Chapter Seven: Like Sugar in Water
Cordelia awoke to the sensation of being well and thoroughly kissed. She instinctively kissed back, only to be rudely pulled from the moment by the realization of who she was kissing.
I'm never going to sleep again, she decided, still kissing Angelus. First, I wake up next to Drusilla, then I wake up to Angelus feeling me up, and now with the kissing . . . and, oh, but I'd forgotten how good this man can kiss!
Hello! she berated herself. It's Angelus! And you're not even in your own body! Slutty much?
Finally acquiescing to reason, Cordy broke the kiss and pushed the vampire off her. Sitting up in the bed, she looked around, and was surprised to find Dru hadn't returned. And, if the top half was any indication, Angelus had apparently decided to forego clothing when he went to bed. He'd already been sound asleep under the covers when Cordy snuck in that morning, just as dawn was breaking. She'd hoped that by waiting as long as possible, he wouldn't be as likely to come on to her; she'd congratulated herself on the success of her plan. Unfortunately, she'd failed to think about this evening.
"Where's Dru?" Cordy jerked her leg back when she felt a cold hand creep underneath her long skirt and begin moving upwards.
"Don't know," Angelus replied, not at all deterred by Cordelia's movements away from him. His hand once again found her leg and started skimming up the flesh.
Cordy reached down and grabbed his hand though the covers in an iron tight grip just above her knee. "I can't believe you!" she cried indignantly.
Angelus managed to get his hand lose, and when it brushed along Cordy's inner thigh, she sprang out of the bed so fast, she took the covers with her, ending up in a tangled heap on the floor.
"Dru's gone missing, and all you can think about is sex!" she hollered at him, disentangling herself and trying desperately to keep her eyes from straying away from the face of the now naked, uncovered vampire on the bed. "She wouldn't be missing if you hadn't scared her so badly yesterday! And you don't even care!"
As soon as she was standing, Cordelia marched towards the door, still yelling at Angelus. "And another thing, Mister! Don't think I don't know that you had some tavern wench in here yesterday! I can smell it!"
That was an aspect of vampire senses she'd found particularly disturbing. The fact that she could smell the sex, even hours later, and somehow knew that the act had involved Angelus and a human female had wigged her out to no end when she'd first realized what that strange odor was that morning. She'd been even more wigged to discover she was jealous.
Realizing that the righteous indignation she'd worked up was going to get her out the door, Cordy decided the dress she'd slept in would have to do for another day. With one last icy glare at Angelus, she grabbed her cloak and purse and flung the door open.
Angelus was still sitting on the bed buck-naked with his mouth hanging open, wondering when she'd started to care what happened to Dru so much or who he slept with when she wasn't around, when the door slammed shut behind the thoroughly pissed-off Darla.
Cordelia waited until she was out of the inn and around a corner before she stopped and slumped against a wall with relief, congratulating herself on her Oscar worthy performance. That obstacle was dealt with for the time being – and if she really worked at it, she could probably continue to "stay mad" at Angelus for at least another day.
Hopefully I'll be gone by then, and then those two can . . . and there's no way I can finish that sentence that won't yuck me out!
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Willow opened her eyes as she emerged from the spell-induced trance, her face pale. She was seated in a chair next to Buffy's bed, having just performed the spell Wesley had called about.
"What did you find out?" Xander asked worriedly, not liking the lack of color in his friend's face. Either the spell was that draining or the news Willow bore was that bad. Considering the situation, he suspected the latter.
The witch's eyes darted nervously between Xander and Spike before she decided that the safest bet at this point was to look at Dawn or Anya.
"I should talk to Wesley," Willow said, evading Xander's question.
"Tell us first," Xander demanded. "It's that bad? What did you find? Is there someone else in there? Or something? Is she …" Even now, Xander couldn't bring himself to voice the dreaded "d" word in relation to Buffy. "What is it?"
Willow stood and slowly moved so that she was between her childhood friend and the vampire she knew was going to take the brunt of his anger and frustration when Xander learned what she'd discovered.
"There is someone in there," she explained, then decided against telling Xander until she had more information. "But let me talk to Wesley first." Picking the cordless phone up from the nightstand beside Buffy's bed, she said, "Spike, why don't you come down with me, and, uh, help me make some tea while I talk to Wesley."
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"And I thought losing my soul from sex was bad." Angel's response to Wesley's announcement that Darla's spirit inhabited Cordelia's body was laced with bitter irony and caused all but one of the heads in the room to turn to him incredulously.
"You slept with her, man?" Gunn demanded, moving towards Angel. "Even though you know what could happen to you? And you lied to us about it! You told us she just went to sleep."
"Oh, I didn't sleep with her," Angel said darkly, pointedly refusing to look at his son.
