Part 2<\/b><\/p>\n
Three Months later\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cI can understand people who drink too much. I can understand people who put a note on the parking meter that says it\u2019s broken when it\u2019s not.\u201d Cordelia passed her weapon to Gunn, freeing both hands to swipe at the goo soaked strands clinging to her face. \u201cWhat I can\u2019t understand are people who worship demons.\u201d<\/p>\n
Speckled with squirts of demon slime, their clothes disheveled, they turned into the alley leading to the back entrance of the office.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, especially Lu-rite demons.\u201d Gunn agreed scrunching his nose. \u201cWhat kind of stink was on that thing? If you\u2019re a prince of the underworld\u2026bro, visit the Jacuzzi once in a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s sad actually. The only way some people can find a purpose in life is by becoming obsessed with demons. By the way Gunn, technically that wasn\u2019t a Lu-rite. It was a Mu-rite, a sub-species of the Lu-rite. The male sports a small, tell-tale fin just behind the third shoulder.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo glad we\u2019re not the sad people obsessed with demons.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have to be a little obsessed,\u201d Wesley offered in their defense. \u201cWe\u2019re detectives that specialize in these things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd we\u2019re not sad. Nope, no sadness with this slaphappy trio.\u201d Cordelia agreed, sarcasm rolling off her tongue.<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly, we\u2019re a happy and rambunctious lot if I ever saw one.\u201d Wesley paused, hoping but not expecting a cheer of agreement. \u201cNot going to humor me even a little, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHu-uh.\u201d Cordelia and Gunn hummed in unity.<\/p>\n
\u201cI realize we sacrifice a great deal of our social lives, but we have to. Our work demands it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou got that right. I mean, who has time for love when you\u2019re out there doing it with the demons?\u201d Wesley and Cordelia stopped in their tracks, casting Gunn a leery glare. \u201cDidn\u2019t that come out sad and wrong? Man, I need to get out more.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPerhaps that would be wise.\u201d Wesley offered unlocking the back door and pulling it open for his partners to step inside.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe you shouldn\u2019t have turned the lights on.\u201d Cordelia suggested, rubbing a towel over her face and hair. \u201cWe definitely looked better in the dark\u2026well at least I did.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYea, but the dark didn\u2019t cut the stink you\u2019re wearin\u2019 Barbie.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s true; I don\u2019t think I\u2019ve ever needed a bath as much as-\u201d<\/p>\n
A loud clang of snapping metal and the room fell instantly silent. They stood stock still glancing one to the other, three pairs of dark brows raised in anticipation.<\/p>\n
\u201cGo check it out.\u201d Cordelia practically barked when the two men remained frozen in their steps.<\/p>\n
\u201cCordelia, we discussed this, and agreed\u2026you would be in charge of this particular project.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou guys amaze me. You\u2019ll fight hell-beasts without a second thought, but threatened by a rat you two are the biggest scardies I\u2019ve ever seen.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMan, I hate rats. With their little beady eyes\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026and let us not forget their beady teeth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOoo and little tails all swoosh, swoosh.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dumbfounded by the men\u2019s fear of small rodents, Cordelia shook her head in apparent surrender. Having accomplished as much clean up as she could with a dry towel, she balled it into a wad dropping it into the trash can beside Wesley\u2019s desk as she headed for the front door.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m dirty, I smell, and I\u2019m tired. If you two want to spend the rest of the night with a rat squished in a trap\u2026fine; I\u2019m going home.\u201d<\/p>\n
Cordelia spun around to unlock the front door but released a blood-curdling scream instead when the broad frame lunged through the dark entryway.<\/p>\n
\u201cDamn it; what are you doing here,\u201d she hissed, muscles stiffened in a tight clamp threatening to send her tumbling to the floor.<\/p>\n
Stilling frazzled nerves, Cordelia spun back around striking with a scolding bluster. \u201cWhich one of my brave heroes left the front door unlocked?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wasn\u2019t the last one out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe office was secure when we left.\u201d<\/p>\n
