CHAPTER TWO
It had only been a few days since the last time but he needed more. Hunger was a living thing in his dead body, gnawing from the inside out and screaming erratically in his head. It was simple; Angel had to feed or lose it completely and maybe do something he regretted.
Cordelia was asleep on the couch in his apartment, a pain in the ass when you’re trying to sneak out, but after a trial period it seemed he needed privacy more than she did courtesy of him being a vampire. As Cordy said… anything to keep him sane and non psycho-ey. At the time, not happy with that blunt statement Angel had pointed out they both meant the same thing, but Cordy had just shrugged and retorted; yeah well, that’s cos it goes double for you.
Angel was beginning to recognise a pattern, namely that he never won an argument with Cordelia unless he threatened her with something she considered icky.
Wesley was sleep upstairs on another couch a circumstance that combined sometimes had him dumbly shaking his head and wondering how the hell he, one time Scourge of Europe, had ended up playing house with two willing humans.
Now was one of those times, when he was forced to use every stealth tactic he knew to get out of his own place to go hunting, and all because he didn’t want them to know what he was reduced to doing. Despising himself was bad enough without facing it off them too.
***
Billy Nyan celebrated his tenth anniversary as a vampire in true Billy style. Meaning filled with pain that wasn’t his own and a viciousness that was bred to the bone. Gerry, his riding buddy was lying flat on the floor, boots off and feet up on the stone ledge ringing the fountain, wallowing in the drowsiness of overeating; content to just kick back and belch at the appropriate spaces.
Liquored up and feeling as if they owned the night they were enjoying a good old fashioned barbecue under a velvet night sky. Beside them the aridly dry fountain with its frolicking mermaids acted as a contrarily civilised backdrop, with the still smooth stone flags of Arcadia Square they’re tranquil garden beneath the bone white disc of the moon.
“Man, do I feel bloated or what? That last one was a bit overdone, maybe. I think I prefer ’em raw than barbecued.” The wine bottle tilted as Gerry took a swig, handing it over when Billy threw out a questing arm, fingers waggling in mute demand.
Grasping the relinquished bottle Billy poked at the fire, letting air between the lumps of charcoal to keep it hot and carelessly setting of tiny sparks to spatter over the bricks ringing the fiery mass. He shrugged, “We left her in too long is all. Lucky we didn’t kill her too soon. Dead’s useless.”
“Like us you mean?”
Settling with his back to the fountain Billy snorted and tossed Gerry a smirk, slurring a little as he retorted, “Speak for yourself, I ain’t useless,” the bottle was filled with a mixture of blood and whiskey, brought from a newly opened vamp speciality store down on Caesar Boulevard. It went down like ambrosia and Billy couldn’t help waxing lyrical about their changed un-life, “Hot damn, this is the life. The way it’s s’posed to be… no hiding what we are and what we do, just letting it all hang out.” The bottle’s contents swished as he swung it to give an encompassing wave.
“Yup, millennium bug has my vote,” then as sometimes happens Gerry was hit with a drunken wave of lucidness that lasted only long enough for him to turn his head and ask, “What do you think’ll happen if they fix it all, you know get the power back?”
“Never happen,” next to them the blackened bundle started to moan, a low despairing sound. Still deep in frowning thought and aggravated by the noise Billy picked up a boot and threw it at the tortured woman, snarling “Shaddap, I’m trying to think here- dumb fucking human. Jeeze, Ger, I thought you finished her off?”
Spreading his hands the still prone Gerry looked wounded, “I was full. Save her for later if she’s still alive.”
Before Billy could give an opinion on that suggestion a new voice intruded from the darkness outside the fire’s glow, sounding deep and chillingly assured, “I wouldn’t be making any plans for later if I were you.”
Both vampires found their feet before more than a few stunned seconds passed. Then staring with feral yellow eyes the pair stood tense and ready for action, minutely scanning the darkness. They didn’t have to search far before a tall leather-coated figure stepped into view from one side. Neither recognised him.
