I shouldn't do that. I mean, thinking about what I really look like...apart from the whole "As is" thing.(But it is what Munch would think, but as blonde me I get the wig...even if my pedigree is more "Hitler's nightmare" than "Lebensborn")

“ What if he decides to start a revolution, Lilah?”

I love this line. So funny, and I can see and hear Lindsey saying it.

Thanks, and it's something he would do...or want to do. One of the great disappointments of Munch's life was having a short FBI file. I know somebody that happened to, I think. He was married to the female Munch I grew up with...sweet, smart guy, kind of a "Rebel without A Clue" though.(They were my parents' friends...I think I wasn't supposed to know about that.)

I managed to commit "Smile Time" fic. Includes a great big shout-out to Connie.

"New Life, New Problems"

When it finally happened, it happened quietly, with no fanfare, no booming voices, no flash of mystical light. He, Wesley, Spike, and Lorne were just sitting around his office on a Wednesday afternoon, talking about the demon cult they had defeated just a few hours before.

"It's fortunate we found them when we did," Wesley said. "It turns out that if they had completed that spell, the results would have made last year's blackouts and fire storms seem like a summer squall."

"Another day, another apocalypse," Spike said. He lit a cigarette. "You're sure you stopped the spell, Watcher? It still looked pretty glowy to me when we legged it out of there."

"The foundation spell they used--a variant on a classic Etruscan summoning spell--remains potent for several hours. There's no way to undo the spell, but there's no danger since there's now approximately 50 tons of rubble preventing any spell caster to get close enough to it to finish the ritual. Besides, the foundation spell should dissipate on its own in an hour or two, if it hasn't already."

It was exactly ten minutes later that the spell faded away, the potential for apocalypse fading away right along with it.

As it turned out, the apocalypse wasn't the only thing that faded away with the spell.

The first thing Angel noticed was that he felt truly calm for the first time in centuries. The roiling, crashing restlessness and turbulent desire that he kept fiercely in check every waking moment subsided first to a ripple and then to the utter stillness of a pond on a windless day.

"Angel, are you all right?" Wes asked. He leaned forward in his chair, peering suspiciously at his friend. "You look rather...flushed?"

The second thing Angel noticed was that he felt a little bit warm. He wondered if the heat had come on for some reason, but this warmth was coming from the inside out.

He held out his hands and examined them. Was it his imagination, or was his skin a little pinker than before?

"Something's happening, Wes. I think I can feel...ow!"

Somewhere in the past two hundred and some-odd years, he had forgotten the whole pinprick sensation of blood rushing back into his extremeties after they'd been asleep.

Angel stood up, and just before the demon's physical strength faded away, hurled his chair through the necro-tempered glass.

Spike dove out of the way of the unfiltered sunlight. He glared at Angel as he beat frantically at a smoking spot on his leg. "What the hell was that for, you wanker!"

"Shanshu," Angel said. He walked towards the light, nearly breaking into giggles as he realized that he was actually holding his breath. He reached out to stick his hand in the sunbeam, drew back out of habit, then deliberately held his hand in direct sunlight.

Nothing happened.

"Oh my God..." Wesley said. He stood up and walked hesitantly towards Angel, eyes fixed on the not-burning hand.

"Way to go, Angel!" Lorne crowed. "Oh, this calls for some kind of party! Don't worry, though. I'll be sure not to invite Arch-Duke Sebassis."

Then, Lorne was up from his seat, Wesley broke out of his state of shock, and the next thing Angel knew, he was getting fiercely hugged by both men. One of them even ruffled his hair.

Meanwhile, Angel just stood there, stunned, wondering when it would finally sink in that this had actually happened, that it was real.

Spike didn't say a single word. He just stared at Angel for a few minutes, completely expressionless. Eventually, he turned and stalked off who-knows-where and who-cares-where, at least as far as Angel was concerned. Maybe Spike would do everyone a favor and go drown his sorrows in a pool of sunshine.

No, this was no time to be petty. Angel closed his eyes and enjoyed the simple sensation of having a heartbeat. In fact, maybe he should try to help Spike out a little bit. Being a vampire with a soul was no easy task.

A task he no longer had to worry about.

"You know, Angel-cakes, if you don't stop smiling, your face could freeze like that."

"Fine by me," Angel said. "That would be just fine by me..."

