Cordelia shook her shoulders, feeling the shift's
caress and the tafetta rustle around her bodiced
figure. She looked at her watch again. The
jewel-encrusted Cartier was really too gaudy for daily
wear, but David had gotten a peck on the cheek for his
trouble and she was wearing it now, wasn't she?
Now if only he'd get here more than a little on time,
for once. But this was a special occasion, where she'd
be in her element amongst the stars, even if she
remembers when the concealer wasn't almost as thick as
pancake batter and yet still not cutting it.
Sometimes, many times; always dark circles. But
tonight her eyes were fresh, her scent delectable, the
head marvelously clear and free.
Tonight she felt absolutely delicious, and she knew
she looked exactly how she felt.
Angel would be fine with the others; the strengthening
wards on her person were sometimes even curiously
effective against the throbbing Industrial-strength
Symphonies of Pain forwarded from the Powers. Gunn was
resting peacefully, buried proper. Wesley and Fred had
called from Seattle just the other day, a
pronouncement on having decided to name the twins
"Charles and Cordelia" and who knew anyways that she'd
live to see a namesake born? SO tres Dynasty, and she
loved them both for doing it.
She loved them all.
Now if only David would get here soon. As an
afterthought, what came to mind was that lateness
would ensure the fanfare entrance. Again, in one of
those moments where she still surprised herself,
Cordelia mused on how she probably wouldn't mind the
lack of flare if they weren't to have entirely too
grand of a red carpet walk, and that the reason would
be closer to indifference than humility or shyness.
Shy, her? PUH-lease.
She took out her compact for a final look. Impeccable
lipstick. Decolletage brimming with diamonds, which
could've been hers had she agreed to David's
insistence on keeping them. These were entirely too
heavy for regular nightly use. But it is sweet. He
is. If he asked her again for her hand in marriage, if
the bubbles of tonight's champagne got to her head,
who knows? She might finally grace the question with a
Yes.... maybe the thirtieth time's the charm..
The mirror shows her the self she's always known, the
unchanging part within. It only gets better. Perfect
face, and she's included the long jagged scar
zigzagging like lightning across her left temple.
There's character, and that's sexy. The silver glass
eye blinks with the brown. Gorgeous.
Hey, sometimes it's good to be vain. To enjoy
yourself. Especially when you know you've got it.
The circumstances certainly were a little different,
how and when she'd pictured her first Oscars.
An arm encircles her waist. The kiss on her cheek gets
a smile just as warm.
"I'm glad you made it, " she says dryly, but there's
no mistaking the affection.
He hands her a tulip from behind his back with
"Well, this is new. Thank you, David."
"You. Are. the most beautiful woman alive."
She laughs, long and hard and very honestly.
"Thank you. I know."
Cordelia. Alive. Watch.