Bones/Angel: Of Squints and Vampires (Brennan, Angel) PG-13
Title: Of Squints and Vampires
Author: Shealynn88
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~2600 words
Fandoms: Angel/Bones
Characters: Angel, Brennan, Wes, Cordelia
Spoilers: none. General knowledge of the shows is it.
Summary: When a demon that's not quite dead gets shipped to the Jeffersonian, it's up to Angel to keep it from killing again. Humor.
A/N: For the prompt Angel, Temperance Brennan (Bones); proof of the supernatural at doppelgang_land
Set generally late S1 Angel, anytime in Bones
Angel stumbles through the door clutching his side and slowly makes his way to the kitchen. Cordelia'll kill him if he gets blood on the lobby furniture.
"Angel! Dear God, did the Haustum do that?"
Angel winces as he sits down and Wes fusses over him. "Yeah, I think you forgot to mention the claws. That would have been a nice little detail to know before I went out and nearly lost an arm."
"Claws? He shouldn't have had claws." Wes props his arm up and looks at the long rip that runs along his shoulder and down over his ribs. If it still looks like it did five minutes ago, there's bone showing. "Hmm…" Wes muses. "He must have absorbed another demon and integrated the claws. How fascinating." Angel jumps as he probes the wound and clucks. "It's too bad I can't have a look to see exactly how it was done. I've never heard of them assimilating multiple species before…hang on, let me get something to pull this together until you can heal."
"Well," Angel calls after him, "You can come with me tomorrow to burn it, get a good long look."
Wes comes flying back around the corner. "You didn't burn it?"
Angel takes a deep breath and keeps his voice even and patient. "No, because someone forgot to tell me it had claws, and I lost the lighter fluid while I was trying not to get filleted. I'm a vampire, Wes, not a Pyroid demon. We've got until the full moon anyway. It'll be fine."
"Angel, that's only two days from now!"
"Exactly. Plenty of time."
***
"Plenty of time, you say?" Wes throws a paper down in front of Angel before he can even start in on his mug of blood.
The headline reads 'Ancient Bones Found in Los Angeles Sewer'.
"They found them," Angel says.
"Oh, yes. Not only did they find them, they shipped them off to an expert at the Jeffersonian." At Angel's blank look, "In Washington, D.C.!"
Oh.
"That could be a problem," Angel agrees. He takes a sip of blood, his mind working furiously. "Maybe we can call someone-"
"Do you know anyone on the east coast? Because I don't, and I think I've spent a bit more time networking than you."
Angel looks up at him. "Really?"
"Okay, well, maybe not. But still, the east coast? Is there anyone there you can trust?"
"It's all right. I'll just go there and burn him."
"I'm coming with you."
"No you aren't."
"Yes, I am. You'll need someone to research when you get there."
"We already know what it is."
"Well, you'll need help to kill it. It obviously got the better of you the first time."
Angel glares at him. "Well, I killed it, didn't I? Anyway, all I have to do is burn the bones. I'll get there faster without you."
Wes changes his tack. "Angel," he pleads. "It's the Jeffersonian. Do you have any idea the kind of relics they have there? The information? There are things there that I may never have the chance to see again. And the more I can learn, the better I can prepare you."
"So you can tell me about the claws next time."
Wes has the grace to look embarrassed. "Well, yes, maybe."
Cordelia strolls in and pours herself a cup of coffee as they come to an agreement. "Mornin'," she says, sitting down and grabbing the paper. "Oh. Umm…Angel, isn't that where you found that Haustum demon yesterday?"
"Ah, yeah, about that-"
"Is that the Haustum demon from yesterday?"
"Yeah, so, Wes and I are going to be out of town for the next few days. Do you think you can reschedule the appointments?"
"All…none of them? Yeah, I think I can do that. Now, how the hell are you going to get to-" she glances back at the newspaper, "-Washington D.C. by tomorrow?"
