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 9
“Come on.”
“But...”
“I don’t want to stay and talk Cordelia, I want you out of here.”
“But...”
“He saw you, he knows.”
“Yeah, blab-mouth Willow! I should go up and speak with Giles now and ...”
“I hardly think this is the right time...”
“He must hate me...”
“Good! It can wait.”
“Hey, stop. Why don’t you just slap me, Angel? Then I can claw back! You’re so wired, you...”
“Outside.”
“Don’t push me!”
“I didn’t push but if you don’t move I will sling you over my shoulder, now walk!”
“Angry, much?”
“Yes. Not with you, it’s...”
“Not with me? So who are you angry with? I didn’t hear you yelling at anyone in there? ..... Oh, don’t! You’re upset, I’m upset and we don’t make a good upset tag-team. Drive me to the bus and I’ll get out of your hair...”
“No.”
“No? No what?”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“Angel... you dragged me out of the kitchen, pushed me out of the house and now you are trying to stuff me into the car and you...”
“I want you - here.”
“Now? On the sidewalk?”
“Stop it, Cordy. I don’t want you around Spike or Xander or ... or Giles or even Willow because you’ll get upset and then I get upset and yeah - we don’t do upset well together - but I want you to stay in Sunnydale. Get your leg in and let me close this door.”
“Where are we going?”
“Sunnydale Lodge or Sunnydale Motel or Sunnydale Resort... uh, no idea, you choose.”
“As long as there is a soft, clean bed and a lockable door, I don’t mind.”
***
Everything is all mixed up, messed around. Those walls, or heaps of rubble, aren’t holding much together right now. There’s Angelus bits floating around with Darla and Buffy and you and Liam and the baby and I just want to try and keep it all straight. I want to lean on you Cordy, but it isn’t fair to ask and I don’t blame you if you won’t stay.Do I need to worry about Angelus? Of course not, I’m not in the mood for perfect happiness, not tonight. And your demon? I’m still in control, right? I’m doing my best to keep everything in its place. I’m concentrating on keeping my words on the lines as I write. Did I write an entry a while ago about a roller-coaster? The Cyclone? What a fluffy name. It should be called a Hell Ride or a Desolation Dip.
What can I tell you about Buffy? I don’t think there is much. Spike got hold of some spell, found three powerful witches to carry it out and... she’s here again. He should be dust but I want to give him the best Angelus-like torture before that ever happens. He said he loves her? How can this be love? I don’t want to think about him now, ever. I hope he explodes in a pustule of...of... pus!
Buffy is alive again but she doesn’t know if she wants to be. She’s confused and in pain and can’t remember all of her life or the time of her death. She needs time to heal but I don’t think she will have time.
I didn’t think I could cope with her pain, but I did stay and I’ll stay for as long as she needs me. Sitting there, watching her as she lay on the bed, so tiny, drifting between sleep and consciousness.
I’m trying to scribble this down while Cordelia is showering. She looks tired, we’re all tired. I want to hold her close and sink into her and forget all the suffering. I want to fall asleep with her and wake up with her breath on my shoulder.
I don’t know if I can. Buffy’s back.
***
Angel made me shower and get ready for bed. Then he tucked me in and sat down alongside me.He took one room, with one bed for the both of us. He must have seen the look on my face when he pushed open the door, because he began to apologise straight away - for the room, the bed, the broken mirror, for wanting me, for pushing me away, for not saying anything, for saying too much. Comfort sex? Uh, no way. Then he said he needed me close - so I thought it would be okay.
He looked bad. He already has the pale look but now ... he looked grey and his eyes were, I don’t know... but when I looked into them I had to glance away because there was just too much... pain? How can I cope with all the trauma inside this man?
I needed to sleep but I couldn’t relax. My worry list was growing. Giles’ expression of irritation, Angel’s new low...
I asked Angel to tell me about Buffy.
***
“She’s changed, Cordy.”“People keep saying that, but how?”
“Buffy was dead and now she’s not. She’s confused and her slayer powers are gone and she looks older.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad, considering. With what she’s been through there are bound to be baggy eyes.”
