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.
--
Chapter Eight
--
The walk of shame.
Cordelia closed her eyes, heels clicking against the marble cobblestone as she looked back at the darkly lit mansion, feeling an unconscious shudder travel through her.
Moving down the steps, she noticed other woman leaving, on their faces expressions of relief, happiness… almost like kittens purring, their tummies filled with their mother's milk.
Inside Cordelia there was nothing but an ache that had refused to find release.
The limousine pulled up and she stepped in, sinking into the seat and blowing out her breath.
"Let's go home."
As the limousine moved through the narrow, curvy streets, Cordelia remained silent, lost in thought. She had picked up Angel's habit of brooding entirely too well, she realized.
Her fingers were shaking, but as her mind reeled with images of the night she had just passed with her best friend, there was one thing to smile about.
It was the trust that got them through, and, thankfully, it was the reason she was sitting there now, unfulfilled, in her dress that now felt uncomfortable and scratchy, heels that achingly pinched at her feet, and extensions that were beginning to add to her already painful headache.
But the smile faltered as the words Angel had said in the heat of the moment flooded through her. Fingers rubbing at her temples, Cordelia dealt with her sinking heart, knowing she would be haunted with those images, with these memories taken for the sake of a case, forever.
He loved her.
A grim smile floated upon her features and she shuddered, letting out one sob before grabbing a bottle of champagne from the cabinet in the leather chair and pouring herself a drink.
Where the hell were they going to go from here?
--
With a scowl, Wesley tossed the pad onto the table, leaning forward onto the desk and breathing out a heavy sigh of frustration.
"You okay?"
He was bloody getting tired of everybody asking him that.
Moving his hands away from his head, he looked up to find Cordelia standing hesitantly in the doorway, watching him in concern.
The extensions were still on her, dark strands cascading down her back, framing her face in curly tendrils.
He sometimes forgot just how beautiful she really was.
"Cordelia."
"Hey." Coming into the room, she dropped her purse on the nearby chair and sank into the one next to it, letting her breath out. "You okay?" she asked again.
He responded with a small, relieved smile. "I am now," he said honestly. "Truth be told, I was half afraid…"
He trailed off with a blush, as Cordelia gave him a blank stare, and then, as the realization of what he meant came, shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Wesley if there was any chance of that-"
"I know," he interrupted softly. "But… there were concerns."
There was no response. When he looked up, she finally just shrugged, her tone tinged with anger as she spit, "You know I would never let that-"
"There are things beyond our control," he interrupted, and finally just turned back to the pad. "I can't find anything on this."
She was breathing heavily now, torn between anger and denial, and finally she followed his lead, ignoring the obvious situation and leaning forward, taking the pad from him. Eyes roving over it, she swallowed and shoved it back. "That was as well as I could do it."
"I know."
"Wesley?"
He looked up, and her hazel tinted orbs were now darker, lips pursed into a soft frown. "I know that I haven't exactly been there for you, Wesley. I'm sorry."
"Cordelia…"
"I just…"
Footsteps on the staircase made her mouth clamp shut, and Wesley looked over her shoulder to see Angel pause in the doorway, eyes fixated on the figure seated in front of him.
"Angel. Good morning."
Cordelia shuffled again, Angel paused, eyes shifting between her and Wesley before finally clamping his hand on the doorway and pushing himself in.
"Hey."
Cordelia was visibly blushing, but it wasn't amusing.
In Wesley's opinion, it was almost heartbreaking to watch, as Angel shoved his hands into his pockets, the pair standing side by side, almost afraid to look at each other.
"Any luck?" Angel finally ventured, breaking the awkward silence.
"I'm afraid not," Wesley said, leaning back in his chair. "At best my theory is that it is a Greek deity, but which one…" he waved his hand, sighing.
Again with the silence.
"Well… "
The phone rang, and when both Cordelia and Angel made an attempt to scramble for the door, Wesley intercepted them both. "I'll get it."
He moved out of the office, leaving them to stare at each other in silence.
