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Angel peels off the ruined fibreglass suit and brushes lint and dust off his jeans and shirt. He squashes the suit up, rolls it into a ball and drops it into the bag that Fred's holding open. "File that under 'good idea in theory', I think."

Fred gives him a slightly rueful grin, and closes the bag. Angel's gaze slips past her. "How is she?" he asks.

Fred looks back towards where Nina is lying on her side, in front of the open cage. There's a long line of grey fur down her spine and livid green puncture wounds either side of it, but most of her skin is pink and human. Chase, who's kneeling by her side, looks up at House and says something. House nods, and Chase picks up Spike's coat and gently covers Nina with it.

"Doing well," says Fred. "Seems that Mannika venom is its own antidote. She was infected when she got bitten, so when she, uh, bit back, it more or less cancelled itself out. I think she's going to be fine." She checks her watch. "For about another nine hours, anyway. It's still a full moon tonight. It might have stopped her being a werewolf permanently, but it hasn't stopped her being one at all."

She runs a hand through her hair. "Did you get through to Wesley?"

Angel nods. "Finally, yes. He's getting a cleanup crew out here to - well, to clean up." Both their eyes slide to the remains of Vogler's body, then snap back. "And arranging a sizeable bank transfer to Chase's friend for the hire of this place. And to replace the stock that got damaged." He fingers one of the ripped rubber dresses on the rail.

"It's not your colour anyway," says Spike. He hangs a set of handcuffs back on a hook. "This place is pretty poorly equipped, really. I think this girl's customers are getting a bit of a raw deal."

Angel rolls his eyes. "Of course, you're an expert."

Spike flashes him a grin. "I know my way around this kind of place." He taps Chase on the shoulder. "Tell your mate that if she wants some proper gear, I know some people can fix her up. You know what I mean."

"She's not my mate," says Chase quickly, with a surreptitious glance at House. "I barely know her. I just went out with her sister a few times, that's all. And no, I don't know what you mean."

Spike looks him up and down. "Right. Course you don't. You're as pure and innocent as a choirboy."

"I was a choirboy," says Chase, and offers a couple of lines of Ave Maria as proof. His voice cracks on the last note and he turns it into a cough. "Not quite the soprano any more, though," he says.

"I think tenor's more your style," says Lorne, giving him a long, thoughtful look.

There's a knock on the door, and they all turn towards it. "Sir?" says a burly-looking guy in grey overalls. "We're here from Specialist Solutions. I understand you have a disposal issue that needs taking care of."

"Yeah, yeah," says Angel, waving him inside. "The, uh, issue is over there. Do what you've got to do and send your invoice to Wolfram and Hart."

He gets a curt nod in return and then a small crew of guys in similar overalls walk in, armed with buckets and silver briefcases. They set to work with quiet efficiency, and Angel looks back at Fred. "Let's go," he says. "The helicopter will be waiting for us back at the hospital."

*

Foreman checks Nina's heart and temperature one last time, then smoothes the blanket over her stretcher. He straightens up and turns to Fred. "She's gonna be fine."

"Yeah. I think she is." Fred smiles and abruptly thrusts out her hand. "Thank you, Eric. For, you know, everything."

He gives her a surprised-looking smile and, after a moment's hesitation, takes her hand in his. "No problem. It's what we do. Kind of. Not the demon stuff so much, maybe, but - " he breaks off, and grins. "Well - now we have a new specialty, huh?"

He pauses for a second, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card. He looks at it for a second then holds it out to Fred. "Just in case you ever need a second opinion."

She takes it and smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You never know."

"Fred," says Angel, coming up behind them. "It's time to go."

"Oh, yeah, okay." She looks back at Foreman. "Well. Bye, then."

He nods, then turns back towards the office.

As she watches him walk away, Fred looks down at the card in her hand. "Do we have a department of diagnostic medicine?"

Angel shakes his head. "I don't think so. We have medics, but..."

"Maybe we should. I mean, it could be useful, having someone like that around." As he reaches the door, Foreman glances back. She smiles and gives him a little wave. "Maybe we should think about opening up a position."

*

Spike nods towards House, who's engrossed in conversation with Cameron. "You should go for it, you know."

Chase jumps. "Huh? What?"

"With him. You've got a damn sight better chance than she does, I'll tell you that for nothing."

"I don't, uh, I don't - "

Spike grins. "Yeah," he says pointedly, "you do."

Chase opens his mouth to protest, then catches Spike's eye. He blinks at the raised-eyebrow, don't-give-me-that look and gives up. His face flushes and he stares resolutely at his feet.

Spike's grin widens. "You should tell him. Just grab your balls in both hands and flat out, up front, tell him."

"Right, sure." Chase snorts. "Look - you've met him. He humiliates people like it's his mission in life. You don't really think that'd actually achieve something other than get me made into a laughing stock and/or fired, do you?"

Spike considers this, then shrugs. "You'd be surprised. It works more often than you might think - even with people who really do have a mission in life. Sometimes they just need a bit of a nudge to work out what they want. A bit of a push in the right direction." His eyes glaze over, a nostalgic expression forming on his face.

