just fic


Title: Pied Piper
Author: Helen
Posted: 11-05-2004
Email: helen_taft@msn.com
Rating: R
Category:
Content: C/A
Summary: An AU sequel to Three Blind Mice, that takes the beige Angel arc and twists it to being all about C/A. Darla is about and so is Dru and Wolfram & Hart. With the single exception of the Shroud of Rahmon the rest of the episodes are not followed.
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: GoTeam, Angel’s Archive, Just Fic
Notes: Some dialogue taken from the script as I don’t have the episode on DVD anymore.
Feedback: Yup, feeding is good. Also, feel free to include criticism too if you feel the urge so long as its constructive, always appreciated
Thanks/Dedication: To Cali for being the best beta eva! Also, for putting up with me and last but not least, the ficpic.


Part 2

The booth door wouldn’t shut properly behind him and the Plexiglas on both sides was decorated with an intricate spider-web crack from top to bottom. He didn’t give a damn thinking at least it hadn’t been used as a urinal and the damn phone worked. The ringing tone stopped with a click as the call was finally answered.

Gunn didn’t waste time with pleasantries, “He’s lost it, flipped his lid, and headed straight to Looney Tunesville and I mean that in a full on sweaty haired, wild-eyed Rambo sort of way,” he announced into the receiver, breathless from running to the payphone after his cell had died a few minutes earlier. No fan of enclosed spaces he shifted nervously in the semi confines.

Across the street a cat leapt and knocked over a trash can, spilling the whole ensemble onto the paved drive with a harsh jangle. Wide eyes pale in his dark face, an unnerved Gunn jerked around to scan for trouble, the receiver held in a white knuckled grip.

“I got the picture with the first one, thanks all the same,” Wesley sighed down the receiver and Gunn could picture him rubbing stiff fingers over a wrinkled brow, “Hardly surprising given recent happening. Do we have any idea where Darla and Dru might be?” he asked referring to Gunn’s shocking news of earlier.

“Nope, that Holland Dude, he didn’t know we’re they might be at. Least, I think that’s what he said before…” stopping Gunn gulped in some fresh air, still squicked from being a stunned witness to murder, righteous or not. “Man, I still can’t believe Angel killed him right in front of me like that.”

With the single exception of Cordelia’s abduction, that was the most alarming thing about this whole mess. “He didn’t drink him though?” Wesley asked sharply, needing that assurance at least.

Even though Wes couldn’t see him Gunn shook his head in denial, “Nah, just squished his larynx into jelly and bashed his head open against the side of his own house. I’ve seen a lot of gory stuff, but I’m telling you that was nasty!” shuddering in remembered disgust, Gunn did another swift scan of the street out of habit.

There was a speaking pause while Wesley digested that, “We need to find out where they’ve taken Cordy. Is the car fixed yet?”

“I’ve got an old friend working on it now. Angel really messed up the wheel trying to force the clamp off. I’m just glad the damned clamper didn’t bring his gripe to Angel personally, things could’ve got messy.” Mind you if he could get his hands on the asshole that had taken exception to their parking on his turf, blood could still get spilled. Going for his truck would take longer than if Wes picked him, so he didn’t bother suggesting it.

There was a deep sigh, “Alright I’ll come to you. If the wheel’s been replaced by then all well and good, if not we go on my bike. Be ready, we won’t have much time.”

With that, Wes hung up, leaving Gunn to do the same. He knew what Wesley meant. Darla and Dru would kill Cordy or turn her, either way they were in deep shit. “Angel, I hope you’ve been takin’ your vitamins, Man, cos you’re gonna need some speed to catch up to those two.”

~


After being dragged into a stinking subway, pushed through a service door and finally yanked down a few flights of urine splashed and littered stairwells, Cordelia Chase had more than had enough and would have said so in no uncertain terms if she hadn’t been gagged earlier on trying to scream for help. Not that it would have done her much good, but she hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly at the time.

Of course calling Darla, psycho bitch, probably didn’t do her cause much good either. Dumb, but it was too late now, chapped lips or not.

Being abducted by your boss’s vampire sire and her lunatic partner-in-crime could do that too you. She knew fretting was a waste of time and energy but try telling that to her nervous system. The urge to vomit from fear and the repulsive smell of the last flight of stairs had her going dizzy trying to keep it down rather than risk choking on it.

