Title: Hungry Eyes
Author: Misty Flores
Email: mistyjox@hotmail.com
Teaser: When Angel Investigations investigate a murder at a local strip joint, one of the crew gets a little more undercover than they bargained for.
Genre: Family friendship, Angel/Cordelia sexual tension, Gunn/Fred, Wesley/Fred
Rating: R – for sexual and adult situations – it takes place at a STRIP joint, what did you expect?
Spoilers: Billy
Archive: http://www.wolverineandrogue.com/mistiec

--
Chapter One

The newspaper was plopped upon her desk unceremoniously, and Cordelia Chase barely looked at it, too involved in scribbling her name down the last of the hotel bills before finally giving the attention Wesley Wyndham Price wanted.

"What's this?" she asked curiously, picking up the newspaper, leaning back as her friend and boss leaned over the desk, pointing out the section he had circled.

"There's something you should see."

His voice was concerned, a little more than musing, and Cordelia narrowed her eyes, taking in a breath and skimming the passage. The metro section of the Los Angeles Times rarely had articles of merit, but they were worth perusing at times.

Still, this time the Seer was unimpressed. "This looks just like a regular old murder, Wesley."

"To the untrained eye, yes," Wesley confirmed, sliding into the chair opposite her desk and leaning forward, face pensive, consumed with thought. "But you're forgetting the name."

Cordelia gave him a sigh, but obeyed, highlighted bangs falling forward, obstructing her vision before she pushed them back to peer into the paper. "The victim was identified as Jennifer Suddage. She was found on 6th and Flower, in an alley, a gunshot wound in her head." Cordelia's eyes flittered above the line of the paper to regard Wesley, her heart suddenly taking in a pounding. "Wait. Not the Jennifer we once helped?"

Wesley's gaze was somber as he quietly nodded.

Cordelia closed her eyes, suddenly tired, letting the paper flop down in front of her, memories of the young black woman they had once freed from a vampire flitting through her.

Young, a little misguided. A little wild, but nice. Tired. Cynical.

And hopeful, when they were done with her.

Dead?

Sad resignation caressed her features, and Cordelia Chase, usually not one for emotional outpourings, felt her insides give just a little. Jennifer had been safe… she had been…

Biting her lip, she reached forward, body suddenly feverish with recollection of how that vision had coursed through her.

And there had been so much fear…

"Witnesses report no screaming, Jennifer was on her way home from a party at The Dancehall."

Her eyebrows knit together as her gaze caught his, still unsure as to his meaning. "The male strip joint?"

"Mmm." He nodded, taking in a sigh as he leaned back into his chair.

"What's wrong?" The dark form filled the doorway, and Cordelia gave Angel, the brooding, hulking vampire with a soul, a sad shrug, pushing away from the desk and moving past him, into the other room.

"Wesley will fill you in."

--

Angel felt nervous as the Seer moved away, leaving him in the office with Wesley.

Her eyes had been sad, cold, and that was never a good sign.

With a set of pursed lips and a grim countenance, he crossed his arms and looked to Wesley to explain.

The Englishman held an expression of equal grimness, as he slumped back in his chair, licking his lips.

"What's wrong, Wes?"

Wesley took a breath, and began with, "Do you remember Jennifer?"

Angel frowned, trying to place the name, and sorting through Cordelia's vision aftermaths to figure them out. Finally, the visions shifted, and one came into focus.

"Jennifer- with the slave vampire?"

"The very one. She's dead."

The words were so very final, and Angel didn't like them at all. Swallowing down hard, he only continued to look at Wesley, as if by continuing his stare he would somehow make more meaning out of the last two words.

"Dead." Wesley indicated to the newspaper, and Angel strode forward, picking it up and skimming the passage. "Shit."

"Indeed."

Angel closed his eyes, shaking his head. She had been a lost soul, who at the end of their mission with her had come away smiling, happy and hopeful for a regular life.

His first curled around the paper, wrinkling it within the confines of his fist.

"We're looking into this."

He expected an argument, at least some assertion from Wesley that it was actually Wesley's call to make.

But instead he got a heavy sigh as an answer, and a nod. "Of course."

--

It had taken only a few months for Winnifred Burkle to get reacquainted with the wonders that were computers.

With her head for hard science and her love for all things technical and logical, she had taken the wonders of the Internet and the ease of networking like a fish to water, and Cordelia Chase once commented that Fred was coming close to being labeled a junkie.

With her form hunched over the keyboard, punching away, glasses glinting in the monitor and eyes shining as the information passed over them, Gunn couldn't help but smile.

