Title: Sneaking Around
Author: Illusion
Posted: 05-19-2002
Email: alliekat17@hotmail.com
Rating: PG15, for angst and minor sexual references.
Spoilers: Set about two months after Julia gave Angel and Cordelia the prognosis in ‘The Cycle of Shanshu.’ I guess you don’t really have to read that to understand this, but it helps. And it makes me happy!
Disclaimers: None of them are mine, unfortunately. But if Joss wants to give them away… Oh well. Couldn’t hurt to try, huh? I promise, I’ll give them back once I’m done. Thanks Joss and Co.
Notes: Just a short story that takes place during ‘The Cycle of Shanshu’. For all those that are awaiting a sequel - it’s definitely in the works, and almost finished too, but I kinda needed a break, and I wanted to address this side of things a little more. I’m normally not keen on POV stories, but I just had to do it here. Therefore this is my first, so don’t be surprised if it’s complete and utter crap.
Teaser: Angel’s and Cordelia’s reflections on Angel’s illness, their relationship, and their friends.
Feedback: Any feedback would be much appreciated. I know there are some people who are anxiously awaiting a sequel, and I’ll have it posted as soon as possible. Feel free to bug me about it as much as you want though, so I know people are still interested.

---

I hate this sneaking around.

I’m barely hearing anything Wesley is saying, too busy watching the second hand of the clock on the wall opposite counting down the time until I can be with Cordelia again, to be paying much attention to anything else. She hasn’t been here for almost two hours, but I can still *feel* her here. The hotel is as much her home as her apartment is these days. We spend almost every night together, here at the Hyperion, or at her place. Either way, we’re together. ‘After hours’ is really the only time we *can* be together.

Sometimes I wish things were different though. Who wouldn’t? I want Gunn and Wes to know everything. They deserve to know, but I can’t take the chance. Maybe I’m being selfish, wanting my final months to be normal - the few months that I’ve got as finally human again - but I wouldn’t be able to handle it if they pitied me. If they were always being careful not to upset me, or agitate me. If they were always awkward around me because of my heart condition. I don’t want that. I just want things to finally be as normal as they can be, with a life like the one we lead. I want to remember them all as they are.

But that’s not the worst thing about this. The worst thing is the sneaking around. I want so desperately to be able to tell them about me and Cordelia, but I can’t. We can’t. It’s just… It’s complicated.

We both know now that we’ve been in love for years, even if we didn’t realize it until we found out that I was dying. It hurts to know that even though we know now, we’ll only have a few months together. But I’m glad that we have that much at least. That way, at least I’ll have the memories of what we have together.

That first morning, after we made love for the first time, I have to admit, I was scared. I was scared that I was the only one that felt this way. It’s so much more intense than what I had with Buffy. That wasn’t true love, just first love for us both. We didn’t even really know each other, and we still don’t. There were just some things that we couldn’t have, like acceptance. As the Slayer, she could never accept that I was a vampire. She could never accept my demon.

Not like Cor does. I’ve been able to tell her things about myself that I’ve never been able to tell anyone before. There isn’t much about me that she *doesn’t* know now. Who would have thought, that only Cordelia Chase could give me a reason to start living again? Even before I regained my humanity, I felt alive when I was with her. She was able to make me laugh and smile, just by being her. She’s such an amazing young woman, so vibrant, so full of life, so loving and giving. I can’t imagine what I’d do without her, now that I have her in my life. The only reason I learnt to believe in myself was because of *her* unwavering belief in me.

We’d been best friends for years before that night we spent together, and we’d grown so close in that time. Sometimes, I don’t even know how I worked up the courage just to kiss her, but she didn’t pull away. She kissed me back, and the next thing we know… Well, you get the picture. The next morning though, I realized we’d never actually said anything to each other. Sure, I had told her I *needed* her, more than life itself, but I hadn’t told her that I love her. And she had said even less.

I still wonder what would have happened to us if I hadn’t kissed her then. If I’d been able to keep my feelings buried. But knowing what I know now, and what we have together, I wouldn’t change a thing. I finally told her I love her, even though I tried to break it all off at first. I told myself that I needed to convince her to forget that anything had happened between us, but I couldn’t bear to say the words. It felt like I was tearing my own already-weak heart out of my chest, just considering it. But I had nothing to offer her. I still don’t really. The only thing I can give her is my love, and my promise that I’ll always protect and watch over her, to make sure she’s safe and happy, even after I’m… gone.

I can offer her a future though, in a way. A future without me. That’s why I made her promise. I know now that she loves me. After that night, and the morning after, there’s no doubt in my mind. Just the awing way she looked at me, the loving way she held me, the vehement way she tried to tell me it each time I interrupted her… But I couldn’t let her say it. I couldn’t let her actually *tell* me that she loves me. I want her to be happy. I *need* her to be happy, even if it means that she’s happy with someone else. I need her to be able to move on, and give her love to someone who actually has something to offer her, especially a future.

I’m probably still being selfish, taking these next few months from her life, but I can’t help it. I love her, and I need her to know that, without any doubt, before I go. I love the way that I can make her laugh, and bring out that incredible smile she seems to give me every time we’re together. That smile will be one of the only things that will keep me going after all this is over. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I die, but I know, whatever it is, I’ll be able to survive it, knowing Cordelia’s love, and remembering that smile.

I just wish it didn’t have to be a secret from everyone we know.

