Author: Misty Flores
Email: mistyjox@hotmail.com
Teaser: When Angel Investigations investigates a murder at a local strip joint, one of the crew gets a little more undercover than they bargained for.
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Chapter Five
--
At times Wesley wondered if he was the only one who regretted the group decision to put him in charge.
Standing around the counter, everyone's faces contained nothing but pure resolve. There was more function, more cohesiveness since his ascension to power, and Wesley wondered if that was because of his lack of leadership or because of his 'ability' to allow the team to rely on their own resourcefulness.
True enough, there was none of the 'glare and stare' method that Angel used to prefer during his reign as the head of Angel Investigations, and the group, on large decisions, still accepted the orders from his mouth with out argument.
It seemed almost, however, that the group by and large only granted him his place when… they seemed up to it.
Wesley had come to accept that there were circumstances when Angel took orders from no one, and he allowed that Cordelia took orders from any of them only when she felt like it.
The insecurities of the recent events had given Wesley an edge, he knew that, with his solemn, grim demeanor that made them all look at him as if he were at an abyss, teetering on the edge.
Today he managed only a grim smile, nodding as he gulped down the rest of the tea and set it aside, wiping at his glasses and clearing his throat.
"Well then, shall we catch up? Fred? Gunn?"
Fred immediately looked to the taller man, and Gunn, caught in the middle of munching on a piece of toast, gave Wesley a slightly panicked look, hurriedly reaching for a glass of water to wash it down.
"We found out that Jessie and Jennifer were close," Fred finally said, taking pity on her co-worker, patting his hand helpfully.
"Close?"
"Lovers," Gunn managed to choke out, fully prepared to wipe his hand with his mouth until Fred stopped him, handed him a napkin instead.
The look that passed between them twisted something inside Wesley, but he didn't comment.
"We found these." Gunn dropped an envelope on the counter, letting Wesley reach over to pick it up, Cordelia and Angel both moving over his shoulder to pick them up.
They were silent as the trio looked.
Cordelia spoke first.
"Wow. Those are almost good enough to be on the internet."
"They already are," Gunn muttered. "I checked for research!" he added hastily when everyone looked at him. He blushed further when Wesley cocked an eyebrow and immediately pushed Fred in front of him, as if her smaller body could hide his larger frame. "Ask her."
Fred just shook her head and continued with her explanation. "He disappeared without a trace. All his clothes, messages unanswered…"
"And nothing suspicious there either," Gunn added, leaning forward. "There was even a message from Jennifer, asking him if they were meeting up that night like they planned."
"Did you happen to-" Gunn placed the cassette into Wesley's hands.
"There you go, bro." He winked.
"I can ask about the stripper tonight," Angel offered, placing his hands on the table.
Wesley nodded, eyes focused on the counter. "Cordelia?"
"Don't worry, I'm all set on my end. I'll be making my appearance as the 'rich bitch' tonight as well." Her face defied the chipperness of her voice, looking strained and a little tense. "I'll keep an eye on this Rebecca girl and of course, try to get into the secret society."
"Be careful."
"I'll be watching her," Angel assured Wesley.
"Not as much as I'll be watching him," Cordelia shot back, and when Angel blinked, she only winked, causing him to smile down at his hands.
"Well," Wesley began in the silence that followed, suddenly feeling like a mismatched fifth wheel. "We need more information. I'll look up this symbol that Angel gave me." He fingered the sketch, eyes narrowing as the turned the tattoo over, "But I can say it looks like nothing I've encountered in my books before."
"Fred and I will keep looking over this whole Jessie/Jennifer connection," Gunn said.
Wesley smiled as the group all nodded, assignments in place.
"Then let's be off."
Cordelia immediately moved to the stairs, followed by Angel, Gunn to the lounge to grab his coat, leaving little Fred, who stared at Wesley with a hesitant, nervous expression on her face.
Wesley sat at his desk, worked for a minute, and finally looked up to find Fred still staring at him.
A small, gentle smile caressed his features and he asked, "Something on your mind?"
