Angel’s head turned swiftly toward her as soon as the soft words were out of her mouth. It seemed his attention wasn’t completely turned elsewhere after all. Well…good. She was glad he heard her.
Except Cordelia realized she used her pet name for Angelus with her tart suggestion. With her body feeling one thing and her mouth adding to Cordelia’s confusion, it did not take an irate look from the vampire to know she was in trouble.
Now wanting nothing more than to get back to Cordelia’s side and erase that haughty glare from her eyes, Angel remembered that he was still in the middle of letting Xander Harris off the hook. Turning back to the teenager, he carefully explained, “Cordelia is none of your business, but Buffy is no longer mine if that’s what worries you. So relax. Just watch your mouth.”
Xander ignored the part of the statement about watching his mouth. It was the same advice that Giles had given earlier. Hey, talking just came naturally. It was a defense mechanism— only in reverse since it seemed to cause certain vampires to attack him for making a simple point.
“So you’re saying that you already love Cordelia?” His curiosity was piqued now. Yes, it had been an easy jump to imagine the forever love with Buffy instantaneously renewing itself since Xander imagined her to be eager for it, but Cordy wasn’t exactly hanging on to New Guy Vamp’s every word.
Was she? Though she didn’t exactly present the ideal picture of the grieving widow, Xander figured she had to be hurting on the inside.
Willow jumped in to answer Xander’s question before the vampire could affirm or deny his affections for Cordelia Chase. “Angelus loved her. Angel loved her even if his psycho vamp behavior was a little scary. Liam didn’t know her. So by my calculations at least two-thirds of him loved Cordelia and I seriously doubt— from what we…uh…saw of him— that Liam wouldn’t think Cor was a hottie. Loves her? You do the math.”
Standing there in frozen contemplation of Willow’s theory on love, Cordelia noticed that the vampire was back at her side just in time to hear the utterance of disdain fall from her lips in the form of a soft, “Pfft.”
“Not my best subject, Will,” joked Xander while silently admitting his friend was right. Just looking at Angel and Cordelia, he could tell that there was something between them.
What he wouldn’t give to be telepathic right now. The vibes coming off the pair of them were electric. The intensity even gave him shivers halfway across the room. Both stood silently focusing only on the other and neither one with a single readable emotion on their faces. Not that Xander could tell anyway. Though he knew enough to realize there was a lot being said without a word being spoken.
Standing with her hands propped on her hips, Cordelia merely returned Angel’s stare without a hint of apology. She had every right to her opinion and it wasn’t as if she was responsible for his vampire hearing picking up her soft utterances. Not like she said them on purpose just so he’d hear.
Not like it mattered that Buffy had looked like she wanted to crawl up his body and wrap her arms and legs around him. Not like Cordelia cared or had any rights to him. Not that she believed Willow’s little theory.
Cordelia denied that it had any effect on her whatsoever. Walling herself off from sudden jealousy or the spreading warmth of curiosity that hit after Xander questioned Angel’s feelings, she was determined not to let herself feel anything for this— stranger. Though it might be good to know what he was thinking because right now Cordelia wasn’t certain what was going to happen next.
Angel’s gaze went black, so dark the depths were as fathomless as obsidian; impenetrable and hard as the stone itself. If it was love, lust or anger he was feeling, Cordelia could not determine it to be true. His taut frame suggested reigned in power, actions controlled by a razor thin edge of restraint.
Love? It couldn’t be. This new vampire existed with the shadow of memory, nothing of his own experience. Willow’s calculations might be true if it talked of desire rather than heartfelt emotion. That seemed undeniable. Hello— vampire! The Moirae’s champion was charged with sexual magnetism, but Cordelia wanted no part of it.
No matter that the steely muscular planes of his body and the appealing angles of his face perfectly matched the image she equated with love— there was a difference.
Her mind knew it. Her heart felt it. Her body? Well, it was just confused.
If she closed her eyes, Cordelia knew Angel’s presence would be no less palpable. On the outside, she remained the picture of cool disinterest. Inwardly, her heart beat madly and every traitorous nerve ending tingled in response. Recognizing her automatic reaction, Cordelia narrowed her gaze as if to blame him for it.
