Title: The Fine Line
Author: onlyann (Anne)
Posted: 01-19-2004
Email:
Rating: NC-17
Category:
Content: C/A
Summary: This is in response to a challenge posted by Psychofilly back in Sept. 2003 on the ‘Hiatus Challenge thread’.
Spoilers: BTVS Season 3
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made. Ryan Chamberlain and Kevin Collins- characters belonging to General Hospital – Jill F. Phelps, Executive Procedure; Port Charles Julie Carrruthers, Executive Procedure.
Distribution:
Notes:
Feedback:
Thanks/Dedication: Becky and Kel. Those lovely talented women have given me nothing but encouragement, help, and support on this story.Part 39
“Well?” Cordelia asked. She frowned at the partially eaten French toast on Angel’s plate. “Oh, taking cooking lessons from a vampire is so stupid.”
“I.I …it was good. Really,” Angel pushed at the egg-coated bread with his fork. “It’s fluffy and the consistency is just perfect and it tasted good.” Angel looked up at Cordelia’s frown. ”Cordy, if I can say that then it’s true.”
Cordelia cocked her head. “Really?”
“Yes. Look,” he shoved his plate towards her,” I ate some, because it was good.”
Cordelia crossed her arms and leaned back. “I think you’re humoring me-- but if this story is ever told, I’m holding you to your word--I got a vampire to eat French toast. Deal?”
Angel grinned. “Deal.”
Cordelia slanted her gaze at him. “You should do that more often.”
“Eat French toast?”
“Smile, silly,” she said, giving her own smile.
Angel couldn’t help but grin even more.
“Like that,” she laughed, pointing at him, then sighing. “Well, as fun as this as been,” she pushed up from her stool, “I have to go take a shower.”
“Cordy?”
She turned towards Angel. “I’ve got to go to the library.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Shoot. My car. When can you get my car? Not until tonight, right? That’s not going to work.”
“Why do you have to go to the library? Buffy hasn’t—“
“Please, not everything revolves around Buffy.” Cordelia paused. Shoot, she was supposed to keep Angel thinking sappy thoughts about Buffy. She wasn’t supposed to bitch about her.
"Then why do you have to go?"
She frowned. There was no sign of the dark shadow in his eyes that he had last night when she mentioned Buffy. He wasn't thinking about her. Cordelia wrinkled her brow, trying to figure out something else to say that would get him brooding.
"Cordy?"
Oh nevermind. She'd figure out something later. "I have to go to the library -- the public library -- for school. Snyder said he’d let me off detention if I wrote a paper for Mr. Edwards. He ordered that I do an essay on a 18th century author.”
“I’ve got some books here.”
“Yeah. I know.” She shook her head, and slipped back on the stool across from Angel.
“I’ve—“
“We’ve discussed this. You have depressing taste in books. I’m sticking with Jane Austen. I’ve read “Pride and Prejudice.” I’ve seen the old movie and the two mini-series -- I know the story. I just need to get the book for footnotes and a computer to write the paper on." She blew out a deep breath.
“So, I need to go to the library…unless, “ Cordelia tilted her head towards Angel, “you have a computer and some up-lifting Jane Austen hidden somewhere.“ She looked at Angel’s blank stare. “Didn’t think so. Library.” She nodded and then rested her chin on her hand. "Except the library doesn't have evening hours on the weekend. Hey,” she looked up at Angel, "I could take your car."
"Ah, no."
"I can drive."
"Not my car." Angel shook his head to emphasize his point.
"Oh, that's just wrong. You are the one that made leave mine. You could at least lend me yours. I have to go to the library. Your weirdness over your “classic” is going cause me to get detention."
"It's not weirdness." Angel scowled. "Anyway, I brought your car back last night."
"You did? When?" She said, sitting straight up.
"After you were asleep.” Angel frowned. He didn't want her to go to the library.
"Oh. Well, thanks." She swung around on the stool and got to her feet. "Shower time."
***
Angel made his decision before she even left the kitchen. Cordelia was not driving off into the daylight. He waited though until he heard the shower running before he left the kitchen.
He strode purposefully to the weapons cabinet in the living room. He studied each weapon carefully before picking a slender dagger. He nodded as he rubbed his thumb along the razor-sharp metal.
Angel walked along the shaded side of the atrium until he reached the opening to the stables. He draped the blanket that he had been holding over his head and ran ten feet under the sun to the structure.
He circled Cordelia's car, stopping at the front passenger-side tire. He slid the blade between the grooves and pushed through the initial resistance until the dagger was fully embedded. Satisfied, he pulled it out, went to the back tire, and did the same. The minute slashes were undetectable.
Part 40
Angel washed the breakfast dishes and waited for Cordelia to come back downstairs. He patted dry the last plate and put it in the cupboard. He stared up at the intricate designs of the plastered ceiling. Cordelia was obviously not rushing. He decided to drink a carton of blood as he waited some more.
He tossed the empty container in the trash and went upstairs, not wanting to wait any longer.
