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Cordy talks with Ash, just like she promised Angel she'd do.
February 16, 2017
San Francisco
Ash almost looks normal out here, strolling through the San Francisco streets as the sun slowly starts to set in the west. Now that he's had time to shave that impressive chin of his, he looks almost charming despite the various scars and the graying of his hair at the temples. Like a regular older man who in no way at all performed horrible atrocities against his fellow man. Except for that occasional wild glance around the sea of people, the wideness of his eyes and the brief moments of paranoia telling a different story before he calms himself down. It's this way every ten minutes or so. Considering how high strung he's been the past couple of months, this is an improvement.
Ignoring the chill of the air with the leather jacket keeping him warm, his wooden hand with a bag dangling from its palm, while his left held an oversized ice-cream cone(He'd rather it was a beer, but he didn't want the cops on his ass.), the proud Williams son nodded his approval while saying syllables towards the woman next to him with his mouth full.
"Oh yeah, a guy could get used to this. Glad you talked me into this Cordy, I gotta tell ya!"
Cordelia, on the other hand, is sipping a drink, but it's coffee. It's something of a staple of the people at Angel Investigations, although recent developments have made it less of an absolute essential and more of an enhancement. Makes it easier rather than makes it possible at all. "Trust, there are enough little boutiques and bohemians around to keep me coming back. Anyway, the reason why I called you here." She glances around every so often herself, though she's not quite as obvious about it as Ash is. Her own experience is one of danger presenting itself at any time, and she's not about to be taken by surprise either.
"If you can put things back the way you found them, it'll go a long way to making people happier to deal with you." Cordy takes another little sip of her coffee and licks her lips. "Not saying I'm not cool with you being around. I mean, let's talk facts, Faith was a dangerous psycho before Angel cared enough to help her into being someone who resorts to torture a lot less. But, well, you know how it is. You scratch our back, we scratch yours...you can rely on somebody being there when you need them if they don't end up hesitating that crucial second or two because they remember how irritated they were that the weapons cabinet was left in a mess, right?"
The rest of the crowd don't care, they're not hearing what she's saying, and even if she's not making much effort to speak confidentially between them...well, that whole public Faith controversy is over and done with anyway. Cordelia might get a look or two by some people that recognize her from the TV, but thankfully Winnie is on hiatus between seasons and she's not quite as on the public's mind. For now.
Wait until that streetcar gets unveiled.
"Oh yeah, that Faith chic-"
Ash was usually a motor mouth that went a mile a minute, but his defenses were down while masticating with a beautiful woman next to him. So instead, he just let the moment pass as Cordelia went on. He nodded in silence even as he winced slightly at the mention of that damn cabinet. He'd have to say something, and he couldn't be distracted while he did it. Looking down at the cone in his hand, he quickly looked around and instantly saw the solution. As Cordelia and Ash were walking one way, a pair of nuns were coming around walking the other way. At the last moment, when they were directly to the right of him, Ash pivoted his body and before they knew what hit them, placed that cone right in the hands of the nearest one.
"'Scuze me doll can you throw that away for me? Thaanks!"
Now with his hand free and the confused holy pedestrian already forgotten behind him, Ash could get down to what was important. Speaking in a lower tone of voice, Ash's eyes carried a look of guilty sincerity to them.
"Hey, yeaaah...I am sorry about that. I didn't realize the organization of those things were all that important. In the trailer, I put the 'tools' of my 'trade' pretty much wherever they can fit. I guess it's a bit different here in the big leagues."
Clearly uncomfortable with this, it wasn't long before Ash changed the subject, clearing his throat with a cough while looking around.
"So whoever's holding that book, they've been pretty quiet. Aside from some drunk idiot yelling nursery rhymes, it's all been downright civil, and that makes me nervous. We got any leads at all on the Necronomicon?"
"It's fine. I don't care. It's not like a crossbow is exactly hard to find when everything else is a sword or a spear or something." Cordy smiles over at Ash. She really doesn't seem to be that worked up about this, but she did promise to talk to him. And overall, it's a lot better to hear from the Senior Executive VP of Public and Client Relations (title invented by Cordelia herself) than it is to hear from the oft-awkward phrasing of Angel or the anger issues of Faith. Willow would probably just write a note and maybe draw a frowny face or a disappointed cat smiley. "Maybe you could even ask Angel or Faith or whoever to help you make a place. Involve people. Networking! People...working. Something something." She waves a hand.
It says something about Cordelia that she doesn't bat an eyelash with the nuns and the cone and Ash. She grew up in Sunnydale, where every day was either a secret struggle to survive or an overt one. "I think Willow's looking into that. Maybe the other witches are too. I think we're going to take a trip up to Beacon Hills soon. Kind of concerned about Dawn and her mother. I had this freaky vision, and the Slayers have been having their funky dreams." Prophetic dreams, she knows.
But she's still Oracle Girl! And now she doesn't have disorienting trauma with every vision, bonus!
"Help me make a place? What you mean like, paving the driveway and building the walls and roof? I don't know much about vampires, but something tells me they weren't made to work construction under the mid-day sun."