The clock has only ticked off a few more minutes now, and Gunn and Wesley are now arguing about… something. I can’t even remember what we were talking about. Something to do with Cordelia’s vision this evening. We took care of it, no problems, but you know Wesley. He has to research everything to death, even when it *is* dead. We killed the demon, but he wants to make sure there aren’t any others, or that it’s not going to come back, or something like that. Now I know why Cordelia wants to set him up with one of her girlfriends. Wes really needs to get out more. He’s gotten better, since Gunn joined the team. It was a surprise to all of us when Gunn and Wesley became the best of buds. They’re complete opposites, but somehow they pull it off. At least Gunn’s acquainted Wesley with the twentieth century finally. Like Cordelia did for me.

I suppress a huge sigh of relief when Wesley re-shelves the books he was going through, and both he and Gunn say their goodbyes for the night. I manage a reply, and force myself to remain seated, unread book still in hand, as Gunn switches out the lights in the foyer. They finally leave the building, but I stay still, listening as Gunn’s truck, and then Wesley’s motorcycle pull away from the curb, the guys heading in opposite directions to their apartments. Only then do I get up and put on my coat.

Cordelia went home earlier when we all insisted that she get some rest. Sometimes, she pretends that the visions are so bad that she’s too weak to go back home, and she stays here at the Hyperion. Other nights, she says there are some invoices or some bills she needs to sort out, so she has to stay late. The guys don’t think twice about that nowadays. If Cor had said something like that a few years ago though, they would have known something was up. Cordelia’s changed so much now, been forced to grow up since her family lost all their money and her parents left her to fend for herself. LA has changed us both, I guess.

We dropped Cordelia off at her apartment on the way back from responding to her vision. She insists on coming along, has for years now. She says she feels better being there, so that she knows we’re all safe. We’re her family, and she would be devastated if one night, we simply didn’t return. And more recently, she insists on being there to make sure I’m okay. Even though I’m human, and dying, The Powers still send Cor the visions. I can’t just ignore them, even though I know that one of these days, the extra exertion might trigger the heart attack that will be the finish of me.

I told the guys that I was just going to take Cordelia up to her apartment and make sure she went to bed to rest and recover from her vision, which wouldn’t surprise them. I’ve done that ever since she first got them from Doyle. I just feel so guilty - they were never meant for her, and yet she endures them and the overwhelming pain that each one brings, all for me. God, she astounds me. She’s the strongest and most caring person I’ve ever met. The most amazing person I’ve ever known in all my years of existence.

Dennis is the only other being that knows about Cordelia and I. We had to tell him. He promised not to tell the guys though, and to be honest, he’s been really helpful, to both of us. I don’t think he likes any men in Cordelia’s apartment after what happened with Wilson, and I can’t say that I blame him, but he’s not even too keen on Wes and Gunn. He only puts up with them because he knows how much they mean to Cordelia. But for some reason, he seems to actually like me. At least, that’s what Cordelia says. He’s brought me my pills a couple of times now though, when I’ve almost had an attack at her place, so that must stand for something.

But Cordelia and I arranged to meet back at her place while I walked with her up to her door. I didn’t actually go in with her, despite what I told Wes and Gunn. Just like Dennis isn’t fond of them, they don’t like Dennis, either. They don’t trust the ghost. I do though. He cares about Cordelia, and I know he makes sure she’s safe and happy when she’s at home, and I’m not able to be there. He protects her, and makes sure she rests after she’s had a vision. Earlier tonight, I kissed Cordelia at her door, and called to Dennis to make sure Cordelia took the next couple of hours to recover, before going back to the car and driving the guys to the hotel.

Now, the drive back to Cordelia’s apartment takes only a few minutes, including one stop along the way. She doesn’t really like me driving by myself, because she’s scared that I’ll have a heart attack behind the wheel, but I can’t stop doing everything I normally do just because of this condition I have. The guys would notice something was up if I stopped too many things. I admit that I’m still risking myself a bit much, but there’s nothing I can do about that. There are just some things that I *have* to do, and Cor understands that.

Dennis lets me in without having to knock when I finally reach Cordelia’s door. He closes it behind me, and after a moment, Cordelia’s bedroom door opens silently down the hall - Dennis telling me Cordelia’s in her room.

She’s sleeping. She looks so serene and innocent when she’s asleep. Between the visions, the business, and worrying about me, it’s only when Cordelia’s sleeping, that she finds the time to take a break. That’s why I like to make sure we take it easy a few nights a week. Just hire a couple of movies and order in pizza, or sit on the sofa together in comfortable silence. It’s not often we can do anything more anyway. Neither of us would ever risk my life like that. We don’t make love unless I’m feeling okay, and I’m honest about that. Sometimes when I’m not feeling one hundred percent though, she’ll let me just pleasure her, and we just won’t go all the way. She doesn’t really like to do that though. Believe me, I *know* she enjoys it, but she thinks it’s unfair. She doesn’t realize that I’m content just knowing that she’s happy, even though I tell her that nearly every day.

But right now, she looks so beautiful, I can’t bear to wake her. I sit down on the edge of her bed, being extremely careful not to wake her, and simply watch her sleeping for several minutes. I lay down beside her, kicking off my socks and shoes, and slip under her covers with her. I can’t help but smile when she does, snuggling up against me instantly, sighing as my arms come around her. Dennis draws the covers right up over us both, before leaving the room, closing the door almost all the way behind him, allowing only a sliver of the light from the hall to spill through, illuminating Cordelia’s side of the bed, making her soft innocent face seem to glow with an ethereal innocence.

