The bickering had been going on non-stop for most of the day. The morning had started quiet enough, with Wesley comlimenting Cordelia on her new dress and Cordy thanking Wesley for bringing her favorite donuts. Angel had hopes for a pleasant day. But, those hopes were dashed soon after, during the "staff meeting".

"I am NOT going out on surveillance at that club again with 'Mr. Fashion Disaster' here until he learns how to dress more...well, non-Wesley like!" Cordelia announced, defiantly.

Angel groaned inwardly. 'Not a great way to start a meeting. Typical, of course, but not great.'

Wesley was sputtering and looking indignant, from the other side of the table.

"Yes, well, at least I haven't had to resort to shopping the bargain racks at Walmart."

At Cordelia's sudden blush and frown, the eyebrows of both Wesley and Angel shot up and they looked at each other in surprise. Wesley had inadvertently stumbled onto the truth. They young man looked quite pleased with himself, but, upon a frown from his employer, changed his expression to one of innocence. His eyes were still twinkling though.

Cordelia remained somewhat subdued (for her anyway) and the rest of the meeting went smoothly, but the bickering began again soon after, and continued for the rest of the day. First it was what to order for lunch, followed by jabs at Cordy's lack of cooking ability, and so on.

Angel didn't really understand why they argued so much. He knew deep down his two friends really cared about each other, and besides, he often noticed Wesley looking at Cordelia, when she wasn't aware of it.

'Hmmm, now that would explain a lot.' A thought was beginning to dawn on him. 'For a hundreds-year old vampire, you'd think I'd pick up on these things quicker.' He smiled to himself. Suddenly, his peace and quiet was shattered once again by a loud *CRASH*, followed by a wail from Cordelia.

"Wessssllleeeyyyyy!" (She always did have a way of annoyingly whining that word whenever she was upset with him.) "I just bought that plant. Can't you pay attention to where you're going?!"

"Well, whose brilliant idea was it to put a plant stand in the middle of the room, anyway?" Wesley retorted, trying to wipe the worst of the dirt stains from his white trousers.

Angel sighed, put down his book, and peeked his head out of his office door. His two employees swung toward him, both trying to give their version at the same time.

"If you think I'm going to clean that mess up..." Cordy began.

"It's not my fault she..." Wesley chimed in.

"ENOUGH!!" Angel roared, game face on. He wasn't that angry, but sometimes it came in handy, to get his point across. Most of the time he found these two amusing, but today they had gotten on his last nerve. "I don't want to hear it anymore!"

Stunned silence followed, and Angel gave a final glare before calming himself.

"Alright. All I ask is for a little peace and quiet around here. OKAY?" He pointedly looked at first Wesley, and then Cordelia. They both nodded, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Good. Now, why don't you two go downstairs and...uhm...inventory the weapons cabinets. I want names and descriptions, in order, by weapon type." 'That should keep them busy for a while.' He smiled to himself. "Oh, and cross reference by country of origin." He turned briskly and went back into his office quickly so they wouldn't see him grinning. He could still hear them though, as they headed for the elevator.

"Now see what you did?" whispered Cordelia, poking Wesley in the ribs.

"ME?!" said Wesley, forgetting to be quiet already.

Angel sighed again, and looked at his watch. 7:30. "I need a change of scenery," he mumbled to himself. He grabbed his duster and slipped out of the office, without the others even noticing.

******

Wesley had stopped to gather paper and pen, and a few books. "Aren't you going to need these to write everything down?"

They got on the elevator and Wesley pushed the DOWN button.

"What makes you think I'm going to be the one doing the writing...oh wait, I forgot my purse." She pushed the UP button.

You aren't going to need any makeup down there..." as Wesley pushed the DOWN button again.

There was a sudden sound of grinding gears, followed by a shuddering of the elevator and then there was no sound or movement at all.

"What did you do now?!" an exasperated Cordelia pushed uselessly at the elevator buttons.

"I don't think that will do any good, Cordelia. I believe we're stuck for the moment."

Ignoring him, she continued to push the buttons, more frantically now.

"ANGEL!!! HELP!!! I'm stuck down here with Wesley! You've gotta come get me out!!"

"Well, thank YOU very much." Wesley grumbled. When there was no immediate response from above, Wesley checked his watch. "It's after sundown so I suppose Angel has gone out for a bit. I'm afraid we will have to wait for his return." And he sat down on the elevator floor. 'Trousers are already ruined.' He eyed the dirt stains still on his pantleg.

"Well, don't just sit there. You're a guy, or so you tell me, so do something mechanical already. Get us out of here."

Wesley decided to ignore that last insult. "All right. What would you have me do, equipped as I am with only a ball point pen? Really, I was trained as a Watcher. I am not McGyver." All those late nights of watching old reruns on tv could come in handy now and then.

"Well, if you'd let me go back for my purse..." she trailed off, knowing deep down he was right. She looked with distain at the rather grubby looking floor, gave an exasperated shrug and flopped down at the other end of the elevator. For a moment they just looked at each other, like two boxers in their corners, waiting for the bell signaling the next round.

