Title: Aftermath
Author: Florrie
Posted: 00-08-2002
Email: florrie59@yahoo.com
Rating: PG13
Category:
Content: C/A
Summary: She reeked of him. In her hair, on her skin, her breath, her clothes and when she walked past me, god, the over-powering Giles of her.
Spoilers: We are still post "Epiphany" and pre "Belonging".
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes: "Aftermath" is a direct follow-on from the events in "Praeludere", the Cordelia/Giles segment of this series. We are now back in the land of C/A! "Aftermath" will be taking on a part-journal, part-talking to yourself and part-dialogue style. It works for me, I hope it works for you!
Feedback:
Thanks/Dedication: Thanks also to the regulars at the fantastic "Stranger Things" for all the fabulous feedback on "Praeludere". You're tremendous!Part 1
I should have showered some more. Or maybe not. I wasn’t thinking about him... much. It wasn’t intentional. No way had I planned on going back to LA and bursting into the Hyperion, megaphone at the ready, with a “you’ll never guess who I just screwed!” And screwed, and screwed and screwed until we both fell asleep half-way up the stairs. Okay, at least that part he couldn’t sniff out of me.
I remembered Angel’s sense of smell in time to have several washes before I left Sunnydale, and then some more after Giles had kindly come in to the shower to ‘give me a hand’. Boy, that man is insatiable, in an mmmm-good way. I think I let loose a slumbering English casanova.
Would I have told Angel about my sex-fest with Giles, even if he hadn’t smelt it out for himself? Probably not. I know I had my ‘well I did stay over with Giles and he did lend me a tee shirt to sleep in’ excuse all ready and I brought it out much too soon. I shouldn’t have needed an excuse. Angel is... special, to me, sure. I think of him as a friend, I love him as a friend so why do I need an excuse?
I didn’t think he would approve, okay? Of me - with Giles. Too old, too close, too Sunnydale, too Angelus, too much history. I don’t know. Just one of those ‘gut feelings’ you get.
Angel used to want to interrogate my dates before the “Darla split” and since he has been back he has been super-hovery. Weird in a nice sense. I can just see Angel if I ever dated Giles; Giles driving up to the Hyperion in that hot sporty car, looking middle-aged drool-worthy in a black tux... “What time will you have Cordelia home?” "Where will you be going?" Oh shit, it should be my father asking Angel those questions... but we all know there’s no chance there! Damn, where did that one come from? I haven’t done unsuitable Angel-type thoughts in ages!
But, anyway, it happened. The nose radar was zooming in as soon as I walked through the Hotel doors.
***
“Hi, you’re back! Good trip?”“Hiya, yeah, not much traffic.”
“Good. And Sunnydale?”
“Still the same.”
“Giles?”
“Fine, healthy, full of energy...”
“Great. You, um...”
"I had a great time, yep."
"And you, you must have um,...
“Giles lent me a tee-shirt to sleep in, wasn’t that nice of him?”
“Right, that er, that doesn’t explain... Cord?”
“Cordelia! Hello, did the newt-eyes travel well?”
“Everything is in a box in the trunk, Wes and those gross eyes are in the cooler. I refused to have them sitting on the back seat glaring at me all the way from Sunnydale.”
“Excellent. Angel? Could you give me a hand?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m right behind you.... Cordy, we need to talk...”
“No, we don’t.”
“Angel? Are you coming?”
***
She reeked of him. In her hair, on her skin, her breath, her clothes and when she walked past me, god, the over-powering Giles of her.In the past I’ve had occasion to want to rip apart men who have hurt Cordelia, but they were nothing to how I felt smelling him... all... fucking... over... her. Stunned. What had he done? Talked her into sleeping at his place? Comforted her after the vision and kept on comforting her? Told her sex would help? Soft-talked her, played on her loneliness, pinned her down and... ugh. She didn’t look hurt. She didn’t sound hurt. How can I protect her if I don't know what I am fighting? Shit, she wouldn’t, couldn’t want to - not with a man that she’d never particularly liked. Did she notice him back in High School? Damn, back then I was too busy with other stuff to freaking pay attention!