He opened the bedroom door. Cordelia was oblivious to his presence. His head tilted tracking the movements of her upper body.
She was bent over, her chest, shoulders, and head bobbing as she fingered her dark hair into the hot air of the blow dryer. Angel moved to the bed then sat on the edge and stared. The robe she was wearing couldn’t stop gravity from working its magic on her breasts. With each bob, Angel saw a glimpse of plush, golden flesh. His gaze dragged to the long dark tendrils that swept the floor as she continued to finger the damp tresses into something manageable. It was where most of the fragrance was centered. Shampoo, conditioner, her-- it was all there.
He clenched his fist to stop from reaching out.
“Cordy,” he whispered. “Cordy,” he repeated louder as he stood, stepping back to the door.
“Eek!” The blow dryer fell to the floor as she jerked around. “Scare me, why don’t you?” She clutched at her robe to bring the sides together at her neck.
“Sorry,” Angel said, as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“What are you doing in here?”
“It’s my room.”
“Okay….” Cordelia bit her lip. “But you put me here--and privacy? Big thing with me.” She tightened the terry-cloth belt around her waist.
“I just wanted to get some clothes. I didn’t realize that you were out of the bathroom.” He shrugged.
Cordelia scrunched up her brow. “You’re a vampire -- you didn’t hear my hair dryer?”
“I wasn’t paying attention.” Angel shrugged again.
Cordelia pursed her lips. “Well, get out. I’m not dressed.”
“Can I get some clothes,” he held her gaze,” before you kick me out of my room?”
“You put me here.” Cordelia frowned at him. “Fine,” she said, “just tell me where you want me to put my stuff.”
“You’re okay,” Angel said, as he moved towards his dresser. “I just want to get some clothes to put in the other bedroom.”
“Well, hurry.”
“Cordy, you can keep on drying your hair. I won’t get in the way.”
Cordelia narrowed her eyes at him for moment. “Errgh,” she grunted, as she flipped her head down to finish her hair.
Angel went straight to his dresser and pulled out some clothes, while his eyes remained fixed on Cordelia. From his new position, he could no longer catch a glimpse of her breasts but he was granted an enticing view of her rounded ass as she bent over.
He placed the handful of clothes that he had taken out of the dresser on the bed. Cordelia was now standing up and looking in the mirror, using her fingers as a comb, blithely unaware of his presence. Or so she wanted him to think. Her stiff shoulders told a different tale.
He didn’t want her to ignore him, pretend or otherwise. Angel took a long stride towards her, knowing she couldn’t see him in the mirror. His fingers clawed out ready to entangle themselves in the richness of her hair. His hand changed direction and lightly rested on her shoulder. “Cordelia,” he said, pulling her slightly to him.
“Arggh!” Cordelia said, stumbling backwards.
Angel’s arm reached around her waist, steadying her against his body. “It just me. Forget I was here?” A chuckle rose in his throat.
“Don’t do that.” Cordelia attempted to shift around. “I could’ve had a heart attack.”
“Haven’t yet.” He shrugged as he held on to her more firmly.
“Only a matter of time,” she snorted. “Let me go.”
“I need to get into my closet.” He brought his other hand down to capture the other side of her waist, picking her up and moving her away from the mirror and the closet door it blocked.
Angel watched as she silently fumed, crossing her arms firmly against her chest. He gave a quick shrug and went into his closet.
“Angel,” she said, as he gathered the clothes he had taken from the closet and the bed.
“Yes,” he said, cocking his head.
“Rules.” She hugged her body tighter. “There has to be rules.”
“Rules?” He raised a brow.
“Yes,” she huffed. “Rules. If I’m going to stay here, then I get to have some privacy. This is my room,” she said, waving her hand around.
“Really?”
Cordelia frowned. “You put me here,” she repeated. “And, you can’t just walk in whenever you want.”
“I didn’t know that you were in here. I just --“
“I know, getting some clothes. Well, you got them,” she said, pointing to the bundle in his hands. “Now, leave.”
“Don’t you need to get to the library?” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Maybe, you should get dressed,” he said as he left the room.
Part 41
Cordelia stared at the closed door for a full minute before she let out an undignified grunt. She didn’t get it. Downstairs, cooking French toast with Angel had been fun. He had been nice, charming even, in a stuttering sort of way. But up here, he was just creepy and crowding her again.
How in the world had Buffy put up with his dramatic flips in mood? She shook her head. Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe that was the real reason they broke up: Buffy realized that Angel was nutty.
She groaned, grabbing her jeans out of her bag. It wasn’t that. Buffy never looked at Angel like he was nuts, she just sighed and batted her big green eyes at him.
Maybe the creepiness was caused by the fact he was a vampire? Maybe it was normal vamp weirdness?
She almost wished that she could ask Buffy. She shrugged her shoulders. Angel had helped her above and beyond anyone that she had ever met. She would just have to accept him, weirdness, and all. She couldn’t ignore all the good stuff he’d done for her -- that would be way too bitchy. Even for her.
Feeling a little bit more settled, she finished getting dressed and left the bedroom. “Angel,” she yelled as she walked down the hallway.
