Chapter 7
Angel strode alongside Buffy, his sure footing silent on the soft graveyard dirt. Willow and Xander flanked Buffy’s other side.
It constantly astonished him that Buffy could sneak up on a vampire with those two around. Angel was tempted to bite them just to shut them up. He shook away the unruly thought as soon as it formed, blaming it on the increasing throb in his head.
“Pacey,” Buffy repeated firmly.
“I don’t know.” Willow shook her head. “I know he’s cute but Dawson is too, and he’s her best friend.”
“You think they’re cute.” Xander interrupted.
“Yeah.” Buffy nodded, tucking a strain of hair behind her ear.
“Of course,” Willow said.
“But, not cuter than me.” He pointed to his chest.
“Xander.” Buffy rolled her eyes, before turning back to Willow. “Will, it’s got to be Pacey.” Buffy started to walk again. “It can be confusing. But best friends, are just that—best friends.” She looked pointedly over her shoulder at Willow and Xander.
“Yeah, I guess.” Willow sighed, tugging at one of her long braids that fell over her slim shoulders and covered the straps of her overalls. “Mixing the two up just ends up being hurtful.”
“Yeah.” Xander kicked at the dirt. He then looked up. “But, you think I’m cute.”
Buffy shook her head at his goofy smile and laughed with Willow. “The cutest.”
It was too much. First an inane conversation about students Angel didn’t even know, much less care about and then Xander’s need to have his ego stroked. “Buffy.”
She stopped suddenly at Angel’s voice. “Yes, Angel?”
“You don’t need me here. I’m going home.”
“But—“
“Good night.” Angel said.
Buffy watched as Angel strode towards the stone columns that lined the boundaries of the cemetery. Her stare stayed on him until he disappeared into the darkness beyond.
“Buffy, are you okay?” Willow asked softly, laying her hand on Buffy’s shoulder.
“He…he didn’t say a word all night.” Buffy’s green eyes glistened with moisture.
“Yeah, normally, Angel is SO chatty.” Xander said, jumping up to sit on a low-standing tomb.
“Xander, stop.” Willow slapped at his knee. “Buffy, maybe Angel just doesn’t have an opinion of who Joey should be with.” She fiddled with the buckle of her overalls. “Does he even watch Dawson’s Creek? Does he even have a T.V.? Maybe, next time we can talk about…what does Angel talk about?”
“Nothing.” Xander retorted, this time swinging his leg away from Willow’s reach.
Buffy frowned at Xander, and then sighed. “I just…I had hoped that he would want to go with us to the Bronze after the patrol but he didn’t give me the chance to ask.”
“You do know that you guys broke up, right.”
“Xander, Buffy just wants them to remain friends, that’s all.”
“Right.” Xander shook his head. “Buffy, you said yourself that breaking up with Angel was for the best. Well, making a clean break IS for the best. Jettison him for good.” He rested his elbows on his knees.
“We can be friends.” Buffy shook her head. “We can,” she repeated at Xander’s expression. “Angel and I aren’t you and Cordy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Xander jerked up from his slouched position.
“I broke up with Angel because it just wouldn’t work out. We couldn’t be together, not like that, but not because we don’t still love each other. Cordelia broke up with you because…well, you know.”
“Just say it. She broke up with me because I screwed up.” Xander crossed his arms.
“I did, too.” Willow patted his leg.
Xander jumped off the tomb, away from Willow’s touch, to face Buffy. “When exactly were you and Angel ‘friends’? Was it the one second before you become star-crossed lovers?”
Buffy glared. “You and Cordy never belonged to together.”
“And you and Angel do? Can we say you slayer, him dead guy, with a jack- in- the- box evil killing persona. You don’t belong together. That’s why you broke up.” He shot back.
“Xander,” Willow interrupted. “It IS different, Buffy and Angel really love each other. They just can’t be together. You and Cordy, well…”
Xander started to pace in front of a tombstone. “You don’t know anything about me and Cordy.”
“You two hated each other for years. You were never friends. Angel and I love each other.” Buffy said sharply, her fist tight at her side.
