Darkness had started to retreat from the encroaching rays of sunlight on the horizon when Angel pulled into the small, dimly lit old motel off the side of the highway. Twisting the key out of the ignition, he sighed and stretched. When was the last time he'd had any sleep? Pushing the door open, he dropped his boots on the crumbling asphalt and stretched, feeling and hearing the cracks in his bones and muscles. The stretch felt good, and he moved to the back of the van and opened the two doors. Charlotte bolted up like a jack-in-the-box, her eyes a faint red, until she saw it was Angel.

"Sorry," Angel shook his head, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Her eyes calmed down, and Charlotte looked past him to the motel, "We're sleeping here?"

"Yeah. It's not the best, but I tend to hole up in these kinds of places since my cash flow isn't always so good. Come on, it's more comfortable than the back of this van."

Relieved to be free of the van's confines, Charlotte accepted Angel's offered hand, gripped it gently and let him guide her out of the van. He let go and went to the door of the room he booked, unlocked it, and opened it for her to enter. She stepped in first, and he flicked on the light as he shut the door.

"Shit."

Charlotte looked at him, "What's wrong?"

"It's not a big deal. I booked the room before I found you, so…" She watched him look at the single bed in the room and then at the two very uncomfortable chairs propped up against a small round wooden table, "You take the bed. Get some sleep."

This was another moment that Charlotte had to question what she knew and how she knew it versus all she'd forgotten. She knew what a bed was and what it signified between two people sharing it, and she felt her cheeks flush warm. But she also had a moment to ponder, asking him to share it with him anyway. When he went into the hospital, it was the first time she'd been left alone outside of running the mission, and it made her feel incredibly lonely and vulnerable. Feeling it would be inappropriate, she closed those thoughts down. Moving to the bed, she pulled the covers down, slipped in, and laid her head on the pillow. She looked at him gratefully. "Thank you, Angel."

Having pulled the two chairs together, facing each other, Angel settled into one and propped his feet up on the other. "You're welcome, Charlotte. Good night."

Charlotte responded with a loud yawn, squeaked out a cute "Good night" with it, and closed her eyes. Angel smiled softly at her squeak, closed his own eyes and listened to Charlotte's soft breathing, which told him she'd fallen right to sleep.

—

The midday sun greeted Charlotte's weary eyes as she opened them to see the front curtains failing to defend the room's darkness from the invading light. She had no idea how long she'd slept, but she stirred in the sheets, feeling well rested, and looked towards the chairs Angel had slept in to find him gone.

Suddenly alert, Charlotte sat up straight in bed, and her sharp ears picked up the sound of rushing water. "Oh," she realized Angel was in the shower. Another sudden wash of warmth greeted her thoughts, and she shook her head. Pulling the sheets away, she stood up, stretched, and did a self-check of her body. She felt good—very good. Last night, she saved lives, and the sleep had recharged her mind and body. She let herself bask in the moment until a strong sensation hit her, and she looked towards the bathroom door. She had to pee.

Now that she was aware of it, it was a very uncomfortable feeling, and she clenched herself. How long would Angel be? She paced for a couple of minutes and tried to distract her attention by taking in the details of the room. The bed, the two chairs Angel had slept in, a round table with his keys and ranger vest strewn on it, a small desk, and an old CRT black Television resting upon a cheap brown dresser. The effort to control herself was a losing battle, and she finally gave up and went to the closed bathroom door and gently rapped on it a couple of times. She heard the water turn off.

"Angel?"

His voice carried through the door, "Yes?"

"I, uh…" She bit her lip; the word embarrassed her, but the pressure won: "I have to pee."

She heard shuffling on the other side of the door, and in a moment it opened. Angel stood there in two towels, one around his waist and one around his shoulder, and she was treated to a clear look at his upper torso, muscles, and well-defined abs, speckled with scars, some from knives, others from bullets, and a few she couldn't figure out. She felt her cheeks blaze and stammered, "S-sorry."

