Go TeamC/A
Title: Dream It, And the Heart Will Follow
Author:
Posted here:
Rating: NC-17(a real warning)
Category:
Content: C/A
Summary:
Spoilers: After all the Darla stuff, but no trip to Pylea. And no Buffy dying.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made. Also, any info that Cordelia may spout about dreams, didn’t come from a book, but the Dream Catcher website……(cool site)
Distribution:
Notes:
Thanks/Dedication:
Feedback:is requested, please- okay, big fat beg…
Chapter one
Cordelia could feel the cool hands teasing at her flesh. The strong fingertips massaging into her skin, swirling into her pleasure points. Cordelia had no idea she had so many. She squirmed further into mattress, her legs and arms thrown wide to give the hands greater access. Cordelia's breathing became rough as she felt something wet and moist lapping at her center. Then the tongue moved, trailing up her body, tenderizing the flesh around her neck. A silent scream caught in her chest as the most incredible sensation shot through her body. Her nerves exploded, short circuiting her brain causing her mind and body to shut down. Cordelia’s shallow breaths became stronger as her body restarted itself. Cordelia gasped out loud and awoke.
Cordelia’s eyes were drawn to the empty space next to her on the bed. Why did she even bother to look? Angel wasn’t there. He was never there and never would be. No, he was just in her dreams; torturing and tantalizing her body, doing things that she didn’t even know were possible. Cordelia groaned and flipped over on the bed, punching at the pillow in frustration. She didn’t understand why this kept happening. And that last dream, it had been way too intense. This was getting out of hand.
The first dream had occurred the night before her birthday. She had been thinking about Angel and wondering whether he would remember the event not.
Earlier that day, actually the whole prior week, Cordelia had resisted the urge to leave major hints. No, she had wanted to see if he would remember on his own.
So, that night before her birthday, she had gone to bed, planing her revenge if Angel did forget. Then came the dream. Angel touching her, loving her. She had woken up, flushed, satisfied and freaked.
But she had managed to calm her self down, rationalizing that the dream meant nothing more than her desire for Angel to do something nice for her on her birthday. Granted, she had been thinking more on the lines of a nice dinner or sweater from the vampire, not the ultimate orgasm. But that could have been just because she was sexually frustrated, after all she hasn’t had sex since that Wilson debacle. And she did see Angel every day, he was hot, and she had been thinking about him before she went to sleep. Maybe it wasn't that unusual that he appeared in her dream.
So, Cordelia had gone to work, deciding that it was time for her to rejoin the dating world. Of course, the first time she caught a glimpse of Angel she was a little embarrassed. The dream had been pretty lurid. But, she calmed herself and smiled brightly at the vampire. After all, Angel didn’t know what she had dreamed. Now that would’ve been embarrassing. And she decided that she wouldn’t say anything about the missed birthday. She just didn’t want to be reminded of the dream.
That had been three weeks ago and she had that same dream every night. Well substantially the same dream, each starred Angel and in each he was touching, kissing, and manipulating her body to ecstasy. And each morning she would wake up feeling wonderful for about a second, before she realized that she had been dreaming and remembered who and what she had been dreaming of.
Cordelia groaned again and reached over into her bedside table. She pulled out a notebook and pen. As the dreams had progressed in frequency and intensity, Cordelia had resorted to researching dream interpretation. All that she read suggested that she should write down the contents of each dream. So, that she could remember them and try to find their meaning. She glanced through the numerous scribbled pages to find a new page. She grumbled as she started to write. Cordelia didn’t know why she kept doing this. It wasn’t like she couldn’t remember each and everything Angel did to her in the dreams. It was plaguing her. She could barely look at Angel without her face turning beet red. Every time he moved or picked up some thing, she found herself staring at his body, his hands, reliving what his dream self had done to her the night before.
Cordelia had even tried masturbating before she fell asleep, imagining every sexy actor or handsome man she had ever seen, anybody but Angel. Hoping that if she gave herself pleasure, then she wouldn’t need the dream Angel to show up to cure what sexual frustration that she must be experiencing. But she stopped after the first couple of times. It hadn’t worked. As soon as she fell asleep, Angel appeared. Doing things, making her feel things that only mocked at the pleasure she had given herself.
And the interpretation stuff was just nonsense. All she got out of that was that sex dreams could mean almost anything. They could be in compensation for a lack of sex in daily life. Well, duh, that wasn’t a hard one to figure out. Or they could be about power, control and manipulation. She didn’t get that part, unless that fell under the heading of the dream where Angel had tied her to the bed and did amazingly delicious things to her. Cordelia hadn’t been able to look at Angel all the next day at work after that dream. Another interpretation was that it was a wish fulfillment or a memory.
No. She didn’t want to have a sexual relationship with Angel; she couldn’t even if she wanted to. And it sure in hell wasn’t a memory. No one had ever touched her like her dream Angel did. No one definitely hadn’t tied her up or sucked her blood while creating the most exquisite pleasure throughout her body. Oh god, Cordelia’s eyes widened as she read what she wrote, Angel had fed off her in her dream. And she liked it. Cordelia shrieked out loud, that was just sick.
This had to stop. Self-pleasuring hadn’t worked, she would just have to go find someone hotter than Angel, someone who could give her as much, no more pleasure than Angel, someone that wouldn’t bite her. Someone to stop her dreams. Cordelia looked again at what she wrote, she grumbled and threw the notebook on the floor. Cordelia wasn’t at all sure that such a person existed. Blood-sucker or not.
She couldn’t go to work today. She just couldn’t. There was no way she would be able to face Angel.
The gym. She would go to the gym. There were always hot guys there. She would find one.
Chapter two
“Where’s Cordy,” Angel asked Wesley.
Wesley looked up from his books. “She’s not coming in today. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“What do you mean not feeling well?”
“I mean not well as in not being well,” Wesley said returning to his books.
“Is she sick, how sick? As in vision sick? Is she hurt? What’s wrong with her?” Angel demanded.
