Part 8, Plans and Intrigue

Later, in their hotel room, Angel turns on the light. Cordelia begins to remove some jewelry. He approaches the window and carefully looks out, seeing a figure standing under an archway down below. He closes the drapes. "Our faithful friend is still there," he observes wryly.

"Angel, please, don't go to the underground meeting tonight."

"I must. Besides, it isn't often a vampire has a chance to display heroics before his seer."

"Don't joke. You're really bad at it - almost as bad as your singing - and I hate when you come back stinking like crap after your romps threw the sewers. After Buffy's warning tonight, I am frightened."

"To tell you the truth, I'm a little worried, too. She's got a chip on her shoulder big enough to make an elephant jealous. But shall I remain here in our hotel room, hiding? Or shall I carry on the best I can?

Suddenly and without warning "Carry On My Wayward Son" fills the room, shaking the walls and rattling the furniture. The two of them look annoyed yet resigned at the same time. After a few bars have played a far away banging is heard, followed by a muffled thump and a sharp yelp as the song abruptly cuts off.

"Woof! Those late night jam sessions of theirs will be the death of me. Don't they know we're not in Kansas anymore?" Angel peevishly asks. "Oh, where was I?"

"Whatever I'd say, you'd carry on. Angel, why don't you tell me about Xander? What did you find out?"

"Apparently he has the talismans."

"Yes?"

His shoulders slump. "But no intention of selling them. One would think if sentiment wouldn't' persuade him, Tiddly-winks would."

"Did you try Twinkies? Why didn't you try Twinkies?"

"Wouldn't work. We could never get enough to bribe him. He's already the West African distributor."

"Oh." Now her shoulders slump as well. Cordelia is uncomfortable, but Angel is too self absorbed to notice, as she asks her next question. "Did he give you any reason?"

"He suggested I ask you."

"Me?" she gasps.

"Yes. He said 'Ask your seer'. I don't know why he said that. I thought nobody from Sunnydale knew about you." He turns off the light, while she practically falls down on the couch. "Well, our friend will think we've retired by now. I'll be going in a few minutes."

He leaves the window and sits next to her. A strained silence permeates the room. "Cordelia, I - "

"Yes?"

"When I was in the hell dimension, and while I was suffering under Buffy's insanity spell, were you lonely in Sunnydale?"

Cordelia cannot, won't look at him. "Yes, Angel, I was."

His voice is quiet and full of sympathy, "I know how it is to be lonely. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"No, Angel, there isn't," she demurs.

"I love you very much."

"Yes, yes I know." She turns to face him directly, "Angel, whatever I do, will you believe that I, that - "

"You don't even have to say it. I'll believe. Goodnight." He kisses her.

"Goodnight," as she watches him start to go. "Angel!" she calls out. She rushes to the door, full of worry and tension. "Be careful."

"Of course I'll be careful."

He kisses her on the cheek and leaves. She walks slowly to the window and looks out, watching Angel sneaking down the street. She moves over to the closet and gets a cloak, and prepares to leave as well.

In the bar, Xander and Willow are going over the ledger, Willow busy figuring the numbers. After a few moments she looks at Xander. "Well, you're in pretty good shape, Xander."

"How long can I afford to stay closed?"

"Two weeks, maybe three," she answers somberly.

"Maybe I won't have to. A bribe has worked before. In the meanwhile everybody stays on salary," Xander declares.

"Oh thank you, Xander! Andrew will be happy to hear it. I owe him a Mr. Potato Head."

"You finish locking up, will you Wills?"

"I will," she giggles. "Whoops, sorry, no pun intended! I'm going to a meeting with the - "

"Don't tell me where you're going!"

"Alright, I won't." She flashes him a sultry smile, "But you could get a lot of good fantasies out of it."

"Goodnight, Will," firmly.

"G'night, Xander," she says, her smile turning soft and caring.

Xander trudges up the stairs to his apartment above the juice bar and enters the dark room. Light from the open door reveals a figure by the window. He flicks the light switch and sees that it's Cordelia. Xander is plainly astonished. For a few moments he is speechless.

"How did you get in?" he finally asks, quietly.

"The stairs from the street, duh!" Then she walks across the room to come face to face with him.

"I told you this morning you'd come, but this is a little ahead of schedule. Have a seat? Your unexpected visit is connected by any chance with the talismans of transit? It seems as long as I have those things I'll never be lonely."

There is desperation in her voice, "You can ask any price you want, but you must give me those talismans."

Xander's tone quickly changes from amusement to anger. "I went through all that with your precious Angel! It's no deal," making a cutting motion with his hand.

"I know how you feel about me. But I'm asking you to put those feelings aside for something more important."

"Do I have to hear again what a great champion Deadboy is? What an important cause he's fighting for?"

