The House Always Wins

Part One

The man stumbled out of the abandoned warehouse, clutching at his arm. It was bleeding - he had been injured in the fight. But, when he got out to the alley, the guy was there. Already. The guy who was trying to kill him. 'How did you…?' the man asked, 'nothing human could move that fast.'

'Well I aint human, bud,' Doyle replied, morphing into his spikes. He headbutted the man, who stumbled backwards and then regained his footing. When he came back up, he was vamped out. 'And neither are you,' the Irishman said, 'which is why we gotta problem.' He hit out with his right arm, but the vampire caught it and threw the half demon away from himself. Doyle staggered back, but the vampire did not give him time to recover. It knocked him to the ground and then loomed over him - mouth open - fangs exposed - ready to bite.

Doyle stared up at the vampire, fearfully. This was it. He'd finally lost the good fight. To some dumb, run of the mill vampire. So this was how it ended. He closed his eyes and whispered a brief farewell to Cordelia … but the bite never came. Instead, he heard the unmistakable sound of a vampire turning to dust.

He opened his eyes again and stared up - looking to see who had come to his rescue. As the cloud of dust cleared, Doyle's mouth dropped open in shock.

'Your Majesty,' the Groosalug bowed low to the downed half demon, 'it was an honour to vanquish that vantal and save your life.' Doyle just continued to stare.


'So what do we do now?' asked Fred, through a mouthful of her Chinese takeout. She looked across at her boyfriend, her vampire boss - who dandled Connor on his knee, and at Cordelia. 'We've spent so long workin' on getting Angel back - and getting Connor back. Now we're all back together - now what?'

'Well, it might have passed you by, Fred, but we do have a business to run and bills to pay,' Cordelia pointed out to her. She fished a water chestnut out of her carton and handed it across to Angel, 'here, Connor likes these.' The vampire took it with a smile and began to feed the water chestnut to his infant son.

'Right - the business - we gotta get that up and sputtering again. But, don't ya think maybe we ought to have a plan? Like - a long term plan - for what we do next?'

'Kill the vampires, slay the nasties and save the damsels - been workin' for us fine for years,' Gunn said to her.

'Yeah, but,' the woman glanced at Cordelia and looked uncomfortable, 'we always had - direction - before, I guess, someone tellin' us what to do, now…'

'Fred's right,' Angel agreed, looking up from his son, 'I think maybe it's time we got away - the four of us … five of us. Give ourselves some space to reflect on where we're headed.'

'What - you mean like a spiritual retreat?' Fred asked.

'Exactly.'

'Whoa - you mean like that monastery you went to in Tibet?' Gunn sounded sceptical.

'Exactly,' the vampire repeated - smiling.


The car cruised down The Strip - past the bright lights - flashing and neon. 'Woah,' Gunn smiled as he looked around, 'this is my idea of a spiritual retreat!'

'I just thought we could all use a little getaway to decompress,' Angel told his friends - as he navigated driving the convertible down the busy road. 'I know I haven't had a vacation in a while. Not counting my recent ocean cruise.'

Cordelia smiled at him from the front seat, she held Connor on her knee and was snuggling him close. 'This is gonna be so great,' she enthused. 'I haven't had a proper vacation since the time I went skiing in Aspen one Christmas. That was last century! A couple of months later, the IRS caught up with my folks and then it was adios exotic getaways … and car, and house and … everything nice.' Her face wrinkled up, as she remembered - but Angel glanced across at her and smiled. 'Yeah - but look where it got you. Me, you, Connor, Vegas - it's gonna be a party!' Cordelia burst out laughing.

'Yeah, but the reason we're here is to see Lorne, right?' Fred said from the backseat - she leaned forwards so that they could hear her upfront.

'Absolutely,' Angel agreed, 'then maybe afterwards we can check out that Danny Gans guy we keep seeing billboards for,' he pointed to one such bright sign. Cordelia snorted, 'what a dork,' she muttered.

'You mean after Lorne reads you and helps you back onto your path?' Fred clarified.

'Yeah … whatever…' Angel didn't share the woman's enthusiasm at the thought of him singing and having his destiny read. Right now he was just enjoying being back with Connor and Cordy … truth be told, he didn't really want to know what awful thing was no doubt headed his way. He just wanted to enjoy this moment, whilst everything was still good. He glanced around, as he was driving, and whistled, 'wow this place has sure changed.'

