{"id":4476,"date":"2015-07-08T22:34:52","date_gmt":"2015-07-08T21:34:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/?p=4476"},"modified":"2015-07-08T22:44:13","modified_gmt":"2015-07-08T21:44:13","slug":"the-case-of-the-missing-santas-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/2015\/07\/08\/the-case-of-the-missing-santas-2\/","title":{"rendered":"The Case Of The Missing Santas. 2"},"content":{"rendered":"

Part 2<\/b>: Thursday, December 23, 1999<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMorning!\u201d Cordelia breezed into the office. It was a beautiful day, if a little cool. But sunshine of any temperature lifted her spirits. Plus, a hot shower and a good night\u2019s sleep had left her feeling refreshed. Her decorations twinkled as the breeze from the door made them dance.<\/p>\n

\u201cCordelia,\u201d Angel said, turning from the coffee machine to greet her. His face was grave. \u201cCan you finish making this and bring it through?\u201d<\/p>\n

She clicked her tongue in exasperation. \u201cHave your arms fallen off? I\u2019m not a glorified waitr — ooooh, right.\u201d She glanced through into Angel\u2019s office and saw Miriam Saunders sitting, pale-faced, in one of the chairs. \u201cI get it, coffee\u2019s for her, right? Right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cordelia finished mixing the toxic-looking brew, and carried the mug into Angel\u2019s office, placing it on the desk. Angel picked it up, slipped a coaster underneath, and then sat back in his chair, pressing his fingers together in front of him.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe must have had my card in his wallet. He had no family, so they rang me. I had to identify the body,\u201d Miriam said, her voice tremulous. She picked up the coffee, took a big sip, and pulled a face as she swallowed. Carefully she placed it back on the coaster and pushed it away from herself.<\/p>\n

Angel nodded for a moment. \u201cDid they say what killed him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHeart attack. And his feet were all cut up — like he\u2019d run a long way without shoes. They said it was as if he\u2019d died of fright.\u201d She took a deep breath. \u201cThat\u2019s not the worst of it. While I was there, Ed showed up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEd?\u201d Cordelia asked, getting the sudden, bizarre vision of a talking horse on stretcher.<\/p>\n

Miriam reached for a tissue from the box on Angel\u2019s desk, and dabbed her eyes. \u201cThe morning Santa. They found him washed up on Venice Beach — in his pyjamas.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay, Miriam, we\u2019ll get to the bottom of it,\u201d Angel said, leaning forward. \u201cCan you tell us anything else? No matter how strange it seems, it could be important.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell\u2026\u201d Miriam hesitated for so long that Cordelia thought she\u2019d forgotten what she was saying. \u201cIt might just have been the lighting in there, but he looked kind of — fuzzy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFuzzy?\u201d Cordelia echoed.<\/p>\n

Miriam nodded. \u201cKinda indistinct — not solid. I dunno, I was really tired, my eyes were all blurry. It\u2019s probably just my imagination.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, all.\u201d Wesley\u2019s voice made them all look towards the door. \u201cI was just about to call Ms Saunders, but I see she already knows about the sad demise of Bob.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you manage to get another Santa?\u201d Angel asked, turning his attention back to Miriam.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d She shook her head miserably. \u201cThey\u2019re all booked. All the reputable ones are, anyway. I know Bob was a bit of a loner — and from what you say he must have had his fair share of personal problems — but he was so reliable, and great with the kids. He\u2019s been with us almost ten years. Replacing him is going to be really hard. You\u2019re sure watching someone would help?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGreatly,\u201d Angel said, nodding.<\/p>\n

The idea hit Cordelia so hard, she nearly fell over. \u201cAngel, why don\u2019t you be Santa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d He looked up at her, alarm written all over his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat better way to catch the culprit than to go undercover?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat would be wonderful. It would solve both my problems,\u201d Miriam said, perking up. \u201cI just have to ask, how are you with children?\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel was turning a peculiar shade of grey. Cordelia wondered how many children he\u2019d dealt with in his pre-soul days, and how many had survived the encounter. Best not to dwell on that. \u201cHe\u2019s great with kids, aren\u2019t you Angel?\u201d She nodded at him, prompting a response.<\/p>\n

