Harmony needed a reminder that she was lucky to have a job after her betrayal. Fortunately, knowing for absolute certain that she couldn't be trusted made it a lot easier to work with her.
(There's also the added bonus of the three times and you're staked rule,) Angel mused.
He opened the doors to the staff room, looked up and his greeting died on his lips. The room was empty, save Spike who paged through a comic book called "9th Wonders" and dipped a donut into . . . a mug of blood. Considering that Angel didn't consider Spike to be high on the scale of "anybody" – no one really knew what he did around the place, and he only drew a paycheck to keep him safely out of Angel's hair – he considered the room empty.
Turning on his heel, he marched up Harmony's desk. "Harmony, isn't it Thursday?"
"And it's, eleven o' clock?"
"And didn't I specifically call a staff meeting every Thursday at eleven o' clock in the morning?"
Angel stared at Harmony. The annoying blonde vampire stared back.
He sighed heavily. "So, *where* is my staff?"
"Oh, well, there's no meeting this Thursday. You cancelled it."
"I did?" Angel frowned at her. "Why?"
"Because Gunn had to be in court today, Wesley didn't know if he would be back from procuring that rune-stone-statue thing-a-ma-jig and Faith called to say she was like way out of touch and probably wouldn't be back for a while." Harmony rattled off the list of reasons. "And because I knew that you wouldn't remember, I put it in your calendar."
Angel set the mug of blood on the counter to avoid shattering it in his hand. He counted slowly to ten and soothed himself with images of Harmony exploding into dust all around him. When he could speak again, Angel said very clearly, "Harmony. There is nothing in my calendar. It sits on my desk, empty. I don't even know why I have –"
"Not *that* calendar. Geez, Angel." Harmony pointed her pen – with a large, glittery unicorn on the end of it – at the oversized cellular telephone on his belt clip. "On the one on your TREO."
Angel pulled the telephone off and shook at it at her. "Harmony, this is a cell phone!"
"It's a PDA cell phone. We went over this when I ordered one for everyone on staff. You approved the order. But it was Cordelia's idea, but anyway, we had special training. It's a complete desktop right at your fingertips."
Frowning thoughtfully at the phone, Angel tapped it. "This thing?"
"You know, you really need to move into the twenty-first century, Angel. You're like the poster child for anachronism."
"Do you even know what that word means?"
|Date:||January 24th, 2007 03:26 pm (UTC)|| |
City of Angels and Deamons
The little green thing had come to them four days ago, promising them a rich feeding ground, a large herd to cull. It was of no species they had seen before. But it had smelled… of cordite and sulfur.
The queen had found its arrogance annoying, but its words held promise. Earth, it had said. Not accessible by ship, but through a kind of personal wormhole. This was inconvenient, as it prevented navigation so the others could be called. It also made them dependant on the little creature.
So she had sent these six. Dependable scouts all, with what was needed to build a homing beacon if they could find a power source and amplifier.
This world was rich with food. When they had stepped from the little wormhole the stench of overpopulation hit them. One skinny human male had looked at them and laughed.
“Great costumes man. Convention is ten blocks east, isn’t it? Of course, this is LA, no one will much notice if you go wandering away all done up.”
He had tasted wonderful. Some people screamed and ran as he was drained to a husk, others stood and applauded. Until the other scouts grabbed them and took their fill.
Yes, Earth was rich for culling. And the little creature had said that the unpalatable ones, like himself, wanted the planet free and clear, with only a few herds of the human populace for food and entertainment of their own. If it amused the queen to allow this, so be it. Such things were not for the scout to contemplate. No. He needed to lead his team to a power source and a amplifier.
(Welcome the Wraith to LA.)
|Date:||January 24th, 2007 03:36 pm (UTC)|| |
Re: City of Angels and Deamons
Too fun! While SG-1 is over in Atlantis, this happens.
I think that Cordelia is in need of a vision. I'll try to write it up later today seeing how I'm back on my game now :)