Title: Shimmer, Shimmer Vampgopop
Author: DamnSkippy
Posted: 06-03-2004
Email: damnskippytoo@gmail.com
Rating: R
Category: Angst, Humor, Minor Smut
Content:
Summary: On a scorching hot day in the dilapidated Hyperion hotel Cordelia confronts Angel about sleeping with Darla and everything falls apart - both the roof over their heads and their lives. When they are trapped together and Cordelia is injured, Angel must use drastic measures to save her life, and in the process he discovers some important truths about his feelings for Cordelia. The hard part comes when he tries to make Cordelia admit the truth to herself.
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Archived with Bertha Blue's permission.
Notes: This is set in S2 after Disharmony but the clothes gift didn’t happen. Cordy is still pissy and Angel, while wanting to make it up to her, can only take so much abuse.
This story was based on the following challenge by Psychofilly. Thank you, Becky, for shaking up my muse. Angel's broody, Cordy's bitchy and the two are stuck in an unfinished/unfurnished Hyperion room with a faulty door that for some reason, Angel can't break down. (The reason is up to you, also it's daytime and no fire escape access.) In no particular order: A secret is revealed; Someone gets a boo-boo; and did I mention no air conditioning? Temperatures rise, two stubborn people butt-heads and sparks fly. A/C, ust or smut. Setting can be either late season two (post beige/pre Pylea) or season three (post Billy/pre Birthday).
Much love goes to Becky for her POV bitch slapping and other great suggestions and to Helen for the new scene and hint/wink at pacing. I hope I improved both. This would be even more crap without yous twos.
Feedback:
Thanks/Dedication: To the most generous and lovely person I know, Bertha Blue. She not only paid an ungodly amount of money for my ramblings, but has graciously allowed everyone to share in her winnings. A big round of applause for her kind heart and support of the Angel's Food Drive. You're the best!
Coalescence, \Co`a*les"cence\, n. The act or state of growing together, as similar parts; the act of uniting by natural affinity or attraction; the state of being united; union; concretion.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Life Lessons – The Weather and Other Constants
A yellow haze hid the San Bernardino Mountains from travelers along the I-10 leaving Los Angeles. It was a good day to escape the city as a veil of smog and pollen coated cars, skin, throats, and eyes. There was a smog alert, a pollen alert, a heat index alert, and three Sig Alerts. L.A. was nothing if not alerty.
Sitting in front of her window air conditioner, holding a glass of ice water to her temple in deep thought, Cordelia Chase was too caught up in her own thoughts to heed nature’s warning signs. As the grimy blanket enveloped the world outside her apartment, the curtain that had blinded her eyes was finally lifting.
For three days and nights following Harmony’s betrayal at the red-bird theatre Cordelia had been reevaluating her ability to tell truth from lies and the awful reality was she sucked as a human polygraph.
Everyone she had cared about, everyone she ever trusted had lied to her. Harmony, Xander, her parents… But the worst of them all was Angel. She had been positive that Angel was sincere when he said she was his friend and family and yet he had fired and abandoned her. A lie that almost killed her.
No, she could no longer trust her own instincts. That’s why she decided to let someone else judge for her: Samuel L. Jackson.
In “The Negotiator” there was a pivotal scene about eye movement and lying which had stayed with her. The memory of that scene rushed back to her on the street outside the theatre when she and Angel argued about Harmony. After mentioning how crazy he would have been to have slept with Darla, his eyes had shifted up and to the right when he said, “You know I would never do that.”
Seeing his eyes stray from hers at that moment immediately triggered Sam Jackson’s explanation that eyes that moved up and to the right meant the person was searching his right brain for a story to cover his ass. Or was it to the left for the story and to the right to remember the truth? Maybe renting the movie and watching it again would have been a better plan than storming to the hotel and confronting him, but earth logic and doing things the easy way were never Cordelia’s forte.
Besides, the whole theory rested on the flimsy notion that he even possessed a brain, right and/or left, and the jury was still out on that one. Whatever his eyes said today would sway her one way or the other. Maybe. If he was still undead alive after she finished with him.
Part 1 – Unwelcome Guests
The rusted metal hinges swelled in the damp heat and squeaked announcing his visitor. No one was expected and Angel’s first thought was friend or foe. Stealing swiftly to the landing’s edge, shadowed and breathless, he waited.
