LipstickCordelia slid past her mother, who sat at the dining room table grumpy without her coffee. She knew she had a huge smile on her face but it wasn’t something she could help, that little tilt of her lips that just said: I got some, how ‘bout you?
Unfortunately, her mother had never much been in the mood to see her daughter smiling.
“How many football players did you screw last night?” Her mother asked conversationally. Cordelia’s hand stilled for one second as she reached for the creamer for her own coffee. Then she picked it up with the determination of a woman who knew just how fucked up the world really was.
“Sorry mother, you must be slipping. It was the Soccer team.”
Cordelia’s mother sighed, and bit into her fat-free Danish.
“Well, a mother can only hope, that her daughter would pick the right sport to whore for. Really, Cordelia - you disappoint me.” The words were like a slap, but of course, Cordelia didn’t bother to avoid it, or even flinch from its impact. She sailed on the words, all the way to school, even when her big pumps slid on the gas accidentally and she almost drove straight into a huge truck at the red light.
The man in the car beside her, with his I’m-a-lawyer suite and phone visible, looked over at her with admiring, yet condescending eyes. ‘Yes, you’re just a piece of ass. That’s all you’ll ever be… but would you like to have dinner tonight?’
In the brown-striped station wagon behind her, a harried mother blared her horn.
Cordelia jerked her eyes up, and sure enough, the red light had turned green. Pulling out, she stopped the shaking from the near miss, from the look in lawyer-boys eyes…
It was the price of beauty, she reminded herself, cruising down the interstate, with the top up to avoid ruining her hair. And you had to accept that price, and all the nasty comments, and feet pains that came along with it. But for a moment, just a moment… she wanted the top down.
They would laugh, she knew… if they learned just how bad the Queen C was cracking up.
* * *
Buffy had a little pep to her walk when she entered the school. Granted, Cordelia was still… edging away from emotion, but at least she had accepted Buffy in her bed. And maybe, just maybe it hurt a little… enough that she wanted to do some of those not so nice things… do what she had done in the first place.
Blackmail Cordelia into caring for her.
She hadn’t realized how hard it would be. The waiting. Of course she’d known that she couldn’t REALLY black mail Cordelia into caring for her, but she had thought… had hoped, that making it so that Cordelia had no choice but to be around her… she might come to have some NEED for her. Then came love and what… a white picket fence? Hardly. She would be lucky to be alive in the next two years.
Happily ever after just wasn’t in her cards. So she was gonna take what she could, with what time allowed. And if her heart was hurting a little, she’d blame it on the diet Pepsi she drank like a perpetual bad habit.
It was NOT because her own little game had backfired on her. Not because a simple seduction had turned into much… MUCH more.
Bufy wasn’t so peppy anymore.
Didn’t matter that she had gotten some.
The bell for first period rang. Buffy took a deep breath, and prepared herself, like a diver about to take the plunge.
* * *
Lunch was something to be feared. You never knew what was going to pop out of the shaking, purple jello. Buffy watched as Willow poked at it with her fork in a most scientific way. Finally, with a wrinkled nose, she began poking at it too.
Just what was IN that jello? It looked like pieces of fruit, but… gah, Buffy wasn’t even sure she wanted to know anymore.
Xander plopped down beside Willow, shaking the table rudely and reaching around Willow’s shoulder to grab her fork and stab at her jello. Both Willow and Buffy swallowed hard as Xander swallowed the chunk and made a face.
“Needs sugar.” He stated, but continued to eat the jello. Willow gladly pushed her plate at him.
“Pig.” She mumbled.
“What’s that Willow?” Xander asked smiling, teeth purple. Willow concealed her laughter behind her hand, and jolted as Oz gave her a kiss on the cheek. The smile slowly faded from Xander’s face. Buffy realized that there was still tension there, even now, and felt it straight down to her gut.
Fuck, was everyone getting their hearts stepped on?
Buffy did her own jolting, when a tray slammed down next to her, and she turned to find Cordelia sitting there. She wore less make up then usual, but still looked perfect. Maybe ‘natural’ was in now, Buffy could hardly keep up with the fashion magazines.
“Hi.” Cordelia said, then began to pick at her salad. Not really eating it. Just kinda sitting there staring at it like it might climb into her mouth. Buffy was stunned, and knew she sat like an idiot with her mouth hanging open, but couldn’t really do much about it. Noticing the look on her… Buffy, just Buffy’s face, Cordelia snapped at her. “What?”
