***
“So— nobody else lives here?” Buffy was asking as she looked around the building halls.
“Just me,” Angel confirmed.
“Hmm.”
Angel opened the door to admit Buffy into his apartment. He had found Buffy at the far end of the cemetery in the process of finishing off the demon. Afterward, they talked about what happened with Cordelia in more detail.
“I’ll just get her bag and we’ll be out of your hair,” Buffy told him glancing around the empty living room. “Where is Cordelia?”
“I put her in my bed— room. Less cluttered in there.”
Buffy found that Cordelia was in Angel’s bed. On top of it, anyway. She was fast asleep and it looked like she had been crying. A twinge of pity surfaced as Buffy looked at the sleeping teenager. Then Angel swept around the side of the bed with such a quiet move that Buffy jumped at the sight of him bending over Cordelia.
Using a hand to gently brush away long strands of chestnut hair, Angel softly called out her name to awaken her.
“Cordelia,” he repeated a little louder finally eliciting a response. “We’re back.”
She reached out to confirm his presence with the touch of her hand over his. A contented sigh sounded at the contact as Cordelia realized how relieved she was to be within reach of him. “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” Angel confirmed as his eyes swept over her tear-stained cheeks. The thumb of his other hand brushed along one striped trail to the point where it dropped off her jaw to the still damp spot where her shirt met her collarbone. He wanted to follow that same trail with his mouth, but stopped himself with more reminders that this girl barely knew him.
“We’re here,” Buffy corrected reminding him that she was also in the room.
Cordelia flinched almost imperceptibly at the sound of irritation in the blonde’s voice. “Hi, Buffy. You’re okay?”
“Yes.”
Pulling the hand cupping her face into her lap, Cordelia gave it a soft squeeze. “And you, Angel? You’re okay, too?”
“Not a scratch.”
“Good,” she smiled. “I guess I fell asleep in your bed.”
Angel curbed his tongue at the sudden urge to respond that she could sleep there anytime. “You should stay here tonight, Cordelia. This has been a stressful day, it’s late and there is still a long walk ahead of you.”
“Okay,” Cordelia was quick to reply.
Buffy was not so happy with the idea. Asking Angel, “Where will *you* sleep?”
“On the sofa.”
The Slayer could not deny that normally she wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to be in Cordelia’s place— minus the not being able to see—, but the truth was, “I don’t really know you that well, Angel. I’m supposed to leave Cordelia here? Giles would say that was highly inappropriate.”
Grmph! Cordelia didn’t really care what the old fuddy-duddy librarian would say about this. She wanted an opportunity to get to know Angel better and if Buffy dragged her away, that was unlikely to happen.
Buffy let out a big sigh. “I forget that other people get tired faster than I do.”
“Hey!” Cordelia sat up a little straighter. “This body is in top shape, detecto-girl.”
“I’m just saying that I agree with Angel,” Buffy put her hands on her slim hips. “Not that I wanna challenge you to a mud-wrestling contest.”
Angel suddenly found himself smiling at the image that popped into his head— until he felt a hand slap at his chest. Cordelia turned her head toward him, “Stop grinning like an idiot.”
“Can you see?”
“No. You’re a guy. I know what you’re thinking.” Cordelia felt certain she was right and rolled her eyes as if to say his thoughts would be obvious even to a blind girl.
“Going back to the point I was trying to make,” Buffy cleared her throat. “Cordelia, I can tell that this has been a hard day on you. Maybe it was dumb to drag you through the cemetery. It’s further away from home than I realized.”
Reluctantly, Cordelia suggested, “You could call your mom to pick us up.”
“Uh—,” Buffy realized that her mother would have to be told about Angel and how they came to end up at his otherwise abandoned apartment building. “Probably not a good idea, Cordelia. Maybe you should stay here tonight.”
“Okay.”
Sensing Buffy’s hesitance, Angel suggested, “If you are concerned why don’t you stay here, too? I’ll be out on the sofa.”
“Can’t. My mom would freak.”
Cordelia couldn’t believe that Buffy was giving up that easily. “Just tell her you’re staying at my house.”
“She’s never met you before,” Buffy pointed out.
Cordelia was agape. “Like that matters? What? Your mom needs to know my medical history and bank balance before allowing her daughter to grace my presence?”
“She’s overprotective.” Had been ever since Hemery where she burned down the gym. Not that Buffy could blame her for it. Joyce Summers did not know that she was the Slayer or anything about her mission here in Sunnydale.
Buffy wanted to keep it that way.
