Scribes Of Angel

TITLE: Pure Emotion
AUTHOR: Michael Dewar (Note: I am NOT a C/A shipper! Just thought I’d share that now, before you get started.)
RATING: PG
FEEDBACK: to aamdewar@iafrica.com
SPOILERS: None (set after the Prodigal - you know, back in the good ol’ pre-Beige-Angel-days. When Wesley was still pretty much a wuss.)
SUMMARY: Cordelia and Angel finally realize they are right for each other. Or do they?
DISCLAIMER: Angel and all its characters, concepts etc. belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I only own the plot. But the plot's mine, ya hear?

Pure Emotion

by Mike Dewar

Pure Emotion (Prologue) -
What the world needs now...

Angel stalked down the pale, blue-tinted passage. His long black coat seemed to mirror his internal discontent, swirling about his feet in a black flurry.

"I'm still not sure this is a good idea..." he muttered nervously to his companion.

"Shush!" Cordelia ordered sternly, walking along beside him, her heels clicking on the polished, sanitized floor. "We're here, and you're not going to back out now."

Angel flinched, and drew his coat around his shoulders as they rounded the corner. He tensed instinctively as a thin man loomed up in front of them, extending a bony hand in greeting.

The gangly, almost skeletal figure smiled. A small badge on his white shirt identified him as 'Richard'.

"Hello, and welcome to the Moonside Recreation and Relaxation Spa. I trust you found your way here with no trouble?"

"We did," Cordy confirmed. She shot a sidelong glance at Angel. "Even though someone tried to get lost along the way."

Angel coughed. " I'm not good with directions," he said feebly.

The man inclined his head, thin lips curving upwards. "We are all travelers on the journey of life,” he agreed placidly. "We follow many paths to reach our destinies, and sometimes we require guidance to reach them."

" Uh-huh," Cordelia broke in. " But at the moment, I 'require' a facial. So, if you can, like, point us in the right direction?"

‘Richard’ smiled even wider. "Third door on the left. Enjoy your rejuvenation."

As the pair moved off, Angel sighed. "Remind me again why I'm here? I don't get wrinkles."

Cordelia waved her finger in front of his nose. "You're here because I went to Hell and back to get into this spa, and there is no way I was showing up unescorted. It’s the trendiest place I could afford on that measly sum you call a salary, and I’m sure there’ll be a few names here to see me. To get ahead in the acting business, a girl needs to be seen, and to be seen with two things."

"Uh…luck and talent?"

She shook her head. "Poor, naive, dead person. A handsome man, and a nice car. Luckily for me, you came as a package."

Angel grimaced. "Yippee."

"Hell and back," she reminded him.

"Done that. This is so much worse."

Cordelia rolled her eyes and dragged him into the facial room.

Angel grunted in pain as well-manicured hands slammed relentlessly into his shoulders. On the table next to him, Cordelia winced as her own enthusiastic masseuse jabbed his fingers into the small of her back.

"So, this is healthy," Angel said dryly. "My, the things we learn." He winced. "Can you calm down a little, please?" he pleaded.

The big masseuse just grinned blankly at him, moving his shovel-like hands further down Angel’s spinal cord.

"I don’t think they speak English,” Cordelia said grimly. "You’ll just have to tough it out. Ow!”

"Or I could just save this guy the trouble and rip my own backbone out." Angel grumbled. He flinched again. "And didn't that herbal body shampoo smell strange to you?"

Cordelia tried to shrug, but was ruthlessly pinned by her masseuse. "It should smell strange. It's herbal."

"Cordelia, tea is herbal. That doesn't mean it's a good idea to rinse your entire body with it."

She rolled her eyes. "Quit complaining. You have no idea how hard it was to book a session at night, so you didn't spontaneously combust or something.” She snorted in response to his warning glance. "They don’t speak English, remember?”

Angel tried to reply, but found his face shoved into a towel as his masseuse started on his neck. But Cordelia was fairly certain that the frantic muffling noises he was making were nothing more than the usual whining. She put Angel out of her mind and tried to enjoy having her back muscles re-arranged.

