Email: mail@cbaird82.freeserve.co.uk
Content: Angel/Cordelia, Spike/Cordelia, Riley/Buffy, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya
Summary: Cordelia goes back to Sunnydale for a visit following Angel's beige period.
Spoilers: This is set in Season 2 of Angel, during Angel's 'beige period' (therefore just after Reunion, etc, when the gang have been fired) and set *after* Fool For Love in Season 5 of BTVS, when Buffy tells Spike he's 'beneath her'.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Notes: (1) For the sake of my main character being childish following her being FIRED, Cordelia will refer to the A-word as Mmmph, if anyone cares to count, it has the same number of letters as Mmmph's name (unless dumbass writer has made a mistake) she is not being petty, she's being Cordelia.
(2) I talked to a couple of people and since I know where this fic is going to end up, it should be okay to post here. If the idea of Spike/Cordelia being together squicks you, please don't read. You were warned.
(3) I've twisted a bit of the AtS history for my own perverse pleasure. When Cordelia gets home it's set before Reprise and The Thin Dead Line, so Wesley hasn't been shot yet, but when Cordelia arrives home she finds something she really really doesn't want to.
Feedback: If you'd be so kind...
Dedication: To Wic, Mel and TW for wonderful chattiness in chat rooms and for generally keeping me sane.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 1~
"It'll do you good to get away Cordelia... Give you a chance to air your head Cordelia... I'm so stuffy pass me a scone Cordelia..." She mocked in not even a remotely Wesley-like voice.
Okay, so that last one wasn't fair. Wesley wasn't as stuffy as he'd once been, not even remotely like his spineless Watcher days, truth be told but... Why *exactly* was she here? What had possessed her to pick up her bag, wave goodbye to Phantom Dennis and tell him to wish her luck.
She didn't need luck. Cordelia needed a miracle.
Or an apocalypse, she could settle for one of those.
When she'd envisioned her ride back to Sunnydale? She'd envisioned a
car, better than the Cor-Mobile with the Queen C licence plates, better
than Mmmph's stupid crappy classic vintage car, less sensible than Wes'
SUV and certainly not as hillbilly as Gunn's pick up truck rigged with
the stakes for slayage.
She'd envisioned a limousine. Long, black - but not too tacky - with
a minibar and a TV. And maybe a couple of changes of clothes for when the
driving about got too much, or when she just felt like she needed a change.
She hadn't imagined rolling up to Sunnydale in the aforementioned 'sensible' SUV. She hadn't imagined, bringing all her clothes in a holdall and she CERTAINLY hadn't imagined staying in the Sunnydale Motel: Where Cockroaches Like To Party!
Hefting a sigh, Cordelia placed her bag on the bed, almost crushing a cockroach in her wake. Ugh, this was just like a nightmare!
***
"Spike, what are you doing here?" The slayer turned, time enough to bump into the one person she did NOT want to see tonight.
"Let's see, comes in a bottle. Ah, scotch," Said Spike, gesturing to the bar, then realising his tone was entirely too friendly, his eyes darkened slightly. "What's wrong Slayer, Captain Cardboard not around to play?"
"And again with the annoying. Is it like an art form with you?" The presence at her side was comforting... Riley comforting. Stepping back a little, she melted into the arm stretched across her shoulders and glared at the vampire before her. If the not wanting to cause a scene hadn't put her off, she would have slapped the smirk right from his face. "I hear Harmony's back in town. With minions. How's that working out for you? Group sex not your thing anymore or has moral ambiguity slipped?"
Riley chuckled behind her and Buffy smiled sweetly as Spike's nostrils flared slightly, "Ooh, score one for the slayer!"
"Say that a bit louder, luv. I don't think they heard you up on the balcony." Said Spike, raising an eyebrow.
Buffy frowned and shook her head, "Y'know, my life was a lot simpler without you IN it. Why don't you take the hint and leave?"
"Oh please," Said Spike, "You think I came back because of you? You're dumber than I thought, slayer."
"Then why did you come back?"
"I like the sun." Said Spike shortly, rolling his eyes. "I came back because sooner or later, this is going to be MY town..." Said the vampire, stepping closer to Buffy, "Sooner or later? We're going to dance... And that thing you're searching for? That burn, it's gonna keep pulsing until the fire's out. I already told you, luv... I'm going to have myself one good day. Just one..."
Watching rage build up behind her eyes, Spike smirked, expecting the punch that knocked him to the floor.
"I told you," Said Buffy, her voice quiet and full of anger, "If that ever happens. It won't be you. It'll NEVER be you. You're beneath me."
Sometimes, thought Spike as he got to his feet, I really wonder why I can't shut the hell up.
***
Okay, so this was new. And very weird. It seemed like Cordelia's expectations of Sunnydale had exceeded the ride down here. They now included the Bronze. It was different... Weird, different. Everything was changing on her and she didn't like it...
First, she'd been fired. Her! Cordelia Chase! Pink-slipped, booted... Made redundant. No matter which label you put on it, it had happened to her. She'd been passed over for some blonde, undead and skanky bitch with fangs! Her!
Now, she was standing in the Bronze where everything had changed, everyone had moved on from High School to become something and what was she? An actress, a not even remotely failed actress because she hadn't actually GOT somewhere to fail at a career she didn't have. A fired secretary, a redundant vision girl who's headaches were getting so blindingly painful, she felt like her brain was about to fall out of the back of her head. She was a mess. And she knew she was a mess. And she really didn't LIKE it.
Walking over to the bar, Cordelia sat down, placing her purse on the counter. "Beer."
"ID..."
"What?" Cordelia looked up, remembering that this wasn't Caritas, where Lorne would serve a minor. Hah, minor! If she was a big actress they'd serve her... But she wasn't a big actress. She wasn't even an actress or...
"Get the girl a beer."
The voice, distinctly British, came from the stool just two away from hers. She turned, raising an eyebrow and almost laughing as she saw Spike, bottle of scotch and glass in hand, scooting closer to her.
"Oh please, who are YOU kidding?" She asked, "You try to kill me and now you're buying me drinks? What gives? He's not hiding round the corner to kick your ass..." And didn't THAT thought hurt? Mmmph really wasn't here, he'd abandoned them and his mission to be with his stupid bimbo vampire bitch.
Morosely, Spike shrugged, "Not trying to impress. You just look like you could use a friend is all..."
"And what, that's you?"
"No luv," Said Spike running a hand through his hair. "That would be the beer."
"The drowning of sorrows." Said Cordelia, shaking her head as she took the beer. "That's a concept I'm familiar with."
"Why aren't you in LA, helping the bloody helpless or whatever it was you were doing last time I was there?" Spike glanced at her, she looked tired. Maybe Angel had been working her too hard.
"Why aren't I in LA?" She asked, "Was common sense not featured in the I'm A Brooding Asshole-descendant line? Hello, didn't you hear? I thought it would have been big on the vampire grapevine or whatever. He went bad again. He's now Mr. Leather Wearing I'm Going to Suck Your Face Off Through Your Neck again..."
Spike sputtered, spraying Scotch all over Cordelia.
"Ewww!"
