False Claims

Title: Flase Claims
Author: Skauble
Archived: Anyone can have it that wants it.
Summary: This is based on a challenge by Impress which is included below. It’s set in S2 of BtVS, and it spins out of canon from there. Although I do use things that happened during the show, I do so to fit my purposes with little or no respect to canon. It’s my world gosh-darnit and I’ll make it how I like it. :)
Rating: NC-17 for violence and sexual situations
Pairings: C/Aus
Feedback: Always appreciated, never discouraged
Author Notes:
#1 – Even though I post this story other places I've really enjoyed reading the fics here so I thought I'd add one such as it is.
#2 - I get help with demon names from this site - [url=http://www.seventhsanctum.com/]Seventh Sanctum[/url]
#3 - This was a great challenge by Impress, so if the story sucks it’s all in the execution and not in the conception.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made. Besides, if they were mine you’d be watching this instead of reading it.


Challenge by Impress:

Ok, I want to see a fic where Angelus is forced to claim Cordy.

Musts:

*Angelus can not have had a previous desire to claim Cordy.

*Show at least two consequences of the claiming. (for ex: Possessive!Angelus, bonding, craving for blood and/or sex...whatever you can come up with.)

*Feelings developing between the two.

*Smut


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

False Claims


Part One – The Rules of Business

Prologue


She was running again. Geez, what was it with Sunnydale and the running, Cordelia wondered as she tried to force her legs to even greater speeds. But the truth was that when you live on a Hellmouth you ran or you died; and tonight it looked like she might be doing both. Dammit! As the tombstones flew by in a blur she couldn’t help but wonder how she’d gotten into this situation. Oh, now she remembered. Like everything crappy in recent memory it started with Buffy.

~~~~~Earlier That Evening ~~~~~


The heavy wooden doors swung violently open slapping the walls behind them, the loud noise incongruous with the library setting. Of course, considering the fact that said library was currently demon fighting HQ, leeway could be given to the unexpected.

Perhaps more startling than the abrupt sound was the petite blonde who stalked in. The epitome of suppressed violence, she carried with her a frenetic energy that warned even those not of a supernatural ilk to be wary.

That warning extended even to those who counted themselves as part of the slayer’s mission. Although in no way psychic, the watcher and his three students knew that something had apparently happened on patrol and all were present and accounted for to offer whatever help they could. Well, most were present and accounted for. Noticeably absent was the young gypsy teacher, Miss Calendar, who was still persona non grata for withholding what turned out to be some rather crucial information regarding Angel’s cruse, earning herself a seemingly endless spot in Buffy’s bad graces.

“Buffy, I’m glad you’re here. We were just-”

“Angelus.” Buffy’s implacable tone sliced through she was sure was about to become another well meaning yet extremely boring research summation from Giles, and concisely conveyed the fact that tonight’s priorities had changed.

“We were just Angelus?” Xander questioned from his perennial research position. “I don’t think so Buffster. I’m pretty sure I’d remember being Mr. Tall, Dark, and Homicidal.”

As far as jokes went that particular one, like most of Xander’s dropped with the all the delicacy of a bowling ball on a carton of eggs. Although rarely used it except in times of extreme trouble, Buffy’s slayer voice was a sign that serious was the new order of business and levity was to be left for later. Unfortunately no one ever thought to send poor Xander that memo.

Shooting the dark haired boy a withering look Giles returned his attention to his slayer. “What about Angelus? I understood that there had been no sighting of him for more than a week. Has that changed?”

“No. He’s still making with the vanishing act, and I think I know why. I stopped by Willy’s on my way over here. I...” Buffy hesitated, thinking how best to phrase what had taken place at the demon bar earlier. “...encouraged him to do his civic duty and explain to me the rumors about the new demons in town who, well to be honest, we desperately don’t want to research tonight.”

Ignoring Giles’ disapproving sigh at what she knew he saw as a shirking of her sacred duties, Buffy plunged ahead. There was no point not to, with what she’d learned today there’d be no Bronzing it for the Scoobies tonight. God she wanted a day to just be normal. With everything that had happened recently she knew that wasn’t too much to ask, but duty called and apparently she forgot to turn on the machine. Don’t people ever get tired of trying to end the world, she wondered wearily? ‘Cause, hello! Where are they going to live? Apparently villainous plots and common sense don’t mix.

With effort, Buffy pulled her mind back to Slayer endeavors. One would think that straightening to her less than impressive height and adjusting her powder blue cardigan with little pearl buttons wouldn’t seem intimidating, and yet gone was the teenage girl and in her place stood the protector of the Hellmouth.

“According to Willy, there’s a new group of demons with powerful ties in the community. Astoria or something or other.”

“A’toreal” Giles corrected, a force of habit and in no way motivated by any erroneous belief that the teenagers before him might actually attempt to learn something.

“Uh, yeah, them. Well Willy said they’re here to do a little hell raising, which in our neck of the woods usually means a literal Hell raising.”

“So what’s the problem? We see, we slay, and by we I mean you, and then we party all night long, and by we I mean us. Don’t worry, Buffy, I got your back.”

As Xander quickly outlined the plan that would get them soonest to the Bronze, Cordelia looked Heavenward as if somehow God might appear and explain why her boyfriend was such a dumbass.

She knew there were reasons she dated Xander but at moments like these she couldn’t recall one of them for the life of her. With a twist of her rust, silk covered shoulders and a flip of her glossy, dark hair she turned to the boy with the dopey smile and acerbically pointed out the massive flaw in his plan – which, in this case happened to be his entire plan.

“Look you goof. I hate to rain on the plan that’s designed to get us all killed, but 1) If the demons were all that easy to kill then why wouldn’t Buffy be out there killing them instead of her wasting our “non-Chosen” time. 2) Obviously this has something to do with Angelus, ‘cause I’m pretty sure that she wasn’t just shouting out psycho-vamps name just so we could all remember that she boffed the soul out of her boyfriend. 3) If there was an easy way for her to end up at the Bronze I’m sure she would be taking it ’cause I’m not really seeing the dedication to duty. And 4) I’m sure that any plan that includes you watching her back she’d be desperate to find a way to revise.”

As Xander faced his clearly irate girlfriend, he did the only thing that a man in his position could do – he cowered away and tried to collapse into himself. He knew that there were reasons that he dated Cordelia but at moments like these he couldn’t recall one of them for the life of him. As she heaved a sigh of what he could only assume was disgust in his direction his attention was redirected towards her breasts, firm and perfectly formed, straining against the eye catching material of her blouse, and suddenly he recalled one, well two, reasons he put up with Cordelia’s abusive honesty.

As she watched her boyfriend’s eyes shift as if magnetically drawn to her chest she took another deep breath and let it out. She knew that she’d been kind of hard on him and really, letting him oogle her was the least she could do. Well, until they could make it to a broom closet that was.

Not that she felt bad for the things she said. They were true, and she didn’t have the time to invest in dishonesty, even if was cloaked in the need to make everyone feel better. Still, even she sometimes wondered if discretion might not be, well maybe not the better part of valor, but certainly some, minuscule part of it. It wasn’t that she couldn’t keep her thoughts to herself, it was more like, with this particular group of people, she didn’t even want to try. I mean, sure, she and Xander had always had an antagonistic relationship, but it wasn’t even that. It was...Buffy.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Buffy. Well, no, she actually didn’t really care for Buffy. But it wasn’t like the normal way she didn’t like people – because of the clothes they wore or the music they listened to. You know, things that didn’t really mater. No, with Buffy it was an actual reason.

