Chapter 6: Cheesy Fries and Caritas
"Cheesy fries!" Cordelia said, slamming her book shut.
"Angel and Wesley looked at each other quizzically.
"We're getting nowhere, and I haven't eaten in four months," she explained. "And I want cheesy fries."
"A break probably isn't a bad idea," Wesley said, closing his volume. "I honestly can't remember the last meal I ate."
"Well, we do have all of the resources of Wolfram & Hart at our disposal. The boys in the basement could handle this for awhile, since it was them who found the prophecy in the first place," Angel considered.
"Excellent. No ground will be lost and I get a chance to catch up with my two favorite guys," Cordelia grinned.
~*~
"You think Lorne would have given up by now," Cordelia commented, taking in the latest incarnation of Caritas. "How many times has it been destroyed now?"
"At least twice by us," Wesley mumbled through a mouthful of cheesy fries. He reached for another.
Cordelia swatted him away. "Hands off, bucko. I said you could have a couple-you've devoured half my basket!"
Angel tried not to laugh.
"Oh, you think it's funny, do you, Mr. Angel? Don't think I haven't seen you sneak a few when you thought I wasn't looking," she glared at him. "'Human food does nothing for me; I only drink blood.'"
"Exceptions can be made," he replied sheepishly.
"Fine." She pushed the basket toward them. "Finish it off. I'm going to get another one-all for myself. And if you touch those . . ." she walked off to the counter.
Wesley watched her go. "Do you remember her being this, um . . ."
"Exhausting?" Angel finished. "It has been awhile, but yeah, I do."
"I missed the Cordelia that kept us on our toes-in the not possessed by a higher power kind of way."
"Do you think she still has any of her demon powers?"
"She did seem to be listening in on our conversation earlier, but she didn't really need super-hearing to figure that out."
"We never did know what she was capable of. There was the floating and glowy thing."
"What about the visions?"
"I would be lying if I said I hoped she still had them. The less we have to do with the Powers, the better."
"Agreed." Wesley thought for a moment, then decided he had nothing to lose asking Angel about his memories of things. "When you think back over the last two years, does it ever seem like something's missing?"
Angel grew quiet. There was no reason he had to lie to Wesley. "Sometimes. But after Jasmine's mind mojo, it doesn't surprise me. And then there was the mystery surrounding the Beast."
"You're probably right. But I can't help feeling like I have these blank spots. Or maybe I just need to get out of the library more," he shrugged.
"Hey, kids, why the long faces?"
They looked up.
"Find Elvis yet, Lorne?" Angel asked.
"Don't I wish," he rolled his eyes toward the stage where a scaly patron was trying very unsuccessfully to croon "One for My Baby." "I heard you were trying to reach me earlier, Angelcakes. Nothing that will bring about the destruction of my establishment, I hope?"
"That depends," a voice spoke up behind him. He turned. "That depends on whether or not you can come up with an alternative to cheesy fries."
"Cheesy fries!" Cordelia said, slamming her book shut.
"Angel and Wesley looked at each other quizzically.
"We're getting nowhere, and I haven't eaten in four months," she explained. "And I want cheesy fries."
"A break probably isn't a bad idea," Wesley said, closing his volume. "I honestly can't remember the last meal I ate."
"Well, we do have all of the resources of Wolfram & Hart at our disposal. The boys in the basement could handle this for awhile, since it was them who found the prophecy in the first place," Angel considered.
"Excellent. No ground will be lost and I get a chance to catch up with my two favorite guys," Cordelia grinned.
~*~
"You think Lorne would have given up by now," Cordelia commented, taking in the latest incarnation of Caritas. "How many times has it been destroyed now?"
"At least twice by us," Wesley mumbled through a mouthful of cheesy fries. He reached for another.
Cordelia swatted him away. "Hands off, bucko. I said you could have a couple-you've devoured half my basket!"
Angel tried not to laugh.
"Oh, you think it's funny, do you, Mr. Angel? Don't think I haven't seen you sneak a few when you thought I wasn't looking," she glared at him. "'Human food does nothing for me; I only drink blood.'"
"Exceptions can be made," he replied sheepishly.
"Fine." She pushed the basket toward them. "Finish it off. I'm going to get another one-all for myself. And if you touch those . . ." she walked off to the counter.
Wesley watched her go. "Do you remember her being this, um . . ."
"Exhausting?" Angel finished. "It has been awhile, but yeah, I do."
"I missed the Cordelia that kept us on our toes-in the not possessed by a higher power kind of way."
"Do you think she still has any of her demon powers?"
"She did seem to be listening in on our conversation earlier, but she didn't really need super-hearing to figure that out."
"We never did know what she was capable of. There was the floating and glowy thing."
"What about the visions?"
"I would be lying if I said I hoped she still had them. The less we have to do with the Powers, the better."
"Agreed." Wesley thought for a moment, then decided he had nothing to lose asking Angel about his memories of things. "When you think back over the last two years, does it ever seem like something's missing?"
Angel grew quiet. There was no reason he had to lie to Wesley. "Sometimes. But after Jasmine's mind mojo, it doesn't surprise me. And then there was the mystery surrounding the Beast."
"You're probably right. But I can't help feeling like I have these blank spots. Or maybe I just need to get out of the library more," he shrugged.
"Hey, kids, why the long faces?"
They looked up.
"Find Elvis yet, Lorne?" Angel asked.
"Don't I wish," he rolled his eyes toward the stage where a scaly patron was trying very unsuccessfully to croon "One for My Baby." "I heard you were trying to reach me earlier, Angelcakes. Nothing that will bring about the destruction of my establishment, I hope?"
"That depends," a voice spoke up behind him. He turned. "That depends on whether or not you can come up with an alternative to cheesy fries."