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.
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CHAPTER ELEVEN –
--
Friday Night – Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood
Digging into her pockets for the worn dollar bills, Faith flashed the mini-mart owner a distracted smile.
"Four dollars," he responded, eyes narrowing as they lingered on the tattoo etched onto her skin.
The obvious judgement brought an instinctive reaction in Faith. Her body stiffened, her eyes glinted at his darkened look of suspicion. The dark curls, the tattoo, the black leather. She knew what he saw when he looked at her. More than anything, she wanted to remove that look of disgust, succinct arousal, and replace it with fear.
Her teeth gritted as she glanced at the entrance. Sighing, she pulled out the bills and threw them on the counter, gathering her things in the plastic bag and wrinkling the handle as she moved toward the exit. Fuck him. She had more important things to worry about. Outside, the cold bit into her skin. It was unusually windy in Los Angeles – the city of the sun, and bikinis. Folding the bag into her arms, she walked quickly to where Cordelia was sitting on the scratched bus bench, her head buried in between her palms.
"Here," Faith said, kneeling in front of her, opening the bag and with trembling fingers, reaching for the aspirin and the bottle of water. Cordelia barely acknowledged her, but obediently took the bottle and the pills, making an odd grunt as she slurped at the water, knocking it back like a shot of tequila. In her haste to get her the aspirin, some of the pills spilt to the floor. Faith pondered picking them up, instead choosing to sink down onto the bench next to her, hands tangled together, nervous as hell and unsure what to do about it.
Sitting here, watching the cars drive past, ignoring the occasional wolf whistles, Faith's view of the world tilted slightly. The girl next to her was in obvious pain, and more than anything, she wanted to make it stop. She wanted all the pain to just go away – and fuck, why? It would never go away. None of it would ever go away. The pain that was always in her heart, the rage and the hatred that sometimes consumed her, used to eat away at her. She would crave more agony, more hurt, in order to fill the void left by its presence. Now, all it gave her was fear. One second of peace, removed and splintered by a lifetime of fear. On the streets of Hollywood, there was a stench of vomit and nausea, coupled with the hopeful dreams of the starlets in the photos pinned by the Kodak on the corner. Confusing, this lost city of souls.
Across the street was a strip club, gaudy and fake, and damn proud of it. Men opened the door, moving inside, and Faith considered going in, just to see exactly what they went in for. Hell, at least it was honest. Men bought what they wanted, a fantasy that came with the ever bitter truth, that that was all they were buying. Cheap fondlings.
The groan that came from the girl by her side distracted her. Faith jerked her head back, hand immediately reaching for Cordelia's shoulder. "What? Can you move?"
The words came out harsher than she wanted them to be, but Faith couldn't take them back, and she didn't bother to, instead hoping she did her best to help Cordelia get through this thing. It looked fucking painful.
Faith had arrived with the Seer only minutes before the pair Cordy had seen in the vision were about to be sacrificed, and while she had disposed of the demon idiots in seconds, she had absolutely no idea what to do with the sobbing teenagers that were left behind. Staring at them, it had almost crippled her, to see these kids crying on the dirt floor, clutching each other, complete emotional wrecks.
So this was what 'C meant about the killing being only part of it. If Cordelia hadn't suddenly regained her ability to walk and come in at the last second to help those kids outta there, Faith would probably still have been standing there with the blank look of panic on her face. Taking the kids home had left the Slayer and Seer here, with Cordelia barely saying a word, and for once in her life, Faith was really and truly scared.
"It's better," Cordelia said softly, voice barely above a whisper. "I… it always gets better when it's over."
"How the hell can you live like this?" Faith demanded, eyes narrowing. "Does Angel know what this does to you?"
Cordelia ignored her, body shuddering as she closed her eyes, caught her breath and reached for Faith's arm. "I just need some food… I'll be fine."
"You're not going to be -"
"FAITH!" Cordelia's eyes snapped open, hazel glinted brilliantly at her, and something in her expression made the Slayer snap her mouth shut, swallow down hard. "Everyone here makes sacrifices. We ALL make mistakes. The difference between us, and everyone else, is that we accept them, and don't bitch about the consequences."
