Blinded with Love. 3

After combing out her long hair, Cordelia turned to open the door finally locating the doorknob after a couple of attempts. She picked up her clothes from the pile she had made right beside the door in order to easily find them again and moved out into the bedroom.

Normally, she just dumped her clothes on the floor until Rosaria came and got them for the laundry. That wouldn’t be right here in Angel’s apartment.

She felt her way across the room to the chair that sat next to the chest of drawers. Putting her shoes on the floor under the chair, she left the rest of her clothes in a neat pile. It took some time to accomplish the task, but Cordelia felt good about her efforts not to mess up Angel’s bedroom.

Cordelia sat down on the bed for a few minutes, crunching her bare toes into the carpet. It was extremely boring waiting for Angel to return. She didn’t want to call any of her friends because they would demand to know what happened at school.

So no phone. There was no television. Angel said nothing about owning a radio, but since it did not seem to be here in the bedroom it was possible he had a stereo in the living room.

Not that she was supposed to go there. She was supposed to stay here in the bedroom where things were less cluttered. The kitchen was out there too. Surely Angel had not intended to let her die of thirst or drink bathroom water.

Resolving to try to find the radio and the kitchen, Cordelia made her way around the perimeter of the bedroom until she found the door.

“Okay, Cordy. Which way?”

She found bookshelves full of books, many of them with old fabric covers and a slightly musty smell. Angel collected old books— huh! He hadn’t seemed like a fuddy-duddy like Mr. Giles. Exactly how old was he? Angel certainly *felt* like a hottie, but that did not mean he was anywhere near her age. She had assumed he came here to attend Sunnydale University.

“I’ll have to ask. If that doesn’t count as prying.” Cordelia cautioned herself. “Not that I pry.”

After a few minutes of searching, she finally located a stereo system. There were lots of knobs and buttons, but Cordelia took an educated guess and pressed the one on the top left of the machine. Classical music began to pour forth from the speakers filling the room with instrumental sounds.

“Not my favorite,” Cordelia sighed, “but it’ll do.”

She did not want to press too many buttons and not be able to turn it off again. “Now for that drink. I need water or orange juice. Something!”

Cordelia had no idea what Angel liked to keep in his refrigerator, but she was so thirsty it didn’t really matter. Cutting down the middle of the room, she felt her way across the front of the living room couch figuring that the kitchen was probably on the other side.

Just as she reached the end of the couch, her hand connected with something on the end table.

It crashed to the floor and shattered into pieces. “Oh, no!”

Moving onto her knees, Cordelia tried to find the broken pieces and place them in a pile, trying at the same time to figure out what she had broken. They were rough and heavy in some places like stone and smooth and metallic in others.

Just as she was reaching across the carpet for another piece, her hand slipped across part of the object slicing it open.


Angel returned to the apartment ten minutes later to the sound of music and the scent of blood in the air. He opened the door, dropping the grocery bags to the ground as he caught sight of Cordelia. She was kneeling on the carpet surrounded by the broken remains of his Chinese sculpture which he had acquired during the Boxer’s Rebellion.

The belt of his white robe was wrapped around her wrist in a knot tying off the flow of blood.

“Cordelia!” He was at her side in a second sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. She opened her eyes to look at him, close to fainting from the sensation of pain and sudden blood loss. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“S-Sorry.” Her voice sounded weak. “Hope it wasn’t something expensive.”

A priceless and irreplaceable sculpture? “It was nothing. Just lay back. I need to look at your wrist.”

He released the knot on the belt at her wrist. The cut wasn’t so deep, but it kept oozing fresh blood with each pulse of her heart despite her impromptu pressure dressing. Angel figured he could try to get her to the hospital, but it was not close and finding a cab would take time. Too much time. There was only one option.

“Do you trust me, Cordelia?” Angel touched her face pleading for a positive answer.

“Yes,” she whispered still a little fuzzy.

Angel only hoped that he could do this. “I can help you if you let me. If you trust that I’m keeping you safe.”


“Just relax,” Angel’s voice softened. “I promise I’ll explain later.”

As her head was quite dizzy, Cordelia merely answered, “Okay.”

Cordelia barely registered the fact that Angel’s mouth closed over her slender wrist, his tongue sweeping across the bleeding wound. Actually, it felt kinda good.