Fred's eyes grew wide as she figured out what Angel meant. When she spoke, her voice came out high and surprised. "Oh."
"Yes, well," Wesley said, "I doubt that the, er, physical activity is what triggered this. I think we're looking at a spell. The timing is simply coincidental."
The phone rang, cutting off further conversation, and he left quickly to answer it, thankful not only of the respite from the latest startling revelation, but also for the progress he hoped to make after speaking to Willow and finding out what the Sunnydale group had discovered.
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"You did this!" Xander accused, taking a threatening step towards Spike. The vampire and Willow had just returned to Buffy's room, and the redheaded witch had announced who had taken up residence in Buffy's body.
When they had gone downstairs, Willow had pulled out the tea kettle and filled it in silence. It wasn't until after she'd put it on the stove, that she turned to Spike.
"It's Drusilla," she said.
"What?" Spike asked, confusion clouding his face.
"In Buffy," Willow explained. "It's Drusilla. I wanted to tell you first because we'll need you to control her if she wakes up, and, well, Xander's going to freak."
Spike snorted. "Yeah. Well, I'll stick around in case you need me. If Dru wakes up, she'll probably take off. And with the Slayer strength, none of you lot'll be able to stop her."
"Spike," Willow began hesitantly, "is there any way…"
Spike closed his eyes, realizing he fully deserved the accusation, but still hurt by it.
"…that Dru could be responsible for this?"
He looked at the redhead in surprise. She looked at him expectantly, no guile apparent on her features.
"I…" Spike started, "maybe. But it's not really her style. Too subtle. 'Sides, if Dru'd orchestrated this mess, wouldn't she want to be able to wake up in Buffy's body?"
The redhead nodded and shrugged, picking up the phone. It wasn't until after she'd finished with Wesley and the two started up the stairs that Spike spoke again.
"Thanks, Red," he said.
"For what?"
"For not assuming I was responsible."
She turned to him, surprise on her face. "Oh, well, you're welcome, I guess."
They continued on in silence for about five seconds before Willow said cautiously, "Um, you're not, right?"
"No, Red." Smiling, Spike shook his head. His mood remained relatively light, regardless of the situation, until Xander's automatic assumption of his guilt. Not that he expected any less from the boy, but it still hurt.
"Actually," Willow said, stepping between the two, and effectively halting Xander's advance, "we think it's probably an attack on Angel that went wrong. Cordelia has Darla inside of her. Apparently she and Angel are pretty close. Cordelia, that is, not Darla. Although I guess she was pretty close to Angel, too, or Angelus anyway, and I'm going to stop talking now."
"So, someone wants to get Angel. They take two women who are very close to him, Buffy and Cordelia, and do a body swap with his old family," Anya said. "That's really quite creative."
"Wait," Xander said, too used to Anya's unusual perspectives to react to her comment. "Isn't Darla dead? Didn't Deadboy dust her a really long time ago?"
"She's alive again," Spike said. "Or, undead again. Some lawyers brought her back a couple of years ago. Made her human. But she was dying, probably from syphilis or somethin' similar. Anyway, she tried to get the poof to turn her again, but he wouldn't. So, Dru did."
"And you've known this for how long and didn't tell us?" Xander demanded. "Didn't feel it might be something we needed to know?"
"Not really," Spike said, some of his old arrogance showing through as he faced off against Xander. "She was mostly interested in botherin' Angel. 'Side, like I said, it was a couple of years back, right before…" he trailed off, unsure of how to continue. Spike marked that period of his life around a single important event – Buffy's death and resurrection. However, he still didn't like to talk about it. Settling on what to say, he continued, "…before Glory."
"Um, right," Willow said. "That's what Wesley said. About Darla. Only in less detail. But you're right, Xander. She is dead, again. We think if she and Cordelia switched bodies, that will be the hard one to fix because that means Cordelia's in a hell dimension somewhere that Darla would have gone to when she dusted. Wesley did say something about Darla's death being self-sacrifice, but he still wasn't too hopeful that that one act would cancel out all her years of evil. Anyway, Buffy should be easier to fix because Drusilla's still alive, or undead. We just have to find her."
"So, we just wait for Buffy to come home?" Dawn asked.
"Well, I'm sure she's working on getting here," Willow told the teen. "But there's no reason we can't try and find her and meet her halfway."
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When Wesley returned to the upstairs room he was met by awkward silence. Fred and Gunn were now sitting next to each other staring at Cordy lying on the bed, one hand from each joined between them. Connor and Angel stood on opposite sides of the room, avoiding looking at one another.
"It appears that what's happened to Cordelia is connected to Buffy's condition. Her body also has a displaced spirit within it."
"Who is it?" Fred asked.
"Drusilla," Angel said, staring at the doorway past Wesley's shoulder.
