"And Another Thing I Hate About You!"

by Ironbear

A Buffy the Vampire Slayer-Angel the Series non-crossover Event.

"Woke up in Vegas"

"Do what you know is right, but try not to get caught." ― Ashleigh Brilliant

Story Blurb: "Tiny men with hard hats and jackhammers were at work in his skull, his mouth was an ashtray, he had a ring on his finger, a warm pleasant weight on his chest and a distinct feeling he'd done... something last night. Or maybe someone..."

Title: "And Another Thing I Hate About You!"

Author: Ironbear

Rating: PG-13. Maybe R in places, if I get inspired. Possibly X. (Plot? What plot? There was a plot here somewheres, once... ) Seriously. There's full frontal nudity. And full backal nudity. Violence. And language. And Adult Situations before fading to black. Bow-chicka-wow-wow figger out the rating. FR-18 to 21(where appropriate) for TtH, just to be safe.

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series and characters thereof belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Warner Brothers, 20th Century Fox, and Kazui Entertainment. Everyone else belongs to their respective owners, except for my own original characters. And hey – I'm not greedy about them.

This is a work of derivative fiction. All persons, characters, names, places, locations, entities, personages, and/or deities contained within are purely fictional, or fictional representations thereof, and any resemblance to any real persons, characters, names, places, locations, entities, personages, and/or deities are purely coincidental, or they are used in a purely fictional manner.

Summary: Following the disastrous breakup with Anya, Xander Harris is in Las Vegas for a contractor's convention. Cordelia and the Fang Gang are aiming to prevent Gunn from having his soul repossessed. When the two happen to – literally – bump into each other, a chance meeting ends up in a night of drinking and wild monkey sex. When morning reveals a hungover Cordy and Xander in bed together – married – all Hellmouth is bound to break loose as both of their destinies are thrown for a loop, along with that of everyone else!

Type: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series non-crossover. A "Woke up in Vegas" challenge fic.

Genre: Comedy/Romance and Action/Adventure. More comedy of errors than comedy.

Actually, there are a few crossovers. Sort of. But they're minor. And one is buried pretty deep. And one is really obscure. So obscure that if anyone can identify it in comments, I'll rush you your Free, Deluxe No-Prize by Fed-Ex Overnight as soon as possible, for only $29.95 plus shipping and handling. Cashier's checks and money orders only, please. ;) Attributions are in the End Notes.

Chronology: Between BtVS "Normal Again" and "Grave", sort of, and AtS "Double or Nothing" and "Benediction"

Events in BtVS and AtS during that time frame occur more or less as in canon, with modifications as needed according to changed situations and players, but not necessarily in exactly the same order and at the same time and date they did in canon. I took some liberties with canon events and canon dialogue when used to make them fit the new situations. It's an AU. Deal with it. And in some cases, I rewrote canon events a bit just because, hey: anyone can just novelize a transcript. What's the fun in that?

Pairings: Xander Harris and Cordelia Chase. Canon pairings for others. Mostly.

Author's Note(s): Naturally, Cordelia and Xander decide not to get an annulment, or can't for some reason. (Else there wouldn't be much point to the story, duh.) Naturally, neither Groo nor Angel are real thrilled with the situation. Naturally, there's little time for the two to catch their respective breaths as they get swept up in the unexpected return of Angel's son. And, naturally, neither a certain Power nor a certain mercenary demon are thrilled with the sudden Xander-shaped curve thrown into their plans. Not to mention Wolfram and Hart...

Beta read by Greywizard, Starwayman, and SamanthaDancer. Any remaining mistakes are purely my own.

Dedicated to:

My faithful and somewhat crazed betas, SamanthaDancer and Richard Caine.

My scribblings would be a lot poorer and crappier without them.

To NWhepcat and Liz Marcs and Rob Sorenson, who're among the very best Xander writers I know of, bar none.

(And, gee, Rob – ya think you might ever finish The Chronicles of Truth someday? Pretty please?)

And Richard Caine, as my co-author in the Nightwatchmen 'verse, who swings a pretty mean stick there himself.

And to Melissa Flores and Francis Eugene and Robert2 and all of the best of the other Xander-Cordelia writers who've kept the old school romances alive in their stories and archives.

