Part 8: Training Days
By the time they got to the Hyperion it was after one and Cordelia’s stomach was playing a symphony of some sorts. When they walked in the door, the scene was as expected.
Gunn stood crouching next to the playpen, trying to get Connor to grip a mini-basketball, with a little cheerleading from Dawn. Wes and Fred were hunched over humungous books in Wesley’s office. Xander and Willow were sitting on the round couch in the middle of the lobby, looking uncomfortable. And Angel and Buffy were nowhere to be seen.
Everyone seemed to notice the new arrivals at the same time and there was a hushed silence.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Cordelia said as she brushed off the confusion and walked over to the playpen, waving at Spike to follow her. “Spike, you know Willow and Xander…and Dawn,” Cordy said as Dawn ran to Spike and gave him a warm hug, much to the consternation of everyone else in the room.
“Sorry I lied to you. Buffy made me,” Dawn whispered in Spike’s ear.
“No worries niblet I know you were just following the Slayer’s orders,” Spike told her with a smile.
“Ohhhh-kay. So you two are best friends now? Allright, I can accept that. No weirder than anything else around here,” Cordy announced. “Anyway, Spike, I know you remember Wesley, and that just leaves Gunn and Fred.” Cordelia turned to the two people she had just named.
“Yes, before you ask, he is a vampire Fred, and no, Gunn, before you ask, you can’t stake him.”
Fred came forward, with not a whit of shyness or hesitation. “Hey I’m Fred. I heard a little about you, and I came across your name in a couple of files.”
Spike turned to Cordelia. “You have files on me?”
“What can I say, you’re a legend,” Cordy responded wryly. She really wanted to finish this whole get to know you deal and find out where Angel was.
Because I’m hungry. I can get Angel to cook for me. That’s why I want to know where he is. Not because I’m all jealous that he seems to have disappeared with Buffy, the love of his un-dead life.
Fred was still talking to Spike about the snitches of info she had on him. “Yeah, so, the way I figure it, that scar on Cordy’s stomach, that’s really your fault. Cause weren’t Xander and Willow doing a spell for you when Cordelia found them all—you know—and then she fell and hurt herself.”
Fred was oblivious to the fact that Xander and Willow were turning incredible shades of red.
“Well that’s one way to look at it. Sorry bout that Cor,” Spike offered gamely.
Unlike Fred, Cordy wasn’t oblivious to the embarrassment Xander and Willow were suffering—she was relishing it. She waved off Spike’s apology. “Oh please, Spike, you might have done a little Scoob-napping but you didn’t force them to start rolling all over each other. You didn’t tell them it was mating season on the Hellmouth.”
Cordy shot a glare over at the two in question, conveying a bitterness she really didn’t even feel anymore. This was just too good to pass up.
Xander didn’t say anything, but Willow stood up and was half way through a stuttering apology before Cordelia’s honorability got the better of her. “Willow, stop. Please. I was kidding. I’m way over that. No biggie. Got me over that whole crushing on Xander sickness. Hey, I should probably be thanking you.”
Willow didn’t say anything. Cordelia joking around? Cordelia missing an opportunity to make someone suffer? Cordelia reaching into the playpen and scooping up the baby and looking incredibly natural doing it? Was this like a sign of yet another apocalypse?
Cordelia brushed kisses over the baby’s downy head and moved closer to Spike. “And finally, this is the little guy you didn’t get introduced to last night.” She awkwardly positioned the baby in Spike’s arms as the rest of the room nervously looked on. After a couple of seconds of watching an almost fearful Spike rock the baby like the novice he was, Gunn asked if Cordy didn’t think Angel would object to this.
“Please,” Cordy answered, “Angel lets a Pylean demon baby-sit. He buys diapers next door to the butcher shop he buys PIGS BLOOD from. He’s in no position to be so picky.” Though Cordy did stage whisper to Dawn “If you see him smoking anywhere near that child, stake him.” To which Dawn nodded with a giggle.