"Yes," Wes said, looking at Angel quizzically. "How did you—"
The former watcher's question was cut off as Connor pushed past him, barreling towards the door behind Wesley and the sleight, dark-haired vampiress standing there.
"Connor, no!" Angel shouted, having already started moving. His hand closed around Connor's arm, jerking the boy to a halt just before he breached the invisible barrier in the doorway.
"Silly little boy," Dru chided, holding out her index fingers and using one to brush down the length of the other in a "shame, shame" gesture. "Even when she's Grandmamma, I can't come in. Still too human." She laughed before turning hopeful eyes to Angel, leaning forwards conspiratorially. "She's just like me. She sees the pixies dancing in the stars. She would make a lovely addition to our family. Will you make me a sister, Daddy?"
Angel took in a deep, unneeded breath before responding as patiently as he could. "We're not a family anymore, Dru."
Drusilla looked at him as if he were the crazy one before answering, "Of course we are. You don't get to pick your family."
"Who is this?" Connor demanded.
Angel sighed. "Connor, meet Drusilla, your sister or aunt or…or something. I, I sired her back when I was evil."
Dru turned quizzical eyes to Connor, cocked her head to the side and reached out as if to stroke Connor's face.
Forgetting the invisible barrier that still separated them, Connor jerked his head back.
"Er, Drusilla," Wesley said having picked up on Dru's earlier comment and hoping to head off the landmine that Drusilla and Connor interacting was sure to be, "what did you mean about Cordelia being Grandmamma?"
"The little girl who sees pretty pictures of death and destruction isn't there. Grandmamma is."
"Darla," Angel clarified. "She hated when Dru called her that."
"I don't understand," Wesley said. "We assumed they'd switched bodies somehow. But if Dru's here . . . Drusilla, do you know what happened to Buffy?"
"Nasty, icky Slayer." Drusilla pouted sadly. "Stole my Daddy. Stole my William. She's me, but I can't wake up."
"Do you know what's going on, Dru?" Angel asked, using a stern voice intended to ensure Drusilla's cooperation. He might feel guilty for the numerous atrocities he'd visited upon Drusilla over the years, but that didn't mean he was above using her dysfunctional view of him as a father figure to his advantage when it came to helping someone he cared about. "How do we fix this?"
"You can't," she said sadly, backing away from the door and twirling around, like a child who had just discovered she could make her dark skirts fan out around her. "Only the Slayer can. But she won't. And then we'll all disappear, like sugar in water. Never to have been."
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"Never again," Cordelia swore to herself as she pushed open the door to the Devlins' shop. She'd always thought the old-fashioned dresses like she now found herself in were glamorous and exciting and romantic. After two days stuck in them and the corsets and petticoats that went beneath them, though, she was convinced that, regardless of how beautiful she might look – and let's face it, it can't be that beautiful while I'm in Darla's body – there was nothing glamorous about wearing the constricting, uncomfortable clothing.
Shaking off her discomfort as an inescapable fact, she smiled as Mrs. Devlin looked up from the book she was reading while standing across the counter from Cordy.
"So, what's the verdict?" Cordelia inquired.
"I beg your pardon?" Mrs. Devlin's hand crept towards the open bottle of holy water underneath the counter at the unfamiliar turn of phrase from the blond vampire, fearing it was a lead in to something she'd rather not be party to – namely, her death at Darla's hands.
"The book," Cordy explained, worried that the woman had tensed up, fearing it meant bad news. "Did it have the spell? Can you do it?"
"Oh, yes," the woman said, forcing her body to relax. "I've set up the preparations in the back room. Go on back." She gestured to a door off to her right as she continued. "I just need to grab a few things and lock the front door.
"I'm so glad I ran into you," Cordelia said as she opened the door. Pausing, she turned to look at the kindly woman. "I really appreciate your help."
Mrs. Devlin smiled nervously and pretended to busy herself with gathering items from behind the counter until Darla stepped through the opening.
Cordy paused just inside the door, giving her eyes a chance to adjust to the low light in the back room. Seeing a circle of sand on the floor with a high-back, wooden chair sitting in the middle of it, she took another step forward.
Mrs. Devlin looked up and smiled with relief when she heard a sharp crack from the back room, followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor. Hurrying to the front door, she locked it before swiftly moving to the back room to help her husband restrain the unconscious blonde visitor.
To Be Continued in: "Chapter Eight: The Devlins"
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A/N: Cue ominous "Dum, Dum, Dum" music. Lovely to hear from everyone – old friends and new names alike! Thank you so much for the huge response to the last chapter! Rachel, Vette, Winter, North Star, Wordylou, Leahalexis, Lia, and Rowan – You guys made my day. In fact, you made about three days for me! THANK YOU! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, too.