Buffy’s mouth closed and her teeth clicked together. Her eyes narrowed in consideration, wondering just what game Cordelia had planned for them this afternoon. What was the battle plan? Get Buffy to say something, slip up, and reveal her new “I’m a big Lesbo” status to the world?
Anger grew like a spit-fire, right where it hurt.
The Slayer realized her friends were watching, expecting some sharp retort or insult between the two, and it was her turn to talk.
In the coldest, hardest voice she could muster, which wasn’t very difficult at the moment and brought out the bitch within.
“Oh, I don’t know CORDLELIA. Maybe the fact that your sitting at this table, taking up space that could be better used with no one sitting there at all.”
The words slipped out, from some dark place inside and instantly Buffy felt shame wash over her. Maybe it was because of the hiss of air from all around her, people pulling in breath out of shock. Was that weird Buffy SUMMERS nipping at the Queen? No, that wasn’t it. It was the stunned look on Cordelia’s face, like she truly hadn’t expected it. Then the slow, hard mask that slipped over her features like a well-worn dress. Fitting in all the right places.
The realization that Cordelia had come to her without a battle plan, without a goal but to sit next to the woman, who hours before had made her cum again and again and again… But Buffy couldn’t take the words back, not here, when everyone was watching. So she just sat there like a robot without movable arms, as Cordelia stood slowly, like a rising empress and looked down at her.
The whole cafeteria had gone quite, like a grave yard. It should have been comforting, after all, she KNEW grave yards. But… it wasn’t.
It was like a move show frame by frame. Cordelia reached over the table, picking up the jello from her ex-boyfriends palms and turned to Buffy. Then gently, with two fingers she lifted the top of Buffy’s shirt away from her skin… and dumped the rest of that purple jello in. She gasped and jumped from her seat even as Cordelia pressed her palm against the shirt, smearing it in.
Then she just stood there like a plastic action figure: She-woman made of plastic, without bendable joints, as Cordelia moved calmly through the crowd of on-lookers. Silence followed her for a long moment. Out the cafeteria doors and down the hallway, then a ripple, like the sway of the Queen’s hips went through the room… and it burst into loud noise, all at once.
Willow and Oz just stared at her with twin looks of dumbfounded shock.
“Jeeze, Buffy.” Xander complained, staring longingly at her shirt. “I was gonna eat that.”
“Don’t even think about it Xander.” Buffy said quietly, eyes on the retreating figure.
There were hearts getting stepped on. Jello ran down her stomach and into the waist of her jeans. And there were stupid people stepping on hearts.
* * *
Yeah, so she was furious. That was a given. She’d taken one chance, one FUCKING chance… and she’d been wrong.
Just how gullible are you, Cordelia? She asked herself this, staring into the mirror of the girl’s bathroom. It didn’t feel like answering her, instead it shot an image of herself back at her and made her flinch.
Just WHO are you?
A crack ran down the mirror, from someone or something careless. And it split her in two, right down the middle. She stared at it in fascination before she was snapped out of her daze by the squeaking of the bathroom door. With an air of distain, Cordelia gripped her make up bag and unzipped it.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Buffy turn on the faucet and take a brown paper towel [the kind that really felt like paper], and began rinsing her purple stained neck, and scrubbing beneath her shirt. Her shirt bounced out, over her belly, leaving the skin near her navel bare.
Cordelia turned her eyes away, wrapping unsteady fingers around the tube of earthy lipstick that wasn’t all the rage exactly, but looked great on her. Leaning forward, eyes dead set on her own in the reflection, she pressed the waxy lipstick to her lips and painted them. It hid the marks from her teeth.
Buffy turned the water off and the quiet was such a startle that Cordelia flinched and the lipstick smeared just a little off her lips, right at the corner. Cursing bloody murder, she spun on the Slayer, expecting a stake in the back or SOMETHING. Just not the face of remorse she got. And remorse certainly wasn’t what she wanted from Buffy. She wasn’t sure WHAT she wanted.
Buffy’s blue eyes were almost gray at that moment, as she stood right before Cordelia, not touching her… just standing. Their bodies rested almost against each other, and Cordelia was acutely aware of the unlocked bathroom doors and Buffy’s words from so shortly ago, ringing through her ears.
So, if Buffy thought she was such wasted space - what the hell did she get out of tasting her? Cordelia’s face flushed in shame, it prickled up her spine and burned her cheeks.
Used. Cordelia Chase had been USED.