Go ahead, vampire, Cordelia still found it difficult to think of him as Angel and kept distancing herself from the name. Do it. Whatever it is you’re planning.
Cordelia’s hazel orbs bore deeply with a mix of emerald, topaz and burnished gold daring silently for action. Slowly deciphering the hidden messages, Angel found himself torn by her conflicting signals. One thing seemed clear enough.
Looking for a fight? Don’t think I can’t tell, sweetheart. That I don’t know you.
Moving that extra inch forward, Angel brought his tall frame into the barest contact with hers causing a sharp intake of breath as the pebbled tips of her breasts brushed against his shirt. Anticipation or fear, Cordelia. Pick one. Can’t have it both ways, baby.
What’ll it be, huh? Gonna touch me with those wicked fingers? Kiss me until I see the stars? Cordelia knew lust. He wanted her and made no bones about it. No denial there. On his part. Make your point in front of my friends, champ. Just know that it’s them you’re convincing. Not me. I’ll never let you into my heart.
There it was again, Cordelia decided. That look of utter confidence suggesting she was on the losing side of this silent battle. Hell if she’d let this usurper make her quiver in fear— or longing in anticipation of his touch.
Is it anger? Questioning her own assumptions, Cordelia wondered if he was not mad at her for making comments about Little Miss Likes to Fight. Not that he seemed to want the blonde if his words to Xander were as truthful as they sounded.
Pure anger— I can deal. Go ahead and bite. Spank me. Shake me senseless. Whatever it takes. Go on. Give me an excuse to leave— because it’s not right. It’s not fair to them to be with you.
Sensing the sudden buildup to…something, Giles decided to step in. He had no wish to end up with either Angel or Cordelia’s wrath upon him for interfering, but the library was hardly the place to air out their issues. No doubt there were many. He had to admire the fact that Cordelia was even able to crawl out of bed to come to the meeting. After Jenny’s death— frankly, he was still not over it completely.
Clearing his throat rather loudly, Giles commented, “Angel, I think it would be good to see you handle a routine patrol tonight. Just to assess your handling of the situation in comparison to what we know of your…predecessors.”
For a moment, the vampire did not respond to the suggestion. He was too focused on the sight of Cordelia’s ripe lips parted such a short distance from his own. She licked at her lips, moistening them beneath the onslaught of his stare, but only because they were dry and not that she had any conscious thought of tempting him.
“Angel,” the Watcher called out again.
Lifting his dark head, Angel gave Cordelia one last look before turning away. This silent conversation was not over. He promised her that with only a quirk of an eyebrow and the slightest curve of his mouth.
“I heard you the first time, Rupert,” Angel answered calmly. There was no tension in his voice, no hint that he was bothered at all by their confrontation, Cordelia realized with an angry breath. She sucked air into her lungs and held it deeply until it burned, the anger at his control nearly causing her to shriek out his name and demand a response.
Which was it? Lust or anger? Or did he really expect her to believe in Willow’s theory? Not like the little witch had been on-target with her magick lately, so why fuss over the fact that her calculating brain decided it had an equation for love.
Slowly releasing the air, Cordelia noticed that the Scooby Gang was too busy looking at Angel or listening to Giles’ plan for patrol to care or notice that her careful mask had faded momentarily. It appeared that the vampire was not going to give her excuses of any kind tonight. Not with an audience present at any rate.
“I’m not exactly dressed for patrol,” Cordelia pointed out when Xander asked her to pick a weapon from the selection he had gathered. “Think I’ll head home.”
Xander realized there was more to her statement than concerns about her leather skirt and stylish boots. She kept looking toward Angel from beneath her long eyelashes waiting for him to respond. There was a flash of surprise in the cheerleader’s eyes as Angel answered her agreeably.
“See you later, sweetheart,” Angel captured her chin in a gentle hold and brushed his lips across hers.
Her lips remained pursed in surprise at his easy acceptance of her suggestions. The vamp hadn’t let her out of his sight for more than a minute all day. So maybe Angelus or Angel wouldn’t have wanted her out on patrol in the midst of potential danger, but it seemed a bit strange that Sir Vamp-a-lot was suddenly trusting her out of his immediate presence.
