Home Before Dark - Part Eight
by Debbie Nockels
COPYRIGHT: February 2002
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters from BTVS or ANGEL. They're owned by Joss Whedon (who needs to treat them nicer), MutantEnemy, Kuzui, Sandollar, David Greenwalt, the WB, UPN, Fox, etc.
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"It isn't a person, it's another Pylean word," Fred told Cordelia. "Moira is the gut physical attraction between two larger-than-life souls."
Gunn glanced over at the kissing couple. "I'd say �gut physical attraction' fits the bill."
Cordelia snorted. "That's for sure! Those two have had the hots for each other from practically the moment they met."
"It's more than just that," Wesley said quietly.
Cordy set her chin. "It's a big part of it."
"But not all of it," he persisted.
Cordelia sighed, then grudgingly conceded the point. "I know. It's the whole star-crossed-lovers-who-are-also-soulmates thing." She tilted the Dunkin' Donuts box and popped an overlooked morsel of chocolate donut into her mouth.
Fred again was lost in her stream of thought. "I'd been thinking it was Cordy who had the moira with Angel," she mused.
Cordelia choked. Donut crumbs sprayed everywhere. "What?" she gasped.
"Sure; why not? I mean Angel's a hero, obviously, and you are too, with your visions and everything, so I just thought it fit." Fred shrugged. Gunn and Wesley exchanged amused looks.
Cordy looked appalled. "Angel and I, a couple? Nononono! Fred, we work together and, and we're friends, but that is absolutely all there is between us. No moira, no kyrumption, no romance . . . just love of the platonic kind, you know, like . . . brother and sister."
Fred sighed. "Yes, I can see the difference now." She turned to look at Buffy and Angel. They were no longer kissing, but remained on the couch talking. "Too bad. Everything fit so perfectly the other way. Now . . . feels like everything's changing." She bit her lip. "Will Angel be leaving Los Angeles and going back to Sunnydale with - her?"
"What?" exclaimed Wesley. "Of course not! Whatever gave you that idea?"
"I've been wondering the same thing as Fred," Gunn admitted. "Just look at them over there. It's obvious they want to be together."
"But they can't be together," Wesley reminded him. "You heard Angel earlier - or, well, no, you didn't because you weren't here yet, but he told us in no uncertain terms that they wouldn't do anything to endanger his soul. Moving that close to Buffy would most certainly fall under that category."
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"Angel," Buffy said out of the blue, "I think I will stay another day. Let me just call Dawn and make sure she's all right and doesn't mind me staying, okay?"
Angel's smile lit up his whole face. "Really? That'd be great! Come on, there's a phone in the office." They got up. As they walked toward the office, he asked, "What made you change your mind?"
Buffy shrugged. "Why not? As long as Dawn's okay with it and there's nothing cooking at the Hellmouth, why shouldn't I take a day off and spend it with you?" She frowned. "Unless you have something going on, of course - like a case?" They came up to the lobby desk.
"A case? You mean one that actually pays us something?" Cordy snorted. "No such luck."
"But that's good, isn't it?" asked Fred. "It means that nobody's in trouble of the demonic kind."
Wesley smiled. "Unfortunately, all it means is that we haven't been consulted about it. I'm afraid that there are always people in trouble, Fred."
"Right," declared Cordelia grimly. "So what's wrong with hoping that occasionally one of them is wealthy enough to hire us to get them out of their trouble?"
"I guess so," Fred said doubtfully.
"Nothing's wrong with it," Angel asserted. "We want to get paid. We need to get paid or we can't pay our bills. But that doesn't mean we'll turn down someone just because they're not rich." Cordelia glared at him. "Isn't that right, Wes?" he added. Cordy transferred her glare to the other man as Angel showed Buffy into the office.
"I didn't say that," she heard Cordelia - not Wesley - declare. "Our fees are based on what the client can afford, you know that, Fred - and of course we won't not help someone just because they're poor."
Then Angel closed the door, leaving her alone, and the voices subsided to an indistinguishable murmur. Buffy took a deep breath and released it slowly. She picked up the phone and dialed home.
"So when does Buffy want to leave?" Cordelia asked Angel, brightly. "We need to plan our day, you know." Off to one side, Gunn cast his eyes upward, Fred looked puzzled, and Wesley shook his head and sighed.
Angel raised an eyebrow. "Because we're so busy right now that we have to keep to a tight schedule?"
Cordelia ignored his gentle sarcasm. "You never know when a client might show up." She began flipping through the papers on the counter top.