Angel shifts uncomfortably. "We were just working out the details. Personally, I'm thinking we drive."
Wes and Cordy shake their heads in tandem.
"It'll take too long-" Wes starts.
"And you've got the sunlight thing to worry about," Cordy finishes.
"We have to fly, Angel," Wes says.
"Oh, oh!" Cordy says, leaning forward. "Go Southwest. They're cheap, and you could totally Bram Stoker it!"
At Wes' obvious surprise, she rolls her eyes. "What? I read."
He raises an eyebrow in disbelief and Angel chuckles.
"Fine, so I saw the movie. Keanu was so hot." She shakes her head. "Whatever. You could still go as a dead guy. It'll save on fare, too."
Wes turns to look at Angel, tipping his head like he's actually considering it.
"No," Angel says flatly. "I am not playing dead."
"It really does make the most sense. A plane will get us there quickly, and we only have a day to get there and burn this thing before the full moon. We'll need to get an early start, and that means sunlight."
"No. No, I'm not doing it. We'll find another way."
***
"People obviously have no respect for the dead anymore." Angel is still complaining as they leave the hotel just after sundown. "You know they packed me upside down?"
"Yes, I believe you mentioned that."
"Why are you coming, again?"
"Because if the demon rises before midnight, you might need help. And if it doesn't, I can use the time to look through the Jeffersonian's extensive library of relics and tomes."
"You know they have security, right?"
Wes shakes his head. "I fight demons. I can handle security."
"Okay," Angel says. "But I think it's a bad idea."
They get to the door and start through, but a guard stops them. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, the Jeffersonian is closing. If you'll just-"
Angel is just about to gesture Wes inside so he can take the guard out when the man backs down and smiles. "Oh! Agent Booth, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sir."
Angel blinks. Who? "Umm…of course. No problem."
"And your guest, sir?"
"My guest?" He glances back at Wes. "Oh, yeah, he's coming, too."
"If I can just get a name for the register?"
"Yeah, of course. This is Agent…Wes…lian. Agent Weslian, from the ah, Long Island branch of…the…" He realizes he has no idea what he's an agent of.
"Hi, yes, I'm Agent Weslian. Now, Agent Booth, if you could just show me the, ah, artifact?"
"Oh! Right. The artifact. It's this way."
There's a huge official-looking board on the wall ahead of them with a listing of floors and sections, and he's only read the first five when Wes pulls him to the right. "This way," he mutters. "Forensic Anthropology."
"What's that?"
"Old bones."
Angel nods and follows. "Oh."
They sneak in and listen for the demon, but it all seems quiet. Then Angel catches sight of the bones on a table up on another level. "There it is," he whispers. "I told you I wouldn't need help."
"All right. I'm going to go see what I can find in the museum. Be careful." And Wes is back out the door before Angel can respond.
Angel breathes a sigh of relief. He really didn't want to fight the thing again. He looks around and disables the additional security for the second level.
Just as he reaches the top of the stairs, a woman walks out of a room to the right and looks up. "Booth! I didn't think you'd be back tonight. I'm just getting started on the analysis of the-"
Angel takes a few steps closer and she stops abruptly. "You're not Booth."
"I'm not going to hurt you," he says, lifting his hands to show they're empty. It never seems to work, but he always tries it anyway. "I just need the bones."
"Do you have a warrant?"
"It's…not really that kind of need."
"Well, you're not getting them without a warrant. This is a once in a lifetime case. These bones, they seem to be fused together into what looks like a viable skeleton, but they're different sexes, different ages; some of them have bite marks…" She pulls a cell phone from her pocket. "I'm calling security."
"No, wait. I just-I can explain."
She looks up expectantly.
"Look, those bones are from an actual…thing. A…a…creature."
The woman looks skeptical.
Angel tries again. "You know the saying 'You are what you eat?'"
