Disclaimers: Angel belongs to the WB and Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt & co. As this story is based on the classic movie 'Casablanca', I'll write a disclaimer that it doesn't belong to me either, but to the WB.
Rating: PG-13 (for language, violence) and definitely A/C.
Spoilers: Takes place after the Angel Season 3 ending cliffhanger.
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Part III
G.
"Don't you dare think that you can make me feel guilty for what you've become."
Angel stared at the beautiful woman who uttered those words to him. She had never been one to mince words, especially when she had a point to get across. Always a force to be reckoned with, never to be taken lightly, but rarely did she seem truly angry. Except now. Judging from the eyebrows that practically disappeared into her hair, the thin line that her lips were making, and the pale white sheen that covered her face, she was absolutely livid.
Never had she been more riveting.
He forced his eyes to stay drained of all feeling. This was what he wanted, to put her through the roller-coaster of emotions just so she could get a taste of what he had experienced the last twelve months. After all, he knew her so well, and he knew exactly which buttons to push to get her to do something for him, as well as how to get her upset. Despite the fact that a year had passed since they last met and that they had both changed, he still knew how to get to her.
Just like she could get to him, if he let her.
In the deepest, logical part of his mind, he realized it wasn't fair to her, but he couldn't let her trample all over his feelings anymore. She left him, period. She broke her vow to him, something he never would have imagined happening. He expected himself to be the one to mess things up between them, not her. So really, she no longer had a right to factor into his feelings.
So where did that leave his feelings exactly?
Scattered to the wind.
With a horribly acrid taste in his mouth.
He smirked, desperately holding onto the bitterness that defined him now. "I think I already have. You wouldn't be this angry if you didn't feel just a tiny bit responsible."
"Is that why you came here to find me?" she questioned, her voice rising in tone.
He didn't answer her. His mind churned furiously with turmoil. His head was telling him that he no longer felt the pain, but his chest was saying something else. Why couldn't he just numb all feeling? Why couldn't he stop every fibre in his being from screaming in her presence?
At his silence, she immediately realized that she had struck a chord in him.
"Or maybe it's because you still care for me after all," she said slowly. Shit. She really did know him too well.
He turned away, not letting her see the barrage of emotions that would be betrayed on his face. As if mocking him, strains of a piano playing 'As Time Goes By' could be heard coming from the general direction of Casablanca.
"The Powers That Be left me no choice." she began explaining earnestly. "Skip came to me as I was driving to meet you on that Point. He said the Powers That Be were giving me another test, telling me that I had another purpose, another use for my demon powers." She wrung her hands. "I'm supposed to be a champion now, just like you. If you had been faced with this choice, you would have chosen exactly the same thing. I KNOW you."
"You used to." He corrected her. "Not anymore."
"Apparently not." she said, her tone pained. "The Angel I know would have wondered what I had been doing all this time. The Angel I know would have found out that I've been learning to protect others, not just myself. That I've been helping other demons and witches, watchers, vampire slayers," her voice became unsteady as she stumbled over the last few words. He noted the inflection on those last two words. "...and everyone who associates with them."
Angel turned back to gaze at her, desperately trying to hold onto his anger and hurt as he watched her continue, emotionally. His facade was slipping. Damn piano music.
"The Angel I know would realize by now that I'm trying my best to prevent a war from starting, one that could begin an apocalypse." she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. "I guess you've made it quite clear that you're not MY Angel anymore."
Angel stood helplessly for a split second, torn between staying angry and broken or melting at her feet.
As a tear rolled down one porcelein cheek and she whirled around quickly to prevent him from seeing it, that carefully hardened wall around his chest crumbled. The next instant, she was wrapped in his arms, her head on his chest, his hands tangled in her hair.
"Shhh..." he soothed, burying his face in her hair. "It'll be alright."
"But it's not," she cried in despair, her voice muffled in his shirt. "I honestly never expected that I'd be the one to leave first. I thought I was keeping the visions for you. When Skip said I could be demonized, I thought that meant I'd be with you for the rest of my life."
His mind registered what she just admitted. "The rest of your life? You were willing to be with me for that long?" he asked, stunned.
"Yeah," she confessed sheepishly. "To think that I was so dense about my feelings for you. Even back then, I would have laid my life down for you, the mission, for your redemption." Her hazel eyes became tinged with regret. "All that time I never once admitted how I felt. Not to you, not to myself."
