"Room With a View"
Based on the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Episode "Beer Bad" Written by Tracey Forbes and the Angel Episode "Rm w/a Vu" Written by David Greenwalt and Jane Espenson
The following story is copyright © 2023 by Mark Moore.
In the office of Angel Investigations, at night, Cordelia was holding up a torn, white trash bag. "I've had it with these cheap trash bags! They leak and break and end up costing us more!" She dropped the bag in front of Doyle.
Doyle nodded at her. "I believe it!"
Cordelia sat down at her desk. "Yeah, it was a great audition! I was all about things leaking. How could they not pick me?"
"They don't know what they missed."
The telephone rang.
"They gave it to a blonde that showed up in a skintight leather catsuit. She is supposed to be a housewife. She looked ridiculous. She looked like Catwoman taking out the cat trash."
"Are you going to answer the phone?"
Angel walked into the room. "Good question."
"Oh, yeah, right."
The answering machine kicked on.
"Oh, the machine got it."
"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless. If that's you, leave a message."
The machine beeped.
"Hey, Cordy. It's Aura. Just wanted to check in, you know, see how you were doing."
Angel looked up and walked away.
"Oh, you would not believe what's going on in Sunnydale!"
Cordelia just straightened stuff on her desk, making no move to pick up the phone.
"You don't want to talk to her?" Doyle asked her.
"No, not just yet. She is just going to ask me where I'm living and how the acting is going, and I'm just not up to leading the parade of pain. I'll do it when things get better."
"Well, I don't know if I can help with the acting, but about the apartment-"
"What?"
"Well, if you ever want to, I don't know, stay a night away from the place...maybe give me a call."
"Well, stranger things have happened. No, wait, they really haven't." Cordelia got up, picked up her jacket and purse, and headed for the door. "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Angel, I'm taking off!"
Cordelia opened the door to her apartment. The key stuck, and, when she finally got it out, she scratched up her arm in the process.
"Ouch! Damn it!" Cordelia exclaimed.
She turned on the light. It flickered before it finally stayed on. She closed and locked the door and went to the kitchen sink to get a drink of water. She turned the knob. The water was a dingy brown and came shooting out of the faucet, splattering all over her white shirt.
Cordelia closed the water. "Yeah, well, of course."
She went to sit down on the couch and turned on the TV. There was a huge cockroach on the screen. Cordelia picked the phone up with a groan and dialed her landlord's number.
"Yeah?"
"Hello? Hi, this is Cordelia Chase from apartment 4B."
There were now three cockroaches crawling over the TV screen.
"I thought you were going to have the exterminator in here today?"
"He was there."
"Well, if he had, don't you think there would be-" Cordelia put her foot down and squashed a cockroach.
She looked down. The carpet was littered with dead bugs.
"Ah, oh, God! Ahh!" Cordelia slammed the phone down and picked up her address book. "Doyle, Doyle..."
She found his number, picked up the phone, and dialed. The phone started ringing.
After trying to get a hold of Doyle for ten minutes, Cordelia gave up, called a cab, packed a couple of bags and a suitcase full of clothes, and rode to the office. She took the elevator down to Angel's apartment. She exited the elevator, walked over to his bedroom, set the suitcase down, and knocked hard on the door repeatedly.
The door opened. Angel was standing there, all wet, a towel wrapped around his waist. Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" was playing on a phonograph.
Cordelia stepped into the bedroom, pushing the bags into Angel's hands, and walked past him.
"Oh, God, Angel! It's so terrible! Oh, my God." Cordelia turned around and held up her hands in front of her face. "Don't even look at me! I am such a mess. I am the lowest of the lowest." She gestured towards the open door. "And you're going to want to get my other suitcase out there in the hall."
Angel glanced out the open door, then back at her, still hunched around the bags in his arms. "What happened?"
"My apartment. It's like the barrio...or the projects or whatever, and I live there! I'm the girl from the projects!" Cordelia cried.
Angel almost dropped one of the bags. "What? I don't know about that."
"Get this. I tried to call Doyle. I have sunk that low. And there was no answer. So...here I am. Not that you're the last resort. It's just that I have nowhere else left to go."
Cordelia went to sit down on the bed while Angel put down one of her bags.
"Roaches. Live ones, dead ones. All skinny feet and creepy antlers."
"Antlers?"
"Oh, my God!" Cordelia suddenly exclaimed. "I wonder how many stowed away in that bag."
Angel looked down at the bag that he was holding.
"Also, the water is all brown and spurty - and not hot! I am dying for a shower."
Angel put down the other bag and held onto his towel with both hands.
"I...actually smell! Smell me. I never smell. I didn't know I could. I'm just going to have to stay here until I can find a decent place, however long that takes, and, when I do, you are completely invited over." Cordelia stood up. "Hey, you can just dump my stuff on the couch...or let me have the bed. Whatever you feel good about. Also, my suitcase is still out in the hall." She picked up one of her bags and headed for the bathroom. "Your shower is in here, right? You have mousse?" She thought about it. "Of course, you do." She walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
The next morning, at 10:00 AM, Cordelia was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a white bathrobe, and looking at her reflection in a handheld mirror. She was combing her wet hair with her fingers.
Doyle came out of the elevator. "Angel, you around?"
Cordelia didn't look at him. "Hey, Doyle."
Angel walked into the kitchen, wearing boxers and a short open bathrobe.
"You ever get that feeling that you just can't shower enough? Like something's happened, and you're never going to get clean?" Cordelia asked.
"What?" Doyle asked.
"You got peanut butter on the bed."
"Really?" Cordelia didn't look at Angel. "I don't think so."
Angel showed her his hand.
"I'll look." Cordelia set down the mirror, stood up, and walked into the bedroom.
She closed the door, checked the bed, and got dressed in the clothes that she'd picked out earlier.
Cordelia opened the door and walked back into the kitchen. "Angel, at some point in the recent history, you got peanut butter on your bed, and it's gross. I think you're gonna have to change the sheets."
