between friends

Rating: PG
Notes: A series of letters between Angel and Cordelia and, occasionally, Wesley. Cordelia has had to leave the US to look after her mother..

Spoilers: Almost forgot... for Australian viewers of AtS, there are some references to mid season 2.

Hiya! Can you cope with reporter guy Clark Kent a little longer? He is already sounding a *lot* more natural in his last letter! Give my best to Virginia! *Call* the girl!!!

C

Dear Angel,

Wednesday
Okay, business end first - the visions are back with a vengeance. Not long after I called you yesterday about the kid in Denny’s ... whammo! there was another. But, I hear you thinking - “she didn’t call me” and you are right, I *didn’t* call you back, ‘cause it was for me!!! Little ol’ Cordelia Chase, Champion of the Championless - or something. I had to slip out and quietly ‘borrow’ Margo’s car - I tell you - *that* was a hairy ride, this wrong side of the road stuff takes some getting used to! Fortunately it was just down the road at the Weir (the dam place - where Cam took me - but I’ll tell you about that later). This lady - Miranda - was thinking about doing the suicide leap off the side onto some nasty pointy rocks a few hundred feet below. She wasn’t ready to jump, just standing there, looking over the edge. I think I must have creeped her out when I stood next to her and told her to talk to me before she splattered the countryside with her brains! Anyway, I yammered some sense into her. She wasn’t unusual in any way - probably has one of those ‘forget-your-life-you-have-a-destiny’ things, poor girl. Tomorrow I am meeting her for lunch in the city. Follow-up consultation.

And I am telling you now - if I get any visions about 300 foot long slimy killer demons - I don’t care if they *are* in Australia - you and Wes can take care of it! No, dammit, forget that - if it is any bigger than *3* foot long - I’m calling you guys for back-up!!

Dennis broke my ‘Estee’, huh? Wow, must be intense in the bathroom. You and Dennis have *exceptional* communication skills! Kinda strange when you consider one party is grunt guy and the other is a voiceless phantom. Keep away from my ‘precious’ stuff, right? Both of you!

I’m glad you got a smile out of comparing Daddy’s fishing location to mine and Cris’! *I* didn’t! Do you know what Mom asked me today? Cordelia, honey, why didn’t you ever go to College? I really thought you wanted to make something of yourself. I am still feeling fragile. My hair is standing on end just thinking about it. As soon as I picked my chin off the floor - well, I told her. I had to remind my Mom of the little poverty kink in my life. Know what she said? I could have “worked my way through school with the earnings from my acting *career*”. Hello? Have I been talking to an empty hospital bed for the last three weeks? *Then* she said I should ask Daddy about College for next year !@#@! Why do I bother? Mom is no better with my pain than she is with her own.

Now I am getting these creepy, niggly thoughts. You know the ones that sneak up on you when you are about to fall asleep? Is she right? Could I have taken charge of my life more than I *haven't*? Did I really want to go to College? Have I been blaming Dad's love of the tax-evasive good-life for my gutter-life? Can I find someone else to blame? You, Doyle, the PTB? When it is really dark and I am *really* alone I get these scary voices telling me that it *is* only me. No-one is ever going to be responsible for me. Tune in to the rest of Cordelia's non-life-life to find out more.

Calming down now!

Cris came in to ask for help with his home-work. Math (or Maths as they say it here. Weird.) We did the old six sixes are thirty-six, six sevens are forty-two routine.

We are taking Cris to see the new Crocodile Dundee movie tomorrow afternoon. The new one, set in LA. I can feel some home-sickiness coming on. Now won’t that make me feel sooooo much better???

Margo had a Phin. Could I have doubted her carefully nurtured mother’s instinct? Phinny-Phin-Phin. Does she get pissed when I call him *that*! Baby talk undermines their ability to socially integrate or some crap. I have this new baby shoved into my arms at regular intervals, to admire, or amuse (or ignore). Babies are okay but I don’t want to *have* to admire it, you know? No, you probably don’t know. And what would happen if I had a vision while I was hanging on to Phin? What would happen to *me* if I was pregnant and still had visions - hell, how could I trust myself with my *own* baby? Good thing I’m not planning on kids right now - but, boy, I’ll have to think some more on mind-splitting-visions and Cordelia’s-future-as-a-regular-person. Looks kind of depressing.

Thursday
Should I start this letter again?? - reads very down from here. And yeah, I am one home-sick little seer.

Crocodile Dundee left me bored-now about half way through the movie and pretty much I-wanna-go-home-NOW right from the start. Rodeo Drive and Paramount Studios, Angel’s Flight, Hollywood Boulevard, Beverly Hills, Venice Beach.... look, plop, that’s a tear dropping on the page. Mom wouldn’t notice, do you think? If I snuck away? Ugh!

Change the subject. Cris giggled most of the way through the show. Cam fiddled and Issy (did I tell you we had to take Isadora *as well*?) damn well *wriggled* for an hour and a half - and wanted to go ‘wee-wee’ (huh? baby-talk?) four times!! Lovely. I thought a five year old would have better bladder control *and* better english!

