Radiance by Loki

Author's Note: Can we just, for the sake of fiction, imagine that Cordy found out about her glowy powers earlier on? I kinda needed them for the story. Thanks!

Summary: When Cordelia and Angel head back to Sunnydale, the secrets just keep rolling on out.

Angel looked away from the road long enough to roll his eyes at Cordelia. "No," he explained, "not yet. But her magic was getting that way."

"So this is like those one-month 'Yay for Abstinence' parties people throw for alcoholics?"

"Cause, 'cause, there's nothing magical about alcohol that we know of. Is there? Except for its propensity to turn balding accountants into hotties?"

"Thank God," muttered Cordelia, plucking at her seat belt. "If I have to deal with Sunnydale, I need a helping Cosmopolitan hand. Y'know?"

Angel was silent for a second, before a smile crept across his face. "I really do," he admitted, and they both snickered.

They drove in silence for a while, Cordelia humming tunelessly along with the radio.

Cordelia narrowed her eyes. "Look, I know you're all mama-bear about this car, but I've driven it heaps of times. Times you don't know about, even. Until now," she finished, a shameless grin crossing her face. "Come on!"

"Being a passenger. I know." She beamed her million dollar smile at him. "Time to relinquish some control, big guy. Pull over."

Angel sighed. She had used That Smile. The one that made his chest hurt. As the car drew smoothly to a halt at the edge of the freeway, the vampire wondered for the nine thousandth time exactly when it was that Cordelia Chase had become the boss of him.

Xander chuckled. "Because now that our lives are relatively normal, this is our comeuppance?"

Buffy sighed. "Oh yeah. Our uppance has definitely come. God, I can't deal with this right now."

"Sorry. Angel...he's always giving you the wiggins. Time to rise both above and beyond."

"Besides," added Anya from the depths of the refrigerator, "this is my chance to invite them to the wedding."

"No!" Buffy and Xander chorused in panic, before Buffy grinned wickedly at her friend.

Anya emerged from the fridge, holding something yellow in her hand. "I don't understand this concept," she said. "If you really couldn't believe it's not butter, why did you buy it?"

Outside the Summers residence, a long black convertible sat shrouded in darkness. Inside it, Angel and Cordelia were looking at each other. Every now and again, one of them would cast a trepidation-filled glance at the house, then return their gaze to their companion.

Finally Cordelia took a deep breath. "Well, it's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye, right?"

They sat in silence for a minute longer, then Cordelia steeled herself and opened the car door. Angel stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"No, you agreed and I'm going along with you half-heartedly." She gave him a pointed look. "I still think they deserve to know."

"Cordy, I'm not ready to discuss him with Buffy. It'll bring up too many questions."

"Oh yeah. Of the how, why, and blonde variety." Cordelia looked at Angel sharply. "Fine. I won't mention him on purpose, but if I accidentally slip...Connor's your dentist." She grinned wickedly. "Or your new boyfriend."

The Slayer felt the jolt right to her toes. "Eep." Raising her voice, she shouted, "Thanks!" and beat a hasty retreat back into the kitchen.

Buffy squared her shoulders, game face squarely in place. "Yeah. Nothing like total fear to spice up your evening, right?"

Willow scrunched up her nose. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think. With Tara not coming..."

"Oh, there was reaching," said Willow, sadness in her eyes. "Just not the kind of reaching that led to the agreeing to come."

"S'okay. What with the rejection and the...rejection, I just kinda called everybody in my address book. Except for Amy. Sorry."

"Will, you have every right to feel good tonight. You've earned it. And if you want them here...then I want them here."

Buffy grimaced. "No. Its way weird. But I can pretend. And goshdarnit, I will, because you're my best friend and I love you."

Buffy paled. "And I'll just be...over here for a while." She disappeared down the basement steps. Willow watched her go with a sigh.

"Angel!" Dawn raced down the stairs and threw herself at the vampire, her sheer speed driving him a few steps backward.

Angel caught her and swung her around, the rarest of huge smiles on his face. "Hey, Dawnie. Long time."

"Not by your life-span, I s'pose," she countered, hugging him. "How are you? What's the what? Got the skinny on the big LA evil?"

Cordelia broke into one of her biggest smiles. "I'd be pretty offended if I'm not."

"My God," Cordelia exclaimed as she drew away. "You're like a beanstalk or something. A Dawnstalk. This is incredible, you're huge. Buffy, she's hu-" Cordelia broke off. "Oh. Buffy."

Unnoticed by the happy trio on the porch, Buffy had sidled nervously into the doorway. She was watching the reunion with a small smile on her face.

"It's...good. I'm good. We're good." He closed his eyes briefly. "You look...good. Uh..."

Buffy chuckled, the ice broken. With Angel being such a dork, it was hard to hold onto the fear. "It's good to see you too, Angel." She crossed to the vampire and kissed him swiftly on the cheek. "I'm happy you could come. Both of you," she said, turning to Cordelia.

The two girls eyed each other for a moment, before Cordelia stepped uncertainly forward.

"I'm glad to see you," she said nervously. "And I'm so glad you're not...y'know, dead. Any more."

"Probably, but let's do it anyway," Buffy said, and embraced the taller girl warmly. "Thanks for being here for Will. Let's go inside."

An hour or so later, Xander watched as Angel and Cordelia hugged Dawn goodbye. Protesting, Dawn had been packed off to a friend's for the evening, under strict instructions not to return until after daybreak. She had begged to be allowed to stay, but Buffy was unmoved. There was no way Dawn was coming to the Bronze, and no way she would be left in the house alone. When her first attempt had failed, she had asked to stay with Spike.

A strangely pale Buffy had said that Spike was out of town and not expected back for a few days. So, whining all the way, Dawn had made her goodbyes and headed for the car waiting outside.

It was funny, thought Xander darkly, how Angel had not allowed himself to be out of arm's reach of Cordelia all evening. He seated himself next to her at dinner and watched her eat, never took his eyes off her as she regaled the group with tales of LA, or when they told their own stories in turn, followed her to the living room like a black leather cloud, hovered as she chose her sofa position, then settled next to her. If Xander hadn't known better, he would have sworn the big guy was acting kind of the way he had around...Buffy.

After a half-hour brood session that rivaled one of Angel's, Xander decided to just pretend he hadn't noticed anything. At all. Much, much better for all concerned.

"So, Willow," said Cordelia, stretching languorously, "no more with the bad mojo, huh? Good for you."

"Thanks, Cordy," Willow smiled. "It's been difficult, not to mention the kind of fun that isn't."

"If it's okay to ask...does it hurt?" asked Angel curiously. "Withdrawal, I mean?"

"It's okay. A little at first," admitted Willow. "But the worst part is-" She broke off, staring at her feet.

"No, it isn't, Will," said Xander in exasperation. "Anya, we've talked about this kind of stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Anya inquired. "Willow started a sentence and didn't finish it. It's frustrating. Like that television show you always watch where they tell you about the next episode, but just when something interesting happens they stop and say 'Next time on an all new Dawson's Creek.'"

Xander paled. Buffy's lips twitched and Cordelia let out a small snort of laughter.

"Ahn," muttered Xander, "shameful secrets not so secret when you announce them loudly to all."

Buffy bit back a smile. "So what is happening in the heady world of Pacey and Joey these days, Xander?"

"I don't get it," said Angel, and Cordelia patted his arm, pulling a face at Buffy.

Xander smiled in relief. "Angel, there's my guy! Let's go over here and talk about manly stuff. Broken any bones lately? How's your drywall?"

"Okay! Time for patrol, not to mention a subject change," interrupted Buffy. "I wanna get in a quick one before the Bronze. Angel, I set up the basement for you if you want to dump your stuff down there. Guaranteed flood-free. Cordelia, you can take Dawn's room if you don't mind the mess."

"Duly noted," replied her fiancée. "And we'll all remember that answer next time I'm asked to make pancakes at three in the morning, yes?"

"Anybody mind if I skip?" asked Willow. "I wanna take a shower and change. Tar...someone...might be there. Or not. Be there." She reddened. "You never know."

Buffy nodded in understanding. "Go pretty up, Will. We'll catch, okay? What time is everybody getting there?"

Buffy began digging around in her weapons chest. "Cool. We've got ages. Few dusts, you'll never even miss us."

"Wait! I wanna go too," Angel protested, then mumbled something incoherent as several amused faces turned his way. "I like to kill...I mean, I need to stretch," he finished lamely.

