Tremble2

:: Tremble ::

by Rachel

Tremble: Part 2

He was still awed by the shaker. Not nearly lasting as long as it had seemed, it had been remotely mild and had lasted maybe only forty-five seconds. Angel ran a hand through his hair and walked through the mottled hotel lobby. He up righted a tall plant stand, avoiding stepping in the spilt soil surrounding it, then continued on, inspecting the damaged floor.

Cordelia followed closely, eyeing the ceiling and the suddenly dangerous skylight within. Angel paused before the light, and glanced at her.

"I'll check," She said quietly. He stood there, waiting, while she treaded delicately forward, into the sunlight, and looked down at the floor. About six tiles would need to be replaced, but that was all. Cordelia glanced up at the high windows, almost afraid of getting any closer to the door, but she had to go up and look, and so she went forward very carefully; holding her breath as if a single sigh might trigger an avalanche of glass.

She knew it was silly, but still…

"What's it look like outside?" Angel asked.

"Huh? Oh…" Cordelia stepped closer to the large front glass doors. With a quick peek, she could see that traffic was still moving smoothly. Pedestrians, however, had all moved further out onto the sidewalk and were glancing this way and that, apprehensively giving the once over to nearby buildings and any possible hidden dangers. Nothing seemed to be broken or crumbled or burning on fire.

"Everything looks okay," She said. He folded his arms and she turned and started back towards him. "Still want to stay here?" She asked.

"Um…" Angel glanced about, shyly.

"Yeah, thought so." Cordelia smirked. "Better gather some things…spare clothes, spare blood… You're coming to my place."

"I am, am I?"

"Yep." Cordelia smiled, self-assured. "Wes and Gunn are out on that weird guy weekend fishing trip thing…why, I still don't get," (Angel smirked now) "…and I'm all alone, well, unless you count Dennis, which I do, in which case I am NOT alone…but then, he's not there in the flesh, so, yeah, physically, I am alone… And you're all alone! And this place is…old. And my place is…less old; therefore I'm sure its more earthquake safe. So…it's obvious that the only logical place for you to be is with me at my place…unless you want to rent a motel room, but being a night stalker and all, I'd doubt you'd want to do that."

"You know, I resent that,"

"Noted—But it's true, isn't it? And Angel…I kinda don't want to be alone, okay? So… you're going to stay with me."

It was a command, not a question. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile, and Angel couldn't hide it. He let his arms drop and sighed.

"Of course."

Cordelia grinned. "Great!!! Now…let's get your things, and get the hell out of here."

"Cordelia! I'm only staying for a few days, not a few weeks!"

"I know that!" Cordelia snapped, yanking yet another black shirt from it's hanger in his closet. Angel sat on the corner of his bed lacing up his boots. Cordelia had taken the liberty of raiding his closet, deciding what he would need, and what he wouldn't, and deciding he needed far more than he really did. She shoved his outerwear into a bag, and then started towards his drawers.

"Where's your underwear?" She asked.

Angel blushed. "Um, I think I can handle my own underwear!" He said. Cordelia didn't look amused.

"Well, hurry up then!" She said sternly. "We've got to get out of here before another quake hits!"

"Cordelia, it's not going to—"

"SSH! Don't say it! You'll jinx it!"

"Geez, okay! Sorry…"

"Fine," She said shoving the bag into his arms. "You get your underwear, I'll pack up your bathroom stuff. And then we'll gather your blood supply and scram. Let's try to make it out within the next ten minutes,"

"Whatever you say, boss."

She scowled. "Hey, it's your ass I'm trying to save, not mine. If you want to stay here—"

Angel held up his hand and bowed his head in surrender. "Sorry, you're right, you're right,"

"Good." Cordelia's perfectly shaped brow arched in a familiar air of arrogance. But she smiled anyway and clasped her hands. "Now lets go! We don't have all day."

She disappeared into his bathroom, and Angel listened as she bustled around in his cabinets. He quickly went over to his underwear drawer and quietly shoved his underwear into his bag. His quick action wasn't out of urgency however…he just didn't want her to see them. He then grabbed some socks, and by the time he was done, Cordelia was reemerging from the bathroom and directing him back downstairs. A few pints of blood, and they were on their way.