"Oh! Am I botherin' ya! I can go, I mean-"
"Fred, of course you're not bothering me, please, sit." He pulled open the chair on the side, and she sat, hands now fidgeting in her lap.
He sat back in his chair, almost amused at the anxiousness had it not been for her eyes.
"Fred? What is it?"
"I umm… well I would talk to Cordelia about this- but you know- and-"
"Fred whatever it is, I'm sure I can help."
"I wanna get somethin' fer Gunn."
Wesley paused, blank shock filling his features for a second before she continued with her fidgety hands, "His birthday's coming up in a few weeks."
"It is?!"
Fred nodded, licking her lips and leaning forward. "I just found out… he's very private."
"Obviously," Wesley muttered, shifting in his chair, more bothered than he wanted to admit at not knowing.
Fred was quiet, and her face twisted into a delicate frown as she finally shifted in her seat, and sighed. "I've never had a boyfriend like Gunn, Wesley."
"Boyfriend?" he repeated, eyes jerking up to meet with hers.
Her palm slid to her mouth as her expression turned horrified. "I'm jumping the gun, aren't I?" she breathed. "There I go all assumin' things and-"
"Fred-"
"It's only been a date and a couple of kisses- okay three- four but that's all and well why would we-"
"Fred-"
"Ah mean Gunn prolly has lotsa girls-"
"FRED!" Wesley reached forward, grabbing her by the shoulders. When she jumped slightly, he flushed, jerking his hands away.
"Yes?"
"Gunn likes you," Wesley finally said, moving back to the chair, swallowing down the confliction. "All right?"
"Gunn likes you a lot." Fred squeaked, and whirled around to find the large black man leaning against the doorway, a quirk of a smirk on his lips.
"CHARLES!"
"Hey, baby doll." He came forward, holding out her coat as she stood shakily, almost quaking in her boots.
"You didn't happen to hear-"
"Every word," he confirmed, smiling at her. "And feel free to throw that word 'boyfriend' around a lot more."
She gave a small whimper as he chucked her chin gently, settling her coat around her shoulders and then wrapping his arm around them as well.
Wesley watched them go, and despite the lonely ache in his heart, he couldn't help but smile, just a little.
--
Male bonding was something Angel never did well.
The vampire had very logical reasons for not getting involved with other members of the human race: that being that he was well… a vampire.
Humans were food.
The demonic impulses that once roared into his ears had now dulled slightly, Angel had come to appreciate that thanks to the friends he had inherited- human friends.
Every day with human bodies had lessened the impulse, the demon still pounding away inside of him, but the resistance had grown stronger, with Cordelia in his arms, Wesley and Gunn's scent in the air, Fred's complete obliviousness and determination not to fear him, what he was.
He knew Cordelia and Gunn never forgot what he was.
He never forgot what he was.
He had no choice.
Standing in the room with the half naked men, some who boasted about the conquests they made, others who simply came into the room to change and then went about their business, Angel began to wonder exactly how adapted to this type of reality he really was.
Humans, with their heartbeats and their scents and their male dominance issues.
He sat in the corner, eyes narrowed as his eyes roved over the different floor boys, lesser men than he, he knew, the way they moved away from him, almost as if afraid of his presence.
All except Brian, who came to his side of the mirror, nodded his head indifferently and began to run a comb through his hair.
"Where the hell is the gell?"
"Oh." Angel jerked, shifted under his 'tools' and produced the desired bottle of gel.
Brian plucked the bottle away from Angel and shot him a glare, shaking his head.
"Ever try to be sociable, man?" he muttered.
Angel was quiet, eyes moving around the men. "It's not my style."
Brian snorted, burying his face into a towel. "Yeah, man. Whatever."
Angel considered, eyes locking onto Brian's frame. "Hey. I used to know a guy that worked here. Jesse."
Brian froze, hands moving away from his face, expression wary. "How'd you know him?"
"Mutual friends."
The dark eyes riveted onto Angel's own, swirling with what seemed a hidden agenda, before the black man pursed his lips and shook his head slightly. "Quit a couple weeks back."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Wouldn't happen to know where he went?"
