The door clicked closed loudly enough that Cordelia heard it. Whirling angrily mid pace, she turned to face Angel who stepped gingerly into the room. Not bothering to mask the hurt and betrayal she felt, Cordelia let the venom drip into her voice.
“What are you doing here?”
It stung remembering the bliss they had shared just a few short hours ago. They had been connected in more ways than one. Angel could only hope to salvage their relationship before this misunderstanding ruined everything. Especially now that his soul was secure— if indeed Buffy’s interpretation of Cordy’s words was right.
“It’s my bedroom,” he reminded softly unable to resist the challenging comeback despite that it might rile her up even more. Angel watched the light flare in her eyes, skin flushed with anger and something leapt within him.
“Fine. Then you can have it,” Cordelia snapped making a move toward the door only to stop short when Angel refused to budge.
The urge to bend her to his will swept strongly through his system. Nerves itched for action. His senses remained keenly aware of her erratic pulse, the way her breathing shifted her breasts against the thin black shirt that also belonged to him, and the lingering scent of their lovemaking.
Angel knew better than to attempt it. He had a very slim chance of getting out of here with the family jewels intact and the knowledge that she would turn on him with every bit of fury she possessed knotted him up with anticipation. He had a feeling he would enjoy fighting and making up with Cordy, but there was too much at stake to risk bold moves.
This required caution and a gentle hand.
“Stop making like the Rock of Gibraltar,” Cordelia tried to physically shove him aside, “and get out of my way.”
With a sigh, Angel offered a truce, “I’m not here to fight. We were friends first and I know we can work—”
“Friends are supposed to knock. That way they can be told to get lost.” Glaring hotly, she shoved her hands on her hips and impatiently tapped her bare foot on the rug. When he still refused to move or respond, Cordelia pointed to the door. “Get out, Angel. I don’t want you here.”
He’d never answered her question, Cordelia realized. Was he here to rub it in, to tell her the pity sex was great, but he could handle just being friends? If he was going to say anything that had the B-word in it, Angel was going to discover what it was like to fit in a dustpan. The bastard! What a nerve actually trying to break up with a Chase.
Standing there like a brick wall all broad shouldered and lean muscled, Angel was not exactly in a hurry to respond to her demand. He looked to be three seconds away from biting back. Cordelia was ready. Bring it on!
Her eyes narrowed in determination when Angel barked, “Too bad. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”
When he stepped forward using his height to loom over her, Cordelia shivered in anticipation. She hated this, dreaded what it would mean, but would not back away from it either. His kisses downstairs proved there was a healthy dose of desire in them, but that did not change the fact that Angel had been planning to break up with her without giving her a chance first.
If he thought he could fix this with kisses, he definitely had another thing coming. Cordelia’s head tipped craned back on her neck to meet his gaze. “Back for more? Not gonna happen, buddy.”
She brushed up against his chest as she stood tiptoed to make her point catching his eyes dropping to her cleavage and whatever else the gaping shirt revealed. “Hope you’ve got a good memory because this body— you won’t be seeing it naked anytime soon.”
Snatching the loose sheet from the floor, Cordelia wrapped herself up in it, feeling smug at the dark scowl and growing impatience that appeared on his face. As if he was imagining ripping the sheet away. A part of her wanted him to do it. To cover her with kisses making her forget all about the fact that he was going to give up on her love for him; to bring her back to that place where nothing existed except the two of them.
They could go there now. Cordelia knew it. And it wouldn’t be pity sex this time. Soreness aside, she knew it would be even better than their first try because she could see the want burning in his eyes, felt the flames licking inside her.
The sound of her name on his lips made her shudder causing a rush of damp heat between her thighs. “No,” she gasped out her determination to ignore it letting a renewal of her anger replace that unbidden desire.
“Listen to me! Please, Cordy,” Angel urged when she tightened the sheet turned her back to him. “At least tell me if it’s true. Is my soul secure?”
Cordelia opened her mouth only to pause her autopilot scurrilous response when his question sank in. “You didn’t know?” Peeking over her shoulder while gauging his response, she saw the stunned look on his face realizing that he had been clueless about the fact.
