SquidgeWorld Archive

"What about now?"

Wesley turned his head at an angle as he looked at the framed drawing. His eyes invariably moved from the sketch to the sketch of an unidentifiable blob to the woman holding it. His vision traveled along the long, sinuous legs, the shapely contours until he noticed the impatience in her dark eyes.

He cleared his throat and turned his gaze painfully back to the drawing. "Um, yes... a little more to the left."

She adjusted the frame and took a step back. She gazed at the drawing in silence and made no move to look away. She seemed to have turned into a statue.

Wesley straightened his jacket and, mustering up all his courage, advanced towards her. "Cordelia, I've been wondering if perhaps you would be amenable to the idea of having dinner with me... or lunch... or breakfast... or perhaps some other meal."

He wrung his hands together, visualising all her possible reactions. He hadn't expected what she finally did however. She started to cry.

"I never appreciated just how special he was. I mean, yeah he was poor and short and he drank to much but he was a real hero, even without tights... he's still saving me after death. And now," She sniffed loudly. "I'll never be able to tell him how I feel."

Wesley seemed to completely deflate. "Oh," he said, taking a step back. "You must have really cared about him."

"I...." She never finished her sentence, suddenly clutching her head in pain. She shut her eyes and shook her head, struggling for relief. When it didn't come, she slammed her open palm on her desk.

She was in her apartment.

She looked about her in confusion. The room was completely silent and motionless. Dead. "Is there evil in my apartment?" She asked tentatively, then with sudden fear. "Cockroaches?"

Her only answer was the echo of her own voice, taunting her. A second later it was followed by a kind chuckle. She backed into a corner, looking for the source.

She was in her bedroom.

It looked exactly as usual except that the bed was covered in rose petals. She carefully picked one up and rose it to her nose.

Something touched her shoulder.

She jumped in alarm, startled by the gentle touch in this odd yet familiar place. "Sorry." Came a gentle, familiar voice.

Cordelia turned around and found herself staring into his deep, blue eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and she reached out tentatively to see if he was real. Her fingers brushed against his hair.

The room shifted again.

He was standing above her, gently lowering her onto the bed. She closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his hand on the small of her back, the intoxicating smell of roses.

"I missed you." His mind whispered to hers.

Suddenly he was laying besides her, staring into her eyes. He smiled and carefully touched her cheek as if she were a porcelain doll.

"I couldn't spend eternity without touching you one last time."

She held his hand against her cheek, tears threatening to fall. She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. "I could have loved your face." She said with a sob.

He smiled, a sad smile. "I know princess."

She leaned forward to kiss him. She lost herself in the gentle pressure of his lips against hers and willed it to last forever. She parted her lips to taste him.

She was facing him in the doorway.

The tears that she had been holding back until now flowed freely down her cheeks. "I didn't get to say goodbye last time." She said weakly, her voice breaking.

He took her hands, holding them tightly. He was biting his lip to stop his own tears and tried to smile. "It's not goodbye, that's forever. It's more like see you later, ya?" He smiled encouragingly but her lips didn't rise. He lowered his eyes, giving up on trying to be cheerful.

"I know it's clichi but I'll always be with you," he placed a hand on her chest. "Here."

The apartment started to fade and Doyle along with it. She reached out for him desperately but he was gone.

"I love you." The emptiness whispered and she collapsed into tears on her desk.

"Cordelia, are you alright?" Wesley asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She glanced up at the brit, shying away from his touch. She glanced at the drawing on the wall and touched he lips. "No. No, but I will be."