Part 3
The next day…
“I’m just saying,” Angel said, tapping his chin and trying to sound both pensive and ominous. “It’s too quiet.”
“Come on Angel,” Cordy groaned, from where she was changing Connor’s diaper. “Sure we haven’t had to stake or decapitate anything in the past 48 hours. And yes, I haven’t had any mind-numbingly painful visions as of late. But that just means it’s quiet. That doesn’t mean it’s TOO quiet,” Cordelia clarified, without looking up, as she quickly taped down the sides of the new diaper.
Angel watched, admiring the efficiency. She’s really getting good at that. Actually, everyone in the hotel was getting good. He smiled, remembering their first clumsy attempts at diapering.
Fred, the only one of them with any babysitting experience whatsoever, had given a brief tutoring session. Angel had secretly practiced, in the wee small hours of the morning while his new son slept, diapering and undiapering a doll he’d found in the attic. Wes had studied the instructions on the diaper package for a good twenty minutes.
Gunn had given up on the traditional approach after a couple tries—choosing to simply duck tape the diaper on. And as usual, Cordelia had acted like she knew what she was doing. But Angel had found the passages she’d highlighted in the baby book.
“What exactly is ‘too quiet’ supposed to mean, anyway,” Gunn asked, as he walked over to the counter they stood behind holding a giant bag of takeout food and sucking on an enormous Super Big Gulp.
“I mean, the only time you ever hear it is on TV. It’s like, ‘oooh, it’s too quiet, Scully’ and then ‘you’re right Mulder, clearly the presence of silence means we’re in grave danger’. Whatever man,” Gunn shook his head and put the bag on the counter. “Too quiet. Do real people even say that?”
“I don’t know about real people, but cranky bloodsuckers who are intent on ruining other peoples night sure do,” Cordy replied as she finished snapping up the baby’s onsie.
“I am not cranky. And could you ix-nay the lud-sucker-bay talk in front of Connor?” Angel whined as he poured two cups of coffee.
Cordelia ignored his complaint. “Does it feel chilly down here?” she asked, rooting through the diaper bag. “Where’s the—”
“Here,” Angel cut her off, passing her Connor’s tiny hat.
“Thanks,” Cordy smiled and turned back to his son.
Out of the corner of his eye, Angel saw Gunn smirk. What is so funny? Is it my hair? I bet it’s my hair. Everyone makes fun of my hair, but do they ever actually tell me when something’s wrong? NO. They just let me walk around like a jackass.
Angel lightly patted at the gelled spikes. “Now, about me trying to ruin other peoples night…” he said, hoping to distract Gunn from whatever was making him smirk like that.
Cordy slipped the hat on Connor’s head and then turned back to the other two men. “Don’t deny it. You’re trying to make trouble again Angel.” She put both hands on her hips and gave him a teasing glare.
Angel put the coffee pot down and wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. Even when Cordelia’s glare was teasing it was still a tad…intimidating. And more than a tad arousing. “I just don’t see what the big deal is.”
Angel frowned at the whininess in his voice but went on. “It’s just one night,” he reminded them. “Having seen more than my fair share of New Years, they’re pretty much all the same.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. Angel busied himself adding some Equal to Cordy’s coffee and two sugars to his. Gunn shrugged and slurped loudly on his Big Gulp, bracing himself for another session of what Fred liked to call Angel and Cordelia’s Adventures in Flirtatious Banter.
Leaving Connor, Cordy walked over to where Angel stood. “New Year’s Eve is a very important night,” she informed him as she draped a cloth over his left shoulder.
“Sure it is Cordy,” Angel said, leaning down and getting in her face. “It’s an important night for bartenders to jack up their prices.”
“Listen buddy,” Cordelia said, leaning up and getting in his face right back. “I’ll have you know, how you spend New Year’s Eve determines the next 365 days of your life.”
“That’s crazy,” he retorted. Cordelia snorted and stuck out her tongue. In reply, Angel vamped out and crossed his eyes. Gunn spit Pepsi all over the counter and Cordy couldn’t contain her giggles. She clucked him on the chin and went back over to the baby.
“You’re daddy’s a gigantic goofball, you know that, don’t you Connor?” she crooned, scooping him up and running a finger over his tiny perfect eyebrow. Shaking off the bumpiness, Angel stared at the pretty picture they made until she started back over to him. He busied himself adding cream to her coffee.
