Title: In The Pale Moonlight
Posted: 19 July 2006
Summary: Pretend that Cordelia left LA after Angel fired them, that she found another town to live in, that she got a job she liked and a small circle of friends and actually managed to get on with her life and was happy. Now pretend Angel walks back into this new life of hers. This is what happens immediately after, the next night.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Please ask
Notes: I have no idea where this ficlet came from, only that I wrote it while listening to Audioslave one night back in Feb. It reads like the epilogue of a longer fic, and though Kelley challenged me to write that main story, I’m sorry sweetie, it’s just not there.
The night is full on, the moon high, casting a shadow of silver light on the road.
She drives, heedless, needing only to put her life behind her, to go where she can’t be found, to be free.
He can’t just come back, after all this time, he can’t.
She feels him like she feels the moon, light following her even down this dark road, lit up by stars in an indigo colored sky.
Wind coming in through the open window ruffles her hair, raising it in a soft crown around her head, tickling her neck the way he never used to.
How many times did she sit at her desk, watch him at his, trying so hard for redemption, knowing it might never be enough, the Shanshu a myth made to feed his desperate hope? She feared for him, so fragile inside, so strong at the same time.
And then he went and turned her out, even further out of his reach then she ever was sitting five feet from him. Bereft and adrift of purpose, her heart aching from the rejection, she turned and walked away, because Cordelia Chase never looks back.
A year and a half to rebuild herself, and here he comes, this vampire with contrition in every step he takes, and what is she supposed to do, fall back into his world, forgive a year’s worth of rejection while he spun out of control?
Who did he think he was, this damned vampire with soft eyes begging for her favor?
Goddamned vampire with a touch that lingered even days later.
So she drives, trying desperately to put distance between them, before she forgets her pain and five hundred and forty seven nights of tears and aching loneliness that only made her stronger.
Crumbled to dust for the time it takes to look up at him walking into her office, her steely strength giving way to quivering guts and the need to touch him.
No she would not.
She is strong.
Ignores his softly trembling hands.
Pushes down the responding tremor in her heart.
No, she will not.
But his lights are in her review mirror, following where she has told him not to, absolute in his need to have her. To wear down the last of her will and make her his devoted slave all over again.
She sighs, the goodbye to her life happening even as she takes her foot off the gas, and begins to apply the breaks, letting him catch her as she rolls onto the shoulder of the road.
The night is cool as she stands and waits, the moon high over her head, shining down with silver light. So quiet out here, and she looks up and mourns, her tears tracking down her cheeks. She’s tired of fighting him and herself and she needs him, deep down in her body and her soul is an ache she can’t deny any longer.
Always him, this man that has her tied up so tight she can’t breathe, so tight the pain is a throb that she feels in her throat.
Or is that just her heartbeat at the sight of him unfolding from his car?
She nearly sobs as she watches him, everything she has taught herself not to want, not to need. Where did it all go, this strength she prides herself on?
He stops in front of her, black eyes on her face, hands at his side, gentle like a predator would be when he corners his prey, leaving her no avenue of escape.
“You-” her voice trembles and she tries again. “You can’t just walk back into my life and ask me to come back. I’ve built something for myself, just for me, and I’m living it.” She waits for him to answer, to say something, but he doesn’t. Just watches her silently, coat billowing in the night air. “Don’t you see? There’s no room for you here.”
Liar, she whispers to herself. There was only ever him. She was just on hiatus, waiting for him to make his way back to her.
He reaches out and tries to take her hand, and the touch burns and she jerks back. He follows, taking her elbow and pulling her back to him, until she’s flush against him, and the feeling of his body undoes her, makes her limp in his arms as he holds her, his face buried in her hair and hands clutching at her back.
He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. He lets her tears talk for him, feels her surrender in the way she pushes her face against his chest, her breath hot against his skin.
He whispers her name, drawing her in, and she follows, looking up into his face and tracing the curves with pleading eyes.
He leans down and captures her mouth with his, tasting salty tears and brown sugar lip gloss, deepens it to find her love, her need, and answers with his own.
She clutches at his biceps, feeling the clench of his hands on her shoulder blades, holding her weight for her as he strokes the inside of her mouth.
Silent is the night around them, wrapping them in silver light and blue sky.
When she can’t hold herself up anymore, he backs her up with the press of his hips on hers, directing her against her own car, pushing into her body the way she needs, reminding her of all the nights she ached for this very thing, this contact that seems so vital to her survival.
How can she need so much without dying from the intensity of it?
She pulls him even closer, until he’s forced to bend over her body, arching her backwards and rocking against her center like she needs him to. She’ll come from this alone, his touch assuaging her in ways that go beyond physical gratification.
When did this happen?
She tries to retrace her steps and recall the moment of her downfall, and remembers when Spike took him and she didn’t know if he was dust in some alleyway. Feels the bone deep panic again, remembers rocking back and forth, folded into herself to protect against the pain she knows would come with news of his death.
When he did leave her, it was another kind of death that took him. Blond, and petite and utterly without mercy, she stole Angel from Cordelia without giving a thought to what it would do to her.
“Angel,” she whispers against his open mouth, and feels him pull her tighter.
He pushes her down and gets on top of her, one arm pulling their clothing aside, until there is nothing but his cock pressed up into her heat. He takes her with such casual ease; it steals her breath, makes her gasp. He covers her mouth again, taking that too. Leaves her with nothing but him, his weight, his hands holding her arms to the hood, his hips pushing his cock into her.
The pressure is just right, builds and builds like fire, forcing her to kiss him back with savage intensity, trying to make him feel the depth of her need, and he does, god he does, because he thrusts harder, right up against her pubic bone, making her feel him, all of him, everywhere.
She cries from deep within her belly, the tightness in her spiraling into something, makes her breath ragged when he lets her breathe –
“Angel!” She cries helplessly, the orgasm rolling over her in waves, spiraling out from her clit to her belly, to her chest, making her tremble and surrender to him with each gasp and shudder.
She’s only dimly aware of feeling him come in her, the feel of his body collapsing onto hers the only thing that brings her around.
He lets a few seconds pass as he gathers himself but he doesn’t move off her. Keeps her caged to the hood of her car, nudges her face over until she’s looking up at him with unfocused, soft eyes.
He’s sweating, minor trembles making him unsteady but his eyes are focused when they look down at her.
“I’m sorry it took so long to realize what I want, what I need, but now I know.” He keeps his eyes on her face. “Now I know I need you, and I know it won’t be easy and I know you’re gonna be pissed at me for a long time, but time is all I have-“
She turns her face away from this, doesn’t want to hear him but he tightens his grip on her, unmerciful, forcing her to look at him by moving into her line of sight.
“-and all I’m going to do is wait for you, and wait for you, and wait for you. I need you. I love you, and even though I can’t promise you forever, I can promise that you are more than just the moon to me, Cordelia Chase, you are the night.”
Her heart falls irrevocably to his with those words, and she knows she won’t come back from this.
“Now come home. There’s someone I want you to meet.”