“I don’t hate Cordy.” Xander stopped his pacing. “I don’t,” he said more firmly, at the girl’s doubtful expressions.
“You could’ve fooled us,” Buffy retorted. “You can’t even look at her without insulting her.”
Xander shook his head. “I don’t have a choice. I tried to apologize at the hospital, more than once, but she kicked me out, wouldn’t listen. She hates me. How am I supposed to act? She starts it.”
“Not all the time, Xander.” Willow said softly.
“Matter of moments, Will. You have to strike first with Cordy or she’ll eat you alive. But I don’t hate her. If she had just listened maybe we could’ve…” Xander kicked at the dirt. “I don’t know, we just could’ve…” He blew out a breath. “Instead, she turned into the Queen Bitch that we knew and, well, hated.”
“But you don’t hate her.” Buffy cocked her head. Her fists relaxed as her anger receded.
Xander shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. “No. She hates me.”
Buffy sighed. “Xander, have you ever thought that maybe she was hurt and just acting defensively, and every time you insult her it makes it worse. Maybe being nice or at least not ‘striking first’ might be an idea.”
Xander’s eyes widened. “You can’t be nice to Queen Bitch. She won’t let you, right Will?”
Willow shifted a bit and cleared her throat. “I…yeah, but I’m not really the best person to be in this conversation, since I am part of the reason Cordelia hates us again.”
“Whatever.” Xander waved his hand in the air. “We were talking about you and Angel.” He turned to Buffy.
Buffy nodded glad to have the focus back on the original topic. Talking about Cordy and Xander hadn’t been what was on her mind and she definitely hadn’t wanted to make Xander upset.
“It’s just that Angel and I are different,” she said in a softer tone. “I wanted to ask him to go to the Bronze, because even though we can’t…well, date, we can still be friends, because well we want to and friends go to the Bronze together.” Buffy said, wrapping her arms around her waist in a tight hug.
“But, it’s still painful, especially I guess, for him. I hate the idea of hurting Angel, but I just want us to be comfortable together.” Buffy took a deep breath, letting her arms fall to her sides. “Maybe, I should stop calling him, give him more time or something.”
Willow draped her arm over Buffy’s shoulders, giving her a small squeeze. “It will be okay, Buffy. It will get easier for you. And Angel IS still going on the patrols, helping and stuff. So you see, he wants to be friends, too. It would be hurtful if you just started to ignore him. Believe me, I know, Oz still won’t talk to me,” Willow said sadly.
Buffy nodded. “You’re right.”
Xander sighed. “We’re still friends, though, right.” He wrapped his arms around them.
The bestest,” both girls responded. Buffy gave an extra reassuring pat on Xander’s hand.
Chapter 8
Angel stopped as he left the cemetery, realizing, that he had exited at the same place as the night before. He crossed the street to the grassy area where he had killed the Phermitica. The night’s scents faded as the sensory memory of the fight assaulted him.
It wasn’t the putrid stench of the Phermitica that overwhelmed him, though. It was the cadence of Cordelia’s voice and appealing fragrance of Irish wild flowers.
Angel smiled at the image of an outraged Cordelia, flat on her butt.
Cordelia was definitely not a typical damsel in distress. Angel couldn’t recall any damsel of lore treating her rescuer with the utter disdain that Cordelia had treated him with. He wondered if there was any scenario that would have Cordelia gushing or at least being appreciative about being saved. He already knew that walking her to her car didn’t merit a thank you.
He no longer felt the need to return to the mansion. Rather an unidentifiable restlessness drove his feet towards downtown Sunnydale.
***
Angel stopped before he reached the street lamps that illuminated the row of storefronts. He didn’t want to join the people that were coming and going at the coffee shop. He moved across the street, stopping as he recognized the little red convertible out of the corner of his eye.
Angel walked behind the row of stores shaking his head when he found Cordelia’s car parked in the dark, secluded lot.
Cordelia had said she had a date, so she must be at the Starbucks, he reasoned. The only other open store was the dress shop.
Angel considered the car, the darkness, and the distance from the coffee shop. There was only one reason he could think of why a boy would want his ‘date’ to park in such a hidden spot. His question was- what would the boy do if Cordelia didn’t have the same reason. Angel turned swiftly heading back to the storefronts, and settled against a street lamp to wait for Cordelia and her ‘date’.