Gunn leaned forward to talk to him, then, 'get out! You never said you'd been to Vegas before.'

'He's, like, a million years old,' Cordelia rolled her eyes, 'he's been everywhere before - and has a thousand dull tales to tell about it.' She deepened her voice, mimicking the vampire, 'when I was in Minnesota in the 1840s I stalked this woman; when I was in Paris in the 1790s I stalked this woman. I stalked this woman all the way to the Bermuda triangle...'

Fred and Gunn laughed - and Angel gave her a withering look, she returned a wide eyed and innocent smile. 'Well, I didn't stalk anyone in Vegas,' he told them all, 'this was once I had a soul.'

'Gee, 'cause you never stalk women when you have one of those,' Cordelia said. He glowered at her, again, and she raised her hands in defeat. 'I'm listening!' she said, 'tell us - oh old one - about your wild days, back in the day, here in sin city.'

'Back then,' he pointed to the bright lights and hotels on the right, 'this was all dunes.'

'Party,' Cordelia snickered.

Gunn laughed as well, 'man, you haven't been here in a while! They pulled the Dunes down ten years ago.'

It was Angel's turn to laugh. 'Not the casino,' he corrected, 'sand dunes. Bugsy used to call them bug piles.'

'Bugsy?' Gunn sounded incredulous, 'Bugsy Siegal?'

Cordelia turned to look back at the street fighter, 'who's Bugsy Siegal?' she asked, wrinkling her nose.

'Gangster - big time - he pretty much single handed built The Strip.' He turned to look at Angel, 'you used to run with Bugsy Siegal?'

'Not one for words - but he had a mean backhand on the tennis court.'

'Boy - you were really letting that soul get in the way of a good time back in the day, huh? Gangsters, tennis, casinos, sand dunes … I can just feel the torment.' Cordelia was staring at him, as she spoke. This was a side of Angel she'd never really heard of before - hadn't imagined. All she'd ever known was evil or tortured. But this guy … he sounded … fun.

Angel decided it was time to change the topic, 'uh - so what should we do first?' he asked.

'Finding a place to stay so that Connor can get some shut eye wouldn't go amiss,' Cordelia told him, she jigged the baby on her knee, 'he is way overstimulated - we need somewhere quiet and dark.'

'Man - we live in the quiet and dark - I want bright and loud,' Gunn protested.

'Well, the place Lorne is playing is called the Tropicana,' Fred said, looking down at the leaflet she had printed off the net. Gunn and Angel both turned to look at her. 'The Tropicana?' her boyfriend asked, 'THE Tropicana? That can't be right.'

'Why not?'

'The Tropicana is a pretty high profile casino,' Angel told her, 'not some low key out of the way dive. Looking the way Lorne looks, he'd have to go someplace a little bit more, you know, discreet.'

They stopped at a red light, right by a billboard and Fred stared up at it. 'Uh - how discreet exactly?' she asked. The others turned to look. There was a twenty foot picture of Lorne, lounging against a velvet background. The scrolling green letters underneath read: Lorne, the green velvet fog.


Fred and Gunn sat excitedly in the theatre - waiting for Lorne to make his big appearance. Cordy and Angel were upstairs in the room, they would catch the second show - whilst Fred and Gunn took over babysitting duty. 'I just can't believe this,' the street fighter shook his head, 'Lorne headlining a place like this? How can…' The curtains opened and the stage was filled with dancing girls; painted green and wearing large, red horns. They each carried a feathered fan and strutted around the stage, performing an elaborate dance, as the audience began to clap along in time. The atmosphere was electric - and the young couple grinned at each other in anticipation.

The dancing girls moved in a circle until they were all clustered in the centre of the stage. They each held their fan up and began to shake it, forming a screen. Right in the centre of the cluster, Lorne suddenly rose from the stage floor, sitting on a stool - holding a mic, and wearing a sequinned dinner jacket. He raised the microphone - as the feathered fans trailed away, leaving him alone in the spotlight. 'It's not that easy being green…'


'There, I think he's down for the night,' Angel said walking into the living area of their room, where Cordelia waited for him. 'Just drank down his whole bottle and then was out like a…' he trailed off. Cordelia wasn't sitting down, as he had expected - watching T.V or flicking through a magazine. She was stood up - and her body language was awkward; nervous.

