Where The Heart Is

Title: Where The Heart Is
Author: Becjane
Posted: 11-03-2004
Rating: PG13
Content: A/C
Summary: This story is based on a challenge by Cali, the full details of which can be found at the end of the post as it’s rather spoilery. The general gist of it is to re-write the ending of Sanctuary with a C/A slant.
Spoilers: None – set in ATS Season 1 after the episode ‘Sanctuary’
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Just ask
Notes: I’ve been suffering from a major case of writer’s block with ACOF and Baywatch Angel just recently. This short standalone is an attempt to kick-start my muse again. It’s PG-rated. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking – what? It’s a Becky fic! LOL! I was determined to write a non-NC-17 fic one of these days though. Hope you enjoy!
The story starts in the last few minutes of Sanctuary, so borrows some of the dialogue from that eppy. It also contains some B/A – sorry it’s necessary.
Thanks/Dedication: Dedicated to Cali, because her challenge was so detailed that I didn’t have to come up with a plot line. She therefore deserves some of the credit.


They stood facing one another in the deserted corridor of the LA police station, each dressed top to toe in inky black. Two former lovers, once so close, but now acutely aware of how far apart they had grown in the recent months of self-enforced separation.

Angel was leaning against the stair-rail, intently studying his booted feet as he tried in vain to come up with something to say to fill the increasingly awkward, and ever-lengthening, silence between them. It was Buffy who finally broke the tense deadlock however.

“You should have told me what was going on,” she said, her voice thick and heavy with self-righteous accusation.

A flare of anger flickered inside the vampire at the implication that his every decision should be run by her first. As always though, he quashed the majority of his irritation, so his answer, when it came, sounded stuttery and apologetic in spite of the pointed bite of the words.

“I didn’t – I didn’t think it was your business.”

The blond slayer stiffened, her pretty features growing hard and her blue eyes turning to chips of ice. “Not my business?” she asked, a note of incredulity creeping into her tone.

“I needed more time with Faith, I’m not sure…” Angel started to explain the responsibility he felt to aid the brunette slayer in her hour of need, but Buffy interrupted before he could finish.

“You needed… Do you have *any* idea what it was like for me to see you with her? That you went behind my back…”

The tight reigns on the vampire’s temper started to unravel at this unwarranted charge. “Buffy, this wasn’t about you!” he snapped in frustration. “This was about saving somebody’s soul. That’s what I do here, and you’re not a part of it. That was your idea, remember? We stay away from each other.”

“I came here because you were in danger.”

Yeah right! “I’m in danger every day. You came because of Faith. You were looking for vengeance.”

“I have a right to it,” Buffy rejoined defensively.

“Not in my city,” Angel immediately shot back.

The blond slayer was momentarily rendered speechless by this territorial claim from her ex-boyfriend. It was starkly apparent that Angel had built a new life for himself here in LA – one that didn’t include her. That hurt, and her wounded pride escaped in the cruellest possible way.

“I have someone in my life now,” she told him, a beat and then the sting in the tail. “That I love.”

Angel already knew that – courtesy of Faith’s earlier slip-up – but the forewarning didn’t make hearing it now any easier. He dropped his gaze and swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, his chocolate brown eyes turning suspiciously shiny as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

“It’s not what you and I had – it’s very new,” Buffy continued, her eyes intent on his reaction to her words.

Suitably gratified with the response that she was engendering, she stepped closer and concluded her revelation with a purposely callous punch line. “You know what makes it new? I trust him – I know him.”

At this, Angel sharply let out the unneeded breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding, finally allowing all the anger and hurt inside to break free in a rush of powerful sentiment.

“That’s great!” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s nice you moved on – I can’t! You found someone new – I’m not allowed to, remember? I see you again; it cuts me up inside, and the person I share that with is me! You don’t know me anymore, so don’t come down here with your great new life and *expect* me to do things your way. Go home!”

Buffy held his stormy gaze for a brief moment, and then stalked across the corridor to pick up her suede, tan-coloured jacket. Angel walked over to the wall and braced his hands against it, deliberately keeping his back turned to the unrepentant slayer.

“See?” she said, pausing at the top of the staircase. “Faith wins again.”

”Go!” the vampire ground out from between clenched teeth, refusing to look at her as she started to descend the steps.

Buffy silently left, the thud-thud sound of her heartbeat gradually fading into the distance. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Angel slammed his palms hard against the wall, dislodging a few chunks of plaster with the force of the blow.

