Series: The Summons Series
Author: Morgan R.
Email: [email protected]
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Oh, you know I want it.
Spoilers: Not a one.
Author's Note: Again, with the long wait. Don't hate me. Or, hate me, but read it anyway.
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"You ready?" Angel asked, his eyes shadowed in the interior of the closed carriage.
"I guess so. There's just one thing," Willow replied.
"What?"
His question was answered as she kissed him fleetingly, holding his hand tightly in her own. "Here goes," she whispered into his cheek. "Let's get ugly."
When the carriage door opened, Angel and his wife were sitting as far away from one another as the plush seat would allow. His face was a mask of boredom, while her eyes were positively glittering with unpleasant anticipation.
"After you, darling." He motioned with his hand for her to exit, turning the endearment into an insult with his own brand of flair.
"Just like always," she threw back, her mouth twisting in what some might have called a smile.
The servant who had opened the door looked between them nervously, but offered his hand to help Willow down. "My lady, watch your step, please."
She smiled even wider at that. "I always do."
Angel followed, surveying her with a critical eye as the servant bowed and backed away. "I say, if your business pursuits weren't confined to mining, you should definitely turn shopkeeper. Your ability to display your wares is unparalleled, I'm sure." He gestured at the low neckline of her clinging green gown, his eyes travelling further down to the slit that few women would have the gall to wear.
She grinned, delicately perching her fingers on his outstretched forearm. "And you, dear husband, could be a fashion advisor. You know, your constant perusal of my clothing would make me wonder about your sexual orientation, if it weren't for the trail of doxies parading in and out of your bedroom. Or perhaps you're in deep denial about the whole thing. Could that be it?"
They were mounting the stairs into a large mansion made of the same grey Gevaltium as every other building on the planet. Angel chuckled dryly at her question. "My charming wife, I really think you are the last person to question anyone else about their sexual tastes. You seem to have none, considering the sort of men you are willing to sleep with. Ah, and here is our host, perhaps one of the few men on the planet whose bed you have never visited. Hello, Father."
"Well, that doesn't mean he hasn't visited mine, now does it? Good evening, dear Daddy-in-law." Willow curtsied, causing the view to become even more impressive. Angel's father, a gruff, large man named Burne, harumphed at the sight of his son's wife.
"Willow. Angel. Son, could I have a word with you for a moment? I'm sure you'll excuse us, won't you Willow?"
Releasing Angel's arm, she was immediately surrounded by some of her most loyal admirers and potential clients. "Certainly, Burne. But don't be too hard on him. All things considered, Sugar isn't the stupidest mistress he's ever had."
Angel rolled his eyes, muttering a curse as he followed his father down one of the many grey hallways. Willow paid little attention to her escorts as they ushered her into the main ballroom.
****
The evening was going fairly well, all things considered. The one benefit about being implanted in such an unpleasant personality was that she had no friends to insult, and her uniformly insolent manner was actually part of her success rather than a hindrance in social circles. The blank stare that met so many ingratiating smiles during the party was already beginning to bring about most interesting results. If The Willow had forgotten who you were, then you needed to work harder to please her. The ruder she became, the more her influence grew, and it didn't take long for her to become the focal point of almost every person attending the party.
Angel had returned from his private discussion with his father after about fifteen minutes, but Willow judged it better to keep her distance and make rude remarks about him than to actually be seen speaking with him. She was proven right while listening to the sycophantic ramblings of a man sitting near her. After one of her barbed comments (aimed at Angel's hair, in fact), he laughed. "I say, Dear Willow, we were all rather surprised that the two of you arrived together. We wouldn't want Gevaltiel's brightest star actually falling in love with her husband, now would we? It would be too shocking, really. It's a relief to hear that things have not changed between you two."
"Oh, well, don't you know why we came together? We need to start saving money. You never know when disaster might strike, and two carriages would really be an unnecessary expense."
She enjoyed the appalled silence for a few moments before laughing. "Oh, I'm joking with you. If it were anyone's home but his father's, we wouldn't have bothered, but the old man has expressed an interest in seeing our marriage improve. I think he's senile, personally, and have suggested that Angel have him shipped offplanet. Who needs to keep meddling at that age? But Angel, you know, being as stuffy and old fashioned as he is, won't hear of it. Family ties and all that rot. Still, I thought it could be amusing to arrive together. Wouldn't want you taking it for granted that my husband repulses me, now could I?"