***
Cordelia smiled a wide fake smile as she gave Harmony’s mother her credit card back. God. She hated this, but she couldn’t deny that she did have a talent for dressing the elite of Sunnydale.
Fortunately, the rumors of her parents’ financial demise hadn’t hit the country club yet, and her wealthy customers were impressed when she told them that her parents thought she should experience the work world before she joined them on her well-earned European tour after graduation.
Explaining why the estate she had grown up on had been sold was a bit tougher. But, her story that her parents sold it before going on their romantic second honeymoon in Europe and left Cordelia behind with family friends right outside Sunnydale to finish high school, seemed to work. No one had even questioned who she was staying with, once Cordelia clarified that the family friends’ were firmly encased in the neighboring county’s country club’s jurisdiction.
Cordelia wouldn’t worry about it until her Dad’s attorneys couldn’t keep the negotiations with the IRS silent anymore. She would just take advantage of it while it lasted and with any luck that would be until she left Sunnydale.
Cordelia began to wonder at the long conversation she’d just had with Harmony’s mother. While, Harmony had been shunning her, she hadn’t started any vicious gossip about Cordelia having to work despite the fact that her mom must have told her.
No. Harmony must be ignoring it. Hoping it would just go away. From what she just heard from Harmony’s mom, she and the other country club mom’s were beginning to believe that Cordelia’s parents had the right idea, not about the second honeymoon, but that their children should learn some financial responsibility.
Cordelia rested her elbows on the counter, a wicked little grin danced on her lips as the perfect idea hatched in her mind. She would have every ‘country club brat’ working before she graduated.
She looked up at the clock. Her toes did a happy dance in her shoes. Closing time was better than presents in a blue box. She reached for her purse under the counter, not even realizing that a small magazine fell to the floor.
“Miss Chase, where do you think you are going?”
“Home,” she said, pointing to the clock.
“I asked you to catalog last week’s receipts.” Miss Twittle paused, noticing the magazine by her feet. “That’s mine.”
Damn. Cordelia had forgotten all about it. “Yes, I know.” She quickly came around the counter and picked it up. “It was in the afternoon mail.”
Miss Twittle quickly snatched the magazine. “Why didn’t you give it to me right away?”
“I’m sorry.” Cordelia gave a pat smile, refusing to comment about the weird fixation Miss Twittle had with Soap Opera Digest.
“It was the on the floor.” Miss Twittle glared at Cordelia.
“It must’ve fallen. I’m sorry.”
“Miss Chase, your performance this evening as been less than satisfactory,” Miss Twittle said, clutching the magazine to her chest. “The receipts?” .
Cordelia sighed, reaching back under the counter and pulling out a small index box. “Done.”
“In the computer?” Mrs. Twittle pointed through the scarves and jewelry to the back office.
“Done too, the disc is on your desk.”
“I didn’t see you do it.” Her French- manicured nails clicked against the cover of the magazine.
“I did it while you were taking your dinner break.”
“In the back office? I instructed you that while there was only one clerk in the store, you must stay out front to greet the customers.”
“There were no customers.” Cordelia’s nails stabbed into her palms.
“Miss Chase, if people don’t see you out front they don’t come in. You’re neglecting your duties once again.”
Cordelia bit back her snort. She opened the receipt box and pulled out the one from Harmony’s mom. “$2048.00.” She slapped the paper on the counter. “And looking back through this.” She gestured to the box, “I’ve realized that not one of my numerous sales have been less than $500.00, so I don’t think it’s quite accurate to say I’ve been neglectful in my duties.”
Miss Twittle glared and disappeared in the back office.
Cordelia happily took the slamming door as a dismissal. Picking up her purse again, she practically skipped out the door.
Chapter 9
Cordelia strode purposely and quickly through the dark parking lot to her car.
“Cordelia.”
She jerked, her hands fumbling in her purse. “I’m armed,” Cordelia said, pulling out the little canister and pointing it at the threat.
“Polite hint?” Angel gestured to the breath spray.
