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Whose Shanshu?	By : QueenB Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 3387 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Angel had tactfully withdrawn and left the redhead and one-eyed man alone with Cordelia. He had secretly hoped that Buffy herself would join them but she and the cheerleader had never been close. Besides, she probably hadn’t wanted to be near him.
He idly stroked Cordelia’s hair. He’d heard how fingernails and hair continued to grow even in a coma. It would be nice to see Cordelia’s hair long again and its natural brunette color. Privately, he’d thought the blonde streaks unattractive and wondered what had happened to her once keen sense of fashion and personal style. He made a mental note to tell the W&H people to trim her nails but to leave the hair alone except for washing.
He wondered what Cordelia would make of all of these new changes. Would she have warned him about the apocalypse in Sunnydale if she had been conscious--and not evil? Maybe she would have given them all a good talking-to about this move to Wolfram & Hart.
“Cordy, they say hearing is the last sense to go in comatose people. I’m hoping that’s true.” He sat by the bed and clasped her hand.
“Things have really gotten mixed up with us. They’re no longer so black and white--not that they ever were. Remember when Lindsey came and helped us? Now Wolfram & Hart is working for us. Gotta think they’ve got something up their collective sleeves. But it’s still a pretty great offer.
“But we’ve all lost so much. Gunn and Fred are pretty much split. Killing a man changed things between them. I could have told them that but neither of them asked. They just went off half-cocked and committed a murder. I get the feeling that if you had been there, you’d have talked them out of it.” Then again, Cordelia had raised no objections to his going after Holtz and killing him because he’d kidnapped Connor.
Connor. There was another sore point. Nobody remembered him. A casual mention of his name produced nothing but blank stares and incomprehension from his crew. By the odd affair that was magic, only Lilah, he and whatever dark sorcerer had conjured the new lifestyle for his son could recall him. That meant he couldn’t talk about Connor to anyone who mattered in his life.
He glanced down at the recumbent body of his seer. If Cordelia ever awoke, would she remember Connor? And what would she remember--the sweet little boy and teenager she knew? Would she remember screwing him and bearing his demonic get? How much would she recall of what the demon inhabiting her body had done in her name? Would she still be evil or the good woman he once knew?
Damn, Cordelia had suffered more than any of them and none of it was her doing. She’d been robbed of a normal existence by coming to work for him and had a whole year of life and her mind snatched from her through no fault nor choice of her. A . A cold rage at the unfairness of it all washed over him.
“Bye, Cordy. I’ll come see you again soon.”
“I thought I’d find you here.” The detested voice came from behind him and Angel went preternaturally still. “It’s touching to see you spending time with Sleeping Beauty here but I told you she’s being given the best of care. No need for you to worry yourself.” Lilah came closer, the heels from her expensive Prada shoes clicking on the cold floor. “I thought you might like to know your Slayer girl--”
She didn’t get any further. With lightning speed, Angel grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the nearest wall, her feet dangling inches off the floor. His eyes were wide and unblinking and flickering with yellow. He spoke in a level voice that was all the more terrifying for its eerie detachment.
“Lilah, you’ve got teams working on Cordelia. That means there’s absolutely no reason for you to be in here ever. You come in while I’m here or I find that you’ve so much as set foot in this room and I’ll rip you up into so many tiny pieces even Wolfram & Hart can’t put you back together again. Got it?”
The woman’s gaze was terrified and she nodded fractionally, at least as much as she could with his hand around her neck. Lilah may have been dead but that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid of non-existence. Her undead status, whatever it was, kept her out of the bowels of a hell that was surely waiting for her and she preferred it that way.
When he set her back on the floor (hmm, he’d actually seen a slight tear in the red line around her throat as if her head was parting from her shoulders), she straightened her clothes and smirked. “Well, now that the requisite display of testosterone is over, I guess you’ll want to know what your Buffy is up to.”
She was trying to manipulate him again. He could still read her emotions like a book; her being dead hadn’t changed that. The superior, smug smile didn’t fool him either. He knew just how scared she’d been a moment ago. He grabbed her by the arm and propelled her towards the door. “I wasn’t kidding, Lilah. Stay out of this room.” He shoved her out ungently and shut the door behind her.
She shrugged. “Fine. Your loss. I’ll just tell her you weren’t interested.” There lay a fine opportunity to sow discord between Angel and his Slayer. Perhaps in time she could actually have them working on opposite sides. The senior partners would be pleased if she could pull that off.
__________
The spell dissipated and Buffy and Giles swayed in the backlash of the powerful enchantment. She was the first to recover, winding her arm around his waist and easing him to the floor. “Willow! Dawn! Anybody! Giles needs help.” She looked up and did a double take as she stared at her surroundings. They weren’t in the hotel. The room was spacious and looked like an office. “Giles. I don’t think we’re in Kansas any more.”
Giles lay on the carpet with his eyes closed, his face an alarming clayey color. He spoke faintly, “What? Buffy, please. That journey was quite enervating and I’m not in the mood for humor.”
“Giles, we’re not at the hotel. I think our flying carpet ride took a left turn somewhere.”
He opened his eyes blearily and flinched from the bright light in the ceiling before glancing around the space. “Where…? Goodness, I recognize this place. This is one of the Wolfram & Hart offices.”
“Wolfram & Hart? I’ve had enough of those people for one day. Sheesh, they’re turning into one of those awful relatives that show up uninvited on your doorstep and just won’t leave!”