Buffy suddenly worried that Cordelia would let something slip to her mother about the reason for her blindness or the encounter in the graveyard tonight, even if the brunette had a totally clueless take on what really happened. Besides, she had no reason *not* to trust Angel. He’d been watching out for her, helping her with his cryptic messages.
“You know— maybe Cordelia should stay here,” Buffy suggested. “I’ll be at school in the morning and mom will be at work. What about you, Angel. Are you going to be home during the day?”
“Uh— yes.”
“So you’ll be okay, Cordelia?” Buffy wanted to make sure she wasn’t pushing the other girl into this just to keep Mom from finding out.
“Fine. You’ll call tomorrow, right? To let me know what happens with Amy?”
Nodding her head, Buffy asked Angel for his phone number. He had to admit, “I don’t have a phone.”
Cordelia wore a strange expression. “No phone or television— you are lacking essentials, Angel. How do you survive without a phone?”
“I haven’t been in town long,” Angel told her. “Just haven’t bothered to set it up.”
“Oh.” Cordelia knew she would go through withdrawal if her phone was taken away. “I’ll give you my cell number, Buffy. Use that.”
Buffy left soon after that still wondering if she was doing the right thing by leaving Cordelia Chase with this admittedly hot and helpful almost-stranger. He was supposed to be here to help. This was helping.
Wasn’t it? Still, Buffy felt a twinge of jealousy as she left the apartment despite her concerns.
“I better turn my phone on,” Cordelia told Angel after Buffy’s departure. “I turned it off because I knew Harmony and Aura would be calling about the accident in Driver’s Ed. Can you grab my phone from my purse?”
“You want me to open your purse?”
Laughing, Cordelia promised, “Nothing in there will bite.”
“Good,” Angel sounded doubtful. Opening the zipper, he fished around until he found her cell phone. Pulling it out he saw that there were a lot of buttons not only with numbers, but also symbols.
Putting the phone in her hand, Angel hoped she could figure out how to turn it on. Cordelia took two seconds to find the appropriate button. “I’ve used this thing in the dark so a little blindness isn’t gonna get in my way now.”
She leaned over and felt for the nightstand Angel had told her was there and placed the phone on the edge. Angel asked her, “Are you still tired? Do you want to go straight to sleep?”
“Actually, I’d like to put my stuff away and take a shower.” Cordelia felt him move off from the edge of the bed where he had been sitting since returning with Buffy. “Could you help me?”
Help you shower? The silent question popped into his head. Definitely. “With your stuff? Sure. You don’t have much with you. Come here to the dresser and choose the easiest drawer.”
Cordelia got out of bed and followed the edge around to the other side. “This way?”
“Turn left and go about four steps forward,” Angel instructed
Feeling in front of her, Cordelia had to take a fifth step before she came into contact with the wooden high-boy dresser. There was a ridge separating the second and third drawers. Pulling at the handles of the third drawer, she told Angel, “I’ll take this one.”
Angel quickly cleared out his neatly paired and folded socks moving them into another drawer. Then he helped her to take her things out of the gym bag and place them in the drawer. He latched on to the last piece of clothing in the bag and pulled out a nightgown of hot pink silk and matching lace.
“Is this what you’re wearing to bed?” There was a choking sound accompanying Angel’s question.
“What is it?” Cordelia asked, curious at what had brought on that reaction. “Buffy just grabbed stuff at random.”
“It’s a short pink thing— with lace.”
“Oh,” she knew the one. “I don’t suppose the matching robe is in there?”
Angel peered into the bag already knowing it to be empty. “No. I have an extra robe. You can use it.”
With a snort of laughter, Cordelia held out a hand for the nightdress. “If you’re concerned about drowning in your own drool, then let me borrow a t-shirt.”
“No, I can handle it as long as you wear the robe.” Angel figured having her dress in his clothes would be even worse.
Cordelia felt around in the drawer planning to grab a pair of clean underwear while Angel was distracted, but he was apparently following her actions. He snatched the panties out of her grasp and gave her a second pair. “Not those.”
“Why not?”
“The other ones were emerald green,” Angel explained. “These have little pink flowers that match your— uh, nightgown.”
Certain that she was turning red, Cordelia requested, “Can you take my other stuff into the bathroom? I need you to show me where everything is.”
Angel gathered her shampoo, conditioner, brush and comb, toothbrush and lotion into one armful, guiding her with the other into the adjoining bathroom. “Stand there for a second,” he instructed while putting everything in a location he thought she could find. Grabbing his extra robe from the hanger behind the door and some clean towels from the cupboard, he placed them on the towel rack just outside the shower.