Chase goes back to watching House and Cameron. She's tight-lipped, and her arms are folded defensively. "I'm not so sure. Some people, maybe, but - " he pauses, and shakes his head. "He's really not like most people." He blinks. "Actually - could he be a demon...?""

"Nah. He's your normal common-or-garden homo sapiens, all right. Well, maybe not quite so normal. But he's not a demon. Not that there's anything wrong with a bit of inter-species interaction, of course. Humans and vamps can interact very well." He winks at Chase, who flushes again

He laughs. "See, this is why he walks all over you. You make it too much fun not to."

Chase sighs. "Yeah, well. I don't think I'm exactly a natural dom. I can't see him sitting back and letting me give him a push in any direction, can you?"

"Well... maybe. In the right circumstances." Spike looks around swiftly, then reaches inside his coat. "Here," he says, and pushes something into Chase's hand. Chase looks down, and sees a rather dirty and crumpled styrofoam cup.

"There wasn't much left," says Spike. "But it should be enough to encourage him to listen to any, uh, suggestions you might have."

"Spike," calls Fred, before Chase can reply. "Come on, we're leaving."

Spike raises his hand in return. "Well," he says to Chase. "It's been fun. If you're ever in L.A. and all that, yeah?"

"Yeah," says Chase distractedly, still looking at the cup. Spike gives him an affectionate pat on the shoulder and walks off. He links arms with Fred and they head towards the door.

*

Lorne strides down the corridor after Angel, Spike and Fred, his cell phone clamped to his ear. "Harmony? It's me. I - yeah, okay, what messages?"

He listens to Harmony reel off a string of names, and nods impatiently. After today, he's really not in the mood to do any celebrity ego-handling. He's got things on his mind that suddenly seem more important than publicity photos that haven't been adequately airbrushed. Things like life, and death, and family - and the lies that are told about all three.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. Tell them all I'll look into it get back to them. But first, I want you to get me a number in Sydney, Australia. I want to speak to a Dr Rowan Chase."

*

Cameron faces House, being careful to look him squarely and assertively in the eye. "This is my resignation," she says "It's something I've been thinking about for a while. It's - it's what I need to do right now." Despite her best efforts, her gaze slips away from his.

He looks at the crisp white envelope she's holding out, but doesn't take it. "What are you going to do?"

"Take a break," she says. "For a while, at least. To think about what I'm doing. What I want." She takes a breath, and straightens her shoulders. She's made her decision, now she's just got to see it through. "I'm going to spend some time in L.A."

He nods slowly. "Ah. I see. Don't tell me, one of these guys invited you back to see his etchings."

She smiles - a small, private smile. "His sarcophagus, actually." The smile seems to irritate House, so she keeps it going.

"You're not going to change your mind," he says. She doesn't think it sounds like a question, so she makes no attempt to answer it. She just puts the envelope on his desk and walks away.

*
"Hey," says Foreman when the phone is finally answered. "It's me."

"Eric?" says a sleepy voice. "Damn, bro. You know what time it is?"

Foreman glances at this watch. "Ben, even allowing for the time difference, it's not early - or late - enough to justify that question."

"Huh. I see you still a smart-ass, then." The voice sounds more awake, and somehow manages to be both grumpy and warm at the same time. Foreman smiles.

"What do you want, anyway? 'Cos if it's about that car I sold Mikey, I swear I didn't know the - "

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just wondered if you still had a number for Ronnie."

There's a pause. "What? Why would you want that?"

"I just - I just wanted to talk to him, that's all."

"Crazy Uncle Ronnie? What the hell you got to talk to him about?"

Foreman sighs. "Yeah, well, that's kind of what it is. You know, I'm not so sure he was crazy."

*

In an opulent, expensive hotel room, Gunn slides over silky sheets to run his hand lightly along the smooth curve of Cuddy's stomach. She arches her back and sighs deeply as his fingers drift lower, pulling his head down for a long, lingering kiss.

When it finally breaks, she licks her lips and takes in a small, hitching breath as his fingers continue to move. "Charles, shouldn't you - shouldn't you call your friends, tell them what you found out about Vogler and that coffee place? It might be important."

Gunn kisses her again, then rolls them both over. She straddles him, her hands reaching down to skim over his nipples. He glances at the phone by the bed. "Yeah, sure. I will." Cuddy lifts herself up and then lowers back down, and he gasps. "Later. I'm sure they've got it all under control."

*

House walks slowly back towards his office, almost bumping into Wilson coming the other way. "Hey," Wilson says, sounding slightly distracted. "Haven't seen you around. How was your day?"

House stops, rubbing his chin. "Well, let's see. Cameron quit, Cuddy went AWOL and I spent most of my day getting shot at in a sex dungeon with a couple of vampires. Oh, and my patient turned into a werewolf and ate Vogler, who turned out to be a demon. So I'd say it's been pretty interesting, all things considered."

Wilson looks up from the chart he'd been studying. "Why do I even bother talking to you?" he says, shaking his head with a disappointed look on his face. "Tell me, why? The simplest, most innocuous question in the world, and you still can't even give me a straight answer. I give up on you, you know that? I just give up."

He gives House a final glare and stalks off. House smiles softly to himself, and limps back to his office.


-end-