Part 1
The rest of the day had passed by sluggishly. No visions had meant a quiet night, and Angel had spent most of that time watching the warm interaction between his three friends. He hadn’t made any attempt to approach Cordelia after that single time, throwing discreet and searching looks her way.
Cordelia had always been a tactile person; something that at one time unnerved him, and then took for granted. As he watched her constant patting of the arms and knees of the other two men- and especially the moment she’d laughed and hugged Gunn, kissing his bald head with affection, he’d had to stifle the growls of jealousy.
He wanted that again; wanted – needed those warm touches and megawatt smiles. Warm hazel eyes glowing with a blend of fall leaves and melting honey… he had to work out what he’d done wrong and put it right.
He’d nearly lost her once and wasn’t prepared to lose her again, for whatever reason it may be. His new feelings only strengthened his need.
At lunchtime, Gunn popped out and Wes followed shortly after, but not before suggesting to Angel that he check up on Fred, and with a quick glance over at his seer, seemingly absorbed in her work, Angel had reluctantly ascended the stairs. By the time he’d returned, Gunn was back with take out, perched on her desk and chatting with an ease Angel envied.
Cordelia had again disappeared into the bathroom, clutching a small holdall, leaving as soon as their boss entered his office and shut the door firmly behind him. Halting the slow rise to his feet when finally they were alone, Angel cursed his hesitation as he once again wasted a chance to speak to her without the others around. Gunn had left an hour or so earlier, saying he needed to catch up with his old crew.
“Are you ready, Cordelia?” Wes yelled as he exited his office, drawing the vampire’s attention instantly from the book he was at present attempting to read.
“That’s a new look, Wes,” Angel took in the off-white t-shirt that had seen better days, the baggy grey sweats, and scuffed sneakers before lifting his head to grin at the man.
“Cordelia!” Wes called again, harrumphing when he received a muffled Okayyy! Jeez then glanced towards his friend as he made his slow way towards the basement.
“Gunn and I are taking turns in training Cordelia in advanced self-defence,” he explained casually. Angel straightened up from the check-out counter he’d been propping up, surprise written all over his face.
“Oh? Whose idea was this?” he asked with interest; it wasn’t something that had ever been broached in the past – mainly due to himself not even considering letting the impetuous brunette develop skills more difficult than staving, knowing that it that would only make her more gung-ho than she already was.
“Cordelia’s,” Wes’s reply surprised him even more. It also caused him to feel a bit irked that she hadn’t asked him.
“She’s never said anything,” Angel almost grumbled, folding his powerful arms over his broad chest when his boss finally halted and turned to face him. Looking at the floor for a moment, Wes paused and glanced in the direction of the bathroom before replying.
“It never really became an issue until recently, Angel,” Wes pursed his lips before continuing. “We had a little… incident whilst tending to one of Cordelia’s visions. Gunn and I were a little overpowered for a while by more vampires than we’d expected. Cordelia ended up with a broken wrist.” He stopped talking when the vampire approached quickly, his face darkening in anger.
“You took her with you?” the growl that laced his tone had Wes stepping back instinctively.
“Not much of a choice, really, what with you taking off.” Both men spun around to look at the brunette who now stood near her desk, her hands propped on her hips, which were now covered in similar sweats to Wes’. “The visions didn’t go on sabbatical too, Angel, and I refused to let my friends fight while I was left freaking out at home wondering if they’d come back.”
Angel took a step back; her words hadn’t been accusing or bitter… on the contrary, they were delivered in such a matter-of-fact way that it had sent a light bulb glowing above his head. Then the full import of Wes’ words crashed down on him and in a blink of an eye, he appeared directly in front of his seer, reaching for her hands and running his fingers over her delicate wrists.
“I’m fine,” Cordy almost growled as she pulled her hands out of his and stepped back. “The cast was removed a couple of weeks ago, and it’s good as new, see?” she wriggled her left hand in his face and walked past him to join Wes.
“Come on, Master of Pain, let’s get this over with,” she cracked a grin. “Promise not to hurt you this time.” The grin turned into a chuckle at Wes’ instant expression of outrage.