Cordelia understood that in the game of life Buffy got a crappy hand. After watching Buffy at her slayer duties over the past few months she could honestly say that she wouldn’t wish that kind of responsibility on anyone. Buffy was right when she said her life wasn’t ever normal. She was right when she complained that having to fight vampires and demons and God knows what else that skulked in the shadows in this rotten town was gross, disgusting, thankless work. Buffy was even right when she went on, endlessly at times, about the slayers plight – lack of choices and itty bitty life span. If that was the train Buffy was conducting Cordelia thought, “All aboard.”

Honestly, she sympathized with every point the young blonde made. But the part that really chapped Cordelia’s designer clad hide was that Buffy’s life may be one big overdose on the supernatural, but the only difference between her Chosenness and the rest of them was the Buffy was actually equipped to handle it. She was super strong and super fast and super heal-y.

Buffy wasn’t going to die young because there was some kind of slayer virus that would strike her down, she would most likely die young because she was always in a million dangerous situations, and – Hello! Who was always right there behind her? The "Scoobies". (Actually Cordelia thought she might die simply from the shame of being constantly compared to a cowardly cartoon dog who could be easily bribed with snacks. Although she could clearly see how Xander had earned the nickname.)

Willow and Xander and, more and more often recently, herself, were always there to help Buffy with the staking and the magick and the rituals and the decoying. Not because it was their sacred destiny, not because they had some Watcher riding their ass (and wasn’t that a disturbing mental image), no, they did it because it was right, and no matter what their problems were they seemed to not be able to live in Sunnydale and not help, and Cordelia should know ‘cause she had certainly tried.

Sure, they could walk away, but so could Buffy. She, like the rest of them choose not to. And while Cordelia was grateful for that fact ‘cause Lord knows she didn’t want to hang out on Hell central without a slayer, Buffy never seemed to acknowledge that if her life was a sinking ship, well she had a lot of company in that boat and she was wearing the only life jacket.

Even the endless whining about Angel/Angelus rubbed her the wrong way. I mean, let’s face it, Angelus was going to kill all of Buffy’s friends before he ever got around to his obsession, so they were all in danger. Yeah sure, tragic love story, star-crossed lovers, blah, blah, blah - the bottom line is that they were all going to die terribly, but at least Buffy got herself some salty goodness while all she’d gotten was Xander’s wandering hands while a mop dug into her back.

In all of the superficiality that was Cordelia’s life she knew to the bottom of her soul that it was only her honesty that kept her sane and that honesty would mean nothing if she never applied it to herself, so she did, ruthlessly and often. She knew, beyond doubt, that she was very egocentric, sometimes bordering, hell, crossing the border, into obscenely selfish. Life had taught her early and hard to look after herself because no one, no one else ever did. But whatever her reasons for her tunnel vision, at least she could own it. Whether she was admitting it to herself or someone was shoving it in her face (which they often did), she took the responsibility for her own behavior.

But Buffy, who was, admittedly much like herself, so often absorbed in her own angst that she missed what was going on with everyone around her (Can we say raising of the master’s bones), was practically idolized. She was placed on a pedestal so high that she was nearly untouchable.

And in a moment of honesty so deep it almost hurt, Cordelia had to admit that maybe that’s what bugged her most of all; not that Buffy was like that, but that Buffy was like that and came off looking so much better than Cordelia did for the same kind of behavior, to people who were, for some horrible, unknown reason starting to mean something to her.

Oh crap. Once again, intense self-examination had screwed Cordelia over because she had just missed everything that Buffy had said.

“Excuse me, Buffy, but could you go over that once more for those of us who couldn’t hear over your extremely loud skirt?” Okay...that might have something to do with them liking Buffy more then her, too. Oh well.

Shooting Cordelia a look that was clearly intended to hasten the statuesque brunette’s early demise, Buffy snapped back, “I’m sorry if were disrupting you fashion moment with our unimportant end-of-the-world talk, but if you could extend you attention span to more than 30 seconds we could actually use your help.”

Caramel eyes clashed with blue steel and surprisingly it was Cordelia who acquiesced first. If there was one thing she understood inside and out it was pride. She knew how hard it was for Buffy to ask for her help, and she knew that she didn’t make it easy for the slayer. Whether that was because of her personal issues with Buffy or because of the way that they just kept assuming that she wouldn’t help even though she was always helping. Either way, seeing the stress lines etching themselves more and more often into the blonde’s face of late, Cordelia decided that being nice just this once wouldn’t kill her. After all, the way things were going with her and Xander she was going to be hanging around with Buffy for a long time to come, and she certainly didn’t want to be starring at unsightly wrinkles the entire time.

“I’m listening.”

And Buffy, shocked to hear no sarcasm in Cordelia’s reply, blinked in surprise and, deciding not to tempt fate began outlining her plan once again.

“Our newest group of demony tourists to our little paradise are here for some kind of necklace. Apparently Tiffany’s doesn’t make jewelry evil enough so they’ve come to evil central here to accessorize. Here’s the bad part. Okay, on a side note how sucky are our lives when heinous, fashion conscious demons *aren’t* the bad part.”

“Angelus is supposedly getting the necklace for them. I’m not sure what he wants from them. Willy wasn’t very forthcoming and I believed that he honestly didn’t know. After all, we all know that Angelus doesn’t exactly work and play well with others, so who knows what he’s after. However, it’s a very safe bet that whatever it is we’re better off if he doesn’t get it; and it seems that the first step in shutting down his grand plan is getting our hands on this necklace.”

“The good news is that we know where the necklace is now.”

“Let me get this straight, the *good* news is that we know where we can go to fight Angelus for a necklace that a bunch of demons would be more than happy kill us for.”

“Yes, Xander, do shut up. Buffy, continue.” The watcher’s matter of fact redirection of the conversation was, in its way, almost as tension reducing as Xander’s attempts at humor.

“Apparently the necklace is in the Van Warren crypt in the old Sunnydale Memorial Cemetery. We’ve got a little daylight left, so vamps aren’t our main problem. But Willy did tell me that there were other demons in the area that seem to be keeping an eye on things for Angelus."

“Giles, Xander and I will create a diversion. Willow, you and Cordelia will go in and get the necklace. It’s supposed to be on the body of the Van Warren family patriarch, but who knows which corpse that will be, so grab every necklace you see.”

In apparent agreement with Cordelia’s echoing ewwww, Willow timidly offered, “Maybe we could distract and you could grave rob?”

Tossing her best friend a sympathetic smile the slayer continued, “Once you’ve got it you need to get to your car, Cordelia and drive to your house. Angel never had an invite and with whatever else is there focused on us you two should be safe as houses.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And thus the crappiness ensued.

Chapter One


It had actually been a fairly simple plan. Grope the dead guys, steal their jewelry and drive to safety. Okay, make that a simply disgusting plan. Still, what could go wrong?

Well, for starters, demons could have swarmed all over the decoy detail, the fighting blocking the path from the crypt to Cordelia’s car leaving her and Willow stranded in the house of the dead. Then, the sun could have set just as they were able to make a run for it. And of course, by the time they got within sight of the car Angelus could have been leaning against it. All of that could have happened.

And it did.

