Disclaimer: Yada, yada, yada, not mine.
Thanks to lilykep for beta-reading and letting me bounce ideas off of them. Also for putting up with how slowly I churn these chapters out.
We're finally getting up to a real moment of significant divergence for the fic. We've mostly followed close to the stations of canon so far, with just a few extra conversations and some light changes, but things are gearing up now.
Next Year's Girl
By Kylia
Chapter 9: You Don't Lie To Friends!
November 28th, 2000
Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles
"Of all the times to have a vision, it just had to be at the first genuine celebrity party I've been to in ages!" Cordelia grumbled, pushing the door into the Hyperion lobby open. "And it just had to be some loser idiot trying to summon a succubus and accidentally getting it wrong to summon a demon that wanted to rip his heart out instead."
Cordelia scoffed. "Why the Powers that Be really cared so much about him, I'll never know." She added, with a grumble. She could understand someone wanting to make a deal with a demon for money, or fame, or power. Sure, it was evil and involved doing things like pledging your virginal daughter to be sacrificed on her 25th birthday, but having experienced being poor - still being poor - she could get it. Not having money sucked.
Though, at least Magnus Bryce being the absolute worst father of the year had meant she was able to meet and become kind of friends with Virginia, which was how she'd ended up at the party in the first place, invited as Virginia's guest since the girl wanted someone she kind of knew and could at least trust at the party.
After years under her dad's thumb and now being on her own, she was still getting used to things. And Virginia seemed to like and get along with her, so...
Cordelia wasn't going to turn down the chance to rub elbows with celebrities, and producers, directors - anyone who might be able to give her an in. She was actually making some very small progress - she'd gotten a small bit in a commercial, all of three seconds in the background - and she had made the short list for another one, both local, rather than national, but local in Los Angeles was pretty good... it was something anyway. Progress.
But between the visions and working here at Angel Investigations, I just can't put the time into it that I should.
"It's hardly our affair to decide whose life has worth or value," Wesley countered, putting a sword back into its place in the weapon's cabinet. "No one deserves to die for one simple mistake."
"You don't start summoning a demon just to have sex with it unless you've already made a whole bunch of mistakes," Cordelia countered. She'd been having a dry spell for months, months! And she wasn't summoning demons! That's what sex toys were for. You had to be seven kinds of gross loser to just think you could summon up a girlfriend.
And then a few extra kinds of idiot to screw up at it so badly.
"I won't deny that it certainly speaks to the man's loneliness and isolation... or that he seems to have quite a few... notable personality flaws," Wesley admitted, hesitating, walking around behind the desk. "But our job is to save lives, not to judge people."
"Judging people I'll do for free." Cordelia countered, grumbling.
"And you're so very good at it," Xander added, coming into the lobby from the direction of his room. "What are we judging people for this time? Poor fashion sense?" He walked around behind the front desk as well, filling up the coffee maker with fresh grounds and then water, before starting it up.
"Summoning demons to have sex with them." Cordelia explained. "Sex with demons - gross, mostly, but whatever. Paying for sex at a demon brothel, completely gross. Summoning a demon to have sex with you? Beyond gross. Even in your most loser phase, you were never tempted to do that," Cordelia gestured at Xander.
"Because with my luck, I'd get myself killed, or worse." Xander shrugged. "It's stupid, really stupid, but..."
Cordelia huffed, rolling her eyes. "Men. You're both such men!" She went over to the desk herself, but only long enough to grab a magazine off the top and sit down on one of the couches, opening the magazine.
"How's Virginia?" Xander asked. "And was the celebrity-filled party everything you wanted?" 'Alex' had been invited as well, but Xander did not want to come. On the phone, he'd told Virginia he would stick out like a sore thumb and didn't have anything to wear to something like that anyway.
Off the phone, he'd also added it sounded boring.
Which it was.
Blessedly, blessedly, boring. No demons, no monsters, no vampires, no witches, no supernatural stuff at all! Just rich people, and hors d'oeuvres and some surprisingly nice champagne.
