Title: When Good Spells Go Bad

Author: Chelle

Rating: R to NC17

Category: C/A angst and romance

Content: C/A and B/A break-up

 Summary: Luckylyn’s Bad Spell Challenge

            After the prom in Season 3 of Buffy, Buffy convinces Willow to perform a spell to make Angel realize they belong together and of course it all goes wrong. Past Angel goes to bed at his mansion in Sunnydale and then wakes up with Cordy and Connor in LA (this is the morning after Provider). While future Angel goes to bed with Cordy and Connor and wakes up in past Sunnydale. He enlists the help of the Scoobies so he can return to his family.

            Requirements:

            1) Angel and Cordy romance

            2) Future Angel jealous of the whole Cordelia Wesley thing

            3) Past Angel coping with baby Connor

            4) Buffy coping with an Angel she doesn't understand

Spoilers: Season 3 Buffy and Season 3 ATS

Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.

Notes: I am probably the worst writer on this board and this is the first challenge that I have ever taken but I just couldn’t pass up this great sounding idea. I hope I do it at least a minute amount of justice Luckylyn.

Feedback: Sure

 *By the way, in my fic, Angel told Buffy he was leaving Sunnydale when he broke up with her.

 

 

 

            Part One

 

            Angel sniffed his tuxedo before hanging it back in place. Buffy had changed her perfume. It was nice. Different, but still nice.

            Angel walked to the broken window of the mansion and looked out at the night. A pang of guilt hit him as he wondered if Buffy had made it home yet. He should have stayed. No, he should have never gone in the first place. He knew that the moment he saw her, standing there with Giles. Looking so young and innocent, like she belonged. Like a normal girl. That’s what she wanted. To be just a girl. That’s what he had tried to give her tonight and for that one moment, with his arms wrapped around her in their first dance, he thought he had succeeded. Until the music ended and he saw that look in her eye.  The one that said ‘Let’s talk’. Why couldn’t she just let it be. He had told her that it wouldn’t change anything. Didn’t she know how hard this was for him? He closed his eyes at the thought of the tears she had shed outside of the school gym, trying to persuade him to change his mind. “Angel, you don‘t have to go. I will be fine with the way our relationship has been. I love you so much. Please don’t try and make some dramatic sacrifice for me because you think my life will be better without you. You don’t have to do that for me.” His guilt deepened at the thought of how he had just walked away, leaving her there alone with a simple “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” But how was he supposed to respond? She never once thought that maybe leaving Sunnydale was not only for her own good but for his as well. Things had been so different since he had been brought back. Before, he had only existed to help the Slayer, to love her and keep her safe. Now, he felt there had to be more. He still loved Buffy. There was no doubt of that. But something pulled at him, whispered of a greater purpose. A life outside of the shadows where he waited. An identity. A mission.

            Deciding to stay in the mansion for the rest of the night, Angel turned from the window and headed back inside, his decision never wavering. He could brood and she could cry, but soon he would leave and they both would be the better for it.

 

*****

 

            Buffy buried her head in her crumpled pink dress and sobbed. Willow had to say yes. After all, they were best friends and she had talked herself blue in the face trying to convince her best friend and witch to help her make Angel see just where he belonged. Not to mention that she would die if Angel left her.

            Buffy raised her head and wiped the mascara from her cheeks when she heard Willow return to the room. “Okay, I’ll do it,” the nervous redhead began. “I mean, it actually is very simple in theory.”

            “I thought you said love spells were complicated and often ended in disaster and chaos,” Buffy sniffled.

            “Yeah, they do. But this won’t be a love spell. We don’t need that because, hey, already got that goin’ for ya’. We just need a spell that will make things a little clearer for Angel. Show him exactly where he is needed and belongs.”

            Buffy could feel the relief starting to bubble inside. “Thanks Will.

            What can I do to help?”

 

*****

 

            Angel stared at the two most important beings in his life as they drooled all over his bed. How had he gotten so lucky? He should be afraid of the happiness that filled him as he watched Cordy and Connor sleep, but somehow he couldn’t. For the first time in his life, he belonged. He belonged here with the two souls that slept peacefully beside him, just as much as they belonged here with him.

            He smiled to himself as Cordelia mumbled about new snow boots in her sleep. This incredible woman had shown him how it felt not only to have a friend but to be one. She had shown him what true devotion to the mission meant and how to become more than a dark shadow in the world. His smile grew even wider as he remembered something she said a few days ago. “Just because you’re dead, doesn’t mean you can’t live a little big guy.” God he loved this woman. This woman who had stood beside him as he found his purpose, his mission. They had been through so much together. He had thought that his time in Sunnydale was what Whistler meant by becoming somebody. That that was what his purpose in life was. He had been so wrong. Sunnydale had simply been a warm-up for what his life would become. In Sunnydale, he had been a brooding monster, grabbing at the few crumbs of the first real affection he had been shown in centuries. Someone who’s only identity came via the Slayer. Here, in L.A., he had become so much more. A friend, a father, and … He slowly reached his hand across Connor to touch Cordelia’s hair. What would she think if he told her? Would she love him back the way he wanted her to? Angel’s eyes drifted closed as he thought of a hundred ways to tell Cordy that he was in love with her.

 

*****

 

            Angel’s senses were very acute. He could track a person for miles just on scent alone. Although in many instances he was thankful for such a keen sense of smell, there were times that he had smelled things that made him curse such a gift. This was one of those times.  He reluctantly opened his eyes, wary of the type of demon that could emit such an offending odor. He focused , ready to face whatever fierce and vicious … bunny? Angel closed his eyes. He was dreaming.

            “Uh-em,” a feminine voice floated to his ears, demanding attention.  He opened his eyes again as the diapered baby’s bottom was removed from his sight and replaced by two hazel eyes that looked at him questioningly. “Well?” she demanded. What the hell was going on?  “It’s your turn at poop patrol, Angel.” Although understanding was still far from his reach, recognition finally hit.

            “Cordelia?”

 

            Part Two

 

            Buffy had a lot on her plate. The Mayor’s ascension and Faith’s turn to the ‘dark side’ should be consuming her every thought, but somehow she just couldn’t be bothered with those things right now.  She looked at her watch again as she paced her bedroom floor. Six hours. They had done the spell six hours ago and still no Angel rushing back into her arms. She walked to the window across the room and looked out at the beautiful spring morning, calming her anxiety by scolding herself mentally. ‘Okay Buffy. The town is bathed in morning sunlight. It’s not like he can just stroll right over.’

            She left the window and began to pace again. Six hours, one and a half minutes. Oh this was ridiculous. Angel was probably suffering just as badly as she was. She smiled as she imagined him pacing the mansion floors like a caged panther, looking out at the morning and willing night to come. Everything would be alright now, she assured herself. Angel would know exactly where he belonged. More importantly he would truly understand that staying in Sunnydale was the best thing for her. After all, that is why he was leaving in the first place, to do what was best for her. She guessed that she should feel lucky to have a boyfriend who arranged his very existence to suit her wants, needs, and happiness. Now he would stay in Sunnydale, safely tucked away in his old mansion, waiting for the brief moments they were allowed together and the battles for which he would be needed.

            Six hours, three minutes. Okay, now this was not so much ridiculous as it was unbearable. Buffy pulled on her sweater and headed for her bedroom door. Angel may not be able to walk out into the daylight, but she certainly could.

 

*****

       

            He couldn‘t hear anything. No cars on the busy L.A. street outside, no humans milling around downstairs, and most importantly, no hearts beating in a rhythmic slumber next to him. Anger stirred inside his body at the thought that Cordelia would purposely leave the warm and comfortable cocoon they had settled into the night before. Why would she purposely ruin his perfect mood by willingly taking Connor - and herself - away from his bed? Anger gave way to panic at the sudden thought that ‘willingly’ might not be the right word. As he jumped from the comfort of the bed, Angel’s eyes shot open, scanning the room for any sign of just where Cordy and Connor could have gone.  “Cordy!“ Panic and anger completely fled as confusion now consumed him. His eyes darted from wall to wall of the old abandoned mansion.

            “Cordy?“

            What the hell had happened to him? He was being punished that was what was happening to him. Of course, that had to be it because the whole world knows that Angel can never be happy. And now that the soul was bound, the powers, or fate, or Wolfram and Hart had found another way to inflict pain on him by trying to separate him from his family. Well, they had gone too far this time. In two hours he would be back in Los Angeles, finding Cordy and Connor, and making whatever ominous power that had caused this pay in a very painful and horrific way. Angel crossed the room in three long strides and opened the door without thinking. “Ugh!” He fell back into the shade of the room, kicking the door closed with his foot. Daylight.  Scrambling back to his feet, he began to pace the mansion floor like a caged lion. Every minute that ticked by increased his agony. Each second was an eternity of not knowing if Cordy and Connor were safe.  He had to get out of here and back to them.

            On his third pass by the colossal stone fireplace, something caught the corner of his eye, something familiar. It was his sketchpad. The one he used for special drawings. The one with the soft leather binding. And most importantly, the one that was supposed to be inserted snuggly in the bookshelf in his suite at the hotel. Nausea crept over his body as he stared at the offending object. Unable to move, he tried to push a terrifying and impossible thought out of his mind. What if he hadn’t been simply sent back to Sunnydale, but BACK to Sunnydale. He picked up the sketch pad to find out.

 

*****

 

            Buffy stood outside of the mansion door. She had been so eager to burst in and have Angel tell her that he couldn’t leave, that everything would be alright; but the walk over had given her time to think, really think about what she - and Willow - had actually done.  She had been responsible for using magic on Angel without his knowledge. She swallowed down her guilt and made sure her head was held high. She had done what needed to be done. After all, that was what part of being the Slayer meant, making tough decisions for the good of everyone. Hoping that by convincing herself that what she had done was right and that by believing that she could make everyone else believe it also, she slowly opened the door of the mansion. “Angel?”

            Angel, with his back to the door and still unable to move, closed his eyes. That voice drifting in from the doorway sealed his fate, made his nightmare real. It wasn’t the voice of the woman he had met with just months ago, the one that had grown up and moved on. It was the voice of the little frightened and insecure girl he had left behind him for what seemed like a lifetime ago. He had to make sure this was real before he could confirm that he was literally in hell.  His voice came out in a shocked whisper. “Buffy?”

            Buffy smiled. It was just like when he came back from hell and realized that he had found her again. Any second he would rush to her feet, encircle her waist, and sob her name. She took a deep breath as Angel sat down the sketchpad and turned to face her ...  Any second now.

 

*****

 

            Angel stared blankly at Cordelia, honing all of his senses in on the two beings in front of him and trying to assess the nightmare he had found himself in. “Angel?” Cordelia looked at him expectantly and was met with Angel’s continued blank stare. “Fine, I’ll change Mr.  Super Duper Poop Producer here, but you owe me, I got last night’s too.” Angel watched as this beautiful and mature version of Cordelia Chase glided across the room and through a set of French doors to a basinet in the adjoining room, cooing and awing at the child she held in her arms. His eyes darted from wall to wall of the hotel suite. What the hell had happened to him?

            “Angel, you can stop the silent treatment,” Cordelia called from the connecting room. “It worked, okay? I’m changing Connor now but you owe me big time mister since I changed and fed him all day yesterday while you were out on you quest for fortune. Oh, by the way, I hope the shirtless thing isn’t to prove me wrong about certain ‘comments’ you claim I’ve made about your weight lately. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love a shirtless Angel as much as the next girl, but really.” Cordelia’s tone changed to that of playful babble as she began to direct the rest of her conversation to the baby in the crib. “That’s right. He owes me big time doesn’t he? Like a ski condo ..or a boat….”

            Angel’s voice tried to catch up with the thoughts that were racing through his mind and the babble that was going on in the next room.  “Mansion,” was all he managed to say, interrupting Cordelia’s one sided conversation.

            “Mansion huh?” she answered. Finishing her task, she gave Connor his pacifier and left him to lay sleepily in the crib. “Well, I don’t think our share of the money would go quite that far. Maybe in your day but… “ Cordelia stopped short at the doors, really looking at Angel for the first time that morning. He looked so different, not just physically. His eyes, they looked so .. lost. “Angel?” Thoughts of last night’s battle flashed through her mind as she tried to remember if he had been hurt. She hesitantly closed the distance between them, worriedly reaching out to touch his chest. “Angel, are you al…” Angel felt like melting ice as soon as he felt her skin against his. Roughly grabbing her wrist, he removed the scorching palm from his body, never releasing his grip.

            “I was in the mansion just last night. How did I get here?” he asked through gritted teeth.

            Cordelia tried to soothe the tremble that was rising in her throat, taking control of it before she dared to speak. “Angel, your scaring me, and your hurting me. Your not acting like yourself. Your not …” Realization made Cordelia’s statement hang unfinished. Somehow she knew. It wasn‘t anything specific. She really didn’t understand how she knew. But what she did know was that the Angel she fell asleep with last night, was not the Angel in front of her. She wrenched her wrist from his easing grip and took a few steps back. “Your not yourself, are you? I mean your Angel, right?”

 

            “…”

 

            Cordelia swallowed hard before finishing the rest of her thought.

            “But your not Angel, Angel, are you? Not our Angel anyway.”

            “No, I don’t think I am.”

 

*****

 

            “I need to see Giles.”

            Okay not the response she was expecting. “Why do you need to see Giles?”

            “You wouldn’t understand. I can’t .. I’m not ..” Angel ran a hand through his hair and tried to calm himself. He couldn’t panic. He needed to be focused if he was going to find a way back to Cordelia and Connor. A little more composed, he began again. “I need to ask him some specific questions about my curse,” he lied.

            The spell hadn’t worked. Well, at least it hadn’t backfired and made anything worse than it already was. Besides, Angel said he wouldn’t leave until after the Mayor’s ascension and there were other ways to convince him to stay. “Okay, we’ll go over tonight and ..”

            “Now.”

            “Now? But Angel it can wait until ..” Buffy had never seen the look of determination that Angel was shooting at her. She decided not to try and convince him to wait. “Grab a blanket. We’ll take the sewers.”

 

*****

 

            Wesley looked through the office window, studying his friend who sat quietly on the hotel sofa. “It could be some type of amnesia.”

            “It’s not Wes.”

            “Cordelia how can you be sure?”

            “I don’t know. I just ..know. That vampire sitting out there is not the Angel we know. Besides, I believe him.”

            “Cordelia, what you are talking about is time travel or at least time exchange. Such things have only been discussed in theory. It’s just not a plausible explanation.”

            “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? After all of the things you have seen and experienced in this world, and in others, you’re telling me that you don’t believe in time travel.”

            Wesley took a deep cleansing breath. “You do raise a valid point.  But the question remains. If ‘our’ Angel isn’t sitting outside of this office, then where is he?”

            “I don’t know.” Cordelia looked out into the lobby, catching Angel’s eyes and heading for the office door. “But we’re going to find out.”

 

 

*****

        

 Part Three

           

“I don’t even know where to begin.” Angel leaned forward in the library office chair, hands clasped beneath his chin and staring off into the distance. Giles studied the vampire, quietly prepared to listen to whatever he had to say. Angel took an unnecessary breath and gathered his thoughts, hoping that the former watcher would believe and help him. “Last night I was peacefully sleeping two and a half years in the future…”

 

*****

 

            Cordelia glanced at Wesley, who remained at the hotel counter, and sat on the lobby sofa beside Angel. “I want to ask you some questions if that’s alright?” she asked cautiously.

            Angel looked down at his feet and caught sight of the red and soon to be bruising ring around Cordelia’s wrist out of the corner of his eye. “Sorry, about earlier,” he said softly, nodding toward her wound.

            Cordelia massaged the injury with her other hand. “That’s okay, you’ve done worse,” she said matter-of-factly.

            “I’ve done …What did you want to ask me?”

            “Well, Wesley says in order to find out just where Angel…”

            “I am Angel.”

            “Ookaay, if we’re to find out where L.A. Angel has gone and how to get him back, we need to know everything you can remember about last night.”

            Angel stared for a moment and began in a very condescending tone.  “Last night I met Buffy at the prom. We danced, I left, fell asleep, here I am.” He knew he was being an ass but this whole time travel shit was giving him an imaginary headache and Buffy’s lingering perfume on his skin from the night before was making him choke on several forms of guilt. Guilt for deciding to leave her, guilt for hurting her, but most of all guilt because that smell should make him want to move heaven and hell to get back to her side. And it didn’t. Worst of all, his skin still tingled from Cordelia’s touch this morning. He felt remorse for grabbing her the way he had. But it had startled him. The only person that he had had that kind of contact with in at least a hundred years had been Buffy. Why had she touched him like that anyway? And why couldn’t he stop thinking about it? He was a horrible man.

            Even though he was being an asshole, Angel’s brief summation let Cordelia know just what Angel she was dealing with. She cocked an eyebrow and addressed him in her best parental tone. “Well, I’ll forgive the attitude for now since I now know just what version of the Sunnydale Angel I’m dealing with. But just know that if you want to get back, we’re your only hope. So it might pay to be just a little nicer.” Cordelia stood and headed back to the hotel office.

            Standing quickly, Angel caught her attention before she and Wesley reached the door. “I wasn’t trying to be rude or difficult it’s just … what did you mean by ‘version of Sunnydale Angel’?” his train of thought shifted as he suddenly felt insulted.

            Cordelia stopped short of entering the office and turned to face him. “You know, post-hell, early break-up, pre-ascension Angel.”

            “What?”

            “Never mind. Listen,” she said a little quieter and somewhat sympathetically as she took a few steps back towards him. “Through that doorway there’s a kitchen with a microwave and blood in the frig. Why don’t you go in there and have a nice warm cup o’swine while I go and talk to Wesley here. Okay?”

            “Cup o’…” Oh, pigs blood. “Actually, I really would like a shower.

            Do I have a room here?”

            “The room you woke up in this morning is yours. You should have everything you need in there.”

            Wesley stepped closer to Cordelia and whispered, “What about Connor?”

            In a hushed tone that she knew could still be overheard she answered, “I put him in Fred’s room and I’ve got the baby monitor on. He’ll be fine.” She reassured her friend.

            “The baby belongs to Fred then?” Angel asked about the friend he had yet to meet.

            “No, the baby isn’t Fred’s. It’s … It’s …” Cordelia panicked. How could she explain to a Sunnydale version of Angel about Connor. The poor guy just woke up more than two years into what probably seemed like to him some bizarre future world. “He’s mine,” came the lie from her mouth so crisp and clear that it sounded like the truth to even her. Turning to Wesley just in time to see his disapproving look, she headed back to the office.

 

*****

 

            Buffy brushed a spec of lent from her jeans and nonchalantly tried to peek up at the closed library office again. Angel had barely spoken to her on the way over, and now she had been completely and literally shut out. Well, he may not want her to know what was bothering him but she knew that Giles would tell her…eventually.

            Her ears strained to make out the muffled tones vibrating from the office. It wasn’t fair, she was a superhero. Shouldn’t she come with other powers besides superhuman strength. Some that would make eavesdropping a little easier. She stood and began to stealthily creep closer to the office door. Well, there was always the old fashioned way.

            “Hey Buffy!” came the cheerful redhead’s voice from the swinging library doors, making Buffy step back from the office, embarrassed at her faux pas. “Watcha up to?”

            Buffy slumped back down in her chair and pouted. “Shameless eavesdropping.”

            “Oh,” Willow replied sympathetically at her friend’s obvious embarrassment. “Who’s in with Giles?” she asked as she slung her backpack onto the table and took the seat next to Buffy.

            Buffy sighed, “Angel.”

            “What are the two of you doing here? I thought you’d be at the mansion making with the smoochies now that he knows he can stay.”

            “That’s just it Will. I don’t think the spell worked. At least not the way it was supposed to. He’s not acting like himself. I was alone with him for more than an hour this morning and he hardly said a word to me. Yet he seems to be carrying on the longest conversation I’ve every witnessed him have behind that door.”

 

            “…”

 

            “With Giles.” Buffy emphasized, a little aggravated that her friend was not more upset about the situation than she was.

            Willow felt a small twinge of insecurity at the thought that the spell they had tried the night before had failed. Maybe it was the incantation. After all, her Latin wasn‘t exactly perfect. The look on Buffy‘s face broke her heart. If the spell had failed then she would just have to try again. “Don’t worry Buffy. We’ll figure it out. And when we do, we’ll fix it.”

 

*****

 

            “So,” Giles began while wiping his glasses. “You are Angel, but not the Angel that we have all known for the past three years.”

            “Right.”

            “You fell asleep last night, or should I say two and a half years from now, at the hotel you own in L.A. All the while unaware that an unknown enemy of yours had cast some sort of black magic spell to transport you back in time.”

            “That pretty much covers it.”

            “What did Buffy have to say about all of this?”

            “You believe me?” Angel asked insecurely.

            “Trust me, I’m as shocked as you are. But I’ve seen enough things during my time here at the Hellmouth to know that I shouldn’t risk not believing you.”

            “I didn’t tell her. I thought I shouldn’t. I don’t know exactly how all of this works and I don’t want to mess with what happens to me in the future. I’m still afraid that just telling you might screw things up in some way.”

            “I don’t think that is our biggest concern. From the little I have studied about time travel, the past, once set right again, remains the same as it always was. Meaning that if we succeed at returning you to your time, none of us will be any wiser about what has happened. Events, as you remember them, should not change.”

            “And if we don’t succeed?”

 

*****

 

            Angel’s thoughts swarmed as he moved down the hotel hallway to his room. He wondered if his future self’s new friends knew that he had been here before and what he had done to the people here. Of course they didn’t. They still seemed to care about him. They only knew about the terrible things he was capable of as Angelus. If they knew the kind of cruelty he was capable of with his soul in place, they would never be his friends.

            Angel stopped at the entrance of the room, taking inventory of its contents. If that baby down the hall was Cordelia’s, why did he have a nursery for it connected to his room? He didn’t enter. Instead he turned his attention to the soft heartbeat down the hall.

 

*****

 

            Angel didn‘t know exactly how long he had been staring at the child.  He guessed it had been a while. “Why did you lie?” he questioned Cordelia, sensing her in the doorway of Fred’s room.

            “Lie?” she asked innocently.

            “About the baby,” he replied, a little annoyed. “He’s mine, isn’t he?”

            Cordelia quietly closed the door behind her, leaving the room barely lit by the sun glowing through the curtained window. Crossing the room and sitting on Fred’s bed, she looked down into the basinet.  “It was so hard for you to accept the first time around, I guess I just thought it would confuse this version of you even worse. And right now we need to concentrate on getting things back to normal.  What tipped you off?”

            “You mean besides the baby furniture in my room?” he whispered.

            She looked up and weakly smiled at him, realizing just how ill thought out her lie had been.

            “It wasn’t just that,” he continued. “Everyone has a unique sent. I can smell him. What he is. He’s me .. Part of him anyway.” Angel looked back down at the baby, a little disturbed.

            “I know it’s a little shocking and a lot to take in,” Cordelia replied in a tone that seemed to soothe his soul.

