Who I Am, What I'll Become Fic 13: The Trick is to Keep Breathing (1/1)
Title: The Trick is to Keep Breathing (1/1): Story 13 in the "Who I Am, What I'll Become" Series
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Cordelia, Wesley, Angel, Kate, Gunn, Oz, Xander, Willow, Spike and Buffy all belong to Joss Whedon. Clayton, Trudi, Crystal, Brian and others that you don't recognize are mine. The song used in this fic is, "The Trick is to Keep Breathing" by Garbage, which is on their album, Version 2.0.
Rating: PG-13 for language and content.
Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" for Angel; the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode, "Lover's Walk," and the first 12 stories in this series.
Timeline: Since stories 11 and 12 in this series run concurrently, this story is set 3 days later.
Summary: When an unexpected even occurs, Cordelia does some reflecting and is forced to make some decisions about her life.
Distribution: If you have previous permission to archive the series, you may take it without asking. Anyone else, please just let me the link.
Category: Story
Subcategories: Angst/friendship/suspense.
Feedback: Will get you the next story sooner.
Dedication: For Katt. Sorry I made you wait! :)
The Trick is to Keep Breathing (1/1)
It had been three days.
Three days since she'd found out there was a serial killer out there somewhere waiting for her. Three days since she'd had any sleep. Three days since she'd left her apartment.
Cordelia was sure she was going to end up permanently committed to the psychiatric ward in some hospital. Or possibly rushed to the e.r. due to the ulcer she was definitely working on.
She wondered if Angel even knew she hadn't been at work.
Not likely.
She hadn't had a vision in a long time. She wasn't sure what to make of that. Maybe the PTB decided that since she had so many other things to worry about, they wouldn't add a severe migraine to the list. Or maybe they knew how weird Angel had been lately and they didn't want her to end up dead when she had to take his place in saving lives.
At any rate, she hadn't had one in quite awhile. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was starting to get worried. She hadn't mentioned it to Wesley, though. He and Kate Lockley had enough on their hands trying to find this serial killer. He stopped by twice a day, though; he'd stop of a morning to check on her, and in the evening he brought dinner.
He was worried about her, that much was obvious by the look in his eyes and the careful way he would study her when he thought she didn't notice.
Oz and Gunn were worried, too. They'd been taking turns babysitting her. Oz stayed in the guestroom each night, and was generally there during the morning hours. Then Gunn would come over so Oz could get out of the apartment for awhile.
That must be nice, she thought.
Her apartment had been turned into a jail cell and she was under house arrest.
Her only real relief from all the tension had been the few times she'd talked to Clayton on the phone. At Wesley's insistence, she'd only told him that she'd been mugged, and her hand had been injured. She wasn't sure why he insisted on that, but she wasn't thrilled with lying to her boyfriend, and she'd made sure Wesley knew that.
Clayton had been horrified, but incredibly sweet. He'd sent her a dozen red roses, a beautiful pair of earrings, and a card that had arrived only hours after she'd told him. Of course, he hadn't been able to visit because he'd been tied up with photo shots and meetings with fashion editors.
But, Trudi had called that morning and dropped a few hints about a party Clayton would be attending later that evening and suggested she show up and surprise him. And Cordelia was determined to go one way or another.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wesley carefully balanced two pizza boxes on his left hand and knocked on the door with his right one. It swung open, courtesy of Phantom Dennis, whom he mumbled a thank you to as the door swung shut again. "Cordelia? Oz?"
Cordelia emerged from her bedroom a moment later, and he was taken aback by the bright smile on her face. "Wesley! I'm so glad you're here!" She hugged him and he made sure not to drop the pizzas.
"Cordelia. Where's Oz?"
"In the shower. How was your day? Here, let me get those." She took the pizzas from him and headed for the kitchen.
He stared after her for a second, then quickly followed. He watched as she rummaged around in the cabinets and took out three glasses and three plates.
"Do you want some tea? I made some just for you." Cordelia smiled at him again.
Wesley looked at her, feeling a bit suspicious. "Cordelia, what do you want?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you want something. I can tell."