“There you are.” She nodded, as he came out of a room down the hall. “I need my keys.”
“Okay.” Angel reached in his pocket and placed her car keys in her hand.
Cordelia looked past him into the room. “This is really girly.” Her gaze wandered around the room, taking note of the big canopy bed – without the canopy -- thick frilly rose-colored curtains, and the elegant Victorian armoire.
Angel stepped back. “Dru-- Spike always let her decorate how she wanted. At least her dolls are gone.”
“Oh.” Cordelia wrinkled her nose in distaste. “This was their room?”
Angel nodded.
“Lovely. Evil’s boudoir,” she said, flipping her keys in the air. “Well, I’m outta of here.” She turned and left.
Cordelia paused at the top of the stairs. Angel hadn’t done his “you can’t go out alone” routine. She shrugged and went to her car.
***
Angel put his clothes in the armoire, his concentration focused on the side door.
Sure enough, just moments later, Cordelia barged in. “Angel,” she yelled, her feet pounding fast up the stairs.
“I thought you left?” He turned to her.
“What happened to my car?” She took up the space in the doorway. “Two,” she shoved up two of her fingers, “Two!” she repeated. “I’ve got two flat tires. What happened?”
Angel shrugged. “Your car was fine when I picked it up from Starbucks.”
“Well, it’s not fine now.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “Two flat tires. I only got part way out of the stables then, Pfft.” She smacked her hands together.
“I heard you the first time.” Angel shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know-- maybe you ran over a sharp rock pulling out.”
“Maybe you did it,” she huffed, “last night.”
“Pretty sure that I didn’t.” Angel frowned. “Which ones? The back and front passenger side?”
“See,” she said, pointing at him. “You did do it.”
“No. I just felt a slight pull to the right when I was driving it last night. When was the last time you put air in them?”
“What?”
“Air? Have you ever put air in them? You know that tires need air, right?”
Cordelia scowled at his rolling eyes. “There was nothing wrong with them.”
“Obviously, that’s not true. Probably a slow leak.”
“A slow leak that just erupted?”
“It happens.”
Cordelia narrowed. “Well, go change them.”
Angel walked over to the window, standing off to the side, opening the drapes slightly to let the morning sun into the room. “I don’t think so.” He let the curtain fall back.
Cordelia grunted. “Fine, let me have your car.”
“So, you can give it flat tires?” Angel shook his head.
“It wasn’t my fault.” Cordelia clenched her fist at her sides.
“I can’t help you. Sorry.” Angel kept shaking his head, crossing his arms against his chest.
“I have to go to the library,” Cordelia said.
“I’ll drive you tonight.” Angel sighed.
“I told you, it’s not open at night.”
“We’ll break in,” he offered.
Cordelia’s eyes widened. “I’m not breaking into the library.”
Angel shrugged. “Then I don’t know what to tell you.”
Cordelia glared crossing her arms. “You’d better tell me something that gets my car fixed and me to the library.”
Angel dropped his hands. “Cordy, you’re going to need at least one new tire, or do you have two spares?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Do you even know if you have one?”
“New?” Cordelia’s glare turned into panic. “How much is that going to cost? Oh, God.”
Angel stepped closer to Cordelia, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll call Erik on Monday. I’m sure he can get some tires cheap.”
Cordelia chewed on her bottom lip. “How cheap?”
“Cheap enough, I’ll make sure.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“Can’t he do it today?”
“He doesn’t work on the weekends. But, come on, we can take the tunnels to the library. There’s an access nearby.”
“Tunnels? You want me to walk in the sewer?”
“The tunnels are not the sewer, Cordy. And it’s the only way you’re going to be able to get to the library today. Break, in tonight, or tunnels today.”
“And you’re going to go with me?”
“Unless, you think you can find your way through the tunnels on your own?”
Cordelia let out a long sigh. “Fine, let’s go.” She waved Angel out of the room.
“Shower first.” He shrugged.
Angel waited until Cordelia’s gaze went from his clothing to his face. “You’re already dressed.”
“Yesterday’s clothes. I didn’t think you wanted me to wake you up to get a change of clothes or to make you breakfast in the nude. You don’t recognize the sweater?” He raised his brow.
“Nude? What? Whatever, just hurry up.” She jerked away from him.
***
Angel stripped and stepped in the shower. It hadn’t been too long. Cordy’s scent was still swirling. He smiled as he picked up the duck and Cordelia’s bottle soap. The iridescent soap eased his muscles and fueled the growing ache in his groin. Angel maneuvered the net scrunchy between his legs, closing his eyes when it soothed the ache.
***
Cordelia paced up and down the hall, her hands fisted behind her back. Geez, how long did it take for a vampire too take a shower? She stopped, turning on her heel to stare at the door. Maybe he drowned?
She didn’t want to be at the library all day. She banged on the door. “Angel? Angel!”
She gave a frustrated huff and pounded on the door again.
The door suddenly yanked open. “What?” Angel’s fist was clenched around the doorknob and he wore a serious scowl.