“Actually older, not only tired and ill.”
“How much?”
“Maybe five years.”
“That makes twenty-five. Not old at all!”
“As long as there is no further aging. She was with Spike for a few hours when she came back, so we don’t know how she looked at first. Giles is working on finding out more.”
“Why didn’t we know Giles was here? No, you don’t have to tell me, it’s not about Little Miss Me, god, I hate...”
“Calm down. Willow was upset, too, I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm. You have to make some allowances Cordelia. Anyway, Giles arrived this morning. They didn’t want to tell me about Buffy until they knew a little more. In case... in case I got my hopes up.”
“Can they send her back to... to wherever she was?”
“It’s not an option. There’s no guarantee on where they would be sending her. For the moment we have to wait and hope she gets better or... or that the end is quick. I don’t want her to suffer, Cordelia. Either way, I’ll be staying in Sunnydale for a while. I owe her that.”
“Oh.”
“Cordy, I want you to stay. You can help me focus. All the stuff in my head is kind of screwed - you know those walls I told you about? They’re.... never mind, I really do understand if you want to go back to L.A. You could take the car and drive back tomorrow or...”
“I’ll stay for tomorrow. I need to see Giles. After that...”
***
So she is staying because of Giles.She was talking quietly, about the baby and Giles and.... there was something I had to do that was important, I knew it was important, but it had vanished. I slipped my head to her shoulder. It was bare and cool and soft and the hunch fitted into the hollow of my cheek and my lips brushed against the blue-veins inside her arm. So significant... but whatever it was I couldn’t find it. What did I forget? Is there so much I have lost from my memory? But I remember... six hours ago I was running my tongue over the swell of her breast and listening to her low throaty moans... there was something I’d forgotten to do.
I nuzzled my nose into the flesh of her arm, kissed my way over the tender curve and quietly bit into the sweet, precious pulp, releasing a splashing spring of fragrant life into my starved mouth.
***
“I’m going to find another room.”“Cordelia, I swear, I wasn’t... I didn’t plan to bite you... it happened...”
“That makes it better?”
“No.”
“Give me the car keys.”
“But... you said another room...”
“In another hotel, shit, another town!”
“Please, listen to me... I’d been thinking about being in bed with you, this afternoon and then it was as if I had to do some major deal but I couldn’t remember what and then I was... biting you.”
“Angel, I can look after myself. The baby can’t. My blood is for my child, not you. What would have happened to the baby if... if... oh, god...”
“Cordelia... I took maybe a mouthful... it won't have hurt the baby, Cordelia...”
“Don’t touch me! How do you know? What if you hadn't stopped drinking when I yelled? You... you said the walls, something about the walls - being mixed up, so why... I can’t trust you..... Angel?”
“No. You should never trust me. I don’t trust myself.”
“Wrong answer.”
***
I didn’t leave. I was too tired and teary to go anywhere. Angel told me to stay put and he’d go and see about a room for himself but I had a vision before he was out the door. A sort of vision. For a minute I thought I was seeing things because there was a thing attacking well... someone and they were hell, someplace... I couldn’t tell... there was no sound, no smell, no feelings, and the biggie... no splitting head-ache.I turned around to call after Angel that I’d had a vision but he was still by the door, leaning his forehead against the wall.
***
“Angel there is a thing somewhere and I can’t ... shit I can’t tell what or who or. ... Angel?”“You had a vision? But...”
“Are you okay?”
“I think I had ... what did you see?”
“This is ridiculous... there was this ... it was coloured and it was... it had... I can see it Angel, but I can’t say it...and there was nothing else, nothing!”
“I felt... I think maybe I had part of your vision.”
“What?”
“I got a twinge of pain and I could hear screams and smell this really acrid...ugh and taste it...”
“Excuse me, a twinge of pain?”
“Sorry...maybe it isn’t a crucial vision and...”
“What’s going on? Is this because we were making... we had sex this afternoon? Or you drinking my blood?”
