Title: Number 5 (To Be Decided)
Posted Here: 31 Dec 05
Rating: NC-17 sooner or later
Spoilers: Set S2 (beige arc)
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: GT, anyone else, just ask.
Thanks/Dedication:Since I’ve kept Deb (DamnSkippy) on the hook way too long waiting for more C/A, here’s the start of a dangerous little thingy to get things underway. This is also in response to samsom who seemed intrigued by this particular first line 🙂
What was a ritual born of jealousy was almost an addiction now. The idea blossomed in her mind the day Angel scented her like prey, unable to control his desires for a dead whore.
Flushed with fury, she’d slammed her desk chair into his shins and leapt away, heart hammering, knees weak. Spent the rest of the day reading research guides and texts she had neither the capacity nor the desire to understand and doing everything and anything to bury the moment.
That night, after treating Dennis to classic Cordeliana – a rant of profane invectives, threats and torrents of tears, all directed at Angel – she stewed in the tub for an hour, alternately thinking of convoluted scenarios in which she dusted Darla and imagining Angel distracted and obsessed not by his sire, but by her.
After the bath, for the first time since eschewing fragrance to spare Angel’s sensitive olfactory system, Cordelia opened the only bottle of perfume she owned. With a flourish, she swept a line of Annick Goutal beneath each breast, and drew a scented stroke along the inside of her thigh. The very indulgence made her wet.
Thus, Cordelia’s signature scent was formed: equal parts French parfum plus equal parts nectar from her very own well.
On days when she was particularly aggravated by Angel’s loutishness, Cordy would neglect the Annick and simply dab pussy juice behind her ears.
It was such a day when he fired his staff.
That night, drunk and dizzy, Cordelia fell into her dressing table, sending the vial of ridiculously expensive perfume crashing to the floor. Despite the loss she continued to anoint herself with her own musk, clinging to the absurd hope that somehow Angel would notice.