BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BE--
My hand slammed down on the off button of the alarm clock and I struggled part-way out of the bed and stared malevolently at the red LED display of the cheap clock.
7:30
Why the heck had I set the alarm so early, I wondered sleepily. Then I remembered. Cordelia would be outside the coffee shop in fifteen minutes. We had 'not-quite-agreed' to meet for breakfast.
My eyes closed as I yawned, and an image of Cordelia flashed into my mind. Her tall, voluptuous figure, always stunningly sheathed in the most stylish, and sexy, of designer clothes. Her radiantly lovely face, framed by long dark hair, clear hazel eyes, classic features, her enticingly kissable mouth...
Her mouth, which in those moments that I *wasn't* occupying it by kissing it, continued to utter the most insulting, hurtful things about me, my clothes, my friends... No! I shook my head violently as I sat up. Not this time, my cheerleading chickpea! Xander Lavelle Harris is making other plans this morning. I quickly washed, threw on some clothes and headed down to the kitchen, intent on having breakfast here before I could change my mind.
The coffeepot was empty, still heating on the turned-on machine, the few lonely drips starting to dry on. The orange juice carton was sitting upside-down in the wastebasket. The milk pitcher in the fridge had been returned with just a few drops left in it. And the wide tupperware cylinder that Mom laughingly called the 'bread basket' boasted only sickly-sweet crullers and unappetizing cheese buns.
"Hey, X," Walter, (my little brother,) muttered brattily as he leaned against the kitchen wall, calmly alternating between his croissant and his glass of orange juice. I ignored him and headed out of the cramped kitchen into the dining room. My mother was sitting at the table, finishing off her second piece of toast, and nursing a mug of coffee. Across from her was an empty bowl with a few dribbled of cereal-y milk in the bottom, and another coffee mug, also drained. Anthony must have headed off to his college class already.
"Why, hello sweetie!" Eleanor Harris smiled, then pursed her lips in concern. "Oh, Xander, what's the matter?"
"Uh, nothing," I stammered. "Nothing at all." I pushed on through into the front hall, grabbed my jacket, and continued through the front door. There was no breakfast here for the Xand-man. It looked like I would be meeting Miss Cordelia Chase after all. Had I been fooling myself to have expected anything else?
I walked out of the coffeeshop, small traditional roast double cream double sweet java in one hand, a white paper bag containing a glazed doughnut and a tea biscuit in the other. Discreetly, impassively, I scanned the parking lot, looking for a particular red sports car.
There it was! I continued my scan for a few seconds, not giving any indication of what I had been looking for. Then, calmly, I started off through the parking lot, just exactly as if I was planning to walk over to the school, but on a course that would take me past...
The passenger door was coming up quickly. I passed the paper bag over to the last two fingers of my left hand. As I got within reach, I swung the door open, got in, and pulled the door closed, all in only a few seconds.
"Buckle up," Cordelia said from behind the wheel. I didn't have time to, though, because she immediately threw the car into reverse and turned quickly out of the parking space. I could only just keep from spilling my coffee.
Cordy turned onto the road, and once she settled more or less into her lane I felt brave enough to pull the seatbelt on. But I couldn't do that with the coffee in my hand, so I reached over to put it in the cup-holder.
"Hey!" Cordelia shouted at me as I was about to put it in.
"What?"
"What did I tell you last time?" she asked. "What's in the next cup-holder over?"
"Um," I looked at it, wondering where the catch to the question was. "A coffee cup. Probably contains a chocolate cappuccino, half-caf, nonfat, extra foam."
"And *whose* cappuccino?"
"Um, yours?" I hazarded.
"Precisely." She tossed her hair. "Your coffee is not allowed to go next to my coffee."
"B-but..." I stammered unbelievingly at her. "Cordelia, there's only two cupholders!"
"Not my problem!" she smirked as she turned another tight corner.
