"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."
 

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."
 

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."
 

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."

* * * * *

"How in the name of the Gods did I let you talk me into this?" Giles scowled at Ethan.

"Because you were drunk, bored, and you lost at poker." Ehtan replied smoothly. "And I couldn't let you come to my new home away from home without letting you experience the splendor that is my new way of life."

"Good God Ethan. You're a movie producer. I hardly think that's a way of life worth experiencing." Giles rolled his eyes.

"Play nice." Ethan admonished. "Come on old friend. I've got a huge mansion, truckloads of money, and a house full of beautiful women looking to be made into the next Meryl Streep. If those aren't enough reasons to celebrate, then I don't know what is!" Ethan gestured to the party that was in full swing.

"You're a degenerate." Giles silently had to admit that degenerate or no, Ethan Ryane certainly had taste. The house was a sprawling mansion filled with beautiful people making boring, polite, nonsensical, malicious chit-chat. And as soon as Ethan turned his bloody head he was going to grab a bottle of champagne and remove himself from the premises.

"But I am a hospitable degenerate." Ethan gestured expansively. "You Ripper my boy, may have your pick. I'd wager you haven't gotten any in Sunnydale in recent memory. Abstinence always made you cranky Ripper."

"Which part of 'Don't call me that you slow witted ass' don't you seem to grasp?" Out of the corner of his eye Giles caught sight of a lovely pair of long legs encased in silk stockings. In sharp contrast to the other girls who seemed to be locked in silent combat to see who could reveal the most flesh, her soft skirt fell just past her knees. The skirt was a rainbow in various shades of blue with matching high heels.

She was in the middle of a group of other young women, but she stood out because of her modest dress. He had to hand it to her. She knew how to market herself. To show less, and make the drooling producers and casting cretins want more.

He didn't know what made him accept an invitation to one of Ethan's debauches, except for a case of what the French would surely call 'ennui'. It certainly had a nicer ring to it than being bored out of his skull.

He *was* away from home. And he *was* surrounded by beautiful women. He would have to be some kind of simpleton not to take advantage of some of the *amenities* Ethan was offering.

The woman he'd been watching with such avid interest tilted her head and laughed, revealing her face from behind the cascade of dark hair.

"Cordelia."

"You do know her don't you?" Ethan's eyebrow shot up. "She is a delicious little morsel Ripper." The two men watched as Cordelia was ushered away from the rest of the group by a man in his late 60's. "Looks like I'm not the only one who thinks so . . ."

"A man would have to be dead not to want. . . ." Before the words were out of his mouth, Giles checked himself, and then the slightly smug expression on Ethan's face. His own thoughts shocked Giles so much that he looked down to his second glass of champagne.

"*BASTARD!*" His fingers clutched the delicate stem of the crystal flute so tightly that it snapped like a dry twig. "What kind of spell?"

"A small get to know you incantation." Ethan grinned. "It's a lot more fun as an icebreaker than say, charades." He could feel the outrage and indignation rolling off his old friend in waves. "Come on old boy. Let Ripper out to play. If you don't you're going to crack up."

"Damn it Ethan you're mixing powerful sex magic with expensive champagne and girls barely out of the school room!" Giles hissed.

"Nothing here smacks of coercion Giles. It's not very powerful magic. It only loosens inhibitions. A kinder, gentler version of the band candy incident."

"That incident regressed the entire adult population to teenagers. If you regress any of these actresses you'll be dating pre-schoolers!"

"Well then. I had best go brush up on playing 'Doctor'." Ethan smirked showing all of his teeth in a predatory smile. "Oh, and Ripper. I wouldn't reccomend leaving the party until it's over. My friends would take a dim view of it."

"I'm sure of it." Giles gritted out before following in the direction Cordelia and her 'admirer' had gone.
 

He found her alone in the garden inspecting a rose bush intently. "Cordelia."

"Giles! What are you doing here?" Cordelia demanded before whacking him with the back of her hand on his chest. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Is this what happens to old watchers? You get frisky with teenage girls?"

Flushing under her verbal assault, Giles found himself inexpliably on the defense. "I am not getting frisky."

"They make a pill for that." Cordelia retorted.

"Ethan Rayne invited me to his home. I had no idea that he was using the mansion as the site for a Roman orgy with barely legal would be actresses."

"Ethan Rayne?" Cordelia frowned. "Every time he shows up something awful happens!"

Giles removed the glass of champagne from her fingertips. "You don't have to tell me Cordelia. The last time I saw Ethan he turned me into a rather horrible demon."

Cordelia seated herself on the edge of the goldfish pond. "Then why are you here?"

"Because, try to extricate myself from him as I might, Ethan and I go a long way back. I know that I will never be bored in his presence." Giles sighed and set aside the glass. "Boredom has been a problem for me lately. I don't suppose you can relate."

"To what? Empty nest syndrome?" Cordelia laughed. "You're not the only one." At Giles' surprised expression, she shrugged. "When I was in Sunnydale there was a group. And whether we all liked each other, or hated each other, we were together." She toyed with the drawstring on her skirt. "It must be worse for you. . . .I mean for so long you had all of us practically camped out on your doorstep . . .and now we're not."

"Has anyone ever told you Miss Chase that you are a good deal too perceptive?"

"Only Wesley and Angel when-" Cordelia clamped her hand over her mouth. "Anyway. . . .I think you're looking at this whole empty nest thing wrong. You should be going out and meeting women and making up for lost time while you still have time left to enjoy them!"

"Cordelia. . . ."

"I know, I know, I wouldn't recognize tact if it bit me on the backside." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Tact is overrated."

"How would you know if you've never tried it?"

"All the tactful people I know never have any fun." She declared staunchly. "So what sort of voo doo that he do do so well is Ethan up to?"

"Very poetic. And honestly I don't know."

Cordelia reached into her small hand bag and pulled out a cell phone. "Then I'll just give Angel a little ring and let him know that something's up."

"Splendid idea."

"I'm known for them."

"And your modesty as well I imagine."

Cordelia responded by eloquently sticking out her tongue. "Angel! Hey It's me! Guess what? The party I cut out of work early for? It's being thrown by Ethan Rayne, no no no no no. I'm fine. I've got a big strong Watcher here to point out the painfully obvious. Yes, Giles. How many other Watchers do you know with a firm grasp of the obvious do you know. . .oh, good point. Tell Wesley I said hi!"

Plucking the phone from Cordelia's hand, Giles spoke to Angel. "Ethan had got some powerful magic going on here Angel, I've counted at least five of the most powerful sorcerers in the country so far."

"Hello there Miss Chase. I trust you're enjoying yourself?" Ethan emerged from behind a rose bush.

"Not really. Cheap champagne and dry horsdouvers don't do much for me." Cordelia responded frostily. "In fact, Giles and I were just leaving."

"Oh, I'm afraid we can't have that. Ripper has a tendancy to want to spoil my fun. . . ."

"Ethan, you are really beginning to piss me off." Giles snarled as a heft guard pulled Cordelia's cell phone out of his hand.

"You know my dear. . .you really should consider keeping more civilized company." Ethan remarked to Cordelia.

"Like you? No thanks. I'd rather find myself a nice whino on the street." Cordelia answered sharply as Ethan and his thugs escorted them through the garden and into the mansion. "I mean does anyone ever buy this smarmy act of yours? You're about as charming as a snake, and just as warm. By the way you owe me for the cell phone!"

"Oh Ripper. I approve of this one. She's adorable."

"She's also more likely to kick your ass than your friend." Cordelia dug in her heels dragging Ethan to a halt. "Take your hand off me."
 

Guest House

"I can't believe this!"

"He might have been more willing to be reasonable had you not kneed him so visciously." Giles supressed his smile at the memory of Ethan's anguished moan.

"He felt me up." Cordelia huffed, perching on the edge of the bed. They'd been locked in the small guest house for, as Ethan called it, 'safekeeping'. "You know Giles, I hate to sound rude, but in the future do you think you could take your vacations someplace other than Los Angeles?"

"For someone who claims to hate sounding rude, you do a lovely job of it Cordelia." Giles returned. "Perhaps you might reconsider attending parties thrown by people you don't know where you are on the menu for salivating old men."

"Present company included?"

Giles clenched his teeth, determined to put an end to the verbal sparring before he strangled the girl with her own tongue.

Instead of continuing the pointless argument Cordelia paced the small guest house looking for a way out. "I don't know how I can get myself into these stupid situations! Why does everything lousy have to happen to me? Is there some sort of law that says I've got to have bad things happen to me?"

Listening to the continuing monologue Giles rolled his eyes. "Oh yes. Because this isn't inconvenient for anyone but you."

"I never said that." Cordelia turned on him suddenly very serious. "But I can only whine for myself. If *you* want to whine you're just going to have to do it yourself."

"Very well then." Giles reached for one of the books on the night table and groaned when he read the title. Trust Ethan to leave copies of the Kama Sutra in the guest rooms. A degenerate from beginning to end.

Finally having exhausted most of her excess energy Cordelia flopped down on the bed gracefully propping her chin on her hands. "So what do we do now oh Mighty Watcher?"

"Wait. And attempt not to get on one another's nerves." Giles suggested.

"I'm not good at waiting."

"If it makes you feel better I could break down the door and get shot for my trouble. . . ."

"Oh would you? I love blood. You really lack people skills, maybe you've had too much time in High School libraries."
 

Listening to the incessent bickering in the guesthouse, Ethan chuckled, and picked up the telephone next to his favorite chair. "Hello? Yes. Things have been set in motion. Oh no. I don't forsee any problems." He shook his head. "The spell will begin to take effect soon, and they are confined to small quarters."

Ethan silently patted himself on the back for leaving the copy of the Kama Sutra. Given the boring style of life that Rupert was becoming used to, he would probably be appreciative of the refresher course.

Glancing at the television monitor and seeing his old friend's expression Ethan shrugged. Or not.
 

"Ooh! Here we go!" Cordelia emerged from one corner of the room with an ornately carved chess set. "Do you play?"

"Yes." Giles hefted one of the pieces. Ethan Rayne had a great many failings, but taste was not one of them. "Do you?"

"Well duh. . . . .otherwise why would I ask you? Devon taught me when we were going together. . ."

"That young man who sings for Oz's band?"

"The one and only. Devon's a lot smarter than he lets on. Anyway, Dev taught me, and Angel and Wesley are both excellent chess players. Angel beat me so many times that I just got angry and now he still beats me, but I make him work for it."

"And here I thought that you were busy saving the world."

"Yeah, well I like to break up the monotony in Angel's life. At least this way he can rotate brooding with chess playing." Cordelia shrugged one shoulder and made her opening move.

"You worry about him a great deal." Giles commented. "I dare say that Angel is capable of caring for himself."

Cordelia frowned. "I understand that you hate him Giles, but since I've been in L.A Angel has been my family. The only reason he gave me a job in the first place was because he knew I was broke and hungry. Not in the 'I'm feeling hungry' way either. More like the 'Gee! I hope that I can get enough at the pawnshop for this little bracelet so I can eat tonight' hungry." She watched as Giles' hand hovered over the board. "And now we're friends and he looks out for me."

"That's all well and good Cordelia. . . .but don't place too much faith in him. Angel's loyalty is a fickle thing."

Face flushed with anger, Cordelia glared at him. "Just shut up and move already." She muttered grimly.
 

"Ripper. . . .Ripper. . . . alone in a decadent love nest with a beautiful and intelligent young woman and you want to play chess?" Ethan waved his hand towards the monitor. "You're hopeless."
 

By the time Giles had Cordelia in checkmate, he was forced to admit that she was indeed a worthy opponent. Especially when she was angered. "Another game?"

