"Oh you look heartbroken," I laughed, recognising *that* face from our bickering days. "Don't even try it, Wesley, I've got names for every one of your facial expressions."
Although funnily enough? I didn't have one for that moment when he'd got his memories back. I guess it was true, I really hadn't been around all that much when his life had been falling apart.
My good mood soured when I thought of that. Was I ever going to be able to make it up to him?
"What's wrong with this store?"
Oh, he was on crack. He was so on crack. Forget the fact that he hadn't had a drink in a while, he needed help, stat! Since when had I ever shopped in a discount shoe store, hmm? Not since the really really early days of Angel Investigations and to be honest? I don't even think he'd been around then.
"God, alright, alright, I'd just like to point out that I don't need any new shoes."Immediately, I looked down. Truth be told, I hadn't even noticed the shoes, not even when I was in his body. True to form, however, his shoes matched
( ... )
And again with the naming of my facial expressions. She must've been really bored to be doing that. Either that or I only had a few. Bloody hell, does that make me like Angel? Who had about four. God, I hope not. "What kind of names?" I asked curiously, but before I got dragged off toward this dreadful store
( ... )
My eyes were already glazed over as I started looking at all the shoes. "What kind of names?" Hmmm. "Well, there was the 'I'm about to give you a speech and you're not going to like it' face. And the 'I'm smarter than you, Cordelia' face - which never worked, by the way. Then you had the simpler kind of faces like... Your geeky face. In which you'd found some ancient text or whatever. And your translating face which was, like, the epitomy of frustrated and-- Oooh, Jimmy Choo's!"
I grinned, headed over to my happy place and looked at all the shoes I'd never been able to afford since my days of Daddy and the Credit Cards.
Of course my joy was shortlived. Aura happened - the way Aura usually did - and I was standing there trying to explain away the fact that, hey, I had a funeral! It was utter torture, listening to her after the whole explanation of the death thing. She was married now, happy, and I couldn't help but get a little twinge, selfish though it was. Marriage? Being happy? Ha. Save that
( ... )
Raising an eyebrow at that, I blinked at her. She actually did have all kinds of names for my faces. Which made me wonder just how much time she spend being bored enough to watch me. And here I thought that I was the watcher. Ex.. or otherwise. It actually made me smile a little. Then again, she had names for Angels faces as well. All four of them. Though, I suppose I do feel a little proud that my name faces weren't 'thinking one,' 'thinking two'. Like Angel had Brooding face number two. Though, I really could tell them apart. Í usually noticed his body language, which told me far more then his non existent facial expressions
( ... )
I was about to lead her to some store, to get some clothes. I don't think she cared anymore which store, and that alone worried me. Then we'd go home, order some food, buy some chocolate on the way. And ice-cream, Cordelia used to eat ice-cream when she felt bad. Chocolate and strawberry. Then we'd go home, sit in the dark and be depressed. Or go to bed early, whichever. I don't think there'll be much talking anymore
( ... )
I realised what kind of state I must be in - breathing heavy, look of abject terror on my face. One guy even stopped to see if I was okay but I glared at him so hard that I almost bore holes through the back of his head.
"Cordelia?"
I flinched when I heard his voice behind me. I didn't want to turn and face him but what option did I have? I didn't want to run away, I didn't want to not be by his side... But I didn't want to look at him and see... What, disgust? He knew everything about Connor, knew everything about Lilah now and he hadn't turned away yet.
I felt like my insides were folding in two. Everything hurt. I missed Fred. I missed... I missed us. I just wanted to go back and have it not happen any more...
"Please don't run away, Cordy," he whispered quietly and I looked up, mortified
( ... )
She didn't seem to want to look at me. Was the realization of what had happened enough to remind her how disgusted she'd been with me? Is with me? I don't know. But the hand reaching out for her drops and I cast my eyes toward the ground again.
