An Unexpected Proposal
By: Hollywood Phoenix
A/N: Let's pretend that at the end of 'Waiting in the Wings', it was Xander, not Groo, who showed up at the Hyperion after leaving Anya at the alter. I know that I'm moving the Btvs and Angel timelines a bit but hey, this is AU! :) Assume that Connor's still safe and sound and Cordy is still a brunette with shoulder length hair.
I wrote the first half months ago, right after watching 'Waiting in the Wings.' I always wanted to know what would happen if Xander and Cordy ever had a heart-to-heart, so I figured, what-if?
~~*~~*~~ @ ~~*~~*~~
Chapter 1:
(c)May 3, 2002
I'm starting to believe that my life is cursed. There's just no other reason why everything keeps happening to me. I'm really trying to be positive about it all and the choices I make but it's getting to be too much.
The day started out so well too. I was happily getting adjusted to being pain-free from my visions, went shopping, and got to have a night out on the town with the gang. While it may be going to a ballet, which, I've never cheered to watch, I eagerly accepted the chance. Any night out strictly for relaxation is great but the occasion called for some dressing up too. Plus, necessary pre-ballet shopping trip made it gold. To top it off, I got to see all the guys look killer in tuxes.
Of course, even more importantly, I got to see their reactions when they saw me. Hey, I'm a young, attractive, wannabe diva. I have needs, like a few male puppy-dogs at my beck-and-call...ahem, I mean, some ardent admiration and a glamourous worry-free night off on the town.
I should have known a mondo-freaky-less night would be too much to ask for.
It wasn't because the performers and the theatre house was haunted. In fact, I can't care less since miserable ghosts and tragic villains are so run-of-the-mill normal. Truth is, I would welcome that over prophecies and visions any day. No, what totally threw me was what happened in the theatre's haunted dressing room.
Well, what did happen in that dressing room?
Hmmm, let me think. First time Angel and I were there, we were minding our own business snooping around for clues when all of a sudden, we were ready to make with the horny and tear each other's clothes off. It was really a strange sensation, being possessed by a spirit, let alone one of the unrequited lovers. I felt a gentle coolness pass over me as that ballerina took over my body, like a pleasant shiver. When I had been completely possessed, a light-headedness came over me, as if I could let go of my inhibitions and just exist. A weight was lifted off my shoulders as her thoughts, her feelings and her actions guided mine.
She recognized her true love before her, and easily embraced him. In front of me, I only saw Angel. When she moved, I moved. When she spoke words of love, I did. And when she kissed Angel, I did too. Gazing at him, stealing kisses in a closed room, I understood the longing and desire that she declared for her lover.
Oh. My. What did I do?
How did I let such a thing happen? Yeah, so I was taken over almost entirely by a lonely spirit, but Angel is my boss, my best friend. I shouldn't be saying those things she said or feeling those emotions for him. And I shouldn't have suggested going back into that room.
So sue me. He practically spelled out how disgusted he was with the whole situation and that was like pouring salt on an open wound. It wasn't as if I was anxious to go back and relive it all so that he could keep expressing that disgust. However, it wasn't as if he had any good ideas forthcoming, right? Letting the spirits re-possess our bodies may have been my brilliant solution to solving "the case" but it was the only one that made sense. At least in my mind.
Okay, my head was screaming at me for mentioning the idea while some other part was thinking about what Angel was covering with his jacket. Despite his indications that he was revolted by the idea of us, I mean them, being together, he was definitely responding. Then again, he is male, if not quite a man anymore. And last time I checked, I am, to take a page from Gunn, a damn fine woman.
Maybe in some twisted way, I was a little curious to see what would happen next. And boy, did I ever find out when we returned to the dressing room. Or should I say, man?
What's wrong with me?
Oh, I know. It's been a while since I've been involved with anyone and I guess I would jump at the chance for any making out, even if it's unreal and fleeting. At least it's with a hottie that I'm comfortable around.
