Title: Saving You
Author: Jenay
Posted: 08-31-2004
Email: houseofpiesweb@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Category: Drama
Content: C/A
Summary: Cordelia feels like her life is falling apart, and for good reason: because it is. And Angel doesn't understand why she doesn't want to be saved. Surprises along the way.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Just Fic, fanfiction.net
Notes: Just a whirlwind writing spasm I had. Kind of re-worked Cordelia becoming pregnant. Wesley is still with the gang, but there is no baby or adult/teenager Connor. The e-mails are made up, please do not attempt to write to them.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Thanks/Dedication:Part 9
She lay in Angel’s bed, not feeling that safe in her own with the quilt tugged as close as it could get to her neck. She tried not to think, of anything really, but every time she closed her eyes she could see him. The little baby that she lost. Squirming and crying out for her. She couldn’t think of it any longer, didn’t want to think of it any longer. She didn’t know what to do with herself.
It had been a couple of days since her last vision and the surgery had been over two weeks ago with the doctor giving her the go ahead for her normal routine, whatever that was. She couldn’t remember what her routine was before she found out she was pregnant.
She remembered training with Angel, she remembered listening to Fred ramble on about her newest scientific theory, she remembered Wesley and Gunn arguing about the War of 1812 and she remembered Lorne humming as he helped around the office. She loved his little tunes. Sometimes they were simple like Mary had a little lamb, and other times, it was the whole score to Oklahoma, which she could do without for the rest of her natural life.
She stared into the dark room as she heard the footsteps coming up the stairs. She hoped that it was just Fred or Lorne, passing by the door and not intending on coming in. She only wanted Angel if that was the case. But as she predicted in her silent thoughts, the door opened exposing the wall to some light coming from the hallway.
Angel made his way around the bed and took her hand that was lying closest to him.
“Hi.” He mouthed over to her as he kissed the top of her hand, brushing it gently with his fingers. She smiled faintly back and looked away again. She knew he was making his best attempt, but she didn’t feel like talking or doing much of anything for that matter. She was depressed and everyone knew it.
She had been offered the therapy sessions, the support groups, the pills, but she didn’t want them. She knew that if she was going to get through this, she was going to do it herself. This time, she was going to save herself.
Another body slid in the bed and Cordelia twirled her head to see who it actually was. Gretchen Chase lay next to her with a saddened face and empathy like no other, save Angel.
Placing her arm around Cordelia’s waist, Gretchen tugged her granddaughter closer to her, trying to comfort her. Cordelia let it go then, the tears came, flowing down her cheeks and onto Angel’s black satin sheets.
“I’m sorry….I’m so sorry baby.” Gretchen quivered her lip as her arms hugged onto Cordelia, the weight on her shoulders finally caving in. Gretchen looked over to Angel, who let Cordelia’s hand go and exited the room, silently thanking her for coming so quickly.
“I…” Cordelia started to talk, but Gretchen hushed her and started to rock Cordelia back and forth like a mother to a child.
“Sssh, no talking. Just let it out, honey, let it out.”
And Cordelia cried.
***
Dear Journal, or writing pad, whatever you want to call yourself. They have me doing this as part of my ‘therapy’, if that’s what you want to call that as well. They said it would help me through my ‘problems’. Still, I don’t see the point. I mean if I wanted to sort through these mountains of emotions that have been building up inside of me for about eight or so months that was right before Groo left, I would spill them mainly in the direction of Angel.
Cordelia threw the pen back down on the desk in defeat and leaned back in the swiveling chair. She was tired of writing her feelings down. It was pointless, she thought. The feelings didn’t go away, they stayed bottled up inside and absorbed a little bit more of her heart. She looked back down at her half of a journal entry. Angel. It was funny how everything that she wrote got turned back to him. He hadn’t forced her to go to this therapy, only mentioned it about a quarter of a gazillion times, and then he had to go and get Gretchen.
She thought that the idea of at least one therapy session would be good, get some stuff that had been eating at her off of her chest. Although the had gotten some things off of her chest, like Gretchen had predicted, she’s rather be in the basement with Angel, playing with swords and punching the lights out of the fake dummy. That would be more helpful then writing in some stupid journal.