Wesley sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face. He had hoped that he could get through the tomes today. He had thought he had an excellent opportunity, with Cordelia staying home. The young woman had been acting all nervous and jittery lately. It was very distracting. Especially, when every time, she acted fidgety, Angel got fidgety. Definitely making the atmosphere in the hotel tense and nonconducive to quality research. But, it seemed that Cordelia being absent was not having the calming effect, he had hoped for, Wesley thought, noting the vampire’s anxiety.
“Angel, Cordelia said she was just a little under the weather. Tired. Cordelia contemplated that she may be getting a cold. A cold, Angel, not any type of fatal or painful calamity. If it makes you feel better, call her, let her tell you.”
Angel nodded. He would call Cordelia. It’s not that he didn’t trust Wesley. But sometimes, Angel thought that Wesley didn’t fully appreciate delicate nature of his seer and the effects that her visions had on Cordelia. Besides he wanted to hear her voice.
Angel waited as Cordelia’s phone rang and rang. Finally, he heard the phone pick up. “Cordelia,” he started, then stopped as her answering machine babbled on it’s greeting. Frustrated, Angel waited for the beep. “Cordy, Um, Wesley says you’re not feeling well. Do you need anything? What’s wrong with you? Oh, this is Angel. Call us if you need anything” Angel hung up the phone.
“She didn’t answer.” His tone accusatory, somehow blaming Wesley.
“She is probably at the drugstore.” Wesley reasoned.
“She shouldn’t be out if she is not feeling well.”
“Of course, she is probably just asleep.” Wesley corrected, rolling his eyes at the vampire.
“Right,” Angel went back to the phone.
“Angel, what are you doing?”
“If Cordelia is sleeping, then she’ll answer.” He picked up the phone again.
“Angel, if she is sleeping, then it is because she needs to sleep," Wesley emphized. "Cordelia doesn’t need to be awaken just for you to tell her that she needs to sleep," he chided.
Angel wanted to argue with Wesley, but Wesley was right. Angel hung up the phone. And paced. “What are you researching, do you need any help?” Angel asked hopefully. He was restless, he needed something to do other than think about Cordelia. Angel wished that there was a demon to kill. But it had been pretty quiet lately.
“I'm researching the hupnos demon.”
“The demon that liked to put people to sleep before it ate them?” Angel questioned. “Why? That was more than a couple months ago and I thought you were satisfied that its ability was similar to that of an animal’s that paralyzed their victims before killing them. Anyway, we killed it.”
“Yes, but after further reflection, I feel I may have jumped to hastily to that simplistic conclusion. The victims we found, the live ones, of course, were more in a trance state than one of paralysis. There is a distinction. So, “ Wesley picked up the book.
Angel took the book, Wesley was holding. “This isn’t a text on demonology. It’s ancient Greek…..Mythology.”
“Yes, well, I may have gotten a little sidetracked.” Wesley confessed, grabbing the book back.
“A little,” Angel raised his brows, a small smile appearing on his face.
“The hypnotic aspects of the demon’s ability, is somewhat related to the mythological abilities of Morpheus,” Wesley justified.
“Morpheus?”
“One of the sons of the sleep god. His abilities were geared more to dreams, rather…….”
“Dreams?” Angel questioned, not listening to the rest of Wesley’s statement. “Dreams,” Angel repeated his mind no longer on the former watcher or his research. Angel wandered towards the stairs.
“Angel?” Wesley called after him, annoyed at the retreating vampire. Angel was being rude.
“I’m going upstairs. Um, if…….if Cordelia calls.” Angel added, going up the stairs.
“I’ll let you know,” Wesley shook his head. Both the vampire and Cordelia were acting strangely of late. But, their behavior didn’t seem to be dangerous or of the evil nature, so he wouldn’t be concerned. Wesley turned back to his text on the spells and dreams of Morpheus. Wesley was quite excited as far as he could tell the tome was authentic. Written thousands and thousands of years ago by true Greek scholars. Wesley had already managed to translate one of the spells. It was very interesting. And it was amazing that Wesley had found it hidden in that old bookstore.***
Angel sat in the chair by his bed. He pulled out his sketchpad and with several broad strokes, the picture was complete. The finished drawing joined a stack of sketches he had done over the last few weeks. His hands quickly pulled at another clean page, moving and creating a new picture.
Chapter three
Angel’s hand finally stopped. He looked around at the scattered pages on the floor then back at the finished sketch on his lap. His fingers traced the delicate lines. Why? This was not right. He quickly got up and gathered all the pictures together. He stalled, holding the papers over the trash can. Angel looked again at the works of art. They were the best drawings he ever had done. Angel stood undecided. They were wrong, disturbing and beautiful, he couldn’t destroy them. With a shake of his head, he hid the drawings in his bottom dresser drawer. Angel had to get out of the room.
Wesley was still reading at his desk.
“Has……Cordelia called,” Angel hesitated. He felt somewhat uneasy saying her name. But he was worried. It had been hours since he had left his message.
“Um, “ Wesley jumped.
Angel smiled. Wesley hadn’t been reading he had been sleeping. “What? The sleep god, put you to sleep?”
“Of course not, I was just resting my eyes.” Wesley defended righteously.
Angel raised his brows. “Did she call?”
“No.” Wesley got up and tried to hide his yawn. “I think I will go home now. I’m sure Cordelia is fine.” He added.
Angel just nodded. He wasn’t so sure.
As soon as Wesley left, Angel went back to the phone. Still no answer. Either, Cordelia wasn’t at home, which wasn’t right, not if she wasn’t feeling well. And if she was home and not answering the phone, something must be wrong, Angel decided. He couldn’t just sit here and wonder. Angel grabbed his coat.***
“Cordelia,” Angel knocked loudly on her apartment door. “Dennis,” he called after getting no answer.. The ghost always let Angel in when Cordelia wasn’t home or sleeping. Dennis seemed to take pity on Angel’s need to be assured of Cordelia’s safety. Not that Angel asked Dennis to perform that task often, well not that often, because if Cordelia ever found out both her dead roommate and dead boss would really wish that they were oblivious dead, not just differing variations of the un-dead.
