Cordelia Chase had gotten used to weirdness, it had taken a couple years but eventually she just gave up being normal, of course no one else knew that, and she intended to keep it that way. She had promised her self that after Sunnydale she would just pretend nothing had ever happened and go on with her dreams to be an actress, and just like Sunnydale, everything was falling apart. It all started innocently enough the first time, weird new girl shows up and people gossip and analogize, except her, she just gossiped. Buffy? What the hell kind of pseudo new age crap name is that? Did you hear she got kicked out of her last school? In the end it was all Buffy’s fault, she so hadn’t asked to be one of the “Scoobies” it just kind of happened. Then there was the matter of Xander, no she wouldn’t think of him , it was to painful.
My Sweetheart the Drunk
When people are drunk they tend to remember things they would rather forget, and when Doyle was drunk he talked about home. Angel and Cordelia always felt sorry for him when he got drunk, because the next morning he would be in horrible pain, not to mention the possibility of a vision adding to his suffering. But nonetheless they sat by him and waited with voyeuristic intentions to find out as much about his past as possible before he sobered up. They knew this was the only way to find out more about the mysterious Irishman that had entered they’re lives months ago. Cordelia had once suggested intentionally getting him drunk and Angel had glared at her and in a gentle but firm voice had told her that they couldn’t force him to tell about his past. But apparently now with Doyle swaying back and forth in his seat on the coach was fair game. Cordelia saw the way Angel looked at him when he talked about his homeland, their homeland. Angel would tell stories too sometimes, and she swore she heard a little of his Irish accent in his speech. But mostly he just smiled gently and listened.