15: Contracts, Lust, and Eternal Torment

[hawkedup.livejournal.com]

Title: 15: Contracts, Lust, and Eternal Torment
Author: hawkedup

Summary: This takes place during the events of Angel: After the Fall. It is part of my “15” series in which we more deeply explore the minor characters of this and every other ‘Verse in a ‘canon’-fic-like fashion. I realize that Gunn is not a minor character in the series, but after you read this, you’ll understand why I feel this story deserves to be part of the “15” series.

Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Minor violence. Sexual innuendo.
Length: ~ 3,000 words
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations portrayed in Angel created by Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt, and Angel: After the Fall created by Joss Whedon and Brian Lynch.

Characters: Charles Gunn. Eve.

 

 

15: Contracts, Lust, and Eternal Torment

by: hawkedup

 

 

 

Charles Gunn looked down at his city from atop the US Bank Tower. The building swayed beneath his feet and one of its tentacles tried to take off his head. Nothing happened—the tentacle went straight through him. He was surprised the building monster noticed him at all. In the past couple months the only creatures in the streets that had been able to see him were cats.

           

“It’s always the cats,” he said to nobody. “Even in the movies, those damn cats always been making everything just a little bit creepier that they got a right to. Makes you think someone in the big Hollywood director’s chair knew something.”

           

“Ain’t that the truth, bro?” said a voice from behind him.

           

Gunn sighed. He recognized the voice. Anybody who had ever heard that voice remembered its owner. The way it was way too cute for its own good, right down to the lisp, making the woman seem innocent and harmless. If there was one thing Gunn knew, it was that this woman was never as harmless as she seemed.

           

“What do you want, Eve?” he said without turning to look at her.

           

“Oh, come on, Charlie Boy,” she said coming up on his side. He could even smell her perfume, like always. He had no idea how that worked. Gunn hadn’t smelled a single thing since the fight in the alleyway except for her perfume. “Is that any way to greet a former comrade in arms? We’re not gonna have to box, are we? I know you’ve thought of pounding me at least once or twice in your lifetime. The Senior Partners told me so themselves. They can do that, you know.”

           

She took a step closer to him, lowering her voice so it sounded more husky and womanly. She even pulled her tiny fists up like a boxer and then shot a quick right hook that… connected to his shoulder! He almost gasped in disbelief.

           

“Or maybe,” she continued, “you were thinking of a type of pounding that doesn’t happen in the rink. Is that it? You know… I haven’t had a good… pounding…since your buddy Angel made like King Paramount and took your Utopia to England. You know, when your boss Angel and I ‘boxed’ he seemed to like it well enough.”

           

Gunn almost laughed because the first retort that came to him was “Angel ain’t my boss.” The more things changed.... He looked down at his upper arm, which throbbed. Her punch hadn’t hurt, of course, but the fact that he had felt it…

           

“I felt that,” he said.

           

“Of course you did, silly, I—”

           

Gunn turned on her, and attacked. One hand went for her throat and the other for her mid section so that he could pin her up against the building’s ledge low ledge, maybe even dangle her over while she told him what he wanted to know. But when he squeezed her throat as hard as he could, intending on tearing her windpipe out of he had to, he phased right through her like she wasn’t there at all. Or like he wasn’t there.

           

“Senior Partners kind of thought that’d be your initial reaction,” Eve said. She moved over slowly and very daintily lifted herself up onto the building ledge. She wore a slinky, red silk dress. Her hair and makeup were done up, and when she crossed her legs, the dress slid up her thin legs revealing her upper thighs.  

           

“So they threw in a little safety measure that makes sure you can touch but can’t physically hurt. Don’t worry, though, you can cause me all the physical pleasure you want. I may even let you hurt me a little if you’re good enough and ask nicely.” She leaned forward on the wall seductively as she said this last part.

           

“You can tell whoever the big dogs in the white room are now days,” Gunn said, “to send some darker meat next time. Not a fan of manipulative little white girls who don’t know what side of the covers she sleeps on. Man’s gotta have some kind of standards, even in Hell.”

           

“Oh, Charles,” she said. “We both know that’s not true!” She laughed. “I, of course, am referring to the being man part. We both know that you aren’t any kind of man anymore. Just a lowly ghost forced to watch from the sidelines as his hometown dies in fiery glory.”

           

Gunn said nothing. He knew this part.

           

“But maybe you stopped being a man a long time before that…” She slid down off the building’s ledge and slinked closer to him. So close that only a hair breath separated their bodies. “I mean, what with Cordelia, and then Fred… Even Wesley in a way. How much of your soul did your body still have when you went into that alley? Not much I’d say.”

           

She stepped closer so that her tiny frame was pressed against his. She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. It almost felt… He tried shoving her away, but of course the attempt failed. She could touch him, and there was nothing he could do to stop her if she tried.

           

Her hand moved up and then her fingers combed through his hair.

