chapter 1
Angel reached Cordelia's front door in a mere twenty minutes, his deepening concern for his young friend adding wings to his heels as he quickly navigated the twists and turns of LA's sewer system. The door swung open soundlessly on well-oiled hinges before his fist had completed its first contact with the painted wood.
A single lamp burned brightly on the end table farthest from where Cordelia sat on the couch. Her shoulders were hunched and her entire body was curled around the decorative throw pillow she clutched to her chest, arms folded against the deep velvet pile and her hands in a white-knuckled grip on the gold-corded edges.
Angel approached the silent and motionless girl, his attentive gaze drinking in the details of the scene. A pen and pad of paper lay discarded on the sofa cushion next to his friend and an empty water glass lay on its side on the coffee table amid dozens of scattered pills and capsules. He hoped her current state was due to the after-effects of the vision itself and not an unintentional overdose.
His fears were relieved when she raised her head slightly when he drew closer to the couch. Sorrowful eyes bored into his, driving home the fact that her suffering was yet another strike against his conscience.
"Cordelia?" Angel's attention was temporarily diverted by the pad of paper that was lifted by an unseen hand, accepting the clue to Cordelia's condition. There were only a few lines of scrawled words on the page, the handwriting jerky and tortured, a far cry from the flowing loops and peaks he had become accustomed to deciphering.
table… blue stones… road… crystal… silver… broken… pain… anger… coming
His head jerked back toward Cordelia. "What's coming, Cordy? Where?"
She shook her head miserably. "I don't know," she admitted in a hoarse half-whisper.
Angel discarded the paper and crouched down next to his ill prepared seer. "It's okay, Wes will figure it out." He brushed his fingers across her tear-damp cheeks. "He's good at that kind of thing."
She nodded wordlessly, allowing her body to accept the comfort Angel offered.
** *** **
Wesley finished scrawling a note for anyone who might return to the Hyperion before he and Angel made it back to the hotel and placed it on the counter, held in place with one of Cordelia's bottles of nail lacquer. He only paused long enough to retrieve his keys from his office before he dashed through the lobby and hurried to his car where it was parked a block away.
He was in such a rush that he didn't notice the roiling black thunderheads that soared across the once clear skies, he paid no attention to the heightened feel of electricity in the air as he finally approached his car, keys in hand.
What did finally snag his attention away from his single-minded mission of arriving at Cordelia's apartment in all due haste was the crash of deafening thunder and simultaneous blinding lightening strike that crashed into the transformer across the street from his parking place. He watched as white sparks streaked along the power lines on either side of the large metal box, crackles and pops echoing in the sudden silence.
He shielded his eyes from the rising wind as it tossed dust and dirt into the air. He had never seen a storm begin so quickly.
Remembering his reason for being outside to begin with, he turned back to his car. Just as his key slid home in the lock, another crash sounded behind him, accompanied by another bright flash of light. When the rumble died down, the street was empty, Wesley's keys still swayed in the door of his car but he had disappeared.
** *** **
"Come on, Wes, answer the phone," Angel muttered softly. He had managed to bundle Cordelia into bed but Wesley was still nowhere to be found. He'd called both his apartment and the Hyperion but hadn't been able to track down the elusive ex-watcher.
"He's still not answering?"
Cordelia's voice startled him, his concentration had been so focused on the fruitless phone call that he hadn't heard her leave the bedroom. "No, he isn't. You should be lying down."
She shrugged delicately and sunk into a corner of the couch. "I'm feeling a little better," she told him. "Besides, the thunderstorm woke me up. I don't think I've ever seen one this violent."
Angel looked past Cordelia to the window, watching the rain sheet down the glass. Lightening gave a staccatoed effect on the street below, strobing across the few frantic pedestrians who had been surprised by the sudden downpour.
"Maybe he's stuck somewhere because of all this rain," she suggested.
"Maybe." Angel crossed the room to sit next to her. "Are you sure you're feeling up to being… up?"
"Yeah, I'll be okay. Actually, I a little worried about Fred and Gunn, those roads out in Topanga can get pretty slick when it just sprinkles."
"Gunn called half an hour ago, when it first started raining, he and Fred are at a diner. They're going to wait out the storm there and head back when they're able."
Relief sloped Cordelia's shoulders. "Oh good, at least they have some sense."
Angel nodded. "I just wish I could get a hold of Wesley."
"Did you try his cell phone?" Cordelia tucked her feet up underneath her, leaning against the arm of the sofa.
"Yeah, I got that message that says he's out of range."
"It's probably just the storm. He'll probably be an idiot and try to drive over here." She smiled at the mention of Wesley's probable course of action. She shifted so that her head rested against his shoulder. Soon her eyelids had fluttered shut as she slipped back to sleep.
** *** **
"How romantic," Fred giggled as Gunn set a single candle on the table between them. They had gotten to the diner just as the rain had started, and having called Angel to explain their delay, decided to stay for a while and have dinner. That was when the cozy little roadside diner lost its electricity.
"Don't-a worry, don't-a worry," the chef called as he walked through the tables. "You all get-a your food. De' stove, she is gas!"
Gunn chuckled at the rotund man, and snaked his hands across the tabletop to clasp Fred's chilly fingers. "I can't imagine a better way to spend the afternoon that stuck in a room with you by candlelight."
Fred smiled. "It would be even better if there weren't twenty other people in here with us."
"So we'll give 'em a show they'll never forget," Gunn promised lowly.
"Charles!" Fred's outraged gasp was spoiled by the fit of giggles that followed it.
They ate their meal in quiet contemplation when it arrived, sharing looks and smiles across the plates of spaghetti. Even the worsening storm didn't seem to affect the lovebirds as they lost themselves in one another, until a bolt of lightening struck close enough tot the diner that the resounding thunder rattled the glasses on the table.
"This storm is really bad," Fred said, worry coloring her voice.
"Yeah, I know. It's weird though, I've lived here all my life and I've never seen anything like it. You?"
"Well, in Texas you get a lot of storms… and tornadic thunderstorms, and tornadoes, and hurricanes…"
Gunn rested a finger against her lips to cease the list of catastrophic weather conditions. "You ever seen anything like this?"
Fred turned her head toward the front of the store and the windows there, shaking her head slowly. "No, never."