Now she just looks confused. "Well, technically, I suppose that's true. But the body processes food into its most basic components-"
"Well, that saying, it's a little more literal with this guy. His bones are from the people he eats. He discards the small ones for the bigger ones, the old ones for the new ones…anyway, that's why the skeleton looks sort of human-ish. But believe me, it really isn't."
"You're trying to tell me that these bones are from an unidentified species that assimilates its prey?"
"I guess. The thing is, it's not really...dead dead. If I don't-"
The demon sits up behind her and grins, and the discussion is over.
Angel lunges forward and the woman manages to slam an elbow into his side as he yanks her to safety. That's gratitude for you.
"Hey," she exclaims in surprise, looking over his shoulder. "It's alive!"
"Ow! I think you cracked my rib!"
She looks back at him in irritation. "Well, you rushed me! I was defending myself!"
"Who the hell are you?"
She shrugs. "Doctor Brennan."
It's not what he meant but it'll have to do. "Stay here," he growls, pushing off the floor as the demon turns toward them.
It looks pretty human. Well, if you ignore that it's face is flat, it's skin is mottled and, oh yeah, it has claws. It also moves really damn fast.
It takes a quick swipe at his stomach and Angel stumbles back to avoid being gutted. It's happened before, but he's not exactly anxious to repeat the experience.
As he looks around for a weapon he notices that Doctor Brennan's disappeared. Hopefully that means there won't be any casualties tonight.
The demon lunges again and slices open his arm.
Well, no human casualties, anyway.
A shot rings out and the demon turns, giving Angel an opportunity to lunge forward and get an arm around the demon's neck. This thing was a lot easier to kill with a broadsword.
He sees the doctor over the demon's shoulder. He manages to yell, "No!" just as she squeezes off another shot.
Haustum demons are notoriously porous. The bullet goes right through the thing and puts a decent hole in Angel's thigh. "Ow," he manages, just before the demon tosses him over its shoulder toward the doctor.
Angel hits the wall with an uncomfortable crunch and now he's officially pissed off. His face morphs as he looks up. "Please stop shooting him," he says, as mildly as he can, and then he's back on his feet.
He rushes the demon at full speed, grabbing a long instrument from a tray on his way by. At the last second he dodges to the side and catches the demon's leg with his ankle, giving it an extra push as it loses its balance.
Before the thing can regain it's footing, Angel stabs the instrument through the back of it's neck, feeling the satisfying crack of vertebrae.
Finally.
He fumbles in his coat and starts dousing the demon with lighter fluid, then pats each pocket of his duster and discovers that he's lost his matches.
"Matches," he yells at the doctor. "Do you have matches?"
She looks around hurriedly and then tears a strip from her lab coat. "No," she says, "but I have a Bunsen burner."
She brings back the flaming cloth clamped in some instrument or other, and he jumps back as she drops it on the demon.
They watch it burn in silence.
"Damn," she finally says. "That was a really interesting case."
"Well, don't thank me or anything."
She looks up at him. "Your face. How did you do that? I mean, your bone structure actually changed in-in a matter of seconds. That was incredible! Is it because you're of a similar species to that?" She points to the pile of ash on the floor. "Do you accumulate bone from food sources?"
"What?" She should really be well on her way to hysterics by now. "No, I'm not like that, I just-"
She steps closer and starts probing his forehead, which distracts him completely from whatever explanation he was going to come up with. He's seen a lot of weird things in his time, and she is definitely right up there.
She's talking under her breath, more to herself than to him. "It looked like you gained some heavy brow prominence, similar to Homo neanderthalensis but there was no other indication of that type of structure-no chin reduction or increased cranial circumference-though your nose did widen."
She meets his eyes for the first time since the impromptu exam began and she looks…excited. Like Wes looks when he gets hold of a dusty old tome. "Can you do it again? Can you shift your features?"
"Umm…I really don't think this is the time-" This is just too weird.
"Oh." She seems disappointed. "You can't control it? Is it tied to your emotional state?"
"I can control it!" he protests, affronted. He shifts to prove it, smiling when her eyes widen.
