Part 15
4:40 a.m., Saturday
Time seemed to stand still as Cordelia stared into Angel’s eyes, his fingers caressing her in the most intimate of places. Her breath stopped, her eyes widened, and her mind argued with itself. What he was doing to her felt so unbelievably good that she never wanted it to stop. But at the same time, a very insistent voice inside her head screamed, “He doesn’t love you!!”
That voice threatened her entire existence.
Angel saw the panic in the beautiful hazel eyes looking back at him and he knew he had some serious explaining to do. Up until now, every move he’d made on her had been under pretense, part of their scheme to fool her mother. He knew that his overtures had become genuine, but she didn’t.
He didn’t have time to explain. Before he could open his mouth to declare his intentions, Cordelia shoved his hand away and bolted out of the bed. She backed away from him slowly, heading for the bathroom door. He lunged after her, trying to grab her shoulders and get her to face him.
She jerked away from him, escaping. Her face was tortured, her eyes brimming. “Don’t touch me, Angel. Please, just–” she paused, a tear spilling, tracking a course down her flushed cheek. “I can’t take it if you keep touching me. I can’t do this.”
Cordelia’s mind was in turmoil, thoughts swirling around like hurricane force winds. The one thought that kept echoing back, the strongest feeling she had, was that he was playing her. He didn’t love her; he loved Buffy. He may be attracted to her, and he may want to sleep with her, but he didn’t love her. Not like he loved Buffy; not for forever. And that meant that he was just using her.
Angel’s heart broke at the pain in her eyes. He felt about two inches tall when he realized that he’d played on her subconscious desires as she slept. He knew that she’d respond to him and he’d manipulated her into a place where she felt extremely vulnerable.
And he hadn’t even told her that he loved her.
“Cordelia, I—” he stopped, wanting to declare his love for her but the mistrust in her eyes held him back.
“Angel,” she said, her voice breaking. “Don’t say anything. Please. I can’t take it. I trusted you, and you take advantage of me like this?” Her eyes accused him, and another piece of his heart disintegrated into dust at her words.
“I wasn’t trying to take advantage,” he tried to get her to listen to him, but it was no use.
Tears were coursing freely down her cheeks now. “My whole life, men have looked at me like a sex object, Angel. Even Wesley, who’s one of my best friends now, looked at me with lust the first time he laid eyes on me. You didn’t. You were different, Angel. First you ignored me in Sunnydale, and then in L.A., you saw me for me. You were my best friend. I knew that if I could count on anyone not to take advantage of me, it would be you.”
Her use of the past tense was cutting.
“That’s why I came to you for this. I knew that you might play the game of a devoted fiancée, but when it came right down to it, you’d respect me. You’d respect the friendship that we have and not jeopardize that for meaningless sex.”
“It wasn’t meaningless, Cordelia!” He reached out a hand to touch her, wanting to take her into his arms and tell her how much he loved her, but she shrank away from his touch like he was diseased.
She acted as if he hadn’t said a thing. “I trusted you, Angel. I trusted you with my life, and now with my heart. And you’ve broken it. I know you can never love me because of Buffy, because of the curse, because I’m human and you’re a vampire. But I thought that what we had was special, and now—,” her voice broke on a sob, “Now I don’t know what to think of you.”
Cordelia gave him one last, tortured look, her eyes filled with the pain and hurt that he’d caused, and then fled into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Angel sank down onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He could hear her sobs from the other side of the door, and he felt as though his life had ended. Again.
***
Saturday, 6:24 a.m.
Angel feigned sleep as Cordelia exited the bathroom. He’d heard her sobbing cease, followed by a long period of silence, then he’d heard the water running and the unmistakable sounds of a long bath. He’d mentally flogged himself over and over during the period she’d locked herself in the small room, calling himself all kinds of stupid for not just blurting out that he loved her. Somehow, though, he didn’t think she would’ve believed him.
And he couldn’t entirely blame her. His actions had been less than convincing.
