Raven reminded me after Spike's Bad Day that Cordelia would never
forgive anyone who touched her makeup. So what does happen when she finds
out her lipstick is missing? Thanks again to Spyke Raven for the excellent
beta experience.
*******
I like red, I do. Because I'm a bloody vampire and blood's the essence of my existence. Like all its shades--pink and foamy when you rip some sod's lungs out, dark red when you slice through a jugular vein...fat lot of use it is for me to think about it though when I can't even bite, due to this friggin' chip in my head. Get reminded about how good it tastes in situations like this. Red in every tone and shade all over this counter here right in front of me.
I like sparkley things too. Lots of sparkle here. Smells interesting too. Faint waft of sandalwood, but it's overwhelmed by all the rest. Smells like every woman I've ever known. Funny, can even smell Bellodgia, one of the favorite scents of my Sire's snooty dam . There's vanilla like Buffy uses too....and Tea Rose...like.....I turn back to the lipstick.
Preternatural hearing can be a problem in a place like this. I can screen out the chit chat, but that piano is a pain. It's tinkling away at some loony classical bit one floor up in the men's department. I can't tune it out completely, because I know the Ponce is up there looking into silk designer shirts, so my senses are aimed up the escalator and smack into that part of the second floor. I want to be there too. Like being in the fitting room when he's trying on stuff. Always have to help him. It's just nicer for both of us, if I take his clothes off. Funny how everybody else always finishes up what they're doing and leaves when we come in and start changing. Takes us awhile to shop due to that, and some clerk always has to come in and tell us in a quavering voice that it's time for us to leave cause the store is closing.
But I got to stay here tonight. Orders from the Prom Queen. He goes up the elevator looking wistfully back at me, but we both know I'm here till Her Nibs gets through buying whatever she wants. I blow him a kiss. It's 8:30 in the evening and I know this is going to be a long 45 minutes till the closers start creeping around throwing us all out by 9:30. Not fair to vampires, never get more than an hour or so to shop between sunset and closing.
Haven't regretted much in my life, but right now I wish I didn't use Cordelia's lipstick to graffiti up that copper's car the other night. She sees the article in the paper this evening about the way some thug painted up a police cruiser at Cop Lady's apartment house during the time the Queen was helping Angel do the big rescue. Picture of the car is in color on the front page too.
She gets suspicious when she goes looking in her coat pocket for her lipstick and it's not there. She remembers putting it there. She never forgets where her make up is at any one time. Next thing I know we hear her on the elevator, and then she's storming into the bedroom, paper in hand. Angel is sitting up in bed with the sheet around him, reading Demons of the Southern Himalayas: a study of the courting rituals of the early first century A.D. by some chit from UCLA . I am dozing on my stomach with the rest of the covers around me except for my right arm which I just slid under the sheet and across Angel's hips, thighs, belly, cock and testicles, so I know he's only pretending to read as of right now.
In she comes like the Queen Mary under full steam. "Spike, get up, I want to talk to you." I say, "What, now? Sod off. Things were just getting interesting under these sheets."
She says in a low, evil, but still drippy sweet tone of voice, " Please come out here. I need to discuss something with you and it won't wait."
There is a warning in her voice and I'm thinking she might have checked those coat pockets, so I roll over and glance at Angel. He is looking at her and he's slightly annoyed. He was liking the direction my hand was moving.
"What's up, Cordelia?"
She gives him a sugary smile. "Just something between me and Blondie here. It will only take a minute."
I get out of bed on the wall side and walk around, hard on where she can see it clearly. Would phase most women, but not Cordelia. I grab the black robe, slide it on, but don't close it and walk out of the bedroom with her following. Angel is looking curious, but he avoids confrontation with the Empress whenever he can, so he just sits there watching us go, neck craning as we disappear around the corner.
