Disclaimer: Me: Nope. Nada. Nothing. Isn't that just spiffy?
Angel: *rolls eyes * She went and read GollumRox's stories and now look at her.
Me: I know! Isn't it spiffy?
Angel: Stop saying that please.
*Jack Sparrow poofs in* Jack: Stop annoying the vampire, savvy?
JS fangirls: SQUEEEE!
Angel: This is all really random.
Me: I know, isn't it? Okay, so, after you're done reading this unholy-in-length chapter, go read GollumRox's stuff, mkay? Trust me, you'll thank me later.
Chapter 4
Cordelia couldn't help but be filled with excitement at the prospect of a social gathering. Angel must really have liked her to give up his solitary confinement for a full evening of dinner, dancing, and...some other fun word that started with a 'd'.
She bounced her way through the school day, paying just enough attention to her classes that the teachers couldn't catch her daydreaming. When the final bell rang, she bolted from the school grounds, slowing just long enough to grab the collar of Angel's shirt and drag him along.
"Shopping!" she announced as he protested that he'd left his locker open. "All other priorites drop under shopping!"
"Not when my CD player's in there," he whined. She rolled her eyes.
"Hurry up."
When he returned (fairly quickly, she noted with satisfaction), she resumed her insistant dragging all the way to the Sunnydale Mall.
"Clothes first," she announced, pulling him bodily into Tom's Tuxes.
"Of course," he muttered, keeping his eyes on the floor. "Dress-up clothes."
Cordelia flitted between the racks of suits faster than the untrained eye could follow. Mentally, Angel narrated a documentary:
'Cordelia Chase, Queen of Style, moves quickly and quietly through her surroundings. Though not in her most natural of habitats, the Cordelia somehow manages to move with a sort of unconcious ease as she searches for the perfect prey—'
"Here," she called triumphantly from a spot six feet away. She was holding a jacket and guesturing for him to come closer. Warily, he obeyed and she thrust the jacket and several other articles of clothing into his arms.
"What do you want me to do with--?"
"Try them on," she told him impatiently, pushing him toward the rear of the store.
As he wrestled with the unfamiliar clothing, he wondered why he was doing this. He could've been at home, drawing something or writing poetry. Instead, he was letting a crazy girl drag him around like one would drag a dog through a park.
She knocked on the dressing room door. "Are you finished?"
"Yeah," he grunted, stepping back into the main room. "What do you think?"
Cordelia looked him over with an appreciative whistle. "Can't complain."
He frowned down at himself. Black pants and jacket, white shirt, emerald tie. He looked...not like himself.
"Good fit..." She was circling him now, inspecting every aspect. "Has anyone told you that you could be a male model? You'd fit in with the permanent sullen look of your's." She stopped, turning to the small man who'd appeared behind her. "We'll take it." To Angel, she added, "Put your normal clothes back on."
He happily obliged, careful not to wrinkle the fabric for fear she'd make him iron. As they paid for the tux, he asked hopefully, "Are we done?"
"Shoes," she said pointedly.
He sighed. "This is going to be a long day..."
--
Somehow—and Angel wasn't exactly sure how—he managed to survive the Cordelia Chase Shopping Experience. All of his body parts were intact. He even had some sanity left.
That evening, he collapsed on his bed, exhausted. Tomorrow was the day he was dreading, a shy man's hell. He was going in with open arms.
Maybe he *had* lost all of his sanity.
--
Cordelia walked quickly, aiming for her home once again. She was jittery, excitement for the dance making her limbs jiggle almost as it she'd recently gone through elctro-shock therapy. But something else was wading just beneath the happy surface, something scarier.
She was being followed.
Mentally, she gave a scream of frusteration. 'Why me? Why is it always me, what did I do to deserve this?!'
Her legs propelled her through the night and she found herself praying for Angel to come out of the shadows again. 'Come on, come save me...'
No such luck. She glanced over her shoulder, frantic, then looked back toward her target. 'Damn, sometimes *not* seeing someone behind you is the worst thing—yes!'
She had reached her house and, for once, her key was within easy reach. Unlocking the door, she pushed into the foyer—then paused.
"What the..."
A note was under the welcome mat. She took it, closed the door, and sank onto a couch to read the chilling words:
I'm watching you.
--
"Angel!"
