Go TeamC/A
-
Title: Worth Fighting For
Author: Ficbitch82 (Christie)
Posted: 07/05
Rating: R
Category: Angst
Content: Cordelia/Angel, Buffy/Spike
Summary: Buffy asks Angel to come to Sunnydale to help with the First which forces him to face up to some home truths.
Spoilers: S3 and some of S4.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Anywhere, just tell me where it's going first.
Notes: Yes, the Beast happened. No, Cordelia wasn't possessed. No, she didn't sleep with Connor. She came back from the Higher Realms, had amnesia - when they finally got her memory back, Cordelia remembered things about Angel's past which put the big whoopsie on their relationship. What followed from there will be in (and resolved in) this story.
Thanks/Dedication:For my darling Angy (darlakane) who always kept on at me to get this one finished.
Feedback:Duh! Yes!
Do you see my guilt? Should I feel fright?
Is the fire of hesitation burning bright?
And if you want to talk about it once again,
On you I depend. I'll cry on your shoulder.
You're a friend.
'Cry' - James Blunt
Chapter 1 - The Start of Things To Come
Hobbling down into the lobby of the Hyperion, Cordelia sat down heavily on the ottoman, rubbing the lump on the back of her head. "What do you mean we're going to Sunnydale?" She asked, frowning, "Why?"
He'd dropped the bombshell fifteen minutes ago, aptly timed during the middle of a fight where Cordelia was halfway to getting her butt kicked
anyway.
Now, here she was with the egg-sized lump on the back of her head and she was not amused, so very not amused.
"Because we are." Said Angel tersely, coming in behind her. It had been like this for months - ever since Cordelia had walked back into their lives, ever since her amnesia had put the big, honking road block into their whatever (relationship, friendship - who knew any more?).
She asked a question, he bit her head off.
She looked at him, he looked away.
She tried to talk, he found a way to be Mr. Avoidance over everything.
Today was no different. "That's not an answer." She told him unnervingly, her gaze on him not wavering.
He placed the weapons back in the cabinet with the utmost care, as if the 5000 year old fighting axe hadn't seen enough rough and tumble to make it erode already. It was the one little quirk he afforded himself, placing the weapons back carefully, since vampires didn't have quirks like pulling at their ears when they were nervous or whatever.
Angel frowned, for what felt to Cordelia like the fiftieth time that second, and took a glance over the Hyperion lobby at the collection of friends who were rapidly heading into the office to avoid yet another argument. "Why is it that no one else questions my judgement?"
"Because no one knows quite how much of a dumbass you can be, unlike me." Said Cordelia, trying to sweeten his temper a little.
It didn't work.
His jaw tensed, eyes practically bulging under that big manpire forehead and Cordelia sighed, wondering why she bothered. Lately, his sense of humor had been so lacking that he was even equalling Principal Snyder in the 'crack a smile, please' stakes and that was saying something.
He'd been acting weirder than usual today, shoulders tense ever since that phone call from-- Oh.
"Buffy." Her voice fell flat before the name even left her lips. Okay, when was it that Buffy even registered as a blip on the radar for her? Hell, Angel too for that matter? He'd been getting over her, hadn't he? That was that whole phone call before she'd got called up to be Higher Being, right?
At least he has the grace to look mildly embarrassed, she thought, as Angel turned her way. She wanted to wipe the look off his face, to bitchslap him six ways from Sunday and then some. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest. "So what little crisis has little Ms. Likes to Fight conjured up this time?" She asked, her tone biting.
These past few months hadn't been easy. The tension in the Hyperion had been so thick you could have cut it with a knife and Cordelia knew that this was, in part, down to her and Angel, even if it didn't end with them. Lately, he'd taken to throwing bits of his relationship with Buffy her way. Hinting, subtly enough so that the others wouldn't notice but bitingly enough so that Cordelia could clearly see that Angel was referring to 'better days'.
God, he could be an ass sometimes.
"The First." Said Angel, looking at Cordelia but not meeting her eyes.