Footsteps echoed on the stone steps leading up to the small circular enclosure situated in the middle of the once pristine square. Taken aback and staring the pair tracked the stranger’s features searching hazy memories and coming up with nothing; dark hair slightly spiked and slashing brows dominating a hard human face. Confused by the sudden confrontation, Billy double-checked watching the stranger’s movements and scenting the air with delicate precision.
This guy was definitely not human. “Who the fuck are you?”
Chasing them down would be too much effort, Angel shrugged nonchalantly and kept his expression neutral wanting to keep their alarm to a minimum and emotions off-balance, “Who cares, what’s in a name? You don’t know me and anyway…”
Angel paused but kept on closing the distance until he was close enough to finish, “… I don’t need yours to kill you.”
There was a disbelieving pause as if the vampires were stumped to find there was a snake in their Garden of Eden after all. Hearing that deadly certain statement Gerry goggled then shared a look with the notoriously eruptible Billy, “Do you even know what we are? Or, are you just loco?”
“Shut-up, Gerry,” Billy murmured tilting his head to assess the newcomer, a cold light glinting in the amber depths of his vampire eyes, “if the guy wants to party who can blame him, I like to party too.”
“I can see that. Did your momma never teach you not to litter the place,” Angel asked his voice soft with detached amusement and using the mini debate to stroke his demon, coaxing it to the surface with the promise of a treat. It didn’t need so much coaxing these days.
The antique English gentleman’s cane was tucked out-of-sight behind his right leg. Made from sturdy mahogany and being ivory tipped on both ends of the double handled stick it made an innocuous yet brutal weapon in the right hands. Halting to stand with both legs braced Angel kept his body relaxed and still, emptying his mind of distracting clutter.
“Screw you,” Billy sneered, “I ate my momma,” he added boastfully, flexing brawny shoulders as he squared off.
“Original,” deadpanned Angel with a tip-tilted smile that didn’t reach shadowed dark eyes.
Gerry ignorant of the nature of the beast stalking them so subtly grinned evilly, recognising the signs and more than willing to throw down too. Greasy brown hair framed his vampire face as he shook his head playfully, “you’ve done it now, gone and pissed him off, shouldn’a done that, boy.”
Impetuous and arrogant they didn’t wait to assess the danger further but charged him as one, their bellowing rush timed perfectly to coincide with one another. Gerry dived to the left, in a dizzingly quick semicircle bent at the waist to make a smaller target and aiming for the middle torso while Billy went on the right, leaping high to catch the newcomer’s head in a brutal lock.
This multi-angled attack normally wrought confusion and deadly hesitation in their opponents and their confidence was recklessly high. Billy didn’t see the cane only felt it when it was whipped up and across his brow exploding above vulnerable ridged eyes.
Angel lashed the cane down in time to catch the second vamp with the downswing, shattering a cheekbone as it connected with a uniquely audible fleshy crack. Spraying enraged spittle Billy recovered first and howling madly lunged with hooked fingers, fangs snapping. Rage and momentum only took Billy so far for the first time in a decade and Angel side stepped using one hand to swing the cane up, easily deflecting the reaching arms and breaking one in the process.
Routed with debilitating speed, Gerry was left rolling on the stone flags gibbering at the pain and holding a hand to his shattered cheekbone. A few feet away and hugging his injured limb Billy looked into the interloper’s face seeing clearly for the first time the cold deadly purpose staring back at him then mourned the red mist of bloodlust as it abruptly drained with the realisation that this stranger was far more deadly than they’re viciousness combined.
“What the fuck are you?” he asked dumbly afraid. Not human that’s for sure.
By now a wary Billy was backing away as the tall stranger advanced with a slow steady tread, “You’ll find out,” was the cryptic reply before one black arm swung back, knee’s bending to deliver a crippling blow to Billy’s left knee as the retreating vampire whirled to make his escape. It caught him, sending him sprawling with the bottom half of the leg resting at an odd angle while his agonised scream rent the square.
Spinning on one heel Angel caught Gerry trying to sneak up behind him with a graceful arcing kick that had the vampire staggering back then laid him out again with a roundhouse punch. Satisfied his prey was staying put for a while Angel turned back to the other one, tossing back a short, “I’ll get to you in a minute,” Gerry too out of it to understand simply groaned.
