Author: Misty Flores
With special contribution by Ness
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com
Teaser: So 'Happily Ever After' didn't last forever, and now Cordelia's ready to move past the mission, and on with her life, without Angel Investigations. Course, intent is always easier than execution, especially when Angel and company, aren't ready to let her go.
Genre: Angel/Cordelia, Cordelia/Other - Comedy
Rating: R for language, some sexual situations.
Spoilers: Tomorrow. Speculation for Season Four.
Notes: Remake based on the forties screwball classic 'His Girl Friday'. AU, Futuristic - and damned wacky.
More notes- The majority of Chapter Three was written by Ness (www.stoic-simplicity.net/anr). 'Cause she rocks.
As always- three chapters a day, so as not to overwhelm.
--
Chapter One
I didn't ask for this responsibility, unlike some people, who shall
remain lifeless! I don't have anything to atone for. If they
know what's good for them, the PTB better just stay out of my head.
Cordelia - Parting Gifts
--
Evil never really took a vacation, did it?
The hotel was virtually unchanged. Cracks in the sidewalk revealed little dandelions, weeds, but she had always liked them, poking out from the cement, adding some color to the drab gray. Bushes that she had once trimmed herself, were now wild, spilling over from their potted soil, tangling with the vines over the stones. It was her Hyperion, but chaotic, new. And still very much in business, if the yellowed sign that read 'Angel Investigations' was any indication. As she stood, she wondered if she had ever seen it this way, if the tug in her heart at the view of her old domicile would ever really go away.
With a deep breath in, Cordelia Chase took a step forward, straightening away from the car and slamming the door behind her.
She felt the brush of soft lips on her shoulder, moist breath skimming the area, and it made her smile, turn, heart skipping at the man behind her.
"I'll be just a minute," she said. "You don't have to come in."
"Hey, just a minute is a long time to be away from you."
The words should have sounded cheesy, and hell, they almost were, but Cordelia still froze, ever so slightly, hardened hazel eyes softened and she turned back to study him. Douglas Sanderson, with all his solid six foot, 2 inch frame, still grinned like a lost little school boy when she looked at him. A soft, rosy blush drifted to the top of his cheeks, spreading to his ears, and in his eyes was a bright song. It made her smile. There was an innocence there she had lost a long time ago, in her quest to become a warrior for the Powers That Be.
"Say that again," she whispered.
"Huh?"
"Say it again."
His blush became rosier, as his feet shifted, and he shrugged. "I just said, ya know... that... a minute is a long time to be away from you. That's... all."
Cordelia couldn't help the slightly giddy sensation as she took a breath, leaning forward and sliding a manicured, unbroken nail (the first time in months) over his chest. "I heard you, Dork-o," she said. "I just wanted to hear it again."
A soft brush of her lips against his was all it took to gather her resolve, remind herself why she was doing this, why it needed to be done. It made things easier, somehow. Her purpose made her smile fade. Noticing, he squeezed her hand. "You sure you don't want me to go in there with you?"
His worry was evident, but Cordelia (no longer Cordy - that had stopped as soon as she left. She didn't want reminders, none at all) didn't hesitate. She could handle him. She had, for most of her teenage/adult life.
"You can wait in the lobby, okay?" He looked scared, and Cordelia didn't blame him. One of the things that was so utterly refreshing about Douglas was his previous complete ignorance to the existence of vampires, demons and other other-wordly creatures. It had taken a vision to find him, and even now, she caught the view of wonder he sometimes gave her, the "I can't believe the girl I'm with is a demon' look. "It's just a talk," she assured him. "I can handle Mr. Broody."
"I'd like to give him something to handle," he grumbled, but obediently followed, hand possessively tucked in hers as they moved through the vines, into the courtyard of the Hyperion.
God, it had been so long.
Pushing open the Hyperion Lobby doors: she had done that millions of times, and she had never forgotten how it creaked in that one spot, how the heavy wood felt against her palm, the extra push it needed when it got stuck in the lock.
It was like nothing had changed, when she stepped inside, with that confident walk of ownership. And just like she remembered, the Hyperion Lobby was busy - busy as it had been, since Angel had regained his mission, embraced it when everything in his life suddenly fell into place, after they had all gone through utter hell to claim it - or in her case: heaven. Literally.
