The Road Before Us
By Misty Flores
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com, mistyjox@hotmail.com
Series: the Winters Trilogy – but purposely written so it could also be a standalone
Rating: R
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.
Crossover: Sorta. Highlander – but seriously, you do NOT need to be familiar with that.

* additional notes on previous parts
--

The Road Before Us : Chapter Eight
--

There was a reason William the Bloody had survived years of Chaos, years of bloodshed and anger, had survived more than his fair share of Slayers and had avoided being staked even when his own Drusilla, left on her own after leaving him for the Fungus Demon, had met the end of 'Mr. Pointy' upon her return to Sunnydale.

He had always wondered what was different about him, what allowed him to view other opponents as not just… meals… but real, living breathing – there was a sick perversion in the fact he could understand his food as people – thinking, and worthy of his attention and concern.

Since the return of Angelus, Spike had never underestimated the need for contact, the draw of loneliness – it struck even his kind, though to their credit, they were often so self-obsessed the chord to remain attached to someone or another quickly withered.

He had been one of the few who truly understood companionship, and it had made him wonder how Immortals could handle it – until he met the true beings who were ten times more alone than he ever was.

Bloody Immortals with their stupid little games – all they ever asked for was being alone.

"We're almost done."

"Good," he answered, not taking his eyes off the pentagon, and the druids circling around them. "Now you know the rules."

"No eating the druids," grumbled one fledgling.

"That's right," he said, smacking him upside the head before moving around. "We wait until we get to our little destination, for that goodness."

A dark-haired vampire stepped into the room, and Spike's eyes narrowed, focused. "Nick! You missed the whole show!"

"Where's Katherine?"

"None of your bloody concern." Spike crossed his arms, turning back, watching as the men in the robes continued their rhythmic chanting. "You bloody led them here too quickly. There wasn't enough time. She's no bloody use to us now."

The vampire froze for a half second, a low growl coming from him that would have done its job on anyone but the bleached blonde vampire, who only narrowed a scar laden eyebrow.

"Do we have a problem?"

"She's an Immortal-"

"One of many," Spike drawled, flapping his coat. "There are a few others we can choose from."

"It has to be Katherine."

"Oh, don't start playing the part of the worried hubby now, old man," Spike snapped, finally losing patience. "She's not your wife anymore and you're not her husband. Bloody hell, you're as bad as Angel. Ponce."

He turned, and the pentagon burst into the flames, nearly engulfing the druids with its ferocity.

Spike smiled, watched with brilliant excitement in his eyes as he stepped forward, into the middle of the circle, kneeling down, looking at the sacred artifact.

"Is it done?" he demanded.

"Yes. It is done."

He nodded, and grinned, a mischievous grin on Billy's face that rivaled that of a happy boy as he picked up the sword, admiring the curves. "Bloody good show." Slowly, he stood, holding the weapon with gloved hands, careful none of it touched his body. "Let's go."

"And Katherine?"

A swell of irritation swept over him as he turned to regard the younger, obsessed vampire. "How she gets there isn't a worry. She'll be there. They all will."

--

Her hands moved without thought, the ritual mechanical. Black leather pants pulled on over the tightly muscled legs. A black shirt, followed by a black leather jacket that buttoned tightly over the ample bosom.

Hair, wild and free, curls cascading over her shoulders.

Gloves pulled on over tanned, calloused fingers, her blue eyes never strayed from the mirror as she stared passively into it.

A sword, her old sword, given to her by Nick, was carefully placed in its scabbard, hidden in the leather, and then it was done.

Katherine was ready to kill her husband.

There was nothing inside of her as she moved, out of her apartment, into the mist of the deserted streets. Katherine had never been a huntress, but she had the capacity for it, knew in her mind and her body, had she been born with anything less than her conscious, she would have reveled in her Immortality.

But the dying had worn off, the joy of living and never aging had worn off, and she was tired, damn tired, of looking at her face every day and never seeing one wrinkle, one change.

There would be only one, and Katherine reveled in the day when she would discover that it would not be her.

There was nothing inside of her alive – because there was nothing inside worth living.

She wasn't sure if it would make it easier- or harder to drive her sword through her husband's neck.