Angel's brain was still reeling from her earlier confession. "Your feelings," he repeated. Comprehension was pushing through the fog in his head. He tightened his arms around her. "You wanted to know how I felt about you." He looked at her tear-stained face and tipped her chin up towards him with one hand. "We never got to discuss that, did we?"
"No, we didn't." she whispered. "Every minute of every day in this past year, I've been desperately wanting to find out. Wishing that we could have had just two minutes together. Wondering if that would have changed everything."
"It would have," he said, now whispering too.
"Why?" she asked. He heard her heart skip a beat, and then start pounding furiously. "What would you have told me?"
"That I loved you." he told her honestly. He placed her hand on his heart. "That I have been in love with you... for so long that I don't know when it started."
Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now. "If I'd only known," Cordelia said, burrowing her face in his chest, inhaling his earthy scent. "What I would have done differently."
"As would I," Angel told her, his eyes full of regret as well.
They stood there in silence under the wanton moon and surrounded by breathtaking sights and smells, so close together that they would have been mistaken for one beautiful statue. Through the calm and quiet came the crystal clear melodies of sweet songs from a bygone era.
"I still have a job to do." she told him, lifting her head so that he could gaze into those wondrously hazel windows into her soul. "I have to finish this. Too much would be at stake if I didn't."
"The end of the world," he growled, but it was a sad one. "Why did this have to happen to us?"
"Please don't make this any harder --"
"Harder?" he shook her gently in disbelief. "How can this get any harder?"
"It's just bad timing." she sniffed.
He kissed her eyes passionately, tasting the salt of her tears. "Cordy, you walk into my life and for so long, I never realized that you were what I've been missing for the last 250 years. When you forgave me two years ago, it was like the skies had opened up for me. Being with you is like a lovely dream that has swept over me, one that I never want to wake from." She closed her eyes to stop the tears from streaming down as she listened to his words. "It was hard enough coming to terms with losing you. Thinking that I'd driven you away somehow. Now that I know the truth, now that you're here, in MY arms, how can I just let you go? How can I let you leave, knowing that I may never see you again?"
"You have to." She placed her hand on his face, stroking it tenderly. "For the chance that we might be together again, you must."
She kissed him then, a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes, reveling in the memory of the exact moment.
"But I don't have to let you go just yet," he told her, grasping her fingers tightly and kissing her knuckles lightly.
Through her heartbreak and tears, she laughed delightedly. It was so hard to believe that she had been painfully out of reach just an hour ago. "I am going to be around for a bit," she agreed softly. "Until I solve this murder that hasn't been committed yet."
There were a lot of reasons why he walked away from being a warrior, from the Powers That Be. But those reasons flew out his head when he was around Cordy. Why, he couldn't explain, but if she was going to be all heroic, he'd be damned if he wasn't all heroic for her too.
Angel sighed. "I guess this means that we're on the job again."
"We?"
He shrugged. "I guess I could always do one last case. For old times." he said, his eyes twinkling at her, pushing the complications of an uncertain tomorrow, next week, and rest of their lives out of his brooding mind. He would deal with it then. Crooking his arm at her, he offered, "Shall we?"
She gazed at him with admiration. "You never cease to amaze me."
"That's my line." he told her affectionately as they followed the trail of love songs back to Casablanca.
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H.
It was the middle of the night and the young expressionless man in The Blue Parrot was waiting patiently. He was alone, having sent his guards and the red-haired woman away, and was propped up in a chair that was tipped over slightly, its back leaning precariously against the wall. Although he appeared to be dozing off, his senses were still on full alert.
As was proven when a small shuffle got his attention. A small, nondescript blue demon poked his head in through the doorway. Surveying the scene before him, he peered into the dark corners of the large room. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he entered the saloon.
Immediately, he found himself pinned to a wall, a knife at his throat.
"I'm one of you! It's Etragu!" the demon protested, his voice high and strangled. His attacker loosened his grip on him and fell back into the shadows.
"Did you complete your task?" the young man questioned him.
"Yes," the demon replied smugly. "Nothing to it. Those demons are so naive."
"Will she get the message?" the man cut in curtly.
"Of course. That bartender has no idea who left the note. Like I said, those demons are naive."
"And you're one of THEM." the man reminded the demon coldly. "Your loyalties are a little questionable."
