Teach Me to Hear the Mermaids Singing - carleton97

Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth,
And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.

-- Edward Moore

PROLOGUE

Usually, road trips with Angel are relaxing. For someone who was born before cars were even invented, he's a good driver and the quiet hum of the car is kind of soothing, but tonight I can't seem to settle down. I've been pretending to read for over an hour, but the words aren't making any sense and motion sickness is combining with my nerves to make me feel pukey. Before us, the familiar highway between LA and Sunnydale stretches blindly into the night.

This is so stupid! I hate being nervous. All this anxiety and adrenaline can't be good for my skin. I wasn't even this stressed when I auditioned for the Blair Witch sequel, but seeing the people who bring out the best and the worst in you is kind of nerve wracking.

This will be the first time I've seen everyone since I left and a lot can happen in two years, I guess. It's not like I cut off all contact - I've called Giles and Willow with various research questions, talked to Xander a couple of times, and every few months, when Buffy would get her angst jones on, I'd see her, but that's it. The Sunnydale gang really doesn't know the new me.

I left Sunnydale broke and broken, with nothing but my dreams of international superstardom to keep me warm. I was done with vampires, done with demons, done with fixer-upper men, and done with the eternal struggle between good and evil. The next thing I knew, I was working for Angel, researching apocalypse monsters, mourning a short, half-breed demon, and fighting off brain-numbing visions of pain and terror.

That's another thing; the Sunnydale people don't even know about my little gift from the PTB. After that creepy little loser tried to pluck my eyes out, we decided the fewer people who knew about me being a Seer, the better. It's not like I think they'd sell me down the river to that appallingly cute, yet appallingly evil lawyer Lindsey, but it just never came up. Really, how do you relay that kind of information? 'Did I tell you that, before he died saving humanity from the Scourge, a Irish Brachen demon kissed me and passed along his visions, making me Angel's connection to the Powers That Be? Pass the eye of newt, would you?'

Actually, that's not a bad way of saying it. I must be slipping.

There's more to the new me than just visions, though. I know I'll never be the nicest person on earth, but I've stopped hurting the people I care about, the people who care about me. I even tried to work on the tact thing, but Angel thinks that might be a lost cause. That's OK. He loves me anyway.

My book starts to slide off my lap, but I catch it before it can hit the floor. Shakespeare really was a busy guy, wasn't he? I can't help but smile as I run my fingernail over the embossed edge of the pages. Only Angel would consider The Complete Works of Shakespeare an appropriate twenty-first birthday present. It wasn't just a present, though. It was a recognition.

Last winter, during and especially long evil drought, Wesley and Angel had taken to entertaining each other by reciting entire scenes from 'Hamlet.' At first I didn't say much, just rolled my eyes and went back to my websurfing. They carried on for *days,* moving from 'Hamlet' to 'MacBeth' to 'Henry V.' Somewhere along the way, though, I started to enjoy it. Somehow, their casual game interested me more than the hours of droning lecture in High School.

So I studied.

Wesley had been about to launch into Henry V's St. Crispin's Day speech when I interrupted. I know I was terrible, but I finished the speech, then finished the scene. When I was done, I went back to my filing as if nothing had happened, but it had. From then on, I kept finding lines taped to my monitor and Angel wouldn't leave me alone until I knew the whole scene or poem.

I glance back down at the thick book in my lap and a phrase catches my eye, the irony of it not escaping me. "I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me..." I know I'm afraid everyone will see me the way I was, wanting nothing more than the adoration of millions, rather than the way I'm trying to be.

And while I haven't exactly given up on my dreams of opening night fame, they lose a little more of their luster with every battle we win and every life we save. For some reason, it's a bit more fulfilling to clear out a nest of vampires than to hear some pretentious hack director tell me I don't grasp the subtleties inherent in his vision of bargain shampoo. If Buffy and her groupies can't understand that, then they can just go to hell.

But not literally.

You can't be too careful around the Hellmouth.

***

CHAPTER ONE

"Remind me again why we're here?" From the sidewalk, Angel stared apprehensively at the shapes moving behinds the shades of Buffy's house.

"Because, Boutrous Boutrous-Ghali, you decided it was time for all of us to disarm and play nice." I pulled at the hem of my shirt one last time, making sure it covered the edge of the puckered scar on my stomach. Wesley snickered under his breath and shifted Giles' present in his arms.

As we watched, the Buffy-shaped silhouette jumped up and locked its arms around the neck of a tall, strong figure, "This is a bad idea." Angel took an unconscious step back towards his car. "A *really* bad idea."

"Oh, no, you don't!" I grabbed his hand and began pulling him towards the front door, Wesley bringing up the rear. "You dragged us here and you're damn well going to be a part of the festivities." I squeezed his hand tightly to take some of the sting from my words.

I rang the doorbell, impatiently twisting a chunk of my hair as we waited for a response. The door swung open without warning and I immediately sized up the hunk of almost-salty goodness filling the doorway - big, innocent looking, loyal, and obviously - judging from Angel's suddenly painful grip on my hand - the mysterious Riley.

"Angel." His voice was nice and deep, but I felt my nose wrinkle at the flat, midwestern accent that one word revealed.

"Riley."

The silence stretched around us as the two alpha males stared each other down. Angel's hand was like steel in mine and a muscle rhythmically clenched and unclenched on the side of Riley's jaw. My eyes rolled as far back in my head as they could go and I not-very-gently jostled Angel aside. "You must be Riley. I'm glad we're finally meeting. I've heard so many good things about you. I'm Cordelia, by the way."

I stuck out my hand and smiled winningly. Riley looked blankly at me for a moment before remembering his manners with a start. "Cordelia, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. And you must be Wesley. Please, come in. We're expecting Giles in about fifteen minutes."

He stepped aside to let us in and I graced him with another smile, thinking how much it must suck to be forever in someone's shadow. Then I caught sight of Willow, Xander, and Buffy huddled around the punch bowl and remembered just how sucky it is.

They were too wrapped up in whatever world saving endeavor they were discussing to notice us right away, so I took a moment to see what kind of changes two years had brought to Sunnydale. Buffy looked as little, blonde, and cute as ever. It kills me how defenseless she always looks. She's the Slayer, why isn't she all Amazony and intimidating? Willow was obviously still bowing to her goddess Salvation Army, but I have to admit with her hair shorter and the Wicca vibe she's got going on, the look worked for her. I knew I shouldn't even bother looking at Xander and his I-let-blind-retarded-monkeys-dress-me wardrobe, but I'm a glutton for punishment. A quick glance didn't sear my retinas, so I let my eyes wander a little over his jeans and t-shirt.

Damn.

Even back in high school Xander always had a much nicer body than a dorky skate-punk deserved, but now he was firmly on the Russell Crowe end of the hottie spectrum. He'd been working out. A lot. The gray fabric of his shirt was pulled snugly across his shoulders and around his upper arms, showing the workings of his muscles as he shifted.

Angel squeezed my hand lightly, breaking into my momentary gape and, as Wesley drew up to flank my other side, we crossed into the living room together. Willow caught sight of us first and a truly happy smile lit her face. "Cordelia! I was afraid you wouldn't be able to make it."

Before I could react, Willow enveloped me in a tight hug. Releasing Angel's hand, I tentatively raised my arms to return the embrace. "It's good to see you, Willow. Really."

My sincere response seemed to break the ice in the room and within five minutes I was watching as Angel discussed hair products with Riley's friend Graham and Wesley regaled Xander, Buffy, and Riley with tales of Jheira, the space-babe.

Willow and I were comparing notes on the wave of beetle demons that had passed through Southern California last month when Mrs. Summers ushered in the final two guests. Even if I hadn't recognized Anya, the way she sucker-fished onto Xander's side would have given her away. When Xander didn't immediately stop all flow of conversation to pay attention to her, she began to pout, sending the others evil glares. I can't believe he's still with her and, judging from the look on Willow's face, neither can she.

I didn't recognize the other girl Joyce led in, but she headed straight for us and greeted Willow with an absent-minded kiss on the mouth.

What. The. Hell.

When did Willow start playing for the other team?

Or both teams.

Whatever.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Angel grinning like an idiot in my general direction and I assumed from everyone else's non-reaction that this was old news. I threw him a quick look of death for keeping this bit of information from me. I mean, when I asked to be left out of the Sunnydale updates, it was because I was sick to death of 'Buffy killed this demon. Buffy slew this fiend. Buffy averted the apocalypse yet again.'

Is it too much to ask to have important information relayed in a timely manner? He didn't even have to make a production out of it. A simple heads-up would have been sufficient. "The filing is on your desk, Cordelia. By the way, Willow likes girls."

I turned back to Willow and her girlfriend before anyone could notice my silent communication with Angel. She had her head buried in a bag from the antiquarian bookshop and her friend was gazing at me curiously.

"Hi, I'm Cordelia."

"Tara." Her voice was quiet and she had a slight stutter, but her handshake was firm and full of power - magic power. You don't hang around Angel for two years without getting familiar with the feel of magic in a person and this Tara person had it like Ricky Martin had charisma.

I felt Willow tense up beside me and I knew she was remembering every cruel and thoughtless act I ever committed. I resented it for a second, the fear and the judgment, but I couldn't deny the truth. If I had met her five years ago, Tara would already crying. So, instead of focusing on her ill-fitting peasant blouse or the brown shoes she was wearing with her very black pants, I ducked my head to meet her downcast eyes and gave her hand a friendly squeeze before letting go. "It's nice to meet you."

Tara smiled a little then and looked at me more closely, "You look familiar; do we know each other?"

I study her features more closely, "I don't think so. I'd remember you, you're very pretty."

Tara dropped her eyes shyly and Willow just looked at me. "Who are you and what have you done with Cordelia?"

There was humor in her voice, but it still hurt a little to be reminded of the person I was trying to leave behind. I looked away to find most of the room staring at me in slack-jawed amazement. Well, OK, only Xander and Buffy were slack-jawed, but everyone had apparently heard the exchange and it was enough to make me want to loose the inner bitch on all of them. Before I could say something I'd regret, though, Joyce came bustling back into the room and shooed us towards the back of the house.

"Giles just turned onto the street. Everyone get into the kitchen."

We got stuck at the kitchen doorway as everyone tried to squeeze through at once, and Wesley and Angel appeared on either side of me. Wesley brushed his knuckles against mine in that odd way he has and Angel let his hand rest heavily on the small of my back, its weight cool and familiar. I leaned into both of them in turn, feeling some of my tension slide away. They drifted ahead of me as the bottleneck eased and I jumped a little as Buffy fell into step next to me. She didn't say anything, just sort of stared at me with that pouty expression she gets from thinking too hard, and I decided to risk the conversational gambit.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to you when we first got here, but you seemed enthralled with Wesley's rendition of 'The Adventures of Jheria, Queen of All Things Vinyl.'"

Her face got even scrunchier for a second, if that's possible. "I'd like to hear your version of everything that's gone on."

The tone of her voice was odd and it occurred to me that she was jealous. Not of me and Angel as a couple. God, no. Ew. He's *dead*. Besides, he's still kind of Buffy-whipped. No, she was jealous that I got to spend time with him, to see him everyday without worrying about boinking the soul right out of him. Sure, she was moving on with Riley, but Angel would always be a part of her and she wanted to know what his life without her was like.

For a brief shining second, the one thing I used to want more than anything else - power over Buffy - beckoned to me. From the moment she arrived in Sunnydale, it seemed like Buffy and her friends did nothing but slowly chip away at the image it had taken my entire life to build. I know that wasn't actually the truth, but there was enough Queen C left inside of me to get a real thrill at the thought of finally gaining the upper hand over Buffy. Even after two years apart, the way she felt about Angel was still her biggest vulnerability and now I was a part of his life. The possibilities for bitchery were dizzying and I was tempted.

