Part 6
“I’ve got to hit the little Slayer’s room,” Buffy pushed her empty iced tea glass away. As it seemed that Willow wasn’t going to tag along, she added, “Back in a flash.”
Willow Rosenberg sat with Angel while the usual Friday-night mayhem and madness at the Bronze surrounded them. She saw that the vampire was staring down into his glass of Irish Whiskey, though she had not seen him take a single sip.
“We have to talk,” Willow tugged on the sleeve of his jacket.
Angel looked up with a faraway stare in his eyes, something she caught him doing quite a lot since his return from hell. The first time she had seen him, the vampire looked like he was a different person. Not his usual hunky, heroic, gentlemanly self at all. He was terse, angry at the world and almost scared of his own shadow. Not to mention badly groomed.
Hell apparently hath no mirrors. Even if it did, the vampire couldn’t see his reflection, so Willow couldn’t fault him for that. Giles had told her that time flowed differently in other dimensions. If it was truly Hell or just a hellish realm on another plane, Willow had no clue.
It seemed that Angel had spent far longer than ten months in that place, but even he had not been aware of the full passage of time. It was only the last couple of weeks that he was acting semi-normal. He was certainly not aware of the reason Willow needed to talk to him tonight without Buffy overhearing.
“Anytime, Willow,” the vampire was waiting.
Well, she had his attention. “No time like the present. Speaking of presents— it’s Buffy’s birthday next month. I figured we needed to start to prepare.”
A year, Angel reminded himself. It had only been a year, yet it seemed so long ago. “This isn’t something I can be a part of, Willow.”
“Why not?”
Surely the redhead wasn’t that clueless. Angel swallowed down his drink in one gulp and thought he might need another. “What happened on Buffy seventeenth birthday?”
Ooh! Pop quiz.
Willow’s bright smile suddenly fell as she remembered that was when all of their troubles began. “Spike and Dru sent Buffy an arm in a box, part of the disassembled Judge.”
“And the next night?” Angel prompted darkly.
“Oh. Well— uh. Just— hmm. I-I-I don’t think I need to remind you, Angel. Heh!” She scrambled for a way to get out of this conversation. All Willow wanted was to figure out how to give Buffy a small, but memorable eighteenth birthday celebration.
The vampire leaned close crowding into Willow’s personal space as he told her, “That was the night I fucked up everything. Even her. Not to mention myself. Lost my soul and took out your closest friends with a smile on my face.”
“That wasn’t you, Angel,” Willow frowned. “It was Angelus.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?”
Willow shook her head. Apparently not.
“I am Angelus.” The vampire was staring straight into Willow’s eyes as he repeated with more emphasis, “I *am* Angelus. He isn’t everything I am, but I am all that he is or has ever been. A vampire with all the instincts of a creature of the night.”
Willow gulped silently.
“Everything I did as Angelus, I can remember,” Angel told her. “Now ask me if I regret what I did that night?”
“No.”
“No?” Raising a dark brow in her direction, Angel saw her defiant little face. It was her resolve face, he realized. “Is that defiance or just a good guess?”
“I-I don’t want to know.”
“You started this.”
“Did not!” Willow countered crossing her arms like a shield in front of her. “I wanted to talk about presents.”
Angel laughed a sound that emanated from deep in his chest having little to do with good humor. “What do you suggest I give Buffy for her birthday? Jewelry? Roses? Another soul-rending moment in my bed?”
“How about a little respect?” Willow jumped off of the chair, facing him with fury. “It’s not everyday that a girl sacrifices the man she loves to save the world. Remember that the next time you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
Pushing past him, she stormed toward the main exit of the Bronze.
Stupid vampire! He didn’t need to get so growly just because he didn’t want to celebrate Buffy’s birthday. Maybe Angel even had good reason to want to stay away. That didn’t give him the right to be a jerk.
So what if he’d spent a hundred years in hell. He was now back in Sunnydale and alive— undead again. That seemed like a good reason to celebrate. Angel should be thanking her for giving him back his soul, but noooooo. He was all dark and broody.
In the two months that he had been back, Angel had come a long way from where he was upon his return. Willow wasn’t certain that he was back to his normal self. She had her doubts. He was still acting strangely. Antsy, like he expected the boogeyman to jump out and surprise him. Especially anytime he started thinking about Cordelia.