           

“Always thought you looked better with hair,” she said. Then, she stepped away from him and looked him up and down appraisingly. He was surprised when he felt regret as she stepped away from him. To feel something… to feel anything… Her touch felt good.

           

As his punishment for his part in taking down the Black Thorn, he had been forced to wander the streets of Los Angeles as a non-corporeal, invisible ghost. He could watch and listen to his hometown be eaten, sometimes literally, but could do nothing about it. Nobody could see him, or knew he was there. And in addition to not being able to touch anything, he couldn’t feel anything either. He couldn’t feel the wind, or hot, or smell anything—even brimstone.

           

He didn’t want anything to do with Eve. But the opportunity to feel another person’s skin, to smell their perfume, and to feel the wind from their breath as they spoke close to his face… Even if it was Eve, and even if she was just another part of Wolfram & Hart’s punishment for him, why shouldn’t he take her up on her offer? He didn’t have to live by the standards of the living anymore, did he? It wasn’t like there was any salvation waiting for him. He shouldn’t pass up on the only respite from eternal torment he could possibly ever have.

           

No! he thought. It’s Eve. This is probably their plan. Make me desperate, and then dangle their skinny little carrot in front of me, get me to do their bidding. To play mind games with Angel or something, like they’re doing with Wesley. Not very smart on their part, though. Senior Partners are losing their touch. No matter how weak I become, I’ll always remember that it was Eve who first sent me to Dr. Sparrow’s office. I’ll never touch her!

           

“And the suit,” Eve continued. She smirked at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking in that moment. “Very snazzy, Charles. Maybe the Senior Partners will let you appear to Wesley one day so you can give him the name of your tailor. In my opinion, that guy needs a new suit. Variety is a good thing to have in an afterlife, you know.”

           

She stepped closer to him, again, and put her hands on his hips. She tugged him closer. He didn’t budge. Lust, something he thought he would never feel again, surged through his body but that thought raced through his mind once again:

           

She’s the one that sent me to Dr. Sparrow.

           

“You got a purpose for being here, Eve, or did the Senior Partners decide that I needed someone to annoy me by yapping like an attention starved puppy for all eternity?”

           

She had been tiptoeing, bringing her lips closer to his, but now she stopped. It was fleeting, but Gunn swore he could see a look of supreme disappointment, maybe even pleading, in her eyes. The look was gone immediately, though, and she shrugged as if it was no big deal and stepped away from him. Removing her hands like it was his punishment for being snippy.

           

“Senior Partners want me to show you something again.”

           

“Sorry,” he said. “Not in the mood to witness any more sacrifices or blood lettings or skirmishes between the lords. The last time with the little kids and the giant carnivorous goat was enough bad 80s movie gore for me, thanks.”

           

“This time it’s different,” she said. “You been to your old neighborhood recently?”

           

“Not since my corporeal days.”

           

“Well, that’s where I’m taking you. Turns out there’s a guy there who fancies himself some kind of big time hero. A real major player, like you used to be. You and him got a lot in common, actually. Senior Partners want me to take you to him, let you see that there are still people fighting your fight for you—even if they are doing it in ways you yourself would never have thought of. The guy’s even put a thorn in the side of the Senior Partners recently. I believe you witnesses his handy work the other day when you ventured over to your old place of employment? This guy’s the one that brought the house down.”

           

“I was wondering who took out the good ole Los Angeles branch of Wolfram & Hart. Man, that’s something I’d like to have seen. Would’ve almost made everything worth it if I could’ve seen that. Gotta admit. This guy’s got balls. I might even like him. He got any pets? Maybe we can set up a suburban breeder’s club or something.”

           

“No dog,” Eve said. “Just a big purple… fish. And some dumb lackeys, sort of like the guys you used to hang out with before you met Angel.”

           

“Either way. I think I’ll pass.”

           

“Come on, Charles. You know you can’t refuse me anything… for long. In fact, I predict that after you see this guy… Well, let’s just say you’re going to need something to keep your mind off matters of state for a while.” Again, she pressed her body against his, but this time just for a brief instant, as if giving him the smallest taste. “That’s where the whole touching thing comes in. If you’re really distraught, I’ll let you hurt me more than a little.”

           

He looked down at her. He had an idea.

           

“You’d think the big W. R. and H. would give a brother a break every now and then. They got big plans for everyone, I know. But not me, not anymore. Why waste time and energy sending you to play the part of Queen Skank? Why keep me here at all? I know they’ve always been the ones to stick it to the black man, but it seems like a waste of recourses, don’t you? Honestly, I’m surprised you do their work so willingly. Offering yourself up like this. Of course, that’s probably how a little girl like you got so important, right?”

           

“I do what I can,” she said and shrugged.

           

He moved close to her this time. His voice was low and threatening. “Yeah, and you do it to me, which I find downright comical. Who’s idea do you think it was to have Lorne kill Lindsey, Eve? Angel’s? Gotta give the man credit, he does what’s gotta be done, but that’s not how he thinks. Angel would have let Lindsey join the fight in the alley, but eliminating him… Now, that was foresight. That was cleaning up loose ends before they became loose ends. Angel’s a good guy, but he’s not one for looking again. And he thinks people can be saved. But I knew better. Having Lindsey killed was pure lawyer strategy. The big cats tell you that?”

