Title: Spellbound 1/8

Author: Hayley

email: [email protected]

Summary: Giles' visit to Los Angeles has unexpected consequences.

Rating: R (some nudity, some language, all the good stuff in life)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All the toys you see before you have been borrowed from the all mighty Joss.I just take
them out and play with them. *yay me* Don't sue.

Feedback: Oh pretty please? Have you hugged your author today?

Distribution: You may put it wherever you desire and I'll be thrilled about it. Just let me know where so I can send
all my friends there to check it out.

Spoilers: Most of Angel, and some of Buffy. . . .mostly it exists in my own little world.


*~*


Angel Investigations:


"Giles. . . .what brings you to our little 'neck' of the woods?" Cordelia looked up from filing. . . .her nails, curiously. Woah, this couldn't be the same stuffy librarian she'd left back in Sunnydale. Leather jacket, faded blue jeans that looked lived in and a pair of very expensive RayBan sunglasses.

"Very cute Cordelia." Giles smiled. "You're looking well."

"If you're looking for Brooding Boy he is out." She lifted a slender arm and checked the time on her watch. "But he should be calling in soon. Want to wait?"

"If it's no trouble."

"Oh no. That's why I get paid the big bucks." Cordelia flashed a large grin. "So. . .how's life on the Hellmouth? And am I trapped in this tiny little office with Giles the Librarian, Ripper the Hell's Angel or some mid-life crisis mixture of the two?"

Against his will, Giles could feel a smile cross his lips. "I believe that someone mentioned you attended sensitivity training?"

"I did. I was a star pupil. I haven't mentioned once yet that you look like one of the Village People." Cordelia responded tartly.

"Yes, well. My car passed away, and I was forced to take an alternate mode of transportation."

"Amen. And to think I was beginning to doubt the existance of a higher power. What's next Giles? A Dodge Dart? A Pinto?" She clicked a perfectly manicured nail against her teeth. "Oh! I know! A Yugo!"

"Are you quite through?"

Cordelia pursed her lips and cocked her head to one side. "Umm. . .yeah. I think for now I'm done."

"Good. How is your acting career going?"

"It's not." Cordelia bit her lip, and brightly added. "Yet. Saving the world makes it hard to study lines."

"I understand completely." Giles began to pace the small office. "And Angel?"

Cordelia reclined in her chair and propped her feet up on the desk. "Once more with feeling."

"What do you mean?" Giles paused in his restless prowling.

"Try asking that question again, only this time try and convince me that you care how Angel is doing." She held up a slender hand to stop the oh so feeble protest from passing his lips. "Never mind. I'll try this 'tact' thing once more for your sake. Angel is fine. He's miserable, and burdened, and wakes up screaming. There's a lot of that that goes on around the office. But he copes. I cope and everything is peachy keen."

"Contrary to your opinion Cordelia I do happen to care how Angel is. And in spite of your manners, I care how you are." Giles' expression was a deep scowl.

"Look, I've got a cell phone, why don't you let me take you out to dinner on the company dime and wait for Angel to check in?" Struck by how dingy, and empty the office was, Cordelia didn't want Giles focusing on how sad her life really was. It was just too pathetic even for her to take right now. She needed noise, and laughter, and to not be surrounded with unpleasentness.

Rising to her feet, she reached for her coat. "Come on Watcher man. I've got just the place."

Giles could feel the tension radiating from Cordelia as they stepped into the lift.

They were silent the entire way to the small pub set at the back of an alley. As soon as they walked through the doors, Giles noticed a perceptible change in Cordelia. She seemed to release the breath she'd been holding since he arrived.

It was nothing more than a steel door on the outside, but inside it was a warm, friendly pub with a surprisingly large layout. The bar itself ran in a graceful curve that must have extended 30'. At the far end of the pub were dart boards and a few card tables.

"Why if it isn't our 'Delia!" A round faced man in his early sixties motioned her and Giles over to the bar where he was busy wiping glasses. "And look Delores. She's brought a gentleman friend with her." He teased.

Giles gaped as the normally unflappable Cordelia Chase flushed to the roots of her mahogany hair.

"Stop it Paddy!" Cordelia demanded. "Behave yourself. Rupert Giles, this is Paddy. Paddy this is Giles. He's- a friend of mine from Sunnydale."

"Pleased to meet you young man. Any friend of Delia's is a friend of ours. Now Delia, you and your friend take a seat. What can I get you to drink?"

"A pint of Guiness." Giles replied. The pub felt like the ones he spent a lot of his missprent youth in.

"Will do. Go on you kids."

"This way." Cordelia showed him to a spacious booth in the back of the rather crowded pub. "You can close your mouth now Giles. You're gaping."