He turned, coulful eyes already conveying a great amount of concern. Cordelia was rushing toward him across the school's grass, waving a piece of paper somewhat manically. When she reached him, she forced the sheet into his hand.
"I'm watching you?" he read aloud. "Where did this come from?"
"My front porch," she announced, sinking down on a bench. "Last night."
His frown came as an odd comfort. "Weird."
"Tell me about it! I was just walking home and then it was like I was being followed!" She shuddered.
Angel glanced up. "Don't you own a car?"
Cordelia scowled. "I had my liscense revoked. And all because that stupid little girl had to ride her bike in the street..."
Angel decided he didn't want to know. Instead, he asked seriously, "Have you taken this to the police?"
"No." She shrugged. "What would I say? Hey, I know this doesn't seem like much to you guys, but I found this note and since I'm so cute and popular, that must be bad?"
"Well...you could've worded it differently." He watched her.
"Forget it, Angel, it's not important."
"It's very important," he insisted, seeing a well-hidden loophole. "You know, maybe we shouldn't go to the dance...you should get an early night, just to be save."
She smirked. "Nice try."
He deflated. "No escape?"
"Resistance is futile." Patting his arm, Cordelia retrived her note and headed for class, leaving a dejected-looking Angel behind.
--
Before he was even ready for it, evening had fallen and Angel had borrowed his father's ancient convertible to pick up Cordelia. Normally, he was uncomfortable with driving, but hey, he was dressed up and his spiky locks were soft and free of hair gel; it was a night of discomfort.
She came gracefully out of her house wearing a long red gown and he felt his heart momentarily pause in it's usual rhythm at the sight.
"Wow."
"What?" She knew what. This was just her form of modesty.
Angel blinked, putting the car in drive. "You just look..."
"Go on, say it." Cordelia laughed. "Beautiful. Gorgeous. A hotter than hot hottie."
"Sums it up," he agreed with a nervous chuckle.
"Well, you don't look so bad yourself." Her eyes roamed him for a moment and he felt himself turn a light shade of red.
The ride had an air of pleasant comfort from there on out and Angel was sorry to see it end. He turned off the engine and sighed heavily. "Do I have to?"
"Yep." She smiled and left the car and he hurried to catch up.
The moment he took her arm, things started happening. Not Red Carpet- level things, but still more activity than Angel usually liked.
A huge mob of well-dressed teens fell upon them. Angel jerked back slightly in panic. Cordelia just rammed right through them.
They came out on the other side in on piece, which the trembling young man found amazing. His hands shook and Cordelia took one of them between her own.
"Breathe," she suggested.
"You actually *like* this?" he demanded. "Having people swarming everywhere?"
"It'll be better inside," she promised, pulling him through the doors. Loud music was already playing and the gym was full of gyrating couples. Angel recoiled again.
"Oh my God."
"Angel, you're like a little old man!" she laughed. "Calm down."
"I-I shouldn't be here." His eyes wildly bounced from one point to another. "This is—"
"You need to calm down," she repeated softly.
"But I—"
"Dance with me." It wasn't a request so much as a command and, swallowing hard, Angel obeyed.
She put her arms around his neck and he swallowed again before letting the intense music dicate his movements.
Angel wasn't a dance. He never had been, and probably could move at all only because he was a skilled martial artist. Because of this, he began to feel more and more at ease with the idea of swaying to the music.
They moved in sync for a little while, familiarizing themselves with the beat. Then Cordelia turned in his embrace and moved against him.
He felt uneasy for a brief moment, then realized all the other girls were doing the same thing and relaxed. She closed her eyes, raising her arms over her head and he smiled at the contentment written over her face.
When the song ended, he found himself yearning for another one to start up. And then another, and another.
Cordelia grinned. "Well, aren't you just the Lord of the Dance."
He beamed at her, wiping sweat from his brow. "Much as I hate to say it, this is actually fun."
"Told you." She pulled him out of the crowded gym and sighed. "Wow. I love these things, but they are exhausting."
"One more song?" he pleaded.
Cordelia giggled. "You're just saying that because your highly- attuned boy ears know what song is coming."
"Well, I'm sorry if I love Bon Jovi." He bounced on the balls of his feet. "Please?"
She gave into his puppy-dog expression and they ducked back onto the dance floor just as the song began.