"She's good. And the party was good too." Cordelia answered. Admittedly, almost everyone in the party would have been useless if a vampire or demon showed up, but it was nice to be able to pretend that everything was normal, for a bit. "Until I got the vision and we had to rescue the loser." She set her magazine down, looking over the back of the touch at Xander. "I tried to call you to help since it's too much daylight for Angel, but you," she gestured at him with the magazine, "Weren't picking up! Isn't the whole point of you being here to help!? You didn't help when Angel and Gunn were robbing that museum either."
"I may be staying here, but I am paying rent," Xander pointed out. "I don't work for Angel."
Given how little you actually pay in rent for what you're getting, you might as well. Cordelia didn't exactly go easy on Xander for rent, but he was paying less than he might for a place like his room anywhere else. Part of that was on the fact that Xander was supposed to be helping.
"You can still help! You're the Slayer. That's what you're supposed to do!"
"I was busy Slaying last time, and I was still showering demon gunk off when you called this time."
"It was three thirty in the afternoon, what were you doing Slaying that early?!"
"Killing vamps while they were asleep, and then getting ambushed by their demon drug dealer, apparently." Xander explained. "It was some big green thing that seemed to be made mostly of pus."
Cordelia saw Wesley look up from whatever he was writing down on a legal pad. "Was it about this tall, with black eyes?" Wesley held his hand out, just above desk level. "No teeth or claws?"
"Yeah. Packed a surprising punch for being so goopy too." Xander replied, raising an eyebrow. "What was it?"
"A Glurgg, most likely. They tend to congregate in sewers and toxic waste dumps. I'm surprised to see one working in drug dealing. Orpheus, I assume?" Wesley made a very English 'hm' sound, and pulled out another legal pad - he had a dozen of them scattered around the office, overed in notes, half-formed thoughts or translations he was doing.
"I think so, but I didn't really stop to ask. Dumped his stuff down into the sewers." Xander blinked. "I won't have to worry about that making a bunch of of teenage mutant demon rats, right?"
Wesley stared at Xander for a moment, blinking. "Uhm - no. Orpheus is effectively harmless except when a vampire is drinking from someone injected with it, more or less. Even if rats were to consume it, it would do very little to them, if anything."
"Good. Because then they'd have to find themselves a wise old turtle to teach them martial arts and that would just get weird." Xander chuckled to himself and Cordelia rolled her eyes. He was making some sort of nerd reference she wasn't getting, but the way he was saying that made it clear. It vaguely registered in her head, but she couldn't place it.
Nor did she want to.
"On a completely unrelated note, since it's not like Angel and I braid each other's hair when you guys are gone, how does he stand on the Darla thing? He seems to be slightly less nuts about it since we rescued her and then he just let her waltz out of here because she wanted him to turn her back into a vampire." Xander changed the topic without any smoothness at all.
Cordelia briefly tried to imagine what Xander and Angel braiding each other's hair would look like. Her brain refused to cooperate. The idea was just that unthinkable.
"He hasn't brought her up, or gone on any stupid assaults on Wolfram and Hart," Cordelia answered. "He's practically domestic - I caught him smelling his clothes when they came out of
the drier yesterday." She'd also asked him if he was on drugs, since he seemed to be weirdly calm.
Xander covered his mouth as he coughed, nearly spitting out his sip of coffee. Gross. "Really?" Xander giggled, smiling.
Cordelia quickly looked away from Xander as he did that, blinking quickly. It was weird, seeing Xander smile now, and it had only been weirder lately. Because as much as he looked like Faith and sounded like her - without the South Boston accent - that was still Xander in there. And leaving aside the fact that he still sometimes walked like a guy - as much as he could in Faith's body - and sat like a guy (though Faith had done that a lot anyway) and - if you knew what to look for - constantly gave off 'guy' vibes, he had gotten better at acting more like a girl, especially when he was around people who didn't know.
But what really made Xander's smile weird in particular was the way that it was Faith smiling, but... the annoying goofiness of Xander's smiles back in high school was somehow still there.
Annoying and endearing, a treacherous little voice in the back of her head pointed out, and Cordelia clenched one hand into a fist.
She did not find anything about Xander endearing. Nothing. Yes, back when she'd been dating him, she'd thought it was endearing, but not now.
