•••

"I thought we were going out," Wil muttered as he clambered down the stairs. It was just twilight, and while Wednesday wasn't exactly the most hopping of days, it was the only one where everybody was off work at the same time.

"We are," Angel reassured the blonde. "The pack's just finishing up a bit of practice." Oz was taking advantage of the acreage around their farmhouse by making the entire pack, plus Xander on occasion, perfect their hunting skills. It was very similar to what they'd done in Indianapolis, but more frequent and more extensive, since the property was private. "But you can ring the bell if you're in a hurry."

"No," Wil replied quickly. He hated the huge, cast iron dinner bell Xander had found in the barn. The Raphe mounted the thing on the porch, and rang it whenever he couldn't find someone… which for some reason was several times each day. Wil's constant threats to sodomize the seer with the blasted thing hadn't stopped him.

The blonde sank down into a chair in the living room, resigned to waiting at least another hour. All of the pack would want to bathe and change clothes before they went out, and they'd be lucky if they made it to dinner before the restaurants closed. Not that food mattered to Wil; he'd already fed. However, he wanted to go somewhere other than Waffle House. After all, they were celebrating tonight- Oz and Xander had hacked into one of their targeted bank's databases and gotten the attention of the feds. Now a significant portion of Wolfram & Hart's assets were frozen pending an investigation.

Just as Wil finally found something worth watching on television- a documentary on the Maginot Line- the missing investigators barreled into the house through the kitchen door, all but Xander in full wolf-mode. Wil cringed at the sound of claws scraping hardwood floors, knowing that he'd be the one to apply polish to the marks. Why couldn't they shift back before they ran through the house?

"They shouldn't be too long," Angel murmured as he sat down on the arm of Wil's chair. "Xander didn't have lunch."

Wil grinned. "You've got a point there. A hungry Xander usually equals light-speed bathing."

Sure enough, the gang was ready to go in less than forty-five minutes, considerably less time than Wil had originally anticipated. Xander bounced around the entranceway, waiting impatiently for Wesley to finish applying his glamour. The faun had taken to using the spell whenever he was off the property. It wasn't the most comfortable thing to have around him, but it was more effective than a floppy hat—which he still kept around for casual walks around the farm.

"Can we go to—" Xander started as they piled into the two cars.

"We're going to the old city," Cordelia stated firmly. "My manager told me there were good restaurants there."

"You know how to get there?" Wil inquired.

"Yeah. Take I-40 east to 388—James White Parkway," Cordelia replied.

"Shit. Road construction," Wil grumbled as he pulled away from the house. "There's no other way?"

"It would take a lot longer," She cautioned. "Besides, at this time of night, nobody's going to be on the road anyway."

"Says the girl who works during the day," Angel muttered. "There are a lot of trucks at night."

Cordelia shrugged and sat back. She didn't care, since she wasn't the one driving.

•••

“Wesley, look at all the motorcycles!” Fred exclaimed as they walked down the streets. The group turned to admire a long row of bikes, all polished for show. Wesley smiled softly, wishing once again that he’d been able to bring his own motorcycle with him.

“You miss yours, don’t you?” Xander asked the faun.

“Occasionally,” Wesley admitted quietly. “But only when the weather is good.”

“Hey, the restaurant’s just up ahead,” Cordelia reminded the drooling guys. “I do want to eat, you know.” The gang dragged their eyes away from the sights and followed Cordelia into a tiny Mexican restaurant. It was only partly full, so they easily found a table large enough for all of them.

“No, Xander, you can’t have the habanera chili sauce,” Oz stated when Xander began to peruse the menu. “You’ll throw up.”

“I won’t,” Xander muttered, even as he chose a different meal. “Spoilsport.”

Wil and Angel grinned at the Raphe’s petulant whining. They knew it was just for show; besides, if Oz hadn’t said anything, someone else would have. Nobody wanted to ride home with a sick demon in the back seat. The rest of dinner went by uneventfully; the vampires shared some violently spicy salsa while the others gorged on Americanized Mexican food and kibitzed about stuff unrelated to any of their work.