Finally, Cordelia couldn’t hold back from asking. She had been here nearly ten minutes. Still no Angel. Wasn’t he the tinsiest bit concerned about her? She had gone off into the night with Spike, who had spent years raping and pillaging, or whatever it was the Fabulous Four had done together.
“Since Gunn’s here, I guess I better forget the idea of leftover pizza, huh. Well, where’s Angel? I could go for an omelet a la vampire.”
All Cordelia got was a roomful of people who refused to meet her eye. The gang from Sunnydale wasn’t looking because they were trying to imagine the idea of Angel as Emeril Lagasse. The Fang Gang, however, they seemed a little worried. “You guys? Hello? I asked where Angel is? Since it’s a little bright outside, I’m assuming he is in residence.”
“Well, yeah,” Fred finally answered. She wasn’t entirely sure why she thought telling Cordelia might be a bad idea, but judging from their hesitation, Wes and Gunn seemed to agree with her. “He’s here. He’s in the basement. I think he’s training…” Cordelia was already heading down the stairs. She didn’t catch the last part of what Fred mumbled.
“With Buffy,” Fred trailed off. More awkward silence. It was becoming the theme of the day.
“So anyone else having a mental picture of Angel in an apron adding blood to stuff and yelling Bam!” Xander wondered. “What, it’s a valid question?”
***
Angel stood near the stairs to the basement, watching Buffy run through a series of exercises with a sword. She was graceful, her motions exhibiting a fluid strength that seemed innate. He knew she preferred crossbows to swordplay, but he had no problem imagining her as a more than worthy opponent. They had been down here for more than an hour now.
They worked as well together as they always had—their movements blended so well they seemed choreographed. She’d even given him a few tips on a new spin-kick move. And yet, for some reason, Angel was disappointed.
He had suggested her training with him as a way of getting her to open up. Regardless of what she said, he was positive Buffy had a real motive for coming to LA, other than simply missing him. She had missed him plenty before but that had never had her driving down the Pacific coast to see him. He figured a little time alone and she might allow herself to tell him what was wrong.
So far it wasn’t working. Angel didn’t know why. When he and Cordy were training, it was an extension of everything else they did. They both remained focused, but they talked. Even when it was just double entendres about weapons or Angel making fun of how Cordelia sweated and he didn’t; somehow so much more was communicated, in those quiet moments between lessons.
Angel always emerged from the lessons feeling closer than ever to Cordelia. It wasn’t like that with Buffy.
There was no element of fun here. The air was charged differently. There had been a tenseness in each of their movements.
With Cordy, the air is charged too, but not like this. Cordy and I get going and it’s like this weird electricity buzzing around the room, these sparks that I keep thinking I’ll see when we touch. It’s almost, it Is arousing. Today the air tastes differently. Like anger and fear and barely restrained violence.
“You ready for a little hand-to-hand combat,” Buffy asked. “I think we’ve played enough with weapons for the day. Besides…I’m much better…with my hands.”
That was the other thing that was a little off, Angel thought. Buffy had been saying things. Things that were pretty odd, considering their current relationship. And she’d also been bringing up random Sunnydale memories at the strangest moments. She’d talked about making out through her window the night she was grounded. She asked him if he remembered the song they danced to at her prom. That was three years ago!
Angel walked over to her, so they stood facing each other on the mat. Her hair was shorter now, but still soft and feminine. She had on black tank top and blue yoga pants, the outfit highlighting her small body’s muscled frame. She seemed so…small. Not that she had been big before. Angel didn’t know what it was. Buffy had an air of fragility. Despite his knowledge of her strength, she just seemed “breakable.”
Maybe it’s all those months being down here with Cordy. All that glowing skin, those long sleek limbs, those curves… Always that urge, just barely contained, to reach out and grab, caress, taste. Buffy just gives me the urge to feed her. Stuff her full of comfort food until she seems more stable.