I press a light kiss over her lips, still careful not to wake her, before I close my eyes, content to just fall asleep with the woman that I love more than life itself burrowed deep in my arms. I could spend the rest of my days, just like this.

It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with her.


This first thing I notice when I awaken, is the warmth and love surrounding me. I’m being held by strong familiar arms, in an intimate embrace that always reminds me that I’m safe. That I’m protected. That I’m loved.

Right here, right now, I’m home. Not because I’m at my apartment, but because I’m in his arms.

I open my eyes, a broad smile immediately spreading over my lips as I stare into Angel’s sleeping face. He’s so beautiful when he’s asleep. This is one of the only times that he’s ever completely at peace. I blush when I think about the other times - any time he’s with me. I’m not being egotistical when I say that, but I can’t deny that when Angel and I are together, Angel’s content. He’s so happy when we’re together, and I’m glad that I can bring that out of him. He’s been so alone for a century, and he’s such a selfless and loving man, he deserves some peace.

That’s why we both accept that he’s dying. Because it will mean, after all these centuries of pain and suffering, he’ll finally be at peace.

How can I be upset about that?

I snuggle deeper into Angel’s embrace, feeling him begin to stir, but not quite awaken. Not just yet, and I’m glad. I just want to watch him at the moment. It’s not often I get the chance to do that. Usually, he’s awake before me. He’s either making us breakfast, or showering so he can get back to the hotel before the guys notice he’s not there, or sometimes *he’s* watching *me*. He’s even sketched a few pictures of me while I’m sleeping, and they’re beautiful. He’s an amazing artist. Actually, amazing doesn’t even begin to cover it. Just the way he’s able to make me look so beautiful and peaceful… I’m never going to part with those drawings.

That’s one of the nice ways to wake up. Even waking up to the smell of his scrambled eggs and French toast is amazing - he’s such a good cook, too. But it’s when he’s awake first so that he can get back to his place, or I have to get up early to get away, only to come back again later, that really gets to me. I hate having to sneak around, every time we want to spend some personal time together.

But we have to do it. If Gunn and Wes knew that we were together… everything would change. I mean, Angel can tell me he loves me, but I can’t tell him. After all, I promised him, and I’ll never break that promise to him. Gunn and Wesley wouldn’t understand, but I won’t utter those words for as long as he lives, no matter how desperately I long to. He assures me time and time again that he knows, and I know he does, but sometimes I just want to tell him. Just once, so that he can hear me say it at least one time before he… before he’s gone.

Okay, maybe this *is* his reward, and maybe he *does* want it, in the end, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wish for things to be different. He’s just accepted this because things *aren’t* different. They are how they are, and nothing can change that. I know he dreams of spending an entire lifetime with me - he’s *told* me, I’m not being egotistical again! - and I want nothing more than to share my life with him as well, but that’s not what fate has planned for us.

We still have a few months together, though. It may not be a lifetime, but I’ll make sure Angel feels a lifetime of love and happiness in the time we *do* have together.

After all that he’s given me, it’s the least I can do in return.

Sometimes, I can’t believe how much has changed, since I came to LA. It’s still a wonder that I met up with Angel again at that party. Of all the millions of people in LA, I run into him? It’s almost impossible. I sometimes think that Doyle’s first vision for Angel wasn’t to lead him to Tina, but to lead him to me. Corny, huh? And I’m probably deluding myself into thinking that The Powers That Be really considered me that important to Angel’s redemption, but it’s too much to be a coincidence, don’t you think?

Well, whether it was a coincidence, or the plan of some higher power, we *did* meet up with each other at that party, and he *did* save me from that icky Winters vampire. But he saved my life in more ways than one, that night. It was because of that night, that I realized that I needed someone. That I couldn’t make it on my own in LA, as an actress, or anything else I might become. I needed a friend. A home away from home. A purpose.

Love.

In that one brief moment, when Angel leapt off the balcony with me in his arms, all the while shielding me from flying bullets by taking them himself, he proved that he would always be there for me. I’d never really been nice to him in Sunnydale. In fact, I was the first to jump back on Xander’s dislike-bandwagon when Angel came back from Hell, before I truly understood the difference between him and the demon. And yet he didn’t hesitate to save me that night. He even took me back to his place, and offered to let me stay the night if I needed someone, even though he was in pain and needed to rest to recover. And the next morning, he walked straight into Russell Winters’ office and threw him out the window, to stop him from coming after me again.

I think… No, I *know* offering to be Angel’s secretary was just an excuse for me to stay by him. I genuinely wanted to help him achieve his redemption, even though I was one of the only ones that believed that he had nothing to redeem himself for. That he wasn’t responsible for the demon’s actions. Hell, that he and Angelus aren’t the same. No-one else, not even Angel himself, could seem to understand that. They do now, but back then, I was the only one who believed in him. He needed someone to believe in him.

And I wanted it to be me. I wanted to be there for him, every step of the way. Whenever he should need a friend. I wanted to be the person he could talk to about anything, the person he could ask for help if he needed it, the person who could prevent him from losing hope when he was at his worst.

He gave me a reason, a purpose. He gave me a job, a home, and a friend. He gave me my life, and in return, I wanted to give him back his.

And gradually, as we spent more and more time together, and saved the helpless, we grew closer. If anyone had told me in high school that Angel and I would become best friends, I would have laughed in their face. Then I would probably have spread vicious rumors about them around school and insulted them at every chance I got. That’s just the way I was. I’m *so* glad I’m not that superficial and nasty anymore.

