Fic: At Night Series III- Girl's Night (Buffy/Cordy, PG)
Title: At Night Series
Author: Maren
Pairing: Buffy/Cordy
Rating: PG
Summary: At Night is a series of Buffy/Cordelia ficlets that gives little peaks into a post-Chosen relationship between Buffy and Cordy by showing flashes of the nights they spend together. This series is AU where Cordelia wakes up from her coma in Angel Season 5 and stays awake. Buffy is in New York. The rest of the story unfolds in glimpses.
Author's Note: If anyone out there loves this pairing and wants to beta future ficlets, I'd be much appreciative. As of now, all mistakes are mine.
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iii. girl’s night
Buffy is fluttering around the apartment, straightening pictures that are already straight, fluffing the pillows on the couches for what has got to be the hundredth time, and chewing on her bottom lip all-the-while. It is driving Cordelia crazy.
It's been like this since Cordy got home from dance class earlier in the evening and she's been biting her tongue since, trying to let Buffy work off her nervous energy before their guests arrive. This is the first time that Buffy has invited any of her new friends from NYU over to the apartment and Cordy knows how nervous she is. Buffy hadn't ever really elaborated on their relationship with her friends from school-- she hadn't hidden it, exactly, but she never flat-out said that Cordelia is her girlfriend, not a roommate, and their favorite pastimes are shopping at sample sales and making love. Not necessarily in that order.
Honestly, Cordy doesn't care that much. Maybe she should, but the fact is that she has gotten used to keeping her personal life very quiet. She has it on excellent authority that Hallmark doesn't make a card that says 'Sorry I missed your party last night--I'm a half-demon and I got a vision from the PTB. You know how demanding gods can be!’
Still, telling people you’re a girl in love with a girl isn’t exactly in the same ballpark (and actually, Hallmark might have a card for that). Cordy's friends have known about their relationship for months. True, they're theater people, so hello, but. . .
Maybe it does bother her a little.
Settling back into the cushions of the couch, she tries one more time to ignore Buffy and concentrate on reading the new trade magazine that came in today's mail. The constant motion is distracting, though, and when Buffy sweeps the mail off the table and plucks the magazine right out of her hands, Cordy decides she's had enough.
Sitting up straight and crossing her arms under her breasts, she fixes Buffy with one of her patented annoyed glares. "Buffy."
Buffy drops to her knees in front of the leather basket next to the couch to file away Cordy's new magazine. There is no indication that she is paying any attention to Cordy.
Cordelia sighs heavily and tries again, her voice more firm. "Buffy!"
Buffy’s head snaps up at the sound of her name and she shoots Cordelia a preoccupied smile.
"Hmmmm?"
"Obviously it escaped your notice, but I was reading that magazine—as in actively tracking the words with my eyes while my brain made with the interpretation," Cordy complains. As she speaks, she can feel her anger bloom. The old adage that anger is just a cover for hurt isn’t completely lost on her in this moment.
Buffy's eyes fly to the magazine in her hand, then shoot back to Cordelia. Standing, she shakes her head.
"Sorry. I'm just a little anxious about tonight," Buffy says, coming back to stand in front of Cordy. She holds the magazine out in an offering.
Choosing to ignore it for the moment, she keeps her eyes trained on Buffy. "Really. I wouldn't have guessed," Cordy replies, her tone one of dry sarcasm. "Your pacing and obsessive cleaning didn't give that away at all.”
She sees Buffy’s eyes narrow slightly, watches as the smile fades and her lover unconsciously shifts her stance to one that befits a slayer more than a girlfriend. Buffy tosses the magazine on the coffee table and glares back. Cordelia is not intimidated.
“I said I was sorry,” Buffy bites out, but then her voice softens and the look she gives Cordy begs for understanding. “I’m just. . . I just don’t know how to do this.”
Cordy’s anger recedes. She isn’t exactly sure where it came from in the first place and she knows Buffy needs her support right now. Doesn’t stop her from feeling annoyed . . . but it does help her keep it in better check.
