Afterglow, Nosy Friends, and Corsets

Judith did not see Angel for several days afterward, but that was not unusual. Their paths tended to cross occasionally and often organically, like vines winding around the same tree trunk, and only after it had been a few weeks would one think to call the other for a social occasion. Judith quickly decided the next morning as she was showering that she should not expect things to be different now. Things were, of course, in the immediate sense, but so long as they both continued as if they weren't different, normalcy would eventually return. As it should.

It turned out to be a good decision for her, not because it was easy, but because it gave her a guiding arm when she thought she was thinking too much about that night. Which was more often than she liked to admit.

It wasn't that she had regrets-quite the opposite, in fact-it was just that she had learned new things (and him and about herself) and wasn't quite sure where to file them. They had said just the once, and that released them of the obligation for any follow-up, but it also released her from addressing all those hesitations that had come up at the time: the ones that Angel had advised her to not think too hard about. It wouldn't happen again, and so she didn't need to endlessly ruminate about how she felt about any of it, though it was practically against her soul's nature not to.

And then… There was the fact that Judith was a woman, and being a woman, had several female friends, and these female friends-since many close female friends fancy themselves each others' private therapists-were not going to let Judith just not think about it.

It wasn't like Judith told them what had happened on purpose-close friends just have a sense for these things.

It was Marietta Goldberg's turn to host card-playing, and she lived just two floors above Angel's flat, which did not help Judith's concentration in either the game or evading their constant questions once they noticed "The Glow" (though it had been several days by that point, and Judith thought that it wouldn't have been noticeable anymore). Judith loved her friends, of course, but she often found their silliness around these things rather trying—especially at an age when people were supposed to be mature and…dare she think it? Edging on stuffy.

"Well I think it's wonderful if Judy found herself a man," Eliza Dempsey was saying to her right. Judith frowned. Had she confirmed that without realizing it? No, she couldn't have. It wasn't even true. "Two clubs. I mean, how long has it been since you'd last had sex, Judy? Too long, I'm sure. That's not healthy for a woman!"

Judith flushed with embarrassment while the other women nodded knowingly and giggled. "Pass," Judith said.

"Mm," Claire Renato agreed sagely as she arranged her cards from Judith's left. "And I always say there's nothing like a good shag after tragedy."

Eliza snorted lightly. "You always say there's nothing like a good shag, period."

Claire nodded in agreement.

"So tell us about him, dear," Eliza said evenly as she turned back to Judith.

"I never said there was a him," Judith replied, keeping her eyes fixed on her own cards. She reflected a moment on how, if they'd only acted mature, she probably would have told them whatever they wanted to know, the vampire part aside. It was the fact that she felt like she was at a teenage slumber party admitting to the juiciest Truth or Dare gossip that made her so feel like hiding.

There was a collective gasp around the table.

"It's a her?" Marietta squealed opposite Judith, her dark Grecian eyes wide with the delight of her teasing.

Judith cocked an eyebrow toward Marietta. They had all known each other since their children had started primary school together; Marietta knew that Judith was primarily attracted to men, so Judith assumed that she was being swept along in the dramatic excitement of something new to talk about.

"No," Judith replied shortly. "There is no one new in my life, alright? Man, woman…or otherwise. I don't know where you ladies come up with such notions. It's your bid, Claire."

"And I don't know why you try to hide it," Claire replied, flicking a strand of newly-dyed red hair out of her eyes. Claire was a natural redhead, but for reasons that baffled Judith, was constantly switching shades of red-tonight it was a deep ruby. Between her red hair and emerald eyes, Claire perpetually looked like she'd come straight out of an Irish fairytale. "Judith, we know you. You've got The Glow. Two no trump."

"I do not have The Glow," Judith grumbled. What a ridiculous term. Like it had been magic or ethereal or something. Gold pixie dust, luminous rainbows, and effervescent rose petals. Fireworks and cosmic explosions of ecstasy.

Her candleholder was broken.