"Sorry." Giles quickly shut his mouth. "But I never imagined. . . ."

"The Queen C hanging out in a pub long enough for everyone to know her name? Don't worry, I'm not turning into an alcholic. This place was. . .it was really important to Doyle. When he died, I just. . .I realized that I didn't know as much about him as I wanted to, so I found this place."

Giles impulsively placed one of his hands over hers. "I understand."

Cordelia tossed her hair over her shoulder. "It feels good here."

Giles watched as the former cheerleader's protective armor began to peel away the longer they were in the pub. It was really quite amazing to watch. Her eyes sparkled, she gestured more with her hands, in short she came alive.

He felt himself beginning to relax and enjoy himself as well. Cordelia was the consummate storyteller, and not adverse to turning her sharp wit on herself when the occassion called for it.

"So there I am in this *horrendous* Gone with the Wind reject costume trying to keep a straight face while this old guy is trying to convince me that 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof' is done entirely in the nude!"

Giles' smile transformed into a scowl. "What kind of degenerate. . . ."

"They don't like to be called degenerates anymore Giles. They prefer 'morally incapacitated' or here in L.A we call them 'casting agents'."

"I trust that Angel dispatched of him?"

"Angel? It's not like the guy was a vamp or anything." Cordelia shrugged.

"Perhaps not, but still you should be taken care-"

"No. I shouldn't." Cordelia broke in emphatically. "That's why I'm here in L.A. To take care of myself. And I can't do that if I go running to my boss to go beat up every casting director that hits on me."

"I understand your desire for independance Cordelia. It's admirable and I believe in many ways it will serve you well. . . ."

"I can hear the 'but'." Cordelia toyed with the coaster under her club soda.

"But you are very young and beautiful. I don't like the idea of you having to deal with filth like that on your own." He watched as she shook her head.

"Sorry Giles, but you have your Hellmouth, I've got mine."


hr


Cordelia's Apartment

"Thank you for the ride." Cordelia climbed off the back of Giles' motorcycle gracefully and removed the helmet, fingering the knots out of her hair. "That was fun! I've never ridden on a motorcycle before."

"You seemed to take to it very naturally." Giles remarked removing his own helmet.

"The hardest part is leaning into those turns. I thought for sure we were going to scrape gravel going around that off ramp."

"Hence the popularity of leather." Giles eyed her rather short spandex skirt, amazed she'd had the audacity to straddle his bike like that.

Cordelia looked up at her window and laughed and waved. "Yes Dennis! I'm home." Turning back to Giles, she smiled. "My roomate likes to make sure I get home in one piece."

"I didn't know you were living with anyone. . ."

"Dennis lived there before me." Cordelia explained. "He's a ghost."

Shocked, Giles stammered slightly. "You-you live with a ghost?!"

"A very sweet ghost. I mean once you get over the whole his mother tried to kill me thing, and the fact that she bricked him up in the wall to punish him. . ."

"Remarkable."

"Now that's the Giles I remember!" Cordelia exclaimed. "Why don't you come in and meet him? Unless you're in a hurry to get to your hotel. . . "

"Of course." Giles wondered at what point he'd entered the twilight zone.

Reaching her apartment door, Cordelia frowned. "The door's open. Dennis never leaves the door open." She whispered. "Ever."

Before she could move forward to investigate, Giles' arm caught her around the waist and moved her protectively behind him.

Seeing Angel sprawled on the couch, Giles was nearly trampled by Cordelia.

"Angel! What happened to you?"

"The case I was on. I ended up not to far from here. Saved the girl from her vampire boyfriend, I had to stake him and she decided it was *my* fault her boyfriend was dust and she stabbed me."

"And where was Wesley?" Cordelia stripped out of her coat and reached under the sofa for the first aid kit.

"It was a small job. I didn't want to bother. . ." Angel's words were cut off in a pained hiss as Cordelia ripped his shirt away from the stab wound in his side and dabbed peroxide on the wound. "DAMN! That HURTS!"

"What part of back up don't you understand Angel?" Cordelia snapped. "Sometimes you are so stupid I'm amazed that you managed to live this long. But I'll tell you something Mr. Superman wanna-be. Next time you want to get your ass STABBED don't come in to my apartment and bleed on my couch! I am not Florence Nightengale and I am NOT amused. And-" She gave his skin as extra harsh swipe with the peroxide. "You missed check in."

Giles gasped as Angel slipped into game face, only to hear Cordelia laugh at him.

"Oh please Angel. That doesn't scare me. If you want to give yourself wrinkles, that's your problem. There." She sat back on her heels. "All done. Now quit being a baby and get out."

Angel opened one eye and finally noticed Giles. "Hello Giles. Good to see you."

"Angel. You've looked better."

