Title: At the Game
Author: psychofilly
Posted: 09-12-2002
Rating: R for language
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Content:
Summary: Please note, this is sort of an experimental peice. I tried to get inside our dear boy's head. This is the train wreck that happened. Realize I know nothing about the football teams in Cali. So imagine whatever team wherever and just go with the story...Go TEXANS!!!
Spoilers: Up to season 4, but not a huge issue except for the fact that Angel is a little edgier.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes:
Feedback: You know I want it.
Well I'm here...didn't want to come, never want to go, but she always makes me.
The lights are too bright, hurt my eyes too exposed...I want to go back into the belly of the beast where it's dark. Not here with the roaring and the gleaming struts and high arch, bright ugly monstrosity. I need a drink or ten. The corridor is better, but only slightly. Too many people, everywhere all the smells and the heat, meat sacks filled with hot blood. The rush and rumble and wet beat of thousands of hearts...wanna taste 'em all. Saw a pretty little girl with red hair...smelled like innocence, bet she'd taste like daisy's.
OK, deep breath, not going there, smell Cordy, familiar steady, right. there. She's got her back to me now, talking to Connor in the seat next to her. Proud of my boy, he hasn't panicked yet, just barely. Can't believe Cordy dragged us all *here*. What the hell was I thinking, she's never picking the place again. Can't think around her, always bowls me over with that tongue. I can think of better things for her to do with it.
Everyone stands and shouts. It hurts my ears and I see Connor flinch, eyes wild...but ever dutiful we both stand as Cor jumps up and claps between us. Jump again, makes 'em jiggle. Connor even raises a fist, but his eyes wander. Grr boy, look away. We sit. Connor asks something, but I don't catch it. The man beside me bumps into me, again.
Cordy is explaining the rules to Connor. I listen hard, trying to keep up with her rapid fire explanations. Girl knows her football. I am familiar with the regulations, that's not what I listen for. She may be explaining football, but Cor tends to let important words drop in the middle of the most inconsequential...Keeps me on my toes...need that. I've known her going on four years and *I* still don't know all her rules. So, I listen hoping to catch a word or phrase that helps me understand her better. Her rules are not written in any book to be read and memorized, don't I wish. Ha. They are many and subject to change on a mercurial whim. Get a headache if I think about it too long.
Connor turns back and looks down on the field, eyes narrowed, thoughts churning. There is always so much going on behind those eyes...Darla's eyes. Always loved those eyes, just not the woman who owned them...not going there either. Don't want to think about her, but Connor keeps her fresh...not today, think about your son. Connor is seeing the game in a whole new light as she explains the strategy involved. Ever the warrior, he watches intently as the men below tangle and the crunch of impact drifts up like music. Meet his eyes and we share a private smile. Makes me feel...I don't know, like a father again. Thought I'd lost that.
Cordy is unhappy with the action ands is pulling a face. For someone with some of the cutest features I've ever seen on a woman she can make some of the most unflattering expressions. Uh oh, caught staring. Can't look away, that would make me seem guilty...er. Stare back, yeah. What are you going to do about it Cor?
Oh, she's mature. Sometimes forget she's only 21. Want to suck that tongue into my mouth and teach it a lesson. I need to know if her mouth is as hot as she looks. Dammit! If that guy pokes me one more time...I'm gonna suck him dry.
Gunn is taunting Cordy. Wish I had that...ease, that I could share that with them. I really don't care who wins. Maybe if I could eat the losers? Take another look at the field, imagine the game with those kinds of stakes. Might be interesting, ha...and take the pads off...pussy's
They get millions to prance around and pat each others assi. Fuck. I'm in the wrong business. No, not a business, can't think like that. I've killed more people than everyone that is down on that field. Can't take that back. Don't want to feel sorry for it, fucking soul...hate it.
Cordy twists around to say something to Gunn. I don't listen because her breast is pressing against my shoulder and suddenly I am wearing too many clothes. She pats my hand and gives me a smile, all mine. I'll give you one back cutie. Turns back to Connor and I am jealous. Don't like to fight for her attention. Hoping she will have some more trash talk for Gunn I take off my jacket. She looks over to see why I am suddenly squirming and I want to smile again as her eyes drop from my face to my chest and *linger*.
