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 previous chapters.
--
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thursday Evening – The Hyperion Hotel
Her mind was flooded with emotions and over-active senses. The turmoil in her heart was suddenly pushed away as Angel pulled her to him, her chest meeting a hard body, cold hands shifting the fabric of her dress, pulling it tight.
One second ticked by, in which she was able to place her palms firmly against the unyielding chest, and stare up into the dark, wild eyes. But no words were able to come, because in the second after that, her mouth was suddenly plundered. Shock invaded her, quickly followed by a moan that was ripped out of her throat. His lips continued to feast hungrily on hers, tilting her head; hard, unyielding pressure that urged her to follow through, to lose herself in the sensation of her vampire FINALLY kissing her, FINALLY admitting to something.
In a moment of weakness, she fell, eyes closing automatically, lips parting in a breathy sigh to feel the triumph of his invasion, a cold, sleek muscle that snaked in and jolted her with arousal. Hard hands crushed her to him. There were issues with breathing. She continued to kiss him, hard and furious, turmoil sliding through her until she was certain she would burst.
Then her mind caught up with her. She wasn't sure how it had managed to worm its way into the mush that her body had become, but thoughts whispered in her ear, and all the passion that she was experienced was suddenly shifted into pure, furious anger. With a burst of strength that seemed foreign, Cordelia broke the hold, pushing him away, eyes glinting with furious emotion.
"How DARE you?" she whispered brokenly.
Angel, still taken with the heat of the moment, growled once, before the soul caught up with the demon, and he blinked, unsure of what he had done. "What?"
His hands reached for her again, but she stepped back, trembling now, so full of blind rage, all she saw was white sparks. "How DARE YOU!? You can't HAVE it both ways, Angel. You can't push me away and then kiss me the next minute. That's not how this works. That's not how you FIX things."
"Cordelia-"
She didn't want to hear the desperation in his voice. She didn't want to see the tears, or the turmoil. She didn't want to feel anything but the anger. The wounds in her heart seemed irreparable now, and so painful. The anger was familiar, it was easier to handle than the pain. She clung to it.
"No. I'm not doing this. You made your decision, you stick to it."
"Cordelia, don't walk-"
She shrugged him off, wiping fiercely at her eyes, turning her back on him. "Don't talk to me, call me, see me, until I'm done."
"Done with what?" She shuddered, her hand on the doorknob, eyes closed for one tense moment.
"I don't know. You?"
"Cordelia -"
His grip was strong. The cool slide of his fingers over her palm was almost impossible to ignore, but at this time, it nearly ripped her heart out. She pulled away again. "No, Angel! I'm helping you! We're fixing it!"
"I don't WANT to fix it like this! Not anymore -"
"Well, tough." Her gaze was cool, icy, reminiscent of a girl from Sunnydale who came to Los Angeles for riches and fame, and found a vampire instead. He faltered under it, grip loosening until she was able to slide her hand away. "Because I do, now."
The lump in her throat was painful, but it didn't compare to the ache in her heart. The disappointment seeped through her. She wondered if he could see it, the sadness in her eyes that told him he was no longer her hero. He was so close to being nothing, now. No longer proud and stoic, he slunk back, into the shadows. Cordelia moved as quickly as she could, out of sight, down the stairs, opening the doors of the Hyperion and shutting them behind her.
Outside, a black car was waiting. Heads were peeking out, and Cordelia wiped back the tears, a wide smile suddenly sliding over her face, running toward them in her heels.
"Sorry for making you wait."
Vicki, her old friend from acting class, now sporting a beautiful rock of ample size on her third finger, gave her a curious look. "You okay?"
Cordelia sighed, thanking the other girls with a glance when they moved to make room for her. "Nothing. It's my old boss, current co-worker and big pain in the ass. He's… nothing."
Vickie cocked an eyebrow. "Didn't you two have a thing? I remember Veronica saying something about that shoot you once did-"
"Oh, my God! That's right! In the leather jacket, right?" Patricia piped up from behind.
