What was the plan, again? Buffy was talking in his ear, something about sigh number eight being the one where the world wasn't going to end, but he'd run out of hairgel again, and the stores were all closed. Angel thought about giving the speech he'd been preparing for two years now, about his hair products and how it wasn't nice to make fun of them because they kept his confidence up in bad situations, and God knew having a good outlook on the world when it might get destroyed any day now was worth tithing half his income to L'oreal... but he really couldn't remember how it went. He had it written down somewhere.

Giles was talking to Wes about the boring Watcher thing again, and it really *was* boring, especially in Latin, and Cordelia was saying something to Gunn about buying Spike and Xander their own separate walk-in fridge, for all their food-sex stuff, and maybe locking them in, if necessary. After all, no one would find them for a few days, but Spike would manage to keep Xander warm, undoubtedly.

And Angel was just thinking that there must be *something* he could say that would magically make all of this go away, and get his lovers upstairs into a nice warm bed -- or a nice hot tub -- with him, if only he could figure out what it was. "Gunn, can I talk to you for a minute?" slipped out of his mouth before he could realize what a good idea it was.

It got Gunn's attention, and he was even now taking a step towards Angel. Excellent. Now just to say he wanted to talk in private...which, since everyone seemed to be crowded into the lobby, it wasn't a far-fetched idea that they would have to go somewhere *else* to talk. Like, upstairs. And if they didn't actually talk once they got there....

"Oh, hey, lemme do something, first. Promised Willow and Tara I'd show them the armoury -- they wanna see the chain mail. See how the steel might take spells."

Angel closed his eyes, briefly. There was a reason he couldn't just throw his lovers over his shoulders, and head upstairs. Right? Was it because he wasn't evil? He didn't think it was....

It couldn't be because Gunn had threatened to kick his ass the next time he tried that in non-immediate-family-company without receiving prior permission. Granted, Angel was having a tough time figuring out just who did and didn't constitute 'immediate family' these days. For instance, did the mailman count? Should he limit it to the people who had seen Xander naked? Fully naked, that is. Without the sequined g-string.

Nor did the thought of Xander in or, worse, out of, a sequined g-string, improve his mood. Spike and Xander were undoubtedly having sex, right this minute. Lots of sex. Messy, noisy, perverted sex. Why couldn't he have sex? Even a little sex. A tiny bit of sex. What had he ever done to deserve less sex than Spike and Xander?

Oh. Yeah. That. Well, okay, but still.... And that. And then there was that night in Budapest... And the time in Petersborough with the mayor and his lovely daughters...

"Stop that!" Wesley ordered.

Angel flinched, and looked up guiltily. Not that he should have to, he told himself silently. Very silently, so Wesley couldn't scold him again. Wait, who was in charge around here, again? Angel shook his head. He hadn't *meant* to start brooding, it was just the default when his lovers proved stubborn. "What?" he asked, in a desperate attempt to halt Wesley's progress towards whatever he was about to do. Angel didn't trust the look on his face, or the way he was raising one starting-to-glow hand.

"I'll turn your hair pink," Wesley threatened.

Angel's hands flew to his hair, as several of their onlookers laughed. Angel was tempted to glare at them, make them clear off and do something other than stand around and watch him fail to entice two mere human men into going upstairs and getting naked. He'd been doing it successfully for years, now. What was going wrong today?

Wesley was smirking, which earned him a glare. Didn't seem to faze him at all. Darnit, hadn't Wesley *said* he and Gunn were in charge? Unless... was Wes under orders from Gunn? They didn't exactly have any set procedure for what Wes should do if Gunn wanted one thing and Angel wanted another. Well, no, they did, which was, agree with Gunn and laugh at Angel, but... Were they conspiring against him, to make sure he didn't get any sex?

Was it 'deny sex to Angel' day, and no one bothered to inform him? Maybe he should ask Cordy, who knew everything. But then Cordy would know he wanted sex. Or at least that he wanted to get Wes and Gunn alone, with sex somewhere on the agenda. But she probably already knew that, anyway, since she knew everything, right? Possibly he was getting a little paranoid. Maybe.

He found Wesley still frowning at him, so he made an effort to *look* as though he weren't brooding. He held the expression for a moment, and was rewarded by Wes' frown lightening. Angel smiled, tentatively, and Wesley smiled back.

