Title: Kaleidoscope
Author: writingpathways
Posted: 02-16-2004
Email: raelee514@snet.net
Rating: PG13
Category: AU
Content: Mostly B/A at first but not for too long(sorry anyway), C/X but eventually C/A friendship and more.
Summary: Angel comes back from Hell, and things go AU pretty much from there.
Spoilers: Spoilers for Buffy up to first episode of season 3, Anne. Also Buffy meets and starts dating Scott Hope. Pretty much will be an Alternate take on Season 3 Buffy, but I'll be picking and choosing things from canon to include with my own twist.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes:
Feedback: Please. And constructive critiques welcomed.
Thanks/Dedication:Part 4
All he had to do was take it. Take the blood from the trembling young thing in his grasp and fill his hunger. Fill it with the sweet yet salty blood, pungent with fear and clear with youth and purity. Yes, yes, this was what he needed, the flesh in his hands was the only thing that could sate him. The need hummed inside of Angel more instinct than thought, a force from the deepest depths that whispered to him that this was the way to the satisfaction he craved.
He growled the anticipation inhaled with his nose deeply and started to pierce the frail skin of the girl’s flesh. A cacophony of noise, scents and memories flooded his senses. First it was the scent of the blood, in the last deep inhale it went beyond it’s virgin pureness, beyond the health of the girl and became unique, earthy, flowery and familiar. The sense of familiarity was coupled with her scream, her scream was loud, terrified but informal, pleading, with knowledge that astounded him.
She screamed. “Angel! No. No. No. Angel?” her last shout of his name tentative and insecure.
Instincts still held him thought, instincts clamped a hand over her mouth without tearing his own mouth away from her neck.
“Usually, I enjoy the screaming of my name, baby, but right now I want you to shut the fuck up.” Her voice, her knowledge of him, her familiar scent unsettling him, sending up images and visuals he didn’t understand.
He licked her neck, tasting the beads of blood the pricks his fangs had made left behind. Heady, sweet but not too sweet the perfect elixir but he pushed her harder against the surface behind her and inhaled more deeply. He’d been denied the taste before, he’d been denied the decision to turn this writhing body under him that was fighting and still whispering his name.
He knew her. He’d wanted to turn her, for a brief second he remembered now. To taunt, to torment The Slayer but doing it in front of her to shattered her mind and laugh all the way… Yes he’d wanted to use this girl to taunt The Slayer.
Buffy. The Slayer had a name. Her name was Buffy.
Instinct and hunger pulled strong still but Angel felt his grasp on the woman against the car loosen. His mind whirring, who was she that he’d decided to use her as a pawn, decided she’d be a pawn he’d turn? Memory told him it was a whim but a whim he’d liked. It would have hurt, Buffy, fragile small Buffy that a part of his mind wanted him to hate and the other part of him screamed that he loved. Nothing felt clear. Was he still in hell?
Hell?
He’d been in hell. But there was flesh, against him tempting his bloodlust hot and heated and afraid. He pulled back, kept his hand against the girls mouth. She was fighting, her teeth blunt against his hand to try to free herself, to scream, he felt as if he would usually laugh at the sass, at the strength, and relish breaking it down as he drained her all the more. And then he felt nauseated. He growled, he needed the blood why wasn’t he taking her blood.
Her eyes were wide, hazel, fearful but he felt no recognition despite the familiar scent and a flash of memory of staring into those eyes, laying on top of the body pressed against him ready to bite, turn, and use for his pleasure and Buffy’s pain.
Pain. Buffy, a sword fight and torment and then he was back. Back and starving. His felt his face shift, to its human form his mind trying to figure things out, knowing now he couldn’t, wouldn’t bite this young girl for a million reasons but he still wanted too. He moved closer to her again, scenting her neck, lapping up more beads of blood with his tongue and then he stepped back, letting go of her, his knees buckling out from under him.
It tasted so good, so right, but no it was wrong. It was what he couldn’t have because? He couldn’t remember but he knew. He was certain, he couldn’t have her blood. And yet, he was the ground the taste of blood in his mouth, shaking, dizzy, lost in a haze of hunger and with knowledge that contradicted survival. Angel looked up and realized he was staring into the wide eyes of Cordelia Chase.
She stood still, plastered against a car and stared at him, her hand on her neck where he’d pricked her skin. Tiny pricks, small as paper cuts but bleeding steadily still. He could smell it, still taste it on his tongue, on his lips, it was a layer over his teeth, Cordelia’s blood. He looked down and away from her, he couldn’t move all he could do was shake. He didn’t even know where he was or how he’d gotten there. What had he done? What had he been thinking of doing?
Blood. The word, the instinct, the need. It screamed into his head again and he vamped out and growled. Cordelia screamed, he saw her jump but she couldn’t move and neither could he. Blood. It was what he needed, wanted, and there was more nearby, more than just hers. Animal blood. Animal blood was what was okay, a voice whispered against the harsher whisper tempting him to spring up and take Cordelia’s.
“Blood,” Cordelia whispered and she was staring at him. Angel nodded, wondering if he’d said something out loud but he started to fall, fall into the hum of her rapid heartbeat, she was so scared – it was exhilarating – her hand had moved away from her neck. Blood against her throat, blood on her fingers… Blood.
No. Not hers.
And she took off, ran past him but he could hear her heart, the thrum of it reminding him of what she offered. Cordelia was nearby, she hadn’t run away.
She’s close. Chase her, grab her, take what you need.
Move. Leave. Get far away from her, away from her blood.
Two choices that were both right, both of them instinct, both of them torturing him in his mind in harsh whispers. Angel was struggling and trying to get to his feet without thought to which path he would choose. Would he turn away from the scent of Cordelia or run toward it? Would he take her or let her go?