She immediately starts examining his forehead again. "This completely changes everything we've ever known about bone growth. I mean, this is really amazing."
"Ah, thank you." He doesn't know what else to say.
A voice from the doorway of the first floor brings the awkward conversation to a grinding halt. "Bones?"
The angle is just right that whoever's yelling can't see Angel, and he steps into the shadows and lets his face shift back as the doctor turns around.
"I found this guy wandering around the museum. He called me…Angel." The guy snorts. "He talks like one of you squints, all that Latin mumbo-jumbo. Do you know him, or should I take him downtown?"
"I would hardly call it 'mumbo-jumbo,'" Wes says, sounding offended. "What I was trying to tell you-"
Angel sighs and steps forward. "Wes, I told you that was a bad idea." When he catches sight of the guy who's hanging onto Wes' arm, he knows who he's talking to. It's been a while since he saw himself in a mirror, but this guy is a lot like he remembers.
"You must be Booth," he says, looking down.
Booth does a quick double take. "You…Angel? Huh. And I thought Seeley was bad."
Angel looks at him blankly.
"And apparently you squints all share the same sense of humor. This is yours?" He points at Wes.
"Something like that."
"Everything okay, Bones?" The guy's eyes never leave Angel's.
"Yeah, it's fine. Angel was just showing me how he can change-"
"Okay!" Angel interrupts, starting down the stairs and grabbing Wes on his way by. "It's been fun, but it's time for us to go." He starts for the door.
When they're nearly there, Angel lets go of Wes and turns back. "Booth. Is that Irish?"
It's Booth's turn to look confused and Angel shrugs. It doesn't really matter at this point. It's a little late in his unlife to be looking for family. "Nice to meet you."
They take a cab to the hotel and Angel fills Wes in on the demon's rising and subsequent death. "So," he asks. "Did you learn anything before you got caught?"
"I did, in fact," Wes says stiffly. "According to the tome of Seer Aritonicles, the older Haustum demons occasionally generate claws."
Author: Shealynn88
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~2600 words
Fandoms: Angel/Bones
Characters: Angel, Brennan, Wes, Cordelia
Spoilers: none. General knowledge of the shows is it.
Summary: When a demon that's not quite dead gets shipped to the Jeffersonian, it's up to Angel to keep it from killing again. Humor.
A/N: For the prompt Angel, Temperance Brennan (Bones); proof of the supernatural at doppelgang_land
Set generally late S1 Angel, anytime in Bones
Angel stumbles through the door clutching his side and slowly makes his way to the kitchen. Cordelia'll kill him if he gets blood on the lobby furniture.
"Angel! Dear God, did the Haustum do that?"
Angel winces as he sits down and Wes fusses over him. "Yeah, I think you forgot to mention the claws. That would have been a nice little detail to know before I went out and nearly lost an arm."
"Claws? He shouldn't have had claws." Wes props his arm up and looks at the long rip that runs along his shoulder and down over his ribs. If it still looks like it did five minutes ago, there's bone showing. "Hmm…" Wes muses. "He must have absorbed another demon and integrated the claws. How fascinating." Angel jumps as he probes the wound and clucks. "It's too bad I can't have a look to see exactly how it was done. I've never heard of them assimilating multiple species before…hang on, let me get something to pull this together until you can heal."
"Well," Angel calls after him, "You can come with me tomorrow to burn it, get a good long look."
Wes comes flying back around the corner. "You didn't burn it?"
Angel takes a deep breath and keeps his voice even and patient. "No, because someone forgot to tell me it had claws, and I lost the lighter fluid while I was trying not to get filleted. I'm a vampire, Wes, not a Pyroid demon. We've got until the full moon anyway. It'll be fine."
"Angel, that's only two days from now!"
"Exactly. Plenty of time."
***
"Plenty of time, you say?" Wes throws a paper down in front of Angel before he can even start in on his mug of blood.
