Part 18
Saturday, 9:46 p.m.
The inside of O’Neill’s bar was thick with cigar smoke; obviously they’d chosen to ignore the newly-enacted anti-smoking laws. Mr. Chase breathed deeply, enjoying the pungent aroma as it filled his lungs. He’d given up cigars five years ago, but he loved to come to places like this and get a taste of the good old days.
He glanced over at his son-in-law, who sat hunched over the bar, swirling the scotch in his glass. Angel seemed mesmerized by the spinning amber liquid, lost in thought. Dejection rolled off the vampire in palpable waves, mixing with the bittersweet smoke and engendering fatherly concern in his drinking companion.
They’d barely said two words to each other since they’d entered the bar, bonding silently in the way of strong, confident men who are acquainting themselves with each other’s presence. Mr. Chase could sense the integrity in this man, the desire to be more than he was, the fierce love he held for Cordelia. He’d seen the protective way Angel’s eyes had scanned her form as she’d entered her apartment, checking to make sure she was safe and uninjured. He knew that Angel did it without thinking about it, and it comforted him to know that his daughter was loved and protected.
As much as he was pleased by that, he was dismayed by the realization that the misery Angel felt right now was most likely his daughter’s doing. If he knew anything about Chase women, it was that they weren’t hurt easily, but when they were, the return trip from the doghouse to the bedroom was nothing short of hell.
Mr. Chase cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, son, why does my daughter look like she’d like to skin you alive?”
Angel looked up at him in surprise. “What?”
“I recognized that false cheerfulness. Amelia’s done that number on me more times than I can count. What did you do, forget her birthday?”
Angel wished it were that simple. “Not exactly.”
Realizing he’d have to force the truth from his recalcitrant son-in-law, Mr. Chase’s voice turned gruff. “Well, spill it, boy. I’ve had some experience with angry Chase women. That’s a patch of thorns you’d do good to get out of as soon as possible.”
Swallowing a drink of scotch, Angel contemplated how much he should reveal to Cordelia’s father. He couldn’t tell him about the marriage charade, but maybe he could be vague enough to satisfy the man.
“Last night, I, uh, we—“ He stopped. How exactly do you tell your wife’s father that you were trying to have sex with his daughter?
Mr. Chase smiled knowingly at Angel’s obvious discomfort.. “I get it; say no more. You were enjoying the benefits of marriage, eh?” He winked, nudging Angel’s side with his elbow. “So, how’d you foul it up?”
“She’s still not convinced I love her, and I didn’t say it before I, um, well, you know.”
Mr. Chase whistled long and low as he shook his head. “Well, I’d say you screwed up. Big time.”
Angel just nodded, then downed the rest of his scotch in one quick gulp. He welcomed the fire in his throat as the liquid burned as he swallowed.
He was glad he’d set down the glass when Mr. Chase continued. “My wife whispered to me today that Cordelia thinks you’d divorce her if your ex-girlfriend, Buffy, wanted you back.”
Angel was shocked at first. “Really? She actually thinks that?”
Then after a moment of self-deprecating contemplation, Angel grunted and said, “I guess I can’t blame her. I haven’t exactly told her I’m not in love with Buffy anymore.”
“You must have a serious history with her for Cordelia to be so scared.”
“We had a tough break up. I couldn’t give her the life she deserved, and I wanted to stay with her, but it just didn’t work out. When Cordelia and I first started working together here in LA, I was still in love with Buffy. But not anymore.”
Studying Angel carefully, Mr. Chase sat back in the barstool and crossed his arms in front of him. “I’ll tell you what, Angel. I’ll let you in on a little secret about Chase women.”
Angel waited, albeit somewhat skeptically. He didn’t think there was anything he could do to make the situation better, but he was willing to hear anything.
“I had a similar situation with Amelia when we were first married. I had been engaged when I met Amelia for the first time, and she was dating someone else. Genevieve and I had a really rocky breakup; basically she slept with someone else and I was heartbroken. Amelia started out as my shoulder to cry on, and then I fell in love with her.”