"No, we're nothing." Cordelia swallowed, eyes drifting toward the third window on the fourth floor, where she knew a being dressed in black would be watching. "Trust me. It's nothing. He's just acting… himself."
"Whatever, girl. Let's go party!" Cheers filled the tiny sedan, and
it pulled away from the curb, leaving the Hyperion behind.
--
The Present – Kate Lockley's Apartment
"Wait. I'm confused."
"About what?" Cordelia huffed slightly, crossing her legs as she glared at Kate, shrugging her shoulders. "Angel was acting completely in character. Big 'ole skitzo."
"Nooo. I mean, I thought you left in Wesley's bike."
"Oh. Well the girls pulled up as soon as I got outside. I asked them to make a quick stop."
"Oh." Fred giggled slightly. When everyone gave her a look, she gave a small smile. "Just… a funny thought. That Faith and Wesley had an escape the whole time and neither of them knew. Just… all kind of sense of irony."
"Oh, yeah. ABOUT THAT. Was there SEX ON MY COUCH?!"
Faith just buried her head in her hands, not saying a word. Very slowly, a hand emerged, and a middle finger was very clearly shoved in Cordelia's direction.
--
Late Night Thursday – Cordelia Chase's Apartment
The smell of sex lingered. It filled her senses, a ragged sigh overtaking her as her short nails clenched into his skin, hips arching underneath him. Fingers slipped on sweat soaked skin; Wesley's lips tasted the salty tang, her low, intense moans sliding into his ear, making him shudder. His tongue bathed her shoulder, sweeping over the soft, delicate bone of her collar.
"Wesley." Her voice was broken in need, word whispered intensely. Fingers tightened around his back, sliding down, before a palm smoothed up his chest, circling a nipple, flicking it gently. The action made him groan, instinctively turn his head so that he caught her mouth with his, hot and wet and wild in his kisses. His hand smoothed over her neck, sliding down until he cupped one soft breast in his palm. Gentle on a soft bauble, squeezing a little harder, the change in pace forced her to break off the kiss in a ragged gasp. Her head fell back, chest heaving in hard, lust induced pants. Wesley swallowed hard, trying to contain his need, unable to tear his eyes away from her form; the delicate shudders, the closed eyes. Swollen lips that were parted in unconscious sighs brushed over his skin.
Her strength would leave bruises, but Wesley didn't care, bracing himself as well as he could on either side of her, wanting so desperately not to hurt her. There was no pain now, only pure, blissful agony in her beautiful features, delicate neck long and aching to be kissed. The shallow length of the couch provided little room for movement, making his muscles ache in an attempt to keep his balance. Long legs moved on either side of him, pinning him close to the wet heat of her.
"Faith," he whispered gently, eyes never moving from her face, from the parted sigh of her lips. Dark eyes opened, locked on his, and it set a reaction through him, when her hands smoothed down shuddering muscles. He caught his breath as her fingers continued their journey, reaching between their rocking bodies, touching a part of him that made him shut his eyes, tense completely against her.
"Come on, Wesley," she whispered softly, arching up against him to sweep her lips against the rough column of his neck, grating her teeth against the pulse point of his jaw. "Come on."
"Oh, God, Faith -" Panting, Faith buried her mouth into the crook of his shoulder, sucking lightly, twisting her body, and wrapping her hand around the hardness, and shifting up, tightening her grip.
He lost control. A shout was muffled when his lips buried into hers, and she clutched him tighter, arching, rocking, maneuvering as well as she could on the soft, small couch. His hands grabbed her waist, pulling her up, and suddenly he was swallowed up by warm, searing heat. A squeak emerged from the back of his throat, in conjunction with her own ragged groan.
There was silence, complete and utter stillness as she adjusted to him, eyes wide open now, staring into the dark blue of his orbs. God, she was drowning. There was a sense of wonderment in his expression, as if he couldn't believe it, and for a moment, disbelief flooded her too.