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead between his gold eyes and slithered down his nose. It clung to the tip daring him to remove it. But the experienced predator would not give the interloper any warning by swiping, shaking or pushing out his lower lip to blow it off. There it dangled waiting patiently for its eventual fall and splash.
Thwacking footfalls edged closer. Definitely human. No demon would wear flip-flops. The stride was succinct and determined. Female. Pissed female. What woman is mad at me now?
“ANGEL!”
Cordelia
He jerked and the sweat on his nose fell and joined the pool of it suddenly flooding the pores on his chest and armpits. He didn’t know at that moment whether the clammy feeling started because he was anticipating a fight with a demon or because of the woman who approached. These days both were dangerous.
The French doors slammed behind her. Unflinching and focused, Cordy started up the stairs, head down, mumbling to herself about vampires and blonde bitches.
“Cordelia.”
“Ack!” She grabbed the railing and her chest. “Angel, geez. Please. A little cough once in awhile would really be appreciated.”
He almost laughed but considering their current “we’re not friends” relationship, he didn’t think she would appreciate it. The splayed hand clutching her chest brought his eyes to the sweat stain on the white shirt between her breasts. He didn’t think she would appreciate him staring at that either, so he decided to be as unemotional as possible as he spoke. “What are you doing here on a Sunday? Did you have a vision?”
She answered with enough emotion for both of them. “Am I bothering you? Sorry if my visions interrupt your busy brooding schedule. I’ll try to suffer on your behalf when it’s more convenient for you in the future.”
Normally the verbal slap would have had the weight of guilt heavy on his shoulders, but this time he didn’t deserve it and said so. “Don’t do that. You know I’m sorry for everything that happened. I’ve apologized over and over again. I know the visions are important and so are you, so just tell me. Did you have a vision?”
Cordy continued up the stairs, stiff-backed and confident. His shadowed bulk became more distinct the closer she edged. “You could say I had a vision. Oh, no. That’s not the right word. How about epiphany? You like that word. You’re all about epiphanies.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed and jaw muscles tightened when she mocked the most important moment of his souled life thus far. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I was kind of busy.”
“Sorry to disturb your nap. Or were you in mid-brood? Hard to tell the difference really. Don’t worry this won’t take long. Just answer one question and I’m out of your hair.”
Angel started inching back as Cordy took one and then another step closer. Her presence was suddenly stifling him more than the heavy humidity of the afternoon which made even the wallpaper sweat.
“I was just about to get some lunch so what is it?” He turned before that finger she was itching to poke in his chest could get cocked and headed back to his room.
He stopped in his tracks when she asked, “Did you have sex with Darla?”
As he turned, his vision picked up the resolute set of her jaw and one hand firmly gripping her hip while the other’s clasp practically shattered a plastic bottle of water. He could see actual steam rising from the boiling perspiration on her skin and the anger that seethed beneath it. It was obvious this question and Cordy were not going away.
He opened his mouth but nothing came out. The lie he was about to repeat got lodged in his throat as he stared into the stubborn glare of her allergen irritated eyes. He wondered for a moment if he could fire her again to get rid of her, but spun around and walked away instead.
Part 2 – House Warming
How did this happen? I was in my room, contemplating my sins because it’s Sunday, and I feel more human doing it on Sunday. I try to do some on Wednesday in case the fundamentalist Baptists have the inner track and Saturday on the off chance this whole Christian thing is a fad. There’s really not enough time to appease all the Gods, but I do try to mope facing East whenever possible.
“Damn it, Angel, you’re ignoring me. Again!”
One of those sins I was seriously brooding over was firing my best friend and lying to her. I am now over it.
“If you’d stop following me, you wouldn’t notice I’m ignoring you.” He quickly opened and closed door after door lining the abandoned, cluttered hallway whipping dust up in his wake. He’d been doing this seemingly senseless task of door opening and closing all over the second and third floors and was now midway through the fourth.
“Angel! Just answer my question and I’ll leave you alone," she said as she swiped the dusty sweat from her forehead. “Would you slow down for a minute? Please." The polite word was squeezed out between clamped jaws.
Dropping his hand from the knob, he sighed, turned and lost all focus. She was heaving. Bent over with her hands planted on her knees, he had a clear view down her tank top and the glistening bosoms beneath.
Angel didn’t question why she was out of breath. He was just enjoying it. She was more tired than not these days which he attributed to the stress of getting the business back on track and their strained relationship.
But a year of body-racking visions had begun to stretch her physical limits. Combined with the current heat, humidity and chasing a vampire around three floors of a hotel, her limits were officially passed.
