The Art of Seduction

Title: The Art of Seduction

Author: QueenC

Feedback: Who do you know that say no? Not me! Gimme, gimme, gimme! *g* fallengoddess2002@yahoo.com

Rating: NC-17, eventually

Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Fine, fine, fine. Joss owns everything. I own nothing. There, happy? *g*

Distribution: A Vampire & his Queen. Anywhere else, just let me know!

Summary: Well, this was supposed to be my first attempt at a PWP. But, before I knew it, the plot was smacking me right in the face. So, instead, I'm making it the unofficial prequal to 'Hope'. Basically, it tells how Cordelia and Angelus get together.

Spoilers: Anything and everything. This takes place in Season 2 of BtVS, but, I may very well throw in some foreshadowing of any of the other seasons, on either show. You never know!

Author's Notes: Words in *'s are emphasized. Words in 's are thoughts.

Part One
Cordelia Chase was having a very bad day. First, she had overslept, making her late for school. Then, Harmony had 'accidentally' spilled a soft drink all over her brand new two hundred-dollar Angora sweater. And, finally, just as things were beginning to look up for her, she had spoken her mind at a Scooby meeting, and now had the entire group angry with her.

"Like it's my fault that none of them have the spine to stand up to Buffy and tell her what they really think. Jeez," she muttered as she entered her house. As she placed her car keys on the small table in the foyer, she suddenly realized that no one was there to greet her.

"Hello? Maria? Antonio?" the brunette called, walking into the kitchen. However, silence was all that greeted her.

"Ok, this is not good! I'm starving! Where is everyone?" she exclaimed, surveying the area for anything suspicious. Finally, her gaze landed on a note that was lying on the counter. She walked up to it, reading it aloud.

"Ms. Cordelia, I am sorry, but my brother has taken ill and I must go stay with him until he feels better. I have prepared enough meals for you for the remainder of the week. All you need do is place them in the oven to warm. I will call you tomorrow with more information regarding my return. In addition, Antonio's mother passed away this morning, so he returned to Mexico for the funeral. Please take care, and keep him in your prayers, as well as my brother. Sincerely, Maria."

Cordelia groaned, slamming her purse on the counter. "Well, this is just great! Not only are my parents visiting Europe *without me* for two weeks, but the help has left, too! Augh! Why do these things always happen to me?" she whined, stomping to the refrigerator. Angrily, she flung the door open, peering at the contents.

"Oh, forget it. This is too much work. I'm just going to go upstairs, run a hot bath, and try to forget that this day ever happened," she muttered. Then, something on the top shelf caught her eye. Slowly, her first real smile of the day filled her face. It was a bottle of red wine. In fact, if she remembered correctly, this particular bottle was one that her father had purchased at a wine tasting in Paris a few months ago.

"Well, it's not like he's going to *miss* it," she rationalized as she picked it up, examining it. "And, if he does, I'll just say that Maria or Antonio drank it. That will teach them to leave me alone!" That being decided, the May Queen placed the bottle on the counter and went in search of a wineglass and corkscrew.

Half an hour later, Cordelia was sitting on the veranda attached to her bedroom, sipping some wine and staring up at the stars. Her foul mood had disappeared along with her fifth glass, around ten minutes earlier. Now, she was feeling relaxed, and content.

"Now, *this* is the life. Screw all of that 'saving the world' and 'helping the hopeless' crap. I'll settle for a warm night, a clear sky, and a bottle of chilled wine anytime," she sighed.

"Add some torture, sex, and death to that list, and you'd be a woman after my own heart," a voice suddenly stated.

Cordelia sat up straight, looking around. "Who's there?" she asked softly, placing her wineglass on the table.

She really hoped that whoever the voice belonged to was human. However, although she might be tipsy, the brunette was still sober enough to know that the chances of that were slim to none. She glanced towards her open bedroom door, trying to decide if she could get there before whoever it was made their appearance.

"You'd never make it, Delia. In fact, I wouldn't even try. You would probably just end up hurting yourself." The voice sounded closer now, right behind her.

Cordelia twisted in her seat, straining in the dark to try to make out a figure. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but, I happen to be *very* good friends with the Slayer. So, why don't you just slink on back to wherever you came from, and I'll make sure she doesn't stake you, ok?" she snapped, knowing that it was a long shot. But, who knew? Maybe she would get lucky.

However, the minute she saw who her late night visitor was, she knew that her luck had just run out.

"Really? Well, as good as that sounds, I have a better idea. Why don't you scream, and maybe your *good friend* Buffy will hear you all the way from the graveyard where she's patrolling. Then, she can come running over here just in time to find your dead body. How does that sound?"

