Chapter Eleven
"You think the Powers beam me pretty pictures purely for my amusement?
They tell me when someone's in danger and that someone is you!
"Oh, gee. I'm in danger. What else is new?"
Cordelia and Angel, The Price
--
She was never used to waiting.
It was something she hated, and although her pre-demon days it seemed it was all she EVER did, she couldn't learn to go back to that. Not now.
Checking her watch again, Cordelia continued to pace the Pressroom, closing her eyes for just a second to stumble with the aftermath of the vision. A quick flash, not much else, but it still caused her to flail for the chair, lean against it for a minute, just a minute.
God. She had forgotten how much it took over.
"Light Bright!" Opening her eyes, she found Miller looking down at her, an axe resting on his shoulder. "You still here?"
"You know me," she whispered. "I'm like the Godfather. Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."
"Yeah." He patted her on the shoulder and moved around, throwing the axe into the weapons closet and choosing a spear. Cordelia watched him, hazel eyes darkening.
"You really think you'll need that?"
"Never can be too careful with a crazy kid like that."
"You mean you think she can kick your ass," Cordelia responded frankly, resting her chin on her palm as she watched him head toward the dimension opening.
"I wouldn't go THAT far," he grumbled, ducking through the opening.
It crackled shut after him, and Cordelia used the moment of solitude to keep her hands in her face, let her trembling heart still for just a minute.
"God," she whispered. "This sucks." Bethany was free and clear for the moment, she knew that much. But in the hell dimension she had no alternatives. It would be like tracking a rat in the maze, and with an increasingly unstable telekinetic, there was no telling how violent or bloody things could get.
The girl needed her champions. The girl needed Angel.
Metallic dongs chimed meekly, forcing the tired demoness to glare at her ruined jacket. For a moment she merely stared, as if by glaring alone, the phone would turn itself off, but when it continued to ring, Cordelia finally signed, leaning forward and fishing her cellphone out of the lined pocket.
Her head plastered against the wood, Cordelia once again closed her eyes as she snapped weakly, "Hello?"
"Cordelia?!"
Her eyes immediately flew open. Sitting up so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash, Cordelia blinked. "Douglas?"
Oh, GOD, Douglas! He was still waiting outside! He must have been sitting there all this time-
"Douglas-"
"I'm in jail again."
Her mind fell to pieces. Cordelia's mouth dropped opened as she tried to comprehend that sentence.
"WHAT?!" she screeched. "Again?!"
"I... yeah."
"WHAT FOR?!" She was shouting now, bordering on hysterics. This was crazy. This was insane, this was impossible-
"Detective Lockley calls it..." there was a slight pause. "Propositioning."
Lockley? KATE Lockley? "Wait a minute," she breathed. "Kate?"
"Yes. Cordelia, I swear-"
"PROPOSITIONING?!" Her mind suddenly caught up, dismissed Kate immediately when the other words filtered through.
"Cordelia, I know it looks bad, but I swear, I didn't do it! I mean, first Faith comes to the car and asks for a cigarette and then that girl Fred comes along-"
Fred. Faith. Kate.
"Oh, God," she whispered, slumping into the chair. "Douglas?" she asked, tone suddenly resigned.
"Yeah."
"Is Gunn there?"
"Who?"
"Big guy? Bald?"
"Oh..."
"Calls Fred 'schmoopy bear'?"
"Yeah. That's him."
"Nevermind," she muttered. "I know how it happened. Hold on." DAMMIT. DAMMIT. DAMMIT.
She was going to kill him. She was going to-
It took her three tries to get her shaking fingers to dial Angel's number.
"Hello?"
"Connor," she said sweetly. "Do you mind getting your son of a bitch father for me?"
"He's not here."
"What do you mean 'he's not here'? He was there a minute ago! Hold on-" Clicking over, Cordelia once again said, "Hold on Douglas-"
"Cordelia-"
Clicking back, she continued her rant, "WHERE is he?!"
"Not here, Cordelia. I swear."
"I'm going to kill him, Connor, I swear. And save you the trouble."
"I don't want to kill him anymore, Cordelia."
"Right." Clicking off the phone, she slammed it shut. "Fine, Connor. Forget the fact I healed you from all your hate, FORGET the fact I wiped your damned ass when you were pooped- SIDE with your father- DOUGLAS?!" Scrambling, she dropped the phone twice before she managed to get back to her fiancé. "Sweetie, hi."
"Cordelia!"
"Look..." Glancing at the walls of the pulsing Pressroom, Cordelia closed her eyes. Dammit. "I can't get there now."
