The Next Connection

Author: Lysa

Parts: 11 - 15

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
 

Part 11

 Lower beings, you continue to refute our testimony. We Oracles to the Powers that Be must question this logic. Would you defy the true course of destiny yielding to the whims of fate alone? Thus placing the vampire and his human mate on a path leading into the darkness of their deepest desires? They are neither so deep nor hidden, but their existence alone weaves a dangerous thread, for it is not yet time for the future to give way to the present. Thus our Champion will face a crossroads in his life where choices and changes could alter his existence and his own destiny. And so she who created their connection now must spin a web of lies.
 

“An earthquake destroyed the mission back in 1812,” Willow peered at the data on her computer. “Looks like they just built right over it.”

The discovery of the old mission at the construction site of the new Sunnydale Cultural Partnership Center was a lucky find for the university and its anthropology department. Not so great a find for Xander, who had been involved with the construction team and ended up falling in the hole that opened beneath his jackhammer. It was an interesting discussion for Willow who thought the timing of the discovery so close to Thanksgiving was strangely appropriate.

Buffy was not that interested in the conversation and instead focused on the thought of cooking a holiday meal for her *other* family while her mom was away. Even Riley was leaving on an early morning flight back to Iowa for the holiday. While she mentally reviewed her shopping list, Buffy subconsciously turned toward the window staring out into the darkness.

“What’s out there?” Willow asked. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

With a laugh, Buffy fingered the necklace at her throat. “What look is that?”

Willow told her, “The something-is-out-there look. I think it’s a Slayer thing. You get that look just before we get attacked by vampires or demons or homework-assigning professors.”

Truly looking out the dorm-room window, Buffy revealed that she saw nothing out of the ordinary. “I was just thinking about us cooking a real Thanksgiving meal this year. Just you and me and Giles and Xander. No boxed up frozen food for us— just the best— all fresh and yummy goodness.”

“Oh.” Now Willow understood. “So it’s *turkey* slayage you were thinking about.”

Willow continued on with her research, intrigued by the history of the mission. Buffy went to take a shower, preparing for her date with Riley Finn. Military Guy was going to be here any minute. He was never late. With a sigh, Willow got up from her desk chair, stretching. She really didn’t want to be here when Riley arrived.

He was a nice guy, but there was something about him she disliked. Maybe it was the fact that he worked for a secret military operation that performed behavioral testing on Sunnydale’s demon population. They had already gotten to Spike— putting a chip into his head that prevented him from hurting humans. Lucky thing, since he came looking for her again, this time planning to follow-through with his idea of biting her.

Still, Willow had to wonder about what the initiative might do to a practicing Wicca.

Shoving some money into the pocket of her skirt, Willow figured she would escape before Buffy’s boyfriend showed up at the door. There was only one thing bothering her about this plan— Slayer instincts. Buffy had been staring out that window for a reason, even if she couldn’t see a problem. She was just too wrapped up in her own plans for Turkey Day and tonight’s sojourn with Riley that she wasn’t interested in finding out.

Willow glanced out the window hoping to see nothing, but it was not *nothing* that was walking out of the shadow of the trees below their dorm window.

It was Angel.

Slayer senses. Wow! What was Angel doing back in Sunnydale? Willow wondered why he had not called to warn her about the visit. After all, he didn’t have the excuse of not having their number. She had emailed the dorm phone number to Cordelia’s computer just after moving in.

Willow decided to follow the vampire. Surely she could catch up with him. Ask him why he was in town. Too bad Buffy was showering or her friend would be certain to track and find him. Though, all things considered, maybe it was a good idea to see Angel alone. No telling what was going on.

After ten minutes of trailing after him, leading into the center of town, Willow realized that Angel had disappeared. “Vampires! Move so darned fast a girl can’t keep up.”

Giving up, Willow spotted the coffee shop two doors down across the street. “Mmm! Looks like they’re selling coffee at the coffee shop. Yum.”

Waiting for a car to pass, Willow scampered across Main Street and headed down the sidewalk. She was still muttering to herself about Angel’s sneaky getaway when passing the dark alley situated between the curiosity store and the coffee shop.

Grabbed from behind, a hand reached out to cover Willow’s scream. The strong arms of her assailant pulled her deep into the center of the shadowed passage. He flipped her around like a rag doll with his hand still over her mouth. It made Willow a little dizzy, but she held onto the large wrist trying hopelessly to move it away.

Then Willow found her back against the hard surface of the brick wall, its ridges scraping against her sweater. It was dark, but she could sense that her attacker’s strength would be far too much to overcome. And his hand over her mouth prevented the casting of a spell that might save her.

She glared into the darkness, meeting his gaze. Surprise turned to shock which gave way to a smattering of fear. No, no, no! It couldn’t be.

“Hello, Willow,” the vampire shushed her. “It’s just me. I’m going to take my hand away, so don’t scream.”

Willow’s eyes glinted with just a tiny hint of defiance.

“Tell me you won’t scream, Willow, or we’ll be having a very one-sided conversation.”

With a shake of her head, she indicated her cooperation. As his hand dropped away, she released his wrist. “A-Angel?”

Pulling her to a point where the moonlight streamed down in between the buildings, he let her assess that for herself. “Willow—,” he started only to be cut off by her accusation.

“You’re evil again!”

Angelus was back. How could Angelus be back? Cordy was supposed to prevent that— unless something had happened to her.

“I’m not evil.”

“Huh! That’s what they all say.” Willow thought about screaming. She glanced toward the distant end of the alley where the sidewalk appeared. “Y-you’re not here to punish me again. Are you? Because, I haven’t done anything— lately.”

Grinning down at her, Angel promised her that Angelus had not returned. He pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. “I’m not here to punish anyone, Willow. I came to help Buffy.”

Upon being released from his arms, Willow looked relieved and then concerned, “Oh. So, no spanking? Uh— good! That’s a good thing. What’s going on?”

“Doyle had a vision. Buffy’s in danger.”

Her brow furrowed at the news. “Nothing has come up— except talking turkey slayage. For Thanksgiving. Oh— except finding the old mission, but there’s nothing weird about that. So far.”

Angel explained that Doyle’s visions didn’t always come with an exact time and location. This one just revealed Buffy, impending danger and the fact that Angel needed to haul ass to Sunnydale. “I’m just here to watch out for her. Not to barge back into her life. Not to put thoughts into her head that shouldn’t be there. I’m heading back home to L.A. as soon as this is over.

Digesting the information, Willow told him point blank, “Buffy will have a hissy fit when she finds out you came to Sunnydale without talking to her.”

“How will she know?”

After a pause, she realized what he was saying. “Uh— not me?”

“No. Not you, my little witch.” The vampire looked decidedly serious about the matter.

He expected her to acquiesce just because he wanted it that way. With her hands on her narrow hips, Willow defiantly accused him of trying to hide from Buffy. “You’re scared to face her now that you’re living with Cordelia again.”

“Living with her?”

“That’s what Cordy implied in the email she sent me,” Willow revealed. “She wrote something about sleeping in your bed.”

Angel figured that must have made interesting reading. “Did Buffy see it?”

“No! Are you crazy? Buffy would freak! All she remembers is your love for her— alone. She doesn’t know about Cordy being your mate.”

“Yeah.”

“So are you telling me that Cordy isn’t living with you? That— that she’s not— you know—”

“— having sex with me?” Angel finished.

“Yeah. Doing that.”

Absently, Angel wondered if Willow had been with a man since Angelus took her virginity at the Sunnydale High School library. She was blushing in the darkness and her heartbeat sped up considerably at the briefest mention of sex. There was even a hint of her arousal on the night air— luscious strawberries just like he remembered.

“No, Willow,” he responded truthfully. “Cordy stayed at my apartment for two days between moves. I took the sofa. She didn’t tell you about her new place with its resident ghost?”

“Cordy lives with a ghost?”

“Yeah. Name’s Dennis. Long story.”

“Uh— okay. So no s-sex. That’s why I thought something had happened. That you were Angelus again.”

“No.”

“So how is Cordelia?”

“Fine. Too fine. That’s why I wanted to see you.”

How could his mate be *too* fine? Giving him a questioning look, Willow waited for him to speak.

“We made a pact to ignore the attraction between us,” he said. “She doesn’t want to be with a demon. Cordelia is— dating.”

The darkness hid his full expression, but not the piercing amber of his eyes. Willow was a little scared by the intensity there. “Isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Fuck, no!”

Angel using bad language was never a good sign. Usually, he acted with that Old World charm.

“Then tell her how you feel.”

”It’s not that simple, Willow.”

“Why not?”

Pacing a short distance, Angel turned back to her. “You know why not. It’s the reason I asked you to cast that damnable spell in the first place. I don’t want her to be in danger.”

“And she’s not while working for you? I got the impression that you handled some out of the ordinary cases at Angel Investigations.”

“I meant danger from me,” there was a growl in his voice.

Willow nodded.

“You sound like Doyle,” the vampire admitted. “I’m getting the same lecture from him.”

“I said it first,” Willow reminded him that she had cautioned against this before invoking her magick. “So what is it you want from me, Angel?”

“I want the crystal,” he held out his hand as if she could hand it over in an instant.

Willow pressed her back into the wall again. Oh, no! It was happening now. What the Oracles had forewarned. Their Champion was looking to reverse the memory spell that kept everyone but the two of them ignorant of the year Angel, Cordelia and Buffy had been together. The higher beings spoke of serious consequences if she revealed the truth. They swore her to secrecy.

Oh, God! She was going to have to lie to Angel. Had anyone ever successfully lied to a vampire? Someone who could detect the changing rhythms of your heart and lungs? She doubted it.

There was only one thing to do, Willow decided. She would tell him the truth. Not the *whole* truth, but something like it.

“I don’t have the crystal, Angel.”

“What?!” Shock hit him dead center at the words.

“It’s lost to me. Gone forever. Out of my hands.”

Stalking up to her, Angel gripped her slight shoulders. She let out a cry of pain causing him to decrease the pressure, but only a little. “You careless witch! I told you to guard that crystal with your life.”

“I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do to get it back.”

“There better be,” Angel barely comprehended that he was threatening her. His inner demon surged forth. “Are you looking for punishment, Willow? Do you understand what you’ve done wrong?”

“Y-yes!” She was getting scared again. Her heart was a lump in her throat.

“Which question were you answering?” Angel asked. “Punishment or understanding?”

“Yes, I understand what I’ve done,” cried Willow now shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind. “I can’t take it back. I can’t take back the spell.”

“Find a way.”

Her eyes were wide with fear. “Angel, I can’t— not without the crystal.”

“Then perhaps you do need to be punished.”

“N-no. Please! No, Angel.” Willow begged to be released, her voice coming in soft gasps.

Scenting her arousal, Angel glared down at the little redhead pressed up against the wall. “Are you certain that’s what you want? I don’t think so. I think you remember that day in the library— just like I do. Was it the pain from your broken arm? Did you like getting spanked? Or was it just the fact that I took your virginity afterward and made you cum?”

Willow looked from left to right noting that the vampire’s hands were up against the wall, his arms blocking her path. Somewhere inside her head a part of her was telling her to scream. Another part was searching frantically for a spell that would ward him off. There too, in a tiny much darker corner of her mind, she reeled in pleasure at the memory.

It was only when the shuddering gasp of longing escaped her throat that Angel told her, “I don’t punish my women that way, Willow. My style is different without a soul. That’s not to say that having my hand on your bare ass wouldn’t be fun.”

This was Angel talking, she reminded herself with continued shock.

“It’s just foreplay, not a punishment.” Angel watched her eyes dilate to their fullest in the dark and the sweet scent of her arousal wouldn’t even require vampire senses to detect. “It’s a prelude to pleasure.”

Her fingers wrapped around the flat line of his belt, but Angel grasped her wrists and dropped them back to her side. “You don’t deserve that pleasure, little witch. Be glad that I have my soul, because without it—”

He ran his fingers along the rapid pulse in her slender throat. “Without it, I’d make you pay for this. Cordelia is everything to me. Everything, Willow. I want her back, but that won’t happen unless you can find the damn crystal.”

Willow let out a tiny sound. “Eep!”

Trying to calm himself, Angel knew that his fury had driven him too far. He didn’t want to hurt Willow, but something about her always seemed to lead him down a darker path. It was the magicks, he figured. He scented the darkness within her and simply reacted to it. Maybe it was the fact that she had cast the spell to return his soul.

With his hands still on the wall on either side of her, Angel bent his head down so that his forehead rested upon hers. “I’ve scared you again. Seem to make that a habit.”

“B-bad habit!”

“Oh, hell.” Angel cursed himself for doing this to her. It was no worse than what Angelus had done, except that he tortured her mentally rather than physically. God, how would he make this up to her? He still depended upon her friendship. She was the only one who knew about the spell.

“Let me say that I’m sorry,” he pleaded her consent. “Let me show you that it’s not all about pain and fear.”

“W-what are you going to do?” She gazed downward, not wanting to look into his eyes.

Angel gently placed his fingers along her jaw, tilting her face upward. “Just a kiss. Just one kiss to show my regrets.”

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t manage a single word— not even a stutter. But her tongue brushed against her lower lip in unconscious wonder at the thought of kissing Angel. The sight of her parted lips was all the consent he needed and the vampire lowered his mouth to hers.

Almost instantly, Willow was seeing stars. It might have been the shock of it all, but she found herself reaching up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Golly, he was so big and muscular. Placing his hands under her arms, Angel lifted her higher so that he didn’t have to bend down low and her legs automatically moved to surround his waist.