"Wait a minute, you're saying Angelus is back? Oh... Bloody hell..." He frowned, "So what, you two have sex and then you come running down here to drown your sorrows, that the drill?"
"Ewwww! No!!!" Said Cordelia, thwacking Spike on the arm. "There was no sex involved. Just Darla. And for the record, if I say the name Mmmph, I mean Angel."
Puzzled, Spike looked at her, "Darla, the sire he staked, Darla?"
"That would be her in all her blonde and skanky glory."
"He always did have a thing for blondes," Said Spike, shaking his head and taking in Cordelia's shorter, black hair. "I should've known it wouldn't be you."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"
Spike chuckled. The night had JUST turned interesting...
***
"He's a jerk," Slurred the brunette, "A big, leather pants wearing brooding jerk. He fired me! FIRED me!"
"I know luv," Said Spike, with a roll of his eyes. "You told me." They'd been here for the last hour and a half, through which Spike had found out all about Cordelia's job troubles... Men troubles... Demon troubles. And then, they'd got back to Angel -- or Mmmph as she'd affectionately named him -- and how he'd fired them.
"I'm Cordelia Chase, I don't -- yergh --" She shuddered as the Scotch burned on its way down, "I don't GET fired! And he just booted me! He booted me!"
Two bottles of Scotch later and she was STILL making sense. He'd hoped it would knock her out and he could carry her home after the first half an hour, no such luck. And Spike feared that if he left Cordelia and something happened to her, when Angel started giving a crap again, he'd kick several shades of shit out of Spike for letting her get hurt... Although, even the thought of Buffy finding out he'd let something happen to her old high school friend was enough to put him off...
"Look, Cordelia... As much as I love hearing how my wanker of a sire screwed up, it's closing time. We're going to get kicked out. You can tell me all about this another time, when you're coherent and I'm not bored to tears."
A sharp gasp escaped her lips and Cordelia reached forward to whack him, falling promptly off the couch and onto the floor. "Stoopid vampire." She growled, "All mean and... Pretty and... Oooh, three Spikes!"
Sighing, Spike bent and grabbed the former May Queen by the arm, pulling her to her feet, "C'mon, pet. Let's get you home."
"Can't go home," Said Cordelia logically, "Phantom Dennis looooong way away..."
"Fine, your hotel room then." Said Spike through gritted teeth, "Let's just GO."
Wrenching her arm from his grasp, Cordelia glared at him, "Don't GROWL at me! Is it something they put in your blood or something you learned from the Master? How to be an asshole in fifty steps..." Cordelia wagged her finger at one of the Spike's before shaking her head. "Stupid man-pires, always thinking with their HIC..."
Amused, Spike raised an eyebrow, "Thinking with their what, luv?"
"Sshhhh..." Said Cordelia, raising a finger to his lips, "Quiet. All sleepy now..."
Spike chuckled and threaded his arm through hers, "C'mon, I've got a bottle of Scotch with your name on it in my pocket..."
Cordelia grinned, "Did I mention I loved you?"
The first part of the walk, out of the Bronze and down the street was mildly uneventful. A few passers by looked when Cordelia giggled rather loudly or yelled, "Mmmph's an asshole" at the top of her voice, but other than that, uneventful.
Of course, the course of Spike's unlife had NEVER run smoothly and the minute he thought things were going good, they stopped going that way.
"Spike."
Great. A bloody demon. A bloody demon with an obvious vendetta against him and a drunken Cordelia. His night was so very much sucking right now.
"Yeah?" He asked, turning... And promptly feeling the meaty fist slamming into his face. He heard Cordelia scream and the patter of high heels (that by the way, weren't even REAL Neiman Marcus, they just looked convincing, as he'd found out) as she ran away. Groaning slightly, Spike got to his feet, wiping the blood away from his nose. "Y'know, I like a fight as much as the next violence depraved vampire but now? Really ISN'T the time. Rain cheque?"
-- WHACK --
"Guess not then..." Spike moved with an agility only the supernatural possessed, foot outstretched and knocking the demon to the floor. Once down, his foot pounded into the back of its head, the neck slipping forward at an awkward angle and snapping, the crack making Spike grin.
He turned, licking the blood from his lips which was when he heard the very distinct, Cordelia-like scream...
"Oh... Fuck..." He cursed.
~Part: 2~
Okay, the general consensus was that when you heard a scream? It meant the girl was scared. It did NOT mean that she was jumping up and down in the middle of the night in Sunnydale with the bint that liked to call herself your girlfriend and screaming over a pair of shoes or whatever it was girls screamed about these days.
"Uh, Cordelia? Luv?"
"Look! Harmony!" Said Cordelia, happily, pointing at the vampiress Spike was, like it or not, sometimes sharing a bed with. Well, not this week. After Harmony had annoyed him too much, he'd booted her on out of there upon which she'd sat and sniffled outside his door for an hour, until he'd threatened her with a stake.
Knowing that Spike had once made good on his threat, Harmony had left.
"So, we meet again." Said Harmony, glaring at Spike, hands on her hips.
"We met last night," Said Spike dryly, "Remember? You came to my crypt with nothing under your coat?"
"Ewww... Not needing to hear this!" Said Cordelia, shuddering. "Wait a minute... Y-you're seeing HIM?" Casting a 'what the hell are you thinking look' in Harmony's direction, Cordelia frowned, "What did you do, lose a bet?"
"Hey!" Said Spike, walking over and grabbing Cordelia's hand. "Here's the deal luv. Every so often, she comes round for a shag, nothing serious. But? She's evil. Now, I can let you go with her and get my arse kicked off Angel when he gives a crap again, or I can take you with me safe in the knowledge that I want to bite you, but can't 'cause of this bloody chip in my head."
"You want to bite me?" A smile spread across Cordelia's face and she looked at Spike, her eyes misting over with tears. Okay, so crying over the fact that Spike wanted to bite her wasn't adding to her cool factor but she was drunk! And besides, it wasn't like Mmmph was lining up to bite her!
"Let's see," Said Spike, cocking an eyebrow, "Do you have a pulse?"
Cordelia poked out her tongue, causing Spike to smile as the word 'meanie' tripped from her lips.
"C'mon luv, I'll take you back to my crypt..."
"Oh, sure!" Said Harmony, "That was how he duped me! C'mon, I'll take you back to my crypt, take off my shirt and show you like all my manly boob muscles..."
"You jumped me!" Said Spike, indignantly, "And as I recall, there was only one muscle you were interested in seeing and it wasn't underneath my shirt."
"Ewewewewew..." Taking her hand from his, Cordelia shook her head, "Not listening, la la la, can't hear you!"
Spike laughed and glanced at Harmony, "Well, I'd say it's been nice, but I'd be lying. Cordelia?" Gently, he took her hand in his own and pulled it down from her head, "Time to go..."
"But... But Harmoneeeee!" Said Cordelia, latching onto her former best friends arm and gripping it tight, "I haven't seen her since High school! We need to catch up!"
Frowning, Spike stepped towards her and wrenched the drunken brunette from her clutches, "Listen, the only thing Harm's interested in catching up with are her blood McPlasma's - right now, she can't bite anything else for fear that the slayer's gonna stake her, so, she'll pick on the weak, defenceless and the - to be honest? Stupidly drunk..." Spike held up a hand, having anticipated the interruption from both girls, "Cordelia? I'm taking you home. Harm? Piss off."
