By Misty Flores – mistyjox@hotmail.com
Teaser: Lorne has his hands full when three men who love three brunettes reveal three stories that meld surprisingly – and the three brunettes go missing.
Genre: Angel: The Series, Comedy/Romance/Action
Pairing: Angel/Cordelia, Gunn/Fred, Wesley/Faith
Rating: R for sexual situations
Special Thanks to: Vanessa, and her beautiful beta reading abilities.
Additional Notes on Chapters
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CHAPTER SIX
--
The Present – Kate Lockley's Apartment
"And then?"
Cordelia sighed, running a towel through her wet hair, grimacing as the wet strands stuck to her skin. "And then nothing. Wednesday and Thursday just kinda… went."
Noting with some aggravation that Cordelia had managed to find the only wool towels she had, Kate gave an annoyed frown. "What do you mean?"
"Everybody avoided everybody else," Fred supplied helpfully. "Cordelia was still on her 'days off', so she just came in and out of the hotel, and Angel kept sayin' he was busy, always slinkin' off and stuff, so we never really saw him."
The tell-tale blue eyes of the ex-detective focused on Faith. "But, what about your -"
The Slayer, who up until this moment had appeared distracted and forlorn, now snapped her head back to meet Kate's searching gaze. "It doesn't matter what I did," Faith snapped.
Cordelia stiffened, and Kate herself looked startled, orbs flashing once. "Faith -"
"Doesn't fucking matter, okay?" Faith snapped, rubbing at her neck. "I had my own shit to deal with and I dealt with it."
"Typical Faith," Cordelia answered dryly, crossing her arms as she studied the Slayer. "Not exactly open and sharing when it comes to her underworld connections."
"Oh, why don't you fucking bite me, Cordelia!" Faith snapped, an angry snarl in her voice that made Fred jump. Kate glanced at her desk - specifically, the third drawer that held her gun. "It was my own business."
But the Ice Queen appeared unfazed by Faith's erratic temper. "Right. And that's why you met with that Justine chick and that's why you had your own little chat with Holtz."
Startled, Faith jerked her head back to Cordelia, the passive expression on her making the Slayer respond with a lilted sentence. "How did you -"
"I didn't. Wesley did. You may have stayed away from him, but he didn't stay away from you."
Faith closed her eyes, hands suddenly hiding her face from them all, ignoring the silent room. "I know," she responded, her voice broken and uneven. "He told me."
--
Thursday Evening – The Hyperion Hotel
Charles Gunn had to admire Fred's gumption. In the last two days, he had attempted every single thing he could think of to convince Fred that going with him was not safe, but the young woman stuck to her guns.
In the end she told him that if he did not stop trying to convince her not to go, or even thought about leaving without her, she would simply walk into Angel's room. Or place a phone call to the absentee Cordelia. And knowing that she was incapable of telling a lie, she would simply let things spill.
Charles knew the validity of such a threat and never had he been more thankful that Angel chose this moment to become broody and reclusive, staying in his room with his child and leaving at night, dark and silent, before coming home only to sleep.
Fred openly wondered if something was wrong but, true to her word, she stayed away from Angel, ever afraid that she would give herself, and Gunn, away. With one look, she could begin to ramble.
The crazy convict chick had taken to hiding too and it seemed that Angel Investigations was now in a state of vacation. Gunn was slightly confused as Wesley, himself and Fred seemed to be the only ones coming to the office during regular hours. The quiet days of Wednesday and Thursday slipped by almost without incident, despite Gunn's fear that something would happen to make him slip and give himself away. Honestly, it was the other people that he was more worried about.
Lorne was also becoming a problem. Knowing that the Pylean could take one look at Fred or himself and know exactly what was going on - and remembering about the sore spot the Host had concerning a certain group of ex-gang members - Charles felt downright nervous every time he spotted their newest roommate.
But the truth was it seemed everyone was avoiding Lorne, to the point that he heard the Host bemoaning that it seemed he had developed some sort of 'cooties'. Taking refuge with Connor, Lorne could be heard on the baby monitor, making cooing noises and talking at length with an exasperated Connor, and Fred and Gunn, glancing at each other from across the counter, would have smiled in amusement if they had not both turned back to Wesley and noticed the brooding thing coming back.