He made it to his knees but faltered, his hands hitting the pavement hard scrapping the skin of his palm. The pain stabbed him, first dulling and then heightening the pangs of hunger pricking through him. Hunger the very thing that had driven him toward Sunnydale, to this parking lot. It would, could drive him after Cordelia, to treat her like prey and take her despite the whispering instinct screaming at him not too.
Angel started to try to struggle to his feet. He would turn away from her heartbeat. He would. He couldn’t. God, it was so loud and it felt like it was getting louder, tempting and tempting him to chase. What was the fool bitch thinking? Why hadn’t she run to Buffy, told her to get her stake ready? Why hadn’t she run as far away and as fast as she could.
Louder and louder it came. A fearful heartbeat coming toward him instead of trying to run away. Angel spun, it was his hunger, it was the temptation and he wanted to fight it but he didn’t remember how. He would stand and he would stalk her. Grab her. It wouldn’t take long she was so close. In fact she was right there.
He blinked. Cordelia kneeled; pale, wide-eyed, a smear of blood on her neck, and the sound of her heart a siren call under her breasts, right in front of him, her own knees on the pavement. She stared at him and her hand came toward him, shaking and in it was a quart of red blood.
“I agree. You aren’t taking my blood. Animal all the way for you.”
Her voice was shaky, unsure, she looked terrified and ready to run. To really and truly run but she held the quart in front of him. He stared at her but then grabbed the blood, drank it down…
It wasn’t enough. But he looked up and she was holding another one. He stared and grabbed again, and thought he heard a distinct sound that sounded both like a snort of disgust and a sound of relief.
He finished and hoped she had more. “More?”
“Yes.” She moved and grabbed another quart out of a large cooler. Handed it to him, her eyes seemed smaller, her heart rate was slowing.
“You are stupid, little girl,” Angel whispered, draining the third of blood.
She flinched. “Buffy told Willow her spell worked,” she whispered. “Of course, Buffy also said you went to hell.”
“I did.”
Cordelia flinched again, then laughed the nervous laugh of someone terrified. “This can’t be real. Can’t be real… I mean what, did hell spit you out? Was your soul too good for them? Because I got say you seem evil enough for it to me…” Cordelia stopped with a gasp, jumped to her feet and kicked the cooler toward him.
“On that note. I filled this thing with ice and all the blood I could find in the butcher shop, why I don’t know and really am going to try not to over-analyze.”
Angel had moved on to a packet from the cooler and watched her as he swallowed mouthfuls of cow’s blood. She took more steps away from him, backwards, and then stooped down and picked up a garment bag from the ground. She started to turn but kept one eye on him and that’s when he realized her shirt had been torn and it really hit him that smear of blood on her neck was his doing.
“Cordelia,” he called out. His voice was low and it cracked, the animal blood she’d given him clearing his head enough for him to know which voice, which instincts he wanted to listen to.
She didn’t stop moving but she nodded at him.
“Sorry,” and Angel felt weak and ashamed, that word was to small and it had no power, he’d nearly killed her. He would have. He knew it. She’d be dead right now if she hadn’t gotten blood out of the butcher shop. He didn’t understand why she had, what had driven her. But it saved her life and he knew she had only herself to thank for that.
Cordelia didn’t respond to him, she just got herself into her car and had driven away in a flash. He closed her eyes. She’d go to Buffy, wouldn’t she? Or Giles? Maybe by sunrise he’d be dust.
Part 5
Paper thin cuts dripped a small amount of blood, adding to the dried layer of blood marring her neck. She fingered the area around the cuts and felt half-relieved Angel had sliced instead of bitten, but it didn’t quell her fear that the tiny cuts wouldn’t stop bleeding. Wouldn’t stop staining her neck with the rusty-pink crust that covered more than half her neck and glared at her from the bathroom mirror.
She turned on the hot water tap, then she took off her ripped and ruin blouse, and winced at the frayed ends of the expensive soft silk as she tossed it into the trashcan.
Cordelia shivered and crossed her hands over her chest for a moment then looked her reflection in the eye. A scared little girl stared her back with mussed up hair, running make-up and blood covering her neck. Cordelia didn’t recognize the person looking back at her with familiar shaped eyes and that had to be fixed. She grabbed a towel and dunked it in the hot water. The water burned but Cordelia didn’t care, it was the only way to clean off the touch of near death. She soaped up the towel, tilted her neck and began to roughly scrub.
Her neck scrubbed cleaned Cordelia stepped into a hot shower and found the bruises. A large hand sized bruises on her right hip and her upper arm, Angel’s hands. He’d grabbed her tightly and pinned her hard against a car, he memory was a blur but there was the evidence. They wouldn’t wash off, she’d have to wait for them to fade, wait for them not to hurt at the slightest touch but before then she could clean off her skin. Of the fear and helplessness that had filled every pore, she had to clean it off because it didn’t belong.
She felt raw from scrubbing, from the too hot water, from being assaulted when she stepped out of the shower and ignored the towels hanging nearby. She went to her closet, she opened it and pulled out her favorite towel. Large, yellow and soft, it’d be the most comfortable against her skin. It’d be safe against her bruises and keep her warm from the constant shivers even the hot water couldn’t stop.
Wrapped in the towel Cordelia left the bathroom. There was her bed, with her school books waiting for her. She’d had homework to do, she remembered and it made her start to shake. Breathing in deeply she took a step forward but her eyes fell on her answering machine. It blinked. She had a message. Xander had said he would call, hadn’t he? Xander. Sweet, loyal, funny and lame. Her sweet and safe Xander. She started to shake more, her heart rate speeding up and her lungs felt like they were closing. Cordelia gasped for a breath and closed her eyes.
