Life of the Party

Part One

Angel stood on the rooftop and looked out at the sparkling carpet of lights spread out below him. As always, when he was high up and far away from the crowds, he was swept up in an inner sense of calm. A feeling of peace and grace that he never knew when he was down there, in the human world. A feeling of serenity that he knew he didn't really deserve. But he needed it - craved it - after all these weeks trapped in the offices of Wolfram and Hart, doing The Senior Partners bidding, so here he was.

He heard the access door creak open behind him. He didn't bother to look around. He knew who it would be. 'You know, bud…' he closed his eyes and smiled as he heard the familiar voice, 'some might consider it a wee bit rude to come and stand on a fella's roof and not even tell him that you're here.'

'But you knew I was here anyway,' Angel said, turning to smile at Doyle as the Irishman came to stand beside him. Doyle shrugged, 'dead o' night, empty buildin' … heard a noise on the roof. Figured… so, what brings you here tonight?'

'I just wanted …' he sighed and didn't finish the sentence. He didn't know how to finish it. But Doyle just nodded - he got it. 'You needed space - time away from … everythin'.'

'Yeah…' he glanced around the roof. 'Cordelia not here?' he asked.

'Nah. She was just putting in a quick patrol and then headin' home.'

Angel frowned, wondering why Cordelia would be patrolling by herself - without Doyle… why she'd be patrolling at all if it wasn't for a client or a vision. But he shrugged it off. 'I've got a sweep of my own to do, later,' he said. He held up a small device which looked a bit like a hand grenade. 'I've been given this new little toy to try out. Fred and Wesley … they're building this whole new arsenal of weaponry. Magic and technology mixed. And I get sent out to test it. I need to find something to kill, later.'

'Yeah? I could come with, if you …'

But Angel shook his head. He didn't want Doyle in on a Wolfram and Hart mission - even if he was just tagging along to keep him company. That place corrupted people. His friends - the ones who had accompanied him there - they were changing. Already. Protecting Doyle and Cordy from that seemed more important than ever. 'So Cordy went home?' he said, changing the subject, 'she didn't decide to stay the night?'

It was Doyle's turn to shake his head. 'We're payin' two rents - somethin' we can't really afford at the moment, I don't mind tellin' y'. So… we gotta make sure we're at least gettin' use out of both places.'

'You haven't thought about moving in together?' Angel asked. He tried to keep his voice casual - like it was of no great concern to him if Cordy moved in with another man. She'd made her choice - and Angel had made his back when he signed that contract - and now he had to live with it.

'It's kinda difficult, to tell y' the truth,' Doyle said. He stuck his hands in his pockets and gazed out across the city. 'I get the bat cave along with the office space so, if we were to give up a place…'

'It makes sense for it to be Cordy's,' Angel finished up.

'Exactly. And I don't know how to broach it because … Dennis. She won't wanna leave him.' He shuffled his feet, 'it's gonna be rough, but we're gonna have to talk about it sooner or later…' he cleared his throat. 'We're - uhm - we're gettin' married,' he said. He watched Angel out of the corner of his eye to see how the vampire would take the news.

'That's great,' Angel said - without missing a beat, and ignoring the sudden pang in his chest. 'Hey - congratulations.'

'Yeah - thanks.'

'Seriously - you guys deserve it … well I should probably get going.' His inner sense of calm was well and truly destroyed now. All the twinkling lights and all the height in all the world couldn't push away this sudden feeling of emptiness and sadness.

'You don't have to go yet,' Doyle said to him, 'we could downstairs- have a drink.'

'No - no…' Angel began to stumble backwards from the edge, tripping over his feet as he went, and heading for the access door. 'I got - I got that mission to be getting on with. But hey - we'll celebrate another time.' Doyle watched him go - his eyes were narrowed, but not unsympathetic. He got it - he remembered being in Angel's position last year. Hearing that Cordy was moving on. He knew this news would not exactly be welcome for the vampire - and he didn't blame him. 'Angel…' he started to say.

'I need to be heading … things to kill. And I gotta get back to the office and check on Connor. Everyone else too - tell you the truth. Some of them are starting to act a little crazy…'

Lorne walked down the corridor, his cell phone glued to his ear. His assistant was trotting beside him, struggling to keep up, and holding all manner of papers to be checked and yet another cell phone. 'It'll be fabulous,' Lorne said into his phone, 'believe me, Jerry, it's The Grapes of Wrath in outer space - it's got heart, it's got laser battles…' he took his sunglasses off. 'It's got a timely message of interstellar poverty. Listen - have your assistant call my assistant, we'll set something up.'

