Just Another Day in the Office
NOTES: An entry in the AU August challenge, and this was only a matter of time, as I think, after Big Brother, Angel may well be the slashiest damn show ever. I'm only just beginning to understand the mechanics of the Lindsey/Angel/Wesley/Gunn relationships.
THANKS: to Sel, for the speedy beta *hugs* And Mez, who I bounce stupid, possibly amusing lines off of.
SCENE ONE: ANGEL INVESTIGATIONS.
(Angel is trying on clothes. They all look the same: black. Without a mirror to admire himself in, Angel looks down at himself and sighs, rips off the black shirt, and replaces it with another, indistinguishable black shirt. Wesley is sitting down, legs crossed, staring at Angel. Doyle is sitting on the floor. Drinking.)
ANGEL: (messing with his clothes) Do I look fat?
WESLEY: (cooing) Of course not! You're very slim and athletic!
ANGEL: You're not just saying that?
WESLEY: (gives Angel a big hug) You know I wouldn't lie!
DOYLE: (from the floor, playing video games and stuffing crisps into his big Irish mouth) You're a fat bastard, Angel, now shut up.
(Angel is visibly hurt. So Wesley gives him another cuddle. Doyle continues from the floor, oblivious)
DOYLE: Maybe ifin' ya didn't eat so many of them donuts. I mean, you don't *have* to eat them. You're just eating them 'cos they're there.
ANGEL: (whining) But they're so sweet and sugary!
WESLEY: I think maybe Francis has a point.
(Doyle stands up, glaring at Wesley)
DOYLE: WHAT?
WESLEY: I said you had a point.
DOYLE: No, you didn't.
WESLEY: Yes, I did.
DOYLE: Not that. That other part. About *who* exactly was having the point.
WESLEY: I said that you did.
DOYLE: No.
WESLEY: I did! I said, maybe Fra. ah. Oh.
DOYLE: Indeed. (he pulls Wesley aside and whispers) I told you my name in a strict confidence that you would never tell anybody, and it would never be uttered, except for certain intimate moments. And especially not in public.
WESLEY: (hang dog expression) I'm sorry.
DOYLE: (still a bit pissed) You'll be sorrier! 'Cos you won't be saying any me-related names at all for a while!
(Wesley looks very upset. He starts pouting. Doyle rolls his eyes, then pulls Wesley around the corner. Angel tries to see what's happening, without *looking* like he's trying to see what's happening, and as a consequence, doesn't see anything at all. Doyle takes Wesley for the big pash, and poor old Wes can barely contain his excitement, and tries to dry-hump Doyle on the spot.)
DOYLE: No more Francis, OK?
WESLEY: Oh, completely.
DOYLE: And no more of this around the big fat bastard.
ANGEL: (his voice floating from around the corner) I'm not fat!!!
DOYLE: (yelling back) Is there a doughnut in your mouth?
ANGEL: (through a very obviously full mouth)...No.
(Doyle and Wesley return to main living area)
ANGEL: Are we ready to go?
DOYLE: No.
ANGEL: (huffing) What?
DOYLE: I need to take a leak.
(Doyle heads bathroom-wards)
ANGEL: (under his breath) If he wasn't my direct link to the Powers That Be, I'd drain him dry, I swear.
WESLEY: Well, I'd miss him.
ANGEL: (looking shocked) What?
WESLEY: I like having Doyle around. He's rather handy.
ANGEL: Oh. (shyly) But not as much as you like me, though?
WESLEY: Well, that goes without saying.
(And Angel gives Wesley a big cuddle, and a romantic little kiss. Wesley blushes, because he's as much a big girl as Angel is flabby. They manage to break apart before Doyle returns, adjusting himself)
DOYLE: I'm ready. Can we go now?
ANGEL: I guess so. Wesley, can you bring the car around?
WESLEY: (simpering) You're trusting me with the Angel-Mobile?
ANGEL: Who else? (winning smile)
(Wesley heads out of the door, a little spring in his step)
DOYLE: What was that all about?
ANGEL: What?
DOYLE: This, you trusting Wesley with the Angel Mobile?
ANGEL: (shrugging) He's my employee. Of course I trust him with my car!
DOYLE: That's all right then. I thought I was going to have to hurt you both!