The headline reads 'Ancient Bones Found in Los Angeles Sewer'.
"They found them," Angel says.
"Oh, yes. Not only did they find them, they shipped them off to an expert at the Jeffersonian." At Angel's blank look, "In Washington, D.C.!"
Oh.
"That could be a problem," Angel agrees. He takes a sip of blood, his mind working furiously. "Maybe we can call someone-"
"Do you know anyone on the east coast? Because I don't, and I think I've spent a bit more time networking than you."
Angel looks up at him. "Really?"
"Okay, well, maybe not. But still, the east coast? Is there anyone there you can trust?"
"It's all right. I'll just go there and burn him."
"I'm coming with you."
"No you aren't."
"Yes, I am. You'll need someone to research when you get there."
"We already know what it is."
"Well, you'll need help to kill it. It obviously got the better of you the first time."
Angel glares at him. "Well, I killed it, didn't I? Anyway, all I have to do is burn the bones. I'll get there faster without you."
Wes changes his tack. "Angel," he pleads. "It's the Jeffersonian. Do you have any idea the kind of relics they have there? The information? There are things there that I may never have the chance to see again. And the more I can learn, the better I can prepare you."
"So you can tell me about the claws next time."
Wes has the grace to look embarrassed. "Well, yes, maybe."
Cordelia strolls in and pours herself a cup of coffee as they come to an agreement. "Mornin'," she says, sitting down and grabbing the paper. "Oh. Umm…Angel, isn't that where you found that Haustum demon yesterday?"
"Ah, yeah, about that-"
"Is that the Haustum demon from yesterday?"
"Yeah, so, Wes and I are going to be out of town for the next few days. Do you think you can reschedule the appointments?"
"All…none of them? Yeah, I think I can do that. Now, how the hell are you going to get to-" she glances back at the newspaper, "-Washington D.C. by tomorrow?"
Angel shifts uncomfortably. "We were just working out the details. Personally, I'm thinking we drive."
Wes and Cordy shake their heads in tandem.
"It'll take too long-" Wes starts.
"And you've got the sunlight thing to worry about," Cordy finishes.
"We have to fly, Angel," Wes says.
"Oh, oh!" Cordy says, leaning forward. "Go Southwest. They're cheap, and you could totally Bram Stoker it!"
At Wes' obvious surprise, she rolls her eyes. "What? I read."
He raises an eyebrow in disbelief and Angel chuckles.
"Fine, so I saw the movie. Keanu was so hot." She shakes her head. "Whatever. You could still go as a dead guy. It'll save on fare, too."
Wes turns to look at Angel, tipping his head like he's actually considering it.
"No," Angel says flatly. "I am not playing dead."
"It really does make the most sense. A plane will get us there quickly, and we only have a day to get there and burn this thing before the full moon. We'll need to get an early start, and that means sunlight."
"No. No, I'm not doing it. We'll find another way."
***
"People obviously have no respect for the dead anymore." Angel is still complaining as they leave the hotel just after sundown. "You know they packed me upside down?"
"Yes, I believe you mentioned that."
"Why are you coming, again?"
"Because if the demon rises before midnight, you might need help. And if it doesn't, I can use the time to look through the Jeffersonian's extensive library of relics and tomes."
"You know they have security, right?"
Wes shakes his head. "I fight demons. I can handle security."
"Okay," Angel says. "But I think it's a bad idea."
They get to the door and start through, but a guard stops them. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, the Jeffersonian is closing. If you'll just-"
Angel is just about to gesture Wes inside so he can take the guard out when the man backs down and smiles. "Oh! Agent Booth, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sir."
Angel blinks. Who? "Umm…of course. No problem."
"And your guest, sir?"
"My guest?" He glances back at Wes. "Oh, yeah, he's coming, too."
"If I can just get a name for the register?"
"Yeah, of course. This is Agent…Wes…lian. Agent Weslian, from the ah, Long Island branch of…the…" He realizes he has no idea what he's an agent of.