The young woman swallowed, fear seizing her. "Angelus."

The leather-clad vampire smirked at her, his eyes roaming her body as he advanced towards her. "Very good. You seem to be the only one of that little band of do-gooders who can tell the difference between me and Soul boy," he stated.

Cordelia stared at him, forcing anger to replace the terror she was feeling. "Yeah, well, the outfit kind of gives it away. That, and the fact that you're threatening to kill me," she said dryly.

Angelus laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement. For an instant, he looked perfectly harmless. However, Cordelia knew better than to fall into the ignorant safety that his entire persona seemed to offer.

"What do you want, Angelus? In case you couldn't tell, I was *trying* to relax." She bit back the final stinging remark that she had intended on saying, knowing that he probably wouldn't find it very amusing
He
He paused, as if considering her question. Then, moving faster than she could follow, he stalked to her, dragging her to her feet. To his amazement, she didn't struggle. In fact, she didn't even flinch when he moved his mouth towards her neck, his brown eyes taking on a decidedly golden hue.

Angelus could hear her blood rushing beneath her skin and forced himself to stop. Killing her now would be too easy. No, he decided, he wanted to play first. So, instead of sinking his fangs into her jugular, as he was certain she expected him to do, he instead placed his mouth next to her ear and whispered, "You."

The cheerleader's eyes widened. Surely, she'd misunderstood what he had said. She felt him release his hold on her, and she took a step back, the chair digging into her calves.

"What?" she asked, trying to sound indignant, and failing miserably. Instead, her voice came out in a breathless tone.

He stared at her, clearly enjoying her shocked expression. "You asked what I wanted. And, while I may want several things, right now *you* are at the top of my list," he answered, his smirk making way for what he hoped looked like a genuine smile.

Cordelia shook her head, unwilling to fall for his mind games. "Nice try, Angelus. But, I'm not an idiot," she stated. "You want me about as much as you want a stake in the heart."

Angelus frowned, not liking the way this was turning out. She was supposed to be throwing herself at him by now, not questioning the validity of his statement. He cleared his head of those thoughts, refusing to acknowledge the jealousy he felt.

"Why wouldn't I want you, Cordelia?" he asked, deciding to change tactics. Showering a woman with compliments always lowered their defenses. "You're beautiful, smart, and extremely sexy."

The young woman snorted, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please. This isn't the 18th century, and I am not some noble woman you can woo into your good graces with sweet words and presents. I know I'm beautiful. I don't need you trying to assure me of that," she snapped, glaring at him.

"Then, what's the problem? Why won't you believe that I want you?" he asked, growing frustrated. He was half tempted just to kill her and forget the games. However, that would only hurt his plans for the Slayer, not help them. Therefore, rather than snap her neck and be done with it, he bided his time, waiting for her answer.

He didn't have to wait long.

Almost instantly, Cordelia seemed to lose some of her poise. She lowered her eyes, sighed deeply, then said, "Because I'm not Buffy." Raising her gaze once more, she continued, "I'm somesome bottled blonde Slayer who can't keep her pants on and wouldn't know class if it fell out of the sky and hit her on her head. *I* don't sleep with the undead and try to pretend it didn't happen later. See, I'm Cordelia Chase. I have style, class, dignity, and a *really* big bank account. So, either kill me or leave, because I'm *not* going to fall for your pathetic tricks."

Angelus stood there, letting her words sink in. In all of his time on Earth, he had never before met someone quite like the brunette that was standing before him, her head held high as she waited for her fate. He simply had to posses her, mind, body, heart, and soul. With a smirk, he made a decision. He was going to seduce Cordelia Chase.

******

Xander Harris sighed, staring at his telephone in anticipation. He had arrived home a little over an hour ago from the Scooby meeting; his mind still troubled over the events surrounding Cordelia that had happened earlier that evening.

He knew that they had all been hard on her. Looking back, he decided that harsh was probably a better word. *Really* harsh. She had made a typical 'Cordelia' comment and they had all jumped on her. At the time, it had seemed like a typical day for everyone involved. However, Xander now realized that they had taken out their anger, frustration, and fear about the whole Angelus situation on her. And, not even the self proclaimed "Queen C" deserved that level of cruelty.

Xander stood, pacing back and forth, trying to work off some of the guilt that he was feeling. He had hoped that she would have called him by now, even if it were to merely tell him that she never wanted to see him again. However, the more time that passed, the more he came to realize that wasn't going to happen.

"Well, why should she call me?" he wondered aloud, flopping back down on his bed. "She isn't the one who should apologize. I am."