Her companion smiled suggestively, and she suppressed the desire to slap his handsome face. Instead, she smiled brightly and simply walked away, leaving him staring after her.
As she walked across the dance floor in search of anything that wouldn't be as boring as someone begging for political, financial or sexual favors, she suddenly heard a breaking glass followed by a female cry off to her left. She looked over, only to see a richly dressed woman striking a servant.
Hurrying over, Willow heard the end of the woman's tirade as the young girl cowered on the floor. "...worthless trollop! So carrying a glass of wine is too difficult for you, is it? Well then, perhaps domestic service is simply above your capabilities. I suppose you'll find mining more to your liking, then."
"No- no, please," the girl whispered from the floor, her honey blonde hair covering her face.
The woman, dressed in a red material that looked something like velvet, kicked her side viciously. "I don't have to put up with clumsy servants! You are good for nothing but mining, and probably not even that. Fortunately, life in the mines will probably kill you before long."
Willow finally snapped. She knelt down next to the girl, helping her up. "Come on, there you go. Don't cry."
Everyone exchanged incredulous looks which Willow ignored, but she could not miss the infuriated look on the nasty woman's flushed face. "Excuse me, Willow, but what do you think you are doing?"
A furious, neo-socialist tirade was on the tip of Willow's tongue when Angel's silky voice interrupted her: "Yes, dear wife, what DO you think you are doing?"
She turned to look at his face, and the warning look in his otherwise cold eyes snapped her out of her anger and back into her role. She needed some sort of explanation, and quickly, if the whispers spreading through the room were any indication. Fortunately, it was at that moment that she realized she knew who the woman in red was.
Her look of concern melted into a hard mask of triumph, and she laughed. "Well, Angel, surely you know all about my special love for dear Ruby here. For several years I have been looking to do her a good turn, and I think taking her servant off her hands is just the thing. Save her the trouble and expense of transporting the girl out to her mine, and in return I get a slightly clumsy waiting woman who just happens to know certain details about the architecture of Ruby's house."
Ruby was shaking her head vehemently. "No, no! You shall not have her for that!"
Willow looked at her innocently, despite the contradictory messages of her seductive emerald dress. "For what, Ruby? I'm merely assisting you in ridding yourself of a mediocre servant! Surely you cannot take issue with that. I'm helping you! As a...friend."
Her glittering eyes were anything but friendly, but Ruby's companions were melting away without a backward glance. "Can't anyone stop her?! That's my servant!"
Willow smirked. "You just fired her. I don't think I need to remind you, Ruby, that we take human rights very seriously on this planet. I'm a little disappointed that you pay so little heed to this girl's feelings." A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd at that. The Willow's cutting wit was almost as famous as her other accomplishments, not to mention her notorious disdain for the servant class. That her hand was still draped around the trembling girl's shoulders spoke volumes about her rivalry with Ruby, a successful businesswoman and ex-mistress of Angel's.
Angel, in fact, was Ruby's last chance. "Angel, come now. Convince the little woman to leave the girl to me. Willow doesn't want her. Help me!"
Ruby had apparently forgotten the reasons for the end of their relationship, but Angel's blank stare reminded her quickly enough. "Ruby, my marriage with Willow is a business venture. You know that. I may not trust her sense of honor, or even her good taste, but her skill in acquisitions is unparalleled. If she wants to employ the girl, then why should you object?"
Ruby backed away, her hands shaking at her sides. "You can't do this to me. The two of you, out to get me, I won't let you-"
"Oh, dry up, Ruby," Willow cut her off with a wave of her hand. "Lose gracefully. Or at least quietly, for goodness' sake."
Burne stepped up, glowering at his son and his spouse. "Now, Ruby, why don't you come with me. Angel, Willow, thank you for coming. As always."
"What an old thundercloud of a man," Willow laughed after his retreating back. Angel hardly seemed amused at her comment, but he refrained from saying anything.
Turning to the frightened girl at her side, Willow longed to let her in on the joke, to tell her it was all an act. Of course, doing so in the midst of a large crowd was hardly advisable, so she just jerked her head towards the exit. "Come on, doll. It's time for us to leave."
With her new servant and Angel following, Willow swept out of the ballroom. Every eye was on her lithe, green figure as she exited, and for a moment, she felt like a queen again.
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