Go TeamC/A
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Title: In the Dark.
Author: Califi
Posted:
Rating: PG-16
Category: Pure pointless fluff.
Content: C/A
Summary: What is it with Cordelia and closets? Angel wants to find out.
Spoilers: S1 Pre:vision Cordy.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes: No real plot, and some would say what about Buffy love at that time? This is fun, guys! Buffy, shmuffy. Enjoy it for the fluff it is or move on, kay?
Thanks/Dedication:A ,b>Frazi challenge to me.
She wanted a closet moment between C/A in Season One, ATS, so that is what she gets :D Hope you enjoy it, Frazilicious, Mwah!
Feedback:
"I do not do closets," Cordelia scrunched up her nose and backed away rapidly. "This job is all yours, fangy." He raked a hand through his hair and sighed heavily; this girl would try the patience of a saint- something he was soooo far from it was on another planet.
"Cordelia... it is just a little dusting in a closet; we need somewhere for the office supplies"
"Angel...." she replied with a glint in her eye. "I answer the phone, I talk to the clients we don't actually have, and I make coffee you both refuse to drink," she replied in a put on world-weary voice. "But I don't. Do. Closets. Capiche?"
"What is it with you and closets?" he had to ask, didn't he? And then he was kinda glad he did.
Angel watched the slow tide of crimson creep up from her delectable neck until her cheeks shone like berries on a winters' day. He loved it on the few occasions he could get this kind of response out of her. Made him want to- No! bad thoughts!
"I just don't okay?" she snapped sharply and swiveled on her heel to put as much distance as she could between her and said closet. What was his problem lately? talk about crowding a girl, hmph. Either ordering her around or attempting to pop her personal bubble; she almost- almost preferred him all mopey puppy over his lost love to this- this new and rather disconcerting behaviour.
But Angel had the scent- The Scent. Of something worth hanging onto and eking every drop of it to it's limit. A small smile crept on his face as he followed her silently. "Why not?" he whispered in her ear. He loved sneaking up on her.
"Eek!" Cordelia nearly jumped outta her skin. Damned sneaky vampire, creeping up on poor defenseless secretaries. He should be staked. Right now in fact. He just stood there innocently, his big arms folded over his broad chest, a slight smile hovering on that firm, delicious mouth...
"Stop asking and go away- go do something... I dunno; vampy-like; but don't!" she retorted sharply, poking him in that broad chest. "Mention closets again, unless you wanna spend the rest of the day locked in there!" she eyed the blinds warningly. "I can get you in there just by..." she twiddled her fingers threateningly. Angel took a step back, his brown eyes narrowing slyly.
"Point taken," his reply was so calmly spoken that Cordelia's own eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Just one thing I need you to do," he added innocently- then with a move quicker than the human eye could see, he'd scooped her up and darted across the room, depositing her into the closet and slamming the door.
"ANGELLLLL!!!!!!! YOU ARE SOOOOO DEAD; WELL, DUSTED! LEMME OUT YOU FREAKOFSICK NATURE!" Angel snickered evilly, twisting the handle until he heard a satisfying crack.
"Enjoy your stay, sweetheart."
After about an hour, all went quiet on the other side of that door. Angel settled himself deeper into his chair and attempted to read the book he'd been staring at since he'd sat down.
But he couldn't concentrate. Silly unmanly chuckles kept escaping from him, and all he could think about was what the brunette was doing in there.
"Don't forget the corners!" he called out belatedly.
Silence greeted his evil order, and shifting a little in his seat, Angel began to brood.
What if she'd passed out with whatever fear she had about closets? What if she was in fact claustrophobic...? Guilt slowly ate at him. What had been hilarious at the time was now creeping rapidly towards out and out 'I am a skunk of the worst kind' kinda thoughts. And he didn't like it. One little bit.
"Trust Cordelia Chase to make me feel like a heel," he growled under his breath., now also annoyed
Still he remained steadfastly in his chair. Nope; wouldn't work. This silence was just a ploy to make him feel guilty.
And it was working, dammit!
"Okay, conscience that was thrust on me without my permission..." rising to his feet fluidly and then pausing for a moment.
"Hmm… Do I open the door and run?" He wondered seriously, "Or do I go in there and attempt to smooth her many ruffled feathers?" He knew which option he wanted to take; and then he sighed as if the world lay heavily on his broad shoulders. Then he sagged. "Feather smoothing it is."
The door creaked open inch by inch; his whole body tensed as he waited for either an old chair or a human bundle of rage to fly at him. Nothing. His dark brows dropped as he began to worry.
"Cordelia?" he whispered hesitantly. Nothing.
He edged the door open a little wider and peeked his dark head around it, searching the dusty floor until his guilty eyes rested on a huddled heap curled up in the corner.
Swallowing down the rapidly building shame, he tiptoed towards her and squatted low. Then he heard it; a sniffle. Oh, Dear God! Not that! He reached out a tentative hand.
Cordel-" his world upended and the vampire, the scourge of Europe found himself on his back and straddled by an evil she-beast who held a broken shard of wood a little too close to his chest area.
