For Vic: Tragic (Cordelia/Sirius)
Just a very small ficlet for musesfool since it's her lj anniversary. I absolutely adored this pairing when I read it on Vic's site, so I figured I would give it a go. This isn't going to be completely shippy since I am trying to make the timelines work, and Cordy is about Harry's age when Sirius was alive, so it's more of an encounter/bond fic.
Disclaimer: Cordelia belongs to the Whedonverse and Sirius is property of Ms. Rowling. Not mine.
He hated being in there, even though he was told to stay. He never used to listen to what he was told, but this time he tried. For Harry. Harry needed him to be safe, even if it meant going crazy in that forsaken house, torturing him with his past, one he couldn't escape.
So he didn't listen today, like old times. He wandered out of the house and into the muggle world. He couldn't even be bothered to disguise himself as Padfoot -- Sirius needed to be outside, no matter what.
People didn't stare or even pay attention to him -- looking the part of a vagrant was a good way to be ignored among all the people in London. Maybe not with the wizarding world, always on alert to those around him, to those who might be like them, but he didn't care. He was disgusted that he wasn't caring anymore, mainly because of Harry. But that place was eating up what little of his soul was left, and nobody seemed to care about that.
He sat down on a bench in front of store that looked overpriced and sparse, something that there seemed to be plenty of in this part of Muggle London. Well-dressed people flitted around him, all in a hurry and leaving him to absorb it all, by himself.
Well, except for one.
"How tragic!" a voice from behind shouted.
"Pardon?" Sirius said, turning around thinking someone had spotted him. He was worried.
"Well, I wasn't talking to you, but yeah, you're rather tragic as well," she said, her accent revealing her American nationality. Her beautiful, young eyes shown with arrogance as she spoke to him with such dismissal.
"Cheers," responded Sirius, a small smile forming on his face.
"Yeah, whatever," she continued, "there was a huge sale in that boutique over there, but I forgot my daddy's credit card, so now I have to go back to the hotel and get it. I need a taxi."
"Sorry, can't help you there."
"Wait, are you still talking to me?" she asked, a stunned expression taking over her pretty face. Sirius could tell she was very young, but the attitude and way she dressed made it hard to tell just how old she was. But that wasn't the main thing that struck him about her.
"You were talking to me," Sirius said. "Or at least at me." She made a noise of annoyance as she glanced at the side, allowing the haughty display in her eyes to drop for a second.
"You remind me of how I used to be, when I was young," Sirius said. The girl's eyes grew large as her mouth dropped.
"I don't think so. I, Cordelia Chase, would never end up with such a tragic fate as yours."
Instead of the taking it like the insult it was intended to be, Sirius just smiled again. She was so much like him. Underneath that hard veneer (which wasn't completely an act, he damn well knew that), he could tell there was something in this young girl that wouldn't be so tragic-free. People like them just weren't allowed such fates. His smile faded.
"Of course. Just go get your daddy's credit card, Cordelia. And get your shopping done."
"That's what I am going to do," Cordelia said, before spotting a black cab and waving for it to stop.
As it pulled up to the pavement, she stepped in, giving Sirius one small glance and a brief smile before taking off.
He knew the fate of the beautiful and arrogant, yet emotional and frail. And yes, dear Cordelia, it was tragic.
The End
Disclaimer: Cordelia belongs to the Whedonverse and Sirius is property of Ms. Rowling. Not mine.
He hated being in there, even though he was told to stay. He never used to listen to what he was told, but this time he tried. For Harry. Harry needed him to be safe, even if it meant going crazy in that forsaken house, torturing him with his past, one he couldn't escape.
So he didn't listen today, like old times. He wandered out of the house and into the muggle world. He couldn't even be bothered to disguise himself as Padfoot -- Sirius needed to be outside, no matter what.
People didn't stare or even pay attention to him -- looking the part of a vagrant was a good way to be ignored among all the people in London. Maybe not with the wizarding world, always on alert to those around him, to those who might be like them, but he didn't care. He was disgusted that he wasn't caring anymore, mainly because of Harry. But that place was eating up what little of his soul was left, and nobody seemed to care about that.
He sat down on a bench in front of store that looked overpriced and sparse, something that there seemed to be plenty of in this part of Muggle London. Well-dressed people flitted around him, all in a hurry and leaving him to absorb it all, by himself.
Well, except for one.
"How tragic!" a voice from behind shouted.
"Pardon?" Sirius said, turning around thinking someone had spotted him. He was worried.
"Well, I wasn't talking to you, but yeah, you're rather tragic as well," she said, her accent revealing her American nationality. Her beautiful, young eyes shown with arrogance as she spoke to him with such dismissal.
"Cheers," responded Sirius, a small smile forming on his face.
"Yeah, whatever," she continued, "there was a huge sale in that boutique over there, but I forgot my daddy's credit card, so now I have to go back to the hotel and get it. I need a taxi."
"Sorry, can't help you there."
"Wait, are you still talking to me?" she asked, a stunned expression taking over her pretty face. Sirius could tell she was very young, but the attitude and way she dressed made it hard to tell just how old she was. But that wasn't the main thing that struck him about her.
"You were talking to me," Sirius said. "Or at least at me." She made a noise of annoyance as she glanced at the side, allowing the haughty display in her eyes to drop for a second.
"You remind me of how I used to be, when I was young," Sirius said. The girl's eyes grew large as her mouth dropped.
"I don't think so. I, Cordelia Chase, would never end up with such a tragic fate as yours."
Instead of the taking it like the insult it was intended to be, Sirius just smiled again. She was so much like him. Underneath that hard veneer (which wasn't completely an act, he damn well knew that), he could tell there was something in this young girl that wouldn't be so tragic-free. People like them just weren't allowed such fates. His smile faded.
"Of course. Just go get your daddy's credit card, Cordelia. And get your shopping done."
"That's what I am going to do," Cordelia said, before spotting a black cab and waving for it to stop.
As it pulled up to the pavement, she stepped in, giving Sirius one small glance and a brief smile before taking off.
He knew the fate of the beautiful and arrogant, yet emotional and frail. And yes, dear Cordelia, it was tragic.
The End