"I don't eat."
"Well, then I don't even want to know how it got there."
Angel stalked off towards the bedroom. Cordelia sat down at the table and began to brush out her hair.
"Hey, Cordy, you look great by the way."
"Thanks."
"Listen, I was wondering if anybody called lately? Maybe asking about me or maybe wanting my address?"
"Oh, yeah. Yesterday, your cousin called...with one of those names from your part of England."
"My part of England?"
"Conner or Fergus. Did he find you?"
Doyle sighed. "Yeah, he did, all right. But you see, a little...uh...warning might have been nice; give a fella a chance to neat the place up, you know?"
Cordelia stared at him. "Jeez, I just helped the guy as a favor to you." She stood up. "Maybe, next time, I won't bother."
"Well, it's not like you even have to pick up the phone. You just let your friend Aura hang there."
"Okay, here's an idea: how about you make me a list of people you're too good to talk to?"
Angel came back into the kitchen. "What going on?"
"Nothing, just-"
"You got a bruise on your hand."
Doyle looked at it. "Badminton."
Angel picked up a towel from the chair. "And the reason there is a wet towel on my leather chair?"
Cordelia gave him a big fake smile. Angel dropped it back down with a sigh and left the room.
Buffy and Tara were sitting in Professor Walsh's Psychology class.
"These are the things we want. Simple things. Comfort, sex, shelter, food. We always want them, and we want them all the time. The id doesn't learn; it doesn't grow up. It has the ego telling it what it can't have, and it has the superego telling it what it should want. But the id works solely out of the pleasure principle. It wants. Whatever social skills you've learned, however much we've evolved, the pleasure principle is at work in all of us. So...how does this conflict with the ego manifest itself in the psyche? What do we do when we can't have what we want?"
Buffy took notes. At the bottom, she wrote "Vampires: all id? No superego? What about ego? Talk to Sandy."
Cordelia was cutting up Angel's vinyl floor.
"What are you doing?" Doyle asked her.
"I just...I just wanted to see if he had hardwood floors under there, you know? I...I might be here a while!"
Doyle looked at some trophies on the mantel behind him. "Well, the things you learn! I had no idea Angel was Queen of the Winter Ball."
"Those are mine." Cordelia groaned as she kept working on the floor. "Tough stuff!"
"Hey, your high school diploma is all burned."
"Yeah, it was a rough ceremony." Cordelia got up. "Yup, there it is. My whole life...pre-here. Five trophies with some of the shiny worn off."
"It's good, though; you can look back. I never look back."
"Look back at what?" Cordelia asked him.
Angel came down the stairs, dressed now. "Doyle,...you down here? Oh, there you are. There's a big guy there to see you. I'll tell him you'll be right up."
"Oh, that's great."
Angel nodded and headed back up the stairs. Doyle ran out the back door.
Cordelia approached Angel's office, where he and Doyle were talking.
Angel sighed. "We all have problems. It's a matter of priorities. And at the moment, I've got a bigger one than you do."
"Bigger than a Kailiff demon?"
"Much. I'm thinking you can help me with mine, and maybe I can help you with yours."
"I don't know, man. I mean...what's your problem, exactly? Because you know, vampire business is-"
Cordelia cleared her throat. "Hi!" She smiled and waved. "I was just wondering if you had any linoleum glue...for if it started curling up all over."
Angel looked at her. "I'll be there in a minute."
Cordelia turned to go. "Okay."
Later in the day, outside, Buffy was sitting at a table with Tara and Sandy, studying and sharing a plate of fries.
Sandy nodded, chewing on a fry. "Mmm, yeah, definitely. I'm an id gal."
"Were you like this before you were vamped?" Buffy asked her, sucking a fry into her mouth.
"To an extent. Getting vamped blew it out of proportion."
"How do you deal with it?" Tara asked her, dragging her fry through ketchup.
Sandy shrugged. "It's a struggle. I try to think my choices through and make the most logical decisions, and those never involve killing."
"What if you get uncontrollable urges?" Buffy asked her.
Sandy picked up another fry and started dipping it. "I satiate myself in other ways. I eat. I drink. I masturbate."
Jenny walked up to them. "Hey."
Buffy looked at her. "Hey. What's up?"
"I'm the new bartender over at the pub."
"Why?" Buffy asked.
"I need the extra cash. My landlord jacked up my rent."
"And a university teaching position won't cover it?" Buffy asked.
Jenny shook her head. "Mm, I'm not a professor. I'm actually not getting paid much more than I did at Sunnydale High."
Buffy made a face. "That sucks."
"Wanna come hang out?" Jenny asked. "It seems like a fun place."
Buffy considered it. "Can I drink?"
"Not booze. At least, you can't order it yourself. However, if you just happen to get someone that's of age to buy it for you and bring it over to you, well, I might just be too distracted by the other patrons to notice." Jenny winked at her.
Buffy smiled. "I'm there."
"Tara? Sandy?" Jenny asked.
Tara looked at Jenny. "Sandy and I are actually going to the Bronze tonight. There's this new band playing that we wanna check out."
Sandy looked at Jenny and nodded. "They're called Shy. They're kind of a big deal in the indie rock scene. They make their own CDs and sell them, and they've gotten their songs played in clubs - even as far away as LA."
A guy was showing an apartment to Cordelia and Doyle.
Doyle looked at Cordelia. "You know, I wish you would just let me call my guy."
Cordelia was holding a newspaper. "I'm not going to get an apartment through 'some guy'. He probably judges the property value on how far the bus ride is to the track."
Doyle looked around. "Well, it can't get any worse than this, can it?"
"You can't tell anything from the hallway."
The landlord unlocked the door and opened it. The apartment was tiny and totally mildewy.
"Hey, you're right. You know what I smell in here? Potential."
Cordelia looked at Doyle. "The next one will be better."
