-Excerpt from Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

It was late at night. Pretty damn late . . . but she was still awake.

Dressed in powder blue polka-dotted pajamas and furry slippers (all the expensive kind, in case you were wondering), yes, all brushed and flossed and make-up free, but still awake. Still awake, and freaking out.

Cordelia paced up and down her room, worrying about what she had done that day. “Harmony’s going to walk all over me tomorrow,” moaned Cordelia, thinking about her earlier actions. “I can’t believe I called her a sheep. A sheep! Does standing up to her make me into some kind of . . . uncool, low-man on the totem-pole stander-upper?”

She picked up a brush from her dressing table and ran it through her hair fervently, still musing. “Xander isn’t worth all this trauma! He’s a loser! And he can’t even dress! And . . . he messes with magic cause he can’t get a girl to like him the normal way!” She paused in her ramblings for a moment, a soft smile suddenly spreading over her features. “Although he did go through a lot of trouble setting that up.” A wistful sigh. “And it was all for me . . .”

She shook her head to clear it, her panic revisiting her. *I can’t not be cool again!* she thought frantically. *I’m Cordelia Chase! I define popularity!*

Shallow she may be, but it’s hard to lose something you’ve had all your life. Call her popularity her security blanket. It’s sad, but those are the hard facts. She’s got her looks, her money, and her May Queen status to hold on to. But now . . . there were other things to consider. Like Xander.

She couldn’t deny that she that she felt something for him. She cared about him more than she wanted to admit. Scary thing . . . she never thought she’d feel that way about any guy . . . especially one who didn’t own a car . . . or even belong to a Varsity team . . . or . . . well, there were a lot of things lacking in Xander Harris, but he was so . . . he was just so . . . he was just so endearing in that uniquely Xanderish way of his.

He wasn’t bad. Tolerable, even. There were cuter guys, and richer guys, and more popular guys who would have all knocked themselves out to date her. But they weren’t Xander. She was . . . fond . . . of him. In fact, you could even say that she lov . . . no. No l-words. It was too soon. Wasn’t it?

But she cared for him. She did. And that lovely necklace he had given her for Valentine’s showed that he felt something for her too . . .

Cordy raised her hand to her neck, but touched only bare skin. No necklace.

She remembered.

He had wanted it for the spell.

He must still have it, the jerk.

It was perhaps her only hold to sanity.

Seeing the necklace would keep her calm . . . remind her why it didn’t matter what the others thought of her now . . .

She wanted it back.

Cordelia picked up the phone.

RRRRIIIINNNNGGGG!!!!!!

Xander groaned and put a pillow over his head.

RRRRRIIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!!!!! Yet again. Possibly louder than before.

“Go ‘way,” he mumbled, before flopping over onto his side, away from the insistent ringing of the . . .

RRRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGG!!!!!!

. . . phone.

Xander scowled and grappled for the receiver next to his bed. “’Lo?”

“Xander! What took you so long? I’m having a major crisis here and you’re snoozing right through it! I can’t go to sleep, and I know I only had one soda today. And it was diet . . .”

He eyed the digits of the clock beside him and stifled a groan. “Cordy, it’s 2:54 in the morning. We had a crazy time last night. Or was it the night before?” He yawned. “See, I’m so tired I can’t even remember. You know what I’m talking about, wacked-out spell, mob of nympho girls . . . I think it’s fair to say I’m pooped. Still pooped. And craving some major hang-time with my pillow. Can’t this wait till . . . “ He checked the clock again. “. . . later?”

Right away he knew he had said the wrong thing. Cordy’s voice would rise shrilly, and he could imagine the look of disbelief on her face as she . . .

. . . remained quiet.

Quiet?

He could hear her unsteady breathing on the other end, so he knew she hadn’t hung up.

What? No insult? No lame comeback?

He liked to think he knew his girlfriend well enough to tell she was mad. Usually it involved shouting, indignant replies, etc, etc. This was serious.

“Cordy, what’s wrong?”

A long pause. “I’m sorry for calling. Shouldn’t have woken you up,” she mumbled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No, don’t hang up.” Xander straightened up and cradled the receiver under his ear as he proceeded to act the part of Good Boyfriend. He owed it to her, after what he had done.

Wait. After what he had done? What about the grief she had put him through?

Never mind that now. He’d deal later.

“What’s wrong, Cordy?” he asked again, more gently.

“I . . .” Now that she had Xander on the phone she didn’t know what to say. She felt shy all of a sudden, and she was never shy. “Casting that spell . . . it was totally sweet in a psycho, vengeful kinda way, and I guess . . . I’m flattered. Maybe too flattered. Maybe it made me a little crazy. You know that whole scene this afternoon?”

