Part 2
“Wesley! I met with…”
The large muscular frame, the monotone layers of black, the expectant look. Cordelia froze mid-step, unable to speak or pull back her disbelieving stare.
Lips stretched into a goofy grin, his eyes twinkled with the gleeful enthusiasm of a child racing downstairs in anticipation of ripping through the colorful wrappings, and finding that one perfect gift under the tree.
It was a dream, Cordelia rationalized. She was still in bed, waiting for Dennis to wake her with a cup of steaming coffee to soothe the agitations of another restless night.
“Ouch!” But a hard pinch to her arm dispelled any illusion of sleep.
Head spinning and vision blurred, she saw the outstretched hands moving toward her; and with just the anticipation of his touch burning her skin, Cordelia instinctively stepped from his reach.
Angel slowed his stride, confusion overshadowing his previous excitement. Surprise he had expected, but this uneasiness he sensed, the tense line of her lips pressed together, and her nervous retreat, felt like a kick in his gut.
“Cordelia?” He called out in low, raspy whisper. Met with silence, Angel took a step closer; and despite Cordelia’s visible apprehension, attempted to connect with her again.
But before his words could form, a startled, “Good heavens,” followed by a grunted, “Whoa man,” sounded; and hearing Cordelia’s relieved sigh, Angel backed off, offering Wesley and Gun a hesitant nod instead.
The untimely intrusion breaking their strained reunion, Angel looked around the lobby for the first time since his arrival. Except for the obvious attention to cleanliness, the hotel looked much as it had when they moved in. Shelves were empty, supplies packed; and boxes, some sealed and others half filled littered the lobby floor.
“Why are we packing?”
****
Cordelia stepped out onto the balcony, anxious to enjoy the cool night air, and the rest of her drink without Dennis’ disapproval. No wonder people excise ghosts, she mused. Who knew they were such worrywarts?
“The doctor said I could have an occasional drink, Dennis. Besides, I won’t need the pain medication much longer.” She yelled into the apartment, receiving a hard thump against the glass for her trouble. “Fine, be mad. But the line for pissed off forms here.”
Wesley’s recap of his conversation with Angel hadn’t been surprising. A grunt here and there followed by a few nods, then Angel taking off without saying a word. It wouldn’t have gone any differently no matter who had told him about their plans, Cordelia reasoned. Although, she admitted, hiding out in her apartment like a coward while Wesley dealt with Angel, did up the guilt a notch or two.
Feeling a slight wane in her conviction, Cordelia reminded herself that Angel’s untimely return wasn’t a twist of fate. And try as she might, there wasn’t reason for her to believe anything had changed. Whether now or later, the silent warning screamed inside her head, this move was inevitable; because it was only a matter of time before he would leave her again. “No more,” Cordelia shook her fist against her heart’s desires, determined that Angel would never hurt her again.
Resolve shaky but intact, her thoughts turned to hopes of finally getting a peaceful night’s sleep. But first, she had a disgruntled ghost to pacify. “Dennis, get ready to apologize because I’m not-”
The almost soundless flutter of the dark coattail caught her eye, a startled gasp blowing only seconds before the wine glass shattered at her feet.
“What the hell are doing?” Cordelia demanded, her voice breaking from the jolt of her back hitting against the railing.
“We need to talk.”
Waves of doubt and guilt faded as anger rose up taking their place. Angel had disappeared for months without a word, and needing to talk, was his explanation for leaping onto her balcony.
“I’m not having this conversation, Angel. Wesley already explained everything.”
Suspecting a spell would prevent him from following, Angel grabbed Cordelia, spinning her around to face him before she could make it back inside.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about Wesley.” The angry glare and tight hold remained, but his voice calmed to husky whisper as his head dipped bringing their faces closer. “I want to know about you.”
“Okay.” Cordelia seemingly relented, her expression softening to match Angel’s tone. “Let go and we’ll talk.”
Angel didn’t say anything. Just a slow shake of his head as his hands slipped from Cordelia’s arms and slid around her back.
“Don’t,” rushed from Cordelia’s lips as she wrestled her arms between them, getting her body trapped even tighter inside Angel’s hold.
Her warm breath blew against his throat, her heartbeat thumped against his chest; it wasn’t the welcoming embrace Angel had anticipated, but holding Cordelia felt too good to give up. And for the first time in a very long time, the soul, so quick to caution against his desires, remained silent.
“Talk to me Cordelia.”