"It was your cause too. In your own way, you were fighting for the same things, too." She flashes her million-watt smile at him, caresses his arm.

"Your womanly wiles won't work on me anymore, Cordy. I'm not seventeen." She pulls back, trying to mask the hurt she's feeling, as he continues. "I'm not fighting for anything anymore, except myself. I'm the only cause I'm interested in."

He stomps over to the window, Cordelia follows. "Xander, Xander, we loved each other once. If those days meant anything at all to you - "

Xander harshly cuts her off, "I wouldn't bring up Sunnydale if I were you. Poor salesmanship."

"Please! Please, listen to me! If you knew what really happened, if you only knew the truth - "

"I wouldn't believe you, no matter what you told me. You'd say anything now to get what you want." He goes to a table to open a Twinkie box, but it's empty. He groans, disappointed, because he could really use the sugar and other chemicals.

Now it's Cordelia's turn to be angry, "You want to feel sorry for yourself, don't you? With so much at stake, all you can think of is your own feelings. One woman has hurt you, and you take revenge on the rest of the world. You're a...you're a coward! And a weakling!"

"I thought I was a Zeppo." he whispers, his voice gone husky.

Hearing this cuts her like a hot knife. She twists away as tears flood her eyes, falling to the carpet and soaking it. "No! Oh, Xander, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but you - but you are our last hope. If you don't help us, Angel will be dust in Casablanca."

"What of it?" as he turns away and sticks his nose into the empty box, inhaling deeply of the remnant fumes from that heavenly food product. "I'm going to die in Casablanca. It's a good spot for it." He turns back to face her, "Now if you'll - "

He stops, dropping the box as he sees her point a ferula-gemina at him. "All right, I tried to reason with you. I tried everything. Now I want those talismans. Get them for me!"

"You didn't think to try a lap dance?" sarcasm oozing from every syllable. "That might have actually worked!"

She ignores his furious leer, "Get them. Now!"

Seeing how desperate she is he settles back and calms down. He knows he's got the upper hand in this pretty little tableaux and becomes as cool as the cucumbers he serves with his Cranberry-Cucumber Coolers. "I don't have to. I've got them right here."

"Put them on the table!" she hisses.

Smirking, "No."

"For the last time, put them on the table! I can only do so much angry, indignant hissing!"

He is plainly unimpressed with her hissing. "If Angel and the cause mean so much to you, you won't stop at anything. All right, I'll make it easier for you," as he steps closer, to point blank range. "Go ahead and shoot, you'll be doing me a favor. Each of me will only have to work half as much to keep this place going."

The tense moment stretches on, becoming a pregnant moment before turning into an awkward moment.

Her hand falls, her gaze drops. There are tears again in her eyes. She turns and walks away from him. "Xander, I tried to stay away." There's a slight hitch in her voice, "I thought I would never see you again, that you were out of my life."

Xander follows and takes her in his arms, and holds her tightly.

"The day you left, Xander, if you knew what I went through! If you knew how much I loved you, how much I still love you!"

He kisses her passionately, as she loses herself in his warm embrace.

Much later, standing in front of his window, he watches the airport beacon. She sits in the sofa behind him. Xander turns and walks back to her. "And then?" he asks.

"It wasn't long after Whistler talked to me that Angel arrived. He must have had a hex, or a spell, or a whammy, or something done to him, because when he came back he didn't know that he was supposed to stay in LA, waiting for me, and be a champion. Instead he fell for Buffy, who must have done something to him in LA. For months I tried to get him to remember the truth of his destiny. But I failed! He was as dead to me. I lost hope; I wouldn't be a seer and get almost top billing, he wouldn't be a champion and save the world every week. Despite Harmony and the rest of the sheep, I was lonely. I had nothing, just my Prada purses and my BMW. But no hope. Then, well, you and I, and the basement, and, and..."

"Why weren't you honest with me? Why did you keep your future abilities and billing a secret?" Xander asked gently as he sits down next to her.

"Oh, it wasn't my secret, Xander. Angel would have wanted it that way. And I knew so much about what his future really was. If Buffy had found out I was to be his seer it would be dangerous for me and everyone I knew!"

Against his better judgment, Xander remains curious, drawing the explanation out of her. "When did you first find out he was over Buffy's spell?"

"Just before you and I were to leave Sunnydale together. I thought something might be happening when he broke up with Buffy, that maybe he was beginning to understand the truth. Then I found out from Willow that he really was leaving. But he was still lovesick for Buffy. He needed me. I wanted to tell you, but I-I didn't care. I knew, I knew you wouldn't have left Sunnydale, So I...well, well, you know the rest."