“I just changed him,” she said, as they handed off the baby. Angel was supremely conscious of every brush of her skin on his. The way her hand, caught for a second between his chest and Connor’s wiggly body, pressed up against where his heart should be beating. “He took most of his bottle,” Cordy put her hand on Angel’s shoulder, “so all he needs from Daddy is a burp.”
From the other side of the counter, Gunn set his drink down and let out a burp that seemed to bounce off the Hyperion’s walls like an echo. Cordy cringed, gave Angel a quick squeeze and headed for the kitchen.
He leaned down to his son’s ear and pointed across the counter at Gunn. “Did you hear that Connor? Say ‘thank you Uncle Gunn’ for showing you how burping’s really done.” Connor gave a wet gurgly smile.
Gunn grinned and waved. “Anytime little man, anytime,”
Angel shifted the baby to his left side and with his free hand, he started to unpack the food “Isn’t Fred eating dinner?” he inquired, automatically handing the biggest carton to his friend.
Gunn shook his head. “She told me she was too nervous to eat. This is the first time she’s really stepped out, since, you know…”
“Her five-year vacation in Hell” Angel filled in.
“Exactly,” Gunn said, leaning over and snagging a plastic fork. “Fred headed upstairs around four and told me not to expect her until sometime after eight.”
Angel absently patted Connor’s back. “Well, does she, you know, need any help getting ready?”
“Are you offering?” Gunn asked, leaning back in his chair and glaring at the vampire. He sounded more than a little upset at the prospect of Angel helping Fred get dressed. He almost sounded…jealous.
“No. No, not me,” Angel sputtered. “I meant I could send Cordy up.”
Thoroughly pacified, Gunn went back to his Hunan Shrimp. “Naw, Cordy’s done enough. Did you see that dress she picked out for Fred to wear tonight?”
“No. Is it nice?”
It must have been nice, because Gunn stopped eating. “Sure it’s nice. What there is of it,” Gunn grumbled good-naturedly.
“Hey, it beats the hell out of burlap,” Cordelia shouted from the door to the kitchen. Then the microwave beeped from the other room and she disappeared again.
“It is pretty hot,” Gunn conceded once it was just the two of them. “Girl is gonna be seriously smokin’ tonight.” Gunn looked contemplative and excited and just a teeny bit nervous. He looked the way Angel felt when Cordy went through that micro-mini skirt phase. Which meant…
“Gunn, are you—”
Gunn nervously popped out of his chair. “Sooo, lets get the rest of this food unpacked. Wes said to just put his in the fridge, uh, so, uh, which of this is Cordy’s?” He was clearly trying to change the subject. He likes her. Gunn has a crush. On Fred. But he’s so… And she’s so… Angel did understand his reluctance to discuss it. God knows he hated people prying in his love-life.
Angel struggled to contain his smile. “The rice and the sweet and sour soup are Cordy’s,” he said quietly. Gunn nodded and gave him a look, silently thanking him for not pressing the matter. Are we having a moment? I think Gunn and I might be having a moment.
Cordelia walked out of the kitchen holding a steaming mug. “So are we still discussing how great Fred’s going to look tonight?” she asked.
Angel glanced quickly at Gunn’s panicked face. “Nope, nope,” he said. “We, uh, we were talking about…Gunn’s outfit. He’ll be wearing, uh, pants, with, you know, a shirt.” She gave him a quizzical look. “Pretty exciting, huh?”
Cordelia tapped her foot and raised an eyebrow. “And you are oddly concerned about Gunn’s apparel why?”
Angel nervously bounced the baby. How come one tiny lie always resulted in a million more tiny lies? When am I going to learn? Don’t lie to Cordelia.“Uh, what’s so odd about it? You know I have an interest in fashion.”
“Yeah. Sure. How could I forget?” Cordy deadpanned, setting the cup down in front of Angel. “Here you go, 98.6. Just the way you like it.” She paused for a second and then grinned up at him. “Saying that, that should bother me more shouldn’t it? You know you’ve been in the business too long when you’re nuking your boss’s blood and you don’t blink an eye.” She giggled and moved to open the food Gunn placed in front of her.
