Title: In the Dark
Author: Nickle
Posted:
Rating: R/N-17
Email
Category: Smutty angst, or angsty smut.
Content: C/A
Summary: Set during Angel's beige period. Kind of AU take up to Epiphany.
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: just ask
Notes: my first ever on the planet earth C/A story. Be gentle with me.
Thanks/Dedication:
Feedback: is yummy and delicious.
Chapter 1
Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Cordelia sighed, blowing hair out of her face as she looked at the crumpled up paper in her hand once more. She tried to make out Wesley's handwriting by the dim light of the desk lamp. "Beterhon…no Peterson's book….." Jeeze. She knew if a handwriting expert got a look at this chickenscratch, Wesley'd be pegged for a serial killer. She held up the penlight and moved its beam slowly over the dusty leatherbound spines lined up neatly along the wall. Wesley had been uneasy about Cordelia retrieving the book from the Hyperion, but he was still weak and wheelchair bound, and Gunn didn't know the books as well as Cordy did. She figured it'd be a piece of cake to blow in, grab the book and blow out, all without ever seeing His Assholiness.
Cordy sighed and pressed her forehead to the cool leather of the books, closing her eyes. God, how had this happened? How had they all come so low? She hated feeling like this, all helpless and unsure. Angel investigations was up and running, but it wasn't the same. There wasn't enough tequila in the world to numb her mind to the truth; they had lost their fiercest Warrior. They were fighting a battle they couldn't hope to win. She sighed, and opened her eyes, spotting the book she was looking for. One of the few they hadn't carted out when they left. She grabbed it and turned to walk out of the office and shrieked, seeing the hulking shadow leaning casually against the doorframe. His face was hidden in the dark, but Cordy didn't want to see it; didn't want to see that controlled, uncaring expression she knew was there. She turned off the pen light and pocketed it.
"Damn, Angel. Lurk much?" Cordy took in a deep breath, hoping the thunder of her heart wasn't as loud as she thought it was.
"Looking for something…oh….I see you found it." Angel's voice was casual; he may have been asking about the weather. He could see her perfectly in the soft glow of the lamp. Her eyes were wide and determined, but he could see the shadow of fear in the depths. He wallowed in that fear; it kept her at bay. He breathed in once, shallowly, taking in her antagonism….her fear…..her anger…...and the faint musk of arousal.
Cordy held the book protectively to her chest. "Yeah, I did." She took one step towards the door and stopped; he didn't move. "Wesley needed this book for a case."
Angel watched her, looking almost bored. "That's mine."
Cordy clutched the book tighter. "No. It was ours. There never was a "yours." Wes built up this collection. It's ours." He remained still, his eyes flashing a brief molten gold. She looked up at him. "Move."
He straightened up, seeming to gain bulk as he did. Her eyes grew even wider and she wanted to step back. Stupid vampire. He held still, looking down at her, then stepped aside enough for her to squeeze by, brushing against him as she pushed past. She felt a shimmer of heat slide through her body as it touched his. She hurried to the front door, pausing to turn to face him.
"Hey, did what you suggested. Looked up vampire. I think the exact phrase was 'predatory bloodsucking evil demon.' Wow, they got that right. Except for the part where they left out 'worthless' 'cowardly' and 'quitter'….." she ended in a yelp as she was grabbed suddenly and pushed roughly against the wall by the door. She caught her breath, looking up at the vampire in question, towering over her, holding her body prisoner to his.
The book in her hand dropped to the floor with a solid thud and she pushed against his chest. He lowered his face, intent and dark, to hers.
"You never know when to shut the fuck up, do you, Cordy?" She wriggled, trying to get her knee bent so she could teach Mr. Happy a little lesson about pain. Angel maneuvered his leg between hers, pressing his leg up so she had to rise onto her toes. His hands grabbed at her wrists and he slammed them back against the wall on either side of her head.
"I only let my friends call me Cordy, Dorkula, get off me." Cordy tried to keep her voice even, feeling his body pressed to hers from her chest down. She danced slightly on her toes, trying to keep from riding his thigh as it pressed between her legs.
"Mmmmm…and we're not friends?" Angel breathed into her ear.
Cordy shivered at the dark intent in his voice. "GET OFF!"
He held perfectly still for a moment; all her jumbled emotions feeding him almost as well as a fresh kill. He pressed his forehead to the wall beside her head, and whispered into her ear, all menace and silky heat, "Get your book. Get out. Don't come back." He straightened and looked down into her eyes, wide and cloudy with fear, and with want. His hands let go of her wrists and he stepped back, giving her an expectant stare. Cordy stared back, the want in her eyes slowly replaced with hate. She kneeled and scooped up the book and turned to the door, pulling at the handle. She opened the door and paused as he spoke.
