•••

“Where’s Angel?” Cordelia asked sleepily. The last thing she remembered was listening to Wil, Wesley and Gunn argue about where to live in Indianapolis. That had been early in the day, and now it was well past sundown… and Angel was nowhere to be found.

“He went out with a realtor,” Xander replied. “To look at a house.”

“Who went with him?” She inquired. “Wil?” Other than the two vampires, the rest of the group was still in the single hotel room they were sharing.

“Nah, Angel went by himself. Wil’s getting dinner,” Xander murmured.

Cordelia sat bolt upright. “What?” She screeched. “You let Angel out to rent us a house—alone?”

Wesley, Oz and Gunn perked up at her indignant squawking. “Yeah, why?” Gunn asked.

“Have you seen the types of places he likes to live in?” Cordelia questioned the group. “With our luck, he’ll rent some putrid shack in a rundown neighborhood. We’ll be lucky to have indoor plumbing.”

Wesley rolled his eyes. “Cordelia, I doubt very much that Angel would procure us anything less than adequate housing.”

The seer was winding up for another verbal assault on Angel when Wil returned with food in tow. “Something wrong?” He asked seriously, having heard raised voices from outside.

“Cordy’s just bitching that Angel will pick some rat hole for us to live in,” Xander responded, grabbing at the carryout the vampire was holding. Wil relinquished the food and propped himself on the air conditioning unit, one of the few surfaces left to sit upon in the room.

Wil didn’t say anything about Cordelia’s accusations; mostly because he had a feeling she was right. Oh, Angel would make sure they had the required amenities—walls, a roof, electricity and phone service. Unfortunately for the living members of their group, the dark vampire didn’t consider climate control, water, and bathrooms to be necessities. He just hoped Angel splurged when he found a place to rent. He watched idly as the others slurped and munched on the finest cheap Chinese cuisine he could find nearby, wondering when Angel would return. He hoped it was soon; the hotel room was tiny—four of them would have crowded it, and seven was almost unbearable.

Angel returned less than an hour later. “Well?” Cordelia asked impatiently as the vampire closed the door.

“We have a place,” Angel replied. “Plenty of room, near several useful businesses.”

“Ah. What’s it like? When can we move in?” Xander asked excitedly.

“It’s charming, and I’ve got the keys,” Angel said.

“Charming,” Wil murmured. He knew his Sire well enough to know just what that meant. Instead of commenting, however, Wil simply grabbed a few bags and went out to the cars.

•••

“It’s…” Xander began quietly.

“It has character,” Fred stated tentatively. “Lots of character.”

Cordelia just stared. Gunn stepped around her and began to carry their personal belongings into the house. “Come on, Delia. Pick up something and help us move in.”

“We’re living in that?” She whispered. “It’s falling down!”

“Cordy, it’s a fine house,” Angel said shortly. “You’ll love it.” He pushed a bag into her hands and went back to the car for another load. Eventually she regained the ability to move and helped carry stuff inside.

“What about beds and stuff like that?” She asked Angel once they’d moved most of the stuff in.

Angel sighed and stared at one cracked and peeling wall. “We have money, and it’s not that difficult to get furniture. In fact, I was going to suggest we fix the place up a bit—paint, plaster…”

“Dynamite?” Cordelia offered hopefully. Angel glared harder at the wall.

Gunn chose that moment to rescue his girlfriend. “Cordelia, we don’t have a lot of choices here. The rent’s cheap and there’s room for all of us, ok? It won’t take much work to make the place livable.”

“Ok,” She said quietly, knowing that she really didn’t have many options. “But I want the master bedroom!”

No one argued with her; Wil and Angel had already laid claim to the basement, and the other couples wanted the upper floor bedrooms anyway. Gunn led Cordelia to the back of the house, hoping she wouldn’t decide to go on a tirade.

•••

“Did I ever mention how much I hate moving?” Xander complained as he scrubbed paint off his skin. He and the others had spent the last three days scrubbing, patching, painting and cleaning their way into better living conditions. Well, most of them had. Cordelia had co-opted Fred and gone off on a furnishings-buying spree, funded by a substantial stack of cash from Angel. Much to everyone’s surprise, the ex-cheerleader had done well in sticking to their budget. No one could figure out how she’d found every thrift store in town, but she had, and with a judicious bit of flirting and begging, had gotten everything delivered. With eight pairs of hands doing the work, the house changed almost overnight.