"Your best friend is gay," Cordy states matter-of-factly as she gazes at Buffy with her eyebrows raised. She uncrosses her arms to make her own posture less combative and pats the cushion next to her.
Buffy sinks down on the couch and leans forward to place a quick kiss on Cordelia’s lips. "Yes, she is . . . that's kind of the point."
For a second she doesn’t understand what Buffy’s talking about, and then her meaning hits Cordy with a jolt that sends a riot of feeling sweeping through her body.
"Sweet . . . but so not what I meant and you know it," Cordy returns in mock exasperation, unable to keep the smile from brightening her face. It ruins the effect, but at the moment she just doesn't care. Being in Buffy's inner circle had never been a real goal of hers in the past, even when she was working with the Scoobies, but now . . . now it means everything. Cordelia is at the very center of the circle. She was born to be at the center of the circle, and she knows it.
Buffy sits up and shoots her a questioning look. Then her face falls a little and she wraps her arms around her waist. It is a classic Buffy defensive posture that Cordy recognizes immediately. “Oh. You meant Willow.”
A flash of sorrow for Buffy and all of the people she has lost over the years, through death or a simple growing apart, hits Cordy and her smile slips a little. She knows what that’s like. But now isn’t the time for a pity party and that’s never been her style anyway.
She tips her chin down and cocks one eyebrow up. “Yeah, Willow— you know, your lesbian friend who came out to all of you years ago? You have more experience in this than most people I’d bet—at least experience of the second-hand kind.”
Buffy laughs, short and tight, and it is a sound that has nothing to do with amusement or joy. “Actually, my experience tends to run more along the lines of how to hide my love interests from my friends,” she says.
Cordy flinches, unconsciously leaning back to put space between them. Immediately Buffy gasps and shakes her head. She reaches out and grabs Cordelia’s hand, linking their fingers together.
“God, can I not say anything right? I would never want to hide you, Cordy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just glad to be making some friends again and I don’t want tonight to go down in a flaming ball of awkward, you know?” Buffy squeezes her hand and she smiles the first real, focused smile of the night.
Smiling back softly, Cordy nods and stands up, her movements sharp and determined as she picks the discarded magazine that started this whole conversation off of the table and moves to put it away. When she stands back up and faces Buffy, she can still see a trace of doubt in her eyes and Cordy decides to try one last time to reassure her.
"We've got food, drink, and above par social skills," she says, ticking off each point on the tips of her well-manicured nails. "And if all else fails, we can whip out one of our many classic chick flicks and postpone all awkward conversation for at least 90-minutes.”
There is a whirl of movement and then Buffy is hugging her, squeezing her almost too tightly for a second before the embrace softens.
“I hate it when you go all practical and level-headed on me,” Buffy says with a twinkle in her eye.
“What can I say? It’s my curse,” Cordy replies just before Buffy captures her lips for another kiss.
The ring of the buzzer interrupts the moment and Buffy pulls away from her and runs her fingers through her long blonde hair. Cordy rubs her thumb at the corner of Buffy’s mouth, wiping away some of her stray lipstick and then checks her own appearance, even though she knows it’s fine. She wants these women to like her, if only for Buffy’s sake.
Buffy is walking to the door and then she is opening it, greeting the young women on the other side and inviting them to come in. Cordelia feels a flash of insecurity that she quickly pushes away, and she gives a welcoming smile to their guests as Buffy leads them over to where she is standing.
“Cordy, these are my classmates-- Anna, Jennifer, and Cathryn,” Buffy begins, pointing at each girl in turn. Then she threads her arm around Cordy’s waist and lays her other hand lightly on Cordy’s stomach. “And this is my girlfriend, Cordelia.”
There have been myriad moments since she’s known Buffy where she has been struck, often unwillingly, with how brave the slayer can be in the face of her fear. This time is no exception.
