{"id":4469,"date":"2015-07-08T22:30:10","date_gmt":"2015-07-08T21:30:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/?p=4469"},"modified":"2015-07-08T22:42:54","modified_gmt":"2015-07-08T21:42:54","slug":"the-case-of-the-missing-santas-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/2015\/07\/08\/the-case-of-the-missing-santas-1\/","title":{"rendered":"The Case of the Missing Santas. 1"},"content":{"rendered":"

Part 1<\/b>: Wednesday, December 22, 1999<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d Angel\u2019s voice startled Cordelia.<\/p>\n

Standing atop his desk, her balance was precarious, at best. Damn vampire, how could he be that big and still move around the place in complete silence?<\/p>\n

\u201cJeez, Angel, stalk much?\u201d She glared at him, wobbling on her heels, and losing her grip on the large piece of tinsel she was trying to attach to the ceiling. It coiled to the floor like a gaudy snake.<\/p>\n

Standing, hands in pockets, in the doorway of the shadowy office, he looked more annoyed than when she\u2019d dropped peanut butter in his bed. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, duh, putting up the Christmas decorations,\u201d she said, accepting his hand, and descending with as much grace as her skirt would allow. His deepening scowl indicated he could see the little crescent-shaped dents her stilettos had made in the mahogany desktop. Obviously he was unaware how trendy distressed wood was.<\/p>\n

She moved to retrieve the tinsel, but Angel planted his boot on it. \u201cCan we not?\u201d he said, pointing towards the main office, where the dusty mid-afternoon sunlight filtered in slanting beams through the windows, causing a myriad of decorations to sparkle and shimmer.<\/p>\n

\u201cAngel, just because we\u2019re poor doesn\u2019t mean we shouldn\u2019t celebrate. This is my first Christmas in LA and I won\u2019t have you brooding all over it.\u201d Cordelia was pleased how steady her voice was, when her insides felt more like jello in an earthquake. This was going to be harder than she thought.<\/p>\n

Last Christmas she was skiing in Aspen, wearing designer everything, getting bundles of money from her parents, and wasting altogether too much energy hating Xander Harris. It may have seemed like the worst Christmas ever, what with the broken heart and the hole in her guts, but this year felt twenty times worse. Fifty, maybe.<\/p>\n

This Christmas she had no money, no family, and no friends — well, none that were actually alive.<\/p>\n

And there it was again — the grief. Simmering under the false cheer, threatening to burst out at the worst possible moment. Her chest ached and her throat closed up. Damn you Doyle for leaving — and for leaving the visions. An ornament or a piece of jewellery would have been way more appropriate.<\/p>\n

Maybe Angel sensed her melancholy, because he let out a long, audible sigh. \u201cChristmas is just another reason for stores to con people into buying things they can\u2019t afford, to give to people they don\u2019t even like.\u201d<\/p>\n

Okay, Angel, way to spread the cheer. No, dammit, she would not let this get her down. They were going to have a nice Christmas, even if it killed her. And not even Angel could stand in the way of Cordelia Chase on a mission.<\/p>\n

She tugged at the tinsel. \u201cListen to you, Ebenezer. Christmas is not just about presents. It\u2019s also about eating yourself silly and drinking way too much. Though in your case, that\u2019s the same thing, isn\u2019t it? What do vampires do at Christmas? Drink a turkey? Can the undead get salmonella?\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel lifted his foot. That was easier than she thought. Round one to Queen C.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello? Angel? Corde — oh there you are.\u201d Wesley\u2019s head appeared around the office door.<\/p>\n

\u201cWesley.\u201d Angel nodded towards the skinny Englishman.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Wesley, how are the rogue demons?\u201d Cordelia smiled, knowing her mockery of his self-imposed title drove him nuts.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs I explained before, they\u2019re not\u2026 Oh, super, Christmas decorations! May I help?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGive me strength,\u201d Angel muttered. He took a deep breath, then another, and motioned to the doorway, his mouth setting in a grim line. \u201cYou can do what you like out there, but my office is a Christmas-free-zone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine, party-pooper. Wesley and I will aaah!\u201d Cordelia threw the piece of tinsel to the floor, one hand flying to her face. Oh, God, here it came. Brain-bender the second. And it was a hell of a lot more painful than brain-bender the first.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll what?\u201d Wesley frowned. \u201cSmack ourselves in the head?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo — she\u2019s having a vision.\u201d Angel\u2019s voice became fuzzy and far away. Screaming pain cracked through her skull, the pressure building and pounding behind her eyes. They were gonna pop out, she was sure of it. Angel\u2019s fingers closed over her shoulders, his touch barely registering in her howling brain as she crumpled to the floor.<\/p>\n

