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A Day In The Life

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Summary: Cordelia has a bad day. A very bad day. Response to a challenge.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > GeneralrestiveFR1348,669011,28531 Dec 0331 Dec 03Yes

A Day In The Life

A Day In The Life

Part 1/4

Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rated- 13 for mild language.

Spoilers- Buffy Season 3 up to "Enemies".

Disclaimer- I own none of the recognizable characters. They belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Summary- Cordelia has a bad day.

A/N-This is a response to a challenge. I have never written Cordy like this and it is my first attempt ever at a response. So please excuse all the little mistakes. Also, humor is not my finest point, but I hope you enjoy. Challenge will be posted at the end of the work.

Ugh! Waking up first thing in the morning is not my favorite thing to do. I mean, first of all, my room’s on the exposed side of the house so sunlight everywhere from six a.m. on. And the noise in this neighborhood is astounding in its constancy. Kids crying, parents yelling, people gunning their motors on their way to whatever crappy little jobs define their crappy existence. I so do not need this.

I’ve become quite the expert at getting up now before Mother’s voice can yell for me. Does she not realize that constantly screeching like that may very well cause me to go deaf? And it’s not like our little duplex is all that big. I can hear her if she speaks normally. Maybe it’s one of the effects of having Daddy lose everything to the stupid IRS. She’s still acting like we have the big house, fancy cars and servants that clean up every mess. I know I’ve been maintaining my façade to the public world, but I certainly have enough of a grip on reality to let it go at home.

Yep, when the chips were down, Cordelia Chase stepped up. I was devastated when my credit cards were refused and snipped to bits while on a mega shopping spree. Thank God no one was around to see it but the pimply faced cashier who so needed one of my patented makeovers. But did I give in to the tantrum I wanted to throw? No… well only once, but people expect it of me. I am Queen C after all. But I thought about what I wanted from my life, what I deserved and what I was going to have, come hell or high water. And I went out to accomplish it.

That’s why today is so important. I know last year I swore off college men, but I have my future to think of now. I mean, I am not going to stay in Sunnyhell forever, working a part-time job in the only acceptable dress shop in town. So I needed to find a solution and it was obvious. Ever since Angel and Buffy destroyed that little fraternity ring, things have settled down over at the college. And the dating scene has heated up again. And I happen to have a date with the most eligible college man there. Gregory Wells-Thornton. I sigh a little as I look over my now meager wardrobe. He reminds me a little of Wesley. What with the two last names, which are so classy, but also, he has a little bit of an accent. Definitely not a California native. I can’t remember what Gregory’s father does, but it’s not important. Gregory is going to take over when he graduates next year. And I’m going to be there right beside him.

I finally pull out an outfit I’ve only worn twice. Hopefully no one will remember that. Add a few accessories and it will be like new. If there’s one thing I can count on, it’s that Harmony’s, er, I mean my friends have memories like elephants. They never forget clothes that anyone has worn. But, ripping the tag out, maybe I can fake my way into making them believe it’s a DKNY original. That seems the best plan. I mean, quality clothes are meant to be worn more than once. I certainly can’t run off and buy whatever I want now.

I head off to school, God can’t wait until it’s done, with tonight’s date on my mind. Planning what few hints I’m going to drop in Harmony’s way. She’ll be so jealous when she hears my date’s name. And maybe if she’s nice, begs and pleads a little, I’ll share the details tomorrow. But first stop, the library! Even if nothing could ever happen between us, I need to keep up the flirting with Wesley. For one, he’s so cute when he’s flustered. Two, it drives Xander nuts, not that he’s not nuts already. I mean honestly, sucking face with Willow when he had me? I mean he obviously had to be out of his mind.

But when I get to the library, it’s strangely quiet. Which can mean one of two things. Last night was an apocalypse and Buffy’s little gang is dead. Which I actually would be disappointed about. I mean, she has on occasion, saved me, and the world I guess. Or, they’ve already had their meeting and I’m running a little late. Probably the latter. I hear a noise and turn. Giles is coming out of his office, alone, his nose predictably stuck in a book. And oh my God! What is on his face?

"Giles!" I catch his attention, smiling a little as he jumps and fumbles his book, catching it just before it topples from his hands. "What on earth are those?" I point at his eyes. He’s so often in his own little world that a snake could bite him and he wouldn’t notice. I would, and have in fact. He stares at me, uncomprehendingly, which is a look I see on his face pretty often. "The glasses, Giles," I clarify with a little sigh.

"O-oh, yes," he finally manages to stammer. "Do you like them?" Now it’s my turn with the uncomprehending. Granny glasses? How passe. So sixties, which makes sense, cause Giles is like, old. "I thought a, a little change in appearance was long overdue." I can’t help but roll my eyes.

"Try contacts," I suggest, knowing he’ll never take my advice. You just can’t teach an old dog new tricks. "And speaking of appearance," I eye him critically," lose the tweed. I mean hello, not in England any more. Try jeans once in a while Giles. They are pretty comfortable. And you know, a few silk shirts wouldn’t go amiss." But I have to reconsider. Daddy losing everything has made me a little more sympathetic to the lower classes. "Or denim. I’m sure denim is well within your budget."