He rose out of his chair, glaring at Cordelia. \u201cNo. I\u2019m not doing it. You can forget it right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Angel closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. How he ever came to be in this position, he would never fully comprehend. Perhaps it was Miriam\u2019s crying, or Wesley\u2019s incessant attempts at logical persuasion. No, it was Cordelia. No matter how hard he tried to resist her, he always ended up doing exactly what she wanted. One day he would have to figure out how she did it, before it got him into real trouble. Or maybe that horse had already bolted.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do I look?\u201d he sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cHang on, I\u2019m not quite done!\u201d Cordelia\u2019s voice floated over the concertina partition set up in Miriam\u2019s office. Her bra flew over the top of the particle-board barrier. \u201cOops, Angel, throw that back?\u201d<\/p>\n

He bent to pick it up with some difficulty, his enormous padded stomach getting in the way. The soft fabric of the bra was faded, and kind of thin in patches. He rolled it between his fingers. Not really the sort of thing he would have expected her to be wearing under those glamorous clothes she liked so much. It smelled like her — a mixture of skin and perfume, and it was warm, her body heat still contained within the fibres.<\/p>\n

His fingertips tingled, and his chest felt tight. Touching Cordelia\u2019s bra was weird; too intimate. This was her *underwear*. The heat seeping out of it came from her… Okay, he shouldn\u2019t have thought that. He hastily tossed it back.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d she called. There were a few moments where fabric rustled, and a zipper closed. \u201cOkay, I\u2019m coming out. Ta-daa!\u201d<\/p>\n

Cordelia emerged from behind the screen, and did a little twirl.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look\u2026 Hey!\u201d Angel protested, a little offended, as she burst into a fit of giggles.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, it\u2019s just\u2026\u201d She pressed a hand to her mouth, having limited success at stemming the tide.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t doing anything for his already shaky confidence. \u201cDo I look right? I mean, I can\u2019t see in the mirror, so it\u2019s hard to tell.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled and nodded. \u201cYou look perfect, Angel.\u201d<\/p>\n

God, this was so, so wrong. A vampire in a Santa suit. And his assistant in something that left very little to the imagination.<\/p>\n

\u201cAngel, what? I can see a frown under all those white curls,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t your dress a little — well — there\u2019s more to the — that\u2019s it?\u201d he asked as she shook her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cPfffft. I\u2019m the sexy helper, you\u2019re the fat old guy. You can\u2019t look cool all the time. Live with it — or be undead with it, whatever,\u201d she said. \u201cWe should see if Wesley\u2019s ready.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, I guess so. Let\u2019s go,\u201d Angel said, taking another deep breath. His gut churned, and he hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. Surely there had to be a way to avoid this. To prevent dozens of warm, chubby children, sugar-sweet, climbing into his lap. Crowds of people would be watching him…<\/p>\n

Angelus would have enjoyed this. He felt a sharp prod in his back.<\/p>\n

\u201cAngel, what is it?\u201d Cordelia asked, poking him again.<\/p>\n

He shuddered. \u201cI\u2019m not sure about this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course you are. Store credit, remember? Bailing is not an option.\u201d She gave him a little shove in the right direction.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Cordelia admired her reflection in the mirrored glass as they walked down the hallway to collect Wesley. Angel\u2019s flustered reaction to the shortness of her dress had given her an idea. How many good-looking, single fathers were there in LA? Would they like to sit on *her* lap, perhaps? Oh wait, Angel would probably give them the third degree and scare them off, like he did with all her dates. How was she ever going to find a man who wouldn\u2019t run a mile when he found out what she did?<\/p>\n

They stopped outside the room where Wesley was getting changed.<\/p>\n

\u201cDecent, Wesley?\u201d Angel knocked on the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think that word could be used in relation to this costume, but yes, I\u2019m dressed,\u201d Wesley replied, his voice even more clipped and uptight than usual.<\/p>\n

