Disclaimer: I do not own the Angel fandom or any of the characters from the show. I am not making money from the writing of this story.

Title - A Paler Shade of Green.
Author - Rina
Pairing - Lorne/OMC
Other featuring characters - Fred, Connor, Angel, Wesley, Gunn, Cordelia. None of them actually together.
Rating - PG-13. Slash, M/M, adult themes, mild swearing.
Summary - AU. Did you ever watch Angel and wonder why that devilishly delicious Lorne never got any lovin'? Not even so much as a kiss? Well, this fic will change all that!
A/N - In this story Lorne will be gay. Or at least bi. It was never clear in the series which way he swung so I'm taking full advantage of that and having fun with it! Enjoy the first part of my story and please let me know what you think.

Part one.

Lorne is strolling along the carpeted corridor of the Hyperion Hotel, wearing a tailored orange suit with a hot pink shirt and tie, his bright outfit offsetting the greenness of his complexion. The blonde tips of his hair glow golden as he passes by the soft lights ensconced on the walls either side of him. He's just returned from doing an in-house clairvoyant reading on a forty year old Hollywood actor desperate to know if he's going to make a comeback after a vicious divorce followed by a well-publicised battle with drugs. Due to his extensive connections in the entertainment biz Lorne was offered the job and having always been a fan of this particular screen idol he jumped at the chance to probe the man's famous aura and see exactly what was in there. Through the wonders of his musical mind-reading Lorne was able to inform the now-sober and wiser actor that a movie based on a comic book superhero is coming up and though he may be sceptical about the role at first, he won't regret accepting it because it will make him a massive star all over again and replenish his drained bank account nicely.

On top of that, he's going to meet somebody wonderful who will heal the mess that his greedy ex-wife made of his heart. The still-handsome dark-haired celebrity was over the moon to hear this and thanked Lorne sincerely and gratefully, proving that his nice-guy reputation isn't just a reputation. Apart from the huge tip he got, Lorne enjoyed giving the good news. Makes a change from all the cheating, stealing and lying he usually picks up when he listens to people sing. That stuff makes him feel icky, like he needs to take a long, hot shower to get clean again, but when he sees the shining future success of somebody who deserves it, it leaves him with a positive, upbeat feeling and the sense that the world isn't such a bad place after all.

As a result, he's in a fabulous mood right now and is looking forward to having a cocktail or two to celebrate. Indeed, he's already made himself one; gin and tonic with a squeeze of lime, and is carrying it back to his room, ice cubes tinkling against the short glass in his hand. All is blissfully quiet in the Hyperion for once – no bloody brawls or dangerously cracked portals spewing out creatures in the lobby – and for a moment he thinks it's almost TOO quiet, quickly glancing up and down the hallway to make sure some big nasty hasn't eaten everyone. It's not likely, though. He would have noticed gore and guts splattered on the floor if that was the case. It's mid-evening on a Thursday night so the gang are probably getting dinner somewhere or watching a movie. Besides, if anything sinister was lurking in the hotel Connor would have killed it by now so Lorne shakes his head in dismissal and opens the door to his sanctuary, going inside and kicking off his white loafers. With one hand he tugs at his tie, loosening it, and then pulls aside a velvet curtain to peer out the window, gazing at the landscape of LA spreading out before him. He likes the view much better when it's dark because all the concrete ugliness of the city is hidden and all you can see are the lights, like billions of multi-coloured stars. It's nice weather outside; balmy and clear. Well, except for the smog but then that's always there. You get used to it. He sips at his drink, glancing at the three-quarter moon hanging in the sky, bathing the garden below in silver.

He hopes Cordy comes back soon because he's itching to tell her about his new celebrity crush. Seems like all he does these days is crush on people, not actually get anywhere with anybody. At odd times during the past he's had unrequited things for Angel, Wes and even Fred, though he's glad now nothing ever happened with any of them as they see each other all the time and it would be totally awkward knowing what they look like naked and vice versa. He realises that he only felt that way about his friends because they work so closely together and have developed a peculiarly tight bond. When you've been without a partner for long everybody around you tends to become more attractive. Hell, even Connor is starting to look kind of appealing to him with that slim teenage body and pouting red lips. When he's thinking inappropriate thoughts about that savage little punk that's when Lorne knows he really, REALLY needs to get laid. Preferably by someone /not/ living in this hotel. Everyone else here has romantically hooked up with another person at one time or the other but not Lorne.

