Pairing: Cordelia/Darla, implied Cordelia/Wesley
Setting: Angel Season 2 - in another dimension.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Cordelia makes fun of Angel's hair and gets laid. PWP.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never mine, all characters herein property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy productions. I only play for my own amusement. No money being made here.
Author's Note: Written at the request of Mike, who also wanted Cordy/Darla/Anya/Vamp!Willow, but I told him that would make his head blow up and he got this instead. Betaed by notmono, who I send beer and sloppy kisses to for doing it on such short notice.

The last time Cordelia Chase had seen her employer’s Sire, Darla was kissing the Master’s ass and wearing a Catholic school girl’s uniform - which was, admittedly, a little strange, now that Cordy stopped to think about it, since there wasn’t a single Catholic school in Sunnydale, California. All those churches and not a single Catholic school Still, that didn’t change the fact that Darla was standing in the offices of Angel Investigations, which was strange for its own reasons - that the last time Cordy saw Darla, Darla had been a pile of dust under Buffy Summers’ feet. And this Darla walked right on in, no invitation, and Cordy was sure that there wasn’t some kind of exemption from vampire rules for Sires, which meant that this Darla was not a vampire.

So this Darla wasn't a Scourge of Europe man-eating syphilis-having vampire, but that still didn’t explain why this Darla was in here, and in the office, and wearing something that looked to have been dragged out of a Goodwill bargain bin. Standing in the office, looking like a wild woman, smelling like a New York alley, and not saying anything. Her eyes darted from window to file cabinet to Cordy’s face and back, but she didn’t say a word.

Cordy was stunned silent; Darla looked like a cornered animal, and she smelled like one as well. Of course Darla turned up when Angel and Wes were both out of the office on a call, and on the one day that Cordelia wasn’t on an audition. Why she was forced to deal with Angel’s mysteriously returned, grubby ex was beyond her, but as far as exes went, Cordy was slightly happier to see Darla than, say, Buffy. So she supposed it worked out, sort of, and she supposed that she had to be nice.

"Are you here to see Angel?" Cordy asked, raising her voice above normal levels. Darla started. Her eyes stopped jumping, coming to rest on Cordelia, though Darla still didn’t make eye contact. If Cordy wasn’t mistaken, those frightened eyes had come to rest on her … cleavage. "Angel?" she repeated, more slowly. "Are you here to see Angel?" Darla’s eyes slid slowly up to meet Cordy’s, and Cordelia took the chance to shift the neckline of her shirt up just a tiny bit. Nothing quite like your boss’s ex checking out your rack.

Darla remained quiet. "Angel?" Cordelia said one last time. "Big, dark, broody? Poofy hair, too much gel? You once bit his neck? Is that who you're looking for?"

Nothing from Darla. The smell from the blanket wrapped around the vampire's - former vampire's, Cordelia reminded herself - was starting to make Cordy gag and Darla's gaze had drifted make to the still sagging neckline of Cordy's shirt so perhaps enough with this standing around.

"Okay. So you're not much with the talking. I thought you used to be - well, at least with the taunting - but to each his own, I suppose. God, I sound like Wesley." Darla's eyes went wide at the mention of Wesley and Cordy felt an unfamiliar need to reassure her. "He's not here. Neither is Angel. Come on. We'll get you cleaned up, okay?"

It had been a slow day. Angel and Wes were out dealing with some weird flesh-eating demon and she didn't expect them back before midnight at the earliest. Although, come to think of it, she wouldn't have been unhappy to see Wesley before then, even a Wesley covered in slime. A Wes covered in slime was a Wes she could take home and put in the shower. Or, more to the point, a Wes she could take home and get in the shower with. But he wasn't there, and Cordy was bored. She supposed she could clean up a stinky ex-vampire before Angel came home and found his Sire in his living room. It might stem the blow a bit if she didn't smell like a dumpster.

"Come on, let's go. Downstairs. The machine can get the calls." Darla stood where she was. Fine, Cordelia thought, if you're going to be that way. She took Darla's arm and tugged gently. That was all she needed to do. Keeping one hand on Darla, she led her down the stairs to Angel's apartment. "Shower first. You stink." Darla stood unmoving, staring at Cordy.

