[Disclaimer: I do not own anything Joss created.]
Author's Note:
The less than positive reaction to C/G was expected, but couldn't at least one person comment on the story, instead of one of the pairings? I read stories that aren't anti-Buffy, and I can even read Buffy/Spike [automatic shudder], though only if there's a pairing I do like in the story. So all the people who don't like C/G, can't you read it anyway, because there's still plenty of C/A!!!!
Forewarned is forearmed, so here goes:
In this chapter, there will probably be a distinctly C/G scene. Or a few. (Don't worry, there'll be plenty of C/A fluff to keep y'all happy).
Also, you may note I'm easing up on the BuffyBashing. My (few) fans, do not fear, I still hate Buffy, it's just easier to write if I give in a little. Don't worry, I said easing up, I didn't say getting rid of.
Surprise!
Chapter Five: Giles Gets A Surprise Of His Own
by Adele Elisabeth
Angel rested his head on his wife's shoulder, and shifted underneath the light blankets. "Cordy? You awake?"
"No." She muttered into the pillow. "Sleepin'. Go 'way."
"Cordy..."
"Sleepin'," she repeated insistently. "G'way."
"Wake up, Cordy..."
"Don' wanna."
"Cordelia," Angel whispered urgently, "Vampires!"
She sat bolt upright, stake (from under her pillow) in one hand. Then, looking around, she thumped Angel.
"Oww!"
"Tangle with Queen C, fear her wrath. Even Xander knows that."
"Hey, I resent that."
"Resent away, Sir Broodsalot. Now you know better than to wake me up too early."
"I love you..."
"Now you're just pathetic."
"But you love me anyway."
"Maybe...Giles is looking pretty appealing lately, with that oh-so-sexy accent..."
Giles. Sexy. Sexy. Giles. Not words Angel would commonly associate with each other. He shuddered. "Thank you for that lovely image, Cordy."
"You're welcome. Speaking of accents, how come you don't have one?" she queried, settling back into his arms. "I mean, you are Irish and everything..."
"I suppose it just...went away. All the time I spent in America."
"So, you just mislaid it somewhere on the way to Sunnyhell?"
"Something like that."
"Bi-zarre."
"Amen to that."
Cordelia was lost in one of her favorite fantasies, and so almost didn't notice when Giles walked into the library. She'd been leaning on the bookshelf, chatting with Willow -- well, she had been chatting with Willow, but then Willow had to go to the bathroom, leaving her alone.
Giles had one thought on his mind at present.
Good lord, is a skirt that short really legal? It's damn near indecent exposure!
Cordelia wore a very fetching dark blue sleeveless turtleneck, a short (as Giles mentioned, very short) white skirt, white sandals with bulky heels, and a white cardigan was tied loosely around her waist (purely for show, Cordelia didn't think she'd ever actually worn the thing). "Hi, Giles." She greeted him brightly. Almost...flirty? "Willow was here a second ago, but she had to go to the bathroom--"
Ever tactful, Miss Chase...
"--but I'm sure she'll be back in a minute. Buffy's trying to help Xander out of a tree."
"...tree? Do I want to know?" Giles asked, pretty sure he didn't.
Cordelia thought about it. "Somehow, I'm thinking no."
"Ah. I won't ask."
"Good idea." Cordelia fell silent. She looked thoughtful, though, and Giles found himself wondering what it was she was thinking about. It was better than speculating on whether or not her skirt was legal.
Before Giles could think of anything to say, Cordelia was speaking again. "Thanks for...y'know, talking to me and being a help when Cordy and the other Angel weren't here and I had Gen."
Giles looked slightly surprised at her thanks, but he nodded. "You're quite welcome. It was no trouble at all."
"Well, thanks anyhow. It meant a lot."
Was it just him, or was Cordelia giving him That Look? The look she used to have when she looked at Xander, once upon a time, when she thought nobody was looking at her. "Cordelia?"
"Mmmm?" she snapped out of whatever daze it was she had been in.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" Cordelia asked, guiltily. Damn. She didn't mean to, honest...
"Like..." Giles hesitated. How was he supposed to put it? 'Well, Cordelia, you were looking at me like you'd like to kiss me senseless and curl up in my arms, possibly in front of a fire place' somehow didn't sound appropriate. 'Like I'm something very precious to you'? Well, it wasn't that much better, but it would have to do. "Like I'm something very precious to you."
Was it just him, or did Cordelia's guilty look increase twofold? And possibly become slightly...defiant?
"So what if I was?"