Thank you for all the work and all the endless hours of amusement and entertainment I've found reading your stuff.

Preface: That Stuff in the Front

"More books have resulted from somebody's need to write than from anybody's need to read. " ― Ashleigh Brilliant

Ok. Howdy, folks.

Man. Been a long time, hasn't it?

Don't worry. Not gonna bore y'all right now with the long strange saga of why I've been outta the writing and posting biz since, oh, 2009 or so. I'll save crap like that for the Afterword.

I'll just say it's good to be back. And I hoped at least a few of you guys missed me and my crazed scribblings.

I don't really like author's notes scattered all through a story, like, at the top and bottom of each chapter and in-between. Definitely don't care for doing them myself. And I kinda figure most of y'all want to read my damned story, not my idiotarian comments on each chapter.

Shell out for the Director's Cut if you want that stuff. ;)

So, unless there is something critical to the story, or maybe a credit-where-credit-is-due footnote that just has to be on that page, I'm gonna put all of that crap here at the beginning, and at the end in the Afterword. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to wake up in Sunnydale. Eww.

That way, you can just skip it and head straight to why you're here if you wanna: the story.

After all, if'n ya didn't, you'da just hit [back] when you clicked in and saw the author's name, right?

'K. So...

Just a few comments about the actual story you're heading into, for those that might actually give a rats.

This fic came about as a result of me thinking about the "Woke up in Vegas" challenge at TtH, and a sudden "What if... ?" thought went zipping through my mind and an evil smile began to curl at my lips. Yanno... there's just one "Woke up in" pairing I don't think I've ever seen. Snerk.

And off I went. Way off.

Six frenzied weeks and several hundred thousand words later, I looked at my computer and went, "Son of a bitch. I think I just finished book one!"

Groovy.

This is a love story, with action and adventure and maybe just a tiny bit of horror tossed in along the way. And, it's a comedy.

In the Greek sense of the word, in places. Mostly, it's a comedy of errors on the parts of our heroes. And a bit of unintended comedy, at some points, on the part of the idiot author.

Warning:

If you like Saint Cordelia from later seasons of Angel, hit [back] now and escape while you can. I don't.

If you like Cordelia/Angel as a couple, likewise – you're in the wrong story.

If you just love Super!xander saving the Buffy-verse with the power of his swinging cod and his twin 50-cal Desert Eagles, and telling off all the other characters and being Mr. I'm Right and You Deserve It! - run screaming to the back button. Now. This ain't for you. Which ain't knockin' that – I have a deep and abiding guilty secret love for Super!xander stuff, myself. It's the fiction that dare not speak its name. I just have kind of a hard time intentionally writing Xander-Stu and taking myself seriously.

Oh, yeah, there's guns, and gun-play, and swordplay, because hey – I'm not from SoCal, and I like guns and think they're perfectly fine tools for some things. And there's the odd bit of Xander's hyena side or his soldier side coming out at times, but that's really not the point.

That's a part of the damage.

If you like Buffy-Sue or Willow-Sue or whatever, you may not find 'em here. I hope. Not if I did my job right, anyway. And you won't find much Redemptionista Spike love, neither.

Much as I really love and enjoy BarbC and SpeakerToCustomers's and EnigmaticBlue's stuff, I have a hard time taking Soulless Redemptionista Spike seriously as a character. Don't care what Marty Noxious tried to feed me in Season Five and Six.

If'n you don't like stories where the author acknowledges all the warts and bad decisions and crappy choices characters made in seven years of BtVS and five of AtS – and occasionally has them acknowledged by the other characters – well... Yeah, you guessed it: [back] is your friend. My BtVS characters will occasionally call each other on their shit. And call the other guy on theirs, right back. Like Xander and Buffy in s1 to s3, before they made "Buffy is Always Right!" their motto.

What you will find is...

A bunch of seriously broken people coming together and slowly and painfully trying to unbreak themselves. And each other, sometimes. Or break each other worse, in some cases. And bumping into the furniture in the dark and snarling at each other when it hurts.

