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Entry tags:
archiving fic
Title: Too Close
Author: Samsom
Rating: R
Summary: It's hard living with Cordelia. Set during that imagination-rich time between Ats s1 & s2.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: I originally posted this at the Stranger Things forum 'round about Jan. of '06, before having an LJ account. So I thought I'd archive it here, on account of having an LJ account now. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starlet2367 for the beta on this, because she made it so much better than it was originally. You rock! *pumps fist in air*
~~~~~~~~
In a deserted business district off Sepulveda, a figure in black sailed through the air in an endless second of grace, before hitting the pavement with a painful grunt.
Angel rolled to a halt and paused for a moment to collect his wits before pain drove him to his feet and into a fighting stance, waiting.
The demon was overconfident, sure of the kill.
His mistake.
Another few minutes, a few more painful hits, and the demon rolled into the sewer, his head following after.
The vampire turned and managed to make it the few feet to the curb before collapsing in a heap to take stock of his wounds.
A short rest, and then he would go home.
~~~
The lights were out in Cordelia's apartment. Usually, she left a lamp on for him, when she knew he was coming back, but he'd told her he might be out until close to dawn.
Dennis swung the door open, allowing Angel to cross the threshold.
He stopped in the middle of her living room, a light floral scent immediately wrapping around him.
Cordelia's perfume.
There was a book laid spine up on the side table next to the chair she read in. Some nights, when he knew the memories of her visions got especially painful, she sat and read something light and fluffy, the light of just one lamp shining softly down onto her tense shoulders, a cup of cooling tea next to her elbow.
Angel would stand in the darkened kitchen watching her, helpless, shut out of her pain.
a basket of clean laundry was left on the coffee table, a paddle brush lying on top of the television in the corner.
She was all over the place, bits of Cordelia surrounding him.
And like now, when he could smell the faint salty scent of her arousal in the air along with the perfume she dabbed onto the curve of her neck twice a day. Twice before he'd walked into a cloud of this same fragrance, both times when she thought she was alone.
He turned slowly in the direction of her closed bedroom door.
Soft gasps, so quiet he knew she was under the covers up to her chin, hand dancing beneath the soft cotton pajamas she wore to bed, ever mindful of Dennis, but not of the vampire she'd invited into her home with absolute trust.
He eyed the door, his body gone hard and wanting between one gasp and the next.
He became deaf and blind to everything but the knowledge that slammed him like a stake to the chest, sudden and absolute -
-that Cordelia was touching herself-
-was masturbating.
He moved silently, and then the tips of his fingers were pressing the wood of her door.
Eyes closed, picturing that body flushed pink as her blood rose to the surface of her skin, back gently arched as she reached for the orgasm, and he wanted to be in there with her, hips cradled by her thighs as his hand replaced hers, soft flesh pressing up against the thrust of his fingers, swallowing her cries with his mouth.
The temperature in the hallway dipped to freezing.
Dennis was warning him.
Angel glanced over his shoulder, eyes blind with want, growling his own warning to the ghost.
The lights flickered.
A chair scraped in the kitchen.
The rhythm of her breathing changed, catching suddenly, and Angel pushed away from the door, stumbling blindly back into the living room.
He couldn't have that. Never could again, or the whole world would pay in blood.
The front door flew open.
"I wouldn't hurt her, Dennis, you know that."
The air remained cold.
He strode out of her apartment and into the night air, letting the moonless dark swallow him up.
Behind him, Dennis locked the door and threw the deadbolt.
~~~
It was just after dawn when Angel came back.
He opened the front door and walked in, dropping three newspapers onto the coffee table before going to the kitchen.
This time it was the smell of fresh coffee and halzelnut creamer that greeted him.
Cordelia was at the kitchen table, reading a magazine.
She looked up when he walked in, smiling brightly. She was dressed in her cotton pajamas and a baby blue t-top, hair pulled back and up. Her face was freshly scrubbed.
Cordelia in the daylight.
