Christina looked up from the hissing and spitting underneath her bed. "Will you tell your daughter to come get her drata cat!" It swiped at her and she yowled.
"I don't know," Angel said with a smirk, "I think she likes you." Christina scowled at him. "So, this place has certainly changed."
Angelus steps into his "sister's" room for the first time. "Kind of spartan, isn't it?" There is almost nothing for his roaming eyes to see; a full-sized bed covered in mosquito netting, a desk at right angles with the high windows, lamps in the corners, a chair in one of those far corners and candles on the windowsill, on a small table near the bed. "No books, no laptop?" he asks, peering around the room. "How very atypical of you, Christi."
"I've hardly ever been typical."
There was almost no place for him to stand. Nearly every available surface was covered with books, the plastic sheets they used as paper these days and sheets and sheets of the real thing. A winding path lined with stacked books led him to her, lying on the floor. Another path led from the open ringed space to the desk with its glowing computer screen and another to the window. "Been studying?"
"What do you want, Angelus?"
"Just coming to see how my girl is doing. Haven't seen you out and about these last few days. You've cut your hair." He reached out to touch it. She jerked away. "Ah, well, it will look better when it grows out. The white tips will be interesting." She scoffed. "And how is my girl doing?" She slapped him. "Just fine I see." Angel's lips turned up in a definite smile as he turned on his heel and left.