"I prefer to think that I'm one of the winners. That's who I'm one of."
"Every which way the wind blows," the mysterious man sneered.
The demon squinted into the darkness, his eyes getting adjusted to the poor light from the moon. He made out the features of the man. He was slight, with dark, messy hair and he noted with surprise how youthful his passive face was. It was a pensive face, private, but one that would inspire trust.
Except for his eyes.
They were so cold and empty.
The demon shivered slightly. "You should be pleased. I did my job."
"I'll be pleased when I've done mine." the man replied. He picked up a dagger from his boot and twirled it with ease.
"You'll get your chance." the demon encouraged nervously. "This will be good for the Resistance."
A tiny smile appeared on the young man's face.
The demon swallowed hard. "About my payment --"
"Yes," the man said, a gleaming flicker in his eyes. "You will be handsomely paid. But first, I want you to visit someplace. There's someone who'd very much like to meet you."
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I.
"Well, aren't you two a sight for sore eyes?" Lorne exclaimed, noting Angel and Cordelia walking in hand-in-hand, shoulders glued to each other.
Angel smiled, his whole face lighting up so much that Lorne couldn't associate this new attitude with the vampire from earlier.
Cordelia beamed happily. "We're living in the moment right now," she told the bartender cautiously.
"So, what'll it be?" Lorne asked.
"Not for me, thanks." Angel replied, gazing at Cordelia in adoration. Lorne couldn't get over the ease with which the two of them were interacting with each other. It was as if the last year hadn't happened.
And it added that romantic 'something more' to his place, he noted with satisfaction.
"Me neither," Cordelia piped in. "We're on a case," she informed the Host, grinning widely. "Together."
"Well, isn't that cozy." the green demon remarked, winking at Angel. He turned back to the radiant brunette. "Trust it to you to get him out of his shell."
"Only for this one." Angel warned.
"Sure." Lorne said knowingly, glancing at Cordelia. All of a sudden, he snapped his fingers. "There's a message for you, Princess." he said, retrieving a small, sealed envelope.
"Who's it from?" Angel asked curiously.
"Haven't the vaguest idea, Angel-pie. Found this on the counter addressed to her earlier after you left." Lorne answered as Cordelia opened the envelope and produced a tiny note.
"We really should get to discussing new names for me." Angel commented mildly.
"What, don't like pet names? Angel-sweetie?" Cordelia teased lightly, leaning into him, having read the note in her hand.
"Only if they come from your lips." Angel growled tenderly, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her in closer to him.
Lorne couldn't help grinning like a maniac. "Hey, hey, hey," he said in mock protest. "This is a family establishment."
Cordelia snickered. "We're just livening it up a bit. Promise, we'll keep this PG-13."
"Honey," Lorne leered at her, "When you're around, it couldn't possibly be rated that low."
"I'm standing right here." Angel snarled good-naturedly.
Lorne cackled and slapped his arm in comraderie. Angel pulled Cordelia into his arms anyway.
Cordelia shook her head at HER vampire's territorial response. "This is going to be so hard now, focusing on the job," she said, nudging the vampire. "You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."
"Sorry," the vampire mumbled. The last thing he wanted was to give the Powers That Be a reason to take her away again without notice before spending quality time with her. "What does the note say?"
"It's for a meeting," she answered, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "There's no signature."
"Where do we go?"
"Not you," she said to him. "The note said to come alone."
"I don't like the sound of this. Why a secret rendez-vous?" Angel asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Oh, are you worried?" Cordelia smiled so widely that Angel couldn't help smiling just as widely back.
"It's probably Skip with another lead," she told him. "We probably scared him away earlier in the gardens - he's not exactly the mushy type. And, he'd rather walk on hot coals than step foot in here to get me." She glanced at Lorne. "No offense. Can't imagine him to be the saloon-goer type either."
"None taken," Lorne waved dismissively.
"But you're coming back to me, right? We're going to get through this together." Angel said, still concerned.
"Of course," she laughed, kissing the tip of Angel's nose affectionately. "I'll come straight back. And if I meet with any resistance whatsoever, I'll be sure to fight to the death."
"I'll be waiting," he grinned, mezmerized by how sensitized his nose felt.
"Sounds like all's well between you two again." Lorne remarked as he and Angel watched Cordelia float out of Casablanca. "I take it you finally kissed and made up."