A clean-cut guy led Cordelia and Doyle down some steps.
He pulled a curtain aside to reveal a toilet and sink. "It's like a community, you know? We share all the upkeep and chores."
Cordelia leaned close to Doyle. "Oh, my urination just hasn't been public enough lately."
"Oh, we don't believe in barriers. It's the first rule of the great leader. Uh, you can come to the meetings if you want. Every morning at 5:00."
Cordelia looked at the guy. "Okay, that's just a touch too early for me."
"Oh, you'll be up. The chanting starts at 4:00."
Cordelia was standing in the doorway of a nice apartment.
There was a big guy with a big gut standing next to her. "So...you're a single gal...going to be living here alone? Because I'm right across the hall, and you can sleep easy knowing that I'm the only other soul in the world with a key to that door." He smiled at her and tossed his keys in the air. "You just think about that while you look, okay?"
Cordelia looked at Doyle and took a deep breath. "Okay, just out of curiosity, you said you know a guy?"
"Finally. What is it with you and Angel? You got to do everything the hard way."
A lady in a suit was letting Cordelia and Doyle into a furnished apartment. It was spacious and had yellow walls.
"Oh, my God. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" Cordelia asked Doyle.
"No, never."
Cordelia looked around. "It's perfect. Really, really, it's just...perfect." She looked in the bedroom. "It's amazing in there." She looked at the lady. "What's wrong with it?"
"There's nothing wrong with it. The previous tenant just broke their lease last week. I don't know how you even heard about it."
Cordelia smiled at Doyle.
"It's quite a bargain, and the furniture comes with. Do you think you want it?"
"I...I used to have this. I...I was..."
"I guess it's your lucky day."
"I used to have those, too."
Doyle looked at the lady. "She'll take it."
The lady walked away. "I'll fill out the rental forms."
Cordelia pointed at a wall. "First thing: hire someone to take out that wall."
"I thought you said it was perfect."
"Yes, and part of being perfect is that there being one tiny flaw for me to fix."
"Ah, must be why you find me so fascinating."
Cordelia laughed. "Oh, my God, I love my apartment. Your guy found the perfect place." She hugged Doyle. "I love your guy!"
"Yeah, well, it's a pretty good day's work for us, I think. I take care of your problem; Angel takes care of mine. All in all, things are pretty sweet."
Cordelia grabbed his arm and led him out. "Yes! And I can move right in."
That evening, at the pub, Jenny was bartending. Buffy walked in and saw Parker talking to a girl. She walked right into Riley, spilling his drink on him.
"Oooh. Riley, I'm so sorry."
"That's okay, you know, but most people go around. I'm not saying you can't go through me. It's just that the other is much quicker."
"In my defense, you do take up a lot of space."
"I do. I'm..." Riley paused. "You looking for someone?"
"Um, I just saw Parker over there."
"Right. Parker and his latest conquest. You know, that boy should have-"
"He's kinda a girl chaser, huh?"
"Sets 'em up and knocks 'em down. I guess maybe I'm old-fashioned, but my father says that, if you wanna be a gentleman, you...don't even care what my father says."
Buffy was ignoring him, focusing on the girl. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Forget about it. You know, I've got some people waiting. I'll see you in class, right?" Riley left.
Buffy saw Parker and the girl making out and walked over to them.
"Bad idea."
Parker broke the kiss and looked at Buffy. "Hey, mind your own business, dyke."
Buffy ignored him and looked at the girl. "He's a pick-up artist. He'll use you for sex and move on."
Buffy went and sat alone at the bar.
Jenny saw her and walked over. "You're not allowed to be at the bar."
Buffy sighed and started to get up.
"No, stay." Jenny got a glass mug and poured beer into it from a tap. She set it in front of Buffy. "House blend...on the house. It's called Black Frost."
"Thanks." Buffy picked up the mug and took a sip. "Mmm, toasted. Not bad."
"You okay?" Jenny asked her.
Buffy hesitated.
"Wanna tell me about it?"
"It's just...Parker's problem with intimacy turns out to be that he can't get enough of it."
Jenny nodded. "Oh, yeah, I know."
Buffy raised an eyebrow.
Jenny shrugged. "He tried picking me up."
"If he was tied and gagged and left in a cave that vampires happen to frequent, it wouldn't really be like I killed him, really."
Jenny stared at her. "Buffy-"
"I'm kidding...kinda." Buffy smiled and sipped her beer.
At the Bronze, Sandy was walking through the crowd with two drinks in her hands. Tara was sitting at a table. Sandy arrived at the table and set the drinks down.
Tara smiled. "Thanks."
"Uh-huh." Sandy sat down.
They looked at the stage, where the band Shy started performing. The lead singer, a young woman with short blonde hair, started singing. Sandy was entranced, and Tara noticed. It seemed like the woman was singing right to Sandy.
"Do you know her?" Tara asked.
Sandy had a hint of recognition. "No...but I think I saw her and the rest of the band walking outside a few weeks ago, back when you asked me to keep an eye on Buffy. I've never heard them play."
Things got more intense. Sandy was mesmerized by her. Tara thought she sounded okay.
At the pub, Buffy was chugging a beer. She had gotten the attention of some college guys and joined them at a table, so they could buy her beer, and Jenny wouldn't get in trouble.
"Chug, chug, chug, chug!" they cheered.
Buffy finished the beer and burped. Jenny eyed her while wiping down the bar.
"The thing that the modern-day man has failed to realize is that all the socioeconomical and psychological problems inherent in modern society can be solved by the judicious application of way too much beer."
"Black Frost is the only beer."
Buffy could barely follow the conversation. "My mother always said that beer was evil."
"Evil. Good. These are moral absolutes that predate the absolution of malt and fine hops. You see..." The guy paused. "Wait, where was I?"
Buffy shook her head. "I'm really not sure."
"Well, Thomas Aquinas and-"
"No!" the other guys shouted.
