She could see him. He was far away and veiled in a misty fog, but it was him. His tall dark frame silhouetted in the moonlight. She wanted to go to him but couldn’t move. She called his name, “Angel?” He didn’t answer but began to move slowly toward her. “Angel?” she called again. His face became clearer, his features more defined as he walked through the fog. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Cordelia?” he called, but it wasn’t his voice. Suddenly his broad shape shifted, morphed into a smaller one. “Cordelia?” the voice called again. A dread filled Cordelia’s heart, “Wesley?” she asked. Her dream turned black and Wesley’s voice was the only thing now that filled her mind. “Cordelia,” his voice called once more, now more insistent than before. Cordelia’s eyes slowly opened and the cramp in her neck began to ache.
“Good lord Cordelia. Have you been here all night?”
“You mean its morning again?”
“When did you arrive?”
“I came by yesterday morning, right after you dropped me off. I … I just needed some answers, about the poison … and the cure,” she answered, now blushing at her situation as she looked at the disheveled office around her. “What time is it?” she stretched.
“6:30. We were all going to meet here. Today is the high school graduation and we need to prepare. I must be the first to arrive.”
Cordelia stretched one last time and forced her fuzzy mind to clear. She turned in Giles’ swivel chair and looked at Wesley standing beside the desk, studying his gentle eyes and questioning brow. Angel had been right. If she didn’t talk to Wesley now, make him understand her true feelings for him, things could get confusing and a little weird. She didn’t want that. Wesley was her friend, someone she could trust. “So, we’re alone then?” she asked in a soft voice.
Wesley’s heart began to race. He had thought that his second attempt could wait until after the battle. He’d hoped that, if they all survived, he and Cordelia could start things fresh. They’d been bombarded with poison, spells, slayers, near death, not to mention vampires…a vampire. He was sure that if he could get her away from all of that, just for a moment, that things might turn out differently than the kiss had. He had been scared, she had been sick, that’s why it had felt so wrong, so platonic. Yes, that was it. Now, he found himself alone with her. He had come in early to study more on the possible side effects of the spell and more importantly, to prove his point that it had only taken Angel’s love to cure her. It didn’t have to be reciprocated… he hoped. Now he was here with her, alone, and happy about it. “Yes, the others won’t be here for a while yet.”
“Good,” she breathed in deeply. She stood and lead Wesley by the hand to the library outside, sitting down on one of the lounging sofas. Wesley sat beside her and patiently waited to make his move. “Yesterday morning I was confused,” she began. “I had been poisoned, near death, and woke up to an … awkward situation. Things are just … confusing for me right now.”
“It’s perfectly alright Cordelia. I was a little out of sorts myself,” he reassured. “I don’t believe that either of us knew exactly what we were doing.”
Cordelia smiled. Wesley was going to make this easier for her. He really was a good friend. “I’m glad you see things the same way I do. You know I am all for the hocus pocus stuff when it’s saving my life, but choosing my destiny for me is another thing.”
The smile of anticipation that had been slowly forming on Wesley’s face began to fade away. He looked back to the office, remembering the study session he had had with Giles and Buffy. She’d come for answers and found them. His lie suddenly crept into his mind. “Your destiny?” he tried to ask with innocence.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I saw the tablet you used to translate the text on. Plus I had a little talk with Angel,” she finished a little disheartened.
Oh God. Angel had told her the truth. But if she knew, why was she being so nice about it? Wesley shifted uncomfortably, “Cordelia, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept the truth from you.” Wesley paused, he should have never lied. “I came back early to the mansion, after you were cured. I saw you and Angel, when you first awoke,” he emphasized, hoping she understood his meaning.
“My awkward situation?”
“Indeed. Knowing the implications of the spell, I acted … protectively of course. I guess I was afraid that if you knew about the ‘true love’ clause that some part of you might think that you were forced to follow it, no matter what your true feelings. I suppose I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want it to be true.”
“You didn’t? I mean, you don’t think that the two of us…”
“Of course not. Why should I ever want something like that to happen?”
“Thank God,” she sighed. “But we’re still friends, right?”
This question seemed out of place. “Friends?” he asked, wondering why she would ask him if she and Angel had a friendship.
“Well, yeah. I mean you and I may not be soul mates or destined loves or anything, but we’re still gonna be friends. Right?” she beamed.
