Title: Working For Redemption
Author: Melissa Flores
Email: mistyjox@hotmail.com
Summary: When Cordy crashes at Angel's, the vampire realizes the two have more in common than he thought.
Rating : PG
Genre: Friendship, C/A
Spoilers: Sense and Sensitivity, Season I: Angel

--

He had been in the shower, just standing there, letting the water rain down on his head, letting it wipe away all the dirt and the grime, feeling the exhaustion come away from him almost miraculously as the water cleansed him. Angel loved to take a shower. In those precious moments, he felt tranquil, he felt clean.  It was the only time he ever felt clean. So he stood there, his palms up to catch the droplets that splashed down, his face up to the water as he opened his mouth, letting the water slide in.  He listened to the splatter of the water, the drops falling in rhythm to the classical music that wafted from his living room and found himself almost smiling.

An irritating ringing knocked him out of his tranquility. Opening one eye, he looked towards to, only to hear it again. Damn. Stumbling out, his grabbed a towel, wrapping it around himself hastily as he walked out of the shower and headed to the door. The doorbell continued to ring and he rushed to swing the gate open.

A duffel bag was thrust into his arms immediately.

"That is IT!!"  Angel gulped, trying to hold on to the bag and blink through the drops of water that had slid down into his eyes. He blinked again.

"Cordelia...."

Cordelia Chase turned, her face livid. She was carrying her makeup case and a small handheld mirror. "That is it!!! Phantom Dennis has hit my last nerve!"

Still gripping the bag, Angel struggled valiantly to hold on to his dropping towel.  "Um.... Cordelia. We have these things called a phone...."

She didn't even bother to look in his direction as she continued her rant, yelling behind her as she deposited her things on his bed.  "I had a date tonight, a cute guy, a LAWYER!!!" She emerged from the bedroom, squinting her eyes at him. "And do you KNOW what he DID?!"

"The Lawyer did something?"

"Dennis grabbed him and actually shook him!" Cordelia blew the bangs out of her hair in a frustrated gesture. "And then! After he totally ruined the mood, he actually kicked him out!! He probably gave the guy a heart attack!"

Angel seemed to realize that his mouth was hanging open, because he shut it promptly.  "Cordelia." he said sternly, trying to manage at least a vestige bit of the control he usually had.  "What are you doing HERE?"

She squinted at him, and her shoulders slumped, obviously miffed he hadn't caught on yet. "I needed to get away, Angel!"

Angel's mouth opened, and then closed. His face looked pained and muddled as he realized he still was holding her bag.  "And you couldn't go to Doyle's, because..."

She rolled her eyes as she sank down on the couch.  "Oh, yeah, Angel. I'm really going to go to Doyle's. Please, the last thing I need is to be worried about owing THAT guy a favor. He'll think it's something *special*." Her hands rose to frame air quote marks, as she sighed. "So, I get the bed tonight, right?"

Angel wiped away at the water that was congregating around his eyes, and he let the bag fall to the ground.

"Cordelia." He tried again, closing his eyes in an attempt to contain his frustration.  "You can't just... come here every time you... feel like you have to leave your apartment. That's why we GOT you that apartment."

"And almost got me killed!" She snapped back, crossing her arms as she rose to face him, not the least intimidated. Walking up to him, she gazed at him evenly.  "Thank you SO much for that. And you do realize that your towel is slipping, right?"

He looked down and snatched at the towel. She merely raised an eyebrow, and smirked, as he cursed and hobbled around her, running into his room and slamming the door behind him.

Reaching into his dresser, he pulled out a pair of black boxers and pulled them on, toweling himself off quickly, all the while wondering why on earth he allowed this. He was Angelus, dammit, and when it came to Cordelia he was as henpecked as... well... a Nancy boy.  He gave her a job out of charity, she was supposed to be grateful. She was supposed to work for him and leave him the hell alone, not bug him every other second and make him say 'please' and 'thank you' and frustrate him to the point of wanting to wring her neck.

And the worst thing was, she actually made a difference at the office.  Even if she couldn't type, or file, or answer the phones, she just gave the office this.... girly appeal.  He would have never thought to make business cards, or coming up with a motto that stuck the way it did, or even the charging thing. The place needed her.

But that didn't mean she could come drive him mentally insane whenever she so chose.  He paused before turning back to the living room. He would have to be firm. Cordelia would just have to go home and work out her differences with her ghost roommate. He wasn't a hotel. He was Angel, the bad ass vampire, right? He had handled demons, and Slayers, and everything, he could handle Cordelia Chase.

Grabbing the mousse, he massaged it into his hair, followed by the hair gel, and squinted at the door, allowing himself to get good and annoyed. Taking an unneeded breath, he opened the door.