“Drinking is a big word, Cordelia, really a sip... I don’t know... absorption into the demon-blood, it could... I don’t know... and it isn’t much use to us if we can’t put the two together... can you try and explain again?”
“Angel - I can see it all perfectly, but when I go to find the words - they aren’t there - I can’t even tell you the colour of the whatsy!”
“Sit down, try not to think and...”
***
Then he put his hand on my shoulder to steer me to the bed. That’s when he stopped me and grabbed me by both shoulders. He said he could see the vision as soon as his hand touched me. I had to run it through twice before he got the gist of the message. I guess it takes some people longer to get the hang of it all.So Angel gets the sense-a-rama and I get the wide screen pictures. There was all that business about “absorption into the demon-blood.” Were we doing it wrong all the time? Having sex instead of a quick snack? This couldn’t be right. If it was the blood he took from me - did he take enough? He as sure as heck won’t be getting any more! Or does it need time to get around his system properly. Next time there’s a vision he might get the lot? I wonder if it was the PTB that made him bite me? I really, really, really hope so. I don’t want to be forever wondering if Angel looks hungry.
But, hey, isn’t this where I am full of relief? I’m rid of the pain, I don’t have to worry about baby being hurt? I am. I am so grateful - who to? Angel? The Powers? Nuh, I still want to bop them one if I ever meet them/him/her/it.
Angel didn’t look too affected by the headache. More surprised than anything. Now I’m going to have to hang around Sunnydale until Angel is ready to go home, at least while we are getting half a message each. So not looking forward to sitting around a kitchen full of Spike! No, Spike I can handle. Honestly, I don't know if I can handle seeing Angel maybe lose Buffy all over again.
I really need to spend some time stressing over Giles. Tomorrow morning, first thing, baby, we talk to daddy. I don’t want him to hate me. Please, don’t let him hate me.
I hope Angel is safe. That whatsy looked mean. I want to go to sleep but I want to stay awake until he comes home... back here, I mean.
Part 10
Listen to Angel and you’d think we were joined at the hip. We have to go everywhere together, according to him, in case there are any visions. Okay, so I intended going to the Summer’s house this morning anyway, but after that I had hoped to nap back at the Motel. I didn’t sleep well last night. Angel sort of takes up the whole bed and he sleeps on his back with his legs spread and arms flung out. Not a lot of room for little old me with the belly that needs a touch extra space!
He came back from dealing with the whatsy near the old warehouse, crawled into bed and said “it’ll be fine, you can snuggle up to me”. Yeah, right. He’s slap bang in the middle of this crummy Hotel bed and there’s nowhere for my legs except curled up and... geesh! You can tell he’s not used to sharing! Neither am I, but that is beside the point. I’m not a six foot over-muscled hulking bed-hogger.
And I was still a fraction worried. You know, in case he got peckish or the PTB decided to send him another ‘bite her’ message - whatever it was that made him bite me on the arm. I'm almost convinced it had to be the Powers. The business with the visions was too much of a coincidence, right? I can trust him. Why would they tie me even more to a vampire that I couldn't trust? Since when have I trusted the Powers? Geesh. Then there was the Giles worry and the Buffy worry and more Angel worry and I even managed a little bit of Cordelia and baby worry in between dozes.
I woke up this morning and found I had snuggled into his cool, motionless side. (Angel doesn’t make a sound when he sleeps, no breathing, no moving, talk about corpse-like!) He was already awake and watching me. That is so weird to wake up and look right into another pair of eyes! I’m used to seeing Teddy’s eyes every morning, but he stares at the wall. Angel was staring at me. When he saw I was awake he smiled and muttered something about my breath on his shoulder. Well, doesn’t he wake up all bottom-of-a-bird-cage smelly mouth?
Who am I kidding? Waking up that way - it was great, it was lovely, it was comfortable and vaguely sexy and it lasted all of two minutes. Buffy, Giles, Angel, Cordelia, Sunnydale...ugh, I wanted to go right back to sleep.
Angel hasn’t been writing in his journals, not that I have seen. Wouldn’t it do him good to write? In his Buffy book?
