ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES

CHAPTER 127 - A MIDSUMMER NIGHTS DREAM

MAY 5, 2009
MONDAY
7:00PM

William sat at the computer doing an assignment online for his computer class when the funny chirp of Dawn's IM sounded, letting him know she had sent him a message.

DSCG: Hi William!

WSW: Hi yourself!

DSCG: What's new and exciting?

WSW: Not much, really. Just doing an assignment for my computer class.

DSCG: I won't keep you long, then.

WSW: Didn't mean it that way. I'm always glad to hear from you.

DSCG: That's sweet of you to say.

WSW: LOL - but I do mean it.

DSCG: Just wanted to remind you and Buffy that the play John gave you tickets for is this next Saturday night, so don't make any other plans.

WSW: Really? I'm glad you reminded me! Which one is it?

DSCG: A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

WSW: Great! Looking forward to it. Thank him again for me, for both of us.

DSCG: I will. :)

WSW: Why don't you guys come and spend the night here afterwards.

DSCG: I'll ask him. If he doesn't have rounds in the morning, we'll probably do that.

WSW: Looking forward to it. Oh, and tell John he's going to see that A Midsummer Night's Dream is the funniest! :)

DSCG: I'll be sure to tell him that. Okay, I'll call you guys Thursday evening.

WSW: Good. Just remember we don't get home from school until almost 11pm.

DSCG: Thought it was around 9.

WSW: It was, but taking a self-defense course after school on Thursday. It starts rather late that evening.

DSCG: Buffy told me you guys about that, but I forgot when it was. Do you like it?

WSW: I do. I didn't so much at first. I felt...uncomfortable with all the throwing about and such, but now I'm as they say, into it.

DSCG: Having fun?

WSW: Yeah, I am. I'm rather better at it than I thought I would be, but that's probably due to the private tutoring I'm getting.

DSCG: Private tutoring? Oh, you mean Buffy, don't you?

WSW: Of course. Don't think she'd let em get tutored by someone else, do you?

DSCG: ROTFLMAO

WSW: Wait, have to look that expression up. Oh, now I see it...ha! Anyway, back to the question of time, if you can call us around 5pm, we'll be home from work then, and before we go to classes. Or Wednesday’s we’re home and on Friday we have an earlier class in self-defense class from 6 - 7. In any case, we'll leave Saturday evening open!

DSCG: I'll catch her sometime. Or have her call me. Either way.

WSW: Will do. Bye for now.

DSCG: Bye almost brother-in-law :)

William smiled at her salutation, reminding him that she considered him as family. He didn't know why, but from the moment he'd met Dawn (again) he had felt a bond with her, just like he did with Elizabeth. She'd told him they'd been close before, and somehow that feeling had carried forward, just like his love for Elizabeth had, despite his not remembering the details.

He heard the front door open and saw Elizabeth coming in with groceries.

"Need some help?" he asked, getting up.

"That would be nice," she said, smiling.

He put on his shoes and went out to the car to get the rest of the bags.

"Dawn IM'd me," he told her as he walked into the kitchen, dropping the bags onto the counter.

He told her what Dawn had said about calling her, and about this coming Saturday night.

"Good thing she reminded you, I totally forgot."

"Me, too. Say, do you know where the tickets are?"

"Uh...not offhand, but I think they're on my dresser somewhere, maybe in the top drawer. I'll look later for them."

An hour later:

"Crap, crap, crap!" Buffy swore from the bedroom."Ca"Can't you find them?" William asked, worried, walking in.

"No!"

"What did you do with them?"

She looked up and gave him a dirty look, "Well, I wouldn't be in here looking for them if I knew that would I? And besides, why was it up to me to do anything with them? They were your present."

"I didn't ask you to do anything with them, you just did," he shot back.

She ignored him and went back to her search.

"Maybe they're with some of the other stuff we got ChriChristmas," he suggested.

She stopped to think about that for a minute, then pulled out a stack of cards that she had shoved into her drawer.

"Ta-da!" she said.

"You found 'em?"

"Yep, you were right! They were inside your Christmas card from John and Dawn," she said, getting up and handing them to him.

"Sorry I yelled at you, luv," he said, looking ashamed.

"You didn't really yell, so much as just accuse me of losing them," she said, grinning, as she put her arms around him. "You're forgiven. Or maybe I'll just make you make it up to me."

He looked down at her and kissed her, "Like this?" he whispered, as he moved down to her neck, making her shiver.

