Joss owns all including probably me.

This small piece was written very haphazardly at work and was not exposed to my usual self-critique so apologies in advance for all the little bits you mightn't like. Being a B/A fan, I enjoy the platonic friendship between Cordy and Angel so that’s what I write.

I have a kind of story arc in mind that I might get around to but Making a Point is just a small piece examining the initial growth of friendship between the two.Thanks to everyone for all the positive feedback, its great to get so please review, if you think its good, bad or indifferent !!

Making a Point.

Dipping her head under swinging arms and squeezing between heated tangled bodies that seemed strangely illuminate under the overhead strobe lights, Cordelia slowly edged her way through the dancing revellers, her eyes seeking escape. Once free of the heaving dance floor she gazed the length of the club, finally spying an open doorway at the far end.

Pulling her bag over her shoulder, Cordelia moved toward it, inwardly appreciative of the admiring looks invoked in those she left in her wake. The pretty nineteen-year old walked with an assured poise, each pace taken with the once brash, now wiser confidence of youth. She walked with a deep conviction of self, past battles for survival carving her own unique indelible hold on life into every step. It was, Cordelia thought with wry humour, her "I may not be the Slayer but no demon has beaten me yet," walk.

The brunette spared a quick smile for the bouncers as she stepped past them into the cool night air, her skin immediately tingling in its chill. Cordelia shivered as she tugged her bag from her shoulder, dropping it to the damp sidewalk beneath. She slipped a jacket over her bare arms, mentally thanking the weather conscious ghost who, had earlier insisted his roommate dress warmly, despite her vehement insistence that global warming had heated L.A. nights in the years since his demise. The argument had ended with the ghost had repeatedly flinging the jacket at Cordelia until the teenager finally acquiesced to his demands.

"I owe you one Dennis" Cordelia murmured as with one sweep of her hand, she flicked long dark hair over the collar. She glanced at her watch, her eyes wandering upward from it's silver face to rest on the tempting door of the taxi firm on the opposite side of the street. Taxi, Cordelia thought longingly, warm, fast, safe taxi.

Bills, the voice she was learning to call Budget Cordy scolded, Unpaid bills. Taxis are expensive and are therefore bad, public transport may be smelly and full of strange people but it is cheap. And cheap is always good.

With a sigh, she picked up her bag and reluctantly tore her eyes away from the office.

Bus it would have to be.

"Besides" Cordelia muttered, as she turned and began a brisk walk, "Knowing my luck, I'd end up with a taxi driver from the world of the not living."

Vaguely aware that believing walking through the city after one o' clock in the morning was safer than a taxi ride home was bordering on the plain ridiculous, Cordelia stepped up a pace as she crossed the street, her hand fumbling purposefully in her bag. She sighed in quiet relief as her fingers wrapped themselves tightly around a small vial of holy water. She hadn't forgotten it after all.

Safe as houses.

Fears vanquished, Cordelia's thoughts drifted to Angel and Doyle as she retreated along the route that had taken her to the club a few hours previously, then in Serena's car. She had left the office shortly after her friends returned from yet another successful demon fest, Doyle covered in a slimy goo, Angel immaculate apparently having escaped the demon's mucus ejection. Doyle had looked so funny with his…

She stiffened, her wandering thoughts banished by a sudden screaming awareness of a presence, behind, no, near her. Whoever, whatever it was, was uncomfortably close. Too close. Her pace never slowing, Cordelia scanned the street, quiet desperation intensifying as she tightened her hold on the small vial of blessed water. Drawing it into the palm of her hand, she drew it from her bag and dread settling in the pit of her stomach, she fumbled awkwardly with the lid.

Shit, dark street, get out of here first. Don't run yet. Don't run yet.

Somehow, her rattled limbs obeyed the panicked command. Acutely conscious of the clicking of her stilettos on the ground beneath, Cordelia concentrated, her eyes focused on the lights at the end of the street, her breathing in synchrony with every second footfall. Get to the end of the street.

She hadn't time. Realisation struck as the presence loomed ominously near and she accepted it with one long breath. Her finger thumbing the lid of the vial upward, hand ready to hurl its contents into the face of her would be assailant, Cordelia swirled around with a scream and slammed straight into a broad, solid chest. A familiar broad solid chest, she realised as she lifted her head in bewilderment, dazed from the sudden impact.

"Angel?" Cordelia asked weakly as she looked up into his implacably calm eyes. He looked at her silently.

"Angel?" she repeated angrily as she pushed against him, finding the movement did little to shift him, "What the hell are trying to do. Frighten me to death?"

Angel lifted his eyes from her pale face and glanced sideways, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. He stepped back, the dark night almost enveloping his black garbed form. He had watched Cordelia make her lonely trek in the darkness, his mind jumping between fear and anger as he followed her. Thoughts of the demon he and Doyle had fought earlier had assailed every sense, images of what might have happened if he hadn't killed it, if it was here instead of him, what it might do to Cordelia…

What anything or anyone could do to her this late, this dark. His dead heart strangely heavier, Angel turned to her sombrely. "Walking alone this late at night, something sure will." He clipped each word, pushing dark promise into every syllable.

