Numb

(A/N: Co-written with Catscorner)

Wesley had gone through the motions. Worked, researched, planned ... done his job... answered Cordelia's questions but ignored her questioning looks, growled right back at an extremely growly Angel... and then he'd come home... alone. Not quite. He did have company.... went by the name of Jack Daniels. And when he left, there was Johnny Walker.

But Johnny was almost gone, and he was only half way through throwing her things into a box. He hadn't realized how many things she left at his place, or how used he'd gotten to them...so much so, he'd stopped noticing them. Even the women's things in the bathroom cabinet.

Right... he'd gotten used to having her around, and he'd damn well get used to not having her around. Lifting the bottle to his mouth, he cursed seeing it was almost finished. It might be almost finished, but he wasn't.

Dropping the bottle into a paper bag, so he could keep drinking as he walked to a local bar, he walked out, closing the door but not bothering to lock it. He'd forget her with the bottle tonight, and maybe tomorrow he'd find a different way... some other way to burn the images of her with the DA out of his mind.

Having just stepped off the elevator as Wesley was leaving his apartment, Cordelia had a moment to watch him before he saw her. He looked as shitty as she felt. Even a scalding hot shower and an exfoliating sponge couldn’t erase the memory of Lance staring at her with utter disillusionment after her failure to heal his dying warlock friend.

Feeling completely hollow inside, Cordelia got it in her head that numb would be better. She thought of going to see Rictus at Caritas to get him to make her something potent, but after the argument they’d had, she wasn’t sure he’d be sympathetic her anguish over her personal failure. He seemed to like being apathetic when it came to the fight against good and evil. And then there was her new gift – or curse, or maybe it was just a fluke. She didn’t understand it, but she knew one person who might. So she stopped at a liquor store before heading over to Welsey’s apartment.

Seeing him now, Cordelia could tell that he was in a really bad head space… even worse than she’d thought after their meeting that morning. She knew he’d gone through some pretty dark times when she’d been in a coma and if he was planning on going back there just because Lilah was yanking his chains (or other unmentionables) again… well, Cordy was damned if she was going to just stand by and watch him disintegrate.

“That your new weapon of choice?” she nodded to the bottle-shaped paper bag and lifted a brow in question as she headed toward Wesley.

He rubbed his temple. He didn't need this, not now. "I'm not on the job. Don't need a weapon," he answered, curious as to what she was doing there, but not curious enough to ask.

“Oh that’s the problem with our line of work… you can never go anywhere without weapons. Didn’t you teach me that?” she pulled the strap of her large Coach bag higher up on her shoulder and stood hipshot, clearly not intending to move out of his way.

He looked at her and sighed. "Not tonight, Cordelia." He gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm out of weapons... and must replenish. Killing invisible monsters is a difficult task."

Cordelia’s mouth twitched into a half smile and she pulled two bottles from her bag, one bottle of Jack Daniels and another bottle of Raspberry Vodka. She clanked them together lightly. “Good thing I am a good student.”

His gaze was glued to the former contents of her bag. "That one's a girl's drink," he said, meeting her gaze. At first he'd thought she must have guessed he would hit the bottle and was thinking about him, but now he wondered.

She turned the silver and magenta label toward her and gave the Vodka it a look over. “Well yes, I am a girl… in case you hadn’t noticed. And this one is for you. Because I’m a giver,” she handed him what was apparently the ‘more manly’ bottle of Jack and breezed past him to open the door to his unlocked apartment.

"That one's for you," his mind had slowed a bit. Giving her a nod, and gripping her gift tight, he lead the way back inside. "A word of caution, that phrase may be taken in ways you never imagined."

“Oh, I also have quite an imagination,” she answered, undaunted by the ominous lilt in his voice. “And judging by the slur and swagger, it looks like I have some catching up to do.” Cordelia headed straight into the kitchen, set her bag down and opened the fridge looking for some juice. Almost anything would do as a mixer, but she drew the line at expired eggnog. Settling for vodka over ice, she found a glass and poured herself a drink before looking up at Wesley again. “So, spill it. No wait, let me guess…” she looked up to the ceiling as if she were thinking. “That dead lawyer whore has gotten to you, hasn't she?"

