Go TeamC/A
Title: Starting Over
Author: ficbitch82
Posted: Jul 19 2004
Rating:
Category:
Content: Cordelia/Angel, Fred/Gunn etc
Summary: Angel meets an old friend but all isn’t as it seems…
Spoilers: AU, but knowledge of some eps of Buffy/Angel up to S5/S3 would be helpful.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.The idea behind this fic comes from a movie that, for reasons of an evil nature, I’ll disclose after the third chapter. This idea is NOT mine. I’m just borrowing for a while.
Distribution: Anywhere, just let me know where it’s going.
Notes: Cali wants this finished (amongst others) or there will be HELL to pay!!!(Hows that for stalking? *snikker*) A/N 2: I have an idea of where this fic is going now, how it's going to be resolved, etc... Hopefully that means I'll actually finish this one. *G*
Thanks/Dedication: Finally, thanks to my darlingest of Pods, Lisa, I can post chapter 4 (+ onwards). I thought I'd have to start all over but because of whoring it to her and her being wonderful enough to keep it? Most of it was written. Ta, mate!
Feedback: Want me to beg? I can do that...
Chapter One – New BeginningsHe stood at the top of the stairs leading down into Caritas and wished, for what felt like the hundredth time that minute that he hadn’t been brought to this part of town.
It wasn’t a bad part of town per se; in fact, this was one of the nicer areas of Los Angeles. The creatures of the night tended to populate the less loud, brass places of the city – places where they could pick up an unsuspecting victim without being noticed.
Tonight though, his fight had brought him here. His fight had brought him to the one place in the city where he could literally rid the world of seven different kinds of human-eating demons… Only, because of some sanctuary spell enforced by the owner of the club, Angel would have to wait until he got outside to do his evil-ridding.
He frowned, moving down the stairs and through the electro-sensors, having to step through them three times to rid himself of weapons before he was finally allowed in the club.
His target was seated at a booth, smirking. Obviously safe in Caritas, the demon kept looking over at Angel smugly, just daring him to do something, anything, to make his night.
Angel could just imagine one of those bad Clint Eastwood movies that Xander used to watch incessantly, playing at the back of his mind. Go ahead, punk… Make my day. Said the voice in his head, aided by the roll of Angel’s eyes and then… Then, the stage lit up with what seemed like a billion lights, a green demon stepping out onto the stage.
“First, I was afraid
Angel tuned the voice out, the pulsing beat in the karaoke club thrumming through his feet. He glared at his target again, hoping to extricate the demon by sheer will alone when a voice behind him made him turn.
I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live
Without you by my side
But then I spent so my nights
Just thinking how you did me wrong
And I grew strong
And I learned how to get along…”
“Wesley? It’s Cordelia… Listen, our pigeon stool’s nowhere to be seen. I’m gonna finish my drink, say goodbye to Lorne then head home, okay?”
He didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. Cordelia Chase, the once Queen Bitch of Sunnydale High School, closed her state of the art flip phone and ended the call, placing it back inside of her purse.
“Cordelia?”
When she turned, her smile almost split her face. Dressed in a deep purple halter-top and a pair of black leather pants that had half the population of the club practically salivating in their drinks, Cordelia looked fantastic. Her hair drawn back off her face, shorter than the last time Angel had seen her.
“Oh my God, Angel? What are you doing here?”
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, surprising him momentarily before he found himself relaxing into the hug, relishing the contact of the soft, warm body pressed against him.
“I… Hi.” He said, almost sheepishly as she pulled away, guilt flooding through him. He shouldn’t feel guilty. It was a hug, nothing more, nothing less. “What are you doing here?”
“That was my question,” She laughed, talking a little louder than normal over the song from the green demon on stage. “How are you— Okay, wait. You’re not, like, evil right? I mean, are you…” Cordelia hooked her fingers into claws, leaned forward and screwed up her face in the cutest look Angel had ever seen. “Grrrr, still?”
Angel stared at her, bemused. “Yeah… There’s not actually a cure for that.”
“But you’re not here to, like, bite people?”
“No,” Angel shook his head, “No biting.”
Cordelia grinned. “So really, what’re you doing here? Is Buffy with you?”
He could almost feel the smile falling off his face. It was amazing how some moments, he could almost forget about her, when others all he could think of was her smile, the touch of her lips on his.
