Barbed Wire and Roses D. M. Evans Disclaimer - Nope still not scriptwriting in LaLa Land. All characters are the property of Joss et al. Well, except Saeth. She's mine. Rating - R Spoilers - None, set season 2 of Angel between 'Epiphany' and 'Dead End' Summary - One of Wesley's Watcher friends comes to town to investigate the death of her friend, bringing her up against Wolfram and Hart.

"That is one of the scariest sounds I've ever heard," Gunn said as he and Cordy entered the Hyperion.

Cordy shrugged. "Sounds like Wesley laughing."

"That's the point. English never laughs like that," Gunn argued, "And Angel's no fountain of ha-ha's either."

"Yeah? When's the last time you laughed?" Cordy asked then frowned. "You're right. This is scary."

They crept up on their boss' office, half-expecting Wesley to be under attack by some demon that killed by jocularity. Instead, all they saw was Wesley taking tea with a thirty-something woman. She was a contrast to Wesley's still somewhat stiff and formal demeanor. Her Birkenstock sandals hung battered and stained from her calloused feet. Smooth, long, tanned legs draped over her chair covered only by a pair of scruffy khaki shorts, loaded with pockets. Her white tank top stretched over her generous chest and bore the insignia of a college neither 'fang gang' member knew. Her long, nearly black hair had been swept back into a ponytail and she gave off the air of 'perpetual college student.' She nodded at the duo and Wesley looked back over his shoulder at them.

"Oh, I didn't hear you come in. I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Dr. Saeth Maddoc." Wesley gestured at the woman. "Saeth, these are two of my friends and fellow investigators, Cordelia Chase and Charles Gunn."

"Yes, Cordelia is the seer you were telling me about," Saeth said, getting to her feet. She held out a calloused hand to Cordy.

Cordy gave Wesley a curious look and had to fight to restrain herself from falling into old habits and suggesting a hand lotion Saeth might want to look into. Saeth's firm handshake nearly made Cordy wince. "He did, did he?"

"He knew I'd be interested. I'm very much looking forward to meeting Angel when he wakes up." She held out her hand to Gunn as well. "And I'm pleased to meet both of you."

"Same here. So you know about Angel right?" Gunn asked cautiously.

She bobbed her head, her ponytail swinging. "It'll be fascinating to meet the Scourge of Europe."

"Most people would want to avoid that," Gunn said, sprawling on one of the available chairs.

"And Angel's not like that any more," Cordy said, thinking of how close Angel had recently come to reverting to form.

"Well, if he were, I doubt any of us would be sitting here," Saeth said and Cordy glared.

"Saeth is a Watcher," Wesley offered, "And belongs to one of the oldest wizarding families in the United Kingdom."

Saeth snorted. "I can't help but think I should be going to Hogwarts any time someone mentions my 'wizarding family'."

"So you're good with the magic?" Gunn asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You bringing the fight here?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," she replied.

"Just what we needed, someone else's fight," Cordelia grumbled. "You'd better be a paying customer."

"Well, actually it could be your fight. I've been sent to help," Saeth replied. "And I'm not a customer of any kind."

Gunn turned to Wesley, "What fight?"

"Something we didn't even know about. It could be the Powers That Be don't think Angel's help will be required or perhaps they're waiting until something further happens before sending you a vision, Cordelia," Wesley said, fussing with his glasses. "I wish I would have had a little more warning that you were coming, Saeth, so I could have prepared everyone."

She rolled her eyes. "You know what ponces make up the Council. They still haven't forgiven you for the Sunnydale fiasco so why condescend to tell you anything. I sent you that email but you suck at checking your account."

Wesley squirmed uncomfortably. "I wish that weren't true about the Council but I know it is."

"What sort of trouble are we expecting?" Gunn asked, collecting himself from his sprawl. He looked alert and ready for action.

"I'd prefer to wait until Angel's awake before I get into specifics but it had to do with an artifact found at a dig outside of Santa Barbara, an artifact from the Chumash tribe. I'm a doctor of archeology, though I usually stay in Wales. A friend of mine was on the dig here in California. She emailed me about some law firm hassling her for the item, claiming it was found on land owned by their client, that she never had proper authority to dig in the first place and that they wanted the item. She replied that she did indeed have proper authority and all items recovered were going to be returned to the Indigenous people once a study was made of them. Forty-eight ago she was found washed up on the beach. The artifact is missing," Saeth said, tapping her short nails against her teacup.