He didn't bother with a glass for himself. "No, but ..." Looking at the amber liquid in his bottle, he met her gaze. "If she'd had any sense of timing, she would have been the one at my door."

Cordelia took a long drink, scrutinizing him over the rim of her glass before coughing and squeezing her eyes shut against the burn that scorched her throat. “Okay… so… not the smoothest stuff I could have bought.” Eyes watering she moved over to Wesley, chasing the burn with another drink.

“Okay, so, I don’t know what you mean by that exactly, but anytime you’re actually hoping for Lilah to walk through your door…” she looked him in the eye. “What’s wrong with you?”

"I've been given a tossing, haven't I?" He took a long drink, never unlocking gazes. "Kate left me. For the district attorney she was investigating. Apparently.. ." he scrubbed his face, "I don't measure up in the bedroom." It was ludicrous ... as a participant, he ought to know she had nothing to complain about... and yet ... clearing his throat, he decided a change of topics was in order.

"And you... what's wrong with you?"

At the mention of his sexual performance, Cordelia literally spewed her vodka, spraying Wesley’s chest with the clear liquor. “Wait,” she coughed, “Woah... rewind. Kate left you… for who and for why?”

"Probably best we not talk about it," he answered. He wouldn't have brought it up in the first place, but the liquor was doing the talking.

“Oh no way. We’re talking about it,” she nodded for him to have a few more drinks if that’s what it took. She finished her own glass and went to the kitchen for a refill as she let his explanation settle. It was true that ever since that first kiss in high school Cordy knew there would never be a love connection between her and Wes – but there was no denying the hotness that the man had become in recent years. And if Kate claimed Wesley didn’t measure up, she had to be crazy.

“Okay, so, you know that’s ridiculous, right?” she said coming back to him with a full glass that quickly became a half glass. “I mean, you know we women can be bitches when we’re hurt. We say mean things that we don’t really mean. So, what’d you do to piss her off?”

He scrubbed his unshaven face. "Nothing. The other night, I got home and she was here... waiting." Waiting... that was an understatement. The leather, the lace... "Before I got through the door, she was on me..." he shouldn't say any of this, he knew he ought not to. But he couldn't help it... it spilled out of him. "In retrospect, I suspect it had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with him. I was competing... "

Cordelia glanced over at the unmade bed and had a sudden flash of Wesley and Kate and instead of being wigged out by it, she found it a little arousing. Attributing it to the liquor, she eyed her glass and considered that she might have had enough already. But she wasn’t numb yet. So she tossed back another long swallow and smiled as the warmth enveloped her.

Refocusing, she looked back at Wes. “Competing with that DA guy? You think she was already screwing around on you…?” she tilted her head and thought back. “You guys have only been officially couply for like ten days! You really think…” Cordy frowned and considered all sexual innuendos Pike had made about Kate and decided it was entirely possible. Then there’d also been that little screw up with Faith… maybe it was payback.

"Yes... I think," he said bitterly. "It probably started off innocently enough." God knows, he'd worked out enough possible scenarios in his mind. "She went out with him, tried to questions him. He made a move... told her..." he tilted Cordelia's face toward himself and gave her an intense look. "’You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.’ He made her feel special... maybe touched her, just so..." his hands moved over Cordelia's throat, her shoulders. "He whispered in her ear..."

Cordelia swallowed, wide eyes locked on Welsey’s as he used her to illustrate his point. At least rationally she knew that’s what he was doing, but it was a little hard to be rational when she was on the receiving end of that much heated intensity. “Yeah… well… I can see how that might do the trick,” she managed in a strangled response.

Leaning closer, he whispered against her ear, slurring slightly. "’I need you. I need you so bad, I'm about to explode. Please help me... all I ask is for one night. I don't care if you have someone in your life... I want only this night.’" Moving his mouth over Cordy's cheek, much the way he'd imagined the DA had done to Kate, he took her hand and brought it to his thigh. "’Look what you've done to me... save me.’"

