Title:                 Roommates, Part Two
Author:             Tesla
Email:              Tesla1321@aol.com
Rating:             NC-17, this part
Category:      (romance)
Content:         (Angel/Cordelia, Cordelia/Wesley friendship)
Summary:       The events that summer after the office blew up
Spoilers:        Angel season one
Disclaimer:   The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss
	      Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:  Let me know, but I don't mind.
Notes:            For Tracy, who bought me; Starlet, who is my hero;
                       and Snow and Jennifer, who read everything I write.

Feedback:  You're kidding, right?

8.

Realizing that Angel had a little crush on her made Cordelia feel more like
the old Queen C than she had for months.  'Cause, that's what guys did, 
whether human, half-demon, and now, vampire: have crushes on the fabulousness
that was Cordelia.  Okay, that was a little over the top, she thought, but  now
she realized, she didn't have a crush on Angel.  She was just reacting to his
crush on her.

That lasted until about three.   "I don't want him to have a crush on me," she
told Dennis. "He's my boss, and a vampire, and my roommate right now."

Dennis rattled the silverware in the dishrack. "Yes, but you're not going to
get all icky on me, Dennis. We're pals." The coffee cup clacked emphatically
on the counter. "Exactly. I think."  The coffee cup moved from side to side.
"We're not pals? Dennis, I can't stand here and guess all day."

"Guess what?" Angel said. He came in, towelling his hair. "Cordy, if you like
my shower gel so much, I'll buy you your own bottle."

Cordy snorted. "Yeah, right, Mr. Big Spender." She pointed at the refrigerator.
"And you owe me for the blood, so we're even, 'kay?"

As she expected, mentioning his blood made him back off, for a second. "How
much do I owe you?" he asked.

"Nuh-uh. Like you have any money on you, buster."

"I have money," he said, his expression closing up.

"I'd smell it," she said triumphantly. "You said so, yourself. That's how I used
to find the petty cash."

"I used to hide it so you could find it," Angel said, looking at the fridge. She knew
he didn't want to take the blood out and heat it up with her standing there. 

Too bad.

"Oh, like a pet, huh? Hide the dog biscuit, see how long the puppy can find it?"
Cordelia saw his eyes flick towards the fridge again. "Hey, want me to nuke
your blood for you?"

"I'll do it," he said shortly. 

"Okay," Cordy said, and went to the living room to pick up her coffee cup. She
heard the refrigerator door open, then heard the pings of the microwave pad.
She went back in the kitchen.  Angel was leaning on the counter, arms folded.
He looked at her under lowered brows, but didn't say anything. 

She poured herself a cup of coffee.  The microwave pinged. 

Angel took the mug of blood out, and stood there.

"Hey, we can have a cup together," she said, sitting down. "C'mon."

He looked at her, and she saw comprehension dawn.  "You're baiting me."

"Well, duh."

He sat down with her. "Why, Cordy?"

"Well, we're back to blood. You can't deal with it, can you? I mean, I'm okay with
you being a vampire."

He stared at her.

"You know what I mean," she said impatiently.

"Not even half the time," Angel said, and absent-mindedly took a drink of his blood.

The front door opened, and she heard Wesley say, "Hello, Dennis. Still only two dead
people here? Or, no bits of vampire dust in the carpet? Excellent."

"In here," Cordy called. "You want a cup of coffee or one of blood?" She gave
Angel a soliticious look. "You choke on something?"

"No," he sighed. "Hello, Wesley."

Wesley smiled at them. "I got an unexpected telephone call this morning," he
said, sitting down. "Oh, Cordy, you don't have to---thank you." He took a drink
of his coffee.

Cordelia sat back down. "Wes, you look positively gleeful. It's scaring me. Give."

"Giles called me. It seems that he needed a very rare book---and I'm the only one
on the West Coast who owns it."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Score one for the ex-Watcher."

