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lonelybritI'm not here, I'm actually in bed because I should be as I have to get up early tomorrow. Oh yes. *cough*
Anyway, this drabble popped up from somewhere. It's unbeta-ed, and like its predecessor has no real reason behind it. I think it tried to go serious though, which is scary. Ah well.
It drives Angel insane, of course. And despite what Spike says, it’s not jealousy. No, of course not. It’s just… he doesn’t trust Knox. He can’t put his finger on why; the guy passed Lorne’s test with flying colours; he supplied the crucial scientific breakthrough in many a case; he is clearly genuinely fond of Fred; and despite what both men say, whatever the ‘thing’ is between Wes and Knox, it isn’t not serious. But still. Something doesn’t sit quite right.
That morning meeting, Knox arrives before the others. He smells of soap and Wesley and when he talks he breathes the faint scent of tea rather than the more normal coffee.
“Morning!” he says.
Angel gives a silent, curt nod in reply, then returns to studiously browsing through the folder of background papers. After a few seconds it dawns on him that he is, for once, being left in peace rather than made to endure Knox’s cheerful chitchat. He raises his head to see Knox also engrossed in his papers. The man leans against the window frame. The cold morning light washes colour away, leaving Knox looking pale and unusually serious.
Another second, and Angel realises Knox is watching something down in the street below. He crosses over but all he can see is the usual lorry of deliveries; a tiny spot of colour surrounded by even tinier spots of men moving in silent busyness; boxes, folders and larger containers being efficiently carted out of sight.
“They look so small from up here,” Knox observes with a brittle smile. His eyes are clear and made icy blue in this light. They level a penetrating stare at Angel. “Kind of like ants, all we need now is the magnifying glass and a little bit of sun.”
Angel’s expression doesn’t change and Knox shifts his attention back to the folder in his hands.
“I know about you and Wes.” Angel isn’t too sure where that came from, but he doesn’t regret saying it. It’s both a simple statement and a promised threat.
“Yeah, I thought you might. Heightened senses and all that.”
They are still alone in the boardroom. Outside the quiet murmur of the office is starting up, but as of yet no-one is approaching this door.
“I was talking to him last night,” Knox continues, and now something flickers in his eyes, something flashing across his face and tightening the corners of his mouth. “Look, we’re both adults, we know about work coming first when within these four walls. Leave it at that.”
“I just wanted to say it’s fine, well, for the moment anyway.”
“Ah, this the part where you tell me to treat him well or else?” The old spark is back, Knox quirking a defiant smile at Angel, eyes bright and watchful.
“Something like that.”
“Not a problem,” and Knox gives a dismissive shrug. He glances down at the topmost paper in his hand and frowns. He turns the paper over, continuing to frown in concentration as he reads. “I could also tell you that it’s none of your business, but since I’m not that petty I won’t. How’s that for a deal.”
Angel knows that the prickling down his spine means something is still wrong. Something still unsaid.
“You were in love with a Slayer once, weren’t you?”
The question is so unexpected that Angel is too stunned to be angry or hurt.
“That must have been something,” Knox continues, still apparently engrossed in the papers. “Loving something most of your kind would condemn you for.”
“You know, just because we don’t literally fire people any more-”
“Yet another case in point of love not being everything,” Knox says, snapping the folder shut with rather savage satisfaction. He returns that odd stare to Angel, sending chills skittering under Angel’s skin. The sun is continuing to rise outside, but the rosy tint somehow seems to miss Knox, he still stands with pale skin and too sharp eyes. “But she understands, right? I mean, it can’t be that uncommon really. You promise to love and be loyal to the end of time… but you can’t always do that, you know? Life’s tricky. Catches you off-guard. Sacrifices have to be made.”
The flippant tone sends alarm bells clanging in Angel’s head. This isn’t right. He knows damn well that Knox is not still talking about Buffy. And he thinks he knows who the person in question might be, because he can imagine making such a promise so very easily when those blue eyes smile up at you as that warm body helplessly arches under yours…
Knox nods and suddenly the label ‘mad scientist’ isn’t so funny any more. His face is too clear, too peaceful. “You have to have negotiable morals anyway, working in a place like this. Well, hey, you’ll learn that soon enough.” He spares Angel another grin that might pass for charming if it wasn’t for the cold, hard eyes. “If things are meant to be, they’ll happen, with or without your help. I can live with that.”
The door opening and Gunn striding in with a cheery ‘Good morning, Wolfram and Hart!’ prevents Angel from answering, and as the day wears on he only catches glimpses of Knox from a distance. Whenever he remembers the meeting, his stomach turns and he makes the decision to have a serious talk with Wesley about this. As soon as he has the free time. He will. A serious talk. Sooner rather than later.
*~*~*~*
Wesley entered the lab to find Knox in discussion with a delivery man. Fred passed him on his way in.