Carefully, Angel lapped at the oozing cut cleaning it out until her blood ran free. The taste of her made him pause long enough to gain control of himself. He was close to vamping out. He wasn’t doing this to endanger her, but the sweet human blood in his mouth made it difficult not to want more.

Vampire saliva had dual properties that could either thin clotting blood or hasten healing. It made blood flow free when the demon wanted to drain its victim. Alternatively, it also aided closure of the wounds if the intent was merely to snack now and leave more for later. Now, Angel used those healing properties to clean and close the bleeding wound on Cordelia’s wrist.

He continued his ministrations until the wound appeared to be closed. Looking up, he saw that Cordelia was unconscious. Angel lifted her wrist to his mouth, pressing a wet kiss upon it and breathing in their combined scent. Moving off the bed, he maneuvered her out of the bloody robe tossing it onto the ground so that he could arrange Cordelia more comfortably on the bed.

Angel was about to pull the coverlet over her when he realized he was seeing her in her pink nightgown. Not much of a gown coming only to the tops of her thighs. A hint of the flowered panties peeked out from below where her leg was bent. The lacy part of the spaghetti-strapped nightie molded itself to her breasts hinting at the darker areolas and nipples that even in her unconscious state seemed to beg for his mouth.

Reaching out, Angel clasped her left knee which was bent upward. His hand slipped up to her supple thigh and back again to move the leg into a flat position. Then he grabbed for the covers before the sight of Cordelia tempted him into any other deplorable behaviors that took advantage of her vulnerability.

Just one more, perhaps. Tucking her in, Angel bent forward to press a kiss across her lips before moving away to deal with the groceries and the broken sculpture. He reentered the bedroom, took a quick glance at Cordelia’s wrist to ensure the wound was still closed and then went into the bathroom to shower.

Dressed in clean boxers and his dark navy robe, Angel walked back into the bedroom moving her clothes out of the chair and sat back with his eyes focused on the young woman in his bed.

Whispering, “Sleep tight, Cordelia. I’ll watch over you.”


Sometime before dawn, Angel sensed a shift in Cordelia’s breathing. She was awake. He did not want to startled her so remained silent. Sitting up on the bed, Cordelia felt the smooth skin of her previously injured wrist. There was no sign of a scab that she could detect. Maybe she had imagined that part.

Sitting there in the dark for some time, thinking about what had happened, Cordelia could not remember much except injuring herself and Angel asking her to trust him. What had happened? Strangely enough, Cordelia could feel his presence. It seemed like he was so close. Maybe that was wishful thinking. With a slight frown, she moved her hand along the surface of the mattress half expecting to find him stretched out next to her.

The other half of the bed was empty. She let out a little sigh, pulling her knees up to wrap her arms around them and the covers. Cordelia rested her head on her knees, staring into the utter darkness that blinded her. She had a peculiar feeling that she was not alone.

“Angel? Are you here?”

“Yes,” he told her. “I’m in the chair.”

“Why are you way over there?”

Angel wondered how he was supposed to take that question. “I wanted to make certain that you were okay. No more bleeding.”

When Cordelia attempted to apologize again for breaking his sculpture, Angel repeated what she had obviously forgotten. “It was nothing. It doesn’t matter as long as you’re okay.”

“How can you tell from way over there?” Cordelia asked. “Are the lights on?”

“No, I turned them off.”

“Aren’t you planning to sleep tonight?”

“I should be out on the sofa,” Angel glanced toward the door with a frown, “but I’m not leaving you tonight. If that wound opens up, I’ll have to take care of it again.”

Cordelia touched her wrist again. “I don’t feel anything. It barely even hurts.”

“Magic touch.”

“Yeah? That’s fairly cryptic. I’ve had enough magic to last a lifetime, thank you very much,” Cordelia referred to the spell causing her blindness. The thought of it scared her. “What if this is permanent, Angel? What if I never see again?”

Instantly, he was out of the chair and on the bed at her side pulling her into his embrace. Cordelia hugged him close turning her cheek to rest upon his strong shoulder. Angel’s hands were cool against the bare flesh of her upper back as they moved up and down along her spine soothing her.

“I can’t predict the future, baby,” Angel told her. “I wish I could fix this for you, but I’m afraid it’s too late for me to venture out. If Buffy can’t find your cure tomorrow, then I will.”

Cordelia shuddered against him at the vehemence in his voice. Amy Madison beware. “I don’t want anyone else hurt,” she pointed out hoping that Angel wasn’t planning to do anything that would get him into trouble.