She wanted to listen to Xander’s message. Hear him say a bunch of normal and silly things that a boyfriend should say to his girlfriend. It would be so simple and so normal but she couldn’t take the step. She hadn’t had a normal night, she hadn’t had a normal night in a long time since she’d opened her eyes to the demons of the world. Her night had been more abnormal than her normal abnormal and ultimately confusing...and Xander was sweet, safe and loyal but not where she needed to turn.
Cordelia fought to breathe and tried to step to her bed. It would be soft, she could sleep, she’d knock her books to the floor. She’d sleep and then she’d face the questions that were the consequences of her night. Cordelia faltered, she fell to the floor, shaking and suddenly hot. Her heartbeat had sped up like it’d been in the parking lot. Grabbed, pinned, her neck sliced open – tears stung her eyes and she moved herself against the closest wall, pulled her knees under her chin and started to rock.
“It will be okay,’ she whispered once, to herself, then Cordelia let go and began to cry.
~~
The sun rose and found Cordelia’s uncovered windows, creating a room of bright yellow and waking her mind. She hadn’t slept, and she’d run out of tears, but she hadn’t been able to stop remembering, or stop thinking about Angel.
Through the night, her knees still tucked under her chin and her own arms hugging herself tight, Cordelia had run through the entire situation a million times.
First her fear, her helplessness, and the certainty she’d be dead if Angel hadn’t suddenly pulled away from her. That was why she’d cried. Sobbed, rocking and hugging herself until she got sick of the sound of her own sobs. Then she swallowed them back, stilled her rocking but found it still hard to breathe, and forced herself to focus on her breath. In and out, she focused on her breathing and told herself that she hadn’t died. She hadn’t died, and she’d taken control of the situation. She’d smiled wryly at that – control of a situation with an obviously insane and hungry vampire, if that wasn’t an oxymoron she didn’t know what was. Yet, she’d gotten the blood, she’d handed it to him and then she’d run. A slice on her neck, a few bruises, a bit of a fright – those were getting off easy in the face of Angelus. Cordelia knew that, which brought her to the third conclusion. It hadn’t been the soulless version of the vampire she knew in that parking lot, she’d seen his soulless half. He’d never have gotten off of her on his own accord, Angel had let go and fallen broken to the ground. He’d been talking to himself and muttering one second about wanting to kill her and the next about how no, he wouldn’t, no not human, not Cordelia. She knew, she’d recognized the soul within him because he’d recognized her as someone he knew.
Fear still spread throughout her, her muscles were taut and she could still feel his hands pressed into her, where she knew bruises were gaining more ugly colors. But confusion became the strongest emotion rushing through her as she sat awake, hugging herself for comfort and strength, against the wall. Buffy had killed him, she’d said so, Buffy said she’d had to impale him with a sword and send him to hell to stop Acathla from swallowing the whole world. How was it possible he was here in Sunnydale?
And as the sun brightened her room, reminding her that there was a day to live, this thought was in the front of her mind and the back of it. But her eyes started to blink and she realized she had to move. She stood up slowly, stretching her legs and letting the towel fall to the floor.
Instantly she investigated the bruises on her arm and hip, and frowned at their ugly appearance blotching and marring her skin. Then her hand slipped up against her neck, the spot where he’d sliced into her felt tender and raw. She feared it would be bruised too, ugly and marred and impossible to hide from prying and un-understanding eyes. Seconds later she was in front of the mirror, breathing in relief, they’d healed like ultra thin paper cut. Thin cuts, slices, that only if you knew they were there could one see it. Cordelia sighed, this was good, this meant that only those she chose to tell would know about her night.
She’d get to pick and choose how much to share, and how much to leave out. Cordelia Chase didn’t over-share, she reminded herself. She frowned realizing she’d have to tell someone about Angel. Giles. She’d tell Giles first, then the rest of them, Buffy, Xander, Willow and Oz. Giles would tell the rest of them, well maybe she’d tell Xander, Cordelia frowned at the thought and stepped out of her bathroom to look at the time.
It was later than she’d realized, she was running late, she squealed and started running around her room. She couldn’t miss cheerleading practice, and she needed another shower. And the decision was made: shower, dress, go to cheerleading practice, and tell Giles about Angel. The other thoughts running through her mind she’d worry about later – much later.
~~
Xander grinned, near maniacally, as he watched Cordelia kick her legs nearly over her head through the fence that blocked him from walking across the field for a much closer view. He heard a few other boys nearby make a mention of his girlfriends legs, and how she could high kick for them anytime and he grinned.
“Yep, that’s my girlfriend,” he said, too loudly but he didn’t care. “My girlfriend!” he repeated when the two guys talking, football players, looked at him. Xander grinned. “All mine.”
“Enjoy it while you can, it won’t last, Harris.”
Xander shrugged, deciding to ignore the jock, he knew nothing about Cordelia. Few people did and he was one of the few who knew there was a bit more to her than high fashion pumps and great legs. But what great legs they were, he thought, ogling her again. Until the one of the jock’s voices permeated his thoughts and ruined his plans to get Cordelia alone in a closet.
“And then I’ll get my hands on that delicious body and do things to her your amateur hands could never had dreamed of, Harris.”
Xander spun around and glared at him. “Don’t talk about her like that, that’s my girlfriend.”
“What Harris?” the guy laughed. “Going to defend her honor, or have your pal, that freak, Buffy do it?"
Xander started to see red, first they were talking about Cordelia like she was a piece of meat and now they were bringing Buffy into it? He lunged at the jock, only to have himself immediately pulled off and corralled into the High School.