Worse, every door they passed- hell even a shadowed recess, had her heart beating faster thinking this would be the one. That Angel would magically know she was in mortal danger and launch himself from it, saving her and dusting them as part of a brilliantly engineered master plan that hope blindly refused to admit was pretty damned unlikely.

Fate was the biggest bitch of all. How ironic was it that now she forced to do a 180 and keep her fingers crossed that Angel’s obsessive searching for Darla meant he was closing in? Okay, so the fingers in question were cramping, but that could be lack of blood thanks to Darla’s grip on her upper arm and since shaking her off only resulted in more pain, Cordy concentrated on keeping up.

In tow, the chiffon scarf that had been used bit into the soft inner flesh of her mouth. Trying to breathe slowly out of her nose, she concentrated on not giving into the panic crowding incessantly at the edges of her mind. Panic meant a faster heartbeat and labouring for breath. Not a great idea given the circumstances.

“Here we are- home sweet hell.” Darla taunted hauling her through a last door and turning on the heel of one thigh high boot so that her human face leered into Cordelia’s, “Don’t worry you’ll grow to love it- afterwards anyway.”

Deep bass and hip-hop from a boom box bounced off white tiled walls with old billboards advertising forgotten near bestsellers. The disused underground rail station had been abandoned back when the line was redirected to service LAX in the 80s. Now, blocked up at both ends with unlimited access to the warrens of sewers linking it to the rest of the city it was a haven for vampires.

Forgetting her aching feet and over the tight knots drying her spit, Cordy glared back at the spiteful blonde. How many times had Darla hinted being turned was going to be her fate? Did the stupid bitch not know how old that was getting already? And… Hello! Not a topic that usually bored. If she could have got the ropes off her wrists somehow, Cordy knew she’d have started with some staking and worried about possible retribution after.

Then hazel eyes widened in horrified disgust as her scope expanded to take in their new surroundings. There had to be a couple of dozen vamps lounging about the cavernous and grimy gloom. Some were looking straight at her, licking pale lips under glazed eyes travelling slowly over the sarong style skirt and flirty top she’d worn to boost her confidence. That she expected, but…Oh My God!

Shuddering with distaste she jerked her gaze away from writhing couples, naked butts pumping between spread legs all mercilessly revealed under spots of harsh white fluorescent lights, only to rebound off a similar scene the next place she looked.

Eww and gross! Jeezus- privacy people! Oh yeah, I forgot they aren’t people, silly me. Between tangled locks of loose dark hair her eyes tipped heavenwards. God, will somebody please get me out of here before I’m put off sex for life.

Too late, a high-pitched moan snagged her jittery attention. Over in another corner, crouched next to the kicked-in remains of a drink dispenser, a pair of males were massaging blood onto the bare chest of a spread-eagled female, while between her raised legs another dribbled yet more from a glass bottle to drip onto exposed curls, head dipping down to massage it in more intimately.

Her belly churned a revolt. That’s *it* I’m gonna puke! Ridiculously it was the last straw and Cordy’s blood started to boil. What is it with my life lately and isn’t it just my luck to get dragged to a vamp sex show? Realising the filthy floor was the only safe option she kept her eyes glued to it. There the internal harangue continued…and what is with Angel, he spots a blonde and turns into one? Where the hell are you, dumbass?

Blonde, sultry and beautiful, Darla had been a prostitute before the Master caught up with her four centuries earlier, so she hardly noticed the debauchery, but she did notice Cordelia’s revolted reaction. “Shocked, Cordelia?” Grabbing her elbow again, she dragged the reluctant girl, tottering on too high heels, betweens the groups sitting on the floor, “Didn’t you know we vampires are a physical lot?”

Uh huh, there’s physical and then there’s physical, and still yuck.

Unfortunately that wasn’t the end of it. Drusilla happily following behind, her head lost in a world of her own horrific making suddenly caught and held onto a moment of lucidity. Swaying forward she whispered into Cordy’s sweat-tangled hair, “Angelus was better. He knows what a girl wants- knows how to hurt you like you was a butterfly pinned on a--“

Skin crawling with revulsion at the dual and disturbingly sadistic images invoked of Angel, and the creepy demon hissing way too close to her ear, Cordy hauled back out of Darla’s cruel grip then heedless of bruises and without thinking it through, rammed an elbow into Dru’s malicious face. That got her the space she needed, as well as an instant case of the ‘oh shit am I in trouble’ cramps in her gut.

