"So, how was the latest society soiree, Wes?" Cordelia looked up from her computer, brushing her hair back over her shoulders, revealing yet another too-tight, too-short and altogether too low-cut tanktop. Sometimes I wonder exactly why she dresses like that. "You're back a little early. The fogeymusic was bad?"
I loosened my bowtie. "The first half of the concert was quite pleasant, actually. Not up to the standards of the London Philharmonic, perhaps, but enjoyable nonetheless. However, Virginia didn't agree."
"So she made you leave? Even though you *liked* it?"
"Oh, no. She was quite insistent that I stay. But, I must say that the concert lost its charm when she departed with the, um. Parking valet." I opened my collar, and took out the first couple of studs, putting them into my tuxedo jacket.
Her eyes widened. "Oh, poor baby! She dumped you!" Her lips thinned. I could almost hear the laughter behind them.
"Oh, go on, Cordelia. It *is* amusing." I ran my hands through my hair and sat heavily on one of the lobby sofas.
"Then why aren't *you* laughing, happyboy?" She walked over and sat next to me, all giggling gone.
"Because such things cease to be amusing after the third or fourth time." I could feel my fingernails digging into my palms. "Much less the ninth or tenth."
Cordelia said something under her breath, too low for me to truly catch it but it sounded to my ears as "witch" or "rich." "Why do you go out with her if she treats you that way? I'd be like, 'so long, honey.'"
"Because it's good for the agency. We've gotten a number of excellent client because of my social activities. And...umm. When she doesn't, as you say, 'dump' me, Virginia is...well." I could feel my cheeks burn.
"TMI! TMI!" Cordelia practically ran to the other side of the lobby. "I do *not* want to hear about your sex life with that...that...rich bitch."
"Have no fear, Cordelia. I wasn't about to tell you about it." I surreptitiously pulled my cuffs over my wrists. Virginia had gotten imaginative a few days earlier. A trifle too imaginative, actually.
"Well...good. Why don't you make yourself some...some tea or something - whatever you English guys do to get over a bad relationship." She went back to her computer.
"Excellent idea." I went to fix myself a good, strong cup. As I did, I looked over my shoulder at Cordelia. "Although, it really isn't over. We have a charity gala two nights from now. That should give me just time to get this dry cleaned."
"You are *joking*." I heard her laptop slam shut. "You are letting that...that...*girl* use you, Wes. I thought you had *some* backbone."
"Well. I rather thought I was using her, actually. Since she can clearly get any man she pleases, she has no need of me. Anyway, what do *you* care, Cordelia? My personal life is my business, is it not?" I stirred milk into my tea, and turned to face her.
She rolled her eyes and tossed her hair. "Oh, the *both* of you! Try to show a little *caring*, a little *interest* in your lives, and look what it gets me. You're dating the 'ho from Hell, and Mr. Moody is still mooning over the...the other one. The one who used to get *paid* for it. You know he's only come downstairs *once* tonight? He got his blood and went back to his lair. *You* party every night. What's the good of your contacts if no one does any work but me and Gunn? Vampires and demons could be running all over LA for all you two care."
"A..angel isn't...fighting?" I frowned.
"Angel is being worse than he was when ExVampGirl was taking over his dreams." She opened her computer again.
"I...I should talk to him, shouldn't I?"
"*Somebody* should. He's sure not listening to *me*."
I nodded, and drained my cup. I didn't really want to go. I didn't want to spend time alone with Angel, but I knew that if I didn't, Cordelia would give me no peace. I climbed the stairs slowly and knocked on his door.
"Go away." His voice was dull, inflectionless. He sounded perfectly normal.
"Angel, it's me. Wesley."
"Go *away.*"
"If you don't let me in, I'll send up Cordelia."
There was silence for a moment. "The door's open."
I opened the door. "Why are your lights off..." I froze.
Angel was lying back upon his bed, wearing only his jeans. The light from the full moon, the only light in the room other than what escaped from behind me, lay on him softly, turning his pale skin to silver, except where his muscles created shadows. His face was also in shadow.