"You're not funny, Spike!" Said Harmony, indignantly. "You can't just push me around, I'm not your girlfriend any more!"
"Wasn't what you were saying last night," He sneered before taking the now willing Cordelia's arm and leading her away.
"Were you really dating Harmony?" Asked Cordelia, breaking the not-totally-comfortable silence they'd lapsed into.
Spike sighed, there were some things a vampire just didn't want to think about. "Yeah." He said shortly, "I was."
"Okay." Said Cordelia with a bright smile. "Next question: Why?!"
"Obviously not brain power, was it, pet?" Asked Spike with a leer in her direction. He watched as her skin flushed warmly, her cheeks glowing a pretty pink colour - and shook his head, after falling for Harmony - one of the self-professed Cordette's - there was no way he was falling for another, especially not one that had ties to his Grandsire. The girl was pretty, fine. Good in bed - well she was a cheerleader, but Spike didn't have a death wish. Or a 'stake-through-the-heart-from-that-wanker' wish.
Running a hand through his hair, Spike glanced at Cordelia, "I have a bed you can sleep in if you want. Nothing special, but it's comfortable. Besides, don't think you want to be sleeping on top of my crypt..."
"As long as I'm not sharing the bed with cockroaches, I don't think I mind..." She slurred, hiccuping and grinning at the same time.
Spike chuckled and kept his hand resting at the small of her back, one touching her elbow so she didn't fall.
***
"Let me get this straight, YOU have Laura Ashley bedsheets." Asked Cordelia, glancing at Spike. "YOU?"
"Yeah, what of it?" He asked defensively. She'd stood at the bottom of his bed for half an hour, touching the sheet once and gasping like she'd been burnt. He didn't get what the big deal was, it was a bloody sheet, so what? Harmony had gotten them on her five-fingered discount when she'd murdered the sales girl at Bed Bath and Beyond.
Coughing not so subtly, Cordelia looked away, "SOMEbody wanted to get laid..."
"Hey! That's Harm's touch, NOT mine." Said Spike, frowning. "I don't see what the big deal is anyway, who's Laura Ashley?"
Mouth falling open, Cordelia gaped at him for the longest time, blinking once to illustrate her point. "Who's... Laura... Ashley? Spike, she's like... The Rolling Stones of Rock... But in bedsheets. She's like the Neiman Marcus of shoes - if he did linen! You can't NOT know who Laura Ashley is!"
"Pet, you're a worry." Spike deadpanned, shooting her a strange look. "You get excited over linens and things but talk about Angel and you look like you could rip someone a new arsehole."
"No talking about him." Said Cordelia, holding up a hand. "No mentioning his name or... Anything. I don't WANT to talk about him, I don't have to."
"Why? Because he fired you? Or because you're jealous of the bitch he's probably doing as we speak?"
Eyes narrowed, Cordelia's hands tightened into fists, dropping the aforementioned Laura Ashley sheet, "As far as I knew, Buffy was in Sunnydale," She bit back hotly. "I'm thinking that unless she got on her broomstick and flew to LA? Angel's not doing anybody..."
Unable to help himself, Spike burst into almost surprised laughter, "Touché pet..." He'd always known the girl had backbone, he just hadn't realised how much. When the laughter had stopped and Cordelia was still glaring at him, Spike stepped close to her and looked down. "What is it? What's really bothering you about this whole sodding Angel thing?"
"You mean aside from the fact that he dropped me like a hot potato?" Asked Cordelia, raising an eyebrow, now beginning to sober. "The fact that all this came about and he didn't even tell us it was happening. The fact that he left KNOWING that he was slipping into darkness. The fact that he didn't care about the visions or the people we've sworn to help with or without him and..."
"The fact that he left you behind with visions and feelings that you really can't control." Said Spike softly, "The fact that you're blindingly jealous, but don't want to be. The fact that you're standing here wishing you could bitch at him about all of this but you can't, because the next time you lay your eyes on Angel, you don't know if it's him you'll be looking up at..." He paused, waiting for his words to sink in. It didn't take a genius to work out what was wrong with her and Spike was no genius, he just walked around with his eyes open.
Cordelia flinched like she'd been slapped and for a moment, Spike almost regretted the words. "Since when did you become Joe-In-Touch-With-My-Feelings?" Asked the brunette quietly, turning her back on Spike. She sat down on the bed, playing with the hem of her skirt. "It's all of those things... He just abandoned us. I asked him repeatedly to talk to me but noooo, big strapping manpire guy gotta do it all himself. I just... He... Why couldn't he come to me?"
Spike snorted and looked at Cordelia, "Because Angel is a wanker. Because rather than go to somebody with a problem, he'll take it all on himself and think that he's still going to come out on top, no matter how big it is. As much as I hate him? What he did was to protect you from whatever's going to happen, Cordelia..."
"No!" Snapped Cordelia, "Not you too! I'm sick of hearing that excuse! He 'tried to prepare us for the coming darkness' or 'he thought he did what was best' well I'm sorry but I don't buy! What was best was fighting this head on, as a team, not splitting off into our different directions and suddenly deciding, 'hey, things are getting tough for the NON-vampires, I think I'll fire them!' that's not... It's... God, I hate him!"
"No pet," Said Spike gently, "You don't. You hate that he's left you like this, that he's fired you but you still care. If you didn't, you wouldn't be feeling the way you do."
Sighing, Cordelia's eyes raised to meet Spikes... "Don't you know you shouldn't try logic on a drunk girl?" She whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Hey... None of that." Said Spike, "You'll ruin my Laura bloody Ashley sheets."
Cordelia's laughter bubbled up and fell from her lips, her eyes lighting up a little. "You didn't know who Laura Ashley was a few minutes ago." She accused, smiling.
Spike grinned, "Hey, you were the one who mentioned the Stones, gotta give YOU credit for that. And see? I got you smiling again. Looks like it's celebration time." Spike moved and reached for the bottle of scotch on his dresser, "Told you I had a bottle of scotch with your name on it, didn't I?" He grinned and headed back towards her, two glasses in hand.
The spark that passed between them as Spike handed her the glass was undeniable, the sharp intake of breath from Cordelia making Spike look down. Her eyes had glazed over, her lips parted softly, a hint of smudged lipstick lying on her upper lip that Spike wanted to lick away. Gently, Spike smoothed a hand across her cheek, amazed when she didn't lash out with a well-placed foot or a slap. He watched as she let him lean closer, let him take her lips with his.
She responded quietly at first with a passion that, unbeknownst to Spike, had been building for months, pulling him back towards her as she lay on the bed. His hands seemed to be everywhere but the place she wanted them all at once, buried in her hair, resting on her hip but never touching the places she wanted to be. As his lips sank down to her neck, burying themselves in the warmth of her skin, Spike moaned softly, "Are you sure?" He whispered, nipping her skin softly with blunt teeth. "We can stop if you want, luv..."
"I'm not sure," Whispered Cordelia, "That's what's good about it."