"Yes----I mean, no, naturally one doesn't gloat that a mere civilian's personal
library is more thorough than----well, of course, he's a mere civilian, too." Wesley
suddenly grinned. "Yes. It was very gratifying. Nothing urgent, of course, just
some research he's working on.  And, Cordelia, guess who's coming down
to fetch it?"

"Giles?" she asked. She put her hand on Angel's forearm. Giles wouldn't be 
crazy enough to send Buffy, would he?

"No, Xander Harris," Wesley said. 

She let go of Angel's arm. "Xander," she said, surprised. Then she smiled.
"Xander!"

Angel got up and washed out his mug, his back to her.


9.

If Xander had any trepidation about going to Cordelia's apartment, he didn't
show it. When she opened the door, there he stood, just as tall, broad shouldered,
dark mocha chocolate eyed, and badly dressed, as ever. In her mind's eye, Cordy 
saw the "paid" ticket on her evening gown, and threw her arms around his neck.

Maybe Xander had been a little worried, because she felt him relax in her arms,
and hug her back, hard. "Cordy," he said. "I missed you, Cordy!"

"Me, too," she said. She let him go, and took his hand and pulled him inside. "Did
Giles tell you about Dennis?"

Xander looked wary again. "Uh, no. Boyfriend? Roommate?" 

"Kinda sorta----he's my ghost roommate."  

"Oh. Glad to meet you, Dennis," Xander said to the ambient air. Cordelia was
obscurely pleased. It took more than ghostly roommates to faze a Scooby, as
she was constantly telling Wesley.

"Hey, Wes! So you're out-Giling Giles these days! Way to go!" Xander looked
sideways at Cordelia. "So, you two still dating?" He darted a look of pure 
Harris devilment at her. Way to lose the warm fuzzies, Xander.

"Good lord, no," Wesley said, unblinkingly. "That would be terribly incestuous."
He took off his glasses and looked at an imaginary speck. "You're the one with
the taste for the extremely outspoken women, I seem to remember. How is
Anya?"

Xander ducked his head, acknowledging defeat. "She's fine."

"Delightful woman. Most interesting stories," Wesley said, putting his glasses
back on. "Let me get the book for you."

She had forgotten that Xander and Angel didn't like each other.  Angel covered it
well, but she could tell by the stiffness of his shoulders that he wasn't happy at all.

"Still got cold hands," Xander said, shaking Angel's.

Angel smiled thinly. "Can't do a lot about it," he said.

Cordelia opened her mouth to say something diplomatic, but what came out
was, "Angel," in a tiny voice, as the vision crashed across her eyesight.

A creature in an alley, that night, and Xander cut off its head with Angel's sword.
"Santa Monica," she gasped, "Xander has to go with you." She put one hand on her
mouth, and turned her head into Angel's arm, throat burning.

"Xander," she heard him say, "could you bring her a glass of water? Wesley,
the good pills are on the mantel."  Then, his voice gentler, Angel said, "Bed
or couch?" to her.

"Couch," she said, nauseated. "And a Coke."  

Angel scooped her up and set her on the couch.  She didn't want to open her
eyes, and after a second, he stayed beside her, gripping her hand. "Xander
kills it, tonight," she said.

"Sh, sh," Angel murmured. "In a minute."

When she opened her eyes, though, she saw Xander kneeling in front of
her with a Coke. She took her hand away from Angel's to reach for the glass.


10.

"So I was in the vision, killing a monster?" Xander said, pleased. "Cool."

"Well, you've certainly had years of experience doing it," Wesley said. "And he
was using Angel's sword."

"How do you know it was my sword?" Angel objected. "It could have been---fine."

"Once again, key guy," Xander said. "Funny how that is."

"No, usually people starring in Cordy's visions are the victims," Angel said.
He was looking through the tiny coat closet. "Cordy, where're the swords? And
I know my throwing ax  is here."  

Her bedroom door opened. 

"Dennis says it's in the bedroom," Cordy said, her feet up on the couch.
"Yeah, I think they're all under the bed, wrapped in that tapestry from your
place. 

