{"id":1731,"date":"2015-06-25T08:10:32","date_gmt":"2015-06-25T07:10:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/?p=1731"},"modified":"2015-06-25T08:13:44","modified_gmt":"2015-06-25T07:13:44","slug":"stirred-not-shaken-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/2015\/06\/25\/stirred-not-shaken-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Stirred Not Shaken. 1"},"content":{"rendered":"

Title: Stirred Not Shaken<\/b> (A Darkness Within<\/b> fic)
\nAuthor: <\/b>CydneStorm
\nPosted: <\/b>2\/14\/06
\nEmail<\/b><\/a>
\nRating: <\/b>PG\/R – NC17
\nCategory: <\/b>Beige Angel in the making with angst and a little fluffy slap and tickle
\nContent: <\/b>A\/C, A\/C\/W friendship
\nSummary: <\/b>Cordelia needs a date and Lindsey seizes an opportunity. Vampire and jealousy do make good bedfellows.
\nSpoilers: <\/b>S 1
\nDisclaimer: <\/b>The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
\nDistribution: <\/b>DW\/GTCA. Anyone else, ask first.
\nNotes: <\/b>
\nThanks\/Dedication:<\/b>
\nFeedback:<\/b>Yes please<\/p>\n

\n

Part 1<\/b><\/p>\n

In the Valley of the Blind, the One-Eyed Man is King\u2019<\/i><\/p>\n

Wesley glanced up as the doorknob made a hesitant twist. It was well past normal business hours, even for the services offered by their small agency. Angel, on the other hand, had already identified the expensive odor invading his space. Content to ignore the unwelcome intrusion, he continued to scan the ancient text spread across his lap.<\/p>\n

\u201cLindsey.\u201d It was more of a mutter than a huff, barely audible to human ears. \u201cSuperiors stalking children again, or are you here to collect an award for one good deed?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust stopped by to say thank you. I didn\u2019t know saving innocents was a contest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not. It\u2019s a mission.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood.\u201d Lindsey countered. \u201cCause if we\u2019re making up for past transgressions, you\u2019re going to be busy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dropping his book onto the desk, Angel stood, muttered huffs shifting to a discernible growl. The men squared off; one an obvious contender, the other sizably out of his league.<\/p>\n

\u201cGentlemen, please.\u201d Wesley implored, slipping his round-lens spectacles from his face. \u201cHelping those in need is reward enough. And since we\u2019ve established this isn\u2019t a contest\u2026I suggest you both zip up.\u201d He finished; feeling rather pleased to have found his own huff key. That is until the next growl veered in his direction.<\/p>\n

\u201cAngel, I simply meant-\u201d<\/p>\n

Wesley\u2019s attempt to explain was cut short. This different growl so menacing it had been known to make grown men quiver in their boots.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow was I supposed to know to read the fine print before kissing Doyle?\u201d<\/p>\n

All three men simultaneously directed their attention to the displeased female in their midst. Starting with the black leather boots, their gazes trailed up long shapely legs. Her body disappearing underneath a thigh-length wrap, their trek quickened to her face. Lips, pouty and glossed with crimson, led to eyes dusted in smoky charcoal and silhouetted by long, thick lashes. Dark, silky tresses swept down her slender neck, fluffs of wavy locks billowing around her shoulders. Wasn\u2019t that how all men greeted Cordelia Chase? Peruse the flawless sculpture of her form, hoping to be invited into her intimate sphere.<\/p>\n

\u201cCordelia, what\u2019s wrong?\u201d Angel spoke first. Years of training and meditation willing his voice calm, artfully low-key.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d She practically shrieked, jerking her wrap away to reveal a sleek, skin-hugging bodysuit that barely covered breasts to thighs. \u201cLook at me! I can\u2019t be Catwoman without Batman. I\u2019ll look like a freak.\u201d<\/p>\n

What was the point of pretending to understand? Any pretense would ultimately end with him looking foolish. Angel shook his head. A maneuver that gained precious seconds to think, and whitewash salacious thoughts.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not the same cat suit you wore before.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBefore what?\u201d Her hands were on her hips now. Fingers pressed over fleshy curves, sharply tapered nails coated in red polish glistened against black leather.<\/p>\n