Angel pushed the door open, and he and Cordelia both stared at Wesley in silence for a good five seconds. He was dressed as an elf, in a red velvet jacket and matching red leggings. A pointy little hat rounded the outfit out nicely. But there seemed to be a problem with the groin area of his tights. In fact, he looked like the Dirk Diggler of Santa\u2019s workshop.<\/p>\n

\u201cWow, Wes, is that a stake in your pants or are you just pleased to see me?\u201d Cordelia said, dragging her eyes away from the large bulge.<\/p>\n

Wesley glanced downwards. \u201cYes, it is a stake, actually. We don\u2019t know what sort of evil may be lurking in Santa\u2019s grotto. I\u2019m ready to do battle should anything attempt to attack us.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs comforting as that sounds, Wesley, it looks like you\u2019re ready to do something else,\u201d she said, shaking her head. The man was clueless.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt appears to have slipped from its original position in my waistband,\u201d he conceded, looking embarrassed.<\/p>\n

Angel frowned. \u201cAfter what happened yesterday — perhaps it would be better if you left the stake behind.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery well,\u201d Wesley signed, turning his back and removing the offending object. \u201cOw!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSplinter, Wes?\u201d Cordelia giggled.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t see why I couldn\u2019t be Santa,\u201d he grumbled, glaring at her over his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh gee, the peeper with a woody in his tights? Yep, that would go down well with the parents. Miriam already thinks you\u2019re a weirdo. I\u2019m surprised she even let you be an elf,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I see your point.\u201d Wesley nodded. \u201cA blood-sucking creature of the night is a much better choice — no offence, Angel.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel took a deep, hitching breath. \u201cLet\u2019s just get on with this, shall we?\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

They made their way down to the grotto in silence, armed with a sack of candy and a Polaroid camera. Miriam\u2019s list of instructions rolled over and over in Cordelia\u2019s head. Always keep your hands in view. One piece of candy per child. Keep the line moving. Hard-sell on the photos.<\/p>\n

Her heart stopped for a second. What if vampires didn\u2019t show up in photos? Oh well, too late to worry about that now. They\u2019d deal if it happened, though she wondered with increasing anxiety if a bunch of angry parents — with photos of their children levitating in front of Santa\u2019s throne — would jeopardise the promised store credit.<\/p>\n

They let themselves in the rear of the display, through a little gate in the white picket fence. There was already a line of noisy children at the front entrance. Angel seemed to be having trouble with — well, it wasn\u2019t quite obvious with what. But he was hanging back, turning this way and that, rubbing his palms on his padded belly.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust get in there already,\u201d she groaned, dragging him by one arm to the large, plum-coloured velvet throne.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t do this, Cordelia,\u201d he muttered, his voice muffled by the white nylon beard and moustache.<\/p>\n

\u201cCourse you can. Remember, just ask them if they\u2019ve been good, what they want for Christmas, and tell them you\u2019ll see what you can do. Easy.\u201d She smiled, hoping it looked encouraging. The last thing she needed was Angel freaking and scaring the kids.<\/p>\n

He lowered himself into the ornate chair. For someone who was dead, he was doing a heck of a lot of deep breathing. Could vampires hyperventilate? At the rate he was going, she was probably about to find out.<\/p>\n

\u201cReady?\u201d Wesley asked, from his position at the front gate, craning his neck to see them between the trees.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d said Angel.<\/p>\n

She nodded. \u201cYep, let \u2018em in, and keep your eyes peeled.\u201d<\/p>\n

The first child came towards them. He was the living incarnation of a four-year-old Dennis the Menace, mischief all over his face and a plastic bow and arrow strapped to his back. His mother stood back near the entrance, probably pleased to get rid of him, even if just for a moment.<\/p>\n