"Hey, what happened to you?" she asked, getting up and walking to the refridgerator. Opening it up, she reached in and withdrew a container of blood, taking it to the microwave for heating. "I thought you'd be back before now."
Angel took a seat near the wall, shrugging at her question. "Ran into some trouble, got delayed."
She waited while the blood heated. "And?"
"And what?"
"And what happened, doofus? Are you alright?" The time dinged and she reached in, taking the blood out and coming over to him with it.
"I'm good."
"Great, I'm glad. Drink up. We've got work to do."
He took the blood and she walked passed him, going out into the living room.
He took the top off the container and sipped the thick liquid, resisting the urge to gulp it down at first taste, resisting the urge to vamp out.
He lost.
"Angel?" Cordelia called from the other room. "What's with the newspapers?"
He scraped the plastic sides for residual blood with his finger, licking it clean through the fangs that crowded his mouth. "I thought Wes and I would look for office space again today."
There was a beat of silence and he heard Cordelia sigh. "I guess it's time, huh?"
Angel sat in the kitchen, staring at the wallpaper over her stove with yellow eyes.
"Yeah," he said tonelessly. "It's time."
~~end~~
Author: Samsom
Rating: R
Summary: It's hard living with Cordelia. Set during that imagination-rich time between Ats s1 & s2.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: I originally posted this at the Stranger Things forum 'round about Jan. of '06, before having an LJ account. So I thought I'd archive it here, on account of having an LJ account now. Thanks to
starlet2367 for the beta on this, because she made it so much better than it was originally. You rock! *pumps fist in air*~~~~~~~~
In a deserted business district off Sepulveda, a figure in black sailed through the air in an endless second of grace, before hitting the pavement with a painful grunt.
Angel rolled to a halt and paused for a moment to collect his wits before pain drove him to his feet and into a fighting stance, waiting.
The demon was overconfident, sure of the kill.
His mistake.
Another few minutes, a few more painful hits, and the demon rolled into the sewer, his head following after.
The vampire turned and managed to make it the few feet to the curb before collapsing in a heap to take stock of his wounds.
A short rest, and then he would go home.
~~~
The lights were out in Cordelia's apartment. Usually, she left a lamp on for him, when she knew he was coming back, but he'd told her he might be out until close to dawn.
Dennis swung the door open, allowing Angel to cross the threshold.
He stopped in the middle of her living room, a light floral scent immediately wrapping around him.
Cordelia's perfume.
There was a book laid spine up on the side table next to the chair she read in. Some nights, when he knew the memories of her visions got especially painful, she sat and read something light and fluffy, the light of just one lamp shining softly down onto her tense shoulders, a cup of cooling tea next to her elbow.
Angel would stand in the darkened kitchen watching her, helpless, shut out of her pain.
a basket of clean laundry was left on the coffee table, a paddle brush lying on top of the television in the corner.
She was all over the place, bits of Cordelia surrounding him.
And like now, when he could smell the faint salty scent of her arousal in the air along with the perfume she dabbed onto the curve of her neck twice a day. Twice before he'd walked into a cloud of this same fragrance, both times when she thought she was alone.
He turned slowly in the direction of her closed bedroom door.
Soft gasps, so quiet he knew she was under the covers up to her chin, hand dancing beneath the soft cotton pajamas she wore to bed, ever mindful of Dennis, but not of the vampire she'd invited into her home with absolute trust.
He eyed the door, his body gone hard and wanting between one gasp and the next.
He became deaf and blind to everything but the knowledge that slammed him like a stake to the chest, sudden and absolute -
-that Cordelia was touching herself-
-was masturbating.
He moved silently, and then the tips of his fingers were pressing the wood of her door.
Eyes closed, picturing that body flushed pink as her blood rose to the surface of her skin, back gently arched as she reached for the orgasm, and he wanted to be in there with her, hips cradled by her thighs as his hand replaced hers, soft flesh pressing up against the thrust of his fingers, swallowing her cries with his mouth.
The temperature in the hallway dipped to freezing.
Dennis was warning him.