            “Actually, sensing myself in him is not the thing that’s bothering

            me. It’s the other part I sense. It’s familiar but it’s…”

            “Darla.”

            “That’s not possible - as if any of this is - but Darla’s dead. I killed her myself.”

            “Well, she came back courtesy of a local evil law firm and you two

…”

 

            “I wouldn’t do that.”

            “Oh, but you did.”

            Their rising voices made Connor stir in his sleep. Both stilling, they fell into silence for a moment.

            Angel tried to process the fact that he would have done what Cordelia had said he had. Trying to find an answer as to why he would, one came to him. “Angelus.”

            “No,” Cordelia whispered. “You didn’t need any assistance from him.  You pulled off that stunt all by your lonesome … among other thing,” she ended in a sarcastic murmur.

            Angel was disgusted. What had his future self become? Is this what he left Sunnydale for? “Why?”

            “Oh, you were going through a ‘dark’ time,” she emphasized with hand quotations.

            “And Darla?”

            “Dead … again.”

            Angel rubbed his face with both hands and quietly rounded the basinet, taking a seat next to Cordelia on the bed. “None of this makes any sense.”

            Both Cordelia and Angel stared at the crib in front of them for several minutes. One afraid to ask another question, the other afraid to answer it. Finally Angel broke the silence. “There’s more isn’t there? To this ‘dark’ period of mine. I did more than just sleep with Darla didn’t I?”

            “Believe me. You don’t wanna know.”

            “Why are you all still here, you, Wesley, and the other two.”

            “Gunn and Fred.”

            “Right. I mean, I must have done some unspeakable things but you all obviously stayed, or let me stay. I don’t understand why.”

            Cordelia turned and looked at him with sadness. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

            “What do you mean by that?”

            “Well, here in L.A. we’re all like a family. And you can get mad at family, you can not speak to them for a while, or not agree with decisions that they make, but in the end your there for them no matter what. You love them and you never give up on them. L.A. Angel knows what that feels like but you’ve never had that. Have you?”

 

            “…”

 

            “…”

 

            “Well, now that I know why I woke up with a baby in my face, I have just one more question about this morning.”

            “Okay, shoot.”

            “Why did I wake up with you in my bed?”

            Cordelia’s throat suddenly felt dry. She could feel her pulse pounding in her neck. Clumsily she stood. “First of all. I prefer on top ..the word. I mean on top of your bed as apposed to in it.” Oh this was terrible. “I wasn’t IN your bed,” Cordelia stated defensively.

            Shocked by the sudden nervous and angry reaction his question had caused, Angel mimicked her action, clumsily standing to face her as she continued her rambling explanation.

            “It had been a long day. Connor was cranky and it was late. We simply happened to fall asleep at the same time and in the same place. Fully clothed I might add.” Remembering the sight of Angel’s muscular bare chest she added, “Well at least we fell asleep fully clothed. Besides, I’ve done it with you before. The sleeping I mean.  I’ve slept at your place, you’ve slept at mine.” This was getting worse. She knew these things had happened, but it just seemed different voicing them. Made them sound not as innocent as they were. And they were innocent. Even if talking about them now, made the events almost feel intimate to her.

            Cordelia’s dazed eyes now focused from her thoughts to Angel’s face.  He looked shocked. She decided to take a deep breath, quit rambling like a school girl, and give him the short answer. “Don’t worry.  We’re not intimate or anything. Just good friends. Nothing more.  Now, let’s get out of here before we wake Connor.” There that should calm him. The truth is always the best way to go … even when it feels like a lie.

            “Okay.” Angel followed Cordelia from the room, wondering why explaining their friendship had made her breath short and her pulse quicken. So they were friends. That was a good thing. Right? So why did he feel disappointed?

 

*****

 

            Part Four

            

Angel stood, arms folded, leaning against the wall beside the library office. It had taken Buffy and Willow approximately twenty minutes to find and bring in Oz and Xander. He glanced at Buffy and her friends before quickly returning his eyes to the two men engaged in a heated but whispered debate on the best course of action to take regarding his situation. His eyes shifted and his focus changed to the scuffed library floor as he drifted off into deep thought.  This is what his future, his family, and all that he loved had to rely on? Three high school student, two bickering watchers, and a lovesick slayer. He shifted his feet and continued to stare at the floor, all too aware but unable to look at the lovelorn face he could see with his peripheral vision. What would she say when she found out what had happened to him, the him she knew? An old familiar feeling began to take up residence inside, making him want to disappear into the shadowed corners of the room. She would be distraught and it would be all because of him. As he remembered, she was already going through the torment of their breakup and now this.  He was afraid that it might be too much for her to handle. But he needed as much help as he could get to find out how to return home, and the guilt he felt creeping up on him at being the cause of more pain in her life was overshadowed by the urgency to get back to his life, his son, and Cordy.

 

            *****

 

            One glance. That’s all he had graced her with since she had returned. It had been twenty minutes since Giles emerged from the library office and asked she and Willow to gather the group together. When they came back with Oz and Xander in tow, Wesley was already there, standing in front of the office door, whispering to Giles. She was furious that they were treating her like all of the others. As if she was simply some research study buddy. She was the Slayer. She shouldn’t be out of the loop on this one, but her fear that they would possibly find out what she and Willow had done kept her silent. She sat quietly continuing her task of staring a hole in the side of Angel’s head, who was now leaning against the wall close to where Giles and Wesley stood. Silently she begged him to glance her way again so that she could give him some kind of look that would signal all she was feeling. She shifted in her seat at the table, trying to draw attention to herself by allowing her chair to creak. No luck.

            A horrifying thought that had been circling around inside her head tried to push its way to the front of her mind. What if the spell had hurt him in some way? Caused him pain. She would eventually have to tell Giles what she and Willow had done. It would be easy to just stand up and tell him now, here in the library, in front of all her friend, and in front of Angel. She thought about the shame and embarrassment that such a confession would cause. Not to mention the hurt and possible anger from Angel. She made a decision. She couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t have him hurt and angry at her while she was trying to convince him to stay. She looked at him closely.  Except for the extra effort at avoidance toward her, which could be explained due to their fight the previous night, he looked fine.  Giles would figure it out, whatever it was, and they would fix it.  No one would know what she had done because she sure as hell wasn’t telling, and Willow, who always followed her lead, wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone without first checking with her.

 

***** 

 

            Finally free from his heated argument with Wesley, Giles began to address the students. “I’m glad you could all make it. I realize that we are all engrossed in an enormous amount of study and planning due to the Mayor’s ascension, but we have a major predicament that begs our attention.”

            “There you are!” came an exclamation from the swinging library door.

 

            “Cordelia,” Angel whispered to himself. He’d been so concerned about getting home to the Cordy he knew, that he had almost forgotten that she was here too. He looked at her as she seductively walked across the library. A smile almost reached his face when he saw the sparkle of her beautiful hazel eyes, heard the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat, and inhaled that unique scent that smelled like home.  Except this wasn’t home and that wasn’t his Cordelia. The smile faded away before it even appeared. This was a Cordelia unknown to him. One that he had barely even noticed much less had had any great feelings for. How had he missed her? His eyes were transfixed as he watched her walk in his direction. Staring at her face, he could almost imagine that this was his Cordy and that her coy smile was for him and not the man she was approaching. His jaw uncontrollably tensed as he watched her bat her eyelashes at Wesley and flirtatiously touch his arm.

            “I thought we had a date for cappuccino this morning,” Cordelia pouted.

            “Yes, I do apologize. I hope you didn’t wait a terribly long time for me. Mr. Giles required my guidance and approval on a pressing matter that could not be delayed. May I request a rain check?” Wesley asked, ignoring the indignant whispers and annoyed huffs emanating from the other occupants of the room.

            “Well, I’ll let you off the hook this time. Maybe you could make it up to me at dinner tonight. Say eight-ish?” Cordelia offered silkily before turning to look for a vacant seat.

            Angel tried to will his fist to unclench as he watched the scene in front of him. He tried reminding himself that this Cordelia was not his. This was not the exciting, breathtaking, mature woman who had secured a permanent place in his heart and soul. This was prevision, pre-mission, and pre-L.A. Cordelia. A young, beautiful, naïve girl simply experimenting with a crush on an authority figure. An authority figure who should be discouraging such a crush instead of ogling her backside as she walked to take a seat beside Willow.

            Giles leaned in to Wesley’s ear, rousing him from his lascivious thoughts. “Good lord man, keep it in your pants. She’s barely legal.”

            ‘And completely off limits,’ Angel mentally added, pressing down a rising growl.

            “Now, if we’re all quite through with social hour,” Giles began again with a disapproving look thrown between Wesley and Cordelia.  “I was just about to explain our current dilemma.”

            “If you don’t mind Mr. Giles, I will explain.” Wesley puffed out his chest, squared his shoulders and glanced toward Cordelia, ready to impress her with his knowledge and expertise. “As you know there are great powers in this world. Powers that even you who dwell atop the hell mouth could not imagine.”

            Angel cringed as Wesley clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace in front of his captured audience. This was going to take forever. Wesley jumped and squealed at the cold touch of Angel’s hand on his shoulder. “Short story,” Angel began. “An enemy of mine has sent me two and a half years into the past, here. For what reason I’m not sure nor do I care. The only thing that matters to me right now is getting back. Giles here believes that the me you know, the one that belongs here, was sent to the future in my place. He has agreed to offer his help as long as I continue to do what I can to help prevent the Mayor’s ascension. I know that you all have a lot going on but I need all the help I can get. I hope that I can count on each of you to do what you can.”

            Buffy tried to process what Angel had just revealed. It was so much worse than she had thought.

            Wesley began to circle Angel, studying him as if he were a specimen in a science lab. “It truly is fascinating. I mean it is understandable, after all you are a vampire, but two and a half years and you look exactly the same.”

            Buffy disagreed. She had never seen this Angel before in her life.  The Angel she knew skulked in the shadows, barely uttering a word in front of others. This Angel that stood before her now was verbal, authoritative, and completely in control. It scared and excited her at the same time.

            “Actually he looks a little puffy and he’s dressing way better than before,” came Cordelia’s bored comment.

            Willow could barely contain herself. She fidgeted with the sleeve of her sweater, avoiding any direct eye contact with anyone in the room. She wouldn’t break. She had promised Buffy that she wouldn’t tell a soul what they had done last night and she intended to keep her promise.

            “I suggest we identify the source of such a spell,” Wesley directed.

            “That way we will have more luck counteracting it.”

            “I disagree. Researching everything we can about time travel will give us better odds at finding out how to send him back,” Giles argued.

            “Mr. Giles, as you well know, I am in charge of this operation. And this situation, which I might remind you plays second to the Mayor’s ascension, can only be solved by finding the malevolent force behind such a maniacal scheme.”

            “Buffy and I cast a spell last night to make Angel stay in Sunnydale!”

            The room plummeted into silence at the standing redhead’s proclamation. Buffy’s heart began to race as all eyes turned to a nervous and guilt ridden Willow in disbelief. All except for two dark brown ones full of hurt and betrayal. “You did this?” Angel asked in horror.

 

*****

 

            The shower had felt good and had managed to achieve one of its purposes. All traces of Buffy’s perfume were gone, but the tingle of his skin where Cordelia had touched him this morning still remained.  He tried to think of something else, sure that the shock of her touch had kept it fresh in his mind. Angel moved to the dresser to find something clean to wear. Opening the top drawer, he found an array of underwear and grabbed the pair closest to the top. Now clad only in a pair of black sport boxers, Angel stared at the dresser, the wardrobe, then at the other pieces of furniture in the room one by one. In Sunnydale, all that he ever needed or wanted in his apartment or the mansion had been a comfortable bed and a place to put a few books and the handful of clothes he owned. This place had those things plus so much more. He eyed the dresser again and reached out to pick up a picture frame. He studied his image pictured beside Cordelia and Wesley. They all smiled back at him. He placed the picture back on the dresser. This wasn’t just a dwelling, a place to hide the day away until he could roam the night. This was a home. He looked at the picture on the dresser again. A happy one.

            Going to the wardrobe, Angel found a pair of pants and a shirt and finished dressing. Furniture and accessories were not the only things he had a lot more of. He had a lot of clothes. Nice clothes.  Some he wasn’t sure he would have picked out but nice all the same.  Something in the wardrobe caught his eye and gave him pause to think. They weren’t intimate, just good friends. Yet, not only did she sometimes sleep in .. on his bed and take care of his son like it was the most natural thing in the world, but there in his wardrobe hung her dry cleaning right along with his. Angel closed the wardrobe, convincing himself to block out the questions he so badly wanted to ask and concentrate on the problem at hand. His eyes turned to the door seconds before he heard the knock.

            “Angel?”

            “Come in.”

            “Hey,” Cordelia greeted as she stepped into the room. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

            “I’m fine,” Angel replied as he sat on the bed and pulled on his boots.

            “I also came to tell you that Lorne is on his way over. He’s going to help with Connor while we try and figure this thing out. Okay?”

            “Thanks.” He was glad that she had had the presence of mind to think of the baby. Earlier this morning as he stared down at the child, he had tried to elicit some sort of emotion from himself. He failed.  The only thing that being close to the infant had brought out in him was a memory of a long ago nightmare that he and Darla had bestowed on an innocent family. He shook the memory from his mind and looked at the woman who now sat in the chair next to the bed. How did she get here, in his life? It bewildered him as to how he and Cordelia Chase of Sunnydale had become friends. Granted, as he looked at her seated comfortably in his chair, he could tell she was not the same spoiled, vain child he had known … last night. She appeared to be a caring, sensitive, not to mention extremely beautiful, woman. So why was she here with him? “Has Wesley found anything yet?”

            “Not yet, but don’t worry. He will,” she smiled reassuringly at him.

 

            “…”

 

            “He’s kinda like our Giles. Ya know, without the whole ‘useful contacts and experience thing’.

 

            “…”

 

            “Angel he will find a way, I promise you.”

            “Cordelia, why are here?”

            “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just barged in on you like this.  I’m just so used to …” Cordelia rose from the chair. “I’ll be downstairs.”

            “No,” he said, stopping any further movements she made to leave the room. “I mean why are you here with me in L.A.? You said we were friends but you never explained how we got to this point in just two and half years.”

            “Angel, a lot has happened since you left Sunnydale. And as much as I’d like to sit here and continue this heart-to-heart you seem to be starting, I don’t think we have time for a game of ‘This Is Your Life’.” Cordelia took in a deep breath of air and looked down at Angel, who was still seated on the bed. “It’s a long story Angel,” she said with quiet sincerity.

            “Humor me. The others I can pretty much understand. I mean Wesley I get, ex-watcher and all. Once it’s in their blood they just can’t not try. And you said that Gunn was a self taught demon street fighter, Lorne a demon himself, and that I saved Fred from a five year captivity in an alternate universe. Seems they’ve all been living this lifestyle way before they hooked up with me. But what about you? Just last night I saw Cordelia, circa 1999, standard high school queen.”

            “Standard?!”

            “You know what I mean. You’re human. You could live like the rest of the world, in denial. I guess I just can’t understand how a normal girl like you would be mixed up in all of this.”

            “Oh crap.” Cordelia began to give off a soft glow as her body lifted slightly from the ground.

            Angel quickly rose from the bed, his eyes wide with shock. “Okay, maybe ‘normal’ wasn’t quite the right word.”

 

*****

 

            Part Five

          

 “You stupid, foolish girls,” Giles scolded as he paced in front of the two teens who sat in his office. “I cannot imagine what the two of you must have been thinking. Do you even realize just what you’ve done?” Giles took a cleansing breathe and leaned against his desk, wiping the glow from his brow. “I’ll need to see the spell.”

            “It’s in my locker,” came Willow’s weak reply.

            “Go and get it and bring it back here. I’ll need to study it to see exactly what went wrong and if it can be fixed.” Willow and Buffy looked up at Giles slowly, the word if echoing in both their minds.  “Go,” Giles ordered the young witch. Never looking back at Buffy, Willow silently left the room.

            “I know what your thinking, Giles.”

            “Do you?” He asked Buffy with a look of frustration.

            “You think that I had Willow do the spell because he was leaving.  You’re only partially right. I also did it for all of us. We need him. He has always helped us with any battle that we’ve faced. He’s one of our greatest strengths.”

            “I might remind you that he was one of our battles or have you forgotten Angelus. He may at times be a help to us Buffy, even one of our strengths, but for you he has and always will be a weakness.  You may try to justify what you did anyway you please, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was wrong. I thought that the troubles we had encountered with Ethan Rain would have taught all of you about the danger and consequences of using dark magic, that at least you would be mature enough to have recognized that lesson. I guess I was wrong.”

            “How dare you compare me to Ethan Rain. The spell that Willow and I cast was not evil. We simply wanted Angel to know that he was wanted, that he could make his own decision to stay, without worrying about what was best for me.”

            “Isn’t that exactly what you took from him? His ability to make his own decision. That, after all, is what he had done, made a decision.  It just wasn’t one that you were happy with. You chose to change that to suit your own needs. You used magic for your own selfish intentions. It’s no wonder that it all went terribly wrong. Don’t you understand that magic is just the tool? Intent is what determines what exactly the magic is.” Giles eyed the hammer on the bookshelf in the corner. Picking it up he studied it intently.  Deciding that Buffy needed an example she could understand, he began his speech. “I used this today to hang a school certificate on the library wall. It’s a helpful and useful tool.” Quickly lifting the hammer, he threw it forcefully, directly at Buffy’s head. She flinched, easily catching it just inches from her face. “Now it’s a weapon. Intent defines that which we use.”

            Buffy laid the hammer on his desk, unfazed by the violent lesson.  Giles’ had used a training tactic to prove his point. It worked. She had been lying to herself all day, trying to convince herself that what she had done could be validated by the fact that it had been not only for herself, but for the good of everyone, even Angel. It had taken Giles’ clumsy attempt at scaring her to force her to tell herself the truth. How could Angel ever forgive her for this? She watched Giles sit at his desk, his posture finally relaxing. “I’m so sorry Giles. I’ll do anything I can to make this better.”

            “I know you will,” he sighed. “Now, get to class. We’ll all meet back here at the end of the day and revue what Wesley and I find.  Hopefully we can resolve this quickly, without anything else going wrong.”

            Buffy gave Giles a tight smile and opened the office door. She had hoped that Angel had left when Giles had asked Wesley to get a special book from his apartment and sent the others to their classes. She had wanted him to go off and brood somewhere, giving her time to think about just what she should say to him. Even if he stayed and waited for her to come out of Giles’ office, she had at least expected him to wait in a dark corner somewhere, to glance at her disapprovingly and then leave. She had wanted or expected any of those scenarios from Angel, the one she knew. After all, she had experience in the ‘hide and avoid’ or the ‘skulk and brood’ Angel.  She knew how to handle him because she knew what to expect. Entering the library slowly, she silently prayed that she wouldn’t find him there, that hopefully one thing in this horrible day would go her way. It didn’t work.

            Angel sat in the open at one of the library tables, leaning back slightly with his arms crossed and staring directly at Buffy as she exited the office. No, this wasn’t the Angel she knew, the one that shied away to dark corners and avoided emotional confrontation. The Angel that she was with just last night. This was a different version. This was a royally pissed version that wanted answers. His forceful, take-charge attitude that had managed to excite her earlier now only made her ashamed … and a little frightened. Things definitely weren’t going her way at all. She slowly approached, taking the seat opposite his. “Angel, I’m …”

            “Don’t,” he interrupted her in a quiet but deadly tone. “If this is the beginning of some sort of heartfelt apology, I don’t want to hear it. I just want to know one thing and that’s all. Why?”

            “You were going to leave,” she began weakly, emotionally drained from the mornings events. “You said that you didn’t belong here, with me, that my life should be without you. I just wanted to show you that you were wrong. I wanted you to see where you were wanted, where you were supposed to be. I know I screwed up. I should have never used magic to convince you and I know you’ll probably never be able to forgive me. But don’t you see? I love you so much Angel, that I couldn’t just let you run away. No matter what I’ve done, the fact still remains that you do belong here. The spell might have gone a little haywire and I definitely was wrong to try something so desperate, but in a way it did work.”

            “What?” Angel asked in utter disbelief and disgust.

            “It brought you here, away from your future. It showed you where you belonged.”

            “You’re really unbelievable. You know that?” Angel stood and leaned on the table with his fists, looking Buffy in the eye. “You didn’t do the spell on me. You did the spell on the me you were with last night. The one that lives here in Sunnydale. You showed me where I belong alright. You sent my past self there and now he’s living MY life, with MY family, in MY home.”

 

*****        

 

            “Are you alright?” Angel asked a winded Cordelia, as he helped her sit back down in the bedroom chair.

            “Oh yeah, I’m fine. You should have seen the way I used to get them.”

            “Them what?”

            “Well, what we all call The Powers That Be,” Cordelia started, looking up at the ceiling and then back at Angel, “send me messages, in the form of visions, of people in trouble. I tell all of you what I see and we all go take care of the problem.”

            “And you’ve had these how long?”

            “Almost two years. Hmm, two years,” she said retrospectively. “Yeah, that’s it. Just seems like it’s been longer than that.”

            “So that’s what the floating and glowing thing was, you getting a vision?”

            Cordelia shook her head.

            “How did this happen?”

            “It’s a long story Angel, and I’m really not trying to avoid or anything,” she avoided. “But we don’t have much time. Let’s go downstairs and tell Wesley. Hopefully Gunn and Fred are back by now and we can all go together. Thankfully it’s an easy one, just a few vamps down at the boardwalk. Their going to try to turn a group of girls just after sunset. Won’t take us long.” Cordelia stood up and headed to the door. She stopped and turned before leaving the room.  “You coming?”

            Angel‘s thoughts swarmed. Visions, fights with vampires, more importantly fights they all seemed to take on together? He wanted to stop her from leaving the room, to force her to turn around and let him ask more questions, but every answer so far this morning had multiplied the questions by the thousands. A son, a home, and friends? It was too much information to take in all at once and it was driving him crazy. Deciding that the vision and his sanity were more important than the long, inevitable Q&A session he and Cordelia would eventually have, he silently followed her out of the room.

            Reaching the top of the stairs, he spotted two humans in a hushed conversation with a green demon. Their whispers were silenced as he and Cordelia descended the staircase. Fred was the first and only one who looked at him as she graced him with a childlike grin full of awe and innocence. It made him feel at ease and sure that he was welcome. He understood now why he sheltered and protected her here in the hotel. This was his home and she was family. They all were and he knew just where Fred fit in. Pushing ancient thoughts of his sister from his mind, he met her smile with a tight lipped expression that could loosely pass for a grin, making the young woman beam with excitement. It was a beautiful smile, wonderful even, but it paled in comparison to the one Cordelia was giving him now. He had received several just like it from her this morning.  Each one causing him to touch the spot on his chest where her hand had rested earlier, trying to keep fresh in his mind the feel of her skin against his. He looked again between the two women, one a sister, the other … Where did Cordelia fit into this family? He looked at her smile again, felt its warmth permeate his cold dead body. Fred had given him a smile that filled him with memories of long forgotten brotherly love. Cordelia had given him one that tested the lock on Angelus’ cage and made Angel somehow feel alive.  He knew exactly where she fit in and the prospect of what that meant filled him with fear.

