just fic


Title: An Angel Wedding
Author: Syn
Posted: October, 2003
Email: veruca_werewolf@hotmail.com
Rating: R
Category:
Content: Angel/Cordelia, Faith/Wesley, Fred/Gunn, Connor/Vi
Summary: Fred and Gunn are getting married. Eventually.
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes: Just to remind ya'll, this story is AU after Calvary. So basically I'm screwing with continuity. Okay, Jasmine did manifest and everything, but Cordelia woke up and they killed Jasmine and Connor didn't go all screwy and they don't work for Wolfram & Hart. As far as the Buffy storyline goes, everything happened the way it happened, even the infamous cookie dough speech, though it has no relevance here. lol Er...yeah. This is the sequel to Armadillos & Salsa. Just in case you didn't know.
Feedback: A wedding bouquet to anyone who throws rice..er...feedback at me.
Thanks/Dedication:


Part 1: Cruel Summer and the Need of Eight

Altadena, California

"I definitely didn't miss this." Charles Gunn said as he spat out a mouthful of neon green demon blood and squinted through a glob of flesh covering the right side of his face. His clothing was covered in the muck and, figuring it was already a lost cause, he lifted the edge of his shirt and wiped his face clean, the flesh glooping onto the parched, sparse grass.

"Wimp." Faith shot at him, grinning through a wild tumble of curls. She didn't have a speck of dirt on her. Hell, she wasn't even winded. "So, boss man, what's the plan?"

Her attention turned to Angel, who was busy looking around the side of the metal tool shed they were using for cover. His favorite broadsword was coated in demon gore, the icky bits dripping over his fingers. He didn't seem to notice it though as he turned his twisted, vampiric face in her direction.

"Oh, now you're asking me?"

"I figured I oughtta try that whole taking orders thing. I didn't want to get you all pissy again." Faith said, referring to her earlier "fight now/ask questions later" move.

"I wasn't all pissy!" Angel hissed back at her as she smiled wider.

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Are you two eight-years-old? There's a family trapped in that house by a bunch of demons! Save it for later!"

Angel and Faith's attention snapped to the speaker, eyebrows rising. Connor, with equally gore-covered ax, clothing and skin, was staring at them in exasperation, looking like he was two seconds from putting his hands on his hips and "pfffting" at them. Angel was forcibly reminded of Cordelia.

Obviously Faith and Gunn thought so too.

"Okay Cordy." They said in unison and glanced at each other, lips twitching. Connor scowled and swiped at the back of Gunn's head. He knew better to try it on Faith though.

"He's right. Argue amicably later. Okay, now you two..."

"Charge in, guns blazing." Faith finished for Angel and then hefted her crossbow with a devilish grin. Before the others could react, she sprang forward, twisting around the side of the tool shed and into the open.

There was a gurgling rumble and the sound of a trigger being clicked, then the whiz of an arrow through the air. Angel and Connor both leapt into action a moment later, sword and ax, respectively, swinging and chopping.

Gunn, being only human, followed behind, managing to snag of the demons as it jumped off the roof of the modest ranch style house and pin it to the ground with his boot. He didn't know the name of the species, but he didn't much care. It was ugly though, its mouth a sucking hole with an impossibly long, slippery yellow tongue that forked the air. It had agile, sucker-like fingers and its feet squelched as it walked. He was forcibly reminded of The Creature from the Black Lagoon and it wasn't a pleasant reminder at all.

Inside, he could hear the family screaming and he wished they would shut up. Of course, they'd probably never seen a demon before, so he could cut them a little slack. At least they'd called the agency and hadn't tried to take the demons on themselves. It was also a good thing the demons were too stupid to figure out how to get into the house or there would have been a massacre.

The demon he'd snagged with his ax thrashed on the ground, hitting him with one of its long, flailing suckers. It snagged on his skin and he had the most peculiar feeling, like when Fred would give him a hickey...

Creeped out, he twisted the ax sideways, slicing clean through the long suckery phalange. More neon green blood sprayed and he avoided it by swooping his head sideways. The demon screamed a wet gurgle and thrashed its limbs at him, attempting to get up. His boot dug into the thing's chest and he brought the ax down again. It whistled smoothly through the air and there was a sound like an apple being bitten. The head came free and the demon was still.

Gunn looked up just in time to see Connor do a back flip, kicking a demon in the face, his lithe body twisting in mid-air so that he came down on his feet. The demon reeled and Connor, not missing a beat, twisted his ax up, neatly slicing the demon open from its crotch to its stunted snout. Blood squirted far and wide, hitting Connor and coating him in the disgusting glop.

Beside him, Angel and Faith, working in concert, backed the last demon, a scrawny one with a terrified expression on its face, into the metal tool shed. Glancing at each other, they both threw their weapons at the demon; Faith's arrow going bull's eye into the demon's open mouth and Angel's sword neatly lodging into its chest. The demon gurgled, quivered, the metal shed twanging with the vibrations of the sword and arrow. It was still a moment later, leaving the four of them standing in the yard with light from the back porch flooding the scene.

Gunn surveyed the damage. Ten demons dead. They'd killed four in the fist wave and six in the past two minutes. Not bad. And none of them were hurt.

"That's it?" Faith asked, as if offended.

"Yeah...that was kinda weak. And easy." Gunn said, glancing at the house. He saw the father peering through the window on the backdoor, his eyes round saucers in his dark face. He motioned for them to come out, knowing the explanation was going to be messy.

"Are...are they dead?" Mr. Alfonso Fulton of Altadena, California said as he walked cautiously into his backyard. His wife and daughter came after him, staring in horror at the splattered, dismembered demons in his yard and the one pinioned like a moth in an insect collection on his shed.

