Go TeamC/A
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PART 3 ANGEL
Angel reeled under an avalanche of emotion. Foremost was temptation, the need to grab even the slimmest chance to bring her back, swiftly followed by fear of the likely crushing disappointment that would come from taking it. How could he even consider taking this asshole's word for anything? He had no idea who or what this creature really was and they were talking about souls.
The one thing left Angel couldn't afford to lose or have some stranger mess about with.
The sheer magnitude of what he would be risking had his head spinning, imagining the ugliness, death and mayhem his unsouled self could and would wreak at the helm of 'Hell Incorporated'. The guys would never forgive him if he put everything on the line for something too incredible to be believed. He wouldn't blame them.
"Do it."
The words were out and shocked at himself he tensed, but didn't try and call them back. If this was the only chance for Cordelia to live her life, then he had to take it. With that firmly entrenched in his mind it wasn't a difficult decision to make. In fact it was one of the easiest he'd made since before her ascension.
"Thank you, Angel. You won't regret it," promised Bob sincerely and with a last direct, unreadable stare he steepled his fingers and bowed his head to mutter something unintelligible even to vampire ears.
Despite being braced for anything, the next second found Angel lying flat on his back on the cold tiles of the lobby floor. There was a stabbing pain at the back of skull where he'd hit the hard tiles and he groaned. His whole body felt like he'd been hit by a dump truck. Stunned and disoriented he stayed unmoving, blinking to focus on the ceiling above him and running the vampire equivalent of an internal diagnostics check.
He was still struggling to adjust to his abrupt change of position when a smiling Bob stepped into his direct line of sight and hunkered down. "How are you feeling, Bud?" The older man asked both curious and sympathetic but with a trace of amusement in his dark eyes and raised brows.
It was a good question. Bemused Angel hesitated to reply, still thinking about it. Then his lips opened of their own accord. "How do you think? Geeze you coulda warned me about the whole suckage thing beforehand." Shocked dark eyes widened and Angel clapped a hand over his mouth.
Gingerly he took it away again to ask, "Did I just say that?" He had to ask, but he was damned sure of one thing, if this was what he thought it was. He was going to have to tape his mouth shut.
"No, Cordelia did. Looks like you got yourself another roomie and a mouthy one at that." Sympathy failed this time and the Bob look-alike winked at the flabbergasted vampire still lying flat out on the floor.
"Cordelia?" Angel asked out loud, searching the room for god knows what, unsure yet how this was supposed to work, or even if it really had.
"*Hey, Angel; guess I wasn't quite so ready to move on as I thought huh*?" Hearing that much needed familiar voice, Angel sat up so fast his head spun. Holding one hand to his neck, he whipped his head right and left then stopped and forced his recalcitrant mind to focus inside himself.
"Is that really you?" He whispered, forgetting he had an audience, too wrapped up in a spreading pressure in his chest. If he didn't know it was impossible, he could almost believe his heart was about to start beating.
"*The one and only*," Cordy replied. "*Wow I can feel your feelings. How freaky is that?*" She wasn't the only one feeling strange. He couldn't feel anyone's emotions but his own. But there was definitely something…
Then it hit him exactly what it was lying beneath his emotions that felt so alien and yet inexplicably familiar too; humour, comfort and an indefinable lightness of spirit that only Cordelia had ever brought him. She was here, with him. Now.
Angel looked up at Bob who was still waiting patiently beside him and didn't even try and stop the wide, almost giddy smile from dawning on his face. "Cordy's in here," he said in wonderment, needing to say it out-loud as if to cement the fact. "I can hear her voice in my head." He added, lightly pressing his fingers to his brow.
"Yeah I know, big Guy," replied Bob laconically then stood up, and offering a hand heaved the distracted vampire up off his ass. "I also know I should have warned you about that. But I didn't want to sour the deal."WILLOW & FAITH
The motel room was nothing out of the ordinary, just two beds with a dresser, a tiny bathroom and small TV on a plain wooden stand. She'd been in much worse dives than this, thought Faith then glanced back at the pyjama clad red head sitting cross-legged on the bed, engrossed in looking through an old school yearbook.
"So where did Buffy say she was going?" Faith asked, feeling even more hemmed in here than she had in her room. Edgily she paced the limited space available between the beds and the wall in an effort to release some of her pent up energy, black boots skimming the dark blue pile of the carpet accompanied by the crisp swishing sound of her black jeans.
"She didn't," replied Willow looking up with a wry smile, despite her red-rimmed eyes. "She just said she needed some air," she added and flipped another page.
"Oh look, here's Cordy again. Wow how many is that now"?
There was no envy or resentment in her tone, just wistfulness. She missed High School, mostly for the simplicity of it which looking back she hadn't appreciated at the time, apocalypses none withstanding of course.
"The last time I saw the real Cordelia I elbowed her in the face," admitted Faith with an uncomfortable shrug, giving the astonished witch a twisted and depreciating smile. Guilt was such a bitch, especially when you couldn't make up for it, she thought.
When Faith was feeling upset about something it didn't matter how hard she tried to hide it, you could always tell. The fact that she was pacing and nervously playing with her hands, fisting them and then rubbing the fingers nervously together was a dead give away. Willow guessed rightly it was guilt.
"Really? Ouch, but I guess that was when you were still in your psycho slayer girl phase," excused Willow waving a dismissive hand. "I'm sure she forgot all about it," she said soothingly with a quicksilver smile that turned her rather plain face into gamine attractiveness.
"The last time I saw the real Cordy was after Buffy died. Not counting the 'enslave the world rogue PTB' that is," Willow disclaimed before admitting softly, "and I was so shocked when she hugged me".
"The rogue PTB hugged you?" Seriously creeped out at the thought Faith shuddered. "Nasty," she offered with her typical style of blunt sympathy. Willow responded with a quick shake of her head, causing red strands to whip onto smooth cheeks.
"No Cordy did- the real one. She seemed so upset about Buffy dying." She said. Then her eyes widened as another thought struck. "Oh, and something else that struck me as funny was how she kept looking at Angel, like she'd catch him if he fainted or something."
Both girls were instantly distracted by the idea of the slim girl catching the tall, large and surly vampire they all knew in a dead faint. "I'd forgotten about that," Willow murmured struck by a feeling of nostalgia for a girl she'd never really got to know.
"I gotta tell you, I'd have paid good money to see that." Joked Faith lightly, pushing her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and helplessly grinning at the mental picture. "Just think of the razzing opportunities."
"Yeah," agreed Willow with a dimpled smile back. "I wondered about them after that," she murmured feeling an overwhelming sadness creep back in and her eyes welled again. "They were so good for each other ya know?"
Willow felt better for saying it. She'd thought it many times before when she'd talked to Cordy or Angel on the phone, but Buffy hadn't liked to hear it. So Willow ended up keeping those observations to herself for the sake of her friend and keeping the peace. It hadn't been hard since they'd all been busy with various catastrophes, making sure the two groups kept out of touch for the most part.
Faith nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed. Why did the good ones always end up dead? She wondered futilely. Then uncomfortable with the unusually philosophical train of her thoughts, she shrugged them off. "Wesley too; you'd hardly recognise them from how they used to be back in good ole Sunny 'D'."BUFFY & SPIKE
The park was thankfully almost completely empty, allowing the whispering wind to do the chattering as it meandered its way lazily through the leaves of the trees. While the moon, not yet full lit the paths but left black as pitch walls of foliage on either side.
Hearing the soft footfalls behind her Buffy cocked her blonde head and sighed. "Look, Spike come and talk to me if you want. Just stop stalking. It's getting on my nerves." She said loudly, waiting without turning around for him to catch up.
