Chapter Eleven
Sunday, November 10, 2002 – the main lobby of the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles; evening:
Fred came in through the front doors of the hotel. Not entirely sure what to do, she wandered around the lobby, looking for something – even if she didn't know what. She figured she'd know it once she found it; it had been that kind of night so far, after all.
{ Wonder how I ended up in L.A., all the way from San Antonio? } she asked herself, strolling around the lobby. { Couldn'ta been just for the chance to score some free weed. I – ooh, what's that? }
She saw a shoe and hints of trouser sticking out from behind the counter, and set out to investigate. { Curiosity, thy name be Winifred Burkle. } Fred knew it may have killed the cat, but she was no feline, and so she went to check it out.
Instantly, Fred was confused. She simply had no idea what this green... thing was, or what to make of it. Him. Whatever.
{ Maybe he's part of some kind of secret government experiment? Levon's always saying how the government is taking homeless kids and experimenting on them, with their weird drugs and what-not. Oooh, wait, no – I bet this guy's an alien! I wonder if he knows anything about Area 51, and the Roswell UFO crash back in 1947? }
"Oh, my aching head. What in the name of Tarkna happened to me?" the alien complained, slowly rising to his feet. Then he blinked rapidly. "What... "
"I, uh, Klaatu barada nikto?" Fred said the first thing that popped into her head. "Oh, wait! You're not planning on doing anal probes on me or anything, are you?"
"Are you talking to me, cow?" the alien asked, looking confused.
"HEY! Not a cow here, mister!" Fred snapped, taking the perceived insult badly.
"Okayyyy... " the alien withdrew slightly, while surreptitiously checking out his surroundings. It was fairly obvious he could recognize nothing, and so decided to tread cautiously. "Where am I? And why am I speaking in the language of the slaves?"
"Slaves!?" Fred was instantly enraged. Alien or not, this... creature had definitely pissed her off!
The green thing obviously wasn't completely dumb; from the look on its face, it knew it had screwed up somehow, and it started backing away from her. "Who are you? And where am I?"
"You're on planet Earth, E.T.," Fred replied, scowling. "Where did you think you were?"
"Pylea."
"Never heard of that world, even though I guess that's not actually surprising," Fred shrugged, calming down as the alien's eyes went wide. "I'm Fred. What's your name?"
"Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok clan," her companion replied. Then it – he – looked around and asked, "What is this place? The main palace of the kingdom?"
"Pffft! This is a hotel, Dummy!" Fred said scornfully. "Boy, if you're the advance scout of an alien invasion or whatever? I know a lot of conspiracy theorists who are gonna be very disappointed!"
Krevlorneswath blinked again, looking unsure on what to say. Eventually he settled on, "What's a, a... hotel?"
"Are you serious? It's a – well, basically, it's a house providing lodging and food and stuff, in return for payment! You've never heard of a hotel before?" Fred demanded incredulously.
"Oh! You mean, this is an inn of some kind," Krevlorneswath replied, looking relieved as comprehension finally washed over him.
"Well, yeah, I guess you could call it that," Fred looked at him weirdly. "So, you know what an inn is, but not a hotel? Huh."
"Well, this place certainly doesn't look like any inn I've ever seen before, anywhere, in my entire life," Krevlorneswath confessed. "To whom does it belong?"
"My father."
Both she and Krevlorneswath turned around to see a male teen scowling at them, from just inside the main doors.
"I thought you knew that, you filthy demon?"
{ Demon? } Fred was very confused, and after she learned who the new arrival was – huh, Connor, one of her grand-uncles was named that – she started asking questions. Lots of questions.
Unfortunately, the answers from Connor were something that neither she nor Krevlorneswath could possibly believe, at least not at first...
Monday, November 11, 2002 – the apartment building of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Los Angeles; not long after midnight:
As he made his way up the stairs, Wesley came to the conclusion that something was really wrong. Maybe with himself, or with the world around him; but either way, he was at something of a loss on what to do about it.
