Work Text:
Resolution
by Pirate Turner
I awoke with a start. My heart pounding frantically within my chest, I jumped up to a sitting position as brilliant, jagged streaks of lightning lit up my room like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Slowly, I pushed my sheet over and stood on shaky legs. Finally, I had the answer I had so desperately sought for days!
The only problem now was: just what the heck was I going to do about it? I was going to have to face Angel and the others in the morning. I might have been able to push off my absence over the last few days as being heartsick over the "loss" of the Groosalugg, but no more. My boss, and my love, needs me, as does the rest of our friends. How could I face him in the morning, knowing what I now know?
Fear. It's a powerful thing. So powerful that it can make the world's strongest warriors and richest millionaires go weak in the knees and do anything that is demanded of them. Powerful enough to bring an entire nation to a crumbling, whimpering halt. Powerful enough to make even me, the one, the only Cordelia Chase, want to run away like a scared kitten in the dark.
But I'm not a kitten. At least, not in that precise meaning of the word. And I've always had to face my fear. Why should now be any different? Why should I shy away from facing the truth? Why did I then?
If only I hadn't let fear cloud my words, if only my panicked mind hadn't raced and reached for anything but the truth, coming up with the so moronic, and so totally not me, "Not you, dumbass"! But then, the world's full of "if only"'s. What's the old saying, "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride?" Well, I've been both a beggar and a rider, and though I by far prefer to be a rider, I have to tell you that I am not crazy in the slightest about the idea of riding a horse that can fall out from under me at any given second.
I sigh. I know what I have to do. I have to go ahead and get this over with. I glance at my clock. It's not quite sunrise yet. I should be able to get to the office with at least an hour to spare before Angel retires to his coffin. Well, he doesn't really sleep in a coffin. It's just a saying.
Oh, Gods, I'm starting to babble. There's no sense in any of this! No sense in telling him the truth! Please, he's so still not over that damn blonde Slayer bimbo! I've already lost so much to Buffy, and I've never had Angel to begin with. How many times, HOW MANY TIMES, did I move on him back in Sunnydale, only to be constantly rebuffed?! Must I really add my pride to the long list of things that bitch has stolen from me, for yet another time?! Do I really want to endanger my friendship with Angel like that?!
I sigh as I sit back hard on the bed, my head buried in my hands as my mind whirls with protests of what my heart cries for. I just don't know what to do! I want to scream. Why does my world always have to be so damned complicated?! It used to be so simple -- just being in charge of Sunnydale High -- and though I thought that was complicated and tough at the time, and then I thought that being a Slayerette was hard, tedious work, nothing, and I do mean NOTHING!, could possibly be any tougher than this! Dear Gods, what am I to do?!
Lorne. His name comes to me like a candle lit on a dark and stormy night, and I know immediately that he can help me. He helps every one, right?
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"You look like Hell."
I glare at him. "I didn't come here to be criticized, Lorne. I came here for your help," I seethe. I know I don't look like myself, but I certainly don't need any green Demon to tell me that!
He sighs, and for a moment, I wonder if he knows what I'm thinking. I look at him rather sheepishly, waiting. Then, finally, he speaks again. "Anything, brown eyes. Just sing the tune." He winks.
I nod. "I'm facing a tough situation here, Lorne, and I need to know what to do. I don't want to lose him, but I also don't know how long I can keep these feelings bottled up inside now that I've finally accepted them for what they are," I blurt out in explanation.
He nods this time and gestures toward the stage. "As I said, brown eyes, just sing the tune."
I gulp, knowing that all eyes will soon be on me. The last, and only, time that I have ever before did this, it was with Gunn and Wesley, and I was completely stoned on countless tequilas. I can't afford those luxuries tonight, though. I'm all alone.
Before I even realize what's happening, I've found myself on the stage, testing the mike. Again, my mind whirls. What song, what song? Madonna? Shania Twain?
I don't know what force is guiding me tonight, what invisible but nonetheless strong force keeps shoving me into places where I'd really rather not be, but suddenly, words are spilling from my lips. Before the crowd, smaller now than usual as it's so late, I start to sing, my voice trembling at first, but finally, I start to get the hang of it. I don't even know what made me choose this one of Shania's, even though it does seem to fit.