Angel sighed, glancing down at Cordelia. “We… Uh… We broke up a while ago.” He said, matter-of-factly. Maybe if he just said it quickly, some of the pain would go away.
Or maybe, Cordelia would look at him the way she was now, with those patented pitying eyes. He felt a flash of anger, a moment of regret over opening his mouth and ever saying those words to Cordelia Chase… When she let her head tilt to one side.
“Love sucks, huh?”
It was a simple statement, one Angel had heard a thousand times in his 250-year life span. The most surprising thing of all? It made him smile.
This time, it was Cordelia’s turn to be surprised. She looked at him, and then blatantly down at his crotch area to make sure there was no leather, before looking back up at him again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Said Angel, bemused. “So what about you?”
“Oh, I’m fine--” Cordelia began, nodding.
“No,” Angel interrupted, “I mean, what about you? Here, in LA?”
“Oh! That ‘what about you?’” She grinned, running her finger around the tip of her glass and glancing around the club, presumably to see if her pigeon stool had turned up yet.
When she turned back to Angel, she was smiling again, “I own an investigations agency with a couple of friends of mine. Nothing fancy, but simple enough to pay the bills and keep me in—Whyyyyy are you looking at me like that?” Cordelia’s eyes narrowed.
“An investigations agency?” Angel looked at her curiously. She couldn’t be serious, could she? Cordelia Chase, the bane of Buffy’s life in high school, was running her own investigations team… And seemed to be enjoying her job?
Okay, that? Was new.
Something to do with fashion, he could have believed – Cordelia and her friends had been like the Russian army if they cared a lot about shoes but… An investigations agency?
“Believe me,” Cordelia laughed, “That wasn’t my big plan. I was supposed to move to LA, get a fabulous acting career, have Steve Paymer fall in love with me and live happily ever after.”
Angel raised his eyebrows, about to ask who the hell Steve Paymer was but the name seemed vaguely familiar—and then he remembered where he’d heard it. Dawn, the week before he’d left, had been babbling excitedly to Buffy about seeing the guy somewhere – a signing at Sunnydale mall, if he remembered rightly.
She wanted to marry that guy?
“As you can see my plan didn’t work out,” Cordelia continued, good-naturedly. “My first acting gig? A national, by the way, I got set up to be part of some televised cult sacrifice. I got rescued by Groo and Doyle and from there, my part in the whole helping the helpless deal from great sucking evil was sealed, only it was my idea to start charging the helpless and get a little money to actually, y’know, buy stuff?” She grinned, taking a drink of her non-alcoholic Margarita.
Angel smiled again, before lifting a hand to signal a waitress. Technically, he was here on business – the demon in the corner that, even now, was still bugging the crap out of Angel.
Just one good hit and it’d be dead… But for some reason, Angel wanted to stay here and find out more about Cordelia, about why she fought this fight when she didn’t have to.
It was a simple truth he’d learned about her back in Sunnydale. She could mouth off, talk good game about the better elsewhere’s she had to be – but simple human strength kept her around researching when, knowing her, she’d rather be out partying.
Before he could get the waitress’ attention, Angel was suddenly aware of the presence beside him. The demon that’d been up on stage, apparently finished his version of ‘I Will Survive’.
“Plumcake!” Lorne greeted Cordelia, jovially, “How nice to see you gracing our presence again… Who’s our friend?”
Angel watched as the demon looked him up, down and up again, his red eyes narrowing.
“Lorne!” Cordelia smiled, apparently not noticing the icy glares shot Angel’s way. “Meet Angel. Angel? Meet Lorne. He owns this place.”
Lorne extended a hand but it was out of nothing other than politeness. The frown on his face told Angel that he wanted him to disappear. Fast.
“Angel.” Said the vampire, extending as much courtesy as Lorne was giving him. “Nice place you got here.”
Smiling, but only for Cordelia’s benefit, Lorne raised his eyebrows. “So how do you know Cordelia… Angel, was it?”
It was the oldest blow off in the book, usually reserved for jealous boyfriends and the like, but somehow Angel doubted they were that involved. Cordelia was oblivious to it – or if she did notice, it meant she was used to it.
“He’s from Sunnydale,” She smiled, “Remember? Those traumatising days that I, like, never talk about?”
“Ahh, a Sunnydale dweller.” Lorne nodded, “Which, if I remember rightly? Means that you’re as reluctant to talk about yourself as Cordelia here.”