In the kitchen she says nothing, just slaps the paper down on the table and points to a picture on the front page. It's that bleeding police car with my aesthetic sense of style all over it, in living color, red, pink, purple smoke, and black cherry. I look innocent, robe still open and all my good parts hanging out. She's not taking the least bit of notice; she can focus when she's pissed. She doesn't say anything, because she knows the Poof will hear, so she takes the pocket of my robe and pulls it open and points down into it and then holds one hand up to her mouth and acts like she's putting on lipstick. I fold one arm across my chest and with the other I toss my hand and shoulders, cock my head, and lift my eyebrows like I'm saying, "What?" with my body.
She stamps her foot, clenches her fist and glares. I shrug. No use denying it. I look down and think for a beat. Then I look up at her again and nod. She gets this smirk on her face like she knew it all the time. Then she leans forward and mouths , "We go shopping tonight.!" She snatches up the paper, stamps her foot again and marches to the lift. She turns around and scrinches her upper lip and gives me a look from under her eyebrows like she's thinking about the crossbow. I nod OK. Sod it.
I go back in the bedroom. He looks up from his book.
We have one hour till sunset and shopping. I take off the robe and sit on the edge of the bed. That book is in my way. I reach up and pull it away from him. I like how easily he lets it go. I close it and set it on the night table. He's already forgotten she was here, though I'm sure he'll remember later. Got to be sure she ditches that paper. I lean over and kiss him. He grins through the kiss and cups his hand over my dick. His long, smooth fingers slide over my balls and circle around my cock and then again, and I sink against his chest and lick his neck and his nipples and his collar bone. I nip him in the chin and take his lower lip into my mouth. He pulls me up onto his lap and hugs me close. I kiss his ears and he kisses mine. Then our mouths meet again and our tongues entwine and we're fucking each others faces like there was no tomorrow and no shopping ever again. God He tastes so good, so slick and hot and he's mine, my sire, my lover, my snarling, growling, moaning, gasping reason for being. I grab the sheets and yank them out from under me and off him and straddle his belly. His smooth chest with the expanse of muscle and those shoulders and brown gravy eyes filled with desire and longing look into mine. I lift myself up and come down to his cock my ass open and ready. He reaches for the lubricant sitting on the electric heating pad, and covers himself and the rim of my ass with warm jelly. I come down on him slowly, stretching my opening as I go. He bucks and makes a soft cry. I begin moving up and down and the pleasure grows and we are both moaning . He takes my cock in one hand and pulls it against his chest. I grip his shoulders and look deep into his eyes and they blaze back, two wildfires burning into me. His soul and my demon collide and merge and we erupt together, me spilling onto his chest and him into my ass. We sink closer, bodies clinging, arms around each other, neck to neck, ear to ear. Our fangs seek out the veins and pierce the skin and together we suck and share and suck and....sweet, sweet, red fullness and I come again before I even know I'm hard. He lifts his head and pushes me away so he can lean over and lick the cum off my chest. His tongue, his tongue, his tongue. My head falls back and I lean away, arms slumped at my sides. He licks slowly, thoroughly and I whimper over and over. He pulls me to him again and we are together, neck to neck, ear to ear. He touches my shoulder with his fangs, but they rest there. I can feel the sharp points against my skin, claiming me. One of his fingers finds my opening and slips lazily in and out. Feels like silk moving over my prostate. I kiss him on the back of the neck and nip down, sucking a little, then smoothing over the bite with my tongue, healing him.
We lie still for a long time. Then I look over at the clock and realize that the shopping expedition is nearly upon us. I push away and he lifts his head, vamp face gone now and he smiles sleepily. I brush my hand over his hair and smile impishly at him. I say, "Love to stay, Mate, but got to go. Promised to take the Princess shopping. Fancy a trip to Nordstrom's?"
He looks mildly interested. "Why not?" he says. "I'm low on shirts." I grin. He is, mainly because they don't stand up well to floors of any kind, such as lifts, cement garages, the office hardwoods, or the bathroom tiles when we get in the mood. I say, "Silk really isn't the most sturdy kind of material." He looks at me fondly. "Neither is cashmere or, for that matter, leather." I get up off him and off the bed. "Well we better get you some new duds then, Pet."
