Who I Am, What I'll Become Fic 15: The Ends of the Earth (1-5/5)
Title: The Ends of the Earth (1/?): Story 15 in the "Who I Am, What I'll Become" Series
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Cordelia, Angel, Wesley, Gunn, Kate, Oz, Doyle, David, Dennis, Lindsey, Xander, Willow, Buffy, Dawn, Giles, and Spike all belong to Joss Whedon. Liz, Maria, Alex, Max, Michael, Isabel, Tess, Kyle and Nasedo all belong to Melinda Metz and Jason Katims. Clayton is mine. Please don't sue. I'm not making any money.
Rating: PG-13 for language and content
Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" for Angel, and "Destiny" for Roswell and the first 14 stories in this series, especially the first one, "Illusions."
Timeline: The morning/afternoon/evening after the events that took place in story 14, "Things Fall Apart."
Summary: The Angel Investigations gang begins to rebuild itself while Angel looks for a way to make things up to Cordelia and pull her out of her depressed state.
Distribution: Anyone with previous permission to archive the series may take it without asking. Anyone else, just let me know the link.
Category: Story/semi-crossover with Roswell and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Subcategories: Angst/friendship
Keywords: For Angel: None yet, but if you haven't guessed by now, the series has a lot of Cordelia/Angel stuff; a Wesley/Kate pairing is possible but not certain. For Buffy: All the current Buffy couples (though they don't appear that much): Buffy/Riley, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya. For Roswell: Max/Liz, Michael/Maria, Isabel/Alex and it's very probable that in the future there will be a Tess/Kyle pairing.
Feedback: Is always appreciated.
Dedication: For Barbara. Hope you like it! :)
Author's Note: Okay, some of the bumps are behind us, but the road ahead is still long and winding. Cordelia and Angel are still just friends at this point, and will remain so for awhile. I like to take my time with these delicate matters of the heart.
The Ends of the Earth (Part One)
Angel gently covered Cordelia's sleeping form with her bedspread and smoothed her hair back off her face. He backed out of her bedroom and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, rubbing his eyes wearily. He was tired, but it wasn't the same mind-numbing exhaustion he'd been experiencing for the past month.
He moved down the hallway silently and surveyed the living room. Cordelia's suitcase lay open and several of the items that had been inside were scattered about. He hadn't noticed it the night before, but it must have busted open when she kicked it.
There were a few drops of blood on the carpet from where her hand had bled from her injury before he'd noticed it.
Angel grimaced as he picked up the telephone and dialed Wesley's cellular phone.
"Hello?" He answered on the first ring.
"Wesley, it's Angel. I'm still at Cordelia's. Do you think you can come over? We need to talk."
"I'll be right there." Without another word the line went dead.
Angel hung up the receiver and began picking up the things that had tumbled out of Cordelia's suitcase. He folded the clothes neatly and tucked them back into the luggage box for the time being. Then he picked up a framed photo that was lying upside down on the floor and he stared at it.
It was of Wesley, Cordelia and him. She was standing between them, her arms wrapped around them both, a wide smile on her face. They had been at a party at David Nabbit's. Angel hadn't really wanted to go, but somehow she had managed to talk him into it anyway. She had a way of doing that.
He couldn't take his eyes off her beautiful smile. She looked so happy in that picture. That was the way she was supposed to look.
He remembered how hurt she had looked the night before as she accused him of not caring about her, of walking out on her. A fresh onset of guilt settled down on him and he closed his eyes tightly. He hadn't walked out on her. Not exactly. But in her eyes he had. And he hadn't done his job. He hadn't protected her, and he hadn't been there when she needed him.
He was a bastard. She had promised to stand by him, to stay with him until he fulfilled his destiny and became human. She was his seer, his friend, his family, and so much more, and he had let her down. Again.
Angel was so caught up in his guilt that he didn't even hear the knock on the door the first time. When it sounded again, he pulled himself off the floor and opened it. "That was fast," he commented as Wesley walked inside.
"Yes, well. I was just downstairs."
The statement didn't surprise Angel in the least. Wesley was very protective of Cordelia, and he had a feeling that the two of them had grown even closer than they had been before.
"Where is she?"
"Sleeping," Angel said quietly.
"She's all right then?" Wesley pressed.
He looked away. "No thanks to me." He went into the kitchen and got a bottle of Stain-Be-Gone and a rag out of the cabinets. He returned to the living room and sprayed the blood stain with the solution and began scrubbing diligently.
"Is that blood?"
Angel nodded wordlessly.
"Angel, what the hell happened?" Wesley stared at him expectantly.
He sighed. "Her hand started bleeding."
"Then you know."
Angel looked up at him. He was angry that no one had informed him about Cordelia's attack, but mostly the anger was directed at himself for not being available enough to *be* informed. "I know some of it. I was kind of hoping you would fill in the details."
Wesley nodded slightly, then hesitated. "She doesn't know everything," he said quietly.
The statement confused him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean...there are things that we haven't told her. Let me start at the beginning." Wesley sat down on the sofa while Angel continued to sit on the floor, momentarily distracted from his task of getting rid of the blood stain on the carpet.
"The man who attacked Cordelia has killed fifteen women that we know of. There was another attempt, possibly his first victim. She was attacked, dragged to a van and brutally assaulted but managed to escape with her life. She reported to the police that he told her it was time for her descension. He also knew her name.
"All of his victims have been approximately 20 years old and look very similar to Cordelia in appearance. Dark hair, dark eyes, thin, very beautiful. Each of the victims was dumped in an alley after the murder. They all had their throats slit, and had been stabbed numerous times. It seems this man has gotten increasingly violent with each case. The family and friends of all the victims so far have reported personal items missing: a piece of jewelry or a scarf or something of the like."
Wesley paused and took a deep breath. "Cordelia doesn't know about the specifics of the victim's deaths, nor that the killer takes trophies from the victims."
He knew why Wesley had held back part of that information from her. "Nasedo," Angel said quietly, blanching at the memory of seeing Cordelia being stabbed to death by the shape-shifting alien.
"Yes," the former-Watcher said. He looked at Angel carefully. "It happened four evenings ago. Cordelia was walking home from a party when she was attacked. She was knocked to the ground and when she went to reach for her purse to get a stake, thinking she was being attacked by a vampire, he stomped on her hand. He pulled her to her feet and said he'd been watching her and that it was time for her descension. He held a knife to her throat and dragged her to a dark blue van. Oz showed up shortly after."
Angel sat silent on the floor. This was all his fault. If he had been around none of this would have happened. She could have called him and asked for a ride. If he'd been around he may have noticed that someone had been watching her.
"There's more." Wesley hesitated. "Last night, Cordelia told me she lost her grandmother's bracelet. She said she'd been wearing it the night of the attack. It's very likely that this man knows where she lives, where she works, and everything about her. And just the fact that he most likely has her bracelet suggests that he will come after her again."
He stared at Wesley for a long moment, then stood up and turned away, gazing at the picture above Cordelia's mantel but not really seeing it. "I'm staying here with her. Until this guy is caught. Or dead." The thought of ripping out the man's throat caused a jolt of adrenaline to rush through his body. He was pretty sure he wouldn't feel guilty about doing it if he got the opportunity.
"Yes, of course." There was a moment of silence. "Angel."
Angel shook his head, trying to calm his equally growing sense of guilt and rage. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to find the guy before the police did so he could torture and kill him slowly. The fact that Cordelia had almost been raped and murdered and how it would have been his fault for not protecting her balanced those thoughts.
"Angel. You mustn't blame yourself," Wesley said quietly.
He turned to face him. "How can I not, Wesley?" he demanded. "I wasn't there. I didn't help her; I haven't been there for her! This is my fault. It's my job to protect the innocent. How am I supposed to be a warrior for the Powers That Be if I can't even keep my own friends safe? I don't deserve to become human." He sunk down onto a chair and stared at the floor.
Wesley sat down across from him. "Angel. We all make mistakes. You can't take responsibility for someone else's actions. What matters is that you're here now."
He shook his head vigorously. "I let her down. *I* let her down. That's unforgivable."
"I really doubt that Cordelia will agree."
"She was so angry with me, Wesley. I hurt her. Even if I didn't mean to. She should hate me." Angel closed his eyes tightly.
"But she doesn't. Yes, she was angry. Yes, she was hurt. And that's understandable, but she will forgive you."
"I don't deserve her forgiveness. I don't even deserve to be around someone like her. She's good, and innocent, and...I'm a cold blooded killer," he said, knowing his words were true.
"So you're just going to give up then? Let Cordelia fend for herself because *you* feel too ashamed to be around her?" Wesley demanded, his voice taking on an edge that Angel had rarely heard from him.
"That's not what--"
"I know that you feel guilty for not protecting her. And that's fine. I can't do anything about that. It's not your fault, but you're entitled to feel how you feel. However, Cordelia doesn't need to deal with your guilt. She has enough of her own emotional baggage to deal with right now and she can't afford to carry yours, too." Wesley stared at him.
"I know." He looked up at his friend. "I'm sorry that I haven't been around much. But I will take care of Cordelia."
"I believe that." Wesley leaned back against the couch. "Now would you care to tell me what exactly has been going on with *you* lately?"
Angel hesitated. He knew he owed Wesley an explanation for his behavior just as much as he owed one to Cordelia. "I'm not sure how to explain it, Wesley."
"Try."
He sighed. "I've been really...exhausted lately. Since I moved out of here and into the Hyperion. I've been having these dreams..."
Wesley frowned. "Go on."
"I've been dreaming about Darla."
"Your sire Darla?" The surprise was evident in his tone.
"Yeah. And when I wake up, it's like I can still sense her somehow. Like it wasn't all a dream. Almost like she was really there."
"Angel," Wesley began.
"I know it's impossible. I staked her myself. I know that." He remembered that day very well. "But these dreams have been very...vivid." He looked at Wesley, who appeared to be lost in thought. "What are you thinking?"
"Well, perhaps there is something at the hotel that is affecting you. We got rid of the demon that was residing there for fifty years, but there's no sure way to know that another one hasn't decided to take up residence in its place. What confuses me is that you're the only one who seems to be affected. Gunn and the others have been fine as far as I know." Wesley's frown deepened. "It's worth checking into."
Angel shook his head. "If there's something there that's only after me, I don't want you to worry about it."
"Angel--"
"I'll be staying here with Cordelia anyway. Right now I want you to focus on helping Kate find this killer that's after Cordy. That's all that matters. We'll worry about me and the sleep-inducing demon later," he said firmly.
Wesley nodded in agreement and stood up. "I'm going to head back to the Hyperion now and warn the others just in case this thing decides to bother someone else while you're away. We need to be careful since we don't really know what we're dealing with."
"Good idea."
He headed for the door. "Tell her I'll see her soon."
"Will do. And Wesley?"
"Yes?"
"I am sorry," Angel said sincerely.
Wesley smiled slightly. "Consider it the past." And without another word he walked out of the apartment, leaving Angel to return to his task of stain-removal.
* * *
Part Two
Kate Lockley stretched her arms above her head as she walked down the stairs of the Hyperion and into the lobby. She smiled slightly as she saw Wesley sitting at the front desk studying the files again. "Good morning."
He looked up. "Good morning. Sleep well?"
"Actually, yeah," she admitted. She had been averaging two to three hours sleep a night for the past week and last night Gunn had convinced her that she needed to rest. And she had. She'd gotten a full eight hours of sleep and was now brimming with energy. "How about you? Did you get any sleep?"
Wesley sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. "I dozed a couple of times in the lobby of Cordelia's apartment building."
"How is she?"
"She was still sleeping when I spoke with Angel earlier."
"Then I assume that they talked?"
He nodded. "Apparently. He didn't go into much detail. He's feeling very guilty."
"Then he knows about--?"
"Yes. He knows all of it, thank God," Wesley murmured. He blinked and shook his head. "I'm sorry. Would you like some coffee?"
Kate nodded. "Coffee would be great." She watched as he poured her a cup and then handed it to her. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." He took a deep breath. "The killer may not be our only problem."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
"Angel said he's been feeling very, well...drained of energy since he moved in here. Which explains why he's been sleeping so much."
Kate stared at him and waited for him to continue.
"I think that perhaps there may be some kind of demon residing here that's been feeding off his energy."
Adrenaline immediately surged through her veins. "Has this been happening to anyone else?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"But why would a demon only feed off Angel when there's all these other people staying here?" she asked, confused. "I mean, demons don't tend to discriminate against who they kill."
"Maybe it's not trying to kill him," Wesley said quietly, frowning. "Maybe it's targeted him for a specific reason. At any rate, he's going to be staying at Cordelia's for awhile. As long as no one else has problems, our first priority must be to find this serial killer."
Kate nodded in agreement, then hesitated. "What if it tries following Angel?"