Not that it hadn't been wonderful, but she'd liked that candleholder.

"Yes, you do," Claire, Eliza, and Marietta all said at once.

Judith gave a sharp sigh of frustration. "Doesn't that wear off?" she asked.

"Well, now that depends," Claire said in a voice that meant that she was preparing to give a full explanation of The Glow's lifespan in direct correlation with just how good the sex was and if it had been followed with other sex and if that sex had been more good sex or merely satisfactory sex or outright bad sex- Claire read so many advice columns (sex, love, and otherwise) that she could have been awarded an honorary research degree in life coaching psychology.

Judith held up a hand to stave off the explanation. "That was rhetorical, dear."

"Mari passes again," Eliza said for Marietta, and then clicked her tongue once before saying, "three clubs." (Claire groaned at the back of her throat.) "So, Judy?" Eliza asked, dipping her hand into the pretzel bowl.

Judith sighed and relented. "It's nothing exciting, ladies. It was just one time, and that's that. Pass." It was convention to say pass at this point, but Judith liked to adhere to rules when she could.

Claire tapped her cards on the table absently as she considered Judith. "I thought you gave up one-night stands? After...whatshisname. Mark."

Mark hadn't exactly been a one-night stand, but the mistake was easy enough to make. He had simply been a misjudge of character: someone she thought could work out in a longer term than it did.

"Well," Judith half shrugged, deciding to forgo the correction if it meant moving onto a different topic sooner, "it was a good opportunity. And he wasn't a stranger: I knew him. Know him."

"You're going to see him again?" Claire asked.

"In the literal sense, yes."

"How do you feel about that?"

Judith shrugged. "Fine. He's a long-time family friend."

As one, three sets of cards folded on the table, and as one, all three of Judith's friends leaned forward.

Eliza was the first to speak, "Friends with Benefits."

"No," Judith insisted, trying to avoid the feeling that she was suddenly before a tribunal.

"Unveiled romantic attraction," Marietta tried.

"Certainly not."

"You both got really drunk and horny?" Claire suggested with a wicked grin.

"Ha," Judith replied dryly.

"Then give us something," Claire pushed. "What happened?"

Glancing around the table, Judith sighed and relented again. Defendants had no weapon against their tribunal except a well-crafted story, and though Judith was not much of a storyteller, this time her grounds for acquittal was any story at all.

"We were talking-yes, Claire, having a drink, but not drunk-we both had emotional needs, and we realized that we could fulfill those needs. The agreement was one night, one night it was, and that's the end of it. I promise, there is really nothing more to say."

The table was silent a moment before Marietta leaned even farther forward and placed a gentle, olive-toned hand on Judith's forearm. "What emotional needs, dear?"

That, she could talk about. Judith glanced between Eliza and Claire. "You two settle on a bid, and then I'll tell you."

They played several rounds, which Claire and Eliza mostly won, and they griped about societal views of aging women. They had been having such a good time commiserating, in fact, that when they were done with bridge, they all decided that it would be a lovely idea to go out for drinking chocolate at a nearby French chocolatier and continue the commiseration.

"You always take the stairs, Judy," Eliza huffed through her scarf as they descended the stairs of the building. "But it gets so hot by the time we get to the bottom."

"Good," Judith said with a smile. "The cold air will feel lovely, then."

Claire gasped suddenly. "Judith, he's not Scott Williams, is he?"

It took Judith brief moment to realize what she was talking about, and then her jaw dropped in horror. "Heavens, no!" Judith turned to give Claire a Who do you think I am? look.

"Scott Williams," Marietta huffed, "is hardly a friend to anyone, let alone anything more."

Eliza craned her neck back to look at Marietta from the front of the group. "Still bitter about the school board incident?"

"Shh!" Claire interjected behind everyone. "Don't encourage her!"

"That teacher had no accountability," Marietta began sharply, and there was an audible sigh from everyone else. Judith knew Marietta's side of the story so well, she could have argued it herself (and probably better, if she'd had a mind. Fortunately, William had not been in the class in question, so she had missed being part of the drama, except vicariously).