Wesley felt sick. She didn’t know. Not everything anyway. He had told her that he was responsible for her recovery and, believing that, she had read the translated passage thinking it pertained to the two of them. She’d mistakenly thought that she was destined to be with him, spending the last twenty-four hours believing it and hoping it wasn’t true. Wesley’s heart sank, disappointment consumed him. He was such a fool. He’d come here looking for proof that she could love him and she had come here looking for proof that she didn’t. He couldn’t let this go on, he had to let her know the truth. “Cordelia, I ….” he paused, unsure how to set things right.
“What is it?” she smiled light heartedly now and leaned in closer as if urging him to continue.
“There’s something I want to tell you, something I must tell you.” Wesley paused again, questioning himself mentally, debating the direct ‘ I lied’ approach over the long, drawn out explanation of ego versus fear.
Cordelia tried to keep the smile on her face, her patience wearing thin and her muscles aching from a night spent sleeping in Giles’ office. She wanted to go home, crawl in bed and sleep for days. Hurry up Wesley. She smiled a little tighter, “Wesley, it’s okay, just say it.”
The direct approach it would be. “Cordelia, I l…”
Angel had gotten some sleep. Although, he wondered to himself if the full twenty-eight minutes that he’d managed to drift off into fitful slumber would sustain him through the battle. He remembered the fight, it wasn’t easy. The mayor had recruited just about every demon in town to help him and even without Faith it had been a struggle to defeat him the first time.
He rounded the corner of the school hallway, sticking close to the wall to avoid the few morning rays that broke through the windows. His mind drifted back to the thought that had made his small nap anything but restful. Cordelia. Cordelia and Wesley. He would not get angry. Wesley wasn’t taking something that was his, because she never belonged to him in the first place. So what if they were in love with each other. It wasn’t his business that Cordelia preferred a tweed covered coward over him. Alright, that was a little harsh. Wesley was a friend and over all a good man. He should be happy that two friends had found their soul mate, their destiny. That was a good thing. It was good that he had convinced her to go and talk to Wesley. Yeah, that was real good. They were probably together right now in some intimate setting, confessing their innermost feelings for each other. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to witness that precious moment. Trying to keep focused on the mission and get home, Angel pushed the wants of his heart and soul to the side as he approached the library doors.
His sense of smell kicked in just before his hearing. He stood frozen, his hand on the swinging door, listening to the moment he was so sure he’d never have to hear.
What a stammering idiot.
“What is it?”
“There’s something I want to tell you, something I must tell you.”
Go ahead. Say it. Just. One. More. Word. So I can rip your head from your shoulders.
“Wesley, its okay, just say it.”
Yes Wesley, just say it.
“Cordelia, I l..”
Cordelia and Wesley both jumped at the sound of cracking wood as both library doors swung violently against the adjacent walls. “Please, don’t let me interrupt,” Angel’s voice sounded almost silent and definitely deadly. His frightening gaze left them as he crossed the room to the weapons cage, chanting a mantra in his mind. IwillnotkillWesley. IwillnotkillWesley.
Cordelia watched Angel as he crossed the room. Closing her eyes and with a deep sigh of frustration she turned back to Wesley before opening them again. “Can we talk about this later?” she all but begged.
“Cordelia, what went on between you and Angel?”
“I thought you saw it. You said you were there.”
“No,” he continued in a whisper. “Yesterday, you said you spoke with him. What did he say to you?”
Cordelia let out a deep breath, closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. “Wesley, I’m tired. I’m too tired to figure out what you’re trying to tell me, I’m too tired to figure out what’s going on in this screwed up head of mine, and I’m certainly too tired to figure out just what has made ‘Mr. Sunshine’ over there so mad. He’s crazy. You do know that, don’t you?”
Wesley couldn’t believe what he was about to say. He didn’t trust Angel. Why should he? But for some reason it seemed right, the answer to all of this confusion. “Of course we can discuss this later. I have to return to my apartment. I seem to have forgotten a book that Mr. Giles insisted I bring. He also rang me this morning and told me that he now has the ingredient for the spell to send Angel back to his time. Would you be so kind as to tell him for me before you leave?” Without waiting for an answer from Cordelia Wesley stood and left the library.
“Fantastic,” Cordelia complained as she stood and stomped over to the opened cage. Angel, his back facing the opening, continued to select his weapons. “Ahem,” she tried. “Wesley said that Giles has the ingredient for your little spell.”