"Can't I just be glad to see one of my most favorite people in the world?" Cordelia asked innocently.
He raised an eyebrow. "Now I *know* you want something."
She sighed. "Okay, okay. You're right."
"They're not having a sale at Neiman's again, are they?" Wesley asked, praying her answer was no. The last time she'd talked him into going shoe-shopping, they'd been there for five hours. How could anyone possibly need so many shoes?
"Well, yes, actually, but that's not what I want," she informed him.
He waited.
"There's this party. Clayton's going to be there."
"I don't think--"
"Wesley, please? I haven't seen him for three days. I haven't even left this apartment for three days." Her eyes pleaded with him.
Wesley had a bad feeling about it. He had done a background check on Clayton and it had been okay, but they didn't know the guy all that well. He didn't really think Clayton was the one he and Kate were looking for, but there was no way to be certain. And even if he wasn't the killer that didn't mean that Cordelia was safe. "I just don't think that it's wise for you to be out when this killer is still on the loose. What if he comes after you again?"
"Come on, Wesley. He's not going to come after me in a big crowd," she reasoned. "And besides, if you're that worried about it, you could come with me."
"Cordelia--"
"Please. Look, if I stay in this apartment much longer, I'm going to go nuts and then you'll have to come and visit me in my nice padded cell while I rock back and forth singing 'Kumbaya.'"
Wesley couldn't suppress a smile. "Where is this party to take place?"
"The Jaded Mirror."
He hesitated.
"I'll never ask you to go shoe-shopping with me again," she promised.
"As tempting as that may sound, I'd rather go spend the day with you at Neiman's than have you murdered."
Cordelia stared at him for a moment. "Well, if you go with me then I won't get murdered."
Wesley sighed. "All right. We'll go. On one condition. Oz must come with us. I don't want to take any chances."
Her face broke into a wide smile and she hugged him. "Thank you! Wesley, you're the best."
"I'm not asking Oz," he told her.
"That's okay. I'll talk him into it."
"I don't doubt that," Wesley murmured, shaking his head.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cordelia laced the pair of dangling pearl-drop earrings that Clayton had given her through her earlobes and then pawed through her jewelry box, searching for her grandmother's bracelet. She smiled slightly as she came across the silver heart necklace that Xander had gotten for her for Valentine's Day when they'd been going out. Then she concentrated on the task at hand. When she couldn't find the bracelet, she frowned. She always put that bracelet in with her good jewelry because it was her favorite.
Of course, with everything going on, maybe she'd put it in her casual jewelry box by mistake. She opened up the other box, the one that contained her beaded bracelets and necklaces, and the old mood ring she'd had since she was a kid that she used to love so much and had kept simply for its sentimental value.
The bracelet wasn't in there, either.
Her frown deepened. Where could she have put it?
She began opening her dresser drawers, searching through her clothes and hoping she'd come across it. When she didn't, she stood in the middle of her bedroom floor. "Dennis, have you seen my bracelet?"
When he didn't respond, she took that as a 'no.'
"What bracelet?" Wesley asked as he appeared in her doorway.
"My silver one. The one with the little heart charm? My mother gave it to me when I was six. It was my grandmother's." She went through her jewelry box again.
"When was the last time you saw it?"
Cordelia paused and thought back for a moment. "I remember putting it on the other night before I went to that party with Clayton." Realization dawned on her. "Oh, no!"
Wesley stepped inside her room as she sank down onto the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. "The night you were attacked?" he asked quietly.
Cordelia nodded, feeling horrible. "It must have come off when I was trying to get away from him or something," she said, fighting the urge to cry.
Wesley put his arms around her, hugging her more tightly than necessary, but she didn't comment.
Could this week *possibly* get any worse?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cordelia walked up to the entrance of the club with Wesley on one side of her and Oz on the other. She was wearing her knee-length black velvet dress and her hair was swept up into a clip on the top of her head. A few curly tendrils framed her face.
It would have felt a lot better to get out of her apartment for awhile had she not been so upset about losing her grandmother's bracelet. It had been one of the only family things she'd had passed down to her and she had treasured it dearly. Now it was gone, probably forever.
