Descent - 9/16 Descent - 9/16

The intensity of the silence told her Angel was brooding again. Kate stepped into the living room and found him sitting on the floor, his back against her sofa, staring at the wall.

She suppressed the voice telling her, in the tones of a police academy instructor, to remove sharp objects from the room. But she had volunteered to take care of him, and right now, he needed some distraction.

"Cordelia and Wesley have gone to make an appearance for the detective, tell him how much they wish they could help his inquiries and what law abiding citizens they are. Then they're going to try and figure a way to break into Familiarity and steal some files."

The barest inclination of his head implied he'd heard.

"I'm going to meet them there at dusk ..." She looked at her watch. "... in about three hours."

Silence.

"Would you like to tell me about her?"

She crouched next to him and he looked at her briefly, then turned away again.

"I don't know if it's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure it's healthy for me to remember."

She sighed. "You can't bury the memories, Angel. You've had two hundred and fifty years to forget and they're still with you. It might help to share them."

He ignored her point and let his head fall forward onto his knees. His eyes were closed, which gave her an opportunity to study him. Flawless from a distance, his pale skin was equally unmarked close-up. Kate thought about her mother's old maxim, "it's our wrinkles that make us interesting" and wondered what drew her to this man. It must be something internal, since the surface was all perfection. "Or maybe," she mused, "Mom was just talking a load of crap."

An expensive, silver-grey sweater draped his arms and torso like fluid, before rippling in sinusoidal waves at his waist. Matt black trousers made of indeterminate fabric gave way to chunky but stylish black shoes, made to look good but be practical, although she suspected they wouldn't look that good after a few visits to the sewers. His arms were folded tightly across his chest, his legs were bent at the knee and his feet were slightly turned in. He reminded her of damaged children she'd seen as a police officer; still, introverted, quiet; having suffered too much already, they'd given up on their surroundings and on people.

"Are you looking at me?"

She looked up and found he hadn't moved.

"How d'you know?"

"Just a feeling."

"You look a little tense."

"You all think I'm going to lose it."

"Are you?"

"I hope not. But you're right. I am a little wound up. I should go kill some vampires."

Kate laughed. "Is that your remedy? Go and kill things?"

He gave her a glance. "You have a better one?"

"You need to relax, not wind yourself up even more."

"Yeah..." His mouth twisted. "I'm not good at relaxing."

"Allow me." She stood and allowed the blood to flow back through her legs again. Then offered him a hand. He regarded it dubiously for a moment before taking hold, and she pulled him up and indicated the couch.

"Face down please."

"What are you going to do?"

"Trust me." She grabbed his arm and pulled him around. "I've worked with plenty of people more uptight than you."

He did as he was told, and a few moments later she knelt by the side of the sofa and put her hands around his neck.

"Whatthe...hey!"

"Please don't try and make out my hands are too cold." She dug her thumbs into the corded muscles of his neck, and kneaded her way across one shoulder, back to the centre and across the other. Then she smoothed her fingers down his spine, digging into the gap between each bone and ignoring his protests. Once she reached his belt she pushed up again, massaging his lateral muscles, each tense mass melting in turn under her hands.

"This can't possibly help you know. My physiology isn't remotely like yours."

She ignored him. "Tell me about her."

He went silent, but his body fought back; as she massaged one spot, a defiant bulge leapt up in another. Finally, she gave up the decorous approach and clambered onto the sofa after him, straddling his hips and attacking on all fronts at once.

He levered himself up a few inches on his hands. "I don't find that relaxing, Kate..."

She pushed him back down and started to use all her weight to knead away at his back. After several minutes he sighed and his upper body seemed to deflate slightly as he yielded to her skill and sank into the sofa cushions.

"I'd never been with anyone like her before."

At last. She stopped pounding away and allowed her fingers to make small circles in the small of his back. "Was she pretty?"

"She was so beautiful. So perfect. If I ever think of or dream about twenty-first century woman, they're like she was, all those years ago. Scented. Soft. Flawless."