“You started before I was ready, and you know it,” he retorted defensively, following her through the open basement door. Angel heard her chuckle grow into an all-out laugh as the door was pulled shut behind them, and they descended the stairs.
Angel walked over and stood directly in front of the closed door for several minutes, debating whether to go down and join them, But that all-too-familiar feeling of being on the outside again stopped him. Then his broad shoulders sagged as he recalled her words:
“The visions didn’t go on sabbatical too, Angel, and I refused to let my friends fight while I was left freaking out at home wondering if they’d come back.”
At least now he knew what he’d done.
He’d left his seer and human friends to deal with the visions, and either one of them could have easily been killed. The thought of losing any of them turned his already pale skin ashen.
The added realization that he could all too easily have returned to find it had been Cordy’s neck that had been broken instead of her wrist brought bitter bile to his throat. A fleeting taste of the anguish that news would have caused had his knees buckling in reaction, and he reached blindly towards the door, then slipped soundlessly to the floor.
The stark memory of seeing Wes in that hospital bed the last time he’d left them to fight the visions – meant for him, returned to taunt him with a vengeance. He should have learned from the last time he’d left them alone. Instead, he’d thoughtlessly abandoned them once again.
Part 2
By the time the two had returned to the lobby, Angel had managed to collect himself. He discreetly observed the high flush on her cheeks and the film of sweat clinging to her bare arms and face; her chocolate locks damp from exertion.
The whole picture made him ache. Especially the tired yet cheerful smile she bestowed on Wes, who himself looked rather worn out, his t-shirt damp in patches.
“Whoo, boy! Time for me to go have a long bath before I get mistaken for a Stink demon,” Cordy grinned at Wes and headed towards her desk, barely acknowledging the vampire as he stood there uncertainly.
“I doubt that, Cordelia… Most ‘Stink’ demon’s I’ve had the misfortune to come across had odours that quite literally made your eyes water.” Then a grin cracked his face, and he sauntered over to sniff her shoulder, then scrunching up his nose in distaste, “but then again, you could make it into the top ten – Ouch! That was uncalled-for!” he mumbled from behind his hand when she flicked his nose sharply.
“Serves you right, Mister-I-Smell-Even-Worse,” Cordy stuck her tongue out at him then swept by. “See you tomorrow, Slave Driver,” she called over her shoulder, her eyes locking with Angel’s for a split second and giving a perfunctory ‘bye.’
Wes turned, noted the pensive expression on the vampire’s face as he watched Cordelia leave the hotel, and gave an inward sigh. He wasn’t unaware of the strained atmosphere between them since Angel had returned, but at the same time, he was not all that surprised.
His abrupt departure and lengthy absence had hit her hard, and although she’d made a valiant effort to hide her hurt, it had been plain as day to both himself and Gunn, especially marked after a vision when her defences were fully down.
On his way back, after quickly collecting his clothes and briefcase from the office, Wes glanced over at the unmoving vampire and cleared his throat. “Well, I think I’ll be off too”, he murmured softly.
Wes’ voice broke into Angel’s brooding thoughts and finally turned his head away from the view of the main doors.
“Cordelia….” Bleak brown eyes met troubled blue. “She has many issues to work through right now, Angel,” Wes quietly assured, “Just give her time; I’m sure she’ll come around,” he added, even though he doubted that would be any time soon. Twice bitten….
Angel nodded absently, his now-unreadable yes following the same path as Wes made his way to the exit and let himself out.
As the door closed quietly behind the Ex-Watcher, silence settled on the lobby like a suffocating blanket. After several long minutes had passed, Angel strode to the weapons cabinet and grabbed his broadsword.
Maybe a little pest control would fill the emptiness in his soul… for a little while anyway.
Part 3
Angel awoke to the muted sound of a woman’s uninhibited laughter, and for a moment, a smile crept onto his lips, disappearing just as rapidly when he woke fully, and reality came back with a thump.