"If you're such good friends wouldn't he have told you?" Brian snapped.
Angel sighed, nodding. "Yeah okay."
"Get to work."
One of these days Brian was going to find himself impaled to the wall with a pair of Argentinian hunting knives.
Giving a growl so low it was barely perceptible, he shifted off the counter, heading toward the door when Rolando burst through the door.
"Check out the latest mamacita," he winked and closed the door.
The men all gave a look, and suddenly everyone moved to the entrance.
The vampire followed, eyes narrowed as he pushed past the men, opening the door, letting the loud, pulsing music drift into his ears.
His eyes searched the room, not finding anything out of the ordinary until he sniffed, and a very familiar scent pervaded his nostrils.
His body rigid, Angel pushed the other men out of the way, eyes searching and finally locking on one Cordelia Chase.
His best friend had never looked so much like a sex kitten.
Dressed in blood red, Cordelia's dressed was long, slinky, and tight.
She took a step forward, and it became apparent that the slit that ran up her left leg was high, too high in his opinion. Angel's hands clenched into fists as Cordelia cast a sultry glance around the club, eyes darkened with makeup and lipstick red and sexy as sin.
This wasn't his Cordelia Chase.
In her eyes was a dark glare, in her walk was an authority that presided over the entire room, as she took another step and the slit parted to reveal more of the milky, silken thigh, calves accented by the red high heels, and hair spilling over in tumbling curls.
Curls?!
Angel blinked again, trying to figure out how the hell Cordelia's hair had grown in the space of half a day.
Every step she took seemed familiar some how, and Angel turned his head, cocking, trying to place when on earth he had seen his Seer work a room like she did now.
When she moved past a group of screaming women, arched an eyebrow at the half naked man dancing and then turned away with ill disguised boredom, the clarity hit Angel in the gut.
Queen Cordelia of Sunnydale High had just entered the building.
Behind him he heard muttering, the usual comments from the men he worked with, and this time he stifled the urge to rip every single head off, reminding himself blatantly that he wasn't supposed to care about … her.
Not here. Not now.
Even if every fiber in his being screamed for possession.
"New player?"
The feminine voice made him turn, and Angel nodded, not moving from the palm placed on his bare shoulder, looking back to where Cordelia sat, in the darkest corner, looking conspicuous as hell and not giving a damn.
"Showed up in a limo," he heard behind him. "That's what Maury said."
"Hmm." The wheels in Rebecca's head were already turning, and she smirked, as her gaze fixed on Cordelia Chase, palm squeezing Angel's shoulder. "She's a hottie."
Angel managed a pained smile and that was all.
"Angel," she said breezily, "Let's get her a drink." She quirked her finger and he followed behind her, picking up a tray and avoiding more butt pinches as they weaved their way around the circular tables, ending at the table where Cordelia, finally being bothered enough to notice them, only gave Rebecca another trademarked arched eyebrow.
--
She had never realized just how soft she had become until Cordelia had been forced to regress to her former bitch queen self.
Despite the accomplished actress she had become, there had been a little bit of an ache as Cordelia stepped outside of the limousine, taking the hand of the valet and walking forward, the expensive dress sliding effortlessly against her skin, head held high.
It was a state of mind, a lack of utter concern for other's opinions and the knowledge that you were the best damned looking person in the room.
She had forgotten how… nice feeling like this was. The walls safe and protected, icy exterior that kept everything out.
All the pain, all the emotions- the lust and need for awareness the only fuel one needed.
And when she stepped into the club, alone and tall and untouchable, she realized why she hadn't missed it that much.
The loneliness that came with it- it was difficult to step into a room and be completely alone.
She had forgotten about that.
But she swallowed down the emotion, absorbed the stares and used them, as she gazed at the crowds of women, allowed herself to feel the disdain for their petty inferiority and moved to her own table – HER table, claimed before she had even entered, because she was royalty.
Her hazel eyes were cold as they moved over the other woman in her room, the other women who were just like her, rivals in bitterness, callous cold longing for any kind of connection.