"You mean the First that terrorised you the only Winter that Sunnydale ever had snow?" Cordelia asked, eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise.
Angel nodded. "That's the one."
Cordelia looked at him, expectantly. A couple of years ago and Angel would have done anything to mask the fear on his face. A couple of years ago, there'd be a nervous smile, an 'everything's fine' look and a nod her way to let her know things were good. Now? He just wouldn't even look at her. She knew he was worried - hell, maybe even a little scared, but if he was? He wasn't showing her.
"Well isn't that the best news we've had all day?" She asked, dryly. The First operated on a strictly mind-fuck basis. Know someone who was dead? Then the First would exploit that for all it was worth, just to make you crazy.
For some reason, they'd wanted Angel out of the picture three years ago, or so he'd told her. When that hadn't worked, Angel had realised that his path was on earth, whether by Buffy's side or not and Cordelia was just now realising that since this was connected to them both? It meant angst-o-rama's all round.
"So tell me again why we're going to Sunnydale? We have things we need to do here, a business that needs run and... Things." She trailed off, shaking her head. That wasn't strictly true. Ever since the madness that had been the Beast, things had been uber-quiet in LA, which usually meant that evil was regrouping.
In two weeks, they'd probably have the bigger, better version of the Apocalypse on their hands.
"I promised." Said Angel, quietly.
Two simple words destined to hit where it hurt. "So, Buffy calls and, as usual, you're chomping at the bit to go running to her aid. Color me surprised." Cordelia got up off the ottoman and walked over to the freezer, retrieving an icepack for her poor aching head. It was like having vision headaches all over again, only these ones were connected to Angel and how asshatty he was being lately.
"It's not like that," Angel glared at her, finally closing the weapon cabinet doors. "She asked if we could go help, I said yes."
"Without even asking us? Gee, that's considerate." Cordelia sniped, returning his glare full force. What, he was incapable of seeing how very inappropriate that was? What if... What if she were busy? Or what if Gunn had some vampire thing to take care of with his friends?
Who the hell did he think he was, just offering out their collective services like that? She palmed the back of her head gently, thankful there was no blood there and wondering how impervious leader guy never seemed to get a scratch on him lately.
Oh, right... Vampire. More than human. Yadda, yadda...
"I didn't think you'd mind," Angel offered lamely, folding his arms across his chest. "Things have been quiet round here, Buffy needs help with the First. Cordelia, if this spreads past Sunnydale..."
She didn't need to hear this. She sighed, heavily, rolling her eyes. "Look, whatever, okay? But just so you know? I'm going under protest. We can't make things right down in Sunnydale when we can't even make things right here."
Cordelia sat back down on the ottoman, pleading silently with him to say something - anything - just so she knew that she'd got through. So she knew that her manpire wasn't entirely clueless.
Angel looked at her once, nodded and then turned, walking up the stairs as if he were satisfied with that answer.
She watched him go, torn between bursting into tears, an angry tirade of what a complete and utter ass he was being lately and throwing the icepack right up the stairs and off his stupid hair-gelled head.
Sometimes, I really really hate you. She thought forlornly, her gaze following him until he turned the corner. And then, she sighed, because that wasn't really the case at all.***
I've travelled back down this road four times, thought Angel, and each time I do, I get this knot in my stomach, like something's going to happen.
Of course, the odds were? Something would happen, Angel had long since realised. The First was involved, so the odds of that were even higher - but most of the time, something did happen.
Something always happened.
Behind him, Fred and Lorne were talking amicably about the vocal stylings of Dusty Springfield while Cordelia sat in the front, pressing herself as far away from Angel as she could possibly get.
In the truck behind, Angel noted in the rear-view mirror, Connor, Wesley and Gunn looked about as excited as he did about this trip - each wearing similar frowns on their faces.
"So where are we staying when we get to Sunnydale?" Cordelia's voice was thick with sarcasm. "You paying for a hotel or does that go beyond the call of investigating duty?"
Angel's knuckles tightened on the wheel. Sometimes, she was just so damned-- "Xander's. We're staying at Xander's."