"Wolfram and Hart?" Cordelia asked, knowing she didn't need to be a seer to guess at that.

Saeth nodded. "Wesley said that it wouldn't be unreasonable to think they're involved with Elyta's death." She took a deep breath. "Been trying not to think about it too hard so we were just catching up on old times waiting for you and Angel."

"Lots of old times?" Gunn asked with a licentious look thrown Wesley's way.

The ex-Watcher blushed. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"I've known Wes since he first joined the Watchers, not real well at first since I'm attached to an Enclave in Wales," Saeth said. "But we usually exchange a couple of emails a week lately."

"And you've been a Watcher long?" Cordelia asked, giving her a fish-eyed look. "We've had some real problems with Watchers from time to time, no offense."

"Like I said, we can be a real bunch of tossers but yeah, I've been at it long. My parents were Watchers. Six months after I was born a black star came across my path, saying 'hey, check her out, she's a Slayer in Waiting.' Well lovely. I was put into training as soon as I could walk. I lucked out and didn't get the gig." Saeth grinned grimly. "I decided I was just too weird to be anything but a Watcher so I moved into that once I was too old to be Chosen. I wanted a life outside of the Council so I made sure I went to college. Granted, archeology doesn't differ all that much, what with all the research. I tell you what, I'm starving. Any chance of snagging some supper before Angel wakes up?"

"I think that can be arranged."

* * *

They were half way through their take-away Chinese when Angel surfaced. He paused in the doorway, seeing a stranger sitting with his friends. She glanced up at him, her chopsticks freezing just in front of her mouth for a moment as she regarded him then she plucked the piece of orange chicken off with her unpainted lips. He took a few steps closer and a little blue flash caught their attention. It was so quick they would have thought they imagined it had they all not tried to track it.

"What was that?" Angel asked, his eyes not leaving the stranger.

"Angel, this is my friend, Dr. Saeth Maddoc," Wesley said, not addressing the question.

"She's a Watcher," Cordy added with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Saeth got up, shoving her chopsticks into her food so she could offer him her hand. "Nice to meet you. Sorry about that. I should have turned it off."

"What off?" Angel said, letting her pump his hand.

"I have a wide bubble of protective spells around me. That one lets me know if the undead are getting a little too close for comfort." She smiled.

Angel's eyebrows lifted and Gunn hooted.

"You can sense vampires approaching? Can you cast that spell on us? Does it work for other demons?" he asked rapidly, his chocolate eyes lighting up.

"There are other spells for sensing demons and yes, I have them woven into my bubble and no, I can't cast it on you, I'm afraid," Saeth said, with an apologetic shrug.

"Knew that was coming. Giles would have had one of those for us and Buffy if it were easy," Cordelia said, taking a swig of her diet cola.

Saeth cocked her head to one side. "You knew the Slayer?"

A sour look slid over Cordy's face. "Went to high school with her. Everything started going wrong the day she showed up. I went from Queen of Sunnydale High to .this." She heaved a huge sigh and attacked her shrimp in oyster sauce. "I guess being a Watcher and all you know Buffy, too and Giles."

"No, I've never met the Slayer.guess that's a good thing really. I mean what would I say to her? 'Sorry you got screwed out of a nice long normal life and boy, am I ever glad I wasn't you?' Of course, back when I was young I welcomed the chance to be the Slayer. Most of the Slayers in waiting do. We talked so big but I think most of us were really rather scared at the idea that it could be one of us," Saeth said, shoving a lock of her wayward walnut hair back into her ponytail. "But I do however, know Rupert. Haven't seen him in a long time but I do know him. I got sent to him when my parents decided that I wasn't a nice proper witch."

"You weren't. As I recall, you arrived in England with a mohawk and a pierced tongue," Wesley said with a hint of distaste.

"It was the 80's. Retro-punk was in and if you weren't such a prig back then you'd have liked me like that." Saeth's green eyes flashed fire at him.

"I'm missing something. Why were you sent to this Giles guy?" Gunn asked, scraping the bottom of his container hunting for one last morsel.

"He was supposed to lecture me about the improper use of magic," Saeth replied.

"Because he was such a juvenile delinquent?" Cordy piped up.