"And if one does appear I'll be reachable," Angel assured her. "Buffy's decided to stay until tomorrow, so I'll be showing her the sights today." Cordelia's head came up sharply.
"I thought she grew up here," Gunn put in. "Hasn't she already seen all the sights?"
"I thought she was so worried about leaving Dawn alone," Cordy said, raising her own eyebrows. "Remember . . . poor Dawnie, so insecure and needy after losing both her mother and her sister? Did all that concern suddenly fly out the window?"
Angel looked at her for a moment without saying anything. "She's phoning Dawn right now, to make sure she doesn't mind her staying. If Dawn has a problem with it, Buffy will go home this morning as she originally planned."
Cordelia had the grace to look discomfited. Turning to Gunn, Angel continued, "And yes, Buffy did grow up in Los Angeles, but it's a big city. I'm sure we can find something interesting that she hasn't already seen."
Buffy came out of the office just then. "Wasn't Dawn there?" Angel asked her, his heart sinking.
"No, Dawn was home," she replied with a chuckle. "She was getting ready to go shopping with one of her girlfriends and was running late, so we didn't chat much. She said, and I quote, �Really glad you're okay, thanks for calling, I'll see you tomorrow, I hafta go now.' "
That made everyone laugh. "So much for poor needy Dawn," commented Wesley.
Buffy smiled wryly. "Oh, she's needy, all right. Just not right this minute." She rubbed her hands together, looking at Angel. "So, what's on the agenda for today?"
"Angel's planning to find something to take you to that you haven't already seen," Gunn told her.
"Great," Buffy commented. "Fred, do you have any clothes I can borrow, since I didn't think to bring any clean ones with me? You're closer to my size than Cordy."
"Oh sure!" Fred smiled brightly.
"Hey!" Cordelia protested. "Are you saying I'm overweight?"
"No, I'm saying you're overtall," Buffy said, disconcerted by her reaction. "Fred's more my height, that's all."
"Oh." Cordelia subsided, looking rather embarrassed. "Sorry. My clothes are feeling a little tight today, so I guess I'm kinda sensitive about it. Sorry."
"Probably pre-menstrual bloating," Fred commented. "I know it's about your time. It'll go away in a few days."
"Yes, thank you for that observation, Fred." Cordelia turned away, rolling her eyes.
"Come on, Buffy," an oblivious Fred continued, "let's go to my room and get you a new wardrobe!"
NINETY MINUTES LATER
"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I said we'd see the sights," Angel observed ruefully. "I was thinking more along the lines of going to a museum or an art gallery, or the planetarium . . . maybe a movie. Not this." He gestured around them.
Buffy glanced at the dank, curving walls and then at the stretch of tunnel ahead. "You mean checking out the L. A. sewer system looking for this Glue demon really wasn't what you'd planned on us doing today?" She chuckled, determined not to let the memory of the last time they�d been in a sewer - the night he�d told her he was leaving Sunnydale - dim the pleasure of being in Angel�s company now.
Angel smiled at her teasing, relieved she wasn't upset at the change in plans. "Gloogh demon," he corrected, emphasizing the hard "g" sound at the end of the word. "They're small, harmless, sorta cute, and not very intelligent - usually kept as pets by other demons. Its owner is very anxious to find it."
"So Wesley explained. In great detail," Buffy said, adding as they turned down another tunnel, "Well, at least I can honestly say that this is somewhere I never visited while I lived here. So you are showing me something new."
Angel laughed. "A memory I'm sure you'll treasure forever."
"It's funny, though," Buffy mused. "In my dream last night I was down here - with you." They passed a pile of old rags and rotting food and other things she preferred not to look at too closely. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. "Phew! Why do sewers always stink?"
"That's their nature," he said absently, scanning the area for signs their quarry had passed this way. "They smell a lot better now than they did a hundred years ago, let me tell you. What do you mean you were here in your dream? I thought you dreamed about my epiphany and then about me being in Sunnydale."
"I did. This was the third dream."
Angel stopped. "The third dream? How many dreams did you have last night? Did you get any rest?"
Buffy chuckled. "Not as much as I'd've liked, no. I only had the three dreams, and that was plenty, thank you very much. This last one was weird, though. The other two showed me things that had actually happened - well, sort of - but this one was really off the wall. I mean, we've hunted demons together, sure, but not in L.A. Until today, that is."
