Title: Restless Winds (2/3) in the "Who I Am, What I'll Become" Series

Author: X_tremeroswellian

Email: X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: If wishes were horses...*Sigh* They're Joss Whedon's. I also don't own the Discovery Channel, the Crocodile Hunter, Vogue Magazine, Titanic or any of its characters. Clayton Gilman, however, is my own creation.

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

Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been," and the first eight stories in this series, especially the first one, "Illusions." One scene in here is reminiscent of one that took place in "Untouched," but was re-worked for storyline purposes.

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

Distribution: Let me know the link. Anyone with permission to archive the other stories in this series 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 A/C shippers, I'm having lots of fun writing these fics. There's a long, bumpy road ahead, so hold on.

Restless Winds (Part 2)

//"You'd always be second best, Cordelia. Just the runner up, never first choice," Nasedo whispered, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned in close, wearing Angel's face.

The knife glittered in his hand as he brought it down into her stomach, her blood spilling everywhere.//

Cordelia whimpered in her sleep, but remained in a state of unconsciousness.

//"You were never good at anything," Buffy said coolly. "You were a waste of time and a waste of space, and I'm sure Angel only keeps you around out of pity. We all threw a party when you left town. And Xander partied the hardest of all."//

//This is the last face you're ever gonna see," Nasedo whispered, hovering above her as her life drained away.//

//"You'd always be second best, Cordelia."//

"...Angel only keeps you around out of pity..."//

Cordelia woke up in a cold sweat. "Dennis?" Instantly her bedroom light flickered on, ridding the room of all its shadows. "Thanks," she said gratefully. She climbed out of bed, shivering, and quickly pulled on her terrycloth robe, wrapping it around her tightly.

She looked around the room, disgusted that she'd only been asleep for three hours. The really bad part was that she was due in at Angel Investigations in just four hours.

Why was it she had to work on weekends? Oh, yeah. Cause evil things don't stop doing evil just because it was Saturday and she'd rather sleep in.

"Now I'm starting to think like Wesley," she said, rolling her eyes. She left her bedroom and walked down the hall to her living room. She curled up on the couch and grabbed the television remote.

She flipped through the stations until she found The Crocodile Hunter on the Discovery Channel. Then she laid down and Dennis covered her up with an old afghan.

"Is Cordelia coming in today?" Angel asked testily as he sat down at his desk.

"I'm sure she is." Wesley didn't look up from his book. "Would you like to tell me what's been going on with you lately?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, of course. That's why you've been blowing off your job as investigator."

"Not like we've had any cases."

"Not like you would know if we had," Wesley retorted.

"Wesley, do you have a problem?" Angel demanded.

He rose to his feet. "Yes. Perhaps I do. Cordelia and I have been doing everything around here while you've been locked in your room--"

"What's going on?"

Both men turned to see Cordelia standing in the doorway.

"You're late," Angel snapped.

"So are you. By about three days," she shot back.

Angel glared at her. "I'm the boss here. So why don't we pretend that you work for me?"

Cordelia glared right back at him, her eyes narrowed and dark. "What the hell is your problem?"

As angry as he felt, Wesley realized he'd better intervene. He'd only seen Cordelia truly angry a couple of times, but from those brief experiences he'd learned that her temper could match if not outrun Angel's any given day. He had no intention of letting the two of them kill each other. "Okay, let's just calm down," he said gently, keeping his voice firm and level.

"Then why don't we pretend that you don't?" Angel said angrily, completely ignoring Wesley.

So much for intervening, he thought.

Dead silence.

Cordelia and Angel stared at one another for a long moment. Then she promptly turned around and walked out.

Angel swore under his breath, but made no move to go after her. Wesley gave him a dirty look. Then he darted out the door and hurried after his fleeing friend. "Cordelia!" He ran down the steps and caught up with her on the landing. "Cordelia!" He grabbed her arm.

She whirled around to face him. "God! What is his deal? He doesn't come to work for three days and when he finally does, he's grouchier than a damned grizzly bear with P.M.S.!"

"I think perhaps Angel has some things he has to work out on his own."

"Like what? Brooding over Buffy?" she asked sarcastically.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Well, I'll be damned if I'll let him take it out on me. I'm out of here." She turned to go.

"You can't quit."

"I know that. I can't quit anymore than he can fire me. We're sort of bound together because of the whole vision-thing, remember?" There was a hint of bitterness to her tone.

Wesley sighed. "He didn't mean it."

Cordelia took a deep breath. "I know." All of her anger seemed to drain away as she leaned against the stair rail.

"Are you all right?"

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't sleep well."

Wesley frowned and studied her briefly. "Are you ill?" He raised his hand and pressed his palm to her forehead, relieved that she didn't seem to have a fever.

"No, I was just...restless," she answered vaguely.

"Maybe you should go back home and get some rest."

"No. Weird as it sounds, I'm not even tired. I think I'm going to go for a walk. I'll be back later."

"Cordelia?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to get hit by any cars," he said jokingly.

Cordelia's lips turned up in a smile. "I'll see what I can do."