"WHAT?!"
"Look, it's... hard to explain but- I'll be there as soon as I can, okay? Bye!"
"Cordelia!"
She clicked the phone shut, and slammed her head on the table.
"What's with the Light Bright?"
That had to be Marj. Opening one eye, Cordelia checked. Yeap. And Miller and Al, and a few more.
"Tired," she murmured.
"And how," Miller confirmed, settling in beside her. Propping large, heavy feet on the table, he glanced at Al. "Almost an hour and not a peep. I don't know where that girl is hiding but she's got her nicks and cracks down pat."
"Crazy, huh? I'da figured she'd do something else, you know? Like try to fight her way out. That would been the-"
"Stupid thing to do," came the voice from the doorway. "Remember," Skip retorted, "Crazy, not stupid."
"How can you be crazy, and not stupid?" Bugsy asked, settling in with an axe and a polishing cloth.
Miller snorted. "Easy, just ask Skippy here."
"Why the hell are you all in here, instead of in there?" the demon guide snarled, seconds before he finally saw Cordelia. He nodded. "Cordelia."
She waved a tired arm in greeting. "Hi, Skip."
"She'll show up eventually," Al remarked. He was currently standing in front of a mirror, flossing his incisors.
"Not like she can go anywhere," Marksy added, more interested in seeing if he could relocate the missing rat than finding the girl. Eyebrow cocking in silent amusement, Cordelia didn't even have the energy to lift her head as she watched the comical sight of the large demon scuttling on all fours across the dirty floor.
"Know what I'm betting." Marj offered his observation as he came up behind Skip, draping an arm around Skip's scaly form, eyes drifting up in open contemplation. "That lawyer guy had something to do with it. Came in here all self-righteous and crap, going on and on about his evil hand..." Yelping suddenly, Marj jumped back, glaring at the chattering mouth on Skip's shoulder. "Bastard."
"Where is that little runt, anyway?"
Miller gave a dry snort. "It's hard to tell, your Demon Guidey-ness. There's so MANY cockroaches around here..."
Cordelia couldn't help the small smirk that lifted onto her features at the look of absolute frustration on Skip's face. It froze when he glared at her.
"You enjoying this?"
She smiled sheepishly. "Just a lil' bit," she answered, closing her forefinger and thumb together.
"Taking their side?"
"Champions gotta stick together, Skippy," Miller grumbled, slapping a hand on Cordelia's back, forcing her to lurch forward and nearly choke. "Oh. Sorry."
"Don't EVER do that again," she growled, rubbing at her throat.
Marksy, still on his hands and knees, apparently had given up looking for the mouse, and instead had passed the time now studying the Demon Guide. "Shouldn't YOU be looking for her?" he asked shrewdly. "I mean, not to be obvious or anything, but don't you think this is just a GREAT time for this to happen. You've been screwing up with the Powers, Skip."
"Leaving us to do your little clean-up work," Miller whistle, words now accompanied by a sing-song tone. "Losing your clout, man."
The sour expression on Skip's only fueled the other demons' ribbing. "You're going down, down, down..."
There was chuckles all around, and the sallow face on Skip grew harder. "You forgetting who's the boss of who here?"
"Not for loooong!"
Finally taking pity on her old friend, Cordelia shook her head, fighting off a smile. "Give him a break, guys. He's got a lot of stress on his mind. He did go visit my ex-husband, after all."
"You knew about that?"
"I'm have magical powers," she quipped. "I know everything. I'll read your hand for a dollar."
"I'll give you ten if you read something else, Light Bright!"
Laughter erupted as Cordelia swiveled, attempting to look offended and failing miserably. "Behave," she glared.
"That's it," Skip growled. "Everyone up. OUT. LOOK. NOW." The last word came accompanied with a growl and a rumble. No one moved. Skip glared. No one moved. Skip took a step forward. No one moved.
"Oh, come on, guys," Cordelia finally said. "Give him a break."
Miller grudgingly got to his feet. "You're lucky we're being charitable today, Skip."
"You'll do it because it's your JOB."
Marj responded by flicking Skip the middle finger.
Cordelia blinked, cocking her head in turn with Skip as they disappeared through the portal. "Must have spent some time with Faith." Turning back, she found him staring. "What?" she asked, suddenly self-concious.
"Light Bright?" he questioned.
"Eh. Could have been worse. I could have been Glow Worm."