Cordelia smiled sunnily at him from his couch. "I made popcorn," she announced. Angel squinted at the scene before him. She was sitting on the couch, her feet now bare, and she had changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top.  Her hair was now messily piled on top of her head with one of those scrunchy things, tendrils framing her face. Her face was void of makeup as she curled up on the edge of the couch, a bowl of the buttery kernels resting on her lap.

She looked almost... lived in. For a moment he was completely taken aback, and the only thing he could say was, "What?" 

She rolled her eyes. "All that hairspray get to your head?" she asked pointedly.

His hand rose to his hair.  "I don't use hairspray." He said defensively, coming forward, wrapping the robe around his body.

She merely shrugged. "I said I made popcorn. Here." She thrust the bowl up to him, and he only stared at it.

"I don't eat."

"Oh, please. You drink the coffee, and that stuff  is just GROSS."

He looked at her, then down at the bowl, and sniffed once.  The smell of melted butter pervaded his nose. "I didn't know I had popcorn."

"I bought some. I figured, you never know, right?" He gave the kernels another look, and finally sighed,  taking his hand and taking a handful. She thrust a napkin into his other hand. "Sit. I brought a movie."

He fumbled with his popcorn, looking in bewilderment as she held up a white plastic video case.

"Cordelia-"

"Come on, Angel." She grabbed his hand and pulled him down, letting go and pulling the tape out, sticking it in the VCR. He sat for a minute, feeling again completely overwhelmed that he was yet AGAIN just going along with Cordelia. How the hell did she do this to him?  He was HER boss.

"Cordelia," he tried again, sighing. She patted his arm and turned to the screen, taking the remote control and fast forwarding through the previews.  He watched for a minute, and finally turned to her.

"Cordelia, you can't-"

"Shh. It's starting."  His eyes went back to the screen and his mouth dropped.

"The Matrix? You like this movie?"

Her hazel eyes were surprised when she met his.  "You don't?"

"Well, I don't usually watch TV," he admitted.  "It just never interested me. This movie just seems stupid."

Her eyes widened. "How can you say that? It's... Keanu."

He rolled his eyes, ready to continue the argument when the something on the screen caught his eye.  "Who's that?"

"Trinity," she mumbled, mouth filled with popcorn.

Angel cocked his head and watched in silence as the woman in leather proceeded to completely kick the  cops ass. "I like her," he breathed.

"Yeah, I bet you do," Cordelia muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.  "Buffy much?" She must have caught his wince because she tightened her jaw line and patted him again absently. "Sorry. Didn't mean to bring up the B-word."

"Buffy's not a B-word." He retorted, once again annoyed.

Her eyebrow was raised as she turned to see him again. This time her stare was even.  "She's not? Because gee, every time I MENTION Sunnydale and Little Miss Likes to Fight, suddenly you can't wait to have me out of the office.  Well, I'm sorry, Angel if my being sometimes homesick puts you into broody lovesick boy mode, but I'm not going to forget where I come from."

"I thought you wanted to."

"I do," she snapped, and sighed, turning to the remote control and pausing the movie before turning to him. "Sometimes. Other times...  I feel.. you make me feel guilty for talking about my friends, Angel. And that's not cool.  I know you're not exactly sensitive guy, and trust me, after out last little encounter I REALLY don't want that, but let me remember Sunnydale, okay?"

He furrowed his eyebrow, watching her in confusion.  "Are you saying I make you feel bad for wanting to miss Sunnydale?"

Her jawline tightened, but she maintained her even gaze on him.  "I'm sorry your time in Sunnydale sucked, Angel. But it wasn't my fault you fell for CryBuffy, and I kind of liked living there. Kind of."

There was silence, the two of them sitting on opposite corners of the couch. Suddenly she sighed, getting up and turning off the TV, shuffling off to the bedroom. Angel sat, his arms crossed, his eyes on nothing in particular. He hadn't expected this. He had known that Cordelia had a problem with his lack of sensitivity, but he never imagined that she would have felt alienated by that.

Had he been so involved with himself and his problem he had over looked hers? He had taken her in not only because she needed a job, she needed someone, but because he needed a reminder of Sunnydale, a familiar face that could keep him sane. He liked her stories of Sunnydale, even when they hurt, even when thoughts of Buffy made him brood, and remember, sometimes, he wanted to remember. It was what kept him sane.  Cordelia kept him sane.

Without a word he rose, walking to the bedroom. Opening the door he flicked on the light. Cordelia opened one sleepy eye.

"Do I really make you feel bad when you mention Sunnydale?"

She gave him  a blank look, and suddenly groaned, burying her head in the pillows. "Angel. Can we talk about this later?"

"No."

She sighed, her eyes still closed. "It's not like you care one way or another."

"Cordelia."

"Okay, okay," she grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. "Geez, the times you pick to open up."

