Rating: R/NC 17
Category: Smut and Fun
Content: C/A – A/C/W friendship
Summary: Cordelia assumes the visions are an automatic advancement to partner status. Angel decides to teach her a lesson.
Disclaimer: Not. Mine.
Distribution: Just ask
Notes: S1 – an AU that exist only inside my imagination. It’s been so long since I’ve posted anything I almost forgot how to work the buttons. Not sure why, but staying home this past week with the flu seemed to light a small fire under my C/A muse. So continue at your own risk. This rambling could just be the fever talking.
Feedback: always appreciated.
“Well, I… Uh, I…”
Good grief, Cordelia inwardly grouched. The recipient of Doyle’s ‘special’ gift, her social life was grinding to a screeching halt, while Wesley, who evidently had difficulty with basic anatomy, was dating a starlet. It was, in a word, so not fair.
“It’s a yes or no question.”
“Of course I have a penis.”
“Finally,” Cordelia huffed. “You know that thing it does when you’re with Lorna?” Her eyes narrowed knowingly; perhaps, Wesley deduced, a tad accusingly.
“Try doing that with your backbone.”
“Excuse me,” Wesley retorted, his wounded ego demanding restitution.
“Hey! It’s just a suggestion.” Cordelia threw her hands up, under appreciated acting skills delivering an academy award performance of shock and innocence. “No need to get all snippy.”
“Be that as it may,” Wesley rose up, tossing his book onto the shelf. “In any future pursuit of a collaborator, I suggest you refrain from insulting my manhood.”
“Too late, Cordelia. The damage is done.”
With that, Wesley grabbed his seersucker jacket, which in Cordelia’s opinion matched his pants just a little to well, and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
“Some people just can’t handle constructive criticism.”
Angel, having arrived upstairs just in time to catch the P word, spun in place and high tailed it to the far corner of his office. Barely ten o’clock, an ungodly hour for any self-respecting vampire to be up and about, he was definitely not in the mood for some bizarre game of show and tell. Well, at least not until he’d had his morning coffee.
Hearing a faint noise, Cordelia cocked her head just so and listened for the sneaky quiet of her favorite vampire.
“Angel? Is that you?”
Another door slamming followed the scurry of not so quiet feet.
Fine. Be that way. You can run but you can’t hide.
Cordelia slipped her magazine from the desk drawer, content to enjoy a little quality time with her faithful companion, Cosmo.
Angel tossed a black and white photo onto the desk in front of Wesley. “I need you to track down this guy, a smalltime bookie, goes by the name Mickey D.”
“Consider it done.”
Suck up, Cordelia silently hissed.
Assuming correctly that Wesley was already on his way out, Angel turned to his lesser eager beaver, presenting a scrawled note of numbers and letters.
Another silent suck up seethed at Wesley’s retreating back and Cordelia directed her attention to the ink-smudged paper shoved under her nose.
“License plate, I need to know who it belongs to.”
“Just like that? No please. No thank you. No nothing.”
“Kate asked for our help.”
“And…nothing. Run down the car’s owner and I’ll take it from there.”
Angel walked away, intent on escaping to the solitude of his office and leaving Cordelia to deal with her latest ‘female’ crisis privately, until…
“Not so fast buster.”
So close yet so far away. His muscles tensed, flexing a hard ripple across his back. “What?” Angel turned, glowering a scowl he usually reserved for particularly nasty demons.
“We need to discuss the partnership.”
“Last time I checked, you work for me. End of discussion.”
“Correction. I used to work for you, but now that I have the visions we’re partners.”
At least now Angel understood the weird conversation he’d overheard yesterday, and with comprehension came relief. Cordelia orchestrating a one-woman revolution he could handle, Cordelia as Wesley’s sex coach was something he never wanted to think about again.
But on second thought…
A passing curiosity, something he’d typically dismiss as an ill-fated whim; but with a gentle shove, the fleeting notion cultivated into a lecherous scheme, prompting a evil sparkle to light up dark eyes.