Angel glared at him. True, he didn’t want to talk about his past, especially not to some green demon that’d done nothing but glare at him.
“Not really into the whole share my pain deal,” He said tersely, “But thanks anyway.”
“Believe me, Angelcakes, I wasn’t offering a shoulder to cry on if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Cordelia looked up, surprised. She elbowed Lorne in the ribs and coughed, embarrassed. “Angel’s okay, Lorne. He’s one of the good guys.”
Angel could almost imagine her adding the ‘Providing he doesn’t get laid’ part – Cordelia had always had that knack for saying what she thought, no matter what.
Lorne didn’t look convinced. In fact, if anything, he looked more convinced that Angel was something that could be scraped off the bottom of his shoe.
Angel frowned, turning to look at his demon friend who he’d accosted earlier, trying to feed off an unsuspecting victim. The booth he’d been sitting at was now occupied by a Torval demon, sitting sipping his beverage of choice. He swore under his breath, turning back to Cordelia and effectively ignoring Lorne. “Listen, I’m going to have to cut our little chat short – my business just ran out of here. Maybe we… I mean, if you’re not busy we could…”
“Pick this up later?” Cordelia finished for him, smiling. Angel never had been known for his conversational skills. “Sure, I’d… I’d like that. I mean its not every day the very embodiment of all things Sunnydale walks into your local, is it?”
Leaning over, Cordelia unzipped her purse, producing a card from the bottom of it. “Here,” She handed it to him, “Just… Call the office and ask for me. I’m usually around. Or—” She stopped, screwing up her nose as she thought of something. “You could always come back here, tomorrow night?”
“Here?” Damn, thought Angel, Green guy doesn’t intimidate me but another night of glares like this? Enough to put me off coming back here at all.
“Yeah,” She smiled again, “We’re having a birthday party thing for one of my friends. Fred. She turns 25 tomorrow. And… You could come, maybe?”
Angel shifted, nervously. Meeting up with Cordelia he could do but gate crashing a birthday party? That didn’t sound like the best plan. “I… How about another night?”
“Are you declining ‘cause you’re busy being avoidy-manpire or because you don’t like the idea of crashing a party?”
Busted. Angel looked at her, nodding. “Last one, I think.”
“Well,” Cordelia looked down at her drink for a moment, taking a breath, “People are bringing guests and… You could maybe be mine?”
Angel looked at her, stunned. Three years ago, this would have been a different invitation. Three years ago, Cordelia would have been hanging off his arm and trying every trick in the book to get him to notice her. Not for the first time in his unlife, Angel was struck by how times (and people alike) changed.
“I’d like that. We could catch up.” He smiled.
Cordelia looked up at him again. “Say… Eight?”
“Sure.” Angel nodded, and then pointed towards the door, “I have to… I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cordelia and Lorne both watched as he walked away, coat billowing out behind him.
Lorne was considerably less than pleased. “So, you know him from days of olde, huh, Plumcake?”
“Don’t Plumcake me.” Cordelia turned, glaring at Lorne. “Could you have been more rude to the guy? All he was doing was talking to me! It’s not like he was trying to bone me in the middle of Caritas!”
If Angel was scared? Then Lorne had a reason to be even more so. You did not mess with Cordelia Chase, no matter what. There were just certain rules you lived by.
“And as lovely an image as that produced,” Lorne grimaced, looking up as the Gour’Shan Mage on stage finished murdering a Barry White song, “Duty calls. Listen, I’m sorry… I just… I was looking out for you, Cordelicious. You know how I worry.”
Cordelia sighed, picking up her drink from the table. She downed it, wishing for a split second that it were alcoholic, before patting Lorne on the arm affectionately. “I know you do, but really? There”s nothing to worry about between Angel and me. Unless he grows a brain and realises that little blondes who know their way around an ancient fighting axe aren’t the only girls out there to be boned? Then we’re good. Trust me, okay?” She smiled, picking up her purse and waving at one of the waitresses across the club. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lorne sighed, watching as Cordelia sauntered away – twenty pairs of eyes concentrated on that cute little hiney of hers. He wished that she had a normal life and that what she was thinking could ever happen with Angel.
He didn’t have to hear her sing to know that her aura was playing a little tune of its own – that much was obvious. The guy had shown up and Cordelia was her glittering old self for just ten minutes. Not that she wasn’t her usual glittering self, but this… This was different.