“It could be worse,” Gunn replied. “You could be in the basement.”

Xander winced. “Never mind.” Angel and Wil had spent most of the last few days in the lowest level of the house, mucking out junk and dust and unmentionable things. Now it looked good—patched and painted walls, rugs and furniture. Before, though, it had resembled something from a horror movie set.

“What’s for dinner?” Fred asked as she carried a paint tray into the kitchen. “Tell me it’s not eggplant paint. Please.”

“Angel went out for something,” Xander answered. “I think we’re having another family meeting later on.”

“Oh. I guess it really was too good to last,” Fred murmured.

“Huh?” Gunn grunted from the ladder he was standing on. He was almost done painting the kitchen ceiling.

Fred shrugged. “Since we’ve been doing this, we’ve not talked about the other stuff, you know,” She said. “I knew it would change, but the break was nice.”

Xander leaned over the sink, staring out the window at the house next door. “It was, but we need to do something. We’ll go nuts, all of us in this house with nothing to do.”

•••

“I take it our home improvement vacation is over?” Xander asked as he polished off the last piece of pepperoni pizza. The entire gang was lounging around their new dining room table, the remains of several pizzas scattered around amongst sodas and blood.

Angel nodded. “Yes. We need to decide what we’re going to do, and how.”

“You haven’t thought that up too?” Cordelia snapped.

“No,” Angel said softly. “You, after all, are the expert on Wolfram & Hart.”

“Oh,” She murmured. “So…”

“I guess we need to decide what to do first then?” Fred asked.

“What would be the least obvious thing?” Oz inquired.

“I thought we established that less-obvious kicked our asses last time,” Gunn snarled.

“Not that kind of not-obvious. The ‘it’s happening to everybody’ not-obvious,” Oz explained.

“Is there anything like that?” Wesley asked Cordelia.

“Hmm…” She thought for a moment before getting up to retrieve a computer. Once it was booted up, she scrolled through a few files. “The main things they’ve got are business partnerships with major corporations, stock market investments, shady connections with elected officials, and those scholarships.”

“Their stock holdings should have suffered along with everyone else’s,” Angel remarked when she was finished.

“You’d think,” Cordelia muttered. “But they avoided stock in the really corrupt companies. I mean, they helped those companies rip people off; they aren’t going to put their money in them.”

“You’re right,” Angel said. “So…”

“I’d say we aim for those officials,” Gunn stated.

“Why?” Xander asked curiously.

“Well, if they lose those people, then when some of their other stuff comes out, there won’t be anyone to cover it up,” Gunn explained. “If we try to break up the partnerships, or prove some sort of illegal stock trading, who’s going to care? Their pet judges will just sweep it under the rug.”

“How many judges and attorneys are we talking about?” Angel asked.

“A disgustingly large number,” Cordelia replied darkly. “I can believe it’ll take years to get through them all. They’re everywhere, at every level. Even the Supreme Court.”

“I guess that’s our goal then?” Xander asked the group in general. “How are we going to do it?”

“Dig up some proof of the connection, send it to some watchdog group and a few papers, see what happens?” Wil suggested. “Start low, work up to the top.”

“Hmm…” Cordelia hummed, flipping through more files. “It’ll be research-heavy, which means lots of work for those of us who like that sort of thing.”

“We all like research,” Fred replied. “But I’m thinking that some of us are going to have to work. Really work.”

“Yeah,” Gunn murmured. “That cushion Angel’s got laid back won’t last forever.”

“There’s plenty of money,” Angel defended. “But it would be better if some of us worked—for more than one reason. The extra income would be helpful, and we won’t stand out as much if we act like the rest of the population does.”

“Because we blend in so well already,” Xander muttered. “So those of us who aren’t spending every waking moment researching need to get jobs?”

“Do you want to spend every day for the next decade on this project, without a break?” Wil inquired. “I certainly don’t. Actually, the idea of living a semi-normal life sounds rather nice—it’s not like we’ve had a lot of that lately.”

“What do you propose we do?” Wesley asked.

“Haven’t any of you had regular jobs? Ever?” Angel replied.

“Watcher,” Wesley shot back.

“Rich girl. Cheerleader. Failed actress. Receptionist. Seer,” Cordelia added.

“Musician. Werewolf,” Oz murmured.