Never Lorne.

He's always overlooked, dismissed in favour of the smarter guys, the hotter guys, the less-green and more-macho guys. Those guys get all the attention. Maybe one day he'll meet somebody more suited to him. Somebody that Lorne can call his own and smother with all the love and affection he has to give. So far, it just ain't happened but hey, there's always hope, right? If not, there's always sweet, sweet alcohol so he takes another swallow of his drink, feeling the warmth spreading into his belly and making him feel somewhat less lonely, his mind drifting back the handsome dark-eyed celeb whose aura he just intimately probed. He smiles to himself. Now, that was almost as good as sex. Almost...

A click in the room draws his attention and Lorne swivels around to find his door half open. He frowns slightly, thinking it mustn't have latched properly and goes back to shut it, pulling on the handle to make sure it's closed. Satisfied it won't pop open again, he turns back around.

There's a demon standing in front of him.

Lorne jumps in fright, the gin and tonic leaping out of his glass and sploshing down the front of one thigh, very near his crotch, the icy-cold liquid making him yell and jump again, this time lurching backwards and banging into a side table, knocking it over and sending a valuable lamp toppling towards the floor. Lorne unsuccessfully grabs for it and then slips on an ice cube, losing his balance and clumsily crashing sideways into the wall, finally sliding to the ground in a moaning lime and orange heap.

It seems Fred is still here because she comes rushing down the hall at all the noise and bursts in through the door. "Lorne, are you okay?" She crouches next to him, looking concerned. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. The only damage done was to my drink," Lorne groans, taking Fred's assistance to stand and brushing ineffectually at his sodden pants-leg. "Aw, it looks like I peed myself." He winces. "I might have a little bit, actually."

"What happened?" Fred asks, her chocolate eyes large with worry. "Did you fall over?"

"No, I wanted to redecorate," Lorne huffs, gesturing to his broken lamp and overturned table. "Oh, did I mention the sudden appearance of a strange demon in my room?"

"A what? Where?" Fred spins around, her long dark hair whirling around her as she searches the area.

"Try looking over there." Lorne points in the direction.

Fred does and just visible above the back of the couch is a pair of red eyes and horns.

"Oh my goodness!" She looks at Lorne and then back at the unidentified demon cringing behind the furniture. "It's a...a...one of you."

"Yeah, a Pylean. And apparently this one doesn't believe in knocking." Lorne glares at the unexpected visitor for scaring the poop out of him. The horns duck down a little lower.

"Is it dangerous?" Fred asks warily.

"I don't think so," Lorne grudgingly answers, grabbing a scarf and dabbing at the unattractive wet patch on his pants. "I mean, I was an easy target crumpled up on the floor like that but I didn't get jumped."

"So, what does it want?"

Throwing the now-damp scarf through the bathroom door, Lorne states decisively, "Let's go find out."

As Lorne and Fred approach the couch the demon scuttles backward, cowering in a corner like a trapped animal, arms raised as if to ward off an attack. Far from being an 'it', Lorne sees that his surprise house guest is a girl, a young one, and incredibly scrawny with a filthy, tattered Hessian robe, soot-smudged skin and long matted hair that's somewhere between brown and red; a bit difficult to distinguish with all the dirt in it. It looks like she's been living in the wild for a couple of years or perhaps in a cave. In fact, she looks a lot like Fred did when she was first discovered and this makes Lorne feel immediately protective of the poor Pylean lass. Plus she's scared as hell. Not only can Lorne see the fear in her body language and large round eyes, he can feel it empathically. But she's not frightened of him. It's something else.

"I am sorry for trespassing," the girl apologises anxiously, her voice low and husky, as if she's not used to speaking. "Please don't send me back there. I beg you!"

"It's okay, peaches. Nobody is sending anyone anywhere," Lorne soothes, holding his open hands up calmingly. "You just startled us what with the sneaking in unannounced and everything. We're not mad. I promise."

The she-demon stares at him and then at Fred, who's also doing her best to send out soothing, friendly vibes. The vibes start to work because the girl lowers her shielding arms.

"I'm Lorne. And this is Winifred Burkel," Lorne introduces, "but you can call her Fred."

