DISCLAIMER: If I was Joss, I would have already made a public apology to the traumatized, disgusted fans for becoming such a complete corporate lapdog and sellout. Don't sue. I'm making no money. Although, I *am* beginning to wonder why I give his little monkey whore companies so much of *mine*, not to *mention* my valuable *time* and *energy*...okay, done with the mini-rant. *g*
RATING: PG-13
DISTRIBUTION: My beloved lists, ff.net, my site, and if you want it, feel free. Just tell me where it's going. I love to see my work on other sites - I'm like a parent visiting their kid at college. *g*
FEEDBACK: Aw, come on - you know you want to write some. You know you want to make me happy. But all flames will be immediately transferred to Dork!Angel. (You go, Ducks!) He'd be so much funnier if he was covered in third degree burns. And so much easier to watch.
DEDICATION: Serena, for all her fun rants, for her Skip fic that eased the pain and made me laugh my ass off, and for being my evil twin. *g* Or maybe she's the good one...whatever, it's twin-ness. Freda, for giving me such a kickass website in the first place. I bow in humbled awe and amazement and gratitude. *big hug* And Anja, for being such a sweetie.
TIMELINE: Let's go...about a week and a half after 'Waiting in the Wings'. *gags and claws at eyes* I needed therapy. Oh, and Groos is still hanging around. Everyone's favorite big Ken doll. *g*
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'd like to make it perfectly clear before we get into the fic that I am *not* an A/C fan. A/C=Anti Chemistry. *g* So if you're looking for a big, smorshy, "Cordy realizes she loooooooooooooves Angel after they macked like bunnies in a cheap 'I Only Have Eyes For You' rip off" fic, go somewhere else. And I mean that in a nice way. *g* Or, if you're thinking "Hmm, well, I already opened the page...as long as I'm here, I might as well read this Molly chick's story," don't flame me just because I don't agree with your ship. Critique the writing, not the pairings, please.
MORE AUTHOR'S NOTES: Speaking of critiquing writing...this is very much not my most polished work. But I needed a break from the heavy angst for a little while. *g* Just thought I'd mention it. I needed a Joss-fixer. And this really is a thinly veiled poke at the writers. So take it as you will. *grumbles* God, I hate writing Dork!Angel.

Angel had been trying to outgrow brooding, and mostly, he'd been successful. As of late, he hadn't had cause to fall back on it. He'd been busy, with his son, and the many, many cases the firm had been taking on...but even with all the wonderfully mundane other things he had to occupy his mind with, it seemed to be a habit he just couldn't kick.

Especially when it came to matters of the heart. They didn't make a patch for this.

Cordelia. He loved her name. Cor-del-ia. It had a musical quality to it, lilting like her voice when she raised it to tease him or coo to Connor. An appropriate name, he felt. She was so classically beautiful; she deserved an equally classically beautiful name.

Her skin. Her hair. Her eyes. And she was beautiful on the inside, too, he knew. She'd changed so much from the vapid cheerleader he'd once known, grown into someone mature and caring. Someone who'd grown from shallow to deep. A beauty queen to a warrior. Given the time, he could name a million more things that he adored about her.

And he was a man. He had a man's desires and wants, and how long could he really be expected to not *act* upon said desires and wants? He'd been alone long enough, and now...now Angel felt as though he deserved to know love again.

With Cor-del-ia.

There was only one problem: the Groosalugg. Or Groos, as she insisted on calling him, and insisted others call him whenever he ventured over to the Angel Investigations headquarters. And given the fact that Groos seemed to be permanently attached to her luscious hip, he was around quite a lot.

It didn't make for a very happy souled vampire.

Angel sighed and reclined in his leather chair. Wesley's leather chair, he mentally amended. He wondered if he should just give up. Really, it was a hopeless cause. He'd been right when he told Lorne that he had nothing to offer her. And it was true. Hell, it was the reason why he'd left Buffy -

//No, no, no. No thinking of Buffy. Cordelia.//

But he could always give it a shot, right? According to Lorne and Fred, they had kye-rumption working in their favor. And Cordy was an adult. She could make her own choices. If he presented his case to her, in a logical manner, and maybe made a chart -

No. That was too stalker-o-rific.

What about sweeping her off her feet and winning her back from Groos? That was it! He'd give Gunn some money, and tell him to go buy a dozen roses from the florist around the corner -

No. That was too cheesy. Besides the fact that these days, Gunn would only turn around and hand the roses to Fred. Between Cordy and Groos, and Gunn and Fred, there'd been quite a number of PDA's around *Angel's* hotel lately.