Cordelia walked down Main Street, window shopping as she tried to calm down. She hadn't lied last night when she'd told Clayton she was an administrative assistant at Angel Investigations. A year ago it would have been a lie. A year ago, all she'd done was answer phones and set up appointments.

But now?

Now she did that, plus the financial bookwork, research, hack into different databases, decrypt files, make coffee, clean the office, not to mention going out on all the cases they had. She fought vampires, demons, evil-shape-shifting aliens, and Wolfram and Hart lawyers. Oh, then there was the fact that she was Angel's sole connection to the PTB. Without her visions, they'd be fighting blind.

And she did all of it for him, and for the most part, sans complaining.

She didn't even get paid overtime. Not that Angel could really afford it anyway. After all, their lack of clientele lately was becoming more noticeable with each passing day and things were getting tight budget-wise.

Not that Angel knew that. Or cared.

She started to feel angry all over again. What right did he have to talk to her like that? She wasn't a doormat. Not even for a 247-year-old brooding vampire whom she considered to be one of her best friends.

She was still Cordelia Chase.

Except now...she was beginning to wonder just who that was anymore. She paused at a store window, her reflection catching her attention. For a long moment she just stared. Then it hit her. And suddenly she knew what she had to do.

It was time for her to get a life.

Cordelia lingered in the doorway of the room where Clayton was doing the photo shoot. She looked around in surprise, utterly amazed at the set-up. The outside of the building was rundown and she never would have guessed that inside a famous photographer was doing a shoot for one of the most prestigious magazines in America.

Clayton turned and saw her, a smile lighting up his face. She returned the gesture. "All right, everyone, take ten," he shouted to the models and crew. He walked over to her. "Ms. Chase, I'm so glad you could make it."

"Yeah, well, I took the afternoon off," she informed him, pleased when he kissed the back of her hand. "And you can call me Cordelia."

His smile broadened. "Why don't you come into my office where we can talk in private?" Cordelia followed him to a small room he was using as a makeshift office. "As you can see, everything here's temporary. We rarely film at the same location more than once. When the public hears that we're using a certain building for a shoot, too many people try to drop by in hopes of being discovered."

She nodded in understanding. "So that's why the low-profile local."

"Exactly. You're a quick learner, I see." Clayton sounded pleased.

Cordelia smiled. "Well, I sort of have to be."

"Ah, that's right. You're in the private investigations business." He picked up a file and flipped through some papers. "Do you have an agent? You mentioned you tried acting."

"Yes, I do. Did, actually. I'm sort of a free-lancer now."

"Well, someone of your beauty rarely needs an agent." Clayton leaned forward. "What are you doing this evening?"

She paused. "Nothing."

"Excellent. Would you like to hang around here? See how things are done?"

"That would be great."

"And then after we've wrapped up this particular shoot, perhaps you'd allow me to get a few snapshots. I want to get started as soon as possible," he said, smiling.

Cordelia smiled back. "I'd like that, too."

Clayton stood up and she followed him out of his office. "Trudi! Get Cordelia a chair and some spring water!" he shouted to his assistant.

A moment later, Trudi, a pretty, petite woman with red hair that reminded her a bit of Willow pulled out a director's chair and ushered her into it. She handed Cordelia a bottle of water. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, this is fine, thanks," she said in amazement as she watched Clayton cross the room and start fiddling with his camera.

"All right people! Let's get started so we can get done today!" Clayton turned and flashed her another smile.

Cordelia couldn't help it. There was just something about him. She smiled back.

"So tell me about yourself. I want to know everything," Clayton told her later that evening as he adjusted the tripod for his camera. "Head back, chin up," he instructed.

Cordelia leaned her head back slightly and tilted her chin. "There's not much to tell."

Not much I *can* tell, she corrected herself mentally.

"I'm sure that's not true. Are you from L.A.?" He snapped a photo. "Turn your face to the right a bit. There. That's perfect."

"I was actually born in a little town north of here called Sunnydale."

"I've heard of that. It's supposed to be a nice place to raise a family."

She choked back a sarcastic comment. "It's lovely," she lied. "What about you?"

"L.A. born and raised. Went to New York for a bit, but missed the West Coast," he informed her. "Okay, why don't you lie down for the next couple of shots?"

Cordelia laid down on the velvet couch that was behind her. "Like this?" she asked.
He frowned, tilted his head to one side, and then shook his head. He moved to her side and gently moved her arm so it was draped over the armrest above her head.

She started to feel like she was doing the shot from Titanic where Jack drew Rose, except...well, she was dressed. She smiled involuntarily.

Clayton smiled down at her and her breath caught in her throat. Their eyes locked and for one long moment, she was certain he was about to kiss her. He leaned in close. "You look amazing. Breathtaking. Don't move a muscle," he warned as he got up suddenly and rushed to his camera.

Cordelia held still, trying to push aside the disappointment she felt. He snapped the shot. Then another, and one more after that.

"All right. I think we're all done here."

She stood up slowly, smoothing down her skirt, hoping it wasn't too wrinkled. "Well, thank you."

"No. Thank you." Clayton paused. "I don't normally do this, and I hope it doesn't sound too unprofessional, but...would you like to have dinner with me?"

Cordelia met his eyes. "I'd love to."

Go to Part 3

Back to the fanfic