Riley joined us then and dropped one of his unwieldy arms around Buffy's shoulders. Her features relaxed and she leaned into his strength. I was shocked at how happy and normal she looked. She wasn't worried about killing her demon lover to save the world or trying to plan an assault on a giant snake in front of most of the town. She was just a college student enjoying being near her boyfriend and, for the first time in years, I remembered Buffy was just like the rest of us and the life she's had to lead would break even the strongest person.

I really hate buying into the whole Chosen One scene, but Buffy had given up so much to keep evil from winning, more than she even knew, and I was ashamed of myself for even thinking about using Angel against her. Maybe I hadn't changed as much as I thought. So I managed to smile as we all were herded into the small room and nodded at her, "Later."

After some jostling for position, we all managed to pack ourselves into the kitchen and I found myself wedged between Xander and Anya. Great. I don't see him for two years and now I'm plastered against him with his girlfriend glaring holes in my back. I smiled and shrugged a little to cover my discomfort, lowering my eyes to stare at the fabric of his shirt.

I felt, rather than saw him lower his head towards mine and suddenly the familiar scent of him surrounded me. The warm smell of his skin reminded me of quiet fumbling in the janitor's closet and lazy afternoons in my dad's hammock. I wanted to burrow into him until all I could see, all I could feel, all I could remember was him next to me. "So, how-"

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Anya as she poked me in the back. "I don't want you here."

"Excuse me?"

"Anya!"

She ignored Xander's horrified whisper. "You're in my spot. Move."

Was I ever that bitchy? God. "I'm sorry, Anya. There aren't a lot of options open to me right now. After we 'surprise' Giles into a heart attack, you can re-attach yourself to Xander, but I think you can wait for five minutes."

"Cordelia..." Angel managed to meet my eyes around Xander's shoulder and the tone of warning in his voice was unmistakable, but I was still feeling guilty about before with Buffy and Anya was begging for it.

She furrowed her eyebrows until she had the uni-brow of a Mafia princess and poked me in the back again, "If I hadn't lost my powers -"

"If you hadn't lost your powers, Willow would be covered in monkey hair and Xander would be a monk, so I don't think that's a time anyone really wants to revisit. Now just shut the hell up and celebrate Giles getting old."

With that I managed to wiggle myself around Xander and into Angel's loose embrace. "Delia -"

"I know. I'll apologize later. Let's just surprise Giles and get the hell out of Dodge."

***

Giles was appropriately surprised by the outpouring of birthday love from everyone. He stuttered and stammered his thanks as he opened his presents, then retired to the couch with Wesley, talking about...something. Armageddon and soccer hooliganism maybe.

As soon as everyone had finished their punch and pie, Buffy sent Riley to talk to Graham and advanced on me like a predator. "So, tell me about life in LA."

Anya's little territorial display had destroyed some of the Goodwill-Towards-Slayer warm fuzzies I had developed, but I had promised Buffy, so I leaned against the windowsill, covertly checking out my surroundings. Testosterone and weapons, the universal constants, had managed to bridge the gap between the boys as Angel, Riley, and Graham were avidly debating the merits of technological innovations versus the old standbys of wood and silver. Willow and Tara were helping Joyce clean up some of the mess in the kitchen and Xander and Anya were fighting quietly in the far corner of the room. I felt an answering twinge in my back when she poked him in the chest a couple of times. She had really pointy fingers.

Satisfied no one would interrupt us, I began to talk about our lives. I didn't mention Doyle because it still hurt to think about and I didn't talk about the whole shanshu prophecy because we didn't know when it would occur and it would be cruel to get her hopes up, but there were dozens of other stories to tell. So I gave her the dirt on Wolfram & Hart. I mocked Kate. I described Gunn and his urban commandos.

Willow and Tara joined us at some point and all three seemed a little amazed at the network of people Angel dealt with on a regular basis. "So Angel actually talks to people?"

I had to smile at Willow's confusion. If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't believe it either, "Well, he's not exactly Rico Suave when it comes to conversing, but he's gotten a lot better. I hardly ever have to jump in when we meet with clients."

"Crazy."

Giles interrupted before Willow could say anything else. "Willow? Could you and Tara assist us? Some of these incantations are a bit difficult to decipher."

Ha. I knew Giles wouldn't be able to resist the crusty old book Angel had found for him. I looked more closely and saw that he had already replaced the gold ring in his ear with the new one I had picked out. Excellent. I guess listening to Willow ramble on whenever I called paid off in the long run.

Buffy wandered off to see what sort of magic the former Watchers were brewing and I relaxed a little, enjoying being alone. It looked like Xander and Anya had been unable to resolve their differences in anything resembling an adult fashion. Xander had joined the boys club and seemed to be a key figure in the 'Crossbows: Spring Loaded or Compressed Air' debate. Anya had cornered Joyce near the kitchen and was going through, in gory detail, all of Xander's shortcomings. I knew I should apologize to her for my behavior in the kitchen, but I'd rather have faced down a slime demon than go near her when she was finishing up sentences with "...so I told him that sex had to be the basis of our relationship since it was the only thing he didn't share with his friends."

Ouch.

Seeing I was alone, Xander left Angel to hold down the spring loaded side of the debate and leaned against the wall next to me. "As I started to say earlier, I'm glad you decided to visit good old Sunnyhell."

I smiled a little and decided to get the apology over with. "I'm sorry about the way I behaved earlier. I'd apologize to Anya, but she's...busy right now."

He frowned at his sullen girlfriend, "Anya's still getting the hang of the whole human thing, but you didn't deserve that." He cocked his head a little, as if trying to figure me out. "There's something different about you."

You don't know the half of it, honey. But that really wasn't a road I wanted to go down, so I flipped my hair behind my shoulder and prepared to change the subject. Then the world went black with pain.

***

CHAPTER TWO

Before my little marathon vision last year, I would have said the pain was the worst part of being Angel's personal ouija board, but it's the fear, the despair that really affects me now. The pain was really bad this time, though, and I felt myself sliding towards the floor. Through my haze, I heard a brief scuffle and suddenly Angel was beside me, his hands strong and cool as they smoothed my hair and pressed against my scalp.

"Angel? What happened? Is Cordy all right?" Xander's voice was quiet and worried and it sounded like he was leaning over Angel's shoulder. The final images of the vision faded and I moaned a little as the pain set in.

Angel began massaging my head gently, "Cordelia will be fine. She just sees evil sometimes."

The pain eased a little from Angel's practiced movements and I blindly held out my hand, knowing Wesley was nearby with aspirin and water. He gently placed the aspirin and ice water in my hand, then knelt at my side, taking out his ever-present notebook. I swallowed the pills and pressed the cold glass against my forehead.

"Cordelia, what did you see?" One renegade tear managed to work it's way past my lashes, but Angel caught it before it could land on my shirt.

"Nothing. There was just pain and darkness."

I could *feel* Angel frown at my vague description. "There has to be more than that, Cordelia. Think."

Despite the lingering pain, my eyes snapped open and focused unerringly on his. "Look, if you want to hop on the vision train and leave me the broody mopery, be my guest. Until then, trust me when I say it was dark and there was pain." I frowned as something else occurred to me, "And it was here."

"Here? In Buffy's house?" Wesley's hand paused over his notebook.

"No, just here in Sunnydale and -" The atmosphere of the vision returned to me for a second, "This is just the beginning."

Angel and Wesley exchanged a look before they stood, carefully bringing me up with them. I steadied myself against the wall and shrugged their hands off.

Angel rubbed his forehead as we snapped into research mode. "We don't have a lot to go on this time. Wes, you and I will hit the books and prophecies to see if anything is brewing. Cordelia? You up for some quality internet time?"

"Always."

Angel and Wesley turned from their protective positions around me and, from the semicircle surrounding us, nine faces stared back with expressions ranging from concerned curiosity to gape-jawed shock. Oopsie. I guess we're not in LA anymore, Toto.

"Did you just say that Cordelia sees evil sometimes?" Buffy was looking at me like I had grown an extra head.

From the guilty look on his face, Angel realized that he spilled the beans about my visions. He sent a contrite look my way before answering. "Yeah. Sometimes she... sees things. Demon things."

There was about a five second pause while everyone tried to process that, then the ambient noise in the room hit about four hundred decibels. Giles and Willow had Wesley pinned against the wall and were peppering him with questions about the source of the visions. Buffy, Riley, and Graham were trying to get details on some sort of battle strategy from Angel. Anya was on the couch filing her nails and Xander and Tara were just *looking* at me.

I wanted get away from everyone and the questions that were coming, but it was Sunnydale and it was dark, so I'd pretty much be dead by the time I'd walked a block. And my head still really hurt. Blocking out as much of the noise as I could, I leaned my head back against the wall and put the icy glass back to my temple.

I felt a soft, electric touch on my arm and opened my eyes to see Tara staring back at me. "Are you okay?"

I'm a psychic sewage processing plant, what do you think? "I'm fine. It just hurts for awhile."

"I could maybe help. If you wanted me to, that is."

I smiled at her hesitancy, at her willingness to help someone she hardly knew. "Thank you for offering. Nothing I try seems to help these stupid headaches."

"It's pretty simple, really. All I need is - "

"Why are you bothering?" Anya's voice cut through all of the various conversations.

"What?" She had a mean look in her eye and Tara moved a little closer to me.

"Please, you believe the psychic hotline act? She's a big faker."

I can't believe she called me a faker. What is she? Eight? What a freak. I mean, I had some hard-core Xander-jealousy going on in my time, but I never would have said anything like that.

Okay, but she's still a freak.

I heard Angel growl and he turned towards Anya. The whole room got *really* quiet and even without seeing his face, I knew he gone all 'grrrr' on Anya. It was a ridiculous accusation and Angel's instinctive defense of me gave me a nice, familial happy, but it had to stop. Joyce and Willow looked supremely wigged and Riley and Graham seemed to be scanning the room for potential weapons. Despite the renewed pounding in my head, I quickly moved to block Angel's path, nearly colliding with Xander as he advanced on Anya.

"Angel, stop." I grabbed his arms, halting his progress. "I'm fine, let it go."

His demon features slowly faded, but he kept his eyes focused over my shoulder, so I turned to watch Xander hustle Anya away. I couldn't hear what he said to her but, from the look on her face as he pushed her out the front door, it must have been bad. I really hope no one took over her position as vengeance demon.

Xander stayed just inside the threshold until her car started. He closed the door and returned to the living room as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. What do I know? Maybe Anya being a horrendous bitch is par for the course here in Sunnydale.

I had to admit, though, she had a rare talent. Everyone in the room was either upset or embarrassed. Since Xander was doing his best to ignore the whole thing, I decided to follow his example. "So, Tara, you were saying?"

And people say I have no tact. My casual question jump started the room and everyone but Angel slowly went back to their conversations.

Tara thought for a moment. "Um...I just need lavender and - oh."

"What 'oh'?"

"I need a family member to perform the ritual."

Huh. Dad was still fulfilling his obligation to society and Mom was 'rusticating' with her sister in Ohio, so that left out the family I was born into. "Do you need an actual blood relative or what?"

Tara's mouth moved as she silently recited the beginning of the ritual, "...in the hands of the heart's kin."

'Heart's kin.' I liked that. Angel, Wesley, and I weren't bound by birth or by chance. We were a family because we loved each other. And right now I needed my family to stop this godawful headache. Wesley and Giles were cravat deep in some random tomes that seemed to have appeared from nowhere, but Angel was staring at the floor, working on a king-sized brood. He hated losing control of the demon, especially in front of other people. If I didn't do something immediately, he'd be mopey and sullen for days.

