"I had a vision of you. That's how Angel found you. I felt everything.
And those guys are better off squashed, I truly think, but - somewhere
in that moment of panic a decision got made and I *don't* want something
like that to happen to my friends - or, and I can't stress this enough,
me. - No matter what, sex complicates the equation - even more than you
think."
- Cordelia; Untouched
--
It was kinda funny, if you thought about it.
They both wore leather jackets. On both of their faces was a scowl that, in a fleeting glance, would have frightened some, caused others to walk in another direction.
By all rights, the pair, walking side by side, looked almost the same.
Faith was never naïve enough to believe she and Wes were cut from the same mold, despite more than a few people who had told her.
Sure, at first glance, a quick dossier of their file that Fred dutifully kept would reveal a similar past: both seeking redemption from an attempt to do right gone horribly wrong, to prove to even themselves that they deserved this second chance, that the bitterness that came from trying their damndest in a world that had spit on them had not yet eaten them whole.
But there were differences, obvious and palatable and glaring.
Wesley blended in. Even in his leather coat, he wore a cashmere shirt, smooth to the touch and soft under her fingertips. His pants were brown, wrinkle free, and his shoes were a solid black. Stubble, closely shaved and almost deliberate, hid a scar that shone red when he was angry or excited. She had learned that her first night with him, a fierce coupling that had been sex and nothing more. Her hands had drifted, fingered, and he had flinched.
It was a look she had never forgotten, the look that made her understand, believe, for the first time since she had set foot in the Hyperion, that Wesley, evil lawyer, still had actual feelings.
First, second, third impressions that were squashed, turned on their head, shifted and marked.
She had learned, from her own crisis, the shift in relations from the moment she stopped fucking Wes and started making love to him - something she still had a hard time admitting - that no one was the same.
She and Wesley were as different as night and day. She was a killer, when the bones were bared. She was fucking good with mind games, with manipulation, and for a long time she had sought to destroy because she couldn't face herself, what she was. Wes, the bastard, had stared down at the evil that resided in himself, ignored it, and then embraced it, became a soulless, stodgy bastard who fucked with his life, with his lawyers, and had become bitter and angry enough to take her on-
Because he had been bored with the whole thing.
No, they were never the same. Walking side by side, fingers entangled as they sifted through the crowds of the Union Station, she knew, they weren't.
"There," he said crisply, voice low as he immediately turned, casual as he covered her from the view, hands slipping around her waist, drawing her in.
With a rueful smile, Faith tilted her head, drawing in a ragged breath when his lips suddenly caressed just under her jaw. Keeping him close, she ignored the slight tremor from his nuzzling to study the scene he had opened before her.
"Yeah, that's him." He smelled of Old Spice, Wes was way old school. He murmured something, a vibration against the softest spot of her jaw, and it made her tremble. "Work, Wes," she managed to mumble, drawing a mischievous chuckle that quickly turned into a gasp when she shifted her neck and lightly tugged at his ear with her teeth.
"Blasted..." he moved away, pushing her almost abruptly, before drawing her into him, cuddling her against his chest, again hiding her. "We needn't draw anymore attention to ourselves than necessary."
"Way to state the obvious, Wes," she replied, pulling out of his embrace to move behind a pillar, once again sneaking a look to the oblivious Douglas, who, no more than twenty feet away, was reading a newspaper as he moved up one in line. "God," she whispered, turning away to rest her head against the cold marble. "This is seriously twisted, Wes."
"How so?" Wesley was completely absorbed, eyes hauntingly like a cat as he continued to stare, hand still trapped in hers, focused, gaze narrowed on the unsuspecting fiancé.
Faith took an uneasy breath, and the nausea within her churned slowly. Fuck.
How long had it been since Cordelia had walked into that damned hotel?
It seemed like another world.
Another spot, empty and waiting and Faith never wanted to admit it, but there was always a part of her in direct conflict with the other - the urge to see Cordelia return, if only to keep Angel's now unrequited love from turning into bitterness, and the small, betraying relief that Cordelia had had the guts to say 'Fuck You' to the Powers for being arrogant assholes.
The Blonde-Streaked Motor Mouth had had more courage than any of them, and it had taken guts, the severing of everything Cordelia knew, to pull it off.
Who the hell were they to dictate what she wanted?
"What the fuck are we doing?"
The words were whispered, almost a thought that had managed to make itself heard, but he heard her. He always did.
"Faith?" Something about the way she had said it must have triggered an alarm, because suddenly those intense blue eyes were all on her, Douglas forgotten about, if only for now.
