C/A spice: Medium
Read the details, summary, and review of Impressions.
Cordy's at the hotel very early in the morning.
Sometime during [Cordelia's] peer around the lobby, Angel had come padding down the stairs. Way too early for Angel. So early, in fact, that he'd even forgotten to get dressed and now stood bare-chested, looking at her in a vaguely startled way. Just in case he should get fully the idea that her openmouthed stare was anything more than utter surprise at seeing him emerge before the afternoon, she said flatly, "Well, hubba-hubba."
Ooh, ooh, ooh, the trademark C/A bedside scenes have made it to the books. The C/A-ness in this book is a lot like 'That Vision Thing', with Cordelia suffering through her visions and Angel worrying about her.
"I don't know," Cordelia sobbed, and at that moment the anger within Angel was entirely his own, fury at The Powers That Be who would allow such a burden to fall on her. Awkwardly, he nonetheless sat on the edge of the bed and put his arm around her. That she let him do it--- that she actually leaned into the touch--- did not strike him as a good sign.
Cordelia criticizes the Faux Angel for getting the "Angel look" wrong.
"To be honest," Cordelia said, using her most helpful voice, "you really can't pull it off. I mean, sure, you have the basic black thing down, but the overall look . . . that's not brooding. That's just plain sullen."
I love this part, so cute! How would Cordy know anyway...?
Bemused, Wesley asked, "Did you say coffin?"
"I woke up in one of those once," Angel said. "Personally, I never saw any reason to go back."
"True," Cordelia informed the man. "No coffins here. He doesn't always make his bed, though."
"Hey," Angel said, offended. "You're messing with my impressive entrance."
Some teasing :)
"There's more than one of us," Cordelia said, and slanted a look at Angel. "Most of us are even dressed."
He looked down at himself, plucking at this shirt. "What? Six buttons and I'm dressed. Ready to go. Rah-rah demon hunter."
"Puh-lease," Cordelia said. "I was a cheerleader, remember? You couldn't pull of a cheer if your unlife depenededon it."
Angel being protective.
"Lorne might be helpful," Cordelia suggested, "I could---"
"Stay here," Angel said. "You're not in any shape to be out in whatever's going down."
"Oh, and thank you for noticing so loudly."
Angel's been poisoned by a demon and is temporarily paralyzed.
Numb as he was, Angel felt a familiar lump in the mattress beneath him and knew he was back at the Hyperion Hotel, in his very own room. To judge from the smell, someone was thoughtful enough to have a glass of blood nearby. Probably Cordelia. He'd have to tell her thank you, just as soon as he could open his eyes and open his mouth and the remnants of the Slith poison weren't coursing through his veins.