Jocasta Revisited

Jocasta Revisited

By D. M. Evans

Feedback – ripewickedplum2@yahoo.com

Rating – NC-17

Pairing – Cordy/Connor

Spoilers – Up to Slouching Toward Bethlehem

Summery - Cordelia, feeling lost and alone, finds solace in
a younger man

CHAPTER ONE

Cordelia sank into the tub. The smell of vanilla filled the
air as flames danced lightly on the huge pillar candle she had found at the
corner bodega. She had a cup of hot chocolate and a Cosmo to read. She didn’t
know anything about her life, her name, her face in a yearbook, none of it
really meant anything. It would someday, she was sure of it though. Just as
sure as she was that awful liar, Angel, wouldn’t be a part of that recovered
life. She didn’t believe a word he said about their shared past, their
so-called friendship. He wasn’t in her life, in her memories, in her heart, no
matter what claims he and his friends made. She didn’t know how she knew that.
Maybe it was like how she just knew she loved chocolate, vanilla candles and
Cosmo.

When the tub grew cold, Cordelia slogged out reluctantly.
She dressed and ventured into the curtained-off portion of the warehouse loft
she was using as her bedroom. She wondered if her housemate was around. She
wanted to see Connor and yet she didn’t. She wasn’t sure of anything in regards
to that young man. He was so odd and intense. His almost feminine features were
somehow compelling and even thought she knew he was younger than she was, she
had to admit to an attraction to him.

Was that wrong? Maybe it should be, given their age
differences but she really wasn’t that much older than him. And at least he
didn’t lie to her. She couldn’t stand being lied to. Had someone lied to her
badly in the past, someone other than Angel? Of course she couldn’t remember.
Had she ever loved anyone? Did she even like men? Yes, she felt sure she did.
She didn’t know who she was but she somehow knew she was the type who didn’t
hesitate when she saw something she wanted. She went for it.

Hearing grunting, Cordelia went to investigate. She didn’t
really want to. What would it be this time? Angel? His blood-soaked friends?
Some green demon with bad fashion-sense? Someone else out to kill her? All her
warning bells were going off. It couldn’t be smart to investigate strange
sounds alone and weaponless but she did anyhow. She left her ‘room’ and went
into the main section of the warehouse loft. She rather hated it with all the
dead eyes staring off the wall at her. She didn’t know what she hated more, the
killing of animals for decoration or just how tacky it looked.

The grunting was coming from her housemate. Connor, stripped
to the waist, was fighting the air, sweat running down his skinny torso. She
watched him going through his kata. Something primal in her knew movement. She
knew it was one of her skills and it seemed to be one of Connor’s as well. It
surprised her. Despite knowing he was a warrior, she wasn’t convinced entirely
of his skill. Yes he had killed that demon and saved her but he looked like he
could blow away in a soft summer breeze let alone stand up to the gale of a
battle. He moved well alone but could
he do it in a fight consistently? Had he just gotten lucky last time? How did
she even know about fighting? She had been a cheerleader. She wasn’t buying in
to her being a demon fighter. Angel, Gunn and Fred swore she had been but they
had proven untrustworthy.

Connor whirled in a spin kick at nothing and nearly
stumbled, seeing her. She smiled.

“You’re good at that,” she said.

He flipped his shapeless brown bangs out of his eyes. “I
know.”

Coming from anyone else it would have sounded like arrogance but not from him.
“Want to take a break?” she asked.

He stared at her as if she had asked him to shoot the moon.
“Why?”

Cordy moved to the small windows and let the sun wash over
her. “Because it’s bright and beautiful out. After that thing with the mouth
and what happened afterwards I need to be in the sun. Demons couldn’t live in a
day this wonderful.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Connor said but Cordy held up
a hand.

“Don’t tell me. Just let me believe it for a day,” she
pleaded. “I need something normal right now. Want to come out with me and do
normal things?”

He hesitated for a moment and Cordelia had to wonder what
was normal for him that he looked so lost at the suggestion. “All right. Let me
shower first.”

Cordelia waited for him to do that. She passed the time
giving her clothing a critical once over. She needed a wardrobe in the worst
way. Of course for that she’d need money, which she didn’t have. Did she have
credit cards? Possibly but they’d be back at the hotel. Which of course was
also where she earned her salary if she did indeed work with Angel.

Cordelia felt something wash over her, a frantic darkness that threatened to
dissolve her into nothing; an anxiety so sudden and strong it filleted her
open. She couldn’t remember who she was. It meant she couldn’t remember what
she was good at, what she was trained for. How could she get a job? How was she
going to survive? She wrapped her arms around herself as the fear took hold.
She was lost. Something brushed heruldeulder and she ju, a , a startled squeal
tearing from her throat.

Connor backpedaled. “Sorry.”

“You scared the hell out of me, Connor,” she snapped.

The confused puppy look came back into his large eyes. “I’m
sorry. It’s just you looked so sad. Is there anything I can do?”

“Take me out of here for awhile. I was thinking of going
shopping but I’ve spent what little money I’ve had at the bodega.”

“I have money. I don’t mind taking you shopping.”

&nbs[end[endif]>

She saw the stricken look on his face, the disappointment in
his blue eyes; it was the look of most men faced with a shopping trip. She
wasn’t about to turn it down though. Still, a part of her wondered, where did
he get his money? How could Angel have turned his son out? Where were the
authorities? Obviously Connor was too young to be on his own and yet he
managed. It made her feel less afraid of her own situation and angrier with
Angel and his friends. If they could abandon a teenager to his own devices in a
city like L.A., they obviously weren’t worthy of her friendship. “Thank you.
Let’s go.”