•••

Wil forced himself out of his room, roused by tinkling laughter from the lobby. Rubbing his eyes like a just-woken child, he peered over the railing at the activity below. Cordelia and Fred were giggling like teenagers, rifling through a large collection of bags set on a table. After a few minutes, the blonde vampire shook off the last remnants of sleep and descended the stairs. Cordelia caught the movement in the corner of her eye and turned, smiling.

“How’s everyone’s favorite blonde today?” She chirped, winking for good measure.

Wil smiled softly, blushing. He was appalled at his reactions to such mild flirtations; it seemed that more and more of his pre-vampiric human nature was dominant now that he had a soul. Unfortunately, he had been extremely shy and sensitive as a human. He could still fight, and enjoyed beating up demons now that Angel actually let him help out, but the younger vampire still got flustered around others.

Cordelia smirked at the vampire. She loved making him squirm by flirting, especially since it was obvious that neither of them was interested—they made good friends and really enjoyed teaming up against Angel, but she just couldn’t help picking on Wil occasionally. “So, bleach boy, how went the beauty sleep?”

“Fine.” It had taken more than three months before the nightmares had leveled off to where Will got more than a few hours of sleep each day.

“Goodie! Well, Jr., in honor of your four month soul anniversary, Fred and I, and Angel’s credit card, have planned a little celebration for you!” Cordelia announced, dancing around a bit. She and Fred had gone all out for this little party.

Wil winced. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going, not at all. “Um…”

Fred did not pick up on the vampire’s hesitancy. “We went shopping at the mall. There are so many people at the mall, Wil. You would not believe how many people were there. And all those stores! I got this cookbook that we, you and me, can use sometime. It’s got that stir-fry stuff you like so much in it, and lots and lots of chocolate recipes, and I’m sure we can work some blood in them somewhere and wouldn’t you like that?”

The vampire couldn’t help smiling at the young scientist. Fred never failed to elicit a grin with her incessant ramblings. “Sure, luv. Chocolate stir-fry. With blood.”

As he had predicted, this set off another spate of prattling. “Chocolate stir-fry? Oh. Maybe vampires like chocolate stir-fry. I don’t know if I would though. I mean, do onions and peppers go well with chocolate? Maybe you’re right. Angel seems to like blood and vegetables, and you like blood and chocolate. Maybe the blood can tie in the onions and the chocolate?”

Wil choked back his laughter. He could see his Sire’s face when Fred proudly presented to him freshly sautéed vegetables in a blood-and-chocolate sauce. “You do that, Fred. I’m sure Angel would love it.”

“You! Some day Angel’s going to get back at the two of you for that stuff!” The pair looked at her with innocent, we-didn’t-do-anything faces. “Anyway, Fred, help me carry this stuff up to Wil’s room.” The two girls gathered up the bags and herded the vampire back up the stairs.

Wil began poking through the bags immediately. “Hells, Delia, what did you buy, the entire department store?”

The ex-cheerleader laughed. “Nope. Just the menswear department. Not to be insulting or anything, but the whole ‘black on black’ look is so…ugh.”

The vampire turned toward her, one eyebrow cocked. “And you took it upon yourself to change that?”

She grinned evilly. “Yes, as a matter of fact I did. Have a problem with that?”

Wil looked at the bags of clothes, then down at himself. Looking back at the clothes, he sighed and shook his head. “I’m not going to win this, am I?”

“No. Don’t even bother.”

“Fine.” He flopped down on the bed in defeat.

Cordelia cheered. “Fred, you need to start dinner. No chocolate stir-fry!” The young woman laughed and headed down to the industrial kitchen that Angel had had restored in the basement.

“Ok, buster, up off the bed. We’ve got work to do.” The vampire obediently got up off the bed, standing in front of the brunette. “Strip.” Wil stared at her, unaware that his mouth was hanging open. Cordelia burst into laughter. “Gotta love Victorian modesty! Here,” She pitched him his bathrobe. “We need to do your hair, root-boy.”