“I think you made a good choice this time,” Wil commented to Angel after a while.

Angel looked at Wil curiously. “How so?”

“I don’t think they liked Indianapolis very much,” The blonde replied. “They certainly seem to be more relaxed here.”

“Maybe,” Angel murmured. “Then again, Indianapolis was our first stop; we’ve all had time to adjust by now.”

“Perhaps,” Wil agreed. “Regardless, I’ve not seen Wesley or Cordelia this content since before we went to London.”

“Would you guys NOT talk about serious stuff for a few minutes?” Xander begged the vampires. “I mean, we came out here to celebrate and let loose, not rehash. We do that enough already.”

“Yeah. And, if you don’t pay attention to us, you won’t get any say in what we do next Wednesday,” Cordelia reminded the two men. “Right now, we’re considering going to the flea market, followed by the weekday church services down the—“

“Why don’t we go to the state park instead?” Angel suggested quickly. “Go hiking.”

“Vampires? Hiking?” Xander snickered.

“At night,” Angel defended. “Or would you rather go to church?”

“Reverend McFaddon won’t let us in his church,” Fred commented. “The last time I was in the post office, he hissed at me.”

“I thought hissing was limited to snakes, cats, and demons,” Cordelia commented.

“And preachers,” Oz added.

“Regardless, I don’t think we’d be welcome. He called me a hussy,” Fred said.

“It’s better than what he called me,” Xander muttered.

“What?” Wesley barked, alarmed. “What did he say, Xander? When?”

Xander shrugged. “I ran into him in the grocery store. He started shouting and screaming about hell. Called me a sodomite and a pedophile.”

Angel struggled to keep himself under control. As it was, his eyes flashed yellow. All of them had run into the preacher at one point or another, while shopping or paying bills. If it wasn’t him, it was one of his flock, pointing and commenting and generally being small-minded bigots. No one had done anything to them, at least not yet, so they tried to ignore it. For the most part, it worked; besides that, the majority of the community left them alone—not everyone liked McFaddon and his church.

“Angel,” Wil murmured low, so that only the dark vampire could hear him. “Xander can take care of it himself.”

“Ah, he’s just a stupid creep,” Xander said lightly. “But he does make life interesting, doesn’t he?”

“That he does,” Wesley muttered. “Never a dull moment.”

“So, do you guys want to go home, or rent a movie, or what?” Cordelia asked, seeing that everyone was finished with their dinners.

“Angel can get us a discount at Vince’s,” Xander reminded the group.

“I was referring to a movie that wouldn’t make all of us blush,” The werewolf seer replied sharply. “Unlike you, I do not require pornography to get off.”

Xander choked on his water. “Just taking advantage of the situation, Cordy.”

“Uh huh,” She hummed. “Sure.”

“Why don’t we stop by someplace on the way home?” Fred suggested. “See what’s out. If there’s nothing, we can always play Scrabble.”

“With demonic languages?” Gunn asked warily.

“It’s that or Pictionary,” Wil replied. “Somehow the Twister game got all… dirty. But Xander wouldn’t know anything about that, would he?”

“Nope,” Xander said, shaking his head. “I had nothing to do with that, did I, Cordy?”

Cordelia blushed deep red. “I wouldn’t know. Can we get out of here? I think we’re scaring the hired help.”

The gang ambled their way back towards the car, steering clear of the less savory groups that had aggregated along the streets for the late-evening drinking scene. They didn’t look dangerous, but the investigators didn’t want to take any chances, not on their free night. Despite their best intentions, however, trouble managed to find them.

“Faggots.”

Xander stiffened and whipped his head around. Five or six guys were walking along the street next to them, edging closer and closer. They were leering at the investigators, particularly at Xander, Oz, Wil and Angel, who were paired off as obvious couples.

“Lay off,” Gunn warned as he put himself between the men and Cordelia.

“Whatcha gonna do about it, darkie?” One of the men snarled.

“Got himself a white girl,” Another growled. “Damned slut, spreading it for a—“

“I wouldn’t remark upon their relationship,” Wesley said, cutting off the man’s tirade.