Fred waves with a grin. "Hi. What's your name?"

The younger Pylean swallows and glances at Lorne who gives an encouraging nod.

"I am Kylarkmar of the Muthwok Clan," she finally reveals.

"Do you have something a little...less of a tongue-twisty mouthful?" Fred puts her thumb and forefinger close together.

In a hesitant tone, the demon replies, "K...Kylar."

"Well, Kylar. It's so nice to meet you," Fred enthuses. "Isn't it Lorne?"

"Absolutely," Lorne echoes. "And you're forgiven for breaking into my room. I've never had an intruder quite as cute as you before."

In spite of her scruffy, less-than-clean appearance, she has striking features; a pale green heart-shaped face with a delicate pattern of spots embossed around the hairline, temples and cheeks, a small upturned nose, large expressive eyes and a plump mouth the exact shade of wine. Her teeth are perfectly white and straight contrasted against her dark lips and she has the same kind of facial colouring that Lorne does but more subdued; smoky charcoal beneath the lower lids and violet over the entire eye socket area, accentuating her ruby irises and gorgeously long lashes. Her curved horns are a deep russet-brown and petite in size. She's way too skinny, like a walking skeleton, but definitely a hottie. All she needs is a bath and a few decent meals.

"Here, let me help you up," Lorne says kindly, offering the girl his hand. He sees Kylar start to reach out to him but then she spies the disgraceful state of her own earth-encrusted fingernails, abashedly retracting her hand and getting up by herself, self-consciously glancing down and burying her fists within the frayed folds of her stained robe.

"I know who you are, Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan," Kylar announces, bravely meeting his gaze.

Taken aback, Lorne returns, "You do?"

"Everyone knows who you are. I have heard talk. Mostly from your life-giver."

Thinking of his mother's reaction last time he dropped in for a visit, Lorne snorts, "Mostly bad, I'm guessing."

"She is glad you are gone," Kylar verifies. "And your brother Numfar frequently does the dance of joy."

Lorne rolls his eyes. "I bet he does, the squirmy maggot."

"But I did not share their merriment." Kylar's voice is soft and shy. "It saddened me when you left."

"Have we met before?" Lorne tilts his head questioningly at the second demon. "Because I'm sure I would have remembered someone as enchanting as you."

"We have never spoken. When you still lived on Pylea with your clan I was but a child from a neighbouring village. I had often watched you in secret," Kylar confesses with a downward glance. "Your voice would ring out across the fields when you thought nobody was near. I was the only one who did not think it was a terrible, ear-piercing cacophony."

Highly flattered, Lorne replies, "Aw, aren't you just the sweetest little stalker? By the way, how did you get off Pylea? It's not like you can just step on a bus and come to LA."

"The great whirling hole in the forest," Kylar tries to describe. "I saw you go through it with your human friends. In the big black wheeled carriage."

"We just call them cars here," Lorne helpfully spells out. "And the great whirling hole? A portal."

"I tried to follow you through the...the portal but it closed. I remembered the words you spoke, to make it open. I said them aloud but nothing happened."

"Once a portal has been invoked, it runs out of energy," Fred clarifies. "Needs time to recharge again."

"I had time," Kylar affirms. "I waited there every day, saying the words, just to see if it would open again. Today it did."

"But it's been over eighteen months since we last opened the portal." Fred frowns. "You've been waiting there in the forest this long?"

"I would have done anything to leave Pylea. I am different; I do not fit in there. I do not like violence or hunting and do not feast on animal flesh. I have spoken to humans and made pets of woodland creatures." Kylar looks to Lorne and then drops her eyes, not before Lorne spots the pained glint in them.

"Our people have been very unkind to me."

"I hear ya, kitty cat," Lorne says sympathetically, knowing exactly how cruel his own race could be. "Last time I was there, they cut my head off and sat it on a silver platter. Not exactly a place I ever want to set my four toes on again."

"Me either," Fred joins in. "Not about the four toes part...But I was stuck there for years. Went a little crazy. Wrote on walls a lot. That was until Angel rescued me. Along with Lorne and the others, of course," she quickly adds, glancing at the orange-suited demon who has his brow raised in indignation because he certainly helped, what with getting his noggin lopped off and his body almost dismembered so they could escape that freaking lice-infested hell hole.