Angel smirked at the Host's nosiness. "Something like that."
"I knew you were a sentimentalist," Lorne exclaimed triumphantly. "But I never would have taken you for a romantic. You usually botch these things up." Lorne commented slyly.
A goofy grin appeared on the vampire's face. "When you've got someone like Cordelia looking at you like you're romantic, you become it."
"This is priceless. I'm really happy for you." Lorne told him sincerely. "But you're not, right?" he asked cautiously. "I'm your staunchest supporter and all, but we can't forget--."
Angel's grin slid off his face. "I haven't forgotten either. No, I'm not too happy," he said, his eyes troubled. "Not when I know that she'll have to leave me again."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know, Lorne" Angel told him honestly. "I just want to grab her and take her somewhere far away, just the two of us. Away from all the craziness that's around us, and most of all, away from ourselves."
Lorne patted the vampire's arm in sympathy.
"For now, we're taking it minute by minute." Angel declared grimly. "We'll deal with it when the time comes."
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J.
Cordelia crept through an abandoned back alleyway, the note still in her hand. Looking around furtively, she wasn't detecting any signs of life or movement. It was very dark and quiet, so much so that the only sounds heard came from her heels echoing on the pavement.
"I really have to get that demon to find better meeting places," she grumbled, beginning to tiptoe around to quiet her shoes. She stopped, realizing how incredibly silly she was being. Her head held high, she defiantly tapped forward, ignoring the tingle in her fingers and toes.
Nearing the back of the alley, she hopped straight up when a loud bang sounded. Stilling immediately, her eyes wide and alert, she didn't relax until only the silence surrounded her again. She let out a breath of air.
"You've been in worse situations by yourself before," she told herself. "This is going to be a walk in the park."
But the dark shadows lining the walls surrounding her lengthened and shortened ominously even though no one was around her. She listened intently on the sounds of her heels clicking, clicking, clicking as she hesitantly proceeded towards the shadows.
A sudden screech filled the air and startled her so much, she jumped up again and let out a scream. When she saw a cat slink away into the darkness, she let out another sigh of relief and mentally berated her rattled nerves.
"Trust it to Skip to find the darkest, creepiest alley," she said in her usual tone of voice, trying to assure herself. But, there was a question of doubt floating through her mind as she saw a shadow turn a corner swiftly.
She couldn't hold back a jittery shake that went through her entire body.
A chill began to travel up her spine.
"Cordelia." She heard her name whispered.
"Skip?" she asked, following the direction of the whisper. "Is that you?" As she rounded a corner, she found herself facing a brick wall. "Well, isn't this a cliché horror scene?" she laughed to herself nervously.
Suddenly, she was flashed with a vision, an extraordinarily graphic one, as she saw a woman in white bleeding to death in an alleyway, a hunting knife lying not two feet away from her.
She gasped in terror as she realized why it all looked so familiar.
Oh god, it was a vision of HER in THIS alleyway.
She turned to run then, as her ears detected a shuffle behind her. Only it was too late, she realized, as she felt something slam against her, causing her to tumble to the ground. She threw her hands up defensively, laughing inwardly as time ticked at an agonizingly slow speed.
What a great irony. All this time spent wondering who the victim would be, trying to figure out who to protect.
And what terrible timing. To be back with Angel, maybe not permanently, but at least for a little while. Finally in love and truly happy, only to have it ripped away so cruelly.
She fought back a sob as she felt the icy, unforgiving chill of metal piercing her flesh, plunging into her chest. Her hand flew to the gaping wound as the knife was pulled out, a sickeningly moist sound coming from her body.
She gazed up at her attacker and killer dazedly, and was both surprised and horrified at the youthful face staring back at her.
Oh, GOD, she KNEW HIM.
Those baby blue eyes now brown, that mussed up hair she had once ruffled tenderly, the beautiful, cherubic cheeks that she kissed, a little more than a year ago. She recognized it all.
And the stance that reminded her of someone else she loved.
"Why?" she cried to him weakly. "How could you do this?"
He didn't answer as he stood over her, his grip tightly wrapped around the knife's handle. Her warm blood gushed freely out of the open wound, her life force rapidly draining from her as she stared up at the boy she never stopped loving, afraid for him and for the vampire who would never forgive.