For what seemed like the hundredth time since Cordelia had approached him with this marriage thing, Angel questioned his motives. If he’d been honest with himself from the very beginning, he would have admitted that he was at least attracted to her. If he hadn’t been so hung up on getting her worked up, his actions would’ve seemed a lot more genuine. And his advances this morning might not have been perceived with so much insincerity. But then again, hindsight is always 20/20.
Now he had no idea what to do. He was miserable, Cordelia was miserable, and they were still very legally married to each other. He knew she’d want to annul it now more than ever, and that was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t live without her. He knew she’d say it was because he needed the link to the PTB’s, but it really had nothing to do with that. She was the sunlight in his life, the only kind of sunlight he ever saw, and he didn’t want to plunge back into eternal darkness again.
She was his. He had to make her see that.
Cordelia didn’t even spare a glance at the inert form on her bed as she walked quickly from the bathroom to the bedroom door. She opened the portal quietly, trying to avoid waking her mother.
“You’re up early, Cordelia,” Mrs. Chase said, startling her daughter so much that she jumped and slammed the door behind her.
Cordy brought a hand up to her quickly beating heart. “Mom, you scared me!” She managed a smile for her mother. “You’re up early, yourself.”
Mrs. Chase smiled warmly at her daughter, masking the concern she felt at Cordelia’s tired appearance and sad features. “I am. I’ve been getting up earlier lately. I’ve read that it’s the curse of retirement. Extra time with no place to go.”
Cordelia nodded, not feeling up to much more than that. She wandered into the kitchen to start the coffee and begin preparing breakfast.
She’d made an important decision while escaping from Angel in the bathroom this morning. She knew that she was in love with him. But she also knew that she couldn’t live with being second place, especially behind Buffy. Her heart broke when she realized how close she’d come to letting him violate her, how she’d almost given herself to him completely, both emotionally and physically, all while knowing he’d never said he loved her.
So she’d decided that she wasn’t going to acknowledge him at all. She was going to pretend like nothing happened, and be as uninvolved as possible. She’d just tell herself over and over again that he loved Buffy, not her, and she had no right to feel as she did. The only problem was that when she’d made that decision, something inside of her died. It was like the light of her existence was blown out when she acknowledged that the one person she valued above everyone else would never be hers.
Completely underestimating the turmoil in her daughter’s heart, Mrs. Chase perused the newspaper, enjoying the bright morning sunlight streaming in from Cordelia’s windows. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? Maybe we can go to the beach this afternoon.”
“Mm-hmm,” Cordelia murmured noncommittally. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, especially at 6 a.m. when her emotions were so frayed.
Mrs. Chase frowned at Cordelia’s virtual silence. Something was wrong with her daughter, and she was determined to find out what. Putting down the newspaper, she stood up to seek out Cordelia in the kitchen. Just as she stood upright, the door to Cordelia’s bedroom opened in front of her for mere seconds, then slammed shut quickly. She raised an eyebrow.
“Is everything okay in there, Angel?” She inquired, intrigued at his behavior.
Hearing the slam of the bedroom door had garnered Cordelia’s attention and she’d come out of the kitchen. She took in the sunny room and immediately realized her husband’s predicament. Her inner bitch screamed to let him suffer in her room all day, but she realized she was too hurt and too tired to play those games.
“Mom, can you close the drapes? Angel’s, um, light sensitive.”
She looked at her daughter strangely, saying only, “Of course, dear.” Quickly covering the windows, she called to Angel that it was safe to come out.
He looked sheepish as he poked his head out the door, then his body followed when he ascertained that the room was no longer unlife-threatening.
“The sun,” he paused, looking embarrassed. “I’m allergic,” he explained inanely.
“Well, then it makes sense that you work nights,” Mrs. Chase said graciously, smiling warmly in an attempt to ease his discomfort.
Cordelia swept into the room, a forced, sunny smile on her face. She carried a tray of pastries and coffee, setting them down on the table in the dining room.
“Breakfast, anyone?” she said cheerfully, although it was painfully obvious that she was anything but.
Angel noted there were three mugs on the tray, one of which was already steaming. He watched, baffled, as she handed the mug of hot blood to him before her mother could see what was inside.