The door slowly opened. Angel stalked in. “Thanks Dennis. Where’s Cordelia?” he asked impatiently. A soft sweatshirt flew towards Angel’s head. Angel studied the garment. “She’s at the gym?” he asked, reading the emblem on the shirt. “But she doesn’t feel well,” he argued. The ghost tossed the shirt back up in Angel’s face.
“Okay, okay,” Angel conceded. Dennis obviously thought Cordelia was at the gym. But that didn’t make any sense. Why would Cordelia be at the gym? If she wasn’t feeling well, she should be home not working out. If she wasn’t sick, then she lied to Wesley. But that didn’t make sense either, Wesley or Angel wouldn’t care if she wanted to take time to go to the gym. Something was not right.
Angel looked around. Nothing seemed out of place, there was no sign of struggle. He went into her bedroom. Angel stood in the middle of the room taking an unnecessary breath swallowing the fragrance of the room. Cordelia’s scent was all over the apartment, but it was concentrated in this room. He could practically taste its flavor in the air. Angel started as an object was shoved under the bed.
Angel swiftly moved. He grabbed at the object. It was a notebook, one that Dennis didn’t want him too see. The book kept inching away from Angel’s grasp.
“Dennis,” Angel commanded. “If that has anything to do with where Cordelia is, hand it over now.”
“Kill me.” The ghost whined on the mirror with lipstick. Angel knew that the ghost was not daring him, but expressing a worry about Cordelia’s reaction. Which made the vampire more anxious to see what the notebook contained.
“I’ll let Wesley exorcise you, you know he wants to.” Angel threatened.
“Will not,” the writing challenged.
“Yes, I will. Cordelia won’t even know until it’s too late.” Angel promised.
“Mad,” the lipstick warned.
“Maybe, but I’ll deal with it. You will be gone.”
The small book flew into the vampire’s hands. Angel sighed in relief. He had been bluffing; Angel couldn’t even contemplate Cordelia’s rage, if Angel had actually lost his mind enough to exocerise the ghost. And even if he had, Angel would never have been able to convince Wesley too face her resulting rampage.
Dennis slammed door. Leaving in a huff, after coming to the same conclusion.
Angel settled on the bed, turning the book over in his hands. Maybe, he shouldn’t do this. Dennis had seemed pretty adamant that Cordelia wouldn’t want Angel to see it. Maybe it was personal, a diary. Angel hesitated, then opened the book. Dennis also, implied that whatever was in there had something to do with where Cordelia was. And finding that out was more pressing than Cordelia’s sure to be anger at Angel’s violation of her privacy. And anyway, she may never discover it, he thought hopefully. He started to read.
The first page was dated May 29th. <***
Well, it all started on my birthday, actually the night before.. Which no one remembered, by the way. I knew I should have re-programmed the hotel’s security system……. <
***
Damn, Angel growled as a sinking feeling centered in deep in his gut. Damn, damn, damn, he thought over and over again. He pictured Cordelia punching in numbers of the old office’s security code, chattering how Angel would always have to remember her birthday. May 22nd, that was almost a month ago. He meant to remember, really he did, but he had become preoccupied. Cordelia must be livid. But she wasn’t or at least she didn’t seem to be. He would have expected the Hotel to have been burnt to the ground on May 23 or some sort of maiming or dismemberment to his being. But nothing, no snide remarks, no hurt pouting, nothing. In fact, she just seemed to be uncomfortable around him. Oh lord, Angel worried, maybe she was too upset to be mad. Maybe, she was uncomfortable around him, because she hated him. But that didn’t seem right either. He would know if she hated him. Wouldn’t he? Puzzled, Angel looked back at the notebook, there was only one way to find out. He started to read again. <
***
…Oh well, this isn’t suppose to be a bitch journal. But a recording of the dreams…..Like I was saying they started on my birthday. I know, I’m suppose to write in this stupid book right after each dream, now. I didn’t then. So, I’ll just recap. In the first one, I was in the hotel, sitting at the desk. Angel came in. He had been out, doing who knows what, probably killing something yucky. I was excited, it was my birthday, I remember thinking that he was going to give me a birthday present….I’m not bitching, that’s what I thought …….XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX <***
Angel skipped the next section. It had been heavily crossed out. Cordelia had been having dreams that had started weeks ago. Dreams that she felt she needed to record. Dreams that had him in them. Or was he just in the first one? What had he done in the dream? Angel turned to the next page. <
***
Jeez, this is harder than I thought…..I don’t know why. It’s not like anyone will ever read this, but me. Still……. <
***
Angel glanced up guiltily. He really shouldn’t be reading this. But, he had to know what Cordelia had dreamed. <
***
But…..I was at my desk waiting for Angel to give me my present. But he didn’t give me a present. He……he touched me. His hand was cool, strong. It traveled down my arm. Next thing, I’m on the desk, nude. Angel is over me, not nude. I try to touch him, but I couldn’t reach him. Which was weird, because he could touch me……And boy, did he touch me. His hands caressed at my skin, never stopping. I still can feel the tingling of my flesh. It was cold, it was hot. His mouth…..Oh god, his mouth. His tongue swirled around my nipple. I can feel the moistness…..or was that from last night’s dream. Or maybe from one of the other’s, who knows anymore….It’s all a blur, one big mind-blowing blur. Oh, this has got to stop. I can barely look at him anymore. This stupid journal thing better work, I’m going crazy…….XXXXXX Oh, this recapping idea isn’t working. XXXXXX Okay, last night’s dream. Hotel again, but not in the lobby. This time Angel’s bedroom, not the first time there, but the first time chained to the bed…… <
***
The small book dropped to the floor. Angel stared at the written words leaping off the pages at him. They had a life of their own, beckoning him, drawing him back to them. He gulped and leaned tentatively down to pick the book up. Scared of the power of those words, the imagines that they created, and mostly the feelings that they evoked in him. <
***
Wow, that was hard to write. But nothing happened, the earth didn’t open up. No one pointing a finger and shouting pervert. But, damn’t I don’t want to be chained up. Nope. Don’t. I don’t care how sexually frustrated I am. No chaining for me. That stupid book, says that having sex dreams could be the subconscious compensating for a lack of sex in daily life…..Well, duh. I’m certainly lacking. But why chains? And WHY ANGEL? Sure, the book says it’s normal to dream about the people in your life. So why not Wesley or Gunn or hell, anybody……. <