--
Fred wondered if she had done something wrong.
Seated on the passenger side of the truck, she viewed Gunn's face flicker with unreadable expressions, as he looked at her and then back at the road, with eyes of a scientist.
He hadn't said one word since this morning, and aside from the tacos that were now perched on her lap, he hadn't moved to touch her once.
"Charles?"
"Hmm?"
Fred felt something slightly queasy settle in her stomach, swallowed nervously, and asked timidly, "Did we have a fight that I don't know about?"
His head jerked in her direction, visibly surprised, and she felts slightly better when he coughed, shaking his head no. "No, of course not, baby doll."
"Oh." She bit her lip, looking down at her lap and then up at the stop sign as the truck drifted to a stop. "I just…"
"So you and Wesley."
She blinked at the interruption, mouth parting slightly. "Me and Wesley what?"
His grip tightened around the steering wheel, and Fred, openly confused, waited as he began to open and close his mouth like a gutted fish.
"You… friends, right?"
"Of course. I love Wesley…" Bewildered, she shrugged her shoulders, still completely confused.
"So… when you say you LOVE him…" Charles' voice had taken on a curious tone now, and it befuddled Fred more than ever.
What was he talking about?
"Charles…"
"If umm…" Jerking suddenly, the truck veered to a stop in front of a newsstand, and he turned to her, "Look Fred I need you to stay away from Wesley."
Her mouth parted in surprise, and immediately he blushed, shifting in his seat. "That came out wrong. What I meant was… You and me… he likes you, okay?"
The mouth stayed open.
Thoughts were whirling through poor Fred's brain, as her boyfriend continued to stutter through his explanation of exactly what was wrong.
When it was over, she still wasn't sure she got exactly what had happened.
Wesley was… what?
In the middle of a case this was coming out?
Fred had never been one for incompetence or for waste of time. Even in Pylea she had often planned her schedule in her cave, nervous about wasted energy and wasted and time and unreasonable and illogical assumptions.
This was quite clearly, incredibly illogical.
Taking a breath, she shifted again, pushing the tacos in between them and crossing her legs, running fingers through her hair.
"I… see."
"Fred?"
Pulling herself into the corner of the seat, her thoughts continued to whirl. A knot of something tight settled in her stomach, and it wasn't comfortable at all. "You think that just because Wesley has a crush on me that you can't trust him? Or me?"
Her eyes flashed, and Gunn looked taken aback by it.
Fred had learned enough from Cordelia to know that he knew whatever kind of reaction he was looking for, this wasn't it.
"No, Fred-"
"After all that we've been through as a family, as a group-"
"Fred-"
Suddenly he paused, and jerked open the door, leaving her speaking alone in the car. "Gunn?"
Moving quickly, he ran to the newsstand, fishing into his pocket and grabbing a paper, paying the man and running back into the truck.
"Charles are you ignoring our first argument?"
"Baby doll, look."
Fred jerked the paper out of his hand, not caring at all if he garnered a paper cut, and clapped open the page, looking at the headline.
She gasped, her stomach plummeting.
--
"So…"
"So…"
Trying to find anything to keep his fidgeting hands occupied, Angel paced to the desk, picking up a pencil, fiddling with it, until his nervous fingers dropped it and it went clattering to the floor.
Cordelia saw it drop, and he flushed, stepping away from the desk.
The quiet was dreadful, horrific, and it shouldn't have been there. It shouldn't have… Cordelia and he had promised each other they would get through it…
And here they were… through it… they had had … 'faux sex' and they had come out of it with soul intact and…
Cordelia was laughing.
He blinked, cocking his head, knocked out of his broody reverie by the sight of his friend collapsing into giggles in the chair.
"Cordy?"
She was convulsing, hand clapped over her mouth as her shoulders shook with mirth.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, face red from the exertion. "It's just I looked at you and suddenly I was like, 'I saw Angel naked!'"
He shifted his weight, eyebrow rising as he tried to figure out what was funny about that.
"Uh… how is that funny?" he asked pointedly.
