AUTHOR: SCORCH (aka JUDE)
SUMMARY: Dew doh whad id’s like habing a cold?
POSTED: 13 Jul 2009
WARNINGS: None Listed
FICPIC CREDIT: N/A
1) Yes, a CLEAN fic from me! Remember it cos it doesn’t happen often!
Angel held up the earrings, watching as the light reflected the rainbow. He smiled a smile of sheer fascination, turning the jewellery this way and that, watching purple turn to indigo, then watching that indigo blend into violet. It was pure luck he’d found them last night, literally pure luck.
He’d just done a quick sweep of downtown Los Angeles when he’d come across a store that was closing. They’d had a pair of earrings on sale and he’d known without a doubt Cordelia would love them, really love them. The stone was amethyst and the cut was teardrop, nine carat gold with a platinum claw.
Apparently the person who ordered them didn’t like them because there was a tiny scrape in the gold Hallmark, which was also the reason for the sale. They would have been just under a hundred dollars, but he’d got them for just over sixty.
Cordelia was going to love them.
She mouthed off day and day out about diamonds being a girls’ best friend, but he knew her better than that. To a woman like her, diamonds looked like expertly cut glass and tiny paperweights. Sure they were expensive and the hardest substance known to mankind, but they were also boring. They lacked colour and personality.
A diamond was not in anyway Cordelia Chase.
Well, he thought as he put the earrings back into their box, not the common ones. There were two known red diamonds in the world, both owned by private collectors. There were also pink, blue, green, and yellow ones.
Yellow ones were, funnily enough, the most common. They were known as industrial diamonds and used in workshops throughout the world.
He’d once held over seventeen carats worth of diamonds in his hands at one point when he worked at a factory in England, but they weren’t worth a penny. They had been cut and filed so they were able to a job nothing else could do. File, cut, grind.
So no, a diamond wasn’t Cordelia Chase at all.
Now when he’d seen the two tiny amethyst tears, he’d known instantly that they were what she’d love. He didn’t expect a thank you, knowing he’d be forgotten the second she saw them, and he was more than fine with that. In fact, he couldn’t wait to see her face.
Angel popped the box into the shiny gift bag and bit his lip while grinning. His eyebrows moved up before becoming settled in their usual position.
Hiding the gift bag behind his back, the vampire left his bedroom and walked to the landing over looking the lobby, his happy little grin still firmly in place.
The lobby was as always. Big and spacious, a dying plant they were all trying to save, a circular sofa in the middle, and a large counter that hid Cordelia’s desk.
Grin widening, Angel jogged down the stairs and greeted his friends. “Morning.”
“Uh,” they both replied, both concentrating on holding hands.
The vampire arched both brows when he saw two thumbs at war. “Who’s winning?”
“Me,” both men equally replied.
“No you’re not!” Again the reply was equal.
“Now, hang on,” Wesley stated, pulling his hand away to take off his glasses. “I won the first five rounds.”
“You did not!” Gunn denied with a scowl.
“Yes,” the Brit stated vehemently. “Yes, I did.”
“You so did not.”
“I bloody well did!”
Angel rolled his eyes before glancing at Cordelia’s desk and frowned.
It was empty.
Empty as in empty. No seer to be seen whatsoever.
There was no purse, no hairbrush, no packets of Big Red gum, no cell phone…
There was no Cordy.
Angel forced his face into a neutral expression. “Where’s Cordy?”
Gunn raised his right wrist and looked at his watch. “Damn!” He swore, stamping his boot off the floor, then glaring at the vampire. “You couldn’t have waited one minute? I’m down five dollars and you owe me, man. You owe me!”
“I believe that’s what is known as karma,” Wesley spoke calmly and held out his right hand. “That’ll be five dollars if you don’t mind.”
The vampire was confused. “I owe you?” He asked Gunn. “Why do I owe you?”
Gunn shook his head. “Have you ever heard the words shut up?”
“Put em to good use.”
“I was only asking a question!”
“That question cost me five bucks. Dude, you gotta learn to keep up.”
Keep up? “I’ve just come down!”
Identical expressions were exchanged between the men, but it again it was Gunn who spoke. “Yeah, and your question was…?” His hands gestured in the air.
Angel mimicked the hand movements. “Where’s Cordy?”
“By Jo,” Wesley sarcastically commented. “He’s got it.”
“So where is she?”
“No he hasn’t,” the Brit corrected.
“She’s not coming in,” Gunn grunted as he fished his wallet out of his back pocket, looked in it, and then looked at the Brit. “You got change for a twenty?”
“Fifteen says I win the next four rounds of thumb war?”
Silence reigned while the bet was thought over. “You’re on.”
“Guys!” Angel got between them, holding up his hands to draw the battle lines. “Anyone remember Cordy? Brunette, eyes that make you feel the size of a flea, about yay tall?”
“How could we forget?” Wesley muttered. “So, thumb war?”
“I’m missing my seer and you’re playing childish games?”
Gunn’s dark brown eyes rolled heavenwards and was about to speak, but a glare from behind a set of specs shut him up.
As did the hissed words, “He’ll make us go over there.”
“Good point. She’s ran off to Vegas with her neighbour.”
Angel wondered when Cordy started selling her ability to give him headaches. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Isn’t her neighbour a seventy-three year old woman who still thinks the world’s flat?”