He paused for a moment, lost in the memories.
“Anyway, about two months after we got married, Genevieve caught me at home alone and pushed her way in. She got all teary and begged me to take her back and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She kissed me, I gave in to a moment of weakness and didn’t stop her, and Amelia saw it. I’ll never forget that look on her face: cold, abject betrayal. I couldn’t say anything that would make her believe that I wanted her now, not Genevieve. After all, I’d told her at least a hundred times when we first met how much I wanted Genevieve back.”
Angel waited anxiously for him to continue. “So what happened?” he prompted.
“Genevieve kept calling, I kept hanging up on her, and it just kept getting worse. I had no idea how to fix it, but I knew that I wasn’t about to let Amelia out of my sight; I didn’t want Genevieve to catch me alone again and make the situation worse.”
He grunted, shaking his head ruefully as he remembered the day it all came to a head.
“This went on for a few weeks; Amelia giving me the silent treatment and me following like a wounded puppy at her heels. She wouldn’t let me say ‘I love you’; she said it was insulting after what she thought I’d done. So I tried to show her, but that didn’t work very well, either. The true test came when Genevieve called our house again and Amelia answered. She got this strange look on her face, clenched her jaw, and just handed the phone to me. ‘It’s her,’ she said, as if just saying Genevieve’s name was enough to make her sick to her stomach.”
“I took the phone and when Amelia tried to leave the room, I grabbed her and made her stay to listen. I told Genevieve in no uncertain terms that if she ever called our house again, I’d have the law on her so fast she’d have to move to Europe to get away from the hassle. And I told her that I loved Amelia and I planned to be with her until I died, so Genevieve should just leave us the hell alone. Then I hung up on her.”
“Did it work?” Angel asked, a little skeptical that Amelia would believe Randall’s performance.
“Actually, it did. I was even kind of surprised. I’d almost given up hope. It turns out that all Amelia wanted me to do was take a stand on the issue. She thought I was being two-faced; that I told her I loved her and acted like it when she was around, but that I really wanted Genevieve and I was marking time until I could be with her again. Telling her and showing her weren’t enough; I had to kick Genevieve’s ass, well, verbally anyway, before Amelia would give me the time of day again.”
Angel ordered another scotch as the bar tender passed their way, then asked, “So were you two okay after that?”
“Yep, right as rain,” he said cheerfully, grabbing a handful of pretzels from the basket near him and stuffing them in his mouth.
“And you think this would work with Cordy?” Angel asked warily.
Mr. Chase sighed. “I don’t know, son, but it’s worth a try. This Buffy girl been trying to get you back?”
“Not exactly,” Angel smiled wryly. “And she’d kick my ass if I called her up out of the blue and told her to stay away from me forever when she’s planning to do just that.”
“Well, I guess the only other thing to do is corner my daughter when Amelia and I leave and tell her that if Buffy came back, you’d stay with her, not leave with Buffy. That’s going to mean more to her than a million ‘I love you’s.”
Mr. Chase smiled proudly as he thought of his daughter. “My baby girl is a carbon copy of her beautiful mother; that girl won’t take shit from anybody.”
He clapped Angel on the back, hard enough to make him choke on his scotch. “Makes it hell on us husbands, but the flip side is that the making up is just as passionate as the anger.” He grinned. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The emotional torture increased as Angel allowed himself to imagine the possibility of making love to Cordelia with no barriers, emotional or physical, between them. He knew, without a doubt, that the experience would be so blissful that it would sever the delicate bonds anchoring his soul to his demon, and he couldn’t allow that.
Damn it, he had to talk to Wesley about that curse.
Mr. Chase’s words once again brought Angel out of his cloud of misery. “So, about your finances. Any chance that ‘family money’ wasn’t just a fib to make my wife feel better?”