No, that's not it. I'm the Queen of restraint and womanly patience.
Maybe it's because I'm used to being able to get any guy I want. He's the only guy that has ever brushed me off before and the only one that I can boast being best friends with. Only, despite our recent closeness and our obvious compatibility, he still doesn't want to be anything more than just friends. Not that I'm interested in anything more than that, no sirree. I'm obviously and sadly desperate, but I'm not that stupid. But maybe the fact that he showed even the slightest interest in me, even if it had to be done with magic, did wonders for the ego. The whole practically kicking and screaming on his part? Not so good for the ego. It's no wonder I let it go as far as it did.
So now we're back on sane ghost-free ground and he's blabbing about being friends with me, stuttering as Xander used to when I thought my greatest purpose in life was to be a cheerleader. I know he's trying to get through a "let's be friends" speech, even if I've never been sensitive enough to dole it out before, much less been 10 yards from being on the receiving end. I never would have considered that I would be hearing it, much less getting it from him. And it's so unnecessary.
If I wasn't absolutely stupefied by tonight, I would be laughing out loud at Angel finding it necessary enough to clear the air between us to come out of his uncommunicative broody shell. Only, like I said, each time Angel expresses his disgust at the idea of being attracted to me, I feel like salt has been pouring on this open wound. This speech is just making the pain of the wound grow larger, festering in its persistence.
As Angel continues to carefully emphasize our growing friendship, I look over his shoulder and get the last shock of the night.
"Grew?" I blurt out, repeating Angel's last word. He looks startled, like he didn't expect me to say anything throughout his grand brush-off. He stutters again, as if he has no idea how to continue, while I stare at the dark haired man standing behind him. Suddenly, I'm running towards him.
"Xander?" I cry out happily, glad to have the excuse to rudely push past Angel and end his painful monologue. I throw my arms around him, so grateful that I have something new to focus on.
Xander hugs me back, and when his hands drop to my waist, he pulls away slightly and looks into my eyes. "Cordelia," he begins seriously, "There's something I need to ask you."
By: Hollywood Phoenix
A/N: Let's pretend that at the end of 'Waiting in the Wings', it was Xander, not Groo, who showed up at the Hyperion after leaving Anya at the alter. I know that I'm moving the Btvs and Angel timelines a bit but hey, this is AU! :) Assume that Connor's still safe and sound and Cordy is still a brunette with shoulder length hair.
I wrote the first half months ago, right after watching 'Waiting in the Wings.' I always wanted to know what would happen if Xander and Cordy ever had a heart-to-heart, so I figured, what-if?
~~*~~*~~ @ ~~*~~*~~
Chapter 1:
(c)May 3, 2002
I'm starting to believe that my life is cursed. There's just no other reason why everything keeps happening to me. I'm really trying to be positive about it all and the choices I make but it's getting to be too much.
The day started out so well too. I was happily getting adjusted to being pain-free from my visions, went shopping, and got to have a night out on the town with the gang. While it may be going to a ballet, which, I've never cheered to watch, I eagerly accepted the chance. Any night out strictly for relaxation is great but the occasion called for some dressing up too. Plus, necessary pre-ballet shopping trip made it gold. To top it off, I got to see all the guys look killer in tuxes.
Of course, even more importantly, I got to see their reactions when they saw me. Hey, I'm a young, attractive, wannabe diva. I have needs, like a few male puppy-dogs at my beck-and-call...ahem, I mean, some ardent admiration and a glamourous worry-free night off on the town.
I should have known a mondo-freaky-less night would be too much to ask for.
It wasn't because the performers and the theatre house was haunted. In fact, I can't care less since miserable ghosts and tragic villains are so run-of-the-mill normal. Truth is, I would welcome that over prophecies and visions any day. No, what totally threw me was what happened in the theatre's haunted dressing room.
Well, what did happen in that dressing room?