Their denial rang out in a collective defense, one\u2019s excuse clamoring over the other\u2019s.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, if that\u2019s the case it begs the question-\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes drifted to their unexpected visitor. Matthew Ryan was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome; slightly messy waves of short ebony silk sprouted from his head, and cobalt eyes set deep in a perfectly chiseled face.<\/p>\n
They had met at a most unlikely place, Caritas; when an informant suddenly turned hostile, he had intervened unaware of the club\u2019s magical protection against violence, offering his own brand of protection.<\/p>\n
\u201cMatthew, why are you here?\u201d Cordelia had known the man for barely two months, only recently feeling comfortable with their synthetic-friendly acquaintance.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was worried\u2026I couldn\u2019t reach you on your cell phone\u2026\u201d His explanation met with a squint of confusion he continued, \u201c\u2026we were supposed to chaperone Alex and Julia.\u201d<\/p>\n
Crap!<\/i> Remembering their forgotten movie plans, confusion slid into regret. \u201cDid they keep their date anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Julia\u2019s mother wasn\u2019t comfortable with them going alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m so sorry. It\u2019s just-we had to-\u201d<\/p>\n
I take it you had one of those\u2026\u201d He studied her disheveled state, his graze slowing to take in the odd colored splotches on her clothes and skin. \u201c\u2026visions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYea, it was one of those.\u201d There was a time such an intimately personal embarrassment would have been a devastating blow; but that seemed like a long time ago, and Cordelia wasn\u2019t sure she even remembered the girl that would have jumped through fiery hoops to avoid social humiliation. Matthew Ryan might be the real-life version of a romance novel\u2019s paladin but his introduction in the story had come too late to offer a ride into the sunset.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
The cover of night freeing him to travel above ground, he had waited until the office was empty and jimmied the lock restricting his invitation. His unethical search failing to turn up useful information, he quickly picked up their trail in time to witness their surprisingly skillful battle with the demon.<\/p>\n
Shadowing their weary retreat, he moved as a predator shrouded in darkness, until her scream threatened to reveal his presence. He had almost jumped, pulling back at the last second as relief and recognition doused the smell of fear.<\/p>\n
The building across the street offered a clear view of the dimly lit office, and situated on the rooftop he watched and waited, and contemplated this stranger\u2019s place in the reinvented Angel Investigations.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
He jolted upright, the incessant and irritating ring of the buzzer whirring around his head. Throwing back the covers, The Host bounced from the bed, grabbing his robe as he stomped toward the club\u2019s main entrance.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlright-alright–Alright already! I\u2019m not deaf, just not open. Come back tonight and I\u2019ll let you in\u2026even give you a drink on the house.\u201d<\/p>\n
Determined, the pestiferous intruder chimed a nauseating encore. \u201cJeez, keep your pants on!\u201d Lorne wailed yanking back the locks and swinging the door open. \u201cWell that bit of caution is about three months too late.\u201d<\/p>\n
Of the likely visitors his predawn, befuddled brain could conjure, this one hadn\u2019t even made it on the list. \u201cWhat do you want Angel?\u201d Lorne asked; gold-socked feet firmly planted, his rigid form blocking the doorway.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need advice.\u201d The words, low and gravelly crackled from his throat.<\/p>\n
\u201cI warned you for weeks you were taking the wrong path; not that you ever listened to my advice.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re supposed to help people that have lost their way.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t lose your way Mr. Nobody Knows My Pain. You walked away from your path, threatening anyone that tried to help you. So, I\u2019ll ask you again; why are you here? Not just here, but in LA.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease talk to me.\u201d Angel pleaded, leaning his head against the doorjamb. \u201cI don\u2019t know what to do\u2026and I\u2019m afraid of what I might do.\u201d<\/p>\n
