The happy highways where I went and cannot come again...

[welldressedseer]

Who: Cordelia - Open for anyone
Where: Cordelia's Office
When: A day or two later, mid-morning
Status: Just beginning

Cordelia sat at her desk looking immeasurably bored. Her brown eyes panned over the office, passing the time. It was a nice large office, one of the nicest besides Angel's, the vampire had made sure of that. The view was lovely too and

Comments

[welldressedseer]

"Well there's no point wearing the shirts if you don't go all the way. And whats the difference anyways if you barely come out of your office?" In fact, in the last week, she was fairly certain she'd seen him three times, and they were his infrequent breaks to the bathroom. Cordelia was fairly certain he wasn't bothering to go out anywhere and eat like a sane person would. She looked him over critically, but a smile played across her lips. Part of giving Wesley a hard time was just to lighten the mood. The other part really was that his appearance could use help.

The woman regarded him when he insisted he'd slept and decided that it was a battle better left unfought. Wes worked himself this hard some days at the old investigations job so this wasn't really that different. And Cordelia really hadn't been around long enough to see if this behavior was consistent. "Well, so long as you eventually take some sort of break," she cautioned.

The Henderson file... hmn. Cordelia pursed her lips for a moment while she thought about it. "Either I have in this stack of stuff Angel suggested I read to get caught up," she said, gesturing to an untidy pile of folders and papers in the corner of her desk, "or... Did you check with Harmony? If Angel knows where it is, she would too."

Cordelia started idly leafing through some of the stack while she waited for him to reply. There was so much to read in the archives that Cordelia would probably have been there for life if the others and Angel hadn't come up with a concise list of things for her to look over.

"And thank you, my filing system was fantastic. We always found stuff, didn't we? And we never had to look through an ENTIRE law firm."

[_wes_pryce_]

That...was a train of thought he couldn't quite follow. Wesley chalked it up on him being exhausted and the fact that he could never follow Cordelia when she started to blather on about clothes. He'd learned a long time ago to just nod and hum at the right places. Though, he was to tired, frustrated and quite possibly to overworked for that as well.

For a moment he wondered how he could be more over-worked when he now had some many people to delegate work to. Of course then he figured that was the whole problem. Being charge meant responsibility and it wasn't just Cordelia, Angel, Fred and Gunn he had to think about. There was also the fact that he didn't trust the people working for his department very much.

Wesley gave Cordelia a weak smile at the resting comment and didn't reply. Deep down he thought they had somewhere along the way lost their usual snark. Once again he found himself doubting their choice to follow Angel no questions asked. Which still rang a tiny little alarm bell inside him. Wesley *always* asked questions.

"I checked with Harmony," he muttered, turning around the office and taking in it's decor. Wesley thought it was very Cordelia like...but felt there was something missing. Though her remark about her filing system earned her an incredulously raised eyebrow.

"Correction," he said, "*You* were the only one to *sometimes* find things. Seriously Cordelia, only you would file a Thompson case under 'I' for 'Icky' or 'M' meaning they had money." Scrunching up his nose, Wesley recalled the many times he had tried to salvage the system while Cordelia was away. It was a job with no end in sight.

[welldressedseer]

Her office was spacious, with colorful paintings hung on the walls and uniquely patterned pillows accenting black leather furniture. An ornate and rather fitting mirror hung on the wall behind her desk, centered over a table that had some cosmetics and jewelry scattered across it. There were only a few pictures on her large desk, something that was starting to bother her with the infrequency of time all the friends now spent together.

"Excuse me?" She sat up a little straighter then. "I never used 'Icky' as a label! " The protest was strong, but she seemed to completely ignore the other file heading he had mentioned. "We got along just fine with my system before," she muttered softly.

Cordelia rest her head on her hand with a sigh. Wesley was looming over her with a very dorky expression and all she could do was grin, perhaps just the least bit antagonistically. "Stop scrunching up your face and being all crabby. And anyways... when did you stop wearing your glasses? I know something has looked less dorky-- er... scholarly? ...lately."

Really, she didn't mean it in a particularly mean way. Just a... her and Wesley sort of way. Cordelia kept eye contact with him and flashed an overly cheery smile. She actually was quite curious though and her arched brow was a clear indicator of that fact. Some time before he had stopped wearing them, but her memory was still terribly fuzzy for a good portion of time before the coma. She just one day noticed them gone. Wasn't he going blind?

[_wes_pryce_]

An eyebrow was raised quickly followed by another one when she denied her filing system. "Yes you did," he muttered, "either that or 'G' for 'gross'." The corners of his mouth twitched lightly when he thought about the thousand of arguments they had had over the years about said filing system. He remember trying to make some sense of it everytime Cordelia would be gone from the office for more then a few hours. Which was, he remembered, a lot likely to happen in the beginning then it had later on.

