THE LABOUR AND THE WOUNDS
By Allegra

RATING: 15 (UK) R (US)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters but I thank Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt for creating the world of Angel for us all to illegitimately play with.
NOTE: Set in the 4th series, in between the episodes 'Spin The Bottle' and 'Rain Of Fire' (formerly 'Apocalypse Nowish'). Cordelia has regained her memory, Wesley is sleeping with Lilah & Connor has been living alone.

**********

Connor jumped from the first floor window onto the damp tarmac, ignoring the puddle of water that was already starting to soak through the hole in his shoe. It was the result of a run-in with a demon who had acid for blood but that was a whole other story and the teenager had suffered worse. Angel had bought him several pairs of shoes on their first shopping spree but Connor didn't want to go back to the Hyperion hotel unless he absolutely had to. In fact, he'd rather risk stealing his footwear from under the watchful cameras in the Beverly Center than take what his so-called father could offer him.

It was for that reason he was down a dark alley beside some dive bar in a seedy area of downtown Los Angeles. He needed money for more than just a change of boots and Connor was smart enough to know that no one was going to be around to bail him out if he ended up in the slammer for shoplifting. Fighting was what he enjoyed more than anything in the world and fighting was what he was just about to be paid to do.

Back in the world he had called home, Holtz had given him free rein to work on his warrior skills and Connor had made good use of them since arriving back in this dimension. At first, he couldn't quite figure out was why everything had to be kept secret and clandestine, like his fighting ability was something to hide. Then, he'd seen the kind of society he'd been thrown into and his mind cleared. Humans were difficult to suss out. They hated violence though they worshipped it in the likes of Van Damme, Fight Club and Schwarzeneggar. They thrived on fear and terror by watching television documentaries about the world's worst killers, The Blair Witch Project and Hannibal Lecter. Yet, put all those things right in front of them and humans just couldn't deal with the issues anymore. Connor was learning now that people didn't take kindly to knowing he could break a guy's neck or had just saved the neighbourhood from being overrun by Vengor demons. It didn't make sense, just like most other aspects of this world.

"Hey, kid. Nice moves." The gruff voice stepped out of the shadows, revealing its owner to be a man in his mid-forties with greasy grey hair that hung around his shoulders. A neatly trimmed beard framed thin lips and Connor could see several gold teeth flashing in his mouth. His bright, piercing brown eyes darted over the lean form of the teenager in front of him. The mouth snarled into an untrustworthy grin. "Not as stealthy as the other night but..." He shrugged and looked Connor squarely in the eye, "...it'll certainly make you a buck or two if you come with me."

"I wouldn't be here otherwise," Connor countered. He had been somewhat irritated that someone had been watching him wrestling a vampire a few nights back. He had known someone was there but his attention was on the bloodsucker rather than some tramp in the darkness. He had just decapitated the vamp when the hollow sound of hands clapping reached his ears. This guy had emerged from the darkness of the trash heap, a cigarette balanced in the corner of his mouth. Connor had started to walk away, convinced that this was some drunkard who would forget everything he had seen by the morning. As it happens, he was wrong. This hobo went by the name of Fax Torrance and he was a man with a plan. A guy with deals to offer.

"I'm glad you've decided to join me, kid."

Connor chose not to give him a name in place of 'kid'. "I haven't...yet. Tell me the deal."

Fax produced a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit up, momentarily illuminating the deep lines of age on his face in a fiery glow. "You're sharp, kid. I like that. I can tell you're going to make us a lot of money."

"Us?" Connor was intrigued but he knew this was not a man to be trusted. Still, he could take care of himself. Connor had met plenty worse than the likes of Fax Torrance down dark alleys at night. In fact, he inherited the genes of one. Whatever deal they struck here, it wasn't likely to be written in blood.

Fax just smiled and delivered Connor a hard pat to the back. "Damn right, kid. Us."