A brunette, sweaty in spandex, barreled past her. Cordelia gave out a surprised shriek (Higher Being or no, she still was not a fan of becoming human roadkill), and jumped back instinctively, into Douglas' waiting arms.
The figure gracefully twisted, and suddenly stopped, wiping a wild bang from her eyes and taking a breath. "Cordelia?" the woman questioned, giving the former Seer a look, blinking slightly. "Shit. What the fuck are you doing here?"
Douglas' mouth dropped open slightly.
"Hey, Faith," Cordelia responded, nonchalant at the rather crude greeting. The Slayer was breathing heavily, leaning over, catching her breath. The dark eyes that never missed a gesture gazed up at her now. She looked like she belonged in the Hyperion, and that was new.
Cordelia remembered watching the Slayer's first tentative steps in the Hotel, and now, SHE felt like the intruder. Again, something twisted inside her. "Nice to see you, too."
"Never said I was happy to see you," Faith shot back. Cordelia's smile froze, but she gave a short nod. Touché.
Faith smirked, indicating she understood.
Their gazes locked, and there was a moment of pure silence. Neither looked away, and it was Douglas, who pulled at Cordelia's arm, that broke the nonverbal battle. Distracted, Cordelia's eyes roved over the Hyperion, the clusters of people, and a familiar thin girl, a bald black man, among them. Her mouth twitched, a thump in her heart pounding in recognition. "You look busy."
Faith turned back, and then shrugged in disinterest. "Regular end of the world crap. Nothing we can't handle."
She might as well have finished with 'that doesn't include YOU.' Faith was never one to be subtle. Cordelia let the bittersweet pang hit her, but she gave a short nod. "Right."
Faith stood, shifting easily on her balls of her feet, eyes moving from Cordelia to her clasped hands with Douglas. "Who's that?"
The angered tone was what Cordelia expected, and she stood a little taller, gathering her strength. It was time, then. Make sure her family understood. Set her boundaries. Remind them of the promise she had made. Of the hell she had endured. In the end, her explanation only took one word, two syllables. "Douglas."
The Slayer's gaze lingered on the tangled fingers, quiet for a moment. Running her own digits through her long tresses, the former jailbird bluntly asked, "Angel know you're coming?"
"Thought I'd surprise him," Cordelia said, moving around her.
Faith snorted. "Right - cause he loves that shit. Cor, he's not exactly in a mood for-"
"Here," Cordelia pushed Douglas down on the orange sofa, ignoring Faith as she came up behind her. The Slayer was still staring at Douglas, being blatantly rude and not caring one damned bit. Douglas stared right back, eyes round in astonishment.
"She's the one that was in jail for murder, right?" he whispered.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "WAS," she enunciated. "As in past tense. She's good now - sorta."
"Cordelia?!" The squeal behind her was quickly followed by a hug that almost plowed the Seer into the couch, but she caught herself, as she immediately recognized the voice, even before the taco smell hit her.
"Hey, Fred." Winnifred Burkle was as beautiful as she had ever seen her, glasses wire framed and falling down her nose, hair in curls, drifting over her waif thin shoulders. The girl was so excited she was practically hyperventilating.
"You're BACK! I knew you'd come back! I told Gunn an' I told Angel that you'd be back, no worries! And Faith wouldn't believe me, but Ah said that-"
"FRED!" Cordelia held her grip on her shoulders firm, slightly winded from Fred's tirade. Boy - you never got used to that. "I'm not back, okay I am, but... not really."
The look she got in return was a blank stare. "But... what do you mean? You always said that-"
"Fred, shut it." Faith interrupted, arms crossed. Fred gave her a curious glance, and Slayer Girl jerked her head in Douglas' direction. "She brought him with her." Cordelia couldn't help but notice the rather disgusted annotation of the word 'him'.
For the first time, Fred seemed to see Douglas. The mousy young woman gaped, Douglas shifted, stared at Cordy helplessly, while Fred glanced nervously at the closed office door. "Does Angel know?"
Cordelia suppressed the urge to groan, and forced a smile at her former co-worker. "Not yet. But he will. He's in, right?"
