The problem with light colours was they never stayed light for long.
Cordelia held up her fluffy cream top in disgust. Grubby wasn’t in it. Even if it wasn’t dirty, she still wouldn’t wear it. Wearing the same thing two days in a row really wasn’t gonna happen.
She threw it on the bed and rolled her eyes. God, this was a nightmare. Like it wasn’t bad enough having to use Rupert’s toiletries. She smelled like a man, and with dirty clothes, she felt like a teenage boy.
Cordelia couldn’t stand it anymore.
She left the guest bedroom, hollering, “Rupert!” Louder and sharper, “Rupert!”
Where the hell was that man? He was supposed to home an hour ago. Anyone would think he was trying to disregard her.
The vampiress was a hurricane as she stormed through the house. The cream bra, also grubby, barely concealed full breasts as they rhythmically bounced with every move she made. “Rupert!” This time, Cordelia bellowed it out. If there was one thing she hated, it was being ignored. Ah screw it.
Cordelia wasted no time in barging into Giles’ bedroom. She was sure he wouldn’t mind her borrowing a shirt, given the fact she desperately needed something clean to wear.
The closet door was thrown open and she stopped short. She stared, blinking, into her own private hell. This couldn’t be the only things in here, surely.
“Tweed,” she shoved aside a handful of hangers. “Tweed, and oh! More twee… Hello! What do we have here?”
A dark brown leather waistcoat was held up for inspection. Had Rupert auditioned for the Village People or something? She wondered what else was in the closet of Rupert Giles. That could wait until she found something she could wear because gross clothes were definitely not her style.
The vampiress looked as though she were about to cry as she tugged the waistcoat over each arm and stood there. This must be what depression felt like.
For a start not only did it not fit, it sagged and made her breasts disappear. Then it draped over her hips and poof! Her curves were gone, too.
Dressed in a waistcoat worthy of 80’s pop icons and gay ones at that. It belonged to man not Angelus. She was hungry enough to eat two, not one, but two whole humans, and her hands had been tied for over twenty four hours. This had to be one of the lowest moments in the life and times of Cordelia Chase.
The last time she’d felt so alone had been when her parents were killed. Sure, they hadn’t been the most affectionate people going, but they fed and clothed her, protected and taken care of her. A lot more than what some children got.
Like Angelus for instance.
He never openly talked about his human days, but from the bits and pieces he did say, Cordelia figured Daddy had been a bit of an ass.
Thinking about Angelus brought a pang to her dead heart and tears to her eyes. Her lower lip popped out into a pout and arms came up to wrap around her body in an effort to ward off the chill brought on by strangers and an equally strange place. She really wanted to go home.
Cordelia sniffed out a laugh and sucked up her pout. “God! What would Angelus think if he could see you now, huh? Stop being such a cry-baby and pull yourself together. You’re an Aurelius so damn well act like it.” She wiped her eyes free of the tears that threatened to fall and squared her shoulders. She had to find something to take her mind off things.
What was Angelus doing now?
A bruised and battered Spike limped out of the holding cell housing an unconscious Angelus.
“Well?” Darla demanded impatiently.
He’d smile if he could. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” A painful cough sent a shot of agony through Spike’s throbbing, burning chest. No doubt he had a broken rib or two. Bloodied, swollen skin pulled tight as he gamely tried that smiling thing. A hand with broken knuckles brought up an empty syringe for all to see.
The Master nodded in satisfaction. “Excellent, young William.”
Darla tapped her lower lip with her thumb nail, anxiety seeped out of every pore. “Carmen said the sedative would last eight hours at the most.” Before Angelus woke up and went on yet another rampage.
“Bloody great, that is.” Spike choked on his own blood. “Eight sodding hours before I get beaten to a pulp.” Badly blackened eyes glanced down. Torn shirt, the red colour enhanced by the sticky red liquid. “Again.”
“At least it’s eight hours free of Angelus way of finding her.”
The Master would scowl if he could. “Yes. While his passion for my sweet Bella warms my heart, his behaviour is doing more harm than good.”
Darla grabbed hold of Spike’s destroyed shirt to keep him upright. “We need to find her, Sire.” Or else Angelus would be the death of them all.
Aurelius placed one clawed hand on the shoulder of each vampire, ignoring the bone crunching sound coming from Spike. “Indeed we must. William, you have earned the right to do as you wish. Choose from my private collection if you please.”
“Great!” Spike’s teeth were crimson as he tried yet another smile. He could do whatever he wanted. Looking at Darla, “Let go pet, there’s a good girl.”
She let go of his shirt and shared with the Master the sight of a passed out Spike.