"I've felt better." Angel took Cordelia's hand as she pulled away. "I'm sorry for coming here, but I was feeling dizzy."

"Good. I hope you're sick." Cordelia's words came out in a bitter rush. "GOD! You are so stupid! How many times Angel? How many times are you going to have to get stabbed, or shot, or worse before you realize you're wasting your time? Before you figure out that one day you're not going to get lucky. You've got a chance to make a real difference. But it doesn't do anyone any good if you get staked for nothing."

"Cordy-" Angel began.

"NO! Just-" Shaking Cordelia sighed. "Just stop. I know life doesn't mean anything to you. I know that you don't think a damn thing matters if you can't be with Buffy. And I know that you're just selfish enough to think that your dying wouldn't mean ANYTHING to anyone. I can accept that. But what I can't accept is the way you're RISKING your life stupidly." Feeling herself on the verge of tears, Cordelia threw her hands up in the air.

"What's the USE?" She turned to Giles. "Thank you for tonight. . .and the ride home. And for still being Giles and not a man in a mid-life crisis. I've got to get some sleep. If I stay up I'll stake him myself, and I'll never get the dust out of the carpet."

Her bedroom door shut with a resounding *slam*

"I don't get her." Angel grumbled sitting up.

"No. I don't suppose you do. I believe she's angry that you are risking your life unescessarily while her friend Doyle died for something worthwhile." Giles looked down at the vampire. "You on the other hand just seem to have a death wish."

"Is there a particular reason you're here Giles? Or is this just a social call?"

"I recently aquired a book that had some information that I thought you might find useful. And I wanted to see Cordelia, and how she's coping." Glancing at the closed bedroom door, Giles added, "Apparently not well."

"She's had a lot to deal with." Angel eased himself up off the couch. "Doyle's death affected both of us, but Cordelia has to deal with his visions, they nearly killed Doyle, and they're just as hard on Cordy."

"I can see that." Before Giles could say more the T.V flicked on, and switched through many of the channels. "What's that?"

"One of Dennis' favorite ways to communicate." Angel replied, never taking his eyes off the screen.

Finally the image came to rest on a scene from a Spanish soap opera where a slender dark haired girl lay face down on her bed sobbing.

"Cordelia?" Giles rested his cheek against the door. "Cordelia? I know you're awake. May I come in?"

"No."

Forgetting his manners, Giles turned the knob and pushed open the door. He approached the bed, and used his hands on Cordelia's shoulders to haul her off the bed and into his arms. He didn't waste time with any soothing words, or cliches. Her pain was too raw for that. The storms he felt inside of her would never be calmed with a 'There there. It's going to be all right." She knew too much about the harsh injustices of the world to ever believe it anyway.

So instead he simply held her until there were no more tears left.

Slowly she began to pull the pieces of her armor back together. Pushing off his chest, Cordelia swiped at her eyes. "Sorry."

"Absolutely nothing to apologize for Cordelia."

"Sure there is. I mean as far as I know this is the only non-tweed article of clothing you own." She ran her fingers over the tear stains on his shirt. "And I ruined it."

Giles' hand came up to touch her face. "It's really for the best. I tend to get hives if I wear anything other than tweed."

"If you won't let me apologize for looking stupid, then let me say thank you."

"You're not as alone in this world as you seem to think Cordelia. You do have a family in Sunnydale." Giles smiled at the shock and blatant disbelief written on her face.

"It's the truth. Not a week goes by when someone isn't convinced they've seen you on some television show or another. Xander still gets nostalgic when he passes a utility closet. Willow worries whether or not you've got enough to eat, hence the care packages." He lowered his voice to a conspiriatorial whisper. "And Buffy has been known to take your name in vain."

"She wouldn't *dare*." Cordelia could feel some of the emptiness ebb.

"I'm afraid so. So you see there are a great many people who consider you a part of their lives, no matter where you are."

"Gosh Giles. You're better than a Hallmark for those warm fuzzies."

Cupping his hand at the back of her head, Giles placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You'll do." He was surprised to feel Cordelia's small hand catch his wrist.

It was so long since anyone had kissed her without pain. There was the demon that she'd slept with who impregnated her, and nearly drove her insane. And Doyle who'd used his last kiss to pass on his legacy of the visions that ripped apart her brain. Giles wouldn't hurt her, and just one time she'd like to feel safe.

Tucking her leg beneath her, Cordelia leaned forward, keeping a hold of Giles' wrist and brushed her lips against his firm, startled mouth.

"Cordelia. . . ." Giles felt as though he'd been struck by lightening, or magic. With nothing more than a touch of her hand on his wrist, and the feel of her lips whispering over his mouth, Cordelia Chase held him enthralled.