It was eleven o’clock according to her watch and as much as she wanted to get up and go to bed like Fred & Lorne had done about an hour ago, she wanted to wait for Angel. She had had a vision earlier in the day telling Angel of a girl who needed to be slapped back into reality. She was going to sacrifice herself for something that wasn’t even possible. The Powers were sending her weird visions lately. The one of the girl, then there was on of a demon that they had fought and presumably killed before and to top it all off, that gang had gone to into a strip club to take down the hottest male stripper that Cordelia or Fred had ever seen. Well, know that she thought about it, they weren’t really that weird, were they? Just every day normalcy here at Angel Investigations. Turning back to her journal entry, she picked up the pen again and pressed it to the paper, but nothing was coming out until she caught eye of the picture sitting right in front of her.
Okay, I’m back. I don’t know for how long though. I still think this is pointless. What am I doing again? Oh yea, telling a book about my feelings. Well, instead of doing that I’m going to introduce you to my family. First there’s me and well, you know about me. Then there’s Wesley, the big brother figure. He used to be this clumsy ex-watcher, rogue demon hunter guy. Now, he’s the boss of our little detective agency and if I don’t say so myself, he’s doing a mighty fine job at it. Did I just say mighty fine? I’m so going soft and that’s not right.
Anyhow, Wesley: best guy in the whole world; love him to death. On quiet days, and that’s a lot, we have these talks. Not about anything in particular, but whatever is on our minds. Yesterday it was oddly enough, about the color black and how much of it Angel actually wears. I checked his closet out the other day and was shocked to find that he actually does own a light colored shirt. Of course, he would never admit to it or wear it, but it’s fun to know that it’s there, just so I can tease him about it. Oh, then there’s Lorne. He’s not what you might imagine, being green with horns and all. He’s actually sweeter than Wesley, if you can imagine that. And he’s always humming a tune, whether it be a new pop hit by the latest pop princess or one of the great standards by Duke Ellington or Glenn Miller. Although I have to admit, his edition of Singing in the Rain is pretty entertaining. I could go on and on about Lorne, but that would take up a whole new journal, maybe two the way I write and correct myself in every other line.
Let’s move on to Gunn. Charles Gunn. The LA street kid that grew up fighting demons all his life. A little secret: he may act all cool and confident on the outside, but on the inside he’s just as protective as the next demon-killing guy. He’s funny too. Always has some wise crack at the end of one of Wesley’s never ending speeches about an apocalypse or new demon that’s resurfacing. Plus, he’s easy on the eyes and that smile, (pause for effect) that smile, just like mine, could melt a million chocolate bars. He’s like another big brother too, well at least to me he is.
To Fred though, he’s just another one of her crushes. She seems to crush easily, now that I think about it. First it was Angel, then him and at the same time she’s having the same feelings for Wesley. Lorne and I are safe for now, you never know what that girl is going to say or think of next. She’s a little shy of the crazy label but, as we all say every day, she’s Fred. Somehow, rescuing her from Pylea doesn’t seem like it was a bad idea after all…plus, she kind of grows on you. And I like that. And having another girl, scratch that, woman around here isn’t all that bad.
We’re starting to tip the scale some too, all we have to do is find another demon-fighting girl who’ll work for a vampire with a soul, excluding the B-girl (Buffy) and other F-girl (Faith), who is currently serving time in the state prison for murder. Yea, we attract the sane ones alright. And for all of you who didn’t get that, it was supposed to be sarcastic. Okay, now I’m kind of getting tired, not only from the semi-busy day we had, but from waiting on Angel and from writing in this stupid journal. If, and I stress the if, I have time tomorrow, I’ll tell you about my long lost grandmother and if (again with the ifs) time prevails, maybe I’ll finally talk about Angel, my best friend Angel. Then the next day, maybe I’ll try Angel, the boyfriend?