"Better," Wesley said. Which was nice, but still didn't get him upstairs, naked, with company. The *right* company. He could ask half a dozen other people in the room, and probably get a 'yes'. Not to mention sleeping on the couch for a year. The couch in Spike and Xander's suite. Angel sighed. When Wesley started to frown, again, Angel stifled the sigh and tried for a neutral expression. Buffy and Giles were whispering again, and two more bills appeared on the table.

Angel wondered idly if the Host would be able to pick up his immediate future, if Angel pulled him aside and sang something innocuous and apropos, like 'They're Coming To Take Me Away...' for him. Which, as far as he could remember, had no actual tune for him to mangle. But it was a song. It *might* work. But then, of course, the Host would know. Though he probably already did, considering the way he was whispering with Cordy, who knew everything, over by the stereo system.

Come to think of it... Angel looked around at the collection of people he'd for some reason been insane enough to invite to stay in his hotel, and wondered if they *all* knew. It made an insidious sort of sense. They were *all* conspiring to stop Angel from getting any. Of anything.

Fine. He would just go upstairs, by *himself*, and jerk off. By himself. He didn't need anyone on their knees in front of him, helping. Didn't need anyone squirming around on the bed beneath him. Didn't need-- Angel stopped himself before he flung Wesley over his shoulder and carried him upstairs.

He did keep all traces of frustration off his face as he turned and headed for the stairs. Two steps later Buffy called out, "Angel! You can't go!"

"Why not? I'm not going to brood," he added, with a quick glance at Wesley.

Wesley gave him a curious look. "Well, I can certainly say you've been social for much longer than usual." He nodded, then said, "Did you want some company?" Angel felt like cheering. Flinging Wesley over his shoulder and running up the stairs. Catcalls be damned.

"Hey, everybody. Sorry I'm late." The doorway was filled with a tall, broad-shouldered form. Angel glanced down to make sure his body was still attached to his head. It was getting so he couldn't tell, this morning. Nope, all present and accounted for. Must be--

"Riley!" Buffy jumped up and ran to give the newcomer a hug.

"That's me. I really tried to make it back on time, but we got caught up in this Tarkoth uprising in... Well, I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you, and you're too cute to kill."

Angel heard a loud 'Grrrrrrr' and had to look down, yet again. That hadn't come from him-- he and Riley were long over that macho crap. Possibly had something to do with both being Buffy's ex. Or maybe the fact that Riley and Angel had gotten very, very drunk together, one night about four years ago, and wound up playing shuffleboard in the hotel basement until three in the morning. Angel had kicked his ass, and that was that. Well, that was the way he chose to remember it, anyway. So who was growling, now?

Angel looked over, and found to his surprise, that *Harmony* was stalking Riley, in full-game face. He didn't think she was scaring anyone, although that cooing noise Buffy was making might end up making him lose *all* interest in having sex. For half an hour.

"Harmony, sweetie, you *know* I don't like him that way anymore."

Riley was staring at his ex-girlfriend in astonishment. "Did I miss something?" he asked.

"She got over you," Willow said matter-of-factly.

"And replaced me with *her*?" Riley shook his head, apparently not concerned with the fact that Buffy had got over him a few years back, since they'd finally become friends again, a year later. "I'm not sure I can even be insulted by that," he finished, and Angel stifled a grin. Stifled, only because Buffy was closer to him now than she was to Riley, and that meant *he* would be the one to bear the brunt of annoyed Slayer.

"Hey!" Harmony protested. "You should be very insulted!" She stopped. "I think."

Riley turned to Buffy. "Since when did you start dating vampires?" Everyone in the room said absolutely nothing. Loudly. Riley blinked, then stuck out his tongue at everyone. Loudly. Angel could hear it. "You know what I mean. Real vampires." Angel didn't even bother to look at Riley loudly. Wesley was doing it for him. Which was heartening in its own way. Riley swallowed hard when he caught Wesley's glare, and tried again. "Vampires without souls."

"Hey! I have a soul!" Harmony stood up tall, and stared Riley right in the chest.

Riley glanced over at Angel, who nodded wearily. "Yes, Harmony has a soul." When she'd shown back up after two years doing God knew what, the choice was stake her -- which everyone but Cordy, and, surprisingly, Wesley, had voted for -- or curse her. Not surprisingly, the Chase Party had won.