"And Cordy…" She held still, her back to him, the door open. "Don't come back. I find you here again, you come here for anything else…." She felt her back go rigid. "I catch you here, for any reason……I'm going to give you just the fucking you're wanting." Cordy held, gripped in shock, then ran out the front door, not caring that it wasn't the most dignified exit she ever made.
Angel remained there a good 10 minutes, letting her scent fill him as he thought of the inevitable that would happen, and let his body tighten at the thought.
Chapter 2
She tried. Cordy really tried. She tried closing her eyes, breathing in and out deeply, imagining their office an older, shabby chic version of some '40's Dashell Hammett throwback, all sleek lines and horizontal shadows of blinds lining one wall. She'd be Doll-Face, the intrepid and leggy secretary. She tried to envision it, she really did. But when she opened her eyes, shabby chic just became shabby crap.
The paneling on the walls, cheap to begin with when it was new back in the stone age, was chipped and splintered in several places. The furniture was a mishmash of dented metal chairs and desks. The one upholstered chair had a spring poking out of the seat cushion. And the smell….oh God, the smell. It was that "eau de used gym socks" scent so often found in old moldy buildings. Cordy looked up at the front door and smiled slightly, seeing the backward white lettering that spelled Angel Investigations to the outside world. It was dank and stinky and crappy, but it was theirs. A little paint…a dehumidifier….some judiciously placed duct tape, and…it would still be dank and stinky and crappy. She sighed. Maybe in a year or so…after they had built up a good client base and had racked up some cash, they could move. Maybe.
It was dark outside and she leaned back in her chair, staring out into the night visible through the glass of the front door. Three days ago, her world had tilted when the King of Brood calmly threatened to set sheets on fire with her. No, she told herself….it wasn't really a threat. He had sounded…absolute. Almost as if he expected her to….well, she didn't know what. Throw down and drop trow? Scream? Slap him? She had no idea what he thought he was saying. Because Cordy had never wanted….ok, she had thought about it, in her more kamikaze influenced moments, but she had never imagined it to be a certainty, or even a possibility. And she had never, ever, thought that Angel's soul would be so empty. Ever. She had never thought it at all. And now, because Angel was getting in touch with his inner asshole, it was all she had thought about for three solid days.
The phone rang and she leaned over to pick it up. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless." Silence. "Hello?" Frowning, she hung the phone up. Usually, wrong numbers didn't bother her, but here, alone in office after dark, little frissions of worry ran up her spine. The phone rang again and she stared at it a moment before picking it up.
"Hello?"
"Cordelia." There was a wealth of disapproval in Wesley's voice. "I applaud your commitment, Cordy, but it's past six."
Cordy grinned to herself. Ah, here was the light. "Just wanted to wrap up the Connard file, Wes. I'm going to deposit the check on my way home. I was just…." She rose and stretched, reaching for her purse and stuffing the check into a side pocket " getting ready to go. Really, out the door here. Stop being such a guy."
"Do you want me to send Gunn to see you home?"
"Nope. I'm armed and dangerous, Wes. Got my mace. Got my whistle. And hey, I have it on good authority that I never shut up so I could just annoy someone to death." The last came out in a bitter breath she didn't even realize she had been holding. There was a startled silence on the other end of the phone.
"Cordelia, you've never….I mean, your natural bubbly personality…"
"Wes, it's ok. Just having a pity party here, need to back off." She smiled slightly. "I'm good. Now, let me go here and I'll see you tomorrow." After hanging up, she turned off the last light and walked to the door, leaving and shutting it behind her as she turned to lock it. She felt a cool whoosh of air and turned, startled, to run into a solid chest wrapped in black. She squealed, leaping back, and dropped her bag, spilling stuff everywhere. She slammed back against the wall and raised wide eyes to the Vampire who watched her with a cool detachment.
"Cordy."
"Dumbass."
Angel smiled slightly and leaned in to whisper, "That's right, Cordy. Go down fighting."
Cordy pushed him away and knelt to gather up the spilled contents of her bag. "What the hell do you want, Angel?"
He leaned against the wall, hands in pockets, watching her. "Trowhurst's Demonology. That one is mine. I want it back."
Cordelia fingered her keys for a silent moment, then rose and unlocked the door to the office. Swinging the door open, she stood aside, a small grin tilting her lips. Angel smirked at her and walked to the door, moving to enter. He bounced back, unable to enter, and tried again, sighing and shaking his head. "An uninvite, Cordy? That'll cost ya."
