Title: Fields of Gold
Summary: She had loved the light her entire life – danced in the fields of gold and bathed in the warmth of day. Yet now the dark comforted her, soothed and calmed her soul.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: JF, GTC/A, anywhere else just ask.
Notes: ‘Fields Of Gold’ was released in 1993 so by my calculations, Cordy would have been 13 years old. Ya know, for those who care… A/N: I wrote this over at my LJ (again) for samsmom (just a quick challenge fic – again! – in which she gave me 3 words and I had to come up with something. Lyrics are in italics from the song ‘Fields Of Gold’ by Sting).
Thanks/Dedication: Written for samsom
Feedback: Yes please!
Her fingers brushed over a fine sheet of dust, slipping into the crevice between slim, square-shaped covers as she flipped through them, searching for a suitable disc. Cordy blew lightly across the top of the cardboard box, eyes scanning the printed words between each space of her fingers.
“Come on Angel, you have to have something good in here…” She pursed her lips, dismissing each and every disc with a flick of her thumb. Something caught her eye and she paused, a smile curling her lips as she pulled it out of the box, gently smoothing her hand over it. “Perfect.”
Eager strides carried her down to the hotel lobby, her short hair neatly tied back in a ponytail as she lifted her duster from the counter, hurrying behind it.
The record slipped into the player easily, making that slick, creaking noise that was always heard in the movies. The sound flickered, the tail-end of a whisper – and then suddenly it played, smooth and rich in the velvety tones of a man’s serenade.
You’ll remember me, when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley
You’ll forget the sun in its jealous sky as we walk in fields of gold
Cordelia closed her eyes, the tender memory of a man’s embrace drifting over her, warming her heart. She swept the duster across the wooden shelf, almost rhythmically alongside the music, following flattened marble surfaces and contoured felted desks.
So she took her love for to gaze a while upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold
Time took its course and yet Cordelia danced to her own speed, her own rhythm, her eyes half closed in dreamy recollection as she cleaned the lobby, her body moving ever so slightly in time with the music. It moved her – the intimacy of a memory in a large, dimly lit room – all alone, and yet strangely peaceful.
It was odd how she’d become accustomed to the dark, to the deep emptiness of the shadows where creatures lurked, protected from the light. She had loved the light her entire life – danced in the fields of gold and bathed in the warmth of day. Yet now the dark comforted her, soothed and calmed her soul the way it must have benefited Angel’s, silencing the tortured screams that echoed inside.
She found herself smiling, dancing like a memory in the dark. And it wasn’t so bad…
Will you stay with me? Will you be my love among the fields of barley?
You’ll forget the sun in its jealous sky as we lie in fields of gold
Startled, she turned, the duster in her hand dropping noiselessly to the ground beside her. The hand on her heart slowly relaxed and she smiled, surprised she hadn’t heard him come in. “Angel.”
He was ever the gentleman, bending to retrieve her duster and returning it to her. “Hey.” He smiled softly, his eyes shining in the dark, shining in that way they always did when he looked at her. “What are you still doing here?” He glanced at his watch, sliding his hands back into the large pockets of his coat. “It’s late.”
Cordy shrugged, dropping the duster onto the counter. “I must have lost track of time.” She ran a hand through her hair as he removed his coat, slung it over the rack and waited for her to continue. “I was cleaning.”
“I see that.” Angel replied, running a finger over the counter top and grinning at her when it came away dust-free. “Nice job.” His eyes narrowed as sound caught up with him, the song beginning once again as the record continued to play. “Is that one of mine?”
“Yeah.” Cordy shot him a cheeky grin. “Took me a while to find something I actually recognised, old man.” She winked. “Minus the Manilow.”
Angel pointed a finger at her. “Don’t start with the Manilow comments.”
She laughed, the sound echoing through the lobby, carrying on the waves of music. “You’re such a weirdo, Angel.” She raised an eyebrow. “It’s damn fortunate you’re hot.”
It was strange, she thought, how his face seemed to light up almost instantly. It made butterflies take flight in her stomach, made her long for things she didn’t necessarily believe in. “You think I’m hot?”
