Disclaimer: Don't own Angel, don't own Clueless.
Summary: He'd always been so eager to please, she loved changing people to the better.
I was always so eager to be accepted.
Always so eager to please the crowd.
Always wanted to belong somewhere, to someone.
When I got involved with computers back in high school it was just another way of killing the loneliness.
To my surprise I was good at it. Both at playing games, and the actual technical things that I could accomplish with it.
I’d found my niche.
Sure I was still the biggest geek in school, probably the entire county. But it didn’t matter. I had found me.
I started out in Mom and Dad’s basement, or rather my firm did. I don’t really care to dwell too much on exactly where I started out.
Within a short time I was a success.
Or I was a success when it came to work. My personal life was still as screwy as ever, or as non-existent as it had been back when I first started high school. I had friends now, part of the D&D crowd. I also had many people who wanted to be my friends.
When I moved to Los Angeles I expected things to be easy, the city that never sleeps. Or was that New York? I’ve discovered, the hard way, that Los Angeles doesn’t sleep either, so it can be both.
The large parties I hosted to attempt getting into the social circles... not overly successful. I met Cordelia, Angel and the gang. But even if the D&D is still fun - it’s not the way life’s supposed to be. I can be the conquering hero, there. I can’t be it here.
Which is why I chose to stick to what I do best.
I’m good at computers. And everything that is computerized, like the stock-market.
Randomly I do small favors for computer-challenged friends. Because I like feeling useful.
Like I did today.
Mr. Horowitz is my lawyer. Or one of them.
His daughter had some problems with her wardrobe. Her computerized
wardrobe. I asked a question about memory RAM that had Mr. Horowitz’ normal angry-looking face blank out. He really spaced out, so I offered to take a look at it for him.
Cher, that’s his daughter’s name, took one look at what I was wearing and proclaimed that I’d better not program my fashion taste into her closet.
I let my temper run off with me. It doesn’t happen often, I’ve got it locked up safe, like Maid Marian’s chastity in Robin Hood & Men in Tights, but sometimes it overflows. And since I’d spent the weekend being bugged by Cordelia about the exact same thing, one thing led to another.
Tomorrow Cher’s taking me shopping.