Wesley, too, was acting weird. He had taken the day off on Wednesday, came in on Thursday with a bruise on his jaw, and when Fred asked him what happened, he responded - pretty rudely - that he had walked into a door. Gunn had been dubious - Wesley was clumsy, but not that clumsy - but when he tried to call English on it he instead had been subject to a tirade about proper office dress code.
THAT ended up in an argument about the length of Cordelia's miniskirts, one that was only cut short when the Faith chick - who he STILL had yet to have a real conversation with - jogged down the stairs, pulled on a tight black jean jacket and bolted out the door. Wesley had said something about closing down the office for the day and, without another word, had pulled on his own jacket and ran upstairs.
Charles blinked, sighed, and then turned to speak to Fred about the weirdness of these events, only to find she was no longer around. Calling her name, he finally found her in her room, a black felt pen in her hand, staring blankly at the wall. Charles paused, fists tightening around the door, and slowly her name was whispered. "Fred."
She paused, turning back to catch his eye, and letting a soft blush move over her features, wrapping her fingers around the pen. "I… had a thought."
Charles gave her a long stare as he moved towards the bed, raising a foot over fast food wrappers and empty coke bottles; gazing about the room with new eyes.
She continued to stare at her scrawls but she noticeably shuddered when he sank his weight down next to her, a large, heavy arm settling hesitantly around her waist and pressing into the sheets. Fred closed her eyes, hitching in her breath as Gunn leaned forward and rested his chin on her forehead. She felt the exhale of his warm breath on her shoulder, his firm chest pressing against her, the smell of his cologne drifting into her nostrils.
It was a warmth she had almost forgotten, and it distracted her, breaking her mind from thoughts of the lyrics on the wall. It was enough to make her jump in surprise when his fingers tangled in hers - warm - sending tingles up to her elbows until the pen had been taken and placed on the dresser.
"Fred."
"I'm sorry, Charles," she blew out hesitantly. "It's just… hard. Keeping a secret is hard. I had to…" she waved her fingers to wall. "To get it down."
He was quiet, but when he did speak, with his thigh pressing against hers - so alone in this big hotel - Fred detected a sense of brokenness. "Girl, you ain't got nothing to be sorry about. You tell Angel, and Cordelia, and all of them. You tell them. You should."
Surprised, she gave him a started glare. "You think I'd betray your trust?"
At the offended tone, he only smiled gently, reaching up to brush her bangs from her face, a soft caress that felt warm on her skin. "Naw, girl. I trust you. That's why I think you should tell them."
He was giving her his choice then, right then and there. Wanted her to make his decision for him. Poor Gunn. A lump of emotion settled in her throat as she looked at the warrior, looking at her so hopefully.
"I can't," she responded, voice aching. "I wish I could, Charles. But… all I can do is stand by you."
"But look at what -"
"I'll deal with it."
"I don't want you to. Too many people have to 'deal' with my mistakes." Suddenly overcome by the darkness in his eyes, Fred's palm gently caressed his lips.
Frozen, the cellphone ringing from his pocket jerked him out of his stillness and with a rough voice he picked it up, turning away red-faced from the little Physicist. Intently listening as she shifted away from him, he heard Rondell's voice. Half listening and half answering, he soon snapped the phone shut.
"Well?" Fred asked, breaking the silence that followed.
Charles took in a breath, turning back to meet her eyes. "It's tonight."
"Okay – OH WAIT." Fred smacked her head with her palm, closing her eyes. "I told Angel I'd watch Connor tonight -"
"Oh, too bad, guess you can't go -"
"Gunn, shut up." Casting him a glare, Fred reached for her phone, grabbing the cordless and dialing.
--
Thursday Afternoon – Cordelia's Apartment
"Sweetie, if there was something wrong, or particularly smelly about me, you'd tell me, right?"
Cordelia's eyebrows quirked inward, her mouth a deceptive smirk as she studied the green-skinned demon. "What?"
Lorne continued to study himself in the mirror, shaking his hips in an exaggerated fashion before sighing, adjusting his lime green tie. "For some reason I keep getting the vibe that people want to avoid me like the plague."
"Oh, please. You're insane!" Cordelia gave a short laugh, giving her attention back to Connor, as the chubby baby gave her a gummy smile.
