Little Bitty Puzzle PiecesBy PJzallday
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Late in the afternoon, Giles, Andrew and Dawn returned to the Hotel. Angel had offered the group rooms which (for the time being) they'd accepted. Giles had delayed making arrangements for his return to England until the last of the new Slayers were on their way home. He also hoped to discuss the possibility of his former colleague Wesley Wyndam-Pryce joining him in rebuilding the Council. As much as he appreciated Dawn's help, knowledge and enthusiasm in recent months, he doubted they would be able to do the job alone. Having another formally trained Watcher who also had excellent real world experience would be a great asset.
"Hello-o?" Dawn called once inside the apparently empty hotel lobby.
From behind the reception desk popped a tall, flamboyantly dressed green-skinned demon. "Welcome to the Hyperion, darlin's!" Strolling out into the main lobby, he waved two large hands in a flourish that could rival the stylings of Vanna White or any of the Price-is-Right gals.
"Dawn," Andrew spoke without moving his lips. "Jaw."
Embarrassed, the young woman closed her mouth.
"Now Angel-cakes wanted me to tell you that he had important business at the office," the demon explained. He raised the side of a hand to his cheek and lowered his voice. "Really he just figured it would be easier for you if he were out. Mr. Sensitivity," he chuckled. "Isn't he just a big ol' sweetie?"
"Ah… yes. Quite," Giles agreed politely.
"The name's Lorne." Approaching the group, the demon held out a hand. "Consider me the Welcome Wagon. Sea Breeze?"
From half-way down the stairs, Buffy interjected, "It's a little early in the day for me." Just as Dawn was about to answer, Buffy continued, "…and too early in life for her."
In an attempt to save face, the younger woman reached for demon's offered hand. "I'm Dawn. You've met my sister," she said with a scowl then she motioned to her companions. "This is Andrew, and Mr. Giles."
"Yes, um… Rupert Giles." The man stepped forward extending his own hand.
"It's a pleasure, hon," the demon said giving the hand a firm shake. "Will you be in L.A. long?"
"I've some business to attend to then we should be off."
"Yes, that reminds me: Wes wanted you to give him a dingle when you got in."
"Certainly. But first things first," Giles countered uneasily. "Mr. … ah… Lorne? Would you mind showing the others to their quarters? I should like to have a quick word with Buffy."
"Absolutely, sweet cheeks. Right this way, ladies," Lorne directed bringing an odd delayed reaction of puzzlement to Andrew's face.
"And when you're ready, help yourself to the phone in the office," the friendly demon called back melodically as he glided up the stairs and disappeared with Dawn and Andrew.
Giles removed his glasses and pulled a cleaning cloth from his pocket.
"Before you start, Giles, I know what I'm doing," Buffy insisted. "I just spoke with my dad. Angel's got amazing contacts…" she muttered off-handedly. "Dawn and I will only be here until my dad's sub-letters move out of his condo then we'll move in there. Besides, Angel and I aren't going to rush into anything."
"But you do intend to pursue a romantic relationship with him?"
***
Angel slipped quietly into the room.There was no sound except for the almost inaudible buzz of the monitors and drip of the IV.
Angel pulled a chair from the corner of the room to sit beside the bed. He smiled as he noticed her perfectly manicured finger tips; Lilah had promised that Cordelia would receive the best care possible and clearly no detail was being overlooked.
"Hey," he choked. "Cordy… You're looking well..." He paused to give her a chance to reply.
She didn't.
He took her hand. Different from Buffy's, it was larger, paler and as he held it, he noticed it was cooler. Now it seemed quite unlike Cordy's too. Her heart-rate was slow and weak. Her circulation was poor. Angel wished he didn't have the awareness his vampire senses brought him.
"Cordy… I… I wanted to…" He strained to organize his thoughts. "I've missed you… missed having you in my life." He paused as tears came to his eyes. "I'm sorry about what happened between us. Sorry I treated you the way I did… because of Connor." Thinking of his son, saying his name aloud, renewed the pain Angel had felt over choosing to give the boy a new life. "I know that wasn't really you. I should have known that then…"
He scanned the room. It looked so much like her room at the Hotel. Fred must have brought over some of her bits and pieces. But were these things really Cordy's? How much of what she'd been in the past year was Cordy and how much of her was influenced… controlled by Jasmine?
He squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you from all that." His head lowered to rest on their entwined hands. "I just couldn't see anything past my anger… my jealousy…"
He dropped her hand and leapt to his feet. Pacing the room, he launched into a rant, "He was my son for God's sake! My son! And now I've lost him, and you, again and-"
The thought of Buffy returned to him and his anger dissipated. "Cordy," he sat back at her side, once again taking her near-lifeless hand in his. "I hope you know that I love you." He paused looking for some kind of reaction.
Nothing.
"You treated me like a man… part of a family. You accepted the vampire but didn't dwell there. You helped me back from the edge more than once… If only I could have helped you. I…" Looking at her peaceful face, Angel wished that she would wake so that he didn't have to carry the conversation alone. He needed some witty retort from her or some acknowledgement that she knew how he felt and that she shared his feelings. He couldn't think what more to say. He didn't want to relive the what-ifs of the past. He wanted a future.
"Buffy's back."
For a moment, he swore she'd twitched, but again there was nothing.
***
He held her in his arms; her cheek pressed against his chest. The subtle floral fragrance of her hair filled his senses. The heat of her body radiated to his, warming his cool skin. The quiet murmur she made as she breathed, warming his heart. He was as close to heaven as he ever imagined he could be.
***
The mystery man was asleep when Judith Sanders did her rounds at the beginning of her shift. His chart suggested he'd been asleep most of the few days he'd been in the hospital, brought in with nasty sunburn and severe dehydration. The nurse replaced his IV bag, checked the output on his catheter and noted the decrease in redness and swelling on his back. He seemed to be recovering. For the moment, he was resting comfortably, curled up cuddling a pillow to his chest. As he slept, he seemed to smile."There has to be a wife or a girlfriend somewhere," Judith said quietly. Then, she smirked. "Or a boyfriend, life-partner… whatever."
As she spoke, he began to stir. Slowly at first; little twitches. Then suddenly, his voice hoarse, he let out a pained cry. His eyes fluttered. His breathing was laboured and shallow.
Swiftly but cautiously, the nurse moved to his bedside. "Shh… Take it easy." Her voice was soft and comforting.
He fought to pry open his dry stinging eyes. Through his battered haze, he could see her: filmy white blouse outlining her delicate form, golden skin aglow, hair pulled back loosely from her face… But her face was a blank as if the light overexposed its image. He squinted to try to focus.
Judith moved to the window.
When she pulled open the drapes, he shrieked, "Bloody hell." Instinctively, he recoiled beneath the sheets and threw up his hands to cover his eyes. As he did so, his IV tubing tangled in the bedding which only amplified his agitation.
"Hey now!" She rushed to grab his hand and block some of the light. "Sorry about that. Didn't think the sun would still bother you." She patted his arm. "It's OK. You were really dehydrated when you were brought in; that's just giving you fluids. You've got to leave it in for now."
With her now hovering over him in the bright morning sun, the patient was able to focus and get his first good look at the woman. Her silhouette seemed to have changed. She was taller; her body fuller and skin fairer than it seemed before. "Who're you?" He had no inkling as to who she was and that confusion and disappointment caused his head to spin and his chest to ache. "I…" he tried to speak. "Where am I?"
"You're in the hospital," she replied comfortingly. "In Santa Barbara. My name's Judith; I'm a nurse."
Surprised, he attempted to process the information: hospital, Santa Barbara, nurse, Judith. His nurse.
Judith pressed for information. "Can I get your name?"
Name. What was his name? He tried to find an answer. The strain of his efforts was clear on his face.
She smiled sympathetically. "Do you remember anything? Anything at all?"
"I… I'm not sure. I get… flashes." A woman. Cinder blocks. A cacophony of chatter. Overwhelming joy. Searing pain. He winced and shifted to ease the sting at his back. "Can't…"
"Well, you're not a native Californian," Judith deduced from his accent and cadence. "Were you on vacation?"
He shook his head. "I don't… don't think so."
"Is there someone I can call for you?" the nurse inquired optimistically. "Family? A friend?"
He grew distant for a moment and gazed past the nurse to the glow from the window. Closing his eyes, he thought he could almost see a familiar face. Tightly he squeezed his lids, struggling to see the vision in his mind. "I…" But the image soon faded. His head dropped shaking slightly. "I dunno."
Patting his hand, Judith comforted, "It's OK. It'll come. Give it time."
Though his lips formed half a grin, his eyes were wide and sad.
"In the mean time, what would you like to be called? We can't just keep calling you John Doe 03021," she added light-heartedly.
"John's fine," the patient replied downheartedly.
She gave his hand a squeeze. "John, it is."
At her touch, "John" slowly closed his eyes and clutched her hand. Soon he was asleep again, and the contented smile had returned to his face.