AN: Uhm... I completely deny writing this fic, unless you like it.
Angel's eyes slowly opened, his hand moving to rub at his forehead. Perhaps drinking an entire bottle of aged Glenlivet was a bad idea. He stared up at the ceiling, running the events he could recall from last night through his head. Of three things he was certain: 1) The gang had gotten together last night to play a few drinking games and unwind 2) He had to start drinking again because -from what he could remember- he got his ass whooped 3) He was still wearing clothes.
Angel sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. The walls were covered in nonsensical different colored marker. Fred's handwriting. He jumped slightly, at the foot of the bed feet curled under her and marker in hand sat Fred. Her hair was in two pigtail braids, poofing out around the edges with fly aways and curls.
She pushed her glasses up, both eyes wide in nervous fear.
"Fred... you've got scared face. Why?"
She released a laugh she had been holding in for quite some time, "It's a good thing you don't use a mirror with not having a reflection and all."
"Do I look that bad waking up?" He ran his hands over his face.
"No, it's just... I ran out of wall to write on."
"And how did I get in here?" He raised a brow, "Wait, you what?"
A loud laugh sounded from the doorway, Wesley. "Angel," He straightened his composure, trying very hard to hold in a laugh, "you uh..." Giggle, "Have something on your face."
Another laugh came from Cordelia who peeked in the doorway, "More like all over your face!"
If Angel could have blushed, he would. "This is not funny. And, still, how did I get in here?"
"Well," Fred began, Texan accent bouncing through the air, "after an exciting rendition of Danny Boy, you insisted that this was your room, it always has been and I should get off of your bed before you fire me." She paused, capping the marker, "Your not going to fire me, are you?"
Angel sighed, "Sorry and no." Having a reflection would be marvelous right now. But Angel could shit in one hand, wish in the other and see which one filled up faster too. "As long as you wash this off my face, consider it forgotten."
"Uhm, there is one small, teensy little problem with that."
"What?!"
"It's permanent..." Fred frowned, the corners of her lips quivering a little bit. "You know, if you were a cave person, like in Pylea, it could be considered war paint."
"Physics based war paint, of course." Wesley added and then ducked out of the room, dragging Cordelia behind at the look he'd just received from Angel.
"But WESLEY! I want to take pictures!" Cordelia's voice echoed down the empty hallway.
Angel sighed, "So, I'm stuck with this for how long?"
"Two or three days. Which is good, I have to copy it down before my brain looses it."
"I'm sure this is going to make the baddies run in fright." Angel stood, stopping in the doorway as Fred added one last thing.
"Or giggle in delight!"