“Picking fights first thing in the morning, is not good for your health, Xander,” Buffy said.
Xander felt like all the air had been squeezed out of him and he was flat balloon on the ground being trampled on. He was now sandwiched between Willow and Buffy walking down the school hallway; this was not good for his already bad reputation. “He was saying things. Things about Cordelia. And you, I might add…and damn it Buffy you did it again. You made me look like a wimp that needed to be saved by a girl!”
“What? I didn’t hit anyone, I just grabbed you off of him. I saved him, from you. I made him look like a wimp.”
“Yep. One jock, looking like a total wimp,” Willow agreed, as they came to a stop by Buffy’s locker.
Xander let his head hit the locker next to Buffy’s with a hard thud. “No, no, no. You girls don’t understand…that’s…ugh. I’m going to be the laughing stock of the school today.”
“And this will be different from yesterday because?” Buffy asked.
Willow stifled a laugh and then patted him on the back. “You are still dating the head cheerleader.”
Xander smiled. “True, true. Cordelia was looking mighty fine too, all glowy and kicky in her tiny skirt. Yep, that’s my girl and soon she’ll she sidling up to me all soapy and showery-fresh and we can go to a closet where…” but as usual Buffy interrupted him when he got to the good part of his fantasy.
“So, last night I didn’t get to patrol. Mom and her bonding stuff…but tonight I definitely have to or Giles will probably threaten to have babies or something. So what about it guys, you two, me, Mr. Pointy?”
“Mr. Pointy?” Scott’s voice interrupted them and he glanced at Buffy questioningly.
“Oh, I, uh…” she glanced at Xander for help and Xander smiled brightly.
Yes, he was Xander and he would now save her from having to lie to keep her Slayer status a secret. Though, he was of mind to think maybe Scott would be okay with being told. He seemed like a straight up guy, worthy of Buffy’s time and affections. After all he didn’t make Buffy seemed like a crazed obsessed girl who only talked about her boyfriend 24/7 like Angel had. But the best part was Scott didn’t drink blood. Yep, two things that made him an okay guy to be dating your best friend. Like Oz, sure he was a werewolf, but he went into a cage. He was housetrained. Plus he was good to Willow. Scott was like Oz, less the werewolf thing and the guitar, Xander decided.
“Her invisible friend!” Willow suddenly said, interrupting Xander’s train of thought and making him realize he’d forgotten to save Buffy, and Willow had just possibly made it worse.
“What?” he said in chorus with Scott.
“Sure. Buffy, she has this invisible friend, from when she was little. I mean she doesn’t have him now. But his name was Mr. Pointy-Finger. She just says Mr. Pointy for short and she had a dream about him last night and she was just telling us about how it was her, Jay Leno and Mr. Pointy doing a skit about pilgrims on national television…” Willow trailed off and stepped behind Xander to hide her flaming red cheeks and whispered. “Why didn’t you say something before I did?”
Xander looked from Willow to Buffy, and shrugged before looking Scott straight in the eye. “Never ask a girl if she had any good dreams, you find things out about them you never wanted to know.”
“And things they didn’t want you to know,” Buffy added turning to Scott with a smile. “I swear I haven’t thought of Mr. Pointy-Finger since I was seven years old.”
Scott smiled. “It’s okay, I think it’s kind of cute really. All of us have tales of things from when they were kids. Which is why you will never meet my mother.”
Buffy smiled. “So, what brings you by my locker.”
Xander watched smiling as the two of them continued to talk. Yep, Scott was a good guy, made Buffy smile instead of worry. He needed to get to know him better. Maybe more triple dates like they’d had last night, he could talk Cordelia into it, wasn’t like her friends ever wanted him around. Least she could do was continue to be nice to Buffy and Willow since they were nice to her.
“We should get to the library, tell Giles our plans to patrol, before he yells at me,” Buffy said a moment after Scott left. She then grabbed his arm, and soon Willow latched onto his other arm.
“I’m so sorry about the whole invisible friend thing, Buffy, I don’t know what…”
“It’s okay, I think he really did find it cute. Way to help me score points.”
“I like him. He’s a good guy,” Xander said, making his thoughts known.
Willow and Buffy shared a glance and giggled, dropping his arms and walking into the library ahead of him.
“What? Don’t you appreciate my opinions. I bet Cordelia would…”
They laughed louder and Xander opened his mouth stammering for another retort. He didn’t get to think of one, because Giles walked out from the stacks with a worried look and way too many books in his arms.
“There was a terrible attack in town last night – it doesn’t look good at all. Buffy, the article is on the counter. I’m going to need all your eyes. Xander, doesn’t Cordelia have first free as well? Go get her quickly, Willow as soon as he can I want Oz in here, I’m afraid this might take a lot of research…”
“Was it a vampire?” Buffy asked.
Giles looked up. “I’m unsure at the moment.”
“Unsure?” Buffy echoed.
“Xander. Cordelia, please.”
Xander looked at Willow, then Buffy, they both looked as worried as he felt at Giles seriousness and he turned on his heal. As the doors to the library closed behind him he heard Buffy rapidly firing questions about how one could be uncertain if an attack was vampires or not.
Part 6
Buffy scrubbed the dirt off her face, wondering if Maybelline would ever come up with graveyard-proof products – or at least a facial care line. Of course what did it matter if her make up was messed up, or hair had dirt in it she wasn’t supposed to want to impress Angel. Lifting up she met the mirror and watched her face fall into a frown at the thought of …her…her? Ex-boyfriend it sounded too normal and her life wasn’t.
She wished.
