Title: Changing of the Guard
Angel walked into the darkness of Cordelia's living room, listening.
Her CD player was on, playing something by Foreigner.
"Waiting For A Girl Like You."
The wail of a sax drifted through the air, setting a mood.
Through the closed bathroom door, he could smell the unmistakable scent of bath beads breaking in water, Cordelia's soft sigh like a whisper through his body.
He slipped off his coat, and rolled up his sleeves just as a loofah came floating in the living room from the direction of the kitchen.
It stopped abruptly, inches from Angel's glaring face.
He grabbed it out of mid-air, keeping a tight hold on the handle.
"From now on, Dennis, I'll be handling the loofah part. You can clean the water up off the floor afterwards."
There was a distinct chill in the air as Angel made his way towards the bathroom.
Title: One Morning at Cordelia's
Angel's in the kitchen cooking breakfast while Cordelia slumps on her couch, flipping through channels at a rate that even Dennis can't follow.
She pauses on an episode of Star Trek, the one with the bald captain, and considers one of the officers in the background.
"Hey." She says. "Angel! Come here a minute!"
Angel rushes out to the living room, half expecting a Fyarl demon to jump out at him.
"What's going on? What's wrong?" He asks, looking around for the danger, eggs cupped carefully in one palm.
Cordelia stands and points at the television.
"What?" He asks again, turning his head from her to the television, confused.
She points harder.
"Don't you see it?" She asks, gesturing to the Klingon warrior filling the screen. "The ridges, the teeth?"
Angel blinks, trying to work out the inner workings of his seer's mind.
"What are you talking about?"
"You look like a Klingon!" She exclaims, grinning at him.
Offended, Angel looks again, then back at her.
"C-Cordelia." Taking an unneeded breath and blinking his eyes close against the ache in his head. "I don't look like a Klingon."
"You really do!" She disagrees cheerfully. "Watch, I'll show you. Vamp."
The offended look turns affronted.
"I'm not vamping. I can't just vamp. I have to be angry." He shifts feet. "Or, you know, turned on."
He looks down at her, half waiting.
Cordelia gives him another dazzling smile and steps closer and for a second he thinks that maybe -
Her hand shoots out and smashes the eggs he's holding against his cotton and wool blended sweater.
Egg yolk drips from between his fingers as he gazes down at the wet spot on his shirt.
Dennis shimmers the lights, his version of laughing out loud.
Angel vamps without thinking and Cordelia crows in triumph.
"Ha! Same ridges and teeth." She considers him and inclines her head to the side. "But I think your eyes are prettier."
He blinks and smiles, turning back.
Turning away, she goes back to the couch and he stares after her.
"Do you know - I've never known anyone like you before." He says, shaking his head in amusment, going back to the kitchen, though an odd sense of disappointment settles in his belly, that she didn't try the other way to vamp him.
These are not the bid fic, Debs. Hopefully, I'll be posting them tonight.
Depends on the Nyquil dosage, I think. *g*