Part Twelve
She could see him. He was far away and veiled in a misty fog, but it was him. His tall dark frame silhouetted in the moonlight. She wanted to go to him but couldn't move. She called his name, "Angel?" He didn't answer but began to move slowly toward her. "Angel?" she called again. His face became clearer, his features more defined as he walked through the fog. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Cordelia?" he called, but it wasn't his voice. Suddenly his broad shape shifted, morphed into a smaller one. "Cordelia?" the voice called again. A dread filled Cordelia's heart, "Wesley?" she asked. Her dream turned black and Wesley's voice was the only thing now that filled her mind. "Cordelia," his voice called once more, now more insistent than before. Cordelia's eyes slowly opened and the cramp in her neck began to ache.
"Good lord, Cordelia. Have you been here all night?"
"You mean its morning again?"
"When did you arrive?"
"I came by yesterday morning, right after you dropped me off. I . I just needed some answers, about the poison . and the cure," she answered, now blushing at her situation as she looked at the disheveled office around her. "What time is it?" she stretched.
"6:30. We were all going to meet here. Today is the high school graduation and we need to prepare. I must be the first to arrive."
Cordelia stretched one last time and forced her fuzzy mind to clear. She turned in Giles' swivel chair and looked at Wesley standing beside the desk, studying his gentle eyes and questioning brow. Angel had been right. If she didn't talk to Wesley now, make him understand her true feelings for him, things could get confusing and a little weird. She didn't want that. Wesley was her friend, someone she could trust. "So, we're alone then?" she asked in a soft voice.
Wesley's heart began to race. He had thought that his second attempt could wait until after the battle. He'd hoped that, if they all survived, he and Cordelia could start things fresh. They'd been bombarded with poison, spells, slayers, near death, not to mention vampires.a vampire. He was sure that if he could get her away from all of that, just for a moment, that things might turn out differently than the kiss had. He had been scared, she had been sick, that's why it had felt so wrong, so platonic. Yes, that was it. Now, he found himself alone with her. He had come in early to study more on the possible side effects of the spell and more importantly, to prove his point that it had only taken Angel's love to cure her. It didn't have to be reciprocated. he hoped. Now he was here with her, alone, and happy about it. "Yes, the others won't be here for a while yet."
"Good," she breathed in deeply. She stood and lead Wesley by the hand to the library outside, sitting down on one of the lounging sofas. Wesley sat beside her and patiently waited to make his move. "Yesterday morning I was confused," she began. "I had been poisoned, near death, and woke up to an . awkward situation. Things are just . confusing for me right now."
"It's perfectly alright, Cordelia. I was a little out of sorts myself," he reassured. "I don't believe that either of us knew exactly what we were doing."
Cordelia smiled. Wesley was going to make this easier for her. He really was a good friend. "I'm glad you see things the same way I do. You know I am all for the hocus pocus stuff when it's saving my life, but choosing my destiny for me is another thing."
The smile of anticipation that had been slowly forming on Wesley's face began to fade away. He looked back to the office, remembering the study session he had had with Giles and Buffy. She'd come for answers and found them. His lie suddenly crept into his mind. "Your destiny?" he tried to ask with innocence.
"Don't pretend like you don't know. I saw the tablet you used to translate the text on. Plus I had a little talk with Angel," she finished a little disheartened.
Oh God. Angel had told her the truth. But if she knew, why was she being so nice about it? Wesley shifted uncomfortably, "Cordelia, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept the truth from you." Wesley paused, he should have never lied. "I came back early to the mansion, after you were cured. I saw you and Angel, when you first awoke," he emphasized, hoping she understood his meaning.
"My awkward situation?"
"Indeed. Knowing the implications of the spell, I acted . protectively of course. I guess I was afraid that if you knew about the 'true love' clause that some part of you might think that you were forced to follow it, no matter what your true feelings. I suppose I didn't tell you about it because I didn't want it to be true."
"You didn't? I mean, you don't think that the two of us."
"Of course not. Why should I ever want something like that to happen?"
"Thank God," she sighed. "But we're still friends, right?"
This question seemed out of place. "Friends?" he asked, wondering why she would ask him if she and Angel had a friendship.
"Well, yeah. I mean you and I may not be soul mates or destined loves or anything, but we're still gonna be friends. Right?" she beamed.
Wesley felt sick. She didn't know. Not everything anyway. He had told her that he was responsible for her recovery and, believing that, she had read the translated passage thinking it pertained to the two of them. She'd mistakenly thought that she was destined to be with him, spending the last twenty-four hours believing it and hoping it wasn't true. Wesley's heart sank, disappointment consumed him. He was such a fool. He'd come here looking for proof that she could love him and she had come here looking for proof that she didn't. He couldn't let this go on, he had to let her know the truth. "Cordelia, I .." he paused, unsure how to set things right.
"What is it?" she smiled light heartedly now and leaned in closer as if urging him to continue.
"There's something I want to tell you, something I must tell you." Wesley paused again, questioning himself mentally, debating the direct ' I lied' approach over the long, drawn out explanation of ego versus fear.
Cordelia tried to keep the smile on her face, her patience wearing thin and her muscles aching from a night spent sleeping in Giles' office. She wanted to go home, crawl in bed and sleep for days. Hurry up Wesley. She smiled a little tighter, "Wesley, it's okay, just say it."
The direct approach it would be. "Cordelia, I l."
*****
Angel had gotten some sleep. Although, he wondered to himself if the full twenty-eight minutes that he'd managed to drift off into fitful slumber would sustain him through the battle. He remembered the fight, it wasn't easy. The mayor had recruited just about every demon in town to help him and even without Faith it had been a struggle to defeat him the first time.
He rounded the corner of the school hallway, sticking close to the wall to avoid the few morning rays that broke through the windows. His mind drifted back to the thought that had made his small nap anything but restful. Cordelia. Cordelia and Wesley. He would not get angry. Wesley wasn't taking something that was his, because she never belonged to him in the first place. So what if they were in love with each other. It wasn't his business that Cordelia preferred a tweed covered coward over him. Alright, that was a little harsh. Wesley was a friend and over all a good man. He should be happy that two friends had found their soul mate, their destiny. That was a good thing. It was good that he had convinced her to go and talk to Wesley. Yeah, that was real good. They were probably together right now in some intimate setting, confessing their innermost feelings for each other. Well, at least he wouldn't have to witness that precious moment. Trying to keep focused on the mission and get home, Angel pushed the wants of his heart and soul to the side as he approached the library doors.
His sense of smell kicked in just before his hearing. He stood frozen, his hand on the swinging door, listening to the moment he was so sure he'd never have to hear.
"Cordelia I."
What a stammering idiot.
"What is it?"
"There's something I want to tell you, something I must tell you."
Go ahead. Say it. Just. One. More. Word. So I can rip your head from your shoulders.
"Wesley, its okay, just say it."
Yes, Wesley, just say it.
"Cordelia, I l.."
Cordelia and Wesley both jumped at the sound of cracking wood as both library doors swung violently against the adjacent walls. "Please, don't let me interrupt," Angel's voice sounded almost silent and definitely deadly. His frightening gaze left them as he crossed the room to the weapons cage, chanting a mantra in his mind. IwillnotkillWesley. IwillnotkillWesley.
Cordelia watched Angel as he crossed the room. Closing her eyes and with a deep sigh of frustration she turned back to Wesley before opening them again. "Can we talk about this later?" she all but begged.
"Cordelia, what went on between you and Angel?"
"I thought you saw it. You said you were there."
"No," he continued in a whisper. "Yesterday, you said you spoke with him. What did he say to you?"
Cordelia let out a deep breath, closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. "Wesley, I'm tired. I'm too tired to figure out what you're trying to tell me, I'm too tired to figure out what's going on in this screwed up head of mine, and I'm certainly too tired to figure out just what has made 'Mr. Sunshine' over there so mad. He's crazy. You do know that, don't you?"
Wesley couldn't believe what he was about to say. He didn't trust Angel. Why should he? But for some reason it seemed right, the answer to all of this confusion. "Of course we can discuss this later. I have to return to my apartment. I seem to have forgotten a book that Mr. Giles insisted I bring. He also rang me this morning and told me that he now has the ingredient for the spell to send Angel back to his time. Would you be so kind as to tell him for me before you leave?" Without waiting for an answer from Cordelia Wesley stood and left the library.
"Fantastic," Cordelia complained as she stood and stomped over to the opened cage. Angel, his back facing the opening, continued to select his weapons. "Ahem," she tried. "Wesley said that Giles has the ingredient for your little spell."
Angel continued his task, acting as if she wasn't there.
This was new. Cordelia Chase was not used to being ignored. She readied for a biting remark, something that would really strike him where it hurts. Nothing came to mind. What should have made her mad and defensive only made her curious, and a little sad. Angel was going back. Going home. That, for some strange and unexplained reason, made her sad. She couldn't understand it and she couldn't understand why he was ignoring her. Just yesterday he had said they were friends, that he'd always be her friend, no matter what. But, didn't that mean she had to be a friend too? She thought about the tone of voice she had just used and the way she had stomped to the cage. "Giles told us all, right after he found the spell, that time should set itself right. None of us will remember that any of this ever happened, except for you of course," she said with genuine concern.
Angel continued his actions but spoke, "It's probably for the best," he said quietly.
"Us forgetting you, or you remembering us?"
"Both actually."
"I guess it's good and bad. For one thing, I'll forget all about being poisoned. That's a good thing."
Angel placed the hand axe on the shelf and stood motionless, unable to turn and face her. He was glad that memory would be taken from her. She would have too many as it was. "It would be good to forget that," he answered, wishing it could be wiped from his memory also.
"But it also means I won't remember waking up in the mansion," she said as if she were talking only to herself.
"."
"Or the kiss," she finished, dreamily reflecting on that strange but passionate moment.
Angel's cooled temper flared again as he picked up the hand axe and flung it into his bag. He turned finally, facing her with a sarcastic look, "Well, I'd think you'd be happy about that too. I mean, it was so horrible," he said, grabbing his bag and pushing past her.
Cordelia knew she had made a mistake even bringing it up. He had made his feelings for her quite clear the night before. She tried to fight back astonishment and tears at his insult. "Horrible?" she asked following him into the library.
Angel turned quickly, nearly bumping into her. "You know that kiss was not one of my best. I mean, I watched you almost die right in front of my eyes. After Giles and Wesley found out how to cure you, I had to go and get Faith's . information that I needed. It was almost morning by the time I got back and performed the ritual and it was pretty damn painful for me too. I was exhausted and a little delirious so it's really not fair for you to .."
"You cured me?"
"What?" he answered, frustrated at her interruption.
"You. You cured me? You performed the ritual?"
"I thought we covered this last night."
"No, last night I said . what did I say last night?"
"Last night you said you could never love the man who cured you," Angel reminded her of her painful words.
"Right. Wesley."
"No. Me."
"No. Wesley," she said very slowly.
"But Wesley didn't cure you," Angel placed his bag on the floor, a flicker of hope flashed through his body as he watched Cordelia struggle to piece together the truth.
Cordelia's mind worked on the puzzling events of the last couple of days. Wesley never said he performed the spell. Of course, he never said he didn't. Cordelia looked at Angel and walked to the sofa she and Wesley had just shared. She sat and began to talk to herself. "That must have been what he was trying to tell me," she reasoned.
Angel walked over and took a seat next to her. "Who was trying to tell you?"
"Wesley, we were sitting here and he was trying to say something and then you came in and scared the crap out of us. After I told him how I felt about him he must have known that I thought the ritual was performed by him."
"But it wasn't," he wanted to make that point clear.
"Well duh, I know that now."
"But you have feelings for him anyway, don't you?" Angel prepared himself for the blow.
"Of course."
"Oh."
"He's my friend."
"Friend?" he tested the word again, wanting her reassurance.
"Yes. Friend," she emphasized.
"So you're not in love with him?"
"No. Definitely not," she stated with surety. "I'm so embarrassed. He must have known how confused I was about all of this when I rambled on about the two of us never being 'true loves' or 'destined' to be together. That must be why he sent me in there to tell you about Giles and the ingredient. He must have thought I would figure it out after talking to you."
