CHAPTER 5
The temple’s white on white look was a blinding if effective backdrop for its caretakers, the strikingly adorned oracles. God knows setting the stage can be everything, thought Cordelia passing a cynical eye over the woman, trying to get a handle on the opposition to start working out some angles. She had limited success considering it only took a single glance to tell they had nothing in common.
Sheesh, talk about your Greek revival, black ringlets set in an elaborate coronet and gold painted skin turned the huge blue eyes mesmerising. If you were into that kinda thing.
“I’m guessing you know why am here. So, I’ll get to the point, I want it changed back the way it was.”
The oracle didn’t let her finish before starting to shake her head, “Impossible, the choice is made and cannot be reversed.”
Predictable much? Cordelia crossed both arms over her designer retro peach and black print blouse then arched a brow. “Maybe, but I didn’t make that choice and since it involves me, I think I should have been consulted, y’know,” she responded equally cool and composed.
The oracle gave a small shrug, moving off to walk gracefully to the centre of the temple. “What you think doesn’t matter, lower being, the vampire chose for you. Be content that your life means more to him than a permanent soul.”
A wave of one bejewelled hand produced an opaque cloud between them, but a stunned Cordelia was too engrossed in what had just been dropped into the conversation to give it more than a passing frown. “A what? Did you say permanent soul, as in no more Angelus or worrying about stray happy moments?”
The question was rhetorical. Then Angel appeared in the circle and dumbly Cordelia realised she was seeing a replay of his last visit here. Jaw dropped in disbelief she watched as he casually threw away the chance to remove the threat of his unsouled self.
Soon the mystical cloud disappeared and the oracle raised her hands, miming helplessness. “That was the choice, your visions or his soul. He chose to remove the visions.”
Noble but unbelievably stupid. Unable to stay still with the mixed bag of emotions knowing that unleashed in her, Cordelia did what she did best and started to pace with enough energy to light a city, chiffon skirt swirling about tanned legs; exclaiming as she did, “God, I don’t believe that guy. I mean, how clueless can you get?”
Heels clacking stridently in the normally hushed antechamber, Cordelia shook her head slowly sending the heavy ponytail swaying. She hated this. It drove her crazy the way he was always willing to save everyone else but refused to save himself. Didn’t the dumbass realise how much safer the world was when Angelus was securely caged? Think, Cordelia, think!
Resolved to finding a way to fix this mess, she halted and swung back, “Okay, lemme get this straight, would Angel’s blood keep my head from going kaplooey with the visions, or not?”
After watching her give vent to such utterly human and useless emotions, the oracle sighed impatiently and shook her dark head, “You speak in riddles, what does it matter, the visions are gone?”
Annoyed, Cordelia threw up a hand, “Duh! I know that. Just follow my lead on this one, okay- woman to woman.” The last was said with an edge of irony she couldn’t’ resist before prodding irritably, “So, would it?”
Pushed she admitted with marked reluctance, “It would, yes. The demon blood in you would continue to repair any damage sustained.”
Good to know, and now at least they were getting somewhere. Mollified, Cordelia pulled a face, happy to be impressed about something for change. “Cool, sorta semi-immortal only without the blood-lust and sunlight allergy, right?”
Clasping her hands in front by her pelvis the oracle adopted a reproving face, “You are still mortal, but any injury will heal quicker and natural disease cannot touch you.”
Better and better. God, this was so simple. Why was it everyone insisted on making everything more complicated than it had to be? Maybe living a couple of centuries wasted a few brain cells. Cordelia shrugged, “So, just gimme back the visions and we’ll pretend this whole thing never happened.”
Patience visibly stretched to the limit the oracle sighed before answering slowly as if speaking to a child. “I cannot undo what is done. Why are you fighting this, human, you didn’t even want the visions?”
Hiding a wince since that was undisputable; Cordelia dismissed it with a hurried wave. “So, I changed my mind, go figure. I do that sometimes.”
Uncomfortable, she prayed the oracle would simply accept the brush-off. How was she supposed to explain something she didn’t fully understand herself? Pared down to the basics she wanted to be an integral part of Angel’s mission and Girl Friday simply didn’t cut it anymore.
Knowing she worked better when she moved, Cordelia started off again, only without the frenzied pace, “Look, I get that Angel has already made a deal with you guys, but think about it for a minute. It’s a win-win sitch for you if he can’t go bad and I still have the visions.”
“Irrelevant.”
