AN: This fic takes place and picks up right after Buffy's dance with Xander. It also has Cordy make mention of Kevin Benedict. Cordy was dating him in 'Prophecy Girl' before he was brutally murdered in the same episode. They seemed to genuinely care for each other and he treated her well, so of course he wasn't long for the BTVS world. :/ Just wanted to include a quick reminder of who Kevin was (because he was such a blip on screen that it's easy to forget) so that no one is like "...who tf is Kevin?" when reading lol. On with the story.
Angel clenched his fists, biting back the low growl that was fighting to leave his throat.
His blood burned with jealousy as he watched Buffy exit the dance floor. Her hips swaying, she passed right by him, looking through him like he was a stranger. Like he wasn't there at all.
Leaving him—and her friends, Xander and Willow—behind in her wake. She'd dealt all three of them a simultaneous blow with her little stunt.
Who did Buffy think she was playing with?
He was a centuries old vampire, goddammit. Not some high school boy she could toy with.
The demon in him snarled, struggling against its souled restraints, wanting nothing more than to remind her of that.
He pushed it back, re-exerting his control. Once he'd calmed enough to trust himself, he followed her out of the Bronze.
She hadn't gone far. Her scent led him to the alley outside the club.
A second scent—feminine, not at all unpleasant—greeted him as Angel realized that he wasn't the only one to follow Buffy out.
Cordelia Chase had done so, too.
Angel fell back, melting into the shadows, unseen. The conversation he wanted to have with Buffy didn't require an audience.
"Embrace the pain," Cordelia was saying to an irritated Buffy, "spank your inner moppet, whatever, but get over it. 'Cause pretty soon you're not even gonna have the loser friends you've got now."
Angel knew next to nothing about Cordelia Chase, but her words to Buffy surprised him.
From the little he did know—admittedly, most of it came secondhand from Buffy—Cordelia wasn't the type to involve herself in affairs that had nothing to do with her.
But here the brunette was. Giving Buffy advice. Sounding like she cared about what happened to Buffy, Xander, and Willow.
He obviously hadn't given Cordelia Chase enough credit.
Angel had first taken notice of the brunette when he'd overheard her calling him "salty goodness" one night at the Bronze.
Though he'd been there to warn Buffy about the imminent danger that had been coming, he'd become temporarily distracted for longer than he'd care to admit.
His demon had wanted to turn around and approach the brunette. To find out just how much she liked him.
How she tasted. How she'd feel against him. The sounds she'd make as his fangs pierced her throat.
His demon had wanted the girl. Wanted her bad.
Cordelia was just the type he'd gone for when he'd been human. Beautiful, curvaceous, and bold. Not afraid to go after what she wanted.
But Angel would never let his demon touch her.
And Whistler had sent him on a mission. He couldn't let anything distract him from helping Buffy.
Buffy…
Angel's mind snapped back to the present.
Despite his best intentions, Angel had let himself start to become emotionally entangled with the blonde slayer.
He'd thought she'd been beginning to feel something for him, too.
He'd spent weeks waiting for her to return from visiting her father in L.A.
He'd missed her.
It'd be a lie if he said the way she was acting didn't sting.
"I think it's about time you start minding your own business," Buffy shot back at the brunette, her expression hardening further into an aloof mask.
"It's long past," Cordelia acknowledged matter-of-factly. She waited a beat, assessing Buffy as though she was calling the blonde's unaffected bluff. Finally, she said, "Maybe I'll see if Angel feels like dancing."
Buffy scoffed. Her gaze flickered to where Angel was shrouded in the shadows. Her slayer senses had picked up on his presence shortly after he'd caught up with her.
Then, all the while knowing Angel was listening, Buffy said flippantly, "Go right ahead."
It was almost as if she was daring him.
And Angel had never been one to balk at a dare. Not as a human and not as Angelus.
He chose that moment to step out of the shadows, the street lights illuminating his broad silhouette in the darkness. "I do," he told Cordelia smoothly.
"A-Angel," Cordelia gasped in surprise. She clearly hadn't been expecting him to actually be there when she'd suggested dancing with him.