She’s being nice to me. Angel thought, perplexed, taking the mug from her hands. He’d expected to be totally ignored, or glared at. He hadn’t expected her to act like nothing was amiss.
Cordelia busied herself with preparing a plate for her mother.
Angel watched her carefully, trying to catch her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t as upset as he’d thought.
He finally caught her gaze for the briefest of seconds, and what he saw there scared him so much he almost dropped his breakfast.
Her eyes were empty when she looked at him.
There was no anger, no hurt, no betrayal, just a blank wall of nothing. It was as if the light that was Cordelia, the sunshine that he craved more than anything, had been extinguished. It was then that he realized he’d broken her spirit. He’d hurt her so badly that she’d retreated completely behind walls as if he’d never known her at all. The door to her heart was firmly closed, and he had no idea how to open it.
Angel was jolted from his disturbing thoughts as the plate Cordelia held clattered to the tabletop and she grasped her head in pain. She moaned, her eyes shut tightly as the images flashed. She became dizzy, losing her balance, and Angel rushed to her side, grabbing her and holding her steady.
“What do you see, Cordy?” he asked, anxiously. He hoped fervently that it wasn’t anything outside at this time of day. Wesley wasn’t battle ready yet.
“Kids, four little ones. Crawled down into the sewer on 9th, playing down there,” she gasped as the pain intensified, then lessened as the vision ended. She opened her eyes and stared up at him, her expression filled with horror. “Oh, god, Angel. A Ku’uran Demon is going to attack them. Go. Now!”
She shoved at him, pushing him toward the door. Just as he reached the door, she pulled him back. “Sunlight, Angel! Call Wesley.”
“Cordelia,” he said quietly. He cupped her chin with his hand, looking at her tenderly. “Sewer access from here, remember? The kids are there, too, so I won’t have to go outside. Call Wesley if it will make you feel better, but I’ll be okay. Trust me.”
His words inadvertently reminded Cordelia that she didn’t trust him anymore, and the concern in her eyes was quickly replaced by the blank stare that had scared him so much just a few minutes earlier.
“Go, Angel,” she said emotionlessly, then turned away from him and walked back to her now very confused mother.
He was torn between duty and desire in that moment, as he desperately wanted to stay and make things right with her. But he knew that now was not that time, no matter what he wanted.
Part 16
Saturday, 7:02 a.m.
Cordelia’s vision was blurry as she trudged into the kitchen for her painkillers and a glass of water. She brought them back to the dining room table and sank wearily into her chair, pouring four tablets into her hand and downing them quickly. Only then did she raise her eyes to her mother’s still form across from her.
Mrs. Chase’s expression was not as surprised as Cordelia would have expected. “I think you have some explaining to do, daughter,” she said, smiling wryly to herself at her understatement. In truth, she had some idea of what was going on, but she wanted to hear it from Cordelia herself.
Cordelia tried to think of a way to explain her life that wouldn’t alarm her mother but also wouldn’t sound fabricated. Her brain hurt too much, so she decided to stick to the truth. “I get visions, Mom. Images of people in trouble.”
“You’re psychic?” Mrs. Chase asked, her voice carefully neutral.
That would be nice, Cordelia thought caustically. Nice and normal. Like Miss Cleo.
“Not exactly,” she answered. She didn’t elaborate further.
“And how does Angel figure into all of this?”
“He helps the people in my visions.”
“You said it was a demon.”
“Yes.”
“Angel fights demons?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Chase frowned at Cordelia’s curt answers. Maybe it would help if Cordelia realized just how understanding she could be.
“Cordelia, is Angel a vampire?” Mrs. Chase asked bluntly.
Her daughters eyes flew open in shock, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as she tried to comprehend the fact that her mother had actually asked her that question.
“What? No! Where would you get an idea like that? Vampires aren’t real, Mom!” Cordelia said, trying to sound incredulous.
Mrs. Chase raised an eyebrow, fixing her daughter with a knowing glare. “Please, Cordelia, don’t patronize me. I lived in Sunnyhell for 45 years; you don’t think I know what goes on there?”
Cordelia just gaped at her.