Cordelia gulped, her eyes drifting over his chest and the water droplets trailing down to the towel that was wrapped around his hips.
She braced her shoulders. She wouldn’t let a half-naked, gorgeous, but mad vampire divert her. “Are you done yet?”
“What happened to privacy, Cordelia?” He raised a brow.
“I didn’t barge in,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just asked a question.”
“Can I get dressed? Or should I go like this,” he asked, his hand leaving the door and gesturing to his towel.
“Oh, hurry up.” She turned away. “At least your fashion choices will be quick,” she grumbled heading down the stairs.
Part 42
Cordelia slumped on the sofa, her shoulders as deflated as her tires. She rubbed her face trying to wipe away the worry about her useless car and how much it would cost to fix.
Angel said it would be cheap but she wasn’t that confident in his judgment. He might gawk at the price of pasta but thought nothing about buying expensive sheets, clothes, and towels. Seeing how much he cared for his car, she was willing to bet that paying an outrageous price for tires would be okay with him.
“Crap.” She needed her car; without it she was really trapped. She had planned on using the money she’d saved along with the paycheck that Miss Twittle had given her last night to move into another motel, hopefully with some money left over. But now she couldn’t make any plans about leaving Angel’s.
She would have to rely on Angel for a little while longer. She wanted to cry. She was feeling helpless again.
Cordelia clenched her fists and lifted her chin. She wouldn’t feel sorry for herself. She would deal with this new problem because that is what Cordelia Chase did - she dealt.
She glanced up the steps. It would be easier to do if Angel would just hurry up. She needed to get to the library and lose herself in the lives of Elizabeth and Darcy. Then she wouldn’t have to think about the increasing lack of control she had over her own.
Cordelia forced herself to concentrate on itemizing the things in her backpack. She had pen, paper and Mr. Edward’s assignment. She checked one more time before glancing up the stairs again. How long could it possibly take for Angel to choose one black shirt over another?
Cordelia crossed her legs. Her fingers started playing an agitated rhapsody on her thighs.
She looked down at her rapping fingers and slapped her hands still. Bruising her legs wouldn’t get Angel down any quicker.
Cordelia sucked in a deep breath for a shout to hurry him up. Her burgeoning yell turned into an inelegant “Pfft” as Angel came down the stairs on his own. She rolled her eyes at his all-black attire. The long-sleeved shirt was loose over his black pants. The shirt had to be silk; it draped too well off his broad shoulders to be anything else. The first couple of buttons of the shirt were undone exposing a peek of white t-shirt. Twenty minutes for that?
It boggled the mind.
But, in truth it made her wonder – did Angel know that his outfit accented his hotness? She wrinkled her brow at the improbability of that scenario. He couldn’t perfect his “look” in a mirror. That meant his hotness was natural. Cordelia frowned. It wasn’t that she hadn’t realized that Angel was gorgeous or that she forgot it was just that she had pushed it to the back of her mind. Who could blame her? After all, Buffy and the fact that Angel was a vampire who could be extremely nasty without a soul were definite reasons why she shouldn’t be fixated on his hotness.
With that censure back in her mind, Cordelia uncurled her legs and got to her feet. “‘Bout time. What are you a girl?”
Her lips down-turned into another frown at his raised brows. Obviously he knew he didn’t look the least bit like a girl. Probably knew about his hotness too.
She huffed and swung her backpack over her shoulder. “Can we go now?” She stopped as she noticed the blanket under his arm.
“What’s that for? A picnic?”
“The access doesn’t open into the Library, Cordy. ”
“Oh.” Cordelia licked her lips. His tone was so matter-of-fact. He wasn’t complaining even a little bit about being dragged to the library during the day. She sighed again as Angel grabbed his coat from the back of the sofa. Great, her life sucked and she was feeling guilty.
***
Angel turned to see why Cordelia was no longer beside him. He frowned as he saw her staring out through a break in the wall of wisteria her shoulders slumped. Her stance was similar to when he saw her at her locker, except this time she didn’t seem to be considering blowing anything up, but only hiding.
Before he knew what had caused her rare show of vulnerability but this time he didn’t have a clue. He kept to the shade as he stepped closer, looking out to see if it was something real that caused her change in demeanor or an inner thought. His frown deepened as his gaze followed hers to the bright red convertible tilted to the right on its rims.
Angel’s hand touched her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s just a car, Cordy. It can be fixed,” he said softly, hoping his words would make her feel better, even though he had no intention of calling Erik anytime soon.
Cordy’s shoulders dipped even further. “It’s not…” She blew out a breath of air. “You’re right.” She straightened and looked away from the red convertible.
Angel held on to her shoulder. “Don’t worry about the new tires, Cordy. Diamonds remember.” He gave an encouraging smile.
He wasn’t pleased that her shoulders dipped again or that her eyes clouded in an unreadable expression for a second.
“Sure.” She gave him a tight smile and straightened as she moved away from his touch to walk ahead. Then she turned towards him. “Where are these tunnels?”