Faith felt her heart jolt at the words, and she couldn't help but ask, "Fuck, Cordy. If you're working for good, WHY does there have to be consequences?" She never would have expected to be waiting so breathlessly for the May Queen's answer. It was a testament to a lot of hard years that they now stood here, instead of Sunnydale, holding onto each other and staring into each other's eyes as if they were some sorta -
"Faith, you nimrod." Cordelia's smile was tense. "It's always harder when you care. It's easier when you're the bitch. When you look into eyes that you hurt, and you don't care. You know that. I know that."
There was more inferred in those words than Faith wanted to face. Her hair whipped around her shoulders as she looked down the street, spotted a restaurant down the block. "What about that place?" she asked hastily.
"Bossa Nova," Cordelia read. "Sounds like a plan." Sliding a hand under Cordelia's arm, Faith helped her, feeling Cordelia regain her strength somewhat, much to her relief. Why the hell, if Angel had such a big 'family', did she feel so alone? Shit, she had been here almost a week, and she still had barely seen the little mousy chick – okay the tall mousy chick, and the other guy. And hell, she had seen MORE than her fair share of Wesley-
"Wesley?"
The word torn out of her thoughts startled her. Faith paused, at first glaring at Cordelia suspiciously, ready to ask if those visions came with some sort of mind reading, too.
"What?" she blurted out the word, almost dropping Cordelia in her haste to seem impersonal about the whole damn thing. Cordelia's face instead was focused on the window, and jerking her head to see what Cordy found so fascinating, Faith's own eyes caught a very damning scene.
Flinching back, she was almost disgusted at the way her heart wrenched within her, the way her eyes nearly burst into tears, and how she had to open her eyes again just to battle her disbelief. Wesley with a haircut. Her Wesley, who had held her and kissed her and made love to her, with his beautiful blue eyes, was looking at some red headed bitch with those eyes that had looked at her, and he was FUCKING HOLDING HER HAND. Not hitting her, not damn near spitting at her, but looking at her with this tender expression that –
She gasped for breath, panting in her emotion.
"Faith?" Cordelia's tone indicated her worry, as she laid a hesitant hand on her arm. Immediately, Faith shied away from the touch, eyes glued to the scene, until the ex-Watcher turned, and his blue eyes caught hers. Suddenly, it all seemed too real, and it was too much to stop. Her hands balled into fists, her vision blurred with stinging tears. Stepping backwards, she shook her head furiously, desperate to get away from there.
But he was moving, going for the door, and she wasn't fast enough to pull the still weary Cordelia away, before he tumbled out of the door in his stupid tuxedo, rambling in that stupid accent of his.
"Faith -"
"Wesley?" Cordelia was quiet, glancing from the still seated Virginia, to the frozen Faith, to Wes's panicked expression.
"Cordelia, let's go."
And more with the unconscious begging, Cordelia noted. Faith's grip was tight, to the point of being painful. Cordelia winced, but tried to push back her curiosity, when she saw the tears beginning to form in Faith's eyes.
"Umm…. Guys…" she began.
"Faith, it's not what you think -" Wesley said breathlessly, moving into the night air, coming forward.
Faith just kept stepping back. "What does it matter what I think, English?" she managed to bite out. "What I do never fucking matters, does it?"
"Faith, if you'd just LISTEN for once -"
"LISTEN!?" she bit, eyes widening in anger. "LISTEN!? FUCK, Wesley, why the hell should I listen to YOU!"
"Faith…" Cordelia once again tried to break into the conversation, but Wesley beat her to it, his blue eyes darkening in some sort of anger.
"Faith, stop this. You jump to conclusions, you ask me to trust you, but I see nothing -"
"Yeah, you see nothing, Wes. That's the fucking problem."
"Wesley, what's going on?" Virginia peeked outside, smile frozen when her eyes fell on Faith and Cordelia. "Oh… hi Cordelia."
