Disclaimer: "Angel: the Series" and all the characters portrayed therein do not belong to me. If they did, I'd sure as taxes be putting out a sixth season.

A/N the first: No ships planned for this fic, sorry. It'll focus more on friendship, although there are going to be some slight mentions of characters' previous relationships.

A/N the second: Absolutely no offense is meant against salesmen of any kind. For the purposes of the story, this particular door-to-door salesman had to be annoyingly congenial.

Chapter Two: Tolerance

Journal,

It is strange how I find comfort in the words I discourse unto this meager stack of papers. I can only attribute it to the remnants of human thought that lurk in this shell I inhabit.

Angel, Spike, and I are currently residing in an almost entirely uninhabited area. Angel calls it "Montana". Spike calls it "The Only Place Duller Than Angel's Bedroom". I am far more comfortable here than I was at Los Angeles, where it seemed everything was made of walls and smoke and human ignorance.

Here, I can breathe. I walk outside and, for a moment, I am back in my Old Kingdom. There are no aches here, although I do seem to find more dirt under my talons. Or fingernails, as they are now.

Spike expressed concern to Angel about demon fighting in our new territory. "How are we gonna make a difference here? There probably isn't a demon for thirty miles!" he shouted, most irritatingly.

"Calm down," said Angel in his usual monotone. "It's only temporary. If the Senior Partners find us again, we need to minimize the number of people endangered. We can't do that in a big city. We need a small population."

Spike would not be deterred. "Listen, Fearless Forehead, I get sick when I go without a decent scuffle. I need a fight, fists and fury!"

They shouted at each other for half an hour more. Angel insulted Spike's hair color; Spike insulted Angel's hair style; Angel insulted Spike's poetry; Spike insulted Angel's taste in music. I grew weary of their bickering and knocked them both unconscious. I then went out to enjoy the open space of Montana.

----------

Journal,

Amazingly, I have yet to tire of the empty landscapes of our new residence. Perhaps it is due to the almost imperceptible whisperings of the greenery. In Los Angeles, every noise was a cacophony unto my ears. When my powers were drained, my hearing diminished beyond the ability to discern the faint, bell-like music of the vegetation. Now, with no sounds but nature, I can, very slightly, hear the great oak behind the house, telling its secrets to the reeds of the nearby pond.

And the stars. There were no stars in LA. Since we have relocated to this Montana, I have spent every night gazing rapturously up at the heavens. I have not known such pleasure for millennia.

Spike joined me outside last night. I was, at first, displeased, for the stench of an unclean half-breed is enough to sully the quiet, crisp moments when the galaxies bend down to me. His presence stained the night as bile might ruin the great works of Old Art. Before I could dismiss him from my side, however, he opened his incredibly annoying mouth.

"Stargazing, eh? Wouldn't have pegged you for the quiet, contemplative type." He turned his eyes to the sky. "I haven't had an astronomy lesson in over a century. Reckon I can still recognize a few constellations, though."

"Constellations?" I inquired.

Spike's face changed for a moment. "What? You didn't have star pictures back in your old world?"

"We had billions of constellations, ignoramus. Glorious renderings that spanned entire dimensions. I remember them all by name, as surely as you would remember the feeling of your ribs cracking between my palms." I paused, though I don't know why. "I am simply unfamiliar with the stars I see before me now."

Spike looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. "Would you like a beginner's lesson? Twenty-first Century Astronomy for Dummies?"

"As if you could dare claim my indulgence in any matter. Taught by you? I, who have traversed times and spaces? Your knowledge flickers in comparison to mine."

Spike threw his hands into the air. "Well, excuse me for being friendly! Fine, if you're going to be that way, you can have Angel as your bosom buddy from now on. Hope you're both very happy!"

He turned and began stomping back to the house. I do not know what possessed me to call out to him.

"Servant! Turn back to me this instant!" He did not acknowledge my shout in the least. "Very well! I want to know about the stars!"

He stopped at my demand (not a request) and slowly turned back to me. "What's that now? Her Mightiness would deign to learn a few things from a vampire?"

For the first time in my existence, I could not think of an answer that would be safe for my honor and dignity. It was true, I longed to know the constellations of this world. Yet, I could not admit that I wished to be taught anything from a lower being.

I was saved from having to reply when Spike pointed to an area of the sky and spoke, "That there is Cygnus. See those four stars? And those few stars branching off of the third one down? How they make a swan shape?"

"Of course I see. My eyes are infinitely more attuned to my surroundings than yours."

"Righto. There's one I think you'll like: Cassiopeia, the Queen."

----------

Journal,

I have had a particularly dull day. My vampire comrades recently noticed a dearth of animal blood in their food storage container. In order to resolve this dilemma, they both traveled to the nearby town in Angel's automobile so that they might replenish their supply from the butcher. I was left alone in the house.

I was considering the books in Angel's room when I heard pounding from the front doorway. Believing the noise to herald an assault from a host of demons and hell-gods, I charged toward the door, preparing to rip asunder those who would dare engage a warrior of my repute in combat. I tore open the door, only to be met with the hideous, drooping face of a human. A human arrayed in somewhat ugly and tedious garments.

"Hello, hello there, young lady!" declared the man exuberantly. "New to the area, eh? A great big welcome to ya!"

He paused, and his nerve-grating smile fell slightly. "Why ya all covered in that blue stuff, huh?"