Recovering from her shock, she quickly composed herself and tucked a strand of glossy hair behind her ear. "I didn't see you there." Under her breath she muttered, "Lurk much?"
Buffy's hands moved to her hips. "I thought you didn't dance."
Buffy was referring to the time Angel had declined the blonde's invitation to dance with her inside the Sunnydale High School gym.
He'd escorted her to the school dance after she'd slain the Master, though he hadn't felt comfortable going inside and socializing amongst the large crowd. He'd seen himself out while everyone else had attended the party.
If he was remembering correctly, Cordelia had even watched him go, a question in her eyes…
He wondered if she would've asked him to dance if he'd stuck around.
Angel knew what Buffy was thinking: 'he'll dance with Cordelia, but he wouldn't dance with me?'
Turnabout is fair play, Angel thought.
"I'll make an exception tonight," he told Buffy, before turning his attention to Cordelia.
"You will?" A slight flush rose to the brunette's cheeks under his stare. Then, almost as soon as it appeared, the flush vanished, replaced with a bright, confident smile. She fluffed her hair and preened. "I mean, of course you will, you obviously have great taste in dance partners."
The duality of her personality intrigued him.
She uses her confidence as a shield to hide her vulnerability, Angel realized.
There was more to Cordelia than meets the eye.
The confidence she possessed was real, but so was the soft side she tried to hide.
Buffy loudly cleared her throat. She was glaring back and forth between where Cordelia and Angel were staring at each other.
"Fine," the blonde snapped at him. "Dance with Cordelia," she pronounced Cordelia's name like it was an insult. "See if I care." Her tone of voice was that of someone who cared very much, but was trying not to show it.
With that, Buffy flipped up her hood, turned on her heels, and stalked off.
Part of Angel wanted to chase after her.
Buffy was already angry with him for reasons unknown to him, and this would only make it worse.
He felt Cordelia's approach before she reached him.
Drawing his thoughts away from the blonde, Cordelia slid her arm easily through Angel's.
A luminous smile lit her face and she beamed up at him winningly. "I believe you promised me a dance, big guy."
Her smile was the most infectious one he'd ever seen.
He found he couldn't say no to that smile. Couldn't do anything that would disappoint her and dim its brilliance.
Turnabout is fair play, Angel reminded himself again.
"I did," Angel answered, voice low and smooth, turning on a bit of the old Liam and Angelus charm. "And I keep my promises."
Cordelia's stomach was swarming with butterflies.
She felt almost flush, her body warming with anticipation.
Queen C wasn't supposed to get butterflies. She was supposed to be giving them to others. But with Angel, her body hadn't gotten the memo.
She was even getting tingles from where her arm was tucked into his.
Actual tingles. From over the clothes contact.
How was that possible?
She hadn't experienced chemistry on this level before.
She wondered if it was mutual.
Despite what one Xander Harris might say, she wasn't an idiot.
She knew Angel was only dancing with her because of whatever drama he currently had going on with Buffy. But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the opportunity that had come her way. Or that she had to count herself out just yet. Besides, it wasn't like Angel had Buffy's name on him.
As far as she knew, he and the blonde weren't yet an official item.
She wouldn't have asked Angel to dance if they had been. Regardless of what the school rumor mill liked to claim, she didn't put the moves on other girl's men.
Angel, it seemed, was still fair game.
And Cordelia was still a little miffed (not to mention hurt) about being turned down for Buffy Summers on numerous occasions. Once even by Angel himself.
Being turned down for the school freak—her mother would've been so proud. Not. Chase women were not supposed to get turned down.
Cordelia could remember the first time she'd seen Angel like it was yesterday.
As soon as he'd entered the Bronze, her heartbeat had quickened, pounding in her chest. Her whole body had seemed to come alive, to sing. Him, him, some voice inside her had risen up to say. I want him.
But Angel had only had eyes only for Buffy. He hadn't so much as noticed her.
Well, he's definitely noticed me now, Cordelia told herself, trying to pull herself out of her mini pity party. It wasn't the time for that.
Now was the time for dancing. With Angel. With the hunkiest glass of salty goodness she'd ever seen.