"Yes. Really. He was pulling the clothes up to his face and doing a full inhale." Cordelia said, without looking back at Xander, opening her magazine again.
"What, you don't like that fresh out of the laundry smell?" Angel asked, coming down the stairs into the lobby. "Is there coffee?"
"Just finished brewing a pot, still some left," Xander answered. "May as well help yourself." Of course he should, it's the agency's coffee. She made a mental note to demand Xander chip in if he was going to keep drinking their coffee - though he at least didn't eat any of the snacks, which showed he at least had some sense of self-preservation.
Which was just a little surprising.
"And yea, I like the fresh out of the laundry smell, but you're Angel. King of the Brood. Mr. Billowy Coat of Pain. You're not supposed to be enjoying the little things." Xander added.
"Says who?" Angel countered. She heard him pouring himself a coffee.
"It is surprisingly domestic of you," Wesley offered. "Can I hazard to say that this means you're recovered from the Shroud of Rahmon? Perhaps ready to get back to basics?"
"You mean am I over the whole... Darla situation?" Angel asked, and Cordelia turned again, watching him carefully. Angel let out a sigh. "I know I've caused you both a lot of grief over the whole... Darla situation," he said, nodding towards Wesley, then Cordelia. "And the truth is, I just have to come to terms with the fact that Darla may never be ready for my help. I've done all I can, given her a chance. There's no indication Wolfram and Hart's found her, so... she's free to make her own choices. If she's ready for help, she knows where to find me."
Okay, so this seems too easy. Angel didn't just stop obsessing over a pretty blonde like that. On the other hand, he wasn't exactly not obsessing over Darla, just being... detached? He was clearly still wanting to help her, but at least getting that chasing her wasn't working.
"Well, that's good then!" Cordelia said tentatively. "Then all we need is for a new case to really keep you busy, right?"
"A new case would be a good idea." Wesley agreed. "With any luck, one will walk right through that door within a few hours."
November 28th, 2000
Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles
Nothing did walk in for a few hours. The sun had set, and there was nothing going on. Not even a phone call. No visions. Her magazine got boring pretty quickly, and Xander left to go find more vamps or demons to kill pretty soon after sunset, so even killing time arguing with him wasn't an option.
"That's it. You jinxed us," Cordelia said, turning to Wesley. "You said it would be a few hours, well, it's been a few hours, and nothing, and it's your fault."
"I rather doubt that," Wesley countered, raising his voice a little, indignant. "We just need to give it a bit of time. Things are more or less back to normal-"
The doors to the hotel burst open, and even as Gunn walked through, he was holding up a folder, and speaking, gesturing towards Angel, who was reorganizing the weapons cabinet. "I found Darla!"
Oh hell! She'd known it was too easy!
Angel immediately perked up and walked over to Gunn. Cordelia went over as well, hearing Wesley behind her as Gunn opened the folder and showed Angel pictures. "It wasn't easy, but you said keep looking - but between my wide knowledge of L.A.'s low rent motels and the people that work there that owe me favors, I found her."
"You lied!" Cordelia accused, furious. Angel was - he hid things, but this was an outright lie! Straight up saying one thing and doing a different thing entirely. "What the hell Angel?"
"Yeah. Didn't want you to know I asked Gunn to find her."
"Why?" Wesley demanded. "We're your partners and colleagues, we need to be working these things together."
"Figured you'd nag."
"Well you figured right, buster!" Cordelia poked Angel in the shoulder. "Obsessing over Darla is exactly what Wolfram and Hart wants, and you're just doing their work for them! As long as you're wasting time with this-"
"I don't care." Angel pushed her hand away, flipping through the photos. "Royal Viking Motel."
Gunn nodded. "Conveniently located mere steps from scenic skid row. I guess she's not living off Wolfram and Hart no more."
"Which means they'll be looking for her. They were trying to kill her, I doubt they're going to stop."
"And why haven't they grabbed her yet?" Cordelia countered. "No offense Gunn, but do you really think you found her when they couldn't? They have way more resources and people."