Half the boys and several girls burst into song. "Shot to the heart, and you're to blame! You give love a bad name!"
Angel kept bouncing, waving his arms and laughing. Cordelia rolled her eyes affectionatly.
"You're such a guy."
"Proud of it," he replied before starting to sing again. Not well, Cordelia noted with a slight wince, but the exuberance with which he belted out the lyrics was adorable.
By the time the song was done, Cordelia was vowing to drag Angel to the next Bon Jovi concert that rolled into town—or, more likely, rolled into Los Angeles, since nobody good ever came to Sunnydale.
She led him outside and inhaled the fresh air. Angel tried to shove his hands into his pockets, then, realizing he had none, fiddled with his jacket.
"Having fun?" he asked, voice betraying his worry. Cordelia grinned, knowing she looked tired.
"Can't you tell from my lack of energy?" she teased. "I'm having a great time." Her face softened. "Thank you."
"For what?" He looked startled.
"You came out of your cave. For me. It was sweet of you."
Angel looked heavenward. "It's not a big deal." It seemed like she was always thanking him for things he hadn't done. Sure, he'd saved her from a very unpleasent experience with Mark, but that had half been an accident. He'd been walking, heard a scuffle, got curious. He was just lucky the other boy hadn't been armed.
"It is to me." She drew closer, almost to the point where she'd been invading his personal space, but not quite.
Angel stepped back. "I have to go to the bathroom. Sorry."
Barely concealing an irritated groan, Cordelia watched him hurry away. "That boy has some serious intimacy issues," she muttered, mentally resloving to fix that problem. Sighing, she sat on a bench and looked over the railing.
A voice sounded behind her. She jumped, realizing several meaningless minutes had passed and she wasn't quite as alone as she'd thought.
"You ignored me." The voice was calm and Cordelia's stomach turned.
"Who are you?"
"Unimportant," he growled. The man wasn't visible at all and that just frightened her more.
"Why don't you come out of there?" she demanded shakily. "We could talk, maybe get some coffee. Discuss why you're harassing me."
"You're in no place to be telling me to do anything," the soft voice informed her coldly. "I've been ignored, Cordelia, and I hate being ignored."
She felt frozen. "What do you want?"
No reply came drifting from the darkness. He was gone, but the fear wasn't. Cordelia shuddered and nearly collapsed.
Surprisingly, Angel was behind her. He looked confused as he caught her.
"Are you okay?"
Instead of replying, she gave a soft whimper and buried her face in her friend's shirt. Angel blinked.
"Cordy?"
She sobbed into his chest. "Oh God, oh God, oh God."
"What?" Clamping his arms firmly around her, he searched the shadows with wary eyes. "What happened?"
"H-he was here. Somewhere here. He s-said he..." Cordelia gulped. "He didn't like being ignored."
"Who is he, Cordelia, who is this guy?" Anger tinged Angel's voice as he pictured some bastard threatening his Cordy from the darkness.
"I don't know!" she wailed. "He didn't come out and I didn't recognize the voice."
"Coward," Angel growled softly, shifting his protective hold slightly.
"I'm sorry!" she cried, sounding oddly angry. "I didn't know I was supposed to go see him!"
"Not you. The guy." He couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"Oh, right." Sniffling, Cordelia pulled back and gazed up at him. "I don't feel safe here"
"I'll take you home." He nodded, reaching into his jacket pocket for his keys. "Come on."
Unlike the drive to the dance, the one home was pretty silent. Angel looked thoughtfully pissed off while Cordelia tried in vain to remember the details of the stranger's voice.
When he dropped her off, Angel promised, "We'll go the police tomorrow morning."
"Right, okay." She gave him a fierce hug before slipping into the house and locking the door behind her. Leaning against it, she muttered, "For the first time in my life, I wish my parents were home..."
She went upstairs to collapse in her room, glad to be relativly safe. After all, she reasoned as she hung the dress up and slipped into a tank top and pajama pants, no one could get to her here.
Something smashed through her window. Cordelia screamed even as she saw that the something in question was a rock...with a another note.
Fingers shaking, she freed the slip of paper and read the scrawl.
Don't go to the police.
A/N: Good God that took a long time to type...so, I'm hoping for lots of reviews for my trouble. PLEASE?? *looks puppyish* I'll be your best friend...