            “Thanks for that,” Cordelia leaned in and whispered in Angel’s ear.

            “For what?” he asked, broken from his previous thoughts and trying

            desperately to ignore the way her breath felt on the back of his

ear.

            “That,” she answered, nodding to Fred, who now followed Gunn and Lorne to Wesley’s office. “Your little pathetic smile just made her day,” she continued with an approving grin. “Judging from the silent treatment Gunn and Lorne were giving you, I’m sure Wesley has told them everything. Poor thing, he probably scared her to death. Thanks for reassuring her, she’s been through a lot.”

            “No problem.”

            “I’m going to go in with the others and tell Wesley about the vision and bitch at Lorne and Gunn for being rude to you,” Cordelia explained flippantly. “Why don’t you go in the kitchen and warm up that blood I told you about in the frig. I know I said the vision looked like an easy one, but we should be prepared for anything.  After all, I’ve got to keep you nice and healthy, you’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”

            Angel stood frozen, watching his future give him a timid smile as she closed the office door. He turned and headed for the kitchen, wondering if leaving this place would be something he could ever do.

 

            *****

 

            “Family?” Buffy questioned with wet eyes.

            Angel had wanted to hurt her for being the cause of this nightmare and by the look on her face he had succeeded. But he knew that he had to work with her while he was here. The Mayor’s ascension was a very serious matter and if he didn’t cooperate and work by her side to prevent it, he may not have a future to return to. He tried to calm himself and sat back down in his chair.

            “You have a life and a family somewhere other than here,” she said with realization as the first tear fell from her eye. “With someone other than me.”

            “Do you want the long complicated answer or the short and simple one?”

            “Neither.”

            “Good.”

            They both sat in silence, as more quiet tears dropped uncontrollably from Buffy’s eyes. Angel’s fiery fury died a bit as he truly looked at the young slayer for the first time. She was just a child. He had clung to her affection so fast and hard when he came to Sunnydale, that he had never really contemplated just how young she really was.  “Buffy,” Angel tried, reaching across the table to comfort the distraught teen.

            “Don’t!” she yelled, jumping from her chair as her emotions took control of her body. “I don’t want to hear anymore about how great your life is now, or how you can’t wait to get back to a time and place where I don’t belong. You don’t understand what it’s like for me Angel, loving someone like you. Giles said you were my weakness and he was right. I love you so much it hurts and when I’m with you, the pain of it makes me feel like I wanna die.”

            Angel had to get out of this place and away from Buffy before he said too much about his future, using it as an example to prove her warped version of love wrong. He stood, picking the basement sewer entrance as his escape route. “That’s just it Buffy,” he said quietly before turning to leave, thinking longingly about Cordelia and home. “Real love isn’t supposed to make you want to die. It’s supposed to make you want to live.” Angel pushed open the library doors, mentally thanking Cordy for teaching him that lesson. He cursed himself for not telling her how he felt sooner. He wished that he was there with her now or that she was here with him. A sinking feeling suddenly took over his body. What if Giles couldn’t fix this? What if he never got the chance to tell Cordy that he loved her? Banishing the possibility that he would never get home from his mind, he promised himself that not getting back to Cordy and Connor was and never would be an option. Soon he would be home and the moment he saw Cordelia’s beautiful face, he would tell her exactly what she meant to him.

            “So,” came the smooth familiar voice that had just been returning words of love to him in his mind. “You’re ‘future’ Angel?” Cordelia said with a conspiratorial grin, catching him before he reached the basement door. “Let’s have a talk shall we?”

 

*****

 

            Part Six

           

Cordelia Chase could make a man nervous just by entering a room. She had recognized this natural talent in her early teens, and, with her mother’s guidance over the last few years, learned to build upon that inherent ability, turning her one weapon, as her mother defined it, into an arsenal of feminine wiles that would force the total surrender of any man. Each item in her armory had been carefully selected and mastered, enabling her to use it with quick and deadly precision as an offensive or defensive tool. This morning, with Wesley, the intent had been defensive. He had struck the initial attack by standing her up, triggering her deeply imbedded insecurities. She had worried that his maturity and intelligence would render him impervious to her charms, but her confidence and self assured attitude returned the minute he crumbled in front of the group in the library. One small battle won in a war that her mother explained she would be fighting in for the rest of her life.

            It made her sad and a little empty inside to know that this was the way of the world. That she had to resort to these type of gorilla tactics to win affection and favors. It hurt to know that no one would ever know who she really was, that beyond the weaponry and steal armor lay a soft heart full of emotion and love. Well, it was what she had been taught and in her experiences with men it had been proven to be true time and again. She slowed her pace as she rounded the corner of the school hallway, mentally inventorying her munitions. Deciding it would probably take everything she had, she took a deep breath, started with the fake smile, and quickly approached the vampire before he could reach the basement door. “So, your ‘future’ Angel,” she said silkily as she slipped her left arm through his right, giving it a gentle caress in the process. “Let’s have a talk, shall we?” she suggested as she opened the door and lead him down the stairs.

 

*****

 

            Broken from his thoughts of home, Angel stared blankly as the teenage version of the woman he loved lead him down to the basement and into trouble. He hadn’t given her enough credit in L.A.. She was a pretty good actress. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, he might not suspect a thing. She wanted something, that was clear, and Angel was afraid that in his present state he might not be strong enough to refuse. He’d be so happy if the plastic smile and the overt flirtation were real. If they were something meant just for him. He scolded himself as he allowed her to gracefully guide him down the stairs. He should turn around and head straight back to the library. He had had every intention to avoid her as much as he could while he was here, fearing that being near her and protecting her would take precedent over finding a way home. Leave, that’s what he should do, but the feel of her hand twined through his arm made the fog of the daydream he was having just moments before dense, floating its way across her young face and turning it into the Cordelia he loved and so desperately missed.

            Angel physically shook his head, forcing the fog to clear. This wasn’t his Cordy walking by his side and he had to remember that. He looked down at her hand as if suddenly realizing what it meant. Now sickened by the plastic smile and fake flirtation, he abruptly freed her hand from his arm as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He couldn’t stomach any Cordelia touching him like that, like he was just another man of many in her life that valued her only for her beauty.

            Cordelia tried not to act startled when Angel, who had seemed to enjoy her flirtation at first, jerked away and crossed the floor to the corner wall. Well, what did she expect? He wasn’t exactly your average male. At least she could cut the act and be herself. “I’ll make this quick because I’m sure you have some self flagellation to be doing and well … I have a life.” Cordelia checked herself, her nervousness at being alone in a dark space with Angel was causingher bite to come out. She tried to softened her tone and continued, “I just mean … I want to know…”

            The bite, the forced calmness, now this was the Cordy he knew. “I’m not going to tell you about your future, Cordelia.”

            “What? I wasn’t…Why?” she ended with a little disappointment.

            That was a good question. According to Giles, if and when he returned to his time, no one in Sunnydale would know that things were any different than they had been before. He could tell her, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want her to know that she would be alone, broke, and almost killed when she arrived in L.A.. That the first real friend she had would die and leave her with visions that almost destroyed her. He mentally continued the list of things she had had to face in the last two and a half years, not realizing until now just how much her metamorphosis into the woman she would become had cost her. Deciding that he needed to say something to wipe the look of frustration from her face, he opted for a small corner piece of the puzzle. “I can tell you that you survive the ascension and are alive, well, and I’d like to believe even happy.”

            Cordelia took a deep breath and sat sideways in an old desk by the wall. “Well, thanks for that at least,” she said as she stared off into deep thought. “I guess I just wanted some kind of assurance that things would get better than they are now. My parents are … well, its not world-in-peril stuff, but my life kinda sucks at the moment.”

            Angel’s still heart broke a little. He knew exactly what she was talking about. “Hey,” he started as he took a tentative step toward the depressed young woman. “Whatever it is, you’ll get through it, I promise you.”

            Cordelia didn’t know if it was the fact that she had actually begun to admit what was happening in her life, or that Angel seemed genuinely concerned about her, but whatever the cause, she began to softly cry.

            Angel was a goner, he knew that now. Forgetting every rule he had set for himself the moment he saw her walk through the library doors, he kneeled at the side of the desk, in front of Cordelia.

            “I’m sorry,” she apologized as she wiped at the tears falling from her eyes. “I guess I’ve held it in so long that it all came rushing out. I’m fine now,” she finished as her tears slowed and a forced smile appeared. “I really hate this place.”

            “Join the club,” he replied as he took a seat on the dirty floor next to the desk.

            “Can you at least tell me if I’m rich and famous? Strike that, I don’t think I could bear it if I got the wrong answer.”

            Angel gave a slight smile as he sat and stared in the same direction as Cordelia. He thought that if he closed his eyes, he could picture himself leaning against his bed at the hotel, having a heart to heart with Cordy.

            “I can’t wait to get out of this town, far away from Slayers and witches and demons, no offense.”

            “None taken.”

            “I just… I don’t belong here, I never have. I look at Buffy, Willow, and Xander and I get so jealous. They know why their here, why the world needs them. Buffy’s the Slayer and Xander and Willow are her band of merry demon hunters. They have a place and a purpose. A mission. I tried to be a part of that. I wanted to help, still do, but it just didn’t fit somehow. They see my role as the spoiled little rich girl. I guess I can’t blame them, I play the part so well.”

            “Your right.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “About not belonging.”

            “Gee thanks.”

            “I just mean that Xander and Willow define themselves through Buffy, and you don’t seem like the kind of person who needs to live vicariously through others. As for Buffy, she belongs here because this is the hell mouth. It’s where she’s needed. When I first came to Sunnydale, I felt just like you do now, like I had a greater purpose that I wasn’t fulfilling. I tried to make Buffy’s mission my mission too. It didn’t fit either. Instead of being a helpful and welcomed part of her group of friends, I became a dark, shadowy secret that no one really wanted to know. I had to tell myself that I didn’t belong here, I never did. I was meant for bigger things than to be someone’s sidekick and so are you.”

            Cordelia looked down at Angel, who now looked up at her. She finally gave him a genuine smile. “Thanks.” She began to stand and Angel rose to his feet and helped her from the desk. “Buffy’s really lucky to have had you in her life. It must be nice to know what true love is.”

            Angel clenched his jaw at the title that everyone but him kept putting on his past relationship. He wished that he could explain how he felt now, that in the future he would find out just what the meaning of that title meant and that she would be the one to teach him. “Cordelia, you’ll find that too.”

            “Oh I know. I’m meant to be with someone special, someone who understands the fight between good and evil, a strong, brave, intelligent hero.”

            Cordelia’s words were music to Angel’s ears, he could be those things, hell he was those things.

            “I can only pray that he makes it there, to my future, safe and sound.”

            Angel smiled and touched Cordelia’s shoulder tenderly. “I’ll make sure he does,” he couldn’t help but say.

            “So you’ll watch out for him then?”

            “Who?” Angel asked, suddenly confused by the conversation.

            “Duh, Wesley. Who did you think I was talking about?”.

 

*****

 

            The blood tasted just as it was supposed to, horrible. It was pigs blood after all. He had been unsure as to why Cordelia had told him about the microwave. He couldn’t imagine that he would heat it. That would make it taste so much better and defeat the purpose of drinking pigs blood in the first place. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy it.

            He began to take another gulp of the cold liquid but quickly pulled the plastic container from his lips when he heard the office door open and close. Cordelia was headed for the kitchen. Panic sat in.  He had been so hungry that he had sat right down in the middle of the kitchen to drink, in plain view. She would surely be disgusted by the sight of him slurping blood in the middle of the place where she and the others probably ate some of their own meals. He quickly reached the sink and began pouring the offending liquid down the drain, hoping to finish before he had to see the look of revulsion on Cordelia’s face.

            “Oh my God!”

            He hadn’t been quick enough. Cordelia entered the kitchen and in an instant was standing directly in front of him with a look of horror marring her beautiful features.

            “What the hell do you think your doing?” she asked in shock, as she grabbed the half empty container from his hand. “This stuff cost money ya know.”

            “I just thought … I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to have to see me like this.”

            “Like what?”

            “You know, feeding,” he answered shamefully.

            “Oh,” realization hit Cordelia as she reached for a paper towel on the counter. “And you thought you were doing me a favor by pouring the last container of blood down the drain huh?” Cordelia stared into Angel’s eyes as she reached up and slowly wiped a small spot of blood from his lips. “I hadn’t even realized just what it had been like for you in Sunnydale until now, hiding everything about yourself, pretending that you weren’t what you are. It must have been so hard and terribly lonely.”

            Unable to bear the closeness any longer, Angel reached up and removed her hand from his mouth and took a hesitant step back.

            Realizing Angel’s discomfort, Cordelia switched the conversation from loneliness back to blood. “Well, at least you didn’t waste it all. We’ll stop and get more while we’re out tonight,” she said as she picked up the container from the countertop. “Good grief, Angel.  It’s cold.”

            “That’s how I normally drink it.”

            “Not here you don’t,” Cordelia informed while taking a coffee mug from the shelf and filling it with what was left in the container.  “This is YOUR home Angel,” she explained as the microwave hummed.  “You don’t have to hide or pretend here. We all know who you are and we’re here because of it, not in spite of it. Now, drink this up.  Wesley needs some help trying to find out just why you’re here.”

            “He hasn’t had any luck yet?” he asked as he stiffly drank the warmed blood, immediately noticing how much better it tasted.

            “Well, he’s only been at it a few hours. Give him some time.”

            Angel could feel the tension coming off of Cordelia in waves. She had tried to give him another reassuring smile, but he could tell she was becoming afraid and unsure.

 

*****

 

            “The good news is that I have found a way to reverse the spell,” Giles announced to the occupants of the library.

            “And the bad news?” Wesley asked from his seat next to Cordelia.

            “Ah yes, the bad news. Well, it seems that one of the ingredients needed for the counter spell is mythoclonan, it will take three days before I can get any. That puts us at graduation. I’m sorry Angel, but I must ask for your continued help until I’m able to do the spell.”

            Angel answered with a silent nod. He had to get out of this library.  For the last half hour he had been tortured at the sight of Cordelia staring lovingly at Wesley while they sat next to each other. His conversation with her in the basement had been wonderful until he was reminded that at one time in her life she had had a flirtatious fling with Wesley. His good friend. His good friend who was still with her in the future. Angel had to get back home.

            He looked across the room to the table where Willow, Oz, and Xander sat, eating pizza and chicken wings while researching what they could find on the Mayor’s ascension. He could be thankful at least that Buffy, already hearing the news, had been sent on an errand. At least he had been spared the feel of her eyes on him, while he watched Cordelia watch Wesley. He eyed her as she crossed the room and took a piece of pizza from the box in front of Xander. “Aren’t you hungry?” she asked Angel when she passed him to return to her seat. The question caught him off guard. “I mean, I’m not offering or anything, but don’t you need to drink something?” The room was silent as all eyes turned to the vampire, waiting on his response.

            “Yuck! I’m trying to eat here, Cordelia,” came Xander’s interruption as chicken and hot sauce dripped from his mouth.

            “Yeah, and a little red liquid in a cup is so much more disgusting than that greasy piece of chicken carcass dangling from your mouth,” Cordelia replied as she took her seat next to Wesley.

            Angel stood and followed Giles as he walked into his office. He needed something to keep him busy. He didn’t care how difficult or mundane the task, anything would be better than being the butt of Xander’s dim wit or watching Cordelia’s crush unfold. “Is there anything for me to do now?” he asked Giles as he closed the library door.

            “Actually there is. I sent Buffy to retrieve some vital information from the apartment of a professor we believe to have been murdered by Faith. I would feel much better if someone were there with her, in case Faith decided to return.”

            Okay, anything but that.

 

*****

 

            Angel senses were on high alert as he walked out of the apartment with Buffy. He really didn’t want to go through this again, but what choice did he have? If he weren’t shot with the poisoned arrow then Buffy would never go after Faith and she may have tipped the scales in the battle with the Mayor. He scanned the area, waiting for the inevitable.

            “You know, you didn’t have to come here. I don’t even know why you bothered.”

            “Giles was worried about you. He wanted to make sure that someone watched your back in case Faith showed.”

            “Well, I can handle myself. I don’t need you here.”

            That was his cue. “Fine, you want me gone, I’m gone.”

 

*****

 

            The fight had been easy and Cordelia was amazing. He was a little disappointed that he had only been able to kill one vamp, but he enjoyed watching the others all work as a team. Every move that each member of the group made was unique to them, they each had their own style. Fred, he noticed, liked gadgets, opting to test a new and smaller crossbow she had made herself. Gunn went more for the savage kill, using his axe with great expertise, he had taken out two vamps himself. Wesley’s style was that of a practiced swordsman, sparring with his opponent before delivering the final blow. Finally, Cordelia’s moves he knew all too well, they were his. He could only guess that he had been the one to teach her to fight and the thought of that for some reason filled him with pride.

            They had stopped on the way back to the hotel just as Cordelia had said they would. She had marched right into the butcher shop herself and bought his blood for him. He looked at her pick it up as they left the car and entered the lobby as if it were just another bag of groceries. How had he gotten so lucky in the next two and half years? He had friends, a family, and most of all Cordelia. He hoped that even if Wesley did find a way to send him back, that he could remember this, know that a short ways down the line it was waiting for him.

            “I’m going to go check on Lorne and Connor,” Cordelia announced as she headed up the stairs.

            “Wait,” Angel called, making her pause a few steps up the staircase.

            “I’ll go with you,” he said as he quickly reached her side.

            Cordelia smiled a smile even more beautiful than any of the others he had seen that day. “Are you sure?”

            “Yeah,” he said, returning the smile with one of his own.

 

*****

 

            Cordelia pulled the keys from the ignition of her car and stepped out onto the curb. She had felt terrible about her question in the library. It had obviously upset Angel, making him leave without a word. She had been trying to be nice, to make sure that he was taking care of himself. That’s what friends do, right? Well, she was bound and determined to apologize. Angel had been so nice to her earlier that day, that she couldn’t bear the thought of him roaming the town alone and angry with her.

            It was easy really. She had just popped her head into Giles’ office, found out that Angel had gone to help Buffy carry some boxes from some old apartment and she was off, explaining to Wesley that she had a headache and was going home. None of the others even cared that she had gone. Not that she had really expected them to. Well, she would go and help, whether Buffy liked it or not, and ease her mind that her earlier comments hadn’t hurt or embarrassed Angel.

            Cordelia spotted the couple leaving a building across the street. Oh great. By the looks of it they were having an argument. Did those two do anything but argue?

 

*****

 

            Angel stiffened his body. He knew it was coming. He’d dropped the box and any second now the arrow would pierce his chest from behind, dangerously close to his heart. A tap to his back startled him and made him turn.

            “Angel, I came to make sure…” was all Cordelia managed to say before the arrow struck her through the shoulder. “Angel?” she whispered, as she fell into Angel’s arms.

 

*****

 

            Cordelia stopped halfway up the staircase, her smile fading quickly from her lips. She turned and faced her future best friend. “Angel?” she whispered, as she collapsed forward, into his arms.

 

*****

 

              Part Seven

 

            “Missed the vamp,” Faith’s demon companion smiled.

            “Damn,” she replied disappointedly. “Oh well,” she reassured herself. “I might of missed lover boy, but I still got one of’em.  It’ll keep her busy for a while. B’s got a soft spot for the weaker class.”

 

*****

 

            “She needs a doctor, Angel,” Buffy called as she tried to keep up with the tall vampire.

            Angel, deaf to Buffy’s continuing protests, burst through the library doors with an unconscious Cordelia in his arms. “Giles!”

            “Good Lord, Good Heavens,” the two watchers said in perfect synch while rushing from the library office.

            “What happened?” the elder watcher asked as he knelt beside the carpeted steps where Angel now sat, supporting Cordelia’s head as he leaned her back.

            “She was hit in the shoulder, with this,” he answered, handing Giles the arrow.

            “The wound does seem rather severe. When did she lose consciousness?”

            “Right after it struck. I got her here as fast as I could.”

            Buffy stepped forward, “We need to get her to the hospital, Giles.”

            “Quite right,” Wesley finally chimed in. “I’ll get my keys.”

            “No,” Angel growled, forcing Wesley to an abrupt stop.

            “Angel, I know your more experienced with the accelerated healing of your and Buffy’s injuries, but Cordelia will need a doctor,” Giles explained.

            “Poor girl, she must have passed out from shock,” Wesley commented, coming closer to Cordelia’s body with an outstretched hand.

            Angel stood, blocking Wesley’s path, giving a deadly stare that made Wesley retreat a step. Turning to Giles, he explained, “It’s not the wound that we need to worry about. Faith poisoned the arrow. It was meant for me.” Angel’s face fell as he sat back down, hovering protectively over Cordelia’s lean frame.

            “Faith? How do you know…” Buffy began but stopped when Angel looked up.

            “This is your past,” Giles reasoned. “You left knowing you would be wounded.”

 

            “…”

 

            “But you weren’t,” Wesley said suspiciously.

            “This is all my fault,” Angel whispered, brushing a strand of hair from Cordelia’s face.

            Buffy’s stomach twisted at the sight of Angel’s action and a voice in the back of her mind murmured something she couldn’t quite hear.  “It’s not your fault Angel,” Buffy assured lovingly. “You couldn’t have known that Cordelia would show up there tonight. You’re not responsible for it,” ‘or her’ her jealous brain added. She couldn’t help herself. She knew that Angel was upset that an innocent, well, that Cordelia was injured in his place, but he was going a little overboard.

            “We’ll need to get her somewhere safe while I test the arrow,” Giles stood, his mind beginning to work on the problem at hand.

            “She can stay at my apartment. Her parents are out-of-town for a few days,” Wesley’s face blushed slightly at the looks he received for knowing such personal information.

            “I’m taking her to the mansion,” Angel declared, giving Wesley another lethal glare, daring him to argue. “Don’t waste time testing the arrow,” he turned to Giles. “It’s called Killer of the Dead.  It’s a mystical poison that can kill a vampire.”

            “You say that this happened in your past, yet you live,” Wesley said acidly, his pride hurt by his own cowardly attitude toward the vampire. “Obviously there is a cure,” he deduced.

 

            “…”

 

            “Angel,” Giles prompted.

            Angel looked up at Buffy, afraid to admit aloud just how he had survived. “The cure for her couldn’t possibly be the same.”

            Giles removed his glasses and stared sternly at Angel, afraid to hear the answer for the question he needed to ask. “Angel, the cure.  What was it?”

            Angel looked between the three figures before him, settling his gaze on Buffy. “The only way a vampire can survive the poison … is by draining the blood of a Slayer.”

 

*****

 

            “And you say that she just collapsed suddenly?” Wesley questioned.

            Angel looked down at Cordelia, who lay on the bed they had woken in together that morning. “We were going upstairs, to check on the baby. She was fine and then …” He stared at her eyes, as if he could will them to open. “A vision.”