Meditation had taught Angel how to avoid sensitive situations. Only, life with Cordelia rarely worked within the confines of such limited constraints.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe one you wore in Sunnydale was different. It felt\u2026\u201d Seconds might be all Angel needed when dealing with a demon, but this was Cordelia. He could take hours paraphrasing the right answer, and it would still be the wrong one. \u201c\u2026fuzzy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFuzzy? Did you feel me when I wasn\u2019t looking?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat-No.\u201d Angel\u2019s head jerked toward a friendly ally. \u201cWesley.\u201d He paid the man\u2019s salary, he could expect his support.<\/p>\n

Wesley stood stiff; eyes bugging and mouth gaped, his tongue practically wagging. Angel\u2019s hopes of alliance were lost somewhere. Obviously immersed in shinny, black leather and wrapped in long, supple legs.<\/p>\n

\u201cWesley!\u201d Angel barked, slapping the man\u2019s arm. \u201cWherever you are, get back here\u2026Now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAhem. Sorry, my thoughts must have wondered for a moment. Goodness, it\u2019s rather warm.\u201d Wesley tugged at his collar, popping open the top button as his tongue rolled inside his saliva-deprived mouth. \u201cAh Angel, you said something?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cForget it,\u201d Angel groused. \u201cCordelia, just tell me what\u2019s wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong you ask. I\u2019ll tell you what\u2019s wrong. Life as we know it has forever changed.\u201d Arms flailing into the air, Cordelia wailed at the top of her lungs. \u201cI\u2019ve been dumped. Me! Cordelia Chase!\u201d Her fingers jabbed into her chest, cleavage bouncing and jiggling, threatening to spill from the two strategically placed cups of tautly stretched leather.<\/p>\n

The men goggled the lively and titillating scene. Focus narrowed on the young woman\u2019s performance, Angel and Wesley were blind to the enemy still lurking in their lair.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m Cordelia Chase. I dump. I don\u2019t get dumped.\u201d The show continued, and the spectators drooled, helpless to tear away from the young woman\u2019s scintillating quandary.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe man must be an idiot.\u201d Wesley mumbled, his fellow gazers nodding in unison at the declared gospel. It\u2019s been my exper-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease,\u201d Cordelia cut him off. \u201cYou only have dumpee<\/i> experience. Besides, I don\u2019t need advice. I need a date, and quick.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA date?\u201d Angel asked. \u201cAll this is about needing a date?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not just<\/i> a date.\u201d Cordelia defended. \u201cEric was the<\/i> date.\u201d Her arms lashed out, sweeping the breadth of her recently downsized world. \u201cThe one that could finally take me away from all this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Cordelia,\u201d Wesley hesitantly asked. \u201cWhat does this Eric have to do with your\u2026recently departed friend?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI had a vision while we were on a date.\u201d Cordelia reared her head back and yelled toward the ceiling. \u201cThanks a lot Doyle.\u201d Then added when her audience continued to gawk in confusion. \u201cYou know that slimy, blobby thing you guys had to track this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

Unacceptable was Angel\u2019s initial reaction, borderline punishable coming a close second. Occasional dates he would allow. After all, Cordelia was young and needed more in her life than visions and demons, and death. What kind of date last until three in the morning? Was this man in her apartment when she called about the vision? Had Cordelia disclosed the details of her vision while nestled in bed with some stranger? Well he was a stranger to Angel. Overnight stays required his approval, which meant there would never be any. Had Cordelia learned nothing from her mistake with Wilson Christopher? He certainly had.<\/p>\n

