Title: Belonging Epilogue
Author: Natauni
Posted: 05-02-2001
Rated PG-13 for some language. Otherwise you got your basic Angelrant.
Feedback... if you take it seriously enough to comment, i'll be impressed. But I'd love to hear from you :P
Notes: Hi all... no I'm not dead, just unbeleiveably swamp in RL as of late. I haven't forgotten nor abandoned either Catharsis (the nd generation) or Guarding Spirit. Got a HUGE stack of work to do and an apartment to move into though within the month too, though, so please be patient. Meantime, and entirely unserious follow up to Belonging. This is what happens when BJ can't sleep...
He was reasonably sure he was going to have to kill something. And soon.
Not that he knew precisely who…or even -how,- at this moment. That didn't seem nearly as important as the -why.-
'Note to self…. Next time your overly-depressed, overly-exhausted, overly-ogled seer tries to tell you she 'just knows' something on the same day you find her wearing a next to nothing bikini in public, do the intelligent thing and lock her in the trunk of your car until you can safely sequester her in the basement back at the Hyperion.' He scowled grimly as he stared again at the dimly lit stage in front of him - as if hoping that stewing hard enough would somehow manage to transmit his thoughts across the dimensional barrier to wherever Cordelia was at the moment. He had a message for her and she damn well better be getting it. Cause he was going to have some serious words with the woman when he found her. After he wrung her skinny little neck.
He was never letting her out of the office again and that was all there was to it.
He was not pleased at the moment. He was very NOT PLEASED.
How in the world had he allowed himself to be talked -into- this? And by this he meant talked into letting a twenty-one year old with a stiff upper lip and circles under her eyes embark on her own little version of 'let's enact a science experiment.' He'd -known- this was a bad idea. Felt it all the way to his bones. But she's looked so damn sure and Landok hadn't had time for his quibbles, so he'd bit his tongue and let himself be talked into something nothing short of idiotic. Already over the past few weeks Cordelia had proven on more than one occasion to be in a seriously questionable state of emotional and mental health, and yet he'd given in spite of his instincts. Because he'd thought she needed it.
She'd seemed so blasted tired and grouchy and despondent and …well just EVERYTHING, lately. He'd wanted to prove he appreciated her and trusted her contributions where testosterone poisoned Hollywood denizens obviously didn't. And she'd look so damn convinced.
The Power's had to have a hand in this right? Thus far they'd mostly kept them all safe… He hadn't even had the insight to recognize Murphy's Law in action.
She was gone. He'd lost her. The words didn't want to register and yet there they were. Loud and clear and horrifying and not going anywhere. He'd -lost- her. He'd been with her in the library less than three hours ago - watching her read from a mangled page of words that looked more like a code than any kind of dialect he knew of. He'd seen the portal open himself and had been forced to physically grab onto her for fear of her being sucked in. And yet had he learned anything from the experience? Had he been even slightly intelligent with his gained knowledge? Why hadn't he remembered that - the force of the vortex, before they'd all trouped into Caritas?
He should have had the foresight to make her wait for them in the car. He should have eighty-sixed the option. If he had, he wouldn't be here now: standing alone and worried beyond all public sanity in a disheveled demon karaoke bar that still hadn't been cleaned up from the last time an inter-dimensional portal has seen fit to make an appearance. All around him, he could see the broken glasses and chairs and tables that had been the casualties of a frantic exit from the bar. Not to mention the backdrop of Gunn and Wesley and the Host: all who were standing there looking every bit as flustered as he felt.
Like him, the three men had joined in a hasty search of the building when they realized Cordelia was missing. The result had been undeniable: the portal had gotten her too - the Queen was no longer in the house.
Now they were waiting to see what he was going to do. And what was he going to do? Well, exploding was sounding better and better every moment, actually, but he digressed. Instead he was bound and determined to get back to the matter of most importance at the moment - namely cursing Cordelia.
Assuming he could find her, of course. Assuming she would be safe and well if he did.
His frown grew even dimmer and his stomach knotted as his mind started ticking off the possibilities. She could defend herself right? Cordelia was street smart. She knew when to hide and when to run and where to aim if neither of the above were available options. She'd be just fine.
Wasn't that what he loved about her? That she didn't ever break and she rarely even bent. That she didn't take crap from anyone. Well other than bastard Hollywood directors.
Why had she let that man talk to her that way? And why, irrationally did he want nothing more than to go rip the testosterone laden perverts spleen out through his naval?
'Calm, Angel. You must stay calm.' If he was going to get her back he would have to remain rational. He must not turn around and kill either of the men behind him; he didn't know how they were going to get to wherever it was that portal had sent her but he was more than reasonably sure he'd need Wesley's help to do it. Besides it wasn't as if either of them were to fault. So he could stoppy hissy fitting.
-Hissy fitting?!- Where in hell had that come from? Since when had he -had- an inner Cordelia" As if one wasn't bad enough already.
That was it. Forget all notions of propriety and twentieth century feminism. He was going to find that girl and once he was sure she was all right, he was gonna turn her over his knee. And then he was dragging her off to the safety of the cave again. And he was going to kill that director.
'Be alive when I get there, Cordelia' he ordered the open air.
He and his seer had a serious talk coming.
End.