Her face became drawn and pinched, two red spots appearing simultaneously on her cheeks. "Okay, tell me you're joking. 'Cause seriously, I have a stake in my bag with your name on it if you're not." She said, turning in her seat to glare at him.
"What?" What the hell was wrong with staying at Xander's? He didn't think she'd want to stay at Buffy's, especially not with the thousand girls
already vying for the bathroom and--
"Are you deranged?" She asked, the tone of her voice dropping several degrees below freezing, "I mean, seriously, are you crazy? Xander's?"
All talk behind them stopped. Lorne and Fred literally froze behind the pair, waiting for the inevitable blow up in the convertible.
"Batten down the hatches," Lorne mumbled under his breath to Fred, "Here we go again."
Angel took a second to glare at the Anagogic demon, before turning back to Cordelia. "Look, the last time you and Xander were together you--"
"We got on!" Cordelia gawped at him, "Jesus, Angel, that doesn't mean I want to up sticks and live with the guy while we go fight the ubersuck of all evil. Hello, were you around for the rebar incident?" She asked, perhaps unfairly.
Angel stared at her, wondering how long she could actually talk without taking a breath. She seemed to be able to go on forever, always had been able to, especially when she was pissed off at him.
"Look, it's only temporary..." He started, trying to pave things over. He could see Fred fidgeting nervously in her seat, trying her best to look anywhere but the front seat. Even that was starting to piss him off.
"Yeah, and I've heard your temporary before." Cordelia snapped, "I'm not sharing an apartment with Xander Harris."
"But--"
"No buts, Angel. If you wanna share an apartment with him, fine. But me? So very NOT, okay?"
The argument was over. Angel spun the wheel of the GTX sharply, turning off his exit and growling his annoyance to a car that cut in front of him.
For the rest of the journey, all was silent.***
"You're sure you don't mind crashing on the floor?" Asked Buffy again, for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Angel and the gang had got there an hour ago. She'd barely had time to fill them in on everything that was happening before Giles declared that training of the Potentials should come before any catching up they needed to do.
Right now, she was standing with Cordelia in her living room, aware that six different pairs of eyes were trained on their backs right now.
It was no secret that she and Cordelia had never been great friends - in fact, they'd pretty much hated each other for a lot of the time at High School. Now, the Potentials - aided by Dawn, Anya and Willow - were eager to see what kind of blow up there'd be especially since, according to Willow, when she'd been in LA? Cordelia and Angel had been indulging in the whole sexual tension thing.
Now, it seemed, there was just tension.
"Believe me," said Cordelia, with what seemed like a forced smile, "I've slept on worse."
"I told Angel you wouldn't want to stay at Xander's," Said Buffy, shaking her head, wondering when Cordelia Chase had slept on worse than her floor. "Not that I think you and Xander... Y'know, anymore? It's just... Well... Weirdness."
Cordelia's expression seemed to darken. "Yeah, but since where Angel's concerned what I want doesn't matter anymore? It's not like he'd care."
Buffy looked at Cordelia, surprised. Sure, it was weird to think of the whole sexual tension between her and Angel but the biting comments between the two since the moment they'd got here hadn't exactly been lacking. Hell, even the green demon guy (who Buffy was sure kept looking at her funny) looked uncomfortable and he said he'd seen G'Roushan Mages go through the exact same ritual when they were mating.
There was no mating, Angel had assured the room, before stalking into the kitchen, coat billowing oh-so-dramatically behind him.
Cordelia had glared after him, before turning to Buffy and asking, politely, if she was sure she didn't mind her staying here. She didn't mind, she really didn't mind - which was again, the weirdest thing ever.
"Buffy?" Giles' voice came from the foot of the stairs, his gaze concentrated on his slayer and the woman he'd often had the misfortune of receiving a tongue lashing from. "Are you ready?"
She turned, nodding and noting Angel hovering behind him nervously, as if he were waiting for someone to lash out. Cordelia, probably. "Yeah, I'll just..." Her gaze went back to Cordelia, "Are you... I mean... Are you staying here?" She asked, not wanting to just assume. Cordelia was part of Angel's business, his family, for a reason. She mightn't be a Slayer, but if there was a way she could be used tonight, Buffy didn't want to leave her behind.