"Then our priorities will shift." Their eyes met and she settled down at the desk next to him, working side-by-side.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lindsey McDonald stared out across the city from his office window. "I knew this would happen," he said, barely able to contain the anger he was feeling.
"Calm down, Lindsey," Holland said with a smile.
"Calm down? Darla can't reach Angel when he's staying at the girl's apartment. There's no access!"
In her corner of the room, hidden in the shadows, Darla smiled. "There doesn't need to be."
He turned to face her. "You can't go in unless she invites you."
"I'm aware of that, Lindsey," she said softly. "Haven't you ever heard the expression that patience is a virtue?"
Lindsey stared at her for a long moment.
"We can wait...I'm not going anywhere and neither is Angel. Let him have his human holiday with his new family. It will be his last." Darla smiled knowingly.
And though it was against his better instincts, he believed her. Lindsey smiled back.
* * *
Part Three
Cordelia stared at her answering machine. The little red button was flashing furiously, demanding attention. With a weary sigh, she hit play.
"You have 8 messages," the electronic voice informed her.
"Oh, goody," she said, rolling her eyes.
Beep. "Cordelia, this is Buffy." Cordelia raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Look, I'm really sorry about what I said when you were here. I was way out of line and I'm sorry. I just wanted to call and tell you that."
Beep. "Cordelia, this is Liz. I hadn't talked to you in awhile and I just wanted to say hi."
Beep. "Cordy, it's Xander. Calling to see how you were. Uh...I'll call back later. Bye."
Beep. "Hey, Cor. It's Aura. I was just calling to tell you that you should have seen what Lily MacEnzie was wearing to Ben's party last night! You wouldn't believe it. Call me!"
Beep. "Cordelia, dear. It's your mother. I thought I'd let you know that your father and I are spending Christmas with your aunt and uncle in Europe. It's going to be so wonderful! If I'm not too busy I'll try to call back. Happy holidays, darling."
"Yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too, Mom," she muttered, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.
Beep. "Cordy, it's Xander again. Are you *ever* home?"
She smiled despite herself.
Beep. "Cordelia, it's Liz. I sent you an email, but I'm not sure if you got it. Anyway, I'm having a New Year's Eve party at the Crashdown. I know you probably can't come because of work and everything, but I wanted to invite you guys anyway. Talk to you later."
Beep. "Cordy, are you there?" It was Xander yet again. "Is everything okay? Look, I'm getting worried. Call me when you get this message okay?"
"End of messages."
Cordelia picked up her telephone receiver and dialed the new phone number he'd given her when he was in L.A. a few weeks ago.
He picked up on the second ring. "Xander's House of Horrors. How may I assist you?"
She rolled her eyes. "Nice greeting, Xander."
"Cordy! Hey, is everything okay? Cause I tried to call you like a million times." His voice was concerned.
Cordelia was tempted to tell him what was going on but she resisted. There wasn't anything he could do anyway. "I know. I got your messages. Everything's fine. What's up?"
"Well, I was kind of wondering about your holiday plans."
"Ask her!" she heard Willow whisper in the background.
"Because we were all going to get together on Christmas Eve and hang out. We were wondering if you could come," Xander finished.
"It's nice of you to offer, but--"
"I'll be doing the Snoopy dance."
She smiled. "I can't. There's stuff here going on and I don't think it's a good time to leave town."
"It's not the end of the world again, is it?"
"No, nothing like that," Cordelia assured him.
"I wanna say hi!"
"Okay, hang on. Dawn's here and she wants to talk to you," Xander informed her.
"Hi, Cordy!"
"Hi, Dawn. How are you?"
"I'm fine. So you really can't come?" The girl sounded disappointed.
"I wish I could, but it's just not possible right now."
"That sucks. Well, Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Dawn."
The phone was handed over to Xander again. His voice was lowered when he spoke this time. "So are you really okay? You sound kind of tired."
"I'm all right. Thanks for the invitation."
"Sure. I wish you could come, though. Do, uh, you and Angel and Wesley have plans?"
Cordelia felt tears sting her eyes. "Yeah. We're having this whole big dinner party thing with some of our friends here," she lied.
"Oh. Well, that sounds like fun."
"Yeah," she answered vaguely. "It'll be great. Hey, can you do me a favor?"
"Sure."
"Tell Buffy I got her message and it's okay."
"Will do," he promised.
"I have to go, Xander. Talk to you soon?" She was on the verge of crying.
"Yeah, definitely. Cordelia, are you sure you're all right?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the tears. "Yep. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, too."
Cordelia hung up the phone and buried her face in her hands.
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Angel had been taking a nap, and after only two hours, he woke up feeling refreshed and energized for the first time in weeks. He had heard her talking on the telephone in the kitchen and although he hadn't really meant to eavesdrop, he couldn't help himself. He leaned against the doorframe and stared at her. She didn't notice him, too caught up in her conversation with Xander.
"I'm all right. Thanks for the invitation," Cordelia said, her voice a bit unsteady as her fingers traced invisible patterns on the kitchen table. He wondered what invitation she'd just received. "Yeah. We're having this whole big dinner party thing with some of our friends here," she said. That's when he saw the tears start to form in her eyes.
He swallowed hard. She was pale, still visibly drained from their confrontation the previous night, and from the stress of the past few weeks.
"It'll be great. Hey, can you do me a favor? Tell Buffy I got her message and it's okay."
Angel frowned, wondering what that was about.
"I have to go, Xander. Talk to you soon?" He watched as she closed her eyes and tried to keep her voice steady. "Yep. Merry Christmas." She hung up the phone and buried her face in her hands.
For a long moment, he debated about what to do. She obviously had no idea he was standing there and he wasn't sure if she was in the mood for company. She had been fairly silent at breakfast earlier, though she had thanked him for the pancakes and bacon he'd fixed for her. He decided to take a chance.
"Hey," he said quietly as he stepped forward into the room.
Cordelia quickly wiped her eyes and turned to look at him. "Hey."
Angel sat down at the table across from her. "Xander?"
She nodded. "He invited me to a Christmas party."
So that's what the invitation was for. "That was nice."
"Yeah."
There was an awkward silence. He looked at her, but she refused to meet his eyes. "Cordelia?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you want to go back to Sunnydale for Christmas?" Angel hoped she said no, then felt badly for being selfish.
"No. I'm not really in the Christmas spirit. I'd just bring everyone else down." Cordelia stood up. "I think I'm going to take a nap. I'm kind of tired again." She left the kitchen and a moment later he heard her bedroom door close.
Angel sighed. He certainly wasn't making much progress with getting their friendship back on track. He stared at the blinking red light on the answering machine. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and hit play.
Beep. "Cordelia, this is Buffy." He leaned forward to listen closely. "Look, I'm really sorry about what I said when you were here. I was way out of line and I'm sorry. I just wanted to call and tell you that."
He frowned, wondering what had happened.
Beep. "Cordelia, this is Liz. I hadn't talked to you in awhile and I just wanted to say hi."
Beep. "Cordy, it's Xander. Calling to see how you were. Uh...I'll call back later. Bye."
Beep. "Hey, Cor. It's Aura. I was just calling to tell you that you should have seen what Lily MacEnzie was wearing to Ben's party last night! You wouldn't believe it. Call me!"
Beep. "Cordelia, dear. It's your mother. I thought I'd let you know that your father and I are spending Christmas with your aunt and uncle in Europe. It's going to be so wonderful! If I'm not too busy I'll try to call back. Happy holidays, darling."
He glared at the machine in disgust.
Beep. "Cordy, it's Xander again. Are you *ever* home?"
Beep. "Cordelia, it's Liz. I sent you an email, but I'm not sure if you got it. Anyway, I'm having a New Year's Eve party at the Crashdown. I know you probably can't come because of work and everything, but I wanted to invite you guys anyway. Talk to you later."
Angel smiled. He wondered how Liz and Max and everyone were doing.
Beep. "Cordy, are you there?" It was Xander yet again. "Is everything okay? Look, I'm getting worried. Call me when you get this message okay?"
"End of messages."
He thought for a moment. Then he picked up the telephone and dialed a number.
"Crashdown Cafe. This is Maria. How can I help you?"
"Maria, this is Angel."
"Hi! What's up?"
"I'm at Cordy's...is Liz there?"
"Yeah, hang on." A second later, he heard her yell in a muffled voice, "Liz! It's Angel!"
"Angel?"
"Hi."
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, it's fine, sort of. Uh, so you're having a New Year's Eve party?"
"Yep. Can you guys make it?"
"I think so. Cordelia's been kind of...stressed out lately, and I'm hoping that it might cheer her up."
"Is she okay?" Liz asked, obviously concerned.
"I don't know. And...I'm not going to tell her until Christmas, so if you talk to her--"
"Not a word from me. No problem," she agreed quickly.
Angel smiled. "Thanks, Liz."
"You're welcome. You probably won't need directions. There's not many businesses in Roswell."
"That's fine. We'll find it."
"Great! Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas."
* * *
Part Four
Cordelia stared up at her bedroom ceiling, her eyes fixed on a dark spot in the corner. She wasn't really tired. She'd just used that as an excuse to get away from Angel, to get away from the awkwardness that lingered between them.
She used to be so good at pretending like nothing was wrong, at ignoring the obvious. Of course, she'd had a great deal of practice. Her mother had taught her at a young age how to "act like a lady." That, by her mother's definition, was "not giving in to inappropriate displays of emotion," followed closely by the important lessons of how to dress and smile correctly in order to get a rich, respectable man to marry her. Not love her, just marry her.
"There is no such thing as love, Cordelia, dear," her mother had told her. "Don't believe in anything that's not tangible, except power. And the way to gain power is through money. That's what dreams are made of. That's what will bring you whatever your heart desires."
She had nodded, staring at her mother in the mirror as she braided Cordelia's hair and prepared her for her first cotillion. And being the eight year old girl that she was, the only thing that she wanted was to make her mother happy, so she had taken great pride in her looks and in the ability to attract the attention of men even at a young age.
Her mother had told her there was no such thing as love...
...and Cordelia had believed her. There were no fairy tales when she was growing up. No one had read her bedtime stories about Cinderella and her prince, or Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White or the Little Mermaid. She saw her first Disney movie at Aura's house when they were thirteen. Beauty and the Beast. Aura hadn't understood why she'd been so taken by the movie, or why she had insisted on seeing every other Disney production ever made that same weekend.
But after that, she'd found a spark of hope that love did exist. It was tiny, but there. She'd had to repress the belief for years to avoid slipping up in front of her mother. So she'd sealed it away in a dark, hidden corner of her soul and forgotten about it for a long time.
She had dated many guys in high school, and most of them only wanted one thing. They had bought her act and believed she was just a beautiful, shallow rich girl who had no feelings. She wasn't stupid. She knew what they said about her behind her back and it hurt. Not that she ever let anyone see just how much it hurt.
Never let them see your pain. Something else her mother had taught her.
She had become very good at pretending like nothing got to her. And she had managed to be exactly what her mother wanted her to be: a beautiful, classy, popular girl that got a lot of attention from the guys.
Until she fell for Xander Harris.
And after that, nothing had ever been the same.
Her parents, expectedly, had disapproved. After all, Xander's parents weren't in a position of power and they were far from wealthy. They'd even tried forbidding her to see him.
That hadn't worked, obviously. She'd been very attracted to him--not just physically--but because when everything on the outside was stripped away, they were a lot alike.
Xander's parents were far from supportive and nurturing. He'd never had much affection growing up and so he had a difficult time expressing affection.
That had been the most difficult part of their relationship: they both had so many defenses built up around them, it was hard to tear them all down. It made communication nearly impossible.
She had tried so hard to break through her own defenses, to let her guard down and admit how she felt about him. But undoing years of taught detachment had taken too long.
//I spent a year in the mouth of a whale
With a flame and a book of signs
You'll never know how hard I failed
Trying to make up for lost time//
Cordelia had learned the hard way that even though love wasn't tangible, it did exist. She knew it did because she had felt it. Every moment when she was with Xander, every moment she was without him, she wanted to be closer. Maybe it was pathetic in her mother's mind. Not that she ever *told* her mother she loved him. Not that she could have.
She had admitted it once to Buffy, though, totally by accident. They had been alone in a cabin in the woods, hiding from Slayer hunters that were after them. She had been...well, panicking, and it had just slipped out. Buffy had been surprised and Cordelia had tried to make it sound like it was no big deal.
But it was a big deal.
And when she had found out that Xander had been cheating on her with Willow...she never knew loving someone could hurt that much. It was worse than the physical pain of being impaled. That she could take painkillers for and the ache in her stomach would disappear for awhile.
But there was no painkiller strong enough to make the ache in her heart go away.
//Once I believed in things unseen
I was blinded by the dark
Out of the multitude to me
He came and broke my heart//
He had tried to apologize. He had brought her flowers at the hospital. Called her every single day for a week at least ten times a day. He'd sent more flowers, candy, stuffed animals, and even jewelry. She had sent it all back to him and ignored his phone calls.