"Honey, I may be a lot of things, but insane, is definitely not in the top ten," Lorne responded, rolling his eyes. He gave a small sigh, cocking his head and turning away from the mirror. "I just get the distinct impression that everyone at the hotel is going out of their way to avoid me."
"Ah… and that couldn't be because you read people without asking, making them abruptly uncomfortable and kinda naked – oh wait… just might be, hmm?" Cordelia said with a pointed look.
The Host's shoulders deflated as he came forward, settling down next to the Seer who was distractedly holding onto Connor's body. "It's not like I can help that, though I will say this: sexual tension? You can cut that bad boy with a knife. Forget a knife. A spoon. Just SPOON that sucker out."
"Really?" Cordelia, gratified she at least had an office gossip now that Lorne had a made a semi-permanent move into the Hyperion, sat up in interest. "Who?"
Lorne gave a sly grin, "You mean BESIDES you and Gloom and Doom?"
Fighting the hot blush, Cordelia answered with a snap. "Please. That's old news."
"Hmmm." The phone rang, and automatically, Lorne leaned over to pick it up. "Mistress Chase's."
The voice at the end was curiously silent. Lorne rolled his eyes, heaving an impatient sigh as the Seer gave him a curious look. "Hellooo?"
"Lorne?"
"Freddie! How's it hanging, baby doll?"
"Well, it's not – I don't - oh. Fine!" Lorne frowned at the stammering in an obviously agitated Fred's voice.
"What's up sweetie? You sound nervous."
"NOTHING! I mean - nothing," she continued, in a complete monotone. "Is Cordy there?"
"Right here." At Cordelia's questioning look, the Host shrugged.
Taking the phone, Cordelia answered flippantly. "What's up, Fred? No, he's right here, duh. Sure, I guess… why didn't you just ask him yourself? Hold on -" Cordelia nodded to Lorne. "Fred wants to know if you can watch Connor tonight, she and Gunn have a thing of sorts."
"A thing?"
"A date?" Cordelia asked into the phone, and then grimaced immediately when a high-pitched squeal from the receiver made her hold it away from her head. "Okay, okay, not a date! Geez. Can you do it, Lorne?"
"Well, despite the fact that having this child is severely ruining my social life, sure."
"I would, but I have a dinner date with some friends."
"You have friends?"
"Long story - bachelorette party RSVP, I got wrangled into a 'catch-up' dinner too," Cordelia responded, rolling her eyes before turning her attention back to Fred. "Fine, fine. Everything okay? No, no visions. What about Angel? Again? Freak. Yeah, I'll call him later. And Wesley - with FAITH? How is psycho chick anyway?"
This time even Lorne heard the agitated response. "Cordelia, I have to GO."
"Fine, geez. Have fun on the non-date. Bye."
Lorne slumped back down against the cushions. "You see? It's NOT my imagination. She could have asked me, but NOOOO – had to ask YOU to get to me and I'm a lovable person!"
Cordelia smirked.
--
The Present – The Hyperion Hotel
Wesley swallowed, and then immediately grimaced, getting up and reaching for a cloth, spitting the blood that leaked from his split lip onto the handkerchief. With a disgusted snivel, he ignored the looks of the other men watching and proceeded to sit back down. Reluctantly, he handed Gunn a moist towel to wipe at the scratch on his head, before answering the question that Lorne had put forth.
"I found out enough," he began carefully, "to make me suspicious." Shoulders sinking, he caught eyes with Charles. "I should have made the connection."
"What did you learn?" Angel asked, confusion and concern illuminating his dark eyes.
Wesley considered the best way to explain, and finally began with a slow, "enough." When Angel began to protest he added, "Faith was not released by Wolfram and Hart, as was my first suspicion. She was released based on her own good behavior. But she had had a regular visitor for a few months now - a new woman, said to have been familiar with her story, named Justine."
At the mention of the name, Gunn stiffened, an audible gasp coming from his lips. "My Justine?"
"I believe so." Wesley gave a shrug. "At the time, I wasn't aware of whom Justine was working for. My suspicions, again, were Wolfram and Hart but they have remained surprisingly out of the whole thing."
"Not really." Off their looks, Angel explained, "I've paid a visit to one of their partners."