She bought the shirt and it looks damn good on me. We both know it. Like what you see little girl? Let me pull your head down and give you something to do with those shiny red lips. No, no and NO! Too many fantasies, dreams, wants. She makes me want...hate her for it...love her more. Want to eat her. Mmmm, baby, how would you taste. Stop! Football game, big sweaty men who pat each others behinds...OK.
All right! Turn to the guy next to me. He's fat, sweaty and smells like fast food and beer. put the nachos down pal and back away slowly. Hear the labored draw of blood in his clogged veins. Jesus, I give him six months before he see's the inside of an ambulance. You see this face? that's right buddy I'm pissed. "Go on a diet before your heart explodes and fucking stop touching me!"
Uh...think I said that last part out loud. He's moving fast for a whale, and I can practically feel Cordy's eyes boring through the back of my head. She ought to try being locked in a box for four months and see if she can remember to keep her internal monologue's strait. I'm doing fine, thank you very fucking much...
"Angel, remember the talk we had before we came?"
I hate that tone of voice, and she knows it. Don't want to look. If I don't look she's not really there. Ow! Why does she have to do that? I don't flick her ears. Ow, OK...! Give her the look, and she's laughing. Knows me to damn well...bitch.
Fred's snorting. Bitch in training. Reminds me of Kathy, has that same innocence, same energy. Want to pull her in my lap and stroke her hair. Don't think anyone but me would get it, so when I feel like that I buy her ice cream, offer her my elbow like the chivalrous gentleman I never was...love her smile.
Cordy's still watching me...wants to know what I am thinking. I won't tell if you won't. Pretend the seat is uncomfortable, shift, drape my arm over the back of hers. I sigh, take in her scent and hold it as close to my heart as I can.
Now she's giving me that soft Mona Lisa smile, eyes a bit bright and I wonder how I could think that Fred's smile was beautiful...but it is. It's just that Cordy, looking at me so...there isn't a word in human language that can begin to describe it.
Her attention is back on the field. She leans forward, makes a disgusted noise when her team fumbles the ball, then sits back in a huff. She's closer, shoulder nestled into my side, hand on the rest between us, fingers rolling the leather of my coat. We are not snuggling. We are not nervous. We are NOT going to go there.
Fuck, I am past *there*, way past. Can't help wanting to touch her, wanting to push it, push those legs open. I bet she can still do the splits. I want to bend her like a pretzel, put those legs behind her ears. Touched her shoulder, tell myself it's accidental as I slide my thumb across the curve of her arm. Feel her quiver, but she won't look my way...If she's not looking then you're not *really* doing that to her heartbeat.
Connor's on his feet yelling as Cordy's team finally scores. He catches on quick. Cor is on her feet too, but a little slower. She smells like hot dogs. The sound is deafening, don't know how Connor can stand it. It pounds into my head as I bring my arm down. I don't want to push my luck...luck...riiight. What's that?
It's so bright that the field below looks washed out, men move in a grainy flash-lit haze. I'm about to loose it. Cordy's arm slides atop mine, fingers tapping my wrist. She turns, talks to Connor, then twists further around to speak to Fred. Laughs. Throws her head back and lets it go. I can't laugh like that anymore. Her ponytail brushes my neck. She says something to Gunn, bouncing up and down in her seat, shaking her shoulders.
Gunn gives her the finger as he scratches his head. Connor is frowning. He knows it means a bad word, at least now he does. He was raised by Holtz, and I am sure he considers Gunn's behavior crass and unbecoming towards a lady. Hasn't been around Cordy enough to know the meaning of the word...she can be like that on occasion. Got to remember she has faults...can't put her up anywhere that she can fall from...Not making that mistake twice, no sir.
She turns back, touches me again...another quirk, she is never still. Want to hold her to me and just make her stop and be silent...It would be torture for her. One of these days I think I'm just going to do it...see how long she lasts.
OK, ow again! Those slim pretty hands of hers are clawed, nails digging in. Look closer. Her eyes are twitching, and she's mumbling...no, not here...vision. NOW? Can we not even fucking enjoy a football game? I am so glad Cor finally got the chance to punch those bastards in the nose. I'm about ready to tear down the heavens myself. I can't ever have peace of mind, and I have accepted that, but a night off wouldn't kill them.