Yeah, yeah, I know, none of my business... but, you see, Cordelia is my friend, my... Cordelia - and I want to look after her even more now... after I came so close to destroying them all. Except she doesn’t know that and I don’t see how I can tell her, not anytime soon.
If Cord will only tell me that she was Giles’ willing partner - god, the image is sickening - then I’ll let it rest. I think.
Until then, hot pokers, disemboweling, eye-gouging, a spiked rack... too painless... cut the fucking thing off...slowly.
I somehow forgot to tell Cordy that Giles had called. He wanted her to call him when she got back to L.A. Something about making sure the bat potash arrived safely. He is full of crap.
I didn’t get to talk to her alone for a few hours, not that we were precisely alone at the time...
***
“Angel, I’m busy!”“I understand, I’m getting into a personal area, but...”
“Cordelia, the sealing-powder, now!”
"Powdering, Wes! Angel, move your butt!"
“I’m worried about you and if he did...”
“Angel, pull the crucible more to the left!”
“The left, okay Wes. You see, Cord, if he hurt you and you...”
“More sealing-powder, Cordelia, quickly!”
“Got it Wes! Angel, not now!”
“None of my business, I know, but sometimes it’s good to talk out our pain...”
“Angel are you ready with that battle-axe?”
“Not a problem, Wes... because, you know Cord, if we bottle up pain and despair we do things we regret...” ...swoosh..., “and later on they bubble to the surface... Wes, duck!” ...swish..., “and we get blamed for not sharing with our friends,” ...plerrkkk... , “Got it, Wes... which leads to unpleasantness for everyone...”
“Angel, guilt trip? What have you been doing?”
“What? Me? Nothing... an example.”
“You aren’t going to let it rest are you? Come on, I need to get this Kulgreff, Kilgriff, whatever, gunk off me.”
***
So I decided to give him the whole story. Uncencorsed. Without the actual sex scenes. Yes, censored. He took it really well. A couple of growls, but I am confident if the two of them come face to face in the next few months there won’t be any bloodshed. Geesh, did I just take a little trip to Denial? He despises me, he thinks I’m a whore. A man can go out and have plain ‘sex’ but a woman? No way. If he did it, I’d understand, right? Assuming he was normal and there was no curse and preferably it was nobody I knew or...Lord, he hates me.
And I am so pissed at the guy.
***
“You were lonely, right?”“Not like desperate desperate. No! I was attracted and I was in the mood and well, so was Giles. Everything was... great!”
“Great? And you said you started it? You?”
“Um, yeah. Me. Modern-girl.”
“You did?”
“Geesh, Angel. Giles wasn’t going to get Tango-ey in Paris, he has age issues and responsibility issues and gentleman issues. If I hadn’t let him know I was interested then....”
“Can you explain that again? You were actually interested? In Giles? But... but...”
“Giles is attractive and he’s very well, sensual and gentle and the way he...”
“Don’t... I don’t want details.”
“I’m not going to give you any details! Geesh, you asked why the attraction - I don’t have to tell you anything!”
“No, you don’t. This only happened once, right?”
“Boy! If it helps you deal... once, yeah, that’s right.”
“So, more than once?”
“Stop. Now, get this straight Angel. I spent an evening with Giles and we did some wonderful... wow, great things together and that is it. We had sex, we didn’t make love. It’s over. We agreed. Both of us. No consequences. Are you with me?”
“You don’t love him?”
“No. I like him. I’ll never love him.”
“Do you think it will happen again?”
“I just said...”
“No...um, will it happen like this with other men that you meet and you decide... you decide sex would be ‘wonderful’...”
“Hey, thin ice, buster. I’m no whore. Don’t you dare try to put me down over Giles or any other guy I might hook up with in the future!”
