Author's Note: This chapter is out sooner than I expected. I had it written -- and it was a lot different -- but the reboot of the computer kinda erased it. They have a tendency to do that. This chapter was written at four AM; you'll pardon any non sequiturs, I hope. Enjoy! I have to say this to Imzadi, since you've been so persistent: Happy now? XD Just kidding. Thanks to those who have reviewed! One more chapter, plus epilogue (already written) of this madness left! And if you haven't reviewed yet, why not?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Is an iced frappuccino too much to ask for? Because, really, I don't think so." Cordelia whipped her head around, snapping at the demon who held her wrists. "Be a little more gentle and a little less bone-crushing, yeah? I'm trying to talk here. So where was I? Yeah. Just because I work for freaking champions, I get nothing. Not one shiny happy moment. God, I wish I was born in New York. Sunnydale? No fun. Ugh. I bet this is all Buffy Summers' fault. It always is. God, will you let go of me!?" Instead of being released, Cordy was roughly thrown into a chair.

"Now sit still and be quiet, or I will have to gag you." The demon in front of her crossed his (her?) arms. The thing was smiling a creepy, Hannibal Lecter smile. "We don't want that, do we? Bad for customer relations, bad for, well, not bad for my headache. Will you shut up, or do I have to rip out your tongue and choke you with it?"

"Shutting!" Cordelia helpfully extended her arms behind the chair to be tied. "One question?"

"For chrissakes, what?"

"Why? I mean, this whole tying up your customers spiel? Not a big draw. I would suggest firing your marketing team."

"Wow, you're really dumb. Did the big scary viscous pus-demon bit not sink through?" Her interrogator tried to look fierce and scary --- it ended up leaving a little puddle on the floor.

"Big? Yeah. Viscous? If I knew what that meant, most likely. Pus demon? Yep. Scary? I don't think so. Again, your marketing team could use a little shaking up." Cordy smiled winningly. "I'm open for employment, since my boss seems to have forgotten about me."

"Why would I waste time and money hiring you to fetch coffee, when I could just sacrifice you to Karos?" He smirked. "Look, I always like to know people I'm about to kill. In the corporate world, it helps. I'm Billy. What's your name?"

"Cordelia. Karos? I'm guessing he's not a vegetarian." Cordy sighed. "It's always the scary demons. Never a nice demon who invites you over for tea. No, cause that would so shatter Murphy's Law..."

"Well," Billy said, brandishing a sword. "This has been fun, but you're annoying me now. I'll kill you guys first, and then I'll go hunt out Angelus."

"Angelus?" Cordelia said quickly. "Big, kind of broody guy?"

"Don't tell me you know him," Billy said, leaning on the sword. "He doesn't fraternize with humans."

"Uh, you missed a memo somewhere. Angelus is Angel now. Like, souled and everything. Really. He's of no use to you. All he's got is---"

"Cordelia!" Angel shouted, smashing through the door with Wesley.

"Really, really good timing." Cordelia smirked arrogantly. "Your pus-ridden ass is so kicked."

And the fight was on. Six pus-demons against one vampire and a British guy with bad reflexes? The odds were not good.

"Wes," Angel grunted, jumping back from a wave of pus. "Get Cordy, and get out."

"No, we're winning."

"Winning? You call this winning?" He got caught square in a pus-fall of...well, pus, staring at Wesley.

"I call it winning. It's how we won the American Revolution."

"Newsflash, Wesley; you lost that one." Angel wiped at the pus, looking ready to gag. "God, you need to stop reading so many demon books. They're seriously hurting your brainwaves."

"Someone said the same thing about crack once, and I find it has no side effects at all." Wes swallowed some of the pus. "Mm, pussy."

Angel backed off, not without haste. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Wesley? Never mind, I don't want to know." He got into a fight far, far away from his British comrade, mentally shaking his head. Pussy? Honestly. Wesley was on something, all right. Perhaps it was booze; Angel found it highly doubtful that Wes could afford crack.