Angel: *rolls eyes * She went and read GollumRox's stories and now look at her.
Me: I know! Isn't it spiffy?
Angel: Stop saying that please.
*Jack Sparrow poofs in* Jack: Stop annoying the vampire, savvy?
JS fangirls: SQUEEEE!
Angel: This is all really random.
Me: I know, isn't it? Okay, so, after you're done reading this unholy-in-length chapter, go read GollumRox's stuff, mkay? Trust me, you'll thank me later.
Chapter 4
Cordelia couldn't help but be filled with excitement at the prospect of a social gathering. Angel must really have liked her to give up his solitary confinement for a full evening of dinner, dancing, and...some other fun word that started with a 'd'.
She bounced her way through the school day, paying just enough attention to her classes that the teachers couldn't catch her daydreaming. When the final bell rang, she bolted from the school grounds, slowing just long enough to grab the collar of Angel's shirt and drag him along.
"Shopping!" she announced as he protested that he'd left his locker open. "All other priorites drop under shopping!"
"Not when my CD player's in there," he whined. She rolled her eyes.
"Hurry up."
When he returned (fairly quickly, she noted with satisfaction), she resumed her insistant dragging all the way to the Sunnydale Mall.
"Clothes first," she announced, pulling him bodily into Tom's Tuxes.
"Of course," he muttered, keeping his eyes on the floor. "Dress-up clothes."
Cordelia flitted between the racks of suits faster than the untrained eye could follow. Mentally, Angel narrated a documentary:
'Cordelia Chase, Queen of Style, moves quickly and quietly through her surroundings. Though not in her most natural of habitats, the Cordelia somehow manages to move with a sort of unconcious ease as she searches for the perfect prey—'
"Here," she called triumphantly from a spot six feet away. She was holding a jacket and guesturing for him to come closer. Warily, he obeyed and she thrust the jacket and several other articles of clothing into his arms.
"What do you want me to do with--?"
"Try them on," she told him impatiently, pushing him toward the rear of the store.
As he wrestled with the unfamiliar clothing, he wondered why he was doing this. He could've been at home, drawing something or writing poetry. Instead, he was letting a crazy girl drag him around like one would drag a dog through a park.
She knocked on the dressing room door. "Are you finished?"
"Yeah," he grunted, stepping back into the main room. "What do you think?"
Cordelia looked him over with an appreciative whistle. "Can't complain."
He frowned down at himself. Black pants and jacket, white shirt, emerald tie. He looked...not like himself.
"Good fit..." She was circling him now, inspecting every aspect. "Has anyone told you that you could be a male model? You'd fit in with the permanent sullen look of your's." She stopped, turning to the small man who'd appeared behind her. "We'll take it." To Angel, she added, "Put your normal clothes back on."
He happily obliged, careful not to wrinkle the fabric for fear she'd make him iron. As they paid for the tux, he asked hopefully, "Are we done?"
"Shoes," she said pointedly.
He sighed. "This is going to be a long day..."
--
Somehow—and Angel wasn't exactly sure how—he managed to survive the Cordelia Chase Shopping Experience. All of his body parts were intact. He even had some sanity left.
That evening, he collapsed on his bed, exhausted. Tomorrow was the day he was dreading, a shy man's hell. He was going in with open arms.
Maybe he *had* lost all of his sanity.
--
Cordelia walked quickly, aiming for her home once again. She was jittery, excitement for the dance making her limbs jiggle almost as it she'd recently gone through elctro-shock therapy. But something else was wading just beneath the happy surface, something scarier.
She was being followed.
Mentally, she gave a scream of frusteration. 'Why me? Why is it always me, what did I do to deserve this?!'
Her legs propelled her through the night and she found herself praying for Angel to come out of the shadows again. 'Come on, come save me...'
No such luck. She glanced over her shoulder, frantic, then looked back toward her target. 'Damn, sometimes *not* seeing someone behind you is the worst thing—yes!'
She had reached her house and, for once, her key was within easy reach. Unlocking the door, she pushed into the foyer—then paused.
"What the..."
A note was under the welcome mat. She took it, closed the door, and sank onto a couch to read the chilling words:
I'm watching you.
--
"Angel!"
