TRAGIC FARCE: A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS
Act Two: Brand New Way(continued)

Buffy opened her eyes and sighed as she felt the heat clinging stickily to her skin. She looked longingly at the pale slope of Angel’s room-temperature back, remembering how good a certain undead blond had felt draped over her in hot weather but didn’t try to wake him. Angel tended to wake up cranky instead of romantic. He liked to sleep in; he was a typical creature of the night that way, not like... He didn’t so much as twitch as she slid out from between the black silk sheets of the bed and headed for the bathroom.

She dressed quietly, wondering why her head was so full of Spike lately. She finally had what she’d dreamed of for years: Angel. She went to bed every night with Angel, fought beside Angel, had incredible sex with Angel, she was with Angel every single day. Spike was gone and she didn’t need him anyway. She was happy.

Not that there weren’t problems. For one thing, she couldn’t stay in L.A. forever. Xander had moved into Revello; he wouldn’t mind staying but the Hellmouth was still her responsibility and the summer quiet wouldn’t last forever. Besides she couldn’t see Dawn leaving all her friends behind in Sunnydale and settling in happily at the Hyperion. Dawn never had liked Angel and she couldn’t see Angel dealing with a frequently sulky 15 year old. Though it might be fun to watch, she thought as she headed downstairs with a small smile on her face.

On her way to the kitchen she caught a glimpse of Cordelia sitting on the little stone bench in the center of the hotel garden. Buffy slowed then stopped to look at her. She was there almost every morning; Buffy guessed it was her way of easing into the day. Like Angel’s Tai Chi that he did as soon as he woke up in the afternoon and sheesh, don’t ever try to talk to him before he’d finished. Maybe she should come up with some kind of morning thing for herself. Yoga maybe.

She’d thought about joining Cordelia before but hadn’t had the nerve. In the two weeks she’s been here they’ve haven’t really talked. Not that they were ever friends, but if they’re going to work together Buffy thought they should at least try for civil. Especially since they’re the only girls in the organization.

A few minutes later Buffy stepped down into the garden, holding a cup of coffee in each hand. Cordelia was sitting with her eyes closed, her silky dark hair and golden skin gleaming in the morning light. She might not wear the latest fashions anymore, or have her hair styled on Melrose, but Cordelia Chase still had the power to make Buffy feel skinny and plain without trying.

For the first time Buffy noticed the polished marker next to the bench. It read: “Here Lies Groosalug, son of Pomegranate, A Mighty Warrior.” She shivered, remembering her own gravestone hidden deep in the Sunnydale woods. Groosalug – now she remembered: he’d been Cordelia’s boyfriend. Oh. Suddenly she felt like an intruder. She was about to retreat when Cordelia sighed and opened her eyes. “Buffy?”

“Hi. Um. Coffee?”

“Thanks.” She accepted the cup graciously. “Have a seat.” Cordelia’s smile seemed genuine as she made room. Maybe she really had changed, like Angel kept insisting. She seemed almost subdued these days; no tactless commentary, no unasked for advice. It was unnerving. The sun’s heat was really beginning to beat down on the Hyperion’s garden. Buffy took a sip of her coffee wishing it was iced.

“Groosalug, he was your boyfriend? That’s a weir… unusual name.”

“Yeah, he came from the same dimension as Lorne.”

“Lorne? The tall green guy? With red eyes and horns?” Cordelia might have changed a lot since Sunnydale, and beauty really was only skin deep, but still…

“Uh huh. He got the K’chenko bush too.” She gestured at a bush covered with purple-spotted– and now that Buffy looked at it -- really weird-looking flowers. “It’s traditional for one to be planted on a warrior’s grave.”

“So they were like, related?”

“Who? Lorne and Groo? No. Same dimension, different species. Well, mostly. There’s a picture of him on my desk.”

“You must miss him a lot.”

Cordelia looked pensively into her cup. “Yeah, I do. Groo was wonderful. The perfect Champion, brave, true, strong and a sweetie; I hope he’s happy wherever he is now.” She brightened a little. “According to Lorne since he died in battle he’ll go straight to the Warrior’s Home: all the grog you can drink, and hot and cold running comshuck and epic contests against worthy foes every day.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Not like that where you were huh?” Cordelia said quietly. It took Buffy a moment to answer.

“No. It was really quiet. But nice.”

“Do you miss it a lot?”

“Not too much. Not any more,” Buffy said, happy that was the truth, finally. “It was really hard at first, but now—Life’s good. Besides, I know I get to go back someday. If I don’t screw up.”

“So don’t screw up,” Cordelia advised.

Buffy laughed.

Jealous

Shining window, soft yellow light. She plays a game, flirting with it, admiring the way it slipped along her skin. Hoping he’ll notice. But he never does. He’s haunted now, so doesn’t want her anymore, wicked boy.

