Author: Morgan R.
Email: [email protected]
Rating: PG-15
Summary: Angel has a bad night
Feedback: Reeeaach to that reply button...
Disclaimer: Joss and his triumvirate of evil own a heck of a lot. Pretty
much everything in
this here story.
Note: If you have the soundtrack, read this while listening to Lucky by Bif
Naked. See, I
really liked the song, and then it was the music while Buffy and
Parker...ew. So it spoiled it,
but then I thought, let's look at it from another perspective.
Furthermore, I'm really interested by the whole Buffy being marked thing,
and this to me sort of
explains Angel's pissy attitude when Oz first arrives with the ring. Just
read it.
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Angel and Doyle laughed as Cordelia scowled in their direction. "It's not funny! This is disgusting!"
"Cheer up, darlin'," Doyle grinned. "You look cute in vamp dust."
"Well if Angel had been watching where he was staking the darn things-"
"Sorry, Cordelia. Next time, you just let me know: save your life, or preserve your immaculate appearance so you can get bit but still look pretty."
"Thank you-hey!"
Angel had almost begun to laugh again, when he suddenly staggered. "What the-" he whispered.
"You okay, man?" Doyle asked.
"I just, I don't know," Angel replied, clutching his head.
"You're not losing your soul, are you?" Cordelia asked, her voice less flip than usual. "Oh, God, it's my fault, isn't it? You were laughing at you, and it made you happy. I thought sex with Buffy was the only thing that could do that."
Sex with Buffy.
Angel straightened up, his face a mask, ignoring the pain spreading through his cold body. "Excuse me," he muttered harshly, heading for the elevator.
"What is it?" Doyle asked, laying a hand on his arm.
Angel shook him off with unnecessary violence, not saying a word as he slammed the gate shut and jabbed at the controls, his stony face disappearing as the elevator sunk out of sight.
"What was that all about?" Cordy asked.
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Angel threw the doors open, no longer bothering to restrain the growl burning in his throat. It would become a scream in a few moments, but he was hardly conscious of his actions at that point.
She was his. Was not his mark on her? On her neck, even in her?
Angel could be sensitive and brood. Sometimes, however, he was nothing but animal, and this was one of those times. Because someone was touching her.
Not a comforting touch, not the touch of a friend. She was letting someone touch her, seduce her, possess her. If Angel had known he would experience this sort of pain every time Buffy found someone who could 'make love to her', in his own foolish words, he might not have left. He might have risked the happiness inherent in being near her, he might have let atoning for years of his crimes fall to the wayside.
He might not have let her go. He might not have encouraged her to forget him.
As it was, the torment of having his mate give herself to another male was too much to mask in polite conversation. The rumbling sound of menace he was making grew into a howl as the pain became too much. His meticulously arranged apartment was on the receiving end of his pain as he let the rage out.
He wanted to know who it was, who was too stupidly human to recognize the brand of a master vampire. He wanted to know how it felt for her to know the touch of someone with a heartbeat. He wanted to know if the fact that her new lover wouldn't lose his soul made him a better lover than himself, despite his centuries of sexual experience...
That was when the teapot hit the elevator with an incredible crash, Angel screaming once again.
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Cordy jumped at the crash downstairs. "Doyle, we have to help him!"
"We don't even know what's wrong-"
"Well, funny thing about supernatural beings, you rarely do! You still have to try!" Shooting him a disappointed look of reproach, she headed for the elevator.
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The sound of the elevator coming back down barely registered in Angel's rage. When Cordy stepped out of the elevator, she couldn't help but wince. Angel was in full game face, feathers were still flying from several shredded pillows, and she realized she was going to go buy a new teapot the next morning.
Inching towards him took all the bravery possessed by the hellmouth survivor. "Angel, it's me. Cordelia."
"Go back upstairs." Cordy shivered at the menace and the pain in his voice, but she held her ground.
"No," she replied, hoping her voice sounded firm.
"Get OUT!!!!" he shrieked, hurling the kitchen table into the wall.
"No," she whispered.
"Please," he begged, his voice moving from threatening to pathetic. "Please." He began to sink to the ground. "Please, no. Please."
Moving to his side, Cordy crouched next to him. "Angel, what is it?"
"She's with someone else."
"How did you hear that? What, the Sunydale gossip mill extends to you?"
"I don't mean dating, Cordelia. I mean _with_."
She paused momentarily. "How can you-"
"Let's call it a parting gift of the Hellmouth, I don't know. It just-"
"Hurts like hell?" Cordy summed up. He looked at her in some confusion.
"Don't look so surprised. Remember Xander? Cheated on me with his best friend, only to move on to have a cheap fling with Faith?"
Angel began to understand. "You know Angel, that wasn't the way it was supposed to work, for either of us. Not that you and I are devastatingly similar. But he was supposed to hurt after I left him. He was supposed to wallow in need for me, to dream about me, to cry for me, to miss me as much as I wasn't supposed to be missing him. But he went off and gave it up to someone he didn't know, to someone who didn't care about him." She laughed, a short, brittle laugh.
"I've never had your sort of tortured love affair, Angel. But he wasn't supposed to move on, no matter how much I swore I didn't care. He wasn't supposed to have meaningless sex. He was supposed to be too good for it, too pure or something. So, tonight, like I did all those months ago, you found out that even after you, she could want someone else. You found out that memories of you aren't going to be enough to last her the rest of her life. You found out that the whole "If I can't have you, I don't want anyone else," policy doesn't always remain in effect after the most painful break-up you ever had nightmares about." She took a deep breath.
"You know what our biggest similarity is, Angel?"
"What?"
"We both discovered that heartbreak is even worse when immediately followed by impalement." She stood gracefully, and began picking up the debris.
"Cordelia, you don't have to-"
"Angel, shut up. Go out and treat some vampires as badly as you want to treat the moron who's sleeping with your ex."
He almost growled again, when she looked him in his furious eye. "I don't do sensitive or tact, Angel. I do truth, and I don't use pretty words. Now get out so I can clean up the mess you made."
He walked out silently.