Angel's POV
The sun will be up in about three hours. The clock on the dashboard reads 4:17. I try not to think of my restricted time as I drive down the highway as fast as my Plymouth will go.
I try not to think about what I just did. Who I just did it to. What Cordelia would say or do when she found out. I try to push it to the back of my mind, because I know that if I think too much about it, I'll be sick.
At 4:23, I'm bending over on the side of the road, retching. But considering I haven't eaten anything in about 2 days, the most I can do is dry-heave. After a few moments of painful gagging, I close my eyes, and force myself to stop. It takes a good 10 minutes before I'm completely calmed down. I lean against the car, and try to think. I know I should go back. Go talk to her. I make some stupid excuse about how I would run out of darkness if I went back now, but I know damn well that I have enough time to do it. That if I were to utilize my time, I could do it no problem. I'm just afraid. Ashamed. I slowly make my way back to the car and pull myself into the drivers seat. I start the car, and pull back onto the road.
***
At about 9:00 pm, I drag myself down the stairs and into the Hyperion lobby. I had gotten home at 6:00 am, and had been sleeping all day. I gave the rest of the crew the day off, but when I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see Cordelia is sitting at the front desk, humming some song--it sounds like country to me, but she refuses to admit she listens to it.
"Cordelia." I mutter as I pass her and make my way into the kitchen.
"Hello, Angel." She says as she stands up and walks after me.
"What are you doing here? I gave you guys the day off."
"Oh, I know. But there's just nothing to do back at my place... I was thinking maybe we could have movie night?"
I rub my eyes and shake my head. "Not tonight, Cordy. I just... I don't feel like visitors." Suddenly, paranoia takes over my mind. What if Cordy's demon-powers include mind reading? Or super smelling? Would she be able to see my memories of last night? Or smell Buffy on me? I mentally tell myself to stop being so stupid, but still, I push Buffy to the back of my mind and promise to shower again once I get upstairs.
Cordelia looks at me, hurt. "Oh." She says. "Ok, fine." She walks to the sink and leans against the counter.
"Cordy."
"No, I'm fine. I'll just go home and visit with Dennis."
"Sorry." I mutter as I shove a pack of blood into the microwave. "I just--"
"I said I'm fine, Angel." She forces a smile at me and then reaches behind her and grabs a mug. She says nothing as she hands it to me.
I take it from her without meeting her eyes.
"I'll just clean up a little, and I'll be gone in a few." I open my mouth again, but she interrupts me. "Don't apologize." She says falsely sugar-coated as she pushes past me and walks into the lobby. As her footsteps fall softly in the next room, I can hear her resume her song, a little slowly than before. I don't even bother to feel guilty as I grab my mug out of the micro. I have enough to be guilty for.
***
As I step out of the shower, I feel a little better. A little. Not much, though.
But believe me, my mood is broken even more as I step out of the bathroom, and into my room to get dressed.
Cordy is sitting on my bed, and she doesn't look happy.
"Look, I said--" I start.
"I know what you said." She says as she stands up and makes her way to my door. "I just came up here to let you know, Buffy is waiting downstairs. She showed up a few minutes ago."
***
I run my fingers through my wet hair and try to think of what to say as I make my way downstairs.
In the lobby, I can see Cordelia behind the desk, getting her belongings together. She's going awfully slow, and I know she's taking her time so that she can watch what will unfold with Buffy's visit.
Buffy.
She's standing in the middle of the lobby, looking out of place. She tries to look angry, but I can see right through it and can tell she's hurt. Disappointed. Upset. The list goes on. And I'm the one who put all of that there.
When she sees me, she smiles ruefully. "Well." She says, "Nice to see you again, Angel."
"Hi, Buffy." I say softly, then turn to the woman behind the desk. "Cordy, I thought you were going home?"
Buffy's eyes flick over to Cordelia, then look back at me, burning holes into my skin. "So, I wake up, and I have this ridiculous fantasy that maybe you're off getting something to eat. You know, breakfast in bed--well, couch--kinda thing, you know? But, a few hours later, the sun comes up and you're not back. I start to worry."
I interrupt her here. "Why don't we go upstairs and talk?" I ask, nearly close to pleading.
But Buffy isn't having any of it. "I'm comfortable here, thanks."
"Cordy, go home." I demand. Cordelia is past pretending to go home; She's stopped and is watching me and Buffy with curiosity written over her face.
"Don't want her to hear, huh, Angel? Don't want to air your dirty laundry?"
Cordelia still hasn't made an attempt at the door, and I feel ready to snap. I swing my head to look at her. "Are you leaving, or not?!" I yell at her. She jumps slightly in surprise, and takes a few steps back. But soon, the scared girl is hidden again, and instead, tough-girl Cordy has taken her place.
