A slice of the familiar
It wasn't as if she wanted to be idle. It was either this - be suspended in the seemingly infinite loop of waiting - or be hit by a slayer. Again. And have a gigantic bruise on her face. Again.
Cordelia saw Wesley in the corner, nodded at him. Maybe she didn't even have to be here. There were certainly other people who could play nurse, right? How many were included in the arson attempt - five? How many were here, waiting - ten? Oh, she really wasn't needed here.
Plus, it wasn't likely that the all-muscle group would even be attacked. Maybe they'd be lucky. Wasn't torching the place and running away the main plan, anyway? No confrontation, burn and go. Maybe the ubervamps would be dead by the time they finish the job. Maybe--
Oh god, the ubervamps were fighting back. The all-muscle group were... wait. They were the ones falling like rag dolls. Cordelia gasped, as she saw him fall-- "You have to get them out of there, now!"
She didn't even have to bark the order. The next second brought the group to them, suffering from different degrees of near death.
Cordelia wanted to turn away. She was angry. She was mad. And yet-- the pain on his face. She could close her eyes, pretend he wasn't there, pretend that he was fine - but that was stupid. He was here, he wasn't fine, and he needed her help.
She strode towards him, unmindful of the two people who could use her assistance as well. Cordelia's eyes were locked with his, and she pursed her lips, ready to lecture him on his stupidity and whatnot.
Later, or tomorrow. She would be back to being a bit mad and hurt and angry. But now?
She tended to his wounds, and finally, finally, felt something familiar.