Her mother sighed, realizing that she wasn’t going to get Cordelia to admit it until she laid everything on the table. “Angel never visited me in the hospital in the daytime. He works nights. He kills demons. He never eats anything, only drinks. There’s a jug of something very blood-like in your refrigerator that isn’t very well hidden. He’s ‘allergic’ to sun. And his hands are colder than anyone’s should be in Southern California weather.”
After another moment of stunned silence, Cordelia surrendered to the inevitable. “Yes, mom, he’s a vampire.”
“Thank you for admitting it,” Mrs. Chase said, then daintily sipped her coffee.
“You seem very calm about this, Mom,” Cordelia said warily. “Aren’t you concerned that I’m married to a vampire?”
“No,” she said, deliberately avoiding further explanation.
Cordy wasn’t going for it. It was one thing for her to avoid the topic when she was covering for Angel, but she wasn’t going to drag this out of her mother.
“Why aren’t you concerned?”
“He’s obviously reformed somehow. Otherwise, you’d be dead and so would I.”
There was a pause as Cordelia continued to absorb this bizarre conversation. “You have a point. Vampires tend to do that murdering people thing.”
“It is in their nature, after all.” Mrs. Chase said. It was as if she’d said “boys will be boys,” and left it at that.
Cordelia was definitely at a loss for words. She sipped her coffee silently, wondering if she knew her mother at all.
If she only knew that her mother was just getting warmed up.
“I think its time you told me the whole story, sweetie. Tell me all about your vampire, and how he came to be. And make sure you tell me exactly why you were looking so miserable this morning.”
Well, I have always wished that Mom and I could be closer, Cordelia thought. But I never *ever* thought vampires would be involved in that conversation.
***
The goo factor was at a surprising minimum as the Ku’uran demon’s head split cleanly from its body. Angel thought wryly that Cordelia wouldn’t have even had a dry cleaning bill if she’d come along for this battle. He viewed his kill with distaste for a moment, then proceeded to dismember it and dispose of it discreetly.
After a moment of pure panic, the children had shimmied back up the ladder to the surface and scampered away, sufficiently frightened to ensure that they wouldn’t be tempted to play in the sewers ever again. The Ku’uran was really upset that its dinner had been scared off, but it wasn’t much of a fighter and Angel was left feeling cheated. He’d hoped to work out his anger and frustration in a really tough fight, but it wasn’t meant to be. Now he had to return to Cordelia’s apartment and face the most chilling music of his unnaturally long life.
As he headed slowly back toward home, he considered his options. In truth, he didn’t have many. He could pretend like nothing happened and hope that she’d forgive him and things would get back to normal, but he knew that nothing would ever be the same again. He thought about locking her in a room and forcing her to listen to him, but that would probably only make things worse.
In the end, he decided to wait until they were alone, and then just tell her he loved her. No preamble, no working up to it, just say it. She could argue with him, but at least he would have said it. Then he could keep saying it and show her through his actions that he meant it and he wasn’t going to change his mind.
He knew it was a plan as holey as swiss cheese, but it was all he had. It would have to be better than nothing.
***
“I always wondered what happened to the Mayor,” Mrs. Chase said absently as she finished the last of her coffee.
“Well, that’s what you get for being out of the country while I was graduating,” Cordelia said good-naturedly, but her words held a hint of the betrayal she’d felt at her parents hasty departure, leaving her to fend for herself.
Mrs. Chase didn’t get the hint. In her mind, Cordelia had been left in the care of her sister, Abigail, and hadn’t suffered for anything. What she didn’t know was that Abigail, in all her snootiness, had shunned her niece, not even informing Cordelia of her parents intentions for her to stay with them. Cordelia had been left to fend for herself, her part time job and personal savings barely supporting her through the end of her senior year. Mrs. Chase had no idea that Cordelia thought she’d been abandoned by her parents.
Oblivious to her daughter’s inner turmoil, Mrs. Chase continued. “So Angel can’t have perfect happiness? That’s what has you so upset?”
