The music blared in her new pickup truck, and Willow Rosenberg sighed and ran a hand over her loosely braided red hair. She’s been sitting at this tollbooth for what seemed like an hour, waiting for a stalled-out Pinto to be towed out of the lane. All the other tollbooths were closed at this hour of the morning.
“God damn, is it early,” she said, looking at her watch again. Four A.M.
She’d woken at two-thirty and rolled over to see a very warm, very naked Rupert Giles next to her. She smiled at the thought of the time spent with him. It had been her crowning moment, she decided, the one thing that she’d wanted to do before leaving Sunnydale.
How odd, she thought, that that one thing was getting it on with a man 25 years her senior. And it had been wonderful. He was sweet, gentle, and courteous... until she’d gotten him riled up by biting him on the neck, and then Rupert had, to use an expression she’d heard once from Faith, turned her ass out right.
She giggled. She could keep herself entertained with these flashbacks for at least another half an hour.
Suddenly, the Pinto, an ugly, rusted green thing, was being towed out of the way, and the line started moving again. She looked at her watch. Four fifteen. She was forty-five minutes out of Los Angeles. As she paid her toll, she had a final memory of the look of absolute bliss on his face when they’d both climaxed.
And then, Willow floored it, speeding towards her future.
As she got off the highway half an hour later, she picked up her cellphone and dialed Angel’s number. One ring. Two. Three.
“Hello?”
“Hi Angel!”
“Willow. Isn’t it awfully early yet? It’s Five A.M.” The vampire said groggily.
The redhead frowned. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”
“No, actually, I fell asleep reading. I wanted to be up when you got in.”
“I’ll be outside your back door in ten minutes.” She said. “Come let me in?”
“Oh. Really?” Willow could hear the smile in his voice. “Sunrise isn’t for another hour or so. We could go get some coffee.”
“Sounds good.”
“See you soon.”
“‘Bye, Angel.”
“I ran for doughnuts.” She said as he opened the door. “I kind of figured we should stay in, since there was an accident on the way.”
“You weren’t in it, I hope?” Angel asked, concerned.
“Heavens no. Just got caught in the traffic.”
He picked up one of the bags at her feet and slung it over his shoulder “Good.” Taking the pastry box out of her hand, he moved out of the doorway to allow her to pass by, and she came in as the first rays of the coming dawn lit the sky. He shut the door tightly behind them. “But I don’t really --”
She smiled widely.”Eat doughnuts? I figured. So I brought you a mocha.”
“Mocha? Never had one of those before.”
She stopped walking and stared at him. “You’ve lived in LA for five years and you’ve never had a Mocha?”
“Uh... is that bad?”
She handed him a tall white steaming cup. “That’s insane.”
He led her into the lobby of the old hotel, which was more beautiful than she had imagined when Angel had told her how she could live here so cheaply. They went up three stairs to the elevator and, as they waited, Willow took in her surroundings. The floor was chessboard-tiled marble, and all of the furnishings were upholstered in black velvet to match the heavy draperies over the windows. The front desk and office area wainscoting were in heavy, dark-stained wood, with cherub busts on the corners to match the cornices around the room.
“My god, when did you do this?” She asked.
“Last year.” He smiled. “I hope you like it here, Willow.”
“I think I will. I already like my landlord.”
The elevator door opened, and they got in. Angel pushed 4. “Top floor.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I just started working on the other side of the building, but your apartment was finished last month.” Angel seemed to be very excited about showing her where she would live. “When you asked if I knew any rent-controlled places, I started working on it.”
“You did it for me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She smiled at him and set her bags down, leaning over to pull him into a hug. He returned it, to her surprise, pulling her closer and sniffing at her hair.
He froze, and sniffed again. “Giles?” He whispered.
Willow pulled away abruptly and stared at him. The elevator opened and she backed away from him. “I showered, and you can still smell him?”
“Preternatural senses.” The vampire said wryly. “And he sends away to Canada for that shampoo.”
Willow sighed. “Can’t put one over on you, can I?”
