Chapter 9
The room was deathly quiet except for the beep of the heart monitor as twilight peeked through the blinds. Orange tinted the sickening sweet pastel green of the walls giving the room a muddy gray pallor. The air was heavy and stale even to a vampire.
The settling night shadows striped the white blanket covering her delicate left leg and the cast encasing her right. Her toes, the only skin below the knee not plastered in paste and gauze, were still covered by the hot red polish that had matched the color of her dress so perfectly last night.
Less than 24 hours ago, he had held that firm calf in his hand and draped it around his waist before sinking into her silky depths. It felt like years since that heaven. This day had lasted at least seven forevers and it wasn’t over yet.
It took forever to get to the hospital. No matter that it only took fifteen minutes in real time, in reaching Cordelia time it was forever. But, another forever greeted him when he got there and was forbidden by Nurse Frankenstein and his former friends to get near her. Then there was the agonizing forever of listening to the doctor describe her injuries. Internal bleeding, multiple contusions, bruised ribs, broken fibula, cracked skull with possible brain damage. He blanked out after that.
Next came the forever torment of the surgery to repair her ruptured spleen. And, God, the forever only increased when she got back from surgery, and still they wouldn’t let him see her.
Now, by her bedside, cupping her hand between his and caressing her fingertips with his lips, he thought he would feel relief. But, time only teased. This was a new kind of forever. The time between each breath. The painful wait until the next gulp of air confirmed she was still alive and wouldn’t leave. He didn’t think his body could stand much more torture.
But he knew he must because the worst forever was still to come. The forever until she woke and he knew if she was still Cordy. He told himself it didn’t matter. As long as she woke and he could see those eyes he loved, he would thank any God that would listen. But, part of him knew he was only deceiving himself. He wanted her back complete and whole. She didn’t deserve to be anything less.
A soft shuffling mingled with her almost imperceptible breathing. Angel’s body stiffened at the intruder behind him and a low warning rumble resounded in his chest.
**Mine.**
“Angel,” Wesley said quietly. He immediately picked up on the vampire’s posture and vocal threat, but knew it was more instinct than directed toward him. He reverently moved to Angel’s side and allowed himself a moment to be satisfied that she was all right before speaking.
Her face and arms were marred with swollen, red scratches and gouges from her bout with the asphalt. A wide, white bandage surrounded her head presumably to keep her brains from falling out of her cracked skull. He knew that underneath her gown her ribs were wrapped and her abdomen stitched from the surgical invasion.
And lastly, the stark white cast covered her right leg from below her knee over her foot. She’s going to be upset it’s white. They might have at least given her a pink one. He smiled at the thought of Cordy bitching about the ugly cast and totally ignoring the fact that she almost died. She almost died. Oh, my God.
Wesley removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, stopping the tears from wetting his cheeks. He sniffled, cleared his throat and then slid the spectacles back in place before speaking.
“I don’t suppose she’s come to yet?”
Angel merely nodded the negative.
“I know it won’t do any good to ask you to let one of us spell you, but if you want a break, we’re just outside.” He put a hand on Angel’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. As he turned to leave, his eye caught a wound he hadn’t noticed before. On her neck were two punctures. He gasped and quickly moved to the head of the bed to look more closely.
“Angel, she’s been bitten! How could this have happened? When?” His eyes were saucers of concern and fear.
Angel raised his glance from her face to Wesley’s.
**Get this pansy away from my mark.**
Wesley saw his eyes flash gold. His expression changed from anger to anguish as the orbs moved back to their softer warm brown pools. “I know,” was all he said with a mixture of regret and a plea for forgiveness.
A sigh pushed out of Wesley’s lungs as the weight of the truth hit him. “Well, I see. At least she’s not… I’m glad it… Yes, well…we’ll talk about it later.” He bowed his head and exited swiftly, afraid of what he might say or do. It wasn’t the time or place to confront Angel about this, but he would have to do so sooner or later.
***
“Mmmm.” The quiet moan woke him from his dozing. Instantly he was at her side, stroking her hair and staring into her face.
“Cordy. Wake up. Can you wake up for me, please?”
Her eyes fluttered and she smacked her dry lips.