It was difficult for Cordelia to frame the words. “No, that’s not it. I mean, if he loved me back, then it would be the biggest problem. But he doesn’t love me. Not like I love him,” she answered, swallowing back the lump in her throat.
Mrs. Chase looked at her with disbelief. “Angel does love you, Cordelia.”
“No he doesn’t, Mom, trust me.”
Her mother shook her head. “He does, Cordelia. He may not say it, but the look in his eyes when he watches you can’t be fabricated. You mean everything to him.”
Her words sparked a small flame of hope in Cordelia, but she quickly doused it. “No, Mom. He’s in love with Buffy, not me. He might love me as a friend, but . . . no, he’s not in love with me.” Hearing the words aloud made it that much more painful.
A very unladylike snort escaped Mrs. Chase’s lips. “He couldn’t be in love with that flighty, self-absorbed little girl still. She’s obviously moved on. You remeber Dorthea Martin, right?” Cordelia nodded, remembering her mother’s country club pal. “Well she does volunteer work at the museum and says that Joyce Summers hasn’t been able to talk about anything but her daughter’s successful new boyfriend, some good looking UC Sunnydale student from some prominent Midwestern family.”
Cordelia was not surprised at the fact that her mother was up to date on the most recent Sunnydale gossip. But her mother didn’t know the whole story, and Cordelia wasn’t about to elaborate.
She sighed again, knowing that her statement wouldn’t convince her obstinate mother, but she found it necessary to say anyway. “You don’t know the whole story. Let’s just say that there are supernatural forces at work here. Angel and Buffy are soulmates. Halves of the same whole. Star-crossed lovers. Meant to be. Nothing’s going to stand in the way of that; somehow they’ll be together again and Angel would never choose me over her. Never.”
Mrs. Chase wisely remained silent, recognizing the stubborn set to her daughter’s jaw. They sat in companionable silence, only to jump as someone knocked loudly at the front door.
Cordelia crossed the room to answer it, wondering who it could be. The knock was definitely not the timid one Wesley gave. She opened the door and her jaw dropped at her newest visitor.
“Daddy?”
Mr. Chase smiled widely at his daughter, reaching to envelop her in a bear hug. “Hi, baby girl. Got room for one more?”
Part 17
Saturday, 1:35 p.m.
The bright afternoon sun warmed Cordelia’s shoulders as she sat across from her parents. They had just been served lunch at a garden terrace restaurant, and the quality and presentation of the food was reminiscent of the days before the IRS had turned the Chase family upside down and shook them for loose change. It was obvious that her father was back in the government’s good graces, but Cordelia didn’t know what had changed. All she knew was that her mother was the happiest and healthiest that Cordelia had ever seen her, and that included when they were living in Sunnydale.
Swallowing a bite of her salad, Cordelia slowly set down her fork and sat back, observing her parents. Mrs. Chase literally glowed every time her husband looked in her direction, and there was a sparkle in her father’s eyes that she hadn’t seen before.
Just then, Mr. Chase leaned over and whispered something into his wife’s ear, and she blushed, then giggled. Cordelia rolled her eyes. She’d had just about enough of parental PDA to last her a lifetime.
Cordelia cleared her throat. “Hello?” she waved a hand in front of her parents faces. “What gives? You two are acting like you’re sixteen or something. I’ve never seen you like this before.” Her parents just smiled dreamily at each other.
“And Daddy,” Cordelia turned her penetrating stare to her father. “I take it you’re no longer in danger of being arrested?” She’d dropped her voice to keep nearby diners from hearing them, but she still received a reproving glare from her parents at that comment.
Mrs. Chase frowned at her daughter. “Really, Cordelia. What manners. I leave you alone for a few years and your tact has gone out the window.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes at her mother. “Really, Mother,” Cordelia mimicked her mom’s statement. “When have I ever said anything but exactly what I was thinking?”
Mr. Chase smiled proudly at his daughter. “That’s my baby girl. Always telling it like it is.”
“Randall,” Mrs. Chase reproached her husband, but there was no bite behind the word. His eyes met hers, and they drifted back to Happy Married Couple Land.
“So?” Cordelia said, exasperated and not wanting to lose the conversation again to their saccharine display. “What happened to you, Daddy?”