Part 10
She sat in the Alice-in-Wonderland chair in his room, reading an old book filled with wonderful prose that she got lost in every so often. He was out fighting again, she knew. Fighting vampires and werewolves icky, smelly demons that would cause him to hop right into the shower once he got home, that was unless he was hurt and then she would patch him up as always. She looked forward to that.
Everytime a vision came, she didn’t want him to go but he did. And she prayed and hoped that he wouldn’t’ get hurt, but some part of her wished that he at least got a scratch just so she could wrap him up in bandages he didn’t necessarily need and just so she could feel his touch.
It wasn’t the warmest skin that she had laid her hand upon in all her twenty-three years, but the sensation sent fireworks to her heart, making it jump every time he was near her. Heck, even the thought of it sent fireworks to her heart and she did jump, well at least her legs did, up onto one of the sidearms of the chair.
Suddenly, she didn’t feel like reading anymore, she felt like training. It had to be almost three a.m. and Angel still wasn’t home and she was bored out of her mind. She needed to do something, something that would keep her from thinking of the possibilities.
Every night, she went to sleep and then the Sandman would visit, giving her dreams of plenty and every night it was the same dream: a sleeping two year old boy named Doyle sleeping with his head on Cordelia’s lap and her body within Angel’s. Like a family; a picture perfect family.
But it was only in her dreams, and even though she hoped that one day she...they would raise a family together, it wasn’t possible. Pulling her attention back to the book, she found herself not that interested anymore. Tossing the book aside, she leaned her head back and silently closed her eyes, her mind going back into her fantasy world.
* * *
Cordelia hung up the phone with fury as Dr. Yoro still refused to pay his bill. They had removed a large ass infestation of Hummer demons from his home almost eight months ago and just because he didn’t believe in them, as he claimed, didn’t mean that they weren’t there. Just tell his decorator that. Her head claimed the wooden desk as she started to knock her noggin against it, giving up on the flamboyant so-called doctor. Doctor of what? Who really knew or cared? Lord knows that she didn’t.
“Sweetie, you’re going to knock all that prettiness out of you if you don’t stop that.” Lorne warned her as he grabbed the mail, searching for the magazines he was famous for snatching without even letting her look at them.
“Funny.” She lifted her head up and pulled her hair out of her face. “What are you looking for?”
“Entertainment Weekly.”
“Gunn has it.”
“Gunn?”
“Gunn.” She stated again, knowing Lorne was thinking the same thing. Gunn was reading a magazine and an entertainment magazine no less. “Lorne?”
“Yea honeybuns?”
“Can I ask you something?” Cordelia looked up and over at him as he reached for the coffee pot.
“Okay, stupid question.” She said aloud, getting up out of the chair and lurking around her good friend who always had an ear to lend and advice to give, whether he wanted to give it or not.
“Do you think…” She was about to ask, when she stopped herself. She didn’t want to ask, probably didn’t even need to. “Nevermind.”
“You sure?”
“Yea.” She smiled back up at him and returned to her swivel chair, looking up the next client to call and ambush.
“Maybe later then.”
“Later.”
~
Eavesdropping was definitely not Angel’s forte, but he couldn’t help himself as he listened to Cordelia start to ask Lorne a question and then stop. Probably because she knew he was there. He couldn’t help but think about what she was going to ask the empath.
Was she feeling the same anxiety he was? He was still cooking up his master plan to romance the seer but had only gotten as far as flowers. Lorne recommended the dinner plan and Fred was the next to come up with the fun at the fair option, then Wes & Gunn opted for the obvious option: gifts. All three still lingered in the air, all just waiting to be snatched and set in its rightful place.
He could see her out of the corner of his eye, reaching for the phone and dialing another pending client’s number. He knew that the ‘therapy’ sessions had to be working at least a little bit, since every night when he came to bed, she was sitting right up in his bed writing her deepest thoughts onto sheets of off-white paper. He kind of hoped that most of the thoughts would be said aloud but that was her call and he wasn’t going to question her again.