But none of that meant anything to Angel. He was there for me any time I needed him, and he supported me in everything I did. Okay, so maybe he didn’t really support me with my goal to become a famous actress, but that’s only because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings by telling me I sucked. But he was always there for me, and always let me know how much he appreciated me, and how much he cared about me. After Doyle died, and I started having the visions, Wesley’s and then even Gunn’s first reaction to them was to go fight whatever evil slimy beastie I saw in them, then when the danger was gone, to make sure I was okay. I knew they cared about me, and it wasn’t like I was just an afterthought. But Angel’s first reaction was always to comfort me. Only then, would he ask me what the vision was about, and he only went at my insistence, and after he had made sure I was comfortable and resting.

We were in love even then, but we just didn’t realize it. I think we’ve been in love practically since we met up in LA, and became a significant part of each other’s lives. We continued to spend more and more time together, even making up excuses just so we didn’t have to leave each other. One night, we sorted through all the filing together and came up with a mutual filing system, just so I didn’t have to go home - away from him. He even invited me to stay at his place a few times when it was extra late. He was always the gentleman of course, sleeping on the sofa, while I slept in his bed. I’ll still never admit that it *was* me that got the peanut butter on the bed though. Hey, I was hungry, and there wasn’t much in Angel’s refrigerator to make a midnight snack out of! Only the things he used to cook breakfast for me every morning after we pulled an all-nighter, including my peanut butter and the bread for toast.

I guess we only really realized we were in love that night after Julia confirmed for us that Angel was dying. It felt like the entire world had simply stopped, frozen, when Angel kissed me. I remember staying so still, not even breathing, in case one movement would startle Angel and stop him from kissing me. Up until that moment, I didn’t dare admit to myself that the intense love I felt for Angel was anything more than that of friendship.

And making love to Angel was and still is the most incredible, loving and sensual experience of my entire young life. For the last couple of months, since that night, and the morning after when Angel first told me that he loves me, and made me promise never to return those words, I’ve felt complete. Whole. Loved. The only way my life could be more perfect, was if Angel wasn’t dying, and if I could actually tell him how I feel, instead of simply asking him if he knows. I know he does, but it’s the closest I can get to actually saying the words.

Angel stirs again in front of me, this time his eyes fluttering open, and he instantly smiles at me. “Hey,” he murmurs sleepily. “How are you feeling?”

I can’t help but grin at him. He’s so cute when he’s just woken up. Not quite awake, but not asleep, either. He’s still so free and innocent, in those few moments just after waking. Before reality seeps back into his consciousness. I wish we could just stay like this forever, with no pain, and no worries. Just peace.

“I’m okay,” I tell him honestly. “Still a little headache-y. How about you?”

“I’ve been okay today,” he assures me, and I can tell he’s being equally honest. He would never lie to me, especially not about his heart. “I’m just a little tired. I thought we could just have a quiet night in, if you wanted to. I picked up a couple of movies, and we can probably order in pizza,” he suggests, before his hopeful smile disappears a little. “Like we do just about every other night too,” he adds, almost inaudibly, and I can hear the slight bitterness in his voice.

I immediately sit up beside him so that I can see him properly. “Don’t ever think like that,” I tell him firmly, now completely serious. I hate when he gets like this. Like he isn’t good enough for me. Like he’s holding me back, or something. I still can’t believe that such a loving, giving man, can be so insecure. “Angel, I love being with you. I don’t care what we do. Any time that I spend with you is perfect, simply because I’m spending it with you. You’ve already given me so much. Angel, I don’t need or want anything more than you,” I whisper, finally smiling at him again when he smiles.

He draws me down to kiss him, and I happily and eagerly oblige, melting into his arms. *This* is perfect. I would be content for the rest of my life, just to spend every moment in Angel’s arms.

But I know that’s not possible. One day soon, no matter what we do, Angel will die. There’s nothing we can do to change that. And for the remaining time that he is alive, we have to be content just to see each other at work, and any time we can steal outside of it.

I just want him to be happy and comfortable, for as long as he has left.


Cor’s in the shower at the moment, freshening up after her nap. She asked me to join her, giving me a coy wink but at the same time a concerned questioning look, but I had to decline. I know what she was suggesting, but like always, I’m honest about how I’m feeling. At the moment, I don’t want to push it. I’ve felt a little weak today, and fighting that demon earlier tonight didn’t help things.

While she’s in the shower though, I’ve decided to fix us some dinner. I like cooking for her, because for a few moments, I can pretend that everything is fine. Everything is normal. I almost have to laugh at that though - with the life we lead, and the things we’ve seen, how can our lives ever be normal? I think all of us have wished for ‘normal’ at one point in our lives, but we’ll never get it. In some ways, I’m glad though. These are our lives. This is the life that Cordelia and I share. And the sole fact that I share it with her, makes everything worth it.

But cooking dinner is simple. It’s a chore for a lot of people. It’s an everyday thing that we all have to do. After all, we have to eat. And for a little while at least, we can pretend that we’re just like everyone else, a normal couple in love, sitting down to dinner, sharing a romantic meal, and not hiding everything from our friends because there’s nothing to hide.

Yeah, I like cooking for Cordy.

It’s just pasta tonight, because she didn’t actually have anything else in the cupboard. She hasn’t really been big on substantial meals for years, and I’ve always known that. That’s why I always cooked breakfast for her after all-nighters researching demons. And even before we were together, we’d spend time with each other, and I’d often cook for her, whether we were at my place or hers. Without me though, she’s a microwave food girl. Toast for breakfast. Sandwiches. Cans of soup. Frozen dinners. That sort of thing.

