Title: A Foolish Plan
Author: psychofilly
Posted: 01-15-2004
Email: rr1013@ev1.net
Rating: PG-13
Category: Angst, Post-ep/AU
Content: C/A
Summary: He'd foolishly thought that the universe had taken it's boot off his neck long enough for him to make a play for it all.
Spoilers: Dad/Birthday
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Just Fic, My sites.
Notes: This is a response to Lara's Love Actually CHALLENGE. I'm weak, and it's all Katy's fault. One thing that just about eveyone (including myself) seems to have forgotten is that Birthday is the episode immediately following Dad. This replaces Birthday.
Feedback: A big fat duh.
Thanks/Dedication: Special thanks to Wasabi Oni, Kel and Anne for spanking the fic into shape.
"I sent everyone home. They all needed some rest, but first thing tomorrow they'll be back on it." He leaned forward and grabbed her hand for what felt like the millionth time, "Come back to me, Cor. Don't leave me now. You can't- I won't let you." He squeezed her hand tightly, hoping for a reaction. It was almost as cold as his. He breathed her in, the floral scent of her shampoo, the fading smell of sun-warmed beaches... he already missed the sound of her laughter. "I am so angry with you right now-"
She had just been trying to help. He knew that. He'd known it despite her whining and bitching about the Powers. He knew in the way she'd slowly turned outside of herself and begun to care about his mission as something more than his possible redemption. She'd been saddled with visions that were painful, soul wrenching and -obviously- debilitating, yet she'd adopted his mission to help the hopeless as her own and made it into something bigger than the two of them... He knew it, even as he sat at her bedside watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.
He'd thought he had it all figured out. He had taken a chance- made a desperate gamble to ensure the safety of his son and it had worked. He'd foolishly thought that the universe had taken it's boot off his neck long enough for him to make a play for it all. Riding on his success, he'd decided to gamble on love too.
Reality crashed in on him as any fleeting moment of happiness he could have had was once again snatched away. He'd been half out of his mind with worry for the last two days, frantic to wake her. He'd called everyone he could reach when he it had become clear that he couldn't. Wes had hit the books, Gunn had hit the streets, running down any lead that Angel couldn't handle. Fred played nursemaid and Lorne- he'd tried to reach inside her but apparently no one was home.
For two days Angel had torn a bloody swath through LA, looking for options, but apparently those were all gone too. Not even the Powers for whom they both toiled for would answer his pleas for help. They were in over their heads. Only this time, it had caught even their enemies by surprise. So now he sat at her bedside, watching her breathe, willing her to come back to him, teetering on the brink of despair as the weight on his shoulders threatened to snap him in half.
"Come back to me Cor," he sighed one last time as, utterly exhausted, he lay his head on the bed beside her comatose form. Memories of the last week haunting him as he tumbled into a fitful slumber.
***
She had just been trying to help. He knew that. He'd known it when he'd ripped his hand out of hers and stuck it in the sun, when he'd stomped away angry and hurt that she'd so effectively pointed out his limitations as a father. He was already half out of his mind with worry over his son, and she'd brought another dose of harsh reality down on him. He'd walked away, with Connor in his arms, pissed at her, pissed at Wolfram and Hart and all those nebulous threats that were out there waiting for him to slip up. He felt like if he put Connor down for one second, let him out of his sight for even an instant, he'd lose this one precious gift, this son that been given to him- a blessing borne of his own stupidity.
He'd clutched his son tightly as he'd gone into the broom closet and read Lorne's note. Another dose of reality. The weight on his shoulders got that much heavier. No wonder Wolfram and Hart seemed to know what was going on even better than they did... He spent a lot of time in that broom closet just sitting and thinking while he jiggled his son and made nonsense noises to keep him quiet.
Unfortunately most of his thoughts had circled around to the point that Cordelia had so bluntly made. He was in over his head. She knew it, the gang knew it, and every evil entity that could possibly profit from the birth of his son knew it too. He kicked a mop bucket, smiling mirthlessly as it slammed into the far wall. He didn't have a hell of a lot of options.
So, Angel sat and ticked through the things he *did* know, the options he *did* have. He was about to sink into despair when the germ of an idea began to take root. It was crazy. It was foolish, but sometimes when your options were slim, a foolish plan was the best plan. It would require him to do the one thing he found most difficult- trust. He heard footsteps. Acting fast, he opened the door and pulled Wes inside.
