Cordelia and Wesley look concerned and start offering water, tissues, and tea. I hate when people do that. "It's ok, it's just so fresh...just give me a minute."

"Oh, right," Cordy says, "Like when I have a visi..tor. I hate house guests. Place never feels right till they're gone."

"No, Cordelia," Wesley says. "Sod the lies. We aren't just a detective agency, Detective Howard, we handle paranormal events. Do you have any suspicions in that direction?"
Maybe that's what had my gut hammering away this whole time. But the whole thing was so ridiculous. "Not exactly suspicions, but a definite feeling. You guys would call it a vibe, here. Cause this wasn't a straight-up abduction. Munch is a detective...he knows strange men in vans don't drive around with acting contracts, and he doesn't take candy from strangers...an occasional Toklas brownie, maybe...with the pot? But that's none of my business."
Blank looks all around. I feel old and disgusting, like, immediately, and change tactics. "And he reads these magazines about hellmouths, black helicopters, like that. Could be crap, could be connected, huh? So, you're Angel Investigations cause you take all the woo-woo cases, huh? I'll tell you...when a ghost helped me before, I came to dread the Casper theme song, I'll tell ya."
" Those 'woo-woo' cases are a perfectly legitimate form of inquiry." Wesley says, like I'm wearing the Union Jack as a bra.

"Angel is our founder's name," Cordy says. Short, exactly what I asked, no embroidery. Either she's sick, or the founder's still a painful topic.Everybody's got a sad story, huh? But I've got my own problems.

"Wesley,are you trying to convince me or you? Cause either way, if we don't find him and I find out this is a scam, I'll come back and break your legs. I can do it, too. You being taller just makes it take longer, huh?"

"Don't threaten me. I won't stand for it."

"Not a threat. Just a statement of fact. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend. Ok, now we're clear, I left a list of Munch's associates here. See what you can turn up on Mission Control over there."
"I get the worst of both worlds. Head-rattling visions, and carpal-tunnel from that stupid thing. " Cordy griped.
--more--

"Those 'woo-woo' cases are a perfectly legitimate form of inquiry." Wesley says, like I'm wearing the Union Jack as a bra. "Angel is our founder's name."

"Are you trying to convince me or you? Cause either way, if we don't find him and I find out this is a scam, I'll come back and break your legs. I can do it, too. You being taller just makes it take longer, huh?"

Hmmm - this one bit reads oddly, in a non sequitor way. It's the "Are you trying to convince me or you?" line - the way Wesley's speech is laid out there, it reads as though Kay's asking him whether he's trying to convince her or himself that Angel is their founder's name.

"So, did you get shot last month?" I asked her.
"No," she said.
"I win."
"Wesley did, last year."
"Oh, God," I said. "And I came on with my whole thug routine...I'm sorry. I'm just tense...and I've been up since four, my time. I think I'll go back to the room and freshen up for an hour or something. "
"It was nothing," Wes said. "Some zombie police officers."
"How'd you meet my training sergeant, huh?"
I could listen to him talk all day. And I think I caught him looking at me a time or two...what was that about? OK, I thought, it's not enough I think about Munch all the time...I start thinking like him, too, making a whole fable out of an innocent look.
"I'll be back in an hour,"I say "And I'm like Santa Claus. I made my list and checked it twice. And I know who's naughty(I give Wes a look and he turns his face away.He is easier to tease than Timmy and I would've guessed that wasn't physically possible. ) and nice."
"Excuse me," Cordy says "Who (or what...gotta love this job, with its 'or whats' is a Meldrick?"
"A small garden demon, " Wesley says, I think he's relieved to find a fact. "Very endangered. I think they live in Yorkshire now."
I laughed. "Not this one. But sometimes, the demon thing fits perfect."

"Excuse me," Cordy says "Who (or what...gotta love this job, with its 'or whats' is a Meldrick?"

"A small garden demon, " Wesley says, I think he's relieved to find a fact. "Very endangered. I think they live in Yorkshire now."

BWAHAHAHA! Oh, man. That made me happy as all hell.

It was nothing," Wes said. "Some zombie police officers."

"How'd you meet my training sergeant, huh?"

Bwah!

Thanks. And I think I fixed that weird part, Deb, by having Cordy talk about Angel.

Self-deprecation isn't becoming modesty, it's an anti-feminist tool by which the Evil Screwheads in power try and keep us disliking ourselves. Personally, I think self-love is the best, and a healthy shot of actual arrogance works wonders when earned.

I. Love. Deb.

Wrod. She is obviously the sanest in our ficcers' plural marriage.

what's the specific fluffy situation? I mean, is he asking her to the prom, or something?

Something like that. Babysitting, actually, with a specific request for fluff/schmoop in tone. I guess I *could* age them, though I've seen so few fics that age Dawn well that I'm a bit hesitant to try -- especially since the cute kid thing is already a stretch for me.

But I finally have a teeny, embryonic plot bunny that *may* work if I coddle it.

LJ, you could have Dawn apply for University of Santa Cruz. Have her going in for the tour, given by a second year student. Have him saddled with the Placement Director's kid for the day as he tries to get shit done.

My take, anyway.