The battle went downhill from there. Every time they cut one of the demons, pus gushed out, making it extremely hard to keep any sort of good footing. Covered in the slick goop, Angel felt he was going to vomit in about three seconds. Grossest thing he'd ever done, including his stints as Angelus, hands down. No contest. God, how skuzzy.

"You guys need some help?" Cordy twisted her head around to look at the doorway. Three people behind him, and wearing what her experienced eyes recognized as a suit that cost roughly a Ferrari and a half, was Lindsey McDonald.

"Oh, that's great. We're losing, and now we got Wolfram and Hart to kick our asses too." Angel groaned, hacking at a demon and losing his footing again, sliding right under the fountain of pus that erupted from his blow.

"Ooh, that's gonna stink in the morning," Cordelia narrated.

"You two wannabes go hit the showers. Johannes, Josef, and Joey?" He nodded to the three men behind him, and they fanned out, laying a serious smack on the demons.

"Coulda done that," Angel groused. "Really." He untied Cordy -- who held her breath when he came near her, and was turning blue before he left -- and grabbed his blanket. "Really, coulda."

"I don't get it," Cordelia said. "Why are you here? Isn't Starbucks like, one of your big clients?"

"Yeah. And I love their coffee. So?" Lindsey turned back to the mess. "Ugh." He grabbed his cell phone. "Send me a team of memory modifiers, and a few very good janitors."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I don't get it," Cordy said again.

"There's a lot you don't get, Cordy. Basic kindergarten skills, the alphabet, the multiplication skills. One of the things I don't get? The creamy stuff in the Oreos. What is it, really?" Wesley giggled, continuing his rant. "It's white, but it's surrounded by black! Why isn't it gray?"

"Wesley, I ask you this once and only once before I disembowel you. Will you please shut up!?" Angel roared.

Wesley was silent.

"Karos," Cordy said. "Karos was supposed to come and eat us."

"Well, maybe Billy Boy got the word out that it wasn't safe, and Karos gave up."

"That's the Hallmark version, yeah. But in this world, I doubt it. Where's Karos?"

"Who cares? We saved the people, that's what matters."

"Where's Waldo?" Wes giggled.

"You're going the right way for a lack of intestines," Angel warned. Wesley was silent once more.

"We'll fight this Karos when and if he comes again. Until then, we won't worry about it."

"It's not right... Like that bogus vision I got? It just... It doesn't add up. We've got two and two, but instead of four, we get--"

"Trouble," Angel warned.

"Gah, stop doing that! I have these really good lines I think up, and then you go and ruin them!" Cordelia protested. "Honestly, you big line ruiner, grow up."

"No, we do seriously have trouble. Look." He pointed toward the door.

A little boy was standing at the door. His pink-cheeked face was nothing if not innocent looking -- at first glance. Then, the glancer noticed other things. Like the fact that his hands weren't hands --- they were claws, the skin on his arms smoothly melding into purple scales. That a respectable looking tail the same color of his claws came out of the seat of his bib overalls. And lastly, that his eyes were a deep, demonic red.

"Where's my meal?" it bawled. "I am Karos, almighty demon God of death and destruction. When I want my meal, I want it now! Guess what? I want my meal! And I think someone needs to change my diapie soon."

Angel looked at Cordelia. Wes giggled.

"It's cute!" Wesley said.

"I think it's time for me to head home, boss, have a nice night!" Cordelia ran for it, Angel dropping in front of her and cutting her off.

"It's safe to say you'll be putting in extra hours."

"Why me? This is sexist! I have a ghost to get back to! He misses me!" Cordy tried to push past him to no avail.

"We stay here. All of us." He glared at Wesley, who was creeping out the back.

"Bugger," Wes said, putting his pouting face on.

"I AM KAROS, AND I WANT MY FOOD!"

"Dammit," Cordelia sighed. "All right, but I'm getting paid for this one."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------