FIC: Freeze Frame (Angel, Cordelia Chase/Gwen Raiden, PG)
TITLE: Freeze Frame
RATING: PG
FANDOMS: Angel
PAIRING: Cordelia Chase/Gwen Raiden
SUMMARY: LISA is misbehaving. While Fred fixes it, Cordelia entertains Gwen. Set in alternate S5 where the gang moves to Wolfram & Hart, but Cordelia is fine and Fred is fine and everything is sunshine, lollipops, and everything that's wonderful.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for the femslash_minis Cordelia round for punch_kicker15 who requested the pairing with shock, vision, gold, and without any non-con or main character death.
LISA is misbehaving, but Fred says she can fix it. She’s got enough lab that Gwen figures she could probably fix the Space Station, and anyway, she trusts Angel and if he trusts Fred, well.
Gwen allows Cordelia to entertain her while she waits. They are in Cordelia’s apartment, which is upstairs above the law firm and right next to Angel’s-Gwen isn’t sure what that story is, but it’s fun enough to imagine, and if she just sticks around long enough, someone will tell her. Like Cordelia, the apartment is beautiful and refined but not overly fussy. The bed has silk sheets, which is not the first thing Gwen noticed upon entering-that was the sword peeking out from the walk-in closet-but she’s appreciating the hell out of them now. Approximating the thread count probably requires some NASA supercomputer-which Fred might have downstairs, actually-and they are soft as butter against Gwen’s naked body, but not as soft as Cordelia’s bare skin against hers.
“You guys run a helluva hotel,” Gwen says. “Remind me to thank the concierge.”
Cordelia rolls her eyes, and gently pushes a dark strand of Gwen’s hair off her face. They both feel the shock reverberate between them, a closed circuit. Me to you to me to you.
Wait, back up. Pause, rewind.
Fred removes LISA with forceps and places the device carefully in a plastic tray. She is talking a mile a minute on her walk to the bank of machines on the other side of the lab, but Gwen can’t really hear her; once the machine is removed, her body shorts, like overloading a breaker. It’s too much, and the next thing she knows, she’s in Angel’s arms. Fred has stopped talking-everyone has stopped talking-and Angel is lifting Gwen gently from the floor. Everything feels fuzzy and she smells something, tastes something, like burning electrical wire. He lays her gently on one of the lab tables, which is made of metal like in a morgue, and the metal takes some of her energy and fortunately she is awake enough, now, to yell, “Get back!” before someone touches the table and gives themselves a heart attack, and the base of the table goes into a concrete floor, which keeps Angel’s friends from getting electrocuted through their shoes.
“I’m fine,” is the next thing Gwen says, even though Angel is saying something about there being a hospital wing. “I just need to chill.”
Angel walks her upstairs, offers her a pair of his pajamas and turns his back while she changes, the big girl. He is showing her how to work the Pay-Per-View when his Bat Signal or whatever goes off, and they are having an argument in the hallway about how he can stay but she doesn’t need him to when Cordelia appears from next door and says Gwen can stay with her.
Cordelia’s no nonsense gaze goes up and down Gwen in Angel’s huge pajamas.
“I can get her something else to wear, too, Angel, geez,” she says.
Fast forward. Gwen hasn’t spent a lot of time with Angel’s Girl Friday-“Vision Girl,” golden girl, the heart of the operation-but she’s heard enough, and the way Angel looks at Cordelia, he’ll never look at Gwen. She’s not pining over that; Angel is a total honey, and he is a gooooood kisser, but as long as LISA is working, Gwen has plenty of opportunities for kissing, and an ally you can trust is worth a helluva lot more than a cute guy with a good tongue. But Cordelia genuinely interests her, and it turns out she is a gooooood kisser, too.
How Gwen comes by that information is almost hard to see, even on slow motion instant replay.
They are inside Cordelia’s walk-in closet, finding something more, er, fitting for Gwen to wear, when Gwen, still not feeling quite herself, slips on the too-long hem of Angel’s pajamas and brushes against Cordelia. It’s just a brush, not a full on touch, and it’s only a second, and Gwen is praying, please don’t be dead please don’t be dead I’m so sorry please don’t be dead when she realizes Cordelia hasn’t fallen, or shaken. She’s looking a little annoyed is all, but not at Gwen. She rubs at her arm.
“Static electricity is the enemy of sweater season,” she says.
Gwen gapes at her. “What are you?” she asks, and Cordelia looks annoyed, but Gwen is too excited to care.
“Let me try something,” she says, and she grabs Cordelia’s wrist. Gwen feels the electricity thrum through her and into Cordelia, but it echoes right back, like when Gwen touches a live wire.
“Whoa,” Cordelia says.
“This is wild,” Gwen says, and kisses her.
Fast forward. No, wait. Pause.
This is the best part.