They were different. They were always different, and he was just a mystery to her, even when she professed to know him. Because there was no way she could have fallen this hard, this quickly with Wesley. There was no way that a man who had tangled with evil for lack of anything better to do, could have been this damned gentle with a woman who had once thought it would be fun to run a piece of glass from his left pectoral down to his belly button.
She couldn't understand it, but she needed it, all the same.
Her eyes closed, and she managed a weak smile. "It's not our shit, Wes. You know? Maybe..."
"What?"
"Maybe she's better off in boring old Maine." Her eyes opened, and she caught a dubious stare from him.
He was thoughtful, hand falling away from her face as he squinted once more to their target, blowing out a contemplative breath.
"Faith- remind me of this: when you and I became reacquainted-" she had to smile at that. Reaquainted. How quaint. Sounded a hell of a lot better than 'when we were fucking the living shit out each other in a power struggle that nearly killed us both'- "You said something to me."
"I said a lot of things to you, Wes," she said pointedly.
"True, but one of reasons I returned with you was this," Again his gaze swiveled, pinned on her. "You told me, in less than flattering terms, that I was a coward. I refused to see my faults, refused to see beyond my own bitterness to understand my true place because I feared it. Do you remember?"
She did- she had said it with every intention of hurting him, angering him to the point where she could turn her back on him and not have to deal with what they were, what she didn't want them to be- the words had spilled and she had cried soon after.
Tears she would never really forgot. Faith just did not cry.
"Yeah. I remember, Wes."
"And then?"
She gave a small smile, arms crossing as she couldn't help but stare in wonder. Ass. "I said the reason I knew this shit was because I already had. That I was better than you, that Angel was better, because of it."
"A point I still contest," he added. "But it was a true point, Faith. And you were correct in your assertation. I can not lie about that."
"And neither can Cordelia."
"That's right." And suddenly, she understood, why Wes was doing this, even with his Angel issues, and his 'not a champion' issues. Cordelia. Cause he still cared about Cordelia.
"She's being a chicken shit."
"Yes, she most defi- he's moving." Immediately, he turned, and she followed, taking his outstretched hand and tangling their fingers, sun glasses slipped on to hide the focus of her attention.
"Don't get me wrong," she said after a minute, lingering at the Krispy Krème Cart when Douglas stopped to pat at a little poodle. "I like that she's taken over. Certainly resolves the little issue we had before."
"Issue?"
"Yeah. You know, the 'you get anywhere near that skanky whore again I'll castrate you and kill her ass' issue."
"Will you get the bloody hell OFF Lilah?" Wesley simpered, thoughtful as he pulled up his long sleeve and pulled back his wrist.
She grabbed it, immediately fiddling with the clasp and unhooking the thousand dollar watch. "Don't get me fucking started, Wes."
"It didn't bloody stop you from suggesting your own philanderous intentions with that poof, did it?"
Her lips quirked. "Jealous?"
"You infuriating little brat." Large fingers threaded through her hair and she was plastered against him when his mouth descended and her lips were plundered in a deep, harsh kiss.
She was released just as quickly, but there was a twinkle in her eye as he plucked the watch from her hand and cupped it in his palm. "I'll be back."
She would have said 'Be Careful', but damn if THAT sounded way too domestic.
Instead, she kept her eyes on Douglas, on Wesley's form as he weaved unnoticed to the crowd, toward the unsuspecting fiancé.
Fuck.
Faith took in a shuddering breath, and leaned back, using the wall for support as glanced again at the scene.
Yeah. Cordelia was being a chicken-shit.
She knew that.
But, FUCK-
If Wesley had been there... if he had known... if he had felt-
--
-pure panic as it filtered through Angel's face.
"I can't find her."
Faith was out of breath. She had long ago shrugged out of her leather jacket, and the wind was chilling.
She felt cold, the sensation fluttering down her spine as she whirled around on the cliffs, eyes drifting heavenwards.
"They couldn't have taken her that quickly," Angel growled, face jerking up into the stillness of the sky.
"You mean they do this shit on a regular basis?!" Faith blinked, drawing in deep, ragged breaths, absently wiping her bloody palms on her jeans, wincing at the dark smudges. "Fuck..."
The exhaustion of the past few days overwhelmed her tired body, and Faith felt her knees give out from under her. She collapsed on the gravel, drawing her legs toward her and cradling them toward her chest, shivering in the salty ocean air, the sound of the waves crashing into her ears.
"There's a trial going on up there..." Angel remained standing, his tall body towering above. His left hand hovered somewhere near her face, and she caught the wedding ring as it glistened in the moonlight, sparkly and for some reason, of interest.