"Wesley told you to come talk to me?"
Cordelia nodded her head.
Wesley was a good man.
Suddenly the words 'true love' and 'destiny' began to swim around in Cordelia's head again. Angel had saved her. He had cured her. Angel. Her true love? Her . destiny? "So, you're the one who fit the part huh? My ." she couldn't say it. Not out loud.
Angel reminded himself that Cordelia would not remember anything he was about to say. "That only defines me, Cordelia. My feelings for you, or you two and a half years in the future."
"So, in the future you and me," she waved her hand between the two of them.
"Well, not exactly."
"Oh." Of course not.
"I haven't actually gotten around to telling you yet."
"Well what the hell are you waiting for?" she whined.
"I don't know. I guess I'm scared you won't feel the same. We become such good friends, best friends. If I tell you and you don't feel the same way, it might ruin that."
"Well can't you tell if I feel the same way or not? Haven't I given off any signs or anything? Have we even kissed?"
Angel gave her a hard look.
"I mean in the future, dumbass," her voice began to rise.
"No, but if your definition of our kiss the other night is any indication of how you feel in the future, I can safely say that that is not a good sign," his tone rose to match hers.
"What definition?"
"You know, horrible."
Cordelia wanted to laugh. He thought that she thought their kiss had been horrible. It was almost funny. She gave him a small smile and her voice softened, "It wasn't horrible Angel. It was . breathtaking."
"Breathtaking huh?"
"Yeah," she smiled.
"But you kept talking about the kiss, how horrible it was."
"Oh, it was. The drool and the grabby hands. Wesley and I were definitely not meant for each other."
"Wesley kissed you?"
Cordelia nodded her head as if nothing was wrong.
"After you left the mansion?"
"Yeah," she said, wondering why Angel was acting like it was such a big deal. She had said it was horrible.
Angel tried to suppress the mantra that had plagued him earlier by reminding himself that Wesley was a good man. A good. Dead. Man.
Part Thirteen
The battle had been fierce, but remarkably it had progressed and ended much like it had the first time. Angel stood amid the ambulances and fire trucks, listening to the authorities and their blind excuses for why the catastrophe had happened. He placed his hand over his coat pocket, double checking for the ingredient and incantation needed to send him back home. He was ready, or so he thought. He looked around the chaotic scene, trying to catch one more glimpse of Cordelia. He didn't really understand why, he knew she was safe. He'd seen her right after the explosion. It was time to go. So what was he waiting for?
Angel scanned the crowd, his eyes settling on the figure that stood at the opposite end of the parking lot. Buffy. She looked back at him, mirroring his still, calm stare. A few days ago he had hated her for what she had done. Now, standing here amid all of this destruction, she looked so young, almost childlike. A revelation finally came to him. She was never like a child, she was a child. What was it her mother had told him? That she was a young girl in love that couldn't see past tomorrow when it came to him. He had always known that leaving her had been the best thing for him, but he had often wondered if it had been the best thing for her.
He remembered standing just like this the first time, afraid to leave, guilt consuming him over the thought that without his help and protection, the Slayer might not survive. Didn't survive. His mind repeated the questions he had asked himself in this spot two and a half years ago. Should he stay? Should he give up finding his place, his hopes, his life, to keep the Slayer safe? Was she too weak to stand alone? He watched as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. With her head held high, she gave Angel a tight smile, and this time, Buffy turned and walked away. Angel's guilt faded. He had no doubt that what he had done was right for her. Buffy was strong, she already had everything she needed even before he came along. It would have been wrong for him to have given up his place, his life, just to stay in Sunnydale to be the Slayer's faithful but deadly weapon. She didn't need him anymore than he needed her. She already had a destiny.
"So, you're just going to leave without even saying goodbye?" an annoyed voice asked.
Yeah the Slayer had a destiny. And so did he.
*****
Cordy's foot ached but she definitely could not go back upstairs, not yet. She had made peace with Sunnydale Angel. She had even started calling him just 'Angel' aloud. Of course she made sure she mentally put the 'Sunnydale' before it. But she still couldn't stomach his 'assimilation', as Wesley called it, into their lives, into Angel's life. He had said he wanted to go back, that he needed to in order to have what he wanted. He'd tried to make her believe that earlier today. But, Cordy had always been the kind of person who believed in actions over words and right now 'Sunnydale's' actions screamed, "I'm staying right where I am." Cordelia stood straight and focused on the punching bag in front of her and tried the spin kick again.
"You're doing it all wrong," came the voice of the vampire she was avoiding.
Why? Why did he have to come down here right now? "You're the one that taught it to me," she deadpanned, trying another kick and falling to the floor.
Angel couldn't help his amusement and smiled as he descended the basement stairs to help her to her feet. He watched as she struggled to get up before he could reach her. God this woman was driving him crazy. After they had come back from her apartment that morning, he had shamelessly tried everything he could to get a moment alone with her or steal some type of accidental touch, but it seemed as if she had been trying to avoid him. It was making him insane and driving him to thoughts that he knew were wrong. He had had to summon his ever trusty sense of guilt several times throughout the day to squelch the hope that his future self would never find his way back, but for some reason, looking at her now, the guilt just couldn't or wouldn't rise to the occasion.
"I've got it," Cordelia tried to brush off Angel's hands. She was already tense enough with her brain's warning signal of 'Sunnydale Angel, Sunnydale Angel' going off every time he entered the room. She didn't know if she would be able to handle the full scale code red if he had his hands on her.
"Here, let me show you," he schooled, standing behind her and placing his hands on her hips.
All of Cordelia's warning mechanisms went into high alert. Her body tensed at the feel of his hands on her hips. She should move them off, she knew that, but he was just trying to help. Angel had trained her like this on a daily basis. He was only doing the same. It was completely innocent. She tried to relax her body and listen to his instructions.
"No wonder you're leaning into it so much, you're way too tense. You have to relax the muscles just a bit so you can lean out of the kick a little. It helps to give a more powerful blow to your opponent."
Cordelia moved away from Angel's light but steady grasp, "Oh, that's what I was doing wrong," she said nervously. "I'll make sure I work on that next time."
Angel touched her shoulder before she could walk up the stairs. "I can show you how. To relax I mean."
Cordelia's eyebrows raised in a suspicious look. "How?"
*****
"Do I not teach you any social skills in the next two and half years?" Cordelia asked as she approached Angel from behind.
He cracked a rare smile and turned to face her. "I can't say you haven't tried."
Cordelia's heart warmed at Angel's smile and she returned it with a small but brilliant one. "I'm sorry that we didn't get to talk more this morning. There are so many things I want to know, about the future, and you."
"You wouldn't remember anyway."
"I don't know. I mean, Giles says none of us will remember any of this, but somehow that just doesn't seem right. I've learned so much these last couple of days, about myself and what I want out of life. I just don't think it's possible to forget, not all of it anyway, especially not you."
Angel shifted under Cordelia's optimistic and sure gaze. She was so excepting now of what her future might bring and of him and who she thought he was. Even if it were possible for her to remember, he wondered how that look in her eye might change when she realized the pain and disappointments she would suffer time and again, most of it caused by or because of him. He looked down, unable to match the hopefulness in her eyes. "What's this?" he asked, noticing the garment in Cordelia's hands.
"Oh, it's a raincoat. Wesley let me borrow it."
"You're not wearing it," he answered very sharply. He had just finished congratulated himself earlier on his ability to resist killing Wesley all day and he had barely laughed when the paramedics had wheeled him by with a few bumps and bruises. But if Cordelia put that coat on, mingling her intoxicating scent with that of another man, a man that just yesterday had kissed her, he couldn't be sure that his congratulations might not turn into years of dark guilt and painful brooding. "Here," he began to take off his leather coat. "Take mine. You can wear it because your NOT putting THAT on."
"Put your jacket back on Angel," she placed a reassuring hand on his chest. "I'm not going to wear Wesley's coat."
"Well, good," Angel was caught by surprise, Cordy never did what he said. He was shocked, and a little scared.
"You are," she handed the thick hooded raincoat to Angel.
"What? Why?"
"Weren't you listening to Giles when he was explaining about the spell?"
No. He had grabbed the incantation and the ingredients and spent the rest of the morning concentrating on Cordelia's every move.
"Remember? He said that he could only be sure about the when, not the where."
"So?"
"So, you may be sheltered under a total eclipse here buddy, but I don't think you'll have that luxury there. Who knows where you'll end up? I can't have my . you know .burning up on the sunny streets of ..where are we living now anyway?"
"L.A.," Angel answered as he let Cordelia help him put on the coat.
"Hmm. I always thought I'd go to New York. Ya know, fashion capital of the U.S.. That's where I had been planning on going anyway."
"Well, I'm grateful for whatever changes your mind," he confessed softly as he stood before her now, looking like a complete idiot in the oversized but way too short London Fog.
Cordelia struggled not to laugh as she tried to pull down the sleeves over Angel's large hands. "Well, you'll just have to put them in the pockets," she reasoned, letting go of the material. Then, she leaned up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheek pressing tightly against his. Touching her lips to a spot of bare skin just in front of his ear, she gave him a chaste but loving kiss and then backed away. "Now, hurry up and be safe," she said as she turned and started walking down the sidewalk. "I'll meet you there," she added in a whisper, knowing that Angel could hear her even as she turned the corner.
Angel smiled and dug into his pocket for the ingredients and the spell.
*****
"It's an ancient exercise. People call it Tai Chi now. Of course when I learned it, it was called something else," he remembered.
"You know Tai Chi?" she questioned doubtfully.
"You don't believe me?"
"It's just that I've never seen Angel, I mean you do that before."
"Probably because I usually do it alone. Some people think it's a little eccentric but it helps me focus and clear my mind. Come here and I'll show you some simple moves."
Cordelia paused for a moment, noticing how her heart skipped a beat hearing the words 'show you some moves' come out of Angel's mouth in such smooth and almost sexy manner. She laughed at herself, knowing that it was impossible for this Angel to be flirting with her. He was teaching her the basics of Tai Chi after all, not the Kama Sutra. Oh great, that was a good image. Cordelia, determined to act as if the situation was definitely not flustering her, walked toward Angel, stood beside him and faced the same direction he was. She was actually kind of relieved that at least he had decided to help in a 'non-touching' capacity.
"Now just raise your arms, no not that fast, look at me, very slowly and remember to breath. It's all about breathing."
"This coming from a man who doesn't."
"Shh. Concentrate."
Cordelia followed his lead. Mimicking every motion. She began to relax as her moves became as precise and fluid as Angel's. She glanced at him, matching every graceful sweep. Angel moved his right arm and Cordelia followed. Angel brought his left arm back and Cordelia's fell in synch. He turned to his right and so did she. This had been a wonderful idea. She was already feeling the tension drain from her body. No longer able to see Angel from her position, she began to improvise. She stretched her arms above her head, reminiscent of a ballet move she had learned as a child, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her calming heart rate and smooth breathing both jolted into high gear at the feel of Angel's tender touch and guiding hands from behind. "What are you doing?" she asked but didn't move away.
"It's not a dance move Cordy. It's more like this," he gently laid his hands on top of hers and moved them back in front of her. As he guided her from behind, he whispered his instructions in her ear. "You have to really feel the air around you, use it for resistance."
Cordy tried to relax again. She tried not to concentrate on the smell of his shirt or the way his soft words seemed to vibrate on the back of her ear. She tried to talk some sense into her overactive brain. 'He's just trying to help. He's training me, just like Angel does. Well, not quite like Angel does.' God this was getting confusing. She breathed deeply. It was no use. She couldn't relax. He was making it way too hard for that. If she didn't know him so well, she might have thought that he was using this as a come-on. But the Angel she knew would never be so cheesy as to use this as an excuse to seduce her. The Angel she knew was much too.the Angel she KNEW . wait a minute.