***
“You were restless.”“Yep.”
“You thought I’d go for the jugular?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“Sorry. I’ll see about another room today, okay?”
“A new bed might be good, something that isn’t designed for a five foot two salesmen.”
“We should get up.”
“Oh, no, I want to snooze, please? No? Does Giles know where we are?”
“I, um, I called in at Buffy’s last night, on my way back from the warehouse. I let them know we’d be here - just in case.”
“Oh. How is she?”
“The same. I didn’t stay very long.”
“Did you see Giles?”
“No. Xander.”
“Right.”
“Cordy, I know I said yesterday that... well, if you didn’t tell Giles about the baby, I’d support that decision but now he does know and if you think you can ... if you and Giles can be together, with the baby, as a family... then I think that would be good... for you... and...”
“Why do I feel as though I’m being dumped? Didn’t we try and dump each other over that whole Darla thing? You’re doing it again?”
“No, I’m not, Cordy, but I want you to be safe with the baby.”
“So, scenario... Giles is over the moon, tells me he loves me, he can’t wait to be a daddy and he aims for six more babies and wants me to go back to England with him... um, tomorrow!”
“Well... the er, to England? It’s really cold there Cordelia and you’d lose your tan. And the visions! You know you have to be close by to help me out with the visions and...”
“Scenario two... Giles is over the moon, tells me he loves me, he can’t wait to be a daddy and wants a huge family and I ask him to come back to Los Angeles with me?”
“You’d both be in LA? Giles could take an apartment close by, right? Visit the baby once a month and...”
“This is supportive?”
“I admit, I have Giles issues, but I will try. You need someone decent, to look after you.”
“’Scuse me? I can look after myself and my family! I don’t need to latch onto a man just because...”
“We should be going.”
“Geeze, the conversation gets sticky, and you’re out the door!”
“I want to see Buffy.”
***
And I wanted to see Giles.It was only six thirty. We stopped by an early morning delicatessen (for me) and the friendly family butcher (for him) and collected breakfast. Neither of us had eaten since yesterday lunch - not counting Angel’s little snack.
When we arrived at the house it was much quieter than when we left last night. Spike had been relocated to the basement to ease everyone’s ears and nerves and itchy stake fingers. Willow was busy cooking a bulk breakfast in the kitchen. I offered to help but, whatever.
I sat in the living room with my donuts and coffee. I had just chowed down on my third particularly chubby cream-filled chocolate-coated donut when Giles walked in. Damn men and their timing! I was caught all creamy mouth and that did not help my level of not-much confidence. I was sure there was a streak of chocolate up one side of my cheek.
I wasn’t expecting twenty questions. In my little cocoon of hope, I thought it would be “Marvellous news, Cordelia. I fully understand your hesitation in informing me. When is the baby due?” I mean, come on Cordy, this is Giles we are talking about!
Giles looked tired and almost as pale as Angel, but he smiled. Kind of forced, but I have to give him points for trying.
***
“Breakfast. That’s a good idea, Cordelia. I think Willow is still baking mine.”“Want some?”
“Thank you, if you’ve had enough?”
“Oh, one donut is more than plenty for me. Help yourself.”
“Are you well?”
“Good, really good.”
“I’m not quite sure how to ask, but last night...well, Spike made a point of emphasising the possible paternity of your child, and I...”
“Giles, please, nervous is one thing, but don’t hide behind words, okay?”
“Of course. You are pregnant? The child is mine?”
“Oh, no! Gee, let’s see, as soon as I left Sunnydale I drove back to Los Angeles and jumped the bones of the first old guy I could...”
“Cordelia, please, I had to ask.”
“Why would that be?”
“You haven’t actually told me anything. Call it confirmation of the whispers going around this house, if you like.”
“Sorry. Yes, I am pregnant. See? One small bulge. Yes, you are the father. No other contenders.”
“So much for, um, protection. Did we use any of the out-of-date, er, you know...?”