His back stiffened a notch tighter hearing the alluded warning, and Lorne relented thinking lives safer with the schizo vampire inside the violence-free sanctuary. \u201cCome on in and take a load off.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lorne led the way, patting his hand against the slick surface as he rounded the table. Angel taking his cue lifted the chairs to the floor, taking a seat while his reluctant host busied himself behind the bar.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think you mentioned something about a drink on the house.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKeep your pan-\u201d Lorne\u2019s head jerked up, his eyes locking with the two bottomless, dark orbs darting in his direction. There was no need for further reference to the fateful event, not just yet anyway.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m working on it, received a little something special with my last order.\u201d The cork twisted from the bottle\u2019s narrow mouth with a loud pop, and the smell of human blood, fresh and intoxicating wafted into the air.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t normally serve this particular bouquet, but I think you\u2019ll enjoy it.\u201d Lorne offered, plopping the glasses on the table.<\/p>\n
Angel studied the dark, crimson liquid, cursing his watering mouth as he reached past his glass picking up Lorne\u2019s and lifting it too his mouth. \u201cThanks for the offer, but I think I\u2019ll pass.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo Angel, what\u2019s new with you?\u201d<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
Angel shoved against the basement door forcing the rickety lock aside. The air smelled stale and dusty, and unused, an invasive stench to unnaturally keen senses. His gaze lifted to the slightly ajar door leading into the hotel, and he trudged up the steps expecting the lobby to offer an equally suffocating welcome.<\/p>\n
\u201cAngel Investigations; we help the hopeless.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cDoyle filled me in on your little mission.\u201d<\/p>\n
Exhausted, Angel slumped against the counter as the surge of memories washed over him and closed his eyes surrendering to the frail comfort of happier moments.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, as vampires go, you\u2019re pretty cuddly. Maybe you might want to think about mixing up the black on black look.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cOne of the perks of the job. After an all-nighter of fighting the lurking evil, we get eggs.\u201d
\n\u201cAstonishing, really. Mhm-mm. Did you say something about toast?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHowever he comes, he\u2019s not gonna get them. These people mean a lot to me.\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m getting that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026The message didn\u2019t come for Angelus; it came for you\u2026Angel. And you have to trust that whoever The Powers That Be\u2026be-are-is\u2026anyway, they know the difference.\u201d<\/p>\n
His head swooshed from side to side in a violent shake; some memories too hard to face. Angel pushed from the counter, his eyes traveling to the staircase that would lead him to the hardest memories.<\/p>\n
The walk upstairs was a slow surrender to his grief, and Angel wondered if this was the semblance of peace God granted to sinners facing the gallows. Too miserable to fear the next life, too tired to hold on to this one.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe good fight, yeah? You never know until you\u2019ve been tested. I get that now.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
Angel\u2019s knees buckled and he grabbed the handrail stumbling over the next step. \u201cDoyle sacrificed his life for the mission.\u201d Angel whispered, breaths huffing in heavy pants, his chest heaving as stale air filled and left dead lungs. \u201cHis sacrifice was in vain, it only added to failures I\u2019ll never atone for.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCordelia, I’m gonna fix this\u2026Promise. I\u2019m gonna get you back. I need you back\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
He had broken his promise, failed her in the worst way, forgotten he couldn\u2019t protect her from himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve made a good choice. She\u2019ll provide a connection to the world. She\u2019s got a very humanizing influence.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t Doyle\u2019s fault.\u201d Angel rasped, certain no entity of grace or forgiveness would listen to him. \u201cHow could he know he was leaving Cordelia in the hands of a monster?\u201d<\/p>\n
It looked like any other door, commonplace along side the row of doors lining the hallway; only those who had stood on the other side could understand why it was different. His hand reached for the knob, trembling uncontrollably; and Angel clinched it into a tight fist, pressing it against his chest.<\/p>\n
He couldn\u2019t go in, not yet. He was too weak, too alone to face the memories that waited on the other side.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s gonna be a long while until you work your way out, but I know you well enough to know you will. And I\u2019ll be with you until you do.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cYou have to be strong enough for both of us Cordelia.\u201d Angel turned from the closed door and walked to the end of the hall. \u201cYou have to love me enough to forgive me\u2026\u201d He opened the last door, \u201c\u2026or hate me enough to kill me,\u201d and walked inside.<\/p>\n