*****
Angel never thought that he would miss the sewers of L.A., but the usually pungent odor smelled like sweet home as he ran east toward the Hypernion. He had done what Cordelia had asked, or ordered, by wearing the raincoat that now flapped fiercely behind his body as he sped through the tunnels underneath the city streets, never stopping to shed the forgotten an unneeded garment. He spied a familiar bend ahead of him. One more minute. The thought of that filled him with a happiness that he would have feared before his soul had been bound.
*****
Over the course of Cordelia's short life she had been hit on and flirted with by just about every type and breed of guy that walked the earth. It had gotten to the point where she could identify each and every line and move that men tried on her now. Except this time. This time she had been fooled, almost. Well, if he thought she was going to just stand here with his arms wrapped around her and his words tickling her ear, sending chills through her body, he had another thing coming. She was going to tell him just what an idiot he was for using training as a way to cop a feel. She was going to let him know that his future self would never stoop to such an immature and asinine level to gain her attention. She was going to turn around and punch him in the nose and call him some kind of witty adjective. Well, that's what she had planned on until she looked up and saw the dirty figure leaning against the wall by the sewer's entrance, his arms crossed and an angry look on his face.
"Please, don't let me interrupt," Angel said, sending a deadly stare to his cleaner mirror image.
*****
Part Fourteen
Angel stood in the entrance of the sewer, shocked into his silent stance by the image of himself touching and caressing Cordy's hands and arms as he stood behind her, watching the paths gently drawn by his fingers on her golden skin. It was his fantasy come to life, what he had never had the courage to act on the dozens of times he'd been in this very basement training her to defend herself. He marveled at the exactness of it, looked at it as if he was in one of the many dreams that made his sleep restless and his ..manhood .known and quite uncomfortable. It was so precise, identical to the picture in his mind. It was the seduction. It was foreplay before the passion. And for a moment it was him, at least that is the trick his mind and heart allowed him to play on himself. Until she looked at him, breaking the spell. Her eyes were full of shock and disbelief, convincing him that this wasn't the beginning of some wet dream about Cordelia, and the arms that encircled her, the hands that teased at her skin with feather soft caresses disguised as wise instructions weren't objects created in his dream world. They were real, and not his. His anger began to rise at his double for touching her, acting as if he had earned the right, and at Cordelia for letting it happen. What was she thinking?
"Angel?" she continued to stare skeptically, as if the sight of him standing there couldn't be trusted as reality.
His twin simply lowered his hands to his sides and looked at Angel as if he was the devil himself, come to escort him personally back to hell.
A terrible thought crossed Angel's mind. When he had arrived in Sunnydale, no one knew that he wasn't his past self. He had had to make himself known to them, tell them his unbelievable story in order for them to realize the truth. If he hadn't, they may have never known. Did Cordy know? Did she believe that it was Angel who had draped his arms so seductively over hers or did she knowingly let a stranger, a version of himself unknown to her, touch her in a seemingly innocent yet painfully intimate way. He couldn't move for fear of his own actions if the latter was true. He waited for her cue, for some clue that would answer his questions and either give his mind relief or his demon permission.
"Angel," this time there was no skepticism, no questioning tone, just his name on her lips, spoken as if it were an answer to a troubling problem plaguing her heart and mind.
*****
"Yo man, what was that?"
"It sounded like a scream."
"It sounded like Cordy," Fred finished as the three friends rushed to the basement stairs.
Each stopped one after another on the top three steps leading down, frozen by the scene below.
Fred's eyes darted around the room, "Oh my gosh."
"He found a way back," Wesley marveled in awe.
"Yeah, but now we got two of 'em on our hands," Gunn reasoned. "You gonna break this up or should I?" he turned to Wesley.
Fred scrunched up her nose, "Which one's which?"
"Well," Wesley chose to answer Fred's question first. "I think it is safe to assume that our Angel is the dirty one who has seemingly been tackled to the ground by Cordy."
The three friends smiled simultaneously at each other and turned their attention back to the sight of a grinning Cordelia, peppering chaste and frantic kisses over Angel's grimy and smudged face.
Angel's anger tried to battle its way back to the forefront of his being as the overwhelming feeling that his soul was experiencing at Cordelia's reaction to his appearance took control. Damn good thing it was permanent now. He took her shoulders in his hands and pushed her back slightly. "Wait a minute," he had to know. "You do know that's not me, right?" he made a gesture with his head to the vampire who now skulked in the darkest shadow of the room, never taking his eyes off of Cordy.
"Who, Mr. Grabbyhands over there. Well duh, yeah. I've been telling him he's not you for three days now." She beamed a smile that seemed to light up and warm the dark and dank room. "You're back. How did you do it? What happened?"
Angel opened his mouth but before he answered Cordelia stood up and offered him a hand as she continued to grin from ear to ear. "You know what," she pre-empted his answer. "It doesn't matter. You're back," she grinned and turned to the forgotten and sulking Sunnydale version of her happiness. "He's back," she reiterated, giving him the first smile that turned his stomach, making him ache to wipe it from her face.
*****
Wesley read Giles' instructions over again, double checking the ingredients of the spell.
"How's it going?" a freshly showered Angel looked over Wesley's shoulder, anxious to send the silent statue of himself back where he belonged.
"I believe we have everything we need," Wesley looked up at the room as if announcing his success. "Now, if you will just step over here," he motioned to the early version of his friend. "We can send you back where you belong," he finished with a courteous smile.
The silent vampire couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "Wait a minute." Everyone was too happy, too happy that he was leaving, too happy to see him go. It hurt and enraged him that he had to leave this place. His home. What if he went back and messed things up? Wesley had said he shouldn't remember anything, but what if he did? What if that memory caused him to do something differently? If he did, would he screw up this future that he longed to be a part of?
He was torn between the hope of remembering every moment spent with Cordy and the knowledge that not remembering would ensure that she would have a place in his life, and more importantly, that he would have a place in hers. That is if his future self would ever suck up the fear and tell this beautiful woman how he felt, how they both felt. He crossed the room and approached Angel. "I need to talk to you before I go." It was more of an order than a request.
Angel looked toward Cordelia. She glanced at Sunnydale Angel, who was now walking into the inner office and looked back at Angel, giving him a reassuring nod. Angel reluctantly followed his past self into the office and shut the door.
He watched as his younger self reach for the shade on the glass window that faced the lobby. "Leave it up," he said in a cold tone. "As sort of an insurance," he explained to himself.
His younger self shook his head in understanding as he stepped back toward the middle of the room and looked out at Cordy staring in. "Insuring we won't kill each other as long as Cordelia can see us?"
Angel, keeping his steely stare, nodded.
"You think that would stop me?" the younger version asked.
"I know it's the only thing stopping me."
Both vampires stared as if daring the other to speak first, to say the wrong thing or make the slightest move.
The older finally broke the silence. "Tai Chi?"
"Worked on Buffy when she refused to touch me."
"Cordelia's not Buffy," Angel reproached.
"You're jealous?"
"."
"Of me?"
Angel gave his naïve image a cold stare.
"But I'm you."
"Not yet you're not. You've got a lot to learn before you can be me."
The younger Angel looked at his older self with fear and resignation. "You're right. I don't know how to be this. I have no idea how to hold on to something that I've never had, never deserved."
Angel gave an indignant chuckle. "You think I deserve all of this? I'm probably less worthy of this life than you are right now. I've hurt every one of those people out there more times than I want to admit, emotionally and physically. I'm not some righteous warrior who's finally getting his due. I'm just a little wiser. I know what I do and don't want anymore and I'll do anything it takes to get and keep the things I do. Anything. Does that sound like some kind of moral do-gooder to you?"
"Cordelia seems to think."
"Cordy thinks I'm some kind of champion, a hero," he laughed to himself. "Truth is, she's the hero. She's saved me from myself. I'm here because she believes in me, sees something in me that I'm still not quite aware of yet. She was my friend before I knew how to be one to her. Cordy's friendship helped me learn to love my son and the love I feel for her ." Angel paused, he'd never said it, not aloud. "The love I feel for Cordy secured my soul."
Angel's counterpart looked at him with disbelief. "You're soul is permanent?"
Angel nodded.
"For how long? When does it happen?"
"Last year. It was. a ." he stammered.
"Dark time," the younger said with understanding. "You've had a permanent soul for this long and you still haven't told her how you feel, how we feel about her? You are a dumbass."
"What?"
"How the hell am I supposed to go back and trust you? You said you knew what you wanted now, that you'd do anything to get and keep it, but that's bullshit. You're afraid."
"It's not that simple."
"Yes, it really is. She loves you, asshole. If you don't tell her soon, let her know how you feel, some jerk off's gonna come along and steal her away from you."
"So you think I should tell her?"
The Sunnydale resident stood and looked at his future self with disgust, "Don't fuck this up for me," he half pleaded and half threatened.
"This isn't your life."
"No, but it will be," he said as he abruptly ended their conversation by opening the office door. "I'm ready," he directed toward Wesley. He was too furious to continue trying to talk some sense into his future self. The prospect of having a permanent soul filled him with such hope, but the fact that he would be so stupid as to have wasted a year with the knowledge that he was free to be happy, to love Cordelia, made him boil with anger at himself. He walked to Cordelia, uncaring now of what his older self might think or do. He looked at her smile. It wasn't big and bright anymore. Not for him. "I want you to know something before I go."
Cordelia's smile faded at his serious stare and he leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear that even Angel couldn't hear. He backed away and turned with a smug grin and stepped to the spot of the room indicated by Wesley.
Oh shit. What had he told her? Did she know about the soul? Angel looked at the smug grin on the face of the now disappearing vampire. Fear and anger consumed him. He was supposed to be the one to tell Cordy that his soul was permanent. He'd been practicing his speech over and over in his mind. For the last eleven months, six days, thirteen hours. God, he WAS a dumbass. He looked at Cordelia's confused stare. He was going to have to clean up this mess fast, before that confused look turned into one of hurt at his not telling her sooner. That was it, the answer was clear. He'd come clean, tell her everything. Immediately.
Angel advanced toward Cordelia in long, purposeful strides. He grabbed her by the hand and headed for the stairs.
"Angel?" Wesley asked after his friend.
"We'll be back," he answered over his shoulder, leading a stunned Cordelia to his suite upstairs.
*****
Angel stood in the middle of the now abandoned parking lot. The ambulances and fire trucks had gone long ago and he looked at the keys in his hand. Chicago had seemed like such a great idea three days ago. Although he had been there during the depression, he'd always felt a fondness for the town. Now he just couldn't see himself there. It didn't feel right some how.
He tried to shake a nagging feeling as he opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. Los Angeles? He had lived there too, he had lived a lot of places, but Los Angeles had been one of the worst. The sound of the ignition echoed in the empty lot as Angel tried to understand why every part of him felt an urge, a desire, to be in a town he swore he'd never return to again. It was as if it called to him, promising him something that he couldn't quite define but knew that he'd been searching for. Home.
He put his foot on the brake, placed the car in gear and headed for L.A.
*****
Cordelia packed her last bag and looked at the bus ticket to New York for the fifth time. It had seemed like such a great idea three days ago. She tried to remind herself of all of the reasons she had wanted to go in the first place but now they all seemed wrong. For some reason she couldn't get the ridiculous notion out of her head that L.A. was the place she should be. It made some sense actually. New York might be the Fashion Capital but she would have a much better chance being discovered in L.A..
Cordelia picked up her overstuffed suitcases and headed out of the empty house, wondering how much it was going to cost to change her ticket.
*****
The click of the lock on the bedroom door, echoed through the room. Angel turned to face a still puzzled and mute Cordelia. Dumbass. He was sick of that word, sick of being weak and afraid when it came to Cordy. He wasn't a dumbass, he was afraid, terrified even of what confessing everything might do to her, to their relationship. The truth was that he didn't know if he would have ever told her, and even if he did, it wasn't supposed to be like this. It should have been over a romantic candlelit dinner or as they were both smiling and playing with Connor on the floor. Oh well, so much for romance and Kodak family moments. The truth was out and now it was time to explain, in his own words.
He walked to her cautiously and lead her to the bed, seating her beside him. Taking a deep breath and cursing his impatient younger self for forcing him into this when he wasn't ready, he began, "Cordy, what he told you down there."