It comforted Angel somewhat to know that he wasn't alone in his misery; Wesley had alternated between being deeply depressed and easily irritated throughout the past week, especially when he'd come upon Gunn and Fred. When Angel wasn't busy bemoaning his own sufferings at the sight of Cordy's tongue halfway down Groosie Boy's throat, Angel felt great empathy for his best friend. Wes was suffering, too. The one woman he'd cared about in...well, a long time, had ditched him for another man, right under his nose. Not only another man, but a man he'd considered a close friend. It had to hurt.

He'd have to throw himself and Wes a pity party some night. They'd go out, get drunk, and complain about how horrible women were. Normal guys did that, right?

But Cordelia wasn't horrible. Cordy was wonderful. He was the one with the problem. Was it love, or lust, or was it just loneliness? Whatever it was, it was powerful. He didn't feel quite the surge of emotion towards her that he'd felt towards Buffy -

//No! NO THOUGHTS OF BUFFY!!//

Maybe he should just...talk to her. Explain that his feelings for her were evolving, and if there was any chance she could feel the same...A small smile crossed his face as he pictured it. There. That was the solution. The next time he saw Cordelia, he'd take her arm, walk her into the office, sit her down, and explain it easily. Maybe even crack a few jokes. Make her smile. It'd be perfect.

He could almost hear her voice right now, confessing that she felt the same way. He closed his eyes briefly, indulging in a momentary fantasy where she breathed that she loved him, and their lips came closer, and closer...

"Hey, Angel?"

Angel jerked upright in the chair and nearly feel over. "Cordy!" he managed, startled at seeing her. it was almost as if his thoughts had conjured her. "God. You scared me."

"Sorry," the object of his desire responded. She was gorgeous as ever, leaning against the doorway in a pair of tight fitting jeans and a slinky black top that dangled enticingly from her bronzed shoulders. Buffy had had a top almost exactly like that -

//STOP IT. You are *not* thinking of Buffy. Cordelia. She's beautiful.//

"It's all right. Uh...come on in. You're in early."

"Actually, I came by because I was hoping to talk with you," she said, sounding almost nervous. "Where is everybody?"

"They're not here yet," Angel responded with a slight smile. "We've got a good twenty five minutes. And Connor and Lorne are still asleep."

Her brow crinkled adorably. "Where's Fred?"

"With Gunn," he said, a little awkwardly. "At his place."

"Good," she said, sounding relieved. "Angel...if you have some time, can we talk? It's really, really important."

"Sure," he said, a little concerned, although he couldn't deny that his dead heart seemed to leap within his chest. "Close the door, and come on in. What's going on?"

Cordelia closed the door, but instead of taking a seat, she began to pace. "Okay, I'm just gonna jump right in. You like Groos, right?'

"Yeah," Angel lied. "He's...he's one swell guy."

"Argh! I *know*! And that's the problem," Cordy said, abandoning her pacing to flop dramatically down into a chair. "He's so sweet, and considerate, and thoughtful, and Angel, the way he *kisses* - "

"You don't have to share *all* the details, Cordy," he told her uncomfortably. Jealously.

She waved her hand. "Anyway. He treats me like I'm a princess."

"You should be treated that way," Angel responded, his voice low. "You deserve it."

"I know," she said tiredly. "I mean, all that love and unwavering devotion...how can I *not* return it, y'know? I thought he was my One True Love. But, Angel, it's weird." She leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk, and looked straight into his eyes. "He's everything I always thought I'd want. And now that I have it, it's not...the way I thought it would be. What I want is...something I shouldn't be wanting. At all. Because I know...well, who I *want* isn't interested, and even if he *was*...it's impossible."

//Oh, yes. Yes, the heart is definitely leaping.//

"Really," he inquired romantically, also leaning forward. "Cordy, I'm sure if you just told him point blank, how you feel..."

"And I'm beginning to wonder if I made the right choice after all," she went on, as though he hadn't even spoken. "That night? After the ballet?"

"Yes?" he breathed, hardly daring to hope.

"Angel, I...I think I made a mistake telling you this," she said abruptly, changing tactics. Suddenly, she was leaning back in her chair and glaring at him. "If you aren't even *interested* - "

"Whoa! No, no, I'm interested! I swear!" he protested. "Why would you think I wasn't interested?"

"Your eyes got all glazed over," she sulked, scowling. "You weren't paying attention."

"I was, too!" he told her. "You were wondering if you made the right choice about...something."

