A/N: Sorry, no updates tomorrow; check Wednesday. And here's more fluff.

September 28, 2019—Morning

Okay, finally woke up completely. Turns out Uncle Angel was supposed to get here later tomorrow. But then Aunt Cordy had a…vision?…and there was supposed to be trouble.

Turns out, the LA branch of my family isn't as normal as I'd thought. Aunt Cordy's half-demon, for one. And she gets visions, warnings of the future. Sorta like my dreams, only more direct and a hell of a lot less confusing.

And Connor? Well, he spent his childhood in a hell dimension. After Uncle Wesley kidnapped him because he translated a fake prophecy about how Uncle Angel was gonna kill him. And let's not even go into his conception: Darla, resurrected as a human after being staked by Uncle Angel, was vamped by Drusilla, had sex with my ever-broody uncle, and then dusted herself to save the baby.

Right…

Anyway, Aunt Cordy said she saw a really dark and cold place, not like she was observing it, but more like she was the person there, looking at everything from someone else's perspective. Strangest of all, Aunt Cordy said that she didn't feel any fear in her vision, just a lot of confusion.

That makes basically no sense. Uncle Rupert just went over to Aunt Willow's house to help with the research. I think Aunt Dawn was supposed to join them, but she's disappeared with Connor.

I don't even want to know where they are. And I don't think anyone else wants to know, aside from Aunt Anya.

I feel kinda sorry for Aunt Dawn and Connor. Every time they're together in public, Dad and Uncle Angel start bickering and try to get them apart. I think they both have some serious possessiveness issues.

Ooh, loud cursing from downstairs. And it doesn't sound like Dad…

I ran down the steps, taking them three and four at a time. You know, hurrying because I thought there might've been some kind of emergency. And because I smelled something burning.

Imagine my surprise as I saw the blood-spattered kitchen wall and two very loud people, one rolling on the ground, laughing, and the other jumping around grabbing his hand and spewing obscenities.

"Ahem."

Uncle Angel stopped yelling and instead got all sulky and brooding. Dad tried to stop laughing, several times in fact, but that didn't really work out.

"What's going on?"

Uncle Angel, ever the repentant one, answered. "It's all his fault."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. What happened? What's with all the…the blood on the walls and the yelling and laughing?"

Meanwhile, Dad had been quieting down. But as I mentioned the bloody walls, he cracked up again. I'm placing my money on five minutes before he sobers up.

Uncle Angel gave Dad a glare. Then looked in the direction of the closet two feet away.

A closet where I had stashed several large crucifixes a few weeks ago, just after finding out the whole Slayer business. Before learning about all the little strange nuances of this family. Not that I know all of them even now.

Anyway, I swear I was going to remove them.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I…uh, forgot?"

Now Uncle Angel's famous broody glare was directed at me. "You put them there?"

I smiled nervously. "Um…yes? But that was before I figured out the whole vampire thing. I just…forgot to take them down."

Uncle Angel gave a forgiving grunt. "Alright, Angie. Just this once." He gave Dad another glare, which sent him into further bouts of laughter. I so did not want to know exactly what had gone on down here.

"Well, see you guys later. Dad, behave. And please clean up your mess before lunchtime." I gestured towards the walls.

"Hey," Dad protested. "I'm not the poofter that spilled that everywhere. Make Peaches do it."

I sighed. Were all vampires this childish? "Uncle Angel's a guest here, in case you forgot."

"So? I'm not the one on a mission of redemption here. 'Help the bloody hopeless.'"

"Hey!"

"C'mon. Just…just figure something out."

"Yeah," Uncle Angel agreed with a slight smirk. Very disturbing.

Facts of life that I've learned since birth: #1. Close curtains on windows with eastern exposure in the morning. #2. Uncle Angel has two facial expressions. If he smirks or wears leather pants, call Aunt Willow immediately.

"Now that you're all soul-having, William, shouldn't you be a little more considerate about how you treat your guests?"

I think he knew something was wrong the moment he said it.

"What?" I demanded. "Soul? What soul?"

"Uh…" Uncle Angel looked extremely uncomfortable and slightly shifty. "So I take it you haven't told her?" he asked Dad.

"This isn't possible," I babbled. "I mean, people of the non-human variety that have souls are all broody and-and…lame! Dad, you're neither mentally challenged…much…nor wear excessive amounts of hair gel. And you don't brood all day or prance around like Uncle An—uh, right." I shot a glance at Uncle Angel, who somehow managed to glower and brood at the same time. "And why didn't you tell me?"

Well, I have to admit, some things made more sense now. The whole not-killing-people thing, for one.

"I was getting around to it," Dad said sheepishly. "But…well—"

"Does this mean you're going to brood all day?"

Interesting little episode, there. So, soul equals good, right?

Just the same, I better make sure we don't have any hair gel hidden around the house.