Cordelia opened her mouth, finally it seemed she was ready to speak but Angel silenced her with the raise of his hand. He couldn't risk the chance that her words might change what he had to say.
"Please Cordy, just listen. What he told you down there, I should have told you months ago. It was just so hard, not knowing if you'd ever forgive me for firing all of you, for turning my back on my friends, my family. When I did get you back, I couldn't tell you, not then. I had to concentrate on winning back your trust. My happiness, my soul, came second to that."
He looked at the confusion still plaguing her face and decided to start from the beginning.
"Cordy," he touched her hand and gently lifted it into his own. "When you first showed up in L.A. you drove me insane. I thought that the reason I was drawn to you was because you were weak and alone. I thought because I knew you, because we had a connection, that it was my duty to protect you from the big bad world, be some kind of dark hero for you. I thought without me, you'd never survive.
"When Vocah cursed you, and you laid so helpless and lost in the hospital, a revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. You weren't the weak one, I was. I was the one who couldn't survive without you. I swore that night that I would always keep you safe, no matter the price.
"When Darla came, I was foolish enough to think that price was giving you up. Abandoning you for your own good."
For the first time the confusion was wiped from Cordelia's face, replaced by hurt and anger.
He took a calming breath and continued, "When I finally pushed hard enough, knew that I had probably lost you for good, I snapped. It was one of the biggest of a long list of mistakes in my existence. When Darla came to me," he looked away from her, unable to withstand the judgment and disappointment he knew were in her eyes. "I welcomed her, not for what she wanted, but for what I wanted, death. She was my coward's way out of a world that didn't want me, a world that included you.
"When it was.over, I couldn't understand what had went wrong. I was still here and Angelus was.gone. I didn't really understand how or why it happened, but I just knew. I went to see Lorne and he read me and told me that what I was feeling was right in a sense. He said that Angelus was still there, that as long as I was a vampire he would be, but that I controlled him now. Then he started talking about rainbows and red shoes, and how I had had the power all along. I really didn't get that part."
"You're soul is safe, it's permanent?"
"Isn't that what.I saw him lean over and whisper it to you downstairs. That's what he told you. Right?"
"You're weirdo body double bent forward and kissed me on the ear. It shocked me so much I couldn't even tear into him with some witty insult."
"That son-of-a . he kissed you?"
"You're soul is permanent," she said with an accusing tone as if he'd just committed some horrible crime.
"You're not happy," he said, his heart beginning to sink. Maybe she didn't think he deserved it after the things he had done. She was right if she thought that, he didn't.
Cordelia stood and began to pace in front of him as if trying to think of a proper punishment for such an offense. Angel's soul was bound, permanent. He could be happy. He was free. She should be happy for him. But she wasn't. She tried to be, she searched for a feeling, any feeling that could be close to happiness or relief, but all she could find was fear. Angel was free, free to be happy, free to love, and free to leave. That's what scared her the most. What if that is what he wanted? To leave. Sadness joined fear at the thought of that possibility. He had just been in Sunnydale, with a permanent soul. With Buffy. But he had known about his soul for much longer than that. Maybe this was where he wanted to be. She could imagine Buffy's response at hearing the news of his soul. "We can be happy now Angel. Stay with me, where you belong," she mocked the Slayer in her mind. She had probably cried and pouted and used every weakness she knew of his to convince him to stay, whether he wanted to or not. Well, no matter how much Cordy's heart broke at the possibility of Angel leaving, no matter how much she loved him and wanted him to stay, she wouldn't, couldn't play those games with him. She loved him, but if leaving was what would make him happy, he had to know that he was free.
"You should have told us a long time ago, Angel. I mean, this changes everything."
And there it was. His fear sprouted wings and flew directly in his face. He watched her as she paced, obviously bothered by what he had said. She had said it changed everything. That was supposed to be a good thing. It was supposed to change their relationship, take it to a new level, changing a beautiful friendship into a passionate, all consuming love. Change had been a good thing, an excellent description for what was to come. Until Cordy had said it with disappointment in her voice. Angel put his face in his hands and rubbed at it roughly, as if trying to wash away the multitude of emotions that bombarded him. "I know Cordy, it does. I'm sorry."
She closed her eyes and continued to pace, "It's alright," she soothed. God help her, he was breaking her heart into a million pieces and she still couldn't stand the sight of him in pain. After all, he had confessed to her how much their friendship had meant, how he couldn't get along without her. At least she still had that. That was something. Her mind began to work overtime as she brainstormed, trying to find a way that Angel could be happy without turning his back on the mission. "Well, Sunnydale's only a little over two hours away. We could all visit and I could call you for the really nasty visions."
Angel shot up from the bed, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her monotonous pacing to halt. It was worse than he thought. He'd been afraid that she might not be happy, might not return his feelings, but he never expected her to run away, especially to Sunnydale. "You are not going to Sunnydale."
"I know that," he didn't have to rub it in. "But you are, and that means."
"No, I'm not Cordy."
"You're free Angel," damn it, she tried not to let the tears in her eyes show.
That's the change she meant, that was what disappointed her. Angel's fear ebbed away as waves of hope began to crash into his heart. "Yes, I'm free," he said smoothly in a whisper just inches from her face. "Free to be happy, to dare to relish the thought of being a father to Connor, and to love you. You Cordy. I love you."
Cordy stared blankly back at him.
"Cordelia, I just told you that I'm in love with you."
She nodded her head dumbly.
"Please say something, anything. 'I hate you, I love you, let's just be friends' anything, just talk to me please."
He loved her. He loved HER. Cordelia smiled and she flung her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear, "I love you, Angel. I don't know when it happened, when I actually fell. I just know that when you were gone, there was this possibility hanging over us that you might never come back. That's when I realized it. That's when I knew," she pushed back, the smile still on her face and her eyes glistening.
Angel brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek and looked at her, really looked at her.
Cordelia swallowed, Angel's eyes were so full. They expressed joy, love, want, need, and desire all in one breathtaking dark stare. She unconsciously licked her lips, her mouth aching for his to cover it, consume it until she struggled for air.
She loved him. She had said it and he had heard it. It wasn't some sweet fantasy or hot sweaty dream. She loved him and now he truly was free. He leaned down and captured her mouth, devouring it with a desperate and passionate kiss. His lips left hers and his arms tightened around her. He looked back in her eyes. "You really love me," it wasn't a question, more of a bewildering and unbelievable statement of bizarre fact.
She brushed her knuckles gently against his cheek and then touched the palm of her hand to the side of his face. "Completely," she breathed.
Angel closed his eyes and kissed the palm of her hand. "God, Cordy," his eyes were still closed. "You're gonna have to take the lead here. I don't know if I can take this nice and slow." He meant it, his self control was waning. Her admission of love had been his undoing. She had set him free and like a caged bird or a gated race horse, he was ready to bolt, to speed toward that freedom as fast as he could.
Cordelia cupped his face again, brushing her thumb across his cheek. "I don't think nice or slow defines either of us very well," she answered, aroused by the bare feelings he was laying open to her.
Angel's mouth instantly covered hers again. Cordelia's lips parted, welcoming every caress and taste. She shivered as his hands glided down her sides, his fingers gently wrapping themselves in the hem of her t- shirt. She felt his featherlike touches on her skin as the cotton garment was pushed slowly upward and she instinctively raised her arms, breaking the kiss only for the second it took to pull the shirt over her head.
God she was so beautiful. She stood there in front of him, old sweat pants, a sports bra and a messy pony tail and to Angel she was the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen. He sunk slowly to his knees and pulled the tie of her sweats loose and sliding them over her hips, prompted her to step free from them.
She waited for him to stand again, but he leaned forward and dropped a gentle kiss on her belly, her hip, and let his hands slide slowly and lovingly down the length of her thigh. "You scared me," he whispered.
She placed a hand on his head and began to comb her fingers through his messy hair, trying to sooth any doubts he could possibly have.
"When you started talking about Sunnydale I thought.I thought you were running away, I thought you were going to run and hide from me." He buried his face against the skin that covered her taut stomach and breathed in her scent. Hooking his thumbs inside of the material of her panties he robbed her of them much quicker than the sweats. His eyes drunk her in as he raised to his feet and circled his arms around her, his hands craftily unhooking the last little scrap of modesty she had left. After tossing the bra aside, he turned and looked at the masterpiece that stood before him.
Cordelia studied his predatory gaze as it roved over her body. Suddenly feeling the bareness of her heart and the nakedness of her body, she tried to cover herself with her arms.
"No," Angel finally touched her, guiding her arms away from her body. "Never hide from me, Cordy," he gave his gentle order and looked back into her eyes. "I want to know you, all of you. Besides, haven't we both been hiding from each other long enough?"
Cordelia tried to relax her arms at her sides as she bit her lip and blushed darkly. When she felt that she could move her hands steadily, she lifted them to Angel's shirt and began to unbutton it as gracefully as her nervousness would allow.
Christ, she was going too slow. The way her delicate hands tickled the bottom of his neck as they slowly opened his top button was driving him crazy. He reached down and began undoing the rest from the bottom up, meeting her at button number two. She smiled at him and pushed the shirt from his shoulders and onto the floor.
He really wanted to watch her as she undressed him, as her elegant hands unbuckled him, divesting him of anything that now stood as a barrier between her body and his. But his eagerness to have her, to make her call his name, to show her in anyway she would let him just how much he loved her, was just too strong to fight.
Cordelia's eyes widened at the speed of which Angel removed his boots and pants, his eyes never leaving hers in the second it took to discard them. She gave a small squeak as he swept her up in his arms and laid her on the bed. Cordy looked up at Angel, her Angel, hovering above her.
Angel's mind swarmed with all of his fantasies, some tenderly passionate, some not. He wanted them all, each fantasy, each dream right here and now. He stilled, hovering over her. What did she want? What would she allow? She was smiling again, not the brilliant megawatt smile that lit up the room and his life. It was a small, loving, knowing smile that said 'Yes'. It was permission. He lowered some of his weight onto her, his aching want pressing hard against her thigh. 'Tenderly,' he told himself. That is the way it would always start with her, tenderly and lovingly.
Cordelia wrapped her strong slender arms around his neck and kissed him. Angel's mouth left hers and began to explore her body with gentle precision. His tongue lashed out tenderly, tasting the curve of her neck, her shoulder, the tight pert peak of one breast, then the other. He buried his face in the valley between them, kissing and nipping his way back to her mouth.
Her eyes closed and a soft sigh of pleasure escaped her lips when she felt his arousal touching her center, waiting to be invited in. "I love you," his voice was vulnerable and shaky, ragged with desperate longing. It was the secret pass word that opened her to him. He nudged himself inside of her, pushing himself deeper with each lazy, wonderful, agonizing stroke.
Her heat scorched him. Their bodies rocked together, sighing and gasping with the encompassing pleasure of each gliding thrust. He had to close his eyes to keep his control as they both succumbed to a frantic, surging rhythm that caressed him, pushed him to the edge.
*****
Each time he had touched her that night, it had started out the same, slow and tender, eventually escalating into something desperate and primal, leaving them both spent but wanting and needing more. She had lost count of the number of times she had screamed his name, melting into a pool of trembling nerves. At some point each climatic orgasm had blended into one endless shuddering wave.
Cordy tried to will herself to wake and stretched out her hand sleepily, searching for the missing vampire who had put her in such a state of exhaustion. Finding the spot beside her empty, she opened one eye, then another and propped herself up on one elbow.
She smiled as she watched Angel slowly pacing the room wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and gently cradling his son in his strong arms. "When did he wake up?" she asked in a whisper.
Angel walked to the side of the bed, "He didn't. I just needed to hold him for a while. I missed him."
Cordelia smiled. "I think he missed you too. Why don't you bring him to bed. We all need to get some sleep," she scooted over and pulled back the edge of the covers. Angel laid Connor beside her and slid in after him. He watched his son's cherub face, fixed in peaceful slumber. He looked at Cordy as she smiled at him again, whispering "I love you, Angel," before slipping back to sleep. He stared at the two most important beings in his life. He laid his arm protectively over his son and caressed Cordelia's face with his hand. How had he gotten so lucky?