"Okay," she relented. "I'll continue. But only if you promise to *care*."

"I care very deeply," he assured her.

"Anyway. Let's just call this guy...uh, this guy. We've been really close friends for a long time now, and we spend a ton of time together. Even outside of work."

"You have," Angel agreed happily.

"And I just feel like...maybe we didn't have that much in common when we first started out. But we've both grown so much."

"You have," he said again, unable to keep the silly grin from spreading over his face. This was the cutest thing he could think of, Cordelia's roundabout way of telling him she loved him.

"It's only natural that our feelings would evolve, you know? Because of the intense situation we work in."

"Of course."

"But besides Groos, and the fact that I don't want to hurt him, this guy is still totally in love with another woman. I don't think I could ever really..." Suddenly, she was looking deeply into Angel's eyes again. "I couldn't take her place in his heart. There would always be a bigger piece that would belong to her."

"That's not necessarily wrong. It's understandable that she would always have part of his heart. And she'll always have part of his. A large part," Angel admitted. It was better to come to terms with his relationship with Buffy now than have to deal with repercussions later. In some ways, it was easier to refer to himself in third person. "He'll always love her. But sometimes, you have to move on. And maybe...maybe those two people had a very different kind of love that what you would have."

"That's true," Cordy said thoughtfully. "And there are all kinds of ways of romance-y love, right? It could be something different, but just as meaningful."

"Right," he agreed.

She sighed, then leaned in a little closer. "I didn't even realize it 'til the night of the ballet," she told him wistfully. "When I saw how much pain he was in...I mean, I think this has been a long time coming, but that night, it was like it all became clear. Until Groos showed up, and everything got blown to Hell because seeing him got me so excited and happy, but...I just wish I'd figured out how I felt sooner. I can't believe it took me this long to get it."

"Me, either," he told her huskily.

Her eyes widened. "You knew? You could tell?"

"Oh, Cordelia," he said tenderly. "Of course I could. I knew there had to be something there."

She covered her face despondently with her hands. "Oh, God," she moaned. "I was too obvious, wasn't I? I'm as transparent as a window."

"Not at all," he rushed to assure her, not wanting her to be in the least embarrassed. "I just know you so well by now, Cordy. It was clear to *me*. I can't speak for anyone else."

"Good," she sighed, relieved. She lounged back in the chair again, lifting her long, shapely legs to rest on Angel's - Wesley's - desk. "So you think I should just tell him, then?" she mused.

"Definitely," Angel enthused.

"What if he doesn't feel the same way?" she asked, her voice tiny. "What if it screws up our friendship?"

"It won't," he told her softly. He got up from behind the desk and walked to her side, kneeled next to her, and looked into her eyes. "Cordelia, he feels exactly the same way."

Her eyes opened wide. "He does?" she said dreamily. "You really think he does?"

"I know he does," Angel told her emotionally, leaning forward to capture her lips in the kiss he'd been dreaming of. It wouldn't be like his first kiss with Buffy -

//Stop. Thinking. About. Buffy. Right. Now.//

Cordelia leapt to her feet, cutting him off at the pass, and threw her arms around him. "Angel, you're the best!" she said enthusiastically, hugging him tightly.

Angel wished she hadn't stopped him from kissing her, but the hug was nice, too. "You, too, Cordy," he told her tenderly, hugging her back. "I'm so glad you realized it - "

The front door of the building opened with an audible click. "Hello," Wesley called tiredly. "I've arrived for work."

Cordelia abruptly pulled out of Angel's embrace and smoothed her hair with trembling fingers. "Okay. Now or never. Do I look okay?"

"Absolutely stunning," he assured her, wondering *why* she thought he would care.

"Thank you so, so much, Angel," she told him gratefully. "I owe you one. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck....wait, what?" he asked, suddenly puzzled. This was not exactly the way he'd imagined things happening, and he was more than a little confused. "Cordelia - "

But she didn't answer, because she was walking quickly out to the lobby, and right up to Wesley. "Hey, Wes?" she said timidly. *Timidly*. Since when was Cordelia even *remotely* shy around Wes?

Angel stood in the doorway of the office, completely befuddled at this point.

The Englishman turned to give her a smile. Cordy was the only person he hadn't been upset with in the past week, it seemed. He'd always remained easygoing with her, able to be himself around her when he was snapping at everyone else. "Morning, Cordy. How are you?"

"Good," she told him. "I...you? How are you?"