Have I got enough ?!’s and *’s in this letter? Don’t want you thinking I’m being ‘lack-luster’ or anything like that. Want some numbered items? *I* want to call into Mel’s and grab a video and on the way home collect a pepperoni, mushroom and black olive deep-crust pizza from Pete’s and then I can curl up on the sofa with Dennis and we can have a pizza-pig-out. Do you want to come too? There’s plenty of room on my sofa.

What does it say about my life that my most comforting image at the moment is the companionship of the un-dead?

1. Cordelia is home-sick.
2. Cordelia wants to come home.
3. Cordelia cringes at 'Mom' thoughts.
4. Cordelia cringes at *being* a Mom thoughts.
5. Cordelia cringes at being a Mom to her *own* Mom thoughts.
6. Cordelia has a caring, thoughtful family (go with me on this).
7. Cordelia can save people - all by herself! (Yes!)
8. Cordelia wants to cry.
9. Cordelia is thinking cheery thoughts about ...(oh, God, I can’t think of any) - home!
10. Cordelia is home-sick.

It’s okay, I’ll feel better in the morning.

Hugs and kisses (you can cope with a few sympathy pecks, can’t you?)

Me ( I feel more like a small ‘m’ me right now, but I am being optimistic.)

P.S... If it wasn’t for the visions and vampires and demons - I’d put myself into therapy. As it is? Shit, they’d lock me up, wouldn’t they?

Now I am totally embarrassed. Thanks for calling when you read that hopeless excuse for a letter. I must have been craving a little selfish sympathy when I sent it. *Bad* Cordelia. Didn’t mean to worry you - I really am okay. *Much* better. Cam has asked me to go along the coast on a road trip this weekend. Mom will be out of hospital sometime next week - might be my last chance for some sight-seeing. What do you think? What a silly question - you won’t get this card before I go!

Yours (feeling super, super-good as well as bright and cheerful! Flashes pearly-white toothy smile!)

C

Cordelia -

I may have just finished speaking with you, but I wanted to send you a quick note. There is no way I can have been of much comfort on the phone. Are you really alright? Come home - for now - and maybe go back when your Mother gets out of hospital? Or just come home. Does she truly need you there? Tell your Father to fly your Mother straight back to Bimini. Sometimes parents don’t see the pain they cause their children. Their neglect can be easier to bear than their regard. I told you I wasn’t much good at offering advice on parents - and this is hardly *constructive* advice - encouraging you to run away, turn your back on them. Ignore me - do whatever your head and your heart and your conscience tell you. I can hear you damning me for bringing your conscience into the discussion. Did I catch that from you - hearing voices in the distance!? Smile. Take Cris fishing Go out someplace - with Cam, if he makes you smile. Only if he makes you smile. I’m sorry you are feeling so down, it isn’t a good place to be, not alone. I’m sorry I can’t make you smile. It is always the other way around, isn’t it? Now you will be cursing me for apologising for things I can’t help and for which I owe no dues. Sorry. I will write a proper newsy letter as soon as I have sent this note. I promise it will be more than one rambling, incoherent, useless paragraph. Call me - anytime.

Yours,

Angel

Dear Cordelia,

I received your postcard today. I hope you decided to take the trip with Cam. I am sure he must have been able to cheer you up as well as divert your reflections from parent/life stuff. I know you wouldn’t be spending so much time with him if he wasn’t a decent person. Being alone isn’t much fun.

You will be pleased to know there have been no further mishaps at the apartment. Dennis and I have been painting the kitchen. We thought a fresh look would make you happy. Virgil’s Hardware - over in Glendale - had a selection of paint, reduced in price (drastically, they said). I got a pale lilac. Pretty and fresh, like y. Tomorrow I’ll work on getting the paint spots off the refrigerator. Dennis gets kinda over enthusiastic when he re-decorates.

Life at the office has been slow. Wesley isn’t quite as determined to be the boss as he was when I first came back. We’ve sort of eased into a partnership. He understands there are some areas I know more about and I acknowledge the same about him. We haven’t seen Gunn for several days, he is spending more time with his ‘kids’ - which is all good.

Have you considered that the Powers might quit with the visions altogether if you stay away from here?

Do you remember I said I got Casablanca from Mel’s the other day to watch with Dennis? Well I discovered a cable channel that shows all those old movies every day. They even showed Casablanca last night! We had to watch it again. Mel will be losing my business. And I still can’t find “Evita”.

Dennis complains if I start to watch a movie made after 1946, when, as far as he is concerned, I guess the world ended - unless it has one of his favorites starring. He is fine with Humphrey Bogart, Errol Flynn, Spencer Tracey, Cary Grant and Lassie. Oh and Jane Russell. But I suppose you know about Dennis’ likes and dislikes. I draw the line at the awful sugar-coated Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney affairs. Do you think he might be over-identifying with the leading men? Should I cut back his viewing time? Maybe he has met them, you know, out there.

