Disclaimer: The characters and situation stemmed from the genius of Joss
Whedon . . . but the words and events are mine.
Distribution: The Scribes, of course, can have it. It's going up on my
site sooner or later, too. Anyone else, just ask.
Dedication: To Melissa Rae, who inspires me.
Notes: I remember way back when Eternity first came out, someone issued a
challenge for a story based on this innuendo-filled scene. Well, I finally
got around to reading the transcripts, and I decided to take a shot at
writing the incident that "might have been." I didn't want to go overboard,
so here's what came out. Innuendo enough? Yes? No? Drop me a line and
tell me what you think. (fudgy_sundae@hotmail.com)
Innuendo
It was night. Around him, the room was pitch black – or close to it. Angel
lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling in contemplation. He thought about
a lot of things during times like these – times when he could simply lie
quietly, dormant, and not have to worry about the troubles of the world
outside his room outside him. These times were few and far apart, so he
when they did come, he could appreciate what ironic beauty there was in the
moments – the vampire with a soul who was working for redemption lying
peacefully in bed, not moving a muscle, waiting for someone to save him from
his woes, and not the other way around. Figuratively speaking? Not quite.
He flexed his arm experimentally and winced a little as the chains that were
bound around him tightly cut into his skin.
The door to his room opened with a crack, and he smiled imperceptibly as he
recognized the hazy silhouette standing in the threshold. "Hey."
"Hey."
The figure by the door went all the way in and closed it behind her. She
did not turn on the lights, for whatever reason of hers, but Angel had seen
her outlined by the brief display of light – and anyway, hers was a face
imprinted in his memory. It was, of course, his good friend Cordelia. One
of the two good friends of his who shackled him to the bed in the first
place . . . Huh.
"Are you gonna untie me now?"
It was hard to tell, but then again, his eyes were by then used to the
gloomy darkness – helped a little by his exceptional night-vision – so he
could see her smile even from across the room.
"That all depends on you, Mr. Happy. How are you feeling?"
"Not too happy at the moment, but I'm dealing. After all, it's not the
first time I've been chained up to my own bed before."
Her mouth twisted wryly at his statement. "Ha, ha. You know the other time
doesn't count. It was for the safety of all mankind, in case you were gonna
cut loose and go on a killing spree . . . kind of like this time, actually."
She approached his bed and looked down at him, trying to suppress a laugh.
He looked up at her beseechingly – it was all he could do under the
circumstances, really. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But I'm over it. Drug-induced
happiness has never really been my thing, and I'll never let it happen
again."
She tilted her head slightly to one side and smiled. "Mmm hmm . . . not even if
another beautiful failing actress spikes your
drink with . . . whatever it is beautiful failing actresses spike drinks
with to get stoic and broody vampires to turn her."
"Not even then."
"Uh huh." She stuck her tongue out at him and changed the subject. "I
brought you a drink," she said, holding up a baggie full of blood. "Can you
manage?"
His nostrils flared at the scent. "I'll manage. You'll have to help me . .
. maybe by untying me?"
"Not a chance."
She sat down on his bed gently, avoiding the massive links running across
over and around him. He lifted his head to the packet she held carefully by
his mouth. He glanced at her, but she was purposely staring into the
distance. He vamped out and gulped down the blood thirstily. When he was
done, she removed the baggie and placed it on his nightstand.
"Let me go now?" he pleaded.
She turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, Angel. I kind of
like seeing you all tied up and helpless like this." She smiled wickedly.
"It gives me a sense of power over my boss."
"How bout if I give you that raise?"
She considered the offer, then shook her head. "Nah. I can get you to do
that without resorting to bondage. I've got to take advantage of this
situation." She winked at him and ran her fingers over his chest teasingly.
"Cordy!"
"Well you *are* kind of yummy for someone who's older than my Great-Aunt Maude,
Angel."
He laughed. "Thank you."
She nodded in acquiescence. "Can't blame a girl for looking."
She stared down at him musingly for a moment, and he let her, taking the
time to stare right back at the . . . uh . . . pleasing countenance . . . of
his irritatingly likeable secretary. She laughed suddenly. "I know I'm
gorgeous, Angel. You don't have to say it." She tossed back her dark hair
and smiled down at him prettily. "No, actually, do. I like to hear it. It
boosts my ego, and it seems to have taken a beating earlier today . . ." She
cleared her throat significantly.
He sighed at the reference to what Angelus had cruelly said earlier.
"You're gorgeous, Cordy."
"Thank you."
"Can't blame a guy for looking."
"No," she said thoughtfully. "You can't."
She leaned over him then and pressed a soft, sweet kiss onto his forehead
before standing up from the bed. "Come join us outside, when you feel like
it, Angel," she said, avoiding his startled gaze. "Wesley wants to take me
on in Scrabble and I'm going to need some rescuing."
"Very funny, Cordelia," he called after her. The door swung shut and he was
alone in the darkness again.
He lifted his head and stared at the closed door, wondering what had just
happened. Then he dropped his head back onto the pillow and let out a quiet
groan. He stared up at the ceiling again. Looks like it was back to
contemplating.
It was going to be a long night and he was already getting fidgety . . .
His fingers brushed something on the bed. He picked it up curiously and it
let out a rattle.
Two minutes later he was outside with the others, playing with Cordy against
Wesley in a winner-take-all Scrabble match. They won.