Spike growled as she pressed herself against him, pushing his shirt down and off his arms, his fingers sliding up the smooth expanse of skin beneath her skirt. Hearing her moan, Spike teased, rubbing his fingers against her through the material of her panties, smirking slightly when the scent of her arousal hit him, heady, like a drug he didn't think he'd ever tire of.
Feeling the wetness seep between her thighs, Spike pushed the material aside, sliding a finger inside her waiting warmth, reaching up to kiss her lips as her hips surged upwards. He added a second and a third finger, stretching her, making her mewl softly against his lips, leaving him to wonder if this had ever felt any better, to have a woman like her writhing underneath you. He could feel her heartbeat quicken, pound against his chest and Spike moved away from her, grinning at her groan of impatience. "Spiiiikkkeeeee..." She half-whined, "The nice touching stopped..."
Then, his hands really WERE everywhere, ripping open her shirt, Cordelia heard the buttons hit the floor and had half the mind to protest, until his lips were attacking an already hardened nipple through her bra. She gasped softly, feeling him pull the material down and worry the nub with his teeth, little half-growls slipping from his lips.
Feeling his teeth move to where the front clasp was, Cordelia stopped him with a hand, "Nuh-uh, this is the ONLY expensive bra I own, bought with my first pittance of a pay-cheque, use the conventional way."
Suitably chastised, Spike grinned up at her, "Nice bra luv... Someone obviously wanted to get laid..." Turning her previous insult, round on her, he smirked, unfastening the clasp with cold, yet soft hands. "Lose a bet, didja luv?"
The small item of clothing fell away, leaving Cordelia to gasp as Spike placed a warm, wet kiss between the valley of her breasts, feeling the flutter of her heartbeat thrumming against his lips. She was so warm and so damned hot all at the same time that Spike never wanted to leave, never wanted to not feel her skin against his. If she was his drug, then fine, let him die here, surrounded by her warmth... Something inside reminded him that out there, somewhere, was a sire of his... Who would gladly kill him for touching his Seer. Spike didn't care, or if he did, at that moment, he was REALLY good at repressing, his lips moving softly over her navel.
Spike's tongue crept out, hands sliding behind to undo the zipper on her skirt. Met with no resistance, the vampire rolled it down her hips and off her legs, "Cordelia?" He mumbled against her stomach, fingers hooked under the waistband of her panties, "These expensive?"
Laughing, Cordelia looked at Spike and shook her head, "Nope, Christmas present from my Mom..."
"Sentimental value?"
"No!" She laughed, hearing the impatience in his voice.
The rip of her panties resounded round the crypt and Cordelia laughed, raising an eyebrow, "Well, you could have used your teeth, made it a bit MORE tackier..." She grinned.
Spike smiled against her skin, his tongue teasing gently at the juncture of her thighs. "Thought I'd use my teeth somewhere else, pet..." He teased playfully, hearing the protest before she even said it.
"Nuh-uh, Spike, no te- Ungh..." Her legs parted, eyes rolling backwards as Spike's head dipped between her thighs, his tongue slipping inside of her almost hungrily.
Cordelia groaned, hips surging up against him, hands coming down to twine in the surprisingly soft blond locks. "Spike..." She groaned softly, eyes closed now, hips moving gently against his mouth.
Placing a hand gently on her stomach, Spike flattened her hips to the bed his tongue tracing upwards to circle her clit, spurred on by the sounds falling from her lips. Hitting a particularly sensitive spot, Spike grinned and wrapped his lips round the distended nub, sucking hard against her, causing her to cry out.
It took a moment for her movements to still, her hips to stop their motion, Spike lapping gently at her skin before moving up, kissing each one of her eyelids before she opened them, looking up at him lazily, "I want..."
"I know, pet, ssshhh..." He whispered, kissing her neck as her fingers went to work at his jeans, pushing them down and off his hips. He was naked beside her, her skin hot and soft against his and Spike groaned as she pulled him atop her.
Carefully, Spike slid himself into her warmth, gasping as he felt her surround him - her hands running up and down his arms, his back, the comfort of touch almost too good for the brunette to be missing right now.
Meeting every thrust with one of her own, Spike marvelled at the brunette beneath him, hands stroking her hair, her cheeks as he moved inside of her. All too suddenly, it was ending though and Spike could feel the build up, the tightening around him. His hand slid between their bodies, pressing between her legs and against her clit, sending a wash of pleasure throughout her body and into his. She tightened around him and Spike groaned again, his face burying in her hair.
When she gasped, it was mirrored with one of his own...
When she cried out, Spike did the same...
And when sated, Cordelia lay against his body, Spike finally closed his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "That was..."
"Perfect..." She whispered snuggling down into his arms. "Absolutely..."
"Perfect." He finished with a smile as her breathing slowed, became more steady. Reaching down, Spike pulled the blanket around them and kissed her forehead again, reaching out to switch off the lamp in his crypt.
For a while, he just lay there, listening to her breathing, feeling her chest, soft and warm against his as her heart beat gently inside. Then, Spike started to wonder what the hell he was doing, lying here like this, with Cordelia of all people. Angel was going to kick his arse into a new shape.
And then, Spike realised as he was dozing off, he didn't really care...
~Part: 3~
(Warning: Angel is much darker than the series depicted here, there is a reason, he's not just being a bastard but you have been warned. There are hints of non-consensual sex in this part, please don't read if this offends.)
The afternoon had started out pretty simple, if he thought about it. The sun was well up and from what Spike could tell they'd slept the morning away, well into late afternoon, which suited him fine -- other than the fact he'd missed Passions -- but still... A little confusion at first on her part, when she woke and there was an arm wrapped around her. Then, there'd been the kissing. God, the kissing, the feel of her warm lips pressed on top of his. Then, it had happened. He'd felt her tighten up in his arms, felt the gasp slide from her mouth to his and Cordelia had screamed - literally screamed against his mouth - her body bowing and almost throwing his away from her.
"Cordelia?"
Spike watched puzzled, her hand having shot up to her head the minute he was away - girl looked like she was having a fit. He tried to grab her but as whatever was happening intensified, Spike was left to watch, helpless.
When she returned to him, breathless and shaken up, Spike looked at her, eyes dark and worried. "What the hell just happened?"
"I-I had a vision." She whispered, shaken, "I get visions from the Powers That Be."
"Visions?" He'd heard of Seer's before somewhere, couldn't place where though, maybe Giles or one of the sodding Scoobies. "You're a Seer?"
Cordelia barely had the presence to glare at him, but managed it, "I'm also a person every day of the month too." She growled, getting out of the bed.
"What did you see?"
Now, he wished he'd never asked. The space in his bed was still warm. Cordelia was gone... And all Spike could see was that damned look in her eyes.
"Angel," She whispered, "He... Darla. He was having sex with *Darla*..." The hurt look in her eyes made Spike wonder whether he'd been right last night, whether the brunette did feel more for that wanker than she was letting on.
"And?"
"And?" Cordelia looked at him, "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"So you had a vision about Angel, big deal. Come back to bed, luv..."
"Didn't you hear me or something or did that chip affect your ears as well as your brains ability to function?" She asked, snarkily. "Angel's about to make one of the biggest mistakes of his un-life with that skanky undead bitch and you want me to come back to bed?"