"Hi, yes, I'm Agent Weslian. Now, Agent Booth, if you could just show me the, ah, artifact?"
"Oh! Right. The artifact. It's this way."
There's a huge official-looking board on the wall ahead of them with a listing of floors and sections, and he's only read the first five when Wes pulls him to the right. "This way," he mutters. "Forensic Anthropology."
"What's that?"
"Old bones."
Angel nods and follows. "Oh."
They sneak in and listen for the demon, but it all seems quiet. Then Angel catches sight of the bones on a table up on another level. "There it is," he whispers. "I told you I wouldn't need help."
"All right. I'm going to go see what I can find in the museum. Be careful." And Wes is back out the door before Angel can respond.
Angel breathes a sigh of relief. He really didn't want to fight the thing again. He looks around and disables the additional security for the second level.
Just as he reaches the top of the stairs, a woman walks out of a room to the right and looks up. "Booth! I didn't think you'd be back tonight. I'm just getting started on the analysis of the-"
Angel takes a few steps closer and she stops abruptly. "You're not Booth."
"I'm not going to hurt you," he says, lifting his hands to show they're empty. It never seems to work, but he always tries it anyway. "I just need the bones."
"Do you have a warrant?"
"It's…not really that kind of need."
"Well, you're not getting them without a warrant. This is a once in a lifetime case. These bones, they seem to be fused together into what looks like a viable skeleton, but they're different sexes, different ages; some of them have bite marks…" She pulls a cell phone from her pocket. "I'm calling security."
"No, wait. I just-I can explain."
She looks up expectantly.
"Look, those bones are from an actual…thing. A…a…creature."
The woman looks skeptical.
Angel tries again. "You know the saying 'You are what you eat?'"
Now she just looks confused. "Well, technically, I suppose that's true. But the body processes food into its most basic components-"
"Well, that saying, it's a little more literal with this guy. His bones are from the people he eats. He discards the small ones for the bigger ones, the old ones for the new ones…anyway, that's why the skeleton looks sort of human-ish. But believe me, it really isn't."
"You're trying to tell me that these bones are from an unidentified species that assimilates its prey?"
"I guess. The thing is, it's not really...dead dead. If I don't-"
The demon sits up behind her and grins, and the discussion is over.
Angel lunges forward and the woman manages to slam an elbow into his side as he yanks her to safety. That's gratitude for you.
"Hey," she exclaims in surprise, looking over his shoulder. "It's alive!"
"Ow! I think you cracked my rib!"
She looks back at him in irritation. "Well, you rushed me! I was defending myself!"
"Who the hell are you?"
She shrugs. "Doctor Brennan."
It's not what he meant but it'll have to do. "Stay here," he growls, pushing off the floor as the demon turns toward them.
It looks pretty human. Well, if you ignore that it's face is flat, it's skin is mottled and, oh yeah, it has claws. It also moves really damn fast.
It takes a quick swipe at his stomach and Angel stumbles back to avoid being gutted. It's happened before, but he's not exactly anxious to repeat the experience.
As he looks around for a weapon he notices that Doctor Brennan's disappeared. Hopefully that means there won't be any casualties tonight.
The demon lunges again and slices open his arm.
Well, no human casualties, anyway.
A shot rings out and the demon turns, giving Angel an opportunity to lunge forward and get an arm around the demon's neck. This thing was a lot easier to kill with a broadsword.
He sees the doctor over the demon's shoulder. He manages to yell, "No!" just as she squeezes off another shot.
Haustum demons are notoriously porous. The bullet goes right through the thing and puts a decent hole in Angel's thigh. "Ow," he manages, just before the demon tosses him over its shoulder toward the doctor.
Angel hits the wall with an uncomfortable crunch and now he's officially pissed off. His face morphs as he looks up. "Please stop shooting him," he says, as mildly as he can, and then he's back on his feet.