Softly, tenderly he kissed the bowed curve of her upper lip, and then gave equal attention to the fuller bottom lip. Each press of his lips on hers sent tiny shock waves down to her groin. Then she yielded to the gentle whisper of his mouth and soon was drowning in the sensation of his kiss. This wasn’t just one kiss, but a series of highly pleasurable caresses all performed by the slightest movements of his sensuous mouth and tongue.

Sometime later, when Willow descended from the heaven his kiss created, the vampire moved one hand down to her leg and extracted her from his waist. Her aroused body shifted down his hard torso until she reached the ground. The brick wall supported her tiny frame as she languidly leaned against it for support.

Willow looked up at Angel with half-closed eyes. To think that he could do all that with just a kiss. One part of her was ready to ask if there was still an opening in his Blonde, Brunette and Redhead Collection. The rest fell back to Earth with the stark realization that this kiss was no different than the spanking. Ultimately, he still wanted to get his way.

Straightening her spine, Willow’s stared turned dark. “You’re forgiven, Angel. In this whole scheme, I think that makes us even.”

“Maybe so,” Angel shrugged while regretting that once again, he had let his sexually-charged vampire instincts interfere.

“Just one more thing,” Willow formed the words on kiss-swollen lips. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

Wryly, Angel agreed. Pointing out, “I seem to have that effect, lately. Cordy told me the same thing.”

“Get the hint?” Willow arched a thin red brow. “Maybe the spell was a good thing, after all. You’re a vampire, Angel, but you have a soul. That should tell you something.”
 

“Though even I sometimes forget it, I am the demon Willow. It’s the soul that lets me—”

Breaking off, Angel caught Buffy’s familiar scent on the wind. Signaling for silence, he grasped Willow’s wrist taking her with him to the edge of the alley. Across the street near the bakery, Buffy was standing close to a young man. They were speaking, their eyes connecting in ways that suggested intimacy.

“W-who is that?” Angel asked the question despite his suspicions.

Willow gulped loudly. “Riley— her boyfriend.”

“So I’ve been replaced here, too.” Angel was looking a little dangerous again.

Tugging on his jacket to gain the vampire’s attention again, Willow purported, “Your plan actually worked, Angel. You’ve succeeded. Buffy has moved beyond her obsession for you. She’s trying to get on with her life— if you’ll let her.”

“My plan succeeded?” Big fucking deal. “My mate and my lover are involved with other men. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

“You mean jealousy?” Willow knew that emotion all too well. “It’s the feeling that made me cast that first spell on Cordelia— the one that made her ignore her fear of vampires. The one that gave Angelus an opening. I was jealous of Cordy and Xander. So mad I could spit! But— hey, I knew magick. That’s what she got— a taste of my anger.”

Gruff laughter sounded from his throat as he realized the irony. A taste of anger. A hint of darkness, just enough to make her give herself to a soulless creature of the night. To let him claim her as his mate. Though it wasn’t Willow’s intention to do so, her actions certainly brought him to this dark and dreary place in his life. After the light, laughter and happiness of immersing himself in the depths of their love, this place was gloomier and lonelier than ever.

He was so close to what he wanted. In L.A., Cordelia was within touching distance every day. Now Buffy stood close to that milk-faced farm boy— he could tell just by looking at his face despite the regimented quality about his stance. Just a hint of trouble behind that sweet smile he sent her way.

That really, really pissed him off.

“You’re growling again,” Willow hit him on the arm. “Stop that. She’ll hear you.”

Angel turned to face her. “Just find me the damned crystal, Willow.”

He stalked back down the alley, pausing to send a trash can flying with a kick. Angel made a powerful leap over the back wall and was gone. Willow collapsed back against the brick wall, feeling drained of energy. Shrinking down under her own slight weight on legs that would no longer support her, Willow found herself on the ground.

She had done it! The scary part was over. Not the threats or the kissing. No, she survived that. It was lying to Angel that did her in. She hadn’t given in to her need to tell Angel the truth about the crystal— or where to find it.

Buffy and Riley came crashing into the alley. “Willow! I heard a noise and saw you falling.”

“Are you okay?” Riley asked as he helped her to stand.

“Y-yes, I’m fine.”

“What happened?” Buffy held onto her hand, her face a picture of concern for her friend.

More lies, Willow thought with a sigh. Here we go!

“I came for coffee. Thought I heard a noise in the alley.”

“What was it? Something— evil? Were you attacked?”

Shaking her head, Willow explained, “No. It was just a kitty. A big, nasty growly kitty. It ran away.”
 

And so the web of lies is spun. The secret protected. Our Champion now approaches the crossroads, one path leading to the Chosen One and the other to our potential Seer-to-Be.

Part 12

 Cordelia slammed the office door, following Doyle down to Angel’s empty apartment. Not only had her date with Pierce been mind-numbingly boring, but he turned out to be a coward in the worst way. He couldn’t even take out one measly vampire that attacked them when he was dropping her off. It was left for *Doyle* to save her. Pierce screamed like a major sissy boy before driving off, deserting his date and leaving her to the vicious killer. Fortunately, Doyle arrived in the nick of time to dust the creature.

“So where is our tall, dark and broody boss?” Cordelia asked as she removed he shoes and curled up on the couch.

Sitting down on one of the living room chairs, Doyle gave her a look. Why did *he* have to be the one to tell her? “Out.”

“On a job— or a mission?” Cordelia’s implication was that one resulted in payment. The other didn’t.

“A mission,” he clarified. “Just don’t expect him back right away.”

Cordelia propped herself up on the couch pillows. “What’s that supposed to mean? He had *better* be back soon. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.”

“Thanksgiving?” Doyle had forgotten about that.

“Yeah! You know the meal where everyone sits down together and gives thanks for all the good things that have happened to them in the past year? Then everyone falls into an endorphin-induced turkey coma?”

Doyle glanced toward the stairs. Escape was the only way to get out of this, but he knew that he’d get it later if Cordelia found out that he had gotten out of telling her the truth.

“I think I remember hearing about that,” he joked.

“It’s our first major holiday together— you, me and Angel.” Cordelia didn’t count this past Halloween. “I have plans for us.”

He had to ask. “Who’s doing the cooking?”

“Well, duh!” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “I was gonna make Angel do it. He’s the only one who cooks around here, even if he doesn’t eat it himself.”

“I don’t know that scrambled eggs and toast qualify,” Doyle pointed out. “He just didn’t want you to starve while you were living here.”

“The turkey is already cooked,” she explained her genius. “Just needs to be heated. It’s all those other holiday goodies that I need help with.”

Doyle promised to help her. “If nothing else, we can have cold turkey sandwiches.”

Glowering at the idea, Cordelia demanded to know what vision had sent Angel off to fight the good fight. Suddenly curious to see her reaction, Doyle told her point blank. “Angel is in Sunnydale.”

“What?!”

“Angel is—”

“I heard you the first time,” Cordy sat up straight, placing her feet back on the floor with her hands gripping the couch cushions on either side of her. She felt like her whole body was stinging in reaction to the news. “He’s with Buffy— for Thanksgiving.”

“No. I told you, Cordy,” Doyle rushed to remind her. “There was a mission. Besides, I don’t think vampires celebrate human holidays. Especially ones where the rituals involve gorging yourself of solid food.”

Cordelia stopped staring at her painted toenails to look at the seer. “Hah! Angel does so celebrate holidays— in his own, creepy vampire way. He celebrates Valentines Day a lot. Why should Thanksgiving be any different? Except for the maiming and killing part.”

That thought disturbed Doyle who had no clue what she was talking about. Sounded like something from the vampire’s days as Angelus.

“Why go to Sunnydale now?” Cordelia’s lower lip pooched out in just the slighted hint of a pout. “It wasn’t because of my date, was it?”

Doyle barely stopped himself from laughing. That would not have gone over too well. It always amazed him how she could take nearly any situation and twist it into this Cordy-centric version of itself. The whole world revolved around this girl. With an inner smile, Doyle admitted he felt that way too.

“I had a vision from the PTB. Buffy is in danger. She’s the victim, being attacked by some kind of evil.”

His lame description was noted. “First off, Buffy Summers is *always* in danger. Hello, Slayer! And— evil in Sunnydale? Pfft! No big surprise there. You get evil with your Cheerios in the morning.”

Growing up on a Hellmouth had given Cordelia a unique perspective on the world, he realized. That didn’t change the fact that he already knew what was driving this whole conversation. Cordy was jealous. It was gnawing at her, though Doyle doubted she knew what it was.

“Couldn’t Angel have sent an email about your vision?” Cordy asked. “Or called? I’m almost certain we paid our telephone bill this month.”

“It’s not that simple. My vision was vague, not like the ones I get where I could tell you what color underwear people are wearing.”

Eew!

Doyle continued, interested in testing this jealousy theory. “Why are you so riled up?”

“I’m *not* riled up!” Hazel eyes flashed in his direction. Then admitting to herself that she was upset, Cordelia realized that she felt like scratching somebody’s eyes out. She’s just not certain whether Buffy or Angel would get it first. “Let Buffy have him tomorrow. Just as long as he comes back. You do think he’ll come back, don’t you, Doyle?”

A look of doubt flashed across her beautiful face. “Angel has made a life here in Los Angeles— with us and Angel Investigations. He has a calling, a mission from the Powers that Be.”

“You think that will matter if Buffy crooks her little finger at him?”

Shrugging, Doyle told her, “Would it matter to you? If Angel didn’t come back, would it matter?”

“Sure it would. I like working with you clowns.” She grinned at his grumpy response to her description. “Of course, I’ve just been biding my time here waiting for my big break. I almost had that last audition.”

Cordelia’s smile dimmed just a bit, “But I’d miss seeing you everyday— and Angel.”

“Angel?” The soft Irish brogue prompted for more.

“He’ll be back, Doyle. Buffy can have him for Thanksgiving, but if he deserts me— us again for Christmas, he gonna get his ass kicked.”
 

Our Champion’s return to the City of Angels smacks of the unresolved. The day of thanks comes to an end with the eyes of the Chosen One closed to his presence. The portents indicate danger and all signs show that our Champion will bring his quest for the crystal to us.
 

Winding up the old mantle clock, after setting it to the current time of 8:53, Angel placed it back on his desk. The angle looked off. He checked it with a pencil, watching it roll down the surface. He was oblivious to the pair watching him from the outer office.

Leaning forward onto the window ledge looking in, Cordelia asked Doyle, “When did he get back?”

It was the day after Thanksgiving. Despite the vampire’s absence, they had a terrific time without him. Yeah, Cordy thought. Great.

Doyle told her, “Late last night.”

“And?”

“Ah, he seemed fine.”

Nudging him with her elbow, Cordelia knew he was hedging. Fine? How was that even possible?

“He saw Buffy. He was in Sunnydale tracking her and that thingamajig you saw in your vision.”

Glancing back at Angel, she decided he looked less broody than usual. “Where is the crabby scowl, the morbid gloom?”

Doyle stared. The vamp didn’t look like he was rolling with laughter or floating on Cloud Nine either.

Cordelia turned to the seer who appeared less than impressed with her concern. “This means that it cut deeper than usual. Batten down the hatches, here comes Hurricane Buffy.”

Though he did not doubt that Angel had a dark and dreary walk down Memory Lane, Doyle figured that Cordy’s assessment of the situation was weighted by her own false memories. She had no idea about Angel’s history with Buffy, just a patched up romance pieced together by a spell.

Angel had told him he still had feelings for the Slayer, but Doyle doubted they compared to the love he had for his mate. Maybe Doyle was wrong about that, but he couldn’t imagine anyone choosing the little blonde over Cordelia. But then, Cordelia always said that Angel had a thing for blondes.

“You think?” Doyle was curious. After everything Angel had told him, he was hoping that he would resolve this whole Buffy and Cordy thing and stick to one girl for a change. “Maybe he’s over her.”

With a deep sigh, Cordelia patted him on the shoulder. “You have so much to learn little Irish man,”

Turning back toward the window where just moments ago Cordelia had surreptitiously been eyeing the way Angel’s black pants fit over his tight male bottom, her gaze turned to horror as she saw the vampire take a stake out his desk drawer testing its tip with his finger.

“Oh, my God!” Gasping, Cordy ran into the office with Doyle on her heels. “Don’t do it, Angel!”

Doyle had no idea how right Cordelia was about this Hurricane Buffy phenomenon. Less than three days in her presence and the vampire was planning to stake himself. “Listen to me, man. It’s not worth it.”

“It’s not?”

Edging toward the desk, Cordy felt her breath catch in her throat. No, no, no. Better that Buffy keep him in Sunnydale than let this happen. “You can’t let her get to you like this.”

The stake was still at chest level. Doyle gulped down at the sight of it. He never imagined that the vampire could be so distraught over the Slayer. Holding out a hand, “Why don’t you let me have that?”

“Because I need it to level my desk.” Those two were acting very strangely. Angel bent down to stick the tip of the stake under one of the legs of the desk. “The floor is uneven.”

Smirking, Angel realized, “You two thought—”

“Doyle did,” Cordy piped in before Angel could finish. “You know how he jumps to conclusions. Just ‘cause you saw Buffy.”

She waved the idea off then returned her hand to her hips. Angel followed the path of the hand, noting that her tiny waist was bared by a midriff halter top and a low hip-hugging denim skirt. The sight of her navel made him want to sink onto his knees at her feet to delve his tongue into its winking center.

“It wasn’t a social call,” Doyle reminded her. Now that Angel was back and not planning to dust himself, he had to give the vamp a little male support.

Angel’s attention slipped back up to Cordelia’s face, pausing ever so slightly at the round curve of her breasts pressing against the top that left both shoulders and stomach bare. He loved that top. The fact that he was staring wasn’t entirely lost on Cordy, but she figured the vampire was just trying to weasel out of the conversation.