The startling blue eyes, the raven black hair, the smile that had been so infectious their many years of marriage, it all flashed through her head as she continued to walk, her eyes always misty, always moist, but never flooding over, because to do so would have meant that the emotion had taken over-

So instead she tore the memories of her husband from her mind, instead focusing on the disgusting slurping that filled her with nausea, the feeling of the cold, dead body on hers, such a contrast from what he used to be-

She wasn't killing her husband, because he was already dead.

Katherine stumbled with surprise and a little more than anger as the feeling overwhelmed her, the tingling sensation that she almost ignored, had it not been for the rage that had settled itself in the chasm where she largely suspected her heart used to be.

Looking up, she turned, unbuckling the leather and sliding out the sword, looking up over the bridge.

"Fuck it, Chase. I'm not in the mood for this."

The younger Immortal stood there, the wind whipping through the shorter hair, and without a word, she merely turned, walking slowly down the steps to meet her, her own sword, a short saber, gleaming.

"Neither am I," she responded.

Katherine clamped her jaw, her eyes flashing at the passive stare of the ignorant child.

"Fine," she bit. Without preamble, she swung, sparks flying as Chase met the blow, the force behind it providing a large clang.

"There can be only one," she whispered.

--

Sunnydale, California 1999

She could NOT believe she was about to do this.

Cordelia Chase took a shaky breath, hands drumming on the steering wheel of her Daddy's new car, staring at the old mansion which harbored the half crazy demon.

It had all sounded so easy when she had suggested it to Buffy.

Buffy, Xander and even Willow told her she was insane. Yes, Angel's return had thrown them all for a loop, and yes he was rather traumatized and even Giles knew that Angel's return from hell was probably something he should TALK about.

Buffy had tried to break though, but he had shut her out, gone even more broody than before, and that was making Slayer Girl broody, which was making Xander Buffy obsessed again, and Cordelia Chase was just NOT HAVING her boyfriend Buffy obsessed again.

Lame Loser or not.

It had all come into one complex little social problem, and Cordelia was good with those. She was dating the school loser, and had managed to come out semi unscathed, right? She even kinda… loved the zeppo.

And the only way to safeguard her affections for her boyfriend was to get Buffy's man back into … semi sane working order.

Okay, sure, he was a vampire who had just tried to kill everyone and you know, destroy the world. That was sans soul, right? Angel wasn't Angelus, right?

Angel was good… and even… kinda helpless. In a fangy carebear kinda way.

Nope – no Broody Slayer and Angsty Soul Laden Vampire were going to make Xander obsess about anyone but her.

Sure… Piss him off enough to realize that if he was mad enough to care – then maybe life was worth living.

Hell even now she tried to figure out if she was one frappe short of the loony bin.

"Okay, Cordelia, you can do this. It's just like talking Aura out of the powder blue ensemble. Motivational Speaker."

"Shut up," she murmured to her inner Xander, when she felt her boyfriend's words come back to haunt her. "Prom's in three months and I'm getting a damn good dress and you're passing chemistry so you can take me. And if pissing off Angel is the only way to do it, then damn well so be it."

With that, she grabbed her purse, gently watched her step as slammed the convertible's door, walking with a straightforward, purpose filled – and still quite graceful, thank you very much- stride to the icky, desolate mansion where Broody Dead Guy had holed up.

Like the Mary Kay lady who had been chased away from her door, she rapped with her knuckles, strong, purpose-filled knocks that were full of confidence and not at all shaky.

Because Cordelia wasn't shaky.

Nope. Not at all.

One second, two, and she got impatient, grabbing the big, dusty clapper and using that.

"Hello!"

The door opened a tiny bit.

"Go away."

She smiled brightly. "Angel! Hi!" Pushing forward, she let herself in, ignoring the vampire's look of surprise as she walked into the middle of the hallway, looking around. "Wow. Nice place… for… a dead person."

"Cordelia, what are you doing here?"

He was wearing scruffy black pants, and a tank top, hair was unruly, and his mouth was pulled in a decided frown as he moved past her, padding in bare feet into the library.

Geez. Hobo, much?

Pasting the ever bright 'Cordelia killer watt smile' on she followed him in, hands coyly behind her back. "Just checking up. How ya doing?"

He only glared at her, sinking into a really dusty chair.

Broody silence.

Oh-kay.

She leaned over the coach. "What are you reading?"

Angel paused, closing the book, glaring at her. "Cordelia I'm kinda busy."

"Oh yeah, I can see that. 'Cause the life and times of Garfield is SO interesting. I never knew you were int-"

He slammed the book down, heaving a deep, inaudible sigh. "Cordelia, What do you want?"

"Geez. What I can't come see an old friend?"

"We're not friends."

"Well hit a girl where it hurts." Shaking her head, she was prepared to sit on one of the chairs, thought better of it, and wrinkled her nose, preferring instead to stand. "Okay, you got me. I actually came for a reason."

"I'm alive with anticipation," he practically growled, looking into his book again.

"I'm just wondering. Are you doing to be broody losery guy like, full time now? Cause you know, we already have one of those around the school."

"HEY!"

"Giles can get away with it! He's tall, and… have you heard him sing?"

"Cordelia-"

"Just wondering, because this little thing you're doing? With the dirty tanktop, and the dirty pants and the REALLY bad taste in décor?" she turned, scrunching her nose, smirking when his eyes floated down to his ensemble self consciously. "Not exactly hitting high marks with the Buffster."

His hand slammed down, slamming the book into the ground. The crash made her jump, and she swallowed, eyes wide in fear as he stood, a low growl coming from his throat.

"Get out."

"No."

"GET OUT."

"I said NO. I'm on a mission, damn you-"

He came forward, grabbing her elbow, dragging her toward the door. "Leave, Cordelia."

She dug her feet into the shag carpet, her features set in grim determination.

"Growl and grunt as much as you want, caveman, I'm not leaving until you spank your inner moppet."

The growl sent a chill through her, and when he turned to her, handsome features erupted into the game face, she felt her knees threaten to turn to jelly, and so she did the only thing that came to mind.

She slapped him. Soundly.

The sting of her palm was visible in red welts across the side of his face, and utterly terrified, Cordelia held her ground, giving him a 'so there' look as she crossed her arms, fully ready to bolt before becoming angst guy's next meal.

But the vampire only looked stunned, and then, watching the trembling girl before him, he did something completely out of the blue.

He began to laugh.

It started as a snort, and suddenly the vampire face receded and the whole ridiculousness of the entire situation completely floored him, and the vampire laughed so hard he sank into the chair, tears eeking from his eyes.

Cordelia was frozen stiff.

But he made no move to attack her, and instead her own heart jolted when he suddenly shifted from a snort to a sob, and the tears that began to stream out were real.

Haunted sobs were wrenched from Angel's throat, as he covered his face, his shoulders shook with force that made her swallow.

Oh-kay. A handful of blubbering Soul Guy was not what she expected.

Guys she could handle – but guys who CRIED? She hated that.

But hanging with the Scoobies had done something, because the next thing she knew she was walking toward him, sitting down beside him, and carefully, hesitantly, placing one hand on his cold back.

The contact made him stiffen, but when the tear streaked eyes met hers, she offered a gentle smile and a shrug.

"We've all got demons, Angel," she said frankly. "Some of ours just… work a little harder than others."

He stared at her, a long hard stare into the hazel eyes, and Cordelia felt her heart jolt when the vampire smiled.

A tiny smile, full of pain and regret and haunted agony – but it was there all the same.

"There, see? Not so bad! You oughta do that more often! And hello, can we fix the décor? Geez, you'd think you been around so long, you might have grabbed some taste, Mr. I've-Been-Alive-For-Two-Hundred-Years-And-Never-Developed-An-Investment-Portfolio."

A look of shock, uncertainty, but the smile widened, and Cordelia rested her cheek on the palm of her hand, resisting the urge to pat herself on the back.

Mission accomplished.

Buffy Summers, you are on your way to getting back one incredibly broody boyfriend.

And I'm on my way to the perfect prom.

--

The Hyperion was cold and lonely, as Angel walked in setting his bag on the floor and ignoring the look of anger in his Seer's eyes.

"Don't ask," he said gruffly, pulling off his coat.