"Skip!" The interruption in the affectionate moment was caused by a lawyer striding through the open Press Room, jogging forward, a briefcase in her hands. "Sorry I'm late, got caught up in..." Lilah Morgan faltered to a stop, suddenly connecting gazes with a very narrowed pair of hazel eyes.
"What's she doing here?" Cordelia asked flatly.
"What?" Lilah asked, shoulders suddenly deflating. "Are the good guys all having a convention somewhere? Who the hell am I going to run into next?"
"I'm hoping Faith," Cordelia snapped darkly. "I know you've got an ass she'd love to kick."
"Now, ladies," Skip began.
"Well, if it isn't the Bitch of Abandon," Lilah said quickly, eyebrow quirking, a smile coming onto her face. "Thought you were out of this, Cordelia."
"I was. Then I heard about the luscious opportunity to kick screw YOU over in this whole thing and I just couldn't pass it up," she responded. "How's your love life, by the way? Been dumped by any more Watchers, lately?"
Oooh. Ouch. Cordelia's icy tone was the best of the bitch inside of her, and it worked, just the right amount of sarcastic, sympathetic venom to force the mask on Lilah's face to crack. Just a little.
Skip saw it. In two seconds he was between both women.
"Enough. This isn't about either of you, all right? This is about a woman, and a trial, and justice."
The arrival of Cordelia's old arch-nemesis and rival had done more than cause her blood to boil, and suddenly tired of the whole charade, Cordelia's mouth suddenly kept going, this time zero-ing on her old "friend", Skip.
"Oh, really?" she declared icily. "You sure it isn't just about making sure that you get yours with Angel?"
"Cordelia," Lilah began.
"ENOUGH," Skip barked. Pushing back at the lawyer, he led her to another dimension, eyes cold and angry as they connected with the dark orbs of Cordelia. The seer stood her ground. The old ease had given way to the years of tension, as she stood, seeing that angry expression in countless dimensions, pushing her, always pushing her, forcing her to make choices she never wanted to make and breaking her spirit, bit by bit.
It was safe to say that in that click of a second, she didn't like Skip very much.
"Cordelia. This isn't your fight. Get out of this, NOW."
The implicit threat wasn't unnoticed. Cocking her head, she indicated, she understood, but she still leaned against the hard wood of the table, still dug her heels into the dirt, and still stood her ground.
Screw this shit.
He wasn't getting away with this. Lilah Fucking Morgan wasn't getting away with this.
No one was screwing Angel.
No one was killing Bethany.
And NO ONE was going to screw her.
--
"NOT a problem? She's NOT a problem?" Pushing a brown strand of hair away from her face, Lilah unbuttoned her blazer, fanning at the heat as she glared at the damned demon guide. Damned third world dimensions and their hundred degree temperatures. "Let me tell you something, Skip? That girl in there? THAT's a problem."
"Lilah-"
"We had this in the bag. The Powers weren't even considering a reprieve or a pardon and now with HER on the clock they might."
"She won't be a problem."
"HOW do you know that?!"
"HEY!" Skip nearly growled, the snap biting off his words as he glared into the human's eyes. "Because. She failed, all right? The Powers don't want her back because she FAILED."
"She failed WHAT?"
"Her tests. Two of them. When she chose to ... there were tests, and she... nevermind."
Lilah looked confused, the anger in her dark orbs faded to a now confused shape. "What do you mean?"
Skip was quiet, mouth pulled into a discernable frown before he turned away, ignoring the subject in favor of one more pleasing to him. "This case is going nowhere fast, Lilah. Frankly, I'm wondering why I don't just pull Wolfram and Hart off the case and just keep the girl myself. Trial or no trial."
Her mouth twitched in the stare contest that ensued, intimidation was something they were both used to, and it wasn't a game easily won.
"Don't be stupid," she said finally. "You know you need us just as much as we need you. You have to have a feasible reason for damning the girl, and I highly doubt 'screwing Angel Investigations' will register highly on the Powers 'truth and honor' scale. The lesser of two evils, isn't that what you told me, Skip?" She teased now, a smirk on her red lips that meant to dig into his little armor, words and barbs she was so good at now.
She was good at evil. Apparently, that was all she knew.
Even Slayers knew more about love than she did.
"Don't play exposition girl with me, Lilah," Skip said after a moment, ignoring her baited words. "I know the odds, just as much as you do. You need this."
Lilah was quiet, suddenly focused on his eyes. "Not feeling any regrets, are you?" Words carefully chosen, masked by a little tilt in her tone that came off as playful, deadly as a snake inside. "Feeling the mooshy feelings at the sight of your own little prodigal out there?"
