AN: Hey y'all fab readers again. Once again sorry for the delays, but as you know summer days are winding down which can only mean school is once again going to be starting up so unfortunately that means the updates will be farther in between (if possible), but I'm going to dedicate myself to write more and get another chapter out before the first day of school gets here on the 23rd. This chapter is kind of boring, but necessary because I'm setting it up for something bigger. Hope you all continue reading and Don't Forget to Watch the Olympics!! (I'm so excited; I love Athens and am so happy the games are going home).

A standing ovation from me goes to these fantastic reviewers: Imzadi, Anabel, Rain, Danielle218, BAshipper101, Reese, Tariq, urangel, Rebecca Alora Walker, Angel Summers Forever, Manda, AngelicGryffin, miss-ange, Snoopy, meteorgarder89

Seduction was a delicate craft distinct from all others. For starters the vessel in question was a living breathing human being. They possessed awareness to their environment and a mind of their own which alas resulted in the human flaw of unpredictability.

That was the beauty and challenge of seducing someone which ironically made it the hardest to master.

A sculptor never had to worry themselves with those impractical reasons. A lump of russet clay would still be tan tomorrow and then the next day and then the after that. It was consistent unless manipulated by the sculptor's hand. Clay would bend and flex to its master's wished, never choosing whether it would be flat or rolled up in the shape of a ball. Once the sculptor made their decision it was up to the clay to just stay there unchanging like it should be.

A person unfortunately wasn't a lump of clay. One unexpected decision or unseen catalyst could undo what took months to be done. At the drop of a pin the plans of the artist must be able to readjust and sift into the new situation. The seducer also had to be diligent and persuasive in their technique. Too forceful and the seducer could be seen as just another hormonal creature with one thing on their mind or a potential rapist, yet if you are too understanding an acquiescent to their needs then you have suddenly become the gay best friend.

Angelus knew all the rules. He had done it countless of times, but never to someone as pure as Cordelia. There was so much charity in that girl she could've easily given Mother Teresa a run for her money.

Cordelia wasn't all goodwill, abstinence, and love as luck wouldn't have it; she had brains to match as well, making things more problematical for Angelus. He had pulled up her school records and was dismayed to see rows of straight A's and plus signs gracing the dull photocopy paper. She wasn't just a pretty face. It wasn't going to be easy to seduce Cordelia or any easier to convince her he was a decent person.

All that was fine for Angelus, it would just make the victory sweeter. Not that Buffy didn't already make the victory extremely enticing in itself. He remembered clearly moment she strolled into the room during their first meeting. Instantaneously he knew he wanted her and that feeling never subsided. In the incoming years he learned to make peace with the fact nothing was going to happen between them for the time being. He interred the inviolable feelings deep down, away from his surface so other would not see, but it was always there lingering inside of him. He even tried to convince himself he did not feel anything for Buffy which would usually work until he saw her beautiful face. No matter how far he shut out his thoughts or denied them there was always that unseen truth behind the quick gibes he shot at Buffy about their relationship.

Angelus shook any thoughts about Buffy and the ridiculous ideas of love out of his mind. He didn't love Buffy. He didn't love anyone. That was who he was.

The only reason Buffy was in his mind so often was pure Freudian psychology. He wanted what he couldn't have, that was the only rationale that could explain why he felt the overwhelming need to prove to Buffy he could seduce Cordelia. Buffy was his forbidden fruit. All he had to do was to make Cordelia Chase another notch on the headboard so he could do then do the same to Buffy. After that, he would finally, after 3 years, be able to shake Buffy out of his head once and for all as well as all those delusional thoughts about love.

Angelus finally pulled up to the stone mansion. He took his keys out of the ignition, silencing the fierce purr of the engine. There was no sound in the world more pleasing and melodic to his ears then the jaguar's hum. This included all the countless shrieks and moans of pleasure that came with the girls he had been with. There were just some things better than sex and there was no way in hell Buffy was going to get the satisfaction of ever experiencing it. If she was going to win she might as well just a take his balls while at it. His car was his everything. The more reason he had to take this bet seriously and seduce Cordelia.

With a determined look, Angelus marched out of the car, pass the endless display of lawn ornaments and bubbling fountains and up the brick paved pathway winding up to the huge manor sitting on the edge of the freshly mowed green.

Angelus reached the massive door that camouflaged into the mansion's granite façade. The second he was out of the study yesterday he wasted no time in beginning to plan how he was going to gain Cordelia's trust and affections. He had carefully constructed and mapped out a plan in his journal dictating each of his moves. He hacked his way through hundreds of the school files, finding any information he could on Cordelia to aide in his goal. With a powerful knock on the door he began the first phase of his mission.

'Oh Angelus! What a pleasant surprise!!" squealed the plump elderly lady opening the door.

"Hello Aunt Jeanie," Angelus brightly smiled enveloping the tiny woman into a great big bear hug. Aunt Jeanie, the only member of his money grubbing backstabbing bloodline that hadn't abandoned him. It wasn't because she loved him as he was, taking the good with the easily outweighed bad qualities. It was merely because of the absentminded twit's inability to use logic and retain any information after he early eighties. Everyone had repeatedly warned her about his reputation, but she was always heedless to their crying pleas much to Angelus delight. As far as she knew he was and always would be the 7 year little boy with skinned knees stealing cookies from her ceramic kitten cookie jar, little did that nearsighted idiot know back then that wasn't all he was stealing from her.

"Why Angelus, you've grown so much!" she yelped despite being muffled by Angelus massive chest and tight grip.

Angelus let go and gave a saintly look to his Aunt who was trying to regain balance and gather herself up. She lead him inside to the mansion's foyer before closing door.

"So what brings you here?" Jeanie tilted her head curiously letting her owlish bifocals dip lower down her nose.

"Well I was wondering if Xander was home?" Angelus asked casually.

"Xander? I believe he is upstairs in his room, but he asked not to be disturbed" Jeanie explained.

"Oh I'm sure he wouldn't mind his favorite cousin stopping by for a visit," Angelus charmingly coaxed brushing past his aunt quickly before she had a chance to catch up to stop him.

"Thank god for that hip surgery," Angelus muttered as he made his way up the stairs against the little old lady's petitions. He briskly walked down the embellished hallway till he got down to the fourth door on the left.

Digging into his pocket he pulled out the gold key Xander had given him earlier. With one swift motion unlocked the door and busted into the room, halting at the scene in front of him.