She blamed herself more than she really did him. She had known all along that he didn't return her feelings. Sure, he cared about her and he liked making out with her, but he had never loved her.
Xander had been in love with Buffy since she moved to Sunnydale. He never admitted it, at least until recently, but it was obvious by the way he acted. Anytime Buffy was in any kind of trouble, Xander was the first person to want to take action and go help her--even if it meant rushing in without a plan and risking his own life. Then, of course, there was his extreme jealousy and hatred of Angel. It was so obvious how he felt for Buffy.
And then there was Willow Rosenberg. She'd been Xander's best friend since they were five years old. They could communicate without speaking. And just as it was completely obvious how Xander felt about Buffy, anyone with eyes could see that Willow had had similar feelings towards Xander.
She should have seen it coming. The signs were all there. Xander and Willow had both been acting jumpy and on edge for weeks. They were nervous about being around each other. It should have been so easy to see. But when you're in love with someone--really, truly in love--it's amazing what you can deceive yourself into believing.
If she and Oz hadn't caught them in the middle of a heated kiss, Cordelia may have gone on deceiving herself forever.
But she had caught them. Any trust she'd had for Xander had gone down in flames. And no matter how good she was at ignoring things, the fact that he didn't love her--that he would rather be with Buffy or Willow, or even Faith--was something that not even she could ignore any longer.
So she broke up with him. She closed herself off. And after graduation, she left town as fast as she could.
//Tell my ma I loved the man
Even though I turned and ran
Lovely and fine I could have been
Laying down in the palm of his hand
Laying down in the palm of his hand
Laying down in the palm of his hand
Staying down in the palm of his hand//
Cordelia had chosen L.A.--the City of Angels--thinking that surely in a city that big she could find a job acting. She'd had two commercials, local ones, and had gotten an agent. She'd attended dozens of auditions and screenings and callbacks. But those two commercials were all she ever got.
The money she'd made from them lasted one month. After that, she had to try and find a job that didn't require a college education and didn't discriminate against her because of her parents' tax evasion. She finally got a job as a waitress at a cafe a couple blocks away from her apartment.
That lasted one week. Some jerk harassed her all evening one Friday and then wound up sliding his hand under the skirt of her uniform. She hadn't hesitated in dumping an entire plate of hot spaghetti on his head.
Cordelia hadn't been too surprised when she'd gotten fired less than fifteen minutes later.
She spent the next month sneaking into Hollywood parties just so she could have something to eat.
She'd met up with Angel at one of those parties. She'd never been so relieved and so terrified to see someone in her entire life. Not terrified because she thought he'd gone evil or anything. Terrified because she hadn't wanted *anyone* she knew seeing her in her current lifestyle. She'd been reduced to complete poverty, a failure to her parents, to herself, to everyone who ever told her she'd make it big one day. She was living in a run-down, roach-infested building on a really bad side of town, stealing food to survive, lying to get into parties to steal said food.
The very thought of anyone from Sunnydale finding out what she'd become was enough to make her blood run cold.
She'd been relieved to see Angel because she didn't know anyone in L.A. Oh, sure, she'd met agents and other hopeful Hollywood-bound people, but no one *knew* her. No one cared to. No one even knew her name. She was just another face trying to make it in showbiz. No one special. She'd been completely alone.
So when Cordelia had heard the familiar voice say her name, her eyes had widened and she'd spun around to face him.
And there he was. His eyes were warm and his smile friendly. For a moment she'd been overwhelmed with emotion--like a person who'd been lost at sea for years and had just been found.
The relief rapidly changed into fear and her defenses rose automatically. When he'd asked where she was living, she'd lied and said something about a condo on the beach. And she had ended the conversation shortly afterwards. She hadn't figured she'd ever run into him again, so she had pushed all her thoughts of his friendly face out of her mind. At least, until a couple days later.
Russell Winters had been so easy to talk to. Or maybe she was so hungry and so desperate for a friend, she'd simply ignored all the initial warning signs at first. There had been dark curtains everywhere, and there were no mirrors, and the guy was very pale...it should have tipped her off immediately. She'd put it together eventually, but it was almost not soon enough. Just as he was about to make her his next meal, a familiar voice had spoken from the shadows, "Russell Winters."
She'd known without thinking who had spoken. And it was at that moment she had known. She had known she wasn't going to die. At least not right then. Because Angel was there.
He would protect her.
And he had. He had fought with Winters but had been unable to dust him right then. He had thrown himself in front of her when Winters' hit men had started shooting in her direction. Angel had turned, swiftly swept her into his arms and literally jumped over the railing to get her out of the line of fire. He'd taken five bullets that night. For her.
When Angel went out again to finish what he'd started with Winters, Doyle had filled her in about Angel's mission to help people. She'd started thinking that running into Angel at that party hadn't just been a coincidence. It may have been easier to dismiss as chance if he hadn't ended up saving her life just two days later. What was the likelihood of running into someone she knew from Sunnydale twice in two days in a big city like L.A? And the fact that she knew the truth about what he was, and that she knew about all the things that went bump in the night just made it seem like her place was to help him help other people.
So Cordelia had insinuated herself into his life. And to her surprise, he hadn't protested. He'd hired her to be his secretary at Angel Investigations.
Her office skills had been...lacking for awhile. But Angel didn't seem to mind. He hadn't gotten disgusted with her because she was unable to hack into other computer systems or type as fast as Willow. He hadn't been upset because she lacked Buffy's superpowers. He'd just taken her in, protected her, and paid her well even when she didn't do that much at first.
They had been friends, but distant ones. Angel had brooded over Buffy a lot in the first few months of opening the agency, and after a couple of failed attempts to drag him out of it, she had focused on her own life.
Doyle's death had brought them together. Nothing had been the same after he died. Angel had become more protective of her than ever, and she had found her own defenses lowering. They'd started counting on one another to pull each other through the difficult times. Sure, they occasionally got on one another's nerves, but they had become close friends. Cordelia had never really had a best friend before, and she had a feeling Angel hadn't either, so it was a new experience for both of them.
She used to be so good at hiding her real feelings, at pretending to be someone she wasn't. She'd always been afraid of letting down her guard, of allowing someone to see her. Because the sad truth was, whenever someone had believed her little facade and openly admitted to disliking her, she knew it was okay because that wasn't the *real* her. The real her was someone she'd kept hidden from everyone, even herself at times. Because to let her real self be revealed would have left her vulnerable to people disliking who she really was and that was...scary.
Angel saw right through the act. No matter how hard she'd tried to hide what she felt, he always seemed to know. Eventually she'd just given up. And for the first time in her entire life, she let her defenses fall away completely. And the amazing part was...Angel still cared for her. He was still her friend. And so was Wesley. They accepted her. Even when she made the occasional tactless remark, they didn't try to change her. They'd become a family. A real one.
The one she never had.
//River is wide and oh so deep
And it winds and winds around
I dream we're happy in my sleep
Floating down and down and down
And the tide rushes by where we stand
And the earth underneath turns to sand
And we're waiting for someone to see
Don't bail on me//
Wesley's presence in her life had been unexpected. He had shown up in town the day after Doyle had died. Almost like he was sent by the PTB. Of course, she'd first met Wesley in Sunnydale. He'd been Giles' replacement as Buffy and Faith's Watcher. She'd had a crush on him for awhile, and had flirted with him every chance she got. That had a lot to do with the fact that Xander had been around most of those times, and she'd still been hurting and angry with him for his little tryst with Willow while they'd been dating. But she really had liked Wesley. Things were over for them before they started, especially when they shared their first kiss. There was just nothing there. No spark, no passion. They'd both been disappointed, but sometimes that was just life.
The memory brought a smile to her face.
Of course, now things between them were strictly platonic. He'd helped fill that empty space in her heart that Doyle's death had left behind. Not fill it completely, though. No one could do that. Doyle would always hold a special place in her heart, and no one could ever replace him. Wesley held his own place in her heart.
Angel and Wesley. She had grown to depend on them. More than she had ever depended on anyone in her entire life, her parents included. She counted on them for support, protection, and acceptance. And in return she loved them both unconditionally. That was, after all, what a family was about.
There was only one thing wrong with loving people. A lesson that she had learned time and again from the age of five years old when her grandmother died from a heart attack, to Xander's betrayal, to her parents skipping town to avoid prison, to Doyle's death.
Everyone left eventually. Death, betrayal, flat-out rejection. Didn't matter what the cause was, nothing made it easier. And it always happened.
It was just a matter of when.
It scared her more than anything. The fact that she could lose either of them at any given time. After all, it wasn't like the job they did was safe. They all risked their lives for the cause--Angel, Wesley, even her. It was what they did. Risked their lives to save others. That's why the PTB brought them all together. That and she liked to think that maybe they all needed one another, and the Powers had seen that and allowed them to become a family.
That was part of the reason the past month had been so hard. Angel had been so distant. He'd seemingly shut her out of his life for no apparent reason. Sure, Wesley had still been there, for which she was grateful. But when someone you love does something out of the blue like start sleeping 16 hours a day and refusing to tell you what's wrong, frustration and hurt start to build up. And no matter how many other people you're around that care about you, until things are made right with that one person, the whole world is off-balance.
Memories of the previous night flooded into her mind.
She had been so angry with him, with the world. He'd tried to apologize and she'd reamed him for it. She'd tried to kick him out, say nasty things to him to get him to leave, and...
Oh god.
She'd threatened him with holy water.
Cordelia sat up in bed, pressing one hand over her mouth as tears stung her eyes. She'd actually threatened Angel with holy water.
He was her best friend, part of the only family she had, one of the only people she'd ever felt completely safe with and felt a sense of belonging with. He'd saved her life so many times and she'd threatened to take his.
And then she'd thrown the whole-Buffy-disaster back in his face. Yeah, a great friend she was.
//When the dust in the field has flown
And the youngest of hearts has grown
And you doubt you will ever be free
Don't bail on me//
She was on her feet and out the bedroom door before she even realized she was moving. She didn't see Angel sitting outside her bedroom until she'd literally tripped over him.
He reached out and caught her before she slammed onto the ground, a startled expression on his face. "Cordelia! Are you all right?"
Cordelia nodded wordlessly and threw her arms around him. "Angel, I am so sorry," she whispered, struggling to fight the tears that were still in her eyes.
Angel's arms slid around her waist and he rested one hand on her back. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I'm the one who's sorry."
She shook her head and pulled away to look at him. "I was horrible to you last night."
"No, you were honest. I've been a huge jerk for the past few weeks. You didn't say or do anything that you didn't have a right to say and do."
"I threatened you with holy water." As soon as the words passed her lips, she started to cry, feeling more ashamed of herself than she ever remembered feeling.
Angel pulled her to him and she buried her face in his shoulder. "You did that once before, remember?" His voice was light and she knew he was trying to make her feel better.
"Yeah, but you were all evil then. That doesn't count," Cordelia answered miserably. "And besides, then it wasn't really holy water. It was just bottled water."
"But I thought it was holy water. You had me pretty convinced."
"You weren't evil last night. And what I did...what I said...was unforgivable." She felt a new round of tears building up.
"Hey." Angel gently took her by the arms and made her look at him. "You did it to me. I'm the one who gets to decide what's forgivable and what's not, all right? So just stop talking like that right now." He looked at her seriously.
"Angel--"
"I mean it, Cordelia. I feel guilty enough about not being there for you for the past month. I don't really want to feel more guilty because I know you feel guilty."
She stared at him. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guiltier about anything. God knew he had enough guilt for everyone around them.
"So we're clear?" he asked firmly. "No more guilt trips for you? Please?"
Cordelia bit her lip and nodded slightly. He smiled at her. A smile she rarely saw. One that rarely anyone ever saw. She leaned against him and relaxed. She felt a bit better, but not completely. "Are we okay then?" she asked quietly.
Angel rested his chin on the top of her head. "I'm okay if you are."
She closed her eyes as his one of his hands supported her back and the other stroked her hair gently. "Then we're okay." And she meant it.
As long as they were friends, everything would be okay.
//In the morning you wait for the sun
And secretly hope it won't come
But time washes everyone clean
Honey now, don't bail on me
Don't bail on me
Don't bail on me//
* * *
Part Five
"You know what I hate about Christmas in California?" Cordelia asked later that evening as Angel helped her wind purple garland around her seven and a half foot Christmas tree. "It never snows. My parents and I used to go to Colorado every year during the holidays so we could have a white Christmas. Of course, that was *before* they got caught cheating on their taxes."
Then there had been last year. Doyle had died right before the holidays. She had put up a strand of lights and a tabletop tree in a feeble attempt to get into the holiday spirit. Of course, when the big day came, she hadn't had any sleep and instead of celebrating she'd gone in to work. Angel hadn't questioned why she came in on a holiday. They'd just sat silently, at their separate desks, lost in their own thoughts.
