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 5
I once rode the Cyclone at Coney Island, a long time ago. I think it was 1928. One minute you are squirming at the pleasant tickly sensations and the next your whole insides are sucked out through your ears. I’m back on the roller coaster again, the Cordelia Chase ride of a lifetime! Here I am, back at the hurtling, gut-sucking drop.
We did have a comfortable half hour while we sat goggling at the fuzzy pictures of the baby. I am good at the cuddles. I should stick to the cuddles and keep my mouth shut. I’ll have to make a note to sew my lips together with fresh cat gut.
All I said was “so you’ll telephone Giles?” I barely got the words out before she was flexing her claws in my general direction. You would think she hated the sound of his name.
She can be so soft and well, soft but the next minute she’s a raging vixen with shimmering claws. I mentioned the claws already. I’m glad I stood up and moved away. She actually hissed.
What do I do? Walk away from her every time she gets into one of these irrational moods? If I left I might not as well come back because her emotions are all over the place. When she’s happy it’s wonderful and I can’t get enough. I want to run my finger through the sweet air around her and taste her joy. I want another ride, can I go around again?
Anyway, tonight I tried the ‘stand firm’ approach, after I’d backed off. I asked her what was up with the attitude and she burst into tears. Tears I can handle. I don’t like them but some basic hugging and soothing, I can deal. Ten minutes later and a promise never to mention Giles in the same sentence as “when are you going to tell” and she was all sparkling new again.
A firm tone, wait till she cries and then, cuddles. That worked. Except for the part where she still refuses to tell Giles - she has her heels dug in on that issue. I can’t interfere. Actually I could - put in a call to Giles and say ‘by the way, Cordelia is pregnant’ as an off the cuff remark. No, I’d be growling and vamping down the telephone line as soon as he picked up at the other end and Cordy would never talk to me again. There’s a lot of that going around.
Finally she has agreed to at least let Wesley in on the news. Hopefully he can help, vision wise. Cordelia still refuses to ask Lorne for any advice. Says it would be as bad as a visit to her gynaecologist. I don’t get the similarity. I know we will have to go that route eventually - Lorne, not the gynaecologist - but I won’t push her any more today.
Note: (1) Buy or borrow some sort of pregnancy guide for novices. I need to know the right answers, the right questions, stuff to avoid, when to fuss, when to back away (this one is becoming crucial.)
(2) Find a cat with some fresh gut.
***
I had another vision tonight, here at home. No-one except Dennis was around. I’d scared Angel off earlier so I had to call him with the details. Shit, I could almost hear him bite into his tongue to keep from asking any ‘fussy’ questions like “are you okay?” I told him I was fine - didn’t want him worrying - and I asked him to give me a call back when they’d dealt with whatever it was in my gore-a-rama. Do I think he will? One day, if this yell, scream, cry crap goes on for much longer he won’t be back. I feel so out of control of my life. He’s my best friend, I don’t want to lose him but I’m not going to give in to him either. He has this real Giles hate so wouldn’t you think he’d be fine with keeping Giles out of my baby’s life? Then he carries on because Giles is the daddy, he has a right to know. I can’t win. I’m selfish if I don’t tell (according to Angel) and I’m selfish if I do tell (according to me).What would Giles do? Come back here and, what? Be another flustered male for me to vent on? Yeah, I can see that working well. Hey, he can room with Angel!
Would I be such a bitch if Giles were here? I don’t know, I don’t know, shit, I don’t know. He isn’t here and he won’t be here any time soon.
I need for someone to say “It’s all okay, everything will be fine, don’t stress.” Do you think Lorne would tell me that? What would I do if he didn’t, if he told me there were going to be...problems? What else will he see? What will he see and not tell me?
Ugh, I just want to be normal. I want my baby to be normal.
***
“Wesley? Angel? What are you talking about?”“Cordelia! Angel was just saying! Congratulations!”
“Angel? You don’t think it might have been nice to let me tell Wes?”
“Oh, I er, you see we were discussing visions - in general - and then I must have said something 'cause Wes asked me and well, it all came out.... Sorry.”
“You said ‘Good morning, Wesley, guess what? Cordy’s having a baby! Isn’t it great?’”
“Are you sure I said all that?”
“Cordelia, it would have been lovely to hear the news from you. You are well? And the baby?”
“Fine, thank you, as far as we can tell.”
“Cordelia, Wes says that Fred has some interesting information about the visions. Some prophecy stuff we might be able to find in the books we brought back from Pylea.”
“Look, I don’t really...”
“Yes, Cordelia, and even better, we could probably bring the Groosalug here for the com-shuk.”
“Groo?... Wesley, I don’t want to talk about this...”
“Why do we need the Groosalug here, Wes? He wasn’t very friendly and well, I didn’t like him, much.”
“Cordelia mates with the Groosalug and the visions are absorbed by his demon blood! Simple!”