(Doyle leaps on Angel, knocking him to the floor and groping him in all sorts of places he shouldn't have touched if he wants to hang onto that soul of his. Wesley beeps the car horn outside, and Doyle and Angel reluctantly stand up and straighten themselves.)
ANGEL: (whining again) You crumpled me!
(Doyle grabs Angel by the arm and hauls him outside)
DOYLE: Stop whining, you fat bastard!
SCENE TWO: THE HOST'S BAR.
(Our intrepid trio enter the bar. Up on stage, a large purple demon is crooning "I Will Always Love You". The Host notices them and walks over)
THE HOST: (gesturing to the purple demon) I'm seriously thinking of putting a ban on that song. Now, how are my pretty little ones?
(Doyle gives the Host what can only be described as a 'look' and walks over to the bar, where he drinks much, and quickly.)
THE HOST: He's never been much for chit chat, has he? What's my Angel-Cakes been up to?
ANGEL: (whispering) Can I talk to you alone?
THE HOST: (flattered) Why, Angel, I never knew.
ANGEL: (rolls eyes) It's not that!
THE HOST: Damn. (sighs) Alright then, what?
(Angel and the Host shoo Wesley away, and he joins Doyle at the bar. He tries to play cutesy games with Doyle, until Doyle punches him and he falls off the bar stool. Doyle helps him up)
WESLEY: That hurt! If you think I'm going to take this...
DOYLE: (indignant) You said you liked a bit of rough!
(Meanwhile, back at the oblivious Angel.)
ANGEL: I'm having a bit of a worry.
THE HOST: Gee, you're angsting. What a surprise, because you never do that on a daily basis.
ANGEL: I have a real problem.
THE HOST: (ultra sarcastic) No!!
ANGEL: Are you gonna help me or not?
THE HOST: (dramatic sigh) I suppose so. Come on, what is it?
(Angel looks over to where Doyle and Wesley are arguing. Doyle yells something, and Wesley throws his drink on Doyle's head. Doyle morphs into his demon form and yells some more. As soon as Angel looks back at the Host, and as soon as Wesley and Doyle are out of his sight, they passionately kiss)
ANGEL: (whispered) I think Wesley or Doyle might be cheating on me.
(The Host stares at Angel, wordlessly)
ANGEL: Do you think maybe you could get them to sing and I can find out which one?
(The Host continues to stare at Angel)
ANGEL: What? (he looks at himself) Do I have doughnut on my coat?
THE HOST: (shaking his head) Do you mean to tell me you're seeing both Wesley *and* Doyle?
ANGEL: (wondering what's wrong with that) Yes?
THE HOST: And I'm presuming that Wesley doesn't know about Doyle and that Doyle doesn't know about Wesley, am I running on track with that summation?
ANGEL: Yes?
THE HOST: And you want me to tell you which one of them is cheating on you?
ANGEL: Yes.
THE HOST: And you don't see anything wrong with this at all?
ANGEL: No...should I?
THE HOST: Nothing, maybe, I don't know, hypocritical?
(Angel shakes his head in blank incomprehension. The Host sighs.)
THE HOST: A million vampires and this is the one that gets the soul? (big sigh) Alright. But you know, you'll have to sing too.
ANGEL: (gulps) I will?
THE HOST: And not "Mandy" this time, either. Something new.
(Several hours and several drinks later. Angel has finally encouraged Wesley to sing. Doyle and Angel stare open mouthed at the boogieing Wesley Windbag-Ponce belting out the least appropriate song he could have chosen)
WESLEY: (singing) Macho, macho man! I'm gonna be a macho man!
DOYLE: Oh my god.
ANGEL: Is he trying to torture us?
DOYLE: Yes. If the Powers That Be knew about this, shouldn't they have given me a vision to warn me away?
ANGEL: We all have something to atone for.
(Wesley hits a high note, and they flinch)
ANGEL: Yep. Definitely torture.
(Wesley gets off stage and Doyle decides it's his turn. He elbows Wesley out of the way and smiles drunkenly at the audience)
DOYLE: This is an old favourite of mine back in the old country, and I hope it's one of yours too. If not...fuck off.
(Doyle launches into a surprisingly decent version of "Danny Boy".)
WESLEY: He's not too bad, actually.
ANGEL: Who knew?