“Angel? Just tell me the truth.” Cordy’s eyes were on the carpet and not the peeping Tom in front of her.
The spell broken, it took him a second to remember the question. “I’ve already answered that.”
“You lied,” she gasped between gulps of air. “Your eyes shifted, Angel. Up and to the right. You lied.”
For a moment he thought she knew. That she had somehow read his mind. Then she’d kept talking and he was just confused. “What are you talking about?” He turned and started down the hall opening and closing the next door in line and then moving on.
Cordy lumbered after him. “Your eyes, Angel. When you said you’d never sleep with Darla. They shifted up and to the right. You were searching your right brain for a story.”
He laughed.
“Don’t laugh at me, mister! It’s a known fact,” she said.
He halted and turned, dumbfounded by what she’d just said. He watched as she took in his disbelief, crossed her arms in front of her and raised her eyebrows.
Angel knew that look. It was her I-don’t-know-what-I’m-talking-about look also known as the Queen C Bluff.
“Don’t tell me,” he said. “You read that in Cosmo probably taking one of those men are so stupid quizzes.”
“No, smart ass. It was in a movie.” She put her hand to her mouth but the dreaded “movie” word was already out.
He snickered. “A movie? You trust something said in a movie over me. Thanks, Cordy. That makes me feel really special.”
Turning from her again, he moved quickly down the hall more anxious than ever to get away. Telling her the first lie was difficult. But she was forcing him to add another and another on top of it. He was about to be smashed under the weight of them all. He needed her to leave. Now.
Cordy followed as best she could, the heat and constant motion depleting her energy. “They do research for movies you know. Besides, it was Samuel L Jackson!”
“Oh, then it must be true.” He slammed another door and risked a look behind him. She was four doors down and propped against the wall with an outstretched arm. He waited too long and was caught staring when she suddenly looked up.
“Angel? For crap's sake, why are we up here?” she asked.
Another lie passed through his lips. “Security check. Caught a vagrant in here just last week."
Angel knew she wasn't buying it when her head tilted and her lips pursed spraying a patented, "pfft" out between them.
Well, it was partly true. There had been a vagrant. But his real mission was to find a room so disgusting that she would refuse to stay in it long enough to wear him down. He did have vampire stamina but occasionally even he needed help outlasting the Queen.
Turning from her death glare, he resumed his search. “You can always just give it up and leave," he said over his shoulder.
“Not a chance, mister. I risked heat stroke and a lung infection to get the truth out of you, and I’m not giving up until you talk or I die. And right now my death feels pretty damn imminent,” she said quietly to herself. Moving too quickly, Cordy swooned then settled after she gulped a few deep breaths.
Angel laughed. “If I really thought death would stop you, you would’ve been drained before the second floor.”
“Yeah, yeah, stop trying to seduce me with your sweet talk and just tell me the truth!” She yelled at him as he rounded a corner.
Suddenly the familiar beat of slamming doors stopped. The sizzling stillness was interrupted only by the buzz of flies. “Angel? Angel!!” Cordy’s eyes darted all around in panic. Tumbling forward on stiff legs, she finally caught up to him standing in the middle of what appeared to be the Hyperion’s share of the city dump.
“Yuck! I thought all these rooms were equally disgusting, but this is a new level of ewww,” her scrunched nose and forehead accentuated the revulsion in her voice. “I didn’t know you rented out rooms for fraternity parties.”
“If you don’t like my new home, you’re welcome not to stay.” He sat on what could have been discarded rags left over from the last plague and rested his back against the peeled wallpaper across from her. Lolling his head forward and yawning, he closed his eyes to her fidgeting and began the process of shutting off his other senses to wait her out.
Cordy kicked a rusted pork and beans can from her intended sitting spot. That fact that he flinched at the high-pitched pinging gave her some satisfaction. She stomped on an old newspaper and loudly scraped the floor with it hoping to further irritate him while she cleaned a spot to sit. But when all it did was raise more dust that choked her and his only reaction was to twist his neck to crack it, she harrumphed, folded her legs and sat.
His new “home” was just an above-ground sewer minus the cozy ambiance. One obvious reason he had chosen this room over others was the still working Venetian blinds that sheltered the room from the midday rays. The other reason was equally obvious...ode de squalor.
Cordy fought back the rising bile burning her esophagus. The taste was now on the back of her tongue and she hefted the water to her mouth and sipped. The nearly hot liquid chased most of the acid reflux back to her stomach, but not her ire at the cool, calm and totally relaxed man across from her.