"Angel the Great; the Drokken Slayer?" Kylar asks, plainly awe-struck, earning a twinge of jealousy from Lorne. "He is here?"

"You're standing in his home," Fred says with a smile, knowing how great an effect Angel's presence can have on a girl. "Well, our home too, since we live here. And he just goes by Angel now."

Hoping to turn Kylar off his brooding black-clad boss, Lorne declares, "You realise he's a blood drinker?"

"I know," Kylar returns, searching around for the honourable vampire champion but seeing naught except this dimly lit room with its bizarre objects and furniture. "When the portal opened, I went through and came out on the other side in a very strange place. All the places here are strange to me."

"Were you in a library?" Fred prompts. "A big room full of books?"

At Kylar's bewilderment, Lorne explains, "See, you aren't the first Pylean to get sucked through a portal. Apart from yours truly, of course. Last time it was my cousin Landok. He landed in the library. But there was also another inter-dimensional hotspot in my club, Caritas. Tables and chairs, a piano on stage, lots of mirrors. Do you recall seeing any of that?"

"Mirrors." Kylar thinks for a moment and then nods. "Yes, that's where I was. I looked for you but it was empty and dark. I went outside, into this noisy world of bright lights and a thousand scents. I asked questions of other demons, if they knew where to find one like me with a voice that can bring grown men to their knees. I was told to come here."

"Well, welcome to Los Angeles, Kylarkmar of the Muthwok Clan. Glad you could make it," Lorne says in delight. "Y'know, I think this is the first time I've been happy to see someone from my home world."

"I am thankful to be here," Kylar replies quietly and respectfully.

Lorne stares at the smaller demon, struck by both the level of maturity and poise she possesses for one so young and obviously traumatised. He quizzes, "How old are you, Kylar?"

"I have seen eighteen winters," Kylar informs him.

"You're just a baby," Fred exclaims.

"In Pylea I am of age. I am expected to mate, to produce spawn. But that is not what I wish for myself." Reluctantly, Kylar adds, "Also, nobody would take me as their life-bound partner."

"Really?" Fred scrunches up her face in perplexity. "Why not?"

Once again, Kylar looks down, as if hiding a deep shame. "I am not thought of as particularly...desirable."

"Well, that's just a load of baloney," Fred blurts in outrage, gesturing to the girl-demon. "Look at you! You're just the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."

"Uh, Fred," Lorne regretfully interrupts. "Unfortunately, Kylar is speaking the truth. My people have a screwed up sense of what's hot and what's not. I mean, my mother is considered a great beauty and have you SEEN her lately? In the dictionary next to the word 'colossal, warty, bearded behemoth' there should be a picture of her ugly mug." He shudders.

"Those ignorant morons back on Pylea don't even know what pretty is. There's not even a word for it in our language. What do you expect from people who don't have music or art?" He turns back to Kylar. "But in this world, sugar plum, you ARE considered attractive. With a capital A."

"He's right," Fred pipes up. "With those cheekbones and those lips, you could be a supermodel." She squints at Kylar's face. "Course, they might have to airbrush out the horns, though, and maybe use a lot of foundation..."

Kylar stares blankly at Fred. "What is a super-model?"

"We'll explain later," Lorne promises. "Right now we need to get you a bath and some clean clothes because that old robe is going straight in the incinerator." He sniffs disdainfully. "It still smells like that godawful place."

"A bath would be wonderful," Kylar admits. "On Pylea I could only take a quick dip in the stream when I was sure there were no spiked eels or flesh-eating leeches in the water. There are certain leaves and berries you can use as a skin scrub but I couldn't always find those."

"Don't worry. We have real soap here," Fred informs Kylar. "And hot water with no slimy, squirmy biting things. You can scrub away to your heart's content."

Fred and Lorne decide to take Kylar to Fred's bathroom because it's more feminine than Lorne's and she has all those perfumed shampoos, powders and lotions that girls like. As they lead the way, Kylar looks at the many doors leading to rooms off the hallway.

"Do other people live here as well?"

"Only a few; the ones you saw going through the portal with me. Oh, plus a kid but you probably won't see him much," Lorne replies casually, declining to bring up the confusing weirdness of Connor's presence at this early stage.

"Most of those rooms are empty," Fred elaborates. "This used to be a real fancy hotel once. It also used to be haunted. Not anymore, though. Angel took care of that."