“Mates? Like, has sex? But we rescued her from that in Pylea! Now you’re suggesting we bring the brainless musclebound cretin here to have his way with Cordy? She’s pregnant! We don’t know what effect the guy will have!”
“Quite pleasant ones I should imagine.”
“With a toothy grin on legs? Cordelia’s human, he wouldn’t know how to... anyway, there’s no way I’m letting this...”
“Guys! Hey, I’m right here, remember me?”
“Sorry.”
“Yes, pardon me, Cordelia. I suppose Angel does have a point, the unknown would...”
“I don’t care what pointy things you have, it’s my decision and I say no to Groo, end of discussion.”
“Right. I mean you wouldn’t have wanted to ... to mate, with him anyway, would you Cordy?”
“I’m going to go over there, sit down, put my feet up and read a magazine. I’m going to ignore personal questions and if you both know what’s good for you, you won’t discuss my sexual preferences any further. Understood? Oh, and Wesley, if you are talking to anyone from Sunnydale - don’t mention the baby.”
“Sunnydale? Of course. Oh, I almost forgot. Mr Giles phoned earlier to speak with you. He said he would try again later. We had quite a pleasant chat actually.”
“Oh. Sure. Wesley? I don’t want... I definitely don’t want Giles to know I am pregnant. Got that?”
“If you say so, but why are you so.... Giles? Mister Giles is...? Oh, dearie me.”
***
I’ve been looking at pictures of you in a book I found. Not actually you, but diagrams and photos of how you would look. Nearly twelve weeks now and you will be about three inches long. It says here you should be getting finger nails and you can swallow! You actually swallow the fluid stuff you float around in? But you piss in it! Sounds revolting but I guess it must be okay. Considering my diet, who am I to judge?The book says ‘the mother can now feel her growing uterus if she palpates her lower abdomen.’ What do you think? Should I ask? If she’s in a good mood tomorrow she might let me.
Good moods are few and far between. She’s had three visions in the last four days. I don’t want you to think your mother is always grumpy but she’s really concerned about you and I know she spends most of her time worrying. Wes and I have been trying to get her to stay home and rest but she insists on coming in to the Hotel. I don’t want her there, but I do. It’s difficult. You see, I want to know she is okay so it’s good that she is nearby but I don’t want her to get involved in anything potentially risky or dangerous and for that not to happen she is better off at home.
Back again, that was your mother on the phone. She wants me to take her to visit a friend of ours, Lorne.
***
“Angelcakes! Sweetpea! It’s been years! Pedro, the usual over here...”“Um, no, Lorne, we aren’t drinking. Thanks anyway.”
“On the wagon, but... you too, brown eyes?”
“Yes, I’m going for the tee-total look this summer.”
“Both so glum? What is..... oh, Mama Mia! Who do I congratulate, little mother? Obviously tall, dark and infertile here isn’t the one, much as he would...”
“Lorne! Can you help Cordelia? Information, anything.”
“Information? A little late for family planning, aren’t we?”
“The visions keep coming and we, Cordy needs reassurance the baby is healthy.”
“Which one?”
“The baby. We think, we know Cordelia is okay, but...”
“I’m not deaf, which baby?”
“What? But.... there’s more than one? He’s kidding isn’t he Angel? Lorne? There was only one baby in the the pictures. Angel, make him be serious.”
“But I am serious my little super-mom. You know, kiddies today, he was probably shy of the camera or trying to hide from mommy... Angel, lambchops, growling does not become you...okay, I was joking, trying to lighten the heavy mood you two are in. I don’t know why I try.”
“For the record, Lorne, straight up... one baby, and it’s okay right? Tell Cordelia the positive truth.”
“Yes, the perfect all-American, oops wait a minute, half-all-American child.”
“Healthy and not...not demonic in any way or unusual?”
“Except for the mad dogs and Englishmen input, you have your own little slice of normality, my pet.”
“Oh... no, Cordy, don’t cry. It’s a relieved cry, right? Here, have some water. Lorne, come here.... look, can you give me some tips? These moods, what am in for? The whole nine months or can I hope...”
“I’ve already saved you an obstetrician’s bill, now you want therapy?”
“Come on, you can see inside her... the crying, yelling and...”
“Big goof. Just hug her.”
“I do that, but when she yells...”
“Hug her.”
“When she’s yelling?”
“Why not? You really need to learn to seize the opportunity when you can, my broody boy. If she’s happy, give her a hug, if she’s down, give her a hug.”
“And incredibly angry?”
“Uh-huh. Who knows what might come out of that particular passion!”
“What are you getting at?
“Try it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
“Hey, there’s no way I’d...”
“Angel?”
“Cordy, yeah, can I just have a minute with Lorne?”
“No! No more secret boy’s club. I need to know about the visions.”
“They are yours for keeps, mommy dear.”
“No, there must be a way....”
