Title: Pretender
Author: Crazy_Girl_Mary
Email: crazy_girl_mary@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not to sound like all the other fic writers in the Buffyverse, but I don’t own the familiar characters in the story, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, David Greenwalt, The WB, and all those other jerks do. Joss spawned a very sexy evil vampire in leather pants, and I just know what to do with him. You don’t want to sue me. Honest, you don’t. I know these things.
Summary: Basic PWP. It’s short so enjoy it while you can. Complete.
Pairings: Angel/Cordelia or is it Angelus/Cordelia?
Spoilers: None.
Rating: Strong NC-17 for character death, and graphic sex. Do not read if you are under 18!
Author’s Comments: I finally have a website! Isn’t that exciting! I know I’m excited and I’ll be even more excited if you email me with your challenges and reviews.

She’s walking along the beach; right at the waters edge, not to far in and not far enough out for the sand to be separate entities blowing in the wind. The hot sun is beating down on her bare tanned back. She looks down at her naked body, but has no insecurities, for she knows there is only one other person on this beach and he is meant to see the things she normally hides away.

She sees seagulls flying through the crisp blue salty air, sand crabs burrowing in the wet sand, and waves lightly collapsing on the beach as if they’re two lovers comfortable in each others embrace. She searches the sky as the cool breeze suddenly picks up. In a quick lightning flash it is a dark starry calm night.

She smiles to herself, this is his time, it means he’s coming to her and they can be together forever on the desolate beach. She sees his figure in the distance. The moonlight reflects off of his naked creamy white skin. She wants to run to him, but knows it will be well worth the more appropriate wait. In the blink of her brown eyes he is next to her, his hand in her hair. He is behind her, his mouth at her ear, then her neck. He talks to her with his mind and she knows he wants what she would’ve willingly given him the first time she met him, but first he wants her to be like him.

She finds she doesn’t have time to protest and isn’t completely sure she would anyway. He starts to kiss her and she feels his soft gentle features change to hard and cold as his sharp white fangs sink into her warm young neck. As he begins to drain her blood, and her head becomes light she stumbles his name out on her soft white lips, “Angel.”

Cordelia Chase was suddenly bolt upright in her big and empty Queen bed. The blankets were jumbled all around her and she felt sweat all over her body in the cool air-conditioned room. She rubbed her sore head and crawled out of bed, another wonderful day at work. She had been having these horrible dreams since they had found out Buffy was dead, about a month. Angel hadn’t been himself, and he hadn’t solved a case since then. They had had more customers then ever and ended up turning most of them away at the door, knowing that if they didn’t they would just end up disappointing them in the end. Gunn had been spending more time dealing with his runaways. They had had more vampire problems then ever before. They guessed Darla and Drusilla were trying to gather an army to face them.

Angel had been completely devastated, he wouldn’t eat or sleep, and barely worked; he sat around the house all day then when night came he mumbled he had to go for a walk and was gone until dawn. Cordelia and Wesley had tried to follow him one night but couldn’t keep up with him. He had most likely known they were there and lost them on purpose.

As she undressed and walked to the shower she couldn’t think of any possible reason she had been having these dreams. She guessed it was a subliminal old Cordelia glitch, like, ‘whoa, he’s hot, he’s free, move in girl!’ She had always thought Angel was the most attractive man next to Brad Pitt of course, and maybe Ryan Phillippe; but he was a demon and on the Eww! Scale he was rated pretty high. Not to mention that a relationship with him was worse then impossible.

As she finished testing the water and climbed into the steaming hot shower she realized she had went over this every morning for the past month and still hadn’t come up with anything. She was happy that she hadn’t gotten a vision since then which meant fewer evils on the LA scene. She finished washing and got out of the shower. She wrapped a towel around her hair then a terry cloth robe around her body and brushed her teeth and put on her before make-up face base. Then she went into the kitchen and sat down as a cup of hot coffee prepared just the way she liked it floated through the air and landed on the table in front of her. “Thanks Dennis,” she said taking a sip, crossing her legs and leaning her chin on one hand to have her morning quick think.