Angel frowned again as his attempts to reassure her failed.
“This way.” He tugged at her backpack’s strap. “I’ll carry it.” He said at her expression.
Angel didn’t understand the long look she gave him. “Sure, why not?” She finally said, shrugging and allowing him to unhook it from her. He really didn’t understand the resignation in her voice.
Part 43
“Darlings, I just can’t help but think that Barney is wrong to be so worried.” Miss Twittle said to the four cats who listened with rapt attention. She stroked at the beautifully groomed longhaired brown tabby sitting on her lap then nodded into the cat’s large gold eyes. “Brenda, I met Angel, he’s very nice. Really.”
Miss Twittle smiled, reassured by Brenda’s purr of encouragement, then frowned as the shorthaired gray cat let out a howl. “Luke, you don’t trust anybody, so your opinion doesn’t count.” Luke rubbed his long, lean body in between her ankles, purring and nudging at her. “Flirting, does not work with me, Lorenzo Spencer, I have not yet forgiven you for trying to trick everyone else out of their breakfast.”
Luke stood, leaning his front paws on Miss Twittle’s hosed knees his claws safely sheathed, and stared up at her. “You’re just shameless.” She tsked, scratching behind his ears. “Oh, Laura, what are we going to do with him.” She looked to the immaculate blonde Persian that was pushing at Luke to find a position near Miss Twittle.
Jumping on Miss Twittle’s lap, Laura settled next to Brenda her purrs joining with the other cat’s to create a loud but gentle vibrating duet.
Miss Twittle’s other hand started to stroke Laura’s long fur and looked down at her and Brenda. “Angel’s really quite charming and very protective of Cordelia. I’m sure that Barney is over-reacting. Jax, what do you think?’” The handsome tuxedo cat jumped on the flowered couch and glided towards Miss Twittle’s beckoning hand.
Miss Twittle looked at both Luke and Jax. “You two think I should call her. What about you two?” She glanced at the female cats on her lap. Two pairs of wide gold eyes glanced up at her with similar long blinks.
“Yes, you’re right,” she said, taking in the female cats’ gaze.
“ I’m sure that I’m correct in my assessment of Angel’s character, but Cordy hasn’t called and it is,” Miss Twittle looked at the grandfather clock in the corner, “after twelve. I will call her.”
***
The tense muscles that had glued Angel’s face into a frown slowly began to relax. When they first entered the tunnel Cordelia had been too quiet for his liking.
But, as they had been walking, Cordelia’s silence began to grow into a grumbling about how dark and dank the tunnel was. She wasn’t happy but at least a portion of her spirit was coming back.
“I should’ve brought a flashlight,” Cordelia griped, and then she suddenly lurched back and, squealed. “Something furry just ran over my shoe.”
“ It was just a rat,” Angel said.
Cordelia shook her foot as if the rodent was still clutched to her boot.
“Oh, #just# a rat? Well, that’s a #big# comfort.”
Angel cupped her elbow and brought her close to his side. Her nose wrinkled in disgust and made her look adorable.
“Come on,” he said as he led her through the tunnel. “I’ll make sure you don’t get eaten by a six-inch rodent that’s more scared of you than you are of him."
“Doubtful and it was two feet long at least, with really big teeth.” Cordelia flung her arms out wide.
“Oh, I missed that part.” Angel said, recognizing the teasing dare of her arched brow and the self-mocking drama in her exaggeration. He wanted to laugh but an out-loud acknowledgment would ruin the moment. He was just pleased that Cordelia’s earlier dejected stance seemed to be completely gone. He really should find the rat and thank it.
“That’s because it didn’t attack #your# foot.”
“That explains it,” he said, dryly. Cordelia seemed to appreciate his tone because she nodded barely hiding the smile beneath her pronounced scowl.
Suddenly, her face scrunched in true panic as a melodic ring sounded in the tunnel.
“Shoot. Stand still.” She quickly seized at her backpack hanging from Angel’s shoulder.
Her hands rummaged through the small front-zippered compartment of the bag. “I forgot to call Miss Twittle,” she explained, giving a sigh of relief as she pulled out her cell phone and flipped up its lid before the ringing stopped.
“Hi, Miss Twittle. What? Um, hold on.” Cordelia pulled up the phone antenna. “Can you hear me now?” she asked, speaking louder. “Great. I’m sorry. I know I should’ve called you sooner.”
Angel took a step closer and concentrated on both Cordelia’s voice and the distinctive timbre of Miss Twittle’s. The other woman’s clear enunciation and the tunnel walls worked together to create an excellent echo that allowed him to clearly hear both sides of the conversation.
“Honey, I was worried. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m on the way to the library. I have a paper due Monday.”
“I hope not alone, dear. Where’s Angel?”
“Right next to me, Miss Twittle.”
“Very good.”
Angel watched as Cordelia frowned at the silence that came from the phone.
“Are your accommodations satisfactory?”
“Um, yeah.”
“And where exactly are you staying? And where are you? Now there is a strange echo.”
“On the way to the library, I don’t have the best service – and I’m staying with Angel, you know that.”
