First Night
Chapter 7
by
Misty



Distribution: Stoic Simplicity, http://www.wolverineandrogue.com/mistiec, list archives. Everyone else, please ask.

Spoilers: X-Men: the movie, Angel: The Series, second season finale.

Notes: Remember the whole "not too distant" future thing? Let's disregard that for now. We'll just say that the not too distant future is now, at least a year from now, in Angel's time.

Other notes: This is a LONG sucker, registered at about ... oh... 190 pages from start to finish. So I'll only be posting two chapters a day, so as not to overwhelm your inboxes. This is a crossover, but I wrote it as well as I could have so that even if you are not familiar with X-Men, or Angel, you can read the story and not feel lost.

That at least, is my intention. I hope.

Disclaimer : Um... these characters are not mine. I just played with them. So ... yeah.

Dedication: Jenn, Christie, Shaz - thanks.




"I've got visions coming out my ears - and maybe a little blood too - but that doesn't make me a princess. That makes me... kinda weird."
~ Cordelia, There's No Place like Plz Grb. Angel : The Series


"You're quiet."

"I'm always quiet."

"Quieter."

Gunn just shrugged, acknowledging the strange behavior with a nod before turning his focus back on the road. Thoughts, mixed emotions and a hammering heart were distraction enough, the last thing he needed was the worry in Fred's glistening eyes to seep through his own soul. He had lived a lifetime without rest, without regard for himself and it seemed it would always be that way - if Lorne had told the truth.

And damn if the bastard didn't always tell the truth.

He took in a breath, thankful that Fred had elected to stay silent as he silently processed all that he had been told.

"I still can't believe you made me sing."

The grumble was muttered with an almost childish pout, and it brought an involuntary smile to his lips.

"Better you than me, Fred."

"You could have at least let me pick the song."

He had had to drag Fred up to the stage, and didn't tell her that Lorne had let him know it was HER that had to sing, because whatever the hell was going down was going to involve her a bit more explicitly than it involved him.

"Support and muscle," Lorne said, winking. "Like Rambo, in a Denzel sorta way."

And the little sparrow had a surprisingly sweet song, once she got past the aching fear and complete trembling. Better than any of their group, anyway. People didn't noticeably cringe, and when her voice lilted in that soft movement, it had gone right through him, sending some heat and ache that had before only had been summoned by the lovely princess Cordelia, who was a strictly 'look but don't touch unless you wanna get gutted by a vampire' sorta girl.

Winnifred also fell under the protective 'Angel' umbrella, but in a little sister 'protect at all costs' sorta way, and Gunn could deal with that.

Course all these thoughts were damn confusing, and thrown completely out the window with Lorne's words of doom and despair.

"Chaos on the First Night, sugar lips. Get your little Fang Gang back over here, cause it's not happening over on the east side snow border. And bring the little X's while you're at it. They've got an old friend who's waiting to follow through on a promise."

And he thought Cordelia's visions were vague and foreboding.

"What? You had a problem with Janet Jackson?"

"I had a problem with the lyrics. They were highly suggestive."

He stifled another grin. Yeah, he guessed the lyrical rendition of 'If' was a little suggestive, but damn did she look cute all flustered doing it.

"Don't think I can't see you smiling."

"What, you're pissed at me now?"

Fred shifted, crossing her legs and looking toward him, the glasses glinting as they passed another streetlight. "Perhaps if you told me what Lorne told you-"

"For my ears only, Fred," he cut in shortly, the smile immediately sliding off. "You heard all that you needed to hear."

"I sung, I should have heard it."

"Fred, drop it."

The words were clipped, but the glare she gave him told him she wasn't going to give up anytime soon. Plucky little girl. He shook his head, clamping his jaw as he processed what Lorne had told him while Fred was singing.

"Protector, Pretty Boy. You guard her. It's not that hard a concept."

Gunn had only narrowed his eyes. "She already has me taking care of her."

"No. Just her. In a bodyguard kinda way. I think we could do with another Whitney Houston soundtrack, don't you?"

Again, Gunn jerked his gaze back to the singing girl on the stage. "So I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life protecting her?"