He hung up the phone and threw it at his assistant, before grabbing the other cell from him and jamming that one to his ear. 'J.C, listen,' he fired his words out to the bigshot down the line, 'I've just got off the nextel with big B. He's intrigued - but he wants to know who's gonna play Tom Joad. uhuh… well I'm pretty sure that Henry Fonda's dead, sweetie. Yeah. Bring him back to life?' He cackled. 'Well - lemme talk to my science people … no promises.' He hung up, threw that phone at his assistant and rolled his eyes. 'Directors.'

He arrived at the front desk - and opened his arms wide to Harmony. 'Harmonica!'

'Lorney tunes!'

He raked his eyes over her - she was party ready, in a pink sequined halter dress and a professional blow dry. He grinned - electric and over the top. 'Ohh - the eyes, the hair, the dress - it's no wonder the fourth floor has a crush.'

Harmony giggled. He leaned on the desk and winked at her, 'Hey, tell me, priceless - where do I find Angel?'

She rolled her eyes - he'd just called in, he was returning from a field mission. But she was of the opinion it was better to leave him undisturbed - he had sounded like he was in rather a black mood. Even by his standards.

But Lorne only laughed - slightly high pitched. 'Don't worry, darlin' - I've pulled the big boy out of many a brood fest. It shouldn't be that…' He trailed off as the elevator door opened and Angel walked out, covered in slime.

Angel headed straight to his office - without making eye contact with anybody. Wesley intercepted him on the way, to ask how his new neural-intercepter grenade had worked. Angel came to a stop and held up the device that he had shown to Doyle - only now it was spent. 'It didn't,' he said through gritted teeth. He handed it over to Wesley and sighed deeply. Wes looked troubled. 'Right - I'll take it down to Fred and have her look at it,' he promised. He walked away and Angel began to stump towards his office once again.

Lorne stepped up to talk to him, 'hey Angel heart …' then he twisted to look over his shoulder and shout to Wesley. 'Hey, Wes, if you see Fred can you have her pencil me in for later? I need to talk to her about Henry Fonda's big come back.'

Wesley looked confused, 'alright.' And with that Lorne turned back to Angel. 'Angel, Angel - we have to have a confab. It's muy importante.'

But Angel ignored him - and, reaching his office, tried to close the double doors. Lorne stuck his foot out and stopped him. 'Uh, it's about the party? I've done all I can for the big to do - but we've still got a few bugs we need to comb out of the cootie garage…' he saw the look on Angel's face. 'A bridge too far?'

Angel tried to close the office doors again. 'Let me put it another way,' Lorne gabbled quickly, reaching out to stop his boss disappearing once more.

'Look, Lorne,' Angel said to him - a weary note in his voice suggesting his patience was wearing thin. 'I'm beat up. I'm exhausted. I'm covered head to toe in Thraxis blood - which actually kinda burns, so this is all gonna have to wait until I take a shower.' He began to close the door.

'You killed the Thraxis?'

'Shower.' He closed the doors in Lorne's face. The anagogic demon turned to his assistant. 'Hey - maybe we should - uh - scratch the Thraxis off the invite list…' they began to walk away. 'You got a copy of that print ad we're gonna run this week?'

His assistant fished through all the papers he held and then pulled out the one he was looking for, handing it to his boss. Lorne scanned it quickly. 'Wolfram and Hart wants to be up your alley,' he read. 'It sounds like a bus station pick up line. Change it. On second thoughts- burn it ...and grab yourself a bagel or something, you look a little waxy.' He walked off - leaving his assistant standing in the middle of the hallway - and made his way back to his own office.

...

Once inside, he closed the door and sighed deeply. He collapsed in the chair by his vanity mirror, leaned his elbows on the dressing table and pinched the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes and breathed very deeply. Then he let out a groan and started to rub his temples. But he kept his eyes closed - trying to shut everything out.

Inside the vanity mirror, however, his reflection suddenly sat up straight - and stared at the groaning empath demon with a look of concern. 'Ooh - ouch. That is an adult sized bangaroo.'

Lorne just groaned and kept his eyes averted, putting his head in his hands.

'Mr Smiles?'

