Notes: A little vignette that takes place sort of during "I Will Remember You." You need to have seen that episode to get this. I hope you get this. Cordelia certainly hopes you get it. The little witch wouldn't let me sleep until I dealt with *her* pain....

Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, they'd all be happy and living in Maui or something equally ridiculous. Damn that Joss. (And David Greenwalt. And Mutant Enemy. And Fox. And whomever.)

"And in the end, I just can't live without you...."

"Thank you. I think that's enough."

"Huh?" Cordelia Chase stopped midsentence. She wasn't sure what to make of this development. She'd never gotten this far in an audition before. "But, I still have more lines in my monologue left."

The casting director leaned forward. "Ms. Chase, we've seen enough."

Deflated, Cordelia turned to pick up her bag. She could have sworn it was going well. She must be even more off her game than she realized if she couldn't even tell they hated her. Somehow she just knew this was Buffy's fault, too. That little Slayer could wreak havoc in anyone's life just by...

"Don't go yet. I'd like to chat with you."

"Huh?" Cordy whipped around. "What?" She was sure she'd just heard the director, Danny something -- she really was off her game if she couldn't remember his name -- actually talk to her.

"Don't worry. I don't bite."

Yes, yes, he was talking to her. And he was smiling. This was so weird. So weird, in fact, that Cordy's mouth got ahead of her brain.

"Good, 'cuz, that would actually be quite painful . . . or . . . so I've heard," she finished, mortified. The smiles of the assembled staff collectively dimmed slightly. She couldn't believe she'd said that out loud. Amazingly, the director wasn't deterred.

"You've got a great look," he told her. "And you're certainly . . . persistent."

"My mother calls it pigheaded." Cordy finally smiled -- the brilliant, knowing smile of success that she used to wear so well. This was going to be okay, she thought. And it was time to turn on the charm.

"I really want to thank you for seeing me on such short notice. And so early. When I ran in to Anthony last night after work, which had to be the most depressing day I've had since I've been in that job -- and believe me, considering the job, that's saying a *lot" -- and he told me you were having trouble casting this part, I just knew . . . I knew it was fate. The timing was perfect. If there's one thing I *have* learned from this whole Buffy and Angel mess, which you really don't care about do you so I won't go into that, is that you've got to grab opportunity when it strikes. Right? And, I mean, why should *they* be the only one's to have all their dreams come true. So I *had* to go for it. And I'm really sorry about that door to your office. Who knew it was just a cheap plywood. That's good veneer you've got there." Finally, Cordelia stopped for air and froze. Most of the staff was just staring at her.

The director -- what *was* his name -- just laughed. "Ms. Chase, Cordelia, you are so refreshing. I'll be honest with you, too. We are considering two other actresses for this role. And they do have more experience than you."

Cordelia's smile didn't fade, even as her stomach dropped about 2 inches closer to her toes.

"But," Danny Somebody-or-Other -- was it Doyle? Danny Doyle? No, that's silly -- continued, "you have a fresh face and spunk. And that's exactly what we're looking for.

And now her stomach was in her throat. "Great," she managed. "That's great." Could this *really* be happening?

"You mentioned a job," the casting director interrupted. "Are you going to have any conflicts or commitments? This will be a location shoot. Out of state."

"Actually," Cordelia actually spared a thought for Doyle . . . and Angel. But they were already planning their futures. Why not her? "My current job just sort of . . . disappeared. Over night. *poof* So, free as a bird!"

"Wonderful, wonderful," the director -- Boyle! That was it! -- was genuinely please. "I think that's all we need right now."

Cordy could feel the all-over tingle of inevitable stardom. It was actually happening! She grabbed her bag, thanking them all profusely, but not *too* profusely, of course, and turned to go.

"Louise," Danny called to a woman who'd been sitting by the door, "take down all of Ms. Chase's information so we can keep in touch. And is my 9:00 here yet?"

"Yes, Mr. Boyle. He's waiting, actually. He was just a tad early."

"Great. Then Ms. Chase can get a glimpse of her possibly future costar on her way out." He smiled at her and just then, the door opened. Prepared to meet her destiny, Cordelia fixed her best, most dazzling smile on her face and . . . froze. She could *not* believe her luck. Maybe that Buffy could be good for something after all.

Danny Boyle was talking to her, introducing her.

"Cordelia Chase, I'd like you to meet Ewan . . . ."

~*~*~*~

"I'm just saying that we're better off elsewhere," Cordelia explained. "He and Buffy will hash it out, she'll leave, Angel will brood, and we'll be back to business as usual."

She opened the door and gave her Irish friend a gentle push into the lobby.

"It's inevitable. Because nothing in my life ever changes."

The End

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