More Nano novel

[hobgoblinn]

23,507 / 50,000
(47.0%)

and 2291 words on the day, so far. Anybody got a time turner I could borrow?

Huh. For some reason, the nano widget says I'm only down 82 words at this point. I think the programmer who did that one was smoking crack. He or she would have a bright future in one of our software vendors' shops. But let's not go there. Still have a day left on the Thanksgiving weekend holiday.

Here's more of the novel. I'm trying to post it mostly at this point to have a backup of it somewhere. I had an unfortunate incident yesterday involving my typing ability and some 700 words suddenly not being there, and it's made me paranoid (even though I lucked out this time and got them back. But it made me think of all kinds of other possibilities, and ....)

Comments and criticisms welcomed, as always.






The day passed in a blur of activity. Giles spent most of it in his office, receiving phone calls and reports from the various teams he had out in the field investigating the strange incidents Lillian had described, trying to get all the other work done he would normally have been taking care of, had today been anything like a normal day. He found he very much missed Andrew’s assistance, though Willow stayed close to him for most of it and did her best to make up for Andrew’s absence.




Towards the end of the day, Andrew himself called. “Hey, Mr. Giles. I think we’re about ready to move these folks in to their home away from home.”




“Good. Very, good, in fact. Where did you end up finding a place for them?”




“Well, there were all those vacant offices and labs in the sub-basement-- I found a couple of rooms down near lab Two that were perfect. Once we got, you know, some furniture, some cheery paintings for the walls, a few throw pillows.... Not so much with the natural light, but....”




“Andrew, you’ve been watching Queer Eye for the Straight Guy again, haven’t you?” Giles tried to sound stern, but there was a lightness, a relief in his breast that kept welling up when he least expected it. Willow could feel it as she came to stand in his doorway, listening with a broad grin.




“Yeah, well, anyway, enough of that,” Andrew replied, sounding a little embarrassed. “Moving on. They’re about ready to settle in, and I just thought, you might want to come down?”




Giles said, “Yes, thank you, Andrew. We’ll be down in a moment.” He replaced the handset, no longer smiling. Looking more than a little terrified.




Willow came over and gave him a hand up. “It’ll be fine, Giles,” she said reassuringly.




He nodded. “Yes, of course.” He grinned a little tightly. “It’s just-- I don’t have any idea what to say. To either of them.”




Willow smiled in sympathy. “Yeah. I get that. Just... be Giles.” He looked up into her eyes, and she caught the flicker of memory, of a time when she had worried so much about whether or not she could still be Willow, after everything. She believed in him now, just as he had believed in her then. He squeezed her hand a little more tightly for a second, then released it.




“Let’s go see how they’re um, settling in.”




“Do you think Andrew has their napkins folded into decorative oragami animals yet [or some other Martha Stewart like thing I can't think of just now]?” she asked as she switched off the office light behind them.




“Probably.”




*****




The entry corridor to the mansion was impressive, in a dark, dank sort of way. As the man followed a demon butler through the maze of corridors, he wondered what it was about demons, that they preferred the dark? Bloody pretentious is what it was, the man thought. But a job was a job, and the man-- demon-- he’d come here to meet was reputed to be a major player in the transdimensional transportation industry. Not to mention the de facto ruler of the demon underworld from Wales to the Carpathian Mountains.




They emerged into an audience chamber lit by dozens of torches and two roaring fires in the humongous fireplaces at either end of the room. It once might have been a formal ballroom, the man thought, though now it looked like nothing so much as the old mead hall of Heorot, complete with a rather large fellow at one end, seated on a raised dais, who bore an uncanny resemblance to the Grendel of legend. The man schooled his expression into one of impassive disdain.




The demon frowned dubiously as the man approached the throne and stopped, well outside the reach of the black clawed hands. The man was surprised when the thing began to speak in a soft, surprisingly articulate voice. “I understand you are quite the sorcerer, Sir.”




The man shrugged. “I have enough power to suit my simple needs,” he replied with false modesty.