They scream and they fight and they laugh at and with each other. And they get in each other's faces and say hurtful and sometimes irrevocable things, and say stuff that just isn't always true. They are not always right – just right as they see it, which is different. And they tear verbal strips off of each other, sometimes in the most painful ways. (Sure was painful for me to write at times, anyway)

Oh, and these guys are adults, even when they're immature. They use bad language. They crack rude and inappropriate jokes during, before, and after sex. They have inner dialogues that border on insane and sometimes rub the borders out. They talk about tits and sometimes call each other cunts. They make fart jokes. I'm an adult, and I've had long term and often bawdy romances. And long time – going on thirty years in some cases – friendships with people who can say any damn thing that comes into their heads to each other, and know they'll at worst get an outraged look and a dope slap. I try to write adults, when I can.

And they love. Sometimes painfully and in the most dysfunctional ways, yeah – but that's the Buffy-verse fer yas.

Joss Whedon doesn't seem to like characters who have romances that somehow work despite everything.

I do.

And, Joss seems to think that you can't have drama with a loving real couple unless you break them up, or kill one off, horribly.

I disagree.

What you do have, is an Angel and a Buffy who've been slowly ground down by life and death and aren't sure how to ungrind.

What you do gots here is a Xander coming out of a badly failed wedding with something like six years of loss and untreated PTSD.

What you have is a damaged Cordelia who's suddenly found out those visions Doyle cursed her with damned near killed her, and she made a bargain that, in hindsight, might not have been all blood and roses. With some of her own PTSD thrown in.

What you have is two people with eighteen years of history and passion and mutual hatred and cock-eyed love, coming back together by accident.

Like Bruce Springsteen said, the highways are jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive. And these are a few of them.

And...

But that would be telling. ;)

Those of you who've read my crap before probably know that I don't beg for reviews. If you like it and wanna? Hey – knock yerself out. If you like it and hate it? Drop a note in comments saying why. Or don't.

Flames will be treated with all the derision they deserve. As a post graduate of . and years of Renderosity's C&D and Renderotica where I sharpened my teeth with the likes of Doc Legume, I ain't impressed much. And not easily, neither.

I won't flame back. I'll just smirk and ignore and move on to a worthwhile comment. Neener neener. ;)

I do, honestly, though, hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I had fun writing it. And if you do decide to drop a line in comments, I read each and every single comment and try to respond, if I can. And I treasure each and every comment – even the critical ones.

'Nuff o' this crap.

On with the show...

- Ironbear

.

And Another Thing I Hate About You!

By Ironbear

"It's well-known that men and women are different but it keeps being re-discovered with great excitement." – Ashleigh Brilliant

Book I: Pain is So Close to Pleasure

"Save me, save me, save me – Don't make me face this life alone -

Save me, save me, oh save me – For I am naked and I'm far from home." – Queen

.

Prologue: For All the Marbles...

"Even though he was an enemy of mine, I had to admit that what he had accomplished was a brilliant piece of strategy. First, he punched me, then he kicked me, then he punched me again." - Jack Handy

Quiet except for the clatter and ding of slot machines in the background, the normally loud casino was near silent as the two thugs dragged away the corpse of the man in the track suit.

Standing beside the Repo demon, Charles Gunn watched impassively as Mr. Jenoff descended the stairs towards him. Flanked by his bodyguards, the demon casino owner strode up to him, the crowd parting as he moved through it.

"Nice trick, that." Gunn gestured toward the path cleared by the body removal squad. "You gonna pull a habit out of your rat for an encore?"

Jenoff smiled as he stopped before the demon fighter, studying Gunn's face. "Tough guy. I like that. Not that it'll help."

His eyes flicked to the vanishing corpse, flickered back to Gunn's and he smirked. "Naw. Thought for my next trick, I'd pull a soul out of an asshole."

"Hey," Gunn gestured to the crowd, "Don't get no new material, the audience gets all bored and shit."

Jenoff's lips twitched into a smile. "They look bored to you?"

Gunn turned his head to study the various onlookers for a minute, a study in nonchalance. He turned back, shrugged. "Guess not."

"Not fazed at all, huh?" Jenoff's head tilted as he eyed the other man curiously. "Charles Gunn. I'm impressed. Not a lot of guys come in through that door of their own free will – not the second time, anyway."