He remembered one night last week where he had come home from cleaning out a vampire nest and caught her in the skinny room between his and hers: the nursery, the one that either of them hasn’t been in since she lost the baby. She had fallen asleep in the rocking chair and had the quilt wrapped around her to keep her warm.
He remembered Dennis had motioned the book to him and somehow conveyed the message of getting her to bed. Angel had scooped her up in his arms and laid her in her own bed this time, instead of taking her back to his. The queen sized mattress had not been slept in quite a while and even thought the silky sheets of his own bed sounded better, he couldn’t help but slip in beside her, pulling the cotton ones over his and hers’ lower bodies.
“Angel? What are you doing?” Wesley’s voice behind Angel jolted him out of his recollection as he twisted around and looked at his other best friend.
“Can I talk to you Wes?”
“Of course.” Wesley drank his store bought mocha latte as they went inside his office and shut both doors for the privacy. Wesley went behind his desk and sat down, still watching Angel watch Cordelia through the little slit of the sliding doors. “Angel?”
“Yeah, uh, since you’re the boss and everything I need to ask about your take on…” Angel scrubbed his head with edgy fingertips, searching for the right words.
“Yes?”
“Well, okay,” Angel finally sat down in a chair just across from Wes and just wanted to get this out of his head and into the air.
“Angel,” Wesley leaned forward, setting his latte aside and tore off his glasses saying, “she likes pink roses, fun at the pier, Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream and likes to go shopping no matter what time of day it is.”
“So, that means yes?”
“Yes. Just ask her out before we all die of old age or too much anticipation, whichever comes first.”
“Pink Roses?”
“Pink Roses.”
Part 11
Cordelia walked through the half lit courtyard outside the hotel, looking up at the pitch black night sky that wasn't revealing any stars tonight. Diverting her attention to the lawn chairs and bench that Gunn had set out earlier all for Lorne, so he could get a "tan", she took a seat and gazed up into the emptiness.
Los Angeles was too bright a city for any stars to seep through. A couple of nights ago though, she remembered seeing a few sparkles in the lack wink back at her. It was a treat to see them, since the last time she actually saw a night sky filled with glittering galaxies was...never, actually as she thought about it. She had never seen a sky filled with tens upon thousands upon gazillions of stars. She wondered why she ever listened to the childhood rhymes taught to her by her mother's housekeeper. They were very silly, especially to say it in Los Angeles. Starlight, Star bright, first star I see tonight... Silly.
As she closed her eyes, she could hear Lorne's tune in the background and his feet slowly stepping down the stairs into the courtyard. Peaking through her lids, she saw him sit down next to her and look up at the night sky.
"Looking for something darling?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest and looking across the two centimeters between them to her.
"Nothing really. I guess I just needed some fresh air."
"We all need that sometime." Lorne said, pausing and looking back up into the great unknown with her. Black. It was pitch black and there she was just staring into it, hoping, searching for something that wasn't there at the moment. "Cordy, the other day, you wanted to ask me something. You wanna talk about it now?"
"I wasn't really wanting to but I guess I should, right?" Cordelia looked over at him and shifted her position, gearing up the courage to talk to him about the aching that was still in her heart. She knew she should probably talk to Angel about it, but everytime she tried, the words just wouldn't come out. "Me and you, we have a connection."
"How so pumpkin?"
"With the powers and stuff. A connection."
"Yea, I guess we do. But I hardly think that that's what you wanted to talk about." Lorne rotated his chair and scooted closer to her. Taking her light hands in his deep green ones, he tried to make eye contact but knew that she would have to do that on her own. "Honey, you know I can see the bright light around you, but you have to talk to get it out."
"I know." She sniffed away the tears she knew would make a cameo appearance in a bit. "I know this sounds pathetic but I miss the morning sickness." Brushing her hair aside, she looked up into the green demon's crimson eyes and he watched as her lips quivered in a way that only Cordelia could.
"I miss the life inside of me, swirming around. I know this sounds crazy as I was only what, twenty one weeks along, but I could feel that baby move and...and...I miss him."