A week had passed since he’d returned, and to say that the atmosphere had been uncomfortable was an understatement. Wes and Gunn were making a valiant attempt to ignore the growing rift between Cordelia and himself, but the vampire could see clearly that they found their feigned nonchalance a strain.
Reluctantly leaving his bed and heading for the bathroom, Angel wondered which one of them had caused her to laugh so heartily, tamping down the ache of envy that hit him. He stretched wearily, easing the ache in muscles that still protested from the fight he’d picked with a Slothourn demon last night. It had been twice his height and weight, but damn satisfying to pummel into the ground.
Twenty minutes later, he made his way silently down the stairs; eyes flickering over each member of AI until they settled on Cordy, who was browsing the Internet at her desk. Gunn sat sprawled on one of the couches playing on a Game Boy, and Wes leaned against the counter, shoulders hunched, with a deep frown on his face. One hand supported his chin and the other slowly turning the pages of a book.
After nuking a mug of blood, and then debating where to sit, Angel decided on a couch facing the side of his seer’s desk, shifting a discarded jacket over the arm.
Gunn briefly lifted his eyes and nodded good-naturedly towards the vampire before getting back into his game, whilst Wes seemed in a book-world of his own. Angel absently wondered how long it would take for the man to realize he was up and about; by the look on his face, he doubted he’d hear a hurricane enter the lobby and rearrange it.
Cordy… she remained facing her computer monitor, but he could tell by her posture that she was all too aware of his presence. He itched to shout ‘HELLO!’ in her ear and make her acknowledge him, but he doubted that would get him any brownie points.
“Damn you, Rhicton, damn you to hell!” Three pairs of eyes turned to stare bemusedly at the ex-watcher, who was glaring furiously at the pages of the book he’d been reading so intently.
“Have you been watching Homer again, Wes?” Cordy attempted to stifle a grin as she wagged a chastising finger his way. He harrumphed and abruptly turned another page.
“He thinks all US citizens are like that,” Gunn drawled without looking up from his game boy, “He had a shock the first time he came across the pond and found out we ain’t got three fingers.” Angel lifted a dark brow in surprise when his boss flipped a finger in the direction of the young man without lifting his eyes from the book.
“So… what are you reading, Wes?” he asked the visibly agitated man, attempting to ignore the way Cordy immediately turned back to her work when he spoke.
Cordy tamped down the surge of guilt even as she turned away. Until now, the vampire had merely hovered on the peripheral the last ten minutes whilst she and the others had carried on with whatever they were doing, and he’d not attempted to approach or speak to her. That only made her feel worse – no, dammit! Quit feeling guilty. She refused to go down that path again, knowing exactly where that path inevitably ended; more heartache. Refusing to think about it anymore, Cordy tuned in to Wes’ reply instead.
“Oh, nothing to write home about… except,” he added, glancing up with a deep frown. “This-this imbecile has basically rubbished a thesis I did on the dagger of Algathan.” His hands clenched around the book before slamming it shut and tossing it across the counter.
The very act drew everyone’s eyes, as Wesley Wyndham Pryce did not treat books with anything less than reverence normally.
“Wes… that book was published at least a century prior to your birth,” Angel reasoned calmly. Wes rolled his eyes, reminding him disconcertingly of his seer.
“I realize that, Angel. But the thesis this-this man has torn to shreds was very similar to my findings, so I tend to take a little offence.” Then he sighed heavily. “Sadly, an all too human weakness. I received a distinction for that thesis.” He grumbled.
“A distinction? Isn’t that like a gold star or something?” Cordy asked, mock-seriously, and received a glare for her trouble.
“Gold stars are reserved, no doubt, for achieving a pyramid on a football pitch, Cordelia; a distinction is much higher…. Accolade,” he replied snottily. Gunn snorted and sunk lower into his seat.
“Hey, Hall-Monitor boy, watch it with the ‘tude, unless you want another ‘distinction’ up your ass,” Cordy glared back.
“You go, girl,” Gunn dropped his game boy on the seat next to him and grinned with anticipation, “I’ll hold your sweater.”