Frustrated, Cordelia wanted to slap her. Not a good idea. The trouble was finding a way of climbing inside the head of these guys, so you can figure out what twisted logic they were using and get what you want. She stopped and closed her eyes for a moment, reaching for patience.
“Not enough for you, huh? Okay, how about it’ll save all that hunting around for a new victim. Face it, it’s not as if there’s many Doyle’s floating around and I think we both know Angel’ll go nuts if he has to have another human hanging around. Trust me, he and crowds don’t mix.”
Silence reigned and those inhuman eyes didn’t blink once.
Throwing up her hands in exasperation Cordelia finally lost all patience of her own and exploded, “Just tell me what’s it gonna take, already?”
“I can’t give you the visions as they were. That link is broken and your destiny irrevocably changed.” Large blue eyes stayed locked on hers.
Being much smarter than she liked people to realise, Cordelia recognised and zeroed in on the slight change of tone. “Fine, give them to me another way then. That can’t be the only link the PTB’s have between us and them. Geeze, I’m *asking* here, you can’t tell me you guys get an offer like that often. Hello, gift horse and mouth?”
Painted lips quirked a little at the blunt truth in that tossed out statement, “There are not so many willing to direct a being that was once a vile demon, even one seeking redemption.”
Tense, Cordelia held her breath; she wasn’t sure but there was a definite change in the atmosphere. Crossing her fingers she kept her tone light and quipped “Look harder, his résumé’s good,” then added with an eye roll, “I’ll even referee for God’s sake.”
Not used to playing these sly games the oracle wasn’t certain if the time was right to play her hand. The silence lengthened before she gave into the urge to finish it. “Since you insist I may have an alternative source, perhaps even one much closer to home too.”
A squadron of butterflies took off in Cordelia’s belly. “Sounds good to me, do we have a deal then?”
Head inclining slowly the oracle nodded, hiding her own relief, “We do.”
Satisfied, Cordelia went to leave then turned back, shocked at herself for nearly forgetting, Oops! “Wait, what about Angel’s soul?”
“What about it?”
God, did these guys need *everything* spelled out? “With me still getting the visions, does he get a permanent one?”
The oracle looked resigned, “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
Cordelia wasn’t fazed, “So, I’m making it and don’t pretend I’m not doing you a huge favour.” Both brows rose, making it clear Cordelia knew she’d been played.
***
As soon as she was finally alone the female oracle felt a rush of displaced air and didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. Concern, relief and antipathy were an uncomfortable mix. Only the knowledge that she could now return to her passive role sustained her.
She turned. “It is done and she who would return must now find another vessel.” Formality was evident in every stilted word.
The voice that answered was as light as a dove but male for all its simplicity, “If there is another vessel she will find it. Of that you may be certain, but at least she will not have direct access to a champion.” He was made almost entirely of light; soft, muted and peaceful.
The female went to respond, but the male forestalled her, “The Nyazian prophesy is already changing and the writing fades now the souled vampire will no longer produce a miracle child. From that we are satisfied.”
A fourth shrouded and cowled figure stepped closer, drawing their reluctant attention. His mere presence added a heavy expectant air to the temple. Desecration did not necessarily need more than that. When he spoke the foul rasp had them instinctively stiffening with defensive distaste, “I concur and so our truce is at an end. If the threat returns then we will talk again.”
***
Gunn was feeling restless. He was itching to get back to his gang but despite that didn’t make a move to leave. What kept him there was the nerdy Nabbit, and the stuff he’d told him while the other two were closed up in the bedroom with the Lazarus chick. Now *that* was creepy, talk about a fast recovery.
Going back in time. He’d thought that stuff was pure science fiction but was willing to change his mind. After all, how many people were convinced there were no demons in the world? His philosophy was simple, the world was full of shit and more than half of it was scientifically impossible.
The kitchen was neat and clean and illuminated by a pair of quaint hurricane lamps, but the wariness of living on the streets refused to let him relax. One good thing, at least the vamp was snoozing now and he didn’t have to watch his back the same. The English guy was slowly driving Gunn crazy though, so he still had to be careful to keep a lid on his temper to keep it from blowing up.
Occasionally it leaked through. “Watcha watchin’ the door for, man? Chill, its daylight, meaning the worst of the bumping uglies are catching some shut-eye, like your boss.” The jerk of a round dark head towards Angel’s closed bedroom door coupled with the sneer made it plain who he was referring to.
Stiffening, Wesley levelled a quelling glance over the rims of his glasses as he slowly swivelled his head away from the door. “Cordelia has been through a lot, so excuse me for having concern for her welfare.” He replied frostily.