***
An involuntarily growl emerged deep within Angel’s throat as Angel came to the end of the page. Wesley, Gunn, “Never,” he growled out loud, not even realizing that he made a sound. <
***
Sorry, I had a fit of the giggles. Wesley…..I can see it now. Me chained spread eagle on the bed, waiting patiently as Wesley finished the chapter on domination and submission in some ancient sex journal. Too funny. XXXX Oh, this is crazy. But the book said to write everything in the dream. So here goes. I just hope, if I ever die, Dennis will burn this…..Though, I guess I don’t really have to worry about my mother going through my stuff. And if I’m dead, I won’t have to face Angel, so here goes.XXXX Oh god, how am I going to go into work today. I can do it. I just can’t go up to Angel’s room. Nope, ‘grr’ guy is going to have to get his own blood today. No fetching and carrying for me. I think I would die if I had to see that bed….XXXXXX I’m rambling. Take a deep breath and write. Chained to the bed. Angel is in between my legs, his face so close. I can feel his breath. I know he doesn’t breathe. But I can feel the air leaving his mouth, blowing on my center. Not to cool, but to heat. There are flames building in my belly. His damn hands again are touching me, they won’t leave me alone. They’re everywhere. I fight against the restraints. Did I mention that the wrist straps are leather, soft, supple, not hurting, but frustrating, preventing me from touching. I felt so helpless, well actually I didn’t. Weird, uh. I felt so alive, so strong, so like I was going to burn in flames and die. Then I did die. Not literally or anything, but I know my heart stopped. It did, I swear. It was his mouth that did it that time……XXXXX Well, that pretty much covers everything. I was ravished by my best friend, while chained to a bed and loved every minute of it. I am so going to hell. <
***
Angel quickly turned the pages, his eyes scanned all of the other entries, one for every night since the 29th. They were all the same. Well, not the same, but they each recounted Cordelia’s dreams. Dreams of Angel making love to her, bringing her to ecstasy in every conceivable manner, in every possible location. Angel gripped at the pillow that had some how gotten into his hands. Cordelia’s scent intermingled with the power of her words. Angel was going insane. He had to get out of there, before he exploded. But there was one last entry, today’s. Angel wasn’t sure if he had the control to read anymore, but he had to know what Cordelia had dreamed last night, that made her unable to face him.
Because, Angel was sure that was what happened. It was written through all of her journal. Each passage described a more intense, erotic encounter between the two of them and after each one she claimed that she couldn’t wouldn’t be able to face him at work. Well, she didn’t come into work today; she wasn’t returning Angel’s messages. She was hiding from him. Angel had a sinking suspicion why and what happened, but he had to make sure.June 12
Okay, it’s official….I’m nuts. Last night, Angel bit me, not a little bite. But two big old holes right smack on my breast. And then, he drank, sucked blood right out of my body….. XXXXXX <
***
The sinking suspicion in the pit of Angel’s stomach grew into a sharp pain. He had been right. Angel forced himself to read the rest of Cordelia’s reaction. Steeling himself for her disgust. <
***
Angel is a VAMPIRE!!!. Okay, that’s not a surprise. I knew that…..I’ve seen his ‘grr’ expression, I’ve made his blood cocktails, but when in the hell, did I start to want to become his drink of choice. XXXXXX Oh god, the dream was so real and so……so…..XXXXXXX Oh, I’m so warped. First, the chains, now this. The stupid book said that vampires in dreams represented powerful and evil creatures that mean all sorts of bad thoughts and feelings of helplessness. Helplessness? Well, maybe….. and the chained sex romp may have meant the same thing. Am I helpless? XXXXXX Well, other than not being able to stop dreaming about Angel, I don’t think I’m helpless. The stupid writer probably never met a vampire, much less one with a soul. Powerful and Evil? Powerful, sure, but evil? Angel isn’t evil, he isn’t even mean and honestly, I never feel helpless when I’m with Angel. I mean sure his stronger, but he doesn’t make me feel helpless, like he is going to hurt me or anything. Not, even dream Angel, with the chains and wicked overbite. I’m mean it was Angel. I trust him. I lXXXI like him, a lot. The real Angel, I mean. Well, the other one too. It’s not like I dreamed of a strange vampire. No, the idiot that wrote that book doesn’t have a clue what he was talking about. I’m not helpless, just crazy, and majorly frustrated, that’s all. But Angel bit me and I XXXXXX God, it was so amazing. I blacked out. Went in nerve crashing, sensual overload. XXXXXX I wonder if it would be like that with a real vampire. XXXXXX Not worth the risk. All the others would just kill me. Angel is the only souled vamp that I know and I can’t very well go up to him…..Hi Angel, mind sucking my blood while rubbing your hands all over my body and pounding into me with your…..oh could I just go in a hole a die, now. This is so sick. Damn, I do have a death wish. Knock, knock, Angelus reminder. XXXXXXX OH THIS HAS GOT TO STOP!!!! He is driving me crazy. I can’t see him. I AM not going into work, no way. XXXXXXX Okay, obviously, it has been way too long since I had sex. This is just my subconscious telling me I need to get laid. Though, honestly since when has my subconscious gotten so horny and so warped.…..Oh, whatever. This has got to stop - I just need to get laid, that’s all. Then, the dreams will stop. Won’t they? XXXXXXXXX OOkay, I can do that. Just exchange a real live guy with my dream Angel. XXXXXXXX I just need to find a hot, live, not best friend type that won’t chain me or bite me.XXXXXXXXX <
***
Angel reread the passage. The words ‘amazing’, ‘nerve crashing sensual overload’, ‘sick’, ‘death wish’, ‘Angelus’, ‘laid’, ‘hot live guy’ jumped out at him. Cordelia was as confused as he was and as effected. But at least, he didn’t go out looking for a substitute for the dreams. Angel glanced at the tattered pillow in his hands and she wouldn’t either, he growled out loud. Angel got up, the remains of the mutilated pillow and the notebook fell to the ground. Angel left the apartment with nothing on his mind but the retrieval of Cordelia before any hot live guy touched her in any manner.