Cordelia narrowed her eyes and tossed the bottle back into her purse. “How do you know that I didn’t have holy water in it?”
“Do you?” Angel raised an eyebrow in obvious doubt.
“I have some. I do, stay right there.” Cordelia searched through her purse again finally grasping at the spritzer. “See?” She pointed it directly at Angel.
“Are you going to shoot?” Angel hid both his amusement and his exasperation. Even the slowest vampire in history could’ve killed her by now.
“Maybe. I’m still thinking. What are you doing here?”
“The better question is why are you walking alone in a dark parking lot. You do understand that you live on a Hellmouth, don’t you.” Angel looked around. “Where’s your date?”
“None of your business.” Cordelia glared, stepping away.
Angel narrowed his eyes at her. Cordelia hadn’t been at Starbucks like he had first thought. Rather, he had seen her leave the dress store alone.
Angel walked beside her. “You lied, didn’t you? There was no date. And you were also out last night by yourself. Why?”
Cordelia turned, stomping her foot. “Don’t you have an elsewhere to be?”
“No.” Angel waited as Cordelia continued to glare.
Cordelia chewed on her bottom lip. “Shopping.”
“Uh huh. Shopping is so great by the cemetery.” He held her gaze.
“Tonight, I was shopping.” She jerked her eyes away from his and focused on the ground.
“Really? So, where are your packages?”
“I didn’t find anything I liked,” she said quickly, looking up and then back to the ground.
“That’s lie number two. Why are you lying?”
“Lie number two?”
“Your date.” Angel said wryly.
“I didn’t lie.” Cordelia protested.
“Oh, where is he? ” Angel made a show of looking around.
“I didn’t lie. YOU said I had a date,” she retorted, pointing at Angel. “I just wanted you to keep thinking you were OOH SO smart.”
“Cordelia.” Angel crossed his arms. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Cordelia until he got his answers.
She threw up her hands in annoyance. “I was working.”
Angel raised his brows at the unexpected answer.
“Oh, don’t you even dare repeat Xander’s lameass insult,” Cordelia warned.
Angel smiled at the memory. “It’s an honest profession, Cordelia.” Angel considered her increasingly widening eyes. “You would be quite popular – if you stayed alive.”
“Wha…” Cordelia gaped, unable to form any response.
Angel hid his amusement. It was refreshing to be the one that made Cordelia speechless. He hadn’t even been sure that it was possible. Cordelia just stood there making small indistinguishable sounds.
“I am NOT a whore.” She said finally.
“I didn’t say you were. Only that you would be popular.” Angel eyes took in her lovely face, the green turtle neck, and black skirt that covered but didn’t hide the swell of her breast or hips. “You’re beautiful.” He shrugged.
“You’re insane.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “I work at The Dress Place, not on the streets,” she snapped.
“You work?” He was having a hard time getting it through his head. Working and Cordelia didn’t seem compatible.
“Yes.” Cordelia crossed her arms. “You know, your look of total disbelief is more insulting than that baloney you spouted.”
“Baloney?” He raised his brows, trying not to chuckle out loud.
“Nonsense, drivel, hogwash, poppycock, BULL SHIT.” Cordelia shook her head causing her ponytail to swing. “Your ‘attempt’ to be oh-so-witty is just as lame as Xander’s.”
Angel ignored her words, his thoughts on the thick strands cascading over her shoulder. He shook away the question of what they would feel like loose and tangled in his fingers. “Okay, you work, why? Not for the money. Character building?”
“My character is just fine.” She glared.
“I don’t know, Cordelia.” Angel gave an exaggerated shrug. His concentration now fixed on Cordelia’s expressive face.
“It is, too.” Cordelia puffed out her cheeks out in frustration.
Angel smiled at the picture she made. Causing it was almost has fun as making her speechless.
“Stop it! You’re doing that on purpose just to irritate me.”
“I was just smiling,” Angel said innocently.
“YOU aren’t supposed to smile.” Cordelia insisted.
“Who says?”