He turned, coulful eyes already conveying a great amount of concern. Cordelia was rushing toward him across the school's grass, waving a piece of paper somewhat manically. When she reached him, she forced the sheet into his hand.
"I'm watching you?" he read aloud. "Where did this come from?"
"My front porch," she announced, sinking down on a bench. "Last night."
His frown came as an odd comfort. "Weird."
"Tell me about it! I was just walking home and then it was like I was being followed!" She shuddered.
Angel glanced up. "Don't you own a car?"
Cordelia scowled. "I had my liscense revoked. And all because that stupid little girl had to ride her bike in the street..."
Angel decided he didn't want to know. Instead, he asked seriously, "Have you taken this to the police?"
"No." She shrugged. "What would I say? Hey, I know this doesn't seem like much to you guys, but I found this note and since I'm so cute and popular, that must be bad?"
"Well...you could've worded it differently." He watched her.
"Forget it, Angel, it's not important."
"It's very important," he insisted, seeing a well-hidden loophole. "You know, maybe we shouldn't go to the dance...you should get an early night, just to be save."
She smirked. "Nice try."
He deflated. "No escape?"
"Resistance is futile." Patting his arm, Cordelia retrived her note and headed for class, leaving a dejected-looking Angel behind.
--
Before he was even ready for it, evening had fallen and Angel had borrowed his father's ancient convertible to pick up Cordelia. Normally, he was uncomfortable with driving, but hey, he was dressed up and his spiky locks were soft and free of hair gel; it was a night of discomfort.
She came gracefully out of her house wearing a long red gown and he felt his heart momentarily pause in it's usual rhythm at the sight.
"Wow."
"What?" She knew what. This was just her form of modesty.
Angel blinked, putting the car in drive. "You just look..."
"Go on, say it." Cordelia laughed. "Beautiful. Gorgeous. A hotter than hot hottie."
"Sums it up," he agreed with a nervous chuckle.
"Well, you don't look so bad yourself." Her eyes roamed him for a moment and he felt himself turn a light shade of red.
The ride had an air of pleasant comfort from there on out and Angel was sorry to see it end. He turned off the engine and sighed heavily. "Do I have to?"
"Yep." She smiled and left the car and he hurried to catch up.
The moment he took her arm, things started happening. Not Red Carpet- level things, but still more activity than Angel usually liked.
A huge mob of well-dressed teens fell upon them. Angel jerked back slightly in panic. Cordelia just rammed right through them.
They came out on the other side in on piece, which the trembling young man found amazing. His hands shook and Cordelia took one of them between her own.
"Breathe," she suggested.
"You actually *like* this?" he demanded. "Having people swarming everywhere?"
"It'll be better inside," she promised, pulling him through the doors. Loud music was already playing and the gym was full of gyrating couples. Angel recoiled again.
"Oh my God."
"Angel, you're like a little old man!" she laughed. "Calm down."
"I-I shouldn't be here." His eyes wildly bounced from one point to another. "This is—"
"You need to calm down," she repeated softly.
"But I—"
"Dance with me." It wasn't a request so much as a command and, swallowing hard, Angel obeyed.
She put her arms around his neck and he swallowed again before letting the intense music dicate his movements.
Angel wasn't a dance. He never had been, and probably could move at all only because he was a skilled martial artist. Because of this, he began to feel more and more at ease with the idea of swaying to the music.
They moved in sync for a little while, familiarizing themselves with the beat. Then Cordelia turned in his embrace and moved against him.
He felt uneasy for a brief moment, then realized all the other girls were doing the same thing and relaxed. She closed her eyes, raising her arms over her head and he smiled at the contentment written over her face.
When the song ended, he found himself yearning for another one to start up. And then another, and another.
Cordelia grinned. "Well, aren't you just the Lord of the Dance."
He beamed at her, wiping sweat from his brow. "Much as I hate to say it, this is actually fun."
"Told you." She pulled him out of the crowded gym and sighed. "Wow. I love these things, but they are exhausting."
"One more song?" he pleaded.
Cordelia giggled. "You're just saying that because your highly- attuned boy ears know what song is coming."
"Well, I'm sorry if I love Bon Jovi." He bounced on the balls of his feet. "Please?"
She gave into his puppy-dog expression and they ducked back onto the dance floor just as the song began.