He had to give the girl her due; he had yet to meet a single person who could quite match the Fredness that was Fred.

"Anything?"

"More than we anticipated," she remarked, offering him a small smile as he came forward, plopping down the files and settling himself next to her, leaning over her shoulder to get a better look at the screen.

"How so?" Wesley moved into the office, his tone distracted as he held the various articles in his hand, rifling through the pages idly.

"Well for one it's a sex club," Cordelia offered a tired smile as she stepped into the room, Angel quickly following behind her.

Wesley found himself distracted at the possessive hand on Cordelia's shoulder, almost unconscious and certainly noticed by no one.

It had bypassed his notice until little Fred had pointed out the growing affection between the pair.

It was something to be concerned with… but not now.

"A sex club?"

"Oh yeah. Get this, women get their jollies there by hard-bodied, able and willing young men. Escorts. Rich young, and incredibly posh."

"Male hookers?"

"By the dozen," Cordelia said to Gunn, as the young man frowned, the increasingly disturbing imagery rifling through his brain making her smile. "Not so much fun when it's YOUR sex, is it?"

"Male ho's," he muttered.

"Jennifer was at a sex club?" The point seemed a little unbelievable to even Wesley.

"It's legitimately a regular Chippendale type of place," Angel said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. "But my sources tell me that the real income comes from the high bidding and the watching."

"I found the website," Fred announced, turning the monitor carefully, pointing to the image of a highly developed young man smiling. "Regular location information and stuff, right ya'll? But look, you just find the hot spot," she reached forward and carefully pressed the mouse so the curser tapped at groin of the man, "And this comes up."

Gunn's frown grew deeper. "Uh… Fred? Wanna tell me what you were doin' clicking on that dude's nether regions in the first place?"

Fred blushed profusely, pushing her glasses up her face, and stammering, "Lucky guess, Ah… guess. Anyway, here's what came up."

The computer whirred as the page downloaded, and Cordelia's eyes widened, suddenly moving to cover Angel's eyes with her palm, the other moving to cover her own mouth.

"That guy's got girth."

Angel gave her a pained smile as he plucked her hand from her face. "Hookers anonymous."

"And there's more." Fred reached forward, taking a stack of printouts from the computer printer, handing them to Wesley, who was doing his best to avoid the imagery on the computer. Gunn was just as busy shuffling.

"I feel ashamed for my gender," he announced, burying his face into his folded arms.

Fred caught Cordelia's smile and smirked herself.

"Jennifer wasn't the first."

"She was the first murder," Fred confirmed, nodding, "But disappearances from the club, lots of them."

Wesley's eyes were glinting as he passed the papers to Angel, rifling through them one by one, taking in a breath as the Ex-Watcher and Vampire exchanged gazes.

"More than five unexplained Missing Persons… two strippers and the rest… females…"

"What about income?" Cordelia asked, leaning over Angel's arm to scan the articles herself.

"It doesn't make sense…" Gunn lifted his head to view Wesley curiously.

"Men subjecting themselves to that sort of shit- Damn right it don't make-"

"I mean the randomness of it all. All races, all genders. All recent… " Wesley moved around the desk, hand settling on Fred's shoulder, making Gunn frown slightly. "And they all trace back to the club?"

"Yeap. All within the last four months. Jennifer was the only one found though. Gun shot, that's pretty random."

"We talked to her friends, they didn't see her past ten."

"It doesn't make sense."

"We're going to make sense out of it," Angel announced, tossing the pile on the table and pushing out an unneeded breath. "Ideas?"

"I think it's pretty obvious." Everyone turned to stare at the Seer, who was seated in one wooden chair, chin resting on her palm.

"Care to tell us how, princess?" Gunn asked dryly.

"Duh. I go undercover, pretend to be a rich elite snob- not exactly stretching that- pick myself up a dancer and you know… investigate."

The grin was almost sheepish.

Wesley rolled his eyes and Gunn once again looked offended on behalf of his gender.

Angel just crossed his arms and glared. "No."

"It was a joke. Kinda." Hazel eyes met dark brown and there was a slight battle of wills between the Vampire in the Seer, before the brunette former cheerleader blushed slightly, looking away.

"Actually, Cordelia has a point." That was offered by meek Fred, who shrunk back slightly as three hostile male eyes focused on her. "Well, Ah mean… Cordy right, we have ta… investigate and that… well ya'll don't have any other plan!"

"Cordelia isn't going to go in there to pick up a male stripper, you do that on your own time," Gunn announced.

"Or not at all," Angel snapped, narrowing his eyes at her.