"God. Now I know I don't want kids. Come on." Every time Cordelia touched Darla, she became pliable - willing to be moved with no apparent thought for direction on her own. Cordy tried not to think that it had something to do with her touch. She retrieved Angel's enormous, ancient flannel bathrobe from his bedroom and steered Darla towards the bathroom. She turned on the hot water, handed Darla a towel and made a generous pantomime of hanging the bathrobe on the back of the door. "Okay?"

Darla looked at her. Again. "I am not undressing you. That's the boss's job. Shower. You remember. Water good. Get in the water." Darla dropped the blanket to the floor. "That's a start. Go on."

Cordelia was most certainly not stripping and bathing her boss's ex-girlfriend, so she left the bathroom and started hunting for something to feed to Darla. If she was clean and fed maybe she'd be more patient in waiting for Angel and quit looking at Cordelia like she wanted to eat her. Cordelia had had enough of hungry vampires looking at her neck, thankyouverymuch. She'd never quite gotten over Willow killing her in that weird alternate universe.

The problem with having a vampire for a boss is that the contents of his refrigerator look something like this: Blood. Coffee. Blood. Blood. Moldy Chinese food that his secretary forgot about. Blood. Tupperware with no food left in it that Wesley was too lazy to wash. Blood. Behind the blood and the Tupperware, however, Cordelia found a pleasant surprise: a dozen eggs and some bacon that hadn't grown legs and walked off yet. Everybody like eggs, right? And bacon couldn't be that hard to cook. Just drop it in the pan and try not to set the smoke detectors off.

So Cordelia cooked. She was just pouring scrambled eggs into the pan of grease when she felt a hand on her hip and a mouth on her neck. Wes! her brain shouted. "Get off, Wesley, I'm cooking," she said and an involuntary shiver ran down her back. Then there were teeth biting into the muscle of her shoulder, not painful, just insistent. Cordy swatted playfully at the body behind her. "Off, I said! You know what teeth do to me and you know Angel hates it when we're overcome in his kitchen."

Sometimes Cordelia felt like everyone could see the invisible light bulbs that occasionally went on over her head, when she'd finally figured something out, something that Wes and Angel had known for a long time already. There was no one but the person behind her to see this one when Cordy realized that the cheek touching her shoulder was soft and smooth. Even freshly shaven, Wes's face was still slightly rough and that was so definitely not Wes's face against her back.

That's when the highly visible imaginary light bulb lit up.

Cordelia's mouth was open before she'd even turned around. "Stop it! I'm not Angel, I'm not the vampire you Sired, I'm not a vampire at all!" She was advancing on Darla, who looked small in Angel's bathrobe and slightly surprised at Cordelia's reaction but was standing her ground without much reaction. Cordelia was six inches from Darla and still yelling when her tirade was cut off mid stream by Darla's mouth. Darla's surprisingly warm - oh, yeah, right, not a vampire, remember that - surprisingly soft mouth, Cordelia thought. Darla made no other moves, seemingly content to swipe her tongue through the other woman's mouth.

Cordelia broke away, panting. That took me too damn long, she thought. What on earth am I doing? I have Wesley. I love Wesley. Why am I kissing an ex-vampire in my vampire boss's kitchen? This is not my life. When she raised her eyes from the floor and her carefully painted toes, Darla was still standing in front of her and still staring at her. Cordelia didn't want to know why Darla had fixated on her. She didn't want to think about it. She wanted Darla to go away. That's what she wanted.

And as Cordelia opened her mouth to tell Darla to just leave her alone, she realized that she wanted to kiss Darla. And if Darla left, there would be no kissing.

So she did what seemed to her to be the obvious thing: she backed Darla up against a wall, tangled one hand in the damp hair, and kissed her. Hard. Darla kissed back, threading thin arms around Cordelia's waist, tugging at the hemline of her shirt. In the back of her mind, Cordy noticed this and, without being distracted by the very nice things Darla's teeth were doing to her tongue, mentally braced herself for the cool hands of a vampire on her skin. She gasped with surprise, not cold, when warm skin touched her own, Darla's hands scrambled up her back, smoothing in circles. Cordy mentally scolded herself for not remembering, again, that Darla wasn't a vampire anymore and went back to the lovely task of figuring out what, exactly, made Darla make those tiny gasping noises.