[Insert Song Here]
I don't believe it! Well, yeah, I believe it. I mean, I am Cordelia Chase, after all! But I can actually sing! In front of an entire audience! For the first time in days, I gift some one -- a whole audience of some ones! -- with one of my dazzling smiles.
Maybe I've been looking into breaking into Hollywood through the wrong way? I shouldn't just settle for commercials and wait patiently, knowing that I'll be noticed eventually! I should look into musicals! I can see it now! Cordelia Chase: the beauty of a siren with the voice of an angel! My grin grows bigger until that last word, that last thought that spells my emotional doom, and the cloud reforms.
I can feel tears piercing my eyes again, but I hold them back as I descend, with a curtsey, from the stage and return to Lorne, praying all the while that he has the answer that I so desperately need. Now isn't the time for tears. No. Now is the time for life-altering decisions.
I look at him expectantly as he rises to greet me, clapping daintily. "Beautiful, brown eyes! Simply marvelous! At least somebody from your agency can sing!"
I smile but say not a word as I take the seat he holds out. Chin resting on my hand, I look at him and our eyes meet as he takes his seat. I sigh inwardly with relief at the knowing wisdom that I see in those red eyes.
He sighs and shakes his head. "I knew you'd come around eventually, brown eyes, but why did you have to go and tell Angelcakes what you told him? How can you expect him to believe that he's got his wish now, after the way you acted after the Groosalugg?" He sighs and shakes his head again.
"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice faint and my throat feeling strangely, roughly dry. "His wish? Lorne, what are you talking about?"
He smiles but doesn't answer the question. "I see a good future ahead of you, brown eyes, but only if you act now. Leave your head out of this. Let your heart lead you, and you will not be disappointed."
"What do you mean?" I ask, confused. Let my heart lead me? I've never bothered to keep my emotions bottled up. Well, except for my love for Angel and any pain that I feel. Just generate that pain into anger, and boy, am I good at that . . .
His eyes meet mine again as he stands up. "You know what I mean. Silence your mind. Let your heart guide you, and all that you want, all that you need, can be yours, the most important of which, if you act quickly, can yet be yours by sunrise."
Before I can ask anything more of him, the Host is gone, disappearing into the mass of Demons, Vampires, and other things that go bump in the night. Why is it that he always helps Angel but never really me? Well, Cordy, what now?
I hear his words again. "Let your heart guide you, and all that you want, all that you need, can be yours, the most important of which, if you act quickly, can yet be yours by sunrise."
I have to find Angel.
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He's still up. I don't see a light or anything, but the sun hasn't even begun to think about rising though the darkness is starting to fade. The click-clack of my high heels echo in the empty office. I walk to the desk and listen. "Angel?" I call out, but no answer comes.
I move further in. There was once a time when spooky shadows like the ones that cling to the corners and ceiling in this old place would have made me screamish, but no longer. I've come a long way, and though I'd never admit it, I know a lot of what I am today I never could have reached if not for Angel.
Just where the heck is Dead Boy, any way? Is he home?
I move further in, call his name again. Still no answer. Maybe I should leave . . .
No. I'm going to do what I came here to do. Even if I have to wait.
Figures that that would be the exact second when I hear it. A mad, angry pounding against something hard. My heart leaps into my throat. There was a time when I would have ran from such a sound, but now I run to it, afraid that he's in trouble. That my beloved Vampire with a soul might need his Seer's help.
But even as I run towards the furious pounding, it stops. I slow as I realize that it's been coming from Angel's bedroom. I can see the door up ahead, and there's just a crack in it. Quietly, as silently as possible, I inch towards the door and peek through the tiny opening.
I tremble at what I see there. Of all the things I might have expected to find, this was never one of them! There he stands, all sweaty from venting his frustrations on his now-broken punching bag, holding the split bag, head resting against it, shoulders shaking. Though he doesn't make a sound, I know he's crying, and my heart aches. Tears sting my eyes, and I don't bother holding them back this time. I turn to leave, knowing that I've been a fool, knowing that all this time it's still that damn Buffy bitch that has his heart and that it's her death that's causing his tears now.