“Yeah, man, whatever,” Gunn shrugged and got back to scrutinising the rough diagram David Nabbit was drawing to explain how he thought the time machine might work. Not that he understood above three words strung together but it was a potential plan to get the world back to what it should be. Call him interested.
Unbidden, Wesley’s worried gaze wandered back to the door. He’d advised very strongly against Cordelia going out at all, but as per usual she hadn’t paid him the slightest notice. Worse still she’d refused point blank to tell him where she was going.
Her accusation of him being incapable of standing up to Angel if it came to it still stung, only more so because he couldn’t really refute it. Behind the wire frames of his spectacles Wesley’s thoughts circled, prodding and poking at the sticky problem of what to do and say when your two closest friends and comrade-in-arms start a pitch battle right in front of you.
Should he have taken Cordelia’s side when she ranted that Angel had no right to interfere and make arbitrary decisions for *her*. Or, agree with the vampire when he ground back that she had the visions because of him, meaning, he had every right to take them off her when they were killing her.
It was a tough one, but only because he didn’t have the nerve to tell her that as far as he was concerned he’d rather she was alive and visionless than the alternative. Guts and garters came to mind, being male was definitely a disadvantage when dealing with Cordelia.
Shaking off the introspection Wesley tried giving his whole attention back to Nabbit and the hovering Charles Gunn. Failing miserably when he froze thinking he detected a noise from Angel’s closed bedroom door. For a second the impulse to find an excuse to get up and escape was almost more than he could stand.
The impulse faded but something told Wesley that Cordelia was up to something and he could only hope she got back before Angel re-appeared, demanding answers of him that he had no means of satisfying.
***
Lying back on the bed with both hands under his head on the pillow, Angel brooded, staring fixedly at the ceiling while scenes from the previous night kept replaying over and over. He’d only gotten about an hours sleep and even that had been purely through willpower.
Head still, his eyes burned a hole in the plaster. Hunger was sending him insane. It was the only explanation for Cordelia getting to him so much recently. Where was his detachment, the ability to just switch off and leave her stuttering and choking on the knowledge that nothing she said could breach his icy reserve?
Angel missed it and the comfort it gave. His thoughts wandered.
Back in Sunnydale Buffy had excelled at sending him to a guilt-ridden hell with nothing more than a haunted look out of sad blue eyes as she turned away, leaving him alone to mope in the dark. Cordelia preferred a more direct approach, as in verbally kicking his ass the whole way down and making sure he knew exactly how pissed she was. Consequences were never abstract with Cordy, but at least you always knew where you were with her.
Angel frowned darkly realizing the wayward drift of his thoughts. Whoa, when had he started comparing the two? There were no comparisons, Buffy was the slayer and Cordelia was his…friend. He relaxed a little then and some of the knots twining in his gut loosened. That explained it. She got to him because she *was* important. Friends are supposed to be important and that’s all it was.
It wasn’t like love or anything, he knew enough about that to know. Pain and angst, guilt and sacrifice; that was love. At least when he was involved anyway. Plus, him not knowing what to do with her from one minute to the next was natural given his history, that and the simple fact that he was a vampire and she was a human.
His belly gave off a loud grumble of hunger and discomforted, Angel turned on his side. Maybe he should give up on the idea of sleep and get up and face her. It was a longshot but still possible that if he took the heat, she’d get over it sooner and maybe let him get a word in edgeways.
Then it hit him and the nebulous itch under his skin coalesced into one single thought. He couldn’t hear Cordelia’s voice and there was no way she’d go that long without chiming in about something.
“Dammit.”
Angel literally shot up and out of bed, stalking towards the chair to snatch up his pants, then yanked them on and cursing vehemently. He hadn’t taken her threat to leave seriously, thinking she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Bad mistake, and since when did he know what was going on inside that convoluted head of hers?
Zippered up, the shirt was next and he thrust a hand down the sleeve tugging the burgundy fabric over one broad, tense shoulder, “Okay, on foot she can’t have got far.” True, but he’d have to wait for the sun to go down.
That gave Angel pause before he shrugged it off, filled with resolve, “Not good, but if she manages three miles an hour that still only makes it about what, 35 miles?” Meaning he could still catch up with her in the car. In the process of pulling on his boots Angel’s head shot up as a horrible thought occurred to him. Where are the car keys?
“Dammit!”
Seconds later Angel was heading for the bedroom door. He’d have to find and steal another car to chase after her *and* his Plymouth, and if she’d so much as scratched it…
“Where’s Cordelia?” he growled at a blank faced Wesley as he stalked into the kitchen.