Thinks he can send her away, forget about her.

She watches him, talking to his dream girl. His gauzy trull, dancing all around him. She should be gone, six feet deep and fast asleep. Not chattering away, distracting him, keeping him from her.

Her Daddy’s lost. Gone away and can’t come back, never ever. They’ve had their last dance. No Daddy and no Knight for her. All gone. Lost. Gone away where she can’t touch them.

He’s still here, so close. She could break the glass, but wicked magic would still keep her out.

So another time she waited in the hallway, listening to him inside. A line of light spills under the door and she lies down to see if she can see anything. She can taste him on the chilled air that leaks through. Sweet boy. He could be her new Daddy. She knows he’d hurt her properly. Perhaps if she knocked and hid he would play hide and seek with her.

“Miss? Are you alright?”

He’s nice, tall and smooth-skinned and so very young. He looked delicious. Miss Edith approves.

“I felt a little faint.” He helps her up. Helps her across the hall, to his own apartment, talking about doctors and silly numbers. So kind of him.

He’s startled when she kisses him and drops the phone. Such a polite boy, swelling obediently under her hand and his blood is sweet and there’s so much of it fills her tummy nice and full. She kisses him gently on the forehead and puts two pennies on his eyes.

This place is just like the other. If she called through the mirror would he come?

Date Night

“Good?” Cordelia asked, pivoting so her audience could appreciate the full effect.

“Really, really, good,” Buffy assured her. “He’s doomed.”

Some things never changed Buffy thought as she admired Cordelia who had changed from her everyday ghostbuster identity into Queen C, the dating Slayer. Not that Cordelia was ever less than attractive even in slimed sweats and bad hair, but when she dressed to impress – whoa. Buffy had no plans for going for the toaster herself, but you’d have to be not just straight but blind not to notice that Cordelia was hella hot. Maybe she should take a picture for Willow. And maybe one for Xander too.

Cordelia beamed. “Thanks. I’m kinda rusty. Before Groo came I can’t remember the last time I went out. This isn’t exactly dating central. All I meet is the helpless and demons.”

“Standing. Right. Here.” Lorne bitched from the check-in desk where he was reading Cordelia’s copy of Paris Vogue.

“So, this guy. Where’d you meet him?”

Cordelia grinned. “It was such a total cliché. I met him in the produce section at Albertson’s. He asked me about the golden tomatoes and I pretended like I actually had a clue while we went over the essentials: him single professional male, me cute single female, blah blah blah. Exchanged numbers, talked, made a date for tonight.”

“So you’re going out for dinner?”

“Yep. He’s picking me up here in about – whoa 10 minutes. So, I could use a little more affirmation. Lorne?”

Obligingly he looked up and studied her. Then he whistled. “Sweetcheeks, you’ve really got it going on tonight. You’ll have him barking and rolling over.”

“Yeah, Cordy, you’re looking pretty fly. Whassup?” Gunn asked as he emerged from the elevator with Angel. They’d been down in the basement, training. Buffy noticed, not for the first time that Gunn was looking at Cordelia like a cat watching a can of tuna.

“Cordy’s got a date,” Buffy announced happily.

They all winced at the clatter when Angel dropped the knife he was holding.

“Date? With who?” Gunn didn’t sound happy.

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “If it’s any of your business, I have a date with a nice normal guy named Jeff.”

“Where did you meet this guy? Has he been checked out?” Angel said.

“Yeah,” Gunn said. “Cuz just because he’s got a nice car and a good haircut don’t mean…”

Cordelia put her hand out. “He’s. Fine,” she snapped. “And he’ll be here real soon so if you could all clear out, that would be nice.”

Gunn shrugged. Buffy watched Angel’s face close up and felt a tiny surge of irritation. She was getting tired of the tension between the two of them. She knew it was hard. Angelus had killed people close to her too and she remembered how hard it was to make the distinction between Angel and the demon. Still, Cordelia needed to get over it already. Or, go somewhere and start over somewhere without so many bad memories. The visions would be a problem, but she could always phone them in or something. Maybe now that they were almost friends she’d talk to Cordelia about it.

Buffy walked up to Angel and gave him a supportive hug. “Angel? Are you O.K.?”

Angel looked down at her, she still couldn’t read his dark eyes even after all this time. He sighed. “Just tired. I need a shower.”

“Yeah, me too,” Gunn said.

“’Bye guys,” Cordelia said in a conciliatory voice.

Lorne was the only one who answered. “Night sweetie. Have fun.”