Angel wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that. First she’d smiled at him and he’d come THAT close to dropping the baby. It was that easy comfortable, super-wide smile of hers. She really shouldn’t flash that baby without giving me some warning.
And then, what she had said. About the blood not bothering her. Down boy. Don’t get too excited. Just cause heating up pigs blood doesn’t make her want to yak, that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t mind dating a creature of the night. That doesn’t mean she’d accept me in her life like that. In her body like that. Angel gave a small shiver at that thought. Being with Cordelia like that was almost painful to imagine. He felt warmer just standing next to her. Being inside her…that would be like diving into a volcano. Okay, I really can’t be thinking these things. Not now. Not while we’re eating dinner with Gunn. And not with her going out tonight to do God knows what without me. And certainly not while I’m burping Connor. There’s something elementally wrong with getting an erection while holding a baby.
Cordy was staring disappointedly at her plain white rice. She still hadn’t sat down and now it looked like she didn’t even want to. I told her she would regret trying to diet. I told her it wouldn’t matter, cause the most she could lose in 24 hours was a few ounces. I told her that she didn’t need to lose any weight, that she looked fine. Okay, I didn’t say fine. I said proportional. But still.
Angel could only watch as Cordelia carefully eyed Gunn and all the food in front of him. She’s clearly plotting something. Should I warn him? Nahhh. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. Still patting his son on the back, Angel leaned against the counter and sipped at his blood. She really does know how to heat this up to the absolute perfect temperature.
Suddenly Cordy’s hand snaked out, reaching for one of Gunn’s egg rolls. But Gunn years defending the streets of Los Angeles had given him remarkably quick reflexes. He stabbed the top of her hand with his plastic fork.
“Oh no you didn’t. You did not just make a grab for my food,” Gunn cried out. “Tryin’ to put those grubby paws of yours on my dinner.” He shook his head.
Cordelia clutched at the offending paw. “Gunn! I’m not grubby.” She pouted. “Please. I just want one egg roll.” She started inching her hand closer.
Gunn moved his food further away from her. “Don’t even try it Cordy. That quivery lip thing only works on Captain Cannibal over there. Ask him to share!”
They both turned to Angel, who simply lifted his mug in Cordelia’s direction. She waved it off with an “Ughhh” and turned back to Gunn. “Please,” she whined, clasping her hands together as if in prayer.
Gunn looked to Angel. “Give me a hand here?”
Angel ignored the request. “You know, technically Gunn, I’m not a cannibal. Cannibals eat people. I drink blood. And it’s not even people blood anymore,” he eagerly pointed out, setting the cup full of non-people blood back on the counter.
Gunn blew out a puff of air in exasperation. “Bro. Focus. Make her leave me alone.”
Thinking they were suitably distracted, Cordelia was preparing to lunge across the counter again when Angel’s hand came down, solidly clasping her shoulder. “Cordy, stop tormenting Gunn,” he ordered, pushing her down into the chair. “If you’re hungry, eat YOUR food.” Cordelia mumbled something about how Gunn needed to watch his back, but eventually relaxed and reached for her fork.
“Angel, can you—”
He set the soy sauce down in front of her before she was halfway through with her request.
“All right, that’s it,” Gunn said loudly, drawing confused glances from both Angel and Cordy. “It’s official. You two are spending WAY too much time together.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Angel asked. If anything, we don’t spend enough time together. If I had my way, she would live here, at the hotel. I don’t like her living across town. Okay, it’s six minutes away, with traffic, but still… I don’t trust that Dennis anymore. Lately I’ve been getting the feeling that he’s been looking at her. When he shouldn’t be. Not that I resent a dead guy getting whatever action he can. Just not with her.
“Yeah, what is that supposed to mean?” Cordy seconded the question, before reaching up around Angel’s neck and tucking his tag back under his shirt.
“That!” Gunn pointed. “It means stuff like that. And how you both keep knowing what the other person wants before they ask. That’s creepy.”
Cordy swallowed her rice. “That’s not creepy.”
Angel nodded. “That’s nothing.”
“Okay. Fine. But what about how you carry lipstick and hair bands in your coat pockets for her?” Gunn exclaimed. Angel looked down. It wasn’t something he was proud of.