"Can't have that now can we, Pet," retorted Spike facetiously, blonde head gleaming in the moonlight, adding a pale wash to his lean features, a startling contrast to his jewel bright eyes. Seeing them together was like watching two exotic animals circle one another, both lean and impossibly blonde. One dressed in candy pink and the other all black.
"I'm sorry I didn't come and see you," whispered Buffy, turning to face him. "I meant too as soon as the funeral was over." It was lame and she knew it. Slim hands spread wide in helplessness. "You caught me by surprise." It was no excuse; they both knew it and Spike called her on it.
"So it was the shock of seeing me that sent you after Angel then," he sneered. "Pull the other one, Luv. It's got bloody bells on," he finished roughly, then stalked away two paces before turning back to face her with his head held proudly high.
Buffy flinched at the unvarnished truth. Damn, she could never hide things from Spike. She should have remembered that. "I'm sorr-," she started to apologise again but was interrupted.
Spike wasn't finished after-all. He didn't want apologies from her. "We both know that's not what went down" he accused gruffly, and despite himself he desperately wanted to hear her deny it and tell him he was wrong. Blinking back frustrated tears Buffy pursed her lips and shook her head, turning away so he wouldn't see them.
"I know you won't believe me but I'm glad you're here. I wanted you to come, that's why I came out here alone." Her voice throbbed with feeling, most of it conflicting as she felt herself pulled into two directions. She'd needed to see him. She returned his sharp gaze with her own filled with a mute appeal for understanding.
Spike wasn't in the mood for making excuses for her or accepting hers. "Ever heard of picking up the phone," he snarled, "or was that too much like making a public statement that you might actually want to see me?" Buffy ducked her head unable to hold his hotly accusing gaze any longer, weighted down with guilt and confusion.
"I *died* for you Buffy. You! Not the others or the bleedin' world." Spike told her hoarsely catching her gaze again as her head shot up, tears shimmering like a summer lake in those blue depths.
"You told me you loved me," he accused her, remembering that final moment back at the Hell Mouth. He'd known he was going to die and hid his terror of it for her sake. Why he'd bothered was a bloody mystery, he thought savagely.
"I do," answered Buffy in a fervent whisper, raising a tender hand to touch his face, loving him in that moment more than ever simply for needing her to love him back. "I meant it then and-"
Spike caught her hand in his and matching tears sparkled in his own eyes. "Too late, Buffy, I don't think I want it anymore," he shook his head and threw her hand away from him. He'd thought that would never happen, that he'd never be able to turn her away even if all she could offer was scraps. He'd been wrong.
Buffy gasped and shook her head in mute denial of his rough gesture. Oh God! What was going on here? "What are you saying"? She asked swept by a sudden feeling of déjà vu so strong her lips trembled. Feeling it she clamped them shut to hide the betraying response, and folded her arms defensively across her jacketed chest.
Spike made a show of sniffing back and rolling his shoulders. Then picking a spot in the distance focused on his while he draped his re-awoken pride like a mantle over his shoulders, feeling the reassuring weight of it. "I'm saying you should just leave, Buffy". When he looked back at her the pained shock on her face almost had him backing off and changing his mind. No, there was no going back only forwards or nowhere.
It was time, time to regain that part of himself he'd been missing for too long. Pride. "I gave you so many chances to believe in me, like I believed in you. Well I've had it with waiting for you to wake up and smell the roses," he said harshly then went in for the kill.
"I'll tell you something else too. I get why the Wanker made it here in LA. Without you here to drag him down it was bloody bound to happen, and you call me a vampire, when it's you that sucks the life out of people."
"That's not fair," whispered Buffy aghast. "I don't do... that," shivering in sudden cold she hugged her arms around her body and this time she let her lips tremble. "How can you say that?"
"It needed saying," Spike shot back unrepentant, heading away from her with his blonde head shining like a beacon in the dark. Once he was sure he was out of earshot he finally let his shoulders slump. "I hope this bloody works Fred, or you and me are gonna have a talk."
