9
Convincing the manager to let them role-play for an evening had been easy enough. Buffy had smiled flirtatiously, Faith had pushed out her chest and within seconds the guy was thinking with his other head.
Faith snorted, adjusting the gold lycra bra and giving herself a once over in the mirror. Well, Wesley was right – she didn’t get to pick her outfit. She grimaced at her reflection. Even she wouldn’t wear something *this* tacky by choice.
Accompanying the bra was a gold low cut pair of micro – shorts that hugged her hips and ass tightly. A transparent gold scarf was wrapped around her waist, its length skimming her thighs. Her feet were clad in five inch golden heels that she’d nearly fallen over in twice already. She’d painted her eyes a glimmering gold, her lips a deep red. Her hair fell in waves over her neck and shoulders and a plastic, gold tiara crowned her head.
She checked her watch. 8.00 pm – Showtime. Squaring her shoulders, Faith sucked in a breath, bracing herself. Then she turned and walked through the red velvet curtain, separating the stage from the dressing room.
The joint was dark, except for the lights lining the bottom of the stage and the occasional flash of coloured florescent lighting. The stage in front of her was narrow and long, a good twenty feet at least, with three equidistant poles along its surface.
Faith took a step forward, nearly jumping out of her skin when a spotlight came down on her, highlighting her at the back of the stage. Several girls were dancing around her on different stages, outlined in their own spotlight. Closing her eyes, she released a breath. Then she began to move.
Strong, confident strides carried her across the stage and she grabbed on to the first pole, circling it slowly. She flicked her hair, letting the dull thump of the music guide her movements as she ran a hand over her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach…
Releasing the first pole, she reached for the second, spinning around it, undulating her hips suggestively. She pushed away from it, wrapping her calf around the third pole and holding onto it with one hand. She posed that way for a moment, searching the crowd for Gavin Park. Her eyes landed on him within seconds, eagerly watching her from the front row, a glass of whiskey twirling in his hands.
Faith grinned, arching her spine and dropping backwards, the pole holding her up as her hair swirled along the stage. She leaned up, switching legs as she whirled around the pole, landing gracefully on her ass and thigh, her right leg bent, the other beneath her. Slowly, she rose to her knees, crawling towards him, smirking when his eyes widened and his jaw dropped open.
It was a difficult task when she swung her legs off the stage in those ridiculous heels, through fortunately she stayed upright. She sauntered over to him, swaying her hips mesmerizingly to the music as she covered the distance between them. Gavin Park could only gape as she lifted her right leg, straddling him, sliding her hands over his chest, over his pounding heart and the rectangular bulge in his right jacket pocket. That wasn’t the only thing that was bulging, she noted with mild disgust.
Expertly swaying her hips, she leaned into his neck, tilting his head away from her wandering hand as it crawled craftily into his jacket pocket, removing the key card inside. Faith slipped it into the back pocket of her shorts, running the nails of her left hand over his chest. She smirked when he yelped, instantly getting off him and walking away.
A blonde waitress holding a tray of glassware crossed her path as she headed for the main door of the dressing room and Faith grinned, dropping the key card into an empty martini glass. Satisfied that it was in good hands, she walked past her to retrieve her clothes.
***
Buffy headed straight for the curtain behind the bar, the one that hid the club’s stock of snacks and alcohol from the audience. She quickly placed the tray down, changing out of the pink, horribly short waitressing dress and back into her normal clothes. Once she was dressed, she plucked the key card out of the glass and safely pocketed it, zipping up her jacket and slinging her bag over her shoulder.
She pulled the curtain back once again and headed for the exit.
***
“Excellent.” Wesley said, nodding his head vehemently as he spoke on the phone. “That’s splendid news, well done.” He shot Cordelia a thumbs-up, then continued pacing around the room. “You’re both safe? Good. Yes, well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
He hung up, placing the phone back in its cradle and turning to Cordy with a smile. “One down, one to go.”
Cordy grinned. “Cool.”
“Make any headway?” Wesley asked, taking a seat next to her. He stared at the red circles she’d traced across the Wolfram & Hart blueprint photocopy. “What on earth – ”
“This is the main entrance.” Cordy said, pointing it out on the blueprint. “There’s a security guard in the foyer with access to all cameras on the premises.”
