Lorne knew from strange. He lived in L.A. after all and had sat through Mariah Carey in Glitter, highly disappointed but somehow already forseeing it when she'd sing in an award show previous to the movie's release. He really did know from strange. But grabbing onto a bottle to feed Connor and ending up in the middle of the road of ... did that say Kansas? Now, that. That was a little strange even for him. He thanked the gods and goddesses, that little Angel hadn't been in his arms, because-Lorne thought as he looked at the bottle in his fists-that would have caused a big Angel-sized crisis like no other. As it was, Lorne was suspecting that Fred was currently putting together the pieces and Angel was considering decapatation of the Gerber Bottle heads. As much as Lorne loved his Angel-Cakes, and as flattered as he by what he knew would be well meaning over-protection ... he wouldn't deny, even as he tried to stay out of the headlights of cars, that Angel was a bit .... slow at times. Just a little bit.
He knew his friend well enough, that there being theories of Gerber being filled with demons. Sighing, Lorne hoped that Cordelia killed that idea quicker than she did most. Because while he was sure Kansas was a very nice place he had a strong feeling that the natives would be more likely to look twice at a big green guy with red horns than the natives of LA would.
Lorne walked pretty far, not that he had much of an option. It wasn't as if he could hitch a ride. He walked and kept as much to the shadows as he could. And when he couldn't, he kept his head bent. Like he currently was. Feeling the sidewalk spotlight, glaring onto his shoulder both accusing him for being different, and as a beacon. Come one, come all, and see the green, red horned demon.