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THE OTHER HALF LIVES
by Yahtzee
Yahtzee63@aol.com
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PART TWO
"What has gotten into you today?" Angel said.
"Excuse me?" Wesley said.
Angel leaned out of the door to his office; Wesley looked up innocently at him from his place
behind the desk. "Well, yesterday, you were the one who wanted to learn more about Velga
demons before we went in. And that's information we definitely could've used I admit that."
"We got through all right, didn't we?"
"This time, sure. But they're still out there. And you can't seem to crack a book today."
Wesley shrugged. "I'm sorry, Angel. I'm -- distracted -- this morning."
Angel raised an eyebrow; he didn't often indulge in teasing his friends and employees, but
sometimes the urge was irresistible. "And how have you been distracted? Let's see." He held up
his hands and counted off on his fingers. "First, you had to go get Cordelia's favorite kind of
coffee because we'd run out. Second, you picked up her dry cleaning because she said she was
running late. Then you helped her run lines for that chewing gum commercial. And now that she's off on the audition, you're sitting at her desk with an expression some people might describe as glazed."
"Your point being?" Wesley's voice was distant, but he was smiling faintly.
"No point," Angel said. "I just noticed."
"Do you think Cordelia has?" Wesley asked, suddenly serious.
Angel paused. "Couldn't say." Privately, he was very sure she had, but very unsure of how she
was reacting. "Anyway, we're not going Velga-demon hunting tonight. So, don't worry about it."
"Really?"
"Sure." Angel briefly thought back to his first days of infatuation with Buffy; he had been unable
to do anything besides think of her, of all the help she so desperately needed, of the way her eyes
looked when she glanced up at him in the night --
He knew his face had fallen, and he tried to shake off the threatening gloom; Wesley, however,
had not noticed. "Thanks, Angel. If it's all right with you, I think I'll head down to the boardwalk.
I haven't been to the beach in a while."
"Last night wasn't your idea of a trip to the beach?"
"Well, I -- " Wesley seemed very flustered, even for Wesley. Then he shrugged. "Let's say it's
been a while since I went for the fun of it."
"And going to the frappuccino stand Cordelia likes counts as the fun of it?"
"That's the most fun of all." Wesley replied.
"Go," Angel said, waving his friend out the door.
"It was so unfair," Cordelia groused, slipping off her sandals. "I mean, I care about Winta-Mint as much as anyone, right?"
Dennis was silent, which Cordelia decided to interpret as agreement.
"I was cool and fresh. Just like the call sheet said. And they hired this little blonde thing. Maybe I should dye my hair."
Some magazines slid off the coffee table. "Okay, okay. I wasn't serious. You don't have to tear up
the place to make a point." Cordelia paused. "Then again, maybe you do. Anyway, I'm just glad
the day is over, and we can spend a wild and crazy Friday night watching ER."
The phone rang; Cordelia actually jumped, then sighed at the thought that her phone rang so
seldom the sound could startle her. "Oh, I am on a non-stop flight to Loserville, with connecting
service to Spinsterhood," she sighed as she picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Cordelia?"
"Wesley -- hey,' Cordelia said, surprised at the smile she could feel spreading across her face. "If this is another pep talk, really, I'm okay. I'm moving on from the Winta-Mint."
"You're sure? You were awfully blue this afternoon."
"Nope, I'm good. Gone through the denial, the anger, the bargaining. I'm all the way to
acceptance now. Well, acceptance with a little bitching." Cordelia said. The walls started
pounding, and she quickly cupped one hand over the phone. "Phantom Dennis!" she hissed. "We
are getting to ER soon, I promise. Just be patient!"
"Good for you," Wesley said. "But, actually, I was calling about something else. I was wondering
if -- maybe -- you wanted to go out tomorrow evening. Dinner, drinks. You know."
Yeah, I know, Cordelia thought. Dinner, drinks, DATE. With Wesley. The guy with whom I had
the most disastrous first kiss in human history. Word-Puzz Man. The guy who always falls down
when he tries to rescue me. The guy who always tries to rescue me. The guy who said "Winta-Mint? Is that new?" about 81 times this afternoon, because he was trying to help me out.