A low growl escaped Spike's lips and he shook his head, "Why the hell do you care? Does he? Did he care that you came down here and spent the night shagging his way-ward grand-childe? If it'd been Buffy though, that... Oh, that would have been different." He intoned, a dark look in his eyes. "He couldn't give a shit about anybody but himself, pet."
Cordelia winced and got up from the bed, sheet clasped around her. He was right. He was right and she knew it, knew it like she hadn't known anything else. If this had been his beloved Buffy, Angel would have run after her, run to the ends of the earth. Cordelia was bitter. She was bitter and hurt and she hated Spike for automatically knowing why what was bothering her was bothering her so much. She pulled the sheet tight around her body and shook her head, slowly.
Spike should have known that at that moment, he'd pushed her away completely, why else would she be hiding what modesty she had left when he'd spent most of the night kissing the skin she was now shielding from him? "You really think it's that simple?" Asked Cordelia quietly, "That because he stopped caring about me, I have to stop caring about him? You're more of a dumbass than I thought. What is it like a long line of genes in the family pool or something?"
Spike laughed, something cold and hard sliding behind his eyes as Cordelia stared at him, "You don't even know what bothers you more, do you luv? The fact that if it had been Buffy he would have been down here shit-hot to ram a stake through my heart, or the fact that you know I'm right, that you have feelings for Angel you just won't admit?"
"And what if you are right?" She growled, "What if, by some small miracle, if this had been Buffy standing here instead of me, he would have cared more? I don't love Angel, not like that."
Spike got up off the bed and stood in front of her, pushing his fingers under her chin to make her look at him. "Then why do you care?"
"Because unlike certain undead and ungrateful bastards I do care." Said Cordelia, coldly.
Angrily, Spike moved away from Cordelia, pacing the floor of his crypt, "Oh, fine, rub it back in my face luv, it's what you're good at. You, the bloody Slayer. Vampires don't feel, they can't love. I tell you, they love a damn sight better than humans do without all these sodding moral attributes attached to it. If you knew what was best, you'd leave the bastard to rot in hell."
Cordelia looked up at him, "And if you knew me at all? You'd know that I'd never do that." Her gaze shifted from his and Cordelia walked round the crypt, gathering her clothes and pulling them on, not caring that part of her shirt was unbuttoned or that her skirt looked like it had never met an iron for about a month. Her head hurt and this argument with Spike hadn't exactly made it any better. Running her fingers through her hair, Cordelia walked to the door, only to find Spike, naked and pressed against it, his eyes dark. "Move out of my way, Spike." Said Cordelia, firmly.
"Say I'm wrong." Said Spike glaring down at her, "Say I'm wrong and you go up there - as a friend - to stop what's happening. You go up there to stop Angel boning his Sire and making this stupid fucking mistake. Say I'm wrong and when you get there, you're too late. What do you think's going to happen to you? You're the first person Angelus is going to go after Cordelia, you and your shoddy little investigations team. Bet that bloody demon guy you used to work with is glad he's dead."
Spike watched as everything seemed to fold in on her. Her eyes filled with tears and a shocked look passed across her face. He'd managed it. Managed to break the ice queen barrier and managed to almost snap her in two with the weight of words he should have known would hurt. It was no longer the vision pain he could see behind her eyes, it felt like he'd betrayed her and now, Spike felt like shit.
"Get out of my way." She said quietly, determined not to let the tears roll down her cheeks.
"Luv," Spike reached out to stop her and then reeled back as a fist was slammed into his face. He honestly hadn't seen it coming, too enamoured by the look on her face, the comfort he'd wanted to give had come about of its own volition. Clutching a hand to his now bloody nose, Spike watched helpless as she ran out of his crypt, shoes and jacket in her hands.
"Fuck." He cursed, glancing out the door at the sun-drenched cemetery. Unless he wanted to turn into a crispy critter, there was no way he was going after her like this.
***
She, was Cordelia fucking Chase. She, was the Ice Queen - the self-professed Queen of Mean. She did NOT cry over vampires. She hadn't cried over Angel and she was not going to cry over that bleached blonde bastard. Rubbing a hand exhaustedly across her face, Cordelia stared at the sky, the sun falling on the horizon. She'd been driving for an hour, had stayed long enough to pay the guy at the motel, grab her things and get the hell out of there. Even after the mention of Doyle, she hadn't cried, though she'd wanted to. Wanted to drink herself into another oblivion but something stopped her - her vision - her vision right now was her one saving grace because even where Angel didn't care, she had to get him away from her, get him away from making that mistake.
"Darla. It's always about Darla. One thing you can say about Angel at least he's consistent. It's always some little blonde driving him over the edge."
Frowning, Cordelia checked her rear-view mirror, then the side, then the front. See, now if she just focused on the little things - like getting back to LA in one piece and without having broken every speed limit there was - she'd be fine. She could help Angel and then... Well, after that, who knew?
***
"So, when's Cordy coming home?" Things had been slow around the 'office' for this past day and a half. It'd been kinda quiet and Gunn, though reluctant to admit it, had actually missed her. Seemed like lately the group dynamic had started to show cracks, especially when Angel had been round. Now though, they seemed stronger than ever - even with Cordelia gone to Sunnydale - stronger without Angel.
Sounded weird.
"I believe at the weekend." Said Wesley, "She was going to meet with an old friend, down in Sunnydale. Harmony." He remembered Harmony briefly from his Watcher days. So very different to Cordelia. Whereas the brunette was strong with a passionate, altogether wilful streak, Harmony had been one of those girls willing to just follow the crowd, let herself be guided and dictated to by the fashions and attributes that others - leaders, admittedly - like Cordelia had set.
"You think she'll be okay, man?" Asked Gunn, "She keeps brave-facing stuff, the visions, Angel... I worry about her sometimes, y'know?"
Nodding, Wesley met his friends eyes. "I believe that this whole business with Angel and Darla took it out of Cordelia more than she dared to let on, but we did the right thing in sending her away for a couple of days. It'll do her the world of good to-" The sound of the phone ringing caused Wesley to pause and he glanced at Gunn briefly, before leaning over to pick up the receiver. "Angel Investigations, we help the helpless."
"Is Cordelia there?" Asked the voice, hurriedly.
"Who's speaking?"
"Did I ask for the third degree? Listen mate, I've had one hell of a day, I'm not in the mood to play games I just want to speak to Cordelia, alright?"
"She's not HERE." Said Wesley, through gritted teeth, "She went to stay with a friend in Sunnydale."
"Bollocks." From the other end of the phone, Spike growled, "Look, I don't know where Angel is and nor do I care, what I do care about - grudgingly - is the fact that Cordelia had a vision and right now? She's on her way to stop Angel making what she said was the biggest mistake of his unlife."
Wesley blanched, gripping the receiver tighter in his hand, "When did she leave?"
"About six hours ago, bit longer."
"And you're just calling NOW?!" Wesley asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I had the sun to battle, then I had to actually find the number and-- Why are you still talking to me? Go! Find the sodding girl before he does something we'll all regret." Replacing the receiver, Spike took a deep breath. He'd done the right thing, he'd told her friends, his conscience was clear.
So why did he still feel like shit?