“Well, you did have the opportunity in Pylea. Maybe you should have followed your loins and made love to Mister Testosterone.”
“Cordelia? You wanted to do it with that Groosalug?”
“Golly gee, thanks, Lorne.”
“So, that solution is gone, but you could try a similar formula, right? Jump a part-demon’s bone and voila! Visions absorbed. What can it hurt? I’d offer myself, noble of me I realise, but I don’t think a particular hulking hero would... okay, okay, put the ferocious-face away.”
***
He ranted all the way home. Groo, the evils of casual sex, benefits of celibacy, modern attitudes, inept Hosts and on and on. I sat and listened. As for the visions, he seems to think we can solve everything if he and I have sex. Wow, great.I am tired of it all. I want to be accepted as a person, not as some vessel that needs to be impregnated (not you, sweetie, some demons I’ll tell you about later) or slept with or absorbed because of a prophecy or random act of twisted bitterness by the freaking PTB. I hate them.
Every vision now is a terror. I don’t mean the usual pain or gruesome images but I panic because of you. Everything is about you. After a vision I’ll sit and cover where you are in my tummy with my hands and talk to you. I don’t sing, I promise I won’t sing, but I hum or put on some nice music and tell you it will all be okay and oh, god, I can’t cope thinking you might be hurting every time or that there might be those same evil pictures bursting through your tiny head and I might be getting used to the pain but if you feel it too and you won’t know what is happening and I can’t make you feel better or hold you close, you must think I am a monster and will you ever forgive me and I’m so sorry, so sorry, so sorry, so....
***
“Lorne has been wrong before, hasn’t he, Angel?”“Well, a couple of times, maybe misleading, but as far as this goes...”
“Then how do we know he’s right now? There’s Angelus and... why push me to go there? You agree with Lorne if it’s what you want, but if not it’s ‘he could be wrong’?”
“I’m set in my ideas.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“I am not stubborn - if we want to talk stubborn I don’t have to look far...”
“Hey, I’m stubborn but you have fixed ideas? You’ve gotta get out of the nineteen-fifties, Angel.”
“The fifties were good, stable times, you just had to watch Donna Reed to understand. I do try to move on but it takes me a few years to catch up and assimilate the cultural changes, so sometimes I don’t bother and... hey, we’re off the subject here...”
“The subject is closed. No more discussion, I won’t sleep with you, it’s too risky.”
“Risky for who? What about the risk to the baby every time you get sent a message, huh? And who are the damn messages for? Me. So let me have them, please. I’ve got perfectly good demon blood in me and it’s not like we have to worry about ultimate happiness...”
“I hate you Angel.”
“See? Now you hate me. Where’s the danger of a big happy? Come on, we could do it now and oh, sorry, do I have to wait my turn?....... shit, I didn’t say that, I so didn’t say that. Please, Cordy...”
***
He thinks I get irritable but he has these flashes of anger out of nothing. He was going to try and apologise his way out of his tantrum. I didn’t hear him. The awful flashing lights and horrors of another vision crashed down. Angel caught me in his arms and began to soothe me. A minute ago he was working himself into a rage and suddenly he is shaking and shushing and whispering into my neck. I want to do that for you, hold you, whisper into your hair, when the pain comes, but I can’t. I’m getting desperate.Please, just once, will whoever it is up there be good to me? Look after me and my baby. Don’t let anything bad happen, please?
I don’t know any other way to try and protect you, sweetheart. I’ll have to do it.
So, when the vision was over I told him to come back later on and we would have sex.
***
The only stipulation she made was that I get it over with quickly.
Part 6
It couldn’t be that she doesn’t like sex, I mean when she and your father got together, well she was enthusiastic enough then.
I guess you don’t want to be reading about your mother’s sex life. This will probably be another of those pages that I start in one journal, ends up being innappropriate and I have to cross it out and start again in one of the other journals - like now.
It was the idea of being physical with me that was the problem. You could hardly expect a warm welcoming embrace after the way I had insulted her, or at any other time. The whole focus has to be to rid Cordelia, and the you, of the visions. Nothing else matters. Cordelia was prepared, or desperate enough, to finally take that step with me. Absorption of the visions by the demon blood in my veins during intercourse. Nothing else. There was no reason to expect loving kisses or tender glances or erotic small-talk. I could only try to make it as easy and as distasteful as possible for her.
Reaching out in the night to touch her warm flesh, knowing you’ll wake up with her moist early-morning breath on your shoulder. A dream that is only a dream.
I build these walls. Big great raw stone walls. They are to keep some stuff in and some stuff out. Every now and then there is an apocalyptic event that rends the stone with huge cracks and it all crashes down on me. I re-build again and again and again. You’d think over time the walls would get stronger with all the experience I had putting them back up, but they don’t. The fabric of the stone erodes and crumbles away. I still use the same rocky material and this time, after I had finished with Cordelia, all I could see was a heap of flaky rubble and sand. I don’t have a lot left to hide behind.