"I'm all right," he said softly. "Cordy, as long as we have a few moments...I've wanted to say thank you for awhile now. I've always considered you a close friend, and you've been absolutely wonderful to me this week. I'm sure I haven't been the easiest person to get along with. But you've cheered me up a great deal. It means quite a lot to me, especially the fact that you would detract time from your own boyfriend to spend time with me." He gave her a smile. "Plus the fact that you compromised on movies and restaurants."

//Cordy and Wes have been hanging out?// Angel thought.

"And bars. Don't forget bars. It was fun," Cordy teased cheerfully. Then her face took on a slightly worried note. "I wanted to ask...are you still...y'know. With the crush on Fred, and the Gunn bitterness?" she asked, sounding almost hopeful.

He gave a small laugh. "I'm recovering," he reassured her. "Far less crushed and bitter. Was there something else you needed to talk to me about?"

"Yes!" she almost trilled. "I mean, uh, yes. Look, I'm pretty sure this'll seem like it's coming out of nowhere, but Wes, we've been friends for a long time now. And I care about you so much. The night we saw Giselle, it killed me to see you so upset over Gunn and Fred. I mean, the parts when I wasn't...snoring," she added. "I feel horrible. I mean, I encouraged you to go for it, with 'the iron is hot' and all that, and you got hurt because of me. Me and my big mouth and me and my complete inability to figure out who Fred was *really* talking about."

"Oh, Cordelia," he said quickly, taking her arms gently and turning her towards him. "It wasn't your fault. I don't hold you in the least responsible for this."

"Well, I do!" she protested. "And...at the same time...okay, there's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to blurt it out. I was really, really jealous. And it took me awhile to figure it out, but I was. Jealous. Of you. And Fred. Really jealous of Fred," she babbled.

Wesley's eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean?" he questioned carefully, a sudden spark in his warm eyes.

//Yeah, what *does* she mean?// Angel mentally echoed.

"'Cause you care about her so much," Cordelia told Wesley softly. "And I realized that...that I care about you. That way. And I have for awhile now, and I've just been to dumb to realize it. And I was overcompensating by shoving you at Fred, but when we joke around, and when you smile at me, and when we fight side by side...I don't know, I always get this happy, warm, fuzzy...thing, in my stomach."

"You care about me?" Wesley asked softly, seeming disbelieving. "As...as more than a friend and coworker?"

"Yes," she told him emotionally. "I think I love you, Wesley. There. I said it. Oh, God. Okay. Feel free to fire me."

"What...what about Groos?" Wesley managed.

"He's sweet," she told him. "And he treats me well. But when I think about it, he doesn't know me. Not really, not the way you do. Plus, it'll take forever to get him to understand modern culture. And, Wesley...it's...we're both all superhero-y. We both fight the good fight, and we do it together. But more than that, you knew me when I *wasn't* the person I am now, but you cared about me, anyway. I feel like...like I belong with you," she whispered.

"Cordy," Wesley said tenderly. "Do you mean that? Do you honestly mean this?"

//No, she doesn't!// Angel mentally protested.

"Completely," she told him, her voice still quiet. "I understand if you don't feel the same way, but if there's any part of you that's saying you think you could - "

She was interrupted when Wesley pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers in a fairly earth shattering kiss, proving he was well skilled beyond their first disastrous attempt back in the Sunnydale library. "Any part of me that's saying I think I could what?" he asked with a smile when they finally broke apart.

"Kiss me again, you geek," she told him happily, pulling his face back down to hers.

Angel could only stand in the doorway, staring at them dazedly.

Once they parted again, Cordy took a tiny step back and ran her fingers through her hair. "But I don't want to come in second to Fred," she told him softly. "I don't want you to be with me just because you're lonely."

"Never," Wesley assured her. "Fred is a wonderful woman, but I was never in love with her, Cordelia. It was merely a crush. I hadn't been with a woman in so long, and I never thought that you would see me as anything more than a friend - "

"You had feelings for me?" Cordelia asked, her eyes wide.

"Since last year," he admitted. "I thought Fred was very beautiful, and you encouraged me to go out with her. I figured dating Fred would be the best way to help me get over you, because she's certainly attractive, and very smart, and I care about her a great deal. Certainly I was hurt when she chose Gunn, and disappointed. But...do you remember the evening you all came over for dinner? I asked you if you thought we were..."

"Meant for each other," she said softly. "Oh, Wes. You meant me?"

"It was a rather pathetic hint," he said, with a small laugh. "I wasn't surprised when you didn't pick up on it. But it was my last ditch attempt before finally deciding to meet someone new. And when you told me I should ask Fred out...after that, I decided I had nothing to lose by pursuing her. But now...if you're willing to leave Groos..."