"Does he live here, or something?" Xander asked her, as Angel disappeared
into the bedroom. "I mean---his clothes are in the closet. There's guy stuff in
the bathroom. And, speaking as one who's had a vamp roommate, blood in
the fridge."

"You're quite the detective," Cordy said, rubbing her forehead. "Yeah, actually,
Angel does live here. For now. Since the bad guys blew up his building. And I
got zapped with  psychotic visions and needed someone here with me."

"Yeah, but, him? Why not, and I can't believe I'm saying this, Wesley?"

Wesley didn't look up from his map. "A concussion, broken rib, 10 stitches and, I
seem to recall, a nasty sunburn."

"Wesley was in the building when it blew up," Cordelia said. She sat up, 
shuddering. "I still can't believe it. I can't believe we're all alive."  Her eyes went
to Angel, coming back in with his sword and ax. "Or, more or less."

Wesley folded his map. "Xander, you can come back to my place for the night.
There's no telling how long this will take, and it's best if you don't start right back
for Sunnydale."

"Uh---" Xander said, giving Cordelia a Look.  Help me, it said. Save me from
English Breakfast Tea.

"Oh, but I wanted Xander here," she said.  "We need to talk and everything."

Angel tucked the ax under his arm. "Then I'll stay with Wesley," he said smoothly.

"Really?" Wesley said. "Well, I must say----I'll have to get some blood."

"I'll eat before we go," Angel said. "You still have Guinness, don't you?"

"Oh, of course. My couch is quite comfortable, and it's westward-facing."

"And Angel's just dying to take you on in Boggle," Cordelia said.  She laughed
as Angel gave her a very old-fashioned look.

"I think we need to head out and get this thing," Angel said. "Come on, key guy."

So, as usual, there she was at one in the morning, covered with demon gunk,
having fought the good fight and banished the last headache pain from her
vision.  Xander was still hyped up from his success at demon-killing. It was
amazing how guys did all act the same. He and Angel and Wesley were still
discussing how the thing had popped out of the sewer and used the manhole
cover as a Frisbee.  All Cordelia wanted was a bath and bed.  She remembered,
with dismay, that she'd swapped roommates. Instead of the broody, quiet one,
she had Xander, who'd never stopped talking since kindergarten.

She groaned inwardly, as Angel came up with her and collected his few things
in a gym bag, and a clean shirt. "What's up?" he asked. "Head still hurt?"

"No," she sighed. "I---take that pillow, you know Wesley won't have two. What
about towels?"

Angel gave her an opaque look. "How long were you planning on me staying with
Wesley? Do you want me to leave?"

"That's a big leap. You---" she looked him up and down. "Don't have any goop
on you at all." She pushed at his arm. "Why are you clean?"

"I ducked," he said. "Cordelia. Cordy, I---" The front door opened, and Angel
stepped back.  Xander came in, all hyper good cheer.

"Okay, point me to the shower," Xander said. "Wes is in the convertible."
He displayed a bundle of clothes. "He lent me some sweats. Is that guy
always prepared, or what?"

"See you later," Cordelia said wistfully to Angel. 

He didn't seem to hear.

11.

Actually, it wasn't bad.  Xander took a shower, and Cordy dozed on the couch
waiting for him to finish. She knew what it was like getting demon goo out of
your hair, and actually, once she washed her face and hands in the kitchen
sink, she found that it was only her clothes that were dirty. So, while Xander was
thumping around in her shower, she stripped and put on her robe.

It was two in the morning. A weird time to be awake, unless you were from
Sunnydale.

Xander came out, drying his hair, and she had an odd sense of deja vu.
"Hey, Cordy, is this what life in the big city's like? 'Cause it's kinda exactly
like Sunnydale, except you have to drive to get to the monster."

She slid her feet up, making room for him on the couch. "Pretty much.
The Powers That Be aren't that great with the timing, either.  So far, Angel's
always been there to catch me when I fall."

"Yeah, you seem pretty cozy with Dead Boy," Xander said. "Kinda weird
having him stay here."

