DISCLAIMER: If it's yours, it isn't mine.
DEDICATION: Molly, the only girl that can pun just as stingingly as the Buffster herself.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just a little fluff between Angel and Cordelia, though I'm still a B/A shipper through and through. After the "Birthday" episode.
NEED
I can feel the coolness radiating from his skin. Ironically this certain vampire, the one cursed with a soul, can feel cold, yet make me feel so much the opposite. I run my fingers through his gelled brown spikes of hair, tracing circles over his unbeating heart. And there it is! A flash of a smile for the merest of moments. The darkened sky that is his eyes, the pale complexion, the devilishly wonderful abdomen, all make this encounter seem like a dream. Then this warrior for the Powers That Be crushes his lips against mine, and I melt into his embrace, protected and content.
"Cordy? You okay?"
I'm disturbed from my daydreaming by his voice, so amiable and warm, a hint of concern within those pleasant tones. I look up at him, only to see that same smile I envisioned in my fantasy, adorable in it's slightness. I return the smile, trying to shake off the blissful reverie he creates around me to concentrate on whatever the conversation is about.
"Um, yeah. Just trying to comprehend the levitating thing." I lie, mentioning the events that took place on my birthday.
"Well, Wesley's looking into it," Angel says, glancing down at the bundle of blue blankets that cradled his infant son as he rested in his arms. He nearly beamed with happiness, the way he always does when he looks at his child. He looked back at me, the smile showing no sign of fading. "I was just saying that he might need a blood sample from you."
"After a couple of years of blinding agony in my mind and almost having the back of my skull blown out, I don't think a little needle prick is going to break me." I quip, reaching a hand towards Connor to tickle his chin. Angel pulls him from my touch for a moment, taking a quick look at my hands.
"Did you wash your hands this time?" He asks, seriously considering not letting me near the baby until I was pathogen-free.
"Yes," I reply, extending a finger towards the baby's face. Angel shies away again. I look up at him exasperatedly.
"With the antibacterial soap?"
His continued questioning summons a sigh from me, and I nod. "Yes, now will you stop being stingy with the sweetie? Come on, make with the cuddling already!"
Almost reluctantly, he lets me hold him. As Connor is lowered into my arms, I can't help but feel a little jealous. Something so exquisitely wonderful that has brought joy to all those in his presence, and he was brought into the world by Darla. I don't mean to belittle what she did for her baby, but I think that the honor of birthing this child should have fallen upon someone a little more deserving. Like me. I'm envious of Darla. She got to have Angel inside of her, over and over again, and not only did he not lose his soul, but they got this little wonder out of the deal. A small part, no, more than a small part, wishes that Connor was mine. But I can't change his lineage.
These thoughts are forced out of my mind by a vision. Not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, someone-in-grave-danger vision. A memory of sorts. Seeing Angel clutching his knees to his chest, so tormented by his past, his agony amplified by the visionary gift he would have been bestowed had I not been. The pain and anguish drove him to insanity, but a kiss, one kiss from me, corrected it all. Made it all better. It was then I realized that the statement I've said so many times has more than one meaning. Not just for my visions, but for my presence, for my love. He needs me.
And I need him.
All this time everyone's been unanimous in their thinking that if Angel ever became human, he'd simply return to Buffy. But he has a responsibility to this city, and now to this child. Buffy would certainly not agree with or accept the act that brought young Connor into this world. She'd be furious. Even if she understood and accepted it, they have separate lives now. Angel has his own life here in Los Angeles, his own friends, his own task. He needs someone that can be with him not just on vacations or holidays, someone that has been with him all along. Someone to laugh and cry and hurt and fight with. Someone to help him with his son and to support him in his battles. He needs me.
And I need him.
As much as I keep telling myself that, I can't find the words to tell him. If I could, where would we go from there? What would that mean? And how long am I going to stare blankly at this child while I converse with my inner self?
I snap out of my trance, looking around to see if anyone noticed my catatonic state. They didn't. Fred was upstairs in her room, Gunn was listening to hip-hop on his CD player, and Angel was talking to Wesley in his office, most likely about me. I hear my name called, and it confirms my assumption. It's Angel.
"Cordy, I need you."
I blink, not quite sure I heard what I thought I heard as I rise to my feet. "What?"
"Wesley's going to take that blood sample now. Come on in."
Angel stands in the doorway, ready to take Connor from me as I enter. Once he's safely in his father's arms, I sit in front of Wesley's desk, watching him prepare a hypodermic needle. A needle that doesn't seem so big. Kind of puny, really. No problem. I tilt my head towards the doorway to watch Angel leave and shake Gunn's shoulder to tell him to take the baby out for some sunshine. Gunn agrees and supports the baby with his arms, standing and walking out of my sight.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the needle going for the inside of my elbow. It suddenly seems a lot bigger. I feel the slightest tingle as it grazes a tiny hair, and...
"ANGEL!"
Wesley looks bewildered. "I didn't even touch you yet."