Finally, the torturers withdrew and Cordelia sat up, wrapped in a towel. " There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now, onto the mud baths."

" Goody," Angel muttered into his towel.

After the mud baths, there was an exercise room. After the exercise room, there was a salad bar. After the salad bar, there was another exercise room, followed by more terracotta bathing. After that, there was colonic irrigation. Even Cordelia refused to try that.

"It’s time for your last session,” Richard announced placidly when they had fended off the disturbingly aggressive irrigation attempt.

"Thank God,” Angel muttered, clawing at his hair. The mud had mixed with his hair gel, and was rapidly congealing into a solid brown cake on his scalp.

Ignoring him, the bone-thin man continued. "We call it 'the Peace Room'." He placed his hand upon a smooth white door, and it swung open to reveal a quiet, empty room, with the walls painted black.

Cordelia nodded. "Okay, cool. Is it good for hair? Because the mud left mine kinda crusty, you know?" She glanced at Angel. "And let’s not even talk about him.”

Richard just kept on talking. "We will place you in this room for fifteen minutes, to harmonize your aura, which will allow waves of peace and contentment to suffuse your being. As for the hair, take a long hot shower."

"Harmonizing auras. Showers. Got it.” Cordelia nodded, ignoring Angel’s frantic head-shaking, which was sending brown flakes cascading onto his shoulders.

"Cordy, enough is eno - "

" Jeez, Angel. Can't you just go with it, and try think about someone else for a change?" she practically snarled back.

"I sense much darkness in your aura, Angel," 'Richard' said placidly. " The Room shall soothe it. Please, enter."

The small dark door closed behind them, leaving the two in near-total darkness.

"Spooky," Cordelia murmured.

"A complete and utter waste of time," the vampire judged, glancing around at the unexciting décor. "Why couldn't you have taken Wesley?"

Cordelia snorted. "Please. I have some pride, you know? Besides which, you're a vampire - don't you find all this spiritual stuff interesting? You're always chewing ties down in your apartment."

He winced. "Tai Chi, Cordelia. It's called Tai Chi. And I believe in demons, vampires, ghosts, werewolves, spectres, zombies and witches. Not in funny herbal baths and 'soothing auras.'"

"Well, what about that guy's comment about your aura?" she challenged. "He knew you had a dark aura, and you've never been all sunshine and flowers. Plus, the dead thing."

Angel sighed deeply. "Cordelia, I'm wearing black. That generally suggests I'm not a bright, happy person. This is just a second-rate con job, with spotless floors, robot attendants, strange herbs..." Soft twanging music began to play from a speaker in the roof. " ...and bad New Age tunes. An expensive waste of time."

"Well, everyone I spoke to swore by it," Cordelia said huffily, sitting down on the floor.

The vampire crouched down beside her. "Someone actually looked you in the eyes and told you this place was worthwhile?"

Cordelia looked guilty. "Well, I read it in Cosmo. Same difference. Look, Angel, just play along, please?” You know the acting thing is hardly soaring away, but if I can just be seen at the right places, with the right people..."

Angel looked into her pleading brown eyes, and tried not to feel like he was kicking a puppy. "All right. Only fifteen minutes more," he agreed, leaning back against a wall and folding his arms. "How bad can it be?" The twanging music got louder and soft spotlights began to trace their way over the walls in slow, flowing patterns. "Why did I say that?" he wondered to himself.

Cordelia closed her eyes and leaned against him, sighing slightly. Her dark head nestled into his shoulder and Angel let his eyes close. Maybe it wasn't that bad, he decided in the quiet darkness behind his eyelids, holding her in his arms.

"Thank you for coming," Richard said peaceably. "Do visit again."

Angel nodded, scratching the back of his head and yawning. Most of the mud had fallen out while they were in the Peace Room, unfortunately landing on Cordelia’s dress as a result. If he was really lucky, she wouldn’t get near a reflective surface until he was long gone.