Skip frowned. "She's Angel's problem now."
"I dare to disagree."
Lilah blinked, suddenly focused on the foreign voice behind them.
Before them, sparkles still floated in the air as a glittered blue and gold covered young man stood in the entrance of the hallway.
Lilah could have sworn she was hearing harps.
"Who's this?" she asked. Skip's eyes narrowed.
Glitter guy merely gave the room a once over, deemed it too dirty for him, and jutted his chin up. "And what business have you, consulting with a lower being?" he demanded of Skip.
"I'm not consulting, I'm consorting," Skip drawled, arms crossed. "There's a difference."
"Whatever your definition may be," Glitter Guy announced, "It is of no consequence. You have not the permission to consort with a minion of the devil."
"Several, actually," Lilah corrected, eyebrow arching as she took in the ensemble. "So... is that paint or you were actually born like that?"
The guy didn't seem to take fondly to the joke. "You dare to question an Oracle of the Powers that Be?"
"Former Oracle," Skip corrected, suddenly lazy as he leaned against the wall, studying his fingernails. "You died, remembered."
"Oh... an ORACLE," Lilah grinned. "Pleasure to meet you." She lifted a hand in greeting, but the Oracle only stared at it, as if he were seeing something incredibly disgusting and beneath him.
"I did not come to meet or socialize with any of your kind. Your kind is not permitted in the sanctuary of the Trial," he nearly spit his words, and turned his angry glare onto Skip. "The Powers will hear of your insolence in bringing her here."
"Sure. Blame it on the scaly guy," Skip murmered. "Tattle tale."
"I am merely a presenter of the truth, nothing more."
"Boy," Lilah mused, settling in beside Skip. "No wonder you fell in with the baddies. This guy is LOADS of fun."
Skip smiled at that. "There a reason you showed up in all your glittery glory, or you just here to rub that beautiful paint job in my face?"
"I have no need for some frivolities," The Oracle straightened, hands behind his back as he stood as tall as his five foot four frame would allow. "I have brought a summons from above." Throwing his head back, he ordered, "The Powers have had enough of this whole affair. They have declared Bethany free and clear of all charges. She will remain under the care of Angel Investigations pending the character of witness by former Champion Cordelia Chase. You have been ordered to stand aside."
The smiles fell off their faces.
"Not a problem, huh?" Lilah breathed, pushing herself off the desk. "Are you kidding me with this?"
"Stand aside? A murderer?"
"That has not yet been decided. I have my orders and you shall stand beside them."
"You may, but I'm not," Lilah hissed, eyes suddenly flashing as she stepped toward the Oracle. "I don't answer to the Powers, I answer to the Senior Partners, and I'm not losing this to them. I'm not losing this too."
"I am merely a Messenger," the Oracle said. "I have no other purpose."
"Lilah," Skip said, suddenly on his feet. "Do me a favor. Lock the door."
The lawyer paused, suddenly turning, confusion etched on her features. "What?"
"Do it."
The Oracle blinked, and suddenly his eyes went wide when Skips fist cracked across his jaw, sending him in a flurry of blue and gold glitter to the floor.
"Oh my GOD-" Lilah stopped herself before she could condemn herself further. "I mean... WHAT-"
Skip grinned, leaning down to turn over the Oracle. "He's gonna have blue in a place that he shouldn't."
Lilah let out a muted chuckle, awe still apparent on her elfin features. "Why do I suddenly feel like I'm in the middle of a Hepburn/Tracy classic?"
"I prefer Judy. The Harvey Girls?"
"With the bar fight?" Lilah asked, a grin suddenly sliding on her features.
"Angela Lansbury as a slut and Cyd Charisse looking virginal? Can't get much better."
"A demon with taste," Lilah laughed. "Who'da thought."
There was a gaze shared, small, admiring, before Skip chuckled, easily lifting the Oracle. "Come on, lets find some place to stash him and we'll get to work."
"A man with a dark side and a sense of humor." Picking up a briefcase, Lilah followed. "Suddenly this sounds like a lot of fun."
--
She had nearly off her fingernails when she realized with an insane bout of horror what it was she had almost done.
"Oh my GOD," she whispered, staring down in horror at the uneven fingertips. "I'm going to KILL him."
"Kill who?"
Cordelia blinked, suddenly bringing Wesley Wyndham-Price into focus. The Englishman still wore the scruffy haircut, glasses free and wearing a smirk.
"YOU."
He smiled wider. "Hello, Cordelia. You're looking well."
It was almost too easy to glare at her former best friend, hands on her hips as he descended the steps, casual and without a care in the world.