“EVERYONE.” Cordelia waved her hands in the air. “You ARE Angel, the dark stoic broody vampire in love with Buffy. You DON’T smile, DON’T laugh, barely talk. All YOU do is gaze at Buffy from dark corners until she lets you loose to go kill something.”
Any fun Angel may have been having disappeared into a stilling anger. He leaned into Cordelia, lifting her chin up with his finger. “I told you before, I am at NO ONE’s beck and call.”
Cordelia jerked back. “Whatever.”
Angel straightened, satisfied at her slight hint of fear. Maybe this time she would actually listen. “You were telling me why you were working.”
“You did that before.” She pointed accusingly. “You were trying to scare me. You ARE mean.”
“I’m a vampire, Cordelia, I’m mean by nature and inclination. You shouldn’t forget that.” He relaxed his stance and curiosity took over his voice, “Cordelia, why are you working?”
Cordelia glanced up, the tension still in her shoulders. “I don’t…fine,” she spat out. “My dad wanted me to experience the working thing. I agreed because if I work until graduation, I get to go to Europe afterwards. Okay? Satisfied?”
“Yes.” Angel’s reasonable tone contracted directly with the sharpness of Cordelia’s.
“Good,” she said sarcastically, turning to walk away.
He fell into step beside her.
“Why are you still here?”
“You should park in the front under the street lights,” he chastised, leading Cordelia to the red convertible.
Cordelia bristled at Angel’s tone. “I don’t have a choice. Employee parking.”
“Is Europe more important than your life, Cordelia?”
“Getting out of Sunnyhell is,” Cordelia said through gritted teeth. She shoved her key into the car lock, sliding into the driver’s seat as soon as the door was open.
Angel shook his head, watching the car squeal out of the parking lot. Infuriating girl. He waited until the taillights disappeared before he moved back to the street.
***
Angel paused at the sound of a door chime. A woman was locking up the dress shop. Angel assumed she either a manager or the owner. A decision was made before he even realized that he had one to make.
Angel cleared his throat loudly, giving warning of his approach.
“Who…?” The startled woman looked around, her gaze coming to rest on Angel.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you work there?” He pointed to the dress shop, stepping closer. He moved slowly to give the suspicious woman a chance to feel comfortable in his presence.
“Yes, I’m the manager.” Miss Twittle acknowledged keeping a tight grip on her purse.
“So, Cordelia Chase, works for you then?”
Ms. Twittle visibly relaxed, perking up in fact. “Did she wait on your wife? Do you have a complaint?”
“No.” Okay, the manager had it in for Cordelia. Though, he guessed he couldn’t really blame her. It would be hard as hell to make Cordelia do anything she didn’t want to do.
“Oh, she’s a friend of yours then?”
“No, actually, I spoke with her the other evening, in the store.” He pointed back to the door.
“I don’t remember you coming into the store before.”
“You must have been with another customer.” Angel smiled, politely.
Miss Twittle stepped closer and smiled. “Did you need something?”
“Well, yes, but, I’m afraid only Ms. Chase can help me. When I was last here, I was supposed to pick up a dress for my mother, but it hadn’t come in yet. Ms. Chase said she would check on it and suggested I come back this evening. But, obviously, I’m too late. Possibly, you can tell me when she’s working next.”
“She works every night. Tomorrow her hours are only to 7:00, though. Perhaps.” Miss Twittle pulled out her keys and turned to the door. “You could give me you’re mother’s name…”
“That’s kind, but it is late and I’m sure you want to go home. I’ll just try to come back tomorrow evening. Thank you.” Angel moved away, and then turned back. “I hope your car isn’t far.”
“Oh, no, just there,” she said, pointing to a big sedan parked in front of the store. “I always park there when I have to work late.”
“Oh, good.” He smiled, and then paused. “I thought I saw Ms. Chase pull out from the back but I couldn’t catch her.”
“Oh, that’s where she’s supposed to park. We can’t have a sales clerk taking up customers spots.”
Angel nodded politely, though her disregard for her employee’s’ safety infuriated him. Frustrating or not, Cordelia was a young woman alone and this was Sunnydale. Angel had half a mind to show the woman that parking so close didn’t guarantee anything. But, since he had already gotten what he needed from her, he just waved a good night.