The Road Before Us

The Road Before Us

By Misty Flores - mistiec_flores@yahoo.com

Rating: R - for violence, sexual situations, and some language

Genre: Angel/Cordelia - Buffy/Angel and Cordelia/Xander implied

Teaser: Years after the death of their true loves, a lonely Cordelia and Angel reunite to stop a new nemesis, and find themselves fighting a mutual attraction as they cling to the memories of their mortal lovers.

Disclaimer: Buffy/Angel are owned by Joss Whedon and the WB. the Highlander Concept is owned by Rysher Ent. No infringement intended.

Crossover: Sorta. Highlander - but honestly, only the concept is taken, you don't need to know the show or the characters. If any are used, they are introduced as one would introduce OC's. This is a BTVS/Angel story, after all.

Notes: I wasn't exactly sure which I should post this in, Buffy or Angel. The story contains Angel concepts and themes, but is written as an AU- taken directly after the proceedings in Season Two Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Spoilers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season Two - Angel concepts are introduced.

Series - The Winters Trilogy - but you don't have to read it to get it. Noted, those two stories are both Cordelia/Xander and Buffy/Angel - this story does NOT diminish that. But just so you don't get lost - better yet, just read. All your questions will - hopefully - be answered.

Personal Archive - Stoic Simplicity at www.wolverineandrogue.com/mistiec

--

Chapter Two

*note - Katherine was introduced and seen in one episode of Highlander.

--

Katherine was once a slave, once a peasant, once married.

She had had her own personal vendetta against another Immortal, had died and reawakened and done the entire quickening, saving the world bit.

When it was all said and done, Katherine really only had one serious conclusion regarding her life.

She was tired of it.

Immortality was high overrated, and the immense irony of the entire situation was that unless you really found someone to share life with - there was no point.

Because falling in love meant losing that love, and finding an Immortal didn't mean anything, because of that damn ending that they all knew - there could be only one.

The beautiful face with the chocolate brown eyes and the dark curly hair was striking, when in contrast with the black leather that she wore, had not changed.

All in all, like so many Immortals she had known, she was alone, again.

The number was dwindling, the fledgling Immortals cut down before they had time to find their proper place, and more and more often, the elders were picking, choosing sides.

Interesting time to live, if you worked on the side of the good.

The Good, what the hell was that anyway? You saved your life by murdering others, cutting down friends with swords, absorbing memories and lives and for what?

The aching never stopped, for more than five hundred years, the memories never diminished, and time and time again, she committed the same human mistakes.

And she was doing it again.

The man on the other side of the bed watched her, eyes a dark, midnight blue, young and masculine and completely capable of doing the things that she needed.

She looked older, but at this point age never mattered, and she turned, her hair spilling across the pillow as she regarded him, post orgasm glow and the smell of sex still lingering in the room.

"That was a damn good lay, Brian."

He chuckled, low and throat, watching her with those same intense eyes. "Glad you approved."

"I've had the experience to be a pretty good judge."

"Mmhmmm." The accent was still sexy, as he moved forward, thumb tracing her collar bone. "So I've take it it's been a lot?"

"Oh yeah."

A quirk floated across his handsome lips. "Figured." A low growl that seemed not quite human came from his throat and she had to laugh, as he dipped his mouth into the hollow of her throat, catching her with a surprising amount of strength as he suckled, gently.

"Woah, watch it there, big boy, I have to go." She pushed him away, ignoring his look of disappointment as she slid over the bed to the side, letting the sheet fall as she moved toward the bathroom.

He was still, the unreadable expression on his face uncaught by her as he sighed, falling back to the bed.

"Hey Katherine?"

"Yeah?" she called from the closed door.

"Is this a one night stand?"

She opened the door, peeking inside, smirking a little. "You want it to be?"

"Hell no."

She just rolled her eyes, clamping the door shut. "Sex isn't everything Brian. Sometimes it's just sex."

"And sometimes it's more." He threw the covers off, reaching for his boxers. "Don't tell me it's that good for you all the time."

"What do you want, a medal?"

"For starters."

He heard laughter from the bathroom. "I hate to break it to you, Brian but Sex is actually a TEAM sport. Kinda like figure skating."

He pursed his lips, a trifle confused. "Figure skating?"

There was a pause. "It was an old sport. My grandmother has some old tapes."

"Oh." He smiled. "Actually I think I do pretty well on my own."

The sounds of water splashing against the tile made him pause, smile. She did it the old fashioned way, huh?

Taking a breath, he stood in her apartment, lush and rich and very nicely furnished. Water was expensive,she must have had the funds to cover a shower, even a bath, and that meant money.

Pulling on his pants, he began to look around curiously, casually opening up drawers, looking on tabletops.

On the top of one coffee table in the flat, he found a picture, of Katherine, in very odd clothes, leaning against another dark-haired guy.

He frowned. Boyfriend? Husband?

He hadn't seen a ring. Turning, he looked up to the mantle, and found something that attracted his attention.

A sword, gleaming, old, and shiny.

Moving toward the bed, he grabbed his shirt, pulling it on, when he heard the doorbell ring.

"Hey, Katherine? Door!"

"Hey Brian? Get it!"

He shook his head, smiling as he padded to the doorway, reaching the handle and opening it.

At the person in the doorway, he frowned, feeling quite territorial as he crossed his arms.

"Can I help you?"

"I'd like to come in."

"Excuse me?"

"I would like to come in."

Brian narrowed his eyes, but the face seemed familiar somehow, and he turned, making the deadliest mistake of his short life.

"Come in, I'll get Katherine."

He never saw it coming, and his blood seeped from the doorway.

The figure walked over the body, and closed the door behind him.

--

Sunnydale, California, 1999

Another crash came from the kitchen, and Angel turned, watching through the doorway as Buffy continued her angry, jerky movements.

Willow Osborne leaned against the counter, watching with a frown, before turning, coming forward.

"Maybe I better do the dishes, Buffy."

He glanced toward the doorway, where Xander leaned, watching his wife drive away.

Always the same - an attempt at the normal - taken away by their never ending ties to the supernatural.

"How are you, Giles?" he asked, turning instead to Rupert, who half dozed on the couch. Shaking him awake, Rupert blinked, and took in a breath, rubbing at his head.

"Is the party over already?"

Angel felt a smirk. "Yeah."

"Oh. Well then I think I'll retire. I promised Buffy I would help her with that research she needed."

"I think it's a good idea."

The vampire helped Rupert up, watching as he walked toward the stairs, and moved back to the kitchen, where Willow watched him, and motioned with pleading eyes.

He nodded, and moved forward, "Buffy can I talk to you?"

She paused, sighed, brushing her blonde strands away from her face and handing the rag to Willlow.

He moved to the empty living room, settling down on the couch, letting her stand, knowing she needed to keep in motion.

"What bothers you so much about her doing this?"

"Doing what? Leaving? All the time?!"

"You know she can't help it."

"It doesn't matter." Her blue eyes moved toward the door, to Xander, was now out of earshot, sitting on the porch steps. Her voice lowered slightly as she turned, moist eyes on his. "Have you seen what it does to Xander?"

Angel pursed his lips. At times his Slayer was so young, so angry and bitter, at times so old and self sacrificing. Her mission, her purpose on this world had left her with nothing but questions, and not even the forced resignation he had, that he knew frustrated her so much, could make her understand it.

"What it does to Xander, or what it does to you?"

She took in a breath, stared at him, and he continued to watch her, unwavering. "Is this about Xander and Cordelia or about us, Buffy?" he said again.

Her shoulders slumped, and she came forward, letting him gather his arms around her, press his lips against the top of her head.

Her voice was soft, resigned. "I'm not going to be around forever, Angel."

He closed his eyes, pushing away the dread. "I know."

"I just… these times… that's all we have. And Cordelia doesn't seem to … get that."

"She knows."

"Does she?" She pulled away, eyeing him. "I don't know if she does Angel. What if one day something happens and she's not here-"

He pulled her in tighter. "Nothing's going to happen to you, to any of us, Buffy. Not if I can help it."

