It had only been a year since he'd last seen the Fang Gang, but to Marek that year had seemed like an eternity. The last job he'd taken had landed him in more hot water than he'd ever believed possible. Now that it was over, the last twelve months of his life could have been a Tarantino movie -- one he was not anxious to see again.

And that was the very reason he found himself standing on the stoop of the Hyperion Hotel. He needed some downtime, but not so much that he got bored, and he really wanted to see a friendly face again. It'd been so long he'd practically forgotten what one looked like.

Instead of using his abilities to sneak in unnoticed, he decided to do it the old fashioned way and walked in. The sight that greeted him was neither unexpected nor unpleasant, though it wasn't exactly a friendly face.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He didn't bother to bite back his grin. "Hello, Cordelia." The lobby was empty but for her, and he could only wonder where the others were. The look on her face made him wonder if he should be envious of their absence.

"Don't you 'hello Cordelia' me! You up and leave for a year with hardly a word, and just when I'm lulled into a false sense of hope, you come back again?"

"What can I say? I just couldn't stay away. So, no hug?"

He watched as amusement and annoyance flashed in her big dark eyes, and as she fought for annoyance to win. Finally she replied, "How 'bout I don't throw you out instead?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "You're as enchanting as ever, Cordelia." Coming out from behind the counter, she snorted. "And you're as deluded as ever." Playing along, he questioned her meaning. "You actually think you're charming," she replied with a smirk.

"Oh, you wound me," he said dramatically, clutching at his chest in feigned hurt. "Seriously, though, you look great. How's life?"

"Same as ever. Visions, demons, bills, the usual. Been trying to talk Angel into expanding the business, but he's being stubborn. The others are on board so we should be able to wear him down soon enough. What about you?"

Memories, painful ones, flooded his mind and he frowned. "Things haven't been great, but they're looking up now. So why don't you tell me about your business plan?" He was the master of evasion, and this time was no exception as Cordelia started outlining her plans for the future of the agency. The more she spoke, the more he liked. It was a great idea -- which gave him one. Apparently the only thing really holding Angel back was hiring new (innocent and untrustworthy) people.

"You know, I'm in between jobs right now, so if you need an extra man, I'm available. Plus, I've got more than enough experience." He'd done everything from body-guarding to bounty hunting to mercenary work. Working security would be a vacation after all that. She didn't know the dirty details of his past -- none of them did, really -- but she knew enough to consider the idea.

"All right," she said slowly, beginning to like his offer. "I'll talk to Angel when he gets back."

"Where is everyone, anyway? The kids?"

"Angel and Gunn are out on a case; Wes and Fred went out for lunch, and I don't know where Lorne went. As for the kids, they're in school"

His brows skyrocketed at that. "School? Already? They're so-"

"Young? They're five in a couple of weeks."

He would have asked if the thought of her babies growing up was a depressing one but she would have just laughed, that he was certain of. "So they're all in school. I bet they love it."

"Yes and no. Most kids don't have really exciting lives -- I mean, how many can say their Dad's a vampire? They like having other kids to play with though."

"Well I can't wait to see them. It's been a long time." He was surprised by how much he did want to see Cordelia's children. They were just so innocent, so free of any of the ugliness that had plagued him over most of his life, and that was something he rarely got to experience.

Cordelia shrugged and returned to the computer behind the desk. "Libby's in the playroom if you want to say hi. She stayed home sick. Just go down that hallway, second door on the left."

Following her instructions, Marek found the playroom easily enough. It was large, painted in a pastel yellow. Toys of all kinds littered the space, and in the center of the room was Libby, lying on her stomach on an oversized cushion on the floor as she watched cartoons on the TV that stood only a few feet from her face. Her pajama-clad legs swung back and forth as she chewed on the straw in her juice box.

"Hi there," he said after a moment. The little girl glanced over her shoulder and looked him up and down. "Hi." Apparently she found him, a six-foot, blue-skinned, white-haired half-demon, more interesting than her show because she sat up and turned her attention fully on him. "Who are you?" She asked around the straw in her mouth.