When he'd gotten to Cordy, the tension had been thick in the small room. She stood with her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently as he slowly, and haltingly began to explain his plan. Her face had been a good deal softer when he'd finished. She'd reached up, ignoring his instinctive flinch as she'd brushed her hand over the soft down of his baby's head and said she'd do it. However the ice of his earlier anger still hung between them. She knew he was trusting her out of necessity, and so a chill settled that had yet to fully thaw.
The week after the battle had passed quickly, and was blessedly uneventful. It was as if the Powers had decided to finally let them catch their breath, and so the worst task of this week had been scrubbing the destruction left by Holtz and Wolfram and Hart from the Hyperion lobby. Cordy's birthday was tomorrow. He'd found the time, somewhere between blowing his enemies to hell and his never-ending search for Holtz, to buy her a present.
She'd read him books on child care, changed his son's dirty diapers, given baths, listened to him talk and taken over the duties that he'd eventually been forced to admit he couldn't do. Their intimacy had hit a new level that he'd never dreamed he'd share with *anyone* and still she held back. He'd apologized about snapping at her, and she'd forgiven him, yet every day seemed to draw her further away- those inner parts, the ones he couldn't touch with his hands.
Her sudden need to distance herself emotionally was driving him insane, because over the last few months he'd come to realize that, besides his son, she was the one person he couldn't live without. Before he had been Angel- a loner. He'd thought himself better off without love, cut off not just by necessity but by choice. Today he was a father, connected far more with life than a fleeting moment of belonging in a woman's arms had prepared him for. Cordy had become an intrinsic part of that- of him.
It was late, the time when most people were home eating dinner and catching up with their families. Angel pulled into a spot about a block away from Cordelia's apartment, and gathered the materials he'd carefully prepared. He'd almost said something today, for the millionth or the first time, the feelings brewing inside of him almost spilling out into the tangible world.
He'd caught her staring at him, a soft smile on her face, shining eyes drinking them in like she was just off a two-week sojourn in the desert. Any embarrassment over being caught singing tuneless lullaby to his son evaporated as she blushed, dropping her gaze only to shyly stare back up through her lashes.
He'd stood up, rocking his son as he crossed the room to stand by her side.
She smiled, "Gimme," she said, holding her arms out and beckoning with her hands.
He shook his head. "I just got him to sleep." He turned slightly, angling away from her because he didn't trust her not to wake the baby just to steal some snuggle time. She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout and pinched the back of his arm.
"Meanie," she huffed when he just glared at her, bumping her with his hip before taking the baby to his bassinet and carefully laying him down for his mid-morning nap. She trailed along behind him, plopping down ungracefully on the little round couch to better watch the tiny baby sleep. After a moment’s deliberation, he sat down beside her, slouching back until their shoulders touched. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, a small frown forming on her brow.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Fine," she shot back automatically.
"Oh, okay." He was beginning to believe in her “fines” less and less these days, but he had a harder time broaching that subject than his feelings for her. He ran his finger over the curve of her thumb. She moved her hand away. "I saw a script in your inbox the other day. Are you thinking about taking up acting again?"
She shrugged, her shoulder sliding silkily against his. "My agent sent it, but I hadn't decided one way or the other."
"Would you like me to read it with you?"
"You?" she snorted, "Yeah, right."
"I could," he protested, hurt that she'd dismiss him so easily. "I could," he insisted.
"I'll think about it," she said dismissively. He knew that she meant 'when hell freezes over' so he changed tactics, anything to get her talking to him. "You- you look nice today."
Her head slowly swiveled and the look on her face labeled him some sort of freak. "I've been cleaning demon-guts off the floor all morning, in sweats, and I haven't washed my hair in two days. Try another one, pal."
"You always-" Angel opened and closed his mouth, taken aback by her brush-off. Truth be known, he hadn't noticed the clothes or the stringy hair. That stuff had little to do with what he had begun to see in her. "-Look great," he finished lamely.
She patted his knee, using it to push off the couch. "Thanks big guy," she said, swaying unsteadily for a moment before walking slowly to the counter.
"Cor, are you all right?"
Her mouth drew down into a tight line. "I'm *fine*, like I said before, O deaf one." She rummaged through her bag pulling out a change of clothes. "I'm just a little sore from crawling around on the floor, scrubbing harder than Cinderella before she got to go to the ball."