Wesley frowned. “They have one man watching all the cameras?”
Cordy shook her head. “Here’s the catch. According to this,” She held up a sheet of paper from a file obtained through the warrant, “the same feed’s transmitted to a bunch of other sites. There are Wolfram and Hart lackeys watching this thing from all over. They can’t be too far away but we don’t know their exact locations.”
“That’s disappointing.”
“Not really.” Cordy drew a circle in the centre of the foyer on the map, labelling it. “If we obstruct the main feed, it’ll carry to the other ones.”
“Oh, of course.” Wesley said excitedly, scribbling down notes into an open notebook. “We could replace the present feed with a previous one of the same scene. Security certainly wouldn’t know the difference and you’d get by unnoticed.”
Cordy nodded. “Now we just have to work out how to do it without being seen before we break in.”
Wesley shot her a weird look. “We’ll just ask Angel.”
Cordy winced slightly. “Okay.” She quickly pointed to another red circle. “This is the entrance to the building via the terrace where we’ll be going in. It has a pretty complex alarm system but Buffy should be able to hack into it with the key card.”
“I still can’t believe Nabbit’s lending you his helicopter.” Wesley said with a grin.
“Please,” Cordy said, shaking her head fondly, “He’d *give* it to me if I asked him to.” She returned her attention to the map. “Security guards will be swarming the place but they only do routine checks every half hour. Once we’re hacked into the live feed, you can warn us where they’re coming from and how to avoid them.”
Wes nodded. “What are all these?” He asked, pointing at several of the circles Cordelia had drawn over different floors.
“Filing and documentation rooms, important offices, information sectors, etcetera.” Cordy turned to face her boss. “I figured we’d have to search them all to find what we’re looking for.”
“Perhaps.” Wesley said, removing his glasses and cleaning them. “Unfortunately, that wouldn’t do you much good. They’re all empty.”
Cordy’s eyes widened. “They’re all…what?”
Wesley lifted one of the folders off the table, handing it to her. “We already have copies of everything that was in those rooms. Kate’s warrant covered them all, remember?”
Cordy waved the folder around, shaking her head in confusion. “But there’s nothing about Angel in these files.”
“Right you are. Which leads me to believe that they’ve stored that information in a much less easily accessible place in the building.” Wesley placed a hand on the blueprint. “Private places that were excluded from Kate’s warrant due to their rules of discretion and confidentiality.”
Cordy frowned. “Like a personal office?”
Wesley stood, his hands in his pockets. “Like *the* personal office to which only the head of secure operations and senior management, and the liaison to the senior partners are granted access.”
He winked and Cordy grinned at him. “Ain’t that a kick in the teeth?”
Wesley shrugged. “They had it coming.”
***
“What the hell are you wearing?”
Xander glared at his companion as they walked down the pavement. “Look, just because I’m not dressed like some stupid Ken doll – ”
Riley grimaced. “No, you’d better fill the shoes of Barbie in that outfit.” He shook his head. “Talk about looking conspicuous…”
A few feet in front of them, several people were crowded in a long line along the wall. They rounded the corner and Xander frowned, dismally noting how the queue extended into the entrance of the club they needed to get in to.
Riley whistled. “Happenin’ place.”
“Yeah.”
A phone ringing startled them both and Xander shot Riley a dirty look as he dug it out of his pocket, a cheeky grin on his face. He flipped it open, holding it to his ear.
“Hello? Oh, hey.” His eyes softened and his features melted into a genuine smile. “Okay, we’re on it. Thanks Cor.” Riley shut the phone, gesturing to one of the bouncers. “She says we’re good to go. Nabbit got us on the list.”
“That’s amazing.” Xander murmured, following Riley as he headed for the entrance. “I can’t believe she knows David Nabbit.”
Riley scrunched up his face. “What was he, like your first boy crush?”
“NO!” Xander yelped, his cheeks burning. “It’s just…he’s like a billionaire. And he’s *our* age. It’s pretty cool.”