I carefully balanced my coffee on the dashboard and zipped up my seat belt, just seconds before Cordy turned into a parking lot off Shelby. Great.
Cordelia drew her arms back from the steering wheel, popped her seat belt, and took a sip of cappuccina while staring me. I felt just a little like a bug under a reading glass, but at the same time I couldn't help but notice how lovely her hazel eyes were, or the neckline of her designer top...
"What are *you* staring at?" Cordelia sneered. Opening volley.
"Oh, nothin' that you aren't showin', darlin'," I drawl. Forecourt return,
"Ohh!" Cordelia recoiled as if physically revolted. "You're such a jerk, Harris, you know that?" High return to my backhand side.
"Oh, yeah, good one - coming from the High and mighty Princess Tease!"
"Slimeball!"
"Nympho!!"
And then we were on each other, kissing like there's no tomorrow. I'm damned if I can explain what happens between the two of us. At this point, I've given up trying. Her lips certainly do feel soft sometimes, that's all I know.
I guess we had been making out for about ten minutes. I was taking a reluctant break for air and a sip of coffee when...
"Aack!" I ducked down, sliding myself as far down under the dash as I could, and in the process spilling some coffee on the seat.
"Hey!" Cordy yelled down at me. "Whatcha do that for... and why are you down there?"
"Outside!" I said.
"What... I don't see anything."
"Then perhaps you could direct your attention," I began huffily, "to the two teenaged girls making their way through the parking lot on a course that will take them right beside this car. Casual inspection shows one to have chestnut hair and the other blonde, and a closer examination will show them to be friends of mine!"
"Oh," Cordy said, squinting over.
"So?" I squeaked out. "Could we get the heck OUTTA here, please?"
"But I'm not *done* yet," she murmurs, pouting.
"Cordelia!"
"Oh, okay, wussy-boy." She turns the key and starts to drive off.
"Hey... Cordy." Buffy's voice floats by as the car picks up speed.
I'm not sure, but I thought I heard a second voice as she was turning out of the parking lot. "She's definitely weird these days..."
I moseyed casually into the Sunnydale High Library, emphasis on casual.
Willow was surfing through webpages of ancient creatures on the desktop computer, and Buffy was beating the stuffing out of a punching bag. Business as usual, in other words.
"So, Buff-ster?" I called out over the noise of the (very attractive) Slayer's workout. "How was your morning?"
Buffy turned away from the punching bag and looked at me. "What do you mean? It's still morning."
I tried to chuckle nonchalantly, but it came out sounding more like a wheeze. Oh well. "Yeah, but surely there was much of interest in your morning so far."
Willow broke in at this point. "Buffy's a little grumpy today - she did early rounds."
This was new. "Early rounds?"
"Yeah." Buffy sighed. "There hasn't been that much to hunt in the evenings and middle-nights, so Giles said I should sleep early and do patrol from three AM to dawn." She snorted.
"What, you can't handle a bit of vampire-slaying before breakfast?" I teased Buffy.
She shot me a black glare with daggers in it. Buffy is not a girl who it is usually very smart to tease. "I'm not a morning person. I'm especially not a 3 AM-person."
"So, are you gonna keep doing it?" I was betting that the morning patrols were the reason Buff and Will were over by Shelby this morning.
"Yeah, we're trying it out for a week," Willow answered. Buffy shot her an 'Oh, it's *we* now, is it?' glare. "I'm just walking with Buffy to school at 8:30, I admit," she confessed out loud.
I shrugged and tuned out the rest of the conversation in favor of pleasant daydreams, (starring a girl whose names begin with C - I won't bore you with the details...)
I went over to talk to Cordelia after geography class. What the heck - you only live once, don't you? Assuming that existence after death as a vampire, zombie, or ghost doesn't count, that is.
"What do you want?" she sneered as I walked up. Oh boy, she's even got an irresistable *sneer!* Maybe I *am* sick, but that's neither here nor there for now.
"Oh, I just thought I'd you invite on a bit of a friendly dare."