"I could really kill you, Wesley."
"No, why on earth would you want to do that, Cordelia?" Wesley remarked, steps faltering. "I hardly suspected a peck on the cheek, but at least for old times sake I deserve a hug."
"You deserve a kick in the ass!" Cordelia snarled, moving forward to poke a finger into his chest. "What the hell did you do to him!?"
"Who?"
"Douglas!"
"Cordelia, I didn't do any-"
"Don't even, Wesley." Cordelia's palm now pushed, taking Wesley back a step or two. It did nothing but make him more amused. "You were always a weenie but I never thought for a second you were innocent."
"Cordelia, that's hardly complimentary-"
"What the hell did you DO to him?! You and Slut-O-Rama from the Bronx!"
Wesley blinked, smile faltering as the sentence caught up with him. "Are you talking about Faith?"
"None other," Cordelia hissed, arms crossed as she glared at her friend.
"She's not from the Bronx," Wesley responded. "She's from Boston. And she's hardly a slut, either, Cordelia."
"Okay, your faith in your girlfriend is touching Wesley, really. Especially considering during your own little beige period you shacked up with the Evil Bitch Queen from hell, but I'm just warning you, okay?" Turning, her eyes narrowed into slits, voice lowering an octave in a true threat, "You two touch my fiancé again, I'll will go glowy on BOTH your asses."
Wesley grinned. "Love to have you back, Cordelia. I missed the spit and fire."
The smile she put on for him was bordering on saccharine. "I missed you too, Wesley. Really. Now give me the money so I can kick your ass to the curb."
"Bloody hell, Cordelia. Before you were at least sentimental," Wesley groused, sliding his hand into his pocket and emerging with a leather wallet. "There you are," he said, pulling out a wad of bills. "Seven hundred-"
"Eight hundred."
Catching her eye, he froze. Her eyebrow arched, daring him to contradict. "Of course, Cordelia," he said. "Money is tight when one is no longer working for an evil law firm, you musn't blame one for trying."
She snatched the bills from his hand. "Right. Thanks."
"I'll need a receipt."
"How about I give you a kick in the ass?"
"As lovely as that sounds, I'd prefer the receipt."
"Actually..." Cordelia paused, gaze as hard as steel as she once again held out her hand. "I'll take the wallet, too."
"My wallet?"
"HIS wallet. The one you stole from him?" The arched eyebrow rose even higher, nearly disappearing into her hairline when Wesley gave her an incredulous look. "Let's go!"
There was a moment of silence, and Wesley suddenly chuckled, shaking his head. "Good heavens, Cordelia. I have missed you. All right, here you are." He pulled the wallet out of his back pocket. "Sure you want to marry this one, Cordelia? Not a platinum card in sight!"
"Oh my GOD, shut up."
"Cordelia." Wesley's tone had changed from teasing to firm. "Bethany. Where is she?"
Cordelia froze, back to her friend as her eyes closed, suddenly hitching her breath in. "I'm not sure, yet."
"Cordelia..."
"She's close, Wes. They haven't gotten to her yet." Managing a grim smile for his benefit, she turned, offering a half shrug as she sank into the chair. "But she's got a chance."
"That's hardly enough to go on."
"The pipeline's open," she answered stiffly. "I'm expecting details any second now."
"Well then, that works perfectly. I'm on my way then, to relay that information to Angel." Nodding his head, Wesley stepped back toward the door.
"Wesley- I'd rather you to go to the Police Station and get my fiancé out. Now."
"Cordelia, in this crisis? I gather he's safer where he is. Love to see you." He smiled, nodded, and strode to the door.
"WESLEY!?" Cordelia pushed herself to her feet, starting after him. "Wesley, you pansy-assed lily white ... PANSY!" She was left standing in the middle of the empty Pressroom, eyes closing in disbelief when Wesley disappeared. "Shit."
She was going to kill them. All of them. RIGHT NOW.
Opening her cellphone, Cordelia sighed, slumping into a chair with a tired shift.
"Los Angeles. The Los Angeles Police-"
The world tipped over, and twisted.
Suddenly slammed against the wall, Cordelia tasted blood as her head knocked against the stones. A burst of colors and vivid, bright pain slammed into her temples, as she slumped to the floor.
CRAP.
"What the-"
"Don't move."
Cordelia froze, eyes blinking back tears of pain as she managed to regain some focus to discover the figure pinning her to the wall with an unseen force of awesome power.
Crap.
"Bethany."
--
END CHAPTER