Buffy looks between Cordy and me once more before delivering the final blow, and rightfully so. "I started to worry that maybe Angelus had gotten out." Suddenly, her anger disappears, and she looks tremendously sad. "But it wasn't perfect happiness, was it?" She smiles ruefully once more, and swallows her tears. "No. Somewhere along the line, sleeping with me stopped making you happy." Her face betrays her, and tears start falling. She covers her face with her hands, and I tear my eyes away from her to look at Cordelia.
I wish I could say Cordy looked mad, or sad or hell, I'd even take murderous.
But no, instead, she stares blankly at me, before she starts laughing hysterically.
***
Buffy's POV
Angel is so surprised that I actually showed up here. Well, imagine my surprise when I wake to find he wasn't there. That I had been abandoned. Again. And after all of that crap he told me. How he was so suffering, and he loved me and--I have to stop now. I can feel tears begin to well up as he stares at me from across the lobby. But I won't let him see me cry. Oh no, he already got through my defenses when he showed up at my front porch for a quick screw and a 'screw you.'
"Well." I say, trying hard to cover up my tears with a smile, "Nice to see you again, Angel."
Angel looks at me with his big puppy dog eyes--and I feel the sudden need to gauge them with something. "Hi, Buffy." He says, then looks to Cordelia. "Cordy," He says, "I thought you were going home?"
I look over to the woman packing things into her purse, and it hits me. As of right now, he's more worried about hiding it from Cordelia than he is about explaining anything to me. And I just bristle at the thought. "So, I wake up, and I have this ridiculous fantasy that maybe you're off getting something to eat. You know, breakfast in bed--well, couch--kinda thing, you know? But, a few hours later, the sun comes up and you're not back. I start to worry."
He interrupts me. "Why don't we go upstairs and talk?" He's close to begging, and I can tell. And all I want to do is run to him and beat him. The stupid asshole just wrecked me and all he worries about is making sure he maintains his 'good guy' face in front of his co-workers.
There is no way I'm letting him have his way with me, again. "I'm comfortable here, thanks."
He turns to Cordelia. "Cordy, go home." He demands.
Now, I snap. "Don't want her to hear, huh, Angel? Don't want to air your dirty laundry?" I'm close to screaming, and I don't know why I'm not.
He looks at me, then back to Cordy, and apparently, he's snapped, too. Because then he yells at her, "Are you leaving, or not?!" Cordelia jumps and takes a few steps back, and I try not to scoff. I can't believe him. I'm the one he should be talking to, begging for forgiveness. Damn it, Angel! Look at ME. Please, I'm begging you, just pay attention to me. Let me know I'm still here! That I still exist! That I'm more than just a 'Slayer' and that I'm a person! Please, Angel, please, just look at me, and just let me know... Just show me that you feel remorse or anything... but no, Angel's still looking at Cordy, and I'm dying to tear his attention away from her, and back to me. "I started to worry that maybe Angelus had gotten out." I say. And once the words leave my mouth, I realize I'm not as angry as I am hurt. My anger falls away to my insecurities and sadness as I realize what I knew when I first realized he was gone. "But it wasn't perfect happiness, was it?" I say. I blink back tears and try to continue, but I can't.
When? When did this happen? When did I become so undesirable? When did my life start to tumble downwards and why won't it stop?
The entire ride up here, I tried to think of excuses. Maybe he had an emergency, or maybe he was afraid of what the Scoobies might say or ANYTHING, anything other than it wasn't real. Anything that meant I didn't have to admit that last night wasn't special.
So I could keep pretending he ran to me when things got tough. That he still thought of me. Tears start to fall as I think to myself. And finally, I admit the truth. "No. Somewhere along the line, sleeping with me stopped making you happy."
***
Cordy's POV
At first, I don't really know what to say.
The thought of Angel running to Sunnydale makes me want to scoff.
But then... I see the shame written on Angel's face and it hits me. He ran to Sunnydale. I don't really know what I'm doing, but before I can stop myself, I'm laughing. Hysterically.
I'm laughing so hard, I start to cry... then, I stop laughing, but continue crying as the full weight of Buffy's words hits me. Sleeping with me stopped making you happy.
Paranoia starts to haunt me. Something must have been wrong. And if it was, why didn't he turn to me? Am I such a bad person that he doesn't feel he can talk to me? Did I do something to make him think he had to hide things from me? Am I the one who upset him enough to send him to Sunnydale? He's still gaping at me, looking hurt, but I don't even care. I want to hit him. Hurt him. Jesus, right now all I'm wishing for is a nice big patch of sunlight and I would have all I needed! How dare he even try to act hurt? How dare he--
My thoughts are cut off as my entire chest starts to ache. Is this what it feels like when your heart breaks?
No. This is what it feels like when you stop breathing.
I try to take a deep breath, and calm down, but the idea of calming down right now just doesn't make sense. Angel takes a few steps closer to me. "Cordelia." He says, "I-"
I look at him contemptuously and take more than a few steps away from him, and I guess he realizes I don't even want to look at him right now, because he stops walking towards me and looks towards the floor.