"No thank you, I try and limit myself to one loss a day." Cordelia answered stiffly before rising to her feet and putting away the chess board. "Is it just me, or is it getting warmer in here?" She'd kicked off her shoes when they'd begun to play, and Giles loosened two buttons on his shirt. Her face felt flushed. Almost feverish. "I can't be getting sick! I've got an audition next week!"

"It's not just you. I feel it too." Giles replied reassuringly. In fact he was feeling something more than just the heat of the room. He was concerned that Cordelia would be able to hear the loud pounding of his heart, or the increase in his breathing.

Walking to the bathroom on unsteady legs, Giles turned on the sink and ran the water until it was ice cold. Reaching into the cabinet next to the sink he retrieved two wash cloths, dousing them with water. After ringing them out, Giles emerged from the bathroom and crossed to the bed where Cordelia lay looking like hot and uncomfortable.

Cordelia jumped at the feel of the cool cloth against her brow, and the rough texture as it traveled down over her forehead, slightly dampening the hairs right along her hair line, offering sweet comfort.

Giles' breath caught in his throat as small goosebumps appeared on her arms, and her entire body shivered. "Good?"

"Oohh, perfect!" Cordelia's arm lifted and her fingers settled over Giles' hand to guide the washcloth over her face, down her throat, and just between her breasts. Eyes still closed, Cordelia protested when his hand moved away from her skin. "Don't stop."

Closing his eyes, Giles groaned, his body having a disgustingly predictable reaction to hearing a throaty voice call out those words. He had a very good idea what was happening to them. "Ethan."

"Excuse me?" Cordelia rolled onto her side, and found Giles' face inches away from her own.

"I think that Ethan put a spell on us."

"Oh." Cordelia frowned, and remembering their kiss from the night before, she slid her hand around the back of his neck, and pulled his head closer. "Then that might explain why I want to do this so badly." She whispered before pressing her full lips against his.

Pulling away slightly, Giles shook his head. "Cordelia. This is just Ethan's magic. . ."

"So?"

The word was spoken quietly, but echoed in the room with the force of a gunshot. Giles shook her slightly. "I am not going to take advantage of you."

"Who says that I'm not trying to take advantage of you?" Cordelia lifted her hands and began to unbutton his shirt. "What if I want you?"

"It's the spell Cordelia. Nothing more." Giles caught her busy fingers as they unfastened the last button. "Under normal circumstances you would never. . . ."

"What? Find you attractive? Sexy?" Cordelia laughed softly. "Then what was my excuse last night? I never had you pegged for low self-esteem Mr. Giles." She tugged her hands out of his grip and stripped off her peasent style blouse.

Confronted with her almost bare torso, Giles groaned and began to lose track of all coherent thought. Her skin had the color and consistancy of cream, the heavy swell of her breasts contained in a sky blue lace bra. The only imperfection being a jagged, bright pink scar starting just below her breasts and extending halfway down her stomach.

"Go ahead. Tell me you don't want me." Cordelia demanded. "But you really should look me in the eyes when you do."

"What I want is irrelavent." Giles reluctantly turned away from her and began to refasten the buttons of his shirt. The last thing he'd imagined in planning this trip was being locked up by Ethan with a lovely half naked Cordelia.

His entire body stiffened at the feel of warm, soft breasts mounded against his back as Cordelia draped her arms over his shoulders. "Cordelia."

"Why are you making this so hard?" Cordelia pouted. "I want you. Is it so unbelievable that I might want someone intelligent, someone strong, someone who won't hurt me, someone that I'd trust with my life?"

Giles shuddered at her warm breath brushed over his earlobe, and one hand slipped inside his shirt to caress his chest. "Your trust is why I can't."

"I'm trusting you to be with me. I'm trusting you to want me as much as I want you. I'm trusting you to show me what sex can be like with someone who actually gives a damn about me." Cordelia planted persuasive kisses up his neck.

Driven to distraction, Giles turned and quickly pinned Cordelia beneath him on the bed. His body held down her slighter frame as they lay chest to chest in the warm candlelit glow.

Pinning both Cordelia's hands over her head, Giles drew in a deep breath surrendering to the magic swirling inside of him, and quickly released it as one of Cordelia's legs bent, fitting him neatly between her thighs. And then she spoke the words that very nearly undid him.

"Rupert, please." Her voice was low, sultry and oh so inviting. Cordelia lifted her head off the pillows as far as possible, exposing the entire length of her graceful, swan-like throat.

With a deep groan, Giles lowered his mouth and covered her parted lips.

It was perfection. Cordelia nibbled softly and captured his lower lip between her teeth before stroking her tongue over the small wound. She loved the taste of him, warm, dark, faintly bitter like whiskey mixed with champange.

When they finally parted for air Cordelia shivered. "I've never gone hot all over from a kiss before. . . ." Her voice was seductive.

When his eyes flashed, Cordelia was certain she'd said something wrong, and that he would leave her alone and unfulfilled.

Instead Giles bent eagerly to her lips and slid one muscular arm under her back and released her hands, gathering her close to him. His mouth brushed, caressed and lifted as he teased her with ruthless precision.

When her lips followed and began to cling to his, Giles brushed her hair back from her face. "What do you want?"

"Kiss me." She demanded. No matter how strong the desire was, she wasn't going to beg.

"Isn't that what I'm doing?" He ran just the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip.

Cordelia caught her fingers in Giles' hair and forced him to stay still as she plundered his mouth with all the barely contained desire she had.

Feeling the flames lick hotter and higher against his control, Giles' hands cupped Cordelia's face, pulling her back so hi could watch her. Her beautiful hazel eyes were dark with a combination of lust and magic, her lips swollen and parted with the force of his kisses, and a bright pink flush stole over her skin from her cheeks to her chest.

Tugging his shirt out of his pants, Cordelia arched her body so that her breasts brushed back anf forth against Giles' thick chest hair.

His large body shivered with arousal under her desperate assault. Giles' lips began to soft exploration of every plane of her lovely face, down her throat, offering a small nip at her wildly throbbing pulse, to lick delicately at her collarbone.

Cordelia's fingers twined in his hair, tugging slightly. She wanted to feel his mouth on her aching breasts. There was something burning inside of her, and she didn't care if Ethan Rayne *did* light the match as long as Rupert was the one to put it out.

Giles' lips and nose nuzzled against the full curve of Cordelia's breasts. First one and then the other until her grip in his hair tightened demandingly. A small smile crossed his lips as he heard the change in her breathing.

Her body was a feast of colors, tastes, textures and scents. Her hair carried the scent of roses after a spring rain, heady, exotic, and enticing beyond his wildest imaginings. Her mouth cool from the champagne and sweet from strawberries. And the skin of her breasts tasted like. . . "Honey?"

Cordelia's laughter when it came was husky. "It's a natural dusting powder." A small sound of protest worked its way out of her throat when Giles continued to avoid the tight peaks of her breasts. "Giles! Stop teasing!"

A soft chuckle was his response. "I'm not teasing. Let me do this Cordelia. You should want this, need it, crave it more than anything. . . ."

After endless minutes, when she was shivering from head to toe, straining against his lips. "I won't beg you you bastard." Cordelia hissed passionately, her anger replaced by shocking satisfaction as Giles' mouth finally settled over one tight nipple, sucking it deeply into his mouth. "Giles!"

Slowly he pulled back, a feral grin playing about his lips. "Gods Cordelia. . . "

Before she could form a coherent reply there was banging on the guesthouse door. "Cordelia? Are you in there?"

"Wesley!" Groaning, Cordelia buried her face in her hands. Of all the timing in all the world, Wesley Wyndham-Price had to have the worst.

Giles quickly helped her into her blouse, before buttoning his own shirt. "We're in here Wesley!"

By the time Angel broke through the door, Cordelia and Giles were on opposite sides of the room, studiously ignoring one another.

* * * * *

Angel Investigations:

Cordelia continued to pace the small office restlessly.

"Would you please stop that Cordelia?" Wesley looked up from where he sat on the couch reading through an ancient demonology text.

"Stop what?" Cordelia snapped. In the past two days Wesley and Angel had both been bothering her more than normal. They claimed that *she* was the overly sensitive one, but REALLY sometimes Wesley's loud breathing just drove her insane!

"Pacing."

"I was here before you, and if I want to pace, I can pace."

Hearing Cordelia's words, Angel frowned from inside his office. Cordelia was usually difficult to read, but recently she'd been absolutely impossible, and completely lacking in humor.

Privately he wondered what exactly happened in Ethan Rayne's guesthouse, but with Cordelia's current mood he was too scared to ask. Besides he couldn't imagine Giles taking advantage of a girl as young as Cordelia. Rupert Giles is one of the most respectable, honorable men Angel knew.

Returning to the financial section of the paper, Angel's ear perked up at the sound of a courier delivering two packages. One each for Wesley and himself.

"Angel?" Wesley held the small boxes gingerly. "Any idea why you and I are recieving mail from Mr. Rayne?"

"There's only one way to find out." Angel opened the box carefully only to find an unlabeled video cassette inside.

"Any chance that it's his last will and testament?"

"Let's find out."

The trio descended in the elevator to Angel's apartment and popped the first tape into the VCR. An image flickered onto the screen, revealing the guesthouse and Cordelia and Giles locked in a passionate embrace.

"Son of a --"

Angel caught the remote before Cordelia could fling it through the television screen. "Cordelia. . . "

"Miserable, no good, sick, perverted, disgusting old . . . ."

Angel's hand covered the crossbow, not allowing her to lift it from the desk. "Cordelia! Calm down. I think it's safe to say that this means Ethan's not done with you."

"Not done with ME? HA! If Ethan Rayne thinks that I'm done with him he's got another thing coming! I'm going to rip him into itty bitty tiny little pieces!" Cordelia snarled. "I'm *going* to kill him."

"I think you're going to have to get in line for that." Wesley said from the other side of the room. "If Angel and I recieved copies of this video, what do you think the chances are that our aquaintances in Sunnydale did as well?"

"Wesley. . .we have to have a discussion about what *is* and is *not* helpful."

"Oh. . . my . . . God." Cordelia's jaw dropped as she slumped back in her chair, gaping at Wesley and Angel. "You think," Gulp. "Ethan sent that video to Buffy, Xander and Willow?"

"I think it's a possibility." Wesley replied, stunned by a sudden choking sound. "Cordelia?"

"Oh God." She repeated doubled over in her chair making a moaning sound.

"Cordelia?" Angel moved closer, and was shocked to discover she was laughing.

"Oh God Angel. . . .I may be slightly mortified. . .but Giles. . .is . . . .going to have to. . . .explain this to Buffy and Xander and Willow. . ." She took a shuddering breath. "I know it's awful. . .but wouldn't you *pay* to be a fly on the wall?"
 

Sunnydale

"What are we going to say to him?" Willow tugged Buffy to a halt at the bottom of the steps leading to Giles' apartment.

"I thought I'd be sensitive and ask Giles when he turned into a filthy old pervert who gets off on getting girls more than 1/2 his age drunk and naked." Xander responded grimly. The very idea that Giles had put his hands all over Cordelia made him sick. "Maybe someone's putting Viagra in the L.A water supply."

"Xander!" Willow admonished. "This is GILES we're talking about. There's got to be an explanation."

"Well, I wanna hear it." Buffy knocked once on Giles' door, and pushed it open.

Giles watched as the trio of teenagers filed in. Xander looked disgusted, Willow pensive, and Buffy shocked. "What's the matter? What's happened?" Xander tossed Giles a videotape on it, a post it note that reads "Ask Me About My Summer Vacation."

"What's this?"

"Well. . . " Willow searched for the best explanation. "It starts out with a really nice mansion. . . ."