"Well, he's kinda... busy, Cordelia..." Fred managed a weary smile, arms moving emphatically. "What with... you know... the trial and all..."
"He's not taking visitors." That one came from Charles Gunn, a grim line set on the face she hadn't seen in months, as he jerked his head up from his clients, leaning against the counter. He saw Cordelia then, and he froze slightly. Cordelia gave him a slight wave. He nodded warily back, unsure and curious, but in pure 'Gunn' resolve, not asking any questions, save one, when his eyes lingered on Douglas. "Angel know?"
"Oh, Good GOD," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "In his office?"
The three members of Angel Investigations continued to stare.
Leaving Douglas behind with Faith, Fred and Gunn was something akin to leaving a deer in the midst of lions, but Cordelia couldn't worry about that now. Douglas was going to have to stand on his own feet, and by GOD, he had it easy. He wasn't going to face a broody vampire with a soul.
"I'll be back."
"Cordelia, if things get rough, know that I'm here."
At the comment, Faith snorted down the laughter, Fred blinked, and Charles grinned.
"Shut up," she said sharply. "All of you." Turning to Douglas, she gave him a wave. "I'll be fine, thanks."
Cordelia took a breath and marched away from them, pushing through a couple squabbling about something in a demonic language, and nearly floating over a foosball table (that HAD to be Connor's), with square set shoulders.
Shoulders of resolve. Of anger. Of determination.
Flinging open the office door, she found a vampire hunched over a large book, a dark expression clouding his angelic face.
"Fred, I'm busy."
Cordelia couldn't help but smile. Yeah. Mr. Broody, all right. "Your ex-wife is here," she said flatly. "Want to see her?"
The vampire still had the deepest eyes she had ever seen, and once again, she felt the flush that came over when they settled intensely on hers. Dark, focused, narrowed - telling of a passionate nature, a dangerous past.
"Cordy."
"Angel."
"Cordy."
His look of stunned astonishment almost amused her. She found her strength, moving into the office and closing it the door behind her. Angel continued to stare, eyes pinned on her as if afraid to look away, and she felt slightly embarrassed by it. Swallowing down, she managed a smile, staring right back at the facet of her past that had at one point been all that mattered.
Years of friendship, of love, and less than a year of marriage to celebrate it.
Angel wore a dark blue shirt, a white tank top under it. His hair was spiked in his usual way, and he hadn't changed at all. Her eyes drifted down to his left hand, third finger. A gold band still clasped around it.
"You shouldn't be wearing that."
The words broke him of his frozen shock, as he glanced down at the ring, then back up at her. "You weren't supposed to be here to see it."
She cocked an eyebrow. "But I am."
Angel was quiet, moving around the desk to lean against it. "Cordelia-"
A shift in the air, and a burst through the door announced Connor. The young man was taller than before, more filled out, and for a moment, Cordelia just stared.
"Hey, Dad-"
"Not now, Connor..."
The young man's steps faltered, a stillness on his face now prevalent as he stared at Cordelia. "What's she doing back?"
"Hey, Connor," Cordelia said quietly, crossing her arms, eyes drinking in the sight of the angry young boy who now called his father 'Dad', and meant it.
He balled fists into his pockets, eyes burning into her hazel. "You came back?"
Cordelia licked her lips, began to answer, when Angel stepped around her. "Not now, Connor."
"But Dad-"
"Connor-"
"Look, I'm just telling you that Wolfram and Hart is withdrawing their representation."
Cordelia cocked her brow, but said nothing, leaning against the desk as Angel immediately turned. "What?"
"That's what Lorne said."
"They can't cut out now," Angel muttered, eyes closing. "She'll be dead by the end of the day."
"But I thought we were trying to get them to stop," Connor protested, clearly confused. "You said that the evil Lawyers-"
"Quiet, Connor, he's thinking," Cordelia interjected, body casual as she read the obvious signs of her ex-husband/vampire in full on brood mode. Questions flitted through her, but she forced them down. It wasn't her mission. Not her apocalypse. Not anymore. Still, she wondered who on earth they were talking about, why Wolfram and Hart were defending her, and why Angel seemed to think them cutting out was a BAD thing.
