Part 2
The heavy mahogany doors swung inwards on their sturdy brass hinges, permitting the entrance of two resolute men. Two men with an invisible thread of combined purpose between them, two men so familiar with the subtle nuances of each other’s work ethic, that they slotted together to form a seamless team.
“It was there, Wes – I could feel it,” Angel was saying to his friend. “Lurking, waiting for… something.”
Wesley nodded, trusting the vampire’s ability to sense the presence of another demon in the vicinity.
“I think we need to do some research into what kind of demon we might be facing, work up a MO, and a battle profile,” he decided. “And we ought to keep the pool under surveillance during opening hours. That means finding an excuse for being there without rousing suspicion.”
“Already on that, guys,” Cordelia chipped in from behind them, as the Angel Investigations team descended as one into the Hyperion Lobby.
A healthy glow had returned to the seer’s cheeks in the intervening hours since her vision. While her cure had not stopped the initial agony of her premonitions, it had mostly eliminated the ghastly after-effects. Consequently, as she circled round to stand in front of her friends, her hazel eyes were filled with the same purpose that imbued them, rather than the habitual dark, lingering pain of a vision headache.
“Ta-da!” she said, brandishing the piece of paper that she held in her hands, enormously pleased with herself for coming up with the solution to their stakeout problem.
Angel and Wesley exchanged a look of consternation, as they viewed the advertisement that Cordelia had discreetly pilfered from the pool’s notice board:
LIFEGUARD WANTED
APPLY WITHIN
Wesley cleared his throat. “Err, Cordelia – I don’t think that any of us quite…” he trailed off and glanced over at Gunn.
“Hey, don’t look at me, buddy,” Gunn said, holding up his hands to ward off any suggestion that he take the assignment. “Have you seen what those guys have to wear? I ain’t squeezing my package into no tiny pair of Lycra Speedos. No frickin’ way, José!”
“Besides, I don’t swim,” he lied.
“Relax bubba – I didn’t mean you,” Cordelia said, rolling her eyes at the young man’s frantic attempts at avoidance. “I meant Angel.”
“What?! Me?” the vampire sputtered nervously, involuntarily taking a couple of steps backwards. “No, no way, I can’t.”
“You can swim, can’t ya?”
“Well yes, but…”
“And you’re big with the saving people, being all hero-y and all.”
“..”
“And you’ve *definitely* got that manly boob muscle thing going on – especially since you’ve been doing all that training. What’s with that anyway?” she asked curiously.
“You said I was fat,” Angel told his seer the truth without thinking, then shook his head. “It’s not going to work, Cordy.”
“Why not?”
“There is the *slight* hitch that the pool area is wall-to-wall with glass windows,” Wesley helpfully pointed out.
“Oh,” Cordelia said – she’d not though of that. A beat and then, “We could tell them he’s photosensitive and get them to put up black drapes!”
The seer’s bright suggestion was greeted with a telling silence from her three male companions.
“Or maybe not,” she conceded.
“Necro-tempered glass!”
“Come again?” Wesley asked, swinging round at the excited outburst from their newest recruit.
“Sorry – just thinking out aloud. You know what it’s like when you have all these thoughts whirling about inside your brain and suddenly one leaps out and says ‘hey, look at me’ cus you know it’s the solution to your problem and…”
“Fred!”
“Oh right – I’m doing the babbling thing again, aren’t I?” the young Texan apologised, briefly pausing for a much-needed breath before continuing with her convoluted explanation. “Necro-tempered glass – it filters out the UVA rays of the sun. Apparently, those are the ones that make vampires go ‘poof.’ So if we…”
“Fit it into the windows at the pool, Angel won’t be turned into a big ole pile of dust,” Cordelia said, triumphantly finishing off the sentence for her.
“Exactly.”
“All right, so why haven’t I heard of it before?” Wesley asked.
“Probably because it’s new research – only published a week ago.”
“Show me,” he instructed, ushering the pretty brunette over to the computer, a guiding hand in the small of her back.
Fred sat down at the desk and quickly pulled up the relevant article, her dainty fingers flying over the keyboard in a blur of movement. Her eyes skimmed over the report again, stopping at the acknowledgements at the bottom. “Oh – I didn’t notice that before.”
“What?” Wesley asked, leaning over her shoulder to read what she was indicating. “Research funded by Wolfram and Hart.”
“Kind of figures,” Angel shrugged, unsurprised by the information.
“Yes, but it means we’ll struggle to get our hands on what we need. Wolfram and Hart probably own all the suppliers.”
“Ah well,” the vampire said in an offhand manner, more than a little relieved at the turn of events. “I guess we’ll just have to come up with another way of keeping an eye on things at the pool.”
“Umm,” Fred said diffidently, timidly raising her hand. “Why do we have to buy some? Couldn’t we just transmute the glass already there?”
“Transmu-whatta?” Gunn asked, mystified.
“Transmutation – to change the form or nature of something,” Wesley absently recited the English Dictionary definition of the word.
“Oh, you mean like that dude who turned everything to gold with his touch.”