Wil ran a hand through his hair. He was sure that he had truly wretched roots at the moment; he’d neither bleached it nor had it cut since he’d arrived in L.A.. The vampire followed Cordelia into the bathroom, sitting on the commode as she indicated. It was then that he caught sight of the box she had in her hands. It was definitely not bleach.

“What’s that?” He asked suspiciously.

Cordelia looked down at him innocently. “What? Oh, this? Hair dye.”

“Not bleach.” He tried to read the label through her fingers. “What is that?”

The seer thought about trying to fudge her way out of it, but figured that it wouldn’t work. “Dye. I think it’s close to your natural color, judging by your roots.”

“My natural color?” Wil said weakly. He’d been white-blonde since the stuff had hit the market, and had grown accustomed to the color. “I like it…”

“You don’t have to look at it. I do. We all do. You don’t even have a reflection. Besides, the blonde clashes with your new clothes.”

Wil considered. Why the hell not? “Ok.”

“Well the, let’s get this dog-and-pony show on the road!” Within moments, the pair was engrossed in a heated discussion about karaoke and the likelihood that they could get Angel to sing Tom Jones, all the while up to their elbows in hair color.

“All done!” Cordelia stepped back from the vampire, admiring her work. The former peroxide-abuser tentatively ran his fingers through his hair, obviously wondering what he looked like. Smiling, the young woman rummaged through her purse, extracting a Polaroid camera.

“Vampire mirror. Smile for the birdie.” Wil looked up at her just in time to catch the flash. He was still rubbing his eyes when she waved the now-developed picture at him. “Well?”

Wil took the picture, unsure of whether he wanted to look. What he saw brought back memories. He’d almost forgotten what he looked like as a human, but the figure in the photograph was very close to that. Other than the unnaturally pale skin and modern clothes, the timid lawyer was right there. Honey-colored curls, angelic blue eyes peering through wire-rimmed glasses, and soft, conservative clothes. He smiled thoughtfully. It was nice, he thought. Not to be back like he was, but to be somewhere. Somewhere that wasn’t the bloodthirsty killer he used to be.

Cordelia was surprised when Wil enveloped her in a tight hug. “Thanks, luv.”

“No prob. Just remember to take care of the clothes. No nasty demon goo on mohair. Now come on, I’m sure Fred’s got dinner ready, and I heard the guys get back a while ago.”

•••

Angel and Wesley watched Fred scurry around the dining room, nervously arranging and rearranging things. The eating area had been a pet project of her and Wil’s, ever since the young woman had taken to making the newly ensouled vampire help her relearn how to cook. The other employees of Angel Investigations had taken great delight in watching Wil suffer though being dragged into the kitchen on a daily basis, at least until they had experienced the fruits of those labors. As it turned out, Wil could cook. Very well. In a few short months, he had turned Fred into a very good cook, although she did have a tendency to make…interesting substitutions when a called-for ingredient was unavailable. She also tried to work blood into almost everything.

“Oh! That looks great! I knew you knew what you were doing, Cordelia,” Fred said excitedly, rushing over to the door.

Angel turned to watch the girl. Then he saw Wil. The vampire thought he was hallucinating. His childe looked like a modern version of the human he’d once been. Gone were the plain black clothes and painfully blonde hair. The man in front of him was dressed in loose gray flannel slacks and a cream-colored pullover, accenting his pale skin and honey-colored hair. Cordovan loafers and delicate glasses perched on his face completed the image of a thoughtful, educated academic. Wil looked like he’d be at home at University, not a demonic investigations business.

“Wil?” Angel whispered.

“’Allo Angel. Delia thought you’d like to buy me something for anniversary.” Wil smirked. He liked knocking his sire for a loop.

“Anniversary?”

“Soul—four months and counting.”

“Oh.”

