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tamingthemuseTitle: Lotus in Muddy Water remix
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 544 - Grotesque
Rating: PG
Word Count: 812
Note: Locked to members of Taming the Muse
Note: 1st draft
Wesley had always found the diner … not quite cheerful, more neutral than anything else. They brewed up an adequate cup of tea and left him alone. He really had never required much anything else of them. But this afternoon the lights in the window, the salt and pepper shakers in the form of Santa and Mrs. Claus, even the red bows which, in plastic, were just a tad too bright, seemed almost grotesque. “Are you certain you can’t tell me where to find Bridget <what, I don’t have a last name for her yet?>”
“Sorry, hun, no idea where she might be.”
“But she’s from here. I mean, not from this shop, obviously, but she’s local. Don’t you know here family? Can’t you tell me where I might find them?”
He would have believed her, but he’d seen the waitress flicker a glance at the cook when he’d first asked. “Contrary to popular opinion, not all Americans know each other.”
“I’m not trying to suggest …” Damn it. Bridget had grown up in this town. How could no one know who she was? “Thank you.” Perhaps if he returned to the house, he might find a phone book. Surely her family, as long-term residents, would be listed. But that might take too long. He had to find her now. His Slayer was in grave danger, well he presumed she was in danger. No, she had to be. Mr. Taylor wouldn’t have gotten him out of the way unless something nefarious had been planned.
So, where to find Bridget? There had to be some sort of a library in town. They’d have a phone book, yes? Oh, or the post office. They would naturally have addresses and such. Possibly if he offered, not a bribe exactly, but some sort of renumeration for the information? Surely that would work.
Wesley bolted out of the post office, rather glad he’d avoided a black eye. That was it, he was going to have to return to Mr. Taylor’s and hope he could turn up a phone book even though he’d never recalled seeing one …
“Wesley?”
Ah, speak of the devil. “Bridget, ah, I was just looking for you.” Damn, should he have told her? Perhaps she wasn’t aware …
“I’d heard you’d been asking around town. Is there something wrong?”
She knew. Whatever was going on, she knew. “What have you done with Faith? Don’t lie to me. She’s missing. Mr. Taylor’s missing. I know something’s going on.”
She paled so quickly Wesley wondered if she might faint. “Faith’s missing?”
“You do know something.”
“I … I suspected.”
“Suspected what?” He felt as if he might shake her to get her to talk except they seemed to be drawing a bit of a crowd. “Please, if she’s in danger, I need to know.”
“This way.” She led him to the beach, which was damned cold but he couldn’t complain, not if it got her to speak. “We won’t be overheard here.” <empty out a room someplace just by asking?>
“Where is she? What is he doing to my Slayer? Why has he taken her?” Not that he was surprised. Wesley had always suspected Mr. Taylor was up to something. If the Council had believed him, they wouldn’t be in this mess now.
“You have to understand, I’ve been working for Aidan for years, I started shortly after my husband passed away. … You have to understand, Aidan’s been obsessed ever since he lost his wife.”
Wife? Ah, yes, she’d died, some sort of boating accident. “And what would his wife’s death have to do with my Slayer? Don’t try to mislay me with false leads. I see right through you.”
“She didn’t die.”
Well, alright. The Council would have to be informed. Was she even from one of the Watcher families? Still … “I don’t see what this has to do with my Slayer.”
“Did you never wonder why Aidan has so many books on portals and transformations from human to demon form?”
“Of course I have. It’s been terribly inconvenient, working from his library. I had to have the Boston library shipped up here. What aren’t you saying?”
“Aidan’s wife was turned into a demon. They’d been investigating some reputedly haunted house. There was a portal. Demons came through and took her. Aidan’s been trying to get her back ever since.”
“There is no getting her back,” Wesley said absentmindedly. And then, more sharply, “He can’t expect Faith to help him. If she sees a demon, she’ll kill it.”
“I don’t know what he expects. I’d wondered, when he brought you and Faith to the house, why he wanted you here. And then when he sent Claire off. I knew the anniversary was coming up.”
“What do you mean? You think he’ll hurt Faith?”
“I’ll think he’ll do anything to get his wife back.”