Buffy smiled. "The more death the merrier, as long as it's not mine." She grimaced. "Again."

Angel grinned down at her with an expression Xander could only unhappily file away as affectionate. "You coming, Cordy?"

Cordelia looked up at him. "Y'know what, I just might. A lap around the graveyard for old times sake? Could be fun without all the shrieking and the fear." She stood up and turned to Buffy. "You got a sword I can borrow?"

Twenty minutes or so later, the group of four were wandering through the graveyard in a random pattern. Walking quietly, they kept their voices low out of habit.

"It was getting stupid, see," explained Cordelia quietly, twirling her short sword adeptly. "Big Bads were trashing the hotel, like, fifty times a day. And here was me, bravely running away from them. I just got sick of it, so I bugged Angel until he said he'd train me."

"Behold the oddness," said Xander, shaking his head. "She has visions and wields things of sharpness. Is there any of LA left standing?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Xander. It's not like I'm Wonder Woman, or...Buffy, or anything. I just didn't want to be helpless bait girl any more."

Buffy nodded. "This I understand. Can't say I'm not surprised, because, hello? But I think it's...cool."

"Thank you," Cordelia said pointedly, shooting a look in Angel's direction. "See, Broodmaster? You didn't need to go overprotective guy after all. Approval from the original ass-kicker."

"You bet," said Buffy lightly, trying to ignore the implications of the 'overprotective' comment. "Death to all."

"Let's see what you've learned, then, Cordelia," Buffy continued casually, voice still low but her eyes flicking past Cordelia and into the darkness. "Wanna give that sword a workout? I see three ways you could do it, 'bout a hundred feet behind you and closing."

"Sure," Cordelia answered, tensing slightly, but taking her cue. "Can't do three, though. Tag team, anyone?"

Buffy looked at him oddly and he shrugged apologetically. "We don't get many good old-fashioned vamps in LA any more. You mind?"

She tossed her stake to Angel and she and Xander hung back slightly as Cordelia and the vampire took the lead, silently splitting up left and right with an ease that spoke of long practice. The three vampires approached with grins, one still shaking fresh earth from his dapper suit.

Angel grinned crookedly. "Sorry, too fast for you, pal." He ducked the clumsy swing of the first vamp and struck him devastatingly hard in the side. "Plus, I'm told I taste kinda floury." The bloodsucker went down, growling in pain.

Buffy watched with wide eyes as Cordelia neatly sidestepped a charge and spun, kicking a stumpy vampire hard in the lower back as he stumbled past. He groaned, staggered and went down on his face. The third, seeing her momentarily off-balance, took a chance and waded in.

Cordelia pivoted smoothly and planted the sword tip in the ground, dropping to one knee. As the vampire ran at her, she leapt sideways and straightened the blade, taking his legs out from under him. He dropped heavily to the ground, and would have gotten up again—if his head hadn't been suddenly and neatly severed from his shoulders.

"My God," muttered Buffy in sheer disbelief as the vamp exploded into powder. If she hadn't just seen that happen, she would have laughed hysterically at the thought.

"Go, Cordy!" shouted Xander enthusiastically. Buffy shot him a look. "What? That was cool! I'm wishing I brought popcorn!"

Cordelia straightened, panting, and her eyes immediately sought Angel, who was trading blows with the first vamp. She ran heedlessly up to them, ignoring Angel's 'no' gesture.

The first vampire turned quickly and slugged her heavily across the jaw. She reeled back with a sharp cry, hand to her face. The stumpy vamp slowly got to his feet a few headstones away.

"Peachy," Cordelia answered breathlessly, "but that guy's gonna wish he didn't do that."

"Oh yeah?" snarled the first vamp, swinging wildly at Angel. "Gonna squeal me to death, little girl?"

As the first vamp turned to see what his opponent was supposed to duck from, he came face-to-face with a bruised yet grinning Cordelia.

The vampire arched with a scream as Angel's stake penetrated his back and burst through to the front of his chest. Angel blinked in a cloud of dust. The stumpy vamp, left suddenly alone facing a sword-wielding brunette with a wicked grin and a tall, decidedly stony-faced vampire, found himself re-thinking his options.

He started stumbling backwards and away from them. "I'll be-" he shouted wildly, before tripping over a headstone. He jumped to his feet again, embarrassed. "Back! And I'm bringing my friend!"

He turned and disappeared swiftly into the darkness. Cordelia made to follow him, but Buffy spoke up.

"Let him go. He didn't look very smart. We wait here a few minutes and he probably will be back." She looked over at Cordelia. Praise where praise was due, however funny it felt. "You did good," Buffy said, marveling at the strangeness of the whole situation. "Really good, actually."

Still breathing a little heavily, Cordelia pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Thanks," she said, coloring slightly.

Angel descended swiftly upon Cordelia and gently turned her to face him, one hand on her cheek, the other on her shoulder. "Did he hurt you?" he asked softly.

"Not really," she replied, smiling, leaning into his hand a little. "No worse than one of your weird-ass gymnastic twirly kicking things, anyway. I gotta learn not to run in without thinking, huh?"

"If you did that, you wouldn't be you," Angel told her. "How would I know what to expect but the complete opposite of whatever's common sense?" The warmth of his voice and expression laid him bare. Unfortunately for the vampire, not to the one who counted.

Buffy swallowed heavily and dropped her eyes. Xander glanced at her quickly. So he wasn't imagining things. Surreptitiously, he rested his hand briefly on the small of Buffy's back. She shot him a quick smile and straightened.

"But that's all the action I need for the night, if you don't mind," continued Cordelia airily, stepping away from Angel. "Next ones are all yours, Buffy. I'll be on cheer duty."

"Holy crap," said Xander, his face pale. "That's a new kid. In a scary non-kid way."

Coming toward them was the stumpy vampire. He looked proud. And rightly so. Trailing slightly behind him, a mountain of shadow and black scales towered into the air, easily double Angel's height. Its arms scraped the ground as it lumbered, and a spiny tail lashed behind.

Angel pulled Cordelia quickly to his side and the four of them re-grouped, backing slowly away.

"No, but I'm sure the City Council would," snorted Buffy. 'Where's he been keeping you? The football stadium?"

"I'm a creature of darkness!" thundered the demon. "Pure evil! Fear upon fear! I am terror made flesh!"

Buffy sighed. "You guys all keep saying that..." she grumbled, and headed into the fray.

A few minutes and one dusted stumpy vamp later, it became obvious that Frank was a lot more serious than their banter had indicated. Buffy was bleeding on one cheek, Xander had been knocked down so many times it was a wonder he kept getting up, Cordelia sported a nasty-looking bruise on her right shoulder, and Angel had three deep tail-induced gashes in his stomach.

"Okay," grunted Buffy, lunging at the demon again, "this time it's-" She flew twenty feet and crashed into a headstone. "Painful. Ow."

Angel leapt forward with a growl, game face in place. He managed to duck the first tail swipe, but was caught by the back-swing and crashed to the ground. Frank loomed over him, one claw stabbing downward. Cordelia blocked the trajectory with her sword long enough for Angel to roll away, before being smacked to the earth herself.

"That's it!" shouted Xander, before jumping up and catching the huge arm. He wrapped his legs around the demon's midsection and began to pummel with all his might. "I...know...I'm...not...hurting...you...at...all..." he gasped, each word punctuated by a punch, "but...at...least...I...feel...USEFUL!"

Buffy and Angel tried a double attack. Buffy slipped in under its left arm as Angel distracted it from the front with furious blows.

Cordelia rolled to the right and grasped the sword hilt. As she used it to push herself to her feet, she suddenly shuddered. A strange expression crossed her face.

"Angel!" screamed Buffy, just managing to avoid a crushing blow to her skull. It glanced off her shoulder instead and she staggered.

Cordelia swayed. Angel reached out as she lurched sideways. Frank's tail pistoned, and the vampire screamed as it punctured his shoulder.

She was cut off as a glowing white light enveloped her, increasing in intensity every second. A rushing wind appeared from nowhere, tearing across the graveyard, whipping Cordelia's hair into snarls. Her sword hit the ground with a dull ringing sound, and Xander crawled away, shielding his eyes.

Angel, his own head turned to avoid the now-blinding light emanating from Cordelia, intercepted her. "It's okay!" he yelled to Buffy, catching her arm. "Just let it happen!"