We get up, take separate showers to keep from starting the sexy stuff all over again and get dressed. Ten minutes later we hear Cordelia upstairs and go up to meet her. I walk in to the outer office first and she greets me with a big smarmy smile. "Ready? Oh, Angel, are you coming?"
Angel says,"I think I need some things."
She says, "Well, I want Spike's advice about some new lipstick. He was telling me earlier about how much he likes red. So I am going to keep him with me until we get through in cosmetics, then you can have him."
Angel looks cross, so I say, "Won't take too long, Pet. Did promise Her Ladyship that I'd give her a hand." She narrows her gaze and I feel tiny stakes coming at me like little psychic darts.
We go out to the car and she gets in the front seat passenger side. I am beyond arguing with her. I just get in the back and sulk. Good at that. We finally get to the mall and get the car parked. One of those nights when you have to walk forever cause the entire City of Angels is out shopping.
Cosmetics is on the first floor as we go under the arch from the lobby into the store. Angel heads for the escalator and rides up turning around to look wistfully back at me. I give him a wave and follow Cordelia to the facial clinic section. Do women have some kind of face disease that needs all these treatments and cures and heavy duty scientific attention? She takes her bloody time looking stuff over. I wander around the counter then maneuver my way to the entrance about 30 feet off and look out around at the mall. There's a coffee counter built in to the wall and tables strewn about on my left. I get a cup of latte which shoots my five bucks cash, wander back to the cosmetics counter, set the cup down and light a cig. Before I can get a draw, a sales clerk comes down the length of the counter.
"Good evening, Sir. I am sorry, but we ask that customers keep food and beverages in designated eating areas of the mall. Also we thank you for not smoking in the mall at all." She is amazing. I stare at her because she has figured out how to get that pancake stuff perfectly smooth between and around each eyelash. Each bleeding eyelash is an island surrounded by beige plaster. I gawk at her. She says, "Sir?"
I collect myself. I say, "And thank-you for filling me in on the fascist regulations dumped on innocent paying customers by your friggin' establishment. Now sod off."
She draws herself up. "Sir, there is no need to be rude. We are simply protecting all our customers as well as our products, and state regulations regarding smoking are quite clear." I lean one elbow on the counter, the elbow with the hand holding the cigarette. With the other I pick up the coffee and take a swallow. "Listen, Ducks." I say. " I am waiting for the young lady at the other end of the counter to choose some lipstick, so I can get the bloody hell out of here. If I leave, she leaves, and you are out of God knows how much for a bunch of stupid red, waxy, smelly paint sticks at 12.00 apiece. So I am going have my coffee and my smoke and you are going to mind your own bloody business."
She swings around on her three inch heels and minces out from behind the counter and heads toward the security guard at the entrance. Cordelia comes around the aisle, her eye on the sales clerk and the security guard. "Whatever you did, I'm not leaving this counter until I have interest on four lipsticks which means I get two more besides what you owe me."
The sales clerk is heading back our way with the guard. I set the cig on the glass surface, duck down and lean over the counter with the coffee cup hoping that the open purse tucked under the stool by the register belongs to her. I shove the stool to one side, pour the coffee into the purse, pull the stool back in place, crush the cup up in my hand, and toss it up onto the designer dried pod and wheat flower arrangement up above the storage cabinets. I grind the fag out on the counter and shove it under the Fun with Color display (including the nudes, tawnies, pinks, and violet shades).
Cordelia saunters back down to the lipstick.
The guard is just behind the Queen of Customer Service. They stop in front of me. The guard says, "Sir, it is store policy to leave food outside and state law to exclude smoking. If you can't accept the rules, then it will be necessary to ask you to leave the store. He is about two inches shorter than I am but weighs about 50 pounds more and I can see he probably hits the gym once a month whether he needs to or not. I bet he can call for back up with his little walkie talkie too. I say, "You must be mistaken. I don't have any coffee or cigarettes. You got the wrong guy." The sales clerk glares at me. Her top eyelashes have so much mascara on them that she looks like a moth.
I say, "Well, I'll just be off." I look down the counter at Cordelia. "Going upstairs a moment, Love. Be back in few." I nod to the guard. I smile charmingly at the clerk. I walk toward the escalator and then feel an hand slip around my elbow.