"I'm sorry," he said, unsure if he was apologizing to her or to himself for not saying what he really wanted to say, which was 'I love you. I wish you'd really talk to me again. I wish I could be the Prince Charming at the ball and sweep you off to someplace where we can be a family without the visions and the people trying to kill us.' but those words stuck in his throat as he'd watched her wave over her shoulder as she'd headed to Fred's room for a shower.
He'd spent the rest of the afternoon in a frustrated brood before he'd overheard Fred and Cordelia walking down the hall, talking about a movie Gunn had taken her to see. Cordy had sighed, a soft sound that settled into his soul and tugged at him in all the right places. He'd patted his son’s bottom and "shushed" him as he edged closer to the hallway conversation.
The movie had been some romantic comedy, something that would have probably put him to sleep within fifteen minutes, but as Fred described a certain scene, Cordy had expressed a certain wistful admiration for it. Angel had thought it was idiotic, wondering who the hell would need to use flash cards to get his point across, but then again- it wasn't like he'd had the best of luck at telling Cordelia how he felt. If only she'd stop brushing him away whenever he tried to dance anywhere near a personal topic. The women passed him by unawares on their slow trek down to the lobby.
So he'd sat in his room with his package wrapped in gold, turning it over and over in his fingers as he thought. He analyzed his options, weighing the pros and cons, fretting over the best way to go about telling her. It wasn't as easy as it sounded. The words had been on the tip of his tongue more times than he could count. Perfect words, words that would melt her into a puddle and thaw the chill that frosted her eyes, even when she was touching his arm with warm fingers.
It had finally come to him, just as he was about to sink into despair, a solution to his problem. It was crazy. It was foolish. It had to work. Even if she didn't return the sentiment, at least she would know. It would be out there. She loved him, he *knew* she did. No woman would put up with the crap he dished on a daily basis if they didn't. He also knew that love didn't mean that she wouldn't reject him. Hell, with the single father, vampire and curse issues, he'd reject himself. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. If she did tell him to get lost, he'd deal. He still had his son, but God-Dammit he wanted Cordy too.
He went over the plan once more as he clutched his supplies to his chest and hurried across the tiny lawn to her door. She'd probably think him a fool. He *was* a fool, but sometimes when your options were slim, a foolish plan was the best plan. It would require him to do the one thing he found most difficult- to take the first step, to make himself vulnerable- to risk....
***
Cordelia rubbed the imaginary grit out of her eyes; fingers sliding round to her temples to massage the throb that had permanently settled there. Going into work and smiling, laughing, talking and working had become more and more a chore- except those times spent with Connor and his ever-increasingly bizarre father. She was storing up memories unique to the entire screwed up universe- good memories. Her smiles weren't forced when she remembered Angel giving Connor his first bath. Hands that had destroyed families wholesale cradling his tiny son so very carefully. She'd laughed and snapped a surprise picture of Angel with his hair plastered on one side of his face. She still had no clue how he got so wet, and the annoyed flash in his eyes when she'd run and passed the camera outside the door to Fred had melted into warmth that pieced the growing numbness of her senses.
Her smiles weren't forced when she curled up on Angel's big bed, him lying on his stomach with Connor between them while she read about "Baby's first weeks" and anything else that would help them at least look like they knew what the hell they were doing. She'd smile softly when he'd palm his baby's back, pale hand covering it completely, however the smile would falter when he'd brush his hand over her ankle, or squeeze her knee to get her attention... then she'd push a wide plastic grin on her face, terrified that he'd see the truth if she didn't hide it.
Hide the fact that she was dying.
She tightened the sash on her robe and picked the mug of cooling tea off of the little pull out cutting board, picking her sandwich plate up and shuffling through the little arch to her table. She set her plate down and began her nightly ritual of counting out her pills. Migraine medication, muscle relaxers, anti-anxiety pills, and vitamins... she could get full off the pills alone. However, here at home, she didn't have to hide how badly she felt. She could put the cheerleader to bed and just be plain, tired, dying Cordy. The doctors had told her she should tell her friends, to make arrangements. Maybe it was stupid that she was hiding it from them, but then again. She bet the doctor had never been friends with a vampire. She couldn't let him take away her choices in her life. She'd fought to hard to become-
A sharp knock at the door startled her, and she dropped the Vicodan she was taking. She groaned in frustration as she heard the tiny plink of the pill hitting the floor and rolling under the table. She bent down in her chair, tracking its movements. The knock came again, louder, more insistent. That was Angel's knock. "Fuck," she cursed, knowing she didn't have time to stash the evidence of her life's big fat secret, so she did the next best thing she could think of and swept all the bottles into a heap and threw a napkin over them. She rushed to the door, patting the front of her robe, her hair- not that it would matter. Angel rarely showed up at her door unless it was an emergency...