Something stung her tongue. Maybe pride, and her mouth stayed closed even as Buffy’s eyes begged for something more than… who knew? Buffy wasn’t making much sense herself, so she couldn’t exactly blame Cordelia for being slightly tight lipped.
Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, on a sigh. When she opened them again, there was resolve sitting in there depths. Cordelia took a step back, butt cheeks banging into the porcelain of the sink. But Buffy made no move for her, just brought her arms down from where they were crossed over her stomach, and let them rest at her sides.
Open. Cordelia felt the word rise up and press her throat closed. Buffy was opening herself up like a book with pages written in bold ink.
In her eyes, the gray-blue-strange colored depths of them… Buffy was alone, so alone - like she had this image to fill and nobody could understand. The world on her bony shoulders, and it was pressing her down, forcing her heart into her belly where it was of little use. Cordelia had a hard time watching, it was like looking at the sun too long and going blind to the world around you.
“Do whatever you want,” she heard Buffy say, and her heart began to pump as though through molasses.
WHAT did she want to do? The lipstick was in her hand. Unsure of herself, or really what she was doing, Cordelia brought the tube up in the air, and Buffy flinched back, raising a hand up as if it were the natural thing to ward off a blow. “What are…”
“I don’t KNOW.” Frustrated, Cordelia dropped her arm. It had been stupid anyway, but she’d wanted something of hers on Buffy. Wanted to see what Buffy looked like all painted up.
“You can.” Buffy said suddenly and Cordelia jerked her head up. “Just not the… face.”
“Then where would I…” Caught the look in Buffy’s eyes. “Oh. Uh…” Taking a chance herself, Buffy gripped the edge of her shirt, and dragged it over her head. Cordelia caught her breath, heart lodged inside her throat.
“Here.” Buffy said, pointing at her stomach. Uncertainly, Cordelia nodded and bent at the waist. Her thick, dark hair fanned over her face and tickled the white, purple streaked stomach before her. Her breaths made the skin jerk as she leaned forward and slowly, with care, drew a circle in peach around Buffy’s belly button. The Slayer giggled, and Cordelia stared up in surprise. “It tickles… a little.”
“The Slayer is ticklish.” Cordelia murmured. “I’ll file that under, ‘need to know weaknesses’ then.” She drew a small smiley face on the left side of her stomach, taking care to put eyelashes on the eyes. Then she drew a sun above that smiley face, accidentally smudging the edge of Buffy’s bra with the lipstick. “Sorry.” But when she looked up, Buffy’s cheeks were red with heat, and her eyes had that glitter in them.
“That’s okay,” she said breathlessly. Cordelia paused for a moment, considering. “How about - up here?” Buffy suggested jerkily, pointing at her breasts. Cordelia nodded a little and stood away as Buffy gripped her sports bra and ripped it over her head in a savage motion that sent her hair flying up and going wild with static. Laughing, Cordelia went over to her and gently smoothed the hair down.
Buffy’s eyes were serious and watchful when she met them. Cordelia wanted to kiss her. So she did, very softly, on the edge of the mouth. And then sweetly, but firmly, on Buffy’s open lips. The Slayer parted her mouth instantly on a soft moan that puffed out hot air into the Cordelia’s mouth. “You’re not done yet, are you?” Buffy whispered, eyes fluttering as she fought the overwhelming need to just shove Cordelia away, then grasp her closer and take the control back.
“Not even close.” Cordelia brought her hands up, and cupped Buffy’s breasts lightly, brushing her nails over the peaked nipples. “What you said to me wasn’t very nice.”
“I know that,” Buffy muttered through gritted teeth, breasts aching for a firmer touch. “Don’t you think I know that?”
Cordelia agreed that she DID know that, then leaned down and took a nipple between her teeth, gently biting. There was no pain, just a quiet agony of desire welling up Buffy’s torso like a hot, willing Volcano.
“Maybe,” Cordelia began, hair fanning over Buffy’s breasts and riding the rocking waves of her stomach. “Maybe, this just isn’t going to work out.” Buffy’s eyes snapped open, fog clouded her vision, but she tried… Cordelia’s lips closed hot and wet and FINALLY over her nipple, tongue darting out to wet just the very tip. Like a soaked, probing finger.
“W-what?” Cordelia pressed a finger over Buffy’s lips and she immediately became silent. Then Cordelia was drawing on her again, and her pink nipples were suddenly peach with lipstick. The hardened to the point where she could feel her blood throbbing there like two little antenna’s screaming: Send your signal HERE.
