Descent - 10/16

Descent - 10/16

"And so, after Uncle Albert died, I just came up against a block. You know? He was my source, and my inspiration." Cordelia sighed and took off her glasses to wipe away a tear. "He was a dear man."

"I see." The man from customer services was being very helpful. "Well, if I could just get a few details. Ms...?"

"I can't tell you my name." Cordelia shook her head firmly.

"That's going to make tracing your family a little challenging, Ma'am."

"Not on the first visit. You understand, I have to be assured, before we go any further, that your security procedures are up-to-scratch."

"All our client files are completely confidential."

"Really?" Cordelia smiled. "That's so reassuring. You know, the press are so... so... they're vultures, is what they are."

"The press are involved?"

"They'd like to be. But despite the large inheritance, I'm a very private person, Mr..." she peered at his name badge, "Kolinsky. Very private. Is that Russian?"

"Czech, Ma'am. I have distant relatives there."

Cordy smiled, "That's nice. And you research overseas? You're not restricted to the US?"

The door swung open and a second member of customer service team looked into the office. "Call for you, man, shall I put it through?"

"No, I'll come and take it." Mr Kolinsky stood up. "If you'll excuse me for a moment Ma'am, I think this is probably a private matter."

As soon as he was gone, Cordelia leapt up and opened the door. The corridor was quiet, so she slipped out and walked to the end of it, looking at the name-plates on each door. Finally she found the one she was looking for.

Gerard Philips
Manager

A large post-it note was affixed above it, with "Lilah Morgan" written in thick blue ink.

Cordy knocked timidly and when no answer came, she turned the handle. The door wasn't locked. On the office desk sat three files. Cordy tsked and shook her head. "So much for client confidentiality."

Across town, Angel watched Kate demolish a whole donut and lick the red filling and crumbs from her fingers. When she'd finished, he drew her a little closer. The air around him was full of the heavy smell of caramelised sweetness and the scent of her hair, and he permitted himself to enjoy it, and remember.

The problem was, he remembered everything too well. It was a curse.

He remembered the first time she sent for him. Racing through the fields, arriving at the appointed place early, windswept, his chest heaving. He expected her to make an entrance as ladies were prone to do, but she didn't, and after strolling around the barn for fully twenty minutes, smoothing his clothes, kicking mud off his boots and trying to straighten his hair without a mirror, there was an explosion of laughter from above him. She'd climbed into the hay loft to watch him make a fool of himself and finally couldn't contain herself any longer.

He was in two minds whether to make a run for it, but she saw how mortified he was, and became instantly sorry. She coaxed him up the ladder after her, whispering tenderness in languages he'd never heard spoken before. She removed her cloak and spread it out over the hay so he wouldn't be prickled, gently pushed him back to sit on it, removed his boots and his coat, and he soon got over his chagrin.

Once the hard work of smoothing his ruffled feathers was over, she became very still. She invited him with her voice, her eyes, but she made no further move to entice him. It was he who eventually reached across and drew her down beside him on the cloak.

"I remember everything. Everything we did. Everything I felt. Everything I wanted. Like it was happening here and now."

He bent over her, pausing for a moment to savour the peculiar and changeful blueness of her eyes, azure darkening with want to forget-me-not, before he kissed her. Softly at first, taking the sugar from her lips, then demanding access to her mouth and sweeping aside her murmured rationalisations with his tongue. She was shaking, but his steady hands pulled her close, held her gently, and stroked her fears away.

Achingly slow, he pressed her down and revelled in the feel of her body cushioning his. Then, wanting to taste the tender skin of her throat, he released her mouth and put a hand down on the carpet to brace himself. That was when she spoke.

"Angel..."

Faint alarm bells went off in Angel's head. Something was very, very wrong with his memory.

Sugar?

Carpet?

And shouldn't his name be Liam?

He opened his eyes and found himself on top of a slightly breathless Kate.

"Kate... oh God." Angel cursed inwardly. How could he have? Why did she let him? Or had he forced her? He pushed himself away and rolled over onto his back.

"It's OK..."

"I'm sorry. I got a bit..."

"Carried away? Well, at least you're not in awe of me, huh? Because, heaven knows, that would never do."

"It... it won't happen again."

"What if I wanted it to?"

Angel had to think about her words for several moments before their meaning became clear. When light dawned, he still hardly believed it, but then he saw she was blushing furiously and nervously picking imaginary fluff off the carpet. He sighed. "That would be... unbelievable. But..."

"But?" she smiled, but her face became even redder. "Funny how there's always a 'But'. It's OK. I thought... but I got it wrong. It doesn't matter. Friends is good. Friends is probably a better idea."

She started to move away. Angel made the transformation from responsible cursed vampire with a soul in the balance, to inner child about to be denied satisfaction, as suddenly as if a switch had been flicked within him. He caught her arm and brought her back down heavily onto his chest. He kept her there, and they kissed until her heart was pounding so hard, the tremor transmitted through their pressed flesh and shook his own.

"Oh, Katie..." He rested his cool brow against her hot, damp forehead. "Us being friends. I think we missed that boat some while ago. Don't you?"

"I don't think it was ever scheduled to stop here, that particular boat."

Angel smiled at her underhand acknowledgement of the chemistry between them, and she blushed again and said quietly, "So, what did you mean? What's the 'But'?"

"There's something we need to talk about... to do with me being a vampire, and..."

She groaned and swung a leg over him, rising to straddle his lap. "You know, your physiology doesn't feel all that different to me right now." She grabbed the neck of his expensive sweater and pulled him up to her. He came willingly, wrapping his arms around her waist and bringing her body as close to his as he could manage. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back as he touched his lips to the base of her throat, and then whispered, "Talk details later. Kiss me again."

He was doing just that when Cordelia arrived.