There's a difference between pleasing someone and making them happy. Cherri understands this.
However much hell-righteous satisfaction Cherri can derive from blowing up the old snake's stupid airships or sending the deceitful soul of a slimy ex-executive sky-high, it doesn't really match the quiet contentment of a sleepover with Angie.
And she ain't a saint, neither is the spider, but for all the indulgences they share she knows when Angel needs her to (even if he doesn't want her to) keep the next baggie away, and hold him shuddering and sobbing through the comedown.
You only feel good when you've got no pain - but sometimes blocking it out ends up making it worse.
There's a difference between pleasing someone and making them happy.
Cherri sees how Angie brags of his prolific encounters with various Johns (or the way he hunches after time with that rat bastard); in contrast to his soft, unguarded inflections divulging his milkshake date with the Hotel's feline bartender.
She's felt it herself – if she's not ready to fully admit it – the distinction between those past one-night stands, and Molly brushing back Cherri's fringe to tuck a scarlet blossom behind her ear, smiling all the while.
A/N:
More Cherri & Angel friendship, with hints of Huskerdust and Mollybomb (feat. useless lesbian Cherri).
At this point I think I've given up the pretence of trying to write precise-length drabbles. Still trying to round the word count to multiples of 5, but 200-word flash fics seem to be what I default to now.