Reaching into his pocket, Lorne retrieved his cell phone, dialling the number for the Hyperion hotel. When they finally picked up, Lorne sighed. “Houston? We have a problem…”
Chapter Two – Changes“So what do we know about this guy other than three years ago he went evil and killed most of Cordelia’s graduating class which… By the way? Not making me like him any more, know what I’m saying?” Asked Gunn frowning, his voice hushed.
They were seated in the lobby of the Hyperion, Fred by his side, Wesley and Lorne across from him. Each member of the investigations team wore similar expressions – frowns, because this part of the night just wasn’t in the current job description.
“For all intents and purposes Angel is a good man,” Said Wesley, rubbing the back of his neck, tiredly, “But… What little I know of him isn’t exactly much to go on.”
“I hate to say this, guys, but that’s not really the issue here.” Fred looked between her friends, a little sadly. “Tomorrow night, he’s gonna walk into Caritas, see Cordelia sitting there and be wondering why there’s no fabulous birthday party. He asks her and we’re back to having a real bad day again…”
Wasn’t that the understatement of the century? If this thing went the way they were all figuring on? Then it’d be more than a bad day.
Occasionally, things happened, things beyond their control.
They tried their damndest to keep a semblance of normality in Cordelia’s life, pulled the wool over her eyes every single day just to make sure she didn’t get herself upset.
Sometimes, their plan worked and everything was good for another day. On others… On days like today, Angel had walked in. She knew him from her high school days, those days she rarely ever talked about. It was easy to keep up the pretence when some of the only people who knew about it were seated in this very room.
Right now it wasn’t Cordelia they were worried about; it was Angel.
If he showed up tomorrow night then the likelihood was, he was going to ask questions. Inquisitive, worrying questions. And if his questions were the questions that Fred thought he was going to ask? It was going to throw Cordelia’s world into orbit.
“So what do we do? We been keeping up this routine for her sake for as long as possible and now he shows up, we gotta change it?” Gunn rubbed a hand tiredly across his face, not liking this idea any more than the others did.
“Perhaps not…” Wesley looked up from his seat, tapping his pencil against his thigh. “Maybe I could get there early tomorrow, try to catch Angel before he goes into the club? Explain what’s happened to Cordelia?”
“Will that work?” Fred wondered aloud. It was only one day, one night really. Maybe they could swing this without Cordelia getting hurt too much? Gosh, she hoped so. The last ‘bad day’ they’d had, Cordelia had cried for three hours straight before asking to be taken back to her doctor, to have it explained all over again.
“I dunno he seemed pretty inquisitive if you ask me. Like the type who’d ask more questions as soon as he got answers?” Lorne offered.
Wesley sighed, “If there was any way to get in contact with Angel, tell him to just forget about tomorrow night I would but… He didn’t leave a number, anything?”
Lorne shook his head, gravely. “Nothing but the smile on Cordelia’s face. I hate to say this—”
“Then don’t.” Wesley snapped.
They all knew what was coming, Fred realised. Angel could be good for Cordelia. She was always happy, always smiling but… There was something missing, something they’d lacked since the day of her accident. It felt wrong, deceiving her like this and if Angel came in, blowing the lid off everything they’d done then—Where did that leave them?
Where did that leave Cordelia?
“Maybe we should sleep on it.” Said Fred, sensibly, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers. “We can decide what to do tomorrow, right? It’s not as if we need a decision now or anything…”
“No,” Wesley stood, ending the conversation as he gathered his books together. “I’ll go talk to Angel tomorrow night. The sooner this is sorted out, the better.”
Fred glanced at Gunn and Lorne nervously, watching as Wesley headed out of the lobby and into the office, closing the door behind him. He’d looked stressed lately, more so since Lorne had called from the club announcing that their problem had a name and its name was Angel.
“You think I should go talk to him?” She whispered, knowing that right now a world of guilt was hanging over Wesley’s shoulders. He blamed himself; she knew he did, for everything that had happened this past year.
It wasn’t easy, not for any of them, but a lot of it had taken a toll on Wesley. Cordelia’s accident, losing Groo the way they had – it had all led up to this moment, this moment when watching Wesley walk away with the weight of the world on his shoulders was harder than any routine they had.
“Leave him be for a while, Freddikins.” Said Lorne, shaking his head. “He’ll come round.”
