Summary: Cordelia, waiting at a bus stop, reflects on her past and thinks about her future.
Characters/Pairings: Just Cordelia and her memories.
Disclaimer: Not mine, ME and Whedon.
Notes: Set the summer between S3 BtVS and S1 AtS. Something I played around with at work and finally finished it. Thanks to Deb, for the beta.
There was good underneath the bad, memories she could file under ‘fond’ rather than ‘forget’.
Golf lessons at the Sunnydale Country Club where her dad was more likely to wrap his club around a tree as get a hole in anything. Shopping for bras with Harmony at the mall, parking with boys on the lip of the mountain that looked over Sunnydale proper.
Sunnydale was still her town, where she grew up and grew older, before it had been the mouth of hell that spewed bad things and attracted worse. It was too warm in September and too cold in March, and she wore her first heels to a charity ball that funded the rebuilding of the town library in 1994.
Mayor Wilkins had been there, though, and had given a speech that she’d snuck out in the middle of because she was bored beyond tears.
She’d known then he had to be evil.
She’d driven by this very same bus stop a million times, on her way to somewhere, sometimes to be seen in the right pair of shoes.
Other times just to have fun.
The Fair that happened once a year in the middle of summer, where she and Harmony got henna tattoos for the first time…an occasion that sparked her secret love of body art.
The Wine Festival was during the fall, in the middle of park. She’d been crowned Spirit of the Festival twice there.
Even the woods held some goodness for her, tucked into a corner of her mind that still held a soft spot for her month-long experiment with the Girl Scouts.
So even though she only had one suitcase holding a few t-shirts, a portfolio of head shots, and one really pretty cocktail dress, she could say with honesty that she was going to miss Sunnydale.
The Sunnydale she grew up in.
But she’d outgrown it. Or it had outgrown her. She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that it wasn’t her town anymore. It belonged to Slayers and monsters and cheating ex-boyfriends and fraudulent parents who had nothing left to give her, it seemed, not even love.
So it was time to go.
The Greyhound got closer and she stood up, clutching her suitcase. She was nervous and scared, but she knew she was doing the right thing. Wherever it was that she was meant to be, whoever she was meant to be, it wouldn’t happen here. Not in Sunnydale.
She felt it in her bones.
The bus stopped in front of her, air brakes squealing, and the door opened, inviting her to step inside.
It was okay, she thought as she stepped up, holding onto the metal rail.
There was a better where to find.