Another Cordelia/Angel fic. This one I kinda know where I'm going, but other fics have gotten in the way of completing this. Note: Part 2a and 2b are the same story, but 2b is the end of the story, whereas 2a is the begining for the moment.

Extract 2a

Blood.

Red and warm.

Heat against the chilling cold of his mouth, his lips.

Like a hot drink on a cold day, it filled his mouth, his throat, his chest.

Cherry red, and delicious, made more so by the chilling fear within it.

- - -

He woke in his apartment, sometime towards midnight. The last thing he remembered it had been daytime, as boring and dull as ever. He frowned as his mind cleared. What had happened?

Absently he began to sit up, collapsing with a thud as his body began it's orchastra of pain.

His shoulder was dislocated, the bones rubbing and cracking against each other. Blood trickled down the side of his face from a wound that had not healed yet.

His right arm was slashed in about seven different pieces and his flesh struggled to knit together around the gapping holes where chunks were missing.

A large gunshot wound had buried a gun deep into his lower stomach, which wasn't bleeding to bad. He needed to get the bullet out though, before it could heal.

His legs were mainly scraped and bruised like the rest of him, with a serious knife wound, slashing and digging, across the back of his right leg.

All in all, it wasn't pretty. He closed his eyes, faint for blood, wondering if Cordy was missing him. She would be down soon, to help him mend his shoulder, and bring him blood from is fridge. To fuss and potter asnd annoy him.

But she didn't come, adn as it neared day, the soulful vaire picked himself up, clicked his shoulder painfully into place and went to find his family.

- - -

Doyle glanced in the rear view mirror, ever more aware of the hurt young woman in the back. He was driving without direction, no plans except away. Far, far away.

Cowardice, he knew, but what else could he possibly do. They needed help, he didn't know what he was doing. He was perfectly fine as he was, drinking, gambaling, passing out, all the things young men should get to do in peace. Then came the visons. Then Angel and the Princess and then. . . well. We all knew what happened next in the not-quite-so-fairy-tale-ish-story.

He sighed as the sun rose, lighting the road. A few more miles before they reached a very special place in his bosses heart. A few hours here, the on. As far away from that monster as possible.

- - -

Angel looked at his apartment in shock. Destruction everywhere. Clothing decorated the roomj like tinsel, furniture was snapped and thrown to the four winds. Weapons lying casually about, soon stained with blood, human and demon and vampire, mixing together.

- - -

Extract 2b

He clutched her upper arms as she seemed to shrink into the wall behind her. Every line marring her face, every whimpered noise from her thin, pursed lips screamed fear, and he didn't understand it. He and Cordy were best friends, family, and she shouldn't be afraid of him.

Why was she?

"Cordy. What the hell happened?" His voice was low and deliberate.

"You. . ." Came the whisper as it faded out, and he felt his anger at her rise again. She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes and suddenly

she was beneath him, pinned, struggling

helpless, screaming

he held her by her hair, forcing her down

blood, warm blood trickling from his mouth

his hands tearing clothing

laughter

screaming

whispered sobs and he moved above her

and between it all, binding it with and invisable thread, an emotion, powerful and clear.

Pleasure.

Angel backed away, breaking contact, yet it did not clear his mind. The flood of memories weakened him and Cordy grabbed for him as he began to fall.

She couldn't stop him, of course, but she broke the fall slightly and they fell together, tumbling to the ground with an echoed thud. He placed his hands over his ears, but the screams did not diminish.

Neither did the laughter.

"I . . " his voice was harsh. "Was that me? . . . Did I . . . . " He looked up, unable to finish the sentence. "Cordy." He pleaded, tears forming. "Cordy, how. . . why. . . I'm sorry."

"I know." She said, her eyes locking on his, her warm hands on his cold arms. "I know."