“The little witch either removes the spell or she’ll have to deal with a side of me that I’m sure she doesn’t want to meet,” Angel vowed.

So the big macho lug thought she wanted him to defend her against the witchy forces of darkness? Cordelia found herself smiling in spite of her own independent nature. Okay.

Angel started to pull back, but Cordelia held onto his arms. “Don’t go!”

“I’d better go back to the chair.”

“No. I want you here,” Cordelia pouted. “Stay and talk to me.”

“I can talk from the chair,” he pointed out.

“Stay with me. You said you’re not going to sleep and I’m awake now.” Cordelia flopped back on the pillow and rolled to her side. Tugging at the edge of the covers, she told him, “Get in. It’s not like I can see anything.”

That’s a good thing, Angel thought glancing down below the elastic waistband of his boxers. Go away, he willed his erection. Just go away.

“I can see,” Angel countered her argument.

Cordelia huffed. “You’ve been watching me all night. What does it matter now?”

“Good point,” Angel gave in to what he wanted to do by discarding his robe and crawling under the covers beside her.

Angel kept her distracted from conversation that was too personal in nature by discussing some of his travels. With her parents, Cordelia had been to a few of the same places. In different eras of course, but Angel kept a focus on the things he knew would be the same. They talked for over an hour before Cordelia started to yawn again.


“Hmm!” Cordelia confirmed, her eyelids drooping shut.

He raked his fingers through her silken chestnut hair trailing down to grab the edge of the comforter. Angel pulled it back up around her shoulders. “Get some more sleep. I’ll go back to the chair.”

Cordelia mumbled a protest. “Stay.”

So he did, but it was a long time before sleep came for Angel. His thoughts were too deep and too troubled to find sleep easily. As he listened to the soft sound of her breathing, he knew that he had never wanted a woman more than he wanted Cordelia Chase.

It was impossible of course. She had no clue what he really was— a vampire with a soul. Even Buffy did not know the truth and it was for her that Angel had been sent to Sunnydale.


The sun was already high in the sky when Cordelia awakened though the room was dim since it had no curtains. Before opening her eyes, Cordelia realized that during the night she had somehow migrated into Angel’s embrace.

They were tangled together on the bed, her head resting on his shoulder, his arms curling around her possessively, one large hand tucked into the waistband of her panties and resting at the top curve of her buttocks, and their legs entwined.

As her eyes flashed open with surprise, Cordelia realized that she could see. Then she let out a soft gasp as she saw Angel. He was so handsome. His name suited him perfectly, because he had the face of an angel. Geez, what a hottie! To think she had been worried that he might look like one of those creeps from the Bronze.

She couldn’t help but reach out to touch his chest, but it was then that she noticed that Angel was not breathing. Omigod! CPR— how does that go again?

Launching herself out of their tangled embrace, Cordelia initiated the first steps to CPR by pinching his nose and blowing a breath into his mouth. There was no rise and fall of his chest, so she tried to reposition his head.

Suddenly, Angel awakened and moved Cordelia’s hands away from his face. “What are you doing?”

As he sat up, Cordelia felt tears well in her eyes. Throwing her arms around his shoulders and hugging him tight, she cried out, “You’re alive. Omigod, Angel. I thought you were dead.”

Pulling her back so he could look at her face, Angel realized that she woke to find him not breathing. Normal for a vampire. Not so normal for a human. He felt that the time to tell her the truth was fast approaching.

Before he could speak, Cordelia grabbed his face and pressed her mouth to his, kissing Angel voraciously as if to prove to herself that he was not a corpse. As her plush lips covered his, Angel could only respond with equal veracity. He wanted her kisses and he was not about to stop anything she initiated of her own free will.

Well maybe not anything, Angel thought as she climbed up onto his lap to get closer to his kiss. The lace covering her breasts rasped across his bare chest eliciting a moan from his throat that echoed into Cordelia’s mouth. She pulled up for air gazing down at him with a sparkle of intense desire in her hazel eyes as her hips settled down over his thighs covering the bulge in his boxers.

The contact made them both groan. Angel was trying to maintain control, but he found that the wriggling feminine hips were driving him insane. “I want you so much, Cordelia. You are so beautiful, so sexy and so alive. You have no idea what a temptation you are.”

