Who’s Taming Who?

Frigid water awoke him with an unpleasant start. An ice cube clung to his cheek for a second before slithering down to settle uncomfortably into the crook of his neck as his head rose in shock. “What the fuck?”

The strangled snarl caused a satisfied grin to settle on the brunette’s face as she stared down at him from her place by his bed. Amused hazel eyes connected with furious amber. He was not pleased. she was more than happy to see.

“Enjoying your beauty sleep? Though I can see it hasn’t helped much,” Cordelia commented archly, tongue in cheek as the incensed demon strained at his chains before cursing prolifically and settling back with a fulminous glare and a show of feral teeth.

“I was until some useless little slut came in and woke me up,” Angelus growled out the insult and briefly scowled in disappointment when it seemed to pass over her head like water off a duck’s back. Another snarl broke loose as the thought of water reminded him of his wet hair and sodden silk shirt.

The bitch would pay for that…if ever he managed to break free from his restraints before the soul took the reins yet again. That thought aggravated him more than the smirking girl looking down at him. “Go play with Wussley- or better yet,” his pale lips twisted into a travesty of a smile, “read up on how not to be crap on stage. Not that it would make any difference to your complete lack of acting skills,” he spitefully added and felt a little pleasure at the instant tightening of her fine features. Sadly, though, it didn’t last.

Every muscle in his body tensed in wary suspicion at the shit-eating grin that slowly spread across her face. He’d learned early on not to underestimate her – not only was the title of Queen C well-earned, but the previous night was also a perfect example, and for a brief moment, Angelus wished that the prissy Watcher has-been would make a show. He had a feeling that Cordelia Chase would make a pretty impressive vampire.

“Speaking of rehearsals…” Cordelia’s hand, which until now had been hidden behind her back, and had subsequently gone unnoticed by the chained vampire, came into view, and she triumphantly flourished a sheaf of neatly bound papers. “I thought you could play at being my ‘audience’ since you haven’t got much else to do.” The evil grin grew even wider.

Angelus groaned inwardly. She hadn’t even started yet, and already he felt sick to his stomach. Instantly he revised his last thoughts: Cordelia Chase did not need to be turned into a soulless vampire to be a torturous, sadistic bitch. “Stake me now, for fuck’s sake.” He didn’t bother to mutter the words under his breath because a small part of him wanted her to hear them clearly -and hoped she’d consider doing it.

Leaning closer and making sure to keep out of reach of those wickedly sharp bared fangs, Cordelia whispered theatrically. “Believe me; I’m tempted, but two things are stopping me.” Straightening up, she turned and perched her butt on the edge of the bed, wriggling a little to get comfortable before glancing down at him. “One: Angel, my friend, is in there.”

“You’d like to think that, bitch” Angelus interrupted with a sneer. “But honestly? Angel is just a feeble shlub for a sob story and couldn’t have lived with the thought of you most definitely ending up a hooker -or worse if left to your own pathetic devices.” Score! He watched with avid malice as, for a moment, her face crumpled with sheer hurt. “Though I personally think you’d have been a real pro at it- especially with those assets.” He leered at her now-heaving breasts before flicking his gaze up to enjoy her pain and mortification.

But instead, cold hazel eyes locked with his, and he almost pouted in disappointment. If Buggy hadn’t interrupted when she had… Damn, she’d have made an exceptional vampire.

“And TWO: I need a study buddy.” Cordelia’s reminded him brightly. Her turn now to interrupt him. And boy, was it a killer.

Damn that interfering Slayer, Angelus grimaced, rolling his eyes in disgust when he caught the title of the play as she flipped over the first page. ‘The Taming of the Shrew’. Oh, he’d easily ‘tame’ her, he thought with confidence, then growled in aggravation. If ever he managed to get out of the chains pinning him to the bed, that is.

Stifling a grin at his pained expression, Cordelia pretended to concentrate on the text of the pages. Although admitting to herself that it had taken everything in her not to fold at his newest batch of insults, it had sometimes occurred to her of where she would be right now if Angel hadn’t turned up and saved her- not once, but twice by giving her a much-needed job. Only the thought of how Angel would later feel about his alter-ego’s words once he was again in control, gave her the strength of will to shove the hurt and insecurities behind an already well-constructed wall. Not really like she hadn’t known Fangy Face would dig the knife in even more but decided it was worth putting up with his verbal diarrhea to get a little payback of her own.