“Indeed. Perhaps you will have enough to suit mine, as well. You see, I have a certain delicate situation. There’s a certain girl I... want.”




The man gave an oily grin. “A demon of your obvious charms should not have any difficulty with that.”




The demon grinned himself, revealing row upon row of razor sharp teeth, like a pirana’s. The man’s grin faded ever so slightly. “Under ordinary circumstances, that would be true, Mage. But this girl is somewhat... younger. And she has a Destiny.”




Destiny. Possibly the man’s least favorite word/ concept. One of the many reasons he’d chosen the life he had, and worshiped the god he did.




He pursed his lips. “Younger, eh? And what would you be wanting with a little girl?” Pedophiles were also low on his list of favorite things.




“Nothing so crass as what you’re imagining,” the demon replied, amused. “No, this girl’s destiny is such that it might cause me some... inconvenience. I’m a business-demon, you know. I’ve gotten where I am today by anticipating such difficulties, and overcoming them.”




The man nodded. “I see. So I’ll be killing the little chit then, will I?” Oddly, murder didn’t bother him nearly so much. But, “I’m not sure why you would need me for that. And, to be honest, it doesn’t sound terribly... fun.”




“Ah yes. I had heard you take assignments more for their entertainment value, these days. But no, I don’t want the dear child harmed. Quite the contrary. I wish to adopt her, lavish gifts and perfectly appropriate affection on her....”




“And keep her under your control, so as to circumvent that bothersome destiny of hers,” the man finished, studying his fingernails in a bored sort of vanity. He glanced up and gave a wolfish grin. “You’re a regular Daddy Warbucks then, are you? But I’m still not seeing the entertainment value here. I hate ‘Tomorrow’.”




The demon chuckled appreciatively. “A man after my own heart,” he growled, still grinning in an unsettling way. “Here’s the bit that might interest you. She seems to have either powerful magical protection from an unknown source, or extraordinary good luck. Two attempts to... um, invite her here have failed. And now, she and her mother have gone and put themselves under the protection of the Watchers Council.”




The man’s eyes showed a flicker of interest then, quickly hidden. “Well, that is interesting.”




“I understand, in fact,” the demon pressed his advantage, “that none other than the great Rupert Giles himself has taken a personal interest in their welfare.”




The man blinked. His eyes narrowed. This demon was either not as jovially stupid as he looked, or else he was remarkably well informed. He said casually, “Has he indeed? What has that to do with me?”




The demon grinned, knowing the hook was well and truly set. “I think you know exactly what it means to you, Mr. Rayne. I want this girl, and I want her fast. All my resources will be at your disposal.” The demon pulled a cigar from the box on the table beside him and a minion standing nearby rushed forward to light it. He puffed reflectively, then said, “All I ask is that you do something-- artistic.”




****




When Willow and Giles got downstairs to the chambers Andrew had prepared, they heard Lillian saying, “No, realy, this is fine, Mr. Wells. Please, don’t put yourself to any more trouble on our account....”




Giles poked his head through the open doorway. “Is there a problem?” he asked, mildly.




Lillian looked up with equal measures surprise and relief. “Rupert. Hi. Come in.”




Andrew cleared his throat disapprovingly. “Um, remember our little talk about that, Ms. B?”




“Oh. Sorry,” she grinned, a little embarrassed. “Hard to get used to, all these new safety rules.”




“Yeah, well,” Andrew said, looking around and exaggerating his failure to notice the giggling little girl hiding behind the arm of the couch, “We have to remember to set a good example for... now where is that kid?” he asked loudly. The giggling by the couch grew louder. This was a game they’d apparently been playing for some time now. Willow had a sudden urge to kiss Andrew, it was so adorable.




Giles’ warm smile indicated a similar reaction, though maybe without the kissing part. Willow was rescued from a scary visual place just then by Ellen, who came bounding up out of her hiding place with a loud “Boo!” Andrew feigned surprise and she caught him in a quick hug.




