Title: Vale Mrs Summers
Author: Bellemaine Chercoeur
Email: bellemainec@yahoo.com
Fandom: Angel
Pairing: C/W
Summary: Cordelia hears about Joyce's death.
Disclaimer: Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Angel and the associated characters spring from the genius of Joss Whedon. He deserved needless credit and good karma. Warner Brothers and associated other people also own copyright, and no infringement I meant, intended or implied. No profit is being made, only fun.
Note: This was written before viewing The Body; I was writing having read a transcript of that episode. Therefore, this is not strictly canon with the show, and at times I think C and W are not quite in character. And does this not look ridiculous considering what is going on in Angel now???? Please let me know what you think.
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Vale Mrs Summers 1/1
By Bellemaine Chercoeur

"Cordelia, have you finished those invoices? I'll drop them in the post on my way..." Wesley's voice trailed off as he watched Cordelia's reaction to his words. She had jumped as he began speaking, and had been careful to keep her back to him. He watched as she straightened her shoulders, lifted her head sharply and he would swear that she had dashed the back of a hand across her cheeks. He waited a moment longer, and then softly asked, "Cordelia?"

She stood and turned to face him, a falsely brilliant smile plastered on her lips. A smile that could not hide the tears shining in her eyes, or the strands of her hair that clung to her damp cheeks. With a voice that was scratchy and hoarse she said, "Sorry Wesley, I didn't get to them today. I'll make sure I do them first thing tomorrow. See you!" She tried to escape from the office, but Wesley stopped her flight by simply stepping into her path and gripping her arms just above the elbows. "Cordelia, talk to me. What is wrong?"

Keeping her gaze fixed on his shirt collar, she tried to bluff her way out. "Nothing is wrong, Wesley, I just need to go home. Dennis and I are watching old movies tonight."

Wesley tightened his grip, and shook his head in denial at her words, even though he knew she would not see the gesture, with her gaze riveted on his collar. Keeping his tone soft and persuasive, he said, " Cordelia Chase, do not assume that I am totally blind because I wear glasses. You are obviously upset, and..." he paused, then his tone grew firmer as he continued, "you will tell me why you are crying. I could tell, you know."

Half expecting her to deny she was crying at all, Wesley was surprised when she actually lifted her hear to look at him. As he gazed at her, her eyes brimmed with tears and her lower lip began to tremble. He was never to know exactly what happened next, whether he moved to draw her into his embrace, or whether she threw herself into his arms. All he knew was that Cordelia was cradled in his arms, with her head on his shoulder as her body heaved with racking sobs. At a loss as to how to calm the tempest raging in her, Wesley fell back on childhood training. Lifting a hand to her shoulder, he gently patted three times and said, "There, there." When that seemed to have no effect, he gently stroked her hair and whispered, "hush."

For what seemed like hours, but was really only a few minutes, Cordelia wept in Wesley's arms, dampening his shirt whilst he held her close. He heard the sobs that tore her throat, saw the tears that flowed down her cheeks and felt her shoulders heave as she tried to breathe around the sobs. Feeling her begin to collapse, Wesley tightened his hold on her and they sank gently to the floor beside her chair. Wesley propped his back against the desk, and gathered her into his lap.

At some point, he had stopped murmuring "hush," and had moved onto "It will be alright."

Suddenly, Cordelia hit him on the chest with a clenched fist. Wesley grabbed at her fist as she tried to land another blow, and listened as he barely managed to choke out the words, "It won't be alright Wesley. It will never be alright again."

His concern now mixed with a growing unease, he placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face towards his. Injecting as much authority in his tone as he could, he demanded softly, "Cordelia, tell me what is wrong."

She shook her head, and he cupped her cheek with a hand. As fresh tears slid down her cheeks she watched him for a moment, and then buried her face in the curve of his neck. "Giles called. He needed to tell us that Buffy's Mom, that she, that she......" She stopped unable to go on.

Wesley felt his blood run cold and heard the hoarse disbelief in his own voice as he asked, "Cordelia, are you trying to say that Mrs Summers has died?"

He felt Cordelia nod slowly, and then lean against him, her sobs slowing. Unable to stop himself, the words, "Dear God," fell from his lips.

