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4th Floor common room

Angelus was sprawled out comfortably across one of the couches in the fourth floor common room. In his hands was the brand new Blackberry that he'd ~~stolen~~ bought while on his vacation with Darla.

It was possible that he was text messaging friends. It was also possible that he was downloading porn. ~~Those of you placing bets on www.naughtynuns.edu would probably win a lot of money.~~

[ooc: Thread with Angela is locked but okay for broadcast. Anyone who would like to chat with him can feel free to say they were there either before or after Angela showed up. =) ]

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Angels returns from the Perk to get ready for dinner at Geoff's. Wrapped up in her own thoughts, she ends up on the fourth floor instead of the third.

But, she thinks when she sees who's in the common room, it seems to be one of those mistakes that's not really a mistake.

She takes a deep breath to steel herself and enters the common room. "Angelus," she says.

She can't bring herself to say hello.

"If it isn't my most favorite person in the whole, wide world," Angelus replied, without looking up at her.

"Mutual," Angela says. "As you know."

She props herself in a chair across from Angelus, but further away than he could grab. "So ... I would normally never talk to you, but I have a message to deliver."

That got an eyebrow to raise. It also got him to turn his head in her direction. His expression was somewhere between curious and bemused. "Oh really?"

You're safe here, Angela thinks, hand busy, as always when she talked to him, with the cross Phale had blessed.

She feigns more confidence than she feels. "I talked to the green guy at Caritas a few nights back. He tells the future. Told my future. And, um, you -- you were in it." She takes another deep breath.

"I have no idea what you have planned, Angelus, but -- stay away from my friends. Please."

"Angela," he shook his head at her. "I've grown so bored with you that I can't find words to even express it. It isn't possible for you and yours to be safer than they are from me."

"Really," Angela says. "Because that's not what Lorne saw."

She leans back. "I mean, I don't know for sure Lorne is right. Just like I don't know for sure that you had anything in this world to do with Kitty. I really, really hope you didn't, because I have to look at you almost every single day."

"Either way ... I'm glad to hear you'll stay away from us. Really."

"Word on the street is that if anybody's wearing a 'My Name Is: Guilty' sticker, it's your boyfriend," Angelus pointed out. "And far as I can tell, you do more than look at him."

"Not your business, Angelus. Really," Angela says. "Though, for your information? Marty has been questioned, and he recovered his memory. As far as anyone can tell, it wasn't him."

"But I have exactly no interest in playing detective. So."

"Convienent how he claims to recover his memory when it suits his purpose," Angelus pointed out. "As I recall, he tends to be bad about that when forgetting also suits his purpose too."

She rises to her feet, voice becoming agitated. "I'm not going to lie and pretend he doesn't attract trouble. He does. But that makes him unlucky or a little foolish, not guilty. The bottom line is, if anyone had any reason to think he had done it, he'd be back in jail."

"Anyhow, this is so not about Marty, or Kitty, or even all the horrible things you did back in your world. It's about the future, remember? Where you, um, are not going to hurt me or anyone I care about. Of course."

"Of course," Angelus replied, locking eyes with her. "Because I'm a good little boy who would never hurt a living soul. Or, I'm sorry, was the rest of your sentence a threat of some kind? I'd better not hurt your friends or else you'll get all emo and then spread more lies about me?"

"I asked you what exactly I had said that was such a lie last time we talked. You couldn't answer."

She sighs. "But, you know, it doesn't even matter anymore. I'm pretty over you, too."

"And I'm nowhere near stupid enough to threaten you. I like my head attached to my body and all that. But just in case you get any ideas ... let's say I'm protected."

"Ever so glad you've got something helping you with that not so fresh feeling," Angelus replied.

"Charming," Angela says. "You and Mr. Crowley should get together and write a joke book, or something." She visibly shakes off the insult.

"But speaking of Mr. Crowley -- would you like to see something I got from his --" She debates what word to use. "Boyfriend" is clearly wrong, "life partner" no better.

She decides to just go with Cerowley's term. "--his angel?"

"Off the top of my head and going entirely with the current context," Angelus said, "my guess is: condom?"

"It's a prophylactic, anyhow," Angela agrees. She leans toward Angelus, forcing herself to come closer. If he isn't distracted by trying to see down her shirt -- not that there's much to see there -- he would notice a small golden cross just below her clavicle. "Do you like my necklace?"

Angelus rolled his eyes. "Not gay, Ang. Not that gay, certainly."

"I think I have a friend back home who would disagree," Angela responds. "But if you want to stay in the closet ... you know, there are support groups. Not that I care who you sleep with."

She touches the clasp of her necklace, deciding not to risk taking it off. "One question: Do you know what Aziraphale is? Or have you managed not to notice that?"

"Noticing and managing to give a flying fuck are two vastly different issues," Angelus pointed out.

Angela tilts her head to the side, clearly thinking. "You have a point," she admits. "Like, I notice that you think of me as being on the level of, like, a mosquito or cockroach. I just don't care."

"But you're wrong not to care about Mr. Phale. He's ... special."

She unfastens her necklace and wraps the chain around her fingers, making it very hard to snatch away. Then she holds her hand out to Angelus, cross in the center of her palm. "So I know you don't like these. And I'm thinking you really won't like this one."

Angelus snarled as he leapt away from the cross, putting the couch in between him and Angela.

Surprise and anger warred over his face as he took in how tiny the ornament was for the whallop it was packing. "The hell is that?"

Calm -- and both surprised and pleased by his reaction -- Angela untwines the chain from her hand and refastens the necklace.

"That's what happens when an actual angel blesses one of these," she says. "I'm happy to see it worked."

"And I've told everyone I care about to do the same thing," she bluffs. "Just to make sure you'll stay a nice boy who would never do anybody any harm. All right?"

It was clear Angelus was still rattled by the cross, but he was on the way towards regaining his composure. He looked up towards the ceiling.

"Gosh, Angela," he said, innocently, "that sounds an awful lot like a completely unprovoked threat from you to me."

Jonathan doesn't have a good reason to be in the fourth floor common room. None at all ~~besides contrivance~~, but he's there and when he sees Angelus sitting there, he has to join him. It's such an awesome night, and Angelus is all alone and he doesn't look very happy, maybe Jonathan can cheer him up.

"Hey Angelus," Jonathan says cheerfully, sitting on the arm of the couch Angelus was on. He sets his feet down on the couch, careful not to step on Angelus', "what are you up to?"

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4th Floor common room

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