*Huh? What scene?* “That scene . . . umm . . . yeah, what about it?”

“I’ve been sitting in bed since eight o’clock this evening unleashing. To myself.” She sighed. “I guess I’m losing it, Xander. All this superficial stuff really matters to me. And you know what I said to Harmony! I totally wrecked her! There’s no way I’m ever going to . . .”

He nodded. Oh, that scene. She had called him at three in the morning to complain about losing her status. Because of him. Yet she did not seem to be blaming him. Not exactly. “If it means anything to you at all, Cor,” he said, interrupting her tirade, “It really meant a lot to me.”

He could almost see her smile. “I know. And you’re welcome.”

There was a moment of silence . . . a brief period in time when the two of them both just sat there and appreciated each other’s company.

Then Cordy started again.

“I called her a sheep! And wool’s not even in season! I hit her right where it hurts . . . she’s gonna hate me.”

Xander blinked. This was strangely out of character. Since when did Cordelia Chase become overly concerned about what Harmony, of all people, thought? For as far back as he could remember, she was Cordy’s whipping-boy, her loyal sidekick, and it was Harmony who would cater to Cordelia’s every whim, not the other way round!

Harmony was nobody! Harmony didn’t matter! Harmony was, and Cordy said so herself, a sheep.

He tried telling her so.

“Her opinion doesn’t count, Cor,” he said gently. “Anybody who’s anybody will still know that even if . . .” And here he winced, “you go out with a loser like me.”

Another pause, and then she laughed. “Yes, well, I’ve gone out with worse. And you . . . have your pluses.” That was as close as she would get to admitting that she cared for him . . .

He understood, and smiled to himself. “And you’re not too bad yourself. I mean, as far as spoiled, rich brats go, I think I’ve picked the best one of the lot.”

“Thanks . . . I think.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Twenty minutes later, and she was still going strong . . .

“. . . and it’s not like I’m not smart, you know. I haven’t stayed popular all these years without learning some tricks on how to . . .”

Xander was falling asleep, but he was trying to hide it. Rather well, too.

“Uh huh.”

“. . . some people think that it’s all about being gorgeous and dressing well, but it’s not! Well . . . it is, but . . .”

“Uh huh.”

“. . . so harsh on every little fashion faux-pas and other social transgressions, not that it’s ever happened to me before until . . .”

“Uh huh.”

“. . . I’m still awake and I’m thinking all these deep thoughts and . . . I’m still in shock over what I did! I mean . . . I have to think about my reputation, and there’s already been a serious downslide since I started going out with you . . .”

“Uh huh.”

She went on as if she hadn’t heard, which, come to think about it, she probably hadn’t.

“. . . not . . . that . . . I ever regretted it, you know. Well, I did for a while, that’s why I dumped you even though you gave me . . .” She sat up quickly as she finally remembered her reason for calling.

“My necklace!”

The sudden change of tone in her voice startled Xander out of his drowsy state of mind. “W-what?” he gasped.

“That’s why I called you! I wanted my necklace back!”

3:29. Oh man. “Now?” He tried to keep his desperation out of his voice.

“Please?”

Xander eyed his pillow longingly. “But . . .”

“It really means a lot to me, Xander. It reminds me of why . . . why I wouldn’t mind too much if . . . if I go to school tomorrow and find myself a social outcast.”

He pulled the receiver away from his ear and stared at it, touched. It would not have been easy for Cordelia to make a statement like that, and he was . . . well . . . touched.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He picked up the locket from where it was lying on his nightstand and stared at it thoughtfully. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Make it ten,” she told him, and hung up.

Instead of throwing on some clothes and heading out the door, for a full minute, Xander didn’t move from his bed. The implications of what he had just heard Cordy say hit him. He realized both of two things. a) *She loves me.* and b) he was grinning like an idiot.

He grabbed a jacket from where he had tossed it on the floor and pulled it on. Then he picked up the phone and punched in a number.

“Oz, man, I need a favor.”

Chase Estate, twenty minutes later:

A figure stepped out of the shadows. Xander clutched his vial of holy water and called out.

“Oz, is that you?”

“I’m pretty sure it is. Or some sort of bleary-eyed facsimile of me, anyway. Explain to me again why you had me crawl out of bed at three-thirty in the morning and meet you here with my guitar?”

He walked over to where Xander was, carrying his guitar case with him. Oz looked remarkably well-rested for a bleary-eyed facsimile, all alert and spiffed up compared to Xander’s baggy eyes and t-shirt/boxers ensemble.

Xander tugged consciously at the jacket to cover up his ratty old tee and flashed Oz a grin. “Cordy’s still awake. Just thought I’d serenade her for a bit. Do you know the chords for that one song? You know, that song that that guy sings?”

