A/N: I know, I know, pure, unadulterated Angel/Cordy fluff. Set somewhere
in Season Three.
Cordy lay on the couch, her head in Angel's lap, the pain medication from the latest vision making her head delightfully fuzzy. It was about nine at night that the vision had hit, and once the AI team had gone out to kill the nasty, then Wesley had gone off home, and Gunn and Fred had gone to a movie. And Angel? He'd gone to the video store.
So now, they were sitting, or in Cordy's case, lying on the couch, watching Julia Roberts make a prat of herself to Hugh Grant. It seemed to be a contest of who was the bigger prat, her or him, and he seemed to be winning, as he was a prat by *birth*, but now Cordelia was bored.
'Angel?" she tried. Instantly, he was watching her.
"What's wrong, Cordy?"
"Nothing, nothing, it's just." she trailed off.
"What?" he said, sitting back. It was now well past two, and Angel, being up most of the day, was sleepy, in a vampy way.
"I'm bored!" she whined, in a similar way to a five year old. He chuckled.
"What do you propose to do about it?" he said, lazily tucking his arms under his head.
"Well.."
"Spit it out!"
"Can I play?" He gave her a shocked look. She laughed. "No, it's not like that, I mean, can you vamp out? I've never seen you vamped out when I'm not, you know, running for my life."
Obligingly, Angel went bumpy. And tried to concentrate on the movie.
Cordelia ran her fingertips over the bumps on his forehead.
"They're hard."
"Yes. I think they're bone."
"Cool." The fingers trickled down to his teeth. She touched the long fangs, and pricked her finger.
"Ow!"
"I never said it wafn't goin to hur! Dn't play wif my mowf!" he said. Or attempted to. A mouthful of fangs, and Cordy's fingers prevented legible words.
"You sound weird. Shh. And let me play."
Her fingers moved down to his throat. He shifted slightly, uneasy.
"Oh, I'm not hurting you, you big baby. I just want to see where bumpy face ends."
Her fingers continued to rove. He moved again.
"Cordy, this isn't a good idea. Watch the movie, see, she's being all girly, look!" he indicated the screen. She stared at him. Then it clicked.
"You're ticklish!"
"What? No I'm not!" he said defensively. She arched one eyebrow in the patented Cordelia Chase 'whatever' look.
"Whatever you say, Angel." She snuggled into him.
Now Angel was more uneasy. And then her hand slipped under his sweater, and began to tickle.
"No! Cordy...please! Please...Cordelia! I..I can't.." the Scourge of Europe was now creased up, completely unScourgy,totally forgetting the movie in his laughing.
"Not ticklish, huh?" Cordy gave him a wicked smile.
"We'll see about that." She set to work.
"Cordelia! Stop it!" he cried, as she got up off him, and tickled some more. Suddenly,she stopped. And began tugging at his sweater.
"Cordy?"
"Tickling works better on the skin," she explained, and gave one final tug. Angel sat half naked, his torso bare for her to scrutiny. She stared. He was so pale, and seemed chiseled, his muscles were so defined.
"Like what you see?" he asked smugly. She batted him on the head.
"Shut up! You pay!" she threatened, laughing, his abs forgotten.
Two minutes of non stop tickling occurred, until the two collapsed, faint with laughing so hard. Cordy rested her head on Angel, and watched the movie. Hugh Grant seemed to have disappeared, to be replaced with an ugly Welsh guy.
Suddenly, she realised a deep noise was coming from Angel. She sat up, her hair falling over her face.
"Did you not eat enough blood?" she edemanded, her hands on her hips.
"Cordy, I'm not hungry,' he laughed. She lay back down. Gently, her hands ran across his torso, and she tentatively stroked him. The noise got deeper.
"Angel, you're purring!" she laughed.
"What?" he asked defensively.
"It's so cute!" she exclaimed. She bent down, uncertain, and he lifted his head, her hand on his chest still vibrating with the deep set purr coming from his throat. Their lips were about an inch away from one another, Cordy's mind was screaming at her, Angel's was yelling warning alarms, but.. they..were.going.to.
Fred and Gunn swung open the door, and Cordy fell off Angel in shock.
"Well I needn't ask if *you* had a good time," Gunn said, looking them up and down, and pointedly staring at Angel's forgotten sweater, sitting forlorly in a corner.