They were saved the old familiar diatribe when Judith rounded the last landing of the stairs and ran straight into Angel. There were shouts of surprise from everyone and Judith quickly apologized. Then the overwhelming rotten egg smell hit her and she wrinkled her nose.

"Why do you smell like sulfur?" she asked before thinking about it.

"Oh, sorry," Angel said, and she noticed he was trying to hide something behind his back. "I was...long story." He glanced uncertainly at Judith's friends, and Judith suddenly realized that they were there, with her-she'd kept her two worlds so separate that (literally) running into one had (figuratively) knocked the other clean out of her perception.

"Oh- Of course," Judith said quickly, trying to help brush by it in the turbulence of the two collided worlds. She wasn't even supposed to know Angel. Back out, back out… "I shouldn't have pried. Have a nice evening, Angel." She smiled and nodded courteously, and he also smiled and nodded courteously, and then Judith steered her friends on their way back down the stairs so that they wouldn't notice whatever Angel was hiding behind his back (that had dripped something yellow-greenish on the stairs on his way up).

Once at the bottom, Marietta turned to Judith. "You know him?" she asked.

Judith cursed inwardly, her hopes utterly dashed that Marietta and Angel had never noticed in the past few decades that they lived in the same building (well, Angel probably still hadn't noticed). She managed to keep a calm exterior, though, and said, "He used to tutor William."

"Is he from the university?" Claire asked, glancing appreciatively back up the stairs.

"You know," Marietta said, "I was always a bit unnerved by him. He's just so cold whenever we'd pass each other, and he doesn't seem to age…"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Marietta," Judith said quickly. "Everybody ages."

She and Claire pushed the doors open and a refreshing blast of cold air hit them.

"Is it Ross Brook?" Eliza asked.

"He's married!" Judith cried, though secretly glad for the distraction.

"Well, you're not giving us much to go on, dear. If you won't give us juicy gossip, we'll make it up ourselves…"

When they left the chocolaterie just over an hour later, Claire and Eliza went one way and Judith and Marietta went the other. For the next block, they talked about what a lovely evening it had been, and perhaps next time the card-playing-stars would be better aligned in their favor, and other such wrapping-up-the-evening topics. They paused at a crosswalk and said goodnight to each other with a quick kiss on the cheek. Marietta crossed the street while Judith rounded the corner and then stopped with a startled gasp.

Angel was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting.

"Were you stalking me?" Judith asked in a tone that was part-teasing, part-accusing.

Angel thought for a minute. "I was lurking," he finally said. "Completely different."

"Perhaps, but no less creepy."

"I'm a vampire," Angel shrugged. "Can't really help it."

She gave a small smile and approached slowly. He didn't smell like sulfur anymore. "Very well, then, why were you 'lurking'?"

"I was on my way back from getting a few books…" they both glanced at the bag in Angel's hand. "I saw you with your friends, and I thought…" He looked at her and with a shrug, just said it: "Want to come back with me?"

The corner of Judith's mouth turned up even as her stomach dropped. Just the once, her mind reminded her, but again, she found herself saying, "Yes." And they walked together back to Angel's flat, barely a block behind an oblivious Marietta.

His message was frustratingly vague: "I have something for you."

Very intriguing, of course; it made Judith suddenly want her shift at the hospital to end early so she could see what Angel might have for her. But as time passed and her curiosity built, so did her frustration. If he had just told her what it was, she could properly let it go until her shift was over and give the patients she sat with her undivided and compassionate attention.

It didn't help her mood that there happened to be a family in the waiting room who had just learned that the father had not made it through his heart surgery, and Judith had felt compelled to stay late and comfort them, having been through a similar experience herself. She also felt compelled to call her mother en route to Angel's, just to check in and see how she was doing since the funeral for Judith's brother, which wasn't a pleasant experience, either, for obvious reasons. She therefore arrived at Angel's apartment building after a late dinner in less than a good mood, try though she did to shake it off.

"Judy?"

Judith cursed to herself and stopped at the foot of the stairs in the foyer of Angel's building. Of course she would run into Marietta today, of all days. She put on a surprised smile and whirled around to face the lifts, where Marietta had just stepped out.

"Judy, what on earth are you doing here?" Marietta click-clacked over to Judith and kissed her cheek, which Judith returned rather clumsily through Marietta's dark, salon-styled curls.

"I came to see you, of course," Judith said, preemptively and frantically thinking up an answer to Marietta's next question:

"Why?"

"Well," Judith said, smile still plastered on her face, "I was just in the area and I thought I would come and see you to…pick up that cheesecake recipe. You know, in person, instead having you message it to me." Judith applauded herself. That sounded half reasonable.

Marietta's eyes lit up. "Oh, I forgot to send that to you, didn't I? I'm on my way out at the moment…"

"Oh, well don't worry about it, then. I'll get it some other time."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Don't let me hold you up…"

"Alright then. But I will send it to you later. Text to remind me."

"Of course."

Marietta turned away, but then paused and looked back. "Aren't you coming?"

"Hm?"

"Well you're not going to sit here in the foyer, are you?"

"Oh. Right, I'm sorry. My mind was elsewhere." Judith fell into step with Marietta and they made for the door.

"And where would that be?"

There was a hint of teasing in her tone, so Judith immediately said, "William."

Marietta gave a slightly disappointed sigh, and her breath came out in a cloud of vapor in the cold night air as they stepped out through the door. "Of course… How is he doing?"

"Oh, just fine. You know, Marietta, I'm going to stop at the bakery before going home. I'll see you later?"

"Yes, yes, goodbye, dear," Marietta said, and they kissed cheeks again.

They parted ways, and as soon as Marietta rounded the corner, Judith doubled back to the building with a relieved sigh.

She had almost forgotten her reason for being there in the first place on top of everything else that had happened that day, but when Angel opened the door he gave her such a sly smirk that everything came rushing back. She crossed her arms.

"That was a vague message."

Angel stepped back to let her in. "It was supposed to be."

"Well I didn't appreciate it!"

Angel raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"I've been wondering what it was all day!"

"I sent it late this afternoon," Angel said, trying to hide his smile. He held out a hand to take her coat. "I thought you didn't like hyperbole, Judith—they're not specific."

"Well…" Judith tried to calm herself. "Fine. You're right, I like specificity, and your message was not specific."

His expression remained annoyingly amused. "So you want to know what it is?"

"I—" What Judith really wanted was to win the argument and make her point clear, but… She gave a sharp sigh. "Yes, I want to know. What is it?"

Angel smiled. "In here." He led the way toward his bedroom, and Judith's stomach tightened. They had yet to acknowledge how their Just Once had somehow become Twice (which was now almost a week ago), and the bedroom reeked of suggestion as to what a "surprise" for her might be. Nevertheless, she followed him in.

Angel opened his closet door and pulled out a flat box from the top shelf. He turned around, gave her an unreadable look, and set it down on the bed. He took a step back. Trying not to show how bursting with curiosity she was, though it was really too late, she slowly walked over to the box and took the lid in her hands. She glanced once up at Angel, and then lifted the lid.

Her mouth fell open, and then she gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle as she pulled a heavy, authentic overbust corset out of the box and held it up.

"I don't believe you…" she said quietly.

"I said I'd find you one," Angel replied.

"Yes, but that was…" Right in the middle of that thing they weren't talking about. She looked up. "Thank you."

Angel shrugged. "It wasn't hard to find. Any authentic costumer will make them. This one used techniques and materials of the era, though."

"Which era is that?"

"Victorian. I thought it would suit you best." He paused. "You want to try it on?"

"Now?"

Angel grinned. "Unless you want to do it yourself later…which I would love to see you try."