Cordelia flinched under his intimidating expression. It was, she decided, one of his better bad vamp looks, with his eyebrow slightly lifted, the barest hint of a knowing smile tugging on his lips, his eyes boring into her own, daring defiance. She was almost daunted, almost. If he hadn't just scared a week's growth out of her nails, she might just care. As it stood, she was just plain angry.

"Look mister," she pointed an accusatory finger at him, pushing it hard into his chest. "You can sneak around all you want during office hours but in my own time, there's none of it, no frightening me and mandatory humming if you're anywhere nearby, which you shouldn't be this late anyhow. Got it?"

His eyebrow arched higher as he looked pointedly at her wagging finger and Cordelia glanced at it herself before dropping her hand to her side almost bashfully. "And furthermore," she allowed her voice to drop a pitch or two, forcing a reasonable tone, "I am perfectly capable of defending myself in this or any street."

"Like just now?" Angel asked quietly, his expression darkening a little.

Cordelia glanced upward in irritation. "Yes like now" she glared at her employer, frustrated by his seemingly completely unrepentant attitude, "Like right now, if I hadn't recognised you, you'd be wearing this."

She had barely lifted her hand when she found it snapped down as in one breathtakingly quick movement, Angel knocked the vial, grabbed her wrist and spun her around. He clamped his other hand over her mouth and tilting her against him, he walked her into the adjacent alley. Cordelia's muffled threats were as useless as her attempts to fight for freedom and the vampire maintained an easy hold on the girl as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Don't ever tell me you can take care of yourself out here."

Angel released his grip and Cordelia stumbled away from him, bristling with fury.

"Screw you," she spat at him, her voice a mixture of angry humiliation and betrayal.

The vampire sighed in deep frustration as with a furious glare, Cordelia stalked past him. Calm, Angel told him-self, years of practice forcing the demon to hush. He flung out a hand in useless appeasement as he stepped behind her. "Cordelia," he began with a cajoling tone.

"No," Cordelia spun around and he winced at the fire burning in her hazel eyes, "You don't get to manhandle me to make a point Angel, all right? Its bad enough having demons trying to attack your front line of defence which let me see, oh yes, is me every day in the office without you doing it at night as well."

"That’s not what I…"

"You scared the life out of me tonight. You know how scared I was of Sunnydale, of this city? And now I've settled a little, I'm more confident, more self reliant, I don't jump at shadows in the night anymore and you go sneaking up on me like some sort of crazy?"

"You should be scared of the shadows." Angel said quietly.

He watched her expression melt into confused anger. "What?"

The vampire dipped his head back and stared up at the stars overhead, wondering how he could impress his fears upon the young girl standing in front of him. She couldn't possibly understand the darkness in others, in him. Annoyance rippled through his mind as he amended that thought, she should know. Cordelia was a veteran of Sunnydale, she knew evil. Hell, she had dated evil. He closed his eyes and bathed in memories of those times, when he could swoop into a fraternity house and save Buffy, save her friends. Sunnydale may have been rife with the undead but it was small and its demons predictable. Then he had resources, Willow, Giles, hell even Xander. He had found Buffy and Cordelia relatively easily that time. Here in L.A., the city was so damn big, Cordelia so damn small. So damn young.

He straightened and allowed his eyes to rove over her face. Somehow, she and Doyle had managed to push life into his existence and he had learned to care for them over the past few months.

"Hello, earth to vampire?"

He might have smiled, were it not for the nagging doubts whispering in the back of his mind. A fear that this tenuous hold on normality might shatter, that somehow he might lose all that he had gained. That he might lose, he slowly articulated, Doyle or Cordelia. The ancient urge to protect welled deep within, surprising him with its force. So many people had been hurt in the past, Angel remembered painfully, he couldn't allow harm to fall upon those closest to him now. The vampire squashed the urge to bundle Cordelia into his car and drive her home, knowing that as with another Sunnydale girl, bullying tactics wouldn't work. Mental tactics, it would have to be.

"I don't get it Cordelia" he said finally, "I don't get why you would walk alone this late. You of all people know what's goes bump in the night."

"I should, I work with one such bump." Cordelia growled back. Her expression softened as she recognised the sting in her own words. "Angel, I didn't mean that, its just that you really scared me back there and after…"

"I know, I'm sorry I got rough" Angel grimaced apologetically "I just wanted to make a point."

Cordelia stared at him silently, demanding more than a muted apology.

"Obviously a bad decision," Angel said meekly, wondering just how a 244-year old vampire managed to be intimidated by a nineteen-year old ex-May Queen.

Cordelia's disapproving glare lightened fractionally. "Obviously," she agreed.

He nodded and placed a guiding hand on her back. "Cars this way," he murmured "Let me drive you home." To his immense relief, Cordelia didn't demur and instead stepped into a sullen stroll beside him. Sulking, he guessed with a probing side- glance. Better sulking than dead.

"I am sorry I scared you Cordelia," he echoed his apology, "But I still don't want you walking out here so late. I don't understand why you would risk…"

Cordelia drew to a sharp halt and the vampire halted both step and sentence to assess her questioningly.

