I blame the insane personality that shares my brain with the demon for such a categorically bad idea�I�ve asked Gunn to come with me to an auction. I�m not asking for sympathy.I�ve brought all this on myself, but I do wonder if I can plead insanity if worse comes to worse? It started out as a simple enough idea. I wanted to buy something since all my stuff was blown up and I�ve got a huge, vacant hotel to decorate. I wanted nice antiques, because I like nice, old things. That�s not wrong. It�s perfectly acceptable to want to surround yourself with beautiful things. It doesn�t make me a narcissist, I�m not *conceited* I just have good taste-so sue me. We were all standing at the front desk of the hotel, our new head quarters, when I broached the subject�

~~~~~

�I was thinking about going to the auction to look for some furniture.�

�Oh yeah, cause we need even more *old things* around here,� Cordelia drawled while rolling her eyes and dusting off an old box I had found in one of the rooms. I had told her to clean it up because I thought it would look; *right* sitting on the counter-classy.

Gunn was ignoring us, reading some magazine he�d brought with him. His biceps tensed against the cotton material of his black t-shirt and each flex of his muscles caused me to freeze involuntarily and struggle for the capacity for verbalization.

�Um Gunn,� I said with no response from him. I cleared my throat and repeated myself, �Umm, Gunn. Could you go with me in case I have to move something heavy ��

�Angel, they have people who do that�� Wesley interrupted me. I fried him with a look that promised tortures that even Angelus would find distasteful and he stopped mid sentence with a look that screamed 'wounded feelings� but of course he never pursued it.

I turned my attention back to Gunn and continued my train of thought, �There may be some lifting involved and I may need an extra set of arms. I& could pay you.�

Gunn lowered the magazine and regarded me with that distracted and slightly puzzled look that would set my pulses racing if I were still alive. Gunn doesn�t just give his time to anyone, you have to *earn it* and if you don�t, he�ll cut you down in a second. I�ve found that I�ve been trying to work for his attention- asking his opinion, trying to get him talking, anything to get him to notice me. I don�t know if it�s working.

�I want to spend my night stuck around a bunch of rich people, looking at old shit and hiring myself out as your fetch and carry boy?� He doesn�t look impressed.

�I�ll pay you,� I offered again.

�Yeah, I heard that part.�

�You can always stay here and help Wesley and I catalog our client files,� Cordelia said brightly.

I saw the mental shudder go through Gunn and I pulled some cash out of my pocket and counted it. �I�ve got $250.�

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

There�s lot of people milling about at the pre viewing, a lot of competition. I open my program and turn to the pages I�ve already marked.

�I hope you know what you want,� Gunn grouses as he looks discouragingly around. �I can tell I�m gonna have limited patience in the vanilla ocean here, so you better pick quick before I *go off* �

�Okay, okay. How about this, it�s kind of pretty. Lot#3SD5: French gilt bronze regulateur with perpetual calendar and orrery after the model by Passemont Caffleir-Paris.� I point to a delicate piece that would look exquisite in the lobby of the hotel.

�You�re serious?� He questions in amazement. �It looks like some freaky alien robot with a glass head that�s giving birth to God knows what. If you; buy that, � he throws his hands in the air and takes a step back, �I don�t know you.�

Maybe that wasn�t a good choice. �How about this? Lot# 2cca:Italian white marble figure of Egyptian dancing girl by A Sari-Rome.� �Oh see, this is better. You can never have enough naked chicks in your home as far as I�m concerned-$1500! Damn, I know where you can get one downtown for $50.�

I sigh. �I don�t think you�re getting the point Gunn. Let�s go sit down. I want to bid on a desk.� �Whatever. Just pick something out and let�s get the hell out of here.� He brushes past me, heading toward the rows of chairs. Maybe I should just confess and tell him that I asked him here just to be near him? I�m afraid to bring it all out in the open though. What if he doesn�t feel the same way towards me? What if he laughs at me? I couldn�t handle rejection when I was alive and 240 odd years haven�t changed shit in that regard. I have to be cautious. I have to go slow. I have to bide my time. Damn, I�ve always hated dating.Before, I would have just turned him and invoked the old Sire fledgling priviledge.

The auctioneer�s voice sounds loudly throughout the room, �We have lot #2DH7, a Victorian Mahogany pedestal desk with rectangular leather inset top and gilt tooling��

�Oh my God,� I gasp out loud.