“Don’t tell me—,” she gave him an opening, “you were only there to protect her. You stayed out of sight like a good little vamp. Buffy with all of her powerful Slayer senses didn’t even know you were there.”

“Uh— right.” How did she know that? Sometimes, Cordelia ability to sense the obvious was beyond him.

Lifting her hand in the air, Cordy then slapped it back down on her hip. “So what’s the real deal?”

“That was it. I avoided her,” Angel admitted.

“Really?”

Angel nodded, but he had to be honest. “Buffy will always be a part of me and that will never change.”

“But she’s human,” Doyle brought up Angel’s old argument about Cordelia and turned it on him, just to bring up a point. “You’re not.”

Frowning, Angel looked down for an instant. Then he caught Cordelia’s gaze. “No, I’m not. And that’s never going to change. We said our goodbyes months ago, no need to stir any of this up.”

Cordelia really, really didn’t want to bring this up, but she was trying hard to be Angel’s friend. “You don’t want to ‘stir’, but if *my* ex came to town and was all stalking me in the shadows and then left and then didn’t even say ‘hello’ I’d be—”

From the open door, Buffy Summers finished, “A little upset. Wouldn’t you?”

Angel was agape at the sight of the Slayer standing in his office. How did she get in without him noticing? Moreover, how did she know to come? Had Willow broken her word— again?

Like him, Buffy was dressed completely in black, looking like his matched pair. Her blonde hair was long, light and shining against the soft, sun-kissed curve of her cheeks. God, she was so beautiful.

Beautiful and quiet in her anger, he realized. Angel supposed she had a right to that anger, finding out the truth this way.

“Buffy!” Gasping in shock, Cordelia couldn’t believe that she was seeing this. Though Cordelia never really liked the blonde, she never hated her either. “Buffy, you’re here in town. What brings you to—?”

Cutting her off, Buffy wasn’t talking to Cordelia when she gave her answer, but to Angel. “I came to see my father. Thought I’d stop by.”

Angel’s gaze darted over to Cordy and Doyle as he wondered what they were thinking of all this. His mate was looking— either jealous or angry. He couldn’t tell. Either one could be bad news. Giving Doyle a pointed stare, Angel hinted that it might be best to leave and take Cordy with him.

“Uh—,” Doyle finally got it. Moving closer to the door, he held out his hand. “Cordelia, why don’t we take in a movie? Say— the director’s cut of the Titanic? I think Buffy and Angel have some issues to resolve.”

Cordelia looked at Buffy’s rigid posture and Angel’s uncomfortable expression. Lifting his dark brown eyes to hers, he waited in silence. The vampire kept looking deep, so deep he seemed to be staring into her soul. Angel said nothing, obviously intending to let Doyle take her away.

Feeling strangely angry by the sudden arrival of the Slayer just when Cordelia started to think Angel might have used this visit to say goodbye, she realized that it would never be over. Unless—

“Doyle is right. You have issues. Good luck with that.” Cordelia took hold of Doyle’s hand and let her lead him from the building.

Left alone, Buffy and Angel suffered through a few awkward seconds before the vampire remembered his manners. “Can I get you anything?”

“An explanation,” countered Buffy still standing stiff. “Who do you think you are coming to my town and following me around behind my back?”

“I’m— sorry?”

“Angel, is this some new torture you’ve cooked up for me?”

He never wanted that. Angelus had provided Buffy enough mental grief to last her a lifetime. “No, I don’t want to torment you.”

“What is it? You can see me, but I can’t see you? What are we playing here?”

Buffy was obviously incensed at his failure to come and see her. Frankly, this was just the kind of thing Angel had been avoiding. Not to mention the likelihood of having to meet up with her hulking lover-boy.

“We’re not playing at anything,” Angel paced around to sit back on the edge of the desk, his long legs extended out in front of him. “I wrestled with this decision.”

Huffing, Buffy commented accusingly, “Which you made without me.”

“I tried to do what I thought was right,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t understand. It’s complicated how this all happened. It’s kind of a very *long* story.”

He’d always told Buffy the truth. Could he do it now?

Buffy never gave him the chance to tell her. She pointedly told him how, “You’re new sidekick had a vision, I was in it, you came to Sunnydale.”

Nope. Couldn’t tell her the truth just yet. She made it so easy to back out of it by giving him the perfect opening. “Okay. So I guess it’s a *short* story.”

Shaking her blond head in disbelief at his lame attempt at humor during this serious discussion, Buffy added, “You didn’t feel I was important enough to even tell me you were there.”

Giving her a look he hoped conveyed his feelings Angel felt an accompanying tightness in his chest. This whole conversation was uncomfortable. “I’m trying to explain. It’s because I feel you’re important that I didn’t tell you.”

The logic did not compute. “I’m a big girl now, Angel. I’m not in High School anymore. A lot has happened in my life since you left.”

Big hulking off-the-farm boyfriend, Angel tried to quell his rising jealousy at the thought. No matter his feelings. No matter his future with Buffy— or without her, it would always be the same. He was a vampire. He was her first lover and she was his first love.

“I know.” Angel tried to be fair. “I respect that.”

“And I don’t need you skulking around trying to protect me,” Buffy added for good measure. Then said, “Unless, of course, I’m in some gigantic fight to the death, which—
I was last night. That was you helping me, wasn’t it?”

With a one-sided curl of his mouth, Angel admitted dryly. “I was in the neighborhood— skulking.”

Just then, an armored demon broke through the glass shattering it and sending pieces flying across the room. The window blinds were tossed upward in a wide arc, but settled back over the open hole to block the sun. Both Slayer and vampire instantly transformed from ex-girlfriend/boyfriend roles and the fight was on.

“Friend of yours?” Buffy quipped.

Dodging the green demon’s sword thrusts, she spotted the stake Angel had used to prop up his desk. Buffy acrobatically and snapped it into her hand. The monster wasn’t a vampire, but stake wounds could still do serious damage in a pinch. When Angel’s kick sent the samurai-garbed demon backpedaling into the wall, it dropped its long sword to the ground.

“Never— saw it before.”

Rolling, Angel picked up the sword thrusting it deeply into the creature’s belly, evoking a cry from its throat. Florescent green blood dripped down the surface of the sword. Still not done, the demon made one last effort by swiping a second sword at Buffy. With amazing speed, the Slayer avoided the attack as she flipped over and landed on Angel who was still on the floor.

The demon pulled itself off the sword impaling it and after turning it ran back to the broken window and jumped through. There was no instantaneous effort to follow as Buffy and Angel realized that their firm bodies were flush against each other. Both were staring into the other’s eyes with a surprised reaction.

Untangling themselves, they got up. Buffy felt a little awkward, but it was obvious that they just couldn’t let the creature escape after it interrupted their conversation. “It was rude. We should go kill it.”

Angel nodded. “I’m free.”

The vampire tracked the demon through the sewers it had entered from the sidewalk. Concluding that it was headed toward the ocean, Angel led her down one of two tunnels that branched off. Buffy scrunched her nose at the thought that he could track the beast just by scenting its blood.

“Great. That’s a handy skill.”

He had momentarily forgotten that Buffy’s memories would have changed too. The fact of the matter was, only after she got closer to Cordelia did Buffy really bother to get to know him as a vampire.

Buffy failed to notice that he had stopped to stare at her. “Maybe if your crack staff hadn’t run off at the first sign of trouble they could have helped us research. Find out what this thing is and why it wants to kill us.”

Crack staff? They were so much more than that, not that Buffy seemed to care. Angel was about to tell her as much when a scampering rat crossed their paths, distracting them.

They continued to hunt the demon. Angel ran his hand along a corner, touching the substance on the wall to verify its nature. The demon’s blood.

Continuing to talk, Buffy and Angel moved further down the tunnel, but did not spot their quarry. The vampire was falling back a bit looking a little dizzy. “I feel weird.”

He shook it off. Upon reaching a ladder leading up to the surface, Buffy suggested that the demon warrior might have headed above ground.

“Into the light?” Angel couldn’t go there.

Taking hold of the ladder and moving up two steps, Buffy look down at him with a puzzled expression. A quick glance at his hands confirmed her suspicions. “Where is the Gem of Amarra?”

“Destroyed it,” Angel sent her a shrug.

Buffy gaped at him in blinking astonishment. “What?!”

“Yeah. That was pretty much Cordy’s reaction too.”

“For once, I have to agree with her.” Buffy sounded almost amused by the irony. Agree with Cordelia? Never thought that would happen.”

“Well my decision— that’s *another* long story.”

“Huh. We’ll talk about it later.”

Agreeing to split up, Angel gave Buffy directions to The Lone Bar, a demon haunt located at Second near Beach. “Demons go there sometimes when they need to get patched up.”

It wasn’t long after the Slayer’s departure that Angel came face to face with his prey. The demon attacked, apparently not wounded as direly as it initially appeared. Its first move cut a deep slice through Angel’s right hand leaving dark pooling blood welling to the surface.

Using his battle-axe, Angel fought the demon. In a furious battle, each struggled for supremacy. Finally, the vampire grabbed the demon’s sword hand turning it to stab in in the heart with its own sword. The creature shrieked, glaring at it with its dark eyes. As the demon fell back, Angel noted that its glowing now covered the cut on his right hand.

As he watched, the green blood swirled into the deep gash instantly healing it. Then an instant later, the glow raced up the length of his arm and swept through the rest of his body. Collapsing after a choked cry, Angel struggled to his knees gasping for air as the sound of his own heartbeat thumped in his ears.

In disbelief at what he was sensing, Angel stared down at his palm. He moved it to the left side of his chest and dared to speak his thoughts.

“I’m alive.”

Doyle and Cordelia entered Angel’s office to discover the destruction. The seer assumed there had been an attack, but Cordy cautioned him against that line of thinking.

“These are the usual aftermath of the Angel and Buffy Show,” Cordy explained as though she had lots of experience in the matter. “Destructo Girl strikes again! First they talk out their differences and then they punch them out.”

Doyle had seen no sign of either of them since returning. They’d opted for cappuccino instead of the movie. He wondered just how violent these little lover’s spats got when he caught sight of a large pile of dust on the floor. Pointing it out to Cordelia, he asked, “Is that what I think it is?”

Running to the spot, Cordy was on the floor in a flash examining what she feared might be Angel’s dusty remains. “Oh. My bad! I forgot to dust under the carpet.”

Heading out of the back office, Cordy and Doyle were just in time to see Angel walking in through the front door looking dazed. Cordelia saw that he was alone. “Angel. Are you okay?”

It was Doyle that noticed first. “It’s daylight, Cordelia. He came through the front door. Angel is alive!”

“Alive?”

There was a sound of wonder in her voice as she watched Angel walk over to the open windows to stare up at the sun. This was ten times— no, a thousand times better than seeing him stand in the sunshine with the Ring of Amarra on his finger.

Omigod! Angel was human!

Doyle asked, “What the hell happened, man? This is— wonderful.”

Angel slowly explained about the demon attack. “I tracked it— and killed it. Some of its blood mixed with mine.”

“So you wound up with a pulse,” Doyle actually checked it.

“Yeah. I’m mortal now,” Angel perked up at the idea now that the initial shock was over. Then, staring toward Cordelia, he added, “I have a mortal body.”

Angel lunged— at the mini-fridge behind Cordy. He nibbled and gnawed his way through bits of everything in sight. With his mouth full, he was still at it, delighting in the way the food tasted on his tongue. Vampire taste buds were so different than human ones.

“Oh my God! Food— this is so unbelievable.”

Gaping at him, Doyle and Cordelia could only wonder at his feelings. They were far too focused on their own joy at seeing his. “I forgot how good it all tastes when you’re alive.”

Cordelia’s smile was gathering power, now showing hints of glinting teeth. “Yeah. And they didn’t even have Cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip when you were alive.”

That was one of Cordy’s favorites. She used to like to eat that in bed. Said he helped to stop it from melting so fast when she wanted to lick it off him. “Mmm, I want some! Can you get that?”

“It’ll go straight to your thighs,” she warned merrily.

Doyle wasn’t certain what was going on with the look on Angel’s face, but he had to remind the vamp— no— former-vampire that there was more to becoming human than a food binge. “We have to figure out what happened. There has to be something in one of those books of yours on this demon and how its blood made you human again.”

They were already pulling out research material when Cordelia asked, “Where is Buffy?”

Angel had forgotten about her in his haze. “She’s in Santa Monica near the Lone Star.”

Further explanation did not come as Angel gripped his stomach in pain. “Cordy, would you find Buffy? Tell her I killed the demon.”

Cordelia glanced at Doyle for a second, before telling Angel, “Okay.”

That was all she said despite the questions about what might happen next. Maybe that was obvious. He sent her to find Buffy.

“Wait!” Angel called out to her and Cordy turned in the doorway looking back. “Don’t tell her that I’m human. Not until we know what this means. We really don’t know if this is permanent.”

With her hand on the doorframe, Cordelia quietly agreed. No arguments from her. “All right.”

Soon, Angel and Doyle had discovered the identity of the assailant— a Mohra demon, one of a clan of powerful assassins raised to take out the forces of Order. “Hmm! Their ‘veins run with the blood of eternity’,” Doyle quoted. “Guess the regenerative properties made you human.”

Moaning in frustration, Angel pointed out that the text explained what happened to him without explaining the reason for it. Doyle put a halt to his friend’s automatic descent into brood mode. “What difference does it make, man? The demon is dead and you’re alive to enjoy it.”