Most of all, afraid for the end of the future.
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Last update: July 1, 2002
Rating: PG-13 (for language, violence) and definitely A/C.
Spoilers: Takes place after the Angel Season 3 ending cliffhanger.
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Part III
G.
"Don't you dare think that you can make me feel guilty for what you've become."
Angel stared at the beautiful woman who uttered those words to him. She had never been one to mince words, especially when she had a point to get across. Always a force to be reckoned with, never to be taken lightly, but rarely did she seem truly angry. Except now. Judging from the eyebrows that practically disappeared into her hair, the thin line that her lips were making, and the pale white sheen that covered her face, she was absolutely livid.
Never had she been more riveting.
He forced his eyes to stay drained of all feeling. This was what he wanted, to put her through the roller-coaster of emotions just so she could get a taste of what he had experienced the last twelve months. After all, he knew her so well, and he knew exactly which buttons to push to get her to do something for him, as well as how to get her upset. Despite the fact that a year had passed since they last met and that they had both changed, he still knew how to get to her.
Just like she could get to him, if he let her.
In the deepest, logical part of his mind, he realized it wasn't fair to her, but he couldn't let her trample all over his feelings anymore. She left him, period. She broke her vow to him, something he never would have imagined happening. He expected himself to be the one to mess things up between them, not her. So really, she no longer had a right to factor into his feelings.
So where did that leave his feelings exactly?
Scattered to the wind.
With a horribly acrid taste in his mouth.
He smirked, desperately holding onto the bitterness that defined him now. "I think I already have. You wouldn't be this angry if you didn't feel just a tiny bit responsible."
"Is that why you came here to find me?" she questioned, her voice rising in tone.
He didn't answer her. His mind churned furiously with turmoil. His head was telling him that he no longer felt the pain, but his chest was saying something else. Why couldn't he just numb all feeling? Why couldn't he stop every fibre in his being from screaming in her presence?
At his silence, she immediately realized that she had struck a chord in him.
"Or maybe it's because you still care for me after all," she said slowly. Shit. She really did know him too well.
He turned away, not letting her see the barrage of emotions that would be betrayed on his face. As if mocking him, strains of a piano playing 'As Time Goes By' could be heard coming from the general direction of Casablanca.
"The Powers That Be left me no choice." she began explaining earnestly. "Skip came to me as I was driving to meet you on that Point. He said the Powers That Be were giving me another test, telling me that I had another purpose, another use for my demon powers." She wrung her hands. "I'm supposed to be a champion now, just like you. If you had been faced with this choice, you would have chosen exactly the same thing. I KNOW you."
"You used to." He corrected her. "Not anymore."
"Apparently not." she said, her tone pained. "The Angel I know would have wondered what I had been doing all this time. The Angel I know would have found out that I've been learning to protect others, not just myself. That I've been helping other demons and witches, watchers, vampire slayers," her voice became unsteady as she stumbled over the last few words. He noted the inflection on those last two words. "...and everyone who associates with them."
Angel turned back to gaze at her, desperately trying to hold onto his anger and hurt as he watched her continue, emotionally. His facade was slipping. Damn piano music.
"The Angel I know would realize by now that I'm trying my best to prevent a war from starting, one that could begin an apocalypse." she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. "I guess you've made it quite clear that you're not MY Angel anymore."
Angel stood helplessly for a split second, torn between staying angry and broken or melting at her feet.
As a tear rolled down one porcelein cheek and she whirled around quickly to prevent him from seeing it, that carefully hardened wall around his chest crumbled. The next instant, she was wrapped in his arms, her head on his chest, his hands tangled in her hair.
"Shhh..." he soothed, burying his face in her hair. "It'll be alright."
"But it's not," she cried in despair, her voice muffled in his shirt. "I honestly never expected that I'd be the one to leave first. I thought I was keeping the visions for you. When Skip said I could be demonized, I thought that meant I'd be with you for the rest of my life."
His mind registered what she just admitted. "The rest of your life? You were willing to be with me for that long?" he asked, stunned.
"Yeah," she confessed sheepishly. "To think that I was so dense about my feelings for you. Even back then, I would have laid my life down for you, the mission, for your redemption." Her hazel eyes became tinged with regret. "All that time I never once admitted how I felt. Not to you, not to myself."