“The very first one? I think that was grab-anything-you-could-find and yeah there were quite a few of those expired condoms from under the bed but you did go out afterwards to buy a new packet and unless it was that time we did it later when...but how it would get from...”
“Um, no...no, I don’t think so...”
“In Sex Ed they told us sperm can travel a long way, so...”
“No, really Cordelia, I hardly think it is likely, and anyway, it isn’t important now. Were you planning on informing me of my, er, impending parenthood?”
“Yes.”
“Oh? When, exactly?”
“I’m not sure - probably November, a few months before my due date.”
“I see. Any particular reason for the delay?”
“I was kind of scared, at first, and I wanted you to have that break in England. If I had said 'I’m having your child, enjoy the trip' you might not have left.”
“That was my decision to make, not yours.”
“It was my decision whether to involve you or not. Angel said...”
“Oh, Angel. I can imagine what he would say.”
“Then you’d be wrong... at least, back then you would have been wrong... never mind. How was your trip home?”
“Nothing exciting. Rather lonely.”
“I thought you would be over there kicking up your heels with one of those English ‘birds’.”
“Well, there was one but... it turned out she, um, had a penchant for younger men.”
“You are a younger man? Gee, how old was she?”
“No, she took a fancy to the baker’s boy, he was nineteen. He wooed her with his sticky buns. Pillock.”
“So anyone who dates an older person is one of these pillocks? Me too?”
“You? Oh, you and me. That’s entirely different and... unfair. You knew I had age issues going into the relationship.”
“Didn’t stop you.”
“No.”
“Giles, could you possibly say ‘unfortunately’ any louder?”
***
I spent several hours talking to Giles, on and off between his visits upstairs to check on Buffy. By mid-morning I’d had enough, from both of us, of accusations, remorse, excuses, nostalgia and the odd, occasional, flirtatious comment. It was weird. I think we are both still attracted to each other, but... it was so confusing, there’s so much other stuff there. What is it with me and sex recently? Hormonal, right? The pregnant woman’s convenient answer to everything. I pleaded exhaustion (true) and made myself comfortable on the sofa for a nap. I think Giles felt guilty - probably blaming himself for ever acknowledging my existence. I remember him sitting at the end of the sofa, rubbing my bare feet. I must have fallen asleep with him gently massaging my soles.When I woke, baby, your daddy was sitting in an armchair, reading through some old books. He still looked tired, his glasses half way down his nose and that ruffled, been up all night hair-style. He probably had been up all night, trying to help Buffy.
I had hardly pushed myself up to a sitting position when I saw more pictures in my head, of wordless ‘things’. I was wondering whether to run upstairs to find Angel and risk the wrath of Willow when I heard him coming down the stairs. The irritable glare on his face when he saw Giles sitting opposite me was so cute. Cute? I called Angel cute? Geesh. He sat down next to me, as close as possible and snuck his hand onto my back so he could ‘see’ the vision. Is this a secret? I almost laughed out loud. We must have looked silly. He was only there for a minute and then he was off again, saying he had to call Wesley. An L.A. vision? I hope the guys can manage okay.
There’s so much emotion running around inside this house. Scary. Everyone is so tense and hell, they need to get it out somehow.
***
“What was all that about?”“Um, Angel? He was just checking on me... oh, what the heck, it was a vision.”
“A vision? But... You didn’t say anything... and what happened to all the pain? How did Angel know...?”
“I’ve given up asking the PTB why they do what they do, but this time I gotta thank them! It’s all-new! I get the pictures, you see, in my head and Angel gets the sound and fear and smelly stuff and the headache. Then when he touches me he gets the complete message.”
“For goodness sake, how ridiculous.”
“Hey, I don’t get the body splitting pain, nor does the baby - so it’s a huge improvement to me!”
“But it requires physical contact to complete the message? So, you both need to be reasonably accessible at all times?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Ridiculous!”
“You already said.”
“At least before you could be in a different city and phone the details through! Now... now you are literally chained together.”
“Well, um...”
“You don’t mind?”
“It’s still new and I’m not quite used to it but it is better than the pain-o-gram.”