“His coat has bigger pockets!” Cordy shouted. “So what?”
“And you,” Gunn turned to her. “You, who got a Christmas card from the butcher. The butcher Cordelia!” She just shrugged.
“So?” Angel asked. Harvey sent her a Christmas card? I’m the one who PAYS for the blood. She just stops in and picks it up now and then. But do I get a card? Of course not. Nobody thinks about wishing the vampire Happy Holidays.
Gunn got a serious look on his face. “You’re starting to dress alike,” he said solemnly, wagging his plastic fork at them.
Cordy and Angel immediately turned to each other. Okay, so we’re both wearing black pants and light blue tops. But everyone wears black pants. That’s probably the most popular pants color. And her shirt is one those tiny clingy ones. And it has a V-neck. Mine doesn’t have a V-neck. Hey. That V-neck goes down really far. Angel started to casually angle his head to get a better look down said V-neck, but then he caught Gunn watching him.
“We are not dressed alike!” Angel retorted.
Yeah Gunn,” Cordy said . “You’re crazy.”
Gunn pushed the now-empty carton of food away. “Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt kids. Well, I’m done. I need to head home. Go get pretty for tonight.” He stood up and brushed off his clothes. “You two have fun tonight.” He leaned over and gave Cordelia a smacking kiss on the lips. “Happy New Year.”
“Right back atcha,” she told him.
Gunn leaned over toward Angel, who raised his hand to ward him off. “We can skip the kiss,” Angel stated.
“Your loss bro,” Gunn called out as he walked away. “Y’all be good,” he called out as he closed the door behind him.
For a while they just sat there, not talking. Angel rubbed soft circles on the baby’s back and finished his blood. Cordy sipped unobtrusively at her soup.
It wasn’t their usual comfortable silence. Angel couldn’t stop thinking about what Gunn had said. Cordy looked like she was still processing it too. There was a strained, almost-tension in the air as they let their friend’s words sink in.
He was right, Angel thought. We do spend a lot of time together. And maybe we have changed a little. Shaped each other. Angel wasn’t unpleased with this theory. It gave him something he hadn’t had since he began looking at Cordelia in new and confusing ways. It gave him hope.
Suddenly Connor let out a loud belch, bringing them back from their respective reveries and making them laugh.
“I don’t think Gunn knows what he’s talking about,” Cordy said.
“I know,” Angel agreed, “just because we both look good in blue?”
“So what?”
“Exactly,” Angel told her. He moved away, placing Connor gently in the bassinet. He tucked the blanket more securely around the baby. “So, are you still going out with those girls tonight?” he asked, not looking at her.
“Marissa and Jessie are not ‘those girls’ and yes, we’re still going out.”
“Sure you don’t want to stay here?” Angel wheedled. “You could watch the ball drop. And there’s gonna be a ‘Three Stooges’ marathon on and—”
“I hate the ‘Three Stooges,” Cordelia interjected.
“And we won’t be watching them,” Angel smoothly covered his error. “Instead we could—”
“Angel,” Cordy started playing with the paper napkin that had been sitting on her lap. “I’m going out,” she told him. He walked over to her and she twisted on her stool to face him.
“You know you won’t really have any fun.”
“Oh really?” She raised a lone eyebrow.
“Really,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’ll regret it all tomorrow. You’ll get stumbling drunk and stain your dress and make-out with some dorky orthodontist.” Who I will then have to hunt down and kill.
“Hey, do you know how much money orthodontists make?” Cordelia joked, fumbling more with the napkin.
Angel stepped closer, boxing her in, so he was almost standing between her legs. “Cordyyy,” he drawled.
“Angellll,” she shot back.
Their heads were so close their noses were almost touching. Their lips were almost kissing. He felt when she realized it too. She blinked and stiffly leaned back, bracing her hand against his chest. Erecting a barrier between them. There goes that hope I was feeling earlier.
“Angel, seriously, tonight, it is important. To me. I want to start the new year right,” she explained.
“Exactly,” Angel said, taking a small step back but keeping his eyes fixed on hers. “What’s more right than ringing in the year with the people you…with your family?”