”You all right?”

The vampire twisted his head around at Wesley’s concerned question, watching as his friend slowly walked down the corridor to join him. Reversing his position, he leant his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, his arms folded across his chest.

“For a taciturn, shadowy guy – I’ve got a big mouth,” he commented with a wry grimace.

”Do you want to go after her?”

”Yes,” he admitted.


Angel snapped his astonished eyes up to the Englishman’s steady gaze. “To apologise for yelling at her like that. I mean, I left Sunnydale so that she could have some semblance of a normal life, and then I give her grief because she found it.”

“Look – maybe this none of my business – but if you want my opinion, *you* have nothing to feel sorry for. If anyone should be apologising, it’s Buffy. She knows you don’t have the same freedom to move on as she has, and yet she still threw her new relationship in your face like that. It was both cruel and heartless, not to mention completely unnecessary. I don’t understand why you crave her love so much, Angel. It’s not like it’s unconditional – and yet yours for her seemingly is.”

The vampire was silent as the harsh truth of Wesley’s words penetrated his consciousness. In the past, he had been so immensely grateful for the blessed warmth of Buffy’s love, that he had permitted her to treat him with a lack of respect. He had almost always allowed her to call the shots in their relationship – in fact, their break-up was pretty much the one and only decision that he recalled having made for the two of them.

At the time, he had thought leaving Buffy would mean retreating back into the shadows that he used to live in, and yet, somehow, it hadn’t turned out that way. He had friends now, true friends, not to mention Angel Investigations and his mission for the Powers That Be. It all gave him a real purpose in life, something he had never really had before, not even back in Sunnydale with the blond slayer by his side.

Why was her love still so important to him then?

The unexpected answer hit him with a sudden lightening bolt of clarity. It wasn’t, not anymore, he was surviving just fine without her. There were still times when he missed her, but – in relation to when he had first arrived in LA – those moments were few and far between. The all-consuming love had diminished into a bittersweet nostalgia, which he had mistakenly believed to be evidence of the continued constancy of his feelings. He had told himself he would never get over her, and therefore he hadn’t.

The strong streak of selfishness in Buffy’s nature was suddenly so very clear to him though, whereas before he had viewed that side of her personality through rose-tinted glasses. Whenever her behaviour had annoyed him in the past, he remembered repeatedly telling himself that she was young, impressionable, and heavily burdened with the monumental task of being the slayer. By excusing her faults in this way, he had maintained the illusion of her as the perfect woman in his mind.

He could no longer do that, however; the last few hours’ events had changed his opinion of her irrevocably. The slayer had never been so outright bitchy towards him before, and this time he wasn’t able to ignore it. He called to mind their earlier conversation about Faith to hammer home that point to himself.

“I know Faith did some bad things to you.”

“You can’t possibly know.”

“And you can’t possibly know what she’s going through.”

”And of course, you do? I’m sorry, I can’t be in your club; I never murdered anybody.”

It may have been the truth, but the way she’d said it… it reminded him that his evil past had never been a closed book as far as Buffy was concerned.

She liked to believe that Angelus was a completely separate entity from his souled alter ego, whereas in reality they were one and the same. He belatedly realised that he had gained more acceptance from the friendship of Cordelia, Doyle and Wesley, than he had ever gotten from the girl who supposedly loved him with everything she was.

Wesley stood by, quietly observing the myriad of thoughts and emotions that flickered across Angel’s angular features as all this ran through his mind. The ex-watcher didn’t think he’d ever seen quite so much outward emotion from the reticent vampire before. Although his darkly expressive eyes often gave away the depth of his internal feelings, Angel’s handsome face was usually a blank mask in situations such as these – not so today however.

He eventually seemed to reach some sort of conclusion and squared his shoulders, focusing his gaze back on his friend’s expectant face. Wesley accepted this silent acknowledgement with a brief incline of his head, but then continued on with the lecture, still feeling the need to point out a few things that seemed to have escaped the vampire’s notice.

“I get why you empathise with Faith, Angel, I do. *But*, in your efforts to help her, you seem to have forgotten the feelings of the other people who have been affected by all of this.”

Angel cringed as he took in his friend’s cut lip and bruised face, knowing the flesh underneath the man’s pale blue shirt and dark beige coat was similarly marked. Faith had really done a number on the poor guy, and he had swept it under the carpet as if it meant virtually nothing. “God Wes, I’m sorry…”

“I didn’t mean me,” the ex-watcher brusquely waved aside his apology. “I’m not the only one who ended up on the wrong side of our wayward slayer’s meltdown, remember?”