"See? Not so bad?" Cordy said cheerfully, as the vampire yawned a second time and stretched. "Hey, talking here, Tonsil-boy!" she complained.

"Sorry, Cor," Angel grinned, slinging an arm around her shoulders. " Just a bit tired. It felt like we were in there for hours."

Cordelia smiled up at him, white teeth glinting. " Uh-huh. Drive me home?"

" Sure," he answered, as they approached the door.

The elderly, craggy-faced doorman, dressed in a spotless white suit like everyone else in the spa, smiled at them as they walked out. "Have a nice night, sir, ma'am."

"Thanks," Angel said over his shoulder, as they walked into the night.

As they approached the car, she looked up at Angel again, her perfect features serious. "Angel."

"Hmm?"

"I just want you to know how much I appreciate this. All of this." Cordelia said sincerely.

His eyes twinkled with amusement. "What can I say, I'm a sucker for a pretty woman."

Cordelia's lips curved in a sweet smile. "You think I'm pretty?"

Angel looked down at her. "Yes, I do," he answered softly.

Cordelia swallowed. "Oh." There was a question in her eyes, and he answered it, moving down to press his lips against hers. It was the gentlest, most wonderful kiss either of them had ever experienced, and she deepened it, wrapping her arms around his neck with eager strength. unwilling to break the contact of their lips, they staggered over to Angel's car. In a single smooth movement, Angel lifted her in his arms and placed her in his car, then leapt in after her. She giggled as he moved closer. Then their lips were against each other, and the time for giggling was over.

The doorman leaned against a wall, smiling warmly as he watched the couple from afar. "Young love," he commented to the figure next to him. Richard, his pale eyes intent on the two, merely nodded in agreement.

Pure Emotion - Act 1 -
...is love, sweet love

Wesley sighed. Meticulously, he brushed a speck of dust off his desk. He looked at the office door. He looked at his watch. Another sigh.

Wesley stood up and paced awkwardly up and down, humming. He looked at the door. He looked at his watch. He sighed.

"This kind of behaviour is totally ridiculous, Angel," he announced to his desk. "And I feel - no, too pushy....Angel, could we please have a talk about - no, too wishy-washy." Wesley pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning. "Oh, hang it all!" Giving a mental shrug, he meandered over to a pile of weapons left over from a previous patrol and began to sort through them.

Wesley held a large double-headed axe up to the morning light, studying the edge. It was severely notched, and needed hours of sharpening, but nevertheless he smiled slightly as he remembered the battle that had damaged it...him and Angel against a dangerous Kangost demon....he'd saved the day that time. Admittedly, he had saved the day by getting knocked to the floor and nearly killed, distracting the demon so that Angel could behead it, but he had helped. He had done something worthwhile.

It was quite a nice feeling for Wesley. To be needed...to be a companion-in-arms, not just a gray man in a suit, yelling orders at Slayers, who would promptly ignore his orders and listen to Mr Giles instead...

Wesley shook away the bitter thoughts and straightened up, the axe in his hand. He adjusted his cream-colored jacket.

"Wesley Wyndham-Price, rogue demon hunter," he announced, eyes glaring challengingly at his desk.

"Wesley Wyndham-Price, rogue demon hunter," he repeated. Not quite right.

"Wesley Wyndham-Price, rogue demon hunter." No, definitely not.

He squared his jaw and leveled the axe at the desk. "Wes - "

Behind him, he heard the office door open. In a move that would have done a Slayer proud, Wesley whipped the axe under his jacket and turned, plastering a happy smile across his features.

"Hi, Wesley," Angel said cheerfully, pulling a shielding blanket off his head as Cordelia closed the door behind them.

"Hi, Wesley," she said, turning away from the door.

"H-hello," Wesley said faintly, raising a hand in greeting. Unfortunately, the movement dislodged the axe from its tentative position tucked under his jacket and it fell with a loud metallic thud to the floor. With admirable self-control, Wesley managed not to look down at the axe embedded in the carpet bare inches from his foot. "Hello," he repeated.

