| Fulfilling |
[21 Dec 2007|01:49pm] |
The Wolfram & Hart building was a monument of glass and steel, a temple of corruption. Oliver smoked his cigarette while standing on the sidewalk, reflecting on the irony that such a place should have a no-smoking policy in the lobby. If anything, the people within ought to light your cigarettes themselves, especially given the prices they charged. Just another service rendered by the local Junior Evil.
They were bugs.
He'd woken up alone, finding that Hannah had disappeared sometime during the night, and strangely he felt okay with that. Her warmth still radiated through the cold spot under his heart, and he was using it as fuel to get him through having to go into that building, where she was. She was a bug too, having become one of Them at some point. Just someone else for him to defy by surviving their betrayal. Never mind. He'd get through it. He always had.
He walked through the lobby, his shoes making hollow sounds on the marble tile. Upstairs to see Virgil, and then outside again. Maybe he'd go to lunch. He had to get through this first, though.
As mundane as it was, the case Jill was working on served as a respite of sorts. The lawyer was unsure of how to proceed in her quest for a promotion of sorts, ever since the Conduit decided to be typical Wolfram & Hart and saddle her with a morally-questionable request in return for what she wanted.
Oh, the Senior Partners would give her control of the Special Projects division, provided she killed a couple people. Which normally, would’ve been fine, but Wolfram & Hart, in its infinite bastarddom, decided the two people it wanted killed were Victoria and Oliver.
The vampire Jill always struggled with feelings for and her ex-boyfriend. Spectacular.
Not that Jill never thought about wanting an ex dead, but to actually do it? That hit a little close to home, particularly as time went by and gave the attorney enough perspective for her to know she might not have completely been in the right as far as he was concerned.
As for Vicky? Well, she was a vampire and Jill was no Slayer. Killing her would be tricky at best.
( How typical )
"Bitch."
Oliver pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at his nose, watching the numbers at the top of the elevator light up and then go dark. She wanted to play rough, did she? Fine. No one could play cold bastard better than he could.
"Oliver?"
Finally, the spellcaster thought, turning to face Virgil as if the lawyer saw him with a nosebleed all the time. "Where the fuck have you been?" he demanded, swiping at another trickle of blood.
"I was at a surprise meeting," the other man answered, indicating an open office down the hall. "Sorry I'm late. What ... happened to you?"
"Nothing. Nothing important." Oliver watched the numbers change from twenty-four to twenty five, letting his anger simmer quietly. "Nothing that can't be fixed with a simple phone call."
She was a bitch, but he was a loose cannon. A wild card. She'd see.
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