She stepped back and examined the tree with a critical eye. "It needs bulbs."
"It is kind of bare," he agreed.
"There's a box of decorations in the guest room closet. I think it's on the top shelf. Could you--?"
"Got it," Angel replied as he headed down the hallway.
She picked up the tree topper she'd set on her coffee table and studied it. It was a beautiful angel that had a porcelain face and hands and was trimmed in silver. It had been her grandmother's. And since she lost her bracelet, it was the only thing she had left of her grandmother.
Cordelia took a deep breath and climbed up the ladder she usually stored in the hall closet. She reached over and carefully placed the angel on top of the tree, adjusting it so it was perfectly balanced. She sighed softly, trying to push aside the sad feeling that kept tugging at her. She and Angel had made up. There was no reason left to be sad.
Right?
The room tilted as a sudden wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. She quickly clutched onto the ladder rung for support and leaned her forehead against the top step, squeezing her eyes shut.
"I don't see any bulbs," she heard Angel say from the guest room.
She didn't even try to respond as she took a slow deep breath and opened her eyes back up.
Now the room wasn't just tilting. It was spinning. The pretty lights on her Christmas tree melded together with the lamp light, creating a colorful blurred array of brightness. Her grip on the rung slipped.
"Cordelia!"
She knew she was falling, but she never hit the ground. Instead, a pair of strong arms caught her and surrounded her.
Cordelia blinked against the lights and then gazed up at Angel, who was cradling her against him like one would cradle an infant. He was staring at her, his face riddled with worry.
How did he move so fast? she wondered.
"Cordelia, are you okay? What happened?"
She nodded weakly. "I just...got dizzy."
His gaze left her face and traveled up the height of the ladder. "What were you doing?"
"Putting the angel on the tree," she mumbled.
"I would have done that. Are you all right? Do you feel sick?" he asked in concern.
"No. I'm all right." Cordelia became very aware that she was still cradled in his arms. Her heart thudded a bit faster at the realization. She shifted slightly; Angel understood and carefully set her on her feet. Her knees buckled almost instantly.
"Whoa, easy. Take it easy." He slid his arm around her waist and guided her to the couch. She sank down onto the sofa and Angel sat down next to her, keeping his arm around her waist. He frowned and touched her forehead with his other hand. "You don't have a fever." He tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear.
Cordelia felt her breath catch in the back of her throat as she stared at him. "I'm...I'm all right," she reiterated. She quickly turned away from his gaze and leaned back against the back of the couch and shut her eyes. She focused on taking deep, relaxing breaths.
"Maybe I should take you to the hospital."
Her eyes flew open at his words. "No way! Angel, I'm fine. I just got dizzy. It happens."
Angel studied her doubtfully. "I don't know..."
"I hate hospitals. I'm not sick. And by the time one of the doctors in the e.r. got around to checking me out, it would be morning and you'd have to spend the whole day there to avoid becoming a crispy critter," Cordelia pointed out.
He smiled slightly, but before he had a chance to respond, the telephone rang. She started to get up, but he quickly shook his head and gave her a stern look. "I got it." Cordelia watched as he crossed the room and stepped into the kitchen. "Hello?" There was a pause. "Uh, yeah. She's right here. Hang on a minute." He walked back into the living room, his hand covering up the mouthpiece of her portable phone. "It's your mom."
She held back a grimace as she took the phone from him. "Hi, Mom."
"Cordelia, dear, who was that?"
She glanced up at Angel, who was examining the knick-knacks on her fireplace mantel. "Oh, that was Angel."
"That detective you work with? What on earth is he doing at your apartment?" her mother demanded.
"We're friends."
"Sure you are, darling. I take it you blew things with Clayton then?" There was an accusing tone to her voice.
Cordelia swallowed hard and stared down at her hands, unable to answer.
"Of course. I expected no less. Well, there went your father's and my only chance at returning to California." Her mother sighed heavily. "Why is it you can't make any decent relationships work, Cordelia? You're a Chase, for godsakes. You're ruining our family name, dear."
She bit her lip and changed the subject. "How are you and Daddy?"
"We're wonderful. Europe is just lovely this time of year. It's really too bad your Hollywood career didn't work out. Maybe you could have afforded to come and join us for the holidays if you made decent money."
"I get by," Cordelia said quietly.
"But getting by isn't the road to happiness, dear. You were supposed to be a star. Your father and I paid for so many classes for you when you were younger. Why is it that after all of our hard work you turned out to be...well, such a failure?"
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. Years of sniping at classmates and friends and standing up for herself against demons and vampires and she couldn't even stand up to her own mother. How pathetic am I? she wondered.
"Anyway, I just called to tell you Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," Cordelia echoed.
"I'll call again soon, dear."
"Can't wait." She punched the off button on the portable phone and stood up.
Angel turned around to face her, his expression unreadable.
"Well," she said with false cheerfulness. "I'm going to take a shower. I feel all icky." She met his eyes for a split second. In that second she could see the genuine concern and sympathy he felt for her and she turned away, feeling ashamed. She walked down the hall without waiting for a response.
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Angel glared at the telephone that set on Cordelia's coffee table. He hadn't been trying to listen to her conversation. Really he hadn't. He didn't have control over the fact that his senses, including his ability to hear voices over electronic wires while standing across the room, were keener than humans'.
He'd never met Cordelia's parents. And he hoped like hell he never had to. He wasn't sure he'd retain the ability to stay civil and be polite.
How could her mother be so callous?
The breakup with Clayton hadn't been Cordelia's fault. The bastard had cheated on her. Was she supposed to stay with him anyway?
Anger welled up within him. No wonder it was so hard for Cordelia to trust people. Among her parents and what had happened with Xander and Wilson Christopher and Clayton, he couldn't blame her for being unable to let down her defenses. He paced the room angrily. And he had added to it. He'd hurt her by keeping her at a distance while he dreamt of Darla.
He paused in front of her fireplace again. His eyes were drawn back to the three small trophies that were lined up. Each one had a golden horse on top of it. He wondered why he'd never noticed them until tonight. The first one read:
Cordelia Chase
First Place
Sunnydale Equestrian Competition
1995
The other two were the same, except the dates were 1996 and 1997. He ran his fingers along the engraving.
From the bathroom he could hear the sound of running water, and he worried briefly that she might fall and hurt herself if she got dizzy again. He had a feeling that Dennis would make him aware of that fact if it happened, though. He looked towards the ladder and shook his head slowly. He wondered what had caused the dizziness. She wasn't running a fever, so...
Angel rolled his eyes in disgust. She hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, and she'd only picked at the eggs and pancakes he'd fixed for her. No wonder she'd fallen.
He moved into the kitchen, still feeling angry with Cordelia's mother. Didn't she understand that even though Cordelia didn't make a lot of money, that she was doing something more important? That she was helping people, saving innocent lives?
Cordelia was ruining the Chase family name. Angel snorted. Yeah, right. Cordelia had nothing to do with the ruination of the Chase name. They'd done fine ruining it themselves when they'd cheated on their taxes for 18 years.
He really didn't like Cordy's mother.
Angel pulled open the refrigerator and grimaced at the week-old greasy pizza box and flat orange soda that was inside. He pulled them both out, tossing the pizza in the trash and pouring the flat drink down the kitchen drain. Then he rummaged through cupboards. A few cans of soup, a box of macaroni and cheese, a box of Cheerio's, a couple of cake mixes...nothing that could vaguely constitute a decent dinner.
He paused and thought back to the moment he'd caught Cordelia as she fell from the ladder. She had lost weight. Not a lot, but she was thin to start with, so it wouldn't take much for her to become pretty weak and tired from lack of food.
A new burst of anger flooded over him. He stormed into the living room and grabbed the phone off the couch. He dialed the Hyperion.
"We help the hopeless," Wesley said, sounding a bit distracted.
"Cordelia hasn't been eating," he bit out.
"Angel?"
"There's not hardly any food in this apartment. What were you trying to do, Wesley, starve her?"
"Hardly. I've been bringing over dinner every evening, Angel. And she has been eating. I've seen her. What happened?"
"She fell off a ladder because she got dizzy," he said accusingly. "If I hadn't been here she could have been badly injured."
"Is she all right?" Wesley asked in concern.
"What happened?" Angel heard Kate ask in the background.
"She's fine. I'm taking her out to eat and then we're going to go buy groceries." Angel hit the off button and ended the conversation.
There had to be someway to make things better for Cordelia. Just when he'd been making progress with her, her mother had to call and ruin everything. An idea began forming in his mind and a slow smile spread across his face. Psychotic mothers, bastard ex-boyfriends and serial killers aside, he was going to give Cordelia Chase a Christmas present she'd never forget. He dialed another phone number and waited.
"Caritas."
"I want to talk to Jack."
"Hold on."
A moment later, a scruffy voice answered, "What?"
"Jack. It's Angel." He waited again.
"Great. What do you want?"
"You still owe me for saving your ass in 42. I'm calling to collect."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Are you sayin' what I think you're sayin'?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."
"I came to California for a vacation, man."
"You've been here for three months. You spend every night at that damned karaoke bar. I don't think it'll kill you to do one night's work."
"How much are you askin'?"
"Just four or five."
Jack sighed heavily. "All right, all right. When am I supposed to deliver?"
"I was thinking somewhere in the vicinity of immediately," Angel responded.
"You drive a hard bargain."
"Saving you from that 3-headed fire-breathing dragon wasn't all fun and games."
"Okay. I'm on it. Geez. What's the special occasion?" Jack asked.
He smiled. "It's for a good friend."
"Ah...a woman. And just how good of friends are we talking?"
"The best." Angel hung up the phone and dialed a third number.
"Hello?"
"David? It's Angel."
"Angel, hey! What's up, man? You need me to help save the world from some demons?"
"Uh, actually, it's a little simpler than that. I need a favor."
"I'm listening," David Nabbit replied eagerly.
Angel smiled.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"And it's suddenly my fault? I had no idea she was out of food. She never said anything when I brought dinner over," Wesley said, pacing back and forth in the Hyperion hotel lobby.
Kate sat on the desk watching him. "Of course it wasn't your fault. Cordelia's a grown woman. She should have said something to someone," she agreed. "But she's had a lot on her mind lately, so maybe she wasn't even thinking about it, either."
He sighed. "I think perhaps I should go over there and..." His voice trailed off as he stared out the window.
"Wesley?"
"Dear Lord," he murmured.
Kate slid off the desk and hurried over to him. "What's wrong?" She looked up at him and he nodded towards the window. She looked over. Her jaw dropped open. "Oh, my God."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Angel looked out the picture window overlooking the street and smiled in satisfaction as their ride pulled up. He walked back to Cordelia's bedroom, where he could hear her blow-drying her hair. He smiled at her and leaned against the doorframe.
It took her a moment to notice him. "What?" she asked in confusion.
"You need to get dressed. We're going out to dinner. You don't have anything here to eat."
Cordelia waved her hand dismissively. "I'm not hungry."
Worry kicked the smile off his face and he folded his arms across his chest. "Too bad."
She stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"You're going to eat anyway. I don't want you passing out on me. Got it?" he said sternly.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, fine. Get out so I can get dressed."
Angel nodded in satisfaction and moved back out to the living room, waiting impatiently. Ten minutes later, Cordelia emerged, wearing a pair of jeans and a red blouse. He turned and quickly began digging around in her hall closet.
"Angel, what are you doing?" she asked in exasperation.
He held out her leather jacket. "It's chilly outside."
Cordelia looked at him dubiously. "Are you *on* something? It's seventy-five degrees out there."
Angel shrugged and helped her into the coat, taking a moment to button it up. He smiled slightly at the confused look on her face as he took her hand and pulled her out the door. He led her down the stairs, through the lobby, and out the door of her apartment building. Then he turned to watch the expression on her face.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cordelia's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She held her hand out and a big fluffy snowflake landed in her palm. She stared at it for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Angel, it's snowing!"
Angel smiled warmly. The snow was falling gently, but in a steady way. It was already starting to stick to the ground. "Our ride's here." He nodded to the street.
She turned and saw the two beautiful chestnut mares pulling the carriage towards them. The driver was wearing a suit as he sat in the front part of the carriage. This was unreal. It was like something out of a fairy tale. No one had ever done anything like this for her before.
Angel.
Angel had done this for her.
Cordelia swallowed hard and turned to face him. He was still smiling, gazing at her with a bit of anxiety in his eyes. She didn't hesitate before she ran the few steps that kept them separate and threw her arms around his waist. "Thank you," she whispered fiercely. He wrapped his arms around her and guided her towards the carriage.
This was one Christmas she knew she would never forget.
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When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I would offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love
Evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one to dry your tears
I would hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love
I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
There's no doubt in my mind where you belong
I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling down the avenue
There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love
The storms are raging on a rolling sea
Down the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You ain't seen nothing like me yet
There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of this earth for you
Make you happy
Make your dreams come true
To make you feel my love...