The air of the apartment crackled with Dennis’ annoyance at the mess the vampire left in his wake. The ghost closed the front door and started to straighten up. His communications to Angel smeared and slowly disappeared from the bedroom mirror. Dennis just hoped that Cordelia didn’t notice the missing pillow, the ruined lipstick, or the ripped pages of her notebook. Otherwise, there would be hell to pay.
Chapter four
Angel grabbed the first man he saw. The muscle bound man squirmed against the wall trying to breathe.
“Cordelia Chase, where is she?” Angel growled dropping the man to the ground.
“Who?” the man struggled to get, rubbing at his throat. The man looked around for his buddies. But all of the other occupants of the gym began to become very interested in their workouts. No one wanted to get near the obviously insane and enraged dark man. Angel glared, “brown hair, beautiful, hazel eyes, gorgeous,” A man would have to blind or dumb not to notice Cordelia. Angel studied the steroid enhanced man; he could be dumb. “This tall, beautiful,” Angel growled helpfully.
“Oh, her, that’s her name?” The man stood up. “She left with Billy”. He pointed to a picture of a blonde man holding some sort of trophy.
“Where?”
The overly buff man spouted out Billy’s address. The man didn’t really mind sending the crazy guy to Billy. Billy was a pain in his ass, always challenging his superiority at the bench press, always getting the young babes attentions. Though, in the tasty brunette’s case, he should be grateful, he thought studying his reflection in mirror. Damn, he grunted he was going to have bruises on his neck. He was going to have to use extra heavy makeup tomorrow at the muscle man competition. But at least, judging by the dark man violent reaction, Billy wouldn’t be in any condition to come to the gym for awhile. And that meant that Billy couldn’t enter this year’s indoor triathlon contest, the muscle bound man thought with glee. He stared at the trophy in the picture on the wall. He really wanted that trophy this year.***
Angel collected himself as he heard someone come to the door. His shoulders hunched over in an attempt to shorten his stature and with a forced apoplectic smile on his face he turned as the blonde man opened the door.
“Can I help you?” asked Billy.
“Billy?”
The blonde nodded hesitantly.
Angel smiled. “Thought so, I recognized your picture from the gym. Great trophy. Must have been hard to win. …..Oh, you must be wondering why I’m here. I got your name at the gym. I just joined. They all say that you are the man to talk to about setting up a training regimen. I realize that it’s late, but I was in the neighborhood. I’d love to get a shot at that trophy next year. Obviously not this year,” Angel disparagingly gestured at his smaller body.
“Oh, you don’t look too bad, nothing that a few curls couldn’t fix up. Oh, come in,” Billy enthusiastically invited Angel in. Billy wasn’t necessarily stupid, he just really liked to talk about his workouts and he had never met a vampire before.
Angel was in the apartment in an instant. Cordelia’s scent filled the air. Angel didn’t think; he just reacted. Billy went flying across the room landing in a heap against the wall. Angel stalked around the apartment taking in the various smells of the room. Cordelia had been in the living room, but no where else. Angel strode back over to the unconscious man, lifting him from the ground. Angel nostrils flared as he caught Cordelia’s fragrance on the man’s clothes. Angel smelled the man’s musk and the slight smell of dried sweat, but nothing more intimate. Angel dropped the man unceremoniously to the ground and left.***
Cordelia threw her gym bag on the sofa. “Well, that was a waste time,” she grumbled out loud, wincing at her sore shoulders. Cordelia had gone to the gym with the sole purpose of going home with a man. And she found one. She had gone up to Billy, the reigning king of the gym, flirted outrageously, and feigned ignorance of all things mechanical. Her old Cordettes would have been proud, hell, her mom would have been proud. Billy was interested all right, but first he had to show her how to use the treadmill, Stairmaster, rowing machine and he took her through the whole nautilus circuit. Cordelia guessed, she should have been flattered, Billy said he never left the gym less than three hours, but for her he would leave in half the time. So, for the next hour and half, she ran, stepped and lifted. It hurt but she did it because she wanted Billy to make her forget her dreams of Angel. But it hadn’t worked. As soon as she got to his apartment, she had felt nervous and babbled on and on forever.
Finally, he kissed her and she almost gagged. His lips had looked fine, firm and just the right size. But they felt like a fish, all wobbly and ooey. But, she tried, really she had. But, then his skin, his hands, they were so warm. How could warm hands cool and soothe her inflamed skin? Granted, her skin hadn’t been heated or even near warm and would have never gotten that way, not with those hands touching her. Cordelia gave up. Billy wasn’t going to make her forget her dreams, not when his every touch led to an unfavorable, unsatisfying comparison to her dream Angel. Thankfully, Billy was a nice guy, and not an asshole or anything. He let her change her mind without too much trouble. God, he must have thought she was an idiot, the way she babbled an asinine apology and ran out of there.
Oh god, she was an idiot and hopeless idiot. Cordelia rolled her aching shoulders and yawned. But then again, maybe the trip to the gym wasn’t a complete waste of time; she was exhausted. Maybe she would sleep straight through the rest of the night with no dreams. But first she had to take a shower, Cordelia was all sweaty and she needed to wash the feel of Billy’s hands off of her skin.