She could see him. He was far away and veiled in a misty fog, but it was him. His tall dark frame silhouetted in the moonlight. She wanted to go to him but couldn't move. She called his name, "Angel?" He didn't answer but began to move slowly toward her. "Angel?" she called again. His face became clearer, his features more defined as he walked through the fog. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Cordelia?" he called, but it wasn't his voice. Suddenly his broad shape shifted, morphed into a smaller one. "Cordelia?" the voice called again. A dread filled Cordelia's heart, "Wesley?" she asked. Her dream turned black and Wesley's voice was the only thing now that filled her mind. "Cordelia," his voice called once more, now more insistent than before. Cordelia's eyes slowly opened and the cramp in her neck began to ache.
"Good lord, Cordelia. Have you been here all night?"
"You mean its morning again?"
"When did you arrive?"
"I came by yesterday morning, right after you dropped me off. I . I just needed some answers, about the poison . and the cure," she answered, now blushing at her situation as she looked at the disheveled office around her. "What time is it?" she stretched.
"6:30. We were all going to meet here. Today is the high school graduation and we need to prepare. I must be the first to arrive."
Cordelia stretched one last time and forced her fuzzy mind to clear. She turned in Giles' swivel chair and looked at Wesley standing beside the desk, studying his gentle eyes and questioning brow. Angel had been right. If she didn't talk to Wesley now, make him understand her true feelings for him, things could get confusing and a little weird. She didn't want that. Wesley was her friend, someone she could trust. "So, we're alone then?" she asked in a soft voice.
Wesley's heart began to race. He had thought that his second attempt could wait until after the battle. He'd hoped that, if they all survived, he and Cordelia could start things fresh. They'd been bombarded with poison, spells, slayers, near death, not to mention vampires.a vampire. He was sure that if he could get her away from all of that, just for a moment, that things might turn out differently than the kiss had. He had been scared, she had been sick, that's why it had felt so wrong, so platonic. Yes, that was it. Now, he found himself alone with her. He had come in early to study more on the possible side effects of the spell and more importantly, to prove his point that it had only taken Angel's love to cure her. It didn't have to be reciprocated. he hoped. Now he was here with her, alone, and happy about it. "Yes, the others won't be here for a while yet."
"Good," she breathed in deeply. She stood and lead Wesley by the hand to the library outside, sitting down on one of the lounging sofas. Wesley sat beside her and patiently waited to make his move. "Yesterday morning I was confused," she began. "I had been poisoned, near death, and woke up to an . awkward situation. Things are just . confusing for me right now."
"It's perfectly alright, Cordelia. I was a little out of sorts myself," he reassured. "I don't believe that either of us knew exactly what we were doing."
Cordelia smiled. Wesley was going to make this easier for her. He really was a good friend. "I'm glad you see things the same way I do. You know I am all for the hocus pocus stuff when it's saving my life, but choosing my destiny for me is another thing."
The smile of anticipation that had been slowly forming on Wesley's face began to fade away. He looked back to the office, remembering the study session he had had with Giles and Buffy. She'd come for answers and found them. His lie suddenly crept into his mind. "Your destiny?" he tried to ask with innocence.
"Don't pretend like you don't know. I saw the tablet you used to translate the text on. Plus I had a little talk with Angel," she finished a little disheartened.
Oh God. Angel had told her the truth. But if she knew, why was she being so nice about it? Wesley shifted uncomfortably, "Cordelia, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept the truth from you." Wesley paused, he should have never lied. "I came back early to the mansion, after you were cured. I saw you and Angel, when you first awoke," he emphasized, hoping she understood his meaning.
"My awkward situation?"
"Indeed. Knowing the implications of the spell, I acted . protectively of course. I guess I was afraid that if you knew about the 'true love' clause that some part of you might think that you were forced to follow it, no matter what your true feelings. I suppose I didn't tell you about it because I didn't want it to be true."
"You didn't? I mean, you don't think that the two of us."
"Of course not. Why should I ever want something like that to happen?"
"Thank God," she sighed. "But we're still friends, right?"
This question seemed out of place. "Friends?" he asked, wondering why she would ask him if she and Angel had a friendship.
"Well, yeah. I mean you and I may not be soul mates or destined loves or anything, but we're still gonna be friends. Right?" she beamed.
Wesley felt sick. She didn't know. Not everything anyway. He had told her that he was responsible for her recovery and, believing that, she had read the translated passage thinking it pertained to the two of them. She'd mistakenly thought that she was destined to be with him, spending the last twenty-four hours believing it and hoping it wasn't true. Wesley's heart sank, disappointment consumed him. He was such a fool. He'd come here looking for proof that she could love him and she had come here looking for proof that she didn't. He couldn't let this go on, he had to let her know the truth. "Cordelia, I .." he paused, unsure how to set things right.
"What is it?" she smiled light heartedly now and leaned in closer as if urging him to continue.
"There's something I want to tell you, something I must tell you." Wesley paused again, questioning himself mentally, debating the direct ' I lied' approach over the long, drawn out explanation of ego versus fear.
Cordelia tried to keep the smile on her face, her patience wearing thin and her muscles aching from a night spent sleeping in Giles' office. She wanted to go home, crawl in bed and sleep for days. Hurry up Wesley. She smiled a little tighter, "Wesley, it's okay, just say it."
The direct approach it would be. "Cordelia, I l."
*****
Angel had gotten some sleep. Although, he wondered to himself if the full twenty-eight minutes that he'd managed to drift off into fitful slumber would sustain him through the battle. He remembered the fight, it wasn't easy. The mayor had recruited just about every demon in town to help him and even without Faith it had been a struggle to defeat him the first time.
He rounded the corner of the school hallway, sticking close to the wall to avoid the few morning rays that broke through the windows. His mind drifted back to the thought that had made his small nap anything but restful. Cordelia. Cordelia and Wesley. He would not get angry. Wesley wasn't taking something that was his, because she never belonged to him in the first place. So what if they were in love with each other. It wasn't his business that Cordelia preferred a tweed covered coward over him. Alright, that was a little harsh. Wesley was a friend and over all a good man. He should be happy that two friends had found their soul mate, their destiny. That was a good thing. It was good that he had convinced her to go and talk to Wesley. Yeah, that was real good. They were probably together right now in some intimate setting, confessing their innermost feelings for each other. Well, at least he wouldn't have to witness that precious moment. Trying to keep focused on the mission and get home, Angel pushed the wants of his heart and soul to the side as he approached the library doors.
His sense of smell kicked in just before his hearing. He stood frozen, his hand on the swinging door, listening to the moment he was so sure he'd never have to hear.
"Cordelia I."
What a stammering idiot.
"What is it?"
"There's something I want to tell you, something I must tell you."
Go ahead. Say it. Just. One. More. Word. So I can rip your head from your shoulders.
"Wesley, its okay, just say it."
Yes, Wesley, just say it.
"Cordelia, I l.."
Cordelia and Wesley both jumped at the sound of cracking wood as both library doors swung violently against the adjacent walls. "Please, don't let me interrupt," Angel's voice sounded almost silent and definitely deadly. His frightening gaze left them as he crossed the room to the weapons cage, chanting a mantra in his mind. IwillnotkillWesley. IwillnotkillWesley.
Cordelia watched Angel as he crossed the room. Closing her eyes and with a deep sigh of frustration she turned back to Wesley before opening them again. "Can we talk about this later?" she all but begged.
"Cordelia, what went on between you and Angel?"
"I thought you saw it. You said you were there."
"No," he continued in a whisper. "Yesterday, you said you spoke with him. What did he say to you?"
Cordelia let out a deep breath, closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. "Wesley, I'm tired. I'm too tired to figure out what you're trying to tell me, I'm too tired to figure out what's going on in this screwed up head of mine, and I'm certainly too tired to figure out just what has made 'Mr. Sunshine' over there so mad. He's crazy. You do know that, don't you?"
Wesley couldn't believe what he was about to say. He didn't trust Angel. Why should he? But for some reason it seemed right, the answer to all of this confusion. "Of course we can discuss this later. I have to return to my apartment. I seem to have forgotten a book that Mr. Giles insisted I bring. He also rang me this morning and told me that he now has the ingredient for the spell to send Angel back to his time. Would you be so kind as to tell him for me before you leave?" Without waiting for an answer from Cordelia Wesley stood and left the library.
"Fantastic," Cordelia complained as she stood and stomped over to the opened cage. Angel, his back facing the opening, continued to select his weapons. "Ahem," she tried. "Wesley said that Giles has the ingredient for your little spell."
Angel continued his task, acting as if she wasn't there.
This was new. Cordelia Chase was not used to being ignored. She readied for a biting remark, something that would really strike him where it hurts. Nothing came to mind. What should have made her mad and defensive only made her curious, and a little sad. Angel was going back. Going home. That, for some strange and unexplained reason, made her sad. She couldn't understand it and she couldn't understand why he was ignoring her. Just yesterday he had said they were friends, that he'd always be her friend, no matter what. But, didn't that mean she had to be a friend too? She thought about the tone of voice she had just used and the way she had stomped to the cage. "Giles told us all, right after he found the spell, that time should set itself right. None of us will remember that any of this ever happened, except for you of course," she said with genuine concern.
Angel continued his actions but spoke, "It's probably for the best," he said quietly.
"Us forgetting you, or you remembering us?"
"Both actually."
"I guess it's good and bad. For one thing, I'll forget all about being poisoned. That's a good thing."
Angel placed the hand axe on the shelf and stood motionless, unable to turn and face her. He was glad that memory would be taken from her. She would have too many as it was. "It would be good to forget that," he answered, wishing it could be wiped from his memory also.
"But it also means I won't remember waking up in the mansion," she said as if she were talking only to herself.
"."
"Or the kiss," she finished, dreamily reflecting on that strange but passionate moment.
Angel's cooled temper flared again as he picked up the hand axe and flung it into his bag. He turned finally, facing her with a sarcastic look, "Well, I'd think you'd be happy about that too. I mean, it was so horrible," he said, grabbing his bag and pushing past her.
Cordelia knew she had made a mistake even bringing it up. He had made his feelings for her quite clear the night before. She tried to fight back astonishment and tears at his insult. "Horrible?" she asked following him into the library.
Angel turned quickly, nearly bumping into her. "You know that kiss was not one of my best. I mean, I watched you almost die right in front of my eyes. After Giles and Wesley found out how to cure you, I had to go and get Faith's . information that I needed. It was almost morning by the time I got back and performed the ritual and it was pretty damn painful for me too. I was exhausted and a little delirious so it's really not fair for you to .."
"You cured me?"
"What?" he answered, frustrated at her interruption.
"You. You cured me? You performed the ritual?"
"I thought we covered this last night."
"No, last night I said . what did I say last night?"
"Last night you said you could never love the man who cured you," Angel reminded her of her painful words.
"Right. Wesley."
"No. Me."
"No. Wesley," she said very slowly.
"But Wesley didn't cure you," Angel placed his bag on the floor, a flicker of hope flashed through his body as he watched Cordelia struggle to piece together the truth.
Cordelia's mind worked on the puzzling events of the last couple of days. Wesley never said he performed the spell. Of course, he never said he didn't. Cordelia looked at Angel and walked to the sofa she and Wesley had just shared. She sat and began to talk to herself. "That must have been what he was trying to tell me," she reasoned.
Angel walked over and took a seat next to her. "Who was trying to tell you?"
"Wesley, we were sitting here and he was trying to say something and then you came in and scared the crap out of us. After I told him how I felt about him he must have known that I thought the ritual was performed by him."
"But it wasn't," he wanted to make that point clear.
"Well duh, I know that now."
"But you have feelings for him anyway, don't you?" Angel prepared himself for the blow.
"Of course."
"Oh."
"He's my friend."
"Friend?" he tested the word again, wanting her reassurance.
"Yes. Friend," she emphasized.
"So you're not in love with him?"
"No. Definitely not," she stated with surety. "I'm so embarrassed. He must have known how confused I was about all of this when I rambled on about the two of us never being 'true loves' or 'destined' to be together. That must be why he sent me in there to tell you about Giles and the ingredient. He must have thought I would figure it out after talking to you."