“Midas? Sort of yes – the Greek God of Wine, Dionysus, enchanted him though. Other forms of transmutation are purported to be practised by white witches. They use it so they don’t have to search high and low for every ingredient for their spells – or so I’m told anyway.”
“Is Willow a white witch?” Cordelia asked.
“I imagine she qualifies, yes,” Wesley replied. “Would you happen to have a contact number for her?”
“It *happens* I might have,” the seer replied, playfully mimicking the ex-watcher’s rather stilted way of speech.
She fished in her bag for her address book, and then scribbled the relevant Sunnydale number down on a yellow post-it note for him.
“Thanks,” Wesley said, taking it from her. “Good work, Fred,” he commended the young woman, patting her lightly on the shoulder as he passed by her chair.
Fred lit up like a belisha beacon at the praise, a slow smile creeping across her pretty features and the apples of her cheeks flushing pink with bashful self-consciousness. She lifted her head to gaze appreciatively up at her boss, her brown eyes big and puppy-dog round. Wesley returned her shy smile with one of his own, and then turned and retreated into his office to call Willow.
Cordelia cast a sidelong glance at Gunn and caught him observing the little exchange with interest, a knowing look hovering over his handsome features. He caught her eye and winked, then turned to clap Angel on the shoulder, his face splitting into a wide impudent grin as he did so.
“Looks like you’re on stake-out duty, man. Rather you than me on this one, I can tell you.”
“I don’t see why you’re so anti,” Cordelia cut in. “Think of all those bikini-clad hotties you’d get to ogle.”
Now why did I mention that? Angel sure better keep his eyes to himself if he knows what’s good for him. I catch him eyeing up some skanky blonde and…
“Tempting, but no – I ain’t into publicly displaying my pecs for the ladies.” Gunn’s relaxed drawl interrupted the seer’s train of jealous thought. “Gotta maintain that man of mystery image, you know?”
“Oh, of course,” Cordelia replied, with a sardonic nod of her head and a glimmer of a smile.
She then turned and thrust the job advertisement out at Angel, “You’d better call and get yourself an interview.”
The vampire glanced at his watch, “It’s ten pm.”
“So – the pool only closed half an hour ago, I bet there’s still a manager around. Go on, it’ll make a great first impression.”
“Just don’t tell them you broke into the premises fifteen minutes ago,” Gunn put in with a grin. “I don’t think that’d go down so well with ya new boss.”
Grumbling to himself under his breath, Angel went over to the counter and dialled the number at the bottom of the piece of paper, his broad forehead creased into a distinctly sulky frown.
“Don’t think the vamp-man’s too happy about stepping into David Hasslehoff’s shorts.” Gunn commented wryly to Cordelia, tongue firmly placed in cheek.
“Too bad, he’ll just have to get over it,” the seer replied unsympathetically. “He’s the PTB’s chosen champion. Sometimes, that means going above and beyond the call of duty for the good of mankind.”
A few minutes later, Angel replaced the receiver in its cradle with a clatter, just as Wesley exited his office and rejoined them in the Lobby, a small note-pad clutched tightly in his right hand.
“I’ve got an interview at seven pm tomorrow,” the vampire announced.
“Good – that’ll give us just enough time to do some research and gather what we need for the transmutation spell.”
“It also leaves the pool and its patrons unprotected for another day,” Angel pointed out gravely.
“Actually, I think that might be all right,” Wesley said. “A couple of months ago, the media reported three drownings at that pool, each occurring exactly four days apart. There’s been nothing since then, but I imagine that’s because they started to cover it up. The regularity of the earlier killings does suggest a pattern though. You said you thought this thing was waiting for something?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe it goes through a four-day feeding cycle,” the ex-watcher postulated, “Only attacking when it needs to nourish itself. Did you get any feeling as to when the last attack occurred?”
“Not too long ago,” the vampire replied. “You could still smell the fear and violence in the air.”
“So we’re probably okay for another day then.”
“It’s a slim theory, Wes.”
“I know, but there really isn’t anything else we can do right now. We just have to hope that I’m right.”
* * * * *
The Following Morning…
“Morning, big guy. Is that coffee I smell?”
“Yeah, I just put on a fresh pot,” Angel replied, looking up as his seer gracefully descended the stairs into the Lobby. “There are donuts as well – Fred went out to the bakery a couple of hours ago.”
While the vampire’s eyes avidly followed her every move, Cordelia poured herself some coffee and selected a sugary ring donut from the pink cardboard box on the counter. Like all his friends, the seer had stayed over at the Hyperion last night, but unlike the others, she had slept eight hours straight. Angel had noticed that she had a tendency to do that after a vision nowadays. At first, it had concerned him until Wesley pointed out that it was probably due to the mystical elixir she’d been given to eliminate the harmful effects of her visions.
“The human body rejuvenates itself during sleep, Angel,” the ex-watcher had explained to the worried vampire. “I imagine the potion keeps her in a state of slumber while it repairs her damaged brain cells.”
“So, where is everyone?” Cordelia asked, crossing the room towards him, mug of coffee and donut in hand.
“They went out to get supplies for the transmutation spell, I think.”
