Home / Fan Fiction / Angel / Epiphany / The Next Step

Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe of the rights of Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy or any other copyright holders of Angel.

The Next Step
by The Brat Queen

Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.

Rated: PG

Summary: Angel and Wesley both talk with others about the next step in their relationship.

"I'm just saying there's options," Cordelia told Wesley as the two of them side-stepped around a family of holiday shoppers. She paused, putting a hand to her head. A wave of nausea washed over her. "God."

Wes touched her elbow gently. "Cordelia?"

She shook her head, wishing she could somehow keep herself from focusing on the scent of vanilla that wafted over from the Cookie Shack in the food court. It mingled with her vision hangover and made her want to throw up.

"Is there anything I can do?" Wesley asked. He bent down to look at her eye to eye. "The headache's no better, is it?"

"No," Cordy said. She moved over to a stand of potted plants and took a few cleansing breaths. "Just - give me a sec. And maybe a bottle of water?"

"Of course," Wesley said. "Unless you'd rather I took you home?"

"No," she said, firmly. "I've only got three presents left to get and I'm buying them today, stupid vision or no. Just - grab me some water. And maybe stand downwind? Because right now your aftershave is not doing me any favors."

"There's not much of a wind in a mall but I'll do my best," Wes replied. He put the shopping bags he was carrying by Cordelia's feet and merged into the flow of the crowd. A few minutes later he returned with her second-favorite brand of bottled water. "This was all they had."

"It's perfect," she said. She twisted the cap off and took a few cleansing swallows, holding the cool liquid against the roof of her mouth for a moment to help ease the throb behind her eyes. She checked her watch. Forty minutes left until she could take more pills. "Okay. I can do this. We need to get up to the third floor. And I still say it's a dumb idea."

Wes frowned at her as he picked up the bags again. "Cordelia, I would be more than happy to assist you with your shopping at some other time."

She made a face at him. "Not shopping, doofus. Shopping is always a good idea, especially when the stores are doing 50% off holiday sales. What is a dumb idea is you and Angel moving in together."

Wesley nodded as he recognized their original topic of conversation. "I know it may not seem wise - "

"No, you buying Obsession for Men wasn't wise."

"If you don't care for my choices of cologne or aftershave products by all means enlighten me with the appropriate Christmas gifts."

"Already have," she said, taking another sip of her water. "That's what I bought when you were off making goo-goo eyes at the Sharper Image window display."

"Oh," Wesley said, glancing down at the bags. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Be that as it may," he continued, "I think your concerns about my new living arrangement are more pressing."

Cordy took a moment to look at some dresses near the entrance to Saks Fifth Avenue. "I think my concerns are pretty obvious. And this in blue would make a great gift for me."

"I'll bear that in mind," Wes said dryly. "Cordelia - it's not as though I'm unaware of the dangers."

"Well be more aware of them," she replied. She craned her neck to find the nearest escalators. "The kind of aware where you don't end up dead."

Wesley helped a woman retrieve a toy that her toddler dropped, then continued walking beside Cordy. "It's no more danger than I'm currently in."

"Which is a huge load of comfort to me," Cordelia said, "really."

"You didn't veto the idea of relocating the office," Wesley pointed out.

"Because at the end of the very long and often painful day," Cordy said, "we can go home. To our nice cozy apartments. Where vampires don't live."

"Perhaps," Wesley said, getting on the escalator. "Except that when you go home you spend time with Dennis, whereas when I go home I often bring Angel with me - or I abandon the pretense of going home altogether."

Cordelia blinked. "Really?"

Wesley nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. They got off the escalator and she tugged him in the right direction.

"I don't know," Wes said slowly. "Perhaps because I feared my relationship choices would lead to lectures about my personal grooming habits?"

"Shut up," she replied. "You deal with the world of perfume when it feels like your brain's been taken out and put in backwards." Someone walking by with a bag of what smelled like rose potpourri proved that point to her all over again. She took another few sips of her water. "You could have told me."

"I wasn't aware it was a thing to tell," he said. "It's not as though it was a formal decision. Rather…."

Cordelia looked over at him as he trailed off into silence. "What?"

Wesley shrugged, pushing his glasses up against his nose as they slipped from their usual position. "It's the way things are."

"Tell me."

Wes became quiet again. The sounds of the mall faded around them, muted except for the sound of piped-in Christmas music. "I love him, Cordelia."