Less than a minute later and with the fledglings defeated without getting in a single blow of their own, their nemesis set about satiating the hunger that drove him. Gerry was first with Billy lying broken and helpless, agonisingly aware he was next; shuddering and watching as Angel vamped out to sink razor sharp fangs into the young vampire’s throat, draining him of what blood remained inside a demonically charged body.
When he got round to him Billy was barely conscious, but was able to ask the one question spinning around his pain-wracked head, “Don’t get it… Why vamp on vamp? … loadsa food.”
Angel didn’t have to think as he hunkered down, “Not for me.”
Finished, Angel rose from his knees to stare dispassionately down at the sunken face of the monster he’d fed off. Then leisurely reaching inside his duster he withdraw the ornately carved wooden stake for the second time and stabbed it deep into Billy’s chest, sending him off in a cloud of dust.
Standing to his full height all he could think was that it was barely enough and despair clouded Angel’s mind. Vampire blood was already half bled of the nutrients he needed; a poor substitute even for the vile pigs blood he used to just about tolerate. For now he got by day by day, but he didn’t know how long he could go on like this.
A low moan interrupted his hopeless thoughts and had him swallowing convulsively as the smell of old fear; burnt flesh and encrusted blood teased his nostrils. Oh God, how much of this was he supposed to take? When was enough, enough? Dragging feet took him over to the bundle wrapped in charred tarpaulin.
Puffing out an unnecessary breath, Angel reached down and tried to pull back the edges stopping when the blackened bundle gave a pained guttural moan. No matter, it was enough to see the burnt, blistered remains of a middle-aged blonde who not so long ago may have been attractive and enjoying the freedom of later life before age truly set in. Now she was little more than a corpse waiting to happen.
With intensive hospital treatment she would die later, without it she was perhaps minutes away from slipping off. Assailed with blood hunger Angel clenched his fists, swallowing hard as drool pooled in a mouth tingling with the urge to get close, closer and closer until…
Hauling it back Angel knelt down besides her, struggling not to let his demon slip its leash and whispered, “I’m sorry.” Sorry for what he wasn’t sure, wanting to finish her off, maybe. How to comfort someone who’s been this horrifically tortured and who, if they have any sense left, knows they’re dying. Should he lie and say she’s gonna be okay?
“They’re gone,” he offered instead, “and can’t hurt you anymore. I promise.” And he wouldn’t either Angel added silently to himself, more of a desperate command really.
The woman’s breathing got laboured, rattling in her chest with a last spell of consciousness before her soul gave up, “hurts… fire… why?” The last was said on a sob and Angel realized she was remembering the pain rather than feeling it.
Because vampires being demons feed on pain, anguish and terror every bit as much as blood; he couldn’t answer her. Falling silent Angel ducked his head looking anywhere but at her, part of his guilt was that he hadn’t done what he had to save her. He’d done it to save himself. Self-loathing rose up to choke him.
Nothing changes no matter how I try. I still am and always will be a mindlessly driven fiend. Why do I keep letting myself believe Cordy when she tells me I have a purpose, only to find out I don’t. Nothing ever really changes.
“They’re coming again; I can hear them,” mindless terror filled the woman’s voice and Angel rushed to reassure her, uselessly as it turned out. The synapses in her brain were going haywire with the physical body breaking down. Her, “oh please, please please,” drilled into his head and he saw tears drop down from her eyes in a mostly unmarred head. The vamps hadn’t wanted the neck burnt to a crisp.
“I killed them, they can’t hurt you.” Angel told her roughly closing his eyes and dropping back his head to try and clear the thickening fog of temptation, starting with a jolt when a hand latched on his arm.
“You do it. I don’t want to be here anymore,” she whispered in a rasp struggling to focus on him and speak as her lungs started to give up, juddering in a chest that would no longer rise to allow air in. Her last struggle in this life would be to die unless he was willing to help her.
Dumbstruck Angel stared, thinking only that he must have heard her wrong and that hoarse please was nothing more than his own wishes being transferred from one side of his starving brain to another. A trick sort of, “What did you say?” he asked low and incredulous.
“Please… kill… me.”