"Yeah," Cordelia nodded, speaking to Buffy but making sure her comment reached Angel too, "Apparently Andrew's going to show Wes and I the brains of the operation. Some night of fun that's gonna be."
Buffy rolled her eyes, glaring first at Andrew who was standing there in all his dorkish glory, waving a be-mittened hand. "Make sure he shows you the Big Board 'cause... Really, you don't wanna miss that."
"Hey! I totally heard that." Andrew pouted, folding his arms across his chest.
"Yeah," Buffy nodded, "You were supposed to."
"Where would we be without my board? It's our plan!" He replied, indignantly.
"And so many of the others have worked," Buffy rolled her eyes again, reaching to pick her keys up from the table. "Didn't you have a plan for setting up the microwave too?"
Andrew stuck out his chin in defiance, "For once, that one wasn't my fault. I was interrupted by Jonathan-slash-The-First while I was--" He trailed off, noting the annoyed look he was being shot by everyone in the room. "Seriously, my plan can fill them in on the littler details while you're out doing the more important stuff, like, training the girls."
Sighing, Buffy realised she had to agree. Okay, so Andrew was a murderer and more than a little on the annoying side but... He was kinda useful. Well, a little. And if she didn't have to explain the whole First-deal over and over again? She was SO for that. "Okay, you show them your plan or your board or whatever you're calling it this week and we patrol."
"Hold up," Gunn stepped out from the hallway of Buffy's house, brandishing a couple of stakes and what looked like a custom-made fighting axe, "Some of us are lookin' at going out there too, not just Cordelia."
"I... Is that wise?" Giles turned to Angel, who'd appeared behind him, mildly concerned. "While we're training these girls then--"
"Then there's no-one else you want on your team." Cordelia interrupted, firmly. The look on her face said she didn't care whether they agreed or not, Gunn was part of this fight too.
"We could maybe split into teams," Buffy suggested, "Faith could take one group, I could take the other?"
"What am I taking?" Faith sauntered into the room, eating as usual, her hand buried in a bag of potato chips.
Buffy looked at the other slayer enviously, noting the fact that no matter what she ate, she never put an inch on those hips of hers. "I was talking about splitting into teams. You taking one group of girls, me taking the other. Gunn and Angel are coming along..."
Faith grinned, "Working alongside two of my favourite guys again? Sure. Just point me in the right direction and I'm there."
"Okay," Buffy nodded, "Spike, Giles... You're with me. Angel, Gunn? You're with Faith."
Angel looked wounded for a moment, something he quickly masked when the others looked his way. When the weapons were handed out and the troops were going out the door, backed up from the rear by Angel, Cordelia glanced up, the temperature in the room dropping another notch.
"Gee," She said under her breath so that no one but Angel could hear. "Looks like you don't get the whole reunion after all."
Angel stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards her. It looked like Buffy was going to have to step in and play mediator between the two, unresolved tension crackled and sparked until Angel leaned close, so close that his cheek was almost pressed against Cordelia's, and whispered something unheard by the rest of the room.
Then, he spun on his heel and was gone, leaving a very pissed off Cordelia standing right there in the middle of Buffy's living room.
Buffy watched Cordelia a second, her bottom lip quivering faintly. For the barest of seconds, Buffy was sure she'd cry, until Cordelia straightened up, cleared her throat and visibly pulled herself together. "So, Andrew... How 'bout that board?"
Andrew beamed.
Buffy sighed and headed out behind Angel, pulling the door shut quietly behind her. Something was going on between those two and the more time they spent together, the worse it was getting. Somehow, bringing them down here was beginning to look more and more like a bad idea.