Constantly suspicious of taking the easy path, Angel spun around to demand of Doyle, “What is going on here?”

“I-I don’t know, Angel,” his seer admitted. “I thought the only way for you to become human was if the Powers-That-Be stepped in to make it happen.”

“What?!” Angel’s surprise equaled Doyle’s unwillingness to say too much. He told Angel that they were both on a need-to-know basis.”

Demanding that Doyle let him speak to the Powers-That-Be, Angel’s look of fury was akin to his dark days as a vampire. The Irish half-demon held up his hands to caution him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! That’s easier said than done. You have to approach them through channels. Dangerous channels.”

Since when had that ever stopped him? “Start approaching.”

Doyle reluctantly agreed. There was only one shot at this and it was not guaranteed that they would let Angel access their realm.

“All right, already. Maybe we can try the Oracles. But hey, if they turn you into a toad— don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
 

Our Champion seeks entry and we grant it. For the Oracles can no more stop the turn of fate than we can easily dissolve the connections linking him to our Seer-to-Be. This human comes with questions— daring even to bring demands to the altar of the Powers. Demands of the heart.
 

Angel fell into the room as if he had been hurtled from a great distance. Two beings stood on white marble steps leading to an arched corridor filled by bright light. He wondered if they truly looked as they appeared to him, these higher beings framed in human form. Their glittery golden skin was darted with traces of blue and their eyes held vast depths of knowledge. A matched pair— a man and a woman, both dressed in equally gilded togas, looked on him with knowing eyes.

The male Oracle addressed Angel. Come before us, lower being.

What have you brought us? With a curious look of interest, the woman awaited his offering. Her counterpart sounded upset at the lack of one— until Angel pulled his watch from his wrist and held it out.

This delighted the female, whose powers whisked the watch into her palm. I like time. There is so little and so much of it.

When Angel did not immediately state his purpose, the male Oracle again appeared to be irritated by his presence. Angel got the feeling he was taking up their valuable time. He asked them about his humanity. Was this permanent? Did the Powers-that-Be interfere?”

Tinkling amusement sounded in the Oracle’s response. Do you hear, brother? This lower being believes the Powers granted him humanity.

Then addressing Angel directly, the woman asked, What have you done? Did you save humanity? Avert the Apocalype?”

“So, this isn’t just poison or magick? I’m going to stay human? What will happen?”

The female was the more communicative of the two. So many questions, lower being. The Auguries say neither poison nor magick has brought about your condition. As for your future as a human— I cannot reveal it.

“What? What good is being an Oracle if you won’t foretell the future?”

Your future lies within you.

“I don’t understand.”

You will. Lower being, I can tell you that you are at a crossroads. Choose wisely, for the End of Days draws near. We must summon another Champion to our cause as your humanity now curtails us.

Suddenly, the white glow of the room enveloped Angel and he was thrust back into the ante-chamber. Doyle was surprised to see him back, for he had only been gone an instant.

“So, what happened in there?”

Angel confirmed that his humanity was permanent. “It’s real. I’m free.”

“I can’t believe this,” Doyle shook his head in wonderment.

“I-I can’t either,” Angel confessed that he did not know what to do next. “I have this whole human existence spread out before me. Doyle, I don’t know where to begin.”

Then Doyle saw a light in Angel’s eyes, a burst of knowledge that clearly told him what he needed to do and where he needed to be.

Buffy Summers strolled up to the railing separating the park from the sandy white beach below. Her blonde hair blew around her face in wild wisps with the wind. “It’s beautiful here,” she sighed deeply.

Then she caught a glimpse of movement from the periphery of her eye— Angel stepping through a hedge formed into a shadowed arch. Gasping at the sight of Angel approaching under the direct sunlight, Buffy was agog.

Angel caught a glimpse of her as he rounded the hedge. Somehow he knew she would be at this place. They had been here before— at night of course. A night off away from Sunnydale, just the two of them. Closer, he caught her surprised look and held her gaze with an intensity that told her exactly why he was here.

Determined strides carried him forward despite the startled audience of one. And then he was pulling her close and into his arms.

“Cordelia,” her name emerged as a deep-throated sound.

Dropping the plastic cup with its flavored icey to the ground, Cordy wrapped her arms around Angel’s shoulders as he bent his head to capture her mouth in a kiss. Her hands moved up to clutch at the back of his head while his moved down the bare curve of her back to settle at her hips. Angel tasted cherries on her breath as his lips greedily moved over hers.

Part 13

 The foretold has come to pass, a first stop on the crossroads of decision. Now weigh in balance the future of the world and pledges of the heart. Can such be intertwined? Is there a mean to their measure? Or must the heart and the hero walk separate paths though they stay side by side? The link between our Champion and his Seer-to-Be grows deeper, but the portents of this variable signal danger to us all as the End of Days draws near.
 

Angel and Cordelia emerged from their kiss, their eyes glued to each other. Gasping for air, the former vampire had forgotten to breathe. Laughter erupted from Cordy’s throat as she realized it. Cupping his face with both hands, she leaned back up with a soft smooch against his face. “What is it about you and beaches?”

Cordelia flashed him her megawatt grin. Here they were within sight of the ocean, kissing again. The wind blew at the long strands of her chestnut hair as she glanced over her shoulder toward the white sandy shore. Angel brushed at the strands tickling at her cheek, “Wanna get wet?”

A mischievous spark indicated there was more to the suggestion than fun in the sun. She slowly came to realize what he was hinting at. Oh God! Oh, no! He couldn’t have heard something. Obviously, he did hear— and was now calling her on it. Those dreams about him! Those scrubbing with bubbles dreams she’d had every night while at his apartment.

With a intake of breath, Cordy pushed at his shoulders thrusting him away. Embarrassed laughter tumbled from her lips as she whirled back to grip the park railing separating it from the beach. Not looking at him, “Angel! I swear I didn’t know that I talked in my sleep. Besides, you shouldn’t spy on people with your vampire hearing.”

“Won’t do it anymore.” Angel gripped the railing with a hand on each side of her coming up close to put his chin on her shoulder.

“Hello, human now!” It was easy to make promises like that when the vampire hearing in question was no longer an issue. “No spying with your human senses either.”

Cordelia snuggled her head against his shoulder and then noticed the scattered remains of her cherry-flavored drink on the ground. Then it hit her that she bought it when she came to the park with Buffy. They had left the Lone Star after Cordy explained the demon that had attacked them was dead. Passing by, Buffy asked if they could stop for a few minutes before going back to Angel Investigations.

Never one to turn down a challenge— and Cordy sensed that was part of the other girl’s request— she agreed to the idea. They walked in the park along the railing overlooking the beach and the ocean beyond just chatting about high school. Some of their escapades together were rather amusing and both laughed at the memory of their rivalry for Homecoming Queen. It seemed rather silly now, especially considering that they lost.

But Buffy hadn’t asked to stop and look at the ocean just for the view or to talk to Cordy about the Class Protector Award the Slayer received at the prom. This talk was all about Angel. Cordy kept her promise— she never said a word about Angel being human. It was almost a thrill to hold that secret, knowing Buffy probably dreamt about that very thing about a million times.

Well blondes weren’t the only ones with dreams. Ex-cheerleading, wanna-be-an-actress secretaries had them too. And if it was her inner bitch that led Cordelia to smile about it, she thought, then— baby, I’m back.

“So—,” Cordelia decided to skip over the pleasantries and go straight for the jugular. “How’s the boyfriend?”

Buffy had whirled around with a fish-mouth gape. “What? How did you know?”

“I have my sources,” purred Cordelia. Even though she knew that Willow would kill her for it later. The redhead let it slip in one of her emails that Buffy was trying to get her life back to normal again and had been making goo-goo eyes at one of the teacher’s assistants at Sunnydale University.

Actually, Cordelia knew nothing. She was just drawing conclusions about the evidence at hand. “I have friends at Sunny U.”

On the defensive, Buffy demanded the truth, “Does Angel know?”

“Completely clueless,” she told her. “Like I would tell my friend something I know might hurt him. Pfft!”

“Your friend?” Buffy was fishing now, emphasizing the word as if doubting Cordelia would know its meaning.

Narrowing her gaze, Cordelia sipped on her cherry drink before answering. “Yeah. My friend. My best friend nowadays besides Doyle. Anyway, Angel is my boss— he pays me to keep him happy.”

“Huh? How— happy?”

Agape, Cordelia couldn’t believe Buffy actually implied that sex might be a perk of the job. “Not happy *that* way, you blond twit!”

Though that was one perk of the job Cordelia had been dreaming about on a night-after-night basis. For good measure and just to throw the Slayer off the scent, Cordy added, “Hello, vampire! Comes with a curse. Slightly used.”

“You bitch! That’s a horrid thing to say.”

With a shrug, Cordelia turned her back to the beach as she leaned against the railing. It came to her that now he was human, Angel’s curse would be no more. No soul loss. No Angelus. Just Angel. What would that be like? Would he still be heart-stopping sexy as a human as he was with that dark current that threaded through him as a vampire? Mmm! God, yes! He certainly looked it. And what a lovable moron! Just the look on his face as he ate his way through their entire office mini-fridge was enough to stop her heart.

“Is there something going on between you two?” Buffy wanted to know even though it would hurt her to the core. She had to have the truth.

“Something? I don’t know,” Cordelia had to say. That day on the beach after Marcus nearly killed him had been something. Definitely something, she thought with a secret smile that drew Buffy’s suspicions. Then Cordelia reminded herself of their mutual pact to ignore any feelings of attraction. “It’s— nothing. Just friends, Buffy. That’s what we are. What we’re gonna be now and tomorrow.”

Buffy felt like asking about the day after that. There was just something in the way that Angel had looked at Cordelia before she left for the movies— or wherever— with that foreign-sounding guy. You know— the sidekick with the visions. The look he sent in Cordelia’s direction was more than just the questioning gaze of a friend— it was personal and intimate. But then, he had turned back to her with the same expression he always had in his eyes, except that it turned to guilt knowing she discovered his fly-by-night trip to Sunnydale.

“So— friends.”

“Yep!” Cordy leaned back, closing her eyes and letting her long hair fly in the breeze. She hoped this conversation was over. “We should be getting back soon.”

The discussion had not really quelled Buffy’s fears nor done anything for Cordelia except prove that the Slayer could still get jealous and possessive about her ex-boyfriend. Buffy was looking out at the ocean staring at the horizon while Cordy now watched the path of fluffy white clouds roll by overhead.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Cordy heard Buffy say.

And then there was Angel.

Cordelia had been so lost in his kiss and the laughter that followed. Gazing down at the red ice spread out on the white sand, she thought of Buffy Summers. The Slayer was no where in sight. Seeing Angel human was shock enough for any ex-girlfriend, but to see him bypass her to sweep Cordelia into his arms— that must have hurt beyond measure. Even Cordy felt a little sorry for the Slayer.

With his lips nuzzling at her neck— no doubt a former-vampire habit— Cordelia leaned into it pressing her back against the hard expanse of his chest. She felt so safe there. Her Dark Avenger might no longer be a vampire, but he had always been her protector and that would never change.

Thoughts of Buffy made Cordy realize something that made the butterflies take flight inside her. “Angel?”

“Yes, baby?”

Turning her head so she could see his face, Cordelia smiled at the word before revealing the source of her confusion. “Me, Angel? You came to me? Want me?”

The touch of his hand along her smooth upper arm conveyed his desire, just a light touch that spread shivers along every circuit inside her. “I want you.”

“Not Buffy? Not the Slayer? Not your star-crossed love of all time?” Cordelia turned so that she faced him. With her back against the railing, their bodies were pressed close and she could not help but notice Angel’s arousal. Still, she wanted a verbal response to her question too.

Sometimes Angel felt like he needed to carry around a tape recorder just to avoid answering the same question over and over again— even to himself. His wandering touch moved to her shoulder, where his thumb made brushstrokes along her collarbone. After a beat, he answered.

“Buffy is my first love. She will always have some corner of my heart, I can’t deny that. She showed me what it was like to open up your heart to someone.” Angel thumb made a rhythm against her skin slipping beneath the edge of her halter top. “Don’t be afraid of that, Cordy. Don’t ever worry about the past, because it’s behind us.”

“Yeah, but it knows where we live,” quipped Cordelia who nibbled on her lower lip. “The past catches up to you, Angel. Just like my parents— they couldn’t escape the tax man any more than I can escape the shattered reputation they left behind.”

Angel felt a twinge of guilt again. He could have prevented her destitution after the IRS claimed everything the Chase family owned. Except he wasn’t there, having left Cordelia and Buffy in Sunnydale, their memories altered. Yes, they left the past behind them— a little too far behind, but this was a chance to start over.

“Buffy won’t come after you,” Angel hoped she wasn’t afraid of that. “Reality may have been a little harsh on her today, but she’s a big girl. Told me so herself. Besides, she has a boyfriend back in Sunnydale.”

“You know?”

“You mean *you* knew?”

She was quick to deny it. “Just suspicious— until today.”

Letting that sink in, Angel found himself surprised that she had not even hinted at the idea. “Doesn’t matter, Cordy. You’ve been in my heart longer than you know.”

Really? Cordelia felt her skin flush under the impact of his accompanying smile. Angel continued, “I’ve been crazy with wanting you— needing to touch you. To make you mine again in the worst way.”

“Again?” Cordelia caught that error even through her haze of pleasure at hearing the words.

“I have you every night in my dreams,” he realized what he’d said, covering his slip with another confession. “But I’ve been trying my best to stay away from you, to be the hands-off boss you needed me to be.”

“Pfft! Who wants that? I like your hands on me.”