So you can see why she loves it when I cook for her. And I love to do it, because I know *she* loves it, and I just want to see her happy. And if that means cooking for her so that I know she’s getting a decent meal fairly regularly, well, I can do that. Besides, it’s something special that I can actually do for her, since we can’t always go out somewhere.

The pasta’s nearly ready, and the sauce is simmering at the moment. I pull out a couple of plates from her cupboard and set them on the countertop, before giving the food a quick check. I noticed when I was looking through her refrigerator for anything to cook that she’s already chilling some red wine.

Casting a quick look around to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything, I remove the cotton wool from the small medications bottle I always carry around. I shake out a pill, replace the wool and the cap, before returning the bottle to my coat pocket. The cotton ball helps stop the pills from rattling around, so the guys don’t hear it. Pill bottles have a pretty distinct sound when they move, don’t they? And I always put them back in my pocket immediately, so that I don’t ever forget them. Cordelia’s always got another bottle, just in case, but she can’t always be around me. And I’d hate it if she couldn’t have some time to herself. If she was always worrying about me. I don’t want to be a burden on her.

I wash the pill down with a swig of spring water from one of the bottles in the refrigerator, before returning to getting dinner ready. A lot of the time, we eat at her dining table, but tonight we’re taking it easy. I’ve already lit some candles and put a couple of wine glasses in Cordy’s living room, so we can just have a quiet dinner in front of the television, watching movies together until we fall asleep. Dennis has switched off the lights too. Guess that just shows how much he approves of us being together - there’s no way he’d help set the mood if he disliked me in any way.

I can’t help but smile as I hear damp feet padding down the hallway, and then Cordelia’s face peeks around the doorframe, having just stepped out of the bathroom and been hit with the smell of the pasta sauce. She looks incredibly beautiful right now, her face devoid of any makeup, and her hair wet and draping down over her neck and shoulders. She’s clutching a towel around herself, and her face is lit up with love and innocence. She thinks that because I don’t have my vampiric hearing anymore, she can sneak up on me even when she hasn’t tried to be all that quiet. “Shouldn’t you be getting dressed?” I tease her, and she wrinkles up her nose at me playfully.

“Something yummy-smelling distracted me,” she replies with a grin, her gaze drifting over the pots on her stove. “Pasta?” she asks hopefully, her smile widening.

“Like you would have anything else to eat in your cupboards,” I remind her teasingly, and she pouts adorably, pretending to be hurt. “You know,” I continue, “I think you do this deliberately, just so I have to cook what you want if I decide not to order in.”

Cordelia grins mischievously, and doesn’t answer, leaving me to come up with my own answer as she disappears down the hall again to finish dressing. I can’t help but smile though when I hear that her light footfalls have quickened - she’s hurrying. By the time she returns, now clothed in comfy jeans and a tank-top, her feet still bare, as mine are, and her hair brushed and pulled up into a ponytail, I’ve drained the pasta and put it on our plates, pouring the sauce over it. I know she’s hungry when she eagerly accepts the plate I offer her and scoops a forkful into her mouth instantly, sighing in pleasure at the taste. I also know for a fact that she hasn’t eaten since lunchtime. “Mmmm… Yummy!” she exclaims, hungrily eating another forkful.

I just laugh at her, leaning forward to kiss away a bit of pasta sauce that sits on her lip and she giggles. Picking up my own plate and retrieving the wine, we both move into the living room. She practically bounces into the overstuffed cushions of the sofa, still giggling even as she chews. She’s gorgeous like this - so innocent, so free. I love being able to see her like this. This is a side of her that I know Wes and Gunn have never had the privilege of seeing. Maybe if we didn’t have to sneak around, they might have gotten the chance, but I’ll never know. Cor’s just so alive, so vibrant… I can’t stop grinning at her whenever she lets loose like this, and that only makes her more bubbly.

Setting my plate on the coffee table, I pour us both a glass of wine and hand hers to her, before picking up my own and joining her on the sofa. She immediately settles against my side, sighing softly in happiness. There’s a million and one things that we could say as we clink our glasses gently together, but we both say nothing. Our eyes say everything we need to say as we hold each other’s gaze, and sip our wine. She giggles again at the taste, and I find my cheeks beginning to hurt because of my smiling, but I don’t care. I lean down and capture her lips with mine again, this time kissing the sweet tasting wine off her even sweeter lips, and I feel her sigh softly, returning the gentle kiss. Seeing her this relaxed and joyful and content, I just love her more and more.

We eat in silence after that, sharing forkfuls of pasta and stealing quick loving kisses, all the while smiling, our easy playful laughter filling the room with a peaceful and carefree atmosphere. This is peace, I think to myself. How can my reward after I pass on be any better than this?

When we finish our meals, I take our plates to the kitchen, while Dennis makes us some popcorn. We don’t even ask him to do anything for us - he’s not a servant - but he generously does these things anyway. I thank him as I return to the living room, stopping in the doorway when my eyes fall on Cordelia again. She’s curled up on herself now, her legs drawn up to her chest. She’s still holding her wine glass, but she’s just staring into it, watching the rich red liquid lap lightly against the sides as she swirls it.

Before I can say anything, she speaks. “Tell me you know,” she whispers, finally raising her gaze to meet mine, and I can see that her eyes are misted over with tears.