He was more beautiful than anything or anyone I had ever seen.
"What's beautiful?" Oh, God. I'd spoken out loud. I tried to breathe. I tried to form words. "Wesley? Are you all right?"
I nodded, then shook my head, then nodded again. I gave up and held my head in my hands. "Angel..."
He stood up and walked next to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. I could feel its weight. It traveled straight to my groin, which confused me even more. Angel...beautiful Angel...was a man. I dug my nails into my palms again. "What is it?" He spoke softly, but his voice echoed in my mind. I looked at him, at his haunted eyes, and realized that nothing I was feeling was new. It just took the moonlight to make me see it. I took a deep breath, and willed myself to the backbone that Cordelia thought I lacked.
"You. You're beautiful." The words stuck in my throat, but I forced them out.
His eyes widened. "What are you saying?"
I reached out to touch his face. My hand was shaking. I felt like I was moving through water. "You're beautiful." It was easier to say it the second time.
His cheek was cold. And soft. He smiled, so sadly I could feel my own eyes tear, and covered my hand with his. "You're so warm."
I tried to pull away. "I should go. This is...this is wrong."
"No. Stay. Please."
I reached behind me and closed the door. He took my hand from his face and led me into the moonlight that filled the room.
All of a sudden, the air became stifling. I could feel my shirt stick to my skin, even my lungs were on fire. I began to tear off my jacket and my shirt, fumbling with the studs and slipping out of the braces and the cummerbund. Angel stood there, watching, his eyes burning deep into me.
When I was, like him, bare to the waist, I could wait no longer. I pulled his willing body into my arms. Instead of being cool, he reflected my heat. His skin was warm. My heartbeat was loud in my ears, louder for being the only one in the room, but not loud enough to hide the thoughts that whirled in my brain.
His arms were strong and gentle around me, and his chest firm and flat and the hardness between his legs was answered by my own, and but how could that be - I was holding a man in my arms and not a woman and his broad shoulders and handsome face made it impossible for me to pretend otherwise and he leaned in and kissed me and my world fell apart and then came back together in a way that made sense for the first time and I kissed him back knowing this was how it would be from now on.
He pulled away from me then. "I'm sorry, Wesley. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be doing this."
"No! Please, don't...don't you want me?" I clutched his suddenly cold shoulders.
"I want you. I've wanted you since you came roaring up in those ridiculous leather pants." He looked me in the eyes. "I want you so much it hurts. If I could...but you know the price."
My mind began to function. His curse. I let go of him and sank onto the bed. "This stinks, you know. Five minutes ago, I was straight, and now I can't even try out my new...outlook." I forced a laugh while the world spun around me.
He sat down next to me, his eyes wide. "This was your first time? I'm your first...Oh, Wesley. You're...you're sure?"
Dreams and fantasies I'd tried not to think about came forward - Rupert Giles, in his tweedy splendor, and, God help me, those lovely boys Xander and Oz, others in my more dim past, and with them came more recent memories of boredom in Virginia's arms. I rubbed my wrists. Angel saw this and traced the fading marks with a cool finger. I shivered. "I'm sure."
He stroked my hair. "If I could, I'd show you so much. Make you so happy..." He leaned into me and kissed me again. "I'm sorry. You deserve better."
I could see him descending into another black mood. I couldn't let that happen. I looked inside myself for strength, and found it. "Don't tell me what I deserve, Angel. And don't you dare give up on *us*. We will find a way around that curse. Or find a way for you to keep your soul and still be as happy as *you* deserve. Or...I don't know. But whatever it will be, we will find it together. I love you. I'm not sure who or what I am right now, but I know that much."
He took my hand, squeezing it hard. "If you believe it that much, we will. I love you, too, and someday, I'll be able to show you how much."
From that same well of strength, I found a smile. "I'll show you right now." I drew him down to the bed and wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him softly before falling asleep with him in the moonlight.
Copyright 2000 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates