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{What ravages of spirit conjured this temptuous rage created you a monster broken by the rules of love and fate has lead you through it you do what you have to do and fate has led you through it you do what you have to do ...

and I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go every moment marked with apparitions of your soul I'm ever swiftly moving trying to escape this desire the yearning to be near you I do what I have to do the yearning to be near you I do what I have to do but I have the sense to recognize

that I don't know how to let you go I don't know how to let you go

a glowing ember burning hot burning slow deep within I'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you

I know I can't be with you I do what I have to do I know I can't be with you I do what I have to do and I have sense to recognize but I don't know how to let you go I don't know how to let you go I don't know how to let you go}

Do What You Have to Do by Sarah McLachlan

(*(*(*(*(*(*(*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)

Part One, "A Yearning to Be Near You"

Los Angeles, CA; Hyperion Hotel

"Let me say it," Angel said as he climbed the stairs to the offices of Angel Investigations. They'd all just returned from the alternate dimension, safe and unharmed, everyone. Him, Wes, Gunn, the Host....and Cordelia. Although she seemed a bit more shaken up by the episode than the rest of them, he brushed it off as a Cordy-mood and continued talking.

"Home, sweet..." he trailed off as he saw Willow sitting there, tear tracks marking her cheeks. She raised her head and the two hundred year old vampire saw it in her eyes. Buffy was dead. "Willow." he whispered.

)()()(

Cordelia sat alone in her bedroom, finishing off her fifth glass of Angel's best whiskey. Her eyes were bleary and her throat sore from sobbing. Granted, she and Buffy had never been best friends, but then again, the tears weren't all for the Slayer.

They were for herself, and for the Grusalug, who loved her, and treated her better than any man she'd ever dated...except for Xander. But she'd never seen that. Self-absorbed in her world of cheerleading and making sure she presented the best image, Cordelia had turned down the only man that ever truely meant anything to her.

Knowing she'd never get another chance with her love, Cordelia poured another glass and stared down into it, her hot tears mixing with the potent alcohol.

)()()()(

Angel sat alone in his room, staring at the only picture of Buffy he'd saved, knowing it would be better if he burned any images of her. The ones he couldn't destroy were the most painful, and those were the ones in his mind, heart and soul. The picture he held, however, was his favorite, because it captured her in a light he'd never get to hold her in.

Sunlight.

Her hair was blowing the wind, and her smile engulfed all who were around her at the time. The innocence radiating from her wrenched his soul, and made his demon rage in the cage Angel kept it locked in, because he knew he'd never see that. Ever. Again.

)()()()(

Willow couldn't cry. After Gunn had left, giving her a hug and condolences, and Wesley had gone to deal with the aftermath Council bullshit, she remained sitting at Cordelia's desk, marveling at the little things about her that had changed. More organized for one, Willow noticed, eyeing the desk, and its computer, in and out boxes, and the tidy pencil holder decorated in purple, portraying the detective agency's slogan. 'We Help the Hopeless'.

The phone rang and she jumped, her knee banging the center drawer, causing it to pop open. As she listened to a recording of Cordelia's voice cheerily giving the answering machine message, her eye caught the silver glint of a picture frame. Curious, she slid the drawer out further and removed the frame.

Her best friend stared up at her, grinning goofily. The picture was inscribed, and the wiccan slipped the picture out to read it.

'To my forever love, Cordelia Chase. Let me always be the one to make you smile, and never the one to bring you tears. Love always, Alexander Harris.'

Tears filled her eyes at the depth of his love for her, even then. She'd never realized that the lust they'd all seen had gone deeper, into a love that surpassed time and distance. Sighing, she replaced the picture and laid her head down on the desk, too tired to do anything but grieve.

(*(*(*(*(*(***)*)*)*)*)*)

Part Two....'Apparitions of Your Soul'

Cordelia was laying on her bed, she knew that much, but somehow she was standing too. Looking out the window at a figure on the street that was familiar to her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on who it was.

The secretary struggled with the lock on the window, banging on it when the stupid thing would not yield under her touch. "Goddammit! Stupid fucking window!"

She slammed her fist on the glass, fruitlessly trying to get to the person beyond her reach. And, when she saw who it was, she screamed louder and beat on the window with all of her strength, the glass first spiderwebbing, then cracking, and finally shattering under the force of her frantic blows.

Willow was drawn by the crashing and threw open the door to Cordelia's room to find the woman hanging halfway out of the frame, wailing someone's name, and on moving closer to pull her back in, she realized it was Xander's.

The weight of the older girl overwhelmed Willow and they tumbled to the floor, coming to a rest by the edge of the bed. Cordelia's sobs grew stronger and she clung to the witch, soaking her shirt with hot tears.

"I saw him, Willow. He was there, waiting for me. I couldn't get to him, I tried, I tried, I didn't want to be alone anymore, I love him, oh god, I love him..."

Willow closed her eyes and let her tears mingle with Cordelia's, knowing her pain was minimal compared to the girl's sorrow, and comforted her as best she could.

)()()()()(

Sunnydale, CA; UC Sunnydale, Rm. 216

Rupert Giles stared at the faces gathered around him and clicked the phone off for the umpteenth time. Dawn, Spike, Xander and Anya gazed at him morosely. "No word, huh?" Xander said, scooting a few more inches away from his fiance. Consquently making Anya scoot more than a few inches towards him, clinging like a sock in a static cling war.

The former watcher shook his head and sat back on Buffy's bed, cradling the phone between his hands. The same hands that had killed just a day before. He sighed. "I know she arrived there safely. Angel would have told me if she'd not been there. They would have gotten the fifty messages we've left." Chuckling drily, he glanced at Dawn.

But before he could speak, Spike had put his arm around her and cuddled her close to his chest. "You okay, lil' bit?" he asked her softly. The Slayer's younger sister couldn't reply, but burst into another round of tears, curling up on Spike's chest. The vampire hugged her tightly and met the eyes of each person in the room, lingering for a moment on Xander.

The boy turned man couldn't or wouldn't look him in the eye. Instead, guiltily, he wrapped his arm around Anya and pulled his betrothed closer.

Anya snuggled into his embrace, unable or unwilling to recognize the fact that his mind was on another.

Xander closed his eyes, but as always, the same familiar vision filled the blackness behind his eyelids. Cordelia. The love of his life. The woman he would die for, and almost had, many, many times. And most importantly, NOT the woman who was curled into his embrace right now. He tried to surpress the shudder of revulsion that went through him at the thought that he was marrying an ex-demon.

Xander Harris only loved ONE demon. And her name was Cordelia Chase, by god. And by the gods, he was gonna go and get her and MAKE her see that you do what you have to do when the person you love ISN'T the person you're with. And if you need to be with that person, you'll go through hell or high demons to get to her.

You do what you have to do.

to be continued....