"Wesley told you to come talk to me?"
Cordelia nodded her head.
Wesley was a good man.
Suddenly the words 'true love' and 'destiny' began to swim around in Cordelia's head again. Angel had saved her. He had cured her. Angel. Her true love? Her . destiny? "So, you're the one who fit the part huh? My ." she couldn't say it. Not out loud.
Angel reminded himself that Cordelia would not remember anything he was about to say. "That only defines me, Cordelia. My feelings for you, or you two and a half years in the future."
"So, in the future you and me," she waved her hand between the two of them.
"Well, not exactly."
"Oh." Of course not.
"I haven't actually gotten around to telling you yet."
"Well what the hell are you waiting for?" she whined.
"I don't know. I guess I'm scared you won't feel the same. We become such good friends, best friends. If I tell you and you don't feel the same way, it might ruin that."
"Well can't you tell if I feel the same way or not? Haven't I given off any signs or anything? Have we even kissed?"
Angel gave her a hard look.
"I mean in the future, dumbass," her voice began to rise.
"No, but if your definition of our kiss the other night is any indication of how you feel in the future, I can safely say that that is not a good sign," his tone rose to match hers.
"What definition?"
"You know, horrible."
Cordelia wanted to laugh. He thought that she thought their kiss had been horrible. It was almost funny. She gave him a small smile and her voice softened, "It wasn't horrible Angel. It was . breathtaking."
"Breathtaking huh?"
"Yeah," she smiled.
"But you kept talking about the kiss, how horrible it was."
"Oh, it was. The drool and the grabby hands. Wesley and I were definitely not meant for each other."
"Wesley kissed you?"
Cordelia nodded her head as if nothing was wrong.
"After you left the mansion?"
"Yeah," she said, wondering why Angel was acting like it was such a big deal. She had said it was horrible.
Angel tried to suppress the mantra that had plagued him earlier by reminding himself that Wesley was a good man. A good. Dead. Man.
Part Thirteen
The battle had been fierce, but remarkably it had progressed and ended much like it had the first time. Angel stood amid the ambulances and fire trucks, listening to the authorities and their blind excuses for why the catastrophe had happened. He placed his hand over his coat pocket, double checking for the ingredient and incantation needed to send him back home. He was ready, or so he thought. He looked around the chaotic scene, trying to catch one more glimpse of Cordelia. He didn't really understand why, he knew she was safe. He'd seen her right after the explosion. It was time to go. So what was he waiting for?
Angel scanned the crowd, his eyes settling on the figure that stood at the opposite end of the parking lot. Buffy. She looked back at him, mirroring his still, calm stare. A few days ago he had hated her for what she had done. Now, standing here amid all of this destruction, she looked so young, almost childlike. A revelation finally came to him. She was never like a child, she was a child. What was it her mother had told him? That she was a young girl in love that couldn't see past tomorrow when it came to him. He had always known that leaving her had been the best thing for him, but he had often wondered if it had been the best thing for her.
He remembered standing just like this the first time, afraid to leave, guilt consuming him over the thought that without his help and protection, the Slayer might not survive. Didn't survive. His mind repeated the questions he had asked himself in this spot two and a half years ago. Should he stay? Should he give up finding his place, his hopes, his life, to keep the Slayer safe? Was she too weak to stand alone? He watched as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. With her head held high, she gave Angel a tight smile, and this time, Buffy turned and walked away. Angel's guilt faded. He had no doubt that what he had done was right for her. Buffy was strong, she already had everything she needed even before he came along. It would have been wrong for him to have given up his place, his life, just to stay in Sunnydale to be the Slayer's faithful but deadly weapon. She didn't need him anymore than he needed her. She already had a destiny.
"So, you're just going to leave without even saying goodbye?" an annoyed voice asked.
Yeah the Slayer had a destiny. And so did he.
*****
Cordy's foot ached but she definitely could not go back upstairs, not yet. She had made peace with Sunnydale Angel. She had even started calling him just 'Angel' aloud. Of course she made sure she mentally put the 'Sunnydale' before it. But she still couldn't stomach his 'assimilation', as Wesley called it, into their lives, into Angel's life. He had said he wanted to go back, that he needed to in order to have what he wanted. He'd tried to make her believe that earlier today. But, Cordy had always been the kind of person who believed in actions over words and right now 'Sunnydale's' actions screamed, "I'm staying right where I am." Cordelia stood straight and focused on the punching bag in front of her and tried the spin kick again.
"You're doing it all wrong," came the voice of the vampire she was avoiding.
Why? Why did he have to come down here right now? "You're the one that taught it to me," she deadpanned, trying another kick and falling to the floor.
Angel couldn't help his amusement and smiled as he descended the basement stairs to help her to her feet. He watched as she struggled to get up before he could reach her. God this woman was driving him crazy. After they had come back from her apartment that morning, he had shamelessly tried everything he could to get a moment alone with her or steal some type of accidental touch, but it seemed as if she had been trying to avoid him. It was making him insane and driving him to thoughts that he knew were wrong. He had had to summon his ever trusty sense of guilt several times throughout the day to squelch the hope that his future self would never find his way back, but for some reason, looking at her now, the guilt just couldn't or wouldn't rise to the occasion.
"I've got it," Cordelia tried to brush off Angel's hands. She was already tense enough with her brain's warning signal of 'Sunnydale Angel, Sunnydale Angel' going off every time he entered the room. She didn't know if she would be able to handle the full scale code red if he had his hands on her.
"Here, let me show you," he schooled, standing behind her and placing his hands on her hips.
All of Cordelia's warning mechanisms went into high alert. Her body tensed at the feel of his hands on her hips. She should move them off, she knew that, but he was just trying to help. Angel had trained her like this on a daily basis. He was only doing the same. It was completely innocent. She tried to relax her body and listen to his instructions.
"No wonder you're leaning into it so much, you're way too tense. You have to relax the muscles just a bit so you can lean out of the kick a little. It helps to give a more powerful blow to your opponent."
Cordelia moved away from Angel's light but steady grasp, "Oh, that's what I was doing wrong," she said nervously. "I'll make sure I work on that next time."
Angel touched her shoulder before she could walk up the stairs. "I can show you how. To relax I mean."
Cordelia's eyebrows raised in a suspicious look. "How?"
*****
"Do I not teach you any social skills in the next two and half years?" Cordelia asked as she approached Angel from behind.
He cracked a rare smile and turned to face her. "I can't say you haven't tried."
Cordelia's heart warmed at Angel's smile and she returned it with a small but brilliant one. "I'm sorry that we didn't get to talk more this morning. There are so many things I want to know, about the future, and you."
"You wouldn't remember anyway."
"I don't know. I mean, Giles says none of us will remember any of this, but somehow that just doesn't seem right. I've learned so much these last couple of days, about myself and what I want out of life. I just don't think it's possible to forget, not all of it anyway, especially not you."
Angel shifted under Cordelia's optimistic and sure gaze. She was so excepting now of what her future might bring and of him and who she thought he was. Even if it were possible for her to remember, he wondered how that look in her eye might change when she realized the pain and disappointments she would suffer time and again, most of it caused by or because of him. He looked down, unable to match the hopefulness in her eyes. "What's this?" he asked, noticing the garment in Cordelia's hands.
"Oh, it's a raincoat. Wesley let me borrow it."
"You're not wearing it," he answered very sharply. He had just finished congratulated himself earlier on his ability to resist killing Wesley all day and he had barely laughed when the paramedics had wheeled him by with a few bumps and bruises. But if Cordelia put that coat on, mingling her intoxicating scent with that of another man, a man that just yesterday had kissed her, he couldn't be sure that his congratulations might not turn into years of dark guilt and painful brooding. "Here," he began to take off his leather coat. "Take mine. You can wear it because your NOT putting THAT on."
"Put your jacket back on Angel," she placed a reassuring hand on his chest. "I'm not going to wear Wesley's coat."
"Well, good," Angel was caught by surprise, Cordy never did what he said. He was shocked, and a little scared.
"You are," she handed the thick hooded raincoat to Angel.
"What? Why?"
"Weren't you listening to Giles when he was explaining about the spell?"
No. He had grabbed the incantation and the ingredients and spent the rest of the morning concentrating on Cordelia's every move.
"Remember? He said that he could only be sure about the when, not the where."
"So?"
"So, you may be sheltered under a total eclipse here buddy, but I don't think you'll have that luxury there. Who knows where you'll end up? I can't have my . you know .burning up on the sunny streets of ..where are we living now anyway?"
"L.A.," Angel answered as he let Cordelia help him put on the coat.
"Hmm. I always thought I'd go to New York. Ya know, fashion capital of the U.S.. That's where I had been planning on going anyway."
"Well, I'm grateful for whatever changes your mind," he confessed softly as he stood before her now, looking like a complete idiot in the oversized but way too short London Fog.
Cordelia struggled not to laugh as she tried to pull down the sleeves over Angel's large hands. "Well, you'll just have to put them in the pockets," she reasoned, letting go of the material. Then, she leaned up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheek pressing tightly against his. Touching her lips to a spot of bare skin just in front of his ear, she gave him a chaste but loving kiss and then backed away. "Now, hurry up and be safe," she said as she turned and started walking down the sidewalk. "I'll meet you there," she added in a whisper, knowing that Angel could hear her even as she turned the corner.
Angel smiled and dug into his pocket for the ingredients and the spell.
*****
"It's an ancient exercise. People call it Tai Chi now. Of course when I learned it, it was called something else," he remembered.
"You know Tai Chi?" she questioned doubtfully.
"You don't believe me?"
"It's just that I've never seen Angel, I mean you do that before."
"Probably because I usually do it alone. Some people think it's a little eccentric but it helps me focus and clear my mind. Come here and I'll show you some simple moves."
Cordelia paused for a moment, noticing how her heart skipped a beat hearing the words 'show you some moves' come out of Angel's mouth in such smooth and almost sexy manner. She laughed at herself, knowing that it was impossible for this Angel to be flirting with her. He was teaching her the basics of Tai Chi after all, not the Kama Sutra. Oh great, that was a good image. Cordelia, determined to act as if the situation was definitely not flustering her, walked toward Angel, stood beside him and faced the same direction he was. She was actually kind of relieved that at least he had decided to help in a 'non-touching' capacity.
"Now just raise your arms, no not that fast, look at me, very slowly and remember to breath. It's all about breathing."
"This coming from a man who doesn't."
"Shh. Concentrate."
Cordelia followed his lead. Mimicking every motion. She began to relax as her moves became as precise and fluid as Angel's. She glanced at him, matching every graceful sweep. Angel moved his right arm and Cordelia followed. Angel brought his left arm back and Cordelia's fell in synch. He turned to his right and so did she. This had been a wonderful idea. She was already feeling the tension drain from her body. No longer able to see Angel from her position, she began to improvise. She stretched her arms above her head, reminiscent of a ballet move she had learned as a child, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her calming heart rate and smooth breathing both jolted into high gear at the feel of Angel's tender touch and guiding hands from behind. "What are you doing?" she asked but didn't move away.
"It's not a dance move Cordy. It's more like this," he gently laid his hands on top of hers and moved them back in front of her. As he guided her from behind, he whispered his instructions in her ear. "You have to really feel the air around you, use it for resistance."
Cordy tried to relax again. She tried not to concentrate on the smell of his shirt or the way his soft words seemed to vibrate on the back of her ear. She tried to talk some sense into her overactive brain. 'He's just trying to help. He's training me, just like Angel does. Well, not quite like Angel does.' God this was getting confusing. She breathed deeply. It was no use. She couldn't relax. He was making it way too hard for that. If she didn't know him so well, she might have thought that he was using this as a come-on. But the Angel she knew would never be so cheesy as to use this as an excuse to seduce her. The Angel she knew was much too.the Angel she KNEW . wait a minute.