"Maybe. She's been moving around and paying cash. If not for motel clerks and cleaners who know what the deal is about what goes bump in the night, I wouldn't have picked up her trail at all." Gunn pointed out.
"Or, they know where she is, and they kept her free so she could keep being a big blonde distraction. It's not like you're prone to being rational when it comes to your ex girlfriends, Angel!"
"If it is a distraction, until I deal with it, it's going to keep distracting me." Angel countered.
"That's the kind of logic that isn't!" She hit Wesley's arm with the back of her hand lightly. "Back me up Wesley!"
"Well - Angel - that is - what exactly are you going to do, if Darla doesn't want your help? You can't force her." It was a good point, but typically weak - Wesley just did not do 'talking to Angel'. They had tea, and he'd been so sure that had worked. Not so much.
"I can stop her from getting herself turned into a vampire, or dying trying." Angel countered. "And if Wolfram and Hart is looking for her and hasn't found her, the best thing to do is find her first." Angel moved to grab his coat, throwing it on.
"If you think we're coming with you on this wild goose chase-" Cordelia started, but Angel was already heading out the door, Gunn in tow. "We're not going to enable you!" She shouted after him.
But he wasn't paying attention. Cordelia huffed, turning on her heel and moving towards the phone. Xander had better pick up this time, or so help her, she was going to kick him into next week, slayer powers or not!
A dialed number and two rings later, he picked up. "Hey Cordy. Another vision?"
"Not this time. Angel. He's an idiot."
"...was he lying about being over Darla?"
"...yes." It was obvious really. She'd been skeptical when he'd said it, but she'd assumed Angel was at least intending to be honest, that the other shoe would drop when Darla showed up again. But nope. Just straight up lying. "Gunn found her and now he's gone to find her, and probably bring her back." She paused. "How'd you like to kill him? I'll help." She ignored Wesley's sudden, horrified exclamation of 'Cordelia!' "I'm serious. I've had it up to here with this Darla nonsense and now he's lying about it!" And Xander knew exactly how she felt about that.
"Okay, so, clearly you're angry about this." Xander said, speaking in a calm, steady voice. Oh, no, you do not get to start talking like you're the voice of reason on anything!
"You're damn right I am! So, get back here so you can set his bed on fire while he's sleeping! Or - I don't know, put holy water in his morning blood."
"That wouldn't kill him, he'd need to drink an entire glassful, straight, at least." Wesley objected from the sidelines, trying to grab the phone away from her. Cordelia pulled away, holding both phone and receiver.
"Yeah, I don't think Angel would be stupid enough to do that." Xander countered, clearing hearing Wesley in the background. "Buffy only got to pull it on that guy in her Crucible-mentomb thing because he was crazy." Xander made a mock-cuckoo whistle to go with it. "Angel's many things, but he's not that. And you don't actually want him dead, Cordy. And I don't either."
I probably won't in an hour or two, sure, but that's not now! Right now, she did want him dead, even if she was self-aware enough to get that wasn't likely to be a permanent state. "Who are you and what have you done with Xander Harris?"
"Well, that's kind of the point, I'm not exactly Xander anymore, now am I?" Xander countered, a sudden exhausted and bitter tone in his voice as he let out a long exhale, and Cordelia closed her eyes, feeling a twinge of something she was not going to call regret. She opened her eyes again as Xander went on. "Angel's one of the good guys, and as long as he is, I don't actually want to kill him. Hell, I'm not even sure I hate him anymore."
"Okay, seriously Xander, what the hell? I didn't actually expect you to take me up on my offer, but seriously," she repeated herself: "what the hell? You hating Angel is one of the universal constants!" Like Buffy being whiny, Willow being a hopeless nerd and Giles cleaning his glasses every time he didn't want to talk. Xander hated Angel. Water was wet.
"I'm not saying I'm gonna shed a tear if he loses his soul and I get to stake him, but yeah, I don't hate him anymore. Had to happen sometime. That said, if he is on the Darla Train all over again, him losing his soul is possible, so I'm on my way." Xander hung up before Cordelia could demand more answers from him.
"You-!" Cordelia strangled off her words and slammed the phone on the receiver, looking at Wesley. "Yes?!"