"Virginia," Cordelia returned breathlessly.
"Virginia, get back inside, this doesn't concern you," Wesley ordered. His gaze stayed on Faith.
The Slayer had begun to visibly shake, but with a look to the other woman, something changed. Cordelia saw it, the stiffening of her body, the glint in her eye, and it made her heart sink.
"God, Faith – No -"
"What, Wesley?" Faith asked, voice dripping with sultry sarcasm, crossing her arms and shifting her hips, smiling with lips that slid into a sneer. "Haven't told your girlfriend about the fabulous fuck we had?"
"Fabulous - what?"
"WHAT?" Cordelia also burst, mouth opening in shock.
"Faith," Wesley began, voice dropping into a soft whisper. "Please, don't do this now."
"Hell of a night, wasn't it, Wes?"
His patience snapped, and he strode forward, grabbing the smaller girl by the shoulders, shaking her head. "Stop it, Faith. Stop it, now. And listen to me."
"Damn you, Wesley," She whispered. "You should have let me go fast. I could have handled hard and fast. Not slow. Not with those hands and those eyes. You made me want to believe you. I hate you."
"Faith -" Her fist flew, and a looming pain blinded Wesley, as he stumbled back with the force of the blow, crashing into the pavement.
"Wesley!" Virginia's palm on his face, eyes stinging, a hell of a headache.
"FAITH! Let's GO!" With one eye open, in his haze of pain, Wesley could only watch as Faith was pulled away by a bewildered Cordelia, the Seer doing all she could to get Faith away before she went for the other eye. "Virginia, get him home."
"Sure, Cor."
"Jeez, Wesley… what the hell did you do?" was Cordelia's parting statement, as the brunettes left him on the sidewalk, Virginia's hands smoothing over his face.
--
The Present: The Hyperion Hotel
This time, there was no wisecrack, no statement to be said by any of the men that were seated on the stools.
Wesley was quiet, the reason his black eye and tuxedo revealed, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh.
"Bloody hell," he whispered. "All I managed to do -"
"Wesley, what the hell were you thinking?" Angel snapped, eyes dark and dangerous, as he glared at the British man. "You KNEW she was lost, you SAW her when she was here before, you KNEW what-"
"Yes, I KNEW, Angel," Wesley tossed back, accent edged in anger as he stood, standing up to the vampire in a way he had begun to do only recently, fists curled into fists. "Just like you KNEW Cordelia's pain when it came to the visions, and you've done nothing. Instead, I come here and find you in bed with Faith-"
"Woah!" Gunn's head jerked up. Hands waving in the air, he repeated Wesley's statement. "You went to bed with Faith?"
Angel kept his eyes on Wesley's, as he gritted out, "It wasn't like that, Wesley. Get that through your thick skull. We fell asleep, on the same bed. I was trying to TALK to her, like YOU suggested. And maybe you might want to get out of my face before I make those eyes twins."
"BOYS!" Lorne's tone was sharp, angry, and completely without patience. "ENOUGH." Standing, he narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring. "Can't you see what's going on here? Is it not sinking into your thick skulls? Cordelia and Faith chose to keep a vision to themselves because they couldn't reach you, because they couldn't TALK TO YOU. WHAT THE HELL kinda group is this? People almost DIED last night." Lorne paused, breathing heavily, jerking away from the counter and reaching for another bottle of tequila. "You boys better learn something from this, because before this night's over, I can guarantee you won't be seeing anything the same again." He turned to Charles, his eyes low and narrowed. "Go ahead, Charles. Tell them how close to death you and Fred really were."
When both Angel and Wesley turned their dark gazes on him, Gunn just felt tired, not wanting to tell the story, not wanting to feel the anger behind it. He just closed his e yes, licked his lips, and raised his head.
"At least I made my stand, man."
--
Late Friday Night – Nameless Ghetto
Fred's palm was clutched in his as they walked through the alley, the darkness permeating through his soul. The group of teenagers gathered at the end of the alley, some sitting, others standing, all packing heat. At their center, was a red-headed vixen in black leather, standing next to a shorter man, with beady dark eyes and a stocky build.