"Dead as shit. We get paid now right?" Faith said bluntly, glancing impatiently at Angel, who had already shifted out of vamp mode to avoid a scene. He steadfastly ignored her and walked forward.

"Yes, they're dead Mr. Fulton."

"What...what are they?" Mrs. Fulton asked, her hands at her throat. Her daughter, her dark eyes wide in fright but her mouth twisted in grim fascination, walked past her and circled one of the downed demons.

"Demon. Not sure of the species though." Angel said uncomfortably.

"Species? There are different kinds?"

"Oh yeah. You got your man-eaters, your gentle ones, your...karaoke lovers...demons come in all forms. Kinda like humans." Gunn supplied with a grin as Mr. Fulton turned his attention on him.

"Oh. Will there be any more?" He sounded almost panicked.

"There might be. Your property is abutted to this arroyo, which where they likely came from. There aren't many demons in the suburbs, though there are some. These guys...they smell like nature. A fishy smell, almost. I don't think they're from around here."

"You can smell that? I can't..." Mrs. Fulton said, sniffing as if to test the theory.

"Well...I..." Angel stammered, glancing at Connor, who was watching Fulton's daughter with interest. Gunn's eyebrow rose as he saw Connor shift in place and wipe self-consciously at the demon goo on his clothing and face.

"So, if they're not from around here, why did they show up?" Fulton's daughter asked, lifting her head and blinking in the light from the porch.

"Might be a couple of reasons. I'll...have my research team look into it, including what species it is. If you should have any problems, you have our card. Don't hesitate to call day or night." Angel said, retrieving his sword from the demon on the shed with a quick jerk. Mrs. Fulton flinched as the body sagged on the arrow still in its throat.

"Now...about that money?" Faith said as Angel shot her a dirty look once more.

"Oh yes...I'll get my checkbook..."

As Mr. Fulton disappeared inside, Angel motioned for them to start the cleanup. Gunn snapped his fingers to get Connor's attention as Faith and Angel grabbed a demon each and started hauling them toward his truck. Connor tore his eyes away from Fulton's daughter and grabbed a demon. He tried to balance his ax and the demon at the same time and ended up dropping both of them.

Fulton's daughter rushed forward, picking up his ax with a shy grin.

"Need some help?"

"Uh...uh..." Connor stammered, swallowing hard.

"Kiyo! Don't touch it! It could be poisonous! Get in the house right now...before another one of those things shows up!" Mrs. Fulton yelped. Kiyo blushed in the darkness and handed the ax back to Connor then, with a smile, headed back into the house. Connor watched her go with a strange expression on his face.

He was still standing there when Faith came sauntering back from the truck. As she passed, she shot at him, "Fantasize later, Lil' Romeo. Haul dead demon ass now."

Connor blinked and shot her an annoyed glare, but Faith ignored him and picked up another demon with ease. Gunn smiled and grabbed a demon of his own. What he wouldn't give to be that young again.

****

With the last demon piled high in the bed of his truck, a tarp hiding the neon green blood and body parts, Gunn perched wearily on the tailgate, his arms aching. He glanced at the scrawny Black Lagoon demons and furrowed his brow. This was the third demon attack they'd had in a week, which was much more than usual. All three cases had been seemingly random and violent. At least no one had gotten hurt this time.

"Alright, we ready?" Angel asked, sliding Fulton's check into the pocket of his leather duster and looking up at them. Connor frowned and peered over his father's shoulder at the house. The family was nowhere to be seen and Gunn guessed they were probably hiding and bolting all their windows shut. He couldn't blame them.

"Sure. We get money?" Faith said, reaching for Angel's coat pocket. He slapped her hand away.

"Why are you so gung-ho for money all of a sudden?"

"I'm used to paying in cigarettes, Soul Boy. Money in my hand is kind of a shock. I like shock. Shock feels good. Shock buys ribs afterward." Faith said, piling her hair on the top of her head and fanning at the back of her neck.

The air, even with the sun down, was blistering hot. It had been like this ever since they'd gotten back from Texas. Now here it was, two months later and the weather wasn't any closer to cooling down and giving them a respite. The whole city was suffering under the hot temperatures. It seemed to be driving the demons crazy and the people of Los Angeles too. There'd been more random fighting and brawls than any of them could count. They'd been busy the past two months, but they'd been ready for it. Texas had helped a lot.

"Yeah, but you gotta learn some tact on the whole paying thing. You can't just lay it on 'em." Gunn said as Faith turned her attention on him.

"Why? When they're upset and thankful you've just saved them from some Jeepers Creepers, that's when you hit up for the phat cash. How do you think I paid for shit in my younger days?"

"You charged? Huh. Buffy never charged." Angel mused as he tossed his freshly wiped sword into the trunk of his car.

"Yes. And we see how poor B is. She's in Cleveland right now, practically living in a box with Dawn. I've seen it. It ain't pretty."

"Your morals...kinda not there, huh?" Gunn said, smirking at her. Faith rolled her eyes and climbed into the passenger's seat of Angel's car. "I take it Junior Champion and I are on burial duty again?"

"Well, you do have a style I admire." Angel commented, swinging into the driver's seat.

"Yeah, right."

"See you guys back at the hotel?" Angel called, starting the Plymouth with a rumble.

"Not me. Fred's still stressing over decorations. If I'm not there before midnight, she's going to explode and write all over our walls." Gunn said with a fond grin.

"Isn't Dennis helping her out?" Angel asked, tilting his head in interest.

"Stressing her out is more like it. He loves the blue decorations and she likes the violet, so its a big mess and there's crepe paper all over. It ain't pretty." Gunn said, swinging into the cab of his truck as Connor did the same. "I don't think he's quite forgiven her for trying to rent the apartment to someone else after Cordy--well..."