The room looked like someone had lived and possibly died there. A mattress leaned against the crumbling plaster wall with deadly springs poking from the stained and ripped cover. Shredded furniture suggested an inhabitant prone to fits of rage and the heaps of cans and wrapping papers said he apparently ate a lot of beans, chiliburgers and fries from Tommy’s.
The gastric consequences of such a diet and temperament made Cordy wonder if that mountain of crusted brownish whatever in the corner had been his emergency toilet. The fleet of flies hovering there seemed to confirm that theory.
Looking at Angel with his head lowered and his arms crossed seemingly oblivious to the muck and her discomfort, vengeance suddenly seemed more important than truth.
“Don’t even try to out clever me, buster. I can stand the filth as long as you can. Pfft. Longer. Look how long I’ve put up with working for a corpse.” She crinkled her nose at a morbid smell. “Speaking of...is that you?”
Angel's whole body tightened and twitched at the insult and his chest vibrated with the growl trapped there. He glowered at her, unable to hide his reaction.
“I believe that’s a dead rat,” he replied with a sniff. His mouth loosened into a smirk as he said, “From the direction, I’d say it’s somewhere near your butt.”
“Oh, crap!” Darting up unsteadily, she tripped on her flip and flopped against the door shutting it hard. The rest happened so quickly there was nothing anyone could do. Rotted, swollen wood ripped and explosive booms sounded beyond the door. The entire room quaked from the cacophony in the hall that seemed to last forever.
Angel’s head snapped up at a sound but was too late to move. He could only stare, dead air escaping his lips, as he watched the ceiling beam fall toward Cordy.
“Cordelia!” he screamed. He lunged toward her but was knocked down as chunks of plaster and beams pummeled him from above. The sound of his name howled in terror was the last noise that echoed in the room as he was buried.
Part 3 – Bringing Down the House
He wasn’t sure if it was moments or hours, but it seemed that as quickly as it started, it was over. After the tremors and clamors, there was nothing but stifling silence and clouds. Dust from plaster, dust from the opened up ceiling, dust from the disturbed floor, and son of dust choked the room.
A shroud-like stillness sheathed him like the familiar blanket of death and for a moment he felt at peace. Then he remembered.
“Cordelia!” Angel burst from beneath the mountain of destruction oblivious to the unstable structure around him. He tripped and fell toward where he last saw her, but he still couldn’t see clearly through the fog.
“Answer me, Cordy. Are you okay?” His voice and body shook more violently with every second of dead air.
From what seemed like miles away, she coughed. And then spit and then angrily fanned at the grime. Her actions only stirred up more of the grit which only pissed her off and came through loud and clear in her voice. “Oh, I’m frickin’ fine. Just goddamn peachy. How the hell do you think I am?”
He finally saw her outline pinned against the door. She was a portrait in grays, the powder storming around her settling in every crevice of her body and around every hair. Her mouth opened wide as she tried to hack out the film coating her tongue and throat. “Heecch, phtuey.”
But, it was the dog shake that changed everything. Angel thought he’d never seen a bouncier or a more beautiful sight. He was about to smile as relief filled him, but the copper scent that slammed against his scorched throat muzzled it. A wet crimson stain pooled and widened on her gray chest.
“Cordy. Your chest. You’re bleeding.”
“What?” She looked down and watched as her blood soaked her shirt.
“Angel? I think I’m going to fall now.” Cordy’s knees bent and she slumped. She didn’t feel his arms catch her, only that she was there and now she was here, where Angel had been sitting. He hovered over her, his fingers gripping her arms, his cool body acting as a canopy against the sultry day. She fought the urge to faint and vomit, her senses suddenly overloaded with moldy death and damp rot.
Her eyes desperately searched his for strength. Instead she found worry and gold flashes of his demon’s hunger. Her mouth went even drier as his nostrils flared at the fresh blood so close.
She sat up and steeled herself against the pain and his instincts. “Angel, I’m okay.” Her hand pushed at this chest. “Don’t crowd me. It...it’s okay. I can take care of myself.”
Angel jolted up and away from her. His feet kicked at plaster debris and stomped on splintered wood pulverizing it. “I need to get you out of here, damn it. I’m going to check out the damage in the hall.”