Fred's sucked in his breath, moving closer to his side. "That's him," she whispered. "That's Holtz."
"Yeah, I kinda figured that," he answered, pulling Fred slightly behind him as they continued to walk, keeping her close. The man known as Holtz didn't look like much at first, but Charles Gunn never underestimated a soul. It never crossed his mind to question why Angel and Darla ran from him for decades. In his eyes were power, and in his face, was hate.
And Charles Gunn knew all about that. He took a breath to try and still his beating heart, nodding to Rondell. His old buddy's face was curiously closed, the rifle in his hands cocked and ready to fire.
"So, where's the nest?" he asked, keeping his eyes on Holtz.
Justine's dark green eyes shimmered. She turned away, her face unreadable.
"There are no vampires," Holtz answered, stepping forward, hands folded in front of him. "Charles Gunn, it is a pleasure. You have quite a reputation among these children."
Charles's tense posture was answer enough to his hostility. He kept his mouth shut. Holtz continued to stare, with deep, mesmerizing eyes, shifting his gaze from him to Fred's form, as she stood as proudly as she could against him, despite the very real fear in her face.
"That one," he said after a minute, "Is deceitfully waif. Thick-skinned, is she not?"
"Just a little bit," Charles answered dryly. "She's with me."
"So I see." Holtz finally allowed a small smile. "Now, where YOUR loyalties lie, THAT is the true purpose of tonight. It is no secret you serve the vampire Angelus -"
"I don't SERVE the vampire," Gunn snapped. "I serve the mission."
Holtz merely gave him a glance, disbelieving and annoyed. "I see," he said, after a minute. Turning his attention onto Fred, he cocked his head. "You child, come here."
Charles' gaze locked with Fred, and she trembled slightly, a questioning look on her face.
He tried to give her a small smile of reassurance, but he couldn't.
"You have my word, I will not harm you," Holtz said. "At this time."
"Fred, don't," Charles said, keeping his grip tight.
"It's okay… it's fine." Fred's heart was beating rapidly, but she had faced Holtz before, and she could face him now. Relinquishing her hold on Gunn's hand, she stepped forward bravely, leaving Gunn behind to stand two feet away from the shorter man.
"And you, child, whom do you serve? The mission or the vampire?"
She stared at him, at first not quite comprehending.
"The mission or the vampire, little one," Holtz said again. "Which is it?"
"The vampire, what do you think?" Justine tossed, looking almost bored as she plopped down at the box.
"Speak the truth, child, or I will know." Holtz again look at her, his dark gaze penetrating and deep. "Whom do you serve? Is the mission more important than the vampire?"
Fred understood the test, but she never had any doubt of her answer, or the consequences. "By definition, you're description of the mission isn't entirely accurate. The mission, could be different things. In Angel's definition, it means working for the Powers, your own mission is the extermination of Angelus, which is what I really think you mean and not the fight for the good, or even all the vampires, and if you mean, would I turn my back on Angel, to fight alongside you? Well then, of course it's Angel."
Even Holtz looked slightly dazed at her quick answer, but he recovered quickly, smiling, nodding. "I would have expected nothing less, child. In your nature is a purity I find refreshing. It will be a shame, when the time comes for me to destroy you. Stand aside."
"HEY, now -" Gunn stepped forward, but Rondell's gun leveled up, pointing directly at his chest. Charles stopped, steps faltering as he looked from Holtz, who pushed Fred gently into the crowd of his old comrades, to Justine, who was watching with a passive expression, to Rondell. To his credit, at least his friend looked truly conflicted about holding a semi automatic weapon to him AGAIN.
"Old habits die hard, huh Rondell?"
"Sorry, man," he responded, just as evenly. "We gotta know. If you 'ain't no liar, we got nothing to worry about, do we?"
"Whom do you serve, Charles?" Holtz broke in tersely.
"What?"