Angel whirled, and Connor straightened. "Tell Lorne to tell Wolfram and Hart that if they back Bethany, or at least stall the sentence, we'll give them full access to the scrolls for one week."
Cordelia's eyebrow arched at the judgment call. Connor's jaw dropped. "But... you can't do that!"
"Connor-"
"We're working FOR the Powers, not against them!"
"So, when Bethany's free, we'll work FOR them again," Angel said, turning back to the desk. "We'll do whatever it takes."
Cordelia kept her arms crossed, glancing back at Connor, curious now that she was only a spectator.
Connor looked frustrated, close to the young feral man he used to be, and he whirled, slamming open the door and making the frame rattle when he shut it behind him.
"That's my honey," she quipped in the silence. "All about the mission until it intrudes on his personal love life."
He didn't appreciate that comment, she could see. But the vampire still resided deep within the man she'd married, because a smirk of humor flitted across the lips, and he gave her another searching glance.
"It's not the first time I've double-crossed Wolfram and Hart," he remarked, suddenly all business, now that he had his mission to worry about, "Now what can I do for you?"
The impersonal tone was just fine with her, 'just business' was a hell of a lot easier than 'Blow Up Fight Number Fifty Million and Two'. "Mind if I sit down?"
There was a quiet silence, until a slow, dangerous smile flitted on Angel's face, reminiscent of a boy accosting a tavern wench. "Sure, Cordy," he said dryly, and patted his thighs. "This one's padded."
The snerk that came out of her was almost funny, as she rolled her eyes, turning away from his obvious request for a lap dance. "No thanks. I stopped using THAT seat a long time ago." Moving around him, she settled for pushing up onto his desk, crossing her legs, and in a burst of instinct, reaching around his books, for the bottle of brandy she knew he kept there.
A creature of habit, this one was. Taking a sip to calm her shuddering nerves, Cordelia took a breath, and immediately handed the bottle down to him.
He took it without a word, studying her with those damned vampire eyes. God, she missed unsure Broody Boy. Somewhere between the time she fell in love with him and the time she got his soul bound, he'd become way too confident for his own good.
And, a master of observation, he knew how that confidence turned her on.
"How long has it been, Cordy?" he asked, finally breaking the silence. His voice was deep, dark, edged in wonder.
"Since what?" she asked, taking the bottle back and tipping it against her lips, letting the liquor slide over her tongue, dulling her senses. She felt his eyes on her mouth, and closed hers against the dark gaze.
"Since we've seen each other."
"Four months, I think," Cordelia responded, blinking against the bitterness of the alcohol, giving it back. She let a slow smile of nostalgia come over her, demon senses flaring slightly as she breathed in, took in the familiar smell of Angel Investigations, the familiar scent of Angel. Funny, how just yesterday she was wondering if she could actually do this, sit here and not feel the bitterness.
Sure, it was here, but not nearly as much as she expected. Instead, she fought the urge to smile as she gazed over the office, and remembered. When the desk was Wesley's, when it became Angel's again, of a time when they made love on it - trying desperately to be quiet because of the others in the next room, and failing miserably when she fell OFF of it.
"Feels like yesterday," she mused out loud.
She heard a dry chuckle, broken out of her reverie when Angel shifted in his chair. She flushed, knowing he had a very innate sense of smell, and she crossed her legs. Bastard.
"Maybe it was, Cordelia," he cracked. "Maybe a dream or two last night?"
"Sweetie, I stopped dreaming of you months ago," she remarked, the game of cat and mouse suddenly back into play. God, this was ... surreal. She and Angel civil, sad... not bitter... somewhat bitter, but... resigned.
So, it hadn't worked out. Things happened. It was for the better this way. Her eyes lingered on his left hand, third finger when he shoved himself out of his chair.
"Please, Cordy," he remarked, turning toward her. "I know you."
"So you said," she said, cocking her head slightly. His gaze was almost annoying, the way he still seemed to see through her. "You don't know me, anymore, Angel."
"I'd know you anywhere, Cordelia."
It was a statement, not open to discussion, but all it got was a dry laugh, from Cordelia. "Right. I seem to recall a proposal that started out that way-"
"You remember."
