Organizing Giles’ own personal library had been a lot harder than she’d thought. Apart from the fragile nature of some of the more choice texts she’d handled, there was always more of them that seemed to be popping up. Just when she’d had the shelve organized to her liking, she’d find another box of books somewhere in the corner. After that, she’d have to completely tear down the organized shelve, and start again. The list the Englishman had provided to her hadn’t been helping things either. The question had become not how long it would take, but rather, how many books he actually had.
And then there was the fact that some of the volumes were missing. Most had been rescued before the high school had been blown up, the mayor inside with it. But a few were still MIA. At first, Willow had wondered if she had them at the apartment with Tara, but upon further investigation, a phone call with Tara, she’d found that they didn’t have them. That didn’t leave her with many options when it came to where the volumes might be.
And all of that had led her to phoning Cordelia, just to see if Angel might have the volumes at the office.
“Cordelia?” It’s Willow…”
“Willow, hey! It’s been a while.”
Despite the fact that they pretty much stayed in touch (at least compared to the rest of the Sunnydale crew), this was the first time Willow had called in a long while, so hearing her old classmate’s voice over the phone was a pleasant surprise for Cordelia. Though it was highly likely that the reason she was calling was much less pleasant, but they’d get to that eventually.
Sunlight and birdsong stirred the Slayer from her sleep, her green orbs opening gradually. Buffy let out a gentle sigh, feeling the warmth next to her as her eyes fell to her partner. Cordelia was still sound asleep, Buffy couldn’t help but notice how innocent she looked.
Smiling softly, she leaned down, brushing Cordy’s hair off her face to kiss her cheek before she pulled back the sheets. She made her way down to the kitchen to prepare some coffee for when her lover woke. Mug in hand, the little blonde moved back upstairs, opening the door quietly.
Only minutes after Buffy left, Cordelia awoke to an empty bed. The smell of coffee already permeated the air; she could hear someone bustling about downstairs, their noisy movements the only thing disrupting the otherwise silent Sunday morning.
Figuring that it had to be Buffy who was down there– - the empty bed, a highly rare occurrence for Cordelia nowadays, was one huge piece of evidence; plus, there was no way that Dawn was up this early, not on a weekend– - Cordelia rolled over onto the vacated side of the bed. She allowed her eyes to flutter back shut, not even reopening them when she heard the telltale click of the door opening, signaling Buffy’s return.