Which is why Cordelia was now running. Since she and Willow had broke and run in different directions she figured she had a head start. The Scoobies had always believed that she was ineffectual, even when Angel had still been around. Actually, even more when Angel had been there. So it only stood to reason that Angelus would believe that it would be Willow who would find and transport the necklace.

But it wasn’t going to take Angelus long to learn that he, like most people had misjudged her. Cordelia fervently hoped that he didn’t learn that lesson by killing the quiet redhead.

As she whizzed past a fairly new grave she came to an abrupt halt. Cordelia knew that no matter what anyone else thought the one thing you couldn’t deny was that she was smart. She was a Chase, after all. Although she had a unique kind of logic all her own, when it came down to reality she could be as clear and analytical in discerning how to come out on top of a situation as the most seasoned of businessmen. That’s why, even as she was being chased through a graveyard by a demon who would have no qualms about killing her, she stopped.


Chase Business Rule #1 – A good businessman never enters a situation without leverage. Good business deals could only be made when both parties had something the other wanted.


Knowing this to be true, Cordelia set about creating herself some leverage. And with that thought in mind she carefully scanned the landscape for anyone, human or other that might be watching, and made her way over to the grave that had caught her attention. What had really drawn her eye to the plot was the headstone.

Made of granite, the headstone was nothing out of the ordinary, especially by Sunnydale standards. Simple, yet elegant, it bore the name Emily Winston and the dates of both her birth and death. Attached to the marker, below the writing was a brass vase proudly displaying a clutch of white carnations that were far past their prime.

This vase was what now drew Cordelia. Determined to make the most of the only leverage at her disposal, she quietly slipped the necklace into the vase where it was quickly hidden by the dying blooms.

The necklace seen to, she took of running once again. As she finally reached the edge of the cemetery she paused briefly to decide which way to go. Although there were houses in each direction this was a much older part of Sunnydale so they weren’t set close together, cutting down on her opportunities for help.

With a sixth sense that comes from being the prey of a much stronger animal, Cordelia knew that her time was fast running out. Looking once again to her right she saw a large house that was fairly well lit, certainly giving the impression of being currently occupied. Making her decision in an instant, she gathered what was left of her stamina and made a mad dash for what she could only hope was some kind of safety.

Reaching the door, Cordelia began pounding with all her might, begging for entrance. Repeating the mantra in her head, “Don’t look back - Don’t look back” she of course found herself looking back. As a blur of dark color reached the edge of the cemetery, she knew that lady luck was fast abandoning her. In desperation she reached for the door handle, and to her surprise it opened under her touch. Thankful for the homeowner who must be new to Sunnydale since no one who’s lived her for any reasonable amount of time would leave their front door unlocked, Cordelia threw it open and quickly made her way to safety.

Hearing sounds coming from what she assumed was the living room, Cordelia made her way towards the voices. Knowing that even if these people were unaware of the true dangers of Sunnydale they still might react poorly to a stranger just barging into their house she prepared to announce her presence.

A small, manufactured cough turned the heads of everyone in the room. As Cordelia struggled to catch her breath felt an odd shiver run down her spine. Surviving on the Hellmouth meant trusting your instincts and her instincts were screaming that something here was off.

She had about 2 seconds to give this potential trouble some serious thought when she became aware of definite trouble as two strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist, pulling her back against a hard cool chest. Even though she knew, without a doubt in whose embrace she now found herself, hearing the deep voice, smooth and silky still shot fear through her heart.

“Excuse us.”

Chapter Two


“Excuse us.”

With those words Cordelia’s world turned into a blur of colors as she was pulled at superhuman speed out of the living room, across the hall and into what appeared to be a small study. As quickly as it began the wild ride ended and she tried to calm her dizzy senses. Looking around the room with great trepidation her eyes only confirmed what she had already guessed, she was now in the company of a being rightly called a scourge.

Completely dominating the small room, the vampire stood in a deceptively relaxed position, leaning against the door, his leather clad legs crossed at the ankles; his silk covered arms crossed over his chest.

“Unfair!” Cordelia cried. “How did you get in here without an invite?” Disgruntlement clearly written all over her face, she seemed almost like a young child who’d been cheated by a playmate and was about to call for a do-over.

“Funny thing; I only need an invite when the house belongs to humans.” Angelus paused to let that sink in. Upon hearing something that vaguely sounded like “Oh, crap”, he assumed that she had grasped the gravity of the situation in which she now found herself.

Rolling his shoulders, he pushed himself away from the door and took a step closer to the unhappy girl. Breathing deeply, he scented her fear, but to her credit he could honestly say that he’d smelled far more terror on many adversaries who were actually better equipped to face a vampire such as himself. It couldn’t be because she believed in any imminent rescue by the slayer. After the way she tore out of the graveyard she would have to know that the slayer had no idea where she was.

Could it possibly be that she, like Buffy, believed that there was some of Angel still languishing inside of him fighting to escape the demon’s control? Oh, if only that were true. To force Angel to be the one who sits silent while the soul’s instincts are ignored instead of the demon’s. What a delicious torment that would be. But alas, when the soul had departed it had taken off to parts unknown and Angelus could honestly say that he wasn’t sorry about that fact.

Well, whatever delusion she was harboring that was allowing her to contain her fear was certain to shatter when he killed her. With that happy thought in mind Angelus crowded in on the cheerleader.

“Give me my amulet, Cordelia.”

Cordelia shivered as Angelus’ sensually menacing tone seemed to flow over her body like a carnal caress. Endless nights of research had taught her that fear to vampires was like blood to sharks – it would push them into a frenzy, drawing out the predator to the exclusion of all else. So, struggling to maintain some small vestige of her outward composure she adjusted the wispy silk blouse much too nice to die in, and smoothed out the creases in her beige linen slacks and then forced her eyes to meet his.

“I hid it.”

Lips curling up in a smirk, Angelus slowly circled behind her and bent towards her ear. “Well, while I’d love to search you, I’m somewhat pressed for time so why don’t you be a good girl and hand it over.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t horror that Angelus felt flaring out from the teenager’s body, but irritation.

“Don’t be a dumbass. Why even bother to hide it if I’m just going to do so on my person? Then you could just kill me and take it. What kind of leverage would that be?” God she was tied of people constantly underestimating her.

Angelus had killed people for much less than speaking to him in such an insolent manner. Hell, he thought, he’d killed people for simply speaking, or not speaking, speaking too loudly or to softly. He just really enjoyed killing people.

“If you give it to me now I can make your death quick and...relatively painless. The longer you make me wait, the longer I’ll make you wait. How long to you think you can stay sane when I’m peeling off your skin, Cordelia?”

Suppressing the urge to vomit all over the vampire, although he clearly deserved it, Cordelia jerked her chin up and somehow, even through the waves of fear she was giving off, managed to look disdainfully over her shoulder at him.

“Let’s face it, I’d probably crack pretty quickly. I’m not one for the stiff upper lip and all. That’s probably more Giles’ thing. But I’m willing to bet that I can hold out long enough for those demons out there to come in here to find out what’s going on. Not only will you have to explain why a teenager, and not the almighty Angelus has their necklace, but I’m pretty sure that I can be terribly convincing when I tell all those nasty demons that they're in trouble ‘cause this has all been a setup and now Angel is gonna kick their ass while we wait for the slayer. How do you think they’d take that; thinking you’d tricked them?”

“Well I could kill you, that should prove who I am.”