Cordelia says, "Oh no you don't Buster. Get back here. I'm not through and you have to pay for this stuff."
Sod it. I shrug her hand away and turn around and follow her back to the lipstick. I keep my eye on the Moth though, because I am not sure how long it will take for her to discover the mess in the purse. I play with Angel's American Express card in my pocket. Cordelia has got the tops off every tester within 6 feet.
I look around. Perfume in shiny glass, in frosted glass, in polished metal, in wood , in fancy paper with leaves in it. Smells everywhere. A bloke could get asthma hanging out in a place like this. Specially a vampire with a super sensitive nose. Then I notice the bath section. Bubble bath, now that's something that might just be interesting. Keeping my eye on Cordelia and the Bug, I sidle over to the tub and shower section. I see four types of bubbly stuff right away that I think the Ponce might like. There is a different clerk behind this counter so I give her the credit card and she puts the four bottles in a pink bag. She hands me the slip and a pen. I sign it " Angel Jones." She checks the signature. It looks OK to her. It better. I practiced till Angel said it looked right. Never paid for anything before living with the Ponce, just took whatever I wanted. Nauseating to have to go through all this, but it's one of the requirements of me staying on in LA, so I do it.
Next I go over to the men's cologne section. There it is. Knew I caught a whiff of it from somewhere. Sandalwood City. Angel's favorite. I buy two boxes of woodgrain soap, three bottles of foaming bath gel, two sets of shampoo and conditioner, lotion, aftershave, massage oil, incense and a box of candles. That ought to keep the Poof from brooding between shags. The brand has a hyphenated name like Wyndam-Price. Bunch of toffs. I sign the credit card slip. I notice a tall, good looking dark haired woman in a gray business suit with a briefcase looking at me from the aisle with the gloves and scarves. I give her a wink. She smiles briefly, looks away and wanders off toward the escalator. Bet I'm the best item she's come across all evening.
I look around some more. At the next counter I read up on why exfoliation is good for my complexion. I get a couple loofahs, a jar of apricot facial scrub, some foot soak and some special foot massage oil that has pepper in it that promises to make Angel's feet warm up while they're being rubbed. Then I notice the display of bath beads. They come in seven different colors and fragrances, twenty to a box. I get two boxes of each.
I look over at Cordelia. She is staring at me, hand on hip. She waves. I go over. She is looking at my packages with arched eyebrows and a smirk. She is holding six lipsticks. I shove the card at the Moth and sign the slip.
I say to Cordelia, "Free at last?" She smiles. She says, "Go on upstairs and get him something that isn't black. The store closes in 20 minutes. Meet you by the coffee shop outside in 18 minutes."
"Uh, better yet, if we don't show up in 19 minutes, take the car and go home." She throws her head back and groans, "Oh, no. I'll never be able to set foot in this store again." She pushes her hair back with her hand and looks around, and then finally back at me. "OK, go on. Nineteen minutes is all you get. How do you even know there are tunnels around her that will take you home?"
"Not your worry, Pet."
"Ok. I won't worry. I won't stay up all night wondering whether you're trapped in the store. I won't be thinking about them throwing you out into the sunlight in the morning. And I refuse to think about what the two of you are doing all night in the largest department store in LA. I am not going there. And I am definitely not thinking about the huge furniture department with all those mattresses. You better both be out front in 19 minutes."
"Seventeen now, Love." I take off for the escalator. The piano player is just folding up the cover to the keys in anticipation of closing. He ambles off toward the "employees only" door to check out. Place seems empty otherwise. Odd.
Angel must be in one of the dressing rooms, because I don't see him on the floor. Then I see a salesman straightening ties. I ask him if he's seen a tall, dark haired guy in a black duster. The salesman turns around and I see he isn't a salesman. He's a customer--no name tag that says he's pleased to be of service. I say, "Oh, thought you were the help. Sorry."
He smiles a lazy smile. "No, I'm not the help. Who did you say you were looking for?"