His eyes were flashing, but his face was tired, as he sank into the chair opposite the young Travis, half glaring at him.

"Just tell me what's going on."

Travis, with the scruffy dirty blonde hair and wide, brown eyes, was more than used to his broody boss, and only shook his head, stating in a passive, monotone voice, "Vampires nest, about to conduct a ritualistic sacrifice, happening here." He tossed him a pad. "And the other visions – all swirly and stuff… a lot more vague. Lot of yelling, lot of cranking, lot of swords… some demon rising, and that Katherine girl again."

Angel closed his eyes, opening and closing his left fist. "Anything on that with Cordelia?"

"No."

"Good." He let out a deep, unneeded breath. "Let's get to work."

"Did you finish what you had to in Merry Ole' England?"

"Not really."

Travis stared, but didn't say a word, and when Angel looked up to wonder why, he found Travis' gaze was occupied by looking at his left hand.

The bare left hand.

Angel was still as Travis' eyes moved up, and found the ring nestled into his chest, hanging on a delicate gold chain.

It wasn't on his hand.

"Let's get to work," Angel said gruffly, launching out of the chair and heading upstairs.

He didn't care to explain himself, and if asked, he doubted he even could.

--

*CLANG*

Katherine moved swiftly, and Cordelia parried as quickly as she could, ducking and rolling as she blocked Katherine's very offensive moves.

Memories seared through her heart like a double-edged sword, and she tried to push them away, to concentrate on the fight – but they kept plaguing her with every swing.

Angel's eyes, Buffy's smile, Xander's hold-

Angel's eyes… Angel's vision.

"WAIT!" She shook herself, holding out her arm, eyes suddenly wide open.

Katherine, in the middle of a charge, looked unsure, and she struck again.

"I said WAIT! GOD!" Cordelia gave a long breath, meeting the thrust, and swinging around, making Katherine lose her balance, and stumbled back. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Playing the Game."

"That's not why I'm here."

"There can be only one-"

"KATHERINE! GET A GRIP!" Cordelia reached forward, shaking the Immortal viciously. Katherine responded with a punch into Cordelia's face.

"OWW. Bitch. Alright, that's it. This stupid Game? Not playing it." Cordelia huffed, and threw her sword across the courtyard, letting it clatter.

The other Immortal wavered, lost in confusion, shaking her head. "Pick it up!"

"NO! I'm not here for that. I want to help you!"

"Help me with what?"

"Deal with your issues. You've got some."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Cordelia sighed, brushing her bangs from her face. "Look I know what it's like, okay? I married a mortal… I lost him…"

Katherine's sword wavered, her blue eyes tearing up in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I know all about Nick, okay? I've… seen photos. I've been there. I know. I married mine and he died and it was like everything inside of me just… died with him. And I don't know what I would do if he just walked back in all evil but… suicide and trying to get me to take your head isn't gonna do it. I want to help you, Kat, but you gotta let me… and not swing that thing at me every half second."

The sword was shaking visibly now, as Cordelia stood, her palms out, letting Katherine look at her, really look at her.

"What was his name?"

The word was raspy, and Cordelia swallowed. "Xander. Alexander Lavelle Harris. A completely loser with horrible taste in clothes and the best damn body in California. He was on the swim team," she explained when Katherine smirked slightly.

"What about the other guy?"

"What other guy?"

"Angel."

"Oh. He's a friend… he wants to help you. He… knows what it's like. He married a mortal too."

Katherine's gaze hardened. "He's a vampire."

"Yeah. But a good one. It's a soul thing."

"Are you and he-"

"Oh, no! I like my men less broody and more spendy."

The comment earned her a shaky smile, and Cordelia smiled back, gentle, calm.

"We're just friends. Who want to help. Okay?"

A long pause, a shaky nod, and the sword suddenly came down.

--

Thunder crashed and lightning lit up against the windows, but Mr. Jacobs never paid attention.

Terence never entertained visitors, he wasn't exactly the social type, and so it more than irritated him when rapid raps became pounding at his door.

Looking away from the consul, he took another gulp of coffee, straightening his tie and moving towards the door.

"Terence!"