Cordelia reached past him to pull the door shut again and quickly locked it, stuffing her keys in her bag and walking down the sidewalk, flipping a little wave at him as she went without a word. He watched her, not moving for the longest time, finally fading into the darkness as he planned his next move.
The next morning, Cordelia trotted down the sidewalk, jostling the carry tray holding three coffees as she juggled her bag looking for her keys. Finding them, she unlocked the door and swung into the office, stopping short as she looked at the bare bookshelves lining the back wall. Not a book remained. Her mouth fell open as she looked all around the office. Nothing else was disturbed; her desk was exactly as she left it. The same spring poked out of the same chair in the exact same spot, the memo pad still rested square in the middle of Wes' desk. But every book in the archive was gone. She moved to her desk and plopped down in her chair, total disbelief on her face. She put the coffee carrier on her desk and noticed a small white card, one of their old business cards. She turned it over. On the back, in a sure hand, was written "Come and get 'em."
Chapter 3
"Come and get 'em." Cordelia stared at the card in shock, then up at the empty shelves. How the hell had he done that? She had Minerva from down the street pull an uninvite spell over the office; no way had he broken that. How had he gotten in? Her heart raced as she tried to think what to do. He had the books. And that note was meant for her. And the last time she was there, he said…
The phone rang, startling her. She reached over and picked it up, still a little dazed. "Hello?"
"Cordy, it's me."
Cordy panicked. "Mmmm…hey Wes. How's the gut?" She closed her eyes and winced.
"Well, actually, I'm feeling a little peaked today. I think I may just have a lie-in, if you think you can cover the office yourself."
Cordelia waved a hand in the air, thinking fast. "No, I think that's a good idea. Rest. Rest is what you need, and plenty of it. You just…lie-in." She paused. "Unless that's like some British thing for not going to work so you can stay home and boink."
There was a silence. "I'm going to ignore that, Cordelia. Call me if anything comes up. And don't stay late. Go home, relax."
Cordy smiled sadly as he spoke. "Yeah, that's the ticket. Rest, Wesley. I want you better."
Silence. "Because you need me there?"
"No, Fauntleroy. Because I'm tired of you hurting, and I'd rather have you happy."
"Well, then, I'll get to it." Cordy could hear the smile in his voice. "Call…"
"…if anything comes up. Yeah, got it. Go rest." And smiling, Cordy hung up, only to feel the smile drain from her face as she looked up at the shelves. The empty, mocking shelves. Dammit.
The door opened and Gunn came strolling in, leafing through the mail. "Yo, Barbie. Where's….." his voice trailed off as he looked up at the shelves. "Shit. Where's the books?"
"Mmmmm….uhhhh….." Cordy drew a blank. She finally worked up a cheery smile and chirped. "Reorganizing. I'm reorganizing. I packed them in the….back…..and….I'm going to dust the shelves because, you know…" she waved a hand in the air "dust. Lots of dust. I'm just going to do some cleaning because….well….Wesley!"
Gunn looked at her as if she had spoken in another language. "OK. I got the cleaning part. What about Wesley?"
"He just called. He feels pretty crappy so he's staying home. Told him I could handle it here, but you know…it's kind of slow. Thinking I'd clean a little…."
"Great. I'll help."
"NO! I mean…this is boring, and dirty, and…." Her mind raced "I'm all BLOATY and cranky because, you know, PMS.."
Gunn threw up his hands and backed slowly away. "Hey, I'll leave you to it. I have some things…oh…somewhere…I need to …call if you need help." And he was gone. Cordelia shook her head. There was no uninvite spell that worked better on the average Joe than the threat of dealing with PMS.
Slumping back in her chair, she tried to come up with a plan. And realized that short of hauling Gunn and rolling Wesley over to the Hyperion, there was no plan except for her to go alone. If she took Gunn, there might be blood spilled, and it would be Gunn's. She had no faith in Angel's sense of right and wrong anymore. She thought for a moment, then stood up, reaching for what she thought she might need.
GAP HERE
An hour later, she stood across the street from the Hyperion, letting traffic whiz by as she faced the once elegant building, a large tote bag slung over one shoulder. She had hopes, here. It was only 10:30 in the morning; with any luck, Angel would have gone to bed and not be expecting her this early. She could cruise in, find the books, load some….a few…..