Riley shrugged, clearly not all that impressed. He stopped in front of the bouncer, frowning as the guy looked him up and down and then in the eye.
“Yeah?”
“We’re on the guest list.” Riley said shortly. “Riley Finn and Xander Harris. We’re friends of David Nabbit.”
The bouncer twisted his head to the side, giving Xander the once over. He raised an eyebrow at the colourful Hawaiian shirt.
“Don’t mind him.” Riley said. “He’s allergic to good taste.”
Xander gritted his teeth. The bouncer merely nodded and checked the clipboard in his hands, pulling back the red cloth barrier when he spotted their names. “Have a good evening.”
Xander headed straight for the entrance, only to collide with Riley’s back. He looked up in surprise, glancing to his right where Riley was looking, grinning like an idiot.
Two skimpily dressed women at the front of the queue were eyeing him up and down, one sucking on a lollipop, the other playing with her hair. Riley’s grin widened. “Evening ladies, do you – ”
“Have zips on those jackets? Cos it’s getting chilly out here.” Xander interrupted, finishing for him. He shot the glaring girls a grin, shoving Riley into the entrance of the club.
“What the hell is wrong with you man?” Riley growled, spinning around. “Just cos you’re not getting any – ”
“Do you *want* Cordelia to bitch-slap you into next week?” Xander asked, exasperated. “Cos she will and I’m not gonna do a *thing* to stop her.”
Riley glared at him for several seconds, seemingly processing this information before reluctantly nodding. He turned on his heel and headed for the second doorway leading to the dance floor, making sure to stamp his feet a good five times before he relaxed, walking normally. Xander merely rolled his eyes and followed.
Another bouncer in the second doorway checked their names again, stamping an invisible mark onto the back of their palms. From the doorway they stepped onto a short, ascending plank, leading to the very centre of the club. Once inside, Xander took a moment to look around.
The club was packed full of people, men and women dancing, drinking and flirting the night away. Architecturally, it was enormous, not to mention magnificent. The dance floor itself was large, circular and spreading out at least a hundred feet all around him. Behind Riley, a band played on a massive stage flanked by gigantic red velvet curtains. In the four corners of the club were spiralling staircases leading to the three floors above them. The balconies stretched across the perimeter of the club, bars, red velvet seating and vast crowds on each one, looking down on the dance floor.
Tentatively, Xander tapped a gaping Riley’s shoulder. “Uh, we’re supposed to find this…one woman in the middle of all this?”
Riley nodded mutely.
“Oh.” Xander released a breath. “Just checking.”
Riley was silent, until he shook his head, seeming to snap out of the brief funk he was in. “She comes here a lot, right? And she’s rich, so she must be important to them.” He looked up and around the huge club, across the dance floor and the balconies. “My guess? She’s up there.”
He pointed up and Xander followed his line of sight to the very top balcony, which, on second glance looked less crowded than the others. A waiter dressed in all black carried a tray of champagne flutes up the stairs and onto the third landing.
Xander nodded. “Alright Casanova, go work your magic.” He felt his pocket for the transmission device. “I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
Riley nodded, then quickly walked towards the staircase, heading up to the third balcony. Xander manoeuvred through the crowd, finally finding a discreet corner of the club. He leaned against the wall, flipped open the transmission device and waited.
***
Riley was a little out of breath when he reached the third balcony. Maybe he’d have to finally join Cordy on those early morning jogs she always talked about. Then again, sex was pretty good exercise…
The third balcony was a little wider, larger than the other two and it stretched further back though there were far fewer people. Red chairs and sofas were neatly arranged in small groups around dark, oak-wood tables and candles burned all around him, casting a dull orange glow over the space. A man dressed in a white dress shirt and dark suit stood just opposite him, his arms folded neatly in front of him.
“May I help you with something, sir?”
“Uh, yeah.” Riley concentrated on sounding confident. Truth was, he wasn’t big on the undercover. “I’m a friend of David Nabbit’s. Riley Finn?”
The man’s eyes seemed to light up at the mention of Nabbit and Riley wondered if maybe there was something to all of Xander’s excitement. The man pressed a finger to his earpiece, clearly conferring with some invisible colleague. Then he turned to Riley, smiling.