The vampire felt the soul inside him twist, never more conviction in the haunted vampire's eyes than at that moment.

She was quiet, and a small, "Angel?" emerged, muffled by his fabric. "Promise me something."

"Of course."

"If something happens to me-"

"Nothing's going to happen to you, Buffy."

"Angel." Her blue eyes were moist, her mouth trembling slightly as she pressed fingers against his mouth. "Listen. I need you to promise to take care of them. All of them. I don't know if Cordelia will be able to."

He swallow down the growl of anger, of fear. "Nothing will-"

"Angel. Please."

He closed his eyes. Angel didn't want to ponder that, think about that. His time was short, his voice was brusque and he thought of the Immortal who left them, of the pain in her eyes as she moved away from her husband, from the family she had forsaken.

He thought of his attempt to leave Buffy, found nothing but memories in the city - of the immortal's fight to stay sane and his own attempt to break away from the only humanity he had known and loved.

The demon inside hated the closeness, the soul cherished it.

"I promise."

She held him closer, and then asked him, "What keeps you from leaving?"

His eyes still closed, he could only think of one answer, "You."

--

The clothes were different, all white, a contrast to her darker look. Hair was shorter now, chin length, sleek, sophisticated.

Older. Not in face, not in appearance, but in her eyes.

Eyes of an old soul, and the familiarity as she stared at him, at first unbelieving, and finally blurted out, "Angel? It's you? God I haven't seen you since - oh. Um… Since…"

She struggled, face flushing, and hands nervously fiddling together, and she looked nineteen again, and he found himself smiling at the recognition of the past.

"It's okay, Cordelia. You can say her name."

"Buffy… I'm sorry," she said, leaning against the bridge railing, eyes meeting his, bright with surprise.  "God… it has been forever."

He was silent, but the smile was gentle. "Nice to see a familiar face."

She nodded back, and the silent awkwardness descended. "So… are you still… GRR?"

Wow. She even illustrated that.

"Yeah, there's not really a cure for that."

"Oh. Right."

She was quiet, looking away, and he continued to just watch her, the way the wind tousled her hair.

GOD it was good to see her.

He came forward, sniffing, inhaling the scent, familiar - human, but off. Not a demon… still Immortal.

"So… are you going to ask?"

He paused, for the moment confused. "Ask what?"

"What happened. To them. After you left."

Them. He closed his eyes, feeling a jolt of pain shiver through him, infecting his soul. "Cordelia…"

"Hey I just thought you might like to know considering you just kinda took off there."

"I couldn't stay."

"Why?"

"Because it hurt too much."

She blinked, and the anger in her face was considerable as she looked away, at the river, any place but him.

"I got news broody brood boy. It kinda hurt me too. But I still stayed."

He looked down, hands shoved in his pockets. "I kept tabs."

"I know." He glanced at her in surprise, but she wasn't looking at him, as her hands grabbed onto the ledge, noticeably whiter knuckles. "So how is good old Los Angeles this time a year, Angel? Still saving souls?"

He blinked, mouth opening slightly. "You knew?"

"You're not the only one who kept tabs. Buffy made me promise, if anything ever happened…" she drifted off, and then her eyes latched onto his, her voice brighter, more chipper. "Funny running into you here. Come to live up on old memories of the big bad Angelus?"

He frowned, again.

"No. I heard you were here."

She was quiet, cocking her eyebrow, half glaring at him silently.

"It takes a hell of a lot to find me, Angel," CordeliaCordelia pointed out finally. "Not exactly high profile."

Shit. This is why he hadn't seen - it hurt. Looking at her… thank God her hair and clothes were different… it brought back…

"I had some leads. Some watchers don't interfere, but they talk with a little persuasion."

The eyebrow remained quirked, but rose higher. "You roughed up my stalker/watcher dude?"

A small smile that hinted of the demon within drifted across Angel's face, and it amused her, bringing a sense of fun into the strained conversation.

"Yeah. A little bit."