He froze at the familiar voice.

"Ms. Chase?"

When she called his name again, his feet found the energy to move, and without thinking he went forward, unlocking the bolts and hurriedly turning the knob.

Ms. Winters immediately brushed past him. "What the hell is going on, Terence? Kat and I just almost lopped each other's heads off for no reason!"

Throwing off the trench hood, she looked completely drenched, and proceeded to shake out drops of water from her hair. Coming in a second after her was Ms. Katherine, who was also shaking out her much longer tresses, giving him a suspicious look.

"This the guy?"

"Yeap. My stalker. Terence, you know Katherine, right?"

Shifting his feet at the sudden intrusion of two Immortals heavily armed in his room, he could only offer a shaky nod.

"Glad to see you're all right, Ms. Katherine."

"Just plain old Katherine will be fine. Ms. Katherine makes me sound… old."

"So you're watcher guy, what the hell is going on, Terence?" Cordelia repeated, coming forward. "Katherine and I just went killer hungry out there and that's never happened to either of us."

"Uh… Ms. Chase I wouldn't know-"

"But you would know if it's been happening elsewhere. The other watcher guys would have told you, right? Is this what I think it is?"

Mr. Jacobs hesitated, but the hazel eyes bore into him, and the dark blue joined, and it wasn't threatening at all.

These Immortal ladies were scared.

Taking a breath, he unclenched his fists, eyes on his Immortal.

Ms. Winters, with her winsome beauty, sharp tongue and her kind heart…

The fact that he was only now beginning to know her when he had spent most of his adult life watching her seemed so unfair somehow.

With one nod and two words, he made his decision.

"The Gathering."

The words spoke ominously, something akin to the Rapture or End of Days itself. Ms. Winters sucked in her breath, meeting Katherine's gaze with a small welt of fear. Both knew immediately what that meant.

The Gathering, the beginning of the end game where the Immortals congregated and heads started to roll.

And in the end – there could be only one.

"It's happening? NOW?!"

"Yes and no." He moved forward, sitting down at his table and typing rapidly. "The Council believes…and of course this is all confidential-"

She only rolled her eyes and slapped him roughly on his shoulder.

"Yeah, okay, go on-"

"It shouldn't happen yet. And yet it is."

Cordelia crossed her arms, peering over him, lost in thought.

"Okay. So if it's not supposed to happen… then something… or someone's rushing it?"

"We believe so."

"That explains us running at each other like cavemen," Katherine offered from the other side of the Watcher.

"It's more than that," Terence said, typing away furiously, looking up at the monitor flattened against his wall. "It's… congregated. One by one... the Gathering is being focused into one place. The Immortals are being drawn."

"I haven't felt anything."

"Well we've already established you two have managed to break from whatever… " Terence blinked, and suddenly his eyes widened, but Cordelia only sad down next to him, her gaze and tone not allowing for any nonsense.

"So where is this one place?"

--

Sunnydale, CA 1999

He knew something was wrong when Buffy knocked.

She never knocked, just flounced in with her bright smile and sexy clothes, and dropped in next to him, nudging him and acting like a typical seventeen year old girl.

Things had been going well for his Buffy.

The smile had returned to her face, her eyes were brighter, and for once, Angel could say he loved her as much as he knew her.

Talks, long talks and hand holding and friendship walks that were chaperoned by other members of her little gang because they didn't quite trust him yet, but were willing to try, for one simple reason.

If Cordelia Chase had gotten him pissed enough and he still hadn't killed her, then maybe he had some self control after all.

But Buffy's knock was deliberate, almost timid, and Angel stared at the door, unsure, and for the first time in the three months that he had begun to seek her out, he felt truly scared at what she might say.

Her prom date… maybe her prom date had-

No… she wouldn't allow-

But she was so fragile. His strong little Buffy had an incredibly fragile heart.

"Angel?"

Swallowing, he walked forward, carefully hefting the weight of the door and opening it to find her small form looking up at him with eyes misted over with tears.

"Buffy?"

"Oh, God, Angel."

Overcome with sobs, she was suddenly buried in his arms, holding him tightly, so tightly he felt his ribs creak in protest.