The hunt for Angelus hadn't lasted all that long, the damned creature had gotten too much of a head start back at the hotel; and once it was apparent they were wasting their time trying to find the leech, he had parted company with that amateur vampire hunter – Gun, or whatever name he'd had. And it was roughly at that point that he had realized it was no longer 1988...
Unable to comprehend how he had ended up in the colonies nearly fifteen years into the future, Wesley had quickly found a mirror and determined that he was indeed no longer a teenager. And given how one of the first lessons drilled into him at the Academy was to learn how to separate truth from illusion, he had refused to enter into any form of denial; he had simply started searching his pockets, and quickly found the wallet with his current address in it. Thus, Wesley had come here looking for answers; and now, he carefully made his way towards Apartment B.
{ Hard to believe these are actually my lodgings, nowadays, } he thought to himself in distaste, looking around the corridor of the apartment building. { Perhaps I'm on some sort of undercover mission for the Council? It would definitely explain why a Wyndam-Pryce is living in a hovel like this, if nothing else. Then again, if that's the case – what on earth was I doing at that hotel... with a couple of ignorant women, that rank, arrogant amateur, and Angelus of all creatures? No, something isn't right here. I'll have to contact Father, and perhaps the Academy as well... assuming there's anyone left who actually remembers me, given it's been over a decade since I was Head Boy there! }
Wesley frowned, looking for the correct key to open the front door. When he finally opened up the front door, he walked in – and stopped dead at the sight of a beautiful brunette wearing nothing but a silk robe, a sheer teddy, a pair of stockings, and a smile...
"What kept you, lover?" she purred throatily, instantly making Wes wonder if this was the reason why he was living in this particular building nowadays.
In between trying to staunch the flow of drool that was threatening to start dripping down his chin, anyway.
Many hours later – Xander's apartment, Sunnydale; very early morning:
It was still dark outside of the bedroom window when Cordelia's eyes popped open. Yawning, she stretched, arching her back comfortably in the California King bed, before freezing in sudden alarm. { Whoa! Wait, this isn't my bed, where the hell – }
The memories quickly flooded back into her mind, fortunately. She remembered that she was in Xander's bed, in Xander's bedroom. In Sunnydale, thank God – not that weirdo freaky hotel she'd come to in last night.
OK, so not her bed, but that was all right. Well, kind of. Except for the whole 'lost my house and my parents and a big chunk of my life' thing, which wasn't all right, it was – it was way the hell to the far left of all right, not to mention –
Stifling the incipient emotional anxiety, Cordelia shoved it way back down inside and locked the mental cabinet doors on it. Because she was Cordelia Chase, damn it, and she didn't do panic attacks. Panic, maybe, when there was something real to panic about; but not the whole lamer emotional breakdown thing. No way.
That settled, she sat up, yawning again, and brushed her – too freakin' short, damn it – hair back from her eyes with her hands, before glancing at the bedside clock. Jeez. 5:57 am, for crying out loud. What the hell had woken her up at this hour, anyway?
Rummaging and clattering sounds came from outside the bedroom, and at the other end of the apartment. She could see a faint glow of light along the crack at the bottom of the door. And the smell of coffee... huh. { The Dorkhead is up? Already? Oh! That's right: last night, he said something about needing to go into work for a little while in the morning. Not long before Buffy started banging on the front door. Makes me wonder if – }
No. The less she thought about what had happened after the Self-Righteous One had showed up with her pet vampire in tow, the better.
Darn, she really had to pee. Might as well get up, at least for a little bit, and see what her Doofus was up to. And hrmm... she sniffed deeply. Definitely coffee, yup. Yum.
{ Oh-kay! }
Cordelia clapped her hands together briskly, and then blinked rather stupidly as the room lights came on, dazzling her eyes. Great. It so figured that the Lame Brain would have a freaking Clapper installed. He probably thought it was cool or something.