Of all the things she could have said, that was the last thing Giles had been expecting. Laughter was a possibility. Flat denial, and a convincing one. Or maybe just shock that he could suggest such a thing.
But this?
No, this did not make sense at all. Not in the least.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said, so what if I was? Maybe you are precious to me." Cordelia was dimly aware of alarm bells going off in her head, sirens shrieking and the sort of hubbub you got from a really big, pissed off natural disaster (such as Buffy, minus the really big part).
"I...I...I...you..." Giles spluttered, backing into a table.
"Careful," Cordelia scolded. "Demons want to hurt you and stuff. Don't need you hurting yourself."
Definitely the same old Cordelia Chase. No! Can't be same old Cordelia. She's got to be...possessed. Yes. That's right. Possessed.
Funny how sometimes even your thoughts sounded like pathetic lies one made up to make oneself feel more at ease with the situation.
"You can't possibly mean that." He managed finally. "It's just..."
"Improper?" Cordelia suggested. "I'm not saying I want to have sex with you in the middle of the library. That? That would be 'improper'."
"What exactly are you saying?" No, don't ask that! Oh god, too late...
"I'm saying that...well, I know I can't claim to be one of your close friends, or anything, but I'd really like a chance to get to know you better." A lot better, she thought, but didn't say it.
"Cordelia you are--"
"Old enough to make my own decisions. Hell, my father's colleagues hit on me all the time. In front of their wives, no less. And if Daddy's little girl sleeping with someone will get him ahead, why the hell not?" she sounded a bit bitter about that. She'd never agreed to it, of course, much to her father's disappointment. "So it's not like my father would have any right to come pounding on your door if you dated me. Please? Just let's try, at least." Sheer willpower was carrying her through this, now. In the past few days, she'd grown closer to both Buffy and Willow, close enough to count them both close friends. Even Xander...anyway, they both knew of her feelings for the Watcher, and Buffy had blurted out, 'At least it's not Angel', which made them all laugh. Point was, both of them thought she should do something, that way at least she'd never look back and wonder 'what if...'
Giles half-sat, half-fell, into a seat. "I need a drink..." He mumbled.
"Please?" Cordelia asked again, and when he didn't answer, she sighed, and went to leave the library.
"Wait,"
Cordelia stopped, and turned, slowly. "Waiting."
"Yes. All right." Giles knew full well how old she was, and what a mistake this could end up being, the mess it could turn into...but somehow, hell, why not? Besides, give her a chance to see what a mistake it is, and then she'll decide for herself that it's a bad idea. Right. That was why he said yes. That's the only reason. One and only.
He ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that was telling him how he'd feel if she changed her mind, and the fact that Cordelia had a smile on her face that suggested all her Christmases had just come.
"Oh. My. God."
That about summed up what the three other girls (women?) were thinking. Not surprisingly, it was said by Cordy.
Buffy and Willow nodded the afirmative.
"Cordelia Chase and Giles." Buffy looked awed. "My Giles. Dating Cordelia Chase."
"My Giles." Cordelia corrected. "Soon to be, anyway."
"Yeah..." Buffy nodded, after a pause.
"This is slightly bizarre for me," Cordy put in, "But oddly enough, I find myself happy for...myself."
That broke the tension, and they all laughed.
"Are you going anywhere special?" Willow asked, interested. Can you really blame her?
"No, no place special. We're just going to have dinner at his apartment, and see what happens. Which reminds me, Buffy? You're not knocking on that door for anything short of the apocalypse, or a life or death situation. Ya got me?"
"To quote Xander, aye, aye, Cap'n Cordy." Buffy grinned.
"Great." Cordelia relaxed. They were in Cordelia's room, and it was late. Buffy had been patrolling, and they'd all come back to Cordelia's for cocoa and girly time. Seated in a circle, ranging from crosslegged to lounging, resting on knees to resting on tummies.
"Are you sure about this?" Cordy looked at her...other self, and tilted her head. "He is a lot older than you."
"I know. I just want to give this a chance, see if anything might be able to come of it." Cordelia shrugged helplessly.
"Okay." Cordy smiled, in as reassuring a manner as she could. "I just wanted to be sure you were sure."
"What're you going to wear?"
"Buffy, asking me about fashion. Not entirely surprising."
"Hey!"
"Sorry. Force of habit."
"Okay, okay. But still. What're you going to wear?"
"Something simple. Nothing too dressy. It's just a quiet evening in, after all. I've got this black sleeveless turtleneck, and some baggy silky grey trousers I was thinking about wearing. And with my hair just out."