“That song,” nodded Oz, strapping on his guitar. “Gotcha.” He strummed a few chords and started fiddling with the (what do you call that part of the guitar that you adjust to tighten or loosen the strings?). “Ready.”

Xander cleared his throat nervously. The collar of his T-shirt seemed too tight all of a sudden. He pulled at it and looked up at the balcony above him. No sign of life outside of the gentle flapping of her curtains in the breeze.

He began reconsidering what he had thought was his great plan . . .

Aw, hell. Nobody has ever accused him of being a wuss. Well, Cordelia had, but that was different. It just was. *So . . . last chance of backing out, buddy.*

He glanced up again at Cordelia’s window and made up his mind.

*Here goes nothing.*

He opened his mouth and began to sing . . .

She had told him ten. It had already been twenty-five. Cordelia was going to kill him.

“Just because I lov . . . go out with him doesn’t mean he can stand me up! No one stands up Cordelia Chase!” she said aloud, punching a hapless pillow furiously. *And I really want that necklace . . .*

Suddenly she heard the opening riffs of a strangely familiar song . . .

She don’t care about my car

Cordy frowned and looked up. *Who . . .?*

And she don’t care about my money

She got up from her bed and padded over to the window to see what idiot was up at this time of the night singing to some girl who probably didn’t . . . know . . .

And that’s real good cause I don’t got a lot to spend

. . . he . . . whoa.

*Xander?*

But if I did it wouldn’t mean nothin’

She likes me for me
Not because I look like Tyson Beckford
With the charm of Robert Redford
Oozing out my ears

*Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, honey . . .*

But what she sees
Are my faults and indecisions
My insecure condition
And the tears upon the pillow that I shed

She don’t care about my big screen
Or my collection of DVDs
Things like that just never mattered much to her
Plus she don’t watch too much TV
And she don’t care that I could fly her
To places she ain’t never been
But if she really wants to go I think deep down she knows that
All she has to say is when

*When.*

She likes me for me
Not because I hang with Leonardo
Or that guy who played in ‘Fargo’
I think his name is Steve
She’s the one for me
And I just can’t live without her
My arms belong around her
And I’m so glad I found her once again
And I’m so glad I found her once again
And I’m so glad I found her once again

*I’ve gotta give the boy points for romance,* thought Cordy dreamily.

Gazing at the ceiling as we entertain our feelings in the dark

*How come I don’t remember this part?*

The things that we’re afraid of are gonna show us what
We’re made of in the end . . .

She likes me for me
Not because I sing like Pavarotti
Or because I’m such a hottie
I like her for her
Not because she’s phat like Cindy Crawford

*WHAT?*

She has got so much to offer
Why does she waste all her time with me
There must be something there that I don’t see
That I don’t see
She likes me for me
Not because I’m tough like Dirty Harry
Make her laugh just like Jim Carrey
Unlike the Cable Guy
But what she sees
Is that I can’t live without her
My arms belong around her
And I’m so glad I found her once again
Found her once again
Once again
Yeah I’m so glad I found her once again . . .

Silence.

Oz discreetly re-packed his guitar and moved off back towards his van, but neither Cordy nor Xander noticed. Cordy had eyes only for Xander, and he was watching her watching him. Was she pleased with his little song?

Hell, yeah, she was pleased. She leaned over the railing, trying to hide the full extent of her delight.

“Are you gonna pull a Romeo and come up here?”

Sure, why not? He wanted to, but . . . Xander eyed the balcony nervously. It was several feet above his head. “Um . . . how?”

Cordy furrowed her brow in thought.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She disappeared from his sight.

Moments later, she came back, briskly knotting together two of her Chinese silk sheets. “You any good at climbing ropes?” she called out to him, tossing one end over the edge of the balcony and securing the other end tightly against the railing.

“Um . . . why?”

“You can use these.”

He stared at the expensive bedding dangling in front of him and laughed awkwardly.

“You want me to scale that? Can’t we . . . uh . . . talk like this? You, up there, and me, safe down here. I feel very comfortable in your lawn. It’s . . . you know, homey. In a manicured, golf-course sort of way. And there are flowers. Lots of flowers. I like flowers. It’s nice down here. Can’t I stay down here? With the flowers?”

She gave him a disappointed look, and he sighed. He grabbed the swinging end of the sheets and began a’climbin’.

“I’m coming up.”

He was rewarded with a sweet smile and was gratified. Sort of.

Xander tried very hard not to look down. “If I fall . . .” But it was best not to think of that. So he didn’t.

“The song was a sweet thought, Xander,” purred Cordy once he had made it all the way up without incident. She reached out and began lightly drawing patterns on his arm.