Then Angel had found out why Wesley had voted with Cordy-- not, as suspected, because he was trying to do Cordelia a favor to get himself out of trouble for something, but because he had a spell to test. The 'formerly evil vampire now cursed with a soul gets to keep the soul even if they get happy' spell that involved being painted blue. Angel's Gold Card was still recovering from the shopping spree they'd sent Harmony on to test the 'moment of happiness' clause.

Riley was staring down at the top of Harmony's head. "Um... A soul. How nice for you. Do you also have a brain?"

She glared at him. "You're just jealous." She grabbed Buffy's hand and held it triumphantly.

Riley hesitated, then nodded. "You're right. I'm jealous." Then he looked over at the rest of the room. "Is there any wedding cake left?"

Harmony looked happy -- a safe enough prospect. Angel amused himself for a moment wondering if he should tell Wesley that he knew the spell hadn't required the singing, nudity, or Rodeo Drive. He hadn't argued because it had made Wes and Gunn happy. And Angel was, even if he refused to admit it out loud, a complete push-over when it came to Wesley and Gunn. Which was *so* not working in his favour, at the moment.

Angel watched Cordelia come over and take Riley by the arm, leading him towards the kitchen and saying loudly "We'll get some cake, in the kitchen, back in a moment" as if no one could tell they were going to the kitchen for cake. And he suddenly realized something -- which made him suspect everyone was right when they said he wasn't all that up on inter-personal relationship nuances, just yet.

Wesley had searched for, discovered, and implemented the spell, over a year before he became Angel's and Gunn's lover. Which meant he'd believed he was setting *them* up to be happily forever after. Without him. Without any *hope* of-- Angel stopped himself before he got sucked into a sympathy brood. He reached over and took Wesley's hand in his, and didn't say anything when Wesley gave him a surprised, then pleased, then curious look.

"What are you doing?" Wesley asked him, finally.

"Smiling. You think I should take it up full-time?"

Wes cocked his head. "I don't know. It's a bit disconcerting, head-on, like that. Perhaps if you just started small, with a bit of a wry grin?"

"Maybe you'd like to come upstairs with me and help me practice?" Wesley was about to answer him in a way that would make all his paranoid conspiracy theories go up in smoke-- Angel could just feel it. Then Wes stopped.

"Yes?" he said to someone standing behind Angel.

"Who *was* that guy?" It was Xander's high school friend speaking, the one everybody thought had gotten killed in the graduation melee, Angel realized after a second. Yet another person who threatened his 'tallest, broadest guy in the room' status.

"What guy?" Angel almost whined.

"*That* guy. That fatigues-and-muscles-and-muscles-and-fatigues guy," Larry said.

"Ah. That was Riley Finn," Wesley explained, with the barest hint of a wry grin on his face. "Would you like to be introduced?"

Larry nodded rapidly, but Buffy walked over and patted his arm. "Sorry, Larry. Riley's a girls-only kinda guy."

Larry stared at her. "So? I won't drool *on* him. I promise." She laughed, then stepped back towards Harmony when the vampiress tugged on her hand and pouted.

"I'm sure Cordelia will have him back in a moment." Wesley glanced towards the kitchen with a thoughtful look. "Although they should have returned by now. Why don't I take you--"

"No!" Willow leapt forward and grabbed Wesley's arm. "Er, I mean...they're probably just catching up. On old times. Which Riley and Cordy never really had any of so maybe they're finally getting a chance to bond, without anyone distracting them. Oh, look, here's Tara and Gunn. Did you two find the dagger we want to try to bewitch?"

Angel just tried to figure out why Wesley wasn't allowed in the kitchen. Unless Cordelia and Riley were-- no, then Cordelia wouldn't be dating Lorn. Unless she and Lorn were-- Angel decided he didn't want to know. Besides, the Host was here in the lobby, and the only guests *not* also here were Dru, and Dawn. Dru was upstairs, telling naptime stories to the fish.

And Dawn was dating Justin. Unless... Angel shook his head, suddenly terrified. There was a rule, somewhere. No thinking about Dawn and sex in the same paragraph. Which, shit, he just had. In the same sentence. Oh God, he was going to hell, now.

Except Gunn was back, and they were all three standing somewhere near the middle of the room, which meant they were nearer to the stairs than they'd been before. Which didn't seem very hellish. Maybe he was going to hell later, then. Gunn was holding out a silver dagger with a hilt in the shape of... Angel blinked. Was the hilt *really* in that shape, or was he more obsessed than he'd thought? He tried to pull his attention away from the dagger, and found himself looking at Gunn -- who was watching him, and waggled an eyebrow when he caught Angel's eye. Yeah, that helped.