"Tall, dark haired guy with a black coat, a duster. Probably looking in the black silk shirt section."
"As a matter of fact, I think I did see someone like that. I noticed him because he didn't seem to be feeling well. In fact I almost asked him whether or not he was all right. He seemed to have a headache. Kept holding his hand to his head." Alarms are going off all over my arms and legs and in the pit of my stomach. I look closer at this dude. Something familiar about him, but I don't exactly know what it is. Too good looking, brown hair parted in the middle, hangs down over the sides of his face. Sensuous lips, probably a good kisser. He is looking at me languidly now. He smells evil.
I say, "Oh, it's probably nothing. He gets headaches. I'll check the men's room." I know where that is, but I'm not sure I'm going there. I start in that direction though. I can feel that bugger watching me as I go. I get around an aisle that has designer socks and I don't think he can see me, so I check back. He has moved out into the main aisle and is eying me. We stand and stare at one another. The floor is pretty empty of people. I walk back to him. "Where is he, you sod." I say.
"We just want to talk to him." he says.
"Who does?" I'm guessing, but I want to hear him say it.
"I represent a law firm. Wolfram and Hart. Any chance you might just be William the Bloody?"
"Spot on, Pet. Now where is he before I tear your head off and string one of these J. Garcia ties through your dick."
He sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. "From what I've heard, your ability to knock heads around has been severely restricted." I am enraged, but, if this is who I think it is, then I have a plan. I say," OK, so, you know about the chip. What's it to you?"
"Well, we were wondering. You've done some damage in your time. Some damage whose cleverness, degrees of sadism, violence,and, may I say resourcefulness in the face of overwhelming goodness , has largely gone unappreciated. We would like to remedy that. "
"How?" I say. I rest the bags on the floor and fold my arms like I'm listening.
Then he does it. He takes his right hand out of his pocket, and, just from old habit he gestures with it to continue making his point. Faster than he can follow I rip it off his arm. He screams. I heave it over the escalator railing and down to the first floor. He screams because I tore the wires, and because the stump has not healed completely and because he's spouting ruby red stuff all over the floor. He gasps and pants and holds it with his left hand. I smile. I love red, especially now when it surges out of one this bastard's arteries.
"Don't believe everything you hear about chips." I say. I take a step toward him. He falls back. "Where is he?" I say. This bastard is afraid, but he can still function...for a few more minutes. One of those hot shot types who tells himself that fear and pumping gouts of his own hemoglobin won't stop him getting what he wants. He pants out, "We just want to talk to him. He's all right."WHERE?" Then I hear voices coming from the fitting room. I snarl and flash into game face. I run back through the ties and slam myself through the door.
I see Angel sitting on a round couch in the middle of the room. He is holding his head and there's red on his hair and neck. The sight of his blood sends me into a frenzy. Two men and that dark haired woman from the scarf section, who I winked at, stand in front of him. Should have known there was more to her than some bint out for the evening without hubby. They whirl around and see me. The two men go vamp face, so I know I can take them. The woman disappears down a hall way and I hear her heels clicking on the stone floor as she runs. The two vampires come at me, but I don't have time to beat the shit out of them. I gut punch the first one and smash my shoulder into the second one. They go down. I run to Angel. He looks disoriented. I say, "Come on, Pet, let's get out of here." He gets up and we move past the two fledglings on the floor and out the door. I see the bastard who set this up holding the stump close to his side and the cell phone in the other hand. He's talking rapidly saying, "It's not true, he can attack humans. I don't know how, but he can." He's got a tie wrapped around his arm as a tourniquet and he stops talking when he sees us. I take Angel by the arm and hurry him forward. As I look around I spot Cordelia standing at the top of the escalator looking around. Didn't trust us with even 17 minutes, did she? And couldn't just leave. I grab the bags from the floor. Apparently the gang didn't have much in the way of back up. I push Angel toward Cordelia and yell to her to take him downstairs. He heads her way. Then I realize I was wrong about the back up. I see six more vampires and a Fioral demon come out of the fitting room on a run toward us. That dark haired bitch must have sent them. Angel has almost reached Cordelia who has her hand out toward him and is looking concerned.
