Angel had never seen Buffy fight with such vicious, merciless drive before. Not even against Angelus.  After seeing that, he resolved to never, ever get on her bad side. “Damn. So that's what five thousand years of training and a history of mystical badassness will get you,” Cordelia commented. “Methos, you should sweat more often, Buffy, I take back every horrible thing I ever said about you.” Buffy arched an eyebrow at her. “You talk about me behind my back?” “Not after that, I don't,” Cordelia said, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace. Methos snickered. “I think she's scared of you.” Cordelia gave him an imperial look. “Don't push it, Old Man. I won't feel guilty for killing you, since you'll pop up like a tulip in five minutes, anyway.” Methos blinked, then grinned at Buffy. “I think I like her.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “If you start on that `I haven't felt guilt since the eleventh century BC' kick again, I'll kill you.” He pouted. “Spoil my fun.” “Get a new line, Methos. That one's dated. Carbon dated,” Buffy told him. Methos gave Cordelia a `pity me' look. “See what I have to put up with?” Cordelia smirked. “Hey, I live with Mr. Monochrome Black Brooding King of Pain. You'll get no sympathy from me.” Methos heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Women.” Buffy snorted. “Hey, you don't have anything to complain about. You're not the one who just had their only shirt ruined.” “Why do you think I took mine off?” Methos asked smugly. The Slayer rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, you can get away with it. You're flat-chested.” Methos looked as if he was going to say something and Buffy held up a hand, raising an eyebrow at him. “Choose your next words very carefully, Methos.” Methos' mouth shut with an audible clack. Angel chuckled. “I think you've bitten off more than you can chew with Buffy…The only time she's not talking is when she's asleep. Even then, sometimes she talks nonstop.” “Consider yourself very lucky that you're holding a baby, Angel. Otherwise, I would so be kicking your ass right now,” Buffy threatened. In a seldom-seen bout of childishness, Angel stuck his tongue out at her as if to say `nyah, nyah'. “Whose baby is that, anyway? Cordelia's?” Buffy asked. Angel's eyes widened as he realized that no one had ever told anyone in Sunnydale about Connor's existence. Cordelia whapped Angel on the back of his head. “You mean you didn't tell her?!” “Tell me what?” Buffy demanded suspiciously. “Oh, only that Connor is Angel's son by none other than Darla herself,” Cordelia said, glaring daggers at Angel, who looked as if he was fervently wishing the ground would open up and swallow him. “Uh….huh,” Buffy said dubiously, looking at Cordelia as if she had lost her mind. “Darla has been dead for five years. I should know, I watched Angel stake her. Poof, dust. She's dead.” “Well, she was until Wolfram & Hart resurrected her to try to drive Angel insane,” Cordelia commented. “It pretty much worked.” “Hey! I'm not insane!” Angel argued, offended. “Oh, so you slept with her because it was such a glowing example of sanity?” Cordelia zinged. Angel frowned. “Okay, temporary lapse of reason…But I'm not insane.” “She came back looking like she swallowed a basketball and tried to eat me!” Cordelia snapped. “Not like I told her to,” Angel muttered. “Besides, she apologized.” “Oh, gee, that makes it all better,” the ex-cheerleader said sarcastically. “Well…Angel tried to eat you a few times,” Buffy pointed out. “You forgave him.” “He was Angelus then. Totally different,” Cordelia said. “Finally, someone agrees with me,” Buffy said. “Now, we just have to beat that little fact into Angel's thick skull. Anyone got a sledgehammer?” Cordelia held her hand up and one appeared in it. “Think a ten-pounder will be enough?” she inquired. Angel gaped. “And you're calling me insane?!” “You're not really going to bash him with that thing, are you?” Methos asked. Buffy gave him a sweet smile. “Why, did you wanna be first?” “Um…No, thanks. I've already had a lobotomy this century,” Methos said, then grabbed Angel's arm. “Uh…run.” Watching the two men take off, Buffy turned to Cordelia with a slight pout. “Was it something we said?” she questioned innocently. Unsure whether or not the two women were teasing, Legolas decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and followed in Methos and Angel's wake.