The little wench thought them equals, and planned on exploiting her new role as seer to force her point. With just the right amount of finesse on his part, Cordelia’s little coup d’état promised Angel more fun than he’d experienced in a very long time.
“Look sweetheart, just go back to your desk and do what you’re told.” He patted her arm, like one might do when cajoling an obstinate child, a silent but hardy chuckle rumbling inside his chest.
A sinister arch of a brow, lips sculpting a guileful smirk, his fingertips brushed under her chin just close enough for Cordelia to feel the cool flutter against her skin.
“We don’t want that little head worrying over things it can’t handle, do we?”
His work done for the moment, Angel dismissed her with a quick nod before snatching his coat from the hook. A blur of black and leather swooshed around his body, the long coattail whipping violently in the wind.
The soft jingle of the visitor bell lingered, apprising Cordelia of her situation. Angel was gone. She was alone, and so very, very confused.
“What the hell just happened here?”
Cordelia averted her gaze just long enough to sneak a glance of Angel futilely shaking the empty pot over his mug before resuming her pretence of paperwork.
“Wow. Those stealthy investigative skills never cease to amaze me.”
“Funny, Cordelia. Making coffee is your job.”
“Why is that, Angel? Because I’m the little woman-because my wee little brain can’t be trusted with important stuff like-like…meeting with clients?”
“Bastard! You take that back.”
This was just too easy. Cordelia was an instrument begging to be played, and he was just the man…pire to pluck her strings.
“I’m only agreeing with you, sweetheart.”
“And stop that. I’m not your sweetheart and I’m not your secretary. I’m your partner. Got it?”
“Well, partner, did you find the owner of that license plate, or was the task too much for your wee little woman brain?” Angel asked, already rummaging through the items on her desk.
“You’re impossible,” Cordelia spat, shoving his hands away. “It’s on your desk-your desk-this is my desk, so keep your grabby hands off my things.
Cordelia’s chair spun, the unexpected whirl eliciting a surprised yelp. Angel’s legs straddling her knees, his hands gripped either side of the chair effectively caging her in. The playful taunting was gone, and in its place, a menacing scowl bore down on her.
That Angel was large and muscular and intimidating had never been as evident as now. His frame enveloped her, his face so close she could feel cool bursts of exasperation rasping against her cheeks. He leaned closer, which Cordelia didn’t think possible without him actually scooting under her.
Gratification comes in many forms. For Angel, on this particular occasion, it came in the form of a subdued Cordelia Chase. Her bottom lip quivered, her teeth instinctively biting down on the pouty flesh to keep it still, her sharp tongue retrained and silent. A rare treat, considering he’d never seen her lost for words. His held tilting down to the crook of her neck, Angel breathed in the luscious scent of fear radiating off sweat-slick skin.
Cordelia thought she could play him, the meanest vampire in all the land, the scourge of Europe. Cordelia was a foolish, little girl in need a good comeuppance. And being master of the game, Angel was more than happy to provide her one.
“Everything in this office, Cordelia…Everything…is mine.”
Angel was off her and gone in flash. The haunting insinuation chilling her to the bone, and lighting a fire in her belly. For the first time in her life, Cordelia Chase was speechless.
So, Angel thought he could play her. The way Cordelia saw it, the vampire was way out of his league. Angel growls, maybe nibbles now and then. Piss off Cordelia Chase and she bites.
“Angel!” Cordelia bellowed louder as she barged into his apartment.
“Cordelia,” Angel called out as he raced from the bathroom, certain something must be wrong.
“Oops, must’ve caught you in the shower. Don’t be shy, nothing I haven’t seen before.” Cordelia waved it off as though it was nothing. Good grief, I think I’m gonna pass out. “Gotta tell you though, I’ve never seen one small enough to fit behind a wash cloth…well, until now that is.”
Did she just call me…small?