“Cordelia…” Angel whispered, a sharp stab of guilt running through him. He had hardly given his seer a second’s thought since yesterday.

“Exactly,” Wesley’s reproachful statement cracked like a whip and the contrite vampire winced.

“She took paid vacation,” he half-heartedly protested.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

Angel shook his head, suddenly filled with a healthy dose of remorse. He knew Cordelia well enough to take her bright and breezy exterior yesterday morning with a pinch of salt, but, at the time, his mind had been elsewhere, preoccupied with helping Faith find the path to her redemption. Therefore, the vulnerability that lay beneath the seer’s thin veneer of cheeriness had barely even registered with him.

“Do you know where she is?” he asked quietly.

“Holed up in her apartment, nursing her injured face, I shouldn’t wonder. She resembled a victim of domestic abuse yesterday morning, or didn’t you notice?”

“Okay, I get the picture, Wes. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Sometimes I think I do. Cordelia has shown a whole lot more loyalty to you than Buffy ever has. And yet, she doesn’t seem to command even half the consideration that you heap onto your ex-girlfriend. There’s something very wrong with that, you know; Cordelia deserves better from you. All I’m saying is that *maybe* it’s time you got your priorities straight.”

Seeing the true regret in the vampire’s deep brown eyes, Wesley was finally satisfied that his message had been suitably received and understood, and he, all of a sudden, felt bone-tired.

“Well, I think I’m going to go home.” he said with a weary sigh. “It’s been a long and eventful couple of days, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll drive you,” Angel offered automatically. “Umm – you and Buffy did come here in my car, right?”

“Yes,” Wesley replied with a tired smile, dropping the keys into the vampire’s outstretched hand. “And thanks.”

“No problem.”


Forty-five minutes later, Angel turned the sleek, black Plymouth into the parking lot at Cordelia’s apartment building. He took the stairs to the first floor two at a time, and jogged down the corridor to the familiar door at the end.

Glancing at his watch, he hesitated – it was nearly four in the morning, hardly the time to turn up, unannounced, on his seer’s doorstep. He frowned, reluctant to leave and return later, however. Wesley had got him thinking; he needed to check that Cordelia was all right.

Do ghosts sleep? he absently wondered.

Rapping lightly on the door, he called through the thick wood, keeping his voice deliberately low. “Hey Dennis, it’s me – Angel. Can you let me in please?”

There was a brief pause, and then he heard the noise of the chain being removed from the door and the scraping sound of a key turning in the lock. The heavy wooden panel swung inwards on its hinges, seemingly of its own accord, and Angel stepped over the threshold, quietly murmuring his thanks to Cordelia’s phantom roommate.

As he moved down the entrance hall into the living space, a floating pad of paper appeared in front of his face. Squinting to see the words in the darkness, the vampire read the message that Dennis had scrawled across the front page in red felt-tip.


Angel smiled at the ghost’s over-protectiveness. “I won’t,” he promised. “I just wanted to see if she was okay.”


“Yes, so I’ve already been told,” the vampire agreed, a trifle ruefully.

The door to Cordelia’s bedroom was slightly ajar. Pushing it open all the way, Angel entered on silent feet, grateful for his vampire stealth. He crossed to the window and pulled back the drape, illuminating the figure on the bed with the silver-white rays of the moon.

The seer was asleep, her beautiful face peaceful in repose. Her shapely body was curled up into a C-shape, her right cheek resting on her upturned palm. She wore a pale-coloured nightshirt that covered her to mid-thigh, leaving her long slender legs exposed to the elements, the bed-covers having slid from the mattress onto the floor.

Before he knew what he was doing, Angel found his eyes making a slow appreciative sweep over every inch of her. Starting at her painted toenails and dainty feet, his gaze travelled up the length of her toned limbs to the hem of her nightshirt. His eyes then moved on upwards to where the fingers of her left hand rested lightly against her stomach, and he smiled at the picture of a cartoon character that adorned her clothing. The garment was not what you’d expect from such a fashion-conscious nineteen year old.

When his wandering gaze finally reached her face though, his eyes screeched to a grinding halt. The pale moonlight had leeched away the majority of the colour to leave just varying shades of black and blue, but, by Angel’s horrified reckoning, the entire left side of her face must be painted with every hue of the rainbow.

“Jesus!” he muttered under his breath as he lowered his body into the chair by the bed.