Everyone else seemed to be engrossed in their conversations, so I fished an ice cube out of my abandoned glass and tossed it at his head to get his attention.

Bullseye! Right in the spikes.

He really hates it when I do that, but it guarantees his attention. He stalked over to where we were standing, messing with his hair the whole way. "Cordelia, I'm really not in the mood -"

"I need your help."

That got him. "What? What's wrong?"

Tara surprised both of us by speaking up, "I know a ritual that might help ease the pain caused by the visions."

Angel glanced at me before turning his full attention on Tara. "What do you need me to do?"

She rummaged around in the straw bag she carried around her shoulder and pulled out a little baggie full of dried flowers. "Hold out your hands."

She crushed a handful of the flowers and poured them into Angel's outstretched hands, the scent of lavender drifting around us. Tara cupped her hands under his and began chanting quietly in Latin. I haven't really picked up much of the language, but Angel was smiling slightly so it must have been okay. The air felt heavy with magic and their hands glowed as the lavender started to burn. The smoke plumed towards me in a twisting column of white, crawling in thin tendrils over my face and through my hair. After a second, the vapory cloud disappeared, taking my pain with it.

"Hey, it worked!" Angel shook his head and I knew that came out wrong. "I mean the pain is completely gone. Thank you, Tara."

"I could teach Wesley and Angel, if you wanted."

God, Joan of Arc had nothing on this girl. "That would make my year. Thank you so much."

Tara smiled and wandered off towards Willow and Buffy, pausing to whisper something in Xander's ear. He smiled a little and went back to listening to Riley and Graham. I don't know what kind of freaky wicca gathering Willow found Tara at, but she's terrific.

"Cordelia? Thanks."

I didn't know what exactly Angel was thanking me for, but it was always nice to be appreciated, so I squeezed his hand and smiled.

"Cordelia?" Wesley closed our little circle. "Giles is quite curious about your abilities. I've managed to deflect his questions so far, but I'm afraid after your demonstration, he won't be put off forever."

"Well, the cat's pretty much out of the bag on this one, and it's not like we're dealing with national security, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to funnel more knowledge into his enormous skull." I squeezed Angel's hand again, "Are you going to be okay here?"

"Cordelia, I'm two and a half centuries old. I think I can handle mingling."

I just looked at him.

"Fine. Point taken, but I'm okay. Really. Go play guinea pig for Giles."

I wrinkled my nose. "I swear, if he even suggests anything involving needles, you'll need the car to catch up with me."

Angel smiled and pushed me towards Wesley. "If you think I'm kidding, Mr. Broody, just wait until I'm half way back to LA."

I flopped down on the couch and Giles looked up from his book, blinking a little. "Ah, Cordelia. Excellent. Wesley said you might be of some assistance regarding your rather extraordinary visions."

"It's not all that extraordinary. I see evil things. Angel kills them."

"Cordelia..." I hate it when Wesley sounds like that.

"Fine. I don't really know all the details, but the Slayer isn't the only force fighting all the bad things in the world. There are other Warriors in the service of the Powers. Warriors who need direction, hence Seers."

"So you began having visions when you started working with Angel?"

Damn, I knew this was coming. "No, I'm not Angel's original Seer. Doyle was, but he died. Right before he died, he passed the visions on to me."

"You are Angel's link to the Powers and Their conduit to him." His eyes drifted out of focus for a second and his hands unconsciously stroked over the pages of his book. He snapped back Earth and focused on Wesley. "What I find fascinating is the complete absence of any mention of this in any source I've ever read."

"But what about..." And they were off, their barely concealed inner nerds coming out to play.

I tried to pay attention, but they were boring and Xander chose that moment to approach Angel.

Was a new world order put in power when I wasn't looking? Xander held his hand out and, for a moment, Angel looked at it as if it were a fat wooden spike marinated in holy water. Xander was talking, but no matter how much I strained I couldn't hear what he was saying. He had his sincere face on, the one that always got me into the closet in a heartbeat, and he didn't seem to care that his hand was still hanging in the air. He just kept talking as Angel stared at him.

I've gotten pretty good at reading the slight changes in Angel's expression, but I had no idea what was going on over there. Angel looked stunned and Xander was talking a mile a minute, trying to convince Angel of the truth of whatever he was saying. I don't know how Angel could be so unresponsive. If Xander were leaning forward and talking to me with that look on his face, I'd agree to whatever he was saying.

Where did *that* come from?

All of a sudden, Angel smiled, *really* smiled, and shook hands with Xander. He said something and Xander blinked, then laughed. Angel clapped him on the shoulder and they were absorbed back into Riley and Graham's conversation.

"Cordelia, are you paying any attention at all?"

From the tone of Giles' voice, it wasn't the first time he'd tried to get my attention. "Well, duh. Obviously not, or you wouldn't be asking."

Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, but Wesley just asked the question again. "Has anything else struck you about your vision? Any hint of what is coming?"

I forced myself to review the vision again. Sunnydale, complete darkness, complete pain, and a sense of more to come. "Only more visions, but something just occurred to me. This is really unlike the Powers. It's always been vision of evil, killing of evil. None of this long range stuff."

Giles put his glasses back on and made a strange face, "Cordelia's right. I think it is safe to assume that this latest vision of hers is no garden variety evil. Hopefully, the next vision will reveal more information."

Wesley agreed and they were saved from my wrath by the enormous yawn that paralyzed me. The pain and emotions of a vision usually left me exhausted; it wasn't so bad this time, thanks to Tara, but I was still feeling kind of drained.

"Tired?" Wesley stopped in the middle of picking up another decrepit book and looked at his watch. "It is rather late. If are going to spend tomorrow researching, we should get some sleep tonight."

I nodded my agreement as I yawned again.

"Shall I fetch Angel so we can return to the motel?" I waved him off and rested my head in my hands for a second.

"Well, Cordelia, it certainly has been a surprising night. I'm curious, though, as to why you never saw fit to mention you were so deeply involved in Angel's work." Good old Giles. Always willing to ask the hard questions.

"It just never came up, I guess." The truth is, I really don't know why I insisted on keeping it a secret. There are all sorts of reasons and excuses I could give, but even I wouldn't know which was the truth, if any. And my answer wasn't exactly a lie. It never really came up. I never had a vision about the Sunnydale gang, so I never had to explain it away.

I glanced around the room, checking on Wesley's progress, and my eyes collided with Xander's. It sounds like a lame Harlequin plot device, but for a moment I would have sworn we were the only people in the world. Then Graham claimed his attention again and he turned away as if nothing had happened. Maybe nothing did. I was tired and flashing back to study halls spent in the janitor's closet, so that could explain it. Except - the last time I felt something like that was when Doyle kissed me. Not like 'passing-along-supernatural-gifts' something, but something important. Something significant.

"Yes, well -"

"Giles, look, it's late and I'm tired. I know you have more questions, and I don't have much more information, but I promise I'll give you all I have. Tomorrow. Right now, I just want to get some sleep."

I must have looked like a Springer guest, because Giles took a good look at my face and closed his book. "I'm sorry, Cordelia. The visions must be terribly tiring. Of course we'll talk tomorrow."

I felt Angel and Wesley move up behind me, so I stood and began saying goodbye to everyone. Tara and Willow invited me to brunch on campus and I accepted. While a part of me really wished we were getting in the car and heading back to LA, my vision and its promise of evil had removed all chances for a speedy retreat. But I was kind of glad we were staying. I wanted to renew my friendships. I wanted to get to know the people they had become and I wanted them to get to know me. Xander kissed me on the cheek and I realized I *really* wanted to get to know him again.

Bad, bad Cordelia. He has a girlfriend. She's a bitch and a former demon and 1100 years old, but she was still his girlfriend. Well, tactful I may not be, but after ending up skewered on a piece of building refuse, I had promised myself I would never do that to another person. I was just going to have to keep my renewed interest in Xander to myself. How hard could it be?

***

"So, Angel. What were you and Xander talking about earlier?"

"He has a girlfriend, Cordelia."

"Angel! I am shocked that you would think such a thing of me. Didn't I end up in the hospital because of infidelity? Do you think I would stoop so low?"

I poked my head around the bathroom door to see if he believed me. He didn't look up, just kept flipping channels from his spot on one of the beds. Angel and I were sharing a room because of the oh-so-ironic undertakers convention in Sunnydale. There were only two rooms left at the motel when we checked in and there was no way either one of us was going to stay with Wesley. He was a regular Vegas act in his sleep. Snoring and talking and, on especially restless nights, walking. The first time we had to stay overnight somewhere on a case, Angel had come knocking on my door in the middle of the night, desperate and exhausted.

"Angel?"

"Girlfriend, Delia."

I grabbed my brush from my cosmetics bag and flopped on the bed next to him. "I know, all right? I know it doesn't matter that she's mean and thoughtless and would probably go back to being a vengeance demon in a second if she had the chance." I pulled the brush through my hair roughly, not caring I was creating more tangles than I was smoothing. "I know I haven't seen him in two years and I know he doesn't feel the same way about me, but it doesn't matter. Ouch!"

The brush was caught in an especially vicious knot and my frustrated pulling wasn't solving anything. Angel took the brush from my hands and carefully untangled it from my hair. When it was free, he began pulling it heavily through my hair, loosening the tangles just as he did last winter when I sprained my wrist struggling with a smelly Keverek demon.

"What am I going to do?"

"Cordelia, I'm the last person to be handing out advice when it comes to this stuff. You know you're in a tricky situation. All I can tell you is to be careful. I'd hate to have to kill Xander just when he's started to act like a human being."

He continued to brush my hair until it crackled with static and my head was wobbly with fatigue, then tucked me into the one of the beds. "Night, 'Delia."

"Night, Angel."

***

CHAPTER THREE

I really hate the PTB sometimes.

Apparently having me as their psychic circus monkey while I'm awake just wasn't entertaining enough for them. Oh, no. A few days after the whole unending vision thing, they had to start sending me visions in my sleep.

Which I don't see the point of at all. It only happens every couple of months and I don't even wake up, the headache and lingering fear my only clue it's not a standard bad dream. Well, that and the notes I find scrawled on every conceivable surface.

According to Angel and Wesley it could be quite the production.

So when I awoke to the cool weight of Angel pressed tightly against me, I knew before the pain even started that last night's vision had been a bad one. Though the room was dark, I kept my eyes closed and forced myself remember what I had seen.

//Dark. Not just dark, absence of light.//

//Pain everywhere. Hurts to move, hurts to breathe, hurts to think.//

//Voices in the background, chanting. Not chanting, no words.//

Except for the pain, there wasn't anything overtly threatening about what I saw, but it completely freaked me out. I opened my eyes in an attempt to get away from it. Despite the heavy blackout curtains we had covered the motel windows with, the room wasn't completely dark and I was thankful for that tiny bit of pre-dawn illumination. I stared at the thin line of gray light on the opposite wall until I could hear something besides my pulse. I let out the breath I had been holding in a little sigh and Angel tightened his grip on me. I relaxed even more, knowing he'd protect me from whatever was coming.

It was cool and comfortable in bed with Angel, his arm heavy across my waist and his chest unmoving against my back, but the visions were bothering me and I needed to be by myself to think. There was something I couldn't put my finger on, something I felt like I should know.

I eased myself out of Angel's embrace and fumbled into the bathroom to pull on my running clothes and rinse the dried tears off my face. I couldn't see the clock, but I knew the sun was almost up so it would be safe to venture out in Sunnydale. I don't know quite when it happened, but somehow I seem to have developed a certain affinity for the movements of the sun. Maybe it's unavoidable when your best friend is a creature of the night, but it's not a bad talent to have. It's saved Angel's undead ass more than once, I know that.