For some reason Cordy felt tears in her eyes. She blinked them away, blaming her time of the month. "Oh. Okay."

"It's probably not the wisest thing I've ever done," Wesley said, as though agreeing with her earlier comment.

"Not like you did it on purpose," she said. "The relationship with the rich girl with the weird family was on purpose. And, I'm guessing, your crush on me." Wesley flashed her a quick smile. "Considering how well all that turned out it's probably for the best that you stopped picking your dates because apparently you wouldn't know your type if it walked up and gave you a written invitation. I'm thinking that would have lead to a pretty boring life."

"True," Wesley said.

"And it's not like there's a lot of people in this town willing to put up with the hours we keep," Cordelia continued. "Or the fact that we often come back from work covered in slime and stuff I don't even like to think about. Granted, interoffice romances don't tend to work out well and it's not like Angel's last - um - "

Wes gave her a supportive look. "It's all right, Cordy."

Cordelia had no idea how Wes could be so casual about the "B" word. She decided to abandon the topic altogether. "All I'm saying is - he's not an entirely stupid choice." She looked over at him. "And he's nuts about you."

"I know," Wesley said, smiling gratefully.

"It's just…" Cordy tried to think of options other than Wes leaving his apartment. "Isn't there something else you could do? Something safer?"

Wesley shrugged. "Angel and I are together often enough that my flat is little more than a commute and a formality. And if he were to turn again there is a multitude of things he could do to harm me even if I rescinded his invitation. Although we will create a room in the hotel that is mine alone as a precaution."

"You might want to consider bondage as a lifestyle choice too," Cordelia added. "It'd be hard for him to come after you if he's already in chains." She groaned, seeing the look on Wesley's face. "Don't tell me."

He smirked at her. "As you wish."

"These are mental images I do not need," she told him. "You guys are like family to me. Except for the part where you sign my paycheck which, all things considered, makes you even better than family to me but you get my point."

"You introduced the topic of conversation," Wesley protested.

"So? You should know better than to follow up on it," she retorted. She caught sight of the art supply store that was on her list. "Come on. Let's finish up here and go back to my place for hot chocolate and pain medicine."

"Could I have whipped cream in mine instead?" Wes asked.

"Shut up," Cordy told him. "God - get laid on a regular basis and suddenly you're a comedian. Just for that, you get to make it."

"All right," he said. He looked over at her again. "Cordelia - are you certain that you're content with this?"

"No," she said. "In fact I've got a big plate of uncertain with a side order of screaming night sweats on the way. But… Angel's calmer when he's around you. I'd even say he's happy. I don't know what you've got going - and I don't want to know because again there's those mental images I really don't need - but it's working. For now. I just hope 'now' is a really long time."

"As do I," Wesley agreed.

"I'm telling you man - Los Angeles s'posed to be hot."

Rondell took a long drag from his soda. Technically they were done hunting vamps for the night, but he kept himself alert all the same. "It's December," he said.

"So?" Gio asked, pulling out three fries from his own McDonald's sack and scarfing them down. "We get December in Miami too - doesn't mean it gets cold. I'm gonna have to buy me some sweaters."

"George can hook you up with some," Rondell told him. "Ask him tomorrow when he gets back from church."

Gio nodded in approval. "Cool." One of the other members of their group motioned for some fries and Gio handed them over wordlessly.

Rondell watched his group out of the corner of his eye. There were three new members in it - including Gio - but so far it hadn't been the cause of any problems. They knew how to fight and liked how much more they could do with a team.

Rondell approved of it.

Enrique stepped forward. "We got time to check out the Carson warehouse? Joy said she saw some shady types hanging out there today."

"It's clean," a voice said as a tall shadow appeared in the light. "At least - it is now."

Rondell stopped, holding out a hand for the rest of his gang to stay back. He handed his soda over to Enrique, taking the moment to size Angel up as he did. He hadn't seen the vampire in months and he wasn't surprised to see that he hadn't changed.

It was Angel who broke the silence. "Rondell," he said. His brown eyes flickered over the rest of the group. "And - everybody."

"Charles isn't here," Rondell said, levelly.

"Who's this?" Gio asked.

"Friend of Gunn's," Enrique explained. Gio frowned, then nodded as he placed the name.

"I know he's not here," Angel said. "That's why I came. I need a favor."