"You're looking slick today," Angel said pleasantly, as he and Cordelia strolled past him, ignoring the vibrating metal weapon in the floor.

Wesley preened. "Thank you, An -" He caught himself. Stern, Wyndham-Price, he reminded himself. Stern.

Turning and following the two of them further into the office, he raised an aggressive finger, "Angel, I know I'm the new man on the team here, and far be it for me to step out of my place, but we aren't exactly financially stable, and it certainly reflects badly on the company as a whole if its owner and one of his employees just stroll in at eleven-thirty. What if someone had seen you two just come wandering in, chatting....and uh, giggling? And walking hand in hand?" He paused, the finger waving vaguely around in the air, his eyebrows raised.

Angel and Cordelia entered the lift, leaving Wesley standing alone, finger still hovering. "I'll take your suggestions into account," the vampire told him as he pulled the grate into place. He kissed Cordelia on the cheek as the lift started downwards.

Wesley just stood there, alone in the office with a large axe stuck in the floor a few meters away from him. "I think I've finally gone insane," he told his desk.

The desk, predictably, had little to say in response.

Wesley stared dejectedly at a pile of files. "Uh...the Sanderson case. How's that one going?" he asked.

"I'll get around to it. Some time,” Angel said vaguely, sitting perched on the edge of Cordelia’s desk. He smiled down lovingly at her. "No problem.”

Wesley stiffened. "No problem? Angel, the man is suffering from a magical curse that will turn him to stone within a week!"

"So?" Cordy asked, staring upwards into Angel's eyes. "That's seven days. Plenty of time. Angel'll get it done. He always does."

"Thanks for the support, Cor," Angel said, kissing her on the forehead.

Cordelia giggled softly. Wesley valiantly fought the urge to vomit. They'd been like this for hours, alternately gazing at each other as if their brains had turned to sludge, and then necking furiously.

He cleared his throat. " Ahem. Ahem. Ahem!"

Angel pulled his lips away from Cordelia’s. "What is it, Mr Cranky-Pants?"

Wesley spluttered. "Cranky-Pants? What kind of a - "

"Oh, relax, Wesley," Cordelia interrupted, still gazing adoringly at the vampire, "Angel's just teasing, aren't you, my Angel?"

"You always know what I'm thinking," Angel replied, smiling as he moved down to kiss her again.

"Oh, for the love of God,” Wesley groaned. "Please, not again.”

Angel pulled back from Cordelia's eager mouth suddenly, frowning. Wesley lifted his head slightly. "I'll go church every Sunday and always put extra in the collection tin," he promised hopefully heavenwards.

"You've smudged your lipstick, my love," Angel told Cordelia, smiling. "Here, let me make it better."

Wesley moved on to a new deity. "Oh, Zeus, King of the Gods, grant this boon..."

Angel carefully re-applied Cordelia's plum lipstick, then kissed her nose adoringly.

"Oh, Thor, God of thunder I implore you..."

Angel gently stroked Cordy's cheeks, burying his head in her neck and kissing her throat.

"Please don't make me turn to demon-worship," Wesley pleaded with the heavens.

Angel and Cordelia quietly snuggled, sitting together on her desk. As they sat there, quietly cooing into each other’s ears, a single figure crept past behind them. Lost in the fog of romance, neither noticed the shadowy form creep down the stairs to Angel's apartment.

Slowly, it eased its way down the steps, pausing with every footstep and listening to make sure it had not been discovered. Reaching the bottom, it glided silently across the floor, and tripped over the rug.

"Damn!" Wesley cursed, rubbing his shin. He looked nervously upwards, but heard nothing move upstairs. Moving quickly, the ex-Watcher crossed the room, bent down, and carefully opened a large box propped against one wall. "Love spells...love spells..." he muttered, rummaging through the box. Scrolls, books and exquisitely carved stone tablets were pulled out and placed neatly next to the box. A large black-bound tome slipped from Wesley's hands and thudded to the floor. He winced.