“Actually, since you keep making the visits, you’re the ‘awful relatives.’ But that’s okay; feel free to stay as long as you like.” The words were spoken by a kindly looking bespectacled man in a white coat who appeared from around a corner in the large office. He knelt beside Mr. Giles and began examining him in a brisk, professional mr. &r. “Are there any cuts, contusions, injuries of any sort? Were bones broken?”
Buffy bristled at his casual handling of Giles. “Excuse me, who are you and what gives you the right to play doctor with my Watcher?”
“I am a doctor--Dr. Pedersen. I’m one of the many Wolfram & Hart keep on call. Since they deal with…unusual clients, they’ve found it necessary to have highly trained medical personnel working on the premises around the clock.”
“One of the hazards of working with demons, I’m sure,” Buffy replied with a grim smile.
“You would know,” Dr. Pedersen returned smoothly. He examined Giles’s eyes with a small light, noting the responses of the pupils. “I understand you’ve had a stressful journey. Are there injuries?”
“No,” she conceded, never taking her eyes off the man for a moment. “The first--trip took a lot out of him and he must have been confused, otherwise we wouldn’t have wound up back here.”
“I wasn’t that confused, Buffy, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak about me as if I weren’t here.” Giles batted away the man’s hands in irritation and struggled to stand up. “I don’t think our landing in Wolfram & Hart was any kind of accident nor is this man’s timely appearance a coincidence.”
“You’re correct, Mr. Giles.” Lilah Morgan stood in the open doorway, her scarf carefully in place. Her altered state of being wasn’t something she preferred everybody to know. She was vain and the idea of being thought of as a “zombie lady” didn’t appeal. She was sure people among the lower staff were already trading jokes about her around the water cooler.
“Who are you?” This woman had barely spoken but Buffy disliked her already.
“Excuse me. Where are my manners? I’m Lilah Morgan.” The name didn’t produce a flicker of recognition in the blonde woman’s eyes and Lilah was stung. Hadn’t Angel thought her worthy enough to be mentioned? Still, the woman’s ignorance of her association with the souled vampire might prove useful.
Buffy ignored the extended hand and edged closer to Giles in an unconsciously protective gesture. “Nice to meet you. Mind telling us how we wound up in Legal Eagle Central instead of back at the hotel?”
“Entirely our doing, as Mr. Giles has surmised. We wanted to learn the results of your sojourn to Sri Lanka.” Inwardly Lilah was fuming. She’d hoped that Mr. Giles would make the trip to Sri Lanka alone. The urgency of the situation apparently hadn’t been enough to cause him to fly off alone in haste. Instead he had recruited his Slayer to accompany him.
“There’s always email. As you can see, Giles and me are kinda tired and not up for the chatty so why don’t we send you a letter from the road? Bye!” Buffy brushed past her, still supporting her Watcher.
“Don’t you even want to know how Angel is doing?” Lilah raised her voice slightly to Buffy’s back.
The Slayer’s reply was cool. “Not particularly.”
“Just as well, I suppose,” Lilah responded in a musing tone. “I went to tell him you might be in possible danger in Sri Lanka but he wasn’t interested. Too busy worrying over Cordelia Chase, I suppose.”
“Cordelia?” Buffy couldn’t help the wavering uncertainty in her voice.
“Um hm. The prom queen’s still dead to the world but it’s amazing the care he’s shown her. A fabulous room with a view, grooming, new flowers every day--he even takes time out to talk to her. Warms my heart to see a man showing that kind of devotion.” Lilah sighed as if the thought was just too touching.
Giles’s lips thinned. He could hear the insincerity in this woman’s voice and knew she was getting in a dig at his Slayer. He wasn’t sure what her game was but he intended to put a stop to it.
“I’m sure Angel will be glad to hear the news of Buffy’s arrival here. I certainly don’t think he’ll appreciate hearing that you kept such information from him.” He paused a moment to let the unspoken threat sink in. “And you’ll be pleased to know those two girls are safe. The demons have been dispatched.”
“Until the next bunch goes after them.” Lilah sat behind the desk and steepled her fingers. She wasn’t willing to concede defeat just yet. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring the girls with you. Those Slayers could use Angel’s protection as well as the skilled training from a proper Watcher such as yourself.”
“They are, alas, no longer Slayers,” Giles replied and was gratified to see something like shock and concern surface in the woman’s eyes before the professional shield lowered itself again.
“Not Slayers? What are you saying?”
“Consult your seers. Check your crystal balls or whatever you use to track Slayers. You will find none left in the world save those at the hotel. Good night to you, Ms. Morgan.” He inclined his head and swept from the room without sparing a glance at the now furious woman behind him.
Buffy waited until they were safely down the corridor before whispering to Giles. “Not that I don’t appreciate the kick in the ass you just gave her, Giles, but do you think that was smart letting her know there aren’t any more activated Slayers out there?”
“Undoubtedly, she would have discovered it soon enough on her own. You heard what she said about my bringing those two girls back here. That was the reason our trip was intercepted. I’m sure Wolfram & Hart would like nothing better than to sink their claws into young, naïve, impressionable girls and mold them in their own image. We have made that impossible for them. I just took the opportunity to rub her face in the bad news personally.”
She gaped at the Ripper-like glint in his green eyes and then giggled. “Giles, you are evil.”
“I have my moments,” was the dry response.