Wesley was silent, thoughts floating through his head before he finally spoke, "Fred's right." Upon Angel's abrupt whirl, he took a breath, fully preparing to face the vampire's some times irrational anger when it came to the pretty young Seer. "We know next to nothing, and we can't very well have Fred do it, can we?"

Cordelia straightened, looking a little more than happy. "So I get to do it?"

"Why can't I do it?" Fred asked, more curious than offended.

"Because you can't," Wesley snapped.

"Not exactly fittin' rich bitch, Freddie," Gunn said, patting her hand slightly.

"HEY!" Cordelia huffed.

"She's NOT doing it!"

"I am too!"

There was almost an imperceptible growl that came from Angel as he whirled on Cordelia, who now stood straight, tall, eyes blazing and completely defiant.

The Seer wasn't afraid as she crossed her arms and glared at her best friend. "Angel, this is work, okay? STOP with the possessive crap."

"You're not going to be 'soothing' anyone's ass off for WORK, Cordelia." Angel snapped back. Wesley wondered if perhaps he should have reminded the pair others were actually in the room, but when Gunn just slid back into his chair with a resigned expression, he let out a sigh as well. "It's too dangerous. We don't know what's going on in there."

"Angel, think rationally, okay? Joking aside, we need someone in there, and unless one of you wants to play male stripper-"

"OF COURSE!" Wesley burst, suddenly jolting up out of his chair. "That would be perfect!"

Fred gave him a wide-eyed expression. "You want to be a stripper, Wesley?"

"Oh, he's had the practice," Angel muttered, hands on his hips as he gave the Watcher an exasperated glare.

Wesley never stopped to ponder what he meant as he turned, shaking his head. "Not me… but if we had a stripper AND a lady client we'd be covered from both sides. Both circles. You see?"

"So we've got both asses covered," Gunn mused, nodding, and grinning. "I like how you think, English."

"You really think you could pull it off, Gunn?" Angel asked dryly.

Fred colored at the thought.

"Not him, you."

"HIM!?" The outburst was Cordelia's, as she pushed herself in front of Angel and shook her head emphatically. "Not on your life."

"Cordelia-"

"Stay out of it, Angel." Cordelia dug her nails into Angel's forearm, making him wince, but wisely, he kept silent as she sent an icy glare Wesley's way. "You want Angel to pretend to be a hooker? Have you SEEN him strip?"

"I'm sure they give lessons."

"Hello! Curse!" Cordelia tugged on Angel's arm, hands now moving to his chest as she pressed at it emphatically. "He can't do it? Cause the… girls will… paw and… he's all eunuch-y –"

"Okay, for the last time, NOT a Eunuch!" Angel sputtered.

Wesley rolled his eyes, coming forward. "Cordelia, I hardly believe Angel's curse will come into play with some dancing."

"Naked dancing!"

"Angel would be dancing naked?" Little Fred looked almost starry eyed. Gunn just sighed and shuffled again.

"Cordelia-"

"I'd like to point out that I haven't exactly agreed to this," Angel interjected.

Cordelia pounced on that. "See? Not agreed. Not doing it. No way, no how- besides," she muttered, slumping into her chair with a wave of her manicured hand. "He'd make a terrible stripper."

Angel's head swiveled and Wesley smirked, letting Angel's wounded pride do the rest.

"What? I could be a stripper!"

"Oh, please. XANDER made a better one."

"Your ex was a stripper?" Gunn asked, suddenly curious.

"It was a long- that's not the point-"

"Right. The point is you think I can't be a stripper! Look, if Xander can- he really was a stripper?" he asked, and finally shook the question off, poking a finger in Cordelia's direction. "If Xander can be a stripper, I CAN be a great…. Vampire… stripper."

She gave him a 'hmmph' before looking away uncaringly.

Angel growled, turning away from the Seer and almost shouting to Wesley, "When do we start?"

Wesley just gave a contented shrug, and winked at little Fred.

Those two would die if they ever found out how predictable they really were.

--

There was something to be said for the reigning princess' power over Angel Investigations.

If Cordelia Chase wasn't happy, NO ONE was happy.

Charles Gunn shook his head, leaning against the truck as he waited outside The Dancehall, the twinkling lights making his head hurt just a little, as the giggles and chirps of all the women flocking into it with their high heels and little skirts filtered out loud and clear along with the crappy music.

Truthfully, Gunn had his doubts. For one, Angel knew nothing about dancing, and what, they were just gonna take one look at the pretty face and say, 'have the job, the dancing's on us'? Not likely.