Cordelia’s eyes then rolled at the total sadness that was Wesley Wyndham Pryce as she flipped through the sheaf of immaculately bound paper.  It was no real surprise to find that he not only had the full set of these moldy old plays-  in books as WELL as in script-form. Not to mention all were First Editions, including one book titled: ‘The Life and Times of William Shakespeare; Reviews and Famous Quotes.’  Wes had nearly hyperventilated when she passed him, clutching the script. He dogged her steps across the room, anxiously begging her to show it ‘the deepest respect” whimpering like a puppy when she promised to do so while flipping rapidly through the treasured volume.

While Cordelia was lost in her thoughts, Angelus relished the ensuing silence. Maybe the drug would wear off before she recalled her reason to visit? No way. Then he cringed in abject horror on realizing that he was now praying for the wretched soul to take over for no other reason than to save him from the little termagant sitting comfortably on the end of his bed! Angelus seriously doubted she’d do this to the soul.

What the hell had he done so bad to be made to suffer like this, he wondered despondently? Oh, yeah… he’d employed her!

Thanks to all that’s unholy that Spike isn’t around to witness this. He almost choked at the thought, then cursed himself virulently when it roused Cordelia with a start, and after blinking like an owl at him for a moment, she cleared her throat and neatly (although Wes would have a literal cow!) folded back the loose pages.

“Since this isn’t an ‘official’ reading, I don’t need to go in any order, so I’ll just plow in, okay?” she told him briskly, deliberately ignoring the ‘like the way you did the other night?’ comment from the chained and grumpy lump on the bed.

“Well, here goes.” Clearing her throat once again and taking a deep breath, she began.

“Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak;
And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
Your betters have endured me say my mind,
And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.”

One verse and Angelus was almost begging as she, he was sure, deliberately butchered the dialogue.  “Oh, fer… Look, Cordelia, tell me what you want, and it’s yours- Anything, if you promise to stop right now,” He knew she was bad, but not that bad!

Sending him a brief ‘forget it’ look, her eyes turned back to the script.

“My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or else my heart concealing it will break,”

“Mine already has, woman!. Let. Me. LOOSE!”

“And rather than it shall, I will be free
Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words”.

“I swear to every god out there that, if you don’t ‘please’ in other ways besides words, I WILL kill you slowly and horribly when I finally get loose,” Angelus warned thickly, his left eye spasmodically twitching at this point. All he could think of was that if only a few lines had him in a near state of insanity, what would the whole play do? His bottom lip trembled at the thought.

“Yawn yawn. You’d kill me anyway, so shut the hell up.” Cordelia leaned down and poked him hard in his side with her elbow.

“Hell sounds like a good compromise to me.” Angelus managed to speak over the choking anger and fear- yes, FEAR that tightened his throat. “Open a portal to one and throw me in – or better yet, get Wussley to do it because you would most likely open one to a Mall or somewhere equally as fucking STUPID.” Her quelling expression clearly told him that he’d pretty much blown any chance of aural relief out of the water by adding that last bit and clamped his lips tightly together.

Taking a deep breath, Angelus attempted to clear his mind and find some vestige of inner peace.  He could get through this. After all, he was the Scourge of Europe! No one could torture and sadistically degrade anyone as well as him. Especially jumped up shrill sluts like Cordelia Chase…

***

Sitting comfortably in Angel’s favorite chair, Wesley sipped his tea, appreciating the fine blend his boss had so kindly stocked in his larder and sighed with contentment. Life was indeed good at this present moment in time.

“Asses are made to bear, and so are you.”

Although shuddering with horror, Wesley had to marvel at Cordelia’s unique ability to massacre a beloved work of literature without even trying. The fact that she was using this ‘skill’ on Angelus made him grin with admiration.

When she’d earlier come up with the idea -of how to ‘make that evil pond scum wish he’d never showed his face,’ Wesley had balked at the thought. All too soon, Angel would be back to his old self, and no doubt vividly recall every excruciating second of torture Cordelia doled out on his evil alter ego. Still, after assuring him that she’d take full blame on her shoulders, he’d folded faster than damp ironing.

“WESLEYYYY!” After taking another sip of his tea, Wesley leaned back with a widening grin.

Of course, it had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that a small part of him liked Cordelia’s idea of ‘ultimate payback.’ As he listened to the desperate calls of the supposedly fearless Scourge of Europe, Wes was quite convinced that the vampire’s beseeching cries lessened the throbbing pain of his head by the second.

The tea was just the icing on the cake.

~*~