'What is it?' he asked her. She took a deep breath and stiffened her spine. 'I think we should finally talk.'


The crowd went wild with applause. 'No one seems bothered by the fact that he's a demon,' Gunn said over the deafening clapping, leaning in so Fred could hear him. She didn't even tear her eyes away from the stage, as she answered. 'They must just think it's makeup - like the Blue Man group.' She suddenly wrinkled her brow in consternation, '..wait - you don't think the Blue Man group …?'

'Oh, but Green's the colour of spring.'


'Uh - talk?' Angel lowered his prominent brow, 'about…?'

'We were supposed to - you know - talk - that night out on the bluffs.'

'Oh,' he looked awkward, 'that talk.'

She nodded - and took a step closer towards him. 'There were so many things that we never got the chance to say to each other. And now - it's like we have a second chance. And I know how the world works, Angel, second chances don't come around that often. If you want something - you have to reach out and take it.'

'And …' he took another step towards her, 'you want... something … me?'


The song came to an end and Lorne got to his feet. Behind him, the red curtains closed and the spotlight followed him as he moved towards the edge of the stage. 'Thank you,' he said to the audience, 'thank you so much. You know, I gotta tell you folks, you are by far the kickingest crowd that I've had the privilege of performing for here at the Tropicana. Now, you know what, just for you guys - I think it's time we crank things up a notch …' He took off his bow tie and handed it to a woman on the front row, 'here you go, honey,' then he unbuttoned his top two buttons.

He pointed to his orchestra, 'maestro can we have some drums sil vous plait?' The drums started up. 'Paco - gimme a little bass, merci merci… now all I need is a little help from my Lornettes.' The green dancing girls came out onto the stage and began to sing, 'hey sister, go sister, soul sister, flow sister…'

Lorne jumped down off the stage into the aisle. Fred screamed and clapped her hands like an excited fan. Gunn stared at her in bemusement. 'He's very good,' she said, embarrassed.

Lorne was singing the verse, walking through the audience - working the crowd. As he got to the final line of the verse he stopped and put the mic in front of a well dressed man sat by the aisle. The man looked nervous, 'creole lady marmalade', he sang nervously - and then laughed self deprecatingly.

'Wow wow wow,' Lorne sang in response, moving away. 'Voulez vous coucher avec moi, c'est soir.' He put the microphone in front of a middle aged woman - and her voice wobbled as she sang the line back to him. The singing demon gave the woman a kiss and then walked back on through the crowd - still singing - heading closer towards Fred and Gunn.


'Is this crazy?' Cordelia asked, taking another step towards the vampire, 'this is crazy isn't it… I mean,... with Connor - and the curse and…'

'It's crazy,' Angel told her, 'but it feels right. I've lived a long time, Cordelia, and I know that it's the chances that you don't take that you end up regretting. Not the ones that you do.'

They were barely inches apart now, gazing into each other's eyes. 'But - it's us,' Cordelia whispered, 'Angel, you're my best friend - you're always there when I need you. You've changed my life in just so many ways.'

'That's exactly how it is for me too, Cordy - but with you, I mean,' he said. 'I was a mess before you came into my life … I've been a mess a whole lot of the time. But you keep me steady, keep me grounded. Your friendship means more to me than I can say and … when you get to a certain point - these feelings. They become inevitable.'

She stared up at him, barely breathing. 'So you do feel feelings? For me?'

'I do … do you?'


'Oh here he comes!' Fred squealed as Lorne came closer. 'He is gonna plotz when he sees us.'

'Just as long as he doesn't shove that mic in my face,' Gunn grumbled. Fred giggled, 'Oh come on, Charles. It's all in fun. Besides - you have a nice voice.'

'Yeah - well you can do it if you want but I'm not in the mood to…'

The demon walked past their table without looking at them.

'He just walked right by,' Fred looked downcast and disappointed.

'Oh…' Gunn also looked let down, 'well, good.'


The two of them were now stood so close they were practically touching. Cordelia's breathing was heavy and her cheeks were flushed - and the signs of her excitement were intoxicating to the vampire. 'I feel - definite feelings,' she told him, gazing upward. She had never had to gaze upward with Doyle - he was the same height as her. She closed her eyes, shaking her head and concentrating on the man in front of her, instead of the one she was moving away from. 'But this is a big risk to take.'