“But that would leave you without your necklace, so we’d both be dead. Besides, I get the feeling that having my neck snapped in some freakish display of power for those demons would be far preferable to what you’d do to me if you had more time. And if I’m dying anyways, I might as well take you with me.”

Cordelia could hear the words coming out of her mouth. She knew that she was, literally, digging her own grave, but she couldn’t seem to stop. She’d worked so hard telling herself to be brave that she couldn’t seem to quit and she was fast crossing the line into stupid. Taking a deep breath she tried to redirect the exchange of death threats into a more productive, less murdery type of discourse.


Chase Business Rule #2 - Don’t be afraid to make an offer. Every successful negotiation has to start somewhere.


“Look, you want your amulet thingy and I want to get out of here with my pulse in tact. Why don’t we make a deal? You get me home, safe and sound, and I’ll give you back your necklace. You can come right back here and carry out your nefarious jewelry plotting to your heart’s content.”

Angelus stepped around in front of the girl, assessing her with new eyes. He would never have given her this much credit. The slayer had certainly never had anything complimentary to say about the girl. Of course, that was almost a recommendation to his way of thinking. Whatever she had to say was sure to be interesting, and since he seemed to have no choice he decided just to go with it and see where it took him. Of course, if it didn’t take him where he wanted to go he could always rip her beautiful head off of her shoulders.

“Making deals with the devil, Cordelia? Now, now, now, what would the slayer say?”

“Who cares as long as I’m alive to find out?”

A very valid point from her, Angelus followed it up with one of his own. “How do I know you’ll keep you end of the deal?”

Cordelia gave him a look that severely questioned his sanity. “You’re kidding right? ‘Cause yeah, that’s what I want to do – piss off the new homicidal maniac on the block. In case you’re missing it here, I’m not trying to be a hero, I’m trying to get home in an entirely not dead state. To that end I could care less about your evil accessories. You’re welcome to it if it gets me home. Believe me, I’m no Buffy. I’m not dying to save the world. If I’m going to be dead, frankly the rest of the world can go to Hell for all I care.”

If it wouldn’t have given her away, Cordelia would have crossed her fingers in the hopes that Angelus bought her bluff. After all, if she didn’t care then why would she have been there tonight. Still, she really wasn’t a part of the group when Angel was around, so he’d probably just remember her as Buffy’s bitchy nemesis.

Angelus realized that whatever he decided he’d have to act fast. Frustrated, but knowing that the demons wouldn’t wait forever, he realized he had no choice but to work with the young brunette and then kill her once he had the amulet.

“Alright.”

Cordelia blinked at the abrupt turn around. Knowing she shouldn’t question her good fortune she couldn’t help but ask, “Alright what?”

“You – home, safe and sound; the amulet with me.”

Almost dizzy with relief that there might be a light at the end of this tunnel that didn’t have people beckoning her towards the afterlife, she quickly accepted. “Deal. Let’s go.”

At Angelus’ continued pause Cordelia tuned wide, questioning eyes his way. “What now?”

As if explaining to a child, Angelus pointed out, “You do understand that they’re not going to believe that I’m palling around with a human for no reason.”

“Well then you better think of one.”

Cordelia knew that the smirk on his face did not bode well for her, but she was also supremely aware of her lack of options.

“Oh, I already have.”

With those chilling words, Angelus used his preternatural speed to pull her to him, restraining her with his left hand, while winding his right hand through the heavy silken strands of her hair, he snapped her head back and barred her throat. Sliding his left hand up over her generous curves to cover her mouth, he stifled her scream as he sliced his fangs through her velvet skin and into her jugular.

As Cordelia’s essence surged into his mouth in time to the accelerated pounding of her heart, Angelus experienced things about her that only a vampire could ever know.

He tasted the fear crashing through every cell, invading every molecule. He was impressed that she was able to hide so much fear so well. Most people were reduced to hysterical sobbing and incoherent pleadings for their life by now.

Beyond the fear he tasted a myriad of emotions; feelings he wouldn’t have expected from the beautiful and popular cheerleader – pain, solitude, emptiness, so many emotions that run contrary to the persona he had always associated with the girl.

There was also the fiery taste of her anger. She was mad as Hell that he'd dared to bite her, and if he wasn’t a powerful demon he’d be extremely wary of the ire rushing through her entire system.

But as Angelus waded through all of those sensations, each alluring in it’s own way, each giving him access to places she would never willingly allow him, the thing that startled him more than anything was something he had never anticipated – her innocence.

Angelus had long been a connoisseur of virgins. Some might say it was his specialty. Although his fixation had started as a way to mock Darla – always chasing purity, valuing it above all else, knowing that it drove his sire mad to be constantly reminded, no matter how subtly, that she was a whore. But whatever the reason the hobby had grown into a lustful infatuation. There was no denying that the blood of the untouched was different somehow. It was sweeter, thicker, it held hopes and dreams unspoiled by time or experience. It had an almost mystical feel to it, which wasn’t odd if one considered that it was often used in rituals and magick ceremonies.

But whereas most virgins, being untried by life, were timid by nature, Cordelia was an intriguing dichotomy of strength and fragility. She was a swirling mass of loneliness and despair held back by sheer force of will alone. She was confidence and pride, which she used to cover a tender heart and gentle soul. She was a puzzle, the likes of which he’d never seen before, and he wondered, briefly, at the kind of demon she would make.

That thought brought Angelus crashing back to reality as he realized that he had a house full of powerful and influential demons waiting for him. He sadly concluded that this was not the time to be indulging in these particular fantasies. In a way he was somewhat relieved. He’d hate to think that because of a few sips of, admittedly amazing blood he’d be stuck with someone like Cordelia Chase for eternity. One undead bitch in his life had been more than enough, thank you.

With those sobering thoughts in mind Angelus withdrew his fangs from her neck and gently laved his wounds with his tongue, sealing them. As he pulled his head back he admired the twin punctures now adorning her neck. They were red and angry and it was already apparent that they would leave an impressive scar. The sight sent a frisson of possessiveness running through him but he easily tamped it down. After all, he was a master vampire, he could rule his instincts when the need arose. Thankfully though, the need rarely arose.

Tearing his gaze from her throat and meeting her eyes, he smiled slightly to see Cordelia’s fierce look of anger and betrayal. As she slapped her hand over the wound on her throat Angelus bit back a growl as the torn flesh disappeared from his sight.

“What the Hell are you doing? I thought we had a deal!”

He flinched at the high pitched screech that assaulted his ears. “We did, I’m just keeping up my end.”

“By snacking on me?” Disbelief dripped from every syllable.

“By giving you a legitimate reason for being here.” The vampire scowled.

“Dinner?!?”

Slowly the scowl turned into a mischievous grin. “Pet.”

Cordelia’s mouth opened and closed as she struggled to swallow the rage in her throat long enough to speak. Angelus enjoyed what he was sure was a rare moment of silence from her, but as the seconds went by he found himself wishing for her to regain the power of speech just so he could here whatever surprising thing she was sure to say next.

Cordelia finally managed to pull in a lungful of oxygen, which she promptly spit back out in a flow of acerbic words. “What? No way, buster. I’d rather let the demons kill me.”

Even though Angelus knew that time was short he couldn’t help winding up the livid girl in front of him. “Now baby, what kind of master would I be if I let someone damage my property?”

Cordelia froze at the condecending question. “God, you’re such a bastard!”

Grabbing hold of her chin he pulled her face up so that her gaze locked with his. “It would be wise not to forget that, sweetheart.”