The End
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Cordelia, Angel, Wesley, Gunn, Kate, Oz, Doyle, David, Dennis, Lindsey, Xander, Willow, Buffy, Dawn, Giles, and Spike all belong to Joss Whedon. Liz, Maria, Alex, Max, Michael, Isabel, Tess, Kyle and Nasedo all belong to Melinda Metz and Jason Katims. Clayton is mine. Please don't sue. I'm not making any money.
Rating: PG-13 for language and content
Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" for Angel, and "Destiny" for Roswell and the first 14 stories in this series, especially the first one, "Illusions."
Timeline: The morning/afternoon/evening after the events that took place in story 14, "Things Fall Apart."
Summary: The Angel Investigations gang begins to rebuild itself while Angel looks for a way to make things up to Cordelia and pull her out of her depressed state.
Distribution: Anyone with previous permission to archive the series may take it without asking. Anyone else, just let me know the link.
Category: Story/semi-crossover with Roswell and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Subcategories: Angst/friendship
Keywords: For Angel: None yet, but if you haven't guessed by now, the series has a lot of Cordelia/Angel stuff; a Wesley/Kate pairing is possible but not certain. For Buffy: All the current Buffy couples (though they don't appear that much): Buffy/Riley, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya. For Roswell: Max/Liz, Michael/Maria, Isabel/Alex and it's very probable that in the future there will be a Tess/Kyle pairing.
Feedback: Is always appreciated.
Dedication: For Barbara. Hope you like it! :)
Author's Note: Okay, some of the bumps are behind us, but the road ahead is still long and winding. Cordelia and Angel are still just friends at this point, and will remain so for awhile. I like to take my time with these delicate matters of the heart.
The Ends of the Earth (Part One)
Angel gently covered Cordelia's sleeping form with her bedspread and smoothed her hair back off her face. He backed out of her bedroom and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, rubbing his eyes wearily. He was tired, but it wasn't the same mind-numbing exhaustion he'd been experiencing for the past month.
He moved down the hallway silently and surveyed the living room. Cordelia's suitcase lay open and several of the items that had been inside were scattered about. He hadn't noticed it the night before, but it must have busted open when she kicked it.
There were a few drops of blood on the carpet from where her hand had bled from her injury before he'd noticed it.
Angel grimaced as he picked up the telephone and dialed Wesley's cellular phone.
"Hello?" He answered on the first ring.
"Wesley, it's Angel. I'm still at Cordelia's. Do you think you can come over? We need to talk."
"I'll be right there." Without another word the line went dead.
Angel hung up the receiver and began picking up the things that had tumbled out of Cordelia's suitcase. He folded the clothes neatly and tucked them back into the luggage box for the time being. Then he picked up a framed photo that was lying upside down on the floor and he stared at it.
It was of Wesley, Cordelia and him. She was standing between them, her arms wrapped around them both, a wide smile on her face. They had been at a party at David Nabbit's. Angel hadn't really wanted to go, but somehow she had managed to talk him into it anyway. She had a way of doing that.
He couldn't take his eyes off her beautiful smile. She looked so happy in that picture. That was the way she was supposed to look.
He remembered how hurt she had looked the night before as she accused him of not caring about her, of walking out on her. A fresh onset of guilt settled down on him and he closed his eyes tightly. He hadn't walked out on her. Not exactly. But in her eyes he had. And he hadn't done his job. He hadn't protected her, and he hadn't been there when she needed him.
He was a bastard. She had promised to stand by him, to stay with him until he fulfilled his destiny and became human. She was his seer, his friend, his family, and so much more, and he had let her down. Again.
Angel was so caught up in his guilt that he didn't even hear the knock on the door the first time. When it sounded again, he pulled himself off the floor and opened it. "That was fast," he commented as Wesley walked inside.
"Yes, well. I was just downstairs."
The statement didn't surprise Angel in the least. Wesley was very protective of Cordelia, and he had a feeling that the two of them had grown even closer than they had been before.
"Where is she?"
"Sleeping," Angel said quietly.
"She's all right then?" Wesley pressed.
He looked away. "No thanks to me." He went into the kitchen and got a bottle of Stain-Be-Gone and a rag out of the cabinets. He returned to the living room and sprayed the blood stain with the solution and began scrubbing diligently.
"Is that blood?"
Angel nodded wordlessly.
"Angel, what the hell happened?" Wesley stared at him expectantly.
He sighed. "Her hand started bleeding."
"Then you know."
Angel looked up at him. He was angry that no one had informed him about Cordelia's attack, but mostly the anger was directed at himself for not being available enough to *be* informed. "I know some of it. I was kind of hoping you would fill in the details."
Wesley nodded slightly, then hesitated. "She doesn't know everything," he said quietly.
The statement confused him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean...there are things that we haven't told her. Let me start at the beginning." Wesley sat down on the sofa while Angel continued to sit on the floor, momentarily distracted from his task of getting rid of the blood stain on the carpet.
"The man who attacked Cordelia has killed fifteen women that we know of. There was another attempt, possibly his first victim. She was attacked, dragged to a van and brutally assaulted but managed to escape with her life. She reported to the police that he told her it was time for her descension. He also knew her name.
"All of his victims have been approximately 20 years old and look very similar to Cordelia in appearance. Dark hair, dark eyes, thin, very beautiful. Each of the victims was dumped in an alley after the murder. They all had their throats slit, and had been stabbed numerous times. It seems this man has gotten increasingly violent with each case. The family and friends of all the victims so far have reported personal items missing: a piece of jewelry or a scarf or something of the like."
Wesley paused and took a deep breath. "Cordelia doesn't know about the specifics of the victim's deaths, nor that the killer takes trophies from the victims."
He knew why Wesley had held back part of that information from her. "Nasedo," Angel said quietly, blanching at the memory of seeing Cordelia being stabbed to death by the shape-shifting alien.
"Yes," the former-Watcher said. He looked at Angel carefully. "It happened four evenings ago. Cordelia was walking home from a party when she was attacked. She was knocked to the ground and when she went to reach for her purse to get a stake, thinking she was being attacked by a vampire, he stomped on her hand. He pulled her to her feet and said he'd been watching her and that it was time for her descension. He held a knife to her throat and dragged her to a dark blue van. Oz showed up shortly after."
Angel sat silent on the floor. This was all his fault. If he had been around none of this would have happened. She could have called him and asked for a ride. If he'd been around he may have noticed that someone had been watching her.
"There's more." Wesley hesitated. "Last night, Cordelia told me she lost her grandmother's bracelet. She said she'd been wearing it the night of the attack. It's very likely that this man knows where she lives, where she works, and everything about her. And just the fact that he most likely has her bracelet suggests that he will come after her again."
He stared at Wesley for a long moment, then stood up and turned away, gazing at the picture above Cordelia's mantel but not really seeing it. "I'm staying here with her. Until this guy is caught. Or dead." The thought of ripping out the man's throat caused a jolt of adrenaline to rush through his body. He was pretty sure he wouldn't feel guilty about doing it if he got the opportunity.
"Yes, of course." There was a moment of silence. "Angel."
Angel shook his head, trying to calm his equally growing sense of guilt and rage. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to find the guy before the police did so he could torture and kill him slowly. The fact that Cordelia had almost been raped and murdered and how it would have been his fault for not protecting her balanced those thoughts.
"Angel. You mustn't blame yourself," Wesley said quietly.
He turned to face him. "How can I not, Wesley?" he demanded. "I wasn't there. I didn't help her; I haven't been there for her! This is my fault. It's my job to protect the innocent. How am I supposed to be a warrior for the Powers That Be if I can't even keep my own friends safe? I don't deserve to become human." He sunk down onto a chair and stared at the floor.
Wesley sat down across from him. "Angel. We all make mistakes. You can't take responsibility for someone else's actions. What matters is that you're here now."
He shook his head vigorously. "I let her down. *I* let her down. That's unforgivable."
"I really doubt that Cordelia will agree."
"She was so angry with me, Wesley. I hurt her. Even if I didn't mean to. She should hate me." Angel closed his eyes tightly.
"But she doesn't. Yes, she was angry. Yes, she was hurt. And that's understandable, but she will forgive you."
"I don't deserve her forgiveness. I don't even deserve to be around someone like her. She's good, and innocent, and...I'm a cold blooded killer," he said, knowing his words were true.
"So you're just going to give up then? Let Cordelia fend for herself because *you* feel too ashamed to be around her?" Wesley demanded, his voice taking on an edge that Angel had rarely heard from him.
"That's not what--"
"I know that you feel guilty for not protecting her. And that's fine. I can't do anything about that. It's not your fault, but you're entitled to feel how you feel. However, Cordelia doesn't need to deal with your guilt. She has enough of her own emotional baggage to deal with right now and she can't afford to carry yours, too." Wesley stared at him.
"I know." He looked up at his friend. "I'm sorry that I haven't been around much. But I will take care of Cordelia."
"I believe that." Wesley leaned back against the couch. "Now would you care to tell me what exactly has been going on with *you* lately?"
Angel hesitated. He knew he owed Wesley an explanation for his behavior just as much as he owed one to Cordelia. "I'm not sure how to explain it, Wesley."
"Try."
He sighed. "I've been really...exhausted lately. Since I moved out of here and into the Hyperion. I've been having these dreams..."
Wesley frowned. "Go on."
"I've been dreaming about Darla."
"Your sire Darla?" The surprise was evident in his tone.
"Yeah. And when I wake up, it's like I can still sense her somehow. Like it wasn't all a dream. Almost like she was really there."
"Angel," Wesley began.
"I know it's impossible. I staked her myself. I know that." He remembered that day very well. "But these dreams have been very...vivid." He looked at Wesley, who appeared to be lost in thought. "What are you thinking?"
"Well, perhaps there is something at the hotel that is affecting you. We got rid of the demon that was residing there for fifty years, but there's no sure way to know that another one hasn't decided to take up residence in its place. What confuses me is that you're the only one who seems to be affected. Gunn and the others have been fine as far as I know." Wesley's frown deepened. "It's worth checking into."
Angel shook his head. "If there's something there that's only after me, I don't want you to worry about it."
"Angel--"
"I'll be staying here with Cordelia anyway. Right now I want you to focus on helping Kate find this killer that's after Cordy. That's all that matters. We'll worry about me and the sleep-inducing demon later," he said firmly.
Wesley nodded in agreement and stood up. "I'm going to head back to the Hyperion now and warn the others just in case this thing decides to bother someone else while you're away. We need to be careful since we don't really know what we're dealing with."
"Good idea."
He headed for the door. "Tell her I'll see her soon."
"Will do. And Wesley?"
"Yes?"
"I am sorry," Angel said sincerely.
Wesley smiled slightly. "Consider it the past." And without another word he walked out of the apartment, leaving Angel to return to his task of stain-removal.
* * *
Part Two
Kate Lockley stretched her arms above her head as she walked down the stairs of the Hyperion and into the lobby. She smiled slightly as she saw Wesley sitting at the front desk studying the files again. "Good morning."
He looked up. "Good morning. Sleep well?"
"Actually, yeah," she admitted. She had been averaging two to three hours sleep a night for the past week and last night Gunn had convinced her that she needed to rest. And she had. She'd gotten a full eight hours of sleep and was now brimming with energy. "How about you? Did you get any sleep?"
Wesley sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. "I dozed a couple of times in the lobby of Cordelia's apartment building."
"How is she?"
"She was still sleeping when I spoke with Angel earlier."
"Then I assume that they talked?"
He nodded. "Apparently. He didn't go into much detail. He's feeling very guilty."
"Then he knows about--?"
"Yes. He knows all of it, thank God," Wesley murmured. He blinked and shook his head. "I'm sorry. Would you like some coffee?"
Kate nodded. "Coffee would be great." She watched as he poured her a cup and then handed it to her. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." He took a deep breath. "The killer may not be our only problem."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
"Angel said he's been feeling very, well...drained of energy since he moved in here. Which explains why he's been sleeping so much."
Kate stared at him and waited for him to continue.
"I think that perhaps there may be some kind of demon residing here that's been feeding off his energy."
Adrenaline immediately surged through her veins. "Has this been happening to anyone else?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"But why would a demon only feed off Angel when there's all these other people staying here?" she asked, confused. "I mean, demons don't tend to discriminate against who they kill."
"Maybe it's not trying to kill him," Wesley said quietly, frowning. "Maybe it's targeted him for a specific reason. At any rate, he's going to be staying at Cordelia's for awhile. As long as no one else has problems, our first priority must be to find this serial killer."
Kate nodded in agreement, then hesitated. "What if it tries following Angel?"
"Then our priorities will shift." Their eyes met and she settled down at the desk next to him, working side-by-side.
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Lindsey McDonald stared out across the city from his office window. "I knew this would happen," he said, barely able to contain the anger he was feeling.
