When Giles had spoken, Cordelia had felt as if her stomach had just dropped to her shoes. “Buffy didn’t tell you?” she asked, knowing she sounded pitiful and not caring in the least.
He seemed to have trouble finding his voice on the other end. “Buffy knew?” he sputtered. “What happened?”
Cordelia sighed and sat down hard in the office chair. “Well, you already know that Faith was here. That Angel wanted to help her if he could,” she said. A part of her was bitter at how Angel’s good nature had backfired on him. All he had wanted to do was save another soul, even if he couldn’t save his own. Why did it have to get him killed? “It all happened really fast. One moment he seems to be getting through to Faith, and then Buffy’s here all ‘kill her now,’ some Watcher goons show up with guns and stuff to take her and kill us in the process, and the LAPD is outside. Well, we were okay with the Watchers, and Buffy joined in to help us – it’s not like she could do anything else – but the police… Angel got arrested.”
“But how-?” Giles began to interrupt, then stopped. “I’m sorry. Go on.”
“There’s this lady, Kate. She’s a cop that we’d worked with once or twice,” Cordelia explained. Her voice no longer showed any emotion at all. She was just tired. “That is, until she found out the Angel’s…was a vampire. We didn’t see her after that. But when Angel was arrested…the bitch!” Only that word held emotion, and it was hatred, pure and simple. “She knew exactly what she was doing. She put Angel in a cell with a window…so that he could see the sunrise.”
“Good lord,” Giles muttered.
Cordelia barely heard him. “We tried to get him out. We pleaded, we begged, we charmed, we even tried to fight to get him out. Buffy ended up being carried out by a group of burly policemen when she wouldn’t let them take Angel. There was nothing we could do, though. And when it was all over…they wouldn’t even let us collect his ashes. They say he escaped. But…Kate knows better, and so do Wesley and I.”
There was another long moment of silence over the phone line. “And Buffy knew all of this?” he said.
Cordelia nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “I assume so. The last I saw of her was when the policemen carried her out. Several of them came back with bad bruises – she put up quite a fight. When Wesley and I got back to the office, though, all of her stuff was gone.” She paused for a moment. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you any of this.”
“No,” Giles confirmed softly. “No she didn’t. Actually, I was calling because her behavior of late has us worried. This…explains it, I suppose.” There was another long silence. “Is there anything I can do for you? To help?” Giles asked finally.
“No. Nothing,” Cordelia replied wearily. “I…I’d better be going. Office to inventory and pack up and all.”
“I’m sorry,” Giles said in closing.
“Thanks,” Cordelia replied, not at all sure whether she meant it or not, and hung up the phone. Her gaze did not move from it for a long time.
When she looked up finally, Wesley was watching her from the doorway to Angel’s office. “Who was that?” he asked softly. It seemed strange to talk too loud in the office.
“Giles,” Cordelia replied briefly. “Buffy hadn’t told anyone…”
Wesley nodded very slightly before sitting next to her. “I found these in Angel’s desk,” he said calmly, handing her several pieces of paper.
Cordelia looked at them in silence. The first one was a photograph of Buffy, one the Cordelia had seen before. Under that, however, were sketches; Buffy smiling, Buffy sad, Buffy thoughtful…every picture was of Buffy. “What did he ever see in her?” Cordelia said darkly. “I mean, she came here all ‘I’m Buffy, I must be right.’ She’s stuck up and full of herself and selfish…”
“And she loves…loved him,” Wesley replied. “He loved her. It’s that simple.”
“He deserved someone better,” Cordelia muttered.
“Did you have someone in mind?” Wesley said with a hint of amusement.
Cordelia glared at him. “She didn’t even tell her friends that he’d died. Like it meant nothing!”
“You have no idea what’s going on in her head, Cordelia,” Wesley said patiently. “It’s her life.”
“It’s Angel’s death,” Cordelia bit back. Wesley started at her tone, and she sank into her chair. “I’m sorry. What are we going to do? All his things, this place…god, our jobs.”
“We’ll think of something,” was Wesley’s gentle reply. “I’m surprised he never said anything about what he wanted done…in case. I’ve been going through his office a bit. Some of his things – weapons, books, artwork and the like – are priceless.”
“Priceless?” Cordelia said vaguely, then felt slightly guilty for thinking about money. Only slightly, though. She did, after all, have her own welfare to think of. What with her suddenly unemployed status and all.
Suddenly the front door slammed open and a young man in a hooded sweat shirt came bolting into the office. They couldn’t see his face, but he was breathing hard as if from a long run. Cordelia stood, rolling her eyes slightly, prepared to dismiss him. “Hey…”
The kid looked up at her and took off his hood, revealing strange, greenish tinted skin of a scaly texture. No matter how many demons she saw, it still surprised Cordelia, and her words froze in her throat. Plus, he looked a little familiar. Good demon, right? One Angel had helped, before…
“Oh good, you’re here,” the demon kid said, still breathing hard but recovered just enough to speak.
Wesley found his voice again before Cordelia. “If you’re looking for Angel…” he began.
The kid shook his head. “I’m…looking for you. You’re Angel’s friends, right?”
“Well, we were,” Cordelia said softly.
The boy looked at her curiously, then seemed to shake her statement off. “It’s about Angel…”
“Angel’s dead,” Cordelia said bluntly, finding her voice again at the same time as Wesley said, “What about Angel?”
The kid looked back and forth between them sharply. “He’s not dead,” he said, sounding slightly confused. “I was sent… He’s…with my people. But he’s in bad shape. It’s weird. You need to come quickly.”
Cordelia and Wesley looked at each other in confusion. The words not dead seemed to hang in the air between them. How…?
“Quickly!” the boy said again, and ran from the office.
There was nothing they could
do but follow.
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