“That’s it. Come on. Come back to me.”
Another soft moan and then she cleared her throat before opening her eyes. She blinked several times until her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and focused on his face so close to hers.
“Angel?” she rasped.
“Yes, Cordy. It’s me. I’m here. Are you…can you…ah, hell…how do you feel?” He was so ecstatic to gaze into her soul again, he didn’t know what to say first.
“Um…sleepy and kinda like a truck ran over my head. Did I have a vision and why are you in my bedroom?”
**Hell, yeah! That’s my bitch.**
Angel knew he probably had a goofy smile on his face, but he couldn’t help it. She was awake, alive and not a vegetable.
Maybe there was a God and maybe he listened to worthless demons.
“This isn’t your bedroom, Cor. You’re in a hospital. Do you remember what happened?” He couldn’t stop his fingers from running through her locks or his other hand from stroking her cheek softly. He was so entranced by her just being alive and okay, that he didn’t notice the odd look she gave him every time his skin touched hers.
“Angel, what are you doing? Remember the discussion we had about personal bubbles? You’re kind of freaking me out.” She started to jerk away from him and felt pain shoot through every part of her body. “Owww!” She hissed and groaned trying to find a position that didn’t hurt.
Angel yanked back as if she was on fire. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’ll get the doctor.”
He left quickly, Cordy still moaning in pain every time she moved. As he ran for the nurse’s station, it finally hit him what she’d said.
Personal bubble? We burst that a long time ago. Didn’t we?
He stopped and tried to piece the puzzle together, but he just wasn’t a puzzle guy. “Damn it. What’s going on now? God! Are you even listening?”
***
Yes, he was. Only Angel, a novice to prayer, had failed to specify to which God he was praying. Apparently he’d put in an order to the Feydeau God. The Yahweh of the Yucks. The Father of Farce.
Because not only had Cordelia lost all memory of everything that had happened during the past six weeks, but his suite was now home to a woman whom, only three weeks ago, his demon had claimed as a mate and now recoiled at his touch.
Could life get any fuckin’ funnier? Maybe if Cordy could hobble around well enough to be chased in and out of the hotel bedrooms with a cheating husband, a pool boy and a skanky mistress hilariously almost bumping into each other, they could sell tickets. At least then there’d be an upside to all this.
But now there was only the downside. He spent all day every day avoiding the woman he loved more than his own life because seeing her, talking to her, and tasting her scent not only drove him mad but made letting her go too hard. The sight of his demon’s mark on her neck made him salivate to erase it with his own. Add to that the taunting of his demon that she’d always be his and only his, and he wanted to walk into the midday sun just to shut him up.
But, the night was different. No manner of common sense could keep him from watching over her while she slept. She was too fragile and vulnerable. Anything could go wrong in the dark, and the best friend in him took over her care. His every sense was tuned to their surroundings and her breathing. He discovered that, for those quiet hours, he was able to turn his entire focus on protecting her from danger and not his own beast’s desires.
With the rising sun, however, came the light that shooed all demons into the shadows and all truths out of them. Too much chance of a furtive glance or slip of the tongue or hand grazing hand and then all would be lost. No. It was best for both of them that he stayed away while she was awake for now at least. Until he could train himself not to love her. He hoped he lived that long.
Turning from the encroaching rays that would soon filter through the French doors, Angel dared a glance at her sleeping face. The pale dawn suited the curves of her still scarred, but beautiful apple cheeks and round lips, only adding to their softness. He brought his fingers to his lips and closed his eyes pretending for just a moment that it was her tender skin brushing against his.
As he swayed with the intensity of the remembered velvet touch, he heard a rapid pounding and thought for a moment it was his own dead heart. Then he picked up a scent and the accompanying impassioned moans he recognized instantly as uniquely Cordy. He stood transfixed watching her hips gently ebb and flow beneath the sheet, writhing against an unknown dream lover, her back slightly arched as her hand brushed against her hardening nipple.
“I am getting a bit warm with all these clothes on. I need you to undress me.”