“You don’t mind! Working in close contact with a vampire? Exposing yourself and my child to all the inherent risk? I won’t have it!”
“No, buster, you don’t have it! Angel is good - mostly!”
“Angel is a vampire, not to be trusted, a monster who could turn on you without warning!”
“I don’t care what...”
“No, you don’t. You don’t care. But this is my child and I do care! I would expect more responsibility from you Cordelia.”
“Huh? More from me? Which me? This me? The old me? Last year’s me? You want me to walk away? Because I can’t do that, I won’t do that. I’ve been trying to get rid of the visions for months because of the baby and now I have a compromise - I have a job to do and people to help but I’m telling you, I’d still be working with Angel even if I lost the visions altogether! Don’t shake your head at me. Angel said you’d...”
“Angel! I’m sick and tired of hearing ‘Angel says’ - damn it woman, anyone would think you were in love with him!”
“Giles, it kind of grates my sensitive ears hearing your name on Cordelia's lips every five minutes but I guess we will both have to learn to cope. Cordy, why don’t you run upstairs and help Willow?”
“Oh, geeze, get out of the dark ages, both of you! I’m not going anywhere - there will be no male posturing!”
“There are things that need to be said, Cordy.”
“Maybe, but I am capable of saying them! Not you, Angel!”
“If you ever hurt her or my child, Angel, I swear...”
“Won’t happen. If you upset Cordelia once more then...”
“Yes, Angel? You’ll tie me to a chair and torture me for hours?”
“Oh, it’s tempting, believe me.”
“My god, when I consider the opportunities I’ve had to put an end to you Angel, I could weep.”
“Care to try it now?”
“Oh, terrific! Guys, if we had Xander here, my joy would be complete.”
“Someone called my name?”
Part 11
I have hardly written in this journal since we arrived but my Buffy book is nearly full. I sit and write while I watch Buffy sleep or as she gazes out the window. Conversation is impossible. She doesn’t want to speak anymore. She is shrivelling and fading in front of me. No more aging - but sinking in and going away and ... Giles can’t stop it and we have decided not to make any other attempts (it’s about the only issue we do agree on.) Let her go back. It is horrendous. I don’t want to do this all over again, lose her, weep for her, ache for her. “...and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.” I’ve already done that, haven’t I? How cold do those words look? This fading figure on the bed isn’t the Buffy I knew. I’m watching an image of her die, not Buffy. I’m grieving for my Buffy, for the Buffy whose death I didn’t see. I’m doing it now.
I’ve spent a lot of time up here by her bed, and much of that I have been trying to transform the mountains of rubble in my head into fortified partitions. In a few days, I’m going to need to them. When Buffy leaves me and later, if or when Cordelia leaves me - she will, I can sense it.
Cordelia is being put through the wringer - between that pile of dog shit and me and then the external pressures of being in Sunnydale. I think she is depressed. I asked Xander to drive Cordelia back to the Motel after he walked in on my conversation with Giles. She rounded on me like a spitting cat, fur raised and accused me of trying to get rid of her so I could rip out Giles’ throat. I wonder if these co-visions are giving her mind-reading skills?
Cord asked Giles to take her to the Motel. Of course, he refused to go and told Xander to take her out. Cordelia didn’t realise there were issues of face at risk, not at first. When she clicked - I think it was the slow paced circling that gave it away - she simply snorted and shoved the dickhead out the door.
The rat spew has been gone for an hour. I don’t believe that he is at the Motel with Cordelia, not after this morning’s performance. He’ll be driving around and around, using up my gas, just to piss me some more.
Shit, I’m going to have to edit all of this and re-write, again. Sorry, baby. One day I might be able to write your father’s name without any obscene descriptive terms attached.
***
“Well, I must say, it is rather, um, plush - don’t you think?”“Cheap. Glitzy. Crap. A honeymoon suite.”
“Er, yes.”
“Can you imagine anyone wanting to honeymoon in Sunnydale?”
“No, but...a demon king and queen?”
