The Swimsuit Issue. 3

Chapter 3

Cordy looked at herself in the large mirror that hung over the sink in the women’s restroom, her mouth a small ‘O’ at the sight of her reflection. Her almost bare reflection.

Perhaps there should be a sign on the mirror that read Caution: Swimsuits viewed in this mirror are much larger than they appear. Because this…..this was small. This suit was tiny. It was beyond tiny. It was….miniscule. It was a mini-miniscule swimsuit. It was fire-engine red, and consisted of two small triangles hooked together for a top that didn’t even cup her breasts fully, and a small swatch of fabric almost too small to cover her pubic area.

She stared at herself in horror. The back. Oh, god, the back. She turned and looked over her shoulder at her butt. There was no back. Just a small red string that rose from between her ass cheeks and connected to a thin waistband. She had plenty of thong panties in her dresser, and none of them were this revealing.

Holy crap. She couldn’t wear this out in front of all those people who were out there waiting to film. Shit, forget that; she couldn’t be seen like this on television. She had to step out there and tell that pasty director that she wouldn’t…

“Ms. Chase? We’re ready for ya.” The voice on the other side of the door sounded a little impatient. “He wants a lookie before we set the lights. Ya ready?”

Cordelia looked around a little frantically. There was no exit. Nor was there a robe. She was stuck. She looked back at her reflection and sighed deeply, then made a mental note to self to not sigh deeply anymore when her breasts pushed up even further over the top with the movement. She pasted a cheery smile on her face and pulled the door open with a wide sweep. She could do this. She could do this. She could….

Three men arranging lights stopped talking and one poked the other as she walked by. She felt her skin grow warmer as she walked straight to the director, looking at no one else. She could feel all the eyes in the room turning to her when she stepped to the director, tapping him on the shoulder.

He turned to her and looked her up and down critically before motioning her to turn around. Biting her lip she did. She really hated this part. She spun on the stiletto heels and let him see her back, resting her eyes on the crowd of crew people and gawkers.

That guy, the dark one with greasy hair, he was actually licking his lips while he looked at her. Gross. That other guy, the one with the toolbelt and the jeans that rode low and showed a bad moon rising, he was looking straight at her boobs. And that guy, the one with the big black overcoat…the one who looked really ticked.

Holy crap. That guy was Angel.

She sucked in her breath just as her gaze settled on his. He wasn’t staring at her as if he lusted after her. He looked at her as if he lusted after her painful, bloody death. She backed up a step just as he started walking towards her in a slow, measured tread.

His eyes never left hers, and his eyes were rimmed in that gold that told her that his demon was alive and kicking, just under a very fine, sheer surface. He stopped right in front of her and looked down, keeping his hands in his pockets as he thought a moment.

She was naked. All he could hear in his head above the roar of his demon shouting to be let loose was the mantra, she’s naked. She’s naked. She’s naked, and all these men are looking at her. She’s naked and all these men are looking at her and I must now blind each and every one of them. Because she’s naked.

“Hey, buddy….can we help you?” A woman wearing fatigues poked at Angel as she walked up to him. He didn’t even move. His eyes raised up to meet Cordy’s.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, and his gaze never strayed from Cordelia’s pale face. “I just need to speak to my wife here.” A squeak sounded from Cordelia and Angel grinned suddenly, turning to the young woman who stood beside him holding a clipboard.

“Ya know, just worried about her taking too much on, not getting her rest. The baby, you know.” He turned a sappy, puppy grin on Cordelia. “Honey, ya gotta take care.”

The director hustled over to them and looked at Cordy accusingly. “You’re pregnant? No one told me. Because this is the first in a planned series. I need you back. Skinny. Without mom mams.” Cordy winced.

Angel nodded seriously. “I was just worried about her, ya know, taking care of herself….”

The girl with the clipboard looked at Cordy suspiciously. “You’re pregnant? You don’t look pregnant.”

“Yeah” Angel beamed. “She didn’t show early the first five times, either.” Cordy’s eyes narrowed to slits as she tried to get a grip on her temper and think of a way to set the record straight. Angel backed away, holding his hands up.

“Hey, I feel better now. Just wanted to make sure you were, ya know……okay. Not hurling like you were this morning. Boy was that a mess to clean up. Eggs, not pretty going down…even uglier coming up.” He nodded sagely at clipboard girl and ignored Cordelia, who had buried her face in her hands. “Honey, I’m just going home now. Little Tiffany has a cold, gotta take care of her ya know.”

He blew a kiss at her. “Come right home right after, ok? No more bar-hopping for you. That’s why we had to do those DNA tests on the first two.” He blew Cordelia a kiss and disappeared down the back hallway of the restaurant.

Cordelia listened to the absolute silence in the room and finally raised her head to meet the stunned gazes of the dozen or so crew members milling about.

The silence was thick and heavy, and Cordelia felt her last ditch chance at fame slipping away with each ticking minute. She remained absolutely still, and finally looked at the director. He didn’t meet her gaze and leaned over to whisper, “Take care of it” to clipboard girl before turning and walking away.