Lorne groaned again.

'Oh come on, you can't ignore me forever,' his reflection said. Lorne didn't look up. 'Oh well fine,' his reflection pouted, 'looks like you're gonna have to slap a band aid on that melon, draw a grin on that bewitching green mug and go right back out there. On the count of 9, sunshine. 1, 2, 3.'

Lorne finally lifted his head and glared at himself in the mirror. But his reflection just grinned wickedly and kept on counting. 'The show stops for no demon, Lorne. 4, 5…'

Lorne winced.

Inside the mirror, the reflection's tone became more urgent. 'They're all waiting for you 6 … 7 …. They're counting on you … 8.' It had a mocking and unpleasant tone to it, as well. 'Coming up on 9. They're gonna eat you up with a spoon because you're so scrumptious…'

Lorne snapped. 'Shut up!' he screamed at his laughing reflection. He picked up a wine bottle and smashed the mirror - the glass cracked, so that his reflection was now fractured. He groaned again, rubbed his face - glad to have shut up that incessant, chiding little voice - but still not feeling any better. He got to his feet and turned to the door.

'Don't leave me this way…' he heard his fractured reflection start to sing, slowly. 'I can't exist, I'll surely miss, your tender kiss so don't leave me this way ohhhhhhh…'

The note built up - getting louder and more powerful.

'Baby!' Lorne burst through his office door with a wide smile slapped on his face, his cell phone glued to his ear once more. He did a spin in the hallway and then marched off down it. 'My heart is full of love and desire for you!'

Angel groaned in relief as he felt the warm water rain down over him, washing away the blood and the slime of the Thraxis demon, easing the burning. The steam eased his aching muscles as well. Maybe he should have taken Doyle up on that offer of accompanying him. He could have done with a reliable side kick - that moment when the grenade failed to detonate … someone who could have distracted the Thraxis, allowed himself to get pummelled whilst Angel recovered himself. But as it was, he had been alone - his weapon had failed and he had borne the brunt of the Thraxis' rage, having to take a pounding until he could find the opportunity to wriggle out and gain ground again.

As the last of the slime rinsed away; he groaned, switched off the shower and grabbed a towel, headed back out to his bedroom. He came to a halt when he found Lilah sitting on his bed.

'Lilah - uhm…' he suddenly became aware he was naked, and hurried to wrap the towel around his waist. She grinned devilishly at him, making him feel all wrongfooted and discomfited. 'What .. uhm … how did you get in here?'

'You stood me up,' she said, crossing her long legs and ignoring his question. 'Again.'

'Uhm…'

'7.30 - we had a meeting. So…' she flashed him another grin, 'are you gonna come like that or…?'

'I'll - uhm - I'll grab my pants.'

Once he was dressed, they had entered the elevator. Lilah had kept her eyes on him the whole time he was wriggling his still damp body into his clothes. Once the elevator door shut, she looked him up and down. 'So how goes the evil fighting, white hat?'

'You know - OK - I guess.'

'And embracing the bigger picture? The shades of grey? How's that working out?'

'I dunno…' he shuffled his feet. 'I spent years doing everything I could to bring this company down.'

'You cut off my hand.'

'Sorry about that - but, you know - mortal enemies. You were trying to kill Doyle … everything was so simple then. Now … I'm CEO of the very thing I spent the last four years trying to destroy. I'm trying to still do good - fight the good fight - dance around second guessing what it is The Senior Partners want from me and the whole time I'm trying to outsmart them I have to worry about whether or not I'm doing the exact thing that they want me to do all along.'

'Wow - no wonder you're tense.'

'I'm not tense,' he said quickly.

'You're a little bit tense,' she smirked.

He stepped up and glowered into her face. 'I'm not tense.' The bell rang and the door slid open - and revealed a giant, man sized skull just outside. Without thinking, Angel hauled back and punched the skull out - it staggered backwards, on ordinary human legs - and the man carrying the big, foam Halloween decoration collapsed to the floor, groaning. 'Oh, no,' Lilah grinned, 'not tense at all. Nothing to see here.'

Angel stepped out into the lobby, glancing down guiltily at the man he had just thumped, and then looking around at where there were dozens more giant foam skulls, and more decorations besides. The whole lobby was a swarm of activity of people putting up expensive looking Halloween decorations. 'Why does it look like we're having a party in here?' he demanded.