The sweet little Texan's advice still echoed in his head. Take something away and it immediately becomes precious. Everyone knows that, its practically a law of nature or something.THE FG
Wesley was driving, his hands confident and skilled on the wheel as he navigated a series of turns. The black polo neck he'd changed into from his severely tailored suit was a perfect foil for his stoic good looks, and without realising she was doing it Fred's eyes kept straying in his direction.
"Do we know why Angel's called us all back to the hotel?" She asked tiredly, dreading what it could be.
He'd been acting strangely ever since Cordelia's death, with the most abrupt mood swings she'd ever witnessed from the already notoriously unpredictable vampire. Unpredictable to anyone except Cordelia, she tacked on and winced. You'd think with the coma this would be easier, but somehow it just made it so much worse.
"I have no idea," replied Wesley without taking his gaze off the light traffic. LA like any City rarely slept and tonight was no exception. He didn't care to speculate either, not after the argument over Cordelia's lack of proper burial. It still stung and their interactions afterwards had been strained to say the least.
"Our boy's grievin'," piped up Lorne from the back, leaning forward to pat Fred's shoulder. "Just like all of us," he added pointedly to Wesley, and gave the delicate looking girl one last comforting pat.
"I know that and I understand… I do," said Fred shortly, shifting back in the seat and rubbing two fingers between her eyes, wishing the tears induced headache would go away. "I just don't feel up to this, whatever it is," she threw up a hand and sighed thickly.
"The hotel holds too many memories. I don't think I can stand it." She admitted softly, wincing when the outside lights of the nearing hotel sliced into her sore eyes, hardly able to believe how right then the cold glass façade of Wolfram and Hart seemed like a sanctuary from all the pain.
"We're here now; so let's get this over with." Wesley advised decisively as he turned off the ignition and looked at the other two. "I'm sure it won't take long and then I'll get you home again." He assured Fred softly and brushed the back of his hand against her pale cheek, watching the resulting tide of colour follow in his wake.
The three of them trooped slowly up the stairs to the glass doors they'd once felt such comfort in reaching. Ever the gentleman, Lorne pulled one open and held it that way for the other two to pass through. That being so he was the last of them to catch sight of the grinning vampire waiting for them in the lobby.
Gunn was already there, sitting down on one of the numerous hired chairs, staring at Angel in a mixture of wonder and disbelief, while swigging back left over wine like it was cola. He saw the others arrive and shook his dark head at them. "Grab yourselves some drinks, cos you're gonna need it," he warned feelingly.
"Why is this place such a mess?" Fred asked indignantly as her eyes travelled over the landscape now dotted with carnage. She let Wesley lead her over to a chair and sat heavily in it, still wearing her long black tunic style dress and short jacket from the ceremony.
"Oh ignore that," said Angel with a wave of his hand. "That was just Dennis having a pissy fit when Gunn didn't believe me." Angel stopped dead and gave the impeccably suited Gunn a sideways look of confusion. "Did I just say 'pissy fit'?"
"Yeah, you did… and, Man I gotta tell you. You need to cut that out cos it's wiggin' me out." Gunn half pleaded, half threatened and rubbed a hand over his face.
He didn't know about anyone else but the whole idea of what was going inside Angel right now was creepy. He shuddered and tossed back another swallow, wishing it was something stronger.
"Would someone please care to explain what is going on here." Wesley asked, coming forward to pin Angel with a daunting look of disapproval in his now icy blue eyes. "Have you been drinking, Angel"? He spared Gunn a sharp look too and was met with blank indifference and a strong vibe of 'just you wait'.
Angel didn't blink or duck his head and he especially didn't let his eyes flick towards the smashed bottle of whiskey he'd been rather free with earlier on. Briefly he considered lying before dismissing it as a waste of energy. "Yeah, but forget that okay. It's not important."
Wesley looked unconvinced and two of them silently faced off until Lorne jumped in, heralded by a shout of laughter.