Something flickered across Angel's face, but she didn't notice. "Oh, and there was that demon - what was its name? The one you killed when I came to see you that Thanksgiving after you left Sunnydale, remember? It came crashing through the window - a Mork demon or something like that. It had that red ruby thing in its forehead that you smashed."
"Mohra," Angel said. He wet his lips. "It was a Mohra demon. It was in your dream?"
"That's the one," Buffy said cheerfully. "Anyway, in my dream you didn't kill it when it first showed up, so you and I were down in the sewers looking for it." She hesitated. "We . . . had a discussion about how hard it was seeing each other again."
"Then what happened?" Angel's voice sounded strange. She looked at him. "Are you okay?"
He nodded and after a doubtful moment she continued. "Well, we decided to split up - I mean, to go look for the Mohra." She frowned. "It got kinda vague then. I got a phone call from Cordy that you'd found it and killed it, then everything went all fuzzy again. You know how dreams are. The next thing I remember is standing on the boardwalk at the beach. I felt your presence - and there you were, walking toward me. In the sunlight. And we kissed."
The memory brought a lump to her throat. Huskily she said, "And then I woke up. Weird, huh?" She cleared her throat. "I mean, God knows I've dreamed like ten zillion times about you turning human, but they've never been based on a real memory before." Shrugging, she glanced at him, rather shy after this disclosure. Angel was standing very still. Her gaze sharpened. "Angel, what's wrong?"
Angel shook his head. "Nothing." He struggled for composure. How had Buffy dreamed about That Day? It shouldn't be possible; as far as she was concerned it had never happened.
Buffy came closer. "Angel, that's not a Nothing face you have on - it's a Something face." She drew in her breath sharply, eyes widening. "Don't tell me you dreamed that one too!"
"No!" With huge effort, Angel pulled himself together. "No, I didn't. I, uh - " For the unlife of him, he couldn't think of anything to say to divert her from this subject. Just then his cell phone beeped. Saved by the bell. He pulled it out of his pocket, almost dropping it in his haste. "Hello? Yes, Wesley." He listened. "That's great. Thanks for letting me know. Yes, I'll see you later."
"That was Wes," he reported unnecessarily, pocketing the phone again. "He and Fred found the Gloogh and it's been returned to its owner. He paid us two hundred dollars." He summoned a smile, hoping it didn't look as fake as it felt. "Now I can afford to take you out to dinner tonight."
"That's good," said Buffy, still watching him with concern. "But let's get back to whatever is bothering you. Is it - my dream? Because you were human in it?"
Angel turned and began walking in the direction they'd come from. Buffy grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. "Angel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I shouldn't have told you about it."
"No." He shook his head. "No, it's not your fault, Buffy. I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. Your dream reminded me of that day, that's all, and I just - don't like remembering it. It was . . . painful . . . watching you walk away from me."
She slipped her arms around him. "I know." Her voice was muffled by his shirt. "It was painful doing it too." Angel closed his eyes, holding her close and breathing in the fragrant scent of her hair. "Is that the day Cordelia said they weren't supposed to mention?"
Angel gave a little start. "You heard that?"
Buffy nodded. "I was up on the landing." She also recalled Cordy saying something about Angel setting a record for moodiness afterward. Impulsively she said, "Angel, we can't go back to those days, and we don't need to. That's what the other dream was telling us. It was a message from the Powers, I believe that with all my heart."
She could feel his struggle in the rigidity of his body. "God," he said tightly, "I want to believe it; you know I do."
"Trust your instincts," she murmured, tilting her head back to see him, "Listen to them instead of to your fears. Oh, and in case you don't believe my dream, last night Lorne also told me we should be together, that we needed to find a compromise."
Angel closed his eyes. After a second a corner of his mouth quirked slightly. He opened hs eyes again. "Well, that settles it, then. If Lorne says it's okay . . ." Bending down, he kissed her.
After it ended, Buffy said rather breathlessly, "Well! I should have mentioned Lorne's name earlier." She studied Angel's face. "You sure you're okay? You still look, I don't know . . . strange."
"I'm fine." He smiled, stroking her face. "Thanks to you." Comforted, Buffy smiled back and pulled on his hand. "Come on, let's get me some lunch. That donut didn't go very far; I'm starved."
As Angel fell in beside her the smile faded from his face. How, he wondered again, had she dreamed about a day that didn't exist for her? And what did it mean that she had?