The bouncer at the front door had his arms crossed in front of his chest and an unfriendly expression on his face. She could sense Wesley's unease as they walked up to the club entrance. She smiled at the man. "Hi, Brian. Remember me?"
He grinned. "Of course I do. You're Cordelia, right?"
She nodded. "I'm here to surprise Clayton."
"Ah. Who are your friends?" he asked, glancing at Wesley and then at Oz.
"This is Wesley Pryce, and this is Oz. They're...my bodyguards," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes at the truth of the statement. "You know how Hollywood is."
"Of course. Well, go on in," Brian said, smiling at her.
"Thanks, Brian." She walked into the club, Wesley and Oz behind her. She turned to face them. "You're not going to follow me around all night, right? Or embarrass me in front of Clayton?" she asked, talking more to Wesley than Oz.
"No," Wesley promised with a sigh. "But if you're going to go outside, find one of us, okay?"
"Cross my heart," she swore. She turned and eased her way into the crowd. She didn't recognize anyone so far, which considering how the other night turned out, was a good thing. She just wanted to find Clayton and feel his arms wrapped around her, and hear him telling her everything was okay. The way Angel used to.
She paused mid-step. Angel? Anger rose up within her and she forced it back down. Angel was no longer a part of her life. Not really, anyway.
She felt someone watching her and she turned around to glare at Wesley, but was surprised to find that he wasn't there. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as a shudder passed through her body. Wesley might not be watching her, but she still had a feeling that *someone* was.
Is it him? she wondered. Is he here somewhere watching me? Waiting for a chance to get me alone?
Cordelia looked around the room, feeling dizzy and a bit disoriented. She should have tried to get a couple of hours of sleep while Gunn was watching television that afternoon. She felt much safer in the daytime than she did after the sun went down.
She looked around, trying to see if anyone was staring at her, but didn't see anyone that appeared to be observing her. She repressed the creeped-out feeling and pushed her way further into the crowd, searching for her boyfriend.
Cordelia heard his familiar laughter and continued to push through the mass number of people huddled around him. She plastered a big smile on her face and then stopped in her tracks when she saw him. He was standing with his back to her, his arm around the blond model she knew instinctively was Crystal Weaver.
She watched as he turned his head and kissed her on the lips, a long, lingering kiss that went way past anything someone would classify as being "friendly."
She covered her mouth with one hand and backed away quickly before anyone noticed her. She pushed her way blindly through the crowd, not knowing exactly where she was going, but knowing she had to get away immediately. She ran directly into someone. "I'm sorry," she muttered.
"Cordelia?"
Cordelia looked up to see that she had run into Wesley. "I'm ready to leave."
"Why? What happened?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.
"Nothing. Nothing happened. Clayton's not here. Can we go?" she asked urgently, glancing over her shoulder.
"Yes, of course. We have to find Oz."
She looked around quickly, spotted him standing by himself in one corner, and waved him over.
"What's up?" he asked, glancing at her and then at Wesley.
"We're leaving," Cordelia informed him. Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and barreled towards the door. She was the first one to Oz's van.
"Cordelia, are you all right?" Wesley asked worriedly as they waited for Oz to unlock the doors.
"Yes, I'm fine," she answered. "I just want to go home."
He frowned and opened the door once it was unlocked. She climbed inside and stared out the passenger side window and didn't move at all until they pulled up in front of her apartment building.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She's not the kind of girl
Who likes to tell the world
About the way she feels about herself
Cordelia stared at a photograph that had been taken her senior year. It was of her and Xander before they'd broken up their senior year. He was standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and they were smiling at each other. Willow had taken the picture while they were in the park one Saturday afternoon. She had been so happy then. Life had seemed so perfect. She had thought she and Xander would be together forever. She had wanted that, no matter what anyone else thought.
Not long after that, she'd agreed to go on a double date with Willow and Oz, but things had gone horribly wrong. Xander and Willow ended up missing. She had been so scared that something had happened to him. Sure, she'd been scared before, but there was a difference between being scared for yourself and being scared for someone you loved. And when she and Oz had found them locked in that old warehouse, they'd been kissing.