She chewed her lip as she considered Lilah’s other announcement. Angel hadn’t said anything about a relationship with Cordelia when he was in Sunnydale. Of course, he hadn’t been there long. All he did was give her the magical medallion and get a little huffy over Spike. Come to think of it, he’d taken the news of her involvement with Spike rather well--a little too well. Was that it? He was involved with Cordelia so he no longer cared about Buffy? The thought was painful and she was so depressed by it that this time she raised no objections as the limo was brought around again.
__________
She was uncharacteristically silent all the way back to the hotel. Giles was aware of her depression and the probable cause but he was no more willing to speak than she was. He merely wanted to sleep for the next two days. However, he struggled to provide some comfort to the despondent blond as they trudged into the hotel. “You shouldn’t listen to anything that woman says, Buffy, unless you take it with a very large grain of salt.”
“How about a salt lick?” she murmured with a smile. Then she sighed. Without looking at him, she said, “I don’t see that it’s important. We just came through an apocalypse. It makes ex-boyfriends seem not that big a dealie.”
Buffy pushed open the hotel doors and frowned. “I’ve been thinking. Now that this isn’t a public building or the headquarters of the Justice League, maybe we should start locking the front doors. We don’t want just anybody walking in here.”
“Why? As you said, we’re not going to be here for long so why should we bother?”
“I-I know. It’s just we’ve got Slayers under the roof. We don’t want to make it too much of the easy for demons to come strolling in.” She glanced warily around the lobby. There was no way she was ever going to think of this place as home. Having that law firm in the same city was almost as bad as living on the Hellmouth.
She looked back to see Giles leaning against the doorframe. His eyes were shut and he was breathing a little more heavily than she liked. “Giles?”
He heard the concern in her voice and opened his eyes to smile reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just take the elevator instead of the stairs. Should save some wear and tear on the old legs.”
“You’re not old, Giles. You’re just…a little worn around the edges. We all are.”
“A lovely euphemism, I’m sure.”
She watched the rounded back as he trudged away from her and wondered whether it would be such a bad thing for him to work at Wolfram & Hart.
They would probably give him a cushy desk job poring over old books. He’d love that. It would put him out of danger. The same would be true for Willow and Xander. They’re probably just turning down those deals because they don’t want to leave me.
She sat down on the bottom step of the grand staircase and decided to think. She was doing a lot of that lately. That was the great thing about slaying; it took your mind off things. After her resurrection, she had desperately tried to keep from thinking how badly her life sucked. Whenever things had gotten too heavy or she couldn’t bear to come back to the horror of daily toil that was home, she would sneak off to Spike’s for a quick one. God, that had been stupid. It would have been better to curl up with a good book.
She remembered times when she had gone to see Angel after slaying. The mansion might have a fire lit in the fireplace and he would gather her close and read to her from one of his many books. Occasionally she would have him read one of the foreign ones. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t understand the language; she just loved to hear his low, husky voice.
Buffy smiled to herself as she recalled teasing him. “Fire? In sunny California? Yeah, that’s so good for warming you up against the blistering heat.”
“I can’t really feel the heat or cold, Buffy. I just like the way it looks. And the way you look by firelight.”
“Aren’t you sweet. I’m just the luckiest girl in the world to have such a mushy boyfriend.”
He growled and kissed her hard until she couldn’t breathe and her head swam. She pulled back, her face flushed from more than the fire. “Does that feel mushy to you?”
She did her best to appear questioning as if the effort had left her unimpressed. “Um. I’m not sure. You’ll have to kiss me again.”
He had laid the book aside and repeated the kiss, this time drawing it out and nipping lightly at her upper and lower lips. She couldn’t really recall if there had been any more reading that night.
“Buffy? Oooooh, Buffy? Are you in there? What happened on the overseas trip? Did you bring back any souvenirs?” Buffy blinked and was abruptly back in the hotel, staring into her sister’s inquisitive gaze. “That’s better. Are you okay? You and Giles didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“Huh? No, no, we were fine although Giles got a little woozy from the traveling. But we were shanghaied on the return trip by those Wolfram & Hart bastards.” She frowned at the memory and then sniffed. Dawn smelled funny. She smelled like--chlorine? “Dawn? Why do you smell like pool water?”
The girl jerked up and looked guilty. “What? What are you talking about?”
Buffy eyed her sister narrowly. Now that she concentrated the smell was really strong, impossible to miss. “You were in the pool, weren’t you? How did you get it clean?”
“I wasn’t in the pool. I just took a shower. Your brain must be fried from the trip.” Dawn flipped her hair and Buffy flinched from the droplets.
“Nice try. I think I’ll look at the pool myself and see if all the green muck is still there.”
“No! I mean, it’s late and you didn’t tell me how your trip went. What did you and Giles do?”
“I’ll tell you…after I’ve gotten a look at that pool.”
Dawn threw up her hands. “Okay, okay, fine! After you left, I called Angel and he sent somebody to clean up the water. But you should have seen the others! They were so happy. They acted just like kids. I-I think they’re all gonna miss this place when we go.”
“Miss it? They’ve only been here for two days!” Buffy pulled herself up short and ran her hands through her hair. Dawn was right. The girls needed to relax. She needed to relax. “You know what? I think I could use a dip, too.”
“Really?” Sometimes Dawn thought she’d never understand her wacky older sister. “Fine. Go. Come out when you see you’re getting pruny.”
“Yes, Mom,” Buffy replied in mocking tones. She pelted upstairs to grab a towel from her room. It was a good thing there were a few clean ones left.