Hmmm, let me think. First time Angel and I were there, we were minding our own business snooping around for clues when all of a sudden, we were ready to make with the horny and tear each other's clothes off. It was really a strange sensation, being possessed by a spirit, let alone one of the unrequited lovers. I felt a gentle coolness pass over me as that ballerina took over my body, like a pleasant shiver. When I had been completely possessed, a light-headedness came over me, as if I could let go of my inhibitions and just exist. A weight was lifted off my shoulders as her thoughts, her feelings and her actions guided mine.
She recognized her true love before her, and easily embraced him. In front of me, I only saw Angel. When she moved, I moved. When she spoke words of love, I did. And when she kissed Angel, I did too. Gazing at him, stealing kisses in a closed room, I understood the longing and desire that she declared for her lover.
Oh. My. What did I do?
How did I let such a thing happen? Yeah, so I was taken over almost entirely by a lonely spirit, but Angel is my boss, my best friend. I shouldn't be saying those things she said or feeling those emotions for him. And I shouldn't have suggested going back into that room.
So sue me. He practically spelled out how disgusted he was with the whole situation and that was like pouring salt on an open wound. It wasn't as if I was anxious to go back and relive it all so that he could keep expressing that disgust. However, it wasn't as if he had any good ideas forthcoming, right? Letting the spirits re-possess our bodies may have been my brilliant solution to solving "the case" but it was the only one that made sense. At least in my mind.
Okay, my head was screaming at me for mentioning the idea while some other part was thinking about what Angel was covering with his jacket. Despite his indications that he was revolted by the idea of us, I mean them, being together, he was definitely responding. Then again, he is male, if not quite a man anymore. And last time I checked, I am, to take a page from Gunn, a damn fine woman.
Maybe in some twisted way, I was a little curious to see what would happen next. And boy, did I ever find out when we returned to the dressing room. Or should I say, man?
What's wrong with me?
Oh, I know. It's been a while since I've been involved with anyone and I guess I would jump at the chance for any making out, even if it's unreal and fleeting. At least it's with a hottie that I'm comfortable around.
No, that's not it. I'm the Queen of restraint and womanly patience.
Maybe it's because I'm used to being able to get any guy I want. He's the only guy that has ever brushed me off before and the only one that I can boast being best friends with. Only, despite our recent closeness and our obvious compatibility, he still doesn't want to be anything more than just friends. Not that I'm interested in anything more than that, no sirree. I'm obviously and sadly desperate, but I'm not that stupid. But maybe the fact that he showed even the slightest interest in me, even if it had to be done with magic, did wonders for the ego. The whole practically kicking and screaming on his part? Not so good for the ego. It's no wonder I let it go as far as it did.
So now we're back on sane ghost-free ground and he's blabbing about being friends with me, stuttering as Xander used to when I thought my greatest purpose in life was to be a cheerleader. I know he's trying to get through a "let's be friends" speech, even if I've never been sensitive enough to dole it out before, much less been 10 yards from being on the receiving end. I never would have considered that I would be hearing it, much less getting it from him. And it's so unnecessary.
If I wasn't absolutely stupefied by tonight, I would be laughing out loud at Angel finding it necessary enough to clear the air between us to come out of his uncommunicative broody shell. Only, like I said, each time Angel expresses his disgust at the idea of being attracted to me, I feel like salt has been pouring on this open wound. This speech is just making the pain of the wound grow larger, festering in its persistence.
As Angel continues to carefully emphasize our growing friendship, I look over his shoulder and get the last shock of the night.
"Grew?" I blurt out, repeating Angel's last word. He looks startled, like he didn't expect me to say anything throughout his grand brush-off. He stutters again, as if he has no idea how to continue, while I stare at the dark haired man standing behind him. Suddenly, I'm running towards him.
"Xander?" I cry out happily, glad to have the excuse to rudely push past Angel and end his painful monologue. I throw my arms around him, so grateful that I have something new to focus on.
Xander hugs me back, and when his hands drop to my waist, he pulls away slightly and looks into my eyes. "Cordelia," he begins seriously, "There's something I need to ask you."