"Think that was funny didja?" Bright and surprisingly dry eyes glared feral into his shocked orbs. "Well, let's see how funny you find this!" Cordelia shifted down a little, slid the wood lower and poked him in his groin.
"That won't kill me!" Angel literally squeaked.
"Who said I was gonna kill you, you piece of scum?" she laughed a little wildly, and suddenly Angel felt more vulnerable than he'd ever done in his life and unlife put together.
"Cordelia," Angel gulped anxiously, "Let's talk about this rationally, huh?" he gulped again as her fine brow arched in the patented'Are you kidding?' mode.
"What do ya wanna talk about, psycho-evil-torturer-thingy?" she jabbed him lightly, causing a gasp of mortal fear to eep from the vampire beneath her.
"About how you wouldn't drop the subject of my reasons for not" *jab* "Wanting to talk about it?" *jab* "Or should we talk about how you used your superpowers" *jab* "on a defenseless girl" *jab*
Even in such a moment of hell, Angel couldn't help but grin. "Defenseless? Who told you that lie- ouch!"
"You are walking a fine line right now, Angel, so cut out the funnies." Cordelia blinked down at her object of pain, fear and humiliation and resisted the urge to poke and twist. Bastard.
As she spoke, Angel sneaked a hand lower. Before she realized, her hand was captured and their positions were reversed. "Sneaky vamp. I hate you!" she griped, now looking up at the evil vamp in sheep's clothing.
Angel took a second to make sure the shard of wood was thrown to a safe distance, and then looked down at the girl silently. He couldn't really blame her for attacking him; though other places were definitely more acceptable than some. What was his next plan of action?
Pick her up and deposit her outside the closet; apologizing profusely and buying her something nice-and not-made-of-wood? Pick her up, put her outside the closet and run like any sensible vamp would; change his name, have plastic surgery and leave on the next flight to Mars? Angel chewed his bottom lip and mulled over his many choices
"You know, we could do this all day, but I have, you know, A LIFE!" Cordelia finally caught her breath enough to speak and glared with as much ferocity as she was able from her position under that hateful vamp.
He surrounded her completely, and she wasn't too happy with how that set off her hottie alarms. Dammit! He was not only her boss, but dead, in love with Fluffy and definitely not on her macking list anytime soon...sadly.
She shrugged off the tagged-on internal whine and narrowed her lovely eyes. "Angel? Hellooo? Earth to Spacey vamp; move your heavy ass off of me!" she growled pretty impressively and lurched her hips upward. Well, that worked; not! He was like a brick- uhuh, a ton of bricks.; and maybe it wasn't such such a good thing to do, considering *what* she was lurching against!
"Um… Nope." Angel kinda hoped she'd do that again. mini fireworks had exploded across his vision at the abrupt contact and he wanted more.
"Whatdoya mean, 'nope'?" Her eyes widened in outrage. Irritating piece of shit vampire!
"I think," Angel paused and then nodded his head as if coming to some kind of decision- a decision Cordelia just *knew* she wouldn't be on board with: "I think we should stay here, and talk about why you hate closets," he explained slowly as if she were some kind of bomb that could very well go off at any moment, "And then deal with it."
Cordelia just stared at the crazy vamp on top of her with a 'HUH?"
"And then you can clean out the closet without any fear of them." he ended with a smirk. She snorted inelegantly and shifted again.
Maybe she was wrong after all; Fluffy and her pet were made for each other. Both had crackpot ideas that were not only doomed to failure, but possibly life-threatening too.
"Angel, "Cordelia smiled sweetly. "So good to see you are actually learning to channel your less aggressive side- but if you don't GET THE HELL OFF ME I WILL STAKE YOUR NEWLY SENSITIVE ASS!" Angel pursed his lips and settled himself more comfortably.
"Nope." he was enjoying this.
Cordelia closed her eyes tightly; where were stooopid, badly dressed Irishmen when you needed them? Her eyes shot open at the thought; "Doyle! Doyle could be having a vision- think of the helpless, Angel." Desperate measures.
His brow merely lifted, "I'm all for the helpless; so let's get started with you, okay?" Yes, she officially hated the vampire.
Cordelia Chase whimpered, yes, whimpered. The kind of whimper that normally made people rush to the phone to call the nearest Mental Institution. A heavy silence blanketed the little dark room, broken only occasionally by the sound of grinding teeth and the odd heaving sigh.
After a while, Angel sighed himself and propped an elbow onto the floor near the brunette's head. It was more than pleasant having something so soft and..womanly to lie on, but time was moving on and he didn't want them to be interrupted by his seer.
"So…. Tell me all about it, Cordelia," he grinned to himself as he heard her teeth grind even more savagely. "Was it some kind of childhood trauma?" he asked, his voice softening a touch; he got that. Had a stint of it himself with his father. "Come on, Cor, talk to me," he whispered, getting comfortable and releasing her other hand to reach up and brush stray hair from her face. Cordelia sighed wearily.
The vampire was serious! And from the looks of him, he intended to keep her here, on this dirty, dusty floor until she spilled her woes to him. No way in hell.