The swift entry, intimidating stance and gritted tone didn’t bode well. Wesley swallowed hard, “um… Cordelia? Right, I think she-“
Still leaning over the kitchen table and looking up with a flash of irritable brown eyes it was Charles Gunn that let, or rather chased the cat out of the bag. “She took off about half an hour after you crashed. So, are we gonna go fetch this time machine or what?”
“Wesley?”
Pinned by familiar, furious onyx the ex-watcher mentally groaned then sent a swift and silent apology through the ether towards the absent young woman. “She wouldn’t listen to me. Insisted on going out and utterly refused to tell me where she was going. What could I do?”
“You could have woken me,” barked Angel slamming a fist into the archway on his way back out, “Where are the keys to the car?” he snarled, then proceeded to open drawers and slam them shut after a quick rifle.
Angel looked as mad as a staked bull and Wesley, following reluctantly from the kitchen, took a second to figure out what he was searching for, hardly able to hear the furious undertone over the noisy and agitated search.
“Car keys, oh but…they’re here,” he announced and held them up to dangle from his fingers having taken from his pants pocket.
Closing his eyes Angel took a mental step back then snatched them off Wesley, his broad back disappearing back into the kitchen before the Englishman could blink. Slightly offended at the brusque response to his helpfulness he followed.
From the table Angel looked briefly up from his quick scan of the drawing. “Wesley, you take Nabbit and Gunn to Dora’s and bring the time machine here. I don’t think we should wait until dusk.”
“I thought we’d decided it was safer to operate it from a location away from here?”
“I’ve changed my mind,” replied Angel shortly, refusing to meet his gaze and left it that. “Given the fact we got chased out of Wolfram & Hart, we can guess we’re not the only people interested in it. It’s safer here.”
Wondering why Angel hadn’t thought the same the night before Wesley sighed heavily and pulled his glasses off for a quick clean, preferring to see the vampire only as blur when he asked, “What about Cordelia?”
“I’ll wait for her here. If she doesn’t turn up by nightfall I’m going after her.” That was the real reason why he wanted the time-machine here. One night was okay, but if he had to search for Cordelia the delay could lose them their only opportunity to reverse the technology crisis.
***
The door into the office opened and feminine footsteps clattered across the upper floor before descending the stairs to the basement quarters. Sliding the door back Cordelia halted in mid-step when a quick sweep found the apartment empty.
“Hello! Hey, where did everybody go?”
Dropping her purse on the couch on her way through to the kitchen she bent to sneak a peek in though Angel’s open bedroom door. Why was Angel up, did something happen? “Great, what did I- ” turning on her heel Cordelia bumped into something large and solid that hadn’t been there a second ago.
“Where the hell have you been?” asked a low voice very, very softly.
Having nearly jumped right out of her skin, Cordelia took a step back, opening her mouth without thinking about it, “Angel, you big dumbass, you scared me. God! Lurking in the dark much?”
Scowling and expecting a swift apology followed by a few swift backwards steps she was a little unnerved to find he did neither. “Daylight or not the streets are dangerous. You know that. So, I repeat where-have-you-been?”
He had that intent tight-assed and pissed expression on his face, the one that spelled big trouble in neon letters. Dammit, where was Wesley when you needed him? Hmmm, all in all a big confession about the reinstated visions suddenly seemed a really dumb idea.
“I needed some air, big deal.” Shrugging a slim shoulder Cordelia took a step back to get some much needed distance only to find he matched her. Uh huh, the jerk wanted to throw down again- fine, she lifted her chin to eyeball him, “Um… you’re crowding me, Angel, as in…air’s becoming an issue again.”
That only pissed him off more, “You’ve been gone for over 4 hours, that’s a lot of air.” His dark eyes bored into hers, darkly intent and piercing.
Locked in silent combat and not touching at all Cordelia couldn’t keep up her anger. Her gaze dropped then shot to the open bedroom, zeroing in on the big bed visible through it. Blushing profusely she jerked away again and defensiveness had her spine stiffening, “So, I went out for a while, big wup. Some of us actually like the sun, remember?”
Her voice shook. Why am I breathless for God sake? He was too damn close that was why, Cordelia could feel him through the thin layers of their clothes and that bizarre dream was still way too fresh in her mind. Oh no, so not going there.
“Not good enough, Cordelia.”