I'm about to leave her alone when it takes her so long to turn around. To-to acknowledge me, when her voice comes. I look up hesitantly, frowning at her question. "What was I supposed to think?" I say quietly. "I'm sorry if I upset you. That wasn't my intention. It-I...I should probably think before opening my mouth." Even though it *had* been funny to see the look on her face
( ... )
What was he supposed to think? That I'd never leave him, not now. He was all I had. Didn't he know that? Didn't he get that the whole reasoning behind my being here was him?
Apparently not because he was apologising, telling me he hadn't meant to hurt me. It was kind of ironic because it was Wesley saying that he should think before he spoke, not me, and that was always something he used to go wacky over.
"Really, Cordelia, can't you think before you speak?" "Tact, Cordelia, it's a marvellous thing."
"Can we go home?" I ask, tiredly. I've had enough. I want to maybe curl up on a sofa somewhere and just not deal with the world. Ever. God, that sounds nice. I would even say yes to some of the pink stuff Wesley bought last night, I think, glancing upwards as Wesley kisses my temple.
"We'll be fine. We'll get through this.""Will we?" For the first time in my life, I'm not sure. The PTB sent me back here, ordered me to help... And at the first hurdle - okay, the fifth, whatever - I break. Every carefully crafted response I
( ... )
Oh dear lord. I know that look. I've seen that look before. Usually it was aimed at Angel when he was calling her bluff. Or Gunn. But I don't think I've ever seen that look aimed at me. At least not more then once. Twice. Alright, maybe three times. But the point is, I know that look
( ... )
I realise my mistake as soon as he sets his bowl down, sits back on his couch. Two, three years ago? My doing this would have had Wes shrieking like a baby man and running for the next exit so he could, like, entertain himself for the next hour and a half while blushing furiously.
And as if I didn't know about the changes we'd both gone through? Wes' eyes take on a strange glint. No shrieking like a baby man and running for the next exit here. Not a chance.
"Is there any particular good reason I should stop you?"
"That depends," I whisper, my movements stalling for just a second, "Do you want to stop me?" My voice is low, husky. I'm watching as his tongue creeps out again, wetting his lips, realising we're on dangerous territory here. I probably could have explained it if we'd done the whole talking thing, spanked our inner moppets - had a little comfort roll in the proverbial hay so to speak. But this is different. Our teasing reached new levels and I'm not sure how to get back from that. I'm not sure I want to.
Well, isn't this an interesting shift in...things. We've always been close, and I know that if things hadn't gotten in the way, things might've been differently. Things such as say...a kiss gone horribly wrong in a library when we were both far to young. Not ready. Actually, I think that's exactly where it went wrong
( ... )
I watch as Wesley gets up off his couch and walks towards me, my ice cream forgotten. He's so close by again, warm, constant... And I'm back in that parking lot again, wanting to press my mouth to his. I denied it, sure, kissing my best friend in amongst all that pain wasn't the best plan I'd ever had. But this is different...
It's different because we're different and Wesley's telling me that this was my idea, that he doesn't object, and his voice is low, gravelly.
"I think the question should be, oh my fair Cordelia, do you want to stop?"I don't answer him when he asks that. I watch the corners of his mouth curve upwards and I'm torn between wanting to kiss him there, press my lips against his... And keep going with what I started. I look at him from beneath lowered lashes as my fingers keep undoing buttons
( ... )
Comments 46
Although funnily enough? I didn't have one for that moment when he'd got his memories back. I guess it was true, I really hadn't been around all that much when his life had been falling apart.
My good mood soured when I thought of that. Was I ever going to be able to make it up to him?
"What's wrong with this store?"
Oh, he was on crack. He was so on crack. Forget the fact that he hadn't had a drink in a while, he needed help, stat! Since when had I ever shopped in a discount shoe store, hmm? Not since the really really early days of Angel Investigations and to be honest? I don't even think he'd been around then.
