PART 8
Cordelia had driven them back to the office that morning. Angel, tucked under a blanket to protect himself from the 11 am sun had hardly said a word. Gnawing her bottom lip as she navigated the light, post 9am rush, she decided to leave him to his brooding so she could do some of her own. All of the doubts and insecurities that had been melted to nothing by the heat of passion had come roaring back the second she’d opened her eyes.
Great timing, huh? Now, sitting behind her desk she was just grateful Wesley was off doing something else, because she didn’t feel up to pretending all was right in the Cordyverse. Did Angel regret their lovemaking? That was the crux of her problem. Somewhere between their first kiss; waking up to find he’d dragged himself; wounded no less, halfway across town to see her and falling asleep with her arms around him, Cordelia had realized she was in love with him.
“Geeze, is it too much to ask for a little reassurance, or enlightenment about how he feels about me?”
Three things happened at once to jolt her back from her own problems; the phone rang, the door opened and the clear sound of the elevator cage door being thrust back indicated Angel had returned to his office. Dithering for a few beats she finally jabbed the flashing line to answer the call and waved Detective Kate Lockley further inside the dim office.
It was Wesley on the phone. Angel stepped out of his office and she felt his brief look in her direction right down to her toes. Giving Wes half her attention she heard Angel politely ask Kate to come inside his office. It was the ‘where we won’t be disturbed’ part that burned her. What an Asshole!
“Cordelia, are you listening?” Wesley’s irritable voice sounded out of the receiver.
No! “Sure” she lied, glaring daggers at Angel’s closed office door, “You’ve made an appointment to see somebody. They won’t come into the office, because they have a vamp phobia so they’re coming to your place. Did I miss anything?”
“No, no- that’s the lot,” conceded Wesley with a hint of contrition. “You’ll let Angel know where I am?”
“If I see him- yeah,” Sarcasm was so often evident in her voice, Wes missed the new edge. That pissed her off even more. If you couldn’t trust your co-workers to spot when you weren’t happy then who could you? Would it hurt to just ask her if she was okay? “See ya later, Wes,” she finished on a sigh knowing she was being completely unreasonable. Hanging up she cupped her chin to stare glumly at the sun blazing beyond the screen of blinds.
It was Saturday morning. She shouldn’t even be here. Driving Angel safely back home was one thing, but why was she staying? Pensive fingers tapped a tattoo on the desk while the desktop’s screensaver bounced from one corner of the screen to another. Oblivious, Cordelia sat mired in thought.
Kate Lockley was pretty, blonde and blue-eyed, dedicated and earnest. The single time she’d met the detective, Cordy had felt her hackles rise within the space of a minute. She hadn’t bothered analysing why at the time and now she didn’t have to. When Kate walked in the office, she didn’t see anyone other than Angel, and that bugged the crap out of her. Cordelia was used to being noticed even when she didn’t want to be, but this wasn’t wounded vanity it was good ole’ fashioned jealousy. For the second time in her fairly short life, blonde save-the-world-gal was raising a blip on her inner radar.
A red mist rose as ire escalated. A hand slammed on the desk. “Okay, that does it. Ya know what, screw this. I shouldn’t be even worrying about this crap.” Logging off with a scowl and snatching up her purse, she stalked around the desk; tossing his closed door a fulminating glare on the way past.
“Geeze, whatever happened to waking up with a rosy glow and basking in the affections of a new lover. Breakfast in bed would have been nice. He can cook can’t he? Jackass!”
Angel’s door opened just as she yanked the outer office one open. Looking back with a scowl she saw Angel ushering Kate out. Seeing them together like that brought back an unwelcome memory of times past; him being tall and dark and her; short, blonde and badly dressed. The flashback brought with it a sick surge of anger.
She tamped it down. Okay, this is where I hang onto what pride I have left and just go.
Too late. Seeing his gaze bounce from her empty chair, to where she was standing by the door, Cordelia pasted on a fake smile to cover the grinding of her teeth, and said, “I could see you were busy, so thought I’d leave you guys to it. Three’s a crowd, right?”
Angel froze and Kate blinked as if seeing her for the first time. And this is a trained professional supposed to be protecting the community? Geeze, here’s me thinking actual detective work needs actual observation skills.. After hundreds of hours practising for auditions the smile didn’t slip even a tiny bit.