"I appreciate that you're upset about Angel lying about Darla, but wanting him dead is an absurd overreaction! Even if you didn't Expect Xander to take you up on it-"
"Wesley, Angel lied. To us. Not a fib. Not an omission. Just straight, up, bald-faced, big fat lie! One he knew we'd learn the moment Gunn showed up. And he wasn't even a little apologetic about it!" At least Xander, for all his uselessness, had tried to apologize. It wasn't enough, given what he'd done, but still! And Angel had lied in his apology about the way he'd been an idiot before! "And you may be okay with that because when it comes to Angel you have the spine of a pool noodle, but I'm not!" Cordelia stalked away from Wesley.
"I don't - I refuse to even waste my time refuting such a spurious assertion!" Wesley snapped, falling back on aggressively Britishness and fancy language - it even sounded like his accent was getting a little stronger there for just a moment. "Whatever Angel's faults, he's still our employer, and the Champion the powers have chosen. Have you gotten any visions about this being a bad idea for Angel to pursue this course?"
"You know they're not that specific!" Cordelia answered, "And would Angel actually listen if I did!?" Wesley opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then closed again, looking away. "Damn right." She snapped, rolling her eyes again. She stared at the door, glaring daggers, as if that would make Angel get back here faster.
"So yeah, by the time Angel gets back here, I'm not going to want him dead anymore, but that's not the point! The point is that Angel is supposed to be our friend, and sure he's like the emotionally stunted socially awkward friend who doesn't ever talk about himself, and thank god for that because he's terrifying when he tries to share," Wesley hadn't been here for that ungodly disaster involving the cops at Detective Lockley's precinct getting in touch with their emotions, "but he's still supposed to be our friend, and friends do not lie to each other like that!"
"Angel is -" Wesley started, then closed his mouth. "I agree with you that his behavior on this subject is - unfortunate but - Yes, Angel may be falling into Wolfram and Hart's trap here, but it was a trap expertly designed to hit him in his weakest points. And if we turn on him now, we'll only be helping Wolfram and Hart."
Now it was Cordelia's turn to open her mouth and then close it, with no good answer to that. It wasn't that Cordelia wanted to turn on Angel, but - if he kept this up, she might. And that would only help Wolfram and Hart.
"That excuse won't work forever," Cordelia finally said after a moment.
"Certainly not." Wesley agreed. "I may not be expressing my disappointment the same way you are, but I am not happy with Angel's conduct of late." Wesley went to the bookshelf in Angel's office, coming back a minute later with a heavy tome, which thudded on the table as he set it down.
"Is that book useful, or just a bit of 'light reading' for fun?" Knowing Wesley, it could be both. Sometimes, she wondered if he would find reading the phone book fun.
"I'm fairly certain there's no magical solution to Angel's obsession, short of the sorts of dark magics that can be just as harmful to the caster as the target." Wesley answered. "Modifying memories, changing personalities - and casting spells like that on vampires can be even trickier."
"So, no?"
"No." Wesley nodded.
Cordelia sighed and sat down in front of one of the computers. There was nothing productive she could do with her time right now, so she brought up a Hollywood news site. What else could she do?
November 28th, 2000
Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles
"Ten bucks Angel returns empty-handed because Darla ran away again," Xander said, looking over Angel's weapons cabinet. "...I really hate that I'm at a point in my life where I'm jealous of Angel's weapons." Xander added, absently.
He'd returned half an hour after her call, and now they were waiting for Angel and Darla to return.
"It's not what you have, it's how you use it." Cordelia countered without looking away from the computer for more than a second., then blinked, realizing what she'd said. Did I just- what the - She shook her head, trying to change the topic: "And I'll take that bet. If Angel's this obsessed, he's not letting her run."
"Anya would agree with you about the first point," Xander replied, and Cordelia blinked, looking over at Xander. "You know, how you use weapons." Xander added, somehow managing to put an innocent expression on Faith's face. His face.
He wasn't very good at pulling the 'who me?' thing before... how does he get to do that now?
