| Title: Blood and Water Author: Ruth Hanna Chapter 16: Blood and Water The clinic had a small cafeteria on the ground floor, but at this time of night it was closed and empty. It suited Cordelia's mood perfectly. She sat at a plastic molded table in one corner of the dim restaurant, tracing abstract patterns with her fingertips in the pile of salt left over from some previous diner's over-enthusiastic and poorly aimed attempt at seasoning his food. "Cup of tea?" Cordelia looked up, blinking and swallowing. She wouldn't cry. Not in front of anyone else. Wesley set a steaming plastic cup in front of her, then sat down opposite, taking a sip from his own as he did so. "Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" She stared at him. "What?" He gave a hesitant smile. "I'm reverting to type. At times of emotional crisis, we British make tea and talk about the weather." She almost smiled back. "I thought that was a cliché." "Oh, it is. But it works. Especially if the crisis is a storm threatening the global tea crop." "Thanks for sticking up for me." "I meant it. The Brethren vampires were old. And powerful. Their numbers may have been small, but it took all our massed forces to overcome them." He sipped his drink again. "You should have been there - it was quite the occasion. For ten minutes, Gunn's gang, Wolfram and Hart, the LAPD and yours truly were all fighting on the same side." Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "Suddenly I feel all warm and glowy inside." She hesitated. "So I did the right thing?" Wesley said nothing for a long time. At last he said quietly, "In the same situation, I don't think I would have taken that course." He sounded, she thought, disappointed. It was almost unbearable. "So you don't think I did." Wesley shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "They have the prophecy scroll. Yes, we know the contents in their entirety, but... in magic, sometimes the tangible receptacles of knowledge take on a certain power of their own. And now they have control over that power again." "Angel died," said Cordelia. "He wasn't just really sick, Wesley. He died in front of me. It was like a light behind his eyes went out." "Cordelia..." Wesley was looking at her; he seemed to be regarding her differently, but she couldn't pinpoint how exactly. "It must have been..." "I'm not after the sympathy vote. The point is, we didn't win this one, but we didn't lose it either. Lauren and the other kids are recovering. No one else will get sick. Angel's going to be okay. And we saved a lot of evil blood-sucking vampires from being poisoned." She frowned to herself. "Okay, forget that last one. But the rest stands. Especially about Angel." Wesley smiled for a moment, then his expression grew serious. "I'm not sure Angel sees it like that." Exasperated, she said, "Well why not?" "Angel, perhaps due to his... unique situation, has a strong sense of moral debt. Because of what you did, he feels he owes Wolfram and Hart his continued existence. That is not a good thing. But..." He glanced down at the table top, then up again, meeting her gaze. "I'll be honest. I wouldn't have done what you did. But if the choice had been mine, I don't think my decision would necessarily have been a better one. I'm sorry I can't say anything more helpful." She rested her hand lightly over his. "It's okay. You have helped. Wesley, I don't want to have gone through all that to save a friend, just to lose him." Wesley placed his other hand over hers, covering it. "Perhaps you should tell Angel that." * * * Angel woke up with the feeling he was being watched. He pulled himself up the bed, finding it easier now that someone had removed most of the tubes and needles from his arm. The same someone had left the door to his room in the clinic open. A small girl stood against the doorframe, wearing a pink bathrobe and a pair of slippers in the shape of rabbits. She was appraising him gravely. "Are you my guardian angel?" He looked at her. "Do you need one?" "Lauren? Oh, there you are." A woman, obviously the girl's mother, appeared and scooped her daughter up into her arms. "Honey, don't annoy the nice man." "It's okay. She wasn't." Lauren looked at her mother. "Is he my angel?" "Angels have wings, sweetheart." The woman smiled apologetically. "She's been asking everybody that the last couple of days. C'mon, let's go back to Daddy, Lauren." Still smiling, she disappeared back down the hallway, carrying the girl. Alone, Angel looked around the clinic room. Although still bare and functional, several touches of familiarity had been added while he slept. A set of his clothes sat neatly folded on one of the chairs, and a vase of summer flowers had appeared on the table in the corner. There was a card on the bedside locker. The front showed a cartoon of a man in traction, with the words 'For a V.I.P.' printed above. Angel lifted the card and opened it. The second half of the message had been altered in black marker from 'Very Important Patient' to 'Vampire in Pain'. The handwriting was Cordelia's. "That was Wesley's idea." He looked over the card and saw her standing inside the door, carrying a shoulder bag. "You know that famous zany English sense of humor." She came in, pulled up a chair and sat down. "You look better today. You're less with the blotches." She raised her hands to her face and waggled the fingers over her skin for emphasis. "I feel better." "Good. I mean, that's... good." She nodded, and they sat in awkward silence while the seconds stretched. Finally, Cordelia said: "Come on, Angel. I've been waiting for you to wake up again for two days so we can have this conversation. I don't do the subtlety thing. Honesty and tact, remember? Give it to me straight." He set the card back on the bedside locker. "You shouldn't have done it." She nodded, and he got the impression she had been steeling herself for this. "I know the scroll's important, but it was the only bargaining chip I had and-" Interrupting, he said, "It's not the scroll. I stole it, they took it back. Whatever. It's me. You made the deal for me, and you shouldn't have. I'm not a person, Cordelia. I'm a demon wearing a dead man's flesh." Suddenly angry, she said, "And that means you're not worth