"*You*," Wesley pointed out and pointed a finger at her at the same time, "were the only one who got along with the filing system." Wesley had figured it out years ago and theorized on the why that was. Then he figured that if Cordelia was the only one who'd find her way around the files, they would need her. And not just for the visions. Of course he never told her this theory. He liked his head where it was, right on his shoulders and intact.

"I'm not crabby," Wesley started, opening his mouth to get out some more cunning remarks when her next one threw him off track. He blinked at her, brought his hand up to the space where his glasses should be and frowned.

"I..." He had no idea when or why he stopped wearing his glasses. Just that he found himself time and again reaching for them like an old friend gone lost. He had no idea why he'd started wearing contact lenses, just that they annoyed him to no end. But try as he may, he couldn't find any of his glasses *anywhere*.

"I...don't know," he concluded, a sheer look of panic fleeing over his face for only a second before he got himself under control.

"Why?" he wanted to know, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She and Angel were about the only ones who were able to get that feeling to the fore these days. "Are you trying to distract me from the fact that your miss-placed the Henderson file?" he added, slightly amused.

[welldressedseer]

He was probably the better for refraining from mentioning such a theory. Even if there was some modicrum of truth to it, Cordelia would never admit it. There was once a time where she invented tasks and reasons for raises, before she'd really commited to staying with the group. Overall, with so many failed auditions and discovering so many creeps in Hollywood, she really preferred to avoid thinking about those times.

"For your information, Mr. Forgetful, the category was 'D' 'disgusting.' And there were several others. Like 'E' for 'evil,' and... well whatever. Only a couple headings per drawer keeps... kept, it easier!" Cordelia crossed her arms and eyed him, daring him to argue her clearly fantastic logic further.

Cordy shook her head. "Oh you are definitely crabby. It's part of your alluring British charm," she teased, clearly sarcastic. The smile on her lips wasn't particularly malicious though. Back in her time Cordelia was one of the cruelest girls in all of Sunnydale, but those days were long past and her spiteful words nowadays were saved for those clearly and truly evil and deserving. Her friend hadn't risen to the bait, instead seeming quite strangely confused by her question.

Cordelia laughed and tilted her head. "What do you mean you don't know? Did you just wake up one day with contacts in and decide that it wasn't worth exploring the supernatural causes?" She figured it happened some time in her absence. "And I don't know why. I was just looking at this picture and it occured to me. I came back and it was like everything," and when she said everything she pretty much meant it, "..had changed." Her voice trailed off and she glanced down.

She tried to hide the serious tone her voice had taken with a perky and dismissive laugh. "Right right, the Henderson file. Um... if you want to sit for a minute I'll look through this stuff."

[_wes_pryce_]

While she was still rambling away, - something he only caught her doing while he or Angel had been around he realized somewhat shocked - Wesley was still confused over his lack of glasses. He had no idea why he wasn't wearing them any longer. He had no idea why no one else noticed this before. And he had no idea why he *wasn't* wearing them. He'd never before had the urge to wear contact lenses or the likes. So why?

If there was anything Wesley hated, it was a mystery. If there was anything he hated more, it was an unsolved mystery, especially if it involved himself. And this, along with just about everything else he had experienced made him even more suspicious. He knew better then to say that out loud to Cordelia though. The whole 'paranoid' lecture wasn't one he was waiting for.

"I mean I don't know," he muttered, perhaps a little more sharply then he intended. "I don't know," he repeated in a whisper, more to himself then anyone else. Thankfully Cordelia seemed to have moved on from his glasses to something else entirely. Which was odd, now that he thought about it. Cordelia could be like a terrier once she got hold of something.

Strange. Just the way his mind took him someplace else the moment he thought about last summer...or something? What was he thinking about again? Oh! Right! The Henderson file. That's why he was here.

"I don't suppose you've any tea," he asked hopefully, glancing down for a place to sit and not get the evil eye from Cordelia for messing up her furniture. "I mean," he added with more then a little amusement in his voice, "with your filing system we could be a while."

[welldressedseer]

Cordelia shook her head. "No, I don't. But do you know what I have?" She grinned just a little bit and pointed to the phone. Picking it up she pressed a button to connect to her very own secretary. Covering the phone she asked Wesley "What kind do you want?"

After he gave his response she repeated it and hung up the phone. "I'll consent that there are a few nice things about being here. No more week old coffe that we have to make ourselves!"