"He can banish ghosts too?"

At Kylar's impressed tone, Lorne retorts, "Apparently, a two hundred year old dead guy can do a lot of things. I guess that's why they call him a champion."

"Is he truly dead? He doesn't appear to be," Kylar expresses doubtfully, recalling how powerful and full of fire Angel seemed when he duelled with the Groosalugg back on Pylea. Kylar saw that. Everybody saw that. It was the biggest thing to happen on the planet since the double eclipse two years ago.

"Oh, Angel's deader than a doornail. Got no heartbeat whatsoever," Fred volunteers. "He doesn't even breathe."

"Yeah, and his skin is as cold as ice," Lorne throws in. "He can't go in the sunlight, can't eat food, can't even have an intimate relationship with anyone in case he turns evil. Which he has, a couple of times. And, trust me, you don't want to be anywhere near him when that happens." He raises his brows for emphasis. "Sure, he's got the sexy broody thing going on but Angel has way too much baggage for a potential romantic partner, in my opinion."

Kylar gives Lorne a strange look and seems about to ask another question about the matter but they have arrived at Fred's room and she bustles Kylar inside, Lorne politely waiting out in the hall while the girls do girl business.

While Kylar gapes around in awe at all the colourful, shiny things, Fred runs the bath, filling it with warm water and adding a large dollop of foaming rose-scented gel, making sure there are plenty of fresh towels at hand and a comb for detangling. She looks at Kylar's long knotted hair, grubby skin and nails caked with dirt, sure the demoness will enjoy getting nice and clean after living in such squalor for so many months. Realising that Kylar has nothing else to wear apart from the ragged Hessian shawl, she returns to her wardrobe and selects some undergarments, a tan corduroy skirt and a soft pink sweater, bringing it all back to the bathroom and laying it on the vanity top.

Turning the faucets off and checking that the water isn't too hot, she gestures to the now-full and frothy bathtub and says to Kylar, "You hop in there, sweetie. Have a good soak. And see this stuff?" She holds up a plastic bottle with a flip-top lid. "It's called conditioner. Put it in your hair after you've washed it with shampoo – from this other bottle – and comb it through. Gets the tangles right out. When you're done, try these on." Fred motions to the clothing left on the bench.

"Tell me if they don't fit and I'll get something else, all right?"

Kylar nods gratefully. "Thank you for your gracious hospitality, Winifred Burkel of Los Angeles. It is very kind of you."

"You're very welcome." The brunette girl smiles. "And it's just Fred, okay?"

"Okay," Kylar replies tentatively. "Fred."

Leaving the Pylean alone to bathe, Fred shuts the door and wanders out into the corridor where Lorne is loitering, clearly thrilled to have a second demon in the hotel. Well, at least one that's not trying to kill them or lay eggs in their brains.

"Gosh, Lorne. She's adorable."

"Oh, I know." He squeezes Fred's arm excitedly. "Isn't she a doll?"

Fred gives him a coy look. "You /like/ her, don't you?"

"Well, who wouldn't?" Lorne grins, not denying it.

"I didn't think you were...um...interested...in girls," Fred ventures, blushing a little bit.

"Girls, boys. Demons, humans. It's all the same to me, strudel," Lorne declares unashamedly. "I like everyone for who they are, not what they are. Believe me, I got judged enough on Pylea for being the way I am. I don't ever want to do it to anyone else."

"Yeah. You're right," Fred muses. "It'll be nice to have another girl around the place, though. With you, Angel, Wesley, Gunn and Connor...me and Cordy are kind of outnumbered."

Lorne glances around. "Where is everyone else, anyway?"

"They went out for Thai food. I wasn't hungry." Fred shrugs.

"You? Not hungry? How is that even possible?" Lorne teases her, knowing about Fred's bottomless appetite. Fred shrugs again, this time grinning.

"I had a late afternoon snack. Well, kinda more like a whole bag of chocolate chip cookies. And a gallon of milk," she tacks on. "You can't have cookies without milk."

"See, you should be talking to Kylar about adopting eating habits like yours," Lorne recommends. "Poor little thing is nothing but a stick. She needs to learn how to swallow real food again."

"Totally," Fred agrees. "I thought I was the only stick around here. She actually makes me look curvy and voluptuous and that's saying something."