Too strong. His room, her voice, her scent, her body. His damn photographic memory recalling her words and – just everything about her – on their first night together. No touching. Merely watching and listening. Just like now. Only now he was a voyeur not a welcomed lover, but that didn’t stop the lust or the hardening evidence of it.
**Don’t fuckin’ watch! You know she’s dreaming about us. Take her!**
No, not us. Probably that Jude asshole or Xander. She doesn’t remember us.
Before the demon could try to convince him otherwise, Angel quickly and quietly slipped out before she awoke and caught him staring and quite possibly touching himself.
Moments later, her breathing labored and her body covered with a feminine sheen, the man of her dreams licked her neck from crook to ear. He swirled his tongue inside the highly erogenous shell as his rock solid cock pummeled her core. Long, agile fingers fondled and tweaked her breasts while others slid on their sweat to her clit and maneuvered those nerves as easily as a watchmaker winds a precious antique.
Nothing revealed his identity. His face never came into focus, his chest only planes of light and shadow. There was no distinct scent no telltale timbre to his groans. He made love to her smoothly, passionately and silently. There was no reason, then, when her body jerked and stiffened from his expert touch and the magic of the orgasm flowed through her that she whispered with a satisfied grin, “Mmmm, Angel.”
***
She didn’t know what was up with the vampire. The first few days of her hospital stay, he was by her side practically every minute. Then it seemed when she was finally feeling cognizant and less pained with each movement, he almost disappeared. Sure he had excuses, but she recognized them for the half-truths they were.
And, for the past two weeks, since she’d been released and he had forced her to commandeer his suite, she’d seen even less of him. He was in the hotel because she knew he cooked for her, but he didn’t want or need to see her apparently. She hadn’t gone this long without his company since the firing episode, and it surprised her how much she missed him now and how much his absence affected her mood. Her heart hurt and she felt…lonely.
What worried her the most was the reason. Was it something she did during her “forgotten” time that he’s mad about? Did he do something that he’s ashamed of and can’t face her? Is there a blonde involved in any way? That last thought always crept in but she couldn’t figure out exactly why.
The rest of them were no help in solving the dilemma. None of them would squeal on him no matter how hard she worked her mojo. She didn’t hold much hope that Wes would crack since he had all that double oh nerd Watcher training. Gunn was potentially a weak link since there was no deep love on his part for demons, but she discovered the bond between males no matter what the species is stronger than she thought. And, Lorne…well, he couldn’t give a straight answer to a yes or no question, so why even bother.
That left Fred. Sweet, geeky, ramblin’, yammerin’, couldn’t keep a secret if you sewed it to her butt, Fred. But, damn it, if that girl wasn’t strong. Much more strong-willed than anybody gave her credit for and right up there in Cordy’s ranks in manipulation. She was tough all right, but Cordy was wearing her down, and she felt sure if anyone would spill the beans on Angel, Fred would be the beanbag that burst.
But, before any fan got shitty, she needed to ask Angel a serious question that was best asked prior to any fits of anger or disappointment that may erupt once the Fred dam breaks. So, when Wesley took away her breakfast tray, she asked to see Angel. Although she’d hoped to get Angel there without forewarning, when Wesley asked why she wanted to see him, she didn’t hesitate to answer.
“The mark.”
***
Angel had been very lucky that Cordy didn’t really pressure him to spend more time with her. He only came when she asked for him. His avoidance obviously hurt her and that made it even more difficult to see her. Every time he was there, she asked what was bothering him and did she do anything wrong. Each time he left she looked more and more crestfallen when his pat answer of “everything’s fine” ended their conversation and his visit.
But today his luck ended. After the near breaking of his will during her dream last night, his vampire senses were warning him that the free ride was over, and they were never wrong.
Today she wanted to know about the mark on her neck, and Angel was quietly panicking. Wesley had told her that she’d been bitten in a fight only days before the accident. But, Cordy was concerned Wesley hadn’t told her the whole truth and wanted his vampire opinion.
Sitting in the chair by the foot of the bed, he hoped the distance between them would hide the twitching thing his eye was doing or the way his right leg shook uncontrollably. And, please, don’t let me drool.
“So…kinda creepy about the bite thingy, huh?” Cordy timidly asked.