"And end up with you coping a feel on Cordelia like some horny old pervert." Xander finished.

Buffy elbowed him roughly in the ribs. "We all got a copy."

"I still don't understand what the problem is. People have sex." Anya huffed. "Where do you all think you came from?" She'd never understand the human obsession with sex. How people did it. Where they did it. And with whom they did it, all seemed to take up a lot of time in their culture.

"Give them to me." Giles promptly opened the cartridges and ripped out the tape. "I am only going to tell you this story once. After that we will never discuss it again. Is that clear?"

Only after he recieved three nods did he wave them into the livingroom. "While I was in Los Angeles I ended up at a party thrown by Ethan. He's been playing the part of a movie producer. . . ."

"So Cordy was there?" Willow guessed.

"Yes. She had no idea that Ethan was the host. He was casting spells on both me and Cordelia. I don't know what's on those tapes. But I can tell you that we never consumated anything. Wesley and Angel came in before anything could happen."

"How convenient. And what would Cordelia say if I called her and asked her?"

Giles removed his glasses and glowered at the boy. "Before or after she died of mortification? You will of course do as you see fit. . . .but I would hope that you would show some discretion."

"I still don't get it. You went to a party with ETHAN RAYNE after he turned you into a DEMON?"

"My relationship with Ethan is complex." Giles muttered. "To say the least."

Not at all pacified, Xander interjected. "Well that's lovely for you to be complex Giles. But this time you and Ethan got CORDELIA involved in your sick little games."

Anya watched curiously as her boyfriend's face flushed and he glared at the older man. Hmm. . . .

"I am well aware of that Xander. Ethan is not going to make that little video available to the public. It was a private message intended for the sole purpose of making me squirm. Ethan does have a code of ethics of sorts, and humiliating Cordelia would cross that code."

"You think Ethan has a code of ETHICS?" Buffy's eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding me. Ethan can't SPELL ethics!"

"You're right, Ethan has no code of ethics. But he does have an iota of common sense. He knows that friendship and nostalgia will only save him so many times. . . .you are merely going to have to take my word that this will go no further."

"So! I heard that you got some old man." Spike strolled into Giles' apartment with a grin on his face. "Niiiiice show there. Two thumbs up. Does she have a friend?"
 

Angel Investigations:

"She almost got herself killed tonight." Wesley frowned handing Angel a warm mug of blood. "I'm worried. She's been to the doctor, but her fever's not going down. I don't think she's sleeping, and she hasn't even been to an audition for two weeks."

"I know, I'm starting to think it's some kind of reaction to Ethan's spell. A side effect."

"I think you should call Rupert." Wesley frowned and passed Angel the telephone.

"Why me?"

"He at least feigns civility with you. We haven't reached that point in our association yet." Wesley answered still looking through the doorway where Cordelia slumped at her desk looking flushed and exhausted. "Angel, I know you're not happy with Rupert, but if he can give us some answers that help Cordelia, then it must be worth putting aside some of our own feelings."

Sighing, Angel seated himself at his desk and dialed the familiar number. "You say that since *I'm* the one that has to talk to him." The phone rang several times before being picked up. "Giles?"

"What?" Giles started at the irritable tone in his own voice. Somewhere in the past two weeks he'd lost any semblance of manners or breeding. He'd been forced to apologize to one or another of the children on more than one occasion. "Angel. What is it?"

"I think that Cordelia is suffering some sort of side effects from the spell Ethan cast."

"Spell?" Giles asked with deliberate obtuseness. Ethan wouldn't have sent a video to. . . .oh Bloody Hell! Of course he did. The King of Chaos reigns supreme. Bastard. Not particularly wanting a critique of his performance, Giles moved on to more important matters.

"What sort of side effects?" Giles tugged a notepad onto his lap from his desk.

"She's not eating. Or sleeping. She's distracted and clumsy. She nearly shot Wesley with her crossbow the other day. She's feverish, but when she had a check up the doctor didn't turn anything up." Angel frowned at the reciever. "Giles?"

"I'll be there in two hours."

"Well that was productive." Angel scowled, and rose to his feet. "He'll be here in two hours."

Wesley stood in the other side of the doorway as they watched Cordelia intently. "She'll be fine Angel."
 

One Hour Forty-Five Minutes Later:

Stepping into the old elevator, Giles took a deep steadying breath. The entire situation was a bloody mess. He was having the same symptoms as Cordelia, and if his theory was correct, things were only going to get worse.

Giles opened the iron grate of the elevator and stepped into the dark hallway. He could hear soft voices in the office.

"Cordelia! Are you all right?" Angel sounded very concerned.

"Yeah. It--was another vision. But I don't understand it. I can't focus on it!" Cordelia sighed in exasperation.

"You've got to try Cordelia." Wesley urged. "Let me get you a bottle of water and some aspirin."

"I don't know what's the matter with me!" Cordelia's voice cracked.

Stepping into the office, Giles set his bag down on the floor and crossed to kneel in front of the chair Cordelia was slumped in. "Hullo."

Almost instantly Cordelia flung herself forward into his arms, hugging him so tightly it was as though she wanted to crawl inside of him. Giles could feel her unexpected embrace taking off some of the edge that had developed in the past two weeks. Something about the scent of her, the touch of her small hands on his shoulders soothed the beast within.

"I don't know what's wrong with me Giles." Cordelia nestled closer in his embrace, not noticing Wesley and Angel's identical frowns. She never expected to feel so *good* holding Giles.

His hands came up to cup her warm face. "I think I do." He replied. "But first you need to focus on your vision. That's the immediate problem. Can you do that now?"

Strangely enough Cordelia had no difficulty recounting her vision of a giant purple demon at a local nightclub to Angel and Wesley.

"Go on then. I'll take care of her." Giles said firmly when it appeared that Angel was going to argue. "We'll discuss it when you get back."

"Sorry about that." Cordelia slowly pulled herself to her feet, feeling slightly abashed in the face of her strange reaction to him. "Um, do you want something to drink?"

"Yes. Actually I brought some tea I think you might try." Giles followed Cordelia into the kitchen, and put on a kettle of water. "I understand you haven't been feeling well."

"Not really." Cordelia hedged. "I'm just 'off' lately. More than usual. Did that snitch Wesley call you? He's such a mother hen! He and Angel have been pouring chicken soup down my throat." She looked down at her hands folded primly on the table, and asked quietly. "Did they get the video too?"

"Yes. But I destroyed their copies. Cordelia, you have no idea how much I regret . . ."

"Of course you do. I mean I'm not really your type. It's not like I'm Willow or Buffy or anything. . . "

Realizing the mess he's making, Giles crouched in front of her chair easily tilting her face towards his. "That is *not* what I am trying to say Cordelia. I regret the fact that Ethan used you to hurt me. And that you were hurt in the process."

Cordelia knew that he was saying something, but it was getting lost in the touch of his hand on her face. "It's not your fault. I was at the party all on my own." She shuddered slightly. "And when I think of who I could have ended up with. . . ewww. Some gross old man with more hands than hair."

A small smile crossed Giles' lips. "I think that you're sickness is because of Ethan's spell. We need to find him and get him to reverse it." Once the kettle began to boil, he poured two cups of his special blend of tea, and passed a cup to Codelia. "Drink all of this."

"What's happening to me?" Cordelia sipped the tea and made a terrible face. "Blech."

"Drink up." Giles quickly finished his. "I think that our symptoms. . ." At Cordelia's curious glance, Giles nodded. "Yes, I'm having them as well. Don't stem so much from the spell, but from the fact that we were unable to finish what was started."

"You mean??" THAT had to be why she couldn't get the much older librarian out of her head. When she was awake she was missing him like her next breath, and when she was asleep. . .when she was asleep he finished what was started so spectacularly she'd gotten used to ice cold showers.

"I think Ethan's spell has a sexual release trigger of some sort."

"What is it with you Watchers? Always with the doom and gloom." Cordelia finished her tea and set aside the cup. "So how do we find Ethan? I mean this is just a little too strange even for a girl that grew up on a Hellmouth."

"I think that I've got a way to lure Ethan out into the open." Giles confided.

"Can't we just lure him out into the open spaces of the freeway?"

"Not that I haven't considered it, but I don't think that would solve our immediate problems." Giles' green eyes bored into Cordelia's. "You'll never know how sorry I am that I got you into this mess."

"Would you stop that?" Cordelia snatched the cups up from the table and moved to the kitchen sink. "I know it's probably the Watcher in you that makes you think that everything is always your responsibility, but this is Ethan's fault. Not mine, not yours. If you'd known things would end up like this, you never would have gone."

"You seem to know a great deal about this." Giles commented watching her stiff body language.

"Yeah, well I may have had a few lessons about letting go of guilt lately." Turning, she forced a smile to her face, and the dark thoughts out of her head. "Whatever was in that tea made me feel better. Loosened that knot in the pit of my stomach."

"When I go back to Sunnydale I'll leave you with a tin of it. Two teaspoons no more than three times a day."

"What is in it?"

"I would answer you Cordelia, but I'm afraid that's on a need to kow basis."

"It's something disgusting isn't it?" Grabbing a clean dishtowel Cordelia rubbed at her tongue. "What is it Giles? Blech. I knew it tasted funny. It better not have come from the inside of some slimey amphibian! No 'toadstone' tea. . . ."

"No Cordelia. Nothing in the tea came from an animal." Giles shook his head.

"Then you're right. I don't want to know. It's some witchy thing right?"

"Right." He watched as she picked up the phone on her desk before it even rang.

"Hey Angel. What happened? Did you and Wes kill the big bad already? No? Want me to meet you? Oh FINE!! Jeesh! I said I was sorry for almost shooting him! Tell Wesley not to be such a big baby! You guys will be careful? No. I'm fine. Wesley's more use to you than he would be to me. I'll lock up and take the laptop home with me in case you guys need anything. Call in six hours or face my wrath."

"You knew the phone was going to ring?"

Cordelia ducked her head. "Lucky guess?"

"I don't think so. What's going on Cordelia?"

"I'm hungry. Are you hungry? We can grab some take out on the way home."

* * * * *

Cordelia's Apartment

"And this is the demon database that Harry and I have been working on. It's not quite complete yet, but every time we run into a demon I make sure to classify it and enter it in."

"Incredible."

"Well for a guy who thinks that computers are a passing fad, you seem pretty impressed."

"And this 'Harry' person was your friend Doyle's ex-wife? Doyle was the one that gave you the visions?"

"Yeah. . . ." Cordelia frowned. "It's not going to be that easy Giles. I don't want to talk about the visions and you can't make me."

"Fine. I don't want to know about the visions. I want to know how it is that you pick up a phone before it rings. And please. . . " Giles held up a hand and used his most stern expression. "Please don't try and pass it off as coincidence."

Slamming down the top of the computer Cordelia glared at Giles. She could feel a cool breeze of air brush her cheek. "I'm calm Dennis. I'm very very calm."

Giles had almost forgotten about the ghostly presence in the time he'd been in Cordelia's apartment.

"Look Giles. I know you can't help it. You're curious. But I'm not some psychic science experiment. I used to be the normal one. I ENJOYED being the normal one. There was the witch, the wolf, the Slayer, the Watcher, and God knows that Xander's anything but normal. . . .then *POOF* Doyle's gone and I've got these visions. . .then the rest of it came and I hate it!"

"I'm sorry Cordelia . . .I didn't mean to be insensitive." He rubbed his hands over his face wearily. "And contrary to popular belief a Watcher is hardly endowed with any super powers."

"I don't know, I always thought that all the tweed was just a cover for a pair of tights and a cape."

