NOTE: My 'Cordyverse' stories to date are, Exodus 20:12, Cordelia Chase:
Working Mom, Crime Scene Investigations, Soccer Mom, Scenes From a
Cop
Bar, and The Best of Intentions. This one should clear everything
up
quite nicely, I think.
*****
The Road From Hell
Don Bentley
"Boss? They're 'ere."
Cordelia turned away from the recovery room door. The paint wasn't
telling her anything new no matter how hard she stared at it.
"Where?"
"Nurses' station."
The corridor was filled with cops. All her officers and those
of the
intelligence cell who weren't on duty were there. They'd stay
camped
out in the halls until they were needed elsewhere, or until given the
reassurance they craved. They all desperately needed that reassurance,
'cause next time they could be the one behind the hospital room door.
"Where's Mac?"
"Sent 'im an' Kerry to the station to double check with the int
wallahs. Just in case."
"Damn. I should've-"
"Yeah, but don't worry. We won't 'old it against you."
Looking over Walthorpe's shoulder she could see Tara and Willow, Leah
Epstein, and the three kids, Alex, Charlie, and AJ.
Alexandra Joyce Harris was huddled in a chair, hiding her tall and
usually energetic twelve-year-old frame behind crossed arms as she
tried
to sink back into the cheap vinyl of the chair. She was avoiding
eye
contact with anyone by staring at her shoes and letting her long brown
hair fall down the sides of her face. Beside her, their bodies
rigid
with the dignity and fierce protective loyalty of two Roman centurions,
stood her two best friends, her brother Alex and Cordelia's son
Charlie. Two young men, aged eleven.
Cordelia had to turn away from the sight of her son standing sentry
over
his stricken friend. His jaw was clenched, and he would flex
it
unconsciously in a vain attempt to reduce his tension.
I love you, Gunn, she prayed. I miss you.
"Alright, Boss?"
"Just a sec, 'kay?"
"Yeah. Looks just like 'im, doesn't 'e?"
"Yeah," she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Okay.
Let's
get this the Hell over with."
"Boss."
Charlie caught sight of his mom as she passed through a knot of police
officers by the nurse's station. He wanted to run into her arms
and
hold her and make her promise to never leave him. Not like his
dad had
had to, and Alex and AJ's dad had had to. Like they had been
afraid her
mom was going to. He needed to bury himself in her arms and listen
to
her heart beat, and smell her perfume, and have her sing to him.
He
wanted to feel her arms around him 'cause then the world was a safe
place. Nothing can hurt you when you're in your mother's arms.
But he didn't move except to put a hand out to AJ's shoulder and
squeeze. On her other side Alex was doing the same thing.
The two of
them had talked quietly in the car on the way over and decided that
they'd have to protect AJ like her dad would've. If she can't
have a
dad, said Alex, brothers will do.
His mom knelt down in front of AJ.
"Sweetheart? You're mom's fine now. She's awake and she
wants to see
you," Cordelia looked up at Leah Epstein. "Cal is in with her
now.
Could you, please?"
"Of course. Alexandra, honey, let's go see your mom."
Taking her by the hand, Leah led AJ down the corridor. The cops
parted
before them, silent as the little girl walked among them.
Charlie and Alex held out until AJ turned a corner.
Charlie collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arms around his mother's
neck as great racking sobs shook his body. Alex spun about and
launched
himself at Tara and Willow, pulling them into his arms, tears pouring
down his cheeks as he too sought his mothers' embrace. Two little
boys,
aged eleven.
*****
Faith watched as Winter wiped off the bar and put the last of the
glasses in the washer. The bar was quiet, empty except for the
two of
them. The barbecue had been long over before it even began, and
the
lesbian regulars had very quickly either been brought down to the
depressed state of the cop regulars, or had left for happier places.
Like the morgue, thought Faith as she stubbed out her cigarette.
Last
one she promised herself. Would have to be, the pack was empty.
"Winter, leave that. I'll do it tomorrow."
"Meaning when?" the tall UC Sunnydale sophomore asked as she wiped her
hands off on a towel, turned off the lights over the bar, and took
the
bar stool beside Faith.
"Monday. The bar's closed tomorrow. I'll stop by long enough
to put up
a sign then head back to the hospital. Come on. I'll walk
you home.
It's dark out."
"Faith?"
"Yeah."