"Er, yes Cordelia, thank you," Giles got out in a rush. I knew it, never take Cordy’s advice. "Did you perhaps need something?" he asked, obviously desperate to change the subject. Not that I do. I never mind talking about fashion. And it’s obvious that Giles needs my help. But before I can answer, He walks in.

"Wesley, hi!" I greet him with my most charming smile. Not that I needed to. His eyes seem to glaze over just a bit every time he looks my way. It’s always a thrill when I see that. Haven’t lost my touch at all.

"Ah, Miss Chase," he doesn’t quite stammer. But that’s okay, I know a little eyelash fluttering will have him there in seconds. But of course before we get that far, the warning bell rings. Regrettably, I have to go. But maybe it’s better this way. Always leave them hanging. I smile ruefully as I glance up at the unseen noisemaker. Wesley tilts his head, understanding. No more words pass between us and I head to my first class.

School was a bust. Harmony was nowhere to be found. A sick day, ostensibly. And yes, I do know some big words. But from the rumors going around, her date was a no-show this weekend. She was here yesterday, but needed to recover today when the grapevine caught up during the day. That will make tomorrow that much sweeter, when my date naturally goes off without a hitch. But school. My horrid and woefully undereducated history teacher sprang a pop quiz on us. I wonder how he manages to remain employed. All he ever does is read aloud from textbooks that are thirty years out of date. And pop quizzes are not how I like my surprises. I prefer them to sparkle and cost a nice chunk of dough.

Xander was nowhere to be found, so I couldn’t even take my ire out on him. Willow was there, but she’s not as much fun to guilt trip. She’s already riding the express with a season ticket. And her faithful little lapdog Buffy won’t let me get too close. Granted, she thought my feelings were justified in regards to the wonderless duo, but it smacks too much of pity for my liking. No matter. I certainly don’t need them like they needed me. I only hang around, well for many complicated reasons. And to top off my day, some jock jerk who refuses to do his scholastic duty and join a sports team knocked my bag off my desk and wrecked my compact. So it looks like a quick trip to the mall is needed. After all, I can’t contemplate a date without proper foundation.

I hurried to the mall, hoping for once to be in and out in under half an hour Normally I’d take my time, but I had much more important things to do. But the fates were against me. The very first person I run into happened to be… Giles! I had no idea that he even knew there was a mall in Sunnydale, much less where it was. And even more to my surprise, he’d been shopping for a little while, if the number of bags were any indication. I filed that away in my head. Mr. Dedication must have snuck off of work early to come here. He probably even wanted to be out of here before he ran into someone he knew. Well, hello! Busted.

"Hey Giles!" I was only being friendly because my fingers were itching to see if he’d taken my suggestion.

"C-Cordelia!" he was definitely taken aback to see me. He tried to hide the bags behind him, but I had already seen them. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Shopping," I replied with an eye roll. "What else is there to do at a shopping mall?"

"W-well," he looked contemplative. "You could be here to have your portrait taken. Or for a free makeover. Or to apply for a job. Or even to make a wish in the fountain."

‘Damn,’ I think to myself. ‘He does have a backbone when it’s not Slayer related.’ "Gee Giles, no need to get snotty. I’m just glad to see someone taking my advice for once." And before he can respond, I snatch his bags from him. I have to make sure that he did it right. A man who thinks tweed, British or not, has some serious fashion deficiency. I was pleasantly surprised to see that he did in fact buy jeans. But the sweaters, ew! Full body shudder here. I shake my head sadly. It looks like my good deed for this month has come round again. "Come on," I sigh, tugging on his arm.

"W-what are we d-doing?" he stammers as I drag him to a trendier men’s shop.

"We’re bringing you into the twentieth century," I reply. I cringed though when a collection of gaudy sport’s jackets caught his eye. But he moved past them to the leather jackets. I cheered inwardly. I knew enough about men that the quickest way to turn them off of something was to wholeheartedly support it. Giles was trying it on, stroking it as if it were a security blanket. Which maybe it was, some reminder of his lost youth. But damn, he did look good. "That’s great Giles," I teased. "Now all you need is a leather dog collar, some gel to spike your hair, and I’m sure I can find you some black lipstick." The horrified look on his face went a long way to appeasing me in this self appointed task of good deeding.

"I certainly shall not spike my hair," he cried indignantly.

"I was just joking," I defended myself, holding my hands up peacefully. I studied him carefully. He looked almost like a little boy, searching for my approval. "hmm, I guess it will do." Again with the non-overly enthusiasm. With a sharp nod and a gleeful grin, he carried it to the cashier. I trailed along behind. Who knew that Giles could get a happy from leather? Maybe there was hope for him after all.

After his guarded threat to never speak of this encounter, as if I ever would, we parted ways. That image I had of Giles would stay with me a long time. I noticed of course that he hadn’t protested the dog collar and lipstick. I had the brief flickering thought of what Ripper might have been like in his glory days. But on to business. I was into the store and had bought my regular when fate stepped in again. On my way out, I found myself surrounded by a bunch of freaks. And I do mean freaks. They were all dressed up, for reasons I can’t imagine why, as candy, and they were carrying flowers. I would have pushed my way through them, but a flash of red where it didn’t belong caught my eye.
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