Her eyes narrowed appreciatively - we were off again. "What the heck are you talking about, Harris?"
I smiled naively at her. "There's an old abandoned house on Rickley, the old Van Dorn place. They say old lady Van Dorn hid some pretty valuable jewelry somewhere in her house, and that it's never been recovered. I'm gonna go there and check it out after school, and I'm *challenging*," I put what I hoped was sufficient challenge into the word, "you to come with me. If you've got the nerve." I did my best to sneer back at her, but I don't think that worked either.
Cordy smiled, enjoying the tension. "Rumor has it there's more than jewelry in that house. It's said to be haunted." She smiled treacherously. "Now, some may sneer at that kind of story," she whispered, which I couldn't help but find sexy. "But we both know that there really are creepies out there, and that the smart don't ask for trouble."
"Scared, Cordy?" I laughed a dry laugh. "The stories about ghosts there are just that, stories - from little kids who haven't been within fifty feet of the house and wouldn't know an ethereal spirit from a creaky floorboard if they had."
"And do you have any idea how much grime and dust there is in abandoned houses?" Cordelia continued.
"Really private, though," I quipped back, and smiled a bit as Cordelia blushed. "What's wrong, are you worried about getting your designer duds dirty?" I teased her. "Go home and change first, then? Don't you have an old sweater and some blue jeans that don't cost the town budget?" I paused, then applied the carrot. "Even that would look good with Lady Van Dorn's sapphire necklace."
"I'll meet you there, at five," Cordelia said. "Just you and me."
"Of course," I agreed. "Can't wait to see you there!"
I swung by home after school, to drop off my bag before meeting up with Cordelia at the Van Dorn place.
Dad was in the living room as I came in. "Hey, son, what's your hurry?" he called out as I dumped my knapsack on the chair in the front hall and turned around. "Come on in, have a talk with yer old man."
I groaned inside. Dad's been on a 'quality time with family' kick lately; I think it's his way of denying that we're in trouble since his hours got cut back at work. "Um, I don't have a lot of time," I said. I'd hung out in the library with Buff and Will after classes, as usual, and it was half past four now.
"Oh, really? Too busy to sit down and have a talk with your father?"
"Uh, no, I guess..."
"I don't know what your problem is, boy." He got up out of the chair, apparently so he could project more loudly. "You're never around, you spend all your time off in that drafty little library or that seedy club, or goodness knows where. The only time I see you is when you condescend to show up around dinner and eat mah food!"
I know I shouldn't have, but I just had to take one shot back. "And what's your problem, Dad? I mean, when was the last time you called me by my name? Do you even remember it? It doesn't look like it, it's always 'son' or 'boy' or 'hey you.'"
"Of course I do..." His brow furrowed in thought, and then tentatively he extended a guess. "Alex?"
"My point exactly." For the second time today I stormed over to the front door and slammed it shut behind me.
I got a coke at the corner store and walked around for a bit, cooling off. I showed up at the Van Dorn place about ten minutes to five, and Cordelia was already there, standing around awkwardly on the sidewalk in front of the house.
Oh! My lips pursed all by themselves when I caught sight of her. As I had suggested, she was wearing blue jeans and a sweater. The jeans, a simple style, clung very much to her legs and hips, and the sweater showed off the contours of her chest and the slenderness of her midsection. But it wasn't just that. Just for a second, in those clothes, she seemed to be a different person, a less stuck-up, less proud Cordelia. Someone, the thought flashed into my head, that I could actually like, instead of just wanting.
"Finally, you show up. Can we get this stupid dare started already?" she said to me. "Or are you too busy staring at my boobs?"
So much for the kinder gentler Cordy. "After you, my dear," I replied, gesturing grandly.
"Nuh-uh." She shook her head definitively. "This is *your* dare, and darers always go first. Don't you remember that?"