I’m avoiding. Okay. When I finally returned to her place I was sweating cold rivers of water down the back of my neck. I didn’t know I could sweat so much. She was there, wrapped in a bulky bathrobe. She told me it would be best if we didn’t talk. I tried to tell her it would be okay, I’d take care of everything, but I don’t think she was listening. She just kept her eyes on the floor and led the way into the bedroom.
She kept the robe on and covered me and her legs up with the sheets. God, she was in no way ready. She kept saying ‘do it, do it’ but she was as tense and as dry as a board. I would have hurt her. She told me I couldn’t back down, we’d come this far. There was this tube of oily mess she handed to me and told me to rub on to myself. Christ. She said she wouldn’t have the courage to try again.
Sometimes you feel as though you are dying inside because the person that you are with looks as though they are dying inside. To see her lying there with her strained brown eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, willing the ceiling to get it over with, for fuck’s sake.
So I did. God knows how I managed an erection, it certainly wouldn’t have impressed anyone, it was on the soft side. Neither of us came. There was no way in the world I expected Cordelia to climax and I suppose it was highly unlikely that I would, when you look back on it. I don’t know if there needed to be any natural fluids to make the absorption of her visions work. The only lubrication between us was artificial.
I faked it. I told her I’d finished. I used so much of that oily cream I doubt she’d know the difference. Had she ever had sex without protection? Well I guess she must have, she is pregnant. Anyway, I lied and left her to go clean up. When I came back into the room she was curled up on her side with her eyes tight shut. She couldn’t have been asleep. I told myself she was and that I shouldn’t disturb her and I came back here to the Hotel - to hide - while I tried to see what I could do about re-erecting the damn walls from a pile of dust.
First thing this morning, I had a vision. I called Wesley and told him I couldn’t reach Angel. Brave Cordelia Chase.We did all that for nothing. I humiliated myself, exposed myself for nothing. He, what did he feel? It couldn’t have been good. But he kept pushing in and out until he rolled off me and said it was done. What is it with men? They can perform without the least encouragement? How does that work? I want to despise him, but I can’t. It isn’t his fault. Maybe I should have been more, I don’t know, receptive? I was terrified - of what might happen, of what it was doing to us, that it might not work - everything was terrifying. I tried to tune out by staring at the ceiling, hoping he wouldn’t take too long.
It hurt and it was awful and it didn’t work and I don’t know what I am going to say to him.
***
Dear Diary. I’ve always wanted to write that. Do those two words alone sound more cheerful than the last week’s worth of wallowing despair? Yeah, Cordelia spoke to me today. Not a lot, I know and it isn’t that she hasn’t spoken to me since well, for a week, but that she almost sounded normal.Can I breathe now? Just for the heck of it, you know.
We haven’t had a real conversation since that night. She came in to work the next day and hid herself in a corner with the iMac. Wesley assumed she had morning sickness. I went with that excuse and confirmed his assumption. Sounded good to me. What else was I going to tell him? “Oh, Cord is fine. We had the horror fuck of the century last night. She’ll be okay after her cup of java.”
***
I know I can’t blame him and I don’t mean to take it out on him. Am I? Do I? It’s been easier not to have to speak or look at him so I avoid him. Not his fault, but hell, we’ve had son-of-kicked-puppy-face all week and there is only so much I can take. I can’t have looked much better, lots of mental hand wringing, like the queen in that Shakespeare play I auditioned for last year.I don’t hate him, I don’t despise him and I don’t blame him. He did what we thought was best. Maybe not best but the only option. I agreed. End of story. So what is wrong with me? More hormones? For the last day I’ve been wondering if we should try again, with a little more input from me. Maybe this absorbtion thingy won’t work unless it is a two way experience? It isn’t as though I don’t think he is attractive - heck, remember ‘hello, salty goodness’? And even more recently - I have to remind myself who he is. I can get around the fear - nothing happened, right? Not with me and not with Darla, so soul-wise we are safe. I keep telling myself it is safe. He doesn't love me.
I can still smell him. When he was on me the other night I kept my eyes on the ceiling but I could smell him, all salty and tangy and somehow, when I think back, I remember the smell and, god this sounds sick, but I like it. Not then, but now. When he walked past me today in the office I had to stop myself from sucking in a huge sniff of air to see if he had the same scent. I’m sick, sick, sick!
This has nothing to do with nasal stimulation. We have to work on the visions. I haven’t had a vision for four days - and you know that I’ll be getting one anytime soon because I have to pay for writing ‘I haven’t had a vision’ - but getting rid of the bastards is still my number one priority.