"Sounds really nice." Willow put in, shyly. Cordelia had completely revamped Willow's wardrobe when she took her shopping, going so far as to help Willow go through her clothes and throw out anything that just didn't work. Now, Willow was no fashion expert, but Cordelia was helping her out, and she gave everything a bit of a...twist, that made it uniquely Wills. So Cordelia valued her opinion.
"I think so." Cordelia nodded, glad they'd come back to her place. She'd been half-afraid they'd turn down the offer. The moral support, that little boost...she'd never gotten that before, from anyone. She hadn't been their friend that long, but she'd been sort of...drawn into the circle. She was one of them, now, and they looked out for their own, they really cared. It was new, and it was nice.
Queen C had crossed over to the Dork Side.
And she found she rather liked it there.
Angel and Angel stood facing each other. They looked identical, perfectly.
Except...
AlternateAngel had a more relaxed posture, and his general air was one of calm, abiding wellness. Someone dependable. Someone trustworthy. Someone you just knew was in love, just by the way he smiled just at his thoughts, and you could tell by that very smile that he was thinking about his lady love.
But Angel of this reality?
He looked tensed, coiled like a spring, permanently in fight-or-flight-mode. Maybe he was in love, but it didn't show. All anyone passing by could see was that he was a tall, dark, mysterious stranger, the sort you didn't want to get tangled up with, because he had this...aura, about him...of...it was hard to describe.
Needless to say, it was very easy to tell them apart, if you knew them.
"You're not my future after all?" Angel sounded...a mixture of things. Disappointed, perhaps. This raised his double's eyebrow. He hadn't gotten the impression his other self was all for life with Cordelia Chase.
"No, it seems not. I'm a possible future. I'm changing things just by being here, and Cordelia was already, as my Cordy so delightfully puts it, 'hot for Tweed-Man', which suggests things have already changed here. Why? You sound almost disappointed."
"'Hot for Tweed-Man'?" Angel echoed.
"Cordy puts an interesting spin on things. And you're evading the question. Don't underestimate yourself. I know me better than that."
Angel couldn't help but be vaguely amused by the other him's turn of phrase. "Well...you and Cordy, you're so happy. So...settled. A family. You can be on opposite sides of the room, not even looking at each other, but there's this...connection. You belong together. Anyone around you can feel it." He shifted uncomfortably. "You seem so intimate at times it's a bit embarrassing to be around you. Get the feeling I'm intruding on something really personal. You've got a great thing going on, aren't I allowed to be a bit disappointed I don't get that?"
"What about Buffy?"
"We both know that can't work out. Vampire, slayer? I love her, with all my soul, I love her, but..."
"You're a vampire, and she's the Slayer."
"Yeah."
"Know the feeling. Intimately, as it were."
They laughed, and a little of the tension slipped away.
"Cordelia's off on her date with Giles." Angel told his not-his-future-self.
"How do you know?"
Angel looked sheepish.
"You went Stalker-Mode, didn't you?" Angel's eyes danced with merriment. Stalker-Mode was Cordy-Speak for what he did when he was worried about her and didn't want her to know he was following (at a safe distance).
Angel had been around Cordy for just long enough to start to translate some Cordy-Speak himself. "Yeah, I did."
"Why'd you do that?"
"I love Buffy, but Cordelia's my friend now. I was watching out for her. Turned out I didn't need to. Bumped into Buffy -- doing the exact same thing."
"Really? Will wonders never cease?"
"Looks like."
The two men (one souled vampire and one ex-vampire) grinned at each other, and even more of that oh-so-annoying tension slip-slid away...
Dinner was nice. They had simple pasta and salad, Cordelia on salad-duty and Giles making the pasta. He helped her make the salad, giving her tips and occasionally looking over when she asked him a question. He always managed to brush against her when he did, which she was only half-sure was by accident, but was she complaining? Hell, no.
Anyway, it was now about nine o'clock, and they were in the living room, with a half-empty bottle of red wine (courtesy of Kathryn Chase's private stash).
"I don't hate to say it, so, I told you so." Cordelia smiled lazily at Giles. She lounged on his sofa, he sat comfortably at the other end, but her now-bare feet were resting against his leg. He didn't seem to mind.
"So you did." Giles smiled back at the beautiful young woman on his sofa. Beautiful young woman who was very much interested in him. That in itself was somewhat shocking. "I bow to your superior wit."
"As you should." She lifted her glass. "To the future."
Now, in any normal situation, future-talk would be far too early, and Giles would be edging to the other end of the sofa. But, all things considered, it was a very apt toast. "To the future."