She opened the door. "Angel?" she asked, to the dark hair and broad back that was standing on her doorstep. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath and slowly turned around. "What's going on?" He didn't say anything, only tapped his finger against a white piece of poster board in his hands. "Ok-aay, is this some bizarro midnight pictionary or something because-"
He flipped the first card to reveal one written with the words "Shut up."
She opened her mouth to protest and he flipped the cards again to reveal, "You talk too much." Her mouth snapped closed with an audible click.
She noticed that his hands were shaking when he shuffled the cards again. This one read, "I've been trying to tell you something."
Shuffle, "But I couldn't find the words."
Flip, "I've never met anyone like you."
"I've never had a friend like you."
"I've never trusted anyone the way I do you."
"I've never had anyone touch me like you do."
"Inside." Cordelia frowned, wondering what he was up to.
He shuffled. "I love the way you laugh."
"I love how you make me get over myself."
"I love your smile."
"The real one."
"You take care of my son."
"You take care of me too."
"You have no idea how much that means to me." Cordelia's hand covered her mouth; her eyes began to sting.
Angel kept shuffling the cards, a determined expression on his face. "I love your hair."
"I love the curve of your neck."
"I love the dip in your back where your tattoo is."
"I love the arch of your foot." A lump formed at the back of Cordy's throat, making it difficult to breath.
"You are perfect to me."
She snorted, when he revealed, "This is *not* your birthday present."
"No, I didn't forget it."
"This year."
"This is me." She looked into his eyes, incredulous.
He pointed back down at the placards, "Telling you."
"I love you."
"Yes, you."
"Yes, in that way."
"I love you, Cordelia."
All the cards were gone, and there was just Angel standing there looking like she held his very existence in her hands. The tears that had threatened broke free and slipped silently down her cheeks. She brought her other hand up and swiped them angrily across her cheeks, but more tears fell. This couldn't be happening, not now. It was too cruel. "Dammit, Angel!" As she backed away quickly gesturing for him to come in. He moved stiffly, obviously unsure of her reaction, but he came in and closed the door.
"Cordy?" he said, taking a step forward. She raised her hand, searching around for something to dry her eyes with. Without thinking she picked up the napkin from the table, balling it up and dabbing the corners of her eyes. When she looked up, black fabric was all she could see. Angel had moved toe to toe with her, and the smell of leather and cologne wafted around her like a gentle embrace. "I'm sorry."
"No, no don't apologize- not for that, Angel." She looked up, catching his worried eyes with hers. "I'm sorry. I should have said something, but that,- that...."
He smiled. "Did I make you speechless?" he asked as he lifted his hand, hovering it tentatively over her shoulder before dropping it down to rest there. "That's good, right?"
The cool weight of his hand, the gentle sweep of his thumb as it caressed her collarbone scattered her thoughts like newspaper caught in a breeze. "You did, it is, but-"
"Shut up, Cor," he growled softly. "Just tell me you love me too."
Her hand splayed across his chest. She could give him that, couldn't she, before she broke his heart? His fingers curled around her hand, trapping it there over the vast silence where there should have been a beat. "You know I do." She whispered, and the wide hopeful smile that broke out on Angel's face nearly undid her. He pulled her close, in a fierce, bone-crunching hug.
"God, Cor," he said against her ear, shuddering. "I've been trying to tell you for so long, I just- I couldn't, and you weren't talking to me and I was worried that you didn't feel the same way, and-"
"Whoa, hey," she pushed him back a step, "slow down big guy." He looked so adorably lost that she stepped forward, fisting her hands in his shirt as she rose onto her toes and pressed a soft kiss against his mouth. Angel's strong arms wrapped around her waist, not letting her pull away. He leaned in, mouth capturing hers, hungry for affection. She didn't fight it when his tongue swept out and touched her lips. She opened her mouth, hands sliding up to run through his hair as he deepened the kiss, pressing her close as he tasted her secrets for the first time.
