Angel the series was created and is owned by that big honcho Joss Whedon. I'm just traveling around the galaxy in Bebop. Hey, Ed, get away from there. No, don't press that button! That'll give me an electric shoc… bbbbbbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzztttttttttttt. (Collapses with X's over her eyes.)
SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL
(part seven)
by Lamech
Angel hated traveling through the sewer systems. The act only reminded him of what he was and that he could not walk in the full brightness of day. That was unless he wanted to be consumed by sunlight.
Walking with Anna made it even worse. Despite all he had witnessed. Despite the literal and proverbial writings on the wall. Despite what his colleagues thought. He did not trust the woman. He could not put his finger on it but there was something corrupt about the woman. She drew out from him a feeling of paranoia that itched the back of his brain. He fought the urge to grab her and shove her against the wall demanding that she tell him the truth. But he wondered what purpose would that serve? What if I am wrong? What if it is not her but me who is bringing these feelings on?
The vampire glanced over at the woman who was covering up her nose with one hand and sporting a flashlight with the other. Maybe it is me? Maybe I feel this way because Anna brings up feelings of my past. I remember Hungary. I remember that dark time where I had no soul. And Darla and me would…Visions of Darla dancing in a white cotton dress, a dress she had picked from the body of a child who was barely in the age of womanhood flashed across his mind.
"She was so young, Angelus," whispered Darla as she came up from behind the vampire. Her tongue drew a circle at the nape of his neck. He shivered from the coldness of her flesh; "She was rushing to mass. So late. So late. I couldn't help myself."
Angelus stared down at the remains of the girl-woman that Darla had brought home.
He smiled, "You can never help yourself, my love."
The woman vampire giggled softly and purred in the man's ear, "She was so sweet and pure like cane sugar. But look at her now. She looks so alone. Do you know what she needs?"
Angelus shook his head as Drama began to trace a trail down his throat with her mouth. She stood before him and giggled again like a child, "She needs a companion."
The male vampire liked the idea, "Yes, a groom perhaps?"
"Angel."
"A groom! That is it exactly! We should have a wedding!"
"Angel!"
"Let us go now, Angelus, my darling, and find her groom. Someone as sweet. And they will have a church wedding!"
"Dammit. ANGEL!"
The vampire shook in his skin as the vision broke free and vanished. He blinked and for a second questioned where he was. Then the smell slapped him across the face. Oh, yeah. Now I remember where I am. Great.
"Are you okay?" Anna said as she pointed the flashlight in Angel's direction. "You were out of it for a moment."
Squinting Angel nodded. "Yeah. I am okay."
"I think we are here." She motioned in front of her. There just about thirty feet away were a tunnel should have been was a club. The front of the underground building was cement and metal lined betraying its sewer roots. But the neon lights glowing with triple X's and the promise of hard liquor and easy women, (human women? Angel never could tell) reeked of a cheapness that could only come from a third rate bar. Music from a cover band wafted down the tunnel. A poorly played version of some Dick Dale tune hissed in Angel's ears. If he could he would have done an about face then and there. But Anna grabbed the vampire by the edge of his jacket and demanded that he come along.
Angel closed his eyes and thought of Wesley. In voice low enough that Anna could not hear he whispered, "You're the real reason I'm doing this. I hope you realize this."
_____________________________________________________________________
At that moment Wesley sneezed and felt his right ear burn. He groaned. And on top of all the miseries that were bombarding him was illness having a go at him as well? He grimaced as he pulled himself up and rested against Angel's headboard.
His head began to scream in pain. Ahh, there you are. My little piece of hell wouldn't be complete without you, hangover. Happily he found a glass of water and two aspirin waiting for him on an end table next to the bed. No doubt laid out by Angel, he thought as he swallowed them. His jaw popped as he closed his mouth. It caused a shock of pain to race through his body. And though the young man could not recall every detail that lead up to Angel's upset he remember what Angel had did to him.
Angel had punched him. And he had every right to. At least that's what Wesley believed. He had been drunk before with similar results. I bet I was an ass. He corrected himself. No, I am an ass. He pulled at his oversized clothing realizing it was Angel's. A horrible thought raced through his mind. Angel must have undressed me out of my soiled clothing. I know for a fact I was too much in shock to do it myself. That means he…saw me…He shook his head not believing it for a moment until he checked his pants. Those aren't my boxers. He felt his entire body became warm and red and slumped back down in bed. Oh, Christ. His closed his eyes and wished Angel was there so that he could knock him out again.
