Okay, she was snippy at times. Cordelia *knew* this. But having two drunken guys hanging on her was beyond a joke. She’d ended up almost CARRYING Riley to the Hyperion and when she’d gotten there, she’d found drunken Angel.
When she’d said to Riley, ‘Maybe you should have another drink’, she meant ONE, to calm his nerves, maybe make him feel a little better. So he’d had one. Then two. Then three. Then four and… Then Cordelia had lost count.
He’d cried. He’d honest to goodness cried and Cordelia had felt awful. He said something about vampires and how he was sorry and asked Cordelia if she thought that he was a bad person. Cordelia hadn’t known him long enough to make a judgement, so lied and told him no.
After a long time in the bar, Cordelia had realised that Riley was in no state to go anywhere and decided to take him home, see if he and Angel could maybe talk… And what she’d found… Oh God, this was embarassing in ways she’d never known…
The Night Before
“Riley, if you’d just… Umph…” The guy wasn’t light! Her attraction to muscular men? Forget it! Give her a wiry guy who could take his drink any day and then SHE wouldn’t have to carry him home.
There wasn’t a cab to be got in the entire area of Los Angeles. So Cordelia had ended up walking with Riley (or rather CARRYING Riley) back to the hotel.
“Angel? Help would be nice!” She called out, almost stumbling down the steps with Riley, “Okay then, maybe not…”
Frowning, she got Riley nicely laid out on the couch and went into the office, glass crunching underneath her feet. When she looked down, the framed photo of Cordelia, Angel and Wesley lay on the floor, smashed into little pieces.
Her first thought was that something had happened and Cordelia, admittedly, panicked. But seeing as how there was nothing else broken or otherwise disturbed, Cordelia realised that what she was looking for was a very huffy Angel.
Checking to make sure Riley was alright, she ran up the stairs, hearing Angel talk to someone.
“But I love you… And you left me and… Why are there three of you? I mean, I can shee threee of you… And I’m all wobbly…” Cordelia frowned. Oh, great, he was hallucinating AND dreaming of Buffy.
Unexpected jealousy burned within her and the brunette stepped into his bedroom, greeted with the sight of him lying on his bed, covers pulled to his midriff, exposing his muscular chest.
Supressing the drool, Cordeila frowned, “Angel, Riley’s here I…”
“Cordelia!” The grin on his face was almost splitting his head open, “Aww, itsh ma girl!”
“Stop dreaming of Buffy, now isn’t the time!” She snapped.
“Not!” He said, pouting (which Cordelia had to admit was possibly the cutest thing she’d ever seen), “Dreaming of my Cordeeeeeeeeee…”
“Since when am I yours?” She asked, creeping closer to the bed to see what his particular damage was. Whiskey. Cordelia frowned, about to say something when a pair of arms grabbed her, pulling her down on the bed next to him.
“Always been mine…” He growled, burying his nose in her neck.
“Ange… Uh… You’re all stinky!” She said, frowning. “Could you *be* any more drunk?”
Angel reached an arm out, lethargically, scrabbling for the whiskey bottle, “Yup… Want some Cordeee?”
Cordelia couldn’t help but grin at the way he was saying her name. “No, Cordeeee doesn’t want none.”
“Angel wants Cordeeee…”
“Angel’s not *getting* Co… Whuh?”
“Angel wants Cordeeeeeeee…” He repeated, his voice sending chills up her spine. “Cordeee wants Angel… Mmmm, Angel sexy…”
Cordelia pulled back, “Could you contemplate getting over yourself? I *don’t* want you…” She lied.
“Cordeeee lying… Angel smell Cordeee from here…”
“No, that would be YOU you can smell, Angel.” Said Cordelia, wrenching herself away from him and getting up, “You have a visitor. I need you downstairs.”
Angel nodded, saluting her with a grin, “Yes, Ma’am… You can *have* Angel anywhere.” He said, his voice dripping with the pre-emption of a double-entendre. Cordelia rolled her eyes, shaking her head,
“Angel, now!” He went to get out of the bed, which was approximately around the time that things started to go very wrong. Heavy sheets, plus drunken naked Angel, pretty much didn’t mix.
Angel stumbled, falling over himself and landing on the floor, chuckling heartily, the sheets falling away…
Cordelia stood there, mouth almost hitting the floor at the sight of naked Angel.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Cordelia realised her mouth was very VERY dry, “Ungh… Might wanna… Cover yourself up…” She said quietly.
Even drunk Angel was incredibly stealthy. A second later, a pair of lips were pressed down on hers, surprisingly tender for the drunken state he was in.
Cordelia however, was having none of it. She pushed him away, quite forcefully and frowned, “GET DRESSED. I told you I needed you downstairs.” She almost growled.
What was she doing? Trying to form a ‘I Love Buffy Cast Off’s’ club? Nuh-uh… First Riley, in his drunken and grieving state, had thought she was Buffy, trying to cop a feel. And then so had Angel!!! What the hell was this?
She stomped down the stairs, writing Angel a very obscene note and then storming back to her house.
When Angel came down the stairs, he promptly passed out (although he *was* dressed – a feat in itself) landing next to Riley in a heap on the floor…
The Morning After
He remembered whiskey. He remembered passing out. Twice or maybe even three times. But he didn’t remember Riley. And he certainly didn’t remember Cordelia… And what he thought she was saying in the note.
*So* don’t appreciate being shown my best friends bits. Getting fondled isn’t top on my list of things to do for this week. Very traumatised. Taking tomorrow off. Sort it out with Riley, BE NICE..
Okay, so the note was a little short. And this was the amended version of the amended version. But Cordelia couldn’t think of anything else to write. How about ‘Hey Angel, you kissing me like that made me kinda… Warm? Fuzzy?
And I think maybe there was kissage of me back to you but… Hey, let’s repress.’ She needed to DEAL with these feelings first so she could blame it on being fondled…
Cordelia sighed. Which was when she heard the banging on the door. “All right, all right already!”
Angel and Riley stood there, both wearing sheepish (and painful) looks on their faces. Riley, literally looked green from puking, as did Angel.
“Cordelia…” Started Angel.
“We never meant to…”
“Well, I mean… We didn’t force you… Right?”
Cordelia looked at them, “What?”
Cordelia spluttered, “WHAT? There was no threesome of any kind!!! There was no twosome – not even close to a onesome! Where the HELL did you get that idea???”
“Your note!” Said Angel.
“You groped me! And so did you… But threesomes weren’t had… Besides, EWWW!” She yelled. “And plus, even if…”
She stopped, her head seizing up, Cordelia gasped, plummeting to the floor before Angel could get to her.
I can’t breathe… She wheezed, What’s happening to me?
Riley looked at Angel, “What’s wrong with her?”
Soil… Pouring in… Damn… Ow, my hands…
Bursting free of her confines, Cordelia was pulled from the vision with one last flash of something. Not just anything. A gravestone.
**Buffy Anne Summers
She saved the world