Almost as soon as it began, it ended.

Giles pulled back slowly, still cupping her face in his hands. "I think it would be best if I go now."

"Probably." Cordelia sighed. "Thank you for that. I think I'll have pleasent dreams tonight after all."

"I'm going to be staying in Los Angeles for the next two days seeing a bookseller." He named his hotel. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

"I won't. Now you'd better get Mr. Bad Hair Day home. I hate dusting."


hr


Angel was silent all the way back to his apartment.

"Can I offer you a drink?" He asked dropping his jacket on the nearest chair.

The apartment was small, cramped, and windowless. Very much, Giles mused like a coffin might be.

Giles set the book he'd brought from Sunnydale on the table. "It's very similar to the one I have, and recently fell into my lap. It occured to me that you, Wesley and Cordelia could put it to good use."

"I'd like to thank you for your help with Cordelia. I don't know what to say to her most of the time." Angel responded.

"Cordelia is strong, and remarkably resiliant for one so young, but Angel she is still a girl. Still in need of some sort of protection. From what I can tell you're more interested in the lives you save than you are in the girl that works for you. Recklessness with your own life is ridiculous, but risking Cordelia's life and happiness is unconscionable."

Giles knew he'd stepped over the line and tensed when Angel stepped forward, closing in on him with his fists clenched.

Much to Giles' surprise, Angel merely lifted his hand and brushed it over Giles' lips, pulling it back to reveal to soft pink of Cordelia's lipstick.

"Not really your shade is it Rupert?"

Completely deflated by the soft question, Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them. "Bloody hell."

"Change your mind about that drink?"

"No. In fact I think I'll have several. But I prefer to do it in private."


hr


Hotel Bar

"Bourbon. Neat." Giles removed his leather jacket and sat at the far corner of the bar. Bloody hell. All he'd wanted was a chance to get out of Sunnydale for a couple of days. Take his new bike for a road trip. Deliver a book to Angel. And pick up a few magik books for himself. Was that too much to ask?

Nowhere in his plans did he expect to be kissed by Cordelia Chase. The former Queen of Sunnydale. As long as he'd known her, Cordelia was an enigma. Part woman-child. Part warrior.

She'd never really fit in with the rest of the children. And at times he suspected that she didn't want to. She watched, and even participated under duress, but at all times with an inscrutible sense of self. A center that he didn't think any of the others understood.

Her wit was painful, as her razor sharp tongue. Cordelia didn't need a stake to impale someone, her unflinching honesty was enough to spear someone's heart.

But there was also a vulnerability in her. Something usually seen only in the eyes when she thought no one was looking. He'd seen it when she'd been in the hospital after her accident.

{Flashback}

"Daddy? I'm glad you called." Cordelia toyed with the edge of her hospital blanket. "There was an accident. I fell and hurt myself. It was pretty awful . ."

Giles stood just outside the doorway, not knowing how long the conversation would take.

"No no no. Your lawyer said that the bill is all taken care of . . .it's just. Can you or Mom come home? Or I know! When I get out can I come and join you? Please?" Silence. "Oh. Okay. No Daddy. I'm not upset."

Giles watched a single tear roll down her cheek.

"Tell Mom I love her k'? Bye Dad-" Cordelia sighed and returned the phone to the cradle.

{End Flashback}

"Drinking alone? Tsk tsk tsk Ripper. That's not very sociable of you."

"Ethan." Giles buried his head in his hand. "I don't suppose that you'll just go away and leave me the bloody hell alone?"

The question was asked with so much hopefulness, Ethan *almost* considered it. "Sorry old chap. I think I'll stay where I am."

"Good." Giles tossed down the last of his drink, told the bartender to put the bottle of bourbon on his room bill, grabbed his jacket and stalked off.

A small smile played about Ethan's lips. "Excuse me, bartender. . . . . "

Giles' Room

"Knock knock." Ethan pushed open the door to Giles' room, and stepped inside with a bottle of his own.

"Ethan, I realize that you have never been the most brilliant pillock in the world, but I do ocassionally suspect that beneath your ignorant veneer you are capable of understanding simple, and I do mean simple English. GO AWAY."

"Ripper. You're not still sulking because of that whole 'demon' incident are you?" Ethan flopped down on the spare bed, and propped his head on his hands. "I mean you don't see me holding a grudge because you let me be carted away by those irritating commandos and probed in a most ungentlemanly manner."

"Don't tell me they didn't buy you dinner first! Ethan. I'm tired, cranky and about to get exceedingly drunk. Once I do, there's a very good chance that I will toss you out the window. Do you really want to be here for that?"

"I'm willing to risk it if you will." Ethan smiled, lifting his bottle in mock salute. "To days gone by."