Title: Battle of Wills (1/1)
Author: Dannyblue
Email: dannyblue2@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Category: Humor, Romance
Content: Angel/Cordelia
Summary: Fourth in the "Mortal Fear"
series. Another prequal to the
first story. Who's in charge anyway?
Spoilers: None. (And Connor seems to
have mysteriously disappeared.)
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon
& David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended,
no profit is made.
Distribution: All you have to do is
ask.
"I really don't think I need to go," Angel said again. His left arm
wrapped securely around Cordelia's ample waist, his
right hand keeping a steadying hold on her arm, he steered her towards the
sofa. "Gunn and Wesley can handle this one on their own."
"I don't think so," Cordy disagreed. She
shook her head. "There were at least a dozen demons in my vision. You guys
need all the muscle you can get."
Subtly, as if Angel wouldn't notice, she tried to speed up a little. Angel,
just as subtly, used his superior vampire strength to hold her to a slow,
steady, safe waddle. He felt a small measure of triumph when she sighed in
defeat and let him set the pace. So what if it took 15 minutes to walk across
the lobby. Those fifteen careful minutes meant there was less chance of her
falling. And, hey, she was the one who said her stomach was now so big, she
felt like she was going to tip over whenever she was on her feet. Yeah, she was
just joking, but still...
Anyway, in Angel's opinion, women who were over nine months
pregnant--especially when they were his wife and pregnant with his
kid--shouldn't be moving around at all. They should be in bed, being waited on
hand and foot. But Cordelia insisted on getting up
and moving around every day. And the doctor insisted it was good for her. Who
was he to argue?
"We've dealt with grintocs before," Angel
said. He gave the side of her belly a gentle, reassuring pat. "I'm sure
the guys can handle it."
"Yeah, Barbie," Gunn said confidently. "We've got it
covered."
Pleased that someone was backing him up, Angel sent the black man a smile
bright enough to rival one of Cordy's thousand watters. It was a sight so rare, so unexpected,
Charles Gunn seemed to be stunned by it. Fred, who was standing next to him,
gasped, a look of wonder and awe taking over her face. Seemingly off balance,
she leaned against the check-in counter for support.
"Actually," Wesley said, too lost in thought to have seen The Smile,
"grintoc are quite formidable, and very
dangerous. I think..."
Angel's head whipped around so fast, you could almost hear the air snap in its
wake. He pinned the Englishmen with a glare cold enough to freeze lava, hot
enough to burn a hole through steel. As the vampire's eyes flashed amber, the
color drained from Wesley's face. A visible shudder worked it's
way through his body.
"...that Charles is correct," Wesley smoothly continued, voice
shaking only a little. He cleared his suddenly dry throat. "He and I
shouldn't have too much difficulty handling this situation on our own."
With a nod of satisfaction, Angel turned away from the former Watcher...only to
find his wife giving him a chiding look.
"Angel!" she scolded as they finally reached the sofa. "Stop
trying to intimidate Wesley."
"Trying?" Gunn scoffed.
"Wait a minute," Wesley sputtered. "I wasn't..."
"What?" Angel denied, trying to sound both insulted and innocent.
Turning her to face him, he took her upper arms and slowly ease
her into a sitting position. After months of practice, he had it down to an art
form. "I didn't do anything!"
"You so did." With a sigh, Cordy settled
back into the cushions. "And it isn't going to work because you're
going."
Straightening up, Angel folded his arms. Towering over her, he glowered,
determined to let her know he meant business. His wife, busy trying to find a
comfortable position, barely seemed to notice.
"And stop pouting."
Okay, she noticed. But pouting? How could she call the look that filled even
the most deadly of demons with fear, with dread, pouting?
Shaking his head, Angel decided enough was enough. It was time to take a stand.
To be firm. To hold his ground.
To take control.
"Cordelia, you're overdue. You could go into
labor at any time. There's no way I'm leaving you!"
Cordelia looked up at him, her face a calm, serene
mask. "Yes, I'm overdue. But I'm not going to go into labor the minute you
walk out the door, Angel."