"Blue stuff?" I remarked, somewhat angry that my potential battle had transpired to be nothing more than a weak, impudent individual.

"Yeah, all that makeup and hair dye and whatnot. Wait-a-minute, yer out for an audition in the new town play, right? By golly, if that ain't exciting! So what play they puttin' on, huh? You'll get the part for sure, no doubtin' it. Quite a looker, you are! Have to say, though, I probably won't get around to seeing it. I'm pretty busy these days, don't have much time for entertainment, though I always make sure I'm home in time for "CSI", but then again, who doesn't, huh? I tell ya, the gadgets them cops use--"

"Be silent, vile and despicable creature of blabber! Cease your incessant droning, or I shall empty your bone marrow into the mud holes and deliver your flesh to the vultures and wolves and rats, where it would serve more purpose to the world than it does composing your wretched body!"

Quite apart from silencing him, my warning seemed to invigorate his unbelievable ability to prattle.

"Why," he said, "if that isn't just the best improv acting I've seen in these parts! You'll have the audience clappin', for sure!"

I was suddenly made aware of a feeling that I had not hence experienced. I was utterly shocked. Never before had a human possessed the audacity to remain in my presence after such an exclamation on my part. Yet this man did not even tremble, nor did he shed a tear of horror at the prospect of suffering my torments. He was laughing at me.

"Anyhoo," he continued, "apart from bidding you welcome to our beautiful town, I'm actually here to make you a helluva fantastic offer, if I do say so myself." He winked his eye at me, and I barely restrained myself from removing his lungs with my hands. "How would you like to replace all the windows in your new house, huh? I'm talking about terrific, new-age, technological windows, designed to resist everything that could possibly be thrown at 'em! From baseballs to tornados, these babies won't let you down! And today, if you buy twelve or more, I'm authorized to cut down our installation price by fifteen per cent! Whaddya say to that, eh?"

"Remove yourself from my threshold, scum of my boot!" I cried.

After that, he stopped his mind-numbing speech, and instead began to scream piercingly. Perhaps he finally succumbed to the terror my voice inspired. Or perhaps it was because I had snapped both of his arms in half at the elbows. Whichever the reason, I happily carted him, wailing and kicking, a mile from the house and deposited him in the middle of the road, where I could only hope a speeding automobile would put an end to his persistent bawling.

----------

Journal,

Angel was very angry with me today, for what I believe is a dreadfully idiotic reason.

"You snapped an innocent man's arms in two!" he yelled at me, apparently forgetting that I could very easily tear his ribs from his torso and make a crown of them. I refrained from acting on this impulse, though the thought did not fail to amuse me.

Angel continued his rant. "Have you learned nothing! You can't go around torturing people just because you feel like it!"

"He annoyed me," I explained.

"I don't care if he was singing 'The Song that Never Ends' while dancing from the latest Britney Spears music video! We don't break people's arms just because they annoy us! Do you have any idea what kind of ramifications we're talking about here? Besides the moral ones? That salesman is at St. Thomas's Hospital right now, probably making his report about the crazy, blue lady with the superiority complex. Odds are, we're going to have every cop in the county swarming over this place in a matter of hours! Our safehouse is useless now, do you hear me? Useless!"

He seemed to have run out of moronic things to say, for he stormed from the kitchen in a swirl of his black coat.

Spike watched him leave, his face blank. After a few minutes, he walked over to the kitchen table and sat in front of me.

"Angel's a royal ponce, isn't he? Chock full of self-righteousness. Sometimes I wish he'd just hurry up and shanshu so we wouldn't have to listen to him whine and moan all the time." He paused. "As sanctimonious as he is, though, he does tend to be right on questions of morality."

"You agree with him. You feel I should suffer the conversations of tedious mortals in the name of Good."

Spike raised his eyebrows. "Hey, don't get me wrong, lovely. There are a lot of people out there who drive me up the Great Wall of China. Angel, Katie Couric, that guy who directed 'Batman and Robin', every Disney comic relief character ever, Grawp from the 'Harry Potter' books, Buffy's commando ex-boyfriend…."

He seemed to remember that he was attempting to make an argumentative point. "All I'm trying to say is, I can't go around breaking their arms. Well, I can't hurt Grawp or the Disney characters because they're fictional, of course, but I can't hurt the others because it would be wrong. They may be annoying, but they're human, and that means we have a responsibility to defend them."

"Why?" I asked.

He sighed. "Because they can't defend themselves."

This explanation seemed just as nebulous as every other reason I had been given. Still, I resolved to consider the matter later.

Spike stood up from the table. "By the way," he added, "go easy on Angel. As much as we may want to rip his head off, he's lost a helluva lot of people. Friends and lovers. I think the stress is starting to get to him."

As he was walking out the door, he called back over his shoulder. "And since we're probably not gonna be here much longer, I'd go say goodbye to that oak tree you're so fond of. Tell it we'll send it lots of postcards."

----------

More to come soon.

A/N the third: Illyria has something she wants to say to everyone.

Illyria: What is this! One hundred eighteen hits and only three reviews! Ignorant mortals! Grime of a coyote's tooth! You would dare to snub me in this manner!

Me: I think what Illyria is trying to say is, reviews are greatly appreciated. They make Illyria happy. And you know how Illyria gets when she's not happy.

Thanks, gopie, Hearns, and Bri Yami-neko for the reviews!