Angel continued his task, acting as if she wasn’t there.
This was new. Cordelia Chase was not used to being ignored. She readied for a biting remark, something that would really strike him where it hurts. Nothing came to mind. What should have made her mad and defensive only made her curious, and a little sad. Angel was going back. Going home. That, for some strange and unexplained reason, made her sad. She couldn’t understand it and she couldn’t understand why he was ignoring her. Just yesterday he had said they were friends, that he’d always be her friend, no matter what. But, didn’t that mean she had to be a friend too? She thought about the tone of voice she had just used and the way she had stomped to the cage. “Giles told us all, right after he found the spell, that time should set itself right. None of us will remember that any of this ever happened, except for you of course,” she said with genuine concern.
Angel continued his actions but spoke, “It’s probably for the best,” he said quietly.
“Us forgetting you, or you remembering us?”
“I guess it’s good and bad. For one thing, I’ll forget all about being poisoned. That’s a good thing.”
Angel placed the hand axe on the shelf and stood motionless, unable to turn and face her. He was glad that memory would be taken from her. She would have too many as it was. “It would be good to forget that,” he answered, wishing it could be wiped from his memory also.
“But it also means I won’t remember waking up in the mansion,” she said as if she were talking only to herself.
“Or the kiss,” she finished, dreamily reflecting on that strange but passionate moment.
Angel’s cooled temper flared again as he picked up the hand axe and flung it into his bag. He turned finally, facing her with a sarcastic look, “Well I’d think you’d be happy about that too. I mean, it was so horrible,” he said, grabbing his bag and pushing past her.
Cordelia knew she had made a mistake even bringing it up. He had made his feelings for her quite clear the night before. She tried to fight back astonishment and tears at his insult. “Horrible?” she asked following him into the library.
Angel turned quickly, nearly bumping into her. “You know that kiss was not one of my best. I mean, I watched you almost die right in front of my eyes. After Giles and Wesley found out how to cure you, I had to go and get Faith’s … information that I needed. It was almost morning by the time I got back and performed the ritual and it was pretty damn painful for me too. I was exhausted and a little delirious so it’s really not fair for you to ….”
“You cured me?”
“What?” he answered, frustrated at her interruption.
“You. You cured me? You performed the ritual?”
“I thought we covered this last night.”
“No, last night I said … what did I say last night?”
“Last night you said you could never love the man who cured you,” Angel reminded her of her painful words.
“No. Wesley,” she said very slowly.
“But Wesley didn’t cure you,” Angel placed his bag on the floor, a flicker of hope flashed through his body as he watched Cordelia struggle to piece together the truth.
Cordelia’s mind worked on the puzzling events of the last couple of days. Wesley never said he performed the spell. Of course, he never said he didn’t. Cordelia looked at Angel and walked to the sofa she and Wesley had just shared. She sat and began to talk to herself. “That must have been what he was trying to tell me,” she reasoned.
Angel walked over and took a seat next to her. “Who was trying to tell you?”
“Wesley, we were sitting here and he was trying to say something and then you came in and scared the crap out of us. After I told him how I felt about him he must have known that I thought the ritual was performed by him.”
“But it wasn’t,” he wanted to make that point clear.
“Well duh, I know that now.”
“But you have feelings for him anyway, don’t you,” Angel prepared himself for the blow.
“He’s my friend.”
“Friend?” he tested the word again, wanting her reassurance.
“Yes. Friend,” she emphasized.
“So you’re not in love with him?”
“No. Definitely not,” she stated with surety. “I’m so embarrassed. He must have known how confused I was about all of this when I rambled on about the two of us never being ‘true loves’ or ‘destined’ to be together. That must be why he sent me in there to tell you about Giles and the ingredient. He must have thought I would figure it out after talking to you.”
“Wesley told you to come talk to me?”
Cordelia nodded her head.
Wesley was a good man.
Suddenly the words ‘true love’ and ‘destiny’ began to swim around in Cordelia’s head again. Angel had saved her. He had cured her. Angel. Her true love? Her … destiny? “So, you’re the one who fit the part huh? My …” she couldn’t say it. Not out loud.
Angel reminded himself that Cordelia would not remember anything he was about to say. “That only defines me Cordelia. My feelings for you, or you two and a half years in the future.”