“Crimson drapes and a pink carpet...and, my god, it’s an out-size wiggly bed!”
“Yes, I do see.”
“I did ask for a bigger bed. That’s all I wanted - oh, wow, a jacuzzi!”
“Yes, a magnificent, what would you say - puce? - piece. I’m sure you will have hours of enjoyment, but...”
“No. Pregnancies and watery bubbles. Not good.”
“Oh, really? But you could enjoy a soak, surely?”
“Mmmm... what’s with this bed-canopy?”
“It appears to be broken on one side.”
“Only the best. Hey, maybe the demon king was swinging from it to.... Boy, mirrors! On the ceiling!”
“Yes. Where...where abouts is Angel’s room?”
“Oh, he can stay in the old room.”
“The old room - there was only one room last night?”
“For heaven’s sake, please don’t get snooty again. We had to share.”
“Well, obviously you think it is none of my business, but...”
“Got it in one.”
“Very well, but...”
“Drop the but’s and we’ll get along fine, Giles. I’m sorry, I’m tired. Can we please not talk about Angel?”
“Lie down, put your feet up. Do you want me to stay for while?”
“Will you do something really special for me?”
***
Cordelia can be extremely persuasive at times, particularly when she looks at one, just so.I don’t know you. In fact I have only just been told of your existence. Please, don’t hold it against me in later years, but the news was slightly unsettling. I’m not prepared to be a father. I have a great deal to learn.
Your mother is, quite frankly, an irritatingly adorable young woman whom I would do well to distance myself from - if it wasn’t for you.
I think I was on the verge of falling into a fascinating obsession with her when you were conceived, but we parted. Now she, and you, are in my life and I have been experiencing an exhilarating standing-on-the-edge-of-a-precipice feeling. I want to jump off, just to see what will happen. Whether I will float away on a soft breeze or plummet to a rocky end. Not surprisingly, the soft breeze is the preferred option, but I have no guarantee that your mother will return the sentiment. It is far too early to ask her to jump, do you think?
I was able to touch you today. Cordelia needed to rest after an upsetting morning and I asked her if I could possibly say ‘hello’ to you. I doubt you heard me, it was no more than a whisper. I felt rather ridiculous, I’m sorry, talking to a small mound in an otherwise flat tummy - I could cover you with my hand. I’m sure I shall improve. Writing to you, here, feels remarkably good. I am accustomed to keeping diaries - factual, dry affairs for the most part - but I will do my best to keep a record of emotions as well as occurrences, as requested by your mother.
There is an unrelated, but sadly distressing event ocurring in my life right now. I am not at my fittest. I promise to write more later.
In growing fondness, your father.
***
I asked Giles to keep a diary. I wonder if he will and, if he does, whether it will be a stodgy day by day entry or if he will actually open up. Of course I had to promise not to ask to read it or try and sneakily read it! As if!I think he has settled down since the confrontation with Angel and since he discovered that he and I don’t actually agree on a lot of things - like vampires or wanna-be dictators. I defended Angel, it was automatic. I conveniently blocked out The Bite and Sleeping With Darla and The Rift. Giles’ comment about me being in love with Angel - what was that about? He’s being protective? Jealous? I didn’t think about it much at the time because that was when Angel came in and the posturing and pacing started. Men!
Do I act like I’m in love with Angel? I’m attracted to him, true (geesh, was it only yesterday we spent a very pleasant half hour at the Hyperion trying to transfer the visions?) and I love him and sometimes, when I worry about him, it’s like a dull ache - sure, but we are best friends and that is all normal, right? I’m too sensible to let myself fall for him. Do I have to make myself write some more lines? I know how I feel and everything is okay. I think.
Giles. Your father. What can I say? Did he grow up in the middle ages with Angel? The same alma mater? Sometimes the attitudes, from both of them, are too smothering. I think your father is trying not to say what he really feels, so he doesn’t set me off, which isn’t good. Am I that scary? Angel huffs and puffs and threatens to rip out throats. Nothing new there. But why? He hates Giles that much? I know there are issues, but... weird!