Her perfect posture straightened even further when she noticed Harmony and her Cordettes gawking jealously at her from the table they were sitting at. Snagging an unknown hottie of his level was definitely gonna be winning her some major points with them.
She knew they'd be demanding all the juicy details later.
Xander and Willow were nowhere to be seen. They must've gone to lick their wounds after Buffy had left.
And then thoughts of Buffy, of anyone and anything else, vanished as Angel escorted her onto the dance floor.
Cibo Matto had finished their set and were no longer performing. Devon and Oz's band, Dingoes Ate My Baby, had taken the stage.
As if on cue, the upbeat song they'd been playing drew to a close, and a slow, melodic beat filled the air.
Perfect. If she only had one chance to dance with Angel, at least it would be to a slow song.
A slow song meant closeness and cuddling. Swaying together. Getting to burrow herself in his arms.
Suddenly, Angel—who was not at all cooperating with the fantasy she had going on in her head—looked up at the stage and scowled. "This isn't Barry Manilow."
Her arm fell out of his. "What?" Cordelia asked, a little annoyed he'd killed the uber romantic mood they'd had going on.
"I mean, it is. It's his song. But he's not the one singing it."
"Yeeeah," she drew the word out by a few extra syllables. "That's what a cover song is. And why do you care?"
Angel's scowl somehow became scowlier. "They've ruined it. They ruined his song."
Okay, he wasn't just killing the mood. Now he was slaughtering it.
"Who's this Barry guy, anyway?" Cordelia wanted to pout and stomp her foot and demand that Angel stop his mood killing, but she held it back because she was too mature and classy for that. "I've never heard of him."
Shock registered on Angel's features. He looked downright aghast. "You've never heard of Barry Manilow? He's got loads of hits. 'Mandy?'" he tried. "'Copacabana?'"
"Oh, Copacabana. Yeah, my mom likes that song." She paused and wrinkled her nose. "Ew. You have the same music taste as my mom."
Angel didn't blush, but something happened to his expression. He seemed to turn awkward and shy all of a sudden. "I think his songs are pretty," he said softly, in a tone that was almost boyish.
His behavior was honestly pretty dorky, but in a way that she found kind of endearing. Which was super alarming, because Cordelia Chase was not supposed to find dorky behavior endearing.
Angel, apparently, seemed to be the exception to her usual rules.
She didn't know if she should be freaked out by that or not. She just…she knew he was making her feel all sorts of new and interesting things and she didn't want that to stop.
"You know," she told him. "I wouldn't usually spend time with someone who has such lame taste in music…" Looking at him from under her lashes, she gave him a smile—a real smile; not the practiced, perfected Queen C one she usually used—and echoed the words he'd said earlier back to him, "But I'll make an exception tonight."
Angel stared at her for a moment, and then an answering smile began to stretch across his face. A big, bright smile that went from ear to ear. A movie star handsome smile with straight, pearly white teeth.
Cordelia's heart did something funny in her chest.
Okay, he was even more gorgeous when he did that. His smile gave new meaning to the term heart stopping.
And just like that, the mood was restored.
Especially when she registered the words to the song that was playing.
You know I can't smile without you
I can't smile without you
I can't laugh and I can't sing
I'm finding it hard to do anything
Hearing those lyrics right as Angel was smiling at her…yeah, there her heart went acting funny again.
The insane chemistry she'd felt earlier came roaring back.
In the blink of an eye, Angel's boyish dorkyness disappeared. His gaze had become intense. Was turning heated.
His brown eyes burning into hers, he extended his arm, offering her his hand.
Cordelia was used to having boys look at her with heat in their eyes.
But being looked at by Angel was somehow different. Meant something more.
It mattered to her in a way she wasn't used to. He mattered.
She slid her hand into his.
Melting into his arms was like second nature. It almost scared her, the way it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like she'd done it one-hundred times before.
Like she could do it one-hundred times more.
She fit perfectly into the space of his broad chest, her face tucked intimately against his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her like two strong, protective bands, making her feel safer than she could remember feeling in…god, years.
He was practically a stranger. How could she feel so safe with someone she barely knew?