Giles was still smiling, but his eyes had grown a little wistful. “Excuse me, Ellen. I wonder if I might have a quick word with your Mum for a few minutes Would that be all right?”




She shrugged. “Sure.” She seemed a little shy around him, though maybe that was just his own discomfort and shyness being reflected back at him.




“Hey,” Willow said. “Ellen. Why don’t you and Andrew show me what you’ve done with the place? It looks amazing.” She turned to Andrew. “I can’t believe you did all this in less than a day.”




They went off to the smaller bedroom to begin the tour, all three of them bantering easily with each other. Lillian smiled after them fondly. “Your assistants are lovely people,” she said.




“Willow’s not... I mean, yes, they are.”




“Is she your girlfriend?” Lillian asked curiously, and without more than a hint of jealousy.




“What? Oh, no, nothing like that. We have been friends for a long time, though. She is... my Slayer’s best friend. And, I suppose, mine as well.” He said it as if just figuring that part out, as if their relationship was so established that he hadn’t really thought to wonder what exactly it was.




He ducked his head, studying the dark slate tiles on the floor, where they were exposed around the edges of the room, where the decorative throw rugs did not quite reach to the walls. Then he reached out his hand. “Take a walk with me?” he asked.




She stepped forward and took it hesitantly. They stepped out into the wide corridor, the glare of the florescent lights reflecting off his glasses. They walked for a while in silence.




Lillian said, finally, “Thank you for all this, Rupert. I know it must be....” She puffed out a chuckle. “Okay, I don’t have any idea at all, but.....” He ducked his head and gave a faint, shy smile. She squeezed his hand a little more tightly for a moment, then, “Just... thanks.”




Giles pulled her to a stop at the end of the corridor and looked at her hand in his, struggling to broach on of the subjects which had been on his mind all day. “Lillian,” he began carefully, “I want you to know that this...” he indicated the building around them, the rooms back down the way the had come, “doesn’t mean... that is, I....”




“I know, Rupert,” she said gently. “You don’t expect anything here. Neither do I. We can’t go back to what we had nine years ago. We’ve both changed a great deal.”




“Yes,” he agreed, a little relieved to have that out in the open. But there was something else. He drew a deep breath.




“I also know that what you choose to tell your daughter is-- well, that I have no right to....” He trailed off helplessly. She didn’t help him out this time, just waited for him to find the words in his own time and way.




He finally said, “If you do choose to tell her who I am, all I ask is that you wait a few days. It has been eight years already-- a few more days will make no difference. Let me see if I can get this current situation under control, and then, if you want....”




“I do want her to know, Rupert. I may have been angry with you, but I was never sorry, or ashamed that you were her father. When I think she’s ready, I’d like us to tell her. Together. “ A look of relief washed over his features and he smiled at her.




“In the meantime,” she said, “why don’t you come have dinner with us tonight? Spend a little time getting to know her? She’s a great kid, Rupert. More like you sometimes than I even like to think about.”




Rupert gave a grin of pure mischief at the tone in which the last pronouncement was made. “How so?” he asked innocently.




“Well, for one thing, she’s incredibly stubborn...” They began walking back together, still clasping hands easily, comfortably.




“She reminds me a little of Dawn at that age,” he observed. Off her puzzled look, he explained, “Oh. My Slayer’s little sister. She was about nine when we met. She’ll... in fact, they’ll both be in London soon. For the holidays.”




He trailed off then, suddenly uncomfortable again, remembering the other thing they needed to discuss. He decided it really should wait for the whole group, and for him to have a little more information about how something so impossible as for a Watcher to have a Slayer for a daughter could have happened. And honestly, he wanted to just bask in the old friendship, or whatever this was, for a bit. He knew she’d soon hate him again soon enough. Because the Monsters were about to invade her life in a whole new way. Unless he found a way to stop it.




She caught his mood shift, but didn’t want to pry too closely into its cause. “Um, I’d love to meet them,” she said as they reached her own door again.




Giles blinked, a little confused. “Oh, yes. I’d like that, too,” he said.