I actually wrote this like the day after The Gift and TNPLPG aired, but it really didn't have much of a plot or ending, so I just put it away. I wasn't going to send it, but I re-read it and I figured I might as well...Like I said, it's not really a complete fic, just some thoughts...And I haven't written Cordy much, so forgive me if it's not very good...
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. I wouldn't have killed Buffy if I did!
Author's Notes: This is a jumbled, rather pointless piece. I wrote it right after "The Gift" and "There's No Place Like Pltz Grlb" (spelling?) Just a Cordy POV on the whole thing.

"It's Buffy," he said. It was always Buffy. No, that's not true. For a few months it was Darla-another little blond chick, of course. Angel definitely has a thing for blonds.

It was Buffy, again. When we'd gotten him back. When he was Angel again, part of the gang, part of the.the family. When he was smiling.

I want to hate her for that, but she's dead and it doesn't quite seem fair. It's not like I want her to have *not* saved the world if it would mean less Angel-brooding. But why did she have to do it like that? She'd saved the world before, and come out okay. Why did this time have to be different? Why did this time have to pull my boss's heart out and trample it on the floor?

I want to think she was being selfish, but she died saving the world. Was she supposed to think of how it was going to be after she salvaged it?

"It's Buffy," he said, but I don't think Willow heard. She was just gazing at us with those big, wet eyes. She looked.different. Older. God, it'd been like two years since I saw her. Weird. And she was gay now, I recalled vaguely. Too bad that didn't happen earlier. Say *before* she stole my boyfriend.I'm not really bitter about it anymore. In fact, I'm kinda glad it happened. Somehow, through whatever circumstances, it landed me in LA, with my friends, with my head-splitting visions and nauseating commercial roles. It's funny how things work out sometimes.

"I'm sorry," Willow said finally, her voice breaking a little, trembling. Her hands were clenched very tightly, as if she was holding on to something for dear life. There wasn't anything there.

"She's dead," Angel said-breathed, really, except he couldn't breath. It was really quiet, but then the room was so hushed that I think everyone heard him anyway. Willow didn't say anything, but her eyes confirmed the worst. I put out a hand to Angel, but he was gone before I could touch him, moving beyond human contact. He seemed so far away suddenly, even though he'd only taken a step. And then another. And another. Before I could form words he was gone, up the stairs, away, hiding. Gone. How long would it take to get him back this time? I wondered.

Damn her and her sacred duty and their stupid eternal love. Guess it's not so eternal anymore, huh? Or maybe it is, just one-sided.

Gunn recovered first, probably cause he had no emotional investment, or idea what was going on. Fred had grown very quiet again, drawn into herself, staring around with wide eyes. "Who's Buffy?" Gunn asked quietly, glancing apologetically at Willow. Wesley and I found ourselves in a moment. Wesley walked to Willow, put a hand on her shoulder, offered to get her something to drink, suggested she should sit down.

"I'm okay," she said quietly. One thing Willow obviously hadn't learned since I left Sunnydale was the fine art of lying. She looked like hell.

"Buffy is.um, was.the Slayer," I attempted to explain, earning another blank look from Gunn. How had we never told him this? I looked desperately at Wesley, hoping he'd switch me places. He seemed willing, so I gathered up Willow and scooted her toward the kitchen to get some water while Wesley gave the "one girl in all the world" spiel. Heard it, thanks. And there's two now, anyway. No, that's not right. One. Maybe. Will there be another one since Buffy died? Or is Faith it now? Scary thought.

"And Angel knew her?" Gunn inquired. We could hear their conversation easily through the open doors of the hotel. I sat Willow at the kitchen table and got her some water. She didn't drink it. I sat down opposite her and we turned as one to hear Wesley's explanation.

"She was Angel's lover," Wesley said quietly. "His.his soulmate, one might say. When he lost his soul it was.Buffy gave him true happiness, which is something he can never have, and so he left her, to keep them both safe. Last month when he left town for a night? Buffy's mother died. He went to see her."

I found Willow had turned away from Wesley's voice, to look at me. I swallowed nervously. What was I going to say? For once in my life I *wanted* to be tactful-I may not have liked the girl, but she'd saved my life a few times, and she was Willow's best friend. "What happened?" I asked.