Angel lifted the boy onto his knee. \u201cUh\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Cordelia rolled her eyes. He\u2019d forgotten his lines already. \u201cHave you been good?\u201d she hissed under her breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cH-have you been good?\u201d Angel repeated.<\/p>\n

The kid sighed like some cynical old guy. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh\u2026 have, I mean, what do you want for Christmas?\u201d Angel stumbled over the next part.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want a Game Boy, and a skateboard, and a football, and car.\u201d Dennis the Menace rattled off his Christmas list.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re too young to drive,\u201d Angel said, his white eyebrows going up.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no! You\u2019ll see what you can do,\u201d Cordelia whispered. This was like acting class for the retarded.<\/p>\n

Dennis hopped to the floor. \u201cYou suck,\u201d he said, kicking Angel in the shin. Cordelia heard a growl rumble through the Angel\u2019s chest as the boy stomped away. Okay, this was going well. Not.<\/p>\n

The next child was a little girl, about six, her huge green eyes framed by a mass of blonde curls. She held out her arms to Angel so he could set her on his knee. Surely this one would be easier than the baptism-of-fire kid who was now loudly complaining to his mother that he didn\u2019t get a piece of candy.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, crap, we forgot about the candy,\u201d Cordelia said, picking up the bag which she\u2019d stashed behind the throne.<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you been good?\u201d Angel asked the little girl. She nodded, but didn\u2019t speak. \u201cWhat do you want for Christmas?\u201d He looked up at Cordelia, eyes clearly asking if he was doing it right this time. She smiled.<\/p>\n

The little girl remained silent. Cordelia held the bag of candy out, raising her eyebrows at Angel. He took a boiled sweet and offered it to the child. Her giant eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cWha — what?\u201d he asked. \u201cWhat did I do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you remember what I said last week?\u201d the girl sniffled, breaking her shy silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cUm, no,\u201d Angel replied, looking panic-stricken.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, if you can\u2019t remember that I\u2019m a diabetic, how are you going to remember where my house is?\u201d she asked, her lower lip jutting out.<\/p>\n

Angel didn\u2019t reply, he just lifted the girl from his lap, and rose to his feet.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t do this,\u201d he said again. He took a couple of large strides, and before Cordelia knew it, he was a rapidly diminishing red figure in the crowd.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, sweetie,\u201d she said to the pouting child. \u201cSanta has to pee.\u201d With that, she jumped the white picket fence, and sprinted after him.<\/p>\n

Cordelia ran through the mass of shoppers, trying to keep up with the fast-disappearing Angel. It was amazing that someone with half a ton of Dacron padding in his jacket could move so quickly. Just as she thought she\u2019d lost him in the sea of shoppers, she caught a flash of red going into the men\u2019s room. Wow, maybe vampires really did pee.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Angel leaned on the porcelain basin, trying to ignore the trembling in his hands, and his lack of reflection in the mirror. The white tiled room was mercifully empty, with just the incessant echoing drip from a leaky faucet to break the silence. Nobody there to see his fear, his shame.<\/p>\n

If it weren\u2019t mid afternoon, he could get out, just climb in the car and take off.<\/p>\n

This had been a bad idea. All those children, life pumping through their veins — so close to the thin, soft skin. Their smell\u2026 Saliva flooded the back of his mouth.<\/p>\n

The swinging door of the bathroom flew open, crashing against the doorstop.<\/p>\n

\u201cAngel, what\u2019s going on?\u201d Cordelia barged in, her short velvet skirt flaring around her legs as she strode towards him.<\/p>\n

*Not now, Cordelia. Please, leave me alone.* His throat felt thick and tight. \u201cI can\u2019t do it. All those people\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Her breath rushed out in a little noise of exasperation. \u201cOh, for God\u2019s sake, don\u2019t tell me you\u2019ve got stage fright. Hello, grrrrr, remember? Big scary vampire? Kicker of demon butt? They\u2019re just little kids, they can\u2019t hurt you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m no good with humans. I don\u2019t know what to say to them. I — I made that girl cry.\u201d He wiped his hands over his face, pushing the annoying nylon beard down, off his chin. Why couldn\u2019t Cordelia just leave him alone? Didn\u2019t she understand what he was? What every primal instinct was screaming at him to do? She was just a human — she couldn\u2019t begin to fathom the want, the raw need. Stupid girl! Ignorant, trusting Cordelia\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cImprovise,\u201d she said, oblivious to the battle he was waging. \u201cJust say whatever feels natural.\u201d<\/p>\n