“Or what?” A third man asked rudely. “You’ll hit me, English? Pansy ass foreigners. Probably sucking his chocolate dick.” The man’s friends laughed at the crude statement.

“Goddamned faggot queers and foreigners,” The first man spat. “Disgusting Christ-killing, motherfuckers.”

“You know, it’s people like you that give the South, and humanity in general, a bad name,” Angel said calmly. One of the guys turned to insult Angel, but stopped cold in his tracks, causing another man to run into him.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, Dewey?” The guy said to his now motionless friend. The guy pointed at Angel. The vampire was in full gameface, eyes glowing a malevolent yellow. Wil too had shifted. The werewolves followed suit, letting enough of the wolf go to make their eyes change.

Angel stepped forward, until he was almost pressed against one of the men. The rest of the investigators surrounded them, pushing the men into a dark alley. Angel walked the most offensive guy backwards, sort of liking the strong odor of fear he gave off. “So you have a problem with us?”

“You don’t like us?” Gunn asked, growling in a rather un-human way.

“You think we’re dirty?” Cordelia added.

“Filthy?” Oz murmured. “Unclean?”

Xander darted from beside one man to stand just in front of another, moving so quickly it looked like he simply appeared out of nowhere. “Maybe you think we’re evil. Hmm…”

One of the guys shuddered and started to whimper. Oz had him pressed tight up against a wall and was sniffing his neck. “You think you can take us?”

“A bunch of fags?” Gunn snapped at one guy.

Wesley sidled up next to another man and let his glamour slip, showing his horns. “Queers and foreigners?” The man took one look at the horns and started to shake.

Wil gave his guy a hard shove into the wall. “How about queer foreigners?” He hissed, bringing his fangs to within an inch of the man’s neck. The vampire inhaled deeply and stepped back, letting the man sink to the ground.

“Did he just shit himself?” Wesley inquired, glancing at the prostrate man.

“I believe he did,” Angel commented, still staring down one guy. “So did this one.”

“Big tough guys crapped their pants over a bunch of fags?” Xander giggled. “Pansy-asses.”

“Seriously not scaring me here,” Cordelia snickered.

Wesley put his glamour back on and collected Fred from where she’d been growling at one of the insulting lowlifes. “I’m rather unimpressed, I must say.” Oz laughed, still wolf enough for it to sound eerie. He joined in the retreat, as did the others, until only Wil and Angel remained.

“I think maybe you should. . . forget you ever saw us,” Angel suggested to the only guy still standing. The others had sunk to their knees, quivering like fools.

“Just a figment of your imagination,” Wil added, eyes still glowing. “I’d lay off the booze, if I were you. Makes you see things.” The guy blinked. “Doesn’t it?” Wil encouraged. Angel reached for the blonde and the two retreated to the mouth of the alley. Wesley hung back for a moment, staring at the men.

Fred was about to grab him when she heard the faun chanting softly. A few seconds later, he finished and joined the others. “Forgetting spell?” Angel asked the man.

Wesley shook his head. “No, more of a mild confusion. Just enough to convince them we weren’t real.”

“Probably for the best,” Fred commented. “We shouldn’t be exposing ourselves like that.”

“They deserved it,” Xander said darkly. “And worse.”

“Yeah,” Gunn muttered. “I’d…”

“Fred’s right,” Cordelia murmured. “But as long as they don’t really believe we were there, it’s ok.”

The drive back was less easygoing than anyone would’ve liked. The good cheer that had permeated their evening was gone, courtesy of the six of the area’s finest idiots.

“We didn’t stop for a movie,” Xander remarked as they filed into the house half an hour later.

“Scrabble,” Oz reassured the Raphe. “English only.”

“I’m game,” Cordelia said. “Anybody want anything to drink?”

“Beer,” Gunn replied.

“The same,” Xander said.

“Me too,” Fred added.

“Yup,” Oz murmured.

“We’ll get our own blood,” Wil told the seer. He and Angel were worked up enough from earlier to warrant a supplement to their usual feeding.