Saeth laughed. "You do know him."

"Being lectured is a drag," Gunn said, giving up on the container.

"Actually it was fun. I pointed out he could stand there lecturing me or we could go do something fun. After the first several of Tomos Watkin's 'Merlin's Stouts,' the rest becomes a blur. We sort of lost a whole week. We're pretty sure we had fun though." Saeth laughed, thinking back on it. "At least he appreciated my pierced tongue, Wes."

Wesley just wagged his head, covering his eyes.

"Eww, I don't need any visuals, thank you," Cordy said, wrinkling her nose.

"Gunn's not the only one who's missing something," Angel said. "I missed out on what brought you to L.A. I would have thought Wesley would have mentioned he had a friend coming to town." Angel glanced at his friends thinking maybe they had cut him out of things again. He was still trying to work his way back into their good graces.

"Wes didn't know. He didn't check his email. Luckily, I know where he works."

"Her friend was murdered," Wesley said softly. "After a conflict with Wolfram and Hart."

Angel nodded. "That would explain why you're here."

"Yes and I was waiting for you to arrive so I could explain in detail." Saeth set her dinner aside. "Dr. Elyta Ashworth was working here on the Channel Islands when she emailed me about a spectacular find. She and I had gone through Cambridge together and knew I had an interest in things of well, let's just say magical bents."

"What did she find? Is this the artifact that was taken?" Wesley asked.

Saeth nodded. "She was certain she had found the Sxil-kat knty Tomolo of the Chumash people. There were descriptions of the tomolo in several arcane Spanish missionary texts and what she found fit the description well. Given that Elyta is dead and the tomolo is missing suggests she was right."

Wesley shared a dark look with his companions. "The fact that Wolfram and Hart are even in the picture gives it a lot of credence."

"Tell me about them," Saeth prompted.

"It's a law firm on the surface," Angel said.

"But underneath it's a whole lot darker. They're experts in the improper use of magic, not to mention demons," Wesley said. "They've seemed to make it their mission to destroy Angel."

Saeth gnawed her lower lip then said, "With the tomolo they might just be able to do that."

"What is a tomolo?" Cordy asked, settling back, waiting for the long drawn out Watcher-esque explanation.

"Tomolo is Chumash for 'boat'."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "You speak Chumash, too?"

"Do I look like I would know the language of a small tribe of people thousands of miles away from my home?" Saeth shot back, sensing the hostility the younger woman seemed to have for her.

"You're a Watcher, aren't you?" Cordy glared.

"Touché. Well, no I don't speak Chumash but Elyta did fill me in on a few words of it. She was the one with the interest in America's indigenous people. I'm more interested in my country's indigenous folk.and weapons. That's my area of expertise. I'm good with ways to kill people," Saeth said. "The Sxil-kat Knty Tomolo translates to the 'fox-island boat.' It's an effigy carved of bone in the shape of a boat. Scrimshawed, more or less, into it are a plethora of ol-olkay, porpoises, which the Chumash believed were once Chumash tribesman who were going to drown and Hutash, the Earth goddess, saved by turning them into porpoises. It's amazing how often that myth turns up in cultures all around the world." Saeth's green eyes sparkled as she went full-bore into Watcher mode. She pouted seeing all the impatient looks she was getting. "Anyhow, the artifact that Elyta uncovered met that part of the description and there were remnants of multicolored paints on it. The tomolo was supposed to be covered with a mistayo, a rainbow."

"What does this tomolo do that would make Wolfram and Hart take notice?" Angel asked, trying to prod her along. He, like Cordy, was seeing it must be inherent Watcher training to expound endlessly.

"It was supposed to be a gift to Hutash's favored priestess during a time of strife. Not only did the Chumash have the Spanish to contend with, but they had all their little wars with other Chumash tribes and presumably other tribes as well. Hutash had her husband, Sky Snake, imbue the boat with part of his magic to call down lightning and it was also said to be able to call forth floods," Saeth replied.

"That would make it an impressive weapon," Wesley said. "Where was it found?"

"On a dig in near the city of Kaxas.I guess you'd call it Prisoner's Harbor, on Santa Cruz island," Saeth said.

"If this thing was so powerful why didn't these Chumash dudes turn it on the Spanish?" Gunn asked.