**********

Cordelia wiped the sweat from her brow. She hated being hot and sticky, especially when the cause of it lay in the feather duster and bottle of polish she was holding. Ever since she had left Connor's den and returned to the Hyperion, she had developed a sudden sore throat. When no amount of cough syrup had done any good, Cordelia had realised how dirty the hotel was; every flat surface seemed to be covered with a fine layer of dust and grime. Since she was still getting used to the Cordelia Chase that had been missing for a while, her purpose at Angel Investigations had become unclear. For some reason, she had been sent back from the higher plane and it must have been for a better reason that just to kick demon butt until a natural death claimed her. Right now, there were feelings and memories that she desperately needed to sort out and Cordelia didn't feel much like jumping back into the fray. That meant it was getting harder to make valuable use of her time. Perhaps before the summer she could have just grabbed an axe from the cupboard and wielded her way into battle, but not anymore. She had to have a greater purpose back on this earth.

She had burnt the candle well into the night scanning the pages of numerous encyclopaedias on demon breeds, hell dimensions, curses and torments. None seemed to apply to what had happened to her. Reading of the possible places she could have been sent, Cordy couldn't help but feel relieved to be back amongst earthlings, but the unanswered questions still burnt in her mind day and night. In the end, there was nothing left except cleaning. It gave her time to herself, to clear her thoughts and work things through.

Still, domestic chores didn't come naturally to her. Cordelia had cast a duster over the place a few times in the past, but it was a skill that the upper crust of Sunnydale didn't often acquaint themselves with. Besides, there wasn't a lot of time for it when every day offered a new apocalypse to deal with.

She snapped out of her reverie and the soothing motion of polishing the banisters when the door slammed. Fred and Gunn were standing on the steps of the lobby. "Wow, Fred. Are you sure we're in the right hotel?!" Gunn drawled, a smile spreading across his lips.

Cordelia put down the cleaning utensils and flopped down on the bottom step of the staircase. "I know I've been gone for a while but I gotta ask... Were you ever going to clean this place? I don't think even that case of weapons could hold off the dust bunnies we were starting in here."

Fred looked around sheepishly. "I guess things were always kind of, well, you know, busy, and then..."

Gunn deftly argued the point on his girlfriend's behalf. "Hey, girl, we were fighting demons right, left and centre. Cleaning a hotel from top to bottom wasn't exactly high priority when we got home."

Cordy raised her hands in mock defence. "Whatever. I just can't believe you didn't even call someone out to do it for you."

"Well, if memory serves, you were always the one complaining that we don't ever get paying customers, so unless Domestic Services are cleaning for free these days, I don't think our budget would stretch to that. Besides, we've got you," Gunn grinned.

Cordy opened her mouth to make another complaint and then thought better of it as the front door swung open and Angel appeared. She clamped her jaw shut, hoping he hadn't heard the tirade of whinging she had just inflicted on her colleagues. For a while, she had thought Angel had been her lover, but then the record had been set straight. She had even momentarily wondered if Connor was her child, but that had been cleared, too. Now, though, Cordelia's memories had returned in an overwhelming wave of tumult and she wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to think. Angel had been kind of coy about the relationship they had shared before her disappearance but now she remembered that last night. She had been going to pour out her heart, tell him how much she loved him, fulfil him. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't fall back into his arms as if the whole summer had never happened. Neither could she ignore the fact that she had been made into a higher being, perhaps with a mission on earth beyond anything either of them could imagine.

As if to make matters worse, Angel had been the picture of good manners and concern. He hadn't forced her, hadn't probed or even tried to get too close. It was as if he understood her confusion completely and didn't want to compound the problem. Still, it didn't help the unrestrained emotions Cordy felt whenever he was close to her. When he looked into her eyes with concerned sincerity, she was torn between hiding herself away in embarrassment and wanting him to kiss her hard and deep.

"Cordy, you must have been working on this place for hours. It looks amazing." Angel's face was comforting. As he came nearer, she could see that his skin was flushed pink and she knew he had been feeding. Whether it was fresh from a bottle or not, it was a harsh reminder that the man, creature, she loved was so far from her. She had been a higher being, gilded with light, but he was shrouded in darkness, an animal with instincts to harm and murder. What harmony could they possibly find together?

"Well, you know it's kind of a therapeutic. I'd recommend it. I'm sure the hotel would be pleased."