For a moment she closed her eyes and let his voice wash over her. Then she felt him move and when she looked, he had rolled over and lay on his back beneath her. Suddenly their relative positions were altered, from the potentially innocent to the blatantly sexual. He half sat up and she felt a jolt of electricity as his legs brushed against the inside of her thighs. He reached up to her head and ran his fingers through her hair.

"There's so much beauty these days. But it wasn't so commonplace then; there was too much disease and not enough food. But she was stunning by the standards of any age. She had honey-coloured hair and the most wonderful blue eyes. Like yours."

She blushed, in spite of herself. "Thank-you."

"Sometimes you felt you could submerge yourself and float away in the blueness. Sometimes they were like needles of ice, growing into you. When she first looked at me, they were so cold and empty, I was almost frightened. But then we spoke and for some reason I never fathomed, she liked me. And her eyes just... glittered."

"Did you love her?"

"I was dirt on her shoes. That's the truth. And class and money didn't come into it. I was an unprincipled, drunken lout, out for what I could get. She was... an extraordinary human being. Educated, intelligent, spirited..."

"That doesn't exactly answer my question."

"I don't know. She was like a different species. Can you love someone like that? I was in awe."

She reached forward and brushed the skin of his jaw. "My mother always said..."

Angel shivered. Fighting a sudden impulse to warm him with her body, Kate instead climbed down to sit on the floor, taking up the spot he'd vacated.

"... never mind." She cursed herself inwardly. What was she thinking? Jumping the poor guy's bones was not going to help.

He joined her, and after a moment's consideration, she lifted his arm over her head. He allowed her to manhandle him until she'd tucked him against her hip, and they sat, backs to the sofa, side to side and leg to leg. His arm draped comfortably over her shoulders, his elbow rested on the sofa seat and his hand fell forward onto her chest.

"Comfortable?"

"Yes."

Kate picked a stale donut from the box Wesley had left behind, and tore it in half. She offered one piece to Angel, who shook his head, and she took a large bite, mumbling through the dough, "So go on. I've got you and nothing bad is going to happen. Go ahead and remember."

Across town, Cordelia and Wesley strolled down the steps of station 3/10. Wesley was the first to speak.

"Shall we walk? It's just a few steps."

Cordy nodded and they set out in the direction of Familiarity.

"Well, that was quite an experience!" Wesley exclaimed, as soon as they were a decent distance from the station.

"Yeah! Interviewed by Los Angeles' finest in the comfort of a soundproofed cell. Not to be missed."

"They do nice tea. Strong, not too milky."

"The tea was good. And then there's the exquisite comedy of the 'would you like to call a lawyer' moment. Yessir, we would. But sadly, we're unable to find a lawyer that will take us on. Perhaps you could have one flown in from another dimension. Or Canada, whichever is easiest for you."

"I had a chum at Oxford who went into the law."

Cordy raised her eyebrows.

"Specialised in the finer points of English manorial covenants, though. Probably not much use to us."

The stone facade of the office building shared by Familiarity and several other companies came into view.

"So ..." Cordy rummaged in her purse, "... how d'you want to do this?"

"I reckon there's three entrances. This one, the one at the side and there'll be a fire escape around the back. What do you think?" Wesley turned to find Cordy wearing her largest, horn-rimmed, fake spectacles.

"Oh God. What are you now?"

Cordy's face fell. She tapped on her glasses. "I'm a woman with no social life. I'm compiling my family tree during the long winter evenings. Can't you tell?"

Wesley sighed, "Well, I do get confused between some of your more subtle disguises. Something to do with them all involving a large pair of spectacles. Kate said..."

"Never mind what Kate said." Cordy squared her shoulders and looked towards the front entrance. "This is going to work! And if it doesn't, we can come back later, with Kate, and do the breaking and entering thing." She looked back at Wesley. "You should go and check in at the hotel. Gunn'll be waiting."

Wesley spluttered, "I'm not leaving you here!"

"Don't be silly. I'm just going in to case the joint. I'll pick up a leaflet and if anyone's asking too many questions, I'll say I've changed my mind and leave. What could be simpler?"

Wesley could think of a number of things, but by the time he'd formulated a response, she was gone.