"Well, hello, sleeping beauty," snorted Cordelia as she wandered into the room. A try of toast and jam was loaded in her arms. She settled the tray on the foot of the bed. "So, are you sober or you still Mr. Sloshed Faced?"
"Mister what?" Wesley murmured as he moved foreword. The room began to spin like a whirlpool. The young man winced as he covered his eyes hoping to shock out the pain. It did not work. In low whisper he hissed, "My head is killing me."
"Ah, back to the not so lemony fresh reality, I see. Good." She took a seat next to the man on the bed. "Now, there was something I was supposed to do when you awoke," Cordelia said as she began to tap her temple with a serious look on her face. She looked at the young man with narrowed eyes, "Now I remember." With a swift swing of her hand she smacked Wesley upside the head. The man jerked away feeling the smart sting of the girl's action.
"What was that for?" he hissed.
"For acting like such an jerk this morning," she hissed back. "You had Angel and I worried, and even think Anna was worried about you too. And instead of staying put like Angel asked you to, you told him to pretty much piss off. That you were going to do what you wanted to do."
Wesley's eyes went big. He didn't remember that. All he could remember was that he said something to provoke Angel's anger and the next moment he was down on the floor. He buried his head in his shaking hands. "What exactly did I say?" He wanted to know everything.
The girl was happy to obey. She crossed her legs and leaned back on the bed. "Well, you wanted to go find the vampire. Angel said no that you were still in shock not to mention you were in La La Valiumland. But you still insisted. And you were pretty rude about it. You said Angel wouldn't let you go because he was afraid that what happened to Doyle could happen to you. And you said for him to stop comparing you to a dead man."
"I DID NOT!" Wesley shouted as he could feel his body becoming red again.
"You did. And that's when Angel said pretty much go back to bed or else you would be fired." She paused and glanced over to Wesley. He looked like he was about to fall foreword with the way he was hanging on her every word.
"AND?!" the man shouted again.
"And you said, "I quit." And that's when Angel punched you." She looked over to tray and picked up a plate full of food. With a smile she turned to Wesley, "Toast?"
He mumbled that he was not hungry. A sharp stomach growl argued that fact. Still Wesley refused the food. In the state he was in if he dared to swallow even the smallest of morsel his nerves would only make him throw it back up. He looked at the glass of water in his hands as Cordelia munched on a slice of toast with strawberry jam. She was never one to let food go to waste. Especially with what Angel was paying her, he owed her some free food. Silence drowned the room.
The girl stared off in the distance refusing to leave Wesley's side. Even if she hated to admit it she wanted to make sure that Wesley safe. She cared for him deeply. More so than the man realized. And if that meant she had to do the mother bear thing and sit by his side until he fell back to sleep so be it. Besides the phone lines were quiet and Angel's television was a lousy twelve-inch box. No cable and the VCR looked practically ancient. Knowing Angel it probably was. There was nothing better for her to do. She threw a glance over the young man whom still had his hands covering his face like a mask of embarrassment. He looked so helpless. She remembered Xander looking like that whenever Buffy was off doing some slaying and he was left behind for his safety. Cordelia remembered that she could not find the words to comfort Xander in his time of bruised ego. And now was no different. She chumped on her toast.
Except that you would make kissy face to distract him from his uselessness.
She thought of the kisses her and Wesley shared. That time seemed so far away as if it had never really happened. A fairy tale scene that never existed. She closed her eyes and wondered if she could bring herself to kiss Wesley in order to comfort him. She shoved the last remaining bit of toast into her mouth."Cordelia."
The girl shivered in shock and almost choked on her toast. She looked at the boy with puffed out cheeks full of toast. She looked like a hamster with her cheeks stuffed with food pellets.
Wesley raised his brows. Any other time he would have been laughing until tears streamed down his face. But now he could not find the right feelings in him to do so. His sad eyes glanced away from the girl's face. He drew his legs close like a scared child. "Cordelia, am I coward?"
Cordelia answered this with a fit of choking. She grabbed the glass of water from Wesley's hands and swigged it down. At that moment the phone screamed and Cordelia disappeared out of the room to answer it.