"You can't know..."
"Yes, I can. Call it women's intuition. I just know it's not going to
happen tonight. Besides, the nest isn't far away. You could get there, slice
those grintoc into demon kibble--" she snapped
her fingers "--like that, and be back
home, all in less than an hour." She folded hands atop her rounded belly
and took a deep breath. "Of course, if you insist on not going, there
isn't much I can do about it." Her hazel eyes glowed with a devilish
light. "Except maybe forget to mention when the doctor says it's okay for us to resume our normal, you know,
husband-wife relations."
As the threat hit its mark, Angel's unbeating heart
sank. His eyes widened with donning horror. His mouth dropped open in silent
protest. She wouldn't...She couldn't...
Behind him, Wesley cleared his throat again, this time in embarrassment. Fred
tried to stifle giggle. Gunn just chuckled outright.
"But if you still want to be stubborn about it, like I said, not much I
can do." Cordy shrugged casually before glancing
down at her fingernails. "I'll just get Fred to give me a manicure. That
might keep me from worrying too much while Gunn and Wesley are gone. After all,
the doctor said worrying isn't good for the baby. Then, if--I mean when--they
get back, and I still haven't gone into labor, I won't say 'I told you so.' I
won't even think it too loud. Okay?"
Silence descended on the lobby of Angel Investigations. Eyes glued to their
employer, Wesley, Gunn and Fred held their collective breaths, waiting to see
what he was going to do.
Take a stand, Angel's inner voice demanded. Be firm, it
continued, and Angel nodded decisively. Take control. Don't look into her eyes.
Don't look into her...
He looked into her eyes. And they were filled with love, and trust, and
determination. With the knowledge that he would do the right
thing.
As his insides melted, Angel's shoulders drooped in defeat. "Where's my
cell phone?"
"Like there was any doubt," Wesley mumbled, almost too low for even
vampire hearing to detect.
"Whipped," Gunn muttered. Or maybe he said, 'wimp'. Either way, Angel
felt his soft growl was justified.
"Here Angel," Fred piped up. She grabbed his cell phone from the
check-in counter. "Charged up and ready to go." She all but skipped
over to the coat wrack. Grabbing a black duster, she brought it over to her
boss.
His movements angry and sharp, Angel put on the coat, stuffed the phone into
one of the inner pockets.
"You're pouting again," Cordy said,
sounding amused.
"I am not," Angel denied. And he wasn't whining either.
"You're cute when you pout."
Those five little words made any anger Angel was feeling vanish. Glancing down,
he was captivated by her gentle, loving smile. So much so, he couldn't help
returning it.
Wesley and Gunn, knowing what was coming next, started for the door. As they
left the hotel, Angel could hear Wes mumbling, "He knows he's going
to give in to her. Why he insists on wasting time..."
Ignoring the angry mutterings, Angel leaned down, one hand on the back of the
sofa. As he pressed his lips to Cordelia's, and that
familiar warm, light-headed feeling came over him, he was glad he didn't need
the doctors permission to do this at least.
Angel finally pulled away, staying close enough so that their noses were still
touching.
"I'll be right back," he promised.
"You better be," Cordy said, the first
indication that she wasn't quite as eager for him to leave as she'd seemed. She
rested her hand against his cheek. "And be careful."
"You know me."
"Exactly."
Rolling his eyes--because he did not get hurt on every case, as some
very beautiful, very pregnant people claimed--he rested his hand against her
belly. "Don't do anything until I get back."
"We wouldn't dare," Cordy said solemnly.
Then, her voice became cheerful. "Now go on. Demons to kill, people to
save."
With a reluctant nod, Angel straightened up. Giving his wife, and her
impressively big stomach, one more worried glance, he forced himself to move.
As he passed a grinning, dewy-eyed Fred, he said, "Call me if
anything..."
"I will," the physicist promised.
As he walked out the door, Angel wondered what the record was for destroying a
nest of grintoc. And if he'd win a
prize when he broke it.
THE END
