The Iron is Hot - Cordelia & Wesley
The Other Hours
Author : hold_that_thought
Summary : Three loves that never were. (Cordelia/Doyle, Cordelia/Gunn, Cordelia/Wesley)
Rating : PG-13
Spoilers : Through Angel Season 2
Feedback : Greatly appreciated APostModernSleaz@aol.com
Archive : More than likely okay, but please ask first
Disclaimer : The characters used within are the property of Mutant Enemy, Twentieth Century Fox, and of course Joss Whedon. It's their sandbox, I'm just playing in it.
Notes: Loosely based on Kita's Five Things challenge. Love to Nongenius for the beta and Soda for the encouragement when I got nostalgic for old-school Cordy pairings. Title and lyrics from Harry Connick Jr.'s "The Other Hours." (Completed 10/27/03)
I. How are you in the other hours? Do you pray for morning to arrive? Do you wonder how you can stay alive?
Everything had gone so wrong, so quickly. One minute, they had the Lister demons on the Quintessa, ready to sail to a safer life. The next....
If I pull the cable, I think I can still shut it off.
Angel, that's suicide.
It's all right.
He'd turned to Doyle, laid his hands on the half-demon's shoulders. "Take care of her."
Then Angel was gone.
And Cordelia was in Doyle's arms, just like he'd always wanted, but God, not like this. Christ, he'd never wanted it to be like....
The time for secrets and reservations was gone. Doyle shifted to his Brachen form because it was the only way he'd be strong enough to carry Cordelia home. She didn't even blink at the sight of green skin and spines, just bonelessly allowed herself to be scooped up like a child, head resting against his shoulder.
"Take care of her."
***
Sunlight crept across the office. She reflexively raised a hand to the blinds.
"Cor, you don't...."
"Oh." She sat back. "Right." Cordelia barked out a quick, bitter laugh that sounded hysterical and tinny to her ears. "Because it's not like Angel's gonna go all flamey...."
When Doyle smiled sadly at her, something inside Cordelia broke. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Didn't know how Angel could just be gone. Here she was, sobbing and making a racket in the office -- why wasn't Angel skulking into the room and helping her, or at least complaining that she was making enough noise to wake the undead?
Through the haze of her tears, she saw Doyle cross the room and settle next to her on the couch. Pushing some hair away from her face, he sighed.
"Wasn't supposed to be...." He shook his head. "It shoulda been me."
Cordelia sat up. "What? No, Doyle, you can't blame yourself."
"Yeah. Right. I was only continuing a fine tradition of lettin' other people die 'cause I wasn't man enough to do anything even vaguely heroic. So champions like Angel sacrifice themselves to save miserable wretches like me."
"And Angel would do it all over again if given the choice." Cordelia cupped his face. "You know that."
"I just wish...."
The kiss felt like a natural extension of their mourning. Timid and awkward, his lips seeking out hers, hands threaded through her hair. No more secrets, nothing left to lose. Angel's anguished screams echoed in their ears as Cordelia pulled him on top of her, clawing at his clothes. Together, they held the fragile memory of Angel between them, grief and regret expressed in touches and whimpers.
Everything had gone so wrong, so quickly. Angel was gone, and in his absence, Cordelia and Doyle clung to anything that would keep them breathing from one moment to the next.
***
II. Are you at peace in a troubled mind? Hoping no one else will find....
"I'm not sure if I've forgiven you yet."
Gunn looked at Cordelia over the top of the latest X-Men and raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to be forgiven for something?"
"Not with that attitude, mister." She leaned towards the mirror, ran her hands across her face and, apparently satisfied with what she did or didn't see, turned towards him, leaning against the dresser. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Aren't you going to ask what I may not have forgiven you for?"
"Thought I just did." Silence. She crossed her arms and gave her patented Don't Fuck With Me look. Gunn put the comic on the nightstand and sighed. "What didn't you forgive me for?"
"Calling me Stick Figure Barbie."
Gunn laughed. "You're joking, right? Woman, that was months ago."
"Two months, and I know. But I didn't remember until this morning." Cordelia tossed her hair. "I am many things, Charles Gunn. I'm Blindingly Painful Visions Barbie. I'm Think It Speak It Barbie. But there is no way in hell I'm Stick Figure Barbie." To illustrate her point, she pulled the white tank top tight across her body, showing off her curves and just a little bit of hip that peeked out over a pair of his old, cotton boxers.
"A'ight, I was wrong." He held up his hands in surrender. "You're not stick figure-y."
"Better believe it." Cordelia grinned and sauntered over to the bed, climbing in next to him. "You want sticks, I'll show you sticks. Just come back to Sunnydale with me."
Gunn slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her on the hollow of her throat.
It'd been an impulse, asking Cordy out on a date. Didn't mean to start getting close to anyone again. Not after Alonna.... Definitely didn't mean to think of the Princess-turned-Xena as anything more than an Annoyance-turned-Friend. They'd gone on an exifrabis nest raid. Wes had gone ahead to the hotel to check some translations and Angel had one of his ever more frequent disappearances, leaving Cordelia and Gunn to clean up.