Angel glanced at Fred and Gunn who took the hint and headed into the office. Sitting down on the sofa opposite, Angel's voice took on a more serious note. "Listen, Cordy. Whenever you're ready to come back to work, you know you can. I just thought you might appreciate a bit more time to get used to things. I know this probably isn't what you want to hear right now, but if you need someone to talk to, someone who might understand what you've been going through..."

"Thank you. I really do appreciate the support. You and Connor have been so wonderful through all this." Cordelia noticed how Angel recoiled a little at the mention of his son's name in the same breath as his own. "Things just didn't feel quite right with him...and now there's so much I've just got to work through for myself."

Angel smoothed his hands over the knees of his trousers. "Hey, I'm just glad you felt you could trust him."

Cordelia couldn't help but probe further. "You don't trust Connor?"

"No, it's not that. I just meant I was glad you felt...safe."

Nodding, Cordelia stood up. She could tell things were about to get a whole lot more awkward. Whatever had been between her and Angel, her decision to stay in Connor's loft had only made the grey area even greyer. "But you know what? Now this place is a bit cleaner, it's starting to feel like home."

**********

"This is the ring." Fax coiled his fingers through the wire mesh and leaned forward, fondly taking in the crude cage. "A lot of blood and sweat's been poured out here."

Connor tried to ignore the stale smell of beer, vomit and other nameless odours swirling in the putrid atmosphere around them. "You fight in a cage? Why not in the open?"

Fax laughed and slung a heavy, muscled arm around the teenager's shoulders. "I don't. You do, and you've got a lot to learn about boxing, kid. There are rules to be followed."

Connor had a good idea of the kind of set-up he was about to encounter but he figured it was a good idea to play dumb for a while. "Rules? Like no hitting below the belt?"

"That's right, 'cept here there aren't too many rules. The only rule is that one contender leaves the cage walking and the other on a stretcher. There ain't no round one in this kind of fighting. You're either in or you're out." He eyed Connor, as if expecting him to turn tail and run. He could still barely believe that this scrawny boy had fought so skilfully back in that alley. There was definitely something decidedly unhuman about him and Fax was looking forward to seeing what stops the kid pulled out in the heat of battle.

"Do we get weapons?" Connor asked, innocently.

"Nothing but your bare hands, kid. Now, do you got a name or should I just call you kid?" Fax probed. He had gained enough experience in his career to know when to push and when to let sleeping dogs lie, but this scrap of a boy had fired his interest. Not only would the hook bring in the punters in their droves but there was something instantly mesmerising about the way the kid fought.

Like lightning, he had watched Connor bring down a gang of twelve vamps, the second staked before the first victim's ash had even settled. His eyes glowed with feral hunger for the kill and each death did not sate his thirst but rather fed his appetite. His prowess was unsurpassed; there was none of the clumsiness of a demon killing, no strange protrusions or unnatural appendages. The kid moved with all the grace of an ancient vampire yet he was not. He was warm, he bled, he breathed, he sweated. Blood pumped naturally in those deep veins and Fax Torrance desperately wanted to know more.

"Call me whatever you want. I just want to fight...make money." Connor moved slowly around the cage, looking it over with hawk-like precision. "It's just the two of us in there? No referee?"

"No referee. It's blood money you'll be getting here...if you win, that is." Fax watched his protégé circle back round to where he was standing, like a lion closing in on its prey. The hairs began to stand up on the back of his neck as Connor halted in front of him. An unhealthy glow burned in those youthful eyes as he leaned in close to the older man. "Oh, I'll win. Don't doubt that." Fax said nothing. The kid might make him feel uneasy but there was no question as to who was in charge here. The boy might have talent but he was as green as they came. Fax was the lion tamer here; he held the cattle prod and the meat.

Connor's eyes drifted towards the lists of contenders on the board behind Fax's head. He nodded towards them, "Those my opponents?"

Fax glanced at the torn sheet of paper. "Some. Some didn't quite make the cut, if you know what I mean. When do you want me to sign you up for?"

Connor looked him square in the face, determination etched there. "Tonight."

**********

END OF PART ONE - HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED! I JUST WANTED CONNOR TO GET A DECENT LOOK-IN ON SOME STORYLINES. I'D LOVE TO HEAR WHAT PEOPLE THINK OF IT :)