He turned his hands this way and that in the late-afternoon sunlight, marveling at how golden it made his skin, and how warm it felt. How much better would it feel on bare legs, bare arms, a bare chest?

He couldn't wait to find out.

His sunlight was momentarily blocked by Lorne, who was mere inches from him, circling around, and peering at him critically from every angle.

"It is amazing what a little blood circulation does for your complexion, honey-bun. You're still pale, of course, but you don't have that whole pasty thing going on any more."

"Pasty? I was pasty? Why didn't anyone ever tell me I was pasty?" Angel looked around, but of course there weren't any mirrors in his office. That was just one of the things he would have to change.

Lorne waved away the comment. "Bygones, Angel. Fact is, you need to get out and get a little bit of a base tan. It will do wonders for your appearance. In fact," he said, giving Angel another lingering once-over, "I think we're looking at a top contender for the next People '50 Sexiest People' issue. Remind me to get my people right on that."

"Oh, we'll definitely have to get you out on the town," said Wes.

"Absolutely." Lorne peered at him some more, and Angel knew from the heat in his face, that he was blushing fiercely. "Plus, we need to hit the stores. The whole dark-and-gloomy thing simply won't work for you any more."

Harmony came in with a tray of coffee--a tray with six full mugs and not a drop of blood anywhere to be seen.

(con't)

"Spike told me all about the good news! And he wanted me to tell you that he's taking out the new Lamborghini for a road-trip to Vegas and that he doesn't know when or if he'll be back. He also said you said it was okay to give him fifty-thou out of petty cash, which is so incredibly nice of you! It was okay for me to do that, right?" She put the tray down on the desk. "Oh, and by the way, Lorne is totally right about the fashion thing, Boss. I mean, now that you're not the walking dead any more, you're..." she squinted a bit, then leaned back to study him, tapping her chin with one finger. "A spring. Yeah, definitely a spring."

Lorne took a mug of his usual complicated coffee. "Good eye, kid! Angel, if you don't mind, let's do the shopping trip tomorrow evening." He gave Harmony a one-armed hug. "I bet that this little cutie knows her way around a clothing store like nobody's business."

"You mean I get to go shopping with you and Angel?"

"You betcha, sugar-plum. If you want, I'll see if I can talk my boy Carson into flying in from New York to give us a hand. He owes me a favor or two--and dinner, but that's another story."

Harmony squealed with delight, and she and Lorne started babbling about all the stores they would have to visit.

"Get ready to find out how sore your feet will become," Wes said, shaking his head. Even so, he was smiling. "I'm not sure I could stand going shopping with those two, but it will be quite the new adventure for you."

Wes took his usual mug from the tray, leaving behind four unremarkable W&H mugs in an assortment of colors.

Angel finally interrupted the chorus of shopping-raptures. "Uh, Harmony? Who else is having coffee with us?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. Since you normally drink blood--well, up until now, anyway--I didn't know how you liked your coffee, so there's black in the blue mug, sugar only in the red mug, cream only in the green mug, cream and sugar in the white..." She looked up at him, wide-eyed. Her lip quivered. "Oh, no! I didn't even think about artificial sweetener, or all the different flavored syrups..."

Angel took the mug that had cream and sugar. The heat made him flinch, so he set it back down and picked it by the handle. A lower pain threshold was something he'd have to get used to. "Harm, it's fine. You did good."

"Really? In that case, is it okay if I take all the leftover otter blood home with me? I mean, it's not like--"

"Drink it in good health," Angel said. "Now I think there's a stack of invoices in your in-box that need to be filed..."

"In the meantime," said Wes, "why don't we go out for a little walk. It is, after all, a nice spring afternoon."

Angel looked out the window. A walk. Outside. In daylight.

He wondered if he'd ever stop grinning. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

As they walked out into the lobby, Harmony stopped them to tell Angel that while they had been out preventing the apocalypse, Nina had arrived for her monthly "kennel appointment" and wanted to know if she and Angel were still on for breakfast tomorrow.

"Hell, yeah! Don't tell her about..." he thumped on his chest, "you- know-what. I want it to be a surprise."

"Things are going will with Nina, I take it?" If Wesley's smile was a little wistful, Angel wasn't going to let it ruin his day.

Angel nodded, but also tipped one hand from side to side. "It's going okay. She's fun, she's nice, she's pretty... She's more-or-less okay with the vampire thing--which is now a complete non-issue." He could barely keep from laughing.