“Geez, you’re such a guy, except instead of your penis all your decisions are made by your fangs. Do you have no impulse control?”

Moving his hand from her face to her arm, his other hand came forward to grasp her shoulders in a punishing grip. “You think I’m happy about this?” The intimidating words growled deep in his throat.

Shaking off the restraining hands, a clear indication that he was ready to let her go, Cordelia spat back, “You bet you are. There’s nothing wrong with my blood, buddy. I taste great...and isn’t this so the wrong thing to be telling a vampire.”

The smirk tilted Angelus’ sensual lips once again as he pretended to consider Cordelia’s rash words. “Actually, I didn’t take that much. To make an informed decision as to the quality of your blood I’d have to have another sample.”

Even as he said the words he knew they were a lie. He’d imbibed more than enough of Cordelia Chase to say that, without a doubt, she was one of the most intoxicating flavors that had ever teased his pallet. But in the remarkably short time he knew her he could deduce, with absolute certainty, that this was information she would find neither reassuring nor complimentary.

In a testament to the strength of her will, Cordelia pulled herself together, straightened he spine and affected a cold and disinterested look. “Pfft, whatever.” She dismissed his ridiculous offer with a wave of her hand. She hesitated for a moment, a look of indecision crossing her face. “Look, this shouldn’t be so hard, right? It’s just acting and I’ve been thinking about taking drama when I get into college and out of this hellhole, so this will be good practice. So,” Cordelia looked up at Angelus in expectation, “what’s my motivation?”

Wondering if he’d ever been in a situation that made less sense than this, Angelus questioned her ludicrous statement in confusion, “What?”

“My motivation. You know, why I’m doing this.”

Well, at least that was fairly obvious to him. “So you’ll live to be killed another day, remember?”

“Duh. We know that’s my motivation, but they” Cordelia wildly gestured to indicate those outside of the room, “don’t know that. What’s my motivation for them?”

“Look,” Angelus bit out, slightly stunned at being duhed. “Outside this room is a clan of A’toreal demons. I need their backing to solidify my hold on this truly Godforsaken town. They’re concerned about rumors of my soul. The amulet is a way to show them that there’s nothing here but 100% demon. You don’t need a motivation for any of that. You just need to keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking. Now let’s go.”

Showing how little he knew of Cordelia Chase, Angelus considered the matter closed and began pulling her back towards the room full of demons eagerly awaiting an explanation of their earlier sudden arrival and departure.

As they entered the living room the demons rose from their seats to greet them. As they addressed Angelus Cordelia took the opportunity to inspect them more closely.

Dressed in casual yet upscale clothing, they gave the impression of nothing more sinister than businessmen gathering after hours to network over some drinks. Humanoid in appearance Cordelia really couldn’t find anything that would betray their demon status until what appeared to be the leader of this little get together turned his gaze to her.

A shiver of fear worked its way up her spine as, underneath a shock of yellow hair, she peered into eyes that were completely black, as if the pupil had expanded to engulf not just the iris but also the whites. It was a stark reminder that this was not one of her father’s business parties and she would do well to be on guard. That warning in mind she forced her attention to what was being said.

“Angelus,” The demon spoke to the vampire but his stare was trained disdainfully on Cordelia. “I’m glad you could make it. But I must say, I’m rather surprised that you brought your pet.”

Shit, Angelus cursed in his head. Gaining the trust of the A’toreal clan was essential to his plans. This task was difficult enough without one of the slayer’s damn do-gooders tagging along. God, he was going to enjoy killing her.

As Angelus went to answer the demon’s unspoken reprimand he was brought up short by the voice already answering the query. It was soft and feminine; a voice he didn’t know intimately, but one with which he was certainly familiar. But no, it couldn’t be. He was sure that they had agreed that she would keep her mouth shut and he would do all of the talking. Through the white hot blaze of his anger came the idle question of whether or not ripping Cordelia’s constantly moving tongue out of her head in front of these demons would do more to help or hurt his cause.

Forcing himself to listen as Cordelia ruined all of his hard work, he heard what he knew must be the most asinine statement to ever cross her lips.

“Not a pet.” Cordelia said in a soothing, introductory tone. “I prefer to think of myself as a business asset.”

Angelus, who was still holding Cordelia’s hand in his began applying an enormous amount of pressure to that particular extremity in the hope that she would shut up and let him rescue what he could of this debacle. Although his grip was not designed to break, it would definitely bruise and it was to her credit that her smile never faltered for an instant.

Once again as Angelus would have interjected he was beaten to the punch, this time by the head of the A’toreal clan.

“Business asset, really?” The flaxen-haired demon questioned skeptically.

This time, Angelus consoled himself, he had actually gotten his mouth open before he was cut off.

“Indeed.” Cordelia agreed as if the demon’s reply had been a reassertion of her statement rather than a questioning of her status. “How do you think your little trinket got away from the slayer tonight?”

His attention completely diverted by mention of that which they so desperately sought, the demon eagerly questioned, “The amulet? You have it?”

Finally, the vampire thought, someone was going to let him speak. Usually he didn’t have this much trouble commanding attention, but he felt that it might be counterproductive to start ripping the limbs off of the very people he was bargaining with just so he could get a word in edgewise.

“It’s safe.” Angelus confirmed. “It’s waiting to be returned to you as soon as we reaffirm that our deal still stands.”

Cordelia wondered exactly what the amulet did as the demons before her began practically salivating at the thought of their prized possession being back in their grasp. She doubted it was actually a fashion accessory, because no one here was wearing anything that wouldn’t completely clash with it.

“Of course, of course.” The disapproving demon of mere minutes ago was gone, replaced by this new obsequious version. “Once the amulet is in our possession you can be assured of both the backing and the gratitude of the A’toreal clan.”

“That’s good to know. Gentlemen.” As far as Angelus was concerned this nightmare was over. He’d managed to smooth things over with this powerful and influential band of demons, he was within minutes of getting his hands on the amulet, and he’d have the pleasure of killing the obnoxious girl next to him before the sunrise. All in all a good way to end things.

These pleasant musings were brought up short as the demon, oblivious to Angelus’ plans to leave, turned his attention from the vampire and back to his “pet”.

“So, you say you got the amulet from the slayer tonight. You don’t seem to be possessed of any supernatural powers, certainly nothing to rival a slayer’s. So how, exactly, did you accomplish this feat?”

Now assured of the return of the amulet, the demon had dropped his almost accusatory tone and adopted one of mere curiosity.

Although Cordelia didn’t lie often she knew that lies were easier to manage the more truth they contained. To that end she carefully formulated her answer using as much reality as she could without giving herself or the vampire next to her away, thus hurling herself towards a grizzly death.

“Simple. The slayer told me where it was and sent me to retrieve it for her. I hid it instead and came here.”

To say that her words were shocking to the room full of demons would have been like saying that Xander liked a little snack now and then - a complete understatement.

As the demons rushed to assume defensive positions, an older demon from the back of the room came forward. “You work with the slayer?” He practically spat the question at her.

Cordelia, deciding that the most expedient way to calm the now tense atmosphere was to ignore it, flashed a truly evil smirk that rivaled that of Angelus himself and clarified. “Well, the slayer thinks I do.”

As if she had let them in on some joke at the slayer’s expense that she found vastly amusing, her warm, sultry laughter flowed over the occupants of the room, soothing the demon’s frayed nerves.

