AUTHOR: SUNSCORCHED (aka JUDI)
SUMMARY: A POV fic set during ‘In the Dark’ with perspectives by Cordelia, Spike, Angel, and Doyle.
POSTED: 16 Jul 2003
CATEGORY: AU POV
CONTENT/PAIRING: CORDELIA/SPIKE, CORDELIA/ANGEL implied
FICPIC CREDIT: N/A
1) This has been in my head, taking up space for eons, had to write it!
She’s in here; I can feel her and I can smell her. Cordelia Chase, raven-haired beauty and the only mortal I can stand to be around. I can feel my skin prickle with the memory of her touch, I can feel my gut tie up in knots because she’s the one fucking thing I can’t bloody well have.
I could if I turned her, but I don’t want her changing with a demon inside her.
It all started with bloody Angelus, the fucking prick. As everything always starts with Angelus, like the world revolves around his sorry arse. I caught her after the whelp left her on her own after that run in with the ponce. Poor chit was shakin’ like a leaf.
Shit. I’m getting the living bloody daylights knocked out of me while I’m thinking of ‘er.
I hit the wall and the door behind Angelus opens, she’s standing there. God, don’t look at me like that pet. Don’t.
“Cordelia” I say as I stand, dusting my clothes off, “You look smashing”
I don’t know what to do. I know he’s here but I can’t say anything to Angel or Doyle about how I know. It would lead to the Spanish Inquisition, and that is so not what I want. I remember everything Spike I say to him in my head.
Every touch, every whisper and every brush of skin when we were together, even round that kooky gang. It’s amazing what people don’t see even when it’s right in front of you. Like that night at the Bronze, when we danced not more than three feet away from Buffy and Angel. How he never knew you were there, I’ll never know.
Doyle is saying something about Angel and loud, banging noises and we run to help. I’m not sure who I’m running to help, Angel or Spike.
Doyle and I swing the door open, and even though I knew he was here before I went through it, it’s like being hit by a truck. I’m torn between helping Angel and helping Spike. His gaze is still the same cocky one I remember, his skin is still marble and unmarred but please Spike.
Please don’t look at me like that
“Thanks” I say cheerily, “There’s this gym down the road…Hey!” can’t talk like I know you, can’t act like I want you and can’t breathe because I do.
Princess is sittin’ there, explainin’ all about this Spike fellow and I’m getting a lot more out of her than fear. She’s tryin’ to hide it, but there’s pride in her voice as she sits there tellin’ me about the two Slayers the vampire’s done in.
“You’ve mentioned it,” I say in reference to her repeating about Spike’s Slayer conquests. There’s more to this story then meets the eye, I can tell it a mile off but I know she won’t say anything an I won’t ask. Because truthfully, I don’t wanna know.
How can she sit there, eatin’ popcorn while tellin’ me about an arm in a box? I can’t help but be jealous, a demon the likes of Spike touched the untouchable and he’s still touchin’ her on the inside. Today, in the basement, I saw her hesitation and could hear her silent conversation wit’ him.
“Frankie Tripod is very much human,” I reply to her question about why he’s called that.
“Cordelia” I say as I saunter into the poof’s office, or should I say orifice? “Love the hair,” I drawl, playing on my accent that she loves so much. Don’t disappoint me, luv.
“Wish I could say the same to you” Cordelia replies to me, using her own soft, sweet voice. Bitch, always gets me where it bloody ‘urts.
Her raven hair flops down over her and falls into her eyes as she stands there, crossbow that she would never use, aimed at my heart. She doesn’t disappoint. Her eyes blink open and shut, I’m also captivated but I came here for a reason. The Ring. I did the bloody work and I want my ring.
“You’d be dead before the arrow leaves the bow” I shoot the warning to her, she her quiver slightly as she lowers it in shame of threatening me. I’d never hurt you sweetheart, not even if you wanted me too.
I call the bloody poof a ponce. I don’t have a soul; touch wood, to blame my sorry state on.
Why can’t that bleedin’ mick just piss off, “What is it with you good guys always running in packs?” I asked humoured by the situation while trying to stop from reacting to her scent.