Her own smile widens to its full-wattage brilliance. These girls are going to putty in her hands.
Author: Maren
Pairing: Buffy/Cordy
Rating: PG
Summary: At Night is a series of Buffy/Cordelia ficlets that gives little peaks into a post-Chosen relationship between Buffy and Cordy by showing flashes of the nights they spend together. This series is AU where Cordelia wakes up from her coma in Angel Season 5 and stays awake. Buffy is in New York. The rest of the story unfolds in glimpses.
Author's Note: If anyone out there loves this pairing and wants to beta future ficlets, I'd be much appreciative. As of now, all mistakes are mine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
iii. girl’s night
Buffy is fluttering around the apartment, straightening pictures that are already straight, fluffing the pillows on the couches for what has got to be the hundredth time, and chewing on her bottom lip all-the-while. It is driving Cordelia crazy.
It's been like this since Cordy got home from dance class earlier in the evening and she's been biting her tongue since, trying to let Buffy work off her nervous energy before their guests arrive. This is the first time that Buffy has invited any of her new friends from NYU over to the apartment and Cordy knows how nervous she is. Buffy hadn't ever really elaborated on their relationship with her friends from school-- she hadn't hidden it, exactly, but she never flat-out said that Cordelia is her girlfriend, not a roommate, and their favorite pastimes are shopping at sample sales and making love. Not necessarily in that order.
Honestly, Cordy doesn't care that much. Maybe she should, but the fact is that she has gotten used to keeping her personal life very quiet. She has it on excellent authority that Hallmark doesn't make a card that says 'Sorry I missed your party last night--I'm a half-demon and I got a vision from the PTB. You know how demanding gods can be!’
Still, telling people you’re a girl in love with a girl isn’t exactly in the same ballpark (and actually, Hallmark might have a card for that). Cordy's friends have known about their relationship for months. True, they're theater people, so hello, but. . .
Maybe it does bother her a little.
Settling back into the cushions of the couch, she tries one more time to ignore Buffy and concentrate on reading the new trade magazine that came in today's mail. The constant motion is distracting, though, and when Buffy sweeps the mail off the table and plucks the magazine right out of her hands, Cordy decides she's had enough.
Sitting up straight and crossing her arms under her breasts, she fixes Buffy with one of her patented annoyed glares. "Buffy."
Buffy drops to her knees in front of the leather basket next to the couch to file away Cordy's new magazine. There is no indication that she is paying any attention to Cordy.
Cordelia sighs heavily and tries again, her voice more firm. "Buffy!"
Buffy’s head snaps up at the sound of her name and she shoots Cordelia a preoccupied smile.
"Hmmmm?"
"Obviously it escaped your notice, but I was reading that magazine—as in actively tracking the words with my eyes while my brain made with the interpretation," Cordy complains. As she speaks, she can feel her anger bloom. The old adage that anger is just a cover for hurt isn’t completely lost on her in this moment.
Buffy's eyes fly to the magazine in her hand, then shoot back to Cordelia. Standing, she shakes her head.
"Sorry. I'm just a little anxious about tonight," Buffy says, coming back to stand in front of Cordy. She holds the magazine out in an offering.
Choosing to ignore it for the moment, she keeps her eyes trained on Buffy. "Really. I wouldn't have guessed," Cordy replies, her tone one of dry sarcasm. "Your pacing and obsessive cleaning didn't give that away at all.”
She sees Buffy’s eyes narrow slightly, watches as the smile fades and her lover unconsciously shifts her stance to one that befits a slayer more than a girlfriend. Buffy tosses the magazine on the coffee table and glares back. Cordelia is not intimidated.
“I said I was sorry,” Buffy bites out, but then her voice softens and the look she gives Cordy begs for understanding. “I’m just. . . I just don’t know how to do this.”
Cordy’s anger recedes. She isn’t exactly sure where it came from in the first place and she knows Buffy needs her support right now. Doesn’t stop her from feeling annoyed . . . but it does help her keep it in better check.