Grumbling under her breath, Cordelia threw the covers back and slid off the edge and out of the bed, stretching again before padding over and into the master bathroom. Several minutes later, relieved and somewhat refreshed with her face washed and hair brushed out, she came padding back, still barefoot, and headed out of the bedroom.
Xander was puttering around the kitchen, already showered and fully dressed – and in a suit, oh my God and hot damn, he looked absolutely yummy dressed like that – rummaging through a cupboard when she came up and plopped onto a stool at the breakfast bar.
"Hey! Morning, Cordy," he said, smiling at her before bending over to open another cabinet. "Aha!"
"Don't 'morning' me, Dork," Cordelia replied, trying to look cross with him. "It's still dark out, for Chrissakes. What're you doing up? This early, I mean?"
"Life in the construction biz, actually," Xander said, straightening up with a flat cast-iron griddle in one hand. "My day usually begins at eight – which beats the heck outta five AM, lemme tell ya. But like I said last night, I figure if I'm going to take off at noon today, I'd better get an early head start so no one can bitch."
"Makes sense," Cordelia replied, nodding.
"Coffee?"
"Oh, God yes... "
Snickering, Xander set the griddle down on top of a burner and stepped over to the – whoa, a Braun, how had she failed to notice it last night? – coffee maker and busied himself for a couple of minutes, with mugs and stuff. After a while, he turned and set one of them down on the counter in front of her, leaning against the counter with one of his own.
She took a sip, blinked, took a long sniff and a deeper sip, and looked up at him with a surprised expression. "Wow... "
"Did I get it right?" Xander asked, looking worried for a moment.
"Perfect!" Cordelia stared at him, nodding. "How did you-?"
"Uh... Espresso roast, heavy cream, two teaspoons of sugar and a dash of honey if it's not one of the expensive blends your parents used to buy, black if it is?" Xander said, shrugging. "Hey, I remembered. Doesn't seem like it was all that long ago, actually."
"Cool," she nodded happily, smiling broadly at him.
"Some breakfast, as long as you're up?"
"You can cook?" Cordelia blurted out, and then immediately went red in embarrassment at the incredulous tone in her voice.
To her surprise, Xander didn't take offense; he just rolled his eyes and chuckled, shrugging a bit. "Yeah. Bachelor, or at least semi-bachelor, self-defense thing. OK, well, cooking might be stretching it a bit; but I can make scrambled eggs with cheese and pan-fried toast."
"Wow. Cool," she said again, nodding. "Sounds great." Giving him a curious look, Cordelia arched her eyebrows in inquiry.
"Hey, growing up in my house?" Xander said, turning back to the stove. "I always had to fix my own meals, half the time. Remember my mom? Jessica 'ordering take-out is your best strategy' Harris?"
Laughing, Cordelia nodded emphatically. "Yeah, I remember. Your house was the only one that got frequent customer discounts from every take-out restaurant in town."
"Yup." Throwing a grin back over his shoulder at her, Xander began whipping some eggs together in a mixing bowl after throwing some buttered bread on the griddle. Shortly, the smell of crisping bread started to fill the kitchen area, and he reached out deftly to flip them over. "Anyway, I can read a cookbook, and I can grill stuff."
"Oh please. Every male in the world can grill stuff. It's like, built into your chromosomes or something," Cordelia said, snickering. "Your, uh... that Enya girl didn't cook?"
Xander used a spatula to remove the toast from the griddle, stacking the slices on two plates before starting to chop something at the cutting board. "Anya. And, well, yeah. She did. But... working couple. We always split stuff like that."
"Ah. Makes sense," she said, nodding again. "So, you're outta here soon?"
"Yep. By the way, Will's meeting up with us at one – "
"You talked to her? Already?" Again, Cordelia couldn't help the surprise in her voice.
"Nope, not personally. Buffy did, I found a text on my cell after I got up," Xander shrugged. "Willow said to say she's looking forward to seeing you again."