'Well, maybe 'cause we're having a party in here,' Lorne told him, he was coming down the stairs and stood in front of Angel once he reached the lobby. 'The Wolfram and Hart Halloween bash? Ring a bell?' Angel stared at him blankly. 'Only the most important event on the company calendar,' the green demon said sounding exasperated. 'I sent you a small forest's worth of memos on it.'

Angel looked confused, 'we're having it here?'

'That's what our 7:30 was on, champ,' Lilah told him, 'your party.'

'My party?'

Lorne nodded, 'yeah, listen, here's the snaffu in a nutshell, Top Cat. Nobody's coming. Well - some people are coming but not the right people. The right people - the A list people - they seem to be giving it a miss. And if they don't show - the whole thing's gonna be a bust.'

Angel shrugged. 'Good.'

'Good?!' Lorne cried out, incensed. He took a step back and glared at his boss. But Angel only shrugged again. He didn't like parties. And Wolfram and Hart Parties… that guest list would be packed with their clients, right? Their evil clients? Lorne had his head in his hands and was massaging his temples, but Angel didn't seem to notice. He laughed - and glanced at Lilah for support. 'They're not the sort of folks I like to show a good time. I'd be a lot happier if the whole thing just kinda fell through. And then we could go back to…'

He was cut off by a loud mirthless laughter emanating from Lorne's frowning lips. He was still rubbing his head. 'Ha ha ha! OK OK - you're killing me!' His voice was impatient and snappish. 'Can't you just feel up the big picture here Mr. Magoo. It's not about good and evil It's about party. Starts with a P - rhymes with me…' he was yelling now, Angel was looking taken aback. 'About to have a stroke because you're killing me!' He took a deep breath and when he started talking again, his voice was calmer. 'Listen - I can see that you're in a state - a mood - a snit even.'

Angel was still looking startled. Lorne plucked a large, silk, black rose from a passing decorator and tucked it beneath Angel's arm. 'So what say we talk about this once you've calmed down a bit?'

'Yeah - sure - fine,' Angel said to him, a little unnerved.

'Great,' Lorne walked away, 'your office, 25 minutes.' Angel stared after him. Another decorator plucked the flower from under his arm and walked off with it. Angel stared around the lobby … wondering what exactly the hell was happening - and why it was happening to him.

'Have you got all the documents we need?' Cordelia asked.

'It's a bit late now if I haven't,' Doyle smiled across at her, he leaned in for a kiss. They were just arriving at city hall - ready to apply for their marriage license - and Cordy had to admit that she had butterflies. She'd made Doyle check he had his social security number with him like a dozen times already. She stared up at the building.

'You sure you wanna do this?' he asked her, watching her face closely.

'Yeah - yes. Definitely.' She smiled her biggest thousand kilowatt smile at him and squeezed his hand. 'It's just…' she took a deep breath. 'I've never done this before. I don't know what to expect.'

'It's nothin' to worry about,' he assured her. 'Fill in a few forms- quick interview and then …' his face fell.

'What?' she asked, 'what is it?'

'Blood test,' he told her. 'When you apply for a marriage license here - they make you take a blood test.'

'So?'

'So … I - uh - I don't have … you know … human blood.' He began to shuffle back. 'Maybe we should rethink this,' he said, 'maybe I should just speak to that immigration lawyer after all.'

'Don't be silly.' She dropped her hand from his and wrapped her arms around him instead. 'You've always had demon blood,' she told him, 'even before you knew about your demon half. You must have taken a blood test last time you got married. They didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. They won't this time either - I swear.' She pulled him closer for a kiss, 'they're not checking for demon blood,' she promised. She kissed him again. Pressing her lips harder against his and squeezing him tighter.

'Ow - ow!' he suddenly pulled free. 'Ribs!'

'Sorry…' she smiled sheepishly.

'Still not used to that slayer strength, huh?'

'Not quite.' They broke apart, rejoined hands and stared back up at the building. 'So - are y' ready?' Doyle asked her.

She felt the butterflies batter their wings against her insides. 'I guess I am,' she said, giving his hand another squeeze. They started to walk up the steps. 'Are you sure you've got your social security number?'

Wesley placed the grenade on the lab bench in front of Fred. 'was Angel mad?' she asked him.

'Any reason he shouldn't be? We sent him out there with a defective bit of weaponry.'

A look of irritation passed across Fred's face. 'Which 'we' are we talking about?'