“Team or individual?” Xander asked as he set up a Scrabble board. If they didn’t play in teams, they’d need two sets of the game.

“Team,” Wesley suggested. “But random this time, please.” The ex-Watcher was very good at the game, but no one could beat Angel and Wil paired together. Between Angel’s centuries of reading and Wil’s poetic tendencies, they knew practically every obscure word in English, as well as many other languages.

“I’ll get some paper,” Fred offered. She made up slips of paper so that they could draw their partners.

By the time Cordelia, Angel and Wil returned with drinks and chips, the game was ready to go. “You guys need to draw numbers,” Xander said, thrusting a dish of paper slips at them.

“Who’s got one?” Wil asked, holding up his paper.

“Me,” Cordelia replied.

“Two?” Xander asked.

“That would me,” Wesley replied.

“Three?” Angel asked.

“Yup,” Oz murmured.

“Which leaves me and Gunn together,” Fred finished. “Is slang ok?”

“Only if archaic words are also acceptable,” Wil countered.

“And abbreviations,” Cordelia insisted.

“Middle English?” Angel asked.

“Acronyms?” Xander inquired.

“At this rate, we’ll be able to put down practically everything!” Wesley exclaimed. “Why don’t we attempt to play by the rules?”

“You’re no fun,” Xander whined. “Rules, schools.”

“How very mature,” Wesley snapped. “Perhaps we should try playing in Thlakonian. There is no slang in that language.”

“That takes another set of tiles,” Fred commented, reaching into the box. Wil had gotten bored one day and made Scrabble tiles in several demonic alphabets.

“I’m no good at Thlakonian,” Xander said.

“However, I am, and I happen to be your partner,” Wesley reminded him. “We’re actually well paired for Thlakonian.”

“Why not?” Gunn muttered. “I’m getting better at it.” Since no one had any other objections, play began without further interruption.

“’Yuubuughqj’ has a silent ‘qj’,” Wesley reminded Cordelia. Wil placed another tile at the end of the word.

“Thanks,” Cordelia replied sweetly. “That tripled the score on that one!” Xander groaned.

“Could you not correct her, Wes? She and Blondie are kicking our collective rumps!”

Wesley smirked and pointed at their tiles. Xander frowned and waved at them. The faun shrugged and began to set them down, building on the letter Cordelia had placed. “I believe we are now finished,” He said after he’d completed their word. Sure enough, he’d used every tile they had, managing to span the entire edge of one side.

Xander’s eyes widened. “Uh… Wes? How’d you do that?” Wes just grinned and began calculating points. “And what does it mean, anyway?” The Raphe inquired, trying to puzzle out the word.

“It’s the Thlakonian equivalent of horse’s ass,” Wil said, smiling slightly. “As in, ‘that man is a real horse’s ass.’”

“I thought it an appropriate way to end the game,” Wesley said smugly.

“Especially since you built it off of ‘unwashed body,’” Gunn added.

“And it does intersect ‘eater of spoiled meat,’” Fred remarked. “And ‘person who has intercourse with… -“

“With tuberous vegetables,” Wil supplied helpfully.

“I love Thlakonian,” Xander sighed. “It’s so descriptive.”

“Why do you think I picked it?” Wesley asked. “So many interesting insults in such concise words.”

“Very cathartic,” Oz said.

“Delightfully so,” Wesley agreed. “However, Cordelia and I have to work tomorrow. Perhaps we should adjourn to other pursuits for the evening.”

“Like sex?” Xander asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Gay sex,” Fred said. “Well, some of us.”

“Interracial sex,” Oz stated.

“Interspecies sex,” Gunn continued.

“I do believe that covers all of us,” Angel said. “Is there anything we haven’t done to offend?”

“Group sex,” Wil murmured.

“Does Indianapolis count?” Xander asked innocently.

“Yes,” Angel said quickly. “It does.”

“And since you two have necrophilia down pat…” Cordelia murmured. “What about exhibitionism?”

“Working on it,” Wil said quietly, so that only Angel could hear. The dark vampire just stared, knowing he should be very scared.