It didn’t even take someone saying her name. Just something that would remind him of her and he was instantly lost in his thoughts again.
Then Angel would be guilt-driven because he had killed her, seduced her and turned her all on that night after Buffy’s birthday. Okay! So maybe she was an idiot for bringing it up. How could Buffy’s eighteenth birthday possibly be as memorable as what followed the last one?
Mentally ranting, Willow charged directly into the path of someone trying to enter the Bronze. Looking up, she gave an automatic apology before continuing on. “Oops! Sorry, Cordy.”
The vampiress watched Willow walk ten feet before she froze in place. Standing stiffly, she kept facing forward. Cordelia heard her heartbeat quicken and her breathing halt as the redhead realized what had happened.
Hello, Willow. Come to me.
Peeping over her shoulder, Willow blinked several times trying to clear away the image she saw there. It was really Cordelia. Alive! Well, not so alive, but not totally dead like they thought. Gosh! Wow! This was amazing. Buffy hadn’t killed her after all.
Willow!
“Oh, yeah. How rude of me.”
Cordelia pulled her aside over beyond the edge of the building and into the alley that led behind the Bronze. She had fond memories of that alley.
“You’re taller,” Cordelia assessed. “And you aren’t dressed like a clown. Good. That’s good.”
“Thanks— I think.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Willow. I have plans for you.”
Willow frowned. “Plans?”
You’re going to help me.
Staring deeply into Cordelia’s hazel eyes, Willow thought about the words sounding in her head. She wasn’t like that stupid vamp, Angel— unwilling to lend a hand even for a happy occasion. Willow was a friendly-type person. Not like some broody creatures of the night.
“Okay.”
“Go to the Crawford Street mansion,” instructed the vampiress confidently. “Wait for me there.”
“Okay.”
Cordelia paused before heading back toward the entrance of the Bronze. “And Willow?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t let my minions give you a hard time.”
“Okay.”
Willow watched for a moment as Cordelia headed into the club. As soon as the vamp was out of sight, she dutifully headed in the direction of the mansion. Along the way, Willow realized that this was the first time she had actually seen Vamp Cordy.
Everything Buffy had told her was true. Cordelia was even more beautiful than before and it was almost disappointing that Willow hadn’t gotten to see her game face.
It occurred to Willow that she probably shouldn’t want to see the vamp’s fangy face, but it was still interesting from a purely demonological sense. Then her thoughts drifted to her destination. The Crawford Street mansion. Angel’s house.
Why was Cordy sending her to Angel’s house? Oh, well! Maybe one of those minions knew the reason.
***
“Where’s Willow?” Buffy had detoured to the bar to get another iced tea. Hopping up on her stool, she looked at Angel expectantly. He seemed distracted again. “Angel? Earth to Angel.”
“She left.”
“Huh.” Buffy wasn’t so slow that she didn’t realize something had happened between the two. “What was it this time? The ‘you shouldn’t mess around with my soul’ speech? How about the ‘you’re being too hard on Buffy’ rant?”
“No.”
“So?”
“It was the ‘I’m a vampire— leave me the hell alone’ threat.”
“Ah! One of my personal favorites.” Buffy sipped at her tea and then poked at the lemon slice amongst the ice with her straw. “What brought this joyful moment on?”
During the past two months, Buffy had done her best to drag Angel back from the depths of the hell he seemed to be determined to stay in. She wasn’t certain how he freed himself from his dimensional prison, but he had come back to the world literally naked in form and practically feral. Taking him to the mansion, she had kept him there hidden away from Giles and Willow— afraid of their reaction to his return.
In the beginning, Buffy had almost staked him— twice. Two occasions where Angel’s behavior was so vile that she felt certain his soul had never been restored. Those painful moments were difficult to forget, but she was trying. She kept reminding herself that Angel told her he loved her. She needed to believe that even if it was not her name on his lips the moment Acathla’s vortex sucked him in that Angel still loved her.
“It’s happening again,” Angel told her. “Something I can’t describe. Something I can’t explain. That feeling that— I just don’t know. Whatever it is, my demon wants to come out fighting.”
“You’re not used to going so long without patrolling,” Buffy figured. “You miss a good fight. You’re just anxious to get back in the game.”