She started as rapid sharp knocks landed on her front door. “Cordelia.” Angel’s voice resounded through the wood.
Cordelia sunk into the couch. Please, make him go away, she chanted frantically in her head. She couldn’t face Angel, not with the dream still so firmly imprinted on her mind and body. Especially, not after what she had almost done tonight. What if he could tell? Angel had been able to smell that Wesley had had sex, even down the person’s hair color.
The knocks got louder, the voice more urgent.
Angel wouldn’t go away, not when he knew she was there. And that would be impossible for him to miss, Cordelia’s heart was beating out of her chest.
Cordelia struggled and got to her feet. She was an actress or at least she wanted to be, right. Right, she reassured herself, she could do this.
Angel stilled and waited for her to open the door. He listened as she dragged her feet across the floor. Angel knew that she didn’t want to see him. And he almost hadn’t come. Angel had been satisfied by his trip to Billy’s apartment that the man hadn’t taken advantage of Cordelia’s anxiousness to rid herself of the dreams. But Angel had to see her, just to make sure that she hadn’t tried anything like that again with anyone else.
Angel wasn’t mad at Cordelia, he understood her confusion, but he had to admit that he was a little hurt that she had been so ready to jump into bed with someone other than him. A low growl vibrated in his chest. Okay, Angel thought, maybe he wasn’t as calm about it as he should be. But as long as Cordelia hadn’t let anyone else run their hands over her or kiss her or……Angel forced himself to stop thinking, it was just making him angrier.
“Hi,” Cordelia said meekly as she opened the door narrowly. Her head peeked around its corner.
“Can I come in?”
“Of…..of course,” she stuttered moving away from the door. Cordelia forced herself to meet Angel’s eyes as he stepped over the doorway. She couldn't stop the heat that rose to her face.
Angel studied the nervous young woman. Cordelia smelled like that man and of old and new perspiration, but of nothing else. His eyes raked over her taking in every square inch of her body, finally resting their scrutiny on her lips. Angel’s eyes narrowed, she had been kissed, but not well or for long, his mind calmed his agitated demon. He could live with that, this time.
Cordelia squirmed under Angel’s gaze. She felt like she was being examined by a magnifying glass. “It’s late. What do you want?” She tried to go on the offensive.
“You didn’t come into work.”
“I called and told Wesley,” she said now on the defensive.
“That you were sick. But you weren’t home all day. I called.”
“Oh, well…I didn’t feel, I felt out of sorts. I thought I was getting sick. But actually, I was just run down. So, I went to the gym. Thought some exercise would you know boost my metabolism, my energy…..So, I went to the gym,” she repeated, her eyes dropping back down to the floor.
“All day?” Angel raised his brows.
“I took a steam, swim, massage, an aerobics class, did stuff,” she rambled. “Why are you giving me the 2nd degree, I didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested. “It’s late. I’m tired. What do you want?” She said back on the offensive.
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I was worried.”
“Oh,” Cordelia bit at her lips. “I’m fine. Thanks. Bye.” She gestured to the door.
“So, you will be at work tomorrow?” Angel said not moving.
“I….” Damn, Cordelia shouted to herself. She resisted the urge to stamp her foot and cry. She didn’t want to go to work tomorrow or ever. She didn't want to watch the vampire all day. Watch him use his hands to pick up the phone, pick up a pencil, pick up a book, and pick up a mug of blood to drink. Needing him to touch her to make her dreams a reality. Cordelia glanced anxiously at the vampire; she had to get him out of there. “Yes. Now go. I’ve got to…..To take a shower. I’m all stinky from…the gym, then to…..bed.”
Angel nodded. “Yes, Cordelia, you should go to bed, and first you should take a shower, you are all stinky……from the gym…….,” Angel agreed. “Quite unpleasant.”
Cordelia gasped not in outrage but nervous fear. Cordelia got the distinct nerve racking sensation that Angel wasn’t talking about her obvious sweaty condition.
Angel smiled and moved closer, his large hand caressing her face, then cupping her chin. “Then have your sweet dreams,” Angel gently kissed her forehead and left.
Cordelia stood stock still as the door closed behind him. He knew. How could he know? He couldn’t. He may be a vampire with super sonic senses, but he wasn’t a mind reader. And Angel wouldn’t think her dreams were sweet, not at all. He would be appalled. He was just using the nice standard goodnight wish and kiss. That’s all. Calm down, Cordelia urged her rapidly beating heart. She took deep long breaths. Angel didn’t know. He would never know. Cordelia just had to make it to the shower, then to bed, then to sleep.
Please, Cordelia whined to the heavens, no dreams tonight. She had to go into work tomorrow and if she had another dream she would either jump Angel when she saw him in the morning or go running madly out into the street. Cordelia stumbled into the bathroom, her mind unable to block out Angel’s departing caress and words. Her hand shot up to where he had laid his cool hand. The skin was blistering. She was so going to hell, because she wanted him, her best friend, and the vampire with the tenuous soul. She would dream. Angel had unknowingly made that a surety. And god, she couldn’t wait. Cordelia would have to worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Tonight she would lay in her dream Angel’s arms, loving every torturous moment.
Chapter five
Angel sat on the floor of his bedroom staring at all of the sketches he had done over the last three weeks and the small wrapped package lying next to them. He had found it as soon as he started to pull out the hidden pictures. Angel had forgotten that it was there. He had placed it in the back of the bottom drawer months ago.