Alone, she pulled the tank away from her chest and assessed the damage to her left breast. Something, a nail protruding from the beam or possibly the beam’s edge, had sliced through her top and bra, almost giving her a mastectomy. She needed stitches - lots of them – to stop the torrent of red from escaping. And some anesthesia wouldn’t hurt.
“Okay, that’s pretty bad,” she quietly told herself. “Thank you, God, for vampires. Heh. Never thought that prayer would come out of my mouth.”
Angel returned and hesitantly knelt down. “Uh, Cordy. We’re stuck.”
She glanced toward the ceiling, gave God the hairy eyeball and sighed. “I take it back.”
Grabbing his shirt, she pulled his nose to hers and roared. “What kind of a vampire are you? Go! Hit stuff! Make a big hole! Pound your inner vamp moppet! Do whatever you have to do, but just rescue me, you jerk!”
“Cordy, calm down, okay?” He pried her fingers from his now permanently wrinkled rayon and manacled her wrists to push her back. “Look. The hallway above...hell, most of the building that was above us...is now just outside that door. It’s a cave in, and I can’t budge any of it. We’re stuck here until the sun goes down, and I can leave through the window.”
Her features became animated as a brilliant idea struck. “Oh! The fire escape! I’ll go down the...”
“This is a hotel, not an apartment building. They don't put fire escapes on hotels.” Angel ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his neck stretching it back and forth as he massaged.
“Well that's stupid. Who made that rule?" Cordy looked at him accusingly.
"Gee, I don't know. Maybe it was the evil hotels-with-no-fire-escape club of which I must be the president! Is that really important right now?" He stared at her daring her to keep it up.
Cordy could see he was as frustrated as she and possibly just as panicked. Being smart and a little light headed, she decided it was time to back off. "All right. Okay. Chill. I’ll just hold my diced up body part together until dark. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
She cried out in agony as she put pressure against her breast to stem the blood’s flow that had worsened during her manic attack on Angel.
“Cordy.” He reached for her but an outstretched arm blocked him.
“I’m fine. Really. Just a twinge of...” Her eyelids fluttered.
Angel watched helplessly as her eyes rolled up and she slumped over.
Part 4 –Specialty of the House
By the angle of the light seeping through the slats of the blinds, Angel sensed it was about 2:15. He’d been cradling Cordy against his body for at least 40 minutes. Without her constant talking to keep him occupied, he found it difficult to keep his mind off the hunger that her open wound evoked.
He opened his mouth and breathed in the microscopic pink particles of blood soaking the muggy air around him. He swallowed hard and sighed when just the faintest hint of her spice touched his tongue.
“Mmmm.” Cordy moaned and stirred in his arms.
“Hey,” he said softly with a slight tremor as the guilt of having relished even for a moment in the taste of her blood filled him. “How do you feel?”
“Ummm...like I lost a lot of blood and fainted. You ever get that feeling?” Barely awake, she snuggled deeper into Angel’s chest trying to get comfortable.
“Once,” he said remembering in every detail the experience of losing his blood and welcoming the darkness in that alley centuries ago. The voice of a perturbed Cordelia brought him out of his flashback and quickly into the present.
“Angel. Why am I lying on top of you and what in the hell is your hand doing on my breast?”
“I’m keeping the pressure on it so you won’t die. Call me nutty, but I thought you’d be okay with me trying to save your life.”
“Fine, nutty, but I’m awake now, so I’ll pressure myself, thank you.” She pushed his hand away and gasped when the layers of tissue pulled apart again. Seeping liquid coated her palm as she forced the skin back together.
Angel’s hand instinctively went back to her injury when she hissed, but she warned him off with a quick slap. “Let me go. I can do it,” she said as she sat forward and tried to scoot off his lap.
Angel reluctantly slid out from under her and stood. His eye caught the sight of Cordy’s bottle of water near the door and he retrieved it quickly. Bringing it back to her, he slid his hand under her neck bringing her head forward to drink.
“Here, take some water,” he said.
Cordy’s mouth remained in a tight line for a second refusing to open up to his attempt to help. When he didn’t budge the rim from her mouth, she reluctantly opened and took some of the offered liquid. A few small sips were all she would allow herself.
“Enough,” she said as she again shoved his assistance and his arm away.
Angel moved back, replaced the cap on the small amount of water that was left and waited for her to set the tone. While she was unconscious, he had been in charge. But now that she was awake, he had no doubt he would say and do anything she wanted.
He watched as she struggled one-handed to get repositioned. In an instant Angel placed her where she wanted to be - sitting up with her back against the wall. Her eyelids flickered and head swayed as the quick movement and new position made the blood rush from her brain.