"Course, I do," she remarked, suddenly wishing for a cigarette, which really came out of nowhere. She didn't smoke. A lot. "It's one of the reasons I divorced you."
There was an almost wince, and she was grateful. At least she got SOMETHING out of him that wasn't cool and calm and disconcerting. "Why'd you do that?" he asked intensely.
"Do what?"
"Divorce me."
She blinked. "What?"
"It didn't mean anything."
Damn if the vampire didn't manage to make her go all monosyllabic. "Huh?" Recrossing her legs for better circulation, Cordelia cocked her head. "I was there, Angel. It meant a whole lot."
"Cordelia, divorce means nothing to us. Marriage meant nothing. We have a bond," he came forward, hands on her thighs, burning cold into her skin. "You know that. The Powers knew it. It can't be broken."
Cordelia sighed, resignation filling her as she carefully pushed her ex-husband away. "Yeah, Angel. You're right."
"Damned right."
"I love you."
"Damned right."
"And sometimes I even wish you weren't such a bastard." He froze, gave her a glare, and turned away. The anger that had been building flared now, Cordelia's own heart jumped a beat, and she crossed her arms, sending hazel bursts of ice into his back. "Why the hell did you promise not the fight the divorce and then do EVERYTHING to try to keep it from happening?"
He sighed, shaking his head, almost like a dog trying to get rid of too much water in its coat. He almost looked ashamed. Almost. "I tried, Cordelia. You know, I tried to let you go. I did. You were better off without me, and I knew it, but... I couldn't do it. I couldn't let you leave me..."
"Oh, right, and hiring an airplane to write in the sky 'Cordy, don't do it, remember my manly boob muscles' really made me think," she snapped sarcastically. "It held up the damned legal proceedings twenty minutes while the judge went out to watch it."
He grinned, a devilish 'Angelus' grin. "Don't mean to brag, baby, but I still got those muscles."
"Oh, please."
"Oh, come on, Cor. I just didn't want to have you leave me. I didn't want to break up our happy home."
She 'pffted' him. "Happy?"
"We were happy, Cordy."
"You mean, in between all the missions and the bloodshed, and the carnage? Does our honeymoon ring a bell?"
"Hey, it wasn't my fault the Powers sent you a vision-"
"A honeymoon, that was all I wanted," Cordelia said wistfully. "A brief, small, little interlude with my vampire hubby on the beach, with no visions, no cave-ins... instead? I spend the weekend picking fish guts from my bikini while you go Jonah on me. Do you know how long it took me to get that damned fish belly smell from your shirt?"
"Cordelia, it was the mission. It's still the mission, and I remember when it was the most important thing to you-"
"Well, the mission can go screw itself, because I'm tired of being the walking Seer doormat-" Cordelia found her words dangerously close to screeching, and she forced herself to stop. Taking in a breath, she placed two fingers on the bridge of her nose, and counted to five. "Okay," she said, opening her eyes, "Look, Angel... all I came here to say, was stop stalking me. You can't call me ten times a day. That's what restraining orders work to PREVENT-"
"Hey, but aren't you proud I learned how to use that voicemail?" he grinned. "Took me a long time, but I learned. For you."
"Angel-"
"And you gotta admit, my singing's improved. Lorne's even thinking about-"
"Angel, SHUT UP! GOD! Remember when you used to be broody and stoic and all silent? How about we regress?!"
Angel grinned, and she groaned, falling against the desk when he patted her shoulders. "Cor, it's okay."
"It's not okay, Stalker Psychotic Vamp-"
"Cordelia, it's going to be okay. Look, just come back to work, and if things work out, we'll get married again."
Oh, she HAD to be in the Twilight Zone. "You're certifiable." Sighing in exasperation, Cordelia turned back to her best friend and closed her eyes, praying for patience. "Look, sweetie, you're a wonderful, wonderful man, in a crazy, psychotic kind of way, now will you SHUT UP so I can tell you what I came here to say?"
"Cordy-"
"I wasted enough time already-"
"Cordelia-"
"WILL YOU STOP with the naughty touching?!" Smacking at his roving hands, Cordelia moved around the vampire, putting the desk between them. "ASS WIPE!"
"Cordelia, watch your temper. You know how you get when you start glowing."
