Act Two

Cordelia woke with a start, shooting upright in her bed. She looked at the clock. 7:30 am. Cordy shook her head and sighed, knowing she would never make her first class. If she was lucky, she could make English class.

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes. She was tired. Wesley said that Slayers should be able to survive on very little sleep. Cordelia was sick of surviving. She wanted to live.

Cordelia walked to her closet and flung open the doors, surveying her prospects. She didn't hear her bedroom door open as she pulled out her favorite Todd Oldham dress. When she turned around, she screamed.

"Georgia! What are you doing, just barging into my bedroom?" demanded Cordelia.

The maid put her hands over her mouth. "Miss Chase, I'm so sorry. I came in to make your bed. I thought you had left for school."

Cordelia tossed her dress onto the bed. "Well, obviously…."

Georgia interrupted. "Miss Chase, your arm!"

Cordelia looked at her arms and saw that Georgia had seen a rather large, nasty bruise on her upper left arm, where a vamp had grabbed her last night. She laughed it off. "Oh, this is nothing. Cheerleading practice got a little rough yesterday, I suppose."

The maid nodded. "I'll come back later," she said quietly as she backed out of the door.

Cordelia picked her dress up from the bed and walked back to the closet. "Guess I won't be wearing you today. What's next?"

Cordelia closed her locker door to find Andromeda smiling at her.

"Good morning," Andromeda offered brightly.

"That remains to be seen," replied Cordelia.

Andromeda laughed and continued her conversation. "Where were you this morning? I found out that we have Mrs. Miller together."

"Well, lucky me," said Cordelia dryly as she began to walk away.

Andromeda sighed and caught up with the former head cheerleader. "Listen, I know you don't want me around, and I just can't figure out why."

This statement stopped Cordelia. "You really have no idea what this is about, do you?"

Andromeda shook her head. "Other than it's one big power struggle between you and Aura."

"Fine, you've got me there. Aura wants what I have. She wants to be the leader, but all she and Harmony will ever be are sheep."

"So you decide to make my life hell."

Cordelia shrugged. "You're a pawn. Deal."

Andromeda looked squarely into Cordelia's eyes. "I didn't ask for this. All I wanted was to fit in. I was a cheerleader at my old school, so I thought this would be a great way for me to meet people. Guess I was wrong."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "You want to meet people? Are you barking up the wrong tree or what?"

"I don't understand."

"Are you going to lunch?"

"What? Um, I mean, yes. I mean, I'm supposed to meet Aura and Harmony."

"Ditch 'em. Come have lunch with me."

"What?"

"You want to get to know people? Have lunch with me. Aura and Harmony only know people because I know people."

Andromeda thought for a moment, then smiled. "Sure."

As they walked toward the cafeteria together, Cordelia stopped to get water. As she leaned over, that distant feeling came over her once again, and suddenly, she heard someone speaking in her head.

You can trust her, Cordelia. She's a nice girl, and the two of you probably have a lot in common.

"Cordelia, are you OK?" Andromeda asked.

"What?" Cordelia shook her head, and realized that she was spilling water down the front of her top. "Ugh. That's never happened before."

Cordelia continued to dry the front of her shirt as she and Andromeda walked along the campus.

"I still don't understand," Andromeda began. "If you don't like Aura and Harmony, why do you sit with them?"

"Wow—you cut right to the tough questions, don't you?" Cordelia asked.

"If they're really your friends, then it shouldn't be hard at all," Andromeda commented.

"Have you never heard of duty?"

"I'm afraid you're being rather fuzzy again," answered Andromeda.

Cordelia sat down with her lunch at a nearby table. "It's like people expect us to sit together. We have this responsibility to be popular. Problem is, my interests have started shifting, and Aura knows it. She wants what I have, and she's using you to get it."

"Me?" Andromeda sat down in front of Cordelia, puzzled.

"Mmm-hmm. I've been out for a few days and now Aura thinks she's in charge. That's why you were sitting at the lunch table yesterday. It's all about power."

Andromeda was about to speak, but Mitch walked up, interrupting.

"Hello, ladies."

Cordelia arched an eyebrow. "I have nothing to say to you. Go away."