Angel seemed to hesitate for a moment, his muscles tensing slightly under her touch. If there had been something wrong, though, it hadn't lasted long. A short beat later his muscles relaxed and a soft masculine sigh left his lips, his chin coming down to rest against the top of her head.
You see I feel sad when you're sad
I feel glad when you're glad
If you only knew what I'm going through
I just can't smile without you
The butterflies in her stomach were losing their minds. They were doing more somersaults than her entire cheer squad combined.
He was holding her differently than she was used to. He wasn't pawing at her like she was good for only one thing, like the boys she usually danced with.
He was holding her like she was something precious. Something worth cherishing.
In his arms, every small sensation in her body seemed magnified.
She could feel her heart beating. Could feel her breath in her lungs. Could feel every single one of her nerve endings that were pressed against his broad chest.
Happiness takes so very long to find
Well, I'm finding it hard leaving your love behind
She was being more affected by this one dance with Angel than she'd ever been by all the kissing she'd done with Kevin.
Oh, god, Kevin…
The memory of her ex was like falling off the top of the pyramid in cheer practice and hitting the ground hard.
She stiffened in Angel's arms, withdrawing into herself.
She was still raw from Kevin's death.
Cordelia Chase was no stranger to having boyfriends, but she was a stranger to investing in a relationship emotionally. Dating was a social game. Men were a means to an end and a way to boost her social status.
Love, as her mother often preached, wasn't part of the equation.
Cordelia hadn't fallen in love with Kevin, but she'd been beginning to.
She still woke up some nights, silent tears streaming down her face, haunted by the scene she and Willow had found in the AV room.
Blood. So much blood. God, Kevin…
She couldn't do this. She couldn't fall for someone else. For Angel.
It hurt too damned much.
If you only knew what I'm going through
I just can't smile without you…
So she forced herself to come to a decision.
And though a large part of her heart was protesting, she made herself resolve to stay strong and not give in.
She was allowing herself this one dance with Angel.
And then she was cutting herself off.
Angel's muscles had gone awkwardly rigid when Cordelia had accepted his hand and he'd taken her into his arms.
He hadn't had human contact in so long that his body had tensed for a second by default.
Once he'd gotten a taste of the warmth of her touch, though, his body had quickly relaxed, desperately seeking more of her embrace.
The last real touch he'd experienced had been the kiss he'd shared with Buffy at the Bronze. He'd borne the pain of the crucifix she'd been wearing as it had burnt itself into his skin just to feel something other than the cold.
Cordelia didn't need a cross to burn him.
He felt like her touch was singeing him, scorching him down to his bones in the best way possible.
She was so warm, so alive in his arms. Warm enough for the both of them.
He never wanted to let her go. Wanted to hold her until the end of time.
His eyes shuttered in pleasure as he nuzzled the top of her hair. Her heartbeat was a strong, steady rhythm in his ear. Lub dub. Lub dub. Her pulse had quickened slightly—the intoxicating scent of her excitement filling the air—but it was still beating at a pace that read as utter contentment.
With the sound of her heartbeat in his ears, he could almost imagine it was his own.
As if her heart could beat for the both of them.
He'd needed this so much. Touch. Contact. Real connection.
Being with her like this was more than just dancing. It was the kind of connection he'd been deprived of for what seemed like eternity. It was everything he'd been craving. Craving more than he ever could've realized.
Like her really had been dead until her touch had given him back a taste of life.
He pulled her closer, trying not to think any thoughts of a nature that would get him too excited.
He wasn't Xander Harris. He wasn't going to humiliate himself in the middle of the dance floor.
Cordelia Chase, though, wasn't the type of woman who made it easy. The press of her soft feminine curves against his chest would test even the powers that be themselves. Add in the scent of her excitement and the light perfume of her arousal and he was lost.
No, she was the type of woman who made it very, very hard.
Right as Angel was beginning to lose his internal battle—the borrowed blood in his veins all rushing to one spot—Cordelia suddenly grew tense in his arms.
Had she noticed his desire for her?
Was she disgusted?
The warmth Angel had been feeling went cold. Pure self-hatred descended on him, and for a single second he envisioned staking himself to put himself out of his misery.