"Almost there," Cordelia said over her shoulder.

"Good," Angel muttered.

He wasn't happy, crouched down in the back of his convertible, hood up, with a blanket over his head. Cordelia let a slip of a grin slide out but kept her eyes on the road.

They had been listening to the radio on the way; there hadn't been any reports of injury, and not much major damage…mostly there were a few of the older housing projects being evacuated in case of structural damage. Apparently the earthquakes hadn't been as strong as Cordelia had thought. A 4.5 at 7:32 this morning, the announcer had said. It sure felt bigger than that. But the epicenter had been about twenty miles away so it hadn't even hit them that hard. And then a dozen or so aftershocks occurred all over the Southland, and then another separate earthquake (the one they had felt together at the hotel), a 5.1, at 8:52; the epicenter merely ten miles away.

"Who makes up those ratios anyway?" Cordelia asked aloud while they sat stopped at a stoplight.

"Seismologists," Angel said. "And the Richter scale."

Cordelia rolled her eyes but didn't say the DUH that hung on her tongue. The light turned green and they started moving again.

"Do you think Wes and Gunn are okay out there?"

"Safer out there then they are in the city," Angel answered. He cringed at the heat infiltrating his blanket as the car moved out of the shade of a block of buildings and past an empty lot. "Could you speed it up!" He said. He shuffled out of a blade of light. A swirl of smoke rose up from the blanket and Cordelia winced.

"Sorry!" She turned at a corner and pressed down slightly on the accelerator. "Only a few more blocks."

"Just hurry."

Luckily, Cordelia lived in a building that offered underground parking and elevator access into her building. Angel was safe from the sunlight and they carried his things up to her floor.

"Oh great," Cordelia muttered as they stepped out of the elevator and approached her apartment at the end of the hallway.

"What?" Angel asked quietly, leaning in to listen.

"Old Mrs. Feitlemeyer…she's so nosey."

Angel made a quiet little "o" and followed closely beside. They came to the old woman, standing in her hallway with a thin pink leash dangling from her arm, and an ugly, little dog at the end of it. She scowled at the duo as they started to walk past her.

"Afternoon, Miss Chase." She said.

"Hello."

"Did you feel the earthquake this morning?"

"Yeah."

"At first I thought it was coming from your apartment…Whose your man friend?"

"Just a friend…" Cordelia rolled her eyes, her face turning slightly red.

"Oh."

"Hello," Angel said politely.

"You sure have a lot of man friends," Mrs. Feitlemeyer continued, ignoring Angel's attempt at pleasantries and staring brazenly at her young neighbor. Cordelia heaved a sigh and kept on walking. Angel however, turned back to stare at the old woman. Then her old dog started growling and snipping and Angel looked down at it. The old lady yanked back the leash, and with a yelp, the little dog was pulled back away from Angel's feet. "Always got man friends…" She then repeated. Angel heard Cordelia mutter an obscenity under her breath. "I, myself, like that young English boy. Don't care for the other one though…"

"Other one?" Angel asked, turning back to Cordelia. They'd almost reached her door.

"Gunn." She said flatly. "I think it's an intolerance thing…" She eyed him, conveying her disgust.

"I see."

Cordelia unlocked her door and walked in. Angel followed.

"Good bye Miss Chase, nice to see you again,"

"Yeah, I'm sure!" Cordelia called back and slammed the door. "Oh, that woman!"

Angel paused in the safety of the enshadowed entryway while Cordelia went forward and dropped the bag she had carried in onto the sofa. She walked around to all the windows, sure to close the blinds. Dennis helped. When it was safe, Angel walked over to the breakfast counter and set his things down. He turned slightly, glancing at her and smiled.

"She's old."

"She's decrepit!"

"She's set in her ways."

"She's a menace!"

"Maybe so…don't let her bother you,"

"I don't!" Cordelia walked back to the sofa and retrieved his bag. Angel entered the kitchen and opening the refrigerator, stored away his food supply. "How did you deal with it?" Cordelia asked from the other room.