Maybe later he'd be overwhelmed by the magnitude of what had happened, but right now he could enjoy gloating and giddiness. Time enough to deal with reality tomorrow.

"How close are we to moonrise, anyway? You think I have time to go down and see her tonight before she changes?"

Wesley checked his watch and pushed a button. "Fourteen minutes and...ten seconds to moonrise," he said. Angel wondered if the moonrise function on the watch was a Wolfram and Hart idea or a Watcher's Council idea. "I would strongly advise against going down there right now. Every werewolf has a slightly different sensitivity to the moon's mystical pull. Some have been known to change nearly a quarter of an hour before moonrise, while others can resist the change for up to an hour or more. There have been some recent rumors in the mystical community about some Tibetan meditation techniques..."

"I'll wait 'til tomorrow," Angel said abruptly. "The last time I made the mistake of visiting her too close to moonrise, she wound up using me as a chew-toy. Not exactly an experience I'd like to repeat."

Wesley stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Angel by the arm. He looked Angel over as if expecting to see horrible injuries. "You mean Nina mauled you? When did this happen? Why didn't you say anything?"

Angel jerked his arm free of Wesley's grip. The intensity in those blue eyes was a little more than Angel wanted to deal with at the moment.

"It was during that whole puppet incident, which, by the way, you are still not allowed to mention ever again. I was standing too close to her cage, and I guess she thought I was a squeaky toy. Anyhow, Lorne found me and got me back to my office, and I was able to fix myself up with some thread and a little poly-fill, so no harm, no foul." He thought for a moment. "I told her not to worry about it, but I get the idea she still feels kinda guilty about it."

"Angel, I think it's essential that you speak to Nina about this, especially since she's a..." There was something odd about Wesley's voice, but Angel couldn't figure out what it was. "Well, she's a very nice girl. In fact, I think you may find that the two of you may have a surprising amount in common."

(con't)

Wesley turned to whisper something to Lorne, who nearly choked on his caramel-soy decaf latte. Angel ignored them and kept walking.

"I wonder what she'll think. The visit before last, I was a puppet. Then, back to a vampire for the next visit. Now...ha!... human!" He looked at his faint reflection in the glass of the Immigration Services office, admiring himself for a moment before waving cheerfully at the family of Minoto demons waiting inside. The two adults looked at him warily, but the little one waved back enthusiastically.

He barely resisted doing a little dance-step as he started walking again.

"Human. God, I love being able to say that! Anyhow, too bad Nina didn't get in until late. Still, I can take her out to breakfast tomorrow, go sit at a nice, sunny outdoor cafe..."

Wes rested a hand between Angel's shoulders and gently steered him towards his office. "Yes, yes. I'm sure the two of you will have an absolutely wonderful time."

"Yup. And, no more gypsy curse, so no need to worry about having too wonderful a time."

"R-right." Wes stared at Angel for a moment, once again giving him the kind of head-to-toe survey that was only one step down from open flirtation. "Angel, can we step into your office for a moment? There's something we need to, um, discuss."

"C'mon, Wes! This is my first day as a human. In fact, it's the end of the day. People have gone home for the night. Can't whatever it is wait until tomorrow?"

Wes didn't answer, since he had gone over to Harmony's desk and was giving her some sort of instructions. Harmony looked both befuddled and startled, but that was pretty normal for Harmony.

"You just go on in, sweet-cheeks," Lorne said. "Wes will only be a minute."

"Whatever." Angel headed for his desk, but the sound of his door locking stopped him cold. He turned to ask Lorne what the hell was going on.

Lorne wasn't there. In fact, from what Angel could hear, he was on the other side of the locked door yelling for people to shove desks and filing cabinets in front of the door.

Sound of a lock. Lorne calling for people to push desks and filing cabinets in front of the door.

"Oh, no you don't," Angel muttered. He ran up and gave the door a flying kick that would knock it off its hinges.

As he hopped around in agony, Angel realized that "blinding pain" was a surprisingly apt description.

"ShitpissfuckdammitalltoHELL!!"

Well, kicking down doors clearly not an option. He eyed the frosted glass panel between his office and the reception area, and was debating whether or not he wanted to risk multiple lacerations when the glass suddenly darkened. From the sound of things, Wes had ordered Harmony to use her vampire strength to stand her huge oak desk on end in front of the window.