He came forward, sitting on the edge of the bed and studying her intently.  "Well?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, what?"

"Talk to me."

"Talk to you."

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes, and huffed, crossing her legs. "Fine. What do you want me to say?"

"Do you like working for me?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, you're always complaining -"

She raised a hand to shut him up.  "Angel, I complain. That's my thing. Just like brooding. It's your thing." She cocked her head.  "Why? Do you like me working for you?"

He looked uncomfortable as the question was put back to him. "What?"

"Do you?"

"Of course, I do," he retorted. She crossed her arms, regarding him carefully.

"Really," she said, obviously not believing a word he said.  "It's not just doing poor pathetic Cordy a favor."

He gave her an incredulous stare.  "If that was what it was, would you have even taken the job?"

There was a long pause, and he felt the heat rise in her body as her face became increasingly red. She didn't quite answer when she mumbled something.

"What?" he asked, when even his vampire hearing couldn't  pick up the words.

"I said I did, didn't I?" She snapped, clearer and more angry.

His eyes widened and for a moment he couldn't say a word.  "You believe that? You actually believe that I would keep you here if-"

"You did."

"Cordelia, who are you?" he asked, suddenly angry.  "The Cordelia Chase I knew would never take a job because of something as trivial-"

"Well, maybe you never really knew me, Angel," she snapped. "I mean, if I remember correctly, you spent the majority of your time trying to avoid me."

He looked away. "It was different then."

She looked down at her hands, playing with her fingertips. "Don't I know it."

He looked up, swallowing. "So, what changed?"

"Everything."

He nodded, remembering the scared girl he had tried so hard to protect from that ghost lady in her apartment. He had never seen her in so much pain. For a moment, he thought he had been seeing a stranger.

"You hide behind that weird tactless defense of yours, don't you?"

Her eyes flashed as her cheeks flushed. "Yeah? So? You hide behind Brood Boy. Scared to let anyone get close -"

"Because I can hurt people," he said with exasperation.

"Yeah, well I can too."

"And who can you hurt by letting them in?"

She paused for a second and shrugged. "Me. It happened before. I don't want it to happen again."

His eyes floated down to her stomach, and nodded, understanding what she was saying immediately.

"And Doyle and me? Do you trust us?"  Her eyes were confused so he elaborated. "I mean, at the apartment, when you-"

She immediately flushed.  "Look, Angel.  I never thought that I would get to that point- I believed everything she told me.  I thought I deserved- everything that happened to me.   I guess it's kind of like you."

"Because of my mansion?"

She chuckled grimly. "No, dummy.  Because of that one time you hit rock bottom. Xander told me- about those ghosts and stuff, when I was in Aspen.  You thought you deserved all that you're going through."

"I did," he remarked, looking away. "I do."

"Okay, I'm still not getting that. ANGELUS killed Jenny.  You're Angel.  You couldn't help what happened. What you did.  I could. And I did it anyway."

His surprised face made her color, and she looked away, licking her lips before continuing softly.  "Look, Angel. You're the only one from Sunnydale that's seen me... That way. Okay? I ...  Besides, Doyle, you're my only... Friend. I just ... I'd kind of like to think that maybe you see something... That maybe you don't just tolerate me." He felt himself color. She was asking him to be nice and sensitive. He wasn't good at that. The last time he tried being nice she told him he was lame. He couldn't utter a word , for fear of screwing up and offending her more. "Hey." He looked up to see her absently fingering the lines on his comforter.  "What you told me. About me being precious. Did you really mean it?"

His jaw dropped, and he coughed.  "Well, um, Cor, I was kind of under something-"

"It's just that.." She blushed for  a minute, and looked away. "No one has really ever said that to me before."

He swallowed, and not quite allowing the fact that yes he did mean it, but he had also called some one a "painbow", he instead opted for,  "Cordelia. Yes. I appreciate you. I care about you.  You and Doyle are my only friends out here."

She gave him a strange wary look. "You didn't get whammied again, did you?"

He shook his head, a small grin emerging.

"No. I just think that for one minute. I almost understood you."

She shrugged. For a minute she paused, before she flippantly said, "You don't think I understand what you're going through, do you?"

"What?" he asked, a bit startled.

"You're whole working to free yourself of that guilt and stuff, of having to fight daily not to bite the hell out of people, and why the hell am I in here with you?"

He gave her a unnerving stare.  "How can you understand?"

"I just do." Was her answer. "You're fighting daily for something that's innate, something that you feel you can't control, and you're trying really hard to suppress it, but you feel it's a part of you, that it's always gonna be a part of you. And it scares the hell out of you, knowing you can be that evil. That you can have it in there."

His throat went dry as she related his thoughts to him exactly.  "How did you -"

"I just know that's all."