"There will be no Thomas Aquinas at this table."
"Keep your theology of providence to yourself, frat boy."
"I was just drawing a parallel between-"
"Beer. Had the earliest morality developed under the influence of beer, there would be no good or evil. There would just be kinda nice and pretty cool. Everything would be different."
"You guys really like to hear yourselves speak, don't ya?" Buffy asked them.
"All right we're losing her, guys."
"Say something interesting."
"Tell us about yourself."
"Yeah, what do you like?"
Buffy held up her empty mug. "Well, I don't hate this for a start."
That night, in Cordelia's new apartment, she was sleeping in her bed. Suddenly, "You Always Hurt the Ones You Love" by the Mills Brothers started playing on her radio, waking Cordelia up. Some of the drawers on her dresser opened and closed.
"What do you think you're doing here?" a voice whispered. "You never should have come."
A drawer slammed shut.
Cordelia sat up in her bed, scared. She turned off the radio and tried to turn on the lamp beside her bed. It didn't work. She reached for the glass of water on her night stand, and it began to boil. Her bed was beginning to levitate.
"I just knew this was too good to be true. I just knew it! I'm from Sunnydale; you're not scaring me, you know. No. You're not scaring me. You're not scaring me. Not one bit."
In the morning, Cordelia was still sitting up in her floating bed, rocking back and forth, hugging a pillow. Suddenly, the bed dropped to the floor.
In Buffy and Tara's dorm room, Tara walked out of the bathroom, naked. "Buff, have you heard of a girl named Veruca? Dresses like Faith, in a band."
Buffy was sitting by their small television, naked, watching Britney Spears' "(You Drive Me) Crazy" music video on MTV. "TV is a good thing. Bright colors. Music. Tiny little people."
"Are you okay?" Tara asked her.
"I'm suffering the afterness of a bad night of...badness."
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"I went to see Jenny at the pub. Then came beer. Lots and lots of beer. It's nice. Foamy. Comforting. It's just beer."
Tara wasn't sure how to handle it. "Cool, cool. Are you up for going to class?"
"Okay." Buffy got up to leave the dorm room, naked.
Tara stopped her. "Uh, getting dressed is mandatory. They kinda frown on nudity in class."
Buffy pouted. "Naked is nice."
Tara nodded. "Yes, naked is very nice, but in here, not out there."
After Cordelia got dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror. "Bright, shiny morning. Nothing bad here."
Cordelia stepped into the living room and pulled a chair out from the wall. The chair slid back. Cordelia pulled it out further, and this time the chair smashed back into the wall, and one of its legs broke. Cordelia backed away from it, and the curtain cord wrapped itself around her arm.
Cordelia jumped away with a scream. "You know what? I get it. You're a ghost. You're dead. Big accomplishment! Move on! You see a light anywhere? Go towards it, okay?"
Wind started to blow paper scraps in Cordelia's face.
"Ooh, cold wind, scary! What are you going to do? Chap me to death? What else have you got?"
There was a knock on the door, and Cordelia jumped.
"Cordelia, are you in there?" Angel asked from outside.
Cordelia stared at the door.
"Cordelia!"
Cordelia went and hesitantly unlocked and opened the door. Doyle and Angel were standing outside.
Angel held up a small potted cactus. "Cactus...housewarming present."
"Oh, hi. Thanks." Cordelia took it.
Doyle tried to come in.
Cordelia stopped him. "Look, I'm still getting it just the way I want. Maybe in a day or two, okay?"
Doyle pushed past her. "Place looks great. You worry too much." He saw the broken chair. "Don't know what you had against that chair, though."
Cordy looked at Angel still standing outside the door. "Oh, that's right, you can't come in."
Angel stepped inside.
"Wait! What about the rule?" Cordelia asked, surprised.
"You said, when you got a place, I was completely invited over."
"What?" Cordelia asked. "I didn't even have a place then. These rules are getting all fucked up."
She saw Doyle pull on the curtain cord.
"Oh, my God, don't touch that!" Cordelia yelled.
Doyle pulled the curtain closed. "I'm just closing these, so our boss doesn't burst into flames, if that's all right with you."
"Yeah, I guess."
Angel looked around the apartment. "This is nice. How about a tour?"
Cordelia pointed as she talked. "Uh-huh, this is the kitchen, living room. I'm going to knock out that wall. And that's about it. Oh, and thanks for the cactus."
A pair of scissors flew into the air behind Angel's back, and Cordelia caught it before anyone else noticed.
Angel looked around. "I can't believe you can afford this."
Cordelia set the cactus down on a little table and opened the drawer to drop the scissors in. Suddenly, the top of it bulged up in the shape of a face for a moment. Cordelia slammed the drawer shut. Angel and Doyle turned at the sound.
"I bet you two want lunch. There is this place down the street-"
One of the trophies on the mantel behind the guys flew at Doyle's neck, and Angel caught it.
"That thing's been doing that all morning. I think the...mantel is uneven."
"That thing lunged at me!" Doyle yelled.
Angel looked around. "What's going on?"
"Okay, you're right. It's not the mantel. It's a very, very bad trophy."
There was a moaning sound, and the word "Die" appeared on the wall behind Cordelia - as if blood was soaking through from the inside.
Doyle stared at it. "Dear sweet-"
Angel motioned for Cordelia to come over to them. "Come on."
"I am not giving up this apartment!" Cordelia vowed.
"It's haunted."
"It's rent-controlled!" Cordelia yelled.
Doyle gestured at the writing. "Cordy, it says 'die'!"
"Hey, maybe it's not done. Maybe it's 'diet'. That's friendly. A little judgmental, sure." Cordelia looked at Angel. "I'm not giving it up. It's perfect and beautiful. It's so me. I need it!"
Angel tried to lead her out. "You don't need this. It's just a place. You're more than that."
"How? How am I more than that?"
Doyle followed them. "We can cleanse it. Well, we can try, can we? Put the ghost to rest?"