Wesley took a deep breath, and when he spoke he kept his voice soft. 'Fred, these techno-mystical hybrids are a complicated affair.'

'Oh I don't know,' Knox came bounding down the stairs from Fred's office and joined them. He smiled affably at Wesley, who did not smile back. 'It seemed kind of simple to me,' Knox said, picking up the grenade and turning it over in his hand. 'It's just a little hand-held spell casting robot right? So it's either the robot or the spell that we have a problem with.'

Wesley inhaled sharply and tried to fight down his irritation. 'Well, the grenade's core enchantment looks operational. So I think we're talking about a faulty trigger mechanism.'

It was Fred's turn to inhale with annoyance. 'No. Wait a minute - I designed that mechanism myself,' she said, hotly.

'Yeah, that's right - and I machined it,' Knox said. His voice was still much lighter and more friendly than either Wes' or Fred's. 'It was beautiful work, on both counts, if I may say.' He smiled proudly, and looked at Fred. She looked back up at him and all her irritation seemed to melt away. 'You may,' she smiled back and they both giggled. Wesley tutted.

Lorne walked into the lab, smiling broadly. 'Happy Halloween, kids,' he greeted them. His manner was cheery again, after his run in with Angel. He had regained his composure. But the others weren't listening to him.

'How do you know your spellcasters didn't screw up the payload?' Knox asked Wesley.

'Because I went over the work and I got that knowing feeling when you know something,' he replied through gritted teeth.

Lorne clapped his hands, 'trick or treat?... now, what do you say you put your little sci fi toys away for a bit,' he waved a disdainful hand at the grenade, 'and maybe we could talk about something a little more important? Like my monster mash?' He rubbed his hands together and looked at them expectantly.

The faces that looked back at him were not enthusiastic. 'Oh yeah - your party,' Fred said, sounding uninterested. He worked to maintain his smile and affable demeanour. 'Our party, tweety bird. Which by the way, is dying on the vine. I could really really really use some help from you guys. Some back up?'

Fred looked uncomfortable. 'I wasn't really planning on going.'

He kept his grin wide, but there was a definite edge to his voice when he turned and spoke to Wesley. 'Wes. Do you hear this crazy talk?'

'Well I hadn't really given much thought to going myself.'

'Et tu Brutuses,' Lorne cried - and there was no denying the edge in his voice now. 'Why is it so hard to get anyone to have any fun around here?'

'You should go,' Knox said to Fred - and launched into a recount of the previous year's Halloween party at the Wolfram and Hart branch he'd been at then. They'd taken a whole bunch of cows, put them inside a giant wicker effigy of Krishna, doused the whole thing in sambuca and … he cut himself off as he noticed Lorne making cutting gestures across his throat. 'Uh… well, it's a pretty good time,' he finished up.

But Fred was unconvinced - she wanted to get the grenade operational before Angel went out in the field again. And Wesley was keen to agree. He was sure if they worked together closely they could figure it out.

'No.' Lorne put both hands on the lab bench and leaned towards them. There was no trace of a smile left on his face now. 'No-no-no no. No No. Wes, Fred, You're coming.' He snapped. 'Look at you both - you're wound tighter than Martha Stewart's swatch.' He took a deep breath, concentrated on taking the snap out of his tones and plastered a smile back on his face. 'Isn't there anyone else who'd - uh - fix the little boo-boos on this thing?' he said, waving again towards the grenade.

Fred and Wesley stared at him - a little taken aback and uncomfortable. 'I'll do it,' Knox said suddenly. 'It's probably the trigger mechanism anyway.'

'Great! Problem solved,' Lorne turned to leave, 'I'll see you two in Angel's office. 15 minutes.'

Gunn sat in his office reading some papers. There was a knock on the door and Lorne walked straight in and perched on the edge of his desk. 'Hey hey, sorry to interrupt., Not to be a pest, but I wanted to go over a little stratego amigo.'

Gunn crinkled his brow in confusion.

'You're my big gun, Gunn,' Lorne told him. His smile was wide once more, but he was talking very fast. 'My Ace in the hole, ball in my pocket, you're the key on my kite string.'

'O - Kay,' he wasn't feeling any less confused.

'We gotta turn Angel round on the whole party idea.'

'We do?'

Lorne leaned forward. 'Look, I know he's the boss and everything, but you're up and coming here - and it's time for you to spread your wings, legal eagle. From now on, I want you to stake out your territory and I want you to keep it staked.'