“Cordy, you need to lie down.”
She took a deep breath. “No, I’ll be fine. Really.”
She would not be fine. Not for five more hours. If he didn’t do something, she could bleed out and he wouldn’t be able to live knowing he could’ve saved her but was too scared to do it.
Angel left her side and climbed over the rubble to sit in the only corner in shadow to think. Resting his elbows on his raised knees he watched Cordy as she struggled to keep steady pressure on her chest and flinched over and over again when in her weakened state her hand kept falling and the pain made her whimper.
She was so damned determined not to need him and so damned brave. He wished he could say the same. He definitely needed her. He had prayed to all things holy to free him from that need, but part of his epiphany had been all about her and how much she meant to him. She had to be blind not to notice all the sucking up he’d been doing over the past few weeks to get her back. Did she think he enjoyed groveling?
And he wasn’t that brave. Cordy scared the shit out of him. The biggest, baddest vampire ever to walk the earth, and he was terrified of telling a dying cheerleader that he had another secret. One that would save her life, but another damn secret nevertheless.
I don’t want to die, he thought. He lowered his head into his palms and rubbed the grimy sweat across his forehead. It felt like sandpaper, and he wondered if he rubbed hard enough if he could sand himself down into powder and escape.
Suddenly he realized the irony of the situation. Leave it to Cordelia Chase to make him want to live and die at the same time. His shoulders started to quiver and the giggle that started in his brain suddenly was coming out of his mouth.
“Is my pain amusing to you?” Cordy asked obviously incredulous at his inappropriately timed laughter.
He looked up, his eyes wet from trying to restrain himself, and said between sniggers, “No, mine is.”
Immediately the strain that had permeated the air between them vanished as Cordy gasped and her eyes widened with shock. “Oh, my God, Angel. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think. What’s wrong? Let me see.”
When she tried to get up to come to him, his chest swelled with awe and admiration. His laughter was replaced with shame as he rushed to her side to stop her. When I grow up, I want to be just like her, he thought as he gently forced her back against the wall and stared into her eyes filled with worry only for him.
“Shh, I’m okay. I’m not hurt, Cordy.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Her concern was still strong, and he lost some of his instant courage when faced with the Cordy that held his life in her tiny palm.
He lowered his eyes from hers bracing himself for the cold front moving in. He couldn’t watch the warmth he saw there turn into the inevitable disappointment he knew would replace it when he spoke.
“There’s another way out of this,” he said.
“What other way?” Cordy saw him staring at the floor and the answer dawned. “Oh, sure! You can break through the floor and get us out through the room below.”
“No, that won’t work. This place is too unstable to try it. I could bring the rest of the roof down on top of us.”
“Then what? I’m all ears and blood apparently. Well, at least for another few pints anyway,” she said, the teasing tone not as optimistic as her earlier attempts.
Angel rose and scuffled toward the window, running a hand through his hair. Muscles twitching and pounding his right fist into his palm, he turned to face her and blurted out, “Take your shirt off.”
The words were hideously wrong. He knew it before they were out of his mouth and filling the room like the stink of a dead skunk. But, he wanted to get this over with and her shirt coming off was the ultimate goal. So, he went right for the punch line.
“What? I will not! Are you insane or just stupid?” She swallowed loudly, her rising anxiety apparent.
“Okay, that was the wrong approach. I...I need to lick you.” He cursed at himself under his breath knowing just how wrong that sounded.
“Oh, and that’s so much better, because a vampire licking my blood is all kinds of sane. Wait. You did mean lick my blood, right?” She smashed her body flat against the wall and further from his mouth.
Everything about her screamed at him to back off. He was making it worse instead of better.
“Damn!” He rushed forward, bending down on one knee in front of her. “Okay, here’s the deal. I can clean and seal the wound with my tongue. Actually, my saliva, but tongue sounds better, doesn’t it?” He half smiled hoping a little humor would calm her down.
“Uh-huh, sure. Tongue is so much more couth than saliva I always say. But, ya see, here’s my problem. No!” She pressed harder against her breast and Angel saw the pain it caused when her torso jerked and she hissed and bit her lip.
It was obvious she needed help fast. “Cordy, you’re still bleeding. I can stop it.” She just stared at him like he was speaking Chinese.
“Look, you know vampires heal fast. Well, whatever makes that happen is in our saliva, too, and it can help humans heal faster. So, please just let me do this for you.”