***
The hotel felt strangely empty to Cordelia as she stepped down into the main area of the lobby. Her idea was, that she could talk to Angel, make him see some kind of sense - stop him from making that mistake. She owed to him, she owed him that much, to save him from what he was about to do. How could she not? He was the one who, when she'd came to LA, had given her a job, given her hope. He was the one who had stuck by her longer than anyone, hadn't hurt her until now. He'd promised to help the people in her visions and some part of Cordelia needed him to get back to that. It was a selfish reason she'd laid claim to, right then, but it was a reason, nonetheless.
She made her way over to the office, looking at the appointment book that had been empty for two months now. Looked at the answering machine that blinked no messages, the desks that were gathering more dust than they'd accumulated in the fifty years the hotel had been vacant.
Dark, empty, alone - it felt like death. There was light here, but not the real kind, not the kind that generated hope. This was just... A matter of science. A matter of how lightbulbs were lit, a matter of electricity. No illumination, no light, no hope. No Angel...
Cordelia's heart contracted painfully in her chest. What if something had happened to him? What if Darla or Dru had taken the fight too far and left him for dead? Stupid, he is dead. Cordelia winced and turned, making the walk that over the last few months, she'd made every day until her expression 'let sleeping vampires lie' had come into play. Her purse shouldered, her eyes determined yet weary, Cordelia climbed the stairs hearing the crash. Her first thought was that Angel was being attacked, that something was happening and she was poised, ready to jump in and help him but... Her vision, her vision stopped her.
She knows.
Knows from the clothes strewn across the floor.
She knows.
She knows and her first thought is that after seeing even a glimpse of the THX version in her head, she can't see this. She can't. And yet she can't seem to stop creeping forward, listening to the sounds of slapping and punching and...
Spike, kissing his way down her navel, pausing to circle with his tongue...
Cordelia's horrified that she's comparing THAT what they shared, to this. But she's not, because she's watching and she's seeing, but she's not, she's desperately trying to put the one good experience she's had with sex, in place of that, what she's seeing now.
"Or maybe what you really want is this," Says Angel, pushing Darla back against the wall and gently pushing the hair back from her face. Cordelia screams at him from inside, begs him not to touch her like that, not tender, not... God, not like that. "That may be - what you really want, isn't it?" And he's kissing her again, soft at first then a little harder.
"Don't play games with me." In that moment, when Darla pushes him away, she looks human and she's not - she's so very not. That's what makes her dangerous, the fact that she can look human and vulnerable and in the same instant, be ripping you to shreds, be it with her fangs or her bare hands.
"I'm not playing," Says Angel, "I just wanna feel something besides the cold."
Unbeknownst to Cordelia, tears are rolling down her cheeks, hot tears, angry and hurting tears. Hurting because she can't get away from this, hurting because of what Spike said to her... Hurting because even though she drove here as fast as she could, she couldn't stop him.
She's hurting because she's failed and Cordelia Chase has never failed.
"Don't you feel the cold?"
Oh God, Cordelia thinks that maybe she's going to be sick as Angel touches her, running his fingers down her cheeks and she can hear Darla laughing as Angel punches her, sending her careering through the doors where the glass shatters and the wood splinters into a thousand tiny pieces.
"What're you doing?" She demands.
And Angel's against her, kissing her, stroking the side of her face as they tumble to the bed, "It doesn't matter. None of it matters."
If it doesn't matter now, then it never will. Those people that Angel vowed to help, the helpless that he once cared so much about? With those words, they've become nothing more than a meal to him, a walking happy meal with legs. Cordelia can feel the bile rising up in her throat, the hot tears burning her eyes and she retches, coughing without meaning to and she's running, even as Angel tears himself away from Darla, she's running to get away, to be sick...
Until the hand closes around the back of her neck and she's thrust against the wall, Darla's laughter ringing in her ears.
"Enjoying the show Cordy?" He asks, coldly. "Weird, never had you pegged as a Watcher, thought that was Wes' job..."
...You're standing here, wishing you could bitch at him about all of this but you can't, because the next time you lay your eyes on Angel, you don't know if it's him you'll be looking up at...
"Angel? I-I came to help..."
"Help?!" Angrily, Angel grips her arms, so tight she's sure he's cutting off the circulation, "I'm not one of the fucking helpless, Cordelia. I'm not one of your Visions..." He sneers, then, seeing the look pass through her eyes, he laughs. "They sent you a vision. Is that why you're here? They showed me fucking Darla and what, you liked it so much you wanted to catch the live show?"
"Stop it." She whispers, gripping hold of her purse. Inside, it has a stake. Inside. Where she can't reach. "Angel, please, don't..."
"Please?" He sneers, cruelly. "Please?! Is that even a word in the Cordelia-Chase-Dictionary? Y'wanna know what I'm thinking? You didn't want to catch the live version, you wanted to be part of it..." His lips smash down on hers. It's not gentle or loving, it's nothing like she just witnessed back there - she's bleeding, her lips are bleeding and Angel's loving it, loving the fear he can smell. When he pulls back, she's gasping for breath, hot tears rolling down her cheeks again.
"I can taste something," He smirks, "Guess you like your men cold, huh Cordelia? Doyle never stood a chance, did he?" His fingers are sliding up her skirt and Cordelia shakes her head, trying to push him away, "Angel, stop it... Get OFF me..."
As he presses against her through her replaced panties, Cordelia pushes against him. She's going to die here and she knows it. Spike was right, she should never have come here.
And as the cavalry rushes in in the form of Gunn and Wesley, Darla's laughing. Wolfram and Hart wanted Angel dark? They got him dark... She's laughing and through the haze of the spell, Angel can hear crying and he's not sure where it came from or what happened exactly. He remembers coming in and seeing Darla, telling her to get out... And after that, nothing, except Wesley standing over him holding a crossbow, aimed directly at his heart. Nothing except Gunn with Cordelia in his arms...
And now he can hear nothing except the surprised noise that Darla makes when Wesley fires a single shot - apparently his aim got better - because Darla's mouth falls into an 'o' shape and she's left like that in the brief moment it takes for her to turn to dust.
He tries to stand up, to stumble to his feet and murmurs something, "What's happening, how did I--" And apparently Wesley got better at reloading the crossbow too because now it's back, aimed at his heart and reloaded again. "Wesley?"
"One step closer and I *will* use this, Angel." The ex-watcher informs his friend, coolly.
Angel's watching, helpless as Gunn helps Cordelia to her feet leading her down the stairs and away. He's watching as Wesley backs away, crossbow directed at his heart and for the life of him, he can't understand what happened, why Cordelia looks the way she does... A vision? Or something more.
It hits him. A moment of clarity. An epiphany, whatever you want to call it. Or simply the after-effects of a spell used by Wolfram and Hart. He knows what he did and he knows what he's done and he realises he'd know that smell anywhere. Spike. All over his Cordelia. HIS Cordelia.
Except she's not his any more and that's further punctuated by the large heavy doors swinging shut, Cordelia's scent all over his fingers, the smell of her fear breaking his heart...