Chapter 2 - Visitors, Vampires and Visions, oh My!Tapping her spoon lightly against her mug of coffee, Cordelia read over the daily newspaper, catching up on what was happening in the world of the 'Dale right now. The new Mayor (thankfully not Mayor Wilkins the 7th) was planning new renovations to City Hall, there was an increase in suspicious deaths in Sunnydale (seriously, how long did it take them to catch on?) and some star (big in the 80's, if she recalled correctly) was trying to revive her flagging career with a biography signing at the Mall that week.
"Give it up already," Cordelia told the picture attached to the featurette of the singer, shaking her head, "Your career was over 15 years ago, at least."
It was early morning, crack of Dawn early morning and no-one but her in the Summers household was awake. The Potentials, following a late night's slayage, were all sleeping in various positions on Buffy's cramped living room floor. Upstairs, Buffy and the others were safely in the land of nod which left Cordelia (if you didn't include Spike, him being like a non-person and all) sitting and grabbing an early morning breather before everything started up again.
Lorne, as he'd insisted last night, had gone to a hotel room, declaring he'd be by after lunch ("because we night owls never raise before then, Plumcake..."). Angel and the others were currently snoozing at Xander's, giving new meaning to the word cramped.
She had the kitchen to herself, which was just the way she liked it.
Until Doyle appeared.
Cordelia got such a fright she knocked her mug over, spilling black coffee all over the Formica bench.
"Is that any way to greet a guy?" Doyle demanded, smiling that smile that Cordelia had wished she could see for months after he'd-- Oh.
"I know what you are." She frowned, grabbing some kitchen roll from the other counter. "You're not him."
"Who else would I be, Princess?"
Princess... Cordelia blinked, her hand stilling against the counter, her heart aching. Beneath her fingers, the warm liquid soaked onto the kitchen roll and going right through.
"I expected more conversation, truth be told." Doyle grinned, making himself comfortable as he leaned against Buffy's refrigerator, "Maybe a 'Doyle, lovely to see ya' or a... 'Damnit, you waited this long?'"
"You're not him." Cordelia said again, and for a moment, she thought it would all be okay if she just kept telling herself that. All she had to do was repeat that mantra, It's not him, it's not him, it's not him...
"You mad at me for the visions?"
Doyle's question caught her off guard. She looked up and blinked a couple of times, regarding him with weary eyes. "Huh?"
"You," He said again, "Mad at me for the visions 'cause... If I'd known what was gonna happen, I'd have never... Well, y'know."
"Put me through excruciating pain? Almost killed me and got me possessed by an apocalypse causing demon thing? Which one would you 'never' have done?"
Doyle (no, not Doyle) looked uncomfortable and damnit, he should. Cordelia glared at him, mopping up the rest of the coffee with another piece of kitchen roll. She tossed the soakened tissues in the trash, turning back towards him with her patented 'don't piss me off' look. "Well?"
"I'm sorry for all of that," He told her, "But I'm not sorry for fallin' in love with you, Princess. Never have been."
Cordelia swallowed, hard. Not real, not real, not real... "Look, I get it, okay? Big First Evil, taunty with the memories of my poor dead friend and everything but... Over this! So very over this. And some big bad isn't gonna make me weak in the knees just 'cause it can put on a certain face and tell me things that it thinks I wanna hear."
It looked genuinely puzzled (and it was so much easier to think of it as an 'it' and not as Doyle). It looked like Cordelia had just clued it in to some big secret that had previously been unheard of. "Maybe," It conceded, "But if I was evil, wouldn't I be telling you things you didn't wanna hear?"
Great. Evil and using logic. This is just great.
"Not necessarily." She muttered, shaking her head. "You could be like... The Anti-Evil or something. There to perplex me and make my life a living hell that way."
"Oh, there's time for the living hell, darlin'." It shook its head just like she had, but its movements were slow, sad. It was sympathising with her. "You know what's gonna come down, you saw it in that vision of yours. Everything the Beast promised, this evil down here's gonna implement it and... You gotta pick what side you're on."
"I have my side," Said Cordelia, firmly. "I know my place in life and--"
"That's not exactly true any more, is it?" It lifted a hand, scratching at the side of its head and the gesture was so Doyle-like, it made Cordelia want to cry.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She snapped, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into tears. Of course she knew her place in life. It was by Angel's side, wasn't it? She'd promised him that she'd be there, the day he Shanshued... She'd be by his side.