"I hear you've had a vampire rooming with you, too," Cordelia said coolly. "At 
least my vampire has a soul."

Xander winced. "Yeah, Willow talks too much. But, Spike's all chipped, 
courtesy of the government.  Kind of a fangless wonder, now.  He can
kill other demons, and that's cheered him up a bit. But he's not---okay,
he's not Angel."  He perked up. "Riley's kind of a cool guy, though."

"Oh, yeah. Buffy made sure to rub Riley in Angel's face," Cordelia said.
Something about Xander made her want to argue. Like a reflex.  She 
fluffed the little pillow up. "And, Wesley's cracks aside----how is Anya?"

Xander gave her a lopsided grin. "She's a trip, all right." She felt him
study her. "You've changed, Cordy." At her raised eyebrow, he added,
"It---looks good on you."

She raised both eyebrows. "Duh!"

They burst out laughing.

Cordelia eventually dozed off again, and woke up, near dawn, to find herself
curled at one end and Xander at the other.  Stiffly, she got to her feet, and
pulled Xander's feet down. He didn't wake up, just stretched out, and she dropped
the throw blanket on him, before staggering to finish out the night in bed.

About two hours later, Xander got up and brought in Egg McMuffins. They
were still eating when Wesley came in.

"Gotta say, Dennis, you're handy to have around," Xander said. "So, you can
see who's out there? You're better than a security system." He wiped his mouth
and hands off with the paper napkins. "Well, Cordy, Wesley, it's been, uh, just
like home." He shook hands with Wesley. "Didn't bring Dead Boy with you?"

Wesley shook his head. "He's asleep. We stayed up for quite a while. Playing
Boggle, of course," he said to Cordelia.  

She choked.

"I remembered a cross-reference I discovered, and I made a copy of it for
Giles," Wesley continued, and gave Xander a manila folder. "You will take
care of the original, of course."

"Gosh, Wes, I hope I don't forget and leave it on top of the car like I did with
my English book, that time." Xander grinned at Cordelia. "Remember?"

"How could I forget?" She stood up and hugged him. "Give my love to everyone
in Sunnydale. Except Spike, of course."

"Spike!" Wesley said. "Good God!"

Xander carefully tucked the papers and his book into his old book bag, and
they walked him to his little car.

"He seems----very much the same," Wesley said diplomatically. 

"Yeah, well, he thinks I'm all haggard and aged," Cordelia said, leading the
way. "Have you eaten? There's still an Egg McMuffin."

"Cordelia, now you're just fishing," Wesley said.  "Where's the McMuffin?"


12.

Angel returned promptly at dusk, just after Wesley left on his motorcycle to
play darts somewhere. He hinted at money being wagered, and Cordelia
had wished him luck.

"Money," she told Dennis. "Hah. Maybe Angel and I should go down and see
exactly what he's up to with those...dart sharks."  She looked in the refrigerator.
"Well, he has to come home soon," she said, not bothering to define "he" to
Dennis. "His blood is here."  There was a knock at the front door. "And so is
he," she said. "Let 'im in if it's him."

Angel came in, muttering, "Thanks, Dennis."  He was carrying the spare pillow
in his bag, and his coat over one arm. He had pink slime in his hair and on his
shirt. "Sluger demon," he said. "This shirt is dry clean only." He dumped his 
coat and bag on the couch, and stood there for a second, an odd look on his
face.  "Xander gone?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "No, he's hiding in the closet. He's long gone."

Angel stood there looking at the couch for a moment. "So---everything okay
with you two?" he asked stiffly. He sat down on the couch to unlace his boots,
head down. "Never mind."

"Sure," she said, leaning in the doorway.  She watched him take off his shoes
and run his hand over the couch. "Why?"

"Nothing happen?" he asked, expressionless.

"What's with the twenty questions, Angel?"

"Nothing," Angel said. "I'm gonna shower, if that's all right."  He got up, and,
not looking at her, went into the bathroom.

She looked at the closed door with narrowed eyes. If she didn't know better,
she think he was jealous of Xander.