That, and Cordelia had a point. Stiff as a rail rod Angel would make a terrible stripper. He grimaced. And Cordelia's continuing whining about that fact wasn't making this any easier.

Thankfully, her particular place in this whole assignment required she keep away until Angel was nice and established, and that meant only he and Wesley, the assigned 'pimps' on brigade, had come to try to get Angel the job as the 'hooker boy'.

He sighed, peering toward the door and shuffling his feet, eyes glancing around the nightspot with the valet parking and velvet covered doors.

This was definitely not your average, mission.

How the hell were they going to make Angel a hooker boy?

--

"They're not back yet."

Fred's eyes were quickly going to go cross from watching Cordelia. The Seer was wearing a path across the lobby, and it wasn't a nice, sensible pattern either, but incredibly irregular, with circles and shifts, and Fred was getting slightly dizzy from the pacing.

"They've only been gone half an hour, Cordelia."

"This is bad, bad, idea," Cordelia muttered, rubbing at her head, blowing her breath out. "And you heard it here first, Fred."

"Ah'll remember that." Fred ran her hands through her dark hair, curiously distracted as she pulled the tresses into a ponytail and continued to observe the fidgety Cordelia.

"Cordy."

The Seer paused, looking at Fred with a tightened glare. "What?"

"It's not lahk he's goin' ta be a stripper for real."

"That's not the point!" Cordelia blew her breath out, eyes lolling up to the ceiling. "I just… Angel's… not exactly the … screw around with women sort…"

"But he's a vampire, right? From what Ah read, they're sensual, prolly-"

"He's not your regular old vampire, Fred!" Cordy snapped, running her hands through the short highlighted bangs. "I just… it's my fault. I played with his pride. I mean… geez… if I had told him, he'd make a GREAT stripper would he have said no?"

Actually, Fred wondered if Cordelia had said THAT would Angel had offered to give the Seer a private show, but wisely, she kept her mouth shut.

It had been a little disconcerting at first, to view the tumultuous relationship between Angel and Cordelia, to truly ascertain exactly what it was, but then again, she related that was probably because neither knew what it was themselves.

They played these little roles half the time, all under the pretext of 'family', but it was clear to everyone in Angel Investigations they held a relationship whose lines were increasingly blurry.

It raised a certain amount of jealousy in Fred, at first, and later it had been replaced with resignation and a bit of sympathy for both. They were each other's blind spots, and being that kind of confused was never fun.

"Well at least you can keep your eye on him when you go as the rich bitch," she pointed out.

Cordelia paused, and seemed to take the statement into consideration, before a smile floated upon her face and she turned. "Right!"

Fred nodded.

"I mean, there's nothing really to worry about because I'll be there every night… making with the richness and the snobness… it'll be like coming home," there was a wistful sigh buried in the statement, as Cordelia flashed another 'I'm a princess and I damn well know it' grin. "Besides, we don't even know if he's going to get the job!"

"I got the job." Angel strode into the room, a grim frown on his face as he walked through the lobby and up the stairs.

Cordelia's eyes widened, and Fred looked curiously to the two men who were shrugging off coats in the lobby.

"Well?"

"Took one look and said 'Thank you very much, but can you dance?'" Wesley dutifully informed. "And then after one number I realized they were talking about Angel."

Gunn snorted and Cordelia grinned.

"Anyway," Wesley cleared his throat. "They say they're willing to start him off as a floor boy, train him at night, and work his way up with a routine."

"Floor boy?"

"You know, serving the drinks in the speedos and bowtie," Gunn said, shaking his hips as he demonstrated. "You know, ladies pinching butts and offering dollars for a brush of the family jewels?"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Cordelia muttered, turning away and moving for the stairs.

Gunn looked almost hurt, pausing mid step. "Shit. I thought I was doing well."

"You were," Fred offered.

Gunn grinned proudly. "Thank you Fred."

She gave him a nod and turned back to Wesley. "So when does he start?"

Wesley blew out his breath. "Tonight. The owners were… quite adamant about it…"

"You sound suspicious," Gunn remarked, settling down beside the Texan waif, throwing an arm casually around her shoulders.

"A little," Wesley admitted, settling down on the other side, and throwing the arm off, leaving Fred sandwiched between the two men. "Whatever happens, we'll figure it out soon enough."

"Yeap."

"Yeap."

Wesley gave them both a smile, and a tired sigh. "Yeap."

--

Cordelia was almost hesitant as she rapped on the door, waiting until she heard the 'Come in' before turning the knob and entering Angel's room.