Was this really - oh, GOD -
She closed her eyes, biting her upper lip in an attempt to keep from being too vocal, too out of control. She couldn't lose control here. Her hips arched against him, prompted into moving, the invasion filling her, coming in deeper, and harder. His lips fastened to her jaw, sweat providing a lubricant for their naked bodies as they slid and slipped against each other, finding the rhythm that they both used to come closer. She grunted now, lost, utterly lost in the emotion, the pain and pleasure suddenly overwhelming her. Her hands moved up to cup his face as everything began to come together in one, blissful second.
"Wesley," she whispered, trying her damndest to hold on, even as he pulled back, thrust harder, pushing her body further into the cushion. "Look at me, Wes." His blue eyes opened, dark, brilliant and beautiful, locking on hers as his hips continued to move, push against her, driving himself deeper. She shuddered, head falling back. "Come with me, Wes. Come on-"
His lips crushed against hers, a groan buried into her mouth, as the kiss became rough, wild and tangled as he pushed harder, burying her back. Her eyes snapped shut when everything coiled inside of her released, like a python suddenly snapping forward in a strike. She clung to him, desperate for him to save her, sweat soaked skin sticking to his as she tightened around him, and everything fell to pieces. He trembled against her, murmuring words she couldn't quite make out, but they filled her with euphoria, her body suddenly spent and tired.
Wesley's weight wasn't crushing, as he collapsed on top of her, face buried in her neck. The smooth body lay still, and gratified, she kept him there, fingers tangling into the short brown hair, pressing her lips against his smooth shoulder, unable to keep from touching him again.
Silent moments crept by, before Wesley tried to move, but there was barely room. It took work to shift on the small cushion, until they were lying side by side, tired, sated… spent. Goosebumps formed on her skin, and she felt him shift against her. Turning to watch him curiously, she saw as his hand felt around on the floor, before her shoulders were encased in a brown sweater, soft cotton now covering her naked body. She smiled at him silently, and he smiled back.
She fought the sleep, if only to see those beautifully blue orbs staring into hers. Her eyes continued to close despite that, her fingers drifting lazily over little white etches on his skin, pressed her lips to them distractedly, before sleep overtook her.
--
The Present – Kate Lockley's Apartment
"You had SEX on my COUCH?!" Cordelia's voice swiveled into an unmistakable screech, making Fred wince and Faith want to cover her ears. "SEX on my Couch. You and Wesley had SEX on MY COUCH?!"
"Uh… Cordelia…" Kate was hesitant as she lifted a hand to try to appease the pissed-off girl. "I don't really think that's the point-"
"They had SEX on my couch?! I sleep on that couch! I eat on that couch! I do not have SEX on that couch!"
"Well maybe you should start, 'C," Faith said, irritation giving way to a smirk as she gave Cordelia a tired glance. "It's a very comfy couch."
"Oh, AUGH."
"You're lucky," Faith said absently. "I wanted to do it on the bed. Wesley is the one who kept it on the couch."
Cordelia was beyond words at this point, her horrified face illustrating perfectly the fact she was in the middle of a very disturbing visual.
"Cordelia," Fred said, exasperated. "We'll talk about the couch issue later."
"Yeah, so shut up." Faith snapped. "I'll pay for the damn couch cleaning, okay?"
Cordelia slumped back, closing her eyes. "I'm never going to look at my couch the same way again."
Kate blinked, and then decided to ignore Cordelia, turning back to Faith. The Slayer now had a carefully closed expression on her face. "You were saying?"
"Damn," Cordelia said, obviously disturbed. "Didja have to get SO PORNO about it? Now every time I look at that couch I'm going to be running scenes of 'FAITH DOES WESLEY!' in my head."
Faith gave her a dubious smirk. "C, if you're fantasizing about me having sex, then that's something you have to deal with on your own. I'm no therapist."