"You do know what I'm talking about, Cordelia." It nodded, wisely. Evil, the very First Evil. Of course it was wise - or pretending to be - it'd seen the very dregs of humanity, the worst in people. How else would it look at her like that if it hadn't? "It's sad to say it, Princess, but you and Angel? You ain't never gonna get back to the way you once were. You're not the type to linger when things just aren't there any more..."
"Get out." Cordelia whispered, not daring to let her voice get any louder. She couldn't look at it, couldn't let her gaze move up because it would see that it was right. Things were never going to be the same between her and Angel, not now, not ever. Why she was even sticking around when it was so obvious was--
"You okay, luv?"
The voice behind her startled her so much that Cordelia spun, fist raised and ready to lash out.
Spike was quicker. He grabbed her wrist and held it in his hand for almost a full second before his eyebrows drew downwards in confusion. "What's up?" He asked, lowering her fist back to her side.
"I just had a visit." She breathed out, loosening her hand from the fist it'd been balled into.
"The First." It wasn't a question. "Who?"
"The Mick." She smiled tightly, "Y'know, the one who's spine you threatened to snap two years ago when you tortured Angel?"
Spike grimaced and in his eyes, Cordelia could see the pain parade Angel had travelled down every day for as long as she could remember. "I remember." He murmured darkly, stepping back a little.
"Sorry." She said without thinking, not knowing exactly why she was apologising. "I didn't mean to-- Coffee?"
"No, thanks." Spike shook his head, "Not exactly my beverage of choice."
Without thinking, Cordelia went to the fridge and pulled out a packet of pigs blood, grabbing a mug. Before Spike had time to protest, she'd pierced the bag with a pair of scissors and was in the process of watching the blood spray into the cup.
Spike's stomach growled, making Cordelia look up. "Was that you?"
If he could have blushed, he would have - vampires weren't exactly prone to bodily functions like a rumbling stomach. "Hunger pangs," He explained, "Haven't eaten in a while."
"Here." She handed him the cup and sat herself back down at the counter, pouring out another cup of coffee. "Sleep well?"
"Like the dead." Spike deadpanned, giving her a strange look before morphing into his vampiric visage and draining the cup of its contents. He placed the cup back on the counter, gaining a well-deserved chorus of "Pig!" from Cordelia, before meeting her eyes. "So, what'd it say?"
"What?"
"The First." Spike leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. "What'd it say to you?"
"Oh, y'know, the usual..." Cordelia shrugged, "You're going to die, yadda yadda, pick a side, yadda yadda..."
"That's it?" Spike looked at her, curiously. "You look kinda rattled, luv... No offence."
"None taken." Said Cordelia, suddenly finding something very interesting in the bottom of her coffee cup. What was she supposed to do, pour her heart out to Spike, tell him what Doyle had said about Angel? About everything?
Sure, why not. And then she could take an ad out in the Sunnydale Gazette so that the hard-of-hearing population of Sunnydale would know all about her woes too.
"So what's up with you and Captain Forehead then?" Spike asked, half heartedly.
"Huh?" Play it cool, thought Cordelia, maybe he'll forget he asked.
"Angel." Said Spike, arching the scarred eyebrow that, in Cordelia's eyes, made him look all the more dangerous (and okay, maybe just a little sexy). "You and the Nancy Boy. I thought you two were pretty tight..."
"Me too." Cordelia sighed, before she could stop herself. Okay, so this was progress. Instead of telling him what the First had said she was telling him about her woes with Angel and oh God, just kill her now. She fingered her necklace nervously, searching for a way to bridge the gap in conversation. "We uh... We just..."
"You two shagged, huh?" Spike asked, half-bemused.
"Excuse me?!"
"Y'know," Spike leered, "Shagged, bumped uglies, got groiny with one another--"
"I'm familiar with the concept, yeah." Cordelia snapped, interrupting his little tirade. "And for your information, no, we didn't."