*****
Angel never thought that he would miss the sewers of L.A., but the usually pungent odor smelled like sweet home as he ran east toward the Hypernion. He had done what Cordelia had asked, or ordered, by wearing the raincoat that now flapped fiercely behind his body as he sped through the tunnels underneath the city streets, never stopping to shed the forgotten an unneeded garment. He spied a familiar bend ahead of him. One more minute. The thought of that filled him with a happiness that he would have feared before his soul had been bound.
*****
Over the course of Cordelia's short life she had been hit on and flirted with by just about every type and breed of guy that walked the earth. It had gotten to the point where she could identify each and every line and move that men tried on her now. Except this time. This time she had been fooled, almost. Well, if he thought she was going to just stand here with his arms wrapped around her and his words tickling her ear, sending chills through her body, he had another thing coming. She was going to tell him just what an idiot he was for using training as a way to cop a feel. She was going to let him know that his future self would never stoop to such an immature and asinine level to gain her attention. She was going to turn around and punch him in the nose and call him some kind of witty adjective. Well, that's what she had planned on until she looked up and saw the dirty figure leaning against the wall by the sewer's entrance, his arms crossed and an angry look on his face.
"Please, don't let me interrupt," Angel said, sending a deadly stare to his cleaner mirror image.
*****
Part Fourteen
Angel stood in the entrance of the sewer, shocked into his silent stance by the image of himself touching and caressing Cordy's hands and arms as he stood behind her, watching the paths gently drawn by his fingers on her golden skin. It was his fantasy come to life, what he had never had the courage to act on the dozens of times he'd been in this very basement training her to defend herself. He marveled at the exactness of it, looked at it as if he was in one of the many dreams that made his sleep restless and his ..manhood .known and quite uncomfortable. It was so precise, identical to the picture in his mind. It was the seduction. It was foreplay before the passion. And for a moment it was him, at least that is the trick his mind and heart allowed him to play on himself. Until she looked at him, breaking the spell. Her eyes were full of shock and disbelief, convincing him that this wasn't the beginning of some wet dream about Cordelia, and the arms that encircled her, the hands that teased at her skin with feather soft caresses disguised as wise instructions weren't objects created in his dream world. They were real, and not his. His anger began to rise at his double for touching her, acting as if he had earned the right, and at Cordelia for letting it happen. What was she thinking?
"Angel?" she continued to stare skeptically, as if the sight of him standing there couldn't be trusted as reality.
His twin simply lowered his hands to his sides and looked at Angel as if he was the devil himself, come to escort him personally back to hell.
A terrible thought crossed Angel's mind. When he had arrived in Sunnydale, no one knew that he wasn't his past self. He had had to make himself known to them, tell them his unbelievable story in order for them to realize the truth. If he hadn't, they may have never known. Did Cordy know? Did she believe that it was Angel who had draped his arms so seductively over hers or did she knowingly let a stranger, a version of himself unknown to her, touch her in a seemingly innocent yet painfully intimate way. He couldn't move for fear of his own actions if the latter was true. He waited for her cue, for some clue that would answer his questions and either give his mind relief or his demon permission.
"Angel," this time there was no skepticism, no questioning tone, just his name on her lips, spoken as if it were an answer to a troubling problem plaguing her heart and mind.
*****
"Yo man, what was that?"
"It sounded like a scream."
"It sounded like Cordy," Fred finished as the three friends rushed to the basement stairs.
Each stopped one after another on the top three steps leading down, frozen by the scene below.
Fred's eyes darted around the room, "Oh my gosh."
"He found a way back," Wesley marveled in awe.
"Yeah, but now we got two of 'em on our hands," Gunn reasoned. "You gonna break this up or should I?" he turned to Wesley.
Fred scrunched up her nose, "Which one's which?"
"Well," Wesley chose to answer Fred's question first. "I think it is safe to assume that our Angel is the dirty one who has seemingly been tackled to the ground by Cordy."
The three friends smiled simultaneously at each other and turned their attention back to the sight of a grinning Cordelia, peppering chaste and frantic kisses over Angel's grimy and smudged face.
Angel's anger tried to battle its way back to the forefront of his being as the overwhelming feeling that his soul was experiencing at Cordelia's reaction to his appearance took control. Damn good thing it was permanent now. He took her shoulders in his hands and pushed her back slightly. "Wait a minute," he had to know. "You do know that's not me, right?" he made a gesture with his head to the vampire who now skulked in the darkest shadow of the room, never taking his eyes off of Cordy.
"Who, Mr. Grabbyhands over there. Well duh, yeah. I've been telling him he's not you for three days now." She beamed a smile that seemed to light up and warm the dark and dank room. "You're back. How did you do it? What happened?"
Angel opened his mouth but before he answered Cordelia stood up and offered him a hand as she continued to grin from ear to ear. "You know what," she pre-empted his answer. "It doesn't matter. You're back," she grinned and turned to the forgotten and sulking Sunnydale version of her happiness. "He's back," she reiterated, giving him the first smile that turned his stomach, making him ache to wipe it from her face.
*****
Wesley read Giles' instructions over again, double checking the ingredients of the spell.
"How's it going?" a freshly showered Angel looked over Wesley's shoulder, anxious to send the silent statue of himself back where he belonged.
"I believe we have everything we need," Wesley looked up at the room as if announcing his success. "Now, if you will just step over here," he motioned to the early version of his friend. "We can send you back where you belong," he finished with a courteous smile.
The silent vampire couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "Wait a minute." Everyone was too happy, too happy that he was leaving, too happy to see him go. It hurt and enraged him that he had to leave this place. His home. What if he went back and messed things up? Wesley had said he shouldn't remember anything, but what if he did? What if that memory caused him to do something differently? If he did, would he screw up this future that he longed to be a part of?
He was torn between the hope of remembering every moment spent with Cordy and the knowledge that not remembering would ensure that she would have a place in his life, and more importantly, that he would have a place in hers. That is if his future self would ever suck up the fear and tell this beautiful woman how he felt, how they both felt. He crossed the room and approached Angel. "I need to talk to you before I go." It was more of an order than a request.
Angel looked toward Cordelia. She glanced at Sunnydale Angel, who was now walking into the inner office and looked back at Angel, giving him a reassuring nod. Angel reluctantly followed his past self into the office and shut the door.
He watched as his younger self reach for the shade on the glass window that faced the lobby. "Leave it up," he said in a cold tone. "As sort of an insurance," he explained to himself.
His younger self shook his head in understanding as he stepped back toward the middle of the room and looked out at Cordy staring in. "Insuring we won't kill each other as long as Cordelia can see us?"
Angel, keeping his steely stare, nodded.
"You think that would stop me?" the younger version asked.
"I know it's the only thing stopping me."
Both vampires stared as if daring the other to speak first, to say the wrong thing or make the slightest move.
The older finally broke the silence. "Tai Chi?"
"Worked on Buffy when she refused to touch me."
"Cordelia's not Buffy," Angel reproached.
"You're jealous?"
"."
"Of me?"
Angel gave his naïve image a cold stare.
"But I'm you."
"Not yet you're not. You've got a lot to learn before you can be me."
The younger Angel looked at his older self with fear and resignation. "You're right. I don't know how to be this. I have no idea how to hold on to something that I've never had, never deserved."
Angel gave an indignant chuckle. "You think I deserve all of this? I'm probably less worthy of this life than you are right now. I've hurt every one of those people out there more times than I want to admit, emotionally and physically. I'm not some righteous warrior who's finally getting his due. I'm just a little wiser. I know what I do and don't want anymore and I'll do anything it takes to get and keep the things I do. Anything. Does that sound like some kind of moral do-gooder to you?"
"Cordelia seems to think."
"Cordy thinks I'm some kind of champion, a hero," he laughed to himself. "Truth is, she's the hero. She's saved me from myself. I'm here because she believes in me, sees something in me that I'm still not quite aware of yet. She was my friend before I knew how to be one to her. Cordy's friendship helped me learn to love my son and the love I feel for her ." Angel paused, he'd never said it, not aloud. "The love I feel for Cordy secured my soul."
Angel's counterpart looked at him with disbelief. "You're soul is permanent?"
Angel nodded.
"For how long? When does it happen?"
"Last year. It was. a ." he stammered.
"Dark time," the younger said with understanding. "You've had a permanent soul for this long and you still haven't told her how you feel, how we feel about her? You are a dumbass."
"What?"
"How the hell am I supposed to go back and trust you? You said you knew what you wanted now, that you'd do anything to get and keep it, but that's bullshit. You're afraid."
"It's not that simple."
"Yes, it really is. She loves you, asshole. If you don't tell her soon, let her know how you feel, some jerk off's gonna come along and steal her away from you."
"So you think I should tell her?"
The Sunnydale resident stood and looked at his future self with disgust, "Don't fuck this up for me," he half pleaded and half threatened.
"This isn't your life."
"No, but it will be," he said as he abruptly ended their conversation by opening the office door. "I'm ready," he directed toward Wesley. He was too furious to continue trying to talk some sense into his future self. The prospect of having a permanent soul filled him with such hope, but the fact that he would be so stupid as to have wasted a year with the knowledge that he was free to be happy, to love Cordelia, made him boil with anger at himself. He walked to Cordelia, uncaring now of what his older self might think or do. He looked at her smile. It wasn't big and bright anymore. Not for him. "I want you to know something before I go."
Cordelia's smile faded at his serious stare and he leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear that even Angel couldn't hear. He backed away and turned with a smug grin and stepped to the spot of the room indicated by Wesley.
Oh shit. What had he told her? Did she know about the soul? Angel looked at the smug grin on the face of the now disappearing vampire. Fear and anger consumed him. He was supposed to be the one to tell Cordy that his soul was permanent. He'd been practicing his speech over and over in his mind. For the last eleven months, six days, thirteen hours. God, he WAS a dumbass. He looked at Cordelia's confused stare. He was going to have to clean up this mess fast, before that confused look turned into one of hurt at his not telling her sooner. That was it, the answer was clear. He'd come clean, tell her everything. Immediately.
Angel advanced toward Cordelia in long, purposeful strides. He grabbed her by the hand and headed for the stairs.
"Angel?" Wesley asked after his friend.
"We'll be back," he answered over his shoulder, leading a stunned Cordelia to his suite upstairs.
*****
Angel stood in the middle of the now abandoned parking lot. The ambulances and fire trucks had gone long ago and he looked at the keys in his hand. Chicago had seemed like such a great idea three days ago. Although he had been there during the depression, he'd always felt a fondness for the town. Now he just couldn't see himself there. It didn't feel right some how.
He tried to shake a nagging feeling as he opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. Los Angeles? He had lived there too, he had lived a lot of places, but Los Angeles had been one of the worst. The sound of the ignition echoed in the empty lot as Angel tried to understand why every part of him felt an urge, a desire, to be in a town he swore he'd never return to again. It was as if it called to him, promising him something that he couldn't quite define but knew that he'd been searching for. Home.
He put his foot on the brake, placed the car in gear and headed for L.A.
*****
Cordelia packed her last bag and looked at the bus ticket to New York for the fifth time. It had seemed like such a great idea three days ago. She tried to remind herself of all of the reasons she had wanted to go in the first place but now they all seemed wrong. For some reason she couldn't get the ridiculous notion out of her head that L.A. was the place she should be. It made some sense actually. New York might be the Fashion Capital but she would have a much better chance being discovered in L.A..
Cordelia picked up her overstuffed suitcases and headed out of the empty house, wondering how much it was going to cost to change her ticket.
*****
The click of the lock on the bedroom door, echoed through the room. Angel turned to face a still puzzled and mute Cordelia. Dumbass. He was sick of that word, sick of being weak and afraid when it came to Cordy. He wasn't a dumbass, he was afraid, terrified even of what confessing everything might do to her, to their relationship. The truth was that he didn't know if he would have ever told her, and even if he did, it wasn't supposed to be like this. It should have been over a romantic candlelit dinner or as they were both smiling and playing with Connor on the floor. Oh well, so much for romance and Kodak family moments. The truth was out and now it was time to explain, in his own words.
He walked to her cautiously and lead her to the bed, seating her beside him. Taking a deep breath and cursing his impatient younger self for forcing him into this when he wasn't ready, he began, "Cordy, what he told you down there."
