20 Minutes with Anne
Disclaimer: Don't own Angel, Buffy nor do I own the Stephanie Plum novels.
Nowhere to run.
When Anne was younger she’d run away. Whenever she’d gotten into a sticky situation, she’d run away.
Only this time she couldn’t. There were too many people who counted on her. Too many who were dependent on her
And so the freaking out that normally caused her to run away was allowed full reign.
How could she have done it?
This was the kind of stupidity that had gotten her involved with the vampires.
This was the kind of stupidity that had gotten her the nickname of Sister Sunshine.
This was the kind of stupidity that had gotten her deported to hell.
It had been pure, dumb luck that had assured that she had met him while she was waiting tables in the beginning of her career as Anne.
He’d looked dangerous, but had smiled at her when she had taken his orders.
Anne wasn’t the chatty type. She had decided that when she took Buffy’s identity. Buffy didn’t chat unnecessary, and neither would she.
Still she couldn’t help but smile back at him and tell him that she hoped he enjoyed his strawberry pie.
He’d grinned, a lethal grin, and told her he intended to. It was pretty slow in the diner and he’d invited her to sit down.
His name was Rick.
Just the thought of that made her rub her tatoo.
The tatoo that still said Rick. Even if her Rick was dead.
They’d talked, and at the end of his pie he’d made her an offer.
She wasn’t accustomed to people offering her things without demanding something in return.
Nobody ever had.
3 months later she was building up the center for runaways.
Now, 4 years later, 2 years after the whole debacle with Wolfram & Hart, she was lying in bed with her benefactor.
With nowhere to run.
She felt quite certain that Ricardo Manoso would catch her should she ever attempt to do so.