When she finished her coffee she placed the Princess mug on the table and watched as Dennis floated it off to the sink. Then she went back to her room to get dressed. She reappeared forty-five minutes later with tight light blue jeans, a tan silk tank top with a low V-neck, a sheer tan flower print scarf tied loosely around her neck, a brown leather belt with a gold western buckle and brown leather heeled boots. Big gold hoop earrings, a dozen bangle bracelets, and a thick gold crucifix necklace that hung down to her waist completed the trendy sexy ensemble. She grabbed her brown leather purse out of the closet and transported her items from yesterdays black purse with red polka dots to todays.

Then she locked the front door as she went out front to wait for Wesley. He was picking her up because he had given her a ride home after a hard night the night before and her car was still at the hotel. The sun was shining brightly and the birds were chirping in the trees. If she wasn’t unfortunate enough to know what lurked behind ever tree she might actually think today was going to be a lovely day. She smiled as Wesley pulled up in his navy blue four-door sedan. Exactly on time as usual. She climbed in the passenger seat and greeted her friend before they headed off to the coalmine.

Angel heard Wesley and Cordelia as they entered the hotel. They had moved the office back to the hotel shortly after Buffy died because with Angel back in the firm he had to be able to freely go back and forth from office and home. During the day that wasn’t always an option because of sunlight. So Angel Investigations had it’s Angel back and was back in Angel’s place.

He climbed out of bed and pulled a pair of faded black drawstring sweatpants over his naked body and hobbled on tired legs to the bathroom to start the morning. He took a quick searing hot shower then brushed his dead teeth. He walked into his bedroom and found an outfit in his dresser, by then the intense heat and breeze from the ceiling fan had dried his body. He pulled on a pair of black slacks and a black button down shirt, which he left half open. Then ran a comb through his brown hair and covered his hands with a healthy heap of gel. He rubbed it into his hair and used his fingers to make his tall lazy spikes that made him look so attractive.

Then he walked down the stairs to the office. He grabbed a packet of blood and walked into his office, shutting the door behind him and closing the blinds without saying a word to Cordelia or Wesley. Angel sat down in the leather chair behind his big wood desk. He crossed his legs on the desk and stared at his bare feet deep in thought. Then he threw the pigs blood down on the desk in disgust. Looking at it like a noble prince looks at a maggot-ridden apple. He remembered when he fed off the wealthiest, most beautiful people in the world with out a thought of anything but himself, now he was forced to pigs’ blood. He wondered if it was worth it, and knew it was.

“He’s really not taking this too well,” Cordelia said staring at the closed door with deep concern. She wished she could do something to make him happy, not TOO happy, but a little less unhappy, or something like that.

“Well how would you expect him to take it?” Gunn asked from the couch.

Cordelia glared at Gunn from her spot rooted by the door. “Gunn’s right,” Wesley chimed in, “I would be a lot more worried if he wasn’t taking it like this.”

“Well, he should be going out in a few hours or so, and when he does, I’m following him.” Cordelia whispered across the room, then added louder and firm, “By myself.”

Wesley just looked at her, they all knew if Angel didn’t want to be followed he wouldn’t, but they still tried most every other night to keep up with him. Cordelia was the only one who thought, hoped he would want to be followed, and especially by her. She looked down at her growling stomach and decided to take a little walk down to the outdoor market to get something to eat before the nights work.

She walked over to the small chair by the door and grabbed up her purse and sunglasses, “I’m going to get something to snack on, I’ll be back,” then she opened the door and in seconds was gone from their view.

Cordelia followed the warm white sidewalk to a small outside market down the street. She stopped at the fourth vendor, a small elderly Hispanic woman selling fresh fruit. She grabbed two clementines and a Granny Smith Apple. The women smiled lovingly at Cordelia, “One dollar for you Senorita.”