"Oh. I'm guessing it wasn't exactly a tea party?" Lorne asked.
Angel's answering look was enough to make Lorne answer his own question with an averting of his eyes and a low whistle.
"Wesley," Angel began, turning his attention back to the Watcher. "You said that Faith -"
"I didn't know enough," Wesley said, "but my sources had tied her to Holtz. I had my suspicions - enough to be concerned - but because of my rather… complicated situation with Faith, I was hoping to discuss it with you. You weren't answering your cellphone."
"Figures," Gunn muttered, earning a glare from Angel.
"I decided to stop by Cordelia's, in hopes you would be there." Wesley gave a grim smile, reaching for a beer bottle located in a melting bucket of ice, courtesy of Lorne. "I had absolutely no idea who I would find instead."
--
Thursday Evening
When the truck parked and the ignition was cut off, there was no sound but Fred's erratic breathing. Charles cocked his head, studying her, making note that no matter how brave Fred was, she was still noticeably nervous. At his look, she offered an 'I'm okay' smile, but reached for his hand anyway.
Slipping a warm palm over hers, he noticed the trembling and grabbed hold tightly, pulling her over to his side of the truck and sliding an arm around her. The embrace was one she gave gladly, sliding palms under his jacket and over his shirt, head resting on his shoulder.
He pressed his cheek against her forehead, exhaled once, and tried one more time. "Fred. You don't have to be here."
"Let's go."
Grabbing her small backpack, she slipped from his arms and jerked at the door, pushing it out with such force that she almost fell out herself. Quickly Charles moved, sliding out of the truck and swinging the door closed, waiting as she crossed to his side and then moved with him toward the crowd of young warriors. Their talking stopped as soon as they laid eyes on the newcomers and knowing what had caught their attention, Charles squared his shoulders and affixed a scowl to his face, reaching out and taking Fred's hand in his, tangling their fingers.
Rondell didn't appear to be at all happy with his companion as he came forward, meeting them halfway. "Yo. What is she doing here?"
He never was one to mince words and Charles, suddenly tired of games of race, class, loyalty, and species, only brought Fred closer to his side Looking down on Rondell, his eyes glinted with challenge. "She's with me."
Three words. In the past that was usually all that was needed. Charles Gunn spoke and that commanded respect.
But a lot had changed and Rondell only shook his head angrily. "We said YOU, Gunn. Not her. We don't need her."
"I need her." The words were said quietly and with conviction. Feeling Fred's wondering glance burning on his face, Charles continued; at the moment he wasn't sure if he was lying or telling the truth. "You want me, you take her, cause there ain't no way in hell I'm doin' anything or leavin' anyone without her."
"So it's like that, huh?"
"Yeah. It's like that."
Rondell shook his head, almost in disgust. "Charles Gunn - went and got all whipped because of some little whi-"
The words were never allowed to be finished as a female voice shouted out a warning and suddenly the previously cleared warehouse and alley was filled with vampires and fleeing teenagers.
"Charles!" Gunn immediately pushed Fred behind him, ducking when he was met with a punch and launching back one of his own, sending the vampire back.
A flurry of red hair and black leather pushed past him, before a stake buried into the vampire's chest, and he exploded. Charles, breathing hard, shared a long look with the assailant until Justine scoffed, "Shouldn't you be taking care of your girlfriend?"
Immediately Gunn remembered Fred, jerking his head back. "FRED!"
"Charles!" Fred was cornered now, a shovel in her hand, warding off two of the demons herself, who had deemed her easier prey.
Cursing, immediately Charles ran forward, only to be beaten by Rondell. The vampire was quicker than he thought and suddenly Gunn, distracted by another who had kicked into his gut, watched helplessly as Rondell was tripped, landing on his back, banging his head on the hard concrete.
"Rondell!"
The young man lay stunned and Charles kicked under the legs of the vampire who had him, pushing him towards Justine who made short work of him, before moving on. But before the vampire could finish what he had started, a long swipe and a swoosh ripped through the air and before a stunned group's eyes, the beheaded demon imploded.
Stunned, a panting Rondell met Fred's eyes, mouth dropping open on shock.
Holding on to her trusty shovel, Fred gave a shy shrug, pushing her glasses up her nose and remarking to Gunn, "Beheading still works, right?"