"Oh, Fredikins. You're perfect just the way you are," Lorne tells her honestly, smoothing back her lengthy brown hair with his hands.

"Thanks," Fred sighs, "but it'd still be nice to know what having breasts is like..."

Lorne and Fred chat in the corridor for a while until Fred decides to check that Kylar hasn't drowned or anything, going to the bathroom door and knocking politely.

"How are you doing in there, Kylar? Do you need help?"

The door opens a crack and Kylar peeks around it. Most of the tangles are out of her half-dried hair but there are still a few dreadlocks left, perhaps deliberately. They are spaced evenly on either side, in amongst the other waves of burgundy. That must be how Kylar wore it, Fred thinks, before she ended up in a cave with no comb or hairbrush.

"I may require some assistance," Kylar apologetically answers, holding up the bra Fred left on the counter. "What is this and where does it go?"

Smiling understandingly, Fred replies, "It goes underneath your...I'll just show you. Can I come in?"

Kylar hesitates and then nods shyly, opening the door wider, the pretty demon standing there with a towel wrapped around her narrow waist and another one around her shoulders.

"Here, let's move this down a little," Fred suggests, starting to lower the towel in order to slip the bra under it, mindful of not exposing Kylar or making the girl embarrassed. At the lack of cleavage under the fluffy material, Fred frowns slightly.

"Gee, you've got even less than I..." Suddenly, Fred halts, her gaze jerking upward, eyes round. "Oh. Oh my."

Perplexed, Kylar spreads the towel open further, glancing down and then back at Fred. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing," Fred says quickly, giving a strained smile. "Please excuse me for one eency weency moment, would you?" Not waiting for Kylar's agreement, Fred swings around and leaves the bathroom, hurriedly shutting the door behind her.

"Lorne! You better get your green butt over here!"

Rushing into her room, Lorne answers, "It's here already. What's with the urgent tone?" He looks inquiringly at the closed door Fred is standing in front of and then at the young Texan woman herself. Fred's elfin face is fraught with anxiety.

"We have a little problem." She re-thinks that, admitting instead, "Well, not so much a problem as a kind of...unexpected surprise."

"Is this a good surprise or the bad variety?" Lorne asks cautiously.

"I...you should just see for yourself." Fred knocks first, giving Kylar warning, and then opens the door. Kylar is hiding behind it, uneasily peering around at Fred and Lorne.

"Did I offend you in some way?" Kylar worriedly enquires of Fred. "Or was it the sight of my sunken chest that repulsed you?"

"No, honey. It's not that at all," Fred replies gently. "You can come out. C'mon. It's all right."

Kylar slowly steps out from behind the door, minus one of the towels. The remaining one is wrapped around the younger demon's tiny waist and Lorne's keen eye notices three things straight away.

1) Those thin arms are like twigs.
2) Every single rib is painfully showing.
3) Kylar's chest is not only sunken but flatter than a surfboard.

So flat, in actual fact, that it ceases to be a girl's chest at all.

Kylar gives the padded bra a poke, looking uncertainly at it. "Is this some kind of torso armour?"

Normally equipped with a witty one-liner on the worst of occasions, this time Lorne can't think of a thing to say. Not a single damn thing. He gives Kylar what is meant to be a reassuring smile but it comes out more like a grimace.

"We'll be right back."

Closing the door again, Lorne hastily drags Fred outside into the hall, wheeling around to stare at her with an incredulous expression. "Fred? Did I just see what I thought I saw?"

"Surprise." She grins nervously at him. "Good thing you like boys too, huh?"

"Oh, for crying out loud. I'm supposed to be an Empath!" Lorne exclaims. "She's a HE! How on earth could I miss something like that?"

"Well, it was hard to tell," Fred offers. "I mean, his features are extraordinarily fine. For a boy demon. And that loose robe...you can't see what shape anyone is under that." She makes a pitying face. "Not that he actually has much in the way of a shape, being so dreadfully bony and all."

"Of course, his parents had to give him one of those indeterminate unisex names," Lorne says in disgust, more at himself for not noticing earlier. "Kylarkmar is to us like what Taylor or Casey is here. It can be used by anybody."

He groans in humiliation, dropping his face into his palm and rubbing his forehead.