“You really should have scrutinized your cellular phone plan before committing. The commercials are full of the varying attributes of the seemly endless services available.”
“Yes, Miss Twittle, I should’ve.”
“Yes, well, there is still time and more specifically where are you and Angel staying, dear?”
Angel watched as Cordelia’s forehead wrinkled, obviously trying to decipher Miss Twittle’s question.
“Not #with-with# him, Miss Twittle. I’ve my own room.” Cordelia stared at the floor as she gave her answer.
“Dear, the address. I would like to see you and make sure you’re settled in comfortably. Bachelors are notoriously shabby. Take- out food, clothes strewn all about, clutter every where.”
“Angel cooks and is as neat as a pin, Miss Twittle. He picks up after me.”
Angel raised his brows. Cordelia had noticed that he had cleaned up after her whirlwind rush to get dressed Friday morning.
“Yes, but I’ve seen those college movies --”
“Angel’s not a fraternity boy, Miss Twittle.”
“Yes, well….”
“Miss Twittle, what’s wrong?” Cordelia asked.
Angel wondered if Miss Twittle would just come out and ask to come over or if Cordy would clue in first that the woman was having doubts about Cordy living with him.
“Nothing, dear. Um, you don’t want to ask about Fluffy?”
Angel shifted on his feet as he waited for Cordelia’s answer to Miss Twittle’s code for danger.
“Fluffy?” Cordelia’s eyes widened. “Oh. No.”
“Are you quite positive?”
“Completely positive.” Cordelia nodded into the phone.
Angel felt lighter at her answer. But, Miss Twittle’s sigh stalled the feeling. Miss Twittle’s character wouldn’t let her accept the answer at face value; she would have to see for herself. Angel tapped Cordelia on the arm and gestured that she give the phone to him.
Cordelia shook her head.
He sighed as he snatched the phone out of her hand. “Hello, Miss Twittle.
“Angel?”
“Yes. I hope you don’t mind, but while you and Cordy were talking, I had a thought - Miss Twittle, would you like to come over for dinner? I would like to thank you for all the help you've given Cordelia."
Cordelia slapped his arm and he grabbed her hand. “Hold on, please, Miss Twittle, Cordy is saying something.” Angel gently twisted Cordelia’s hand and curled her into his side, urging her to be still and quiet with his gaze. He felt the overwhelming urge to kiss the scowl off her face.
He turned back to the phone in his hand. “How about tomorrow night? Cordy says she wants to finish her paper tonight.”
“Dinner? Sunday? I…yes, I can. Since, the store has been closed I have managed to watch all of my daytime shows this week. But it should be early I don’t want Cordy to be up too late on a school night.”
“Of course. Six o’clock?”
“I’ll need your address.”
“Miss Twittle, of course, but please don’t tell anyone else.”
“Angel, I’m completely cognizant of the need to keep such information secret.”
Angel could practically see Miss Twittle’s shoulders brace into rigid steel and the stern look that accompanied her offended tone through the small phone.
“Of course you do, I apologize. I’ve rented –“
“Angel, not over Cordy’s cell phone. They can be scanned.”
“Oh. Of course,” Angel couldn’t hide his confusion at her reprimand.
“Pay phone. Cordy knows the number. I’ll be expect your call in an hour.”
“Very cautious.”
“Angel, we are talking about Cordelia’s safety.”
“Of course, good bye, Miss Twittle.”
“Angel, before you hang up may I speak to Cordy?”
“Of course.” Angel handed the phone to Cordelia along with a stern glance.
Cordelia arched her brow at him and grabbed the phone. “Hi, Miss Twittle, it’s me.”
“Yes, dear. I’m quite excited about dinner. I think all make a bundt cake for the occasion.”
“That would be great, Miss Twittle.” Cordelia’s happy words were said through tight lips.
“Now you get you’re paper done. Education is very important.”
“Yes, Miss Twittle.”
“Give Angel a hug for me. I may have been a bit harsh with him a moment ago.”
“That won’t…okay, goodbye.” Cordelia said pleasantly as she slammed the phone closed.
"Well?"
" Well, what?" She glared at Angel.
"My hug?"
"You've got to be kidding," she said, shoving the phone towards Angel and her knapsack.
Angel took the phone and tucked it back in the front pocket of the backpack.
“What the hell were you thinking?” She smacked him on the arm.
" That, I’m going to tell Miss Twittle that you didn't give me my hug.” He grabbed her hand.
"You're insane.” Cordelia couldn't yank her right hand away, so she smacked him with her left.
Angel stopped it mid-flight and held both hands tightly. "And don't you dare start kicking me,” he warned. "Or do I have to go find the monster rat?"
Cordelia snorted at his ridiculous threat.
He loosened his hold her hands slightly. "Cordy, I just invited Miss Twittle over for dinner.”
Rolling her eyes, Cordelia stepped back. “Dinner? Would that be when Miss Twittle and I are eating omelets while you stare or were you planning to pull out the blood for her? And how are we supposed to avoid the fact that West Hell has been abandoned for twenty years?”