Cordelia’s pulse kicked up a notch and her breathing quickened as rough stubble scraped over her cheek. But when he moved her hand over his thigh, she jerked back suddenly with a sharp intake of breath. “I don’t have anyone in my—” she countered as he touched the raw nerve that was Lance. “Oh! Oh. You mean her. What he said to her. Right… right…” she took a much needed step back and swallowed the remainder her of her drink. “With that cheesy line? You think that would really work on Kate?” she let out a forced laugh to cover the fact that it had very nearly worked on her!

“More.” Cordelia shoved the empty glass to his chest to push him back further. “Clearly not numb yet.”

"Sorry," he took her glass and made a concerted effort to move away. Pouring her drink neat, he took a sip, passed it to her and went back to his own. "If it didn't work on her... then you tell me what happened."

“I don’t know,” she answered, able to breathe a little easier now that there was some distance between them. “Clearly she’s crazy. I mean… have you seen you lately?” she raked her eyes over him in exaggerated appraisal, but only half joking. There was a lot to be said for tall, dark, and dangerous.

"What? Washed up ex-watcher," he said, seriously. "I try not to dwell on it." Raising the bottle to his lips, he knocked back quite a bit. He was all for finding numbness himself.

“Yeah, ‘cause self-deprecation is sooo sexy,” she tossed back with a lazy smile. The vodka was finally starting to do the trick and she swirled it around in the glass as she sauntered away from him.

As he watched her hips sway, the word sexy wouldn't leave his mind. She was that. Lifting his bottle he drank to her.

Trying to reel in the errant thoughts, he did what any thoughtful man would. "What is it you're trying to numb yourself from? I showed you mine..."

A wry smirk crawled across her features as she turned around and fell back onto his couch. “Get this. You’ll love it…” she swirled the clear liquid and suddenly realized there was no ice. And then she decided she didn’t care and took a long swallow that filled her cheeks before sliding down her throat.

“Seems I’ve been gifted with the power of healing… but it only works on Xander Harris,” she let out a sharp bark of laughter. “The Powers that Be have a sick fucking sense of humor.”

"A gift is a gift, that one isn't bad as far as they go. Much better than the headaches you used to suffer. Although tomorrow, after this..." he made a face that told her what to expect. "What else is going on, really?" He held her gaze.

“I’ll take the headaches if it means I never have to see that look again,” she broke his gaze, seeing only Lance’s bitter disenchantment in his eyes.

"What look?" He'd never seen a pained expression like that cross her face. Of course he'd never seen her drink to forget either. With him... it was how he'd always dealt with the rough times.

This time he was the one who moved to the sofa and put his arm around her, drawing her close. "Am I going to have to kill Xander?"

“No,” the alcohol made her smile, but then she pulled away from his tender gesture. She didn’t want tenderness. “He almost took care of that himself today. He was practically dead. Then I did that glowy thing like I did when the Powers took me way back when… then *poof* he was healed.”

Turning an intense gaze on Wes, she continued, “Then there was this warlock. He was dying too. I tried…” her voice caught in his throat and suddenly she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She didn’t want to talk at all.

Lips connected, hard. Tongues clashed and she tasted whisky. With a fierce shove she pushed him back into the couch and straddled his hips. Liquid sloshed over the rim of her glass onto his neck, drizzling down his chest as she licked it off, sucking hard as she tore at his shirt with her free hand.

He couldn't claim he hadn't felt the pressure building, but he'd assumed it was only from his end. It appeared they were both at the ends of their respective tethers. Where the liquor failed to numb... this... the sensations she was creating within him, the desire that sent his blood pumping through his system, burned out the torturous thoughts and memories.

He helped her with his shirt, then struggled to take the glass from her hand without breaking the mind blowing kiss that went on and on. Raising his hips, he repositioned so when she sat down again, she made direct contact with his now raging arousal.