“Is there a reason you’re here?” Angel wanted to cross his arms, erect his trademark stance. But as circumstances would have it, he needed at least one hand to stay where it was. One hand, hell, I need two hands to cover my cock; and Cordelia has stared long enough to know I need both hands.
“Oh…that. Don’t look-Don’t look-Don’t look. I need your advice.”
“Yea, I’ve got a hot date tonight and I want you to help me pick out the perfect dress.”
“You want fashion tips from me. Why?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about what you said. You know, me not being ready to take on the responsibilities of a partnership.”
“And, I think you’re right. I don’t have enough life experience, but being really old, you can teach me what a man wants in a woman.”
“You want me to teach you about men. So I’m small, and old.
“You know, Angel, you’re a little slow with the uptake. You should probably work on that.”
Cordelia wants to play. I’ll play. But first she’s gonna take back that small comment.
Angel dropped the washcloth, taking his time to settle into the chair.
Oh my God, I see Angel’s package. That thing would make a nun drool.
Once settled in, Angel laid his right ankle over his left knee, scooting down to a comfortable position.
“Show me the dresses.”
“Uh, you don’t want to put something on first?”
“Does my nakedness bother you? I mean, being so small and all, I wouldn’t think it noticeable.
Bastard. He’s doing that on purpose. “Whatever. If being an exhibitionist floats your boat, have at it.” Damn, I thought basements were supposed to repel heat.
Gathering her composure, Cordelia shrugged off her coat giving Angel a wide-eyed view of her dress. “I thought I’d just wear the first one to save time. Whacha think?”
Hardly a scrap of fabric, if not for the few carefully placed rhinestones cinching the bodice tight, her breasts would fall out.
“I want to make him hot for my body while respecting my intellect.”
Sweetheart, that dress says fuck me til I scream. Not even a priest is going to notice your intellect.
His groin growing more uncomfortable by the second, Angel shifted, allowing his hands to causally drop from the chair arms into his lap.
“Show me the shoes.”
To the untrained eye, Angel’s stoic expression would be disheartening, but Cordelia had learned a thing or two about her indomitable vampire. It’s what you don’t see that’s important. Well, that, and the swollen protrusion peaking out between his legs.
“Black patent leather with four inch heels. Look how shiny.” Cordelia teased, giving Angel an naughty wink as she waved her sexiest pair of stilettos in his face.
Fuck me shoes for a fuck me dress. God kill me now. “Cordelia, a man likes a little mystery and that dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination, and those shoes, they’re-”
“Really? What are you imagining?”
Angel shifted again, the uncomfortable movement causing a low groan to escape his lips.
“Look who I’m asking. You’re hardly more than a eunuch.” HA! Who’s on top now. Oh jeez, big mistake. Don’t get a picture-Don’t get a picture-Jeez! Picture.
The dig a direct hit, muscles tensed, the ripple effect surging to his aching groin.
“You know what, I should ask Dennis to help me with this. He did date lots of women back in the day.” Cordelia wrestled with her coat while stuffing the shoes back into the bag, the nasty little images running amuck inside her head spurring her to move faster.
Just as she reached the stairs, Cordelia half-turned back into the apartment. “Oh, I almost forgot. I’ll be late tomorrow, well if I get lucky that is.”
One last devilish wink and Cordelia dashed up the stairs, her slinky black dress and sexy heels in toe.
The lingering aroma of Cordelia’s arousal threatening to smother him, Angel snatched his phone from the table, his cock twitching in retaliation, reminding him of it’s imperative need for attention. A few jab of the buttons and he fisted the impatient member, counting off each slow ring with hot, labored breaths.
“Wesley, find out who Cordelia is dating and where they’re going.”
“Just do it.”
“But Angel, I already know where Cordelia will be tonight…joining me at the local pub for a game of darts.”
A grizzly growl rumbled from his chest as Angel fervidly fisted his pulsing shaft.
“There must be static on the line. Angel, would you like to join-”
Continued in Day 5, tentatively titled ‘White Flag’