At her upturned face and flushed cheeks, Charles burst into a smile, coming forward to offer her a hug as Justine assisted Rondell up. Even post fight, the redhead still wore the scowl, her eyes affixed to Gunn and Gunn only.
"Damn. That girl got game," Rondell muttered and apparently the rest of the teenagers agreed when they offered Fred a set of applause and a couple of admiring whistles amidst the laughter that followed.
--
The Present – Kate Lockley's Apartment
"Damn. Little Fred got herself her stripes!" Faith looked genuinely impressed.
Fred, with a blush and a grin, offered her a shrug. "It wasn't all that much. I had been watchin' enough of those trainin' sessions to pick up SOMETHIN' and Gunn had showed me some quick moves before."
"Mmhmm." Cordelia looked more than a little knowing as she nodded her head. "Beat Wesley to the punch, did he?"
Fred looked slightly confused. "Beat Wesley to what punch?"
Kate and Faith both swiveled gazes onto Cordelia and the Seer, suddenly realizing she said something that perhaps shouldn't have been mentioned, coughed on her soda. "Uh… nothing."
Faith's dark eyes glittered dangerously. "You wouldn't be saying you think he still -"
"Hey! I said NOTHING. NOTHING, you get it?"
"What's nothing?" Kate asked. Her glance from Faith to Cordelia's reddening face to Fred's blank one answered her question. "Ohhh." Shifting uncomfortably, she edged away from Faith's hostile form. "I'm sure it's nothing," she agreed hastily.
Fred still appeared completely oblivious to the other girls attempts to ignore the impending conversation. "What's nothing?"
"Fred, why'd you give Wesley the nose beater?" Faith said, suddenly whipping her head to hers.
Fred blushed slightly, rubbing at her knuckles. "He pissed me off?"
The was a pause as the words processed through the Slayer's head and suddenly her face convulsed in what seemed like three emotions at once before she muttered an angry curse and immediately launched off her chair.
Cordelia, also offering a rather unlady-like swear and in a remarkable show of bravery - or an incredible act of stupidity - reached for her palm and latched on tightly. "You don't know the whole story, Faith."
"I don't need it."
"Fine, geez." Raising her arms in mock surrender, Cordelia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she blocked Faith's escape. "At least finish your story before you kick his ass, though. 'Cause I need it." Never taking her eyes off Faith's defiant face, she said firmly, "Kate? A little help here?"
Kate was slightly dazed. It took a few seconds for the scene to make sense but when it did, she sucked in a gulp of air and stumbled to her feet. There wasn't any way Faith was leaving NOW. Kate was way too engrossed in the story to have them cut out now because of a suspicious and jealous Slayer. "I'm with Cordy." Reflecting on that statement, she glanced at the Seer in wonder. "Wow. That's a first."
"Shut up, Kate."
"Umm… did I say something wrong?" Fred looked visibly nervous, hands on her lap contritely as she looked up at the three standing women with eyes of a lost child.
Faith was stone cold silent, her eyes flashing with a glint of anger, but her deep, audible sigh made everyone relax slightly as she turned to Fred and said in a softened tone, "No, Fred. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just a fucking emotional wreck because of that bastard, that's all."
"Oh." Fred pursed her lips, pulling her knees up under her body so she could sit on her haunches. "If it helps, I think we all are."
"Oh yeah. Helps tons," came the dry reply.
--
Thursday Evening – Cordelia's Apartment
She wore the strappy red heels that clicked on the wooden floor, shoes she knew for a fact Dennis hated. The ghost hated loud shoes and almost always turned the radio dial to some ungodly heavy metal station in defiance.
The first time she had worn the shoes, things had gotten slightly ugly and after the second incident, Cordelia had taken to slipping them on as soon as she walked out the door so as not to upset the ghost.
"Dennis! See? Not putting them on!" Carefully, Cordelia padded barefooted to the entrance, placing the shoes next to the doorway, pointing at them to make sure her invisible roommate could see. "No clicking noise at all!" With bated breath, she waited. The radio station stayed on easy listening and she breathed a discernable sigh of relief.