Mitch sat down beside her. "What's going on?"

She glared at him. "You broke our date last night and didn't bother to call!"

"I…I…" Mitch stammered.

Cordelia turned her head sharply toward Andromeda. "And you—this is your fault! He broke our date to show you around town!"

"Cordy, please let me explain," Mitch pleaded.

Cordelia stood up. "There's no need to explain. I'm done with you. I hope the two of you are very happy together."

She stormed off, heading back into the school, leaving Mitch and Andromeda to stare at one another.

Cordelia stalked the halls of Sunnydale High School. The depth of her foul mood was so evident that students standing in the hallways made sure to quickly clear a way for her. She made a sharp left turn and peered inside the library. Wesley was there again with Miranda. They were leaning on the circulation desk, holding hands and studying a book together. This was too much for Cordelia, who pushed the doors open and immediately set in on them.

"You know, I am sick and tired of this schmoopy-face that you two give one another."

Wesley and Miranda jumped in surprise, breaking apart their hands, which pleased Cordelia immensely.

"Cordelia, please lower your voice," Wesley admonished.

The Slayer threw her Watcher a dangerous glance. "Back off, Head Boy. This is between me and the librarian."

Miranda straightened her posture. "Well, then, let's hear what you've got to say."

"Another thing I'm sick of? This 'stiff-upper-lip' act of yours. Don't you every get angry or happy or feel anything other than…British?" Cordelia was exasperated.

"I hardly see how my emotions are any of your business at all," Miranda countered as she calmly moved from behind the circulation desk. " You really should be concentrating on your calling."

"Well, I hardly see how my calling is any of your business," Cordelia said, punctuating her sentence by throwing her hips to the left and placing her hands over them. From the corner of her eye, she saw Wesley take a big gulp, making a satisfied smirk creep over Cordelia's mouth.

Miranda returned the smile, not realizing that it wasn't meant for her. "On the contrary, your calling is very much my business. You forget that I am a member of the very Council that created your calling. All the silly and reckless things you do reflect on Wesley and the rest of us."

"Oh, in that case, how can I become as perfect as you?" Cordelia countered sarcastically.

"My dear," Miranda said as she turned to go into her office, "I'm afraid that attitude is going to get you killed. Wesley, your Slayer would do well to receive training in proper respect for her superiors."

"You're not my superior," Cordelia stated.

Miranda turned back to face Cordelia. "I am a part of your governing council. I suggest you keep that in mind when you speak to me, unless you have a strong desire to come face to face with Quinton Travers."

"You know what I really desire?"

"What is that?" Miranda asked smugly.

Cordelia glared. "To kick your pompous English ass."

"Is that so?" Miranda asked, walking closer to the Slayer. "You'd really put me in my place, then, wouldn't you?"

Cordelia took a step toward the librarian. "Yes, I think I would. Care to give it a go?"

Wesley quickly got between them. "Miranda, Cordelia. This behavior is hardly becoming of a Watcher or a Slayer. Or adults. We really should let cooler heads prevail."

"Wesley, darling, my head is perfectly cool," Miranda said sweetly. "If Cordelia needs to blow off some steam, then she should feel free. I can protect myself."

He looked at his fuming Slayer. She seemed ready to tear Miranda's head off. "Perhaps, Cordelia, you should go home and get some rest. Use your anger for our patrol tonight."

"No, Wesley. What I want is for you and your girlfriend to butt out. Just because she's like a Watcher-in-training or whatever, doesn't give her the right to tell either of us how to do our jobs."

Wesley sighed, exasperated, as the two women in his life stared at one another threateningly. Finally, a thought came to him. "I know! Let's make it a training session. I have weapons in my bag."

"You brought weapons?" Cordelia asked suspiciously.

"Well, yes. That's why I'm here. I came to tell you that I've received word from The Council that the Cult of Sagamon has been traced to this area."

"The Saga-what?" asked Cordelia, confused.

"I don't understand," Miranda began. "I haven't heard anything at all."

"That's because Wesley's a real Watcher," Cordelia said with a satisfied smile. "And you're just a wannabe."