            “Cordy had a vision?” Gunn asked, stepping up beside Wesley.

            “She didn’t exactly say she had one, but this morning the one she had made her float and glow. Maybe they can knock her out too.”

            “No,” Fred explained. “The visions don’t really work that way.  Unless you count the time Wolfram and Hart put that spell on her, or when she left her body because they were killing her and she had to make that decision that we’re not supposed to talk about cause it makes her mad if we do. But those weren’t really vision visions, unless this isn’t a vision vision and somebody’s messing around in her brain again. Lorne?”

            “She’s still in there sweet pea. I can tell that from here, but her aura’s telling me that there’s definitely something mystical afoot.”

 

            “Don’t worry, Angel. Cordelia will be fine,” Wesley assured, almost forgetting that this wasn’t the Angel who had been tortured by watching her suffer before. “Lorne will get in touch with his contacts and the rest of us will research everything we can get our hands on. I’ll find out who or what is causing this.”

            Angel felt a furious rage take him over. This wasn’t fair. It was like reading the end of a book before you even knew the plot. He felt that she was the reason he was here, with a mission, a family, a purpose. She must have been the one who made all of those things possible, connected him somehow. Yet, he didn’t know how he had gotten to this point. Worse still, there was a version of himself that did know. A version that had lived through every joy and pain with this woman for the past two and a half years. He envied that version of himself. If Wesley couldn’t figure out how to get him back, the lucky bastard might get to experience it all over again while he would never know one moment of it.

            He couldn’t let her die. He wouldn’t say goodbye to something he had been cheated out of having at all. His rage burned and singed the closest person in the room. “You’ll find out what’s wrong and you’ll fix it?”

            “Of course Angel.”

            “Like you’ve fixed my problem.”

            “Excuse me?” Wesley asked with astonishment.

            “Well, you’ve been researching all day. What have you found?”

            “Angel, I realize that this has been a traumatic experience for you, but it’s only been one day, if even that. There is only so much we can do in that small amount of time.”

            “What about Cordelia, do you care how much time that might take?”

            “I care more about that young woman laying there than you do,” was Wesley’s soft but forceful reply.

            “Kids, lets not loose our heads here,” Lorne stepped close to the two men. “Angelcakes, Wesley here is doing all he can to help you.  We all are. It’s not his fault that we can’t find anything. I even checked with the more magical side of town and they aren’t even having any luck. It’s like it didn’t even happen.”

            “Maybe it didn’t.” Everyone in the room looked at Fred, dreading another ramble.

            “Sugarplum, I hate to tell you, but something had to, to get him here.”

            “I know. I just mean, he’s here and the other Angel, our Angel is probably there and we think that he’s here because someone cast a spell or something on our Angel because he’s there, but what if he’s there because he’s here and that something was done to him there making him come here and him go there.”

            Everyone in the room stared at Fred in silence, surprisingly understanding every word of her babbled genius and fearing what it all might mean. Wesley spoke first. “And if it originated in the past, it must be fixed there.”

            “So we go and fix it,” Angel commanded.

            “It’s not that simple Angel. Time travel, although obviously possible, is extremely volatile. Although time has ways of trying to right itself, such as replacing one of you where the other was missing, there could be dangers if key events were inadvertently altered in ways that could not be repaired. Our best bet, if this is indeed what has happened, is to hope that Angel, the one from this time, is able to find the cause and solution to what has happened.”

            “Angel?” came the weak voice from the bed.

            In an instant he was by her side. “I’m here Cordelia.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “She’s burning up,” he said to the room.

            Wesley approached the bed and felt Cordelia’s head. “She has a fever, an extremely high one. Fred, would you find the first aide kit. There should be medicine inside. Also, bring a bowl of ice water and a small towel.”

            “Angel?” Cordelia called again. This time trying desperately to focus her eyes in on the form hovering over her.

            “I’m right here Cordelia.” Angel gently lifted her hand in his. “I’m holding your hand.”

            “I had a dream that you left. That you woke up this morning and forgot about all of us. You went back to Sunnydale and left us alone.”

            Angel knew that she was delirious, confusing him for the Angel she knew. He humored her, and himself a bit, “I’m here. It was just a bad dream. I’m not leaving you. I promise.” Part of him meant it.

 

*****

 

            Angel wiped the sweat from Cordelia’s brow with the cold cloth. He had seen her future self like this too many times, all because of him. Now, her past wasn’t even safe from the pain she would have to endure on his behalf. He was thankful that at least they were alone now, that he could take care of her without any interference from the others. Wesley, after lingering way too long, had finally left him alone with her, deciding that he could be of more help by contacting the Counsel for any answers they might have. Giles had stayed at the library to study all of the information he could find on the poison and Buffy had gone to tell the others what had happened, hoping they could help in the research.

            Angel touched Cordelia’s head, cooling it with his icy hands. “Don’t do this to me Cordy. Don’t make me sit here and watch my future die.  Please.” Leaning down closer to her, he began to whisper, “I’m gonna fix this. I promise,“ he vowed as he took her limp hand in his. “You gotta get through this so you can find that place your looking for, the one where you belong. Home. I did,“ he looked at her hand in his. “Not here in Sunnydale, or even L.A. for that matter. I found it when I found you. When you let me in your life, you showed me home. It’s with you. The you that you become. I know now that as long as I have you and Connor in my life, I belong, no matter where I am. Don’t take that away from me. Don’t let me go back knowing that your not there waiting. I can’t. I won’t. I love you too much Cordy,” he confessed and gave her hand a tender kiss.

            “Wesley?” came Cordelia’s raspy voice.

            Angel swallowed down his hurt, “No, it’s me. Angel.”

            “Angel? What happened?”

            “You walked in front of an arrow meant for me. It struck you through the shoulder,” he glanced at the toxic wound. “You’re going to be fine.”

            “It hurts,” she said, her eyes tearing. “I feel like I’m burning from the inside out.”

            He remembered the pain all too well. “I know, I’m so sorry. Wesley and Giles have gone to get something to make it all better.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “You’re sorry?”

            “In the library, I made you uncomfortable when I started worrying about you out loud. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that.  That’s what I was coming to tell you. Usually I don’t really care if I make people self-conscious, kind of made an art of it. But for some reason I couldn’t stand knowing that I might have hurt you or made you mad.”

            Angel gave her a slight smile, and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “How could I be mad at the only person who has ever worried about my diet?”

            “Eh-hem,” came Giles’ voice from the doorway.

            Angel turned to the three grim faces. Buffy, Giles, and Wesley had news and from the looks of them it wasn’t good.

            “Angel, we need to speak,” Giles said, turning to walk out of the room.

            Angel stood and began to follow as Wesley entered the room and walked toward Cordelia.

            Wesley looked down at the beautiful girl who had slipped back into unconsciousness. At least now he would get a chance to be by her side. Angel couldn’t kill him if he was in the other room. Right?

            Angel looked back at Wesley taking his place at Cordelia’s side.

            “I’m coming right back,” he warned the young watcher.

            “What did you find?” Angel asked immediately on entering the room.

            Buffy and Giles shared a look before Giles began to explain. “Well, you were right about the process of curing her. It isn’t the same as it is for a vampire. It involves a complicated and somewhat painful ritual to be performed.”

            “So we perform the ritual. Problem solved.”

            “It’s not that simple. I said the process of curing her is different, the ingredient, unfortunately, is still the same. A copious amount of Slayer’s blood is needed for the ritual to work.”

            Angel looked toward Buffy, thinking thoughts that he knew would surely damn his soul all over again.

            “There’s more,” Giles continued, “The books say that the ritual can only be performed by ‘a love, pure and true’. I can only assume that it means true love, that Cordelia can only be healed if her ‘true love’ performs the ritual.” Giles rubbed the back of his neck in fatigue and frustration. “This is impossible.”

            “No, it’s not,” Angel answered, his mind set.

            “Angel even if we could find a person who loved Cordelia in such a way, we have to have the blood for it to work.”

            “The person won’t be a problem. You get the ritual ready and let me worry about the blood,” Angel directed as he headed for the door.

            Buffy, who’s mind had been quietly concentrating on trying to figure out the scene they had interrupted, grabbed Angel’s arm and forced him to turn around. She couldn’t believe what he must be thinking.  “Angel, I won’t let you murder Faith. Cordelia may be dying, but it isn’t our place to trade one life for another. I can’t believe you would be willing to do that.”

            “When it was me laying in there you were.” Angel jerked his arm from Buffy‘s strong grip. He tried to calm himself. He needed Buffy to let him do this. “I won’t kill her, I promise. Please trust me. You don’t know how much I hate to do this, but you don’t understand how important…” he caught himself before he finished.

            The murmur that Buffy had been so desperately trying to hear earlier, the one that was whispering some type of truth to her, began to get louder and a little more clear. Angel turned to go, and she let him.

            “We have to stop him. He can’t be allowed to murder a human being, even if it is Faith.”

            “Let him go. He was right,” she said sadly. “If he was the one laying in there in pain and dying, I’d trade Faith’s life for his in a heartbeat. I love Angel so much that I would be willing to do the unthinkable.” Buffy looked through the doorway at Cordelia and Wesley. She wondered if Wesley’s heart would be ripped out like hers when Angel performed the ritual.

 

 

*****

 

            Part Eight

 

            Faith’s foot kept time with the deafening music. She loved this band. The angry lyrics and rough beat coursed through her veins like synthetic adrenaline, giving her a fake high as she closed her eyes and pictured the arrow entering Cordelia’s flesh. She had hoped to fatally wound Angel tonight. He was supposed to be the one to fall, to be punished. She had so badly wanted to hurt him. He had earned it after all when he had shown himself to be just another person who had passed her by, rejected her for someone better, someone cleaner.

            He was also a vampire. That title alone qualified him for a painful death from either side. She would never feel guilt over killing something like Angel. Cordelia, on the other hand …

            Faith tried to block the sight of Cordelia falling again out of her mind by concentrating on the music and flipping through the magazine that lay in front of her face on the bed. It didn’t matter. This was war and she was a warrior. If she felt sorry for every little twit that foolishly stumbled into the crossfire she would never survive.  At least that’s what the Mayor had told her when he found out what had happened. He was right. Promising herself that she wouldn’t think of Cordelia or her eminent death any longer, Faith began to rock her foot back and forth to the beat of the music again and stared down at her unread magazine.

            “Enjoying the music?” A voice asked just loud enough to be heard over the chaotic song.

            Startled, Faith quickly sat up on her side, recognizing the voice of her intended target from earlier in the evening. She collected herself, stood, and raised her shield of indifference. “God yes. I love listening to this band. Especially after a good kill. Ya know?” she teased.

            Angel checked his anger as he reached to the stereo and turned the noise to a modest level. This would only work if he held back. He couldn’t risk killing her and changing some important future event.  Besides, he tried to remind himself, he knew how sorry she would be in the future. The girl in front of him was hurting, he had to remember that. But the girl he loved was dying because of this bitch. This was going to be harder than he thought.

            “She die yet?” Faith continued to taunt.

            “No,” Angel quietly answered. “And she won’t. You’re going to make sure of that.”

            “You came here to ask for help?” Faith gave an astonished smile.

            “Bad news chief, I can’t help you. My parts done.”

            “She’s going to die Faith.”

            “And that affects me how?”

            “I know that you meant to shoot me. In a lot of ways I probably deserved what you tried to do, but Cordelia is innocent.”

            “You say that like I care.”

            “I know deep down inside you do. You have to make this right Faith.

            There’s a ritual that can save her but I can only do it with your

            help.“

            “There’s a cure?” Faith asked with guarded interest.

            “Yes.”

            “But you need me to come with you in order to do it?” she continued with rising suspicion.

            Angel nodded.

            Faith pushed the hope that tried to creep into her mind away. What was she thinking? This is the same song and dance Angel had tried with her before, pretending to care, to be her friend. She wasn’t going to let her guilt over Cordelia close the trap that Angel was laying for her. She stiffened and readied herself for the fight that was to come. “Well then, I guess she’s shit outa luck then huh?  Cause I ain’t goin’ no where chump. Now if you don’t mind. I was in the middle of a little afterglow celebration here,” she explained as she crossed the room and turned the volume button back to its max.  Turning around, she started to walk slowly away from Angel, pretending he was already gone.

            She had turned her back on him as if she thought he would go away, as if the reason he was there was unimportant. Angel, with as much restraint as he could conjure, grabbed her arm and forced her back to him. “I told you I can’t cure Cordy without you.” He had had enough. Screw the future and everyone else in the world. One way or another Faith was coming back with him. The thought of the time he had wasted trying to convince Faith to do the right thing made Angel’s fury at the situation spike. His mind saw Cordelia laying unconscious at the mansion, then in the hospital his first year in L.A., and every other time she had suffered at the hands of someone trying to hurt him. His grip tightened on her arm while his demon fought for release. He had come to Faith’s apartment knowing that he was supposed to take her back alive, but now he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was curing Cordy and if that meant sacrificing Faith, then so be it.

            Faith was confused. Initially she had thought that he had been sent by Buffy to either punish or capture her. Now, he seemed desperate, like she really was his only hope. She looked in his eyes, his human eyes that now barely masked the demon within. She couldn’t help herself. She wanted to know. “I tried to kill you tonight Angel. I hunted you down and tried to poison you. Instead of shooting you through the chest I hit the beauty queen, probably my second murder one and you come here to tell me that you need me, the person that caused all of this, to set things right. What in the hell could you possibly need from me to cure Cordelia?”

            Cordelia’s name on Faith’s lips was the key that unlocked the cage of his demon. Angel’s face changed just before he answered her question. “Blood,” was his still and deathly answer.

            Faith’s pulse raced as fear and instinct set in. She wrenched herself away from his grip and lunged for a crossbow propped up on the far wall. In an instant Angel had launched himself toward her, catching her by the ankle and forcing her body to slam to the floor just inches before she reached her weapon. Faith tried desperately to free herself. Maneuvering her free leg into position and using all of her strength, she delivered a sound kick to Angel’s jaw, giving her enough time to reach the crossbow.

            The kick stunned him momentarily. He had forgotten just how strong Faith had been before the coma and the emotional breakdown that had sent her to L.A. as a weak and broken slayer. She had been strong even then, but now, in her prime, she was arguably as strong as Buffy, with an added raw strength that could only stem from a street smart savagery. Getting Faith back in any condition was going to be hard, but he was determined, he had to succeed. She was Cordy’s only hope of surviving. But a dark corner of his mind reminded him that Faith wasn’t his only option. His thoughts momentarily turned to the only other slayer in the world. His determination grew as he grabbed at the crossbow that Faith struggled to load. He had to succeed. The alternative was too horrible to contemplate - not because it was one of the options, but because he knew, for Cordelia, it was one he would take.

            Angel threw the crossbow to the wall, splintering its wooden parts.  Acting quickly, if not wisely, he grabbed Faith by the throat, lifting her in the air before tossing her toward the balcony. Her body flew, striking the glass door that stood ajar. Angel was immediately atop her, trying to keep the advantage while it was his.  Faith, her strength waning, still managed a powerful punch to Angel’s face, sending him stumbling back a few steps. She looked at her body, now seeping blood from cuts and gashes caused by the broken glass. She wasn’t going to win, she knew that now, but she couldn’t go back, not to that bunch of hypocrites. She stood and took a couple of awkward strides to the balcony’s edge, perching herself on the ledge. It had been a great ride. None of them had ever cared about her, but in the end they needed her, that gave her power. Faith looked to the street below. Her death might not cause too much pain, but she could still leave them with a little sting.

            Angel stood, now wearing his human face again, and nervously watched a weakening Faith consider her next move. Faith looked toward Angel.  “So, this is what you came for?” she said with a ragged breath as she lifted her now bloodied hand from her stomach. She looked behind her and then back to Angel. Her mouth spread into a small smile.

            “Hope you’ve got a plan B,” she said, and fell back off of the

ledge.

            Angel raced to the edge as panic took over his body. He watched in slow motion as Faith’s body landed violently on the bed of a cargo truck below. The fall had been violent enough to knock her unconscious and she had lost some blood. He wasn’t sure if she would live, but he knew he couldn’t let her get away - couldn’t resort to plan B. He carefully judged the distance between himself and the moving truck. Taking a few steps back, he ran and leapt over the side of the building.

 

*****

 

            “This is supposed to be past Angel, right?”

            “Yes,” Wesley answered Gunn with a sigh. The two men stood side by side, leaning against the hallway wall outside of Angel’s suite.

            “Well, if you ask me, the old one ain’t much different than the new and improved one that we’re used to. Forcin’ us to stand out here in the hall while he ‘watches’ over Cordy. Thinkin’ that a little threat and growl will scare us into stayin’ out here.”

            “Indeed,” Wesley agreed.

            “We outa go in there and whoop his ass.”

            “I agree.”

            “He don’t even know her man. We’re standin’ out here while a stranger takes care of Cordelia.”

 

            “ … “

 

            “We should walk right through that door and show him just who runs things around here.”

            “Yes, we should.”

            Neither man moved.

 

*****

 

            Angel burst through the mansion doors with Faith’s bruised, bloodied, and comatose body in his arms, startling Buffy and Giles from their seats.

            “Is it ready?” Angel asked frantically as he made his way into the room.

            “Yes,” Giles answered in a disturbed tone. Giles looked at the slayer dangling from Angel’s arms. This was wrong. He looked at Buffy as if she could give him an explanation to make it feel right.

            “Giles, we’re wasting time. Show me what to do.”

            Giles froze. He couldn’t let Angel go through with this. Faith might have been working for the wrong side, but she was still a slayer, and he had vowed his life in the protection of slayers.

            “Giles!” Angel demanded, trying to elicit a response from the silent man.

            Buffy quickly stepped forward. “The urn,” she began, motioning to an old, ornately carved artifact that sat on the fireplace hearth. “You fill it with blood, recite the incantation carved around its base and poor the blood out in a circle around you and Cordelia. After you finish the incantation, you have to make these markings,“ she pointed to the inside of the urn, “on her forehead and cheeks with the blood that is left.” She couldn’t believe that she was helping him. By performing this act, he was telling the universe that Cordelia Chase was his true love, and she was helping him do it. She almost couldn’t bear it. But she also knew that she couldn’t let Cordelia lay in the next room and die because of her jealousy.

            Giles, finally finding his voice, grabbed Angel as he headed into the other room. “I can’t let you do this.”

            Angel turned to Giles, a low growl rising from his chest. “If you’re not here to help, then get the hell out,” he ordered in a deadly whisper. Turning again, Angel entered the room where Cordy lay.  Wesley stood, leaving the vigil he had kept over her since Angel had left earlier that evening.

            “Get out,” Angel commanded as he lay Faith on the floor near the bed.

            “Mr. Giles stated that the ritual must be officiated by someone who cares deeply for the afflicted.”

            Angel took out a knife and made one of the gashes on Faith’s bare side deeper, trying to finish as quickly as possible the task of collecting her blood.

            “Under the circumstances, I think that I am the best candidate,” Wesley continued, unanswered but not unheard. He gently touched Cordelia’s face as he thought of his burgeoning feelings for the young girl.

            Angel finished his task and hurriedly carried Faith to the room where Buffy waited, silently hoping he hadn‘t taken too much. “Get her to the hospital, fast,” he handed her to Buffy.

            “She’s still alive?” Giles asked hopefully.

            Buffy took the second slayer and hurried from the mansion, Giles close behind.

            Angel returned to the room to find Wesley now holding Cordelia’s hand between his two slender ones. Noticing the vampire’s return, the young watcher continued his persuasive argument. This time determined to be heard. “As I was saying,” he stood and squared his shoulders. “Under the circumstances, I feel that I am the best one to perform the ritual. After all, I am the only one here who has strong feelings toward her.”

            Angel had had enough of this ridiculous crush. Gripping Wesley by the collar of his tweed suit, Angel backed him up against the wall, leaving his feet to dangle inches far from the floor. Wesley let out an effeminate yelp before Angel began to speak. “You don’t love her.  You don’t even know her yet. All you can see is some killer body with a great face.” The two men stared at each other for a moment - one in fear the other in rage. The latter broke the silence. “I’m going to do the ritual. You’re going to go wait in the other room, and if I ever catch you touching Cordy again, I’m going to rip off every appendage from your body - one by one - very, very slowly.” Angel let go and turned his attention back to the most important job at hand.

            Wesley nervously adjusted his glasses and left the room.

            Angel remembered what Giles had said, about the ritual being extremely painful. He looked at Cordelia’s face. He closed his eyes as if silently asking her forgiveness for what he was about to do.  He leaned down and gently kissed her lips. “I love you.” He then lifted the urn and began to pour, reciting the first few words. A piercing scream of agony filled the room as Cordelia’s body began to tremble. Angel’s jaw clenched as he continued.

 

***** 

 

            “I said stay out,” Angel responded to the gentle knocking at the bedroom door.

            “It’s just me,” Fred answered as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

            Angel growled and turned to look at the petite genius. “What I said to those two idiots goes for you too. If you’re not here to tell me you’ve found a way for me to fix this then stay away.”

            Fred thought that Cordelia must finally be rubbing off on her because Angel’s threat didn’t scare her. In fact, it made her heart break for what she knew he must be going through. On some level she could identify with him - being thrown into a strange and frightening place, wondering if you’d ever find a way back where you belong. She rounded the bed and sat in the chair on the opposite side.

            Angel realized his threat was falling on deaf ears and turned his attention back to the most important person in the room. He tried not to smile as he thought about the two men who had been standing out in the hall for the last hour, debating on just who should come in here and show him who’s boss. He glanced up at the childlike woman who had just taken her seat. Gunn and Wesley spent so much energy hovering over her as if she were a delicate piece of glass that would break at any moment. It looked to him as if they were the fools who didn’t know much about the woman they loved. Each had complained, when he had forced them from the room, that Angel didn’t know anything about the Cordelia who lay unconscious and fighting for her life, but he did know her. The minute he landed in this future world of his he realized, like all people who find that missing half, that he always had known her. She was the person that could bring out the best in him, not the worst. She made him laugh and smile and feel like a man instead of a monster. She made him want something that he hadn’t really cared about in a long time. She made him want to live.

            Angel looked back up at Fred, this time a more accepting look crossing his features. She smiled a small understanding smile.  “She’ll make it through this. She always does,” she offered.

            “Fred, how did Cordelia get visions?”

            Fred wasn’t sure if she should answer his question. It had been an unspoken but understood rule of Cordelia’s that they were not to talk about the specifics of the visions and what they had cost her.  If any of them ever tried broaching the subject they were met with a raised eyebrow or a quick and witty change of subject. Cordelia might be mad at her if she talked about it, especially with him. She looked at Angel’s tired and questioning stare and down to her comatose friend. Cordy was going to be so angry with her.

            “I’ll try to make it a short story because Cordy says that I’ve got to work on making my epic explanations into thirty second summaries.  ‘Less is more.’ That’s what she’s always sayin’. ‘That rule applies to life as well as fashion,’” she mocked. She smiled at Angel again and he reflected a small one back to her, trying to encourage what he hoped would be some answers to this crazy mess.