Good. The asshole deserved it. "Uh huh. Then what?"

"I .. uh.. smelled you from there."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow, her own hazel orbs boring into the vampire's.

"That's incredibly freaky, and kinda gross, Angel."

"Sorry."

Looking at Cordelia, Angel wondered if she knew just how much he knew. How he knew when Willow developed Alzheimer's, no cure as yet, how he came to visit. He wondered if she knew about the flowers that mysteriously appeared in Willow's room, or if she knew how he watched from the doorway as she knelt beside old Xander's room, watching as she held his pale, frail hand, kissed the soft skin, and cried.

"So you've had about a hundred years to make a social call and never brought it up, care to tell me why here, why now? Cause you're not exactly a Londonaire type."

"I need your help."

"Of course you do."

Cordelia Chase regarded the facet from her past with mixed emotions. A smile quirked on her lips as she looked at the vampire, never aging, and incredibly refreshing to see in a life where nothing ever stood still but her own race. He had been family, a friend, although she was married to Xander and he to Buffy, she knew that eventually, they would have this confrontation.

He had been family who had left, given up on their own, and it didn't matter how many times he had lurked in the shadows, how many times he brought flowers to Willow's room, the point was that she had been the only one who knew he was still there.

And for all intents and purposes - it wasn't fair.

He should have been there. He should have talked to them.

He should have talked to her.

But he stood here now, a century later, dark eyes brooding, in the same black clothes, and he was a vampire with the soul, who still did good.

She sighed, running her hands through her hair and nodding toward the restaurants in the square at the bottom of the bridge. "Come on."

--

Katherine stepped out of the shower, taking in a deep breath and wondered exactly how she was going to get rid of this one.

It was a mistake, that she knew. One night stands, for all their simplicity, were a sign of weakness, the acknowledgement that even though she stayed true to her dead husband's memory in heart, the contact of another human being was insatiable.

The Game was nearing it's conclusion, she could feel it, and she wondered blithely whether she even cared anymore.

Old vendetta's seemed just that… old. Life and it's purpose… seemed to have faded away.

But Katherine, with her deep blue eyes, and square set shoulders, just slung the towel over her body and opened the door, running a hand through the dripping wet tendrils of her hair.

"Brian if you go through my things, I'll have to kill you," she said, running a finger over the open dresser and raising an eyebrow as at the disheveled bed.

Ways to get rid of an unwanted lover who didn't want to leave because of great sex : number one: act the bitch. Number two : tell him he sucked. Number three : Threaten to behead him.

She mulled over the choices, looking around the bedroom for him, raising an eyebrow when she noticed everything but his shoes were gone.

"Well… I guess he had a change of heart."

A small smile flickered over her face, until a shudder claimed her, and she paused.

Throat suddenly dry, she turned, hand clutching the towel to her, walking to the living room.

"Brian? Hiding out is not my idea of a game."

Carefully she reached for the sword on the mantle.

"Katherine."

Oh, God. The sword was still in her hand as she whirled, settling neatly against the intruder's neck, steady, and then trembling violently when she saw the face.

Her face went white, and unknowingly she let the towel slip, as her blue eyes widened. "N… Ni… NICK?"

Nick, her young husband, from so many years ago, who died an early death because of their work, was smiling at her, never flinching from the sword at his neck.

"Nick…"

"Katherine, are you okay, baby?" She swallowed, shaking her head a furious no, stepping back, keeping the sword in her hand.

"You're dead, dammit."

He paused, looked surprised. "Do I look dead, Kat? Dammit, Kat put down the sword, okay? I just want to hold you. It's been so long-"

"You can't be NICK-"

"Kat who else would it be? You really think it'll be a look alike?"

"STOP!" Her voice cracked with panic, her body continued to shake but it was NICK - and he was strong and alive and it was NICk and GOD-

"Kat, baby, calm down."  He kept coming forward, hands raised out. "I promise there's an explanation."

She swallowed, heaving in her breath, and then something in the corner caught her eye.

A pool of blood, trailing from one, very dead body.

