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edenfallingI am trying to exorcise an evil, nasty Angel plot bunny, which was brought on by a song that's been running through my head off and on for the past week. I know the last line, I know the plot, but I'm not quite sure how to put it together. This is a stab at the beginning.
Takes place early season 3, probably; I'm a little sketchy on the series timeline.
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He Had a Little Cat...
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The case began when Cordelia's neighbor stumbled from his apartment and crashed into her in a haze of singed herbs. Cordelia was understandably upset, particularly since the smoke clung to her dress all through the afternoon.
"If he had to try an exorcism," she complained to Angel and Wesley when she brought her neighbor to the Hyperion, "the least he could have done was open a window. Then he wouldn't have stinky herb smell all over him, and my dry-cleaning bill wouldn't be about to go through the roof! This stuff never comes out." The neighbor shrugged apologetically.
Cordelia had, by that point in her life, enough experience to know magic when she smelled it, and cornered Elliot Johnson -- that being her neighbor's name -- until he admitted that yes, he had been trying to exorcise something. That was when she dragged him off to the hotel.
What he was trying to exorcise was a trifle more complicated.
"I have this cat, see," he began.
"You're exorcising a cat," Angel said flatly.
Johnson flinched. "Well, sort of. See, it's sort of a curse, actually."
Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "You were cursed by a cat?"
"Not really. Just listen!" Johnson waved his hands a few times as if trying to pull an explanation from thin air. "It's like this," he finally settled on. "See, back around the Civil War, my great-great-grandfather found a cat in his house. And he hated cats. So he tried to get rid of it, but it always came back. Then he tried to kill it, but nobody ever could; if you try, something always goes wrong and you get hurt instead.
"The cat passes down to the next generation, and now it's mine. I wouldn't mind, really -- it's a nice enough cat -- but I'm getting married and Julie hates cats. So I thought, if I couldn't kill it or give it away, maybe I could exorcise it, because it has to be some sort of supernatural thing, right?"
Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia stared at him.
"Really, it's true!" Johnson said. "There's even a song about it. You know, 'The Cat Came Back'? This is the cat." He pointed at the animal, a small, innocuous tabby, which lay curled in a box on Angel's desk.
"Right," Cordelia said finally.
"So can you help me?" Johnson asked.
Wesley and Angel exchanged glances. "We'll work on it," Wesley finally said. "Will you be available tomorrow afternoon?"
"Sure! Anytime!" Johnson beamed at the group, scooped up his cat box, and dashed out of the hotel.
"Okay. That was weirder than usual," Cordelia said. "I thought we just did apocalypses and slimy demons, not cats. And my dress still stinks!"
Angel just shrugged helplessly and followed Wesley to the books.
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I don't particularly like the execution here -- I want to compress it a LOT -- but at least I've got some of it OUT of my head and down in print.
Off to paint window frames.
Takes place early season 3, probably; I'm a little sketchy on the series timeline.
--------------------------------------
He Had a Little Cat...
--------------------------------------
The case began when Cordelia's neighbor stumbled from his apartment and crashed into her in a haze of singed herbs. Cordelia was understandably upset, particularly since the smoke clung to her dress all through the afternoon.
"If he had to try an exorcism," she complained to Angel and Wesley when she brought her neighbor to the Hyperion, "the least he could have done was open a window. Then he wouldn't have stinky herb smell all over him, and my dry-cleaning bill wouldn't be about to go through the roof! This stuff never comes out." The neighbor shrugged apologetically.
Cordelia had, by that point in her life, enough experience to know magic when she smelled it, and cornered Elliot Johnson -- that being her neighbor's name -- until he admitted that yes, he had been trying to exorcise something. That was when she dragged him off to the hotel.
What he was trying to exorcise was a trifle more complicated.
"I have this cat, see," he began.
"You're exorcising a cat," Angel said flatly.
Johnson flinched. "Well, sort of. See, it's sort of a curse, actually."
Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "You were cursed by a cat?"
"Not really. Just listen!" Johnson waved his hands a few times as if trying to pull an explanation from thin air. "It's like this," he finally settled on. "See, back around the Civil War, my great-great-grandfather found a cat in his house. And he hated cats. So he tried to get rid of it, but it always came back. Then he tried to kill it, but nobody ever could; if you try, something always goes wrong and you get hurt instead.
"The cat passes down to the next generation, and now it's mine. I wouldn't mind, really -- it's a nice enough cat -- but I'm getting married and Julie hates cats. So I thought, if I couldn't kill it or give it away, maybe I could exorcise it, because it has to be some sort of supernatural thing, right?"
Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia stared at him.
"Really, it's true!" Johnson said. "There's even a song about it. You know, 'The Cat Came Back'? This is the cat." He pointed at the animal, a small, innocuous tabby, which lay curled in a box on Angel's desk.
"Right," Cordelia said finally.
"So can you help me?" Johnson asked.
Wesley and Angel exchanged glances. "We'll work on it," Wesley finally said. "Will you be available tomorrow afternoon?"
"Sure! Anytime!" Johnson beamed at the group, scooped up his cat box, and dashed out of the hotel.
"Okay. That was weirder than usual," Cordelia said. "I thought we just did apocalypses and slimy demons, not cats. And my dress still stinks!"
Angel just shrugged helplessly and followed Wesley to the books.
--------------------------------------
I don't particularly like the execution here -- I want to compress it a LOT -- but at least I've got some of it OUT of my head and down in print.
Off to paint window frames.