He banged the basin with his hands, shouting, \u201cNothing feels natural. None of this *is* natural. Look at me!\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes snapped up to the mirror, and where his own face would have been, there was only Cordelia\u2019s reflection, staring at him, startled and upset. \u201cAngel\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned and sat on the vanity, looking into wounded brown eyes that filled him with remorse. \u201cIt\u2019s easy for you, Cordelia. You\u2019ve been doing it your whole life. You\u2019re so confident with everyone,\u201d he said, softening his tone.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I must be a better actress than I realized,\u201d she sighed. \u201cAngel, I\u2019m scared all the time. Can\u2019t you tell? I have no idea what I\u2019m doing in this city. Just when I thought I\u2019d worked it out, Doyle died, and now I\u2019ve got these visions, and they scare the crap out of me\u2026\u201d She started blinking, like she might cry. \u201cI\u2019m just making it up as I go. We all are. Wesley is. Doyle was. You have to, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel stared at her; opened and shut his mouth a couple of times. It wasn\u2019t like Cordelia to come out with something so personal and — well, deep. He hadn\u2019t realized she was having such a hard time. She was always telling him he had to get more involved, show more concern for those around him. Maybe she was right, because he\u2019d missed this one, big-time.<\/p>\n

The bathroom door squeaked open. Cordelia flung an arm in the direction of the noise, one accusing finger pointing. \u201cDon\u2019t even think about it, buddy. Use the one upstairs.\u201d The startled man retreated without protest. Her eyes were still firmly fixed on Angel. \u201cSo, are we ready?\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head, remembering the crowd that awaited him at the grotto. \u201cIt\u2019s not just that I don\u2019t know what to say. It\u2019s hard for — other reasons.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSuch as?\u201d Cordelia stepped towards him, frowning. He couldn\u2019t look her in the eye any longer, and dropped his head. \u201cOhhhh,\u201d her voice betrayed sudden realisation. \u201cBut you\u2019re good now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am. But having a soul doesn\u2019t mean the demon isn\u2019t there. I still want\u2026\u201d He knew he didn\u2019t have to finish the sentence. \u201cIt\u2019s always there. You don\u2019t know how hard it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes I do,\u201d she countered. \u201cAngel, I know what it\u2019s like to want something so badly, and to deny yourself. This whole mall is a testament to that, for me. I have *nothing*, and now I can\u2019t buy stuff to fix that.\u201d<\/p>\n

His hands tensed, fingers gripping the Formica mouldings. She *didn\u2019t* understand, she never would. \u201cDammit, Cordelia, you can\u2019t compare your need to shop with a vampire\u2019s bloodlust,\u201d he said, looking up again. Her face burned with an intensity he\u2019d never seen before. There was real pain there, and a look that he felt in his gut. \u201cOkay, maybe in your case, you can.\u201d<\/p>\n

A small smile forced its way across her face. \u201cPossibly not the best analogy, I admit. But I didn\u2019t just mean the shopping part. I guess Christmas is making me think about what I had before, and what I have now. Don\u2019t get me wrong, I\u2019m grateful for my job, and my apartment, and my ghost. Sometimes I\u2019m even grateful for Wesley showing up — though usually that\u2019s when I\u2019ve been drinking — but it\u2019s gonna take time to adjust, y\u2019know? I thought I was there, and now I\u2019m not so sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI get that.\u201d Angel nodded. His arms and chest relaxed a little, his mind calming and clearing. Cordelia often left him confused and bewildered, but her last statement made too much sense.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe just have to deal. You have your demons, I have mine. Doesn\u2019t mean we can hide in the bathroom forever. Now put your whiskers back on, and get out there. Okay?\u201d Cordelia said, smiling. As she did, the scared, vulnerable girl transformed back into the person he knew.<\/p>\n