“I didn’t mean... I just want to know...”
“Don’t. No more. Did I tell you I ran into Spike?”
***
I just want to know, so I can prepare myself. So the next time you come in stinking of some guy I don’t have to try and swallow my filthy curiosity. Curiosity? Who you trying to fool? What about possessiveness? ‘Cept you can’t be possessive of someone who isn’t yours. And never will be.She didn’t kick me out. I expected her to and I know I deserved a drubbing. I always do, it goes without saying. Instead she told me all about her meeting with Spike. I had to concentrate but I’m glad I did. I even laughed. God, I love the girl. She can even make me forget how much I despise myself.
But she must hate me.
Part 2
I’m going to write it all down. Everything. Oh, not the little unimportant ‘today I bought a new pair of shoes’ (hell, I wish!) or ‘last night we mangled a Esach demon’, but the stuff I think and feel and why I think and feel and what happens to me. Sounds egotistical, huh. Anyway if someone asks me 'why?' in fifteen or twenty years time, I can tell them. What are the odds it will be me asking myself all the questions? Angel said he would, too but I don’t know if he was just saying ‘yes’ to keep me happy. I don’t want to nag him so I won’t ask again until tomorrow.
A week or so after the ‘you did what with Giles?’ incident we went on that outer-limits trip to Pylea and well, life was crazy for a few days - before, during and after. Like a bad, fuzzy dream. Mostly bad. Groo was - hell, what was I thinking? I kissed him? Forget it, that’s insignificant compared to my life now.
I didn’t realise until well after we got back. There were all the horrendous Buffy issues and settling Fred in and to be honest I simply lost count. I remember being totally relieved that nothing happened when we were in Pylea, ‘cause I just know that the Stayfree franchise doesn’t extend to other dimensions. Yet. I had this god-awful visual of feminine hygiene out there. That phrase ‘wearing the rags’ kind of rang true for Pylean ‘cows’ - ugh!
So take a breath, Cord. You are nattering on again. Breathe and focus. I need the time to think but when I do have time I want to avoid it... not the actual actual reality, but I want to avoid rationalising it all. That is too hard. Wanna talk about decorating the nursery? I’m there. Wanna talk about responsibilities and visions and telling Giles and terminations and weighing my life against our life and I shut down. Or I crawl into bed and have the teeniest cry. Not a real bawling cry. A small weep. Doesn’t count as crying. Not really. ‘Cause Cordelia Chase doesn’t cry!
Yeah, yeah, I told myself this would be honest. So, I cried. No-one saw.
I told Angel. I didn’t even think first, the words just blurted out as soon as I discovered I was pregnant. I freaked, lost it, panicked.
I used one of those home-test kits in the downstairs bathroom at the Hotel. Three of them. In case one was faulty. But they all came up ‘positive’, ‘pregnant’...having a baby. That means there is a living child inside me right now and I still don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I can do. Angel said I can do anything if I really want to. Sweet, supportive, but not true. He think’s I’m tough. He has no clue. I’ve never had a baby before. Geesh, I couldn’t even look after my Goldfish in eighth grade. Gee, eighth grade... no visions, no Angel, no Giles.
I’m rambling. Take another breath. I have to be strong, I have to think clearly, I have to survive.
I started to tell you what Angel said. I’ll try and remember how it went...
***
"Angel, help me!""I'm here, Cordy. Hey, hey, what's wrong?"
“Angel, you have to tell me what to do!”
“About what, Cordelia?”
“I’m dreaming, right? This is a post-portal or post-vision, hallucino-jeanie something, huh?”
“Cordelia, sit down... you’re awake, you haven’t had a vision... have you?”
“Please? Wake me up, now. I’m dreaming, no I’m nightmaring that I’m pregnant. It’s not true.”
“Cord... say that again, slowly.”
“Wake me up? I’m pregnant?”
“Jesus.”