"We are issued the cape, but the tights are optional." Giles replied. "I don't suppose that I might persuade you to allow me to use that infernal machine and make inquiries about Ethan to some mutual friends of ours."

"I thought that Egyhon killed all your mutual friends?"

Giles' jaw only tightened in response.

"Oops. Sorry about that." Cordelia waved her hand expansively. "Sure. You do know how to use one don't you?"

"I've got a vague idea."

"Well then, I'll leave you to it. I'm exhausted." She turned away from the table to find Dennis floating a couple pillows and blankets in front of the sofa. "Aww! Thanks Dennis!" She watched in satisfaction as her roomate carefully made up a comfortable bed on the sofa.

Giles was so intent on sending out his inquiries he was surprised when a fresh cup of tea replaced the cup cooling at his side. "Oh! Yes! Thank you Dennis." Cordelia's ghostly roomate was an excellent host. Taking a sip of the tea, Giles smiled at the hint of whiskey in it. "Good man Dennis."

Cordelia emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam dressed in a pair of boxer shorts and T-shirt, her wet hair wrapped in a towel. Padding in barefeet to the cupboards on the far side of the livingroom she revealed an impressive library of books. Finally selecting a book of poems, Cordelia turned and surveyed her livingroom. Giles seated at the kitchen table with his glasses on, and intently glaring at the computer screen with a cup of tea in his hand.

It felt suddenly very safe. Since the incident with Wilson Christopher she hadn't felt safe in her own home. She'd thrown away all the bedding, and carefully removed any trace of that evening from the apartment, but nothing could erase the memories from her mind. Somehow, having Giles here counteracted the insidious darkness.
 

3:00 am.

Giles jerked awake after a particularly erotic dream, only to find Cordelia curled in a chair next to the sofa. "Cordelia?" He fumbled for his glasses and the switch for the lamp. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"I'm fine. I haven't slept in there in a while." She nodded in the direction of her bedroom. "Guess I'm not used to it." She toyed with the edge of her blanket. "Why don't you take the bed? I'm shorter, I'll fit better on the couch anyway." She suggested.

"I can't kick you out of your room. . . ." Giles' expression was troubled. "Is there something you need to talk about Cordelia? Because I assure you, whatever you tell me is safe, and will stay strictly between us."

Climbing out of the chair, Cordelia moved and dropped down onto the sofa, barely giving Giles time to move his legs. "I can't sleep there anyway Giles." She took a deep breath. "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up the same way again. . . ."

Not knowing the details, Giles carefully placed an arm around Cordelia's shoulders, and pulled her against the soft cotton of his nightshirt. "You know, after I found Jenny, even after I got rid of the bed, I couldn't bring myself to go into my bedroom for months. During the daylight I was able to convince myself there was nothing wrong with the room. But at night . . .at night it was far too painful."

"I got rid of the bedspread, and the sheets. . . I can't afford a new bed, but I don't think it will make a difference anyway." Cordelia said flatly. Unconsciously she curled closer to Giles' solid body, drawing warmth from him. "Right after Doyle died I met this man at a party. A photographer named Wilson." She sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I was trying too hard to have a normal life, but he was funny, and sweet, and maybe he reminded me a little of Xander." Closing her eyes Cordelia frowned. "And he was actually interested in me. It was like he knew me. Anyway, he brought me home, and I should have listened to Dennis. Dennis didn't like him from the beginning."

Giles said nothing, merely bracing himself for what he knew had to be a terrible ending.

"The next morning. . . it was like coming into a horror movie halfway through." She shuddered and placed both hands over her flat stomach. "I was nine months pregnant." A harsh forgery of a laugh escaped from her lips. "It was my turn to figure out the 'Girl from Sunnydale' lesson. Sex is bad."

Giles' hold on her increased.

"There were seven babies. . . .NO. There were seven demons. They weren't babies. And they weren't mine. A Hacksaw demon gave these guys fame and fortune in return for getting girls with no family pregnant so he could raise an army."

"My God. You mean they KNEW?"

"Yeah, but it was worth it, cause they got really nice cars out of the deal right?" Cordelia's laugh was bitter. "And the worst thing was that I could HEAR them inside of me. Cause the first thing I wanted to do when I woke up was to throw myself down a few flights of stairs, or drink gasoline. . .but I couldn't. I could hear them. . ."

"Them?"

"Wesley took me to the doctors and they counted seven fetuses."

"SEVEN?!"

"I was huge." Cordelia shrugged.

"What happened?"

"Wesley and Angel used liquid nitrogen to freeze the demon which killed the fetuses in the womb the dumb ex-cheerleader who should have known better built." Cordelia rattled off with a humor she most definately wasn't feeling. Afterward, Angel offered me as much time as I needed. I don't know what he thought I'd do with it. Sit here and brood? That's really his trademark, not mine. And most of the time I'm fine. . .I mean I even occasionally go on dates, but they have to pick me up at the office which is enough to scare off any but the innocent. It's not easy explaining to a date why I'm attached at the hip to two good looking guys who are always at my place or visa versa."

"Yes, I understand that it's not easy explaining this particular way of life. For years I have had to have some semi-logical explanation for the fact that a forty-five year old ex-librarian has a troop of teenagers marching in and out of his apartment late at night." Giles answered.

"Oh man. . . .I never thought about it that way. What *do* you tell people?"

"Absolutely nothing. I stopped explaining myself long ago."

"It kind of made sense when you worked in the library, but now. . . ."

"Well that is about to be changed. I've accepted a position at the Sunnydale museum." Giles informed her, noticing her drooping eyelids.

Cordelia's head rested against his shoulder, Giles began to explain very carefully and in great detail his duties and new responsibilities at the Sunnydale Historical Museum, and soon, she was sleeping soundly.
 

Sunnydale Historical Museum (The Next Day)

"Nice place you have here Giles. . . .was the roof taken?" Xander quipped.

"I don't know, I kind of like it. It reminds me of the library at school." Willow mused exploring the vast abandoned museum basement with great interest.

"It may not be cosmetic, but it is functional." Giles said from inside his office. "I'm the only person down here and there are several ways in and out that no one owuld know about unless they'd seen the building plans from 50 years ago."

"I've lost all respect for this hallowed institution. Don't they know that you're the Sunnydale version of the Unabomber?" Xander called from behind a heavy metal bookshelf.

"Xander, try not to touch anything." Giles winced as a book teetered on the edge of the case.

"Yep, I think I could like it here." Buffy stretched out on Giles' leather sofa. "Nice and comfy." She folded her hands on her stomach and smiled up at her Watcher. "So how goes things in L.A?"

Giles was spared from answering by the ringing of his cellular phone. "Hullo?"

"Hey there stranger." Cordelia chirped.

"Well yes. Hello there." Giles covered his smile with his hand.

"I'm just gonna guess that all the Scooby Gang is there right now wondering who would call you on your cell phone."

"That sums it up quite nicely I'd say." Giles answered non-commitally.

"So I could say just about anything to you right now and you couldn't do anything about it except smile and nod?"

Giles could almost see the slow cheshire grin spreading across her face. "That really depends on what sort of reaction you're looking for. And you will keep in mind that every action has an equal and opposite reaction won't you?"

"So I shouldn't thank you for my new bed?"

"I hope that you will accept it in the spirit in which it was offered." Giles responded.

"Oh? Does that mean you don't want to sleep with me?"

Feeling several pairs of curious eyes on his face, Giles cursed the spreading warmth creeping over his face. "Th-th-that is not what I. . . . ."

"So you DO want to sleep with me!"

Giles buried his face in his hand. "There is no bloody way that I am going to come out ahead in this conversation is there?"

"Probably not." There was a soft sigh on the other end of the phone. "It's only fair. You're here for just a couple days and my whole life gets turned upside down."

"Yes. I'm well aware of that. . . .I had no intention. . . ."

"And the worst part is, I don't even mind it that much. Except for the icky fever, and the gross tea, and the missing you part."

Stunned, Giles was silent for a moment. The truth was that he missed her as well. Before Ethan's spell the feeling was less potent. Just a vague feeling that someone was missing from their tight-knit little group. But that feeling had blossomed since the spell into a genuine loneliness for her company.

"Anyway. . .since you're not here, I have to make myself feel better somehow. . .and tormenting you is more fun than playing computer solitaire." Cordelia continued. "Now you mentioned something about 'coming' and a certain head?" Hearing Giles' groan, Cordelia continued. "You know, I had a job offer today. . . "

"Is that so?" Hoping for a change in conversation, Giles latched onto the idea of her work.

"Yes. A club owner offered to let me dance in his private club. . . ."

Instantly Giles snapped to attention. "HE WHAT?!"

"Yeah. He said I could be taking home $1,500 a week *easy* what with tips and all. More if I'm willing to do private parties. . ..he's also got his own film studio."

Teeth gritted, Giles ennunciated each word carefully. "I'm going to say this once. And once only. You might wish to write this down.Got a pen and paper?" He paused. "Good. Now I want you to tell him to 'sod off' immediately after you call him a 'pillocky good for nothing.' Got that? And then I want you to apply your knee to whatever part of his anatomy is closest." Warm, rich laughter flooded the phone lines. "You were toying with me weren't you?"

"Sod off yourself mate! Spike bellowed from the other room. "I'd pay the chit good money to strip down to her Victoria's Secret!"

When Giles looked across the basement he spotted Spike waving a phone at him.

"SPIKE is there? Spike is listening in on your phone calls?" Cordelia shrieked. "What the hell is wrong with you Sunnydale people? Why don't you stake him and send me the dust?"

"Now. . . .Spike's had a change . . . ."

"Unless it involved a frontal lobotomy I don't want to hear it!"

"Close enough. Spike can't bite, and he can't hurt any living thing." Giles attempted to explain. "He's something of an ally."

"And you Giles are something of a moron if you think he can be trusted!"

"Ooh. . . .give it to him Luv. . .I can't resist a mean woman." Spike purred.

"GET OFF THE LINE!" Giles bellowed.

"Fine. . . .just one question first though Ducks. . . .does the old guy make you wear the cheerleader uniform to get it up?"

"Tell that no-biting, Dru losing, Billy Idol worshipping, WUSSY that if I ever see him again I'm going to . . . . "

Giles pulled the phone away from his ear, and winced at the mental picture Cordelia was painting. The vivid, vicious, revolting mental image she was painting.

"Ooh." Spike returned. "Tell me more. . .you know ducks you could run a phone sex line for vamps. . .you sexy little thing you." At Giles' withering glare Spike shrugged. "What? Vamps like it a little on the rough side." Still purring Spike settled himself into a chair. "Cor. . . you should forget the stage, get a whip a pair of handcuffs and a leather cat suit and you'd make more money than you can imagine as a vampire dominatrix. . .people pay good money for what you're dishing out."

"How much?"

Flabbergasted Giles butt in. "THAT'S ENOUGH!!!! Both of you! Spike hang up the damn phone!"

"That's okay you wanker. . . I have the girl's number in my head. I'll just give her a call later. A little practice and she might be as good as Dru."

"Buffy, if Spike isn't out of the building in ten seconds you have my permission to stake him." Giles instructed. "Feel free to start counting at seven."

"Hey hey hey now!" Spike backed away from a determined looking Buffy. "I would have thought gettin' some would turn him into less of a wanker! Especially a pretty little young and tasty piece of fluff like that cheerleader!"

"Nine. . . ." Giles snarled before storming into his office and slamming the door. He could hear Cordelia's laughter on the other end. "You're damned impossible!"

"I'm very possible, you're just fighting too hard."

All laughter forgotten, Giles could practically feel her warm breath on her skin as she whispered in his ear. "One of us has to be responsible in all this. . . ."

"Fine. Then we have safe sex."