Angel nodded.

Gunn and Fred now lived in Cordelia's old apartment, since living in the hotel was pretty much not an option for a soon-to-be-married couple and they needed some place cheap. Phantom Dennis, still bitter and missing Cordelia, had scared off other renters and the apartment was empty until a month ago, when Fred and Gunn had moved in. Dennis was still slightly bitter about the whole thing, but as long as Cordy dropped by once a week, he kept the whole 'pissed off ghost' thing to a dull roar.

Cordelia herself now lived in the hotel. In Angel's suite to be exact.

Even with Fred and Gunn out of the hotel, it was still rather crowded (well, as crowded a sixty-room hotel could be). Faith, Connor and Lorne still lived there, though Faith was away at Wesley's most of the time. Angel never said it, but Gunn knew he was more than glad to have them all there.

"Can we go now?" Faith said, her feet on the dashboard of Angel's car. He shot her a venomous glance and waved at Connor and Gunn.

"Be home before dawn, Connor!" He yelled to his son, who glanced up and and half-waved at his father. Angel tore out of the Fulton's driveway and disappeared down the street. Gunn threw the truck into drive and peeled out too, watching Connor as he peered out the window at the Fulton's house. He looked glum and slightly furious.

They went a few blocks in the direction of the Angeles National Forest before Gunn couldn't take the silence anymore.

"She was cute, wasn't she?"

Connor jumped slightly. "What?"

"Kiyo. Pretty hot little mama, huh?"

"Oh...um...she was okay."

Gunn nodded knowingly. "Why didn't you ask her out?"

"What?"

"You know, get her digits, call her up, make a date, watch a movie, hold hands...other stuff...?"

"I'm not interested." Connor said, sounding flustered.

"Right." Gunn was anything but convinced.

"Well I'm not!"

"Why not? She's cute."

"Did you see her?" Connor scoffed. "She was...gorgeous and I was all...covered in demon goo!" Connor said, completely forgetting that he wasn't supposed to care.

"She was flirting with you, bro." Gunn said, turning onto an access road he knew quite well.

"No she wasn't. She was just being nice cuz I'm a big spaz." Connor said, kicking at the dashboard with his boots.

"Yeah, you are a big spaz." Gunn said with a playful sigh. "But you've got that whole rebel-without-a-cause thing going for you. Chicks dig that."

"Which ones? And where are they all hiding?" Connor intoned bitterly, leaning his head back against the seat, a strand of his short brown hair falling over his cheek. Gunn punched his shoulder slightly, shaking him out of his reverie.

"Connor? Don't worry so much about girls, okay? You're gonna find one who is going to knock your socks off. Trust me."

"Somehow, I doubt it."

"Whatever, man. You wait. Tomorrow you're gonna find someone. Okay, maybe not tomorrow, but maybe the next day. Or the day after that, or--"

"The day after infinity?"

"Smartass."

Connor smiled slightly and Gunn nodded his head, content to drop the subject. Who knew Connor could be so cool and...likeable? Things had definitely turned out for the better after that whole Jasmine thing. He definitely felt like Connor was his younger brother and he was more than happy to give him advice where his father would have been embarrassed. Connor appreciated it too, he could tell.

Soon he pulled the truck to a stop in a well-secluded clearing that he knew for a fact was full of dead demon bodies rotting underground. This is where they got rid of the bodies too numerous to burn in the hotel's incinerator. They both jumped out and started in on hiding the evidence of the demons.

"Question?"

"Yo?"

"Why are we the ones who always get the dirty jobs?" Connor groused, taking out a shovel and picking out a spot where the earth looked undisturbed.

"We're the muscle, Con. You learn to get used to it." Gunn said, the back of his neck starting to itch all of a sudden. He felt something hot breathing down his spine and he swallowed hard. He felt a sudden surge of anger come over him.

"Great." Connor mumbled, shoveling hard, his hair over his face. Gunn scowled at him. "Well you might like it but I--"

"SHUT UP!" Gunn burst out, his teeth gritted. Connor's attention snapped up to him in surprise. Gunn's hands turned to fists at his side and he dropped his shovel onto the hard ground.

"Gunn? What's the matter?"

"I'm tired of hearing you bitch is what's the matter!" Gunn snarled and then suddenly, the anger faded and he felt slightly dizzy. He shook his head, swallowing hard. Connor was still standing there, slightly stunned.

"I'll stop bitching, okay?" Connor said, slightly miffed.

"Connor...um...sorry. It's just...been a long day? I guess." Gunn said, clutching his head. He really wasn't sure where the hell that outburst had come from. One moment he'd been joking around and the next...

He shook his head and thought it must be the heat getting to him. That and the pressures of the impending wedding. That must be it.

"Its okay, man. Let's just get this done, alright?" Connor said, warily looking at him.

Gunn nodded, picked up his shovel and began to dig. The incident soon slipped out of his mind.

****

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce laid his head down on the open book before him, tired, eyes itchy from staring at the tiny writing of the huge book beneath his stubble-roughened cheek. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and tried to calm his mind.

Ancient words and phrases were spinning across his eyelids, seeping into his thought-process and distracting him. His head was too busy for him to think properly. Lifting his head, he slid his glasses off and tossed them onto the book with a soft clatter.

The translation was going to have to wait until his mind was clearer. Otherwise, everything was going to be a jumble of non-linear thoughts and half-guesses.

He leaned back in the chair, wood creaking, and his hands behind his head, rumpled, and gelled hair poking into his palms. From here he could see out into the park across the street from his apartment building. Old memories flitted across his memory and he untangled his hands to bring his index finger across the scar on his throat.