"And the light blinks on. Glad it got through that little bald head of yours, my friend. Cordelia has her champions. That Fred there? She's got a destiny that is beyond what we can even comprehend. She needs a champion - tag. You're it."

"You're all quiet again."

He huffed, turned to glare at her when the car jerked and the body came out of nowhere and flew against the windshield with a resounding crack.

Fred had jumped and he had swerved, feeling the truck slam into the side, his body lurched and immediately he unclipped the seatbelt, blinding reaching for Fred in the near total darkness.

"Fred are you-"

Vampires. Large and big and a gang of them. One on the truck, two on either side.

He sucked in his breath, and the anger slid through him, the hate that came so easily as he reached into the back seat and grabbed the stakes and an ax.

"Stay here," he breathed.

"I'm not letting you- "

"STAY HERE, FRED."

She looked angry, but her forehead was bleeding slightly and the glasses looked more than a little broken and he wasted a precious second to wipe at the blood, run his fingers along the wire frame of the dangling eyewear, pulling it off gently, before biting his lower lip and moving to the side.

"I don't need a protector, Gunn."

He had paused again, and suddenly he turned and his body pressed against hers and his lips were on hers, plundering her mouth in a hot, desperate kiss.

Her body was trembling and she was gasping for breath when he moved his lips away. His eyes searched hers and the intensity behind them made him smile as he traced a gentle finger down her face.

"Tough."

With that, he let her go, and kicked at the door, sending one of the vampires flying backwards.

~*~


If everything wasn't so chaotic and they weren't on such a crucial time table, Cordelia would have actually enjoyed the look of utter panic and then approval on Wesley's face. As it was, she didn't even had time to thank Storm for the clothes before the Englishman launched over the wall and pulled her into a furious hug.

God, he had been really scared. He had really thought - oh God had bad DID she look before?

He was trembling, and Cordelia felt her eyes water at the sheer emotion in Wesley's form, and to hide the beating of her own heart, she shrugged helplessly at Storm, who was nodding and looking a bit misty eyed herself ... though that could have explained the sudden thunder they were having.

"Wesley ... Uh... can't breathe ... " she patted his back awkwardly, swallowing as she continued to be suffocated by an armful of shaking and blubbering Wesley. "Uh... Wesley? I love you but ... personal bubble! PERSONAL BUBBLE!" She pushed him back, running her hands through her hair in an attempt to regain her appearance, only to be plowed into by him again. "AUGH! HEY! What's with the touchy gropey!"

He pulled back, hands cradling her face with genuine warmth in his eyes. "You're alive!"

"Yeah. So? Here I am in all my mutant glory. Storm, right?" she said, nodding over her head to the Weather Goddess who was watching with an incredibly amused expression on her face.

"It's very nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Cordelia said. "And thanks for the clothes. Perfect fit."

"They look good on you."

Wesley pulled her to him YET AGAIN, and patient as Cordelia liked to think she was, that was quite enough. "Wesley, I appreciate the sentiment but if you get tears on my brand new X-y clothes I'm gonna kick your ass."

Immediately he leaned back, but he was still smiling widely.

"How are you- Are you ... Has Angel-"

"Fine, I'm fine, and No. I saw you on my way to the study and wanted to say hi. And I really WISH I could revel in the whole `Cordy is alive and let's worship her' emotional bonding, but ... vision. Couldn't tell you before what with all the mind numbing pain."

Wesley took a breath, squeezing his friend's elbow. "Vision. Right. Good."

Cordelia smiled, and leaned forward, planting a kiss on his cheek. "I'm glad I'm alive, too."

~*~


Logan had to admit something, no matter how much he claimed to hate Scott or think he was a tight ass son of a bitch, the bastard got things done.

Logan saw stereotypes, and when he first encountered Scott, he had to admit he saw nothing but a stick up the ass leader with as much common sense as a barmaid. Now, a few years later, Logan owed the guy his life, on more than one occasion, and had come to depend on him as a teammate, and occasionally, when they weren't playing the roles they were supposed to play as beastie and team leader, as friends. He felt he understood Scott Summers ... and the guy needed to learn how to relax.