He hears my cry, dashing into the office and kneeling in front of me, taking my hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly. "What? What is it? What's wrong?" His voice is nearly panicked, and I have to smile to hide my immaturity. I give his hand a gentle squeeze, wondering if he noticed it.
"I was going to ask if you could hold my hand while he..." I didn't want to finish. The very thought of the needle puncturing my skin and draining me of my most precious resource made me feel faint. "...but you're already doing that."
Angel smiled, not judging me in the least. He placed his other hand on top of mine, comfortingly blanketing it. His skin wasn't icy, it was cool. Actually kind of cozy. "It's okay. I'm right here."
Wesley started again, and I shut my eyes tightly, squeezing Angel's hands as hard as I could. Not on purpose, just to make sure he was there. Like there's any other place he would be if I needed him.
"All done," I hear Wesley say as I open my eyes, "I'll analyze it right away."
I breathe a sigh of relief, glancing over at Angel with a smile. "Thanks."
"Anytime." He reciprocated my smile with a smirk of his own, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek as he stood. I lifted a hand to my cheek, tracing my fingertips lightly over the spot where his lips touched. I sat perfectly still for a moment, listening to his footsteps as he exited. Getting farther away. I need him near me. Not getting farther away.
"I love you." The words just came out. I don't know what made them or why I didn't stop them, but they did. I heard his footsteps stop. As I looked back, I realized he was only in the doorway. He slowly turned to face me, the shocked expression on his face slowly being overcome by a smile.
"I love you too, Cordy."
I beamed. I knew he meant it. What seemed like a cordial exchange of sentiment between friends was actually an admission on both our parts, true in every since of the word. Or maybe it was only in my mind. Maybe he didn't feel like I did, or didn't mean it in the same way...
My thoughts died away to nothing at the sensation of his lips pressed against mine. This warrior for the Powers That Be had crushed his lips against mine, and I melted into his embrace, protected and content. Any doubts I had faded away as he held me, neither of us aware of a very stunned Wesley gawking at us from behind his microscope. We needed each other too much to make room for anyone else right now.
"You know, for a guy that's supposed to be super cryptic, that wasn't too subtle."
Angel smiled and kissed me again, a welcome act. "I've been trying to tell you for long time now. Subtle doesn't work well on you."
"Point taken," I said, circling my arms around his neck, "Now, do you mind kissing me some more? Sometimes obvious doesn't work on me either." My inner self went "Yay!" as he indulged me, kissing me long and hard.
Wesley blinked. "Did I miss something?"
-----
(Review if you read.)
DEDICATION: Molly, the only girl that can pun just as stingingly as the Buffster herself.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just a little fluff between Angel and Cordelia, though I'm still a B/A shipper through and through. After the "Birthday" episode.
NEED
I can feel the coolness radiating from his skin. Ironically this certain vampire, the one cursed with a soul, can feel cold, yet make me feel so much the opposite. I run my fingers through his gelled brown spikes of hair, tracing circles over his unbeating heart. And there it is! A flash of a smile for the merest of moments. The darkened sky that is his eyes, the pale complexion, the devilishly wonderful abdomen, all make this encounter seem like a dream. Then this warrior for the Powers That Be crushes his lips against mine, and I melt into his embrace, protected and content.
"Cordy? You okay?"
I'm disturbed from my daydreaming by his voice, so amiable and warm, a hint of concern within those pleasant tones. I look up at him, only to see that same smile I envisioned in my fantasy, adorable in it's slightness. I return the smile, trying to shake off the blissful reverie he creates around me to concentrate on whatever the conversation is about.
"Um, yeah. Just trying to comprehend the levitating thing." I lie, mentioning the events that took place on my birthday.
"Well, Wesley's looking into it," Angel says, glancing down at the bundle of blue blankets that cradled his infant son as he rested in his arms. He nearly beamed with happiness, the way he always does when he looks at his child. He looked back at me, the smile showing no sign of fading. "I was just saying that he might need a blood sample from you."
"After a couple of years of blinding agony in my mind and almost having the back of my skull blown out, I don't think a little needle prick is going to break me." I quip, reaching a hand towards Connor to tickle his chin. Angel pulls him from my touch for a moment, taking a quick look at my hands.
"Did you wash your hands this time?" He asks, seriously considering not letting me near the baby until I was pathogen-free.
"Yes," I reply, extending a finger towards the baby's face. Angel shies away again. I look up at him exasperatedly.
"With the antibacterial soap?"
His continued questioning summons a sigh from me, and I nod. "Yes, now will you stop being stingy with the sweetie? Come on, make with the cuddling already!"
Almost reluctantly, he lets me hold him. As Connor is lowered into my arms, I can't help but feel a little jealous. Something so exquisitely wonderful that has brought joy to all those in his presence, and he was brought into the world by Darla. I don't mean to belittle what she did for her baby, but I think that the honor of birthing this child should have fallen upon someone a little more deserving. Like me. I'm envious of Darla. She got to have Angel inside of her, over and over again, and not only did he not lose his soul, but they got this little wonder out of the deal. A small part, no, more than a small part, wishes that Connor was mine. But I can't change his lineage.