Cordy looked down at the loose knitted cotton top she was wearing and frowned. “I’m not wearing a sweater, and if I pass you this top, you guys would shriek and run like little Monitor boys.”
“Who told you that lie?” Wes piped up, a grin finally creeping onto his face. Angel straightened up in his seat and flicked Wes a surprised glance. He didn’t think he’d ever heard the man speak with such a marked lack of restraint before. Cordy wasn’t the only one full of surprises, it seemed. Then he turned his attention back to the scene playing out in front of him.
“Yeah, gimme the top, I dare ya,” Gunn winked cheekily, leaning forward and held out a hand, wriggling his fingers.
Cordy harrumphed and locked eyes with him, easily reading the teasing challenge in his amused brown eyes, and commenced with a staring contest. Gunn folded his large arms across his chest and refused to back down.
Angel watched the interplay with reluctantly growing resentment at the warmth and complete ease between his seer and Gunn. Once upon a time, he’d had that connection with her…well, maybe not as relaxed and humour-filled as what he was observing now, but it stung to feel like an outsider; the memory of how it had felt the last time still clear in his head.
“See? I knew you’d be too chicken,” Wes declared, then clucked and flapped his arms. Breaking the battle of wills, Cordy looked over her shoulder to glare at Wes. Gunn grinned and nodded in agreement.
“I’ll give you chicken,” Cordy growled and abruptly stood up, wrapping her arms around her waist and grabbing the hem of her top.
Angel’s eyes widened when he realized what she was about to do, and half stood. No way in hell! That was all he could think.
Cordelia, who’d had second thoughts and hesitated, caught Angel’s shocked and simmering gaze, easily able to read the silent demand that she should stop, flashing in his eyes. As if he had the right to make her do anything. Pfft, to that! Anyway, they’d all seen much more in her princess outfit.
“Corde-” too late. Angel slowly sank back down, and….helplessly gawped. Three mouths dropped open as they took in the close-fitting lilac camisole. Even though she wore a bra beneath, the thin silk didn’t fully obscure the delicate satin and lace that seemed too fragile to contain the full breasts they held.
Ignoring the shiver of nerves that suddenly hit her, Cordelia placed her hands on her hips and turned to face the now gaping and flushing Ex-Watcher. She stifled the urge to cover her chest with her hands as she felt the heavy weight of one particular pair of eyes. “Who’s clucking now, Wes?” She grinned at her dazzled boss, keeping her hands firmly on her hips.
“I-I-I-I-” he spluttered and then gave up and continued to stare.
“Yup, sure sounds like clucking to me, Monitor Boy,” Gunn nodded, then burst out laughing.
The sound yanked Angel out of his funk, and shaking himself abruptly, averted his eyes from the beautiful vision in front of him and instead turned to ferociously glare first at Gunn, who, oblivious to the daggers heading his way, continued to laugh in glee at his friend’s reaction, then to a vividly blushing and speechless Wes.
Anger rushed to the surface, and without considering the repercussions, he rose to his feet, sweeping up the leather jacket he’d left over the arm of the couch, and approached her rapidly.
“What are you doing?” Cordy leaned away from the vampire who’d magically appeared in front of her, and she raised her hands to clutch at the jacket he’d draped over her torso.
“I think you’ve made your point, Cordelia,” he began, only to be quelled by a death glare.
“Did I ask for your opinion? No? I didn’t think so.” Cordy added before he could open his mouth, tugging off the leather and shoving it hard against his chest before sliding around him and stalking towards the bathroom.
He’d ruined an innocent moment of fun and had turned it into something seedy; Cordelia could barely see for the red haze of mingled embarrassment and rage that blurred her vision. Since the floor had refused to open up swallow her, she made for the bathroom instead.
“Hey, Barbie. You forgot something,” Gunn called, stopping her in her tracks. He’d watched the scene unfold and had found it hilarious – if you ignored the anger sparking between Cordy and the vampire, that is. He shrugged. Maybe it was taken just a little too far, but he hadn’t been able to stop a wince of embarrassment for the dude when he went at it like a chastising father.