I immediately go to her, taking her glass from her and placing it on the coffee table, then sit on the sofa beside her, taking her in my arms. She looks up into my face, her hands grasping at my shirt, her eyes wide and pleading, *begging* me to answer her. “I know, Cordy. I always will. How could I not know?” I ask her honestly.

She lets a sob of relief escape her lips, and her voice is hitched with them when she next speaks. “I just…! Tonight… it’s b-been perfect, Angel!” she cries brokenly. The cheerful bubbly and playful young woman from moments before is now gone. “How could I *ever* want anything more?!” she asks me, referring to my earlier insecurities that I couldn’t give her enough because of my condition. Tears form in my own eyes to hear her say that though - that even in her distress, she tries to reassure *me*. “And I… I just wanted to say it, Angel! I don’t want you to ever doubt it!”

I hold her tightly to me, trying to hush her as her tears fall. Cordelia slowly calms down as I rub my hands over her back in a comforting gesture, until finally her sobs have eased, replaced with small sniffles. Dennis brings her a box of tissues, and she giggles forcibly at herself, taking one to wipe away the tears still falling from her eyes. She gently blows her nose, before turning away from me to throw her tissue in the wastepaper basket.

She doesn’t return her gaze to mine though, and I can see that her face is flushed red in embarrassment. I gently cup her cheek, drawing her back to look at me, and she smiles weakly. “I don’t need to hear the words, to know they’re true,” I assure her tenderly, “and I’ll never doubt them or you.” She finally smiles genuinely, if only a small smile, but it’s something. “I love you Cordelia, and I…” I sigh, before making sure my eyes hold hers for what I’m about to say. “I know, Cordy. I know you love me.” She gasps at my admission, her eyes wide with surprise, but also love, and her smile broadens as she overcomes her shock. That’s the first time *I’ve* ever said the words, and the closest I’ll ever come to hearing them. I’ll never hear them from *her* though, because I made her promise, and I know she’ll never break that promise. And I’m glad. The only thing I truly care about is her, and her happiness. I know that when I die, I’ll be happy, because she will have the chance to be happy, even if it’s without me.

She can’t speak now, but her smile is infectious, and I find myself smiling again as well. She’s not quite as bubbly and playful as before, but she’s not far off it. She winds her arms around my neck, leaning up to kiss me, and I return it eagerly, my hands resting on her back and drawing her closer. We kiss until we’re both breathless, and even then we are reluctant to part. I lovingly kiss away the remaining tears on her cheeks and she giggles once more, snuggling further into my embrace, curling her legs up beside me.

We don’t really say anything after that. Dennis has brought out the popcorn, and he refills our wine glasses and puts a movie on. I thank him again as the light cool breeze he creates by his movement brushes past us and the candles flicker out, leaving us in the darkness of the living room, illuminated only by the warm glow of the television as the movie plays.

Ever since Cordelia and I became closer after Doyle’s death, we’ve done this sort of thing. It’s not just something we started because we couldn’t go out anywhere else - we have to be careful so that I don’t strain myself, and also so that we’re not seen by Wesley and Gunn. When Cor was trying to get me to open up to her, trying to convince me that I didn’t have to go through my existence alone, that I wouldn’t lose her, and that she cared about me, she invited me over to spend our quiet nights like this. It wasn’t often that we got time off, but when we did, we spent it together.

I was reluctant to admit how much I looked forward to those times I spent with Cordelia. It didn’t matter what we were doing, so long as we were together. For years after that, we spent time together. We couldn’t go out in the day, since I was still a vampire then, but at night, we’d go to the movies, spend time together at the beach, go for walks… I even went clubbing with her! Thankfully, when she asked me to dance with her, we found out that I *can* actually dance. Or we would just stay in like this, watching rented movies and eating popcorn, usually with sodas, but sometimes with wine. When she was feeling especially cheerful, it was with wine.

Right now though, we just sit together, not really watching the movie. Just like over dinner, we share kernels of popcorn, have a mini popcorn fight too, laugh and tease. She even convinces me to try that arm-looping thing married couples do on their wedding day with their champagne. The last time I tried that was with Rebecca Lowell, and we all know how that turned out. I don’t think Cordy’s going to spike my drink though, and it’s not like I’m a vampire anymore anyway. We manage to do it without spilling our drinks though, and can’t help but laugh at each other afterwards, sharing another intensely passionate kiss.

As the night passes by, the room grows cooler, and Dennis covers us with Cordelia’s comforter from her bed. Neither of us really cared what movies we watched, in fact, I don’t think either of us watched much of them.

We were together though - that’s all we care about. Cordelia’s fallen asleep beside me, tucked up tightly against my side, her head pillowed on my shoulder and a contented smile on her lips. I carefully shift to be laying on the sofa, Cor now snuggled against my chest, and she sighs my name in her sleep, nuzzling further into my embrace as Dennis draws her coverlet up around us properly.

He finally switches off the television and disappears into his wall for the night, but my gaze stays on Cordelia. She’s bathed in moonlight, and looks positively angelic. She looks so peaceful, so utterly happy, and I’m glad that I can bring this out of her. That I can give her this much happiness in the short time we have together. I only hope that she can be this happy, even after I’m gone.

And after I’m gone, these moments are what will make me happy. These treasured memories will keep me going, no matter what happens. I could go to Hell, and I’d still be happy, because I’ll be remembering my time with her.

But whatever happens to me, I won’t ever be at peace.

How can any peace they offer me, be any better than this?