Dammit, she really WAS glowing. Closing her eyes, she took another breath, bringing down the light beginning to radiate from her fingertips. She hated him, but she really didn't want to fry him. Not yet.
"Angel," she began heavily. "You are NOT my husband, and you are NOT my boss. And you're not going to be, anymore."
Angel blinked, and by God, the stupid ego-ridden vamp actually looked surprised. "You're not coming back to work? But Cordy, all you cared about was the mission."
"I don't care about the mission anymore, Angel. The mission is going to have to get along without me. And so will you."
"The mission was just fine with you until we got married!" He looked almost like a little boy when he pouted. GOD, she missed Mr. Brood. This was her humanizing influence? Dork.
"What? It's MY fault now?"
"It could have worked fine as Champion and Seer, but NO, Cordelia, you had to go and MARRY me."
She blinked. "Oh," she said, voice deadly and carefree. "So, I suppose it was ME that proposed."
"Well, you were the one with the smelling and the smiles and with the skirts, and the 'I know you, Angel', and the 'I'm not leaving you, Angel', for two years until I broke down!"
She couldn't help it. The book just clipped him as he ducked. "Losing your aim, Cordelia."
She sighed. "Angel-"
"Sorry, sorry. Look, Cordelia. It's been a rough day, okay?" He took a breath, one she knew for a fact he didn't need, shoulders hunched and tense.
Cordelia frowned. "What?"
"Remember Bethany? She umm... moved things?"
Cordelia frowned, searched her memory, and found a glimmer of recognition. "Telekinetic girl with abuse issues?"
"Yeah. She got herself in trouble with the Powers, and now they're holding her on this trial, and Wolfram and Hart are defending her - if they win, she goes with them, they get her soul."
"And if they lose?"
"The Powers lock her up. In their own hell."
Wow. Cordelia blew out her breath, arms crossed as she blinked, and then remembered she wasn't supposed to care. Taking out a compact, she began to reapply her lipstick. "So?"
"So we have to get her out. She's got a huge role to play in the coming apocalypse if the scroll is right-"
"Which scroll?"
"Nyazian."
"Of course."
"We need a mediator for the Powers, they're holding her, and if we don't get her appealed, we could-"
"All die? Gee, when has that not happened?"
"Cordelia," Angel's voice was heavy. "We could really use your-"
Her eyes jolted up, and immediately she knew what was coming. "OH, no. Angel - I'm NOT doing it. I'm not working here anymore-" She shoved the compact in her purse, fully prepared to bolt when Angel turned.
"Cordelia, this isn't about me, it's about the mission-"
"And I've told you before, Angel," she barked, "SCREW the mission, okay? I'm not dealing with the Powers, not after that-"
"Cordelia, maybe this is what you need. Your faith restored. Saving a soul, and it's not for me, it's for Bethany. Saving her life."
"Angel, you KNOW you can get her off-"
"Well..." he frowned. "Not really, Cordelia, because, the accuser is ... Skip."
"SKIP!? My old demon guide Skip, oh GOD..." Cordelia cringed.
"I can't get into a room for two minutes before he starts to try and pound me-"
"Well, you DID try to get him fired, Angel-"
"He took you away!"
"And what about the time after that, when you pulled off that mouth on his shoulder-"
"He tried to take Connor-"
"For training!"
"See? This is why I need you, Cordelia-"
She closed her eyes, furious at getting sucked into the 'around the rosy' conversation yet AGAIN. "Angel, I'm not going to do this again-"
"Cordelia, the mission needs you-"
"Will you just let say what I came here to say?"
"You could do it, Cordelia, you could save the-"
"ANGEL LOOK!" It was there, in his face, she had no other choice. Her left hand, third finger. "You see what that is?" she screeched desperately. "It's an engagement ring!"
And she got him back. Broody Angel, who stared at the ring as if he had never seen such a thing before. It was new, big and shiny, and it was all he could see for that moment. Cordelia's heart was heaving in her chest, and her eyes blinked back tears at the look of pure astonishment on his face.
His hands were slow, as he reached up to finger it. "An engagement ring," he repeated.
She swallowed, trying to get the words out fast, pull them from her like a band-aid. "I'm getting married, Angel."
--
End Chapter