“Cordy.” Angel tucked her to his side. “Did you miss the part where Miss Twittle had doubts about you living with me? We don’t want her to have any, do we?”
“But --.”
Angel brought a finger up over her lips. “Once she sees its not sinking into the ground, she’ll probably think it is a good idea that you are tucked safely away in West Hell. And, I’ll cook something other than omelets.”
He loosened his arms a bit to let Cordelia face him fully. “And the vampire thing?”
“I can eat. I just don’t because it doesn’t fill me up or keep me alive. I’ll keep the blood away. I haven’t subjected you to it have I?’
Cordelia pushed at his chest. Angel let her go a little more but kept a hold on her wrists. “It’s in the refrigerator. And I wouldn’t put it past Miss Twittle to check out the refrigerator in an over-abundance of concern that I’m not eating well-balanced meals.”
Angel dropped his hands. “You saw the cartons?” Angel had begun to believe that she hadn’t. He had shoved them to the back, hoping that Cordelia wouldn’t notice; after all, she hadn’t said anything about them when she got the eggs for the French toast.
She took a step back, pulling her hands away and crossing her arms against her chest. “Hard to miss – I’m not blind.”
“You didn’t say anything --”
“You’re a vampire…. blood as food is way too obvious to even mention. Was I supposed to say, -“ ’Eww, there’s blood in the frig --- oh my god, you’re a vampire’ “, she said rolling her eyes.
“Um--“
Cordelia scrunched up her face. “When do you eat?’
Angel shut his dropping jaw only to open it again. “What?”
“Well, we’ve had dinner and breakfast and I haven’t seen you eat, so when do you? “
Angel stared at her for a moment then shook his head. Then placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her. “When I’m hungry,” Angel said, pushing her forward. He didn’t like the conversation.
“Eww. That sounds like you just go out and grab when the urge hits.” Cordelia turned in his arms to face him as she kept stepping backward. “Don’t you have a schedule or do you just walk along and go “ ‘ ooh, I’ve gotta eat’” ? That’s got to be inconvenient. What if there aren’t any containers of blood around.”
Angel stopped as Cordelia kept walking backwards, her words stalled but the questions in her eyes still apparent.
“What’s wrong?” She changed her direction and took a couple steps closer to him.
“Why are you asking me this?”
“You brought it up,” she said.
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t,” Angel commented, though at that point and time, he wasn’t really sure. He was almost positive that they had been talking about Miss Twittle, not his eating habits, but he wasn’t really sure anymore.
“I can’t believe you invited Miss Twittle over,” Cordelia said as she shook her head. “You’re going to have to put some lights in the front.”
Angel shook his head. Maybe he just imagined the part where Cordelia was asking about his blood. “I did.”
“You did? When?’
“When you moved in,” Angel said, grabbing her hand again, urging her to start walking. “You haven’t gone out the front since then, that’s all.”
Cordelia yanked her hand away and put her hands on her hips. “Look, this #dinner# is your idea and problem. I’ve got a paper to write. #You# think of the story to tell Miss Twittle this time, if she gets suspicious. And,” she said, glaring, “if you get me fired then I’ll find those stupid diamonds.”
“Deal.” Angel smiled and cupped her elbow turning her forward and leading her further into the tunnels.
Part 44
Angel shifted in the hard seat of the library chair. He still wasn’t sure how he ended up with Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood ’ in his hands but he knew that Cordelia had something to do with it. She had mumbled that he had to read something from the 20th century as she raised an elegant eyebrow and shoved the book in his hand.
He glanced again at the page. It wasn’t actually bad but the dynamics of four southern women’s friendship really didn’t do much for him. He’d rather look at Cordelia.
He kept the book raised, but eyed her over the pages. She had settled behind a computer once she pointed him to the library’s phone to call Miss Twittle, telling him that she would be okay with a landline as long as he reassured her that no one was near by and listening. Angel was still confused at Cordy’s instructions even though it seemed she had been right.
Then Cordelia had given him the book. Now she was chewing on a strand of her hair as she huddled over the library’s computer. Her fingers were awkwardly pecking at the keyboard and her kept glancing at the Jane Austen book then back to computer screen.
He closed his book and got up, moving quietly until he was right behind her. “So, how is it going?” he said softly, breathing in the fragrance of her hair.
“Personal bubble.” She jerked around in her chair. “You’re supposed to be over there,” she said, pointing to his empty chair, “reading.”
Angel shrugged. “Can’t I see how you’re doing? Embarrassed by your work?”
“No,” she shot over her shoulder as her eyes went back to the computer screen.
Angel leaned in closer. Her smell made him want to taste. He lifted his eyes from her neck and scanned the essay on the screen.
“Cordy, this is good.” Angel wasn’t exactly surprised, he knew that Cordelia wasn’t dumb, he just hadn’t realized that Cordy would put so much energy into schoolwork.
He leaned in closer and covered her hand, using her fingers on the mouse to scroll up to the beginning. Then he read her essay from the first paragraph.