'It's a risk I want to take.'

'Me too … but…'

'We can go slowly,' he whispered to her, 'we don't have to rush … anything.' She nodded at his words, and he took hold of her hand, squeezing it gently. As their skin brushed against each other - it was like a spark of electricity passed between them. They both glanced down at where their hands were clasped, and then looked back into each other's eyes.

There was one, breathless, moment and then Angel leaned down and pressed his lips against Cordelia's. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer and opened her lips. Their kiss deepened - and then Angel scooped Cordelia into his arms and carried her over to the couch.


'Just say creole lady marmalade!' Lorne belted into his mic. Then he turned to the young woman he had stopped in front of and held the microphone out to her. 'Ya ya da da' she sang, her voice wobbling. She giggled and put her hands on her hips. 'Giuchie giuchie yay ya hey!' she did a little wiggle and both her and Lorne laughed.

'All right!' Lorne said into the microphone. 'Well you're just a tickle me cutie. What's your name, peach pie?' he pointed the mic back at her. 'Vivian,' she giggled. Her friends cheered her and Lorne smiled down at them. 'Aw Viv, looks like you've got a little celebration going on here.'

'Going away party, actually,' she smiled.

'Going away? We've only just met! Where are you going?'

'Paris,' she told him, 'I was just accepted into a culinary school there.'

Lorne raised his eyebrows, looking surprised, and then addressed the rest of the audience. 'How about that? How about sending a little good will to our chef of the future?' The crowd all cheered and Vivian sat down, blushing. 'And Vivian I've only got one thing to say to you: giuchie giuchie ya ya da da,' he took up the song once more and walked back through the crowd - headed for the stage.


Doyle flipped the light of his motel room on and then ushered the Groosalug inside. He motioned to the ratty old armchair, and the champion sat down in it. Then the half demon got out two battered mugs and poured a slug of scotch into each one. He handed one to the other man. 'So - uh - gruesome slug … Groosalug, uh - what brings you to this dimension? Not that I'm unhappy to see y' or anythin - especially not with y' timin' tonight. Thanks, by the way.'

'It was my honour, Majesty,' the Groosalug bowed his head at Doyle, and then took a sniff of the contents of his mug. He pulled a face, but tried to drink some anyway. It burned as he drank it, and the taste was unusual and unpleasant. His handsome face screwed up in disgust, but then he quickly remembered himself and smiled. 'Most delicious!' he said. He raised the mug in a toast, 'hail to you, noble Majesty.'

Doyle raised his mug back at him, 'cheers, now about why you're here…?'

'Ah - yes - I have come to seek your wise counsel, my Lord.'

The Irishman looked nonplussed, 'my wise counsel? … I'm an idiot!'

'Throughout your tenure as King of my lands you ruled mercifully and with great wisdom. This past year I have often looked to your example and often found myself asking, 'what would King FrancisDoyle of the Brachen clan do in such a situation?''

'Get drunk?' Doyle suggested. But the champion paid him no heed. 'Alas - the high standards that you guarded me to keep have proved impossible to uphold,' he admitted, 'great trouble has broken out in Pylea.'

'Things aren't too great at the minute, here, either,' the half demon admitted.

'At first - all was well. Marelda, my chosen consort was a great comfort and guide to me - as her radiance was to you…'

Doyle sighed to himself, sadly, 'yep,' he said, softly.

'But - in truth, I never held Marelda's heart. In the end - she left me for a fellow palace cow that she had long loved. What could I do?' The Groosalug smiled, sadly. 'In her absence, I struggled to rule as wisely as I might. The tedium of the council chamber, after a lifetime on the battlefield, it was too much to bear. The people turned against me…'

'They'll do that,' Doyle nodded.

'Endless committees were formed. Committees splintered into factions, the factions into coalitions, the coalitions into sub-committees. Until finally, the more radical element - spurred on by a charismatic leader - did the dance of revolution.'

'And so you hopped a portal over here?'

The Groosalug nodded, 'to seek out your noble self. You are the true king of Pylea - you bear the pure sight. You can tell me what must be done. You still have the visions to guide you.'

