The Law of Possession
By Melissa Flores <mistyjox@hotmail.com>
Summary : Cordelia contemplates on the epiphany in her own life. Cordelia/Angel
Spoilers: The first half of Belonging
Rating : PG-13 for mild use of language
~*~
When I was fifteen years old, my mother told me something that
I will never ever forget. I had sauntered into the room, my short gray
pleated skirt hanging just so and my cardigan sufficiently tight to fodder
the imagination of all the rich boys at Sunnydale High but still loose
enough to be considered classy, and found my mother seated at the kitchen
table, a bottle of scotch in her hand.
This wasn't exactly new. My mother always had some crisis or another,
and for a long time I passed it off as her just wanting to get our attention,
give us guilt trips for not being the model family that she so desperately
wanted to pass off to the rest of Sunnydale. Scotch on the kitchen table
with my mother drowning in it wasn't exactly a passing fad, it was something
I had lived with since I was five.
What freaked me out was that my mother looked an absolute mess,
and for once in her life, she didn't care. Mom always said that it didn't
matter what a Chase went through, it was no excuse to stop looking good.
But my mother, sprawled out on the counter, hands dug into the disheveled
hair on her forehead, mascara streaked and dried trailing down her face,
no lipstick or even one spot of blemish cream, just did not look good.
I remember thanking God I hadn't brought Harmony home. God.
How self-centered was I to have that be the first thought that entered
my stupid young head?
I remember putting my books down, hands on the counter, suddenly
surprising myself because I was trembling, and there was this catch in
my voice as I leaned forward and asked my mother what was wrong.
She sniffled, gave me this blank dark look, and said the one thing
that still haunts me.
"Own the man, Cordelia. Never let the man own you. You'll lose
everything if you do."
She had caught my dad having sex with the maid in her bedroom
that day. I know because I caught him two days after in the parlor. He
had stopped hiding it, because he had stopped caring. And my mother had
officially lose control.
She was diagnosed with Epstein Barr the next year, and Dad stopped
his affairs, for a while anyway, and I remember rolling my eyes and telling
myself Harmony was never coming over again.
I'm probably my mother's biggest disappointment.
For the Chase family, life has always been about possession, especially
for the women in the family. In the Chase world, the men hold the real
power : the cars, the jobs. All a woman can really do is look good, and
hold onto the man for as long as she can before the beauty starts to fade
and she ends up sprawled out on the counter drinking scotch, not caring
when her fifteen year old daughter comes in and doesn't give a shit about
her mother, thinking only of herself.
It sounds stupid, I know, and mean, and... shitty. But I wasn't
all bad, and neither was my mother. Or her mother. It's just how Chase
women think, and if I hadn't found Kevin dead on the floor on the rec room
with Willow the day before Homecoming, that's probably exactly how I would
have ended up.
Even as I got sucked into saving the world, even as I got sucked
into Xander, my life was still about wanting : about possession. I wanted
a man to be completely mine, because that was my safety net, that was all
I had.
I was Cordelia Chase : Boy Slayer, and all I had against the Buffy's
and the Willow's in this world was my bitchiness and my body.
It sounds so stupid now, but to this day I think I've always believed
my mother was right, because I've never given myself to a man and not come
out burned.
Take the Xanders and the rebars through the abs. Take the Wilsons
and the demon babies. Take the Angel's and their betrayals.
"Cordy?" My eyes lifted from the text of Anotar to meet the man
shifting uncomfortably in front of me, hands coming down to rest on the
edge of the desk, dark eyes just boring into me.
Angel's always had beautiful eyes. They're dark and deep and in
them you can see the years that he's lived through, the centuries of living
and they seem to take you into them, seeping a warmth that makes you want
to smile and cry at the same time because no one in the world could possibly
stand as much pain as he's put himself through.
Except maybe me, who's experienced the pain of the entire world
all at once. Sometimes I still wake up in a cold sweat, panicked and the
dull throb that never really went away, just kinda pushed itself back into
the corner of my mind resurfaces and I bite my bottom lip to keep from
screaming, from running out into the street and doing my damnedest to just
make it all stop.
Once you've experienced that, you can stand to look into Angel's
eyes.
And so I did, looking into the eyes of the man who has quite possibly
hurt me more than I ever thought humanly possible as he stared down at
me with something in his eyes that I'd been seeing more and more or lately.
"What?" I asked in a voice that's almost a snap, fingers sliding
through my short bangs.
"I... uh..." He stammered for a second and then said nothing,
looking away for what seemed the umpteemth time.
He's seemed so unsure lately. The way he seems almost scared of
me. Scared of saying or doing the wrong thing, or triggering something
in me that he's not quite prepared to face. He knows what he did. He knows
how much he hurt me.
I never knew how much I could hurt him until now.
"Angel," I whispered, my voice betraying the warning that I was
rapidly losing patience. "Spit it out."
"I just... you said you don't want people asking if you're okay
and you're not looking okay and I just wanted to see if you were okay but
I didn't want to ask..."