***
Almost as soon as Cordelia entered the Bronze, there were people flocked around her. It wasn’t like the night of Valentine’s Day when Angelus brought her dancing. This was Friday and anyone who was anybody was here tonight.
The girls still known as former Cordettes caught sight of her immediately and were peppering her with questions and comments before she even made it ten steps into the club.
“Omigod! You are so not dead!”
“Where have you been?”
“Girl, you look hot in that dress! I love the shoes.”
“So what was with the cancelled funeral? I’ll have you know I even brought flowers to your memorial at the school and black is so not my color.”
Within moments, Cordelia spun a tale of complete balderdash that had her former friends gushing at the tragic romance of it all. Her parents had apparently discovered that she was seeing an older guy— a mature, but otherwise hot guy. They were planning to elope, but her parents had swept in from Europe at the last minute taking her with them.
Some Jane Doe had stolen her Corvette and was dumb enough to be caught dead in it. The police thought it was her just because the thief had her hairstyle and was wearing some of the clothes she had packed in the trunk for the honeymoon.
“What happened to your tan?”
“My parents took me to Alaska. Daddy was working on a financial deal. It’s night there most of the time.”
“It is?”
Trust me.
“Yeah. I think I read about that.”
“You read, Harmony?” Aura laughed at the idea. Then she asked Cordelia, “So when are you coming back to school?”
“Don’t have too. Without my fiancé, there was nothing else to do except study,” Cordelia let out a long sigh. “I graduated early.”
“Wow.”
“That was fast.” Aura wished she was already finished with school. “Why come back to Sunnydale? I figure you would be in LA or New York.”
Cordelia gave her a patient smile. “There is someone I have to see first.”
“How come we didn’t know this boyfriend?” Beth wondered aloud assuming he was the reason Cordelia had returned. “The last guy I remember you being with was— eew! — Xander Harris. Like he is so dead now.”
“Xander? Pfft! As if he had a clue about anything,” Cordelia laughed having forgotten that little detail. “Actually, he’s someone else you know.”
“Details— now!”
Pausing in thought, Cordelia nibbled on her lower lip as though having a difficult time with the decision to tell her friends. “I don’t want to give too much away just yet. Things still have to be worked out now that I’m back.”
“Cordy!” Harmony whined at her friend.
“Just a hint or two,” Cordelia grinned conspiratorially. “He’s got an adorable smile. A voice that will make your head spin. Knows a lot of things about— stuff. Doesn’t go to Sunnydale High, but works there. Let’s just say that I had good reason to visit the library after classes.”
“…”
All of the Cordettes were standing agape and speechless. Finally, Aura came out of her stupor long enough to venture a guess. “Your boyfriend— no, not a boy— your fiancé is actually Mr. Giles? Stuffy English librarian, Mr. Giles?”
Harmony shrugged, “I *like* his accent.”
“You should hear some of the things he said to me when we were alone in his office,” she gave them a smile. “I told you that high school boys know nothing. If you want it done right, mature men are the way to go.”
“You did it with Mr. Giles in the library?”
The girls let out a simultaneous, “Eew!”
“My parents claimed it was statutory rape,” Cordelia shrugged while trying not to laugh at the three dingbats who were eating up her lies. “They refused to let us get married and dragged me to Alaska to avoid publicity.”
“It’s amazing that no one heard about it,” Aura commented with a gasp.
Beth noted, “No wonder your parents went along with the funeral thing. They didn’t want anyone to know.”
“And I’m so glad that I can trust you with my secret,” Cordelia gave them all a smile of gratitude knowing that the story would be all over town by morning. “After all, it people found out— Rupert might lose his job at the school.”
With a wave of her hand and an overly brilliant smile, Cordelia sent her human minions on their way. All of Sunnydale would know that Queen C was back. Only this time, she was not only in charge of her own destiny, but theirs as well. Silly humans. They would believe anything just to avoid the truth until it came up and smacked them in the face.
It was about time this town had a major smackdown.
Having breezed into town with her new cherry red corvette, Cordelia had barely taken the time to point out the Crawford Street mansion to the six vampires who had followed her to Sunnydale before heading to the Bronze. This was where she would find the Slayer. It was time to put this plan into action and running into Willow so quickly had been a lucky sign.