She began to flip through the files very slowly and looked over at him with a smirk. Pointedly she took too long on each page, and read each one in every report. "Excuse me? What was that about my system?" If he wanted to put down her system, he was going to be met with a very agonizing wait for her to find his file.

[_wes_pryce_]

"Earl gray," he muttered, giving her a raised eyebrow because she knew damn well what he liked. They'd been at each others throats more then enough about it in past. Okay, mostly to annoy Angel, since that was half the fun of their bickering matches. "No teabag!" he added, pointing a finger at her while she was on the phone. Also something she without a doubt knew. God knows he'd given her enough lectures about 'the horror of teabags'.

Pushing his hands in the pockets of his designer jeans - he never did really feel completely comfortable in them, but had an image to uphold working here - he sauntered around her office. It was, of course, very Cordelia like. Tasteful, expensive without being overly loud. While his office looked like an old library where a bomb just went off.

"Yes," he agreed, "not having to drink that coffee any longer is quite the plus point." Ah, and the arguments they had about the coffee were un-countable as well. He didn't think she could make coffee and vice versa.

He paused his trek around her office in front of her while he took in her deliberate slow quest for the wanted file. The corners of his mouth quirked at her words. "I said it once, and I'll say it again. Normal people use the alphabet to file things, not characteristics." Falling silent he looked at her sadly for a moment.

"Do you miss it?" he asked, "the old days?" He most certainly did.

[welldressedseer]

Cordelia had already remembered to specify about the teabag and she waved her hand at him while she told the person on the other end. Hanging up the phone she smiled. It was such a nice thing to have choices when she made her requests that she tended to order something different every day of the week.

"If I ever ended up somewhere else, I would be willing to skip a new purse or two and just buy the new coffee myself. Never again," she assured, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry you feel that way about my system. You might want to take a seat though, this could be a while." Her retort was quick and her smile a little wicked. Cordelia had no problems being an absolute thorn in Wesley's attempts to be efficient.

Cordelia began to to eye the files but she paused when his tone changed. Looking up, she was confronted with a sad expression she hadn't quite expected from Wesley just then. She laughed softly. "You'd think you were the psychic and not me. I was just staring at this picture before you came in..."

A sigh escaped her lips. "I do. I mean it's fantastic to have all these perks and the money to go shopping every weekend, don't get me wrong. But I feel like we've all begun to become disconnected with each other."

[_wes_pryce_]

Wesley snorted when he heard her say she was sorry. He knew damn well she was anything but sorry. The moments Cordelia Chase had actually been sorry about anything - let alone apologize for it - had been far and between.

"No you're not," he shot back as he took a seat on one of the expensive looking chair. Expensive but not very comfortable he couldn't help but think as he sank down in it.

He glanced over at Cordelia and narrowed his eyes at her when he noticed the smile. She wasn't fooling him. Strangely enough she'd never been able to fool him. Nor had he been completely successful in fooling her. In the past. He had the growing suspicion they were both getting far to good at it now.

He really did miss the good old days.

"What picture?" he asked, tilting his head to look at her and then over at her desk to see this offending picture. His head swiveled back when she admitted that she too, missed the old days.

"Yes," he agreed, nodding grimly. "The only time I see Angel is when he heaps more work on my desk, when I'm lucky to catch him at it, or at meetings. Haven't seen Gunn in days nor Fred. I don't like it," he concluded. "Did you...do you think we were-- we were wrong?" Did she ever wonder *why* they were here in the first place?

[welldressedseer]

Cordelia rested her elbows on the stack of papers and put her head in her hands. Large brown eyes searched Wesley's face as he spoke. She wanted to see some nostalgia, some feeling of uncertainty. When Wesley spoke, she was rewarded.

"I do... sometimes. But I wasn't here when everyone made the choice, so I have to trust in the decision you all made. I'll admit it though. I don't know how the heck you all wound up here. I've wanted to ask Angel but... well he's very distant these days it seems." That was something Cordelia had yet to deal with. She knew that they shared some level of romantic feelings, but her mind was so fuzzy. And since Angel hadn't said anything to her, Cordelia was afraid that the memory might just have been confused.

Shaking her head at the private thoughts she tried a weak smile. Surely Wesley wasn't fooled, but she owed him that token effort. Her friend seemed as uncertain and almost as sad as she did, and it was a little relieving.

"I thought maybe I was just missing something, because Fred, Gunn, they both seem so taken with everything here. Have you ever talked to them?" Cordelia wouldn't be surprised if hadn't though. It took years for her and Wesley to have such a repetoire. And even these days it took alot of banter before they were ready to be candid.

