Happy Birthday, Brown Eyes
May. 8th, 2016 12:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katleeptTitle: Happy Birthday, Brown Eyetoos
Author: Kat Lee
Dedicated To: Happy Birthday,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
comlodge! May this year hold all the blessings and gifts you've ever wished for, too!
Fandom: Angel
Character/Pairing: Angel/Cordelia, Lorne
Rating: PG/K+
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 1,005
Date Written: 1 May, 2016
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
Their footsteps echo in the still building. "What's this all about, Lorne?"
"Hold your cool, sweet cheeks," the Demon who so many of their acquaintances find charming but who is steadily getting closer to his boss' last nerve replies nonchalantly. Even in the darkness, though, the Vampire can see the grin boasting on his green face. "You'll see in a minute."
"Lorne, I swear if this is another of your attempts to get us to use Wolfram and Hart's money to refurnish your club again -- " Angel grinds out in warning, fingers flexing.
But, suddenly, the words fall from his mind. The threats are gone. He can only stare. If he was a human man accustomed to air, he'd no longer be breathing, but a Vampire doesn't have that habit to show how stunned if he is. If anything, Angel looks only a little paler in the city's neon lights filtering in from the alley outside.
Lorne glances at him with a smile, his yellow eyes shining with love and kindness. This is why he took the back way into his own place. This is why he refused to tell Angel what was really happening. This is what he owes yet another personal debt for, but he can't remember ever having a debt be more worth his while and suffering -- although not really suffering. A grin catches at his handsome face. The Fates may be twisted, but they tend to know how to give a sweet, fashionable Demon like himself a little loving.
She stands, her own mouth wide. "Angel?" she asks uncertainly. Her heart would be racing at the sight of him, but she no longer has a heart to beat, much like he's never had one the whole time she's known him -- and loved him. "Lorne? What am I doing here? Not I don't want to be here. I do, but -- "
Lorne's grin turns fully on. "You're babbling, Princess," he tells her, and then he winks. "Happy Birthday, Brown Eyes." The reminder that she is gone from them and this single night is all he can give his friends between the doors of the realms makes him grow solemn and regretful again as he adds quietly, "Such as it is."
"Cordy," Angel breathes her name and finds himself suddenly able to move again. He rushes across the empty floor that once held chairs and tables and boasted an awesome dance floor, if Lorne does say so himself and he does, but he stops just short of trying to gather her into his arms. He gazes into her beautiful face instead, every bit as beautiful as she's always been to him, if not more so. He can't take his eyes away from her to call back to their friend, "Consider your establishment fully invested, Lorne."
Lorne flashes him a brilliant smile. "I'll take that thanks, Angelcakes, and leave you two children to yourselves."
"Lorne?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Can I . . . " He hesitates again, long, pale fingers flexing in the moonlight with an entirely different desire than earlier. He was ready to pummel Lorne before, but now all he wants is to feel his love in his arms again. "Can I touch her?"
"Why don't you ask the lady yourself?" Lorne counters with another wink and slips back out into the alley way.
"Cordy?" Angel speaks her name again in another choked whisper. From his lips, it sounds almost like a prayer, but he's never been the praying type. "Can I . . . ? Do you think . . . ?"
She shakes her head slowly, but her smile is still in tact even if it does waver a little. "There's only one way to find out," she answers and, being brave for them both, steps forward. She raises her hands to Angel's handsome face, feeling almost as though she's dreaming, but she doesn't do that any more. There's no need for a spirit lifted to Heaven to rest, and without rest, there are no dreams.
She gasps aloud when her fingers actually touch his cold flesh. He smiles as her fingers sweep over his angled cheeks to reverently touch his lips. "I don't believe it," she whispers, hazel eyes wide. "He did it!"
"Lorne always has been a sap," Angel answers without thinking, and it's only the accusatory flames that shoot from her eyes that makes him finish his statement honestly, "for love. Cordelia, I -- I wanted to tell you -- " But even after all this time, he still doesn't have the words to tell her everything she means to him, everything she's meant to him for so long, let alone how much he loves her.
Cordelia beams up at him. "I already know, silly," she assures him, but finally, this is her chance to tell him her own truths, "and I love you too, dumb ass. I always did." Her lithe shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "It just took me a little too long to realize it."
"Was it me," he asks, not daring to hope although this moment is everything for which he's been yearning since her death, "back in Pylea?"
Cordelia's arms slide down around his waist. She holds him close, her body sashaying against his in moves she's known well for years, having perfected way back in high school, but never once meant more. She leans closer still, smiling up at him. The stars themselves seem to her Angel to dance in her hazel eyes. "It's always been you," she tells him again, and then she does kiss him, long and deep, pouring all the love she's been holding for him alone for so long into their tender, hot kiss. Angel's tongue and lips meet hers stroke for stroke, and she sighs, elated, into his mouth. Funny, she thinks as she kisses him harder, determined to make every second of however long or short a time Lorne has bought them count to its utmost, how it's taken dying for her to have the best birthday ever.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Dedicated To: Happy Birthday,
comlodge! May this year hold all the blessings and gifts you've ever wished for, too!Fandom: Angel
Character/Pairing: Angel/Cordelia, Lorne
Rating: PG/K+
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 1,005
Date Written: 1 May, 2016
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
Their footsteps echo in the still building. "What's this all about, Lorne?"