"Don't I feel like a big, green idiot?"

Fred pats his arm compassionately. "Never mind. The main thing is, at least we know now. And at least we can dress him more suitably." Her eyes brighten. "Hey, he's about the same size as Connor. We can borrow some clothes off him. He should be back from hunting by now."

Raising his brow, Lorne comments, "Do you think that's a good idea; asking junior for a favour? We all know how he feels about us horned, non-humans. In fact, he probably decapitated a couple of us tonight."

"I'm sure he can spare a pair of jeans and a top. Angel bought him tons of them. C'mon, let's get Kylar and go ask."

When they return to the bathroom, Kylar is still standing there, peering at the bra and turning it over in his hands, trying to figure out what it is. Fred takes it off him, saying apologetically, "You won't be needing this anymore."

Kylar glances between the two of them, Fred and Lorne, puzzled as to what is going on.

"This is called a bra," Fred starts in explanation of the lacy object in her hand. "It's an undergarment worn by females to support their..." She peeks down at her own small breasts and then shamefacedly back up at Kylar. "Except you don't have any."

Standing there bare-chested, and very much flat-chested too, Kylar looks bemusedly at himself and then peers at the lumps underneath Fred's checked shirt for comparison. Finally getting it, the younger demon blinks and questions, "You thought I was a female?"

"Fred wasn't the only one," Lorne admits sheepishly. "You sure fooled us, chickpea."

"But why would you believe that?"

"Well, here in this dimension, you're what's called androgynous. It means you look kind of like our girls do. Which is not a bad thing," Lorne rapidly adds at Kylar's apprehensive expression. "A pretty face like yours on a boy like you...it makes you very special."

"I am not special," Kylar automatically denies, eyes lowering to the tiled floor as he remembers all the scornful names his own people called him for the way he looked, all the taunts and jeers. That's why he grew his hair long; so he could hide his deformed ugliness behind it.

"Whatever they said to you, Kylar, whatever they told you," Lorne firmly interjects, "don't you believe it for one second longer. You're not on Pylea anymore. You're here. In my world."

He steps forward, reaching out and placing his fingers under Kylar's chin, forcing the timid teenager to look up and meet his gaze. Kylar's now-clean face is porcelain-perfect, freckles showing through on clear pastel green skin, darker green dots edging around his brow and curving beneath his cheekbones, emphasising the exquisitely angular shape of them. His hair is still damp but it is untangled and frames his features with rippling waves of reddish-purple that fall halfway down his back, the thin twisted dreads adding texture and interest. The colour of his horns is not dulled by dust as before; the two small points gleaming like polished mahogany wood.

"And in my world you're beautiful," Lorne finishes softly.

Kylar stares up at Lorne for a long moment, drowning in the taller demon's serious scarlet eyes, startled as he realises Lorne actually thinks that. From one Empath to another, Lorne allows Kylar to feel his thoughts, to feel his admiration and approval, and for the first time Kylar starts to think that perhaps what his fellow Pylean says is true, that perhaps his birth was not a hideous mistake of nature. Perhaps he was meant to look like this for a reason, perhaps he was meant to turn out the way he did. With the intense manner that Lorne is concentrating on him, and only him, Kylar starts to think that perhaps he really is special.

Perhaps even special enough to be with Lorne.

Clearly sensing the magnetism between the two demons even though she herself is not empathic, Fred clears her throat uncomfortably and ventures, "Should I...leave the room?"

Dropping his hand and shaking his head as if to clear it from a haze, Lorne answers, "I think we should /all/ leave the room. Find this boy some more gender-appropriate clothing. Not that you wouldn't look great in a skirt, sweetie," here Lorne glances at Kylar, "but we can't have you walking around looking like that, not in this town, or you'll find yourself in all kinds of trouble. Some guy called Maurice with gold teeth and a neck full of jewellery would end up becoming your pimp."

"Pimp?" Kylar frowns. "I am unfamiliar with that term."

"Let's keep it that way, okay? Here, put this on for the moment," Fred advises, passing Kylar a plain white bath robe to cover his malnourished body.

"We're going to go visit Connor."

A/N: So, I couldn't think of anyone in the show to pair Lorne with and make it believable so I've created a character of my own. Is anybody interested in this pairing? If so, I'll post more! Thanks for reading this far! :)