Wesley cleared his throat and spoke loudly. "The Cult of Sagamon is a sect that worships…"

"Sagamon?" Cordelia interrupted, turning her attention to Wesley. "Who's he?"

Wesley sighed. "Sagamon is a hunter. Of Slayers. In fact, that is how the previous Slayer died."

"Great! Someone else who wants me out of the way," said Cordelia, looking pointedly at a sighing Miranda.

"I don't want you out of the way. I want you to keep a cool head. I understand that you don't like me. I actually have no problem with it at all. Do you think you're the first Slayer to be jealous of her Watcher's girlfriend?" Miranda asked, pushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

Cordelia looked Miranda up and down. "Oh, yeah. I'm just brimming over with jealousy. Whatever will I do? I don't have limp mousy brown hair. I don't dress like the second coming of frump. However will I attract a man?"

"I don't know, have you considered intelligent conversation? Or maybe dating someone your own age?" Miranda tilted her head to the side.

"The Cult of Sagamon," Wesley repeated loudly, breaking up the verbal sparring, "track their demon's prey for him. One of the cultists infiltrates the Slayer's life, and discovers her weaknesses."

"Well, how convenient. I don't have any weaknesses," said a very confident Cordelia.

"With the exception of your vanity, and your pride," stated Wesley.

"And your affection for Wesley," astutely observed Miranda.

"I do not have an…ok, fine. He's my Watcher," admitted Cordelia as she crossed her arms over her middle. "What do these freaky cult guys look like?"

Wesley grinned. "Ah, I'm glad you asked." He grabbed the book from the circulation desk and showed Cordelia a sketch of hooded figures. She raised her eyebrows.

"I think I'm definitely going to know if one of these is tracking me," she said.

"Don't be so sure. Apart from the robes, their appearance is very much like yours and mine. Sagamon's followers are human. However, you will know that the hunt has begun by a sudden onset of daydreams. It's said here in the Diaries that the Slayer feels as if she is sliding down into a deep sleep," Wesley read from the book.

Miranda looked at Cordelia. "I've also read that as the Slayer becomes tracked, her personality changes severely."

Wesley shook his head. "But Cordelia has just recently been called, so it's difficult to determine if the changes she's undergoing are part of her calling, or the hunt itself. Tell me, Cordelia, are there any people who seem to want to get close to you?"

"Wes. I'm the most popular person at this school. Everyone wants to get close to me."

"But, is there anyone new?" Wesley pressed on.

Cordelia shot a sidelong glance at Miranda. "Well, there's her."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Miranda asked, aghast.

"I think we can safely rule out Miranda," Wesley stated diplomatically.

Cordelia shrugged, and the bell rang. "I'm just saying. Anyway, I have a History test to make up. Wesley, meet me at my house for patrol?"

Wesley nodded meekly as Cordelia sashayed out of the library. In the uncomfortable silence, he turned to Miranda. "I'd better go."

Miranda huffed in exasperation. "You're going to believe her now, are you? I can't stand it. We've known one another for years—intimately, may I add—and you're actually considering that I'm a member of a cult that hunts Slayers?"

"I've said no such thing," Wesley countered.

"But you're ready to run the minute she makes that outlandish accusation."

"I came here to speak to Cordelia about who may be after her. Seeing you here wa a pleasant diversion," Wesley said with a smile.

Miranda's eyes went wide with disbelief. "I'm a pleasant diversion?"

Wesley looked confused. "You understand that my duty to Cordelia, as her Watcher, must be my first priority?"

"Of course I understand that. I just didn't realize that I was merely a diversion."

"You're not an actual diversion," said Wesley. "Just a distraction to me while I'm in this school."

Miranda opened her mouth, and closed her eyes, as if she was about to say something. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and closed her mouth. Opening her mouth again, she spoke. "So now, I'm not a diversion. I'm a distraction. Funny, they mean the same thing."

"I'm not making this any better as I try to explain myself. Perhaps it's best if I just leave. Shall I see you tonight, after patrol?"

Miranda shrugged. "Since I haven't found a place of my own yet, I suppose you will."

"Very well, then," Wesley said with a smile, and walked out of the door, leaving a bewildered Miranda behind.

When Wesley left, Miranda looked down at her clothes. "I am not frumpy."