When he finally let her come up for air, she cupped his cheek, running her thumb over his bottom lip. Her knees went a little weak at the way he leaned into the touch, kissing the pad of her thumb and then scraping it with his teeth. He looked so- ready. Her body responded, feeling more alive than it had in months. Her senses flared, colors sharpening, smells assaulting her, background noises becoming evident, and touch- her skin was on fire. However she knew deep down it was only an illusion. She was nearly out of time, and he needed to know.
"We need to talk," she said, breaking free of his embrace and leading him towards the couch. "There is something that I need to tell you."
"Can't it wait?" he asked quietly, as his fingers circled her wrist and then slid upwards under the terry-fabric of her robe, cold, cold fingers that sent a bolt of electric feeling up her nerves, leaving her whole arm tingling.
"I wish," she breathed, pushing him down on the couch.
"Then tell me tomorrow," he commanded, voice low, authoritarian. His eyes burnt with want and love. "I know I can't show you how I feel in every way that I'd like, but there are -things- we could do," his tone dropped as he smiled, leaning back onto the couch, patting the cushion beside him. He acted so confident that she would be unable to resist. "Things that I am *going* to do, Cor."
It would be so easy to give themselves one night, but as selfish as she was, she couldn't be so unfair- not to him. "Angel, I'm die-" The vision hit and all was blackness.
***
Angel jerked awake at the memory of Cordelia's sudden collapse.
Angel's head snapped up, as a tingling feeling crawled up his skin, causing the fine hairs on his neck to bristle. He sat up and scanned the room, eyes darting from dark corner to dark corner. The air was weighted with a presence- they were not alone.
A bolt of lightning shot through the room, hitting Cordelia and throwing him into the far wall. The air stank of ozone and singed hair -his own. He jumped to his feet in full game face, ready to tear his way to heaven if that's what it took to make it all just stop. There was a gasp, and Cordelia jerked upwards, eyes wild as she searched the room. "Angel?"
"Cordelia?" he yelled. He rushed to her side and her arms opened for him. "Cordy!" he said as he sank into her embrace. "I thought I lost you."
He pulled away his eyes narrowing as he examined her closely. He took a few deep breaths, his lips parting slightly to let the air bring her taste to him. Her heartbeat was steady, the rhythm normal, but her scent- it was sweeter somehow, a little deeper. It wasn't entirely human. He grabbed her by the shoulders. "What did you do!" he said, voice fading to a low rumbling growl as he shook her once, then twice. "Who are you?"
"It's still me, Angel." Her happy expression wilted, her face becoming serious as she tried to pull out of his iron grip. "We have to talk."
"What did you do!" he snapped, not quite ready to believe her over his senses.
"I took a chance," Cordy said. "I met the Powers. They- that vision should have killed me, but they intervened."
"What? How!" he demanded, finally loosening his grip on her arms. It was her, every look, gesture and inflection was her....
"They showed me my options- and I decided to gamble on the one that kept me here- with you," she said, her words heavy with unspoken promises.
The tight fist in Angel's gut loosened. The gentle gleam in her eye was something that couldn't be duplicated. Whatever changes that had been made, Cordelia -the real deal- was sitting in front of him. Angel realized the smart thing to do would be to call Wes, to get everyone back here and begin to dig into just what the powers had done, but Angel was beginning to cultivate a fondness for foolish plans...
"You not being here is not an option," he said scooting them both up on the bed and gently pulling her down into his arms. "You keeping secrets is not an option anymore either." He stroked her softly, running his hand up and down her arm, getting used to the new smell of her as he reacquainted himself with the silk of her skin. "Tomorrow morning we are going to go in and start researching just what kind of change the Powers made to you and why. You *will* answer everyone's questions to their satisfaction or-"
She lifted her head to look at him, her expression slyly teasing, "Or what?"
He grinned, "I'm a vampire, Cor. I can do a lot worse than turn you over my knee."
"Ooh scary," she scoffed, her face scrunching, "And also kinda creepy."
He pulled her up, cupping her cheek, running his fingers over her brow, skating them across her lips. He sucked in a sharp breath when she took the tip of his finger into her mouth, her eyes locked with his and his gut tightened with hunger. He licked his lips, letting his breath out in a sigh as she leaned in and kissed him softly. There would be time later for sorting through the harsh realities of their world. Tonight, as he ticked through the things he *did* know, the only option he saw was finishing what he'd started when he'd knocked on her door two days ago. Acting fast, he tangled his hands in Cordelia's hair, rolled her underneath him and kissed her back.End.