"No! I mean, it's not what it looks like!' they protested, to deaf ears.
Cordy lay on the couch, her head in Angel's lap, the pain medication from the latest vision making her head delightfully fuzzy. It was about nine at night that the vision had hit, and once the AI team had gone out to kill the nasty, then Wesley had gone off home, and Gunn and Fred had gone to a movie. And Angel? He'd gone to the video store.
So now, they were sitting, or in Cordy's case, lying on the couch, watching Julia Roberts make a prat of herself to Hugh Grant. It seemed to be a contest of who was the bigger prat, her or him, and he seemed to be winning, as he was a prat by *birth*, but now Cordelia was bored.
'Angel?" she tried. Instantly, he was watching her.
"What's wrong, Cordy?"
"Nothing, nothing, it's just." she trailed off.
"What?" he said, sitting back. It was now well past two, and Angel, being up most of the day, was sleepy, in a vampy way.
"I'm bored!" she whined, in a similar way to a five year old. He chuckled.
"What do you propose to do about it?" he said, lazily tucking his arms under his head.
"Well.."
"Spit it out!"
"Can I play?" He gave her a shocked look. She laughed. "No, it's not like that, I mean, can you vamp out? I've never seen you vamped out when I'm not, you know, running for my life."
Obligingly, Angel went bumpy. And tried to concentrate on the movie.
Cordelia ran her fingertips over the bumps on his forehead.
"They're hard."
"Yes. I think they're bone."
"Cool." The fingers trickled down to his teeth. She touched the long fangs, and pricked her finger.
"Ow!"
"I never said it wafn't goin to hur! Dn't play wif my mowf!" he said. Or attempted to. A mouthful of fangs, and Cordy's fingers prevented legible words.
"You sound weird. Shh. And let me play."
Her fingers moved down to his throat. He shifted slightly, uneasy.
"Oh, I'm not hurting you, you big baby. I just want to see where bumpy face ends."
Her fingers continued to rove. He moved again.
"Cordy, this isn't a good idea. Watch the movie, see, she's being all girly, look!" he indicated the screen. She stared at him. Then it clicked.
"You're ticklish!"
"What? No I'm not!" he said defensively. She arched one eyebrow in the patented Cordelia Chase 'whatever' look.
"Whatever you say, Angel." She snuggled into him.
Now Angel was more uneasy. And then her hand slipped under his sweater, and began to tickle.
"No! Cordy...please! Please...Cordelia! I..I can't.." the Scourge of Europe was now creased up, completely unScourgy,totally forgetting the movie in his laughing.
"Not ticklish, huh?" Cordy gave him a wicked smile.
"We'll see about that." She set to work.
"Cordelia! Stop it!" he cried, as she got up off him, and tickled some more. Suddenly,she stopped. And began tugging at his sweater.
"Cordy?"
"Tickling works better on the skin," she explained, and gave one final tug. Angel sat half naked, his torso bare for her to scrutiny. She stared. He was so pale, and seemed chiseled, his muscles were so defined.
"Like what you see?" he asked smugly. She batted him on the head.
"Shut up! You pay!" she threatened, laughing, his abs forgotten.
Two minutes of non stop tickling occurred, until the two collapsed, faint with laughing so hard. Cordy rested her head on Angel, and watched the movie. Hugh Grant seemed to have disappeared, to be replaced with an ugly Welsh guy.
Suddenly, she realised a deep noise was coming from Angel. She sat up, her hair falling over her face.
"Did you not eat enough blood?" she edemanded, her hands on her hips.
"Cordy, I'm not hungry,' he laughed. She lay back down. Gently, her hands ran across his torso, and she tentatively stroked him. The noise got deeper.
"Angel, you're purring!" she laughed.
"What?" he asked defensively.
"It's so cute!" she exclaimed. She bent down, uncertain, and he lifted his head, her hand on his chest still vibrating with the deep set purr coming from his throat. Their lips were about an inch away from one another, Cordy's mind was screaming at her, Angel's was yelling warning alarms, but.. they..were.going.to.
Fred and Gunn swung open the door, and Cordy fell off Angel in shock.
"Well I needn't ask if *you* had a good time," Gunn said, looking them up and down, and pointedly staring at Angel's forgotten sweater, sitting forlorly in a corner.
"No! I mean, it's not what it looks like!' they protested, to deaf ears.