April 2003

    "If you absolutely have to go save the world from the apocalypse, you might as well do it wearing real leather," she said appreciatively, fingering the lapels of his coat.
    "My plan all along has been to overwhelm the Senior Partners with my dazzlingly good taste in clothes," he said softly, smiling slightly and catching her eye.
    A strange sense of finality passed between them, and Cordelia smiled to hide her dismay.  She tasted the sudden, bitter, salty tears as they escaped from her tightly shut lids and rolled down her cheeks.  The deep-seated and unsettling feeling that this was the last time she would ever stand next to this man, this creature of the night, this friend named Angel intensified inside her.
    Angel wished for all the world that he could throw his mission away, that he could forget about the innocent faces he didn’t recognize, about the Senior Partners.  He never thought it would be possible that he would be willing to let everything fall away around him if only it could mean he would be allowed to stand by the side of Cordelia Chase for a few days, a few hours, a few moments longer.  Cordelia, this extraordinary, beautiful, unfathomable, giving, incredible woman, full of unbelievably furious, vivacious energy in the face of those debilitating visions of hers.  She’d been his best friend and helper for years, but only now was Angel beginning to feel like he really understood anything of the person she was.  He feared that if he did not leave her now, he would never be able to.
    Cordelia could literally feel Angel slipping away from her, as he was slowly moving toward the door.
    "Angel, wait," she whispered, tightening her hold on his coat.
    Angel silently begged her not to say anything more.  He feared that another word from her would break his will completely and all would be lost.  Cordelia clearly saw his conflict, but could not bring herself to let him go.  She did not understand the direction her heart was taking her enough to ignore it.  Unformed words stuck in her throat, and once again he started to leave her.  She did the only thing she hadn’t thought of doing, and it caught them both off guard.
    Pulling lightly on his coat, she slowly brought his face closer to hers.  Her lips lingered, hovering over his, until, tentatively, warm flesh met cool.  It was not a deep kiss, nor was it long and Earth-shatteringly passionate.  More than anything else, it was the soft, sad end to what should have been a brilliant beginning.
    Cordelia gently pushed Angel away, willing him to get out and leave her before the world ended in more ways than the literal one.
    He didn’t feel the doorknob, didn’t hear the click of the latch, and didn’t hear Wesley wish him a solemn ‘Godspeed’ on his way out of the Hyperion.  He could think only of Cordelia’s tears on his cheeks and how they now mingled with his own.