"Stupid keys…he just has to have one for the front door…and one for the first office door…and then one for the door to his office…not to mention the keys to his apartment and to the plethora of filing cabinets the man has." The dark-haired beauty griped to herself as she fumbled for the right key to Angel's apartment.

When Cordelia had woken up this morning, she'd realized far too quickly that she'd left a script in her boss' apartment that she'd been reading there during her babysitting the family of the demon duties. She needed that script for an audition that day, thus her minor entering without permission.

Cordelia's nimble fingers finally found the right key and slid it into the elevator's key lock and slid the gate up. Hey, with any luck, Angel would be out like a….well, like whatever a vampire would out like, and she could pick up the script, maybe a little breakfast, and be gone before Angel could whine about anything.

Tip-toeing in on sneaker-clad feet, Cordy slinked into the apartment, turning on the first lamp she saw in the dim light from the elevator. She froze when she first heard whimpering coming from the couch, and then saw the curve of a pale, naked back. A pale, naked male back. And it was a pretty nice back…and it was Wesley!

To her complete shock, Cordelia saw the lean, un-spectacled face of her former obsession when the back turned. He looked at her without speaking. She could see the ghosts of tears stained into his cheeks, his eyes glinting with still more unshed tears in the faintly lit apartment. Cordelia hesitated for a split second before joining him on the couch and laying his head down on her ample chest.

She felt his tears soak her tee-shirt as he released whatever horrible grief he had inside of him. As her hands made comforting circles on his back and head, Cordy idly wondered if his tears had anything to do with Angel calling him Doyle. Or maybe, hadn't that Ethsomethingorother demon told Wesley he was useless? Well, hell. Now Cordelia had to reintroduce a concept to her emotional vocabulary: guilt.

She knew that she hadn't been the most supportive and kind of Wesley's joining the Angel Investigations team. But, hey, a girl had to consider her finances, right? Cordelia ran on hand through Wes' sweat damp hair, ewwing slightly over the moistness, as she attempted to castigate herself for being her usual self.

Nope, not gonna work. Guilt is just so passe, ya know? At the very least, however, she could try to get Wesley to talk about why he was crying, and for that matter, why he was half-naked and crying on Angel's couch at 6:30 A.M..

"Wesley?" She began gently; after all, there was no sense in scaring him off. It felt kinda nice to have a needy guy at her breast, as long as he didn't get any ideas about suckage of any kind.

"I am…so…very sorry…Ms. Chase…for…for…imposing on you…like this." Wesley gasped out, in between gulping sobs.

"Oh, no big. I mean, I have to do something around here to earn my keep, right? Don't answer that." Cordelia's voice lowered, became softer. "Wes, are you okay? I've never known you to cry like your best friend just died at the drop of a hat and besides that I wouldn't think you'd choose to do so in your boss' apartment…"

Eeek. Her thought processes came to a screeching halt. Cordelia had completely forgotten her little prank on Valentine's Day. She'd actually gotten a friend to do most of the work, but she had tied the final bow before whisking the blindfold off Wes before scampering off to giggle at the thought of Angel's face when he saw the trussed up Wesley. If something actually befitting the holiday had happened, that would explain the weird tension between them for the last few days.

Lost in her musings, Cordelia almost missed the sudden absence of a head at her now soaked tee-shirt clad chest. "Hey, it's not every man who gets to lay his head on my breasts, stay put…besides I'm comforting you…allow yourself to be comforted. Now, tell me why you're crying." She made circles with one hand on one of his shoulders while she waited for him to speak.

"Cordelia, I don't…I don't believe I really should…it's quite…quite private you see."

The deceptively casual figure under Wesley harrumphed. "Oh, please, private schmirvrate. I'm already 99.9% sure that you and the undead booty that pays our bills got very very horizontal, I just think you need to tell someone why you're crying, unless of course you're crying because of Angel, and then I'm not sure that my innocent ears can handle it."

The last earned a weak chuckle from Wes, and Cordelia grinned to herself in triumph. She hadn't lost her touch yet.

"I was sleeping…and I began to dream again, only this time Angelus made my father a vampire and they…played with me."

Cordelia winced. So, his tears did have something to do with feelings of inadequacy. Dream? This was another dream? Add that to the things-to-worm-out-of-Angel list.

Wesley continued, his broken voice growing stronger as he continued to speak.

"I fear that some part of me has never recovered from my father's abuse. He was…he really had an amazing cruel streak in him, for a human being with a soul. The Ethros demon knew that, he taunted me with my father's hatred for me. And then…then," his voice broke again, tears entering his voice.

"Shhhh….it's okay, I'm here, I'm here." Cordelia soothed Wesley as best she could with her inane words and undemanding physical contact.

"Then…he told Angel that I'd plotted to kill him…I don't think I could kill Angel now, even should Angelus return. I would only see the face of the first man to make love to me…" Wesley fell into weeping again. Gaining some control after a few minutes, he whispered, "Angel doesn't need me, and he can't trust me, you have said so yourself Cordelia, and I don't blame you at all. You were just being honest."

"Wes, you English nincompoop, I'd tell anyone who tried to horn in on my gig that they were…extraneous," the word came out triumphantly as the former May Queen showed off her SAT vocab skills, "but that doesn't mean I, and Angel, don't appreciate you. Like I said, it's not everyone I let rest their weary heads on my perfectly proportioned chest. Wes, without you, and Angel, I'd be completely alone here…I guess you guys are like the annoying older brothers I never had."

"You wouldn't rather have this Doyle gadding about?"

Cordelia was quiet for a minute, trying to think of a way of saying what she wanted to say. "I would rather have Doyle gadding about…but I wouldn't give you up to get him back, okay?"

Wesley raised his head to look her in the eyes. His tear-streaked face was solemn. "Thank you, Cordelia, for being honest. May I…." he hesitated.

"Put your head back down, there's nothing to fear, and at least until my audition tonight, I've got you, Wesley, and I'm not letting go."

The two bodies on the couch made themselves more comfortable, Wesley spooning behind Cordelia's curvaceous figure. Before she settled down, she nodded at Angel, who had been standing in the doorway to his bedroom during her talk with Wesley. As she turned off the lamp, she saw one dark tear slide off the handsome visage of her undead boss. They both turned away at the same time: Angel to his lonely bedroom, and brooding; Cordelia to her warm embrace and dreams of international stardom.