Her mind flashed back to Clayton kissing Crystal. Then back to Xander and Willow.
She stared down at the photo.
She takes a little time
In making up her mind
She doesn't want to fight
Against the tide
Why did this keep happening to her? Whenever she really cared for someone, they didn't return the feelings but instead of telling her that they lied. Why? What had made Xander cheat on her? Had she really been that awful of a person? Was she still?
Cordelia looked into the mirror and stared at her reflection.
Lately I'm not the only one
I say never trust anyone
Always the one who has to drag her down
Maybe you'll get what you want
This time around
Everyone she loved or cared for left her.
Her parents had left her in Sunnydale when they fled town to avoid arrest, and they rarely kept in touch.
Xander had cheated on her with Willow. Granted, they had finally settled things between them and she was glad about that, but that didn't change what happened. Her other "friends" in Sunnydale rarely kept in touch with her.
Doyle. Doyle had sacrificed his life despite how he felt about her. She had never gotten the chance to see where that might have gone. Could they have been happy together? She would never know.
Then there had been Wilson Christopher last year when she'd gone out with him, and that, too, turned out to be a disaster.
Angel hadn't left, but he might as well have been gone. He may not have physically walked out on her, but the Angel she knew, her boss, her friend--her good friend, was no longer there.
And now Clayton.
The trick is to keep breathing
The trick is to keep breathing
Cordelia stood up and stared at her reflection in the mirror again. She hadn't changed clothes since arriving back home, even though it had been nearly two hours ago. She hadn't cried. She wouldn't cry. Not over him. Not over *either* of them. She suddenly knew what she had to do. Her eyes darkened and narrowed and she went to the phone, picked up the receiver and dialed a number.
"Manny's Taxi Service. How can I help you?"
"I'd like a taxi at 141 Emburyst Street as soon as possible please."
"Your number?"
"You won't need it. I'll be waiting out front."
"Okay. I'll send one right over."
Cordelia hung up the phone and glanced in the mirror one last time. Then she grabbed her coat as she tiptoed out of her bedroom, relieved to hear Oz's light snoring from the guestroom. She headed for the door.
She knows the human heart
And how to read the stars
Now everything's about to fall apart...
The End
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Cordelia, Wesley, Angel, Kate, Gunn, Oz, Xander, Willow, Spike and Buffy all belong to Joss Whedon. Clayton, Trudi, Crystal, Brian and others that you don't recognize are mine. The song used in this fic is, "The Trick is to Keep Breathing" by Garbage, which is on their album, Version 2.0.
Rating: PG-13 for language and content.
Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" for Angel; the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode, "Lover's Walk," and the first 12 stories in this series.
Timeline: Since stories 11 and 12 in this series run concurrently, this story is set 3 days later.
Summary: When an unexpected even occurs, Cordelia does some reflecting and is forced to make some decisions about her life.
Distribution: If you have previous permission to archive the series, you may take it without asking. Anyone else, please just let me the link.
Category: Story
Subcategories: Angst/friendship/suspense.
Feedback: Will get you the next story sooner.
Dedication: For Katt. Sorry I made you wait! :)
The Trick is to Keep Breathing (1/1)
It had been three days.
Three days since she'd found out there was a serial killer out there somewhere waiting for her. Three days since she'd had any sleep. Three days since she'd left her apartment.
Cordelia was sure she was going to end up permanently committed to the psychiatric ward in some hospital. Or possibly rushed to the e.r. due to the ulcer she was definitely working on.
She wondered if Angel even knew she hadn't been at work.
Not likely.
She hadn't had a vision in a long time. She wasn't sure what to make of that. Maybe the PTB decided that since she had so many other things to worry about, they wouldn't add a severe migraine to the list. Or maybe they knew how weird Angel had been lately and they didn't want her to end up dead when she had to take his place in saving lives.
At any rate, she hadn't had one in quite awhile. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was starting to get worried. She hadn't mentioned it to Wesley, though. He and Kate Lockley had enough on their hands trying to find this serial killer. He stopped by twice a day, though; he'd stop of a morning to check on her, and in the evening he brought dinner.