***
I went down to the Post Office today. Down, as in under, the Post Office building, where the oracles used to hang out before Vocah got to them. I wondered if they had been replaced. There was nothing. The inscription and marble doorway were gone, replaced by basic smelly sewer, circa 1931.What do I do now? When I am on a project, I need to see it through. Like my ‘fixed ideas’, I don’t want to give up. I can’t think of anything other than telling Cordelia the truth and suggesting we try having sex again. I’m going to lose her over this, I can tell. But if it works, and I end up with the visions, it will - well, it won’t be worth it but it will be better for Cordelia and the baby.
Of course, it means I’ll have to actually perform this time, so I’ve been practicing. Not that I’ve... visualising is probably a better word.
***
I’m going to do it. I’m going to seduce a vampire. Shit, now I am terrified again.
***
I was leaning over her with my hand on her belly. She said the baby had started to move and she took my hand and pressed it palm down on her belly...but I doubt it. The book says eighteen to twenty weeks and we are only coming up to fourteen. I could feel the gurgles of her alfalfa and lettuce sandwich lunch and this tiny bump of baby, right down low near that bone. It sort of made me let out a silly giggle. I don’t know, it was the first time I had felt the baby. It was good.She looked up at me, with a real smile, and asked me to kiss her.
I was waiting for the sting, but she kept smiling although the smile did end up on the shaky, nervous side. Probably because I was standing there for so long, looking like a stunned fish.
***
“Cordy, you want me to? To kiss you?”“Um yes, but not if you feel uncomfortable with...”
“No, look it’s er, fine with me, I... um, I was surprised.”
“Kiss me.”
“I can kiss you, but I need to know - are we, are we going anywhere with this? I don’t want to get it wrong...”
“Going? How does your bedroom sound? Kiss me.”
Part 7
He kissed me. One of those closed mouth, dry lips efforts. He was nervous. I stuck my tongue out and licked his lips before he could move them from my mouth. That helped. He came back for a bit more, almost as though he were enjoying it.
I hadn’t planned on a kiss to get the seduction going, but the opportunity was there. You know, to me, kissing is one of those intimate contacts that need some solid emotion to make them right. He was smiling and he looked happy and he was close and I could smell him and I wanted him to kiss me. Honestly, it felt kind of good but strange too, because, hell, this was Angel I was kissing and there are teeth issues, but surprisingly it was... nice.
***
I kissed her. She kissed me back and she seemed to get more enthusiastic so I responded some more. The kiss took us upstairs to my room and we had sex and I woke up an hour later with her cuddled into my side. We had sex. Together. This time she let me do - things, not much but I could touch her and well, I didn’t have any trouble getting a firm erection. Or coming. I had no problems coming. It was more of a problem not coming. I don’t think I took very long.Cordelia didn’t. She said it wasn’t my fault, she wasn’t entirely relaxed and maybe next-time.
Next-time?
There’s going to be a next-time?
***
This effort was so much, much better than the first! I didn’t orgasm. Will it matter? I mean the whole idea was that I try and make myself more involved, but I still didn’t come. Angel only took a few minutes and he felt firmer, inside me, than last time but it sure as hell didn’t hurt, so I must have been kind of relaxed? I was almost excited - when he pushed my legs apart and seeing him slide into me - I made sure I looked this time.Crap, I’ll have to find another note-book to write my ‘not for baby’s eyes’ journal entries. I think I would be sick if my mother gave me her diary to read and it was full of her and daddy’s sexual activities. Eww.
I’m feeling better now. Much better than I’ve felt for most of the pregnancy. More positive. I’m going to see baby soon during my check up. I can’t wait. I wonder if I should ask Angel to come along?
***
I’m confused. Nothing new, I realise. The other night, with Cordelia? It wasn’t earth shattering and it was over far too soon and she didn’t come but there haven’t been any more visions. Which is great, right? That was the whole object. I haven’t had a vision either so maybe the Powers are just giving her a break. It’s hard to tell - some weeks she’ll have four or five and then we’ll have a rest for two weeks.Why I’m confused? I want to sleep with her again, just in case. I tell myself ‘just in case’ but I want to sleep with her again - regardless. No selfless act here, I want to make her come, I want to see her face and feel her ripple over me. It isn’t fair that I got to finish and she didn’t, is it? It’s only fair she is satisfied.
I’m not supposed to be enjoying this, but I did and I want to be with her again. I woke up from my sleep yesterday and reached out to touch her. Of course she wasn’t there. The joy of reaching out and touching warm flesh. I want it.
This isn’t supposed to happen.
Cordelia called a minute ago. She had another message for me. I should be annoyed because clearly this whole demon blood sex absorption idea isn’t working. I’m not annoyed. I just want to try again.
***
Everything is normal. He doesn’t touch me any more than usual and he hasn’t tried to - I don’t know - get closer or kiss me. There’s no reason he should, is there? The sex might have been better but it was still almost clinical sex. So why do I want him to touch me as he walks past? I want him to stop and smile. It’s stupid. Can I blame this on my hormones? Why not? I’m being needy and my hormones are going shit crazy again.I can cope with that. I know, I’ll get another piece of paper and write lines. “Angel is a vampire with a deadly demon inside.” What do you think? A hundred times?