“Please make yourself comfortable, Mr Finn.” The man led him to an empty set of chairs. “If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks, man.” Riley took a seat, craning his neck in a vain attempt at searching for the girl. “Uh, actually,” He stood abruptly, trying to look casual, “Where are the toilets?”
“Straight down and to your left.”
Riley nodded his thanks and headed in that general direction, making sure to pass every group of chairs and sofas on his way. He passed a large group of men, possibly some sort of stag night, and then a couple who clearly believed in public displays of affection. There was also a man with a wedding ring seated around one of the tables. The woman whose leg he was stroking, however, had no such band around her third finger.
He’d almost reached the door of the bathroom when he saw her – thankfully – seated by herself, at a table just by the edge of the balcony. She was small, attractive, clad in a Chinese style dress that skimmed her thighs and ridiculous heels like the ones Cordelia so often paraded around in without breaking a sweat.
Riley took a deep breath, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a waiter who walked past him. His face relaxed into his most charming grin and he sauntered over casually, careful to keep it all in place.
“Excuse me.” When the woman glanced up at him, he gestured across from her. “Is this seat taken?”
Eve raised a cool eyebrow. “There are over a dozen free tables up here.”
Riley let a cocky grin slip onto his face. “Sure. But this one has great legs.”
Eve’s eyes widened slightly and she swiftly bit her lip. Riley recognized it as an attempt at holding in laughter. He smiled easily, dropping into the seat next to her and handing her a glass of champagne.
“Thank you.” She said, crossing her legs. “Do you do this a lot?”
Riley took a sip of his champagne. “Do what?”
“Walk around handing out glasses of champagne to unsuspecting single women?”
Riley laughed. “Come on,” He made sure to look her straight in the eye, “The way you look?” His gaze swept shamelessly over her body, then back to her eyes. “Men WANT to fawn all over you and you know it.”
Eve didn’t even blush. She shrugged, clinking her glass with his. “Are you suggesting I’m asking for it?”
Riley grinned, staring at her. “Something like that.”
***
The machine in his hand beeped and glowed, standing out brightly in the darkness of the club and Xander swiftly turned his back to the crowd, facing the wall. He stared at the cross-sectioned screen. The green scan showed up neatly in the centre of the monitor, flashing several times before remaining stagnant.
Xander grabbed for his phone, flipping it open and rifling through the address book for Riley’s number.
—
“So you’re a – shoot.” The vibrating of his left pocket had Riley grabbing for his phone, flipping it open. He rolled his eyes in annoyance, standing. “I’m sorry, my friend’s stuck outside in the queue.”
Eve stuck out her lower lip. “You’re leaving?”
“No.” He grinned wolfishly at her, running a hand through his hair. “I just have to get him in. I’ll be right back.” He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, a gesture that had brought many women, quite literally, under his thumb.
She smirked. “Okay.”
Riley turned swiftly, nodding once to the man at the top of the stairs before jogging down them, careful to keep his demeanour casual. He made a beeline towards the exit, spotting Xander, now back exactly where he’d left him.
“You got it.” Xander said, slight amazement in his voice as Riley approached.
“I always get it.”
“I think I have newfound respect for you.”
Riley grinned at him. “Always get that too.”
***
Her house was large, richly decorated and beautiful, whispering wealth and heritage. It had two elevated storeys, stark white walls with arched windows matching the main entrance, a grand porch and French windows across some of the front that stretched from ground to ceiling. The front lawn was big, elegantly adorned with a pebbled pathway and pink and white orchids that streamed through the bushes.
Cordelia closed the driver’s side door of her silver Porsche and locked it, stepping over the gravel and towards her front door. She walked swiftly, her bag swinging at her side. The evening breeze blew hair off her face and the back of her neck. It was soothing and Cordy closed her eyes briefly, rubbing a sour muscle in her shoulder. She couldn’t wait to just get inside and put her feet up on –
The sound of Jack barking startled her and her eyes snapped open. She quickened her pace, turning the key in the lock and hurrying through the doorway. She followed the sound to the back and towards the pool house, the adjacent edge of which sloped and extended towards the public beach. The location had been great for her dog and she loved living by the ocean too, loved the peace and the smells and the contact with nature.
