Chapter 12
An outsider would have looked at the scene in the lobby of the Hyperion and thought, “Meh.” Woman dusting. Man sitting on couch reading. Man standing at counter reading. Pretty boring and typical if not a bit chauvinistic.
But from Wesley’s position it was a hotbed of angst and cluelessness. The clueless wonder was currently shoving pollen, dead skin cells and dust mites from one bookshelf to the one below it humming merrily out of tune as she worked. The tortured souled one was pretending to read the same page he’d been on for the past thirty minutes while surreptitiously watching the skirt cling and mold to Cordy’s ass as she bent over. Periodically he’d shift in his seat in discomfort.
Wesley recognized the hopeless, haunted look in Angel’s gaze. He saw it every morning in the mirror. Steel gray irises as cold and lifeless as Angel’s undead body reflecting the life he’d stopped living the moment he realized Fred was out of his reach.
The voice of his father had been loud in his thoughts during the past months. Reminding him every so often like the drip of a leaky faucet how unworthy he was. How his very existence was an error and the life he lived merely emphasized that mistake over and over again.
This afternoon, as he studied Angel, he became more and more amazed at the men both he and Angel had become. He once trembled in this vampire’s presence, even the mention of his name made him squeeze his muscles to keep from wetting himself. Now he imagined all he had to do was say “boo” and Angel would fall off the couch in a morose heap.
Staring at the lovesick man in front of him Wesley decided one thing: he was getting damned tired of looking like that. And just like that it clicked. Angel loved Cordelia more than life itself and had earned a right to brood at her loss. Wesley didn’t feel that way about Fred. She was beautiful and sweet and someone he could imagine loving deeply, but he didn’t. He didn’t lose the love of his life; he only lost a chance at it.
The agonizing trickle of his father’s criticisms quieted until they were mumbled whispers. The revelation was like a loud, reverberating bang of a tympani that cleared the cobwebs and freed up space in his head that had been filled with sheer nonsense. He felt light and invigorated and strangely like he wanted to dance. Odd.
The front doors burst open and the sound of a giggling Fred and her adoring boyfriend entered. Wesley’s new attitude faltered slightly at the sight of Gunn wiping taco sauce from her chin and letting her lick it from his finger.
As Gunn pressed his lips to hers and pulled back saying, “Mmm, hot and spicy,” Wesley’s head jerked back at the scene playing out before him. Then he smiled in earnest when he realized the feeling that welled inside wasn’t jealousy but honest disgust at having to witness their sappy public display of affection.
“Really, Fred, Gunn. This is an office and you’re meant to be working. Please refrain from…touching…in such an unprofessional manner during business hours. We might have had clients.”
Fred dipped her head guiltily and Gunn eyed Wesley threateningly. He was about to open his mouth no doubt to tell Wes where he could shove his opinion when the corner of Wesley’s mouth curved up and he winked. Gunn let out a sigh, returned the gesture of peace with his own nod of understanding, and squeezed Fred’s hand. She looked up at their smirking boss and the smile returned to her face twice as brilliantly as before.
Coming up from behind Wesley, Cordy punched his arm saying, “Come on, Wes. Give them a break. They’re young, in love, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, music is in the air, and I’m making myself sick now.”
“You and me both,” Gunn said as he tugged Fred to the pouf and sat draping an arm over her shoulder. “So, how was the big date with the midget millionaire? Are you engaged yet or did you just have him sign over all his assets to you and skip the pesky marriage/divorce ritual?”
Angel snorted and then cleared his throat, gluing his eyes back to the page that he’d yet to read even once. However, his ears were all ears. He’d been dying to talk to Cordelia about Nabbit but alone. He hadn’t wanted Wesley to give him that look that told him to just back off even though he knew he should. He’d made his decision and he was going to stick to it, but that didn’t mean he could just sit back and not know what was going on. It would kill him to know and kill him not to know. He was dead either way.
“Har-de-har-har,” Cordy said. “That’s really funny. I’ll have you know, David asked if he could give me everything he owned, begged me in fact. But, seeing as I’ve grown as a person and I’m not the selfish, materialistic girl I once was, I only accepted half.” She stuck her tongue out at Gunn and hobbled to her desk depositing the dust cloth and can of Pledge in her bottom drawer.
She slammed the drawer and said, “I’ll get the other half tonight.”
“That’s the Barbie I know and love.” Gunn winked and pulled Fred in tighter.
“Really,” Cordy continued, “we had a great time. We ate and talked and talked. He was really quite charming once we got past his fascination with Chubaca and C3PO.”
Angel couldn’t help looking at her questioningly at that, but he refrained from commenting. Wesley, however, didn’t.
“So I guess you’ve gotten over that need to be with a man with an actual personality. You really have grown.” The memory of their talk in the park about prostituting herself to David Nabbit replayed in his mind and he couldn’t help the warm, teasing expression that followed.