Angel's brain was still reeling from her earlier confession. "Your feelings," he repeated. Comprehension was pushing through the fog in his head. He tightened his arms around her. "You wanted to know how I felt about you." He looked at her tear-stained face and tipped her chin up towards him with one hand. "We never got to discuss that, did we?"
"No, we didn't." she whispered. "Every minute of every day in this past year, I've been desperately wanting to find out. Wishing that we could have had just two minutes together. Wondering if that would have changed everything."
"It would have," he said, now whispering too.
"Why?" she asked. He heard her heart skip a beat, and then start pounding furiously. "What would you have told me?"
"That I loved you." he told her honestly. He placed her hand on his heart. "That I have been in love with you... for so long that I don't know when it started."
Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now. "If I'd only known," Cordelia said, burrowing her face in his chest, inhaling his earthy scent. "What I would have done differently."
"As would I," Angel told her, his eyes full of regret as well.
They stood there in silence under the wanton moon and surrounded by breathtaking sights and smells, so close together that they would have been mistaken for one beautiful statue. Through the calm and quiet came the crystal clear melodies of sweet songs from a bygone era.
"I still have a job to do." she told him, lifting her head so that he could gaze into those wondrously hazel windows into her soul. "I have to finish this. Too much would be at stake if I didn't."
"The end of the world," he growled, but it was a sad one. "Why did this have to happen to us?"
"Please don't make this any harder --"
"Harder?" he shook her gently in disbelief. "How can this get any harder?"
"It's just bad timing." she sniffed.
He kissed her eyes passionately, tasting the salt of her tears. "Cordy, you walk into my life and for so long, I never realized that you were what I've been missing for the last 250 years. When you forgave me two years ago, it was like the skies had opened up for me. Being with you is like a lovely dream that has swept over me, one that I never want to wake from." She closed her eyes to stop the tears from streaming down as she listened to his words. "It was hard enough coming to terms with losing you. Thinking that I'd driven you away somehow. Now that I know the truth, now that you're here, in MY arms, how can I just let you go? How can I let you leave, knowing that I may never see you again?"
"You have to." She placed her hand on his face, stroking it tenderly. "For the chance that we might be together again, you must."
She kissed him then, a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes, reveling in the memory of the exact moment.
"But I don't have to let you go just yet," he told her, grasping her fingers tightly and kissing her knuckles lightly.
Through her heartbreak and tears, she laughed delightedly. It was so hard to believe that she had been painfully out of reach just an hour ago. "I am going to be around for a bit," she agreed softly. "Until I solve this murder that hasn't been committed yet."
There were a lot of reasons why he walked away from being a warrior, from the Powers That Be. But those reasons flew out his head when he was around Cordy. Why, he couldn't explain, but if she was going to be all heroic, he'd be damned if he wasn't all heroic for her too.
Angel sighed. "I guess this means that we're on the job again."
"We?"
He shrugged. "I guess I could always do one last case. For old times." he said, his eyes twinkling at her, pushing the complications of an uncertain tomorrow, next week, and rest of their lives out of his brooding mind. He would deal with it then. Crooking his arm at her, he offered, "Shall we?"
She gazed at him with admiration. "You never cease to amaze me."
"That's my line." he told her affectionately as they followed the trail of love songs back to Casablanca.
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H.
It was the middle of the night and the young expressionless man in The Blue Parrot was waiting patiently. He was alone, having sent his guards and the red-haired woman away, and was propped up in a chair that was tipped over slightly, its back leaning precariously against the wall. Although he appeared to be dozing off, his senses were still on full alert.
As was proven when a small shuffle got his attention. A small, nondescript blue demon poked his head in through the doorway. Surveying the scene before him, he peered into the dark corners of the large room. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he entered the saloon.
Immediately, he found himself pinned to a wall, a knife at his throat.
"I'm one of you! It's Etragu!" the demon protested, his voice high and strangled. His attacker loosened his grip on him and fell back into the shadows.
"Did you complete your task?" the young man questioned him.
"Yes," the demon replied smugly. "Nothing to it. Those demons are so naive."
"Will she get the message?" the man cut in curtly.
"Of course. That bartender has no idea who left the note. Like I said, those demons are naive."
"And you're one of THEM." the man reminded the demon coldly. "Your loyalties are a little questionable."
"I prefer to think that I'm one of the winners. That's who I'm one of."