Jack’s barking became louder and Cordy unlocked the back glass doors, stepping onto the patio. The outside light was already on and she froze in her tracks.
There, on one of her deck chairs, sat none other than Angel, a ball bouncing up and down in one of his hands. Jack stood opposite him, jumping excitedly along with the ball. Angel threw it a few feet away and Jack lunged, catching it in seconds. The dog turned swiftly and dropped the ball, as though noticing her for the first time. He scuttled over, his tail wagging frantically.
Cordelia just stood there, completely dumbfounded.
Angel on the other hand, who also appeared to have *just* noticed she was standing there, stood and walked over, a grin on his face.
“Hey.”
Jack wagged his tail at him, barking once.
“Hi.” Cordelia said, bemusedly fighting a smile and allowing a frown to slide firmly into place. “How did you know where I lived?”
Angel shrugged. Being the CEO of Wolfram & Hart was good for some things, she guessed.
“Right.” Cordy said. “You know, in some states, this could be considered harassment.”
Angel chuckled, placing a hand over his heart. “Ouch.”
She stared at him but he only stared back defiantly, and after a few seconds the smile she’d been fighting sneaked up onto her face before she could stop it. Cordelia rolled her eyes at the way his whole face seemed to light up. She turned swiftly and headed back inside the house, both Angel and Jack right behind her.
“Your house has sewer access.” He muttered. “Who knew?”
Cordelia scrunched up her nose. “Not me.”
Once inside, she switched on the light, placing her bag on the wooden table right beside it. Jack came bounding in and headed straight for the kitchen. Angel on the other hand, stood uncertainly in the doorway, his hands in his pockets.
Cordy turned. She looked at him, her brow creasing. “What are you doing?”
“I uh,” Angel cleared his throat. “I need to be invited in.”
“Oh!” Cordelia shook her head, pulling the door open as wide as possible. “Come on in.”
Angel stepped over the threshold, looking around the house. Cordy removed her jacket and hung it over the rack, turning to watch him as he wandered, first through the kitchen, then into the living room, running fingertips over marble countertops and soft, leather couches.
Watching his movements was making her scalp tingle. She shook off the feeling, a little annoyed. “Was there something you wanted, Angel?”
Angel shrugged, glancing at her. “Just wanted to see you.”
His eyes locked on hers and DAMMIT, there was that fluttery feeling again. Cordy sighed, looking away. “Look, Angel – ”
“This is a nice house.” He interrupted quickly, as though uninterested in her objections. That irked her more than the tingling.
“Thank you.”
“Good size, nice location, great view …” Angel trailed off, glancing at her with hot, dark eyes and she could swear her heart stopped. He took a step forward. “Cordelia – ”
Quickly, she cleared her throat. “Look, I’m really sorry if I’ve given you the wrong idea. But this,” she gestured between them, “is really unprofessional and really unlike me.” She dared a look at him, swallowing when now sad eyes met her own. Her heart severed neatly in two at his expression. Still, she continued. “So, it has to stop. Now.”
Her voice had dropped to a whisper but Angel only stared at her, heartbreak and anger flaring briefly behind his eyes. She felt a neat sliver of fear when they flashed gold, an intimidating reminder that he wasn’t entirely human. The silence seemed to stretch forever and she was sure he could hear her heart pounding in her chest, but suddenly he cleared his throat, straightening. His face closed up and he nodded, stepping past her and out of the living room towards the back door.
That odd wave of disappointment she’d felt the previous evening rushed through her once again and she opened her mouth briefly, before thinking better of it and snapping it shut.
Jack came running in from the kitchen then, stopping when he reached Angel. He nuzzled the palm that reached down to stroke him, barking once. Angel chuckled mirthlessly.
“At least your dog likes me.”
Cordy felt something jerk inside her, something new, bizarre and not altogether unpleasant – but then he was gone, and the door slammed firmly into place. She leaned back against the sofa, closing her eyes. Strange, she felt a deep void settle inside her stomach. When she opened her eyes, Jack was staring at her.