The guy never took a rest, and Logan wondered if he even knew what the term `recreation' meant, because whenever he saw him, he was always thinking of all the different things that needed to be done and never about the present ... about now.

Logan shook his head, looking down at the beer he had just emptied and reached for another one out of the cooler.

"Scooter."

Scott looked up from his books, the glare easily discernible despite the lenses covering his eyes.

"Logan, can you not call me that?"

Logan smirked, and tossed the bottle across the room, nodding when Scott caught it immediately.

"Relax."

Scott fingered the bottle, taking in a deep breath. "I shouldn't," he said, more to convince himself than Logan.

Wolverine just rolled his eyes, shifting as he grabbed himself another bottle. "Shit, Scott, I'm not telling you get piss ass drunk, but relax. Jean isn't gonna be too happy when she comes out of that surgery seeing you all haggard and crap."

"Shit, Logan, since when did you start making sense?" Rogue smiled from the doorway, and Logan froze and there it was again...

The hitched in breath, the tensing of his muscles and the twist in the ever-hardening knot of his stomach that told him this wasn't going to work.

Just friends his ass.

Rogue just gave him a smile, acting just like she would act any other day, before leaning over and plucking off the bottle cap of Scott's beer. "Fuzzy's right, sugar."

In the pause that followed, Logan narrowed his eyes, watching with fingers clenched exactly how the hell they were supposed to handle this whole `last night never happened' when they both know it fucking did.

If Rogue had meant what she said about wanting things to be just like they were, she would have made a bee-line to his sofa and curled herself up under the crook of his arm. Instead, he heard the uneven breath of hesitation, before she smiled back at Scott, and then turned, curling up in one of the bigger armchairs in the lounge, never once looking into his eyes. He fought against the growl, knew it would give him away, and instead he swallowed, clenched the bottle harder, and tried to drown himself in it.

So he promised.

She lied.

He blew out his breath, launched out of the chair, aware her eyes were on him, and thankful when Jean Grey stepped into the room.

Rogue immediately stood, Scott slammed the bottle down on the chair and all eyes were on Jean.

"Well?"

She looked tired, her eyes were tired and there were bags under her beautiful eyes. When she came into the room, immediately she sought out her fiancée and with a sigh, sank down on the couch beside him, curling his arm around her and leaning on his shoulder.

She looked exhausted.

But her eyes were shining brilliantly and Logan knew that Jeannie was walking on freaking air.

"Hey guys," she said with a sigh, hand reaching up to massage at her temples.

"Take it it went well?"

"Oh, God, it was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life," she said, her voice soft, barely a rasp. "But she's alive."

"She's alive?" Rogue seemed above relieved, slumping back into the seat and catching his eyes and smiling.

"Completely mutated, and alive." Jean leaned forward, her shoulders shuddered slightly and she looked up, her eyes bright and so very radiant. "We did it. Hank and I did it." Scott smiled, leaning forward, sliding a warm hand down her back and back up, massaging lightly.

"Can we see her?" Rogue asked, crossing her legs and leaning forward.

"Sure. She's.... " Jean sat up, and immediately looked toward the door. "Coming right now."

Huh. So it was time to meet the all famed Seer.

Logan wasn't sure what to expect when the woman walked through the door, but he sure as hell wasn't expecting what he got in the black leather.

Before, he had only seen glimpses of the girl, first in the night that had restricted his view and then lying in the medical ward, in pain and definitely not at her best.

Now, he understood why the vampire and the English librarian looking guy had been so hung up on her.

Cordelia Chase was fucking hot.

The body was long and slender, voluptuous curves accentuated by the black clothes given to her by Jean. The hair was short, accented with blonde highlights that did something to her eyes, made them sparkle, set off by a bronze colored skin that was even, making her the oxymoron of a California girl with just that little bit of class that gave her that something extra. Jean had it in spades. Rogue had a different sort, and Storm's was it's own godly type. But Jean and Cordelia had the exact same move, grace, walk.