"Every which way the wind blows," the mysterious man sneered.
The demon squinted into the darkness, his eyes getting adjusted to the poor light from the moon. He made out the features of the man. He was slight, with dark, messy hair and he noted with surprise how youthful his passive face was. It was a pensive face, private, but one that would inspire trust.
Except for his eyes.
They were so cold and empty.
The demon shivered slightly. "You should be pleased. I did my job."
"I'll be pleased when I've done mine." the man replied. He picked up a dagger from his boot and twirled it with ease.
"You'll get your chance." the demon encouraged nervously. "This will be good for the Resistance."
A tiny smile appeared on the young man's face.
The demon swallowed hard. "About my payment --"
"Yes," the man said, a gleaming flicker in his eyes. "You will be handsomely paid. But first, I want you to visit someplace. There's someone who'd very much like to meet you."
~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ @ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~
I.
"Well, aren't you two a sight for sore eyes?" Lorne exclaimed, noting Angel and Cordelia walking in hand-in-hand, shoulders glued to each other.
Angel smiled, his whole face lighting up so much that Lorne couldn't associate this new attitude with the vampire from earlier.
Cordelia beamed happily. "We're living in the moment right now," she told the bartender cautiously.
"So, what'll it be?" Lorne asked.
"Not for me, thanks." Angel replied, gazing at Cordelia in adoration. Lorne couldn't get over the ease with which the two of them were interacting with each other. It was as if the last year hadn't happened.
And it added that romantic 'something more' to his place, he noted with satisfaction.
"Me neither," Cordelia piped in. "We're on a case," she informed the Host, grinning widely. "Together."
"Well, isn't that cozy." the green demon remarked, winking at Angel. He turned back to the radiant brunette. "Trust it to you to get him out of his shell."
"Only for this one." Angel warned.
"Sure." Lorne said knowingly, glancing at Cordelia. All of a sudden, he snapped his fingers. "There's a message for you, Princess." he said, retrieving a small, sealed envelope.
"Who's it from?" Angel asked curiously.
"Haven't the vaguest idea, Angel-pie. Found this on the counter addressed to her earlier after you left." Lorne answered as Cordelia opened the envelope and produced a tiny note.
"We really should get to discussing new names for me." Angel commented mildly.
"What, don't like pet names? Angel-sweetie?" Cordelia teased lightly, leaning into him, having read the note in her hand.
"Only if they come from your lips." Angel growled tenderly, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her in closer to him.
Lorne couldn't help grinning like a maniac. "Hey, hey, hey," he said in mock protest. "This is a family establishment."
Cordelia snickered. "We're just livening it up a bit. Promise, we'll keep this PG-13."
"Honey," Lorne leered at her, "When you're around, it couldn't possibly be rated that low."
"I'm standing right here." Angel snarled good-naturedly.
Lorne cackled and slapped his arm in comraderie. Angel pulled Cordelia into his arms anyway.
Cordelia shook her head at HER vampire's territorial response. "This is going to be so hard now, focusing on the job," she said, nudging the vampire. "You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."
"Sorry," the vampire mumbled. The last thing he wanted was to give the Powers That Be a reason to take her away again without notice before spending quality time with her. "What does the note say?"
"It's for a meeting," she answered, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "There's no signature."
"Where do we go?"
"Not you," she said to him. "The note said to come alone."
"I don't like the sound of this. Why a secret rendez-vous?" Angel asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Oh, are you worried?" Cordelia smiled so widely that Angel couldn't help smiling just as widely back.
"It's probably Skip with another lead," she told him. "We probably scared him away earlier in the gardens - he's not exactly the mushy type. And, he'd rather walk on hot coals than step foot in here to get me." She glanced at Lorne. "No offense. Can't imagine him to be the saloon-goer type either."
"None taken," Lorne waved dismissively.
"But you're coming back to me, right? We're going to get through this together." Angel said, still concerned.
"Of course," she laughed, kissing the tip of Angel's nose affectionately. "I'll come straight back. And if I meet with any resistance whatsoever, I'll be sure to fight to the death."
"I'll be waiting," he grinned, mezmerized by how sensitized his nose felt.
"Sounds like all's well between you two again." Lorne remarked as he and Angel watched Cordelia float out of Casablanca. "I take it you finally kissed and made up."
Angel smirked at the Host's nosiness. "Something like that."