'Stake, territory. Sure,' Gunn repeated back at him blankly. He shook his head. 'Look, um, Lorne - I'm a little busy right now. I have a deposition to get ready for. But I will definitely get to that.'

Lorne slid off his desk and headed for the door. 'Great. Just what I wanted to hear. Angel's office. Ten minutes.'

The team, and Lilah, sat in Angel's office in silence. They had all turned up at the time Lorne had asked them to … but there was, as yet, no sign of the demon himself. And the silence was becoming awkward.

Spike was stood by the window that looked out onto the lobby, watching all the hurrying and scurrying as the party was prepared for. He snorted in derision. 'In my day, no self respecting creature of the night went out on All Hallow's Eve. We left that to the posers, the blighters who had to dress up and try to be scary.' He tutted and turned to leave - just as Lorne came walking through the door, talking loudly on his cell phone.

'Ah perfetto! Benigni! Perfetto!' He and Spike came face to face and danced from side to side trying to avoid each other and let the other pass. With another tut, Spike marched off and Lorne continued his conversation. 'Ah si si si. Grande. Ciao.' He hung up and grinned around at everybody. 'So what did I miss?'

'Us - waiting,' Angel told him - sounding unimpressed. Lorne laughed apologetically - and then got down to business. The purpose of the meeting was to emphasise to Angel how important the party really was to all of them.

Despite the sceptical look on Fred and Wesley's faces - mirroring Angel's own - Lorne was at least able to find an ally in Gunn. The way Gunn figured it, they needed to show all the Big Bads that the new regime was here to stay. And that - for the most part - boiled down to image. And image wise, if the party didn't kick ass - then the company lost face.

Lorne nodded along to his words, 'and believe me, milk dud, speaking as the head of your PR department - we need all the face we can get.'

'Milk dud?'

'Said with affection!'

Angel sighed and threw up his hands. He understood the concept of keeping up appearances, he did - but almost everyone coming to this thing would be unrepentant, died- in- the- wool evil. They didn't know how many of them would be holding grudges against the team - or each other - this was a perfect recipe for an out of control bloodbath.

But Lorne was quick to assure him he could handle it. He'd run Caritas for years - where the good, the bad and the hideously ugly had all played together nicely while they were there.

'This is what we've been talking about, big guy,' Lilah said to Angel, leaning forward. 'Big picture stuff. We talked about the need to keep Wolfram and Hart running - and that means keeping your clients happy. Your clients expect a Halloween party - and they expect you to handle all those warring factions and keep everything running smoothly. Holland Manners always managed it.'

'Holland Manners got eaten inside his own wine cellar,' Angel snapped.

'But he knew how to throw a decent party,' Lilah smiled back, 'for clients - and for employees … speaking of…' she watched as Harmony came in and handed a mug of blood to Angel. 'They work hard for this firm. And around here, Halloween, well - it's like Christmas. Evil Christmas. Simply put, this is a morale thing.'

Harmony snorted, 'good luck - the morale around here stinks.'

Angel looked up at her in alarm, 'what?'

She nodded, 'uhuh - everybody thinks you suck.' Angel glowered over his pig's blood, but his secretary carried on relentlessly. 'Well, come on boss, they're all out there - sweating through their matsudas - worried if you're gonna axe them or, you know, axe them.'

Angel's expression became hurt, and he looked around at the others for support. 'OK - look … I may have ... killed a couple of them…'

'And several clients,' Lorne pointed out, 'and maybe some potential clients. Why do you think my RSVP list is a fifth of the size of last years?'

'Come on! What? Do they think I'm just throwing this thing so I can slaughter the lot of them?' Everyone in the room just stared at him. He sighed deeply and leaned back in his big, leather chair, sulking. 'Fine,' he relented. 'I surrender. Go ahead, Lorne. Put on your best dog and pony. I won't get in your way.'

But that wasn't enough for Lorne. He didn't want Angel just to sit back and let it happen - he needed him out there making it happen. Angel looked unnerved. 'What does that mean?'

'I'm just sayin' my arm is sore,' Doyle said, as he and Cordelia arrived back at the office. 'She jabbed the needle in way too hard.'

'You're such a wuss.'

'Hey - she just stuck a great big needle in my arm and took a whole load of blood.'