“But I—,” the wheels were churning now and whether or not Angel knew it, he had just dug himself an even deeper hole. “You’re telling me that we had sex— pity sex though it was— when you still thought you could lose your soul? That’s insane.”
The claim was not even defensible from Angel’s standpoint. He had the same poor excuses he had given himself only a short time ago. None of them came close to being legitimate. The fact was that he had let his desire for Cordy outweigh any danger he thought existed.
“I might’ve been upset tonight,” facing him again Cordelia rattled on, “but not stupid. There was no risk of Angelus popping up when we blissed out. How could you not know? I thought Drusilla told you.”
Angel brow furrowed as he realized his childe had obviously shared the news with Cordy. “She told me, but somehow I didn’t get it. I had no idea,” he admitted, stunned.
“I told you, too,” she reminded him, thinking back to a point where Angel actually tried to slow down, “that we could do anything, everything.”
That had sounded more like wishful thinking, just being caught up by their desire. Shifting his feet, Angel reached up to rub a hand along his neck to ease the tense muscles. “Tonight seemed—I wasn’t really thinking.”
“Not with your brain,” Cordelia’s wry mutter followed. “Dru’s tea party wasn’t just a little get together. She told me that your soul has been permanent since you were in that hell dimension.”
Angel looked a little lost. Asking, “How?” drew a shrug.
“How am I supposed to know?” Cordelia said she was not given details and was not even sure that Drusilla had them. It was something she had gotten with one of her visions. “You came back different than before. Can’t you tell?”
“No. I don’t feel any different.” Although, that wasn’t exactly the full truth, either. It might frighten her to reveal that his demon aspect crawled to the surface far more frequently than before.
He could not remember most of the time he had spent in Acathla’s realm. Angel’s memories of that time were sketchy at best like a fading dream. He had no idea what he’d done there to secure his soul, a trial or test. Or was it something Willow did when she ensouled him?
Cordelia was not sure she wanted to hear it. “How it happened doesn’t matter if you’re going to give up on us so easily.” They had managed just fine when both of them thought he could lose his soul, but he chose now to break up with her.
“Cordy—”
“Don’t Cordy me,” she warned him that the fight was not over. “Even Xander had a longer track record.”
He had been trying to find a way to steer the conversation toward clearing this mess up, but the mention of her ex-boyfriend’s name incensed him. “Don’t,” he tried to hold back the low growl that accompanied the warning, “compare me to him.”
That one was too easy. Cordelia smoothly responded, “Afraid you might come up short?”
Angel wasn’t exactly slow either. “Not likely.”
Licking her lips, Cordelia glance downward, smirked and let her eyes trail up his torso. She watched with glee as Angel’s brow furrowed darkly. “I guess that’s for me to know, isn’t it.”
Jaw clenching, Angel seemed to be holding back a verbal response. He circled her position as if looking for a better angle to pounce. Cordelia did not turn. She held steady trying to ignore the tingling awareness of his presence. Passing by her one more time, Angel stopped behind her.
Instinct kicked in and Cordelia bolted for the door. Though she heard nothing, his hand slammed against its flat surface as he moved in to reach past her shoulder. Damn vampire speed.
Yanking at the tangled sheet, Cordelia turned pressing her back against the door. “Get out of my way.”
Angel held steady, his raised arm half-blocking her in. “We’re not finished here.”
“Aren’t we?” Cordelia felt the first sting of tears. She did not want to let him see her cry. “Out! I need out.”
He did not stop her when she swept past him again because it put her back in the center of the room. Though she would not face him, Angel sought a final assurance that his soul was now permanent. “You believe Dru was telling the truth.”
Deception was not exactly Dru’s game. Angel knew the answer to that even as he awaited Cordelia’s confirmation. If there were doubt, everything he said to her in the study would still hold true. They could never be lovers. As for friendship, he wanted to hold on to anything he could get, but as Cordy hinted, the temptation would be far too great.
Cordelia could not answer. She hoped Drusilla was being truthful about his soul. But the vampiress had tortured Angel in the past, planning to let Spike kill him in order to cure her illness. That reminder did not exactly make Cordelia feel better about it.
