Cordelia was feeling Mightily Accomplished and all Domestic-Goddess-y that morning. She'd woke up early and headed to the kitchen, an ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS plan in play
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"Y'know," said Gunn, "if I'd known you were going to be all happy, I wouldn't have risked my life goin' through that portal to go save you."
He was leaning in the doorway of the rec room. He was going to make a trip to the kitchen before heading to bed, but the sound of good ol' Nina Simone intrigued him enough to make a detour.
Gunn's smile fell somewhat, suddenly feeling very sympathetic for Faith. Of course, it did explain her having the long hair again. Then, he shrugged.
"I'm from about a...year? after that," he informed her, mentally counting dates. And then, figuring it would probably make her happy, as long as he failed to mention the asshole of a director, he said, "You'd gotten a national commercial that week." And food poisoning. "Before, you, uh, got sucked into a portal."
Portal, Schmortal. Cordelia was way more interested in hearing about the NATIONAL COMMERCIAL. "I got--ME?--I got a national commercial?! GET OUT!" Overwhelmed with glee, Cordelia flapped her hands about, jumping up in the air in her exuberance. "Oh. My. GOD. I'm AMAZING! National commerical, wow! That's like, a break. A BIG BREAK. Oh, I bet I'm gonna be HUGE." In her excitement, Cordelia threw her arms around Gunn, incredibly grateful for his appearance and, more importantly, his news. "Thank you!" she all but squealed in his ear. Releasing him, she bounced on her heels. "Don't tell me. AT&T? Some fast food chain? Oh! Oh! Coppertone?!"
Jo had only come into the compound to go to the bathroom, but the jukebox suddenly coming to life intrigued her. It was a little creepy, but a self-playing jukebox on a sunny, tropical island without vampires, demons or ghosts? That's a slice of creepy Jo could handle.
It wasn't just the jukebox, though. There was a girl dancing in the rec room, her eyes closed, looking completely blissed out. Quirking an eyebrow, Jo turned to go, thinking she should probably leave the girl to her music, but just as luck would have it, she tripped over a chair on her way out. The chair clattered to the floor and Jo swore.
"Yeah, it's practically possessed," Jo said, righting the chair. Oops, bad pun, but if she couldn't make light of the situation, and situations past, then she'd probably go crazy of the weird.
"Sorry," she added, turning back to the dancing girl - who was no longer dancing, because Jo couldn't manage to avoid a chair. "Didn't mean to interrupt your moment there."
"Practically, but not quite," Cordelia said with authority. "Shows no signs of demon-y badness, so I'd say you're not in a whole lot of danger." With a wink, she added, "Yet."
Behind her, the jukebox clicked, another disc sliding into place. A familiar song, something from Booker T and the MGs, began to play. "Oh, it was only a moment. No big." Cordelia waved a hand dismissively.
Dancing was one of those things that remained foreign to Samara.
So, while she realized it was probably rude to stare, she edged her way into the rec room, and perched gingerly on the couch. She was curious now, from the funny smell of the woman's cooking to how free she seemed at the moment.
When the song came to an end, Cordelia lowered her arms, grinning and giddy. Today the juke box was on her Good List, which was a very short list because most things about the island tended to be CRAPPY.
As she leaned over to pat the top of the juke box, Cordelia noticed a little girl watching her.
"I was dancing. It isn't often that THING--" She jerked a hand over her shoulder, indicating the juke box. "--is very nice, you know? Usually when I come in here it plays that song, 'Bitch'. Like I haven't heard THAT a million and a half times before." Cordelia rolled her eyes, completely nonplussed at cursing in front of a kid. "What are YOU doing?"
Sometimes, just SOMETIMES, when the island wasn't wearing itself out by giving Brodie comics that had been VANDALIZED AND DESECRATED BEYOND ALL FUCKING REASON, it decided to grant him something good. Like the hot chick dancing in the rec room right now. Sure, the music was shit, and could have been something better-- like maybe the Josie and the Pussycats theme-- but he'd take what he could get at this point.
Brodie leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest as held his Dixie cup between his teeth. For once, he was silent.
As the song came to an end, Cordelia opened her eyes, laughing a little. Today was SUCH a good day. She had managed to Become Domestic Goddess AND heard a totally fantastic song courtesy of the juke box. The only thing that could make the day better were to be if the island would bring Angel back. Oh, and possibly get rid of Spike.
Thinking she might take a look at the book shelf before she left (just in case it might give her something interesting), Cordelia sashayed toward it. She stopped a few paces before her destination, though. She could feel someone watching her. Slowly, she turned around to see just who it was.