She sighed. She was so screwed. In more ways than one. She took a deep breath and crossed the street, her heels tapping on the pavement as she walked. She could have gone with the docs, but noooooo……Barbie had to have her stilts today. Cordy pushed the front door open quietly and leaned down to pull her shoes gently off, setting them aside. Silence hung like a pall over the lobby. She straightened up and entered, letting the door fall shut behind her. She looked down into the lobby and let out a huge sigh. Stacked neatly in the middle of the lobby was the old, musty library collection of Angel Investigations. Cordy trudged down the stairs, quietly circling the pile. No way was she gonna be able to haul these out alone. She raised her hands to run them through her hair, trying to think, when an arm, thick and strong and muscled, appeared from behind her and wrapped around her middle, yanking her back against a solid wall of chest.
Her heart beat a tattoo that could be heard out in the street. She reached to grasp the arm, anchored under her breasts, just as she felt a cool set of lips brush against her ear.
"Didn't I tell you what would happen if you came back here?"
Chapter 4
It was like embracing the sun. Angel pressed the warm flesh to his body, taut with need. For all his apparent languor, he felt tense and cold, like he was at a precipice staring down into a frozen, jagged chasm. He had wanted her. He had thought of nothing else since he had caught Cordy prowling around in his office. Her heat….her blood…..her beating, throbbing heart. He needed to crawl into her heat and drink at her light. He needed…...her. He needed her. His arm clamped around her slight frame, just under her breasts. He took in her scent, a heady mix of fear, and anger….and want. He could almost taste her want. He grinned to himself as he felt her struggle. God, this was going to be good.
Cordelia felt her body being lifted back against Angel, her legs flailing about as she clawed at the arm that gripped her midsection like a vise. She felt dwarfed by the bulk strength of his body, almost enveloping hers in power and size. Fear shot through her as she realized that this wasn't Angel…not the one she knew. And he wasn't Angelus, because Angelus would have strung this out far more…would have taunted and teased until she and Gunn and Wes were lathered into rabid fear. This was….somebody she didn't know. She didn't know what to do. And God…that made her so much more afraid.
Cool lips pressed to the skin of her ear. "Warm....so so warm." He murmured softly, his free hand running down her thigh, stroking it with a strange lack of gentleness. Almost as if it moved against his wishes. Cordy held still, trying to think. Her eyes closed as his lips trailed roughly down the side of her throat, and she felt a shudder work through her as he whispered, "Knew you'd come."
She kicked out suddenly and caught him off guard. Pushing away from him, she spun around and backed up, her eyes wide. He slowly stalked towards her, all lazy grace. She straightened up and stood firm, holding her hand up.
"STOP!" Angel stopped, his face impassive. Shocked that it worked, Cordelia worked her bag around slowly, off her shoulder. She wished that whoever was chattering like a hysterical monkey on steroids would just shut up; then she realized it was her.
"OK. We got a thing here. A wanna make with the happy thing. I mean, you know, a….feeling……" Angel rolled his neck and stepped forward. "WAIT!" he stopped again, looking almost bored. "I mean, I'm just wondering….ohogod….mmm….why don't we just….." she slowly fumbled around in her bag and felt excitement shoot through her as she found the gun and snapped it out, gripping it with both hands and pointing it squarely at his chest.
Angel held stock-still, looking at the small compact gun, then up at her face. Gold flashed around the rims the chocolate of his eyes and his voice was darkly amused. He felt a lick of heat at his soul. Good for her. Fighting till the fucking end. "A gun? I'm all offended. Except for the part where I'm….disappointed." The last part was spoken in a low growl. Cordelia shook her head; he seemed to be almost on remote control.
"Stay back. You won't like this."
He stood still but leaned in a little and whispered, "Vampire, Cordy."
She let a small smirk lift her lips. "Bitch with a gun, Angel" and she fired, point-blank at his chest. He was a blur as he stepped aside in time to hear a small whistle streak past his shoulder. He looked at Cordy, who stood still with shock, the gun still pointed. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw the small feathered dart embedded in the wall across the lobby. He sighed and looked back as she slowly lowered her hands, the gun dangling loosely from lifeless fingers.
"Mmmm. You missed."
Oh God. Shit. Shit. Her mind raced frantically. The door. Get to the door. She pasted a huge, cherry smile on her face as she inched back slightly. "Wow. Boy. Is my face red or what?"
Angel stood watching her, rigid and still. She heard a thundering, a roaring, and realized it was her heart, pounding a rushing tattoo. His eyes flared gold again, and she knew he heard it, too.