Was it truth or a lie? Cordelia thought back to their encounter at Trinity Church. Her mind instantly filled with rich, colorful images of blood, pain and death; the sounds of the dying; helpless victims crying out in need for a savior— and Angel. She was there entwined in his arms, at his side as— something that was not quite clear to her.
The anger drained from her voice. “Are Dru’s visions ever wrong?” She turned to find him directly behind her again though it came as no surprise.
“No,” Angel answered adding an addendum, “but it’s sometimes difficult to figure out what they mean.”
The future scared her.
Lost in her thoughts, she heard Angel as if from a distance, but did not miss the hope that filled his words. “Cordy, this changes everything. Don’t you see? The threat of unleashing Angelus was just too much to ignore. I knew if we made love again that I—”
Cordelia jumped on the idea that he had been thinking about her that way. Pressing a palm against his chest, she asked for the truth. “So it wasn’t just pity sex?”
“Did it feel that way?” Angel had wanted to comfort her, but that was just a part of it.
Slowly, Cordelia admitted, “No.” It had felt incredible. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all. She stared up at the desperate look on Angel’s face.
“It’s not over between us,” Angel lifted his hands to touch her hovering them at her shoulders for a moment before trailing his fingertips down to her elbows. He had never been so close to begging for something in his entire existence. Urging her to answer him, “You know that. So…”
“So we have a problem.” Her lips pursed, eyebrows scrunched thoughtfully.
Warily silent, Angel dropped his hands to his side. Was that a no? It sounded like a no.
“Our little secret is out in the open.” Her sudden smile was a flash of sunlight on the darkest night, brilliantly intense and teasing.
Swamped by relief, Angel smiled back. “That’s a good thing. I won’t have to stop myself from touching you.” This time he grabbed a handful of sheet and dragged her close rubbing his forehead against hers before pressing his lips there.
“Buffy didn’t stake you.” She snuggled against his chest looping her arms around his waist. “That’s another good thing. Xander’s probably waiting for it to sink in before he goes ballistic.”
Strangely enough, Angel realized that if Buffy had not brought up the subject of his soul, he and Cordelia might not have resolved this. He would still be downstairs brooding and she would be up here ripping holes in his favorite sheets. Still, he wished the Scoobies would just go home for the rest of the night.
“I told them to wait until tomorrow to bring your things over,” Angel grumbled, “but Buffy has her own way of handling situations.”
“Yeah,” Cordelia muttered sourly. Then her head came up off its comfortable spot on Angel’s chest. “Wait— you said they brought my stuff? I didn’t see any suitcases.”
Angel stepped back looking a little evasive. “Uh…no.”
Remembering the scene in the foyer with Xander and Willow snoring away in their respective sleeping bags, Cordelia recalled that there were a couple of old duffel bags, a pink backpack with stuffed pig poking out from a pocket, a cooler and several large trash bags. A sharp gasp sounded. Hazel eyes widened in horror as Cordelia realized what they’d done.
“Trash bags?” Cordelia gaped numbly. “They put my clothes in…,” she couldn’t even say the words again nearly hyperventilating over the idea.
Making a move for the door with murder in her eyes, Cordelia stopped short as Angel called out. “Cordy—”
Anger flared again, snapping, “My grandma dies and suddenly I’m a bag lady. Cordelia Chase does not live out of a trash bag!”
Angel recognized that Cordelia was not just angry about this fashion disaster. This was the first time she had even mentioned Bev’s death to him. He caught her just as her legs buckled beneath her letting her fall into him. Angel eased them down to the floor, wrapped his arms around her and held on as Cordelia tried to stifle her tears.
“My parents…,” the words faltered. Cordelia swallowed thickly, then forced herself to speak before she lost her nerve. “Bev didn’t want me to be alone like this. Now she’s dead because of me. If I hadn’t moved in…”
Threading his fingers through her hair, Angel whispered soothing assurances. He had one observation to share. “She loved you, Cordy.”
A teardrop spread its moisture across his shirt, the salty scent of her sorrow in the air as Cordelia admitted. “I never actually told her…”
“I think she knew.”
Cordelia shifted again to look into his eyes wanting to read the truth of his words there. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Angel answered palming her face with both hands, thumbs chasing down her tears. “And Cordy— you’re not alone.”