On the other side of the office, dark eyes flared and turned piercing. Cordelia suddenly felt as transparent as glass and she didn’t like it one little bit. Opening her mouth to say more, she thought better of it and went to sail frostily out of the office door.
“Cordelia, wait” demanded Angel firmly.
He may as well have just said Cordelia unload. “What for, you to get chatty and stop treating me like some kind of jackal woman?” She hadn’t meant to say it, she really, really hadn’t. Ah, who the hell cared?
Hip cocked, Cordelia crossed her arms and abandoned the casual façade. Every line of her body; from the top of glossy hair piled haphazardly onto the top of her head, right down to the horribly expensive open-toed sandals, screamed scathing.
Catching her drift, Angel stiffened and his eyes narrowed. “I think you mean Coyote woman and don’t be ridiculous.” His voice was soft with a warning that she let it go until they were alone.
Next to him, Kate was a picture of piggy-in-the-middle and looked ready to bolt with her wary glance ping-ponging between employee and employer. Cordelia almost felt sorry for her. The almost made all the difference. She was a big girl and besides she was just the audience. Angel was the true target.
Leaping to the conclusion Angel didn’t want Kate to know he’d boned his secretary; a bristling Cordelia went on the offensive. Slammed the door shut she let loose with both barrels. “Oh, so I’m being ridiculous now, huh? Pity you didn’t feel that way last night in bed and saved me the grief of quitting this dumb job.”
That scored. As if he’d been punched, Angel’s chin lifted in shock.
She wasn’t finished. Turning to Kate and arching a brow, Cordelia gave her a once over and smirked, “Word of warning, detective, don’t give up your day job to work for this jerk. He’s a typical guy with just enough smarts not to chase a girl around the desk…” Pausing she slid Angel an evil look before adding, “scratch that in fact-“
The hard hand snagging her elbow was unexpected because she hadn’t even seen him move. Hauled away at blurring speed, she heard a dark voice grind out somewhere over her head, “Kate, you’ll have to see yourself out. Close the door will you?”
The one to his office slammed behind them. “Hey!” she protested and yanked loose, massaging her elbow for show.
“You are unbelievable do you know that?” Angel grated.
“Look who’s talking, dumbass?” she retorted and breath quickening, refused to acknowledge the wariness draining her temper. Damn it, she hated it when that happened.
Opting not to push it, Angel perched on the edge of his desk, hands gripping the edge to stop them from wanting to grab hold and shake her. Her threat to quit had catapulted him right to the edge of his temper.
As calmly as possible he asked, “Want to tell what the hell was all that about?”
It would be so much less intimidating if he actually shouted. Angel never shouted and his softest voice could either give her chills or heat her blood. Now was not a good reminder of that. On the spot, she blurted, “You haven’t said ten words to me since we woke up, and then we get here and cop lady arrives all…sickeningly doe-eyed and there you are lapping it up. What do you expect me to think?” Even to her own ears it sounded borderline hysterical.
Taken aback, Angel focused on the last two since he had no excuse for the first. Crossing his arms he said, “Kate isn’t doe-eyed and I don’t lap anything up.”
Mirroring him, Cordelia crossed her arms, too; then replied snippily, “She is too, and it’s gross.”
Was Kate’s attraction so obvious? He hadn’t thought so. Confusion softened his face, but kept the frown in place, “I don’t think of Kate that way. Why would I?”
Arms uncrossing, she tossed up her hands, “Hello! Gung-ho blonde, your eternal temptation and don’t even try and deny it, Angel. I’ve seen it before, remember?” Despising the topic as much as she did, keeping still was impossible.
Pacing she sniped, “Thinking about it. I can’t believe you passed up the opportunity. Oh wait don’t tell me. You were mining the angst and thought I’d do as a stop-gap. Well think again, buddy-boy. I am nobody’s fill-in.”
Keeping track of her physically and mentally was dizzying. At a loss the frown dug deeper. “You aren’t a stop-gap and I don’t have a thing for blondes, gung-ho or otherwise.”
