"honey! i'm home!"Rated: PG
Posted: August 5, 2000
Notes:
1) This piece is the result of reading some supposed 'spoilers' this afternoon for Angel; the Series, Season 2.
"Cordelia?”“I’m back here, Angel.” Cordelia’s voice floated through from Angel’s office. Cordelia could hear him thumping his way up the stairs.
“Hi,” he said, and leant against the door frame.
“Well? Did everything go okay? Demon dead?” Cordelia closed her magazine and sat back in Angel’s chair.
“Um...yes,” he replied, “...and ... no.”
“Half-dead? Or do you have a ‘one that got away’ story?”
“I killed the Fosor demon, but there was another...sort of demon... that is still alive.”
“Oh well, sometimes you just can’t kill them all. Is it a problem?” Cordelia stretched her arms over her head and quickly smothered a yawn.
“Could be.”
“In what way? Hey, wait a minute, I only saw one demon in my pain-o-gram!”
“Yeah - well this ...um, demon - is slightly different.”
“Alright Angel - out with it - you’ve been hedging since you came in - just take a breath and tell me.”
“You won’t yell?”
“Yell? Since when do I yell?”
“Right. The demon that I didn’t kill...I had to bring it back here...with me.”
“What? Where is it? Is it nasty? Angel!” Cordelia stood abruptly, grabbing at the thick magazine as though it could be a suitable weapon.
“It’s okay - really. Won’t be for long, I promise. Wesley is going to fix everything.”
“Where..is..it?” Cordelia demanded.
Angel didn’t reply but turned on his heel and headed for the stairwell. Cordelia followed as far as her own desk, slightly apprehensive about the un-dead visiting demon, magazine still gripped tightly in her hands. Cordelia had had to look after demons in the past with unfortunate results - Barney, in particular, brought back nightmarish memories.
Angel’s footsteps could be heard slowly mounting the stairs. He emerged with a bundle of rags held in his arms.
“So - where is the demon?” asked Cordelia suspiciously, peering over Angel’s shoulder.
“This - here,” Angel nodded at the rags.
“A mini-me demon?”
“Well - almost . A kind of ....baby .... demon.”
“Oh, no! Angel - no!” Cordelia backed away from Angel and his armful of baby. She was not going to be exploited as a babysitter.
“Cordelia...”
“No!”
“Cor...”
“I said ‘No’!” Cordelia flapped her arms in the air as though the baby were a giant fly.
Angel decided to try a direct wheedling appeal for aid, “You have to help me. I don’t know anything...”
“And neither do I! And before you start - I don’t want to hear the ‘you are a woman’ crap! I know as little about babies as you do - probably less.”
“Don’t you even want to have a look?” The straight-forward request having failed to stir Cordelia, Angel gently pushed down the cloth surrounding the baby’s head, revealing a thatch of dark hair.
“No I don’t want to look. Not falling for that one! The last time I looked at a kid that size I was conned into babysitting my cousin! Gunk all over my Dior blazer and the smell!” Cordelia edged away behind her desk. “What is it anyway - another Fosor? Watch out it doesn’t burp that yichy gassy stuff all over you.”
“The Fosor killed the baby’s mother before we arrived. This little mite may be an orphan.... all alone.” Angel peered at Cordelia’s face, hoping to crack her resolute refusal. “The mother looked to be a Perries, a passive breed - possibly the baby is half-human. Look - it’s got the cutest....”
“Don’t you dare!” Cordelia quickly looked away as Angel made another attempt to soften Cordelia with a glimpse of a baby pink button nose.
“Where did you say Wesley has gone?” she asked, concentrating on frowning at the computer screen.
“He’s following up some leads to find the baby’s family. I’m sure he’ll be here soon. You don’t have to worry about me trying to foist the baby on to you. I wouldn’t even consider doing that, Cordelia.”
“Why not? You don’t think I am capable? When did you last hold a baby, super-mom? Huh, I bet you snacked on the last rug-rat you ever got your hands on!”
“Probably.” Angel sat on the end of the desk, cradling the sleeping infant with one arm while he further loosened the rags with a quiet hand.
Cordelia caught a glimpse of the chubby pink skin and long-lashed eyes, peacefully closed, before reminding herself to be strong. This was not a good Cordelia situation. Babies and Cordelia did not socialise well. So pink! Remember the gunk on the Dior? Those lashes were so long! And half-a-demon too - just like Doyle. Poor baby. Damn Angel. Could he possibly manage to radiate more tenderness or sensitivity? All handsome broody with a vulnerable baby? Oh, and he would never have one of his own - at least, not until he shoe-shined, if ever. A minute patch of pink against the broad spanse of black.
Angel continued to sit quietly, occasionally stroking one long finger over the baby’s forehead, down the fat cheek and under the tiny dimpled chin. He shifted softly, allowing the not-quite-so-reluctant Cordelia a better view of the baby’s now exposed hands, rosy fingertips poking up out of the cloth.
Angel’s caressing finger snuggled into a palm and Cordelia watched, entranced, as the baby wrapped its little fingers around the large masculine one.
Cordelia was smiling.
“Oh for heaven’s sake - give the baby here!” She strode around the desk and stood in front of Angel.
“No, really Cordelia, I can manage. I’m just a bit peckish,” Angel stood up as he spoke, “I’ll take the baby downstairs while I...um - prepare a snack.”
“Angel! Give me the baby!” Cordelia hadn’t moved and now stood almost toe to toe with Angel, a scrap of sleeping half-humanity separating them. She glared at Angel, challenging him.
“Are you sure you can manage? I don’t know. After the way you killed your pet rabbit I....”
“I did not kill my pet rabbit!” said Cordelia, outraged, “It wasn’t my fault the gardener was mowing.... Stop it! I'll never share my inner-most childhood angst with you again! Give...me...the...baby.”
Angel sighed and gave Cordelia a long, considering look. “Alright then,” he said and eased the bundle of cloth and baby into Cordelia’s waiting arms, “...but I will be checking up on you...”
Cordelia didn’t hear the comment or see the growing smile on Angel’s face as he watched Cordelia walk off with the baby, her face lowered, voice crooning. Angel knew he should have felt at least a speck of conscience at manipulating Cordelia into minding the infant - but he didn’t. As far as Angel was concerned the whole exercise was worth Cordelia’s wrath just to see the expression now glowing on her beautiful face.
He sat once again on the desk, arms folded and leg swinging slowly, dreaming.
One day he hoped to see Cordelia gazing into the eyes of her own child.
One day.
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Disclaimer: The characters are Joss Whedon's, Mutant Enemy's and probably a heap of other people about
whom I know nothing.
I lay no claim to ownership of the characters, I simply like to ask them out to play now and then.