"Gee, I'm not," Cordy said snarkily, before waving off the half-formed protest. "Yeah, yeah. Been over three years, and I've stayed in contact with her better than I have with you. Doesn't change how I feel about her making a play for my guy, though. Not after you told me what happened between you two last night, anyway. Don't worry, I'll play nice – but I won't pretend to be all with the happy where she's concerned, either."
Xander simply nodded. "I had a look at your shoes earlier, by the way. Sorry, but that broken heel's a lost cause."
"Yeah, I kinda figured," she sighed. "Don't suppose you've got a spare set of footwear around here I can use, until I can replace them?"
"As a matter of fact... " Xander went to a nearby closet and pulled out a shoebox from one of the shelves. "Will these do?"
Cordelia squealed in delight. { Genuine Salvatore Ferragamo platform pumps! OK, the toes look a tiny bit wider than I'd prefer – but right now, who cares about that? } She tried them on and squealed happily again. "They're perfect! But how-?"
"Did I happen to have a pair exactly your size?" Xander shrugged. "Weirdest thing, actually. I was in Stockton yesterday, doin' a bit of shopping – when I saw these in one of the shoe stores at the Sherwood Mall. Still don't know what the heck came over me, but I went in and bought 'em; had the oddest feeling that I'd need them at some point. Which, hey, I guess I did."
Cordelia grabbed hold of her boyfriend (former, damn it!) and hugged him tight. "Thank you for letting me borrow them, Dorkhead – "
"Cordy, they're yours for as long as you want them," he offered generously, which made her hug him harder. Eventually, Xander disengaged and said, "You want me to take you shopping at the Sunnydale Mall to get you everything else you need, before we get down to business with regards to the amnesia thing?"
"Is the Pope Catholic?" Cordelia replied, giving her ex-boyfriend her best 'are you kidding me?' look.
A few hours later – the same place; morning:
Cordelia stared around at the empty apartment, completely bored. After Xander had left, leaving her his credit card in case of emergency (even though the grown-up version of the Dork hadn't specified what exactly constituted an emergency, these days), she'd quickly realized that there wasn't much for her to do except wait until he returned home at lunchtime.
There was almost literally nothing for her to do, damn it. Breakfast was already a fading memory, and all the reading material Xander had around here was of utterly no interest to her – sure, he was a guy and so the Doofus might care about the contents of Maxim and Playboy magazine, but she didn't – and turning on the idiot box at nearly nine o'clock in the morning? Ugh! Kiddie crap and breakfast shows, talking about stuff that was practically meaningless to her!
Like, what the hell was 9/11 and the Patriot Act even supposed to mean, anyway?
{ Grrf. I have so gotta do something, } Cordelia finally thought to herself in annoyance, looking out the window into the bright, cheerful-looking morning. { I can't just sit around here for the next three hours, just staring at four walls or whatever! Lemme see... }
She started exploring the apartment in detail, grinning every so often whenever she saw a trace of the seventeen-year-old boy she'd started falling in love with – his Tweety wristwatch, for example, his Babylon 5 plates and even the skateboard he had used during sophomore year. Before Buffy Summers had come to town, 'natch. Cordelia hesitated before entering the bedroom again, but then she figured, to hell with it – he had let her sleep in there last night, it wasn't forbidden territory or whatever.
She eventually found the shoebox in the closet, full of odds and ends – but one thing in particular caught her eye. The picture. The two of them were sitting together on that couch with Xander leaned back into the near corner, sprawled slightly with her lying against him. She smiled at seeing herself wearing that dark red spaghetti strap blouse that had driven her boyfriend wild when she'd modeled it for him, roughly a month ago –
{ No. No, damn it. Not a month ago! Nearly five goddamn years ago! }
Cordelia couldn't help thinking that all this was so unfair; it was like her life had been neatly cut apart and then stapled back together, missing way too much of the original material. Even with Xander's explanations last night, there was still so much she didn't know! She felt like a stranger in a strange land, to quote from that Heinlein novel they'd had to do an assignment on for English lit class. A stranger who was a craggy-looking twenty-two year old (or close enough for rock 'n roll), a stranger who lived in L.A. without becoming a movie star, a stranger who worked for Angel of all people – as a seer of some kind...
