Chapter 3
Wesley straightened his collar while looking in the mirror. “You know, there’s a certain…mystique about the priesthood. A panache, if you will. I think I could have suited this collar well, had that been the path I chose.”
He chuckled. “Except for that bothersome celibacy requirement.”
Gunn sat, watching him, bored. “And, how exactly would that be different from your life now?” Wesley glared at him in the mirror just as Angel rose, impatient, and walked to the bathroom door.
“Cordelia?” He knocked on the door. “You have to come out sometime.”
“No I don’t.” Her voice was calm with a stubborn thread to it that Angel had heard many times before. He leaned in towards the door and jiggled the handle warningly.
“You know I can break this lock.”
“I know you won’t.”
He lowered his head and softly thumped it against the door. “C’mon, Cordy. We’re not going to laugh.”
“Speak for yourself.” He turned to glare at Gunn before turning back to the door.
“Cordy. You know this is necessary. I know you don’t like it. Hell, I don’t like it. But this is what we have to do to help those women.” He paused.
“Those sweet, kind, helpless…” the door jerked open and he stopped, looking down into Cordelia’s face. Her face framed by the white and black cloth of the wimple that sat crookedly on her head.
“That is so low. That is….what?”
Angel stared down at her, nearly speechless. It was as if all his terrifying nightmares and his best dreams had come true in one fell swoop. Cordelia Chase, glaring up at him while wearing a nun’s habit.
He felt something fleeting, a primal bloodlust, shoot through him like a speeding bullet. He tampered it down with the ease of long years of practice, but an unsatisfied shimmer niggled at his conscience.
“Is it that bad?” Cordelia looked up at Angel, then down at her body draped in yards of black. “I mean, I know it’s silly, but do I even look kinda…”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, hearing the hoarseness as he answered. “I mean, yes, you look fine. Doesn’t she look fine?” He turned desperately to Gunn and Wes, wanting to pull someone, anyone else into the conversation.
Wes smiled as he stepped forward. “Why yes, Cordelia, you look…..lovely. Quite beautiful. Possibly the prettiest nun that has ever donned the habit.”
Cordelia gave Wesley a look as she crossed to her desk and began rummaging through a drawer. “Thanks, Wes, and also, ewwww.”
Wes looked offended and turned to the mirror to glare at her reflection as he continued to fuss with his collar. Gunn grinned and stood up, hands in his pockets.
“Damn, Barbie. Gotta hang with English, here. More hot nuns like you out there, a lot more fillin’ the pews come Sunday.”
“Ok, we’re going to have to put an ixnay on using the words “hot” and “nun” in the same sentence, guys. I’m already waiting for lightening to strike me; don’t set yourselves up to get hit, too.” Cordelia finally straightened up and slammed the drawer shut. “I give up. I can’t find my favorite lipstick anywhere.”
“Cordelia. Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem hangin’ out with the sisters. Don’t think Max Factor does a lot of business with the gals there.” Gunn grinned up at her. “No makeup, hon. How will you get by?”
Cordelia grinned at Gunn as Wesley spoke up.
“Enough of that. We need to work on our plan.” Gunn nodded and handed them each their cell phones.
“Made sure these were charged. Doesn’t seem like the good sisters have too much in the way of modern communication, so wanted to make sure these were primed. The rectory, where Wes will be staying, is in the back of the grounds. Pretty easy for me and Angel to slip in tonight after dark.”
Angel, who had remained silent while trying to not stare at Cordy, spoke up. “Cordy, we kinda came up with a reason for Wes to look for you….to need you in his office. You’re going to be his general secretary. It won’t seem odd for him to escort you back to your quarters at night, or for him to call you for assistance.” Cordy nodded, her expression resigned.
“A whole ‘nother freakin’ occupation, and I’m still a secretary.” Cordelia sighed. “There is no justice.”
“Yes. Well, it is a way for us to be seen talking and not be suspicious.” Wesley looked at Cordy. “Besides, you don’t really have to do any actual filing, typing, or answering of the phone, so it won’t be too different from your work here.”
Cordelia made a face at him and he grinned before leaning down to pick up his duffle bag. “OK. I’m going to pull the car around, Cordelia. Meet you out front.”