Realising the show being put on right in front of them, Cordelia’s audience abruptly tripled. Adrenaline and fear levels shot sky-high as her gaze skittered over the pale faces avidly staring and she could have kicked herself. Way to go, Cor, just feed the fire why don’t you, geeze.

Heart tripping and dizzy with terror, Cordelia backed away without taking her panicked gaze of the now growling vampire, feeling beads of icy sweat pop up all over her body. As she watched, Dru slowly wiped a smear of blood from her lip so that it streaked across one pale cheek. Pinned by topaz chips of menace and gag in place Cordy couldn’t even try talking her way out of it as Dru started to stalk slowly after her.

*Oh crap!*

Hands up to ward her off, Cordy finally clicked to the fact that she get rid of the damned gag and reached up to do it just as she stumbled over an outstretched leg. Arms flailing, she fell like a stone to land right in the lap of a grinning male vamp whose hands instantly latched onto her shoulders, cold rough palms cupping the smoothly rounded flesh and bone in a painful grip.

Screaming behind the gag it was unleashed to full effect when she roughly yanked it down, piercing the air as she shrieked again and kicking both legs frantically to escape, heaved her whole body from side to side. As a bid for freedom it failed, making no difference as open jaws with jagged fangs swooped.

~

Raucous applause assaulted Angel’s ears as he pounded down the steps into the club. Caritas, the Latin phrase for sanctuary was now a regular on his rounds, being a night-club that catered to both demons and humans. Tonight, only its Host interested him and that being the case having his impetuous entry slowed by a bouncer waving a buzzing metal detector in his face, nearly had him testing the clubs notorious magic from the get-go.

Suppressing the urge to smash a fist in the man’s already flattened nose, he took a step back and impatiently let the thing be waved over his tall leather coated frame. Done, and now free to enter restless dark eyes searched for the familiar tall, green skinned and garishly suited figure.

It didn’t take much searching. As usual the gregarious demon was reaching for the microphone, his perky and horned face wreathed in a big smile that managed to reach every corner, “Well look at us, are we having a great time or what? That’s what I love about this place. Thank you for the fantabulous applause and an even bigger thank you to the one and only Shriva for…”

Spotting a dangerously intent Angel pushing his way to the front of the crowd cost him his rhythm and his wide entertainers smile slipped as red eyes skimmed the tense vampire, abruptly losing some colour after getting hit by the unhealthy vibe reverberating off him in smothering waves.

Recovering a little the smile was patently forced, “… that wonderful rendition of Fridays Child. Now, folks please give it up and raise hand or claw for Yknush because she’s a little shy and needs to feel the love. Here take it…”

As unusually abbreviated as that introduction was, the Host didn’t care as he almost tossed over the mike to a skeletal demon with no feminine attributes whatsoever and promptly disappeared off the stage, keeping to the shadows to draw Angel away from where they could be overhead. He was guessing this was going to be one of *those* visits.

He wasn’t wrong and Angel appeared in front of him in seconds, a solid mass of blocking muscle, his handsome face fierce and unwavering as he said, “I need you to read me- now!”

Pretending to stagger back the Host held up an appealing palm, “Whoa, Angelcakes, how about all that dark power, wanna haul it back in before you singe my horns?” Then after a tiny pause, red eyes narrowed as inkling coalesced into knowledge, “But I guess a little murder does that for someone of the vampire persuasion?”

At that unwelcome insight Angel’s tension visibly wracked up another notch, cracking the strained calm façade to reveal the seething darkness beneath. Seeing it the Host realised his mistake and forcing a jovial laugh clapped him on the back before leading the way even deeper into the clubs recesses. In his rush for a distraction the usually suave demon made another error, “Hey kidding here, nobody deserved it more. So, Cordelia huh?”

Before the last Angel had been letting himself be guided to a small alcove table, but now he caught the anagogic demon in a fierce white-knuckled grip that almost crushed his elbow and when he spoke it was in a soundless whisper of rage, “You already knew this was going to happen?”

Rearing back from a looming snarl the Host held up a stern finger, “Hey, sanctuary spell, bucko, trust me you don’t wanna test it…” Angel’s fingers flexed harder making the trapped demon flinch and add, “and of course I didn’t know, not until you walked in here silently shrieking out what a crappy week you’re having anyway.”

That made some sense when it got through. Blinking as the blind rage slowly retreated, Angel let him go, “Sorry, but this has me spinning. I need to find Cordy and I need to find her *now*.”