He was worried about her, that much was obvious by the look in his eyes and the careful way he would study her when he thought she didn't notice.
Oz and Gunn were worried, too. They'd been taking turns babysitting her. Oz stayed in the guestroom each night, and was generally there during the morning hours. Then Gunn would come over so Oz could get out of the apartment for awhile.
That must be nice, she thought.
Her apartment had been turned into a jail cell and she was under house arrest.
Her only real relief from all the tension had been the few times she'd talked to Clayton on the phone. At Wesley's insistence, she'd only told him that she'd been mugged, and her hand had been injured. She wasn't sure why he insisted on that, but she wasn't thrilled with lying to her boyfriend, and she'd made sure Wesley knew that.
Clayton had been horrified, but incredibly sweet. He'd sent her a dozen red roses, a beautiful pair of earrings, and a card that had arrived only hours after she'd told him. Of course, he hadn't been able to visit because he'd been tied up with photo shots and meetings with fashion editors.
But, Trudi had called that morning and dropped a few hints about a party Clayton would be attending later that evening and suggested she show up and surprise him. And Cordelia was determined to go one way or another.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wesley carefully balanced two pizza boxes on his left hand and knocked on the door with his right one. It swung open, courtesy of Phantom Dennis, whom he mumbled a thank you to as the door swung shut again. "Cordelia? Oz?"
Cordelia emerged from her bedroom a moment later, and he was taken aback by the bright smile on her face. "Wesley! I'm so glad you're here!" She hugged him and he made sure not to drop the pizzas.
"Cordelia. Where's Oz?"
"In the shower. How was your day? Here, let me get those." She took the pizzas from him and headed for the kitchen.
He stared after her for a second, then quickly followed. He watched as she rummaged around in the cabinets and took out three glasses and three plates.
"Do you want some tea? I made some just for you." Cordelia smiled at him again.
Wesley looked at her, feeling a bit suspicious. "Cordelia, what do you want?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you want something. I can tell."
"Can't I just be glad to see one of my most favorite people in the world?" Cordelia asked innocently.
He raised an eyebrow. "Now I *know* you want something."
She sighed. "Okay, okay. You're right."
"They're not having a sale at Neiman's again, are they?" Wesley asked, praying her answer was no. The last time she'd talked him into going shoe-shopping, they'd been there for five hours. How could anyone possibly need so many shoes?
"Well, yes, actually, but that's not what I want," she informed him.
He waited.
"There's this party. Clayton's going to be there."
"I don't think--"
"Wesley, please? I haven't seen him for three days. I haven't even left this apartment for three days." Her eyes pleaded with him.
Wesley had a bad feeling about it. He had done a background check on Clayton and it had been okay, but they didn't know the guy all that well. He didn't really think Clayton was the one he and Kate were looking for, but there was no way to be certain. And even if he wasn't the killer that didn't mean that Cordelia was safe. "I just don't think that it's wise for you to be out when this killer is still on the loose. What if he comes after you again?"
"Come on, Wesley. He's not going to come after me in a big crowd," she reasoned. "And besides, if you're that worried about it, you could come with me."
"Cordelia--"
"Please. Look, if I stay in this apartment much longer, I'm going to go nuts and then you'll have to come and visit me in my nice padded cell while I rock back and forth singing 'Kumbaya.'"
Wesley couldn't suppress a smile. "Where is this party to take place?"
"The Jaded Mirror."
He hesitated.
"I'll never ask you to go shoe-shopping with me again," she promised.
"As tempting as that may sound, I'd rather go spend the day with you at Neiman's than have you murdered."
Cordelia stared at him for a moment. "Well, if you go with me then I won't get murdered."
Wesley sighed. "All right. We'll go. On one condition. Oz must come with us. I don't want to take any chances."
Her face broke into a wide smile and she hugged him. "Thank you! Wesley, you're the best."
"I'm not asking Oz," he told her.
"That's okay. I'll talk him into it."