Angel decided that truth was the best course of action. “Before I got my soul back, I accumulated a lot of wealth from my victims. I haven’t touched it because it’s tainted, but I still have access to it and I’d use it in a heartbeat if Cordelia needed it.”
Mr. Chase couldn’t keep himself from asking, “How much are we talking here, round numbers?”
“With interest, $100 million, give or take a few hundred thousand,” Angel said. He could’ve been talking about the weather for all the emotional intensity of his words.
Cordelia’s father was taken aback at the figure. “Well, I’d say you’re financially stable, then.” He cleared his throat, his head reeling at what he could do with a sum that large, but he shook it off. “Makes me feel better, knowing that my baby girl is taken care of.”
“Please don’t’ say anything to Cordelia; she thinks I’m poor and I’d like to keep it that way,” Angel said.
Gulping down the last of his scotch, Mr. Chase nodded and stood up. “Of course, Angel. I’ll respect your privacy.”
He threw some money on the bar.
“Let’s go see if we can get your wife to talk to you again, eh?”
***
Sunday, 6:05 p.m.
“Bye, Mom. Call me when you get there, okay?” Cordelia hugged her mother fiercely.
“Sure, sweetie,” Mrs. Chase answered, her eyes teary.
Cordelia turned to her father. “Bye, Daddy.” She reached to give him a hug.
As his arms went around his daughter, Mr. Chase took the opportunity to whisper in Cordelia’s ear, “Don’t stay mad at him forever, baby girl. He loves you and you don’t want to run him off.” He kissed her cheek, then pulled away.
He grinned when he saw his daughter’s irritated scowl and was reminded once again of his wife.
“Angel, take care of her for us,” Mr. Chase said, shaking Angel’s hand. “And remember what I said, okay?”
“I will on both counts. You’re welcome to come visit anytime; we’d love to have you,” Angel said, surprised that he meant it.
Mr. and Mrs. Chase made one last round of hugs, then exited, the door shutting with a click that echoed in the silence that remained.
Angel and Cordelia both stared at the door for a few minutes, wary of each other and not sure how to proceed. They’d both used her parents as an excuse to avoid dealing with their problems, but now they had to face them.
Cordelia moved first. She spared a brief, shuttered glance at Angel, then grabbed her purse. “I’m going out,” she said, not able to take the tension in the room.
Angel shot a hand out and stopped her as she reached for her coat. “No, let me. I have to patrol anyway.”
“Fine,” she said tersely, turning away and disappearing into the bedroom.
She stood stiffly, facing the window as he prepared to leave. The moment she heard the door click softly as it closed behind him, her shoulders slumped and her face fell, revealing tired features she’d been trying so hard to hide. She shuffled over to the bed, laying down and curling up into a fetal position, hugging her knees to her chest, despondent beyond tears.
Misery was not a pleasant state.
The past 24 hours had been an emotional torture unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Her face hurt from forced smiling, her head throbbed from trying not to think about Angel, and her throat hurt from holding back tears. At least when Xander had cheated on her, she’d been able to wail and carry on in peace. Now, she had to put up a brave front for her parents and she had to live with the man who’d broken her heart.
The truth was that she wanted Angel back so badly that she could taste it. At this point, Cordelia almost didn’t care if he was in love with Buffy. She wanted him anyway. She would take as much of him as she could get, live with the consequences of unrequited love, but at least she would have him. She knew it was an unhealthy attitude, but being strong wasn’t getting her anything but a migraine.
Angel wanted her; that part wasn’t in dispute. The part that cut her so deeply was the question of whether or not he’d choose her over Buffy if a choice ever became an option. When she’d woken up in so much physical pleasure with him the other morning, she would’ve said unequivocally that he was just using her. Now, though, after the way he’d been acting the last 24 hours, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe he was in love with both women at the same time. But that option didn’t solve anything either. Cordelia was selfish; she wanted Angel to love her and only her, and she thought she had a right to feel that way.
