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Ugly Shirt

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Summary: Cordy isn't as dead as she's supposed to be. But then, neither is Buffy. Christmas present for Amusewithaview.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anita Blake > General > Humor(Past Moderator)FaithUnbreakableFR1312,4280133,51824 Dec 0724 Dec 07Yes
Disclaimer: Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon and Anita to Laurell K. Hamilton. I make no money off this.

AN/: This will take a bit longer. Explanations first: Amuse's favorite character is Cordy. I've never written her before so I thought, what do you want her to do. And I decided, I want the way she died to be fixed because it wasn't good. So I did. But I also wanted to try my hand at dialogue only. And I wanted Buffy and Cordy to finally get along. And... other things. So basically, this is an experiment that I had much fun writing but am really not sure anyone else will like.

Still, Amuse, this is for you. I did my best, put in lots of snarking and hope you have a wonderful day. Merry Christmas.


Ugly Shirt


“I’m coming, I’m coming. Geez, you can take your finger off the bell now. I said I’m coming! What the hell…Cordelia?!”

“Oh my god, are you challenged? That is has to be the ugliest shirt I’ve ever seen.”

“Which is why I wear it only to bed. You know, where it’s dark?”

“That’s no excuse. It’s still ugly if you can’t see it. And It’s almost sunset so why the frilly heck are you sleeping? You haven’t changed much since High School, have you?”

“I can wear whatever the hell I please to bed and…Cordelia?!”

“Oh for….Of course it’s me. Who did you expect, Santa Clause?”

“I didn’t expect you, that much is sure.”


“Well, for one because you are dead?”

“Says she who is technically a corpse -”

“So you’re what, Cordy 2.0?”

“ – that wears ugly shirts. No, I’m not Cordy 2.0. I’m me. Can I come in?”

“That depends on if you’re really Cordy or some freak demon shape shifter thing that needs killing.”

“I’m me.”

“Prove it.”

“Hi, I’m Cordy!”


“Can I come in now?”


“Come on, Buffy. I came all the way from LA, which by the way is a mess. I had to go by bus! And I broke a nail. And then I had to pay the taxi driver an unbelievable forty bucks for a fifteen minute drive out here. What the hell made you move to the outskirts of town anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be a city girl? I certainly got used to the big city in LA. And…. Can you please let me in, Buffy?”


“Huh, suddenly you decide to let me in?”

“Only the Cordelia Chase I know can ramble like that. Well, you and Willow. But you’re not Willow because Willow would have just come here as Willow. She’s just not the type to ring me out of bed dressed up as a dead person. Not her style. And she kinda doesn’t come here. At all. So, how come you’re gracing planet earth with your presence again?”

“Karma? Who did you pay to decorate the house? It actually looks decent.”

“No-one, thanks a lot. You don’t know?”

“Well, there was this guy in the ugly hat – “


“Yeah. I think. I was kinda distracted by the purple suit. He walked up to me, told me good luck and second chances and all that thingamajingy and wham, I’m sitting on top of my grave wearing some butt ugly black dress. Ankle length really isn’t my style.”

“Tell me about it. They buried me in killer heels.”

“I know. I think Anya picked them.”

“You were there?”

“We all were.”

“You know, I never actually asked about the whole funeral thing. Kinda…freaky.”

“Yeah. Definitely.”



“I did meet him, you know?”

“Meet who?”

“Santa Clause.”

“How’d that happen? Let me guess, he thought you were one of his elves because you’re so short.”

“Ha ha, Cordy, ha ha. Nope. He’s actually a minor demon. Sucks the happiness out of children or something like that. The whole Christmas gig is cover.”

“Like a dementor? And please don’t tell me you killed Santa Clause.”

“He escaped. On his sleigh. What’s a demotor?”

“Dementor. Do you ever pick up a book?”

“I read Vogue and Cosmopolitan. And you know, lots of heavy old books that make you sneeze.”

“Doesn’t seem to help much. That shirt is ugly.”

“Haven’t we covered that?”

“You’re still wearing it.”


“Alright, I get it. No dissin’ your shirt. Touchy much?”

“It belonged to Spike.”

“Oh. Sorry. That’s alright then.”

“It is? And when did you grow a tact bone?”

“Yeah. I kinda have my own Angel-shirt to cuddle….Hey, I can be very tactful when I want to be.”