“You have to tell me I’m asleep.”
“Cordelia... you've gotta snap out of this... you are awake and I can’t say it isn’t true, because... I’m sorry, Cordy, I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
“What am I going to do?”
“You... you’ll be fine. You are Cordelia Chase. You can do the toughest stuff... I know you can. You do it every day.”
“Giles said there would be no consequences because you know, I’d been telling him about Wilson and demon-babies and the crap in my life and he said no consequences... we both agreed... no consequences... but being pregnant is a consequence isn’t it Angel so he lied to me didn’t he and I must have lied to him, somewhere because we both said no strings and he said no consequences, no consequences... but that’s all wrong because I have a consequence growing in my tummy... and I don’t know what to do...”
“Shh, shhh, you’ll be fine... we’ll be fine... whatever you want to do Cordelia, I’ll be there for you...”
***
But I lied. I guess it must be a guy thing or a souled-vampire thing because I just wanted her to be okay. So I told her the things I thought she needed to hear. You’ll be fine. I’ll be there for you. Whatever you want to do.What do I know?
I don’t need this. Not now. There’s just too much going wrong and I don’t know what to do. How can I help her when I can’t find my own way? Why couldn’t she tell me in a few months? Shit, Angel, yeah do your usual, run and hide when the crap hits the fan. This one is not going to go away. Not unless Cordelia actually goes through with some of the alternatives she ended up muttering into my shirt. And the problems arising from those decisions will fade away over night? Yeah, right. We’ll be living with the aftermath of her fucking fucking Giles for a long long time, whatever else she does. But I told her I’d be there. How the hell can I promise that? I’m not honest with myself, I’m not honest with Cordelia, I could go off the rails at any minute, decide I can’t go on without another fucking epiphany...
And now she wants me to keep a fucking journal. Can I swear in this fucking thing? Everything is fucked, so why not this? Can I write fuck, fuck, fuck on all the freaking pages, can I fill it with total and utter fucking fuck??????
So this is my journal, Cordelia. My contribution to the life of your unborn, maybe never to be born, child.
Fuck.
I’ll have to tear this page out and start again. Writing obscenities on a clean white sheet of paper felt liberating and powerful, for all of twenty seconds. After twenty seconds I looked at the page and I cried. Crying felt liberating, but not powerful, for almost thirty seconds. Crying hurt. Crying wasn’t going to sort out this mess.
I want to help her. I want to bleed for her. Only, there isn’t too much left of me that isn’t bruised, shattered or broken already, but whatever’s left, yeah, it’ll break and bleed, for her.
***
I’m a selfish bitch.I’ve been told often enough but now I know for sure. Uber-bitch, not of Sunnydale... uber-bitch of L.A.
I had hopes there might be some layers of me that had escaped full on bitch contamination - god. I nearly wrote impregnation. But there's no hope, not now.
Angel came over this evening, late. I was in bed. Me and my teddy bear had been having one of those not-really-crying weeps.
I thought I was a mess. He must have been crying before he got here. His eyes were blood-shot and puffy.
Geesh, I just couldn’t wait to put crap on him, could I? We had all the going-round-the-bend-Darla-crazy and the one man army against Wolfram and Hart and then he came back to us and we were starting to rebuild ourselves and each other and then I slept with Giles and we hadn’t really dealt with those issues before we were dragged into the hell-hole of Pylea and he had all the inner demon stuff and I had my own demons and we came back to find Willow and then he had to deal with all the heart-breaking Buffy stuff and he isn’t over that before I lay my new problems on him. Couldn’t wait, huh?
Bitch.
Angel didn’t tell me he was in an emotional junk-yard, not at first. He thought he could convince me he had knocked on my door at 11.30 to make sure I was okay. I had to bully him to make him sit down and give me the story. He said there was too much going on in his head and he had to get some of it out.
He had to talk. Would I listen?
He began to tell me about her.
About Darla.