"Cordy."
I turn back, tears still on my cheeks, startled as I have not even heard him move. "Angel." My voice breaks. Gods, why did I even ever come here?! I'm going to kill that damn green Demon! I should have known better any way -- listening to a Demon, for Gods' sakes!
He moves with lightning speed, and his touch is electric as he cradles me. His hand touches my cheek with such a feather-light touch that I'm not even sure he's real. His unbelievably sexy eyes bore into mine, and I see such emotion there that I just want to crumple then and there. "What's wrong?" His emotions change so suddenly as his face changes, his forehead expanding, his eyes turning yellow, and his fangs showing as he snarls out, "Who hurt you?"
I try to talk but can't find my voice, so instead I just shake my head in the negative. He relaxes, returning to his normal face, but only very slightly. "What is it? What's wrong, Cordy? Tell me," he pleads.
Anger suddenly flushes my being, and I shove away from him. I don't want to hurt him even further, but then, I've never hurt him. It's always been that damn Slayer, always Biffy, always Buffy. "How dare you!" I seethe out. I can feel the heat rushing in my cheeks. He looks at me, stunned, speechless, but I don't give a damn. Why should I?! I'm sick of this damn Slayer! Can't he see that there's a real woman, right here, in front of him, a better woman in all the meanings except for fighting and except for being the damn Slayer, a woman that is so much better for him than she's ever been, a woman that loves him? Why must I always lose out to Buffy, especially my most prized jewels?! "Can't you see, Angel?!"
He looks me, stunned, disbelieving. "See what?"
Damn men and damn Vampires! Why must they always be so ignorant?! "I love you, dumbass; that's what! Yes, I know! I was an idiot, but it isn't not you, dumbass! It IS you, dumbass! Damn it, Angel! I love you! You! We should be together, but yet here you are, still living in the past! She's dead, and she was always a bitch! I'm here, though! I'm flesh and blood, and I want you, Angel! I love you!"
Oh Gods! Oh Gods! Oh Gods! Me and my big mouth! I can't stand to bare his rejection. I've gotta get out of here! I turn to run, but he grabs me gently but firmly by my elbow and turns me around to face him. I can't face him. I lower my eyes away. "Let me go, Angel, please," I whisper, my voice breaking despite my strength and will. Oh Gods, let me get out of here! Don't let me break down in front of him!
He doesn't answer immediately but turns my head to look up at him. Oh Gods, those eyes of his! "Cordy, listen to me. I don't believe my ears, but rather or not you're a figment of my imagination, I have to tell you this. Buffy's my past. I want you to be my future. I hate to admit that I was crying, but yes, I was crying, but no, not over Buffy. Over you. Over losing my dream, my Princess, to that damn Groosalugg! A stake through my heart would have been so much easier to face than those words that you told me then, Cordelia, that you didn't love me. That's what Hell is to me now -- being without you. I can handle almost anything, Cordy, but I can't handle losing you."
My tears are running freely now, but they don't matter. All that matters is this remarkably wonderful man before me and what I now know is not my love or his love but our love. "I was wrong, Angel. I was running scared, and I'm so sorry I ever hurt you. I'm a bitch. Usually I'm proud of that fact but not when it comes to hurting you. The truth is, Angel, that no matter how many times I denied it, I still loved you; I still do love you; and I will always love you." I turn my face into his palm and kiss it gently, my eyes never leaving his as I watch him process my words.
"I love you too, Cordy, always." He leans in. My breath catches in my throat. I know what's coming, but I can't believe it. Finally, after all these years! I lean into him, my hands pressing against his strong chest. His arms wrap around me, tightly yet gently at the same time. I didn't even know it was possible to feel like this, and there's just no words to describe it. Nothing else matters. Just us and our love. I'm already floating, but when our lips touch, I'm shooting through the cosmos. The sweet taste of his lips is even better than I ever imagined. Dear Gods, I must be in Heaven, but no, I'm real, he's real, our love is real, and this moment is real! My most important dream has come true at last!
The End