“It’s a start,” she said, pulling him towards the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


OFFICES OF WOLFRAM & HART
MAY 8, 2009
THURSDAY
9:00AM

“Lilah’s here to see you,” Angel’s secretary buzzed him from the outer office.

“Send her in.”

“Hey boss man,” Lilah greeted him.

“Did you do what I asked you to do?”

“Of course, that’s what I came to tell you.”

“And all the employees were made aware of what protocol to use if a ‘person of interest’ is spotted at our Starbucks.”

“Unequivocally. Plus the managers know that if protocol isn’t carried out it’s their heads, literally. That ought to give them plenty of incentive to get their employees to fall in line.”

“Good. Now we wait.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MAY 10, 2009
SATURDAY
7:00PM

“Here they are,” Dawn said, pointing to the fifth row, center seats that were reserved for them.

They had gone to a Mexican restaurant for dinner in Balboa Park and had walked over to The Olde Globe Theatre for this evening’s performance.

“So, you ready old man?” John asked William.

“Are you? Because you’re going to see that A Midsummer Night’s Dream is the funniest of the comedies...”

Buffy and Dawn looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“They’re at it again,” Buffy said.

“Yeah, espousing,” she deadpanned.

Buffy giggled.

Soon after they were seated, the lights went down and a man wearing a period costume came onstage and made some jokes as he announced the beginning of the play.

It was very good. Buffy had never seen it before, but had read through it, in the Complete Works of Shakespeare book she’d bought William. More recently, William had borrowed a book on CD from the library, and they had listened to it as they drove to and from their evening classes.

Back in Sunnydale, Buffy couldn’t have imagined herself being able to understand the language of Shakespeare, let alone be able to follow the story. However, now she found herself glued to the action and, like William, sometimes, silently mouthing the dialogue along with the actors.

She turned to look at him. He looked so in his element, watching with unbridled glee, understanding both the complexity and silliness of it. William turned to give her a big grin and a quick kiss on the cheek, happiness written on his features.

Buffy sometimes had to pinch herself that after so many years of hardness, heartache, and her heart being closed off from happiness, that she was fully enjoying both love and life, in as normal a way as possible. She stole a glance at him again, he was so thoroughly, innocently beautiful in his happiness, that it brought a lump to her throat.

As if sensing her emotion, he reached out and squeezed her hand, and the warmth of it reassured her, that indeed, this was real, more than anything else in this world could be.

After the play was over, William and John took up where they’d left off before.

“Well, the bet’s far from over, William,” John said, “we still have Taming of the Shrew to see next month.”

“And then you’ll agree that I win!” William said.

“We might have to have the girls decide,” John said.

They stopped their discussion, just as they got to the counter of Starbucks. They’d decided on coffee, instead of ice cream, having already had a rich, chocolate dessert after dinner.

They ordered their drinks; an Iced Latte with skim milk for Buffy, Espresso for John, an Iced Mocha for William, and an Iced Vanilla Mocha for Dawn, and took their seats.

Behind the counter, a small bell went off. Shanna, who was one of the counter persons, looked over at Aaron. His lips tightened as he walked over to the buzzing machine, and turned a key.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said. Nervously, he knocked at the door of the small office behind the store. This new manager seemed to have it in for him and the last thing he needed tonight was to be dealing with this shit!

As it was, his job was on the line, just because, due to no fault of his own, he’d been late a couple of times. All Aaron wanted was to be able to make a few bucks over the spring and summer, so that he could pay for his college books the next fall, and take his girl out once in a while, before she dumped him.

"What the hell is it now?" barked Roger, the night manager.

Roger, once a special ops mercenary for Wolfram & Hart, until an unfortunate incident left him with a noticeable limp and partly blind in one eye, hated his new assignment; a downgraded position as a low level manager for a coffee chain!

"There's something you should see," Aaron said, and told him of the alarm. Roger switched over to the Wolfram & Hart screen, which showed him two faces that were listed under 'persons of immediate interest,' along with about a dozen others under the less immediate 'persons of intt' t' heading.

"Which ones?"

"These two," Aaron said, pointed to Buffy and William.

“They alone?”

“No, they’re with two other people.”

Roger clicked the mouse, switching screens to view the inside of the restaurant.
There were only a few tables that had patrons at them.

"Where are they?" Roger said, scanning the faces.

"I...I don't see them!" Aaron mumbled.

“Fuck!”

Roger scrambled out of his chair, knocking it over, in his haste to get to the door.