And he did. He heard her heart thumping, pumping all that sweet honeyed blood through her body. He heard her soft panting. He felt her fear. And he inhaled a scent….musk and spice and wet and hot. He watched her, his eyes intent, as she inched her way to the door. They stared at each other for what seemed like eons. Suddenly, she spun around and dropped the gun, raced to the door, leaped up the steps and grabbed at the handle, forgetting completely about her shoes. She breathed in the rush of air as she pulled the door open two inches before a large hand reached over her shoulder and slapped the door closed in her face while his other hand yanked her bag off her shoulder.
She ducked under his arm and backed away from him….slowly down the steps into the lobby. She tried to hold his gaze and look for escape at the same time.
"Angel. Please. You've been….well….upset…." And amazingly, anger began to flood through her. "Actually, I don't know what the hell you've been, do I? You shut down. You went on some kind of e-ticket ride to hell and decided you didn't need that pesky friend baggage weighing you down." She stopped backing up, staring up at him. "God, Angel. Where are you?"
"Right here." Damn. Didn't she know? If she only stayed frightened, he may have given up. He didn't want frightened. Well, yeah, he did, but not frightened to the hilt. A scared little rabbit, he could shove her off and sink further into the dark. Alone and cold. But to stand there, and work that mouth, and let her anger show…..it was a done deal. She wore battle like other women wore perfume, and it swamped him.
She charged on, oblivious. "We tried…and you shut us out. You fired us. You try to erase what we all were together. You go off on this solo hell trip. You steal our books…." She blinked a moment. "How did you get our books? Don't even try to tell me it was a weak spell."
"I have friends in low places."
"Well, yeah, I buy the low places part. The friends part is bogus." They stared at each other for a moment. Cordy sighed, feeling sad and defeated. "Angel, we can't. You have to let us back in before you and I could ever….." She bit her lip. Damn. When had she ever wanted him more than right now? Now, when she was trapped, and he was clever, and he wanted her, and he was so, so empty. God, Cordy. You can pick 'em. "Listen. You need…something. I get that. I want to be there, Angel, I want to be your friend. But this…" she waved a hand "this…this us. We shouldn't. Not like this."
"Yeah." He seemed to shudder a bit then he stepped back. His head hung down and he seemed to be staring at the floor. "We shouldn't." Her heart gave a funny twinge. She shifted, feeling the wet heat between her legs. He lifted his gaze to hers and her breath caught in her throat. His gaze was molten and feral. "We shouldn't. But we're going to." He crossed down the steps and bent, not slowing as he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, clamping an arm around her legs to anchor her to him as he began climbing the stairs with a slow, measured tread.
There was finality in every step. Cordy tried to wriggle off his shoulder, but his free hand casually reached up and swatted at the curve of her ass. She shrieked angrily and smacked at his butt as he walked.
"Cordy, Cordy…so quick with the foreplay." His voice was casual but she could hear the underlying steel in his voice. He climbed the stairs and stalked down the carpeted hall, his footsteps solid muffled thuds.
"Put me down, you asshole. You prick. You fucking stupid.....dumb…." Her voice echoed down the hallway. He listened with detachment as he walked and finally raised a hand and swatted her ass again, harder this time.
Seething, she stopped hitting at him and shut up. She was livid. Angry because she wasn't prepared for this. Angry because she felt helpless. And jeeze. Angry because her body was at a fevered pitch, and she had never felt so needy in her life.
She started as Angel kicked the door to his suite open and crossed to the bed. The room spun around her as he threw her off his shoulder and she bounced on her back on the bed. She tried to scoot over to the other side but he reached down and grabbed at her ankle, hauling her back to the center of the bed. She kicked out at him and he grinned slightly, reaching to unfasten his belt and slip it out of his pants. She stilled in a panic, and the air became thick with tension.
"No…" her voice was a begging whisper. Angel ignored it and looped one end of the belt around the bedpost, tying the other end around her ankle. He straightened up and watched her frantically claw at it, trying to untie the knot, as he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. She stopped, her lips parted and shallow pants puffing out as her wide eyes took in the muscled planes of his chest. She stared, almost in a trance, as his hands reached to unfasten and unzip his jeans, kicking his shoes off before tugging the denim down over his hips and down his legs.
Cordelia felt her mouth go dry. Well, that answered the boxers versus briefs question. She lost either way, since "commando" hadn't been one of the choices. The jeans were kicked off and he climbed over her, stalking her as she scooted back on the bed. She raised her eyes to meet his, trying to hold his gaze so she wouldn't look down….down below his waist.