He paused for a beat, "She must be pretty special, this girl you were gettin' ready to give my merchandise to."

Gunn's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm here to make good on my debts. You don't even talk about her."

"Or... ?" Jenoff raised an eyebrow, curious almost despite himself.

"I kill your boy here, dead," Gunn jerked his head to the Repo demon next to him, who snorted derisively. "Then I take my best shot at killing you before your boys there cut me down." A slight smile slid onto his lips.

Jenoff smiled back at him, amused. "I'd almost like to see that."

"Hey. Bet me."

Jenoff snorted, then threw his head back, laughing. "High opinion of yourself, huh?"

"Man who's got nuthin' to lose is a dangerous thing."

The two locked eyes for a long minute, then Jenoff grinned, inclining his head slightly. "Not a problem."

"Yeah? Once we're square, you don't even think about her - "

Jenoff gestured expansively, "She was never part of the deal. No worries." He glanced at the Repo demon. "Hold him."

The Repo Man reached for Gunn, and was pinned with a cold glare.

"I'm not gonna run." Beat. "But touch me and you'd better." The Repo demon locked eyes with Gunn for a long moment, saw something there he liked not at all. He backed away, slowly.

Gunn snorted. "Let's just get this over with, hey?"

Jenoff nodded, raised his hand, his index and middle finger pointed.

There was a sudden crash as the casino doors burst open, and Angel burst through with a wicked looking battle axe in his hands, a sword wielding Groosalug beside him. Lorne and Fred swept in behind them.

Several of the demonic bouncers threw themselves at the intruders as everyone froze, Jenoff included.

Angel hit the first to reach him in the stomach with the head of his axe, bringing the head around in a decapitating sweep as he doubled over. Groo slashed once at a slant with the sword and a third demon fell away, nearly bisected. Another reached for the souled vampire and Angel kicked him to the side, right into Fred's path. She brought her mace down on his head, looking startled.

The Repo demon reached into his jacket lapel as Jenoff turned from Gunn to view the melee.

Gunn took a quick step and reached, twisted the handgun out of the demon's hand and shoved it under his chin. There was a flat muffled crack! and the Repo demon fell away, his skull shattered.

Bursting through the chaos, Fred looked wildly around, her eyes settling on Gunn as he took an instinctive step towards her. Jenoff's bodyguards piled onto him, wrestling the pistol away, as another pair of bouncers grabbed him by the arms and pulled him back.

More demons rushed towards the Angel Investigations group as Groo cut down the third bouncer to reach him. One of the newcomers leapt at Fred, and Angel chopped it out of mid air to land, bleeding out, on the casino floor.

As the gang moved in, they grouped together to watch each other's sides and backs as more demons swarmed toward them. Seeing the sheer numbers arrayed against them, Lorne said in a nervous tone, "Uh, Angel-kins?"

"I know, Lorne," Angel snapped. "I know."

"We are surrounded," Groo said, not sounding nervous at all.

"I know," Angel chopped down another demon, kicking him away from the embedded axe.

"Angel!" Fred screamed, "We have to help Charles!"

"I know, dammit!" Angel said, grimly.

Groo snagged a demonic thug with his off hand and threw him to Angel, who grabbed him about the neck, lightning fast.

"Neck. Snapped." Angel warned the demon, who immediately quit struggling. "Hey. Who do I have to kill to get some service around here? I think I want to complain to the owner."

"I'm the owner," Jenoff stated, the crowd clearing as he stepped forward. Behind him were his bodyguards, followed by the two thugs holding Gunn.

"Mind telling me why yer disrupting my business?"

"Other way around," Angel said. "Actually, it's you who's disrupting my business – you're about to deprive me of a very valuable employee. Charles Gunn there – he works for me."

"Good business man looks into the backgrounds of potential employees." Jenoff said, easily. "Had you done that, you might've learned he," Jenoff jerked his head towards Gunn, smirking, "had strictly short-term prospects."

Angel shrugged, "Then I'll make a deal with you – "

Always interested in a deal, Jenoff raised a curious eyebrow.

"You release him, forget what he owes you – and I'll let you live," Angel gestured with the axe. "Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," Jenoff allowed. "Thank you." There was a beat as he looked like he was considering. "Kill 'em all."