"So, Gunn, did you wanna give us a hand?" Angel wondered if he had a sharp piece of wood he could stake himself with. He did *not* just say that out loud, did he? In front of everyone? Everyone, who were now tittering and grinning and *why* was Willow handing money to Cordelia who was heading for the kitchen again?

"With what?" Gunn asked, obviously not clued in to the 'vampire needs sex now' vibe in the room.

Angel tried to think. He'd had an excuse for going upstairs with Wes, right? Besides practicing his wry grins, that is. Oh. Yeah. His excuse for going upstairs was that he wanted to jerk off. And Wes had kindly agreed to accompany him. But he couldn't say *that* out loud, could he?

Everyone around Angel suddenly burst into laughter, and Gunn's eyes widened. "I'm a *what* ?" he asked.

Angel glanced helplessly around the room. Where were Xander and Spike when he needed them? Shouldn't they be here, doing something annoying and semi-indecent, to distract everyone from staring at him? Oh. Yeah. They *were* doing something annoying and totally indecent-- having sex, somewhere else, while Angel wasn't. Angel sighed. Again. For possibly the twelfth time. Which was a sort of brooding, wasn't it? Which meant he was getting away with it right in front of Wesley.

"What did you call me, Angel?" Gunn asked again, folding his arms and looking very foreboding. Angel stifled the urge to point at Wes and say 'he did it, spank him'. Except the way his luck was going today, Gunn would -- without letting Angel into the room.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, trying to placate his lover -- and realized as he did so, he was walking right into actually saying 'would you two please go upstairs and have sex with me?' That wasn't a *bad* thing, not really, but it was embarrassing to have to *say* it out loud, in front of people. He was supposed to be the cool, suave, mysterious vampire guy. He shouldn't have to whine.

Then again, if he could manage to say it calmly and collectedly, he might just come off sounding all modern and straightforward and hip. Or cool. Or whatever the whippersnappers these days were calling it. Not like he was two hundred and almost fifty and grew up in an era when asking two men, one black, in public, to have sex with you might result in all of you getting lynched. If all he got was snickered at by his friends and family, it was actually a hell of a lot better, come to think of it.

Even if the two men snickered at him, too. Especially if they *always* snickered at him and were likely to snicker at him for the rest of his unnatural life. And they would, if he didn't say this just right. Angel blinked, smiled tentatively at Gunn, who was still waiting for his answer, and opened his mouth.

"What'd I miss?" Dawn asked, excitedly. Angel closed his mouth. Then he was startled when *everyone* in the room, besides himself and his two not-naked and not-upstairs-with-him lovers glared at her. She looked sheepish, and smiled. Then she glanced at her watch, and looked innocent.

Angel glanced at his own watch, wondered why it mattered that it was 11:01 a.m., then decided he didn't care, didn't want to know, and looked back at Gunn and Wesley. He opened his mouth again, discarded the first line and opted for the second, then as he said "Would--" decided that maybe the first way was better and went back to that. So what actually came out of his mouth wasn't about going upstairs to have sex, at all.

"Would you two marry me?"

"Wahooooooooo!" shouted Dawn.

Angel glared at her. But it was too late-- instead of the quiet moment that he was expecting, looking at their faces and waiting for them to answer, there was pandemonium. Cordelia was running for the kitchen, yelling "Nobody move! I'll be back with the whiteboard in a second!"

Buffy was strutting around Giles in a circle, doing some kind of primitive African tribal dance, flinging her hips and shaking her butt and chanting "Go Buffy, you're the Slayer. Who's the woman, uh-huh, uh-huh..." and holding out her hand. Giles was rolling his eyes, but finally slapped the entire pile of cash into her palm. "Uh-huh, that's right, uh-huh..."

Harmony was squealing at the top of her lungs-- Angel couldn't tell what she was saying; he wasn't sure she *was* saying anything, though he was fairly sure that blood was pouring from his ears, now. Willow and Tara were hugging each other, and Lorn was looking positively mushy. Other than that -- Gunn and Wesley were just staring at him. Angel tried for another wry smile.

"First you call me a jerk off, now you want me to marry you?" Gunn demanded, but he was obviously trying very hard not to burst into a stupid grin.

"I didn't *call* you a jerk off," Angel protested. "I want-- um. Er." There were more bursts of laughter, and Angel wished once again he'd stayed in bed this morning. After having tied his lovers in the bed with him.