Giles sank down onto his sofa with a heartfelt groan. "Cordelia. . . ."

"Just hearing you say my name like that sends shivers up my spine. It makes me want to hear you call me that when there's nothing but thin air between our bodies . . . ." She paused, drawing in a steadying breath. "I've thought about this Giles. And I don't care *how* it started."

"You would luv. You would care very much when the spell is broken and you see me as just another bastard who's taken advantage of you." He leaned back into the sofa and closed his eyes. "Once the spell is broken. . . ."

"I can go back to having jerks take me out and expect a quick fuck cause I'm young, and pretty, so I must be dumb. And you can go back to not getting any and not having any life outside of being an ex-watcher. Forgive me if that's not a lot to look forward to."

"Cordelia. . . ."

"No. That's okay. I get it Giles. You like your life the way it is. The only way you could ever want me is because of Ethan Rayne's stupid spell. . . .you may now return to your regularly scheduled life."

"Bloody Hell!" Giles cursed venomously, not sure whether it was at himself for being so stupid, or Cordelia for being so obstinate. Yanking open the office door, he was confronted by several pairs of curious eyes.

* * * * *

L.A City Hospital

Angel strode through the hospital corridors ignoring the stench of illness and death. He spotted Wesley outside the Emergency Room pacing back and forth.

"What happened?"

Wesley turned and revealed his black and blue bruised face, and caught Angel's arm and pulled him into a stairwell where they wouldn't be overheard. "We were coming out of the restuarant with some take out when we were cornered by a group of vampires. I was dealing with one, while the other went for Cordelia. . . .Angel it was as if she were frozen to the spot. By the time she moved for a stake in her purse, it was too late. . . ."

"How bad is she?"

"There were too many. . . when I finally got rid of the last one she'd lost so much blood. . ."

"Did it turn her?"

"No!" Wesley slumped against the wall. "Thankfully no. I staked him before he had a chance, but she's lost so much blood Angel . . . ."
"What did you tell the doctors?"

"That we were mugged. I didn't bother to try and explain the marks on her neck." He held up his bandaged arm. "Fortunately for us Cordelia and I are a match. They've taken as much as they could. . ."

Emerging from the stairwell, a doctor approached Wesley. "Are you a friend of Miss Chase's?"

"Yes. I'm her employer." Angel said. "She's got no immediate family in the area. How is she?"

"Very lucky considering." The doctor scubbed his hands over his face. This wasn't the first case like this he'd seen in his time in Los Angeles, but try as he might, it never got any more *real*. A young, otherwise healthy girl beaten to a pulp with two distinctive marks on her neck and no other explanations for so much blood loss. Shaking off his thoughts he motioned them out of the way of a passing gurney. "Most people that recieve that kind of damage don't make it." He held up his hand. "But because you got her here in time, and happened to be a match for her blood type, she's going to be fine."

"Will you keep her over night?"

"If she has no one to look after her, yes. I would rather be cautious." He continued. "She's very weak and anemic, we've given her B vitamin shots and plenty of iron. . . she's young and in excellent physical condition. I expect a full recovery. She's asking for you. . . " He added looking at Wesley. "You can both see her, but she needs rest more than she needs chit chat. So don't stay too long." He lifted a hand to Wesley's face, turning it to both sides. "I think you'll do, I'll have a nurse bring you an ice pack for your jaw."

"Thank you." Wesley and Angel both entered the small E.R room. "Cordelia?" Wesley winced at how pale she seemed in the stark white light.

"Hey. . . .where's my take out?" She struggled to lift herself up in the bed, only to have Angel's hand gently shove her back down.

"You almost were take out Cordelia. . . ."

"But you look lovely nonetheless." Wesley added.

"I like HIS bedside manner a lot more than yours Angel!" Cordelia pouted. "Well I've got to get out of here then. Cause I hate hospitals and I hate hospital food."

"You're staying the night here. And then we've got to talk about what to do next."

Cordelia's jaw tightened mutinously, and her arms folded over her chest. "What do you mean what to do next?"

"You can't continue on this way Cordelia. You could have been killed tonight."

Softening only slightly, Cordelia shot a sheepish grin to Wesley. "Thank you." Turning back to Angel she was glowering again. "What? You're gonna fire me? I don't think you can!"

"No. But I can ground you." Angel answered, not letting himself be bowled over by either her pouty face or her determined expression.

"In case you haven't noticed I'm a grown woman. You can't ground me!"

"I can. I will. And I have." Angel answered equally stubbornly. "This spell is making you a threat to yourself and others."

"Oh? And who's going to enforce this 'grounding'? You and what army Brood-Boy?"

"Now let's not get carried away here. . . ." Wesley attempted to interject a reasonable tone into the escalating argument.

"I'm 227 years older than you. I don't *need* an army. You mean a lot to me Cordelia. I've already lost one friend in Los Angeles, and I am NOT going to lose another."

"And I'm not going to be treated like a little girl Angel."

"I'm not. I'm treating you like a grown woman who knows damn well that tonight not only could she have gotten herself killed, but Wesley as well . . ." Ignoring the fast breath Cordelia sucked in, Angel continued. "You can't concentrate and you can't fight. You're a sitting duck here, so I'm going to take you to someone who can help. Until this spell is broken and you're ready to come back to work."

Eyes narrowed, Cordelia glared at her boss. "Who?"

"Giles." Angel returned. "Wesley, I've already called Dennis and told him to pack Cordelia's things. . . I need you to go to her apartment and pack Dennis."

"Pack Dennis?" Momentarily distracted Cordelia looked curious. "How do you pack a ghost?"

"Very carefully. I think I know where that spell is. I'll go by the office first."

Angel tossed him the keys. "I'll drive her from here."

"Will do!"

Once the door closed, Cordelia was so silent that Angel chuckled. "Cordelia. I'm really only doing this because I care about you."

"Oh yeah! Nothing says 'I love you' like being banished!"

"I do love you Cordelia . . . "

"Angel, I swear. If you say this is for your own good I will stake you myself and sprinkle your ashes in Graceland!" A scowl crossed her face. "Giles won't want me there." She admitted softly. "He doesn't want anything to do with me."

"He called me Cordelia. I hung up the phone from him seconds before Wesley called. He felt something through the spell. . .the bond between you told him you were in danger. He suggested that you should be in Sunnydale until this is straightened out." Angel didn't add that the Watcher had been uncharacteristically disturbed. . . .and that he'd mentioned that Cordelia might balk at the idea of living in the apartment right next door.

Cordelia sighed as Angel's cool hand brushed over her forehead. Tired. She was very, very tired. Before drifting off, she opened one eye, and met Angel's concerned gaze. "This vacation is paid right?"
 

Giles

"Angel!" Xander, Willow and Anya scrambled to their feet. They'd been eating pizza on the floor of Giles' apartment waiting for the Slayer and Watcher to come back after hunting a demon.

"Cordelia!"

"Could you guys yell less? My head is killing me." Cordelia moaned as Angel carefully settled her on the couch.

"Are you all right?" Willow took in Cordelia's wan, listlessness, and caught a glimpse of bite marks on her throat. "Umm. . . .Angel?"

Hearing the trepidation in Willow's voice, Angel flinched. "No Willow. I didn't turn her. Cordelia's very much alive. There was a vamp attack, and she was hurt. Giles invited her to recuperate in Sunnydale."

"Yeah. I could have gone to Bermuda, but the Hellmouth just sounded like so much more fun." Cordelia drawled, then spoiled the effect by yawning widely.

Xander watched distrustfully as Angel reached into a bag and removed a small wooden puzzle box. "What's that?"

"Someone to look after Cordelia." Angel replied setting the box on the table. "Willow, before I do this, you should know that there's a ghost in this box. . . .he's harmless, so don't do any spells to get rid of him."

"He's a friend. And if any of you people do or say anything to hurt Dennis' feelings I will be REALLY mad." Cordelia added.

"Question. Do you have any *live* friends in L.A?" Anya asked.

"No. I find that the deader they are, the more likely they are to keep their mouths shut."

Angel opened the box, and a cool breeze filled the room, suddenly the small t.v turned on and flipped through the channels.

"Now Phantom Dennis. I know he doesn't have cable. . .but you've got to be reasonable! The man just got a real paying job!"

"You could always read a good book. . . ." Angel commented as a heavy tome flew at his head. "HEY!"

"Okay! Cable first thing Monday morning!" Cordelia soothed. "But no C-Span. That just makes you crazy." She smiled as she felt the pillow behind her back fluff. "Thank you Dennis."

"Um. . .okay. . .anyone want to share with the rest of the class?" Xander asked watching the strange scene.

"Introductions. . . Dennis, the red headed witch is Willow. The other girl and ex-demon is Anya, and the guy with the funny hair is Xander. Guys, this is Phantom Dennis."

"How come you never fluff *my* pillows?" Anya huffed.

"I'm not that whipped yet?" Xander suggested suggested as the lights flipped off and on.

"Then I'm not working hard enough." Anya surmised. .

"Cordelia, I've got to get going. Call me. . ." Angel ordered.

"Angel. . .aren't you going to stay. . . ?" Willow struggled briefly.

"No." Angel answered firmly before planting a kiss on Cordelia's forehead.

"Now that tall, dark and dead is gone, do you want to explain all this?"

Cordelia debated for a minute before reaching her answer. "No. Not really Xander. Giles can explain it when he gets back. I'm tired." Suddenly an afghan floated past Xander, slowly unfolding over Cordelia's prone body, and then the lamps on either side of the sofa went out, leaving the area in shadow.

"Cord-" Xander stepped forward only to have a book lift from the end table and smack the hand that reached out for her shoulder. "That HURT! I thought you were like Casper!"

"Dennis *is* friendly. To me. And really that's all that counts." Cordelia murmured snuggling deeper into the pillows.

Giles and Buffy walked into the apartment to be met by a floating tea cup. "Dennis?" Giles accepted it and took a sip, tasting the splash of whiskey. "Dennis. Good to not see you again." His lips curved in a slight smile. Feeling his Slayer tensing next to him, Giles placed his hand on her shoulder. "It's all right Buffy."

"You should be happy he didn't put hemlock in that tea. He's not particularly thrilled about the lack of cable. . ." Cordelia's head appeared from behind the sofa.

"Cordelia?! What are you doing here?"

"I missed our close friendship?" Cordelia offered insincerely.

Buffy watched with narrowed eyes as Giles crossed to the couch, and looked Cordelia over. "I didn't know they would bring you tonight. Shouldn't you be in the hospital?"

"The doctor said as long as I take it easy for a couple days, and I've got someone to watch for shock, and I don't get attacked by any more vamps and I don't have any more spells cast on me, I should be fine."

"I have the apartment next door furnished with some bare essentials."

"You knew this was coming?"

"I knew that the longer the spell lasted, the better the chance was that at some point you would have to return to Sunnydale." He replied quietly. She looked pale, and sleepy, tousled and breathtaking.

"Just like a man. . .you assumed I'd give up my demon hunting and *my* undead friends to follow you. . . .just once I'd like to see a situation where the ex-watcher gives up everything to follow the clumsy, accident/attack prone seer to *her* job."

"I'd rather face the Hellmouth than Los Angeles traffic." Giles responded.
 

Giles'

"I don't want you to mistake the fact that I'm here for forgiveness. I'm still ticked at you."

"Oh good. I would hate to have you cooperative and helpful. Sulking and petulant makes things so much more enjoyable." Giles commented dryly from behind his book.

"I am not sulking and petulant. I'm mildly crabby."

"Would it make you slightly less crabby to know that I have a meeting tomorrow that will most likely lead to finding Ethan?"

Cordelia's eyes widened. "Really? You're not just saying that so I won't ravage you tonight?"