Judith straightened up in an attempt to appear somewhat insulted, but she smiled in spite of herself. "Alright then…"

Angel took the corset from her and nodded to the box. "Put that on first. It'll make it more comfortable."

Judith looked back into the box and noticed a chemise folded neatly. She picked it up. It was cotton. Judith often wore cotton dresses in the summer, but in the winter it was far more practical to wear clothing made out of the warm, light synthetic material that her current outfit was made of.

At that moment, someone knocked on Angel's front door. He sighed and promised to be right back. Secretly, Judith was glad. They'd slept together twice, but undressing in front of him now would have seemed somehow immodest. She didn't know if it was habit or something else, and though she realized it was somewhat irrational, she took the opportunity to quickly change anyway before he came back.

She needn't have hurried, for he was gone for several minutes.

"Sorry," he said when he finally returned. "I wouldn't have answered, except that I was expecting him."

"It's quite alright," Judith smiled. "I understand. Who was it, if I may…?"

"Kressler demon named Roy. He has a bad infestation he wanted help getting rid of magically."

"What kind of infestation?"

"Fruit flies."

"Fruit flies?" Judith snorted. "Did you tell him to throw away his rotten fruit?"

"No, Kresslers eat rotten fruit. Besides, Kresslers have an aversion to…normal things. They interpret all of their problems as magical and therefore they must have magical solutions."

Judith frowned. "That seems self-deceptive."

Angel shrugged. "It's no different from humans having an aversion to magic. Besides, they bring in a lot of my income, so I'm not complaining."

"What did you sell him?"

Angel hesitated, not meeting her eye. "A potion that kills the flies on contact."

Judith crossed her arms. "What was in this potion?"

Angel glanced awkwardly around the room. "Cheap-brand insecticide."

Judith couldn't help the short laugh that escaped as a snort. She covered her mouth. What had gotten into her? Dishonesty wasn't funny.

"Alright, turn around," Angel said with a small smile, picking up the corset again. She did and lifted her arms as he wrapped it around her. "Hold it in place," he said. "And tell me if it's too tight. Darla never needed to breathe…"

"Did you do her stays often?" Judith asked as he set to work.

"Often enough. Though honestly, I undid them more…" He cleared his throat and Judith flushed slightly at the thought. He continued, "She could do it herself, but it's easier for someone else to do it."

"It is possible, then?"

"Sure. I'll show you later."

They were quiet for several minutes. Judith tried desperately to think of all the historically related questions she'd normally want to ask, but all she could think about was the incredible intimacy of the moment. It was not just a costume to either of them: she may have been fully covered, but she was not fully clothed, and they both knew it.

Judith wondered with a swoop of nervousness and excitement if Angel had intended to create this kind of moment with her, or if he had simply meant it as a promise fulfilled from one friend to another. She realized with a sudden skip of her heart that she wasn't sure which one she wanted it to be. Judith tried to take an extra deep breath and found she couldn't.

"Too much?" Angel asked.

"Just a bit."

He loosened them slightly. "How's that?"

"Better. That's good."

"Okay, um…you need to adjust your…yourself. So it feels comfortable."

"Right…" Judith swallowed and reached down her front to adjust herself until it felt right. Angel gave the stays one last pull, tied the laces, and then said, "I…"

He paused, and Judith turned to look at him. He was glancing around the room like he'd just realized something completely new. "...Don't have a mirror."

Judith laughed.

Angel rubbed at the back of his head, mildly embarrassed and trying to come up with an alternative. His eyes fell on Judith and locked for a moment, tracking once up and down. Judith shifted her weight, and Angel forced his eyes away. "I could take a picture," he offered. "If you want to see yourself."

"Erm," Judith took in a shallow breath, glancing down at herself. It seemed silly not to, objectively. It also seemed a little rude not to, objectively. And she did want to see what she looked like. Judith told herself to get over whatever insecurities were getting in her way and said, "Yes, that'd be nice. I think my Palm is in my coat pocket."

Angel nodded and went to fetch it, returning a moment later.