“You can and you do?”

“Mine isn’t as ugly as yours, though and yes, I can.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s all? You’re not going to go all jealous bitch on my ass about having an Angel shirt to cuddle?”

“Not much use in it now. That’s…I’m, Cordy, they are…”

“Dead, I know.”

“You do? That’s good. I really didn’t want to tell you.”

“The Hyperion was the first place I checked when I woke. It was…It’s gone. Just gone.”

“I haven’t been there. Didn’t want to. Illyria drops by sometimes but beside that, I didn’t want to have anything to do with it.”


“Oh, right. You never met. She’s Fred, only blue and with a major superiority complex. And there’s something wrong with her sexual orientation, I think. She keeps calling herself god king. She’s the only one who…got out.”


“So…What brings you to St. Louis?”

“The bus?”


“Alright. Geez, chill. I googled a bit and found out where the whole gang is these days. You were closest.”

“Cleveland isn’t that much farther and both Willow and Xander are there.”



“Maybe I wanted to see you?”

“Just maybe, I’m hurt.”

“With the whole resurrection thing, I thought...”

“You thought you’d come here because I know and the others don’t. Because no-one who hasn’t done it can really understand what it’s like to be at peace and then suddenly you’re not. Getting to look at your own tombstone is just the cherry on top, isn’t it? And everything after that just gets worse.”

“Maybe you have changed since High School.”

“No. I’ve changed since I crawled out of my grave. And… you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. I…I would have liked to have someone to talk to about it and…I can listen. Cherry says when I put my mind to it, I can be a world class listener.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. So, what brings you to St. Louis?”


“No, the guy behind you….Holy shit, there’s a scary looking guy behind you!”

“Tall, dark, handsome, wearing a cape?”


“That’s just Requiem.”


“Morning, Requiem.”

“Good evening, fair lady. Who might your beautiful guest be?”

“That’s Cordy. You know, the one who’s dead. I told you about her. Only she’s not now and she’ll stay here with us for a while until she’s used to the not-being-dead-anymore.”

“Hey! You’re a vampire.”

“Indeed. It is a pleasure to meet you, milady. Slayer, do you know where…”

“Uh, yeah right. Takeaway should be on its way, technically. And I’ve been a real sucky host. Do you want something to drink, Cordy?”

“Diet coke? And don’t smack your forehead like that. It’ll kill what’s left of your brain.”

“One diet coke coming right up. Tactful my ass...”


“Crap, can you get the door, Cordy? It’s kinda too light still for Requiem.”

“I’m on it and…. Why is the pizza delivery guy looking at me funny? Oh my god, please tell me that you’re not going to pull a Sunnydale on him and eat him instead of the pizza?”

“Well, technically…”

“Stop messing with your sexy guest and introduce us, Buff.”

“Formerly-dead-Cordy, this is Annoying-as-hell-Zane. Annoying-as-hell-Zane, meet Formerly-dead-Cordy. Zane sort of lives here sometimes and Cordy is moving in for a while so play nice. Cor, here’s your coke. Zane, pizza in the microwave, neck between Requiem’s teeth before he starts gnawing on the furniture.”

“Sure thing boss. Cordy, pleasure to meet you, if you catch my drift.”

“Eugh. Buffy, you’re friends are still disgusting and horny.”

“You wound me. And you haven’t even met Jason yet.”

“Who’s Jason?”

“Not teeeeellin’.”

“Requiem, who’s Jason?”

“I do not believe you wan to know. I will help Zane in the kitchen.”

“Is he always this fluffy and funny?”

“He beats Angel’s brooding fits single-handedly. His has been going on for several centuries.”


“Tell me about it. But he’s getting better. Not much choice with me and Zane around. Besides, he’s cool and scary smart, like Giles smart. And pretty to look at.”

He can also hear you, slayer.”

“Love you, too!”



“By the freaking Powers, what happened to you?”


“Buffy, sit down, for goodness sake. ZANE, get the first aid kit and get your ass down here!”

“Could you not yell so loudly? Please. And: Ouch.”

“Can you take your shirt off or do I cut it off of you?”

“Don’t you dare cut my three hundred dollar shirt to scraps!”

“Believe me, it wasn’t worth the money. Zane, we need something to clean up Miss Messy.”

