Chapter 5
Who ever first coined the phrase “drowning their sorrows in a bottle” must have, at one time, worked for a Vampire with a soul, learning the paranormal investigative process.
Then they must have been granted, against their will, some kind of visionary power that wracked them, body and soul, with hell-hot pain.
Then, there was probably a completely predictable and pedestrian series of events: the usual ex-girlfriends stirring up trouble, the unstopped massacre of the entire upper staff of a large law firm, being fired, having a third eye impregnated in the back of your head….
Yeah, Cordelia thought, sprinkling salt on her damp fist, that guy must have had the same life as her.
Because that’s what she felt like. Shrinking and climbing into the lovely bottle of tequila and swimming with the worm before lapsing into salty oblivion. She raised her fist to her mouth and licked, following it with a shot of tequila and a quick suck of freshly sliced lemon.
Wesley watched her out of the corner of his eye and leaned towards her. “Um…Cordelia.” His voice was a low murmur. “Of course, it’s your decision….” Cordelia snorted. “but perhaps you should…delay this form of relaxation until you’re home.”
Gunn slumped back in his seat across the table, loosely holding a chilled longneck. He took a long draw and set the bottle back on the table with a snap. “Wes is right. Let’s deal on this and move on to the serious mind-numbing.”
Cordelia sighed and wiped her fist off, letting the tequila burn down her throat. “Angel wants to regroup.”
“Angel wants to come work for US.” Wesley corrected, still sounding shocked. “If I’m reading him right, he wants to….attone…..for his lapse.” He fell silent and they all thought about the events of the last two days.
Angel’s 11th hour rescue of them from the Skilosh. Cordy having that freakin’ third eye in her head. They had stumbled back to their homes and slept, rising this morning feeling, for once, as if they had a chance at this battle.
No one had said it out loud, but that was it. Angel wanted to be back. He was sorry. He wanted to move on. With Wesley, and Gunn. And with Cordelia.
After Angel had shown up earlier in their office and made jaws drop with his proposal, Wesley had politely shooed him out, telling him that Angel Investigations would discuss it and get back to him. Gunn and been tense with anticipation; he was clearly torn between being pissed and being excited.
Only Cordelia had remained silent and still. Wesley had suggested that they have a drink together at Caritas and talk it over, the three of them. And now here they were.
Gunn looked at Wesley. “He tell you what caused this….epiphany…he kept going on about?
“No. I gather it involved Darla.” Cordelia stiffened slightly; no one noticed. “Unless I misunderstood, I believe he said Darla stabbed him with a sword. Perhaps that was it.”
Gunn’s eyes widened. “Wow. The man has a jones for the killers. Or the wack jobs.”
Cordelia wondered which category she fit into . She hadn’t said a word about her walk on the dark side to either Gunn or Wesley. For all she knew, they would streak straight over to the Hyperion and confront Angel and she had no clue how that would play out.
She had gone home that day, spent all afternoon crying, and had finally gathered herself by nightfall enough to go back to the office, trying to think of a way to explain the book loss to Wesley.
When she had opened the door, the familiar smell of old leather had greeted her before she saw the books, all neatly lined back up on the shelves. She had stood in the doorway, speechless and tired and pained. She had walked to her desk and sat behind it, staring into the moon-lit darkness before looking down and seeing the flash of white on her desk.
Picking it up, she turned on her desk lamp and saw the swoosh of the angel on the front of the card. She turned it over. The other side was blank and unmarked. As blank as she felt at that moment. Then the phone rang. And her simple little side trip to get their fee from the Sharps had turned into a freakin’ all expense paid trip to hell.
And then he was there, in his dark, dorky car, grinning like a little boy hoping mom would buy his suckup and let him out of timeout. Like he hadn’t set her up to be….she closed her eyes. Don’t go there.
Don’t go there. She stood up, agitated, and announced, “gotta go….” She gestured towards the girl’s room and took off. The club was packed tonight, and she wandered through various couples and groups before getting near the women’s restroom door.
“Hey, muffin” Cordelia turned to look at Lorne and held his gaze for a moment before humming the first few bars of Mary Had a Little Lamb. Lorne’s eyes widened and he straightened up, anger flashing through his expression. “Okiedokie. I can see you’re busy.” Cordelia stared at him blankly and wandered into the bathroom, closing the door.
Lorne stared at the closed door a moment before working his way back to a secluded table back in a corner, standing casually at the table before sitting. His voice was controlled as he looked over the crowd.