Halting, she ticked them off on her fingers, “Darla, Buffy, Kate-“
“Druscilla and a couple of hundred others weren’t. And in case you missed it the first time, I’m not interested in Kate.”
Distracted, Cordelia queried, “Hundreds?”
Angel didn’t bat a lash, “I’m nearly 250 years-old, Cordelia. I bust my cherry a long time ago.” The crudeness was deliberate, aimed at jolting her off her headlong flight towards deeper and sillier waters.
There was a heavy pause. “Great. So now I’m just the latest in a very long line.” Not even a little bit mollified, she growled, “I think I preferred the other idea.”
Angel pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was at the end of his patience. “Cordelia most of those were when I was Angelus and no, I’m not going into details. You’re not the latest in a long line if it’s just been– never mind. Can we move on?”
“Sure.” Flopping into a chair, she tacked on, “Angelus was a man-ho by the way.”
“I’ll let that one pass,” Angel lied, “Are we done with the jealous tantrum?”
Jealous tantrum? Denial was automatic and in the circumstances, jumbled, “Me-jealous? Are you… that’s so not true.” Pulling herself together, she tried again with a bluff, “Excuse me, I’m the one men get jealous over, not the other way around.”
A dark brow quirked, “What else would you call it?”
Cornered by her own sense of honesty, she squirmed. Crap! Did he have to make such an issue of it? Where was the gentleman when you needed him? “Yeah well,” Triumphantly she batted it back at him. “It’s your fault for giving me the morning after from hell.”
He’d given worse. Wincing, Angel relaxed his shoulders and jammed his hands in his pockets, aiming for laid-back, unthreatening and contrite. “You’re right. I know I did and I’m sorry for that…I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t exactly plan it you know. My love life has never been the stable and nurturing kind.”
“In case you were wondering.” Cordelia said, “You’re digging the hole deeper.”
It was the disappointment behind the sarcasm that got to him. Every day keeping his lies from her was getting harder and harder. The kiss hadn’t been his worst mistake. Keeping the truth from her got that honour. Pushing away from the desk and dropping his arms, Angel slowly closed the distance and refused to drop her gaze.
When he was stood close enough she had to tip up her chin to see him, he hunkered down and said low, “Not really. Think about it. I don’t normally lose control like that.”
She followed his line of reasoning but it wasn’t nearly enough. “I don’t want…Sorry, rephrasing, I refuse to be an itch you need to scratch. I want more than that, Angel. A lot more.”
“Last night wasn’t about my libido, Cordelia.” Sighing, Angel rose and catching a hand on the way, drew her up with him. “Look I wish I had the words to reassure you right now, but I don’t- not yet. When this case is over I swear I’ll make it up to you. Can you put it on trust until then?” Angel could only hope the intensity he was feeling; willing her to understand and accept, was reflected on his face.
It was and Cordelia was buffeted by conflicting emotions, chief among them was frustration and relief. He had to care about her to look at her like that, didn’t he? Not knowing for sure allowed frustration to edge ahead. Asking flat out if he loved her was tempting, but she discarded thinking it had to come without prompting.
“I might if I understood what the hell was going on here. What’s a case got to do with you and me?” Hazel eyes went wide as she connected the dots, “Is this something to do with last night and you getting all sliced’n’diced?”
A cool finger ghosted over her lips to shush her. “I’ll wrap this up as quickly as I can and then I’ll tell you everything. No holds barred.”
It was the best he could offer. This morning watching her sleep, he’d finally accepted that not telling her straight off had been a colossal mistake. But, confessing he loved her now would be a worse one, because after all the deception she’d throw it back in his face the second she found out about the heart. He’d been at a complete loss on what to say to her from the moment she’d woken.
What he was saying was enough to raise her suspicions anyway. A stiff finger poked him dead centre in the chest. “I don’t like this, Angel, I don’t like being kept in the dark,” she warned and tried not to let his unusually open expression melt her. It was hard, because when he wanted to his eyes turned from bitter brown to warm chocolate, thick enough to drown in.
“Why can’t you just tell me now and get it over with?”
“I would if I could, but I can’t. I have my reasons. Trust me,” he asked huskily.
