*****

Lindsey trudged up the steps to his apartment, feeling broken. Every part of his body ached from the beating Angel had given him. He could feel the bruises forming on his face and other parts, including his ego. Well, not really. Getting beaten by a huge, strong vampire wasn't an ego bruiser. It was too expected.

It just hurt. No matter how many time it happened or how many ways Lindsey asked for it, Angel's fists hurt more than just his body.

And the fucking hand. He couldn't believe it. Sure, it could have been the other one, but Angel smashed his hand again. Luckily, he had a spare, and one that didn't look like a hunk of plastic. But Angel didn't know that and still he broke the hand.

As he unlocked the door to his apartment,Lindsey realized with the sudden clarity that comes with hitting rock bottom that somewhere along the line, his life had taken a wrong turn. Things were supposed to get better after graduating from college. He had gotten hired by the most prestigious law firm on the West Coast, made tons of money, had a fantastic apartment, expensive clothes, and enough clout to have almost anyone he wanted. For the first time in his life, Lindsey had a real future.

Then, that damn vampire had messed everything up for him. Angel waltzed into his life, shown him that Lindsey had other - cleaner - options, opened new doors, new possibilities, then rejected him the moment Lindsey made the wrong choice.

"Like he's never fucked up," Lindsey muttered angrily.

It had been easy to latch onto Darla. He had been lonely, rejected, longing for something that he couldn't have - again. So, he chose her. She was beautiful, seductive, dangerous, and, most of all, marked irrevocably by Angel. Forever associated with him. Yes, it had been easy to fall in love with her. Or, rather, it had been easy to think he was in love with her.

Pulling off his jacket, Lindsey collapsed onto the couch. For a moment, he simply sat, staring into space. Then, his gaze moved to his boots.

His boots. He had pulled them on in a jealous rage, a sort of reverting to an earlier stage in life. His hick stage, when he had been nothing but an easy going hillbilly. Life had been simple then. Grow up poor, scrounge for food, play with your friends. There were no plans more complicated than to find some job that might pay the bills, find some woman to fuck, and find some friends to have drinks with at night. Easy. Simple.

Frustrating. No future, not prospects, no hope.

Lindsey wasn't sure why he had chosen this outfit. It had never made him feel any good. Even when he had been the person who wore these clothes, it hadn't felt right. Lindsey was not a good ol' boy and he never had been. As a child he had never fit in with the other boys. Lindsey wasn't like them; he was something much, much different.

Still, the boots and jacket had felt right at the time. He couldn't think clearly when he had realized that Darla had fucked Angel. The world seem to stop at that moment, then spin out of control. Beyond his control. And what better outfit to be a scorned lover in? So, the boots.

And now he felt like crap. He'd lost, lost Darla, lost Angel, lost himself.

What's worse, he looked like crap too. Angel had taken care of that.

What Lindsey needed were his *other* shoes.

Heaving himself off the couch, Lindsey went to the closet. Pulling a box from the hidden recesses in the back, he opened it.

A feeling of relief washed over him as he looked into the box. Just the site of the other shoes - the other outfit- made Lindsey feel better.

Much, much better.

* * *

"We have something to tell you, Cordelia," Wesley said nervously, his arms resting against the table.

Her eyes widened in alarm. "What's wrong?"she asked, her voice full of dread.

"Nothing," Wesley soothed. "I mean, something might be if you . . .well . ."

"Is this about the peanut butter on the ax? Cause that wasn't me."

"What peanut butter on the ax?" demanded Gunn.

"What? I don't know," she responded immediately, feigning confusion.

Angel snorted. "What is it with you an peanut butter?"

"I just like peanut butter, ok? It makes things taste good," Cordelia shot at him. Before anyone could ask anything about why she would need peanut butter to make an ax taste good, she turned back to Wesley and demanded, "So what is it? Tell me now before I get really worried."

Taking a deep breath, Wesley reached over and took Gunn's hand. "Gunn and I are a couple."

"Oh God! A couple of what?"

Angel rolled his eyes at his friend's denseness. "A couple, Cordelia. As in, together."

The light dawned. "Oh," she breathed, looking from one to the other. "So, this is supposed to be news?"

Wesley and Gunn exchanged glances. "Yes?" Gunn said.

"I find it really offensive that you think I'm that dense. I mean, I've only been watching the two of you for over a month. I kind of figured it out myself. You know, with all the nicknames, the handshakes, the groping each other's asses, and the suddenly finding something to look for together in the closet for hours on end. You guys keep the worse secrets. I thought you were going to tell me that you were a couple of demons or something." Cordelia turned in her seat and gestured at the Host to bring them some drinks. "Now, since you're finally out in the open, I'll buy you drinks. Sound good?"

"Umm, very good. I thought we were discrete," Wesley whispered to Gunn.

Angel snorted. "Wes, you have no idea how to be discreet."

Cordelia turned back. "Right. You don't. I mean, when you called him 'Sugarcake,' it was pretty much a dead giveaway. By the way, *sugarcake *? What the hell were you thinking, Wes?"

"It was in reference to something," the former Watcher replied indigintly.

"Oh. Well then, um, congratulations. I'm really happy for you."

The Host walked over. "What are we celebrating tonight?"

"Gunn and Wesley."

"Oh. Old news." He looked disappointed.

"It is?" Wesley asked.

"Honey, everyone knows. And I mean everyone. Word tends to get around when you play all over town. There's tape on you guys."

"I was wondering how Lindsey knew. I mean, I heard it from Kate who heard it from Lindsey. I couldn't figure out how he found out," Angel told Wesley and Gunn.

"And I heard it from this demon whose brother you boys took out. Sweet guy, really, but boy what an asshole his brother was. Couldn't sing a note to save his life either." The Host shuddered at the memory. "So, now that we've got you two taken care of, we just need to worry about Cordelia and Angel. So, how about it, lovelies? Any prospects on the horizon?"

Cordelia leaned forward. "Actually, I've been thinking about a few things. Remember a few months ago when Willow visited? She stayed with me, right, and we spent a lot of time f... - uh - talking and some of what she said felt really . . .sounded really, really good." The seer's cheeks flushed as she spoke.

Wesley, Gunn, and Angel exchanged knowing glances. The Host just grinned.

"So, I've decided to sign up for the other team, but only as bi-sexual. I'm not quite ready to give up my cock yet."

"That's really more than we needed to know there," said Gunn.

She made a face at him. "Well, I just wanted you to know in case I come home with a man some night. I don't want to hear it. I just wanted you to know that I'm only a half-dyke, not a full blown lesbian."

"We'll try to keep that in mind," Wesley responded.

"Good, So,my point is, Gunn? What do you think about Anne?"

Gunn nodded his head. "Go for it, girl; she's a hottie."

"Excuse me?" his lover demanded.

"You're way hotter, Wes. Got her beat hands down. Just, for Cordelia. They'd look real good together."

"Like a porno movie," Angel supplied.

"Right. Two beautiful chicks getting it on, probably all loud and "oh Anne!' - like. It'll be exactly like that."

The Host eyed them all like they were crazy. "Why don't you sing for us, Cordelia? I can tell you your chances."

The seer shook her head. "Naw, I want to play this straight."

"No, you don't; that's why you're going for a woman," Angel couldn't help saying.

She swatted him. "So, I've got my target. What about you, Angel? You need some one to keep you from brooding too much."

"I'm going to recommend staying away from blonds, which, unfortunately, rules me out," the Host sighed, running his fingers though his yellowish hair. He eyed Angel longingly, then added, "It's just your track record in that area . . not really my kind of odds."

Angel shook his head. "I'm ready to give up blonds for awhile. In fact, I think I'm ready to give up the whole relationship thing for awhile."

"Because those, what, seventy years that you abstained weren't enough, right?" Gunn shook his head. "Naw, man, you need to get laid. And with someone that isn't going to give you only dispair you like She Who Must Not Be Named. We don't need another epiphany; one in a life time is enough."

Wesley kissed Gunn's cheek. "I didn't know you read "Harry Potter."

"Dude, spend the longest time in the bathroom doing things that I know I don't want to see. It's on your night table; what else am I supposed to do? I can only jack off so many times."

"Don't need to hear it!" Cordelia snapped, shuddering.

"So, no blonds and someone who doesn't depress you," mussed Wesley.

"Oh, and no one that's going to make you too happy like Bunny did."

"It's Buffy."

"Whatever. It's still some stupid-ass white girl name," retorted Gunn, unphased by Angel's vehemence.

The Host eyed the room thoughtfully for a moment. Then, his red eyes lit up. "Angelcakes, I may have just the person. In fact, judging by the music, I believe that person is singing next."

There was a sudden rush of applause from those gathered around the stage and the scraping of chairs. Angel could feel the excitement level behind him rise, but as he was about to turn, Cordelia went white.

"Oh. My. God," Cordelia suddenly gasped, wide eyed.

*****
Part 2:

"What is it?" Angel asked, alarmed, as Wesley and Gunn's mouths fell open.

They all just shook their heads as the music began and someone began singing.

"I'm going out tonight -I'm feeling all right. Gonna let it all hang out Wanna make some noise - really raise my voice Yeah, I wanna scream and shout."

The voice was that of a siren: dark, sultry, and overwhelmingly seductive. It rode the boarder of being female and male, enticing and dulcet no matter which sex it belonged to. This was a voice made for the bedroom.

And it was so damn familiar.

He turned to face the stage. The world jolted around him, stomach dropping so fast it bounced back up into his throat when he saw the vision on stage.

"The best thing about being a woman is the prerogative to have a little fun and . . ."

"Is that . . " Cordelia started.

"I believe it is," replied Wesley.

"But . . .but, he's pretty," said Gunn.

