Cordelia Dreams...
by Kate Bolin

During her coma, Cordelia dreams.

sleep hurt hot ow blood fire laughter laughter stop laughing it isn't funny any more baby grown into boy and the look on his face as he put it inside and when it happened it's growing it's coming it's filling me up and out and oh no that's not me that's not me

She moans and blinks and it seems like she's almost awake.

blood dabbed on my huge ugly belly with the monster inside the ashes of Darla turning into mud no no it was not me couldn't you see

But she's still asleep.


"What are you doing here?"

Willow shrugs, and she turns into how she was when she was fifteen, all long hair and overalls and social inadequacy. "Dreamwalking, I guess."

Cordelia's body is also fluid, changing styles almost as fast as she changes her mind. Long hair, short hair, brown hair, blonde hair, different clothes from different lives. "I didn't think..." There's a bloody piece of rebar sticking out of her side. " could do that." She's wearing all white and glowing.

Willow shrugs again. Her hair is short and she's wearing a shirt splattered with blood. "Eh, it's not hard."


Down down down and Willow's above her laughing as Cordelia pulls her down into the clover/weed lawn of Sunnydale High, cheerleading skirt up past her thighs as Willow giggles and lands ungraciously on her lap, shoulders and elbows pressing against the smoothly waxed and tanned thighs of the cheerleading queen.

"Ooof," Willow says into her belly. Her fingers slide under Cordelia's bright yellow sweater and trace over the barely there scar where the rebar once sat, covered in blood and grime. "Are you still dreaming?" she asks.

Cordelia shrugs and pushes Willow's fingers lower. "If I am, I don't care."


They're in a crowded living room, with all the girls asleep. Willow's hands are dipping lower and lower and Cordelia shakes her head. "We'll wake them up," she whispers. "Where do you sleep?"

Willow frowns, slightly. "I don't know," she finally says. "I was in Joyce's room, but Faith's there now..."

Cordelia raises an eyebrow. "And you're not with her?" she teases.

Willow grins. "She's pretty hot, but I think she's the only woman to ever come out of prison even straighter than she was when she went in."

Cordelia laughs (quietly, quietly), and pulls her up for a kiss.


The polar bear menaces above them, and they can hear Connor's heavy breathing behind them, the thrust-thrust-thrust of teenage sex and the little moans that Cordelia only ever used when she was faking it. "You slept with him?" Willow asks, teasingly, in-between kisses.

Cordelia stiffens, tries to pull away, trapped by memories and her subconscious brain. "I..." She tries to find the words to make Willow understand. "It wasn't me," she finally says.

Willow kisses her forehead and smiles, pulling her close. "I know," she says quietly, kissing her again. "If it was, then I wouldn't be here."

Cordelia smiles.


Oz is staring at the band on stage, and Willow and Cordelia are necking behind him. Willow looks up and glares. "I hated her, you know."

Cordelia looks up at the girl on stage and shrugs. "Bad dye job, pathetic're better off without him if he's lured by that."

Willow shrugs. "She was a werewolf," she finally says. "He must've needed something from her that I just couldn't provide, being human and all. I wonder how it was."

"Doesn't matter," Cordelia says flippantly. "He couldn't do this to you, could he?" and she bites down on Willow's shoulder.


There's a table full of herbs in the middle of the lobby, and Cordelia's knocking them over one by one, moaning as Willow licks her way down her nude body.

Willow grins inbetween licks and begins to chant something, softly, too soft for Cordelia to make out the words. Cordelia lifts her head slightly. "What?"

"Shhhh," Willow says, before chanting again.

There's a pause, and suddenly a heady rush of power slams against her and tickles against her tongue as she moans again and again.

Then Willow's licking and sucking there, and there aren't words for how that feels either.


The incense in Tara's dorm room makes Cordelia sneeze, and Willow lifts her head just slightly. "Bless you," she says, laughing.

"Oh God," Cordelia says. "Only you would be that polite in the middle of sex."

Willow grins and slips one finger around Cordelia's clit. "May I?" she asks. "After all, I wouldn't want to seem too forward."

"Oh God," Cordelia groans. "Oh God, just do it already!"

Willow kisses her thigh. "Please, Miss Chase, may I fuck you?" she teases. "May I please stick my fingers in your pussy?"

Cordelia groans again and pushes Willow's head towards her clit.


Even in her dreams, Phantom Dennis is helpful, and tightens the cap on the nail polish before it's flung off the table by Cordelia's foot.

Willow has long blonde hair and she's wearing Harmony's nightie and when she looks down, she starts giggling uncontrollably.

"Shut up," Cordelia growls. "You're the one with the blonde hair."

Willow flicks aside a blonde lock and laughs again. "I had blonde hair," she says. "I saved the world, I made every potential a vampire slayer, and I had blonde hair." She slides down. "It's your dream that dressed me as Harmony. Pervert."

"Shut up!"


She can hear singing in the background, but it might just be her mind, because Willow's fingers and tongue are doing something in unison that are driving her wild and making her moan in perfect pitch and harmony along with the singing.

Willow's humming -- humming -- and the vibrations of her voice slide against her body and drive her even more wild. Willow's voice and Willow's fingers and Willow's tongue and she's slick-hot- wet with desire.

Willow pulls away just long enough to breathe, giggling. "I liked it when we sang," she says. "But I like this more." She dives back in.


And then she comes.

And comes and comes and comes and comes, screaming out Willow's name as she bucks and thrusts and sweats and cries and shakes over and over with the sheer raw energy of a body long denied orgasm.

When she finally collapses back, she's got the door handle stuck into her back and her right leg propped up on the driver's seat headrest. "Ow," she mutters, trying to straighten.

"Ow," Willow replies, banging her head on the roof. "What made you get such a small thing anyway?"

Cordelia looks up, and there she is, ascending peacefully. "Dunno."


And she sleeps.