Part 11
Angel surveyed the Chase Estate among the trees that cloaked the property in an illusion of safety and seclusion from the dangers of Sunnydale.
He saw the shadow of the young girl cast against the transparent curtains moving around her bedroom. Angel flinched with a pang of disappointment as the lone light turned off hiding the dim figure from even his night sight.
He glanced up to the faux balcony resisting the urge.
How many times had he stood there without a soul, peering through that window, staring at the young girl sleeping, making plans on the many different ways he would feel her warmth before taking it away.
In the beginning, he just watched unnoticed and unseen. Moving too soon would’ve alerted Buffy and her little gang of fighters and Angelus had wanted that time alone with just Cordelia. He couldn’t have the white hats cutting off his fun before he was ready.
Angelus had known that Buffy and Cordy weren’t the best of friends but he did know that the moron would insist that the wagons be drawn and his girlfriend protected if the danger came to light. So Angelus started slowly with harmless things, leaving a rose by the window, in her car, and then the drawings, just enough to spook Cordelia and put Buffy on edge but not yet triggering the slayer into full protective mode.
It had been exciting, his courtship of the girl, watching as her annoyance, became confusion, then fear and he had the added bonus of watching the moron arguing with Buffy at her hesitation about hunting and killing Angelus.
Angelus had been surprised how long it had taken for Cordelia’s annoyance to change to real fear. But then the girl he wanted was full of spirit and courage. But, the fear came, Angelus made sure of it.
Her horse’s head propped up against the window, the dark dead eyes peering into room, being the first thing that Cordelia would see as she opened her curtains in the morning. How Angelus had wished to be there when she saw it, when she realized that he wasn’t just playing games. But he had seen the fall out in the library that night.
Cordelia finally breaking down in tears, the moron demanding that Buffy kill Angelus, the others agreeing. It was then that the little group realized that Angelus had made Cordelia his mission. Angelus had so wanted to laugh at the slayer’s tears as those closest to her urged her to protect Cordelia by his death, the watcher with stern lectures, Xander with angry words and the little witch with compassionate stuttering reasoning.
Angel closed his eyes, pushing away the memory. If Wesley was right, he would never have to have that image and the ones far worse in his head. Angel reached out his hand in the air as to gently brush at the window through the distance. He slowly lowered it and stepped back into the darkness.
His eyes glued to the window as his other senses searched and identified the night sounds and smells that ventured too close to the house. Angel remained Cordelia’s silent sentential until the morning light forced itself over the horizon, signaling the changing of the guard, a bright sun to take his place.
Part 12
Angel watched from the shadows of Sunnydale High. He had returned to Cordelia’s as soon as the sun had set but she hadn’t been there, he had decided not to panic until after he confirmed that she wasn’t at the school. He had been relieved when he sensed her within the building.
He mentally chastised the young woman for walking out to her car alone. She knew of the dangers housed in the night. He followed her car and scent through the streets of Sunnydale.
Angel kept his distance as the young woman ran into her house carrying a bag full of movies. Angel stood back keeping his vigilance gratified that Cordelia had obviously planned an evening at home, though he was a bit a puzzled at her calmness. Angel wondered if Wesley had sent him back even before Cordelia’s soul had been transported.
The young woman wasn’t acting at all like he would’ve expected her to react finding herself back in Sunnydale of 1998.
His curious footsteps brought him closer to the first story window. Cordelia was sitting on the couch, looking more casual than he had ever seen her.
Angel watched, studying the line of her profile, tracing in along the glass planes. God, she was truly beautiful. He closed his eyes remembering, the feel of the smooth skin, the softness, and delicacy as he had learned the body that had haunted his dreams, the one that he claimed so long ago.
Angel willed the whimpers and tears out of that image, trying to pretend that sweet warm body hadn’t been trembling in fear, trying to forget that his tender touches had been nothing but teasing foreplay for the oncoming terror. Angel leaned his forehead against the window, wanting to bash out the screams and cries that wouldn’t be pushed aside, wanting to bash out the desire to touch that softness again.
His self-flagellation was diverted by the real cry coming from the young woman. Angel watched astounded as he recognized what was happening. The picture of Cordy on the couch, her fists slammed into her eyes as her body rocked. It was a vision; one that carried with it more pain than Angel had seen his seers’ experience in the past. Cordelia was crumbling within herself at the onslaught. Angel pushed at the window, needing to get to her.
The sound of the glass breaking never reached the young woman, her mind filled with pain and the vision. Angel jerked as the invisible barrier prevented him from entering. Angel growled, just stopping himself from begging to be let in.
Cordelia was moving now, her body straightened. Angel watched in amazement as the young girl took in the pain, forcing her body to cooperate with her will. She had not cried out again.
Angel growled in frustration as he lost sight of her as she went up the stairs.
He ran jumping to the balcony of her window, waiting for her.
Angel leaned in as Cordelia came into the bedroom going through her drawers, stuffing her jacket with crosses and small perfume bottles. His surprise was palpable as she busted up her night side table and then disappeared out of the room.