Not for lack of wanting to on my part... Thought Cordelia, forlornly. And, if I'm right about him, which I think I am. His too. So what the hell was with them? Why couldn't they just get it on or together or whatever the cool kids were calling it these days?
Simple. Because Cordelia had let memories that weren't even hers build a wall between them and now, that wall stood like an unclimbable mountain. With a castle. And some big freakin' dragon guarding the gate. The damsel was no closer to being rescued than Andrew was to becoming 15 per cent more manly.
Spike looked at her, "I just thought--"
"Well, you thought wrong." She told him with a sigh. "You saw what it was like last night. Hell, that was one of the tamer versions of the Cordelia and Angel show..."
Cordelia rolled her eyes, sarcasm being her best weapon of defence right now, even if Spike wasn't attacking. She took another drink of her coffee, waiting for Spike to say something. Didn't he want to know what was really going on with them? Why they seemed to be fighting at, like, every opportunity? If it'd been anyone else they would have asked already but Spike seemed content to just look at her, try to figure it out on his own.
Good luck with that, Bucko, thought Cordelia dryly, taking another drink of her coffee, If Angel can't figure it out then you haven't got a cat in hell's chance of--
"So you're in love with Angel, that much I get," said Spike, startling Cordelia. A smile spread across his face, one of those 'ha, gotcha!' smiles and Cordelia wanted to kick him for looking so goddamn smug. "It's the other stuff that's confusing me. What the hell happened between you two?"
"Oh, you're good." She said, tersely (after all, it wasn't like it wasn't common knowledge or anything, was it?), "I mean you can just look at me with the big forlorn eyes and just know that I'm in love with him?"
"You hurt me, pet, really you do." Spike smirked, amused. He patted his shirt down, taking his cigarettes from his pocket before offering Cordelia one. She declined with a shake of her head, watching as he stuck one in his mouth. Spike was here for the long haul, it seemed, offering her a shoulder to cry on.
It seemed stupid - hell, more than stupid. Who'd have thought that three months after being zapped up into the heavens to become a Higher Being she'd be sitting here pouring her heart out to Spike over coffee?
"So what's up then?"
Cordelia tapped her nails against the counter, sighing. "I just... I just thought it'd be different, I guess. I came back from high up, no memories... All I had was Angel, the guys. I didn't have memories, so they gave me new ones and then..."
"What?" Spike asked, lighting his cigarette, despite the eye roll from Cordelia, "Then what?"
"They found a spell," Said Cordelia quietly, "Lorne, he-- He got my memories back only by the time I remembered him doing it? I remembered all the other stuff too..."
"Like what?"
"All the stuff the Powers had shown me," she whispered, "Like, everyone he killed. Every victim Angelus ever made bleed just because he could. I know it wasn't him, Spike, I always did know that but... Seeing it, feeling what they'd felt like I'd been through it all terrified me. I didn't know how to get back from that and by the time I did everything between Angel and I was just... Gone. Destroyed. I don't know how to bridge the gap between us and I don't even think he wants to try."
Cordelia paused, took a deep breath. She hadn't said that much since the day she had come back and Angel had been trying to convince her that this was all real, that she was their friend and hadn't been kidnapped. She blinked, staring at Spike - just when, exactly, had he been the right one to open up to? Surely that should be reserved for someone she actually liked?
"Wow," She murmured, looking down at her cup, "Once I open my mouth I just don't stop, huh?"
"Not your fault," Spike shrugged, taking a draw of his cigarette, "You just needed someone to talk to, that's all."
"So what d'you suggest, Dr. Spike?" Asked the brunette, dryly. "You seem to be the guy with the knowledge around here - well, in that you're the only one that kinda makes sense."
"That's not a compliment," Spike frowned, "Bloody Andrew lives here."
Cordelia laughed. Last night had been... Well, interesting, she guessed. Andrew was like the biggest geek on the planet - right at home with Xander and all his oblique Star Trek references that Cordelia had never got three years ago when she'd been dating the doofus. He'd showed her his Big Board, talked about The First like he was on kinda-friendly terms with it, just because it had showed up and decided that he was the big gun of the hour.
