Chapter Text
Sixteen-year-old Buffy Summers stood just inside the doors of Sunnydale High’s library on the night of the Spring Fling. Her hair was a wet disaster, not to mention the expensive, silk-white dress her mother had surprised her with for the dance. She'd have a hard time explaining when she got there—no rain.
To make things worse, she looked like she'd just escaped (this was the slightly implausible story she was going with) the clutches of a rabid dog. Hey, she was bitten.
The lies of the Slayer/Chosen One had a kernel of truth.
Her friends, who’d already gone ahead, knew the whole. Xander, despite his jokey demeanor, saved her life from that...rabid dog. And Willow, Giles, Miss Calendar, Angel (whom she was maybe infatuated with)...hell, even Cordelia, had been there in the fight.
She and that unlikely group of people had just stopped a 600-year-old master vampire from opening the Mouth of Hell underneath her feet. Where was her bonus? Right, she didn't get one. A heavy-on-the-responsibility job for a teenager that didn't pay?
This was her insane destiny, which she always gave in to, however grudgingly. Even to the point of (brief) death.
Despite all this, she smirked. The de-fleshed skeleton of the Master lay where the library’s table half-was and half-wasn't, sharpened wood piercing where his heart had been. When you crashed through skylights, you met certain consequences.
But now, time to party—the PTSD could kick in later. She turned to leave as Cordelia pushed through the doors from the opposite side. They sort of bumped into each other.
Cordelia, whose life revolved mostly around cheerleading stress, had just suffered through the most horrific ordeal ever. She’d spent her night with total freaks (not the demons). And yet she was in an almost pleasant mood. It was bizarre and unsettling...she wanted to be pissed.
If that wasn't shocking enough, she couldn't believe what she was about to do.
"You lose something?" Buffy asked, also understandably stumped as to why Cordelia would set foot in here again. "Because if you did, it probably got sucked into Hell...and why’s your car in the hallway?"
"Um, apparently, there were vampires in the parking lot," Cordelia told her, voice somehow still incredulous while laced with sarcasm. "What was I supposed to do? Go all 'Horror Movie' and run around like I have no brain?"
That practically begged for a comeback, she realized quickly. "Don't even—"
"What? You're right—it was a dumb question," conceded Buffy.
"Good," Cordelia sighed. "Look, I didn't want anyone else to see, because I have a reputation to think about, but I just...wanna say thank you. For what you did."
She had an expression near to admiration on her face. "I mean, dying so I could live to get a new car—’cause my insurance doesn't cover 'Acts of Satan'—that's like, really selfless."
"The world kinda needed saving too," smirked Buffy. "Besides, it's, what I do. Unfortunately."
Cordelia abruptly switched to annoyance. "I'm showing you gratitude. Show some back and accept it."
They both stood there not knowing what to say, Cordelia sort of fidgeting, arguing with herself until her “inner-bitch” surrendered, and she hugged Buffy.
"If anybody finds out this happened—"
"You'll tell the whole school I did Mr. Vermir in the passenger seat of a Beetle just to pass Geometry,” Buffy deduced. “And ‘cause I have absolutely no self-respect, it was in his driveway with the door open...when his wife was home. Close?"
Cordelia released her, pulling back, clearly blown away. "Maybe you actually were popular in some alternate universe."
It was hard to believe Buffy had been in that universe only six months ago. Things seemed simpler there, but other than all the evil that flocked to this misleading town, it wasn't so bad.
Buffy had good, quirky friends, not just followers. She couldn't be that other person anymore, even if she wanted to. Cordelia was welcome to that life.
"Can use it if you want...as long as my name, Xander's name, and Willow's, isn't anywhere near," she detailed.
They exited the library together, and started down the hall.
"I'm sorry about Kevin," Buffy apologized gently.
"How did you...?"
Kevin was a guy Cordelia had been seriously dating. Only—as she and Willow discovered—he’d been slaughtered on school grounds by vampires.
"I notice stuff. You guys were really cute together."
"Well...thanks." Cordelia obviously wasn’t used to someone taking an interest in her life unless she ordered them to. "And we were, weren't we?"
The girls smiled somewhat sadly at one another, walking out the exit doors at the end of the hall.
"So what're you doing this summer?" Buffy asked.
"My parents promised we're going to St. Croix...I need to get the hell out of here," exhaled Cordelia. “And onto real beaches.”
"Me too—s'why I'm going to L.A. for some quality 'Father-Daughter' time." Buffy looked forward to dodging horror for a little while.
"While you're there," Cordelia suggested, eyeing the mess that was Buffy’s hair, "you should go to a stylist. Do something different. Like dye it."
"You think?" Buffy questioned, touching her hair and giving it thought. Her next question just seemed to slip out. "Do you like it? Being popular?"
Mask dropping again just a moment, Cordelia answered, "Sometimes. Do you like being a superhuman freak?"
"Sometimes."
And sometimes, both had their downsides. Buffy’s first night in Los Angeles would be when the nightmares started, scarring a little piece of her forever. Then after taking Cordelia’s advice, she’d return for the new school year, a blonde.
Cordelia would spend the summer bored to tears in Tuscany, not St. Croix. But the boredom wouldn’t just be because her parents forced art and architecture on her. There’d be a far less shallow reason for once.