"She was alive for over a thousand years, she's run into a lot of people with a lot of weapons. But still, some of these are... pretty impressive. This one would have been useful against this demon with armored plates around most of it's torso," he gestured and Cordelia stood to get a better look at what he was gesturing to. It was one of the stabby swords Angel had, made her think of the ones they used in Sword and Sandals movies.
"The Prothgarian Broadsword?' Wesley looked up from his book. "It's quite an interesting weapon, actually. The Prothgarian order goes back to the 8th century and-" Cordelia looked past Wesley to the expression of mute horror on Xander's face, which shifted to a pleading one, as if begging her to get Wesley to shut up, but Cordelia smirked and shook his head as Wesley started to go on.
Fortunately for Xander, Wesley only got another minute in before the doors opened and Angel walked in.
Darla right behind, carrying a small travel bag.
Xander let out a breath and reached into his pocket, pulling out a ten dollar bill. Cordelia walked over, grabbing it from his hands.
"Darla. Staying over?" She looked at the bag.
"I'm dying." Darla replied flatly.
What a tragedy. Everyone was dying. Was this something more immediate, or just a former vampire being overdramatic when faced with her mortality.
"So just the one night then?"
"Dying?" Wesley asked, coming up to stand by her. Xander stayed by the weapons cabinet, glaring daggers at Darla. Okay, so I get that he doesn't like vampires, and of course Darla is messing with Angel but she's human and... that's personal. What did Darla do to him? When did they ever meet?
Angel staked Darla to save Buffy, right? That's what Wesley had said a few weeks ago, when she'd asked for more background on this. She hadn't been involved with the Scoobies then, no one had ever mentioned it later.
So during that first period, she supposed Xander could have met her, but still.
"He doesn't believe it," Darla said softly, jerking her head towards Angel.
"What is going on, Angel?" Wesley asked carefully, being the pool noodle again.
"Wolfram and Hart showed her some medical files saying she only has a few months left." Angel explained. "She's been trying to get herself turned by any vampire she can find."
"Only because you won't!" Darla snapped.
"So for more than one night then," Cordelia deadpanned. "You know, despite appearances, this building isn't actually a hotel."
"There's plenty of room." Angel countered.
"You don't believe that Wolfram and Hart told her the truth?"
"Of course not. It's Wolfram and Hart. It's some kind of mind game. That's the whole point of why they brought her back."
"They brought me back so I could make you lose your soul, and I failed, so they tried to kill me. And then they realized they didn't have to." Darla snapped. "You just don't want to believe it so you don't have to face the consequences."
"I feel like if they wanted Angel to lose his soul, they'd have a better chance if they tried hitting Angel and Buffy with a love spell." Xander finally commented from behind Angel. "I know firsthand how crazy those make someone."
"He really does. This is another mindgame," Cordelia had to agree.
"Wolfram and Hart can't be trusted," Wesley pointed out. "It's not as if you have the medical expertise to know if what they're saying is faked."
"I was dying of syphilis when I was turned, and I'm dying of syphilis now. I do know how it feels." Darla shot back. Cordelia raised an eyebrow. A little bit TMI, but... okay, that was a point. On the other hand, if Wolfram and Hart didn't know how to make someone -
Wait. Does that mean she had syphilis while she was a vampire, or did it come back because she came back human? Angelus and Darla had sex and then Angel and Buffy-
Cordelia grimaced. Granted, it's not like Buffy would have shared if she had gotten syphilis, and she knew from sex ed class - as excruciating as it had been getting it from a teacher so nervous he stumbled over every other sentence - that there were cures for that now but...
I have never been more glad in my life that he never stopped to notice me back when I thought he was handsome 'salty goodness'.
"And I don't trust Wolfram and Hart," Darla added. "But I know a thing or two about mind games." She looked at Angel. "So do you. We played them for more than a century."
"Yeah, but you were just soulless, bloodsucking demons. These are lawyers." Cordelia countered. She was entirely serious, but she heard a very small chuckle from Wesley, standing next to her - clearly trying to hide it - and Xander didn't even bother to hide his laugh, stepping back, eyes half-closed.
Okay, so it is funny, in a sad, pathetic sort of way.
"She's right," Angel admitted. "We were amateurs." Darla gave Angel a sour look.