Royalty.

What was he overheard that Wes guy telling Storm? Cordelia was a princess or some shit like that?

He pursed his lips, looking over to Rogue who greeted Cordelia with a hint of a smile on her face, all the affection she usually allowed.

Cordelia Chase gave Rogue a smile, but there was something in her eyes that, upon sniffing, matched fear. Cordelia was scared. Scared shitless.

"Hey guys." She remained standing, but took the beer that Scott had taken but never drunk, and took a sip herself. "Jean, shouldn't you be napping or something?"

"Later."

"Yeah. Later."

Logan cocked an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes, and almost as if she had felt him, she turned, regarding him.

He had come to notice that most women who first laid eyes on him had two different reactions: blatant fear or immediate curiosity.

Cordelia Chase regarded him, and it was clear she was experiencing the latter. Her eyes bore into his and she paused, and she continued to silently process everything she was seeing.

"Who's Lumber Jack Dan over here?"

Rogue raised an eyebrow and Storm came forward, moving past Wesley. "You do remember Logan, don't you?"

Cordelia's eyes never left his and he only smirked, looking right back, knowing Rogue was watching and so angry he didn't care. Let her check him out. He was just as good at checking right back.

But the girl didn't back down. Her eyes were on his and they were damn pretty eyes, and in the end it was Rogue who stepped up and broke their line of sight by turning her back on him and talking to Cordelia that ended the staring contest.

"How are you feeling?"

Cordelia looked over her shoulder to him again, but she just shook her head slightly and then turned to Rogue. "We have to talk. Now. The vision. Was Freaky."

~*~


Rogue's eyes were dark, troubled, more troubled than before, and Cordelia felt her mind flash yet again. Her eyes fluttered and the pain was back and she closed her eyes, taking a breath, and letting it ride through her.

"Are you okay? Cordelia?"

"I'm fine," she whispered. "The pain... it's... just a flash." Not nearly as painful and God... she could almost stand it. Mutation was a scary thing, when she allowed herself to think about it. The Truth was, Cordelia Chase wasn't sure exactly what the mutation had done to her. All she knew, was waking up to find a pretty, tired, young doctor looking over her shoulder along with a huge beast with fur who spoke with better grammar than Wesley.

And she didn't care. She was alive, she was sane, visions still there.

Mission accomplished. She'd worry about being a freak later. She swallowed down the nausea and then turned to Rogue, hand on the smaller girl's covered shoulder before beginning.

"You remember that vision I had?"

"The one you had while we flew?"

"Yeah."

"What did you see, Cordelia?" Wesley asked, immediately at her side.

"Where's Angel?" She asked, looking around.

"In the study with Charles."

"Wheels?"

Logan snorted, amused despite himself. "Yeah. Wheels." Cordelia's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. He crossed his right back, daring her to comment.

She didn't. She'd worry about hairy freak later.

The last thing she needed was to tell Rogue that her boyfriend would be the one responsible for her death.

And that he would kill himself when he realized what he did.

And that she would lead the parade to the apocalypse.

Or that the demon Angelus would take over her best friend.

All that information was on a need-to-know basis. And Angel needed to know. NOW.

"Let's go get him."

~*~


The phone rang, interrupting Angel's contemplation, and Charles just smiled, moving about the chess pieces, while Angel reached for his cup of mug, pausing to savor the scent before letting what little there was left slide over his tongue, down his throat, the bitter, tangy liquid filling him as nothing else did.

God. Some things never felt better than human blood... life blood... the soul of something... seeping through him. He closed his eyes, feeling an unconscious sigh as it seeped through him, jerking his body as the demon growled in appreciation.

Human blood.

"Angel?" Angel opened his eyes, felt his fingers jump to his face and immediately looked away in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," He managed to growl through the fanged lips, hiding the demonic face from the professor.

"It's quite all right, Angel. The phone. It's for you. Someone named Charles Gunn."

There was a dizziness, a buzz and he blinked, shaking it away, trying to remember how to contain the sensation that came only with the consumption of human blood.

Human Blood.