She couldn't help but laugh harder, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pointed a shaky finger. "Can you… *gasp* it's just… you and me- can you imagine what Xander would say? Or Buffy? 'Hey Buffy! How are you? I'm fine, by the way, I had fake sex with Angel last night!" Still bewildered, he found a smile emerging on his face. "Oh, yeah! Did I mention he's a stripper now?" she continued, heaving in breaths.
He crossed his arms, tried to look stern, but found a conceding smile overtaking that. "I can see that," he said, leaning back against the desk. "No one would have expected that a few years ago." His dark eyes looked down at the young face, found something inside him tugging on his soul. She was right… he had seen her… naked.
Cordelia. Cordelia was naked. And he was there.
"There is something… almost… incestuous about you and me," he admitted.
"Hey! Speak for yourself bucko! I never thought of you as my brother! Gross much?"
He grinned at the admission, eyes connecting with hers, before the grins and giggles faded. But the awkwardness was broken, thanks to Cordelia's landmark observations, and he was able to smile at his best friend who he had seen naked… touched and tasted and-
"So… had fun last night?" Her eyebrow rose as she tucked herself further into her chair, giving him a glare. "'Cause it… sounded like you… had fun…"
She continued to stare at him. "Angel," she said evenly, "You're not talking about the orgasm, are you?"
He coughed, suddenly red.
"Because you know I faked, right?"
"You faked?!" The words blurted out before he could stop him, and his inflated pride now deflated as quickly as a pricked balloon. "But… no way."
Her eyes grew rounder. "Oh my God. You honestly thought I could actually – in THAT situation?"
"Well…" he shuffled, suddenly wishing for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. "You … sounded… I smelled…"
"You smelled?!"
"But-"
"Angel!"
"Cause- you did NOT fake! No one's ever faked on-"
"Do you WANT Me to go 'When Harry Met Sally' on your ass?!" She stood, arms crossed, glaring at him challengingly.
"Guys!" Gunn burst into the room, and Cordelia moved away automatically, settling back down into her chair as Fred came with him, putting the box of tacos on the empty seat next to her.
Wesley reentered the room, steps faltering as he noticed Gunn and Fred, and their differing reactions to him.
Fred smiled. Gunn very nearly glared.
Angel's beeper went off, and the vampire quickly reached for his pocket. "Dancehall," he muttered. "I'll go call."
Angel moved past the group, throwing another look toward Cordelia.
She responded by sticking her tongue out at him.
"Cordelia! Get some last night?"
"Bite me, Gunn. Where on earth did you get tacos at this hour?" Cordelia asked, taking one foil wrapped package from Fred.
"Gunn and I made them!" Fred said, setting them on her lap as she sat down. "They're breakfast tacos!"
Her expression frozen, Cordelia immediately pushed them away.
"Not hungry, but thanks!"
"Something wrong, Gunn?" Wesley asked, crossing his arms. Gunn looked a little wary, but just nodded and thrust the paper into his hands.
"Read that."
Wesley opened up the paper, scanning the headline.
Cordelia was curious, dread overtaking that emotion when she saw Gunn and Fred's faces.
Her heart quivered. "Wes?"
"Cordelia, do you know this woman?" He turned the paper so that it was facing her. Cordelia leaned forward, and suddenly her eyes closed, her body slumping back into the chair. "I take it that's a yes," he asked gently.
Fred bit her lip as Cordelia nodded hesitantly. "Name's Heather Silvers. She was a visiting chick. Kinda like me."
Gunn took the paper back, "Found last night, dead… slit open."
"Was she at the party?"
Cordelia nodded hesitantly.
"Shit."
Fred shuffled. "What are we going to do?"
"Confront Rebecca tonight," Cordelia said, straightening up. "We've been lying on our backs- or sitting on our asses-" she amended, "Too long. We take care of this tonight."
"I'm dancing tonight," Angel announced, walking back into the room, taking the paper from Wesley when it was handed to him. "Crap."
His eyes locked with Cordelia and she nodded.