Andrew was a dork. Thankfully, having been around Xander for most of her young adult life, Cordelia knew exactly how to deal with him. The tongue mightn't be as acidic as it had once been but the eyebrow? Still worked wonders. As soon as Cordelia had arched the eyebrow (after Andrew had referred to her as the 'Reformed-One') he'd scuttled off upstairs, leaving Cordelia and Wesley alone.
They'd talked, briefly, Wesley enquiring in his usual halting manner about how things were progressing with Angel until Cordelia had laughed and said that things weren't progressing at all. If anything, things were regressing. And wasn't that the truth?
And then there was that avenue, too. Wesley. Wesley who she'd barely talked to since her return. Wesley who was still obviously smarting from the entire 'my-friends-abandoned-me' deal and, seriously, had she been possessed then too? Because, hello, there were issues with that. Major issues with that.
Cordelia looked at Spike, grinning her apology for the backhanded compliment she'd given before shaking her head, "I guess maybe it's just time I faced facts..."
"And what facts are those, luv?"
"The ones where me and Angel maybe aren't meant to be after all?" It was surprising how much that thought hurt. The First had said it to her not two minutes ago and Cordelia had forced it from her mind, determined that if she was going to think it, she'd think it by her rules, only...
Well these were her rules. She was standing here being all inner-moppet spanky with Spike and she didn't want to admit that she wasn't supposed to be with Angel. She didn't want to not think about the thousand different moments where Angel had been more than her friend, only she'd been too stupid to notice.
That night at the ballet, where they'd been possessed enough into undressing each other. Her birthday, when she'd been launched out of her body by the ubersuck of visions and Angel had just been this close to saying that he loved her, that he couldn't imagine living without her. He was going to say that, she was sure of it. And then, all the other moments since then. That moment upstairs in the Hyperion, where they'd almost kissed and it had all been so perfect and... And she'd stopped! She'd stopped that kiss and now, now they were just nowhere. No relationship, hell, barely even a friendship and she was sitting here talking to Spike - Spike - about all of this!
Stubbing out his cigarette on the counter, Spike stood up, drawing her attention back to him. "Look, I'm gonna level with you. I've spent a hundred plus years around that wanker and honestly? He's never changed. He's a bloody martyr, Cordelia. That's what he is - just gotta take the path with the most angst down it or else it's not a good path at all. Talk to him, tell him what's going on. Sooner or later you're gonna become just another reason for him to brood and you don't want that any more than I do, right?"
"That sounds great," said Cordelia, miserably, "I'll just walk up to him later and say 'hey, I'm in love with you, get with the program, Mister!' Pfft!" Her eyes narrowed, "How come you make it sound so easy when I've noticed some pretty hefty tension between you and a certain Slayer?"
Spike's entire body language changed, closed off, "That's different."
"Why?" Cordelia's gaze softened. "Look, I did the whole share my pain thing, now it's your turn."
"Sorry luv," Spike shook his head, "Not in for a round of that unless I got my pal Jack Daniels sitting alongside me if y'know what I mean... Just... Talk to him. Tell him what's going on. It's the only way you're gonna get out of what funk you and the wanker are in."
Cordelia watched carefully, folding her arms across her chest. "Y'know, one of these days? You're gonna have to do all this inner moppet spanking on yourself."
"Maybe so," Spike conceded, nodding, "But not here. Not today. You gonna tell him?"
A pained look passed across her face. "Tell him what? That I love him? That I'm sorry? There's a lot to tell him, Spike," She said softly, "Only I don't know where to start."
"The beginning," he replied, decisively, "Start at the beginning. Tell him you screwed up, you're sorry - and if it's not too much trouble for the brooding wonder, you'd like to move on while you've still got young blood in those veins."
Cordelia sighed, "You think it'll work?"
Spike shrugged, "From the sounds of it? You've tried everything but being honest. Give it a shot."