“So, in the future you and me,” she waved her hand between the two of them.
“Well, not exactly.”
“Oh.” Of course not.
“I haven’t actually gotten around to telling you yet.”
“Well what the hell are you waiting for?” she whined.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m scared you won’t feel the same. We become such good friends, best friends. If I tell you and you don’t feel the same way, it might ruin that.”
“Well can’t you tell if I feel the same way or not? Haven’t I given off any signs or anything? Have we even kissed?”
Angel gave her a hard look.
“I mean in the future dumbass,” her voice began to rise.
“No, but if your definition of our kiss the other night is any indication of how you feel in the future, I can safely say that that is not a good sign,” his tone rose to match hers.
“You know, horrible.”
Cordelia wanted to laugh. He thought that she thought their kiss had been horrible. It was almost funny. She gave him a small smile and her voice softened, “It wasn’t horrible Angel. It was … breathtaking.”
“Yeah,” she smiled.
“But you kept talking about the kiss, how horrible it was.”
“Oh, it was. The drool and the grabby hands. Wesley and I were definitely not meant for each other.”
“Wesley kissed you?”
Cordelia shook her head as if nothing was wrong.
“After you left the mansion?”
“Yeah,” she said, wondering why Angel was acting like it was such a big deal. She had said it was horrible.
Angel tried to suppress the mantra that had plagued him earlier by reminding himself that Wesley was a good man. A good. Dead. Man.
The battle had been fierce, but remarkably it had progressed and ended much like it had the first time. Angel stood amid the ambulances and fire trucks, listening to the authorities and their blind excuses for why the catastrophe had happened. He placed his hand over his coat pocket, double checking for the ingredient and incantation needed to send him back home. He was ready, or so he thought. He looked around the chaotic scene, trying to catch one more glimpse of Cordelia. He didn’t really understand why, he knew she was safe. He’d seen her right after the explosion. It was time to go. So what was he waiting for?
Angel scanned the crowd, his eyes settling on the figure that stood at the opposite end of the parking lot. Buffy. She looked back at him, mirroring his still, calm stare. A few days ago he had hated her for what she had done. Now, standing here amid all of this destruction, she looked so young, almost childlike. A revelation finally came to him. She was never like a child, she was a child. What was it her mother had told him? That she was a young girl in love that couldn’t see past tomorrow when it came to him. He had always known that leaving her had been the best thing for him, but he had often wondered if it had been the best thing for her.
He remembered standing just like this the first time, afraid to leave, guilt consuming him over the thought that without his help and protection, the Slayer might not survive. Didn’t survive. His mind repeated the questions he had asked himself in this spot two and a half years ago. Should he stay? Should he give up finding his place, his hopes, his life, to keep the Slayer safe? Was she too weak to stand alone? He watched as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. With her head held high, she gave Angel a tight smile, and this time, Buffy turned and walked away. Angel’s guilt faded. He had no doubt that what he had done was right for her.
Buffy was strong, she already had everything she needed even before he came along. It would have been wrong for him to have given up his place, his life, just to stay in Sunnydale to be the Slayer’s faithful but deadly weapon. She didn’t need him anymore than he needed her. She already had a destiny.
“So, you’re just going to leave without even saying goodbye?” an annoyed voice asked.
And so did he.
Cordy’s foot ached but she definitely could not go back upstairs, not yet. She had made peace with Sunnydale Angel. She had even started calling him just ‘Angel’ aloud. Of course she made sure she mentally put the ‘Sunnydale’ before it. But she still couldn’t stomach his ‘assimilation’, as Wesley called it, into their lives, into Angel’s life. He had said he wanted to go back, that he needed to in order to have what he wanted. He’d tried to make her believe that earlier today. But, Cordy had always been the kind of person who believed in actions over words and right now ‘Sunnydale‘s‘ actions screamed, “I‘m staying right where I am.” Cordelia stood straight and focused on the punching bag in front of her and tried the spin kick again.
“You’re doing it all wrong,” came the voice of the vampire she was avoiding.
Why? Why did he have to come down here right now? “You’re the one that taught it to me,” she deadpanned, trying another kick and falling to the floor.