"Can we?" Cordelia asked Angel.
"We can try. But we have to go now. We'll figure it out at the office."
"Okay."
The guys tried to push her out the door.
Cordelia turned to look into the apartment. "Listen good, Casper, you haven't won a thing here! I'll die before I give up the apartment, you hear me? I'll die!"
Angel and Doyle got her out and shut the door.
Later, in Psychology class, Professor Walsh was concluding a lecture. "Next class, we'll be moving on to personality types and disorders. For those of you who have done the reading, you already know-"
Buffy raised her hand.
"Yes?"
Buffy pointed at Tara. "She read the reading."
"Well, she'll have some time on her hands. As I was saying, we won't be able to cover it all in the class, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth knowing, and it doesn't mean it won't be on the midterm. Now, if I've been unclear in any way, speak now."
No one said anything.
"Good. Now, before you go, make sure you get the complete worksheet from the TA. Hand them to me at the start of the class on Monday."
Buffy saw a girl in the row in front of her eating a sandwich, and she grabbed it out of her hands and started to eat it.
"Buffy! Buffy, are you okay?" Tara asked, shocked and worried.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Buffy asked with her mouth full.
At the office, Doyle was on the computer. "Lots of stuff here about the building. Construction bids, city inspections."
Angel looked at the screen. "Tenants. We need people who lived there."
Cordelia poured some coffee. "And died there. That's the ingredients for ghosts, right?"
"Yeah, yeah. This isn't easy, you know?" Doyle asked.
Angel went to stand beside Cordelia. "You know, this really is just a place to live."
"No, it's more. It's beautiful,...and, if it goes away, it's like..."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm still getting punished."
"Punished."
Cordelia nodded.
"For what?"
"I don't know. For what I was? For everything I said in high school just because I could get away with it? And then it all ended, and I had to pay..." Cordelia brightened. "Oh, but this apartment... I could be me again. Punishment over; welcome back to your life! Like...Like I couldn't be that awful, if I get to have a place like that? It's just like you!"
Angel nodded. "Working for redemption."
Cordelia frowned, confused. "I...I meant because you used to have that mansion."
"Hey, I found something! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a death."
Cordelia and Angel walked over to Doyle.
"First person to ever live in your place...Mrs. Maude Pearson."
"How did you get that?" Angel asked.
"Name carved over the entrance of the building...Pearson Arms. I checked the obits for Pearson; we got lucky. Turns out Maude Pearson built the place and took a unit there, too. And in 1946, she dropped dead of a heart attack in Cordelia's living room...at age...fifty-seven."
"That's it!" Cordelia exclaimed. "That's her."
Angel looked at her. "I don't know. It's not a violent death. I mean...ghosts usually-"
"It's her; I know it. That place has that weird little-old-lady smell,...like...like violets and Aspercreme."
Doyle shook his head. "No, they didn't find the body for three weeks. So it wasn't violets there at the end, I'm thinking."
"This is easy. Little old lady ghost, probably hanging around because she thinks she left the iron on. Let's get a nice cleansing spell and do this thing!" Cordelia declared.
Angel shook his head. "Well, this is not an easy spell. I mean...hawthorn berries and lungwort and bile. We need bile. I don't know if we can get everything."
Doyle stood up. "I can. I know this guy in Koreatown; he does these spells all the time. I can get the stuff from him."
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Oh, goody! Another one of Doyle's guys. Tell me, is this the same guy that helped me find my poltergeist-delicious apartment?"
"Doyle, go! Get what you need."
Doyle left.
Angel looked at Cordelia. "I'm gonna try and get some more information. Maybe Kate can find something. You wait here."
Cordelia sighed. "Little old lady ghost. How come Patrick Swayze is never dead when you need him?"
At the pub that night, Buffy was sitting with the guys and watching one of them pour beer into her glass mug.
Buffy was smiling in delight. "This good. Ooh, good enough."
"Still, more is good."
"Yeah. Foamy."
"You should come to our class on big thinking. It's good."
They all laughed.
"I like girls."
Buffy laughed. "You stupid."
"No, you stupid."
"Smelly head."
One guy pushed another guy over. They all laughed. At the bar, Jenny looked on, concerned.
In the office of Angel Investigations, the phone rang. Cordelia let the answering machine pick it up.
"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless. If that's you, leave a message."
"Cordelia, are you there? Look, I think we can end this whole thing."
Cordelia picked up the phone. "I'm here. About time you called. You got something?"
"Meet me at the apartment, and we'll figure out what to do."
"Okay." Cordelia hung up the phone and left the office.
At the pub, everyone was gone but the group that Buffy was with.
"Stupid."
"No, you stupid."
Buffy shoved two of the guys. "No, you."
They all laughed.
Jenny put some music on the jukebox.
Buffy shoved a guy. "You."
They all laughed.
"Hey!" Buffy stood up and ran over to Jenny, confused. She banged on the jukebox and laughed. "Thing. Like it."
Jenny looked at Buffy, worried. "It's time to go home, Buffy. Hang out here for just a bit. I'll finished cleaning up, and then I'll walk you."
"Want more singing. Want more beer."
"No, I've cut you off."
"Did it hurt?" Buffy asked her.
"Okay, that's it, c'mon." Jenny took her by the arm and started leading her to the door.
Buffy struggled for a moment. Finally, she walked to the door with her. "Ow, oh, want beer. Like beer. Beer good."
"Beer bad. Bad, bad beer. What the fuck am I saying?" Jenny asked herself. "Buffy, I'm taking you home, and you're going to bed."
"You pretty. Fuck Buffy?" Buffy asked her, grinning.
"Tara's you're girlfriend. Ta-ra."
They left the pub.
Jenny returned to the pub. The guys were getting more apelike.
Jenny walked over to clean the table and get paid for the drinks. "All right, time to pay up and go home, guys."