Cordelia pulled five dollars from her purse and handed it to the old woman. The woman’s face lit with excitement, “Muchas Gracias Senorita, Muchas Gracias.”

“De Nada,” Cordelia said happily and walked over to a nearby bench. She unraveled the small paper bag, which had been so carefully wrapped and pulled out the first small orange. She concentrated hard as she began to peel the thin orange skin off in one long spiral peel. She pulled the separate pieces apart and ate them. She looked up and saw the sun was still twinkling brightly in the periwinkle sky. She then opened her small bag and pulled out her keys. She uncovered a small sharp pocketknife Doyle had given her. She looked at the sharp blade, he said it would protect her when he couldn’t and she had made a rude comment to try and convince herself and him she hadn’t had feelings for him. But she couldn’t lie to herself. She got out the bright green apple and starting at the top began her slow spiral, at the bottom with only one curl left the peel broke and fell to the ground. She bent to pick it up and felt the small tip of the blade slid into her finger.

“Owl,” she mumbled and sat up, She lifted her arm and looked at the red blood. She watched it run down her finger to the knuckle at the start of her hand, and then watched it drip off and descend to the ground. Halfway it froze in the air and reversed slightly then dropped in a small splat on the ground. By this time the second drip quickly followed. She couldn’t believe her eyes in that second, she must be disoriented. She jerked her head up and saw big black clouds roll in as if fast-forwarding a movie. Then the clouds were gone, and so was the sun. It was nighttime, his time. She didn’t have to look behind her to know he was there. Then she felt him like soft creamy ice crawling through her hair, rubbing her neck, her breast. She closed her eyes and craned her neck back. At that moment wanting him inside of her more then anything and not caring about who was watching, not caring about the consequences.

He read her mind, “We’re all alone,” he whispered softly, possessively. She flashed her eyes open and looked around. He was correct everyone was gone and the darkness was so complete she could only see herself, then him. Standing right in front of her now. His unbuttoned black shirt moved open even more as a small wind blew at them. His skin, his body, was so perfect, so beautiful. She reached out to him with her left hand and he moved closer to her. She could smell his soapy clean. She ran her hand down his hard chest, down to his stomach, to the start of his pants. She watched the red blood trail leaving evidence of her hasty decline. She was bringing the other hand to his belt buckle when he reached down and grabbed her hand roughly. He slid onto her lap and felt her heartbeat quicken like no horror movie could ever cause. He smiled, as she didn’t try to fight him, try to have things her way. He wanted it his way and she knew better then to fight. She knew his way would be better then anything she could create.

First he examined the blood on her finger, hand, arm. Then he started where it stopped, slowly licking sucking until her bleeding finger was in his mouth. The whole time he kept his eyes locked on hers and she looked for the signs of pleasure in his eyes she knew he would see in hers. She couldn’t see anything but cold death in his big brown eyes. He then released her hand and stood up smiling, “What’s the matter darlin’? You have a bad dream?” then in a flash he was gone. She was in the park and the sun was nearly down. She looked down to see her arm, hanging limp. The puddle she had watched start had grown considerably. She felt faint from seeing the blood, which truthfully wasn’t that much at all but was still frightening. These haunting dreams had started when her visions had stopped and she wasn’t sure which she liked better. She felt sweaty and disturbed. She got a tissue out of her purse and wiped away the blood that wasn’t completely dry from her body, then packed her things back up and started back to the office.

She walked slowly, carefully, nauseously back; and by the time she got there it was dark enough for Angel to depart. When she went inside she knew by the look on Gunn’s face he had already left. She plopped pathetically into the fluffy old leather chair in the hotel lobby. “What now?” she said, her voice cracking with sadness. They were all concerned she knew, but she felt she was the only one who knew he was slowly slipping away. And if she told them she had had dreams not visions they wouldn’t believe her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted them to know, she wanted to protect this demon she knew would never care but to torture her and play mind games with her. After all these months, years of imagining and playing it out in her head she found she was excited at the thought of him, on her, in her, and it didn’t matter what he did.

