Cordelia glanced at the office building and kept walking. Nothing was on fire or had exploded. Good, that meant she could grab a macchiato. Sure it was murder on her hips but a wake up call this god-awful early called for sustenance. The walk from the Wiltshire Normandie station had cleared her head a bit, not that she'd ever tell that to Mr. undead-so-he-never-needs-to-sleep. She was still pushing for him to move their office to Wiltshire so she didn't have to even consider riding the bus. Of course if he'd done that to begin with, she'd have missed out on following the music with Doyle to one of the best concerts of her life. Granted it'd been Doyle who'd made the night so fantastic but she still thought BoA could give that Gaga chick a run for her money. Cordelia shook her head to derail that line of thought. It wasn't like thinking of Doyle would bring him back.

She stopped outside of Cafe Latte and stared at the darkened store. Damn it, what had she been thinking? She knew they didn't open until eight. She walked the three blocks back to her boss' building. From the far side of the street, as she waited for a couple of cars to drive past so she could cross, she took in the building. Five of the eight business signs were in Korean, one in Spanish, and the two owned by Mr. can't-bother-to-buy-an-espresso-machine-for-the-office were in English. Wen Acupuncture and Herbs wasn't too bad. At least it went straight to the point. Lamont Cranston Investigates, even with the subtitle Paranormal Specialists that she'd pushed for, was just too obscure especially since Lamont Cranston wasn't even a real guy but a character in an old time radio show. Working for a total dork could be a real pain.

The two flights of stairs seemed to get steeper every day. Sure she could have taken the elevator but these legs didn't keep themselves in shape. She entered the office and found Nissa eating leftover pizza. "Shouldn't at least some of our food poison you?"

Nissa, busy stuffing a slice past her fangs, asked, "Where's my latte?"

Hello, Cordelia thought, do you see me drinking a tasty caramel macchiato? "You called before the crack of dawn. What makes you think I brought you a drink?"

"Wasn't my fault," Nissa protested. "Wen Ning got Willow's message and hightailed it out of here. Told me to call you."

"And why didn't you go with? Isn't that why you're here? To learn to use your magic or spells or whatever against demons?"

"Hey," Nissa complained.

Okay, the blue-skinned girl with fangs and cat ears had a point. "Fine, cat woman, against evil demons."

"They're not cat ears," Nissa said. "They're my ears. They run in the family."

"Whatever. You still haven't answered my question."

"I hadn't had my coffee yet."

"Really?" Cordelia kept her tone dry and unbelieving.

"We don't call the Night Hunts for nothing," Nissa replied as if she'd actually gone patrolling with Wen Ning.

"We don't call them Night Hunts. That's from his dimension. And don't think I didn't notice you skive off last night to hit a rave. Doesn't anyone at those things notice you're not human?"

"I was one of the more normal looking people there."

"And yet you were here when Wen Ning returned from patrolling. Why up so early?"

"Hey, I'm not gonna bring some stranger back to my place."

"So what'd you do with tall, dark, and presumably humanoid?"

"Hightailed it out of here when Wen Ning showed up. That whole black veins creeping up his neck look really puts a damper on my social life."

"At least you've got a social life. I can't recall the last time I had a date."

When the phone rang, Nissa practically teleported across the room to grab it first. "No," Cordelia mouthed as Nissa said in a cheerful tone, "Lamont Cranston Investigates. How may we help you?"

As Cordelia listened, Nissa's wide grin showed all her pointy fangs. Great, the customer must have asked for the big boss man. "Oh, I'm sorry. Mr. Cranston is unavailable. He's on the other side."

Cordelia dropped to the couch. This was why Nissa wasn't allowed to answer the phone.

"No, not the other side of the room." Nissa rolled her eyes. "He's passed beyond the veil into a better place. He's late, joined the choir invisible, passed on, gone to see his maker." The caller must have complained because she explained in more detail. "Mr. Cranston died during an investigation. Have you seen the movie Poltergeists? The dead can be really nasty. Anyway, having not noticed his demise, Mr. Cranston kept going and is still in business today almost a hundred years after his death. Isn't that fantastic?" She stared at the receiver a moment and then dropped it back onto the phone. "Hung up on me. Can you believe that?"

"I can't believe you do that stupid dead parrot sketch every time." Wen Ning had a lot to answer for when he'd introduced Nissa to Monty Python. "Could you not scare off potential clients? Some of us work for a living."

Nissa laughed. "Wen Ning's rich. He owns the whole building. He can afford to pay you."

"Yeah, but he told me I'll have to start waitressing at The Lotus Garden if business doesn't pick up. Waitressing. Me. As if. I'm obviously management material."

"Well, sure, but you don't want to put Diego out of a job, do you? You wouldn't do that to him while Kathryn's pregnant with their third kid. Anyway, there's no way Wen Ning would follow through on his threat."

"You think?" That was unexpectedly supportive. Sometimes Nissa could be okay.

"What if you had a vision and passed out while carrying a tray of food? Think of the mess."

"Thanks."

"Speaking of food," Nissa said, "I'm gonna head out and grab something. Maury's should be opening soon."

"Wait," Cordelia said before she could head out the door. "If Wen Ning's gone out to deal with whatever, why are we even here?"

"Didn't I say? Someone tagged Willow. They're here in LA and need help."

"Why call Willow all the way in London? Why not call us directly?"

Nissa shrugged. "Don't know."

"So." Cordelia drew out the word. "If they need help, they're clients."

Nissa opened the door. "If they're from Willow, they're not clients. They're not gonna pay."

"Don't spoil my fantasy with logic. And bring back bagels for our clients," Cordelia called out.

Nissa shut the door but Cordelia could here her sing-song from the hallway. "They're not clients."