They threw money at her. One guy left to go to the washroom. Jenny continued cleaning and picked up a wad of cash from the table. She heard banging in the washroom.
"Hey, are you all right in there?" Jenny called.
The guy burst out of the washroom. He had become a Neanderthal. He conked Jenny over the head with a club. She fell to the floor but remained conscious.
The Neanderthal guy got on top of her and started sniffing her. Jenny kicked him in the nuts and then landed an uppercut to his chin. He groaned in pain, and she got off him and to her feet. The three other frat guys were afraid and backed away.
"Oh, God."
"Let's get outta here!"
The Neanderthal frat guy yelled in Jenny's face, and Jenny screamed back primally. The other frat guys began to devolve into Neanderthals as well. They backed her into a corner. Jenny pulled out her Zippo lighter and lit it. The Neanderthals were all afraid of the fire and backed away.
"Fire bad."
"Fire pretty."
"Fire angry!" Jenny yelled.
They all ran away and out the door in fear.
Jenny closed the door behind them. "Jack! Jack! We've got a problem."
Her boss came out of the back room, carrying a case of Black Frost beer.
"The guys, they..." Jenny paused. "They're..." She paused again, considered for a moment, and shrugged. "Some of the patrons are turning into cavemen."
"They've had it comin'." Jack put the case on the counter. "You know, I've been taking abuse from snot-nosed kids for twenty years. They're always coming in here with their snotty attitude, drinking their fruity little microbrews and spouting out some philosophy like it means a damn thing. Thinking they're different than us."
"They are now."
"They ain't. That's the great thing about beer. It makes all men the same."
"Why are we talking about beer? The guys are..." Jenny paused in realization. "The beer."
Jack grinned. "Neat, huh? My brother-in-law's a warlock. He showed me how to do it."
"Your brother-in-law wouldn't happen to be named Ethan Rayne, would he?" Jenny asked.
"Yeah. You know him?" Jack asked.
Jenny rolled her eyes. "This plot stinks of him. Uh, how much beer would you say a person would need to consume before they start seriously questing for fire?"
"Relax. It will wear off in a day or so."
"In a day or so, someone is going to get killed." Jenny headed for the door.
At the police station, Kate was sipping a cup of coffee in front of the computer. "I wish I could be more help."
Angel was pacing. "It's okay. Just knowing the kind of things that didn't happen is a help. You know, eliminating the possibilities."
"Now you're talking like a detective."
"I am a detective."
"Well, you see, the thing about detectives is that they have resumes and business licenses and last names. Pop stars and popes, those are the one-name guys."
"You got me. I'm a pope."
Kate laughed, then got up as a guy came by to hand her a folder.
"Here you go."
Kate looked at the folder. "Davis, you are beautiful! Thank you."
Davis left.
Kate sat back down. "Let's take a look."
"Jeez, I wasn't sure you had records that old."
"Neither was I. Let's see. Maude Pearson. There was an investigation into the death. Okay, this guy, Detective Randall, he thought the death was suspicious. The M.E. called it a heart attack, but it seems there were problems with the son. He was...Dennis Pearson. He lived with her. They argued a lot."
"What about?"
"A girl. His fiancée. His mom didn't like her. And Dennis skips town with her the day that mom drops dead. What a coincidence. The cops never caught him."
"Unavenged murder."
"Sounds like."
"There haven't been any deaths in the same apartment since then."
"You saw me check. No murders, not even domestic dispute calls."
"Not murders. Suicides."
Kate stared at him.
"There's a kind of...the kind of killer that does that."
"Makes it look like a suicide." After a moment, Kate turned back to her computer and started to type. "You know there are always signs."
Angel leaned over her shoulder and pointed at the screen. "There."
"Margo Dressner...1959...and Jenny Kim, 1965. Natalie Davis, five years ago. All in the same apartment. This doesn't make sense."
"I gotta make a call."
Jenny and Tara walked through the halls of Buffy's dorm.
"How is she?" Jenny asked.
"Well, she seemed asleep by the time that I left for the library." Tara unlocked and opened the door to their room.
They saw Buffy in her room, naked, drawing cave pictures on the walls. She looked at them with a wild look.
Tara looked at the brown drawings. "Where'd she get brown markers?"
Jenny sniffed. "Who says it's markers?"
Tara frowned in horror.
Buffy climbed on a chair, rode around on it, and then fell on the floor. She went to the TV. "Want people. Where people go?"
Tara walked over to her. "The TV is off."
"Want!" Buffy hit the TV. "Want people."
Jenny looked at Tara. "She doesn't appear to be in any danger. Maybe you should stay with her."
Buffy sniffed Tara. "Girl smells nice." She grabbed her and sniffed her.
"I think I need to track down the fun boys somewhat pronto. Jack said the effects of the beer would wear off-"
"Beer?" Buffy looked at Jenny, a primal look in her eyes. "Buffy want beer."
"You can't have beer."
Buffy gave Jenny an evil look. "Want...beer."
Tara looked at Jenny. "Jenny, don't make Cave Slayer unhappy."
Buffy faked a punch at Jenny. "Buffy strong."
"Yes, Buffy strong."
"Buffy get beer."
"Buffy get-"
Buffy tackled her, pushed Tara out of the way, and ran out of the room.
"Jenny!" Tara yelled.
Jenny got to her feet. "I'm fine. Just get her."
"Which way?"
Jenny pointed in one direction. "Um, check down there. We have to find her before someone gets hurt."
Tara started running. "Amy and Harmony picked a hell of a night to go out clubbing!"
She ran downstairs and outside.
Tara looked around and ran across campus. "Buffy! Buffy!" She spotted her and approached her.
Buffy was confused but didn't back away.
"Buffy, sweetie-"
Buffy jumped away from her.
"Sweetie, I wanna help you. Is there any part of Buffy still in there?" Tara asked.
Buffy started to sniff. They turned and saw smoke coming from the pub.
"Shit!" Tara yelled.