"The, um.the walls between the dimensions were going to come down," Willow explained, "Hell on earth. The only thing that could stop it was Dawn's death-it's a long story-and Buffy wouldn't let that happen. She took Dawn's death.stopped the portal from opening."

".saved the world," I finished. Willow nodded and took a sip of water after all. "When?"

"Last night. We called, but no one was here and I thought it would be.be better to do it in person anyway." The rest of her words were left unsaid: like anything could make it better.

"Can you stay?" I asked, glancing involuntarily in the direction of Angel's room. "H-he'll probably want to see you. To hear how. Once the shock has, um, worn off."

"For a while," Willow promised. I nodded, silent again, awkward.

"Thank you," I said finally, "for coming. And.I'm sorry." She looked up at me, her eyes widening again, that look on her face, that pained, barely-holding-on look. I steeled myself and said it. After all, what can it hurt me to admit it? She's dead now. There's nothing left to be jealous of. Yes, jealous. That's what I said. Would you like me to repeat it? "She was an amazing person."

"Yes," Willow agreed, obviously battling tears. "She was." Maybe she knew how hard it was for me to say that, because she added, "Thanks."

I put my hand out, on top of hers, and we sat there in silence, remembering Buffy Summers.

*

Back to the jealousy thing: I never really liked Buffy, but she was.she had all the things I never had. It was easy at first to say she was a weird-o, a freak, a dork.but she really never was. She was cute-not as cute as me, but cute-she had all the things I admired back in high school, except a bitchy attitude. No, wait, scratch that. She had a 'tude, it was just directed the wrong way. Anyway, she had looks, fashion sense, and well.okay, so that was pretty much *all* I admired back in high school.Not a lot of money, but enough that I didn't feel the need to scorn her.

I didn't scorn her. Not until she scorned *me*. Me. She actually chose Willow Rosenburg and Xander Harris over me, Cordelia Chase. I guess she was the first person that really screwed with my happy little world. No one had ever, *ever* challenged the social order at Sunnydale High before. At least not in our grade. I didn't care if dweebs like Xander and Willow didn't like me. They were beneath me anyway. But when Buffy Summers deliberately chose them over me, it was like.a wake up call. Maybe I wasn't a great person to be friends with.

I squashed the thought of course. It didn't disturb my pretty little head for quite some time, but it was lurking there in the back. Buffy had friends, real friends. She had guys all over her (though I really don't know why-like I said, she wasn't *that* cute). Owen, Angel.(It's so weird to think I tried to date him. Did I mention life works out in strange ways?) When I became a pseudo-member of the Scooby Gang, it became even more apparent that she had friends that would die for her while I had enemies that would die to bring me down. On top of that, Buffy was a Super Chick. I had no real skills, besides being gorgeous and bitchy. Buffy could save the world. Not like I had *any* desire to be the Slayer, but at least she had a purpose.

After I started dating Xander-really dating him-I found another thing I could never equal Buffy in. Xander's affection. No matter what he felt for me.he would die for Buffy (or Willow as it turned out).for me, he might get injured. Maybe. He was the first person besides Kevin I really cared about, and I was a distant second in his affections.probably third.

I was finally moving on, you know. I left Sunnydale behind for good. No more freakish nights filled with icky things. No more Buffy Summers. And then Angel came along. I'm glad he did, I really am. Besides the fact that it saved my life, I finally.I guess I finally feel like I belong somewhere. But I just couldn't get rid of Buffy. Now she's this spectre. Angel's gotten better, partly cause he was obsessed with Darla and partly cause he's actually getting a life, but.she's always there. We're getting coffee some night and there's a blond on the corner, and he gets this look.Angel kills a certain kind of demon that he once killed with Buffy, and wham, it's brooding for a week.And I know that I'm still second in affections. Which is fine. I mean, Buffy and Angel have this.thing, and no one's ever gonna explain it, or end it, or whatever. And Angel's like.a big brother or something, and I know his thing with Buffy is *so* different, and there's no comparison and BLEH, I so don't want there to be.but am I ever, ever gonna find someone to whom *I* am the most important person on the face of the planet?