"Pumpkin, it's not pathetic. And don't you ever think that." Lorne whispered as he watched her cry her worries out again. It had been a month and a half since the surgery and she still hadn't got any closure from it. Who would? Twenty one weeks into a pregnancy, building a special bond and then, for some unknown cause, you lose the baby only to leave a vacant spot in your stomach, mind and heart. "Keep talking." He pleaded with her.
"I miss the kicks, I miss the nausea, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually miss everyone coming up to me and touching my stomach. And I hated that!" Her sobs became louder and longer as she went on with the bottled up emotions that she had been keeping inside of her for this long.
Her head finally caved in and she pressed it against Lorne's chest as he silently rubbed her back, consoling her and spotted Angel making his way out of the dark corner.
"Tell me more sweetie."
"I'm angry." She took another deep breath and shook her head that was still leaning against his chest. "Why did they take him away from me? Why?"
"Okay, look at me. Look at me." Lorne pulled Cordelia's chin up so he looked right back into her gold tinted eyes that were drenched with tears. "I can't tell you why you lost the baby, but I do know that you are strong and you can get through anything."
"Lorne..."
"He's right you know." Angel came up behind them as her head spun around and looked up at him. Sitting down next to her on the bench, Angel slid his arm around her as she leaned into him, her tears now soaking into his black shirt.
"You are strong and powerful and deep and I honestly don't know what I would do if you weren't here beside me." He whispered into her ear just loud enough so only her and Lorne could hear. Placing a kiss atop her forehead, he leaned back on the bench, taking her with him.
"I think we need to talk." He suggested, hearing the cries getting louder and longer.
***
Clasping her hands in his, he sat across from her on the floor of his room and watched as she took her time talking about the subject at hand again. He remembered that when they first came home from the hospital, she didn't want to talk about anything. She just wanted to get back to her 'normal routine': paying bills, handling clients with good credit reports and having visions. But he knew in his heart that she was just avoiding talking at all, about anything at all.
He squeezed a little tighter as she lifted her head a bit and looked into his eyes for a moment.
"Do you want me to talk?" He asked seeing her nod her head in return. "Okay, I'll talk." He paused for effect as he tried to recollect his moments with the Connor ordeal and how he first felt when the news of her loss.
"You remember how I was with the Connor situation. I was devastated, depressed and wanted my son back. You remember that. Then when I knew of you being pregnant, I kind of looked at that as a second chance." She looked up then, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and scooted closer to him. "I saw this as a new opportunity to have a second child. And raise it with you. I wanted to be a father and you to be the mother."
"Angel..." Her lips quivered again as she felt and he saw the tears coming. "I...I wanted this to be your child...I wanted..." She wiped away the tears that were escaping her eyes and wiped them upon her jeans.
"Sssh." Angel let go of her hands, scooted a little bit close to her and cupped her face with his hands, placing a much needed kiss for the both of them on her lovely lips. Kissing her had never felt so right before, not until now. He needed her, she needed him. He felt the intensity deepen with every minute that they spent attached to each other, moving their lips to caress the others.
The night still lingered outside, a sky remained pitch black and two people were finally starting to learn how to cope.
***
The gang sat side by side on the round sofa waiting for Angel to stop pacing before them. He was wearing a whole in the floor that they had spent tons of money fixing. The red stained pentagram was finally gone and the sparkle of the inlayed swirl of the marble floor was in its greatest glory. Wesley was the first one to roll his eyes, which was not normal at all and started to get up off of the sofa.
"Sit down Wes." Angel ordered, standing right in front of him. Wesley sat back down and took off his glasses, ready for this 'speech' to end. Angel had told them all that he and Cordelia had an announcement to make and everyone had to be there.
The only thing missing was Cordelia. They had decided on this together and wanted every one to know and be a part of it, but where the heck was she?
"Angel..." Fred started to say something but stopped seeing the get-up-and-move-and-you-are-dead expression on his face. She decided to forgo that yell-fest for the moment and diverted her attention to the stair well that Cordelia was finally descending after a half hour of Angel yelling her name for her to come down.