Cordelia looked so wary and torn the urge to hold her, pull her in and wrap his arms around her was compulsive. So strong that Angel could feel her there already; her head tucked under his chin and dark silky strands tickling his neck. Knowing Cordelia, she’d try to pull away and he’d murmur soothing nothings in her ear until she softened and stopped resisting him. It was a tempting idea, but after last night he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t take her further down that road until everything was out in the open, it wasn’t right.
“Alright, but I still don’t like this and I’m going on record with that,” Cordelia finally conceded, adding with another stabbing finger, “And I better agree with those reasons or you are on my stink-list, buster.”
Angel smiled, he couldn’t help it. Conceding a little to appease both of them, he snagged the finger and after dropping a light kiss on it, ran his hands lightly up her bare arms, “Cordy, all I’m asking for is a few days, and them I’m all about us. You have my word,” Angel said sombrely.
Then tightening his hold a fraction, he moved the conversation on, “And since you brought it up earlier. I’m not letting you quit either, so get that idea out of your head.”
The diversion worked only because she let it. Tipping her chin higher to eye him squarely, she looked more than a little bit stubborn, “Really? I hate to break it to you and ruin your domineering boss act, but going off memory that isn’t actually a decision you can make, Angel.”
“I can be persuasive when I want to be, and if that doesn’t work unremitting stalking would soon wear you down.” His rare grin invited her to return it and hid the real purpose behind the casual warning. After the last 24 hours Angel had come to a simple conclusion. There was no way in hell Cordelia was disappearing out of his life. He was going to make this work.
London, England
The phone rang and rang. Just when he was convinced the call was going to be transferred to that blasted answer phone yet again, a woman answered. “Angel Investigations, we help the helpless.”
At bloody last! “Wesley Wyndham Pryce, please.”
“Sorry, he’s out, so’s Angel. I’m Cordelia Chase, can I take a message?”
Perky and approachable or not, if it wasn’t for the fact that time was getting on, he wouldn’t have even considered it. He was still reluctant. “My name is Theodore Georges. I’d like to leave a message for-“
She interrupted him, “Hold on let me grab a pen.” There was some rustling on the other end of the line, “Okay, got it, shoot.”
“Tell him, we’ve had a lot of trouble our end. It appears the murders of the potential Summer’s donor recipients all lead back here to some degree.”
“Donor recipients?” she asked sharply.
“Yes, the ritual removal of the hearts from the victims. The killers are searching for the living heart of a slayer. You have a client who was on the list is what Giles told me.”
Dead silence greeted that explanation. Then she said, “Right, I forgot. Please do go on. Believe me, I’m all ears.”
Fleetingly, he wondered at the new, acid edge to her voice. Pressing on, he said, “After Giles phoned me I searched the Council’s archives and found a copied remnant of a scroll detailing an ancient spell to remove a soul. The original of that scroll was given to Wolfram & Hart by our Director General,” pausing, Teddy sighed, “It’s a long story.”
“I bet.”
“I’m having our experts here draw up another in English from memory, meaning it will be sketchy and likely inaccurate, but it may help and since we feel partially responsible-“
“I get the picture. We don’t have a fax here.”
He frowned over the distance in her voice; doubting she even know what he was talking about? “I wouldn’t trust a document like this to a facsimile anyway.” Automatically checking his watch, Teddy informed her, “Given the urgency of the situation, I’m bringing it personally. I’ll be on the next flight out of Heathrow. I’ll be getting into LAX early tomorrow morning.” He didn’t mention he wouldn’t be alone.
“I’ll let him know. Thanks for the call, it’s been…enlightening.”
Abruptly the line went dead. It wasn’t that disconnection that had him going stiff though, but the second click that followed almost immediately afterwards. He sat frozen with the receiver still pressed to his ear; realising somebody had been listening into the conversation. The question was why? Not to mention it was eight thirty pm and the building was supposedly empty.
Leaving his office as stealthily as possible, he stood in the main hallway and stopped breathing, straining to listen for any telltale sounds. Only a few lights remained. Nothing triggered his alarms. Taking the stairs, Teddy descended as quickly as he could and thought back to that brief conversation. Worried all of a sudden that he’d inadvertently revealed something?
There were no lights lit on the first floor. Going on a hunch, he carried on down to reception and on the last flight heard a voice that could have been male or female, it was so hushed.