            “See,” she began. “There was this guy named Doyle. Well, he wasn’t a guy, at least not all guy. He was half guy. Yeah, I guess that would be right to say Doyle was half guy. Of course Cordy probably wouldn’t agree. That does sound a little insulting, doesn’t it? So I’ll say he was a guy plus some.”

            Angel tried to start picking out his answers as Fred began her ramble. Cordelia obviously had a long road ahead of her if she was going to teach this girl to be short and to the point.

            “By plus some, I mean he had some demon DNA. His mother was human

            and his father was …”

            A loud piercing scream interrupted Fred. Cordelia’s body began to convulse and shake as her screams of pain alternated with agonizing moans. Angel pulled her to him, as if his body could shield her from whatever horror that had taken hold of her. “Get Wesley and Gunn,” he pleaded to Fred.

            “Already here,” Gunn answered, as the two men ran into the room

 

 

*****

 

            Part Nine

 

            Giles had been right. The ritual had been extremely painful for both of them. Angel sat on the floor by the bed, weak and exhausted. His eyes were closed and his head rested against Cordelia’s arm that draped gracefully off the edge of the mattress. Keeping his eyes closed, he turned his head allowing his lips to touch but not kiss the once feverish skin of her arm. He had thought that the ritual would be an automatic cure. That, like he had been, she would suddenly be well. She was better, he knew that. The wound in her shoulder had disappeared and the fever had obviously left her body, but she was still unconscious and her breathing was shallow.

            He wished that he could pray. That there would be someone or something that would listen to him but he knew that there wasn’t, not for him. Besides, prayers were for humans and the faithful and he was neither. No, he couldn’t pray, but he could give whoever or whatever that was listening an earful of reasons why Cordelia Chase needed to live. He could even give an entire list of reasons that weren’t entirely selfish, even though at the moment those were the only reasons he truly cared about. For more than two hours he sat, back against the bed, head snuggled against her arm, convincing some higher power that she should live and knowing that if she didn’t neither would he.

 

*****

 

            It had been horrible, watching her body writhe in pain. At least that part of it had ended a couple of hours ago. When it had begun Angel didn’t know what to do. His first instinct, the most natural one, was to pull her body to him and protect her. But protect her from what? He looked down at her still face and listened to her shallow breaths. Wesley had been the first to notice that whatever she had gone through had actually helped her. However, although her fever was gone, she still lay unconscious. Angel glanced around the room at the other silent occupants that claimed to be his friends.  He couldn’t stand this any longer. If they couldn’t find a way to help her then he would. He stood and headed for the door.

            “Angel?” Fred called unanswered.

            Gunn stepped in front of Angel, blocking him from the door. “Just where the hell you think you’re goin’?”

            Angel stared at the young man, almost hoping he would try and stop him. “To find out what the rest of you haven’t been able to.” He moved around Gunn and to the door.

            “Angel?” another feminine voice called out, this one in a weak whisper.

            Angel darted back to Cordelia’s side, his inhuman speed allowing him to beat the other two men in the room.

            “Cordelia?” he said in almost disbelief, staring down at the waking woman.

            Cordelia blinked her eyes, focusing in on the room and her surroundings. The last thing she remembered was walking up the stairs with Angel to check on their … on Connor and then feeling mind numbing pain that dwarfed that of the visions. She sat up and looked into the tentative but hopeful eyes of the vampire in front of her.

            Angel reached out and embraced her, pressing his face to the side of hers and whispering something that she had heard his future self say not long ago, “I thought I lost you.”

            This was not Angel, not L.A. Angel anyway. She struggled to remember that as her body relaxed into the embrace. She placed her arms around him, her mind chanting over and over ‘thisisnotAngel thisisnotAngel ‘ but her entire being wished that it was. She would give anything for this all to have been some terrible nightmare, to have awaken and found him laying on this bed with her, Connor snuggly in between. But it wasn’t a dream and, no matter what her body and a piece of her heart was telling her, the arms that encircled her did not belong to the man she … loved. She pushed back gently and looked off to the side of Angel, lost in a dream like stare. She tested the word in her mind again. Loved. Love. L-O-V-E.  Love. The man I love. She thought that it should make her uncomfortable or at least feel a little odd that she would use such a word to describe her relationship with Angel. But it didn’t. Maybe it was because they had all said it to one another in the past. They were all family after all and families love each other. She thought about Gunn, Wes, Fred, Connor, and Lorne. Yes, they were a family and she loved each and ever one of them same. Each and every one of them except for Angel. He was different, he always had been.

            “Cordelia?” Angel asked with concern.

            Broken from her epiphany, she focused on the face in front of her with sad eyes. She was in love with Angel. It had taken his absence to set free the truth that had been locked away for so long. Now, he was gone, and she might never get a chance to tell him or know just what he felt for her. What if he didn’t feel the same? She couldn’t think of that now because at the moment the worst of her torture stared questioningly into her eyes. Even if he didn’t feel the same or worse even if they never got him back, she could be damned to spend the rest of her life in the company of an Angel that never knew what their friendship meant. That never knew the heartaches and laughter they had experienced together. That still lurked in the shadows, disappeared for days, and worst of all… loved Buffy Summers.

 

*****

 

            Angel had just began again his list of reasons for Cordelia’s life to be spared when he heard a soft moan. He raised to his feet and took a seat beside her on the bed. Cordelia pushed herself up with her hands and looked at him with confusion. “Angel?”

            Angel forgot where he was, who she was and wasn’t, and grabbed her into a fierce embrace. The look in his eyes was wild and for the teenager that he crushed in his arms a bit frightening. She didn’t fight the hold he had on her. Truth be told it felt wonderful to be held in such a way - the way a man holds a woman. Angel pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes. He had almost lost his mind in those two hours. Old images returned to him. Vocah, Wolfram and Hart, The Powers That Be, they had all caused her so much pain, but it had all been because of him. His eyes stared at her face, unfocused. “I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again.” Angel, the madness caused by her pain still fresh upon him, leaned closer and captured her lips with his own.

            Cordelia froze. She had seen the look on his face. His eyes might have been set in her direction, but she wasn’t what he saw. Her mind struggled to process the vow he had made. Just like the look, it was not for her and neither was the kiss. She started to break free, kill his madness, before noticing that she was no longer frozen with stiff indifference but participating quite willingly in the passionate kiss that grew in intensity with each passing moment. She knew that something was wrong. Her brain tried to debate on the wrongness of something that somehow felt right as she gave herself one more second of bliss before pushing away.

            Angel’s eyes opened, really opened, and for the first time since she had awoke saw the beautiful long-haired brunette in front of him.  “Oh God. Cordelia, I …” he began to explain.

            Embarrassment over the intimate moment came out of Cordelia like many things often did, in anger, as she pushed harder against his chest. “I don’t know what mental vacation you’re returning from, but could you please get your vampy claws off of me?”

            Angel stood and lowered his head, ashamed of his actions. What was wrong with him? She must think him perverted or at least insane. A feeling of betrayal rolled around in his stomach. He had missed Cordy so much, afraid of never seeing her again, afraid of her dying, and how did he respond to those fears? By kissing another woman.

            Wait a minute.

            Had he kissed another woman? His thoughts began to battle one another. Technically it was her. He looked at the young girl who now stood across the room, as far away from him as she could manage. He could see small signs of the woman he loved in the girl, but she wasn’t Cordy, not yet anyway. This was Cordelia Chase of Sunnydale and the reason he had never noticed her when he was here before was because he wasn’t meant to. He hadn’t been ready for her then and now, as he looked at her face - unharmed by visions, untouched by accidental plummets into alternate dimensions, unfazed by Doyle’s death, and innocent of the betrayals that he himself had once visited upon her - he knew that she was not ready either. Did he love the girl in front of him? Desperately. How could he not? She was Cordy - young, innocent, and free - ready to leave this terrible place and discover what lay ahead for her - friends, a family, and love. He loved her, but he had to wait for her. God this was going to be torture.

            Cordelia looked across the room. Angel seemed to regain his senses but she wasn’t taking any chances. She mentally said a prayer of thanks that Buffy hadn’t walked into the room during their little make-out session. He’d been delirious. She had seen it in his eyes, but she was sure that that explanation would not go over too smoothly with the Slayer. She couldn’t think. The fact that Angel had kissed her scared her, but the way she had reacted to it had terrified her even more. “You kissed me,” she finally said, reaching up with one hand, her fingertips touching the pink skin of her lips.  “But you weren’t kissing me,” she finished, wondering why her voice was filled with disappointment.

            “Cordelia, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking or …” he couldn’t continue, he didn’t know how.

            Cordelia willed her hand to move away from her face. This was ridiculous. Angel said she had been poisoned. Maybe that was what was causing the weakness in her knees and the flush in her cheeks.  Yes, that had to be it. She would never be attracted to a vampire, that was just gross. She closed her eyes, forcing her mind to picture his other face. No, she definitely was not attracted to him - bumpy face, long jagged fangs … strong muscular shoulders, perfect lips, and a voice that made her legs …Cordelia’s eyes shot open and she looked at Angel in horror. He might not have been kissing her, but she had definitely been kissing him and enjoying it. But why?

            Wesley continued watching from the doorway of the next room, the look of terror on Cordelia’s face sealing his decision. At first, the sight of Angel and Cordelia locked in a passionate kiss had stunned him. He’d initially thought that the kiss had been welcomed, relished even, but the way she had pushed him away, her comment, and the look of horror that now marred her beautiful face told him the truth. Wesley’s watcher mind, and his heart, began to analyze the situation. Before, he had gone away, resigned to leave Cordelia’s well being in the hands of a killer. He looked from Angel’s hurt and longing stare back to the face of his perspective love, who was still frozen with what seemed to him fear. Something came to him.  Angel truly loved Cordelia, the success of the ritual proved that, but that did not mean that she reciprocated that feeling. Being a watcher, he knew something about the possessiveness of vampires, of how they can fixated on something or someone, whether the fixation was welcome or not. How could he have been so foolish? All of the signs had pointed to this. Angel’s reaction to her injury, the way he pushed everyone away from her. Somehow, someway, this future Angel had become completely obsessed with her. Wesley summoned as much bravery as he could. He couldn’t believe he’d been willing to leave this young, innocent girl in the hands of the vampire.  Deciding himself Cordelia’s personal savior from the Scourge of Europe, Wesley squared his shoulders and entered the room.

            “Wesley,” Cordelia said with a small amount of surprise and an enormous amount of relief.

            Angel’s muscles tensed as Wesley crossed the room, ignoring him completely.

            Wesley’s fear began to rise at the feel of Angel’s stare on his back. He buckled down his emotion. Cordelia’s safety was much more important than his fear of what Angel could and probably would do to him. He swallowed and placed his hand on Cordelia’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you have recovered. It was unbearable watching you in such pain. How are you feeling?”

            “I’m fine,” her eyes turned to Wesley, determined to avoid looking at Angel again. “I want to go home. Can you take me?”

            “I’ll take you,” Angel finally spoke, moving toward the couple.

            “The sun is rising,” Wesley answered for her. “You could hardly drive her home. Or were you planning to drag her through the filthy sewers?”

            Angel’s anger was rising. It had been easy to threaten Wesley while Cordelia was unconscious, but now he restrained himself, not wanting her to see any viciousness toward their future friend.

            Wesley began to lead Cordelia to the doorway and into the other room before stopping. “I’d like to speak with Angel just a moment. Can you wait in the other room?” he asked gently.

            She nodded and gave Angel a fleeting glance before leaving.

            Wesley called upon every bit of nerve he had and turned to the vampire. “I observed your actions toward Cordelia from the doorway.”

            Angel only answered by continuing to stare at the empty doorway.

            Wesley continued, “I believe you gave me a warning earlier. Let me now repeat that same warning back to you. Cordelia is a young, innocent girl. I don’t know what has happened in the future to cause you to become fixated on her, or to convince yourself that you are in love with her, but I know Cordelia Chase. She would never be able to love a monster such as yourself.”

            Angel’s eyes shifted and stared directly into Wesley’s. The two men continued for a moment in a soundless stand off. Wesley was the first to break the cold silence. “If I ever see a look of fear on her face caused by you again, or if you ever force yourself upon her again, I will be more than willing to do what I should have ordered Buffy to do the day I arrived in Sunnydale.”

            With that threat, the young Watcher left the room.

            Angel let Wesley go, and as much as he hated to see Cordelia leave with him, he knew he couldn’t follow. Day was breaking and he needed to be alone, to think about what kissing Cordelia, this Cordelia, meant. Everything had become so complicated, as if it wasn’t already.

            Angel forced a breath into his lungs as he sat down on the bed, for once welcoming the solitude of the mansion. He closed his eyes when he heard the familiar footsteps enter the room from the courtyard.

            “Hey,” Buffy greeted quietly, approaching him slow and steady. “I just saw Wesley leaving with Cordelia. She seems all better. The ritual must have worked,” she ended a little sadly.

            Angel didn’t answer her or even look in her direction as she sat down beside him on the bed.

            “So, I assume Cordelia’s part of that family you’re so anxious to get back to. She’s been going around school for a month now bragging about how she’s getting out of this hellhole. Is that why you leave?  To follow her.”

            Angel could hear the hurt in her voice. “I didn’t leave for Cordelia, Buffy. I didn’t even really know her back then. I left for me, and a little bit for you too,” he answered her in a defeated tone, continuing to stare straight ahead. Gathering his thoughts, Angel allowed the silence to linger before speaking again. “Slayers aren’t just strong Buffy. They’re extremely intuitive. They’re first instinct is always the right.”

            “You sound like Giles,” she complained, now staring in the same abyss that kept Angel‘s eyes forward.

 

            “ … “

 

            “ … “

 

            “Do you remember what you said to me, right after I killed Darla and you finally knew what I was? We were in the Bronze,” he reminded.

            Buffy remembered that night. She felt like she could never forget it. “I said …” tears pricked her eyes when the words came to her.  She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I said this could never work.”

            Angel turned and looked at her for the first time, catching her eye, his face full of sympathy. “A slayer’s first instinct is always right.”

            Tears spilled over Buffy’s eyes as she gave a weak but knowing smile, letting herself accept a truth that she had always on some level known.

 

*****

 

            Part Ten

 

            The morning sun caught the lens of Wesley’s glasses, breaking Cordelia from her trance like state of deep thought. She had been right to ask him to take her home, getting away from Angel had helped her think more clearly about what had happened at the mansion. Now, even though her mind still swarmed with questions about the who, why, and what the hell, she could make at least some sense of waking up in such a predicament. The look in Angel’s eyes, the bizarre vow he had made, the answer was simple, Angel’s crazy.  She had remembered Buffy talking about his mental state after his little trip to the fire pit. She also remembered hearing Giles say something around Christmas about Angel seeing dead people. Still, when she woke up and saw his face, there was an instant of relief, a feeling that she was and would be safe as long as he was there watching over her.

            Reaching for her key, Cordelia turned to Wesley. She looked up at him with a slight smile, feeling a small amount of guilt for almost forgetting that he was there beside her as she lost herself in thought. Out of the hundreds of questions troubling her, one suddenly came front-and-center, begging to be answered. “Wesley, why did you leave me with Angel?”

            Wesley was somewhat caught off guard. How much should he say about what had happened and why? He knew one thing - he wouldn’t lie. He might avoid telling her everything, but he wouldn’t lie.

            “Wesley?” she prompted

            “Well, Angel felt a sense of responsibility for your injury.” Truth.  “He … offered to take you to the safety of his mansion for protection.” Also true. “It seemed like a good idea … at the time,” he added.

            “And none of you thought that taking me to the emergency room might be a better idea than, oh, I don’t know, leaving me with Buffy’s unstable, demonic lover … not that I’m complaining or anything.”

            “You must remember that this is Angel’s past. He knew all about the arrow and the poison that it injected into your blood.”

            That feeling crept over her again - the one of being safe and protected - at the thought of Angel knowing how to fix things, how to keep her safe. “So he knew just what to do to cure me,” she stated, almost too brightly for even her ears.

            “Oh no. He knew nothing about curing you,” Wesley knew what jealousy

            felt like and he didn’t like it. He tried to chase it away before

            finishing his answer. He failed. “Angel was simply keeping you safe

            while Mr. Giles and I researched the poison and possible cures. When

            I found the remedy in one of the …”

            “So you’re responsible for my quick and speedy, but not too energetic, recovery.” Of course it wasn’t Angel. Psycho killer, remember.

            Now Wesley weighed this last statement very carefully. He had told himself that under no circumstances would he blatantly lie to her.  So, he couldn’t tell her that he himself had performed the ritual to cure her - that would be a lie. But, she didn’t say ‘cured me’. She said ‘responsible for recovery’. He had been the one to translate the passage from the old dusty tome. Without his skills in research or his ability to translate old dead languages, Angel may have never known what to do. He ignored his conscience and answered the question as truthfully as his heart would let him. “Well, I only did what could be expected,” he answered in an affirmative tone, implying that her statement was correct.

            Well, that had answered the most important question. No matter what her delirium fooled her into thinking or feeling about Angel, the truth was in front of her in the form of Wesley Wyndam Price. He had been her rescuer. She should have known that he probably had been the only one who really cared that her life was in jeopardy. She also should have known that, without the guilt of knowing that it should have been him, Angel would have never offered to take care of her while Wesley found a cure. She looked up at her ‘shining knight’ now squinting from the rays that broke over the horizon. He wasn’t tall dark and deadly but he was Wesley and he had saved her life.  Cordelia leaned slightly toward the nervous man. She ever so slowly wet her lips, preparing to erase one kiss with another.

            Wesley knew immediately what she was preparing to do. His forehead broke out into a sweat, leaving his skin cold from the morning breeze. Angel’s threats from the previous night made his eyes dart from side to side as if the vampire would be hiding in the day lit yard, spying on his every move, waiting to make good on his promise.  His heart began to race with fear at the thought of Angel and anticipation at the sight of Cordelia as she leaned even closer, eyes half closed. Excitement pushed away fear and he closed his eyes and leaned in a bit too quickly, bumping Cordelia’s nose with his own. Embarrassed, he decided that a take-charge approach might serve him better, as he took hold of Cordelia’s shoulders and pulled her body into a more advantageous position. Yes that was much better.

            Wesley’s lips moved, trying to find a seductive rhythm. The kiss

            deepened - hands reached - bodies swayed, eventually finding support

            from the front door of Cordelia’s house. It was long, wet, and

            simply …

            Terrible. Cordelia couldn’t believe it. He had been the only one in the group to really care about her, he had saved her life, made sure that she was safely home, and now was giving her what should be the ‘happily ever after’ kiss. She broke away and wiped the droll from her chin. She looked up at her suitor, savior, and valiant protector and cursed herself for kissing him, for using that kiss to ask the question “Is it him?“. She had been so impatient for a resolution to her problem, for Wesley to make her forget the madness with Angel and to sweep her into his arms that she never thought that the answer to her question could be no. It wasn’t him. She wasn’t in love with Wesley and that made her world a lot more bizarre. She reached behind herself, turned the key in the lock, and quickly opened the door. “I’m just going to go …” she trailed off as she pointed behind herself, unable to think of a proper excuse.

            Wesley, stirred from his own thoughts, quickly answered, “Of course, I will just …” he pointed, indicating his car. He turned and began walking away briskly, hearing the door close soundly behind him. He wondered to himself where he had gone wrong. Why had the kiss produced no spark, no magic, no desire. His analytical mind began to work, dissecting every aspect of the kiss. It could possibly have been fatigue. They had both had a long night. It could also have been the fact that, no matter what show he had put on for Angel, he was still terrified of the vampire and had taken his threat about Cordelia to heart. That had to be it. Wesley started his car and smiled, convinced that the kiss could have been better and telling himself that he would make sure he had another chance to convince her too.

            Cordelia leaned her back against the inside of the closed front door. She thought about Wesley and a smile broke across her face.  How embarrassing. Poor Wesley, she had practically thrown herself on him. Well, maybe the kiss hadn’t been such a terrible idea after all. At least now she knew that she was definitely not in love with him. She just hoped that he wouldn’t hold their little ‘front porch fiasco’ against her. Maybe if she acted like nothing had happened he would too. She did know one thing, he had saved her life; and although that act might not have stirred a great and passionate love inside of her, it did garner him a place on the very short list of her true friends. He had done something wonderful for her and she would never forget it.

            Her mind settled about Wesley and his place in her life, Cordelia let the thoughts that her impromptu kiss had been meant to banish come full force in her head. She thought about Angel, about the way she had felt when he had kissed her. Her eyes became unfocused as she stared off for a moment, dark brown eyes full of need and half-crazed love stared back. She felt the crush of his kiss, his strong hands grabbing, pulling her close to him. Her eyes glazed over, she lost herself in the scene that played in her head until she felt as if she was there again, in Angel’s arms. Except this time, she didn’t break free, didn’t flee like a scared little girl to the opposite end of the room. She imagined herself wrapping her arms around him as her fantasy kiss deepened, becoming passionately savage. Angel lowered her back down to the bed as fire sparked and frantically raced through her body, finally settling between her … Cordelia shook her head, jarring herself back to reality. She ran to the guest bath just off of the front hallway and splashed cold water on her face. There had to be a reason the poison was still affecting her. She briefly thought about contacting Wesley. She had intended on asking him more questions about the poison and just what ‘the cure’ had been, but their awkward lip-lock had killed her mood for conversation. Deciding that she couldn’t possibly face Wesley just yet, she grabbed her mom’s keys, hoping that she would find Giles - and a few answers - in the school library.

 

*****

 

 

            Angel sat quietly on the hotel sofa and stared at the back of Cordelia’s head through the office window as he pretended to polish the massive broadsword. She had been so different since her miraculous recovery early this morning. Gone were the reassuring glances and the brilliant smiles. They had been replaced with avoiding eyes and one word answers to any and every question he could think to ask her. Everyone had noticed the change and had been discussing it throughout the day in whispered conversations the hoped Cordelia couldn’t hear. Finally, Fred said that enough was enough and they all drew straws to determine which unlucky soul was going to talk to Cordelia. When Wesley drew the short straw, everyone but him seemed to give a sigh of relief. That had been a half hour ago, just after sunset. Ever since then Angel had been sitting there, pretending to polish the weapon in his hands and trying to eavesdrop on the conversation that would hopefully explain Cordelia’s bad attitude and why it seemed directed mainly toward him.

 

*****

 

            Wesley paced back and forth across the floor of his office. Finally believing he had found the most delicate approach, he stopped in front of his seated friend. “Cordelia,” he noted the familiar raised eyebrow, a warning to approach with caution. He continued in the gentlest voice he could manage, “Ever since you were cured from your mysterious illness earlier this morning, it has seemed that you are … well, angry with Angel.”

            Cordelia jumped to her feet and put her hands to her hips, an angry scowl crossing her pretty face. “Sunnydale Angel,” she said in a tone of forced calm.