Buffy's dead. I try not to think about her in my everyday life-or ever-but I guess I always have this feeling that I don't need to worry about the world ending, unless I have a vision about it, because Buffy will take care of any other "problems." Only she's not there anymore. There's been like four almost-apocalypses since I've known Buffy-all of which she's stopped. Now the only Slayer is in jail. Who's gonna save the world? The vampire-with-a-soul that is currently a heaving wreck, unable to deal with actual conversation much less an apocalypse? We save souls. We're good at that. The apocalypse thing.that was more Buffy's thing.

But she lost. Or did she? She saved the world, and she died. She's gone. But the world's still here. Ugh. This hero stuff sucks.

*

Wesley got up the nerve to face Willow eventually. Gunn took Fred home, and the three of us sat around the table talking about the events leading up to Buffy's death, reminscing over old times. Pretending they were good times. They really weren't great. Okay, there were a couple okays, but on the whole, it was pretty miserable. It was high school.

There was nothing from Angel's room, and after a while we got worried. He had pointy objects up there. He wouldn't.?

"Someone should go talk to him," I said, hoping that Wesley would volunteer. He gave me a look.

"I'll go," Willow volunteered. Oh God no. If I let Willow go in, when I was supposedly one of Angel's best friends.I just couldn't.

"No, it's fine," I said, standing before they could say anything. "I'll just check up on him."

I crept up the stairs, hating the fact that I was doing this. What had become of me? I didn't bother to knock on the door-if he answered at all, it would be to tell me to leave. I just walked right in. And stopped. Where the hell was he?

I heard him before I saw him. He was sitting on the floor, against the wall.shaking. He wasn't making any noise, but his entire body was shaking. He didn't look up at me, and when I got closer I realized that there were tears running down his cheeks. I'd never seen him cry before.

"Angel?" I whispered, kneeling down in front of him. I'd changed while Wesley made tea. It was nice being a princess, but it's also nice to be back in cotton. He flinched. I put a hand on his knee. He looked like.like a little boy. Usually when he's upset he punches something. I guess this kinda went beyond upset. I hated seeing him like that. It made my stomach feel bad.

I heard his voice finally, quietly. "I made a deal," he whispered. "I gave back my humanity, so I could protect her. But I never asked if it would *work*."

Oh. The humanity thing again. "You have another chance," I reminded him.though really, after the whole Darla-thing, who knows if he really does.

"For what?" he appealed. "I don't even know why I want to be human anymore. She taught me to fight and she.she lost. Did she lose?"

Oh god, I was starting to cry. There were tears in my eyes. Damn it. "I think she won," I said. "She saved the world, and Dawn, and everyone but herself."

"I should have been there. I gave my life back so I could protect her.and I didn't protect her."

"I don't think there's anything you could have done Angel," I attempted. "It was this weird thing with Dawn.only her blood, or Buffy's, would have worked." Seeing him there, looking so pathetic, blaming himself, I started to get angry. "It's not your fault Angel! It's her own fault, okay? She did it to herself. Willow told us-she made the choice. And if you sit here and tell me that you could have done something, or you should have, I will *smack* you Angel! And if you tell me you should have died for her, I will.I'll make you sing karaoke for a month! You had a responsibility-to *us*! Go ahead, cry-mourn! But don't you *dare* pretend this is your fault!"

Okay, I was a little emotional. I think it's understandable, given the circumstances.

And then Angel moved and I moved and somehow he ended up collapsing in my arms, crying. Yes, my eyes watered a little.I admit it. I'm not totally heartless. So I held him while he cried. I hated Buffy, for making him feel like that. And maybe I appreciated her a little more, because even if Angel was crying, at least he was *feeling*.

Wesley didn't go home that night. Willow stayed too, for a while, and Angel came downstairs and had something to eat. We all sat around and we talked about her. She was.annoying, whiny, selfish, and often thoughtless. And she died saving her sister's life. And Angel loved her. I may never understand why, but Angel loved her. Willow loved her. Giles loved her and Xander loved her. Everyone loved her.

Angel went into full brood mode. He's not out of it yet and it's been.a while. I don't know if he'll ever be out of it. I don't understand what they had. I don't know if I ever will. But someday, it might be nice to have someone who would cry like that if something happened to me.

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