Guilt, as much as he might want to flinch and turn his face from it, he couldn’t. If he hadn’t been such a coward about facing her, and gone chasing after a phantom none of this would’ve happened.

The host watched the flickers of emotion even the dark wells of Angel’s eyes couldn’t hide. “Uh huh, and preferably before she grows a set of those,” pointed out the green demon waving a finger towards Angel’s fangs, “Would you mind putting those away? On you it makes the other patrons nervous.”

Straightening his rumpled sleeve with a tug of elegant fingers the Host sat down and continued, “Believe me, Angel I’m on your side. After the grief you gave me over a human Darla I shudder to think what you’d do over a vamp Cordelia.” He suited actions to words for added emphasis before turning thoughtful, “Although, I’m still thinking hot momma.”

With no room for humour, Angel ignored the last and sat down opposite him. The past hour had been a waking nightmare and he knew he was drawing on his last reserves of sanity. Meaning tamping down the maelstrom of his emotions was getting more difficult every second; guilt for biting her himself and then not being there when she got abducted, fear that he was too late and he’d have to stake her. Or, almost as bad that she was terrified or in pain, knowing too well the sick games a jealous Darla would play to draw out his and Cordy’s suffering, stoked by the madness of Drucilla.

If that wasn’t already too much, pained dread lurked underneath both the guilt and the fear waiting to pounce if this turned out to be the final straw, causing her to leave him and realising that may well be necessary to protect her from a past that refused to let him go.

It seemed that no matter what he did it always came back to the horrors inflicted by his unsouled self, and if redemption could only be his at the cost of those he loved then he wanted no part of it. He’d told them that before and somewhere inside him the realisation was dawning that the message wasn’t getting through.

He’d deal with that later. Leaning forward with his arms braced on the scarred wood Angel’s expression left no room for debate. “I’ve searched everywhere I can think of and got zilch. I’m out of time and options,” the Host didn’t need his psychic abilities to guess where this was going, “You’re my last hope of saving Cordelia. I want you to come with me and I’d prefer willing, but if I have to I’ll get up, go out and then burn this place to the ground from the outside. Take your pick.”

Without warning a new voice came from outside the stunned circle of the table, catching the staring demon mid-goggle, “There’s no need for that, Angel.”

The Host relaxed with a telling slump, “Oh, thank God! Sanity arrives-“

Stiffening, Angel turned his head to level a burning look over at Wesley who met it with bland indifference, rocking back a little on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back as he said, “There’s no need for it because the sanctuary spell only covers demons. We humans can be as violent as we like.”

“Damn straight,” growled Gunn next to him, “So, get yo’ green ass movin’.”

~

Numbly certain she was dead meat, Cordy froze on a final choked off shriek with her hands held up in front of her face and cringing back as far as she could grind back her skull. Fangs flashed in a blurred unshaven face and she expected to feel that horrible stabbing sting again at any second. Only it didn’t happen and she was saved from a totally unexpected quarter when at the last possible instant a blur of black leather swept between her face and the vamps, the kick connecting with vicious power and spraying a gasping Cordelia with blood.

Overhead Darla briefly met her blank look of shock before bending down to grasp the dirty red hair of the gagging vampire. Viciously yanking the head up and back, she leant in so her face was only inches away from his and when she spoke every loaded word was audible to all, “Its funny but I don’t remember saying help yourself. Do I look like the sharing type to you?”

Busy choking on some teeth, he shook his head and dumbly released his prize. Free to roll away and clamber unsteadily back to her feet, Cordy darted a look back the way they’d come in, but catching Dru watching her like a hungry hawk and with no brilliantly obvious alternative, opted for staying put. Struck dumb at having been snatched back literally from the jaws of death, she could only hug her arms and try to suppress the convulsive shivers of a post adrenaline rush.

Meanwhile, satisfied she’d made her point, Darla rose to her full height and still managed to seem intimidating to the now silent and watchful occupants. Hands on denim-clad hips she turned to survey them all with an unhidden sneer, “What, did you think, I’d come down to this stinking hole to shake your hands, say Hi and bearing gifts too? In that case then you’re even dumber than I thought.”