He rushes the demon at full speed, grabbing a long instrument from a tray on his way by. At the last second he dodges to the side and catches the demon's leg with his ankle, giving it an extra push as it loses its balance.
Before the thing can regain it's footing, Angel stabs the instrument through the back of it's neck, feeling the satisfying crack of vertebrae.
Finally.
He fumbles in his coat and starts dousing the demon with lighter fluid, then pats each pocket of his duster and discovers that he's lost his matches.
"Matches," he yells at the doctor. "Do you have matches?"
She looks around hurriedly and then tears a strip from her lab coat. "No," she says, "but I have a Bunsen burner."
She brings back the flaming cloth clamped in some instrument or other, and he jumps back as she drops it on the demon.
They watch it burn in silence.
"Damn," she finally says. "That was a really interesting case."
"Well, don't thank me or anything."
She looks up at him. "Your face. How did you do that? I mean, your bone structure actually changed in-in a matter of seconds. That was incredible! Is it because you're of a similar species to that?" She points to the pile of ash on the floor. "Do you accumulate bone from food sources?"
"What?" She should really be well on her way to hysterics by now. "No, I'm not like that, I just-"
She steps closer and starts probing his forehead, which distracts him completely from whatever explanation he was going to come up with. He's seen a lot of weird things in his time, and she is definitely right up there.
She's talking under her breath, more to herself than to him. "It looked like you gained some heavy brow prominence, similar to Homo neanderthalensis but there was no other indication of that type of structure-no chin reduction or increased cranial circumference-though your nose did widen."
She meets his eyes for the first time since the impromptu exam began and she looks…excited. Like Wes looks when he gets hold of a dusty old tome. "Can you do it again? Can you shift your features?"
"Umm…I really don't think this is the time-" This is just too weird.
"Oh." She seems disappointed. "You can't control it? Is it tied to your emotional state?"
"I can control it!" he protests, affronted. He shifts to prove it, smiling when her eyes widen.
She immediately starts examining his forehead again. "This completely changes everything we've ever known about bone growth. I mean, this is really amazing."
"Ah, thank you." He doesn't know what else to say.
A voice from the doorway of the first floor brings the awkward conversation to a grinding halt. "Bones?"
The angle is just right that whoever's yelling can't see Angel, and he steps into the shadows and lets his face shift back as the doctor turns around.
"I found this guy wandering around the museum. He called me…Angel." The guy snorts. "He talks like one of you squints, all that Latin mumbo-jumbo. Do you know him, or should I take him downtown?"
"I would hardly call it 'mumbo-jumbo,'" Wes says, sounding offended. "What I was trying to tell you-"
Angel sighs and steps forward. "Wes, I told you that was a bad idea." When he catches sight of the guy who's hanging onto Wes' arm, he knows who he's talking to. It's been a while since he saw himself in a mirror, but this guy is a lot like he remembers.
"You must be Booth," he says, looking down.
Booth does a quick double take. "You…Angel? Huh. And I thought Seeley was bad."
Angel looks at him blankly.
"And apparently you squints all share the same sense of humor. This is yours?" He points at Wes.
"Something like that."
"Everything okay, Bones?" The guy's eyes never leave Angel's.
"Yeah, it's fine. Angel was just showing me how he can change-"
"Okay!" Angel interrupts, starting down the stairs and grabbing Wes on his way by. "It's been fun, but it's time for us to go." He starts for the door.
When they're nearly there, Angel lets go of Wes and turns back. "Booth. Is that Irish?"
It's Booth's turn to look confused and Angel shrugs. It doesn't really matter at this point. It's a little late in his unlife to be looking for family. "Nice to meet you."
They take a cab to the hotel and Angel fills Wes in on the demon's rising and subsequent death. "So," he asks. "Did you learn anything before you got caught?"
"I did, in fact," Wes says stiffly. "According to the tome of Seer Aritonicles, the older Haustum demons occasionally generate claws."