Clamour for glamour

Walking down a dimly lit street along which he's never walked before, Lorne gets the weirdest sense of déjà vu. He's been in these shoes, walked in them for more miles than he'd care to count, but he's seldom felt as embarrassed as he does now.

Him, ask anyone for a charm to make him seem human? Him. The guy who'll gladly make a pun at his own greenness, but would never give it up for all the money in the world? The demon who flaunts everything he's got, who makes excuses to no one... To think he'd come this far, sink this low, grow so desperate.

But it's a straw he's more than willing to grasp for.

If that Mister Someone is out there in the big, big world, he can't limit his searching to the gloom and doom of nighttime nookie. He can't spend his days locked up somewhere far above the city streets where that dream man could pass on by unnoticed.

He needs added oomph. He needs to be able to go out in the sun. Meet new people, and have a little faith.

You gotta have faith. He walks up to the house, all the way up to the door, lifts his hand to the doorbell-- And presses it.

This is it.