~Part: 4~
"You should have called us, Cordelia. Going over there alone was stupid and--"
"I know!" Like she needed Wesley to preach to her over this. She was the one who'd almost been raped by the demon version of her best friend. Who knew, maybe even after it happened he and Darla could have had some fun too? She knew the consequences, she knew the possible outcomes - she knew what had happened was already of the bad, she just didn't need Wesley in all his worry preaching to her about the ethics of vampire safety.
"I thought that I was his only shot..." She tried to explain, eyes cast downwards. The vision had been awful. Seeing them like that had been a show that Cordelia hadn't really wanted to catch and Angel's suggestion of her catching the live version? Really not a loving. Part of her reaction, of course, she blamed on Spike. If he hadn't said the things he had about Doyle then maybe she wouldn't have gone fleeing off into the sun, so sure that she could make it right.
That was what her visions were for, to help the helpless - and right then, Cordelia had thought that Angel was one of them. He hadn't wanted help because he hadn't wanted them close when he snapped. It wasn't his fault... Facing the things he did day after day, losing the things he loved, it had to take its toll - and she'd been so sure that going there and showing him that the Powers wanted him to be saved would bring him back.
Tagged onto that too, was a certain amount of guilt - of enormous sizes. If Cordelia hadn't been in Sunnydale, if she hadn't taken her 'vacation' when she had, then she'd have been able to get to Angel quicker instead of the hours that felt like days on the freeway. If she'd been there earlier, been more attentive, more insistent that he talk, then none of this would have happened.
Cordelia kept asking herself 'what if' - and she was almost convinced that it was doing her no good at all.
What if Gunn and Wesley had never shown up? She'd be dead by now, or worse...
"We're not trying to make you feel bad Cordelia, it's just..."
"It's just what, I was stupid? Gee, like I didn't know that! You can't trust anything without a pulse - I should have realised that by now!"
Wesley glanced at her, seeing something in her eyes that he didn't like. Was she talking about Angel? Or someone else?
"Did something happen in Sunnydale, Cordelia?" Asked Wesley, sharing a glance with Gunn who didn't look too happy either. "The man who called, he was... A vampire too?"
It wasn't exactly hard for Wesley to put two and two together, not when he'd said that he couldn't go out because of the sun. He could have had an allergy, of course, Wesley knew of a number of cases where some adults and children had to avoid direct sunlight - but this, this was different. For one, Cordelia had been staying on a Hellmouth. For two, though it wasn't like Wesley actually needed a reason - the man on the phone had seemed to know both Cordelia and Angel quite well, Angel especially.
He remembered reading some of Giles' diaries about Angel and the clan he'd travelled with. In particular, a British vampire named Spike or William the Bloody, the vampire who'd tortured Angel to get back the ring of Amarra. He'd put two and two together and apparently, come up with four.
"Look, I know I was stupid..." Said Cordelia, "On both counts. That doesn't mean that you get to sit here and act all high and mighty. I was lonely and drunk and it was bad judgement. It's not the end of the world..."
Wesley, mildly hurt by her comment, shook his head. "We've been through a lot together, Cordelia. I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all..."
Too late, thought Cordelia, but didn't voice it. Instead, she smiled, trying to pave over the uncomfortableness, "I'm gonna go get some sleep, okay? Phantom Dennis will get you both blankets and stuff. You can argue about the couch between yourselves."
Sometimes, thought Wesley, She knows us better than we know ourselves. There was no way they were about to let her stay alone that night and she knew there was no point in arguing. He smiled, tentatively, watching as she slipped into the other room.
"We shoulda staked him." Said Gunn as soon as Cordelia was out of earshot, "Guys been getting in touch with his inner evil way too much right now."
"It was a spell," Wesley replied, pulling his glasses off, far more willing to give Angel the benefit of the doubt than Gunn.
"And what, because it wore off he just goes back to being normal Angel? I don't think so. He was slipping before this Wes and we all saw it. He fired us, remember? Are we just supposed to go back there with open arms, a hug and forget all about it?"
"Angel knows what it is he's done, Gunn. Perhaps he doesn't understand what it takes to make it right again - but he'll try. If he values our friendship or any of us, he'll try."
"And if he doesn't?"
Wesley sighed, knowing that this wasn't an answer he could look up. "I don't know, Gunn."
***
"What does a man have to do to get a bloody invitation 'round here?!"
The voice - distinctly British - yanked Cordelia from sleep, pulling her from the clutches of where she'd been marrying Ewan McGregor on some island somewhere.
"You're not a man, which poses my next point. Why the hell would I invite you in, knowing you need an invite?"
Ah, Wesley, ever the sensible. She didn't blame him for being cautious, especially after what had happened last night and especially considering that Spike did actually need an invite. Even if Wesley hadn't added it up (which she'd suspected he had) Wesley would have been cautious anyway.
They all knew the rules, you just didn't invite people into your home until you knew about them. And if they were a vampire, you didn't extend that luxury unless they had a soul - which didn't count most of the time if they were in touch with their inner-evil.
"Because... Because me and the chit go way back. That's why I called you, that's why I'm HERE." Growled Spike as Cordelia came out of the bedroom, robe wrapped around her - looking pretty worse for wear. "Cordelia! You're looking... Terrible. Gonna invite me in?" He asked, shielding himself from the sunlight with a blanket.
Frowning momentarily, Cordelia looked at Gunn and Wesley, "He's harmless. He can't hurt humans."
"Hey! I'm... Harmful." Said Spike, glaring at the brunette, bristling slightly at her little come-back from the looking terrible comment. Maybe she'd had lessons from the slayer on how to piss him off.
"Not the way to get into the apartment, man..." Gunn's crossbow, level with Spike's chest, twitched a little. "Way I see it? No vamp can be trusted, not even Angel..."
Wincing at the mention of his name, Cordelia glanced up. Annoyance was etched on Gunn's face - a strange kind of acceptance on Spike's. "Fine." He nodded, "Keep your bolts and stakes if it makes you feel better, just came to talk to the girl..."
"I invite you in, Spike." Said Cordelia, shrugging, trying to act nonchalant about it. She'd slept with Spike - okay, so she was drunk and upset and way more drunk than she'd meant to get but that didn't excuse it, at least not to her, anyway.
Smirking, Spike stepped around Gunn and patted him on the shoulder, "Looks like you'll have to find something else to kill, hmm?"
"Touch her and that can all change." Gunn retorted, hotly.
Cordelia sighed and grabbed Spike's arm before the first punch was thrown his way, dragging him out of the living room and into her bedroom, shooting Gunn and Wesley an arched eyebrow and an 'I can deal' look. "Okay, talk." Cordelia's body language spoke volumes - she was pissed, more than that - she was hurt.
"Take it you didn't bring me in here for a repeat performance then?" Asked Spike, trying to cover his nervousness (and this crazy feeling of guilt) with a joke.
Disheartened to notice that there wasn't even a flicker of humour - or something else - in her eyes, Spike let out a low sigh, "You look like hell."
"Gee, thanks." She frowned, "I mean, my appearance really WAS the first thing on my mind when I woke up to the English Undead hammering on my door and... What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"
Immediately rising to the defence, Spike shrugged, "In the neighbourhood."
"You live four hours away, Spike, that's not 'in the neighbourhood'."