Cordelia had managed to explore both the societal mores of the 18th century and the love story of Elizabeth and Darcy, intelligently and with humor. He was impressed and he told her so.
"Don't sound so surprised that I have a brain,” she said, tilting her head back to look up at him.
Angel smiled down at her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Yeah. It works and everything."
His smile got wider as she pursed her lips together and blew out disgusted sound at him.
"What?"
"I just hope that Mr. Edwards likes it. Detention sucks.” She clicked “print” then went over to the printer. "Geez, this thing is slow," she mumbled as each page came out at a snail's pace.
“So you're done? We can go?"
Cordelia turned back to him. "Did you read any of it?” She asked, pointing to the popular book Angel had discarded.
"Yeah.” He shifted. “It was okay, just….”
“Too girly for a macho vamp?”
Angel looked at his shifting feet then glanced up at Cordelia. “Yeah.”
“Oh, well, getting in touch with your feminne side shouldn’t be embarrassing. Sorry, you thought so,” she shrugged.
Angel really didn’t like the patronizing way she looked at him. “I --“
Cordelia placed her hands over his chest. “It’s okay, Angel. You’re a guy, a dead guy, but still a guy -- I shouldn’t have expected more.” She pulled her hands away as she gave him a sad smile that made him feel like he was two years old.
He shifted his feet again in embarrassment. Then he looked into her twinkling eyes. He shook his head as he realized that she was teasing him. If she had been at his side when he was soulless the world would have been at their feet.
Part 45
Cordelia rolled her shoulders and then plopped down on the stone bench centered in the atrium of the mansion. She patted the space next to her beckoning Angel to sit beside her in the shade.
“Cordy?” Angel slid in next to her, safe under a shelf of entangled wisteria.
Cordelia sighed, twined her hands together and rested them on her knees. She took another deep breath and then looked up at Angel. “Peanut butter is more than fine with me. Omelets, and French toast, way great, too.” She cocked her head and coughed uncomfortably. “I just think that Miss Twittle will expect more.”
“She may want a showing of the four food groups?” Angel tangled his fingers with hers. “Don’t worry,” he said, looking up as the late afternoon sun edged closer to the horizon. “We’ll go shopping for the right stuff this evening.”
Cordelia chewed on her bottom lip. “Angel, I know I said it was you’re idea, but I can’t expect you to “really” entertain Miss Twittle. Sure, a lot of this is your fault, but still, you’re going above and beyond. I can fix this. I’ll just tell her that Damien was caught -- maybe in Mexico. Then neither of you has to worry about me any more. I can’t leave just yet, though,” she said apologetically as she shrugged. “I have to wait for my car to get fixed. Sorry,” she said tensing at Angel’s hard stare and tightening grip on her hand.
“Um, Angel?” she said, trying to pull her hand away again.
Angel’s dark gaze softened at her movement. “I’m sorry,” he said gently as he tilted his head towards hers. He raised her hand and brushed their entwined knuckles against his lips.
“It will be all right,” he whispered. He brushed her hair off her face, letting his fingers enjoy the silky texture. “You worry too much.” He stood and pulled her up with him.
“Angel?”
“Shh, it’s okay.” Angel leaned in closer, his lips only inches away from Cordelia’s, his hands inching down her body to find her waist.
Cordelia gasped and jerked away. “I… I...need to go proof my paper again.”
“Of course.” Angel stepped away, crossing his arms against his chest. “I’ll make you some lunch.”
“Um, sure.” Cordelia ran into the mansion and up the stairs.
Part 46
Cordelia flopped on the bed, drawing her knees close to her chest. She chewed her bottom lip and rocked on the mattress. Angel had been about to kiss her. Every instinct in her body screamed that fact no matter what her mind’s rationalizations yelled.
Her life may suck but she was still Cordelia Chase and her body’s reaction beat down the overwhelming voices in her head. The one thing she knew with a surety, no matter how fucked things had become, was when a member of the opposite sex found her attractive.
Cordelia knew that she was pretty; too many people had told her for it to be false. She didn’t see it, not really. When she looked in the mirror she just saw a girl with brown hair and brown eyes that with the right outfit looked pretty darn good. But that didn’t mean much, the right outfit could do wonders for anyone.
But even knowing what too many people had said, she also knew that Angel hadn’t been impressed by her looks. Between her and Buffy, Angel’s attention had been always focused on the blonde.
Except just then, down in the garden Cordelia had felt that she was the one he wanted but she didn’t feel like gloating. Rather she felt more nervous than she had since she started losing control of her life.
***
Angel followed Cordelia into the house more slowly.
Sitting on the garden bench, feeling the smooth skin of her hand and the warm flesh in his grasp, he knew he had to have more. Her running away only made her a challenge and made touching her a necessity.
Angel knew where she was and if she actually tried to escape from the mansion, he knew he could find her. Cordelia’s scent was imprinted on every cell in his body.
He would take this slowly. He would much rather have Cordelia squirming under him. Unless she refused. Then he’d take her any way he could get her.
Continue on...