His nagging guilt prayed heavily on his mind as he recalled the state in which he’d found Cordelia the previous night. She’d been shaking, almost hysterical, Faith’s unscheduled appearance knocking her for six – in more ways than one. He’d had to wrap her in a blanket to bring her body temperature back to normal, and it had been a good ten minutes before he’d gotten any real sense out of her. Then, after she’d helped him locate Faith, he’d left without a backward glance and hadn’t really checked in on her since.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care – far from it – it’s just that when he set his mind on something, he could be decidedly one-track about it. Two nights ago, the primary goal had been to find Faith and rescue Wesley from her clutches. Cordelia had not been top priority, and she had consequently slipped off his radar – until their mutual friend had firmly placed her back on it.

Leaning forward, Angel gently tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind the sleeping woman’s ear and resolved to make more of an effort from now on. Wesley was right; Cordelia was loyal to him, without a fault, and he hadn’t properly appreciated the unreserved friendship she gave before now.

She was good for him, he knew. With her youthful energy and quick wit, she prevented him from retreating into the dark shadows of the demon world, and forced him to remain in the light of humanity. Now that he was learning to let go of his stifling love for Buffy, the vampire was gradually beginning to realise just how much his friendship with Cordelia really meant to him. The thought of something happening to her… well, it just didn’t bear thinking about.

With a deep sigh, Angel got to his feet and retrieved the discarded bedclothes from the floor. He tenderly covered up Cordelia’s slumbering form, then bent to press a soft kiss on her forehead before settling back in the chair to quietly watch over her while she slept.


Next morning, Cordelia woke to the sounds of clanking pots and pans from the kitchen.

Whatcha doin’ Dennis? she thought irritably, annoyed at having her peaceful slumber disturbed.

As the heavy fog of sleep lifted, her nose twitched, reacting to the delicious smell of coffee that wafted in from the other room.

Aww! He’s making me breakfast, she thought with a smile. He’s such a sweetie! Wait a minute! Does he actually know how to cook?

Her hazel eyes opening wide, the seer hurriedly threw back the covers and swung her feet over the edge of the mattress. Not bothering to don her robe and slippers, she exited her bedroom and padded barefoot across the lounge to investigate what was going on. Reaching the archway that separated off the apartment’s small kitchen from the living space, she came to an abrupt halt, her mouth dropping open in astonishment.

“Hey – you’re awake!” Angel said, turning around and gracing her with one of his rare smiles.

Warmed from the inside out, Cordelia started to smile back, but her expression froze when something occurred to her. “How did you get in?” she demanded.

“Dennis,” was the vampire’s succinct reply.

“Oh great! So now my friendly neighbourhood ghost is letting just anyone past the door. I mean, first Faith, and then you. Talk about security – not!”

“I doubt he could’ve stopped Faith, and I’m not ‘just anyone’ – Dennis knows I would never hurt you.”

Cordelia’s lips quirked up at the offended edge to Angel’s voice – until she remembered that he was supposed to be in her bad books.

“So where is Little Miss Psychotic anyway? Shouldn’t you be catering to her every whim? Maybe baking her a cake, or something?”

“She’s in jail – she gave herself up to the cops last night.”

The seer’s eyes widened at that. “Well, well,” she said. “Guess there’s some hope for her, after all.”

“She’s got a chance. She’s on the right path now, but where she goes from here is really up to her.”

“Faith is lucky that she had you on her side. After what she’s done, there are not many who would be so prepared to give her a second chance, Angel.”

“As Buffy so readily proved,” the vampire remarked with a resigned sigh.

“Wait a minute – Buffy was here?!”

“Umm, yeah – she showed up yesterday morning, not long after you left.”

Cordelia pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, her anger at him subsiding somewhat as her innate curiosity got the better of her. “Okay, so spill. What happened? Was there a big slayer smack-down?”

The inquisitive seer rested her chin in her cupped hands, looking up at the vampire with large, expectant eyes as she waited on tenterhooks to hear what he had to say. She was a sucker for a good story, and this one sounded like it could be a doozy and a half.

Angel smiled at the eagerness with which she enquired about the confrontation between Buffy and Faith. “Hello – bloodthirsty much?” he teased, as he slid into the chair next to her with a cat-like grace.

Something was different about him, Cordelia realised as she took in his relaxed posture. Usually after a visitation from Buffy, his disposition was as black as the clothing he wore, but today, he seemed almost tranquil, his mood calm and unexpectedly upbeat.