"Okay," He frowned, lifting his hands in a mock 'I surrender' gesture, "I was worried. And before you call into question my badness or... My fluffy puppiness, I don't get why either. I just was... Alright? Seems like you have a distinct lack of people that're worrying about you lately."
Shocked and unsure how to react, Cordelia's mouth opened and closed. When finally she'd regained some control over her motor functions, the brunette shook her head slowly, "That's just it though... I have too many people worrying about me. If it's not the visions, it's this thing with Angel. If it's not that it's..." She paused a moment, wondering how to word what she was about to say. Okay, so Spike wasn't her ideal 'Share My Pain' partner, but he was there... And he didn't get that look like Angel did, when she told him she was in pain - or that look from Gunn and Wes when she lied and told them she was fine.
Spike was honest with her and right now, Cordelia needed that.
"Am I that different from how I was in Sunnydale? Or even... Even back a year ago? I mean look at me. I was the biggest bitch in Sunnydale High School and that's some record to beat. I didn't care about missions or vampires or anything! All I cared about was whether the dress I was wearing would give me hives, or how not cool I looked on the arm of Xander Harris... Now, I have a mission, I have demon-goo covered clothes and a best friend who likes getting in touch with his inner psycho from time to time. This isn't how it was supposed to work out."
Spike frowned and leaned forward, looking Cordelia in the eye, "So how was it supposed to work out, luv? All sunshine and roses? You make do with what you're given and if this is it for you, you'll make do..." Spike paused, "Care to tell me about that?" He lifted a hand, touching her bruised neck lightly and watched as she flinched away.
"Guess that answers it all then?" He added, answering his own question. He knew what had happened - he could smell him all over Cordelia and was in no delusions of his own that Angel couldn't smell the same regarding him.
"He hurt you." It wasn't a question, though even if it was, Cordelia wasn't exactly forthcoming with an answer.
Her gaze slid away from his and Cordelia backed away, shaking her head. "I'm--"
"Fine." Said Spike, finishing her sentence for her with a frown, "Well seeing you're an ex-Sunnydale Resident. You got the 'I'm Fine' lingo down to perfection."
"What do you want me to say?" Snapped Cordelia, folding her arms across her chest, wondering how exactly Spike knew her without really knowing her at all. Unless what he said was true and that people on the Hellmouth really did over-abuse the whole 'I'm fine' sentence. "I know, I'll start with a round of 'a killer touched me up while wearing my best friends face' followed by a stunning rendition of 'he could have killed me' ending up with an encore-worthy chorus of 'he's gone into brood mode and I don't know how the HELL I'm going to get him out of it' - how's that?"
"Since when do you need to get him out of it?" Asked Spike, "When did it become your responsibility?"
"It always has been..." Defeated, Cordelia sat down on the end of her bed and sighed. "The first time I came to LA, the only person to actually care what was happening to me was Angel. Doyle sort of tagged along with that and we became friends. We became a family. It makes common sense that it's roles reversed now. I should care what happens to him."
"The way he cared about you? That's rich," Spike ground out, "He tried to rape you, Cordelia. Bullet-head outside filled me in on his current vamp-hating status."
"That wasn't him..." She said quietly, "I'm so sick and tired of saying that. It. Wasn't. Him."
Just as Cordelia was sick of saying that, Spike was sick of hearing it. What, so the poof could chance, but he couldn't - was that it? You didn't have to have a soul to love somebody - but to change, it was a requirement?
"You need to stop making bloody excuses for him," Spike frowned, "What's it going to take for you to actually start believing that you don't have to forgive everything he does?"
"What is this, asshole day?" Snapped Cordelia, "Are you listening to yourself? What choice do I have? Huh...? If I don't fix this, if I'm not the one who goes over there and makes it right, who's going to? What, you think Angel's going to come here when he could be spending quality time sitting there and alphabetising his new and improved brooding skills? Not a chance, Spike. Brooding is always going to be the new black with Angel and just when I thought I was getting him to be more colourful? Black makes the welcome return..."
She hated being this vulnerable - it was an age old thing with Cordelia, if the walls were up then no-one could get in and find a way to hurt her. The first time she'd let someone slip past, it had been Xander - stupid, boneheaded Xander Harris who'd had the thrilling, illicit smoochies and found that way to hurt Cordelia. It hadn't mattered that at times she'd wanted to go back to Xander - her stupid pride wouldn't let her - it hadn't mattered that she'd loved Xander and never even got to say it to him - what had mattered was that Cordelia had been hurt and this time, when she'd built the walls up again, she just added a few more bricks.
It was the way of the world - her world, at least.
"It's not as easy as it seems, y'know. I offered to help him. I told him that if he needed to talk, I was his girl - but no, just like brooding is always the new black with Angel, blonde is always going to be the hair colour he prefers. If it's not Buffy, it's Darla and we mere brown-haired people just don't even stand a chance. What's the point in being here for him if at the end of the day it's never going to be good enough for him?"
"You tell me, luv..." Said Spike softly, "You're the one who's so intent on going over there and making this all right again..."
Without intending to, Cordelia had just completely turned her own argument back over on herself. Why should she go over there, knowing that it was never going to be enough for Angel just to have them? Why should she go over there knowing that Angel could hurt her? And... That posed the next question - how could she not go over there?
"Because he's family." She sighed, "And family stick together, no matter what."
In true Spike fashion, he stood there and sulked. It wasn't like he wasn't accustomed to it - the sulking, or this feeling. This feeling that he was losing something he wasn't that sure he'd ever had.
And of course, jealousy. It was common knowledge that a man could make mistakes - but when Angel made them, everyone seemed to forgive it in an instant.
"So what're you going to do then?" He asked, frowning, "Talk him out of it? Doesn't look like that worked last time..."
"It didn't work last time, but that's my point. I have another shot. Call it a last ditch attempt to get my family back together again. Call it whatever you like. The Powers That Be sent me a vision and in a roundabout way, we solved that case. Angel didn't sleep with Darla, he didn't lose his soul. Somewhere inside him, he's still there - no matter how many blondes are clogging up his headspace, Angel's still there. We saved him... Now, I just gotta figure out a way to save him all over again, without - y'know - the almost getting killed parts."
There was a touch of defiance in her eyes, a spark that Spike could easily recognise and identify with. He'd seen it in Buffy, in Dawn and now, in Cordelia. She wasn't going to lose this, she was going to fight - because that was what she did.
"I don't expect you to understand this," She said, though not unkindly, "But... The reasoning behind my visions, is that they help the helpless. Right now, Angel's one of them. They sent me a vision because Angel needed help, he needed saving from the mistake that was Darla." Cordelia, though not impressed with some of the ways Angel had handled stuff lately, was beginning to understand. It was easy to get lost in darkness, because you didn't have to care. In some ways, being with Spike had proved that for Cordelia - and in others, it had confused her even more.
She was going to fix this.
She was going to fix this because she was Cordelia Chase and she didn't fail at anything she set her mind to and damnit, she wanted her friend back.
She wanted her family back together.
"I'm going to fix this. This time, he's going to listen when I talk and he's not going to be Broody McBrooderson. I'm bringing Angel back to the land of the living whether he likes it or not."
And for the first time since Spike had entered the apartment? He didn't argue. Working with the slayer had taught him better than that...
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