'Twas A Dark & Stingy Night
Disclaimer: Don't own Angel or Craig Ferguson.
"... Tomorrow's just your future yesterday!"
Lorne rubbed at his ear and nodded. He walked onto the stage, directed the dark-haired man to get off, and picked up the microphone. "Thank you, Craig. Wasn't that just brilliant? Keep up your applause, everyone." Lorne gestured at the next performer, "Back with something from Earth, Wind and Fire is one of our regulars, Mordar the Bentback!" He handed the microphone over, stepped down from the stage and wiped his hand on his jacket.
At a corner table, the dark-haired man accepted what looked like an orange juice from the waitress, but Lorne quickly took it out of his hands and sat down opposite him.
"This is a demon bar, sir. It may be non-violent, but that doesn't mean they're not out to get you. Best order straight from the bartender and watch every move."
"Thanks for the advice," Craig nodded. "Do you have anything else to suggest?"
"Like what ties to wear? Cause you'll be doing a lot of that choosing in future."
"I'm headed for an office job?"
"No, there's better lighting in an office. You're... gonna be on TV!"
Craig grimaced, "I am on TV."
"Yes, but people will know you for you, not a prissy Englishman." Lorne sipped some of the juice and nodded, "Oh, yeah. That's got spirit." He gulped the rest of it down. "I don't know how long it'll last, but you're headed for a lot of toilet humour and the occasional rant. There's some kind of creature called Kronos too, but I think he's harmless. Mostly."
"You got all that from my song?"
"It's better when you sing something of your own. By the way, where did that come from? It didn't sound completely finished."
"Oh, I dreamt it."
Lorne nodded.
"Mister Wick!" a loud squeal soon followed and both turned around to see the small brown-haired female creep up to their table. "I can't believe you're in Los Angeles. I... I used to watch you at home, before I... Before I..."
Lorne stood and put his arm around the woman's shoulders, "Craig Ferguson, this is Winifred Burkle; apparently one of your fans. Hopefully one of your future late-night fans as well."
"Pleased to meet you, sweetheart," Craig offered his hand.