Wesley opened his mouth -- to say what, Angel didn't find out, because Cordelia came back into the lobby, yelling, "Who let her enter the pool?!?"

They turned to see Cordelia carrying a whiteboard, which she set down facing everyone. It was a three-way grid, with dates, times, and 'Angel asks' 'Angel chickens out and Wesley asks', 'Angel chickens out and Gunn asks' and a variety of other categories he didn't want to know about. Names of his so-called friends and family filled in the grid.

People were crowding around the board, which should have meant that they were leaving Angel alone with his lovers, but no. The three of them were pushed along with the crowd, until he was suddenly standing next to Dawn, instead of Gunn, and Wesley was being grabbed round the neck by Larry. Angel could hear him choking out a request for air. Larry just laughed, and said, "Man, I can't believe it-- who knew that not only was Harris gay-- well, who besides me knew-- but everybody he knows, too!"

"Um, I'm not," Riley said, smiling politely.

"So who *won*?" Harmony asked, in a non-brain-melting vocal range, now.

Dawn, who was happily counting money, stood up on a chair, and said loudly, "For the benefit of everybody who entered the 'who asks first' pool-- nyah nyah-- none of you won. It was Drusilla. For the benefit of everybody who entered the 'who wins the who asks first pool' pool, that would be... me!" She jumped down from the chair and began to copy Buffy's tribal dance, motion for motion. It was rather frightening. "Go Dawnie, you're the winner, uh-huh, uh-huh..."

"You *ran* the pool! You weren't allowed to enter!" Cordelia snapped.

"I wasn't allowed to enter the "who asks first" pool," Dawn replied, not stopping her dance. "Nobody said anything about the 'who wins the who asks first pool' pool." She paused to stick her tongue out, and continued dancing and chanting. "Go Dawnie, who da woman...." Angel was watching her sway her hips, and realized he was *definitely* going to hell.

"I thought you simply wanted us to go upstairs and help you 'jerk off'," Wesley said, thankfully distracting him. Then he realized what Wes had said, and wondered if he weren't *in* hell.

"Um," he replied, glibly. Definitely in hell, because they had known all along, and they still weren't saying 'yes, of course, let's go upstairs and have sex'. They hadn't answered his question yet, either. He started to give them his best pout, the one he *hadn't* taught Spike, no matter what anyone said, when Wesley muttered under his breath and headed towards the office.

At which point Angel realized he'd been hearing the phone ring, and that the answering machine was still broken, because it hadn't picked up. It stopped ringing and Wes didn't immediately reappear, so Angel supposed he'd caught it. Great-- prolong the agony, why don't you, God. It was probably someone trying to sell them a subscription to some obscure occult journal that Wes didn't already take, which meant Wes wouldn't return for another half an hour, especially if the guy went into the hard-sell routine. Wes would come back with three new subscriptions, a free bonus gift of some cursed antique or other, and a guilty grin on his face.

Dawn had stopped dancing and had disappeared, Angel noticed, as he tried to make his way over to Gunn. A moment later, he found out why, as Dawn reappeared on the stairs, Drusilla in tow. Well, not literally in tow, since Dru's arms were full of the piranha tank that she was carefully holding in front of her. When she saw Angel watching her, Dru grinned blindingly.

"Angel, I've won the pool! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Um...yeah..." he said, bemusedly. It occurred to him that Cordelia might have had a point about letting the psychics enter the betting.

"Now my little ones can go swimming with Auntie Dru!"

"I don't think they meant *that* pool," Angel began.

Drusilla frowned at him, then she pouted. Arg. Oh, to be evil again just so he could withstand those pouts...for a while. "I don't get the pool?" she asked.

"The money we bet, remember?" Dawn spoke up, trying to sound excited for her. "On who was gonna ask who to get married?"

Dru just pouted some more. "Where will my babies swim, then?"

Angel sighed. He knew he was going to regret this -- but Wesley was coming out of the office, much sooner than he'd feared, so he didn't care anymore. "Yes, you can have the pool, Dru."

She squealed happily, and swept away. "Come on, my dears," she cooed at the piranha. "Let's go swimming!"

Dawn rolled her eyes at Angel, and he shrugged. Like anyone didn't *know* he was a pushover when it came to Dru. So was Spike, and no one ragged on *him* about it.

Trying not to look nervous, Angel waited as Wesley walked up to them. Right before he reached the center of the group now facing Angel and Gunn, Gunn turned to Angel and said, "Yeah, sure."