“Says the man who can’t string two sentences together without injecting something about demons with six breasts,” Cordy said returning the taunt.
“They’ve got those?” Gunn asked. Fred punched him in the ribs. “Ow, girl, I was just askin’. Not like I was going to date one.”
“You’d better not. I may not be able to hurl an ax hard enough to split a hair, but my momma taught me how to use scissors.” Fred used her fingers to imitate cutting something near his crotch and Gunn brought his hand down to his fly protectively.
Deciding a change in topic was best, he asked Cordy, “So, where you two crazy kids off to tonight?”
A look passed between Cordy and Fred unseen by Angel as he insisted on pretending to read rather than feign interest in the dating conversation. Cordy crossed to the other side of the counter and leaned back against it opposite Wesley. Fred nodded signaling her to get on with it.
“Well, Gunn, I’m glad you brought that up. I have a little problem that I’m hoping one of you will help me with.”
Wesley looked up concerned. “What is it? You know we’ll do anything we can to help. Are you not feeling well?”
“No, I’m fine, Wes. It’s…well…it’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Well, that’s nothing new, is it?” Wesley’s eyes twinkled as he ribbed Cordy like he used to. He looked at Angel, his head still down and his whole body practically folded in, and the sparkle fizzled.
Cordy saw the change and where Wesley was looking when it happened. Undeterred, she continued. “That’s cute, Wes, and I’d dazzle you with my clever retort if I weren’t desperate for your help. Unless, of course, Gunn will do it.”
“Do what?”
“Go out with me, David and this…other woman…tonight. Like a double date. She’s some CEO or GTO of a company they’re thinking of buying.”
“GTO is a car,” Angel mumbled to his book.
“Whatever,” Cordy said. “He wants me there to take some of the pressure off of conversing with her. He’s still pretty shy with women and doesn’t want to blow this deal. But I thought if I could get her a date, then David and I could have some time to ourselves plus she wouldn’t feel like a third wheel. So, what do you say, Fred? Can I borrow your boyfriend?”
“Whoa, why you askin’ her? I’m right here and still my own man last time I checked,” Gunn said.
Fred pierced him with her glare and brought her fingers to his face making the scissors motion again. “Snip, snip.”
“Ya know if I didn’t love you so much and if I wasn’t secure in my manhood, I’d have to go just to spite you. But I won’t play with you like that, so,” he turned back to Cordy, “I guess Wes will have to pinch hit for me.”
Wes was about to respond when Fred piped up. “Wes can’t do it.”
“I can’t?” he asked.
“No. Remember tonight’s the only night we can catch that ancient artifacts exhibit at the Getty. You really wanted a chance to see that Moravian Beshchal Dagger.”
“Oh, yes. It is the only one left in existence and will probably be my only chance to study it. I am sorry, Cordy, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“I understand.” She sighed and then looked at Angel. “I guess that leaves you.”
All eyes zoomed to the stone-faced creature on the couch. Angel had been listening but hadn’t done the math quickly enough. If Gunn was out and Wesley couldn’t do it, then the only male left in the room was…
“Me?” His eyes shot up and widened in shock.
“Yeah, you. Unless you want me to take Fred and turn her into a big ol’ lesbo.”
“Lesbo? Fred?” Angel couldn’t remember if Fred was a boy or a girl for second.
**I love when my girl gets naughty. If anyone can turn Fred into a muff diver, my Cordy can.**
Fred’s not…Cordy wouldn’t…I hate you.
“Don’t change the subject. You are going out with us tonight. You owe me.” Cordy’s hands gripped her hip and her one good foot tapped loudly.
“What? I? But…” Angel floundered. He did owe her for all the vision pain, all the times she’d almost died just because she knew him, all the times he’d almost killed her himself, for the life and friends he had that she’d forced him to accept and now couldn’t live without, and for the second chance at love he never thought he’d have.
He owed her that normal life with that normal guy. He owed her everything.
But did he have to kill himself to do it? What could he say? I can’t go. I can’t watch you flirt with another man. I can’t make conversation with someone I don’t know or care about while the one person I love prostitutes me so she can get laid by someone not me. It will kill me. Don’t ask me.”
“Please. For me.” She didn’t whine. She didn’t pout. She just asked.
“What time?” He died and she squealed.
Newton’s second law of motion
For an unbalanced force acting on a body, the acceleration produced is proportional to the force impressed; the constant of proportionality is the inertial mass of the body.
Sheila was definitely an unbalanced force. She was top heavy having graduated Magna Cum Laude from the Dolly Parton School of Breasts and Cleavage. And Angel’s body was being impressed repeatedly by the woman who currently rubbed herself against his arm. Cordy was afraid if she had been an old friend and had hurled those melons into him at a run, he would be impressed all the way to the moon.
And she was blonde. Perfect.
Cordy tried to remind herself what exactly she was thinking when she came up with this part of her brilliant plan and why she had insisted that David bring along someone just like this. Why, exactly, was putting Angel in the arms of a blonde bimbo going to make him confess his love for her?