Mr. Chase tore his gaze away from his wife. “I cut a deal with the government. I had some associates who were involved in some less than reputable business dealings, and I gave up some information. In exchange, the IRS cancelled out what I owed and let me come back in the country.”
Cordelia raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Must’ve been some juicy information, Daddy. I thought the IRS wrung you out until you were dry.”
“Your mother had some equity in her name. We liquidated that and we’re living quite comfortably in the Caribbean.”
“It’s beautiful there, Cordy,” Mrs. Chase said, excitedly. “We’d love to have you visit.” Her the curve of her smile straightened out as she remembered Angel. “I guess we’ll have to visit Angel here, right? I would imagine that tropical destinations don’t appeal to him.”
“Most vacation destinations don’t appeal to him, Mom, so don’t feel bad about it. I’ve learned to live with it. He doesn’t like me going places by myself, but he’ll just have to deal.”
“So what’s Angel like, Cordelia?” Mr. Chase asked, finally setting his concentration on something other than his wife.
Cordelia shared a meaningful look with her mother as she sifted through Angel’s characteristics; so many of them weren’t lunchtime conversation. “He’s a good man,” Cordelia said truthfully. She may be hurt and upset at his recent behavior, but she couldn’t lie about something like that.
Mr. Chase nodded and continued. “Does he have a sound portfolio?”
Cordelia snorted unbecomingly. “He doesn’t have anything except his good looks and charm, Daddy.”
Mrs. Chase recognized the disapproval that was beginning to form on her husband’s face and she decided to take charge of the situation. “Darling, Cordelia’s leaving out some very important information.”
Cordelia, having just taken a sip of her water, nearly choked when she realized what her mother was about to say. She shook her head violently, even considered kicking her mother beneath the table, but wouldn’t have done any good. Mrs. Chase just ignored her and continued.
“Angel’s a vampire with a soul,” she said with the emotional intensity of an announcement of a weekend sale at Nordstrom’s. “He’s working for the Powers that Be and he saves the world. He doesn’t have time to develop an investment portfolio.”
Holding her breath with nervousness, Cordelia stole a glance at her father and was surprised to see that he’d only raised an eyebrow at the bomb his wife had just dropped.
She nearly hyperventilated when he answered impatiently, “I already knew that.” He waved his wife’s comment away and took a healthy drink of his chardonnay.
Mrs. Chase wrinkled her nose in consternation. “How did you know?”
He looked indignant as he set down his wineglass and turned to his wife. “Really, Amelia. What type of father do you take me for? As soon as Cordelia told us where she was working I hired a PI of my own to check out her situation. I wouldn’t just leave my daughter helpless in a dangerous town like Los Angeles. The investigator found out about Angel and his mission, and how Cordelia was helping him. The PI assured me that Angel would protect her.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me about it?”
His eyes softened as he answered her. “You were sick, Amelia. I was scared for you and I didn’t want you to worry about Cordy when you didn’t feel well.”
She smiled softly at him. “You’re so good to me, Randall.”
They drifted off again, and after removing her jaw from the floor at her father’s apathy toward Angel’s demonic nature, Cordelia lost her patience.
“AHHHH! Enough, you two!! Back to earth. Please!!”
They turned guiltily from each other and faced Cordelia.
Mr. Chase suddenly remembered the earlier portion of the conversation. “Mission or not, no one should neglect their finances. Can Angel provide for you, daughter?”
Mrs. Chase defended her son-in-law once again. “Angel shared with me that he has some family money saved if they need it.”
Cordelia stifled a sarcastic comment. Her parents may know and accept the fact that Angel was a vampire, but they wouldn’t accept that his “family money” was a figment of his imagination. It was a bizarre situation, but it made sense somehow. Her parents had always valued financial stability above everything else.
“Family money, huh?” Mr. Chase mused. “If its from his family, it must have accrued a great deal of interest, given the length of his life. I’ll have to talk with him about that.”
“Oh, Randall, don’t bother him with business,” Mrs. Chase scolded him playfully. “Let’s enjoy our time here with Cordelia and Angel.”