"It was somehow lost. The Chumash believed Hutash thought better of the gift, seeing how much evil it could be put to," Saeth said. "Others believed the Spanish stole it but didn't know how to use it. That's more likely. It passed into the faded memory of myth until just this month. Elyta told me about it. It was the one thing she had hoped to hide from the Chumash people. She believed its power was real, as did I. She wanted to give it to me so it would be safe."

"Locked away in the Council's vaults," Wesley said and she nodded.

"But somehow Wolfram and Hart found out," Angel said, "And you think they killed your friend for it."

"It's possible. She's dead and the tomolo is gone. I'm going to find out who murdered Elyta and get back that magical artifact," Saeth said.

"And you need our help?" Angel asked.

"It is our mission," Cordelia said, but looked rather unhappy about it. If her companions took the time to see, they'd notice she didn't like Saeth much.

"I'm not sure how I'm going to go about this but I didn't honestly come here looking for help. Wesley's told me how you've gone up against the law firm in the past. So I came by to see an old friend while I had the chance and see if he could at least give me the informational tools to go up against Wolfram and Hart. If you want to help, I wouldn't say no, however," Saeth said.

"I'm thinking turning around and heading home isn't in your plans," Angel said.

Saeth grinned darkly. "I work special ops for the Watchers. I can handle myself."

"Special ops? Aren't they the ones who came after Faith?" Cordy asked, shooting an irritated look Angel's way as if to say she still didn't like him keeping contact with the Slayer. "The thugs?"

"They're not thugs, Cordelia," Wesley said, sparing an apologetic look for Saeth.

Saeth shrugged dismissively. "We do what has to be done. Sometimes it gets a little bloody. When I get sent on a mission, I'm not expected to ever return. If I do, great but everyone's prepared for the fact I could get killed."

"You don't look much like a thug," Cordelia said, with a wave at Saeth's outfit. "You look more like a tree-hugger."

Saeth's lips parted but she held back her retort. She didn't have time for a cat fight as good as it might feel. "I'm mostly an archaeologist, granted an archaeologist who's been trained in the hunt and kill since before I can remember. Like I said, I'm not asking for help but I'm not turning it down if you care to offer it."

"I think that the tomolo is something we would not want to leave in the hands of Wolfram and Hart," Wesley said.

"I'm not sure the Watchers need to have it either," Angel said darkly then regretted it. It was hard to keep in mind Wesley was in charge and not him.

"Fine. We'd rather have it destroyed than in the wrong hands," Saeth said.

"We could help you look into it," Angel said, forgetting to look to Wes for confirmation.

"Well, if it's all decided I have a call-back tonight for that play I auditioned for, so if you'll excuse me," Cordelia said, sweeping to her feet. "You don't need me for this part anyhow."

"Yes, fine, it'll probably be a late night of research," Wesley said, oblivious to the tension between the women.

"Angel, you wanted to check out that graveyard for a nest of Oerke demons tonight," Gunn said. "They don't wake up until the moon's way up so if we don't get going, they'll be out of there."

"Oh, I should help them with this," Wesley said.

Angel waved him off. "Gunn and I can handle it. You probably haven't seen Saeth in a long time. You two catch up."

Wesley gave him a grateful look. Saeth got up, smiling.

"Thanks. To be honest, I'm a little tired for research tonight. I could use a little unwinding. If you're sure you don't need Wesley, I would like the time to chat. Oerke demons are immobile until the moon's at its zenith so you guys shouldn't have any troubles with them," Saeth said.

"Have fun. Because if you're going up against Wolfram and Hart, I guarantee you won't be having time for much else," Angel said and headed for the weapon's cache.

* * *

"I.shoulda.went wid them," Wesley slurred loudly, weaving on his barstool. The music seemed to be bouncing him out of his seat.

Saeth snorted. "As if Angel and Gunn need help with Oerke demons. Even you could take them with one arm tied around your back." She drained the last of her beer and wiggled her mug at the bartender. "Don't know why I bother. The Yanks have the worst cwrw in the world."

"What now?" Wesley blinked, trying to get the three of her to form back into one solid woman. All he accomplished was to merge her with other people at the crowded bar.

"Cwrw." She pointed at the taps. "Beer."

Wesley tried to pronounce it, made a few 'ka' sounds and gave up. "Order me one, too."