"What?" He asked, pausing briefly in his task.

"The way people were back in her hay-day," She sighed and started towards the bedroom, inspecting the apartment as she went. There seemed to be no damage from the latter quake, although if anything had fallen, Dennis would have picked it up already.

"Well," Angel started. He'd finished putting away his blood then came out into the living room. He followed her voice to her bedroom where she was busy hanging up his clothes. "You don't have to do that," He said.

"Eh," She shrugged. "I don't want them to get wrinkled. I'll put them in my closet…" She paused when she turned around. Her own closet had been packed full. "Or maybe the hall closet." She said. Angel shrugged indifferently. "Dennis! Will you clear some space in the hall closet please!"

The sound of things being pushed around and moved resounded from behind the closed closet door. After a moment, the door opened and his clothes started to float into it. Cordelia smiled.

"Thanks Dennis." She glanced at Angel. "He's the best roommate, LIKE EVER."

Angel smiled, amused. "I bet."

Cordelia glanced at the clock.

"Wow, you must be exhausted," She said. She looked at Angel. It was almost 9:30. The vamp never rose before noon unless there was an emergency…but most emergencies happened after the sun went down, so that was like, hardly ever.

Angel rubbed a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I am."

"Well, you can sleep in here, I think I'm going to nap on the couch."

"I'll sleep on the couch." Angel said.

"Nah…I'm going to watch the news for a little while. And besides, I'm smaller. I can fit better. It's fine…" She turned to leave. Angel started to slip off his coat. "Oh! I think later I'm going to go check out the office, you know, make sure its still there…"

"Well, wake me. I'll go with you."

"Okay. I'll wait until a decent hour though…" Cordelia smiled. "Dusk, maybe. We should both be rested enough by then."

"Okay."

"Kay…Goodnight."

"Night."

She turned and left, closing the door behind her. Angel sighed and finished removing his coat. He slipped off his shoes, threw off his shirt, ditched his belt, then slid into bed. This was not his natural hour at all and at this moment, the sheets felt heaven-sent.

He cuddled into the pillow, noting it smelled sweet, like shampoo…like Cordelia, then closed his eyes. This was nice. Not his own bed, but comfortable all the same. He started to drift off into a deep sleep.

But then Cordelia came in and woke him up.

"Sorry!" She cringed, when he sat up in a stupor. He rubbed his eyes.

"It's okay…"

"I just needed to get a few things," She quickly went over to the dresser and opening a drawer, pulled out a pair of pajamas, much like the ones she had woken up in that morning. She made a last stop to grab her bathrobe and slippers from the adjoining bathroom then with a smile, left back out into the living room.

As the door pulled shut, Angel sighed again, lay back down, and was out.

Cordelia crossed over to the couch, where she quickly changed her clothes. She tossed her robe over the sofa arm, left her slippers at the floor beneath the coffee table, then propped a few throw pillows to the side, and laid down, pulling a lavender handmade afghan over her. She picked up the remote and flicked on the TV, turning the sound down low.

She watched, her eyes growing heavy at each passing second; first the local news about the earthquakes, and then the weather report. The air conditioner flicked on and she looked up and sighed at Dennis. It was already cool in here, but anytime there was a remote possibility that the temperature might rise somewhere near room level, he turned the air conditioner on. Ghosts and cold; they went hand in hand Cordelia supposed. Too bad it was a bitch every third of the month when she got her electric bill. She rolled her eyes and lay back, snuggling into the pillow, and falling asleep.

A few minutes later, Dennis flicked off the TV, and disappearing into his secret void, the only the movement throughout the dark apartment was the stirring whirl of cool air from the a/c.

Early afternoon.

Angel awoke to a horrible shaking. 'Another one,' He thought, getting to his feet. He opened the bedroom door and stumbled out into the living room. Cordelia had just sat up, shaken awake and eyes wide. Before she even turned to look at Angel, it stopped. Both of them sighed.

"I am SO SICK OF THIS!" She said in aggravation. She slumped back against the couch.