Worse yet, a stranger with crappily-dyed blond hair – who looked almost nothing like the girl in the photo on Xander's bed!
Well, at least she could do something about the last part while waiting for the Dorkface to come home. Cordelia carefully repacked the shoe box and put it back in Xander's closet, before hunting for the spare key to the apartment. She found it in the kitchen and, leaving a note on the counter just in case, she carefully locked the front door behind her before venturing out onto the streets of Sunnydale.
{ I can do this, } Cordelia told herself firmly, as she headed for Wilkins Boulevard by way of Montgomery Street – on foot, but armed with a cross in one pocket and a stake stuck in down the back of her pants, courtesy of her ex-boyfriend's weapons stash. Hopefully soon-to-be regained boyfriend. Whatever. { I am not some helpless damsel in distress, damn it! Sure, there's a big chunk of my memory missing – but I still remember what Sunnydale's like, at least enough to walk the daytime streets without some kind of seeing-eye dog. Now, let me see... }
Cordelia frowned, as she finally arrived in the town's central business district and tried to acquaint herself with all the changes over the past four or five years. Nodding, she headed east; but when she arrived at her destination, the disappointment hit her almost like a freight train.
{ God damn it, Antonio's has gone out of business? Oh, of course it has! The one decent hairdresser to be found in Sunnydale, I shoulda known he wouldn't last! I betcha some undead asshole turned him ages ago, in order for him to be available on demand for, like, the rest of eternity. Which majorly sucks for me – oh, now where do I go? Ye gods, don't tell me I have to go to somewhere like Supercuts to take care of the mess that's my hair? }
She walked away, miserable. Eventually, as she was passing the Sunnydale Securities Bank, she heard someone call her name.
"Cordelia?" The surprised exclamation came from a short distance away, up the street.
She turned toward the familiar-sounding voice, her eyebrows lifting. Older, yes, but still recognizable – and more importantly, standing in direct sunlight, which means not a vamp. The freaking undead version of Devon had been one mistake too many, in that regard. "Hey! Aura?"
"Oh, wow, it really is you!" Her oldest Cordette friend came up and grabbed her by the shoulders, air-kissing her to each side with enthusiasm. "Oh my God! What a surprise... "
Aura was wearing a long, flaring black skirt, and a sheer white blouse over a black lacy bra. In Cordy's view, she looked like a million bucks, even with the extra years' worth of age showing on the girl's face. The hair, the skin tone, the clothes – all faultless.
{ Lucky bitch obviously hasn't had her life turned upside down by an idiot dad, and the IRS! } "Surprise, yeah. It's, uh, been a while, hasn't it?" Cordy ad-libbed as best she could under the circumstances.
"Been around six months since we last spoke on the phone, yup," Aura nodded. "OK, so what brings you back to this little slice of hell?" she then asked. "Spill, girl friend. I mean, you swore to me that you were never coming back here again, like ever – and yet, here you are. There's gotta be a story behind this, and I wanna hear it!"
Again, Cordelia hesitated. From the way Aura was acting, it was pretty obvious that their friendship had more or less withstood the test of time – but was it a good idea to confide in her about something like this? To tell Aura that she couldn't remember a damn thing of what had transpired between them, since the early May of 1998?
{ Screw it, } Cordelia silent swore. { It's my life, and I can make my own choices about who to tell what concerning it! } She then said, "You wanna know the truth? Fine – I have some sort of weird amnesia. I came back here from L.A. last night, because I thought I still lived here. Aura, believe it or not, I can't remember anything past May '98, just before the end of junior year!"
Her friend blinked. A lot. "You're shitting me," Aura said slowly, staring at her in surprise.