Last night had been the acutest torture of all. Sleeping alongside Angel, knowing that he was just inches away and that he wanted her if she would accept him, ate away at her resolve like acid on metal. She’d slept fitfully, waking with her pride intact but very, very fragile. She wanted him so badly that she was practically shaking with it, but her mind wouldn’t let her give in. She was too hurt, felt too betrayed, to surrender.
Suddenly the emotional baggage of those thoughts became way too heavy to handle, so she shoved them aside and closed her eyes, begging for the oblivion of sleep.
Insistent knocking dragged her out of pleasant nothingness a few hours later. She groaned, pulling the pillow over her head as if blocking the sounds would make the person go away. When it didn’t, she hauled herself from the bed, just in time to see Angel bolt from the bathroom, dripping, a towel wrapped around his waist. She wondered sleepily when he’d come back, then trudged after him, stopping at the threshold of the bedroom and leaning against the doorframe.
Angel lunged for the door, flinging it open, and both their mouths dropped open in surprise at their visitor.
Cordelia recovered first, saying tightly, “Well hi, Buffy. Welcome to our little corner of hell.”
Part 19
Sunday, 9:25 p.m.
Buffy looked at Cordelia strangely, then shrugged as if she didn’t understand her. She turned her gaze to Angel, and her eyes softened and she smiled.
“Hi, Angel.”
Angel just gaped at her, his head reeling, time seeming to stand still as he stared into the pretty face of his ex-girlfriend.
Buffy was here.
In L.A.
What the hell was going on?
Cordelia broke into his scattered thoughts. “Don’t just stand there like a dork, Angel, invite her in.”
It tore her in two to say that, but at least she’d be able to finally put this behind her. Angel would fall all over Buffy like he usually did, he’d ask for an annulment, and Cordelia could get on with her life.
She’d be dead inside, but she would deal with it. She always did.
“Um, yeah, Buffy, come on in,” Angel said, feeling totally like the dork that Cordelia always accused him of being. He stepped back, opening the door wider and giving Buffy room to enter. He followed her to the couch and sat down on the opposite end, leaving plenty of room between them.
Buffy, obviously not enjoying the distance, scooted over closer to him, but Angel bolted off the sofa and perched on the edge, maintaining the space.
“So what brings you to L.A.?” Angel asked, crossing his arms and looking nervously over at Cordelia, who was still watching from the bedroom door.
Buffy looked pointedly over at Cordelia. “Can we talk alone, Angel?” she said, her tone indicating that Cordelia should just take the hint and scram.
Her not-so-subtle suggestion made Cordelia’s blood boil. Her thoughts turned nasty: He’s mine, bitch, and I’ll die before I leave and let you sink your claws into him again. Immediately, she turned the anger on herself when she recognized the jealousy. She had no legitimate claim on him. Maybe legally, but not emotionally. He’d never told her he loved her. It didn’t matter how she felt.
So she did the mature thing, as much as it killed her inside.
“Obviously you two have a lot to talk about,” Cordelia said, her smile forced as she refused to meet Angel’s eyes. “I’ll just be in here.” She backed into the bedroom and reached to close the door.
“Wait! Cordelia, you don’t have to go,” Angel said, his voice close to desperate as he jumped off the couch and crossed the room to her, grasping her arm.
“Yes, I do, Angel,” she argued quietly, trying to free herself from his grip.
“No, you don’t. I want you here.”
“Um, Excuse me?” Buffy’s annoyed voice interrupted them and Angel turned to look at her. “Angel, it would really be better if I could talk to you alone. Cordelia doesn’t have anything to do with this,” her eyes were expressive, leaving no doubt that the conversation topic would concern their relationship, not any apocalyptic predictions.
Angel’s expression hardened as he dredged up 250 years worth of stubbornness. He was not going to make the same mistake that Mr. Chase had made. He was NOT going to compromise his relationship with Cordelia by being alone with his ex-girlfriend who obviously wanted him back.
“Angel, just do what she asks,” Cordelia implored him, not wanting to make a scene.
