fandomtownies | Caritas - Saturday Evening [Open]

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Caritas - Saturday Evening [Open]

Weevil checks on the band as usual to make sure they are intact. He then opens the doors to Caritas.

The Host is also in the house tonight.

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Lorne eyed the stage, frowning slightly as Phoebe sang, and nursing a drink that thank Qhanrgroth didn't taste like chicken.

When she finished, he waved her over to his seat.

"Well, that was a mouthful, darlin'. And an earful."

Phoebe saw Lorne wave her over and slid into a seat next to him.

"Hey Lorne. How's it going?"

Bel tried discretely to get close enough to listen in. Without being too obvious. Which he was.

Lorne gave him the eye. "Is your name any pastry-related variation on 'Phoebe' ? If not, scramola, big guy. If so... I admire your chutzpah, but scramola anyway."

Phoebe looked up and saw Cole and smiled. "I'll be back in a few, Cole."

"All right," he muttered, then went back to the lounge to wait.

"My seabreeze tastes just like chicken and my spine still hasn't recovered from the astral potholes on that last trip back to this dimension, but let's talk about you, sugar. The song might've been Meatloaf, but something tells me it was all about that grade-A USDA-approved beefsteak over there."

Lorne nodded toward the lounge, and Belthazor.

Phoebe bit her lip and then nodded slowly. "Yeah, love of my life, determined to be the enemy."

"Well, he's not exactly a precious ray of heavenly sunshine right now, no, and I don't need to hear him sing to pick that up." Lorne shook his head. "But your boy's gonna do what he's gonna do - only thing you can do, skidoo, is make a decision about where you stand."

He eyed her gently. "I get the feelin' you know most of that already, though."

"It hurts not to be with him, Lorne. I love him so much, I would move worlds for him... but..." She dropped her eyes. "I cannot support what he wants to do."

"Right there with ya, hon; not like I don't know what your boy's been up to. Gimme a choice between Angel and his funkier half, and I'm gonna vote for the one with the soul every time, leather pants or no."

"Question you're asking yourself though, whether you know it or not, isn't do you support the big comeback show for death and leather. We both know you don't and you won't." Lorne sipped his drink, then gestured with it. "The question is when your boy does what he does, where are you gonna be? With him, or not?"

Phoebe bowed her head and then sighed. She played with the top of the table and then looked over her shoulder.

"I want to be with him, Lorne, more than anything. Problem is, I can't take second place to his desire for the Bloodbath King."

"See, and there's a mental image that, while pretty on a visual level? I did not need on a psychic one." Lorne shook his head to clear it.

"I can't tell you what you're supposed to choose, doll. I can only lay out what you were telling me up there; you have to make the call on what to do with it."

"You're gonna love the big undeserving jerk whether you two are sharing a pillow or not. You're gonna fight what he's up to whether you're in his room or halfway across town. I don't see those things changing."

He spread out his hands. "So your call to make is whatever it is you do -- stop our man Cole, help him, fight him, try to change his mind -- where's the best place for you to be doing it from? Is he a better person with around, or with you gone? Are you better off out of his life or in it? "

"Better for me... or better for him?" Phoebe sighed. "I know there's good in him, Lorne No one else sees it, but I do. I know he loves me, but..." she frowned. "It's hard, Lorne. I don't want him to die... but I don't want others to die, either."

"I didn't read your boyfriend, kiddo; this is all about what you need. If that happens to be the beefsteak there..." Lorne spread his hands again. "It is what it is."

Phoebe nodded at Lorne. "I do need him, Lorne, as crazy as that sounds. I"ve been running from that since we broke up and it just hurts more."

"I'm not staunchly opposed to running as a concept; it can save somebody's pretty little kiester -- mine, for instance -- in a pinch. But there's always a point when you have to turn around and--" Lorne smiled wryly. "Face the music.

Phoebe bit her lip and then nodded. She stood and kissed his cheek.

"Thanks, Lorne. I think I know what I need to do."

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Caritas - Saturday Evening [Open]

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