"Calm down, Lindsey," Holland said with a smile.
"Calm down? Darla can't reach Angel when he's staying at the girl's apartment. There's no access!"
In her corner of the room, hidden in the shadows, Darla smiled. "There doesn't need to be."
He turned to face her. "You can't go in unless she invites you."
"I'm aware of that, Lindsey," she said softly. "Haven't you ever heard the expression that patience is a virtue?"
Lindsey stared at her for a long moment.
"We can wait...I'm not going anywhere and neither is Angel. Let him have his human holiday with his new family. It will be his last." Darla smiled knowingly.
And though it was against his better instincts, he believed her. Lindsey smiled back.
* * *
Part Three
Cordelia stared at her answering machine. The little red button was flashing furiously, demanding attention. With a weary sigh, she hit play.
"You have 8 messages," the electronic voice informed her.
"Oh, goody," she said, rolling her eyes.
Beep. "Cordelia, this is Buffy." Cordelia raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Look, I'm really sorry about what I said when you were here. I was way out of line and I'm sorry. I just wanted to call and tell you that."
Beep. "Cordelia, this is Liz. I hadn't talked to you in awhile and I just wanted to say hi."
Beep. "Cordy, it's Xander. Calling to see how you were. Uh...I'll call back later. Bye."
Beep. "Hey, Cor. It's Aura. I was just calling to tell you that you should have seen what Lily MacEnzie was wearing to Ben's party last night! You wouldn't believe it. Call me!"
Beep. "Cordelia, dear. It's your mother. I thought I'd let you know that your father and I are spending Christmas with your aunt and uncle in Europe. It's going to be so wonderful! If I'm not too busy I'll try to call back. Happy holidays, darling."
"Yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too, Mom," she muttered, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.
Beep. "Cordy, it's Xander again. Are you *ever* home?"
She smiled despite herself.
Beep. "Cordelia, it's Liz. I sent you an email, but I'm not sure if you got it. Anyway, I'm having a New Year's Eve party at the Crashdown. I know you probably can't come because of work and everything, but I wanted to invite you guys anyway. Talk to you later."
Beep. "Cordy, are you there?" It was Xander yet again. "Is everything okay? Look, I'm getting worried. Call me when you get this message okay?"
"End of messages."
Cordelia picked up her telephone receiver and dialed the new phone number he'd given her when he was in L.A. a few weeks ago.
He picked up on the second ring. "Xander's House of Horrors. How may I assist you?"
She rolled her eyes. "Nice greeting, Xander."
"Cordy! Hey, is everything okay? Cause I tried to call you like a million times." His voice was concerned.
Cordelia was tempted to tell him what was going on but she resisted. There wasn't anything he could do anyway. "I know. I got your messages. Everything's fine. What's up?"
"Well, I was kind of wondering about your holiday plans."
"Ask her!" she heard Willow whisper in the background.
"Because we were all going to get together on Christmas Eve and hang out. We were wondering if you could come," Xander finished.
"It's nice of you to offer, but--"
"I'll be doing the Snoopy dance."
She smiled. "I can't. There's stuff here going on and I don't think it's a good time to leave town."
"It's not the end of the world again, is it?"
"No, nothing like that," Cordelia assured him.
"I wanna say hi!"
"Okay, hang on. Dawn's here and she wants to talk to you," Xander informed her.
"Hi, Cordy!"
"Hi, Dawn. How are you?"
"I'm fine. So you really can't come?" The girl sounded disappointed.
"I wish I could, but it's just not possible right now."
"That sucks. Well, Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Dawn."
The phone was handed over to Xander again. His voice was lowered when he spoke this time. "So are you really okay? You sound kind of tired."
"I'm all right. Thanks for the invitation."
"Sure. I wish you could come, though. Do, uh, you and Angel and Wesley have plans?"
Cordelia felt tears sting her eyes. "Yeah. We're having this whole big dinner party thing with some of our friends here," she lied.
"Oh. Well, that sounds like fun."
"Yeah," she answered vaguely. "It'll be great. Hey, can you do me a favor?"
"Sure."
"Tell Buffy I got her message and it's okay."
"Will do," he promised.
"I have to go, Xander. Talk to you soon?" She was on the verge of crying.
"Yeah, definitely. Cordelia, are you sure you're all right?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the tears. "Yep. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, too."
Cordelia hung up the phone and buried her face in her hands.
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Angel had been taking a nap, and after only two hours, he woke up feeling refreshed and energized for the first time in weeks. He had heard her talking on the telephone in the kitchen and although he hadn't really meant to eavesdrop, he couldn't help himself. He leaned against the doorframe and stared at her. She didn't notice him, too caught up in her conversation with Xander.
"I'm all right. Thanks for the invitation," Cordelia said, her voice a bit unsteady as her fingers traced invisible patterns on the kitchen table. He wondered what invitation she'd just received. "Yeah. We're having this whole big dinner party thing with some of our friends here," she said. That's when he saw the tears start to form in her eyes.
He swallowed hard. She was pale, still visibly drained from their confrontation the previous night, and from the stress of the past few weeks.
"It'll be great. Hey, can you do me a favor? Tell Buffy I got her message and it's okay."
Angel frowned, wondering what that was about.
"I have to go, Xander. Talk to you soon?" He watched as she closed her eyes and tried to keep her voice steady. "Yep. Merry Christmas." She hung up the phone and buried her face in her hands.
For a long moment, he debated about what to do. She obviously had no idea he was standing there and he wasn't sure if she was in the mood for company. She had been fairly silent at breakfast earlier, though she had thanked him for the pancakes and bacon he'd fixed for her. He decided to take a chance.
"Hey," he said quietly as he stepped forward into the room.
Cordelia quickly wiped her eyes and turned to look at him. "Hey."
Angel sat down at the table across from her. "Xander?"
She nodded. "He invited me to a Christmas party."
So that's what the invitation was for. "That was nice."
"Yeah."
There was an awkward silence. He looked at her, but she refused to meet his eyes. "Cordelia?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you want to go back to Sunnydale for Christmas?" Angel hoped she said no, then felt badly for being selfish.
"No. I'm not really in the Christmas spirit. I'd just bring everyone else down." Cordelia stood up. "I think I'm going to take a nap. I'm kind of tired again." She left the kitchen and a moment later he heard her bedroom door close.
Angel sighed. He certainly wasn't making much progress with getting their friendship back on track. He stared at the blinking red light on the answering machine. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and hit play.
Beep. "Cordelia, this is Buffy." He leaned forward to listen closely. "Look, I'm really sorry about what I said when you were here. I was way out of line and I'm sorry. I just wanted to call and tell you that."
He frowned, wondering what had happened.
Beep. "Cordelia, this is Liz. I hadn't talked to you in awhile and I just wanted to say hi."
Beep. "Cordy, it's Xander. Calling to see how you were. Uh...I'll call back later. Bye."
Beep. "Hey, Cor. It's Aura. I was just calling to tell you that you should have seen what Lily MacEnzie was wearing to Ben's party last night! You wouldn't believe it. Call me!"
Beep. "Cordelia, dear. It's your mother. I thought I'd let you know that your father and I are spending Christmas with your aunt and uncle in Europe. It's going to be so wonderful! If I'm not too busy I'll try to call back. Happy holidays, darling."
He glared at the machine in disgust.
Beep. "Cordy, it's Xander again. Are you *ever* home?"
Beep. "Cordelia, it's Liz. I sent you an email, but I'm not sure if you got it. Anyway, I'm having a New Year's Eve party at the Crashdown. I know you probably can't come because of work and everything, but I wanted to invite you guys anyway. Talk to you later."
Angel smiled. He wondered how Liz and Max and everyone were doing.
Beep. "Cordy, are you there?" It was Xander yet again. "Is everything okay? Look, I'm getting worried. Call me when you get this message okay?"
"End of messages."
He thought for a moment. Then he picked up the telephone and dialed a number.
"Crashdown Cafe. This is Maria. How can I help you?"
"Maria, this is Angel."
"Hi! What's up?"
"I'm at Cordy's...is Liz there?"
"Yeah, hang on." A second later, he heard her yell in a muffled voice, "Liz! It's Angel!"
"Angel?"
"Hi."
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, it's fine, sort of. Uh, so you're having a New Year's Eve party?"
"Yep. Can you guys make it?"
"I think so. Cordelia's been kind of...stressed out lately, and I'm hoping that it might cheer her up."
"Is she okay?" Liz asked, obviously concerned.
"I don't know. And...I'm not going to tell her until Christmas, so if you talk to her--"
"Not a word from me. No problem," she agreed quickly.
Angel smiled. "Thanks, Liz."
"You're welcome. You probably won't need directions. There's not many businesses in Roswell."
"That's fine. We'll find it."
"Great! Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas."
* * *
Part Four
Cordelia stared up at her bedroom ceiling, her eyes fixed on a dark spot in the corner. She wasn't really tired. She'd just used that as an excuse to get away from Angel, to get away from the awkwardness that lingered between them.
She used to be so good at pretending like nothing was wrong, at ignoring the obvious. Of course, she'd had a great deal of practice. Her mother had taught her at a young age how to "act like a lady." That, by her mother's definition, was "not giving in to inappropriate displays of emotion," followed closely by the important lessons of how to dress and smile correctly in order to get a rich, respectable man to marry her. Not love her, just marry her.
"There is no such thing as love, Cordelia, dear," her mother had told her. "Don't believe in anything that's not tangible, except power. And the way to gain power is through money. That's what dreams are made of. That's what will bring you whatever your heart desires."
She had nodded, staring at her mother in the mirror as she braided Cordelia's hair and prepared her for her first cotillion. And being the eight year old girl that she was, the only thing that she wanted was to make her mother happy, so she had taken great pride in her looks and in the ability to attract the attention of men even at a young age.
Her mother had told her there was no such thing as love...
...and Cordelia had believed her. There were no fairy tales when she was growing up. No one had read her bedtime stories about Cinderella and her prince, or Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White or the Little Mermaid. She saw her first Disney movie at Aura's house when they were thirteen. Beauty and the Beast. Aura hadn't understood why she'd been so taken by the movie, or why she had insisted on seeing every other Disney production ever made that same weekend.
But after that, she'd found a spark of hope that love did exist. It was tiny, but there. She'd had to repress the belief for years to avoid slipping up in front of her mother. So she'd sealed it away in a dark, hidden corner of her soul and forgotten about it for a long time.
She had dated many guys in high school, and most of them only wanted one thing. They had bought her act and believed she was just a beautiful, shallow rich girl who had no feelings. She wasn't stupid. She knew what they said about her behind her back and it hurt. Not that she ever let anyone see just how much it hurt.
Never let them see your pain. Something else her mother had taught her.
She had become very good at pretending like nothing got to her. And she had managed to be exactly what her mother wanted her to be: a beautiful, classy, popular girl that got a lot of attention from the guys.
Until she fell for Xander Harris.
And after that, nothing had ever been the same.
Her parents, expectedly, had disapproved. After all, Xander's parents weren't in a position of power and they were far from wealthy. They'd even tried forbidding her to see him.
That hadn't worked, obviously. She'd been very attracted to him--not just physically--but because when everything on the outside was stripped away, they were a lot alike.
Xander's parents were far from supportive and nurturing. He'd never had much affection growing up and so he had a difficult time expressing affection.
That had been the most difficult part of their relationship: they both had so many defenses built up around them, it was hard to tear them all down. It made communication nearly impossible.
She had tried so hard to break through her own defenses, to let her guard down and admit how she felt about him. But undoing years of taught detachment had taken too long.
//I spent a year in the mouth of a whale
With a flame and a book of signs
You'll never know how hard I failed
Trying to make up for lost time//
Cordelia had learned the hard way that even though love wasn't tangible, it did exist. She knew it did because she had felt it. Every moment when she was with Xander, every moment she was without him, she wanted to be closer. Maybe it was pathetic in her mother's mind. Not that she ever *told* her mother she loved him. Not that she could have.
She had admitted it once to Buffy, though, totally by accident. They had been alone in a cabin in the woods, hiding from Slayer hunters that were after them. She had been...well, panicking, and it had just slipped out. Buffy had been surprised and Cordelia had tried to make it sound like it was no big deal.
But it was a big deal.
And when she had found out that Xander had been cheating on her with Willow...she never knew loving someone could hurt that much. It was worse than the physical pain of being impaled. That she could take painkillers for and the ache in her stomach would disappear for awhile.
But there was no painkiller strong enough to make the ache in her heart go away.
//Once I believed in things unseen
I was blinded by the dark
Out of the multitude to me
He came and broke my heart//
He had tried to apologize. He had brought her flowers at the hospital. Called her every single day for a week at least ten times a day. He'd sent more flowers, candy, stuffed animals, and even jewelry. She had sent it all back to him and ignored his phone calls.