Then stepping behind Cordelia, Angel led her around the bathroom to show her where everything had been placed. Cordelia never knew that a tour of a person’s bathroom could be so exciting. The feel of his tall frame leaning against her back as he moved her from place to place made her want to sink into him.
“So, a couple of steps from the door is the sink,” Angel moved her forward until her hips touched the edge of the counter. “Reach for the handles. Hot is on the left. Cold is on the right.”
“As usual.” Cordelia found the water faucets and gave them an experimental twist, turning them back off after she heard splashing water hit the ceramic bowl of the sink.
“Toothbrush is hanging on the wall holder to your left. Mine is there too. I put yours on the left.”
Cordelia repeated, “Toothbrush and toothbrush holder on the left. Got it.”
“Toothpaste on the counter just below.”
Angel continued with the orientation, showing her where her brush and comb had been placed. Then moving down the space beyond the sink. “Toilet ahead on the left.”
“That reminds me,” Cordelia interrupted. “You’re out of toilet paper.”
“Oh.” Angel hadn’t thought of that. “I’ll run out and get some later.”
Come to think of it, Cordelia would probably want food at some point and he had none of that in the apartment either. He had been so quick to suggest she stay with him that he had forgotten she might need some human necessities.
Moving forward again, “Three steps to the shower stall. Towels and robe on your right. Uh— give me your night things. I’ll hang them here too.”
She had bundled the panties and nightie into a ball and kept it in the crook of her arm, so he had to straighten things out in order to drape them over the towel bar. “Angel?”
“Yes?” He stared down at the beautiful face with its unfocused hazel eyes.
“You’re being so patient with me,” she smiled. “I just wanted to say thanks for putting up with me. I mean— it’s not like you had to help. Unless the Guardian Angel thing is some mandatory requirement for you night owl types.”
“Night owl?”
Cordelia shrugged. “Just figured. First off, you were roaming around the neighborhood cemetery. Not exactly Sunnydale Park if you know what I mean. Second, you suggested that you’d be home all day to take care of me.”
“I do prefer the nighttime,” Angel admitted. “Kind of allergic to sunlight.”
“Oh. I think I’ve heard of that,” Cordelia thought she had seen something on t.v. about it. “Photosensitivity?”
“Similar,” Angel figured he wouldn’t go into the details of bursting into flame. “Come here. Let me show you the shower.”
Cordelia held her breath as they stepped into the shower stall together. They were sandwiched up against each other and it was all too easy to think about being in there minus their clothes. She kept reminding herself that Angel was a virtual stranger, that these were dangerous thoughts, but she felt so safe in the circle of his arms and her whole body tingled at his closeness.
“Soap is here. I took out a new bar,” Angel lifted her hand to the soap holder. “Your shampoo and conditioner are straight ahead on the shower caddy. Yours is on the—”
“Left?” She guessed.
“Yeah. Just keeping things consistent,” Angel smiled into her hair as he leaned close to look at the two bottles. “You know which one is which?”
Feeling the containers of shampoo and conditioner, Cordelia correctly identified each one. As she put them back in place, Angel found himself reaching down to her waist to touch the hint of bare skin peaking from her midriff top.
She felt so good, her skin so smooth there. He imagined she would be smooth all over. Just touching her silken flesh, soaping her wet silken flesh with his hands. Cupping those tantalizing breasts and washing them until they were foamy with soapy bubbles. Then letting his hand wander down the flat surface of her belly to the curly forest at the apex of her thighs, his fingers brushing through it to find what secrets lay between. Touching her there, making her cry out his name with the pleasure she received. Feeling the wet curve of her lush bottom against his groin just as he positioned himself to take her.
With his eyes closed, Angel could picture it all. It was a fantasy he would give anything to make reality, but that was not going to happen. Cordelia was here for his protection, not to sate his lust. Forcing himself to pull away, Angel realized he needed to put some distance between them before Cordelia felt the proof of his lust— he was so hard and engorged it was close to being painful.
Sensing him move back, Cordelia turned around to face him. Angel couldn’t have gone far since the shower stall was small for two people. “Angel, this may be a strange place to ask, but suddenly I’m curious.”
“About what?” Angel managed not to groan aloud as she took a step toward him.
“What you look like.” Cordelia had been wondering about it, thinking at first that he had been one of the ugly guys from the Bronze. Now she wasn’t certain he was involved in the gang at all, just an acquaintance of Buffy’s through the school Crime Club. “What color is your hair?”