She walked up beside Angel and grabbed onto his hand, praying for the courage to say what they were going to tell them in one breath and keep from breaking down in the process.
"Okay, so, you all know that I've been kind of depressed lately..." Cordelia started to sniffle up and quickly dismissed it, putting on her biggest smile and repressing the tears while Angel took over the speech for her.
"We're gonna have a little ceremony on Friday." He paused, looking down at her head that was buried deep in his shoulder now. "For the baby."
Part 12
So, Friday came and went. Well not totally. It’s about two minutes until Saturday morning and even though we had a small ceremony today for my baby, our baby I haven’t really been dealing well with it. I kind of thought it would give me some sort of closure, you know. But who can really get over anything like this? I feel like…I don’t know how to deal with anything like this or tell a stupid journal my deepest thoughts about it. Sometimes I just want to cry my heart out and sometimes I want to scream at the top of my lungs.
Cordelia looked up and over at the dimmed side table to her right and tried to find the next words that were floating through her brain. Angel was out, killing some demon thing over in Korean Town again. Everything was happening over there nowadays, she realized. The last three visions she had had been located in Korean Town. She brushed it off, thinking it as nothing and looked back to her scribbles that nobody but her could read.
I know last time I was talking about my family and the possibility of Angel: the boyfriend. Well, Angel: the boyfriend is a work in progress so I’ll tell you about Gretchen, my long lost grandmother who is two doors over from me right now probably sleeping the night away while I am waiting up for a vampire that doesn’t know any other color in the rainbow spectrum other than black. What is it with vampires and the color black? Okay, getting off track again Cordelia. Back to Gretchen. I never thought that I’d actually like her, her being a Chase and all and we all know that members of the Chase family are usually stuck up and have that better-than-thou persona, yours truly included, but that was a long time ago. I’m different and she is definitely different then the rest of my screwed up blood related family. She’s kind, funny, and open to all things of the supernatural, which is definitely a plus. I mean with Lorne being green and all with the horns and him sleeping right across the hall from her, she better be open to it. She was here for the ceremony today. Held my hand and made sure that I wasn’t left alone for one second. She’s much like Angel in that respect. There I go, back to Angel. (Turning right to take the scenic route around him.) Now back to our regularly scheduled program: Gretchen Chase. She’s taller than me. And has this whispy salt and pepper shoulder length hair that looks like it belongs to a goddess. She might be thin, but she sure can patch a mean punch too. Just ask Gunn.
Cordelia pulled her head p from the journal writing as Angel entered the bedroom with a dusty leather duster and threw it on the bed.
“Hey!”
“Why aren’t you asleep?” He asked, shedding his shirt and tossing it into the already overflowing laundry basket.
“Don’t change the subject.” She pointed out, setting her journal and pen on the side table and taking the jacket off of the bed and hanging it up. “Jacket meet hanger.” She said, turning back and showing Angel of her accomplishment.
“Again, why aren’t you asleep?” He asked again, slipping into the bed and pulling the sheets up over him. She sat back down beside him and tweaked her eyebrows a certain way to make Angel wonder about her a bit more.
Opening her journal back up, pen in hand she smiled down at him and returned to her inner thoughts.
Okay, so Angel and dusty jackets on the bed don’t mix. Plus, he’s pushy when he gets back from slaying a mob of vampires. But I love him. Don’t ask me why, because I probably couldn’t give you just one reason, but I love him; with all of my heart and soul. So, about this Angel: the boyfriend thing: do you think it could work? I hope it could, because come tomorrow or the next day, I’m not quite sure yet, we’re going to find out.
Cordelia set the journal aside again, turning off the dim light on the table and slid down into the sheets, snuggling up next to him. With her chin digging into his bare chest, she looked up into his closed eye lids and smiled. This was it. This was right where she needed to be.
All those speeches about him saving her just seemed so insignificant now. He was saving her right now as he held her close to him in his bed. He saved her each and every time he looked at her; each and every time he smiled or said her name. It was all like he said once before.
“Angel, I don’t want you saving me!”