God. He couldn't blame her.
She deserved better than an undead beast like him. Deserved someone as warm and bright and alive as she was.
His hold on her loosened but he couldn't bring himself to let her go.
Making the choice for him, she pulled free of his arms before their song even finished drawing to a close.
"Well," Cordelia smiled disingenuously, "that was fun, but my dance card, as it always is, is full up."
Her smile was all wrong. It wasn't like the ones she'd given him earlier. It was distant. Closed off. Beautiful but not touchable. Not attainable.
It contained none of her warmth. None of her softness. She had hidden those parts of herself away from him.
His demon wanted to rage at the moon. To go on a bloodthirsty killing spree at having it taken away. To yank her back into his arms and put a claiming bite on her neck.
The demon in him was already addicted to her.
And the man…well, the man wasn't far behind.
"I really should be dancing with someone who is somebody," Cordelia continued, giving him the brush off. "See you around. Or not."
Without so much as another glance at him, she hightailed it away from him.
Angel knew he should let her go. He damn well knew it.
But he wasn't capable of not following after her.
Cordelia brushed right past Harmony and her Cordettes—she wasn't in the mood to put on the show of being Queen C for them right now—as she hurriedly exited the Bronze.
She had three goals in mind. To get to her car, to get home, and to forget all about Angel.
And the third goal was already posing to be a major problem.
Namely because Angel had followed her outside.
She drew to a sudden halt, almost colliding with the solid wall of his chest as he seemed to materialize in front her.
There was a deep line of worry in his forehead, his expression showing signs of questioning concern. He looked as affected—as changed—by their dance as she felt.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a voice that was equal parts demand. "Why'd you—" His words cut off as he started fidgeting and all of a sudden his dorky behavior from earlier was making a comeback. "I-I scared you," he stammered helplessly. "I came on too strong, I know it. I-I never meant to—"
She cut him off before he could finish.
If she let him finish, she risked him changing her mind.
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she retorted, "Pfft. Excuse you. Me, scared? Of what? A little dance? I don't think so."
"I know what you should be scared of, little girl," a dark, unrecognizable voice answered out of nowhere.
It all happened so fast.
One second she was feigning being unaffected by Angel, and the next second three large male vampires were descending on them.
At the very same time as Angel was attacked by Vampire #1 and 2, a cold, pale hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her and yanking her back against the third vampire's chest. Vampire #3's hold grew suffocatingly tight as he began bodily dragging her away with him.
Away from Angel.
Thrashing, kicking out her legs, Cordelia struggled to free herself. Her fight or flight instincts took over and she viciously bit at the hand covering her mouth.
A bellow of pain met her ears. "You fucking bitch, that hurt!" the vampire snarled, tearing back his hand.
Cordelia used her freed mouth to gasp in an unrestricted breath and yell out Angel's name. "Angel!"
She was terrified for him. As terrified as she was for herself.
"Cordelia!" she heard him yell back, his voice a dark roar of worry.
Angel was outnumbered. His human strength would be no match for one vampire's, let alone two. He couldn't possibly stand a chance against them. He was fighting them, taking them on, but he couldn't last.
Cordelia struggled harder against her vampire captor. Elbowing him in the stomach, she stomped hard on his foot. Take that, creep!
The vampire hissed in outrage, accidentally releasing her.
She made a run for it. Ran for Angel.
She was caught before she could reach him.
Steel like arms circled back around her, ensnaring her. "No!" she shrieked. "Let me go, you undead freak!"
Hope for escape seemed all but futile when Vamp #2 landed a particularly nasty blow against Angel.
Angel was sent flying. He crashed into the wall, breaking a discarded wooden board that had been left there with the impact of his body. She heard a sick cracking sound.
Oh, god. Angel! An impact like that could break his spine. Could kill a man.
And then the most miraculous thing happened.
Angel got back up.
Without showing any sign of injury, he rose to his feet, a large shard of splintered wood clasped in one hand.
The wooden shard was thrown dead center through Vamp #1's heart, reducing him to ashes.
Fast like lightning, Angel broke another piece of wood in half, creating a second stake. He launched himself at Vamp #2, hitting Vamp #2 with an uppercut to the chin. Angel was moving with precision. With experience. With inhuman reflexes.