With Angelus safely sedated, it was time to get Drusilla and extract information out of Jorgan by any means necessary.
Giles couldn’t believe her, really he couldn’t. She’d not only invaded his privacy and gone through his entire wardrobe, including the drawers, but she’d thrown half of what he owned in the bin. All that remained were three or four shirts and a few pairs of dress trousers. On closer examination of his near empty closet, he noticed even his comfiest shoes were missing.
If he was in his right mind, he’d dust her for this.
“Well?” Cordelia’s beaming face looked up at him. Her hands gave a flourishing gesture around the bedroom. “What do you think?”
What did he think? He tried to move his mouth to answer, but couldn’t. His jaw seemed to be glued to the floor.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything,” she said and gave him a pat on the arm, pearly white fangs gleamed from between plump lips. “An eye for an eye, you know. Not only are you helping me get me home, but you’re letting me stay. For free, I might add. No need to thank me for something I was happy to do.”
The look on his face was priceless.
Giles numbly stared down into two stunning eyes the colour of liquid gold. They were large, expressive, and framed by dark lashes that fluttered so prettily. Those eyes were set in a face with sculpted cheekbones, a full mouth, and a button nose that wrinkled when she smiled. He couldn’t be angry when she was only trying to do something nice.
A lesser man, an ignorant man, would easily fall prey to this woman.
“Yes,” he heard himself say. “An eye for an eye, as you say. I will certainly help you get home.” The sooner she was gone, the better. Today’s heavy research would have nothing on tomorrow’s.
Now that his closet had been taken care of, she could fully concentrate on getting clean clothes that not only looked good, but also fit. There was one single person on this planet she’d trust with such a task and that was Cordelia Chase.
Angel was late in getting back to the watcher’s house, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to return so soon. His head was quiet for the first time since getting back from that place and he was reluctant to give up the peace. It wasn’t just the vampiress, it was Giles too.
Whether the Englishman knew it or not, there was blame and condemnation in his eyes every time he looked at Angel. Giles had a right to feel like that. After all, Jenny had suffered a broken neck at the hands of Angelus. He hadn’t drunk and that in itself was an insult. He wondered if the watcher caught that. Probably.
The vampiress, Cordelia, was a different matter altogether.
Staring him in the face was what he would have done if he’d gotten the chance. He gave a half hearted laugh. It seemed not even her Angelus had gotten the chance. That was something which had been bugging him.
Angelus did have the chance, so why was the Master Cordelia’s sire? She mentioned patience wasn’t always a virtue. Since when was he patient about taking what he wanted? The only thing he could think of was if Angelus wanted to do it right, complete with a white lace veil and calla lilies.
Was it possible Angelus…
Angel shook his head. There was no use going over and over something he didn’t or wanted to understand. He wondered how he was going to look Buffy and human Cordelia in the face, knowing that what he’d wanted to do had been done, even if in another world.
He tiredly scrubbed his face and let his head fall back against the couch, letting the silence wash over him. No crickets were outside, no traffic, no people tempting him. It was golden. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stay and wallow in the safety. He needed to get back to Giles and face his demons.
In more ways than one.
No sooner had Angel walked into the watcher’s house than he was greeted by two shaking hands gripping his jacket collar. The eyes of a madman stared at him through glasses that sat askew on a flaring nose. He blinked at the Englishman and wondered what caused such terror.
The vampiress sashayed out of the guest room and into the living room. Angel looked and then looked again, and his mouth dropped open. The reason for madness now on full display in Giles’ living room.
Most vampires were deathly pale, but not her. Her skin was sun kissed and complimented the cream bra barely covering her breasts. Full, round, and pert. Angel couldn’t stop himself from following the dip caused by exceptional cleavage and he came to a toned, flat stomach that held a tiny red jewel. A trim waist flared out into a set of hips designed to be passionately gripped.
Oh yeah. He knew the reason behind Giles madness. He was halfway there himself.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Cordelia nodded solemnly. “A fake tan that doesn’t transfer. I’m right there with ya, believe me.” She glanced down to examine the bra and Angel’s saucer sized gaze tracked every move her fingers made as they adjusted glittering straps. Gold orbs darted up in excitement. “Did you bring me food? Cus I am famished.”
Huh? What did she say?
Angel swore he could see strawberry nipples beneath that cream piece of nothing. Without hesitating, he pulled away from Giles, stripped off his jacket, and all but flung it over the exhibitionist. He hung on for a moment to make sure the point for her to cover up sank in. A sigh of relief came from behind him and the vampire wholeheartedly agreed.