The picture felt intensely awkward to take, and not only because Angel had trouble figuring out where the shutter button was on the newer model (actually, it was in the same place as his older model, but the icon had changed). Judith felt exposed, on display, and immortalized.

And it was just ironic that she thought she might have been more comfortable in that situation if they hadn't already slept together. It would have provided a measure of safety in knowing exactly where they stood and what the end goal of that corset was. It definitely wouldn't have been anything sexual, and Judith wasn't sure which was better: the certainty or the uncertainty. She'd forgotten what a terrifying thrill not knowing could be and she wasn't sure which was greater: the terror or the thrill.

Angel gave her the Palm when the picture was finally taken, and she sucked in a shortly-stopped breath of surprise to see it. She stared for a long time. Angel leaned over her shoulder, a smile growing on his expression.

Judith used to wear corset-like tops when she danced, although of course, to allow for movement, the tops did not have bones. Her figure, like most dancers, had made up the difference, but Judith hadn't seen herself look like that in more than 30 years. And she wasn't even sure her breasts had looked so full when she was nursing William.

"What do you think?" Angel finally asked.

Judith took a breath. "I think I should wear this under my clothes to my next bridge night. My friends will want to know which doctor I went to."

"It looks good," he agreed.

Someone at Angel's front door knocked again, and Angel and Judith turned toward the sound curiously.

"I don't have to get it this time," Angel said.

"No, go on," Judith said. "It's alright." Noticing his expression, she added, "I'll still be here when you get back."

His expression did not change, but he left, nevertheless. A few seconds later, she heard the door open and then a voice spoke that was so familiar she gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the noise.

What in heaven's name was Marietta doing there? Judith backed against the wall near the bedroom door, flattening herself against it to listen and clutching the Palm tightly in her hand. She quickly turned the sound off, just in case. In her slight panic, due partially to Marietta moving about Angel's living room and partially to the fact that she couldn't breathe like she suddenly needed to, Judith only gathered about half the words exchanged. They included something about a "resident poll" and collecting demographic information.

She did not stay long, and when Angel returned he quickly loosened some of the laces so that her heart rate could slow down again. She leaned against the wall in relief, hands resting against her flattened abdomen. She dropped her Palm on the soft chair beside her, no longer needing something to clutch.

"Marietta is not in any way designated by any sort of building committee to take a poll," Judith said as soon as she could catch her breath.

"I thought as much, "Angel replied. "Her heart was pounding."

"I think that was mine."

"She's a friend of yours?"

"Oh yes, for a long time. Longer than I've known you."

Angel frowned. "So...why would she come here?"

Judith shook her head. "I don't know."

The corner of Angel's mouth twitched. "She's onto us."

Judith's stomach clenched again, and she said, "She'd better not be."

Angel arched an eyebrow at her. "Why not?" His tone was part challenge, like he didn't really care about the answer so long as it was a good one. In other words, he was feeling playful.

Right. It would be just the three times, then. A smile tugged at her mouth, too. Now that it was clear…

"Because I'd be much too embarrassed to be seen with an older man like you."

Angel feigned an expression of shock and insult. He pressed his hand to his chest in a Who, me? gesture.

"You know it," Judith nodded. "The things people would say…"

Angel's eyes tracked more deliberately downward again, but he maintained the posture of challenge. "Tell me."

"Ohhhh," Judith straightened up and twisted slightly toward him. "Scandalous things, like, 'He's old enough to be her ancestor.' And rude things like, 'What could she possibly see in that wrinkled face and grey hair?' And completely ridiculous things like," her eyes tracked downward, too, "'I bet it doesn't even work anymore.'"

She'd surprised Angel out of character, and his eyebrows shot up, both amused and impressed. He actually laughed.

"What?" she asked. "I can joke about it."

Angel slid a hand around the exaggerated dip in her waist. "Yes, you can." He pulled gently and she took a step forward. "I guess you've earned that right."

"To joke about your penis?" She winced. "I was secretly wondering if it was too soon."