She must have seen him kill the others, “I can’t… you don’t know what you’re asking.”
Jerkily Angel tried to yank his gaze away, but dark eyes filled with sorrowful needs of their own wouldn’t leave her face. Inside, hope and hunger clashed then clung to rake and hiss at the weeping soul. Later he would think of this inner battle being the worst since arriving as a newly ensouled vampire on the dark, damp shores of New York at the turn of the century.
She wants me to do it, so why not.
Dying or not it doesn’t give you an excuse.
I won’t hurt her and she doesn’t need it anymore but I do, dammit. God help me I need it.
Don’t do this, if you give in now the next time will be so much harder. Resist, or her face will haunt you every bit as much as the others.
Lost to it all Angel was only dimly aware that he’d unhooked the hand from his arm to raise it up and it was the faint smell of blood and the painfully, slow mere echo of a pulse that finally drew his unfocused his mind to it. It made no difference as pain and a howling soul were drowned out by the insistent throbbing chant of pure dumb need.
Face silently changing with a ripple and no growl his fangs pierced then slipped into soft flesh, unerringly seeking the best channel for that dreadfully sluggish flow.
***
Me again, future me that is. Just wanna make something clear here…
Angel can be the most aggravating pain in the ass ever and there are times when I wonder why I stick around. For example, there I’ll be sitting at my desk maybe and he’ll come striding in, slamming back the elevator cage as if he had a personal grudge and riding a black cloud of tension to storm into his office without so much a howdy, morning or where’s my coffee.
As a way of infecting everybody else with his surly bad mood it’s unbeatable and pretty much instant. Leaving me in his wake, standing there hands on hips, mouth open and shaking my head wishing I’d stayed in bed and not frickin’ bothered.
Do I really need this? I’d ask myself; …um, hole and head ringing any bells? Duh, of course I don’t, do I look insane?
It gets better. If I’m in the right mood I’ll snap back and he’ll bite and so it goes on and on and on. Jeeze, he’s worse than Xander for sulking; only a heckova lot scarier when he’s doing it, what with the whole black on black thing he’s got going and I’m not talking about the clothes, that’s another story.
So, why do I stay? Good question, it’s not for the benefits package that’s for sure cos, hello, there isn’t one. Okay, so is it the work, you know job satisfaction and all that crap? Ugh, get real… I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve been truly, sincerely thanked by the people we save, lamebrains.
So that leaves pretty much the people, Wesley and the surly meister of brood himself. Hah, contradiction in terms much? Maybe, but… and it’s a bigger but than I would have ever believed before coming to LA, for every time he has me spitting mad and aching to bury a mop-handle in his chest there are those eureka moments where I’ll remember that he’s my friend and not just my pain-in-the-butt boss.
Never used to be that way, in fact time was I couldn’t wait to shutdown and get out, sloughing him and the dreary office off like a constricting disguise with nothing more than a careless shrug. Didn’t last long though, he has this way of making you care about him, and yourself, without actually trying too- dammit.
During a good moment I think of him as a sorta, ya know, addict or something. Not that I’ve mentioned that to him since well, I kinda like my head where it is. But, can you picture it? Angel, tall and big in all the right places, I’ve seen him nearly naked and trust me he’s seriously ripped, being helpless about anything? But that’s the point- he is. I figured him out ages ago. Angel doesn’t hide away because he’s afraid he’ll lose it and start chomping, or not so much. He’s afraid we’ll all see how easily the need to do it drives him nuts. Guh, men!
He acts all hero-ey, saves people from their worst nightmares night after night and then comes home moping about how he’s not doing enough and that’ll never be enough, blah blah blah. Actually, I get that, contrary to popular opinion I’m not some dumb air head with a pom-pom constantly stuck up my ass. I was Queen of Mean for a reason and no one’s more surprised than me that the King of Brood and I get along- sort of… most of the time.
Basically, I understand Angel, in fact to me he’s an open book and the thing I love most is that he can’t figure me out for the unlife of him. Just the way I like it. Keeps ’em on their toes.
Anyway, so there I am standing watching Angel make mincemeat out of a pair of vamps without him knowing it when he goes and does the unthinkable! Yup, starts chowing down on a victim. Oh crap and double crap, now what the hell am I supposed to do…?