“Where did he take her?”
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 544 - Grotesque
Rating: PG
Word Count: 812
Note: Locked to members of Taming the Muse
Note: 1st draft
Wesley had always found the diner … not quite cheerful, more neutral than anything else. They brewed up an adequate cup of tea and left him alone. He really had never required much anything else of them. But this afternoon the lights in the window, the salt and pepper shakers in the form of Santa and Mrs. Claus, even the red bows which, in plastic, were just a tad too bright, seemed almost grotesque. “Are you certain you can’t tell me where to find Bridget <what, I don’t have a last name for her yet?>”
“Sorry, hun, no idea where she might be.”
“But she’s from here. I mean, not from this shop, obviously, but she’s local. Don’t you know here family? Can’t you tell me where I might find them?”
He would have believed her, but he’d seen the waitress flicker a glance at the cook when he’d first asked. “Contrary to popular opinion, not all Americans know each other.”
“I’m not trying to suggest …” Damn it. Bridget had grown up in this town. How could no one know who she was? “Thank you.” Perhaps if he returned to the house, he might find a phone book. Surely her family, as long-term residents, would be listed. But that might take too long. He had to find her now. His Slayer was in grave danger, well he presumed she was in danger. No, she had to be. Mr. Taylor wouldn’t have gotten him out of the way unless something nefarious had been planned.
So, where to find Bridget? There had to be some sort of a library in town. They’d have a phone book, yes? Oh, or the post office. They would naturally have addresses and such. Possibly if he offered, not a bribe exactly, but some sort of renumeration for the information? Surely that would work.
Wesley bolted out of the post office, rather glad he’d avoided a black eye. That was it, he was going to have to return to Mr. Taylor’s and hope he could turn up a phone book even though he’d never recalled seeing one …
“Wesley?”
Ah, speak of the devil. “Bridget, ah, I was just looking for you.” Damn, should he have told her? Perhaps she wasn’t aware …
“I’d heard you’d been asking around town. Is there something wrong?”
She knew. Whatever was going on, she knew. “What have you done with Faith? Don’t lie to me. She’s missing. Mr. Taylor’s missing. I know something’s going on.”
She paled so quickly Wesley wondered if she might faint. “Faith’s missing?”
“You do know something.”
“I … I suspected.”
“Suspected what?” He felt as if he might shake her to get her to talk except they seemed to be drawing a bit of a crowd. “Please, if she’s in danger, I need to know.”
“This way.” She led him to the beach, which was damned cold but he couldn’t complain, not if it got her to speak. “We won’t be overheard here.” <empty out a room someplace just by asking?>
“Where is she? What is he doing to my Slayer? Why has he taken her?” Not that he was surprised. Wesley had always suspected Mr. Taylor was up to something. If the Council had believed him, they wouldn’t be in this mess now.
“You have to understand, I’ve been working for Aidan for years, I started shortly after my husband passed away. … You have to understand, Aidan’s been obsessed ever since he lost his wife.”
Wife? Ah, yes, she’d died, some sort of boating accident. “And what would his wife’s death have to do with my Slayer? Don’t try to mislay me with false leads. I see right through you.”
“She didn’t die.”
Well, alright. The Council would have to be informed. Was she even from one of the Watcher families? Still … “I don’t see what this has to do with my Slayer.”
“Did you never wonder why Aidan has so many books on portals and transformations from human to demon form?”
“Of course I have. It’s been terribly inconvenient, working from his library. I had to have the Boston library shipped up here. What aren’t you saying?”
“Aidan’s wife was turned into a demon. They’d been investigating some reputedly haunted house. There was a portal. Demons came through and took her. Aidan’s been trying to get her back ever since.”
“There is no getting her back,” Wesley said absentmindedly. And then, more sharply, “He can’t expect Faith to help him. If she sees a demon, she’ll kill it.”
“I don’t know what he expects. I’d wondered, when he brought you and Faith to the house, why he wanted you here. And then when he sent Claire off. I knew the anniversary was coming up.”
“What do you mean? You think he’ll hurt Faith?”
“I’ll think he’ll do anything to get his wife back.”
“Where did he take her?”