"Explain this to me," she finally said, teeth chattering slightly, fingers threading through wild tresses in an effort to keep the humidity from frizzing them further. "So... I'm still having issues with Cordelia being all 'higher being' and crap, but they take her?! Like... all the time?!"
"It's a trial," Angel repeated, hands curling into fists as he let out a slow breath. "She goes up there to battle for the souls the only way I can't."
"So... no kick-o, no fight-o?" Faith mimicked, gathering her strength and rising to her knees. "Damn if I don't feel all fucking useless."
Angel never glanced at her, only continued to search the heavens for any sign of his wife. Faith was uncomfortable with the silence, the Hyperion had been filled with more and more fighting recently, and she felt the tension gnaw at her, the quiet serving to tighten the knots deep inside of her.
Her left cheek stung, and with a sniffle, she reached up, patted it, came away with smeared blood on her already stained palms. Fuck. So that was it then... Three days of fighting, of damned near getting killed to save a guy who had killed the guys who had raped his wife, and in the end, there wasn't even a damned point.
All it took was some divine intervention and Cordelia plucked up to ascend on high and that was it.
"This sucks."
"Yeah. It does." Angel shot her a nervous smile. It looked out of place on the vampire's face, and Faith couldn't help but smile insincerely back at it.
"Bugs the shit out of you, doesn't it?"
"What does?" He must have noticed her shivering, because the trenchcoat was shrugged off, and gently placed over her shoulders.
"That she does this. Hey- question."
He blinked, nodded once, almost wary. "Okay."
She felt the salt of the air invade her wound and she winced. Her cellphone was clattered somewhere in the darkness behind her, and she knew the others were lost somewhere. Most likely looking for them, wondering where the hell they were.
Even now, she had to wonder at the surrealism of this whole thing. A battle so large, so consuming, a battle of a soul, and now her speeding heart had to slow down, wait...
On CORDELIA, of all people.
"Why her?"
Angel blinked, his 'confused' face, and Faith, new in her attempts to make with the talkie and the sincere conversation, still felt the frank wonder. "What do you mean?"
"Cordelia - the one I knew, that wasn't a higher being, Angel. Now... hell, I'm willing to believe a lot of crap has changed, I mean... look at me, but... you think she can't take this shit? That she's strong enough?"
"Do you think she can't?" Angel's voice was edged in anger, as Faith had just directly insulted his precious Cordelia. Maybe she had.
"Look, all I'm saying is, those bags under her eyes- they aren't trademarks of any Higher Beings I know of."
"How many do you know?" Angel snapped.
"She's not a higher being, Angel," Faith snapped back, getting to her feet and swaying almost dizzily when the pain of her injury overwhelmed her slightly. "That's what I'm saying. That's a hell of a lot of pressure to put on a chick that's barely twenty-five-"
"She's stronger than that, Faith."
"Fuck, yeah! Doesn't mean she deserves that shit?!"
He walked away from her. Angel was good at that. Everytime a conversation didn't go his way, he just turned tail and ran, and like Cordelia, Faith followed him, suddenly shouting into the wind. "You put that label on her and she's FUCKED, Angel! Tell me you don't see that!"
"I have faith in her, Faith- that's all I need to see."
"That's all you wanna see-"
"Faith-"
"Angel, she's getting bored with shit- one way or another you're going to lose her and tying her to you with this mission isn't-"
His hand grabbed her shoulder, pushed her back quicker than she was ready for, and she felt, gravel biting into her palms as she threw them back to catch herself, rolling away from her pissed off friend.
"Why the hell are you telling me this, Faith? I know my wife." He crouched now, eyes dark and narrowed as they glared at her. "I know her, and I know-"
"You know shit, Angel," she chuckled bitterly. "She's left you behind and you're scrambling on your ass to catch up. Look, man. I'm trying hard to say this isn't about you. I'm not insulting you or anything I'm just-"
"What, Faith?" he bit. "What?"
Her pants were wet and dirty. Her hair hung down now in muddy tendrils, and Faith knew she must have looked like a damned mess, especially compared to the vampire who stared down at her. There wasn't a hair out of place, no scars or blood marring the perfect features.
But for the first time in her life, she felt sorry for him.
"She's got stuff that she's never dealt with, all right? And it's gonna build up and eat her up inside and when that happens, she's gonna run..."
What do you know? The auto-biography ala Sigmund Frued.
He got it. And yeah, he was still a vampire, because he took a long hard look, and then straightened away from her, biting crisply, "She's not you, Faith."