Sheila giggled and snorted at something Angel said.
Oh, yeah. That’s the reason. Angel may like blondes and breasts, but he hates silly women and men for that matter and especially spending time with them. He’d be getting a double whammy tonight. One, he’d have to spend the evening watching she and David getting closer and, two, he’d be reminded just how special she is compared to the woman drooling all over him. Before the night was over he’d break.
Cordy watched Sheila slide her arm around Angel’s and squeeze him as she plopped her ratted, overly starched head against his arm. He looked pretty much like a monkey surrounded by hungry lions and fire. The nerve under his left eye started twitching.
Oh, yeah. There will be serious vampire breakage happening tonight, she thought.
“So, are we ready to go?” David asked.
“Cordy!” Angel’s voice sounded a bit like a mouse squeak. “Could I speak with you a minute first?” He tried to calmly disentangle himself from Sheila’s nails before practically dragging the handicapped Cordy into the farthest corner of the landing.
Luckily for Angel’s ego the hotel was empty. Wesley, Gunn and Fred had already left for the Getty and the artifacts exhibit sparing Angel their mocking giggles and snide comments. It pained him to even imagine the teasing he would have faced the next day if they had been here to witness this.
“Angel, what’s your deal? You’re being very rude.” Cordy swatted his hand away from her arm.
“I know I said I’d do this, but damn it, Cordy, I’ll never make it. Who is this person anyway?”
They both looked over their shoulders at Sheila who was now talking to David and not surprisingly David had that same frightened monkey expression.
“See! Even David’s about to lose it and he’s not…you know…a vampire with a demon that right this moment could easily crush her windpipe.”
**Speak for yourself. I’d at least take a fang dive into those tits first. After I ripped her tongue out of course. Her voice is fucking irritating.**
Cordy had to stifle a giggle. “Angel, calm down. I know she seems a bit high on the floozy meter…”
“High? She shot off the top of that one five minutes ago and is soaring off the dumbbell charts now.”
“She’s not stupid. David said she’s got a masters degree in computer something-or-other like I care. She’s just got a bubbly personality, and she’s probably just excited to be going out with someone as handsome as you.”
Whatever he was about to say got stuck in his throat. Angel suddenly grinned. “You really think I’m handsome?”
Cordy slapped his arm. “Stop fishing for compliments. You know you’re gorgeous, now let’s go please. And remember just be yourself. No woman can resist you at your brooding, dorky best. Especially the blonde variety.”
“You seem to resist pretty well,” he mumbled quietly as she tugged at his sleeve to drag him back toward the others. But she still heard.
“Yeah, I’m the one-in-a-million exception.”
Just my luck.
As they approached their dates at the door, David’s face lit up. “Cordelia!” It was the greeting of a desperate man needing rescue. “Now are we ready to go?”
“Yes, David, we’re ready. We were just clearing up a few details on a case we finished today.”
“A case?” Sheila asked, her arm already curled around Angel’s again. “How interesting. Is it something you can tell us about or is it too hush-hush secret?” She cooed and looked up at him from her clingy position at his side and batted her false eyelashes until a soft breeze reached his cheek.
Angel let out a whimper and looked at Cordy with eyes that begged her for a reprieve from this hell. She granted none.
“Yes, it’s very secrety or else we’d be happy to share the thrill that is our lives. Wouldn’t we, Angel?” Cordy yanked her head in Sheila’s direction a few times giving him the international signal for him to say something to her. Luckily, this time, he actually got it.
“Right,” Angel said. “We can’t really discuss our cases, client privilege and all that. Why don’t you tell us what you do?” Angel somehow managed to divest his arm of hers and placed his palm on her back to push her toward the door.
Cordy nodded her approval and stepped forward after them.
“Don’t you need your crutches?” David asked noticing their absence and holding the door open for her.
“No, I’m officially off the crutches. Just another few weeks of bobbing around in this cast and then I’m a free woman again.”
Angel heard the conversation behind him and shot over his shoulder, “I’ve already called all the shoe stores in the Beverly Center just to give them fair warning.”
Cordy was tempted to stick her tongue out, but remembered she was supposed to be charming and sophisticated Cordy tonight so she just harumphed instead.
David bravely ventured to defend her honor. “That was considerate of you, Angel. But I’m sure she’d prefer shopping at the source. How does a trip to Italy sound?”
Angel had just helped Sheila into the limo and turned to see Cordy clasp her hand in David’s and kiss him on the cheek.
“My hero,” she said and smiled while he blushed.
Angel sighed and turned back to the open car door to slide in. There Sheila waited trying her best to be seductive and patting the leather seat next to her. Suddenly an image of Darla at the tavern the night he was turned flashed in his mind and he felt sick. His whole life passed before his eyes and every bad thing that had ever happened in his life could be traced to one source.
I hate blondes.