            “Yes, that’s who I’m talking about. You have been …”

            “No, say it. Sunnydale Angel,” she ordered.

            “What?” Wesley questioned, puzzled by her sudden outburst.

            “He,” she began, pointing out of the office window and to the staring vampire. “..is Sunnydale Angel. He is not Angel.”

            “Cordelia, I am fully aware…”

            “Are you?” her voice rose another level. “..cause you could’ve all fooled me. All day long it’s been ‘Angel this’ and ‘Angel that’.” Cordelia’s voice became shaky and even more distressed. “You’re all acting like nothing happened. Like Angel never left. Like …” she forced herself to stop, fearing what she was about to admit to Wesley and possibly herself.

            Sympathetically, Wesley finished for her in almost a whisper as he sat down on the edge of his desk. “Like he’s never coming back.”

            Cordelia looked at the plant in the corner of the office, and slowly nodded her head.

            “It is a possibility you know. Fred could be right in her theory - that whatever happened to Angel happened in the past. If that is true, we have no way of really knowing if or when he will find a way back.”

            “How can you sit there and say that?” she asked, turning her eyes accusingly toward him. “He’s only been gone two days, Wesley. He’ll find a way back. He will,” she whispered again, reassuring herself.

            “But what if he doesn’t Cordelia, or what if it takes him longer than you are willing to accept. The powers are obviously going to continue to send you visions even in Angel’s absence. They must see him as a valid replacement and, at least for the time being, I believe that we should too. We, all of us, have to think about the mission first. You do remember telling us all that just a few days ago?”

            Cordelia was disgusted with Wesley’s ’rational’ thought process. She stood, unable to control her anger, or her voice. “You think that vampire out there can replace Angel? That pathetic excuse for a hero is fresh out of hell, Buffy whipped, and might I remind you due for a very nasty little thing we like to call the ‘beige period’ and you want us to trust him with Angel’s mission? He’s not Angel, Wes. HE didn’t watch Doyle die, or help you get back on your feet. HE never saved me or Fred or any of us for that matter. He never made a vow to his friends that he would never turn away from them again and he didn’t stand in the pouring rain in a dirty ally and watch the best thing that ever happened to him come into this world. He’ll never have any of those experiences, Wesley, and without them he can’t be Angel, not the one I want here.”

            Cordelia stormed out of Wesley’s office and into the hotel lobby.  She saw the imposter sitting there with Angel’s favorite sword in hand, frozen by her harsh words that he had obviously overheard.

            She looked at him straight in the eyes for the first time since this morning. Her stare was cold and angry as she took long quick strides toward him. “Give it to me,” she ordered with an outstretched hand.  “The broadsword, give it to me. Angel doesn’t like anyone touching his weapons.”

            What she had said in Wesley’s office had hurt him. He had sat by her side all night, watched her suffer until he had been ready to do anything, even offer up his own existence if it had meant that she would be safe. He WAS the Angel she had described or at least he wanted to be, could be if she would let him, but she would never see him that way. She could only think about the version of himself that had given her all of those memories, good and bad. That Angel was her hero - not him. He had tried to keep a tap on his emotions when he heard her talking to Wesley about how he wasn’t Angel, but now she had said that name again, just like she had said it to Wesley in the office - Angel, not L.A. Angel or Future Angel or Present Angel, just Angel, as if there was the one and only and no other. It hurt.  He hurt. And he wanted her to know how that felt. His anger began to rise, meeting hers head on. “This is my broadsword,” he stood, meeting her angry glare. “I had this long before I came to L.A. or Sunnydale for that matter. Now, if you don’t mind, I was just going to take it downstairs for a little practice session. So, move,” he said through gritted teeth.

            Cordelia crossed her arms defiantly, “You’re not taking Angel’s sword anywhere.”

            “Move, or I’ll move you,” he warned.

            An old familiar feeling settled over Cordelia, immediately turning her rage into resigned hurt. She moved out of Angel’s way and turned to Wesley who was now standing in the lobby just behind her, offering her an apologetic look, full of sympathy.

            “Cordelia,” Wesley tried.

            “I’m okay, Wes,” she answered, her voice defeated and depressed. She glanced back at Angel with eyes now void of hurt and anger, but full of sorrow and fear. “I just, I need to go home.”

            Angel’s anger deflated at the sight of her face. He wanted to say something, apologize, make her happy or even mad again. Anything but this. She was beyond angry now or even hurt, this was something much deeper, something old, something he knew nothing about. The words she spoke to Wesley echoed in his mind. She was right, without the memory of his time with her, he could never be the Angel she wanted, the one that would know why that comment had caused her so much pain, and the one who would have been smart enough never to speak to her like that in the first place.

            Angel watched helplessly as Cordelia packed up her purse and left for her apartment, evidently unable to stand another moment in his presence.

 

*****

 

            Part Eleven

           

Angel walked stealthily through the abandoned school hallway. His ancient muscles felt, well, ancient and his eyes begged for sleep.  The ritual had taken a lot out of him and the long talk he had with Buffy, although filled with much needed closure, had drained what little bit of reserve energy he had left. He was exhausted and should have spent the day sleeping, building up his strength and energy for the battle with the mayor. He had tried all day, with fruitless results, to get some rest. Still, sleep never came.  Instead of getting any rest, he had spent his day pacing the mansion, worrying, okay fantasizing, about the kiss he and Cordelia had share - or more accurately put, the one he had forced upon her.  He had scolded himself over and over as he paced, telling himself it had been wrong to lose himself in the moment, to let his fear for Cordy and the danger the poison might have put her in, rule his senses. The kiss was wrong and extremely inappropriate. He knew that. His conscious kept telling him enough, but somehow, he couldn’t make his body agree.

            He had tried to replay the moment in his mind all day, hoping that seeing himself in that moment with her would rouse his ever present sense of guilt. It didn’t. In fact it had worked in just the opposite manner because every time he played the scene in his mind it changed just a little. The hair became shorter, the body more voluptuous, the eyes a little wiser, until he finally knew that he could never really feel complete guilt over the kiss because in that moment he needed Cordy. He needed her there with him and in a way she was. Yes, that was it. She would believe that explanation when he returned to his time. It was her body after all. He’d felt it’s sleek muscles and soft curves enough times while sparring with her or holding her a little too closely when the visions used to cause pain. He couldn’t help himself. He was crazed with fear and love after all and had acted out something that had lay dormant in him for so long that he had been unable to control his reaction when he knew that she would live. How could she possibly blame him? He knew the answer the minute he asked himself the question. She could blame him because no matter what his body felt, or how he tried to emotionally rationalize it, he should have never let it happen. It was stupid, irresponsible and wrong.

            So why did he want to do it again?

            He couldn’t be trusted, not around Cordelia. That’s why he had decided just after dark to come to the library in the hopes of finding Giles and good news about the ingredient for the spell to send him home. It had only been two days but he hoped against hope that maybe it had come early. Then, he could get away from this place and all of these conflicting feelings that seemed to be ravaging his mind.

            The second he pushed open the doors, he felt disappointment. Giles wasn’t there. The library was as dark as the rest of the school, except for the soft glow of a lamp coming from the office. He focused in on the door and tuned into his senses. He heard the soft beat of Cordelia’s heart and secretly moved closer to the closed door, staying far enough in the shadows of the room that he knew she wouldn’t be able to detect his presence. Through the glass window he could see her. Books and paper were scattered on the floor and on top of the desk in front of her. She sat in Giles’ chair, her face staring not at the volumes of information in front of her but buried in her hands.

            Angel coached himself just as he had yesterday morning when Cordelia began to lead him down to the basement. In his mind he repeated the advice he had failed to follow then. He should turn around, head straight back to the mansion until he was needed for the fight. He had every intention on doing just that until Cordelia raised her head and he saw tears glistening in her eyes. Good intentions never really worked well for him anyway. He reached down and turned the door knob slowly, trying not to frighten her by his sudden appearance.

            “Oh God, Angel you scared me,” she sniffed, trying to hide the fact that she had been crying.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just … I was looking for Giles.”

            “Yeah, me too. I came in this morning but I haven’t seen him all day,” she said, trying to avoid his stare and the fluttering feeling it caused in her belly. She was so tired and for some reason a little embarrassed about her appearance now that Angel was standing in the room.

            She looked so tired. “Cordelia, you really should go….”

            “Angel, do you believe in true love?” she asked, finally finding the courage to look up into his eyes.

            “What?” he shifted, he supposed her bluntness would always catch him off guard.

            “True love. You know, the whole soul mates, meant to be together, predestined love. That kind of crap. Do you believe in it?”

            Angel took a few steps to the chair on the opposite side of the desk and sat, stalling and considering his answer. Before his mouth formed the word ‘yes’, his eyes caught the familiar hand writing on the legal pad directly in front of Cordelia. He looked at the books strewn around the room and then back to the legal pad. Scribbled at the very bottom, in Wesley’s handwriting, it read: the one chosen to perform such a ritual must be a love, pure and true - a predestined soul mate.

            He looked back to Cordelia, the distress evident on her face. She came to get answers from Giles and found them for herself. “What did Wesley tell you this morning?”

            “He didn’t tell me the specifics, but he did let me know who was responsible for me being alive.” Cordelia picked up the legal pad and turned it around, giving Angel a better view of the words he had already read. “Do you think this is true?” she asked in desperation.  “I mean, it can’t be. Right?” She laid the pad back down on the desk, her eyes glistening again from tears trying to fight their way free. It couldn’t be true. Wesley was sweet, brilliant, and on occasion brave. He had done a wonderful thing for her and she would forever be grateful, but she didn’t love him - not like that. Her eyes pleaded with Angel to answer her question. He had been there last night. Maybe there was something she was missing, maybe they had found a loop-hole, a way around this particular obstacle in curing her. “It’s not true is it, Angel? I wasn’t cured by the person I’m destined to be with. Was I?”

            Well, she knew now. He reconsidered good intentions as he thought about how much safer he would feel at the moment if he had just gone back to the mansion like a good vampire. He leaned forward, his voice soft, “Cordelia, sometimes I think that real love can be right in front of your face but still unrecognizable until you’re ready for it, ready to open yourself up to it, accept it for what it is.  It hides from us until we’re ready and when we finally find it, it can surprise us, even scare us a little. I know it did me.”

            She couldn’t take this. He was actually comparing her dilemma to his tragic love affair with Buffy. She stood up and began to pace behind the desk, her voice rising into a panicked tone. “You don’t understand. I am the worst person on the face of the planet. I’m poisoned by a superhero gone psycho, left for dead, but saved by someone strong, smart, and brave.” Angel’s eyes brightened at the praises she was bestowing upon him. “Someone who loves me enough to declare himself my soul mate,” she stopped pacing and looked at Angel. “Someone I don’t love.”

            Angel‘s face froze, the look in his eyes changed. “You don’t know

            that,” he began to argue, fear creeping over his body. “You don’t

            know what the future holds. Given time you might…”

            “You’re not understanding me here. If true love was involved in this so-called ritual that cured me, it was strictly one sided. I mean, I was attracted, in the beginning, the whole older man kind of thing was kinda sexy, but I know now, especially after this morning, that I am definitely NOT in love. That God awful kiss was proof enough.” Cordelia tried to calm herself by taking a deep breath and forcing herself to sit back down in the chair. She sighed and absently thought aloud, “Besides, I think I’m already falling for someone else.” Cordelia’s cheeks immediately turned a deep shade of crimson.

            She hadn’t meant for the last part to be said aloud. It had been a thought that had been circling around her head all day. Every time she thought of waking up to Angel and his possessive, protective embrace. She knew that she was a fool to think of it. After all,every rational bone in her body had explained to her that none of it had been meant for her, but she wanted it, craved it even. It had been a safe little fantasy as long as it had stayed in her head, but now she had said it aloud and straight to the fantasy himself. She tried to back paddle, hoping he hadn’t really understood what she meant. “Angel, I didn’t mean to say that, I just …”

            “You said what you felt,” Angel interrupted as he tried to pick up his dignity and the shards of his dead heart from the floor.  “There’s no need to apologize.” Wesley had said that Cordelia could never love him, he had always thought that too, in the darker recesses of his mind. Now he knew. It actually saved him a lot of heartache and pain by knowing the truth now. He would go back to his time, Cordelia would forget this conversation ever took place, and Cordy would never know what a fool he had been prepared to make of himself. It actually made some sense. Cordy and Wes had always been close and for the past few months, ever since Pylea, he had caught Wes and Cordy in whispered conversations that he was always too late to catch. He believed what he had said to her, that love can be there all along, waiting for you to be ready. He just didn’t realize at the time he was speaking for Wesley and not himself. Seeing Cordelia in pain last night probably gave Wesley the epiphany he needed to realize his love for her and her love for him. Angel knew that had to be it. He knew all about epiphanies and what seeing Cordy in pain could do to a man who was just realizing how much he loved her.

            Angel stood and walked to the door, he stopped just before leaving the office but didn’t turn around to look at her, he couldn’t.  “Don’t ever apologize for telling me how you feel Cordelia. Even though you know that my feelings for you are not the same as your feelings for me, just know that no matter what, I’ll always be your friend. You can always tell me anything.” No matter how much it hurts, his heart screamed. “Go to Wesley, tell him how you feel. It makes things too hard if you wait. Believe me, I know,” he finished as he left the office, never looking back.

            Cordelia stared at the door when it shut. What did she expect? Of course he would never have any feelings for her. He’d already had the great romance of his life. She laid her head down on Giles’ desk, too tired to get up and leave and too weak to even cry.  Exhaustion took hold of her and she drifted off into a deep if not peaceful sleep, envious of Buffy Summers, not because she had friends or super powers or a loving father figure, not this time anyway. This time she envied something new, something she would never have - Angel’s love.

 

 

            *****

 

            “I said go away.“ Cordelia yelled to her apartment door.

            “Cordelia, please open the door.”

 

            “ … “

 

            “I talked to Fred, she told me about the comment I made. Why it hurt you so much I mean. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I just … I heard all of those things you said about me in Wesley’s office and I just…”

            The door flew open, interrupting the rest of the speech he had spent so much time preparing on the drive over. He had had plenty of time to think of just what to say. Following Fred’s directions wasn’t an easy feat and it had taken him three times as long as it should have to arrive. Of course it had also taken him that much time to finally get Cordelia to open her door.

            “Why did you do that?” she asked accusingly. “You shouldn’t have brought Fred into this. She doesn’t like confrontations, they make her uncomfortable.”

            “I just asked her why that comment would hurt you as much as it obviously did,” he defended, still standing in the hallway outside.  “I didn’t confront her.”

            “No, but now I’m going to have to,” she explained as if he had some mental impediment. “Crazy, innocent, sweet little Fred is going to be on the receiving end of one of my lectures on staying out of other people’s business. Thanks a lot, Mr. Sunnydale.”

            “Would you please quit calling me …” Angel tried to enter, but stopped in mid-sentence when the barrier pushed him back.

            Cordelia looked at him and crossed her arms, her lips spread into a smirk. “You can’t come in. Can you?” she suddenly realized. “You can’t come in because YOU have never been invited.”

            “Invite me in,” he ordered.

            “No.”

            “Cordelia, please, I just want to talk to you.”

            “So talk.”

            “Without the presence of neighbors,” he emphasized, giving an ugly glance to the elderly woman peeking out of her door down the hall.

            “I’m sorry, I don’t invite people I don’t know into my home.”

            “Dammit Cordy, would you quit acting like a child and invite me in.”

            Cordelia’s smirk was quickly wiped from her face, replaced by an angry scowl. “What the hell did you just call me?”

            Angel took a deep, cleansing breath. Making Cordelia mad wasn’t helping. “I’m sorry, you’re not a child.”

            “Not that you idiot. The other thing.”

            “What? I didn’t … I said…”

            “You called me Cordy,” she stared angrily.

            “Well, that’s what the rest of the group calls you.”

            “Yes, the group. You seem to be under the delusion that you are part of that group. You’re not ya know. You’re not him. You never will be. He’s gone,” her voice weakened. “He’s gone and no one can replace him. Ever.” Cordelia sat down on her sofa, waving away the floating tissues. They were unneeded. She wouldn’t cry.

            “You’re right,” Angel began, his tone much more relaxed. “I’m not him. I can’t begin to imagine what all of you have gone through together or how this surrogate family was created. And, even though I’m tempted to say, ‘The hell with it, I’m never going back’, I know that I have to because I’m not him ..and I want to be. I want to have Fred look at me with awe and know why. I want Gunn and Wesley’s respect because I’ve earned it. I want to look at Connor and feel something besides guilt and burden. And I want you … I want ..you.” Angel put his hand against the outside wall, leaning on it as if he needed help standing after that confession. “If I don’t go back I’ll never have any of those things. I’m not him Cordelia, but if I go back, someday I will be.”

            Cordelia stared, mouth slightly agape, astonished at his outpouring of emotion. “Come in, Angel,” she said when she finally regained her ability to speak.

            Angel removed his hand from the outside wall and slowly entered the apartment. Crossing the room, he took the seat beside Cordelia on the sofa. Both stared forward in a moment of silence before Angel spoke. “Do you love him?”

 

            “…”

 

            “Do you?”

            “Yes,” she whispered.

 

            “…”

 

            “I’ve never told him. I don’t think I even realized it until he was gone. It probably doesn’t even matter now. He’s in Sunnydale. If he did have any burgeoning feelings for me I’m sure they’re long gone by now.”

            “Why would you say that?” he asked, astonished at how easily she dismissed his future self.

            “I’m sure being back in Sunnydale has made him realize where he really wants to be.”

            “Why can’t that be here?”

            “Think about it. Who were you mooning over just two days ago?”

            “Actually, I wasn’t mooning. That night, before I was time-warped, was the night that I knew Buffy and I would never make it.  Everything was so screwed up between us. It just wasn’t the same, wasn’t what I wanted.”

 

            “…”

 

            “Has he ever told you?”

            “Told me what?”

            “That he loves you.”

            “No.”

            “Dumbass.”

            “Excuse me.”

            “Angel, he’s a dumbass. He loves you but has never told you.”

            “What makes you think he’s in love with me?”

            Angel turned and looked at Cordelia. “I know how I feel about you after only two days. All I have to do is think about how I would feel after two years of being in your life, getting to know just what a fascinating woman you really are. I guess I’m the real dumbass for missing you the first time around.”

            Cordelia smiled at the complement. “This is weird.”

            “Yeah, I never share my feelings, with anyone. Avoidance has always been a kind of standard rule of mine. Yet, in the last two days I have had two very openly emotional discussions with you. How do you do that?”

            “I don’t know, it’s a gift. But that’s not what I meant anyway.”

            “What did you mean?”

            “I meant the whole talking about yourself in the third person. It’s really kind of creepy.”

            Angel cracked a small smile and raised his eyebrows, “Well, you’re the one who keeps telling me I’m not him.”

            Cordelia gave him the first real smile he had had from her all day.

            “Dumbass.”

 

            *****

 

            Part Twelve

          

 She could see him. He was far away and veiled in a misty fog, but it was him. His tall dark frame silhouetted in the moonlight. She wanted to go to him but couldn’t move. She called his name, “Angel?” He didn’t answer but began to move slowly toward her. “Angel?” she called again. His face became clearer, his features more defined as he walked through the fog. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Cordelia?” he called, but it wasn’t his voice. Suddenly his broad shape shifted, morphed into a smaller one. “Cordelia?” the voice called again. A dread filled Cordelia’s heart, “Wesley?” she asked. Her dream turned black and Wesley’s voice was the only thing now that filled her mind. “Cordelia,” his voice called once more, now more insistent than before. Cordelia’s eyes slowly opened and the cramp in her neck began to ache.

            “Good lord, Cordelia. Have you been here all night?”

            “You mean its morning again?”

            “When did you arrive?”

            “I came by yesterday morning, right after you dropped me off. I … I just needed some answers, about the poison … and the cure,” she answered, now blushing at her situation as she looked at the disheveled office around her. “What time is it?” she stretched.

            “6:30. We were all going to meet here. Today is the high school graduation and we need to prepare. I must be the first to arrive.”

            Cordelia stretched one last time and forced her fuzzy mind to clear.  She turned in Giles’ swivel chair and looked at Wesley standing beside the desk, studying his gentle eyes and questioning brow.  Angel had been right. If she didn’t talk to Wesley now, make him understand her true feelings for him, things could get confusing and a little weird. She didn’t want that. Wesley was her friend, someone she could trust. “So, we’re alone then?” she asked in a soft voice.

            Wesley’s heart began to race. He had thought that his second attempt could wait until after the battle. He’d hoped that, if they all survived, he and Cordelia could start things fresh. They’d been bombarded with poison, spells, slayers, near death, not to mention vampires…a vampire. He was sure that if he could get her away from all of that, just for a moment, that things might turn out differently than the kiss had. He had been scared, she had been sick, that’s why it had felt so wrong, so platonic. Yes, that was it. Now, he found himself alone with her. He had come in early to study more on the possible side effects of the spell and more importantly, to prove his point that it had only taken Angel’s love to cure her. It didn’t have to be reciprocated… he hoped. Now he was here with her, alone, and happy about it. “Yes, the others won’t be here for a while yet.”

            “Good,” she breathed in deeply. She stood and lead Wesley by the hand to the library outside, sitting down on one of the lounging sofas. Wesley sat beside her and patiently waited to make his move.  “Yesterday morning I was confused,” she began. “I had been poisoned, near death, and woke up to an … awkward situation. Things are just … confusing for me right now.”

            “It’s perfectly alright, Cordelia. I was a little out of sorts myself,” he reassured. “I don’t believe that either of us knew exactly what we were doing.”

            Cordelia smiled. Wesley was going to make this easier for her. He really was a good friend. “I’m glad you see things the same way I do. You know I am all for the hocus pocus stuff when it’s saving my life, but choosing my destiny for me is another thing.”

            The smile of anticipation that had been slowly forming on Wesley’s face began to fade away. He looked back to the office, remembering the study session he had had with Giles and Buffy. She’d come for answers and found them. His lie suddenly crept into his mind. “Your destiny?” he tried to ask with innocence.

            “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I saw the tablet you used to translate the text on. Plus I had a little talk with Angel,” she finished a little disheartened.

            Oh God. Angel had told her the truth. But if she knew, why was she being so nice about it? Wesley shifted uncomfortably, “Cordelia, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept the truth from you.” Wesley paused, he should have never lied. “I came back early to the mansion, after you were cured. I saw you and Angel, when you first awoke,” he emphasized, hoping she understood his meaning.

            “My awkward situation?”

            “Indeed. Knowing the implications of the spell, I acted … protectively of course. I guess I was afraid that if you knew about the ‘true love’ clause that some part of you might think that you were forced to follow it, no matter what your true feelings. I suppose I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want it to be true.”

            “You didn’t? I mean, you don’t think that the two of us…”

            “Of course not. Why should I ever want something like that to happen?”

            “Thank God,” she sighed. “But we’re still friends, right?”

            This question seemed out of place. “Friends?” he asked, wondering why she would ask him if she and Angel had a friendship.