There were so many heartbeats around her. The smell of human blood pumped by those beating organs through arteries and veins rushed with the familiar rhythm. Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub. It was an undercurrent to the music played by the band. A combination of such instinctive force Cordelia closed her eyes and started dancing. As she moved to the sounds and rhythms, the crowd parted before her as if enchanted by her beauty and awed by the sheer power of her presence.
***
“And so I was telling mom not to bother with the college applications,” Buffy continued her conversation with Angel. “Hello, I’m the Slayer. I can’t leave Sunnydale. I tell you, it was like talking to a brick wall.”
The music suddenly died and the entire club seemed to have fallen into silence. Angel was staring blankly into space again. Yeah. Speaking of brick walls. Without a word, the vampire got up off of his stool and moved toward the dance floor as if in slow motion.
Buffy started to get a wiggins. Her Slayer senses were suddenly bounding as she turned to see what trouble had caught Angel’s attention.
Trouble indeed! And its name was Cordelia Chase.
***
Was it only a week ago? Buffy guessed that it might have been less time than that. Just a few days since Angel told her of his plans to leave Sunnydale— and her— behind. Not that Buffy had taken that comment to heart. She denied his decision with her entire being. She was in denial even now that she was faced with the impossible truth that the vampire Cordelia somehow survived and was back in Sunnydale.
Angel kept harping on the fact that things were different between them even though she was willing to put the past behind them. Her ‘you aren’t Angelus’ speech had not gone over very well. There was too much water under the bridge he told her using her own euphemism to drown her in sorrow. Buffy wasn’t about to give up on their past and so reminded him of the night they shared together— before Angelus appeared.
“I didn’t know about the so-called Happiness Clause to the curse, Buffy,” the vampire claimed. “I would never have touched you. How was I to know? It never happened before.”
“Meaning—?”
He let out a wry laugh at her innocent stare. “Meaning that I haven’t lived the live of a monk for the past hundred years.”
“Oh.” Buffy actually found comfort in that thought, strangely enough. Being with her had actually given him joy, happiness, bliss. Then her sudden smile fell away. They could never have that again. Well, it didn’t matter; she steeled herself against their platonic fate. “I love you.”
Pausing, Angel told her, “Buffy, I can’t love you. There are too many reasons why it isn’t possible.”
“But—,” she began to protest only to be cut off.
“Starting with the fact that I tracked down and murdered your friends.”
Shaking her blond head, she told him, “Not you!”
“Yes it was. Angelus exists as more than a dark memory. He is the instinct that drives me forward. The voice in my head— not of reason, but desire. Telling me what I want, what I need and urging me to take it.”
“…”
“Keep the blinders on if it suits you,” Angel saw that she was not going to believe what he said. Buffy was determined to think of Angelus as a totally separate being. “It changes nothing. I killed Jenny Calendar. Snapped her neck and got off on the sound of it. Xander was more than just a mark in my mind. He was in his own idiotic and insignificant way my rival for you.”
Buffy pointed out that Xander’s death was not all Angelus’ fault. At least that was how she rationalized forgiving him for it. “Cordy killed Xander.”
Then Buffy realized she had mentioned the forbidden name. Cordelia. The one thing that really brought Angel to the edge of reason even after being back almost two months. His face darkened with emotions that she could not fathom.
“I was there,” he reminded her. “I sucked down Xander’s blood just as she did. At the same time she did.”
“Omigod!” Buffy suddenly caught the gruesome image in her head.
Angel didn’t stop there. “Cordelia’s little Valentine’s Day gift to me was luring the boy out into the open.”
“Hah! I knew she was responsible,” Buffy glared now happy that she had a really good reason for Cordelia’s ultimate demise in that abandoned mine shaft.
“I am responsible!” Angel thundered. “She was the first Scooby to die.”
Buffy had to ask even though she was certain not to like the answer. “Why did you turn Cordelia? Why not just kill her like the others?”
The demon inside him demanded he tell the truth. If the Slayer wanted to know, then she deserved to hear it. “Why would any vamp turn Cordelia Chase?”
Shrugging, Buffy guessed, “An urge to have your own personal shopper for eternity?”
“I wanted her.”
“…”
“Simple. Obvious. Satisfied?”
“No.” Buffy had never seen any indication of it. The brunette had practically thrown herself at Angel when they first met, but the vampire had purposefully done his best to avoid her. “When did this happen?”