�What?� Gunn asks interest aroused.

[That Desk�it used to be mine�]

****

�Angelus.�

I look up from my reading to see William leaning against the doorway. My patience is at a low point this evening. Darla�s been in a snit for the last week and the self-imposed celibacy does not sit well with me. �What do you want boy?� I don�t bother to keep the irritation out of my tone.

�Bored.� He smiles that decadent grin that hints at blood and cum and grunts of exertion forced from teeth clenched in agony and pleasure. William would fuck anything at anytime. That�s one of the things I�ve grown to love about him.

�Where�s Dru,� I ask, not really caring in the least.

He shrugs. �She kidnapped the vicar-acting out the bloody midnight mass for all I know. Miss Edith�s upset. The wind doesn�t *smell* right or some fucking nonsense like that. Can I come in?�

�It�s never stopped you before.�

And still that grin as he crosses the threshold and kicks the door shut behind him with his boot. �Where�s the Bitch Queen tonight.�

�Watch it you little shit, or I�ll rip that smart ass tongue of yours out and feed it to you,� I growl.

�Well, that�s certainly a way to pass the time.� He walks around the massive; mahogany piece of furniture that separates me from the exit and sits down on the rum colored leather surface, facing me.

This room always makes me feel like I�m sitting on a throne, like I�m some monarch surveying my kingdom. But unfortunately, none of my subjects seem to be very obedient lately. I�m getting ignored and mocked at every turn it seems and I may have to put a stop to it -starting tonight.

�What do you want William, run out of money again?� I ask in my most indifferent tone

He stiffens slightly as he balances precariously on the edge of his seat. His eyes flash in anger. It�s not a new sight; his temper flares an average of five times a day-seven on weekends. �Why do you always do that!�

�Do what?� I settle back patronizingly in my chair. �Talk to me like I�m some whore,� he spits out in the exquisite fire of youthful indignation.

�I don�t know Will, why do I do that?� I ask with mock seriousness.

�Because you�re an asshole!� he explodes, jumping off of his perch and heading towards the door.

I�m out of the chair in an instant, pinning him against the desk in front of me. �You didn�t come here to tell me what you think of me did you? That was unnecessary my boy, there�s not a thought in that head of yours that I don�t know about, that I didn�t put there. Tell_me_what_you_want!�

He�s refusing to look at me and I grab him by the hair and turn his head so I can see his eyes. Just as I thought-there�s the longing and need that I feel too. I�m just better at hiding it. �Tell me Will,� I warn softly, withholding his reward until he conforms to my rules.

�I want you to fuck me,� he mutters under his breath. Resentment touches every muscle of his body. He hates to beg, but he will if forced.

�I don�t think I heard you.� His eyes travel down, then soften as they rise again. He leans forward and touches his lips to mine. It�s not a literal adherence to the rules, but his intent is clear. �I miss you Angelus, let�s not waste our time fighting, huh?�

He always was a smart boy. I lean him back against the desktop�

****

�I have $1200, do I hear $1500?�

�$1500.�

They�re selling my desk; they can�t do that. I need it. It�s my only link to a time when I was in charge. When I didn�t live in isolation and celibacy-in servitude to the karmic law of the powers that be. My word was law and no one questioned my authority or refused me .�I�ve gotta have that desk Gunn. $5000!�

�You�re crazy right?� Gunn states the obvious.

He�s not the only one; several others turn to look at me-including the last bidder who is three rows in front of us. The man opens his mouth as if to match my offer and I glare at him.

�If you buy this, can we go?� Gunn asks.

�Yes, but I *need* this desk Gunn."

He stands up. �Sell him the God Damned desk,� he warns loudly and looks over at my competition. The man puts his paddle down.

�Um, sold-for $5,000,� the auctioneer offers hesitantly. No one argues.

�Load it in the damn truck,� Gunn grumbles as he turns to head outside.

This desk is going to help me get my confidence back. It�ll help me win Gunn-you�ll see. �Thanks Gunn,� I say, placing my hand on his arm to delay him. �You�re not mad that you wasted your night coming here are you?�

He turns around. �Mad-No.Bored.�

I have a good feeling about this already.