He reached blindly for the phone, shoving it against his ear, not wanting to see the Professor's face as his mind reached to control the demon that had managed to slip out.

"Gunn."

"Angel, man. There's shit going down here. You gotta come back. NOW."

Crap. Angel bit into his lip, holding it down as he managed to eek out, "What happened?"

"Vampires. And other stuff. I mean it's WIERD. I talked to some of my boys and - Angel - Lorne said you had to get your ass back here NOW. And to bring those X's out too. It's the end of the world."

"Again?"

"The end of the world as we know it," came a voice from the doorway.

His entire body stilled at the familiar tone. Angel almost dropped the phone when his face jerked toward the doorway.

"Cordelia?"

She leaned against the door, offering him a sad, grim smile. "And I feel fine."

He could only stare in shock, not standing, not moving, his entire body and mind just focused on the woman in the doorway.

"Angel?"

Oh God. She was okay. She was safe. She was okay and safe and standing here and she was okay and oh God she almost died and-

"Angel!"

She came forward, and his gaze burned into her, as she kneeled in front of him and plucked the phone from his lifeless fingers, taking them in hers and massaging them lightly as she picked up the conversation.

"Angel's a little cryptic now," she said, ignoring him as the vampire slid fingers through her hair, his face one of utter amazement. "Uh... hold on Gunn... Angel what are you ON?"

"You're alive."

"Uh... Can I call you back?" She listened, her eyes focused on Angel and then flipping back to some people behind him. He didn't care. She was here and alive and not dead and there was ringing in his eyes and God his heart was ready to burst and he could have SWORN it was going to beat any second now because SHE WAS ALIVE.

"We're on our way." She gave the phone to Charles, and again Angel's hands began to roam over her, on her. "Uh..." her hand picked up the empty mug. "Is this human blood?"

"Yes."

"Great."

"Don't vampires drink human blood?" asked Rogue from the back.

"Uh... bad ones do. Angel hasn't had any in a while and it's made him a little... vampirey." Cordelia's hand cradled his face and his eyes glowed as he gazed at her, covering her hands with his own and squeezing.

"You're alive."

Her eyes met his and for a moment she just stared, and her eyes closed and her heart skipped a beat - he heard it- before she stood, and his hands were burning on her waist and she said something to everyone about leaving and getting ready to pack and all he saw was her until the blood rushing through him and in him and around him died down and suddenly it was just him and her.

"Cordy?"

She took a breath, fingers running over the features of his face as she smiled, a little shakily. "Hey. You with me now?" He swallowed. She was here. She was alive. She wasn't crazy, and the only thing different about her was her ensemble. With a strangled moan he pulled her to him and held her close, eyes stinging with tears as she let him hold her, just for a second, before pulling away, taking a step back.

Oh, God, Cordy, don't do that... don't pull away when I need to feel you.

"Angel. You need to listen. The vision - the one I had yesterday."

"Not the vision. Not right now," he spat immediately, rising, looking at her as if she was some sort of prey he had been tracking forever.

Her eyes widened, and immediately narrowed. She knew him too well, his Cordelia. She knew what he wanted.

"Angel -"

His dead heart felt as if it would burst as her eyes met with his, the smile coming from her lips quickly faltering when she saw the intensity in her eyes.

"I almost lost you, again," he whispered, voice hampered by emotion, lust, desire... love. "I could never..."

He could smell her - the increased awareness of him, could hear the blood racing through her heart, could see the way her feet stepped back nervously.

His hands clenched at his side, and he felt caged: knowing what he wanted, helpless to get it and not giving a damn.

She was still Miss Commonsense, he could practically hear her mind whirling as she fought this, fought him, fought it for so long. But perhaps it was the moisture that tinted his dark brown eyes that made her hesitation disappear, and every reason that they had discussed those years ago on why they could never be more than friends unless the impossible happened was thrown out the window when her eyes watered, and her mouth trembled and she whispered, "Oh, God Angel. I thought I had lost you too."

He lunged forward, meeting her halfway as he pulled her close, pulled her head back and met her lips in a desperate, searing kiss.