That velvety caress of sound, however, had the opposite effect on the only vampire occupant of the room, heightening his tension and tightening his pants. He was so astounded by this new feeling regarding the girl that he almost missed that she had continued spinning her tale for the demon’s who were now riveted by her engrossing presence.

Turning so that she could better see her audience, Cordelia placed her back lightly against Angelus’ chest in a show of unity that was the ultimate fiction of the evening

“You don’t honestly believe the slayer is still around because Angelus can’t kill her?”

As many of the demons looked away, confirming that very thought, a soft growl echoed from Angelus’ chest to Cordelia’s back in a clear command to drop this dangerous line of inquiry.

Of course, Cordelia was never one to stop when she considered herself to be ahead. Then again, she was never one to stop when she considered herself to be behind, either.

“No” Cordelia corrected what she implied was their misconception. “The slayer’s still around because she can’t kill Angelus. She has all these feelings.” The disgust with which Cordelia apparently viewed the slayer was evident in her voice. Leaning back into Angelus’ as if to erase the slayer’s claim on him and replace it with her own, she was surprised to feel his arms twist around her waist, pulling her in much closer than she, personally thought was necessary for their little show. Suppressing the small fluttering in her stomach as his lips brushed the top of her head, she continued.

“She loved him, and she can’t conceive that he doesn’t love her; that it’s all been a game. And really, why on earth would Angelus kill a slayer who can’t work herself up to kill him just so a new one would be called who could? Not that a slayer would ever be able to kill you baby.”

Acting was turning out to be way harder than Cordelia had originally thought as, forcing down her natural inclination to gag, she turned her head up towards that of the vampire’s and gazed at him in what hopefully appeared to be genuine adoration.

With wicked humor glinting in his rapidly darkening eyes, Angelus moved quickly to capture the lips turned so temptingly towards his own. Thrusting his tongue between startled lips he proceeded to once again submerge himself in the essence of Cordelia Chase, and although the taste was somewhat muted in comparison to her blood, it was still, truly sublime.

With a small cough the demon interrupted the kiss, much to the relief of Cordelia who was finding herself drawn into the moment far too deep and far too quickly. Pulling herself back to reality she tried to concentrate on the demon’s words and ignore the intriguing and lingering taste of the vampire on her lips.

“A game you say?”


Chase Business Rule #3 – People will believe anything if they think that it was their idea.


Biting back a supremely self-satisfied grin, Cordelia nodded her head and widened her eyes as if greatly astounded. “You know, Angelus told me that your clan was a very influential force in Hellmouth politics, but I’m truly impressed. Most people don’t get it even now that he’s dropped the soul act.”

The A’toreal representative spoke slowly, trying to find out more without looking like he didn’t already know and thus embarrassing his clan. “Act...”

Angelus was torn between stopping the impetuous girl in his arms before she misspoke and letting her go just to see where her fanciful story would take them. After all, everything she’d said so far had been extremely beneficial and it was certainly more convincing coming from her than from him.

Cordelia gestured sagely towards the demons and spoke as if confirming something that they obviously already knew and silently gave thanks to Giles for droning on endlessly about the Aurelius Order after Angelus had appeared. It was stuff that, much like algebra, you were always surprised to find had real world applications, and she solemnly vowed to never again hope that his tweed spontaneously combusted.

“Yes, and kudos to you for spotting it. As you know, Angelus dumped his simpering sire a century ago. She just didn’t have the long term vision needed for greatness. Then my sly fox set about gathering what he would need to claim the Hellmouth.”

The demons, feeling as if they were now privy to inside information listened with rapt attention as she continued weaving her web of deceit.

“But with the Master getting ready to rise there would have been quite a shake up in the Order of Aurelius. So Angelus shows up as “Angel”, tortured vampire cursed with a soul.” Cordelia added a snort her for good measure. “He goes on and on about how he wants to make up for all of the wrongs he’s done, the lives he’s ruined.”

The leaders of the A’toreal clan, getting into the spirit of these fascinating revelations, chuckled at Cordelia’s melodramatic tone and the arm which she’d thrown over her eyes in mock horror.

“So our poor, remorseful do-gooder is accepted into the slayer’s good graces, her tender heart, and finally into her bed. And really, let me just say, ewww! Talk about taking one for the team.”

Laughter again erupted into the spellbound room, quickly calming down as they waited for her to continue to enlighten them.

“Of course, once her feelings are all involved he “convinces” her” Cordy pauses to make air quotes, “to remove all of the obstacles to his taking control of the Order.”

“First, he uses her to lure Darla to the Bronze, away from the majority of the Master’s minions, so he can stake her.” She takes a moment her so that they can appreciate the deviousness of a vampire willing, not just to murder his sire, but to cold bloodedly plan it out.

“The he has Buffy kill the Master, thereby eliminating any challenges to his claim. Then the “curse” is “broken” and he “loses his soul”, taking away the slayer’s “true love”, the rock in the turbulent ocean of her life.”

Okay, now Cordelia was making herself sick reliving the angst that was the Buffy and Angel debacle. And she was pretty sure that her fingers were going to cramp from all of the air quoting. Still, if this got her in her own bed tonight with the majority of her own blood running through her veins then it was worth it the boost she knew she was giving Angelus in his evil-type endeavors.

“So” she persevered, “not only is he in the perfect position to take the Hellmouth, but he’s also broken the slayer, leaving her weak and ineffectual.”

The demons were beginning to look at Angelus with something akin to awe. And, much to Cordelia’s disgust he was preening under all of the attention.

“But, why the story about losing the soul. Why not just tell the slayer that she’d been duped?” This astute question came from the back of the room where the older members of the A’toreal clan sat.

Cordelia, feeling the high of successful improvisation continued piecing together a plausible story.

“Actually, the story serves two purposes: One, It keeps the slayer off balance. Every time she sees Angelus it hurts all over again because she’s lost her soul mate. But no matter how much it hurts she’ll never kill the big guy because she keeps holding on to the hope that she’ll get her Angel back one day. We laugh about that a lot.”

She looked lovingly once more at Angelus but seeing the twinkle in his eyes and remembering how this gambit had played out last time she jerked her head back around before he had a chance to take advantage of her momentary lapse.

Covering her unease, Cordelia flashed the crowd a blinding smile and launched into the finale that she hoped would push her into the not killing category.

“Now the second reason is a bit more complex, but with your leading role in the power structure here I’m sure you can appreciate how difficult it can be to keep the...lesser demons in line.” Cordelia’s smile, which seemed to indicate that they were all conspiring together, had them all inclining their heads in agreement.

“Not many of the demons around here are as observant and discerning as you. Unlike your clan, they weren’t able to see that it was all a ploy. If they were told what you’ve been able to figure out they would feel stupid and humiliated. Allowing them to keep their pride is much easier than killing them all for being less than cooperative.” That last part was all truth, because Cordelia had no doubt that anyone who wasn’t pro-Angelus was just dead. Honestly, wasn’t she just being pro-Angelus to avoid her own untimely demise?

With that disturbing thought she decided that now would be a good time to wrap things up. So, gracing them with a wink and another brilliant smile she finished. “Besides, what fun is ruling with no subjects. It’s a wise leader who can forgo violence for expediency...” A shark like look transformed her face. “Now matter how fun violence may be.”