"My name's Marek," he said, joining her on the floor. "You don't remember me, but I've known you since you were a baby."

"You're a demon." It was more a statement of fact than question, and he liked her directness, knowing it was something only children could pull off unscathed. "Yes, I am. Well, half anyway."

Tilting her head to the side, she continued to stare at him with wide, moss-green eyes. Instead of allowing himself to be unnerved by a four-year-old, he stared right back, not caring how childish it was.

"You're like Nightcrawler," she said after a moment.

"Nightcrawler?" The name rang a faint bell, but not one he could place.

"From X-Men," she explained. "He's blue too."

"You like X-Men?"

She nodded, a few strands of her long dark hair falling out of her loose braid in the process. "Yep. Do you have any powers?"

The question caught him off-guard. Realistically he knew she was probably equating him with characters in the movie, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more behind it. Making a snap decision that he hoped he wouldn't regret later, Marek decided to tell Libby what he could do.

"Do you know what a chameleon is?" She shrugged, and he took it for a no. Deciding that showing her would be much easier than explaining, he concentrated on the surroundings. When Libby's eyes widened, he smiled. It wasn't often that he got to show off.

"You can turn invisible?" She gasped. "Cool!"

"Actually, I'm not invisible. I can just make myself look the same as anything I want. Like the wall. I can turn the exact same colour as the wall and then you can't see me. That's just like what a chameleon does."

"Kind of like Mystique?"

He hadn't the faintest idea who Mystique was, and either she was astute enough to pick it up, or just didn't feel like waiting. "She can make herself look like anybody she wants -- even boys." He raised a brow in surprise. He didn't know how many kids her age could have made that connection, and he was impressed. "Kind of, yeah. So you really like X-Men, huh?"

"Uh huh. Mystique's my favourite. Whenever we play Superheroes I'm always her. Caleb says she doesn't count 'cause she's a bad guy, but I never listen to him."

"Well every superhero needs an enemy," he agreed. She nodded, a fierce look of determination on her face. "That's what I said, but he's stupid. He thinks Ivy can't be Spiderman just 'cause she's a girl."

"That's not very fair. Who does he play?"

"Dad." The amount of contempt that went with the reply was more than he'd seen on a few adults. He could only assume she meant Angel, but he figured it was her brother that her distaste was directed at.

"So, how do you like school?"

"Good."

"Is it hard?"

She shook her head. "My teacher's teaching us the alphabet, but I already know it. Daddy and Auntie Fred taught us when we were smaller. We can already read a little bit."

"Wow." His own childhood had been spent playing with his friends from dawn 'til dusk in the small demon community where his mother had raised him and his sister. School hadn't been high on his list of priorities.

"So what do you want for your birthday? It's coming up, right?"

Her face lit up at the mention of her birthday. "I want a kitty. Mom said maybe, but I'm gonna get it."

"Really," he said, amused. She was so damn sure of herself. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I saw Mommy looking in the phone book at pet stores. I even know what I'm going to name her already."

"What's that?"

"Selina."

"That's a pretty name. Where'd you hear it?"

"It's Catwoman's name. Her real one, anyway. Sometimes I'm her when we play Superheroes, too."

Rocking back on his heels, Marek shook his head with a laugh. "You are one very observant girl, Libby."

"My teacher said that once when I told her that her hair didn't match her eyebrows." She looked so serious that he struggled to hold in his laughter. "I bet she did." Getting to his feet, Marek smiled down at her. "I'm going to go talk to your Mom now. Enjoy your cartoons."

Heading back to the lobby, Marek found Cordelia in the same position she'd occupied when he first arrived: hunched over the keyboard, the computer screen casting a bluish tint on her features.

"Have a good chat?" She asked, not taking her eyes off her work.

"Keep an eye on that one," he joked, helping himself to some coffee that sat in the corner. Glancing over, Cordy raised a brow. "What makes you say that?"

"Only little girl I know who likes to play the femme fatale while the rest of her siblings are pretending to be Spiderman or Angel."