"Hey, Wes!" Angel's voice called down. "You okay?"

Wesley swallowed. "F-fine, Angel! No need to check on me! I'm fine!"

"Okay!"

All was silent once more, and Wesley sighed with relief. He didn't know much about love spells, but he did recall an incident Mr Giles had mentioned to him during one of their few discussions that wasn't marked by bickering and games of one-upmanship...something about that irritating boy, Xander, and being chased by axe-wielding females...regardless, he was convinced that it would not be wise to inform Angel or Cordelia that he suspected a supernatural cause for their new relationship. Of course, it could be genuine love, but if it was then he, Wesley Wyndham-Price, was Elvis. And thanks to some cutting remarks from Cordelia about his dancing prowess, he was painfully aware that he wasn't likely to be wearing white glitter-suits any time soon.

"Like a giraffe being electrocuted...really, Cordelia, there was no need to be so cutting...but I digress," he whispered. Wesley opened a book and prepared himself for some truly serious research.

Two hours later, Wesley had found success. And was now engaged in finding an aspirin for his raging headache. The music of love had not been conducive to supernatural research.

Really, it wasn't that hard to find love spells, but they were usually a little more subtle than the one affecting his comrades, or required consent from one of both parties. Wesley couldn't see either Angel or Cordelia using magic to enchant the heart of the other, no matter how bad their love lives.

His long index finger traced its way down the page. "Spells to bind the heart...those enchanted are often unpredictable, even violent..." Visions of a furious Angel and Cordelia, slowly ripping him limb from limb, loomed in Wesley's thoughts. "...reversing spells must be extremely specific...the caster, the exact spell used and the location of the original casting must be known, or else the sorcerer risks damaging the victim's emotions and minds permanently...often, a sign that may lead to the source of such a spell, will be something that causes strife or conflict between the enchanted pair..."

"Wesley?"

"AAAA-Angel!" Wesley yelped.

The vampire peered over his shoulder. "What's up?"

"I'm, er, doing some research on the Sanderson case. Yes. Er..."

"I thought he'd been hit by a transmutation spell? This looks like love magic to me." Angel's dark eyes bored suspiciously into Wesley.

The ex-Watcher fought the urge to run away and hide. "Uh...well, I, that is...you see - "

"It's okay, Wes, I understand," Angel said, smiling abruptly and throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"Y-you do?"

Angel nodded. "Sure. I know you don't get out much, so it must be hard to get dates...it’s not unreasonable to look for some magical backup. So…who's the lucky lady?"

"Hard to get dates?" Wesley bristled, brushing off Angel's arm. "I'll have you know, I...” Common sense re-asserted itself. "…I feel terribly guilty about resorting to spells, but I'm just terrible at speaking to women."

Angel smirked in a most unangellic way. "I know. I've seen you at parties, remember? Tongue-tied doesn't even come close…more like no tongue at all."

Wesley laughed weakly. "No tongue at all. Yes. Funny."

Angel grinned. "Me and Cordy, we're going out for dinner at Frazelli's. You want to come?"

"No, thank you," Wesley managed. "You go on. Have fun."

The vampire laughed. "You sound like a big brother. Well, seeya, Wes."

Wesley remained where he was until he heard the office door shut upstairs."Angel? Cordelia?" he called. Wesley paused. "Oh my God, I just spilt coffee all over this leather chair!" Nothing. No Angel bounding down the stairs to defend his precious household possessions. Wiping an errant bead of sweat from his brow, Wesley slumped down on Angel's sofa. No problem, he told himself, I can deal with this.

No problem? a familiar little voice in the back of his head asked. A man who can't even get down a flight of stairs without falling over himself can deal with this?

"I can handle it," he said aloud. "I have a Watcher's training, and my own experience."

Training didn't help much in Sunnydale, did it? the voice shot back.