Her heartbeat had returned to normal, her focus was no longer on the demons she’d been slaying in the graveyard after a full day of tracking them. Instead she didn’t have focus. Her mind was wandering from, how she was going to pass Snyder’s prohibition if she kept having to slay during school hours. Didn’t demons have any sense of decorum anymore. They were supposed to wreck havoc after sunset. Then her mind would fly to Angel, then it would remind her she had a new boyfriend now – Scott. She was supposed to care if Scott saw her hair a ratted nest of dirt and grass after Slayage. She was supposed to care if Scott missed her when she ran out to stake something. She wasn’t supposed to have her mind constantly on Angel. She didn’t want to miss him. She’d never wanted to miss him. She’d wanted him with her, always and forever, they were in love. But she’d lost him, first because of a curse and then because of her own sword. Curses and swords, who had break ups like this in a normal life?
She just wanted normal, or one normal thing, and that’s where Scott came in. Of course every time she’d crossed paths with him today as she sneaked on and off school grounds, she’d had to say ‘Bye’ before the ‘Hi’ had even left his mouth. It wasn’t fair.
And then there was Giles, which led back to Angel.
It always led back to Angel. She should check on him, she didn’t think he was doing as well as he claimed, despite seeming fine. Buffy couldn’t even remember if she’d said she would, or wouldn’t tonight. But she wanted too, but it was already so late and she’d promised her mother she’d try to be home early. Again. Her mother was so scared and confused now that she knew Buffy was the Slayer. She’d hated lying to her mother all those years but now that the secret was out the guilt hadn’t abated.
Her mother worried, and Giles worried too because of Angel – and that was why she kept Angel a secret. His return a secret, because she didn’t know how to tell Giles. She was afraid he’d want Angel dead, take Angel away from her again – and she wasn’t supposed to allow herself to think about ‘having him back’ because that could lead to what ifs about a relationship and a future. And they didn’t, couldn’t… because there was a curse. Curses, parents, vampires and slaying.
It wasn’t fair. She wasn’t fair.
Giles said there was trouble and he wasn’t sure if it was vampires or not, and she’d immediately thought it was Angel. He wasn’t quite well yet, he’d been feral when she found him. She’d blamed Angel without thought, but only vocalized against it being vampires. It’d turned out to be true and the relief that it was another type of demon she’d felt had been palpable. But shouldn’t she have trusted that he wouldn’t harm anyone?
Buffy closed her eyes to her reflection. She didn’t want to see it in her eyes, the truth to the voice in her head. You can’t trust Angel. He’s a vampire. A killer, a murderer, and he’d tortured your watcher, he tortured Giles. But he was also Angel, always Angel, the man she loved who didn’t know his curse could be undone. He hadn’t know what would happen…and the soul was back in place. Angelus was gone…Angelus had to remain dead. And for that to remain true she had to keep her distance. She had to grab onto what was nice and safe and normal.
A boy whose faults would have nothing to do with blood, fangs and gypsies. Yet, could she really stop her feet from walking to Angel’s? Could she really make herself go home and not go and see if he was all right?
The door to the bathroom opened, the noise startling her out of her thought. Buffy prayed it wouldn’t be a teacher because she couldn’t think up an excuse for being in the school after hours. Luckily it was Cordelia, which for once caused Buffy to feel extreme relief. Cordelia hadn’t gone home yet either, Cordelia could give her a ride home and help her avoid the mansion.
“Hi, Buffy. Snyder’s yapping at Giles. He’s such a rodent.”
Buffy grimaced, now she really had to get out of the school fast, the last thing she wanted to face was Synder. “Uh, look, Cordy, I kind of…”
“Uh, huh?” Cordelia asked distractedly as she raised her hair off her neck and stared at it in the mirror. Buffy watched for a moment and rolled her eyes, thinking ‘vain much, Cordelia?’ before asking, “Could you give me a ride?”
Cordelia remained silent, fixated on her reflection one of her hands raising to touch her neck, which was red from what Buffy guessed the other times Cordelia had run her fingers over her skin.
“Cordy!”
“Huh, oh, Buffy! What?”
“Ride. To my home. Can you give me one?”
Cordelia turned, her hair falling over her shoulders with the actions, causing Buffy stifled the urge to rip it out. It fell perfectly over her shoulders and looked all brushed and shiny. How did the girl do it? It wasn’t fair. If she was the Slayer she probably wouldn’t be covered with dirt. She’d been in the graveyard, she’d been bait, why wasn’t she more dirty? Realizing what she was doing, Buffy quickly shoved the envious thoughts away. She couldn’t let Cordelia push her buttons, she needed that ride home.
“Yes, that’s a great idea,” Cordelia said suddenly with such sincerity and a weird look in her eyes.
“It is?” Buffy asked, feeling confused it had been so easy. Cordelia usually wasn’t so nice after spending the night in the graveyard.
Cordelia gave a half-smile and then turned toward the door. “Let’s go. We don’t want to run into Snyder.”
The seat belt snapped into place and Buffy found herself once again fighting the feelings of envy that Cordelia Chase always evoked inside of her. Cordelia had a drivers license, but more than that she had an amazing car. Her mother had yet to let her go for her license, saying she wasn’t ready yet, her driving wasn’t good enough, however Cordelia was speeding haphazardly through Sunnydale everyday. Buffy bit her lip and realized she should never let her mother see how Cordelia drove, she’d probably not be allowed in the car and that would really cause a problem since Cordelia was the chauffeur on a lot of her slaying missions.