Cracking a smile at his own joke, in the way a humble hero often did, Ash idly reached down to grab the straps of that plastic bag, moving it away from his hand and tucking it more around the crook of his right elbow. He was about to say something, when Cordy mentioned 'Beacon Hills', and instantly Ash's face lit up.
"Ohh, Beacon Hills? They're building a new S-Mart over there. And guess who just got himself transferred over indefinitely yesterday? Go ahead, I'll wait."
The smug face was partially a joke, but he quickly turned serious again when she started talking about witches, Slayers and...
"So you guys are really serious about this hocus pocus vision stuff, huh? What exactly did you see going on, over there?"
There was something in the air, something Ash thought he kept hearing but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly it could be. Something was making him feel restless, something had found the Champion deep within the older, lazy hero, and was poking it with a stick.
At first, Cordy actually thought he meant that, but once she sees he was joking, she chances a laugh. "Right."
There's something about Ash that reminds Cordelia of other people she knows, or has known. Maybe half of it is her training (mostly self-taught) in dealing with people for Angel's detective agency...or her own, when they briefly had to strike out all indie that one time. She knows when not to talk about certain things or people, and that's one up she has on Angel. Even if she does still tend to say things if she thinks them. There's not a lot of filter going on. She's just better at thinking of less upsetting things, unless upsetting things are what need to be said.
"Ahh, yeah. Kinda serious. Remember how I told you I grew up in a crazy town where we were fighting evil nasty monster-type vampires every day? That town's a sinkhole now because of the portal to hell that Buffy closed a couple of years ago." Cordy shakes her head, strolling along. "They got everybody out, though. I mean, except the evil monsters that were trying to use the Hellmouth for their own nefarious purposes. Anyway, so there are these creepy bald Joker-looking floaty evil murderers, and I'm pretty sure they're going to hit Beacon Hills in a big way soon." She clears her throat. "They're called...the Gentlemen. Like, how freaky is that?"
Before Ash had a slight element of stoicism to him, even in the casual jeans and "nice cheap shirt" combo, but that left when Cordelia drops some dangerous names that Ash should be respectful of. The way he turns his head, snorting incredulously out his nose before snickering...this was not a show of respect. Nor were the next sixty seconds of straight guffawing that was only interrupted by Ash looking over and seeing the look on Cordelia's face, whatever that look may be.
"C'mon...the 'gentlemen'?! What are they gonna do, throw coconuts at us? Say 'whilst' instead of 'while', while they walk silly-ily at us? Listen up Cordy, you guys have got nothing to worry about from any 'gentlemen' with the Chosen One here, ok? Let me tell you a story about a sweet little old lady from the ninth circle of hell named Henrietta, and why she was someone you should -really- be afraid of! So there I was, trapped in the cella-"
His bravado and bragging stopped as that sound finally got louder enough for Ash to hear...and probably Cordelia to hear, as well. The sound of bells, playing in a very particular theme...and the sounds of two old voices, singing perfectly to that theme. Ash turned around slowly, arms dropping, plastic back hitting the pavement with a hard 'thud'. Cordelia might have seen similar moments, similar faces before. The body and the spirit were both ready to act, while the mind was still working through its normal, human confusion.
"Can't even shout, can't even cry! Gonna die screaming and you won't know why!"
The two nuns were back, walking through a crowd that seemed to ignore them, walk around the women even as the elder carried a little box in her hands. Both sang in unison. Ash took a step backward.
"Looking in windows, knocking on doors!"
The two women sang while getting closer, their eyes milky white even as they taunted the pair with that damned...damned song.
"The gentlemen are coming by!"
They screamed shrilly causing the hero to step backwards and flinch in reaction...though his left arm was out, in front of Cordelia. He was covered in sweat and breathing a bit heavier, even as the two seemed to come to their senses, look at each other, then quickly walk away. Their minds would already be concocting denials for what just happened, but Ash saw it. He looked over to the famous actress and demon-thumping detective, wide-eyed yet again.
"You, uh...you just see that, or am I going nuts again?"
"Yeah, well, I'm not in charge of their naming committee. I swear, sometimes I--" Cordelia starts, amicably enough, but she stops cold when the nuns start to sing their song. "That's the same song," she whispers to Ash, as she maneuvers herself to place Ash between her and the nuns right about when his arm goes out in front of her. That definitely scored some chivalry points.
It's not technically hiding. It's just that he's better at this than she is, obviously. Besides, she moved first, so he's obligated to keep himself in the way as an obstacle and human shield.
For the duration of the...performance, for lack of any better word, Cordelia stares unblinking at the women. The crowds around them are startled at first, but once it's done...well, this is the former center of hippies and drug culture in San Francisco. They mostly assume it was just some sort of weird performance art.
"I think you're beginning to get the idea," Cordy at last speaks, once it's all over and done with.
Ash looks at the fleeing nuns, then at his own civilian clothes, then at Cordy. With a brow raised, the 'Chosen One'(just how many Chosen Ones were there?) gave a little nod.
"Yeah, I think I'm starting to get it. I feel a little naked and exposed out here. What do you say we go somewhere with a weapons cabinet."
Night was starting to fall. That was never good in their line of work. After all, they weren't exactly gentlemen.