“Creepy? Whaddya mean? Creepy how?” Angel tried not to sound offended.
“Well, it’s kinda creepy that it’s still so fresh looking. I mean it doesn’t seem to be fading. Is that right?” She looked in the hand mirror and tugged at the skin around the wound as she spoke.
**Oh, it’s right baby, and it will never fade.**
Each time she pulled at the mark, their combined scents were released even more strongly, and he wanted to run away and ravage her at the same time. “Well, ya know, people heal at different rates. And…AND, with all the drugs you’re on right now, maybe they’re slowing yours down.”
“Or, maybe, this isn’t just a simple vamp nibble. Aren’t there different kinds of bites?” She put down the mirror and looked him straight in the eye when she asked.
The soft brown and gold-flecked eyes were on the verge of sucking the whole, disgusting truth from him. Swiftly he averted his own to scan the floors and walls as he answered, hoping it would make whatever lies he was about to tell easier. “Uh…well, yes, there are…”
“What kinds?”
“Huh?”
“What kinds of different bites are there?” Cordy was getting exasperated by his obvious stall tactics.
**There’s only one kind that counts, baby. Mine!**
“Shut up!”
“What did you say?” She couldn’t have heard him correctly. He did not just tell her to shut up.
Shock and fear widened his eyes.
Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud?
**Sure did, you old smoothie. By the way, don’t ever tell my woman to shut up. That’s my job.**
Angel leapt from the chair and paced a rut from the bed to the door.
“Angel, what did you say and please stop that and sit down.” Cordy pointed toward the chair and gave him that don’t-mess-with-me look.
He cowered and trembled under her gaze. The shaking part was the good kind. The kind that made you go weak kneed and all clenchy in the stomach. He slowly edged back to his seat.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what…it just slipped…” He sat on the edge of the cushion, rubbed his hand over his face and shook his head to regain some composure. “I’m sorry. I got distracted for a minute. What were we talking about?”
“Kinds of bites,” she bit out.
**Just had to ask, didn’t you? Moron.**
“Bites…yeah…vampire bites, right? Of course. I mean you don’t need to ask me about mosquito bites or spider bites or bed bug bites. Do bed bugs really bite or is that just an expression?”
“Angel!”
“Yeah, okay, sure. Vampire bites. Well, let’s see, there’s the bite you make when you just want a little taste now but, you know, you want to save the rest for later, and there’s the bite that you make when you want to drain someone quickly which is very different. And…umm…there’s a bite to simply render the victim unconscious. You know, for the vamp that doesn’t have everything…a fully blood-filled, comatose gift for all occasions. That one’s a bit tricky. You have to know just where to place the fangs, and it’s hard because you really can’t see exactly where those puppies are pointing. That is definitely not something a beginner should attempt…”
Cordy’s eyes glazed over. There’s one thing that I didn’t forget. He’s still a dork. And a dumbass. And, how cute is that head when it tilts to the side and his eyes sparkle with excitement as his firm mouth talks and talks and talks about the most boring crap ever. Holy shit! That’s new. I really *did* do some damage to my brain.
“Oh, God. I almost forgot. There’s the pre-bite bite, or ‘teaser’ for short. That’s just a nibble really, not a true puncture, to bring the blood…”
“Gee, Angel, that’s really special and all, and I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re sharing so many details about your ghoulish ways that I never, ever wanted to know. But do you think you can just tell me what kind of bite I’ve got before they put you in the old vampire’s home, and I’ve been dead for like – I don’t know – a thousand years?
**The pre-bite, bite? What kind of a retarded vampire are you?**
Hey! I’m winging it here trying to cover up the mess you made. So back off!
“Your bite? Oh, it’s just a regular bite. Nothing special. The quick drain kind. Trust me, it’ll fade eventually.”
“You’re sure? Nothing funky like a baby vampire is going to grow out of my neck or I’m engaged to this weirdo then?”
“Hah! That’s funny.” He laughed in that way that wasn’t a laugh. The kind that said you’re too close to the truth, and the truth isn’t funny. He rose and started backing away from the bed. “Baby vampire. Hah! You…you…what a great imagination you’ve got!”