Was his heart racing because of his death-defying climb or because she was standing so close to him? The climb, right?

“I really appreciated it.” A soft kiss.

Scratch that. It was Cordelia, all the way. Gimme some lovin’, baby!

She stepped back away from him, and Xander tried to hide his disappointment. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket half-sullenly. That was it? No more kisses for the Conquering Hero? No profuse declarations of love and gratitude for his undeniably fantastic performance? His fingers brushed against the delicate chain of the locket, and he pulled it out almost grouchily.

“Here’s the necklace, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She lifted her hair away from the nape of her neck and turned her back to him. “Put it on?”

He did, then stared out into her spacious lawn, still cross.

She faced him again, a smile playing on the corners of her lips.

“Xander.”

He glanced up at her, saw the teasing look in her eyes.

“About that song of yours . . .”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Couple of things. First of all, you don’t have a car.”

He began frowning, but she rushed on quickly. “No, no, it’s okay, cause I do. And even though playing chauffeur is like, totally overrated, I . . . I like driving you around.”

“Cordy . . .” but she raised her hand to stop him.

“Second of all, money is an issue too, cause it can get you a lot of things in life . . . like flowers. Or candy. Or heart-shaped lockets. But . . . you’re different. Just . . . you just are. Your occasional gift is more special to me than the daily delivery of roses by some rich, European count who’s due to inherit from a castle and a lot of money . . .” she giggled at the thought, and her eyes glazed over for a second. “Never mind. Bad example.”

She cleared her throat delicately and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“And the Tyson thing . . . Ty is the ultimate specimen of a manly man, but,” and here she threw his earlier words back at him, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

He began to smile.

“Robert Redford, he’s okay, but a little old. He was way cuter when he was younger. The charm thing still applies, though, I think. Did you see him in Up Close and Personal?”

“No, but . . .”

“Big screen and DVDs. You don’t have those, do you? No? Well, I’ll slide on that too. I am not all that shallow, you know.” Cordy tapped her finger on her chin thoughtfully, before adding, “By the way, I do watch TV. So you don’t have a 52 inch, so what? I’ll make an exception in your case.”

“You’re so generous,” he mumbled under his breath.

She flashed him a 500 mega-watt smile and went on. “And are you really gonna fly me to places I’ve never been? Cause you know, there aren’t many places I’ve never been.”

Xander looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“Hmm…Guam? Romania?”

“Cordy . . . I’m sort of broke right now, can I take a rain check on that?”

“Venezuela? Swaziland?” she said musingly. “I’ll have to think about that. Anyway, back to my analysis. Leonardo, totally over. Fargo, never even saw it. Pavarotti?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not much for opera. Now that Cindy Crawford thing . . .”

He sighed. Why did he feel like he was being criticized? He knew that her intentions were good, but c’mon, Cordy! Say something nice! Suddenly he grinned.

“You skipped over that ‘hottie’ bit,” he interrupted.

She blinked. “What?”

“Not because I’m such a hottie,” he sang.

“Oh.” Cordy inspected her nails closely. “Well, I think you’re . . . you know.”

“I’m what?” insisted Xander.

“I told you before.”

“I want to hear it again.”

She conceded.

“You’re sort of a Tyson,” she admitted, blushing slightly. Then she smacked him. “I told you that already! Stop fishing for compliments!”

He recoiled, laughing. His wounded ego was placated at her response. Cordy crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him impatiently.

“May I continue?”

He gave a little bow in her direction. “Please do.”

“About Cindy Crawford. I am so not fat! My trainer would have a fit if he heard you say that! I am not fat! And for that matter, neither is she! So what was that all about? Fat? I was very insulted, Xander, how can you even say . . .”

“Not lardball fat, Cor, Pretty Hot and Tempting phat.”

“Oh.” Again she smiled that smile that made him go weak inside. “Okay then.” Suddenly she frowned again.

“Not because she’s phat like Cindy Crawford . . .” She narrowed her eyes. “Those were the words, right?”

He didn’t pick up on the warning signals immediately. “Yeah, why?”

“I am phat! I am totally phat! What did you mean I wasn’t phat?”

“Cordy . . .” he began.

“I don’t know if you said that on purpose and you really think I’m not phat or anything, but . . .”

“Cordy . . .” he tried again.

“. . . I really think that you should have said something like ‘She’s as phat as Cindy Crawford’ or something.”

Xander chuckled. “Cordy, it’s only a song. Do you know how ridiculous you sound?”

She glared at him, her eyes flashing fire. “What . . .”

He silenced her with a kiss.

And she smiled, and kissed him back.

And Xander was happy, and Cordy was happy, and she was quiet, cause they were kissing, so all was well. At last.

Thank God!