I hope so, thought Fred, sighing so gently that no one else heard, Maybe Angel’s what Cordelia needs… Maybe…***
Usually, Angel didn’t go in for things like this. Social situations, parties and get togethers like the one he was attending tonight made him uncomfortable, mainly because his two modes with people were bite and avoid.
He’d vowed that tonight would be different.
Last night had been strange, to say the least. He’d spent most of the night chasing a demon across the better half of LA, only to wind up in a karaoke club and find himself enjoying talking to Cordelia Chase.
She’d changed a lot since high school. The way she held herself, the way she talked – everything was different about her. Angel suspected that underneath still lay the deeply sarcastic, biting young woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind but… Outside she was quieter, almost.
She’d grown up.
Unfortunately for Angel? He’d never changed.
The guilt had started not long after he’d left the club. How could he think of another woman when Buffy was back in Sunnydale? How could he think of even entertaining notions of just being around someone like Cordelia when the reason he’d left Buffy was because he’d come to realise he could never give her a normal life?
He was a hypocrite, he’d decided after a particular bout of brooding confusion. He was a hypocrite because six months down the line he’d be walking out on Cordelia, proclaiming the same thing.
It’s not you, it’s me… He might say, insulting her intelligence with the oldest blow off in the book. How can I give you something normal when I’m—Not?
Angel sighed, his mood blackening by the second as he spun the wheel of the GTX, knuckles tight on the wheel.
Why am I going? He asked himself for only about the thousandth time that hour, glancing over at the small gift bag on the seat. He’d gone shopping earlier that night, actually braving the Beverly Center mall and picking up a small, tasteful silver necklet for Cordelia’s friend.
He might be out of the loop on parties, but he knew that you didn’t turn up at one on the arm of someone who was actually invited, without bringing a gift.
He turned the corner to Caritas, pulling up to the large industrial parking lot and shutting off the engine.
I could just go in there and tell her that something came up… Angel pondered, staring dead ahead of him as a knuckleheaded guy and his girlfriend pulled up in the car in front of him. Tell her that there’s a demon… Some business I need to attend to?
The more he thought about that idea, the more he liked it—Until he thought about Cordelia, actually being a decent person for all of half an hour and listening to his stories, telling her some of his own.
Sighing, Angel got out of the car and headed down into Caritas, only having to pass through the barriers once this time before being granted safe passage.
The club didn’t look any different than it had the night before. No pretty banners or balloons, nothing to signal that this was indeed a birthday party, until Angel cottoned on. 21st century and banners, balloons and the like were probably carbondated. Maybe the classier kind of birthday party just didn’t have those things now, instead favouring the normal look for the surprise element perhaps?
He looked over the heads of the crowd, slightly bigger than last night he was pleased to note, before he saw her, standing at the bar and glancing around, taking a sip from her glass every so often.
He walked over, trying to smile but not look serial-killer stalkeryish – when she pulled out her phone, dialling a number.
“Gunn? It’s Cordelia…” She started, “Listen, our pigeon stool’s nowhere to be seen. I’m gonna finish my drink, say goodbye to Lorne then head home, okay?”
Angel blinked, startled. Same Cordelia, same cell phone – hell, same bar as last night… Exact same words, except this time, she’d said another name. Gunn.
Same everything.
Different feeling.
Last night, he’d been almost mildly surprised at seeing her in this bar, in LA. Now, there was dread, fear almost. What the hell was with the big sense of déjà vu he was getting? Was this some kind of joke?
“Cordelia?”
She looked up and there, just like last night, was the same smile that almost split her face, the same surprised look in her eyes.
“Oh my God, Angel? What are you doing here?”
Angel blinked again, staring at her. “What’s… I…”
“Gee,” She smiled tentatively, “I didn’t think that’d be such a toughie. Are you okay, Angel?”
I’m not okay. Angel continued to look at her, watching the curve of her lips for that telltale ‘gotcha’ smile. Nothing came. Instead, Cordelia just looked increasingly worried, glanced down at his crotch area for the leather pants and then back up again.
“Okay, wait. You’re not, like, evil right? I mean, are you…” Cordelia hooked her fingers into claws; leaned forward and screwed up her face into the same cute-as-hell look she’d given him last night, “Grrrr, still?”
“Yeah,” Said Angel softly, almost disbelievingly, “There’s not actually a cure for that.”
“Did you just crack a joke?” She looked at him, surprised.
Angel guessed he had just cracked a joke – albeit sarcastic, like it had been. Those were the exact words he’d used last night… The exact words she’d used. What the hell’s going on?
“Cordelia—”
She moved forward before he could get the rest of the sentence out, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.
Angel was speechless. There was no party here tonight, no banners and balloons. Cordelia was here, just like she’d been last night – dressed differently, hair hanging down around her face – but it was like living that night all over again.
He held her close for a moment, before she stepped back, looking up at him and smiling again. “So what are you doing here?”
“I… Business.” He lied, feeling his heart sink a little.
Cordelia’s bullshit-o-meter had always been high. Tonight, it seemed, it was higher. She looked pointedly at the gift bag in his hands, raising her eyebrows. “Dating business?”
He looked down at the gift he’d bought for ‘Fred’, wondering whether he’d dreamt everything that had happened last night. On the stage, the lights were shining brightly, Lorne singing again, a different song.
“Angel?”
He turned his attention back to Cordelia, puzzled. “I—”
“Is Buffy here? Is that who you’re meeting?” She hopped off her stool, looking around the club for the rest of the Sunnydale crew, her expression growing increasingly more worried.
“Buffy and I… We broke up.” Said Angel, gently, watching the same expression pass across her face.
Sympathy.
Angel felt none of the anger he’d felt last night. Confusion maybe, sympathy… A little sadness even, but none of the anger. Something was wrong with Cordelia – and he intended to figure out what.
“Love sucks, huh?” She asked, trying to pave over her conversational faux-pas.
“I guess it does.” Angel nodded, giving a little smile. “So, what about you? What’re you doing in LA?”
He listened in silence as she told him the exact same things she had last night – even nodded and smiled in all the right places. But as he listened, Angel could feel his heart sinking even more.
He hadn’t dreamt last night, he knew that for certain – this wasn’t even déjà vu, something was wrong, very wrong.
“As you can see my plan didn’t work out,” Cordelia continued, unaware that Angel was barely taking in what she was saying. “My first acting gig? A national, by the way, I got set up to be part of some televised cult sacrifice. I got rescued by Groo and Doyle and from there, my part in the whole helping the helpless deal from great sucking evil was sealed, only it was my idea to start charging the helpless and get a little money to actually, y’know, buy stuff?”
Angel smiled again, wondering how long he could keep this up before he started looking like creepy serial killer man. As a general rule, he didn’t smile. Smiling tended to welcome people into talking to him, into introducing themselves and making the kind of small talk that Angel avoided like the plague.
He didn’t smile. He brooded. It was a simple fact of life, like… People. People like Cordelia. They were the typical kind of girl, bitchy, shallow, vapid – they didn’t change.
Except Cordelia had changed. She’d changed so much that Angel barely recognised the girl sitting in front of him and now, he’d been drawn deeper into her life than he’d ever imagined. He wanted to know what was going on, why he was getting the biggest sense of déjà vu ever imagined while she couldn’t remember a thing about last night.
He wanted to know why he felt drawn to her when this was Cordelia, the girl from Sunnydale who’d made Buffy’s life a living hell at every opportunity.
Angel wanted to know why he was beginning to look at Cordelia in a whole different light than he would have been if he hadn’t met her last night.
“Plumcake!” From behind him, the green demon he’d been introduced to the night before approached. Same demon, different coloured suit and a drink in his hand, smiling broadly as he came upon the pair, “How nice to see you gracing our presence again… Who’s our friend?”
Before Cordelia could introduce them, Angel turned. “I’m Angel… Lorne, right?” He asked, eyes narrowed.
Cordelia was shocked. She stared at the pair open-mouthed for a moment before a look of ‘duh’ passed across her face. “Oh, you guys have met?”
“Not exactly.” Said Angel, tersely, his eyes never leaving Lorne’s. Last night, the guy had been as frosty as hell, wanting Angel out of there before things got ugly, he presumed.
“I… Uh…” Lorne’s eyes shifted to Cordelia, trying to regain some of his composure. “Cordelia, honey, you wanna go get me a drink? Angel and I, we have some unfinished business to attend to.”
“You’re damn right we do.” Angel snarled under his breath, watching as Cordelia picked up her own drink, puzzled, heading away from them and to the bar. He turned on Lorne again, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. He didn’t care where they were – he wanted answers, wanted to know just what the hell was going on tonight and when, exactly, he’d fallen head first into the twilight zone.