“I mean that we’ve hated each other for so long.” Cordelia explained, as if to a child, but her other hand, the one not painting Buffy into a living piece of art, was slowly unbuttoning the jeans that were splattered with dried up Jello. “Maybe it’s not worth the sex, to have to put up with each other.”
Buffy’s mouth fell open in a silent moan of denial and arousal and Cordelia went to her knees. Her tongue slipped through the part in the pants, past the zipper, and Buffy lost her ability to speak at all. Cordelia swirled her tongue around Buffy’s hard clit, the fabric of her panties just gave extra friction. Buffy’s fingers came down to tangle in Cordelia’s hair, gentle urging her in the right direction, but Cordelia wouldn’t be budged. Buffy tucked her hips lower, but Cordelia just moved with it, until Buffy was laid out on the floor, her pants around her knees, with Cordelia’s head between her thighs.
Cordelia licked up and down the slit, making small sounds of delight as the taste came back to her from what seemed like so long ago. In reality, it had only been days. She shoved her tongue deep, past the panties, and got frustrated with the teasing herself, and pushed the cotton out of the way, pressing her tongue into the folds and flicking. Buffy’s hips twitched and her head rolled across the cold floor, mouth hanging open as breath panted out.
Her hair tangled around her face as she looked down at the mouth and face driving her wild. All the way down her stomach were peach lip prints, and there, just above her mounds of her breasts… she could vaguely making out the shape of a heart and initials inside of it.
C. C.
Cordelia’s initials.
Throwing her head back, Buffy locked her legs over Cordelia’s shoulders and let out a cry that would of set off the alarms if she hadn’t stifled it by biting her fist hard enough to draw blood.
Cordelia moved up Buffy’s stomach, planting deliberate kisses along the way. Taking one slow lick at a time. Buffy felt devoured, like someone had just eaten her to the core. Laughing a little madly, she wrapped her hands behind Cordelia’s neck and pulled her down. Cordelia’s body pressed her urgently into the floor, hips rocking against Buffy’s thigh.
But after kissing her for a very long time, when Buffy’s fingers were sliding down the backs of her pants, Cordelia pulled back and stared into Buffy’s eyes.
“How’s that for space?” She said and Buffy’s face stilled for a second, and then her hands slowly withdrew.
“What?” Buffy asked. Cordelia pushed herself up off the floor, standing and looking where Buffy lay sprawled in a heap of satisfied lust.
“You know,” Cordelia continued. “We always end up here. In between each other’s thighs in tits. Going around in circles. Like the bitches that we both know we are.”
“Your point?” Buffy got up, pulling her panties over the V of her thighs and re-fastening them.
“I’m just saying nothing’s really changed.” Cordelia looked in the mirror, and fixed her make up, talking like she wasn’t standing on her own damn heart. “We fuck, we fight, we say and do shit to humiliate each other. It’s getting kind of repetitive, if you ask me.”
“I don’t think I understand.” But her face was pale.
“I’m saying that we should continue doing this.” Cordelia pointed to the red scrawls across Buffy’s torso… avoiding looking directly at the signature she hadn’t realized she’d drawn there. “But maybe we should avoid each other the rest of the time.” It would hurt less, Cordelia thought. And maybe she wouldn’t crack up to pieces like dried up mud. “Hating each other, doesn’t a good relationship make.”
“You tell me this NOW?” Buffy’s face went red again, this time for a whole different reason. “After I let you…” She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Sex isn’t a weapon!”
“Then maybe YOU should stop treating it like it is!” Cordelia shot back, make up perfect, clothes back in place. “Make up your mind Buffy. Are we enemies? Are we going to sit together in class and be buddy-buddy? Or maybe we’re just gonna fuck on weekends? What’s it gonna be?”
Cordelia turned on her heel, and stalked to the door. It was still unlocked and her heart gave a hard shudder at that realization. How dangerous… her loins thickened and she took a deep breath and denied the throbbing its release.
“Cordelia,” Buffy called softly, in a voice that made her feet stick like cement into the ground. “I don’t…. hate you.” The admission hung heavy in the air, and the next words slammed into her back and forced her scurrying out the door and down the hall. “I think… I think I kinda love you.”
Alone, Buffy glanced sullenly in the mirror. God she was a mess. But she didn’t wash up. No, she just slid on her bra and t-shirt and fixed her hair so it didn’t look like she’d… been rolling around on the floor having sex.
When the door swung closed behind her, the tube of lipstick rolled out from where it had fell underneath the sink. It left a long, peach trail across the tile.