"Fire bad!" Buffy ran towards the pub.
Tara followed her.
Buffy broke in by kicking in the front door but couldn't get through the flames. She saw a fire extinguisher and got it but was too far gone to know what to do with it, so she just threw it into the fire. Then she saw the Neanderthals and some girls gathered in a corner, and something clicked inside. She jumped over the flames and to them.
Tara ran inside, trying to freeze out the fire with some magic. "Buffy?!" She ran back outside, because there was too much smoke. "Where the hell is Jenny?"
"Bad. Bad." Buffy saw windows. She jumped up and worked her way across some pipes until she could bust the window open.
The Neanderthals took the cue and started knocking things over, so they could make a stairway to the window. They all ran out, and the girls followed them. Jenny and Tara helped the girls outside.
Buffy saw Parker. He was awake and coughing. He didn't see Buffy, who was looking at a big stick with a lot of interest.
"Oh, God. Help me. I can't breathe." He saw her. "Buffy. Oh, God, what do we do?"
Buffy clubbed him over the head with the stick. She grabbed his arm and dragged him up the makeshift stairway. She shoved him out the window. Neither Jenny nor Tara made any great attempt to catch him. Buffy climbed out after him and jumped to the ground.
Cordelia unlocked the door to her apartment and opened it. She walked inside and looked around the dark and empty apartment.
"Cordelia, I'm in the bedroom."
Cordelia stepped into the bedroom. "Angel?" She turned around and jumped back from the specter of Maude Pearson.
"You got my call."
Cordelia ran out of the bedroom and to the door. The apartment door wouldn't open. She flew backwards through the air. As she picked herself up, Maude was standing there.
"Poor thing. You just don't fit in around here, do you? Too bad you wouldn't leave my son alone."
"Your...Your son?" Cordelia asked, confused. "Whoever you think you're talking to, it's not me. My name is Cordelia."
"Oh, that's the name of a cheap small-town tramp trying to sound better than she is. You're not good enough for my boy. This will never be your home."
"This is my home. My friends will come here."
"You don't have any friends. Why would anybody care about you? Nobody really cares. You don't deserve to live here. You don't deserve anything."
"I will leave. Please."
"Oh, I don't think so."
A chandelier crashed to the floor behind Cordelia.
"You're worthless." Maude pushed Cordelia back. "You've never been kind."
A cable snaked out from where the chandelier used to hang and snaked around Cordelia's neck.
"You've never been smart. You're a user."
The cord went back up into the ceiling, pulling Cordelia up with it.
"You're nothing. Everyone would be glad if you were dead."
Cordelia tried to keep the cord from choking her. "No."
"Oh, come on. If anyone really cared about you, would you be here? People let you end up here, because they were happy to see you fail."
Cordelia went limp, and Maude disappeared. The door was broken open, and Angel and Doyle charged in. Angel lifted her up, and Doyle got the noose off her neck. Angel laid her on the sofa as she began to cough.
Cordelia was panting. "The furniture and...and the wall and the blood, she's doing it...she is doing it all. She'll be back. She's stronger than us. She knows me."
"We can stop her."
Cordelia started crying. "No, no, we can't stop her."
"She's made a connection with you, right? She thinks you're someone,...someone she blames for her murder. Cordelia, answer me."
"I...I'm...I'm taking her son away. She thinks I'm taking her son."
"That's good. Her son was the one that killed her. All right, you're playing a role in her delusion; that gives you power. You're the one that can stop her." Angel looked at Doyle. "Start the binding circle; I'll find the spell."
Cordelia kept crying while Doyle laid out a circle with the stuff from the box. There was paper and stuff flying around as Angel flipped through an old book.
"Bring the truth into the light. Let the villain be revealed that a soul can take its rightful place for eternity."
Bigger stuff started to fly around.
"Here she comes. She knows what we're doing."
"We need Cordelia now."
"Cordy, get up!" Doyle yelled.
"Adduce veritatum in lucem. Accipitat laura suam requiatam reposcant anima suum regnum. Cordelia, stand in the circle and strike at its center."
"What?" Cordelia asked, sobbing.
Angel grabbed her by the shoulder. "Damn it. Do you know what it means? The ghost is in contact with you; she's given you that."
"They don't care about you. They want you to fail. They know you're a tarted-up little whore."
Angel handed the book to Doyle without looking away from Cordelia. "Doyle, chant."
Doyle took the book. "Oh, man, Latin. One of those dead languages you always mean to learn."
"V sounds like W; say each vowel separately." Angel grabbed Cordelia and shook her. "You do know what to do. You can stop all this. Do it."
Cordelia pushed him away, crying. "I can't."
"Look at you. Are you gonna let her do this to you?" Angel grabbed her again. "Damn it. You're Cordelia Chase. Are you just going to lie there like a weakling? Get off your ass and be tough!"
"I can't! I can't!" Cordelia cried, sobbing.
"You're the biggest pain I have ever seen. Do it now!"
Cordelia kept crying.
Angel looked around. "This isn't going to work."
"And it's getting dodgy in here."
"We've got to get her out of here. This isn't safe. Now. Let's go."
Angel and Doyle grabbed Cordelia and headed for the door.
The door opened, and there were a human and two Kailiff demons pointing guns at them.
"No one's going anywhere."
The three moved into the apartment.
The human looked at the destruction. "What's going on?"
Angel looked at one of the demons. "You were going to let him pay."
"I lied."
Maude appeared behind the three thugs. "No more people!"
"What is this?" the human asked.
The head demon never took his eyes off Angel. "Ignore her. It's just a ghost."
"Get out!" Maude yelled.
Light bulbs were blowing up everywhere; stuff was flying through the air. Doyle pulled Cordelia out of the way as the human shot at Maude. The bullet went through her and broke a tile surrounding the fireplace.
"You broke it!" Maude yelled.
Angel started to fight the head demon as the human turned and ran. The other demon pulled Doyle up and threatened him with his gun.