Wesley stared off in the distance with a scowl. She did not answer me because she doesn't want to hurt my feelings. He stumbled off the bed and headed towards the door. Cordelia, you fool, don't you know? My ego has been bruised so much already your simple words could not possibly do any more damage.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Detective Ingles surveyed the damage over Wesley's apartment. Even with what seemed like an endless parade of cops roaming about the room, covering up and tagging up evidence, it hard to ignore the horror that was the murder site. He swore that if he ever found Cully he was going to ram a stake through her heart. And if that didn't kill her then he was going to give her a Holy Water bath. She was only supposed to kill the schmuck that messed with her. Not this. A kid and old lady done up like an Icon. You are one sick monster, Cully. And I hope this schmuck you're after slices your head off.
A female detective walked up besides him and looked around. She pushed her blond hair away from her face and fingered the cross around her neck. The expression on her face unnerved Ingles. It was calm and docile like a Buddah statue, like she understood what was going on. She knew what the killer was and why she had done so.
"Detective Lockley," a young cop ran up to the woman with a clipboard in hand, "I need for you to sign this."
Lockely,
Ingles thought, The nutcase cop who is addicted to the occult? Jesus, if she knows about Cully and her kind… W-what if she can trace this murder back to me? But who is going to believe a vampire? Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into?_______________________________________________________________________________
Cordelia picked up the phone; "Angel Invest-" she stopped in mid sentence remembering that the Investigations was kaput. This was now her place. She stumbled over her words for a moment and finally settled on, "It's your quarter, speak."
The voice on the other end was soft and childlike. "Is this Angel Investigations?"
Cordelia began to curl the phone cord around her finger, "It was. Put right now it's under a new owner and it is currently a private residence."
"Oh," the voice whispered softly as if it was breaking into tears.
Cordelia stared into the receiver; "Can I help you, anyway?" Her voice was soft and concerned.
"My mom a few days ago was at your office," the voice whispered softly. There was an echo in the background as if she was either talking in a bathroom or an open loft. "She left a bag there. At least she thinks she did. May I come over after school and see if it is still there?"
"Are you Mrs. Madigan's kid?" the young woman asked as she began to look around the office for the bag the child spoke about.
There was a pause. "Yes." Another pause, "May I come over?"
Cordelia crawled under her desk. No bag. "Hey, your mom talked a lot about you. She showed me pictures and everything. How old are you, again?"
"Eleven."
"Funny," Cordelia said as she sat up. She banged her head against the desk and winced. Her thoughts composed themselves quickly, "I thought your mom said you were thirteen."
The voice on the other end sighed deeply. "She was wrong. She is a little eccentric like that."
Cordelia paused for a moment; "She didn't strike me that way. She seemed up and up."
"You don't know my mother. So, may I come over to the office and look inside?"
"Well, I don't see it. Are you sure she left it here?"
"She said she did," The voice skipped a beat. Cordelia could hear some whispering in the background. "It was a really small bag. It had a locket in it. A gold one from my grandfather. It's an heirloom. I know I could find it if I was just allowed to come over and check."
Suddenly something awoke in Cordelia's brain. Allowed to come over. The air escaped from her lungs in a quick gasp as she fell against the couch. "You're not Mrs. Madigan's kid, are you?"
The voice paused and let out a quiver. Then it piped right back up in a higher pitch, "What do you mean? I am her daughter."
"Then what is your name?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your name," Cordelia repeated in a deadpan voice. "What is your name?"
The voice on the other end remained dead.
"You're the vampire," Cordelia whispered as she grasped the receiver with both hands to her ear. She was trembling so much that holding the phone as such was the only thing preventing it from popping out of her hands. She swallowed the spit in her mouth and spoke. "I thought you were supposed to be male."
"Your friend hurt my boy," the voice on the other end hissed in a tone that was both young and old. "He burned my boy's face with Holy Water. Do you know what that is like? To be burned like that?" The voice paused but did not wait for an answer; "Wesley is going to find out."
Cordelia's body tensed up as her blood began to boil. "You stay away from Wesley." Suddenly she felt her body being pushed back and the receiver leaving her hands. Her eyes snapped up to see Wesley bringing the phone to his ear.