"Groos who?" Cordy asked. "Oh..." She flung her arms around his waist and buried her head in his neck. "God, Wesley...and you don't care that I'm a half demon now? It really doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all," he laughed. "In fact, I find it rather sexy when you levitate."

She giggled and leaned up to kiss him again. "And it's all thanks to Angel," she said happily. "He told me to just come right out and tell you." She grabbed Wesley's hand and spun him around, to where Angel was still standing, shell shocked, in the doorway. "You're the *best*, Angel," she chirped.

He managed a weak smile. "Well...you two crazy kids. Who didn't see the kye-rumption there?" he told them pathetically.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "God, I hate that word. What the hell does it *mean*, anyway? Every time Fred or Lorne or Groos say it, they change the meaning. It's like, use English, for God's sake. We're not in Pylea anymore."

The phone rang in the background, and Cordelia reluctantly turned from Wesley's side to go answer it. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless!" she chirped happily.

Wesley, wearing an uncharacteristically bright grin, walked to Angel. "I don't believe this," he said, sounding thrilled. "Cordelia cares about me. This is...remarkable. Wonderful. She's lovely, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Angel said, a hangdog expression on his face. "She is. You're lucky."

//There goes my shot at finally getting over Buffy....*not* Buffy! At dating again! At knowing love again! Nothing about Buffy!//

"Uh huh. Okay. really? Oh, God, is she okay? No, absolutely. Sure. Good idea. Okay. Okay, he'll be there as soon as possible. It was nice to...meet you, sort of. Bye." Cordelia hung up the phone and turned to the two men, her sunny smile dialed down a few notches.

"New case?" Angel asked eagerly, hoping for something to take his mind off the sudden romantic development between his best friend and the woman he...

//Loved? No, that's not the right word. Hmm. What do I *really* feel for Cordy?//

"Sort of," Cordelia said gently. "Angel...it's Buffy."

The world tilted beneath his feet. "It's what?" he choked out, between dead lungs that were suddenly squeezing too tightly together. "No. She's not...no. Not again. No."

"Oh, God, no," Cordelia said hurriedly. "Nothing like that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He was dimly aware of the pressure of Wesley's hand on his arm, holding him firmly upright. Which was good, because his legs had turned shaky, and he didn't seem to be able to find his voice through the wave of blind, desperate panic that surged through him. "What happened then, Cordy?" Wesley asked softly, but firmly.

Cordelia took a deep breath. "I'm not exactly sure," she admitted. "There was some woman named Tara on the phone. She said she's a friend of Buffy's?"

"Willow," Angel managed. "Buffy told me...when I went to see her. Told me that's Willow's girlfriend's name."

"Okay. Well, she didn't tell me too much. She just said that...some stuff had happened to Buffy lately. More stuff. Of the 'bad' variety, and she's really not in the greatest of places. She told me that she'd promised Buffy she wouldn't tell anyone what was happening, but she said Buffy needed help. More than what her friends could give her, and she figured that you'd be the best person to call," Cordelia told him.

"Bad stuff?" Angel echoed.

"That's all she said. She stuttered a little."

"And Buffy needs me?"

"That's kind of what it sounds like," Cordelia said sympathetically. "Do you want us to go with you?"

"No," he said abruptly. "No. I'll get Connor, and I'll leave right now."

"Be careful," Wesley cautioned. "Angel, if there's anything you need - "

"I'll call," Angel said over his shoulder, already hurrying up the stairs to wake his son. "You two...just be happy together. Take care of each other."

"Will do," Cordy said brightly, concern over Buffy forgotten as she melded back into Wesley's loving, open arms.

"Now," Angel heard Wesley say behind him as he exited the room rapidly. "Let's discuss the things *we* can do with your loofah, shall we?"

Things had suddenly become clear to Angel, in a way they hadn't been for the last few months. The utter panic and soul crushing fear when Cordelia had said "It's Buffy,"... he just knew, in that single instant. He wasn't over her. He wouldn't ever really be over her, and as much as he cared for Cordelia...it couldn't ever be love.

He wouldn't begrudge Wes and Cordy their newfound emotions. They were two of his closest friends, and if they could find what they needed in each other...he couldn't ever resent that. Not when it would mean seeing them this happy.

And if Buffy needed him, he'd have more important things to worry about. If Buffy needed him...no matter what the price, he'd pay it. He'd be there for her.

Forever. That was, after all, the whole point.

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