Angel grumbled in agreement and went towards the kitchen. His stomach was growling and he decided to give up any future attempts at sleep for a snack.

"Are you hungry?" He asked gruffly as he prepared his own meal.

Cordelia frowned and focused on her empty stomach.

"A little," She sighed.

"I can make you something,"

Cordelia nodded and rose, slipping on her slippers, and shuffled over to the breakfast counter. She climbed up on a stool and leaning her chin on her hand, looked past the counter at Angel. He stood there in front of the open refrigerator, digging past her junk food for fresh eggs and milk…with his shirt off.

Cordelia perked up.

"Is breakfast okay?" He asked, glancing back at her.

"Huh?"

"Breakfast…eggs, toast, is that okay?"

"Oh," She frowned. "Yeah! Yeah, sure, of course! Whatever you wanna make…you're the cook."

"But you have to eat it," He said, picking out a few things and setting them next to the sink.

"Angel…you know its not often that I get a home cooked meal, so whatever you want…" She yawned. "It's good for me."

"Okay," He said.

In no time at all he was whipping up something that smelled all too good. 'I could get used to this,' She thought. Cordelia leaned eagerly over the counter, leaning to the side, watching him cook. Her eyes would wander every now and then up to the black lined tattoo inked into the pale skin on the back of his shoulder, and she caught herself wondering how much it had hurt…or even if it had hurt at all.

She'd never really gotten that good a look at it. Anytime she'd seen him without his shirt on, he'd been injured and bleeding, usually with some sort of sharp metal object sticking into or out of him, and she'd been busy working at trying to patch him up.

"You don't have any scars," She said absentmindedly. Angel glanced back at her.

"Huh?"

Cordelia sat up straight, not realizing she'd said it out loud. "You don't have any scars…from being impaled or stabbed or anything."

"Oh," He turned down the flame as he stirred a mixture of vegetables, ham and eggs with a spatula in a pan. "I heal too quickly for that, I guess. I don't have a chance to get scars."

"I have one," She sighed, leaning back on her hand and thinking back to when she'd been impaled. Now that had hurt! But she had never quite decided what had hurt more…the actual impaling, or the events that led up to the impaling…

Angel looked up at her. She caught his brown eyes on her, and looked away.

"I would've seen a plastic surgeon about getting it cleared up," She sighed. "But by then I was broke, so…"

"You would've seen a plastic surgeon over a scar?" Angel asked. He turned off the range and holding the pan over a large plate, flipped it over and scooped the contents out onto it. Cordelia leaned forward hungrily, eyeing it and waiting impatiently. It was a perfect omelet. Everything she cooked always came out half burnt…

"Well, it's a really ugly scar," She explained. "I'm lucky I can still wear a bathing suit, if I wear a little sarong thingy over it. It covers half my stomach."

Angel paused, thinking to himself if he'd ever seen it. Cordelia's voice brought him back.

"Gosh, that smells good."

He pushed the plate in front of her, passed her the salt and pepper, then made her two slices of toast.

Cordelia ate happily, 'Mmming' in appreciation.

Angel leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he drank the contents of his mug, freshly nuked in the microwave, watching her from over its rim until she'd eaten every last bite.

She dropped her fork and smiled, chewing the last of her food. She sipped down the last of her coffee, reheated in the coffeepot from earlier that morning, and then got up to clean up her mess.

"I'll do that," Angel offered.

"No," Cordy said, pushing past him in the small space of the kitchen. "You're a guest."

"I'm an inconvenience," He said, taking her dirty plate from her unsuspecting hand.

"You're not an inconvenience!"

"Well, still…I'm staying here for a few days, I should do my fair share."

"Fair share of what???" She asked, taking the plate back.

"Cleaning. Household chores."

"What are we? A married couple??? Besides, that's what Dennis is for." Cordelia dumped the plate into the sink and then turned on the faucet. Angel frowned. She was so stubborn…He picked up a clean dishrag and started wiping down the counters. Cordelia paused to give him a dirty glare, then smiled. Angel raised his brow at her and continued his task. Together they cleaned up; Cordelia washed, Angel dried, and Dennis put away the dishes.