Tears streamed down her pretty face, as Gunn and Wesley looked on in shock. “What’s the matter?” Gunn asked, “What’s suddenly got you so upset?”

Wesley glared at him, “Obviously Buffy’s death has just hit her, how can you be so oblivious?” Wesley walked over and put a comforting hand on Cordelia’s shoulder. She jumped up angrily, “You’re all wrong!”

Then without explanation she stormed from the room. Gunn grabbed his coat to follow her but Wesley stopped him, “She’s just confused, leave her be.”

Cordelia felt better when she left the cramped building and entered the crowded park across the street. In the mass of people she felt safer. She just walked aimlessly, thinking about everything that had happened. Everything was always because of Buffy. She dies and everything is suddenly screwed up. Angel is suddenly too sad and upset to work, like they hadn’t been apart for a longtime. Sadness and grief never stopped him before; losing Buffy was more devastating then the knowledge that you had grimly ended thousands of human beings lives? She had to stop thinking about him. She was only confusing herself. Was he good? Evil? Happy? Sad? Right in front of her?

Her heart stopped as she saw a tall dark haired man with a long black coat stride confidently through the crowd. She knew he felt as if he could have his pick of the lot and she knew directly it was her enemy, her dream. She had been right. She didn’t even have to see his face to know it was him. Should she go get help? There wasn’t enough time. She wanted to run for help but her legs were moving closer to him without her want. He felt her coming, she knew. He started to veer to the left then was out of the crowd and leading a young girl down a dark alley. Wasn’t this scene getting old?

The young girl was about 15 years old, she had pretty blonde hair, a short black skirt and a low cut tank top reveling bruises and track marks. A prostitute, figures. She followed them down the small street. Angelus turned to the girl held her tightly, stared into her fearing, high eyes then letting her scream for a few moments he quickly killed her and dropped her limp body to the puddled ground. He glared back smiling happily at Cordelia’s shadow, knowing she would still follow him. Then he turned and walked steadily toward the end of the alley.

Cordelia couldn’t believe her eyes, her dream had been a vision of its own. Here he was, wanting to be followed, evil, wanting to be followed by her, evil, sexy, wanting him, her; on her, inside her, on him, in her head, his head in her. Her head was dizzy and overflowing with uncooperating thoughts as she followed. He pulled out a set of jingling keys and entered a small sturdy wooden door, which he had to stoop to go through; he was still minutes ahead of her. It seemed like an hour later that she cautiously followed, though she knew caution was useless. She entered a hallway lined ceiling walls and floor with dark red, draping silk. The floor was littered with rose petals and flickering candles. She had seen this before and was sent aback at his lack of originality, maybe he didn’t think she was good enough for an original death. Why should she be any different then anyone else. It didn’t bother her, her shameful death was worth the gentle misleading pleasures she knew would come before.

She took off her jacket and threw it on the chair. She took a stake and a bottle of holy water and tossed them to the floor. Why not go all the way? She stepped out of her heels and decided to leave the rest for him. She slowly padded down the hot corridor as quietly as she could manage. Her heart pounded with impatience and anxiety. She came to the end, through red sheers hanging from the ceiling she looked in. He was lying on a black and red bed overflowing with silk and pillows. He had on only black pants unbuttoned. His hands were entangled in black hair. A young women was on top of him, spreading his legs a little farther for maximum pleasure, he pushed her against him harder then pulled her head back and forth on him. He showed no signs of a climax before he pulled the girls head off him and threw her to the floor. She quickly jumped up and was slamming Cordelia against the wall by the throat.

Before Cordelia could blink Angel was beside them. She could have tilted her face to the left and touched his lips. That was how close he was. She was beginning to suffocate when she realized this was how she was about to die. She kneed the girl in the chest and slammed her into the opposite wall. Angel was at their sides the whole time. Cordelia punched the vampire several times then tackled her on the floor, she looked around for a weapon but there was none. She stood and began dragging the girl back down the hall by her long dark hair. She picked up the stake and when she turned back the girl was directly behind her.