A faint shake of her head reinforced her earlier refusal, and thinking only of breaking free, Cordelia squirmed inside the snug embrace. Their bodies rubbed against one another, her resistance creating a friction too dangerous for either to ignore.
Angel slid a hand into her hair, his fingers curling around the soft strands as he forced her to look at him. “Stop fighting me.”
Cordelia froze against the raspy plea, anger giving way to the uncertainty reflected in the dark eyes staring down at her. The night air turned hot and sticky, clinging to her skin. And everything that made sense twenty-four hours ago began to fade into a jumbled mass of confusion.
“Cordy? You in there?” Gunn’s voice rang out as his fists hit against the door.
“You have to go.” Cordelia didn’t try to feign a demand, but instead, delivered her request for what it was. A concerned appeal that Angel not remain and force Gunn to challenge him.
There was a slight flicker of hurt, but it quickly iced into anger. Cordelia believed he would hurt one of his own. Her suspicion wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility; but rather, a truth Angel didn’t intend to share. Not while Cordelia trembled in his arms, waiting for an answer.
“Trust me Cordelia. Invite me in, and tell Gunn to leave.”
The request took Cordelia by surprise, realization dawning too late to hide the confusion clouding her eyes. “I can’t.”
Angel realized his standing invitation was probably still intact. But unsure, whether the oversight was proof of their indestructible friendship or simply that Cordelia hadn’t expected him to come for her, he chose not to test his theory with one of her watchdogs sniffing a the door.
“I will be back Cordelia…and we will talk.”
Angel was gone in blur of motion, his departure as silent as his arrival. The encounter was over, but her body continued to tremble. And sucking air into her lungs, Cordelia leaned against the wall before her knees could buckle under her.
“Cordy,” Gunn yelled again giving the door another hard whack.
“Coming,” Cordelia yelled back, already thinking up the white lie she would tell her friend.
****
Cordelia shoved the box aside, rubbing her temples before starting on the next one. She was tired, and her head hurt; compliments of another sleepless night and overwhelming apprehension. Angel had assured Wesley he would stay away until they’d finished, but with every creek of the old hotel, her back stiffened and her eyes darted into every corner.
Last night had merely been a temporary setback, Cordelia reminded herself for the umpteenth time. Angel coming back to LA had made things harder, but it hadn’t altered her plan. And once settled into the new office, she would be back on track.
Then the only thing left was convincing The Powers to take back the visions. Without the visions, Angel wouldn’t need her anymore. She would be free of the mission, and free of Angel. Pushing up her sleeves as high as the bruises would allow, Cordelia wiped the sweat from her brow and reached for the last box.
“Need help with that?”
Angel’s arms appeared on each side, his hands sliding over hers as he took the box, placing it onto the stack. Caught off guard, Cordelia stumbled forward, her body tensing when his hands gripped her waist.
“Careful,” Angel practically cooed into her ear. “You might hurt yourself.”
“If I was hurt, which I’m not, it would be your fault, not mine.” Cordelia snapped, pushing down the surge of unexpressed anger and resentment swelling up inside her. “I thought you were going to stay away until we’d left.”
“I was, but I needed to see you.” His head leaning closer with each word, Cordelia shivered when his cool breath blew against her neck. “I wanted to tell you that I’m going to let you leave…” His head dipped until his lips almost brushed against her skin. “…for now. Let you get this little game of playing detective out of your system.”
“Let me? Little game?” Cordelia jerked her head around, her eyes glaring at the egotistical vampire cornering her. “You arrogant bas-”
“Don’t Cordelia.” Angel warned, voice solemn, his barely hidden scowl indicating he wasn’t up to arguing. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
It was too hard to look at him, too hard to be so close after letting go. So Cordelia turned away, giving the stack of meaningless boxes her attention instead.
“I don’t want to fight either.” She admitted, as much to herself as to Angel. “I just want this to be over with.”
She felt Angel’s hands slip away, but her flesh still tingling from his touch, Cordelia thought he might still be there. A part of her wanted him to be there, asking her to stay.
****
“It’s gonna be a long while until you work your way out, but I know you well enough to know you will. And I’ll be with you until you do.”
The hotel quiet and empty, not a sound or movement perceptible even to honed senses, Angel closed his eyes, bringing the memory closer.
He ran his hands down the sides of the canvas, smoothing out the edges crimped from the tight clench of his fingers. He would wait, give the sketch to Cordelia once she understood as he did.
“Nothing about us will ever be over, Cordelia. You of all people should know that.”