The young woman looked at Cordelia apologetically and opened her mouth and Cordy raised one hand and said, “No. I know. Don’t worry. I’m going.” She turned and walked back towards the restroom, feeling like she was walking some kind of gauntlet of shame as she felt all eyes now looking at her furtively, as if the words ‘lowlife tramp’ were stenciled on her forehead.

Just as she turned the corner to go to the restroom, the front door of the restaurant opened and she heard Sid, her manager, call her name. Relieved, she turned back to call to him when all of a sudden the world went black as a black cover was thrown over her head.

Startled, she tugged at the cover but was ignored as she was lifted and tossed over a large, hard shoulder and carted off. She tried to call out but a voice growled out “don’t even think about it” and she quickly shut up. That low, cranky, dangerous voice. That was Angel. He had the large, hard shoulder. He was the father of her six nonexistent kids. And apparently, he was her kidnapper.

Cordelia heard a door slam and the sound of shoes slapping concrete. There was a grating metal sound, and then she felt Angel carefully climbing down, balancing her body on his shoulder as he stepped into……

Cordelia groaned. They were going into the freakin’ sewer. Damn it. She was stuck in the sewer with the world’s most clueless dork and she was wearing the smallest swimsuit ever made and stiletto heels. This was bad on so many levels.

They walked a bit and she held still, knowing that squirming and fighting would be useless, because that arm was made of steel and that vampire was really ticked at her. Okay. Okay. She could do this. She could fight the good fight and let him know that he just couldn’t bust into her life and……you know…take over. She sighed. Yeah, that light bulb was never ever gonna go on.

After walking a bit, he stopped suddenly and gently set her down, steadying her as he pulled his coat from over her head. She grabbed it from him and held it to her as he looked impassively down at her.

“Why so shy? Didn’t seem to bother you when a bunch of fat greasy old guys get several eyefuls of all you have to offer. You don’t want me to have the same little slice of joy?”

“Back off, batboy. What is your huge, massive problem? I was leaving. Your little paternal concern worked. I was fired. Wanna tell me what the deal is where you have to pull the pirate routine on me?”

“Sometimes you need to take a little action when someone you care about is being stupid.”

“Yeah? Well, lemme think about that a moment. ‘Cuz I’m pretty sure I should be taking some big ass action on you right about now.”

“Do not push this, Cordelia. I told you before that this wasn’t going to happen again.”

“Hello, not my dad.”

“Hello, don’t care.”

“Aaaaiiiyyyyeeeee” Cordelia’s voice screeched out in echoes down the sewer tunnels. Her face was flushed with anger. She yanked off his coat and threw it down, stomping on it with her heels.

The sound of tearing leather under normal circumstances would have pushed Angel right over the edge. But these weren’t normal circumstances. The woman having the hissy fit was wearing the world’s smallest bikini, unless one was two years old.

Angel could only stare, wordless, as Cordy ranted on.

“I quit! I quit! I’m tired of visions and demon slime, and headaches.” She turned and began to stalk off, and Angel felt his eyes widen till he thought they might pop out of his head. The front was tiny. The back was…..damn. The back was just not there. “I’m freakin’ tired of having the damn chess club for my closest buddies. I’m tired of having no life. I’m tired….”

“Shut up, Cordelia.” His voice was low.

“Shut up yourself, loser. I hate my life. And I hate…”

“Shut up, Cordelia.” She didn’t pay any attention to the fact that his voice was closer, or more desperate sounding.

“….you. I hate you. I hate your damn brooding, and your angsty noble mission, and your stupid black coat.”

“Cordelia…” He grabbed at her arm and spun her around. His voice was a lethal whisper. “I said shut up.” And he yanked her up onto her toes and crushed his lips to hers, taking her mouth in a frenzy of wet heat.

A garbled mmfffff escaped her mouth and disappeared into thin air as his arms wound around her like steel bands, holding her body flush with his. She tottered on her shoes, her arms crushed to her sides by the strength of his grip.

All the anger drained out of her in a swoosh as she lost the ability to think coherently. His mouth….ohgod his mouth. It rubbed and caressed and nipped and his tongue….mercy. Please have mercy. Because that tongue was doing wicked things to her tongue, and she was starting to lose the ability to stand. Time seemed to stand still…till finally, he raised his head slowly and opened his eyes, looking down at hers. She stared back up, her mind a blank.

“Shut up.” He whispered softly.

“OK.” Her voice was a reedy whisper back. They looked at each other. His arms relaxed around her and she stumbled as she stepped back a little, breathing heavily. He looked down at her body and shook his head a little.

“The truth?” His voice was low and contained. She stared at him; those pesky cognitive wheels hadn’t started turning again yet. “The truth, Cordelia, is that I don’t want anyone else seeing that.” He gestured at her body. “Because it’s mine to see and mine alone.”

He waited for the inevitable shriek followed by the probable raising of the knee in anger, but she continued to look at him blankly. “Say something.”

They were both silent for a while. She thought a moment, and then smiled slowly.

She pointed up over the top of her head. “See that?” He looked up, confused. “It’s a big ol’ light bulb, Angel, and it just went on.” Angel looked at her a moment, not getting it.

“Cordelia, I just want…”

She cut him off, grinning at him as she rose up and hooked her arms around his neck, leaning in towards his mouth. “Angel….you shut up.” And he did.

Epilogue

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