His hands reached for her top and he tried to raise it over her head, but she kept her arms clamped to her sides. He grinned at her and shrugged slightly before reaching for the crew neck and tugging at it with both hands, ripping it down the middle. He paused, pulling the tattered shirt aside. He straddled her hips, staring down at the mounds of flesh that spilled from the thin, sheer bra. In the shadowed valley between her breasts, indiscernible to human eye, was the small, steady twitch of skin with each pump of her heart. It was her siren song to him, and he was entranced. Her hands had gripped at his forearms as he ripped at her shirt, and he felt them flex as he leaned down and licked at that spot.
He licked at the skin, and inhaled her musk, and his hands reached to cup her breasts, plumping them as he pushed them together. Cordelia lay still, looking up at him, her eyes wide….and….heated. He was grimly amused at the anger he could see, burning in the hazel depths. He scooted down her legs a bit and unsnapped the waist of her cropped pants. He scooted further down to her feet, and yanked at the belt, breaking the knot. Her hands shot down and grabbed at the waistband of her loosened slacks and held on with a grip of iron. He tugged half-heartedly at the cuffs before whispering, "Let go. Now."
Cordelia drew in breath shallowly, knowing what he wanted, and what it meant. Watching him, she slowly shook her head. She lay there, hands clutching at the gaping waistband of the cotton capris, the ripped edges of her top splayed open. He grinned up at her, dark and wicked, and suddenly leapt up to nip at the tip of her breast through her bra. Cordelia shrieked and her hands batted at his head, shoving him away. Quick as a flash, he leaned back down and yanked her slacks down her body and off.
His eyes seemed to darken as a satisfied rumble shivered up his spine. He held her gaze steady as he reached for the silken panties that rode low on her hips, trailing his fingers over the damp fabric that covered dark, dewy curls. She tensed as she felt little flicks of sharp need shoot through her body at the touch. He leaned in and pressed his face to the silk, taking in her scent like a man desperate for oxygen. His lips pressed to her briefly before rising over her. He braced himself over her and looked down into her eyes.
"Give it to me, Cordy. C'mon." He leaned in and whispered in her ear "Aren't you tired of having all the heat? Don't you wanna share?" Her head shook slightly, her eyes closed. He laughed against her, a low rumble. "Sure you do. You want to take my empty soul and fill it up….you want all my cold and ice, and you want to melt it. You want to save me. C'mon, Cordy…." He didn't realize how desperate he was becoming….how his voice had started begging. "C'mon, save me."
She felt a tear slide down her cheek as she looked into his blank eyes. "God. Angel. Don't do this. I don't want this….not…..not without you. The you I know. Please…"
He blinked. "Oh, I fucking think you do want this. I can smell it on you. God, Cordy, it's ambrosia." One hand trailed down to the juncture of her thighs and he laughed softly as she clamped her thighs together. "Coorrrrdddyyyy….let me in…." His fingers tugged at the elastic of her panties. She held her body rigid and he sighed, rising so he straddled her thighs. She finally looked down and her mouth opened to a small O as she saw the thick muscle jutting out from the dark nest of hair between his legs. Ohgod….and she called him a eunuch? She looked up at him feeling ice creeping through her.
"Angel…." Her eyes raised to his. He stared back, impassively. His body loomed over her prone form, both bodies taut and still. "Angel…..you won't get warm. I'll just get cold. Like you. I can't…….not this way. I'll be empty. Like you. Is that what you want?" A bleak shadow crept into his eyes. "You're in a place….I can't find you. I can't reach you. You're taking me there, too. God, Angel, please don't."
He remained still, staring at a point deep in her soul for the longest time. Slowly, his head lowered and his eyes closed. A great tremor seemed to shimmy through his body. He climbed off of her, and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. She lay, flat on her back, one hand raising to cover her eyes as she took in gulping breaths, trying to stave off the sobs she felt gathering deep in her throat. After a bit, she slowly slid off the other side of the bed, reaching for her slacks and tugging them on. She looked down at the tatters of her top and shrugged it off, and looked around, grabbing at a black shirt of Angel's that had been worn and tossed over a chair. She yanked it on her body and walked to the door, fastening the shirt that hung off her small frame like a tent.
Her hand pushed at the door and she paused. Turning, she looked at him, still on the bed, head down. The air was filled with…..empty. Sad, cold empty. She took a quick breath to speak, then closed her mouth and walked out the door.
Angel sat, almost a statue in the room. He heard her footsteps down the hall…..down the stairs….across the lobby. A little rustling, small noises. Then the slam of the front door. He sucked in the loss. His heart, dead and useless, ached as if shards of glass had shattered it.
He couldn't be saved.