“Buffy, excuse us for a second, okay?” He smiled tightly at her and dragged Cordelia back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them.
“Cordelia, I DO NOT want to be alone with Buffy. I want you there with me, okay? I need you there. I don’t want to give Buffy any impression that I want to get back together with her.”
Cordelia was dumbfounded. “You don’t want Buffy back? But I thought. . .”
Angel growled with frustration, knowing that Buffy was waiting with growing impatience out in the other room and that there would be hell to pay if he didn’t deal with her soon. He didn’t have enough time to explain to Cordelia, who still felt very used and betrayed, how he felt and not sound like he had ulterior motives.
So he left love out of it for now and gave her as honest an answer as he could.
“My life is here, Cordelia. My mission is here, my family is here. Buffy can’t leave Sunnydale. Nothing about our circumstances has changed since we broke up, and nothing she will say can convince me otherwise.”
She looked at him skeptically.
“I need you with me so that I’m reminded of what I have here. I need you to hear me say that I won’t leave you, not even for Buffy. Please, Cordy.”
She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then her features softened.
“Okay, Angel,” she said simply.
He smiled with relief, then took her hand and brought her back to the living room with him. They stood awkwardly in front of Buffy, not wanting to sit down.
Buffy looked less than pleased.
“Buffy, whatever you have to say does concern Cordelia. I want her here,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “So what is it you wanted to talk about?”
Buffy allowed herself to glare at Cordelia for a moment, then she ignored her completely and turned an excited face to Angel.
“Giles found a way to make your soul permanent, Angel.”
Cordelia gasped. “Are you sure it’s legitimate?”
Annoyed at Cordelia’s interruption, Buffy answered with no small measure of snottiness. “Of course. I wouldn’t have come here if there was a chance it might not work.” Her face turned serious as she considered that unpalatable possibility. “I don’t think I could take it if there was a slight chance for us to be together and then it didn’t happen.”
Buffy’s expression brightened as she pulled herself out of self-reflection. “But this is a sure thing. Giles has checked it a bunch of times, and he’s sure it will work.” She stood up excitedly, rushing to Angel, grasping him in a hug.
“Isn’t that fantastic, Angel? We can finally be together, just like we’ve always wanted.”
Cordelia’s world rocked and she suddenly felt extremely nauseous. Angel said that he didn’t want to be with Buffy because nothing had changed. Well, this changed everything. Angel could have a real relationship with Buffy.
Angel was going to leave her, just like she’d feared. Her nightmare was about to come true.
Daring one stricken glance at Angel, she saw how his arms had gone to Buffy’s shoulders, grasping them firmly as she hugged him. She saw the shocked look on his face, and the light in his eyes as he realized that the curse could be a thing of the past. She saw in that embrace the destruction of every last shred of hope she’d held on to, and she couldn’t stay there and watch her life implode. She choked back a sob and disappeared back into the bedroom.
Angel watched her go helplessly as Buffy held him in a grip that would’ve crushed a mortal man. Suddenly, his skin crawled with the knowledge that Cordelia had seen Buffy hugging him and he hadn’t pushed her away fast enough.
Noticing the pressure he was applying to her shoulders, Buffy pulled back, her arms still around his waist. Her eyes turned questioning and she asked, “What’s wrong, Angel?”
In the bedroom, tears coursed silently down Cordelia’s cheeks. She desperately wanted to let go and scream, but she couldn’t do that, not with Buffy in the next room. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing her broken heart. But upon hearing Buffy’s question through the slightly open door, she couldn’t help but listen. She didn’t think her heart could take hearing Angel declare his love for Buffy, but she couldn’t drag herself away.
Angel gently grasped Buffy’s hands and pulled them from around his waist, pushing her away from him.
“I’m married to Cordelia, Buffy.”
“Uh, what?” Buffy said, aghast.
“We’re married.”
“Married?” Buffy looked like she might hyperventilate, her eyes wide as she stepped back a step. After a moment of stunned silence, her eyes narrowed and she looked at the bedroom door suspiciously.
