Title: Restless Winds (1/3): Story 9 in the "Who I Am, What I'll Become" Series

Author: X_tremeroswellian

Email: X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: I *wish* they were mine, but that doesn't count. They're Joss Whedon's. The song is "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythimics. That's also not mine. However, the character Clayton Gilman is my own creation.

Rating: PG-13 for language and situations and slight sexual content

Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" with major plot give aways for the first season Angel episodes, "Lonely Hearts," and "She," the first 8 stories in this series-especially the first one, "Illusions," and one scene in here holds resemblance to one from the Angel episode, "Untouched," but was re-worked for storyline purposes. Spoilers for the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode, "Angel."

Summary: As tensions grow among the Angel Investigations team, Cordelia grows restless.

Distribution: Let me know the link. Anyone who has permission to archive the previous stories may take it without asking. Otherwise its permanent home is at the "Who I Am" site: www.geocities.com/angel_roswell/whoiam.html.

Category: Story

Subcategories: Angst/tension/friendship/romance type of thing.

Feedback: Is greatly appreciated.

Dedication: This one's for Julia. Thanks for all the feedback! :)

Author's Note: To everyone who's been reading this series, especially my fellow C/A shippers, I'm having lots of fun writing these fics. There's a long, bumpy road ahead, so hold on. :)

Restless Winds (Part One)

Cordelia stared at the clock on the wall of the Angel Investigations office. It was ten minutes after five in the evening, and she was bored out of her mind.

Wesley was slumped over at the other desk, snoring lightly.

And Angel. Who knew what was going on with him? He hadn't come into the office for three days now, and according to Gunn, he hadn't even left his suite.

Her going back to Sunnydale must have put him into major-brood-over-Buffy mode again.

She hadn't had a vision since she'd saved Dawn, and Gunn and his friends said there hadn't been much vampire or demon activity in the area lately as far as they could tell. She had even called Kate Lockley earlier to see if they were missing out on anything. Kate had told her she hadn't come across any unusual cases lately, either.

So she'd been sitting at her desk for eight hours with virtually nothing to do. For the third day in a row.

Cordelia scowled. It wasn't that she was upset about the lack of evil. She was just incredibly bored. And if there was one thing Cordelia Chase hated, it was being bored.

The telephone began to ring and she snatched it up before it had even finished the first ring. "Angel Investigations! We help the hopeless!" she said eagerly.

"Hi, it's David Nabbit," the voice said uncertainly.

"Hi, David. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. I'm having a party tonight and I was hoping you guys could come."

Her face lit up. A party. That's exactly what she needed to break her cycle of boredom. "Sounds great. What time?"

"My place. Around nine. So you'll be there?"

"Count me in. See you tonight." Cordelia hung up the phone and stood up. She rolled her eyes as she realized Wesley hadn't even moved. She debated for a moment whether or not to wake him up. She decided he looked too peaceful to disturb, so she scribbled out a note and left it on his desk. Then she went home to get ready.

Angel awoke from yet another dream of Darla, his mind confused.

Looking around his dark suite in the Hyperion, he briefly wondered if it was morning or night. A glance at his window that was covered in heavy drapes told him it was late. He couldn't sense the sun at all.
He yawned and turned over on his side. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep. Every time he closed his eyes, Darla was there. She had a way of making him forget time existed. Always had.

Except now...the dreams were getting to be so realistic, it was disturbing. He could smell her in his room even now. It was almost as if she was really there.

But that was impossible. He'd staked her himself three years ago.

Angel sat up and wondered suddenly if Cordelia or Wesley had tried to call him. He reached over to his nightstand and picked up the cell phone that lay there. He frowned when it wouldn't turn on.

Stupid machine.

He felt like hurling it at the wall, but decided against it. Cordelia would get upset, and the last thing he wanted was her anger directed at him.

Angel debated on whether to go downstairs and use the phone at the front desk, or to just roll over and go back to sleep.

The former seemed important. After all, if his cell phone wasn't working, Cordy and Wes may have tried to call him but couldn't. Of course, it also took much more energy to get out of bed, get dressed and walk down all those stairs.

With a groan, Angel forced himself to get out of bed. Yawning, he slowly pulled on a pair of black jeans and a matching long-sleeved shirt.

Then he ever-so-slowly made his way to the lobby of the hotel.

"Hey. Check it out. It's Rip Van Winkle," Gunn said, looking at him. "It's about time you got out of bed. We didn't think you were *ever* coming out."

Angel rubbed his eyes wearily. "What time is it?"

"More like what *day* is it."

He stared. "What?"

"Dude, you haven't come out of that room for three days."

"You're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding? It's Friday night," Gunn said, staring at him like he was an idiot.

"Guess I was tired," he mumbled.

"Cordelia called so many times, I almost had the phone disconnected."

"Did she have a vision?" Angel asked in alarm.

"I don't think so."

He walked over to the phone and quickly dialed her home number. On the third ring, the machine picked up. "Cordelia, it's me. Are you there?"

"It's 11 at night. If she's there, she's probably sleeping," Gunn pointed out.

When no one answered, Angel frowned. "There's a phone by her bed. If she was there, she'd answer."

Gunn raised an eyebrow, but Angel didn't notice. He was busy dialing Wesley's number.

"Hello?" Wesley answered sleepily.

"Wes, it's Angel."

"Is everything all right?"

"I hope so. Is Cordelia there?"