“Well – yeah!” she answered. “I know for a fact that Faith throws a mean right hook, and I was always gonna applaud the day that Cry-Buffy got knocked off her pedestal. It’s not easy listen to your boyfriend go on and on about how wonderful his ‘just-good’ friend is all the time, you know. More fool me for hooking up with another of perfecto-slayer’s mega-fans here in LA, huh?”

Angel reached out and gently touched her bruised face with cool fingertips. “How’s it feel?” he asked with genuine concern. “Did you put some ice on it?”

“Well, aside from the fact that it’s throbbing like all get out, and I look like I should be in an abused women’s shelter, it’s fine. And yeah, Dennis was a real sweetie and held an ice-pack to it for hours. I guess ghostly arms don’t get tired.”

“It’s good that he takes care of you,” the vampire remarked, his stomach burning with self-reproach because he hadn’t been around to look after her himself. “Look – about yesterday morning, I’m sorry I wasn’t more considerate of yours and Wes’s point of view, it’s just…”

“You wanted to help Faith,” Cordelia finished the sentence for him.

“Yeah – I failed to do so in Sunnydale, and I needed to make up for that. It doesn’t excuse the way I brushed aside what had happened to you both though.”

“Angel – it’s who you are.”

“What, a selfish moron?”

“No,” the seer said, prepared to let him off the hook, seeing as he had actually apologised for once. “You just get so focused on helping someone that you miss what’s happening around you sometimes. I know it’s not deliberate.”

“It isn’t, but I will try to be a bit more aware in the future, I promise.”

“Well, that’s all right then,” Cordelia said, leaning over and punching him lightly on the upper arm. “So – come on, big guy – I wanna hear all about the big Buffy and Faith fight.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but it didn’t really happen that way…”

Starting with that, Angel began to fill his seer in on the events of the previous day, while she listened with avid interest.

“Bet cop lady was pissed,” she interjected at one point.

“You could say that, she threatened to lock me in a cell with a spectacular view of the sunrise if I recall.”

“Ouch! That could have been nasty.”

“Faith was already there when we showed up though, so I was luckily saved from the bursting into flames experience.”

“And what about you and Buffy?” Cordelia asked, her question unfortunately coming across a little too eagerly.

“Yeah, I know – pry much?” she added off his amused look. “But hey, it’s me – non-tacto girl – so what do you expect?”

“Me and Buffy, huh?” Angel mused quietly, trying to get his thoughts in order. “I guess I learned something about our relationship today.”

“You did? Like what?”

“Like that I can live without her; that I’ve somehow moved on without even being aware of it. There’s no going back now, Cordy. It’s over – for good.”

“Wow!” the seer murmured incredulously. That had been the last thing she expected to hear.

“Yeah,” Angel agreed with a half-smile.

They were silent for a moment as they each digested the implications of the vampire’s stunning revelation.

“Damn, I really liked that show. Too bad The Powers That Be decided to cancel it,” Cordelia cut in eventually, jutting her lower lip out into a mock pout.

“Err – what show?” Angel asked, baffled by the sudden change in subject.

“’Me and the Chosen One’, dumbass!”

Cordelia’s expression was perfectly serious for a moment, and then she flashed him that wide, brilliant smile of hers, the one that lit up her whole face with its radiance and softened her eyes to whirlpools of melted caramel.

It took a while for the puzzled vampire to figure out what she meant, but then it clicked into place and he threw back his head and laughed heartily at her impudent quip. Cordelia shivered as the rich, deep sound reverberated down her spine, prompting warm tingles in her belly.

“Stop that!” she said sharply, half to herself and half to him. “It’s freaky – you’re supposed to be Mr Dark and Broody, not Mr Happy and Relaxed.”

Angel grinned at her. “I’ll try and contain myself,” he promised.

“You do that – we don’t want Angelus paying an unscheduled visit, now do we?” Cordelia replied, as she shifted position on her chair.

The vampire’s gaze dropped from her face, watching as she curled one leg up under her, and placed the heel of her other foot on the edge of the chair seat. As she wrapped her arms around her bent knee, her nightshirt slithered down her shapely thighs, exposing the entire length of her legs to his perusal. Angel bit back a groan, knowing that she was completely unaware that she was giving him an unobstructed view of the simple white cotton panties that she wore underneath her nightclothes, in the process.

It was weird, although he hadn’t been completely oblivious before, he was suddenly very conscious of the fact that his seer was a stunningly beautiful woman. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her; she stirred something within him that he hadn’t felt for a very long time. He knew he should try to suppress it, but he simply didn’t want to.