"Give it to me," he said, pulling it out of her hand, struggling to set it down on the coffee table with Cordelia squirming over him. The glass dropped.

"Fuck..." he broke the kiss and reached down, cursing again when he cut his hand.

She was so caught up in the mind-numbing sensations that throbbed right to her core, Cordy didn’t even realize Wes had cut himself, “Yes,” she ground over him, “Fuck… yes…”

If he hadn't felt the wet trickle along the back of his hand, he would have forgotten about the glass. "Just a moment," he rasped, as she slid against him and took his breath away. Gritting his teeth, he pulled his hand up to look.

“Just a moment?” she repeated the polite, but completely badly timed, interruption. “God Wes!” She struggled to catch her breath. “You are such a freaking British—” it was then she saw the flash of blood and stopped short, snatching up his hand and examining the nasty gash. “Ouch! Shit Wes… that’s going to need stitches…” she shifted her weight intending to get off him and go find some first aid.

"It's only a cut," he said, preventing her from leaving his lap. "I'll bandage it," he started to rip his shirt, which was already bloodied and ruined. "Unless you want to heal me so we can..." his gaze met hers. "Get on with it."

Heart thrummed wildly against her chest and thighs flexed around his hips. “Heal you…” she looked skeptically at his hand, then back to Wesley. “It needs stitches...” she paused unwilling to believe that her power only worked on Xander, she closed her eyes and concentrated. Nothing happened. “Wes… I can’t… I suck…” her words slurred together and she ground her hips against him in frustration.

He felt so good… she didn’t want to stop and think. Couldn’t think. Her head spun with dizzy drunken desire and when she opened her eyes and locked his gaze, she was suddenly reminded of their first kiss. Gasping as she felt him buck against her just as flashes of memories started playing through her mind’s eye just like they had with Xander.

“Wes…” her hips moved in an urgent grind as power coursed through her and they were both bathed in a blinding white light.

Did she have any idea what her motions were doing to him? He gripped her hip, trying to steady her... hold her in place as he pulsed up, wanting to forget about his hand. Then a warmth covered him, concentrated on his hand... and it was gone.

He blinked and closed and opened his fist. "It's healed." The shock of truth cleared some of the alcohol induced haze in his mind, but did nothing to dampen the ache between his legs and the desire to leave the world behind. "Cordelia?" he brushed a wisp of her hair away from her face, trying hard not to let his hunger show.

Shaking herself from the rush of memories as the white light winked out, Cordelia looked at his hand with a mix of astonishment and frustration. It was completely healed and the only blood that remained was where it had dripped onto the couch. But why hadn’t it worked on the warlock!

Batting his hand away from her hair, she looked at him as if he were the enemy. “It’s not fair. The Powers that Be are fucking with me!” she hissed through gritted teeth even as she continued moving her hips over his arousal, willingly surrendering her mind to the demands of her body. In a smooth motion, she pulled her shirt over her head before falling forward, pressing lace covered breasts against his bare chest as she devoured him in a savage kiss.

He looked up at her, found her eyes were as hungry for him as he was for her. He didn't know if this was right or it was wrong, but he needed it now... more than ever. Rising up, he took her mouth in a fierce kiss, moving one hand up and down from her abdomen to her breast, and jerking up against her when he felt her nipple harden under his palm.

Cordelia’s entire body hummed with a euphoric buzz that drowned out everything else. Hair tumbled down her back and she arched into him, demanding his touch. Nails dug little half moons into the back of his neck as she guided his head to her breast, sucking in a sharp breath when his teeth scraped over nipples that strained in tiny peaks against the fabric of her bra.

Oblivious to everything but her own need, she rocked against him insistently, breaths coming more ragged each time she felt his arousal pulsing through too much clothing, bumping against her slick heat.

Wrapping his mouth over her nipple, he sucked hard, instinctively focusing on creating intense sensations that would drown out the pain, his and hers. Her gasp had him repeating the motion, teasing first one nipple then the other, as he unhooked her bra.