In no time at all, Vamp #2 exploded into dust.
Vamp #3 barely had the chance to understand what had happened to his comrades before Angel was closing in on him.
"Let her go," Angel growled. He was a truly menacing sight to behold, tall and impossibly pale in the moonlight, still covered in the dust of Vamp #2. "Or you're next."
Vamp #3 hesitated as though he was actually considering letting her go so that he could make a run for it. Unfortunately, his common sense lost out.
"I only take orders from the one true Master!" Vampire #3 snarled back.
Tossing Cordelia aside like a rag doll, he leapt at Angel, his fangs bared.
Angel and Vamp #3 collided, becoming locked in a power struggle for Angel's stake. Cordelia watched in horror as Vamp #3 headbutted Angel, gaining the upper hand.
"No!" she cried out as Vamp #3 managed to manipulate the battle so that the sharp end of the stake was being pointed towards Angel.
He's gonna die. We both are.
No. She wasn't gonna let that happen. She wasn't.
She looked around frantically for a weapon.
There was nothing.
Her only option was to make a desperate running jump onto Vamp #3.
But before Cordelia could make her move, Angel made his.
Angel's handsome visage transformed before her very eyes. His teeth elongated, sharpening into fangs. His eyes turned a piercing predator's yellow, and his brow grew ridged.
The truth hit her all at once, shattering what she'd thought she'd known.
Angel's a vampire.
Angel's a freakin' vampire!
There was only one thought in Angel's mind.
Save her. Save Cordelia. No matter the risk, or cost, to himself.
He hadn't been ready to let her know he was a vampire, but the choice was out of his hands.
He needed the added strength given to him by his demon in order to save her.
She'd hate him once she found out what he was. He knew she would.
But at least she'd be alive to hate him.
With that in mind, Angel released his demon, feeling it surface, his senses sharpening. In a great burst of renewed strength, he reclaimed the upper hand against his opponent. And then he laid waste to the vampire who dared touch Cordelia.
When he staked the vampire through the chest and watched him erupt into a cloud of ashes, Angel's demon lamented giving him such a quick death.
He'd deserved to suffer. To be made to feel an eternity of torment. He'd put his hands on Cordelia—had tried to take her away from him.
Cordelia.
Angel whirled around to check on her.
She was okay. Not bleeding or bruised. Still in one far too beautiful piece.
But she seemed to be frozen in shock. She was staring at him, wide-eyed, her lips parted in surprise. Her breathing and pulse had both quickened. Her fear saturated the air.
Fear of him?
Ashamed, hating the thought that he was scaring her, Angel forced his demon to recede until only his human features once again remained.
He'd known he'd lose her after she discovered his true face. How could he not?
"You're a vampire," Cordelia said suddenly, her voice practically numb with shock. "You're one of them."
"No." Angel shook his head, holding himself still and trying to make himself as unintimidating as possible so that he wouldn't spook her. "Not one of them. I have a human soul."
There was a long pause as she took in his response. She continued to stare at him, watchful and contemplative. "...Is that why you helped me?"
"You could say that." His soul was responsible for him helping her, yes, but, mostly, he'd helped her because he hadn't been able to bear for anything to happen to her. He didn't think she'd want to hear that part, though. "I don't hurt humans," he told her.
"Buffy knows that you're a vampire." It was both a question and a statement.
"She does," he confirmed.
"Well, if Little-Miss-Likes-To-Fight hasn't staked you yet, I'm thinking you can't be all bad." A full minute passed, and then, surprising the hell out of him, she asked, "Are you hurt?"
"No," Angel answered quietly.
It wasn't completely true that he was unhurt. He had multiple broken ribs, but there was nothing wrong with him that wouldn't heal. Physically speaking, at least.
He got yet another hell of a surprise when she just as suddenly asked, "Can I see your 'grr' face again?"
He blinked, unsure he'd heard her right. "What?"
"You know, your 'grr' face. Can I see it again?"
She wanted to see his demon?
