Becoming What, Exactly?: Part 18
by Theory Queen
The finished sculpture, entered in the art contest at the last minute, won second prize. First was an oil painting of a bowl of petunias.

"Oh, no, not again!" wailed Cordelia looking at the red ribbon stretegically decorating her creation. "I always win second and never first!"

Giles raised his eyebrows when he saw the ribbon, suddenly reminded of a bawdy ditty he and his pals had sung in college. "Ach, lad," he murmured, smiling at the memory, then coughed. "Well done, Cordelia. It certainly looks like Angel; that is, what I've seen of Angel."

Willow's comment was ably expressed by her completely round eyes and whispered "I'll never be able to look him in the eye again!"

Early the next morning before dawn, hours after Mrs. Summers had closed up the art gallery where the show had been, Cordelia woke up and yawned. It was just in time; shortly after came a light rap on the door. She got to her feet and stretched, then opened the door. "Come on, it's all set!" she said. The zebra-striped van that had been waiting across the street backed up to the door, and Oz got out and opened the cargo doors.

"So, I'm part of the gang enough for you guys to borrow my van when you need to, but not enough for you to tell me what's going into it?" he asked. "Not that I'm nosy-I just like to know my place in the world."

Xander got out and patted him on the back. "Don't feel bad. You're in good company; I only found out last week." He shook his head. "Believe me, I'd rather be in ignorance right now! And also asleep."

"Oh, good," Oz commented. "Then I'm the only lucky one here, huh?"

Oz, Xander, and Giles went quietly into the building and gazed at the full-length sculpture swathed in cloth. Giles lifted one corner of the fabric and shined his flashlight onto the face. "Yes, this is it." He said.

"That looks like Angel," said Oz.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" Xander responded with a grin.

"Yes, uh, gentlemen, let's move along, shall we? Time is of the essence." Giles said.

"That's something that's always puzzled me," Oz responded as the three of them heaved the heavy clay onto their shoulders. " 'Time is of the essence.' The essence of what?"

"You've been around Willow too long," Xander groaned.


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