***
Torn, Cordelia stood frozen feeling leaden while conflicting thoughts raced like quicksilver through her mind. Shout out or stay quiet and back away, two simple choices with not great consequences whichever way she went. One half was terrified of what tasting human blood again might do to his self-control, selfish maybe but true.
While the other half faced brutal reality and the fact that the woman was as good as dead, wanted him to do it and he needed it.
Guilt was a bitch too and the painful truth she’d been hiding from herself was suddenly sitting on Cordelia’s shoulder grinning evilly. She’d let him get away with hiding the fact that his blood supply was gone, choosing instead to believe Angel’s dumb lies rather than face stark reality and then try to find a solution that didn’t exist anymore. Ain’t denial great- not. Whoo boy, she was never sticking her head in the sand about anything ever, ever again.
One baby step at a time Cordelia backed away, never taking her eyes off him. The fact that she could, scared the crap out of her too, that Angel would ever be so engrossed to not know she was there, when normally she couldn’t open an eyelid without him complaining she was making too much noise when he was sleeping. Heart pounding she cringed when he dropped the arm and lifted his head, dark hair facing her as he stared in the opposite direction. Don’t turn around, Angel, please!
Someone wasn’t listening and his head whipped around to pin her with unreadable brown eyes. Halting, Cordelia swallowed and tried a nervous smile, “Angel, wow, fancy seeing you here. I’ve just arrived and-,” damn that didn’t work. His eyes narrowed into slits as he stiffly rose to stand and eye her brightly coloured hot-pants and tunic-top as if they were peacock feathers at a funeral.
She’d seen it; he could see it on her face. Angel’s lips tightened with a hot rush of temper, “What are you doing here, Cordelia?” Sheesh, could he get anymore gravelly?
Fury bubbled inside him mostly directed as himself but there was more than enough leftover for her. As he watched her expressive eyes skitter all over except for him. Those hazel eyes never looked at him directly once he’d turned to confront her. So, she couldn’t even look at him now. Resentment swamped him. It was just like Buffy all over again… Angel was being a bad vamp and needed punishing again. Bitter rage had his teeth grinding while he waited for her pitiful excuses.
“Would you believe… fresh air?” Angel didn’t reply just looked at her without expression, darn, “no? well okay then…”
The problem with Cordy and nerves was they made her angry. The problem with her temper and Angel was it made her defensive, like now. Cordelia closed her eyes gathered her courage and opened them to glare right at him, “How about I was following you to see why you were sneaking off like that and boy…! Am I glad I did.” If he wanted the truth then that was what he was gonna get.
Her temper stoked his to hotter bringing with it the added twist of scalding shame. He hid it well, stepping over the now dead woman to prowl closer, “Liked what you saw, did you?” That soft tone always reminded Cordelia of Angelus, a good enough reason to hate it with a passion.
Tossing her hair, Cordy planted one hand firmly on a hip before quirking a sardonic brow, “Sure, what’s not to like?” her free hand swept over the miniscule remains of Billy and Gerry before clashing gazes with him again, “You have your vamp showdown or maybe I mean chow down and then as an encore,” Angel stiffened glaring and daring her to bring it up, yeah right, like that ever stopped her, “the kiss of a death to a dying woman. Gee, can’t you tell I’m impressed?” her voice shook a little but Cordelia held her ground, tilting her chin stubbornly.
Unbelievable, no one since Drusilla had so recklessly pushed him. Only Cordelia wasn’t mad; she was just Cordelia. It was a case of strangle her or get going, choosing the safer none hands-on approach, Angel stalked stiffly over to the cane lying abandoned on the floor, bending bent down to swipe it up with every move rigidly furious.
So Cordelia despised him now, so be it. That made everything so much easier Angel lied to himself. Maybe now he could make some headway in getting over the urge to treat her with kid gloves.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Cordelia. Get moving we’re going back,” Angel growled at her as he passed by obviously expecting her to follow him to just like that.
Cordy goggled at his swiftly moving back and the second hand anchored itself on a rounded curve of a hip. Uh, no way was he getting away without talking to her. “Well I do want to talk about it, Angel, and I’m not going anywhere until we sort this out.”