Walking back to the dresser, she chose a small set of beads - the perfect compliment to the red dress with the spaghetti straps that she had chosen for the night of dinner and drinks. Putting simple diamond earrings in each ear, Cordelia paused to view herself and allowed one smile in memory. This dressing up - it felt good. The dress and the make-up... her hair slicked and combed, not haphazardly tossed back in a messily put together ponytail, but carefully combed into an intricate bun, positioned low on her neck... Preparing to spend the night on the town with beautiful girlfriends, young and gorgeous, this was normal for her.
Normal and off at the same time.
The smile drifted off her lips as she studied herself, with the dark eyeliner and beautifully lined lipstick. Even now, dressed upscale, with painted toenails and wearing expensive cologne, there were signs that did not escape her; constant reminders that this night was a farce. The dress she wore was from Angel's 'I'm sorry I fired you' collection. The beads had been a present from the vampire as well. The perfume delicately applied to every hotspot on her body - a Christmas gift from Lorne. Even the clasp that held her hair together had been a gift from the boys, picked out by a surprisingly tasteful Fred. Facets of her life, bleeding into her fantasy, and the ultimate kicker of this all - she wasn't looking forward to this at all.
A night with girls she barely knew - had only known from acting classes - discussing superficial things like movies and guys' asses all had a time and a place, and Cordelia herself never minded such talk - for a short period of time at least. But she knew, even now, that her mind would drift and her thoughts would turn to Angel, to Connor, to her family.
She had seen less of them than usual in the past few days and that pained her more than she wanted to admit. Missing Angel's presence, missing Fred's smiles and ramblings, Wesley's British toneless meanderings, and Gunn's grins of utter confidence.
She should call them. Just call them and stop worrying.
"I'm sure it's all fine, Cordelia," she muttered, taking the fat brush and running it over her cheek bone. "He's fine. Stop being paranoid. Dennis, am I being paranoid?"
Her answer was the sudden change to Garbage on the radio.
Slamming down the brush, she gave the air in her room a glare. "Rhetorical question, nimrod!" Shaking her head she let out an exaggerated huff before finally just stalking to the phone and punching in numbers. It rang once, twice, three times, before a voice finally came on.
Her heart skipped in spite of herself and her tone was more than a little breathless as she began to speak. "Angel?"
There was a long silence, before the vampire answered. "Cordelia."
"My God, you actually picked up your cellphone? Stop the presses!"
"What do you want?"
The blunt tone was something she was unused to, and her smile faltered. "I was just… calling to check up."
"Everything's fine."
"Oh." He was dead silent, and Cordelia found herself scrambling, attempting to search for a topic. "Well… how's Connor."
"He's fine."
Again with the silence. She began to ramble. "Well, I was just wondering because, I was going to go out tonight, but if you needed help or just wanted to hang out, then maybe -"
"We're fine, Cordelia. I'm actually busy tonight. Doing… things. Have fun. I'll see you later."
"Wait, Angel -" The phone clicked, indicating he had already hung up.
Cordelia blinked, stunned, and took a hard look at the phone, as if trying to understand exactly what the hell happened to her. "Did Angel just hang UP on me?"
Pounding at the door startled her out of her thoughts and Cordelia, still glaring at the phone, moved quickly, grabbing her purse and turning the knob.
She had opened it a foot before it slammed shut again, making her jump back.
"Dennis?! Stop that!"
Again she attempted to open the door, again Dennis forcefully shut it again.
"DENNIS!"
"Cordelia?! What the hell is up with your door?"
The voice on the other side sounded suspiciously familiar and, closing her eyes, Cordelia prayed that it would not be who she thought it would be, because that would INDEED be the PERFECT end to a PERFECT day.
"Faith?" she asked trepidly, pressing against the peephole to find that it was, in fact, the Slayer. "Of course it is," she muttered.
"You wanna let me in?"
"My ghost doesn't like you," Cordelia responded flatly. "Not that I'm questioning his lack of trust mind you."
"Well, tell him to get over it. It's important."
"Right. Sure. You know, I'm sure Dennis will REALLY get OVER it considering the LAST time you came in here you gave me a HELL OF A BLACK EYE AND KIDNAPPED WESLEY!"
"Damn." The muttered curse at the other side of the door made Cordelia smile and she crossed her arms smugly. "Look. I promise I won't hurt you. Allright? Fucking happy now?"