As the various demonic thugs started forward, he turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Angel braced, and yelled out: "Double or nothing!"

"Angel – no!" Gunn shouted. One of the demons holding him slugged him in the stomach, doubling him over.

Jenoff stopped dead, turned back to Angel with his eyebrows raised. He lifted a hand, halting all of his men in their tracks.

"You're offering me a soul?" he asked, curious.

"A chance to win one anyway," Angel said. "Mine."

"How stupid do I look to you? You're a vampire. I can smell it from here." Jenoff shook his head, starting to turn away again.

"Take a stronger whiff," Angel said. "I'm a souled vampire – the only one in existence."

The AI gang stared at him. "Hope you know what you're doing, Angel-cakes," Lorne said.

Jenoff frowned, suspicious. He moved closer, sniffing as he moved up. "Oh. You're that vampire." His voice suddenly sounded very interested. "I heard about you."

Angel released the demon he was holding, shoved him away, his face showing more confidence than he was feeling. "I choose the game. I win, we walk outta here. Gunn's debt disappears," he smiled, showing all of his teeth.

"You win – " Angel shrugged, "You get us both."

A slow smile spread across Jenoff's face. "Kid? I think we can make a deal."

Angel held the brand new deck of cards in his large hands, smiling confidently and staring Jenoff in the eye. The rest of the gang crowded behind him, as another Repo demon – looking extremely similar to the dead one, slammed Gunn down into a chair behind and to the right of Jenoff and casually held a pistol to the back of Gunn's head.

Lorne, with an expression not nearly as confident as Angel's, leaned forward to speak into Angel's ear, "Brilliant stalling ploy, Big Guy. It buys us time. Now, what's the real play?"

"This is the play," Angel stated, doing an overhand shuffle.

Lorne, Fred, and Groo looked at Jenoff taking his seat across from Angel at the High Roller's table.

"Umm... really?" Lorne asked, blinking at Angel.

"Really," Angel said. He nodded to Jenoff. "We're gonna win Gunn's soul back."

"Uh, Angel-cakes. Are you sure about this?"

"Hey," Angel smiled. "I used to do this all the time, back in Galway. I grew up playing cards in bars." Jenoff listened with interest, already wearing a poker face.

"Really?" Fred sounded impressed.

"Did you win often?" Groo asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Often enough," Angel said, softly. He fanned the cards out, one handed, fanned them back together.

Sitting behind Jenoff, a demon bouncer to each side of him and a pistol to his head, Gunn looked to Fred but he couldn't hold her eyes. He glanced down and away. Fred turned back to Angel.

"This is just so wrong in so many ways. I mean, it's not money or a stuffed bunny you're playing for. It's my boyfriend," she said. There was a note of desperation in her voice.

Angel sighed. "Fred, I understand you're nervous. Don't be," he said. "Really – I've been around a long time. Played a lot of cards and won a lot of bets."

"See, that's where we're different," she said. "I tend to get lost and lose things. And I can't lose Charles."

Glancing at Jenoff with a smirk, Angel said, reassuringly, "I'm not gonna lose."

Jenoff stared at Angel, blank expressioned as his other Repo Man leaned in for a word. "You concerned, Boss?"

"Naw." Jenoff shook his head. "Like taking candy from a baby."

Groo glared out across the casino, assessing the gathered demons. A growing buzz spread out as various beings eyed the table speculatively, whispering to each other. Money exchanged hands along with chips as side bets were laid on the impending contest.

He stepped up to Angel's other side. "Angel, if we must rely on good fortune," he spoke softly, "I prefer the odds of our swords and axes and the strength of our thews. We should fight our way out."

Shaking his head, Angel said, reluctantly, "Gotta disagree, Groo. Fighting puts all of us at risk. My way's safer. And surer – I win, Gunn's free and clear. No one comes after him later."

"If you win! – But if you lose your soul, won't you go evil and start killin' everybody including us?" Fred said, her voice panicky. She looked desperately to Lorne, "Am I wrong... ?"

"You are not wrong, Sugar." Lorne sighed, then nodded to Angel. "But I got to go with Slim, here. Sorry."