Angel grinned at the words. “See— we have a lot in common.”

He was still smiling as Cordelia moved in to kiss him, her hands sweeping up his arms to encircle his neck. Her eyes were still open as she nibbled at his lips softly, watching him watching her take this initiative. Tentatively, she brushed her tongue along his bottom lip and reacted with more intensity when it sent a shudder throughout his body. Closing her eyes, she took his kiss and let her hands explore the sculpted angles of his torso through the barrier of his clothes.

Breaking away from his mouth, Cordelia laid her cheek on his jaw with her warm breath panting on his ear. “Touch me, Angel. Use those hands on me. I want to feel them.”

The fact that they were in a public park standing along a railing in full view of anyone who might walk by seemed a distant concern. It never occurred to Angel who took her plea to heart and let his hands take pleasure in giving hers. He started with her face, just letting his fingers take in the beauty of her features, brushing against her cheekbones, jaw and mouth. Where Angel touched, his lips followed with a whispered kiss.

Not one to be idle despite the mind numbing sensations of Angel’s fingers and mouth on her throat, Cordelia unbuttoned his shirt far enough to get her hands inside.

“Mmm!” Cordy’s head tilted to the side as Angel nuzzled a spot along her throat. Though it was the place her scar had been removed, she made no connection. Her body just jerked with a start as his human teeth nibbled at that place. Gasping, “Angel!”

Oh, yeah. Not a vampire, Angel reminded himself before moving on. The soft scrape of Cordelia’s nails along his sensitive nipples had him reaching behind her for the string tie of her top. Angel pulled against the string freeing the bottom part of the triangle-shaped cloth. It clung to her breasts, remaining in place only because of the other string at her throat.

Cordelia felt his hands on her back untying the string. With shiver, her eyelids flashed open. Angel captured her gaze with his, silently expressing his desire with eyes glazed and dark with lust. One large hand pressed against her back just between her shoulder blades, holding her as he leaned her at a slight angle against the railing. Her breathing came hard as Cordelia felt the other one curve up and over her shoulder moving down to palm her left breast still under the barrier of her top.

He stayed that way for only an instant, letting his fingers trail down across her clothed nipple before slipping his hand onto the exposed skin of her stomach. It seemed that her navel was directly connected to her groin because as his finger ringed her concave belly button, Cordy felt pooling moisture in her panties.

Then Angel bent low, continuing his pattern of following caresses with kisses and let his tongue delve into the slight indentation there. Rolling her eyes closed, Cordelia felt like she was on the brink of something, but surely it couldn’t be— that. Angel was just letting his hands roam free, letting his mouth touch her skin.

Forcing herself to look down, Cordelia’s body flushed at the sight of his dark head at her waist. Grabbing his shirt at his shoulders, she yanked him back up to the level of her mouth. She was feeling a little frantic now, needing to touch him too, but Angel took her hands away from their tangled spot in his hair to curl her fingers along the railing behind her.

Murmuring a protest against his mouth, Cordy soon forgot as the sunbursts returned to her mind’s eye. Angel lifted his hands from hers, hovering just long enough to ensure that they would stay there. He touched his way up from the curve of her hips and tiny waist to the ticklish spot on her ribs that caused her to giggle even though it was smothered by his kiss.

Angel let out a groan as his hands slipped higher, his thumbs tracing the swell of both full breasts. Then his hands curved around them as his eyes hungrily gazed at the hard nipples poking up beneath thin covering of the patterned cloth. They were begging for his mouth.

“Yo! Lovebirds!” A voice behind them caused Angel to drop his hands to his side and whirl around in a defensive stance protecting Cordelia from the stranger’s view.

It was a bicycle cop, already getting off his two-wheeled vehicle. “Getting a little hot and heavy for a public park.”

Cordelia crouched behind Angel, quickly tying the strings of her top in place. Then she peeked out around Angel’s shoulder and since he couldn’t seem to form a sentence gave the cop a guilty grin. “Sorry about that, officer. We were just kissing.”

“Uh, huh.” It was clear that he had seen a little more than that.

Angel finally found his voice. “We’ll go.”

“Look,” the cop pointed out, “normally I’d have to give you a ticket. Luckily, no saw you. Or, if they did, no one complained. I’ll let you off with a warning.”

Cordy flashed him a charming smile, “Thanks.”

“Just— go cool off.”

As the cop got back on his bike and wheeled off down the sidewalk, they turned to each other and burst into laughter. Cordy twirled away from the railing holding a hand to her chest at the force of it. “That was embarrassing,” she snorted.

Catching her hand, Angel suggested, “We should get back to the office.”

“Oh! Doyle will be wondering where you are.”

“He knows I’m with you.”

That caused her voice to soften. “Doyle knows? You told Doyle about— wanting me?”

“Didn’t have to. He figured it out himself.”

“Huh! Sneaky Irish guy. He kept hinting at me, too,” Cordy realized.

“Ready?”

Glancing over his shoulder, Cordelia shook her head. “No. Have to follow the officer’s orders. Gotta cool off first.”

“What do you—,” Angel started to ask only to have Cordy lead him to the path winding down to the beach.

With an impish grin, Cordy told him to take off his shoes and socks. She slipped off her floppy sandals and let her toes curl into the warm sand. Angel followed suit, enjoying the sensation of the sand against his feet. He watched as Cordy knelt down to roll up his pant legs. Then upon rising again, she grabbed his hand and led him down to the water.

They walked and talked with the waves dancing at their feet. They ran like children playing upon the sand, taking joy in the day and their happiness with each other. And watched as the sun set into the horizon, Angel behind Cordelia with his arms surrounding her hugging her to his chest.

Cordelia watched the sunset from the periphery of her vision. Her head was tilted so that her ear pressed against the left side of his chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. It called to something within her, something uniquely human— or something that should be. Her soul. Thought she did not recognize the cause of this link they shared, she could not deny the words that sprang to her lips in trembling realization of the news.

“Angel?”

“Yes, baby?” He kissed her right temple softly.

“I love you.”

Part 14

 The connection between our Champion and his Seer-to-Be grows deeper, but the portents of this variable signal danger to us all as the End of Days draws near.
 

Arriving back at Angel Investigations, they found the offices dark and quiet. Calling out for Doyle brought no response. It seemed that the Irish seer made himself conspicuously absent.

“He’s probably at the bar, again,” Cordy scrunched her nose.

Knowing Doyle, that guess would probably be right, Angel figured. Especially since he and Cordy had spent the rest of the day on their own. It wouldn’t take much imagination for his friend to make the next logical leap. Not that Angel was planning to rush her, but he wanted Cordelia— badly. He thought his vampire urges were difficult to control, but being human merely gave him more emotions that knotted up inside begging for release.

Angel rocked back on his feet, his hands fisted in his pants pockets. “Yeah. Probably.”

“You hungry?”

“Not for food,” he admitted with a twisted quirk of his mouth.

Admonishing himself for saying that aloud, Angel tried to stamp out his flaming arousal. He could imagine Cordy’s thoughts: Geez! He’s been human two seconds and already the guy wants to have sex. What’s with that?

Cordelia walked in a slow circle around him, noting the slight sunburn that reddened the ‘V’ of his chest where his shirt lay open to the light. Leaning on the edge of her desk, she perked at the happy memory of their day in the sun. It felt like heaven in his arms—until that dratted policeman arrived.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Cordelia grinned, the tip of her tongue along the edge of her teeth.

Angel’s brow lifted, “I doubt that.”

“Sure I do.” Cordelia cocked her head, placing a hand on her hip.

“No, you don’t,” he countered.

“Do.”

“Don’t.”

Cordelia issued a challenge, recognizing that he seemed to be hedging. Probably thought he was moving to fast. “Then come over here and show me what I *don’t* know you’re thinking.”

Never let it be said that Angel wasn’t up to that challenge. Unfortunately, his stupid conscience kicked in. He wanted her. Wanted to take her in all the ways he had before. Some of those were impossible now— not a vampire. Most would be a little shocking for what would technically be equated with their first date. “Better not.”

There was a flash of sad confusion in her eyes. “Really?”

Seeing the dimming smile on Cordelia’s face, Angel could not take it. “No. Not really.”

A second later he was at her side lifting her from the desk and pulling her into his strong arms. Cordy thrilled at his strength— even as a human. She squeezed his bulky biceps in response to the darting anticipation along her spine. Then he was kissing her— geez, he really kissed like an angel, she mused. Heavenly!

This wasn’t slow and controlled like in the park. Almost immediately the kiss deepened, tapping into the depths of their emotions. Angel clasped Cordy around the shoulder and hips, now lifting her to press hard against his aroused body. She was equally fervent in her response, grasping at his shoulders.

Her wandering kisses followed his jaw line up to his left ear where she nibbled at the lobe before returning to his demanding mouth. Then Cordy felt herself being placed on top of the desk; Angel was laying her down and sending the files on top crashing to the floor.

“You are so cleaning that up!” Cordelia giggled as she saw the stack of papers scattered on the ground.

Tilting her face back to his, Angel kissed her again. Asking in between, “Do you want this Cordy? Tell me what you want.”

“You.” She had hold of his half-unbuttoned shirt and yanked him back down to her. The remaining buttons popped under the pressure, leaving his chest bare to her angled view. “Oops!”

Angel yanked the shirt off, removing it so that she could look her fill. The lust in her eyes as she stared at his bare skin sparked his all over again. Her palms moved over his flesh worshipping the hard contours of his body. Pulling her close, Angel wanted her legs around him, but the damned long denim skirt she wore prevented it.

“This way,” Angel panted as he pulled her into his arms again lifting and spinning them until they hit the wall near the refrigerator. Her sandals went flying shattering several coffee mugs and knocking over a plant on top of the filing cabinet. Standing her up, he tugged at the belt hugging her hips.

Angel noticed that his hands were trembling with adrenalin as he whipped the belt out of the loops and let it hit the floor. “Your turn,” he paused staring down.

With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, Cordelia grinned. He was standing there all naked chest and powerful shoulders telling her to take her turn. Oh, yeah. She just had to touch him again, marveling at the way he was put together. Impatient, Angel took her wrists moving her hands down to his belted waist.

“No fair!” So just to torture him for ending her fun, Cordy leaned forward and kissed her way across his chest from one side to the other.

Only when his belt joined hers did Angel touch her again, though he nearly went through the roof when she licked at him with her tongue. “You’ll get your turn again in a minute,” he promised hoping for more of the same.

In three quick movement, Angel unbuttoned her skirt, unzipped it and let if fall to her ankles. She stepped out of the skirt, kicking in away with one still sand-covered foot. It fell unnoticed in the direction of Angel’s inner office.

“Silk panties and denim?” Angel’s hands came down to her hips, his thumbs running across the edge of the turquoise bikini underwear. A rumble sounded in his throat, something akin to a human growl before he cupped the small globes of her buttock dragging her against the hardness of his erection.

Cordelia felt the size of him against her, letting out a gasp mixed with innocent surprise and wanton need. His name poured from her throat. “Angel.”

Lifting her, Angel pressed his clothed hips and aroused flesh into the center spot between her slender thighs. Slender, but toned with the exercise from years of cheerleading. “Yes, baby, that’s it. Wrap your legs around me tight and hold on.”

Clinging to him, Cordelia swallowed her surprise when he started to move away from the wall. He was carrying her, trying to hazard a path while still kissing her senseless. They made it as far as the door to the stairs before stopping. She was squirming in his arms, unable to touch as much as she wanted to touch.

“My turn again.” She unbuttoned the top button of his pants, but stalled at shifting down the zipper. Darting a hesitant look at his face, Cordy decided to skip that part for now and moved on to the safer task of removing his shoes and socks.

Angel let out a groan of complaint as a river of sand flooded onto the floor leaving Cordy giggling at him. Still kneeling at his feel, she held onto his pant-covered calves while she came to eye level with the large tent beneath his zipper. Watching her lustfully, Angel remembered the days when his mate would take him in her hands and mouth trying the impossible task of sucking him down and swallowing him whole.

It was obvious that her thoughts had wandered in that direction, though her look was more startled and even a little scared. Holding out one of his hands to help her to her feet, Angel told her, “Not today, Cordelia. Come up here. My mouth misses you.”

Flinging herself into his arms, she rubbed her aching breasts against his chest as Angel made her head spin. Breaking apart for an instant, she muttered a question, “Stairs?”

“No,” Angel decided as he ran a hand through the long strands of her wind-tossed hair. Cupping her chin, he slowly pressed smooching kisses against her lips as he led them backwards. “Stairs are too dangerous.”

“Uh— yeah.” Cordy had no idea what he meant and didn’t care as one hand cupped her bottom beneath the barrier of silk.

Angel muttered between kisses. “Might fall.”

He reached out along the wall with his free hand, blindly seeking and eventually finding the button for the elevator. Cordelia’s hands were on his waist, creeping lower along his thighs so her fingernails curled and raked along the surface of his pants. He wanted her touch on his skin.

The elevator doors opened. Angel took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her inside. Then Cordy watched as he took hold of the waistband of his pants, unzipped them and shoved them to the floor. Her breath came a little faster seeing the obvious bulge in his dark boxers and the flex of his powerful thighs as he stepped toward her.

Then a hysterical laugh came as he tripped on one leg of the pants, falling to the floor of the elevator. Cordy poked the elevator button before bending down to her fallen hero. The outer doors shut, grabbing onto the pants ripping them from Angel’s foot. Now Cordelia was giggling uncontrollably at the sight.

By the time the elevator started down, he pulled her back into his arms. Moans of pleasure soon replaced the laughter. With a jerk, the elevator stopped. They were still on the floor, kissing and groping at the exposed areas of each other’s flesh. “We’re here,” Cordy noted with a gasp.