I hope, by the time you are born, we will be able to have ‘family’ get-togethers without having to worry about strutting face-offs or blood-letting on my carpet.
Giles said that Buffy would probably die tomorrow. He’s bitter and sad because he hasn’t been able to help her. God, they are both going to hurt so much. Will Angel withdraw again and Giles... I don’t know how Giles will react.
I’ve been thinking about Spike. Once Buffy has gone, what is to stop him trying to resurrect her again? What happened to the rules? You die, you’re dead. No-one has told me what will happen to Spike when it is over. Are they just going to let him walk?
***
“Look at her.”“No.”
“Look at her you filthy headfuck... your pathetic excuse for love did that... you don’t know what love is ... you fucking obsessive, self-serving cretin...”
“I needed her...”
“Listen to me, you need nobody because you are nothing, you are lower than a fly’s maggot begging to eat my shit...”
“She... aargh! You freaking reject...”
“Don’t even think you can say her name. I’ll twist your puny arm until it pops out of its socket... Hear that? Music to my ears.”
“Bastard ... Let me stay... I only want to tell her...”
“Stay? No. Are you crying, Spike? How about a game to cheer you up? I feel like a game? Do you want to play, Spike? No? Let’s play kick Spikey down the stairs - all of the stairs... I’ll go first, shall I?”
***
I had a fifteen minute window when everyone was out.I made Spike go upstairs to look at her, to see what he had done to her, how he was torturing her in the name of love. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to see him sicken because it might make me feel better. The relief was fleeting.
He started to cry. Christ, what right did he have to shed a tear over Buffy? I don’t have words enough to describe how much I despised and hated him then, and now.
I did kick him down the stairs, all the way to the basement. He bounced and cracked his way to the bottom. I didn’t feel any satisfaction. Momentary pleasure, yes, but I’ll never be able to even the pain he has caused Buffy out of his mutant puking ‘love’.
I’m thinking Spike should disappear, quietly.
I should feel bad, I should feel guilty. I don’t. I just hope Cordelia doesn’t find out.
I don’t want you to think I am a violent man. I’m not, usually. Okay, I do tend to “think” in fairly physical terms when I am trying to resolve a situation but I rarely follow through. Yeah, I did kick Spike down the stairs, both sets - but, I haven’t tortured him as I threatened to do...well, there was the arm-out-of-socket business, but he hardly felt that. Anyway, you might think I am vicious or aggressive but... just ask your mother. She once told me I was cuddly, for a vampire.
This should all be over by tomorrow, possibly tonight. We hope. Buffy will die and then we will all die before we can live.
***
“Cordelia! Have you come to tell me she is dead?”“Yes. They are moving her body now.”
“Where are they taking her?”
“The cemetery of course. Dig up the grave and put her back in her coffin. Here, I brought you some blood.”
“I want to be there.”
“Huh. To pay your respects? You don’t know what respect is.”
“Listen, pet, Buffy would have loved me, we just needed more time...”
“Oh? Shame the reviving spell didn’t work, because there is no more time.”
“I can get her back.”
“No, you won’t. I won’t let you. You’ll leave her in peace.”
“Pff! You? What’s it to you?”
“You’ve hurt Giles and Angel and I’m going to see to it you never harm either one of them again ...”
“That’s a positive, upsetting your pretty-boys. Keeping them both, are you? Not that I’m interested... You going to give me that blood before it gets cold?”
“I’ll have to untie you.”
“Now that’s a bloody nuisance, I was just getting comfy.”
“Try to get away, I’ll stake you. See? I brought a really sharp pointy stick with me.”
“Hm, nice model. Actually, not to offend, but I thought I might have a little snack, pop out to the cemetery and be back before you can say ‘sucker’.”
“No, Spike, please don’t.”
“Now that has to be the most unconvincing plea, ever! How much are you paying for those acting classes? A bit of begging with a touch of whine, but a flat ‘No, Spike’ - sorry, precious, but it doesn’t make me want to hang around.”
“I’m glad you won’t listen...”
“Whaaa...?”
Continue on...