this is pretty random. i don't care. bwahaha.

What do most people do at night? Excluding all such activities as…well, you know.

That's right. They sleep. Sleeping is nice. It's very fun.

Sleeping is what Angel and Collins were doing at 1:37 a.m. when the phone rang.

Angel woke up at the first ring, Collins at the second. Both of them ignored the third and fourth rings. At the fifth, Collins groaned and rolled to the side, slamming his pillow over his head.

"Make it stop…" issued in a muffled tone from underneath the pillow. Angel sighed and sat up, rubbing one eye with her fist. She squinted with the other at the cheap, luminous clock beside the bed.

"Oh god, it's the middle of night…" she said sleepily. The phone rang on and on. Most people gave up after six or seven rings. Not this caller. Angel lay back down and curled up into a ball, her back pressed against Collins' side for warmth. "Baby, go get it…please?"

"Can't, sleeping," came the reply. Angel shifted around and winced as the phone trilled again.

"No you're not…"

"Wanna bet?"

"Pleeeeaaaase?"

"Never…"

"Oh, fine…but you owe me," she groaned, swinging her legs out of bed and standing up. Angel yawned and nearly sleep-walked to the phone, the night chill raising goose bumps on her bare arms. Finally locating the phone in the dark, she grabbed the receiver and lifted it to her ear.

"H'lo?"

"Angel, that you?" chirped a perky voice. Angel let out a loud groan and fell against the wall.

"Maureen…why are you calling in the middle of the night?"

"Well, see, it's a funny story. I was out clubbing, but Joanne didn't know, and even though I left her a very polite and friendly note, she locked the door on me. So I'm trapped outside the apartment and I had a lot of change—don't ask me why—and I thought it might be nice to call you and see if you had any idea how I could get inside without waking Joanne up. Although even if I did wake her up, I doubt she'd let me in. But you do have great ideas, so I was wondering…" Angel pressed a hand to her forehead.

"Maureen, it's either too early or too late for this…god, did you check for a spare key?" There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then Maureen's voice tentatively giggled.

"See, you think things through so much better than me. I would never have thought of—"

"G'night, Maureen," Angel grumbled, hanging up the phone. She trudged back to bed, shivering with relief as the still warm blankets wrapped around her when she climbed back in. She snuggled up to Collins, both to show affection and to get even warmer. Collins shifted around and mumbled something that sounded like, "Back off, you…you toasters…" Angel pressed her face into his ribs and began to drift off to sleep.

The phone rang again.

"Oh god, no," Angel almost wailed, curling up into a tight ball. Collins moaned and thumped one hand against his pillow. The phone rang insistently, agitatedly, until neither of them could stand it anymore. Angel, for once reverting to the less friendly side of herself, jabbed Collins in the sensitive spot on the side of his stomach. He jumped and sat bolt upright.

"You're up, get it…" Angel mumbled, burrowing under the covers like a mole. Collins groaned and tried to lie back down but Angel poked him again and he reproachfully got out of bed.

"You're pleasant," he grumbled, making his way to the phone. Angel only squeaked and huddled deeper in the blankets.

"What is it?" growled Collins as he picked up the phone. Maureen's perky voice nearly knocked him backwards.

"Collins! I thought you were asleep…oh well! Anyways, I was calling because, well, see, I was locked out of the house and Angel told me to look for a spare key, but Joanne either doesn't have one or she brought it in, so I'm back to square one. I was wondering if you knew anything I could do?"

"How about go to hell?" Collins suggested grumpily.

"Oh, don't get touchy. C'mon, you're just as good at having ideas as Angel."

"Maureen, did you even consider climbing in through those pretty square holes in the wall called windows?" Collins asked tiredly. Maureen shrugged with her voice.

"Well…there's only one I could get through…"

"Then get through it, for fuck's sake."

"Okay, sure. Good idea! I'll just—"

"Bye," Collins said, hanging up. He walked slowly back to the bed, first lying down and then taking a moment or two to wrest some of the sheets and blankets from the round bundle that was Angel. He nestled down in them and closed his eyes. Angel sneezed.

Five minutes passed, and both of them were on the very verge of falling asleep. Even breathing, exact level of warmth, lulled by the soft beat of New York, hands touching…they were in prime position to drift off. Clouds covered the moon and the world was still…

A cheerful, perky, thoroughly detestable ringing sound pierced the air.

"I'm going to kill her, I'm going to rip her limb from limb," Collins mumbled angrily as he sat up and pressed two fingers to his temples. Angel emerged from her nest too, burying her face in her hands and grinding her teeth together.

"Collins, I really want to yell at her. I mean, I really want to. But I'm a little bit desperate now, so if you could just—"

"Oh no, we're doing this together." Collins grabbed Angel's arm and pulled her out of bed. She reluctantly complied. He led her to the phone, which was still ringing with infuriatingly happiness. Collins wrenched it off the hook.

"Hey, it's—"

"We know who it, and we fucking wish that you would just leave us alone when we're trying to sleep and just deal with your own goddamn problems by your goddamn self. It's all your fault and I am getting insanely pissed off, so don't call again or I'll cheerfully rip your arms off. 'Night." Collins slammed the receiver down. Angel touched his arm.

"Baby, that sounded a little harsh…"

"I don't care. She's being an inconsiderate little bitch about this, she does it all the time, and I'm fed up with it. C'mon, let's go back to bed and try to get some sleep." Angel laid her head on his shoulder and the two of them made their way back to bed.

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Over at the loft, Mark looked confusedly at the now dead phone in his hand. He had been calling to tell Collins about the…um, item of a particularly humiliating nature that he left under the table earlier that night, and which Mark had glimpsed as he got up to get a drink of water. Now he shrugged and replaced the phone. If Collins was that ticked off about it, he could just get it in the morning. Until then, Mark decided he might as well use some of the time to get a few shot of said item with his camera. It never hurt to have some leverage.

i know you people don't like it when i do this, but just...use your imagination for the item in question.