The seer sat down on the circular sofa opposite him, and folded her legs up underneath her. “You know, you *have* to be the most sun-worshipping vamp ever!” she commented.
“Huh?”
“I mean, what with the Gem of Amarra, that Moaning demon turning you human once, Pylea and now this – you’re Baywatch Vamp.”
“Moira Demon,” the vampire corrected absently. “I guess I am at that,” he added with a soft smile.
“Well – yeah! Maybe we can do the transmutant thingy on the windows here at the Hotel, then you can…”
“No, Cordelia.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason, I smashed the Gem of Amarra. I don’t want to forget who I was, the motivation for my mission. If I could walk in the daylight, I might start to overlook the innocents who are lost in the night.”
“Is that why you’ve not…,” Cordelia stopped and looked down at her hands, taking a deep breath and preparing herself to broach the subject she dreaded. “Why you’ve not gone back to Buffy now your soul’s permanent? You’re afraid that being free to love her could tempt you into abandoning your fight for redemption.”
“No, Cordy, I…”
“Cus that’s kind of dumb, you know,” she rushed on, not giving him the chance to speak. “You’re just not the kind of guy who jumps ship like that. And if this is because of me, because you feel a duty to remain by my side cus of the visions…”
“It’s not a duty, Cor.”
“Whatever,” the seer brushed that off with an airy wave of her hand. “I would come with you, you know – to Sunnydale, that is.”
“You’d hate that.”
“Maybe, but I’d still do it – for the mission; for you – if being with her made you happy. At the end of the day, the helpless are not just confined to the streets of LA; they exist wherever in the world you go.”
“Cordy – listen to me.” Angel sat up straighter and reached forward to take her hands in his. “There’s nowhere else I want to…”
“You’re really kind of pale, you know.”
“What?” the vampire snapped sharply, irritated at yet another interruption.
Cordelia was intently studying their joined hands, comparing their contrasting skin tones, a troubled look on her beautiful face.
“A lifeguard is supposed to be Mr Bronzed-And-Supremely-Muscular. You’ve got the supremely muscular part down, but the bronzed part…” she trailed off and shook her head in dismay. “You’re never gonna pull it off.”
“Not much I can do about that – the pallid complexion kind of goes with the territory, what with the whole going out in the sun and bursting into flames thing. And it’s not as if I can buy a tan in bottle, now is it?”
Cordelia’s face lit up so brightly when the idea struck her, that Angel could almost see the light bulb in captions above her head. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“A tan in a bottle!”
The seer excitedly set her breakfast aside, and then scrambled to her feet. Crossing to stand in front of the bemused vampire, she placed her sandaled foot on his muscular thigh and pulled back her cotton skirt, exposing the entire length of her long, slim leg to his perusal.
“Look – See?” she said, pointing at her inner thigh with her forefinger.
Angel’s bodily response to the sight of all that golden flesh on display was instantaneous, and he swiftly dropped both hands into his lap to cover his groin’s rather visible reaction. Swallowing hard and clearing his throat, he blinked owlishly, unable to drag his eyes away from the small mole decorating the dimple on the inside of her knee. “Err – see what?”
“My skin – the colour, you dumbass!”
“Sun-kissed honey,” Angel murmured abstractedly, his tone rich and thick like molasses. Absently lifting his hand, he lightly twirled the pad of his forefinger over the soft skin of her inner thigh.
Cordelia let out a small gasp as the vampire’s cool touch raised goose bumps on her flesh. Her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, she abruptly removed her foot from his thigh and smoothed her skirt down, forcibly tamping down the hot, clenching arousal that had unexpectedly been stirred within her.
“Exactly,” she said, once she’d regained her composure. “And when do you think this skin gets time to be kissed? Never – brain churning visions, ugly ass demon attacks, not to mention unseemly working hours – all that doesn’t give a girl much time for the finer things in life.”
“So how?”
“It’s fake. Shelley’s tanning salon down the street is the best around. Lorne pointed me in her direction ages ago. She works a little bit of magic mojo after the conventional St Tropez treatment, and it’s well nigh impossible to tell the difference from the real thing.”
“St Tropez treatment?”
“It’s a cream – it causes the same reaction in your skin that being exposed to the sun does, just without having to sit out in all those cancer-inducing rays for hours. All the stars are having it done nowadays. It’s voila – instant tan.”
Cordelia paused and reached out her hand towards him. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“To Shelley’s, dork-face. You need to get a patch test done. We have to make sure that you won’t burn to a crisp before you go for the full-body treatment.”
“Full body what?!”
“Come on, get yer butt moving,” the seer ordered in a peremptory tone, completely ignoring the vampire’s scandalized protest.
Against his better judgment, Angel stood up and reluctantly offered Cordelia his car-keys, reaching for the thick woollen blanket draped over the sofa back. Eagerly snatching the keys from him, the seer twirled round with a barely suppressed squeal of delight, and practically skipped towards the Hyperion’s front entrance.
“This is going to be so cool!”
Muttering darkly to himself, the vampire wrapped the large blanket around his shoulders and head to protect himself from the sun’s rays, and then grudgingly followed the inappropriately enthusiastic young woman out to the car.