Angel glanced over his shoulder, eyes blind with want, growling his own warning to the ghost.
The lights flickered.
A chair scraped in the kitchen.
The rhythm of her breathing changed, catching suddenly, and Angel pushed away from the door, stumbling blindly back into the living room.
He couldn't have that. Never could again, or the whole world would pay in blood.
The front door flew open.
"I wouldn't hurt her, Dennis, you know that."
The air remained cold.
He strode out of her apartment and into the night air, letting the moonless dark swallow him up.
Behind him, Dennis locked the door and threw the deadbolt.
~~~
It was just after dawn when Angel came back.
He opened the front door and walked in, dropping three newspapers onto the coffee table before going to the kitchen.
This time it was the smell of fresh coffee and halzelnut creamer that greeted him.
Cordelia was at the kitchen table, reading a magazine.
She looked up when he walked in, smiling brightly. She was dressed in her cotton pajamas and a baby blue t-top, hair pulled back and up. Her face was freshly scrubbed.
Cordelia in the daylight.
"Hey, what happened to you?" she asked, getting up and walking to the refridgerator. Opening it up, she reached in and withdrew a container of blood, taking it to the microwave for heating. "I thought you'd be back before now."
Angel took a seat near the wall, shrugging at her question. "Ran into some trouble, got delayed."
She waited while the blood heated. "And?"
"And what?"
"And what happened, doofus? Are you alright?" The time dinged and she reached in, taking the blood out and coming over to him with it.
"I'm good."
"Great, I'm glad. Drink up. We've got work to do."
He took the blood and she walked passed him, going out into the living room.
He took the top off the container and sipped the thick liquid, resisting the urge to gulp it down at first taste, resisting the urge to vamp out.
He lost.
"Angel?" Cordelia called from the other room. "What's with the newspapers?"
He scraped the plastic sides for residual blood with his finger, licking it clean through the fangs that crowded his mouth. "I thought Wes and I would look for office space again today."
There was a beat of silence and he heard Cordelia sigh. "I guess it's time, huh?"
Angel sat in the kitchen, staring at the wallpaper over her stove with yellow eyes.
"Yeah," he said tonelessly. "It's time."
~~end~~
no subject
Love this piece. Dennis and his over-protectiveness (how I wish we'd had more of him as a character). And I love the exploration of how tenuous Angel's control really is. How she trusted him absolutely when he couldn't even trust himself.
no subject
And Dennis was very underappreciated. I think he'd try and protect Cordelia in that kind of situation.
Thanks for commenting on this, again, especially because you didn't have to. *hugs*
no subject
Oh, totally. No coincidence that Kel and I wrote about him and this period in time when we did Ghost Of A Chance together. We really liked him and his devotion to Cordy.
Thanks for commenting on this, again, especially because you didn't have to.
I'd not seen this fic before, since I've been absent from ST for some time. And I try very hard to feed back when I think a fic deserves it, since I know how hard we work on stuff as writers :o) It's so nice to have another good C/A author on my flist.
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But you're welcome.
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Just beautiful. AS usual, you have that amazing gift with words. I really loved Dennis getting so protective. He really gets underused in fics, that is for sure. You created a really believable missing scene as well. Brava!
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And, I really adore your icon. *adores*
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Thanks for liking it. :D
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One day I'll write a follow up. I think several of what I've written need one. :P
no subject
What I love most about this is that you don't sugar coat it. It's natural, realistic, and while there is that carnal need inside Angel, or any man if he were to stumble upon such a situation, you never fail to convey the intimacy and deeper emotion beneath his reactions.
I love him. And I LOVE her. And why can't they just have babies, huh?
no subject
And why can't they just have babies, huh?
Can you imagine what a nervous wreck Angel would be, if he got Cordy pregnant (I'd even take mystical pregnancy)? The angst of fearing for her and the baby, the sweet nervousness if she wanted to do something by herself, like taking a shower, and the danger of perfect happiness when she gives birth?
I love both of them, my OTP, forever.
no subject
DO IT!