As always, Wesley was the first to arrive at the offices,
not counting the pair that lived there.
Half an hour later Cordelia and Gunn straggled into the
hotel and made a beeline for the coffee maker.
An hour after that, feeling quite cross Wesley sent Cordelia up to roust AI's final two employees from their respective beds, or whichever bed they'd chosen to share.
Less than a minute passed and Cordelia dashed back
downstairs and grabbed up a cross.
Gunn quickly snatched up a sword as Wesley loaded his
"I don't think so… she looked okay… unless maybe he turned her," Cordelia reasoned.
Angel and Fred appeared at the top of the stairs, both were paint spattered, bare-foot and clothed in jeans and old tee shirts.
Angel glanced over the armed trio assembled at the foot of
the stairs and his eyes darkened in disgust.
"You're evil again!" Cordelia proclaimed.
"You concluded that based on what, exactly?" Angel snapped.
"Well… um… you were laughing and you know the clothes are anything but Angel-normal," Cordelia said.
Angel rolled his eyes.
"And none of his clothes would do for painting.
Angel smiled at her, "No, clothes don't make me evil, but when I lost my soul a few years ago my alter-ego developed a real fondness for leather pants and satin shirts."
Fred looked Angel over appraisingly.
"He does, good enough to eat, that is if he doesn't eat you
first," Cordelia said.
"Trust me Cordelia, without my soul I'd never be caught dead
helping someone with anything," Angel sighed.
"Can you say 'never be caught dead'?" Fred asked Angel as
the air disappeared into the depths of the hotel.
The weapons Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn held suddenly looked awkward in their hands as they stood there staring up at the empty landing.