"Yeah. That makes me trust you."
"Cordelia, what the fuck do you want me to do? Do a little dance? I need to talk - I need help. That's what you do, right? Help people?"
Cordelia inwardly winced. "Why the hell does everyone always throw that back at our faces? We don't help EVERYONE."
"Angel said you'd understand." The tone was different and it caught Cordelia's attention, making her look toward the door in silent contemplation. The voice was broken, sad… different. Just… different.
It was making her severely question her judgment.
"Damn me for growing a conscience," she muttered. Louder, she said, "Fine. But you have to convince Dennis."
"Tell that damned ghost that if he doesn't let me in I'm going to bring a Catholic priest here and I'll exorcise his ass -"
"You wouldn't DARE!"
"TRY ME."
The door was flung open to reveal a smiling Faith, crossed arms, glaring at the ceiling. "There. Nice to know we have an understanding."
The Seer gave the Slayer an exasperated glare. "Way to get on my ghost's good side, Faith."
But Faith didn't seem inclined to begin a petty argument, or any type of discussion at all. Her dark eyes only glanced over Cordelia's hostile form and with a frown and a slump of her shoulders, she stepped into the apartment, pushing past her. "People are going to think crap no matter what the fuck I do," she muttered. "Doesn't matter anymore."
"Where the hell did you learn to give guilt trips? My mother?"
Cordelia closed the door, closing her eyes as she shook her head, defeated. Faith paused, in the middle of sitting on the couch, offering Cordelia a hard glare.
"I don't want your sympathy, Chase. I just needed a place to crash. I didn't want to be at that hotel right now."
Cordelia blinked, suddenly confused as she crossed her apartment floor, looking down at Faith. "Huh? Why?"
"Angel's gone into brood mode, that crazy taco lady has taken off with that cute black guy - and… I don't trust anyone that reads auras."
"Wait, back up. Angel's gone into brood mode?"
"Worse than when he was with Buffy." Faith made a face. "Has anyone told him how BORING that is? Shit."
There was something missing about Faith's tone. There was no edge. A harshness had lifted, now replaced by conflict and sadness. Cordelia, unsure how she picked it up, instead found her mind moving to Angel, fixing the incident on the phone to Faith's judgment call.
Something was very wrong here. "He hasn't brooded in forever."
Faith didn't answer. Her eyes were instead on her hands, carefully picking at her fingernails, avoiding Cordelia's gaze.
The more Cordelia thought about it, the more worried she got, and the more worried she got, the more convinced she was that Angel was hiding something. Angel was hiding something from HER.
"Not again," she sighed, running tired hands over her face, across her eyes, ending at her temples.
Another knock came and this time Dennis opened it immediately.
Wesley stepped in, hands dug deep into his pockets. "Cordelia, I was hoping Angel was here. He seems to have gone missing and…" Stopping immediately, Wesley's eyes caught Faith's startled form.
The pair shared an intense, uncomfortable gaze, one that Cordelia never noticed; her mind too absorbed in replaying the last two days events in her rapidly whirling mind. "Wesley, have you seen much of Angel?"
Thankfully jerked away from Faith's form, Wesley attempted to give her his attention, and found his mind instead rebelling, turning back to wondering why Faith was HERE of all places. "Pardon?" he managed.
"Angel. Have you seen him?"
"Not really, no. I was hoping he'd be here with - what is Faith doing here?"
"Free country, English," Faith tossed back, standing up slowly.
"Right, whatever… He's hiding something." Shaking her head in sudden anger, Cordelia grabbed her coat, sliding it on. "I'm going to the hotel."
She was leaving?!
"WHAT?!" Wesley openly gaped, looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights as he helplessly watched Cordelia head to the door, grabbing her heels along the way.
"I'm borrowing your bike, Wesley. Hitch a ride with Faith."
"With FAITH!?"
"Cordelia, I don't have a car - COR!" Panicked, Faith tried to run after her but her feet seemed to have frozen to the floor and stuck to Cordelia's increasingly sticky floor, Faith and Wesley both watched in helpless horror as Cordelia shut the door, locking it behind her.
When Dennis cut off the radio, there was only the uncomfortable silence that loomed between them both.
End chapter