"Would you like some help?" Wesley offered.
"No," Angel said, shaking his head. "We need answers before we do anything. We'll give you a call if we need anything."
"I'll keep researching here, " Wesley said, sitting back in the chair reaching for his piles of files. "Perhaps the way Heather was cut will provide some insight into the ritual that is used."
"I can help," Fred offered, and that earned her a smile from the Englishman.
Gunn immediately grabbed her hand, pulling her back. "I'm sure English can do it just find on his own."
Wesley blanched. Fred noticed the reaction, anger rising in her at Charles' irrational behavior, and she glared, shrugging him off with a furious tug. "Ah'm helpin' him tonight, Gunn," she snapped.
Her eyes caught Cordelia form as she walked out of the office silently, and with another glare to her boyfriend, she followed.
--
The courtyard was chirping with birds, the sun was shining, and it was almost pleasant.
Just when Cordelia wanted it broody and dark.
Figured.
"Hey."
Cordelia tossed young physicist a distracted smile as she waited hesitantly at the end of the bench.
"Hey, Fred."
"Can I sit?"
"I wouldn't mind."
Carefully, Fred sat, palms flat against the stone bench, looking at Cordelia nervously. "Are you okay?" she finally asked.
Cordelia shrugged, sighing. "Not really no. Heather was a loud bitch but she didn't deserve to die."
"We'll find out who's responsible."
"What if we already know who it is but are just taking too long to find it?" Cordelia snapped in self directed anger.
Fred pursed her lips, but said nothing.
When she spoke again, her voice was softer, more hesitant. "What about last night?"
Immediately a guarded expression fluttered over the May Queen's face. "What about last night?"
"Are you okay? About that?"
Cordelia offered a grim smile. "You'd think I'd be all screwed up about it huh? I mean, it was hard, Fred. Really… hard… "
"Ah bet…"
"No, not that-" Cordelia looked almost shocked, but Fred only blushed and she reverted to a smile shaking her head. "Pervert."
Fred giggled.
"No, I meant…"
"Ah know what you meant. I was… jokin'."
"It was a good joke."
"Really?"
Cordelia grinned. "Yeah."
Fred smiled.
The quiet remained, and Cordelia wistfully added, "I don't know where to go from here."
"I don't know if anyone ever does." The Seer closed her eyes, took a breath, and nodded.
When she opened them, she was ready to face the world, and her task.
Standing, she gently pushed at the young scientist, grabbing Fred by the hand.
"Come on, Nutty. Let's go see if Larry, Moe and Curly actually left any of those weird breakfast taco things for us."
Once they were inside, Cordelia was distracted by Angel in the lobby, as he began to ask her something in a whispered tone that inferred it was only for the Seer's eyes.
Fred didn't mind, she was having her own problems.
Stepping into the office, the blatant hostility on Gunn's part directed at Wesley was almost overwhelming.
The anger that had only been simmering was now close to boiling at the look of anguish on Wesley's face, and the look of blind jealousy on Gunn's.
There was so many things wrong with this situation she had no idea where to even begin.
Determined to be an adult about the situation, and not wish to be magically jolted out of the love triangle from hell, Fred balled her hands into fists and took a breath, choosing instead to ignore it… for now.
Coming forward, she sat down in the chair, grabbing the notes she had compiled and rifling through them.
"We need to find a way to help them," she began, eyes shifting between the two men. "We can't let them do this alone."
"What can we do" Wesley asked, sinking down into his chair, hands tangled together, "that we aren't doing already?"
"You got me, Wes," Gunn said, moving into the chair next to Fred.
"Maybe we can figure out something tonight," she offered.
Despite her patience, when Gunn opened his mouth to protest, it was quiet simply the last straw for her frazzled nerves.
Annoyance and hurt at his lack of trust splintered through her and she glared at him, sitting up and shouting to the door, "Cordelia!"
Four seconds later, Angel and Cordelia both stuck their heads in the office. "Yeah Fred?" she asked impatiently, apparently not pleased at being interrupted.