(Getting towards the end of the song now, and Doyle, like a typical drunk Irishman, can barely be understood through his tears. The melodic singing has given way to loud, snotty sobs. The song finishes and Doyle runs to the bar, to drown his patriotic sorrows in more Guinness. Any attempts at comfort from Wesley and Angel are met by 'fuck off!' and more sobbing. The Host crooks a finger at Angel, and he walks up to the stage)
THE HOST: Cover your ears, Angel's returned!
(The clientele groan)
THE HOST: So what are you singing tonight, my soulful one?
(Angel looks about worriedly and whispers in the Host's ear. He laughs and then gives Angel the microphone. Angel's singing has not improved in the slightest as he screeches his way through "I've Been to Paradise, But I've Never Been to Me". Doyle and Wesley are horrified, especially by Angel's 'dancing', which mainly consists of stepping from one foot to the other)
DOYLE: And I thought you were shit, you've got nothin' on him.
WESLEY: Thanks...I think.
DOYLE: Not a problem.
(Angel finishes his terrible, terrible onslaught and the Host calls him over)
ANGEL: So, what can you tell me?
THE HOST: I'm not sure whether you should hear this.
ANGEL: Come on, tell me. I sang the song, didn't I?
THE HOST: Yeah, you sang the song. And frightened me in the process. I've been to Paradise, but I've never been to me? Honey, what are you thinking?
(Flick back over to Wesley and Doyle, who are watching Angel and the Host)
DOYLE: What do you think he needed?
WESLEY: Must have been for a case or something.
DOYLE: Nah. He would have told us. Something about Buffy, maybe?
DOYLE and WESLEY: (under their breath) Bitch.
(Suddenly, an angry Angel gets up and stomps over to Wesley and Doyle. The Host is desperately trying to calm him down)
ANGEL: All right. How long has this been going on?
DOYLE: What thing?
ANGEL: This thing between you two. How long?
DOYLE: (looks at Wesley out of the corner of his eye and starts laughing) Me? And him? Are you kidding?
WESLEY: (laughing nervously himself) Me and Doyle? What a preposterous concept!
DOYLE: Yeah, don't be ridiculous. (he slaps Angel's arm) Besides, you know you're the one for me!
(There is a deathly, deathly silence, filled with silent death. No one says anything for a very long time)
THE HOST: Oh, dear.
(Wesley takes off his glasses and begins to clean them)
WESLEY: (barely controlled fury) Angel? Is there something you'd like to tell us?
ANGEL: Um...I love you?
(Wesley and Doyle both scoff)
ANGEL: Both of you?
DOYLE: Oh, you do not. Otherwise you'd have no soul.
WESLEY: (grumpy) Anything *else*?
ANGEL: Well, I'm hardly the only one at fault here, am I? It's not like you two were the constant faithful either!
DOYLE: That's not the point, and you know it!
ANGEL: Then what is it?
DOYLE: (fixing Angel with a steely glare) Well, if you don't know...then I'm not going to tell you.
(With that, Doyle turns around and orders another drink)
ANGEL: Wha...um...huh.?
WESLEY: I think you've got a lot of explaining to do!
(The Host grabs Doyle and spins him around to face the others)
THE HOST: Boys? I think I've got a way to solve all of this.
(A few hours later. A very happy and cosy trio are walking out of the bar, looking very pleased with the Host's arrangement for mutual pleasure.)
THE HOST: I love doing good for others.
SCENE THREE: ANGEL'S BEDROOM
(It is the next morning. Doyle and Wesley are draped about the bed, but Angel is nowhere to be seen. The two eventually wake up)
WESLEY: Well, that was...liberating.
DOYLE: Not bad, eh?
WESLEY: (blushing) No, not at all.
DOYLE: (looking around) Where's Angel?
WESLEY: (also looking) I don't know.
(At the same time, the notice a mirror, which has been scrawled with 'Angelus Was Here' in what looks like blood, but is most probably lipstick)
WESLEY: Oh no! Angelus has been freed!
DOYLE: You're saying we gave him his moment of perfect happiness?
WESLEY: Yes, and now we're all in very grave danger!
DOYLE: We did that? Damn, I'm good!
(They creep about in the search for Angelus. Eventually they see another note on Cordy's desk, which reads 'Gone to Sunnydale to Kill Somebody, Back Soon, Love A.')
WESLEY: My goodness! I think he's gone to exact his revenge on Buffy!
DOYLE: That's terrible! Should we warn them?
(They stare at each other for a while)
WESLEY and DOYLE: Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
the end
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