Removing his keys from his pocket, Angel handed them to her. “You take the car. I’ll walk back after patrol.”
“You’re letting me drive the Plymouth without you?” Cordelia barely controlled the urge to giggle in delight. Fortunately, it was overridden by the realization that this was highly suspicious. Home alone and control of his precious classic?
Not that it was his, Cordy reminded herself quickly.
“No big,” he answered casually although his dark eyes were sparkling with something she couldn’t quite discern.
“Yeah. No big. You just go out there and do— whatever a champion does,” Cordelia gave him a tight smile, “that’s different from everyone else.”
Meaning different from what Angelus and Angel could accomplish, he surmised with an absolute sense of surety. Still blaming him for taking away her mate and would-be-lover. It wasn’t that Cordelia didn’t understand the truth. She was far too intelligent to fail to understand Giles’ explanations. It was pure denial.
Time and distance, the Watcher had suggested to him. Angel thought time wouldn’t be a problem. That he could be patient as long as he could hold her in his arms. Smothering Cordelia with attention would not be any wiser than letting her run off on her own with the hopes that she would return. There was a fine line to walk with this fiery young woman if she was to accept him as her mate.
Angel wanted that acceptance, but knew in the depths of his being that his decision to claim her would not change no matter her decision. When he would just as soon keep her at his side, he held out the keys to his car and encouraged her to go. To stretch her wings. To taste the independence that was so important to her.
Even if it was an illusion.
“Drive safely.” Angel made his words a caress across her cheek which caused Cordelia to tilt her head away in silent protest; except the move only provided him with access to the exposed cord of her neck. His cool lips pressed a butterfly kiss there.
So much for giving her space, Angel backed off and shoved his hands in his pockets as he censured himself. He could hear Cordelia’s heart pounding beneath her ribs with a telltale beat. Just go while I still have the nerve to let you out of my sight.
***
Willow and Oz had elected not to come on patrol, informing everyone that they had something else to do. While Angel figured this was a cryptic way of stating they wanted some private time together, it hadn’t been any of his business and he forgot about it the moment the words were out of Willow’s mouth. What the hell was Oz and the little red witch up to?
Noting that there was no sign of the Plymouth in the driveway, Angel hoped that meant Cordelia had put it away in the garage. The sinking feeling that hit his stomach caused him to leave the front door gaping wide as he entered the house. He followed the noise of the television to the living room.
“Where the hell is Cordelia?” Angel demanded of the pair curled up on the couch.
“Angelus,” gasped Willow as she took in his appearance. “You’re hurt.”
“The blood’s not mine,” he dismissed her concerns. Other than aching muscles and a few deep bruises, he was fine. “Where is Cordelia?”
“Upstairs,” Oz assured him.
A heavy weight lifted from the vampire’s shoulders at the realization that Cordelia had not taken the first opportunity to run. That didn’t explain what these two were doing here. Asking them, Angel learned that they were worried about his ma— about Cordelia. That they didn’t want her to be alone right now. So they had followed her under the pretense of cleaning up the mess left behind from the summoning spell.
Still standing on the threshold of the living room, Angel glanced back over his shoulder to note that the foyer appeared spotless once again. No sign of yesterday’s activity at all. He thought it strange that Cordelia would abandon guests even if they were just Willow and Oz. “How is she?”
The witch and werewolf exchanged glances trying to figure out how to answer Angel’s question. With an expression of pure honesty, Willow let out a long sigh and told him, “Sad.”
Not that he hadn’t known that or expected it, but Angel felt the impact just the same like a tight hand crushing his heart. “She told you that?”
“No,” Willow admitted. “Cordelia actually talked a lot— about stuff. School. Homework. Cheerleading. The Dingoes. Anything and everything except you.”
Oz hit the power button on the remote control shutting the television off. “We’ll be going now that you’re back. Cordelia is one in a million. Willow and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to make this more difficult on her than it already is.”
“There is no need to warn me off,” Angel contained his growl of irritation. It wasn’t so much what Oz said as it was the fact that the werewolf thought it necessary. It was the same damn warning that Rupert Giles had given him.