***
Hey, baby. I was wondering. You can’t see anything while you are inside your mother, can you. I read that babies can be receptive to music and light and sounds and well, is there anything else? I mean if your mother was doing something particular or another person was doing something particular to her, can you tell? Do you know? I’m having some scary visuals here. I need to find a more detailed baby book. I suppose I should have asked that doctor we saw, but I was too speechless, glued to the screen watching you wriggle around.I should be sleeping but I want to watch Cordelia. She’s sitting over there at the desk with a bundle of parenting magazines. She’s got this summery top on that drops low at the back. Cordy has a nice spine. The knobbly bits are there under her skin but they don’t jut out like big ridges. These are rounded, mellow curves. I want to touch them, run my fingers along them until I find the soft flesh under her hairline and the...
***
“Angel?”“Huh?”
“You busy?”
“Um... no.”
“What are you ...? Is that your journal? Can I see?”
“No. We agreed. No... reading... journals. I’m just catching up in this one.”
“This one? There’s more than one? I have two! How many do you have?”
“I started with one and well, if you count them all there’s um, four.”
“Wow, I thought two was confusing enough. One’s for baby, right?”
“Yeah. I write everything in this one notebook and then I transfer it afterwards to whatever the right journal might be.”
“You’re organised. I have my Baby journal and the second is my don’t-let’s-scare-Baby stuff.”
“Huh, I’ve kind of got one of those too. I don’t write so often in the third one, not as often as baby’s - I mean I write and sketch in that one every day but...”
“Sketches?”
“Yeah... just stuff that happens, people, you... and well, the Buffy diary isn’t so often... when I... you know, have a bad Buffy day.”
“Oh. Like Wednesday....? Thought so... A diary sounds a good idea, anything that helps but... you can talk to me you know, if you want.”
“No, I’m fine. Honest. It’s easier for me to keep everything separate. I can deal better. I have these walls.... I build and... and it’s easier this way.”
“I was going to ask you if... but I think I’ve probably ruined the moment... doesn’t matter.”
“If it’s what I was hoping... ask me, Cord.”
“I thought I might go upstairs to your bedroom, we might and ...”
“You aren’t feeling well, Cordelia?”
“Wes! Wesley! My aren’t you getting stealthy! Didn’t your mother tell you to never sneak up on a pregnant woman?”
“I’m sorry, I thought I was walking normally, but... you aren’t well?”
“Cordy... well, she’s getting to the stage where she needs afternoon naps, Wes and I told her she could use my room... anytime at all. So, um, I’ll take her up now and get her settled.”
“Wouldn’t she be better alone?”
“No, you see when she needs a nap she doesn’t necessarily sleep - just lies there... with her eyes closed and I keep her amused... right, Cord? Today, well, I’m going to read - out loud - until she falls asleep.”
“That does sound relaxing. Maybe we should implement group staff relaxation sessions, I hear they increase productivity and pride... we could take it in turns reading!”
“Great idea, Wes. Maybe you should look into it some more, but right now, well Cordy really needs to get on her back... I mean off her feet. If not, wow, swollen ankles... this big!”
“Hey, I could never have ankles...”
“Come on Cordelia, beddie-byes.”
***
God, this is getting dangerous. She was pulling at my clothes as soon as I locked the door and it was... well, it was great. I came, she came, we came and we kissed before, during and after, hell... this is dangerous.She wanted me to stay afterwards and hold her but I wouldn’t. I think she was a little upset but I didn’t dare stay. Instead I went back downstairs, avoided Wesley and Fred and worried my way through the rest of the afternoon.
We’ll have to talk.
***
Wow, what can I say. It was... it wasn’t just sex. He did the things to me that I wouldn’t let him do the first two times and I did stuff to him because I wanted to and the kissing, geesh I think the only time we weren’t locking lips was when he or I had our mouths working elsewhere and I came! I came, I came, I came! So? It’s not like I’ve never orgasmed before but this was with Angel and it’s like there was so much pain getting here over this month... it was kind of special. If I still have the visions after this, then... I don’t know. We transferred fluids and we both got into it and we both climaxed and I think there was real affection there, if that counts? Like I said, it wasn’t just sex.He didn’t fall asleep with me. I wanted him to lie down again and let me hold him close, but I think he is worried. I guess, maybe, if we enjoy it too much...? Is that my cue to start worrying, too. He isn't in love with me, so it should still be safe but if we are a little too close to the edge? I suddenly had a real need to curl up and cry.
We have to talk it through.
***
“Cordelia? You are fond of me, aren’t you?”“Fond? Of course I am, I love you.”
“Yeah, you told me that before and I heard you tell Groo the same thing and I guess you must feel something for Giles and...”
“Angel...”
“It’s okay, I’m not winding up for a Giles tirade, but... when you said you loved me... well, does it mean you feel the same way about all of us?”