Not for the first time since returning home from her time in Los Angeles Buffy felt a huge surge of regret for her actions at running away. While she’d been able to mend things with Willow and Xander everything with her mother was still out of sorts and she wondered if it would settle back into place. Running away after her mother was hit with the news she was a Slayer during a fight for the world…it had just compounded everything. She had royally screwed up with her mother and things, though better, weren’t really great with Giles either. Yet everyday she looked at Giles and kept a huge secret one she knew she shouldn’t be quiet about. It was her duty as a Slayer to tell and beyond that she owed Giles the truth for much better reasons. She loved Giles. He wasn’t quite like a father, but he was more than a Watcher to her. He was Giles.
Buffy breathed out purposely, damn it, her mind was going in the same constant circle. She felt like a gerbil stuck on a wheel. She glanced at Cordelia and realized the other girl wasn’t talking to her nonstop, or irritated at Buffy for not paying attention. That wasn’t normal, things should be normal, she wanted inane Cordelia chatter to stop the constant loop of her thoughts and the urge to tell Cordelia to turn towards Crawford Street – and how would she explain that one to the ever curious chatterbox.
“You’re quiet,” Buffy stated. “Did the demons hurt your tongue?”
A loud pfft-ing sound unique to Cordelia stung her ears, followed by a sharp turn that made Buffy’s seatbelt tighten around her.
“Buffy…” Cordelia said but Buffy didn’t hear she was too busy talking in a sudden decision that she couldn’t keep sitting in silence and if Cordelia was going to be weird she’d have to be the chatterbox.
“Do you think Scott is mad at me? I mean when I call him what should I say about all those ‘Hi-Byes’ I gave him all day today, when we managed to be, you know actually in the school for a few glasses. I mean it’s not normal for your girlfriend to be flitting in and out, not explaining… I just don’t know. I wish I could just tell him the truth, but then again he probably couldn’t handle it. I mean Xander and Willow are different, and well you…you handled it okay but you’re not exactly the average Sunnydale student. Scott’s nice and average. I really like that about him, I know it doesn’t really sound all that nice. What is your advice?”
“Buffy? I…”
“Maybe though, maybe it adds mystery. I mean we just started going out and so, we still are getting to know each other so maybe my ups and downs, the running off to slay. Maybe to him it makes me seem like this really mysterious, intruiging woman. Like in those movies when the guy keeps seeing a girl and just wants to know who she is…Sort of like Cinderella.”
“Juliet, Cinderella… is that a move up or down, Buffy?” Cordelia said, her voice edgy. “Buffy, I really…Uh, what’s up with your street?”
Buffy looked out the window and wondered how she missed Cordelia’s usually screeching stop. There was two big orange Road Closed signs blocking off her street and her neighbors cars up and down the adjoining street, including her mothers. She’d really hoped to beat her home. “Some sort of construction, they dug this big hole in the middle of the street. It’s pain and very noisy.”
“Oh.”
“Well, thanks for the ride, Cordy.” Buffy said quickly, climbing out of the car, feeling as if she’d had her fill of the girl for the day.
“Uh…yeah bye.”
In a blink of an eye Buffy slammed the door, forgot Cordelia and headed down her street all the while building up her courage to smile and talk to her mother about her day – with the inevitable barrage of worried questions in regards to slaying.
Then her heart stopped. Angel was in front of her house, hands in his pockets, head hunched down looking at the grass. Right in front of her house, where lights blared out of uncovered windows. Happiness at the sight of him quickly changed to fear and confusion, she swung forward, grabbed him and pulled him around a tree at the edge of her yard.
“Angel, you shouldn’t be here. My mom could see you.”
He stared at her, his back to the trunk of the tree and then glanced toward the house for a moment. Looking back at her his eyes clouded with guilt. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to tell you…you didn’t show up at the mansion today?”
“Was I supposed too?” Buffy asked, her arms crossing over her chest. She wanted to touch him. “I really wanted too… I almost did, now, but since you’re here. There was this demon problem today. Mom is probably freaking….I really did want to see you…” she trailed off and stepped closer to him, feeling hypnotized by his eyes, his smell, his very presence.
“So, you didn’t stop by because of…”
“Slaying. Giles had everyone on it, even Cordelia was in and out of the school, driving us and being bait.”
“Bait,” Angel repeated.
Buffy stared into his eyes, they were still so clouded by guilt and she felt awful for hiding him behind the tree. “I’m sorry. I just, I’m not ready to tell. My mother especially, she’s so freaked out by things and my running away made thing so much worse. I don’t know what to do, Angel.”
He reached out and touched her face, Buffy wanted to turn her cheek into his touch, feel his palm against her cheek but instead her body tensed. Angel quickly dropped his arm. “I’ll go.”
“Okay. I’m so glad you’re doing so much better. I’ll try to drop by the mansion soon… we can talk…figure things out, right?”
Angel nodded. “Right.”
“Right,” Buffy whispered, biting back tears. How was she going to stop herself from crying, she thought as running into her home.
~~
Cordelia stared at her shut passenger door. She’d been a wuss, a total pussyfooting wimp and now the Slayer wasn’t in her car, a captive audience for the information that Cordelia knew she needed to tell. She had to tell about Angel, what had happened, what he’d been like, the things he said. She had to tell. Because good news or bad news, she really wasn’t sure what it was, Angel was back from hell and with a soul. But he wasn’t okay, and no matter how much blood she’d stolen for him her instincts told her that Hell had to make a person – vampire, whatever – not okay.
“Far from okay,” Cordelia muttered to herself and unbuckled her seatbelt. Not telling Buffy when she had her in the car about Angel had been wrong, it’d been a wimpy. And she Cordelia Chase was not a wimp, if only she’d had two minutes alone with Giles during the day, this would be over with. But no, the demon problem kept the library, the Scoobs, and herself busy for the entire day. Then when she finally found herself alone in the library with Giles, Snyder came in with his weasel eyes and started questioning all the notes Giles’ had written for her and the others. And he’d kicked her out or threatened detention.