Her jaw dropped and she gasped, and in that second her sword was yanked away, and her naked body was hauled up against Nick's rock hard one.

His palm closed over her mouth, muffling her gasp and before she could flip him over he pushed his knee into the back of hers, making her buckle, full weight on top of hers, rendering her helpless.

"Told you there was an explanation," he whispered in her ear, and her eyes widened in shock as he bit into her neck.

Her blood rushed from her body, she could hear him gulping greedily.

Vampire. Oh God, Nick's a vampire, was the last thing she could perceive before she passed out.

--

"Okay, so what brings you to murky old England?" she asked, reaching over to pop a chip into her mouth as she leaned back, glancing over the secluded corner of the English Pub.

His first statement to her after she suggested fine dining was, "I don't eat."

"I don't care," had been her response, and as a result, they were here. When the waiter came, she had whispered into his ear, and when her coffee came, a mug of red, suspiciously familiar liquid had been placed in front of the vampire.

He had looked shocked, but she only shrugged.

"It's only pig's blood. Sorry Ang, don't trust you enough for the red gourmet human variety yet."

It had taken him ten minutes to feel comfortable enough to take a sip.

He took a napkin, wiped at his face, and said, brusquely.

"My seer. He saw a vision."

Angel paused his explanation, unsure of how much Cordelia knew about his life in Los Angeles. She merely raised an eyebrow, and nodded.

"How long has this one been around?"

"A few years."

She pursed her lips, taking in a breath. "I stopped keeping track after the first two… Doyle and Wesley…"

He winced, and she paused. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I just don't know why they keep plugging you with seers who keep- and who the hell ARE they, anyway?"

"The Powers that Be?"

"Is that what they're called? I thought it was the Nazi Brigade."

He couldn't help but smile grimly. "Want to hear about the vision or not, Cordelia?"

Grabbing another chip, she nodded.  "Fine. Your seer had a vision. Of what."

"Give me your pad."

She raised an eyebrow, but did it, reaching into her pocket and handing it over. Carefully Angel pulled his, connected the wire, and began the download.

"This is what we captured."

Cordelia took the pad back, staring into the tiny computer screen, tapping on her earlobe to raise the volume.

Murkiness… screaming… a naked woman… and a vampire.

She placed the tiny computer down, her lips pursed. "Okay, aside from `eww' and `augh', what exactly am I supposed to get from that?"

"That's how they come, in flashes." He reached forward, punching a button. "We were able to find the woman in the picture… at least I think we did. Here."

She watched as a much clearer shot of what appeared to be the woman was revealed. Dark hair, long, curly. Blue eyes.

"We found that on one of the Watchers I… ran into while keeping…" when her eyebrow rose, he continued hastily, "They had a file on her. Her name is Katherine."

"An Immortal?" He nodded. She thought hard, taking in a breath. "You recognize her?"

She studied the picture, slowly shaking her head no. "I've heard of her. For a while, back around the time Xander and I… I mean before… I knew of her. Standard do-gooder. Mortal husband. Hell of a left hook, Duncan said."

"Duncan?"

"No one you'd know."

He clamped his mouth shut, looking the other way.

"So… this is why you needed me? Wanted me to help you track this chick down?"

"She's here, in your city. She's one of yours. I thought you might know her."

"I don't." The voice was flat.

He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. "You still carry that sword around?"

She breathed out, nodding. "One thing that never changes about us.  We always carry those things around."

"Still do what you did in Sunnydale?"

"What? Slay vampires? Save the world?"

He nodded. Slowly, she shook her head.

"Mostly I'm just trying to keep my own head attached to my body, Angel. The Endgame is getting closer. Doesn't leave much time for helping the helpless when you've always got some power hungry freak waving some silly sword."

He looked distracted, and she raised an eyebrow. "What?"

There was a haunted, tired look on his face, and he finally let his shoulders slump, the handsome vampire curling his hands around the mug and drinking, before answering, "Click forward on the next clip. That came right after."

Curious, she shrugged, pressing play.

The same shouting, murkiness, vampires….

SHIT

And her.

--

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