Well...wow! That's sure some story, huh?" shaking his head. "And all along I thought Tara's asparagus farts smelled bad! But I gotta tell ya', Cordy, that pile of crap you just laid on me stinks far worse! Jesus, how stupid do you think I am? No, wait. Don't answer that!" He shakes his head again, drawing in a deep calming breath. "Damn!" He sighs resignedly.

She's silent, a bit angry at him, but mostly unsure what to do or say as she waits to see what else he might have. She watches carefully through tear-filled eyes as he visibly comes to some sort of decision.

"OK, fine, I don't believe a word of that, but I'll give you props for coming up with a hell of a story!" he chuckles. "But it's still a story without an ending. What about now?"

"Now? I don't know. I know that I'll never have the strength to leave you again."

"And Angel?"

"Oh, you'll help him now, Xander, won't you? You'll see that he gets out? Then he'll have his work, all that he's been unliving for."

"All except for one. He won't have you."

"I can't fight it anymore. I ran away from you once. I can't do it again! I don't know what's right any longer. You'll have to think for both of us, for all of us."

"All right, I will." He gently cups her chin in his hand, eyes roaming across her lovely features, "Here's looking at you, C."

"I wish I didn't love you so much." She snuggles in closer to him as he wraps her up tightly in his comforting arms.

Meanwhile, outside the cafe, Angel and Willow sneak their way to the side entrance and enter. Willow had run into him and some of his compatriots after her second tryst with the FCG shop rep. (what a hottie she was!)

"I think we've lost them," comments a relieved Willow.

"Yes, but I'm afraid they caught some of the others."

"Come on inside, Angel!" as she hustles him into the main room. "Come inside. I'll help you. Come on in."

"Thank you, Willow. You always were one of the nicest to me."

"I'll get some water"

"Just as long as it's not holy."

Up in the apartment, Xander and Cordelia hear voices. Xander crosses over to the door and opens it a crack, just enough to peer out and see what's going on below. Cordelia comes up behind him and moves as if to go out the balcony, but Xander pushes her back behind the door. Instead, he goes out on the balcony himself. He sees Willow helping Angel with his injuries.

"Willow, what happened?" he calls down.

They both look up, startled.

"The police broke up his meeting, and I was sneaking back home. We ran into each other. We escaped at the last moment, when I threw up a glamour."

"Come up here a moment, would you, Wills?"

Willow nods her head and starts toward the stairs, "Yup, I'm coming."

"I want you to turn out the light in the rear entrance, it might attract police, and big nasty bugs."

She begins to protest, "But Andrew always puts out that light - "

"Tonight he forgot!" he rasps at her.

"OK, OK, I'll do it. Sheesh, don't get your thong all in a bunch!"

By now she's on the balcony with Xander and they enter his apartment together. She spots Cordelia, looks quickly at Xander with a reproving glance, but says nothing.

"I want you to take Cordy home. And don't say anything to Angel."

"What're you nuts! This bit - " she stops upon seeing Xander's glare. "Yeah, sure, sure, whatever! Boy, over five years and she's still got you whipped!"

Xander ignores her comments and leaves the apartment. He descends the stairs and heads to the bar where Angel is still sitting. He watches without sympathy as Angel wraps a towel around his injured hand.

"It's nothing, just a little cut. We had to get through the window."

Xander pours a Lime and Lettuce Libation. "Well, this might come in handy. And you'll owe for that towel you're getting all bloody!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Angel looks at Xander directly, "That maturity thing is still a work in progress for you, isn't it? You can still be such a prick!" Angel almost snarls.

"This from the paleface wearing a Bob Marley wig." He considers Angel for a few more moments and decides to push aside his healthy, normal, and well-adjusted antagonism toward the Fanged Crusader. "Had a close one, eh?" he asks.

"Yes, rather."

"Don't you sometimes wonder if it's worth all this? I mean, what you're fighting for?" waxing philosophic.

"We might as well question why we breath, even though I actually don't, but it's fun pretending to. If we stop breathing we'll die. If we stop fighting our enemies, the world will die."

"What of it? Then it will be out of its misery."

"You know how you sound, Xander? Like a man who's trying to convince himself of something he doesn't believe in his heart. Each of us has a destiny, for good or for evil."

"Yes, I get the point," not really getting it, but the script calls for him to say that.

"I wonder if you do. Look, I'm trying to be decent to you for once. I wonder if you know you're trying to escape from yourself, and that you'll never succeed."

Sarcasm creeps into Xander's next comment. "You seem to know all about my destiny."

"I know a good deal more about you than you suspect. I know, for instance, that you are in love with a woman. It is perhaps strange that we both are in love with the same woman. The first evening I came here I knew there was still something between you and Cordelia. But, since no one is to blame, I demand no explanation. I ask only one thing. You won't give me the talismans of transit. All right. But I want Cordy to be safe. I ask you, as a favor, to use the talismans to take her away from Casablanca."