“You know, you can carry on the single-word conversation over dinner.” Cordelia herded the others toward the table where Fred had laid out supper.

Wesley pulled out a chair for Fred. “I must say, Wil, that you look…very nice. Much improved.”

“Thanks, I think. Blame it on Delia.” He winked at the ex-cheerleader, who just grinned in response.

“You know you love it, so just hush.”

The playful banter continued through the meal, which was good and did not include the feared chocolate and blood stir-fry, although Fred did manage to scare Cordelia briefly by mentioning it. All too soon it was time for business to start and fun to end, however. The end of the party came abruptly when Cordelia suffered a vision. Wesley, Angel and Wil all rushed to her side, Angel catching her as she slid out of her chair.

“Wes, get a glass of water. Cordelia?” Angel asked worriedly.

“Aack. Um…Big, hairy guys, lots of horns, red eyes. They’ve got kids…it looks like some sort of ritual—they’re gonna kill the kids,” Cordelia mumbled, still in the throes of the vision.

“Where? How many?” Wesley asked.

“Four, no, five. Mmm…Warehouse district, the old Percy building. You guys better hurry.” She sat up, pushing away from Angel, the vision over. “Go!” The brunette shooed the men out of the dining room, brandishing a glass of water.

“Are you sure? One of us could stay…” Wesley offered.

“Fred’s here. Besides, Gunn’s not here, is he? You’ll be shorthanded.” She pushed the trio out the door and toward the weapons room. “Wes, you might want to look them up before you go, though. They look like Chewbacca on a bad hair day. With horns. Lots of big, curvy horns.”

“Right. Hairy, horny demons…” Wesley began rummaging through books.

“Kragrlange demons,” Wil said softly, pulling down the appropriate text.

“Hmm…what?” Wesley asked, turning toward the vampire. “How do you know?”

“Tall, long-haired demons with six to seven brittle horns curving outward from the skull, "Wil read from the text.

“Yes, but that also describes half a dozen other species.”

“But the other species you’re referring to won’t touch humans. Besides, I’ve seen Kragrlange demons. They do look like Chewbacca on a bad hair day. They’re tough buggers, though. We’ll need copper blades.”

The ex-watcher considered the situation for a minute, and then nodded. If Wil thought that that was what their demons were, then so be it. He hadn’t been wrong yet. “Angel?”

The dark-haired vampire poked his head into the library. “What?”

“Copper blades. They’re Kragrlange demons.” Wesley’s eyebrows rose at the livid curses that burst from Angel’s mouth. “Not your favorite?”

“No. Wil, didn’t you run into some of them with Dru a while back?” Angel gave an apologetic shrug at the mention of this mad childe. Wil did not like being reminded of his century with Drusilla the Mad.

“Yeah. If I recall correctly, I ran away screaming like a girl,” He said, burying his face into a book, hiding his blush. Soul or no, it was humiliating to admit to such a cowardly action.

“You ran away? I don’t like this. I thought you’d enjoy the bloodbath,” Wes said anxiously.

Wil did not reply, choosing instead to continue reading through the text he was holding. “Um, Angel?” The blonde waited for his Sire’s attention. “Says here that these demons are strong magic users.”

“Great! Anything else? Maybe connections to Wolfram & Hart?” Angel said sarcastically.

“Umm…they do have a tendency to align themselves with the dominant organized evil in a given area…which would be our second favorite demonic lawyers,” Wil summarized from the book.

“Second favorite?” Cordelia said from the doorway, looking much improved. “Who’s our first favorite?”

“Me, luv,” Wil said, peeking over the top of his book. Cordelia flashed a smile at him even as Wesley groaned.

“You haven’t practiced law in over a century, Wil.”

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t kept up, does it?”

“Boys, boys. Demons, children, work to do?” Angel said, hefting a stack of copper weaponry. The trio exited the hotel amidst various moans and groans, hoping that for the first time ever, Cordelia’s visions would prove to be wrong.