"They cut you off, mate. You're a sloppy drunk." Saeth accepted her fresh mug of brew. "One more and I'll be carrying you home and I don't fancy that."

"Nobody wants me," Wesley moaned, slumping loose-limbed against the brass rail.

"And a crybaby drunk. Next time I'm taking you to a coffee house so we can catch up. It's embarrassing," Saeth said, glancing around the obviously too- trendy "Irish" bar whose idea of Irish beer was Killian's.

"It's true though. Nobody wants me. Did I ever tell you what Quentin Travers said to me when the Council fired me?" Wesley's dark eyes went hangdog.

"Yeah, ignore him. Mae o'n rel coc oen," she said bitterly.

Wesley peered at her. "The drunker I get, the more Welsh you speak. Or is it the drunker you know that was never my best language. Would it kill you guys to lay off the double constants and find a few vowels?"

Saeth snorted up her beer, clamping a hand over her face, trying not to spew beer everywhere. She slapped him. "I said Quentin was a right idiot."

Wesley processed this then slid his glasses off to clean them. "Sounds like you said he was a lamb's cock."

"See, you do understand some Welsh. 'Coc oen' is a 'lamb's cock'. Most men are, too," Saeth said, catching Wesley's glasses as they slipped from his numb fingers.

"It's not just the Council who doesn't want me. Angel Investigations.they don't really want to follow my lead. They still want Angel in charge.secretly. They pretend they don't but they do. I told you what he did." Wesley's head bobbed as he lost his thread of the conversation. He sniffled and Saeth prayed he wouldn't start blubbering.

"You called me when it happened. Angel almost went bad."

"Yeah, so we carried on without him." Wesley cradled a hand protectively across his gut. "I got shot."

"I know, Wesley. You called me once you were well enough to complain." She smiled gently. She wasn't the most sympathetic listener. Wesley knew that from experience but never seemed to care.

"He came back and we all pretended it was better without him. Rubbed it in Angel's face. God, we were so pitiful and childish." Wesley's wan face found a new level of sadness.

"That's a word for it." Saeth drained away the rest of her mug again. She recalled Wesley's recent emails. He felt bad about what they were doing. He knew better. He knew it was juvenile and dangerous. When someone was teetering on the edge you don't give him a push. "That's it, I'm taking you home. You're too damn morose."

Wesley glanced over his shoulder at the door. "It's too dark out there. Could be vampires.or demons."

The guy at the next barstool looked over at that.

"That's why we aren't walking home." She waved over the bartender as she pulled out her cell phone. "Do you have a number for a cab service? We've had too much to drive home."

The bartender gladly gave her the number. Wesley passed out on the way home, drooling on her shoulder. Saeth stroked his dark hair affectionately. He had always been a prancing prat. It wasn't until the last few years that he had come into his own. Saeth wasn't sure why she had always liked him. Maybe it was his inherent need to do well, even if he sometimes was too rule bound to do it right. Maybe it was because both of them had horrible parents, his father, her mother. Both were Council brats. They had a connection. She knew he needed someone to talk to, and tonight so had she. She missed Elyta more than ever.

She cursed at the cab driver who refused to help her with Wesley in front of the Hyperion. Rather than help her half-carry Wesley into the hotel he drove off without his fare once he realized where he was. Maybe the locals knew the hotel was haunted or something. At least she had managed to rouse Wesley who was now singing some ridiculous frat song from his college days as they wove up the steps to the hotel. She expected it to be deserted but to her surprise the lights were blaring in the lobby and Gunn, Angel and Cordelia were pacing it anxiously.

"Did something go wrong with the Oerke demons?" Saeth asked, stumbling inside with Wesley.

"Do you know what time it is?" Cordelia demanded, stomping across the floor.

"From downwind, it's Miller time," Gunn said, waving a hand in front of his face.

"It's not even two in the morning," Saeth protested, tightening her grip on Wesley who nearly lurched free.

"Wesley wasn't answering his phone. We thought something had happened to you two," Cordelia said, stalking over to them, oblivious to Saeth's look of warning.

"Turned the bloody thing off," Wesley said, disengaging from Saeth to crash against the couch. He flopped down on it, nearly rolling to the floor.

"I guess I'm glad I brought him back here then. It occurred to me a little to late that I didn't know how far away he lived from the bar. I wasn't sure I had enough cab fare," Saeth said.