“Make sure you have the name right, its very important. Corr-de-lia Chase.
***
Pulled from unpleasant contemplation of his notes by the knock on his door, Wesley dropped his pen and snatching up the axe left next to his chair as a precaution, silently approached and checked the peep-hole. Expecting some kind of nuisance salesman trying to sell him yet another thigh-master, he was unprepared for an eyeful of irate Cordelia.
Fumbling with the locks, he opened the door wide and said, “Cordelia, I wasn’t expecting you. Is something up?”
“Depends on your definition of up, but yeah, you could say something’s definitely wrong.”
Turning from a brief unimpressed survey of the small sparsely furnished apartment, Cordelia levelled Wesley with a baleful stare. “I have a few questions and I want the truth, Wesley. I’ve had a bellyful of lying, already.”
She’d stumbled across something. Bloody hell now he was in for it. “Questions,” he queried lamely and felt his belly sink even further.
“I just took a call off some British guy. You might know him, Theodore somebody. Sounded like Watchers Council. He said something about a scroll, a spell and my personal favourite, Buffy Summers heart.”
She’d crossed her arms, which was never a good sign. For some reason he was far more unnerved facing this woman in a visibly wrathful mood, than the demons last night. During his short acquaintance with her, Cordelia had impressed him with a lot of things; including the foolishness of raising her ire.
Shutting the door, he quaked at refusing and tried some redirection instead. “Cordelia, you really should be talking to Angel about this. I’m not in a position to-“
“You’re not in a position to turn me down. I’m not leaving until you tell me what I want to know, Wes, so get used to the idea.”
“Angel-“
“Can kiss my ass,” she finished for him. “I want the whole skinny on this heart donor case.” The tone suggested the quicker the better for his health. “And you can start by telling me whether Angel and I meeting up again was one big set-up from the get-go.”
Was that pain? Wesley wondered before the flash of temper buried it in hazel depths. Stupid question, of course it was. He felt worse with the realisation that things had progressed between Cordelia and Angel more that he’d envisaged. Feeling compelled to offer some comfort, he said carefully, “Not initially, no.”
That small admission was the opening of the floodgates. “But soon…before I started working with you? She prodded almost unwillingly like it was an open wound.
Wesley nodded and this time he saw the longer flash of pain at the confirmation. Full lips twisted bitterly, “So, he did know about my heart transplant, and thinks I have Buffy’s?”
The change that knowledge wrought was startling. Face crumpling the grit and pride keeping her back stiff deserted her. When she spun away to stare sightlessly at the overflowing coffee table with its haphazard array of papers, journals and books, Wesley was almost glad to be able to dismiss the uncomfortable urge to offer a more tangible form of comfort. Patting shoulders consolingly was usually his limit. Hugs were an uncouth invasion of privacy in the Wyndham Pryce household. Knowing that was a load of bollocks didn’t make attempting something so alien any easier, unfortunately.
Caught up in a surge of guilt, he almost missed her mumbled, “I guess that explains a lot.”
It didn’t need explaining and very simply that did it. No matter Angel’s reasons for keeping her in the dark, Wesley would no longer stomach the situation. It would not help ease pride or pain, but being armed with the truth was the only thing he could give her.
Catching her elbow with as much solicitous care as he could muster, Wesley waved at an empty spot on the couch and said, “Sit down, Cordelia. I agree its past time you knew the truth. I promise I will tell all. No hold barred. It’s the least I can do.”
***
With the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up and collar loosened under the tie, Lindsay McDonald was the picture of a young executive working hard. The ear piece tucked into his left ear and mouth piece position in front of his lips meant he could prowl as he talked. Lindsay thrived on pressure, particularly when he was able to lift it.
“Yes sir. We have a lead on the name.” There was a pause as he listened, “I’m aware it’s taken a long time, but I guess you just can’t account for the incompetence of the hospital administration. The title was a typing error. C Chase is a woman, not a man. Her name is Cordelia Chase.”
Another pause and Lindsey poured himself some coffee as he listened attentively. The corners of his lips lifted in pleasure. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence in me. One of my contacts paid off, although I’m sorry to report that avenue has now been compromised. The Council is off limits as of my last conversation.”