--
Late Night Thursday – Cordelia Chase's Apartment
Sleep did not come for Wesley. With his arms full of a tired, naked Faith, save for the brown sweater wrapped loosely over her shoulders, he watched. A small girl, deceptively young, with her eyes closed, breath fluttering against his skin. Her fingernails, cut short, were painted a dark red, and her fingers curled, shifting absently against his chest as her long hair, silken strands, slid across his skin. She was everywhere, her weight settled into his hip, her lips, swollen with his kisses. She was asleep and peaceful, in his embrace.
She was real. With this realization, came the reality of what it was they had done. He had gone too fast. There was never any intention of letting things progress this far. Sex with Faith, less than a week after he professed, fooled himself, into thinking he hated her, in some psychological replacement for his own inadequacies… it was foolish. Stupid.
She moved slightly in her sleep, and he wondered on that… Faith was a relatively light sleeper, words were mumbled in her mouth, she continued to shift, and her face was calm. The myriad that had been her expressions earlier had been testament to Faith's inner turmoil, and something twisted inside of Wesley's stomach. He couldn't help but wonder as to the reason for this sudden peace.
Was it him? Did Faith SEE something in… Did she feel safe in his arms?
He swallowed, suddenly conflicted, the urge to panic sliding through him. Too much, too soon – he had taken too much, given what he had no right to give – a promise in a brush of skin, a touch of lips-
There was too much hurt in his touch to do a tarnished soul, a delicate heart's like Faith's, any good. Good Lord. If she believed that he could do this to her, if she believed he could save her… Then the day he fell from grace, perhaps she would lose everything. There was nothing to offer her, all he had was friendship. That was what he was prepared to give. Intimacy, complete and unadulterated, was something he had never considered.
Now here she was, and despite his well thought out reservations, his hands still moved over her skin. His eyes continued to worship her. Inner confliction gave way to a surge of possession that moved inside of him as his fingers curled around the brown sweater, wrapping it tighter around her shoulders. She mumbled into his skin, and in distraction, he brushed his lips against her forehead.
The contact startled her. She jolted awake, pushing off of him and falling to the floor, clutching the sweater to her in surprise. He sat up, heart solid in his throat as he realized, the morning after had begun.
"Faith."
She stared at him, eyes roving down to her naked body, and immediately pulled the sweater around her, stock still. "Wes…"
She was waiting, naked fear in her eyes as she watched him. It occurred to him that she was waiting for something from him, a clue as to how to respond to what they had shared. He swallowed, startled at how the beautiful brown orbs seemed so… afraid?
Oh, Lord, it had started. "Faith." His hand was gentle as he reached for her, pure concern in his face as he leaned forward, heedless of his own nakedness. "Are you all right? Did I startle you?"
She was quiet for a moment, watching him warily, but her mouth creased into a relieved smile, when his palm cupped her cheek gently. "I don't sleep well. Sorry. I didn't pound your head or anything, did I?"
"No, I'm perfectly fine."
They fell silent, unsure of how to proceed. In an effort to do anything at all, his eyes flickered to the clock, and suddenly he remembered their location. "Good Lord, Cordelia!"
"What about - Oh. SHIT." Faith stood, suddenly going through the clothing littered around the room, locating her underwear, holding it up to realize it was torn. "Damn." Throwing it aside, she reached for her leather pants, sticking her leg into one hole.
Wesley watched her as he pulled on his boxers, a pained ache in his stomach. She looked so impossibly young. Fragile. And bloody hell -
"Faith."
She paused, hair wild and unruly, framing her face in long waves.
Faith felt his gaze on her, heard the stricken, heavy tone. Suddenly everything that was missing, everything that she was waiting for with dread, came. Fear, reality - the damned Watcher had come back to his senses.
"What?" she asked, breathlessly, bracing herself, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable with his sweater hanging lewdly off of one shoulder.