Sleeping with Darla.
Part 3
I know I must be losing my whole grip on reality. Somewhere in the portal twisting or the whole Pylea fantasy world a couple of bolts must have slipped.
Or it is because of the baby. I read yesterday that your outlook changes when you give birth to a child. Maybe my outlook is starting to go all bendy now. Or it’s hormonal. The same book said my hormones would go haywire and I would cry easily (well, heck that explains one mystery!) and be happy and sad, angry or placid, all over the place.
When he said “I slept with her, I didn’t care, I had sex with Darla” I knew, deep in a little corner, that that was my cue. Let the ranting and raving and fear and accusations begin.
***
“I slept with her, I didn’t care. I had sex with Darla.”“And then?”
“And nothing. I woke up. I thought some more about what I had been trying to do. I think I went to see Lorne and then I came to find you. You weren’t home. I went to Wes’. You know the rest.
“That’s what you did, but how did you feel? Why?”
“Uh... I couldn’t fix all the evil, so... how did I feel? I guess I was embarrassed - yep, ashamed, relieved, angry, lonely, scared. Guilty, well, yep. I was definitely scared and lonely. I remember worrying that you might not listen, might not want me back...”
“We didn’t, not at first.”
“No, you didn’t. You’re um, angry, right?”
“I’m not sure. I should be wild. A part of me wants to scream and scratch out your eyes because you could have killed us all.”
“Yeah.”
“But you didn’t. You staked her?”
“Well, not exactly... but I told her I would kill her... next time.”
“Geeze, a man and his... nuh, won’t go there.”
“Cordy... you don’t sound pissed. Are you angry?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m angry. In bits. You wanted me to be angry?”
“Yes. I hoped... not angry enough to never talk to me again, but upset. Not that I wanted you to be upset, because of the baby. Shit, I shouldn’t have told you at all - not now. You’ve got enough on your plate. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I never think. I only wanted to make the noises in my head go away. Shit, I’m selfish.
“Selfish? Hey, no! That’s my title and I ain’t sharing! Go find your own crown... Brood-meister or, or guilt-guzzler! That was a joke, Angel. I expect you to smile at my jokes.”
“Sorry.”
“Oh, crap. Come here.”
***
He looked incredibly sad and humbled, like he was wearing his old kicked-puppy face but worse. I couldn’t stand having to see that expression any more. What should I have done?Whatever, I just pulled that lonely face down to my shoulder and said ‘there, there, it’s all right, baby.’ Sheesh, should I put some more frosting on that? Those hormones? Maternal instinct kicking in? Why not? I’m all of seven weeks pregnant. I don’t know. Instead of wailing into him for wanting to lose his soul in Darla and loose Angelus onto us, I sat there, his head cradled against my neck and breast, running my hand along his cheek and forehead. I didn’t think about it first, I just did it and it felt right. He let out this one great hulking, shaking sob and then he didn’t move for half an hour. No crying, nothing. Silence. Maybe he was asleep.
I was grateful when he finally did lift his head, he was getting darn heavy. He seemed okay, better than when he arrived, so I must have done something right. I wish he had let me get this close after Buffy died. For all I know this is still about Buffy, with some festering guilt thrown in.
He looked a bit sheepish afterwards but by the time I made him a coffee and yelled at him for spilling some on the sofa he had a bit of light in his eyes. Yeah, so he didn’t spill the coffee, but I thought a yelling would make him feel comfortable with me again. Hey Angel, is that you reading this twenty years down the road? Just to say, SORRY about the coffee!
That conversation really made me wonder what else is inside his head that he has never talked about. I’m not going to pretend that I am capable of taking on a whole lot more, not tonight, not next week but, one day - if he wants to share.
There has been so much happening the last few weeks, I’ve forgotten what ‘normal’ is like - again. Giles let me be normal. Who am I kidding? Giles made me feel special. Giles. I have to decide, I have to think everything through, but not tonight. I don’t want to make decisions tonight.