"Whom do you serve?" Holtz asked. "It's a simple question. You work with the vampire, and you claim the mission. And yet, there are facets in Angelus' souled career that clearly indicate a strong bias AGAINST the mission."
"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Charles asked.
"Well then, let's see." Holtz reached for his pad of papers, flipping through them. "Allowing lawyers to die. Releasing a known prisoner from a demonic hell dimension to save his Seer, responsible then for the death of more than a few innocent people. For starters." He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Hardly complimentary."
"Charles, don't listen to him," Fred pleaded, pushing through the crowd of boys.
"Oh, can someone shut her the FUCK up?" Justine snapped, turning her glare at Fred.
"Hold her," Holtz said breezily, the crossbow held loosely in his hands.
Immediately, Rondell reached forward, grabbing Fred by the shoulders, pushing her back. Charles immediately started forward. "DON'T you TOUCH HER, MAN!"
The short man moved too quickly, the crossbow slashing across his forehead, whipping him back, bringing him to his knees. The pain slanted through his head, and Charles had to take a minute to breathe.
"Holtz!" The vampire killer held up his hand, indicating to the startled Justine to hold her tongue. Hands folding into fists, she obeyed, stepping back into the crowd.
"My quarrel is with the vampire," the short man said, eyes blazing with self confidence, voice clipped with authority. "The vampire shall lose all, and you know him well enough to know what that entails."
Gunn's pulse underneath his jaw beat for a second, as he continued to listen. What Holtz lacked in stature, he made up for in power. Even with the funny looking trenchcoat, the crazy ass hair, he demanded respect. "You ain't evil, man," Gunn said, straightening, his breath coming out in one long huff. "I know that. You know that. You destroy Angel, you destroy the world."
Holtz gaze was dark, wild. "Perhaps," he acknowledged. "Perhaps I destroy the world, perhaps I damn the world to eternity of hell on earth. Tell me?" reaching up, he grabbed Gunn's chin in a powerful hold, pulling down, ignoring Gunn's grunt of pain. "Tell me now," he said in a low whisper. "What the difference would be from anything this world has to offer now?"
"You a sick, sick man."
The chin got pushed back, and Gunn tasted blood as he crashed against the pavement, coughing.
Before he had a chance to rise, a thick, rough boot was placed on his throat, pressing down against his voicebox.
"A man of shifting loyalties is a man who is unworthy of even the smallest honor," Holtz said methodically. "And there is nobility in your eyes, Mr. Gunn. So I will ask you again, and you will tell me the truth. Do you serve the vampire, or the mission?" Charles struggled against the boot, hands clamped against it, pushing vainly in an attempt to breathe. "If it is the mission you seek, then you have found your place. If it is the vampire-"
"Neither," he managed to eek out.
"Oh?" Holtz remained unfailingly polite, as the boot pressed down harder. He let out an agonized grunt.
"CHARLES!" Fred cried from her position, struggling against Rondell's hold. Holtz turned at the sound, looking surprised at the emotion. "Listen," he told Gunn, "to her pleas. She serves the vampire, she will die in time. Would you die with her?"
"You kill her, and I'll take your skanky ass down, yoda," Gunn bit, managing to gasp in some air when the boot moved an inch. "You kill her and there's no mission-"
"Exactly." Holtz smiled, looking down at him. "My point exactly." Reaching for a crossbow, he held it directly to Charles' throat, the blade pricking into his skin. "Once again, I ask you, whom do you serve? The vampire, or the mission? I serve neither. Now, you choose."
Rondell shifted behind him, eyes darting to his other compatriots.
Gunn glared at him, and finally managed, "I serve my family. And that includes the vampire. So FUCK off, Holtz."
"I see… It is a choice I respect, young Charles," Holtz smiled down at him. "Unfortunately, this is where our association comes to an end, for we are at an impossible impasse. Goodbye, Mr. Gunn."
The click of a gun made Charles stop struggling, looking wide-eyed at Rondell, who was now holding the pistol to Holtz's head.