The first two or three vamps come past the ties. I hear Cordelia yell, "Spike, run!" That electrifies Angel. Poopsie's in trouble. He turns around and his face morphs. He starts back toward me. I pound into the one who reaches me first and then Angel is there. We are back to back now and vampires are flying everywhere. Cordelia grabs a walking stick from the cane display and charges into the guy with the stump. She is screaming at him. He backs away protecting his arm and then runs to the escalator and hurtles down it four steps at a time and then falls and rolls to the bottom. There are about three damaged vampires still standing and the demon is down holding his stomach. Angel throws one of the the vamps onto the top of the piano, grabs the walking stick from Cordelia and stakes it. Two to go. They stop and look at us. Then they back up toward the fitting room and fade through the door. We stand still. Angel's face normalizes and he sits down on the floor with a groan holding his head. I stoop down to get a look at him. He looks at me and says,"It's OK. They hit me from behind with a crowbar. Head hurts, but it's getting better."
I say, "Cordelia, get the bags, Love."
I pull Angel to his feet. He needs to get home, rest. She doesn't argue even though it's usually me who carries the stuff . We ride the escalator down. There is blood all over the steps and the rubber mat at the landing. Lindsey is nowhere to be seen, but I see great drops of luscious crimson making a path to the archway and into the lobby of the mall. I glance into the lipstick section. Moth Woman is holding her purse and gesturing into it to the security guard, too absorbed in her soaking wallet to notice Lindsay seeping scarlet down the aisle. I am more afraid of these assholes than the worst of Wolfram and Hart. I tell Cordelia to move it. We sneak by the lipstick and out the entrance as sirens scream in the distance.
By the time we reach the car, Angel is better. He tells Cordelia how well she handled herself. She gets a kick out of that. I have to grin. She can be hell on wheels when someone pisses her off. I tell her we might be willing to have her stay on at Angel Investigations. She asserts smartly that she's the one who dreamed it up, designed the business cards, and dusts the place, plus she's in charge of the visions that tell us what to do, so that actually makes her the boss and you can't fire the boss. We don't argue.
Back at the hotel Wesley is waiting. Cordelia fills him in on everything except why she went shopping for six lipsticks in the first place . I put my packages in the bathroom. Angel asks me, "What are all those bags doing in the bathroom?"They're for us, Pet. Open them." He goes through them. Takes out all the sandalwood bottles and the loofah and arranges it around the tub.
"Nice." He says.
We sit in the tub together. I clean the cut on his head and cover it with a bandage. He rubs the woodgrain soap into the loofah and wipes it over my arm. He frowns. "What happened to Lindsey? What happened to his hand?"
"I attacked it. "
"Attacked what?"
"His hand."
"The chip didn't react?"
"Not so's I noticed."
"Hmm."
"Didn't have time to think about it too much. All I knew was that he had something of mine and I wanted it back. Figured the paw wasn't really part of him. I pitched it over the rail to the first floor."
"So, you can hurt demons and artificial hands."
"Guess so."
He starts petting my chest with the loofah. Sandalwood scent is permeating everything. Candles, incense, shampoo. The whole place smells like sodding Haight-Ashbury in the '60's. The candles give the walls a blood orange tint. I lean forward and give him a soapy kiss. The tub is slippery from the bath oil. Tried six of the little balls to see if they really got your skin soft. Probably overkill.
"I don't like Wolfram and Hart talking to you without my permission, Peaches."
"OK, we'll send them a note tomorrow and tell them that they have to check with you first before they can come calling again."
"And I promise not to sulk in the back seats of cars. Never saw those bastards following us."
He holds the top of my head, pulls it down to the side and sticks the washcloth in my ear.
"Ow, quit it." I say.
"Hold still. Stop wiggling."
I slip down into the water till my ears are covered. He gives me a long suffering look. I wrap my hand around his cock and my legs around his back and make bubbles with my mouth. He grins at me. Nothing like a bath after a hard night's shopping.