Rondell raised his eyebrows as though the comment interested him. "Maybe you didn't hear me - Gunn's not here."

"Yeah, I know," Angel said. He walked forward, holding out his empty hands in a gesture of peace when a few members of the gang tensed and touched their weapons. "I need to ask you a favor." Angel looked at the group again. "In private?"

Rondell weighed his options. He decided to grant only part of the request. "Wait here," he told the boys, then gestured for Angel to walk with him a few steps away. It wasn't far from the group, but it was far enough that someone speaking in a low voice would have privacy. Once there he pulled a stake out of his pocket and regarded the vampire once more. "I got a piece of wood here that says you've got five minutes of my valuable time."

"That's all I need," Angel said.

"Then speak."

"I need you to kill me."

Rondell tried not to show his surprise. He felt the weight of the stake in his hand, part of him instinctively ready to draw it back for the killing blow.

Angel must have noticed. He again held his hands up peacefully. "Not now."

"Then I suggest you should have come later," Rondell said.

"I need you to kill me when I can't ask you to do it," Angel replied. He gestured for patience. "Look - I don't know what Gunn told you about me -"

"Very little that I cared about."

Angel accepted that. "But the short version is I have a soul. That makes me do good. That puts me on your side."

Rondell didn't dignify that with an answer, but made it clear from his expression that it wasn't something he agreed with.

"Fine," Angel said. "Keeps me from killing people, how about that? Gets me fighting the good fight - whatever. Point is it means I'm not evil."

"So?"

"So - sometimes I lose it," Angel said. "Certain things can make me lose it. Make me turn evil again."

Rondell felt the stirrings of curiosity. This was the most he'd learned of Charles's boss. "Like what?"

"That's not important," Angel said. "What is important is…. it could happen. It can happen. And if it does - I want your word that you'll stop me."

"Get your fancy monster-hunting detective agency to do it," Rondell said, unable to keep a note of bitterness out of his voice.

"It's not mine anymore," Angel said. "It's Wesley's."

Rondell wondered if that meant Gunn was working for the Englishman now. "Okay, then hire them to do it. Why do you need me?"

"Because you will," Angel said. "Wes - all of them - might hesitate. Might try to save me, give me my soul back."

"And that's not happy ever after?" Rondell asked.

Angel shook his head. "No. Because while they're trying, I'll be hunting. And killing. And worse. You hate me now? I'm worse without the soul. Worse than you can even imagine. One second of that part of me roaming this city is a thousand too long. I can't let that happen. That's where you come in."

"Okay," Rondell said, indicating for the vampire to go on.

"I want you to keep your ear to the ground," Angel said. "You hear anything - a whisper, a rumor, a dream somebody has once about me turning - come after me. Aim right for the heart. Don't ask questions, don't give me a chance. Believe me, I won't deserve one."

It was on the tip of Rondell's lips to ask what if Angel's soul was still in place, then he realized he didn't care.

"I realize this is extra work for you," Angel continued, "but - "

"It's my job," Rondell interrupted. "Hunting monsters is what me and my boys do."

"I can pay you."

"I wouldn't touch your money to save my life."

Angel nodded. "I figured. Do I have your word then? If I turn, you'll kill me? No more turning the other cheek?"

Rondell shook his head. "No. What you and I have is an understanding. And the understanding is that I am always coming to kill you because you are a vampire who shouldn't be allowed on this earth. Right now I'm willing to take my time about it because my boys have bigger problems. But if I hear that you step outta line? We will be coming after you until there's not enough left to sweep under the rug."

"Good," Angel said, putting his hands into his coat pockets. "That's exactly what I want."

"Then it sounds like we're done," Rondell said, putting his stake back in his pocket. "Please give my regards to Charles when you see him."

"He can't know about this - about our understanding," Angel said. He looked over the waiting group. "They can. They should. The more coming after me the better. But if Gunn knows - he might try to stop you. Or tell the others and they will."

"You so sure anybody would care enough about your evil side to try?" Rondell asked pointedly.

"No," Angel said, starting to walk away. "But one of them might care enough about my good. Don't tell anybody. And - thanks."

"None needed," Rondell replied. He stayed where he was until Angel had long faded back into the shadows.

Gio came forward. "What's that about?"

Rondell shook his head, rejoining the group. "I really don't know."

Fin.