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“Angel? Is that you?”
“Yeah. Hey, Cordy! How are you guys?”
“We’re fine. Thought I’d call to check on you guys. Gun and Wes found this Medieval weaponry shop though and they’re buying lots of swords and maces and stuff, so be warned -- your Visa bill’s gonna be huge.” She took a deep breath. “So, how’s Slayerville going?”
“Good. Fine.” Then Angel remembered that book he’d found of hers. He couldn’t resist finding out some information. For the sake of information, of course.
“So, Cordy, I was cleaning and I–“
”Cleaning?” She scoffed. “You cleaned? God, is there an apocalypse coming or what?” There was muttered curse. “Oh, God, there’s an apocalypse coming! You’re doing things you should do! Quick, Angel, look around do you see some cats and dogs hanging out together?”
“Will you stop it? No apocalypse. I promise.”
“Whew! What were you going to say then?”
“I was cleaning in your room and--”
“Why would you do that?”
“I just was!” God! Would she just let him get to the point so he could grill her for answers?
“Angel, did you spill blood in my room again? Were you reading my magazines like before?”
“No!” He sighed. New tactic. “Guess what I’m wearing?”
“I’m gonna go out on limb here and say something black.”
“Very funny. Ha Ha Ha.”
“Are you wearing black?’
“Yes.”
“Knew it.”
“Can I continue?”
“Be my guest.”
“I’m only wearing black pants though.”
“Oh, you’re wearing a colored shirt then? Good for you! Did you get bold? Try something grey?”
“Cordy!” Then his tone turned smug. “No, I’m not wearing a shirt. At all.”
“Oh-kay. You don’t have any clean shirts? You spilled blood-“
”For the last time, no blood was spilled!”
“Alright. Touchy, touchy. But. . .why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t know.” This wasn’t going as well as planned. “Doesn’t it make you feel anything?”
“Annoyed?”
He swore he could hear her rolling her eyes. “Cordy!”
“What? Geez, did someone wake up on the wrong side of the coffin today?”
“I DON’T SLEEP IN A COFFIN!”
“Whatever! It’s called a joke. Look it up. Are you going mental on me? That’s it. The Slayers have driven you over the edge.”
“I’m not mental!” He sighed. “I promise you that I’m completely sane.” Was it too much to hope for a compliment? He needed to hear that a woman found him attractive. A living, breathing woman. “I found this book of yours–“
”Oh! Angel, I have to go, since you’re not mental and all. We reserved a table. The guys and I are going to this nice Mexican restaurant for lunch and margaritas. I’ll call you later!”
Spike slapped his hand on Angel’s shoulder, making the elder vampire wince. He’d heard the poof’s conversation as he’d come down the stairs and couldn’t help but comment. “I don’t think you’re completely sane, peaches.”
Angel turned around and slowly tilted his coffee cup, letting its contents fall on Spike’s bare feet. “Shut up, Spike.”