Then came the images — fast and blurred, and it was hard to make them out. The place she saw was almost comforting in its familiarity. But something was very, very wrong. Cordelia\u2019s heart hammered in her throat, her hands sweating and shaking, despair wrenching at her gut.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood heavens, it looks rather dramatic,\u201d Wesley\u2019s voice grew louder in her ears as the vision began to fade.<\/p>\n

Cordelia opened her eyes gingerly. Angel was kneeling over her, his face contorted with about as much concern as she\u2019d ever seen him express. She sucked in a deep breath. \u201cPlease tell me I\u2019m not drooling.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no drool.\u201d He reached up to his desk and caught a tissue between his fingers. \u201cBut, there\u2019s — a thing\u2026\u201d He pointed to his nostril.<\/p>\n

Oh, yay, now she was shooting stuff out her nose. She felt a pang of nostalgia for the drooling as she accepted the tissue, noting with gratitude that Angel and Wesley were both pretending to be interested in other parts of the room.<\/p>\n

After a few moments of blowing and wiping, she felt strong enough to sit up.<\/p>\n

Angel sat back on his heels. \u201cCould you make anything out?\u201d<\/p>\n

She knew where it was now — the place she\u2019d seen. \u201cThe mall\u201d.<\/p>\n

\u201cDemons are attacking the mall?\u201d Wesley sounded excited.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d she said, vaguely annoyed that the source of her pain seemed to be making him so darn cheerful. \u201cAll I saw was the mall and Santa\u2019s grotto. It was empty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe mall?\u201d Angel helped her to stand.<\/p>\n

She shot him an irritated glance before pulling her arm away. \u201cNo dumbass, the grotto. We have to go and check it out. Someone was really, really scared. Oh, God, I felt it, Angel. I felt someone\u2019s feelings\u2026\u201d Now she was shaking. Doyle had never mentioned anything about feel-o-vision. It truly, monumentally sucked.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay, we\u2019ll sort it out. Coming, Wesley?\u201d Angel grabbed for his car keys.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

The thought of the mall terrified Angel. Everything he despised under one roof — crowds, commercialism, mirrored walls — and Muzak. Plus, his last mall visit had contained just a little too much rocket launcher for his liking. A shudder jolted down his back as he huddled under the blanket in the back seat of the Plymouth. If it hadn\u2019t been for the anguish in Cordelia\u2019s voice, he would have been tempted to send Wesley alone. And he wouldn\u2019t have caved when she insisted on driving.<\/p>\n

The tires squealed as they took a corner too fast. \u201cCordelia, please be careful,\u201d he moaned, his stomach lurching along with the car.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you rather drive? Oh, that\u2019s right, you can\u2019t, what with the setting sun shining in the windows,\u201d she snapped. \u201cI\u2019m doing the best I can. This thing handles like a tank.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel made a mental note to limit Cordelia\u2019s use of his car to emergencies. They screeched around another corner. Make that life or death emergencies.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook at that. Why does everyone leave their shopping to the last minute?\u201d Wesley said. \u201cI always have my Christmas shopping done by Aug-argh!\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel could only guess that Wesley\u2019s head had collided with the raised roof of the convertible, as they bounced over a speed hump. \u201cCordy,\u201d he grunted.<\/p>\n

\u201cKeep your fangs on,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m used to driving cars that actually have shock absorbers.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mental note number two. Avoid arguing with post-vision Cordelia.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll be driving one missing half its transmission in a minute,\u201d Wesley said. \u201cOkay, Angel, we\u2019re in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank God.\u201d Angel discarded the blanket and sat up. \u201cI\u2019m driving home.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wesley turned around in his seat. \u201cSunset\u2019s over an hour away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel took a deep breath to calm his churning stomach. \u201cThen we\u2019ll kill time.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Angel emerged from the elevator into his own private hell.<\/p>\n

The mall consisted of five levels. The center of the building was an atrium, through which something charitably described as a sculpture thrust its way towards the domed glass roof. Stores ringed each level, and the pedestrian areas were decorated with mirrored pillars and potted shrubbery. Every available surface and window was festooned with wreaths, tinsel, glass baubles and lights that flashed in a multitude of colours and patterns.<\/p>\n

And it was *busy*. Shoppers moved as one huge, amorphous blob, ebbing and flowing from store to store. Angel figured it was probably normal, being three days before Christmas. Or maybe it was always this crowded. He tended to avoid anywhere that teemed with this much humanity.<\/p>\n