“What did Cordelia do to you?”
“Do to me?” Angel asked, an eyebrow raised. “Nothing like what you’re implying. She has been my closest friend since I moved to LA, and I fell in love with her.”
Cordelia stifled a gasp at his words as she listened, desperately wanting his words to be true, but dreading that they were just a way to get Buffy to leave for her own good.
Buffy shook her head slowly, refusing to accept this. “No, you can’t love her Angel. You love me.”
“I did love you, Buffy, but not anymore, not like that,” Angel’s features held no apology, just determination.
“But the curse. . .You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” Buffy asked, ironically hopeful that he would say he did. If he did and he still had his soul, that meant that he wasn’t really happy, and she still had a chance.
“No, we haven’t, not that it’s any of your business. But I want to, more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life.”
Buffy saw the truth in his eyes as he said that, and her world fell apart. “Angel, I still love you. We could make this work. I know that when I saw you last you saw me with Riley, but what you and I had was so much more. . . I love you so much, Angel. Please, don’t do this to me,” she begged, tears forming in her eyes and spilling over.
Angel sighed. Now he had two women upset with him. “Buffy, I never meant to hurt you, but I never thought we’d be together again. I couldn’t hang on to a love I could never have. And when I let go, Cordelia was there. First as my secretary, then as my best friend, and now as the woman I can’t imagine my life without.”
Smiling softly, Angel thought back to what had made him see the truth. “What really convinced me is when I realized that even Angelus is in love with her, although the ass won’t admit it,” Angel shook his head ruefully, remembering Angelus’s lustful taunting in Angel’s head. The demon wouldn’t admit it, but he was definitely in love with Cordelia, too.
“Both my soul and my demon are fulfilled by Cordelia, and I can’t live without her.”
Cordelia’s tears flowed unchecked as she listened to Angel speak, the sincerity and earnestness obvious in his voice.
Angel did love her.
Buffy sobbed once, then stopped, choking the rest down in a way that made her feel as if her throat were closed off.
“You’ll change your mind, Angel. You love me, I know you do,” she said hoarsely, desperation driving her words.
“I’m not going to change my mind, Buffy. I have a chance to be happy with Cordelia and I’m not going to jeopardize that.”
At the mention of the word “happy,” Buffy’s thoughts returned to the curse she’d come here to dispel. Her broken heart gave way to intense rage.
“If you think I’m going to give you the solution to your curse just so you can sleep with Cordelia, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Angel’s eyes widened and in the bedroom, Cordelia’s heart nearly stopped. Buffy couldn’t do this.
She wouldn’t withhold that from Angel so cruelly, would she?
“Buffy—“ Angel began, reaching for her imploringly.
Buffy shook her head. “No, Angel. I’m not going to encourage your temporary insanity. You should have thought about this before you chose her over me.”
She backed up a few steps, nearing the door. Her eyes narrowed and she stared him down, the venom in her eyes almost tangible.
“When you come to your senses, you know where to find me. Until then, I want you to think about whether a lifetime of misery with Cordelia would be better than a lifetime of happiness with me. I think the right answer is pretty obvious.”
Angel’s heart was breaking. “Buffy, please, don’t do this,” Angel begged, the pain in his voice strengthening Buffy’s resolve.
She shook her head slowly. “Don’t you see, Angel? I have to. For us.”
In the bedroom, Cordelia’s heart pounded frantically as she realized what was happening. Her chance for happiness with Angel was walking out the door with Buffy, and she’d still never have him even though he loved her. No, Buffy, please. she begged silently. For once, look outside yourself and let Angel be happy, even if it isn’t with you.
But her pleas went unheard and she heard the door slam behind her nemesis. She gave way to the pain and sobbed, her tears flowing unchecked as she hugged her knees and rocked herself on the floor.
Her anguish was echoed by a ferocious growl and shout from the living room, followed by the sound of broken furniture.