Fucking bastard.
"Fine," she whispered. "Fine-"
"Faith, I'm sorry-"
"Forget it."
"Faith..."
He sounded apologetic. Apparently the soul had caught up with the vampire, but Faith was in a Slaying mood, and there was no way in hell she was going to turn and face the bastard with the stake sticking into her pocket.
Raising a fist behind her, she let a third finger stick straight up, walking as quickly as she could away from the beach-
And then she heard the scream.
Faith froze, the sound filling her ears, familiarity sending a chill straight through her. She jerked around, wind whipping her hair almost painfully into her face. She pushed it away, and began to run, pants heavy and heart racing as she struggled to catch up the vampire as he sped forward.
It was a good two hundred feet, the hunched figure huddled on the cliff was barely recognizable, but she sure as hell hadn't been there before.
When Faith got close enough, her steps faltered, suddenly losing the strength to move any closer.
Fuck.
The former May Queen huddled in the dirt like a baby, face hidden as she sobbed, figure wracking with sobs, cries that were now low and quiet.
Even Angel was stunned into silence. The vampire stood, unsure, face hidden from Faith as he walked slowly forward, gently kneeled.
"Corde-"
Cordelia jerked from his touch, in her momentum falling on her side. She didn't move.
Oh, crap... crap, crap, crap-
"Cordelia..." Angel once again tried to reach for her, hands hesitant. Faith held her breath, eyes darting from the vampire to his wife, the 'higher being' who at this moment was rolling in dirt.
"Angel..." Faith sucked in her breath, surprising even herself when she whispered, "Shut the hell up."
He didn't even look at her as he tried again, but Cordelia was too quick. The tremoring that had taken over her body ceased, and before his hand even reached her shoulder, she pushed him away.
Faith finally saw her face.
Cordelia's orbs were pure white, fading by the second into the hazel she knew.
"Don't touch me." Her voice had no volume behind it, in it a lilt that Faith barely heard over the crashing waves. Despite that, her tone held an iron command, anger that seemed to seep through the Cheerleader as she slowly, too slowly, got to her feet. "I'm hot- I'll burn you..."
Cordelia had been wearing black before she was taken. Now she was dressed in all white, long and flowy, and the wind whipped through her short bangs as they flew from her face.
She didn't look at Faith as she brushed past her, with her dead eyes that scared the hell out of the Slayer.
"What the FUCK happened up there?!" she finally burst.
"He's dead."
"Dead?!" Angel was right behind her, both warriors treading in the sinking, wet sand after the Seer as she wiped her eyes, walking in a quick, determined line straight back where they came from.
"Yes, dead. Damned. Eternally."
"Fuck, Cor! You were supposed to save him!"
"Don't, Faith."
"Cordelia." Angel jogged past her, grabbed an elbow, voice almost desperate as he swung his wife back toward him. "What do you mean?"
Again, she shrugged him off. "He's dead, Angel."
"Cordelia-"
Again, Faith felt desperately out of the loop, and it was beginning to piss her off. Somehow, however, she didn't have the strength to push herself in on this... not with that look in Cordy's eyes.
"What do you mean, he's dead? Cordelia-"
"I don't want to talk about it-"
"Cordelia- whoever killed him, we have to know." Angel had a death grip on her shoulder now, voice earnest and full of righteous anger. "We have to find a way to save his soul, bring him back, maybe to heaven or-"
"And what if he's evil, Angel? Like the prophecies-"
"The prophecies said Connor was evil. You never believed that."
She swallowed hard, a gulp that Faith would have probably heard had it not been for the sea ringing in her ears.
"Angel-"
"It's not like you to give up, Cordelia. Tell me what happened."
Cordelia's voice was unusually hard. "And then what, Angel? Will you kill the person that damned him? Will you destroy them for what they did? To know that they were able to look into the eyes of a human soul and send them into eternal torment? What would you do, Angel?"
"What was right, Cordelia." He was loosing patience. Cordelia was driving both of them crazy, but there was something that kept Faith's trap shut. An uneasy feeling that twisted with in her, bubbling up with Cordy's seething hate.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
"And what if it was right?"
"It's NOT, and you know it." Angel's hand tightened around her. The vampire held onto his demon wife, never letting her go. "What did they do, Cordelia?"
"I did it."
Three little words that came out almost broken.
Fuck.
Startled, Faith gasped for breath, stepping back as Cordelia stared beseechingly into Angel's face. He looked stunned, unsure, disbelieving.
"You did what?"