Half the boys and several girls burst into song. "Shot to the heart, and you're to blame! You give love a bad name!"
Angel kept bouncing, waving his arms and laughing. Cordelia rolled her eyes affectionatly.
"You're such a guy."
"Proud of it," he replied before starting to sing again. Not well, Cordelia noted with a slight wince, but the exuberance with which he belted out the lyrics was adorable.
By the time the song was done, Cordelia was vowing to drag Angel to the next Bon Jovi concert that rolled into town—or, more likely, rolled into Los Angeles, since nobody good ever came to Sunnydale.
She led him outside and inhaled the fresh air. Angel tried to shove his hands into his pockets, then, realizing he had none, fiddled with his jacket.
"Having fun?" he asked, voice betraying his worry. Cordelia grinned, knowing she looked tired.
"Can't you tell from my lack of energy?" she teased. "I'm having a great time." Her face softened. "Thank you."
"For what?" He looked startled.
"You came out of your cave. For me. It was sweet of you."
Angel looked heavenward. "It's not a big deal." It seemed like she was always thanking him for things he hadn't done. Sure, he'd saved her from a very unpleasent experience with Mark, but that had half been an accident. He'd been walking, heard a scuffle, got curious. He was just lucky the other boy hadn't been armed.
"It is to me." She drew closer, almost to the point where she'd been invading his personal space, but not quite.
Angel stepped back. "I have to go to the bathroom. Sorry."
Barely concealing an irritated groan, Cordelia watched him hurry away. "That boy has some serious intimacy issues," she muttered, mentally resloving to fix that problem. Sighing, she sat on a bench and looked over the railing.
A voice sounded behind her. She jumped, realizing several meaningless minutes had passed and she wasn't quite as alone as she'd thought.
"You ignored me." The voice was calm and Cordelia's stomach turned.
"Who are you?"
"Unimportant," he growled. The man wasn't visible at all and that just frightened her more.
"Why don't you come out of there?" she demanded shakily. "We could talk, maybe get some coffee. Discuss why you're harassing me."
"You're in no place to be telling me to do anything," the soft voice informed her coldly. "I've been ignored, Cordelia, and I hate being ignored."
She felt frozen. "What do you want?"
No reply came drifting from the darkness. He was gone, but the fear wasn't. Cordelia shuddered and nearly collapsed.
Surprisingly, Angel was behind her. He looked confused as he caught her.
"Are you okay?"
Instead of replying, she gave a soft whimper and buried her face in her friend's shirt. Angel blinked.
"Cordy?"
She sobbed into his chest. "Oh God, oh God, oh God."
"What?" Clamping his arms firmly around her, he searched the shadows with wary eyes. "What happened?"
"H-he was here. Somewhere here. He s-said he..." Cordelia gulped. "He didn't like being ignored."
"Who is he, Cordelia, who is this guy?" Anger tinged Angel's voice as he pictured some bastard threatening his Cordy from the darkness.
"I don't know!" she wailed. "He didn't come out and I didn't recognize the voice."
"Coward," Angel growled softly, shifting his protective hold slightly.
"I'm sorry!" she cried, sounding oddly angry. "I didn't know I was supposed to go see him!"
"Not you. The guy." He couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"Oh, right." Sniffling, Cordelia pulled back and gazed up at him. "I don't feel safe here"
"I'll take you home." He nodded, reaching into his jacket pocket for his keys. "Come on."
Unlike the drive to the dance, the one home was pretty silent. Angel looked thoughtfully pissed off while Cordelia tried in vain to remember the details of the stranger's voice.
When he dropped her off, Angel promised, "We'll go the police tomorrow morning."
"Right, okay." She gave him a fierce hug before slipping into the house and locking the door behind her. Leaning against it, she muttered, "For the first time in my life, I wish my parents were home..."
She went upstairs to collapse in her room, glad to be relativly safe. After all, she reasoned as she hung the dress up and slipped into a tank top and pajama pants, no one could get to her here.
Something smashed through her window. Cordelia screamed even as she saw that the something in question was a rock...with a another note.
Fingers shaking, she freed the slip of paper and read the scrawl.
Don't go to the police.
A/N: Good God that took a long time to type...so, I'm hoping for lots of reviews for my trouble. PLEASE?? *looks puppyish* I'll be your best friend...