Being here was causing him more discomfort than the Wrentarth talon that Cordelia and Doyle had dug out of from between his shoulder blades last month.<\/p>\n

Someone bumped him as they bustled past, barely glancing up to apologize. The tense atmosphere was aggravating his already anxious state. He could smell the frustration. It oozed off people as they hurried about, struggling to move through the crowds.<\/p>\n

The carols blaring from tinny speakers proclaimed this was a time for peace and goodwill. A time to celebrate with family and friends. A time to be full and happy and generous. Yet all he saw was people too stressed to smile at each other.<\/p>\n

He *had* liked Christmas, a long time ago. The memory of sweet little Kathy was still vivid. She would help their mother re-set the table, on Christmas Eve, after their evening meal had been cleared away. Together, they would place the traditional loaf of caraway seed and raisin bread on it, alongside a pitcher of milk and a candle. He always tried to sneak a bit of the bread. His mother always caught him.<\/p>\n

He and Darla had made their own traditions. They\u2019d dressed in fine clothes; sauntered about whichever town they were in, finding gifts for each other. Some were purchased, some were stolen, some were killed. They had enjoyed themselves, in their own way.<\/p>\n

Drusilla had loved it best of all. Her favourite game was to sneak up on a group of carollers — see if she could snatch someone away, unnoticed, and drain them before the song had ended. The strains of something pseudo-traditional caught his ear, dragging him back to the dark, lamp-lit streets, laughing as he watched her pick out victims like candy from a shop window. He could almost smell the blood, and his stomach twisted and yawned with familiar need.<\/p>\n

And then came the nausea and self-abhorrence that had filled so many Christmases since — the ones spent laying in gutters, filthy and awash with despair — and the sharp memory of standing on the ridge in Sunnydale, waiting for the sun to take him.<\/p>\n

Coming here was a bad idea.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh my God!\u201d Cordelia squealed, startling him.<\/p>\n

Wesley tensed, his eyes lighting with anticipation. \u201cWhat is it? Do you see something from your vision?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVictoria\u2019s Secret. We *have* to go in!\u201d she clapped her hands and dashed into a shop.<\/p>\n

\u201cCordelia, this is no time for shopping,\u201d Wesley called. She didn\u2019t turn around, disappearing into the sea of undergarments. He sighed. \u201cI guess we should go in and wait for her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Angel nodded. The last thing he wanted was for them all to split up. He didn\u2019t trust his reactions, alone in this place. Plus, they had about an hour up their sleeves. How long could this small diversion possibly take?<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Angel glanced over at Wesley, his impatience growing. \u201cTime?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo minutes after you last asked.\u201d Wesley sounded more than a little irritated. He was also quite pink in the face, apparently embarrassed by their proximity to women\u2019s intimate apparel.<\/p>\n

Angel shifted in his seat, and felt his anxiety crank up another notch. Thank goodness he didn\u2019t have any blood pressure, or it would have been going through the roof now. \u201cThat makes twenty minutes. Do you think she\u2019s all right? Maybe she had a vision, and fell, or something attacked her in there\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure she\u2019s fine,\u201d Wesley said, through gritted teeth.<\/p>\n

Another bored-looking man, seated at the far side of the waiting area, smiled at them. \u201cWomen, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cQuite.\u201d Wesley nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on his feet.<\/p>\n

This, then, was obviously normal. Angel breathed a sigh of relief. Of course — that man had been there at least as long as him and Wesley. Angel felt an unusual sense of solidarity with him, and managed a smile and a nod in the man\u2019s direction.<\/p>\n

Another few minutes passed. Angel\u2019s normal ability to sit and contemplate the universe seemed to have deserted him. The whole vibe of the mall made him too tense. Perhaps a quick circuit of the store was in order, just to make sure nothing demonic was going on. He stood up, and then sat down, and then stood up again. \u201cI\u2019m going to look around a bit. Wesley?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEr, no, thank you, I\u2019ll just wait here until one of you returns,\u201d Wesley replied, still staring with immense interest at the floor.<\/p>\n

Angel wandered about the store, relieved to be doing *something*, and marvelling at how women\u2019s corsetry had changed over the years. He\u2019d seen his fair share of it. Gone were the bones and cruel, pinching corsets that Darla had laced herself into, and he had frequently torn off her. This stuff was light, lacy, and he guessed much more comfortable — and easier to remove. He reached out to feel a floral-patterned bra, and his fingers pressed against the underwire. Okay, so maybe not that much more comfortable\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I help you sir?\u201d A woman\u2019s voice startled him.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, no, I\u2019m — just looking.\u201d He snatched his hand away, wondering if he looked as guilty as he felt — a pervert fondling the underwear.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomething for your girlfriend?\u201d she said, persistent. \u201cWe have a lovely range of camisoles, if you\u2019re not sure of her cup size.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCup size?\u201d Angel looked around for a means of escape, his stomach knotting. Racks of coloured silk and lace loomed around him like a maze. He was out of his depth. He didn\u2019t belong here, amongst these people, and this new-fangled corsetry that he didn\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n