“Hey, Wes,” she chirruped, “thought of a better excuse this time?”
“Um, I need the latest figures on the efficiency of our new pocket laser?”
Fred tilted her head on one side with a considering frown. “Better,” she admitted, “if it wasn’t for that project being finished and passed on two days ago.” She grinned and gave him a gentle push. “Just go in and say you’re checking he’s free for lunch. I think he’s nearly finished anyway.”
Wesley approached the pair just as Knox signed the bottom of some pink form.
“Just send it here, we’ll pay for any costs incurred.”
The delivery man looked less than pleased, but also like he knew better than to argue. The form was clipped onto a clipboard and then the green-suited worker began the unenviable task of trying to remove the item under discussion from the lab.
“Hey there!” Knox beamed when he turned to see Wes standing watching him. “You ready for lunch?”
“What’s this?” Wesley indicated the curious item occupying a good amount of floorspace. It was still covered in plastic and on a wheeled trolley. Through the cloudy wrappings, Wesley could make out the rough texture of sandstone and the glints of crystals. The whole shape had a distinctly sarcophagus-like quality. A large label was stuck on the end nearest him and he bent to read to label at the same time as the delivery man began wheeling the item back towards the main goods lift.
“Wrong address,” said Knox firmly, taking Wesley’s arm.
“Wait,” Wesley began, starting after the departing package. “That was my name, it’s for me.”
“No, it’s not,” Knox repeated, not loosening his grip. “There was a muddle at the sorters. Similar surnames, that’s all.” He pulled Wesley none to gently back to his side. “It’s not for you, promise.”
They watched it vanish through the swing doors.
“Well, someone’s going to have fun explaining that cock-up,” Wesley said with dry amusement.
Knox shrugged. “Who cares. It’s going back to sunny England, some place in the Cotswolds. Least the sender had the brains to put down a return address, even if they couldn’t pick a courier who could actually read.” He turned abruptly to Wes, smiling broadly. “So, what are we doing about lunch?”
Wesley easily forgot about the mysterious arrival as he claimed one quick, deep kiss from those quirking lips. “No idea,” he said innocently. “How about getting out of the office?”
For moment Knox hesitated, for some reason glancing over his shoulder at the still swinging doors. Then he gave a short laugh. “If we get caught, I’m blaming you,” he said with mock sterness.
“Don’t worry, I’ll say we were researching a matter of great importance.”
Knox’s smile softened. “Oh yes, that we are,” he agreed quietly.
Anyway, this drabble popped up from somewhere. It's unbeta-ed, and like its predecessor has no real reason behind it. I think it tried to go serious though, which is scary. Ah well.
It drives Angel insane, of course. And despite what Spike says, it’s not jealousy. No, of course not. It’s just… he doesn’t trust Knox. He can’t put his finger on why; the guy passed Lorne’s test with flying colours; he supplied the crucial scientific breakthrough in many a case; he is clearly genuinely fond of Fred; and despite what both men say, whatever the ‘thing’ is between Wes and Knox, it isn’t not serious. But still. Something doesn’t sit quite right.
That morning meeting, Knox arrives before the others. He smells of soap and Wesley and when he talks he breathes the faint scent of tea rather than the more normal coffee.
“Morning!” he says.
Angel gives a silent, curt nod in reply, then returns to studiously browsing through the folder of background papers. After a few seconds it dawns on him that he is, for once, being left in peace rather than made to endure Knox’s cheerful chitchat. He raises his head to see Knox also engrossed in his papers. The man leans against the window frame. The cold morning light washes colour away, leaving Knox looking pale and unusually serious.
Another second, and Angel realises Knox is watching something down in the street below. He crosses over but all he can see is the usual lorry of deliveries; a tiny spot of colour surrounded by even tinier spots of men moving in silent busyness; boxes, folders and larger containers being efficiently carted out of sight.
“They look so small from up here,” Knox observes with a brittle smile. His eyes are clear and made icy blue in this light. They level a penetrating stare at Angel. “Kind of like ants, all we need now is the magnifying glass and a little bit of sun.”
Angel’s expression doesn’t change and Knox shifts his attention back to the folder in his hands.
“I know about you and Wes.” Angel isn’t too sure where that came from, but he doesn’t regret saying it. It’s both a simple statement and a promised threat.
“Yeah, I thought you might. Heightened senses and all that.”
They are still alone in the boardroom. Outside the quiet murmur of the office is starting up, but as of yet no-one is approaching this door.
“I was talking to him last night,” Knox continues, and now something flickers in his eyes, something flashing across his face and tightening the corners of his mouth. “Look, we’re both adults, we know about work coming first when within these four walls. Leave it at that.”
“I just wanted to say it’s fine, well, for the moment anyway.”
“Ah, this the part where you tell me to treat him well or else?” The old spark is back, Knox quirking a defiant smile at Angel, eyes bright and watchful.