"Stop it," he told himself. "If I think negatively, I'll fail at this."

The voice sneered. You don't need negative thoughts to fail. You can do it just fine on your own.

Wesley sighed in defeat. "I need help."

Upstairs, in a neat little drawer in his desk, Angel kept a little black book of useful phone numbers in case of emergency. The neat little drawer was wrenched open, and Wesley's hands snatched up the little black book. Frowning with concentration, he flipped through it.

"Doyle. Dead. Unless I can find a decent medium at this time of night, I don't think he can help."

"Buffy. Hates me, plus she's in Sunnydale."

"Giles. See above."

"The Watcher's Council. Would probably stake Angel on sight."

"Kate. Would probably stake Angel on sight, then arrest Cordy for being a necrophiliac."

Wesley closed the book. "Looks like I'm on my own," he told himself grimly. "Wesley Wyndham-Price, rogue demon hunter, off to save the day."

He shook his head as he left the office. It still didn't sound quite right.

The waiter smiled to himself.

Always the same, he thought, some young buck wants to impress his date with how generous he is, so he starts tipping like his money's burning a hole in his wallet. He smirked. And I go home a very happy man. "Will that be all, sir?" he said calmly, his voice betraying none of his inner glee.

"Yep," the dark-haired man said, glancing at his date. " I think we're good." The waiter nodded politely, gliding away.

"Angel," Cordelia warned teasingly,"that man already looks like he just won the lottery. If you order any more expensive meals, he'll probably try to lick your boots clean."

"They're already polished."

"Then he's going to have a very funny-looking tongue," she giggled.

Angel smiled, stroking her hand. "You want anything else, baby?"

Cordelia leaned over and brushed her lips against his. "Yes, but I don't think it's on the menu."

He grinned. "Why, you little minx..."

"All part of my charm," she said, looking down at her plate. " Now, remind me what this is again?"

"Angel's hair pasta in a cream and prawn sauce," Angel explained. "It's really good, trust me."

She raised a forkful of the fine white pasta to her mouth and swallowed it in a quick motion. "Mmmmm. Angel's hair, huh?"

Angel only smiled.

The food was better than anything Cordelia had ever tasted, literally melting in her stomach...or maybe that was her heart, every time Angel looked at her. The connection they had was so amazing; she could hardly believe they'd never noticed it before. As their waiter scooped up their plates, Cordelia glanced around the restaurant. She just wanted to look at something else, to make it all the sweeter when she looked at her Angel again. Idly, she wondered if this was how Buffy used to feel around Angel, but she dismissed the thought.

Angel and Buffy just had puppy love, she thought, well, a really old puppy in Angel's case, but still not true. Me and Angel, we're meant to be together.

Three tables away, Wesley hunkered down behind a copy of Cosmopolitan snatched from Cordelia’s desk. His grim gaze was fixed on the couple. He'd been watching them for almost ten minutes, and it was clear the spell was progressing even faster than he had expected. And their conversation was becoming more sickening with every minute.

Like Romeo and Juliet on fast-forward, he thought bitterly. And still no sign of what it was that could be causing their emotions. He bit viciously into his sandwich. There they were, Angel gazing into Cordelia's eyes like a lovesick teen, and Cordelia gazing at...at...

"Wesley?" she called, half-rising out of her chair.

Wesley crouched down behind the magazine, trying to look unremarkable.

"Hey, Wes, that you?" Angel called.

Wesley stared grimly at the text before him, shoulders hunched like an embarrassed vulture. "Sir, I believe those people are trying to call to you," his waiter said helpfully.

Ears flaming, the ex-Watcher sunk lower into his chair, clutching Cosmo vaguely before him like a glossy shield. Suddenly, it was ripped out of his hand.

"Wes! It is you!" Angel said cheerfully, tossing the magazine aside and sitting down in front of him. Cordelia hovered by his shoulder. "I thought you weren’t coming! Why didn't you come over and talk to us?"

Wesley shrugged pathetically. "Uh...engrossed in my article. Didn't hear you calling."