He looked away from the park and down at the street below just as a familiar convertible pulled up to the curb and let out a curvy women Wesley knew all too well.

Excitement surged in his belly as he managed a crooked, smug smile. His thoughts turned toward the night before and he felt a small pang in his chest.

They'd fought again. Though he couldn't say what about. She'd been ready to leave, her hair matted with sweat, lips swollen, skin flushed. He'd wanted her to stay, even though he couldn't quite bring himself to say it out loud. They'd just stared at one another for what seemed like ages and then she'd walked off.

And today at the hotel, she hadn't even looked at him. Had barely said hello. It had been gnawing on him all day and was probably the reason he'd thrown himself into translating the big book as hard as he had. No one really needed the translation, but he'd needed some sort of distraction. Anything to make the accusation and blatant warning in her eyes go away.

Now here she was, walking up to his apartment, to him and he couldn't help the excitement that filled him.

Her knock on the door was anything but hesitant. Nothing about Faith ever was, after all.

Wesley got up, almost lazily, and strolled to the door. It opened under his hand and swung toward him.

"Hey." Faith said, leaning on his doorframe, wild brown curls tumbling around her face, lips red, and eyes dark and smoky. She looked him over and managed a smile.

"Hi. Didn't think I'd see you tonight." He answered in kind, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Her eyes devoured him suddenly, moving over every inch of his body like he was some sinful food she hungered for.

"Me neither."

"How was the mission?"

"You know, same old, same old. I got to kill something."

"I'm sure that made your day."

"Not really." Faith shrugged, moving forward into his apartment so he could close the door. It slammed with a damning bang.

"Why not?"

"No reason." She said, grabbing his shirt in her fist suddenly, drawing him close. She buried her head in the joint of his shoulder and neck, breathing deeply. Wesley hissed, but kept his cool.

"I...missed you today." He said, not sure how that would sound to her. She nuzzled his neck.

"I know." She said, sliding her lips up to his. Wesley kissed her, hesitant at first, then deepening into a hungry, soul-sucking, mind-numbing kiss that made everything inside of him tremble and shake. He didn't show it though, as he twisted her hair in his fingers and pulled his face away.

"Stay tonight?"

A shadow flitted over her face. "We'll see."

That was all Wesley needed, as she pulled him toward the bedroom. The past day melted away, the after-burn of the book escaping his mind as Faith pushed him down. Wesley smiled.

It just felt right.

****

Cordelia Chase was too fucking busy to worry about time. Time was what killed a person. Time put wrinkles on your face and made your boobs sag. Time took all things and twisted them, made them young, old, and flew right by you if you didn't pay attention.

Above all things though, time was crap.

She'd learned that in the Higher Realms as one of her first lessons. Up there, she'd had more time than she could comprehend and the ability to go back as far as she wanted, or as far ahead as she wanted. It was relative. A big loop of infinity that she'd always taken for granted. Even up there.

Maybe that was why she'd made such a lousy Higher Being. She didn't respect time or the job. Of course she was never meant to be a Higher Being anyway, so it was no surprise that she hadn't "assimilated" like some Borg freak. Resistance was not futile.

Angel had taught her that.

But back to the matter at hand. Time.

It had slowly slipped away from her the past few hours. Her neck hurt and she didn't remember when it had started. Her eyes were tired and she rubbed them with perfectly manicured fingers, smearing makeup and not much caring. The huge stack of files before her didn't appear to be any smaller than when she'd started either.

Cordelia frowned and glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight. She'd been tackling the filing system for the past six hours and hadn't even noticed how much time had passed.

She cursed time, the filing and the fact that her butt was numb. Standing up, she stretched one muscle at a time, rolling her shoulders and hearing a pop-pop-pop noise as her spine made itself known. She sagged, limp and exhausted, just as the front door of the hotel opened. She peeked through the window of the office to see who it was.

"Cordelia?" Angel called, slinging his coat off and looking around the mostly dark lobby. Cordelia smiled and watched him for a split-second, seeing the demon blood on him and assorted weapons in his hands. "Baby, you down here?"

"I'm in here!" She called, running nervous fingers through her hair. She bit her lip and waited by the door. Angel came in and she immediately attacked him.

"Hey! Hey!" Angel exclaimed between kisses. "Holding sharp objects here."

"Sorry." Cordelia said, backing off a little as he tossed the weapons onto the small couch beneath the office window. "Now may I maul you with kisses?"

"Proceed."

Cordelia immediately jumped into his arms, arms around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. He held her against him as she kissed him, glaring between each smooch and trying to make him realize he wasn't going to get off so easily for not calling her.

"You," kiss "didn't," kiss "call me." Kiss. "I was," Kiss. "worried!" She said, inches from his mouth.

"I was busy, sorry." he said, sitting down at his desk, the wooden swivel chair Cordelia had abandoned groaning under their combined weight.

"Oh, did we get paid?" She said, reaching into his pockets excitedly. He slapped her fingers away and nuzzled her neck, nipping slightly with his teeth.

"You sound like Faith."

"Huh?" Cordelia asked, still searching for the check and trying to ignore the way Angel was playing with her bra strap.

"She's all gung-ho about getting paid now. I think you're both rubbing off on each other."

"Please. The day anything of Faith's rubs off on me, I'm...well it'll never happen!" Cordy said, glaring in a most Faith-like way. Angel stifled a chuckle and kissed her on the forehead.

"And what did you do tonight?"

"Filing. What did Fred do to my system while I was gone?" She exclaimed, pulling back with a aggravated look on her face.

Angel's heart sank. "She alphabetized them."