"I don't doubt that," Wesley murmured, shaking his head.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cordelia laced the pair of dangling pearl-drop earrings that Clayton had given her through her earlobes and then pawed through her jewelry box, searching for her grandmother's bracelet. She smiled slightly as she came across the silver heart necklace that Xander had gotten for her for Valentine's Day when they'd been going out. Then she concentrated on the task at hand. When she couldn't find the bracelet, she frowned. She always put that bracelet in with her good jewelry because it was her favorite.
Of course, with everything going on, maybe she'd put it in her casual jewelry box by mistake. She opened up the other box, the one that contained her beaded bracelets and necklaces, and the old mood ring she'd had since she was a kid that she used to love so much and had kept simply for its sentimental value.
The bracelet wasn't in there, either.
Her frown deepened. Where could she have put it?
She began opening her dresser drawers, searching through her clothes and hoping she'd come across it. When she didn't, she stood in the middle of her bedroom floor. "Dennis, have you seen my bracelet?"
When he didn't respond, she took that as a 'no.'
"What bracelet?" Wesley asked as he appeared in her doorway.
"My silver one. The one with the little heart charm? My mother gave it to me when I was six. It was my grandmother's." She went through her jewelry box again.
"When was the last time you saw it?"
Cordelia paused and thought back for a moment. "I remember putting it on the other night before I went to that party with Clayton." Realization dawned on her. "Oh, no!"
Wesley stepped inside her room as she sank down onto the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. "The night you were attacked?" he asked quietly.
Cordelia nodded, feeling horrible. "It must have come off when I was trying to get away from him or something," she said, fighting the urge to cry.
Wesley put his arms around her, hugging her more tightly than necessary, but she didn't comment.
Could this week *possibly* get any worse?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cordelia walked up to the entrance of the club with Wesley on one side of her and Oz on the other. She was wearing her knee-length black velvet dress and her hair was swept up into a clip on the top of her head. A few curly tendrils framed her face.
It would have felt a lot better to get out of her apartment for awhile had she not been so upset about losing her grandmother's bracelet. It had been one of the only family things she'd had passed down to her and she had treasured it dearly. Now it was gone, probably forever.
The bouncer at the front door had his arms crossed in front of his chest and an unfriendly expression on his face. She could sense Wesley's unease as they walked up to the club entrance. She smiled at the man. "Hi, Brian. Remember me?"
He grinned. "Of course I do. You're Cordelia, right?"
She nodded. "I'm here to surprise Clayton."
"Ah. Who are your friends?" he asked, glancing at Wesley and then at Oz.
"This is Wesley Pryce, and this is Oz. They're...my bodyguards," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes at the truth of the statement. "You know how Hollywood is."
"Of course. Well, go on in," Brian said, smiling at her.
"Thanks, Brian." She walked into the club, Wesley and Oz behind her. She turned to face them. "You're not going to follow me around all night, right? Or embarrass me in front of Clayton?" she asked, talking more to Wesley than Oz.
"No," Wesley promised with a sigh. "But if you're going to go outside, find one of us, okay?"
"Cross my heart," she swore. She turned and eased her way into the crowd. She didn't recognize anyone so far, which considering how the other night turned out, was a good thing. She just wanted to find Clayton and feel his arms wrapped around her, and hear him telling her everything was okay. The way Angel used to.
She paused mid-step. Angel? Anger rose up within her and she forced it back down. Angel was no longer a part of her life. Not really, anyway.
She felt someone watching her and she turned around to glare at Wesley, but was surprised to find that he wasn't there. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as a shudder passed through her body. Wesley might not be watching her, but she still had a feeling that *someone* was.
Is it him? she wondered. Is he here somewhere watching me? Waiting for a chance to get me alone?
Cordelia looked around the room, feeling dizzy and a bit disoriented. She should have tried to get a couple of hours of sleep while Gunn was watching television that afternoon. She felt much safer in the daytime than she did after the sun went down.
She looked around, trying to see if anyone was staring at her, but didn't see anyone that appeared to be observing her. She repressed the creeped-out feeling and pushed her way further into the crowd, searching for her boyfriend.
Cordelia heard his familiar laughter and continued to push through the mass number of people huddled around him. She plastered a big smile on her face and then stopped in her tracks when she saw him. He was standing with his back to her, his arm around the blond model she knew instinctively was Crystal Weaver.