The guy who really wasn't such a bad kisser the last time we tried --
Slowly, unable to believe she was saying the words, Cordelia answered, "I -- I know. That
sounds great."
"Really?" Wesley said, as startled as she was. But he seemed to pull himself together quickly.
"Well, then, I'll come by for you -- what do you say? Eight?"
"Perfect," Cordelia said. "Am I going to have to ride on the back of that motorcycle of yours?"
"Apparently that's all I've got," Wesley said.
"I know that," Cordelia said. "I don't mind, really. It's kinda Wild Bunchy. Just affects my
hairstyle choices."
"I'm not putting you on the bike without a helmet," Wesley said sternly. "So plan accordingly."
"Overprotective much?"
"When it comes to you, I guess I am."
Cordelia couldn't think of anything to say to that at first; finally, she just managed to get out, "See you then."
"Good night," Wesley said, then hung up the phone.
Cordelia curled up in a ball on the sofa and hugged her knees to her chest. She and Wesley
couldn't be doing this. Could they?
Dennis began dumping out the spice rack, one spice at a time.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Jealousy is so unattractive."
Angel was running.
He could get away if he just ran a little faster. But he couldn't run faster; he could barely run at all, his feet felt as though they were made of stone, but he kept trying.
The gypsies were shouting after him, surrounding him, driving him toward the boardwalk with the help of the Velga demons, and he knew it, and he couldn't do anything about it, and they would curse him for sure --
But didn't he need the curse?
Angel froze in place, confused, caught between past and present, dream and reality, when the
mother Velga demon stepped out of the shadows and said --
"Wake up!"
Angel opened his eyes. Cordelia stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed. "What's with this? Are you planning in staying in bed all day?"
"Well, yeah," Angel said. "Don't I always?"
"Not today," Cordy said. "Today you have to help me."
"Are you in trouble?" Angel pushed himself out of bed and ran a hand through his hair.
"No. Well, not the way you mean."
Cordelia sat down on the foot of the bed and frowned, obviously troubled. Angel sat patiently,
waiting for her to find the right words. He realized dimly that he was only wearing a pair of boxer shorts; once, this would have embarrassed him and Cordelia both. Now it barely seemed worth noticing.
"Wesley and I are going out tonight," she said.
"A date?" Angel raised an eyebrow.
"A date date. Me and Wesley. He asked me, and I want to go, but -- "
"But you're worried."
"Yeah," she sighed. "I mean, we got all hyped up about each other last time, and then it went
nowhere. Which really isn't the point; I mean, I hardly knew him then. Not like I do now."
"So your history with him isn't the problem," Angel said. After a long pause, he said the name he so seldom spoke anymore: "Doyle. This is about Doyle."
Cordelia nodded and looked down at her hands in her lap. Angel reached out and covered them
with his own. "I don't think he'd want you to be alone forever."
"It's not that. Not only that, anyway," Cordelia said. "Me and Doyle -- we got cheated of our
chance. Cheated ourselves of a lot of it, I guess. But I've got to accept that. You have to move on."
"You've always been resilient."
"But this -- I mean, here's Wesley, working with us, just like Doyle used to do. And he's in danger all the time, like Doyle was. I don't think I could handle having it all happen again."
"Cordelia," Angel said, "there's no such thing as love without risk."
"Love?" Cordelia jumped up as if she had received an electric shock, then folded her hands across her chest. "Who said anything about love? This is just a date. A first date. It could all go kablooey and not mean anything besides the most awkward Monday morning in the history of Angel Investigations."
Angel held his hands up as if in surrender. "Didn't mean to jump the gun. I just mean -- " He
paused, considering exactly what he did mean. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "If you
have a chance to be with someone you care about, you should take it. Not everybody gets that."
Cordelia was quiet for a moment, then quickly hugged him. "All right. No fear."
"That's more like it," Angel said as Cordy began walking toward the door.
"Oh, one more thing," Cordelia said as she paused at the elevator. "Phantom Dennis is feeling a
little neglected. He really made a mess last night. I was thinking maybe you could come by and
hang with him for a bit this evening. Talk dead guy to dead guy. Cheer him up some."
Angel smiled a little; before Cordelia, no one would ever have thought of him as the ideal
candidate to cheer someone up. After Cordelia -- "I think I can do that."
END PART TWO