“Hey, wait up. I wanna get straight with you on me and Angel…..” Gunn’s voice faded away as he trotted to keep up with Wesley and they disappeared out the front door. Cordy watched them and took a deep breath before turning to face Angel.
He sat, comfortably slouched against her desk, hands in pockets. An oppressive silence settled between them before she finally looked away.
“Well. Any last minute words of wisdom?”
“Keep to the other nuns or Wesley. Don’t go anywhere alone.” Angel seemed to bite the words out.
“What is your deal? I thought this is what you wanted….”
“No, it’s what works. It’s what we have to do. You’re the gal here…you get the nun gig. I just…I don’t like the idea of you being right by the danger, and me not right by you.”
Cordelia was touched. “Angel, you will be right there, I know it. You’ll be a cry for help away, and I’m good with that. And hey, since when have I been all brave and fearless?”
“I don’t know, but you are, suddenly. You don’t know much about what really goes on, but you know enough to be scary.”
Cordy grinned at him. “Sure it’s not just the hot dress and the whole Bride of Christ thing that has your pants all twisted?”
Angel didn’t even smile back. “No. They’re not…twisted.” He shifted a bit uncomfortably.
“Oh, c’mon. You’ve had a wicked wedgie ever since two nights ago when I first had the vision. This whole convent-church-catholic-cross thing. What is that about?” Angel looked down, silent. “You’ve always kinda joked about the nuns and the convents…what is that?”
He looked up at her. “That, Sister…” His eyebrows rose.
“Mathilda.” Cordy’s chin shot up. “Mathilda is the Patron Saint of Queens. I thought it was appropriate.
Angel smiled slightly. “Sister Mathilda. That conversation is for another night. When all this is done….” She looked at him expectantly. “I probably still won’t tell you. But I might.” She kept staring at him, her expression not changing.
He rose and put his hand on her back to guide her to the doorway, pausing to pick up her bag. He winced a bit. “Um, Cordy, what are you bringing?”
“Stuff. You know. Blowdryer. Face Cream. PJams. I had to get new ones, ya know. Granny jams. And Granny underwear. Because I don’t think my stuff would go over big with the Sisters….” And Angel’s mind raced to places he had successfully avoided before….to places where Cordy slowly stripped off the habit to reveal her latest Victoria’s Secret purchase.
And even he knew that was just wrong. He was jolted back to the present with Cordy grabbing the bag from his hand. “….and a couple of books and one of those itty bitty book lights. That’s all. Not like they’re gonna have a tv or anything…oh….ask Lorne to tape Survivor for me, ‘k?”
Angel looked around as she hustled to Wes’ car, throwing her bag in the back seat before climbing in beside Wes in the front seat. Angel leaned down to Wes. His voice was low, almost a whisper. “Keep your eyes on her. Don’t let her be alone.” Wes looked up and nodded imperceptibly.
“All right then. Gunn. I’ll have the gate at the back open for you and Angel tonight. I’ll give you a call and let you know the schedule so you’ll know when is best.” Wesley grinned. “Bless you both. See, I’d be good….” Cordelia rolled her eyes and they pulled off from the curb, leaving Gunn and Angel watching as they drove off. Gunn’s voice was thoughtful.
“Don’t care if lightning strikes me or not. You put a nun like Cordy up at mass every Sunday, pew’s be filled.” He grinned. “Sister Cordy.”
“Sister Mathilda” Angel’s correction was said in a low voice as he watched them disappear down the street.
***
“Sister Mathilda.” Sister Bert sat behind her desk, her hands folded across the neat white blotter. “Interesting choice.” Cordy grinned at her.
“Um….family name?” Sister Bert didn’t move a facial muscle. “OK. I liked the whole Queen thing.” Cordelia nodded. “I admit it. Looked up names online, and found a Saint’s page, and there it was. It was fate.”
“Well, then. I’ve arranged for your room to be at the end of the hall; just around the corner is the exit to the gardens and the walkway to the rectory. It should be easier for you to come and go. No one else knows of the reason for your presence. I felt in this case, a small lie would be understood. Mr. Wyndam-Price and I have set up a situation where you are on call to assist him in secretarial duties. But dear…”
Sister Bert walked past Cordelia and paused at the office door. “I have allowed that it will be suspicious if you do not have other duties in addition to those, so I have taken the liberty of placing you in the choir…”
“Oh, Sister Bert…” Cordelia gave a small laugh. “You put me up there to sing, people will take money out of the plate. Really. This isn’t a good…”
“Nonsense. Everyone has a song to sing, Cordelia…er….Sister Mathilda. The beauty of the voice is in the beholder who hears it.”
“Well, alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And she followed Sister Bert down the old Spanish-style walls to the choir room.
***
Fifteen minutes later, Cordelia sat again across from Sister Bert who sighed and pulled out a clipboard to look over the schedule. Cordelia sat, resigned, and kept her hands folded in her lap. Her ears still rang from the mumblings of anger from the Choir Mistress.
“Notice I’m not saying I told you so.” Cordelia broke the silence.
“Yes. Your restraint in not bringing it up at all is admirable.” Sister Bert spoke without looking up.
“Alright. Sister Luisa was an assistant to the cook. You should serve in that capacity well; you will only be needed for an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening. You will be done with your duties by 7:00, leaving you plenty of time for your…investigations.”
“Um…I’m really not much of a cook….”
“Cordelia. All that is required is a steady mind and willing hands. Trust me. You might find that you enjoy it.”
***
Later that evening, Sister Bert left the kitchens after dinner and sighed, Cordelia trailing along behind her. They walked out into the dimming light of dusk, and sat silently on a stone bench that faced a quietly gurgling fountain.
Sister Bert was silent for a moment, staring into the cascading droplets of water. Cordelia finally spoke. “Again, faced with the need to say…”
“Yes, you did.” Sister Bert’s voice was amused. “You did indeed tell me so. I begin to wonder if you’re here to help us…or if you’re here for us to help you.”
Cordelia leaned back, stretching her legs. “I can do stuff. I really can. Just, not…you know…nun stuff.”
“Child, cooking is not nun stuff. That is pure survival.”
“I’ve managed.” Cordy grinned. “So, where does that leave me?” Sister Bert looked at her a long moment and swept her hand around.
“Sister Mathilda, I believe you have the option of laundry service, or gardenwork.”
Cordy groaned. “I’ll take the gardens. That, I think I can do. Kinda.”
Sister Bert smiled; looking off to admire the rose bushes that lined one stone wall. “I find my greatest content out here, in the gardens. We raise our own produce, you know. We try to be as self-sustaining as possible. That is good work, and those gardens are extensive. But here….here I hear God’s voice in every noise.”
Cordelia didn’t know what to say so she nodded and looked at the bushes, too. Sister Bert went on. “I know it seems silly, but out here…I feel more as if I’m in God’s house than in the chapel.” She chuckled and rose.
“And if that keeps me out of heaven I’ll just have to live with it.” Cordy sat, watching her. Sister Bert smiled down at her.
“I have evening duties at the chapel. Why don’t you take this opportunity to meet with Mr. Wyndam Price?”
Cordy nodded. “I will. Thank you, Sister.” The nun turned and walked away and Cordy rose, watching her as she turned to go to Wesley’s temporary office.
Darkness had crept in and Cordy shivered in spite of the warm sultry evening. The walkway was deserted, and the feelings of comfort and warmth that had engulfed her while talking to Sister Bert drained away.
Now, an itchy edge seemed to rub at her conscience, and she looked around, feeling panic beginning to well up in her throat. Spinning around, looking up and down the deserted corridor. What was that?
Catching her breath, she held still. Something cold.touched her. Not her flesh, but…her soul. Something touched her soul. Something cold and evil and sharp. She looked around frantically.
Standing halfway between her quarters and Wesley’s office, she tried to decided whether or not to go on, when a whispered hiss seemed to flow over her body, through her head, and away. Cordelia spun around again, batting at…nothing. Nothing was there.
The dim lights along the walkway blinked on, and Cordelia looked all around her into the night and felt her heart racing. It was here. It had touched her.
She picked up her skirts and ran the rest of the way to Wesley’s quarters, running as if the jaws of evil were nipping at her heels.