Time and distance. No matter how much that made sense, Angel knew he would not be able to give her much of either. He was trapped between wanting her unconditional acceptance and needing to lay claim to her in ways that would leave no doubt in her mind that she was his.
After bidding Willow and Oz goodnight, Angel slowly made his way upstairs toward the bedroom. He felt like doing nothing more than crawling into bed and curling up behind Cordelia, but the demon fight in the Old Sunnydale Cemetery had taken its toll on him. So much for being a champion, he mused. The Moirae’s title hadn’t given him any new advantage over the demon that he could tell despite Rupert Giles’ observations.
Angel strolled into the bedroom realizing immediately that there was no sign of Cordelia, just the light peeping from beneath the closed bathroom door. The soft splooshing sounds of water suggested that she was in the bathtub. Their suite had both a large bathtub and a shower stall, but Cordelia preferred the luxury of a bubble bath when time allowed.
He remembered the last time he shared— no, that was Angelus, he swiftly reminded himself. Angel rested his forehead against the bathroom door just listening to the sounds from within including the steady beat of Cordelia’s heart. Its rhythm called out to him in its familiar tune and it no longer mattered that the memory of it was not his own because each moment spent in her presence brought those memories to vibrant life.
When Angel’s soft knock sounded on the door, Cordelia nearly dropped the book she was reading into the tub. There was no doubt in her mind who was out there— the vampire. It only came as a surprise that he bothered to knock.
Maybe he’ll go away if I ignore him, Cordelia thought wistfully. Right. Pfft! Buy that bridge in Brooklyn while you’re at it.
“Cordy?” The question came along with Angel opening the bathroom door. Apparently, she had taken too long to respond to his knock.
“Hey! You’re letting all the heat out,” Cordelia complained as he stood in the doorway.
Stepping inside, Angel shut it behind him while trying to hide his amusement over the fact that she had obviously intended him to stay on the outside. Too late now. He was too busy soaking up the sight of her to leave again so quickly. Cordelia’s soft chestnut hair was swept up into a curling twist on the top of her head leaving loose strands caressing the curves of her face. Heat from the water turned her skin a rosy hue flushing her neck and the slick skin of her shoulders visible above the bubbles. One leg was bent upward, its knee peeking out of the water with tiny white bubbles clinging lovingly to its silken flesh.
Leaning back against the door, Angel flinched in momentary pain as his shoulder blade came into contact with the wooden surface. Cordelia’s eyes widened and proceeded to travel from head to toe looking for other signs of wear and tear from patrol. He didn’t want to worry her over nothing. “What are you reading?”
Cordelia could care less what she was reading. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Angel denied it. He went back to his original question. “Something for school or pleasure?”
“It’s King Lear,” Cordelia rolled her eyes, “not Cosmo.”
Pursing his lips wryly, Angel commented, “I meant reading for fun, not how to pleasure yourself or your mate.”
The bathwater sloshed in reaction as Cordelia dropped her leg beneath the waterline. “I wasn’t talking orgasms either, but now that you mention it, Cosmo is a lot more educational than Shakespeare.”
He had to laugh at her way of thinking. “Sex education perhaps. Though it surprises me that you don’t take an interest in studying King Lear considering his daughter has your name.”
“As if I need to be reminded that my own life is a tragedy,” Cordelia glared as she shut the book and tossed it onto the floor.
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Angel stared at her like she’d slapped him in the face.
Cordelia lowered her arms into the tub and sank a little deeper into the bubbles. He didn’t seem to be planning to leave, so she found herself chattering and asking him about patrol, a subject that surely had to be a safe one— unless Buffy had tried something while she was not there. The idea bothered Cordelia, though she had no idea why it would.
“We went to Old Sunnydale,” Angel referred to the oldest existing cemetery in town.
“Not my favorite,” Cordelia scrunched up her nose. “It’s spooky and smells like rotting flesh and old tennis shoes.”
Angel couldn’t deny it. The place wasn’t the most pleasant internment site, but because of its age was often the center of demonic activity in comparison to the typical vampire risings at new cemeteries. As he removed his jacket, wincing slightly while moving his shoulders, Angel told Cordelia, “We ran into something unusual.”