~*~

Gunn parked his truck across the street from the Topsy-Turvy Tavern and sat there listening to the engine cool. He’d known about the demon bar for years. In fact, he and his crew used to set traps for drunk and unwary vamps in an alley a few blocks away. Never thought he’d be drinking in it, but tonight he needed someplace he could do some serious drinking. Someplace he wouldn’t be surrounded by people; warm, tasty, people that he might forget he wasn’t supposed to bite if he got drunk enough.

The shit wasn’t getting any easier. No matter where he went there were people, smelling like heaven on a plate, tempting him to sin. He didn’t know how the hell Angel did it all those years. It’s not a damn thing like being hungry. He’d been hungry plenty of times, had gone for days with a dull ache in his gut living on potatoes and water; but he’d never in his whole life been so hungry that he couldn’t hold anything else in his brain including his name.

He walked into the dimly lit and stinky bar and was suddenly the center of attention. He stared back until the vamps and other demons got bored and went back to their own business. As far as he could tell that mostly involved getting drunk and talking shit with their buddies. Just like any other bar. Nothing he could see going on that he needed to concern himself about.

He sat down at the bar and stared at the big froggy-looking guy polishing glasses behind the bar before he remembered his manners and ordered a Bud with a whiskey back. He toasted himself in the empty mirror and tossed the shot down. Tonight, he wanted to turn off his damn brain, especially the part that kept thinking angry stupid thoughts about Cordy. About Cordy on a date. About snapping this Jeff dude’s neck and draining him dry.

He gulped down the beer and signaled the bartender for another round. He knew it was sick and wrong to be thinking about Cordy like that. Nothing was ever gonna happen with him and her. He knew that. She didn’t even think about him like that. Another weird vampire talent, being able to tell for sure. Would have come in handy back in high school.

Bad idea to fuck around with a friend anyway. Especially when she was pretty much the only one he had left. Angel was still distant; every time he looked at him Gunn knew he was feeling guilty about what had happened. Lorne was spending a lot of time away from the hotel lately, trying to find a new location for Caritas. Buffy made his skin crawl, which might be about her being the Slayer, and she really didn’t have time for anyone but Angel anyway. He really missed Wes; almost as much as he missed Fred – but no point in going there.

“Buy you a drink?”

The voice was semi-familiar; by the time he’d placed it she was already settled on the stool next to him. She leaned in close and he was slapped in the face by a combination of expensive perfume and the warm sweet stuff pulsing underneath. He leaned back as far as he could and gave her his best bad mofo from da ghetto look.

“Knew this was a dump, but if I knew they let in lawyers I woulda picked someplace else to hang.”

“Not very friendly, are you? I think you need another drink.” Lilah caught the bartender’s eye and pointed to Gunn’s glass. “A bottle of whatever he’s drinking and another glass.” Froggy glared at her. Humans tended to have a hard time getting served at the Topsy-Turvy. Gunn was impressed when Lilah raised a precisely engineered eyebrow and showed a gleaming sliver of smile and the bartender blinked and decided to make an exception.

“Friendly?” Gunn asked. “How many times’ve you tried to kill me and my crew, bitch?”

Lilah poured both of them a drink before she answered. “Never, in point of fact. Killing Angel is the last thing we want. He’s got a featured part in far too many prophecies. The thing with the seer was just business. Face it Mr. Gunn if we’d wanted you dead… of course, that’s a bit redundant now…”

“Go to hell.” Gunn grabbed the bottle she’d paid for and took a good long swig.

“Ooh, sensitive?” She dragged her fingers along Gunn’s arm, leaving trails of fire on his skin. If he wasn’t half-drunk he’d knock her ass off that stool and go home. Too bad he was half-drunk and horny as a herd of billy goats besides. Evil lawyer bitch smelled even better than she looked, which was pretty damn good. Little bit hard in the face, but nothin’ wrong with that body. Curves in all the right places. Pretty poison.

He leaned in to check for the scent of almonds. Naw. Just that damned perfume and the woman under it. Nice. Her hand was on his knee now and working its way up. Kinda bold. Felt nice. Felt downright professional. He grabbed her chin and stared into her face. Her eyes went wide, mouth open just a little, like she wanted him to kiss her. He didn’t trust her and she oughtn’t to trust him. Miss Lilah must not know where she is. He could bite into that long, expensively moisturized throat and drain her without anyone in the place giving him more than a high five.

She jerked away from him, like she’d read his mind; he let her go. Then he realized she was looking over his shoulder at something.

“Long way from home aren’t we?” Gunn turned around with a grin he didn’t bother trying to hide.

“Wesley, hey.” Gunn really wanted to believe Wes meant that smile.

“Hullo Gunn. A word of advice: if you’re intending to date Miss Morgan I’d recommend getting an antivenin kit.”

Lilah’s face went from pretty to pretty scary in 0.6 seconds. “What’s the matter Wesley, jealous?”