[_wes_pryce_]

Strangely enough Wesley had this idea that he’d not been around when the choice was made either. Not really. Or that he had a completely different reason for him to join the firm then the rest of them had. A shiver ran over his spine and a voice echoed in his mind. Something about fire and burning and it not being ever lasting . The voice was familiar, and yet he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Yes,” he murmured, latching onto what Cordelia was saying instead of dwelling on yet another mystery he couldn’t a hold of. “Angel had been very distant lately. Like I said…” he wove his hand around in a way which could very well mean it would rain fish on Friday.

He kept looking at Cordelia, taking in the way she held herself, the tone of her voice and that weak smile. She wasn’t fooling him in any way. She wasn’t as happy here as she led on. He wondered if Angel was perhaps blind not to see that. And what about Gunn and Fred? Wesley could only admit that he’d not seen either of them in a long time.

“I…seem to have been pre-occupied with my own work,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “And when I did try to find them, they’d be busy. In fact you’re the first one of our…little family,” and why did that word leave a bitter taste in his mouth?, “I’ve spoken to in quite a while. Haven’t even seen Lorne around? Did you see them? Or even speak to them?”

[welldressedseer]

Cordelia had wanted to see Angel more since her recovery, but it just hadn't played out that way. Angel was trying to do everything in his power to make his decision be the right one. It ended up with his pulling away from everyone around him though. Everyone seemed to be doing that lately.

"Everyone seems to have a job to do here. I think you've just found me because I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing." Admitting this was hard, but Cordelia had been needing to tell someone how she felt for weeks. "I can't help but feel that even though everyone is working insane hours, that we still would be stronger together than apart."

Cordelia actually had to think about Wesley's last few questions and place when she'd last seen each of their friends. "I hardly ever see Gunn. Fred I saw just yesterday. I took her out to clear her head and go shopping. And Lorne? Geez. You know it's been a while since I've seen hime or even been called." Realizing that other than her rare visits with Wesley, Fred was the only one of their friends she ever saw anymore.

Cordelia was beginning to sense a mystery herself and she wasn't liking it. A couple years ago not one of them would have imagined working apart instead of as a team. And working for Wolfram & Hart no less? She frowned a little to herself as she mulled over these thoughts quietly.

[_wes_pryce_]

That...didn't make much sense to Wesley, who was always far to literal in his way of thinking. He pondered pointing out to Cordelia that he'd found her because he was looking for the Henderson file, but somehow he had the distinct impression that wasn't what she meant.

He wasn't sure though, so wisely kept his mouth shut. Though that she had no idea what she was supposed to do here made him feel guilty. Not that he had any idea what he was doing here. Other then, apparently, lead a department that practically led itself.

"I think it's been weeks since I've actually talked to Gunn," Wesley murmured. He'd seen who's office was next to Wesley's rush past, but that was all he saw.

"Fred...I've not seen Fred in quite a while. She's usually down in her laboratory." While Wesley, he thought ruefully, was hauled up in his office.

"Lorne's been scares for weeks also and well, like I said. I only see Angel when he has work for me." And then the vampire looked at him strangely. In a way that made Wesley rather uneasy.

"I don't like this," I muttered, a frown forming on his face while he narrowed his eyes. He paused and looked over at Cordelia. "What do you do anyway?" he asked, waving his hand around her office “other then loosing my files with your preposterous filing system?” He was ashamed to admit that he had no bloody clue.

[welldressedseer]

Cordelia had simply meant that if she'd had something to do, she might not have been in the office either. She felt restless and as if she couldn't even find silly tasks to fill her time so she seemed busy. It was frustrating, feeling expendable. A shake of her head didn't clear the thoughts, but she ignored them in favor of listening to her friend.

"I don't know if I've actually seen Lorne since I came back." Honestly, she'd expected he would have wanted to see her. Usually the demon was a total sweetheart. "I'm not sure if he's on the premesis even," she admitted with a shrug. At least she'd seen Fred and Gunn, even if it was infrequent.

She didn't like being so far down on the information chain. Cordelia was used to being the first one to know what was going on, or snooping to be the second. Being so in the dark about her friends' day to day actions was almost too much mystery for her to deal with.

"I don't like it either."

It was a simple agreement, but Cordelia felt it needed to be articulated. Most things did in her mind, but that especially. She felt so much better when she finally had someone she could say those words to. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed.

"I'm supposed to coordinate the mystics. But... well they really don't need me to. And I don't really know anything outside of my visions about all that anyways. Mostly I just sit in the office and sometimes spend evil's money without guilt." She could probably spend a nun's money if given the chance, but it felt especially fulfilling to use the money she was given to buy clothes and other things that didn't benefit Wolfram & Hart at all.