Roomies

Disclaimer: The characters of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the Series Universes (Angel, Cordelia, Spike, Xander, Doyle, etc…) are the creation of Joss Whedon and are, therefore, the property of him, Mutant Enemy (Grr, Arg), and 20th Century Fox (and all other affiliated parties). No money is gained from this work as it is created purely for the enjoyment of others. Please do not sue.

AN: Constructive criticism and friendly fedback are always appreciated. Flames will be used to warm my toes.


~Part 1: Apartments From the Hell Trademark~

Cordelia patted down her wet hair as she walked out of the bathroom wearing only a plain, coarse black towel. Thankfully the towel was oversized and covered everything she didn't want Angel to see and a little bit more. Moving in with Angel had been a tough decision but she had made it. She had nowhere else to go unless she was willing to live with Doyle, which was totally out of the question as far as she was concerned.

With a sigh, the brunet dropped onto the couch, making sure that her towel was tightly secured around her body, before searching through a duffel bag that she was positive contained her blow drier. As she pushed through the bag she let her mind wander. The last time she had experienced a shower where the water had stayed warm for more then thirty seconds and the walls around her hadn't groaned seemed like a lifetime ago. The first few months that she had been in LA had been horrific. Especially since she had lived in “Apartment Buildings: Brought To You By Hell.”

She gave an internal shout for joy and a quiet squeal when she found the blow drier and immediately plugged it into the nearest outlet. Said outlet happened to be at such an odd angel that first she wrenched her back plugging the drier in and then had to hold her body at an odd angle that caused her neck to throb. She still hummed softly as the machine worked its magic on her hair, though, just glad for the fact that she didn't have to go crawling into the back of an ancient, cobwebbed closet and kneel down next to a rat nest to get her hair dried. In minutes her hair had just the right amount of shine and that slight curl that she loved and she got up rubbing her neck.

Her makeup would be another story though due to the lack of a mirror in the apartment. She wasn’t as worried as one would suspect, though. This was mostly due to the fact that she had spent the last few months in an apartment where the only mirror she had had a permanent bloodstain somehow underneath the surface of one side and a large crack through what had been left of it. Fifteen minutes of shuffling and quiet bitching and her work was done. She figured that if anybody saw her now, they wouldn’t be completely disgusted (or utterly terrified) by eyes wrapped in dark circles and taunt, hollow cheeks.

All that was left for her to do was pick out her clothes for the day. She sighed as she surveyed the three duffels placed at the end of the couch and the two suitcases stacked against the wall. All that was left of her once luscious lifestyle was down to five bags. How depressing her life had become.

A promise she had made to herself was what had stopped her from unpacking when Angel had said that she could stay as long as she needed to. She would never let anyone else try to take care of her. Cordelia was a free woman and she could take care of her own self, thank-you-very-much. The only thing she needed Angel for was a job that she could come to every day and a nicely sized pay check to go along with it. Oh, and a home for at least a week.

At the moment she was bunking with him because he wouldn’t let her go back to her apartment. In fact, the day before when she had gotten up and had headed for the door with every intention of going back to her old Hellish 'place' (as she refused to call it an apartment for the fact the it had consisted of six walls and a few slabs of plywood) Angel had beaten her there. The vampire had hidden her keys and held her Gucci three inch stilettos that she had managed to save when her parents had gone bankrupt hostage. He had threatened to destroy said shoes if she ever made any attempt to go back to that place ever again. She had immediately agreed to stay away and he had handed over the shoes.

She had found her keys this morning, though they were void of the key that would unlock the door to her old place. So she was staying with Angel for the time being. She could get comfortable with the idea but that didn’t mean she was staying for good. As soon as she found a good place that wouldn’t cost her a fortune she would be gone. Until then she would be stuck living out of her suitcases.

Pushing her dreary thoughts aside she dove into the first bag that she knew held a various assortment of suitable work clothing. The first thing she came across was a pair of stretch jeans. They weren’t something she would usually wear to work but they also weren’t something she would have to iron and stayed on without the assistance of a belt. Pleased with her selection, she wriggled into the jeans before moving on to find the perfect shirt to go with it.

She was so content on finding her treasure that she didn’t hear the person walking into the room behind her – not that she would have even if she had been listening for him. Angel couldn’t help but smile at the sight she made. Sitting on the couch, her makeup done, hair perfect, jeans on but with a huge black towel for a shirt.

His grin disappeared though, when she started to untie the knot in the towel that was keeping it from falling down without even checking to see if she was alone. He backed up and deliberately stepped on the panel in the floor that squeaked badly.

Cordelia glanced over her shoulder, screeched and grabbed the knot tightly to make sure that the towel didn't fall to reveal anything that she wasn't ready for Angel to see. “Dammit, Angel! Warn a girl before you scare her like that.”

Angel snickered slightly to himself at her remark, though his face showed nothing other than his usual guilt ridden countenance before continuing on to his previous destination – the kitchen. “Sorry Cordelia, but it’s been a long time since I’ve lived with anyone let alone anyone female... uh that is... that I wasn't uh..." Angel cleared his throat and continued without finishing his previous thought, "Even if all females were alike, you would still be one of a kind and I still wouldn’t – don’t know how to… be around you.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” the brunet asked as she carefully pulled her shirt on, being sure not to flash the dark vampire. Her cheeks were burning at the thought of having almost been seen half naked in front of her handsome boss. Not that she didn't want him to see her beautiful self, she just didn't want him to see her until she had gained a couple pounds and looked healthy again. She immediately started at her own thought, she wanted Angel to see her naked? Quickly, to cover up her mental blunder, she added, “’Cause if it was, you know… it really is having a hard time showing itself.”

Angel threw a look over him shoulder before tossing his “dinner” in the microwave. Instead of the possibility of placing himself in some kind of doghouse in answering her question, he countered with a question of his own. “It's barely dawn. Why are you up so early?”

“I’ve got a game plan,” Cordelia declared as she sat down with a cup of the coffee that she had made before jumping into the shower. “If I get to the office earlier then – well any hour I have ever witnessed before I can work on apartment searching when I have no Work work to do. I figure, that way, I get work done for you plus some done for myself.”

Angel sighed as he dumped the warm blood into a mug and sat down across from the girl. “Cordy, Doyle offered to ask around for you. He’s got some pretty good connections as far as I know. Some of them are even quite respectable. Why don’t you let him look into it for you?”

With a shake of her head the girl stood. “What do you take me for, Angel – one of your cases? I’m not hopeless. I’ll do this on my own even if it kills me. I won’t let you and Doyle take care of me no matter how much you want to or I want to let you.” By the time she was finished, Cordelia was shaking with panic, shame, and anger.

She jumped when Angel’s arms came to hold her around the shoulders. After a moment she relaxed in his embrace and let his silence calm her. She let her hand rest on Angel’s contoured stomach and drank in the smell of him. When she looked up at him she couldn’t help but wince at the turmoil that rolled through his beautiful features.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think that I see you as another hopeless, faceless, customer. You're my friend and I just want to make sure you're okay, plus I need you. Don’t you think anything other then the fact that if you weren’t here all the paperwork this kind of business takes would be in utter chaos.”

Cordelia smiled through tear-filled eyes then suddenly pulled away from him and waved her hands in her face. “No, no, no, no! I can’t cry. I spent to much damn time with the stupid handheld mirror to start crying.”

With a tug at his lips that could be interpreted as a smile and a slight shake of his head at Cordelia’s antics, Angel sat back down and finished his dinner.