"I… tonight… we shouldn't…"
Oh, GOD, he was taking it back. The fucking bastard male was taking it back. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. FUCK. It wasn't supposed to hurt this much. Eyes opened up, and they were much brighter, as she squared her shoulders and zipped up her pants, giving him a grin.
"Don't worry about it, Wes. Happens all the time. I'm on the pill."
He paused, startled, mouth parting in surprise. "Pardon?"
"What? You don't think I've done this before?" She pulled off his sweater, resisting the urge to inhale the scent before tossing it into his lap. He looked down on it, almost as if he was afraid to reach for it. She shuddered against the vision, turning her back on him, pulling on her tank top roughly.
"Faith -"
"Fuck you, Wes." The words came out before she had a chance to stop them, and she cursed, trying to control her trembling. "You had to go and ruin it. FIRST damned night I -"
"Faith, you misunderstand -"
"Oh, I never misunderstand anything, Wesley."
His hands were on her shoulders now. In a burst of violence she threw him off, pushing him back. "No, Wes. You got what you wanted -"
"I didn't WANT this."
She swallowed, the words making her soul burn. Looking into his eyes, Faith responded with a weary, "No. I guess you didn't."
She tried to turn away, but his grip was firm. Wesley's eyes flashed as he cupped her chin, pulling it up fiercely. "No, listen to me. Faith, I - "
The cellphone in hanging in his belt broke his words, distracted her. He didn't say a word, ignoring the rings, trying to gauge her reaction. The ringing continued.
"Get the damn phone," she whispered.
"Bugger the phone," he said tersely.
But the ringing continued. Eyes locked on his, she grabbed the phone from his waist, flipping it open and speaking into it. "Wesley's phone."
Wesley was silent, throat parched, heart aching. Her gaze fell from his, shoulders suddenly deflating. The reaction was unexpected. Wesley could only watch curiously and then with a sinking heart, when her eyes flashed and she tightened her jawbone.
"Hold on." With a careless shrug, she held out the phone to him. "Virginia. Says she's your girlfriend."
He blinked, staring down at the phone, looking back at her. After some silence, he took the phone, tried to beseech her silently to stay, but she used the moment he lifted the receiver to his ear to back out, turning and running for the door.
"FAITH!"
But she was gone.
"Wesley?" He cursed, putting the phone back to his ear.
"Virginia, now is not a good time-"
"Wesley, I'm in trouble."
His steps faltered, and he was frozen, sighing, eyes locked on the door. "What is it?"
--
The Present – The Hyperion Hotel
"So let me get this straight." Charles blinked once, raising his head from his crossed arms to narrow his eyes at Wesley. "You slept with the chick, made her think that you never wanted to in the first place, DIDN'T tell her that Virginia's your EX- girlfriend, and LET her walk out? No wonder she beat your ass."
"You know, I'm thinking of adding another black eye to the ensemble, Wesley," Angel said thickly, eyes glinting with anger. "You know, maybe make it a little more even."
Wesley snorted, anger clouding his words. "Don't you bloody dare tell me about Faith. After I found you two -"
"You want to explain something, Steakboy, then maybe you can explain -"
"HEY!" Charles stood, rising to his full height while Lorne, now tired of their numerous little outbursts, only waved a manicured hand lazily in their direction. "Shut the hell up, both of you. As far I can tell, you both got some SERIOUS 'splaining to do as far as your completely lack of a heart here -"
"And what the hell about YOU, Charles?" Wesley snapped, pounding his fists into the counter. "I'm curious. How DID you react to Fred in YOUR morning after?"
Charles was silent, but his shoulders slumped, and his eyes closed. "Like a dude who didn't know what the hell he was doing."
--
Friday Morning – Nameless House
The burst of light that suddenly appeared behind his closed eyelids made him wince. With a sigh and a yawn, Charles Gunn awoke slowly, moving his hands in an effort to stretch, when he was blocked by a warm, slim, shoulder.