“All of you? My god, you make it sound as though I have a harem! Do women have harems? No, look, when I said I loved you, I said it as a friend. With Groo, well I loved the idea of being a princess and being adored and I think I got a little carried away with the occasion and anyway, that was alternate universe mumbo-jumbo - forget it and Giles... I haven’t told Giles how I feel...”
“But you love him?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Coming back to me for a minute... Cordy? Out of the three, where would I register on a scale of fondness?”
“Stop it, Angel... I love you... okay, I admit it’s changed since I first said it, what, nearly six months ago? You’ll have to be satisfied with that.”
“But I can’t, be satisfied, because all of a sudden I want more and I know I can’t have more - either because you can’t give me more or because, shit, it wouldn’t be healthy.”
“I do have health concerns, yes.”
“Cordelia, don’t look like that, I’m sorry... I’ll take what you can give and I’ll try not to be too happy about it, okay? But, to be safe...no more afternoon naps. Together.”
“No.”
“Cordy, about Giles... I won’t ever mention, I won’t push you any more to tell him... about the baby... because I want to be...”
“Angel, you are here, I’ve been looking for you all over... would you, would you sit down?”
“Heh, what’s the matter Wesley, you firing me?”
“No, please... I just had a phonecall from Xander... Cordelia, I think you should sit down as well...”
“Wes, out with it!”
“Xander... I don’t know how to tell you except...tell you... it’s Buffy, she’s back.”
Part 8
Mommy took me to the fair when I was little. We went every year. She would lift me up onto the carousel, the pink horse, I always wanted the princess-pink horse and then she’d stand back and wave while I went around and around. One year, when I was stretching to see mommy as she disappeared around the bend, I slipped off the horse and fell onto the wooden floor. I was scared being on the floor so I crawled into the middle where all the lights and music were. A man picked me up and lifted me into the still centre. Nothing moved but everything was whirling around me, the lights streaking and blurring and the music was out there and mommy was somewhere in the hazy long long-way away world, waving. I tried to look out into the world but I couldn’t. I had to stand there until it all wound down and stopped and then I ran through all the horses until I found mommy.
“Did you have a nice ride, Cordelia?”
Why did she ask? Didn’t she notice that I wasn’t there? I fell off the world and no-one noticed.
It happened again when Buffy came back. I fell off my world.
She’s back. I should feel something. Pity - that would be good, because it can’t be a a whole bundle of laughs coming back from the dead.
I can’t. All I can feel is hurt, for Angel. She died and he hurt, she's come back and he is hurting.
I suppose I should make an effort to write as much down as I can. Angel probably won’t be feeling like journal writing. I don’t know.
He wanted to leave Los Angeles straight away, as soon as Wes gave us the news. I offered to drive. I didn’t want him going by himself. I don’t think I had any other reason. I didn’t want him to be alone in Sunnydale when we didn’t know what to expect.
“She’s changed.”
That’s all Xander told Wesley. Changed.
Where had she been? How did she get back? Was she brought back or sent back? Is there a slayer’s heaven? She’d have to have gone to a good place, if there is a good place, if there is anywhere. What if she was enjoying being in the good place - with Joyce - and then she found herself yanked back to Sunnydale, back to facing evil every day?
I don’t suppose I’ll know anything until Angel comes back. He’s inside there right now, in her house.
He sat in the back seat all the way here, to Sunnydale, a big dark blanket wrapped around his shoulders and head in case the sun found a way in through the draped windows. I hope my baby travels better than Angel. He is so not cute. Back seat driver and ‘mommy are we nearly there’ rolled into one out-of-it vampire.
I couldn’t get him to talk much. He mumbled something about trying to pick up the crumbly dust and apart from that and occasional comments like “you can drive faster along this stretch, Cordelia” he was fairly quiet. At one point he startled me with an “Are you okay? Do you need to rest?” That was reassuring. He hasn’t gone away from me altogether.
Away from me - sounds as if he was with me. Whatever it is that has happened to us recently, if I lose that new closeness, we will still be friends, won’t we? Do you think he hates me because, you know, while we were making love she must have been coming back from the dead?
I should go inside. I told him I wanted to sit quietly in the car for a little while and rest. I’m a coward. I didn’t want to see her jump all over him or him hugging her and crying and...
It’s all quiet. A few cars in the drive, but no noise from the house, no partying. Shit, Cordelia, what do you expect? They’ll all be sitting in the kitchen with a beer in hand talking over the good old days while music blares out of the living room stereo?
The sun’s almost down. I’d better get it over with. He probably won’t want me to stay, he’ll tell me to go to a hotel for the night or take a coach back to L.A. or... I’ve fallen off my world and I don’t think Angel will ever notice, no-one will notice.
I’m okay now. I’m going inside.