“And you’re no saint,” Cordelia grinned down at him gazing directly into his eyes.

Then it finally dawned on Angel. “You can see.”

“I spy with my little eyes something that is brown.” She leaned in to kiss one of his eyebrows.

With her arms around his shoulders, Cordelia held the back of his head with her hands and turned her own to run her tongue along the outer shell of his ear remembering that it was a sensitive spot. Angel shuddered in pleasure, grasping her hips and rolling his own beneath her.

Cordelia’s head lolled back at the incredible sensation and found Angel instantly pressing wet kisses along her throat. His hands moved up to cup her lace covered breasts palming them so the nipples pressed into his hands. Then he moved up holding her head in place as he continued to taste the skin of her throat while their hips moved into a slow grinding rhythm below.

The scent of her, the memory of her blood on his tongue, it was so hard to resist taking what he wanted. Just a bite. Just a few sips of the precious ambrosia that was Cordelia’s lifeblood.

“Stop! That’s enough, Cordelia,” he dropped his hands from her head to still her hips. “I shouldn’t be doing this. You don’t know me.”

“Yes, I do,” Cordelia had her hands on his chest. “It doesn’t take forever to know people. Sometimes it happens right away.”

Despite the fact that Angel knew he should move her away from him, he kept her there on his lap. Somewhat harshly, he asked, “What are you saying? That you woke up and experienced love at first sight?”

“N-No.” Cordelia wasn’t certain that it was love. Though, it kinda felt that way. “It’s what you said, Angel. I want you. I trust you. You are so beautiful, so sexy and I can’t stop myself from touching you.”

What the hell had he done to deserve her? Left her alone in the cemetery and immediately she was attacked. Left her alone in the apartment and she cut herself. Lapped up her blood just because he couldn’t resist a taste even though there might be another way to stop the bleeding. Climbed into bed with her because a she said so while half-asleep.

He made one final half-hearted try to convince Cordelia that this was wrong. “You are here under my protection. You have just recovered from a spell that left you blind. You were injured, lost blood and were unconscious for a minute last night.”

“I feel fine,” Cordelia ran her hands across his chest then added, “and so do you.”

“There are things about me that you don’t know.”

“Can’t you tell me later?”

“That would certainly get me what I want right now,” Angel admitted, “but I don’t want to deal with the anguish that will follow afterward. There was a time in my life that I would take what you’re offering without hesitation, Cordelia. I’m not that person. I do not want to take advantage of you.”

“So tell me now,” Cordelia pleaded. “What is so important?”

Angel took a deep breath despite the fact that he did not need it. Somehow it reassured him that he was doing the right thing. Reminded him of a time when breathing was necessary and how his life might have been different if he hadn’t let himself be led around by urge to bed everything in a skirt.

“How long have you lived in Sunnydale?”

“All my life,” Cordelia answered.

“Have you never wondered at the strange activities in this town? Never seen things that you cannot rationally explain? Never noticed that Sunnydale has a dark side?”

“No.” Cordelia frowned at his questions. “There are weird things all of the time, but nothing that can’t be explained. I’m sure every town has its dark side.”

“Not like this one,” Angel told her. “I don’t want to scare you Cordelia, but I am a part of that darkness.”

Oh. So maybe he was the gang leader, Cordelia mused. She could deal with that. “So?”

“Don’t be flippant. I came to Sunnydale because of Buffy Summers— the Slayer.”

“You came here for her?”

“To watch over her, Cordelia,” he corrected. “She is not just a normal teenager.”

“Duh! Everyone knows Little Miss Crime Club is into weirdness,” Cordelia pointed out. That was no surprise.

Angel realized this conversation was not going well. “Baby, please listen to me.”

Baby? Cordelia wetted her lips as she stared at his mouth. Geez, he made her want to kiss him all over.

“You will find this unbelievable, but Buffy was born to be a vampire slayer. To stop the spread of darkness. Her mission here in Sunnydale is to guard the Hellmouth, which is an opening into the nether-realms and home to chaos itself.”


Angel held her hands to his chest. “There is more. Not just about Buffy, but me.”

“So are you a slayer too?”

“No, Cordelia,” Angel decided he needed to be frank. “I am a vampire.”

Cordelia was motionless for a second before she started to get angry. Then she started to wriggle trying to wrest her hands lose so she could get off his lap. “I can’t believe that you are telling me this. What a load of bull! If you didn’t want me, Angel, just say so.”