Wesley turned and peered thru the bars of the elevator door. He was trying not to think about being trapped in a small enclosed space, but he could feel the panic starting to rise. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears already. He had to think of something - anything - else. He glanced at Cordy again. She had pulled out a nail file from somewhere and was pointedly looking anywhere but at him. Perhaps if he were to read one of his books. He opened the top one and tried to concentrate on the words on the page, instead of the walls around him.

Cordelia peeked up at him. 'Oh, that is just like him. Reading a book at a time like this.' She was beginning to wish she hadn't been quite so snippy before. Talking would certainly pass the time quicker, even if it was to "Mr. Book Smart."

"So, uh, what'cha reading..." She was trying to sound casual. "A little Anne Rice?"

Wesley eyed her over the top of his book. Cordelia had shifted around, so that her slender long legs were stretched out, brushing lightly against his leg. She was twirling her hair around her finger in that engaging way she had. And she was smiling. That did it. He could never stay angry with her for long, especially when she smiled at him. He sighed and put down the book.

"Actually, it's called 'Thirteenth Century Daemon Weaponry of Eastern Europe.'" He smiled at the face she made. "I confess. It's a pretty dry read. I only brought it with me to help with the inventory."

"Yeah, look at the bright side. At least we won't be stuck down there in those cabinets all night with those icky cobwebs and filthy old weapons. I really think Angel could hire a housekeeper to clean up now and then."

"Ah, yes. I can hear it now," Wesley adopted a somewhat falsetto voice,"Mr. Angel, what are you doing with all these deadly weapons?...Why is your refrigerator full of blood?...Why did you turn into a big pile of dust when I opened the blinds to wash the windows?"

Cordelia giggled, in spite of herself. "I suppose you've got a point there. It would be hard to explain the whole 'grrrr' thing."

There was a long awkward pause, as neither could think of anything to say to the other. "Ahem", Wesley cleared his throat. He was suddenly very thirsty. Cordelia looked at him, rather expectantly. The young man tried to think of something clever, and failed. "So, ah, where do you think Angel has gotten to?"

"Well, with our luck he's back at that club we were at last night, trying to find a witness to that dismemberment the other night. Yuck! Why do demons have to get all disgusting like that? Can't they just kill and be done with it? Like I want to have to look at body parts lying all over the place."

Wesley smiled grimly. "Yes, well, at least now you'll be saved the embarrassment of being seen in public with me again tonight. What am I again? I believe it was 'Mr. Fashion Disaster'."

'Now why does he have to remember absolutely everything I say?' Cordelia did feel a little bad about that remark she'd made earlier. His taste in clothing wasn't really that bad, for an uptight British guy. He was beginning to loosen up a little, with fashion advice from her, of course. For some reason, he'd set her off this morning. A thought tickled the back of her mind, but she pushed it firmly aside and put on her extra-friendly smile.

"Oh Wesley," she drawled, in her extra-friendly voice. "You know I was just kidding this morning. Stop taking everything I say so seriously."

He eyed her suspiciously. He knew that tone of voice and that smile and they were generally not to be trusted. Still, she was almost apologizing.

"Hmmmmm. Well, I suppose you're right. I thought that perhaps I had done something to make you angry with me. Glad to see I was wrong."

The thought was back in Cordelia's mind, and she couldn't help herself. "Well, there was that one thing about last night..." A little voice inside her was telling her to stop talking, but it was too late.

Wesley drew himself up sharply. "What about last night?"

"At the club...We were supposed to be posing as a couple out on a date, so we could keep an eye on that bartender, weren't we?"...I just thought you were making a bit of a fool of yourself with that blonde bimbette, that's all."

"We were also there to discover any potential witnesses to the crime." Wesley replied, indignantly. "I thought she was a rather sweet young woman," he added.

"Oh, pu-lease. Did you see that dress? And those shoes? She had 'slut' written all over her. I'm just trying to offer you a little advice here."

"You're a fine one to talk. You had men practically falling over each other to give you their phone numbers! I fail to see what this has to do with you being angry..."

A light bulb went on in Wesley's head and his eyes got as big as saucers. "You were JEALOUS!" he exclaimed, half accusing and half amused, pointing at her for emphasis.

Cordelia leapt to her feet. (Not easily done when sitting on the floor of an elevator, but she managed.) This had been what the little voice had been trying to warn her about. Now the voice was screaming 'Deny! Deny! Deny!'

"You don't know what you're talking about. You were the one who was jealous!" She eyed him closely. That idea hadn't occurred to her until she'd said it out loud. "You were, weren't you."

Now it was Wesley's turn to look uncomfortable. he felt at an incredible disadvantage, so he stood up too. This conversation wasn't going well at all.

"You're the one that was practically chasing me, when we were back in Sunnydale, you know." 'Yes, good. Put her back on the defensive, until you can think your way out of this.'

Cordelia knew that was going to come back and haunt her someday. While her brain was busy being astonished at the realization that she really HAD been jealous when she saw Wesley talking to that pretty blonde, her mouth kept on going without her.

"I was still in high school then. I didn't know what I was doing. Really, I can't imagine what I saw in you back then. I mean, you were pretty wimpy, and you weren't a very good Watcher. Look how Faith turned out."

She'd gone too far. How could she have brought Faith into this, after what the rogue slayer had done to her former watcher. Cordelia could see the hurt in Wesley's eyes, as he stiffened and stared at her, too stunned to talk. His mouth was hanging open slightly, like a silent "oh", and he was clenching his fists. Were those tears in his eyes? He turned away from her, without saying another word.

"Wes, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it!" she blurted out. "You were right. I WAS jealous and I didn't want to admit it." She couldn't stand looking at that back, knowing she had hurt him with her careless remarks. She really did care for the man. She had just never admitted it before - to him or to herself.

Wesley stared vacantly at the wall. His mind was swirling, and he couldn't organize his thoughts. Images of Faith; memories of the pain she had inflicted on him just a few short months ago; Cordelia. All these things swam together and for a moment all he felt was the pain. Not physical pain, but the pain of rejection he had felt all his life. First his father had rejected him for being too weak, then Faith, for being too stupid and pigheaded to understand her, and now Cordelia. He could hear her talking in the background but wasn't really listening.

Cordelia stopped and watched Wesley for a moment. His breathing was ragged, like he was trying not to cry. She'd never imagined that the mere mention of Faith's name could cause such a reaction in her friend. 'Friend.' She hadn't really thought about what a good friend he was to her before. He was always complimenting her, looking out for her, trying to protect her. And now she'd hurt him terribly. She went over and lightly reached out to put her hand on his shoulder.

"Wesley..." she began quietly. He flinched at her touch and she quickly withdrew her hand and backed away, tears welling up in her eyes.

After a moment, Wesley turned to face her. He had gotten his emotions back under control, at least on the surface, and his face was like stone.

Cordelia looked Wesley in the eye, to be sure she had his attention, and so that she wouldn't be able to hide her feelings from him.

"Oh, Wesley," she began again. Her voice quivered a bit, but she had to continue. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. For everything. I don't know why I said what I did. I didn't mean it." Her voice cracked, and tears started streaming down her face. Wesley's expression softened and some of the tenseness left his body. He started to speak, but she stopped him.

"No, wait! I need to say this." She couldn't look at his face any longer. She looked instead at his hand, which was still clenched in a fist. She took it in hers and started smoothing out the fingers, one by one, as she continued. "I've been terrible to you, since you came here. I know I have. And you didn't deserve it. I had such grand plans for my life when I moved out here, and you kinda represented the life I left behind. To go back to that life would be like admitting my failure." She smiled a little in spite of herself. "I know, I know. 'Cordelia Chase admits to failure? Stop the presses!'" She took a deep breath, and the rest came tumbling out in a rush. "Anyway, I never meant to hurt you...and you were right. I was jealous and I DO have feelings for you. And now you'll never forgive me, because I don't deserve it." There, she'd said it, and it was out in the open. The silence that followed was deafening.

"Have you finished speaking to my hand now?" Wesley's voice was calm, and she thought she even heard a hint of amusement in it. She peeked slowly up at his face and was drawn immediately to the tenderness in his eyes. A small smile twitched at the corners of his lips. "You're not completely to blame, you know. If we're going to be completely honest here, I was jealous as all hell last night, when you were flirting with those men at the bar. I suppose that's why I talked to that woman as long as I did. She really wasn't my type at all."

"What IS your type?" Cordy's voice was barely above a whisper. Wesley reached up with his free hand, to tuck an errant strand of hair back behind her ear and to gently caress her cheek. She suddenly realized the fingers of his other hand were entwined with hers.

"I don't think I really need to tell you that, Miss Chase." They both smiled at the name he had always refered to her by, when they first knew each other. Their eyes were locked and they were both breathless with anticipation. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Wesley leaned down and gave her the gentlest of kisses. His second one was more forceful, almost hungry. He put his arms around her and drew her to him. She kissed him back, just as passionately, almost as if it were a contest. Finally, out of breath, Wes was forced to break away. He hugged her to him tightly, and then released her slightly, so he could look into her eyes again. His glasses began to fog and he had to quickly remove them, rubbing them on his shirt sleeve.

"Damned allergies!" He tried to sound indignant. Cordelia just giggled at him and took the glasses from him, folding them neatly and sticking them into his shirt pocket. She ran her fingers through his short dark hair and pulled him to her for another kiss. He stopped her suddenly, and she looked worried for a moment.

"I just wanted to tell you, I love you. Cordelia Chase."

"I love you too, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce."

They embraced again, and were so enthralled in each other, that neither noticed the sudden jolt of the elevator, nor the squeaking of the gears, as the elevator once again began the descent it had started several hours before. They were still kissing when the elevator reached its final destination and the doors automatically slid open.

Standing there, with his mouth hanging open in surprise, was one very confused vampire.