“Calm down, Angelcakes…” Said Lorne, wondering where the hell Wesley and all his explanations had gotten to. “I’ll explain everything, I promise, I just need you to calm down, okay?”
Angel glared at him, aware that there was a No Violence clause in the club but stepping forward anyway. “Look, I know something’s going on and—”
“That’s enough, Angel.”
The owner of the voice came to stand in front of him, right next to Lorne – his expression the same. For a moment, Angel was startled. The last time he’d seen him was back in Sunnydale three years ago, being carried from the remains of Sunnydale high school on a stretcher.
“Wesley?” He looked different. No longer the stuffy, suited Watcher, Wesley had a rugged look to him, a tired look on his face that Angel suspected a good nights sleep would be nowhere near to fixing.
“I understand you’re confused,” Said Wesley in the clipped British tone Angel was used to, “But practically manhandling Lorne in his own establishment is no way to get answers.”
“I wasn’t…” Angel began but from the look on Wesley’s face, argument was futile. He’d get his answers, providing he behaved like a human being about this. And maybe, thought Angel, if I don’t ask too many questions.
“Can we use your office?” Wesley glanced at Lorne, an unspoken understanding passing between the two.
Lorne nodded, giving a little head tilt to signal that Cordelia was on her way over. “Plumcake, 3 o clock and approaching fast…” He murmured under his breath.
The three men turned, seeing her balancing a tray of drinks in her hands. “Okay, I got a Seabreeze, a pigs blood and a non-alcoholic beverage for Wesley. I think I got it covered.”
“You saw me come in?” Asked Wesley, realising that he wasn’t as stealthy as he might have hoped.
“Gunn told me you were coming.” She smiled.
“Oh.” Wesley smiled somewhat tightly, though Cordelia didn’t seem to notice, before taking his drink from the tray. “Listen, Cordelia, Angel and I have some business we need to attend to, so—”
Before Angel knew what was happening, the tray of drinks had gone up in the air, spattering across the back wall of the club.
Cordelia reared backwards, clutching her head.
He was by her side in an instant, stopping her from hitting the floor as his arms wound around her. Cordelia cried out in agony, rocking forwards as pain racked her entire body.
Angel felt useless – completely unable to understand what was happening or do something about it as Cordelia’s arms flailed, fingers scrabbling for purchase to hold onto something – anything. Wesley and Lorne shared a look, before Cordelia stopped crying out, becoming still in Angel’s arms.
She buried her face in Angel’s chest and he could feel the whimpers through his coat, his hands tightening at the small of her back. “Easy, easy… It’s okay.” He murmured, though everything was clearly not okay.
“Wesley, you wanna explain what’s going on now?” He asked darkly, not letting Cordelia go for a second. The closer she was to him, the better he felt, the more he felt like he was actually doing something.
“I think your explanation just took a back seat,” Said Wesley, softly, taking Cordelia’s arm as she looked up, leading her over to a seat as Angel and Lorne looked on. “What did you see?”***
For Cordelia, the streets had passed by in a blur. They’d dropped her off at her apartment an hour ago, Fred already there with an ice pack and a hot bath (nothing that Phantom Dennis couldn’t already provide), armed with a worried look on her face.
“What’d you see? Are you okay?”
Questions. Always questions. Like she wouldn’t tell them what she saw? Or like she was going to say, “Well actually? No. My head’s splitting apart with the severe suck-fest drool-o-rama vision I have going on but please, sit down, eat my food, wait around until the guys come back and tell you that hey, Cordy-watch is over… You can go home now!”
Moaning softly, she pressed her fingertips against her forehead.
“So this guy just showed up?” Asked Fred, softly. “This… This Angel guy?”
She could feel flesh ripping, bones snapping as the demon tore into its victim with teeth as sharp as knives.
“Yeah,” Cordelia murmured, wishing that Fred would just stop talking. “He just turned up at the club, looked at me sorta weird and started asking me all these questions.”
“Questions?”
God, if she had to explain one more thing her head was going to explode, seriously. The Powers That Be? Not exactly lacking with the visions lately and the more the Powers sent the visions? The more her head hurt.
“Questions.” Cordelia repeated softly, feeling the dull throbbing behind her right eye growing worse. “It was weird, y’know? It was like he was looking at me and… And expecting something and… Well, I didn’t know what the hell he wanted. I was just thankful he wasn’t ripping my throat out.”
Screaming, so much screaming… Was it ever going to stop?