Coughing slightly Giles set aside his book. "No. I'm not just saying that. There's a small bookstore in Winter Haven that caters to magicians. I've placed a rare text book there knowing that once he was notified Ethan wouldn't be able to stay away. Once I've got Ethan I think I can persuade him to reverse this spell." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Giles stood and began to pace the small apartment. "What I can't figure out is why Ethan would go to all this trouble. Irritating me is something of a hobby of his. . .but why he should bring you into this escapes me."

"Sweet talker." Cordelia muttered dryly.

"What I mean is that if Ethan's goal was to humiliate me, or belittle me, what would be the point in making a beautiful young woman find me irresistable, and visa versa. His usual style would be to make me fall in love with a newt, or a chaos demon or something. This just doesn't feel like Ethan's usual work."

"You need a better class of friends Giles." Cordelia pointed out bluntly. "You know, I meant what I said on the phone. Spell or no spell, I don't know why you're so anxious to have things go back the way they were before. Where you're alone all the time."

"I'm very comfortable being alone Cordelia. I know that you may not understand yet. . . "

"OOH! I hate it when you do that!" Cordelia snapped. "You, Angel and Wesley I could just kill you for it! 'Cept for Angel cause he's already dead, but you get my point." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "You assume that just because I'm younger than you I'm stupid." She waved off his objections. "Yes. You do. I know a lot of things Rupert. I know how to throw an elegant dinner party for 200 while pretending that your mother isn't too high on valium and Stoli to come down from her room. I know how to make sure that my mother never found the reciepts for hotels in my father's dinner jacket. I know what it's like to run a household. I know what it's like to help wine and dine clients. And I know what it's like to go through life doing what you've got to do, and being totally, completely alone. You can tell me that you like being alone, but I know that's bullshit. No one wants to be alone all the time. There's this ache near your heart when you look at all the other happy families and lovey-dovey couples that makes you die inside just a little bit more because you can't figure out why you can't ever have that."

She paused for a deep breath. "So go ahead and lie to everyone. Tell them that it doesn't hurt, and you don't mind. But have the balls to admit it to someone. If not *ME* then at LEAST admit it to yourself!"

Cordelia's words were like a slap in the face of the careful mask he'd worked very hard to build. Kneeling in front of the sofa, Giles grasped Cordelia's arms firmly, pulling her forward so that they were eye to eye. "Is this what you want me to admit?" He growled, green eyes glimmering. "That I'm a lonely man whose days and nights are currently filled with thoughts of a girl young enough to be my daughter." Releasing his grip, Giles stood and shoved a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell. I should be shot."

"Absolutely." Cordelia nodded. "Then we'll just round up all the other people in the world that happen to desire someone else. All the other lonely people. And let's not forget all the men with libidos. . ."

"Will you please be serious?"

"If you're not going to be, I don't see why I have to!" Cordelia threw aside the afghan that had been covering her, and stood on her feet, arms akimbo, toe to toe with Giles. "All right, pop quiz Old Man. What do you see?"

"A stubborn, willful, rude, tactless, occassionaly thoughtless young woman who could quite easily drive me insane!" Giles snapped.

"Very good." Cordelia nodded approvingly. "Shows you've been paying attention! Now do you want to know what I see?" Not waiting for his answer, she rushed ahead. "I see a good looking older, sophisticated man who is intelligent, and yes, even *fun* if you can pull him out of his tweed suits once in a while." She tapped one manicured fingernail against her teeth as she circled him. "Good muscle tone. All his original teeth and hair. . . Very lovely eyes. Nice butt. . . ." She gave him a light pat on the backside. "The test drive was very enjoyable with the potential for true fulfillment if he'd get down off that moral high horse and let me seduce him properly."

"Cordelia. . . ." Giles didn't get any further in his thoughts before she stood on her toes, her body pressed flush against his, and slid her arms underneath his, touching his chest lightly. He could feel her chin pressing into his shoulder, and the warm puff of her breath against his ear.

"Come on Rupert. . . .be a good boy get naked, and no one will get hurt." She pressed her lips just below his ear savoring his low groan.

"Are you trying to drive me out of my mind?"

"Is it working?" Cordelia's voice resonated hopefully in his ear.

"Go upstairs. Go to sleep."

"No."

"Fine! Then you can sleep on the sofa and *I* will go upstairs and go to sleep."

"Fine! And I hope that you have a hard time walking up the stairs thinking about me down here in my skimpiest nightie."

"Sleep in whatever you feel most comfortable Cordelia. Just be warned that Xander, Buffy and Willow don't normally knock in the mornings." Giles shot back headed back up the stairs muttering under his breath about 'Lolitas'.

* * * * *

Winter Haven

"Yes Briggs, this will do nicely." Seated in the backroom of the obscure book shop Ethan smiled in satisfaction. He'd been halfway home to London when he'd recieved the phone call from the bookseller about the mint condition, first edition of the book he'd been searching for for years. "I can't thank you enough for contacting me. Feel free to add an additional 10% to your usual finder's fee."

"Oh no Ethan. Finding you is its own reward." Giles stepped through the curtain seperating the backroom from the rest of the now empty shop, and grabbed Ethan by the throat lifting him out of his seat.

"RIPPER! You very nearly gave me a heart attack." Ethan struggled for oxygen around the other man's bruising grip.

"I'm going to give you a good deal more than a heart attack if you don't undo your spell Ethan." Giles snarled. "You've done a great many stupid and irritating things in your life Ethan, but this is by FAR the most obnoxious thing you've ever done."

Ethan squirmed against Giles' choke hold, sputtering indignantly. "Don't be an ass Rupert. I've done far more obnoxious things in my life. This was fairly mild."

His only reply was a swift jab to the stomach that doubled him over. "I can't undo the spell."

"How unfortunate for you." Giles punctuated each word with another blow.

"I can't undo it! It's a matter of principal!"

"You don't have any."

"True. It's more a matter of a great deal of money and my own personal welfare." He grinned briefly. "You might kick my ass, but there are those who would do me permenant damage of the most severe kind should I fail."

A vague sense of apprehension washed over Giles like mist. "Who paid you? I knew that this wasn't your usual attempts to interfere with my life!"

"Old friends of yours. They're concerned about your single status. . . ."

"The Watcher's Council?" Giles slowly released his grip on Ethan's throat. "Why?"

"It's hard to have a Watcher's Council if the old Watchers don't make lots of little baby Watchers. You may be in disgrace now, but should you do your duty and produce another generation of Giles you'd be back in the Council so fast your head would spin."

"BLOODY HELL!" Giles threw Ethan against the wall, allowing the other man to draw some much needed breaths. "But why you?"

"Because old boy, I'm the only one they could think of who could get close enough to you to work the spell, not to mention that I am extremely good at what I do."

"Your egotism aside, why Cordelia?"

"She's young, beautiful enough to attract any *sane* man, and will most likely be able to produce more than one child before you cork off." Ethan rubbed his throat. "Plus the Council sees the potential for her to be trained as a Watcher herself. They're also curious about whether or not those visions of hers can be passed down genetically.. . ." He let the words trail off. "Look at it from their standpoint for a minute Giles. If they can breed one of their most successful Watchers with a seer, the results could be very impressive. . . ."

"In case you don't remember Ethan I was booted out of the Council. I'm no longer a Watcher. I can hardly be considered one of their most successful." Giles rolled his eyes at Ethan's lame attempt to flatter his way out of the mess he'd created.

"Rupert! Try and pay attention! You were tossed out by a very small margin. The old timers. But you might have noticed. No one lives forever. You've been away from England for too long. There's a support base among some of the other Watchers. The ones who are thinking about moving the Council forward instead of keeping it stuck in the Middle Ages. If you'd look around you once in a great while you'd notice that the old guard are teetering on the brink with the other Watchers who think like yourself poised to push them over the edge. If you play your cards right, you could be a part of the new regime. . ."

"You really should have gone into the theatre Ethan. You'd make a marvelous Iago. . .always whispering in someone's ear like the rabble rousing bit of trash you really are." Giles snorted. "I am not going to use Cordelia like a brood mare for the Council."

"I'm still marveling at your self-control Ripper. It must be killing you to have such a warm, willing, lovely young thing fawning all over you, and not being able to let down your guard enough to enjoy yourself. . . ." Ethan made soft clucking sounds with his tongue.

"She's a child."

"I suppose I should let you know that the spell I cast merely magnified attraction that already existed. The girl had to have wanted you before the spell was cast or else it never would have worked. There would be no point in casting a spell like this on someone you would just go back to disliking or feeling ambivelent about once the spell was broken."

"You're lying."

"No, actually, for novelty I thought that I would try telling the truth." Ethan frowned slightly. "It's not nearly as satisfying as it's been made out to be. The stronger the original attraction, the stronger the spell. It's the mutual attraction between the two of you that's made it this strong."

Ethan watched as several emotions flitted across his old friend's face. "Beginning to see things in a new light?"

"Possibly." Giles concded. "Except for one thing." Suddenly his fist connected with Etha's smug face. "How pissed I am about the videos."

Cradling his nose, Ethan looked up at Ripper. "I thought they'd make delightful stocking stuffers for Christmas and I would have paid good money to see the Slayer's face. . . " His words were cut off violently.
 

Giles' Office

Nursing a glass of scotch, Giles replayed his conversation with Ethan in his head.

"It's hard to have a Watcher's Council if the old Watchers don't make lots of little baby Watchers. You may be in disgrace now, but should you do your duty and produce another generation of Giles you'd be back in the Council so fast your head would spin."

How was he supposed to go to Cordelia and tell her that she was chosen to be the mother of a new generation of Watchers? Exactly what words did a man use to tell a woman less than half his age . . .

Lifting the glass to his lips, Giles was surprised when the lights flickered on.

"Giles! Geez! Give me a heart attack why don't you?" Buffy gasped. "What are you doing sitting in the dark?" Her troubled blue eyes fell on the half empty bottle. "What's wrong Giles?" She crossed the office, and perched on the edge of his desk.

When her Watcher said nothing, merely lifting his glass to his lips again, Buffy gasped in shock. Giles' hands were bruised, the skin of the knuckles torn and bleeding. "Giles! What happened to your hands?"

"I had a conversation with Ethan." Giles answered dully.

"Did you at least take pictures of him for my scrapbook?"

"So sorry. I must have forgotten." Giles murmured absently as Buffy retrieved the first aid kit, and began to lightly dab Witch Hazel on the broken skin of his knuckles.

"Well did you get the spell broken at least?"

"I thought that this was something we'd agreed not to discuss. By mutual consent."

"It was. It is. But I'm worried about you Giles. You don't seem like yourself. And since you're not technically my Watcher anymore, and you've always been a good listener to me, I thought I might try being a friend." Tossing the blood soaked cotton ball in the trash, Buffy recapped the Witch Hazel and pushed the bottle of Scotch just out of Giles' reach. "Come on. I can't help if I don't know what you're thinking."

"That's the problem Buffy. Even I'm not sure what I'm thinking at the moment."

"Well, here's a hint," Buffy carefully plucked the glass from between Giles' fingers and set it on the desk. "It's easier to think without Scotch."

"I really don't know how much you're willing to listen to Buffy." Giles answered bluntly, his reserve diminished because of the alcohol.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your interest in my life as of late has been boiled down to making various faces and scolding me for having a life outside the small box you've decided I belong in."

Buffy's blue eyes widened, and she bit her lip. Now wasn't the time for *her* hurt feelings, Giles needed her as a friend, someone to listen. No matter what he was always there for her when she needed him, and this was her chance to return the favor. "Ouch. Good thing I have that Super Slayer healing thing going for me." She quipped lightly. "So maybe I've been a lousy friend lately, but that really doesn't mean I don't care about you."