“Yeah, snookums, got the rest of the story. Gotta tell ya, not so much into the reunion thing right now, but that’s just the part of me talkin’ that doesn’t really like it when Cordelia is nearly raped.” His gaze settled on Angel, who sat slumped back in the shadowed corner, watching the AI gang at their table from a safe distance.
Angel’s gaze didn’t waver. “Yeah. You and me both.” He sighed. “Ya know, I’ve been to hell, Lorne. THE hell. Hung out, got tortured beyond the telling. Bought the t-shirt and the friggin’souvenir photo. But that was a day at the beach compared to this. If I can’t get them back…..” He was silent for a long moment, watching Wesley and Gunn talk.
“Wes I think I got, just because I think he wants to torture me. Gunn, I got, because he wants some brute strength standing beside him. Cordy…” His voice trailed off a bit. He honest to God didn’t know what to say.
“Cordy says ok.” Angel’s head whipped around as Cordy spoke. She stood there, looking down at him, her face raised so that her chin pointed out at him. “What’d ya think, you’d come here and listen in?” He squirmed a bit.
“That’s gonna stop. Trust me, I have no problem sharing my feelings. You really just don’t want to know about them right now. So quit with the vamp hearing. It’s….” She met his eyes. “It’s an intrusion.”
She started to walk away then spun around and leaned over the table. “This is it. This is the do-over, and there won’t be another. I don’t know what the hell the last few months have been all about for you, but it was enough for us to know that we can’t do this alone.”
“Neither can I.” His voice was quiet and low.
She blinked. “Yeah. Well. Anyway. Get this. We start from new. We go on. No one mentions…what happened. No one, got it?” She shot a look at Lorne. He nodded and sipped at his drink. “Wesley and Gunn already think I’m some kind of….girl. They don’t need to know about the books….or…how they got back. Or what happened in between.”
“Cordy…”
“Shut up. Don’t want to hear it.” And she turned and walked back to the table, plopping down in her chair, waving to Wesley and Gunn. “No, no, don’t get up.”
Wesley paused, his drink at his lips. He looked at Gunn, confused. “Um, we weren’t.” Cordelia snorted and motioned to their waiter for another shot and leaned forward.
“Here’s the deal, guys of mine. First of all….we suck at this.” Wesley slapped his drink down on the table with a disgruntled expression. Cordelia waved off his ‘I beg your pardon’ with a languid hand. “We do. Finding Aunt Bessie’s long lost pearls, yeah, maybe we can solve the caper. But guys, c’mon. We need him. Second of all…the Hyperion. Nicer, better part of town….no gym socks smell.”
Wesley nodded, still looking put out. “Third….we get it. We get the mission. And if he wants to finally get back to his roots and be in on it, let’s just….let him.”
Wesley listened as she wound down and finally spoke. “I’m somewhat nonplussed at his sudden reversal of attitude. You know what really bothers me?”
“That you don’t get why using “nonplussed” in normal conversation isn’t a babe magnet?” Gunn laughed at Cordy’s dry response.
“No, Cordelia. I want to know….” He played softly with the rim of his drink. “I want to know what happened to you.” He raised gentle eyes to hers. “Something happened. You’ve been…shell-shocked. You tried to hide it, but….” He shrugged. “We know you.”
Cordy took in a panicky breath, trying to think fast. “Nothing. Just the stuff, you know….oohhhh…give me that book, don’t make me move you. Jeeze, Wesley, you were there….got a memory of pulled stitches?”
Wesely held her gaze for a moment and Cordelia got the feeling he could somehow see into her mind. “All right. I don’t buy it, but….you’ll tell me if you want to. I’m here.”
Cordelia felt tears well up in her eyes. “And I said I had no friends….” She wiped her eyes quickly as the waiter sat another shot in front of her. Gunn made a suspicious sniffle and Cordy laughed a humorless laugh before loading up her fist with salt again.
“Ok. Our Little Women moment is over. We’re agreed. He’s back. We’re back.” Wesley raised his glass and Gunn raised his beer. Cordy raised her shot and they clinked together before she licked at the salt and downed the shot. Raising the lemon wedge to her lips, she sucked, making a face as it burned down her throat.
“Well, I suppose all we need to do now is telephone Angel and tell him our decision.” Wesley sounded relieved. “We accept his proposal, on our terms. He will, of course, need to work at rebuilding trust. No surprises.”
Cordy waved a hand over her shoulder. “No need to call. He’s back in the corner, watching us. Maybe listening.” Gunn and Wesley craned their necks to peer into the corner before looking back at Cordelia.
Wesely leaned across the table and whispered, “How long has he been there?”
“Apparently all this time. Surprise.” And Cordeila motioned for another shot.