“Saving you is my job Cordelia. Whether you want to see it or not.” He argued with her, watching her flee to the other side of the bed again. Flying up and over the king sized mattress, Angel caught her by the shoulders and forced her to sit down and hear what he had to say. “Saving you…it’s my job, Cordelia. Because if you aren’t here than I’m not either.” A confused look came upon her brow then, not fully understanding what he meant by that.
“The whole reason I am still standing here in front of you, arguing with you about a simple little thing is all because of you. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. I would be gone, because you weren’t there to save me. So as many times as I have to, I will save you. I will.” He stressed.
“Angel…why?”
“Because I love you and you are worth everything to me.” He kneeled on the carpeted floor and clasped her hands, looking up into her gold glistened eyes. “I will save you.”
"Well, just stop..."
"I can't. I won't. Ever."
Lowering her head to rest upon his chest, Cordelia closed her eyes and smiled, knowing that as long as she was there, she would save him and he would save her.
* * *
“Can I ask you something Angel?” Gretchen asked the vampire with a very sharp sword in his hand as she sat down on the wooden steps going down to the basement. He turned around and grabbed for the towel hanging on the banister, wiping away the sweat that was protruding on his brow.
“Sure.”
“I hope I’m not being to forward, but can you tell me what your intentions with my granddaughter are?”
What kind of question was that? Intentions? Of course, he could see her point, Cordelia being her granddaughter and all. Intentions? What were his intentions with her? He didn’t know and couldn’t tell her if his shanshu depended on it. He loved her, there was no doubt about that but if she asked him how exactly he planned to sweep her off of her feet, he didn’t have an explanation.
“I’m not sure…” He stuttered as Gretchen squinted her eyes at him and sat quietly, waiting on an answer.
“She loves you, you know.” Gretchen stood up then, reaching for the sword in his hands and putting it back in the weapons cabinet. “She told me about the ballet the last time I was here; said it was one of the most wonderful times in her life.”
“She did?”
“Yes. But she also said that that wasn’t the best time she had with you.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No, she said something about a hospital a while ago. That you and her became roommates for a while.” Gretchen gave him a faint smile and recalled the conversation she had had with her granddaughter.
“She said that you make the best eggs in town, you like to watch Bonanza no matter what time of day it is and that you like freesia shower gel.”
“It smells good.” He said in his defense to the last part. “Where are you going with this, Miss Chase?”
“Well, no where really, I just want to know what your intentions are with her. Are you going to court her for the rest of your life, are you going to marry her, do you want to have a family with her?” Gretchen stressed, walking about the damp basement noting all the training equipment that they actually had in the single room.
Angel was taken aback by the questions and sat down on the last wooden stair. What was he supposed to say? He wanted to do all those things, and more.
“That’s quite a lot to answer.”
“I’ve got the time. Enlighten me.” Gretchen said, taking a pack of cigarettes out of back pocket and sticking it in her mouth. “You mind?” She asked, seeing him nod and then lit the filtered tobacco product up.
“I love her.”
“Well, that’s obvious.” Gretchen blew out the cigarette smoke she had been aching to blow out since Friday afternoon when they all planted two small trees in the courtyard in memory of both Connor and Cordelia’s lost baby.
The first tree for Connor was a birch tree and is said to promote healing for the mourning and sick. The other tree, for Cordelia’s lost baby was a willow tree. The willow tree is said to soothe emotions, and banish depression and sadness. It was perfect for her.
“Go on, keep enlightening.” She said, inhaling another bit of her cigarette.
“Have you talked to Cordelia?” Angel said, wiping the towel over his forehead again.
“Angel, what’s your real first name?”
“It’s Angel. Just Angel.”
“Okay, so when you and her get married, are you going to be Mr. Angel Angel?”
“Who says that we’re getting married? I mean, I haven’t even gotten up the nerve to ask her out.”
“So, start asking.”
“You.” Angel thought about it before he said it as he watched Gretchen put out the cigarette into the brick wall. “You and her are definitely related.”
Gretchen smiled back at him and raised her eyebrows, knowing he was exactly right.
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