He could feel his lips quirking in response. \u201cI\u2019ll give it one more try.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood. But I warn you now, I catch you nibbling on any of the kids, and I\u2019ll stake your undead ass.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUnderstood,\u201d he said, pulling his beard back into place.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

When they arrived back at the grotto, the place was in a near state of pandemonium. Cordelia couldn\u2019t quite believe her eyes. Wesley was sitting, cross-legged in the entrance, telling a story, with a group of raucous children in front of him.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then the Rogue Demon Hunter cried, \u2018you\u2019ll never take me alive!\u2019 and the Golvar demon raised up its mighty tail\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis story sucks!\u201d That sounded like Dennis the Menace. A plastic arrow bounced off Wesley\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho did that?\u201d he demanded, getting to his feet. All the children started cheering Dennis on. A rain of candy wrappers and bits of screwed-up paper accompanied the second arrow.<\/p>\n

\u201cStop that right now! When your parents come back\u2026\u201d Wesley huffed.<\/p>\n

\u201cProblem sir?\u201d Jack the security guard seemed to appear out of nowhere. Cordelia recognised him from yesterday, and wondered again why he was working at his age.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m quite capable of controlling a group of mere children,\u201d Wesley said, smoothing down his jacket and flicking a candy wrapper from his shoulder. As his eyes followed it, he noticed Cordelia and Angel, and hurried over to them, leaving Jack to deal with the junior uprising.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank goodness you\u2019re back. Those children are evil.\u201d He looked at them fearfully.<\/p>\n

Cordelia couldn\u2019t resist. \u201cI cannot believe after all your — weeks on the Hellmouth, that you place a bunch of little kids on the top of your list of scary things.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wesley looked like he was really going to lose it this time, but just as she thought he was about to shout at her, Angel\u2019s quiet voice cut in. \u201cWesley might be right. Perhaps one of them is evil. We still don\u2019t know what happened to Bob and his counterpart. Cordelia, take photos of all of them. Wesley, record names and addresses — pretend we\u2019re running a competition or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what will you do?\u201d Cordelia asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cSmell them,\u201d Angel said. \u201cNothing else, I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n

She tried to get a good look at what small part of his face she could see through the fake facial hair.
\n\u201cWill you be okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded. \u201cHumans, I have trouble with — evil, I can handle.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Cordelia raised the Polaroid camera and took a quick photo of child number forty-seven, perched on Angel\u2019s knee. Angel blinked and rubbed his eyes, as he had done the previous forty-six times. The flash had to be hurting him, but he hadn\u2019t complained once. And, on the bright side — no pun intended — he was visible in every single picture.<\/p>\n

Not only that, but he seemed to be getting better at the conversation part of the job. Go figure — Angel can\u2019t cope with normal people, but give him the possibility that one of them might be something icky and dangerous, and he calms right down.<\/p>\n

Why did she always end up hanging with the weirdos of the world? Did she give off some sort of vibe that attracted the geeky, the emotionally stunted, and the not-always-human? Like Doyle. Her heart stabbed in her chest. Dammit, why was repressing this sort of thing so hard lately?<\/p>\n

\u201cHey there, missy.\u201d Jack\u2019s voice interrupted her train of thought, for which she was kinda grateful. \u201cI brought you nice folks some snacks, compliments of Mrs Field\u2019s Cookies.\u201d He held out three paper bags.<\/p>\n

The thoughtfulness of the gesture touched her. This poor old guy probably had nobody, and yet, here he was bringing her baked goods, instead of feeling sorry for himself. There was a lesson to be learned in that.<\/p>\n