"I've been meaning to ask. Why is the bar called 'The Magic Box'?"
*****
"Evenin', Slayer."
Spike took his usual place on the grass, his leather duster billowing
out behind him as he sat. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from
his
pocket. One left.
"Don't mind do ya?"
The flash of light and the small cloud of sulphur were as much a part
of
the experience as the first drag. Something to be savoured in
its own
right.
"Awwww, yeah. 'Its the spot, it does."
He looked at the cigarette and shook his head slowly before stubbing
it
out in the damp grass and dropping the butt in his pocket.
"I am sorry, my love. Today was not an especially good day for
us. We
were extraordinarily lucky though. More than I think we deserve
to be
at times. I feel so very sorry for Xander, but we need Anya down
here.
Young Alexandra Joyce needs her mother, and I, I need my friend.
I know
he understands, but here or there, it is not easy to be apart."
He looked up at the stars for a long moment.
"I miss you, Buffy."
*****
Willow slipped her arms around Tara as she leaned against the door to
their son's room and watched him sleep.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"We gonna do this all night?"
"I was kinda thinking about it."
"Good, so was I."
Willow leaned in and nuzzled her wife's neck, breathing in her scent
and
holding it for a moment before releasing it slowly. Tara squirmed
lightly as Willow's breath caressed her neck.
"Tara?"
"Hmmm?"
"I was just on the phone with Giles. Told him that I'm leaving
the
project. Monday I'm going to see Dean Cregg and see if her offer
still
stands."
Tara took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment in a silent
prayer of thanks, before turning about in Willow's arms to face her.
"But you've been on it from the start. It's your project."
"You two are my life. I've been away too much, and it hasn't been
easy
on any of us. Okay?"
"I love you."
"I love you."
Wrapped in each others arms they watched their son sleep through the
night.
*****
"Would you like to come in?"
"Oh God, Winter yes," Faith kissed Winter lightly on the lips, but as
the younger woman brought her arms up to embrace her, Faith stepped
back
and drew a tender fingertip across her bottom lip. "Ask me later
okay?
When I'm less fucked up. Trust me, it will be better that way."
"Later, then."
"It's a date."
"A date."
Faith waited until Winter was in her apartment and she heard the lock
tumble before leaving for home. She took the long way and she
took her
time.
*****
Kerry McGarry sat on the hood of the car and watched her partner emerge
from the night. She never asked what he did when he went off
alone like
that. At first it was because she didn't want to know.
Later on, she
learned that for all his bravado and bluster, he was a very private
man. Very private and very lonely.
"Done?" she asked hopping down off the car.
"Done."
"Good, 'cause Mac called. Thinks he's got a nest over in the South
Ward. Want's us to join him."
"Better 'urry then, before 'Dudley' gets 'imself into trouble,"
Walthorpe said as he slid behind the wheel.
"Stop calling him that!"
*****
The nurse stood over the bed and recorded the monitor readings before
signing off on her hourly visit. The smaller of the two figures
on the
bed shifted slightly as if responding to something in a dream.
Her
mother's arm moved in response and quieted her child's distress.
Neither woke from their sleep.
The psych nurse smiled and glanced at the large man sitting in the
moonlight streaming in through the window.
"Rabbi?" she whispered.
"I'm fine, Margaret. Thank you."
*****
Faith waited until all five of them were right behind her, and starting
to close in, before turning to face her attackers.
"God, you guys are just what the doctor ordered," she smiled a cold,
frightening smile as she took a pace forward "Who's first?"
*****
The two of them hadn't moved from the couch since they got home.
He was
asleep now, his head against her breast, his arms still wrapped around
her. She was stroking his hair, watching him breath, and softly
singing
the lullaby she had sang to him as a baby.
It was an old song, though she had never heard of it until the wedding
plans were being discussed-
-"We need a first dance," she had said.
"We need a cheaper caterer. Or less people."
"'My Heart Will Go On.' Huh? What do you think?"
"I thinking that I don't even know these people so why am I feeding
them?"
Over by the counter she saw Wesley hand Angel some money.
"Hey! I told you two clowns to stop betting on my wedding plans!"
"Cordelia?"
"Gunn."
"Do you like Jim Croce?"-
-"If I could save time in a bottle,
The first thing that I'd like to do,
Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away,
Just to spend them with you."
End
"Time in a Bottle" written by Jim Croce, (Saja Music, 1974).