"Who is this?" he demanded in his thick accent.
The voice on the other end smiled when she heard the British clip. Her own accent dipped as she spoke, "If it isn't the man of the hour. I was just telling your girlfriend how you hurt my child. And once I get my hands on you-"
"You won't even get a chance," Wesley hissed back. His body began to shake but his voice remained as still as death. "I know what you are. I know your weaknesses. And I know how to kill you. " He closed his eyes and allowed his anger to slip out, "And I will do it." He slammed the receiver back onto the phone. He looked over at Cordelia who was still sitting on the couch with a frighten, lost lamb look on her face. He wondered if that was how he looked like when Angel found him last night. Shaking his head he started to head back towards Angel's apartment.
Cordelia rose to her feet, "Wes?" she went after him, "What are you doing?"
The man walked into the elevator and swung the door close. Cordelia managed to slip in before almost being pinned to the door. She grabbed at the young man's sleeve only for him to shrug her off. "Wes, speak to me."
The elevator stopped at the basement floor. The lift's door swung open. Wesley stormed out and raced up to Angel's weapon cabinet. There was a lock on it. No doubt done by Angel to prevent the young man from doing anything foolish like going after the vampire by himself. Wesley stared down at his barefeet and growled. Closing his eyes, he began to kick at the door. Cordelia screamed for him to stop. That not only was this insane and that he was going to mess up his feet but that cabinet was probably an antique. Still the door broke under the young man's eighth kick. He pulled away at the hinges and withdrew a battleaxe.
He sized it up in his hands. It was a nice weapon but not enough. He dove back into the cabinet and took out a smaller battleaxe and swung it around testing the weight.
"Wes, don't do this!" Cordelia yelled as she waved her arms. She looked around the room for something heavy to slam the young man over the head with. Maybe he would pass out and then she could tie him up. But there was nothing except for the few pillows on the bed. And what was she going to do then? Fluff Wesley to death? She turned back to the man who was now cocking a gun with wooden bullets. "Wes, please. You shouldn't go after the vampire by yourself."
The man froze for a moment and then smiled, "Fine then. Come with me."
"Are you nuts? We'll both be killed!"
The young man shrugged his shoulders and headed towards Angel's closet. He opened the doors and pulled a small shirt that would fit him better then the tent he had on. He peeled out of his clothing, which made Cordelia blush. She swirled around. "Angel is going to have such a fit. First his cabinet and now his good clothes."
"Can't do much about that," Wesley whispered as he slipped a belt around his waist, "My old clothes are all bloody. No time for the dry cleaners now." He smoothed out his shirt and put his weapons on.
"Wes, come on. Please, Angel is out there looking for the vampires. Let him do it."
"I don't need anyone looking over me like a nanny."
"But you don't know where they are!"
Wesley stopped and looked the girl in the eye. "No, but they know where I am. Which means they're near here. And if that means that I have to crawl into every crack and crevice this cesspool has to offer then so be it." With that he walked back into the elevator leaving Cordelia dazed.
The ride up was a somber quiet one. The seconds stretched on as Wesley felt his heart sink. He had to do this. He knew it. He couldn't depend on Angel to bail him out always like a child. Still. Wesley wished he could have seen his home one more time before he went out into the streets. Just one more time to walk up and down London. One more time to drink in a proper pub until the morning sun greeted you on your way out the door. One more time to say goodbye to his family. Just one more time.
He crossed himself in the way his Catholic mother taught him in secret. Away from the prying Protestant eyes of his father.
The elevator door opened up. Wesley gasped to see Cordelia barely stood two feet away from him with a stake in one hand and a crossbow in the other.
He found himself doing a stunned double take. His mouth broke out in a smile as a sliver of relief swept him. "You've decided to come?"
The girl groaned and then laughed at the whole absurdity of the situation. "Are you kidding?" She slipped the stake into her back pocket. "If I have a choice between staying here and trying to explain to Angel why I couldn't keep you put and us going to fight those vampires. I chose the less painful way and say let's go hunting."
The young man smiled softly. His eyes began to well up as the emotion of the scene overwhelmed him, "Thank you."
Cordelia groaned, "Aw, shut up and let's go." With a sly smile she then added, "And that's an order from your nanny."
END OF CHAPTER 7