Something about the way he stammered out the words brought a smile
onto my face. A small one, sure enough, but it was there, and he saw it,
because he stopped, a bit of one on his own face that just looks so beautiful
when he does it.
"I'm fine," I finally answered, shrugging slightly. "I was just...
headache. Vision leftovers."
The smile that had drifted on his face immediately slid off again
and he came around the desk, a cool hand suddenly on my forehead, his face
inches from mine.
I fought the urge to push him away, the irritation at the big
brother act that he and Wes and Gunn pulled on me time and time again dissipating
when I saw the pure concern in his face.
"Stay here tonight, okay?" he said quickly, looking into my eyes
for one full second before pulling back. "Just ... I'd feel better ...
if you did."
"Angel."
"Cordelia."
Woah. He used my full name. He almost never does that anymore.
His stance was rigid, arms crossed as he looked at me with that "And that's
final" look of his.
"You promise if I do my clothes is going to stay?" I muttered
finally. The joke was a bad one, granted, but the jolt of pleasure I used
to get from reminding him of just how much he betrayed me was oddly gone
as a wince of pain slipped through his face.
Damnit, Angel. I hate that you can do this to me. You're the only
one that can do this to me. Make me feel one inch tall.
"I'll stay, okay?"
He smiled, that surprised smile that he gets like I just rewarded
him, like if he was a little puppy dog who had just received a pat from
it's owner for doing something silly like rolling over.
God help me, I couldn't help but smile back.
"You really should do that more often," I said, the dull ache
in my head fading away slightly as he blushed, cocking his head as Wesley
walked into the office.
The moment was lost as Wesley started asking me about the case,
but I didn't miss the way his hand stayed on my shoulder a half second
more than it should have, the way he grabbed my coat and gave it to me,
the way he always had his eyes on me.
When I first started working for Angel, I was an annoyance. He
had no idea what to do with me, and honestly I don't think I ever really
knew what to do with myself. Doyle gave me a purpose, with the visions
that are so excruciatingly painful that I feel like my head is cracked
up each one.
I don't think even Doyle knew that when he gave me the visions,
he also gave me to Angel.
My purpose isn't the damn visions. It's Angel.
But up until now I don't think even Angel realized what's happened.
It's not just that I'm his, because that's old news, and was totally case
in point when he discarded me like an old shoe to go after a blonde psycho
bitch who was only after the demon in his body anyway and a care of shitty
lawyers.
I don't think I even noticed it myself until the day Angel showed
up at my commercial shoot and threatened to tear off my director's head.
I was too annoyed with him, too angry at him for butting into my last ditch
effort at a normal life that he couldn't even let me have a piece of to
realize exactly what had dropped in my lap.
I wasn't just his, like I always was and always had been, much
to my mother's horror.
He was mine.
And I have no idea what scared me more.
All the little gestures, the time he brought me five different
kind of sandwiches because he had forgotten what I had liked, the way he
tried to stand up for me when Harmony came into town, the way he lets me
cut through him and lets himself get so completely hurt when I snap at
him in a way that had never phased him before, he's trying to tell me more
than he's sorry.
He's trying to tell me he's mine.
I've done it. I didn't even know that I had wanted it until now,
but I've done it. The vampire with the soul is trying his damnedest to
keep himself in my good graces because he's mine. He's mine.
Possession, the position of power that every Chase women wants,
the one thing I have never had from any man, has been given to me by the
man who I had given myself to long ago, the day I made the pledge to be
by his side no matter how long it took for him to achieve redemption.
Funny how redemption doesn't even seem to matter anymore. It's
like he's thrown it off, and all he cares about now is us, the present,
the future... with me.
*Own the man, Cordelia. They own you and you lose everything.*
I hadn't exactly shared my newfound revelation with Gunn and Wes.
They're not exactly inclined to really get it, because I think really,
only I really know what's going on, and the visions leave their ache at
certain points and I can't really think at all sometimes because I'm never
sure if I'm living in the world of pain that I had just experienced or
if I'm fighting to get out of it.
I don't think even Angel knows it.
But I'm not sure if I want that power, if I want to own Angel,
anymore than I'm sure he wants to belong to me, because let's face it,
there are a lot better chicks to belong to other than a half-baked seer
who has dark circles under her eyes and has absolutely no friends.
Not that he really seems to mind, any more than I minded giving
myself to him.
Until he hurt me. And now I know. I have that power. I can do
to him what he did to me.
That night I took a shower and crawled up in my favorite chair,
and watched as Angel descended the stair case, in his hands a small little
plastic menu that he had waited to pull out after Gunn and Wesley had both
gone.
"Chinese or Pasta?" he began. "We can do both. We can-"
"Angel."
He paused, looking up uncertainly, afraid he had messed up, afraid
he had crossed that line with me. "Yeah?"
"Just stop, okay? Stop trying so hard." The throbbing slid into
my head and I bit my lip, fighting hard not to whimper against the onslaught,
praying feverishly that we would solve this soon. GOD. SOON.