Cordelia opened her mouth, finally it seemed she was ready to speak but Angel silenced her with the raise of his hand. He couldn't risk the chance that her words might change what he had to say.
"Please Cordy, just listen. What he told you down there, I should have told you months ago. It was just so hard, not knowing if you'd ever forgive me for firing all of you, for turning my back on my friends, my family. When I did get you back, I couldn't tell you, not then. I had to concentrate on winning back your trust. My happiness, my soul, came second to that."
He looked at the confusion still plaguing her face and decided to start from the beginning.
"Cordy," he touched her hand and gently lifted it into his own. "When you first showed up in L.A. you drove me insane. I thought that the reason I was drawn to you was because you were weak and alone. I thought because I knew you, because we had a connection, that it was my duty to protect you from the big bad world, be some kind of dark hero for you. I thought without me, you'd never survive.
"When Vocah cursed you, and you laid so helpless and lost in the hospital, a revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. You weren't the weak one, I was. I was the one who couldn't survive without you. I swore that night that I would always keep you safe, no matter the price.
"When Darla came, I was foolish enough to think that price was giving you up. Abandoning you for your own good."
For the first time the confusion was wiped from Cordelia's face, replaced by hurt and anger.
He took a calming breath and continued, "When I finally pushed hard enough, knew that I had probably lost you for good, I snapped. It was one of the biggest of a long list of mistakes in my existence. When Darla came to me," he looked away from her, unable to withstand the judgment and disappointment he knew were in her eyes. "I welcomed her, not for what she wanted, but for what I wanted, death. She was my coward's way out of a world that didn't want me, a world that included you.
"When it was.over, I couldn't understand what had went wrong. I was still here and Angelus was.gone. I didn't really understand how or why it happened, but I just knew. I went to see Lorne and he read me and told me that what I was feeling was right in a sense. He said that Angelus was still there, that as long as I was a vampire he would be, but that I controlled him now. Then he started talking about rainbows and red shoes, and how I had had the power all along. I really didn't get that part."
"You're soul is safe, it's permanent?"
"Isn't that what.I saw him lean over and whisper it to you downstairs. That's what he told you. Right?"
"You're weirdo body double bent forward and kissed me on the ear. It shocked me so much I couldn't even tear into him with some witty insult."
"That son-of-a . he kissed you?"
"You're soul is permanent," she said with an accusing tone as if he'd just committed some horrible crime.
"You're not happy," he said, his heart beginning to sink. Maybe she didn't think he deserved it after the things he had done. She was right if she thought that, he didn't.
Cordelia stood and began to pace in front of him as if trying to think of a proper punishment for such an offense. Angel's soul was bound, permanent. He could be happy. He was free. She should be happy for him. But she wasn't. She tried to be, she searched for a feeling, any feeling that could be close to happiness or relief, but all she could find was fear. Angel was free, free to be happy, free to love, and free to leave. That's what scared her the most. What if that is what he wanted? To leave. Sadness joined fear at the thought of that possibility. He had just been in Sunnydale, with a permanent soul. With Buffy. But he had known about his soul for much longer than that. Maybe this was where he wanted to be. She could imagine Buffy's response at hearing the news of his soul. "We can be happy now Angel. Stay with me, where you belong," she mocked the Slayer in her mind. She had probably cried and pouted and used every weakness she knew of his to convince him to stay, whether he wanted to or not. Well, no matter how much Cordy's heart broke at the possibility of Angel leaving, no matter how much she loved him and wanted him to stay, she wouldn't, couldn't play those games with him. She loved him, but if leaving was what would make him happy, he had to know that he was free.
"You should have told us a long time ago, Angel. I mean, this changes everything."
And there it was. His fear sprouted wings and flew directly in his face. He watched her as she paced, obviously bothered by what he had said. She had said it changed everything. That was supposed to be a good thing. It was supposed to change their relationship, take it to a new level, changing a beautiful friendship into a passionate, all consuming love. Change had been a good thing, an excellent description for what was to come. Until Cordy had said it with disappointment in her voice. Angel put his face in his hands and rubbed at it roughly, as if trying to wash away the multitude of emotions that bombarded him. "I know Cordy, it does. I'm sorry."
She closed her eyes and continued to pace, "It's alright," she soothed. God help her, he was breaking her heart into a million pieces and she still couldn't stand the sight of him in pain. After all, he had confessed to her how much their friendship had meant, how he couldn't get along without her. At least she still had that. That was something. Her mind began to work overtime as she brainstormed, trying to find a way that Angel could be happy without turning his back on the mission. "Well, Sunnydale's only a little over two hours away. We could all visit and I could call you for the really nasty visions."
Angel shot up from the bed, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her monotonous pacing to halt. It was worse than he thought. He'd been afraid that she might not be happy, might not return his feelings, but he never expected her to run away, especially to Sunnydale. "You are not going to Sunnydale."
"I know that," he didn't have to rub it in. "But you are, and that means."
"No, I'm not Cordy."
"You're free Angel," damn it, she tried not to let the tears in her eyes show.
That's the change she meant, that was what disappointed her. Angel's fear ebbed away as waves of hope began to crash into his heart. "Yes, I'm free," he said smoothly in a whisper just inches from her face. "Free to be happy, to dare to relish the thought of being a father to Connor, and to love you. You Cordy. I love you."
Cordy stared blankly back at him.
"Cordelia, I just told you that I'm in love with you."
She nodded her head dumbly.
"Please say something, anything. 'I hate you, I love you, let's just be friends' anything, just talk to me please."
He loved her. He loved HER. Cordelia smiled and she flung her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear, "I love you, Angel. I don't know when it happened, when I actually fell. I just know that when you were gone, there was this possibility hanging over us that you might never come back. That's when I realized it. That's when I knew," she pushed back, the smile still on her face and her eyes glistening.
Angel brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek and looked at her, really looked at her.
Cordelia swallowed, Angel's eyes were so full. They expressed joy, love, want, need, and desire all in one breathtaking dark stare. She unconsciously licked her lips, her mouth aching for his to cover it, consume it until she struggled for air.
She loved him. She had said it and he had heard it. It wasn't some sweet fantasy or hot sweaty dream. She loved him and now he truly was free. He leaned down and captured her mouth, devouring it with a desperate and passionate kiss. His lips left hers and his arms tightened around her. He looked back in her eyes. "You really love me," it wasn't a question, more of a bewildering and unbelievable statement of bizarre fact.
She brushed her knuckles gently against his cheek and then touched the palm of her hand to the side of his face. "Completely," she breathed.
Angel closed his eyes and kissed the palm of her hand. "God, Cordy," his eyes were still closed. "You're gonna have to take the lead here. I don't know if I can take this nice and slow." He meant it, his self control was waning. Her admission of love had been his undoing. She had set him free and like a caged bird or a gated race horse, he was ready to bolt, to speed toward that freedom as fast as he could.
Cordelia cupped his face again, brushing her thumb across his cheek. "I don't think nice or slow defines either of us very well," she answered, aroused by the bare feelings he was laying open to her.
Angel's mouth instantly covered hers again. Cordelia's lips parted, welcoming every caress and taste. She shivered as his hands glided down her sides, his fingers gently wrapping themselves in the hem of her t- shirt. She felt his featherlike touches on her skin as the cotton garment was pushed slowly upward and she instinctively raised her arms, breaking the kiss only for the second it took to pull the shirt over her head.
God she was so beautiful. She stood there in front of him, old sweat pants, a sports bra and a messy pony tail and to Angel she was the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen. He sunk slowly to his knees and pulled the tie of her sweats loose and sliding them over her hips, prompted her to step free from them.
She waited for him to stand again, but he leaned forward and dropped a gentle kiss on her belly, her hip, and let his hands slide slowly and lovingly down the length of her thigh. "You scared me," he whispered.
She placed a hand on his head and began to comb her fingers through his messy hair, trying to sooth any doubts he could possibly have.
"When you started talking about Sunnydale I thought.I thought you were running away, I thought you were going to run and hide from me." He buried his face against the skin that covered her taut stomach and breathed in her scent. Hooking his thumbs inside of the material of her panties he robbed her of them much quicker than the sweats. His eyes drunk her in as he raised to his feet and circled his arms around her, his hands craftily unhooking the last little scrap of modesty she had left. After tossing the bra aside, he turned and looked at the masterpiece that stood before him.
Cordelia studied his predatory gaze as it roved over her body. Suddenly feeling the bareness of her heart and the nakedness of her body, she tried to cover herself with her arms.
"No," Angel finally touched her, guiding her arms away from her body. "Never hide from me, Cordy," he gave his gentle order and looked back into her eyes. "I want to know you, all of you. Besides, haven't we both been hiding from each other long enough?"
Cordelia tried to relax her arms at her sides as she bit her lip and blushed darkly. When she felt that she could move her hands steadily, she lifted them to Angel's shirt and began to unbutton it as gracefully as her nervousness would allow.
Christ, she was going too slow. The way her delicate hands tickled the bottom of his neck as they slowly opened his top button was driving him crazy. He reached down and began undoing the rest from the bottom up, meeting her at button number two. She smiled at him and pushed the shirt from his shoulders and onto the floor.
He really wanted to watch her as she undressed him, as her elegant hands unbuckled him, divesting him of anything that now stood as a barrier between her body and his. But his eagerness to have her, to make her call his name, to show her in anyway she would let him just how much he loved her, was just too strong to fight.
Cordelia's eyes widened at the speed of which Angel removed his boots and pants, his eyes never leaving hers in the second it took to discard them. She gave a small squeak as he swept her up in his arms and laid her on the bed. Cordy looked up at Angel, her Angel, hovering above her.
Angel's mind swarmed with all of his fantasies, some tenderly passionate, some not. He wanted them all, each fantasy, each dream right here and now. He stilled, hovering over her. What did she want? What would she allow? She was smiling again, not the brilliant megawatt smile that lit up the room and his life. It was a small, loving, knowing smile that said 'Yes'. It was permission. He lowered some of his weight onto her, his aching want pressing hard against her thigh. 'Tenderly,' he told himself. That is the way it would always start with her, tenderly and lovingly.
Cordelia wrapped her strong slender arms around his neck and kissed him. Angel's mouth left hers and began to explore her body with gentle precision. His tongue lashed out tenderly, tasting the curve of her neck, her shoulder, the tight pert peak of one breast, then the other. He buried his face in the valley between them, kissing and nipping his way back to her mouth.
Her eyes closed and a soft sigh of pleasure escaped her lips when she felt his arousal touching her center, waiting to be invited in. "I love you," his voice was vulnerable and shaky, ragged with desperate longing. It was the secret pass word that opened her to him. He nudged himself inside of her, pushing himself deeper with each lazy, wonderful, agonizing stroke.
Her heat scorched him. Their bodies rocked together, sighing and gasping with the encompassing pleasure of each gliding thrust. He had to close his eyes to keep his control as they both succumbed to a frantic, surging rhythm that caressed him, pushed him to the edge.
*****
Each time he had touched her that night, it had started out the same, slow and tender, eventually escalating into something desperate and primal, leaving them both spent but wanting and needing more. She had lost count of the number of times she had screamed his name, melting into a pool of trembling nerves. At some point each climatic orgasm had blended into one endless shuddering wave.
Cordy tried to will herself to wake and stretched out her hand sleepily, searching for the missing vampire who had put her in such a state of exhaustion. Finding the spot beside her empty, she opened one eye, then another and propped herself up on one elbow.
She smiled as she watched Angel slowly pacing the room wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and gently cradling his son in his strong arms. "When did he wake up?" she asked in a whisper.
Angel walked to the side of the bed, "He didn't. I just needed to hold him for a while. I missed him."
Cordelia smiled. "I think he missed you too. Why don't you bring him to bed. We all need to get some sleep," she scooted over and pulled back the edge of the covers. Angel laid Connor beside her and slid in after him. He watched his son's cherub face, fixed in peaceful slumber. He looked at Cordy as she smiled at him again, whispering "I love you, Angel," before slipping back to sleep. He stared at the two most important beings in his life. He laid his arm protectively over his son and caressed Cordelia's face with his hand. How had he gotten so lucky?