“Aw Angel, I missed you too.” She hadn’t, but never mind. Cordelia returned the surprising hug with one that enabled Angel to get a first hand feel of exactly how soft those full breasts were. She shot Giles a confused look that wasn’t returned.
He moved away like she’d burned him. “Yeah,” Angel’s voice was a high pitched squeak that Giles would have laughed at. “Blood. Right. Right inside pocket.” Thank God he told her before he’d put his hand inside. Lord only knew what he might have touched.
Cordelia frowned. How could he put dinner in a pocket? She fumbled around until she felt a cold plastic bag and frowned some more. What was dinner doing in a plastic bag? She pulled it out and held it far, far away from her. “What the hell is this? Cus it certainly isn’t human.” It wasn’t even warm.
“You expect me to drink bovine juice?” The vampiress paused to take a deep, unneeded, calming breath. “I get the no hurting people rule. I get take-out, you get the vacuum cleaner, but pig’s blood? You do know you can get human on tap, right?” God, this was disgraceful and definitely not one of her more shining moments. She took a deeper breath, but it still did nothing.
Giles and Angel merely looked at her. They were obviously not going to get her something decent to eat. Great.
The disgust was evident as Cordelia’s attention went from them to the bag of bovine. Poor little pig. At least vampires were humane when they wanted a quick bite. “I’ve been taught to respect my hosts, so bottom’s up.” She gulped to prepare herself and vamped out.
Angel was mesmerised as the vampiress tore into the blood with her fangs. In that one single moment, she completely changed into something Angelus could only dream of. The pretty shade of gold was replaced by a dazzling bronze that melted, her brow became prominent and all her classically beautiful features were enhanced.
A hum of feigned delight escaped her throat and soft noises made him wonder if that’s how she sounded when swallowing other, more palatable liquids. Cordelia pinned him in place with a look of sheer pleasure as she fed and he couldn’t help but think she was fantasizing about eating him.
Oh God. Oh God.
Beautiful, human Cordelia down on her knees, her smart ass mouth sucking him deep while he fisted handfuls of chestnut hair. This was not what Angel needed.
What Angel needed was to get out of this house and fast. He was two tenths of a second from using every bit of supernatural speed he had to make a quick getaway when her voice entered his ears. He bit back a groan of frustration. How the hell had Giles hung onto his sanity?
“There’s one problem taken care of. Sorry if I don’t show my appreciation by not belching. Now onto the next.” Angel unwillingly focused glassy eyes on Cordelia, whose skin was now flushed pink with borrowed blood. Her arms were behind her back, the position did nothing to decrease the voluptuousness of her breasts. “I need clean clothes, and not just outerwear.”
“I would just turn my panties inside out, but a teenage boy I am not. It isn’t as if I can turn them back to front either, thongs are only meant to go one way.”
Giles face burned a deep ruby red only matched in colour by the traces of blood lingering on the lips of the vampiress.
Angel was wrong. The last thing he needed was the image of Cordelia Chase, either vampire or human, in a thong. Quick to save both himself and Giles, “I’ll get you some clothes.” Or a burlap sack
Two of the most annoying things in life were people hanging up the second you answered the phone, and the other was someone knocking whilst you were in the bath.
Cordelia, determined to ignore the incessant rapping on her window, ducked under the water and relished in the heat soothing her math frazzled brain. It wouldn’t be anyone important. Probably Xander hoping for an early evening macking session
Well, tough. He could wait until their date. She was a girlfriend, not a set of lips with no personality.
Unfortunately the knocking got louder. Not even the powers of honeysuckle and Mr. Martin could drown it out.
Irritation burned bright in hazel eyes as Cordelia climbed out of the tub. Her robe was grabbed and yanked on, a towel snatched and hair expertly wrapped.
“Alright! Alright!” She snapped loud enough for her voice to carry over Mr. Martin and through the double glazing.
A single eye peeked around the thick curtain. Surprise didn’t cover how she felt when she saw Angel standing on her balcony. The surprise quickly faded to resignation. He looked increasingly impatient, better not keep him waiting. Hoops hissed and she pulled the curtains aside and unlocked the door.
Angel rocked back and forth on his heels. Now that he was here, he had no clue what to say. Especially with her looking at him like he was handing over her death warrant. It didn’t help that he had been with the vampire version twenty minutes ago. Nor did help that he, as Angelus, had jerked off over her.
Cordelia remained unimpressed. “What is it?”
“Vampires? Slime demon? Something with lethal claws?” Off his blank look, “That’s why you here, isn’t it? To hook the bait?” She could feel the hook seeking deeper into the back of her neck.