Angel shook his head, "No, I'm sorry. I should have checked with you before I went in, just in case. I haven't shared a bathroom with a woman in a long time." His voice was pleasant and calm, almost business-like. "Please, go in."

He stepped to the side and she shifted past him, sensitive to his closeness, and thanked him. The urge to pee was more important now than delicacy, and she turned and shut the door fast. Outside the door, she heard him call out, "I'm going to be changing, so don't come out until I say. Okay?"

"Okay," was all she could say as she pushed her jeans down, opened the toilet lid, and sat down. With a long, drawn-out sign, Charlotte let the relief wash over her as the pressure ebbed. So, she chuckled internally, Demons urinate. I wonder if that tidbit appeared in any of Angel's stories?

As she relaxed, she looked at the shower. Again, it hit her that the things she knew, or that felt natural to her, conflicted with all she could not recall. Okay, Charlotte thought to herself that basic needs such as sleep, bathroom, and hygiene were unconscious thoughts and needs she knew she had. But the knowledge of who she was and where she came from? Those remained somewhere in the dark and out of reach.

After cleaning herself, Charlotte stood, closed the seat cover, and flushed. Turning the knob in the sink, she washed her hands and appraised herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair looked well-kept, fell down to her lower backside, and she wondered if she should bind it in some way. Her large black eyes stared at her with unanswered questions, and she licked her full naturally maroon lips, moistening them. As she stared at herself, she let her power seep forward, and she became an audience to her own transformation. Her black eyes turned a deep crimson, and her irises reshaped themselves into snake-like slits while her normal round eyes switched to a much more exaggerated monolid shape, giving her a eerie menacing glare. Her horns broke through the skin on her forehead without even a hint of pain, only pressure as her skin wrapped around the base, wrinkled yet secure to the bone. The canines sharpened first, larger than the rest of her teeth, but each one changed almost magically into cruel, flesh rendering tips. Her tongue flickered through the spaces in the middle, and she clicked her long clawed fingers on the porcelain sink. She felt her rear end move, and she watched a tail with a spade-like tip rise up, swaying like a charmed cobra. She grinned, lifting her lips in a growl to see more of her teeth, and she imagined the fear she'd put into those two men. The satisfaction filled her, and she relished in the memory, and even though she felt bad for scaring the girls, what she did to those men trumped that sadness.

"I'm dressed."

Angel's sudden voice through the door caught Charlotte off guard, and she turned her head sharply towards the sound. Hissing softly, her skin rippled like water broken by a stone's toss in a lake, and she felt the heat of ember fire dance between her fingertips. Pulling herself in, Charlotte focused and watched her demonic features melt away just as quickly as they'd sprouted, and once she knew she had her voice under control, felt safe enough to speak, "Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Not at all," Angel said.

She could literally feel his body against the door on the other side due to the power she'd just unleashed. She unconsciously pressed her palm against the door, unaware of her action.

"I'll go get you some clean clothes out of the van and leave them by the door. Do you feel safe being here alone for a few minutes? I'd like to go get us some food."

Food! The one thing she'd forgotten all about, and suddenly her stomach chastised her harshly for her forgetfulness. She dropped her hand and stepped back, and even though he couldn't see her, she nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, please!"

"Anything you want?"

Charlotte didn't know at all what she wanted. She could not remember the last time she had any kind of meal, what she ate, and considering what she was, she didn't exactly want to think about it. "You choose."

"Okay," Angel said.

Charlotte heard him open the door to go to the van and turned back to look in the mirror, her human features greeting her. With a pull of her power, she watched her eyes go red one more time. She was gaining confidence in calling her power up and looked forward to all the lives she would save. With a sigh, she gave her rumbling tummy a scolding to have patience and turned to the shower. Charlotte pulled her black T-shirt up over her head, dropped it in a corner, her bare chest rising and falling with her soft breaths. Slipping her jeans and underwear off, she reached into the shower and turned on the hot water tap, ignoring the cold handle all together. As the steam rose from the heat of the pouring shower head, she stepped in and closed the curtain.