The woman looked at him with undisguised pity. \u201cOkay, maybe we\u2019d better try nightwear. I can show you something in a nice mauve satin.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d he barked, and then held up his hands when she jumped and pressed her fingers to her mouth, shocked. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, I — I\u2019m just waiting for a friend.\u201d<\/p>\n

She backed away. \u201cWell, why don\u2019t you go sit in the waiting area, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, sorry.\u201d He nodded, relieved to be off the hook. Turning his back on the startled woman, he hurried back to the safety of the changing rooms.<\/p>\n

As Angel neared the place where he\u2019d left Wesley, the sound of a commotion caught his attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can assure you that\u2019s not what I was doing.\u201d Wesley\u2019s voice grew louder as he appeared around the corner, flanked by two security guards. \u201cAngel, help me!\u201d he said, at their eyes met.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d Angel asked, holding out a hand to stall the men.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe caught your friend here trying to get into the women\u2019s changing rooms,\u201d one of them said.<\/p>\n

Wesley frowned. \u201cI was just trying to see if Cordelia was all right,\u201d and then he mouthed \u2018vampire\u2019, motioning towards the changing rooms with his eyes.<\/p>\n

Angel inhaled, taking in the scents around him. Humans, perfume, a little sweat. No vampire. He shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, well, there you go,\u201d Wesley muttered, drooping a little.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you taking him?\u201d Angel addressed his query to the other guard.<\/p>\n

\u201cManager\u2019s office. C\u2019mon pal,\u201d the man said, pulling on Wesley\u2019s elbow.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Cordelia checked she was buttoned up correctly, and gathered the assortment of bras and panties she\u2019d tried on. Once, she would have considered wearing Victoria\u2019s Secret as a lowering of her standards. These days, her budget was too tight even for these prices. Her old stuff would just have to hold together a little longer, because she sure as hell wasn\u2019t going to stoop to cheap and nasty.<\/p>\n

When she entered the store, she\u2019d been consumed with the thought that just trying on new stuff would make her feel better. But all it had done was depress her more. Window-shopping was a soul-destroying experience — one she figured she\u2019d never get used to. She missed the dainty little bags and things wrapped in tissue paper. Coming away from a shop empty-handed defied the natural order of the universe.<\/p>\n

She emerged from the changing rooms to find Angel, standing awkwardly, hands deep in the pockets of his duster. His expression changed from near-panic to relief when he spotted her.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Angel,\u201d she said, glancing around. \u201cWhere\u2019s Wesley?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStore security took him away,\u201d he said, looking miserable again.<\/p>\n

Her eyes widened with surprise. \u201cOh, is that what the commotion was? Boy, you can\u2019t take him anywhere. I didn\u2019t pick Wesley as a pervert.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe thought there was a vampire in the changing rooms.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stiffened, and he must have noticed, because he added, \u201cDon\u2019t worry, there\u2019s nothing here. I\u2019d sense it if there was.\u201d<\/p>\n

She began to chuckle, despite herself. This could only happen to *her* in a mall. \u201cI guess we should go rescue him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess we should.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cordelia approached the changing-room assistant and handed over the things she\u2019d tried on. \u201cThanks, I\u2019ll leave these for today.\u201d She held back one bra, a gorgeous azure floral pattern. Just one thing. It would make all the difference if she could only have this. But that would leave her without enough money for next week\u2019s food. Sighing, she added it to the pile.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not buying anything?\u201d Angel asked, looking confused.<\/p>\n

She put on her biggest fake smile. \u201cNo, didn\u2019t really like any of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd it took you thirty minutes to come to that conclusion?\u201d he muttered, falling in behind her as she headed for the doors.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, you wanted to kill time,\u201d she said, wanting to put as much distance between her and the blue satin as possible, before her resolve crumbled.<\/p>\n

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

Part 1: Wednesday, December 22, 1999 \u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d Angel\u2019s voice startled Cordelia. Standing atop his desk, her balance was precarious, at best. Damn…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4469","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-completed-fics"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4469","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4469"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4469\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4469"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4469"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4469"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}