“I do want you,” Angel told her. “That’s the problem. I want to feel you from the inside as you clamp down around me. I want to taste your orgasm on my tongue. I want your blood in my mouth again.”

“Eew!” That would be really gross if it didn’t also leave her tingling all over. “So you say you’re a vampire? Prove it.”

“Will you trust me, Cordelia?” He asked her with a softer tone. “One last time. Trust me to keep you safe?”

She saw the truth in his eyes. Whispering her response, “Yes.”

“Close your eyes and keep them closed. I want you to touch me like you did last night in the shower. Just start with my chest and work your way up.”

“Okay, but—”

“Just close your eyes,” Angel instructed, “and remember that I would never hurt you.”

The moment she did, he slipped into game face and released her hands. Cordelia sat still wondering what this exercise was all about. What would be different in the way he felt now versus last night? Different than what she saw this morning?

The first thing she noticed was the stillness of his chest, the same thing that had caused her to start CPR. It seemed he could hold his breath for a long time. Then her fingers crept up to his neck and around the back of his head brushing her fingers through his bed-tossed spiky hair. Cordelia’s hands moved forward covering Angel’s ears noting nothing different that her tongue had not earlier explored.

Cordelia hesitated there for a moment forcing herself to keep her eyes closed. Why was she suddenly nervous? He was doing this to prove a point. What was the point? That she was an idiot for letting him spin this story or that he was really a vampire?

Angel felt her hands tremble as she moved them again, this time to brush her thumbs across his cheekbones. Though Cordelia’s eyes remained closed, her eyebrows darted up in surprise as she found the hard ridge of bone curved up from his cheek to his brow. She followed the curvature with her fingers across the slope of his forehead meeting at the indentations above his nose.

Her heart thudded in her chest, Angel noted. She was scared, but kept her eyes closed. Now her thumbs were following the outline of his nose down to the corner of his mouth. She touched the lower curve of his lip and then the upper noting a difference in the shape of his mouth. Pressing her thumbs down on his lips, Cordelia felt his purse into a kiss against her thumbpads.

“Can I look?” Cordelia dropped her hands to her thighs. She felt kind of numb. Angel was obviously telling her the truth. She should probably be screaming, but found that she couldn’t. Not when this was Angel.

“Open your eyes.”

“A vampire.” She gave a little gulp as she looked into his golden gaze. “I guess seeing is believing after all.”


Nodding, Cordelia admitted the truth. “Just a little. Maybe more than a little. Angel, are you telling me that there are more vampires in Sunnydale? That Buffy Summers is here to kill your kind and that by some weird twist you have been called up to be her Guardian Angel?”

“Yes. Only, she doesn’t know that I’m a vampire.”

“Good. Don’t tell,” Cordelia suggested. “She’ll be less likely to kill you— supposed to be her job, right?”

It was a good sign that Cordelia wasn’t screaming, Angel figured. “Right, but I’ll tell her when the time comes.”

“Are the stories about vampires true? Is that why you’re allergic to sunlight?”

“Some of them are true,” Angel admitted. “Many of them are simply stories.”

Hesitantly, Cordelia lifted her hands to curl around his biceps. “What does this mean, Angel. I mean for us?”

Shifting back to his human face, Angel asked, “Is there an *us*?”


A sudden pounding on the apartment door startled them both. Shifting Cordelia off of his lap, Angel turned his attention to the front room. “It’s Buffy.”

“You can tell?”

“Vampire senses,” he explained while picking up his robe. “You better get dressed.”

Grabbing a pillow from the bed, he brought it with him tossing it on the couch as he went to answer the door. He heard the bathroom door shut behind him even as more knocking came from the front door. Unlocking the bolts, Angel then turned the knob to admit the blonde Slayer whose eyes darted around the apartment obviously searching for Cordelia.

“Angel, hi!” Buffy caught a glimpse of his bare chest as he tied the knot on his robe. “Is Cordelia ready to go?”

Trying not to sound irritated at her unexpected and untimely appearance, he commented, “I thought you were going to call.”

“Well, I figured with the spell being broken that was enough of a message,” Buffy looked confused at the gruff sound to his voice. “Wait until you two hear what happened to me at Amy’s house and at school today.”