Finally, he'd had enough. Before he could change his mind, he picked up the phone, dialing his girlfriend's number. Finally, six rings later, and just when he was about to hang up, he heard someone pickup on the other line.

"Hello? Chase residence," a female voice said.

Xander's face was a mask of confusion. "Cordy? Is that you?" he asked. She never answered the phone.

She paused a second, then stated, "Yes, Xander. It's me. What do you want?"

The young man paused, frowning. Something seemed off about her. He suddenly had the sensation that something was very wrong.

"I was just calling to see how you were doing, you know, not hearing from someone for a few hours in Sunnydale is never of the good." Laughing nervously, he questioned, "What happened to the maid? She go on strike?"

He heard Cordelia sigh, could practically see her rolling her eyes. Then, she replied, "Yeahe qhe quit. What do you want, Xander?"

He frowned even more, now convinced that something was wrong. "What's the matter, Cordy? You aren't being your usual verbally abusive self."

When she didn't even bother to respond, he decided to just get to the real reason for the call before he put his foot even farther into his mouth. "Well, as fun as this conversation isn't, I didn't really call to chat. I just wanted to say that I was sorry about earlier. I didn't really mean what I said." He paused, then continued, a goofy smile filling his face. "So, do you forgive me?"

After a second, he heard a muffled voice on her end of the line. "Uh, Cordy, could you maybe pause whatever fashion show you're watching and talk about this?" he pressed, growing frustrated.

Finally, he heard her quiet response. "Look, Xander, I don't want to talk about this right now. I'm tired and have had a really bad day. So, why don't you just leave me alone." With that, she hung up.

The young man frowned, looking at the receiver in his hand. "That was strange," he muttered, placing the telephone back on its cradle. "She didn't snap at me, didn't accuse me of taking Buffy's side over hers. She just hung up." He shook his head, wondering what it was that was rubbing him the wrong way about the whole ordeal. Finally shaking his head, he decided that he wasn't going to worry too much about it. If Cordelia wanted to hold a grudge against him even after he'd apologized, that was her problem.

Glancing at the phone again, Xander considered calling Willow to discuss his concerns. However, he quickly changed his mind when he recalled how hurt she had been over his relationship with their childhood enemy. Granted, she had forgiven him for the deceit. Nevertheless, she was far from over the pain. Unsure what to do, he merely laid back on his bed, his eyes closing. When had his life gotten so complicated?

Meanwhile, across town, Cordelia was busy asking herself the same question. However, rather than hers being rhetorical, as her boyfriend's was, she knew the answer instantly. The second Angelus had showed up with his leather pants, angelic face, and devilish smirk, her life had become a virtual television drama. Add the recent phone call from Xander to the mix and she might as well be on a soap opera.

Sighing, she threw a wary glance in Angelus' direction, who was glaring at her from his perch on the railing of her balcony. Apparently, he was still upset about her conversation with Xander moments before.

With a 'humph' the young woman rolled her eyes. Leaning against the railing farthest away from him, she muttered under her breath, "Let's act like a spoiled two-year-old."

As soon as the words had left her mouth she realized what she had said, and, more importantly, to whom. Her hazel eyes widened in panic and fear as he growled, quickly closing the distance between them to grab her by the upper arms. He squeezed painfully, his face rippling between his human features and his demonic form.

"Don't forget who you are speaking to, little girl. I've killed demons for less," he snarled.

Angry, Cordelia attempted to break free, refusing to back down to him. "Then, why don't you? God, you keep talking about it, but you haven't done anything since you've been here besides annoy me! You have no right to be angry that Xander called me! I *am* his girlfriend, you know. And, while we're on the subject, why do *you* even care? I'm just some pawn for you to use to hurt Buffy!" she screamed, still struggling against him.
Shocked, Angelus released her, watching as she stumbled back, off balance. Unable to stop her momentum, she fell backwards, nearly going over the railing. Without thinking, he reached out and caught her mere seconds before she fell to what would have certainly been her death.

Gently setting her back on her feet, they locked eyes for a second and both of them froze. Cordelia felt her breath catch in her throat, her eyes unable to look away from him. Although she knew that he had no soul, she could have sworn that she had seen something in his eyes for a brief second. However, before she could be certain, it was gone.

Disgusted with himself for the human emotions he'd just experienced, he snarled, turning from her.

For the first time in her life, Cordelia didn't know what to say. Angelus had just saved her life. Finally, she managed to whisper the only thing that she could think. "Why?"

The vampire ignored her; instead concentrating on the anger and hatred that was constantly in him. Once he was feeling more like himself and less like his pathetic counterpart, he faced her again, a smug smile on his face. "Like I said before, my dear. I want you. And, what I want, I get. Nothing as absurd as falling four stories is going to get in my way." Locking eyes with her, his voice dropped to a deadly whisper as he added, "Now, once I've finished with you--"

He never got to finish. He was interrupted by a voice that rang out through the darkness.