She dove under the surface again and again. She didn’t play or frolic around in the water. Somehow she felt as if her frolicking days were over. But it was soothing like those meditation exercises Giles had taught her. In the still, soundless medium of the clean waters, it was as if the rest of the world vanished and time ceased to have any meaning.
“Forever. Isn’t that the whole point?” The whispered words seemed to drift past her ears like a secret caress and her eyes widened. She shot to the top of the pool and scanned the entire area, almost expecting to see Angel kneeling by the poolside. But the place was empty except for herself.
In spite of this reassurance, she shivered. Maybe the hotel was haunted. It certainly had the look. Like life isn’t spooky enough. Suddenly the swim was no longer as relaxing as it had been. Drying herself off quickly, she put on her clothes and exited the pool area. She made a mental note to have it drained when they left.
Buffy tossed and turned restlessly in the bed. She couldn’t get comfortable but she was too weary to get up. Every time she tried to drift off, she would hear a voice, almost familiar, and sense a presence as if someone were in the room with her. Finally, she grew too tired to keep her eyes open and fell into an exhausted slumber.
There were cool hands drifting over her body, the thumbs circling her nipples until they stood upright, aching and sensitive. She moaned, a low deep animal sound, and arched her back into the hands cupping her breasts. She panted softly, not opening her eyes yet. Who was this? Was it…Spike? Strange--the name had almost no meaning and dropped into the dark pit of her mind, leaving no echo.
“Leannen.” She gasped and her eyes flew open meeting the dark gaze of the man above her. The lips pulled back in the familiar gentle smile and she drew her hands over his lean hips. He was completely naked, his body covering every inch of her own.
“Angel. It’s you.” She knew she should be asking questions but couldn’t bring herself to do so. There was an incredible feeling of peace in the depths of her soul. She lacked even the fear of disturbing it.
“Beloved. I’ve missed you. I dream about you…and our forgotten day.”
“Our forgotten…?” What was he talking about? She could remember every moment she’d ever spent with her Angel--even their last moments together in vanished Sunnydale.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you all about it. Someday. If you ask.” Before she could question him further, he pressed his cool lips over hers. She forgot all her questions and parted her lips, inviting entry.
His tongue flickered in the open space, teasing in its rapid explorations of her teeth and the palate behind them. Her warm tongue came out to play, tangling and playing with his. His lips withdrew to the point of her jaw, winding along the jawline over and down her chin. He planted a trail of sweet kisses along her throat, darting his tongue into the little hollow at the base of it until she gasped repeatedly, clutching the short hairs on his head, and held him tightly.
She whimpered as his fingers left her breasts to clasp her shoulders. He drew her close and crushed her against his larger frame. He returned to her mouth and she reveled in the deep kisses, his tongue probing and exploring every inch of her mouth. It seemed memory hadn’t been as thorough as she thought because she had forgotten how good this was, how wonderful it felt.
Her hands swept over his shoulders; she could feel the faint trace of his tattoo under her fingers. The muscles under broad shoulders rippled under her caresses even as she continued her explorations down to his waist and gripped him, her fingers sinking into his flesh.
The silken skin, the constant whispered words of love filling the air…there was a brief flicker of light and she opened her eyes in confusion to see lightning going past the drawn curtains. Was it raining outside? She could hear the faint patter of water against the windows, a murmuring backdrop to Angel’s voice.
He moved back from her slightly and she mourned the loss of his skin against hers. A large hand swept down her neck in erratic circles over her chest to rest on her stomach. “He should have been yours,” he said and she could hear the intense melancholy in his voice.
“Who? Angel, I don’t understand,” Buffy replied. She wanted more than anything to remove that sadness from his face; at the same time she was baffled because she knew she wasn’t the source of it. Something else was troubling her Angel and she longed to penetrate the mystery.
He looked at her for a long time, his hand pressing against the flesh of her belly. “Connor. Paradise lost,” he whispered.
“Connor? Who’s Connor? Angel, what’s going on? What are you trying to tell me?” He was leaving her again. She knew it and the certainty filled her with sorrow.
“Buffy, I love you. Forever. Buffy, remember…” He pulled back from her and she cried out in despair as she sat up, futilely reaching for him. His image wavered like smoke and her hands drifted through him as he disappeared.
__________
“Buffy? Buffy, wake up!” Dawn was sitting on the edge of her bed and shaking her sister lightly. Buffy blinked and jerked up, casting her eyes wildly around the room. She sagged in disappointment back onto the bed and met the gaze of her confused sister. “Buffy, are you okay? You looked like you were having a nightmare.”
“No, no nightmare.” At least not the beginning of it. Wow! Naked Angel. When’s the last time I dreamed about that?
“There’s another surprise waiting downstairs. Angel had them sent early this morning. I had a long talk with him when I was discussing icky pool scum and I guess he thought this would be a great surprise. The girls are tearing through them and you’d better come if you want your share.” She bounced off the bed and hurried out, a small bag Buffy just noticed dangling from her hands.
“Share of what? What’s going on?” Buffy dressed as well as she could, depressed at putting on the same clothes three days in a row. They were definitely going to need new… She headed towards the stairs and halted, shocked, at the spectacle that greeted her.
There were bags of clothes all over the lobby. Twenty-odd excited teenagers were sorting through them, holding up different items and snatching articles of clothing from each other. “I want that one,” Molly demanded as she pointed to a pink hat one of the others held.
“I hate to tell you this, Moll. But you do not look pretty in pink,” Rona snorted. Her newfound Slayer healing had kicked in and she had fully recovered from her injuries. She was sizing up a black jumper, peering at it critically. Rona’s choices in clothes tended to be on the dumpy, practical side and this one apparently met with her approval since she set it aside and watched like a hawk for any who would dare take it from her.
Andrew held up a Star Trek T-shirt and squealed with delight. “Oh my god! It’s got Captain Archer on it! This is so great!” He scrabbled through another bag and called out, “Does anybody see something with Babylon 5 or Star Wars logos on ‘em?”
“B. Check it out. Is this me or what?”
Buffy looked up to see Faith strutting before her in a tight new pair of leather pants. They were paired with a sporty midriff-baring low-cut top of fire engine red. The whole ensemble was completed with a leather jacket with zippers going up the arms.
“Gotta hand it to the man. He knows what a woman likes,” she purred as she ran her fingers up the leather arms. “Mmmmm. Feels like butter. Wanna touch it?” She held out her arm teasingly and Buffy’s answering smile held more than a trace of irritation.
“It’s great, Faith. If there’s anything Angel knows, it’s leather.” The dark-haired woman smirked at her and then turned to leave. She was halfway to the Hyperion lobby doors before Buffy called out to her. “Hey, where are you going? Did you forget you’re still wanted, Faith? What if the cops see you?”
“Damn. Almost forgot about that.” Except for the slaying last night, Faith hadn’t really stepped forth past the Hyperion doors.
Willow piped up, “Ooh, I can make you a glamour. It’ll make you look like somebody else. The only snag is I have to stay close by you otherwise it’ll fade out.”
“No shit? Can you make me look like Lucy Lawless?” Faith grinned.
Dawn pirouetted in a golden brown skirt that flared out from her legs before coming to rest. “I don’t think looking like a celebrity is a good idea in Los Angeles, Faith. You’ll have people stopping you on the streets every ten seconds.”
“Good thinking, Dawnie. You’ve got a smart sister there, Buff.”
Buffy didn’t let the compliment to her sibling deter her from her question. “You still didn’t tell me where you were going. I want to be able to get in touch with you if there’s trouble.”
“I’m gonna drop in on Robin, see how he’s making out. Then I figure I’d nip up to that law firm and thank Angel personally…for the clothes. Catch ya later, B!”
Again there was that irrational sense of possessiveness. Buffy may have been dreaming about Angel but Faith seemed closer to him than she was. The problem was what was she going to do about it?
Ducking the question, she saw a blue dress and a matching pair of shoes she was sure were her size. “Can I see those?”
__________
Okay, maybe the tinted windows meant he could move about freely in the capacious building. But Angel still felt restrained. There really wasn’t much for him to do here. He wasn’t meant for the executive lifestyle. Perhaps he could handle clients who wanted more aggressive help such as he used to provide from the Hyperion. Otherwise, what exactly would he be doing at Wolfram & Hart?
This did not bode well for his future here. He’d been here less than two days and already he was getting itchy feet.
However, the others very much wanted to stay. Gunn was excited at the idea of being selected as some kind of guardian although he was vague about the details. Wesley was poring through the vaults, muttering over the various prophecies he’d uncovered. Lorne was planning a world tour or making plans to cut an album with Tom Jones--he wasn’t sure which. Fred kept on chattering to Angel about the various advances in medicines and physics she had seen in their labs. He didn’t understand the technical jargon and hearing her burble on about it made his head hurt. But she was obviously happy as a clam. That left Angel as the odd man out.
They had found their niche here at Wolfram & Hart. That was no reason for him to spoil their happiness. If they truly were at home, then he would leave them to it. Perhaps he was the only one who should consider going… But no, that would leave Cordelia in the hands of Wolfram & Hart and he was unwilling to abandon her now that he’d gotten her back.
Thinking of his seer, Angel decided to see her again. But how entertaining was it to see someone in a coma? There was a kind of relief in talking freely to her without having her chime in with her usual snippy comments. However, even that palled after a while.
Still, it couldn’t hurt to pop in on her every now and again, keep these W&H people on their toes. If they ever got the notion Angel was neglecting Cordelia, who knew what they’d do to her?
Willow and Faith sauntered into the lobby. Faith looked a lot more confident than she felt. This place was intimidating and meant to be so but she wasn’t going to let it rattle her. “Buddy, can you tell me where the big man is?”
“Big man?” the security guard replied, his bland tone indicating neither surprise nor comprehension.
“Angel, vamp with a soul, stands about yea high,” she mimed mockingly, her hand hovering about six inches over her head.
The receptionist answered her. “Mr. Angel is currently ensconced with Ms. Chase and is taking no visitors.”
“That’s okay. I’m not exactly a visitor. I’m an old friend from way back. Could you let him know I’m here?”
“Faith, you’re wearing a different face, remember?” Willow whispered. The redhead waved at the receptionist. “Hi, Sandra. We’d really like to talk to Angel.”
The woman’s tone changed when she spoke to Willow. In a single moment, she began completely deferential. “Of course, Ms. Rosenberg. Just a moment,” the woman replied. Moments later, the two women found themselves being whisked up in the silent elevator.
Faith noted the dimensions of the sick room and grudgingly admitted the W&H people seemed to be treating Cordelia right. The room was impressively large albeit sparsely decorated. Of course. Not much reason for the terminally sleepy to have furniture.
Angel was seated beside Cordelia, reading quietly to her from a copy of Madame Bovary, and Faith became aware that they were probably intruding. “Are we interrupting?”
He looked up and frowned. Standing in the doorway were Willow and some other woman he didn’t recognize. She smelled like Faith but she was a stranger to him. “Willow? Who’s your friend?”
“Who’s…? Oh, I forgot to turn it off.” She snapped her fingers and the other woman’s face blurred to reveal the more familiar features of Faith. “Just a little trick to keep her out of the cop’s clutches.”
Angel raised one eyebrow at the easy display of magic. “Good trick.”
Just then Faith realized the sun was pouring through the windows and falling onto his body. “Shit! Angel, get out of there!” She rushed forward and grabbed at his hands, trying to pull him up.
He struggled against her grip. “It’s all right, Faith. The windows are necro-tempered so I can stay in here.”
“Necro-what?”
“Sunproofed so Angel doesn’t go ‘poof’ in the daylight. Sorry, guess I forgot to mention it,” Willow apologized.
Of course; stupid of her. He had to have been sitting here for some time. “Oh. Shoulda realized.” She pulled back to look at him critically.
He noticed her intent gaze. “What? Is there something in my hair?”
“Just admiring the view. You look good in the sun. Stay there long enough you might catch a tan.”
“Not likely.” He closed the book gently and rested it on his chair as he stood up.
Faith flipped through it idly before setting it on the stand beside the bed. “Hate to tell you this, Angel, but from what I heard about this chick, I’m thinking Vogue magazine would be more her speed.”
“Maybe. But I’m not going to read ‘The Ten Best Ways of Pleasing a Man in Bed’ even for Cordelia,” he deadpanned.
Both women sniggered at the notion of Angel talking about women wearing garters. Willow pointed out, “That’s more a Cosmopolitan thing, actually.”
“Anyhow, I just wanted to thank you for the cool threads.” Faith hooked her thumbs in the pockets and held the jacket away from her body, twirling around for his inspection. “You like?”
“It’s very…you, Faith. I thought you might like it.”
“I’m an easy gal to please.” She stood by Cordelia and surveyed her without speaking for a minute. “So, Angel. I just gotta know. What’s with you and the society princess?”
Angel’s face grew stiff and unreadable and Faith knew she was treading on dangerous ground. Nevertheless, she plowed on, bent on getting the truth. “I’m just wondering whether you two are good friends or if it’s something else. I never really knew her back in the ‘Dale and she and I didn’t--well, she didn’t really want to talk to me when Wesley busted me from stir.”
That was an understatement. Thanks to Faith’s attempts to kill Angel, his decision to rehabilitate her and Cordelia’s subsequent flight out of town because of that decision, the former rich girl and the Mayor’s turncoat Slayer had remained permanently hostile to one another.
Willow thought it was best to avoid this subject. “Faith, I’m not sure that’s any of our business.”
“Cordelia and I…it’s complicated, Faith.”
“No, it really isn’t, Angel. Do you love her? That’s an easy question that you either answer ‘yes or no.’ Not exactly a brain-buster.”
“No, I mean, the situation’s complicated.”
“What, you mean whether it’s okay to love her while she’s in a coma? I’m not asking about sex, Angel. I’m talking about love.”
“I know what you meant, Faith. It’s just the word ‘love’ covers a lot of ground. There’s platonic love, fraternal love, paternal love and amorous love, to name a few. The Greeks had a name for all of them.”
“Okay, Greek tongue aside, I just want to know if it’s the hot, sweaty, pounding, forever kind of love you and B had.”
“No. Love like that comes only once in a lifetime. It’s not likely you can repeat it.”
“So it’s not the grand love you had with Buffy,” Willow probed cautiously. She decided she was interested in joining this conversation after all. Willow had spotted the recognizable tenderness flicker in Angel’s eyes at the mention of Buffy’s name. The next moment, it disappeared so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it.
“Cordelia’s…changed a lot, Willow. You’d hardly recognize her if she were awake.” He moved closer to the bed as if to draw strength from his silent seer. “She became really kind. She was so good to Fred after she came back from Pylea. Fred was a nervous wreck, terrified of stepping out of doors, scared of her own shadow. It was Cordelia who convinced her to go with her for a little girl’s night out.
“Oh, she took her shopping, I suppose,” Willow said with a dismissive gesture.
“She took her to a karaoke bar. It used to be run by my friend Lorne only we kept trashing it.” A brief flash of amusement lit up the vampire’s face as he thought of how many wonderful hours he’d spent in Caritas.
Willow’s eyebrows shot halfway up to her hairline. “Oh. Well, that’s definitely…different. You’re right; that’s not the Cordelia I remember. So did you and her get to have hot smoochies like you did with Buffy?”
“Hot…no, we’ve never really kissed.” Well, there was that time they were possessed by the spirits of dead lovers but he didn’t think that counted. The tiny part of him that had been aware of what was happening had been highly embarrassed instead of turned on. He had wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. His subsequent consternation on seeing Cordelia embrace Groo when they returned from the ballet had been more out of resentment than jealousy.
“No kissing? Not even when the two of you did the dirty deed? Gotta tell ya, I thought you’d be more romantic than that, Angel. Oh wait, could you have sex? I remember that as being a big no-no.” Faith’s gaze flicked between him and the woman on the bed.
Angel did nothing to correct Faith’s assumption. He wasn’t about to bring up Darla. “We never had sex, Faith. Look, Willow was right. This isn’t any of your business.” He was feeling curiously defensive as both women bent their penetrating stares on him.
“But you at least got to second base, right?” Faith mimed groping at someone’s tits and Angel gritted his teeth.
The vampire’s pained silence told the Slayer all she needed to know. “Let me get this straight. You never kissed this woman, you weren’t copping feels and you never banged her--not even once. Wow, this is a flaming, sticky little romance, ain’t it, Red? Makes me long for Internet porn,” Faith smirked as she traded glances with the other woman.
“Faith, there’s more to love than the merely physical,” Angel said, an edge of irritation in his voice.
“Gotcha, big man. I know you and B had to stay away from the horizontal mambo after you got your soul back ‘cause of that pesky no-happiness clause thing. But I’m betting that didn’t stop the two of you from getting some quality groping and you’re telling me there was none of that with you and the cheerleader. I just don’t get it. Where’s the love?”
“It’s…it’s… There were so many things getting in the way.” He realized how feeble this sounded. But how could he explain about Cordelia and Groo? Or evil Cordelia and Connor? Come to think of it, why would Cordelia take Groo if she were in love with Angel? She’d never really explained that and Groo hadn’t been around to give his version of their affair. The big man had mysteriously disappeared while Angel had been underwater and no one had seen him since then.
Angel wasn’t even sure if Cordelia loved him. She had wanted to tell him something important that night at the beach but she never made it and he had had to make an impromptu ocean voyage. Afterwards, when he’d asked her if they had been in love, she had said yes. But she was evil by then; nothing she said in those days could be trusted.
“So you’re in love by rumor?” Willow quipped. She giggled at the embarrassed look on Angel’s face. Then the redhead tipped her head on the side as she considered. “And how do you feel about Buffy now?”
That was the 64-million-dollar question, wasn’t it? “Buffy and I have been apart for more than four years, Willow. She’s…moved on without me and that’s just what I wanted for her.”
“Is it, Angel?” Willow insisted. “You wanted her to have a normal life. But she’s never gonna have that. She died and she came back from the dead. Twice! Her city sank into a crater! This is so outside the world of normal that it’s practically in another zip code! When are you going to realize that this normal life scenario you’ve got painted in your head for her is just crap? At least Spike…” She stopped talking, appalled, when she realized she’d almost spilled the beans about the bleached blonde vampire.
He’d hoped to avoid mentioning Spike. But it seemed inevitable. “It’s all right, Willow. You don’t have to hide anything from me. I know Buffy was with Spike.”
Willow was surprised Angel could state it so calmly. “Y-you knew? When did you find out?”
“When I gave Buffy the amulet. I could…smell Spike on her.” It was all he could do to state that without spitting in disgust.
“No, she wasn’t sleeping with Spike then. That was last year before…” Willow gulped and shrank in the face of Angel’s and Faith’s shocked expressions.
“Before he got his soul? Buffy slept with Spike when he was still soulless?” Of course, that’s what he had assumed when he first detected his hated grandchilde’s odor on Buffy. But, while the news of Spike’s soul had been disturbing, he had consoled himself with the idea that Buffy had merely been conforming to type when she screwed him. Now he had to adjust all over again to the thought that Buffy had been rolling around with a soulless beast.
Faith’s eyes narrowed at the news. “She did? That is seriously messed up. Damn, B must have gone off the deep end.” She stomped over to the chair Angel had vacated and threw herself down in it with a snort of disgust.
Willow asked, “Angel, is that why you and Buffy aren’t doing the talky thing? You think she’s in love with Spike?”
“Buffy and I didn’t really get to discuss it much before I left Sunnydale but I’m betting that’s a really complicated story, too.”
Willow watched him carefully, trying to read behind his carefully chosen words. “What did Buffy tell you about Spike, Angel? Exactly?”
“She said…he was in her heart.”
“Did she say that she loved him?”
Angel silently recited the Japanese alphabet in his mind before speaking again. “No. I did ask…but she said no. Which doesn’t mean anything,” he added, seeing that she was about to interrupt. “She may have simply tried to spare my feelings.” God, he really didn’t want to talk about this. The very idea of Buffy with Spike was agonizing and he didn’t want anybody grilling him about it, especially Buffy’s best friend.
“She still loves you,” the redhead said quietly and the words caused his head to snap towards her.
“How…how do you know that?”
“Yeah, I’d be kinda interested in hearing that myself, Red.” Faith leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. There was a story behind that statement and she didn’t want to miss a single word.
“We were having a conversation last year. It was about someone else and Buffy said she loved you. She loved you more than she would ever love anybody in this life.”
He seized on that word. “Aha! Loved! As in past tense, Willow. You see? She’s moved on, just as I said,” he pointed out to her. He couldn’t let himself hope. The disappointment of it would kill him. He looked desperately at Cordelia as if trying to anchor himself to her by sheer force of will.
“More than anybody else in this life! That’s what she said. She couldn’t have just flip flopped and decided only a few months later, ‘Oh, I’m in love with Spike’ ‘Oh, I’m suddenly crazy about dyed hair and stolen leather coats’ ‘Oh, he’s got a soul now just like Angel so he’s definitely the one for me.’ “ Willow’s voice dripped with contempt at the sheer idiocy of the idea.
Then her eyes lit up. “Is that the problem? You think his soul is permanently glued in so you think he’s a better fit for Buffy than you? ‘Cause it’s not an issue. When I stuck your soul back in the last time, I yanked out that clause. You can lose your soul by sorcery or witchcraft but not from the happy.” She finished in triumph and looked to see what impression her news made.
“It’s not about what I can do for Buffy, Willow. Like I said, love for us was more than the sex. Otherwise our relationship would have ended when I came back from hell. It’s what Buffy feels. If she loves Spike, then learning my soul is a permanent fixture won’t make any difference to her. After all, having a soul didn’t help Riley, did it?” he added.
“She never loved Riley. She loved you. That’s what broke up that unhappy scenario. That and the vamp whore business,” Willow finished with a mutter. She’d been appalled by the news, drawn from an unhappy Buffy, about the final end of her affair with Riley although privately she hadn’t been surprised. She’d seen right from the beginning how the muy macho soldier had had problems with Buffy’s lingering love for Angel. Willow had just hoped for the best--just like everybody else.
Vamp whores? He hadn’t known about that. Never mind; they weren’t discussing Finn. This was all about the souled wannabe, Spike, and he tried to stay calm. Willow knew Buffy better than anybody. But he was sure she didn’t know everything there was to know about Buffy and Spike. Buffy would have hidden things about being with Spike just as she hid Angel’s presence from her friends after he returned from hell.
He had to discourage the redhead from raising any false hopes. “Willow, have you ever heard of mayflies?”
Faith screwed up her face as she tried to follow this abrupt change in topic. “Huh? Okay, somebody jumped the track ‘cause I thought we were talking about love, here.”
Angel ignored Faith to stare at Willow as he tried to make his point. “They’re insects. They’re born, live, eat, mate and die all in the space of 24 hours. A single day. That’s an incredible short span of time for humans, Willow. But for the mayfly it’s an entire life--a whole life of living, loving and creating life. In the space of this entire conversation we’ve had, a mayfly would have passed through puberty to adulthood and begun seeking a mate.”
Willow was shocked at the callous comparison. “Are--are you tg tog to say that Buffy’s a mayfly? That’s all she was to you?”
“I’m not talking about how I see her. I’m talking about humans in general and human behavior in particular. I’ve been around a long time, Willow. I’ve seen what passes for human love. I know how ephemeral it can be. Buffy may have loved me once. She doesn’t love me any longer.”
“That’s bullshit!” Faith knew she was getting unreasonably worked up about this. But somehow the love between Buffy and Angel had seemed like the one beautiful shining constant in the life she’d had, a life where nothing and no one else was true, faithful or trustworthy. Now here was Angel dissing Buffy’s feelings and comparing her to a fucking fruitfly.
“Look, I’m telling you, Angel, B couldn’t love Spike. Not the way she loved you. That soul of his--he must have got it at a soul bargain basement store for $0.99 ‘cause it didn’t make him any different from the asshole I met when he was soulless. If B fell for him because of that, she’s a hell of a lot stupider than I took her for.”
“Love isn’t brains, Faith.” He remembered who’d told him that and his jaw clenched.
“Angel, Buffy meant what she said. She still loves you; just give her the chance.”
“When did she say that, Willow? Do you remember?”
Willow cast her mind back frantically. “I-I think it was back in October.”
Angel smiled sadly at her. “Seven months ago. A lifetime.” He paused; maybe he should tell them about the cookie dough speech, about how Buffy thought she wasn’t ready to have a relationship. No, Buffy had said something about “maybe” during that conversation and Willow would see that as a sign of hope. Hope with Buffy was a luxury he simply couldn’t afford. He turned pointedly to Cordelia and let his fingers trail over her face.
Faith couldn’t believe him. Buffy’s whole happiness lay in his hands and he was going to forget her like she never existed. She wanted to hit him so hard he’d bleed. “You didn’t answer Red’s question.”
“I think I have, Faith.” His answer was chilly; he wouldn’t turn nor look at either of them.
“No, you didn’t, Angel. How do you feel about Buffy now?” Willow wished she could cast a truth spell right now so she could force it out of the taciturn creature determined to avoid confronting either her or his feelings.
Angel turned and gave her a piercing stare out of his dark eyes. “Tell me something, Willow. Do you still love Oz?”
“Oz? No, not the way I once did. I loved him like crazy once upon a time and he’ll always be special to me. But Tara came along and I saw what true love really is. I loved her with everything that I am. I did things for her, to her, that I’m not proud of. But that shows you just how mixed-up love can make you. Does loving Cordelia make you that crazy, Angel?”
“No and thank God for that. Craziness is not a good state of mind for me, Willow. Cordelia keeps me level and sane. I appreciate that. I love her for it.”
Faith snorted at the tame description. “Big whoop. So does doing chin ups in the prison yard. Come on, Red. Let’s get out of here. Even I know denial when I see it.” She stood up and turned to leave. “Angel, you let Buffy go and she dove off a tower and died. I wasn’t there for that but I’m thinking that musta cut pretty deep. You probably wish with all your soul that you coulda been there for her.”
She paused and her voice when she spoke again was low and steely. “If she dies again and you’re not around for it, then you deserve to lose her.”
She stomped out of the room without looking to see if Willow was behind her.
The wiccan hesitated and then touched Angel lightly on the sleeve. “Angel, I’ve got only one thing to add to that. You come around for all the big moments in Buffy’s life. But loving someone is about being there for the small, non-important times, too. Don’t be there for Buffy’s death. Be there for her life. Remember what you said. Love like that only comes once in a lifetime. Don’t be so quick to chuck it out the window.” She waited and then bent over Cordelia’s still figure. “Goodbye, Cordelia. See you soon.”
Angel didn’t say another word as she left the room. He stood like a statue for several drawn-out moments. Then he sat by the bed, the novel lying neglected by his side.

TBC
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