I left a note taped to the mirror for Angel in case he woke up while I was gone and stepped out onto the narrow walkway leading to the parking lot just as the sun cleared the horizon. Yeah, I'm good. I stretched for a few minutes then took off towards the heart of Sunnydale.

***

I hate running.

It's boring, hard on my knees, and reminds me of too many nights in too many dark alleys. And yet I just passed mile two, still going strong.

I hate running, but it gives me time to think. I know there are some people in this town who'd get a good laugh out of that, but it's the truth. In LA, I'm never alone. I'm either in the office with Angel and Wesley, at home with Dennis, or at an audition with hundreds of other actors. Running gives me a chance to get away from everyone for a couple of hours to do my own rendition of pensive face.

Topic: What the hell is up with these visions?

I meant what I told Giles. In my limited experience, this was totally out of the ordinary and frankly I was worried. Whenever the Powers start to get cute, bad things happen. Like Angel spending that missing day as a human but having to give it all up. He and I never really talked about that; I don't even know if he knows that I know, but I can't comprehend carrying something like that around. And I wouldn't want to. So I was worried.

And then there was the feeling I was overlooking something important, but I couldn't figure out what that could be. I had reviewed both visions countless times and had absolutely no idea what else I was supposed to see. Much as I hated to say it, I was just going to have to wait until I had another vision to get a grip on what was happening.

I looked around to get my bearings and was struck with a terrible thought.

Sunnydale at dawn wasn't a terrible place to be.

Sure, it was still a one Starbucks kind of town perched on the mouth of Hell, but sun hadn't had a chance to bake away the fog and no one, un-dead or alive, was around to bother me as I ran through the familiar streets. Even though I spent most of my Sunnydale life wishing I were somewhere else, I know I had it pretty easy when I lived here. If you don't count the frat house snake monsters and IRS agents, that is.

It was strange to be back in town after so long. It was almost as if nothing had changed in my absence. I half expected to see Harmony step out of the coffee shop as I ran by, a grande skinny mochachino in one hand and a Snickers in the other. Though she was a hell-beast and all, I was sorry to hear Xander had to stake her last year.

I completed my circuit of downtown and, on impulse headed towards the old high school. Willow told me they built a new school on the other side of town and that no one wanted to go near the shell of the old one. I guess self-preservation runs deeper than denial sometimes.

I hadn't been back to SHS since the night of graduation and my first glimpse of the wreckage stopped me cold. It was sort of awe-inspiring, the damage we wrought. I mean, we *blew up the high school* and no one was punished. There's enough of a rebel hiding inside me to get a real thrill from that. I really wanted to take a little tour of the interior, but there were warning signs up everywhere and I didn't really relish the thought of another close encounter with construction materials, so I stayed outside the cordon, jogging in place and remembering.

"Reliving your glory days, Cordy?" Xander sounded a little winded as I heard him walk up behind me.

"Yeah, because there's nothing glorious like school lunch and civics." I turned to smile at him as I finished my sentence and nearly swallowed my tongue.

Gucci, Prada, and all the saints.

I'd never claim to be immune to the allure of a hottie, but I'm generally not one to gawk either. I live in LA, after all. And I work with *Angel* for God's sake, but none of that prepared me for what I saw when I turned around. Xander had obviously been out running as well. His shorts and tee-shirt were worn and faded and the leather on his shoes was gray and creased, but he practically glowed with good health and exertion. The sun created a bright corona around his whole body and I wanted to bite his arms.

"Cordy?" Whoops, caught staring again.

"Sorry. The sun was in my eyes." A lame excuse, but he bought it and that's all that mattered. "What are you doing out and about at the crack of dawn?"

He shrugged and began to stretch, "Just trying to get some exercise before the day disappears. Care to join me?"

Temptation, thy name is Alexander. As a means to curb my compulsive desire to follow him all the way across Sunnydale, I thought about Anya and the hellish punishments she could devise for both of us. "I'd love to, but I should be getting back to the motel. I need to shower before facing the day."

"You ran all the way from the motel? That's a good three miles, I'm impressed." In unison we started off in the general direction of the motel.

"Well, being in shape really helps in my line of work." It was nice running with Xander. He was in really good shape and he automatically shortened his stride a little so I didn't have to sprint to keep up.

"I suppose all the aspiring young starlets in LA run at least six miles a day."

"Starlets? Oh, I was talking about working with Angel. But yeah, everyone in LA always seems to be working out."

We ran in companionable silence for a few blocks, enjoying the beginning of what looked to be a beautiful day. It was kind of strange, actually. Xander never used to be one to let silence go undisturbed for long. Then again, neither was I. Just when I thought we were going to run all the way back to the motel without another word, Xander reverted into 'ask first, think later' mode. "What *happened* to you?"

I know I should have been offended, and I guess I was a little, but I really was a different person than the one who left two years ago so I couldn't blame him for wondering. It was a long story, though, and I wasn't sure I wanted to get into it while we were jogging through Sunnydale, "I grew up, I guess."

He stopped running and grabbed my arm, bringing me to a halt next to him. "Cordelia, I want to know." His fingers unconsciously caressed the inside of my elbow as he put those damn puppy-dog eyes to work on me, the streets of Sunnydale fading into oblivion around us.

He was serious. I couldn't see any ulterior motive lurking on his face; he simply wanted to know what my life was like. There was something undeniably seductive about his interest, but inviting him into my world like that was begging for trouble, so I stayed with the simple version. "I ran into Angel pretty soon after I got to LA and just sort of fell into working for him."

I saw his frustration at my short answer and added a bit more information, "When his original Seer died, the visions got passed on to me."

I turned and started running again before I let his disappointment sway my resolve, "That's enough about my boring old life, though. What have you been up to?"

He ran in silence for about a block. I risked a look at him and saw he was thinking. Not just thinking, really puzzling something out. "Not a whole lot. I've kinda got a knack for construction, so I've been doing a lot of that. The first year was still rough though, with Buffy and Willow in school. After we hooked up that time, things finally began to fall into place."

I nearly tripped over my own feet, but when he turned and smiled at me, I knew he was up to something. You don't date someone for a year and not learn to recognize that expression. Wasn't he tricky? I give him part of the story, he gives me part of the story. Well, two can play at that game. "Isn't it nice when that happens? It took forever to work out a showering schedule with Angel, but when we finally did, everything went pretty smoothly."

Xander fell back a few steps as we reached the motel steps, digesting that bit of information, but caught up before I reached my door. "Are you going to be at Giles' later for the research party?"

"Of course. I'm meeting Willow and Tara for brunch, but I'll be over after that." I saw the curtain twitch a little in my room and knew Angel was awake and undoubtedly listening avidly.

"Great. I'll see you later, then."

"Bye." I opened the door a crack and squeezed through, careful not to let too much sun into the room. Angel was sitting at the rickety table, reading some musty book Wesley must have brought him.

"Did you have a nice run?" He didn't even look up as I began my cool down stretches.

"Yeah, I was visiting the old high school and I ran into Xander." Might as well get that information out in the open as soon as possible. After all, it's not like I had anything to hide.

"Really? How is Xander this morning?" Angel turned a page casually and finally glanced my way. I met his eyes as best I could when I was contorted like a pretzel.

"He's fine."

"That's good. And Anya?" Geez. He went in for the kill early in the game.

"I don't know. She wasn't there." I abandoned my stretching and began gathering everything I'd need to take a shower. "Where's Wesley? I thought he'd be here researching already."

Angel looked like he maybe wanted to continue harassing me, but went along with the new subject. "He stopped by earlier to drop some books off, but was meeting Giles for breakfast."

"Speaking of which, have you eaten yet?" It had taken quite a while, but Angel was finally a little more comfortable discussing his dietary needs with me.

"Yes, Mom. You packed a cooler for me, remember?"

Smart ass.

"At least one of us was thinking ahead. What are your plans for this bright and sunny day?" No easy sewer access meant no daytime excursions for Angel, but beggars can't be choosers and we were definitely begging the other night. I pulled my hair out of its loose braid and sat on the edge of one of the beds to take off my shoes and socks.

"Funny. Since I'm stuck here until the sun goes down, I think I'll nap and research."

"Wow. Tough life." I tossed my socks in the general direction of my suitcase and headed towards the bathroom.

When I exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam forty-five minutes later, Angel was in the same position at the table. "I'm having brunch with Willow and Tara, then researching with Giles, so I'll see you at later."

He looked up a little blankly from his book, "I'll be there as soon as the sun goes down. Cordelia? Be careful."

"Always." I put my handy stake into my purse, grabbed his car keys from the table, and blew him a kiss.

***

It was sort of disconcerting to be around so many people my own age. I didn't see many chipper students working with Angel. The restaurant where I was meeting Willow and Tara was on the edge of campus and was absolutely teeming with my peer group. Everyone was so...collegiate. I caught sight of Tara and Willow in the back corner of the room and skirted around a group of hung-over frat boys to get to their table.

"Hey guys, have you been here long?"

Tara scooted over a little, "No, we just got here a few minutes ago."

The waitress bustled over with coffee and menus and we spent the next few minutes discussing and ordering food. Once things had settled down a little, silence fell over the table. Tara shifted uncomfortably after a couple of minutes and Willow threw out one of her desperate conversational gambits.

"So, Cordelia, I'm surprised you're awake. I remember in high school it would have taken a small explosion to get you out of bed before noon on a Sunday."

Ah, the good old days. "Actually, I've been up since dawn. I went out running and met up with Xander."

Willow and Tara exchanged a look. "What?"

"It's just that Xander started running last year and tried for weeks to get one of us to run with him."

"And no one did?"

"Well, we all tried, but Tara and I weren't really into it."

"And Buffy ran circles around him, so he just started going out by himself." Tara poured more sugar into her coffee.

I pulled the paper ring off my napkin and started folding it. "What about Anya? Why doesn't she go with him."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, like Anya would exert herself for anything not directly related to her orgasms."

Coffee in the nasal passages is really not a comfortable sensation. I had forgotten about Willow's occasionally perfect comic timing. Tara passed me a handful of napkins and patted me on the back while she argued with Willow. "Anya's helped us out plenty of times."

"And when was that? When she misread the incantation that nearly killed Giles? Or how about the time she 'forgot' to tell us those Lantro demons were impervious to iron weapons? And let's not forget about the time she just up and ran away when those vampires had you cornered."

Oooh. I smelled gossip and knew from experience Willow was always ready to tear into whoever Xander was dating. "It's none of my business, but if she's such a - "

I paused. Tara seemed willing to give Anya the benefit of the doubt, so I didn't want to insult her straight out. Willow didn't have the same qualms, "Rapacious bitch?"

I conceded her point with a slight nod and moved on, "Why does Xander put up with her?"

Willow's guilty face made a sudden appearance. "Things were...confused when Buffy and I first started school and we neglected Xander for awhile. Anya came back to town and they just sort of latched on to each other. Even after things got better, she just kept hanging around."

You know, that is so like Buffy and Willow. For all their possessiveness of Xander, he was always the first thing to fall to the wayside when their lives life got a little hectic. "Well, I can see where Anya's devotion would have appealed to him, then."

Some of my old resentment must have leaked into my voice because Tara cocked her head and studied me as Willow continued. "And since it's kind of his fault she ended up stuck as a human, he took it upon himself to help her adjust. You know Xander, he's never one to leave a damsel in distress."

Wasn't that the truth? Noble Sir Xander, always ready take up arms in defense of a girl, whether she needed the help or not. The waitress arrived and I scooted my glass aside to make room for the plates she was setting down on the table. Once everything was in place, we all dug into our food.

I wasn't quite sure what to make of Xander and Anya now. They'd been together a long time. Did he care about her, or did he just feel guilty? Was it affection or convenience? My musings over pancakes and bacon were disturbed by Wesley's appearance at my elbow.

"Wesley, what are you doing here? I thought you were researching with Giles."

He snitched a piece of bacon off my plate, narrowly avoiding the tines of my fork. "We are, but we need to run back to Los Angeles to gather some research materials and Giles' car is rather…undependable."

Unasked, I pulled the keys to Angel's car keys out of my purse and held them out to Wesley. "So the research party is postponed?"

"We should be back by late afternoon, we'll all rendezvous then. Giles called Buffy and Xander, so they'll let everyone else know."

I slapped his questing hand away from my toast, "Did you call Angel?"

"Not yet. We were going to stop by there on the way out of town."

I waved away his plans. "Don't bother. I'll stop by the motel this afternoon. He was planning on reading and resting most of the day."

"All right then, I'll see you this afternoon. Willow, Tara." And then he was gone, sending me back to my circling thoughts. I halfheartedly listened to Willow and Tara discuss dietary options for 'Miss Kitty Fantastico,' but I kept ending up back at Xander.

I hate desperation, it clings to everything like some sort of stinky cloud, but I couldn't help myself. "I've been meaning to ask, what else is Xander up to these days? We talked some this morning and he mentioned working construction, but beyond that..."

Willow looked so happy and proud I thought she was going to float out of her seat. She opened her mouth, but closed it right away again. "It'll be better if you wait for Xander to tell you. He loves explaining it."

Dammit. If Angel could see this weak display of interrogation techniques, he'd boot me right out of the agency. I felt my patience draining away and knew I was on the edge of becoming a total bitch. "Look, all I -"

"Willow, we -" Tara's quiet voice over-lapped mine, but it was enough to put a stop to my imminent rant. She stopped talking and looked expectantly at me, but I motioned for her to continue. "We better get going if we don't want to be late."

Willow looked at her watch and threw some money on the table. "We're meeting with a local coven to see if they know of anything that's going on."

Tara and I added our money to hers and we all made our way out of the restaurant. The bell on the door jingled merrily as it slammed behind us. "Can we drop you off at the motel on our way out of town?"

"That would be great, thanks." I really wasn't looking forward to that trek in platform mules. I followed them across the parking lot, the early autumn heat making the tar stick to the bottoms of my shoes.

Tara's Civic wasn't the fanciest car on the road, but it was clean and seemed to run pretty well. She was a cautious driver and it was after one by the time we pulled into the motel parking lot. "Do you want us to pick you up on our way back?"

"That's all right. I think I'm going to changes shoes and walk around town for awhile."

I waved goodbye and Tara answered with a little beep of her horn as they headed back towards the road. I swear, she is the nicest person I've ever met. I'm surprised the Buffymonster hasn't eaten her alive. I turned to go up the stairs, but the glare off a windshield reminded me the day was there to enjoy. Despite the lateness of the season, the sun was hot and bright on my skin. I stayed in its light for a long moment, soaking up as much of its warmth and radiance as I could.

My body thoroughly heated, I bounded up the stairs, pulling the key out of my purse as I went. I opened the door a few inches and maneuvered through. Angel was in the middle of the room, just finishing up his Tai Chi routine. It's rare that I get to see this display, but I love catching him at it. There's just something satisfying about witnessing an act done with so much precision. I waited a few seconds until his movements ceased then sprang on him, surrounding him with my embrace, with the lingering warmth of the sun.

I don't think he knows quite what's going on when I do that, but it's my gift to him. A way for him to experience a little of the sun without turning into Angel flambé. His arms came up to capture the embrace and heat, his lungs expanding with a breath he didn't need as he inhaled the scent sun-warmed skin and I thought maybe he did know.

After a few minutes he stepped back and I flopped down on the edge of the bed, kicking my shoes across the room and collapsing back with a sigh.

"What are you doing back here? I thought you were going to research at Giles'."

"He and Wesley had to go to LA to pick up some research materials. They stopped by the diner and picked up your car keys about an hour ago."

He glanced at the completely un-sensible shoes I had tossed into the corner. "Did you walk all the way back here in those?"

"God, no. Willow and Tara gave me a ride on their way to talk to a coven about what's going on."

"How was brunch?" He let loose a gigantic yawn and fell onto the bed beside me. Poor guy, his circadian rhythms are always so messed up.

"It was nice. I really like Tara." I sat up, pushed Angel over onto his stomach, and began working some of the kinks out of his back. There's always a nice big one right between his shoulder blades. I call it Buffy.

He sighed a little and buried his head in the rumpled covers. "And how did your reconnaissance go?"

"Reconnaissance?" Was I supposed to have been doing something for real at brunch? "What was I supposed to have been reconnaissancing?"

"Reconnoitering."

"Whatever." I filed that away in the 'Strange Words' drawer.

"I just assumed you'd take advantage of the situation to dig for some intel on Xander and Anya. Maybe drop a few hints, see if you have any allies." He grunted as I dug my fingers into a knot under his tattoo, the truth of his statement hitting home.

"We're in the middle of some ultra-strange goings-on and I'm thinking about wedging myself between my ex-boyfriend and the vengeance demon he's dating. What's wrong with me?"

"In all fairness, she's an ex-vengeance demon." I was glad he could see the humor in the situation.

"It's not funny, Angel. What am I thinking?" I swung my leg over his hips for more leverage and worked out my frustrations on his back. "How can I be so stupid? This is the lamest thing I've ever done. I mean, Xander? I gave up everything for him and he cheated on me. I haven't even seen him in two years. I have a completely new life now, one that he has no part in."

"Cordelia, stop."

"I can't. My mind just keeps going around and around in circles."

"No, I mean *stop*. You're hurting me." He twisted out from under me and grabbed my hands. Whether to soothe me or stop me from doing any more damage, I wasn't sure. "Cordelia, there's nothing wrong with you and you're not stupid, so stop beating yourself up over this. No matter what happens, no matter what you choose, you know Wesley and I will be there for you."

I felt myself go all soft at the sentiment. "I know, Angel. This whole being-in-Sunnydale thing just has me confused. Between Xander and these visions, I don't know which end is up."

There wasn't much he could say to that, so he didn't say anything. Instead he squeezed my hands and blinked heavily at me from tired eyes.

"You need some more sleep before the circus starts up again tonight."

He shook his head a little. "I'll be fine. A little sleep deprivation won't kill me."

"Okay, you're cracking jokes, now I know you're exhausted."

"Cordelia -"

"Angel, I'm fine. Really." I pushed him towards the head of the bed and pulled the sheet over his shoulders. "I'm going to put on different shoes and walk around town until it's time to meet Giles and Wesley. A couple of hours mingling with the unwashed Sunnydale masses should be enough to cure me of this inconvenient nostalgia."

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on better walking shoes while Angel set the alarm clock for two hours before sunset. He settled deeper into the pillows as I picked up my purse and keys and turned off the table lamp.

"Be careful, Cordelia."

"Always, Angel. Sleep well."

***

CHAPTER FOUR

Well, it was good to know I wasn't mellowing with age.

All I had wanted to do was kill a couple of hours in downtown Sunnydale, window shopping and sipping a cappuccino. Two hours and three cups of black coffee later, I was ready to kill someone. Every five minutes, my quiet day was interrupted by someone tapping me on the shoulder or whispering when I wasn't quite out of earshot. While it was nice to know I hadn't been forgotten, it made me miss the anonymity of LA. I really liked being able to disappear into a crowd. Not in Sunnydale, though. I was getting ready to head towards Giles' place when Devon sauntered up to me, and by that time any positive changes I had made in my personality had been completely obliterated.

"Cordelia. I thought you were dead."

"Devon. I wished you were." I stalked off, leaving him staring at my back and undoubtedly calling me a hundred different kinds of bitch.

I wasn't very happy with myself; I shouldn't have snapped at Devon like that. I wasn't really mad at him, I was mad at the person I used to be. It's not like I ever forget what I was like, but when people approach me like I'm a rabid dog, it just really drives the point home. It's hard to come to grips with the fact I used to be a heinous bitch, but I'm working on it. Both the coming to grips part and the heinous bitch part. By the time I got to Giles' apartment, I had managed to calm down a little, which was good since Anya answered the door.

She didn't bother to greet me, just went back to watching TV on the couch. What the hell was she doing here without Xander? Giles must be thrilled with that turn of events. I shut the door behind me and both Giles and Wesley looked up from their books, immediately peppering me with questions.

"Cordelia, you said -"

"Have you talked -"

They both stopped and apologized to each other, motioning for the other to continue. Then they both started talking again. Another round of exceedingly British regrets followed. It was like watching the comedy stylings of Stuffy and Stuffier. "Okay, stop. Wesley, what were you saying?"

"I just wondered if you had spoken to Angel lately."

"Not since I left the motel this afternoon. Why?"

"I've been trying to call him, but he's not answering."

"He could be in the shower, you know how long that takes."

Wesley conceded with a nod and went back to whatever he was reading. "Giles?"

"Ah, yes. I've been able to find a few references to the phenomenon you seem to be experiencing. If you would be so kind as to read through the accounts?"

I joined them at the table and took one of the books he pushed my way. The pages were thick and tattered, the ink faded to a mere shadow in places. "Uh, Giles? My universal translator seems to be on the fritz, so I'm going to need the English version."

"Oh, yes of course. I have it here. Somewhere..." From the couch, I heard Anya mutter something I'm sure was nasty.

"Yes, here we are." Giles handed me a sheet of legal paper covered with his tiny handwriting. I put my purse on the floor and settled back in my chair for what I knew was going to be a long night.

I hadn't read more than three sentences when Anya's voice cut through my concentration. "Xander? Xander!"

Next to me, Giles sighed heavily and took his glasses off to rub his eyes. "Anya, I've asked you innumerable times not to shriek for Xander at the top of your lungs."

She ignored him and opened her mouth to yell again when the door to the guest room opened and Xander stepped out. "What, Anya? We're busy."

"How long do we have to stay here?"

From where I was sitting, I could see his hands clench around the banister. He looked away from her and right at me. He saw the books surrounding me and looked back at Anya, shaking his head in disgust. "You can leave whenever you want. Graham and I have to finish what we're working on and then we're researching with everyone else."

He turned and went back into the guest room, completely ignoring her huffy protests. The door closed with a sharp click and Anya turned to glare at me. I quickly slid my eyes back to the page and started reading again. Wow, trouble in paradise.

It took a couple of minutes to refocus on the issue at hand, but the memory of my visions soon took precedence over whatever inappropriate thoughts I may have been entertaining about Xander. Though it seemed Giles transferred every 'thee' and 'thine' into his neat handwriting, the account itself was pretty interesting. Back in the Middle Ages, this guy, Joeptha, had gotten called to be a Seer without ever knowing his Warrior, or anything about what was happening to him. He was basically at the mercy of the visions with no way of doing anything to counteract the pain and despair. Accused of witchcraft by the church, he was burned at the stake.

I handed the pages back to Giles and he looked at me hopefully. I didn't know what he expected me to say, so I said the first thing that sprang to mind. "I'm so glad I have Angel and Wesley."

Wesley looked up from his book and smiled, his eyes tearing up. He can be such a woman sometimes. I rolled my eyes a little, but smiled back. He cleared his throat and tried to recover. "Yes, well, this Joeptha did have an extraordinarily bad time of it."

I nodded my agreement, "I wonder what happened to his Warrior."

"Sadly, Warriors are not always long for this world." There was an unspoken moment of silence for everyone we'd known who'd fallen for the cause. Our quiet reflection was disturbed when Buffy and Riley threw open the front door and pulled a shrouded figure in behind them. Angel carefully peaked out from under his covering as the others moved to close the blinds in the room.

"Angel, what a surprise." Giles stood and joined the others in the living room.

"Buffy and Riley stopped by with transportation and tarps. How could I refuse?" Once the room was darkened sufficiently, Angel shrugged out of the tarp and began gathering it up.

I watched him idly for a few seconds before realizing something strange was going on. With the help of my not-so-gentle prodding, Angel had managed to take some baby steps in the empathy department, but only with me and Wesley, so it wasn't that big a surprise he didn't even notice Anya glaring at me like I was the bringer of the apocalypse. What was surprising was that he didn't notice the tension crawling all over Buffy and Riley. He should have been tipped off when Riley helped him fold up the tarp. They finished and Angel wandered over to where Wesley and I were sitting.

"Were you able to find anything?"

"Nothing specific regarding Cordelia's visions, but Giles and I were able to find what appear to be accounts of other Seers."

Angel looked intrigued and ready to pursue that line of questioning, but even with Buffy and Riley whisper fighting in the living room, there were more important things to think about. "I'm sure those will make for great rainy day reading, but something bad is coming and we have no idea what it is."

The absurdity of me being the voice of reason must have penetrated the research haze surrounding them. They looked at me sheepishly and simultaneously set down the books they had started to open. "Good. Did you tell Wesley -"

An excited shouting from upstairs interrupted me. The door to the guest room burst open, Xander and Graham nearly falling over each other as they thundered down the stairs. I couldn't tell what the hell they were talking about, but they kept hugging each other and yelling, so I assumed it was a good thing. Everyone else seemed to know what they were talking about because soon they were all cheering and congratulating Xander and Graham.

The three of us held back, not really a part of their group. I was dying to know what was going on, but would have dyed my hair blonde and appeared on UPN before asking in front of everyone. Eventually everything settled down and Giles pulled Buffy and Riley aside to fill them in on what he and Wesley had learned, leaving Anya to sulk on the couch behind Graham and Xander.

Angel and Wesley stepped up to offer their congratulations, seeming to know exactly what had been accomplished. I faked it the best I could, but I felt Xander gloating over his apparent victory in our little battle of wills.

Oh, you're far from winning this war, my friend. I poked Angel in the side. "Do you have your cell phone? Mine's dead and I want to call Dennis to remind him to water the plants." I shifted away from Xander a little and winked at Angel. His expression hardly changed, but I knew he'd play along with me for awhile.

Angel fished the phone out of his pocket. "You haven't called him yet? He must be lonely."

"I know, but things got kind of distracted here. Am I still number one on your speed dial?"

"I don't know, you programmed it."

I stuck my tongue out at him as my answering machine picked up on the other end of the line. "Hi, Dennis, it's me. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner, but things have gotten kind of crazy here. I'm not sure when I'll be home, but don't worry, Angel and Wesley are with me. Remember to water the plants in the living room. Oh, and I left some laundry hanging in the bathroom to dry, would you mind putting it away? You're the best. I'll call again in a couple of days. Miss you, bye."

I knew Xander wouldn't ask, even though he had to be dying, but I had seen Buffy perk up while I was on the phone and I knew her well enough to know her curiosity would get the better of her right about -

"Who's Dennis, Cordelia?"

"We live together." It was kind of satisfying to have four sets of eyes bug out at you. Buffy and Anya seemed ecstatic at my revelation, while Xander and, strangely enough, Riley looked sort of crushed.

Buffy beamed in my direction. "How long has this been going on?"

I thought for a moment. "I moved in with him, what? A year and a half ago?"

Angel nodded slightly, his eyes silently chastising me. Buffy didn't notice Angel's disapproval, though. "I'm so happy for you, Cordelia."

"I love having him there when I come home. Living alone can be so depressing."

Xander had managed to mask his feelings a little, but he still looked down. Again, not that Buffy noticed. "Tell us about him. What does he do? Where did you meet? All that good stuff."

Anya hopped off the couch to cuddle up to Xander. "Yeah, what's he like?"

As entertaining as my little game was, the triumph on Anya's face was a bit too much to take. I put on my best 'confused innocent' expression. "Well, he's dead. I live with his ghost. I'm sorry, wasn't I clear on that?"

The Sunnydale people just looked at me and Anya's face fell along with the hand she had wrapped around Xander's arm. "So you're not involved with anyone?"

"Not since Angel and Wesley made my last date cry." I had only agreed to go out with Jordan as a favor to Stacy. I never would have chosen such a baby for myself. He didn't last five minutes before bolting out of Angel's office like those Hellhounds from Senior Prom were after him.

"He didn't actually cry, Cordelia." Wesley still sounded absurdly proud of himself, but I ignored that.

"Whatever. He still takes off in the opposite direction whenever I see him."

"Can you blame us for being a little wary after what happened with Wilson?"

OK, the demon pregnancy? Totally not my fault. And totally not something we were going to discuss with everyone following our conversation like the crowd at a tennis match. "As fascinating a topic my love life is, don't we have more important things to be working on?"

"Cordelia's right." Riley was over whatever issues he'd been having and Buffy sat on the arm of his chair. "Buffy and I weren't able to find out anything today. Whatever is happening is a complete secret to poor old Willy."

I looked closer and realized Riley's clothes were a little dusty, as if he had been in a fight. Buffy must have taught him her version of questioning a snitch. Giles sat back down in his chair at the table to better sort through the jumble of papers. "Wesley and I consulted every book of prophecy we could find, including the rather incoherent ramblings of Nostradamus, but there are no portents of doom which fit Cordelia's vision."

"Well, I -" I was cut off by Willow and Tara's entrance. This was starting to get ridiculous.

"Those witches were a complete waste of time."

"They promised to help, Willow. You're just upset that warlock was hitting on you."

Willow hung her embroidered purse over the coat rack and pulled her laptop out of it's case, somehow managing to boot it up as she sat down on the floor near Angel. "First of all, here's me, liking girls. Secondly, he was disgusting."

Tara joined Willow on the floor, both of them suddenly realizing they had an audience. Tara developed a sudden interest in the hem of her jeans and Willow turned several shades of red. "Sorry we're late. Did we miss anything important?"

"No one seems to have found out anything of use." Giles let a handful of papers drop to the table. "There doesn't seem to be any other clues outside of Cordelia's vision."

"Visions. I had another one last night." Finally, jeez.

"Why didn't you tell us right away?"

I chose to ignore Buffy's outraged question. "I don't know how much help it'll be, though, it's just more of the same."

"At this point, anything could be useful." Giles gestured for me to continue.

I closed my eyes and let it all come back to me. "It isn't just dark, it's like light never existed. And the pain is everywhere, inside and out. There are voices in the background, but no words. It's not chanting either, it's not that rhythmic. It's just voices."

I rubbed at my arms as everyone pondered the new information. "I didn't wake up when it happened, but that's what I remember."

"You have visions in your sleep as well?" Giles seemed fascinated by this. "How do you know your recollection is accurate?"

"I'll wake up to find cryptic notes written on anything I left laying around. The notes generally jog my memory."

"Where are the notes from last night? Perhaps they contain some bit of information you've forgotten."

Huh. I hadn't even thought to look for any notes. "I didn't need them to remember this morning, so I didn't even look for them. Angel?"

He shook his head. "You didn't write anything down. You just sat up in bed and started crying. I thought - " Angel looked kind of self-conscious making that admission in front of everyone. "It reminded me of...before."

Considering every nightmare I had that didn't involve Angelus or a Golden Raspberry Award was about those two days of torture, it was understandable Angel had some bad associations too. I shook my head, though. "It wasn't like that. It's just the pain is worse than anything, even that incubating demon."

Once again, everyone seemed to be completely enthralled by how Angel and I related to each other. Anya especially was giving me a funny look and I was totally sick of it. "What?"

"Angel was in your room last night."

"Well, it's his room too." It was probably not a very nice thing to do to bait her like that.

She nodded as if I had confirmed something she already knew and stood up, walking towards the door. "I guess you had to support yourself some way after your dad lost all his money and went to prison."

Did she just call me a hooker?

Judging from everyone's expressions, I'd have to say yes. Angel didn't even vamp out he was so stunned. And before the initial shock faded, she was gone. The front door slammed shut and everyone turned to look at me in horror. The sheer craziness of her suggestion was mind-boggling. I couldn't even dredge up any real sense of hurt at the implication. "Wow. That was...wow."

Xander looked like he did when I fell through the floor. "I am so sorry, Cordy."

"Why? You didn't imply I was a prostitute." He winced and sat down on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You know, if she were still a demon, we could just kill her." Something about her casual delivery made me realize Willow had put a lot of thought into that proposal.

Giles cleared his throat. "Yes, well. If we could put aside planning Anya's demise for a moment, we need formulate some sort of plan. Whatever the Powers are trying to tell Cordelia sounds altogether unpleasant."

"Until we have an idea of exactly what it is we're dealing with, I fear our best option is to arm ourselves with as much information as we can find." I was proud of Wesley for the way he was handling himself here. It couldn't be easy being back among the people who were witness to your greatest defeat.

Apparently Buffy hadn't quite forgotten it though. "Wow. Pain and darkness, that'll really narrow down our search through the bad things library."

"That's enough, Buffy." Huh, apparently Farm Boy does have a backbone. "Wesley has a point, until we know more details, we'll have to make do with general information. We can also organize a wide scale patrol for tonight - there are enough discharged Initiative members around to do a good job of it. How does everyone feel about patrolling tonight?"

There were nods all around and Riley motioned for Buffy, Graham and Angel to join him around the breakfast nook. From the sectioned off map of the city he produced, I could tell he was used to planning this sort of mission. Willow and Tara joined Giles and Wesley at the table, turning pages with the ease of long years of practice. I grabbed a couple of books from Giles' shelves and settled in the corner of the couch opposite Xander. I dropped one of the heavy books on the cushions between us, but he didn't even flinch from his ruminations.

Oh, well. After two years of Angel and his moods, Xander's pee-wee pity party was hardly a blip on the radar. I felt bad for him, I really did. Dating Anya couldn't have been all flowers and kittens, but staying with her was ultimately his choice. I know it sounds callous, but I was trying to be strong.

Five minutes later, I couldn't stand it anymore. At least when Angel was miserable you could tell it was a way of life for him. The dark gloom settled over him easily and he accepted it. With Xander, it was kind of unnatural. Not that he didn't have any sort of hidden depths, but they weren't broody, lord of the manor depths. I knew it wasn't my job to cheer him up, but I had to do something.

The A-Team at the breakfast nook were still planning their assault on the demon community of Sunnydale and the four at the table seemed to be discussing the ins and outs of a successful exorcism, so the room wasn't dead silent. I closed my book and reached over to jostle his leg with my foot. "Hey."

He turned to look at me, but then went back to staring a hole in the ground. "Hey."

He may have changed in the last two years, but some things would always be the same. "Did I tell you I'll be appearing in the next Frederick's of Hollywood catalogue?"

I hadn't seen a person move so fast since, well, since never. "What?"

"Not really, but I got your attention." He smiled a little, but looked like he was going to turn back to the floor again. "So I'm dying here, when are you going to tell me what all that excitement was about this afternoon?"

A bit more life crept into his eyes, but he shrugged my question off. "It wasn't anything really."

"Come on, Xander. We can stop playing this little game." He didn't say anything, just looked at me. "I'm completely serious. It was fun while it lasted, but life is too short to waste time dancing around things."

He nodded slowly. "All right, but I expect to hear all the ugly details of Los Angeles in return."

"You got it." It was only fair, after all.

He turned towards me on the couch, all moping forgotten. Leaning forward, he bent one leg and rested his arm along the back of the couch. "Graham and I just finished putting the final touches on our computer game. If everything goes the way we want it to, it should be in stores by the end of the year."

"You and Graham designed a computer game? That is so great." I never would have pictured Xander as a gaming mogul, but he was so excited about it all I couldn't help but get caught up in his enthusiasm.

"Well, Giles helped me with some of the details, but I wrote the story and plotted out the mythology. Graham did most of the computer stuff. Willow helped him out whenever she could, but she was pretty busy this year with school, so it was mostly him."

Never in a million years would I have thought of it, but designing games could very well be what Xander was born to do. "What gave you the idea?"

His eyes kind of glazed over as he remembered something obviously pretty good. I hope it wasn't some terrible, post-quickie flash of brilliance. "One day last winter it was kind of slow around demon central, so Graham and I were just hanging out, having a Tekken Tag tournament on his new Playstation when it hit me."

He paused for dramatic effect, but I couldn't let that opening pass. "The fact that you were 19 and still playing video games, thus making you an enormous nerd?"

He gave me his best 'you're so slow' look. "No. The fact that the adventures of Buffy and her gang of Slayerettes would make a great computer game."

I felt my eyes widen a little. He was a genius.

"Of course, I had to change a lot of the details to protect everyone. And Giles looked through everything to make sure we wouldn't accidentally raise some sort of demon by accident, but I think it'll be a hit."

I started to congratulate him again when he stopped me.

"Wait, you haven't heard the best part yet." He leaned back against the arm of the couch. "We finished a rough version a couple months back and within days we had a call from an investor who wanted to talk to us about product development. He came down to take a look at the game and was really into it. He told us if the finished game was as good as seemed, he'd help us launch it"

I was pretty close to speechless. The amount of thought and effort he put into this was amazing. I just wanted to reach over and give him a big hug, but I managed to hold off. "I'm so proud of you, Xander. I can't imagine how much work you put into this."

He shrugged a little. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done, except for slaying. And David was talking about tee shirts, action figures, Happy Meal tie-ins, the whole deal."

I lost him for a second. "David?"

"David Nabbit, our investor."

"David Nabbit, one of the richest men in California?" I casually looked around the room and caught Angel's eye. He put his finger to his lips in a quick, our-little-secret kind of gesture.

"Yeah. He's really strange. Fabulously wealthy, but strange." Xander didn't seem to notice our exchange.

"That's what I've heard." Xander probably only realized a small percentage of the strangeness. I wonder if Nabbit went back to that demon brothel after the blackmail threat.

"Hey, Cordelia?" Angel waved to get my attention and he had that rarely seen devious look in his eyes. "How long until the sun sets completely?"

"Eight and a half minutes." My answer was automatic and had people looking at me strangely again. Riley pulled out his wallet and handed ten dollars over to Angel.

That's nice, betting on my freakish skills. Well, if that's how he wants to play...I raised my eyebrow at him and held out my hand. "Half."

"Half?" I don't think he sounded this outraged when Wolfram and Hart tried to have Wesley deported. "Who are you? My agent?"

"Fine. I'll remember this the next time *someone* is out tracking some random force of evil and forgets he turns into a crispy critter at daybreak."

"Fine." He dug into his pocket, making change as he walked towards me.

I tucked the five dollar bill into my pants pocket and smiled at him. "Thank you."

"Brat."

"Hey! Play nice." I scooted down on the couch to kick him in the hip as he walked away. I heard him sigh and knew he was rolling his eyes at my cavalier treatment of his gloomy dignity.

Xander looked like he'd just watched aliens land and declare everyday was kilt day. "What? Why does everyone keep looking at me like that?"

He shook his head a little to clear it. "You and I can't get to your turn at full disclosure fast enough."

I guess I keep forgetting everyone in Sunnydale knows Angel only as Buffy's mopey undead boyfriend, one half of the most star-crossed couple ever. They don't know what a goofy dork he can be sometimes. God, they've never even seen him dance. I wish I were so lucky.

"Riley, it's nearly dark. What sort of strategy do you have for tonight's patrol?" At Giles' question, Riley motioned everyone into the living room and had Willow and Tara hold up the map.

"I've mobilized the remaining Initiative members and they have been assigned patrols in the areas of the city generally not plagued by much demon activity." Dear God, he even had a laser pointer. How could Buffy live with this? But she was gazing at him like he was a combination of Brad Pitt and Ben Affleck, so I guess she enjoyed the stodginess.

"I've broken us into three teams. I figure we should be able to cover all the trouble spots that way. Buffy, Giles, and Xander will take the graveyards. Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia can cover the old high school and the Bronze. Graham, Willow, Tara, and I will check out the main sewer access tunnels. Every group has at least one cell phone, so if you find anything, call and we'll all rendezvous back here. Any questions?"

Wow. He was actually pretty good at that command thing. And his plan wasn't half bad, either.

I just hope someone finds something useful.

***

That was the most useless patrol I'd ever been on.

The old high school was completely deserted and there were only a couple vamps hanging around the Bronze waiting to get dusted. Giles and Willow called to report the same sort of thing in the graveyards and tunnels.

I was starting to think there was something wrong with me. Yeah, I can see myself in my therapist's office right now, "No, I'm only hallucinating *now*. The visions *used* to come true. Yes, I still work for the vampire who's trying to save the world."

I'm almost glad I can't afford to go to therapy anymore.

I followed Angel up the stairs to our room, feeling pretty crabby with the Powers, whatever evil it was I couldn't quite see, and the world in general. So when he unlocked the door, I pushed past him and flopped face down on the bed to feel sorry for myself.

My silent self-pity lasted about three seconds. I heard Angel sit on the other bed and I turned my head towards him. "Well, that was completely lame."

He shrugged off my conclusion. "We killed some demons, you can't ask for much more."

Had he gotten a shipment of crack-addled blood? "Can't ask for more?" I pushed myself up onto my elbows. "How about some sort of clue what my visions are about?"

"I'm not too worried about that. The Powers have never let us down before. We'll get the information in time to act." He studied my face for a second. I hate it when he does that sometimes. It's like he can see inside me. "You were getting pretty cozy with Xander on the couch."

"I tried not to." I could tell he didn't exactly believe me. "Really. I mean, I understand better than anyone else what's going on with Anya, but when he's right there I forget everything. I forget all the reasons we broke up. I forget all the reasons we can't be together. I forget everything but him."

Angel was looking sort of shocked and I was a little ashamed of myself. Who was I to lecture to him on temptation and yearning? "I know it's nothing like it is for you and Buffy, but -"

"No. No, that's exactly what it's like. You're only missing the end of the world overtones."

A heavy silence descended on our crappy motel room as we contemplated that. Our lives really sucked sometimes. There was nothing more frustrating than wanting something you couldn't have and I wasn't all that used to being thwarted, despite my changed circumstances the past couple of years.

Having decades to get used to it, Angel shook off the feeling before I did. "So what were you and Xander talking about anyway?"

"He was just telling me what he's been up to lately, career-wise." I rolled into a sitting position and crossed my arms. "Speaking of which, you have some explaining to do."

Again with the shrugging. "Willow told me what Xander was working on, and I just mentioned it to David."

Whatever sort of funk I had been in dissolved into vaguely warm pride. "You're a good person."

As always, Angel got a vaguely panicked look at that. "I'm not a person, let alone a good one."

"Just shut up and take the compliment, all right? God, some people." I held up my hand, "Sorry. Some not-people."

That got a laugh out of him and he looked at his watch as I dropped back onto the bed and yawned. "Why don't you get some sleep? Buffy and Riley were going to do one last patrol and I think I'll join them."

"Are you sure you want to do that? What if 'patrolling' is their code word for other activities?" OK, that probably wasn't the nicest thing to say, but a valid concern I think.

Apparently, Angel took it the right way. "I hope not. Riley asked me to join them."

I tried not to picture that appalling scenario and threw a pillow at his head. I hauled myself off the bed and dug through the pile of clothes around my suitcase for my pajamas as Angel began restocking his patrolling supplies. He finished before I did and I re-promised myself I'd be neater the next time we traveled.

"Night, Delia. Don't wait up."

"Be careful, Angel."

"Always." And then he was gone.

I temporarily abandoned the search for my pajamas and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I closed the door halfway to grab the towel I know I left hanging on the knob, but found my pjs instead. Angel must have picked them up. I honestly don't know how he can stand to stay with me. I'm not this messy at home - Dennis would pitch a complete drama queen fit - but when I'm away, I get a little lazy.

I finished up my whole cleansing/toning/moisturizing process and changed for bed. Even though it was well after midnight and I was exhausted, I wasn't sure I'd be able to sleep. Guilt had a way of doing that to me. I really shouldn't have toyed with Anya the way I did. Despite my complete hatred of her on a personal level, I know what it's like to have to share Xander with Buffy and Willow. I can't imagine what it would have been like if an ex-girlfriend had come on the scene. Jealousy is an ugly, ugly emotion.

Not that it excuses her behavior at all. Calling me a whore in front of everyone probably wasn't the best move she could have made. Willow seemed entirely serious about her re-demoning plan and no one else seemed that opposed to it either. Unless she starts behaving herself, I'm afraid Anya's not long for the Scooby Gang.

I slid under the covers and tried to forget about the whole mess. Angel was going to be back in a couple of hours and would give me Lecture No. 72-A, "A Tired Cordy is a Cranky Cordy," if I were still awake.

Sometimes I miss emotionally detached Angel.

***

CHAPTER FIVE

Under the swollen gray sky, the path through the forest was wide and barren. Though it showed signs of use, we hadn't seen another soul the entire time we'd been walking. Dark shapes crashed through the undergrowth, but I knew better than to look away from our path.

The towering branches on either side of us were dark and heavy, but did nothing to shield us from the constant, drenching downpour. Even clad in Angel's coat, my body was cold and tired from fighting the wind and the rain. On my right, Angel kept up a constant pace despite being completely soaked. We had been walking through the forest for what felt like years, but I trusted him to lead us to home.

On my left, Wesley clung stubbornly to the skeleton of his umbrella and pulled his tweed jacket closed at his throat. He caught me looking at him and raised his head proudly, "The day an Englishman needs more than an umbrella and tweed for a piddling rain like this is the day the sun sets on the Empire."

"Look." Angel stopped walking and pointed towards the horizon. In the distance, there was a line in the sky where the storm clouds finally ended. It was far away, but it was the first time there was even the slightest break in the weather.

We started walking towards the glowing strip of blue sky, our pace quickening despite the renewed fury of the storm. Every step we took seemed to increase its strength and power. An especially fierce gust of wind turned Wesley's useless umbrella inside out and tore it out of his grasp. Without a backwards look, he put his head down and forged ahead.

I didn't think it possible, but the sky got even darker and we automatically joined hands to keep track of each other in the gloom. The rain sheeted down and the sky was nearly split in two by the biggest bolt of lightening I've ever seen. The accompanying crash of thunder shook the ground and reverberated through the trees for several long seconds.

I tightened the hold I had on my friends and held my head steady against the storm, my eyes focused on the slowly expanding patch of clear sky. Eventually, the thunder and lightening moved past us, the rain easing and becoming warmer. As the clouds broke up, tiny, distinct shafts of sunlight began to filter through. We turned in a slow circle, looking for someplace safe for Angel, but the forest sunk into the ground as we watched, leaving a lush green meadow in its place.

I struggled with the buttons on Angel's coat to give him some kind of cover, but the material was heavy with rain and my fingers numb with cold. Wesley's hands joined mine, but the buttons wouldn't separate and the patches of sun were slowly creeping towards us. Angel's hand covered ours, stopping our frantic movements. He shook his head slowly and smiled.

"You can't fight fate."

He held out his other hand and one of the shafts of sunlight lifted from the ground to meet him. It slid over his hand like a paintbrush, bringing color to his normally pallid skin. That first touch seemed to trigger a chain reaction within the other beams of light. They became like living things, twining and snaking around as they erased every shadow from the landscape and from us. Their gentle warmth was a relief after the cold of the storm so I raised my face to the sky and closed my eyes.

I came awake gradually, the brightness of my dream slowly giving way to the cool darkness of our motel room. Even though I was facing the drafty wall, I could still feel the warmth of the phantom sun on my face.

Weird.

I flopped over onto my other side to look at the clock and was shocked to discover it was after eight. I had planned on going running again this morning, and *not* because I thought I might run into Xander, but it was way too late for that now.

I shot a quick check of the other bed and was relieved to see a lump beneath the covers. I hadn't heard Angel come in last night and was glad he made it back okay. I stretched until my feet hung off the end of the bed, then rolled off of it and headed towards the bathroom.

I stumbled a little over the pants Angel had left near the foot of his bed. It must have been a rough night of slaying; he wouldn't leave his clothes on the floor unless he was completely exhausted. I turned on the bathroom light and used the illumination to fold Angel's crumpled clothes and put them on the table next to his pile of research books.

I dug through my suitcase for clean clothes and realized I was going to have to hit the laundromat if we didn't start to discover some useful information. I admit I have a tendency to over-pack, but I had no idea when this vision would resolve itself. I found an acceptable outfit and, despite the noise and glaring fluorescent light coming from the open bathroom door, Angel didn't even stir. Poor guy.

I closed the bathroom door quietly behind me and pushed Angel's various hair products out of the way to set my clothes on the counter. It wasn't until I looked up that I saw the note taped to the mirror, my name written in Angel's distinctive hand.

Huh.

They must have discovered something on patrol last night - Angel usually doesn't like to leave notes for anyone. I don't know why, it's one of his weird little quirks I haven't figured out yet.

I pulled the note away from the mirror and rubbed the rich paper between my fingers. It was thick and soft, the black ink of my name feathering a little at its edges. There was a name for this kind of paper; Angel told me once and I filed it away in the same place that now held 'reconnoitering.' I thought for a second, tapping the edge against my chin.

Vellum, that's what it was.

I felt absurdly proud of myself for remembering, but I liked learning new things and I liked showing Angel and Wesley I actually listened to them. I flipped open the note, fully expecting to find a demon description or kill count from the previous night.

Cordelia -

The sun rising in the distance made me think of you, but I didn't want to wake you. Have a nice day and say hello to Xander for me.

A.

Remember what I said about missing emotionally detached Angel? Well, I lied. Knowing he loved me was the best feeling in the world. I didn't need to look in the mirror to know I had a goofy, watery smile on my face. I sniffled back the tears burning the back of my throat and put the note in the pocket of my pants to protect it.

I turned on the hot water in the shower as I brushed my teeth, savoring the thick cloud of steam that formed around me. Teeth minty clean, I pulled off my pajamas, remembering to fold them this time, and stepped into the shower.

I love showering. I love the steam and the heat and the sensation of being completely clean. That probably says something about me as a person, but I don't really care. I was tempted to linger under the warm spray, but I knew Angel's blood supply had to be getting low, so a little field trip to the butcher shop was in order. I hurried through my shower and pulled on the clothes I brought into the bathroom with me. I didn't feel like bothering with my whole routine, so I settled for pulling my hair back into a thick braid and putting on some mascara and lip gloss.

Satisfied no one would run screaming from my appearance, I left the bathroom and sat down on the edge of my bed to pull on my shoes. I scrawled Angel a quick note, letting him know I'd be back later in the day, turned out the bathroom light, opened the door a crack, and squeezed through into the bright morning. I turned to make sure the door was locked and nearly ran into Wesley.

"Cordelia. I was just coming to see if you wanted to have breakfast."

God bless Wesley and his bottomless stomach. I hooked my hand through his arm and pulled him towards the stairs. "Are you buying?"

***

Wesley set his fork on the edge of his plate and sat back in his chair, looking at my untouched toast. "Are you going to finish that?"

I swear, he should be as big as a house the way he eats. I pushed the toast towards him and tried to think of something to distract him from his recitation of horrors. Noticing Anya's behavior towards me, he apparently took it upon himself to catalogue some of Anyanka's greatest hits. She wasn't terribly creative, but she was thorough, I had to give her that. "So do you have any plans for today? Besides researching, I mean."

"Giles and I are going to try calling on some old friends. They may very well have sources we are unable to access given our current...estrangement with the Council."

"Do you miss being a Watcher?" Wesley had changed a lot since first coming to Sunnydale, for the better, I thought, but we had never really discussed his separation from the Council.

He got quiet for a long time and I thought maybe tactless Cordy had made an unplanned cameo. "I'm sorry, Wesley. I shouldn't have -"

"Oh, no. Cordelia, I was just thinking. Remembering, really." He put down the unfinished toast and folded his hands on the table.

"I loved being a Watcher, even before I knew exactly what it meant. I loved the security it gave me. When I was called to Sunnydale, it was the happiest moment of my life. I, Wesley Wyndam-Price, was to be Watcher on the Hellmouth."

He didn't have to say anything about his reception from the Slayers and Giles, I was there, I clearly remembered how they treated him. He seemed to have come to terms with it, though. "I thought the Council had prepared me for active duty, but they hadn't. I know for a fact most of them haven't even seen a demon in close to twenty years. And none of them ever trained a Slayer who was called. They have no idea what it's like in the field. What it's like know the fate of the Slayer and the world rests on your shoulders."

He shook his head a little. "I loved being a Watcher, but I'm doing more for the cause with Angel than I ever would have with the Council."

He broke eye contact and began playing with the salt shaker. "And I hold them partially responsible for Faith. If I hadn't been so - "

"Wesley, we went through this last year. There wasn't much you could do once Faith went completely psycho. Besides, Angel and the State of California think there's hope for her." I don't know that I'll ever feel safe around her, but Angel is confident she won't give in to the Dark Side, so we'll have to see.

As always, the topic of Faith pretty much killed the conversation and there was a moment of silence as we tried to switch gears to something a little less issue-laden. The waitress dropped the check on the table, startling both of us. Wesley dropped a handful of money on the table and slid out of the booth. "With Buffy and the rest in class today, would you care to research with me and Giles?"

Not that the researching had done any good so far. "Fun as that sounds, Angel's running low on red liquid goodness, so I was going to restock for him, but I'll stop by when I'm done?"

He nodded his approval and guided me through the restaurant and to the car with a gentle hand on the small of my back.

***

I really don't mind buying blood for Angel. Once I got over the initial ickiness of the whole process, it was pretty much the same as picking up Thai for Wesley. Sure, I may get the occasional weird look, but in the grand scheme of things, I guess that doesn't matter too much.

The guy behind the counter of 'Mike's Meats and More' didn't even bat an eye at my request. We were in Sunnydale, though, so I suppose a few of pints of blood hardly even registered on the freaky scale. Still, it was nice to engage in a hassle free transaction, so I let him keep the change from the twenty I paid with.

With that sort of karma working for me, it was kind of a surprise when a furry hand shot out of a dark alley and dragged me off the street.

The Moebin demon is covered in ratty black fur and stands well over six feet tall with a thick crystal horn protruding from its heavy brow. Its shifty eyes are pure black and pushed back into its skull. Like most nasty creatures, it has a nearly visible stench wafting off of it. It kind of reminds me of a monkey.

In whatever dead language its name originates from, the word 'moebin' means 'bride killer.' It got the name from its habit of snatching virgins away in broad daylight, usually on their wedding day. And not just any old virgins either, only the purest of the pure can tempt them. According to Wesley, most modern Moebin are found hanging around convents and Star Trek conventions.

So I really don't know why that smelly hand reached out and grabbed me. Again.

The first time it happened was about eight months ago. I had been playing the bait in an operation to flush out a nest of vampires from one of the seedier neighborhoods in LA. I really hate playing that role, but apparently I'm a tastier treat than either Angel or Wesley. That night, though, I was ambushed by something stinky and hairy before I could even get near the nest.

After it had me safely tucked away, the Moebin just looked at me, more baffled than Aura at a Mensa convention. I had *no* idea what its damage was. But I guess if I had grabbed me, thinking I was a virgin, I'd be bewildered too. The demon's confusion gave Angel enough time to find me and kill it.

Luckily, I had been paying attention.

So when the Sunnydale Moebin paused and looked at me stupidly, I reached up, grabbed the short crystal horn protruding from its forehead, and pulled as hard as I could. It came free with a wet pop and the Moebin disappeared in a glittery cloud. I tucked the horn into my purse, assuming Angel or Wesley would know how to dispose of it, and brushed off the sparkly remains as best I could.

Body glitter is *so* 1998.

I looked around, but no one seemed to have noticed my disappearance, so I ducked back out of the alley and rejoined the pedestrians on the sidewalk. Again, thanks to the magic of Sunnydale denial, a woman stepping out of a dark alley wasn't anything to get riled up about.

I was going to have to get Wesley to look into this Moebin thing for me. Considering I wasn't a virgin and hadn't been for quite awhile, two attacks in less than a year was troubling. If this was a side effect from the damn visions, the Powers had some heavy-duty explaining to do.

Stupid supernatural entities.

Distracted by such thoughts, I wasn't exactly paying attention to my surroundings as I walked back to the motel with Angel's dinner. Not the smartest move, I know, but I had just warded off one demonic attack, what were the chances of there being another one?

I have to say this for being Angel's girl Friday, my reflexes have improved quite a bit. When the hand dropped on my shoulder from behind, I didn't even think about what I was doing, I just turned around and took a swing at whatever evil creature was accosting me.

On a busy street.

In the middle of the day.

I tried to pull my punch, I swear I did, but the split second it took me to realize my mistake was a split second too long. Xander stumbled back a couple of steps as I clipped his jaw with my fist.

Whoops.

"What's wrong with you?" I was all set to apologize, but his tone sent me back into the habit of arguing for the sake of arguing.

"Me? What's wrong with you? Don't you know any better than to sneak up on a person?"

He stopped gingerly poking at his jaw to glare at me. "Sneak? I've been trying to get your attention for two blocks."

Oh.

"And since when are you all T2 Sarah Connor?" He pressed his jaw again and winced.

"LA's a rough town." I reached up to touch his jaw and he flinched away from me. "Don't be such a baby. I hardly hit you at all."

He relented and I turned his face towards the sun so I could see the area better. There wasn't even that much to see, just a small pink splotch that probably wouldn't even bruise. His skin was soft under my hand and despite my best intentions, my assessing touch became a caress.

"Cordelia?" Despite the sun shining in his face, his eyes widened a little and his hand came up to cover mine. All sorts of warning bells began sounding in my head.

I took a step back and slid my hand out from under his. This was no good at all. Anya was going to track me down and feed my liver to a dog. She knew how, she'd done it before. Xander looked confused and a little hurt that I moved back, but there was no way I was going to do that to myself. "So what are you doing this morning?"

He put his hands in his pockets and I could see his shoulders slump as he shrugged. "Not a lot, just driving around. You?"

"I had breakfast with Wesley and ran an errand, now I'm headed back to the motel." There was an awkward pau