saving?" "It means I'm not worth you risking your soul over." "No," said Cordelia simply. He looked at her, not following. "No, what?" "No, it doesn't work like that. Maybe you've been out of the loop of non-dysfunctional relationships for too long. Let me explain. When you start caring about people, they start caring back. If you take risks and make sacrifices for other people, they'll start doing the same for you. They'll help you when you don't want help, because they won't be able to stop themselves. I'm not going to say sorry, Angel. I'd do it again in a second." "And you'd still be wrong." "Yeah," said Cordelia. "Wrong for bargaining with Lindsey the devil's advocate, and selfish for doing it because I couldn't cope with losing you. But you know what? It's done. So deal with it or fire me. I've started over once, and I can do it again." There was a look of determination on her face that was half defiance, half fear. Angel realized Cordelia wasn't making an idle threat, that her pride would not allow her to back down now the words were out. Slowly, he said, "People in non-dysfunctional relationships sometimes agree to disagree. I read that somewhere." Something in her expression softened with relief. "I read that somewhere too. Cosmo, I think. So... we're okay? And I still have a job?" "We're okay." She smiled. "Good. Then I can go on my date tonight knowing I don't have to hit the Situations Vacant ads tomorrow." Angel looked at her. "Your date?" "Todd called. He said he was totally sorry he bailed on me, and he wants to make it up. He didn't even mention the whole staking incident. Isn't selective memory a wonderful thing?" She stood up and lifted her bag on to the edge of the bed. Angel watched as she began to pull an odd assortment of colored cards and swatches of cloth from it. "Now, other important stuff. I called the insurance company this morning, and it looks like they're finally going to pay up for the office. Which means we have some serious decisions to make about color schemes. I think we need something more vibrant. Nothing says 'We help the hopeless' like aqua-marine and citrus yellow." Samples tumbled on to the bedspread and Angel realized with a sinking feeling that he was a captive audience. "Citrus yellow?" "And a mirror in the front office would make it look larger. You can be careful where you stand when we have company, right?" Cordelia closed the bag and shouldered it. "I gotta run. Wesley'll call by later. Don't let him choose any of the florals." She turned to go. "Cordelia, wait." She stopped, and looked back at him, smiling and looking suddenly older than her nineteen years. Nineteen, Angel thought. Cordelia and Buffy were in many ways polar opposites, but one of the traits they did share, as well as their age, was an ability to call on deep internal reservoirs of determination and maturity when it counted, making it all too easy to forget their youth. At nineteen, Angel knew, the man he had been had lacked any concept of what it meant to take responsibility for his actions, to be an adult. "I did know," he said at last. "And I was grateful to have someone to watch out for." She looked at him. "I said those things when you were..." "I heard. It was as if you were a long way off, but I heard." Cordelia considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Don't ever scare me like that again," she said, and left. Title: Blood and Water Author: Ruth Hanna Epilogue: Family Ties "Lindsey. Have you seen the Times this morning?" Lindsey looked up from the case notes he was reading. Holland stood in the door of his office, holding up a newspaper and smiling broadly. "Not yet. Something I should know about?" "Oh, I think so." Holland crossed the office and opened the paper to the middle section. He tapped one of the articles with his finger. The headline read, City Law Firm All Hart. "'LA law firm Wolfram and Hart proved yesterday that not all legal eagles are the heartless predators of public stereotype. The firm has offered to pay for treatment for the five children from Glendale Grammar School taken ill after drinking mineral water tainted with silver nitrate. A spokesman for the firm said, 'Many of us have families of our own, and we felt strongly it was right to step in.''" Holland stopped reading, and smiled warmly. "'Families of our own.' That was a nice touch, Lindsey." "Thank you. I figured it was time we got some good publicity." Holland nodded approvingly. "Lindsey, I knew you had the potential to go places with this firm. I may have underestimated just how far." "I just happened to be there when the opportunity arose." Lindsey leaned back in his chair. "Mind if I ask a question?" "Sure." "Why did we treat Angel and discharge him? Because, as perfectly as this turned out, I can't help thinking it could have been that little bit more perfect." Holland folded over the newspaper and sat down in the chair on the far side of the desk. "You know, I love to hear that. The enthusiasm of youth. Yes, we could have taken care of the other little problem too. You've got the killer instinct, Lindsey. But you've still got a lot to learn about business." Lindsey leaned forward. "I'm listening." "It's about long term strategy," said Holland. "It's about confusing your opponents. Just when they think they know what to expect from you, throw them a curve ball. Angel is walking about out there now because we let him live. He knows it. That makes us stronger and him weaker." "He'd be weaker still if he were dust." "Strategy, Lindsey. I was at a meeting with the senior partners this morning about just this issue. And I can assure you, by the time we're finished with Angel, he'll wish we'd been merciful enough to stake him when he couldn't fight back. And so will everybody else." Lindsey guessed what Holland was talking about. "How is she?" Conspiratorially, Holland said, "She's a vicious, smart killer and she knows the true nature of the demon inside our angel. Another seven or eight weeks to regain her strength and she'll be ready." He smiled. "I have to tell you, Lindsey: I'm looking forward to this. It's going to be fun." Lindsey smiled, and relaxed. "Roll on Fall." |
| (c) Copyright, Ruth Hanna for "Blood and Water" Chapters 1-16, January 6, 2003. |