LOS ANGELES COUNTY MUSEUM OF ART (LACMA)
"I'm having a good time," Buffy admitted to Angel. They were seated in the coffee shop of the museum, ostensibly so Buffy could quench her thirst with a Diet Coke but in reality it was an excuse for both of them to rest their feet. "Who'd have thought that LACMA could improve so much in the years since I used to get dragged here on school field trips?"
Angel chuckled. "So you're not bored?"
"Absolutely not. The exhibit on women's fashions was really interesting - especially since you had firsthand knowledge of so many of them. I thought the way you knew just how those gowns and underclothes fastened was especially fascinating," Buffy added, straight-faced. "I mean, we couldn't even see the backs of the exhibits, but you knew all about the dozens of hooks or buttons that were there."
"I wasn't the only one there who knew that," said Angel evasively. "Remember that one woman who commented that it was only the rich ladies who wore them, because only they had maids to fasten them up? She knew about it too."
"True," Buffy said, then changed the subject. "I may pick your brain to get ideas for a Halloween costume this year." She thought that over briefly. "Or not. I think the next time I dress up for Halloween I'm going as Xena or Wonder Woman or that girl with the great hair from the X-Men. Storm, that's her name. No more helpless little ladies for me."
"Good idea," agreed Angel. "You never know when another Ethan Rayne might show up."
"Or worse," she said, grimacing. "Two years ago some idiot accidentally summoned a fear demon named Gachnar in the middle of his fraternity's Halloween party. People were freaking out all over the place - hacking off their hair . . . hiding in a closet, crying. Oz turned into his wolf form. Not fun." She shivered and took a restorative sip from the cup.
"I can imagine," Angel said, having some knowledge of fear demons. "How did you stop it?"
Buffy sipped at her Diet Coke and shrugged. "It wasn't too hard. I just stomped him out of existence."
"Huh?" Angel frowned in puzzlement. "What do you mean, you stomped him?"
She shrugged again. "Just what I said." By way of illustration she lifted one foot and brought it down hard on the floor, causing the people at the tables closest to them to look around curiously. "Gachnar was only about three inches tall."
Angel stared at her. Then he burst into quiet laughter. Buffy giggled. "That must have made quite a mess," he said, still chuckling.
"There was definitely an �ick' factor involved. I had to throw those shoes away," she remembered. Slurping up the last of her drink, she added, "What's next on the agenda?"
Angel looked at his watch. "Three o'clock. We could try to catch a movie before dinner, if you like. Or there's an art gallery a few blocks away."
"Thanks," Buffy said hastily, "but would you mind if we just went back to the hotel? I have to admit, I wouldn't mind resting a little before dinner. Weird dreams didn't exactly make for a restful night."
"Sounds good to me too," admitted Angel. He paid their bill and they made their way to a secluded corner whose door opened into the corridor that led to the sewer access. "Buffy, I need to take the sewers but there's no reason you have to go back this way." Angel's car was parked several blocks away, in a nicely shaded street that would give him plenty of protection from the sun once he emerged from the sewer.
"I don't mind," she told him. "It gives us more time togther."
Looking into her eyes, Angel touched her cheek, then took her hand. "Then let's go."
"How was LACMA?" Cordelia greeted them when they arrived at the Hyperion half an hour later. She came out of the office. "Did you see their exhibit on women's dresses?"
"Absolutely," said Buffy. "I wouldn't miss that. It was good - lots of people there." She hopped up onto the counter and leaned back on her hands, swinging her feet.
"I hear there's a Dior and a Balenciaga and a Chanel in the collection. Did you see them?" Cordelia's eyes were bright with anticipation.
"Uh - " Buffy glanced at Angel, who shrugged. "Yeah, I think I remember seeing those names in the window."
Cordelia looked at her with pity. "You think? Three of the most famous designers of all time, and you think they were represented?" Propping her chin up on her hand, she sighed. "I've been dying to see that exhibit."
"So why haven't you gone?" asked Buffy idly. "Has it been that busy around here?"
Cordy shrugged and straightened up. "It's more fun to go with another person, and so far I haven't been able to talk Fred into it. Fashion isn't exactly her thing, you know. I've got time; the exhibit will be here for three months." She slid smoothly onto a different subject. "Where are you guys going for dinner tonight?"
"Mario's," Angel replied. "Seven-thirty reservation."
Cordelia gaped. "Mario's? How did you get a reservation for tonight? They're booked weeks in advance - months!"
"I called David Nabbit," said Angel. He made a wry face. "Now I owe him a favor."
"I'll say," Cordelia agreed, with emphasis. "A big one! Mario's." She whistled, then looked at Buffy. "So what are you going to wear?"