Damn, he hated lying to her. With the pressure, and the nervous laughter and the lying, he suddenly wanted very much to be able to throw up.
“Listen, I’ve got to go. Is there anything you need?”
His hand was on the doorknob when her voice stopped him.
“Angel?”
He turned, sighing, expecting her to call him a big fat liar or at the very least ask for a magazine or to run to the shoe store and see if they could special order some Jimmy Choos to fit her cast again. That’s why when she said…
“I love you,” with her eyes sparkling as brightly as her smile…
He lost it. All resolve and common sense disappeared. Every bone in his body was crushed and every muscle was liquid rubber. He felt himself slide to the floor into a puddle.
Well, that’s a new twist on the dork look. Wonder why he’s smiling like that? Odd little vampire. “Angel?”
“Huh?” Am I still here?
“Could you ask Fred to come up if she’s not busy?”
“Uh-huh.” Angel didn’t remember opening the door or actually moving. He must’ve floated out or his puddled self slid under the door. Somehow though he made it downstairs, which he realized as soon as Gunn slapped him on the back.
“Hey, Angel! How’s Cordy doing today? Does she need anything?”
**Only my tongue down her throat.**
“No! No, Gunn, she’s fine for now. Thanks.”
“Angel, can you come in here for a moment please,” Wesley called from his office.
On his way to Wesley’s door, Angel remembered Cordy’s request. “Oh, Fred, Cordy would like to see you when you’re not busy.”
“Oh, sure. I forgot! It’s time for her manicure! I just love doing all this girly stuff. It’s been like vacationing at a spa for two weeks!” Fred bounced up the stairs ever eager to please.
“Or, like working at one. Who would’ve guessed my resume would read demon hunter and pool boy. But, gotta say, rubbing suntan lotion on her ain’t the worst thing I’ve ever done,” Gunn quipped.
**Either you break his fingers or I cut them off.**
Angel’s grin at the sweetness that was Fred twisted into a menacing glare at Gunn. Closing his eyes and curling his fingers into a tight fist, he turned on his heels and finished the trip to Wesley’s office. But, before he entered, he took a moment to calm himself.
He wasn’t sure what Wesley wanted, but he had a feeling it was “the talk” they’d been avoiding. Even if that wasn’t the topic Wesley had planned, Angel knew it was time to discuss it. Hell, the way he was feeling right now toward Gunn was enough to convince him he had to do something.
He needed to talk to someone about all of it – everything that had happened with Cordy – because brooding no longer worked for him. Thinking for weeks on end about one subject used to pacify him and disperse all his anxieties throughout his body until the weight was hardly noticeable.
Somehow, though, he’d lost the capacity to smooth out the edges. Years of Cordy forcing him to talk had made him lose his brooding touch. Now, the only thing heavy thinking did was to gather up all his frustration and apprehension into a ball inside his stomach. A rock lodged so tightly that the only laxative that worked was talking it out.
His mind made up, he walked into the office and shut the door.
***
In a way Cordy was grateful for the accident. Despite the pain and the feeling of helplessness, she’d finally been forced to spend a lot of time with Fred, and she found she didn’t hate it. Actually, getting to know the real Fred had been fun. Without the pressure of someone’s life in the balance, her incessant chatting was endearing. Not only that, but the more comfortable she became with Cordy, the more coherent and ‘normal’ her conversations became.
It didn’t matter that she’d lost six weeks of getting to know Fred because she had a feeling the last two weeks had been far more informative. So, she could make it official. She liked Fred. So much so that she felt like she finally had a sister, and she couldn’t believe how wonderful it was to have another girl to talk to after so many years of strictly male stoicism.
So, she really should feel guilty about using Fred this way. But, hey…sisters! And sisters don’t keep secrets from each other. It’s really Fred who should feel guilty. I love how I think.
After the somewhat disappointing conversation with Angel about the bite (not falling for his ‘teaser’ bite, this bite, that bite crap for one second), she was determined to get something out of Fred. She simply had to work the conversation just right.
“Fred! Thanks for coming up. Do you have time for that manicure?” Cordy pulled out all the charm.