Angel couldn’t help his amusement and smiled as he descended the basement stairs to help her to her feet. He watched as she struggled to get up before he could reach her. God this woman was driving him crazy. After they had come back from her apartment that morning, he had shamelessly tried everything he could to get a moment alone with her or steal some type of accidental touch, but it seemed as if she had been trying to avoid him. It was making him insane and driving him to thoughts that he knew were wrong. He had had to summon his ever trusty sense of guilt several times throughout the day to squelch the hope that his future self would never find his way back, but for some reason, looking at her now, the guilt just couldn’t or wouldn’t rise to the occasion.
“I’ve got it,” Cordelia tried to brush off Angel’s hands. She was already tense enough with her brain’s warning signal of ‘Sunnydale Angel, Sunnydale Angel’ going off every time he entered the room. She didn’t know if she would be able to handle the full scale code red if he had his hands on her.
“Here, let me show you,” he schooled, standing behind her and placing his hands on her hips.
All of Cordelia’s warning mechanisms went into high alert. Her body tensed at the feel of his hands on her hips. She should move them off, she knew that, but he was just trying to help. Angel had trained her like this on a daily basis. He was only doing the same. It was completely innocent. She tried to relax her body and listen to his instructions.
“No wonder you’re leaning into it so much, you’re way too tense. You have relax the muscles just a bit so you can lean out of the kick a little. It helps to give a more powerful blow to your opponent.”
Cordelia moved away from Angel’s light but steady grasp, “Oh, that’s what I was doing wrong,” she said nervously. “I’ll make sure I work on that next time.”
Angel touched her shoulder before she could walk up the stairs. “I can show you how. To relax I mean.”
Cordelia’s eyebrows raised in a suspicious look. “How?”
“Do I not teach you any social skills in the next two and half years?” Cordelia asked as she approached Angel from behind.
He cracked a rare smile and turned to face her. “I can’t say you haven’t tried.”
Cordelia’s heart warmed at Angel’s smile and she returned it with a small but brilliant one. “I’m sorry that we didn’t get to talk more this morning. There are so many things I want to know, about the future, and you.”
“You wouldn’t remember anyway.”
“I don’t know. I mean, Giles says none of us will remember any of this, but somehow that just doesn’t seem right. I’ve learned so much these last couple of days, about myself and what I want out of life. I just don’t think it’s possible to forget, not all of it anyway, especially not you.”
Angel shifted under Cordelia’s optimistic and sure gaze. She was so excepting now of what her future might bring and of him and who she thought he was. Even if it were possible for her to remember, he wondered how that look in her eye might change when she realized the pain and disappointments she would suffer time and again, most of it caused by or because of him. He looked down, unable to match the hopefulness in her eyes. “What’s this?” he asked, noticing the garment in Cordelia’s hands.
“Oh, it’s a raincoat. Wesley let me borrow it.”
“You’re not wearing it,” he answered very sharply. He had just finished congratulated himself earlier on his ability to resist killing Wesley all day and he had barely laughed when the paramedics had wheeled him by with a few bumps and bruises. But if Cordelia put that coat on, mingling her intoxicating scent with that of another man, a man that just yesterday had kissed her, he couldn’t be sure that his congratulations might not turn into years of dark guilt and painful brooding. “Here,” he began to take off his leather coat. “Take mine. You can wear it because your NOT putting THAT on.”
“Put your jacket back on Angel,” she placed a reassuring hand on his chest. “I’m not going to wear Wesley‘s coat.”
“Well, good,” Angel was caught by surprise, Cordy never did what he said. He was shocked, and a little scared.
“You are,” she handed the thick hooded raincoat to Angel.
“Weren’t you listening to Giles when he was explaining about the spell?”
No. He had grabbed the incantation and the ingredients and spent the rest of the morning concentrating on Cordelia’s every move.
“Remember? He said that he could only be sure about the when, not the where.”
“So, you may be sheltered under a total eclipse here buddy, but I don’t think you’ll have that luxury there. Who knows where you’ll end up? I can’t have my … you know …burning up on the sunny streets of ..where are we living now anyway?”
“L.A.,” Angel answered as he let Cordelia help him put on the coat.
“Hmm. I always thought I’d go to New York. Ya know, fashion capital of the U.S.. That’s where I had been planning on going anyway.”
“Well, I’m grateful for whatever changes your mind,” he confessed softly as he stood before her now, looking like a complete idiot in the oversized but way too short London Fog.