She blamed herself more than she really did him. She had known all along that he didn't return her feelings. Sure, he cared about her and he liked making out with her, but he had never loved her.
Xander had been in love with Buffy since she moved to Sunnydale. He never admitted it, at least until recently, but it was obvious by the way he acted. Anytime Buffy was in any kind of trouble, Xander was the first person to want to take action and go help her--even if it meant rushing in without a plan and risking his own life. Then, of course, there was his extreme jealousy and hatred of Angel. It was so obvious how he felt for Buffy.
And then there was Willow Rosenberg. She'd been Xander's best friend since they were five years old. They could communicate without speaking. And just as it was completely obvious how Xander felt about Buffy, anyone with eyes could see that Willow had had similar feelings towards Xander.
She should have seen it coming. The signs were all there. Xander and Willow had both been acting jumpy and on edge for weeks. They were nervous about being around each other. It should have been so easy to see. But when you're in love with someone--really, truly in love--it's amazing what you can deceive yourself into believing.
If she and Oz hadn't caught them in the middle of a heated kiss, Cordelia may have gone on deceiving herself forever.
But she had caught them. Any trust she'd had for Xander had gone down in flames. And no matter how good she was at ignoring things, the fact that he didn't love her--that he would rather be with Buffy or Willow, or even Faith--was something that not even she could ignore any longer.
So she broke up with him. She closed herself off. And after graduation, she left town as fast as she could.
//Tell my ma I loved the man
Even though I turned and ran
Lovely and fine I could have been
Laying down in the palm of his hand
Laying down in the palm of his hand
Laying down in the palm of his hand
Staying down in the palm of his hand//
Cordelia had chosen L.A.--the City of Angels--thinking that surely in a city that big she could find a job acting. She'd had two commercials, local ones, and had gotten an agent. She'd attended dozens of auditions and screenings and callbacks. But those two commercials were all she ever got.
The money she'd made from them lasted one month. After that, she had to try and find a job that didn't require a college education and didn't discriminate against her because of her parents' tax evasion. She finally got a job as a waitress at a cafe a couple blocks away from her apartment.
That lasted one week. Some jerk harassed her all evening one Friday and then wound up sliding his hand under the skirt of her uniform. She hadn't hesitated in dumping an entire plate of hot spaghetti on his head.
Cordelia hadn't been too surprised when she'd gotten fired less than fifteen minutes later.
She spent the next month sneaking into Hollywood parties just so she could have something to eat.
She'd met up with Angel at one of those parties. She'd never been so relieved and so terrified to see someone in her entire life. Not terrified because she thought he'd gone evil or anything. Terrified because she hadn't wanted *anyone* she knew seeing her in her current lifestyle. She'd been reduced to complete poverty, a failure to her parents, to herself, to everyone who ever told her she'd make it big one day. She was living in a run-down, roach-infested building on a really bad side of town, stealing food to survive, lying to get into parties to steal said food.
The very thought of anyone from Sunnydale finding out what she'd become was enough to make her blood run cold.
She'd been relieved to see Angel because she didn't know anyone in L.A. Oh, sure, she'd met agents and other hopeful Hollywood-bound people, but no one *knew* her. No one cared to. No one even knew her name. She was just another face trying to make it in showbiz. No one special. She'd been completely alone.
So when Cordelia had heard the familiar voice say her name, her eyes had widened and she'd spun around to face him.
And there he was. His eyes were warm and his smile friendly. For a moment she'd been overwhelmed with emotion--like a person who'd been lost at sea for years and had just been found.
The relief rapidly changed into fear and her defenses rose automatically. When he'd asked where she was living, she'd lied and said something about a condo on the beach. And she had ended the conversation shortly afterwards. She hadn't figured she'd ever run into him again, so she had pushed all her thoughts of his friendly face out of her mind. At least, until a couple days later.
Russell Winters had been so easy to talk to. Or maybe she was so hungry and so desperate for a friend, she'd simply ignored all the initial warning signs at first. There had been dark curtains everywhere, and there were no mirrors, and the guy was very pale...it should have tipped her off immediately. She'd put it together eventually, but it was almost not soon enough. Just as he was about to make her his next meal, a familiar voice had spoken from the shadows, "Russell Winters."
She'd known without thinking who had spoken. And it was at that moment she had known. She had known she wasn't going to die. At least not right then. Because Angel was there.
He would protect her.
And he had. He had fought with Winters but had been unable to dust him right then. He had thrown himself in front of her when Winters' hit men had started shooting in her direction. Angel had turned, swiftly swept her into his arms and literally jumped over the railing to get her out of the line of fire. He'd taken five bullets that night. For her.
When Angel went out again to finish what he'd started with Winters, Doyle had filled her in about Angel's mission to help people. She'd started thinking that running into Angel at that party hadn't just been a coincidence. It may have been easier to dismiss as chance if he hadn't ended up saving her life just two days later. What was the likelihood of running into someone she knew from Sunnydale twice in two days in a big city like L.A? And the fact that she knew the truth about what he was, and that she knew about all the things that went bump in the night just made it seem like her place was to help him help other people.
So Cordelia had insinuated herself into his life. And to her surprise, he hadn't protested. He'd hired her to be his secretary at Angel Investigations.
Her office skills had been...lacking for awhile. But Angel didn't seem to mind. He hadn't gotten disgusted with her because she was unable to hack into other computer systems or type as fast as Willow. He hadn't been upset because she lacked Buffy's superpowers. He'd just taken her in, protected her, and paid her well even when she didn't do that much at first.
They had been friends, but distant ones. Angel had brooded over Buffy a lot in the first few months of opening the agency, and after a couple of failed attempts to drag him out of it, she had focused on her own life.
Doyle's death had brought them together. Nothing had been the same after he died. Angel had become more protective of her than ever, and she had found her own defenses lowering. They'd started counting on one another to pull each other through the difficult times. Sure, they occasionally got on one another's nerves, but they had become close friends. Cordelia had never really had a best friend before, and she had a feeling Angel hadn't either, so it was a new experience for both of them.
She used to be so good at hiding her real feelings, at pretending to be someone she wasn't. She'd always been afraid of letting down her guard, of allowing someone to see her. Because the sad truth was, whenever someone had believed her little facade and openly admitted to disliking her, she knew it was okay because that wasn't the *real* her. The real her was someone she'd kept hidden from everyone, even herself at times. Because to let her real self be revealed would have left her vulnerable to people disliking who she really was and that was...scary.
Angel saw right through the act. No matter how hard she'd tried to hide what she felt, he always seemed to know. Eventually she'd just given up. And for the first time in her entire life, she let her defenses fall away completely. And the amazing part was...Angel still cared for her. He was still her friend. And so was Wesley. They accepted her. Even when she made the occasional tactless remark, they didn't try to change her. They'd become a family. A real one.
The one she never had.
//River is wide and oh so deep
And it winds and winds around
I dream we're happy in my sleep
Floating down and down and down
And the tide rushes by where we stand
And the earth underneath turns to sand
And we're waiting for someone to see
Don't bail on me//
Wesley's presence in her life had been unexpected. He had shown up in town the day after Doyle had died. Almost like he was sent by the PTB. Of course, she'd first met Wesley in Sunnydale. He'd been Giles' replacement as Buffy and Faith's Watcher. She'd had a crush on him for awhile, and had flirted with him every chance she got. That had a lot to do with the fact that Xander had been around most of those times, and she'd still been hurting and angry with him for his little tryst with Willow while they'd been dating. But she really had liked Wesley. Things were over for them before they started, especially when they shared their first kiss. There was just nothing there. No spark, no passion. They'd both been disappointed, but sometimes that was just life.
The memory brought a smile to her face.
Of course, now things between them were strictly platonic. He'd helped fill that empty space in her heart that Doyle's death had left behind. Not fill it completely, though. No one could do that. Doyle would always hold a special place in her heart, and no one could ever replace him. Wesley held his own place in her heart.
Angel and Wesley. She had grown to depend on them. More than she had ever depended on anyone in her entire life, her parents included. She counted on them for support, protection, and acceptance. And in return she loved them both unconditionally. That was, after all, what a family was about.
There was only one thing wrong with loving people. A lesson that she had learned time and again from the age of five years old when her grandmother died from a heart attack, to Xander's betrayal, to her parents skipping town to avoid prison, to Doyle's death.
Everyone left eventually. Death, betrayal, flat-out rejection. Didn't matter what the cause was, nothing made it easier. And it always happened.
It was just a matter of when.
It scared her more than anything. The fact that she could lose either of them at any given time. After all, it wasn't like the job they did was safe. They all risked their lives for the cause--Angel, Wesley, even her. It was what they did. Risked their lives to save others. That's why the PTB brought them all together. That and she liked to think that maybe they all needed one another, and the Powers had seen that and allowed them to become a family.
That was part of the reason the past month had been so hard. Angel had been so distant. He'd seemingly shut her out of his life for no apparent reason. Sure, Wesley had still been there, for which she was grateful. But when someone you love does something out of the blue like start sleeping 16 hours a day and refusing to tell you what's wrong, frustration and hurt start to build up. And no matter how many other people you're around that care about you, until things are made right with that one person, the whole world is off-balance.
Memories of the previous night flooded into her mind.
She had been so angry with him, with the world. He'd tried to apologize and she'd reamed him for it. She'd tried to kick him out, say nasty things to him to get him to leave, and...
Oh god.
She'd threatened him with holy water.
Cordelia sat up in bed, pressing one hand over her mouth as tears stung her eyes. She'd actually threatened Angel with holy water.
He was her best friend, part of the only family she had, one of the only people she'd ever felt completely safe with and felt a sense of belonging with. He'd saved her life so many times and she'd threatened to take his.
And then she'd thrown the whole-Buffy-disaster back in his face. Yeah, a great friend she was.
//When the dust in the field has flown
And the youngest of hearts has grown
And you doubt you will ever be free
Don't bail on me//
She was on her feet and out the bedroom door before she even realized she was moving. She didn't see Angel sitting outside her bedroom until she'd literally tripped over him.
He reached out and caught her before she slammed onto the ground, a startled expression on his face. "Cordelia! Are you all right?"
Cordelia nodded wordlessly and threw her arms around him. "Angel, I am so sorry," she whispered, struggling to fight the tears that were still in her eyes.
Angel's arms slid around her waist and he rested one hand on her back. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I'm the one who's sorry."
She shook her head and pulled away to look at him. "I was horrible to you last night."
"No, you were honest. I've been a huge jerk for the past few weeks. You didn't say or do anything that you didn't have a right to say and do."
"I threatened you with holy water." As soon as the words passed her lips, she started to cry, feeling more ashamed of herself than she ever remembered feeling.
Angel pulled her to him and she buried her face in his shoulder. "You did that once before, remember?" His voice was light and she knew he was trying to make her feel better.
"Yeah, but you were all evil then. That doesn't count," Cordelia answered miserably. "And besides, then it wasn't really holy water. It was just bottled water."
"But I thought it was holy water. You had me pretty convinced."
"You weren't evil last night. And what I did...what I said...was unforgivable." She felt a new round of tears building up.
"Hey." Angel gently took her by the arms and made her look at him. "You did it to me. I'm the one who gets to decide what's forgivable and what's not, all right? So just stop talking like that right now." He looked at her seriously.
"Angel--"
"I mean it, Cordelia. I feel guilty enough about not being there for you for the past month. I don't really want to feel more guilty because I know you feel guilty."
She stared at him. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guiltier about anything. God knew he had enough guilt for everyone around them.
"So we're clear?" he asked firmly. "No more guilt trips for you? Please?"
Cordelia bit her lip and nodded slightly. He smiled at her. A smile she rarely saw. One that rarely anyone ever saw. She leaned against him and relaxed. She felt a bit better, but not completely. "Are we okay then?" she asked quietly.
Angel rested his chin on the top of her head. "I'm okay if you are."
She closed her eyes as his one of his hands supported her back and the other stroked her hair gently. "Then we're okay." And she meant it.
As long as they were friends, everything would be okay.
//In the morning you wait for the sun
And secretly hope it won't come
But time washes everyone clean
Honey now, don't bail on me
Don't bail on me
Don't bail on me//
* * *
Part Five
"You know what I hate about Christmas in California?" Cordelia asked later that evening as Angel helped her wind purple garland around her seven and a half foot Christmas tree. "It never snows. My parents and I used to go to Colorado every year during the holidays so we could have a white Christmas. Of course, that was *before* they got caught cheating on their taxes."
Then there had been last year. Doyle had died right before the holidays. She had put up a strand of lights and a tabletop tree in a feeble attempt to get into the holiday spirit. Of course, when the big day came, she hadn't had any sleep and instead of celebrating she'd gone in to work. Angel hadn't questioned why she came in on a holiday. They'd just sat silently, at their separate desks, lost in their own thoughts.
She stepped back and examined the tree with a critical eye. "It needs bulbs."