Tomorrow has to be brighter, right?
***
“Giles? What are you doing here?”“I know I should have phoned first, but I... can we talk?”
“Um... no, yes, what am I saying? Come out to the courtyard.”
“Thank you.”
“I really, really want to hug you, because of Buffy, you know... but, maybe it’s not a good idea...”
“Cordelia, a hug would be most welcome.”
“Yeah... you look... dreadful.”
“And you're not the vibrant Cordelia I remember. Are you not well?”
“I’m fine. It’s been kind of rough."
“Yes. Er, actually, I came to let you know I’m leaving - America, that is. I’m going back to England.”
“Oh.”
“I can’t stay in Sunnydale, Cordelia. And there’s nothing to um, nothing to keep me in the country.......... Cordelia?”
“I’m sorry. I never thought... It’s unexpected.”
“I was saying... there’s nothing to stay - here - for.”
“No.”
“Then I’d best be on my way.”
“But, wait! When?”
“This afternoon - I have a flight.”
“Then I, er, I hope you have a good flight and the weather is nice when you get back and you have a good life...”
“Cordelia...”
“...and, you know, that it all works out for you, because you deserve that...”
“Cordelia...”
“... but I will miss you and it was kind of nice knowing that you were only two hours away...”
“Cordelia...”
“... and I know we decided ‘no strings’ but it was, well it was comfortable...”
“Bloody hell, Cordelia, let me speak!”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t... if you... Bugger. Cordelia, don’t. I’ll stay, if you ask me. I’ll stay.”
“No. You need to leave, it’s the best for you and I don’t, I don’t want you to stay.”
“I should speak to Angel before I go.”
“Why?”
“I know you’ll think I am old fashioned, maybe I am, but I would like to know you aren’t entirely alone.”
“Oh, I’m not. I’m not alone. Not at all and Angel? Not a good plan. He’s asleep and wake him up mid-afternoon and you have one grumpy vampire. At the moment he doesn’t need a reason to bite - figuratively speaking.”
“Does he know - about us? Did you tell him?”
“Didn’t have to. He has this really accurate nose thing going.”
“Dear lord, I’m sorry... that he found out like..., not that we... I won’t forget our weekend. I haven’t been able to look at Spike without a strong desire to serenade him with Ave Maria. Has it... has it caused problems?”
“A tiny ripple. Hardly noticeable considering recent.... stuff.”
“Keep in touch? Please?”
***
Cordelia came up to my room sometime during the afternoon. She woke me up and said she needed a cuddle. She said it would be best if she could sit on the bed next to me and she’d lean on my chest and if I liked I could put an arm around her. Then she told me hair stroking could be very soothing. Once she had me organised and buried her head under my arm she started to cry, because, she said, of the hormones.I stroked her hair like she wanted. I would have done it anyway.
Shit, sometimes I think I can still smell Giles on her.
She fell asleep and I fell asleep and when I woke again, she was gone.
I don’t know what it was all about. God, I just want to get us both, all, through this in one piece.
Hopefully, tomorrow might not be as bad.
Part 4
“Giles was here? In the Hotel?”
“Yes, this afternoon. I thought Cordelia went up to tell you...”
“Where is she, Wes?”
“She wasn’t feeling the best and I must say, she has been looking peaky for quite a few...”
“Wes! Did she go home?”
“Yes, but you should let her rest.... Angel!”