"Fine with me," I said, and led the way through the fence gate and up the porch. The front door was locked, but a window in the door was already broken away, and it was child's play to reach through and flip the knob around. As I open the door, its hinges squealed, one of those truly bone-jarring squeals. I admit it, I jumped, but next to me Cordy jumped higher. I chuckled to myself just loud enough for her to hear, but didn't say anything.
The house was kinda dark, and, as Cordelia had suspected, very musty and dusty, but there didn't seem to be much danger of the floors giving way or the roof falling in. "Where should we check first?" I asked her. "The master bedroom, hmm hmm?"
"Oh, yeah right." Cordelia turned around on the landing to glare sexily at me. "In your dreams, Harris."
"What?" I affected innocence. "Where else would you expect jewelry to be?"
"How about your bottom drawer, Lady Xandaria?"
Ooh... nasty cheap shot. Needed to come up with a comeback fast... "Nope, sorry. Why - do you the guys you date *normally* dress up secretly as girls?"
"Ohh," Cordelia moaned. "No, that's you; all the girls you've dated actually *are* guys. And that doesn't include me - we aren't dating and never have been."
"Liar!"
"Looney!"
"Skank!"
And then we were kissing again, my knees threatening to buckle under me as Cordelia tryed to suck my tongue out of my throat, doing my best to return the favor. Does anybody notice a pattern here??
"You've moaned about it, complained about it, and whined about it..." I droned on giddily, "and here you have it! The grimiest, grossest, most disgusting part of any abandoned house... the basement!"
"Haha, very funny," Cordelia said. "Actually, it's not that bad."
"Oh, yeah, sorry. I was going to come down here first and coat the walls with mildew, but I forgot."
She turned to me with a dangerous frown on her face, then leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth!
"Wha-huh?" I babbled incoherently when the pleasant sensations finally ebbed away and I clued in that she had let me go.
"You're kinda cute when you're trying to make me mad," was all she said.
"Ooh!" I pondered over that. "I wish I had tried harder to make you mad when we were up in the bedroom!"
"Nah, this is a better place for it," Cordy replied.
"Huhh? Why?"
"'Cause your mind's always in the gutter, Harris!" She giggled a bit nastily at her joke, then ran off and started carefully poking around.
I did the same. For a while, we couldn't find anything, just like in the rest of the house. Then, all of a sudden... "Well looky here!"
"What?" Cordelia asked, coming over to have a looksee. A section of the basement wall would slide in and swivel up to reveal a small cubbyhole, just five inches or so on a side.
"I think there's something inside," I told her.
"Yeah, a mouse-trap probably," Cordelia said. "Reach one finger in, and... WHAP!"
"Hardy har-har," I shot back witheringly. Very carefully, doing my best to check for mousetraps, I reached into the hole. "There's a box!" I said, bringing it out.
And what a box! It was one of those fancy... um, jewel-boxes or something like that, engraved and looking like it was made of gold or something itself, standing on four short legs, one at each corner. Cordelia yelped in delight and carefully lifted the lid off.
"Ooh!" Nestled inside the small box were a pair of gold and emerald earrings, a gold ring set with a ruby, a pendant with a sapphire set into it on a thin gold chain, and a handsome gold men's watch.
"We did it!" Cordelia squealed. "We found it!"
"Well, technically I found it," I protested. Cordelia's face immediately creased into a half-frown, as if to say 'You try to keep the pretty things away from me, boy, don't expect any more smoochies.' Once again, I was blown away by her sexiness. But not enough to cave in completely, however. "You can have any three of the pieces you want, counting the box, and not including the watch." I took said watch out of the box and slipped it around my wrist. "That, I'm taking," I explained unneccesarily.
"Oooh," Cordelia said, making a bit of a sad face. "Do I have to pick now?"
"Nope," I told her. "Come on, let's get out of here."
"Okay!" Cordelia grabbed the box, put the lid back, and sauntered off for the stairs. I watched the way her butt moved in those tight jeans as she led the way, and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever get her to pick, now that all four pieces were in her hands.