"It is kind of bare," he agreed.
"There's a box of decorations in the guest room closet. I think it's on the top shelf. Could you--?"
"Got it," Angel replied as he headed down the hallway.
She picked up the tree topper she'd set on her coffee table and studied it. It was a beautiful angel that had a porcelain face and hands and was trimmed in silver. It had been her grandmother's. And since she lost her bracelet, it was the only thing she had left of her grandmother.
Cordelia took a deep breath and climbed up the ladder she usually stored in the hall closet. She reached over and carefully placed the angel on top of the tree, adjusting it so it was perfectly balanced. She sighed softly, trying to push aside the sad feeling that kept tugging at her. She and Angel had made up. There was no reason left to be sad.
Right?
The room tilted as a sudden wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. She quickly clutched onto the ladder rung for support and leaned her forehead against the top step, squeezing her eyes shut.
"I don't see any bulbs," she heard Angel say from the guest room.
She didn't even try to respond as she took a slow deep breath and opened her eyes back up.
Now the room wasn't just tilting. It was spinning. The pretty lights on her Christmas tree melded together with the lamp light, creating a colorful blurred array of brightness. Her grip on the rung slipped.
"Cordelia!"
She knew she was falling, but she never hit the ground. Instead, a pair of strong arms caught her and surrounded her.
Cordelia blinked against the lights and then gazed up at Angel, who was cradling her against him like one would cradle an infant. He was staring at her, his face riddled with worry.
How did he move so fast? she wondered.
"Cordelia, are you okay? What happened?"
She nodded weakly. "I just...got dizzy."
His gaze left her face and traveled up the height of the ladder. "What were you doing?"
"Putting the angel on the tree," she mumbled.
"I would have done that. Are you all right? Do you feel sick?" he asked in concern.
"No. I'm all right." Cordelia became very aware that she was still cradled in his arms. Her heart thudded a bit faster at the realization. She shifted slightly; Angel understood and carefully set her on her feet. Her knees buckled almost instantly.
"Whoa, easy. Take it easy." He slid his arm around her waist and guided her to the couch. She sank down onto the sofa and Angel sat down next to her, keeping his arm around her waist. He frowned and touched her forehead with his other hand. "You don't have a fever." He tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear.
Cordelia felt her breath catch in the back of her throat as she stared at him. "I'm...I'm all right," she reiterated. She quickly turned away from his gaze and leaned back against the back of the couch and shut her eyes. She focused on taking deep, relaxing breaths.
"Maybe I should take you to the hospital."
Her eyes flew open at his words. "No way! Angel, I'm fine. I just got dizzy. It happens."
Angel studied her doubtfully. "I don't know..."
"I hate hospitals. I'm not sick. And by the time one of the doctors in the e.r. got around to checking me out, it would be morning and you'd have to spend the whole day there to avoid becoming a crispy critter," Cordelia pointed out.
He smiled slightly, but before he had a chance to respond, the telephone rang. She started to get up, but he quickly shook his head and gave her a stern look. "I got it." Cordelia watched as he crossed the room and stepped into the kitchen. "Hello?" There was a pause. "Uh, yeah. She's right here. Hang on a minute." He walked back into the living room, his hand covering up the mouthpiece of her portable phone. "It's your mom."
She held back a grimace as she took the phone from him. "Hi, Mom."
"Cordelia, dear, who was that?"
She glanced up at Angel, who was examining the knick-knacks on her fireplace mantel. "Oh, that was Angel."
"That detective you work with? What on earth is he doing at your apartment?" her mother demanded.
"We're friends."
"Sure you are, darling. I take it you blew things with Clayton then?" There was an accusing tone to her voice.
Cordelia swallowed hard and stared down at her hands, unable to answer.
"Of course. I expected no less. Well, there went your father's and my only chance at returning to California." Her mother sighed heavily. "Why is it you can't make any decent relationships work, Cordelia? You're a Chase, for godsakes. You're ruining our family name, dear."
She bit her lip and changed the subject. "How are you and Daddy?"
"We're wonderful. Europe is just lovely this time of year. It's really too bad your Hollywood career didn't work out. Maybe you could have afforded to come and join us for the holidays if you made decent money."
"I get by," Cordelia said quietly.
"But getting by isn't the road to happiness, dear. You were supposed to be a star. Your father and I paid for so many classes for you when you were younger. Why is it that after all of our hard work you turned out to be...well, such a failure?"
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. Years of sniping at classmates and friends and standing up for herself against demons and vampires and she couldn't even stand up to her own mother. How pathetic am I? she wondered.
"Anyway, I just called to tell you Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," Cordelia echoed.
"I'll call again soon, dear."
"Can't wait." She punched the off button on the portable phone and stood up.
Angel turned around to face her, his expression unreadable.
"Well," she said with false cheerfulness. "I'm going to take a shower. I feel all icky." She met his eyes for a split second. In that second she could see the genuine concern and sympathy he felt for her and she turned away, feeling ashamed. She walked down the hall without waiting for a response.
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Angel glared at the telephone that set on Cordelia's coffee table. He hadn't been trying to listen to her conversation. Really he hadn't. He didn't have control over the fact that his senses, including his ability to hear voices over electronic wires while standing across the room, were keener than humans'.
He'd never met Cordelia's parents. And he hoped like hell he never had to. He wasn't sure he'd retain the ability to stay civil and be polite.
How could her mother be so callous?
The breakup with Clayton hadn't been Cordelia's fault. The bastard had cheated on her. Was she supposed to stay with him anyway?
Anger welled up within him. No wonder it was so hard for Cordelia to trust people. Among her parents and what had happened with Xander and Wilson Christopher and Clayton, he couldn't blame her for being unable to let down her defenses. He paced the room angrily. And he had added to it. He'd hurt her by keeping her at a distance while he dreamt of Darla.
He paused in front of her fireplace again. His eyes were drawn back to the three small trophies that were lined up. Each one had a golden horse on top of it. He wondered why he'd never noticed them until tonight. The first one read:
Cordelia Chase
First Place
Sunnydale Equestrian Competition
1995
The other two were the same, except the dates were 1996 and 1997. He ran his fingers along the engraving.
From the bathroom he could hear the sound of running water, and he worried briefly that she might fall and hurt herself if she got dizzy again. He had a feeling that Dennis would make him aware of that fact if it happened, though. He looked towards the ladder and shook his head slowly. He wondered what had caused the dizziness. She wasn't running a fever, so...
Angel rolled his eyes in disgust. She hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, and she'd only picked at the eggs and pancakes he'd fixed for her. No wonder she'd fallen.
He moved into the kitchen, still feeling angry with Cordelia's mother. Didn't she understand that even though Cordelia didn't make a lot of money, that she was doing something more important? That she was helping people, saving innocent lives?
Cordelia was ruining the Chase family name. Angel snorted. Yeah, right. Cordelia had nothing to do with the ruination of the Chase name. They'd done fine ruining it themselves when they'd cheated on their taxes for 18 years.
He really didn't like Cordy's mother.
Angel pulled open the refrigerator and grimaced at the week-old greasy pizza box and flat orange soda that was inside. He pulled them both out, tossing the pizza in the trash and pouring the flat drink down the kitchen drain. Then he rummaged through cupboards. A few cans of soup, a box of macaroni and cheese, a box of Cheerio's, a couple of cake mixes...nothing that could vaguely constitute a decent dinner.
He paused and thought back to the moment he'd caught Cordelia as she fell from the ladder. She had lost weight. Not a lot, but she was thin to start with, so it wouldn't take much for her to become pretty weak and tired from lack of food.
A new burst of anger flooded over him. He stormed into the living room and grabbed the phone off the couch. He dialed the Hyperion.
"We help the hopeless," Wesley said, sounding a bit distracted.
"Cordelia hasn't been eating," he bit out.
"Angel?"
"There's not hardly any food in this apartment. What were you trying to do, Wesley, starve her?"
"Hardly. I've been bringing over dinner every evening, Angel. And she has been eating. I've seen her. What happened?"
"She fell off a ladder because she got dizzy," he said accusingly. "If I hadn't been here she could have been badly injured."
"Is she all right?" Wesley asked in concern.
"What happened?" Angel heard Kate ask in the background.
"She's fine. I'm taking her out to eat and then we're going to go buy groceries." Angel hit the off button and ended the conversation.
There had to be someway to make things better for Cordelia. Just when he'd been making progress with her, her mother had to call and ruin everything. An idea began forming in his mind and a slow smile spread across his face. Psychotic mothers, bastard ex-boyfriends and serial killers aside, he was going to give Cordelia Chase a Christmas present she'd never forget. He dialed another phone number and waited.
"Caritas."
"I want to talk to Jack."
"Hold on."
A moment later, a scruffy voice answered, "What?"
"Jack. It's Angel." He waited again.
"Great. What do you want?"
"You still owe me for saving your ass in 42. I'm calling to collect."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Are you sayin' what I think you're sayin'?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."
"I came to California for a vacation, man."
"You've been here for three months. You spend every night at that damned karaoke bar. I don't think it'll kill you to do one night's work."
"How much are you askin'?"
"Just four or five."
Jack sighed heavily. "All right, all right. When am I supposed to deliver?"
"I was thinking somewhere in the vicinity of immediately," Angel responded.
"You drive a hard bargain."
"Saving you from that 3-headed fire-breathing dragon wasn't all fun and games."
"Okay. I'm on it. Geez. What's the special occasion?" Jack asked.
He smiled. "It's for a good friend."
"Ah...a woman. And just how good of friends are we talking?"
"The best." Angel hung up the phone and dialed a third number.
"Hello?"
"David? It's Angel."
"Angel, hey! What's up, man? You need me to help save the world from some demons?"
"Uh, actually, it's a little simpler than that. I need a favor."
"I'm listening," David Nabbit replied eagerly.
Angel smiled.
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"And it's suddenly my fault? I had no idea she was out of food. She never said anything when I brought dinner over," Wesley said, pacing back and forth in the Hyperion hotel lobby.
Kate sat on the desk watching him. "Of course it wasn't your fault. Cordelia's a grown woman. She should have said something to someone," she agreed. "But she's had a lot on her mind lately, so maybe she wasn't even thinking about it, either."
He sighed. "I think perhaps I should go over there and..." His voice trailed off as he stared out the window.
"Wesley?"
"Dear Lord," he murmured.
Kate slid off the desk and hurried over to him. "What's wrong?" She looked up at him and he nodded towards the window. She looked over. Her jaw dropped open. "Oh, my God."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Angel looked out the picture window overlooking the street and smiled in satisfaction as their ride pulled up. He walked back to Cordelia's bedroom, where he could hear her blow-drying her hair. He smiled at her and leaned against the doorframe.
It took her a moment to notice him. "What?" she asked in confusion.
"You need to get dressed. We're going out to dinner. You don't have anything here to eat."
Cordelia waved her hand dismissively. "I'm not hungry."
Worry kicked the smile off his face and he folded his arms across his chest. "Too bad."
She stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"You're going to eat anyway. I don't want you passing out on me. Got it?" he said sternly.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, fine. Get out so I can get dressed."
Angel nodded in satisfaction and moved back out to the living room, waiting impatiently. Ten minutes later, Cordelia emerged, wearing a pair of jeans and a red blouse. He turned and quickly began digging around in her hall closet.
"Angel, what are you doing?" she asked in exasperation.
He held out her leather jacket. "It's chilly outside."
Cordelia looked at him dubiously. "Are you *on* something? It's seventy-five degrees out there."
Angel shrugged and helped her into the coat, taking a moment to button it up. He smiled slightly at the confused look on her face as he took her hand and pulled her out the door. He led her down the stairs, through the lobby, and out the door of her apartment building. Then he turned to watch the expression on her face.
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Cordelia's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She held her hand out and a big fluffy snowflake landed in her palm. She stared at it for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Angel, it's snowing!"
Angel smiled warmly. The snow was falling gently, but in a steady way. It was already starting to stick to the ground. "Our ride's here." He nodded to the street.
She turned and saw the two beautiful chestnut mares pulling the carriage towards them. The driver was wearing a suit as he sat in the front part of the carriage. This was unreal. It was like something out of a fairy tale. No one had ever done anything like this for her before.
Angel.
Angel had done this for her.
Cordelia swallowed hard and turned to face him. He was still smiling, gazing at her with a bit of anxiety in his eyes. She didn't hesitate before she ran the few steps that kept them separate and threw her arms around his waist. "Thank you," she whispered fiercely. He wrapped his arms around her and guided her towards the carriage.
This was one Christmas she knew she would never forget.
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When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I would offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love
Evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one to dry your tears
I would hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love
I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
There's no doubt in my mind where you belong
I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling down the avenue
There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love
The storms are raging on a rolling sea
Down the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You ain't seen nothing like me yet
There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of this earth for you
Make you happy
Make your dreams come true
To make you feel my love...
The End