"God, alright, alright, I'd just like to point out that I don't need any new shoes."Immediately, I looked down. Truth be told, I hadn't even noticed the shoes, not even when I was in his body. True to form, however, his shoes matched ( ... )
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My eyes were already glazed over as I started looking at all the shoes. "What kind of names?" Hmmm. "Well, there was the 'I'm about to give you a speech and you're not going to like it' face. And the 'I'm smarter than you, Cordelia' face - which never worked, by the way. Then you had the simpler kind of faces like... Your geeky face. In which you'd found some ancient text or whatever. And your translating face which was, like, the epitomy of frustrated and-- Oooh, Jimmy Choo's!"
I grinned, headed over to my happy place and looked at all the shoes I'd never been able to afford since my days of Daddy and the Credit Cards.
Of course my joy was shortlived. Aura happened - the way Aura usually did - and I was standing there trying to explain away the fact that, hey, I had a funeral! It was utter torture, listening to her after the whole explanation of the death thing. She was married now, happy, and I couldn't help but get a little twinge, selfish though it was. Marriage? Being happy? Ha. Save that ( ... )
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I realised what kind of state I must be in - breathing heavy, look of abject terror on my face. One guy even stopped to see if I was okay but I glared at him so hard that I almost bore holes through the back of his head.
"Cordelia?"
I flinched when I heard his voice behind me. I didn't want to turn and face him but what option did I have? I didn't want to run away, I didn't want to not be by his side... But I didn't want to look at him and see... What, disgust? He knew everything about Connor, knew everything about Lilah now and he hadn't turned away yet.
I felt like my insides were folding in two. Everything hurt. I missed Fred. I missed... I missed us. I just wanted to go back and have it not happen any more...
"Please don't run away, Cordy," he whispered quietly and I looked up, mortified ( ... )
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I'm about to leave her alone when it takes her so long to turn around. To-to acknowledge me, when her voice comes. I look up hesitantly, frowning at her question. "What was I supposed to think?" I say quietly. "I'm sorry if I upset you. That wasn't my intention. It-I...I should probably think before opening my mouth." Even though it *had* been funny to see the look on her face ( ... )
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Apparently not because he was apologising, telling me he hadn't meant to hurt me. It was kind of ironic because it was Wesley saying that he should think before he spoke, not me, and that was always something he used to go wacky over.
"Really, Cordelia, can't you think before you speak?"
"Tact, Cordelia, it's a marvellous thing."
"Can we go home?" I ask, tiredly. I've had enough. I want to maybe curl up on a sofa somewhere and just not deal with the world. Ever. God, that sounds nice. I would even say yes to some of the pink stuff Wesley bought last night, I think, glancing upwards as Wesley kisses my temple.
"We'll be fine. We'll get through this.""Will we?" For the first time in my life, I'm not sure. The PTB sent me back here, ordered me to help... And at the first hurdle - okay, the fifth, whatever - I break. Every carefully crafted response I ( ... )
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And as if I didn't know about the changes we'd both gone through? Wes' eyes take on a strange glint. No shrieking like a baby man and running for the next exit here. Not a chance.
"Is there any particular good reason I should stop you?"
"That depends," I whisper, my movements stalling for just a second, "Do you want to stop me?" My voice is low, husky. I'm watching as his tongue creeps out again, wetting his lips, realising we're on dangerous territory here. I probably could have explained it if we'd done the whole talking thing, spanked our inner moppets - had a little comfort roll in the proverbial hay so to speak. But this is different. Our teasing reached new levels and I'm not sure how to get back from that. I'm not sure I want to.
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It's different because we're different and Wesley's telling me that this was my idea, that he doesn't object, and his voice is low, gravelly.
"I think the question should be, oh my fair Cordelia, do you want to stop?"I don't answer him when he asks that. I watch the corners of his mouth curve upwards and I'm torn between wanting to kiss him there, press my lips against his... And keep going with what I started. I look at him from beneath lowered lashes as my fingers keep undoing buttons ( ... )
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