She watched as he turned his head and kissed her on the lips, a long, lingering kiss that went way past anything someone would classify as being "friendly."
She covered her mouth with one hand and backed away quickly before anyone noticed her. She pushed her way blindly through the crowd, not knowing exactly where she was going, but knowing she had to get away immediately. She ran directly into someone. "I'm sorry," she muttered.
"Cordelia?"
Cordelia looked up to see that she had run into Wesley. "I'm ready to leave."
"Why? What happened?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.
"Nothing. Nothing happened. Clayton's not here. Can we go?" she asked urgently, glancing over her shoulder.
"Yes, of course. We have to find Oz."
She looked around quickly, spotted him standing by himself in one corner, and waved him over.
"What's up?" he asked, glancing at her and then at Wesley.
"We're leaving," Cordelia informed him. Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and barreled towards the door. She was the first one to Oz's van.
"Cordelia, are you all right?" Wesley asked worriedly as they waited for Oz to unlock the doors.
"Yes, I'm fine," she answered. "I just want to go home."
He frowned and opened the door once it was unlocked. She climbed inside and stared out the passenger side window and didn't move at all until they pulled up in front of her apartment building.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She's not the kind of girl
Who likes to tell the world
About the way she feels about herself
Cordelia stared at a photograph that had been taken her senior year. It was of her and Xander before they'd broken up their senior year. He was standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and they were smiling at each other. Willow had taken the picture while they were in the park one Saturday afternoon. She had been so happy then. Life had seemed so perfect. She had thought she and Xander would be together forever. She had wanted that, no matter what anyone else thought.
Not long after that, she'd agreed to go on a double date with Willow and Oz, but things had gone horribly wrong. Xander and Willow ended up missing. She had been so scared that something had happened to him. Sure, she'd been scared before, but there was a difference between being scared for yourself and being scared for someone you loved. And when she and Oz had found them locked in that old warehouse, they'd been kissing.
Her mind flashed back to Clayton kissing Crystal. Then back to Xander and Willow.
She stared down at the photo.
She takes a little time
In making up her mind
She doesn't want to fight
Against the tide
Why did this keep happening to her? Whenever she really cared for someone, they didn't return the feelings but instead of telling her that they lied. Why? What had made Xander cheat on her? Had she really been that awful of a person? Was she still?
Cordelia looked into the mirror and stared at her reflection.
Lately I'm not the only one
I say never trust anyone
Always the one who has to drag her down
Maybe you'll get what you want
This time around
Everyone she loved or cared for left her.
Her parents had left her in Sunnydale when they fled town to avoid arrest, and they rarely kept in touch.
Xander had cheated on her with Willow. Granted, they had finally settled things between them and she was glad about that, but that didn't change what happened. Her other "friends" in Sunnydale rarely kept in touch with her.
Doyle. Doyle had sacrificed his life despite how he felt about her. She had never gotten the chance to see where that might have gone. Could they have been happy together? She would never know.
Then there had been Wilson Christopher last year when she'd gone out with him, and that, too, turned out to be a disaster.
Angel hadn't left, but he might as well have been gone. He may not have physically walked out on her, but the Angel she knew, her boss, her friend--her good friend, was no longer there.
And now Clayton.
The trick is to keep breathing
The trick is to keep breathing
Cordelia stood up and stared at her reflection in the mirror again. She hadn't changed clothes since arriving back home, even though it had been nearly two hours ago. She hadn't cried. She wouldn't cry. Not over him. Not over *either* of them. She suddenly knew what she had to do. Her eyes darkened and narrowed and she went to the phone, picked up the receiver and dialed a number.
"Manny's Taxi Service. How can I help you?"
"I'd like a taxi at 141 Emburyst Street as soon as possible please."
"Your number?"
"You won't need it. I'll be waiting out front."
"Okay. I'll send one right over."
Cordelia hung up the phone and glanced in the mirror one last time. Then she grabbed her coat as she tiptoed out of her bedroom, relieved to hear Oz's light snoring from the guestroom. She headed for the door.
She knows the human heart
And how to read the stars
Now everything's about to fall apart...
The End