"I damned him. It was me, Angel. I damned him."
The words sunk in, and Cordelia seemed almost like a lost child as she clung to Angel, stared into his eyes, desperate for ... something. Understanding maybe? Forgiveness? Shit... Faith's mind was a desperate whirlwind, struggling to lock onto some sense of clarity.
She was out of this entirely now, but even she could discern the look on Cordelia's face, the fragile balance between aching hurt and the need for acceptance-
But... Fuck-
And Angel was absolutely still, staring at Cordelia, silent with disbelief.
The emotion only crossed his face for a second. That was all. But it was enough.
Anger, judgment, disbelief-
It flickered through his features, left as quickly as it came, but Cordelia saw it.
Her own face changed just as quickly: the softness fell, and the hardness came back.
"Cordelia-"
Cordelia ran from both of them.
It wasn't the last time.
--
"Where's the Light Bright?"
"Visiting the Little Champion's room," Miller responded, eyes on the mouse, fingers gently smoothing over it as he glanced at his compatriots.
"Wonder what Angel Investigations is going to do without Cordelia," Marksy mused, eyes raised toward the ceiling, lost in thought.
"Been doing all right so far, haven't they?" Al responded, mumbling through the side of his mouth as he fisted the mouse. "Pass."
"On three." Miller's large frame settled further into his chair, eyes glinting from the fiery spits of the hell dimension behind him. "Personally, I'm more interested on knowing if that vampire would really let her go."
"No kidding."
Al burst into a fit of chuckles, the demon's laughter sounding disturbingly like a baby crying, even to Miller. "Remember what he did to that Lawyer, after he put her in that coma?"
Everyone, including Miller, winced.
Al rubbed at his wrist ruefully. "Lucky bastard at least got it back."
"Anyone know who this guy she's marrying is?" Al asked, head raising, curious enough to distract himself from the game.
"I don't know. Some 'Douglas' or something."
"I give the marriage six months," Miller announced.
"Now, why do you think that?" Marksy asked, genuinely put out at the thought of divorce.
Optimistic bastard.
"Because Light Bright won't be able to stay away from the mission any longer than that." The mouse scurried to the right, near close to a heart attack and quivering with it's little dark eyes. From this light, it kinda reminded him of his thirtieth kid. "You saw her when that portal opened," he elaborated, waving toward the gaping hole when Al gave him a curious glance.
The demon shrugged.
"I had a chance to get out once," Marj mused. The demon's form was obtuse, and he looked almost comical, the starry eyed expression twinkling in his eyes. "In Mongoon. After the war. Should have taken it."
"Might be fun to take a vacation at least. Least she got that," Miller admitted. He shuffled uncomfortably, large hands creeping under the scaly armor to rub at a twisted muscle. Oww. The twitch was getting worse daily, and he dug deep, trying to find the knot buried way down deep that was causing all the pain. "Ten to one," he finally stated, "the marriage doesn't last six months."
"Yeah. Faith. Not something you guys are big on, is it?"
The foreign voice interjected into the fray was immediately, painstakingly, recognized.
Al rolled his eyes, grumbled an obsenity that only he understood. Even the normally good-natured Marksy gave a grunt at the arrival.
"How the hell did he get in here?!"
The lawyer pushed away from the door frame, tie loose and hanging around his neck, hair scruffy and standing almost straight up on his head. His eyes were dark, hooded, angry.
"So this is where you bastards congregate. Should have known."
"Hey, it's the borne-again Lawyer Boy. How's tricks?"
Lindsey MacDonald stood in the center of the Pressroom, hands fisted. "That's all you have to say to me?" he asked slowly. "All of you?"
"All we want to say," Marj muttered, ducking his head behind Al to avoid being glared at.
"That's great. Really great. You do that. Ignore me. Ignore her."
"Oh, for craps' sake, get off it," Al blustered. "We all know you're in love with the little telekinetic-"
"It's not about love. I never said that." He frowned, stepping forward, about to start in on another sermon when another Champion moved around him, focused completely on her palm pilot. "Cordelia?"
Cordelia's mouth was pursed, features distracted as she looked up distantly. "Hey, Lindsey," she muttered absently, turning back to the table of Champions. Miller cocked an eyebrow as she rested her weight against his shoulder.
"Watcha looking at, Light Bright?"
"Testimony," she responded. "I just wanted to- LINDSEY?!" Suddenly the palm pilot flew into the air, and Miller scrambled to catch the small computer as the Champion whirled, eyes suddenly wide.
"Lindsey?!"
--
end chapter.