Angel\u2019s body stiffened as possible scenarios played across his mental view. Meditation techniques be damned. This wasn\u2019t the time for measured reactions. \u201cWhat were you doing on a date at three in the morning?\u201d His voice was gruff, any urgency of careful paraphrasing falling to the wayside. \u201cWas this guy in your apartment when you called me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNoooo. We were on our way to my apartment.\u201d Her hands returned to her hips, their tight press calling attention to the slim, curvaceous outline of her waist. \u201cBut rolling on the sidewalk and salivating like Cujo pretty much killed the mood. If you know what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eyes narrowed more intently, gold flecks rimming eyes dark with barely concealed lust. \u201cNo. I don\u2019t. Maybe you should stay in tonight and explain it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ensconced in her young world of emotional perplexities, the tell-tale signs of a clinched jaw and clouded eyes were lost to Cordelia. \u201cStay in? Are you insane? No way buster.\u201d Her hand balled into a small fist, Cordelia shook it at Angel daring him to defy her. \u201cThis is the party of the year. Everyone that is anyone will be there\u2026and that includes me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lindsey MacDonald was witnessing what could only be evil\u2019s interpretation of heaven. He had watched the vampire throw his weight around, stampede through the underbelly of LA spouting his newfound atonement and redemption. And now the great, holier-than-thou Angel was little more than a jealous schoolboy. Yes, life was good, and gloriously wicked for those who had the foresight to strike while the iron was hot.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take you.\u201d Lindsey stepped forward. His smile was warm and innocently boyish, his voice timid and uncertain. \u201cIt\u2019s at La Chaleur; right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, how did you know?\u201d A smile stretched across her face, its intensity lighting up the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike you said; it\u2019s the party of the year and only the elite make the guest list.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd yet you weren\u2019t invited.\u201d Angel flouted, looming over his despised adversary.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne the contrary, I have a standing invitation.\u201d Lindsey pulled a small rectangular card from his wallet, holding it up for the arrogant vampire\u2019s inspection.<\/p>\n

It was bright gold with glittery specs; and Angel had a sudden urge to shove it in a place that would permanently mar and taint it. There was one thing he was absolutely certain about in an uncertain world. Cordelia would not go out with Lindsey MacDonald.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m impressed, and more important, you\u2019ll fit the costume.\u201d Cordelia beamed, her eyes glued to the shimmering slip of paper. \u201cThe suit\u2019s downstairs; follow me. I\u2019ll help you get changed.\u201d Excitement returning in leaps and bounds, she ushered her stand-in to follow. \u201cAngel, you don\u2019t mind if Lindsey uses your bedroom-no-good.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel vaulted toward the elevator, his strides broad and quick. \u201cCor-\u201d The elevator doors slammed shut, flashes of bare skin and the gleam of her smile still burning his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell just happened here?\u201d He bellowed, swerving around to Wesley.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, it seems\u2026ahem\u2026\u201d Wesley tugged on his shirt, letting air underneath to cool his sweat-laden skin. \u201cCordelia is Catwoman and Lindsey will soon be Batman. Other than that, the facts are a bit hazy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you at least pretend to help?\u201d Angel stomped back and forth, his hand scrubbing across the back of his neck before moving to scrub over his face. \u201cLa Chaleur is French for heat.<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n

The name certainly fit, Wesley silently mused. His face was a blur of sensations, revealing only traces of his mounting nervousness. Discretion was a virtue when the situation called for calm and collected, but now was not the time for gentle persuasion. Angel was a time bomb, and the clock was ticking. The situation called for deliberate reaction.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood Lord man, get a hold of yourself. Cordelia is not interested in Lindsey MacDonald.\u201d Temporary insanity and fantasies that existed in a lonely corner of his mind fading into the background, rationale was taking charge. \u201cThe man\u2019s evil for heaven\u2019s sake. He is simply fulfilling an immediate need.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what I\u2019m afraid of. Lindsey will not be fulfilling anything for Cordelia. That\u2019s my\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour what, Angel?\u201d Wesley retaliated with a weary shake of his head. His new boss was good at heart, but stubborn as mule. Getting Angel to see reason was likely beyond his urbane training, but if Wesley had accomplished little else since arriving in LA, he had learned to persevere. \u201cIt\u2019s not your job to oversee your employees\u2019 social life, and it\u2019s certainly not your place.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCordelia is not just an employee.\u201d Angel angrily countered. This wasn\u2019t the time for rationality. The situation called for diving headfirst and worrying about fallout later. \u201cShe\u2019s\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel\u2019s voice faltered, and Wesley swallowed down the lump in his throat as he watched angry, dark eyes battle against fear This wasn\u2019t someone distressed over his charge. This was a man afraid of losing someone important to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cI care for her too Angel. Which is all the more reason to respect her choice of companions. Cordelia is a grown woman, albeit young and inexperienced, she has earned the right to make her own choices.\u201d<\/p>\n

His continued trek back and forth across the room slowed to a tired trudge. Defeated by sound judgment, Angel slumped into a chair, a surrendering sigh blowing from his lips. \u201cYou know, I hate it when you\u2019re logical.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wesley slipped his glasses onto his face, his index finger poking the frames until they settled in just the right spot on the bridge of his nose. \u201cYes well, it\u2019s a curse.\u201d<\/p>\n

Part\u00a0II<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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