Their glasses clinked together, and they both drank.
"So, Tweed-Man, are we officially seeing each other, or are we in the tentative baby-steps let's-just-see-how-the-next-date-goes stage?"
"I'd be more likely to answer if you promise not to call me Tweed-Man anymore."
"I promise. But we've got to get you into regular people clothing. And what's with all the shirts buttoned up all the way? Leave at least the top button undone, pretty please? And don't think I didn't notice that whole question-evade-y thing you've got going on."
"Curses, foiled again."
"That was so a cartoon line, Rupert." Sometime during the night, Giles had asked her to call him Rupert. After all, not many women called their date by his last name. He found he rather liked the way she said it.
"Maybe it was." Giles smirked. "I'm not completely unscathed when it comes to those awful creations."
"You're so cute when you're being all pompous and British."
"Hey!"
"What?" her eyes widened with completely feigned innocence. "Something I said?"
"Nevermind." Giles chuckled.
"So, going to answer my question?"
"I was hoping you'd forgotten it."
"No such luck."
"All right...yes, I would like for us to be...seeing each other." There was a little hesitation to begin with, but all this evening had proved was that they suited each other, oddly enough. Opposites attract and all that. They...fit.
"In that case," and in one smooth movement Cordelia was very nearly in Giles lap and was very definitely kissing him.
It might fall apart, create yet another mess to deal with, be nothing but trouble...
But for the moment, all Giles was thinking about was the beautiful young woman in his arms.
Cordelia.
His Cordelia.
"Cordy," Angel called, walking into their bedroom. "Where're you?"
"Bathroom. Bubble-spa-bath. Very nice." Cordy called back, from the bathroom, and Angel heard the tell-tale noises of water moving and splashes. "Finished with Genevieve's bedtime story?"
"Yes," he walked over to stand in the doorway, watching her. "I got the impression she'd rather hear Daniel's version. Must have been bonding, all that time they're spending together."
"Seen the way his eyes light up when she calls him Grandpa? It's so sweet." Cordy stretched languidly. "Daniel never had any children of his own, but I was like his little girl. I have some great memories because of my Daniel. Now Genevieve can have some, too. And he gets a granddaughter in the bargain."
"What happens to Daniel?" Angel asked, suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"I've never met him, you've never talked about him. But you clearly love him a lot. So I figure something must have happened."
"Fair enough, and right, too. He died a few days before I decided to go to L.A. I was practically heart-broken, I think Mom was just glad it meant she didn't have to fire him. Daniel was one of the few people who was genuinely nice to my mother, no motive, just because that's the way he was. Is. Whatever. Mom was fond of him, anyway."
"I'm sorry to hear you lost him like that."
"Didn't even stay for the funeral, typical me, huh? I didn't want to remember Daniel in a box in the ground, though. I didn't see him after he died, and I left the house before. Last I saw him, he looked fine, healthy, and happy. He gave me a present, a plain silver band with QC ingraved on it." She held up her right hand, and sure enough, there it was. Angel vaguely remembered that it was that ring she never really took off, like her wedding ring. "It's kind of like I carry him around everywhere I go. It's comforting."
"I can only imagine."
Genevieve was sleeping. Daniel brushed a stray strand of the little girl's hair back off her face, and smiled. It was the sort of smile you saw when a grandfather looked down at his favorite grandchild. Not that any grandfather would be prepared to admit he had a favorite grandchild, but there you go.
He walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He could hear Cordelia coming in the door, talking on her cellphone and giggling. He decided to go down and meet her. Perhaps she'd like some cocoa before she retired.
In the darkened room, Genevieve smiled. Things were as they should be, in an odd sort of a way, and she whole-heartedly agreed with them.
***
Author's Note:
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Giles and Cordelia moved way too fast, yada, yada, yada. Think about it -- they live on the Hellmouth? Long courtships just mean more of a chance you'll die before anything happens. And Cordelia's an impulsive girl.
I know I'm pretty sure I said that Angel, Cordy, and Genevieve would be going home in this chapter, but it turns out random plot bunnies interrupted my plans and swerved towards some C/G lovin'. And some C/A lovin'. And mention of B/A lovin'. A whole lot of lovin', anyway.
Cordy: Could have been worse.
Wesley: I'm just glad I'm not in this story. It's getting truly bizarre.
Faith: No argument with you there, Wes.
Angel: [sulking over the idea of His Cordelia with anyone other than Him]
All: Get -over- yourself, Angel.
Giles: [edges away from Angel]
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