***
I was concerned, okay? I didn’t like the idea of Giles being here and upsetting her - not now, not anytime. What had he said to make her bawl herself to sleep in my arms? Christ, and I thought I was imagining his stench in her hair. Fine, so I shouldn’t have gone off to her place without calming down, I’ll admit that, but she should have told me the sorry shrivelled scrotum was here. That’s all, just told me. She had the opportunity when she came up to my room. No, not Cordelia. There’s so much going on in that head and I don’t know the half of it. Am I so hard to talk to? Am I judgemental? Am I quick-tempered? Am I unsympathetic? Am I intimidating or over-bearing?I’m not, am I? But if that’s what it takes! Tell the bastard he’s going to be a father! He was here - she didn’t say she was pregnant! Some rubbish about not wanting to hold the bucket of vomit back, letting him go off to England and clean slates. I don’t know. I was so mad I wasn’t listening properly. I told her, as much as the prick might not be my favourite person (I was holding back here), he should know about the baby. That was that, no arguments, tell the freaking toad shit. If it was mine I’d... not mine. Think straight.
A few days ago she was thinking about terminating the pregnancy. So far it is talk. I get the idea that she is trying to prove to herself that she is capable or mature enough to examine all the possibilities. Why can’t she accept the baby as a fact? No going back. God, if it was my baby and she threw it away without discussing it with me, I’d... I don’t know. I think I’d hate her.
I tried to bring it up again tonight. She said something about going to a family clinic to get ‘information’. Information on what? I asked but she said she didn’t want to go into it right now. She doesn’t want to talk about Giles, the baby, Giles and the baby, the visions, the baby and the visions... nothing.
I probably shouldn’t have asked her if she and the cankerous dick had fucked in the Hotel before he left. I think she said I was immature, but I was concerned, right?
She told me I should go and cool my head. Told me it was none of my business. Told me to get out.
My rational reply was to slam my way out and leave her there, alone.
Not my business. No? Then why the fuck does it hurt so much?
Was she, is she in love with the fuck-wit? Falling in love with him? Is that why she was so upset at his leaving? She could have stopped him so easily. “Hey ass-hole, remember those consequences we said we weren’t going to have?” She let him go.
I’m trying to do as she said and cool off, but as soon as I leave one messed up section of my brain, I simply move into another corner of fucked up brain mash.
I wish I could water ski.
I need to get a whole new journal. There’s something badly wrong with this one. Nothing happens the way I want it to in here.
***
I haven’t written in here for a few days. I was furious with Angel. Ice cold furious! I didn’t want to put those words on paper. I needed to find some quiet. Work was out of the question - I called Wes and told him I wasn’t well. I think he is worried about me and I know I owe it to him to let him know about the baby but I can’t, not yet. Another person asking me “what are you going to do?” will drive me crazy.Angel has this fixation about Giles - that he and I had sex, again - and so what if we did? But we didn’t and Angel’s just.... arrgh! Enough Angel. I wish I hadn’t told him I was pregnant.
I’ve spent the last two days here at home going over and around my pregnancy. It might be easier to keep it all in my head if I actually felt pregnant but there are no signs at all. No bulge, no sickness, no tenderness, I’m not sleepy, no cravings (ice-cream doesn't count, does it?) - everything is normal - except I am pregnant and that is not normal. Not for Cordelia Chase, budding actor on the verge of super-stardom (I wish) and pain-pounding vision getter to he who seeks redemption.
Three pieces of plastic with little lines on them. That is my pregnancy.
Okay, Cordy, let’s do this. What are your options? Write them down, Cordy, and stare at them until you can see some chink of light.
1. Have the baby as a single mother.
2. Let the father know and still raise the baby alone.
3. Let the father know and he comes running back to help me raise the child but we aren’t a couple.
4. Let the father know and he comes running back to help raise the child and we get closer and end up as a couple.
5. Tell the father and he runs for the hills.
6. Have the baby and let someone adopt it.
7. Have the baby and let the father have it.
8. An abortion.I haven’t actually written that last alternative down on paper before. God, it’s so... stark. If Giles found out I guess he’d never speak to me again. I know Angel wouldn’t. He doesn’t matter, I have to do what’s best, don’t I? For me? If the Powers had any compassion the visions would stop, now. They don’t understand that word and what was the other one, I told Giles... fair, that’s it. Compassion and fair. The PTB have no clue. How can I tell what the visions will do to the baby? Did they think about that when they let Doyle give them to me? Nah, never mind a life for Cordelia, she doesn’t deserve a good life and if she ever gets lucky enough to find a decent man and have a family, so what? They’ll all have to live with the consequences. Consequences, shit I hate that word!