"Angelcakes, if the vibes I'm getting off you are anywhere near even remotely accurate. I'd say it's very important; and where the hell can I get *me* some?" Interrupted Lorne, coming closer to stand and stare at the rumpled yet perky looking vampire.
Finished with his inspection the lively green demon cocked his head and gave Wesley a pointed look. "If I were a weatherman I'd say we've just come out of a storm front and into the sunshine, shipmates. He's positively beaming with it."
Scowling at the inappropriate humour, Wesley nevertheless directed his attention back to Angel. "What's happened to you, Angel?" Oh God! What was going on now? He wondered in aggravated disbelief. Did they not even get time to grieve for lost ones before the shit hit the fan all over again?
"If you'd all just shut-up a minute, I'd be able to tell you," growled Angel losing his patience a little and wanting to get the inevitable disbelief over with as soon as possible.
Gunn was thinking the same thing as his nervous dark eyes shot around the room as if looking for evidence of the irate phantom. "Look, Angel you and I both know they ain't gonna believe you, and since my head is already sore. What say we skip straight to Lorne reading you, and try and avoid another demonstration of the ghost with the most?"
As a plan it had merit. "Good idea, Gunn. Lorne-" Angel jerked his head and the green demon sighed and reluctantly headed over, stepping carefully over the broken pottery and crystal littering the floor. "Ya know, Angelmuffin, if you've got an urge to sing there's always the shower." Lorne suggested a mite grumpily for the normally happy go lucky demon.
*"If you sing Mandy I swear I'm gonna regale you with my version of 'Evita' for the rest of the night. Ask Dennis; he loves it,"* Cordy hissed warningly in his head. "I'm not gonna sing Mandy," muttered Angel feeling the others giving him strange looks. If it wasn't for the fact they all needed convincing he'd insist on a private reading. His friend's aversion to his singing was a sore point with him.
"*Thank god for small favours. Keep it short, okay. How about 'twinkle twinkle little star'?"* Cordy suggested seriously, anything for a quick resolution and a swift end to the singing. Then added mischievously, *"and stop pouting. You're total lack of singing ability is the least of your problems."*
Gee thanks, he shot back sarcastically. Then taking in a deep breath, launched into the well-known verse, making even Fred smile incredulously on hearing the nursery rhyme coming out of the vampire's mouth. Lorne goggled at him and within about 10 seconds waved him frantically to silence before stumbling backwards until his ass hit a chair.
Lorne could feel all their eyes on him. Gunn and Angel's knowing and expectant, while Wes and Fred looked like they were braced for bad news. "I need a drink. Gunn, whatever you're having is fine. Just make it snappy okay, Stud".
"What did you see?" Wesley asked, darting a glance at the now relaxed and faintly amused vampire before gazing intently at the anagogic demon.
"Cordelia," said Lorne cryptically then lunging for the proffered glass, he gulped down a large swallow of the burgundy liquor. "Cordelia's soul is inside Angel." He announced into the silence.
Everyone froze, in a tableau not dissimilar to when Lilah had first offered Angel Wolfram & Hart, lock stock and barrel. Only this time the emotional impact was much, much bigger.
"What?" Whispered Fred coming back to life first, "what did you say?" Incredulous disbelief coloured every syllable the second time around, and Gunn gave her a comically scared look. "Don't say you don't believe it. Believe me, you don't wanna to see what happens," he warned darkly and pointed a finger surreptitiously up at the ceiling.
Fred shut her mouth and scanned the decorated expanse warily.
"Okay, say I believe you. Where's Angel's soul?" Wesley asked bluntly, every bit as stunned, only hiding it better while similarly looking around and keeping a sharp look out for flying objects.
"They're both in there. Snug as a bug in a rug. All soul matey and well… the whole kitankaboodle," replied Lorne saluting the dark haired vampire with his glass. "It's getting a bit crowded in there, boss."ALONE AT LAST
"That went well I think." Angel announced, undoing the buttons on his dress shirt, sleeves first as he walked over to the bed. His apartment was shrouded in darkness, the open blinds letting in the only light he needed to see where he was going; or Cordelia for that matter.