I tap Connor's shoulder. "You'll be OK, for a minute?"
He nods, eyes still riveted to the game below. "Get me if you need help."
I nod back. At times I am glad we are so much alike. Being taciturn cuts down on a lot of unnecessary bull shit. I grab Cordy's elbow and drag her up the stairs. She follows blindly, still in the throws of her vision. At least she's not hollering and carrying on, forgetting where she is. I am glad she no longer feels pain, still feel guilty...she gets so lost sometimes. Hate that she goes through this for me.
Still don't understand why she is willing. I mean I do, I get that she likes helping people, being purposeful and all. She feels the weight of her past sins almost as heavily as I do, but being a bitch in high school hardly compares. I caused more carnage and heartbreak in a week than she could have in her entire eighteen years. Not proud...not proud, just the facts ma'am.
Ah, blessed darkness. The pretzels smell good, not as good as the teenager with the bleached hair. Might have to get one later...pretzel. I could share with Cordy, feed it to her...let her suck the salt off my fingers. Got to fuck her soon. No...it would be love...can't have her, because I'd loose me.
She's starting to come out of it. Not to many places to go...oh, a cleaning closet. That's more like it, all those distracting heartbeats muffled, except the one. "Cordy, what did you see?" Touch her cheek, but not too long. She shivers.
Voice is hoarse, maybe she was screaming in her mind. "Demon, down on the field. Damn! Couldn't we have just one night?"
Had to chuckle at that. Draw her to me and give her a hug. She lays her head down on my chest. She's breathing me in...that touches something deep, basic...we never talked, but I'm guessing she has it just as bad as me. Hey, Cor, want to get dirty in the cleaning closet? And she says I have no sense of humor.
She's ready to pull back, but I don't let her go, not this time. I want to hold this moment. She starts talking, all business except for the jackrabbit sound of her pulse.
"It's just one demon, but you'll have to get down there pretty soon."
"Where?" Yeah, I've *still* got you. We're going to have to have that talk pretty soon. Feel her smile...
"Down by the cheerleaders. If you don't stop it..." She shrugs. "Let's just say the male football loving population will be deprived of a lot of wet dream material."
Look down in her eyes. Love that smirk of hers...love *her*. Try and look stern, but can't quite stop looking at her lips. Look in her eyes and see it. I can't feel this, don't deserve that look. Think about another face, any one will do, bloodied up in a dark alley...anything but her. Let her go..you are my wet dream, my only dream. You and my son. Have to talk with the powers. It won't be sex this time, and I am going crazy trying to toe the line.
"I didn't bring a weapon." As if the powers really care. She only punches my shoulder.
"I thought you were the weapon...don't you come fully equipped?"
Ok, that got a raised brow from me and now she's blushing. Want to follow the red with my lips as it creeps up her neck. She's starting to stutter. Good! I hate it when she makes me do that.
"I uh, you know with the fangs and the 'grr' strength...not like Darla or the furies...cause that was NOT in my vision...oh, god...shutting up now."
Let her off the hook. "I get it." Roll my eyes and chuck her shoulder playfully. Her eyebrows shoot up and she makes a shooing motion.
"Go. Tick tock, the quicker you kill it, the quicker you can get back and spend quality time with your son."
I agree. That hellbeast is *so* dead. I intend to be back before the fourth quarter starts. I turn, open the door, get a step out when I feel her hook a finger around my pinky. I freeze, a slave to her touch...not sure what she wants though.
She steps close, hand smoothing over the material covering my chest. Her eyes crinkle, and I stifle a gasp as I feel her thumb slide over my nipple. "Be careful...and don't ruin the shirt."
Wonder if she is using the shirt as an excuse to cop a feel...it's a nice shirt...I grab her hand, trapping it against me. Run her palm over muscle until it rests over my heart. She's not the only one that knows how to tease. Lean forward, pop that personal bubble..."I promise."
See her lick her lips, smell her...mission accomplished. I leave, because I don't want anyone to die because I was flirting with my girl. Turn, walking backwards, see her leaning against the door frame. "Hey Cor, Do you want me to bring back a pretzel?"
End.