Angel raised an eyebrow to Jenoff, who nodded and motioned that it was time. Angel handed the deck to the dealer. He nodded back, ready.

Turning back to the gang, he reached under his jacket and pulled out a stake below the table, paused suddenly. "Uh... where the hell is Cordy?"

Groo looked suddenly lost. "I know not. She stated she needed a room to rest in as we started over here?" The others looked around, wondering.

"That's been awhile, now."

Angel glared at Jenoff, who merely raised and eyebrow and said, "Who?"

"Our other member. Pretty girl, blonde highlights?"

"Got no clue," Jenoff spread his hands. "Just the four of you burst in here." He smirked, "Maybe she got lost?"

"Or you losted her for us?" Angel's brows lowered farther.

"Oh, please," Jenoff shook his head. "Had no idea you people were here. Besides," he gestured, "If I did grab her, don't you think I'd have her here to hold over your head?"

Angel froze at the thought, then nodded, slowly. "Guess so."

He looked at the others, weighing them, then passed back the stake to Groo with a shrug and a quirk of his lips. "If I lose... you know what to do?" he asked, very quietly.

Groo accepted it, solemnly. "Indeed I do."

"Just make it quick."

Gunn watched the table as the Repo demon leaned in behind him. He stiffened as he heard the demon whisper, "Y'know? Jenoff gives me the bodies when he's done with 'em. That girl looks... tasty."

Gunn turned his head to glower at the demon, and the bouncers tightened their grips on him. "You know? You're gonna die. And I'm gonna be there."

The Repo Man smirked, leaning back.

Around the room, demons and customers placed last second bets. Jenoff raised a hand, the crowd fell silent. He motioned to the cards and made an 'after you' gesture to Angel.

"Got a preference?"

Angel cocked his head, studying the demon, considering. He started to suggest one cut of the cards, but something gave him pause. He shrugged, "Five card stud. One hand, winner takes all."

"One hand," Jenoff said, nodding. "For all the marbles: One hand of cards. If you win, this man... " he jerked his head at Gunn, "...walks free. If I win, I keep his soul, and I get yours."

Angel smirked, "Not gonna happen, boyo." The Angel Investigations crew watched them with anxious expressions.

"I like a confident soul." Jenoff laughed. "Vampire's not only got a soul, he's got guts. Cut 'em?"

Angel nodded to the dealer, who riffle shuffled the deck and set it down between them. Angel reached out and cut it into three piles, then stacked them back together. The dealer took it back and began to deal...

There was a deathly silence in the room. Both players leaned back, looking at each other as the final card was dealt.

"Vampire gets a Three of Hearts. Six high showing, possible straight flush." The dealer took another card off the top, and slid it to Jenoff.

"And a Ten to the Boss." Without glancing at the hand, he said, "Jack high, possible straight."

Neither of the pair had a visibly winning hand – no pairs or other outward combinations. Angel had glanced at his hole card once, then let it sit. Jenoff had taken two, and a hole card at one point.

Angel was showing a Three, Four, Five, and Six – all of Hearts.

Jenoff had a similar string on the table before him: a Jack, Ten, Nine, and Seven, various suites.

Behind Angel, Fred was visibly panicking more and more by the minute – obviously keeping silent only by virtue of a heroic effort and the comfort of Lorne's hand on her shoulder. Lorne's eyes flickered back and forth between the two players, very little expression on his face. Groo was impassive, but the knuckles on the hand gripping his sword hilt were white with tension.

The Repo demon behind Gunn was smirking. The two bouncers still had a grasp on him, but they were holding him in place only with hands laid on his shoulders, their eyes avidly fixed on the game.

"You got that Deuce, or a Seven, it's all yours," Jenoff said. "Maybe." He smirked. "Other hand, I got the Eight I need, the Queen, or, really, any matching card in the hole, and I take it all."

Angel smiled. "Guess we'll see." His gaze hardened. "Call."

Jenoff smiled, reached out, and his hand hovered over the table for a long beat. His hand dropped and he flipped his hole card over.

"Pair of Jacks." His smile broadened and he said, "Beat 'em or weep."

Angel shrugged. Casually he reached out and flipped his hole card, carelessly.

