The next evening brought with it the herald of a more or less pain free day for Cordelia. She didn't know if her sudden euphoria was due to a recession of pain or an increase in endorphins, but whichever it was, she was pleased with the results.
Stretching luxuriously in the warm and cozy bed, she smiled at the ceiling in pleasure. The throbbing in her temples was gone, as were the blurry edges to her vision and ringing in her ears. All in all, she was back to her old pre-LA self, except for the rising with the moon aspect of her day. Rolling over among the crumpled linens, she felt the cool floor meet her bare feet and send chills up her legs. One more day spent at the Hyperion, free of charge. She wondered how common that was, considering the strange slew of guests the hotel had claimed over the years.
Shrugging at her own thoughts, she padded softly to the door that stood slightly ajar. There were voices in the foyer, masculine voices that could only mean that all of her guys were there. She paused a moment before pushing the door open, her hand laying flat against the wood as she eavesdropped on the conversation. She wondered when they had become "her guys" and stopped just being Angel, Wes and Gunn. She couldn't quite make out their hushed words, and curiosity got the better if her, directing her hand to push the door slowly open.
"Yes, yes, Cordelia does seem to be improving at the moment. No, she's resting still, but the pain does appear to be diminishing. Hmm? How can we tell? She looks to be resting more easily now than she was before, one would assume it is due to a reduction in her misery. Angel, he's managing, as we all are. Cordelia has been a preoccupation in all of our thoughts as of late. Yes, thank you again, Rupert, we would appreciate any light you might shed on the situation. We hope to hear from you soon," Wesley related into the receiver, hanging the phone up when Giles had promised to do all he could to help the woman who had once been among his own group of children to protect.
"Cordelia?"
She turned to look across the room at Angel whose head had snapped up at the imperceptible sound of the opening door. He looked awful, she noticed immediately, knowing that she was the cause of his furrowed brow and haunted eyes. To allay some of his worry, she beamed at him and walked further in into the room.
"Cordy! How ya' feelin'?"
"Great, Gunn. What are all of you doing here? Isn't it a little late for a research session? We didn't get a client while I was sleeping, did we?" She continued moving toward Angel, but glanced over at the desk where Gunn and Wesley both watched her closely. "Hey, I'm fine. No need to watch me like a hawk."
"No new client, Cordelia, just something that came up and needed looking into."
She cut her eyes at Wesley, telling him without words that she knew exactly what they had been researching. "Sure. Did anyone think to call my apartment and let Dennis know what was going on?"
Gunn reached down to retrieve an overnight bag from behind the desk. "We did even better. Thought you'd like some clean clothes. Your ghost helped."
Cordelia laughed at the mental image of Dennis refusing to let anyone pack the bag until he knew what had happened and turned her attention back to Angel. He still looked worried. "Stop it."
Startled, Angel glanced around the room quickly before looking back to Cordelia. "Stop what?"
"That!" She gestured at him with a flamboyant wave of her hands. "It's bad enough that you already brood over Darla and Buffy, don't do it over me." She stopped short of reaching him, standing a few feet in front to his slumped form. "I feel great. There's nothing to brood about."
"Cord-"
"Cordelia nothing. Like I said, nothing to get all moody and broody about, so don't even think about doing it." She grinned and turned around to face Wesley. "So what did Giles have to say about the visions?"
~~~
Mr. Bruin scribbled his notes down as the lady he was interviewing paused to take a breath. He cast a sidelong look at her, examining her face more closely. How could she know these things she was telling him? It was almost as if she had experienced it first-hand, but that was impossible, or at least highly improbable.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
"Yes?" She shifted again against the silks and satins that surrounded her, an air of expectation hanging in the expression.
"I was wondering, would it be possible for you to explain exactly how you knew these people? I don't doubt the veracity of your story in the least, but it would make it a more believable tale if I had a name to attribute it to."
She smiled at his hedging question. He wanted her name. It was an honest question and a reasonable request, but he would have to be disappointed. "I understand your concern, Mr. Bruin, after all, I know your name don't I? Let me first finish my story and we can approach your questions then. Maybe you'll even decide that some questions simply aren't important any longer."
He paused for a moment, understanding that he would never learn her identity first-hand and already planning how to broach the subject with her hired help on his way out after his interview, before he nodded and smiled. He would accept anything he could get when it came to his pet project, even mystery interviews.
~~~
After changing into fresh clothes and listening to Wesley relate, in more words than were actually necessary, that Giles was as stumped as they were, Cordelia turned around to face Angel again, a teasing smile on her lips. "Come buy me a cup of coffee, it's a beautiful night and you owe me one."
They walked out of the hotel and headed down the block to the all-night coffee shop on the corner, passing darkened windows and barred doors along their way. The night was filled with noises: the hum of electric streetlights, blaring radios, distantly screeching tires on the oily pavement… It was a long call from Sunnydale and Cordelia, for one, was glad of it. She'd had enough of falsely quiet hellmouths to last her a lifetime, at least LA didn't try to pretend it was something it wasn't.
"You sure you're alright?"
She'd been waiting for the question ever since she'd walked out of his bedroom. She wouldn't be able to fool him so easily again now that she'd admitted to the severity of the visions and he wouldn't simply take her word for it that she was fine. She'd done that to herself by lying to him to begin with.
"I feel great, Angel." She caught the vague disbelief in his eyes. "I really do, I feel fantastic in fact. If this is what runner's high feels like, sign me up for the next marathon." Her joke slowly broke through his shell of concern and he smiled at her.
"But Angel…"
"What is it, Cordelia?"
"This new quest… trying to find a way to make the visions go away… I just…" stammering over the words, she sighed and tried again. "I don't want them to go away," she blurted out finally.
"Cordelia, what are you talking about? They're getting worse. Doyle had a hard time with them and he was half demon. Humans aren't equipped to deal with them." Angel stopped walking and snagged her arm lightly in his, pulling her around to face him. "They will eventually kill you."
"Well, duh!" she exaggerated, rolling her eyes and flipping one hand in the air. "Of course they're getting worse, I told you that last night. And yeah, I'm fully human, we already know that. If there had been any question about that, it would have been found out on Pylea with all the tests and sharp poking things. I'm just saying that maybe we could find a way to help make the side effects ease up a little. You know, make them more bearable but not make the visions go away. Kind of like some kind of demonic Prozac."
"Cordelia…"
"Please, Angel. At least say you'll talk to Wesley about it." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with fear and longing, and waited for him to respond in some way.
Angel never got the chance to tell her that he would talk it over with Wesley. The vision hit before he could voice his thought, knocking Cordelia off her feet and into his expectant arms. Grateful for the heavy shadows and lack of pedestrians on the section of sidewalk where they had paused, Angel clutched the woman to his chest while she screamed out in pain. Carefully wiping the tears from her cheeks as they fell, he waited for it to pass so he could rush her back to the hotel. Less than forty-eight hours between this vision and the last one… she couldn't possibly live like this. She couldn't want to live like this.
to be continued