Xander's eyebrows crawl up his forehead so high they threaten his hairline. "You love her that much?" Xander is frankly astonished.

"Apparently you think of me only as the room-temperature champion of a cause. Well, I am also an ex-human being. And though I was more a jerk than you are, I used to have a working heart, I remember how it feels. Yes, I love her that much."

Xander is pondering his response when the front door crashes open and several gendarmes make their way in. Forrest stalks in and address Angel, "Angel?"

"Yes?"

"You will come with us. We have a warrant for your arrest."

"On what charge?" he asks incredulously, standing to face the group of well-armed men.

"Your piss-poor and insulting imitation of Bob Marley! Half the Rastafarian's world-wide want to tear you to pieces!" Forrest snatches the wig off Angel's head.

"Only half?" Xander inquires amiably, waning philosophic now.

"Yeah, the other half want to roll him up in a pile of ganja and see how well he burns!" He turns back to Angel, "But Captain William will discuss that with you later."

Xander is very amused at the turn of events, "It seems that destiny has taken a hand."

In dignified silence Angel leaves with the officers. Xander watches, his face returning to the expressionless mask he likes to wear.

The next morning, Xander is in Spike's office. He seems a bit nervous as he argues with Spike. "But you haven't any actual proof, and you know it! This isn't London! All you can do is try to pilfer that dumb-ass dread-locks wig of his, and give him thirty days. You might as well let him go now."

"Alex, I advise you not to be too interested in what 'appens with Angel. If by any chance you were to 'elp 'im escape - "

"What makes you think I'd stick my neck out for Deadboy?"

"Because one, you've bet ten thousand points worth of toys 'ee'd escape. Two, you 'ave the talismans of transit - now don't bother to deny it. And, well, you might do it simply because you don't like Buffy's looks. As a matter of fact, I don't like 'er either."

"Well, they're all excellent reasons," he agrees with a smile.

"Don't count too much on my friendship, Alex. In this matter I'm powerless. Besides, I might might never get to play with all those cheap plastic toys."

"You're not very subtle, but you are effective. I..I get the point. Yes, I have the talismans, but I intend using them myself. I'm leaving Casablanca on tonight's carpet, the last one."

Spike is astonished. "'Uh?"

"And I'm taking a friend with me. One you'll appreciate."

"What friend?"

"Cordelia Chase. That ought to put your mind to rest about helping Angel escape. He's the last man, err...vampire, I want to see anywhere near her."

Spike is supremely amused at this turn of events, "You didn't come 'ere to tell me this. You 'ave the talismans of transit. You can chant your name, and 'ers, and leave any time you please. Why are you interested in what 'appens to Angel?" He gets out of chair and crosses over in front of desk, sitting on it's edge while he closely regards Xander.

"I'm not. But I am interested in what happens to Cordy and me. We have a right to go, that's true. But people have been held in Casablanca in spite of their rights."

"What makes you think we want to 'old you?"

"Cordelia is Angel's seer. She probably knows things that Buffy would like to know. Spike, I'll make a deal with you. Instead of this petty charge you have against him, you can get him for something really big, something that would chuck him in a hell dimension for centuries. That would be quite a feather in your cap, wouldn't it?"

Spike nods his head, thinking carefully, planning his plans, scheming his schemes, "It certainly would. The Slayers would be very grateful." He continues nodding his head as plots his plots, intrigues his intrigues.

"Then release him. You be at my place a half hour before the carpet leaves. I'll arrange to have Angel come to pick up the talismans, and that'll give you the criminal grounds on which to make the arrest. You get him, and we get away. To the slayers that last will be just a minor annoyance."

Spike is sure there is something more, and voices his concern, "There's still something about this business I don't quite understand. Miss Chase, she's very beautiful, yes, but you were never interested in any woman."

"Well, she isn't just any woman. I mean, look at that rack!" he leers at Spike.

Spike closes his eyes for a moment as he recalls. "I see." His eyes flash open, then squint in suspicion, "'Ow do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?"

"I'll make arrangements with Angel right now, in the visitor's pen."

"Alex, I'm going to miss you!" Spike exclaims with genuine affection. "You are the only person on Casablanca with less scruples than I!"

"Gee, thanks."

"Go ahead, Alex, make the arrangements."

Spike rings the buzzer and the door opens as Xander rises to leave. Before exiting, Xander looks over his shoulder and adds one more comment. "And by the way, call off your hellhounds when you let him go. I don't want them around this afternoon. I'm taking no chances, Spike, not even with you."


AN: Well, we're finally on the home stretch!And before anyone else says it, yes I know that Cordy's back story is twisted, weak and worse than pathetic.