"Look, I'll pay. Really! I've got a fin in my wallet right here."
"This is my house!" Maude yelled.
The kitchen drawer opened, and the butcher knives started to hover. Angel punched the head demon, and he went down.
Angel looked over and saw the knives. "Knives!"
Doyle ducked, and the knives buried themselves in the other demon's front. Cordelia was cowering against a wall. The head demon got back up and threw Angel over the sofa. Cordelia went flying backwards into the bedroom. The door slammed shut on her.
Cordelia was crying. "I'll leave. I'm sorry your son killed you. You can have the apartment. Just let me go."
"It's too late for that."
"No."
"You know what happens next. Your friends are dirty. They ruined my nice home. I knew you were trouble right from the start."
Cordelia dropped to the floor and sobbed.
"I'm surprised that my son didn't smell the stench of poverty and failure on you. I can."
"I'm sorry."
"You better be sorry, you stupid little bitch."
Cordelia stopped crying and looked slowly up at Maude. "I'm a bitch."
"Take off the bed sheets; make a noose. Go on. It'll all be over soon."
Cordelia got slowly up and looked Maude in the eye. "I'm not a sniveling, whiny little crybaby. I'm the nastiest girl in Sunnydale history. I take shit from no one."
"You are going to make yourself a noose and put it around-"
"Back off! Poligrip. You think you're bad? Being all mean and haunty? Picking on poor, pathetic Cordy?" Cordelia asked her. "Well, get ready to haul your wrinkly translucent ass out of this place, because, lady, the bitch is back."
"Do you think that I'm going to take that from trash like you?"
"I tell you what I think. I think that you're going to pack your little ghost bags and get the hell out of my house!" Cordelia screamed.
There was a flash, and Maude got thrown backwards through the wall. All of the stuff flying through the air suddenly fell down. In the resulting quiet, Cordelia opened the door and walked out of the bedroom.
"What happened? You did it!" Doyle exclaimed.
Cordelia shrugged. "Yeah, well, she pissed me off."
Angel looked at her. "Or maybe you found her center."
Cordelia suddenly felt a presence within her. She looked up, a woman possessed.
"Cordy? What's wrong?" Doyle asked.
Cordelia picked up a metal lampstand and began to demolish the wall that she had been wanting to take out all along.
"Cordelia!" Angel yelled.
Cordelia kept hitting at it and finally managed to make a hole that revealed a skeleton bound with ropes. Maude screamed.
Cordelia was suddenly provided with a vision of the past. Maude was bricking up her son Dennis in the wall. The radio was playing "You Always Hurt the Ones You Love" by the Mills Brothers.
"Look what you're making me do, Dennis."
"Mom, stop it."
"How are you going to leave now, huh? How are you going to marry that streetwalker now. You are a nothing without me."
"Mom, don't do this. Please. This is crazy."
After Maude bricked him up, she put the plaster finish on.
"Oh, God. Mom, I can't breathe. Please. Mom, let me out. Please, Mom. I'll be good. I promise. I won't leave. Mom, please let me out. I can't breathe. Let me out!"
Maude hung a picture on the finished wall. "This hurts me more than it hurts you. Goodbye, Dennis." Maude gasped and collapsed with a heart attack.
Maude's ghost stared at the skeleton of her son. A white light oozed out of the skeleton.
Doyle stared at it. "Dennis, I presume, and probably not too happy with his mom."
"Dennis, it was for your own good. I had to do it. She would have made your life miserable. I'm sorry!"
The white light coalesced and headed for her.
"Please! Please!"
There was a great gust of wind, and the white light obliterated Maude's specter. Then there was silence.
Angel walked up behind Cordelia and put a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"
Cordelia took a moment to compose herself. "I knew I didn't like that wall!"
Later, outside the pub, Jenny stood beside a bench where Tara sat, and Buffy hovered over her protectively. Jenny had found a towel for Buffy to wrap herself in and pinned it closed, but it was a struggle to keep Buffy from removing it.
"Did you guys have enough fun for one night?" Jenny teased.
Tara nodded. "Yes. Please."
"Buffy tired."
Tara looked over at a police van. "Anyways, I think that the boys in the van are contained for the time being."
Buffy walked up to the van and saw the Neanderthals inside. She banged on the windows, getting their attention.
Parker walked up to her, alive and well. "Buffy. Buffy, I-I dunno how to say this. I'm sorry for how I treated you before. It was wrong of me, and I'm sorry. You were great tonight, really. I might not deserve this, but do you think that you could forgive me?"
Buffy whacked him with the club again and knocked him out. Jenny and Tara gathered around and looked at him. Buffy walked back towards the van, but Tara guided her away.
Cordelia was ensconced on the sofa in her new apartment, holding her phone's handset to her ear. "God, Aura. I can't believe I missed your calls! It's that incompetent girl at work. But things are going great."
"Oh? Like what?" Aura asked.
"Well, my new apartment for one thing. Celebrities are practically on top of me. Oh, Steve Paymer - that's Dave Paymer's brother - lives right down the hall."
"Who?"
"Oh, you'd know him if you saw him. And my view, it's amazing!"
"Are you living with anyone?"
"Yeah, I have a roommate, but it's cool; I never see him."
Her can of root beer slid away from her on the table.
Cordelia put her hand over the receiver. "Hey, hey...Phantom Dennis, put that back."
The can slid back to her.
Cordelia removed her hand from the receiver. "All in all, it's working out great."
The TV turned on.
Cordelia covered up the receiver again. "Dennis, when I'm on the phone, that's quiet time."
The TV turned off.
"Thanks." Cordelia took her hand off the receiver. "Sorry. So where were we? Tell me who's wearing what in Sunnydale."
"Well, I can tell you who's not wearing anything. Tonight, I saw Buffy running around naked on the UC Sunnydale campus."
"No! Well, she never did have any taste." Cordelia laughed. "She is so nasty."