Angel picked up the mangled Cosmopolitan and looked at the page. "Didn't know you were having problems with menstrual cramps, Wesley."

"Yes. Ah. It's for a friend, a woman friend...that is, a friend who is a woman..." Wesley stuttered desperately.

"Oh?" Angel asked, grinning at him in a conspiratorial fashion. "The intended castee of your love spell, eh?"

"Love spell?" Cordelia asked curiously, worming her way onto Angel's lap.

"Wes has got a crush," Angel told her gleefully.

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Anyone we know?"

"No!" Wesley blurted out. "Lovely girl. Works at the post office," he invented frantically. "Met her while I was depositing a check."

Cordelia frowned. "I thought you said she works at the post office?"

"Oh.” Wesley’s throat seemed to shrink to the thickness of a pencil. "Well, she er, er, used to work at the bank, then she got fired, so now she works at the post office."

"Oh, that's a shame," Angel said sympathetically, patting him on the arm. "Why was she fired?"

Wesley said the first thing that came into his head. "She...she robbed it."

Angel frowned. "Robbed the bank?"

Wesley’s brain caught up with his mouth, but then gave the situation up for a dead loss. He soldiered on. "Uh-huh."

"You're in love with a bank robber who works at the Post Office," Cordelia said slowly.

Wesley nodded rapidly. "Y-yes. Quite a girl."

"I guess so," she said dryly. For a second, both Angel and Cordelia paused, battling with the totally ridiculous lie, then they glanced at each other and their features smoothed.

"Lovely," Angel said.

"Very nice," she added.

As the loving couple moved on a new topic, Wesley surreptitiously cleaned his sweaty palms on a napkin, deeply thankful that love spells tended to interfere with their victims’ thought processes.

"Well, thank you for a lovely evening, Angel," Cordelia said, running a hand over the vampire's cheek. He smiled and moved closer, knocking a sauce bottle over as he did so. Piquant Italian tomato sauce flowed over Cordelia's dress in a red waterfall.

"Oh God, honey, I'm so sorry," Angel apologized. "I'll mop it up..." Cordelia looked down at her dress and screamed. "Oh, no, I’m sure it's not that bad - "

Cordelia collapsed in his arms, giving another shriek of pain as the vision hit her in a whirlwind of agonizing force.

Noticing the other diners staring at them, Wesley stood up, babbling. " She's very attached to that dress...her mother gave it to her...she's always been very fragile..."

Cordelia jerked a final time in Angel's arms, and went still. Slowly her eyes flickered open. "A-Angel?"

"I'm here, baby," he whispered, bathing her temples with Wesley's glass of water.

Wesley crouched down by them. "What is it?" he hissed. "Cordelia, what did you see?"

"It hurts..." she moaned.

"Yes, I know, but what did you see? Cordelia, it might be very important!" A second later, Wesley yelped as Angel's hand closed on his wrist in a crushing grip.

"My baby is in pain," the vampire snarled, his face inches from Wesley's pain-contorted features. "She doesn't want you harassing her right now. Got it?"

Those enchanted are often unpredictable, even violent...

"Consider...it...got..." Wesley squeezed out from between pain-clenched teeth.

Angel let go. "Good." Turning to Cordelia, he whispered softly, "Are you okay? Do you want to go home?"

"On the beach, two blocks from here...something's coming out of the sea...big, nasty and scaly," she said vaguely, the vision still smouldering in her mind.

Wesley leaned closer, cradling his bruised wrist. "That sounds like some sort of demon," he whispered. "Angel, might I suggest we investigate?"

"Not now," the vampire snapped. "Cordelia's hurt."

Wesley reviewed his options. Let's see...if I try to get Angel to leave Cordelia, he'll probably crush my other wrist as well...if I try to make him understand that she'll be okay without him, he'll probably beat me unconscious...if I start talking about his sacred duty, he'll pull my head off like a bottle cap...