"Oh, that," Cordelia grimaced. "Luckily she has no clue about the 'femme fatale' part." She said, punctuating the name with air quotes. "Not that that's her intention when she pretends to be Catwoman or whatever. She just likes portraying strong female characters, that's all," she continued defensively. "Besides," she added with a smirk. "It drives the guys nuts. It's just a phase, though. She'll get over it."

"You hope," he teased.

"She will." Obviously the subject was closed, as she turned to the doorway where Wesley and Fred were just coming in. "Hey guys, how was lunch?" Fred grinned eagerly. "It was great! We saw Orlando Bloom buying a hot dog. I love it when stars are so normal."

"Hey, you guys didn't happen to bring a doggy bag, did you? I'm starving." Marek abandoned his coffee cup at the counter and moved forward to greet the pair. "Marek!" Wesley exclaimed, looking genuinely happy to see him. "When did you get here?"

"Obviously between the time you two left for lunch and now," Cordy pointed out dryly. "But that's not important. Marek's decided that he's gonna stick around. Which means we have another employee, which means-"

"Which means that Angel will have one less reason to hold out on the expansion," Wes finished. "Exactly!" Cordy chirped, then got down to business. "Before I forget... Fred, some scientific journal called for you -- number's on the desk. Wes, a delivery came for you, and don't forget to do your magic-mojo screening on it. Oh, and it's Meet the Parents night on Thursday. I want all three of us to go."

"I've already cleared my schedule," he assured her. "So, Marek, tell us about your year. Anything exciting happen?"

More than you want to know. He didn't know how many people would consider torture, imprisonment, and one wild weekend with a Moroccan contortionist -- to name only a few things -- exciting, but most of it was not what he deemed appropriate conversation topics with people he hadn't seen in a year. So instead of answering, he skilfully turned the conversation around. "Nothing special, really. Apparently that's not the case around here. When did this happen?" He gestured to the closeness between Wesley and Fred. "Last I checked, things between you two were more one-sided."

Wesley managed to look embarrassed and smug at the same time, while Fred blushed prettily. "A few months ago."

"Took 'em long enough," Cordelia muttered and rolled her eyes, though obviously happy for the duo. Marek instantly turned his attention on her. "And what about you, Cordelia?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously -- a sign that said 'Back Off' loud and clear. "What about me?"

A sign which he had every intention of ignoring. "Any boyfriends, dates, prospects?"

"That's none of your damn business."

"So there's nobody?"

"I didn't say that," she seethed. "What about you?"

He smirked. "We're not talking about me. So, you are seeing someone then?"

Fred, who'd seated herself on one of the couches to enjoy the show, snorted. "Only if you count Angel. They've been dancing around each other for months." When Cordelia turned her searing gaze on the Texan, Fred lost some of her confidence. "What? It's true!"

"So not!"

Marek watched as the women argued back and forth over the subject, and knew instinctively that Fred was telling the truth. Why would Cordelia be so defensive otherwise?

"You look... troubled." Wesley's voice was low as he sidled up next to Marek, who shrugged. "Can't think of a time when I wasn't. So, how've you been, really?" As Wes started in on his life over the past year, Marek continued to watch Cordelia, who'd cowed Fred enough to win their argument and had gone back to working.

It wasn't like he was surprised there was an attraction between Cordelia and Angel -- she was a beautiful, enigmatic woman. What man wouldn't want that? The only question that plagued him was one that had stuck with him since the first couple of months that he'd gotten to know her.

Did he?

..............................................................................................................................................................................

A/N: Couple of things.... I feel like I didn't really hit my groove with this chapter, so it seems a bit awkward to me. Since I don't remember what it's like to be four, nor have I been in the vicinity of a four-year-old in years (seriously), I haven't the faintest idea how to write one appropriately. Please remember that when you review.

Also, I promise that I'll bring the kids into the story more, starting with the next chapter, but since I just can't write small children, you'll have to wait a bit until they start taking center stage (read: chapters from their POVs)

Thanks again to my reviewers!