Angel was determined not to take her on the floor of the elevator, but it felt so good to have her in this supine position. Eyes glinting, he had an idea. When the outer doors opened again, he kept her close and rolled them out the door making certain that it was his back against the uncomfortable elevator gap rather than hers.

Landing on top of him, Cordy shifted herself into a comfortable position. His hardness pressed prominently through the thin barrier of his boxers. That part felt really, really good, but there was something not right. Something else she needed. As her chest moved against his, Cordy realized what it was.

“Take off my top?” She leaned down with her head resting on his shoulder to give him better access to the ties.

Not bothering to answer, Angel moved his hands up from her ass to pull at the ties of her halter top, first at her back. After sweeping aside her hair, he undid the one at her neck. Lifting herself just a fraction, Cordy tugged the annoying cloth barrier away and threw it as far as it could go. It landed somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen floor.

‘Ah!” She let out a sigh of pleasure as the flesh of her full, sensitive breasts compressed against Angel’s skin. “Better.”

“Much better,” Angel was muttering again as he flipped them over so that Cordelia was beneath him.

Though he loved every part of her, Angel admittedly admired her breasts. Oh, the many ways he had loved them- his errant thoughts roused his excitement even higher. Kissing his way down Cordelia’s chest, he lay on his side on the hard surface of the floor, freeing up one hand to touch what he wanted.

“Gonna touch you,” Angel gave warning while Cordy was silently urging him on. Then not so silently.

Trembling in pleasure at the feel of his fingers on her sensitized flesh, Cordy simply lay back on the floor soaking it all in. At first, it was just those naughty, wandering fingers. Then they curled around her left breast cupping her, gently feeling the weight of it against his palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he looked up into her eyes trying to contain the urge encircle those feminine assets around his hard male flesh. “Always.”

Reaching up, she ran her hand through his hair. “You’re such a guy. Loves boobs.”

“Especially yours.” At her grin, Angel kissed her again. When they were both breathless again, he lifted his head up to suggest they get off the cold floor. “Bed?”

Cordelia held up her arms, waiting for him to help her up. He did more than that. Angel swept her up into his arms, carrying her across the threshold of his bedroom. Setting her down on her feet, he leaned over to grab the covers and thrust them to the bottom of the bed.

Before dropping her down on the bed like he wanted too, Angel saw the expression on her face as he yanked away the covers with an almost vicious pull. Again, there was a hesitancy he detected that he did not understand. Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind, he begged silently.

“Cordy?”

Realizing that Angel had sensed her sudden confusion, Cordelia was grateful for the opening. Her heart was beating like a drum in her ears and her body tingled everywhere. All in wont of need for him. But he didn’t know the truth, she realized. He needed to know before this went too far. Before they were in the bed and all over each other and in too deep.

“Angel,” she licked at her suddenly dry lips. “I-I have to say something.”

Oh, god! Please, please, please. No, no, no. Don’t say no, Cordy. Not now. He really did not want to hear this. Angel gave a little shaky breath as he responded contrarily to his own thoughts, “Okay.”

Reaching down, Cordelia stared at his hand taking it in her own to play with his fingers. “I-I’ve never done this before. Been with a man, I mean.”

“What!” He blurted it out realizing with stunning accuracy that Cordelia Chase thought she was still a virgin.

After the initial shock dissipated, Angel knew that she had no reason to think otherwise. He— Angelus— had taken her virginity that night in front of Xander’s house on the hood of her car. The memory spell had washed that away. Fortunately, he did not have to say anything to explain his surprise at her words.

Cordelia figured her reputation preceded her. “It’s the cheerleader thing. A girl shakes her pom-poms and everyone immediately believes that she sleeps with the entire football team.”

“But you didn’t— obviously,” Angel was irritated that she would believe he thought that way, but he couldn’t say anything to counter it without providing an explanation he was not prepared to give.

“Dated them,” Cordy gave a shrug. “Didn’t get much past the kissing part— except with Xander of course.”

Angel forgot for a moment that he knew Xander hadn’t gotten much farther and the fact that Cordy still thought herself a sexual innocent. He let out a jealous grumble. “I don’t want to hear about Xander Harris right now!”

The mention of the name actually helped cool his ardor so that his erection wasn’t quite so painful. Closing his eyes for a moment, Angel opened them to ask, “Do you want this to go on, Cordelia? I can stop— if I have to. We can take things a little slower.”

“Why would I want to do that, dumbass?” Cordy stood there with her hands on her hips, clothed only in the scrap of turquoise still covering her groin.

“Huh?”

Crawling onto the bed, giving him a delightful view of her bottom, Cordy glanced back over her shoulder. “Just thought you deserved to know, that’s all.”

He felt her glowing, almost impish smile right down to his soul. The spell that bathed her mind in a cloak of innocence shined from her inner being. Angel knew then that he had to make this moment special for her. This time, it would be different. Then, it was all about dominance and submission. Then, it was Angelus in the dark, in the night, on the hood of that car— claiming her. That was fucking— wanting, taking, having. This needed to be different. He wanted it to be different. He wanted it to be love-making— loving, giving, sharing.

In a way, Angel thought of the irony, it was his first time too. First night as a human again. First time in her bed again. First time knowing that she loved him without the tie of their blood-bond between them.

“Come here, Angel,” came Cordelia’s soft plea after he seemed to be frozen in place by indecision. Crooking her index finger at him, she waggled it until his mouth curled into a smile. “You’re so far away. I’m lonely.”

“Better?” He asked after doing a flying leap, now lying on his side next to her.

Gazing down at his outstretched body, Cordy decided there was only one way to get over this nervous feeling centering in her tummy. “Almost. Can I ask you something?”

Nodding, Angel traced a finger along her arm from shoulder to elbow. He just couldn’t be this close and not touch her skin.

“Anything?”

“Uh— of course.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Didn’t sound very certain.”

“I am.”

Rolling onto his back, Angel pulled her onto him straddling her legs over his hips, fitting her on top of him. Angel let out a low groan of pleasure at the downward pressure of her body against his. Letting out a little shudder, Cordelia also felt the need to move things along.

As Angel’s hands slipped from her hips to curl toward her breasts, Cordelia grabbed his wrists, stopping his upward progress. “Not so fast, Angel. I haven’t made my request.”

“Request?” Angel’s gaze moved up to her face. Anything. Whatever she wanted. “Tell me what you want, Cordy. It’s yours. I’m still getting used to this human body, but I’ll try my best to make it do anything you need.”

“So you’re a virgin, too— huh!” Cordy picked up on his own earlier line of thinking. “I like that idea.”

Moving his arms to the side of his head, she leaned down to kiss his mouth. “I want to touch you. Can I touch you, Angel? Without you stopping me?”

Already dark eyes sparked with his arousal. The thought of ‘virginal’ Cordy wanting to explore his body nearly made him cum at the idea alone. The actuality might be a little more difficult to pull off.

“Whatever you want, baby. Take it,” he said. “Just don’t be surprised if I stop you sooner than you’d like.”

Excitement made her face glow and her eyes sparkle in a way he hadn’t seen in months. God, he wanted her now. “Gotta move up on the bed a little, Cordy. I think I’m gonna need something to hold onto if you don’t want me to touch what I’m looking at.”

She bit her lip as she glanced toward the wrought-iron bars of the bed. They were shaped into a beautiful design, but also provided well-placed hand grips. She hadn’t noticed that when she slept here those nights when Angel was exiled to the couch in the living room.

Cordelia shifted off of Angel, allowing him to move up. “Turn onto your stomach.”

Might as well start with the easy part, she grinned to herself. Angel complied with her request, a fact that sent a little thrill along her spine. He stretched out, bending his arms at the elbows. No iron bars needed for the moment since he trapped his folded hands below his head as they rested on the pillow.

Once he settled, Cordelia pressed a soft kiss against his face. Whispering in his ear, she told him, “Now I get to have my wicked way with you. Bet you didn’t know I had a wicked way!”

Oh, baby. If you only knew, he thought smilingly.

Angel couldn’t see her from this angle, so he closed his eyes feeling the soft explorative touch of her hands on his shoulders and back. But it wasn’t just the press of her hands and mouth that started to drive him wild. Every time Cordy bent over him or leaned across his frame her pointed nipples or silky hair would graze his flesh.

By the time Cordy reached the edge of his black boxers, Angel was slowly grinding his erection into the bed. She paused, noting this movement with interest. Then her fingers curled into the edge of his boxers, “Lift up a little.”

The soft fabric stretched across his cock as Cordelia pulled it down over his hips, causing Angel to let out a strangled groan. “Cordy!”

“No turning around,” she instructed while tossing his underwear to the floor. “I’m not finished.”

“Well *I’m* gonna be finished— real soon if you’re not careful,” Angel warned, loving that she wanted to touch him. Next time he vowed to let her play first, when he hadn’t already been waiting so long.

Then suddenly there was a spread of silence in the room. Cordy neither touched him with her hands nor spoke. After a long pause, she let out a long sigh. “Mmm! Angel buns. My favorite.”

Angel burst out laughing, his amusement at the realization she had been staring at his bare ass *almost* distracted him from his own needs. Then she put her hand there and he thought of nothing else.

“Tempting, Angel,” she tittered.

There was a dark tone to his voice as he cautioned her, “Don’t start something you don’t know how to finish.”

“Well that sounds creepy,” Cordy admitted moving her hand down to the hard muscle of his thigh. “You can tell me more later.”

“Much later.”

“Turn over, broody boy.” Before she finished the sentence, Angel was on his back. As promised he held onto the bars, making every effort to let her finish this little game of Doctor.

The swift move left his rigid penis bobbing heavily against his abdomen leaving Cordelia suddenly agape as her hazel eyes darted in that direction. Omigod! How was *that* thing supposed to fit? Big. Huge. All hers. The thought made her curiosity override her sudden fear.

Cordelia glanced up at Angel who now looked like he was having difficulty keeping his hands away from her. If there was a question in her gaze, he answered it with an appeal that left her breathless.

“Touch me, Cordelia. Wrap your hand around it.” Angel urged her. “It’s just me. Nothing to fear.”

The hand on his thigh moved to rest on his hip as Cordy contemplated her next move. She kept staring, still boggled that somehow— before the end of the night— they would lock their bodies together like puzzle pieces. He was uncircumcised, she thought, then realized that the procedure probably wasn’t around when he first became a vampire.

The glistening tip peeked out from that flap of skin already weeping threads of sticky fluid onto his stomach. Cordy’s gaze traveled down the rigid bar of human flesh covered by distended veins and further still to the nest of hair surrounding its base and the large pouch below.

“Cordy!” Angel’s call was not so much about letting her learn the feel of him to get over her fear as it was to sate some of his lust.

The impish grin suddenly returned. Cordy followed his instructions, but less than an minute passed before Angel took his hands away from the bars of the bed to pull her beneath him. “Did I do something wrong?”

“God, no! Just something too right.” Then he plundered her mouth with a kiss of such fervency that they both saw stars.

Catching his breath, Angel tried for her sake to slow down again. He didn’t know how much longer he could make this last. He wanted to be inside her when he came, not putzing around like a schoolboy. So what if he didn’t have vampire stamina— he had enough experience at lovemaking to control his appetites.

It was just that Cordelia was driving him wild.

“Now it’s *my* turn to play,” Angel made clear, “but I won’t be so mean, my sweet Cordelia. You can touch me anywhere you can reach.”

She was drowning in his kiss again when the wandering hands returned like they’d been on an extended vacation— touching everywhere. Then his mouth was on her right breast with whispered kisses, soft smooches and flat licks of his rasping tongue. That had Cordy nearly shrieking.

“Angel! Oh, yeah. No! That’s enough.”

“Not yet.” He moved to the other breast and gave it equal attention.

Writhing at the pleasure he evoked, Cordy was clasping at his head and shoulders. “Uh— yeah. Do that thing again with your tongue.”

As he was at her navel, Angel knew what she meant and complied by flicking his tongue across the concave indenture there. So close now, he could scent her arousal. With his human senses Cordy’s scent was tangier than he remembered, but he couldn’t remember ever wanting her more.

He tugged her turquoise panties off, tossing them over his shoulder where they landed on the threshold of the open door. Cordelia’s glazed expression asked for what she would not voice as Angel spread her thighs, settling himself between them on eye level with the moist center of her womanhood.

Angel grazed his hands along one thigh, finding it trembling under the force of her need. He blew air across her petaled flesh, causing her to jerk in startled pleasure. Then Angel’s fingers moved intimately with his expert touch, brushing against her and inside her in ways that made it impossible for her to think.

When his mouth joined his fingers in pleasuring her, Cordelia immediately plummeted over a high cliff of building ecstasy as she came crashing down in orgasm. Calling out his name again and again, Cordy begged for him to take her. And though Angel moved up her body, settling his erection at her opening, he waited until Cordelia settled enough to look into his eyes.

He kissed her softly and Cordy realized with a strange not-eew-in-any-way thrill that she tasted herself on Angel’s lips.

Cordelia clasped onto his strong shoulders, waiting anxiously for him to move, to enter her body, to make her his.

“I’m yours,” she whispered against his mouth promising fidelity in a way that somehow echoed the claiming in their past.

Not to be outdone, Angel answered as he penetrated her core, “And I am yours. I love you, Cordelia.”

A gasp of pleasure sounded in his ear and Angel wasn’t certain whether the sensations of his entry, his words or a combination thereof came as the cause. Cordelia knew only bliss as Angel brought her back to that high place again. Her legs wrapped around him to hold him close as he thrust and retreated time and again.