Angel had no idea what to make of her request. It was already a miracle that she was even still talking to him instead of retreating in fright like most humans would have. He didn't want to push it.
"Cordelia, Cordy…I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Cordy…" She tilted her head slightly. "Only my friends call me that."
"Sorry," Angel apologized for being overly familiar.
"Don't be. You fought off three vampires for me. I think that constitutes friendship status, don't you?"
A friend. He had a friend.
How long had it been since he'd had a friend?
Ages. Decades.
He'd lost so many. Had killed so many.
He didn't deserve any new ones.
"Why?" he croaked. "Why do you want to be my friend knowing what I am?"
Her heartbeat was still elevated—still alert and cautious—but the terror in it was dying down. The scent of true fear in the air was dissipating.
Cordelia appeared to genuinely mull his question over before replying. Like she was figuring it out for herself, too.
Finally, she said, "A human temporarily blinded me last year in order to steal my spot on the cheerleading squad. A few months later, when I won May Queen, another human girl tried to carve up my face with a knife. …So as far as I see it, being human doesn't count for everything. And as for the friends I do have, they'd drop me like last season's Prada handbag if hanging out with me didn't make them more popular."
Her expression faltered as she spoke of her so-called friends. A flash of deep, profound loneliness crossed her face before she could hide it.
If there was one thing Angel understood, it was loneliness.
He wished Cordelia hadn't ever been made to experience it herself.
He was so touched, so moved by her claiming him as a friend that he was speaking before he could think better of it. "You really want to see my demon?"
Cordelia's—No, Cordy's, she was Cordy now—head shot up. "Duh. Please? I promise I can handle it."
Maybe she could. Maybe it'd be okay.
She was already braver than he'd ever thought possible. Despite her terror, she'd fought her captor like a hellion.
And Angel was too weak to deny her—to deny his new friend.
Bracing himself in case he was wrong—in case his nightmare scenario came to pass and she screamed and ran from him after all—he let his demon resurface.
Forcing himself to meet her gaze, he looked out at her through yellow, demonic eyes.
If he'd needed to breathe, he would've been holding his breath.
But Cordy didn't react except for a slight intake of breath and a sharpening of curiosity in her gaze. Her heartbeat had quickened but not to a level that signified alarm.
She wasn't screaming or running hysterically away from him.
Buffy had screamed in terror the first time she'd seen his demonic visage.
He knew the situations were different, knew that he shouldn't compare the two girls, but he couldn't help it.
Buffy. How little he'd thought of the blonde since Cordy had started smiling at him.
"Where do your eyebrows go?" Cordy pulled him from his thoughts.
Once again, he had no idea what to make of the brunette.
Who, when faced with a bloodsucking creature of the night, asked about the aforementioned vampire's eyebrows?
He'd never known anyone like her. Not in all his years.
Angel partially shrugged one shoulder. "Uh, I can honestly say I've never thought about it."
Cordy bit her lip, seeming to come to a decision. The sound of her heartbeat speeding up even more, she reached out a hand towards him, letting it hover near his forehead. "Can I?"
She wanted to touch him? To knowingly put her hands on a demon?
He was too tainted, too stained in blood and death for someone like her to be touching.
But he allowed it. He allowed it because he wanted her hands on him to an unhealthy degree.
He nodded his permission.
She tentatively closed the distance between them, letting her fingers softly trace over the ridges of his brow, explorative. "It's hard like bone," she told him in surprise.
His eyes had almost fallen shut at her first light touch. His demon practically wanted to start purring. Well, that, among other things. Things much, much less innocent.
By touching his forehead, it had brought the pulse point in her wrist close to his mouth.
He could hear her blood pumping through her veins. Could smell her blood through her skin.
His mouth watered.
His demon didn't need a taste to know that her blood would be the sweetest nectar.
But he wasn't worried about his self control. Wasn't worried about his demon overpowering his soul and biting her, taking what it desired.
He'd step into the sunlight before he harmed her.
He wouldn't do anything to hurt their newfound friendship. To hurt her.
And though an alarmingly large part of him wanted desperately for more than more than just her friendship, he pushed that part of him down.