Cordelia laughed. 'She did exactly the same thing to me.'

'Yeah - but you got super healing abilities … I bruise easily.'

She laughed again, and pulled him in for a kiss. 'Poor Doyle,' she murmured, kissing him on the nose and then softly on the lips, 'maybe I can make you feel better?'

'Yeah?' he raised his eyebrows, looking pleased.

'Uhuh…' she pushed him down on the sofa, he slumped back on it and she climbed on top of him. He put his hands around her waist and leaned up, as she leaned down, and they deepened their kiss.

There was a sudden knock on the door - and then it was immediately pushed open. Cordelia sprang off Doyle's lap and hastily pulled her skirt down. 'Dr. Folger,' she smiled brightly at the dentist from next door who had just walked in.

'Hey,' the dentist said, if he noticed anything amiss he didn't say anything. 'I saw you guys get back, I got your mail by accident.' He handed it over.

'Thanks,' Cordelia said, snatching it from him and blushing, trying to cover her embarrassment.

'Thanks, man,' Doyle said.

The dentist nodded, 'have a nice day,' and walked out. Doyle smiled up at Cordy, who was rifling through the mail, 'so where were we?' he asked hopefully.

'I don't believe it!' Her eyes were suddenly blazing with what looked like anger - and her voice was hard.

'Believe what?' he swallowed nervously, wondering what bad news the post could possibly have brought them this time. But instead of a threatening letter from a government department, Cordelia held up a shiny, embossed invitation on stiff, expensive looking paper. 'They've invited us to their little evil incorporated Halloween soiree,' she said. 'They actually expect us to go to Wolfram and Hart and party with them. As if we ever would.'

Doyle cleared his throat and shuffled on the sofa, 'I dunno, Cordy,' he said awkwardly. She glared up at him. He shuffled again. 'It's just - Angel was here again last night. Brooding. I really think, maybe we should go,' he told her. 'Moral support for the big guy, you know?'

Angel and Lorne sat in the back of a Limousine as it drove them through the night towards the home of one of their more important clients. Lorne fixed himself a drink and took a sip. 'Archduke Sebassis,' he informed Angel, 'Bona fide nobility from the fiery down under. He commands 40 legions. He's the living end of a pure bloodline of demonic royalty.'

'Great,' Angel grimaced, 'just great.'

But Lorne wasn't finished with the Archduke's credentials. Sebassis was the very peak of the A list mountain. He was the crown jewel of the underworld jet set. If they could just convince him to come, all the other glitterati would domino right in line behind him. And then - then they would be in business.

Angel watched Lorne as he spoke, realising something. 'This really matters to you, doesn't it?' he asked.

'Well of course. The new Wolfram and Hart. I mean we have to…'

'No,' Angel interrupted. 'I mean this really matters to you, personally. Why?'

Lorne sighed and took another sip of his cocktail. 'You know Angel, I don't have superhuman strength - and I'm not a fighter. Quantum physics makes me nauseous and I barely made a passing grade in mystical studies. But I am on your team. This is something I can do. I believe this has a purpose that can help you - even if you don't.'

Angel looked uncomfortable. He hadn't meant to make Lorne feel like he didn't think he was a valuable part of the team. 'I'm here aren't I?' he defended himself, 'I agreed to this.'

Lorne nodded and took another drink. 'No you did. You did. And I promise, you won't regret it. But - hey - let's leave it so that I do most of the talking, OK? You just sit there and smile and try not to rip anybody apart.'

Doyle pulled open his closet and stared inside. 'Uh - Cordy? Any ideas?' He called over to her. She had gone off to shower and start getting ready the moment it was decided they would attend the party. As a result, she was already dressed in a slinky black number, with her hair elegantly pinned up, and was busy applying her makeup. Meanwhile he was just out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and was dripping all over the floor.

'Wear your shirt and vest from the ballet,' she called through to him. He nodded and rooted through until he found what he was looking for, then he towelled himself dry and pulled on his pants. He was just buttoning up his waistcoat when he heard a low wolf whistle. He looked around and saw Cordy standing in the doorway, smiling very appreciatively.

'What are you smiling at?' he asked her, smiling himself.

'I was just thinking …' she walked up to him and stood so close the tips of their noses were almost touching, she reached out and fixed his collar, 'that this is what you'll look like when we get married.'

He glanced down at himself, 'yeah? Do I look OK?'