"I knew you were a sentimentalist," Lorne exclaimed triumphantly. "But I never would have taken you for a romantic. You usually botch these things up." Lorne commented slyly.
A goofy grin appeared on the vampire's face. "When you've got someone like Cordelia looking at you like you're romantic, you become it."
"This is priceless. I'm really happy for you." Lorne told him sincerely. "But you're not, right?" he asked cautiously. "I'm your staunchest supporter and all, but we can't forget--."
Angel's grin slid off his face. "I haven't forgotten either. No, I'm not too happy," he said, his eyes troubled. "Not when I know that she'll have to leave me again."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know, Lorne" Angel told him honestly. "I just want to grab her and take her somewhere far away, just the two of us. Away from all the craziness that's around us, and most of all, away from ourselves."
Lorne patted the vampire's arm in sympathy.
"For now, we're taking it minute by minute." Angel declared grimly. "We'll deal with it when the time comes."
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J.
Cordelia crept through an abandoned back alleyway, the note still in her hand. Looking around furtively, she wasn't detecting any signs of life or movement. It was very dark and quiet, so much so that the only sounds heard came from her heels echoing on the pavement.
"I really have to get that demon to find better meeting places," she grumbled, beginning to tiptoe around to quiet her shoes. She stopped, realizing how incredibly silly she was being. Her head held high, she defiantly tapped forward, ignoring the tingle in her fingers and toes.
Nearing the back of the alley, she hopped straight up when a loud bang sounded. Stilling immediately, her eyes wide and alert, she didn't relax until only the silence surrounded her again. She let out a breath of air.
"You've been in worse situations by yourself before," she told herself. "This is going to be a walk in the park."
But the dark shadows lining the walls surrounding her lengthened and shortened ominously even though no one was around her. She listened intently on the sounds of her heels clicking, clicking, clicking as she hesitantly proceeded towards the shadows.
A sudden screech filled the air and startled her so much, she jumped up again and let out a scream. When she saw a cat slink away into the darkness, she let out another sigh of relief and mentally berated her rattled nerves.
"Trust it to Skip to find the darkest, creepiest alley," she said in her usual tone of voice, trying to assure herself. But, there was a question of doubt floating through her mind as she saw a shadow turn a corner swiftly.
She couldn't hold back a jittery shake that went through her entire body.
A chill began to travel up her spine.
"Cordelia." She heard her name whispered.
"Skip?" she asked, following the direction of the whisper. "Is that you?" As she rounded a corner, she found herself facing a brick wall. "Well, isn't this a cliché horror scene?" she laughed to herself nervously.
Suddenly, she was flashed with a vision, an extraordinarily graphic one, as she saw a woman in white bleeding to death in an alleyway, a hunting knife lying not two feet away from her.
She gasped in terror as she realized why it all looked so familiar.
Oh god, it was a vision of HER in THIS alleyway.
She turned to run then, as her ears detected a shuffle behind her. Only it was too late, she realized, as she felt something slam against her, causing her to tumble to the ground. She threw her hands up defensively, laughing inwardly as time ticked at an agonizingly slow speed.
What a great irony. All this time spent wondering who the victim would be, trying to figure out who to protect.
And what terrible timing. To be back with Angel, maybe not permanently, but at least for a little while. Finally in love and truly happy, only to have it ripped away so cruelly.
She fought back a sob as she felt the icy, unforgiving chill of metal piercing her flesh, plunging into her chest. Her hand flew to the gaping wound as the knife was pulled out, a sickeningly moist sound coming from her body.
She gazed up at her attacker and killer dazedly, and was both surprised and horrified at the youthful face staring back at her.
Oh, GOD, she KNEW HIM.
Those baby blue eyes now brown, that mussed up hair she had once ruffled tenderly, the beautiful, cherubic cheeks that she kissed, a little more than a year ago. She recognized it all.
And the stance that reminded her of someone else she loved.
"Why?" she cried to him weakly. "How could you do this?"
He didn't answer as he stood over her, his grip tightly wrapped around the knife's handle. Her warm blood gushed freely out of the open wound, her life force rapidly draining from her as she stared up at the boy she never stopped loving, afraid for him and for the vampire who would never forgive.
Most of all, afraid for the end of the future.
~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ @ CONTINUED IN PART IV @ ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~
Last update: July 1, 2002