They were all here for the same reason, weren't they?
In the other plush chairs, red roses pinned to their cleavage, they were there, eyeing her over glasses of champagne, in Gucchi shoes and Prada purses.
She stared back, knowing the power struggle, savoring it, remembering it well.
Her heart beat inside of her, and when the woman in the dark black suit came forward she was expecting it.
What she was not expecting was Angel right behind her.
Her breath sucked in and Cordelia nearly trembled, but her face revealed nothing, as she only smiled primly, nodding her head as the woman who was obviously the owner settled down across from her, a curious, overtly friendly smile on her face.
"I haven't seen you here before."
"Not surprising considering it's my first time," she answered easily, meeting the woman's hand for a brief, firm, delicate shake. "Victoria Chase."
"Rebecca Hull. Do you mind?"
"Please." Rebecca sat, crossing her arms and staring at Cordelia, eyes flecked with unabashed interest. "It's our custom, first drinks on the house. This is Angel, he'll take your order."
Cordelia's eyes finally shifted to meet the familiar darkness of her friend's. Angel stood, a smirk that reminded her just a little of Angelus as he cocked his head, the tray in his hands.
"Let me guess," he drawled, as her eyes raked appreciatively over his body. "Apple martini?"
The intensity in his gaze made her shiver, and Cordelia had to smile, forcing herself to restrain her movement to only a nod, turning back to the hostess.
Rebecca wore a knowing grin.
"Same for me."
Angel nodded, moving back, weaving his way through the crowd. Cordelia took a breath, swallowing, eyes unconsciously marking every ripple of the muscle of his back, every turn, and every woman that turned to look in his direction.
"Quite a specimen isn't he?" Rebecca chuckled, turning to watch him go.
Cordelia forced another lazy smile on her face, nodding, almost cursing herself as she felt the heat of her face giving away the blush.
"This is a beautiful place you have, Rebecca. And I don't just mean the men."
"Though they are high contenders. How did you hear about us?"
Cordelia let the lie slip easily off her tongue, flippant and almost disinterested. "My boyfriend flew me in, but of course he had a meeting, and I was left to entertain myself. The concierge filled me in."
"Mmm. What hotel?"
"Le Meridian."
"Beverly Hills."
"I wouldn't stay anywhere else." Cordelia smiled, reaching into her purse and extracting a twenty, flipping it on the tray as Angel set the drinks down, again letting their eyes connect.
The thump of her heart was easy to ignore as her mind went to work, knowing that a woman like Rebecca was already filing that information away in her brain, most likely to check up on as soon as she left Cordelia's presence, and once again Cordelia mentally thanked David Nabbit for his connections.
The lights went down and the music filled the air, distracting Cordelia, and Rebecca smiled. "Well, I'll leave you to enjoy the show."
"Thank you Rebecca. Nice meeting you."
"Likewise, I hope you enjoy your stay."
Cordelia's eyes again connected with Angel's, and this time, she made sure Rebecca heard the breezy, husky tone, the smile that slid on her features almost wolfish as she remarked, "I'll make a point of it."
Rebecca noted it, and Cordelia leaned back, raising the martini to her lips, watching Angel as he moved away, dark eyes on her, always on her.
He was concerned, she could catch it, but it was only a split second before he left her to play his own part, moving with Rebecca's prodding to the group of Red Roses that were seated on the other side.
Cordelia took the moment to study the room.
Dark, it was clear that the feudal layout was not accidental.
The entire place was posh illustrated. Woman wore dresses, the working men all wore bow ties, despite the fact they wore little else.
Woman with less money crowded to the front of the stage, jostling and whistling and laughing with other, waving dollar bills for the men on the stage.
The men took their time, however, for the woman in the elevated platforms, seated in darkened corners, their tables large and luxurious.
The woman who didn't scream, but watched coolly, almost as if assessing their surroundings as if at an auction.
Cordelia memorized the glances they gave the men, the cool way they looked them up and down, the way they clasped Rebecca's hands as equals, clients…
It was clear which group she needed to be a part of, and when Rebecca turned and gave her another study, Cordelia just licked her lips and smirked just a little.