Charles froze, eyes jolting open. Shifting slightly, he looked down, discovered a head of brown curls resting on his chest. Opening his eyes even wider, he took in a shuddering breath. His gaze roved over the head with the cheek pressed against his left nipple, and found a very bare back.
Okay, naked lady. Oh, shit. He blinked, and his eyes moved to the dresser. Thrown half hazardly on top of the mahogany, was a pair of glasses that were VERY familiar.
Oh, please don't be Fred, please, please, please.
Carefully, he reached forward, pulling the hair away from the face it was hiding, and dropping it just as quickly. Oh shit. It was Fred. Naked Fred. On top of him. Naked Fred and this was a bed, and OH MY GOD-
His startled gasp of panic caused her to stir above him, NOT a good thing, no matter how 'good' it felt. He closed his eyes tight against his very male reaction.
Oh, shit, oh, shit.
She mumbled something, lips moving over his chest, before she fully woke up. Fred immediately froze.
"Charles?" she asked, in a tone that seemed hesitant, unsure and scared. Brown eyes locked with his, and he offered a shaky wave.
"Hi."
"Oh, my!" She shot up, her hand covering her mouth, leaving everything else… kinda clear. He shuffled up, trying desperately not to look, before losing his balance and flailing, falling off the bed. "Oh, Gunn! Are you okay?" Shifting over the side of the bed, she peered down at him, concern etched on her face.
"I … um…" He blinked, and suddenly his gaze was no longer on her face. Fred looked down to see what he was staring at, and suddenly realized her topless state.
"CHARLES!"
"SORRY!" She scampered back, but the twin sized bed ran out of space. A muffled shriek, and she was in a heap on the other side.
"Ooomph!"
"FRED!" Grabbing a sheet, Charles stood, ignoring the headache to come to her aid, grabbing a sheet and tossing it over her body. "Here. Oh, god, I'm sorry."
"We didn't- did we?"
"Uhh…" he looked down, and found to his immense relief, he was still
wearing jeans. "No. I'm… I think -" He grimaced, suddenly uncomfortable.
"I think I have to change."
She stared at him, suddenly getting the sentence, and with the situation
finally sinking in, gave a short giggle. "Sorry. I just… Oh My GOD, Charles."
Gunn sank down on the edge of the bed, glimpses of last night coming back to him. "Oh, man. Oh, man. Angel and Wesley are gonna kill me."
"What?" She was at the moment trying to find her bra, but she paused, watching him curiously.
Shirtless and wearing very uncomfortable jeans, he began to pace around the small bedroom. "I took advantage."
Confused, Fred plopped down at the edge of the bed. "What?"
"I took advantage. They'll kill me 'cause you were drunk and I was kinda-"
Fred blinked, shaking her head slightly, a low laugh of disbelief coming from her. "Uh… Charles?"
"They're gonna KICK MY ASS-"
"You don't think I knew what I was doing?"
"Fred, would you have EVER kissed me in your right mind? Done what you did if you hadn't?"
"I almost have on more than one occasion," she replied hotly. He blinked, startled, mouth parted in surprise. Under his intense gaze, she blushed, looking away in embarrassment. "I shared too much, didn't I?"
"You have?"
She looked down at her hands, realized she was letting her sheet drop, and held it up against her again. "I… you wouldn't… I mean - would you…" She paused, too self conscious now to do anything but keep herself covered, as she remembered the last night. She had acted like a slut, that's what happened. Oh, God if her mother ever even HEARD –
Her eyes closed raggedly, the headache coming on slowly. Gunn's lips, and Gunn's hands, and Gunn's mouth in different places - it had all been very good…
But she had- with Gunn – oh, GOD what must he think?
A small piece of cloth and wire was placed in her hands, followed by a shirt. Eyes opening, she found his face staring up at her as he kneeled before her, shirt she distinctly remembered pulling off, hanging loosely now from his shoulders.
"I never would have kissed you, Fred," he said simply, "Because, I thought there was no way in hell, you would have kissed me back."