Cordelia appeared suddenly at the bedroom doorway looking slightly tumbled as if she had not yet brushed her hair nor bothered to put her clothes on straight. Buffy frowned at the sight having never seen the brunette looking less than picture-perfect. Her gym bag was slung over her shoulder.

“Where have you been, Buffy? Angel and I figured you’d call first. I’ve just been waiting for ages.” She tagged on a brilliant smile and crossed the room to put the bag down on the kitchen table. “Geez! I’m really thirsty.”

She started looking through cabinets finding most empty until Angel pointed her in the right direction. “Oh, yeah.”

Taking one down, she stepped over to the refrigerator and asked Buffy, “Hey, do you want some—”

Blood? There were bags of blood on the top shelf. Right next to the—

“— orange juice?”

Grabbing the juice, Cordelia slammed the refrigerator door drawing a strange look from Buffy who declined the offer. When her hands started shaking, Cordelia had to put the juice carton back on the countertop. Angel noticed, coming over to pour her a glass.

“Just drink it slowly,” he told her. “Your blood sugar is probably low.”

“You can tell?”

Angel reminded her, “You never ate dinner last night and haven’t had anything today, either.”

“Oh. I thought—”

“Drink your juice.”

Buffy talked to them about her encounter with Amy and the real witch who had caused Cordelia’s blindness— Amy’s mother Catherine Madison. As she prattled on about the horrors of the day and how it took Giles to rescue her from Catherine’s spell before Buffy could defeat her, the blonde never noticed the way Angel and Cordelia kept staring at each other.

“Finished with the juice?” Buffy asked. “Cause I figure we can get you back to your house before school lets out for the day. You wouldn’t want anyone seeing you like that.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Buffy pulled her toward the door grabbing her gym bag along the way. “Bye, Angel. See you the next time you have bad news or feel like babysitting.”

Cordelia could only glance over her shoulder as Buffy pulled her away. She met his gaze and shifted it back toward the bedroom hoping that he would get the message.

Angel felt like ripping Cordelia out of Buffy’s hands and pulling her back to the bedroom where she belonged. But he didn’t really know if she felt that way. She hadn’t proclaimed him to be a vampire while Buffy was present.

Damn the Slayer’s bad timing. Unless it was really the Slayer’s *good* timing and her instincts told her to show up just at that moment.

Turning back to the bedroom, Angel felt like crawling back into bed and smothering himself in the scent of Cordelia that was certain to be on the sheets. He stopped just in front of the bed as he saw the object in the center of the bed. It was Cordelia’s cell phone.


A week later, Cordelia was at the Bronze with her Cordettes. They were standing in the corner by the bathroom waiting for the line to clear in order to check their makeup and hair. Then Harmony pointed over Cordelia’s shoulder. “What a hottie. Pick up the phone and dial 911.”

Cordelia turned on her heels to see Angel entering the Bronze and scanning the room. He was focused on Buffy, she noted as the vampire stepped past their group. Trying to catch his attention she called out, “Hello, Salty Goodness.”

Angel stopped in his tracks. What was that? Something about salty goodness? Whatever she meant, he recognized the voice. “Cordelia.”

“You didn’t call me,” she flashed a dark look in his direction placing her hands on her hips. Angel simply stared at the way she filled out her stunning red dress. “I left you my cell phone for a reason.”

“I don’t know how to use it,” Angel admitted sheepishly.

Agape, Cordelia found herself laughing. “Is that why you didn’t answer when I called you?”


Stepping up to him, she curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “I can’t believe that you made me think you didn’t want to talk to me.”

Then adding, “You do want to talk to me, don’t you?”

“I think you know what I want.”

“Oh.” She stared up into his eyes as her hands moved around his waist. “Is it possible, Angel. I mean— the two of us?”

“Is there an *us*?”

Cordelia told him, “That’s what I want.”

“Then anything is possible, baby, because I’ll always give you what you want.”

Oblivious of anything else, Angel and Cordelia stared into each other’s eyes and then leaned in for a kiss that seemed to have no end.

From across the room Buffy turned to her date, Owen Thurman. She pointed out the kissing couple. “See that? I introduced those two a week ago. Now they’re all over each other.”

Near the door, another group of onlookers gaped in awe at their leader. Aura was amazed at the quick work. “I am so worshipping Cordelia right now. What is her secret? Hottie magnetism?”

Harmony was pouting in the corner. “It’s not fair. I saw him first.”

The End


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