Finding Buffy still in the school and in need of a ride, at felt like a blessing. Only she hadn’t been able to spit out the words, like she was some shy and retiring girl. She didn’t get it but she didn’t know how to tell Buffy about Angel. It’d been why she’d chosen Giles in the first place. Alone in her car with Buffy, all she could think about was how close she’d come to getting bit by Angel, her hand constantly flying to her neck. She hadn’t been able to keep her hands off of it all day, she could feel the paper thin cuts, but they weren’t noticeable unless you really looked for them. Which she’d kept doing, in fact she’d been doing it in the bathroom so lost in the memory of that terrifying moment she’d barely heard Buffy give her the opening to tell her.
Then she’d kept her lips shut like she was fraidy-cat. She’d just managed to shake some sense into herself when Buffy started babbling about Scott Hope and his average loveliness, trying to create some fairy tale to use for their relationship, much like Angel and Buffy had resembled <I>Romeo and Juliet</i>. The snipe at that had left her mouth before she could think. It’d been stupid, she should have blurted out, ‘Forget Scott, he’s bland and plus Angel’s back and I’m pretty sure he’s all soulful.’
Instead she’d nearly run into a road closed sign blocking Buffy’s street and dented her car. Then Buffy was gone.
She snapped herself free from her seatbelt, grabbed her purse thinking solely of the stake and cross inside of it. She didn’t really think vampires would be lurking on the Slayer’s street, but then again a lot with low IQs seemed to be turned. Everything inside of Cordelia screamed that Buffy and the others needed to know about Angel, and if she had to start with Buffy then that was what she had to do. Hurrying down the street, she finally caught sight of the back of Buffy’s head, thankful the Slayer hadn’t used her supernatural speed. When suddenly, the blonde sped up into a blur, that stopped on the side of her house, pushing a dark figure against a tree so they’d be hidden from the house.
From Cordelia’s place on the street though it was very clear that the dark figure was Angel. Her steps sped up stopping only when her brain caught up with her, that getting between a Vampire and a Slayer wasn’t a smart move. She stopped short, why was he here? Had he come to confess? Or was he crazy again? Had she gotten him enough blood to stop the insanity of hunger? Was that possible with a vampire?
Cordelia stood still, leaning forward and blinked when she thought she heard Buffy say something about ‘not ready to tell’, was that right. She moved closer, silently, praying that neither of them heard her, that they were too caught up in each other.
“I don’t know what to do, Angel,” she heard Buffy say.
Cordelia’s brow furrowed, her nervous dissipating with confusion as the obvious floated through her mind that Buffy should tell Giles.
“I’ll go,” said Angel.
“Okay. I’m so glad you’re doing so much better. I’ll try to drop by the mansion soon… we can talk…figure things out, right?”
A click resounded through Cordelia’s head. She knew, Buffy knew, had known that Angel was back. They weren’t talking like two people just reunited, the shock was gone. Buffy knew Angel was back and she hadn’t told Giles, most likely she hadn’t told Xander, because he would have gone ballistic he hated Angel. Willow? Cordelia wondered, could Willow keep a secret like this? Probably for Buffy.
Buffy. That bitch had known Angel was back, that he was dangerous and starved, probably crazed from whatever happened to a soul in Hell and she hadn’t said anything. It was all her fault, all her fault Angel had nearly killed her and that poor guy from the butcher’s. What was the Slayer thinking? Why wasn’t she telling?
“Cordelia?”
She gasped, startled out of her thoughts and once again could see where she was staring. Angel was about a foot away from her, looking right at her with intense dark eyes. Her hand flew to her neck, unconsciously, and she stepped backward.
“I won’t…I’m sorry. Please just let me apologize.”
Angel took a step toward her as he spoke but went still in an instant. He studied her, his senses on alert to the sounds and sight of Cordelia Chase. Rapid heart beat. Healthy dose of fear. Heavy breathing. Really wide eyes. Beautiful, wide eyes, they were a swirl of ambers and golds, and stared at him with distrust. Yet there was just enough curiosity to give Angel hope.
“Why? So you can alleviate your guilt?”
Shit. Angel dug his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, glanced behind him at Buffy’s house before meeting Cordelia. Too sharp for her own damn good, he thought frustration tensing his muscles. “Look, let me walk you to your car okay?”
“Don’t want to talk in front of Buffy’s house? Really? Why? Not like she doesn’t know you are back? Though, I bet she has no clue that an innocent butcher and me were almost your supper last night.”
“Cordelia.” He could hear his teeth grinding against each other. “Just…she had reasons.”
“Reasons?”
“It’s not easy on her.”
“Right. Death. Carnage. Sending her boyfriend to hell -- after he killed her classmates, a teacher and then tortured her Watcher. Oh, wait, more than once. Or was leaving Ms. Calendar in the bed just a pre-show.”
“Car. Cordelia. Walking you to it,” Angel said, stepping closer to her, using his bulk to get her to move back down the street. She met his eyes, her heart rate the only sign he had any intimidating effect on the woman, but she was more angry now than scared. Yet she stepped into place next to him and started digging through her purse.
“I thought you wanted to get some guilt off your shoulders, Angel, not boss me around?”
“I get that you’re mad.”
“How long have you been back?”
“I, uh, the days blend. A while.”
“How long as Buffy known?”
“A few weeks, give or take,” Angel guessed.
“But you were starving?” Cordelia snapped, stopping short in her steps and pulling out a cross. “And personal bubble, Angel, out of it!” She thrust the cross into him and he nearly escaped it being slapped against his chest.
He nearly smirked at her actions but guilt at his own stopped him. “I didn’t tell Buffy how bad it was.”