Cordelia struggled not to laugh as she tried to pull down the sleeves over Angel’s large hands. “Well, you’ll just have to put them in the pockets,” she reasoned, letting go of the material. Then, she leaned up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheek pressing tightly against his. Touching her lips to a spot of bare skin just in front of his ear, she gave him a chaste but loving kiss and then backed away. “Now, hurry up and be safe,” she said as she turned and started walking down the sidewalk. “I’ll meet you there,” she added in a whisper, knowing that Angel could hear her even as she turned the corner.
Angel smiled and dug into his pocket for the ingredients and the spell.
“It’s an ancient exercise. People call it Tai Chi now. Of course when I learned it, it was called something else,” he remembered.
“You know Tai Chi?” she questioned doubtfully.
“You don’t believe me?”
“It’s just that I’ve never seen Angel, I mean you do that before.”
“Probably because I usually do it alone. Some people think it’s a little eccentric but it helps me focus and clear my mind. Come here and I’ll show you some simple moves.”
Cordelia paused for a moment, noticing how her heart skipped a beat hearing the words ‘show you some moves’ come out of Angel’s mouth in such smooth and almost sexy manner. She laughed at herself, knowing that it was impossible for this Angel to be flirting with her. He was teaching her the basics of Tai Chi after all, not the Kama Sutra. Oh great, that was a good image. Cordelia, determined to act as if the situation was definitely not flustering her, walked toward Angel, stood beside him and faced the same direction he was. She was actually kind of relieved that at least he had decided to help in a ‘non-touching’ capacity.
“Now just raise your arms, no not that fast, look at me, very slowly and remember to breath. It’s all about breathing.”
“This coming from a man who doesn’t.”
Cordelia followed his lead. Mimicking every motion. She began to relax as her moves became as precise and fluid as Angel’s. She glanced at him, matching every graceful sweep. Angel moved his right arm and Cordelia followed. Angel brought his left arm back and Cordelia’s fell in synch. He turned to his right and so did she. This had been a wonderful idea. She was already feeling the tension drain from her body. No longer able to see Angel from her position, she began to improvise. She stretched her arms above her head, reminiscent of a ballet move she had learned as a child, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her calming heart rate and smooth breathing both jolted into high gear at the feel of Angel’s tender touch and guiding hands from behind. “What are you doing?” she asked but didn’t move away.
“It’s not a dance move Cordy. It’s more like this,” he gently laid his hands on top of hers and moved them back in front of her. As he guided her from behind, he whispered his instructions in her ear. “You have to really feel the air around you, use it for resistance.”
Cordy tried to relax again. She tried not to concentrate on the smell of his shirt or the way his soft words seemed to vibrate on the back of her ear. She tried to talk some sense into her overactive brain. ‘He’s just trying to help. He’s training me, just like Angel does. Well, not quite like Angel does.’ God this was getting confusing. She breathed deeply. It was no use. She couldn’t relax. He was making it way too hard for that. If she didn’t know him so well, she might have thought that he was using this as a come-on. But the Angel she knew would never be so cheesy as to use this as an excuse to seduce her. The Angel she knew was much too…the Angel she KNEW … wait a minute.
Angel never thought that he would miss the sewers of L.A., but the usually pungent odor smelled like sweet home as he ran east toward the Hypernion. He had done what Cordelia had asked, or ordered, by wearing the raincoat that now flapped fiercely behind his body as he sped through the tunnels underneath the city streets, never stopping to shed the forgotten an unneeded garment. He spied a familiar bend ahead of him. One more minute. The thought of that filled him with a happiness that he would have feared before his soul had been bound.
Over the course of Cordelia’s short life she had been hit on and flirted with by just about every type and breed of guy that walked the earth. It had gotten to the point where she could identify each and every line and move that men tried on her now. Except this time. This time she had been fooled, almost. Well, if he thought she was going to just stand here with his arms wrapped around her and his words tickling her ear, sending chills through her body, he had another thing coming. She was going to tell him just what an idiot he was for using training as a way to cop a feel. She was going to let him know that his future self would never stoop to such an immature and asinine level to gain her attention. She was going to turn around and punch him in the nose and call him some kind of witty adjective. Well, that’s what she had planned on until she looked up and saw the dirty figure leaning against the wall by the sewer’s entrance, his arms crossed and an angry look on his face.
“Please, don’t let me interrupt,” Angel said, sending a deadly stare to his cleaner mirror image.