Giles studied her expression, and realized that Buffy was in earnest. "Ethan was hired by the Council of Watchers to cast this spell."

"Why? I thought you were out of the Council. Why are they trying to make you miserable now?"

"Actually, as incredible as it may sound, that's not their intention this time." He sighed. "The spell was to bind me to a woman the Council deemed suitable for marriage in the hopes we would have children."

Stunned, Buffy gaped at her watcher. "That's TERRIBLE!"

"But not unheard of. The council believes in the survival of its watchers at all costs. The position is passed down from generation to generation. If I die without children, then the council will have lost part of its legacy. Which I'm sure will make Cordelia completely sympathetic."

"I don't know what to say." Buffy confessed quietly.

Giles smiled slightly. "That's quite all right Buffy. I can't begin to tell you how much the fact you were willing to listen means."

"Anytime Giles." Buffy smiled brilliantly. "And I do mean it you know?"

"I'll try and keep that in mind." Not that anything else would fit in his mind at the moment, other than his current situation.
 
 

Cordelia's

"A museum function?" Flipping through her magazine, Cordelia studiously ignored Giles' hints. If he wanted her to go with him to the museum fund raiser then he could just be a big boy and come out and ask her. "That sounds nice."

"Ahem. . . .yes. . . .well, I don't normally attend these types of functions."

"Good! That means you're trying new things." Cordelia barely smothered a grin as Giles toyed with the ring on his left hand. "That's wonderful."

"Cordelia would you. . . ."

"Of course! I'd be glad to help Buffy patrol while you're at the party. I think that between all of us we should be set. . .things seem pretty quiet around here these days."

Before Giles had a chance to respond, a knock on the door interrupted them. "Cordelia?"

"Just a second Anya!" Cordelia dropped her magazine on the table and smiled at the frustrated Watcher. "Don't worry about the party, I'm sure you'll have a fantastic time. Anya and I are going shopping, see you later!" And with those words she breezed out of the apartment with her purse and a light jacket.
 

The Mall

"What's wrong with this one?" Cordelia pouted.

"You look like a prison matron." Anya replied matter of factly. "I thought you wanted to turn him on. Not make him relive some traumatic experience with his fourth grade teacher."

"You're a lot of help."

"What are you going for exactly?" Anya asked picked through the pile of dresses stacked waist high outside the dressing room.

"I'm going for heartstopping, head turning, jaw-dropping elegance, and mind numbing, body stiffening, libido igniting sex appeal all rolled into one dress."

"Fine. You stay here. I will find you the right dress." Anya frowned mentally reviewing all the possibilities in the store. Leaning forward she grabbed a salesclerk's arm. "Where do you keep the GOOD dresses?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I - said - where - you - keep - the - good - dresses." Anya repeated slowly. "These are icky, go fetch my friend some nice ones. And how about a cappucino Cordelia?"

Choking on her laughter, Cordelia poked her head out of the dressing room. "I could go for a mochachino."

"I still don't understand what you're talking about." The salesclerk scowled at the two very young women.

"This store has a reputation for being *THE* best place to shop in all of Sunnydale. I can't believe you got that reputation with these ugly things." Anya scooped up the entire pile and handed them to the woman. "I bet you've got some really GREAT stuff in that back room." She gestured to a private fitting room.

"I really doubt that you girls would be interested in. . . ."

Cordelia frowned. "Pretty Woman much? My friend and I would like to spend oodles of money in your boutique. But that's not gonna happen unless you find us things we like. And since I am going to the museum gala, which is this little burg's version of the Oscars, I would think that you'd want me chatting up all the patrons about your store. But hey, if this is the best you can do. . . "

"Of course. My name's Katherine, I'll be right back with a selection for each of you."

"Where are you getting all those oodles of money again?" Anya asked curiously as they waited.

"Well. . ."

"Did you rob a bank?"

"Anya, really. . .way too much T.V going on in your life." Cordelia said removing the dress she wore. "There's a law firm in Los Angeles called Wolfram and Hart. They're bad guys that represent even worse guys. Wesley and I found that once the demons and vamps Wolfram and Hart represent die, all the money goes to the law firm. So we kinda got a hold of some banking records. . .and when a vamp or some other nut gets dusted, we clean out his accounts."

Anya's mouth hung open. "You're kidding me right?"

"What? Wolfram and Hart don't need the money, the vamps don't have kids to leave it to. . . and the law's not clear on the rights of the un-dead."

"I am very in awe of you." Anya replied. "Are you sure that you weren't a vengance demon in a former life? But I can't see Angel going for that . . . ."

"We don't exactly *tell* Angel about it." Cordelia explained. Seeing Anya's shocked expression, Cordelia shifted slightly from one foot to the other. "Oh come on! Angel's lived for almost 250 years without a stock portfolio! He's like Peter Pan, not big on the practical side of being eternal. And it's not like we're cutting him out. He gets 1/3. It's set up in an account for him."

Before Anya could say anything more, the salesclerk returned with several articles of clothing of a higher quality than the others.

Not planning to buy anything, but always willing to look, Anya took a dressing room next to Cordelia's. "So you're planning on seducing the Watcher tonight?"

"That's the general plan." Cordelia replied tugging on a red sequined dress. "He's so stubborn."

"But how good a kisser is he?"

"On a scale of one to ten? One hundred million."

"I always thought there was more to him than just a nice set of buns."

"Is that so?" Cordelia's voice lowered slightly, becoming more intense.

"Down girl! Xander is still my number one. But just because I'm deliriously happy doesn't mean I can't look. I always thought it was a shame to have a good looking man go to waste. Giles at least deserved to be someone's devoted love slave or plaything."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Cordelia chuckled.
 

Sunnydale Museum

It was his own fault for not asking Cordelia directly to accompany him. Giles thought morosely as he weaved in and out of the displays of Sho-Gun weaponry and armor.

Of course he shouldn't let himself get too attached to Cordelia's company. At some point she would have to return to her life in Los Angeles with Angel and Wesley. . .

He took another sip of Scotch to ease the ache that thought caused. It was amazing how accustomed he'd become to her presence in his life.

A faint hint of an intoxicating perfume brushed against his senses. Spicy, exotic, subtle it was a perfect blend. And out of the corner of his eye, Giles caught a glimpse of one long leg, framed on either side by laquer red satin.

"Did you try these spring rolls? Do you think it would be declasse to ask for a doggy bag?"

Turning, Giles was forced to have another drink of scotch before his mind could formulate intelligable words.

Cordelia stood dangerously close, dressed in a bright red satin gown with a manderin collar, with a delicate pattern of white blossoms. Her hair had spigs of the flowers tucked into the low bun at the nape of her graceful neck. Her green eyes were accented by smokey kohl eyeliner, her lips slicked with bright red lipgloss.

"You -"

"Me." Cordelia smiled. She could tell that beneath his cool, British reserve, Mr.Rupert Giles, Watcher Extraordinaire was about to blow a gasket.

When he failed to close his mouth, Cordelia dipped a roll in the bright green Wasabi and popped it in his mouth.

As Giles' eyes began to water from the heat of the wasabi, Cordelia grinned. "Yummy isn't it?"

Giles looked in vain at his scotch, knowing that would do nothing to put out the fire in his mouth, and glowered when Cordelia held up a cool looking glass of club soda with lime.

"Say 'Cordelia is a goddess'." She taunted, keeping the glass just out of his reach.

Without saying a word, Giles wrapped his arm around Cordelia's waist, and pulled her into an alcove and forcibly removed the glass from her hand. After downing all the soda, Giles regained the power of speech. "Cordelia is a goddess who will be lucky if she can sit down tomorrow." He muttered, feeling the lingering burn on his lips.

"Wouldn't I be luckier if I couldn't sit down tomorrow?" She inquired brightly.

"Cordelia. . . "

"Cor! Would the two of you get a bloody room." Came the impatient voice from behind Giles. "The combination of magic and lust is enough to make a delicate boy like myself blush."

"Spike. . . what are you doing here?" Giles demanded.

"A lot of the weapons on loan are mine." Spike shrugged lighting a cigarette directly below the 'Thank You for Not Smoking' sign.

"You?"

"Yes. I've killed a lot of demons in my day. Some of the nastier ones are packrats. I've got warehouses of this kind of crap."

"And you just donate it out of the goodness of your heart?" Cordelia snorted indelicately.

"No peaches. I donate it with the absolute certainty that it will probably be stolen. . ." He winked at Cordelia. "It's all insured to the hilt."

"Could you go away now Spike?" Giles asked with a degree of politeness he certainly didn't feel.

"Actually, I was going to ask the lady to dance."

"Excuse me?"

"Well pet, how can anyone appreciate how hot you look if the old watcher's got you pinned in an alcove?" He grinned mischieviously. "And just think how nuts it'll make him."

"Well. . .there is that." Cordelia said thoughtfully. "And he didn't even invite me you know?"

"Fool." Spike murmured, holding out his arm in a gentleman's gesture. "Then you're free to spend the evening with me."

"I would be." Cordelia answered. "Except for that whole hating you thing. And the part where I wouldn't trust you further than I could throw you."

"Ooh. Are you going to start with that dirty talk again?" Spike asked with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "Use me ducks. Abuse me. . . ."

"I'm going to stake you in about five seconds." Giles growled, keeping a proprietary hand on Cordelia at all times.

Spike spared Giles a bored glance. . . ."Sorry mate, I don't swing that way anymore."

"Anymore. . . .?"

Giles quickly cut off that line of questioning. Spike's sexuality wasn't something that was fit for discussion either in private or public.

"Will you dance with me Cordelia?" Giles asked holding out his hand, and was extremely gratified when Cordelia slipped her fingers into his.
 

I can feel the magic floatin' in the air
Being with you gets me that way
I watch the sunlight dance across your face and I, oh I've
Never been this swept away

Giles led Cordelia through the assembled crowd to the grand foyer where a dance floor had been set up. He placed one hand on the small of Cordelia's back, and cradled the fingers of one of her hands in his own.

All my thoughts just seem to settle on the breeze
When I'm lying wrapped up in your arms
The whole world just fades away, the only thing I hear
Is the beating of your heart

"Mmmm. . . .I think I know why I'm so glad I came." Cordelia practically purred as she fit perfectly into Giles' arms.

"As am I." Giles smiled in contentment. All was right with the world at this very moment.

And I can feel you breathe, it's washing over me
Suddenly I'm melting into you
There's nothing left to prove, baby all we need is just to be
Caught up in the touch, the slow and steady rush
And baby, isn't that the way that love's supposed to be
I can feel you breathe
Just breathe

 
 

In away I know my heart is waking up
As all the walls come tumblin' down
Closer than I've ever felt before and I know and you know
There's no need for words right now

I can feel the magic floatin' in the air
Being with you gets me that way

 
 

"Thank you for coming tonight Cordelia. You made what would have been an intolerable evening most enjoyable." Gallantly he lifted her knuckles to his lips. "Oh, you're really welcome." Cordelia's grin was brilliant. They really did have a good time at the gala. The wine, the dancing. . .all of it she'd been through a million times before, but never with the same enjoyment that being at Giles' side gave her.

But there was one small problem, no matter how closely they danced, no matter how many times their bodies brushed against one another, Giles *STILL* was determined to keep his inner walking hormone in check.

"You know, I think I'd like a cup of tea. Do you think you could make a pot while I hop in the shower? Some clumsy waiter spilled a little champagne and this dress will be ruined if I don't get it out soon."