It was a small package; it contained a thin silver chain with a three-dimensional angel pendant attached to it. It looked fragile and delicate, but it wasn’t. It had been crafted in platinum. Angel still didn’t know why he had gone into that antique store, but he had. Then he saw it. Resting alone, separate from all of the common gold pieces of old jewelry. He had to get it for Cordelia. It was her, unique, delicate, beautiful and strong. Angel had bought it immediately, not once grimacing about the price. He had hidden it waiting for Cordelia’s birthday. He had taken it out a couple of times, just to ponder it. Angel wouldn't touch the small package. He didn’t want to ruin the tight curly ribbons that surrounded it. It had taken hours and numerous torn ribbons to get the curly ends just right. But he would look, wonder, and doubt. Because like all of his thoughts and feelings about his beautiful seer; he was never sure if they were right or reciprocated.
What if she hated it, what if she got the wrong idea, he would worry. Would she think he was being egotistical, presumptuous in giving her a pendant of an angel? Would Cordelia think that somehow he was claiming her as his? Angel glanced at the pictures he had drawn. She would have been right, he finally admitted. But would Cordelia have accepted it? But, Angel hadn’t given it to her, not because he was too scared or nervous about her reaction, but because he simply forgot. Actually, not simply, he thought picking up one of the pictures. Angel forgot, because of these and the dreams that had produced them.
Angel traced the lines of the drawing. It was of Cordelia, alone. Her body gloriously nude spread out on his bed. Her limbs tied to the posts. Her beautiful face, glowing in ecstasy. This hadn’t been the first dream, but the first one that had simultaneously given him hope and despair. The sketch was erotically lovely. Cordelia was beautiful and the dream had been……so loving, so trusting, so passionate.
Angel picked up another sketch. Cordelia, nude. Lying out on her desk, her thick gorgeous hair falling off the sides, her arms reaching out for him, her face full of promised love and passion. Angel wasn’t in the picture; he wasn’t in any of them. That wasn’t what he wanted to remember or to capture on paper. This was what he wanted. He gently brushed his fingers over Cordelia’s drawn body. This was the first dream. It had started out exactly how Cordelia described in her writings. She had been sitting at her desk. He had come in, from what? Who knew that wasn’t important.
But Angel had wanted to give her the gift, the necklace had been in the pocket of his coat, he knew that then. But instead, Angel touched her. And then he was touching all over her, the pads of his fingers reading her skin, learning her flesh as if he was blind. Angel explored, taste and teased. He had to have her. Thoughts of the necklace, her birthday flew out of his mind. He had been compelled to learn her body, to bring it to exquisite pleasure. Angel had felt his demon’s lust and pleas to be allowed to possess Cordelia completely. Then Angel woke up appalled at his dream.
Cordelia was his friend, his best friend, and not some woman that he could take out his needs on. But regardless, of those feelings, Angel had felt a need to capture the moment of her completion on paper. So he drew. Then hid the drawing. And went down to face Cordelia, blocking out the dream and the call of her scent to his loins and to his demon.
As the dream filled nights went by, Angel became less appalled as hopeful. Hopeful, because of Cordelia. In every dream, she had given him more of herself, more of her trust, more of her love. And Angel relished every moment of those dreams. He would lie in bed, praying that the night before hadn’t been the last. Because, he had realized that he loved her, Cordelia Chase, his seer, his best friend and, the way too young, innocent human.
Angel looked again at the picture of her tied to the bed. It had been after that dream, that he had came to that particular epiphany. It hadn’t been completely joyful though; it had been full of doubts. Angel had been close to biting her in that dream, to ruining everything, just proving horribly why he could never love Cordelia in other manner than just in his dreams.
It wasn’t Angelus he was fearful of. That evil part of him was gone. Angelus had left after the Darla…..Angel didn’t even know what to call it anymore. To call it lovemaking mocked his feeling and need for Cordelia, hell even calling it sex was giving it to much credit. It was just a mistake, not one he was proud of or rewarded for. But he had been rewarded afterwards for his resulting epiphany. Though, Angel thought it was less of a reward from the Powers than an insurance policy that he would never be able to attempt to do something so stupid again. Angel hadn’t told Cordelia or Wesley.
It had been hard enough winning their trust again; he wasn’t about to tell them about his soul permanency and the reason behind it. Wesley may have understood and Cordelia actually probably would have too, eventually, after she cut him completely from her life, either by leaving him or staking him. Angel hadn’t been real eager for either option. So, he hadn’t told them. And now it seemed too awkward and too late.
No, it wasn’t Angelus that he was fearful of, but his demon. It was still there. He would never let it touch Cordelia, but he wasn’t sure that he could stop it, if the wondrous dreams ever became a reality. Cordelia brought it too close to the surface. The need to protect her was so ingrained in Angel, that his demon was inflamed whenever she was threatened. And his love and desire for his young seer, only brought out another violent reaction from his demon. His demon wanted to posses her, to own her, to taste her blood, to have all of her. And unlike with the need to protect Cordelia, Angel couldn’t accept his demon’s reactions in his love for her. It was too monstrous, too much of the animal, too much to expect Cordelia to understand or accept.
Angel’s hand swept over all of the drawings on the floor. They were all pictures of Cordelia, nude, alone and in some stage of fulfillment. Each expressing desire, need for……him. Angel picked up the last drawing he did the one that had cemented his doubts and made him glad that he never told Cordelia about his feelings. Again, it was Cordelia her lips bruised and swollen, her hair wild on the pillow. Her face was glorious; it made him hard just remembering the dream. His fingers touched the charcoal lines that composed her beautiful, firm and giving breast, gashed with two deep wounds. Blood trickling across the surface, marring her perfect skin. And this time she wasn’t alone, Angel had drawn himself in the picture. Not as a man, but a demon.
Angel tossed the picture aside and pressed his back against the wall. What was he going to do? What Angel should do his forget about his feelings, bury them deep inside, not ever allowing his demon close too Cordelia. But Angel wasn’t sure that was possible. Not if she stayed. So, he could make her leave, Cordelia seemed willing to try that route, she did go out looking for a man, any live man that would counter the dreams effects.
A deep growl vibrated in his chest. Angel might have doubt’s about the possibly of him controlling his demon, but he knew that it wasn’t possible for him to let her leave him. And he sure wouldn’t allow her to touch another man. Not when Angel dreamed her face as he entered into her warmth, not when he watched her face explode in joy and pleasure at his bite. Not when Angel saw her beet red face as she nervously tried to get him out of her apartment, not when he saw her shock and want when he touched her face and wished her sweet dreams. He had done that on purpose. Angel might have his soul, but he wasn’t a saint. Just not evil. He wanted to throw Cordelia off balance. Angel wanted to ensure that she dreamed of him that night.
And Angel couldn’t even blame his demon for that action or for the choice he was about to make. In fact it was his demon presence that was urging against the choice, well that’s not true, his demon wanted Cordelia as much as he did. But it was the demon’s lust and need that rang warning bells in Angel’s mind. The warnings he should listen too, if he was going to do the right thing. Angel caressed at Cordelia’s face. But, he couldn’t, because the dreams that triggered those warnings; also gave him hope of the impossible.
Angel began to wonder if the bells and whistles were less of a warning than a sign of his own insecurity and fear that Cordelia could never completely return his love and all it truly entailed. And if that was true, demon or not, he would let her go. But, he wasn’t going to give up until Cordelia rejected him totally and completely, right or wrong his decision was made. And Cordelia hadn’t rejected him so far, at least not in the dreams they shared.
“Dreams,” he said out loud. Angel got up and ran downstairs. He searched the books until he found the one that Wesley had been reading earlier.
‘The Spells and Life of Morpheus’., Angel clutched at the book as he picked up the phone.
“Wesley,” he said as soon as the other man answered.
“Angel?” Wesley said in concern.
“The book, the Morpheus book, what did you find out?”
“Angel,” The worry gone, now just irritation filled his tired voice.
“The book, when did you get it?” Angel demanded.
Angel heard the deep sigh and Wesley’s movement from the phone.
“Don’t hang up, this is important,” Angel yelled.
“Why?”
“Wesley,”
“Three weeks ago. Damn, “ Wesley shouted remembering. “I went to the pier to get Cordelia a birthday present. I got the book instead. Oh bloody hell,” The former watcher cursed uncharacteristically. “I forgot her birthday, hey you did too, so did Gunn.”
Angel could hear the sigh of relief over the phone. Angel imagined that Wesley was happy that he wouldn’t be the only one on Cordelia’s hit list.
Angel wasn’t about to let his friend off the hook, not when he suffered pains of fear at the same realization. Like he admitted, Angel wasn’t a saint. “Yeah, I didn’t want to mention it, but you did. I got her a gift. Wes are you still there?” Angel said in response to the silence on the other end of the phone.
“Angel,” Wesley finally said in a small voice. “You didn’t by chance put my name also on the birthday card that accompanied the gift, did you?” He said with hope.
“Nope. Was I supposed to? You have to remind me of the proper etiquette of these things,” the vampire said innocently.
Angel pulled the phone away as Wesley let off a string of ungentlemanly, unbritish- like curses.
“Wes, I think you have been hanging out with Gunn too long, your proper English stiffer lip is wilting,” Angel chided. Angel held the phone out again. He sighed, fun was fun, but he needed some answers.
“Wes, cut the street lingo, it sounds stupid on you. Now, I need to know what was in the book?”
Angel looked at the phone. Wesley had growled. The former watcher was obviously hanging around both he and Gunn too much.
“The text is a chronology of the life of Morpheus.” Wesley finally answered.
“The dream god.”
“Yes, one of the sons of the Greek sleep god Hypnos.”
“As in the demon.”
“No, that was hupnos, close but not the same which was why I got side tracked, just an amazing coincidence. Really, they do happen. The demon is totally separate. Anyway, the Greek Mythology is well just a myth.”
“What else?”
“About the demon or Morpheus,”
“Wes, the dream god,” Angel demanded.
“Angel, what’s going on?”
“That’s not important right now,” Angel lied. “Just tell me.”
“Well, the book chronicled Morpheus ‘life’. He was the son that sent human shapes to a dreamer. There were two other brothers that……..”
“Stick to Morpheus,” Angel interrupted impatiently.
“Fine, like I already said the book told of his ‘life’ then it had some ‘spells’.
“Spells, what kind of spells?”
“There are many. The first one that I translated dealt with lovers. Actually, quite interesting. Morpheus had this spell that allowed soul mates to traverse in each other dreams. Not surprising really. After all the ancients needed something to explain how lovers seemed to be able to experience the same dreams. Which of course aren’t the ‘same’ dreams just wishes and desires that two people who love each other would have. The more two people are connected and share a life, the more likely it is that they would dream about the same things. The spell was just a way of explaining it.”
“You translated this spell,” Angel said quietly.
“Yes, it was quite easy, though some of the pronunciation was a bit difficult. Ancient Greek isn’t the same Greek that is spoken now. Similar, but there are certain different nuances.”
“You did the incantation?”
“Angel, it wasn’t a real spell, it was just a myth. Well written and quite pretty, but just a myth.”
“You did this three weeks ago?”
“I guess, it was the first thing I translated. I’m working on a nightmare spell now, quite scary,”
“Stop.”
“Angel.”
“Wesley, you will not touch that book again. All right, not until we all discuss it and decide, got it. Otherwise, I’m tossing it into the incinerator now.”
“Angel, it’s a…….”
“A real handbook of spells, with real power. And you unwittingly let out a doozy…….”
“Oh dear,” Wesley coughed.
“It’s okay, I can fix it. And by the way, thanks.”
“Right, okay,” Wesley stared at the phone. He couldn’t tell if Angel was thanking him for the information or the spell. But why would Angel thank him for the spell. Wesley didn’t understand. He started as a hand swung out and hit him across the chest. Wesley grumbled and pushed the hand back. “Why didn’t you remind me about Cordelia’s birthday. I told you to remind me.”
“Oh shit,” the sleepy voice responded.
“Exactly.” Wesley pulled the arm back over his chest.