“Physicist. Cave dweller,” Fred said.

“Vampire hunter,” Gunn stated.

“Doughnut boy. Punching bag. Delivery boy. Distraction. Short order cook. Vampire bait. Waiter. Fall guy. Bartender. Zeppo. Construction worker. Seer,” Xander spat.

“Lawyer. Poet. Ravening lunatic mass-murdering vampire. Science experiment. Full-time employee of The Powers That Be. Without benefits,” Wil finished.

“Ah,” Angel said. “Have you tried the classifieds?” He successfully ducked the Dr. Pepper Xander threw at him, only to get beaned by Cordelia’s Diet Coke.

•••

“I must say, Wil, Wal-Mart blue is really flattering on you,” Xander commented as he opened the Cavalier’s passenger door for the vampire. “It really sets off your eyes.”

“Xander, you’re wearing a yellow and brown striped shirt. I don’t think you can comment on what I’ve got on,” The blonde snapped as he got in the car. “Besides, I got ho-hos. Be nice to me.”

“Ho-hos? Really?” The Raphe echoed as he pulled out of the Supercenter’s parking lot. “You’re right, I shouldn’t make snide comments about the shirt.”

“If only the others would follow your lead,” Wil grumbled. He could put up with the humiliation of being a stock boy for Wal-Mart, but he’d prefer it if the others wouldn’t poke such fun at him because of it. After all, it wasn’t like their jobs were any better. Xander was a short order cook—again. Gunn had taken a position at a convenience store, and Oz was wiping down tables at a bar. Cordelia, Wesley and Fred devoted all their time to uncovering crooked politicians and Angel split his time between that pursuit, keeping house, and running errands—and protecting everyone else.

“Ah, think of it as a character building exercise,” Xander replied. He didn’t really mind his new job. Yeah, he’d rather not be a part of the high school dropout workforce, but he’d done worse. Besides, he got plenty to eat at work, and the environment was fast-paced enough to keep him entertained.

When they got home, they were greeted by no one. The house was eerily quiet in the wee hours of the morning, when everyone but Angel was asleep. The dark vampire was probably holed up in the basement, trying to be as silent as possible. “You gonna grab a shower?” Wil asked Xander as they crept down the hall.

Xander sniffed. “I’d better, or Oz’ll mistake me for breakfast.” Wil nodded and went to the kitchen to heat up some blood. When he was done, he rinsed his mug and headed for the cellar door. Angel was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

“How was work?” Angel asked as Wil stumbled downward.

“Mind numbing. I can’t believe I agreed to do this,” Wil muttered as Angel caught him.

“One of us has to stay here,” Angel reminded him. “I’ll work next time. I promise.”

“But will you wear one of these bloody shirts?” Wil asked, plucking at his stock boy uniform.

Angel grinned. “I’ll find something appropriately ugly.”

Wil nodded. “So, how was…”

“Not bad,” Angel replied. He tried to spend a few hours each night out on the streets, doing some semblance of a patrol. It wasn’t easy for him; unlike Los Angeles and Sunnydale most of the evil here was purely human, which meant he could do little about it. He didn’t want to jeopardize their safety by calling attention to his presence. Still, he did occasionally run into a vampire or demon up to no good. The rest of the time he tried to find a way to make things not happen—by distracting potential victims and criminals before they met up. It was almost a game.

“What about Cordelia?” Wil inquired softly, pulling off his clothes. The odor of the discount store, while not as obnoxious as that of a diner, was still enough to warrant action.

Angel sighed. “It’s not moving quickly enough for her, of course. Fred found some promising leads, as did Wesley, so I suppose they’re getting somewhere.”

“If they’ve gotten anywhere, it’s a victory,” Wil retorted. “The eight of us, working against something the size and power of Wolfram & Hart?”

“I know,” Angel said. “But try telling that to her. She’s driven.”

“She’s angry,” Wil countered. “Because of what happened to her, and to Fred. Because of a lot of things, really. I just hope she doesn’t let it eat her alive.”

“She’s not the one I worry about,” Angel murmured. “Fred’s getting better, but…”

“Wesley told me this morning that she had actually talked to him about it, a little,” Wil said quietly. “Maybe she just needs time.”

“Maybe,” Angel echoed.

Wil climbed into bed, beckoning for Angel to join him. “We can worry about that later, hmm?”