Abruptly bending down she yanked Cordy to her feet and then thrust her forward. “This human belongs to Angel. You might know him?” a single blonde brow arched tauntingly high, “He’s the one that has probably dusted your sire, or those you sired. He’s the one that keeps burning out your homes and stealing the food right from under your noses,” the moment she’d said the name an electric hatred had surged through the entire station, smilingly Darla stoked it hotter, “he’s the one keeps making fools of you all, again and again, and again—“

Centre of attention or not, dark brows snapped down in a frown and Cordy opened her mouth to hotly refute being owned by anyone, only to shut it again with a snap as survival instincts kicked in, wisely deciding she’d save arguments about 21st century values and free will for when she wasn’t staring death squarely in the face.

Behind them Dru, in a typical about face, had forgotten her rage and was now lost on a blissful wave of malevolence, soaking up their bitter loathing like a sponge and returning it ten-fold. Hands clasped as if in fervent prayer with her long black hair tumbling around thin shoulders and dressed in a long button-down dress, she still retained the aura of nun-like virtue that Angelus had once craved to subvert and then had.

The station seemed to close in with a rabid hate and multitudes of faces swam before her eyes, the worst of it being she was the nearest focus for all of it. Under the stares her legs turned leaden with icy fear and her knees trembled. If she lived another minute it would be a miracle.

Oh crap, I’m gonna die. I am so dead it’s untrue.

Lost and totally clueless on how to save herself and as much as Cordy loved Angel, right then she wished she’d never met him. Especially since, so far, it looked like he wasn’t going to come rushing to her rescue any time soon. Alone and gulping back fear, Cordelia kept stiffly still, reasoning that if Darla wanted her left alive, then mutual hate aside, beside her was the safest place- for now.

Aware that she had to be alive to escape and guessing that depended on Darla convincing this sullen crowd to not dust them and pounce on her, Cordelia zippered her lips determined not to antagonise them. Not that they needed any help, panting shallowly after her near miss she could still hear the mumbles of the vampires surrounding them, each one sounding equal parts boastful and afraid.

“…Abomination…”

“…Needs to be put down like a dog…”

“Yeah! Rip his fucking heart out and eat it…”

Picking up the flow of mood, Darla switched tactics flawlessly, working the crowd by dropping the sneer and raising her voice to be heard, “I feel your pain and share your feelings, more than you can know. Which is why I’ve come to you,” the pause was deliberate, meant to entice and beguile with just a hint of a promise buried in that soft sweet voice.

It worked and even the cracked walls seemed to lean in to hear more. Wherever she went feet were drawn back to let her pass, ridged faces lifted attentively. “If you want to take a crack at Angel then this is your lucky night. He’ll be coming for her. In fact he’s probably already on his way here. Which is where you come in.”

Fabulous, she was bait girl again. God, I really need a new script.

Across several feet Darla’s icy blue eyes met Cordy’s and a flash of antagonism arced between the two. In that moment it wasn’t a case of captive and captor and stubbornly Cordelia refused to drop her gaze, forcing Darla to or risk losing her edge over the suddenly less than happy, would-be defenders.

Turning in a slow circle the sneer returned, “Well, there’s a surprise, all of a sudden you’ve gone quiet as grave. Are you afraid of Angel, is that it?”

There was a telling pause, until one felt ashamed enough to protest, “Not afraid… exactly-“

“Then what- *exactly*?”

The only answer was silence followed by uncomfortable shifting and indistinct mutters- at first. “Never mind that. What are you after, Darla, or should I take a guess?”

Whirling to face the direction that deep voice came from Darla was met with shadows so deep even her own preternatural eyesight struggled to pierce it. The sound of broken glass crunching underfoot set Cordelia’s teeth on edge as she locked her gaze with expectant horror. Oh God, no!

Darla’s fierce frown cleared as something niggled; recognition of something unnamed deep in her core. With an unhurried and measured tread black and dusty leather-clad legs were revealed first, hard muscled thighs leading the eye up to a tightly zipped and fitted black leather biker jacket.

Then finally the face was revealed, and the anticipation building so swiftly bottomed out leaving Darla illogically filled with rage. For a microsecond and despite knowing it was impossible, she’d hoped… Behind her she felt the human Cordelia slump and expel a gust of air in relief and her resulting smile was brief and utterly mirthless. At least one of them was happy.

It wasn’t Angel or Angelus. The face was equally hard, but scarred and instead of dark eyes that could be either poetic or gleam as the darkest pits of hell, slate grey stared back with dispassionate and wholly evil amusement.