“So she wasn’t feeding you enough, because you were what? Being Mr. Strong Vamp Guy, protecting the little Slayer Woman from your pain?”
Put like that it sounded extremely stupid, Angel thought, but it was much more complicated than that. Buffy had been through hell, sure he’d been in it, but he’d at least deserved it. A monster. He was a monster.
“Pfft.” Cordelia breathed out and moved to lean against the road closed sign near her car. “And Buffy didn’t see through the macho act?”
“Usually, I had blood in me around her. Easier to seem strong and getting stronger.” He watched her, she was calmer again but on guard. Protected and defensive, Cordelia had the two actions honed to a science he realized. Was it just a growing up on the Hellmouth thing? No, Willow and Xander weren’t this practiced at hiding the signs of fear. It was Cordelia being Cordelia, he realized. It was why she’d been able to save herself by helping him. “I owe you…”
“I accept.”
“…a thank you.”
“Oh,” Cordelia started, she hadn’t expected that and the result on her expression was priceless. Unguarded and shock vulnerability was there, for a split second before anger, distrust and confusion sprung back. “What? You are supposed to be alleviating your guilt.”
“I am,” Angel said and he stepped closer unable to stop himself from raising his eyebrows as the cross was thrust up again. “You do know I can knock that out of your hand, little girl?”
Cordelia’s own eyebrows arched and her mouth lifted into a curve. “But we both know you won’t.”
Angel nodded and got as close as he could with the cross erected between them. “You’re right. I was wrong to hide things from Buffy, she would have made sure I had enough blood – and what happened wouldn’t have…I can’t take it back. I can never take anything back…” guilt overwhelmed him. “I’m sorry, it’s all I can offer. And I owe you thanks, because you didn’t run away, you helped me.”
“Was that the right move?” Cordelia whispered, staring at him before her eyes fell onto the cross. “Did I make the right choice?”
Angel’s jaw clenched and he inhaled the night air around them but he refused to take his eyes off of Cordelia. He waited for her to lift her head back up, and look at him. Maybe he’d find an answer in her eyes, he’d know what she wanted from him, what she needed or the truth. Moments ticked by, it almost felt like another century in Hell, but he waited because he didn’t know what to say. Finally Cordelia lifted her head up and their eyes locked and Angel knew if he’d been human the breath would have been knocked out of him. Her eyes held nothing but expectation. All she wanted was his answer.
“I don’t know,” he said, it was all he could give her.
And she smiled and he had to close his eyes to it for a moment, blinking away at what had to be a mirage. But it was still there when his eyes focused on her Cordelia. An open, though tired, sincere smile. “I get that,” she said. “I saw it you know.”
“Saw what?”
“Your soul. Willow, she did the gypsy curse, we thought it wasn’t working, but suddenly her eyes changed, her voice changed, I think she was speaking Romanian or something…and the Orb. It got gold. A shiny gold and it floated, then it vanished. I guess that’s when it went into you. I don’t know. I just know that I knew that she’d conjured your soul.” She drew in a deep breath. “It was terrifying.”
“You saw my soul?” Angel echoed before her words penetrated his mind. “Willow has power, to be able to do…”
“That’s what scary.”
“What?”
“Power like that? It’s the one thing…” Cordelia sighed. “You scared me. Almost as much as Willow did that night. I put those up there with the most terrifying nights of my life. Right on the same list as the time you almost bit me in the cemetery, when they grabbed Giles from the library. It’s funny how there are actually times when I was kidnapped and near death that aren’t on the list, huh?”
“Um, yeah,” Angel said, feeling dizzy trying to keep with her. “Cordelia?”
“I know I went off on a tangent. Anyway, you scared me, Angel. A lot. I thought…then you didn’t.”
“Kill you.”
“Right.”
“You saved yourself. The blood.”
Cordelia met his eyes. “You held back. So, in good faith. Because of what I saw Willow do, what you didn’t do that night…and the fact this isn’t my secret to tell anymore. I won’t say anything. Just count yourself and Buffy likely I never got a chance to tell Giles about last night. Stupid ugly green demons that were rampaging the town, saved your dumb asses.”
Bait. Buffy’s words about her Slaying duty of the day came back to him, guilt and concern took over his actions and without thinking he stepped even closer to Cordelia. Completely, unaware that he could because she’d lowered the cross and touched his fingers under her chin gently. Slowly his fingers moved to her throat, to where he had sliced into her soft skin. He felt the wounds, his eyes latching onto the thin slices no human could see. “I am sorry, Cordelia.”
Her heart was racing, he heard her gulp. “I already accepted.”
“You had to play bait,” he said.
She looked at him confused by where he was going, her heart slowing down as he grew used to his nearness, his fingers on her skin.
“Were you okay, was it okay? I mean…” Angel struggled to find the words for what he wanted to say. He couldn’t find them, he’d already apologized and more words wouldn’t do any good. “You shouldn’t had to have done that after…” he trailed off and forced himself to pull his hand away from her neck.
“Almost being the real victim?” Cordelia finished for him, her eyes following his hand as he pushed it into his coat pocket. She exhaled noisily. “Please! There is a huge difference. I mean for one, Buffy was there. Slayer. What’s better protection. Second, Giles, Xander, Willow and Oz all there too, with weapons. It was no big.” As she spoke she stepped backward, and for the first time he noticed her car had been right behind her all along. “I’ve got to get home.”
“Are you going to tell…”
Cordelia cut him off. “Buffy? That I know about you? Please. No way.”
Angel nodded, thankful and confused by her decision. He hadn’t alleviated any guilt, but he felt a bit better because he’d learned something new. Cordelia Chase impressed him.
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