Angel grapped the doorknob and shook it furiously.

"Wes! Lorne! Harmony! If you don't let me out of here RIGHT NOW, you are all going to be very, very fired!"

"Sorry, Angel-muffin, but I believe the appropriate phrase in this situation is 'No way, Jose'."

"Lorne..." Angel was pleased to find that even without the demon, he could still growl quite effectively.

His hearing was also better than he'd expected. He could hear Wes's exasperated sigh as clearly as if the man were standing right next to him.

"I do apologize for this, Angel," Wes said, "but it's probably best that you remain isolated until we can do a little more research on how your reversion to human state might have effected your vampiric...ah...immunity to certain, well, things..."

"Things? What kind of things?" Angel snarled. Wes was so lucky that Angel was no longer a vampire, or he'd find himself missing a chunk of his throat. Despite his regained humanity, the idea of sinking his teeth into Wes's neck held a certain, visceral appeal.

Wes's voice grew slightly fainter, as if he was stepping back from the door. "Well, it's entirely possible that if you were, well, exposed to various...conditions...and you could have some viruses and bacteria lingering in your system that could have unpredictable and adverse effects."

"That still doesn't explain why you locked me in my office, Wes."

He grinned in satisfaction as he heard Harmony 'eep!' at the threat in his voice.

"I'll, um, see you tomorrow, Boss!" she squeaked. "Bye!"

"Oh, is that the time?" Lorne said. "My, my, my."

Angel heard the sound of two sets of footsteps fading rapidly into the distance.

"Think of this as being kept overnight for observation," said Wes, from just a little further away than before. He sounded calm, but Angel could tell the man was faking it. "It's nothing more than a precaution. I'm sure everything is just fine, and we'll all have a good long laugh about it in the morning."

"Wes, what do you mean you're sure everything 'is just fine?!' Are you trying to tell me there's a chance that things are not fine?"

No answer.

"Wes?"

He counted to five.

"WES!!!!"

Nothing.

Angel stood for a few minutes, wondering what exactly had just happened. Maybe this was some weird practical joke that Spike and Harmony had thought up, and Wes and Lorne would be back any minute now...

Or not.

"Fuck."

Angel took a deep breath, not even stopping to marvel at the fact that his lungs were now actually using the air that was coming in.

Ever since Angel first heard about the whole Shanshu deal, he often daydreamed about what he might do if he actually did become human again. There were, of course, the obvious fantasies involving Buffy, not a few involving Wes, and one very special one involving them both.

(last part...)

Up in his penthouse suite, tucked away in his nightstand drawer, was his constantly revised list of "Top Ten Places I Want to See in Daylight." In the back of the closed was a box full of recipes for various garlic-intensive Italian and Asian dishes he wanted to try. The list of baby names, however, had been torn up and flushed down the toilet a little over a year ago.

He was reasonably certain that there wasn't anything in any of his fantasies or on any of his lists about being locked up--all alone--in his office overnight. It wasn't right. This was his first night as a human, as a 'real boy,' and it should have been special.

He sighed again, wondering if he was ungrateful to be thinking about the unfairness of the situation.

Look on the bright side, he told himself. After all these years, he could live as a man, not a monster. He could have a life, and not just a tortured existence in which he tried to maintain a balance between the two states.

He took a breath of the night air that came in through the broken window. Despite the ever-present smog, it still felt fresh, and the sultry spring humidity did something oh-so-pleasant to his spine and his stomach. He wanted to go out and enjoy the night as a human, to run and chase, and...

No, he wasn't going to start being bitter again.

In the morning, he could go out not in moonlight, but in honest-to-goodness daylight. Maybe he could go up on the roof and start working on that tan Lorne had suggested. He held up his hands to see--for one last time--the vampire paleness illuminated by moonlight.

Huh. He frowned at his hands. Somehow, his skin looked a little darker than he remembered. Darker, and...hairier?

All at once, he knew why Wes and Lorne had been in such a hurry to get away. He looked up in horror as the first full moon of spring rose above the LA skyline.

"ohshit..."

Angel's--literal--howl of frustration could be heard all the way down in the basement, where wolf-Nina dreamed sweet, sultry spring dreams about her destined mate.

THE END

I like that. Cute.

Anne made my afternoon! funny and touching

Hi, Baynar! The little guy loves everybody.

Poor Angel.