“By all means, guess.”

Simply for giving her that false flare of hope an instant black hate flared to life and tossing back stray strands of blonde Darla sauntered within a few feet and then cocked a hip, knowing the lush curves of her body would be fully revealed in the barely there shirt, “But first tell me who the hell are you? And how you know my name?” she gave him a sweetly feral smile, “I’m pretty certain I didn’t say it.”

In response he smiled wider, seeming to enjoy her rancour as white teeth gleamed between thin yet sensual lips, “I know who you are, Darla. Wolfram & Hart told me I’d find you here.”

That stumped her and pale blue eyes narrowed thinking it couldn’t be possible, knowing she’d speeded things up just so she could avoid interference. After all she was the oldest vampire Darla knew of and nobody told her what to do and who to work with, especially a bunch of mortal lawyers, “You can’t be him. They said you wouldn’t get here for days.”

Even realising it wasn’t Angel, Cordy’s mouth stayed dry with fear. She’d only ever met one man with that hard edge of dark danger and that was Angel- until now. Uh oh, this did not bode well at all. Dru’s fingers twined in her hair stopping her unwitting retreat and then twisted cruelly. She barely noticed, too caught up with this newest threat.

Neck straining under that cruel grip at the base of it, all she could think was what the hell had she got herself mixed up in now?! Then…on seconds thoughts I don’t even wanna know. Angel, you better get your butt moving and come save mine, or I swear I’ll haunt you forever.

The distinct lack of welcome didn’t seem to faze the vampire even a little, “They were wrong, and isn’t it lucky, or I might have missed you,” the strong hint of sarcasm wasn’t lost on either Darla or Cordelia.

Caught out, Darla shrugged, “So sue me, I like to do things my own way.” Deciding to make the best of it she hid the animosity his presence seemed to bring out so effortlessly and closed the distance, laying a flirtatious finger on his chest as she circled, dragging the slim digit over one broad shoulder as she walked behind his back. “So… you’re the world famous, Rivven, the would-be successor to Angelus?”

Yet another name that drew an audible reaction, only this time even more telling. Rivven; synonymous with mercilessness, sadistic torment to rival the darkest prince of hell, and add to that a reputation for having never been defeated in a fight.

~

Overhead neon signs lit the sky with pink, orange, red and yellow in a flashing sequence fast enough to give even the mildest epileptic an episode. The subway entrance was located under an overpass, its entrance less than inviting with at least half a dozen street thugs playing a game of tag with knives, thankfully, turned so the blade was tucked into their wrists.

“This is the one, you’re sure?” asked Angel and Wesley in tandem.

“And here’s me thinking the sickly colour of my face is a dead give away,” was the unhappy demon’s snide response from the rear, “Of *course* I’m sure, you’ve dragged me halfway across town for this. Now can we just get it done, so I can go home and get drunk please?”

Taken aback and a little offended given the urgency of the crisis, Wesley couldn’t help but bite back, “Certainly, it would be a shame to keep a hang-over waiting.”

“Ha ha,”

“Keep it down. Wesley, what time did Gunn say he’d be here with the others?”

Checking his watch by rote, Wesley replied, “He said he’d need an hour to round-up, arm themselves and get here, meaning any time now.”

As if on cue the man in question loped into view, crossing the car-less street with ground eating strides. “Are we on target?” asked Angel turning to watch Gunn vault into the back passenger seat.

Pulling off his hood, Gunn gave him the thumbs up and something else, “Yup, the troops are ready and raring. But I got news, start the car and follow my directions. I think you’re gonna like this.”

Good news was always welcome and that sounded promising enough that Angel gunned the engine without further question. Meanwhile Gunn smirked at his seat partner, “So, Grevlorne-whatever…whatsup with that? Your parents not like you or something?”

“Krevlorneswathe,” corrected the demon witheringly, “and for your information I prefer, Lorne.” And boy, did he ever wish he’d kept that detail to himself. Next time there was a quiet spell he was leaving the ice breaking to someone else.

Juiced now they were getting somewhere, Gunn grinned and slapped him on the shoulder, “I’m just kidding, and if it makes you feel any better, Lorne it is.” Lorne slid him an unimpressed glance out of flame red eyes and catching it the human shrugged, “Look, just a little longer and then this all over and you get to go home- relax, Bro.”

As ever Lorne had a come-back, “Has no-one ever told you not to tempt fate?”

TBC