           

With every word, her features had grown more ashen and sad. She now stood before him, not looking like the temptress. Instead like a scared little girl. There were tears in her eyes, though she tried fighting them off. For a moment it looked like she was going to try to defend Wolfram & Hart, but Gunn could see that she saw the truth in his eyes.

           

She knew she had been had.

           

“That’s why they send me to you,” she whispered.

           

“It’s the only reason I can think of, yep. Surprised you didn’t realize it sooner what with the serpent-like way you think. Still fighting the bad fight for your bosses? Look at you. Conjured up like this. You’re just being punished, same as me. I’m willing to bet my lucky ax I’m the only thing you can touch, just like you’re the only thing I can touch.” She stepped closer to him. She did not meet his gaze.

           

“How does it feel, Eve? The only person in the world that can make you feel anything at all is the very reason your precious Lindsey is kicking up hillbilly dirt in Never Never Land. Still think Wolfram & Hart is using you to accomplish something? Thing’s aren’t always what they seem.” He reached out and gently touched her chin so that her face came up, and her eyes met his. “Skim milk masquerades as cream.”

           

He pulled his hand back. He had never seen her so solemn, so… human. For the first time since he met her, Gunn thought that underneath all the lies and the ego and the power trip that there might actually be a human being inside of Eve.

           

That was something he had never been so sure about.

           

Maybe she was more harmless than he, and she, thought.

           

They were silent for a few minutes. The soul of Charles Gunn went over and looked out over the ledge of the building again. She came and stood beside him.

           

“I still have to take you to see that guy,” she said finally. Her tone was grave, almost emotionless, but still somewhat resolved. As if she were finally speaking to him as an equal. The false, too cute, ring was gone from her voice. “The Senior Partners may just be punishing me, just like they’re punishing you, but I still have to do what they say.”

           

“Wouldn’t think it any other way,” he replied.

           

“But there’s something I have to tell you about this guy first. They said not to tell you, but I think they wanted me to try to make you guess. I’ve always been good at making people guess… Anyway, the reason Wolfram and Hart want you to see him… It’s sort of like your biggest punishment yet, knowing about this guy. Knowing that he exists.” She paused. “What is the last thing you remember about life, Charles?”

           

He was surprised by the question.

           

“Uh… I guess one of your bosses’ vamps tearing my throat out, why?”

           

“Did you ever go try to find your body?”

           

He didn’t see the anger in her eyes.

           

“What? No way. Corpses give me the creeps. Can’t imagine what seeing your own could do to a brother. Is that what this is? This ‘hero’ you told me about? Was that just a way to get me to be surprised when you showed me what was left of my body? Sorry to burst your bubble, Eve, there ain’t nothing you could show me that could surprise me anymore.”

           

She looked at him. Now he saw the anger.

           

“Somehow I think you may be wrong about that, Charlie Boy. And since you found it so easy to break my little ghostly spirit… Let’s say that this is just a tiny bit of payback for what you did to Lindsey, shall we?” She reached out and grabbed his arm. He finally realized that the sadness in her eyes had been replaced by malicious humor. She was getting her revenge. “Prepare to be surprised, Gunn. Denial and self-loathing, here we come!”

           

He opened his mouth to argue. But the next moment the two had disappeared from the rooftop without a sound and reappeared in a small room. Gunn looked around. There was nothing here, unless you counted the giant bed and the big, unconscious Purple fish that was tied down on it. There was a vampire standing next to the fish, prodding it.

           

“What is th—” he started to say, but then got a closer look at the vampire. Gunn looked down at his black Armani suit and then back at the vampire who was wearing a blue sweatshirt just like the ones he used to wear… in another lifetime.

 

“You wanted to know, George,” the vampire said. “You pried into my boy’s head and raised all sorts of questions—don’t sleep through all the answers. Restraints really take it out of you, I hear you. Necessary to restrain your powers but after a while, it does a number on your constitution.”

 

Eve looked over at Gunn, who stood staring at the vampire, speechless.

 

“George!” the vampire yelled and backhanded the fish who came away with a start. Neither of them seemed to notice Gunn and Eve standing in the room with them. They were invisible to everything but each other. “I’m trying to educate! You got a glimpse of the slayers, you wanted to know more—so I thought a little face time was in order.”

 

“My god…” Gunn said.

 

“Surprised?” she said. She laughed at his silence.

 

 

~ A ~

 

Comments

[sockmonkeyhere.livejournal.com]

A GREAT concept (love it that only cats can see him), and so many great lines!

The way it was way too cute for its own good, right down to the lisp

Oh, you've nailed Eve right to a T!

"Denial and self-loathing, here we come!”

Poor Gunn's soul. Oh my god. O.O