"I know you don't want to hear this." He says softly, "And I know it's probably not going to make you stop hurting, either, but... I... I'm sorry."
I just stare him down. He's sorry? He just betrayed me, and all he can say is sorry. Sorry is something you say when you break something, or interrupt someone when they're talking or do anything other than THIS! My mouth opens and shuts quite a few times, and I know I must resemble a fish. He's rendered me completely speechless, and that's quite a feat.
I mean, I know he didn't truly betray me, because we weren't really together. I get that. And I guess part of me knew that he always belonged to Buffy, but... I really thought we were getting somewhere. Part of me knows I shouldn't really be mad--we weren't together, I never told him how I felt. Technically, his little late night rendezvous is completely legit.
I guess I'm more hurt than mad. I mean, didn't he notice?
The movie nights and silly banter and my clothes and belongings somehow finding their way into his room... didn't he notice? Couldn't he see my inability to be away from him!?
No. He didn't see. He was too caught up in Buffy. He was just too damn... I force myself to calm down. When did I become so maudlin about things?
For the first time since Buffy arrived, he looks me in the eyes and begins walking towards me. He stops about a foot from me. "Cordy..." He says.
That's it. I completely snap. "Don't call me that!" I yell, finding my voice. He tries to take a step closer to me, but I shove him away. "Don't TOUCH me!" I open my mouth again to say more, but I can't think of anything to say.
So, I punch him.
***
Buffy's POV
I stare in shock as I watch Cordelia swing back, and slug Angel across the face. And, oh no, not a little slap like one might expect from Queen C. A strong right hook. I notice her form is a lot like Angels. He must have been training her. Talk about irony kicking his ass.
They both stare each other down for a minute before Cordelia grabs her purse and storms out the door. Angel doesn't even try to stop her.
Finally, I find my voice. "You're 0 for 2." I say, shakily.
He looks at me with... I don't know? What is that? Worry? Shame? Hurt? It seems like every bad feeling is written on his face. "Guess I am." I take a few tentative steps towards him. I know I should be mad, angry, livid. I should be calling him every name in the book. But I just feel so drained of energy.
"What's going on, Angel?" I ask.
He sighs--there's that habit again. "I'm-"
"Really sorry for last night." I finish for him. "Yeah, you're right. You are sorry." My eyes start to tear and instinctively, my hands reach up to wipe my eyes. "How... Jesus Christ, Angel, how could you?!" I run my fingers through my hair. "I was so stupid! Thinking that maybe, just maybe, you still loved me or thought of me or--" I stop. My voice is cracking and my face is twisting in pain as I try to hold back tears. "Look, I didn't come here to talk or work through our problems. I just came here to let you know what I thought. Maybe someday I'll be able to look at you without hating you, but right now, I can't. I know you're sorry, Angel. But right now, that's just not enough."
***
Angel's POV
It's been about a week since Buffy came.
Cordelia hasn't been to work since. When she gets a vision, she calls Wes. I learned quickly to not answer the phone--if she heard my voice, she'd hang up without letting us know what she saw.
The rest of them don't know what's going on. They think me and Cordy had a spat and she's just being petty.
But I don't correct them, and I guess that makes me the petty one. But hey, I've already used and betrayed the only women who ever meant anything to me--the word 'petty' means nothing compared to what they think of me.
I roll over in my bed and lay face down in my pillow. After a few minutes, I realize that if I were human, I would have suffocated by now. And then I realize I wish I were human, so I could be dead already. Behind me, my bedroom door opens.
"Angel?"
"Yeah, Fred?" I say, muffled.
"Just came up to give you your blood." I hear her place a mug down on the night table. "And to let you know we're all leaving. It's midnight, and still no activity. If something comes up, we'll get you?" I don't answer. "Alright. I'm going to stay with Charles tonight. See you in the morning."
"Uh huh." I mutter.
"Angel?"
"Yeah?" My voice is still muffled by my pillow, and I can hear that she's annoyed because I won't look at her.
"Whatever is going on with you and Cordy... you two should really work it out." Yeah, that's a laugh. 'Sorry I boned Buffy, Cordelia. It was another beige period, what can I say?' I laugh to myself and Fred sighs, exasperated. "It's hard on the rest of us..."
"It's hard on YOU?"
She continues, as if I didn't interrupt her. "What with her not coming to work and you staying in your room all day and..." She trails off. I stopped listening to her a while ago and she knows it. "I'm going now."
"Alright."
I don't hear her footsteps as she walks away, but I hear the door click shut behind her.
A few minutes later, I hear the door open again. I lift my head up off the pillow to see what she wants, and I notice my bedside clock reads that it's long past midnight. Almost 3:00 am. Hours since Fred has been here.
I roll over and face my door to see who is visiting me so late, and I'm shocked to see Cordelia standing in my room.
She still looks hurt, and I don't blame her.
But as she makes her way across the room and to my bed, something tells me she isn't here to share her feelings.