            “Well, yeah. I mean you and I may not be soul mates or destined loves or anything, but we’re still gonna be friends. Right?” she beamed.

            Wesley felt sick. She didn’t know. Not everything anyway. He had told her that he was responsible for her recovery and, believing that, she had read the translated passage thinking it pertained to the two of them. She’d mistakenly thought that she was destined to be with him, spending the last twenty-four hours believing it and hoping it wasn’t true. Wesley’s heart sank, disappointment consumed him. He was such a fool. He’d come here looking for proof that she could love him and she had come here looking for proof that she didn’t. He couldn’t let this go on, he had to let her know the truth. “Cordelia, I ….” he paused, unsure how to set things right.

            “What is it?” she smiled light heartedly now and leaned in closer as if urging him to continue.

            “There’s something I want to tell you, something I must tell you.” Wesley paused again, questioning himself mentally, debating the direct ‘ I lied’ approach over the long, drawn out explanation of ego versus fear.

            Cordelia tried to keep the smile on her face, her patience wearing thin and her muscles aching from a night spent sleeping in Giles’ office. She wanted to go home, crawl in bed and sleep for days.  Hurry up Wesley. She smiled a little tighter, “Wesley, it’s okay, just say it.”

            The direct approach it would be. “Cordelia, I l…”

 

            *****

 

            Angel had gotten some sleep. Although, he wondered to himself if the full twenty-eight minutes that he’d managed to drift off into fitful slumber would sustain him through the battle. He remembered the fight, it wasn’t easy. The mayor had recruited just about every demon in town to help him and even without Faith it had been a struggle to defeat him the first time.

            He rounded the corner of the school hallway, sticking close to the wall to avoid the few morning rays that broke through the windows.  His mind drifted back to the thought that had made his small nap anything but restful. Cordelia. Cordelia and Wesley. He would not get angry. Wesley wasn’t taking something that was his, because she never belonged to him in the first place. So what if they were in love with each other. It wasn’t his business that Cordelia preferred a tweed covered coward over him. Alright, that was a little harsh.  Wesley was a friend and over all a good man. He should be happy that two friends had found their soul mate, their destiny. That was a good thing. It was good that he had convinced her to go and talk to Wesley. Yeah, that was real good. They were probably together right now in some intimate setting, confessing their innermost feelings for each other. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to witness that precious moment. Trying to keep focused on the mission and get home, Angel pushed the wants of his heart and soul to the side as he approached the library doors.

            His sense of smell kicked in just before his hearing. He stood frozen, his hand on the swinging door, listening to the moment he was so sure he’d never have to hear.

            “Cordelia I…”

            What a stammering idiot.

            “What is it?”

            “There’s something I want to tell you, something I must tell you.”

            Go ahead. Say it. Just. One. More. Word. So I can rip your head from your shoulders.

            “Wesley, its okay, just say it.”

            Yes, Wesley, just say it.

            “Cordelia, I l..”

            Cordelia and Wesley both jumped at the sound of cracking wood as both library doors swung violently against the adjacent walls.  “Please, don’t let me interrupt,” Angel’s voice sounded almost silent and definitely deadly. His frightening gaze left them as he crossed the room to the weapons cage, chanting a mantra in his mind.  IwillnotkillWesley. IwillnotkillWesley.

            Cordelia watched Angel as he crossed the room. Closing her eyes and with a deep sigh of frustration she turned back to Wesley before opening them again. “Can we talk about this later?” she all but begged.

            “Cordelia, what went on between you and Angel?”

            “I thought you saw it. You said you were there.”

            “No,” he continued in a whisper. “Yesterday, you said you spoke with him. What did he say to you?”

            Cordelia let out a deep breath, closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. “Wesley, I’m tired. I’m too tired to figure out what you’re trying to tell me, I’m too tired to figure out what’s going on in this screwed up head of mine, and I’m certainly too tired to figure out just what has made ‘Mr. Sunshine’ over there so mad. He’s crazy. You do know that, don’t you?”

            Wesley couldn’t believe what he was about to say. He didn’t trust Angel. Why should he? But for some reason it seemed right, the answer to all of this confusion. “Of course we can discuss this later. I have to return to my apartment. I seem to have forgotten a book that Mr. Giles insisted I bring. He also rang me this morning and told me that he now has the ingredient for the spell to send Angel back to his time. Would you be so kind as to tell him for me before you leave?” Without waiting for an answer from Cordelia Wesley stood and left the library.

            “Fantastic,” Cordelia complained as she stood and stomped over to the opened cage. Angel, his back facing the opening, continued to select his weapons. “Ahem,” she tried. “Wesley said that Giles has the ingredient for your little spell.”

            Angel continued his task, acting as if she wasn’t there.

            This was new. Cordelia Chase was not used to being ignored. She readied for a biting remark, something that would really strike him where it hurts. Nothing came to mind. What should have made her mad and defensive only made her curious, and a little sad. Angel was going back. Going home. That, for some strange and unexplained reason, made her sad. She couldn’t understand it and she couldn’t understand why he was ignoring her. Just yesterday he had said they were friends, that he’d always be her friend, no matter what. But, didn’t that mean she had to be a friend too? She thought about the tone of voice she had just used and the way she had stomped to the cage. “Giles told us all, right after he found the spell, that time should set itself right. None of us will remember that any of this ever happened, except for you of course,” she said with genuine concern.

            Angel continued his actions but spoke, “It’s probably for the best,” he said quietly.

            “Us forgetting you, or you remembering us?”

            “Both actually.”

            “I guess it’s good and bad. For one thing, I’ll forget all about being poisoned. That’s a good thing.”

            Angel placed the hand axe on the shelf and stood motionless, unable to turn and face her. He was glad that memory would be taken from her. She would have too many as it was. “It would be good to forget that,” he answered, wishing it could be wiped from his memory also.

            “But it also means I won’t remember waking up in the mansion,” she said as if she were talking only to herself.

 

            “…”

 

            “Or the kiss,” she finished, dreamily reflecting on that strange but passionate moment.

            Angel’s cooled temper flared again as he picked up the hand axe and flung it into his bag. He turned finally, facing her with a sarcastic look, “Well, I’d think you’d be happy about that too. I mean, it was so horrible,” he said, grabbing his bag and pushing past her.

            Cordelia knew she had made a mistake even bringing it up. He had made his feelings for her quite clear the night before. She tried to fight back astonishment and tears at his insult. “Horrible?” she asked following him into the library.

            Angel turned quickly, nearly bumping into her. “You know that kiss was not one of my best. I mean, I watched you almost die right in front of my eyes. After Giles and Wesley found out how to cure you, I had to go and get Faith’s … information that I needed. It was almost morning by the time I got back and performed the ritual and it was pretty damn painful for me too. I was exhausted and a little delirious so it’s really not fair for you to ….”

            “You cured me?”

            “What?” he answered, frustrated at her interruption.

            “You. You cured me? You performed the ritual?”

            “I thought we covered this last night.”

            “No, last night I said … what did I say last night?”

            “Last night you said you could never love the man who cured you,” Angel reminded her of her painful words.

            “Right. Wesley.”

            “No. Me.”

            “No. Wesley,” she said very slowly.

            “But Wesley didn’t cure you,” Angel placed his bag on the floor, a flicker of hope flashed through his body as he watched Cordelia struggle to piece together the truth.

            Cordelia’s mind worked on the puzzling events of the last couple of days. Wesley never said he performed the spell. Of course, he never said he didn’t. Cordelia looked at Angel and walked to the sofa she and Wesley had just shared. She sat and began to talk to herself.  “That must have been what he was trying to tell me,” she reasoned.

            Angel walked over and took a seat next to her. “Who was trying to tell you?”

            “Wesley, we were sitting here and he was trying to say something and then you came in and scared the crap out of us. After I told him how I felt about him he must have known that I thought the ritual was performed by him.”

            “But it wasn’t,” he wanted to make that point clear.

            “Well duh, I know that now.”

            “But you have feelings for him anyway, don’t you?” Angel prepared himself for the blow.

            “Of course.”

            “Oh.”

            “He’s my friend.”

            “Friend?” he tested the word again, wanting her reassurance.

            “Yes. Friend,” she emphasized.

            “So you’re not in love with him?”

            “No. Definitely not,” she stated with surety. “I’m so embarrassed.  He must have known how confused I was about all of this when I rambled on about the two of us never being ‘true loves’ or ‘destined’ to be together. That must be why he sent me in there to tell you about Giles and the ingredient. He must have thought I would figure it out after talking to you.”

            “Wesley told you to come talk to me?”

            Cordelia nodded her head.

            Wesley was a good man.

            Suddenly the words ‘true love’ and ‘destiny’ began to swim around in Cordelia’s head again. Angel had saved her. He had cured her. Angel.  Her true love? Her … destiny? “So, you’re the one who fit the part huh? My …” she couldn’t say it. Not out loud.

            Angel reminded himself that Cordelia would not remember anything he was about to say. “That only defines me, Cordelia. My feelings for you, or you two and a half years in the future.”

            “So, in the future you and me,” she waved her hand between the two of them.

            “Well, not exactly.”

            “Oh.” Of course not.

            “I haven’t actually gotten around to telling you yet.”

            “Well what the hell are you waiting for?” she whined.

            “I don’t know. I guess I’m scared you won’t feel the same. We become such good friends, best friends. If I tell you and you don’t feel the same way, it might ruin that.”

            “Well can’t you tell if I feel the same way or not? Haven’t I given off any signs or anything? Have we even kissed?”

            Angel gave her a hard look.

            “I mean in the future, dumbass,” her voice began to rise.

            “No, but if your definition of our kiss the other night is any indication of how you feel in the future, I can safely say that that is not a good sign,” his tone rose to match hers.

            “What definition?”

            “You know, horrible.”

            Cordelia wanted to laugh. He thought that she thought their kiss had been horrible. It was almost funny. She gave him a small smile and her voice softened, “It wasn’t horrible Angel. It was … breathtaking.”

            “Breathtaking huh?”

            “Yeah,” she smiled.

            “But you kept talking about the kiss, how horrible it was.”

            “Oh, it was. The drool and the grabby hands. Wesley and I were definitely not meant for each other.”

            “Wesley kissed you?”

            Cordelia nodded her head as if nothing was wrong.

            “After you left the mansion?”

            “Yeah,” she said, wondering why Angel was acting like it was such a big deal. She had said it was horrible.

            Angel tried to suppress the mantra that had plagued him earlier by reminding himself that Wesley was a good man. A good. Dead. Man.

 

            Part Thirteen

          

 The battle had been fierce, but remarkably it had progressed and ended much like it had the first time. Angel stood amid the ambulances and fire trucks, listening to the authorities and their blind excuses for why the catastrophe had happened. He placed his hand over his coat pocket, double checking for the ingredient and incantation needed to send him back home. He was ready, or so he thought. He looked around the chaotic scene, trying to catch one more glimpse of Cordelia. He didn’t really understand why, he knew she was safe. He’d seen her right after the explosion. It was time to go. So what was he waiting for?

            Angel scanned the crowd, his eyes settling on the figure that stood at the opposite end of the parking lot. Buffy. She looked back at him, mirroring his still, calm stare. A few days ago he had hated her for what she had done. Now, standing here amid all of this destruction, she looked so young, almost childlike. A revelation finally came to him. She was never like a child, she was a child.  What was it her mother had told him? That she was a young girl in love that couldn’t see past tomorrow when it came to him. He had always known that leaving her had been the best thing for him, but he had often wondered if it had been the best thing for her.

            He remembered standing just like this the first time, afraid to leave, guilt consuming him over the thought that without his help and protection, the Slayer might not survive. Didn’t survive. His mind repeated the questions he had asked himself in this spot two and a half years ago. Should he stay? Should he give up finding his place, his hopes, his life, to keep the Slayer safe? Was she too weak to stand alone? He watched as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. With her head held high, she gave Angel a tight smile, and this time, Buffy turned and walked away. Angel’s guilt faded. He had no doubt that what he had done was right for her. Buffy was strong, she already had everything she needed even before he came along. It would have been wrong for him to have given up his place, his life, just to stay in Sunnydale to be the Slayer’s faithful but deadly weapon. She didn’t need him anymore than he needed her. She already had a destiny.

            “So, you’re just going to leave without even saying goodbye?” an annoyed voice asked.

            Yeah the Slayer had a destiny. And so did he.

 

            *****

 

            Cordy’s foot ached but she definitely could not go back upstairs, not yet. She had made peace with Sunnydale Angel. She had even started calling him just ‘Angel’ aloud. Of course she made sure she mentally put the ‘Sunnydale’ before it. But she still couldn’t stomach his ‘assimilation’, as Wesley called it, into their lives, into Angel’s life. He had said he wanted to go back, that he needed to in order to have what he wanted. He’d tried to make her believe that earlier today. But, Cordy had always been the kind of person who believed in actions over words and right now ‘Sunnydale‘s‘ actions screamed, “I‘m staying right where I am.” Cordelia stood straight and focused on the punching bag in front of her and tried the spin kick again.

            “You’re doing it all wrong,” came the voice of the vampire she was avoiding.

            Why? Why did he have to come down here right now? “You’re the one that taught it to me,” she deadpanned, trying another kick and falling to the floor.

            Angel couldn’t help his amusement and smiled as he descended the basement stairs to help her to her feet. He watched as she struggled to get up before he could reach her. God this woman was driving him crazy. After they had come back from her apartment that morning, he had shamelessly tried everything he could to get a moment alone with her or steal some type of accidental touch, but it seemed as if she had been trying to avoid him. It was making him insane and driving him to thoughts that he knew were wrong. He had had to summon his ever trusty sense of guilt several times throughout the day to squelch the hope that his future self would never find his way back, but for some reason, looking at her now, the guilt just couldn’t or wouldn’t rise to the occasion.

            “I’ve got it,” Cordelia tried to brush off Angel’s hands. She was already tense enough with her brain’s warning signal of ‘Sunnydale Angel, Sunnydale Angel’ going off every time he entered the room.  She didn’t know if she would be able to handle the full scale code red if he had his hands on her.

            “Here, let me show you,” he schooled, standing behind her and placing his hands on her hips.

            All of Cordelia’s warning mechanisms went into high alert. Her body tensed at the feel of his hands on her hips. She should move them off, she knew that, but he was just trying to help. Angel had trained her like this on a daily basis. He was only doing the same.  It was completely innocent. She tried to relax her body and listen to his instructions.

            “No wonder you’re leaning into it so much, you’re way too tense. You have to relax the muscles just a bit so you can lean out of the kick a little. It helps to give a more powerful blow to your opponent.”

            Cordelia moved away from Angel’s light but steady grasp, “Oh, that’s what I was doing wrong,” she said nervously. “I’ll make sure I work on that next time.”

            Angel touched her shoulder before she could walk up the stairs. “I can show you how. To relax I mean.”

            Cordelia’s eyebrows raised in a suspicious look. “How?”

 

            *****

 

            “Do I not teach you any social skills in the next two and half years?” Cordelia asked as she approached Angel from behind.

            He cracked a rare smile and turned to face her. “I can’t say you haven’t tried.”

            Cordelia’s heart warmed at Angel’s smile and she returned it with a small but brilliant one. “I’m sorry that we didn’t get to talk more this morning. There are so many things I want to know, about the future, and you.”

            “You wouldn’t remember anyway.”

            “I don’t know. I mean, Giles says none of us will remember any of this, but somehow that just doesn’t seem right. I’ve learned so much these last couple of days, about myself and what I want out of life.  I just don’t think it’s possible to forget, not all of it anyway, especially not you.”

            Angel shifted under Cordelia’s optimistic and sure gaze. She was so excepting now of what her future might bring and of him and who she thought he was. Even if it were possible for her to remember, he wondered how that look in her eye might change when she realized the pain and disappointments she would suffer time and again, most of it caused by or because of him. He looked down, unable to match the hopefulness in her eyes. “What’s this?” he asked, noticing the garment in Cordelia’s hands.

            “Oh, it’s a raincoat. Wesley let me borrow it.”

            “You’re not wearing it,” he answered very sharply. He had just finished congratulated himself earlier on his ability to resist killing Wesley all day and he had barely laughed when the paramedics had wheeled him by with a few bumps and bruises. But if Cordelia put that coat on, mingling her intoxicating scent with that of another man, a man that just yesterday had kissed her, he couldn’t be sure that his congratulations might not turn into years of dark guilt and painful brooding. “Here,” he began to take off his leather coat.  “Take mine. You can wear it because your NOT putting THAT on.”

            “Put your jacket back on Angel,” she placed a reassuring hand on his chest. “I’m not going to wear Wesley‘s coat.”

            “Well, good,” Angel was caught by surprise, Cordy never did what he said. He was shocked, and a little scared.

            “You are,” she handed the thick hooded raincoat to Angel.

            “What? Why?”

            “Weren’t you listening to Giles when he was explaining about the spell?”

            No. He had grabbed the incantation and the ingredients and spent the rest of the morning concentrating on Cordelia’s every move.

            “Remember? He said that he could only be sure about the when, not the where.”

            “So?”

            “So, you may be sheltered under a total eclipse here buddy, but I don’t think you’ll have that luxury there. Who knows where you’ll end up? I can’t have my … you know …burning up on the sunny streets of ..where are we living now anyway?”

            “L.A.,” Angel answered as he let Cordelia help him put on the coat.

            “Hmm. I always thought I’d go to New York. Ya know, fashion capital of the U.S.. That’s where I had been planning on going anyway.”

            “Well, I’m grateful for whatever changes your mind,” he confessed softly as he stood before her now, looking like a complete idiot in the oversized but way too short London Fog.

            Cordelia struggled not to laugh as she tried to pull down the sleeves over Angel’s large hands. “Well, you’ll just have to put them in the pockets,” she reasoned, letting go of the material.  Then, she leaned up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheek pressing tightly against his. Touching her lips to a spot of bare skin just in front of his ear, she gave him a chaste but loving kiss and then backed away. “Now, hurry up and be safe,” she said as she turned and started walking down the sidewalk. “I’ll meet you there,” she added in a whisper, knowing that Angel could hear her even as she turned the corner.

            Angel smiled and dug into his pocket for the ingredients and the spell.

 

            *****

 

            “It’s an ancient exercise. People call it Tai Chi now. Of course when I learned it, it was called something else,” he remembered.

            “You know Tai Chi?” she questioned doubtfully.

            “You don’t believe me?”

            “It’s just that I’ve never seen Angel, I mean you do that before.”

            “Probably because I usually do it alone. Some people think it’s a little eccentric but it helps me focus and clear my mind. Come here and I’ll show you some simple moves.”

            Cordelia paused for a moment, noticing how her heart skipped a beat hearing the words ‘show you some moves’ come out of Angel’s mouth in such smooth and almost sexy manner. She laughed at herself, knowing that it was impossible for this Angel to be flirting with her. He was teaching her the basics of Tai Chi after all, not the Kama Sutra. Oh great, that was a good image. Cordelia, determined to act as if the situation was definitely not flustering her, walked toward Angel, stood beside him and faced the same direction he was. She was actually kind of relieved that at least he had decided to help in a ‘non-touching’ capacity.

            “Now just raise your arms, no not that fast, look at me, very slowly and remember to breath. It’s all about breathing.”

            “This coming from a man who doesn’t.”

            “Shh. Concentrate.”

            Cordelia followed his lead. Mimicking every motion. She began to relax as her moves became as precise and fluid as Angel’s. She glanced at him, matching every graceful sweep. Angel moved his right arm and Cordelia followed. Angel brought his left arm back and Cordelia’s fell in synch. He turned to his right and so did she.  This had been a wonderful idea. She was already feeling the tension drain from her body. No longer able to see Angel from her position, she began to improvise. She stretched her arms above her head, reminiscent of a ballet move she had learned as a child, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her calming heart rate and smooth breathing both jolted into high gear at the feel of Angel’s tender touch and guiding hands from behind. “What are you doing?” she asked but didn’t move away.

            “It’s not a dance move Cordy. It’s more like this,” he gently laid his hands on top of hers and moved them back in front of her. As he guided her from behind, he whispered his instructions in her ear.  “You have to really feel the air around you, use it for resistance.”

            Cordy tried to relax again. She tried not to concentrate on the smell of his shirt or the way his soft words seemed to vibrate on the back of her ear. She tried to talk some sense into her overactive brain. ‘He’s just trying to help. He’s training me, just like Angel does. Well, not quite like Angel does.’ God this was getting confusing. She breathed deeply. It was no use. She couldn’t relax. He was making it way too hard for that. If she didn’t know him so well, she might have thought that he was using this as a come-on. But the Angel she knew would never be so cheesy as to use this as an excuse to seduce her. The Angel she knew was much too…the Angel she KNEW … wait a minute.

 

            *****

 

            Angel never thought that he would miss the sewers of L.A., but the usually pungent odor smelled like sweet home as he ran east toward the Hypernion. He had done what Cordelia had asked, or ordered, by wearing the raincoat that now flapped fiercely behind his body as he sped through the tunnels underneath the city streets, never stopping to shed the forgotten an unneeded garment. He spied a familiar bend ahead of him. One more minute. The thought of that filled him with a happiness that he would have feared before his soul had been bound.

 

            *****

 

            Over the course of Cordelia’s short life she had been hit on and flirted with by just about every type and breed of guy that walked the earth. It had gotten to the point where she could identify each and every line and move that men tried on her now. Except this time.  This time she had been fooled, almost. Well, if he thought she was going to just stand here with his arms wrapped around her and his words tickling her ear, sending chills through her body, he had another thing coming. She was going to tell him just what an idiot he was for using training as a way to cop a feel. She was going to let him know that his future self would never stoop to such an immature and asinine level to gain her attention. She was going to turn around and punch him in the nose and call him some kind of witty adjective. Well, that’s what she had planned on until she looked up and saw the dirty figure leaning against the wall by the sewer’s entrance, his arms crossed and an angry look on his face.

            “Please, don’t let me interrupt,” Angel said, sending a deadly stare to his cleaner mirror image.

 

            *****

 

            Part Fourteen

          

 Angel stood in the entrance of the sewer, shocked into his silent stance by the image of himself touching and caressing Cordy’s hands and arms as he stood behind her, watching the paths gently drawn by his fingers on her golden skin. It was his fantasy come to life, what he had never had the courage to act on the dozens of times he’d been in this very basement training her to defend herself. He marveled at the exactness of it, looked at it as if he was in one of the many dreams that made his sleep restless and his ..manhood …known and quite uncomfortable. It was so precise, identical to the picture in his mind. It was the seduction. It was foreplay before the passion. And for a moment it was him, at least that is the trick his mind and heart allowed him to play on himself. Until she looked at him, breaking the spell. Her eyes were full of shock and disbelief, convincing him that this wasn’t the beginning of some wet dream about Cordelia, and the arms that encircled her, the hands that teased at her skin with feather soft caresses disguised as wise instructions weren’t objects created in his dream world. They were real, and not his. His anger began to rise at his double for touching her, acting as if he had earned the right, and at Cordelia for letting it happen. What was she thinking?

            “Angel?” she continued to stare skeptically, as if the sight of him standing there couldn’t be trusted as reality.

            His twin simply lowered his hands to his sides and looked at Angel as if he was the devil himself, come to escort him personally back to hell.

            A terrible thought crossed Angel’s mind. When he had arrived in Sunnydale, no one knew that he wasn’t his past self. He had had to make himself known to them, tell them his unbelievable story in order for them to realize the truth. If he hadn’t, they may have never known. Did Cordy know? Did she believe that it was Angel who had draped his arms so seductively over hers or did she knowingly let a stranger, a version of himself unknown to her, touch her in a seemingly innocent yet painfully intimate way. He couldn’t move for fear of his own actions if the latter was true. He waited for her cue, for some clue that would answer his questions and either give his mind relief or his demon permission.

            “Angel,” this time there was no skepticism, no questioning tone, just his name on her lips, spoken as if it were an answer to a troubling problem plaguing her heart and mind.

 

            *****

 

            “Yo man, what was that?”

            “It sounded like a scream.”

            “It sounded like Cordy,” Fred finished as the three friends rushed to the basement stairs.

            Each stopped one after another on the top three steps leading down, frozen by the scene below.

            Fred’s eyes darted around the room, “Oh my gosh.”

            “He found a way back,” Wesley marveled in awe.

            “Yeah, but now we got two of ‘em on our hands,” Gunn reasoned. “You gonna break this up or should I?” he turned to Wesley.

            Fred scrunched up her nose, “Which one’s which?”

            “Well,” Wesley chose to answer Fred’s question first. “I think it is safe to assume that our Angel is the dirty one who has seemingly been tackled to the ground by Cordy.”

            The three friends smiled simultaneously at each other and turned their attention back to the sight of a grinning Cordelia, peppering chaste and frantic kisses over Angel’s grimy and smudged face.

            Angel’s anger tried to battle its way back to the forefront of his being as the overwhelming feeling that his soul was experiencing at Cordelia’s reaction to his appearance took control. Damn good thing it was permanent now. He took her shoulders in his hands and pushed her back slightly. “Wait a minute,” he had to know. “You do know that’s not me, right?” he made a gesture with his head to the vampire who now skulked in the darkest shadow of the room, never taking his eyes off of Cordy.

            “Who, Mr. Grabbyhands over there. Well duh, yeah. I’ve been telling him he’s not you for three days now.” She beamed a smile that seemed to light up and warm the dark and dank room. “You’re back. How did you do it? What happened?”

            Angel opened his mouth but before he answered Cordelia stood up and offered him a hand as she continued to grin from ear to ear. “You know what,” she pre-empted his answer. “It doesn’t matter. You’re back,” she grinned and turned to the forgotten and sulking Sunnydale version of her happiness. “He’s back,” she reiterated, giving him the first smile that turned his stomach, making him ache to wipe it from her face.

 

            *****

 

            Wesley read Giles’ instructions over again, double checking the ingredients of the spell.

            “How’s it going?” a freshly showered Angel looked over Wesley’s shoulder, anxious to send the silent statue of himself back where he belonged.

            “I believe we have everything we need,” Wesley looked up at the room as if announcing his success. “Now, if you will just step over here,” he motioned to the early version of his friend. “We can send you back where you belong,” he finished with a courteous smile.

            The silent vampire couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “Wait a minute.“ Everyone was too happy, too happy that he was leaving, too happy to see him go. It hurt and enraged him that he had to leave this place. His home. What if he went back and messed things up?  Wesley had said he shouldn’t remember anything, but what if he did?  What if that memory caused him to do something differently? If he did, would he screw up this future that he longed to be a part of?

            He was torn between the hope of remembering every moment spent with Cordy and the knowledge that not remembering would ensure that she would have a place in his life, and more importantly, that he would have a place in hers. That is if his future self would ever suck up the fear and tell this beautiful woman how he felt, how they both felt. He crossed the room and approached Angel. “I need to talk to you before I go.” It was more of an order than a request.

            Angel looked toward Cordelia. She glanced at Sunnydale Angel, who was now walking into the inner office and looked back at Angel, giving him a reassuring nod. Angel reluctantly followed his past self into the office and shut the door.

            He watched as his younger self reach for the shade on the glass window that faced the lobby. “Leave it up,” he said in a cold tone.  “As sort of an insurance,” he explained to himself.

            His younger self shook his head in understanding as he stepped back toward the middle of the room and looked out at Cordy staring in.  “Insuring we won’t kill each other as long as Cordelia can see us?”

            Angel, keeping his steely stare, nodded.

            “You think that would stop me?” the younger version asked.

            “I know it’s the only thing stopping me.”

            Both vampires stared as if daring the other to speak first, to say the wrong thing or make the slightest move.

            The older finally broke the silence. “Tai Chi?”

            “Worked on Buffy when she refused to touch me.”

            “Cordelia’s not Buffy,” Angel reproached.

            “You’re jealous?”

 

            “…”

 

            “Of me?”

            Angel gave his naïve image a cold stare.

            “But I’m you.”

            “Not yet you’re not. You’ve got a lot to learn before you can be me.”

            The younger Angel looked at his older self with fear and resignation. “You’re right. I don’t know how to be this. I have no idea how to hold on to something that I’ve never had, never deserved.”

            Angel gave an indignant chuckle. “You think I deserve all of this?  I’m probably less worthy of this life than you are right now. I’ve hurt every one of those people out there more times than I want to admit, emotionally and physically. I’m not some righteous warrior who’s finally getting his due. I’m just a little wiser. I know what I do and don’t want anymore and I’ll do anything it takes to get and keep the things I do. Anything. Does that sound like some kind of moral do-gooder to you?”

            “Cordelia seems to think…”

            “Cordy thinks I’m some kind of champion, a hero,” he laughed to himself. “Truth is, she’s the hero. She’s saved me from myself. I’m here because she believes in me, sees something in me that I’m still not quite aware of yet. She was my friend before I knew how to be one to her. Cordy’s friendship helped me learn to love my son and the love I feel for her …” Angel paused, he’d never said it, not aloud. “The love I feel for Cordy secured my soul.”

            Angel’s counterpart looked at him with disbelief. “You’re soul is permanent?”

            Angel nodded.

            “For how long? When does it happen?”

            “Last year. It was… a …” he stammered.

            “Dark time,” the younger said with understanding. “You’ve had a permanent soul for this long and you still haven’t told her how you feel, how we feel about her? You are a dumbass.”

            “What?”

            “How the hell am I supposed to go back and trust you? You said you knew what you wanted now, that you’d do anything to get and keep it, but that’s bullshit. You’re afraid.”

            “It’s not that simple.”

            “Yes, it really is. She loves you, asshole. If you don’t tell her soon, let her know how you feel, some jerk off’s gonna come along and steal her away from you.”

            “So you think I should tell her?”

            The Sunnydale resident stood and looked at his future self with disgust, “Don’t fuck this up for me,” he half pleaded and half threatened.

            “This isn’t your life.”

            “No, but it will be,” he said as he abruptly ended their conversation by opening the office door. “I’m ready,” he directed toward Wesley. He was too furious to continue trying to talk some sense into his future self. The prospect of having a permanent soul filled him with such hope, but the fact that he would be so stupid as to have wasted a year with the knowledge that he was free to be happy, to love Cordelia, made him boil with anger at himself. He walked to Cordelia, uncaring now of what his older self might think or do. He looked at her smile. It wasn’t big and bright anymore. Not for him. “I want you to know something before I go.”

            Cordelia’s smile faded at his serious stare and he leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear that even Angel couldn’t hear. He backed away and turned with a smug grin and stepped to the spot of the room indicated by Wesley.

            Oh shit. What had he told her? Did she know about the soul? Angel looked at the smug grin on the face of the now disappearing vampire.  Fear and anger consumed him. He was supposed to be the one to tell Cordy that his soul was permanent. He’d been practicing his speech over and over in his mind. For the last eleven months, six days, thirteen hours. God, he WAS a dumbass. He looked at Cordelia’s confused stare. He was going to have to clean up this mess fast, before that confused look turned into one of hurt at his not telling her sooner. That was it, the answer was clear. He’d come clean, tell her everything. Immediately.

            Angel advanced toward Cordelia in long, purposeful strides. He grabbed her by the hand and headed for the stairs.

            “Angel?” Wesley asked after his friend.

            “We’ll be back,” he answered over his shoulder, leading a stunned Cordelia to his suite upstairs.

 

            *****

 

            Angel stood in the middle of the now abandoned parking lot. The ambulances and fire trucks had gone long ago and he looked at the keys in his hand. Chicago had seemed like such a great idea three days ago. Although he had been there during the depression, he’d always felt a fondness for the town. Now he just couldn’t see himself there. It didn’t feel right some how.

            He tried to shake a nagging feeling as he opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. Los Angeles? He had lived there too, he had lived a lot of places, but Los Angeles had been one of the worst.  The sound of the ignition echoed in the empty lot as Angel tried to understand why every part of him felt an urge, a desire, to be in a town he swore he’d never return to again. It was as if it called to him, promising him something that he couldn’t quite define but knew that he’d been searching for. Home.

            He put his foot on the brake, placed the car in gear and headed for L.A.

 

            *****

 

            Cordelia packed her last bag and looked at the bus ticket to New York for the fifth time. It had seemed like such a great idea three days ago. She tried to remind herself of all of the reasons she had wanted to go in the first place but now they all seemed wrong. For some reason she couldn’t get the ridiculous notion out of her head that L.A. was the place she should be. It made some sense actually.  New York might be the Fashion Capital but she would have a much better chance being discovered in L.A..

            Cordelia picked up her overstuffed suitcases and headed out of the empty house, wondering how much it was going to cost to change her ticket.

 

            *****

 

            The click of the lock on the bedroom door, echoed through the room.  Angel turned to face a still puzzled and mute Cordelia. Dumbass. He was sick of that word, sick of being weak and afraid when it came to Cordy. He wasn’t a dumbass, he was afraid, terrified even of what confessing everything might do to her, to their relationship. The truth was that he didn’t know if he would have ever told her, and even if he did, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It should have been over a romantic candlelit dinner or as they were both smiling and playing with Connor on the floor. Oh well, so much for romance and Kodak family moments. The truth was out and now it was time to explain, in his own words.

            He walked to her cautiously and lead her to the bed, seating her beside him. Taking a deep breath and cursing his impatient younger self for forcing him into this when he wasn’t ready, he began, “Cordy, what he told you down there…”

            Cordelia opened her mouth, finally it seemed she was ready to speak but Angel silenced her with the raise of his hand. He couldn’t risk the chance that her words might change what he had to say.

            “Please Cordy, just listen. What he told you down there, I should have told you months ago. It was just so hard, not knowing if you’d ever forgive me for firing all of you, for turning my back on my friends, my family. When I did get you back, I couldn’t tell you, not then. I had to concentrate on winning back your trust. My happiness, my soul, came second to that.”

            He looked at the confusion still plaguing her face and decided to start from the beginning.

            “Cordy,” he touched her hand and gently lifted it into his own.  “When you first showed up in L.A. you drove me insane. I thought that the reason I was drawn to you was because you were weak and alone. I thought because I knew you, because we had a connection, that it was my duty to protect you from the big bad world, be some kind of dark hero for you. I thought without me, you’d never survive.

            “When Vocah cursed you, and you laid so helpless and lost in the hospital, a revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. You weren’t the weak one, I was. I was the one who couldn’t survive without you. I swore that night that I would always keep you safe, no matter the price.

            “When Darla came, I was foolish enough to think that price was giving you up. Abandoning you for your own good.”

            For the first time the confusion was wiped from Cordelia’s face, replaced by hurt and anger.

            He took a calming breath and continued, “When I finally pushed hard enough, knew that I had probably lost you for good, I snapped. It was one of the biggest of a long list of mistakes in my existence.  When Darla came to me,” he looked away from her, unable to withstand the judgment and disappointment he knew were in her eyes. “I welcomed her, not for what she wanted, but for what I wanted, death.  She was my coward’s way out of a world that didn’t want me, a world that included you.

            “When it was…over, I couldn’t understand what had went wrong. I was still here and Angelus was…gone. I didn’t really understand how or why it happened, but I just knew. I went to see Lorne and he read me and told me that what I was feeling was right in a sense. He said that Angelus was still there, that as long as I was a vampire he would be, but that I controlled him now. Then he started talking about rainbows and red shoes, and how I had had the power all along.  I really didn’t get that part.”

            “You’re soul is safe, it’s permanent?”

            “Isn’t that what…I saw him lean over and whisper it to you downstairs. That’s what he told you. Right?”

            “You’re weirdo body double bent forward and kissed me on the ear. It shocked me so much I couldn’t even tear into him with some witty insult.”

            “That son-of-a … he kissed you?”

            “You’re soul is permanent,” she said with an accusing tone as if he’d just committed some horrible crime.

            “You’re not happy,” he said, his heart beginning to sink. Maybe she didn’t think he deserved it after the things he had done. She was right if she thought that, he didn’t.

            Cordelia stood and began to pace in front of him as if trying to think of a proper punishment for such an offense. Angel’s soul was bound, permanent. He could be happy. He was free. She should be happy for him. But she wasn’t. She tried to be, she searched for a feeling, any feeling that could be close to happiness or relief, but all she could find was fear. Angel was free, free to be happy, free to love, and free to leave. That’s what scared her the most. What if that is what he wanted? To leave. Sadness joined fear at the thought of that possibility. He had just been in Sunnydale, with a permanent soul. With Buffy. But he had known about his soul for much longer than that. Maybe this was where he wanted to be. She could imagine Buffy’s response at hearing the news of his soul. “We can be happy now Angel. Stay with me, where you belong,” she mocked the Slayer in her mind. She had probably cried and pouted and used every weakness she knew of his to convince him to stay, whether he wanted to or not. Well, no matter how much Cordy’s heart broke at the possibility of Angel leaving, no matter how much she loved him and wanted him to stay, she wouldn’t, couldn’t play those games with him. She loved him, but if leaving was what would make him happy, he had to know that he was free.

            “You should have told us a long time ago, Angel. I mean, this changes everything.”

            And there it was. His fear sprouted wings and flew directly in his face. He watched her as she paced, obviously bothered by what he had said. She had said it changed everything. That was supposed to be a good thing. It was supposed to change their relationship, take it to a new level, changing a beautiful friendship into a passionate, all consuming love. Change had been a good thing, an excellent description for what was to come. Until Cordy had said it with disappointment in her voice. Angel put his face in his hands and rubbed at it roughly, as if trying to wash away the multitude of emotions that bombarded him. “I know Cordy, it does. I’m sorry.”

            She closed her eyes and continued to pace, “It’s alright,” she soothed. God help her, he was breaking her heart into a million pieces and she still couldn’t stand the sight of him in pain. After all, he had confessed to her how much their friendship had meant, how he couldn’t get along without her. At least she still had that.  That was something. Her mind began to work overtime as she brainstormed, trying to find a way that Angel could be happy without turning his back on the mission. “Well, Sunnydale’s only a little over two hours away. We could all visit and I could call you for the really nasty visions.”

            Angel shot up from the bed, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her monotonous pacing to halt. It was worse than he thought.  He’d been afraid that she might not be happy, might not return his feelings, but he never expected her to run away, especially to Sunnydale. “You are not going to Sunnydale.”

            “I know that,” he didn’t have to rub it in. “But you are, and that

            means…”

            “No, I’m not Cordy.”

            “You’re free Angel,” damn it, she tried not to let the tears in her eyes show.

            That’s the change she meant, that was what disappointed her. Angel’s fear ebbed away as waves of hope began to crash into his heart.  “Yes, I’m free,” he said smoothly in a whisper just inches from her face. “Free to be happy, to dare to relish the thought of being a father to Connor, and to love you. You Cordy. I love you.”

            Cordy stared blankly back at him.

            “Cordelia, I just told you that I’m in love with you.”

            She nodded her head dumbly.

            “Please say something, anything. ‘I hate you, I love you, let’s just be friends’ anything, just talk to me please.”

            He loved her. He loved HER. Cordelia smiled and she flung her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear, “I love you, Angel. I don’t know when it happened, when I actually fell. I just know that when you were gone, there was this possibility hanging over us that you might never come back. That’s when I realized it. That’s when I knew,” she pushed back, the smile still on her face and her eyes glistening.

            Angel brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek and looked at her, really looked at her.

            Cordelia swallowed, Angel’s eyes were so full. They expressed joy, love, want, need, and desire all in one breathtaking dark stare. She unconsciously licked her lips, her mouth aching for his to cover it, consume it until she struggled for air.

            She loved him. She had said it and he had heard it. It wasn’t some sweet fantasy or hot sweaty dream. She loved him and now he truly was free. He leaned down and captured her mouth, devouring it with a desperate and passionate kiss. His lips left hers and his arms tightened around her. He looked back in her eyes. “You really love me,” it wasn’t a question, more of a bewildering and unbelievable statement of bizarre fact.

            She brushed her knuckles gently against his cheek and then touched the palm of her hand to the side of his face. “Completely,” she breathed.

            Angel closed his eyes and kissed the palm of her hand. “God, Cordy,” his eyes were still closed. “You’re gonna have to take the lead here. I don’t know if I can take this nice and slow.” He meant it, his self control was waning. Her admission of love had been his undoing. She had set him free and like a caged bird or a gated race horse, he was ready to bolt, to speed toward that freedom as fast as he could.

            Cordelia cupped his face again, brushing her thumb across his cheek.  “I don’t think nice or slow defines either of us very well,” she answered, aroused by the bare feelings he was laying open to her.

            Angel’s mouth instantly covered hers again. Cordelia’s lips parted, welcoming every caress and taste. She shivered as his hands glided down her sides, his fingers gently wrapping themselves in the hem of her t-shirt. She felt his featherlike touches on her skin as the cotton garment was pushed slowly upward and she instinctively raised her arms, breaking the kiss only for the second it took to pull the shirt over her head.

            God she was so beautiful. She stood there in front of him, old sweat pants, a sports bra and a messy pony tail and to Angel she was the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen. He sunk slowly to his knees and pulled the tie of her sweats loose and sliding them over her hips, prompted her to step free from them.

            She waited for him to stand again, but he leaned forward and dropped a gentle kiss on her belly, her hip, and let his hands slide slowly and lovingly down the length of her thigh. “You scared me,” he whispered.

            She placed a hand on his head and began to comb her fingers through his messy hair, trying to sooth any doubts he could possibly have.

            “When you started talking about Sunnydale I thought…I thought you were running away, I thought you were going to run and hide from me.” He buried his face against the skin that covered her taut stomach and breathed in her scent. Hooking his thumbs inside of the material of her panties he robbed her of them much quicker than the sweats. His eyes drunk her in as he raised to his feet and circled his arms around her, his hands craftily unhooking the last little scrap of modesty she had left. After tossing the bra aside, he turned and looked at the masterpiece that stood before him.

            Cordelia studied his predatory gaze as it roved over her body.  Suddenly feeling the bareness of her heart and the nakedness of her body, she tried to cover herself with her arms.

            “No,” Angel finally touched her, guiding her arms away from her body. “Never hide from me, Cordy,” he gave his gentle order and looked back into her eyes. “I want to know you, all of you. Besides, haven’t we both been hiding from each other long enough?”

            Cordelia tried to relax her arms at her sides as she bit her lip and blushed darkly. When she felt that she could move her hands steadily, she lifted them to Angel’s shirt and began to unbutton it as gracefully as her nervousness would allow.

            Christ, she was going too slow. The way her delicate hands tickled the bottom of his neck as they slowly opened his top button was driving him crazy. He reached down and began undoing the rest from the bottom up, meeting her at button number two. She smiled at him and pushed the shirt from his shoulders and onto the floor.

            He really wanted to watch her as she undressed him, as her elegant hands unbuckled him, divesting him of anything that now stood as a barrier between her body and his. But his eagerness to have her, to make her call his name, to show her in anyway she would let him just how much he loved her, was just too strong to fight.

            Cordelia’s eyes widened at the speed of which Angel removed his boots and pants, his eyes never leaving hers in the second it took to discard them. She gave a small squeak as he swept her up in his arms and laid her on the bed. Cordy looked up at Angel, her Angel, hovering above her.

            Angel’s mind swarmed with all of his fantasies, some tenderly passionate, some not. He wanted them all, each fantasy, each dream right here and now. He stilled, hovering over her. What did she want? What would she allow? She was smiling again, not the brilliant megawatt smile that lit up the room and his life. It was a small, loving, knowing smile that said ’Yes’. It was permission. He lowered some of his weight onto her, his aching want pressing hard against her thigh. ‘Tenderly,’ he told himself. That is the way it would always start with her, tenderly and lovingly.

            Cordelia wrapped her strong slender arms around his neck and kissed him. Angel’s mouth left hers and began to explore her body with gentle precision. His tongue lashed out tenderly, tasting the curve of her neck, her shoulder, the tight pert peak of one breast, then the other. He buried his face in the valley between them, kissing and nipping his way back to her mouth.

            Her eyes closed and a soft sigh of pleasure escaped her lips when she felt his arousal touching her center, waiting to be invited in.  “I love you,” his voice was vulnerable and shaky, ragged with desperate longing. It was the secret pass word that opened her to him. He nudged himself inside of her, pushing himself deeper with each lazy, wonderful, agonizing stroke.

            Her heat scorched him. Their bodies rocked together, sighing and gasping with the encompassing pleasure of each gliding thrust. He had to close his eyes to keep his control as they both succumbed to a frantic, surging rhythm that caressed him, pushed him to the edge.

 

 

            Each time he had touched her that night, it had started out the same, slow and tender, eventually escalating into something desperate and primal, leaving them both spent but wanting and needing more. She had lost count of the number of times she had screamed his name, melting into a pool of trembling nerves. At some point each climatic orgasm had blended into one endless shuddering wave.

            Cordy tried to will herself to wake and stretched out her hand sleepily, searching for the missing vampire who had put her in such a state of exhaustion. Finding the spot beside her empty, she opened one eye, then another and propped herself up on one elbow.

            She smiled as she watched Angel slowly pacing the room wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and gently cradling his son in his strong arms. “When did he wake up?” she asked in a whisper.

            Angel walked to the side of the bed, “He didn’t. I just needed to hold him for a while. I missed him.”

            Cordelia smiled. “I think he missed you too. Why don’t you bring him to bed. We all need to get some sleep,” she scooted over and pulled back the edge of the covers. Angel laid Connor beside her and slid in after him. He watched his son’s cherub face, fixed in peaceful slumber. He looked at Cordy as she smiled at him again, whispering “I love you, Angel,” before slipping back to sleep. He stared at the two most important beings in his life. He laid his arm protectively over his son and caressed Cordelia’s face with his hand. How had he gotten so lucky?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                  When Good Spells Go Bad by Chelle [Read/Submit Reviews - 0] 

                    Chapters1. No chapter title. Completed fourteen part story.

 

 

 

 

 

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