He stared at her, and suddenly his eyes widened. "You know what it's like!" he yelped suddenly, making her jump at his emotion.  "You're working for redemption, too." He said, his eyes dancing slightly.

This time it was her turn to look startled. "What?"

He nodded, swallowing.  "In yourself. You don't think you're good enough anymore."

"You're dreaming."

"No, Cordy. I'm not. I'm right, aren't I?"   The only answer he got was the aversion of her eyes and the blush of her cheeks, but for him it was confirmation enough.  He was right.

And stunned. He had more in common with the Sunnydale Cheerleader than he thought possible.

"We're not having a bonding moment, are we?" She said, her eyebrow raised.  "Cause I just realized how weird it is that you're wearing nothing but boxers. God if you were anyone else I'd-"

He found himself grinning, shaking his head.  "I'm sure Doyle wouldn't mind letting you see his."

"Oh, no. That would be a whole different situation."

"Why?"

She narrowed her eyes, choosing not to divulge. "Because he'd most likely think I'd need to get down in my knickers too, and we're not even going to go there, because it's none of your business."

He shrugged. The pair quieted, neither quite looking at each other. Angel looked up.

"Hey."

"What?"

He swallowed, feeling slightly self conscious, but forcing himself to continue.  "So, how about a deal?" He said softly.  "We go on with our little masks. Me as the brooder, you as the Ice Queen, but every once in a while, we'll take them off, with each other.  We'll help each other, with our redemption."

She cocked an eyebrow, considering the possibility. "Fine," she said after a minute, a smile playing on her lips. "But I'm telling you right now I'm getting the blunt end of the deal here.  Vampire Killer  vs. bitchy cheerleader."  She pretended to weigh the two  in her hands, and he grinned.

The next thing she knew, a pillow had hit her upside the head.  For a moment her jaw dropped in shock.  A wicked smile floated on her face and before he could quite realize what was going on, he was engaged in an all out pillow fight. Angel found himself laughing as she shrieked, using one hand to cover her face as she swung blindly at him with his biggest pillow. He grabbed another and sandwiched her with them.

Suddenly her grip was on one of his, and not budging she pried it out of his hands. With the agility only a head cheerleader could have, Cordelia ducked away and with all her might swatted him with both pillows in his face.

Taken by surprise, he fell on his back on the bed, as she stood, her victory apparent.

He was still laughing when she pronounced, "I win." Before throwing the pillows on the bed.

"I'm not arguing," he said, arms raised in surrender.

She nodded.  "Good. I didn't go to summer camp for nine years to know nothing about Pillow fights."

Tired and breathless, she fell back on the bed next to him, picking feathers out of her hair and inspecting them before flicking them off of her.

"I'm not paying for that." She remarked flippantly.  "You started it."

He nodded, conceding defeat.  They lay side by side for a minute, not saying anything, Finally he propped himself on his side to look down at her.

"So what about that date of yours?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. "You think he'll forgive phantom Dennis?"

She shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. "Doesn't really matter. He had the personality of a toad.  But he did buy me dinner, at a good restaurant. Course, I could get Doyle to do that, and I have a better time with him."

He smiled. "You do?"

"Don't let him know. He'll take it the extreme."  He chuckled, and lay still. There was silence, until she broke it. "Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm tired. Get out."

He rolled his eyes, and hiding a smile, sat up, sliding off the bed.  Turning a stern face on her, he crossed his arms.

"No eating in the bed," he ordered.

"That wasn't me," she insisted, glaring at him. He only gave her a pointed stare, before closing the door behind him.

He lay on the couch for about an hour, his eyes wide open, his mind whirling.  He had actually gotten in a pillow fight. He had never done that. He had laughed.  He had smiled more than he had in weeks.  And he had found a frightened young girl in the body of a bold young woman.

Getting up, he walked to the door off his bedroom, opening it without a sound.  Silently, he walked into the room, and sat on the chair next to his bed.

She never stirred. She was a deep sleeper.

As he watched her sleep, Angel came to a devastating conclusion.  He needed her. And he wasn't sure if this clarity came from the fact that he felt he understood her, or the overwhelming peace that filled his cold heart just by looking at her.

Who'd have ever thought? Angel had always wondered why on earth he had put up with Cordelia Chase, and here he had his answer. He needed her frivolousness, her mock masks, because, quite probably, she was the one person that understood who he was, what he wanted.  She was his friend. His only real friend, aside from Doyle.

Angel allowed one soft smile as he watched her, before getting up and shutting the door behind him.  His hands on his waist, he stared at the mess she had left on his coffee table, and picked up the remote control, studying it.

What the hell.

Picking up the bowl of forgotten popcorn, and stuffing a handful in his mouth, he pressed play.  He watched the movie in silence, never moving except to pop more kernels into his mouth.

And, as it turned out, it wasn't that bad.

FIN