"Hold your cool, sweet cheeks," the Demon who so many of their acquaintances find charming but who is steadily getting closer to his boss' last nerve replies nonchalantly. Even in the darkness, though, the Vampire can see the grin boasting on his green face. "You'll see in a minute."
"Lorne, I swear if this is another of your attempts to get us to use Wolfram and Hart's money to refurnish your club again -- " Angel grinds out in warning, fingers flexing.
But, suddenly, the words fall from his mind. The threats are gone. He can only stare. If he was a human man accustomed to air, he'd no longer be breathing, but a Vampire doesn't have that habit to show how stunned if he is. If anything, Angel looks only a little paler in the city's neon lights filtering in from the alley outside.
Lorne glances at him with a smile, his yellow eyes shining with love and kindness. This is why he took the back way into his own place. This is why he refused to tell Angel what was really happening. This is what he owes yet another personal debt for, but he can't remember ever having a debt be more worth his while and suffering -- although not really suffering. A grin catches at his handsome face. The Fates may be twisted, but they tend to know how to give a sweet, fashionable Demon like himself a little loving.
She stands, her own mouth wide. "Angel?" she asks uncertainly. Her heart would be racing at the sight of him, but she no longer has a heart to beat, much like he's never had one the whole time she's known him -- and loved him. "Lorne? What am I doing here? Not I don't want to be here. I do, but -- "
Lorne's grin turns fully on. "You're babbling, Princess," he tells her, and then he winks. "Happy Birthday, Brown Eyes." The reminder that she is gone from them and this single night is all he can give his friends between the doors of the realms makes him grow solemn and regretful again as he adds quietly, "Such as it is."
"Cordy," Angel breathes her name and finds himself suddenly able to move again. He rushes across the empty floor that once held chairs and tables and boasted an awesome dance floor, if Lorne does say so himself and he does, but he stops just short of trying to gather her into his arms. He gazes into her beautiful face instead, every bit as beautiful as she's always been to him, if not more so. He can't take his eyes away from her to call back to their friend, "Consider your establishment fully invested, Lorne."
Lorne flashes him a brilliant smile. "I'll take that thanks, Angelcakes, and leave you two children to yourselves."
"Lorne?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Can I . . . " He hesitates again, long, pale fingers flexing in the moonlight with an entirely different desire than earlier. He was ready to pummel Lorne before, but now all he wants is to feel his love in his arms again. "Can I touch her?"
"Why don't you ask the lady yourself?" Lorne counters with another wink and slips back out into the alley way.
"Cordy?" Angel speaks her name again in another choked whisper. From his lips, it sounds almost like a prayer, but he's never been the praying type. "Can I . . . ? Do you think . . . ?"
She shakes her head slowly, but her smile is still in tact even if it does waver a little. "There's only one way to find out," she answers and, being brave for them both, steps forward. She raises her hands to Angel's handsome face, feeling almost as though she's dreaming, but she doesn't do that any more. There's no need for a spirit lifted to Heaven to rest, and without rest, there are no dreams.
She gasps aloud when her fingers actually touch his cold flesh. He smiles as her fingers sweep over his angled cheeks to reverently touch his lips. "I don't believe it," she whispers, hazel eyes wide. "He did it!"
"Lorne always has been a sap," Angel answers without thinking, and it's only the accusatory flames that shoot from her eyes that makes him finish his statement honestly, "for love. Cordelia, I -- I wanted to tell you -- " But even after all this time, he still doesn't have the words to tell her everything she means to him, everything she's meant to him for so long, let alone how much he loves her.
Cordelia beams up at him. "I already know, silly," she assures him, but finally, this is her chance to tell him her own truths, "and I love you too, dumb ass. I always did." Her lithe shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "It just took me a little too long to realize it."
"Was it me," he asks, not daring to hope although this moment is everything for which he's been yearning since her death, "back in Pylea?"
Cordelia's arms slide down around his waist. She holds him close, her body sashaying against his in moves she's known well for years, having perfected way back in high school, but never once meant more. She leans closer still, smiling up at him. The stars themselves seem to her Angel to dance in her hazel eyes. "It's always been you," she tells him again, and then she does kiss him, long and deep, pouring all the love she's been holding for him alone for so long into their tender, hot kiss. Angel's tongue and lips meet hers stroke for stroke, and she sighs, elated, into his mouth. Funny, she thinks as she kisses him harder, determined to make every second of however long or short a time Lorne has bought them count to its utmost, how it's taken dying for her to have the best birthday ever.
The End
