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Summary: Sixth in a series.
A/N: I am not intending to completely rewrite every part of every script, if there are parts missing just assume they went the same way they did in the show.
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Wesley is stood in the lobby of the Hyperion with a broadsword in his face. He speaks stoically.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Cordelia is stood facing him holding the hilt of the broadsword and a long knife. Weapons are scattered all around them and are labelled with white tags. Gunn is sorting through them. “You’re just going to toss in a Prothgarian broadsword with a third-century ceremonial Sancteus dagger?
“Hmm. Let’s see. Long, metal, point.” She pauses for a while. “Yup.” She puts them in a wooden-chest. Wes grabs them back out.
“Cordy, the purpose of an inventory-” Gunn holds up a sharp weapon.
“Yes, tell us that "purpose of an inventory" speech again.”
“Hey, this wasn't my idea.”
“No, Angel keeps complaining that the weapons cabinet is all "different". But Wes, who's the boss around here? You, or the guy with the pancreas dagger?”
“What time is it?” Fred is in the corner making something with plywood and a battleaxe. The gang looks at each other and roll their eyes.
“6:24. And for those of you playing the home game, that's exactly three minutes since the last time you asked.”
“Sorry. I just ... see, I have this theory? Where the more you're aware of time, the more slowly it moves, which could make light-speed travel possible, but only if you were to concentrate really…”
“He'll be back when he's back.” Fred looks at Cordelia, busted, then goes back to her invention.
“So, now that she's alive again are they gonna get back together? Angel and that girl with the goofy name?”
“Well, Fred, that's a difficult question, really. I think it's fair to say... "No". Not a chance. Never, no way, not in a million years, and also, "nuh-uh".”
“But you said he loved her. And of course she's gonna love him back, 'cause he's so strong and handsome and he really listens when you talk - I mean, if you go for that sorta thing -- why wouldn't it work?”
“Lemme break this down for you, Fred.” Cordelia starts to imitate Buffy. “Oh, Angel. I know that I am a Slayer, and you are a Vampire, and it is impossible for us to be together, but-” Wesley joins in with his own imitation of Angel.
“But my gypsy curse, and our hot little loins, sometimes prevent us from seeing the truth. Oh Buffy-”
“Yes, Angel?” Wesley frowns.
“I love you so much I almost forgot to brood.” Gunn laughs. Fred just looks confused.
“And just because I sent you to hell that one time doesn't mean we can't be friends.” Wes grabs Cordelia around the waist, getting into it.
“Or possibly more?”
“Gasp! No! We mustn't! You'll lose your soul!”
“To hell with my soul!” he pauses realising what he just said. “Again! Kiss me!” Cordelia responds with a passion filled voice.
“Bite me!”
“How 'bout you both bite me?” Angel appears and Wes and Cordelia shove each other to opposite ends of the room, mortified. Gunn whistles, low. Fred jumps up, happy.
“You're back!”
“How'd it go?”
“I think those two pretty much summed it up.” Wes glances at Cordelia. Big guilt. “To be honest, I don't really wanna talk about it.” Cordelia looks surprised, hurt.
“But Angel, we're your friends. And it's not healthy to repress stuff like this. You have to share your pain, express those feelings of grief and longing, cause if you don't the curiosity's gonna kill me.” Angel’s voice is deadpan when he replies.
“Oh no. Wouldn't want that.” Fred raises her hand.
“Personally, I don't care at all what happened.” Cordy puts on a winning smile, says through it:
“Shut up, Fred.” Angel looks down, a moment, says sombrely.
“Actually... you know what I need right now?” They look at him expectantly. “Ice cream.” He turns to Fred. “You wanna get some ice cream?”
“I like ice cream.”
Angel smiles, gives a look to Wes and Cordelia. He and Fred walk towards the
door. “My favourite is cookie dough fudge, do they still do that?” She pauses
realising Angel has stopped walking. She turns to look at him. “Angel?”
“Um Fred maybe you
and Angel should take a little rain-check.” Angel walks up the stairs leaving
Fred looking completely confused. Cordy looks at Wes and Gunn before going
after him. Cordy knocks on Angel’s door and enters when she hears no answer.
She sits beside him on his bed. “I’m sorry about…it was just a joke.”
“Everything?”
“What?”
“Was it, while we
were living it, was it a joke?”
“Angel no we were
just trying to lighten the extremely depressed mood. It was never like that.
Fred didn’t mean to upset you.”
“She couldn’t have
known it was her favourite, or about that day. Buffy does.”
“Does what?”
“She knows about
that day.”
“Was she mad?”
“No, just sad. But
not about that.”
“What about?”
“She was in heaven.”
“I guess this means
some weekend trips to the good ol’ ‘Dale.”
“Yeah.”
“Angel can I
just…don’t be Mr Broody around her, it won’t help. Chances are it’ll make it
worse.” Cordy smiled at him and patted his shoulder before leaving him to his
thoughts. Downstairs the guys are still doing inventory and Fred is waiting
patiently for Cordy to come back so she can explain. The minute Cordy appears
Fred pounces on her.
“Why did Angel go
all weird? Why is he upstairs? Why is he not smiling no more? Why can we go for
ice cream now?”
“All can be
explained Fred in pretty much 4 words. It was her favourite.” Fred pauses and
is obviously examining those words, realisation crosses her face.
“Oh I never meant to
upset him.”
“You didn’t, he’s
just upset anyway. But he said to promise you that he’d take you for ice cream
tomorrow night.” Fred manages a small smile.
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“Upset? Don't be ridiculous. Why would I be upset?”
“Lorne, I'm sorry about the bar, but right now Fred is missing, and we need your help.”
“Oh really? Well I am not some mystical vending machine, here to spit out answers every time you waltz in with a problem. I have a heart. Granted, it's located in my left buttcheek, but it's still a heart, and that heart is broken. I mean, why is it nobody ever cares about my destiny? Everyone who walks through that door is all about "me, me, me" -- what about my me? My me's important!” Suddenly Angel gets the point of this little diatribe:
“You know where she is, don't you?”
“And another thing, how... how do they get the pimentos in the olives? There's a mystery for ya. Does somebody stuff each one by hand, 'cause that seems a little time consuming, or is there just some kind of pimento ... stuffing... machine...” The Host trails off. Knows Angel's not buying it. “Fred doesn't wanna see her parents she has reasons for that. Why force a showdown when you don't have to?”
“Because it won't be over.” Both know there is much more to what Angel just said than in reference to Fred. Angel pauses while he really considers what he just said. He realises that he doesn’t really have time for that and continues. “They found her once, they'll do it again. At least this time we can be there to protect her.” The Host looks at Angel, weighing his decision. “Please. Tell me where Fred is. I know you're not a slot machine.”
“Vending
machine, ya big palookas. All right. Just play this one delicately, bro, cause
it's gonna get messy.”
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The gang sat down in the lobby to the pizza. Angel stared at the box.
“Fred are you okay now?” Fred looks up at him surprised.
“Yeah sure.”
“Good because I have to be somewhere.” Angel grabs his coat and walks out. Fred’s parents stare at each other and then look to Fred. Wes and Gunn glance at each other before looking to Cordy. Cordy just sighs.