“What?” She asked him.
He barked.
Cordelia rolled her eyes, surprised at how they were suddenly blurry. Through the glass wall of her living room, she saw Angel, stomping angrily across the patio, through the gate and then onto the beach, walking away from her.
Her heart lurched. And suddenly, just like that, she knew how she felt.
Too little too late…
Jack barked again and she glanced at him, narrowing her eyes. “What do you want me to do? Go after him?” He wagged his tail. “Are you crazy? I do NOT chase after men.”
She huffed, surprised that she was considering it. Crossing her arms, she glared at the dog. “Since when did you start calling the shots, hmm?”
Jack only cocked his head, looking impatient. She tapped her foot against the floor, then her fingers against the counter. Her heart hammered deafeningly, once, twice. Jack yawned.
“Ugh, fine!” Cordy threw up her arms in defeat, flinging the door open and bolting through it.
—
Angel stalked across the beach, his arms stiff by his sides. He felt like his heart was bleeding but not one ounce of the turmoil inside was evident in his stoic expression. How had he fallen so hard for this girl? So fast? Since the moment she’d walked into his office he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. He’d made an uncharacteristic fool out of himself for her. And now she’d rejected him and he didn’t think he’d ever felt *this* sort of pain before…
Her scent suddenly hit him full force and he heard his name being called out from behind him. Hope flared in his chest but he ignored it and carried on walking. He heard his name a second time and it was definitely her voice. Before he could stop himself, he’d turned around.
Cordelia was running towards him through the sand in difficult high heels, the skirt of her skirt suit flying uncontrollably in the wind and exposing her right leg to the upper thigh. The wind swirled cruelly around her and her short hair flew in all directions, her nipples clearly visible beneath the tight t-shirt she wore.
He felt his whole body harden with want. If she was going to dismiss him again, she was a real bitch to do it looking like that. She probably thought she looked dishevelled. Angel thought she looked breathtaking.
She stopped a few feet in front of him, shaking her hair out of her eyes. Angel had to concentrate on keeping his eyes on her face.
“What?” He growled.
Her eyes narrowed, but then she seemed to yield. “Okay, I deserve that…”
Angel simply glared at her, not allowing himself to hope. “What is it, Cordelia?”
Cordy opened her mouth as if to speak but then snapped it shut. She tried again but to no avail. Her hands were gesturing wildly without words and Angel would have found the sight amusing if his heart weren’t in his throat.
“Well?”
“The thing is,” she managed, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “Uh, this is the thing, ” she paused again, searching for the words. Angel crossed his arms and glared at her impatiently. “Um – ”
“WHAT?” He snapped, growing agitated.
She jumped a little. “Well…”
“Cordelia.” He warned.
“Angel!” She whined, equally frustrated. She tried again. “I just, I…I – ”
His arms dropped to his sides in defeat and he turned to go, furious with her, and with himself. “You know what, if you’re not even going to – ”
“You know what?” She interrupted, briskly bridging the gap between them and throwing her arms around his neck. “Just shut up.”
Her lips collided with his and he jerked in shock, resisting on principle for only a second before he groaned and roughly pulled her to him, one arm locking around her waist and the other sliding through her hair.
His mind exploded. Earlier doubts and thoughts turned to mush as she kissed him, her arms tightening around his neck and drawing him closer. The hand in her hair pressed her snugly to him and the one around her waist drew patterns over her hip. Cordy shivered and Angel ached to know if it was the breeze or his touch.
He unwound his arms from her body and slipped his blazer off, whipping it around her and wrapping her up warm in it. Her lips curled upward as the movement pressed her flush against him and he stole precious kisses from her mouth.
Cordelia’s tongue swept sensually against the roof of his mouth and Angel whimpered, hardening against her as their bodies merged. Cold solidity met soft warmth and they both shuddered, their kiss deepening. The waves crashed against the shore and the stars twinkled knowingly in the sky as Cordy slid one hand over his shoulder and cupped his face in a caress so loving and gentle that finally, Angel knew.
He had his answer.