"Huh?"

Somebody -- felt like Buffy -- elbowed him, hard. "He said 'yes', doofus."

"Oh. Um, oh." Angel knew he was grinning like a dorky loon. Didn't care. Before he smashed his lips onto Gunn's, he turned to Wesley.

Who was watching them with a quiet expression. His eyes were shuttered, and all he said was, "I have to go to England."

The room erupted into 'What?'s and 'why?'s and 'you can't go *now*!'s. He waited until the noise had dimmed a bit, before explaining.

"My father's had a heart attack -- not bad, I'm assured, but he's in hospital and I should be there."

Angel said nothing for the span of one heartbeat, then, "We'll go with you."

Wesley smiled, gently. "That isn't necessary -- and I'm not certain my family would appreciate it. Being accompanied by my two male lovers -- one of whom is a vampire?" He shook his head. "I'll only be gone one night, possibly two."

"You sure?" Gunn demanded. "Because we can go, pretend we're just, you know, good friends."

But Wesley shook his head. "That won't be necessary," he said again. "But I appreciate the offer." Wesley took half a step before Angel realized he was intending to go *now* -- teleporting to England. He started to reach out and stop him, when Wesley gave him a ever-so-slightly mischievous smile, ruined only by the shadow in his eyes. Wesley leaned forward and kissed him. "I'll give you my answer when I return."

Then he vanished.

Angel supposed he must have looked shocked. Or flabbergasted. Or just dopey, which Cordelia was always happy to assure him he looked all the time, so he didn't need to worry about it. He was staring at the empty space where Wes had been standing, when Gunn nudged him. "Uh... yeah...?"

"He'll be fine."

Angel blinked, then nodded. Of course he'd be fine-- Wes was the strongest one of them, when the shit really came down. Angel would just rather they were with him, so they could all be fine together. "Yeah, I know. At least 'til he gets back here and I get even with him for making me wait for my answer."

Gunn gave him the big brown eyes. The 'don't shit me' eyes. "You did mean that, right? That wasn't some 'Spike and Xander did it, so I gotta do it too or they'll think I'm an unromantic dork' thing, was it?"

Angel blinked at him. "Am I a newt?"

Gunn blinked back. "What part of 'did you mean that' sounded like 'are you a newt' to you? Harmony break your eardrums or something?"

"Well, yeah, there's a distinct possibility. But I mean, did I turn into a newt? I'm still under that spell, you know."

Gunn's eyes widened, and he broke into the shit-eatingest grin Angel had ever seen on the man. "Yeah? You mean the truth spell? And Wes gone for two days, too. Heh. Oh, yeah, this is gonna be good. So, Angel, how do you *really* feel about my new truck?"

Angel glared at him. Then glared some more. Then twitched his lips in the beginning of what he hoped was a wry grin, and not a permanent facial tic. "I..." He realized everyone was looking at him, as conversations stilled.

He thought fast, which was really rather amazing, the way this morning had been going. Leaning forward, Angel grabbed Gunn by the shoulders and kissed him. Hard. Somewhere in the first five seconds, things shifted, and it became less about distracting Gunn and more about Angel getting distracted, himself. Somewhere in the next ten, it got all mushy and damn-straight-I-was-serious and don't-worry-everything's-gonna-be-fine, but Angel was a bit too distracted to notice when it happened.

When they finally broke the kiss, the chorus of 'awwwwwwwww's and other mushy-sounding things almost drowned out Gunn's whispered, "Chickenshit..." But the grin on Gunn's face wasn't shit-eating at all, anymore.

Angel just looked back at him as though he didn't have a clue what Gunn was talking about. Gunn just looked back as though he knew damn *well* Angel knew exactly what he was on about, and don't think you're wriggling out of this one. Angel just looked more clueless.

Then Gunn asked, "I been meaning to ask--" and Angel *knew* he should just throw Gunn over his shoulder and run upstairs before Gunn finished his sentence. But he didn't. Because he was in hell. "You wanna dress up like a schoolgirl, again?"

"I wanna fuck you until you scream," Angel said simply, and threw Gunn over his shoulder.

"Yeah, but do you wanna wear the--" Gunn was saying, but the applause drowned him out, thank God.

Then Angel was upstairs, and couldn't hear the catcalls and comments about the ponytails, anyway. He made *damn* sure they all heard Gunn scream, though.

The End