Angel didn’t know how to answer that. Didn’t any of the others see her about anything else?
“Well? Do I pencil in another bath tonight or not?” God, What was it with him and words? Was he allergic or something?
The yellow fluffy robe was the first thing he noticed, and the second was the matching yellow towel wrapped round her head. Her skin was shining and wet, and she smelled of honeysuckle. Honey. That was the colour of her eyes. Big honey eyes that swirled with hues of gold and green. Her lips were free of lipstick, but were a natural beige that complimented.
Without make-up, all her features were on full display, and that included a little beauty mark. She looked so much prettier without the mask, Angel thought, but never said. Her neck was slender and shapely, and thankfully free of bite marks. Ears were smaller than he thought, but cute nonetheless. His gaze dropped lower and he sucked in a breath. Her robe was parted, allowing him to see a teasing hint of cleavage that made him thank God for women.
When Angel’s gaze roamed over her body, Cordelia rolled her eyes and pulled her robe tighter. She wasn’t entirely comfortable having him look at her like that.
Not since the night he was on top of her. Even now, one whole year later, she still felt him between her legs. Was it cheating to masturbate over it? Or was it just sick?
Angel noticed her move. Oh hell! He was staring.
His mouth shakily opened and closed, eyelids rapidly blinked, and his childish stammering came back in full force.
“S-sorry. I-I-I…..” He hadn’t stammered like this since he discovered sex at the ripe old age of 13. Angel let out a laugh. He was the 245 year old vampire who had threatened to do more than kill her, and he was the terrified one.
Cordelia exhaled a long deep breath, and leaned against the balcony door frame. “Take your time, I’ve got all night.”
His lips pursued into a smile. “I haven’t been this nervous since Mrs. Haverston approached me when I was 13.” Angel wasn’t prepared for the smile he got. It was beautiful. Perfect white teeth appeared between a plump, pouting lower lip and a perfect cupids bow.
“13, huh? And a married woman at that. What Xander wouldn’t give to be you.” The words came with that beautiful smile, so he took no offence. Besides what she said was true.
“Is that a compliment or an insult?”
If possible, her beautiful smile widened to a point where he feared it would crack her face. “How about a bit of both?”
Suddenly, what nervousness he felt disappeared. Angel looked at his feet, then back to her. He blamed the attraction on the vampiress. Speaking of the she-devil, he had something to take care of. “I need some clothes…”
It took less than a second for Cordelia to slip into business mode. “You’ve come to the right person.” She paused. “Can I invite you in?”
Angel understood. “I’m not evil.”
She beamed and he wondered what he was looking at. Cordelia or the sun.
“In that case…” Cordelia gestured to her bedroom. “Come on in. First, we need to take some measurements. Then we’ll see what season you are.” She looked him up and down as though he were a newly discovered species. “I’m going with winter, or possibly spring.”
It took him a second or two for him to realise she was sizing him up. Quick to correct the misunderstanding, “It’s women’s clothes I need…”
To say she was surprised was an understatement. Cordelia just about managed to stop her eyebrows from hitting the sky. “Well, uh, that does put a spin on things.” The middle of her nose crinkled up as determination set in. “No problem of course, at least not for me. If I can’t fix you up, then my name’s not Cordelia Chase.” A tailored suit would go great. If he was going that way, then he’d need something to minimise those shoulders.
This was fun!
What? “No. No!” A tiny laugh stunned him as much as her. Angel grinned and looked away. “Not for me, but thanks.” He didn’t want to appear ungrateful.
Was it wrong of her to be disappointed? Cordelia gave a silent nod and also averted her gaze. Of course he wouldn’t want to play dress up. What was she thinking?
Guilt must be second nature to him. Why else would he feel like an ogre for not wanting to dress up as a woman? Angel shot her a consoling smile. “Sorry.”
The brunette sighed and moved aside to let him into her room. “What exactly do you need?”
The question went unanswered as her bedroom stole his full attention.
A rich peach covered her walls, the shade one that made him feel warm all over. A dark grey hearth and antique mantle piece, made from a dark cherry wood, surrounded a fake fire and was matched by the furniture carefully arranged here and there. Two nightstands were placed at either side of the four poster bed and the small lamps emitted a soft glow that enhanced the decor.
It was so very different to the ones belonging to Buffy and Willow. It was a testament to the mature taste of the brunette.
“This is nice,” Angel commented and took a good look around, catching his eye were two paintings hanging close to the bed. He walked over to better examine them. “To Cordelia,” he read “Happy birthday. Love Alex.” Only then did he notice the silver winged angel in the painting was Cordelia.