“I’ve always wanted her.”
The confession caused Buffy to stiffen in reaction. Maybe she didn’t want to hear this after all. Angel seemed determined to make her mad. To push her away. Talking about his interest in Cordelia Chase at a time when he was supposed to be in love with her was not only shocking, but a painful betrayal of everything she thought they had together.
“Just think about it, Buff,” the vampire used the nickname that Angelus seemed to enjoy. “That perfect face with its brilliant smile. Her elegant neck just begging to be bitten. The rack on her— tits made for a man’s hands and mouth. Tiny waist and curving hips. Legs designed to wrap you up in their embrace.”
Snapping, Buffy had enough. “Shut up! I get the point.”
“Not really. My inner demon wants a lot of things, Buffy. I want a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I have a right to act on those desires,” Angel told her softly.
“The second you lost your soul you went straight from me to her.”
“A slight exaggeration, but it will do.”
“…”
Angel stepped a little closer. “You were the sunshine in my life as stupid as that sounds. My joy— until it became too much. Without my soul there was nothing stopping me from just taking everything I wanted. Trying to fulfill my desires.”
This little spiel was so not comforting. Buffy cut through to the part that disturbed her the most. “So— on some level you wanted to kill me and my friends?”
“I’m a vampire. On some level, I want to kill everybody,” Angel pointed out.
That thought was so scary that it actually made sense.
“It was all about you in the beginning,” his mouth twisted into a wry smile. “What we had together made me forget who I am. Made me feel happy, loved and human again.”
Buffy started to smile.
“Then my soul was ripped away and all that was left was the desire to make you pay for that. Part of me may be human— this outer shell and my memories. The rest is all demon and without the balancing effect and reason that my soul gives me, you are simply my natural enemy: a Vampire Slayer. Don’t forget it, Buffy.”
“So what happens now?”
Angel had been thinking about this for a while, but his mission to watch over Buffy was still in effect. Though he hadn’t done much lately to protect her. Quite the opposite. “I’m planning to leave town.”
“No!”
“What’s left for us, Buffy? A strained friendship. Sexual tension. We can’t be together. You can’t forget about Xander no matter that you say you forgive me. I can’t forget that you tried to kill Cordelia.”
He wasn’t anywhere near ready to forgive her for it.
“I-I did kill her,” Buffy had to remind him again. God, she hated this part. How many times did she have to describe the fight? Try to convince him that Cordelia was gone.
“No. I heard her,” Angel stressed. “She called out to me.”
Buffy paced in front of him. “It was a hallucination. Even Giles agrees. You just got your soul back. You were confused, had a sword through your chest and were in the process of being sucked into hell.”
Truthfully, Angel had his doubts. He just didn’t want to admit them aloud to anyone—especially Buffy. It would make it seem too real. She had taken him to the site. He had been back there on a number of occasions. Too much time had passed. The trail was cold. There was no trace of any scent remaining that indicated she was even there. No sign of footprints left behind. There was no body below. Any trace of dust had been washed away.
Angel could not sense Cordelia’s presence. There was nothing. It had been so long for him that the vampire wondered if it was possible to sense her.
The mansion, now his home again, was empty. All of his mate’s belongings remained intact. It looked like Spike and Drusilla had packed up the bare minimum and left town on the run. He couldn’t blame them for it.
If Angelus had succeeded, they would have had a few extra minutes, hours or days before hell caught up with them. His failure meant that the Slayer would probably come after the two of them next. Spike was an ass, but he had always taken care of Dru. It was a fact he would never be able to claim with Cordelia.
Angelus had gone ahead with his insane plan to break Buffy’s spirit by killing her friends one by one. If he had not been so focused on the Slayer, Angelus should have taken his mate away from the Hellmouth. That was all she wanted— to go to LA.
Maybe Buffy was right. He was kidding himself. Cordelia was dust. It was far too late for any regrets in that direction. Somehow, he had to atone for what he’d done. Leaving town was probably not the best way to do that.
“I’ll stay, Buffy,” the vampire let out a long sigh of resolve. “Unless I get a sign that my business here is done, I will stay until your graduation.”
“Is that what I am to you— business?”
“You’re more than that, Buffy,” Angel promised her. “You always will be.”