Luck of the Irish

Kate walked down the narrow streets of LA, trying to dodge out of drunken party-goer's ways. She sighed heavily. It was Saint Patrick's Day, and she knew that almost the entire LA police force would be out tonight, scouting for wayward drunkards. And for the first time in a few years, she wasn't one of those cops. So she had decided she'd go out for a bit, take in the scenery, and hope the party atmosphere would clear her dark mood.

She had picked black pants, and for the holiday, a dark emerald green top. No jewelry, no makeup, and sensible shoes. She wasn't out for dancing or scouting for dates. She layered on her leather jacket, using it as a shield against the cool LA night air. She made her way to the bar that had been recommended to her, and stood outside registering the smell of smoke and beer wafting through the doorway. She stood back as the door swung open, as a young couple staggered out into the street. Grimacing slightly as her ears and body adjusted to the noisy and warm atmosphere of the bar.

Not allowing herself to turn back and go home, she tucked her hair behind her ear, and defiantly set her chin. Catching the door, she walked inside. She looked around, trying to gauge the mood in the club. Not too bad, she thought, sidestepping past a few tables. She had gone in maybe a few feet, when she felt the little prickle she always felt when he was near. Turning near the bar area, she saw him.

Sitting on a barstool, alone, nursing what looked to Kate to be glass of frothy green beer, was Angel. The thought that vampires don't drink fleetingly crossed her mind, but then she realized that he was trying to fit in with everyone else. And he was...She had to stifle a snort. He was wearing a party hat? She squinted in the dark atmosphere, and sure enough, it was a small leprechaun hat that was jauntily balanced atop his head. Kate shook her head in amazement. That must be *some* beer, she thought. Smothering her laughter, she sauntered up to the bar, and ordered a beer herself.

Taking a seat next to Angel, she delicately perched on the barstool, and stared at him until he realized someone was there. Angel looked startled when he caught her eye. Then he remembered the goofy hat he was wearing, and she would swear he started to blush. "Hi," Angel muttered, staring back down at the bar counter. "Hi," Kate said, with a slight mocking grin. "Trying to scare the demons away with that hat? Or just the prospective dates?" she asked. Angel's head shot up, and he glared at her for a moment. Then he relented, trying not to smile himself. "The Host made me put it on," He explained, "Because he felt I needed to look 'festive'. And it was either this, or a button that said "Kiss Me, I'm Irish on it." "Well, if you had gone with the button, I'm sure a lot more women would be coming up to you right now," Kate said with a smirk.

Angel chose not to respond to the comment, because his mind was on something else. He had never seen Kate here. And his worry for her had grown with each passing day after her suicide attempt. This was their first meeting in a while, and he wanted her to reassure him that she was okay, but he found himself at a loss of words.

"So, what are you doing here on this fine evening?" Angel finally worked up the nerve to ask, with barely concealed concern in his voice. Kate sighed, exasperated. "Angel, I'm not getting drunk. I am fine. I just wanted to get out, get around people. I've been hibernating in my apartment for days now. I just…needed some people contact. You don't need to worry, I've been taking care of myself just fine on my own." Angel blanched, feeling guilty for not having the guts to go visit her after the night of their talk on epiphanies. He jumped slightly as her hand brushed his, as she grabbed her glass off the counter. He quickly glanced to make sure she hadn't noticed his reaction, and then spoke. "I just worry about you, that's all," he said, trying to watch his words so as to not set her off. He was not a man of words to begin with, and he was always worried he'd say the wrong thing around her.

Kate took a long drink, reigning in a slight temper. She gathered her thoughts, and then set the glass down on the bar. She traced the sweat off the glass with her fingertip. She spoke loudly, trying to get her point across over the noise of the bar. "Angel, I know. But you seem to like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Let me take one burden off of it, and assure you I'm fine." She looked deep into his tired and worried brown eyes, trying to convey her conviction. Angel sighed, but relented. "Alright, but if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call. Do you need my…"

"I have your number," Kate interrupted, finishing his sentence for him. "And I may take you up on the offer to call, even if I'm not in trouble," she said, giving him a long side glance. Then she hesitated. 'Damn, that wasn't supposed to come out' she thought. She hoped she hadn't revealed more than she wanted. She wasn't sure of her feelings for Angel. She wasn't even sure they'd be able to get along for more than a few weeks. But she was willing to give it a try. Unfortunately she may just have scared him off, knowing how skittish Angel was around her. She mentally chastised herself for having the bothersome habit of speaking before thinking.

Angel in turn gave her a long glance, then silently got up to leave. "Have a nice evening to you too," Kate said, turning to watch him put his coat on. As he looked into her eyes, Angel's words of goodbye stuck in his throat, and he turned to go. But then he hesitated, and turned back around. Ignoring Kate's confused look, he took the hat off his head, and perched it atop hers. "It looks better on you," Angel said ruefully. Then with a shy half grin, he swaggered out the door. As he walked onto the street, he turned to look in the window, and smiled inwardly as he saw Kate's shocked expression. He walked off, the image of Kate, her blond hair askew under the hat fixed in his mind. Maybe he should have worn the button. If he had, would she have…No, he thought. But the question kept nagging him as he passed through a crowd, heading towards his car.

Kate stared at the retreating form of Angel for a moment, then looked at her reflection in the mirror across from her. She looked ridiculous. She started to take the hat off, then stopped. Grinning foolishly, she pulled the hat down on her head, and settled down to listen to some of the more vocal patrons sing karaoke. This night was turning out better than she had expected.