When she took another retreating step Angel did the same, his blood boiling with the not so subtle brush off. All that was missing was her usual acid advice to- get over it. Like hell, he’d been sitting down here going nuts thinking she could be lying hurt somewhere and that he couldn’t help her. Angel crossed his arms to keep from picking her up and shaking her.
“I know you, remember,” his voice was a hypnotic rasp and it sent shivers skittering down her spine while her thought process scrambled. God, would the real Angel please step up, where was Mr. Touch Me Not, when you wanted non-confrontational?
The back of her knees hit something immovable, but Cordelia didn’t dare turn around, transfixed by the slightly cruel cast to his hard features. Angel leaned in shaking his head slowly, “C’mon, Cor, you can do better than that, where’s that inventive imagination of yours, hmm?”
There’s nothing like being slowly but surely stalked to remind you just how intimidatingly large Angel really was, or for that matter how scary it was being the centre of his utterly fixed and undivided attention.
“Imagination…I…don’t erm,” An arm came up to cage her in and this close she could see the darker striations in his eyes. It was unbelievably creepy, mostly because it was kinda arousing- eww gross! Oh my God, where did that come from?
Hazel eyes widened with shock. Fed up, creeped out and scared of the nameless heat shimmering to life between them Cordelia finally resorted to touching him, rearing back she smacked his arm away and then planted a restraining hand squarely on the centre of his chest.
That done and sucking in a lungful of oxygen she let rip, “Hey, earth to psycho! What- did my hair go blonde in the sun, will you just quit it?” Hazel eyes smote at him with indignant fury and more than a little fear. “What is your deal recently? I mean, I always knew you were weird but-“
Angel froze at the dig about Buffy. Why would she mention Buffy, this had nothing to do with the slayer? Cordy pushed him away again and he let her while his brows formed a vee, “What’s being blonde got to do with worrying about you?”
Okay, so Angel knew he was acting strangely but the edgy confrontation with the oracles followed by the shock of thinking she was dying, and then their fight had all contributed to making him go stir crazy waiting for her.
That gave her pause and she cocked her head frowning disbelievingly. “You just stalked me half way across the room because you were a little worried about me?”
Put like that he got her point, Angel rubbed the back of his neck and stepped away, “not a little, a lot worried about you.”
With a comfortable distance between them, both relaxed as the lightening rod atmosphere dissipated. This time Cordelia could hold his intense gaze. Angel shrugged and shoved both hands in his pants pockets, “I’m sorry, okay.”
He paused thinking it through and she was struck by how he didn’t flinch from keeping eye contact as he added softly, “You scared me, I thought you’d either skipped town or got attacked and I was stuck here…unable to protect you.”
If that wasn’t the guilt trip to beat all others, Cordelia didn’t know what was. She sighed, truth time. “Okay, okay, I went to the Oracles,” she blurted out cringing and expecting an instant return to aggression.
There was a weighty pause, “You went to see the oracles?”
She felt an idiotic grin pull at her lips and cringed again, “I did.”
Angel ignored the spurt of anger, half of it self-directed for not guessing she’d pull a trick like that, “And…what did they say?”
“Oh lots of stuff,” Cordy obeyed the impulse to move and made a beeline for the kitchen, feeling his eyes bore into her back. “How your blood in me means I can have the visions without my brains turning into mush, y’know stuff like that.”
That wasn’t all of it, Angel would stake his un-life on it, “No, I don’t know Cordelia, what else?” He followed her into the kitchen and shut the empty refrigerator door to force her to stop prevaricating.
Cordelia puffed out a breath and darted him a quick look, “I’m keeping the visions.”
“The hell you are, I made a deal.”
Standing there surrounded by the neat kitchen they clashed, “I unmade it, or more accurately, I made one of my own.” The air charged once again, turning combustible.
Topaz mixed with brown in his eyes and Cordelia rushed into speech, “I’m not dying anymore and if you thought losing me the visions would get me out of your hair- then you were dead wrong. I’m here for the duration, Angel. Get used to it.”
She had no idea how those simple words leeched every atom of his anger away like it had never been. Did she really mean that? If he had a heartbeat it would be thudding, “I didn’t do it to-” Angel faltered and sucked in a fortifying breath of his own, “Cordy, I need you more than I need the visions.”
They both froze then, hardly daring to breath at the content of that admission and teetering on the edge of an unforeseen precipice. Cordelia gulped, what did he mean by that? Inside, an old flame sputtered to life and this time she didn’t stamp it out. Opening her mouth Cordelia was about to say something dumb when the office door upstairs crashed open, unfreezing Angel who was gone in the next instant.
“Damn…”