"I don't wanna talk about it, Angel, so give it up and get off, okay?" Cordelia was quite proud of herself. Not one ounce of snark in that sentence. Maybe he would get the hint and move his undead ass now.
But he didn't. In fact, angel settled himself more comfortably between her thighs. She gulped. Not of the good."I only want to help you face it, Cordy," his deep voice dragged her traitorous thoughts out of the gutter, absently noting his unconscious shortening of her name, and quite liked it. It gave her a warm, yummy feeling deep in her belly. But still no way would she weaken and discuss her hatred of closets to him.
"There is nothing to face; only to repress, so please, please can we drop it now?" Her voice had lost all venom and for a moment, Angel was tempted to acquiesce and just apologize.
But the rose flush that again crept under her skin gave him pause. His eyes narrowed. That wasn't the flush of remembered fear, and the only emotion he picked up from her was…shame?
"Tell me, and I'll move," he instead offered. Cordelia rolled her eyes. That's right- say it in a different way and try to confuse the poor blonde; check the hair, dweeb!
Her clothes were most likely ruined from God knows what, and his large body was heavy in a not-unpleasant way. His lean hips were far too snug between her thighs and that was still definitely a no-no.
Taking a deep sigh- then regretting it when her full breasts pressed against his rock hard chest, Cordelia did an about-turn and figured the sooner she told him, the sooner he'd get off her and the sooner she could go back to forgetting just what a major hottie her boss was.
"XanderandIusedtomackinclosetsandithasputmeoffthemforlife." She said in one long breath. Angel took a few seconds to put in the appropriate spaces and then his eyes widened. "ewwe!"
Cordelia blinked in shock. "Did you just 'ewwe'?"
"Well, yeah," Angel didn't deny it. The thought of Cordelia having sex with Harris anywhere kinda made him want to vomit- and tear his head off.
Hold on…why would he want to tear off the lads' head? Fair enough If he'd found out it was another, certain blonde girl…. He shook his head and growled. He couldn't help it. The thought of those two doing…stuff seriously pissed him off. "Why would you wanna wann have sex with that…boy?" he had to ask.
"EWWWE!" It was Cordelia's turn. She punched him hard in the chest, and not satisfied with that, she also whacked him round the back of his head. "I didn't have *sex* with the loser, what do you take me for, desperate as wel as deficient?" she reached up to whack him again, but he grabbed her wrist and glared.
"You said-" He paused. "What exactly is 'macking' then?" he asked with a frown, even as he felt major relief.
"You know, kissing, lip locking, tongue massaging, tonsil hocke-"
"I get it, no need to go on," Angel growled. Then after a moment a slight grin tilted his lips. "I can understand why you'd want to repress that, though." She returned the grin - then realised what she was doing and scowled up at him.
"Hey, he was a great kisser I'll have you know, buddy." The grin dropped like a stone.
"So why do you have to repress, if he was so good at it?" Angel responded with a marked and surprising pout. Cordelia rolled her eyes; men. You can't live with them, you *can* live without them.
"Becauuuuse closets are a painful reminder of how good things were before he and Willow decided to get all smooshy and two-faced behind my back." Funny how that memory didn't sting as much as it once did. Maybe talking about it was a good thing after all.
"It isn't good to hold onto bad memories, Cordelia," Angel's voice had dropped a little, "They just keep you in the past."
"Says the vamp with a guilty conscience the size of Kansas," Cordelia sighed and shifted. Angel ignored that comment and thought for a minute.
"Maybe you should change the memory?" the lightbulb that went off was almost as bright as the flare of pleasure in his belly at his really clever idea. Why he hadn't done this before now was a bloody mystery, he thought with a wry smile.
"And how would I do that, oh wise one?" Cordelia asked with a hint of snark, self-preservation kicking in at the unholy light that now flickered in his dark eyes; her own widening by the second as she also saw intent. "Hey, what are you doing?" she attempted to move her head back as he lowered his, but the floor stopped her reteat.
"Changing the memory," Angel muttered before reaching his goal and brushing his lips against hers. He felt a flutter of heat as she gasped against his mouth, and took advantage of her parted lips.
Cordelia's brain closed down and sensation took over. God, how could such cool lips be so hot? He tasted of coffee and something uniquely Angel,- and she wanted more. Her hands crept up of their own volition, slim fingers threading through his dark, surprisingly silky hair as his lips massaged hers expertly.
Warm plush lips molded to his and Angel was lost. She tasted of fruit juice and cinnamon, and he wanted more. His hands slid up and strong fingers threaded through her silky soft hair, unconsciously he rocked his hips into her softer, giving ones. Time stood still as gentle kisses turned heated until they drank from each other's mouths like desperately thirsty people who'd been lost in a desert for way too long.
***
Neither heard the outer door open, or the closet door push open a little wider a few seconds later. And neither heard the door click shut, blocking out the last vestiges of light, totally oblivious to the Irishman who'd shook his head and muttered under his breath as he walked over to the couch and settled down with a bottle of whisky and a shot glass.
"Took 'em long enough," Doyle snickered as he pulled the Playboy out of his back pocket and commenced to 'read'.
END