Cordy looked down at the shredded napkin in her lap. “Angel, don’t get me wrong. I love my life. My job. You guys. But…”
“But what?” Angel really wished she would look at him. If she’s going to tell me why I’m not enough, she should at least look me in the eye. Look at me!
She granted his unspoken command. “But…I’m tired of being alone. I’m not like you, I’m not good at it.” Angel desperately wanted to interrupt. She’s not alone. She has me.
“I’m tired of not having anyone to hold my hand during the scary part of the movie. I’m tired of no one even asking me to go to the movies,” Cordelia went on. I asked her to the movies. I invited her to go see “Lord of the Rings” opening night. She told me she’d rather change her name to Buffy. Women.
“Angel, I’m tired of nodding like I understand when my friends talk about having incredible sex all night long. Cause then there’s me, whose last fling was two years ago and ended up getting me pregnant with demon puppies. I’m tired of…I just need more.” Uncomfortable with sharing so much, Cordelia stood up and slid out of the space between Angel and the counter. She grabbed her food and threw it in the trash.
She wanted more? Angel could give her more. More what though? Sure my soul’s permanent, so we could make love. But that doesn’t change anything. I’m still a vampire. Still raising a child I created with my evil lover. I’m still the reason she gets visions that, one day, are going to destroy her.
He watched her, as she peeked into the bassinet. Her face softened. Her eyes brightened. Lines from pain and exhaustion faded as she looked down at Connor.
Cordelia caught him staring but she didn’t say anything, she just smiled, before leaning down and brushing a soft kiss on the child’s forehead. She walked back over to where Angel still stood, frozen.
“You’ll be okay, right? Tonight? Alone?” Cordelia gazed up at him questioningly. “I don’t want you starting off 2002 brooding.”
Angel wasn’t sure how to respond. He knew he’d be okay. He’d spent so many years alone. What was one more night? But I don’t want to just be okay. Okay’s not good enough, not anymore.
He hadn’t answered her and Cordelia looked concerned. “I mean, if you really want me to stay, you know, just say the word.”
She would. He knew that. Cordelia had already proven she would sacrifice just about anything for them. She talked big. She could be abrasive and snotty. She had a healthy amount of self-interest. But Angel knew, when it came right down to it, that Cordy put the welfare and happiness of her family above her own. She would stay if he wanted.
He wanted her to stay. He wanted her to stay and to never leave. He wanted her there, in the dark with him, forever and for always. But that’s too much to ask. And so is this. It was, after all, just one night. She deserved a night of normal.
“Angel? Just say the word,” Cordy repeated softly.
“Go,” he told her, trying for an air of nonchalance. “Have fun.”
She bit down on her bottom lip, studying him. “Are you sure?”
“Sure I’m sure,” Angel said, steering her towards the door. Why bother to prolong the inevidable? “Me and Connor have big plans. Boys Night In. Just me, him, and Dick Clark.” He opened the door. “Now look at the time. Clock is ticking. You need to start getting ready. I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”
Cordelia stopped in the door way and looked back over her shoulder at him. “I’ll stop by to check on you before I meet—”
“Don’t bother. I told you, we have plans. We might even pop open a bottle at midnight,” he ad-libbed, putting his hand on the small of her back and pushing her forward.
She braced her hand against the doorframe, impeding his progress. “Champagne?” Cordy asked, still craning her neck around to see him.
“Formula,” he corrected and pushed her out the door.
Once outside, she turned around to look at him with a cute, perplexed little half-smile. The setting sun behind her stood in stark contrast to the Hyperion, which suddenly seemed dim and dark in comparison.
“Angel are you—”
“Good. Great. Have fun tonight. Bye,” he babbled and quickly shut the door.
“Okay?” he heard her say from outside. Angel waited by the door, listening until she finally walked away. He ambled vacantly around the lobby. It hadn’t been easy, pushing Cordelia away like that.
It won’t be any easier tonight. It’s not like I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’ll give Connor a bath, obsess over whether Cordy’s safe, change a few diapers, compulsively check my cell phone, give the baby a bottle, obsess more, and then put the baby to bed. Whereupon I will brood until midnight, watch the ball drop, and then brood some more.
Angel flashed back to something Cordelia had said earlier.
“I’ll have you know, how you spend New Year’s Eve determines the next 365 days of your life.”
I don’t know if I can take another year of this.