Quickly enough we were back at the front door, and Cordelia flipped the lock back open. She pulled on the doorknob, but it didn't move. "Hey!" she complained at it.
"It's probably just stuck," I said, "Let me in there." I pulled - and it didn't move. I pulled harder - and the door get go and swung open. "There you go, my dear," I said, bowing a little and gesturing for her to lead the way again...
And the door slammed itself closed again! Totally bewildered, I turned around - only to see three butcher knives floating in the air, ranging from crotch level to eye level, pointing right at us!
"Okay," I deadpanned. "This could be a problem."
Cordelia swung around to see what I was looking at, and screamed. Ouch! That had been a perfectly good ear, once upon a time.
Two of the knives floated dangerously forward, one threatening the neck of each of us, while the third hung back. Cordy screeched again.
"Can you understand me?" I blurted out, all of a sudden.
"What?" Cordelia whined, sounding totally confused. "I can understand what you're saying, but I don't understand why you're asking me if I understand..."
"That's because I'm not talking to you, Cordelia," I said, trying to get my voice even.
"Who else are you talking to? We're the only ones here!"
"The knives," I answered simply. "Or whoever, whatever is making them move." I pointed at the third knife. "Wave twice if you do."
The knife swivelled back and forth twice, then floated further forward to menace my face.
"Are you angry? Because we took the jewelry box?" A sharp jerk up and down. "You can have it back." I slipped the watch off and tossed it back further into the house. It started floating in the air too, a few paces past the knives.
Cordelia was looking at all this in horror. "Give back the jewellry box, Cordelia," I told her.
"What?!?"
"D'you wanna die here, Cordelia? Give it back!"
Reluctantly Cordelia brought the box out in both her hands and gave it a little toss upwards. It floated away, paused to take the watch back on board and sailed back towards the basement.
I tried the door. Firmly closed again; I couldn't budge it. "What else?" I asked aloud.
A knife made a gesture that I couldn't interpret. "You want something else?" I pressed.
A nod. "An apology?"
The knives drew back just a little. "We're sorry we took your things," I said. "We didn't know that anyone was using them. They're beautiful, and we just thought that they should be enjoyed. We didn't realize that they still were being appreciated right where they were."
A pause, and then a blade made another threatening gesture at Cordelia. "Yeah, yeah," she babbled. "What he said. I'm sorry too."
And with that, the door swung wide open. I hurried out and down the stairs, and Cordelia was right behind me all the way.
"Well," I puffed once we had gotten to the sidewalk. "That was exciting."
"I can't believe you!" Cordelia exploded. "Making me give all that away? Do you know how much pieces like that *cost*? Do you know how *good* they would have looked on me??"
"Cordelia," I said, disbelievingly. "It was either give them up or get gutted by a... a poltergeist or whatever. There wasn't really much choice."
"If you cared at *all* about me, you would've found another way!" And she stormed off.
"Hey!" I yelled back at her. "Who says I *do* care about you??"
I walked slowly back home. It had been a fun adventure, but Cordy was right - it would have been so much better if we could've kept that little piece of treasure we had found. Then again, considering the stories, we probably weren't the first kids to find that jewelry box and been forced by the ghost to give it back.
When I got into the house, I tried to head straight up to my room, but I heard my mom's voice from the landing. "Oh, hi sweetheart. Guess who came by to see you?"
Curious, I turned back and headed over into the living room. There, sitting with a faded smile on our old sofa, was Willow. Her face brightened in a moment.
"Hi!" she said, getting up. "Where've you been?"
"Oh, just around, Will," I said. No need to go into the gory details, right? "What are you doing here?"
"Visiting my best friend, silly, what else?" She giggled at me. I noticed that my mom had left the room. "We haven't talked much lately," she continued. "What's up with you?"
"Oh, nothing much," I breezed her off. "How about you? What's new in Willow's world?"
THE END.