"Cordy."
"Just... come here," I whispered, and he came, slid his arms around
me and I burrowed into his chest and he just held me.
I know vampires aren't supposed to be warm but in Angel's cold
touch there's a warmth I've never felt before. I've only recently held
him, only recently has he ever wanted to hold me, but now that I'm in his
arms I wonder why on earth I've waited so long to burrow in his dark clothes
and just inhale his masculine scent.
It wasn't until the pain eased away that I was able to feel, really
feel what was coming from Angel's body.
He was trembling.
My heart began to pound, and I blinked the tears away, my voice
muffled in the fabric of his shirt as I whispered, "Angel."
"Yeah," came the husky whisper, the vibration of his voice sliding
through my scalp from where his chin rested on the top of my head.
"Why are you trying so hard?"
There it was, the point blank question that neither of us had
spoken up, neither of us had voiced because neither of us wanted to know
the real answer.
Possession is such a scary thing.
"I... I guess I'm trying to show you, Cordy."
"Show me what?" I asked, my eyes cast downward, on his hand, his
fingers that were tracing gentle circles on my thighs.
"I... I don't know."
But he did, and so did I.
*Own the man, Cordelia. Never let the man own you. You'll lose
everything if you do.*
So I pulled back, just enough to look into those dark eyes of
his and I raised my eyebrow and I gazed at him, just looked at him.
"Angel."
And his hand came up, cupping my face gently, his eyes suddenly
riveted on my lips, his thumb lining them gently, his whole being suddenly
utterly enchanted with my lips.
Can I just say how hard it is to concentrate when you become utterly
aware that Angel, YOUR Angel wants to kiss you?
"I lost my way, Cordy," he said thickly, his voice just a whisper,
but I still heard it. "But I found it."
"You sure took the long way of doing it, dorkhead," I couldn't
help but add.
"I had an-"
"Epiphany. Yeah I got it." I shook my head slightly, hands reaching
up to delicately take his fingers from my lips.
Guys are complete idiots. It had taken breaking my heart and stomping
on it for him to realize that I had been there all this time.
Men suck.
*Own the man, Cordelia. Never let the man own you. You'll lose
everything if you do.*
"I don't want to get hurt again, Angel," I found myself whispering,
eyes suddenly tearing as I saw the beautiful emotion in his face that was
directed at me, completely at me.
"You won't."
"You hurt me."
"I know. I'm sorr-"
"Don't," I answered heatedly, my eyes flashing slightly. "Don't
say you're sorry. That isn't good enough. You have to give me more than
that."
"What do you want, Cordy?" He would have given me anything right
then, the damned vampire who had once would have given his right arm to
kick me out of his apartment.
A Chase never gives herself completely to a man. She loses all
power. She put herself in his power, loses herself.
Funny. I don't feel very lost right now.
"I want the truth."
His hands slid around my waist, drawing me closer, and his forehead
rested against mine as he let out one long breath, one that I knew for
a fact he didn't need. His eyes were closed as he began to speak, his voice
soft, deliberate.
"I'm never leaving you again, Cordy. Because I can't, okay? I
can't look into your eyes and walk away. Not now. Not ever. I don't have
that option anymore. "
Because he belonged to me. He was mine.
He wasn't ready to say it. I wasn't ready to hear it. I don't
think I would have known what to do if he HAD said it. Cause we were SO
not ready.
Buried trauma issues much?
But I still smiled, I still felt my heart skip a double beat and
I still did what I never could have before.
I still leaned forward and gently pressed my lips against his,
lingering there for one long second, pulling away only to have him desperately
cling to me, lips finding mine again, moving so desperately against my
own that I lost all conscious thought of anything but Angel.
Because I was his.
I knew that. He knew that.
But we weren't going to say that just yet.
He let me breathe, and I buried my face in his shoulder and just
inhaled his scent, never realizing I was completely in his lap until I
felt him shudder under me, but hold me tight, always holding me so tightly.
I had lost. I gave myself completely to the one man who had hurt
me the most, to the one man who harbored a demon who would kill me, torture
me if he ever got out.
But it didn't matter, because now I knew, I knew and even though
it scared me half to death, it still made things just a little okay, made
the future a little bit easier to face.
He belonged to me. And I belonged to him.
*Own the man, Cordelia. Never let the man own you. You'll lose
everything if you do.*
I gave a sad smile and said a prayer for my mother, for the long
line of Chases who had been so afraid to give themselves heart and soul
and so had never given anything but a facade that had faded as quickly
as it had burned.
Cordelia Chase makes her own laws. She lives in a world that's
a living hell, but it's okay, because it's moments like this that makes
it worth it. When people who can hurt each other so much end up in each
other's arms, taking the strength from the either in a brief moment of
solitude that had taken years to come together, and would take years to
consummate...
That was the law of possession.
And Chase laws be damned, I was going to give myself wholeheartedly
to it.
In this crazy world, what else do we have?