Cordy turned just as he lobbed her top towards her; her words muffled when it landed half over her head. Snatching it off, she glared even as “Thanks” left her mouth and then turned to hurry towards a temporary refuge.
“I think our man here needs a beer,” Gunn casually commented to the silent vampire as in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, and eyed the gaping mouth and wide eyes of his boss. Probably more than one beer, he corrected inwardly.
Angel pulled his brooding gaze away from the retreating figure of his seer and turned to head toward the stairs. Without pause, he reached out and flicked Wes’ chin shut with an audible clack on the way past.
“Um, thank you,” Wes muttered dazedly as the vampire rapidly disappeared up and out of sight. Gunn grabbed his discarded Game Boy and slid down in his seat, shaking his head and grinning as the other man shakily rose and made his way to the office.
***
Less than ten minutes had passed before his door was sharply rapped, and Angel automatically called out an invitation to enter.
The door remained firmly closed, but he could easily hear the rapid beat of Cordy’s heart on the other side of the wood panelling. With a heavy sigh, Angel got to his feet and walked over, opening the door and moving to the side to let her enter. She remained where she was.
“Come in,” he repeated quietly. Cordy shook her head jerkily.
“No, thanks. What I have to say can be said just as good from here.” She seemed to draw herself upright without physically moving, and for a moment, he thought she was going to turn on her heel and walk off. Then she continued.
“What the hell was that downstairs?” Her hazel eyes spat fire at him as her hands lifted to prop her hips.
“I … just thought you kind of took it too far.” Angel didn’t even bother to pretend he didn’t understand and folded his arms tight across his chest; pale face unrepentant.
Cordy seethed at his expression, and all ideas of being reasonable went right out of the window. “Well, in the future, keep your thoughts to yourself! They’re not wanted.”
Her finger itched to jab him in the chest, but physical confrontation was a big no-no right now or at any time in the distant future. “You turned a joke between friends into something cheap and nasty, and you had no right to do that.”
Angel bristled even as he pushed down the hurt her words brought to the surface. “Cordelia, what you did was-” he began, but she raised a hand abruptly, cutting him off.
“Don’t go there, Angel. I am so angry with you right now that I could just as easily walk out and never set foot in here again-”
Angel stepped forward sharply, his hulking form unintentionally intimidating as he towered over her, causing the words to dry up in her throat at the stormy look in eyes that had darkened to pitch.
“You can’t leave me – what about the mission?” he added hastily at the quick rise of her brow, and then a small bitter smile touched those full lips.
“I meant this place. Leaving the ‘mission,’” Cordy air quoted the word with a bitter twist of her full mouth, “is something I couldn’t do even if I wanted.” Icy cool eyes locked with his, and he swallowed, inwardly cursing himself for giving her enough rope. “Because no matter where I go, we both know that the visions will always be a part of me. If only walking away was that easy.”
Like it was for you.
Even though the words hadn’t said out loud, they hung in the air between them.
“But that isn’t why I came up here,” Cordy waved a hand dismissively. “You can’t come strolling back into our lives and think you can just pick up where you left off.” She looked away from the growing hurt in his chocolate brown eyes for a moment, and then looked back up after taking a steadying breath. “We’re colleagues – that’s all, so drop it, okay?”
By the time she’d finished, all signs of emotion on the vampire’s face had bled away, leaving an unreadable expression behind. “Okay.” His jaw flexed for a second before he nodded his dark head. “Are you done?” Angel asked, oh, so politely, and Cordy jerkily nodded.
His powerful frame exuded a stillness she’d only seen in a battle, just before leaping into the fray and decimating whoever or whatever stood in his path. She fidgeted uncomfortably on the spot and stared up at him in anxious silence.
“Then, if you’ll excuse me?” Angel stepped back with those last few words, reaching a hand around to grab the handle, and then quietly shut the door.
Her rapidly blurring eyes stared at the wood panelling for several long seconds before a shaky sigh wrenched itself from her slightly trembling mouth.
Well, she’d wanted – needed – to keep a distance between them, and it looked like she’d finally succeeded in clearly passing that message on.