SPENCER:

“Hey– uh–” Eyebrows pull together, knitting, while a deep crease etches itself across her forehead and her nose scrunches. She’s drawing a blank on the name. She knows this face, and actually the name is sitting right there on the tip of her tongue. She just– can’t– “–Cordelia.” There it is. “I know this is sort of last minute but uh– I need a place to uh– ya know.” She hates talking about it, hates even acknowledging her alter ego. “Somehow the cops found my cage and there’s a bunch of police tape around the entire thing and– it isn’t safe. At least not for tonight. I’m desperate.” She almost tacks on the word ‘please.’ Almost. 

     “Spencer.” Tanned arms cross over an ample chest, cautious eyes meeting pleading ones with only a hint of congeniality shining through. But as always, Cordelia’s a sucker for a demon is distress ( worryingly so, actually ), so the facade lasts for but a moment longer before she sighs and leans over, fingers snagging a key ring from Angel’s desk drawer. Sure, she’s totally making an EXECUTIVE DECISION here, but really? The last thing any of them need to deal with is a werewolf on the loose, herself included.

      “Fine; follow me.” the brunette orders before turning away. Thin heels clack against cool tile as she makes her way to the basement, not even glancing back once to make sure the lycanthrope had followed. “But Angel better know that the SECOND he gets back, I’m going home – no way am I gonna be on babysitting duty all night! Besides, risking becoming wolf chow before I’m even twenty-one? So not an appealing option.”