"Nah," Angel shrugged lightly. "I have the body of a 26-year-old. I have remarkably high self-esteem, in that respect."

"Oh good," Judith smiled, running her hand up his arm that was around her to his shoulder. "We balance out well, then."

Again, she'd managed to surprise him. He tilted his head, considering her. "You don't?"

"Have the body of a 26-year-old? I do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think you'll find I don't."

Angel's expression was curious to her, like something dark was coming to light. Then he kissed her and Judith sucked in a quick breath of surprise through her nose. Her hand automatically wound behind his neck.

Judith was still not used to the way Angel kissed; she was finding that she could read his lips better when they were against her body than when he was using them to speak, and the new insights were as numerous as they were unexpected. It probably shouldn't have been so surprising, since Angel was the type who tended toward action instead of words, but she had honestly not known it was possible to glean so much from a touch.

Like the way he was kissing her now: reverent, but with a hint of urgency that she took to mean that he not only liked that she didn't have a 26-year-old body, he preferred it.

Why, exactly, was beyond her. Although, it actually helped that she didn't know because it meant that she was probably not making the interpretation up. Elsewise, her mind would have come up with a plausible support. Judith did not like self-deception.

When they broke apart, they did not pull away far. Angel lifted a hand to the side of her face and ran his thumb across her cheek. He caught her eye, and there was a hint of a question in it.

Yes, she said through her own smile. I get it.

Angel smiled and dropped his hand from her face, running it down the length of the curve of the corset. "I think I mentioned..." he said in a low voice. "That I'm even better at taking these off."

"Well thank god," she said, "because I really have no idea myself…"

William visited town on work-related business a few days later. Judith should have known that William would want to see Angel and Calder, and wasn't quite able to bring herself to insist that William go out and meet them at the Dragon's Crown instead of them coming to her flat-she wanted to see her son while he was in town, too.

So Angel was coming over and they had not had an encounter in the last two weeks that had not ended in sex; although, to be fair, they had also not been in any kind of social setting that prevented it. She had no idea how things were different now in the presence of others, if at all, and thus, had no idea how difficult pulling off an absolutely-everything-is-the same-as-it-ever-was air would be.

So that was why Judith busied herself more than usual with cleaning the kitchen after dinner, insisting that William stop trying to help her under the reason that he was a guest and should instead sit, have tea, and entertain her with stories about his life since they'd last seen each other at the funeral. Objectively, the stories were anything but entertaining. But subjectively, he was her son, and she would have found it entertaining that he and Keiko went on a date to the teahouse, where he ordered ginger lemon tea and a blueberry scone, if that was the story he chose to tell.

Judith let William answer the door when someone knocked, and listened while she finished wiping under the jar where she kept her cooking spoons (it was rather dusty and she decided that she should clean under there more often). It was Angel, and after he and William greeted each other, William led him into the living room as he asked about getting Angel something to drink. Judith rinsed the sponge and dried her hands on a towel, and then, taking a deep breath in, went to join them.

Angel was sitting in the far armchair in the living room with a whiskey in hand, and William was sitting on the couch adjacent to him with the same. They looked up when Judith entered the room.

Angel gave her the same small smile he usually did when they caught eyes in the Dragon's Crown. She used to think of it as the kind of smile that meant he was relieved to see a friendly face, but now she would have to reevaluate that. She returned it.

William pointed to a glass on the coffee table filled with a clear liquid. "I made you a gin and tonic, but I didn't know if you had any limes."

"Thank you, dear," Judith said as she went to pick it up. "I don't think I do." She sat down next him as William turned back to Angel and asked about his unlife. Judith remained mostly silent through the conversation, content to listen and analyze Angel's every move and tone of voice for hints of unbearable awkwardness.

She found absolutely none, despite thorough analysis. He answered William's questions with the same short directness in which he answered all questions, but with a relaxed demeanor that meant that he was glad William was back. And that was all she could find. Until,

"And Cordelia?" William asked. "Have you seen her lately?"