That could mean anything, Cordelia surmised. Sunnydale wasn’t exactly the home of your average Joe demons. “How unusual?”
“Oh it wasn’t the demon that was unusual,” he explained as he dropped the jacket onto the top of the hamper and started to unbutton his shirt. “That was your typical eight-foot behemoth with a tendency to rip people limb from limb.”
“Nice fella,” Cordelia mumbled as her attention wandered down the course Angel’s fingers were taking until he reached the part of his shirt tucked into his pants. He yanked it out and continued to unbutton until his shirt lay open revealing a hint of the muscular torso beneath.
Angel slipped off his shoes and pulled off his socks. “The lawyers who summoned him to our dimension didn’t think so when he killed them all.”
“Lawyers?” Cordelia was almost distracted from Angel’s slow striptease. She nibbled at her lower lip as he moved to unbuckle his belt.
“That’s the weird part.” Angel had no idea why a group of lawyers from L.A. would be in a Sunnydale cemetery summoning other-worldly demons. Even the Watcher was rather stumped by the discovery. “Rupert found one of their business cards and a copy of the spell they used to bring the demon here. They work for a firm called Wolfram & Hart.”
Cordelia never heard of them nor cared to. In fact, she was getting a little bored with the demon story. “So you killed the demon.”
“Yeah,” Angel nodded as he removed his shirt adding it to the pile on the hamper.
The sight of the dark blue bruises covering his torso startled Cordelia into calling out his name as she sat straight up amidst the bubbles, “Angel!”
He smiled softly, reassuring her, “I’m okay, baby. Really. It’s just a few bruises. They’ll be gone by morning.”
Just a few bruises?! “You look like a demon punching bag,” Cordelia gasped in outrage. “I thought the Moirae would at least make you invulnerable when they made you into Super Vamp.”
“Apparently not,” Angel glanced down at his bruised torso.
Reminding herself that she wasn’t supposed to care, Cordelia commented, “That’s what you get for not taking me along on patrol. I coulda kicked a little demon ass.”
“You wanted to come home.” Then Angel reminded her, “We agreed you wouldn’t put yourself in any more danger until you were properly trained.”
“We didn’t agree to anything,” Cordelia pointed out. Besides, she didn’t see herself training with Sir Paws-a-lot considering his touchy-feely tendencies. “I’m not going to train with you.”
Angel remained silent on that one. It was an idea whose time had come, she just didn’t want to admit it. He pulled his belt out of the loops of his pants and folded it in his hand.
“I was surprised that you left me alone tonight.”
“You weren’t alone,” Angel shrugged through the discomfort the move created. “Willow and Oz came over.”
“You didn’t know they would do that,” Cordelia countered. “Did you?”
Admitting, “No.”
“Was it a test, Angel?”
For a second, he was distracted as she used his name again. Test? What?
“To see if I’d be here when you got back,” Cordelia answered his unspoken question. “To see if I’d take the first chance to leave you.”
“I thought about it,” Angel made his confession.
“Oh.” Cordelia figured he’d go for denying it. “W-What would you have done?”
Angel stepped close to the edge of the tub gazing down at her. “What do you think?”
“Come after me?” she asked after a pause.
“Yes.”
“Bring me back?”
“Yes.”
“You’d do what you said when Giles was here,” Cordelia licked at the full curves of her lips.
Angel didn’t sense any fear as she reminded him that he already told her precisely what he would do if she dared attempt to leave him. There was intrigue showing in those hazel orbs questioning whether or not he would follow through with that threat. A hint of mirth at denying him the pleasure of tying her to his bed might also be found in her bright gaze unless he was imagining it.
Angel dropped the hand holding the curled belt to his side putting it in Cordelia’s direct line of sight. “You don’t have to be bad to be tied up, baby. Just ask me if you want it.”
“I prefer to do the tying,” Cordelia huffed in return now staring at the slowly vanishing mound of bubbles. Adding swiftly, “Not that I’m planning to.”
“Too bad,” Angel grinned that toothy grin that sent shockwaves down her spine. He put the belt down on top of his shirt on the hamper. “We’ll just leave that topic open for discussion at a later time.”