These thoughts are forced out of my mind by a vision. Not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, someone-in-grave-danger vision. A memory of sorts. Seeing Angel clutching his knees to his chest, so tormented by his past, his agony amplified by the visionary gift he would have been bestowed had I not been. The pain and anguish drove him to insanity, but a kiss, one kiss from me, corrected it all. Made it all better. It was then I realized that the statement I've said so many times has more than one meaning. Not just for my visions, but for my presence, for my love. He needs me.
And I need him.
All this time everyone's been unanimous in their thinking that if Angel ever became human, he'd simply return to Buffy. But he has a responsibility to this city, and now to this child. Buffy would certainly not agree with or accept the act that brought young Connor into this world. She'd be furious. Even if she understood and accepted it, they have separate lives now. Angel has his own life here in Los Angeles, his own friends, his own task. He needs someone that can be with him not just on vacations or holidays, someone that has been with him all along. Someone to laugh and cry and hurt and fight with. Someone to help him with his son and to support him in his battles. He needs me.
And I need him.
As much as I keep telling myself that, I can't find the words to tell him. If I could, where would we go from there? What would that mean? And how long am I going to stare blankly at this child while I converse with my inner self?
I snap out of my trance, looking around to see if anyone noticed my catatonic state. They didn't. Fred was upstairs in her room, Gunn was listening to hip-hop on his CD player, and Angel was talking to Wesley in his office, most likely about me. I hear my name called, and it confirms my assumption. It's Angel.
"Cordy, I need you."
I blink, not quite sure I heard what I thought I heard as I rise to my feet. "What?"
"Wesley's going to take that blood sample now. Come on in."
Angel stands in the doorway, ready to take Connor from me as I enter. Once he's safely in his father's arms, I sit in front of Wesley's desk, watching him prepare a hypodermic needle. A needle that doesn't seem so big. Kind of puny, really. No problem. I tilt my head towards the doorway to watch Angel leave and shake Gunn's shoulder to tell him to take the baby out for some sunshine. Gunn agrees and supports the baby with his arms, standing and walking out of my sight.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the needle going for the inside of my elbow. It suddenly seems a lot bigger. I feel the slightest tingle as it grazes a tiny hair, and...
"ANGEL!"
Wesley looks bewildered. "I didn't even touch you yet."
He hears my cry, dashing into the office and kneeling in front of me, taking my hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly. "What? What is it? What's wrong?" His voice is nearly panicked, and I have to smile to hide my immaturity. I give his hand a gentle squeeze, wondering if he noticed it.
"I was going to ask if you could hold my hand while he..." I didn't want to finish. The very thought of the needle puncturing my skin and draining me of my most precious resource made me feel faint. "...but you're already doing that."
Angel smiled, not judging me in the least. He placed his other hand on top of mine, comfortingly blanketing it. His skin wasn't icy, it was cool. Actually kind of cozy. "It's okay. I'm right here."
Wesley started again, and I shut my eyes tightly, squeezing Angel's hands as hard as I could. Not on purpose, just to make sure he was there. Like there's any other place he would be if I needed him.
"All done," I hear Wesley say as I open my eyes, "I'll analyze it right away."
I breathe a sigh of relief, glancing over at Angel with a smile. "Thanks."
"Anytime." He reciprocated my smile with a smirk of his own, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek as he stood. I lifted a hand to my cheek, tracing my fingertips lightly over the spot where his lips touched. I sat perfectly still for a moment, listening to his footsteps as he exited. Getting farther away. I need him near me. Not getting farther away.
"I love you." The words just came out. I don't know what made them or why I didn't stop them, but they did. I heard his footsteps stop. As I looked back, I realized he was only in the doorway. He slowly turned to face me, the shocked expression on his face slowly being overcome by a smile.
"I love you too, Cordy."
I beamed. I knew he meant it. What seemed like a cordial exchange of sentiment between friends was actually an admission on both our parts, true in every since of the word. Or maybe it was only in my mind. Maybe he didn't feel like I did, or didn't mean it in the same way...
My thoughts died away to nothing at the sensation of his lips pressed against mine. This warrior for the Powers That Be had crushed his lips against mine, and I melted into his embrace, protected and content. Any doubts I had faded away as he held me, neither of us aware of a very stunned Wesley gawking at us from behind his microscope. We needed each other too much to make room for anyone else right now.
"You know, for a guy that's supposed to be super cryptic, that wasn't too subtle."
Angel smiled and kissed me again, a welcome act. "I've been trying to tell you for long time now. Subtle doesn't work well on you."
"Point taken," I said, circling my arms around his neck, "Now, do you mind kissing me some more? Sometimes obvious doesn't work on me either." My inner self went "Yay!" as he indulged me, kissing me long and hard.
Wesley blinked. "Did I miss something?"
-----
(Review if you read.)