Chapter 5
Notes:
Okay….yes, for the sure-sighted…I have literally skipped right over the Darla incident. It still happened, I just saw no reason to recap. I always thought the conversation that followed Angel's proposal that he come to work for them would have been great to see, so here it is. Angel wants to come back. How did they agree to let him?
***
Who ever first coined the phrase "drowning their sorrows in a bottle" must have, at one time, worked for a Vampire with a soul, learning the paranormal investagory process. Then they must have been granted, against their will, some kind of visionary power that wracked them, body and soul, with hell-hot pain. Then, there was probably a completely predictable and pedestrian series of events: the usual ex-girlfriends stirring up trouble, the unstopped massacre of the entire upper staff of a large law firm, being fired, having a third eye impregnated in the back of your head….
Yeah, Cordelia thought, sprinkling salt on her damp fist, that guy must have had the same life as her. Because that's what she felt like. Shrinking and climbing into the lovely bottle of tequila and swimming with the worm before lapsing into salty oblivion. She raised her fist to her mouth and licked, following it with a shot of tequila and a quick suck of freshly sliced lemon. Wesley watched her out of the corner of his eye and leaned towards her. "Um…Cordelia." His voice was a low murmur. "Of course, it's your decision…." Cordelia snorted. "but perhaps you should…delay this form of relaxation until you're home."
Gunn slumped back in his seat across the table, loosely holding a chilled longneck. He took a long draw and set the bottle back on the table with a snap. "Wes is right. Let's deal on this and move on to the serious mind-numbing." Cordelia sighed and wiped her fist off, letting the tequila burn down her throat. "Angel wants to regroup."
"Angel wants to come work for US." Wesley corrected, still sounding shocked. "If I'm reading him right, he wants to….attone…..for his lapse." He fell silent and they all thought about the events of the last two days. Angel's 11th hour rescue of them from the Skilosh. Cordy having that freakin' third eye in her head. They had stumbled back to their homes and slept, rising this morning feeling, for once, as if they had a chance at this battle. No one had said it out loud, but that was it. Angel wanted to be back. He was sorry. He wanted to move on. With Wesley, and Gunn. And with Cordelia.
After Angel had shown up earlier in their office and made jaws drop with his proposal, Wesley had politely shooed him out, telling him that Angel Investigations would discuss it and get back to him. Gunn and been tense with anticipation; he was clearly torn between being pissed and being excited. Only Cordelia had remained silent and still. Wesley had suggested that they have a drink together at Caritas and talk it over, the three of them. And now here they were.
Gunn looked at Wesley. "He tell you what caused this….epiphany…he kept going on about?
"No. I gather it involved Darla." Cordelia stiffened slightly; no one noticed. "Unless I misunderstood, I believe he said Darla stabbed him with a sword. Perhaps that was it."
Gunn's eyes widened. "Wow. The man has a jones for the killers. Or the wack jobs."
Cordelia wondered which category she fit into . She hadn't said a word about her walk on the dark side to either Gunn or Wesley. For all she knew, they would streak straight over to the Hyperion and confront Angel and she had no clue how that would play out. She had gone home that day, spent all afternoon crying, and had finally gathered herself by nightfall enough to go back to the office, trying to think of a way to explain the book loss to Wesley.
When she had opened the door, the familiar smell of old leather had greeted her before she saw the books, all neatly lined back up on the shelves. She had stood in the doorway, speechless and tired and pained. She had walked to her desk and sat behind it, staring into the moon-lit darkness before looking down and seeing the flash of white on her desk. Picking it up, she turned on her desk lamp and saw the swoosh of the angel on the front of the card. She turned it over. The other side was blank and unmarked. As blank as she felt at that moment. Then the phone rang. And her simple little side trip to get their fee from the Sharps had turned into a freakin' all expense paid trip to hell.
And then he was there, in his dark, dorky car, grinning like a little boy hoping mom would buy his suckup and let him out of timeout. Like he hadn't set her up to be….she closed her eyes. Don't go there. Don't go there. She stood up, agitated, and announced, "gotta go…." She gestured towards the girl's room and took off. The club was packed tonight, and she wandered through various couples and groups before getting near the women's restroom door.
"Hey, muffin" Cordelia turned to look at Lorne and held his gaze for a moment before humming the first few bars of Mary Had a Little Lamb. Lorne's eyes widened and he straightened up, anger flashing through his expression. "Okiedokie. I can see you're busy." Cordelia stared at him blankly and wandered into the bathroom, closing the door.