***
I closed the front door behind me and listened, but I couldn’t hear any voices, only a vague movement upstairs.When Willow came running down the stairs I nearly jumped out of my skin. And I forgot to suck in my tummy.
***
“There you are. Good.”“Hi, Willow...”
“I was about to go find you. Angel said you had better come in out of the dark.”
“Is he...”
“I should be back up there. You’re pregnant?”
“I’m...”
“Hey, I don’t have time to listen to ‘Cordelia: Life Story’.”
“I need ...”
“Wait in the kitchen...”
“But...”
“There’s someone you know in there, you can keep each other company.”
“Is Angel...”
“Goddess, Cordelia, always me, me, me!”
“...okay?”
***
What happened? The Sunnydale Bitch left town and Willow got promotion? Oh, that would be... never mind. I couldn’t find any of my usual sassy replies. I was dry mouthed and tongue tied. Fortunate really, otherwise there might have been a brawl on the doorstep which would have gone down really well with Angel.Willow is still in shock, so she’s hitting out, right? Well, who am I going to hit out at? I probably won’t be allowed to because I’m Cordelia Chase and I don’t matter and.... God, what am I trying to prove scribbling in this book? I don’t matter, not to them. Everything here is about Buffy and she is the one back from the dead and nothing else is important.
Right now, I can’t feel it. Is there something wrong with me? My baby is number one and after baby comes Angel and I’m worried for Angel and about Angel and I don’t have much left inside for anyone else. I’m selfish, so sue me.
Is Angel happy for Buffy? I can’t understand how he could be. I think he is suffering for her because he knows what it is like to come back from the dead. Angel came back from Hell - is it the same process to come back from wherever she was? That’s why he was so anxious to get here. I don’t know when she arrived back but it must have been today; Xander called four hours ago so the pain must be raw and...
But I don’t know. I don’t know anything, nobody is telling me anything. Okay Cord, be fair. How can anyone talk to you when you ran back to hide in the car?
I don’t want to go into the kitchen and ‘chat’ to whoever - oh, please, not Xander - I don’t think I can do this...
I’ll just wait here and have a little tiny cry and.... no way, come on Cordelia, you’ve made it this far. As far as what? Hiding out in the convertible? Get back in there, don’t let them get to you. Wait for Angel.
***
“Oh, flaming heck, not you. Does the Geneva Convention mean nothing to you people? If you howl, I’ll put in a written complaint, if I ever get back the use of my arms and ...”
***
I can sit here in the kitchen and write and tune-out. Or I can sit and stare and tune-out. Either is a thousand times better than listening to Spike.They’ve got him tied up to a chair. Ropes and chains all around his body.
Spike brought Buffy back. Two days ago. Two days? Why didn’t we know? Why is he not dust? According to Spike he is the only one that knows how she got here and apparently that information is important. In case they want to send her back.
“Knocked up, pet? Which one of the ancients managed... oh, of course, it would have to be the barely alive human one. So, when will Junior Giles pop out? Enrolling him in Watcher’s School are you? Or if she has her mother’s voice she could get a job as a police siren...”
He has been yabbering away for an hour. I think this is his form of payback. Maybe I should sing, just to show who has the most power here. What do you think? A nice high-pitched Bee Gees number? “Tragedy”?
I suggested to Spike that he might like to hear a song and off he went, bellowing and raging and screaming, you’d think I was about to murder him!
There was a thunderous tramping overhead and on the stairs; anxious voices; the back door burst open and then the kitchen was full of people alternately yelling at and hushing Spike.
Angel, Willow, Xander, Spike and Giles.
And me. I slunk down into my chair and squinted at the noisy rush. I don’t think anyone realised I was there, at first.
The carousel kept on turning without me.
***
“Hey, enough with the noise!”“Buffy is frightened and, and bewildered and you two are fighting?”
“Stake him.”
“She was going to sing at me. She can disembowel at ten paces with that voice.”
“Shut up, Spike.”
“Sing? Cordelia this is no time for singing, what are you thinking?”
“Cordelia! You’re here?”
“Little Miss Me might be song-happy and prancing about all pregnant belly, but Buffy is upstairs and she...”
“Cordelia?”
“Rupert, tell them! She’s lethal!”
“Okay, I’m gonna gag him.”
“What? Puh-puh-pregnant?”
“Bloody hell! Daddy didn’t know?”
“Shut up, Spike!”
***
This wasn’t how I imagined it would be. I thought I would call Giles on the phone sometime before Christmas and calmly let him know I would be giving birth to his child and if he wanted to fly back to the US occasionally to visit...well, that would be fine as long as I had some advance notice and he would say “thank you for letting me know.”Angel grabbed me by an elbow and hauled me from the kitchen out to the living room. He didn’t look pleased.
I glanced over to the door-way. Giles was there with one of his old “for goodness sake, Cordelia” pursed-lip looks on his face. Willow tugged at his arm and then he was gone. I could hear him taking the stairs three at a time.
Continue on...