Halting Angel spun on his heel, smiting her with his eyes, “There’s nothing to sort out. I’m not your pet, Cordelia. I don’t need anything from you except for you to do as your damn well told.” He didn’t need her to like him or … care. Angel left that to the humans and the pressure in his chest was just aggravation nothing more.
Her eyes narrowed to slits at the tone, “Still not moving.”
With a final fuming glare hot enough to singe Angel shrugged and turning strode away, “Fine, stay there and get yourself killed then.”
One, two, three, four … Cordy counted to twelve before she was confronted with a seething vampire and her eyes widened seeing he was in full fang face. “Do you have a death wish?” Angel growled low crowding her deliberately.
“No,” she muttered defensively crossing her arms. He was standing way to close for comfort. Cordy refrained from rolling her eyes. Gotta love his predictability, should she tell him short of Angelus his intimidating her was next to impossible by now.
“Then what the hell are you doing standing here in the middle of a demon infested city all alone. In fact, while were on the topic you could have gotten yourself killed just following me.” Angel roared fists clenched with frustration seeing the lack of fear in her eyes. Why could he never get through to this woman that he wasn’t some snot-nosed kid she could wrap around her little finger?
She hadn’t even thought of that, but it hadn’t happened so it was irrelevant and Cordy dismissed it. Besides there was a tickle of recognition at the back of her mind bugging the crap out of her then it hit her. This reminded her eerily of yesterday and how she’d reacted after getting caught crying in the shower. Oh lord, he was using anger as a shield to hide the fact he was ashamed.
As revelations go it wasn’t exactly a shocker on the genius scale but still it was worth a shot. Time to change tactics from aggressive to understanding mode. Cordy’s expression softened, “Look, I’m not judging you for what you did here, not saying it’s right either, but being a team means not lying to your friends. Angel, you should have told us you were starving.”
Caught out and taken aback Angel found himself stepping away, shaking his head resignedly as his face melted back into its human visage, “Why, what good would it do? You can’t do anything about it.” Besides he’d been sure she couldn’t handle it.
Just like her and the visions, Cordelia sighed heavily settling quelling eyes on his averted face. “Yeah well, I found out anyway so what good did lying do?” So what if that went for both of them she wasn’t going to potentially turn into killer-gal if she didn’t get any pain relief. Not yet anyway.
Understanding was the last thing he’d expected, Angel flicked a wary look up at her face. Was she for real? Where were the hysterics, or was she saving it for later when his defences where down? She looked normal, fed-up but normal, he shrugged broad shoulders, “I don’t know, nothing I guess.”
Angel was calmer and she now knew what his deal was; it was a start. “C’mon broody-boy, let’s go home before I get spotted as haute cuisine or something.” Snagging an arm she forced him to walk with her which he did falling into step beside her.
Angel was confused to put it mildly, “That’s it, no-“
Cordy interrupted, “Big blue doe eyes teary with accusation and disappointment followed by weeks of silent recrimination and being shoved to one side? Nah, can’t be bothered but…” she turned to face him, pinning him with an arch stare, “If I hear about you feeding of a human again no matter how-“
“I won’t be,” now it was Angel’s turn to interrupt with a small helpless smile tugging at his lips hearing the stern warning tone. All that was missing was the poking finger, “and I have one for you. Next time you try wandering the streets alone at night I won’t be so easygoing about it, clear?”
Pfft, when he was ever easy going? “As crystal, bossy-boots. Who’d want to anyway? These shoes are killing me chasing after you for the last hour.”
***
Wesley was looking glazed, and to be blunt he was feeling it too. “Mr Nabbit… David, I assure you that my employer will return soon. I assumed he was downstairs but obviously he had pressing business to, erm, take care-” Wesley faltered and came to a stop knowing it was, as Cordy would call it, lame. Where the devil we’re they?
After an hour of trying to keep the rather excitable young man before him calm the Englishman was frazzled and seriously displeased, although he kept that to himself. Inside he was seething though and determined to make a stand about being kept out of whatever loop necessitated Angel’s leaving with no message or anything to indicate when he might return. Unacceptable.