I’m scared. I’ve been putting off seeing a doctor because, like I said, I’m scared, I'm terrified of what they might say. “I’m sorry Ms Chase, your baby has seven heads. You must have been a very bad person. Did you consider the consequences?”
I should have com-shucked Groo after all, the visions would be gone. Hell, Pylea and that portal - twice! All my cells mixing up and the baby...no, don’t, don’t go there.
I lie in bed at night and dream of alternative number four. The dream doesn’t last long before Giles decides I trapped him into marriage and he demands a divorce or the baby doesn’t look like him and he demands a DNA test or I’m a terrible mother and he demands that the baby be raised back in England by he and his bimbo librarian girlfriend. The start of the dream is great, there’s always fantastic sex when Giles first comes back. God, I’m a dream-slut-whore.
See? I talk myself out of real hard thinking every time. The real stuff is terrifying.
I’m going to the clinic tomorrow. I have to know. I have to decide.
***
I’ve come back to this entry. I wish she would just talk to me, that’s all. Cordelia should keep the baby, tell Giles and try to get rid of the visions. Simple. I can’t change her mind on the first two so I’m going to find out more about the visions, see if there is any way we can get rid of them, if the Powers That Be will take them back. If they knew that she was having a baby, surely...That’s all I can do. No, I forgot - I can hug her and hold her, seems I’m passable at that but at the moment she’d probably slap me out of the way as if I was some irritating insect.
Wes is getting suspicious and worried. He said he dropped by Cordelia’s on his way home last night but she wouldn’t let him in, said she had a virus and he might catch it. He harped on at me, why hadn’t I called her, why didn’t I go and see her?
It’s three days now since I saw her and we argued. I’ll go see her tonight.
Journal writing tip number one. Don’t vent your anger in your journal because when you calm down you tear out the page and after three weeks of writing all you have to show is one page, lots of torn scraps and millions of doodles. The baby will learn a heck of a lot about me from this debacle.
You see, I can be positive. There will be a baby.
***
I didn’t tell Angel I had the appointment today. I can imagine the hullaballoo it would have caused if I said he couldn’t come along. I wanted to go by myself. Everything was okay until... shit, I’m not going to make it here, the tears have started again.Angel was here a few hours after I got back from the clinic. I forgot how pissed I was with him, I just wanted to let it all out...
***
“You want me to come in?”“Yes, get your butt in here... I’ve decided - so much!”
“Giles... you’ll...”
“No, not Giles, the baby... sit down, I want you to look at this...”
“We’re watching a movie? Cordy, shouldn’t we talk... I want to apologise...”
“Watch the screen.”
“Grey spots? Cordy I don’t understand... hey, is that...?”
“Uh-huh, and that little group of spots that looks like a tiny pulsing heart? It’s a tiny pulsing heart!”
“That... the baby’s heart-beat?”
“Mmmm.”
“Heart. We’re having the baby, aren’t we, Cordelia?”
“It’s my baby, Angel.”
“I know, none of my business, ... but...”
“Dumbass! I meant it’s real! There is a living baby in here... before, it wasn’t real, kinda just lots of tears and fear and worry.”
“That’s great - it’s great!”
“I’m sorry I’ve been difficult, blame the hormones. I do. See, more tears!”
“You’ll still be using that excuse when the baby is eighteen, won’t you?”
“Uh-huh, not letting that one go! Can I have that arm if you aren’t doing anything with it? Just around here would be... yep, tighter? Thanks.”
“Comfy?”
“Yep.”
“Can we have another look at the film-star? Ah, damn... Cordy, have you got some paper? I didn’t bring my journal. ”
Continue on...