She tackled Cordelia onto the floor and sent the stake flying from her hand. The girl grinned, her evil features mocking Cordelia. Then the vampire leaned down and opened her mouth inches from Cordelia’s neck. She winced and backed up, Cordelia’s gold cross necklace shining. Then her dust fluttered all over Cordelia’s body. She shuddered in disgust. Angel stood over her, holding her stake in one hand. He had killed his whore for her. That had to mean something right? Wrong, it meant nothing and she knew it. She didn’t care for a second. He then dropped the stake and walked back towards the bed, waiting for her because he knew she would come, he knew she had too.

She laid there for a minute gathering herself before standing and brushing the ash from her expensive soiled clothing. Then she walked the hall again. When she looked in he wasn’t in the bed like she expected. She couldn’t see him anywhere. She knew it was his place and he could be everywhere. Instead of searching, or even surveying the room she walked over to the bed. She would make him come to her, keep some feelings of control in this uncontrollable situation. She slowly, seductively shed her clothes for his watching eyes. Something she had practiced for future lovers, perhaps even him, many times in the mirror. Then she slid her smooth slim body in between the silk covers. She closed her eyes and could barely keep from touching herself at the thought of him. She felt wintry cold breath on her neck and when she opened her eyes he was next to her, his icy black gaze sizing up his rations. He loves to play with his food she thought ironically, it was rare that the food wanted to be played with.

Most of his victims were women, and most of them wanted him indeed, but he knew it was rare a victim knew what he was and wanted him even more. It had happened a lot in the earlier days when vampires had just started to occur in folklore and women thought they were sexy seducers, and since he was, that was a time when women would follow him in the streets. He remembered those times with great fondness, but he had to admit Cordelia was an extremely beautiful women and he remembered a time when she wouldn’t look at him for fear she would be attracted to a disgusting demon. Now look at her, naked, and a willing victim in his bed. He would make her regret it, because he could, he wanted to, he loved to, and to keep her from thinking she was in control. He was always in control.

She was rod still with fear and even then her dripping arousal was a stronger smell. It made him hungry for her. For her body, blood, soul, fear, death. In one quick movement he threw the covers to the floor exposing her perfect body and was on top of her. With shaking hands she moved to do what inexperienced women do. She grabbed his belt buckle with both hands and had it off in seconds. This was usually a complete turn-off but now it seemed sexy. Angel used one hand to push her roughly back against the bed, showing her not to do anything else. Showing her he was in control. She laid back as instructed and stared into his eyes with pure lusty longing. He looked down at her soft breasts; he leaned down and rubbed his face over her hard nubs. Her body pushed strongly up against his. Her legs wrapped around his waist in vain. His pants were still upright and he grinned at her small whimper as he unwrapped her legs.

He leaned back down and licked and sucked and bit her nipples. He soon realized Cordelia wasn’t one for foreplay. He was the master; he would make her love it. Then he began to slowly move down her stomach. She let out a deep throaty sign when he neared her dark curls. He slowly worked his way around to her thigh, and then he cupped her bottom in both hands and lifted her towards him. He looked up to see she was closing her eyes and concentrating only on feeling to heighten the orgasm.

Her whole body tightened as his lips touched hers. He worked his tongue in the slow then rapid pace he had many, many times before. A little over fifteen minutes later she was screaming his name as she came. Screaming his name like she had never screamed anyone’s name before. He was surprised; he had expected her to be more of a religious screamer. When she was spent her body went limp in his arms. He knew she would soon be even more ready then before. He stood and she watched him. He walked over to the table and turned the light off, the room was dark except the flickering candle light cast in from the hallway. Then he turned to her and unbuttoned his pants, then slid the zipper down. She stared as he dropped his pants, then his black silk boxers which had come as a pleasant surprise to her, she remembered from a few accidental (*wink wink*) sightings of Angel getting dressed. He didn’t wear underwear, and instead of being a turn-on it was an extreme turn-off for her. She had never seen a more beautiful body. She felt her breath catch and seize to a halt as he began towards her.