He cleared his throat. "Angel, you do realize that Cordelia had this vision to warn you about the demon, yes? So, the reason she's in pain is because of the vision. And whose fault are the visions?"

"The Powers," Angel hissed, his eyes narrowing with hate.

Wesley flapped his hands around frantically. "No, no, no. It's the demon. If it wasn't for the demon, she wouldn't have had the vision, and she wouldn't have got hurt. See?"

"It's the demon's fault that my baby got hurt," Angel said slowly.

Wesley beamed. "Yes! Exactly."

"Then it’s going to die," he snarled, his vampire face coming to the surface as he stood up.

Wesley looked into the furious yellow-eyed gaze of the man standing in front of him, and slowly raised a hand. "Check, please?"

Wesley jogged through the sand beside the enraged vampire, Cordelia a few steps behind. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw their tracks stretching back across the beach to the parking lot. Angel’s tracks marched on as straight as an arrow, Cordelia’s nearly as unbending. His own swerved around the beach in a demented zigzag, sand tossed left and right with every footprint.

The voice giggled. Useless little Wesley…can’t even walk straight. Clumsy little wimp.

Wesley realized that Cordelia had passed him, and hastened to catch up. "Uh, Angel?"

The vampire wheeled around. "What?" he growled.

"Maybe you could try and look, you know…human? The other pedestrians were giving us some rather strange looks..."

Angel's face shifted, yellow eyes turning brown. But the lance-like fury in them was still the same. "Satisfied?"

Wesley gulped. "Entirely." The vampire spun around and dashed away over the dunes.

Rounding the base of one of the larger dunes, Angel came face-to-face with a large reptilian figure. Fully a head taller than the vampire, the sea demon was covered in green scales and a liberal amount of slime. It snarled as he stepped towards it.

"Because of you," Angel snarled, "my girlfriend got a headache."

The sea demon cocked its head in confusion and hissed quizzically.

Then Angel's fist pounded into its face and the demon staggered back, green ichor spraying from its jaw. Angel gave it no chance to recover, wading in with his arms swinging like fleshy hammers. The demon wheezed and gasped as he sunk blow after furious blow into its belly.

Wesley and Cordelia came to a halt, frozen by the deadly spectacle. "Go on, Angel! Kick his ass!" Cordelia called to her love.

"Ra, ra!” Wesley added weakly.

Angel half-turned. "Cordeli - " The sea demon's clawed fist mashed his jaw, spinning him to the ground. Cordelia screamed as Angel staggered woozily to his feet, the demon looming over him. His face became vampiric as he raised green-stained fists. "Good shot." It drove a fist into his stomach, doubling him over.

"Better shot," he gasped, collapsing to his knees. The demon raised its talons for a killing blow.

Screaming shrilly, Cordelia flew at it, her nails scratching for its face. Contemptuously, the demon slapped her aside. With a hiss of victory, it raised a clawed hand and brought it smashing down towards Angel.

Angel caught it and held it motionless, inches from his head. "You hurt my Cordelia again..." he snarled, squeezing hard. The demon's hideous face twisted in pain as the sound of bones cracking cut across the night. Wesley touched his bruised wrist, wincing in unwilling sympathy as Angel rose to his feet, forcing the demon to its knees as he did so. Suddenly, the vampire let go of the monster's wrist. The demon's hissing sigh of relief was cut off as Angel smashed his fist into its throat, smashing scaly flesh and shattering bone. Wheezing and gurgling, the demon toppled to one side and lay still. Angel wiped blood from his jaw. "Cordelia..."

"Angel..." She threw herself into his arms, crushing her lips against his fanged mouth.

Wesley sighed.

He looked at his watch and whistled a little tune with exaggerated patience.

He sighed again.

Finally, seeing that they were unlikely to notice his existence any time soon, he bent down over the wrecked corpse of the sea demon. "I suppose four's a crowd," he told it. "Just you and me, then." Taking a scaly foot in each hand, he began dragging the monster's body towards the sea.

PART TWO

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