"Your best friend is gay," Cordy states matter-of-factly as she gazes at Buffy with her eyebrows raised. She uncrosses her arms to make her own posture less combative and pats the cushion next to her.
Buffy sinks down on the couch and leans forward to place a quick kiss on Cordelia’s lips. "Yes, she is . . . that's kind of the point."
For a second she doesn’t understand what Buffy’s talking about, and then her meaning hits Cordy with a jolt that sends a riot of feeling sweeping through her body.
"Sweet . . . but so not what I meant and you know it," Cordy returns in mock exasperation, unable to keep the smile from brightening her face. It ruins the effect, but at the moment she just doesn't care. Being in Buffy's inner circle had never been a real goal of hers in the past, even when she was working with the Scoobies, but now . . . now it means everything. Cordelia is at the very center of the circle. She was born to be at the center of the circle, and she knows it.
Buffy sits up and shoots her a questioning look. Then her face falls a little and she wraps her arms around her waist. It is a classic Buffy defensive posture that Cordy recognizes immediately. “Oh. You meant Willow.”
A flash of sorrow for Buffy and all of the people she has lost over the years, through death or a simple growing apart, hits Cordy and her smile slips a little. She knows what that’s like. But now isn’t the time for a pity party and that’s never been her style anyway.
She tips her chin down and cocks one eyebrow up. “Yeah, Willow— you know, your lesbian friend who came out to all of you years ago? You have more experience in this than most people I’d bet—at least experience of the second-hand kind.”
Buffy laughs, short and tight, and it is a sound that has nothing to do with amusement or joy. “Actually, my experience tends to run more along the lines of how to hide my love interests from my friends,” she says.
Cordy flinches, unconsciously leaning back to put space between them. Immediately Buffy gasps and shakes her head. She reaches out and grabs Cordelia’s hand, linking their fingers together.
“God, can I not say anything right? I would never want to hide you, Cordy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just glad to be making some friends again and I don’t want tonight to go down in a flaming ball of awkward, you know?” Buffy squeezes her hand and she smiles the first real, focused smile of the night.
Smiling back softly, Cordy nods and stands up, her movements sharp and determined as she picks the discarded magazine that started this whole conversation off of the table and moves to put it away. When she stands back up and faces Buffy, she can still see a trace of doubt in her eyes and Cordy decides to try one last time to reassure her.
"We've got food, drink, and above par social skills," she says, ticking off each point on the tips of her well-manicured nails. "And if all else fails, we can whip out one of our many classic chick flicks and postpone all awkward conversation for at least 90-minutes.”
There is a whirl of movement and then Buffy is hugging her, squeezing her almost too tightly for a second before the embrace softens.
“I hate it when you go all practical and level-headed on me,” Buffy says with a twinkle in her eye.
“What can I say? It’s my curse,” Cordy replies just before Buffy captures her lips for another kiss.
The ring of the buzzer interrupts the moment and Buffy pulls away from her and runs her fingers through her long blonde hair. Cordy rubs her thumb at the corner of Buffy’s mouth, wiping away some of her stray lipstick and then checks her own appearance, even though she knows it’s fine. She wants these women to like her, if only for Buffy’s sake.
Buffy is walking to the door and then she is opening it, greeting the young women on the other side and inviting them to come in. Cordelia feels a flash of insecurity that she quickly pushes away, and she gives a welcoming smile to their guests as Buffy leads them over to where she is standing.
“Cordy, these are my classmates-- Anna, Jennifer, and Cathryn,” Buffy begins, pointing at each girl in turn. Then she threads her arm around Cordy’s waist and lays her other hand lightly on Cordy’s stomach. “And this is my girlfriend, Cordelia.”
There have been myriad moments since she’s known Buffy where she has been struck, often unwillingly, with how brave the slayer can be in the face of her fear. This time is no exception.
Her own smile widens to its full-wattage brilliance. These girls are going to putty in her hands.
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