"I couldn't afford a taxi home," she said flatly, swinging her arms out in gestured defeat. "It’s a fifteen minute ride, it's peak time and I couldn't afford it all right Kojak? I had intended walking home with other people but I wasn't feeling well so I left early. That’s it, that’s the reason stupid Cordy was potential demon fodder tonight. Satisfied?"

Her eyes fell to the ground, apparently tracing the outline of her shoes.

Angel stuck his hands in his pockets, tilted forward slightly and leaned his head to one side. He waited patiently until she lifted subdued eyes to meet his querulous gaze.

"Why didn't you call me to pick you up?" Genuine bafflement laced his voice.

Cordelia rolled her eyes, a sharp breath escaping her lips.

"Angel I can't always come running to you. You already helped me out enough as it is, what with the whole saving my life gig, the job, cleansing the apartment. I'm not going to start bugging you for rides."

Angel straightened and surveyed his young associate meaningfully, plagued by self-castigation. You're too damn hard on her, she finds you unapproachable. You let her work on the most terrifying cases and you don't reassure her of your protection, of her right to it?

Stop wallowing Angel. He could almost hear Buffy's exasperated voice reprimanding him, her unique wisdom still his best source of strength. Deal.

Angel looked firmly at Cordelia.

"Cordelia, that’s not bugging me. What bugs me is the idea that you're walking around this city after dark. Thoughts like that are enough to send me back to the good old lurking days. I'm sorry I jumped out on you. It wasn't the best way to explain." Angel paused as he struggled to find the right words, a tight grin springing to his lips. "Maybe I should take that social skills class, huh?"

His teasing drew a small smile to the teenager's face. "Maybe not," she answered softly and her relaxed demeanour encouraged him to continue. Slipping a hand from his pocket, Angel reached out and tugged her own hand. He clasped it tightly and smiled bashfully as he watched surprise spark in her eyes. Angel was rarely demonstratively affectionate. Angel was rarely affectionate full stop.

He cleared his throat and began uncertainly.

"Cordelia, you and Doyle are all I have now. I may not say or show it all that well but I care about you. I worry about you. We worry about each other." Angel shrugged, "You don't like to go out until you know Doyle and I call in after a battle. Doyle called me twice tonight to remind me to drop by to see if you'd needed a ride home. We are all we have got in this town."

His expression grew askance.

"So, please Cordelia promise me, You'll call me for anything at all. And that you'll never do anything like tonight again, anything that could put you in danger. Ever."

Angel deliberately emphasised the final word and braced himself for her reaction. Knowing Cordelia, it would be unpredictable.

And it was.

Surprised and touched by Angel's concern, Cordelia's expression grew thoughtful. Goddamnit, the nineteen-year old considered her fading anger with mild annoyance, The great big hulk looks practically vulnerable standing there, how am I supposed to be mad with him?

The truth was, she wasn't mad. She was grateful, for all he had done for her, for all he continued to do for her. She was even grateful, in a round about way, for tonight.

Cordelia stood on her tiptoes and tugging on the lapel of his duster for support, she planted a kiss on Angel's cheek, enjoying the surprise racing into his eyes as she leaned back on steady feet.

"I promise," she smiled and looping an arm with him, the aspiring actress led the vampire toward the car. "That doesn't mean I like you skulking around at night after me but I promise I won't walk alone late and I'll call you if I need anything." Her final words were strangled by a yawn.

"Good." Angel replied lightly, "That's all I ask," She muffled another yawn. ""Lets get you to bed."

He winced as her eyebrow lifted. "I meant let's get you to your bed. Alone."

"Sure you did Angel." Cordelia untangled her arm from his with a knowing smirk, "I wondered when the whole sexual favour thing would start." She strode toward the passenger side, leaving the vampire struggling to redeem himself.

Angel watched as Cordelia waved goodnight from the doorway of her apartment. The lights had switched on as he had pulled up outside, Dennis was obviously awake. With a final wave, his youngest associate disappeared inside and Angel turned the key, the engine purring to life.

At least she's home safe.

An unbidden memory of another girl, a little older than Cordelia sprang to mind. Tina. He had failed her bitterly. Waves of protective determination billowed in the vampire as he pulled the car away from the apartment block.

He would not fail Cordelia.

Cordelia dropped into her seat with a sigh, eyeing the pile of paperwork on her desk.

"Angel, up yet?" she shouted in to Doyle who sat huddled over something at Angel's desk.

The Irishman glanced up from the axe he was cleaning with great care. "Not yet but he left you a present when he came in this morning."

Cordelia cast a speculative gaze around her desk, her eyes falling upon a small parcel. "Oooh," she said gleefully as she pounced upon it, tearing the wrapping, "I must have guilted him real bad."

"I don't think so…" Doyle answered from the inner office, " From what he told me, I think he's trying to make a point."

Cordelia removed the cell-phone from its box, a small smile curving on her lips as she read the tag.

"No excuse for not calling. 243 year old Taxi driver ready and willing. In Daytime hours, Irish sidekick will oblige."

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