Bitch knows me too well, her eyes drop for just a second and then arousal hits the air. Mine and hers.
I blink and look at the half-demon.
Oh crap. He’s just three feet away from me, Doyle go away. Just reach out and take the crossbow out of my shaking hands, Spike, and break it. I’m sorry I threatened you, I really am but I know you understand just like I understand you threatening to kill me in reply.
It’s what we do, who we are.
It’s these differences that put the divide there and make it wider every day, please just don’t say anything more. Don’t look at me and don’t do what you’re doing now. He’s scenting me; I know it. I can see his chest rising and falling under his jacket and his eyes are flaming.
Ice blue turning sapphire blue, oh God don’t look at me like that. I so badly want to jack in this good guy crap, trade it all in for one night with him but I couldn’t be happy while knowing he was killing. But a part of me could. I ask where Angel is, a rehearsed question and I get a rehearsed answer in response.
I can’t stop shaking and it’s not in fear.
I’m strung up in chains, hot pokers through my body and in quite a lot of pain, but I know something’s going on. Doyle’s face is worried and it’s not just directed at me.
“Cordelia” I mumble out, I need her at my side right now, need her to be here with me and I need her to help me.
Then I notice it. Hesitation. Just a single moment’s hesitation, her eyes flicker to Spike who’s standing just to left of her. It sinks in. That’s the scent I could never place on him when I was evil in Sunnydale.
I wanna demand what she was doing with him, wanna demand what right he thought he had to touch her. I wanna fucking kill him for touching what I class as mine, but she’s not, though. Not mine.
Because she was his first. I remember taunting Spike about reeking of virgin’s blood when he came home one night. Cordelia’s blood. I should’ve killed him there and then. It wasn’t just Buffy I stalked in my Sunnydale rampage, wanted her too. When I first saw Cordelia at the Bronze, she called me Salty Goodness, I wanted her then.
But I knew I had no right to bring her down into my world, cast shadows over her light. Maybe that’s why I was with Buffy. Because she was already part of that darkness that I was shrouded in. Spike took her and made her his and I couldn’t be more gutted that he got her and I didn’t.
I hate him more now then ever.
I leave the office, everything’s said and done, Marcus is dead and ring with Angel. It’s still light outside and I know where Spike will be. I’m there right now. At the warehouse where he had Angel chained up, I’m standing in the exact spot.
He’s looking at me from the shadows as I stand here, not quite sure what to do. I want to go to him but I’m scared. I’m scared of myself and I’m scared of Spike. I know he would never hurt me, or at least I think I do or is that hoping he won’t? I don’t know.
He’s walking towards me now, I’m moving towards him like a magnet. I can’t stop myself, don’t know if I want to and know I couldn’t even if I did.
“Spike” I say cordially as we stand almost nose-to-nose.
“Cordelia” I reply in the same bloody polite tone she used. I want to say bugger it, knock her out, sling her over my shoulder and take off for parts unknown. Away from the friggin’ poof, away from Sunny bleedin’ Hell and away from the damned Slayer.
Take her arm, drag her close and wrap myself around her. I’m holding her so tightly that I could break her in half if I wanted to. Part of me does, but I won’t destroy her like that prick Angelus would.
I’m not him and never will be thank bloody God.
“It’s alright pet,” I murmur for some reason, whether the comfort is for me, or her, I’m not sure.
How can he say it’s alright? It’s so far from alright it’s practically all left, but I’m glad he said it. He’s removing Angel and Doyle’s smell off me now, rubbing his cheek against mine, lips slowly moving to mine.
We’re hungrily devouring each other now and I’m taking his jacket off as he holds the back of my neck in place with one hand while the other runs through my hair.
My last coherent thought is I must remember to shower and take at least five days off work.
I followed her and I watch, it pains me to see it but I can’t look away. Guess it wasn’t just Buffy and me who had the ‘forbidden love’ in Sunnydale.
Know this Spike, I will kill you for this. For taking her from me and making her yours. But not before I take Cordelia back and away from you.