She studied the packages. They were labelled in shaky handwriting — \u2018Pretty Girl\u2019, \u2018Elf\u2019, and \u2018Santa\u2019. \u201cOh, how sweet,\u201d she said, giving him one of her biggest smiles as she accepted the gifts. \u201cYou chose these specially?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Jack nodded, his eyes twinkling with delight. \u201cYours are chocolate chip, the English guy\u2019s are bran — he seems like he needs the fibre — and Santa\u2019s are sugar-coated. I thought he looked a little pale.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her heart was going to melt, she was sure of it. Was it legal to adopt a grandparent? \u201cThank you, Jack.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLeast I could do. I\u2019m just so pleased the kiddies didn\u2019t have to miss out today,\u201d he said. He looked at his watch. \u201cThat\u2019s me done. Time to head home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo your family?\u201d she asked, hoping for the best.<\/p>\n

He shook his head, looking a little sad. \u201cNo, sweetie, just my cat.\u201d<\/p>\n

So, she was right, he was all alone. In forty-five years that could be her. Minus the nose-hair, of course.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have a nice Christmas, Jack,\u201d she said, and for the first time, it wasn\u2019t just a throwaway remark.<\/p>\n

\u201cWon\u2019t you be back tomorrow?\u201d He frowned, his forehead a lattice of wrinkles.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d She glanced at Angel, who was waiting patiently while the little girl described the dollhouse she wanted, right down to the fittings in the bathroom. The kid had taste.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, good day then,\u201d Jack said, tipping his cap again. She watched him walk away, a frail old figure, quickly swallowed up by the crowd.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Angel stretched out on his couch, listening to Wesley and Cordelia bicker in the kitchen. It had started as soon as they\u2019d gotten back to his apartment, all three of them exhausted from their shift in Santa\u2019s grotto — an experience he wanted to put behind him as quickly as possible.<\/p>\n

He wondered if Wesley was going to continue hanging around. From what he could make out, the ex-Watcher had little money, no way to get back to England, and very little purpose in life — other than trying to live up to his principles by hunting demons. And judging by his fighting skills at Cordelia\u2019s eye auction, he was lucky to have survived this long on his own.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow come Angel only got one biscuit?\u201d Wesley sounded suspicious.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, so I ate the other one. I was hungry. Looking beautiful is gruelling work,\u201d Cordelia replied.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was Angel\u2019s biscuit, Cordelia. Shouldn\u2019t you have asked first?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPffft. Angel doesn\u2019t eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI *can* eat, I just don\u2019t need to,\u201d Angel called, wanting them to stop, but lacking the energy to go in there and referee.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I was hungry,\u201d she shouted back. \u201cAnd it seemed a shame to waste it on someone with your stunted sense of taste.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c*My* sense of taste isn\u2019t stunted,\u201d Wesley said.<\/p>\n

\u201cUnlike your sense of style.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel groaned and pushed himself off the couch. It was impossible to relax with those two carrying on like children. He\u2019d had enough of children to last a lifetime, which — in his case — was really saying something. He rounded the corner, glaring at them both. \u201cWesley, you can have the other cookie. Now, both of you, sit down, be quiet, and I\u2019ll cook you dinner.\u201d The immediate silence was worth the effort.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

It was obvious, Angel thought, watching his two colleagues shovel eggs into their mouths, that neither of them had eaten well lately. No wonder they\u2019d been fighting over a giant sugar-coated cookie like it was made of gold. This was another one of those things he should have noticed, if he hadn\u2019t been so busy wallowing in his own grief and guilt over the-day-that-wasn\u2019t, and Doyle\u2019s death.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo,\u201d he said, putting his cup of coffee down and gazing into it. \u201cAre you both — all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

Wesley and Cordelia both stopped, mid-chew, and stared at him.<\/p>\n

He glanced up at them. \u201cI mean, you know, are you okay? Any problems you want to tell me about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHas someone spiked your blood?\u201d Cordelia arched one eyebrow at him.<\/p>\n