"You pull that trigger, you'll meet your maker so fast, you won't have a chance to say your prayers," Rondell bit, eyes flashing. "There ain't no mission with you, Holtz, then we ain't playing your sick little game."
Holtz was quiet, his dangerous gaze now reserved for Rondell, arrow still dug into Charles' skin. "Rondell, you are a disappointment. In two seconds you can be dead."
"Maybe," Rondell acknowledged, eyebrows knitting together in his concentration, "but can you really run from all these dudes?" Charles found that the entire gang had their guns leveled on Holtz, mutual anger in their faces. "You wanna kill your vampire, you do that," Rondell said, "But you don't kill people. Never people. Get the hell outta here, Holtz."
Justine pushed her way to the front, but found the guns leveled on her now, her dark green eyes unreadable as she stood by Holtz, eyes flickering down to meet Gunn's.
Holtz gave a short, grim smile. "You're merely buying them time, Rondell. And you become friends with them, you become an enemy of mine."
'Yeah, life's a bitch that way, ain't it," Rondell bit back.
Holtz looked down at Charles, and finally stepped away. As soon as the pressure was released from his esophagus, Charles began to suck in the air, balled into a fetus like position as Fred ran to him, cradling him in her arms, looking up at Holtz with eyes of fear.
He gave her a grim smile. "We shall see each other again, little one. Give Angelus my regards." To Justine, he ordered, "Let's go."
But the girl wavered, caught between the guns, and between Charles' face, lost in hesitation.
It took her a full five seconds to follow after Holtz, seconds Charles noted, as he gathered the trembling Fred to him, ignoring the blood streaming from his forehead, eyes locking with Rondell's.
"Thanks."
Rondell tipped his chin in a short nod, moving back, giving a shrug. "Whatever, dog. There ain't no mission."
"Charles." Fred's voice was broken, thick with tears as she cupped his face in her hands, wiping at the blood. "You're bleeding…"
He gave her a soft smile, lifting a hand to run through her hair. "I'm alright, Fred. For the first time in a while, baby, I'm alright."
Without a word, she slipped into his embrace, and Charles held on tightly, eyes shutting against the horrors that he knew would come, now that they had toed the line with Angel.
--
The Present – Kate Lockley's Apartment
The words had barely left Fred's mouth, before Cordelia had cussed a very loud word, and launched up from the couch, pushing past the startled Faith, into the bedroom, slamming the door.
The three women in the room were left in stunned silence.
In the bedroom, Cordelia paced angrily, hot tears spilling from her face, her hand slamming into the bed, breaking into a pillow, flinging it across the room.
FUCK. FUCK. SHIT. SHIT.
"Cordelia?" Fred's hesitant face peeked out from the crack between the door and the doorway, and Cordelia froze, stopping.
"You almost DIED. You could have DIED, Fred."
Fred blinked, looking almost ashamed as she stepped into the room, settling onto the bed meekly.
"I'm sorry, Cordelia."
"You shouldn't been alone, Fred," Cordelia finally burst. "You should have been able to call us, and instead we were all stuck in our own personal little melodramas-"
"Cordelia," Fred broke in softly. "We… I had Gunn there. We weren't alone."
"Yes, you were. The two of you could have died, and we didn't know about it. You should have told us, Fred!" Hazel eyes flashed brilliantly before they faded away, eyes closing in exasperation. "But how could you? I was screening calls, Wesley was locked away in his personal guilt trip, Angel was stalking me and Faith was the only one actually working." She gave a tired sigh. "You shouldn't have been alone. I mean… we save souls. If we can't even keep our family together, if you and Gunn, in serious trouble can't even COME to us…" Cordelia in a sigh, registering Fred's moistening orbs. "Then what the hell are we doing?"
Fred was quiet for a moment, hands tangled together in her lap, posture straight and tall as she watched the Seer collapse into a corner of the room, the tears slipping from her eyes.
"I… Existing," she finally whispered.
Cordelia paused, looking up at her. "What?"
"We're… just trying to live, Cordelia, as well as we know how." Fred gave a small smile. "Sure, Gunn and me almost died, but… we didn't."