Angel tried to force moisture in his suddenly very dry mouth. Starting at the red satin stiletto heels his eyes traveled slowly up the black silk stockings, to the very short hem of the red miniskirt, across the smooth expanse of flesh of the stomach to the black crop top and - where the * hell* did he get breasts? - to the long red hair that brushed her- his - her shoulders. From there, Angel moved on, eyes lingering on the red lips painted in a perfect pout before moving to the creamy white skin and, glinting beneath the long lashes, blue, blue eyes.

Angel found that his pants were suddenly two sizes to small.

"Is anyone else hot?" he asked, tugging at the neck of his black sweater.

The Host clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm sure it is to quite a few people, Angelcakes."

"Is that?" Angel couldn't finish his question.

"That, my dear, is the fabulous Lady Lindsey McDonald."

* * *

"Oh, oh, oh, go totally crazy - forget I'm a lady Men's shirts- short skirts Oh, oh, oh really go wild - yeah doing it in style" Lindsey sang, swirling his hips to the music.

Now he felt good. This felt right, it always had. Dressing up in Momma's clothes, getting pretty, putting on a show - that was what made him feel real. Happy.

Lindsey opened his eyes, tossing the long red hair of the wig back seductively and froze.

Shit.

Angel was in the audience.

Angel was looking right at him.

Angel was looking right at him like he were a bag of blood and the vampire hadn't fed in months.

Lindsey faltered for only a second, before he caught himself. "I wanna be free- yeah, to feel the way I feel Man I feel like a woman!" he sang to Angel.

The rest of the song was sung to the vampire, blue eyes locked on brown, unable to tear away, body moving just for Angel, singing just for Angel, calling just for Angel.

When the song ended, a few demons and humans leapt to their feet to help the fabulous Lady Lindsey off the stage and by her a few drinks. Usually, he stayed, reveling in the chance to flirt and be fondled, treated nicely. Tonight, however, Lindsey was not in the mood. He put down the microphone and bolted from the stage.

* * *

"Um, I'm going to . . ." Angel got up and left.

"Yeah, you go do that," Cordelia called after him vaguely, still in shock.

Angel pushed through the crowded bar in the direction Lindsey had gone.

The lawyer hadn't gone far. He was getting his coat at the door when Angel grabbed him and pulled him into a back room.

Slamming him into the wall and holding him to it with his body, Angel stared into Lindsey's made up face. "Lindsey?"

"Yeah." The lawyer scowled. "Happy? You found out my dirty little secret."

"Christ, Lin, I . . . .What the hell? I mean this is the second costume you've thrown at me in the past two days. What's going on? Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the same girl I've always been, Angel, just dressed up in Momma's clothes," Lindsey said flirtatiously.

The vampire pulled the wig off, dropping to the floor. Lindsey's face came into better view. Always a face that was somewhere between pretty and handsome, the make-up thrust it into goregous, defining Lindsey's features and sculpting it to perfection.

"God, you look even better like this," Angel couldn't help saying, his voice so clouded by desire it was almost a growl.

Lindsey smirked. "Like a little man in your woman? Or is it woman in your man."

"Whatever the hell you are, I find I like it a lot." Then, shaking his head to clear if of the lust-cloud that seemed to have settled over him, Angel looked closer at the man pinned beneath him. "I can't even see the bruises. I did beat you the other day, right? That wasn't a dream."

"My Momma taught me that a girl should always be able cover it up when her man got a little rough with her."

"That's quite a loaded statement, Lindsey."

"Maybe I'm sick of hiding who I really am and what- who I really want."

"You're not a girl."

"No, but I like wearing pretty clothes. I like going up and singing. How do you think I got my way through college? The scholarships only went so far. There were two options for a ton of money in a little time. With this one, I only had to spend time on my knees if I really wanted to."

"You look," Angel started, raking his gaze lustfully over Lindsey again, "really good. Edible, almost."

"Wanna taste?"

"You offering?"

"I have been since the day we met. I can only say it flat out in this."

Angel leaned down and kissed Lindsey, tongue ravaging the open mouth. Lindsey pressed himself against the vampire eagerly, whimpering softly deep in his throat.

The vampire pulled back. "Come on," he said roughly. He grabbed Lindsey's wrist in an iron grip and, dragging the lawyer behind him, went back inside the bar.

"I'm going home," Angel announced, walking to the table. "Will you guys be all right?"

Cordelia's eyes were as big as quarters. She, Wesley , and Gunn were all staring at him, opened mouthed. The Host, looking amused, ran a finger over his lips.

Angel glanced at Lindsey. He had smudged the perfect paint job. Raising his hand to his own lips, Angel found that some of the lipstick had taken residence on his lips.

He shrugged. "So, you'll be all right?" he repeated, dropping his hand.

"Uh huh," Cordelia managed.

"Good. See you tomorrow." Angel and Lindsey left.

"Uh huh."

The Host grinned at the retreating form and placed his hand on Cordelia's shoulder. "So, drinks?"

Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn all looked at each other a moment before saying as one, "Uh huh."

Fin