Cordelia was frozen, raised on her toes, arms outstretched and head thrown back. Light poured from her fingertips, her skin, her eyes, her open mouth, covering her completely until the only trace of the young woman beneath was a vague outline in the glare.

The demon screeched, stumbling backwards. Smoke began to rise from its skin, and it clawed at its eyes, a terrible keening noise coming from its throat. Scales tore off and scattered in the wind. It began to shake. Its tail pounded the ground, sending dirt flying.

Cordelia swayed a little, arched backward and impossibly, the light increased in intensity. The graveyard looked like broad daylight.

And suddenly, Frank exploded into nothing. Buffy gasped in shock as the massive creature dissipated into dust, ashes and charred bone.

As swiftly as it had appeared, the blinding light vanished. The wind died away and Cordelia let out a huge, rattling breath, drooping forward, her knees buckling. Angel raced to her side and caught her in his arms before she fell. Buffy watched in silent amazement as he sank slowly to the ground, cradling Cordelia gently and muttering something so softly that even her Slayer hearing couldn't catch it.

Xander stared, his face pale. "Oookay. Does anybody else think maybe we missed a couple of bulk mails from LA?"

"Glow-in-the-dark Cordy," said Xander blankly. "Comes with its own line of spring accessories and a recharge pack."

Cordelia leant back on her elbows and sighed. "Good. Ack. Angel, I wish those dumbass Powers'd send a warning signal or something. Vision of Skip, maybe?"

"That's it!" exploded Buffy. "You're both INSANE!" She turned to her dumbstruck friend. "Xander? Am I wrong? Cause this is all making sense in that way where it's, y'know, not. At all."

Angel shot her a look as he gently lifted Cordelia to her feet. Even distracted by the million questions in her brain, Buffy noted that his arm remained around her a little longer than strictly necessary.

Xander continued to stare silently at the disheveled Cordelia, who, noticing, put her hands on her hips.

"So..." said Xander, clearing his throat, "all of a sudden you're Night Light Cordy? Big flashlight of death?"

Cordelia's eyebrows rose. "Yeah. Came with the demony goodness. And now I repeat: so?"

Buffy stepped forward, hands on her own hips. "Oh no, he didn't. We didn't. Anything you'd like to share? Like, oh, I don't know, what the HELL just happened here?"

Buffy shook her head. "Scratch that. It's official. I'm the one who's insane."

"She uses swords and glows," said Buffy, pointing at Cordelia, "and you have email," she continued, pointing at her former boyfriend. "These things are not of the common."

"And you are?" Cordelia walked over to Buffy and poked her in the arm. "Last time I checked, you were like, dead. Not to mention the strongest woman in the world."

"The Powers That Be," explained Angel. "Kind of the big guys of Good. Mysterious. Talk in riddles. You know the type."

"Ironically, yes," Xander said flatly. "So wait, let me get this very straight. You,"—he indicated Cordelia—"are a demon?"

Cordelia slapped him good-naturedly. "The part where the visions aren't killing me any more and I occasionally get to have fluorescent fun time." She paused, then shrugged. "Fun for me, anyway."

Xander indicated the dust pile formerly known as Frank. "But obviously for the evil stuff, not so much. Cordy, that's..."

"You don't have to," said Cordelia a little stiffly. "Amazingly, it doesn't concern you."

"How?" asked Angel, and Buffy flinched, staring at him wide-eyed. "I'm sorry, Buffy," he said gently, jarred by the brief look of betrayal that crept across her face, "but I don't see why you're so worried about this."

"You people are doing my job!" Buffy burst out. She waved her arms wildly at Angel. "You with your, your, noble quest business and now her with the visions and the David Copperfield laser show! This is my work! Not yours!"

Cordelia's mouth opened in shock. Finally, she managed: "God, Buffy. Ungrateful much?"

"I thought you'd be happy to have the big herd of nasties thinned a bit. Apparently not."

"If...if you guys can do this...if you can take out the evil the same way I can...if it's that easy for you, you don't..."

"Need you," finished Cordelia softly, understanding dawning on her face. "Buffy..."

Buffy just gazed from her to Angel and back again, slight tears beginning to form. She blinked them back furiously.

Cordelia stepped between Angel and Buffy, taking Buffy's hand. "Come with me a second, okay?"

The vampire subsided, and Buffy let herself be led out of earshot of the others.

Xander watched them go, then turned back to Angel. There was a short, uncomfortable silence.

There was another silence, equally uncomfortable. Angel studied his feet and Xander fidgeted for a while. At last, Xander spoke.

Deeper among the gravestones, Cordelia stopped walking and turned to the shorter girl. "I'm sorry for the crack about being ungrateful."

Buffy looked at Cordelia in surprise. "That's okay. I deserved it. The thing was pounding us. You killed him."

"I haven't replaced you," Cordelia said. "We haven't replaced you. Nobody could do that."

"It isn't about that," insisted Buffy, setting aside the small sting she felt at hearing Angel and Cordelia referred to as 'we'. "Being replaced. Hell, that's what Slayers do—we die, we're replaced. It's just, if you can do...what you do, and Angel can do what he does...and if there are enough people doing that all around the world, which, let's face it, there must be, 'cause it's not like Sunnydale has an exclusive on the evil and I'm just gonna take a breath now..."

Buffy took a breath. Softly, she said, "If all that is happening, then why I am here?"

"Well, at least starting from now I could. I have responsibilities. A job. Granted, a crappy one, but I have it. And I have to look after Dawn. I could just kinda turn it over to you guys. And the rest of the...people...like you. You know?"

The taller girl shook her head again. "Because you're who we come to when we fail, Buffy. Admittedly, it hasn't happened yet, but if it does, you're the world's big gun. You're it. You know? We need you. We'll always need you."

Buffy gazed at her silently, then sat down heavily. There were a million thoughts racing through her brain, not the least of which was an inability to comprehend the changes in the girl standing before her. Of all the people who could have made this much sense...it was Cordelia. CordYoda. Go figure.

Cordelia sat down next to her, oblivious to Buffy's wonder. "When I ran into Angel in LA, I was about ready to cave and come home. Did I ever tell you that?"

"Well, I was. My—air quote—acting career or lack thereof was a disaster, I had no money, I had no friends...basically I had no clue. I didn't know where I was supposed to be or who I was. But now I do. I know exactly what my path is, and guess what? It's the same as yours." She broke off and grinned knowingly. "Ain't that a kick in the teeth?"

"I mean, God, Cordy." Buffy looked at her companion with new wonder. "What's happened to you? You're a frickin' demon."

"Yeah, I can't control it yet. It's kind of frustrating, actually. It only seems to happen when I'm all emotional. Like when somebody I lo-, uh, care about is in danger, or I'm really angry or really happy."

"There's evil to dust when you're really happy? What kind of agency do you guys have, anyway?"

Cordelia shrugged. "No dusting involved. Just a non-lethal, low-watt kind of shining. Without Jack Nicholson."

Cordelia grinned. "One day, remind me to tell you the story of how it happened. Thrills, chills, and a deal so sweet the devil couldn't have turned it down. Nobody smart would have." She paused. "Meet the idiot who did."

Buffy looked at her quietly for a moment. "It's obviously a good thing. So, I'm glad. For both your sakes."

The two girls sat side by side for a moment, the soft night sounds of the graveyard beginning to creep back after the disruption of earlier.

Cordelia frowned. "Me, sensitive? I'm not sensitive. You watch it. I'll glow your ass off, pal."

Angel cast a swift, shadowed glance across at Buffy. The walk home was taking longer than he remembered, and the gashes in his stomach, though rapidly closing, were actually stinging more than he wanted to admit. He looked ruefully at the tatters of his dark green shirt. He had liked that shirt. Cordelia liked it too; she had been the one to insist he wear it when they were packing in the first place.

For a moment he wished Cordelia were beside him, then mentally cursed himself for an idiot. He looked over at Buffy again. You spent years loving this girl, he told himself. Doesn't matter that things are different now—you can walk down a street alone with her.

For Buffy's part, she had a million questions running around in her mind. None of them were questions she particularly wanted to hear the answers to, but she knew herself well enough to know she'd ask them anyway.

Partway home, Xander and Cordelia had taken off somewhere together, Cordelia mumbling something about supplies and Xander offering to come along.

"Nope," Xander had replied, hefting the sword and waving it. "As man-bait. For the big ghastlies. I wanna see that light bulb trick again."

They had disappeared in the direction of town, sniping at each other with an easiness and warmth that made both Buffy and Angel smile. Now, with just the two of them left walking the street, the silence seemed somehow oppressive. Loaded. Both aware there were things to say, but neither willing to start.

Buffy breathed deep and decided a lead-in was in order. "So, lots of the weirdness in La La Land, huh?"

Angel instantly thought of Connor and a guilty sliver forced its way into his heart. But now was not the time. "Yeah," he admitted slowly. "Things have been extra-strange recently."

Buffy nodded. "There is one thing I was...kind of, I don't know, wondering about," she said cautiously. "I mean, it's totally none of my business, but I couldn't help..."

"She doesn't know!" said Angel desperately. "She doesn't know, okay? I've never ... I haven't ... it's all nothing, there's, there's...nothing." The truth of that hit him hard, and he sucked in a painful, unneeded breath.

Buffy shook her head sharply. "What I noticed wasn't a nothing. It was a something. A big-ass something." She started walking again, much faster.

"No, no, no looking," she said quickly. "I looked enough tonight. Much looking, and from thence followed the seeing."

"Buffy, I don't owe you anything!" he called after her, before closing his eyes. Well done. Great.

Buffy stopped too, and turned around, her eyes filled with pain. Finally, she said, "I know you don't. And that's what hurts the most, I think."

"Well, you should! It's cowardly of you not to. What, are you just being all shady stalker-guy and watching her without her knowing it? She deserves to know, Angel."

"Why not?" demanded Buffy. "We're supposed to be friends now, right? Friends tell each other stuff. Friends give advice. Friends tell their friends to date other frie- GOD! I just can't believe this, Angel! I'm sorry, I can't!"

Buffy waved her arms around. "There's just way too much late-breaking news hitting me this evening, you know? I don't even know why I asked in the first place."

She looked over at him, and her eyes nearly broke his heart. "Because I had to know. I thought I was imagining it. I kinda hoped I was. But I had to know."

They had reached the veranda of the Summers house, and both hovered, unwilling to take the discussion inside.

"It's not like I blame you," Buffy said suddenly. She gently poked his chest. "Really. We both know how big that heart is. And let's face it, she's a hottie. Plus, hey, points for the biggest attitude adjustment of the century." She paused. "The millennium, maybe."

"You don't know what I need now," Buffy told him heatedly. "I want to hear you say it. It's not real until you do." She smiled ruefully. "If you don't say it, a girl's got nothing to repeat to herself incredulously in the middle of the night when she can't sleep." She sobered. "I need to hear it, Angel."

Angel squared his shoulders and met her eyes. "I'm in love with Cordelia," he said quietly.

"Buffy, no." Angel went after her and caught her arm. "Buffy, stop! It's not okay. It's pretty obviously not okay. I want to know what I can do. Tell me! All right? I'll do anything."

"Look. I'm...grateful for your honesty. I'm grateful that you told me. I just...can't deal with what it all means."

Buffy took a deep breath. "Because I was supposed to be your big forever love!" she choked out.

Angel's mouth opened with astonishment at the confession and Buffy rushed on recklessly.

"I know that sounds horrible, and amazingly selfish, and all those other things I told myself I wasn't. But...even though it's wrong, there's this part of me that wants you to love me forever. So I had that much to keep, at least. Everything else in my life is so...temporary. It all changes, things get taken away from you, things hurt you." A strange expression crossed her face. "Or you make bad choices and your life gets unbelievably weird." She reached out and gently tugged at the lapel of his jacket. "But in the back of my mind, I always had you, y'know? The one change that would never happen."

"You don't have to say anything," she interrupted. "What I just said was incredibly unfair. And teenagery. And nasty." She smiled at him sadly. "And true."

"I can get over you. I-I have. I can even be happy for you. And believe it or not, I am. I think, if you ever get enough backbone to tell her, Cordelia could be good for you." She swallowed. "But you just took away my last little-girl-on-a-rainy-day dream, so there's a tiny part of me that can't...doesn't want to quite forgive you for it. Not yet."

She turned and headed for the stairs. At the bottom, she paused and turned back to him. They looked at each other sadly a for while, before she gave him a half-smile.

Angel watched her go. "I have all the time in the world," he told the empty lobby miserably. He went outside and sat down on the front steps, staring into the darkness.

When Angel finally dragged himself down the basement stairs, he was met by the sight of Cordelia on a chair carefully closing the curtains of the high window along the back wall. He watched as she leant back and scanned her work, then went after a tiny chink, tugging it closed. Though a smile did not touch his lips, he felt one inside. She was taking care of him again.

"Oh," Cordelia said, indicating the open overnight bag on the sofa bed, "Dawn's room is a total wreck. And it has a funky kind of teenager-meets-incense smell."

Angel uncomfortably eyed the double sofa bed. The only bed in the room. "So you're, uh, going to stay here with me?"

"If you don't mind," she said, stepping off the chair. She grinned at him. "Well, obviously yes, whether you mind or not."

Angel indeed minded, but not for reasons he wanted to voice. The mere thought of her with him, so close...made something warm shoot up his spine. So instead he asked, "Is your shoulder okay?"

"Actually," she said, displaying it to him, "and weirdly, it's already starting to fade. Maybe I got me some demon healing mojo. Need me to take a look at your stomach?"

"What?" he asked dully, having forgotten the gashes completely. "Oh. Right. Um..." He pulled up his shirt and examined himself. "No, it should be okay. They're pretty much closing over."

"Well, you should drink something, okay? I went by Willy's, cause I noticed Buffy didn't have any supplies. You like lamb's blood, right? Oh, P.S.: Xander? Acts like a baby-man if you ask him to hold the stuff."

"Same old, same old," said Cordelia. "You know, for two extremely cool people, when you get together your shared IQ is like, twelve."

Angel dropped onto the sofa bed with a deep sigh. Cordelia sat down next to him and watched him silently. The utter dejection on his face made her hurt.

She didn't blame the girl one bit, because hello?—the vampire was a huge dork. Most likely he'd either said exactly the wrong thing or nothing at all when he should have said the right thing. But there was something else, something nagging at her. A funny tightening of her chest and a major case of the wiggins in her stomach. She took a moment to chase it down for identification. Once she had it cornered, she examined it carefully.

One corner of her brain put a large stake through the wriggling feeling and the rest attempted to completely ignore it. It was quite simply explained away, she thought calmly. It's just because he never got like that over her. That's all.

The words refused to go away, running about her head with scorched feet, taunting her.

Yep. Because you'll never be as important to him as Buffy is. You'll always come second.

Think about it, Cordy. Think really hard and you might come up with an answer.

Something slipped past the corner of her vision, like a shadow. Something warm, and terrifying.

Oh no, announced her subconscious abruptly. Nooo. Nope. No way. Goodbye to you, mister.

And Cordelia Chase promptly did what she did best, after talking: went into denial. It was a refined skill, honed over years of ignoring what she didn't want to deal with. So amazing were her powers that by the time she turned back to Angel, the stray thought was buried without even being acknowledged by her conscious mind.

"It doesn't have to be the end of everything, Mopemaster General," Cordelia added, irritated by his continuing silence. "All you have to do is go upstairs and talk it out with her. Start over."

Angel heard the words, but let them sink past him and drift away. If you knew. It's not that easy this time.

"It can be," Cordelia said quietly. Angel's head snapped up in surprise, and she grinned at him. "I have magic powers, remember? Also, your self-recrimination? It has a repeating pattern. Next up is: 'Oh no, of course I can never make it right. I'd better go and sit in the dark for three weeks.' Course, I think Buffy'd kick you out after a few days."

Cordelia let out an explosive, exasperated sound. "Ooo-kay, that's enough." She got to her feet. "Stand up, Angel."

Angel complied. Cordelia took both his hands in her own and turned him to face her. "Now. Repeat after me: I am a big loser."

Cordelia's voice became gentler, her face serious. Her fingers tightened on his own. "From this moment on, I'll try to stop doing that."

"From..." Angel cleared his suddenly closed throat, and wondered why his eyelids felt suspiciously tingly. "From this moment on, I'll try to stop doing that."

Cordelia narrowed the gap between them a little further. "Because I'm sick of it."

"Yeah. You have to be, Angel, or it's just a vicious circle that'll keep coming back to bite you in the ass all the time. I...don't want that for you."

"Angel," she said softly, "I want you to be happy. As happy as you can be, anyway."

Angel was abruptly and intensely aware of her hands in his, of the warmth of her skin where it touched his own. It must have shown on his face, because Cordelia suddenly blinked and stepped back.

"Anyhoo," she said airily, running a hand through her hair, "that's enough with the wretched. I've done that much Counsellor Cordy tonight, I'm starting to annoy myself. Look at the time, it's nine-thirty. I gotta get fancy or we'll never get there." She tugged at her torn shirt with a sigh. "Figures that our friend Frank would know to go for the Calvin Klein."

"To tear my clothes off?" quipped Cordelia without thinking, before silently groaning at herself.

Angel froze for a second. "Uh...no," he said, his voice a little husky. "For the repeat after me thing."

"Well, it's only fair," said Angel, moving a little closer to her. "You got to lay it all out, why not me?"

"We have to be at the Bronze in half an hour, remember? You, unburdening? That could take two hundred years."

Cordelia paused, something nice sweeping through her. "Well," she said casually, "every good Seer can do it. Mandatory."

She sighed dramatically and swept her arms wide. "If you strongly feel you must."

Cordelia paused, searching his face. "This is about the visions causing death thing, right? I heard what you said to me, y'know. I won't do it again. I promise."

"Okay, okay. I don't always talk to Angel about the way I feel, even when I should," she repeated dutifully.

He held out his hand for her to shake. "From now on, I'll come to him first when I have a problem." An offer.

Cordelia took his hand and gripped it firmly. "From now on, I'll come to him first when I have a problem." An acceptance.

"I'm gonna switch tenses now," Angel said, a hint of worry on his face. "Is that allowed?"

"Okay, sorry," the flustered vampire apologized. Here goes. "You're the best friend that I've ever had."

A pleasant jolt in her stomach was not enough to temper Cordelia's scoffing face. She pointed to the ceiling. "Puh-lease, Angel. What about-"

The vampire stopped her with a raised hand. "Buffy and I weren't friends," he said simply.

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "Do you often torture yourself Romeo-style for people who aren't your friends?"

"But that's the thing, Cordy. That's why it's all so weird, why tonight was so strange. We have trouble talking things out because we were never actual friends."

The puzzled look on Cordelia's face told Angel he would have to elaborate further. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"See, Sp-, ah, somebody pointed that out to us a long time ago. It took me a while, but I realized they were right. Our relationship was different, it was...layered in all these ways that were wrong for us. I did love her. I still do and always will, but not like it was before. I only want good things for her. If I could shoulder some of her burdens, help give her a normal life, I would. But she's not what I need for me, not any more."

"Something as simple and...untroubled as friendship could never have come out of what we had," Angel continued, warming up now. "It was too hard. I ended up learning the value of a real friend from somebody else. You. For...for the first time in my life. And I know I should have said all this to you a long time ago, but ... thank you."

This was an extraordinarily long speech for the taciturn vampire to make, and its after-effects were different for both of them. Angel felt cleansed, unburdened, if only for a single moment. He had finally been able to articulate something he had felt for what seemed an age, but had been impossible to clearly define: Cordelia's role in his life. Not just the way her presence brightened him, lifted him, but the way she had also been his best friend and teacher without knowing it.

As for Cordelia, his words sent her somewhere into the outer stratosphere. He really does need me. She hadn't known it was possible to feel this light—to feel like weakness and uncertainty were rushing from her deepest places, released forever. I'm important to him. I matter to him. He needs me.

Angel inclined his head a fraction to catch her eyes. With an lightness he did not feel, he asked, "So...what happened to 'repeat after me'?"

Cordelia laughed, still buzzing inside. "The whole thing? Sorry, my inner demon apparently didn't come equipped with instant recall-o-speech."

It's true, Cordelia thought, a warming glow settling throughout her, starting in her chest. Go figure. A lifetime of money and the right shoes, and my best friend is a two hundred and fifty year old bloodsucking demon with a black ensemble fetish. And I do love him more than anybody I know. He's Angel. He's kinda everything I have right now. And he's...looking at me like I've gone mute. If he thinks I'm actually gonna tell him...

The difference between thought and actual speech was timed at mach-4 and calculated to be too sentimental for even the new Cordelia to handle. Despite her good intentions, her cheeks still stained with a light bloom as she swatted his arm gently.

"You know you're the best friend I ever had, too." For good measure she added, "Dumbass."

"Duh, Angel. See anybody vying for your slot? Are you elbowing aside the masses? No."

The beaming smile on Angel's face touched Cordelia far more than she was willing to let on. "If you don't quit the Little Miss Grade School act, you won't be mine, either. Can we get back to the compliments, please?"

"Sure." Angel moved a little closer to her. "Ah...okay. You surprise me every day."

Cordelia bit her lip as her heart gave a quick, strange little beat. Ah, hell. Not again. Where is this coming from? Go away. He's working some dark vampire mojo on me, or something. Bet he doesn't even realize the way he's looking at me.

"Smooth, mister. But...I've never met anybody like you before, either. Well, obviously."

Angel closed the distance between them, never taking his eyes from her face. Buffy's right. You're a coward. Do it. Tell her. Tell her now. Say it.

"I lo-" Cordelia began automatically. Then her breath caught in her throat. "Uh, what?"

Angel swallowed. He attempted a smile that came out more of a frozen grimace. "Cordy, I know this is probably the wrong place and time to tell you, but...I'm in love with you."

Had she been able to see her own face at that moment, Cordelia would have been shocked at the expression on it. Her mouth dropped open. Her eyes widened. The color drained from her cheeks, to be replaced by a furiously rising tide of crimson that claimed her like fire. His words reverberated right to her heels, and she wondered only that the floor wasn't giving way beneath her.

"Cordy?" Angel was in a fever of dread now, eyes bright and dead lungs sucking in air he didn't need. She was staring at him with what his frantic brain could only decipher as...fear? Disgust? Horror? She hates me. Oh God, I shouldn't have done that...stupid, stupid...

For her part, Cordelia was having trouble forming words. Too much. Too quickly. Can't think.

"Cordy." He took her hands in his and pressed them to his chest. "Do you feel this?"

"But you would." He met her eyes. "If I had a beating heart...Cordy, it'd be breaking my ribs."

Cordelia stepped backward, shaking her head slightly. Her hands dropped from Angel's, and he noted with mild panic that her knuckles were white.

"I think," she said quickly, avoiding his eyes, "that I've got a lot of new information in a really short time."

"And who knew?" she continued desperately, cutting him off. She began backing for the steps. "I've got a lot to process all of a sudden, and I'm thinking I might need to go somewhere else to do it, y'know? A somewhere that isn't here, and maybe, maybe by myself, 'cause with the best friends thing, which is new, well, not new in the sense that I never thought about it before, 'cause obviously I did, I had, and it's good that we talked about it, but also with the I love you thing, which is definitely new and maybe, that's, it's, I mean, you're not usually the talker in this relationship...not that there's a relationship yet, not in the Biblical sense, but then even if there was we'd have to keep the Bible out of it wouldn't we, 'cause that'd probably set you on fire if I even opened it near you, right-"

Like a deer in the headlights, Cordelia gaped at him. "Dear God, Angel," she managed finally. "That's the word you fixate on?"

"No, connotations is a big word!" said Cordelia wildly. "Yet is a small word, very small, titchy in fact, it doesn't have to mean anything and why am I even continuing this conversation when I have an elsewhere to be?"

Cordelia shook off his hand, desperately. "Angel, I can't talk about this right now!"

Angel's chest was nearly caving in with anguish. She does hate me. What have I done? But he asked anyway, dreading her answer. "Why not?"

"Because it's not fair!" Her eyes flashed with anger, strain and a hint of terror. "It's not fair of you to lay that on me without any warning! You don't know anything about the way I feel! You've had all this time to think about it, and I..."

"Damn right!" she snapped. "Did you think about the repercussions, Angel? You know we're not allowed to be happy! There's always some cosmic force that screws things up for us. Like some little guy sitting in a dark room somewhere, writing our lives for us. 'Oh, they look too shiny this week, I'd better mess 'em up.'"

Angel blinked, confused. She had started to glow dully, a white aura creeping around the edges of her skin. "What-"

"Have you even thought about the curse?" Cordelia continued relentlessly. "Has it crossed your mind for a second?"

Angel's face darkened. "Of course I have," he growled softly. "How could I go a day, an hour, without thinking about it?"

"So what happened?" she asked, her face heating, the aura glowing brighter. "Did she turn you down? Did you just tell her the same thing and she blew you off? Is that why you're doing this?"

"NO!" Angel exploded, horrified. "No! God, is that what you think? Cordy, no! I just...realized that...there'll never be a good time. There never is, there's always something in the way, so you just have to take a chance. Cordy, I'm so in love with you that sometimes I can't even speak!" He broke off, searching her face. "I had to tell you. Now. I had to."

Cordelia's chest constricted. The abject honesty on the vampire's face was battering down the last of her defenses.

"We can't," she said flatly. "Okay? It just can't be as simple as you saying 'I love you' and hoping for the best. And here! Of all places and all times, it had to be here?"

"Why not?" roared Angel, suddenly desperate. "Damn it, Cordy, don't you think we deserve...god, I don't know, something?"

Cordelia shook her head angrily. "Well, your something and my something appear to be different somethings, okay?"

Cordelia paused, gazing at him. He looked so lost that it hurt her heart. "I'm...not saying I don't...feel something for you, Angel."

She quietened for a second. "No. I'm not saying that. Because...I do. But I don't know what it is. And even if I did, there's too much about this that doesn't add up to sunshine and ice-cream, all right?"

"Stop!" she yelled furiously. The glow around her flared brilliantly, then blinked out. "Not here, Angel. Not now. Okay? I need time."

At that moment, Xander clattered down the basement steps. "Hey guys, Will called and said if you're all banged up you don't have to-" He broke off, took in both their faces—Angel's pale, Cordelia's furious—and the palpable tension in the room. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay, Xander," said Cordelia, never taking her eyes off Angel. "I was just leaving."

Cordelia gathered her bag from the bed and stalked toward the stairs. "I told you what I need," she said flatly. She pushed past the embarrassed Xander. And then she was gone.

Xander remained frozen at the bottom of the stairs. The stricken vampire didn't even look at him. So Xander kind of...hung there, waiting for something he couldn't identify. A sign of life? Movement? Angel provided neither. He simply stood where Cordelia had left him, eyes on the place she had been. The expression on his face would have been enough to make the devil weep.

Xander fled for the kitchen. He topped the stairs and closed the door behind him, to be greeted by the sight of Cordelia at the table, head in hands. Her shoulders were rising and falling, but not in the way of somebody crying. More in the way of somebody desperately trying not to.

Xander glanced around uncomfortably. Willow and Anya were already gone, Buffy was upstairs showering, and so that left him. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, wondering where to begin. As it happened, Cordelia saved him the trouble. Her head shot up as a floorboard creaked underneath his feet. She blinked a few times, and Xander caught a brief glimpse of incredible anguish before Public Cordy was slammed into place.

"Xander!" she said brightly. "I didn't...didn't hear you come up." She pointed to her ears. "These demon parts not so special, apparently."

"What?" she said, smiling. "Sure. Of course I am." A hitch in her breath gave her away.

"Yeah," he said, sitting down next to her. "Because this is what I do when I'm fine also. Sit around and stare at tables. I'm a pretty happy guy lately, so I don't get much else done."

Cordelia stared at him for a moment before her brittle smile softened and, to his relief, became genuine.

"Was nothing," she said quickly. "Less than, even. Just a stupid fight. Don't worry about it. We have them all the time."

"Totally," Cordelia rushed on, avoiding his eyes. "Really. It'll blow over." She stood up quickly. "We're gonna be so late. Is there anywhere else I can change in this place?"

Angel was still standing where Cordelia had left him. In complete shock. In two hundred and fifty-odd years, there had been times he had thought his un-beating heart would break, there had been times he was so utterly miserable that he could barely move.

Dimly, he remembered his other life. Liam. A tavern brawl he had been in at the age of twenty. Isaac had bested him eventually—drunk that Liam was—and Isaac, in his rage, had begun to suffocate the younger man. Torn off his cloak and forced it down over Liam's gasping, mottled face. Liam had been unable to breathe.

Breathing. A long-unused luxury. But Angel had never forgotten what it had felt like. Or what it had felt like to have it taken away. Seeing the world go black and gray before his eyes, feeling all that he was, all that he had achieved (what little of it there was) being torn from him by the simple inability to draw air into his lungs. Clawing, choking, beating helplessly at his friend until his reprieve. That night had ended with forgiveness, wenches and ugly, intoxicated mirth. But this night...

Angel stood there, again unable to breathe. Because Cordelia was the only air he needed now, and she was gone.

The young woman in question closed the door of Dawn's room behind her and leant her forehead against it.

Cordelia Chase did not cry often, and never without a reason. She didn't realize it, but in recent years, her tears had all been for others. Never herself. Never in self-pity, never in jealousy, never in anger. Her tears had all been for her friends, for the helpless who were now her charges, for the hurt and lonely people she worked so hard to help. For Angel...and the insurmountable odds he faced in a battle simply to exist and atone.

Ever an honest girl, Cordelia was well aware of her own failings. Scarcely a day passed that she did not remember a remark she had made and flinch, or desperately wave away the stinging memory of the way she had once treated people in an effort to protect herself from hurt. But she was different now. She had been brittle, but now she was whole.

Her best friend. The man who was everything and more to her, whose face was the last she saw in her mind as she closed her eyes at night and the first person she thought of each morning. Angel, who loved her and had been brave enough to tell her despite the impossibility of it all. Who she had run from in terror as the secret heart she had been protecting so fiercely was flayed open and left bare.

Unseen by anyone, for the first time in three years, Cordelia allowed herself the luxury of tears shed for herself. They didn't last long, but they were hot, bitter and tasted of loss.

Angel had finished dressing, because duty was duty. This was Willow's night. He would go to the Bronze. He would drink. He would even smile if he had to. But nothing could possibly make him enjoy it. Not without a smile from her in return. Suddenly, purely on impulse, Angel pulled out his cell phone. He punched in a number and waited while it rang endlessly. Finally, it picked up.

A somewhat breathless voice with a Texas twang said, "Good evenin', Angel Investigations, we help the-"

Fred's voice crackled down the line, immediately full of worry. "Angel, what's wrong? Is Cordy okay? Did she have a vision? Oh no, did Buffy die ag-"

Despite himself, Angel chuckled. Fred had a way of making him do that. "Fred, I'm not dying. Neither is Cordy, neither has Buffy. Everyone's fine. I just...just wondered if you knew...uh..."

The girl's voice warmed. "Course I do. You might not be the most, um, demonstrative guy in the world, but...we all know you love us."

"Do you?" he muttered, almost to himself, the phone clenched in his hand so tightly it nearly shattered.

Fred clicked her tongue. "If there was a course in how to piss Cordelia off, you'd get an A. Y'all snipe at each other more'n my grandparents. It's the kyerump-"

There was a grin in Fred's voice. "I love you too, Angel." She paused. "You're a good man."

Angel hung up, stuffed the phone into his inside jacket pocket, and sighed. At least there was someone he loved of the female persuasion who wasn't mad at him.

"You shouldn't have done this," Willow continued. "I mean, really." She put the gift-wrapped box down on the table and hugged the vampire. "But for a shady creature of the darkness, you sure know what girls like," she told him, smiling. "Thank you."

Over Willow's shoulder, Angel saw an oddly subdued and pale Cordelia's eyes widen in panic. He instantly realized her error. Cordelia, usually the thoughtful one where such things were concerned, had forgotten to get a present.

"It's from both of us," he said quickly, as Willow released him. "Me and Cordy." Me and Cordy. Cordelia and me. Cordy and I. He sighed. Idiot.

Willow went past Buffy, Anya and Xander to hug Cordelia too, who despite having said nothing to him since their arrival, shot Angel a quick look of gratitude.

"It's nothing much," said Angel, as Willow started to tear the paper off. "I, uh, we went to a little shop in Chinatown and the guy said these might help."

Willow opened the box and pulled out something wrapped in linen. She frowned as she unfolded it to reveal several thin papery sheets the size of cigarette packets. On one side of each were swirled images, reminiscent of Celtic art, on the other a slightly sticky substance.

"For any kind of cravings," Angel clarified. "Oh, they're not magical," he reassured Willow, as she opened her mouth. "They're herbal. It's some kind of yin-yang Eastern meditation thing; I'm not sure how it works. You wear them when, when..." -his voice became slightly hoarse- "you want something really badly that you can't have..."

He couldn't suppress a fleeting look at Cordelia, who reddened and studied the patches a little too intently for somebody who was supposed to have known about them already. Buffy noted the glance and her jaw tightened a little.

"What?" said Anya. "Presents are finished. The only thing left is boring small talk or dancing. I know which one I prefer. So who's with me?"

Anya smiled. "Well in that case, I'm your girl, too." She turned to Willow. "Only not in the way that you'd be someone's girl, if you get my drift."

As Cordelia followed Anya and the two girls threaded their way through the crowds to the dance floor, she tried to shake off the feeling of Angel's hand on her arm. It didn't work. She then attempted, with equal failure, to banish from her mind the desolate expression that had been in his eyes. They reached the dance floor, and Cordelia threw herself desperately into the pounding beat, barely aware of Anya at her side or the men who let predatory eyes travel over the two of them.

Time, her subconscious told her quietly. You said you needed time. Time to say what? If the answer was no, you'd would have said that already.

To avoid him. To avoid seeing that look on his face and knowing you're the one who put it there. To avoid having to listen to me tell you that DO deserve him, if it's what you want.

After a few minutes, Anya leant toward her. "You and I should start a club!" she called over the music.

"Demons Who've Dated Xander," explained Anya seriously. "I think we'd be the only two to qualify. It'd be very exclusive. Like Amway. Or the Young Republicans."

Cordelia stared. Despite herself, and with some difficulty, she stifled a wild fit of laughter. "Sure, color me clubbed!" she called back.

Anya smiled hugely and they began dancing again. After a moment, Anya captured Cordelia's arm hard enough to make her wince. "Only, I get to be Treasurer," she yelled, no trace of humor on her face. "And you can't ever date Xander again."

The two girls smiled at each other in understanding, and picked up the beat again.

Angel lurked. It was, after all, what he did best. Wherever he was, he made sure that he could see Cordelia. He had been approached several times, but even the most persistent of his would-be suitors—a willowy blonde wearing a dress several sizes too small—had been put off eventually. Some took more growling at than others.

It was in this state that Xander found him and tapped the brooding vampire on the shoulder. So intent was Angel on his study of the distant Cordelia that he didn't even react. Xander leaned in close and put his mouth next to Angel's ear.

Angel jumped at least a foot, his fists whipping up defensively. When he saw who it was, he dropped them with a surly frown. "Don't do that," he said roughly, and Xander took a step back in surprise.

Angel frowned at him a moment longer, then crumbled. "Forget it. I overreacted."

The young man smiled. "Hey, there he is! Melodramatic guy, the Angel I know best. The new you? Scary."

Angel couldn't help it—a small grin crossed his face. It died, however, when he looked past Xander to behold Cordelia in the arms of a tall footballer type. Xander followed his gaze, and nodded slightly in understanding.

"Xander, I'm sure you'll understand if I really don't want to discuss it," Angel replied tersely.

"Sure," breezed Xander. "Just, see, things in the car were on the frosty side and I was wondering if-"

Xander drew back in mild surprise. "My my, somebody's been taking one-liner class from the Master, haven't they?" He indicated Cordelia. "The Master in this case actually being a Mistress. My guess—tall, gorgeous and otherwise-engaged over there."

Angel faced him, anger flickering in his gaze. "What the hell is it with Sunnydale people? You always-"

"All I'm saying is," interrupted Xander, "that if your little 'fights' are as common as Cordy seems to think they are, shouldn't you guys have made with the patching by now?"

Angel deflated and resumed his scrutiny of the dance floor. "I don't want to talk about this with you. Okay?"

"Not much wanting on this side either, pal," Xander snorted derisively. "But I don't like seeing Cordy cry."

"Whoa, whoa! Personal space! And lack thereof!" Xander protested, backing away. Angel merely glared at him. Xander relented.

"Look. If she wasn't crying when I talked to her, she was about five seconds later, okay? I don't know what happened with you guys, but..." Xander took a deep breath. "I don't wanna see it happen again."

Cordelia was tired. She let the conversation settle over her like an old shirt. Its very inanity was what made it comforting. The fact she was eavesdropping rather than partaking made no difference. Sometimes it was...relaxing...to let vacuousness reign.

She leant further into the bar and rested her head on her crossed arms. All the better to overhear you with, my dear. The five girls next to her were various clones of each other—much like, she acknowledged, she herself would have been once.

"...don't care how good the leather looks, sometimes an attitude smears all in badness. I mean, rude or anything?"

Once. Twice. Three times and you're out. Cordelia wasn't sure what the word 'once' really applied to. I would have been that way 'once.' Buffy and I were nearly friends 'once.' I was attracted to Angel 'once.' Twice, three times, four times...Why can't I have a normal life?

"Near the pool tables last I saw. Can't miss him, the only real talent in the place."

Cordelia idly remembered when she would have been up for a challenge like that. Bending Men To Your Will 101, the Cordelia Chase special. Click your fingers, snap that smile out, and they were all yours. When had she stopped wanting that? Why had she stopped wanting that? Was it because she and everybody she loved could die any old time? Or was it because Angel-

"...warning you now, he's all rebound-y or something. Wouldn't even talk to me, just kept staring at some girl on the dance floor."

And when had this love thing begun, anyway? And what in the hell had he been thinking? Which wasn't really fair, she admitted silently. It's not like you could choose who you loved. You either loved somebody or you didn't, and if you did, there was no use pretending-

"God," exclaimed one of the girls, a bottle-blonde with a brittle face. "Earwig much?"

"Unfortunate and painful side effect of the being near you," retorted Cordelia, straightening her shoulders. "This guy you were talking about." She held her hand up to Angel's height. "About this tall?"

Cordelia stepped closer. "Leather jacket and dark hair most men would kill for?"

"Totally." The brunette waved a hand for emphasis. "William Shatner would first weep, then die."

Cordelia swallowed the instant, pure and fiery rage that threatened to consume her. They were talking about...about...

"I don't think you girls know exactly what you're dealing with," she said through clenched teeth.

"Everything," Cordelia replied calmly. "Allow me to make something very clear here, and I suggest you take it on board. Big and Broody guy?" She leveled a death stare at the blonde. "He's mine."

He was under the stairs when Cordelia finally found him. Leaning against the wall, hands in his jacket pockets, staring blackly at the floor. She couldn't help it—an affectionate grin crossed her face. Stupid vampire. There was something so familiar and endearing about his fits of melancholy. Perhaps because she knew better than anyone how to snap him out of them.

Well, she thought, watching him wondrously, Powers give me courage. Because I'm officially insane.

Angel looked up, startled. "Cordy." He had been so consumed by thoughts of her that he hadn't noticed her approach. He briefly acknowledged the irony, then slipped into mild panic. "Uh...Cordy. Cordelia."

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Cordelia. I thought so too. Although the way you're saying it, I'm not sure now."

"So, I'm conducting a survey about people who suck all the life out of a room by their mere presence," Cordelia said lightly. "I couldn't help noticing you qualify." She poked him. "Jeez, Angel. Black hole of despair or anything?"

"So," she continued calmly, leaning against the wall next to him, "why're you glooming over here by yourself?"

The vampire decided to bite, as it were. "See," he said, meeting her eyes, "there's this girl."

Cordelia had the grace to color slightly, but she said nothing, and Angel turned back to the room. They stood there in silence for a moment, before he waved irritably at the strobe lights. "Plus, this all just makes me kind of crazy."

"I know," agreed Cordelia. She took a deep breath and turned to him. "And I have a solution. Don't focus on them."

The vampire gazed at her. In the flickering half-light, her eyes caught and held his own. For a few seconds, Angel saw something strange and tender flare deep within them.

"Don't," she told him quickly. "Don't say anything about that." She clasped his hands within both her own, bringing them to her chest. "Angel," she whispered, "I'm so incredibly sorry."

His throat closed as she lifted his hands higher, to her lips. She dipped her head, kissed his trembling fingers and Angel shut his eyes in disbelief. This was not happening. This was not happening.

Cordelia was not threading her arms around his waist and nestling herself against him.

She was not looking up at him in a way that made his legs suddenly feel like water.

She simply wasn't, because somewhere between pissing off two of the three women he cared about most and this moment, someone had obviously staked him. He must have died, and...

...gone to vampire heaven where the girl he loved was now resting her head on his chest?

"I shouldn't have taken off, Angel. I'm sorry. We're friends," she mumbled softly against his shirt. "Best friends. And real friends don't run away from things just because they scare them. They stay. And talk things out."

Stunned, Angel watched from a great distance as his arms lifted of their own accord and wrapped themselves around the young woman in front of him. He could feel her breathing. He could feel her heart beat against him.

"Talk," she agreed, lifting her face to his. "About feelings that frighten them."

Their eyes locked, and there was a softness in hers that he had never seen before.

"W-would..." Angel hesitated, then decided to take a chance. "Would these be the usual kind of feelings that best friends have for each other?"

She tilted her head. "Well, not usually. I'm told that only people who are truly, amazingly lucky get to feel like this about their best friend and have their best friend feel the same way."

"Really?" Angel whispered, feeling something bright and warm close around his heart.

"Really," she whispered back, and leant her forehead against his chest, breathing deeply.

Angel simply gazed down at her, unable to believe this was happening. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Cordy, do, ah, do best friends who feel this way ever, I don't know...kiss each other?"

Her arms tightened around him as she looked up. "Sometimes," she nodded, her eyes twinkling. "When one of the friends has been unbelievably wrong about the way she feels for the other friend. Especially then."

Angel suddenly released her from his embrace. "Sorry, I don't know anybody like that," he said airily, before smiling.

Cordelia slapped him on the chest, grinning. Then she sobered. "Angel, until five minutes ago, neither did I."

Angel gently stroked her cheek as they gazed at each other, both amazed at the way the other's face now seemed different somehow, touched by something new. Angel finally spoke.

"I do love you, Cordy. You're ... everything I never knew I needed. You believe me, don't you?"

Cordelia smiled, and it was a smile that encompassed both love and sadness. She waved a hand around at the throng. "Look, Angel. These people? They're so incredibly lucky. They have no idea what's out there, and most of them never will." She met Angel's eyes. "Us...you and me...we have to live differently. It could all get taken away from us at any moment. And I suddenly realized that I don't have time to be afraid any more." She reached up and touched his face, her fingers trailing across his brow and down his cheek. "We can't...can't have everything, you know. The Powers took care of that. He's still in there somewhere. And we don't know what's in me, exactly. But you were right. We deserve to have something."

She lifted her face to his. "And I want us to have whatever we can," she said softly. "Because I'm ready now. I'm not afraid any more. And because..."

She trailed off, leaning upwards. Angel swallowed, inclining his head forward, letting her come to him.

"...I love you too," Cordelia whispered, before gently touching her lips to his.

It lasted an age, that kiss. It deepened each second, until there was no space between them not filled. Cordelia blurred; every blur an emotion, all streaks of color, light and warmth. For Angel, even when the kiss had ended, it didn't. Somewhere in his head, which was filled with the closeness and the sheer reality of her, he knew that it never would.

Twenty feet away, Willow stared in utter shock, the drinks she had gone to collect spilling unnoticed to the floor. Oh boy. Oh boy. This is...new.

"Okay," Cordelia said breathlessly. "Executive decision. Kissing? Definitely something we can have."

"So," Willow said lightly, sitting down next to Xander and placing a beer in front of him. "Where's Buffy gone?"

Xander pointed, his eyes riveted on the dance floor. "Dancing with Anya. Which makes Xander a happy boy."

"You're supposed to appreciate the finer points of the sisterhood, Will. Noticed the music?"

Her companion sighed. "Where's Deadboy when you need him? He understands me now. We're bonded in manliness."

Willow's face became suddenly mischievous. "Speaking of, did anybody...and by anybody I mean you, notice the strangeness that is Angel and Cordelia?"

Xander snorted. "If by noticed, you mean stepped right in it with all its subtext-y badness, then yeah, I noticed. Kinda like daytime soap, only less funny." He considered for a second. "Hairstyles were about the same, though."

Willow raised an eyebrow. "I know what I'm talking about, but you flounder in murk. Exposition, please?"

"Oh, I walked in on some kind of big vicious," Xander explained, waving his beer bottle around. "With the yelling and the storming off, I didn't find out what it was all about."

"Would it explain why they're under the stairs groping like a pair of...gropers?" asked Willow calmly.

Cordelia didn't know how long she and Angel been locked in each other's arms. She wasn't wearing a watch. She had the feeling that even if she had been, she wouldn't have been able to read it. It was that kind of night. Some time earlier, she had dimly registered a dirty look from a girl she recognized as one from the bar. It had made her giggle, which had required an explanation. Soon, they had both been giggling.

Dreamily, she smiled. Her vampire...and he was hers...giggling like a little girl. Dork.

"I should be offended," Angel replied, leaning his forehead against hers, "but I keep getting distracted..."

He kissed her again, ran his hand down her cheek, trailed his fingers across her collarbone and drew her even closer to him. She shivered.

Cordelia took his hands in hers, noted that their trembling matched her own. "Those Powers have a lot to answer for," she said glumly.

Angel nodded, pulled her back to him and rested his chin on her shoulder. "If I ever meet 'em, we're gonna have-"

They stood there for a while, Cordelia with her back to his chest, his arms tucked around her waist. Angel wasn't aware of the moment the music changed, but Cordelia was, because she suddenly straightened.

She cocked her head. "This song...I can't believe it." She whirled in his arms, locking her hands behind his neck. "Dance with me."

Cordelia interrupted him with a hand over his mouth. "As we've established, there are a lot of things we can't do." He opened his mouth again, so she shut it for him. "A lot of things," she clarified, pressing herself against him in a way that made his knees weak. "But we can dance, Angel. We can have that."

Angel drew in a shaky breath as her body began to move sensuously against his own. "No fair," he complained half-heartedly.

Cordelia smiled devastatingly. "Uh-huh." Her lips captured his own just long enough for him to lean forward into the kiss before she broke away. "Dance with me, Angel," she whispered.

As they made their way to the floor, she turned to him. Lacing a hand in his hair, she whispered into his ear. "This music," she told him. "Angel, it's called Love Song For A Vampire."

She wrapped her arms around him and melted into him as the song played. And he surrendered to her completely. For the first time, Angel and Cordelia were locked in a battle neither wanted to end. Song after song came and went, and still they danced. Because finally, they could.

Xander dropped into the seat beside Buffy and handed her a drink. Buffy muttered something unintelligible.

"Okay," said Xander, "that could have been a 'Thank you, Xander,' or you might have been cursing me in Japanese."

"Cordelia Part Two: The Strangeness Continues." She gestured to the couple on the dance floor and shook her head. "I mean, look at that. I know I haven't been to LA in a while, but did they change it to an alternate universe or something?"

Xander turned just as Cordelia executed a devastating double-spin, came up short and fell laughing into Angel's waiting arms. A glimmer of a smile crossed Xander's face. That look of Cordy's, the laughter and warmth that exuded from her. He'd never seen her so unselfconscious. So natural. So real. For the first time since Xander had known her, Cordelia had eyes for nobody else in the room. She wasn't trying to make a statement or impress anybody, wasn't surreptitiously looking for a better option, didn't care how she looked or what anybody thought of her. Her whole heart was focused on the tall vampire who was holding her as tenderly as if she were glass and as tightly as if she were smoke that might slip away.

"Buff, as unspeakable as this may sound, coming from my lips, no less...Deadboy actually looks kinda...happy."

"Don't call him that," Buffy responded automatically, and resumed her intense scrutiny of the dancing couple.

"No, really." Buffy picked up her drink and turned to Xander. "Angel and Cordelia's business is their business, you know? I don't have a right to feel this way. Not any more. And especially since Sp-" She caught herself, and paled with shock at what she'd almost revealed.

Xander chuckled, then sobered. "Look, Buffy, I don't know exactly what's going on with them, either. But think about it. I was doing this little tally o' weirdness in my head, counting up all the strange stuff that happened here since they left. Guess where I got up to?"

"Lost count right around 'Willow's gay' and 'We merged our essences to make Matrix Buffy'," admitted Xander. "People change. Stuff...happens, you know?"

Buffy nodded emphatically. "Yeah. Stuff. Angel and Cordelia in a more than platonic groove kind of stuff."

"There is that, yes. But much as it pains me to say it, he's one of the good guys. And Cordy-"

"Yeah, the radiant glow kind of gave her away." Taking a deep breath, she added, "Plus, she's not the Cordelia I remember any more. She's actually really...nice. Who'd-a thunk it?" Buffy looked out onto the dance floor again. "They've changed each other, haven't they? For the good."

"I've decided to be Magnanimous Man," said Xander suddenly. "I think they deserve this. You know, one demon for another?"

Buffy glanced across at the couple again, and despite herself, a smile touched her lips. "Maybe you're right. Look."

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Radiance

By Loki

Lokibard@yahoo.com.au