"And if you're wrong? What then?"
"I'm not. And I'm gonna prove it to you." He walked closer to her and Wesley, lowering his voice. "Keep her here, watch over her for a while. I'll be back soon."
Okay, so on the one hand, no, no, and hell no. On the other hand, if she was here, they could keep an eye on her. If this was a mind game, she didn't trust Darla to not be neck-deep in the whole thing. She was evil, as bad as Angelus, or close, and whatever her 'breaking mirrors because she feels guilt' thing a a few weeks ago, seemed perfectly willing to become a vampire again, so clearly she didn't feel that much guilt if she was all ready to become an evil monster just to save her own life.
Sure, there's a lot I'd do to not die, but become a vampire is not one of them. Especially since it wouldn't even be her, it would be whatever demon ended up moving into her body.
Though I suppose I'd look good in the whole goth dominatrix look some vampires seem to have going for them... Cordelia closed her eyes a moment, trying to banish a very alluring mental image of herself from her mind.
"Of course," Wesley said, and Cordelia nodded.
"We'll keep an eye on her. Don't worry about it."
Angel nodded to them, and turned, walking for the door, stopping as Darla spoke up.
"You can't force me to stay here." Oh yes we can. Darla was just a human, they outnumbered her, not even counting the fact that Xander had Slayer strength. Darla wasn't going anywhere.
"You're not a prisoner." Angel told her, and Cordelia wasn't sure if he was lying again, or actually believed that.
"I've been hearing that a lot lately," Darla murmured.
"Just give me a chance, okay?" Angel pleaded. Darla said nothing, just staring at him, Angel did the same, and then after whatever silent Vulcan mind-meld they had going was done, Angel turned, leaving.
As soon as Angel was out of the door, Cordelia walked towards Darla, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"Okay, so, first up, ignore what Angel just said. You are a prisoner," Cordelia told Darla cheerfully.
"I'd have to concur with that," Wesley added.
"See, you've gotten Angel all tied up in notes for a month. More, even."
"And we can't say we really like you all that much." Wesley was walking alongside her as they both got right in front of Darla.
"So, so sorry about the whole dying thing," Cordelia said, meaning it just a little "but if you try to leave, we will hit you."
"On the head." Wesley confirmed.
"With very large, and heavy objects." Cordelia nodded. "Okay?"
"And if that doesn't work," Xander suggested, walking around to stand on Cordelia's other side. "I'll be happy to break your arms and legs."
"Always nice to know where I stand," Darla observed, not seeming afraid of their threats. But, at least she wasn't trying to run away again. She looked at Wesley and Cordelia. "I know all about you two, Wolfram and Hart - you're Angel's little friends, trying to keep him on the straight, narrow and boring." She looked at Xander. "They never said anything about you. But - you...you were there, when Angel saved me from -" Darla blinked. "You moved like a Slayer." She laughed, "Does that mean the insipid little cheerleader he left me for is dead? I know she was around long enough to make him lose his soul once, and he didn't even manage to kill her-"
"No. And not for lack of trying by your old Boss, that vampire with the bat face." Xander replied. "Or Angelus, yeah. He even tried to destroy the world and Buffy stopped him. Buffy's fine. But yeah, I'm a Slayer too."
Darla stared, blinking, confused.
"Apparently the technicality that is 'medical death' for all of a few seconds counts." Cordelia explained. "Who knew magical forces from before the dawn of history would be so literal?"
"Right." Xander nodded. "But seriously, I meant it. Try to leave, try to hurt Cordelia or Wesley, look at them the wrong way, or just say or do something I don't like, and I will gladly break both your legs. Broken limbs don't heal fast, and if you don't get them splinted, they don't heal right. And they hurt. A lot." Xander was smiling as he said that.
Why does he hate her? Xander didn't like vampires. Hell, he hated vampires - Angel apparently no longer counting - but this - there was something personal in the glee with which he threatened her.
Darla stared at him. "...I've had enough people come after me for revenge to know that look." She wrapped her arms around her midsection and sat down on the circular couch. "Who did I kill?"
Cordelia really hated that she was agreeing with Darla.