“Oh, sure! I just love doing this. I know this’ll sound bad, but I’m kinda glad you had that accident. Not that I’m glad you got hurt and almost died. Geez, no! But, I really like spending time with you doing the manicures and the hair and the facials. It’s so girly and being the science geek my whole life I really never got to do that kinda stuff. Most of my friends were boy science geeks, and it’s funny but they really didn’t think much about their cuticles.” Fred retrieved the polish remover, cotton balls, orange stick, cuticle scissors, and several colors of polish from the bathroom and had filled a bowl with warm, soapy water during her confession.
“I know what you mean. Before you came along, I could just feel my skin shriveling from all the testosterone in the air. You know I’ve never had a sister and my old girlfriends were…well, they weren’t really friends. I hope you don’t mind, but since we’ve spent all this time together and we’ve really gotten to know one another…well…I just want to say I think you’re really great and I kinda love ya, you know? Like a sister.” Cordy looked at her timidly, biting her bottom lip, hoping that sharing her feelings wouldn’t freak Fred out. The feelings were real. Could she help it if professing them just happened to work in her favor for information squeezing?
Fred’s eyes got very moist and big. Her delicate, bird-like fingers covered her opened mouth to stifle her gasp. Then a miracle happened. Fred was speechless. Only for a moment, however.
“I…I mean…do you…really? Wow! I’ve never had a sister either and no real girlfriends. Except Polly Hansen when I was six, but she moved to New Orleans and took my favorite Hi-Ho-Silver horse with her which kinda pissed me off, so that put the kibosh on even a pen-pal friendship we mighta had. Wow. I can’t believe it. Oh, listen to me go on and on about stupid Polly when you just… I feel the same way, Cordy. Sisters! Wow! This is so great!”
Fred’s head bobbed back and forth reminiscent of a valley girl and her smile was the widest Cordy had ever seen. A pang of regret stabbed her heart for what she was about to do, but secrets were bad and Fred would understand. She was almost sure she would.
“Yeah, it is pretty great.” Cordy took the polish remover and some cotton and began taking off the pale pink polish from Fred’s nails that she’d put there a few days ago. “And you know the best part about being sisters? A sister can tell her sister anything and everything. Especially everything about men. You’ve had six weeks that I don’t remember to get to know our boys. So, fess up, sis. Which one of our studly men do you have your heart set on?”
The girl actually blushed. Cordy didn’t think women still did that.
“Well, you probably don’t remember but for a time I had a crush on Angel. But you set me straight on that.”
“I did? What did I say?” Cordy put the newly clean nails of one of her hands in the water to soak while she went to work removing the polish on the other.
“Oh, you know, about the curse and how he’s not like other men. It’s kinda funny now, though, since y’all proved the curse isn’t a problem any more.”
“What?!?” Cordy screamed so loudly that Fred jerked both hands away sending the bowl and contents spilling over the bedspread and onto the floor. She stood up backing away with her hands clasping her cheeks trying to shut herself up but failing miserably.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!”
“Fred, sweetie, come back here and tell me what the hell you mean we proved the curse isn’t a problem.” Cordy desperately tried to control her breathing and the firestorm that was rising in her gut. She wanted to leap from that bed and strangle the girl until something that made sense came out. But Fred was a skittish colt and needed soothing words and a gentle hand to bring her back from gibberish land.
“Nothing. I didn’t mean anything. I was just, ya know, talking and when I talk lots of times words get all tangled up and come out all wrong. I didn’t mean y’all as in you and him. Oh, God, no. Not that. Never that. I meant it in the sorta universal y’all. It’s a southern thing. Kinda like the royal ‘we’. The universe proved the curse isn’t a problem. That’s what I meant. Did you hear that? I think Wes needs me downstairs.”
She scrambled for the door, but the scream of agony behind her chilled her spine and froze her feet. Craning her neck, she turned to see Cordy flailing and moaning in a sea of cream and gold and red fabric, her face contorted in pain and fear.
Fred’s immediate panic and guilt from opening her big mouth was soon pushed aside by concern and love for her newest best friend and sister. Fumbling for a second with her sweaty palm on the slippery knob, she flung the door open and yelled, “Vision,” before running to Cordy’s side to try anything to keep her from any more hurt.