Okay, so we’re playing with fire here, but who cares? Besides, I find it pretty unlikely that Wes or Gunn even realize that six o’clock in the morning exists on a Sunday. They won’t even be out of bed until ten. So they’re not going to see us.

I awoke contentedly in Angel’s arms this morning, snug and warm against his chest with my comforter drawn up around us. Angel was already awake, and smiling down at me, simply watching me sleep. The room had still been dark and cool in the predawn hours, but we didn’t care. It’s something we try to do at least once a week - wake up early to watch the sunrise together. Maybe it’s a little corny, but it means a lot to us, especially Angel, who until recently hadn’t seen the sun for centuries. And neither of us know what will happen to him after he… well, you know. This might be the last chance he gets to see a real sunrise, from here on this plane of existence. Or see one with me.

Angel made us breakfast while I showered, and we ate together at the kitchen table. It’s amazing, how all our worries and fears can slip away, how the whole world can disappear, when we’re together. Just doing the insignificant mundane things that everyone usually takes for granted brings us both happiness. The fact that we *can* do those things, together, is still overwhelming.

After Angel had showered as well, we drove through the quiet sleeping streets of LA to this beach. We come here a lot to watch the sunrise. It’s close by where Angel was when he saw the sunlight again for the first time in almost two-hundred-and-fifty years, when he had the Gem of Amara. But it’s a more isolated part of the beach, and has a clear view of the sunrise.

It’s perfect.

The waves crash heavily on the beach, and a chill wind whips around us, urging me to burrow further into Angel’s embrace. The warmth of his arms surrounds me, driving away the harsh sting of the cold air on my exposed skin, and I feel like I’m thawing out as he leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek. He’s already taken off his coat and wrapped it around me to keep me warm - it’s a wonder how little he feels the cold himself, but I guess growing up in Ireland, and spending a couple of centuries in Europe can do that to a person. Even so, his touch warms me like nothing else can.

The golden glow on the horizon signals the approach of the new day, the sun gradually creeping upwards to begin its daily journey across the sky in an eternal cycle. It will soon warm the sand and lessen the chill of the sea breeze, but for now, I remain safe and protected in Angel’s arms, my back leaning up against his chest and my head tucked in the perfect hollow between his shoulder and his chin that seems to have been created just for me.

He’s silent, nuzzling the top of my head with his cheek, and I smile at the soft sigh of contentment that passes his lips. We haven’t even seen the sunrise yet, and already he’s content. I know that it’s not about the sunrise though, even if he *does* have a fascination with them. It’s about being alive, and being with me. He doesn’t watch every single sunrise, but he does try to see a few more than your average human being would. He’s not one to take anything in life for granted.

Especially living.

This was my idea today, so I can’t really complain about the cold, even though I can’t feel it anymore. Like I said, Angel’s touch is a little distracting from any discomfort I might otherwise be feeling.

It won’t be long now. Before the sun rises. Before we have to leave. Before Angel has to drop me off at my place, then go back to the hotel, as if he had been there all along. Before we have to pretend we’re just good friends and colleagues again. The only consolation is the hope that there will be nothing to do, no visions and no clients. At least that way, we can *all* go out somewhere, and spend time together. It’s not the same as spending time alone with Angel, but I still love to hang with Wes and Gunn. So does Angel.

We’re a family, and that’s something Angel hasn’t had for centuries, and something he’s going to lose again within months. That’s why he’s determined not to take a single moment for granted. He’s going to live what little life he has left to the fullest, and make sure his family knows how much they mean to him. Maybe The Powers can take away his life, his family, but they can’t take his memories. Those, he will never let go of. I know it’s those memories that are going to get him through this.

Angel and I just sit in comfortable silence as the sun finally rises above the horizon, its light playing off the water and shimmering intensely with a natural beauty that always awes me. We’re still silent, even as it begins to climb into the sky. Eventually, we know we have to leave, and Angel stands and helps me to my feet. We carry our shoes in our hands, since we removed them when we first walked onto the sand several minutes just before the dawn, but now we head back to Angel’s car, hand-in-hand, and even now we don’t utter a sound.

We don’t need words right now. We just need to touch, to hold each other for the few remaining minutes that we have, before we have to leave one another once more. It’s only for a few more minutes, but it feels like a lifetime, not being together. Even longer, being able to see each other at the hotel, and not touch or hold or kiss each other how we long to. As more than just friends.

Angel drives us back to my apartment, one hand on the wheel, while the other remains clasped in mine between us, our fingers intertwined. Not a word is exchanged until he walks me up to my door. Usually, Dennis immediately opens the door if it’s either me or Angel standing here, but this morning he doesn’t. He knows we want a few more moments together, before everything has to end, and we have to go back to sneaking around.

I lean back against my door, lowering my gaze to the floor for a moment, and Angel doesn’t hurry me, even though we both know that if he doesn’t get back to the Hyperion soon, Wes and Gunn will get there before him and wonder where he was. There are only so many excuses he can come up with, and we’ve already cut it a little too close on several occasions, just because we wanted a few more seconds of blissful ignorance to reality together.

Finally, I look up again resolutely. Like every evening or day we spend together, our time has to come to an end. Eventually, our time will come to an even more devastatingly permanent end, when Angel… I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to think about being with him, and making sure he’s happy and content for the rest of his life. It doesn’t matter how long or short his life may be. It’s what I’ve always wanted - to spend my life with him, and make him happy for as long as possible. It may have taken me awhile to actually realize that that’s what I want, but now that I have, I won’t let him suffer any more than he already has.