When his gaze lingered a little too long, Cordelia finally cottoned on to the fact that his attention was no longer on their conversation. Trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach that his dark gaze provoked, she attempted to cover them up with a sharp remonstrance.

“Err – excuse me! I think my face is a little further north, bucko. Geez! Perv much, why don’t ya?”

Angel was strangely unrepentant about his ogling, and he winked at her suggestively. “Well, if you will go around half-dressed…” he replied, his deep voice vibrant with a rich sensuality. “I mean, what’s a normal red-blooded guy to do? Except look, that is.”

Cordelia was quite simply shocked to the core. Whoa! Is he actually flirting with me? Oh, this is so not good, so not good at all.

Her body’s reaction belied the more sensible response of her mind, however. Her heart was hammering a drumbeat inside her chest, her blood rushing through her veins and echoing in her ears. She flushed pink and quickly dropped her legs to the floor, awkwardly tugging down her nightshirt to cover herself up.

Striving not to laugh at her embarrassment, Angel took pity on her and returned their conversation to safer ground. “So – you want blueberry or plain?”

“Huh?” Cordelia looked up at him dumbly, confusion rife in her hazel eyes.

“Pancakes,” the vampire explained patiently.

“Oh right! Blueberry please, they’re my favourite. Cora – our house-keeper – used to make them for me all the time.”

Angel went back over to the counter-top and threw a handful of fresh blueberries into the pancake mix that he had made up earlier. He then turned to the stove and lit the ring under the frying pan, preparing to finish off making her breakfast.

Cordelia watched as the vampire moved fluidly about her kitchen, showing off his culinary skills to their maximum effect. She decided she could get used to this new, more open, Angel.

Rather unexpectedly, he had discarded that protective suit of armour of his, and allowed her to see what lay beneath that stoic exterior. She felt strangely honoured that he trusted her enough to do that, and resolved to entrust him with her own fragile heart in return – despite the nagging warning in the back of her mind.

Angel, in turn, found himself imbued with a renewed hope for the future. With this bright, intelligent woman by his side, he had confidence that he could face whatever obstacles fate decided to throw in his path. He knew there were still mountains to climb – finding a way to overcome his curse for one – but he refused to shy away from them as he had done in the past.

He couldn’t have ignored their presence anyway, not even if he wanted to – not when he was finally beginning to realise just where his heart truly lay…

The End

The Challenge:

In the police Station where Buffy let Angel have it with both barrels, throwing Riley in Angel’s face.

That part always made me so angry, and it showed just what a bitch Buffy could be, plus the convo b/t them was very enlightening. And when he followed her to apologise…well, that pissed me off like you wouldn’t believe.

Now, there is a way to turn this round to a C/A piece- and why not?!

Wes joins Angel once Buffy leaves.

Can it be that he overheard the conversation and Angel tells him of his decision to go after her.

I want Wes to question his decision. pointing out how Angel could, after all fluffy said, go running after her to apologise for HER behaviour?

Does he love her that much? Angel doesnt reply- mainly because, on being asked outright, it made him wonder; did he? in fact, did he love her any more?

That convo showed him a side he’d always ignored in the past, and he hadn’t liked it. in fact had found it and her distastful, actually wondering what he saw in her in the first place. Gratitude, that’s what.

Wes goes on to say… You chase afer her like a puppy after you supposedly hurt her feelings, yet a girl who has stood by you for a long time gets injured and you rarely give her a second look/thought.

Does it even occur to him where Cordleia has been? make it two days as I can’t recall how long it was. All I know was that she wasnt around.

Angel realises sickly that he hadn’t given it another thought when first she’d been hurt by Faith and then when she told him she was taking paid leave.

Wes informs him that she hasn’t left her apartment since and her injury is slow to heal, being human and all, hit by a powerful Slayer.

He suggests Angel get his priorities straight and leaves him alone with his thoughts.

What does Angel do?

Does he ignore that and still go to see Buffy, or does he rethink and pull out his thoughts and feelings on the brunette, which gears him to action? He has pushed Cordelia aside twice since she’s been with him in LA; first with Buffy when he became human for a day, and then when he decided Faith needed him more.

Does he wonder belatedly why the loyal, caring brunette is still around?

I would love a sweet, and hopefully hot conclusion to this fic. Would anyone feel like doing it for me? *flutters eyelashes*


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