"No. She left a note form me at the office. Said she was going to some party Nabbit was throwing."

"Alone?"

"Well, Angel, she is a big girl now," Wesley replied wryly.

Angel tried to tamp down the sudden annoyance he felt for the former-Watcher. "I know that. Gunn said she tried to reach me."

"She's been worried about you."

"So she didn't have a vision?"

There was a pause. "No." He heard Wesley take a deep breath. "Should we expect you at the office tomorrow?" he asked, his voice tense.

"Yes."

"Good. I'll see you then." The line went dead.

Angel frowned, then hung up the receiver.

"Everything all right?" Gunn asked.

"Fine," he responded tersely. "I'm going back to bed." He didn't wait for a response. He walked past Gunn and went back upstairs.

Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?
I've traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something

Cordelia stood in the corner of the room, sipping a glass of punch and wondering what she was doing there. Had her life really gotten so overwhelming that she couldn't even enjoy a good party now without worrying if some vampires or demons were going to crash it and start killing people?

Not that she hadn't come prepared. There was a bottle of holy water and a cross tucked neatly inside her purse. But that was the point.

She had a life before she learned all these creatures of the night existed. A life that hadn't involved scoping out potential killers, or dreading mind-bending visions, or getting covered head to toe in goo from some nasty demon.

She used to have fun at parties. Hell, she always used to be the life of the party.

Now she was standing in the corner like some wallflower, checking the mirrors every few minutes to make sure all of the party guests had reflections.

She hadn't been asked to dance even once.

That was unacceptable.

Cordelia glanced down at her dress. It was a knee-length, violet-colored silk number that had been one of the only things she'd kept from her "Queen C" days back in Sunnydale. It wasn't terribly fancy, but it was far from some K-mart special. So it couldn't be the dress. She stole a quick glance in the mirror. Not a hair out of place, and her make-up wasn't smudged. She looked a little tired, but other than that...

So what was the deal?

She suddenly had the overwhelming urge to just go home, let Dennis tuck her into bed, and sleep for a couple of days. Cordelia set her glass of punch down and eased her way through the crowd until she found David Nabbit sitting alone in a chair. "David?"

His face brightened. "Hi, Cordelia. Are you having fun?"

"Well, um, actually, I was headed home." His smile left instantly, and she sat down across from him.
"Something tells me *you're* not having much fun."

"Not really," he admitted.

She frowned. "If you don't have fun at parties, why do you throw them?"

David hesitated, then sighed, looking very lost. "I just...get really lonely sometimes, you know?"

A pang of sympathy tugged at her, and she looked down. "Yeah."

He glanced around the party. "I keep thinking that I'll actually enjoy one of these things. Maybe meet some people, make a new friend. It always turns out to be just background noise. I don't even know most of these people." He frowned.

Cordelia shrugged. "You could just tell them to leave."

"No, I couldn't do that. I invited them all here. They'll leave when they're ready," David said with a sigh. He glanced at her. "I'm glad you came."

She smiled at him. "Thanks for asking me." She stood up. "I really should head home, though. I have to work early tomorrow."

He nodded. "See ya."

Cordelia nodded. "See ya." She walked away from him, sighing when she glanced behind her and saw he was staring glumly out the window. What was it that drew these damned broody, depressed men into her life, anyway? She shook her head and started for the door.

Before she had reached the threshold, a tall, good looking man wearing an Aramani suit, and who looked vaguely familiar stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "Pardon me, Miss." He stared at her, his blue eyes appraising her.

Cordelia stared right back. "What?"

"Excuse me for staring, but are you a model? No, you couldn't be. I would have recognized you. Sorry. My name is Clayton Gilman," he said, extending his hand to her.

The name echoed in her mind. She had heard it before, somewhere, but couldn't place the name as he lifted her hand to his lips and planted a kiss on the back of it.

"I'm a fashion photographer. I must say, you are stunning. Can I ask what line of work you're in?" he asked, his voice on the edge of enthusiasm.

Cordelia was floored, and she almost couldn't answer him. "I...I'm an administrative assistant for a private investigations firm."

He appeared impressed. "A detective. How intriguing."

"It definitely can be."

"What's the most interesting thing that's ever happened on the job?"

Well, she thought. There was that demon that changed bodies to stay alive. And then there was that Jheira girl that had come to L.A. via portal from another dimension. And she couldn't forget the shape-shifting alien Nasedo that had killed her until another alien--Max Evans--healed her and saved her life.

Of course, she didn't say any of those things to him.

"Actually," she said, thinking quickly. "I'm not really allowed to discuss any of the cases we work on. They're confidential," she said, hoping she sounded professional.

"Oh, right. Of course. I don't know what I was thinking," he said quickly.

"It's no big deal," Cordelia assured him.

He stared again. "I'm sorry. I just can't get over how great you would look on camera. Have you ever considered a modeling career?"

She blinked. "No. I did try acting, though. I wasn't very good at it."

Clayton pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. "This is the address of a photo shoot I'm covering tomorrow for Vogue magazine. If you get a chance, please stop by. I would love to get you on film, show some pictures to some graphic editors I know. You'd be an instant hit, I'm sure of it."

Cordelia smiled. "I'll try to stop by."

"I'm looking forward to it," he said sincerely. He took her hand and kissed the back of it once more. Cordelia glanced past him into the mirror behind them, and was relieved when she saw he had a reflection.

She said a silent thanks to the PTB.

Go to Part 2

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