One thing Cordy did know was that Darla made better noises when Cordy's hands stroked her shoulders. Darla's fingers were busy with the clasp on Cordelia's bra, so Cordy pushed the oversized bathrobe off the blonde's shoulder and put her mouth to her pale throat tentatively. Darla threw her head back and cried out; Cordy thought this was good, so she continued her path, long sweeps of tongue and nips of teeth, across the bared neck to the sharp collarbone and back. Darla finished with the clasp and cupped Cordelia's breasts in her hands, swiping her thumbs across the nipples until they firmed under her touch. Pulling free from Cordy's mouth, removing her hands from Cordy's breasts, Darla tugged at the hem of Cordy's shirt and Cordelia broke away to left Darla lift it over her head and toss it, and her bra, somewhere behind them.

Her nakedness was enough to let Cordelia's guard just a hair, but enough so that Darla could regain control. She gave Cordy a gentle push and off balance and head swimming already, Cordy dropped to her knees. She didn't struggle when Darla pushed her onto her back and straddled her legs, letting the bathrobe fall open just enough to give Cordy a glimpse of pale breasts beneath the flannel. And Cordelia certainly didn't struggle when Darla lowered her warm, soft mouth to Cordy's left breast and ran a warm tongue over her nipple. Rather, Cordy tossed her head back as far as it would go and cried out.

While Darla's mouth sucked insistently at Cordelia's breasts, her hands scuttled anxiously at Cordy's skirt. She worked a nimble hand up Cordy's thighs, stroking gently as her fingers moved further and further up. As Darla's clever fingers stroked Cordelia to a climax, Cordy's brain and hands reengaged and she slid her hands down the front of Angel's bathrobe, revelling in the weight of Darla's breasts between her fingers. She caught Darla's mouth in a kiss and rubbed her thumb across a nipple, and as she came, Cordelia howled Wesley's name and Darla murmured "Drusilla" in her ear.

Cordelia came to when voices penetrated her head. A voice thick with amusement and a British background muttered, "Well, this is certainly an interesting scene." Blurry images swam in front of Cordy's eyes, and she pushed a strand of blond hair gently out from her eyes.

An equally amused but different voice answered the first. "I told she couldn't be trusted around vampires, Wes." Wes. Wesley. Her boyfriend. Wesley and Angel. Angel. Her boss. Darla. His Sire.

Oh, God, said Cordelia's mind. You're on the floor of Angel's kitchen. With Darla. Mostly naked. And I think you burned the bottom out of Angel's best frying pan, too. Cordelia told that voice to shut up. She raised her head slightly, careful not to disturb the still sleeping Darla, and glared as best she could at Wes and Angel. It was easier to cover her embarrassment with anger. Unfortunately Cordy paired the glare with a from-the-roots blush, which detracted from the glare quite considerably. As far as glares from Cordelia went, Wesley and Angel later agreed, it was pretty weak. That just-fucked look was too heavy around her eyes.

"This is so not funny, guys." Now Cordy was annoyed that they found this so funny. It's hard to be embarrassed when you're being irritated by your boss and his partner, who somehow think this is the funniest thing they've seen in weeks.

Wes was doubled over in silent laughter, unable to meet her eyes. Angel just looked at her, smirking in that way only an overly broody man can. "Wes seems to be indisposed for the moment, so I'll have to explain, Cordy. Cordelia Chase, straighter than an arrow Cordelia, never-looked-at-Faith's-ass Cordelia, and the Boss's formerly deceased Sire. Cordy, it's not just funny, it's bloody priceless. Even I'm nearly compelled to laughter."

Wes had composed himself significantly by the end of this speech from Angel. He held out his hand to Cordelia. "Come on, Miss Chase. Let's go home. I'll make you dinner and you can rinse the vampire out of your hair. Leave the blond with her child."

Cordy took his hand and eased out from under Darla. She was still fuzzy in that post-orgasm glow, but she knew Wesley was supposed to be pissed off. "You're not angry?"

"That you were shagged senseless on Angel's kitchen floor?" Wes's voice was still laughing at her. "Not at all, darling. I'm just glad you weren't bored this afternoon."

Cordelia let him take her home. But she thought she might not mind if Darla turned up tomorrow, too.