Cordelia relaxed back against Angelus to indicate that she was finished. As his arms dropped down to her hips he pulled her in tightly, allowing her to feel, up close and personal, the effect her “help” had on him. If there was one thing that Angelus loved more than virgins it was strong resourceful women. The fact that he’d found all of those things in Cordelia was, as she could attest, more than arousing.

Feeling Angelus’ appreciation pressing into her backside the phrase, “Out of the frying pan, into the fire” ran briefly through her mind. On the other hand, Cordelia figured that she had a better chance of turning him off between here and her house than she would convincing him not to kill her, because she really had no illusions that sometimes spending time with her made people more homicidal rather than less.

The lead representative of the A’toreal clan straightened to his full, rather unassuming height and stepped forward, extending his hand to the vampire. “Well, Angelus, your foresight has certainly come to fruition. It’s well past time that the Hellmouth sees some leadership with long term vision and long range plans. Be assured that you definitely enjoy the support of the A’toreal clan. Maybe with someone like you at the helm here we could be convinced to spend far more time in Sunnydale.”

As Angelus shook his hand, Cordelia thought she might be sick. The demon world was apparently just like the real world - The woman does all the work, the guy gets all the credit. She could barely keep herself from rolling her eyes.

Angelus, however, had no problem at all with receiving the credit for the night’s work. In a voice that was almost purring with satisfaction at this successful endeavor he took his leave. “Well, gentlemen, as fun as it’s been, my...asset” he paused just long enough to run his hands up and then back down the curves of Cordelia’s lush body, sending chills racing through her, “and I have things to do before I send my little wolf back into the slayer’s flock. So, if you’ll excuse us.”


Chapter Three


Acting quickly so as not to give Cordelia a chance to disrupt the delicate balance of power that she had established, Angelus wrapped his right arm around her, securing her to his side, and before she knew it they were out of the house. Another blink of swirling colors and they were back in the cemetery.

Suddenly everything stopped and then started again as Angelus released his grip on all except her hand which he used to spin her around to face him. Cordelia, sure that all of this speeding around was going to make her hurl, briefly considered aiming for the big dumb vampire and his lovely cobalt blue silk shirt. Although destroying his shirt would be satisfying, wardrobe damage probably wasn’t worth her life. Besides, she knew that she’d probably be better off trying to destroy some of Xander’s shirts. Not only would that not get her killed, but it would be a good dead almost worthy of the slayer.

As soon as the nausea passed the anger took over. “What the Hell did you think you were doing in there?” Cordelia brought her hands to her lips and began scrubbing furiously, but still Angelus could make out the nearly hysterical words coming out of her mouth. “Ewww! Vampire lips! Lips of the undead! Bah!!!” Suddenly the scrubbing was replaced by spitting noises. “Ptuey! Ptuey!”

Angelus frowned at the spectacle of the cheerleader jumping up and down in the cemetery trying to disinfect herself as if she’d been attacked by a leper. What was wrong with his lips? He’d kissed thousands of women with these lips and he’d never had any complaints. Sure, most of them died soon after and the least of their grievances against him would have been his kissing technique. But not all of them died and they never said anything derogatory. Hell, even the slayer liked his lips - and wasn’t that a disgusting image. Suddenly he, too, felt like spitting and wiping away imaginary cooties.

What was it about this girl that made the world seem slightly over tilted on its axis? A mission that should have involved nothing more than her death and the instant retrieval of his amulet instead turned into a night of amazing revelations.

He had actually claimed the girl. Not just marked her as part of the Order, but claimed her as his own. At first the thought hadn’t bothered him because he'd assumed that he’d be killing her before the night was through. But now...he wasn’t so sure.

A claim was a strong bond between a vampire and their human. While marks were given to human minions to delineate them as part of an Order, protect them while on clan business, and make them more malleable, claims were much different. They denoted a vampire’s emotional investment in a human; a taking of a pet. It was a bone deep infusing of one’s scent that declared, “This is mine and mine alone” and bespoke of the wrath that would be faced should one dare to trespass. And while it wasn’t frequent that one saw such a bond between a vampire and a human, it was by no means rare. Some vampires actually preferred to claim a human years before they turned them, thus strengthening the already compelling sire/childe bond.

Generally bonds worked best on weak-minded humans who were often chosen as servants, but even strong willed people would feel the pull. A claiming bond was infinitely more potent than that, cracking even the strongest of wills.

Angelus thoughts flew back to 1824 when Darla had claimed a demon hunter who had followed them for months all across Europe. He had a remarkably fierce will and it had taken months for the bond to break him, but when it did there was nothing he could do to resist.

Of course, that was the deconstructing of a fanatic. Most normal people felt the compulsion of the bond at once. And yet, here was Cordelia Chase acting as if his touch was repellent and she couldn’t wait to cast him from her sight.

That couldn’t be right. There was no way the shallow, self-centered bitch of Sunnydale High whom the slayer’s little gang spoke of with such contempt could be this strong. She was dating the moron for God’s sake.

He briefly considered that maybe he’d done it wrong. It had definitely been a while since he’d done anything like that, over 100 years. Maybe he was a little rusty. But no, he could smell himself all over her. And wasn’t that intoxicating - his scent mated with hers, swirling around her, declaring his possession of her.

For the bond was certainly not one-sided. The vampire, too, was affected by it. Possessive and demanding by nature, a claiming bond magnified those feelings exponentially. Just as it, over time, increased the submissiveness in the human’s nature it also increased the dominant nature of the vampire. The drive to own the person, to control every aspect of their life until everything they had was yours - their obedience, their loyalty, their love, became an imperative, escalating until it became painful for the human not to give and for the vampire not to receive.

He could feel the need to be acknowledged already churning in his gut. Why was she feeling nothing? She couldn’t be that accomplished of an actress, could she?

But of course she could. Hadn’t he seen for himself tonight as she pretended to be his adoring pet and his partner in crime. He’d hoped that when this night was over he’d be one step closer to his ultimate goal, and yet instead, he found himself immeasurably nearer to consolidating his position on the Hellmouth. And though he would never admit this outside of his head, he owed a lot of that to Cordelia Chase. A lot of it, Hell, he owed almost all of it to her.

Her quick thinking had solved problems he’d been struggling with for weeks. She created not just a plausible, but a beneficial explanation for the slayer’s continued existence. More than that, in less than an hour she’d undone the century of damage done by the soul.

Her cunning mind and easy grace had led the demons to every conclusion she wished them to reach - that the slayer had been duped, that he’d organized what amounted to the assassination of those above him in the Order, and most magnificently, that he’d never had a soul, that it had all been a ruse to gain power - an honor worthy pursuit in the demon world.

But the coup de grace had been convincing them that they were brilliant for seeing what no one else had. By implying that only lesser demons would have been taken in by the artifice, she guaranteed that by this time next week the entire demon community would not just be claiming that he had no soul, but each asserting that they had known all along.

For there was no way that the A’toreal clan would keep this juicy bit of information to themselves. No, they would want to preen and posture, basking in the glow of knowing something others did not, and in an endless jockeying for position and face saving all the other demons would jump on the bandwagon.

Still somewhat stunned by the doors that Cordelia had opened for him he chose to ignore her childish display and got back to business.

“Where’s the amulet, Cordelia?”

Cordelia stopped her pantomime of spitting and looked up at the vampire who loomed far too large in this dark graveyard. “Nuh-uh. Home, safe and sound. That was the deal. My car’s just a few rows over. Once I’m home you can have your Crackerjack prize.