He moved back, only to allow it to fall off her, then he supported her with one hand on the small of her back, while he stroked her breasts and bowed her back with the other, lifting his hips to meet hers.

His breaths grew shorter, harsher, mixing with her soft cries. Thick and hot, already his body was demanding to be inside her. But the words of another woman still stung him, so he fought for control, fought to prove her wrong.

Bucking against him now wasn’t enough. Visions of the darklocks and warlocks and Lance threatened to crash in on her, but she fought back with the ferocity of a warrior. Rolling sideways, her back connected with the couch and she wiggled out of her jeans, unfocused eyes demanded that he do the same.

“Condom,” the throaty growl shattered the last remnants of unwanted thoughts as Cordy kicked off her shoes, frustrated that the clothes were not peeling off fast enough. “Fuck… Wes…” she cried out in a desperate, needful plea.

Her ragged plea had him moving faster. He stared intently at her as he unbuckled his belt, and shoved his pants off together with his briefs. His cock, now free, jutted out and cried for attention. Hers.

He knew, if he were inside her, everything else would dull... there would be no pain, no anger, no hurt. Hands shaking, he fought first with his wallet, then with the tinfoil. For an instant, he expected her to put it on him with her mouth, but came back to himself.

Making short work of it, he got on his knees, then lowered himself over her, pulling her thigh up around his waist. Then he cursed... her panties were still separating them.

Sliding his hand between their bodies, he dipped his hand into her panties, stroking her a few times, before pushing them down her thighs, and using his legs and her wiggling motions to get them off.

Their gazes clashed as the moment of truth arrived. There would be no going back from this. He gripped her hip and nudged forward, waiting for her answer.

Thought did not factor into her response which came in the form of a reflexive jerk of her pelvis that forced him to plunge inside her depths. Clamping her legs around the taut muscles of his ass, her eyes fastened on his as she held him there, buried to the hilt, his cock throbbing against her core. All at once, she threw her head back and released her hold on him, willing him to take her to oblivion.

For a few heartbeats, time stopped. He was inside her, pulsating as her muscles gripped him... dragged him deeper inside her. Then she was moving, and he was moving harder, thrusting mercilessly into her, there was no past, there was no tomorrow, there was here and now... and this was it.

He put his hands under her buttocks, lifting her up to meet him each time he pounded into her, groaning when he pulled out and felt her squeeze his tip. His breath was harsher... got harsher as he concentrated on losing himself... on taking her with him. "Harder?" he asked, pleaded... though the sofa was taking a beating.

Cordy’s arms stretched over head so she could grip the arm of the sofa to anchor herself against the blissful assault. “Yesss,” her answer was lost in a frenzied moan as the firm planes of his body skated over the slick bundle of nerves nestled between her folds.

“Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.” Her command was accompanied by a tightening of every muscle as she felt herself climbing to the peak of ecstasy.

“FuckingahhhhgfffWes ss!” The orgasm slammed hard against her, crashing again and again as her whole body quaked and convulsed around him.

With every thrust, every cry, his orgasm built. His muscles strained and rippled as he gave her everything he had, everything she demanded, finally shouting out his own release as she shattered around him. Even then, he didn't stop... he fucked her, and kissed her, tasting the alcohol and himself oh her lips, making the moment last just a little bit longer as he gathered her to him.

There was no pain. Not now.

Legs entwined with his, she laughed out loud as aftershocks continued to ripple through her with varying degrees of intensity. Shuddering against them, she wrapped her arms around Wesley, shifting so they were both on their sides. Working to catch her breath, she nuzzled into him, an irrepressible smile lighting up her face. “Damn… that was…” she shook her head, looking up to meet his eyes. “Just… Damn!”

He chuckled, then rubbed his cheek against her shoulder. "Thank you. That was some mercy fuck." Lifting his face, he kissed her. "Perhaps we should have skipped the alcohol and skipped right to the..."