He hurried out to the counter, "Where are they?" he hissed at Shanna.

"Where are who?"

"The people the alarm buzzed about!"

"Uh...they left. They sat down for a minute, but then just got up and left with their drinks."

"Shit, shit, shit!" Roger swore. "What the fuck is wrong with them? People don't just sit down, then leave in a minute! They either take their drinks to gr thr they stay and drink them!"

"I...I'm sure Wolfram & Hart will understand that you had no chance to intercept them."

"You mean, we didn’t, don’t you?” Roger asked, staring down the younger man.

“Yeah, sure they will," Roger thought, turning away as he was already, mentally making plans to pack his bags as soon as he got home that night. He had a , ol, older, second cousin that had retired to a condominium in Acapulco; maybe he could go there. Or, maybe they would understand, since it wasn't that he had failed, as much as the people had just basically got drinks to go.

No, they wouldn't. He’d been given one last chance, after screwing up the capture and disposal of a rogue band of do-gooders, trying to oust Wolfram & Hart from the nation’s capitol, and this was it. Finally and irrevocably fucked over by a trendy coffeehouse!

Acapulco it is then, he thought, as he walked back into the office.

The phone rang about 20 minutes later, "Hello? Yes, I'm aware it was them...No, I wasn't able to implement the protocol in time, because they left right after they got their drinks...yes, I was notified, but by the time...Yes, I see...yes, I'll see to it. I promise...I'm so sorry...yes, good-bye."

Roger wiped the sweat off of his forehead with his sleeve. He had to get out of here tonight. He let Aaron and Shanna leave a half-hour early and locked the doors after them. Back in his office, he opened up the safe and took out all the day's earnings, plus tonight’s take. It totaled $2319.43.

"That'll do," Roger said, pocketing the money.

Roger left by the rear exit, and briskly walked to his where his car was parked, a half block away. He looked around him, once more, before getting in; so far, so good. Destination: the border and a long drive down to Acapulco.

He crossed the border around 11:00pm and decided to find a cheap motel in Tijuana for the night, before continuing. The roads in Mexico sucked, especially trying to navigate them by night, with barely noticeable markers; haphazardly put wherever the hell the half-assed road crews decided to put them.

That and he was mentally exhausted from the fight or flight response his body had been put through. Well, he certainly didn't have the means or the balls he once had, to fight the likes of Wolfram & Hart, so flight it was.

Roger was lucky, in that he found a not half bad hotel, which actually provided room service. He picked up the phone and ordered a couple of cold ones, and a grilled steak, before taking off his shoes and calling directory assistance. It took all of his patience, more Spanish than he knew, and at least 5 different phone operators and directory assistance workers, to finally locate a number for his cousin in Acapulco.

He dialed the number, hoping he wasn't waking her up.

"Hello? Is this Blanche?"

"Si, who is this?"

"It's me, Roger."

"Roger! How lovely to hear from you! Is anything wrong?"

"No. Yes. Sort of...listen Blanche, I'm in Tijuana, I need to come and...Oh, hold on, room service is at the door."

He put the phone on the bed and walked over to the door, "Come on in," he said, as he opened it.

Roger barely had time to register surprise and shock on his face, as two black robed figures powered their way into his room, scythes drawn. Neither would Roger have had the chance to utter his dismay and horror, as within the first second, his larynx was sliced clean through, the second cut, totally separating his head from his body.

"Roger! Roger! Are you there?" Blanche spoke loudly into the phone.

The only response was the phone being gently replaced on its cradle.

One of the men picked up Roger's head and put it into a heavy, black, plastic bag. As soon as they reached their van, they would put it into the cooler, then take it to the airport for transport back to Wolfram & Hart. The other man gathered up all of Roger's belongings, which weren't many, including the clothes he wore, and took those as well. The body was devoid of any telling tattoos or birthmarks, and so that made their job easier and less messy, not that they would have minded, one way or the other.

They left the headless corpse on the floor of the hotel room.

Two days later, the Tijuana paper would devote about 1" of newsprint to the story on page 37. It wouldn't be picked up by any other press agencies.

Starbucks in Balboa Park would be closed for 'renovations' over the next two weeks.

Surprisingly, Aaron took over Roger’s position, and with it, the promise of a much bigger paycheck. He put school on permanent hold, and dropped his girlfriend for a newer, faster one.

Shanna was transferred to another of Wolfram & Hart’s extensive chains, Baskin- Robbins Ice Cream.

END CHAPTER 127