God - how had he forgotten the sensation of her hot, moist lips against his colder ones? How the burning, raging desire inside of him exploded with every movement of her body against his? Every touch of her hands on his body, the way she felt so obvious, wanting him, needing him- How had he forgotten how good it felt to kiss her?

~*~


Okay... sex with Angel equaled badness. That was her mantra, she had come to accept it - but GOD.

The second his lips left her own she tried to speak, tried to reason this out. "Angel," she managed, mind reeling as she tried to do anything but concentrate on the feel of him against her, the way his hands spread out on her waist, fingers grabbing and pulling her closer against a hardness that body melt and soften against his, the aching heat that was spreading from her groan to her chest to her heart until she wanted to explode - The way the only thing that seemed to soothe her was the aching coolness of his lips, his body, his hands-

And his lips came down and there it was again - the beautiful kiss that only felt right, only felt REAL, when he gave it to her.

When he loved her.

His lips clung to hers, a low rumbling vibrating from his throat that seeped into her body, as he jerked her toward him, crushing her against him, her back slamming against the wall as he slid his hands over her waist and lifted her up, fitting her hips neatly against his.

Oh, God. OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD.

She swallowed, almost suffocating as his chest was rock hard against her, the wall not giving any- but who cared about breathing when Angel was with her, when Angel was kissing her.

He mumbled something unintelligible and her lips parted with a sigh, taking in a breath as one hand gently slid up under her shirt and skimmed the side of one breast, face buried in her neck, and there was sucking and tiny nips with teeth, and suckles.

Her cheek scraped against the rougher stubble of his cheek, and he hadn't cared about shaving so it burned a little, but it was a good kind of burning as her mouth pressed against the dark fabric covering his shoulder, opening and biting down lightly. He groaned, jerking his hands down and now they spread against her backside, palming them carefully, pulling in, until her hip was rocking against his and oh God-

"Angel," it was barely a word, and even her arms and hands rebelled against her as they buried themselves in the nape of his neck, fanning out, then closing back in to grope at the silky stands, pushing them closer, and then, in an admirable sense of control, pulling away.

Her back was pressed flat against the wall, he was inches away, but she managed to make her grasp hold, her voice weak, but surprisingly firm, despite her gasping breaths that seemed incredibly contradictory. "We have to stop," she rasped, eyes locked with his.

"We have to," she said again. His chest was shuddering underneath her hands, but her forehead gently rested against his and she was putting so much trust in him, and the humanity that she was linked to - his humanizing influence - gave him the control. He gulped, nodding, growling and groaning and shutting his eyes as he felt his body betraying him, showing her how much he still wanted her.

But he moved away, let her slide to the ground, held her steady as she reeled slightly from wobbly knees. She swallowed, chest heaving, closing her eyes and keeping her forehead resting against his as she stroked him comfortingly, swiftly, down his chest, up his neck, struggling to keep even a bit of contact as she desperately tried to get her body, her mind, her feelings, under control.

He groaned, closing his eyes, fingertips gently skimming her elbows, head rolling up as he growled at the ceiling. "I hate this," she heard him whisper. "I hate not being able to touch you."

She swallowed down the lump of emotion, letting his arms go around her, holding him close as she pressed a kiss to her best friend's throat. "I know," she replied gently. "I hate it too."

But there was no other choice, as they held each other in a quiet moment of solitude, best friends, who could never be lovers... Cordelia felt the tears brim beneath her eyelids, but she wiped them quickly away. At least she still had him in her life. That was okay for now, wasn't it?

She sighed, keeping her eyes closed as she breathed him in, knowing when they left this room, it would all be the same as it was before.

It had to be.



CHAPTERS:   1   2   3   4   5   6   7




All references to characters belonging to the X-Men Universe are (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities. All rights reserved. Any reproduction, duplication or distribution of these materials in any form is expressly prohibited. No money is being made from this archive. All images are also (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities; they are not mine. This website, its operators and any content used on this site relating to the X-Men are not authorized by Marvel, Fox, etc. I am not, nor do I claim to be affiliated with any of these entities in any way.