"Cordy? You there?"

Growling, Angelus looked at the cheerleader, daring her to respond. However, replying was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

Groaning softly, she slumped into the near by lawn chair, putting her head in her hands. "I don't believe it," she said. "I don't fucking believe it."

"Is that Harris?" the vampire growled, already knowing the answer. He could recognize that idiot's voice from a mile away.

Sighing, Cordelia nodded, finally raising her head to look at him.

"I told you to get rid of him, not invite him over!" Angelus hissed, moving away from the balcony so the uninvited guest couldn't see him. However, one quick glance told him that he needn't worry. Xander was still standing at the front gate to the Chase home, apparently trying to figure out the easiest way to get over the ten-foot brick wall.

The woman glared at him, standing up. "Well, if you hadn't been so insistent that I get off the phone, I would have done just that. I told you that he was going to get suspicious if I didn't talk to him!" she snapped, far too tired to care who she was talking to. Within the past few hours, she had experienced more emotions than she had felt in her entire life. All she wanted at this point was to climb into her bed and go to sleep.

Angelus chose to ignore her barb, instead choosing to make the best out of the situation that he found himself in. Grabbing her by the arm, he stared at her, his face unreadable.

"Invite me in, Delia," he ordered.

Cordelia looked at him, her eyes widening as she realized what he was demanding. Suddenly, she laughed. "Excuse me? My boyfriend is standing outside, attempting a James Bond interpretation, and you want me to invite you into my home? How, exactly, does that solve anything?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes, his grip tightening. He smiled when she winced in pain. "It doesn't, for you," he replied. "You still have to find a way to get rid of the moron. But, if you invite me in, it may avert my attention from the temptation of killing your bed Xed Xander on the spot."

She gasped, realizing the truth in his statement. Even souled, the vampire before her hadn't exactly liked Xander. Un-souled, she assumed that dislike had easily turned to full-fledged hatred. Still, she was unwilling to give in so easily to his manipulations.

Summoning up what courage she still had, she quickly shot back, "No, instead it'll give you free reign over me and my family. Besides, inviting you in doesn't guarantee that you won't hurt him."

Angelus smiled evilly, causing a chill to run down her spine. "Well, little one, I guess you'll just have to trust me," he said silkily. Then, he narrowed his eyes, squeezing her arm tight enough to bruise. "Now, invite me in."

Cordelia whimpered, finally relenting. She knew if she refused that he wouldn't hesitate to kill both her and Xander within seconds. At least this way, she could buy them some more time.

"Come in, Angelus," she whispered, glancing back at the distant form of her boyfriend, who was currently trying to climb the gate. As soon as the words left her mouth, Angelus dragged her inside her bedroom, closing the balcony doors behind them.

Once inside, he released her, taking in his surroundings. To say that her room didn't surprise him would have been a lie.

While Buffy's room was filled with stuffed animals and other keepsakes from her childhood, Cordelia's bedroom looked like it belonged to someone in their late twenties, certainly not to a high school junior.

Her shelves were littered with various knick-knacks; most of them appearing to be antiques. She had a small collage of pictures on her vanity, and a bookcase that was covered with various trophies and awards, with only a limited number of actual books. Honestly, he had expected posters and pom-poms. However, her walls were mostly bare, save a few *very* expensive paintings.

There were three separate doors, which Angelus assumed were her closet, bathroom, and, of course, the door leading to the rest of the house. Finally, he turned his gaze back on her, noting with satisfaction the way that she was perched on the edge of her bedokinoking ready to flee at any given moment.

"Well, now that's taken care of. The next question is, what to do about Xander," he stated, watching her face to gauge her reaction. He could see that his presence was wearing on her, and he was curious to see just how far he could bend her before she broke.

Cordelia sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. She felt tears prick the back of her eyes and she struggled to force them away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"There's an intercom downstairs. I could call him from that, tell him that I’m sleeping," she offered quietly.

He considered that idea, trying to determine if she was attempting to trick him. However, she actually seemed to be offering a legitimate option. Finally, he nodded.

"Very well. That will work." He waited until she had stood and was walking past him towards the door before he grabbed her arm, quietly adding, "You had better make *damn* sure that he actually listens this time, Delia. Because, once he's gone, the fun is going to start. And, if he decides to come back, for whatever reason, I will not be happy. Understand?"

Cordelia nodded, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of her stomach at his words. However, she also felt something else, something that she really didn't want to feel. Excitement.

******