Rather than say anything to him, I reach my hand up behind his head, drawing his lips down to mine, and kiss him desperately. He immediately responds, gently pressing me up against my door, and I’m glad Dennis doesn’t decide to open it to let us in. Right now, we would *fall* in!

Again, we kiss until we’re both breathless, but as we break away Angel smiles down at me. Really smiles. I don’t think the guys have ever seen that smile from him - one full of happiness and contentment and peace. I’ve seen it more and more since I first met up with Angel in LA all those years ago, and it’s incredible how that one smile can make everything seem okay. Just his smile assures me that no matter what happens, we’ll be okay.

“I love you,” he whispers, and I have to bite my lip to keep from returning his soft words. Angel smiles reassuringly, leaning down and kissing me lightly once more, before finally moving away. Even as he does though, his hand moves down my arm, until only our outstretched hands are touching, trying to stay in contact as long as possible. As he continues to step back, our fingers grasp for each other, before finally slipping out of each other’s reach. He doesn’t turn around, but remains facing me as he reluctantly moves down the hall.

Finally though, he disappears around the corner, but I still don’t move. I wrap my arms around myself, but it’s no substitute for being held in Angel’s arms. “See you soon,” I murmur to the empty hallway.

Sighing heavily, I turn and move to open the door, managing a small smile when it drifts open before my hand can even reach the handle. “Thanks Dennis,” I tell him quietly. As the door closes behind me, I feel a gentle breeze pass my cheek - Dennis brushing against me in a comforting gesture - and I can’t help but giggle. It’s sweet, and it does help a little.

But not much.

Dennis has already washed our dinner and breakfast dishes, as well as cleaned up the living-room, so there isn’t really anything for me to do to keep myself occupied until I leave to go to the hotel. So instead, I go through my cupboards and refrigerator, pretending to be doing something important. Although, when I actually see their contents, I realize it probably is important, if I want to eat at all this week. It’s not that I don’t get paid enough, I do. Angel’s always made sure that I have enough money, and even sponsors a few of my shopping trips, even back when he was a vampire, and we weren’t a couple. He’ll do anything to make me happy, and *I’ll* do anything to make sure *he’s* comfortable and happy for the few months he’s got left.

But on the way home tonight, I’m gonna have to stop and do some actual grocery shopping! I make a list of everything I need - Dennis helps, grabbing an extra pen and adding things I’d would have forgotten if it weren’t for him - before taking what has to be my hundredth glance at the clock. Even keeping myself busy, I can’t help but keep looking at it, counting down every minute until I can see Angel again.

Finally, I’ve just had enough of waiting. I just want to see him again so badly. I slip the shopping list into my bag and grab my things, calling a goodbye to Dennis as he closes the door behind me. I walk briskly to the Hyperion, too eager to slow down, and I feel an overwhelming sense of relief as I walk up the path to the front door, pushing it open with enough force to almost slam it back on its hinges. I cringe a little, but thankfully no-one was in the immediate foyer, the guys too far away to notice.

“Mornin’ Cordy!” Gunn hollers, coming out from the office and heading over to the weapons cabinet. Wesley stands behind the counter, going through one of those old, crumbly books he loves so much, but he looks up and smiles, giving me an equally cheery ‘good morning’.

They’re completely oblivious that anything is going on between Angel and I.

Sometimes, it’s scary how easily we can hide our relationship, but when I really think about it, it makes sense. Wesley and Gunn *know* that Angel and I are best friends. They know we tend to spend a bit of time together, going for daytime walks, and Angel driving me home almost every evening. They *know* we care *a lot* for each other.

They just don’t know that we’re in love with each other.

I reply just as cheerfully to Gunn’s and Wes’ greetings, moving behind the counter and placing my bag on my desk there. “Any work today?” I ask casually, as I normally would.

“Nope, and there ain’t no way I’m complainin’!” Gunn says with a grin, swinging the sword he’s taken out to practice with. “So long as you don’t have a vision, and no-one comes a-knockin’, it’s gonna be a quiet day!” he adds happily, and I can’t help but grin with him. Quiet days are the best. No fighting, no worrying, just spending time with the people I love.

Speaking of the people I love…

Angel comes out of his office, passing Wesley yet another old dusty book that he must have asked for. “Hey Cor,” he says to me with a smile, completely casual - happy to see me, but not overeager. He’s a pretty good actor, I have to admit.

“Morning!” I reply simply, giving him a sweet cheerful smile. Again, nothing the guys wouldn’t expect from me. “Hey, since it’s so quiet, why don’t we get out of this stuffy place then? A day out on the town?” I suggest, now looking at Gunn and Wesley as well. Still, I can feel Angel’s smile behind me. We’ll take every opportunity we can get just to spend time with each other, as well as with the guys.

Not surprisingly, Wes and Gunn agree. Wesley wants to check out an arcane bookstore a few blocks away to get - my God! - more books, and Gunn will take any excuse not to sit around doing nothing. They both go into their own offices to grab their bags and wallets, and Angel takes advantage of the bare few seconds of privacy we have and slips up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I turn my head to meet his lips in an extremely brief kiss, before already Angel is moving away from me. This time though, we really *are* playing with fire. We shouldn’t be risking even these briefest of moments with each other, but we can’t help it. Even those seconds together are comforting to us both.

Shortly after Angel moves away from me, Wesley and Gunn both return, and I grab my bag as well. As we all walk out of the Hyperion, I cast a longing look at Angel, but it will be a while before I can touch him again.

I hate this sneaking around.

End.