She nodded, slowly. 'Very pretty,' she told him, 'prettier even than I remembered.' She leaned in and pressed her lips softly against his own.

'You know, you look very pretty too,' he told her, once they had broken apart.

'Duh!' She pulled away from him and walked off to find some earrings that went with her outfit. 'You think we should take weapons?' she called back through to him.

He frowned as he fastened his cuffs. 'Why?'

'All those evil people? We might need to make something go squish.'

'Ah - I dunno, Cordy,' he shook his head. 'We're Angel's guests, it might be considered rude to go round killin' his clients under his roof. And anyway - with all that evil in one place, I'm guessin' they'll be confiscating weapons at the door.'

'I could take a concealed weapon.'

'Now where on earth would you conceal a weapon in that little back dress?' he asked her, coming out of the bedroom. She picked up a throwing star and held it up to show him, 'I could easy hide this in my bra.'

Having arrived at the Archduke's palatial home, Lorne and Angel had been shown into the throne room - and granted an audience. They sat in little chairs, opposite the dais - where Sebassis sat on his golden throne. Angel was a little reminded of Pylea - and the throne room that had somehow, inexplicably, been handed to Doyle, as if the Irishman were royalty. But Archduke Sebassis wore his position with much more assurety than the little half demon, who had been half dead from mortification the whole time. He gazed down at his visitors, a guard at his side, his expression was sneering.

'So - this is the mighty Angel. I've been told many things about you. Bit of a restless frog, hmm? Making lots of waves in your little swamp.'

Angel wrestled with his expression trying to keep it pleasant. 'Yes well, I'm just trying to keep the fly population down.'

Lorne forced out a laugh and then glared at the vampire. Sebassis sneered down at them both. 'Yes,' he said, 'though I do prefer the tales of your counterpart Angelus. Ah - but you had flair back then, child.'

Angel bit down his irritation and forced his smile back in place. 'Well I guess we all mellow in our old age.'

But his even tone and rictus grin were not fooling Sebassis. 'You're contempt is fragrant,' the demon prince told him. He took a sip from a wine glass, of a deep blue liquid - and watched his two visitors over its rim. Once the liquid was drained, he yanked on a chain - and pulled forward a tiny, pale demon who was naked save for a loin cloth. The Archduke held out his wine glass and the little chained slave demon pulled a cork out of its own arm. The blue liquid, which Sebassis had been drinking, flowed from the uncorked vein of his slave into his glass.

Lorne watched in disgust. But - just as Angel had swallowed down his irritation - Lorne managed to swallow down his revulsion. He smiled as broadly as he could. 'Your Lordship, we were deeply grieved when you declined our invitation. We'd love for you to reconsider.'

There was a moment of silence - and he reached out and slapped Angel's arm in annoyance. The vampire took the hint. 'Yeah, ha!' Angel chuckled nervously. 'I mean a party just isn't a party without the Archduke.'

Sebassis ignored them both - and instead offered them a drink from his slave. Angel declined immediately, and very quickly, but then remembered his manners and offered his thanks after another glare form Lorne.

'Oh come,' Sebassis said. 'We're all blood drinkers here. Ah - but that's right, You choose to drink the blood of swine. Filthy beasts.'

Angel couldn't keep the smile on his face anymore. 'Actually that's a misconception,' he said, his voice as stony as his expression.

But Lorne quickly interrupted him. 'Filthy!' he agreed, 'ha! Yes - don't know how he does it.' He picked up a wine glass of his own - filled with the same blue liquid, stared at it dubiously, and then forced himself to take a sip. 'Mmm … well this is…' he looked at the slave, 'you taste great.'

'Well, in light of this amusing chat,' Archduke Sebassis said, 'and of my longstanding acquaintance with you, Lorne, I will come to the gala.'

That was all Lorne needed to hear. He put the wine glass down, got to his feet and started to bundle Angel out of the room before the vampire could say or do anything to mess this up. 'Well - that's wonderful news, your Lordship. We don't want to waste any more of your valuable time. We'll show ourselves out.'

...

The Archduke watched them leave, without saying anything. 'I still think it's a trap, your lordship,' his guard said, once they were gone.

'Maybe, Artode. But I am in the mood for intrigue. So we'll go to their celebration. We'll just make sure we are properly dressed.' He waved his hand and - across the room - a panel slid back, revealing a hidden cabinet filled with vicious looking weapons.