Fine. Cordelia sank back down into the water’s warmth trying to slow her rapidly beating heart. Now that that was clear, a more pressing thought occurred to her as she realized that she’d never kicked him out of the bathroom and now he seemed to be taking off his clothes. “What are you doing?”
“Undressing,” he answered with a grin that told her it should be obvious. Angel unzipped his pants and shoved them to the floor leaving him totally nude before her.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Cordelia snarked feeling her anger growing by leaps and bounds. “I was asking what you were planning to do once you finished with the getting naked.”
Cordelia kept her eyes focused on his, not daring to lower her gaze even under the pretense of checking out his injuries. He gave her a look that told her he knew precisely what she was thinking. “I was planning on hitting the shower. Unless you want company in the tub. Bubble therapy is probably even better for bruises with a taste of Cordelia in the mix.”
“No!” Cordelia snapped back quickly. She reached a hand out of the tub and felt around on the tile floor for her copy of King Lear never minding the fact that doing so made the cover rather soggy. “I’m homework girl tonight. Gotta read. No distractions.”
“That’s what I figured,” Angel opened up the door to the shower and turned on the water letting it run hot.
No sooner had he stepped inside the shower stall, than Cordelia took the opportunity to dart out of the tub, grabbing a towel along the way and leaving a trail of bubbles behind. By the time Angel emerged from the bathroom, Cordelia was bundled into a pair of her comfy jammies— a cotton top and bottom that looked nothing like her sexy nightgowns. She was propped up in bed with her still soggy edition of King Lear when Angel climbed into bed next to her.
Using her peripheral vision, Cordelia eyed him cautiously, pretending not to notice when he moved closer to her warm side of the bed. Angel lay on his back, his hands resting on his taut abdomen, but he was looking her way. “Kiss me goodnight.”
Her eyes snapped back to the page she was pretending to read. No way, Jose.
“Cordy,” his voice took on that deep timbre she could not ignore. It was neither a plea nor an order, but the sound of her name on his lips forced her to turn in his direction.
“Maybe I don’t want to kiss you,” Cordelia muttered even as she leaned closer to his handsome face.
“Then don’t kiss me if you’re afraid to,” Angel’s eyes gleamed with mischief knowing Cordelia was incapable of letting him get away with that particular statement.
Gaping at him, Cordelia responded with a harsh glare. “Afraid? Pfft!”
“Then kiss me goodnight.”
Scooting over so she was positioned on her side looking down at him, Cordelia leaned forward only to pause with her mouth hovering over his. Angel’s eyes were open as he watched and waited for her to make the move he’d dared her to make. Her hand moved inadvertently onto his bruised shoulder causing him to react to her touch despite being focused on the soft lips so close to his.
The slight jerk of his muscles in response to the pain was enough to distract Cordelia from her task, or give her the excuse she was looking for.
“You’re so bruised,” she let her eyes wander over his bare torso until reaching the blanket’s edge. Even if he wasn’t her mate or the Angel she loved, he was still a person. It hurt to see him injured this way and not provide her usual brand of TLC. She couldn’t because Cordelia knew he would take it as acceptance of his place in her life.
Cordelia wasn’t prepared to admit that he had a place. She only wondered how she was going to live with this vampire and not betray her feelings for Angelus. That meant she could in no small way let him into her heart.
“Kiss it better?” Angel suggested as he lifted a hand to palm her cheek. Then he knew the moment he asked that he’d made a mistake for the soft concern in Cordelia’s eyes turned to ice.
“Why you?” Cordelia demanded. “Why did the Moirae choose to make you a champion? Do you even know what that means?”
The moment for goodnight kisses had ended, Angel realized woefully. He slid his thumb along the curve of her lower lip wanting to taste its plump sweetness, but knew such an offering was not coming his way.
“I have no idea what the Moirae are up to or how I fit into their cosmic game, Cordelia,” Angel admitted softly as he continued to caress her face with his fingertips. “I regret that you’ve been hurt by their actions, but I can’t tell you that I’d wish they’d done otherwise. Because I want to be here doing whatever it takes to keep us together.”
Cordelia’s pulse raced as his fingers trailed down her throat. “We’re not together, Angel. We just sleep in the same bed.”