Before he knew what he was doing, Gunn had kicked some demon guts aside with the toe of his boot and blurted out, "Y'wanna grab dinner or something?"
Cordelia managed to cover up her surprise pretty quickly. "Sure! You like Japanese?"
So it went. Awkward dates, slightly less awkward dates...next thing he knew, Cordelia was the last thing he thought about going to bed and the first thing waking up. And wasn't that unexpected. He hoarded the soft smiles she saved for him alone, the way she'd touch the back of his neck and force him to crack a grin whenever he started "going all Angel-lite" as she called it.
When the boss finally snapped and fired them, Cordelia and Gunn had each other to lean on, which made everything...better than it might've been. With Virginia keeping Wesley from feeling like a third wheel and the new Angel Investigations getting off the ground, life was pretty damned good.
Gunn looked at his girl, snuggled into the crook of his arm, and smiled. All this time, Cordelia was still saving him.
***
III. You're only playing dumb, 'til the other hours come.
Cordelia had already locked the door behind her and dropped the keys in her pocketbook when the phone in the office started to ring. "Oh, crap." Lipstick, datebook, tampon, lipstick, depressingly empty address book, lipstick, pack of gum, and oh my god how many lipsticks did she need? And how had the keys sunk to the bottom so quickly...there. She fished the keys out, flipped to the appropriate one, and jammed it in the door just in time for the phone to stop ringing.
Of course.
She shook her head and re-locked the door. Bad week, very bad week. Customers refuse to pay, Angel storms the office about two minutes away from going all Angelus on their asses, Wesley pops a bunch of stitches and has to go to the hospital.... Bad week.
She was halfway home when she impulsively stopped by a payphone. Feeding it all the spare change she had on her, Cordelia dialed Wesley's number. After all, what if that had been him calling the office? What if Virginia had gone home and he'd ripped some more stitches? No answer. Great.
***
"Hello?" Cordelia pressed her ear to the door. When she didn't hear anything, she knocked again. "Wesley? If you're not dead can you, like, gurgle or something? And if you are dead--"
"The door is unlocked, Cordelia," came his muffled reply from inside.
"Oh." She turned the doorknob, entering the gloomy apartment. "That was gonna be my next move. Geez, you look like shit. You okay?"
Wesley reclined on the couch, clutching a pillow to his chest and staring at the ceiling. Without looking at her, he nodded. "I'm fine."
"Yeah, you look it. C'mon, I'll get you a glass of orange juice or something."
"I don't need any orange juice."
"Fine." She walked over to the couch, carefully lifted his legs and slid herself underneath them. Wesley looked at her.
"You're not leaving, are you?"
Cordelia shook her head. "Not until you tell me what's wrong."
Wesley sighed. "If you must know, Virginia decided I was too dangerous. Or, at least, my work was."
"So she broke up with you? God, Wes, I'm sorry." She patted his leg. "If it helps, you're now the latest in a long line of monster hunter romances gone wrong."
"Great."
"No, really, think about it! I called Willow last week and she mentioned Buffy's boyfriend helicoptered away to who knows where, and Oz left Willow last year. Don't forget about Angel and Rebecca 'Raven' Lowell. And need I get into the long list of men I've cared about who've either died horribly or tried to impregnate me with demon spawn?"
Wesley gave her a wry smile. "We really are unlucky sometimes, aren't we?"
"Try doomed." They sat in silence for a few moments. Wesley fiddled with the seam of a pillow and Cordelia studied her nails. Finally, she sighed and said, "Did you mean it? When you said things were gonna get better for us?"
"Mostly."
Cordelia nodded. "Definitely doomed." Another stretch of silence, punctuated only by the nearby clock ticking. Poor Wesley. "You didn't deserve to get dumped right after getting shot. Then again, I didn't deserved rebar through the side after seeing Xander Harris mack on Willow." That made Wesley chuckle a little. Cordelia mock-frowned and smacked his thigh playfully. "Not funny. Anyway, Virginia was stupid to let a guy like you get away. How many sweet, loyal, sensitive almost to the point of being a woman, well-dressed, good looking men who can totally swing a broadsword does she think are out there? Not a lot, I'll tell you that."
"You think I'm good looking?"
"Don't forget sensitive like a woman."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he grinned. "You're not so bad yourself. You're quite brave, beautiful, and if I were a demon I'd be honored to have you bear my offspring."
"Oh, you're a riot tonight. You should get dumped more often."
"I'll try."
She always felt so comfortable around Wesley. Trading insults with him transported her back to the Sunnydale High library. Plenty of bad memories there, sure. But there were a lot of warm fuzzies there, too. Like that time she and Wesley had kissed.... "You ever think maybe it would have been easier if we'd really gotten together in Sunnydale? Stayed a couple?"
Wesley looked at her, clearly surprised. "I...well...that is to say...." He blushed. "I have to admit, I'd thought of it on occasion."
"Really?" She wove her fingers between his, brushing her thumb across his palm.
"Sometimes," he murmured.
Cordelia leaned over, carefully avoiding his injury, and cupped his cheek, kissing him featherlight on the lips.
When she drew back and looked at him, Wesley smiled. "Third time's the charm."
The End