And when they both crashed down together, it felt like coming home.

Neither was surprised to find a stray tear in each other’s eyes when their senses returned. So poignant was the moment, they said nothing, merely eating each other up with their eyes. Timeless minutes passed until Cordelia repeated the words he whispered in her ear adding on his name. “I love you, Angel.”

“Love you too, baby.”

She blushed, grinning at the pet name again. What was it about that word that made it seem like he had called her that forever?

“Angel— I’m hungry.”

He seemed surprised. “So soon?”

“Not that, dumbass!” Cordy whacked his arm. “Food. Sustenance. We didn’t have dinner, remember?”

Angel swept the sheets around her while he streaked naked to the refrigerator. Grabbing several items, he darted back to bed. After their attack of the munchies was over, Angel and Cordy talked into the night until she finally fell asleep in his arms.

Unable to sleep, Angel watched her sleep in dreamless contentment. Starting to settle down from the blissful high of these past hours in her presence, he was jolted back to a state of wakefulness at the sound of Doyle’s voice and hurried footsteps on the stairs. Easing himself away from Cordelia’s sleeping form, Angel grabbed for a robe and went to find out what the commotion was about.

Doyle wouldn’t barge in like this unless there was a reason— unless he was drunk again. “Angel! I had another vision. That Mohra demon has regenerated itself.”

“A vision? You’re still *my* seer?” Angel was confused. “The Oracles said something about replacing me. That my humanity did not suit their needs.”

“Looks like they’re not done with you yet.”

Planning for action, Angel told his seer, “Let me grab my clothes.”

Suddenly, Doyle snorted with laughter. “That may take you a while, man. They’re all over the office *and* downstairs. I thought for a moment that Demolition Spike returned to look for the ring again.”

Then Doyle glanced beyond Angel’s shoulder seeing the head and shoulders of Cordelia Chase against the dark background of the bed covers. A twinge of envy hit him, but then he remembered his own theory about the champion always getting the girl. Now knowing their true history, Doyle figured that Angel had Cordelia all along. And though she did not know it, Cordelia had him as well.

“Are you gonna wake her?” Doyle asked thinking Cordy would want to know where her mate was going right before a big fight.

“Let her sleep,” Angel shook his head. Moving back to her, he pressed a kiss on her forehead before heading back out the bedroom door. “I wouldn't wake her for the world. Write a quick note while I get dressed- just in case she wakes up. Otherwise, I’ll tell her everything in the morning.”
 

The crystal remains the linchpin to this variable. The crossroads now lie directly before our Champion. And so he will come again to our demesne full of questions, searching for answers. We, the Oracles, possess the power to alter time, to turn back the clock for the space of a day. Choices made may be undone or remain unchanged. Our Champion must decide whether to face this alternative, an act which will forever bind him to his destiny.

Part 15

 The crystal remains the linchpin to this variable. The crossroads now lie directly before our Champion. And so he will come again to our demesne full of questions, searching for answers. We, the Oracles, possess the power to alter time, to turn back the clock for the space of a day. Choices made may be undone or remain unchanged. Our Champion must decide whether to face this alternative, an act which will forever bind him to his destiny.
 

Doyle grabbed the demonology book prior to leaving the offices, still trying to ignore the scraps of clothing belonging to Angel and Cordelia that were spread hither and yon. And how had they managed to get Angel’s pants stuck in the elevator doors that way? On their way to the sight of Doyle’s vision, he had to give his friend a warning.

“This isn’t you average demon we’re fighting here. It nearly licked you before and now you’re mortal.”

Angel acknowledged the words, but had to say, “I can’t change who I am on the inside, Doyle, even if I’m no longer a vampire. No matter what the Oracles say. The Mohra started this fight with me— I’m gonna finish it.”

“As long as it doesn’t finish you, man.” Doyle had a bad feeling about this. Even his vision suggested that there was more danger here than the usual.

“Just tell me how to kill it.”

Opening the book, Doyle read. “It ‘generates until the dark future it envisions is upon us’. Oh— this entry is important. ‘To kill the beast one must bring darkness to a thousand eyes.’”

“I’m going to kill that thing,” Angel promised both Doyle and himself despite the cryptic instructions.

“Just remember that it’s brutal, deadly and—,” Doyle jumped in surprise as his cell phone went off in his back pocket. “Yah! Uh—oh. Look, Angel, wait up a minute. I’ve gotta get this.”

Angel couldn’t wait. The Mohra demon was already there.

Not noticing as he moved into the shadows, Doyle answered his cell phone. “Cordelia?”

“I can’t believe that you let me sleep!” Cordy complained. “Angel is human now, not a demon punching bag.”

Seeing that his friend was now engaged in a fight, Doyle attempted to hurry her off of the phone. “Uh— Cordy. I’ve got to go.”

“Bring him back to me, Doyle.”

Cordelia had an extremely yucky feeling about this, but couldn’t say why. She got out of bed pulling the dark sheet around her body and was about to head to the bathroom for a shower when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

“Buffy!” It was the middle of the night. What was Buffy Summers doing here at Angel’s apartment? “How’d you find me?”

Cordelia pulled the sheet a little closer, suddenly getting worried that the look on the Slayer’s face meant she was gonna get her ass kicked for stealing Angel.

“Finding was easy,” Buffy answered with a pouting lower lip and a dangerous look in her eye. “I just followed the trail of discarded clothes, but I wasn’t looking for you.”

“Oh.” That impish grin crept back to her face.

“Where is Angel?” Buffy asked her.

“Out.”

Buffy knew a moment of weirdness as she recalled the time that Angel made love to her— and left their bed in the night. The next time she saw him, he was a soulless demon bent on murdering everyone she loved.

“My eyes weren’t playing tricks today,” she began with a question, “Angel was really human? He was walking in the sun.”

“Yeah. That demon’s blood regenerated him.” Cordelia explained and was about to point out that this would be a good time to do a little slaying when Buffy looked at her sadly.

“When Angel came to the park, I thought it was to see me. I never dreamt that he would go straight to you.”

“But you thought—,” Cordelia started to remind her about her suspicion. It was the reason Buffy had asked to stop in the park in the first place. As an interrogation studio, the park was a relaxing spot.

“—that there was something going on between you two.” Buffy reminded Cordy. “You lied to me, Cordy. Why didn’t you just say it. You’re usually brutal with your honesty.”

Cordelia did like to tell it like it is, but, “I-I didn’t know what he was going to do— until I saw him.”

“Well, it hurt seeing you like that,” Buffy stated. “I wanted to kill you both and I’m not really exaggerating that statement. I was just waiting for you to come up for air to lay into you— but you didn’t. It was like this gross movie thing where everything goes in slow motion.”

“So you left,” Cordelia knew Buffy had been gone long enough to be out of sight when they emerged from their kiss.

“I left.”

Before Buffy could give her anymore details, Cordelia broke in trying to express her worries about Angel. “He’s gone with Doyle to fight that demon. That’s like taking a toddler to a bar fight— they’re both gonna die if you don’t do something about it.”

Slayer instincts taking over, Buffy let her jealous tirade slip away. “Where are they?”

Cordelia gave her the note. “Hurry! I think it’s already there.”

Finding the location, Buffy tracked them until she saw Doyle standing helplessly at the bottom of a salt silo. She asked him, “— Angel?”

Pointing to the silo, Doyle told her, “In there.”

Angel was on the ground looking beaten and bloody when the Slayer dropped into the open space from the roof. The demon was standing over Angel; its booted foot on the back of his neck. “The End of Days has begun and can’t be stopped. For any one of us that falls, ten shall rise.”

“Get away from my— from Angel.” Buffy commanded.

“A great darkness is coming,” the Mohra warned the Slayer.

“You got that right.”

Engaging the demon in battle, Buffy maneuvered him away from Angel. She grabbed at his sword which had fallen to the ground out of his reach. The Mohra swung his weapon, a medieval Morgenstern, wrapping its chain links around the Slayer’s sword yanking it from her hand.

Before it could attack again, Buffy kicked it against the wall. Their battle raged as Angel was forced to look on helplessly, a victim of his own humanity in this fight. Something had to be broken, but he couldn’t tell. Everything hurt. Doyle’s reading of the book and how to kill this creature suddenly came to full clarity in his mind as he got a chance to really look at the creature.

Suddenly, Angel knew how to kill it, calling out instructions to Buffy who managed to wrest the demon’s own weapon away. Swinging it and waiting for just the right moment, she broke the faceted red jewel imbedded in the Mohra’s forehead. A cry sounded on its lips as a red glow consumed the demon from within.

Dropping the Morgenstern to the ground, Buffy immediately ran over to Angel taking his head into her lap. Angel was simply concerned about her despite his own injuries.

“Buffy are you okay?”

“Shh! I’m fine. You’re all right. That’s what matters— you’re all right.”

But Angel couldn’t be silent. “How did you get here?”

“Cordelia.”

“You stopped at my apartment?” That wasn’t likely to be a good thing.

It surprised him that she returned. Buffy explained, “I was in the neighborhood— slaying of course.”

Huh. It had to be four or five in the morning. Even with the hours she normally kept, that was a little late. “Slaying. Yeah. Is Cor— Did you—?”

“We talked for a minute until she told me you were in trouble.” Buffy found that running her hand through his hair gave her a little comfort.

Angel struggled to sit up, gritting his teeth through the pain of it. Looking at Buffy, he gave her a weak smile and touched his hand to the curve of her face. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“It’s a nice for a change,” Buffy’s eyes crinkled as she smiled back at him.

“About what happened at the park today—,” he started to say only to be interrupted by her as she held a hand out to stop his explanation.

Buffy let out a deep breath before telling him. “Don’t say it. I-I already know that you love her. I can see it in your face when you look at me.”

She could see that?

“Angel, I should have waited to talk to you back in Santa Monica. That’s why I came back— to tell you that I hate it, but I understand life goes on.”

Then something else that had been hazy in Angel’s mind shifted into clarity. “No, Buffy, it doesn’t. Life doesn’t go on. Or, it won’t if the Mohra’s prophesy comes true.”

“He said something about the End of Days,” Buffy remembered. “I could get Giles to do some research. I’m going back to Sunnydale in the morning, but we could get him started tonight.”

“No,” Angel told her now on his feet. “There are some people with a little more pull than that who have the answers I need. Doyle can drop you off at your father’s house.”

“I’m not coming with you?”

“No. This is something I have to do on my own.”

Why are you here, lower being?

The male Oracle approached Angel with accusation in his voice, obviously not pleased to see him back. “The Mohra demon claimed that the End of Days was coming, something you two also mentioned. So he is telling the truth?”

As far as such things can be told.

“I need to know what happens. What about Cordelia, Doyle and Buffy? What will happen to them when these soldiers come?”

What happens to all mortal beings. Albeit sooner in some cases than others. You do not ask of your own mortal fate? The female Oracle asked with apparent curiosity.

“They’ll die?” A knot twisted in the pit of his stomach. He pleaded for their prophesy to be different. “I’m not here to beg for my life— just theirs.”

Selflessness— one sign of a champion. How unfortunate that you cannot remain in the service of the Powers. The loss is acute to the cause we serve.

“What about them?”

It is not our place to grant life or death.

Angel struggled with his decision, knowing what it would cost him— his humanity and all that that brought with it for Cordelia.

If Buffy hadn’t come along when she did, he would be a dead man anyway. How many more times would his mortality stop him from keeping those he loved safe? “If you can’t directly prevent their deaths— save their lives, I ask you to take back mine. Take away my humanity. You said it yourself— I can’t be the champion you need this way, not as a man.”

This request is not about the Powers’ needs, the male Oracle knew too well. It is a matter of the heart.

The female questioned him. You are asking to be what you were, a demon with a soul, because of a mortal woman? Cordelia, she is called.

Angel felt like laughing as he realized the powerful being cut through to the heart of it. She said nothing about Doyle or Buffy. Just knew where his thoughts were centered.
“Yes,” He answered.

Would you give up this life? Turn back the clock for a day? What is done cannot be undone, but what is not yet done can be avoided.

Angel realized what the female meant. Not only would he lose his humanity, but recent events would be wiped away making it as if they never happened. Cordelia would never know what love and passion they shared during the past day. The thought brought a laugh to his throat, one of irony and pain. Wipe away Cordelia’s memory of him? It would be nothing he had not done before.

“What will happen?” He had asked the question before. “What if I remain human?”

The female Oracle stepped around Angel, the folds of her long gilded toga flowing at her feet. Now at the crossroads, you may hear the answer to that question. Know that love and happiness will be yours. Know that all you love will die. Know that she who is your heart will be among the first to fall. Know the light of the world will be extinguished.

Now the Oracle’s brother spoke, moving in the opposite direction. Our search for another champion will herald nothing, for it is prophesized that only the Vampire with a Soul might successfully stave off the rise of Chaos.

As if there was not an already heavy burden on his broad shoulders— they had to tell him that? So what was the alternative? They mentioned turning back the clock.

Again, the female answered first. Our champion will be restored, leading the forces of Order against those who would vie in opposition. Know that love takes a winding road. Know that all you love will live then die. Know that she who is your heart will become a warrior to our cause. Know that the light of the world will go on.

The selfish, greedy side of Angel wanted to tell the Oracles to shove it up their shiny asses, but he knew that he could not do that. If he stayed human, Cordelia would die.

Making his decision, Angel told them, “If you want a champion, I will let it happen— on one condition.”

The Oracles paused, their knowing looks signaling communication through methods that could not be known. The Powers agree to this demand, human. For the outcome of the apocalypse to end it all hangs in the balance. State your demand.
 