Perched against his solid oak and streamlined modern desk, he took a sip of the bitter black brew he preferred, and eyed Lee observing him with detached interest from the chair. He got a kick out of knowing this little success was being witnessed by a peer. Peers are rivals at Wolfram & Hart. Smoothly he said, “Oh I agree it’s nice to be able to get back fully into the game. This part is crucial to our long-term plans and I assure you they will come to fruition.”
Kissing ass was an everyday chore at Wolfram & Hart no matter how high up the ladder you scrambled. Lee wasn’t fazed and listened a little enviously as Lindsay happily accepted a few more minutes of praise.
When the phone accessories were tossed on the desk, Lee met Lindsay’s grin and snapped off a zippy salute. “Well, two guesses whose office wonder-boy now.”
Lindsay’s grin twisted into a smirk. Rubbing a finger over his lips to try and disguise it, he aimed for business-like. “Holland wants us to move immediately to seize the girl. We already have a home address and I need you to look into any known contacts.”
“Sure, I’m on it. I love being blood hound. It’s in my blood.” When a star was rising, experience said grab on and use that momentum while it was still in an ascendancy. Lee was more than happy to help. He was the kind of guy that always backed the winning team, usually because he dropped a losing one.
Lindsay pushed away from his perch and got back to being busy again. “We have to move fast. This girl is walking around with the key to banishing Angel’s soul beating inside her chest. If he has a lick of sense he’ll kill her. Either that or the Watchers Council will arrange it. For obvious reasons we don’t want that to happen.”
***
Numb to her core, Cordelia hadn’t been able to face accepting a lift home from a concerned Wesley. Instead she’d taken the bus. Thanks to the route not being direct she’d ended up on three of the noisy and crowded things. The time should have given her a chance to get over the shock, only so far it was still refusing to dissipate. Knowing if it was anger or pain lurking beneath the anaesthetizing layer would have been nice. Give her a chance to prepare.
The pretty, brightly lit entrance to her apartment was the same as always. Knowing sanctuary from prying eyes was at hand, she let her mind return to lick the wounds the day had left. Thinking about Angel and the night before was agonising. So was thinking of Buffy and wondering hysterically if she really did have the slayers heart beating in her chest. The irony of it wasn’t lost on Cordelia. If it was true, then Buffy’s heart was the one driving life-giving blood through her veins.
Climbing the stairs and leaning heavily on the railing, she shook her head in repeated denial. That was the truly unbelievable part. Fate couldn’t be that cruel could it? Why her? Anyone else would have been better. They’d barely managed to declare a ceasefire even when she was dating Xander, one of Buffy’s little Scoobies. They’d all been wary of her, unable to believe the nastiest girl in Sunnydale history was tamed. They hadn’t been wrong.
Being a bitch hadn’t just been fun to her back in the bad old days of high-school, it had been a vocation. Comforting herself with the fact that she’d rarely lied didn’t really help, because from the moment she’d been old enough to understand social structure and her place in it, she’d used the truth as a weapon to hurt. Now faced with the truth of why Angel had seemed so drawn to her, Cordelia was hurting, too, and hated every second of it.
Cheated on and used by the Scoobies, ignored and then abandoned by her parents, homeless, destitute and thinking she was dying, and now this. When was the punishment going to end?
Reaching her door without seeing a single step, Cordelia rummaged in her purse for the keys and slid them in the lock. Twisting and pushing, she was left blankly staring when a desperate force shoved from the other side, closing the door in her face.
“What the…”
Trying again, the same thing happened. “Dennis!” she growled, not in the mood for games. Anger leaked to the surface. “Stop being an asshole and let me in.”
Then before she could try again another force slammed into the door from the other side, hard enough she yelped and stumbled back. The door opened as she fell back and something decidedly inhuman and scaly pushed through the gap, trying to widen the gap.
Heart beating sickeningly fast, Cordelia unfroze as Dennis managed to slam the door shut again, keeping the barrier between the demon and his mistress. Legs trembling, Cordelia didn’t wait to see if she’d been imagining things and took off down the hallway again, nearly falling over the banister as she careened around the corner and raced back down the stairs. Above her a splintering crash warned that her period of grace had run out.