The silence outside her head made her look up. Fred was never silent – she was always mulling something over, mumbling to herself about numbers and figures that meant nothing to Cordelia. “Oh, he’s good now,” She nodded, feeling like rocks were dropping inside her head, “Totally throat-ripping free.”
“Uhm, that doesn’t really make me feel better.”
Cordelia looked at Fred, “Long story. But Angel’s good, most of the time at least. Providing he doesn’t get all groiny with someone.”
“Groiny?” Fred was almost afraid to ask.
“Y’know, biblical,” Cordelia snorted, “As in the com-shuk me vibe that Groo had going on when he first came to LA and—Speaking of which, where is he today? He is coming back for your birthday tomorrow, right?”
Did she really have to ask? Groo wouldn’t miss something as important as this. It was Fred’s first birthday back in this dimension, the first birthday since she’d been spirited away through the portal in the Los Angeles Public Library and Cordelia was determined to make a big deal out of it.
She’d invited Fred’s parents, two of the nicest people she’d ever had the fortune to meet, and had organised the biggest get together that Caritas had ever, or would ever see.
It was gonna be huge – providing that things like visions tonight didn’t get in the way. Tomorrow, Chase Investigations was closed for business and the partying would commence. Groo had to be there.
“Of course,” Said Fred, light brown curls bobbing as she nodded her head. “He wouldn’t miss it.”
Cordelia smiled. Of course he wouldn’t miss it, this was Groo, after all. “Okay, I hate to be Ms. Anti-Social and everything but…”
“It’s okay,” Fred stood up, gathering her things together as she got off Cordelia’s bed. “I can just sit waitin’ out in the living room with Dennis until the guys come back.”
“Fred, you can go home.” Cordelia reminded her, “The Powers? Not gonna hit me with a double whammy tonight, trust me.” Or at least they wouldn”t if they knew what was good for them.
“I-I know, I just… I told Wesley I’d stick around while he, Gunn and Angel went to—”
“Angel?” Cordelia looked at Fred, stunned. “What does Angel have to do with my vision?”
Okay, this one was new. She had a vision and Angel was tagging along? This bizarro-world was getting kinda tired. Since when did he care what happened to anyone other than Buffy?
“Well uh, Wesley said they might need some help on this stuff I… I can go check if you want me to?”
Cordelia rubbed her temples in concentric circles, more puzzled than usual. Sure, she got that Angel was, like, stronger than human and everything. Hell, she’d even go out on a limb to say that he was a good fighter, the whole four times she’d seen him do it but… Tagging along to solve her vision brain? What was wrong with the staff they had? And could they honestly afford taking someone else—
Woah there, Jumpy! She told herself sharply, There’s nothing to say that Angel’s even considering becoming staff. He’s a—A guy, he could just be tagging along for the whole violence thing and… Cordelia blinked, trying to clear her mind.
“No,” She told Fred, “It’s okay, I just thought that maybe… Never mind. I’m gonna get some rest, okay?”
She watched as Fred nodded, fussing around her for a couple of minutes before finally shutting off the light, wishing Cordelia pleasant dreams and shutting the door behind her.
She breathed out, slowly, watching the shadows as they changed shape on her wall. Well, tonight was… Interesting, I guess. First, Angel shows up and drops the bombshell from Not-Hell in the form of him and Buffy no longer doing the whole angst-o-rama thing and then, vision, and apparent weirdness with the gang that I’m not part of. Could this night get any weirder?
Of course, it could. She’d been fighting the good fight for just over two years now, things could always get weirder, or worse, which was the usual way for things to go round here.
Cordelia blinked, closed her eyes and felt a searing flash of pain. I know, already! They’re working on it… It wasn’t like they listened. They never listened. It didn’t matter which vision happened – knife in the eye guy, eyeball in the back of the head girl – they always came back to her, asked why they couldn’t be saved, why the Powers hadn’t given her the visions sooner.
Sometimes, Cordelia thought she was going out of her mind. Other times, she knew she was. You didn’t dream about things like that and not be high up on the crazy-o-meter. Some of the time, they weren’t even dreams, they were just… Visions. Mini-visions, she supposed, showing her things that had gone and things that were going to come unless the guys got with the program just a little bit quicker.
“Right now would be good, guys,” She muttered to the ceiling, watching as the girl being eaten by the nasty-looking demon flashed in front of her face, “Right now would be really good.”