recognition
(I
had to keep this disclaimer. It's priceless.) If I owned them, Angel would be doing a lot more then just thinking at this time
of night. (evil cackle.) Joss owns them, no one ever believes me when I say I
picked them up at a yard sale. I'm a crazy person, I belong In an institution,
not in the Jail for Poor People Who Can Not Afford to Re-Pay There Debt To
Society And Any Other Wanker Who Sues There Asses Off. (Now that would make a
long sign.) I don't even own the
plot- every single B/A writer in the history of man l had used this plot- Angel
thinks of Buffy, Angel whines about Buffy, Angel feels so pathetically sorry for
himself, Buffy shoes up and they live happily ever after. The End. But now I
told you the whole story. Egads.
"You're
reading your stupid books again," Cordelia demanded. "Why can't you go
out, and have fun, like normal people?"
I
roll my eyes at her. "I'm not a normal person, Cordelia. "
"Right.
You're a mopey old vampire. Ok, so you're a nighttime type person. Or
non-person. Or something. And yea, you screwed up a bunch of times, but that
doesn't mean you can't go out for a beer with us sometimes" she glared at
me. "Besides. Want you out of my
apartment, I'm having guests."
Since
the office blew up last June, I've had to live at Cordelia's. Wesley's
house wasn't big enough for the two of us, and Cordelia felt like she owed me,
since I let her stay at my place. The arrangement is- agitating. At least I
don't try to scrape away her linoleum. Not that she has linoleum in her
apartment.
"Fine
then. I'll walk, and you can have your… party." I was almost hurt she
didn't invite me to it, even though I would have hated every minute of it.
Instead I grabbed my coat off the coat rack- I have to put mine there, because
she says she likes her place neat, while hers in rolled up in a ball in the
corner of the kitchen – and step out of the door, leaving her to flurry about
her party business. I've been living here two months, and that girl must have
held about twenty parties.
Cordelia's
doing alright, though. Though it took the longest time, she realized that maybe
acting wasn't the right path for her, and after several failed attempts –
not to mention suffering during practices on my part – she realized maybe
singing wasn't her path, either. Faith told Wesley there were five types of
torture. Blunt, sharp, hot, cold, and loud. She missed Cordelia's singing. She
missed a couple things. She's got in to modeling. I have a feeling she won't
be quitting until she gets the fame she's so sure of, but she hasn't got too
far yet. She modeled some jeans for Sears. She thinks it's funny, since
she'd never be caught dead wearing anything from there at any other time. But
if she does make it big, I don't know what I'm going to do for a secretary.
Maybe she wasn't a great one, but Wesley still hasn't given up his 'rouge
demon hunter' title, and asking him to be secretary would be a huge blow to
his pride.
Cordelia
fights with him almost as much as she used to fight with Doyle. Her and Doyle
could have made it, if he hadn't of been such an impulsive idiot. I wonder
what happens to half demons when they die? Doyle never hurt anyone but himself
and he had to have had a soul. Does hat mean he made it to heaven? Or do all
Demons go to hell. I don't think anything will happen between Cordelia and
Wesley, though. I seem to remember them dancing at the prom last year, although
I did have other things on my mind at the time. I don't think it worked then
and I don't think it'll work now. Although, some thing might never work, no
matter how much you want them too.
The
night is colder then I remember it being last night. I don't go out, a lot
lately. We closed up office until we can find an place, which so far is
unsuccessful. It's almost like something's missing, now. But, for me, there
was always something missing about LA.
I've
been avoiding the topic since I moved here – her. She's missing. Even when
she did come down, to get Faith, it was like she wasn't here. Cordelia said
people change. Buffy didn't even look like the same person anymore. She looked- tired. When I went down, and saw her with Riley, she was
happy. She at least seemed really happy to be with him, to be in the life she
has now. But she looked dead tired- dark circles under her eyes, sort of bent
over- she looks like she's starving herself. She's always eaten like a bird
and got exercise, but she doesn't look healthy. I feel like a stalker thinking
this –maybe I should run down there and force-feed her a glass of milk – but
it's true. Even when she smiles, it looks genuine, but not hers. She's not the same person I fell in love with. I still love
her, and she's still beautiful. She was always just a little nieve, but now
she's acting immature. She was always reckless and upfront, but she's just
rude now. Yes, I hurt her. And I die every day because of it, but she's not
the only one hurting here. Just because I'm more then twelve times her age
doesn't mean that I'm invulnerable. And 'm not only human, but that
doesn't make me stronger.
I
walk down the alley next to the apartment, so slowly it's amazing I'm moving
at all. Nut I have no where I need to be, anyway. There are to many things
rushing through my head to quickly to focus on where I'm going.
Not
only human. And now, according to what Wesley decrypted, I'm going to be human
again. At first, that seemed like a wonderful thing. I'm going to be human. My
second thought, of course, was, I'm going to be with Buffy. It's going to
work. Bur how long will it take for me to redeem myself? A year? Five years?
Twenty years? A century? By the
time it does come, Buffy could be dead or worse. She could have changed so much
when I see her I don't recognize her, and she won't see me because of this
life she's building up around herself like a wall. Maybe I'll be alive but
I'll have lost the one thing that made living important.
The
wind is picking up. Not to far in the distance, now, I can here the music start
at Cordelia's. Maybe I'll live just in time for her to die… or maybe Both
of us will have to much pride to admit we were wrong to turn each other away.
Maybe…
My
thoughts are interrupted by something scurrying around not far ahead of me. I
stop, and I can here footsteps heading in my direction, just around a corner, on
one of the main streets. The garbage that seems to populate LA is too much, and
I can't smell whether the person, or a demon, or anyone that I know. Another problem with LA- the pollution. Some one a Cordelia's turned up
the music. Both air and noise pollution.
They're
coming closer. There's a feminine muttering, but that still doesn't rule out
vampire. I walk up to the edge of a brown tin wall and wait for them to
approach. Closer now… as the foot
steps and a bowed head turn the corner I step out in front of them, not noticing
who they are.
"God,
I can't read Cordy's writing…"
Buffy. She's standing right there in front of me, looking up at me with wide eyes. And she's exactly how I remember her.