A King landed face up on the table.

A hand smacked him across the back of the head, hard. "You were bluffing?!" Fred shrieked. "With my boyfriend's life?" She bounced up and down in place for a second, jittering with rage, "Gimme that stake," she said, reaching to Groo... Lorne grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back and away.

"Ow." Angel rubbed the back of his head with a pained scowl. "That hurt."

"I'll hurt you - " Fred spat out.

Jenoff started laughing. So did Gunn. "She's got spunk. Another hand for the girl?"

Angel shook his head, smiling tightly.

"Not quite, Brown Eyes," Lorne said, holding Fred by the shoulders. "Look at the card."

Reluctantly, Fred's eyes dropped to the table. Her mouth opened, worked silently for a moment. "oh," she said.

Angel's hole card was a King, all right – King of Hearts.

"You won?" Fred said, wonderingly. Then, "You WON!" she yelled.

"Broken Straight," Angel said. "But a regular Flush." He shrugged. "Flush beats anything but a Straight-or-Royal flush, no?"

There was a stunned silence. A long beat passed, then a growing murmur turned into a roar and demons and patrons began exchanging money and chips, settling bets and arguing.

"Damn straight," Jenoff said. "And, damn."

"All the marbles," Angel said. He raised an eyebrow, "Unless you welsh?"

"Please," Jenoff said, looking pained, "I do run a clean game and clean casino. Have to." He shook his head, "Bet's a bet."

He gestured, and the two demons let go of Gunn as Angel stood, reluctance in the faces. The Repo demon lowered the pistol, looking sour.

Angel gathered in Gunn with his eyes, and jerked his head towards the door. Only Gunn saw the unobtrusive gesture his hand made, down by his side, as he started to turn.

"Oh, yeah, one last thing," Angel said.

"Yeah?" Jenoff raised an eyebrow.

Angel spun on his heel, a full circle, the axe coming up and around and flashing out to take Jenoff's head clean off of his shoulders.

"I don't like the games you play here."

Groo's sword spun end over end through the air as Gunn dropped flat and rolled, burying itself to the hilt in the second Repo demon's chest. Gunn snatched the falling pistol out of the air, and yanked the sword loose as he rolled back up onto his feet. A pair of quick chops disposed of the two bouncer demons.

Angel kicked the table up and over, and his axe and Fred's mace made short work of the two surprised bodyguards.

"Now we fight!" the Groosalug roared, snatching a broadsword from the startled hands of a nearby demon.

Jenoff's head hits the floor, bouncing, as his body toppled forward onto the upturned table, a gush of yellow blood spurting out of the stump of his neck.

"Look out!" Gunn yelled, backing away towards the AI group, sword and pistol at the ready.

"It's over," Angel said, "No need to say thanks."

"Got that right," Gunn said as he fell into place next to Fred. "It was that easy to kill him, I'd have done it myself – long ago."

"uh... ?" Angel stared at him, then jerked his eyes back to the table as the yellow blood started bubbling and gurgling and something started to grow out of Jenoff's neck. "Oh... crap."

"Succinctly put, Shortcake," Lorne remarked.

All of them watch, dismayed, as a new head swiftly grew out of the stump of Jenoff's neck – larger, slimier, and even more grotesque than his former one. Opening its gaping mouth, it emitted a sibilant hiss, followed by a hideous, ear piercing shriek.

Angel looked around at all the other demons and various human casino patrons.

"So, who else here owes this guy... ?"

Outside on the street, they stood in the neon glare following their exit from the casino.

"How did you know the other patrons would jump at the chance to tear Jenoff and his gang apart to escape their debts, Angel-kins?" Lorne asked, straightening his sports coat.

Shrugging, Angel said, "Stood to reason."

"You mean you guessed," Fred said.

"Well... " Angel smirked, "Yeah."

"Thanks, man," Gunn said, his arm around Fred's shoulders. He looked around, curiously. "And... just where the hell is Sunnydale Barbie, anyway?"

"Uh... " Angel looked around. "I've been wondering that, myself... "

"As have I," said Groo, thunder clouds gathering on his brow. "Perhaps we should begin searching. She may be in deadly peril."