"Can I go with you tonight?" she asked politely, throwing a thumb in Wesley's direction. "Gunn can help Wesley."
Charles flinched at the cold use of his last name, but Fred was beyond caring.
Cordelia glanced at Angel, who shrugged. "Sure. I guess."
"Thanks." Fred smiled and got up. "I think I'll go pick what I'm going to wear."
"Fred!"
Gunn scrambled after her, pushing past Cordelia and Angel, catching Fred by the elbow as she moved up the stairs. "What are you so pissed about?"
"You have to ask?" Fred snapped, snatching her hand away from his grasp. He looked at her helplessly. "You're in there treatin' Wesley like some…stranger and you're treating me like… some…" she huffed, wiping her bangs out of her face. "I thought you trusted me."
Gunn looked flabbergasted, and his tone was timid, gentle, "Baby, I do-"
"Don't you baby doll me. Ah know I'm not… all knowledgeable about… stuff when it comes to relationships but I know a thing or two about friendship and I think I liked that better that this…"
"Fred!"
"At least you trusted me when we were just friends, Gunn!" Her eyes suddenly began to sparkle and Gunn found himself rooted to the spot as she scrambled up the stairs, running away from him.
Closing his eyes, he grunted in frustration, kicking at the stairs with all his might, turning back around and finding his three co-workers staring up at him in wide-eyed shock.
He glared at them all, and wisely, Cordelia pushed Angel and Wesley back into the office, leaving him alone.
Letting his knees buckle, he sat down at the stairs, torn between wanting to go up and demand Fred open the door so they could talk, and staying right here, and letting his heart splinter into a million pieces, wondering if she was right.
But it had gone too far now…
He smiled grimly.
Here she was, the one who claimed not to know a thing about relationships and he was the one feeling like a first class asshole.
He had lived for years on the streets, survived on his guts and kept people alive…
But he let everyone down.
And he had let even little Fred down.
He buried his head in his hands, ignoring Cordelia as she jogged around him, up the stairs, to Fred's room.
--
Fred jerked her dress off the hanger, throwing it on her bed, resisting the urge to grab the pen and scribble out her frustration on the walls.
Her eyes were stinging with tears, and she wiped them away fiercely, moving back to the closet and choosing another dress, tossing it beside the first.
The door creaked open slightly, and Fred glanced back, noting Cordelia leaning against the door with a curiously closed expression on her face.
Fred ignored her, moving again to the closet, shoving another dress off the hanger to add to the pile.
"Don't say it," she began stammering, "Ah don't care if he's hurt or mad 'cause he hurt me too! I … love hurts and I knew it and I did it anyway – and why doesn't he trust me? Does he even – and no I had to say those things to him and he probably thinks that – you know what? I don't care what he thinks because Gunn is just… he's a MAN and I'm probably better off with Wesley ANYWAY. Because Wesley's my friend and he knows about books and he probably wouldn't get jealous…" With that she crumpled, sinking down onto the floor, drawing her knees to her body, tears spilling from her eyes.
Cordelia watched silently, and finally entered the room, closing the door behind her and reaching for a package of Kleenex, coming forward and settling beside Fred.
"Wear the red dress," she said finally, carefully wiping the tears from Fred's eyes. "It looks great with your skin tone, and I've got some shoes that would match perfectly." Fred gazed at her in wonder, but Cordelia only smiled simply. "And you have to stop crying. I can't do anything about puffy eyes, and I'm a woman. Waterworks only work with men."
She sniffled, and Cordelia's easy grin made her grin shakily back, as the Seer wrapped an arm around her and Fred leaned forward, resting her head on Cordelia's shoulder, taking comfort in her friend.
"It doesn't get easier, does it?" she found herself whispering.
Cordelia was quiet, stroking her shoulder thoughtfully. "No," she remarked finally, "it never does. But Fred."
"Hmm."
"In the end, they're worth it."
Fred closed her eyes, feeling her heart shuddering within her.
She hoped so. She really hoped so.