Angel leaped to the ground, digesting what he had observed. Cordelia Chase was going to go on the vision. Angel blinked after the little red car as it sped off. He shook off his stupor and ran.
***
Angel stalked the young woman as she entered the graveyard, staying close at all times.
So lost in his amazement at her taunting and fighting two vampires he almost missed the importance of what he had seen or the familiar scent drifting through the air. He moved quickly, remaining hidden by a large gravestone but near enough to intercept any attack by Angelus.
What he saw next would change his perception of the young woman forever. Cordelia Chase not only didn’t run, she kicked Angelus in the balls and incapacitated him. Her fear was contained and controlled. She hadn’t faltered until she heard and saw Buffy and the Scoobies. Then she screamed, while she pushed Angelus to run. She fell into the moron’s arms like a damsel in distress.
Angel stayed still, ignoring the chaos of the conversation, high pitch questions, angry retorts, and whining of the teenagers, concentrating on Cordelia. She may look like the teenage Cordy, but Angel knew now that the young woman was the one that Wesley, Fred, and Gunn had spoken of with love and regard.
***
Angel wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, his thoughts too confusing for his feet to stay in one place. Wesley had said that the 17-year-old Cordelia didn’t have his marks. But she did, Angel knew in an instant as the second vampire apologized, the fear coating his scent before she staked him.
Angel had thought that when he was in the Bronze and sensed the marks on beautiful brunette that he had found the woman that had haunted him since 1898, but it hadn’t been her.
It was the woman that stood up to Angelus, the one that surprised him with a kick to the groin, the one that had visions and saved the victims at the risk of her own life- how did he forget she had faced Jack the Ripper and ended up feeding the serial killer to Angelus.
That was woman that he wanted with a passion that fueled a century of desire. And she loved a vampire with a soul. It was too much.
A low growl emitted from the vampire as he realized where his wandering had brought him and the scene that was taking place above. He wanted to leap and crush the vampire at the window, not wanting Angelus to subject Cordelia to his evil. He kept still though knowing that the vampire couldn’t reach the young woman.
Angel’s relief at Angelus departure was smashed by the guilt and futility of any desire to know that woman or be loved by her. Cordelia had whispered into the night that she knew Angelus’ secrets, but she didn’t. She didn’t know his.
Angel’s guilt forced him to his knees. Angel could never be the vampire with a soul that was loved by such an amazing woman because he had destroyed the beautiful teenager not allowing her to become that woman.
Part 13
Angel wondered what he was still doing there. He should’ve gone back and told Wesley that Cordelia already had the marks. He should’ve gone that first night. With that information, maybe Wesley could devise another plan. But, Angel couldn’t leave.
Angel sighed staring at the young woman trying to imagine what she was thinking what she was feeling. He had watched her now for two nights in a row. He half expected her to have another vision. Twice he followed her as she fought the vampires in her visions only to end up confronting Angelus.
The night before had been worse and better than the first. Worse, because he had seen the Angelus from the past, arrogant asshole, thinking that he had first and only rights to Cordelia Chase. His pleasure at seeing Cordy slice into him with words and wood had been short-lived as the other Angelus stole her from under him.
Angel had been prepared to interfere, so fearful that Cordelia would be taken by Angelus’ ruse. Angel had the unfamiliar urge to smile though when she turned the tables on the bastard, telling him as she plunged a stake in the vampire that he didn’t kiss as well as when he had a soul.
Angel had wanted to run to the woman at her words but the lingering knowledge that he had never kissed Cordelia with love made him pause.
Angel gazed into the window of the house. He shouldn’t be there. The more he saw of Cordelia Chase the more he wanted her, the more he was falling love with her spirit and courage, her beauty becoming secondary in his desire.
Angel jerked, his senses drawn to the front of the house.
He growled as the vampire ran up the steps, knocking on the door insistently. Angel wondered which Angelus was stupid enough to think that Cordy would just politely ask him in.
He waited with eager expectation for Cordelia’s slashing insults as she opened the door.
His eyes widened as Cordy blinked gulped and squealed out that she loved the vampire’s shirt and that she loved him.
Angel barely heard the vampire’s response. She was being fooled. The door slammed, shutting the vampire and young woman alone in the once safe house.
Angel paused as stood on the steps, the sounds, and words becoming clearer. His feet veered from the door to the window. A pang of something, close to rage, close to despair smacked against his skull and wrenched in his soul. Cordelia hadn’t been fooled. Angel stared as the young woman flung herself in the vampire’s arms, arms that held her securely, as she kissed him happily.
He cringed. Shut up and kiss me. And he did. Only it wasn’t Angel, it was the other vampire with the soul.
He slid down the side of the house, cradling his head in his hands. He had almost forgotten. God. Angel wanted the last two nights back, nights of seeing Cordelia strong and beautiful, nights that he could believe that she could love him and with that love give him the forgiveness he graved.
Reality hurt like hell when it crashed into a dream.