Lifting her hand in the air, Cordelia Chase slapped it back down on her hip. “So what’s the real deal?”

Angel blinked in surprise, realizing that he had been transported back to the previous day. What was the question again? Oh, yeah. Something about Buffy and the fact that he had simply tracked her around Sunnydale rather than cozying up to her like Cordy seemed to be suggesting.

“That was it. I avoided her,” Angel admitted.

“Really?”

Angel nodded, but he had to be honest. “Buffy will always be a part of me and that will never change.”

“But she’s human,” Doyle brought up Angel’s old argument about Cordelia and turned it on him, just to bring up a point. “You’re not.”

Frowning, Angel looked down for an instant, feeling his chest. Then he caught Cordelia’s gaze, wishing that he could say otherwise. “No, I’m not human— and that’s never going to change. We’ve already said our goodbyes, no need to stir any of this up.”

Cordelia really, really didn’t want to bring this up, but she was trying hard to be Angel’s friend. “You don’t want to ‘stir’, but if *my* ex came to town and was all stalking me in the shadows and then left and then didn’t even say ‘hello’ I’d be—”

From the open door, Buffy Summers finished, “A little upset. Wouldn’t you?”

Angel’s ears had already detected her approach. Now the Slayer was standing in his office. He gave her a nod of hello. “Buffy.”

Like him, Buffy was dressed completely in black, looking like his matched pair. Her blonde hair was long, light and shining against the soft, sun-kissed curve of her cheeks. God, she was so beautiful, he still had to admit it. Such facts could not be denied.

Beautiful and quiet in her anger, he realized. Angel supposed she had a right to that anger, finding out the truth of his Thanksgiving Day stalk-a-thon. Even more right if she had an idea what really happened in what would be the day that time forgot.

“Buffy!” Gasping in shock, Cordelia couldn’t believe that she was seeing this. Though Cordelia never really liked the blonde, she never hated her either. “Buffy, you’re here in town. What brings you to—?”

Cutting her off, Buffy wasn’t talking to Cordelia when she gave her answer, but to Angel. “I came to see my father. Thought I’d stop by.”

Angel’s gaze darted over to Cordy and Doyle as he wondered what they were thinking of all this. His mate was looking— either jealous or angry. He couldn’t tell, but figured on anger knowing that she would be ditching him to go out with Doyle any minute.

Giving Doyle a pointed stare, Angel felt a flash of jealousy. Cordy did not know the seer was half-demon. She thought he was human. Thought he was just her pal. Angel knew the truth. Knew about his demon blood and that the Irishman held out hopes she would fall for him.

“Uh—,” Doyle took Angel’s stare as a sign to get the hell out of here and leave him with his woman. Looked like Cordy was right about the whole blonde thing. Moving closer to the door, he held out his hand. “Cordelia, why don’t we take in a movie? Say— the director’s cut of the Titanic? I think Buffy and Angel have some issues to resolve.”

Looking back and forth between them, Cordelia suddenly found Angel looking intently in her direction. Trapped by silence, his eyes spoke in broody volumes. The vampire kept looking deep, so deep he seemed to be staring into her soul and carried with it all the love and sorrow within him. Angel said nothing, trying to force himself to let her walk away.

Blinking, Cordelia realized there were tears in her eyes. What was that? She was no Cry Buffy! Feeling strangely angry by the sudden arrival of the Slayer just when she started to think Angel might have used his visit to say his goodbyes, Cordy realized that this thing between Buffy and Angel might *never* be over.

Unless—

“Doyle is right.” Cordelia stared at Angel accusingly then turned to face Buffy with all the inner strength and determination she could muster. “You have issues. I’m resolving them.”

Behind her, Angel’s spine straightened as he leaned on the desk. Confused at the change of behavior, he remembered that Cordy wasn’t supposed to stay in the room. Like the last time, she was supposed to leave with Doyle. Angel thought he could use the opportunity to gently break it to Buffy that they would never be together as they had been in the past. Not in reality or in the shadow of her false memory.

What had Angel done to cause his mate to speak with that possessive tone to her voice? Perhaps it was instinct, he mused, listening in as Cordelia and Buffy faced off.

“Mind your own business, Cor.” The Slayer looked imposing despite her small stature.

Cordelia was standing directly in front of Angel as if shielding him from a fate worse than death.

“Angel *is* my business— Buff.” Her hands were on her hips again taking a challenging stance. “He-I— we’re friends.”

“Friends.” The inflection suggested that Buffy thought it had to be more. A glance at Angel found him staring down at the exposed skin of Cordelia’s back wandering down in the vicinity of her denim-covered bottom.

Oblivious to what her vampire boss was doing behind her, Cordy launched into a tirade that soon had Buffy’s head spinning.

“So what! You have the star-crossed love of all time,” Cordelia began with an eye-roll. “Pfft! Get over it. That’s why they call it star-crossed. You see the stars, cross each other off your list and get on with your life.”

Buffy’s face turned red with anger as she responded. “You have *no* idea what you are talking about. YOUR idea of love is taking on the football team and holing up in closets with Xander!”

With a gasp, Cordy glared back.

As Doyle heard the little blonde’s taunt, his dark head darted over to Angel. He expected the vampire to put a stop to this. The way Angel normally stared down every interested guy that looked Cordy’s way at the bars or clubs Doyle dragged them to while defending her against any minor offense, made the seer expect that same protective response.

It didn’t come. Angel continued to sit on the edge of his mahogany desk, except now his arms were crossed over his chest making him appear impervious to the verbal battle before him.

“We’re not talking about me, Buffy. This is about you and Angel. Hello, curse! You can’t just stop by expecting a little fun and games every time you decide to take a vacation.”

“I-I— that’s not why I’m here.”

Cordelia knew better. She had watched the vampire from a distance back in Sunny-D. Watching Angel also meant watching Buffy. There was nothing the Slayer could say to make her think she wouldn’t jump at the chance to get back into Angel’s arms.

“Well, it’s not fair to Angel,” Cordy pointed out. “You make him broody.”

“I make him happy,” countered Buffy with a smug smile.”

“Hah!” Catching onto the word, Cordelia waggled her head. “TOO happy! Dangerously happy. Kill all your friends kind of happy.”

Stumped, Buffy struggled for a reply. “Guess you were lucky you were never really one of my friends!”

That even stung Cordelia despite the fact that she knew it was true. She had always been on the periphery of Scoobydom. Never really one of the gang. Tolerated because she was Xander Harris’ broom closet girlfriend— and because amongst them all, she had the only car.

“That’s enough of that, little girl,” demanded Doyle now fed up with it all. “Cordelia is trying to *be* your friend, giving you some advice.”

Turning her gaze to Angel’s foreign side-kick, Buffy sent him a cool glare. Her Slayer senses tingled a bit when she looked at him, but nothing to indicate a real threat.

“Cordy can keep her advice,” Buffy gritted her perfect teeth. “I don’t want it. Angel is my— my—”

What exactly *was* he in relation to her, Buffy wondered. Her lover? Ex-lover. Her boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend. Her friend— maybe. A vampire— definitely.

Angel observed the confusion on her face. He wanted to answer her, wanted to calm her fears. She was right, he sensed the direction of her thoughts. There wasn’t a single word to describe the relationship that remained between them.

“Friend, Buffy,” he promised that much, choosing the only option left.

With her brows knitted together in response, Buffy looked confused. Her full lower lip trembled just enough to be noticed. “Is that it? Is that what you want?”

There was silence following the Slayer’s questions. What did he want, Cordelia asked herself, turning slightly to gaze over her shoulder only to find Angel watching her. For an instant, she thought she saw something in his eyes— a spark of desire. That was so hot!

Cordelia’s body answered automatically with a tiny jerking reaction that left her nipples hard and her panties suddenly damp. The lustful glint was still there causing her heart to flip-flop as she turned completely around to face him. When his nostrils flared, she knew that he was scenting her response to his closeness and then Angel’s eyes became a hue of dark amber.

That caused Cordy to step away, startled that she had brought on this vampiric reaction. It still frightened her seeing him that way, even knowing that he would never harm her as long as he had a soul. This was all Buffy’s fault of course.

Whirling back around, she found Buffy glaring at them both. The Slayer’s arms were crossed tightly as one foot tapped an impatient rhythm on the floor.

“Buffy—,” she began with a long breath of air, “I’m asking you to be Angel’s friend. Don’t risk his soul by playing with his emotions.”

“I’m not playing,” Buffy’s eyes turned dark as she stalked up to Cordelia. “Stay out of this. I want you out of my business.”

Angel suddenly swooped up from the desk, tugging Cordelia behind him. Telling Buffy to, “Back off.”

“What?”

“I said— back off, Buffy.” He kept himself wedged between them.

Doyle watched with huge eyes as Angel turned himself into a figurative wall of steel, not letting the Slayer through to— do whatever it is superhuman females did to their rivals.

“Why are you defending her?”

“Because she’s mine,” Angel told her eliciting a gasp from the blonde before he qualified that statement. “My business, my assistant, my friend.”

He could have gone further, adding other descriptors, but he stopped there.

“We have separate missions, Buffy,” he said. “We’re leading separate lives. You’ve got a chance to move on with your life. Let me do the same.”

Buffy’s gaze traveled to Cordelia who peeked out over the vampire’s shoulder. The Slayer's eyes asking— with her? That seemed obvious.

“I guess we’ve covered it, right?” Buffy asked with a resolved look.

Angel nodded, “I guess we did.”

Turning, Buffy quietly left the office.

Suddenly the Mohra demon crashed through the window. Turning, Angel grabbed the nearest usable weapon— the clock from his desk— smashing it into the red jewel on the demon’s forehead. The Mohra had no time to attack much less issue its prophesy about the End of Days as it combusted with its own inner glow.

“That was unreal!” Cordelia gasped.

Doyle was also impressed. “How did you know how to kill it?”

“It’s a Mohra demon. I-I had a lot of time to catch up on my reading.” A flash of anger followed his words.

Cordelia was suddenly feeling a little antsy. “Are you mad at me? I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“I’m not mad, Cordy, and I don’t expect miracles.”

“Hey!”

One corner of his mouth curled upward as Angel gravitated back to her side. He touched her beautiful face, asking, “Why *did* you say those things to Buffy?”

Floundering, Cordelia wasn’t really certain. “Because— I care?”

Taking up one of her wrists, Angel placed her hand over the left side of his chest. “Just a reminder, Cordelia. No beating heart inside. Just a vampire.”

He was not so *just* a vampire. “But you’re *my* vampire— and Doyle’s. We don’t want you broody because Buffy tries to spread her sunshine in places it doesn’t belong.”

Angel released her wrist, noting that she did not remove her hand. With clarity, he saw the flash of jealousy in her eyes and knew it was that rather than pure anger sparking her tirade.

“Tell me what you want, Cordy,” spoke the vampire with a graveled tone. Somehow he needed to hear it from her lips. Nothing had really changed for her; the feelings shared by her on that Santa Monica beach were still there even if they were locked away inside. “Show me. Just do it knowing this is my true face.”

There was a nervous flash in the hazel eyes as his demon visage stared down at her. For a vampire face— it was really good looking compared to some of the others she had seen. But the fact that Angel was a hottie no matter what face he wore was not the point of this exercise. It was just another reminder to keep her distance, to maintain their platonic protocol.

Maybe she didn’t want to maintain. Maybe she wanted to touch him. Cordelia knew that would make her little speech to Buffy Summers look a little silly. Why warn the golden girl off to spare Angel his feelings, why worry about the curse, why pretend that she felt only friendship? Because, it really wasn’t fair to Angel. Not fair to want him when he could do nothing about it.

So Cordelia made Angel think that being a vampire was still a problem. Maybe it was, she was just no longer reviled when she looked at him— only a little scared of her own feelings.

Now Angel wanted her to tell him how she felt. To show him? Cordelia raised her hand from his chest reaching slowly toward his vampiric face— only to jerk her hand away before it touched his ridged cheek. “I-I can’t, Angel.”

Turning sharply, Cordelia moved over to stand next to Doyle who was staring at her like she had lost her mind. “How about that movie?”

“What?!” Doyle looked flabbergasted. “Now?”

Angel shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched Cordelia’s escape into the outer office. “Take her out of here, Doyle. Get her away from this for a few hours.”

“Don’t tell me—,” Doyle knew it with certainty, “You’re planning to brood about this.”

The vampire did not answer. He simply glowered at his friend until Doyle finally gave up and went away. Angel waited until he heard the front door close and the keys jingling as they locked up the office behind them.

He had lost the day. Lost his humanity. Lost the trust of the woman he loved because she could not see beyond his nature. That fault was his— Willow’s memory spell was his idea, after all. Back in Sunnydale, Cordelia’s love for him stemmed from his claim and their soul connection, but it came only because of other magick. A spell that blocked out her natural fear of vampires. Something that altering her memories brought back with a vengeance.

Angel’s demon wanted him to just take charge. To show Cordelia that she had nothing to fear from her mate. Nothing to— but no, she still had something to fear and deep down inside himself his demon raged.

Angel removed his hands from his pockets, sitting down at the chair behind his desk and staring at the face of the broken clock that lay upon it. The Oracles had given in to his demands before folding time and leaving him with his own memories intact. For a price.

Opening his fist, Angel placed the object from his pocket on the desk. Such a small thing to hide so much happiness, so much bloodlust, so much danger. He wanted Cordelia to love him again, but unconditionally. To give herself to him— knowing that he was still a vampire. Without the burden of the past.

Leaning back in the desk chair, Angel looked down at the memory crystal.

The plan to shatter it now gone.

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