She found the vampire seated on the bed, hands knit together as he stared up at her, eyes dark and tumultuous.

With a frown, she leaned against the door, studying him, concern for her friend flooding through her.

He was worried.

"So I take it it went."

He nodded, shifting over when she came forward, sinking down onto the bed next to him, crossing her legs and watching as he licked his lips, trying to find a way to begin.

"I can't dance, Cordy."

The admission was told plaintively, in a puppy dog Angel voice that she had found melted her insides into goo.

Her friend really was too adorable at times.

"This really isn't your thing, I'll give you that." He nodded, staring straight ahead.

"You'll do fine."

He shrugged. "Well… you'll be there."

"Not tonight. I have to… do some research first. But… yeah… in a couple days I'll be there. Watching you strut your stuff."

Her tone was friendly, almost placid, and Cordelia wondered why on earth she wasn't pushing as adamantly against this as she had been.

"You don't want to do this, do you?" she finally asked.

"No."

"You don't have to."

"Yes I do. Wesley's right it's the only way."

"It's not the only way."

He stood abruptly, making her wobble slightly with the shift in weight on the bed, and then turned to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her up, so that she was suddenly pressed tightly against him.

He held her, eyes dark and focused, her breath hitching slightly as he pursed his lips, studying her face, before moving back, and without another word pulling off his shirt.

Cordelia was frozen completely to the floor, unresponsive as he moved back, and then, in all seriousness, asked, "Do I look… okay?"

She gave him a bewildered glance, and he elaborated, "I haven't really seen myself since… Pylea… so…"

"OH. Oh." Taking in a breath, Cordelia unbuttoned her sweater, suddenly warm, letting it fall on the bed as she nodded, eyes on his chest. "You're fine, Angel."

"I'm not fat."

An amused smile flitted across the corner of her lips. "No you're not fat."

With almost hesitant fingers, Angel pushed his hand into his pocket and came out with what looked like black cloth. "I have to wear this. But eventually… I have to wear… the speedos."

Cordelia took the items from his hand. A black speedo, and… a bow-tie.

"Boy. That's original." He gave her a shrug, and she sighed, throwing the speedos on the bed and coming forward with the bowtie.

"Come on, I'll help you with it." The smile she offered was gentle, and it gave Angel some encouragement, as he came forward, holding still while she slid her fingers around his neck, carefully leaning forward and expertly tying together the bowtie.

"Voila," she said, her voice husky as she stepped back, nodding.

Angel reached up hesitantly, fingering the tie. "I look okay?"

"Angel you look like a dream boat." He gave her a curious frown, and she suddenly lit up with a smile, gasping. "Hold that thought!" She darted around him, and he watched, bewildered as she closed the door.

He heard her steps clattering down the hallway, and he sighed, closing his eyes and settling back down on the bed, gathering Cordelia's sweater into his hands and pressing the cloth into his mouth, breathing in the scent.

Cordelia, with her endlessly frustrating comments and endlessly infuriating smirks and smiles…

He could do this. If she said he could, he could do it.

Her steps came clattering back, and he put the sweater back, looking up as she came into the room again, this time bearing the digital camera. "Smile!"

He blinked when she snapped the picture, and watched, open mouthed, as she settled down next to him, breasts unconsciously swiping his bare forearm as her fingers manipulated the camera's controls.

He watched, unsure, as she leaned into him, her warmth seeping into his side, the unmistakable scent of Cordelia making him smile, as he leaned his arm back, letting her lean… almost … but it was the almost that counted… into his side, hair brushing his shoulder as his palm settled on the bed, on the other side of her waist, holding her almost neatly too him.

Almost. But it was the almost that counted.

"Here." He looked dutifully at the camera, and there he was, bare-chested with the stupid bowtie, blinking at the camera. "See?" she grinned at him, that sparkling smile that made him smile back. "A hunk."

Her eyes met his, and the gaze was gentle, seeping through him with the sincerity and warmth, a feeling he had come to realize came almost exclusively with his young Seer.

"Right."

"You don't sound convinced."

He gave her a grim smile, and reached forward, carefully pushing her bangs behind her ear in a tender caress. "As long as you believe it. You'll be picking me up in a few days."

"Oh, you betcha. You just wait, Mister, when Cordelia Chase wants to be seductive and rich, she can damn well be seductive and rich."

He couldn't help but grin at the confident tone.

And despite the doubts of confidence in his own performance, he had a sneaking suspicion that his own reaction to being picked up to Cordelia Chase would not exactly come off as fake.

Wistfully, he wondered how good an actress Cordelia truly had become.

--