Angel shifted in his seat. This wasn\u2019t quite the reaction he\u2019d hoped for. Of course, they were probably both too proud to admit that they were struggling. Cordelia had already revealed far more today than she would have liked, that was obvious. \u201cNo — I just wondered\u2026\u201d he abandoned the sentence, and turned his attention back to the coffee.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine. Thanks for asking,\u201d Wesley said. \u201cAnd by the way, these eggs are truly excellent. Again. You could go into business, you know, if the detective agency thing doesn\u2019t pan out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s — comforting,\u201d Angel replied. Silence blanketed the room again, broken only by the chink of forks against plates, and the sounds of chewing.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what\u2019s the plan?\u201d Wesley asked, as he passed the last plate to Cordelia.<\/p>\n

She took it from him and towelled it dry. \u201cDon\u2019t ask me — Angel\u2019s the boss. Angel, what\u2019s the plan?\u201d she called.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, generally after the drying comes the putting away,\u201d Angel replied, walking into the kitchen, wishing they\u2019d both give it a rest and leave him alone. \u201cAre you two planning on going home any time soon?\u201d<\/p>\n

Wesley shook his head. \u201cSomeone has to watch you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t need a Watcher,\u201d Angel said, alarmed. The last thing he wanted was the two of them sniping at each other all night. He had some quality sitting in the dark planned, followed by a spot of brooding.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know how much you love to play statues with the lights off, but if you run away in terror some time between now and nine o\u2019clock tomorrow morning, we\u2019ll be back to square one,\u201d Cordelia said, rubbing the back of her neck, looking tired.<\/p>\n

With a sigh, he realized they were right. While fleeing in terror wasn\u2019t his style, they had no idea what had happened to the other Santas, so it made sense that someone observe him for the next twenty-four hours.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take first shift,\u201d Wesley offered, taking the tea towel from Cordelia and hanging it on the rail.<\/p>\n

She sank into a chair, her face blanching. \u201cI think you might have to take all the shifts, Wesley.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel was at her side in a flash. \u201cYou okay? Is it a vision?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d She shook her head. \u201cI\u2019m just tired, I think. How old were those eggs?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe eggs were fresh. Maybe you caught something at the mall,\u201d he said, worried. Cordelia had been nothing but vibrant and healthy since he\u2019d bumped into her at that Hollywood party.<\/p>\n

She sighed, and looked around for her bag. \u201cMaybe I did. Can you take me home?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, but you call me if you need anything,\u201d he said, going for his car keys.<\/p>\n

\u201cExcellent.\u201d Wesley smiled. \u201cAnd on the way home we can swing by my place and collect the Monopoly board.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel resisted the urge to punch Wesley in the face. Hard.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Cordelia let herself in, and dropped her bag on the floor. Back against the door, she slid into a sitting position. Every muscle ached, her eyes burned, and chills trembled through her body. She felt a gentle tug on her sleeve. \u201cOh, Dennis,\u201d she sighed. \u201cPlease, run me a hot bath.\u201d<\/p>\n

After a few moments the sound of running water floated out of the bathroom. It was warm and inviting, and the thought of sinking into the hot, foamy goodness spurred her back to her feet.<\/p>\n

Unbuttoning her top, she dragged herself towards the bedroom. This was just perfect — because not enough awful things had happened to her in the last couple of weeks. Nothing capped off the Christmas from Hell better than a nasty, infections disease. Oh well, at least if her appetite was ruined she wouldn\u2019t mind so much that all she had for Christmas dinner was a frozen macaroni cheese and a couple of apples.<\/p>\n

She shook her clothes free of her pale, clammy body, leaving them on the bedroom floor, from where she knew Dennis would collect them and put them in the laundry hamper. With a final effort, she stumbled into the bathroom, where the warm steam enveloped her.<\/p>\n

She sank down into the water, letting it swirl around her throbbing limbs, and a few tears slipped down her face. She wasn\u2019t crying, really, because then she\u2019d be breaking her promise to herself. What her eyes did of their own accord had nothing to do with her.<\/p>\n

Part 3<\/a><\/b><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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