It was very late when Cordelia entered Connor's make-shift lair and she made her way through the dark room towards the window where she could see him sitting, looking out onto the chaos of the night. She'd sent him home, away from the hotel and Angel, and he'd gone without protest, angry and hurt that she was turning to his father.
But, she'd needed to explain some things to Angel. Unfortunately, he'd been unwilling to listen. The dark fury in his eyes had sent shivers through her, reminding her too much of how close to the darkness he was.
How close to Angelus.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she stepped into the small pool of moonlight.
Connor's head swivelled and bleak eyes fixed on her. "You came back."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Pulling up a stool, Cordelia sat in front of him, wrapping her hands around her trembling knees. She used to be so good at this, dealing with boys--men. "Angel knows. About us." Her eyes glanced up towards the high windows. "He saw us."
"...Oh."
She shrugged and nervously rubbed her palms along her thighs. "He doesn't blame you, don't worry. He blames me. He's...pretty damn angry and unforgiving."
"We didn't do anything wrong."
"No, sweetie, we didn't, but..." She shakes her head helplessly. "It's just such a mess. Angel and I...we've danced around each other for so long and it's never gone anywhere. Now, we'll never know."
Connor's chin went up and his eyes darkened. "And what about what happened between us? If you and Angel...why did you do that with me?"
Sighing, Cordelia shook her head again and rose to her feet. "I don't know, Connor. I...was scared. People do things like that when they're scared."
He joined her on his feet. "So, you really didn't want me."
"I didn't say that. It's just complicated, Connor. I like you. You're my friend, but you're so young."
Connor snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, a stance very reminiscent of his father. "And my father is only a few years old than you? I don't think so. Age shouldn't matter at all. Do you think I'm a kid? After all I've been through? I've never been a kid. I killed my first demon when I was six. I had the desire for vengeance pounded into me my whole life. I was never a kid," he stressed again.
"Okay, you're not a kid," she conceded, "but you're Angel's kid, and..."
"You love him," Connor interrupted dismissively, "I get that, but I don't see him here courting you. I never saw him do that. He never made a move on you, did he."
Cordelia could feel herself flushing and took a step back from his determined look. "He has issues." Another snort from Connor made her glare at him. "What do you want from me, Connor?"
"The truth, Cordelia. Why did you sleep with me? Why give me hope you cared?"
"I do care, just...not that way."
"Then why?" he persisted, taking a step towards you.
"I thought it was the end of the world and I didn't want to die alone. Are you happy I finally said it?"
"...No," he replied sullenly.
She shot him an exasperated look and turned to walk across the room to the mattress on the floor. "This is getting us nowhere."
He was on her in a flash, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. "I thought adults talked through their problems."
The snideness in his voice made her jerk away from him as she shot back, "I'm talked out. Between Angel's snippiness and your bitchiness, I've had it for tonight." Turning her back on him again, Cordelia ignored his stomping across the room, and kicked off her shoes and stripped down to a camisole and panties before crawling into the bed. Pulling the sheets over herself, she wrapped her arms around a pillow and buried her face in it. She could feel Connor's eyes upon her, but fought valiantly to ignore him.
Finally, she drifted to sleep.
Connor's thrashing awoke her and she struggled to her hands and knees, groaning as one of his hands whacked across her side.
"Connor." Cordelia looked down in the early morning light and saw the pain and fear on his sleeping expression. Reaching for his shoulders, she tried to still him, murmuring to him to wake up. He fought her, struggling in her grasp, and his hands came up to knock her away. Cordelia twisted, and his hands instead found her breasts. He came awake instantly and their eyes locked.
She shook her head, but all that came out was a weak, moaned, "No."
"Hell is coming," Connor murmured, sitting, one hand leaving her breast to slide behind her neck beneath her hair. "We probably won't survive. There's no future. Yes," he breathed and leaned in to kiss her.
It was a tentative, exploratory kiss, until, caught up in sudden need, Cordelia deepened it. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she ran her hands down his naked back, feeling the wiry strength beneath her fingers. He moaned into the kiss, arching against her, his palm rotating over her breast, causing the nipple to harden and ache.
Needing air, she broke the kiss and looked at him from moist eyes. "Oh, Connor, this is so wrong."
"I don't care," he replied strongly. "I need you, and you need me. He's lost to you and the world is probably lost to us. We need something to sustain us. Don't say no, Cordelia."
He wasn't begging, and perhaps that's what spurred her on--the maturity in his voice and attitude. She surrendered to her growing desire and let him lower her to the bed. As his mouth moved down her face to her neck and shoulders, she looked up to the windows and saw the daylight.
There would be no one looking down on them this time, only flames bursting across the sky as the world slowly ground to an end.
End