"About a month ago," Angel nodded, still leaning comfortably in his chair, but avoiding eye contact more than usual. "She's good."

"Good," William nodded. "Tell her hi from me next time."

Angel nodded and took a sip of his drink. Reading into it, Judith guessed that it was to avoid an uncomfortable topic, but she had to admit that her reading was probably skewed. He might simply have been thirsty.

"Oh!" William cried. "Marty! How's he doing?"

"Fine," Angel replied, looking up. "I think he just got an award or something…"

"National Bartender of the Year," Judith said. "That was two months ago. You went to the party."

Angel shrugged semi-apologetically as William gave him a look.

"But wow," William said, turning back to Judith. "Bartender of the Year. Good for him!"

Judith smiled. "Yes, he certainly earned it."

"You know," Angel said reminiscently, "he was completely green when he first started. That's the way they hired at the time. Whatshisname, the owner…" Angel snapped his fingers a few times, trying to remember. "Anyway, he liked to train them a certain way. He wouldn't hire anyone who'd gone to school for it."

"Sounds like he should have started his own school," William said. "If he's turning out award winners like Marty."

"Nah," Angel shook his head. "None of the others have measured up."

"Who are the others?" William asked.

Silence fell, and Judith and Angel's frowns deepened with each moment. Judith was sure she knew the names of the other Dragon's Crown employees…

Hesitantly, she offered, "Waaanda?"

"Wilma," Angel's eyebrows shot up hopefully.

"No," Judith shook her head, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Why can't I…? Oh for goodness sake…"

William looked over at Angel accusingly. "You've been going there practically every night for decades and you only know one employee?"

Angel shrugged innocently. "He's the only one I like." He pointed at Judith. "She's the one that cares about names."

Judith was reaching something close to panic, now. "And why can't I remember anyone else there?"

Someone knocked at the door again, and William stood up. "Breathe, Mum," he advised. "We forgive you." He went to answer the door. After he left the room, Judith looked up at Angel and realized he'd been watching her fret with a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

"It's not funny!" she cried. "I feel terrible!"

"Oh, come on," he said. "It's a little funny."

"It's not," she insisted.

Calder entered the room behind William then, and he made a beeline for Angel. They bumped fists and mimed explosions in some old greeting that Angel had taught Calder, who found it hilarious. Then Calder caught sight of Judith. "She okay?" he asked cautiously.

"We can't remember anyone else who works at the Dragon's Crown besides Marty."

"Oh!" Calder cried like it was a test question he knew the answer to. But then he, too, faltered. He took a breath to speak, but then let it deflate, puffing his cheeks out in exasperation.

"See our problem?" William asked.

"Donna?" Calder tried. "Or Dave?" He looked at Judith again. "This must be driving you mad."

Judith could think of little else the rest of the evening. When the others moved on to a different topic, Judith tried to participate and enjoy her son's company, but half her mind was on the problem of forgotten names. When Angel and Calder eventually took their leave, they offered to go over to the Dragon's Crown and find out for her.

"Oh, would you?" she asked hopefully, ignoring her slight chagrin at being so obvious, since the topic was several hours old by then.

"I've got to go anyway," Angel told her. "I'll text you in a bit."

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

Angel flashed her a quick smile, then asked if Calder was coming. It was a work night, which meant that it took Calder an extra three seconds to decide to go. William hugged both Calder and Angel goodbye, and then decided that he should get ready for bed for his early meeting the next day.

Sometime later, when Judith and William were in their respective beds, and Judith was starting to feel that all was right with the world having her son home, she got a message from Angel, and the resulting exclamation made William come running.

"What?" he asked from her doorway, breathless with concern.

Judith held up her Palm, having already taken off the bracelet that would have projected the message on her actual palm and set it in the recharging dish. "Winnie, Lily, Gilbert, Inge, and Leo." She breathed a deep sigh of relief.

William laughed. "Love you, Mum. Sleep well."

She did.

And technically, it was the last night of sleep she got for twelve whole days.