Extract taken from Jeff Mariotte's story, A Joyful Noise.
"Are you really sure about this?" Angel asked. He was watching Fred weave red-and-green bunting between the balustrades on the stairway and having second thoughts. Or tenth ones, more accurately.
"Sure I’m sure," Cordelia said. She wore a long, clingy, deep red dress that shimmered like moonlight on the sea when she moved. Her rich brown hair was pinned up at the back, and a luminescence danced in her eyes. She had been looking forward to this night, Angel knew, and now it was here. "Angel, you can’t change your mind now. Again. It’s too late, there are already guests here. And I don’t understand how you can possibly not like parties."
"It’s really not hard," he said. "I just think about how much not-fun I’ve had at them over the centuries."
"But — gaiety and laughter and good cheer. People having fun together. It’s great."
"People acting much sillier than they do in small bunches, which is already pretty ridiculous to begin with much of the time. Sorry, Cordy. I understand they’re sometimes a necessary evil, but—"
"Look who’s talkin’," Gunn said.
"What?" Angel asked. "Me?"
"Not evil," Cordelia assured Gunn. "Just not exactly Mr. Sociable."
Angel looked at her for a moment until she added, "And definitely necessary." She brushed his arm with one hand and then went to the door to greet more guests.
"Cordy’s right," Gunn told him. He was more dressed up than Angel had ever seen him, wearing a rented black tuxedo with a red-and-green pin-striped vest over his white shirt. The bow tie at his neck was red as well. It made Angel feel a little self-conscious about his own attire: black leather pants, gray shirt. Not very holiday-themed. "It’s too late. Party’s started, and you just got to make the best of it."
"I know," Angel said. "But it’s the winter solstice, you know? Who knows what’s going on out there in the city? There could be all kinds of bad guys at work."
"Cordelia had any visions?"
"No, I don’t think so," Angel concurred.
"She did, you’d know about it. So just relax. You can’t have fun, that’s okay, just don’t spoil hers."
Angel nodded. He knew Gunn was correct. Cordelia had thought of the Solstice Party several weeks ago, and wanted to hold it in the Hyperion Hotel’s vast lobby. Angel had reluctantly agreed, then wavered, then finally agreed again. The party would be a good way, Cordelia argued, to introduce Fred to all their friends at once. She had met a few since returning with them
from Pylea, but her emergence from her self-imposed isolation had been long and difficult. Now she was finally coming out of her shell, and Wesley and Gunn had joined Cordelia’s mission to convince Angel that the party would be good for the young physicist.
"Plus," Cordy had added repeatedly, "it’ll be fun."
That was where Angel drew the line. There was a time when I believed that rampaging across Europe as Angelus was fun, he thought. Hanging out with Cordelia and Wesley and Gunn is fun. Opening the hotel up to dozens of people, some of whom might break into holiday caroling at any moment — that’s more like mortal terror. But the lobby smelled of fir from the enormous tree that was decorated and standing in a corner, and the place was filling up with the invited
guests.
"Don’t worry," he said at length. "I won’t spoil her night."
"Not just her night," Gunn corrected him. "Big night for Fred, too." Angel saw his gaze go to where the young lady was coming down the stairs, her last-minute decorating finally complete. Her long brown locks were swept up in back, except for a few strands that framed her face. She wore a simple white peasant blouse with red embroidery at the neckline and sleeves, and an
ankle-length skirt in a rich green velvet. Her smile was tentative at first, but then, as if sensing the impact she had on the gathered crowd — or at least, Angel thought, sensing the way Gunn looked at her — the hesitation disappeared and she beamed. Her last few steps were taken with a confidence Angel had rarely seen her display.
When she reached the bottom, Wesley was there, bowing deeply. "You look magnificent, Fred," he told her. He took her right hand and kissed it. "Happy Solstice."
Gunn looked away then, and the motion caught Angel’s attention. "I know," he said. "It is a big night for Fred. I’m sure she’ll pull it off, and everything will be fine."
"Better be," Gunn said. He flashed Angel a smile. "I’m gonna see if she needs a drink or somethin’."
© 2002 Jeff Mariotte. Taken from Angel: The Longest Night, published in the UK by Pocket Books on 2nd December 2002. Reproduced with kind permission of Pocket Books.