"No she didn't! She put them in a weird order! The rich clients are all scattered out now! I found David Nabbit in the N's! What's up with that? Everyone knows he goes in the B drawer!"

"B?"

"Billionaire? Hello?" She said, throwing up her hands in annoyance.

"Oh well...you'll have to have a talk with her then. Leave me out of it."

"Nah. I think I'll let it slide. She's got enough on her plate right now with the whole wedding thing. Which reminds me, the fittings are tomorrow at noon, so I need you up. I hate waking you in the afternoon. You're so cranky."

"Fittings?"

"For the tuxedos? And the dresses?"

"Oh...right." Angel nodded, slightly distracted. His thoughts turned to the wedding at hand. It was all anyone could talk about lately. Angel, however, found it a bit overwhelming. He was glad he wasn't Gunn and that he could go wherever Cordelia pointed.

He wasn't a big wedding guy, after all. He'd avoided the very thought of marriage when he was a human and as Angelus, he'd made it a point to eat both bride and groom whenever he came across a wedding party. It just wasn't his thing. Besides, he could see the look in Cordelia's eyes...the longing...the Bridal magazines stashed under her side of the bed.

He couldn't give her what Gunn could give Fred. It hurt him to think of it and he quickly lowered his eyes from hers.

"You there?" Cordelia said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I asked you where everyone else was and you spaced."

"Oh...uh...Connor and Gunn are on burial patrol duty. I dropped Faith at Wes's and...I think Lorne said he had a reading in San Diego with a rich client. He's not going to be here until tomorrow morning, I think.

"Well he better get here before noon or he's going to suffer my wrath." Cordelia said, flustered.

"I'll call him in the morning to make sure."

Cordelia smiled mischievously and let her fingers walk up the soft silk of Angel's dark blue shirt. Angel watched them with interest.

"You know...everyone is out of the hotel. We could...be as loud as we want..." Her voice trailed off for a moment and she parted her lips artfully.

"I don't know...I thought we had to get up early...you know how you complain about lack of sleep. Bags under your eyes..."

"Fine. If you don't want to..." Cordelia said, starting to get up. Angel grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down for another scorching kiss. She melted against him, legs going around his middle once more. With one smooth motion, he stood up, carrying her with him.

Cordelia flipped off the lights to the office with her flailing hand and held on as Angel carried her upstairs to their bedroom. She soon forgot about filing and the wedding. All she had in her head was Angel. And he was all that mattered.

****

"DENNIS!" Fred screeched for what seemed like the millionth time that night as the lavender crepe paper was unraveled and thrown across the room in a bright explosion of color. "What did I tell you!? We're not using the blue! We decided on lavender!"

In response, the stacked boxes of white Christmas lights were knocked off the table and there was a sound suspiciously like someone blowing a raspberry.

"FINE! I'm calling an exorcist!" She yelled, reaching for the phone book. She waited a split second, then watched as the Christmas lights were stacked back into place and the crepe paper was gathered up and rolled again. "Thank you! Now would you please stop acting like...like..."

"A ghost?"

Fred whirled around, startled for a second. Then she saw Gunn, his smile wide, face slightly smudged with dirt and demon goo.

"Charles! You scared me!"

"Sorry, babe." He looked around the living room of their new apartment and Cordelia's old one, seeing the crepe paper, lights, fake flowers and candles. "You two still fighting?"

"No. We're having a slight disagreement."

"Still likes the baby blue, huh?"

"Yes. And he won't let it go that I gave it a thumbs down."

"Well, cut the guy some slack. He's dead. And he's just trying to help."

"I know, Charles. I'm just stressed. And I keep getting mad for no reason at all. I threw a plate today for no reason. Just picked it up and threw it!" Fred said, coming up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. He patted her shoulder, brow furrowed. "I'm definitely stressed."

"Yeah, me too. I yelled at Connor out of nowhere earlier. He didn't even do anything." Gunn said, his stomach flip-flopping a little.

"Well, we've got another two weeks before we're stress free. We both just need...morphine or something." Fred grumbled good-naturedly, noticing the dry crackle of demon goo against her cheek. "I'm guessing the Altadena job went well?"

"Yeah. Killed em all real good." Gunn said proudly, shoving away the uncomfortable feeling and pulling away from his fiancé. "Get anything done today?"

"Not really, thanks a lot Dennis. Mom called though."

"Oh really?" Gunn said, smiling fondly.

"Yup. They're comin' in the day before the wedding, so we have to be at LAX to meet them."

"What time?"

"Four, I think. I wrote it down somewhere." Fred said, gesturing to the huge mess near the phone. They were really going to have get this place organized before Roger and Trish got there. "Oh and a little something that'll make you happy--Grayson isn't coming."

"Why not?" Gunn said, unable to hide the grin on his face.

"Not sure. He begged off, said he had a thing with some girl he was seein'. Kari something." Fred said with a shrug. "I don't know, wasn't paying much attention."

"Well, good." Gunn said, rather glad that weight was now off his shoulders. "That's one less asshole I have to feed at my wedding."

"Charles..." Fred said in mock warning.

"Sorry, sorry." He said, throwing up his hands. She grinned up at him and reached up to wipe dirt from his nose.

"You're a mess." Fred said, picking up a box of candles from where Dennis had knocked them onto the floor.

"I know. Maybe I should shower?"

"That would be a good idea."

"Maybe you should help me?" Gunn asked, hopefully, lifting an eyebrow at her, lips curling over his white teeth. Fred giggled and tilted her mouth up toward his.

"Maybe..." She said, even as she threw down the box of candles and he dipped his head down to her mouth. Slowly, he moved her backward, tripping over boxes they had yet to unpack and other objects he didn't take the time to glance at.