“Something like that.”
“Not a problem,” and Knox gives a dismissive shrug. He glances down at the topmost paper in his hand and frowns. He turns the paper over, continuing to frown in concentration as he reads. “I could also tell you that it’s none of your business, but since I’m not that petty I won’t. How’s that for a deal.”
Angel knows that the prickling down his spine means something is still wrong. Something still unsaid.
“You were in love with a Slayer once, weren’t you?”
The question is so unexpected that Angel is too stunned to be angry or hurt.
“That must have been something,” Knox continues, still apparently engrossed in the papers. “Loving something most of your kind would condemn you for.”
“You know, just because we don’t literally fire people any more-”
“Yet another case in point of love not being everything,” Knox says, snapping the folder shut with rather savage satisfaction. He returns that odd stare to Angel, sending chills skittering under Angel’s skin. The sun is continuing to rise outside, but the rosy tint somehow seems to miss Knox, he still stands with pale skin and too sharp eyes. “But she understands, right? I mean, it can’t be that uncommon really. You promise to love and be loyal to the end of time… but you can’t always do that, you know? Life’s tricky. Catches you off-guard. Sacrifices have to be made.”
The flippant tone sends alarm bells clanging in Angel’s head. This isn’t right. He knows damn well that Knox is not still talking about Buffy. And he thinks he knows who the person in question might be, because he can imagine making such a promise so very easily when those blue eyes smile up at you as that warm body helplessly arches under yours…
Knox nods and suddenly the label ‘mad scientist’ isn’t so funny any more. His face is too clear, too peaceful. “You have to have negotiable morals anyway, working in a place like this. Well, hey, you’ll learn that soon enough.” He spares Angel another grin that might pass for charming if it wasn’t for the cold, hard eyes. “If things are meant to be, they’ll happen, with or without your help. I can live with that.”
The door opening and Gunn striding in with a cheery ‘Good morning, Wolfram and Hart!’ prevents Angel from answering, and as the day wears on he only catches glimpses of Knox from a distance. Whenever he remembers the meeting, his stomach turns and he makes the decision to have a serious talk with Wesley about this. As soon as he has the free time. He will. A serious talk. Sooner rather than later.
*~*~*~*
Wesley entered the lab to find Knox in discussion with a delivery man. Fred passed him on his way in.
“Hey, Wes,” she chirruped, “thought of a better excuse this time?”
“Um, I need the latest figures on the efficiency of our new pocket laser?”
Fred tilted her head on one side with a considering frown. “Better,” she admitted, “if it wasn’t for that project being finished and passed on two days ago.” She grinned and gave him a gentle push. “Just go in and say you’re checking he’s free for lunch. I think he’s nearly finished anyway.”
Wesley approached the pair just as Knox signed the bottom of some pink form.
“Just send it here, we’ll pay for any costs incurred.”
The delivery man looked less than pleased, but also like he knew better than to argue. The form was clipped onto a clipboard and then the green-suited worker began the unenviable task of trying to remove the item under discussion from the lab.
“Hey there!” Knox beamed when he turned to see Wes standing watching him. “You ready for lunch?”
“What’s this?” Wesley indicated the curious item occupying a good amount of floorspace. It was still covered in plastic and on a wheeled trolley. Through the cloudy wrappings, Wesley could make out the rough texture of sandstone and the glints of crystals. The whole shape had a distinctly sarcophagus-like quality. A large label was stuck on the end nearest him and he bent to read to label at the same time as the delivery man began wheeling the item back towards the main goods lift.
“Wrong address,” said Knox firmly, taking Wesley’s arm.
“Wait,” Wesley began, starting after the departing package. “That was my name, it’s for me.”
“No, it’s not,” Knox repeated, not loosening his grip. “There was a muddle at the sorters. Similar surnames, that’s all.” He pulled Wesley none to gently back to his side. “It’s not for you, promise.”
They watched it vanish through the swing doors.
“Well, someone’s going to have fun explaining that cock-up,” Wesley said with dry amusement.
Knox shrugged. “Who cares. It’s going back to sunny England, some place in the Cotswolds. Least the sender had the brains to put down a return address, even if they couldn’t pick a courier who could actually read.” He turned abruptly to Wes, smiling broadly. “So, what are we doing about lunch?”
Wesley easily forgot about the mysterious arrival as he claimed one quick, deep kiss from those quirking lips. “No idea,” he said innocently. “How about getting out of the office?”
For moment Knox hesitated, for some reason glancing over his shoulder at the still swinging doors. Then he gave a short laugh. “If we get caught, I’m blaming you,” he said with mock sterness.
“Don’t worry, I’ll say we were researching a matter of great importance.”
Knox’s smile softened. “Oh yes, that we are,” he agreed quietly.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-19 07:23 pm (UTC)That's just chilling. ::is scared::
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Date: 2004-11-21 07:16 am (UTC)