"Nope." Cordelia threw her hands up in the air. "No shit. Come on, Aura, look at me! These clothes? This hair? Is any of it even remotely me? I mean, I talked to Xander about everything last night – "
"Xander? Xander Harris? Your cheater ex?" Aura interrupted, her eyes wide. "Holy crap, you really aren't kidding! I thought you were never going to speak to him again, for as long as you lived!"
She sighed. "Yeah, kinda figured it out for myself that we weren't together anymore, even before he 'fessed up about it," Cordy nodded. "And just between us? I shoulda seen that 'fluke' with Willow coming a mile away! Deep down, she's never really forgiven me for that thing with her Barbie doll... "
"Oh, yeah, I'd almost forgotten about that!" Aura suddenly burst out into good-natured laughter. "That was kinda funny, I remember now – that big lamer Jesse helped your ex-boyfriend steal it, back when we were five. And as I recall, your mom got so pissed about it for some reason – "
"She was my mother, not my 'mom.' Step-mother, technically," Cordelia pointed out, as Aura's eyes went wide. "Daddy's second wife."
"OK, that's it. We need to sit down somewhere, get majorly caffeinated and seriously talk, girl," Aura said, before she grabbed Cordelia by the wrist and headed for the nearby Espresso Pump. "C'mon!"
Over the next few minutes, they talked over coffee and a couple of muffins. Cordelia confessed more or less everything to her high school friend, including the fact that she was currently staying with Xander in his apartment. Something which again made the other woman's eyes go wide with disbelief.
"Seriously?" Aura asked, gaping at her. "But I thought he was engaged to that Anya girl? The one who runs that magic shop located on Maple Court?"
"That fell through last year, or so he told me last night," Cordelia shrugged. "Left her at the altar kind of dealie."
"Wow," Aura said dubiously. "I mean, I've known for years that he's a cheater, but I never thought Xander was that kind of flight risk!"
"Uh, apparently there were some... extenuating circumstances, or at least there were in his version of events," Cordelia shrugged again. "Combination of a major case of cold feet, some very upsetting news, some guy from the bride's past showing up to kill her on the big day – I dunno, it all sounded real messy to me, and the Goof didn't go into details last night. Too much else for me to catch up on."
"I'll bet." Aura looked thoughtful. "So, the amnesia thing? If you want, I can recommend a very good doctor – "
Cordy opened her mouth to say thanks but no thanks, not wanting to explain how this mess was almost certainly magical in nature, before Aura continued on, "And if that doesn't work, I also know a guy who knows how to do magic. The real stuff, not what you see in the movies and TV."
"Magic?!" Cordelia yelped.
"Well, sure. I mean, after my eyes were opened to everything during Graduation, I found it impossible to live in denial anymore. Besides, you and I talked a lot on the phone over the years, girl friend. And after you let some interesting facts slip, I did some checking into this Angel guy you work for. Mm-mm, with that face and body, it's a crying shame how he's a vampire... "
"Oh, God – you know everything nowadays, don't you? And here I was thinking I'd have to lie to you like I do – did – with all my friends, so you wouldn't think I was crazy or something!" Cordelia huffed, gently slapping her friend on the arm. "Jerkette!"
"Oh, puh-lease. I'm the one who should be saying that to you!" Aura said, trying and failing to maintain a straight face. "After all, we were supposed to be friends since we were six! And yet you didn't say anything back then, about what it really meant to live in Sunnydale? How we're walking Happy Meals to all the monsters in this town?"
Cordelia shrugged. "Sorry. Seriously," she said, before rolling her eyes. "But it's – no, it was some huge secret thing with Buffy and her little gang of social rejects. No telling anyone, yadda yadda yadda. And hey – I can remember like it was only yesterday how you and the rest of my girls constantly stuck your heads in the sand and rationalized whatever you could, and forgot everything else that you couldn't. Because for me, it was only yesterday!"