He only hoped Cordelia was with him or fireworks on the vampires return was guaranteed. David Nabbit was sweating, mildly irritable for someone of his placid nature and reminded Wesley of one of the nervier rabbits of Watership Down. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for some green fields, blue skies and problems no bigger than a stupidly arrogant farm cat or a megalomaniacal general grown too long in the tooth.
Dragging his groggy mind back to the late night visitor currently gracing his rumpled bed turned couch Wesley rubbed a hand over his short dark hair, trying to rub some sense of control back into it. Squabbling voices from outside the office windows offered him a suggestion that relief was at hand- finally.
Angel and Cordelia having spotted the lighted candles from the street decided to face the music rather than let Wesley stew and sneak in the back way. “Hey, Wesley, look I know we must have given you a surprise and all with us both… Oh, Hi who are you?”
Angel had to gently remove her from his line of sight to the see the little man sitting scrunched up on the office couch clutching a battered grey plastic laptop case. A searching glance at Wes garnered an eloquent roll of blue eyes. Wesley was looking stoic and forbearing meaning even his patience was severely stretched.
“This is David Nabbit, one time billionaire and computer whiz. He says he has a cure for the Millennium bug,” announced Wesley hands behind his striped pyjama clad back, deliberately not giving any warning as a petty revenge for being lumbered with him so unexpectedly.
There was a speaking pause as that sunk in, predictably Cordelia spoke up first, confusion clearing to mild sarcasm, “Cool, pity it’s like over a month too late, but hey, better late then never so they say.”
“Um, that would be millionaire actually and yes, Ms Chase is it?” Cordy nodded raising comic brows when Nabbit looked everywhere but straight at her, “I know I’m kind late but then it all caught me by surprise too.”
That touched a nerve. Where were the nerds when they’d needed them the most? God, she’d been tripping over them in high-school and then when it was their turn to save the day the world went to hell. “The millennium bug? Yeah right, what planet were you on? It was all over the news and boy did they get it wrong, huh? So much for passing without a hitch.” Bitterness was rife in the acid scorn.
Finally connecting with a hot glare Nabbit shifted restlessly on the old sagging couch cushions, “No, I mean the virus that wiped out all the work that been done to fix it. The one Wolfram and Hart paid a demon called Gundry to create for them.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
“You’re kidding?” asked Cordelia.
Nabbit shook his head darting a look at the dark intimidating figure that dominated the room despite his watchful silence. Careless of Angel’s affect on their visitor Cordelia threw up her hands, “Dammit, I knew there was a reason I hated those guys but… ugh, this takes the cake and the icing,” she fumed starting to pace.
“I think you mean the biscuit?” Wesley inserted helpfully if absently.
“Whatever.”
“Wolfram and Hart paid a demon to help them set back the world a thousand years?” asked Angel seeking clarification as the urge to commit violence, preferably on lawyers, spiked. The hand braced on the wooden rail separating the tiny reception from the office went white knuckled the only physical sign of his feelings on hearing that.
Sensitive to the atmosphere David Nabbit shook his head then nodded, looking bemused and more than a little unnerved, “Well I don’t know about… well, maybe- possibly. All I heard was that Gundry created a virus specific to Microsoft who had produced all operating systems since 1998 to be compliant,” as he went on his voice got stronger focusing on his beloved topic, “But the virus changed it all. It even went out as an automatic update and they didn’t spot it in time.”
“So that’s why?” Wesley intoned in disbelief backing away in disbelief to perch a hip on Cordy’s desk, “It’s so simple but it explains a lot.”
“Yeah, like how we should let Angel kill them at the next opportunity. Who needs mercy with scum like that?”
“Cordelia!” Wesley was shocked.
Over by the useless coffee pot and flipping dark strands out of her face Cordy retorted, “What? I work for a bloodsucking fiend. I’m contractually obliged to be blood thirsty.”
“I think it’s a good idea.”
“See…,” Cordelia smiled triumphantly until it sank in and she whirled to level a wide eyed stare at Angel behind her, “You do?”
“Maybe not the killing, but definitely worth a visit.”