She let her finger trace halfway down his nose before letting her hand drop. "I imagine there are probably easier ways to get an eyebrow wax than getting vamped," she teased.
She was teasing him. She was touching his true face and making a playful joke while doing it.
Her acceptance blew his mind. He'd never received acceptance like this before. Had only ever dreamed it could exist.
She was giving him her warmth again, even knowing he wasn't human. Wasn't hiding it from him anymore.
He wanted her to put her hands back on him. For her to touch him and never stop.
To keep his mind from going down a path that would get him into trouble again, he made himself look away from her.
Which was exactly when he noticed something small and silver lying on the ground by them.
Cordy followed his line of sight. "What's that? Vamp's are shedding cheap, tasteless jewelry now?"
It was a ring. One of the vampire's must've dropped it.
Picking it up, Angel realized it wasn't just any ring: it was engraved with the Order of Aurelius.
The words spoken by Cordy's captor came back to him. I only take orders from the one true Master.
Why had he spoken in present tense, as if the Master was still among them?
"It has the Master's sigil on it," he said uneasily.
"You mean that creepy guy with the ugly bat face who left his skeleton behind in the library?"
Angel almost loosened an unexpected chuckle at her bluntness and her wholly unique way of putting things. "Uh. Yeah. Him."
"I don't have a good feeling about this," he told her. "I should get this to Buffy."
He was surprised by how much he didn't want to leave.
"Slay Gal's definitely the go-to for Sunnydale weirdness," Cordy agreed. "Could that Master guy have something to do with why those vampires attacked us? I thought he was dead—like, really dead-dead."
"He is, as far as I know. But those vampires were up to something, and whatever it was, I don't like it," Angel mused out loud. "You should go home," he told her. "Get inside where it's safe."
She took that in and nodded. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"The best thing you can do to help is to stay safe. It might not be a coincidence they tried kidnapping you tonight. They weren't able to accomplish what they set out to do. Let's keep it that way."
"Right. So…." Her words trailed off. She looked as if there was more that she wanted to say, but then decided against it. "I guess this is the part where I get going."
"Where are you parked? I'll walk you to your car."
"Angel?" Cordy asked once they'd reached her vehicle.
"Yeah?"
Their eyes locked.
"Thank you," she said softly. "I'm pretty sure you saved my life tonight."
Thank you for making me feel alive for one more night, he thought but didn't say.
"You're welcome," he told her.
A warm, radiant smile took shape on her face.
Angel imagined the radiance of it could've rivaled the sun itself.
Unable not to be affected by the sight of it, he felt his own mouth tugging into an answering grin of his own.
Her smile did something to him. It made his chest feel lighter. Made his undead heart feel like it could start beating.
"You keep yourself safe, too, grr guy," she added. "Stay undead. Don't turn into a big pile of dust."
"I'll try my best," he said wryly, still with a small grin on his lips.
He had a hell of a time tearing his gaze away from her and making himself walk away.
He tailed her car on the rooftops until he'd confirmed she'd made it home safe and sound. Only then did he set out to find Buffy.
He'd been right: the vampires had been up to something. They'd been trying to bring the Master back from the dead.
Xander, Willow, Jenny, and Giles had all been captured. Cordelia would have been, too, if not for him.
Buffy smashed the Master's bones and cried in Xander's arms.
Oddly, Angel didn't wish that the arms Buffy was crying in were his.
The sun rose and he was still thinking of Cordy.
Of her gentle fingers on his face. Her acceptance. Of holding her
He felt like something had changed that night. Like he'd reached a crossroads.
It was similar to the feeling that had come over him when he'd followed Darla down a dark alley all those centuries ago. Like he knew his life was about to be changed forever. Like his destiny had just been altered.
The last thing he thought of before slipping into slumber was Cordelia Chase's smile.
AN:
Major shout out and thanks to the Cangel discord group for helping me chose a song and giving me their support while I wrote this! And a huge thank you to VergeofChaos for enduring the many questions I had during the writing process and betaing for me. I'm considering a sequel or two (one where Cordy is the one to unleash Angelus). If anyone would be interested in reading more, please let me know. Comments are hugely appreciated and are as valuable to me as designer clothing is to Cordelia.