A strapless dress clung to her upper body and fell in a silver waterfall to pool at a dainty set of bare feet. Lazy waves of dark hair tumbled around her face, tiny brushes of white reflected the dazzling blue lightning flashing all around her. Angel traced her face through glass, imagining he could feel the textured strokes under his fingers.
This Alex was obviously very talented and Cordelia Chase was an excellent model. Angel wondered if Xander knew she’d posed for another man. The boy would probably demand equal rights and perv over her. He resisted the urge to pull a face for fear of inciting her wrath.
“Alex is the boyfriend of my cousin, Holly. As you can see, he specialises in fantasy art. The girl in the other painting is Holly, but that’s a copy. She has the original.”
He glanced at the other portrait and the first thing he saw was a head of titian red hair that fell in thick ringlets around a pair of creamy shoulders. This one was vastly different from Cordelia’s. This one was done in various shades of green, right from emerald to mint, and contrasting shades of bronze, the theme being that of a woodland sprite.
Angelus couldn’t have done better if he tried.
“I’ll take your endless staring as a compliment.” There was a pretty pink haze on her cheeks, but he couldn’t be sure if it was from his admiration or her hot bath. “You want a soda or coffee?” God bless friends who got cool presents like mini-fridges and hot drinks machines. Cordelia sent Angel a pointed look. “I don’t have your preferred poison. Not many visitors of the undead variety.” The smile was everything coquettish. “Sorry.”
The vampire gave her painting a final look and turned to face the real life version. Or one of them, anyway. “No, thank you.” He really should get the clothes and leave. Giles was probably halfway to a coronary by now.
Cordelia nodded. “Again, what do you need?”
Clothes needed for the vampire version of the young woman stood right in front of him. Aw hell. It just occurred to Angel that he knew what was covered by her fluffy bathrobe. Flashes of gorgeous skin ran through his head and caused him to groan out loud. “Uh…”
Cordelia’s eyes rolled in exasperation. Men. “What size is she?”
Oh thank the heavens she misunderstood that groan. Replying, “Your size.”
The brunette nodded. If this girl was palling around with them, then skirts weren’t gonna cut it. “I have some pants and practical yet stylish tops. Does she need underwear?”
Angel paled. Did he look like he needed anymore imagery? “Yes, please.”
“Okay. So pants, tops, bra and panties. What size bra?” Cordelia blushed a little, her gaze unconsciously drifted down. She hoped this girl, whoever she was, hadn’t been at the back of the queue when breasts were given out.
Something inside Angel clenched tight, his hand wanted to rub away the uncomfortable ache forming between his thighs. His voice was husky when he spoke next. “Your size.” Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“That explains why you didn’t go to Buffy.” Her blush deepened to a hazy red.
He pretended not to notice the slight shake to her hands as she got what was requested.
Thirty minutes later saw the vampiress unnecessarily stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that. She knew there was nothing to see, but as they said, habits were hard to die. She still caught herself breathing sometimes.
Angelus comfortingly told her those quirks would fade after a few decades.
Cordelia craned her neck as far as it would go in an effort to see how her ass looked. These pants were really, really nice. They were a dark shade of red and were made from a luxurious form of material that simply spelled designer. The top was a pretty cream with thin straps and a hem that touched her waist.
Red and black. Angelus favourite colours. Not his favourite garments of course, skimpy pieces of nothing were more to his tastes when it came to her.
She had this one dress, if it could be called that, and it was a rich vibrant cerise. It was a babydoll and barely covered her ass. She didn’t wear it often. Certainly not around her sire. Heaven forbid he saw her in that.
He’d have a fit.
Angelus seemed to like it. If like could be described as being pinned, face down, on the bed and being fucked hard from behind then yes, he liked it very well indeed.
Again, thinking about her companion and sire sent a wave of longing crashing through her. She stared harder at the mirror, hoping for a miracle and she could see them through it. “Mirror, mirror on the wall…” Cordelia sighed and gave up on the hopeless venture.
They only existed in fairy tales about princesses and hell knew she was no princess. “Thank God for small mercies.” A princess wouldn’t last ten seconds in her world.
Voices from the living room brought the vampiress out of her reverie and she glanced in the direction of the door. That pig’s blood had nowhere near sated her hunger. She needed something with a bit more substance, like a cute guy with large muscles and convertible. Besides, she had someone to thank.
Cordelia knew that in order to get a decent bite, she’d have to get from under Rupert’s thumb. She wouldn’t have minded having a traditional English meal, but then her chances of getting home would drop to sub-zero. There had to be a way to get out.
Her eyes darted to the curtains blocking out the moonlit night and grinned. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.