“I’ll be fine, Cordy. Seriously.”

“Yeah. You always are. And then you die. Need help with the shirt? And should the vampire be hovering with all that blood?”

“Requiem is tougher than that. Zane, honey could you..:”

“Strip you? Sure thing! What happened?”

“What do you think?... Ouch! A bit less brutal, Cordy?...Anita. Zombie raising. Metaphysical mess up. Insane zombie. Scared lawyers. Have you ever tried stopping a zombie without a master to control it?”

“Zombies suck. Remember that party we had after you had your meltdown and ran away? Those things are so….blech!”

“How’s Anita?”

“She didn’t take too kindly to me killing her zombie but Micah came and took her home so things should be alright. Car keys are by the door, if you want to get over there.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Go on, Zane.”

“Thanks, good night people.”

“I will go as well, slayer, to inform the Master of the City what has happened. He will want to know. I do not think I’ll be back before sunrise.”

“Tell Big Fangy I said hi, will you?”

“Very well. Good night.”

“Well, that’s one way to clear out the house.”

“You thought the hellmouth was bad? Here, we just stumble from one catastrophe into the next. This is normal business.”

“Then why do you stay here? Can you lift up your arm a bit? I want to take a look at your ribs.”

“The ribs are okay. Just patch up my shoulder?”


“Why do I stay here? Good question.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. I tried being normal after Sunnydale. I went to Rome, hooked up with a random mob boss, partied all night. The whole nine yards. And you know what?”

“It didn’t work, did it?”

“How’d you guess?”

“The summer after high school, trying to become famous in LA? It was all so nice and normal and calm and it felt wrong. To stay inside and be safe while people died. And I’m not the slayer.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. These days, pretty much everyone seems to have been slayerized.”

“I was dead, dying, when you went global so I don’t think I got a slice.”

“Mhm. Stop poking me and just put the bandage on.”

“So you came here?”

“I spent some time doing the travelling stranger thing before landing here. Anita, necromancer and human’s servant of the Master of the City, had a bit of trouble on her ass and I helped out. Ended up with some metaphysical thingamagingy that tied Requiem to me. Hence, the vampire in the basement. The Master of the City, who’s a hottie by the way, invited me to stay and help put a sock in the power struggles going on in his territory. He’s an okay guy for a vampire and I figured as long as I save innocents, it matches the job description. I stayed. End of story.”

“Sounds like you built a whole new life here.”

“I did. Can I put my shirt back on now?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I just came barging in.”

“You didn’t, really.”

“I’ve been here for almost a week already.”

“And I invited you to stay as long as you want and need to.”

“But you don’t need me to mess up everything for you here. You don’t even like me, remember?”

“We’re not sixteen anymore, Cordelia. And yes, I remember. I remember the girl who beat down a whole lot of monsters with me and missed a whole lot of manicures because of it. I remember the girl who dated my dorky best friend. I remember the woman who looked after Angel when I couldn’t and who loved him when I wasn’t allowed to anymore. I remember that you died too young and I also remember that everyone deserves a second chance.”


“No, you listen. Have you looked around the house? Have you found any trace of the Scoobies? At all?”

“No but the sink hole…”

“I outgrew them. Or they outgrew me, whatever. The thing is, I like having you around. I changed, you changed, and I had fun those last few days. Zane likes you. Requiem does, too. What I’m trying to say is that we both lost a lot of things but if you want to, I’d like you to stay here with me and build a life with me as my friend. The Power’s don’t send people back just for kicks, you know? You might need someone around when the shit hits the fan.”

“You want to keep me?”

“Sure? Why not? And maybe one day, we’ll reach the point where we can burn our snugly dead-vampire-shirts and find some hunky new guys to gossip over.”

“I’m really not sure what to say, Buffy.”

“You could say, Buffy, pass me the Kleenex please. Or you could say yes, you’ll stay.”

“Of course I will. I have no clue how you survived without me after high school. And someone really needs to supervise your shopping.”

“You’re welcome. And now stop poking that goddamned cut already!”

“Whoa, bitchy. See if I patch you up next time a raging zombie takes a bite out of you.”

“I might just send the next one your way if you don’t watch it.”

“Oh please, as if I couldn’t handle one zombie…”

“I distinctly remember there to be a lot of screeching at my welcome back party.”

“That was Oz.”



The End

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