The Irishman looked awkward, 'yeah - right - the visions… look, bud, I don't know what to tell y'. Truth be told - I'm kinda in a mess myself. Cordelia - my chosen consort - well, she sorta unchose me. She left. I screwed up - I'm fallin' apart. I'm the last fella y' want to be comin' to for advice.'

The Groosalug's handsome face wrinkled up into a frown on consternation. 'But will your visions not tell you what to do for the best?'

Doyle took a deep breath - but was then saved from answering by his phone beginning to ring. 'Hold that thought,' he said, and flipped his cell open, 'yello?' A panicked voice buzzed in his ear, and frown lines began to form on his brow. 'Hold up, hold up … Mr. Nabbit? Is that you?'


Fred and Gunn stood out in the corridor, with a whole crowd of excited fans, waiting for Lorne to make his appearance. 'That was just - wow - wasn't it!' Fred enthused, 'with those laser lights and those Lornette girls and hello! 30 piece orchestra!'

'Yeah, but I still don't get why he dissed us during the singalong,' Gunn muttered - more to himself than to Fred. But she caught his words and gave him a look. 'It's just nice to be asked is all!' he defended himself.

The door opened and Lorne came out, flanked by a bodyguard. 'There he is!' Fred enthused - jumping up and down. The rest of the crowd were jumping up and down and yelling, as well - Lorne was a hit in Vegas. 'Hey, how're you doing?' Lorne said as he passed the fans by - giving them a casual wave and a smile. 'Lorne! It's us!' Fred yelled.

'Hey - love ya!' the demon said - still moving away.

'We love you too…' the woman cut herself off and looked back at her boyfriend, 'that was just him being superficial wasn't it?'

Gunn frowned, 'Lorne!' he yelled, 'hey, Lorne!' But the demon walked away without looking back.

'Did he not see us?' Fred asked, sounding concerned.

'Don't see how he could have missed us.'

...

'Who were your friends?' the bodyguard asked Lorne, as they walked down the corridor. 'What friends?... oh, they were just some old fans of mine.' His voice was bored and disinterested. They entered into the dressing room - there were two more security guards outside the door. The doors had green stars on with Lorne's name written in them in curly gold writing. As the double doors swung behind them - the security guards moved so they were blocking the entrance once more.


Lorne sat in front of his dressing room mirror. A Lornette brought him a drink and he thanked her. She left and he swigged the shot. Then he took off his jacket and poured himself a martini. The doors opened, again, and a short man with thinning hair came in. 'Excuse me Lorne, I don't wanna disturb you,' his tone was almost deferential, 'but that was…' he blew a kiss, 'mwah,' his voice turned flattering, 'there just aren't words … genius - that's what you are.'

'I'm kinda tired, Lee,' Lorne said to the small man, turning from him. But Lee wasn't willing to give up talking just yet. 'Well of course you are - out there giving one hundred - one hundred and fifty percent. That's why you're the king, baby, and I'm just so lucky to have a talent like you at my casino. Look I don't wanna take up any more of your valuable time…'

The bodyguard took out a piece of paper and held it out to the demon. 'Can we do this later?' Lorne asked, taking a sip of his martini.

Lee inhaled. 'Gee, Lorne, I'd love to. But you got another show to prepare for. And I got things to do.'

'Yeah, but later would be so much better.'

The bodyguard punched Lorne in the stomach and the demon doubled over in pain. Then Lee got up into his face, menacingly. 'I think now is a good time,' he said, 'or should we pink slip another girl from your act?'

Lorne looked defeated and looked at the piece of paper. It was a plan of the auditorium. He pointed to where the man in the suit had been seated - this fella had a two term Nevada senatorship coming up in 12 years. He pointed to table twelve. The boy in the green sweater, who had been sitting there, was going to write a Pulitzer winning novel. Then he pointed to Vivian's seat. She was going to have three five star restaurants in the next ten years.

'What else?' Lee asked.

But Lorne shook his head - that was all he had seen - all the remarkable destinies he had been able to read out there.

'OK, well that's terrific, you're a prince.' Lee got up to leave. 'Now if there's anything else my staff can provide for your comfort, just say the word.' He clicked a button on a remote control he held in his hand. 'Have a terrific second show.' He walked away down the corridor - and a set of prison bars slammed down in the doorway - locking Lorne inside his dressing room.