“Of course, dear,” Mr. Chase said absently, suddenly noting the fact that his daughter wasn’t dressed in her usual designer outfits. When had that changed?
“Well, baby girl, I think its time that your Daddy spent some money on you,” he smiled broadly at Cordelia. “How about Rodeo Drive?”
Mrs. Chase clapped her hands with glee. “Wonderful, Randall! Versace just released their fall line.”
Cordelia gaped at her parents. This entire situation was unreal, but she would deal with it later. She was never one to pass up Versace, especially if Daddy was paying.
***
Saturday, 7:02 p.m.
Angel paced Cordelia’s living room floor, his arms crossed and his expression implacable. He’d returned to the apartment that morning only to find a very terse note from Cordelia saying that her father had come to get her mother and the three of them had gone out for the day. She said they’d be back, but she didn’t say when. He usually spent this time of day asleep, but today his mind wouldn’t shut down. He’d become very single-minded since deciding he just had to corner her and declare his love, and he just wanted to do it and get it over with, then deal with the aftermath.
The fact that Cordelia’s father was in town made Angel nervous. He shouldn’t be; he was nearly 250 years old, for Pete’s sake, and he shouldn’t be intimidated by anyone. But the thought of having to impress Mr. Chase was enough to make his insides twist. If he’d been human, he would’ve felt like throwing up. He knew that getting along with Cordelia’s parents was important to her, and he didn’t want another problem to fix. He was already in good with her mother, but since Cordelia treated him like he had leprosy lately, he didn’t know if he could pull off the same act with her dad.
Just as he began to rehearse what he’d say to Mr. Chase, heard voices outside the door. Dennis rushed by in a whoosh of cool air and the door was flung open to reveal Cordelia and her parents, Mr. Chase’s face barely visible behind a delicately balanced stack of boxes.
“Oh, Angel! Good, you’re home,” Mrs. Chase greeted him warmly as her daughter ignored him. “We ate dinner before we came home; we knew you didn’t want to join us. Did you have a chance to eat yet?”
Angel was puzzled, but he answered truthfully. “Um, yes ma’am.”
“Oh, good. Angel, this is Randall Chase, my husband,” she motioned to the large man behind the stack of boxes.
A muffled “Hello,” floated from behind the cardboard tower, and Angel greeted him in return.
“Cordelia, honey, what do you want to do with these?” Mr. Chase yelled to his daughter, who’d disappeared into the bedroom.
“Just bring them in here, Daddy,” Cordelia called, and Mr. Chase disappeared into the bedroom. He returned a few minutes later and extended his hand to Angel.
“Nice to meet you, son. My wife hasn’t been able to stop talking about how great you are. I’m anxious to get to know you.”
Angel smiled nervously. “I’d like that, too,” he answered, not knowing what else to say.
Cordelia entered the room briefly, grabbing Angel’s arm and dragging him back into the bedroom. “Excuse us for a minute, Daddy. I need to talk to Angel and then you can have him back.”
Sighing with relief that he was finally going to get her alone, Angel followed her willingly. Cordelia dropped his arm as soon as they were out of her parents’ line of sight. It scared him that her eyes were just as emotionally closed as they’d been that morning, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it because her next words jolted him.
“They know you’re a vampire, Angel.”
At his shocked look, she continued. “Don’t ask. It’s a long story, one that I’m not sure I fully understand. But the weirdness keeps on coming. They’re totally okay with it. Actually, Daddy’s more concerned with the fact that you don’t have any money. He’s going to take you out for a drink, so make up something to satisfy him, okay?”
She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm, not about to miss this chance. “Cordy, I love—”
She recognized the look on his face and cut him off. “Don’t, Angel,” she hissed. “Don’t even think about telling me you love me. That’s not going to fix a damn thing, even if it is true, which I highly doubt. Now is not the time to talk about what you did to me. If you handle it like this it may never be the right time. Just leave me the hell alone, okay? I’ll come to you if I’m ready to talk about it.”
He dropped her arm, realizing that he had no other choice. So much for that plan.