She was well on her way.
--
The cool demeanor on the woman who gave him such smiles was amusing to a point.
It also made him ache.
The two encounters with Cordelia, watched closely by Rebecca, had left him shaking with need and a little bit of anger.
Angel gave a slight sigh, and turned away, moving away from Cordelia, and decided to keep away for the rest of the night.
His control was fragile, and the result of this particular mission would be great jeopardized if he continued the flirtation.
He couldn't go near Cordelia after that, the Red Roses dominated his time, as the women with the roses on their ample cleavage, with their expensive perfumes and gold glittered rings, slid hands over his palms, over his back, whispering in his ear and sliding hands into his pockets.
The urge to jump away at the violations had died the first night, and Angel only moved away, smiling as the pretty young rich married girl kept her hand on his thigh, definitely wanting more than a drink.
And still, his Cordelia did not look. Her eyes were still inspecting the room, fingers curled delicately around the stem of her martini, sipping it with those blood red lips of hers, eyes floating over the men who attended her with mild interest.
To see the look coming from her was disconcerting, twisting something inside of him and again he turned away when the fingernails of Rachel delicately raked up his forearm.
Her palm wrapped around his wrist with surprising force, and suddenly his lips were on hers, her tongue forcing her way inside his mouth.
Stilling the shock, Angel growled slightly, giving her one harsh kiss and then pulling back, grateful when Rebecca appeared, shaking her finger at Rachel.
"Naughty, naughty, Rachel," she said with a laugh. "That's not how we do things."
Angel gave a shrug, plastering a grin on his face before turning, muttering something about a break to the bartender and letting the scowl float over his face as he moved to the side exit.
In the cold, night air, he could finally breathe, and although he had no physical need for it, he did, taking in the cold air into his dead lungs in an attempt to clear his frazzled head.
Her scent was almost immediate, and he turned, eyes catching hazel as she closed the door behind him, on her face confliction and unreadable anger before she suddenly came forward.
Her body pressed against his and her hands cradled his head in a strong grip as she leaned up.
His lips were plundered, soft skin moving against him that hit him with such emotion he trembled, eyes closing and immediately wrapping his hands around Cordelia's slim waist, pulling her closer to him still, gathering cloth into fist as his lips continued to move possessively on hers.
When she broke away, she was gasping, her eyes were glittering and the intensity in her stare made him burn, harden against her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, fingers trembling against his face, caressing his lips gently. "I know that- but I just… wanted to be sure… of you-"
He gave her no other time to speak, instead he pulled her up firmly against him, dipping his head again and catching her lips with a low moan, pushing forward until she was pressed against the brick of the building, her body flush against his.
Her kiss was searing, hot liquid that coarsed through him as he kept her pressed against him, legs moving around his waist, leaving his hands free to roam over his best friend's body, tight and hot and sweet.
Fingers crept around his neck, her lips broke free for one ragged gasp before they were on his again, moving against his with such ferocity, passion and confliction.
"Ahem."
The outside voice broke their bubble, and Angel froze, burying his face into Cordelia's shoulder, felt her stiffen against him, knowing she felt the problem, because she kept her hand on the nape of his neck, hiding the ridges of his face in the crook of her neck as she spoke to their interrupter.
"Rebecca."
The angry moan almost escaped, came out a whimper, as he pushed down the game face, rubbing his face against Cordelia's shoulder and finally pushing her back, letting her go to regard Rebecca's angry stony face.
--
SHIT.
Angel's hands were gentle on Cordelia's waist as she was let down, and she had no time to bother with shaky knees or her rapidly beating heart as the club owner gave them both a glare.
"Angel. You know the rules."
Cordelia's eyes shot to Angel, but he only gave an uncaring shrug, a sheepish smile on his face that said, 'Can you blame me?'
"The rules?"
Rebecca crossed her arms, her voice cold as she said, "We don't allow this. This is a business."
"Oh." Cordelia smoothed down her dress, licking her lips and leaning against the wall, letting the stone cold face take over.