But he only held her closer, confused, scared and bewildered, pressing kisses to her soft blonde hair and smoothing it down.

"Buffy." But she only held him closer, the strong little Slayer clinging to the vampire as if he was her only lifeline.

Bringing his arms around her, he brought her into his home, closing the door, standing just inside the hallway, feeling his white tank top become soaked with tears.

His throat was choked, and it took him two raspy tries to ask again what was wrong.

She shuddered, as he looked down at her, cupping her face gently in his broad palms.

"It's Cordy," she whispered, and her face convulsed and she began to sob again, clutching tighter.

Cordy?

"What… what happened to Cordelia?"

A sniffle came from his love, a barely audible answer that made his entire being plummet with emotion.

"She's dead."

There was nothing inside him, he only gathered her tighter, staring off into the distance as his mind was suddenly filled with memories of the brunette with the scathing tongue and elite fashion sense, with the bright smile and the barbed words.

She had only been seventeen.

"How did she…"

"A car accident. On Prom Night. She Umm… just crashed, Angel. Just like that. It wasn't a demon or… a prophecy or… even a damn vampire – but Cordelia died in a DAMN CAR CRASH. We couldn't even find her body."

"Shhh." Angel eyes were wide open, as he gathered her closer, allowed her cry against his cold body, trying to support when suddenly everything went empty inside.

The brunette who had pulled him from his aura of pain, who had literally smacked him out of it… was gone… just like that.

"And, God, Angel. Xander's just a mess. He just… he let her go by herself… that night and the roads were wet and stuff and someone spiked the punch… we found her car all mangled and there was blood everywhere-"

He closed his eyes, inhaled Buffy's scent and ignored the fierce trembling inside of him, the shriveling of emotion that told him that if someone as untouched by the supernatural as Cordelia Chase was truly dead…

What hope was there for him?

--

He couldn't sleep.

His fingers felt naked and the coldness of steel against his chest was only a reminder of what he had done.

Something ached in his chest as he propped himself up on the pillows, reaching for the chain and holding the tiny gold band on between his finger tips.

Small, round… perfect.

A symbolic representation of an eternal, powerful love that would never end.

Till death do us part.

The wedding vows rung through his head, and he never understood, always wondered why Buffy, late one night in his arms, had whispered that she wanted him to learn to live…

He understood now… because what they both waited for, what they both spent their entire lives dreading…was death.

It dominated him, his thoughts, his hearts…

Seer after seer died. Friend after friend.

None had seared has heart, had shook him so completely than the moment Buffy had taken her last breath…

And she had asked him to live. Even immersed in death, with the possibility of death, she had asked him to live.

The oracles, before they had met their demise, had left him with a parting gift, a sentence of advice that had never had so much meaning-

The Powers that Be were wise ones.

When one door closed, another opened.

Hazel eyes that hadn't lost their luminosity haunted him now, along with the blue, and in his mind he replayed Buffy's words, over and over, said to him and apparently, to Cordelia.

Take care of each other… watch each other…

Because neither quite knew how to be alone.

But his fingers still felt naked, and he frowned, once again remembering the beautiful face with the blond streaks, smiling, always bright smiles…

From the moment he had met her she had made him laugh…

That was a rarity… even Buffy had agreed.

The smiles were less and less, the eyes were deep and sad, and he realized then, Cordelia, had never moved beyond death herself.

Cordelia Chase, aka Chase Winters… was not living…

Because she was living among the dead.

"ANGEL!"

The door burst open, and Travis showed up in his doorway, looking pained and worried and scared.

"What?" Angel asked, immediately getting up, pulling on a shirt.

"Vision. Hollywood, Sunset and Vine. The Sunset Media Tower. Lots of vampires – and one woman."

He was out the door in two seconds.

--

Bursting past the guards, Angel continued to run, past, the elevators, past the closed bar, and into the parking structure.

Faltering, he looked, up and around, until the crashing and cursing made him burst into a sprint, moving up, and around the corner.

He almost stumbled into the pile of vampires, was just in time to see another beheaded and damn near close to being beheaded himself when the blade stopped an inch from his neck.

"Angel?"

He paused, and an audible gasp came from his lips.

"Katherine?"

--