Removing his tuxedo jacket, Giles nodded, focusing on his answering machine, rather than the mental image of Cordelia naked under a cascade of running water. "Of course. You go on, I'll start the tea." Once Cordelia turned to her own apartment, Giles unbuttoned his cufflinks, and a few of the studs of the tuxedo shirt.

Next door, Cordelia quickly kicked off her shoes, and went about setting a romantic atmoshpere. She lit a candle only to have it blown out again. "Phantom Dennis. . . please?" This was so not going to work if she had to worry about Dennis dropping a bucket of ice water on Giles. . . ."Please be a good roomie and go next door and watch T.V and drink some of Giles' really good scotch." She turned her pleading eyes upward. "Pretty please? I promise to get ESPN and the Playboy Channel. . . . ." This time when she lit the vanilla scented candle, the flame was met with no resistance, and she could feel a cool breeze brushing past her towards Giles'.

Quickly she ascended the steps to her small bedroom. Running a cool shower, Cordelia plucked a pink and white striped box from the bag in her closet, and opened it, running her fingers over the material of the teddy inside. If this didn't break Giles' resolve, then her old theory from High School was right. The man was dead from the waist down.

Next door, Giles absently scratched at his chest as he prowled his apartment. One would think with as little sleep as he was getting, that it would be easy to wind down. Not as long as his dreams starred one beautiful woman who was making it her life's work not only to drive him to distraction during the day, but to the brink of madness at night as well. Thinking of her continuous teasing, Giles groaned. The incorrigable minx was testing the limits of his self-control.

Hearing the tea kettle whistle on the stove, he crossed to the kitchen, and pulled it off the burner.

"Giles?"

"Water's ready." He answered, feeling shivers run up his spine at the husky sound of her voice. He came out of the kitchen with a cup of tea in his hand, to find Cordelia standing in the doorway that connects their apartments and promptly the cup slid from between his fingers unnoticed.

Her eyes never leaving Giles' face, Cordelia shrugged the pengior slightly off one shoulder to reveal the entire cream colored satin and lace teddy. Taking a deep breath, Cordelia finally settled on the words she needed. "I want you now. And I wanted you yesterday, and I'm going to want you tomorrow too. But I can't do all the admitting, all the wanting Rupert."

He could barely make sense of Cordelia's words as all the blood in his body concentrated between his legs.

"If you want me, you've got to meet me half way."

Giles felt the steady rise of his desire. He'd known that this was inevitable since the spell had been cast. And he understood Cordelia's desire to make him admit his own wants and needs. They were equals. She'd offered herself generously, and now he had to do the same.

Stepping back into the kitchen, Giles grabbed a towel, and returned to the broken teacup and spilled tea on the floor.

Cordelia held her breath. She couldn't believe that he was going to deny them *both* what they wanted. "Stubborn. Stupid. Old. Idiotic. Insensitive. Jerk. Two faced. Eunuch. Self-righteous. Sexless. Impossible man!" Her muttered words were cut off in mid-rant by the sight of Giles walking towards her purposefully.

When he was finally standing directly in front of her, Cordelia noted the passionate, wild look in his eyes and gulped.

One of Giles' hands cupped the side of her face, curving into the dark mane that tumbled wildly about her, the other moving from her bare shoulder, down the satin covering her entire body. When he was done lightly skimming the teddy, his hand cupped the other side of her face, holding her perfectly still while his lips inched closer, and closer.

First, his mouth grazed over the highly sensitive spot just between her jaw and throat, scraping his teeth lightly over the soft flesh there. Giles smiled softly as her head fell back as far as his hands would allow, offering him her entire delectable throat with such innocent abandon he was tempted to devour her where she stood.

Ruthlessly he tamped down on that urge, knowing full well that there might never be another chance for them. That he may never have the opportunity to worship her the way a woman of strength, beauty, and honesty deserved.

So instead of taking her up against the wall, Giles traced her soft, wide mouth with his thumb, delighting in the smokey haze that flashed through her eyes. "Cordelia. . . "

On tip toe Cordelia moved closer, twining her arms around his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder and sent her tongue out in a teasing flick before whispering. "If you stop I'll set fire to all your books. . .I'll give your name to every telemarketer. . . .I'll tell everyone that you called out Spike's name. . ."

Cutting off her interesting litany of threats with his mouth, Giles took advantage of her gasp, and slid his tongue between her lips. In a quick, easy motion, his arms caught her behind the knees and shoulders, cradling Cordelia against his chest. Looking at her seriously in the soft light, he offered one last chance for sanity to intervene. "You can still say n---" Giles felt her fingers press against his lips before he carried her over the threshhold and up the stairs to her bedroom. Slowly he let her body slide against his as he set her on her own two feet.

When her hands lifted to the straps of the teddy she wore, Giles shook his head. "Oh no Luv. I want to open my own present." He removed the crisp white tux shirt, and belt before coming to stand before her barefoot and only in the tuxedo pants.

"Present?" Cordelia sighed taking in the sight of his broad, muscled chest with its golden skin, and whorls of hair.

"Oh yes." Giles' fingers lifted the straps of the enticing garment, easing them down milimeter by milimeter. "You're the most lovely present I've ever recieved. The kind of present one never expects to recieve."

When the satin and lace slid from her body, Cordelia stepped closer, not wanting to give him time to see her.

"Luv. . ."

"Giles. . .I'm not. . .I have." Cordelia cursed her thick tongue for being unable to form any intelligible words with the feel of Giles' warm body against her own. "I don't want you to be disappointed because your 'present' is kind of . . . .damaged."

Instead of answering, Giles pulled back from her clinging embrace and held Cordelia by the shoulders, walking her backwards to her bed. Once she was nestled among the pillows, Giles came down beside her, solemn in spite of the heated blood coursing through him. "I can promise you that I will be many things tonight Cordelia, delighted, entranced, moved beyond words, but I sincerely doubt that 'disappointed' will fit anywhere in my vocabulary."

A small smile graced her lips as Cordelia licked them. "Show me?"

"With pleasure."

* * * * *

The first thing Cordelia noticed as her body stretched languidly into wakefulness was that she was alone. Her entire body went taut as she pushed herself up in the bed, her hands automatically going to her stomach, thankful to find it still flat.

Giles had left her alone. Even after knowing everything that happened the last time she woke up alone, he'd left her. Son of a bitch.

"This is why I hate men with a pulse Phantom Dennis." Refusing to wallow in self pity, Cordelia pulled on a long midnight blue satin robe, and pinned up her hair.

Moving to the bathroom she hopped in and out of the shower, and brushed her teeth.

Once she was downstairs, she could hear the sound of the Scoobies coming from Giles' apartment, and a tiny little devil whispered in her ear. If Giles thought he could just ignore what happened between them. . . .If he thought she would LET him ignore what happened between them he was seriously delusional.

Not giving herself time to re-think her idea, Cordelia dropped her robe, and opened the door seperating the two apartments.

"Oh Rupert my love? I think I left my clothes over here last night." She cooed walking directly into the livingroom stark naked. She walked directly past Buffy, Willow and Tara who were speechless. And past the chair where Xander's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head. Spike was generous enough to offer a standing ovation, but it was Giles' reaction that made it all worth it.

Wide eyed, he practically leapt over the counter dividing the kitchen from the livingroom. "Cordelia!" He snagged the afghan off the back of the couch and approached her with it.

"Guess I didn't leave my clothes here after all." She side stepped Giles, and turned, her head held high. "Thanks for the good shag Rupert. But I think I've had enough of Sunnydale for a while."

One of Giles' hands whipped out, caught her arm and hauled her back against his chest, ignoring the rapt audience. Quickly he wrapped the blanket around her body, and shook her at the same time. "What's gotten into you?"

"You!"

Spike leaned over and nudged Willow. "This is better than Passions."

"Cordelia. . . .I understand how you're feeling right now. But the spell is broken. You're young. . .you've got plenty of time to find someone more appropriate. . ."

Everyone was stunned when Cordelia's fist connected with his jaw, sending the watcher sprawling on the floor.

"First off, let me tell you something you arrogant bastard! I don't like being told how I 'feel'. If you had any idea how I felt you wouldn't have left my bed this morning. If you had any idea how I felt you wouldn't be acting like such an ageist right now. Secondly, I'm leaving Sunnydale *NOT* because of you, but because of me. I'm not going to stay where I'm not wanted."

When Giles moved to stand up, Cordelia shook her head. "If you stand up I'm only going to hit you again." She warned seriously. "So when you get a clue, when you realize that everyone in the world has someone to share their life with but YOU, when you miss me so much that you can't eat, sleep, think or breath without seeing my face feel free to come to L.A and get me. I only hope for YOUR sake that it's not too late."

She pointed at Spike. "If I wait until sunset will you give me a ride back to L.A?"

"Over my dead body. . ." Giles protested.

"Okay FINE! When I show up red eyed on Angel's doorstep I'll let YOU explain to him why I've been crying!" Cordelai shot back. "I bet Wesley and Angel would LOVE that!"

"Sure ducks. I'd be glad to ride you anywhere you want to go. . ." Spike grinned wickedly.

"I don't think so Mr. Fangless Wonder." Xander growled. "I don't trust you. I'll give Cordy a lift back to L.A."

"I don't think that's a really brilliant idea either Xander." Cordelia declared haughtily. "As angry as I am with the male population, I might let out some road rage about the way you treated me. And I don't think any of us want to go there. Spike's safer than you are."

"Yeah. It's not wise to send a boy to do a man's job." Spike sneered. "I'll pick ya' up at sunset sweetheart."

"Don't call her that!" Giles snapped in irritation before turning back to where had been standing seconds ago. "Cordelia. . ." Was all Giles got out before Cordelia slammed the door between the two apartments.
 

Angel Investigations

"Shh ducks."

"NO! Don't wanna 'shh!' I wanna be loud!"

"Come on be a good girl. . . ."

"But ish so much more funner to be a bad girl!" Came the fairly slurred reply, followed by loud, fairly off key singing.

No one said it had to be real
But itsh gotta be shomeshing you can reach out and feewl now
It ain't right, it ain't fair
Cashtles fall in the shand and we fwade in de air
And the good girls go to hweaven,
But the bad girlsh go everywhere
Good girlsh go to heaven,
But the bad girls go everywhere

"Bloody hell! The whining was bad enough. . ." Spike shook his peroxide blonde head back and forth. "But she's a Meatloaf fan!"

"Meatloaf's good. . . but Giles' tastier." Cordelia leered as she stumbled over her own two feet.

"Luv. Feel free not to tell me that." Spike groaned easing her into the elevator. Actually he had to give the former cheerleader credit. It had taken an all night pub crawl to bring her to this disgusting state. And she'd be feeling it in the morning.

Cordelia twisted sinuously against Spike's grip, her entire body boneless, until she was practically draped over his arm, peering up at him owlishly. "Don't call me Luv. *HE* calls me that. I hate *HIM*!"

"I know pet. I know." Spike sighed as the elevator came to a stop at Peaches' apartment. "Last stop pet."

"Not my place. Lesh go to anudder pub." Cordelia pouted. Everything had a pretty soft look about it.

"No more pubs. You got us kicked out of the last three."

"Did not. How wash I shupposed to know there was no dancin' on the pool tables?"

Spike groaned and knocked on the steel door of Angel's apartment. "You just stay right here pet, I'll be seeing you." The last thing he wanted was to face his pissy sire and explain why he'd gotten the girl falling down drunk.

"NO!" Cordelia complained. "SPHIKE! COME BACK! COME BACK SPHIKE!"

When Angel yanked open the door forcefully, Cordelia stumbled forward and would have hit the floor were it not for Angel's quick reflexes.

Hauling his seer up, Angel took one look into her bleary eyes, and could see that she'd be sick as a dog in the