Fred held him close and, as she helped him out of his dirty clothing, all he could do was smile.

She was going to marry him. And she couldn't wait.

****

Faith rolled over, Wesley a big, sweaty wall against her back. It was too hot in his bedroom. Too hot in her chest. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as he groped for her in his sleep.

His hand closed over her hip possessively and she felt like a caged animal all of a sudden. He had her, completely totally and that scared the hell out of her. She'd promised him she'd stay the night. She wouldn't get up like she always did and sneak off before he could wake and find her gone.

That was what they'd fought about last night. He'd wanted her to stay. She couldn't...just couldn't and he'd looked her at her, wanting her to say she'd stay, to climb back in that bed of his and sleep next to him and wake up and eat eggs and shower together and watch TV together and she so wanted that but she COULDN'T do it.

But he hadn't asked last night. He knew better, or at least she thought he did. Until tonight, when he'd looked at her, a man drowning and had asked, her, point-blank to stay. She'd said, "We'll see." and he taken it as a yes. Her non-committal responses were always a yes to him. He could make her do anything, really.

But not tonight.

She couldn't take it. Couldn't take feeling him next to her, his hands on her like she belonged to him, like the only thing in the world he needed was her.

There was something wrong with that, she thought. No one ever needed her. WANTED her, yes. But needed her? Never. Men always took what they wanted--with the exception of Robin and Lord knew she just couldn't see herself in any long-term relationship with him. He was just way too sweet for someone like her. She'd have him ruined in a week.

Wesley though...Wesley craved her. She could taste the craving in his mouth, see it in his eyes. He needed her.

That scared the hell out of her. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to act like that to her. He was supposed to use her like everyone else did and leave it at that. But he was trying to get deeper, to burrow into her chest and grab her heart in his hands. His fingers were tickling it, making her squirm uncomfortably and move back ever so slightly.

Back in Texas, all she'd been thinking of was well, getting him in bed. She liked him, sure. Wanted him, yes. But she hadn't meant it to be more than that.

At least that's what she told herself.

But no, things had changed. And she was fighting that change every second she was with him.

"Faith..." Wesley mumbled next to her, his nose pressed to the hollow below her ear. She shifted in the bed, turning to face him. His breath was cool on her flushed skin.

"Yeah, Wes?"

"Stay." He said, his eyes slits in his head. Moonlight flooded in through the window, making his blue eyes bluer and his skin glow faintly.

"I..."

"I can feel you. You're restless."

"No, I'm just...its hot."

"Turn on the air conditioner, then." He said, his fingers dipping into the front of her panties for a second. She took his suggestion (and opportunity for escape) immediately and climbed out of the bed. She fiddled with the thermostat for longer than strictly necessary. Behind her, she heard the bed creak as Wesley got up.

Moments later, his hands were wrapped around her, stifling, but so, so familiar. She was torn between breaking free and cuddling closer.

But Faith wasn't a cuddler. Never had been, never would be.

"You can go." Wesley said, rubbing her stomach, feeling the unyielding stiffness in her body. "You don't have to stay. I understand."

"I promised."

"No you didn't. You never promise anything."

She wanted to hit him for being so damned...understanding. If she were him, she'd have been ranting and raving. He was being gentle where she wanted him to make it easier on her by yelling, screaming, anything but sweet.

"Wes...we have to talk." She said, feeling a cold blast of air from the air conditioner on her bare breasts, cooling the sweat on her skin immediately.

"About?"

"You know what."

"There's nothing to talk about. Go back to the hotel."

His tone was familiar. It wasn't the gentle Wesley she knew. It was that hard, bitter asshole she'd glimpse a few months ago. It was that bastard she'd been so determined to stamp out. He was getting defensive, pushing her away.

Doing exactly what she wanted him to do. Only, it hurt. It hurt like hell to hear that tone in his voice.

"Wesley..."

"I don't feel like talking right now. You'd better get dressed and leave, Faith."

"Maybe I don't want to." She said, ever the pain in his ass. He glared at her, collapsing on the bed, naked and beautiful and absolutely hating her at that moment.

"I don't want you here." He hissed, more than hurt fueling him. "Get your clothes and go."

"Fuck you, Wesley." She said, completely taken aback by the amount of venom in his voice. This was more than annoyance...

"LEAVE." His tone was deadly, his eyes glittering sapphire jewels in his head. His mouth curled back. She wanted to hit him, hit him until he screamed.

"Fine. Don't have to tell me twice, asshole." With that, she snatched up her scattered clothing and dressed as quickly as possible, ignoring him as he sat on the bed, his body covered in her claw marks and love bites in the shape of her mouth.

She didn't spare him a glance as she swept out of his bedroom, heading for the front door. He grabbed her before she could reach the doorknob.

"Wes--"

"I'm sorry." He breathed into her ear. He even sounded sorry. "I just...I got angry. I'm not sure why."

"I know why. You're a fuckwad." She ground out, not believing what she was hearing. Not believing she was completely ready to accept his apology. Any other guy who treated her like shit would have gotten tossed out on his ass and he'd never see hers again.

Wesley was completely and utterly different.

"I truly am. And I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

She turned in his arms, staring at him, still naked, still lovely, still hers. He lowered his gaze.

"No." She said, lying through her teeth. "Ever talk to me like that again and...and there'd better not be a next time at all."

"There won't be. I'm just...I must be tired. I just saw you standing there and the anger came and I couldn't stop myself. Didn't mean to hurt you, love. Stress and all."

"Yeah. Well...I'm...I have to go."

"Oh. You're still going?" He was slightly more than hurt. She forced a smile and kissed his cheek.

"Have a lot to do tomorrow, remember? Stupid wedding crap."

"Oh...right." Wesley said, stepping away from her. He opened the door for her and refused to look up. He looked like a man thoroughly dejected.

"Maybe...maybe I'll stay some other night. When I'm less busy."

"Yeah. We'll see." He said as she stepped into the hallway. She turned back around to...she didn't know, kiss him? Maybe?

The door was already closed.

"We'll see." Faith said and felt her heart sink to her toes. She took a deep breath and started the long walk back to the hotel, leaving her real home behind her.

****

It was quiet. Peaceful. She felt relaxed, a lullaby on her lips. A voice came from nowhere.

"You did it."

"What did I do?"

Cordelia looked around for the voice, her mind full of questions and no answers.

"Hate. You made this yourself. Spread your legs and made it."

"That wasn't me."

A hand slapped her, shattering all pretense of quiet in this place. She was dreaming, had to be dreaming. Had to get out.

"You're the reason. We're here."

"Don't."

"Leave them."

"No."

Hands touched her, pulling her close. Slimy, disgusting, water-rotted hands, flesh like gray parchment, nails the color of old mushrooms and just as soft.

"Leave them...Mother." The voice said, discordant, shattering into a million pieces as the hands tore at her throat. Darkness spread and she choked and clawed. Then---


"Cordy!"

Cordelia was startled awake, her hands fisted, clawing at the thing on her throat. She flailed her limbs, hitting something solid, something slightly warm and more than familiar. She shook awake, her eyes flying open.

She took a shuddering breath, heart hammering in her chest. "Angel?"

Angel's face hovered over hers, worried and pale, his hair tousled from their lovemaking earlier. "You were dreaming. Are you okay?"

She blinked. Once, twice. Swallowed, her mouth full of cotton. Her brain felt fuzzy and distant. A memory of something...something in her chest. Her belly ached.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She lied, lifting a hand to her forehead, which was covered in sweat. She licked her upper lip, lifting away drops of tangy sweat with the tip of her tongue.

Slowly, Angel let go of her wrists and sat back on his heels, the crisp white sheets pooled around his bare hips, chest gleaming like marble in the darkness. Cordelia pulled her own section of the sheet--much smaller than his, she noticed with a half-amused smile--up around her chest, sweat covering her body in a fine sheen.

"What was it about?"

"Huh?"

"Your nightmare. What was it about?"

"It was nothing. Just...you know, stupid stuff. My hair was messed up and I had foot fungus. That sort of thing." She lied, not really sure why she felt the need. It was just a stupid nightmare. But...it felt so real.

Angel gave her a disbelieving look, not that she could blame him.

"You sure?" He asked, rubbing at her thigh with his hand, working it under the sheet with such careful precision that she couldn't help but smile again. He lay down next to her, head on her flat stomach.

The ache in her belly slowly siphoned away at the pressure of his cheek against her navel. She decided to let the dream go.

"Yeah. You know me. Fighter all the way."

"Good. Sleepy?"

"Not when you're doing that." She said, wrapping her fingers in his mussed hair, the normally gelled spikes flopping against his forehead. He kissed her stomach through the sheet, the white linen dampening from the touch. His hand slipped higher under the sheet, skimming her thighs and up toward the heat that called to him.

"Can I kiss it and make it better?" He murmured, asking permission like he always did. She didn't understand why he asked when he could just take whenever he wanted. She was his and he knew it.

"Please do." She said, smiling smugly as he lifted onto his knees once more, leaning over her. He kissed her once, making it all better, soft lips tugging gently at hers, nipping slightly, tongue tickling her teeth and darting against hers like a sinewy snake.

He leaned away a second later, fingers hooking in the top of the sheet and slowly, slowly sliding it down, the soft material trailing down her bare breasts, then her stomach, her hips and legs until she was free. She posed for him in the darkness, knowing he could see the wild, wanton look in her eyes.

Angel maneuvered his way up her body, rubbing her feet, her calves and all the way up to her hips. She braced herself as his hands gripped her hips and she was pulled down the bed toward him, her rump on his knees. Her chin-length brown hair was strewn wildly against the sheets, dark slashes on the gleaming white.

She reached for him, drawing him down, his body nestled snugly against hers, erection pressing into her inner thigh. He pushed his face into the gentle curve of her neck, his nose rubbing along her jaw and cheek, the sound of him taking deep sniffs of her body like a powerful thrust of pleasure through her system.

"Connor's home...so...let's try to keep it down." Angel muttered in her ear, almost embarrassed.

"I make no promises." She said, raking her nails up his spine. He reacted to her, shuddering, his nose rubbing hers. She nipped his lips and arched her back, inviting him inside.

His fingers twisted in hers and slowly, slowly, he pushed inside, sheathed in her body, warm and welcome and still achingly wet from earlier that night.

Cordelia gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, back arching again. His hips pressed hard against hers and he took a shuddering breath. Again, he moved achingly slowly, pushing hard, sliding thickly against her, bellies pressed together, slippery with sweat.

His chest crushed her breasts, nipples poking and sliding hard against his. Little eddies pf pleasure danced and dipped through her chest. She tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling of his room, the lights of L.A. glittering against the earthquake-cracked plaster.

One leg went around his waist, pressing against his thighs. His knees were an annoyance she could live with on the inside of her own thighs, pressing hard, persistent.

She took one breath, two and started moving, letting him know where she wanted him. His hips ground in a tight circle, then upwards, pushing in, withdrawing.

His fingers found hers, lacing, pinning her to the bed. His mouth tugged at her ear, sending shivers racing to all parts of her body left unattended, but not forgotten.

"Harder." She said, gasping out the word around the stuttering pressure in her skull. He pushed harder at once, hips roughly pulled flush with hers. She tilted her hips upward; he withdrew and pushed inside roughly again.

"Cordy...Cor..." Angel murmured against her lips, not even noticing he was doing so. She closed her eyes, letting go of his hands and, with a spine-bending gymnastic twist she was always proud of, she flipped the big manpire over on his back.

Angel smiled in surprise and pillowed his head on his palms, lean muscles stretched, gorgeous like a lion beneath her.
"Impatient?"

"Always." She said, settling herself over him again and sliding down, hot, searing heat low in her belly. She pressed her lips together hard, knees rubbing roughly against the sheets. Angel just sat back; watching her like an artist would his model.

She moved sinuously, rising and falling, her hips gyrating in an ancient, primal circle. Angel sucked in a hiss of air when she slammed down hard, her hands exploring his stomach, the definition of his muscles like Braille beneath the pads of her fingers.

Not content to merely be an observer anymore, Angel sat up, balancing her on his lap, knees drawn up, arms going around her waist. His mouth immediately attached to her breasts, biting, nipping, licking and suckling. Cordelia bit her lip, her own arms going around his neck, pressing him close. Their bellies bumped with the rhythm of her gyrating.

Her head went back, all thought flying out of her head. She began to moan, hard and low in her chest, unable to stop and not really caring who heard her.

Angel arched his hips, meeting her as she slammed into him, pumping with ferocity.

"Ang...Angel..." She gasped, clenching hard at the roots of his hair. Angel flipped her over in a split second, pumping into her, driving the breath from her lungs, his body a weighted crush above hers. He slammed hard into her body, her hips aching, a persistent, rising sensation surging up through her body and spilling out on her lips in a high-pitched whimper that made Angel flinch in the best way.

"Cordy...Oh...Cordy...shhh..." He said, trying to quiet her and not doing a very good job.

She gave another moan of pleasure and he tried to quiet her with a kiss, which didn't quite work, since she cried out around his tongue, pulsating, quivering beneath him. Angel pressed hard and that only made it worse.

"Shhh..." He said, wondering if Connor was asleep or not. He certainly hoped so. "Cordy...we have to be...to be...quiet..."

He stuttered, couldn't help it. He could feel himself reaching the brink, excited and amused by the woman beneath him.

"I'm gonna...gonna come, Angel..." Cordelia gasped, writhing beneath him.

"I know baby...come on..."

"WELL! Cover my fucking mouth! I'm gonna scream..." Her eyes flashed and he almost started laughing, but kept up his furious rhythm, driving all thought out of his and her head.

Something uncoiled in him and he felt her inner walls clench, telling him he'd better do what she said. His hand clamped over her mouth just in time. Cordelia cried out, arching high off the bed as he did the same. His eyes slammed shut, a low (quiet) moan issuing from his throat that was drowned in Cordelia's orgasm. Her mouth was wide beneath his palm, head thrown back, fingers twisted in his hair so hard he was in danger of gaining a bald spot. Even muffled, her voice rang through the room, impossibly loud.

Angel collapsed against her, sated and nearly crying with laughter. His shoulders shook against her as she took in deep breaths, her fingers slowly unclenching in his hair and her body relaxing, like a puppet cut from its strings.

It took her a moment to realize he was laughing. Fucking LAUGHING at her.

"WHAT?" She asked, lifting his head by his hair. His eyes were full of tears and he was smiling, a sight to behold, his lips swollen and his face slightly red. He was one sexy undead bastard, she had to give him that.

"Nothing, Cor. Just...love you." He said, withdrawing from the tight fist of her body.

"Of course you do. I'm Cordelia Chase. Everyone loves me." She said with an impish grin, kissing the end of his nose.

"Sure." He said, nodding seriously before rolling onto his back at her side. She curled up against him, not bothering with the sheet; it was too hot and she was too sweaty and sticky to deal with it. Angel's fingers curled against her shoulder, holding her close, breathing in her post-coital scent. "Its a good thing Connor's room is down the hall...although, he probably heard it anyway."

"I'm not THAT loud."

Not wanting to start a fight, he didn't disagree. He smiled, kissed her forehead and relaxed against her, completely spent and completely happy. Perfectly happy, even. He drifted off to sleep with a half-smile on his face.

Beside him, Cordelia wasn't as quick to slumber. She watched him, rubbing his flat stomach with her fingers, trying to will away the feeling at the back of her mind. It was a dark feeling, pulsating and growing. She didn't know what it was, but it was angry.

Something she couldn't understand either. The air crackled with change.

Something was going to happen soon. Something in her Seer's mind, the demon below her flesh could feel it. At least, she thought she felt it. She tried rationalizing it. The nightmare had disturbed her, that was it. It was just the heat. When she finally succumbed to sleep though, she'd managed to tell herself it was nothing.

And she half-believed it too.

****

Dawn approached Los Angeles, California as a figure fell out of a rusted out, lime-green Gremlin, its exhaust blowing thick, billowing smoke into the already polluted city air. The figure rolled on the sidewalk, blood flowing from a long slash across his back, the leather jacket in tatters.

The sword in his hands was covered in dark blood, too dark to be human.

He gasped a breath, crawling as best he could across the rough, warm pavement. The gate to the Hyperion Hotel swung open beneath his palm and he managed to scoot past it, blood dripping down his lips from his nose.

Once inside the small garden, he tried to get up, using a potted plant as a brace. The door of the hotel was so close, he could see safety, like welcoming arms ushering him inside.

His knees gave, head spinning. The potted plant upended under his palm and he collapsed, spinning out of time and mind.

The sky above him turned from deep purple to light pink to blue, then yellow with a hot, clear dawn.

He lay there, unmoving.

Continue on...