*"Hey, you really can see in the dark. Now this is I like. Just think no more stumbling around when you need to use the bathroom."* Cordelia paused as something occurred to her, *"okay, scratch that, and Eww. You don't do you?"*
"Bathroom?" Angel stammered then shook his head hard in relief. "No, no bathrooms needed. Except for showers," he swiftly assured her. That was a whole other thing he realised, as his hand automatically reached for his pants zipper and then froze.
You're over two and half centuries old; get over it. It's just a body, he chided himself. As far as reassurance went it didn't work. This was his body and Cordelia could see everything he did.
*"Angel if we had a circulation we'd be blushing right now. What's up, feeling insecure? Will it help if I promise not to peek?"* The earlier revulsion was gone, replaced by a dawning delight. He could almost hear the wheels spinning as the possibilities occurred to her. *"This time,"* she felt compelled to add impishly.
That prodded his own demon. He smirked and even though she couldn't see a single brow rose in sardonic humour, "penis envy, Cordy?" Quickly he undid the snap and pulled down the zipper, keeping his head up and working by feel alone.
"Too bad, since if I don't look down you don't get to see".
*"Spoilsport,"* she huffed in his head. *"So much for loving me."* She added, going for an all out guilt trip. He was having none of it and sitting down to pull of his boots, answered her with a stern. "I do love you. We talked about this on the way over. Remember?" One boot fell to the floor, quickly followed by the second.
Standing up he shucked his pants and boxers down, kicked them away and then crawled over the bed to clamber under the covers. Comfortable with his head cupped in his hands on the pillow, he stared up at the ceiling, not seeing it but focusing inside. It was all quiet, meaningfully so.
"Not talking to me now?" His lips twitched again, even not seeing her, she was cute when she sulked. He pictured how her bottom lip would push out in a pout and the need to kiss that sullen curve spiked. Soon he promised himself, then tuned back into Cordy as she deigned to speak.
*"Catch ya later, little Guy… and I'm *not* sulking got it?"*
"Little Guy?" He snorted out as the laugh got stuck in the back of his throat. Then coughing to clear it he grinned unabashedly, pleased to be able to feel not a whit of insecurity at her deliberate jib at his masculinity, or supposed lack of.
* "Well a girl's gotta figure that a guy being so shy has something to hide. So until I find out otherwise-"* she taunted leadingly.
Chuckling, Angel snagged a pillow and turned on his side, tucking the plump plain linen of the pillow under his chest and inside the curve of his arm in an effort to satisfy the need to feel something there. All the while wishing it was a curvaceous brunette with a seemingly determined fascination with his equipment.
*"Hey I'm female, gimme a break. It's just natural, healthy curiosity. So keep that ego under control, or I'll start listing how many times I caught you ogling my breasts, ass *and* legs."*
"You have a great ass and even better breasts". He admitted shamelessly. It was different when he didn't have to face her, and despite guessing it would bite him on the ass at some point, he liked being so open with her. "Sometimes how good my day started depended on what shirt you were wearing".
*"Pfft, like I didn't already know you're a closet perv."*
"You don't know the half of it. Now go to sleep." He admonished and closed his eyes; already sinking into the most relaxed slumber he'd had in a long, long time. The deeper he sank the more the anguish of yesterday seeming to fade into obscurity along with his consciousness.MEANWHILE
"One last thing before you leave us, Hamilton. There are rumours about a soul gone astray, as in not turning up at its destination. Find out what you can, and report back without delay."
"Is it the soul we've discussed previously?" A calm voice asked without a trace of nerves.
"It is," was the meaningfully short response.
"Interesting," admitted Hamilton with a faraway look in his cold eyes. "I'll get right on it, Sir. You can count on my discretion. I already have someone in place."
TBC...
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