He reached for her and she slapped his hand away.
“Not so frickin’ fast, buddy. Why haven’t I ever heard of this before? Sounds like something Wesley would’ve had cross-stitched on a tea cozy by now.” Her head fell back. The effort it took to keep his hands off her had sapped her already waning strength.
“He may know. I’m not sure. But it’s not something that gets used too often. I mean, a normal vampire doesn’t have much reason to stop a human from bleeding. And it’s not like I go around doing it every day.”
Cordy perked up at that statement. “Why don’t you? Why don’t you lick Wes or Gunn when they get hurt? Huh? Don’t they deserve some of your special magic tonguing or do you just like to watch them suffer?”
The words stung, but he knew that question was coming and had to be answered. She was digging in for a fight. As weak as she was, he could see the steel fortress in her eyes. The only way he would be able to break through it was with complete honesty.
“It’s too much, Cordy. I’m a vampire who loves blood. You know that. I need it like you need air. I’ve learned to control my lust for humans, but it wouldn’t take long to start looking at you all as breakfast, lunch and dinner if I started tasting the real thing every day while healing you.”
He could see the steel begin to soften into smooth copper, but it wasn’t going to be that easy. Cordy was not a fool.
“Okay, I get that,” she said. “But it hasn’t been that long that you went all mock Angelus and served a bunch of lawyers up for a fang buffet. What makes you think that once you start dining on my oh-so-delicious red corpuscles that you’ll be able to stop?” Her body was weak, but her mouth still packed a wallop.
Brown eyes instantly pooled and dull teeth grated trying to chew the distasteful sting of those words into something palatable. His shoulders sagged under the weight of her mistrust. Unable to return her accusing glare, he looked everywhere else and found an answer under the skittering toes of a cockroach.
“Here.” He got up and retrieved a broken nightstand leg from across the room. “If you feel in danger at any time, you plunge this into my back and add a little more dust to the pile. Now, will you let me keep you alive?”
Angel saw her resolve begin to disintegrate when her gaze caught the wood trembling in his hand. She looked at the stake and then his eyes and he thought for a moment he could see the gate to her heart open. He thought he could actually hear the hinges scrape. His chest ached in anticipation of the words he so desperately needed to hear coming from her lips. The words that said she trusted him again.
She grabbed the stake, put it in her lap and painstakingly began inching her tank top off. His whole being sank into the floor as the tiny opening to her good graces was slammed shut in his face once more. He turned his back to give her some privacy and to hide the letdown on his face.
Part 5 – House Call
Angel gasped when Cordy finally permitted him to turn around. She had refused to take the top completely off, deigning only to lift it off her shoulder and shove it out of the way, but it was enough for him to see the massive injury to her chest.
“Oh, my God. Cordy, this is bad. I’m sorry, but the bra has to come off.”
She slowly turned her head toward him and cocked it. “Excuse me?”
“The bra. It’s in the way. I’ll help you.” His hand reached for the clasp in the back and she pushed back hard trapping his hand against the wall.
“If you want to keep that hand in working order, mister, I wouldn’t move it if I were you.” The stake in her free hand was wobbly and scratching his chest.
She bounced back again with all her strength jabbing her shoulder blade into his palm. “Ow, shit! Cordy! What’s your problem?”
“Hmmm. Let me think. A man is trying to remove my bra without my permission. Now what could be wrong with that?”
Her arched brow forced his head down in frustration. Taking a cleansing breath, he raised his cool gaze to her heated one and let the demon charm flow. “Cordelia Chase. May I please help you remove your bra so that I can have access to that gaping hole in your chest and use my saliva to seal it?” He smiled that smile. The one that always tugged her lips up in reflex.
Lowering the stake, her chest shook with laughter. “Ow, ow, ow,” she managed to squeal in between sniggers. “Oh, God this is so messed up. How pathetic is it that I threaten to kill the only man who’s wanted to take my bra off in ages? Don’t answer that.” She leaned forward freeing his hand. “Strip away.”
“You know,” he said as he easily released the closure with one hand, “maybe you would get more offers if you didn’t spend your Sundays chasing vampires through old hotels.”
He slipped a finger under the strap and slipped it gingerly from her shoulder, the fabric clinging to her skin with dried blood.
“And maybe if certain vampires didn’t refuse to answer a simple question, I wouldn’t have to chase them.” Her trembling hand covered his, her eyes pleading with him to let her finish the deed.