"It looks like you broke him," Angel observed dryly, glancing down at the sprawling rag doll of an ex-Watcher.

"He'll live." Saeth snorted. "So, what happened that you needed Wesley?"

"Nothing actually. It's just that English checks in way too regular and when he didn't we." Gunn trailed off sheepishly.

"Panicked," Saeth supplied for him.

"Let's just say we were concerned," Angel said, his eyes darting between Cordy and Saeth. He could read the tense body language and hoped Cordelia wouldn't do anything stupid. He wasn't making any bets on it though.

"Sorry but you did say he could have the night," Saeth said. "Is it okay he sleeps there?" She pointed to Wesley who was already snoring loudly.

"I'm not touching that," Gunn said.

"Don't blame you. He looks like a drunk Puddleglum," Saeth said.

"A what now?" Cordelia's brow furrowed.

"You know, Puddleglum, all long skinny legs," Saeth said.

Angel laughed, trying to swallow it back. "It's from Narnia," he said but Gunn and Cordy didn't look any more elucidated. "And you're right, he does."

"I know. Well, better let me find a patch of floor for myself. I can't remember where the hell my temporary apartment is. I'm a wee bit drunk." Saeth pulled the band out of her hair, freeing it from its tail.

"Could have fooled me," Gunn said.

"Yes, well that's usually the point," Saeth said. "I'm not one to lose complete control."

"There are rooms here with beds," Cordelia said. "They're old though, sort of gross. The flooring isn't so good on a few of the floors."

"I've slept in worse fleabags. This is pretty plush in comparison," Saeth assured her.

"This way then." Cordelia took off with an irritated quickness to her pace.

They all wended down the halls to one of the rooms. The furniture was all dust covered and the place smelled closed and musty.

Saeth glanced over at Angel. "It's your place, sure you want me here?"

"I can trust you not to stake me in my sleep?" he asked, a smile touching his brown eyes.

"You have my word on it. Wesley vouched for you. That's good enough for me," Saeth said.

"Then you can stay."

"Man, we really need to fix this place up. The dust is going to choke you," Gunn said, looking at the brownish grey velvet that coated everything. Was it dust or a herd of mice?

"I don't think I could lie on that bed," Cordelia said with a smug smile.

Saeth shrugged and gestured at the bed. A glowing shelf formed above it and she slid onto the shelf. "Night." She rotated her arm in an arc drawing more bluish light over herself in a cocoon.

Gunn and Cordelia turned wide eyes on Angel who just closed the door.

"What the hell was that?" Gunn asked.

"Probably some sort of protective shell," Angel replied.

"I could use me one of those." Gunn nodded in appreciation. "Probably takes a lot of magic."

"Doubtless," Angel replied, heading back downstairs.

"Could it hurt you?" Cordelia asked, a concerned look on her face.

"If I touched it, most likely," the vampire shrugged. "But I'm not going to."

"You sound almost.afraid," Gunn said cautiously.

Angel shot him a dark look but Gunn remained unapologetic. "Not afraid. Vampires know to fear the Slayer but we consider the Watchers, on the whole, as sort of a joke. Except for the Special Ops. They earn respect. She isn't kidding. She came here prepared to die. The Special Ops do the Watcher's dirty work: rescues, interrogations, captures, wetworks."

"Huh?" Cordelia asked.

"Assassination." Angel smiled wryly. "That's the thing, it's too easy to become nearly as ruthless as the things you're supposed to be protecting the innocent from."

"I hear that," Gunn said.

"Some of us considered the Special Ops to be a little psychotic and they are a prize when it comes to converting people. A vampire that used to be Special Ops is usually hell on wheels," Angel said. "And if she finds out that Wolfram and Hart are behind her friend's death, she's likely to finish off what I started."

Gunn shifted a bit nervously at that, torn between his street upbringing telling him that it was a good thing to be that hard and that part of him that said it was wrong to hurt another human. Cordelia opened her mouth to protest but Gunn thunked her shoulder and she held her tongue.

Cordelia, descending the stairs, pointed to the unconscious Wesley. "Do we leave him?"

"Might as well," Angel said.

"Tomorrow is going to be an ugly day for him," Gunn said, feeling a twinge of a sympathy hangover for his friend.

Cordelia smiled wickedly. "Serves him right."