Cordelia rolled her eyes, hiding her smile and turning to look for her coat. “Dork.”
Silence followed as she tried to remember where she’d left it, the music still playing in the space between them. Nothing was said for a short, comfortable moment, until his voice drew her attention.
“Why this song?”
Cordy looked up. He was still standing in the same position, a stoic statue against the backdrop of dreamless night, always watching her. “I’m sorry?”
“You’ve been listening to the same song over and over.” Angel took a step towards her, forming out of the shadows like a ray of light. “Why this song?”
She paused, finding her coat and lifting it into her arms. “It’s nothing.” She shrugged, a shy smile touching her lips as she remembered. “When it came out I was just a kid.” She glanced at him. “Before my family moved to dysfunctional-ville and I knew about slayers and vampire best friends with souls…”
Angel smiled, encouraging her to go on.
“And I remember my dad playing it when I came home from school one day. My mom was out and he was just in the living room, swaying to the music – awfully by the way, he’d put you to shame.” She smirked at Angel, her heart jolting at the tender way he was just watching her, something bright in his eyes that added a glow to her black.
“I told him he looked like a dork.” She murmured, laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. Cordy breathed in, her eyelashes fluttering, heavy with *something* as a fondness flooded her veins, the sights and smells of the memory returning vividly to her. “And he laughed and said I looked lovely.”
“I’m sure you did.” Angel said softly.
Her eyes stung and she recognised the weight on her eyelashes, willing it away as her heart pounded. She kept her voice steady, even as Angel edged closer. “Then he took my hands and told me he wanted to dance with the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.” When she looked up at him her eyes were huge, glassy. “And so we danced. To the whole song. Just me and my dad in fields of gold…”
A tear dropped to her cheek, more from the affection of an intimate memory than any sort of sadness. It didn’t seem to make a difference to the man beside her now – his arms engulfing her in a hug, strong and consoling. Angel’s body held no life, no circulation, and yet his arms were warm and safe, and she found herself burying in deeper.
She laughed a little at how ridiculous it was – crying over a little music. But this felt nice, to have him here, a man’s embrace, warm in its sentiment rather than its hold. Cordy pressed her cheek into his shoulder, her nose colliding softly with his chin.
“You okay?” Angel murmured, his hand lightly stroking her jaw, the other curling around her waist.
“Hmm…” She managed, snuggling into his arms as he tightened his hold on her, her hands climbing the broad expanse of his back. “This was all just a ploy to get you to be more touchy-feely.”
She felt his grin more than saw it. “I’m all for it.”
“I bet you are.” Her voice was teasing, hitched when he ran a hand down her arm, intertwining their fingers. “Angel – ”
“Will you dance with me?”
Cordy blinked at him. “You don’t dance.”
“True.” Angel straightened as she pulled back to look at him, the arm around her waist bringing her into his body as the song started up again, replaying on the record. “But I want to dance with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
See the west wind move like a lover so, upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth among the fields of gold
Her heart jumped into her throat, her stomach turning a cartwheel as Angel guided her hand onto his shoulder, the coat in her arms dropping heavily to the ground. Breeze swirled between them, trapped when he pulled her closer, moulded her body with his as the darkness around them melted into fields of gold.
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left, we’ll walk in fields of gold
Cordy’s eyes slid shut, her mouth fusing to his as he kissed her, his lips soft, pliant. Angel’s mouth was gentle, his kisses deep, dark as the midnight around them, and still she only saw light, inside and around her, seeping through her pores and veins and passing from her fingers into his. She felt herself falling but he was there – he was always there – his arms around her as he moved his feet, slowly, gracefully, leading her in a dance.
When he released her mouth he dropped his forehead, pressing it against hers and simply swaying, his fingers curled around hers delicately, preciously, unwilling to break contact. Happiness burst from inside her, the moment creating a memory of its own, unforgettable in every possible way.
Before, she’d associated the warmth of a man’s embrace with the light, the gold. Yet here she stood, surrounded and enveloped by darkness, in the arms of a man who dwelled in it – as warm as the day she’d danced beneath rays of sunshine, and walked in fields of gold.
You’ll remember me, when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky when we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold