All the Regular Things
Charge version 1.0
more AngelFic by the BuffyOtaku
Disclaimer: “Cordelia Chase” and “Doyle” are owned by the actors, the WB, Mutant Enemy, and other people who are not me. Don’t sue, as fanfic is the sincerest form of flattery. Lyrics as close as possible to “Charge” by Splendid, which is on the B:TVS soundtrack.
Summary:Cordy/Doyle smoochies, a companion to the X-Files version, and a few gross jokes. This is NOT part of my Angel Chronicles, just some random boredfic, set a few days after “Sense and Sensitivity.”
Rating: PG-13
(read v1.1)
(read v1.2)
language is an annoying necessity
and I depend on all the regular things
got a list tattooed on my memory
of how our tryst should unfold
I’ve been watching Cordelia for the last few days, and I’m beginning to think she’s been watching me, too. She’s been, well, different since Angel’s friend Kate told her to “open her heart to a new possibility.” She’s been quieter, smiling at me more, bickering less with Angel (and me, for that matter) and being generally nicer.
I’d be willing to bet she’s just thinking about the sensitivity thing. She saw Angel acting all weird and it might have gotten to her. I wish I wasn’t willing to bet any such thing.
I’m pretending to read the paper now, and I’m sipping at the awful polymalt scotch Angel keeps on hand for when I have my visions, but I’m staring at her as she silently types away at the computer. She seems to have a real gift for money management -- a good thing, too, because money tends to burn a hole in my pocket -- and she’s concentrating so hard on her work that she’s chewing on her lip in a way that makes me shift in my seat. I turn the page and try to read.
An hour passes, and she sighs and turns off the monitor. “Done. Finally.”
I don’t answer, pretending to be immersed in the score of the Vikings game.
“Doyle?”
“Hmm?” I say, all casual-like.
“I’m done for the day. Angel’s gone home. Why are you still here?”
I’m staring at you, I think to myself. To her, I say, “Reading the paper.”
“Don’t you get the paper at your apartment?” She asks dryly.
I nod. “Maybe I like to read it here. Better company.”
She smiles brightly. “Is that all?”
Well, that and my stunning crush on you. I shake my head. “Not all.”
She stands up and stretches, and I shift in my seat again. Damn her and her long arms and legs. She’s walking over to me now, and I stand up. “Ready to go?” I ask.
“Yep.” She links her arm in mine casually and reaches over to shut off the lights. As she’s locking the door behind her, she says, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Thinking?”
“Why do you make it sound like it’s so impossible? I am capable of rational thought, you know.” She pulls on my arm, half spinning me to face her.
We’re almost nose to nose when I say, “I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“You didn’t say I was.”
“You never asked.” I move closer to her, and she backs away until her back is against the wall of the hallway. I’m still coming toward her, and I put one hand on the wall by her head. I’m startled when she doesn’t move, or even flinch.
“Was I supposed to? Ask?” She’s nervous, and she looks down at her hands to drop her keys in her bag.
I cup her chin in my other hand and say, “You shouldn’t have had to wonder.”
I notice her hands on my shirt, her bag dangling between us, and she’s clenching the fabric as if to push me away. Instead, to my delight -- and surprise, I admit -- she pulls me closer and brushes her lips against mine.
you’ll find a magical key attatched
my heart’s unlatched
and I charge
Her mouth slips across mine, and I bury my hands in her hair. She sighs, pleased, and opens her mouth to suck on my tongue. I pull her closer, losing myself in the scent of her, the sensation of finally kissing her, until she backs away and smiles at me.
“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” I ask.
“Did I say it was bad?” She asks, her fingers still clenched in my shirt. She kneads the fabric and looks down. “It was nice.”
I don’t know what to say. In fact, I begin to wish I could think of something clever until her mouth captures mine again. We’re there for what seems like hours, just kissing, until I break away.
“Cordelia. You know we’re standing in the middle of the hallway between the office and Angel’s apartment.” I grin at her, disarmingly I hope, and she smiles back.
“He’d freak.” She frowns abruptly. “Unless he’s seen it coming.”
“Or at least breathing heavily,” I joke as she pulls away from the wall and almost saunters towards the parking garage door.
“What?” A pause. She stops and turns around. “Oh, I get it. Ewww.” Her nose crinkles and she turns back to pull on the knob.
I grin again as she opens the door and goes out, laughing. The door slams behind her and I wait until she fires up her car and drives away.
“WOOHOO!”
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