She got a small, pleased smile on her face. 

He was jealous of Xander. He could smell them both on the couch.

The water started in the shower. Cordelia straightened up and crossed to the
bathroom and knocked on the door.  No response. "Angel!" she called. He
ignored her.

She opened the door. "Angel!" The shower curtain moved slightly. She
stepped to the toilet and flushed it.

Angel yanked back the curtain, holding his towel up with one hand. "Jesus,
Cordy! What?"

He looked kinda cute with his hair all wet.

"I wanna talk to you!" she said. "Now!"

He wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped out onto the mat.
"What the hell now?" he asked. "Huh? I'm listening, Cordelia!"

"Why are you being so weird?" Cordelia demanded. Her eyes kept straying
to Angel's poochy tummy. Weird that he'd be so lean, but still have that cute little
roll----she jerked her eyes up to his face. 

"You came in here and started yelling at me," Angel said, one hand on the
towel, and both, almost visibly, on his temper. "I don't think I'm the weird one."

"Yes, you are, you're being all broody and pissy and---and a bad roommate!"

"I don't come in the bathroom while you're in the shower, " he said. "I don't
know why---" he backed her up against the door. The shower was still running.

"Listen, buster! You've been weird since Xander came, and he's gone now,
and you're still weird, and I don't like it!" She poked his bare chest. "I just
want you to know---" she stopped.

He looked thoroughly irritated. "What? What the hell do you---"

"Vision," she said, and pitched forward.

Oh, God, kids. Scared little kids.  A night-time daycare and a minivan full
of little kids, and vamps surrounding it and breaking the windows. The kids
were so scared, so scared, and the driver thought it was a carjacking and
was trying to let them have them have the vehicle, but they wanted the kids---
she felt their terror and their tears even more than the headache. The street
sign---the cross street---the name of the daycare----a vamp had her by the
throat, and she was so afraid and she wanted her mommy, her daddy, and
she was so afraid.

"I'm afraid," Cordelia was sobbing into Angel's bare shoulder. He was rubbing her
between the shoulder blades, shushing her, rocking her.  Her numbed fingers
could only find his bare skin to clutch, and it should have been odd but it wasn't.

"I got it, Cordy, I got it all," he said, rocking her. "I'll call Wesley and Gunn, we'll
take care of it." They were crouched on her wet bathroom floor.

She brought up one hand to swipe at her nose, and that's when she realized
she was clutching Angel's bare hip with the other. She jerked away as if she
were burned. He was staring at her, his eyes big and soft and brown---she
wouldn't look at him as she scrabbled away. "I'm still mad at you," she sobbed,
yanking a length of toilet paper from the roll and blowing her nose.

He stood up, and his long strong calves were at eye level. "I'm sorry, Cordy."
He was pissed off again, and he stalked out of the bathroom to get dressed.
She heard the shower turn off, and the door click.

"Thanks, Dennis." She lay on the damp bath map.  Her pills floated down to
her hand, and a glass of water. "You're the best. I'm just gonna stay here for
a little bit."  She curled up, and felt her robe drop around her.

She went to sleep.


She woke up to Angel's voice, and his hand on her shoulder.
"Cordy!" Angel sounded frightened, and she sat up, a hand to her head.
He was kneeling beside her, his black coat around him like Batman's cape.
"You scared me," he said unnecessarily, and before she could say anything,
he was hugging her. "I didn't know---I wouldn't have left---" he broke off to
peer at her, and damn that vampire eyesight. "Have you been crying all this
time?" he asked.

And he kissed her. 

They drew back from another, shocked. "Do that again," Cordy said. So he did.

God, she thought, now I know why Buffy always had that grin on her face. Angel
kissed the tearstains on her face, he kissed her eyelashes, and then she felt
his lips on hers again, and she opened her mouth to him.  His mouth wasn't
cold, it was warm. Oh, God. They were both on their knees, straining against
each other, and he was slipping her the tongue, and she wanted it. Wanted him,
and she slid her hands under his coat so she could feel the muscles of his back.
She grabbed the silk shirt in her fists and started pulling it out of his waistband.