His strong legs flexed in his slow stride. Her body made her sit up suddenly and part her legs in an inviting pose as he neared. He smiled, and pushed her back. As his body made complete contact with hers she laid back on the bed. She could feel him hard against her, just outside of her, just outside of reach. She knew she couldn’t make him enter her from this position, but she knew she couldn’t help but try ether. He leaned down and began to gently kiss, suck, and lick her neck. He lifted a hand and ripped the gold crucifix quickly and painfully from her neck. She moaned in sudden pain, but didn’t fight him. She wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him and he smiled giddily as he rubbed his face in her long brown hair. Smelling flowers and expensive perfume. His strong body was pressing against her soft one. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He released her and leaning back he put his hands on the backs of her knees and pushed hard. Her legs separated willingly and enticingly. She was surprisingly flexible but he knew he could always bring out the best in women.

Instead of trying to be gentle and enter her slowly he entered her in one fast painful push, he smelled blood quickly inside her. She screamed with pain, but he knew pain was pleasure, at least for him he was sure. Her hands came up to grip the arms holding him over her. He began to slowly move in and out of her, at the same time moving his hips left and right, in and out, left and right. She began to move her hips in opposite directions to his surprise, and pretty soon they had a nice rhythm going. She moaned and squealed every time she neared coming but he never let out a sound. After over two hours and more orgasms then Cordelia had had in her life put together Angelus suddenly turned over and put her on top. He grabbed her tightly on the hips and she put her hands on his chest. He lifted her until they were barely connected then slammed her roughly back on top of him, pushing all the way inside her, he felt warm blood and cream running down him and onto his body. He continued lifting and slamming until he came inside of her for the first time. His dead seed spilled rapidly into her and kept coming and coming. When it had stopped he started this again until he came inside her for the third time. Her body shuddering with her own orgasms each time he came heightened his own. She screamed “Oh Angel! Oh god Angel!” each time.

Then he rolled them over again. He pulled out of her and she lay limp and tired before him. The smell of blood was strong now, he leaned down and didn’t care about foreplay this time, he slid his skilled tongue into her moist, worn, bleeding slit and sucked and licked all the blood he could. He felt her come again, which made him hard for more. He then played with her with his fingers to get her a little moister, entering one finger then two, and sliding them in and out making her body arch towards him. Trying to push the fingers further then they would go. He was all too happy to know what would go deep inside her and then some. He slid inside her slowly now, and went in and out slowly over and over. She came three times more before he came, which sent her into another tired orgasm he knew would be her last. She couldn’t even move.

He collapsed on top of her just to feel her body pressing so tightly against his. Still inside of her he leaned down to her neck. It was time. First he bit her softly with his dull teeth. Then changed face and bit into her neck quickly, he started drinking speedily, hungrily. She felt the gold chain wrapped around her hand. She lifted her hand and pushed it as hard as she could against his face. He moaned in pain and withdrew his teeth from her neck. Still having some of her strength she jumped from the bed and picked up the stake on the floor, she turned to where he was still holding his eye and slammed the stake into his back. He pulled away but it was too late, in seconds he was a pile of ash. She stared in surprise. He was dead. She had killed him? It couldn’t have been that easy. She couldn’t disagree with the evidence. Buffy was going to shit bricks! She felt the stake slip from her tired hand to the wooden floor, then in a zombie like fashion she walked back down the long corridor from which she hadn’t expected to emerge and put on her pants, then wrapped her jacket tightly around her and opened the door. Outside the sun was up, she looked at her watch, nearly 6:00 AM. She walked slowly back to the office, then climbed in her small car and drove to her small home. After completing such an amazing task everything now seemed small. Was she a great actress? You’re God Damn Right!!!