The elevator door opened, revealing yellowed wallpaper with worn red and white flowers. The hallway was small, maybe eight by twelve, with a door on each end. Angel turned right and Willow looked for a split second into the mirror opposite the elevator doors. She started as always when she saw his no-reflection-there; she still found strange the fact that she could see him standing right next to her out of the corner of her eye, and yet not right next to her in the mirror’s reflection. Keys jangled in his hand, soft light from the wall sconces bounced off their surfaces and drew her eyes away, back to his black-clad form. Willow followed him down the hallway, stopping short behind as he unlocked the door to her new home.
“Let’s see what you think.” Angel said, and flicked on the lightswitch.
The apartment was open, pipes and tubes exposed in the ceiling, and painted white when they weren’t copper. The crown molding was warm glossy oak carved in the same cherub pattern as in the lobby. Her countertop and cabinets were the same glossy wood, and old-time copper fixtures shone on the white porcelain sink. The kitchen counter opened into the living room where eight foot windows revealed the eclectic West Hollywood skyline. Built-in cabinets whose doors were a stained -glass mural with pictures of angels in flight, and armies of demons, of kings being crowned and soldiers despoiled, and of young women holding swords filled one wall. Willow wandered around, running her hands on the shabby-chic sofa, the chaise lounge, the driftwood coffee table. “I love it.”
“Good. Cordelia did most of the decorating, but she left the walls bare.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. “If you’d like, I can get Gunn to help you with your things.”
“Where did you get these panels?” She asked, gesturing at the depictions in the glass.
He shrugged. “I found them in the sub-basement. They looked nice in here, so, um, there they are.”
“No historical significance?” Her red hair glinted in the light of the chandelier and she peered at him, wide-eyed.
“Not that Wesley can tell.” He smiled at her and pointed to the three doors side by side opposite the windows. “Go ahead and check out your bedroom and bathroom. I’ll find Gunn and Wes and bring up your stuff.”
“I can help.”
“No. It’s fine. Go ahead, we’ll be up in a few on the frieght elevator.”
“Freight elevator?”
“Middle door. See how it’s wide?” Angel pointed. “Your private entrance.”
“Private entrance?” She gawked. “Where did you get the money to pay for this stuff?”
“Do you remember that big news story on 20/20 about the law firm Wolfram and Hart?” Angel asked, running a hand through his already-mussed hair.
“They were the ones who got broken down for tax evasion, right?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Willow continued, “But in reality, the Initiative went in and tore up the Senior partners, with help from an old acquaintance of one Major Riley Finn. Angel, the vampire with a soul, killed several members of the board, then escaped before he could be apprehended for questioning. His handiwork and the evidence he left in the boss’ desk was enough to put the majority of the staff away for several lifetimes.”
Angel’s mouth hung open for a moment. “That pretty much sums it up.”
“That doesn’t explain the money and renovations.” She said as she wandered to the left door and pulled it open. “This bathroom is huge.”
“I kept the Swiss bank account information from the file of evidence.”
“You stole all their money?”
“Um....yes?” He looked sheepish. “Nobody's perfect. I used some of it to renovate the hotel into sort of a demon halfway house. I donated most of the rest of the money to some homeless shelters around L.A. Some of it, Cordie had me invest. She said something about being 250 years old and not having an investment portfolio. She calls it our consulting fee.”
“Oh. Hence the apartment and job for me.”
Angel nodded and pushed the button on the elevator. Willow moved to join him. “Don’t you want to see the bedroom?” he asked.
Willow nodded and pulled on the hem of her sweater. “I will when I come back to unpack. I’m just excited to see Cordelia.”
The bell dinged and the wooden doors slid open
Willow said, “I can’t believe I can’t wait to see Cordelia. Is she still mad about the Xander thing?”
“It’s hard for her to talk with Gunn’s tongue down her throat.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “You’ll be fine. It’s been years.”
They were silent for a moment as they dropped, and then Angel asked, “So, what’s up with you and Giles?”
Willow smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“That’s why I asked.”
“Not telling.”
“Damn.”