Angel had been having these thoughts while sparring with Buffy and now he paid for his distraction. She kicked him in the side so he was off balance, grabbed his arm and turned so that he was briefly facing her back. Then she flipped him. He hit the ground with an “Ummph” and was still.
Funny how I don’t need to breathe but I can still get the wind knocked out of me. Suddenly Buffy was straddling him. Neither spoke. She was panting and her eyes, they looked so determined. She moved her hands to his chest. Though the thin cotton of his black tee shirt, he felt the burning heat of her body.
Buffy lowered her head slightly, a tiny movement but it seemed to speak volumes to Angel. He noticed the slight hitch in her breath, the way her fingers gripped his shirt. He mouth opened and she took a breath, like she was getting ready to say something important, but than they both heard feet bounding down the stairs and looked to the left, even though Angel didn’t need to.
He knew who it was.
***
I have no right to be mad. We use the basement to train. It’s not like some VIP, invitation only room. Anyone can train down here. Even barely covered way-too-toned looking blond slayers.
Still, it was hard. Cordelia had practically run down the stairs, to her own chagrin, run down like a 12-year-old excited to see her crush, and had walked into a scene from a late-night Skinamax movie. The part immediately before the two leads ripped each other’s clothes off and had sweaty sex allover the floor.
Ewww, don’t think like that, don’t think like that. Come on Cordy, pull it together.
So, while she could feel a painful vise grip her heart, all Cordy said was, “Wow, nice to see you two getting so much training done.” She added a raised eyebrow, hoping for a blasé, “you two crazy kids” attitude.
Buffy didn’t make any move to get off Angel. It was like a twisted repeat of the scene she and the Scoobies had walked in on the day before. Except Cordelia wasn’t enjoying this one nearly as much.
“Hey Cordy,” Angel said nervously. He looked at Buffy, waiting for her to climb off of him. He wanted her off of him. This had felt wrong before Cordelia came downstairs, now it felt worse. When Buffy missed the signals, Angel finally just removed her himself.
He sprang up and dusted himself off, surreptitiously glancing at his Seer to gauge her reaction. She just nodded and tapped her foot on the floor. God she has cute toes. And that skirt. Does she wear that red skirt on purpose? She must know what the color does to men, even non-blood-sucking men.
“Did you want something Cordelia,” Buffy asked in a sickly-sweet voice. Buffy didn’t know why everyone was acting so funny. Cordelia looked like she had just swallowed a lemon and Angel looked apologetic, like he had been doing something wrong.
“I want so many things Buffy. Those shoes Sarah Jessica Parker wore in that last episode of ‘Sex in the City.’ A nice looking stock portfolio. A copy of ‘Say Anything’ on DVD.”
She seems jealous. Or like she’s trying to hide the fact that she’s jealous. No, she couldn’t be jealous. Not from seeing me with Buffy. I mean, for her to be jealous of that, she would have to…want me. Okay, so that’s not it. No matter the cause of her anger, Angel wanted it gone, SOON.
“As for right now,” Cordelia continued with a glare at Angel, “what I want is—”
“Right now you want lunch. Of course you do,” he said, soothingly. He walked over to the stairs and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re probably starving. It’s not like Spike cooks. And I bet Gunn ate all the leftover pizza.” Ahh, that got a glimpse of a smile.
“Lets go get you some food,” he said. Then her turned her around and followed her upstairs. Neither glanced back at Buffy, who stood in the middle of the mat looking perplexed.
Angel got to the top of the stairs before he yelled down to ask if Buffy was coming. Am I coming? Am I coming? What just happened here? “In a minute,” she yelled back and the door shut. Alone now, Buffy looked around the room. She had been trying so hard. Trying to put Angel, and herself, in the mood. She had been so close.
This, this just has to work. Angel is going to kiss me and everything will be okay again. I’ll stop licking my lips and missing the taste of Spike. I’ll stop. I’ll stop. Buffy looked down at her clenched hands and then at the punching bag in the corner.
What the hell.