"Fred…" Cordelia's face was soft, broken. "I should have known. I should have figured it out-"
"But you didn't." Fred gave a glance to the blonde and the brunette standing in the doorway, and moved back to Cordelia, settling next to her on the floor. "And that's okay."
"It's not okay-"
"Cordelia, you had your own problems. With Angel-"
"ANGEL - " Cordelia spit the word out, almost edged in disgust. "It's always ANGEL. We almost die because of ANGEL. What about YOU? What about GUNN?"
"What about you?" Faith interjected quietly from the doorway, arms crossed, her face terse and angry. "What the hell about you, Cordelia? The visions are killing you-"
"No, don't make this about me," Cordelia said. "FOR ONCE, let's not make this about me."
"It's not about you, Cordelia," Kate agreed, husky voice almost tender as she moved into the room behind Faith, sliding down next to the bed, gathering her legs under her. "It's about all of you. And it… seems to me, you all just had some shit happen at the same time."
"We should have-"
"We didn't, okay?" Fred offered a sad smile, "We didn't. And that's it. It's not your fault. Loving Angel's no piece of cake." She gave a sad shrug. "I know."
Faith gave her a confused look, but Cordelia understood, eyes locked with the young physicist, memories of finding the lost girl in the elevator, sobbing her heart out, coming readily to mind.
"That's not the point," Cordelia said, finally. "Nimrod, the point is that all I cared about was… that…"
"Love is everything," Fred agreed.
"Okay, Christian, don't burst into song," Faith muttered, looking at her fingernails.
"Shut up, Faith," Kate said, nudging the Slayer. "Fred's actually making sense for once."
"Cordelia…" Fred's voice was soft, hesitant. "Love is painful, and it kills you inside. But then you're reborn. No one can really SAVE you – but love… when you have it, then it doesn't matter- because no matter HOW hopeless a situation is… you can hold onto that. And fight for it. No one knows HOW to love someone. What they figure out, is that eventually, with that love, comes acceptance. And that's all you need."
"It doesn't feel like that, Fred."
"No," she agreed. "Because you've never let yourself go. It's painful, isn't it?" Fred asked, eyes glistening with unshed tears, "To hang onto a precipice, afraid to fall, for fear you'll be swallowed, for fear you'll die. But you can't go back, Cordelia. And for once, you can believe, that I know what I'm talking about. Don't worry about us. For ONCE… do it to save yourself."
Cordelia was silent, and then she gave a short sob of annoyance, wiping at her tears hastily. "SHIT, Fred. You did it again. You made it about me."
Fred smiled, pulling a strand of hair away from Cordelia's wet cheek.
"No," she said. "It was about all of us."
--
Late Night Friday – The Hyperion Hotel
The Hotel was silent, dark and intimidating.
Faith strode up the stairs, eyes stinging with tears she refused to shed, body tense with emotion that had yet to reach an outlet, fists clenched with a need to finish what she started. The Seer behind her was slower, hand on the banister, eyes drifting over the hotel.
Cordelia's hazel eyes spotted the nursery, and a curious lump in her throat suddenly made it difficult to breathe. She moved slowly, and ignoring Faith's huff of exasperation, she gently opened the door. What little light there was illuminated the bed to reveal a vampire dressed in a black sweater and black pants, sprawled over it, a resting baby sleeping in the crook of his arm.
"Lorne must have stayed out again," Cordelia whispered. Leaning against the doorway, she watched the scene. Angel, sleeping like the dead, reaching outward with one hand, space left on the bed for one more body.
He had kept it open.
Closing her eyes against the well of pain that came with the realization, Cordelia pushed Faith back, shutting the door. "Come on," she said hoarsely. "Let's go to your room." Faith, for once, had no stupid remark, no bullshit to say. "Have you seen Fred?" Cordelia asked, shawl wrapped loosely around her shoulders.
"Crazy taco chick? Nuh-uh." Cordelia pursed her lips, considered going to Fred's room to check up on her, and remembered the last time she had accidentally woken up the Pylean from her deep sleep. She still had a bruise from the damned booby trap hanging from the door.
Faith was still, dragging Cordelia from her thoughts when she asked in a hard voice, "You don't think I really hurt him, did you?" Her brown eyes were dark, the question was phrased angrily, almost as if Faith was trying to convince herself she didn't care.
"I think he'll survive," Cordelia said carefully. "And trust me, he's going to get the chewing out of his LIFE tomorrow." Moving into Faith's room, she felt suddenly exhausted, the events of the last few hours harried and hectic, and terribly sad. It left her full of questions, full of needs, and the sight of Angel and Connor had only brought back the realization that whatever it was she thought she was doing, wasn't working. Her eyes closed, her figured trembled, and she took in a deep, shuddering sigh.
"Headache acting up again?" Faith asked, hanging up the leather jacket on the closet door knob.
Cordelia gave her a glance, considered asking about Wesley, knowing she'd get nothing but hostility in response. "Something like that."
Faith was quiet, nodding, pulling off her boots. "Seeing him like that really shook you up, didn't it?"
"Wesley?"
"Angel."
"Oh."
Faith came forward, bare feet padding against the wood as she stood at the edge of the bed.
"I miss Connor," Cordelia admitted, drawing her legs up onto the bed, leaning back on her pillows. "I just… I miss him. I miss Angel's eyes, when he watched me holding him… I miss Fred's stupid little songs – she put the variables to pi to a song, you know? It takes her hours to sing it…" Faith was silent, sinking down on the mattress next to her. "God… WHY did we have to screw this up?" Cordelia asked, slamming her hand down at the bed, suddenly angry. "LOOK at it - it's like summer camp…"
"So… you mad at Angel, because he tried to push you out, or you mad at yourself because you couldn't let him?" Soft eyes stared at her, and for once, Faith realized, she was truly seeing Cordelia. "I guess… I wanted to be different," Cordelia said finally. "I thought I was different. That this was different… but it's Sunnydale all over again, isn't it?" Faith shook her head almost fiercely, but the act died when her thoughts overwhelmed her. Sunnydale all over again. The same confliction, the same raw heartbreak… the same need for acceptance.
The same blue eyes -
"It's never different," Cordelia continued, wiping at her eyes fiercely. "Because I can fucking never be different. I'm Cordelia – and it doesn't matter if I'm dying from visions for him, it doesn't matter how much I love his son, I'm still only Cordelia. What the hell did I think I could do, when not even Buffy could save him?"
Dark despair permeated the room, and Faith couldn't take it. It was a weight bearing down upon her chest, and her own broken heart refused to let it sink in. It was too much for Cordelia to admit defeat, for Faith herself to acknowledge that even the self professed bitch was beaten by something that had broken them all. It wasn't fair. The tears welled in her eyes, almost painfully, and in an attempt to ward them off, she vaulted off the bed, opening her suitcase and pulling out clothes.
"Faith -"
"I don't believe it," she said fiercely. "I don't. And you can't make me believe that there's nothing out there for us, 'C. You can't make me believe it."
"Faith -"
"I believe that, and what the hell am I fighting for?" she snapped, sucking her breath as she flung a shirt to the other side of the room. "What the hell is the payoff?"
"Faith -" Cordelia strode forward, gripping her shoulders, about to recriminate when something in the suitcase caught her eye. Reaching in, she plucked out a mechanical piece, eyeing it suspiciously. "What in the – OH EWW!" Dropping it on the bed, she jumped back.
The silent shock, coupled with the look of absolute horror on Cordelia's face, was enough to tear a giggle out of Faith's throat. When their eyes met, the laughter erupted, until the emotion that had been welling up in both women was released in long, loud peals of laugher, ending with both women collapsing on the bed, taking in deep breaths.
"I can't believe you have one of those!" Cordelia huffed.
"Hey, you can have it, " Faith said, picking it up and tossing it in her lap.
"I don't want it!"
"You might need it!"
"Faith!"
--
end chapter