“You think that’s what this was?” She looked at him, her smile waning, but not completely. “I may be a giver, but I took what I needed…” she told him in no uncertain terms. “As for skipping the alcohol…” she burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. “Fuck that. I’m not even drunk yet!” she proclaimed, rolling back suddenly, miscalculating the edge of the couch and slipping onto the floor in an ungraceful, very naked heap.

Breaking out in laughter again, Cordy pulled him down on top of her, locking him in a playful kiss as she rolled him over and they both crashed into the coffee table.

He was careful to keep her from the broken glass, and happy. Was it possible? Was it relief? At this moment, he really didn't have a care in the world.

"Right, well... I'll be sure to ply you with more then..." He ran his hand over her collar bone, kissed her, and got up to pour. "But if you have a hangover... try not to yell at me until clear past noon."

“No yelling til noon. Check,” she made a little check mark motion in the air, grinning as her eyes skimmed over his tone muscles. “Just gimmie the bottle,” she waved it over, taking a swig just as she’d seen him do. “Now… come here… I’m cold…” she lay her head back on the hardwood floor and closed her eyes. “And you’re warm… hot. You’re hot…”

"Right... I encourage you to keep repeating that, while I get you into my bed." His lips quirked, as he picked her up. "Don't drop the bottle..."

Bare arsed and laughing, he walked to his room and dropped her on the bed. "You stopped... why did you stop? 'Wesley you're hot... repeat...'"

Eyes still closed and smile etched into her features, Cordelia stretched out on the bed. “Welsey… you’re hot… repeat…” she murmured, clearly on the verge of drunken slumber.

"Mmm," setting the bottle down, he got under the covers and pulled her toward him, molding his body around her. "Never let it be said a Wyndham Price doesn't share the 'hotness.'" Perhaps if he'd been less drunk, that might have made him wince.

* * * * * *

Cordelia woke slowly, wincing as she registered the painful throbbing of her head. It took her another moment to register that there was an arm around her. Turning over, she inhaled a sharp gasp at the sight of Wesley. Suddenly, it all came flooding back to her.

“Oh God! Wes!” she jerked the sheet up around her. “Oh God! We… we...” She winced as every word sounded like a shriek to her overly sensitive hung-over ears. Her eyes traveled over his partially covered form and she remembered every exquisite mind-numbing detail of their night together. “Wow… Yeah. We did.”

"It's before noon," he drawled, not yet opening his eyes. He'd been awake for at least an hour, but hadn't moved. Both to spare his head, and to think about her possible reactions to what happened. "You promised..."

“Sorry…” Yes, she remembered something about a promise, only vaguely.

Yanking the sheet off the bed, she kept it wrapped around her as she waddled out into the livingroom, plucking articles of clothing as she went. “I’ll just… get dressed…” she called to him as she disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later she emerged, fully dressed and running her fingers through disheveled hair, and looking slightly more composed.

Lifting her chin, Cordelia strode into the kitchen where Wesley, clothed from the waist down, was making coffee. “Okay, here’s the deal. It happened. And I’m not sorry it happened. But it can never happen again. And… we must never speak of this. To anybody. Ever. Okay?” She picked her bag up from the counter and slung it over her shoulder, looking at him expectantly.

"Have a coffee." He poured and brought her a mug. "I'm not sorry either. And it's a deal." Rubbing his chin, he added, "It's best we have it together... get over any awkwardness now, so to speak."

Exhaling a relieved breath, Cordelia strode over to Wesley and rocked up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the lips. “No coffee… I’ll grab Starbucks on my way home. And no awkwardness… You know I love you, right?” Her voice softened and she held his gaze, confident that he knew she meant that she loved him as one of her dearest friends. Oddly, it was the same thing she’d said to Xander just the day before when he lay dying in her arms. Strange how these things came around.

"Right... how could I ever forget that, you showed me." He dodged her playful blow and chuckled, opening the door for her. They'd chased each others' demons for the night, and remained friends. That was what was important.

With a soft laugh, she stepped through the door, tossing a meaningful look over her shoulder. “Thanks Wes… for everything.”



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