"I thought you left," Cordelia said. "I haven't seen you in MONTHS. LOVE the shave, though. Makes you look a lot less, I dunno, like Wolverine's long lost brother."
"Woah, turn the volume down from eleven, buckaroo!" Cordelia held up a hand, waving it. O-kaaay. So this guy wasn't Banky then. Thank GOD and The PTB and whoever else was up there.
"Sorry, thought you were someone else. Who, by the way, was a big total DUMBASS. But I can see you aren't him. Congratlations, you're not a loser."
Wesley watched the show before his eyes with a good degree of bemusement. "I'd ask what the cake did to deserve such good treatment, but I fear I might be smacked for it," he noted.
What was it, honestly, with people's obsession with getting him to dance in this place? Did they have a compulsion to see a man who enjoyed being struck on the head? His eyes were wide, however, as he recognized that look on Cordelia's face and danced along, inserting several of his own moves in the mix. "I heard you on the radio," he offered. "It was a bit of a surprise."
Being on a tropical island, unfortunately, had not improved Wesley's dancing prowess. He kinda moved around like a chicked who'd had his head cut off and replaced with a big old lump of cabbage. Rotten cabbage. Still, Cordelia had to give him credit for his, uh, originality.
"Oh! I was! I'm in a show! It isn't like I'm the star or anything, but you know a lot of times the supporting players totally steal the show from the lead actors, so I'm totally fine with it! And, besides, it'll help me expand my acting horizons and my range and all that stuff. I mean, I'm already GREAT, but this is a brand new opportunity!"
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He was leaning in the doorway of the rec room. He was going to make a trip to the kitchen before heading to bed, but the sound of good ol' Nina Simone intrigued him enough to make a detour.
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"I'm from about a...year? after that," he informed her, mentally counting dates. And then, figuring it would probably make her happy, as long as he failed to mention the asshole of a director, he said, "You'd gotten a national commercial that week." And food poisoning. "Before, you, uh, got sucked into a portal."
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It wasn't just the jukebox, though. There was a girl dancing in the rec room, her eyes closed, looking completely blissed out. Quirking an eyebrow, Jo turned to go, thinking she should probably leave the girl to her music, but just as luck would have it, she tripped over a chair on her way out. The chair clattered to the floor and Jo swore.
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Eyes opened wide, she whirled toward the source of the disturbance. A girl she didn't recognize was there, seeming to be rather annoyed.
"Better watch that furniture," Cordelia advised, eyes sparkling bemusedly. "Tends to jump out and bite ya."
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"Sorry," she added, turning back to the dancing girl - who was no longer dancing, because Jo couldn't manage to avoid a chair. "Didn't mean to interrupt your moment there."
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Behind her, the jukebox clicked, another disc sliding into place. A familiar song, something from Booker T and the MGs, began to play. "Oh, it was only a moment. No big." Cordelia waved a hand dismissively.
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So, while she realized it was probably rude to stare, she edged her way into the rec room, and perched gingerly on the couch. She was curious now, from the funny smell of the woman's cooking to how free she seemed at the moment.
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As she leaned over to pat the top of the juke box, Cordelia noticed a little girl watching her.
"Hi there," Cordelia said brightly.
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She offered Cordelia a shy smile. "Hi. What are you doing?"
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Brodie leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest as held his Dixie cup between his teeth. For once, he was silent.
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Thinking she might take a look at the book shelf before she left (just in case it might give her something interesting), Cordelia sashayed toward it. She stopped a few paces before her destination, though. She could feel someone watching her. Slowly, she turned around to see just who it was.
"I thought you left," Cordelia said. "I haven't seen you in MONTHS. LOVE the shave, though. Makes you look a lot less, I dunno, like Wolverine's long lost brother."
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JESUS CHRIST, if this was yet another person who thought he was that Banky fucker, he was going to be pissed.
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"Sorry, thought you were someone else. Who, by the way, was a big total DUMBASS. But I can see you aren't him. Congratlations, you're not a loser."
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She studied him for a moment, swaying to the beat, and then decided that HE needed some exercise.
"C'mon, Wesley," she wheedled, then grabbed hold of his hand. Cordelia gave him a stern, don't-even-THINK-about-saying-NO look. "Dance!"
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"Oh! I was! I'm in a show! It isn't like I'm the star or anything, but you know a lot of times the supporting players totally steal the show from the lead actors, so I'm totally fine with it! And, besides, it'll help me expand my acting horizons and my range and all that stuff. I mean, I'm already GREAT, but this is a brand new opportunity!"
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