Angelus controlled his rumble of discontent and once again grabbed her arm. Thankfully he chose not to use his demon speed, maybe sensing that Cordelia’s stomach couldn’t take much more and wanting no part of that unpleasantness. Still, with his large stride Cordelia was rushing to keep up.

Reaching the car, Angelus held his hand out in a silent demand for the keys. This time Cordelia made no effort to contain her eye roll, and loudly pffted almost directly in his face as she pushed passed him, unlocked the door and slid into the driver’s seat. Her life was certainly important, but come on, this was her beautiful sports car. No one drove it but her. Not Xander, not Harmony, and certainly not the guy who could crash it with impunity knowing that he’d survive any crash except maybe one into a lumber mill.

Shooting her a death glare as he climbed into the passenger’s seat Cordelia replied to his ultra-clear nonverbal communiqué.

“What?! You haven’t even been around since they invented cars.”

Angelus ground his teeth at her response as he managed to grind out, “I can drive.”

“Not my car you can’t.” As she looked over at the fuming vampire she decided to try to give that discretion thing one more try before she was strangled with her own tongue.

As they passed through the security gates and pulled up in front of the Chase home it was clear that no one was home. Angelus was out of the car and around to Cordelia’s door before she could even shut off the motor.

Escorting her to the front door he turned her to face him. “Here you are, safe and sound.”

“No,” Cordelia replied, “I’m here, but I’m not safe ‘til I’m on the other side of that door.”

Angelus smiled, surprisingly, not unkindly at her. “You know I can’t let you go in there without telling me where the amulet is, Cordelia.”

In a ploy that had been working for her very well tonight, Cordelia let Angelus think that he was in control of the situation. Letting him believe that his crowding of her was intimidating she slowly inched her way until she was leaning entirely against the door.

Chase Business Rule #4 – Just because you’re in business with someone doesn’t mean you have to trust them.

Before Angelus could react, even considering his great speed, the Chase’s large wooden entryway opened causing Cordelia to fly backwards into an elegant entrance hall.

As he watched all of his plans crumble as Cordelia scrambled backwards, Angelus began expelling rapid fire obscenities and beating his hands futilely against the mystical barrier preventing him from snapping her neck.

Cordelia, finally assured that he couldn’t follow, held up her key chain before the amber eyes of the now fully vamped Angelus. Gesturing to a small black device dangling amongst the keys she explained. “Electronic locks. They automatically open the doors to the car” Cordelia pointed to the appropriate button, “to the garage door” again displaying the correct control, “and this one - the front door. Daddy likes me to be safe”

Angelus’ words took on a guttural tone as he barely managed to push words through the rage choking him. “Safe? You bitch, when I get a hold of you they won’t be able to identify your body, if they can find all the pieces - ”

Cordelia waved of his threats and hurried to cut off talk of her imminent death at his hands. “Geez, don’t get your knickers in a twist, grr guy. Your necklace is in the cemetery in the flower vase of Emily Winston’s tombstone.”

Pausing in the process of attacking the barrier once again, a confused look crossed Angelus’ face and, as if finding an appropriate home, seemed to settle there. All other thoughts escaping him he asked the one question that wouldn’t flee in light of this shocking concession.

“Why?”

Although in the short time they’d spent together that evening Cordelia had spent most of her time lying, the eyes that lifted to meet Angelus’ now clearly contained nothing but a pure and unvarnished truth far more characteristic of the lovely brunette.

“Look Buffy can build her mansion in the land of denial for all I care. But you and I live in reality...well, I live, you exist. Your big plan for Buffy is to kill her friends, kill her family and leave her broken and alone. I get that.”

“But Buffy doesn’t want to believe that because then she’d have to kill you and she doesn’t want to do that. She believes that, deep down, there’s some of Angel in you still. Of course, you and I both know that, salty good exterior aside, you’re no Angel. She’s just not prepared to understand that the only constant thing about Angel is you. You’re the natural state, although not the preferred one, and Angel is the temporary component in this equation.”

“So I know that everyone around her slayership is on your list, but I figure - Buffy and I, not the greatest of friends. In fact, killing me might actually be a favor in her mind. So I have to believe that I’m fairly low on the “Angelus’ List of People to Kill Today”.”

“Why’d I give you the necklace? Simple; I don’t want to move up.”

Angelus considered her explanation. Short and to the point it underscored his earlier thoughts that Angel and the entire Scooby gang had severely underestimated the girl standing before him.

Not entirely sure whether he was taunting the brunette or genuinely enquiring he probed her understanding of the ramifications of her decision.

“You do understand that by giving me the amulet you’ve basically guaranteed my ascendance to power in this town.”

Hazel eyes shot him an incredulous look. “And I care because? Whether you’re in charge or the arterial clan - ”

“The A’toreal clan.”

“Gee, thanks Giles.” Cordelia shot back, sticking her tongue out at the vampire.

Angelus had the grace to look chagrined, knowing that he had, indeed sounded just like the watcher. But embarrassment was soon overtaken by lust as the tongue he had feasted on earlier that evening came into view.

“Anyways” Cordelia carried on having no idea the directions the vampire’s thoughts were now heading, “like I care which demon runs the Hellmouth. You’d all kill me as soon as give me a second glance.”

His thoughts still filled with better ways she could use that tongue than mocking him, Angelus slowly let his gaze wander down her body, eyes pausing to gauge the fullness of the breasts straining against the thin burgundy silk of her blouse, appreciating the firm curves of her hips highlighted by the thin material of her pants, the endless length of her legs. His blatant desire was an almost physical caress as he burned his way back up the path he’d just descended, meeting her eyes and flashing her a smile that would rarely be seen outside of the bedroom.

“I don’t know, Cordelia. I’d certainly give you a second glance.”

Despite the rapid beating of her heart and the aching deep in her belly that accompanied the mental stripping the vampire had given her, she attempted to retain at least her outward composure, and, pinning him with the easy glare of one often admired, dismissed what she assumed he thought passed for a compliment.

“And now I have to take two showers.”

He paused for a moment. That was never the reaction he got from the opposite sex, especially once he expressed an interest. And dammit all, she was his! She should be feeling something.

As the absurdity of the entire evening came crashing down on him, Angelus threw back his head and laughed, a deep, sensual sound.

Cordelia was right in her assessment of his intentions. He was planning on killing everyone in the slayers life. What he hadn’t planned on was Cordelia Chase. She’d spent the evening surprising him continuously, and after a quarter of a millennium, that wasn’t that easy.

She’d definitely accomplished her goal - She’d moved herself to the bottom of his kill list. Maybe off it entirely.

After all, limited exposure to each other should restrict the bond, and he certainly had no reason to hang out with the girl. Even with the soul he’d rarely spent time with her.

Besides, it could only help his reputation in the demon community to have a pet in the slayer’s camp. Yes, Cordelia Chase was certainly off the killing agenda.

Angelus’ kindly musings were interrupted by Cordelia once again. “Of course, the biggest reason I’m giving you your amulet is so that I can watch the slayer kick your ass getting it back.”

And she was back on the list, Angelus thought as she winked and closed the door in his face. But breathing in her lingering scent which stirred his predatory instincts in for more than just homicidal ways, he knew that she was indisputably at the bottom.

As Angelus turned to make his way back home his steps were contemplative as he wondered whether Cordelia Chase presented a burden or an opportunity.

tbc in Part Two: The Encore