She was not exactly a nervous person, in her opinion, at least.
She had always just taken life as it came. He was much more comfortable as a female, okay. She was attracted to men, no biggie. She had HIV; that was bad, but whatever. She had just met the love of her life...well, that was the exception to her "anything goes" attitude. That was a big, no, a huge deal.
She was not overly concerned with what he thought of her, strangely enough; something about the way that he acted around her, or maybe the way that she laughed when she was with him, or it could be the way that he smiled at her...she had no idea, she just knew that they belonged, like magnets. Somehow, she knew that they would be together until the end.
What she was concerned about were his friends. If they hated her...well, whatever she had said about everlasting love just went down the drain. He loved them first, and, as far as she could see, he loved them best. Who was she kidding? Of course he loved them best. They were friends. What did that mean for her? She had to make a great impression on them.
Of course, they had met before, since he spent just about all of his time with them. She thought that they liked her well enough; they certainly did not dislike her, but that really did not mean much. Something about that group seemed to say that dislike was not their natural way, that it was saved for special people.
For once in her life, she was not planning on being special.
Of course, she had to be special; she just had to keep from being special. There was a world of difference. Really.
So even though she had misgivings about this idea (a breaking back into the building party? What? How exactly were they planning on getting through bolts, and plywood, and a padlock, and a chain?), she approached it with a whole heart. She was going to make the most of it, hell, she was going to enjoy it. She was going to use all of her crazy, personal flair and her occasional practicality and make this New Year's Eve the best damn Squatter's Ball (which she secretly called it) the world had ever seen!
She giggled softly. Maybe a Squatter's Ball was not so ridiculous after all. Yes it was, she could never lie convincingly, especially to herself (she had never quite understood why people talked about not being to lie even to themselves; surely, oneself knew the truth behind the lie). But maybe it was not a terrible idea. It was actually kind of...cool. Very secret agent. Very Sean Connery. Very (she had to say it) Bond. James Bond.
And there was her dreamy side again. The fact that Mark could do a killer Scottish accent (which he could, strangely enough) would not be sufficient to actually break into the building. Bond, she thought, lived in London anyway.
So how would they get in? She had the feeling that none of the gang actually had a plan; they were Bohemians, they did not believe in plans. Whatever else she might be, she was a street musician. Street musicians had to have plans. She could be practical when the need arose.
Clearly she would have to be the one who actually figured out how to enter the building. She sighed, going over to search her purse.
Hmm, she had a wallet, a nail file, her wallet, a pen, a pad of paper, a pair of sunglasses, a screwdriver, a comb, a loofah, a Bible, a compact mirror, a Qu'ran, a pair of scissors, an extension cord, lip balm, perfume, lube, Animal Farm, lipstick, three extra drumsticks, aha! A blowtorch! She would have made an ideal Boy Scout; when was she not prepared?
So now she had her necessary materials; what was she going to wear? Well, duh! Of course she knew!
As it happened, while Mark's Scottish accent had no competitor, Collins's London accent was not terrible at all.
A/N: The end, for real this time! Well, that was kind of odd. I don't know; I always just saw Angel as the practical one. Well, behind Joanne, of course.
The contents of Angel's purse were based off of the contents of my own purse. Of course, I don't have half of the things that she has (I mean, if I had a blowtorch in my purse, I would have no purse), but the basic idea is there (I do carry around a Bible and a Qu'ran, and I'm not religious).
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