Buffy grimaced. "Guess I'll hit Fred up again. She had a dark red dress in her closet that should do."
Cordy shook her head. "Huh-uh. I know that dress and it's the wrong color for you." She held out her hand to Angel. "Credit card, please."
"Excuse me?"
"Your credit card," she repeated. "Buffy and I are going shopping. If you're gonna drag the girl down here to help you fight demons without even letting her pack a bag, the least you can do is buy her something to wear to dinner." She cocked her head, wiggling her fingers impatiently.
"Cordy - " began Buffy, sitting up with a jerk.
"I didn't drag her - " protested Angel at the same time. He stopped, looked at Buffy, then back at Cordy and smiled. Pulling his wallet out he extracted a gold card and handed it over. "Thank you," he told her. "Take my car." He gave his keys to Cordy too, and then looked at Buffy. "Have fun."
"Oh, she will," smiled Cordy, tucking the card in her pants pocket. "I guarantee it."
Buffy wasn't so sure. It wasn't that she didn't like shopping for clothes - when she had the time and money for it. She did, just as much as the next girl, but for Cordelia shopping was more than just a means to update her wardrobe, it was more like a religious quest. She had once spent an excruciating four hours in a mall with Cordy, looking for the perfect pair of earrings to go with a certain outfit, and she had no desire to repeat the experience.
"Uh, Cordy," she attempted as she followed her into the office. "I really would like to rest before dinner, and, and take another shower, so - "
"Don't worry." Cordy smiled at her, slipping her purse strap over her arm. "We're shopping for you, not for me. We'll be back in an hour. Well, maybe an hour and a half. We'll need to get you shoes too."
Buffy sighed and resigned herself to the invitable. To her surprise Cordelia was as good as her word. Slightly more than an hour after setting foot in the mall they were on their way back, Buffy with a lovely dress of midnight-blue velvet and matching pumps, and Cordy with Godiva chocolates which Buffy had insisted Angel would want her to have.
Cordy had snorted. "Only because he knows I'll keep them in the office for everybody to share in." To which Buffy had replied that in that case they'd get two boxes - one for the office and one for Cordy to take home with her. The two large, gold-ribboned boxes lay on the seat between them. Cordelia glanced at them now. "Thanks for the candy."
"You're welcome. Thank you for taking me shopping. It's a beautiful dress." Buffy eyed her a moment. "Why did you, Cordy? You haven't exactly been all open-arms about me being here."
"I know." Cordelia stopped for a red light. "That's why." She sighed, looking over at Buffy. "I wanted to make up for the way I've been acting. I told Angel I'd try not to expect the worst when it comes to the two of you - so I figure that by helping you find a dress that looks as great on you as this one does, I'm demonstrating my faith in you." Buffy smiled a little at that.
The light changed to green. The car started forward with a jerk that brought them up against their shoulder harnesses. "Sorry," Cordy apologized. She went on, "And I've been thinking about what you said last night - that maybe Angel fired us to try to keep us out of danger . . . and I've also been thinking that maybe a part of the blame is ours."
"Yours?" Buffy turned sideways in the seat to regard Cordelia. "What do you mean?"
For a moment Cordy was silent. "When Angel started in with his Darla-fixation last year, we . . . weren't exactly oozing sympathy and understanding. We were more of the �Get over it already" attitude. We couldn't understand why he was doing those things." She sighed as she negotiated a right turn. "More to the point, we didn't try to understand, not really. And we should have."
She glanced over at Buffy. "Didn't Angel tell you any of this?" They came up to a stop sign. Cordelia braked, glanced to both sides, and went through the intersection.
Buffy said slowly, "All Angel told me was that he got obsessed with Darla; first with helping her when she was human; and then later, after she was Turned again, with finding her and stopping her and Dru. He said it got to the point where it consumed all his time, that he couldn't think of anything else - that he was neglecting the business and his friends."
"Did he tell you why he fired us?" Cordelia's voice was quiet but her hands were clenched tight around the steering wheel. Buffy had no trouble seeing that this was a hurt that ran deep; something she'd already guessed the night before.
"Maybe you should ask Angel that," she suggested gently as they pulled up in front of the Hyperion.
Cordelia was silent while she disengaged the key and unbuckled her seat belt. Then - "Maybe I will." She opened her door and got out. Gathering up their purchases, Buffy did the same on her side, and they walked up the path and into the hotel.
END OF PART EIGHT
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