While Cordelia tried to regain some composure, they sat in silence, Wesley smoothing her hair and Cordelia clutching his shirt. At last, Cordelia found the strength to tell him what had happened, her voice heavy with tears. "Giles called. He said that Mrs Summers had complications from the tumour, that an aneurism had ruptured an artery and that she just died. Buffy found her on the couch, and she called the paramedics, but she was gone. And then she called Giles, and they had to go to the mor......." She trailed off, unable to get the word morgue past her lips.

Wesley stroked his thumb over her cheek and said softly, "It's ok, sweetheart. Does Angel know?"

She nodded. "He was standing beside my desk when I answered the phone, and he ripped it away from me when I wasn't answering him properly. I think I kept saying that it wasn't true, that Giles was lying. I'm not sure where Angel went, I think he said something to Giles, and then he left. He could be downstairs."

Wesley kept one arm around Cordelia, and reached for the phone with his free hand. Punching in the number for Giles's house, he waited as the phone rung out. Cordelia burrowed closer to him, finding some comfort in his warm shoulder. Finally giving up on the possibility of Giles answering his phone, he tried the Summers residence, not really expecting an answer. He was surprised when the call was picked up on the third ring.

"Hello? Who's calling?" The crisp British accent revealed Giles's identity, but the harried hoarseness of his voice was unfamiliar.

"Giles? It's Wesley Wyndham-Price here. Cordelia just told me what has happened. Is there anything we can do?"

Giles remained silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I'm not sure Wesley. Things are rather uncertain here at the moment, and I am not sure what the best course of action is."

Wesley nodded, momentarily forgetting that Giles could not see him. "I understand. Please pass on our condolences to Buffy, and please let her know that if there is anything at all we can do to help, she need only ask. How is she coping?"

Giles hesitated for a moment then said, "Barely. She is barely coping at this point. Thank you for the offer, though, we may need to call on your help sooner rather than later. We have a bit of a situation here at the moment, and I am not sure how things will fall into place." An awkward silence descended between them, a silence that Giles finally broke by asking, "What is Angel planning?"

Wesley paused, then said quietly, "I don't know, Giles. He is not here with us at the moment, and I only found out about...this...a few minutes ago. Cordelia told me what had happened. She thinks Angel is downstairs. Should I?" Wesley's voice trailed off, as he was not quite certain whether he should offer to go after Angel or not.

Again silence descended between them, and a small part of Wesley marvelled at the ability of silence to mean so many things. He could almost hear the argument that was raging inside of Giles' head.

Finally, Giles said, his voice sure and strong "Ask him to come. She needs him."

"I will." Wesley took up the task without hesitation. "I'll let you go now Giles, I imagine that things are close to Bedlam there. Please give Buffy and Dawn our love, and do let us know if there is anything we can do."

"Thank you Wesley. Give my regards to Cordelia. Goodbye." Giles hung up the phone, and Wesley carefully placed the receiver back in its cradle at his end.

"Stay here, Cordelia. I just need to see Angel for a moment." Cordelia nodded, and forced a watery smile. Wesley gently brushed a tear away, then hurried downstairs to see Angel.

Wesley's gaze took in the destroyed room with hurried practice. Angel was not there, but the violent upheaval of the room suggested that he had passed through after hearing about Joyce. Amidst the wreckage, he noticed some clothes were missing, along with a bag, his coat, and a few other things. Confident that Angel was already on his way to Sunnydale, Welsey returned upstairs.
**
Cordelia had shifted to one of the more comfortable chairs, and held a steaming cup of tea. She curled her fingers tightly around the mug, letting the heat of the liquid seep into her palms. Noticing the fresh cup that awaited him, Wesley picked it up then sat down beside her. They sat in silence for some minutes, neither touching nor responding to the others presence in any way.

Finally, Cordelia asked quietly, "Angel?"

"He's not there. I think he has already left for Sunnydale."

She nodded and gripped her mug tighter. Wesley hesitated, then leant closer to her, brushing his fingers over her damp cheek. Her eyes lifted to his, and she held his gaze for a moment before she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Mrs Summers was always so nice to me Wesley. She never judged me, or told me that I was worthless. Even though Buffy and I had our differences, her Mom always had time for me. And I never really thanked her for it. I mean she was always offering a cup of tea, or a shoulder to cry on, and sometimes I took her up on the offer. But normally, I just brushed her off with a 'whatever lady' shrug. I should have been nicer to her. I should have thanked her. I should have talked to her."