Wesley stared at her for a long moment. Then he snorted and burst out laughing. Looking at Lilah’s face Gunn figured it was a good thing there was no way she could have fit a gun in that tiny little purse of hers. When Wes continued to laugh she slid off the stool and marched out every demon in her path giving way.

“Oh, thank God she left,” Wes said wiping his eyes. “I’m wearing new underwear,” he added in a funny voice. Gunn wondered briefly what that was about.

“Hey, man. How you been doing?”

“I’m fine. Yourself?”

“O.K.”

“Ah.” He looked at the half-empty bottle of whiskey. “Yes, I’m quite familiar myself with this particular variant of O.K.”

Gunn looked slightly sheepish as he tried to explain. “It’s been a tough week.” To his relief Wesley didn’t push him.

“How is Cordelia?” he asked. “When I called the hospital all they would tell me was that she’d been discharged.”

“She’s O.K. Better than she was. She went out on a date tonight.”

“Good for her.”

Listen, Wes I gotta say something.” Wesley looked apprehensive but didn’t look away. “Just…thanks.”

“Sending Lilah on her way was a pleasure.”

Gunn put a hand on his shoulder. “No man, I mean for everything. For saving all our asses.”

“Better late than never?” Wesley said drily. Gunn winced.

“Man, I’m sorry. Wanted to thank you before, but I didn’t figure you’d want to see me after what you saw me do to Linwood.”

Wes stared at him like he’d grown another head. “Gunn,” he said finally “I never thought of holding that against you. How could I? I delivered him to you and stood by while you killed him.”

“Not like you could’ve stopped me.”

“I could have at least tried. I could have restored your soul first. But I wanted him dead as much as you did. For Fred and the others. He deserved everything you did to him.”

Gunn shook his head. “I’m sorry about the way I killed him, but I ain’t sorry he’s dead. That motherfucker needed to die.” He looked away from Wesley. “So, we’re O.K.?”

Wesley was silent for a moment, then the tight lines at the side of his mouth dissolved in a smile. “Yes, I believe we are. Bartender – do you have any decent whiskey on the premises?”

~*~

It had been longer than Cordelia wanted to think about since she’d been on a date. She’d been nervous when she saw Jeff walk into the Hyperion’s lobby, afraid her skills might have deteriorated, but she stood straight and gave him the big Queen C smile and when she saw the look on his face she realized it was like riding a bicycle. You never really forgot how.

She felt an itch on the back of her neck as they walked out together and she knew Angel was watching. She refused to look back.

Jeff was an all-around nice guy. Good-looking in a very average way, medium brown hair nicely styled, blue eyes, just over six feet tall, went to the gym twice a week. He unlocked her door, but trusted her to get into the car on her own. He’d graduated from Midwest U and had a good job with a financial services company. The restaurant he’d picked was good but not show-off expensive. And if the conversation had been, well, boring that was mostly her fault. She couldn’t really talk to him about her job so she’d asked him to tell her about his. Unfortunately Jeff was an investment weenie, and all she knew or wanted to know about money was how to spend it but still: a nice guy.

So here they were: sitting on Jeff’s tasteful couch drinking wine. Her idea to come back to his place, not his. He had been a perfect gentleman, already suggesting things they could do on their second date. Maybe a little eager, but in a nice way.

Cordelia put the glass of chardonnay down, leaned forward and kissed Jeff. He didn’t mush her lips or try to tickle her tonsils with his tongue; he took his time introducing himself. She let herself fall into it, warm lips and no tang of copper; just the normal strangeness of someone else’s mouth. Warm body as he held her closer. She jumped when she felt him getting hard against her leg.

Jeff stopped kissing her and pulled back. “Hey,” he said looking into her eyes. “Cordelia, you know we don’t have to do anything. I’m not pushing.”

Such a nice guy. She relaxed and leaned forward again. There was more kissing

“Tell me what you like?” Jeff murmured, his hands sliding down her arms.

Pressed between two cool hard bodies, insignificant, essential; burning in the intersection of hell and heaven…

“What you’re doing, that’s nice.” She picked up her glass, finished off the wine with one long swallow and moved back into his arms.

More kissing, more good touching. She left her top on the couch when they made the move to the bedroom. Jeff went down on her without having to be asked, he had an excellent sense of direction and he stayed at it till he got the job done. He asked her what she liked and did it. What Jeff liked was long deep kisses and playing with her breasts and having his nipples pinched and her putting the condom on him with her mouth. Missionary position, because he said he wanted to look at her. The expression in his eyes as he moved in her made her feel a little bit guilty but the expression on his face when he came made her feel better about it. He even stayed awake after to cuddle. It was nice to be held, even by an almost stranger. Nice to hear someone breathing beside her in the dark. He fell asleep holding her and without meaning to she dozed.