He pulled his mouth off hers. "Cordy," he murmured. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get your shirt off," she said, nuzzling his neck. "And I'm thinking
that the tile floor is kinda hard on my knees." She let go, and reluctantly took
her hands out of his coat. "C'mon."

"Okay," he said,  and helped her to her feet. He moved in for another long kiss,
and there was that talented tongue again, doing that---thing---and boy, she'd
like to feel that mouth on the rest of her.

It took awhile to walk into her bedroom, because they were holding onto each
other, and because Cordelia was stropping herself against Angel like a cat.
She had an idea that she wanted to get him so worked up that he'd forget to
fold his pants, because, well, it would prove that she still had it. Angel would no
sooner leave his pants on the floor than he'd drink holy water, and she---kinda---
wanted to----God, he was hard----make him mess up the couture.

The coat was already on the hall rug, so go Cordy! Go Cordy! He leaned against
the footboard, and she carefully took the cufflinks out of his sleeves, clicking
them together in her hand before tossing them on a scarf on her dresser. He
slid his long fingers up the back of her blouse as she unbuttoned his shirt, and
she felt her bra unclasp. She raised her arms, and he pulled blouse and bra off
in one motion, before setting his hands on her waist and bending his head to
her breast.

She arched her back as he delicately tongued each nipple, and pulled at his
shirt until he let her pull it off and toss it behind her. Skin to skin was so much 
better, and she hooked her arms around his neck, standing between his spread
legs, as she rubbed her breasts against his chest. "Oh, God, Angel," she 
whispered in his ear, against his mouth. "Oh, Angel," and when he unzipped
her skirt, she stepped out of it and put one knee on the bed. He was right behind
her, murmuring her name, stroking her breasts, her belly, her hips, her head flung
back against his shoulder, feeling his erection on her ass.

When he put his hand between her legs, and pushed aside her thong, it was
soaking. "Want you," Angel said, "want you right now," and they fell on the bed
together.

She forgot about her joke with herself, as she helped him push his pants down,
and she climbed on top of him, his pants and boxers still around his ankles,
his boots still on. "Gonna ride you," she promised him, and his eyes closed
as she took him in, and it was----absolutely---the best----as she ground her
hips on his, and her breasts into his cupped hands, until he got one hand 
between them and began rubbing her clit right there, right there, oh god, Angel
you're the fucking best and he was just moaning and she came and came and
he came.

They collapsed, side by side, and Angel tried to kick off his boots and
pants without letting go of Cordelia. They started giggling at it, and she crawled
down the bed to yank the bootlaces and boots. He sat up and pulled off his
socks and boxers and pants. Somehow it wasn't ridiculous, but just how hot
they found each other. Angel pushed her back on the pillows and raised her
knees, and lay down between them, and she twitched before he even put his
talented tongue on her.

So what could she do beside return the favor? And Angel promised to
get her a new lamp. She got up to get some water because screaming made
her hoarse, and she brought a bottle of water and a cup of blood back with
her.  And Angel just drank it down, and then he went to the bathroom to
brush his teeth.  

She couldn't help it if she had to follow him in and wrap her arms around
his waist.  It wasn't like you could sneak up on a vampire.

After the third time, they lay, sleepily, together under the covers. Cordelia
was spooned against Angel's broad back, rubbing his belly, her face
against his tattoo, his butt tucked into her lap. His arm was thrown back
along her thigh.  He suddenly seemed to wake up, as if remembering something.
"Be right back," he said.  She lifted her arms and he slid away.

Hey, he couldn't be going to the bathroom, because, vampire.

"If you get up and pick up your pants," Cordelia murmured, "I won't sleep with
you again." 

Angel froze, then got out of bed anyway, bent down, and draped his pants across the 
footboard. Then he got back under the covers and smirked at her.

"Yes, you will," he said. "We're roommates." He rolled over onto her, still
grinning.

"Shut up and kiss me," she said, crossly.