Wesley laid a finger over her lips, stilling the words. "Life will always be full of should-have beens Cordelia. You were a teenager, wrapped up in school and fashion and boys, as was her own daughter. I am sure that you were never harsher in your treatment of Mrs Summers than Buffy ever was. You may have been abrupt or inconsiderate, my dear, but I am sure that you were never intentionally cruel or malicious. You may have been just a tiny bit self-centred, but teenagers are. She knew that."

Cordelia shook her head. "I was so busy being Queen Cordelia that I didn't have time for anyone. I should have. I should have made the time."

"Hindsight is always an example of perfect vision. There will always be regrets Cordelia. So long as your behaviour was appropriate, I am sure that Mrs Summers would have nothing to reproach. I know her death is a shock, but that is not all you are reacting to here. I know you my dear." He paused and then gently tapped her forehead. "What else is going on in that head of yours?"

She toyed with the idea of not answering, and finally decided that Wesley deserved no less than complete honesty. "It sounds silly if I say it out loud, and it's so selfish, and woe is me, look at poor Cordelia to be even thinking about it, but when I realised that Mrs Summers was dead, I realised how completely alone I am. I mean, I know that my mother is not dead, and I would never wish that she was or anything like that, but in effect, she might as well be. When Daddy went to gaol because of the tax thing, Mom just left. Not physically at first, but she just completely lost interest in Daddy, in me, in home. She separated herself off into her own little world, and left the rest of us behind. I tried at first to get her back, to make things interesting. I thought maybe she needs some help in dealing with things, so I took on as much as I could to keep the house running and all that, but I finally realised she wasn't interested because she did not want to be interested. She just didn't care. I can't even tell you the last time she spoke to me, or where she is now.

Mrs Summers was always there for Buffy. Even after Buffy ran away, she still loved her first and punished her second. And now she's gone, and I know that Buffy must feel empty. And so alone; even with Dawnie there, Buffy must feel so alone and adrift in the world."

Wesley slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a comforting squeeze. "Believe me sweetheart, that is not selfish, that is acute and perceptive. If anything, you have just shown me how far you have come from the beautiful young girl I knew in Sunnydale. Buffy must be feeling lonely and abandoned right now, and perhaps you might be able to help her with that. As for your own mother, Cordy all you can do is try. Be there, ready to talk and available fro her is she needs you, but you must not hold yourself responsible for her inaction. She is an adult as well, and responsible for herself. And sometimes, sometimes their presence can be worse than their absence. Believe me, Cordelia there are times when I used to yearn for some distance between my father and myself. I desperately begged for some way to get him to acknowledge that I was a capable human being, but I was never good enough, smart enough or bright enough to win his approval. I never will be, but I will keep trying, as that is all I can do. And you need never feel adrift in the world Cordelia. I swear to you, that as long as you need me, I will be here for you. Gunn as well. And even though his recent behaviour may suggest otherwise, I would suggest that Angel treasures you. Angel Investigations is more than a workplace, we belong here. And family is where we belong. So as long as you need us, you belong here, we are your family. Now come, dry your eyes, and I'll take you home." He stood and stretched out a hand

Cordelia scrubbed her cheeks with the backs of her hands, and self-consciously said, "I must look a mess."

Wesley pulled a teasing smile from his soul and presented it to her. "No more than usual."

Cordelia took his hand, and answered his smile with a small genuine one of her own, then wrapped her arms around him in an affectionate hug. "Thank you Wes." She hugged him hard then looked up into his face for a brief moment before she leant in and kissed him gently on the mouth. She pulled back to see the shutters go down over his eyes. She waited a moment, then leant in and kissed him again, this time more slowly and suggestively. He responded, but took it no further than she offered.

They broke apart, each trying to gauge the reaction of the other. At last in an attempt to deflect attention from the feelings stirred inside him by the kiss, Wesley said, "Well we could classify ourselves as kissing cousins, but that could..."

Cordelia placed her finger over his lips and asked, "Do you ever remember how we were in Sunnydale?"

Wesley nodded, unsure as to where she was leading him.

"Do you ever wish ......" She trailed off, uncertain what she was asking, how to phrase it, even what she wanted to know.

Wesley studied her face, and grasped the fundamental basis of her problem. After all, he found himself in a similar situation quite often and answered, "Sometimes."

Cordelia grinned in thanks, then asked wistfully, "Maybe someday?"

Wesley slung an arm around her, and said, "Possibly. Especially from where I am sitting."

Cordelia rested her head against his shoulder for a moment, and said, "I'm glad." Together they walked towards the door, slightly more secure with their own futures.

End.