Coming up over the next few nights we have “A Night At the Opera”, “San Antonio”, “They Gave Him a Gun”, “The Wizard of Oz” and “The Philadelphia Story”. Early yesterday morning there was a run of old silent Charlie Chaplins. Those, I like. Can you see me in floppy shoes, shuffling off down the road to kill a few vampires?

You know, if you ever decided to move away from L.A. we would be okay with your choice. Wes and I were talking it over yesterday. Not that you need to consider us in any decision, I didn’t mean to imply you did, but you can rely on our support. Even me. Reliable, honestly. You could go to College, get married, picket fence - the life you should be living. Geeze, I’ve said all this before, haven’t I?

I intended to keep this letter upbeat. I just want you to be happy, we *all* want you to be happy.

Call me collect if you need to talk. I’m happy to accept the charges, especially if I am using your phone (that was a joke).

Always,

Angel

The part about using your phone was a joke, not the part about calling me. Just in case you misunderstood.

A

I’m not sure if you are clear on it, but you don’t need to YELL down the phone long-distance nowadays. I remember the days when you did have to raise your voice to be heard but, then, I didn’t have anyone to call.

I got the message, loud and clear. From a personal point of view I am happy to have been enlightened. Very.

A

O (a ghosty-type hug from Dennis) and X (an Angel-type kiss from me)

Bloody men! Which part of “I want to come home” weren’t you understanding? Cam *is* nice. So? Why do you automatically assume that because I meet a good-looking, intelligent, 34 year old guy who is a successful architect, owns his own designer home overlooking the Indian Ocean, has no ex-wife or kids in tow, is oblivious of demons, teaches me interesting new cusses, drives a Volvo (*nobody* is perfect!) and adores me... that I will want him? He has *nothing* I want! Okay, the adoration I could cope with! I *need* to come home! I have to stop now because I can’t write any smaller on this tiny card. C

Dear Mr Well-Intentioned-But-Misguided-Vampire,

I hope you are still talking to me after I ranted at you on the phone the other day. I wasn’t too sure from your postcard until I got to the hug and kiss. So we *are* okay? After the big D-person split, I have this fear that you might leave again, not that you will go after *her* again, at least... my bad-temper, nevermind. With the rest, I can learn to deal.

Mom has been out of hospital and back here at Margo’s for the last few days. We are coping. I realise now that I will be the one who has to come to terms with my parents. It won't happen the other way. They are never going to change their opinion of me. When they first ran away to Bimini and left me with Gran, I thought I had gone from Dear “have a new car sweetie” Cordy to “Cordelia, who?” in a matter of weeks. But I hadn’t. It was always that way, I just didn’t know. The old out of sight, out of mind! He’s ‘Dad’ now when I think about him. ‘Daddy’ doesn’t fit anymore.

A few letters back you suggested talking to my Mom about childhood memories. We have been doing “remember when” stories but, surprisingly (or maybe *not*) we don’t have a lot of *shared* memories. Instead, I have virtually been relating my childhood to my Mother. Minus the Sunnydale para-normal. Anyway, I am trying to keep it positive. Less of the “months and months of fetching and carrying for you when you were sick” and more of the “when I was in 2nd grade I had two goldfish; named Whitney and Brad”. I so much want to talk to her about why I am me and why she is “Mom”. But we aren't ready yet. I look at her from my new perspective and she has this pinched face and whiny voice. Please Angel, tell me I don’t whine. One of my biggest fears now (newly added to the list) is that I *am* my Mom. I am looking at me twenty or thirty years down the road.

Shit, how did I do this? I didn’t mean to get into my Mother angst again. Sorry (that’s an apology. How’s that, huh? Cherish it, you won’t see many.) If I do turn into my Mother I won’t have anyone except myself to blame. Can’t say I wasn’t warned, can I? No, it won’t happen. I know more about me now. I know what I want.

The trip down to the south-west of the state was nice. Cam is good company and I did manage to get over all the gloomy stuff for a little while. It was hardly the seductive-getaway you were probably imagining, but it was a pleasant experience. We did a lot of caving and body-surfing. I didn’t tell you that Cris came along for the weekend, too. I’m going to adopt that kid. He keeps me sane.

I’ll tell you all about the country-side when I get home. And *that* might be sooner than I expected if Dad gets a move-on with the arrangements.

I spoke to him a few minutes ago - He was just back from a four day jaunt to Cat Cay! Poor guy. I think he may have been a little surprised when I told him to get his ass into gear, organise Mom’s return trip and hire a reliable home nurse to help her out for a while when she arrives back in Alice Town. Want a bet the home nurse will not be a grey-headed 55 year old? I intend to find out. I'm going to fly back with Mom to the Bahamas, hand her over to Dad, glare a few times, check out the nurse, kick any ass that requires kicking and then fly home.

All going well, and if I keep checking on Dad, I should be home in less than a fortnight. I probably won't write again, but I will call you as soon as I know the details.

Anything you want duty-free, courtesy Mom's Amex while I still have it in my grubby little hand?

Can't wait to see you,

Always,

Cordelia