It had been a *long* time since Angel had thought about his coloring. He was always scrupulously aware of his clothes and hair, but having not seen himself in a mirror for nearly two and a quarter centuries he wasn’t certain how to describe it. “Brown.”
“Brown hair,” Cordelia nodded. “Eyes?”
“Brown.”
“Brown hair and eyes. Complexion?”
“Uh— pale. My family is Irish.”
“Also allergic to sunlight,” Cordelia remembered. “Can I touch you?”
“What?!” Angel’s thoughts immediately descended into his pants.
“Your face,” she clarified. “To see you Helen Keller style.”
“Oh, my face.” Angel cursed himself silently for letting his brain fall into the gutter. He wasn’t certain that letting her touch him anywhere was a good idea, but could not deny her anything she wanted. “Go ahead.”
Reaching up, Cordelia’s hand moved up uncertain of its destination until Angel lifted it higher pressing it to his face. She had to step a little closer to reach the top of his head where she felt the short spiky hairstyle. “You use mousse?”
“Uh— yeah.”
“You’re how tall?”
“Six-foot-two.”
Cordelia’s mouth quirked into a smile as she let her fingers wander over the angular features of his face. Feeling the shape of his nose, she moved outward to his cheekbones and then traced her fingers over the curves of his ears.
He let out a laugh, squirming a bit. “That tickles.”
“Sensitive ears?”
“Apparently so.”
Then her fingers moved down the curve of his jaw, meeting at his chin. She licked her lips in anticipation of touching his. Angel watched the sweep of her tongue over her lush mouth fighting the intense need to taste her, to cover her mouth with kisses until she was so out of breath that she saw stars. Then her thumbs softly touched the curve below his bottom lip moving along its sweeping length to the corners.
She repeated the action with his upper lip before both thumbs together pressed his lips closed in a mock kiss. He pursed his lips to caress the pads of her thumbs.
Cordelia’s hands dropped to his chest as a silent gasp left her throat. Had she imagined it? That soft kiss? Then her thoughts were diverted by the feel of a hard sculpted torso under the cloth of his shirt. My, but Angel was certainly well made. Her hands wandered over his chest and up to his broad shoulders.
Suddenly, Angel snatched her hands away holding her wrists to the side. He could read the arousal in her eyes and knew that he let this go on too long. “Do you know what you are doing to me, Cordelia? This needs to stop.”
His abrupt move jerked Cordelia up against him. Her full breasts were pressed hard into his chest, their pointed nipples aching at the contact. As her hips connected with his it became rather obvious exactly what she was doing to Angel. His large hands immediately fell to her hips holding her there for a moment as she instinctively wiggled against his tumescent arousal.
Setting Cordelia away from him, Angel turned and stepped out of the shower stall. She was looking embarrassed by what happened. In fact, Cordelia hurried to apologize, “I am really sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean to—”
“Turn me on?”
His voice was so husky that Cordelia’s insides curled with tingling pleasure at the sound. “I just wanted to feel— see you.”
“I know.”
“Maybe it was a mistake to convince Buffy to let you stay,” Angel admitted.
Cordelia did not want to admit that he was right. She was greedy and wanted to be around him. “You mean at the end of the day, when you hang up your Guardian Angel attire, you are really just a—”
Just a leering vampire with lustful intentions? Angel’s thoughts whizzed by in his head.
“— a normal guy?” Cordelia finished. “I shouldn’t have touched you. My bad.”
“Cordelia, you would tempt a saint,” Angel wanted to make certain she knew he was not rejecting her. “I’m no saint. Take your shower. I’ll be outside until I hear the water turn off and then I have to go out for a while.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“I’ll be back soon. There is an all-night supermarket nearby,” Angel explained. “We need a few things. I wasn’t as prepared for overnight guests as I thought.”
“Sorry to be a burden,” Cordelia now felt like she was intruding.
Angel cupped her face, his thumb roving over her cheek. “Don’t think that. If I didn’t want you here, I would have sent you away with the Slayer.”
“The who? You mean Buffy?”
“Uh— yeah. That’s her name in the Crime Club.” Angel hated lying to Cordelia, but he knew that Buffy’s status was supposed to be a secret.
“So, Mr. Giles is the Watcher and Buffy is the Slayer?” Cordelia thought she had it right. “What are Willow and Xander? Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum?”
“Erm! Secret identities. You have to be part of the club to know that.”
“Party pooper!” Cordelia was smiling again flashing him her megawatt grin. “So who are you, the Dark Avenger?”
“Guardian Angel, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waved a hand at him shooing him out of the bathroom. “So go guard the door from the other side. I’ll see— talk to you later.”