"She didn't know," Angel said quickly.
"But you did." Rebecca was quiet, her one no nonsense as she motioned to the door. "Get inside. Rachel's asking for you."
He ducked his head, careful not to meet Cordelia's eyes as he moved around her and to the doorway.
"Angel."
He paused, and Rebecca didn't take her eyes of Cordelia as she added, "Another incident like this and you're fired."
He nodded, indicated he understood, and when he entered the club, Cordelia was left with the pieces.
She pulled out her compact, checking her hair and reapplying her lipstick as she said flippantly, "I didn't know, I'm sorry."
"You're new, you're entitled."
Cordelia's eyes flickered to Rebecca's, and a small smirk floated on her lips. "You've got a damn hot Floorboy, Rebecca."
"Mmm. I noticed you eyeing him."
Cordelia shrugged.
The hostess leaned against the club. "So how's David Nabbit?"
Cordelia's head swiveled and when Rebecca smiled, Cordelia only nodded. "I'm impressed."
"I have good connections."
"David is just fine. He's in a meeting again. He doesn't ask what I do, I don't complain about the long hours." Cordelia's voice was low, husky, but her face betrayed none of her inner turmoil, and Cordelia had to concede, she was a damn good actress.
"How long are you in town?"
"A week," Cordelia answered breezily. "Just here for a little fun."
Rebecca nodded, and then pushed away from the building, walking to the door.
She paused, her face clearly indicated that she was thinking, before she turned back to Cordelia.
"How about a little more fun?" Her cocked eyebrow indicated her curiosity, and Rebecca smiled, white teeth almost gleaming as she pushed a bang out of her face. "An intimate affair at Donald's."
"Donald's?"
"My partner."
"How intimate?" Cordelia asked.
The grin became clever, stunning almost on Rebecca's face. "Almost intimate enough for two. The entrance fee is a little steep but, I can guarantee, a slightly more comfortable arrangement with Angel."
Rebecca didn't spell it out, and that was part of the test, Cordelia knew. She worked it out for herself, knowing what Rebecca was proposing, and pretending to consider the offer.
"I get a guarantee with Angel?"
"You have my word."
Cordelia smiled, a prim smile of a cat who had just swallowed a canary. "I'm in."
"Great. I'll send the invitation to your hotel." Rebecca turned back, and once again faltered, before turning back. "One more thing." Her hand moved to her lapel and she plucked off the red rose, placing it into Cordelia's hand with a pin. "You'll need this. See you inside."
The door closed behind her, and Cordelia was left in the alley, holding the red rose in her palm.
--
Donald shifted his feet, wincing at the crash as he turned, seeing the ice sculpture now in two pieces on the floor.
The servant gave him a panicked look, and the older man rolled his eyes, breathing out a heavy sigh.
"Pick it up, and it comes out of your paycheck."
The servant nodded, and motioned to another man, as the two men carried the broken ice sculpture out of the room.
Donald moved into the center of the room, eyeing the couches and the tables that were set up.
Intimate affair his ass…
"Every time she plans these things they get-" The cellphone rang, and with an almost growl, Donald yanked it out of his pocket. "Hello?"
"Donald."
"What?"
"How're the preparations?"
He muffled a curse. "We just lost the ice sculpture."
"Well, I would worry. It's not like these women come for the food."
"Right." He shook his head.
"Make room for one more. And I want the special room."
"Oooh. Sounds promising."
"She's got potential." He heard the chuckle, could almost picture his partner leaning back in her office chair. "And it'll be Angel's first time."
"The new guy? He's fast."
"He gets the job done."
"We'll see." He clicked the phone shut, and moved forward, jogging up the stairs, past the row of bedrooms, feet sinking into the lush carpet and moving into the inconspicuous room on the left.
Once inside, he took a breath, and looked over the room.
Flipping on the light, he viewed every monitor, rechecked the wires, and made sure that every monitor had a clear view of every bed in every suite.
He nodded.
Every camera was working.
Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the door, and let himself out, locking the surveillance room behind him.
--