Fighting the hot warmth that crept over her cheeks, Fred smiled, looking down at the bra, underwear, and various other pieces of clothes that Gunn had collected.
"Oh, my… I really am naked, aren't I?"
"Uh… yeah. I'll try not to look."
"Charles!" Slapping his arm lightly, a warm giddy sensation overtook her when he grinned sheepishly, dutifully turning away so she could dress herself.
When she was suitably covered, she coughed lightly. He turned, averting his eyes and looking tense. The moment was gone, reality now having to be faced. "Come on."
Reaching for her hand, he pulled her out of the room, taking a look down either side of the hallway.
"Charles-"
"Let's get out of here."
"Yo! Gunn!" Frozen, Charles swallowed down a groan at the familiar voice behind them. "Damn, kids! Don't you have your own place to screw around?"
Fred clung to his hand, holding on tight as they both turned to face Rondell. "Yeah… sorry, man. We kinda got carried away, there."
Rondell grinned. "It's cool! Kinda like old times, right?"
Old times? Fred shot Gunn a scathing look, and he grinned sheepishly, avoiding her gaze. "Right, well… see ya!"
"Don't forget about tomorrow, dog!"
"Yeah, sure!"
Fred allowed herself to be led, curious eyes on Charles as they stepped into the morning air, shuffling quickly to the truck. Without a word, closing the door and climbed in beside her, blowing out his breath with a ragged sigh. The earlier, small window of security was now broken. That was clear, because Charles Gunn said not a word as they drove home.
Fred kept her hands in her lap, and in an effort not to keep shifting, kept her gaze straight ahead, her, mind running incredibly fast. The repercussions of what she had done were not beyond her. She knew what had happened, that she had instigated it, and it was also clear that it was the last thing she should have done, considering Charles' shaky loyalty within Angel Investigations. But she trusted him. Odd, but she did. She knew somehow, she was still safe. But if she had ruined this, ruined his confidences, especially in this crucial moment…
"Gunn…"
"Yeah."
"What's tomorrow night?"
His jaw ticked slightly, a sure sign he didn't want to tell her.
"Charles," she pressed, her chest tightening at his obvious confliction.
He was quiet, but finally, he answered. "Meeting Holtz."
"Oh." Fred glanced at him, hurt in her voice. "You weren't going to tell me?"
"Fred, I…" he swallowed, shrugging his shoulders. "What if something goes wrong? You know? What if something goes wrong and Holtz-"
"Charles, what do I have to do to prove myself to you?" she finally burst, her tone troubled, angry. "I do everything I do, and it's still not enough to you. Will it – what will I – nevermind," she mumbled, pushing her glasses up her nose. She didn't want to admit that her eyes were burning with unshed tears, that she felt completely stupid, and idiotic for doing what she did. This was Gunn. She should have known better.
The truck pulled to a stop, and with a glance, she realized they were at the hotel. Refusing to look at him, she fumbled with the lock. A large hand on hers stopped her. The contact of his skin on hers made her tingle, forcing her to take in a haggard breath.
Carefully, Gunn pulled her chin back to face him, and gently, softly, he kissed her. Her lips moved against his slowly, melting into a lazy caress that sent a breathy sigh through her. When they pulled apart, his eyes were shining, but full of serious conviction. "You listen to me, Fred," he said gently. "You don't got to prove yourself to anyone. You hear me? No one."
She swallowed, giving him a long glance. "Are you going to tell Angel?"
He froze, moving back. "I don't think so."
"I think you should."
"I thought we already had this conversation."
"I thought you listened."
"I thought I told you to get off my back about it!"
She narrowed her eyes at the snap, and anger ripped through her. No longer in the mood to argue with the stubborn man, she pushed open the truck door and slid out. "Do what you want, Charles. You stopped listening to me a long time ago."
She shut the car door, and watched it drive off, a sinking feeling in her heart.
--
end chapter