Turning his head while she undressed, it gave him the opportunity to think about what he was going to say about the Darla issue. He’d hoped that with her life in the balance, she just might forget about that for now. But knowing her stubborn nature, he should’ve realized it wouldn’t be that easy. He just couldn’t understand why though. Why was what happened with Darla so damn important to her?
Behind him, Cordy tucked the bra under her dangling top. Her torso was half exposed save for the cover her palm afforded. Summoning a deep breath and swallowing it, she croaked, “I...I’m ready.”
Turning around slowly, Angel hoped his expression remained neutral. Despite the grime, the pasty sweat and dried blood, the picture of Cordelia touching herself...her breast...in front of him made his skin tingle and his mouth wet. He forgot for a moment this was supposed to be an episode of “Dr. Kildare” and not something on late night cable. Not that he’d ever seen something like that because he hadn’t. He was too cheap. He decided then and there cable might be worth the investment.
His periphery vision caught her head tilt to catch his gaze. Her eyes questioned his thoughts and implored him to not make this any harder. Embarrassment and pain were so clearly etched in her expression, her hair-raised skin, and her intoxicating scent.
He smiled softly to relax her. “Okay. This is going to hurt, so feel free to scream or hang onto something.”
“I always knew you wanted to make me scream.” Her lips made a devilish upturn and her words sounded a little shaky on top of her nervous laugh.
“Oh, sure. This is a real dream come true for me.” He lowered his mouth toward her breast. “Maybe later we can give each other perms.” He felt the vibration of her laugh just before his tongue touched red velvet.
“Pfft.” She sucked in air and gasped the instant his cold flesh met her seared skin. “You’re really showing your age. Owww!”
The tip of his tongue dug into the wound like an antiseptic swab. Each stroke brought a sound of pure torture from her but was unexpectedly sensual for him. The blood, her body heat, her sweat, the sheer silky texture of her skin…oh, god. He shocked himself with a throaty moan.
“We don’t do perms anymore,” she said as his mouth held her flesh steady. “Maybe highlights or a facial.”
He flattened his tongue and lapped at the gash while his wet lips brushed against her again and again. “Owww! You’ve got some really big pores there, buddy. A nice cucumber mask will shrink those right up. Holy shit!” Cordy jerked suddenly.
Angel pulled back, licking his red stained lips. “What? Did I hurt you?”
The sight of the blood on his lips made her hand grip the stake tighter just as his tongue licking those lips made her legs spread instinctively. “Duh. Can’t you like…ya know…lick a little softer?”
He must have gotten carried away and put too much pressure. Why could he not remember this was healing and not foreplay? Maybe because she felt so good in his mouth.
“You’ve got to switch hands. Your arm’s in my way. I can’t reach it all.” And, ohdeargod, there’s a lot to reach. He mentally slapped himself for his uncontrolled lechery.
“Okay, not a problem. I’ll just...” She reached with her other hand, but it still clutched the stake. “Hmmm...breast...wood...breast...wood...tough choice.”
“Not really. Not tough at all. Damn it, stop. Healing, healing, healing,” he repeated in his mind over and over again.
She clamped the stake between her thighs and Angel mentally growled jealous of the stake.
She placed her free hand over the blood soaked one and slipped it out from beneath the new cover. Angel couldn’t decide if he wanted to be the hand touching her breast or the one covered in blood.
There was no thought left when, in the switch over, her fingers separated and Angel caught a glimpse of a turgid, dark, delectable nipple. The image lasted only a second before she closed the curtain. It was one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen, and his groin throbbed in agreement.
Recovering the stake from her thighs, she settled back and braced herself for the return of his mouth on her.
“You ready?” he asked almost too eagerly. She nodded her assent. Less inhibited than the first time, he quickly but gently dipped into her body and felt his resonate with bridled energy. His mind repeated the healing mantra, but his body reacted without thinking. Musk and salt coated his throat and a feral growl escaped before he could stop it.
“Is that growly thing part of the treatment, because it kind of itches?” She squirmed and caused him to lose his connection.
“Cordy, try not to move. If you shift, you’ll tear apart what I’m trying to keep together.” Your skin and my self control. He tried once again, this time starting near the base of her breast hoping to shore it up like a zipper closing from the bottom. But again, she hissed and yanked from him unable to control her natural reaction to the pain.
He sat back on his haunches and shook his head in frustration. Then his whole body trembled with fear and excitement when he realized what he had to do next.
Continue on...