Lorne stared at the closed door a moment before working his way back to a secluded table back in a corner, standing casually at the table before sitting. His voice was controlled as he looked over the crowd. "Yeah, snookums, got the rest of the story. Gotta tell ya, not so much into the reunion thing right now, but that's just the part of me talkin' that doesn't really like it when Cordelia is nearly raped." His gaze settled on Angel, who sat slumped back in the shadowed corner, watching the AI gang at their table from a safe distance.
Angel's gaze didn't waver. "Yeah. You and me both." He sighed. "Ya know, I've been to hell, Lorne. THE hell. Hung out, got tortured beyond the telling. Bought the t-shirt and the friggin'souvenir photo. But that was a day at the beach compared to this. If I can't get them back….." He was silent for a long moment, watching Wesley and Gunn talk. "Wes I think I got, just because I think he wants to torture me. Gunn, I got, because he wants some brute strength standing beside him. Cordy…" His voice trailed off a bit. He honest to God didn't know what to say.
"Cordy says ok." Angel's head whipped around as Cordy spoke. She stood there, looking down at him, her face raised so that her chin pointed out at him. "What'd ya think, you'd come here and listen in?" He squirmed a bit. "That's gonna stop. Trust me, I have no problem sharing my feelings. You really just don't want to know about them right now. So quit with the vamp hearing. It's…." She met his eyes. "It's an intrusion."
She started to walk away then spun around and leaned over the table. "This is it. This is the do-over, and there won't be another. I don't know what the hell the last few months have been all about for you, but it was enough for us to know that we can't do this alone."
"Neither can I." His voice was quiet and low.
She blinked. "Yeah. Well. Anyway. Get this. We start from new. We go on. No one mentions…what happened. No one, got it?" She shot a look at Lorne. He nodded and sipped at his drink. "Wesley and Gunn already think I'm some kind of….girl. They don't need to know about the books….or…how they got back. Or what happened in between."
"Cordy…"
"Shut up. Don't want to hear it." And she turned and walked back to the table, plopping down in her chair, waving to Wesley and Gunn. "No, no, don't get up."
Wesley paused, his drink at his lips. He looked at Gunn, confused. "Um, we weren't." Cordelia snorted and motioned to their waiter for another shot and leaned forward.
"Here's the deal, guys of mine. First of all….we suck at this." Wesley slapped his drink down on the table with a disgruntled expression. Cordelia waved off his 'I beg your pardon' with a languid hand. "We do. Finding Aunt Bessie's long lost pearls, yeah, maybe we can solve the caper. But guys, c'mon. We need him. Second of all…the Hyperion. Nicer, better part of town….no gym socks smell." Wesley nodded, still looking put out. "Third….we get it. We get the mission. And if he wants to finally get back to his roots and be in on it, let's just….let him."
Wesley listened as she wound down and finally spoke. "I'm somewhat nonplussed at his sudden reversal of attitude. You know what really bothers me?"
"That you don't get why using "nonplussed" in normal conversation isn't a babe magnet?" Gunn laughed at Cordy's dry response.
"No, Cordelia. I want to know…." He played softly with the rim of his drink. "I want to know what happened to you." He raised gentle eyes to hers. "Something happened. You've been…shell-shocked. You tried to hide it, but…." He shrugged. "We know you."
Cordy took in a panicky breath, trying to think fast. "Nothing. Just the stuff, you know….oohhhh…give me that book, don't make me move you. Jeeze, Wesley, you were there….got a memory of pulled stitches?"
Wesely held her gaze for a moment and Cordelia got the feeling he could somehow see into her mind. "All right. I don't buy it, but….you'll tell me if you want to. I'm here."
Cordelia felt tears well up in her eyes. "And I said I had no friends…." She wiped her eyes quickly as the waiter sat another shot in front of her. Gunn made a suspicious sniffle and Cordy laughed a humorless laugh before loading up her fist with salt again. "Ok. Our Little Women moment is over. We're agreed. He's back. We're back." Wesley raised his glass and Gunn raised his beer. Cordy raised her shot and they clinked together before she licked at the salt and downed the shot. Raising the lemon wedge to her lips, she sucked, making a face as it burned down her throat.
"Well, I suppose all we need to do now is telephone Angel and tell him our decision." Wesley sounded relieved. "We accept his proposal, on our terms. He will, of course, need to work at rebuilding trust. No surprises."
Cordy waved a hand over her shoulder. "No need to call. He's back in the corner, watching us. Maybe listening." Gunn and Wesley craned their necks to peer into the corner before looking back at Cordelia.
Wesely leaned across the table and whispered, "How long has he been there?"
"Apparently all this time. Surprise." And Cordeila motioned for another shot.
Chapter 6