Aura shrugged, deciding to give her that one. "So, you done with that cappuccino? Because far as I'm concerned, it's definitely time for us to hit the hair and beauty salon. Antonio is so gonna freak when he sees you again, swear to God... "
"Get out! He's still alive?!" Cordelia gasped in astonished joy. "I thought for sure that that guy had ended up the victim of a so-called PCP gang attack, or he'd been mauled to death by some demon, or whatever!"
"Nope, no way," Aura grinned. "And FYI, I think it was losing his favorite customer that made him sell out and go corporate. C'mon!"
They quickly made their way to the Beautiful You Beauty and Hair Salon, not far away on South McElhaney Avenue. Antonio actually wept when Cordelia entered the establishment, much to Aura's amusement, as the hair stylist immediately abandoned his current customer – who squawked, but not too much, as one of Antonio's assistants took over the master's prior operation at once. Scolding her almost the entire time, the Italian then directed Cordelia to sit down, lie back and let him get to work.
Oh, and if she ever came in here looking like this again, he was going to feed her to a school of piranhas...
Roughly two hours later, both of them exited the salon, feeling much better – despite the beating which the credit cards belonging to Aura and Xander had suffered. Cordelia in particular was ecstatic that the blond look was history, and that she was now back to her native chestnut-brown 'do. Her hair was still too damn short, even with the extensions Antonio had provided – but Xander's tongue was going to fall out of his head when he saw her for lunch soon, she felt certain of it...
"Damn, I've gotta go. Sorry, Cordelia, but I've got a meeting to get to, and it's one I can't afford to miss," Aura said apologetically. "I wish we could spend the rest of the day together to catch up, but... "
"No problem, Aura. Trust me, you've helped a lot more than you know," Cordelia told her, unleashing her best thousand watt Pepsodent commercial smile. "And we'll catch up again soon, I'm sure."
Aura shook her head regretfully. "No, I don't think so – see, I'm leaving Sunnydale tomorrow! The sales and marketing division of my company is sending me to South America, and from there to Borneo to look into expanding our operations internationally; the CEO's entered into some sort of agreement with Turner & Peterson Construction, and I'm the advance scout on the whole thing. I'm pretty sure it'll be at least a month before I'm back... "
"A month? And you're leaving tomorrow? Well, ratz," Cordelia complained. "There goes my evil plan to get you to help me figure out my entire life, from this point onwards!"
Aura laughed, doing the air-kiss thing again. "Good luck with that, girl friend. Oh, almost forgot! If you don't remember anything since junior year – you don't know about Harmony, do you?"
"Harmony? What about her?"
Aura sent her a sad look. "She's a vampire, nowadays."
"WHAT?!"
"Yeah, it happened at Graduation, or so I heard," Aura shrugged. "Someone killed her, and turned her into one of them. Just thought I should mention it, in case you run into her while you're in town."
"Well, thanks," Cordelia replied, looking stunned. { Wow. Harmony, a vampire? I bet she must be totally freaking about not having a reflection anymore! }
"You're welcome. Oh, and if you're thinking of getting Xander back, since you're still seventeen upstairs? Don't leave it too long before you go for it, or some other woman will probably reel him in first."
"As if! I'm still Cordelia Chase, Aura, and whatever else may have happened over the past four or five years – if I make up my mind to go after something, I get it, even if I have to claw the other woman's eyes out!"
Aura laughed again, grabbing her into a big hug, before saying goodbye – the mocha-skinned woman going one direction and the former Queen C another, Cordy heading back to Xander's apartment to meet him there in order for them to meet up and have lunch together.
And then, oh, then...
At long last, she was going to visit the Promised Land.
In other words, going shopping at the Sunnydale Mall, along with her favorite pack mule!
TBC…
A/N: WesGeorge, thank you for your review and kind words; and Faith's story will be continued soon, the same for all the other characters. And thank you to everyone else for reading and PM'ing and providing feedback for the story! As always, please keep it coming... it rennervates and inspires us, if you'll pardon the expression. :) Whether it's praise or a scathing criticism or anything in between, we want to hear it from you!