“Doesn’t mean she can’t play a mean ass game of Black Jack.”
The vampire shook his head. “Wes, why isn’t she coming in?”
“What he said,” the ex-watcher pointed to the street kid.
“Fine, fine,” Angel smiled benignly and innocently put his hand in his pocket. “I’ll just call and ask.”
Before either man could say or do something to stop it, he was speed dialling one on his cell. It rang a couple of times before a croaky voice accompanied a loud sneeze. The vampire held the phone away from his ear and glared at the two sheepish men. “Cordy? Just me.”
“Urgh, Aidgel!” She sniffled. “I hab a cold.”
“So I hear,” he grinned in both sympathy and amusement at how his name came out. “I’ll send Wes and Gunn over, keep you company.”
“Doh! God, doh. I’b biserable eduff widowt hearig those two whinding in by ear.”
It took a moment or two for him to figure out she was telling him not to send their friends to keep her company. “You’re sick and they’re playing thumb war. What do they have to whine about?”
“Dothing yet, bud gib it sub days.”
Angel had to laugh. Bogged down with a fuzzy head and stuffy nose and Cordy still had it in her. “You go to bed, I’ll send these two over with soup or something.”
“Uh-uh,” Gunn started backing away.
“I can safely say not a chance,” Wes started inching towards his office.
“What? Why? She’s sick. She needs someone to take care of her. I can’t go. The sun’s out.”
“Dude, she’s contagious!”
“Oh for…” Men were such babies. None at the hotel saw her lips curl into an evil little smile and only Angel heard her voice drop. “Wadda see subthig fuddy, Aidgel?”
He turned his back to the guys to hide his bemused expression. “Go for it.”
“Hold duh phode away…”
Cordelia faked a cough. A terrible, horrible cough that belonged more to an old man who’d spent sixty years smoking three packs a day. “Dow say how ubbelievably sick I sound.”
Angel quickly caught on and once again faced the guys. “Now that is a nasty cough.”
“I doh… Urghugghugghhhhhh…!”
He watched Wes and Gunn exchange frightened looks.
Then Cordelia sneezed a very fake, very sneezy sneeze that had him nigh on cracking a rib trying not to laugh. “Oh, Aidgel. I’b sooo sick. Cad dew hear dis? Urghugghugghhhhh… Aaaadddeeewwww…!”
He winced and hissed. “You have it really bad. Are you sure you don’t want Wes and Gunn to come over?”
“Oddustly, yes. They cad brig be sub soup add extra tissues. Oh, add bore cough syrup with sumb flu capsules. Cos it’s flu, Aidgel! FLU!”
Angel blinked once and both fully grown men had fled for their lives. One ran for the streets while the other ran into the office and locked the door.
“They god yet?”
Cordelia’s hell sent flu suddenly disappeared, leaving her giggling like a naughty child who got away with the whole cookie jar. “Cowards,” she said affectionately, then genuinely coughed. It was only a little cough, but enough to make her groan in irritation. “Sub cough syrup wouldn’t go abiss.”
Angel quickly went over the tunnel system in his head. Dodging the sunlight would be close, but he’d dodged worse in his years. “Listen,” he said, already moving to grab his jacket. “Why don’t you make yourself comfy? I’ll be there in a little while.”
Cordelia didn’t get a chance to protest as he hung up.
“Right,” he said and headed for the basement. “Medicine, food, Cordy. In that order. Wes, I’m taking off,” and paused long enough to hear a sneeze and a sarcastic response.
“Send her my thanks, would you?”
Angel shook his head. “Pussy,” and continued on his way.
It was a little under two hours later when Angel arrived carrying a couple of bags. One full of food, three different kinds of soup, freshly made and piping hot from the Deli, plus hot chocolate and some chips. The other half full with cold remedies and man-size tissues. Not the cheap tissues, but the ones that came aloe vera and extra moisturiser.
He gave paused at the door before announcing himself.
“Deddis, I’b find. Oddustly. I dode deed bore blankets. I deed… I deed… Urgh!”
The vampire couldn’t stop his smile. Poor little thing. He opened the door and stuck his head round. “Knock, knock.”
Watery hazel eyes glanced his way then immediately darted to the curtains that were wide open. She opened her mouth, but didn’t even have to ask and Angel found himself chuckling.
The extra blanket Dennis had been offering Cordelia was dropped right over her head as the G H O S T went to close the curtains, which lead to a set of arms scrambling to get rid of it.
A human set of shoulders appeared in the curtain material and it waved to Angel before the shape disappeared. He was once again reminded that just like himself, Dennis had been a person.
Despite the fact the shape was gone and a hand holding a bag full of cold remedies, the vampire waved back.
Now the sun was blocked, he could fully enter her apartment, and the second the door was closed was the second Cordelia gave up the fight with the blanket. She let it drop on top of the others she had and he watched her entire body just sag.
He fought the urge to grin.
“Wad are dew doig here, Aidgel? Duh sund is owt.”
“I heard a friend needed some some syrup.” He put one bag down in order to reach into the other for the syrup. Holding up the bottle of purple liquid, he shook it before reading the label. “For all types of cough.”
Cordelia looked at him as though he was God. “Aw, Aidgel. Thang dew. Dew are duh bestest fribend eber.”
It was him and Cordy, with no Gunn or Wes…
Angel wondered how often he could make her sick.
Even if his name was Aidgel.