END
Whedon . . . but the words and events are mine.
Distribution: The Scribes, of course, can have it. It's going up on my
site sooner or later, too. Anyone else, just ask.
Dedication: To Melissa Rae, who inspires me.
Notes: I remember way back when Eternity first came out, someone issued a
challenge for a story based on this innuendo-filled scene. Well, I finally
got around to reading the transcripts, and I decided to take a shot at
writing the incident that "might have been." I didn't want to go overboard,
so here's what came out. Innuendo enough? Yes? No? Drop me a line and
tell me what you think. (fudgy_sundae@hotmail.com)
Innuendo
It was night. Around him, the room was pitch black – or close to it. Angel
lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling in contemplation. He thought about
a lot of things during times like these – times when he could simply lie
quietly, dormant, and not have to worry about the troubles of the world
outside his room outside him. These times were few and far apart, so he
when they did come, he could appreciate what ironic beauty there was in the
moments – the vampire with a soul who was working for redemption lying
peacefully in bed, not moving a muscle, waiting for someone to save him from
his woes, and not the other way around. Figuratively speaking? Not quite.
He flexed his arm experimentally and winced a little as the chains that were
bound around him tightly cut into his skin.
The door to his room opened with a crack, and he smiled imperceptibly as he
recognized the hazy silhouette standing in the threshold. "Hey."
"Hey."
The figure by the door went all the way in and closed it behind her. She
did not turn on the lights, for whatever reason of hers, but Angel had seen
her outlined by the brief display of light – and anyway, hers was a face
imprinted in his memory. It was, of course, his good friend Cordelia. One
of the two good friends of his who shackled him to the bed in the first
place . . . Huh.
"Are you gonna untie me now?"
It was hard to tell, but then again, his eyes were by then used to the
gloomy darkness – helped a little by his exceptional night-vision – so he
could see her smile even from across the room.
"That all depends on you, Mr. Happy. How are you feeling?"
"Not too happy at the moment, but I'm dealing. After all, it's not the
first time I've been chained up to my own bed before."
Her mouth twisted wryly at his statement. "Ha, ha. You know the other time
doesn't count. It was for the safety of all mankind, in case you were gonna
cut loose and go on a killing spree . . . kind of like this time, actually."
She approached his bed and looked down at him, trying to suppress a laugh.
He looked up at her beseechingly – it was all he could do under the
circumstances, really. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But I'm over it. Drug-induced
happiness has never really been my thing, and I'll never let it happen
again."
She tilted her head slightly to one side and smiled. "Mmm hmm . . . not even if
another beautiful failing actress spikes your
drink with . . . whatever it is beautiful failing actresses spike drinks
with to get stoic and broody vampires to turn her."
"Not even then."
"Uh huh." She stuck her tongue out at him and changed the subject. "I
brought you a drink," she said, holding up a baggie full of blood. "Can you
manage?"
His nostrils flared at the scent. "I'll manage. You'll have to help me . .
. maybe by untying me?"
"Not a chance."
She sat down on his bed gently, avoiding the massive links running across
over and around him. He lifted his head to the packet she held carefully by
his mouth. He glanced at her, but she was purposely staring into the
distance. He vamped out and gulped down the blood thirstily. When he was
done, she removed the baggie and placed it on his nightstand.
"Let me go now?" he pleaded.
She turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, Angel. I kind of
like seeing you all tied up and helpless like this." She smiled wickedly.
"It gives me a sense of power over my boss."
"How bout if I give you that raise?"
She considered the offer, then shook her head. "Nah. I can get you to do
that without resorting to bondage. I've got to take advantage of this
situation." She winked at him and ran her fingers over his chest teasingly.
"Cordy!"
"Well you *are* kind of yummy for someone who's older than my Great-Aunt Maude,
Angel."
He laughed. "Thank you."
She nodded in acquiescence. "Can't blame a girl for looking."
She stared down at him musingly for a moment, and he let her, taking the
time to stare right back at the . . . uh . . . pleasing countenance . . . of
his irritatingly likeable secretary. She laughed suddenly. "I know I'm
gorgeous, Angel. You don't have to say it." She tossed back her dark hair
and smiled down at him prettily. "No, actually, do. I like to hear it. It
boosts my ego, and it seems to have taken a beating earlier today . . ." She
cleared her throat significantly.
He sighed at the reference to what Angelus had cruelly said earlier.
"You're gorgeous, Cordy."
"Thank you."
"Can't blame a guy for looking."
"No," she said thoughtfully. "You can't."
She leaned over him then and pressed a soft, sweet kiss onto his forehead
before standing up from the bed. "Come join us outside, when you feel like
it, Angel," she said, avoiding his startled gaze. "Wesley wants to take me
on in Scrabble and I'm going to need some rescuing."
"Very funny, Cordelia," he called after her. The door swung shut and he was
alone in the darkness again.
He lifted his head and stared at the closed door, wondering what had just
happened. Then he dropped his head back onto the pillow and let out a quiet
groan. He stared up at the ceiling again. Looks like it was back to
contemplating.
It was going to be a long night and he was already getting fidgety . . .
His fingers brushed something on the bed. He picked it up curiously and it
let out a rattle.
Two minutes later he was outside with the others, playing with Cordy against
Wesley in a winner-take-all Scrabble match. They won.
END