Unread Letter Found In A 14th Century Manuscript
by Jennifer-Oksana


I'm sure by now you know about me and the One Last Day. Angel's big with the holding back of his feelings, but I know he's not THAT big. And if he is? Well, that's why I wrote you this letter. Partially why.

Actually, I don't know why I'm writing this, but I felt like I had to tell someone a few last things, and you'll read this for everyone eventually, or at least part of it. I know you, Wes. I can kind of see you, wiping away a tear or two when no one's there to see you (because the emotional blubberbaby went out with the Angel's faithful servant gig. Have I mentioned you are so much more the hotness now? I can see why Lilah fell for you, and why Fred's going to get it one day soon and do EXACTLY the same thing. Just warning you!) and smiling because hey, I'm Cordy Chase, and I was a true tragic heroine, the kind they talked about in English class when I was telling Harmony about how I totally wanted to make out with you because you were such the hot.

But hey, key word HEROINE and not tragic, so, you know, don't cry too many tears. I got my day with the sword and the being fabulous and not the victim and that's how I want to be remembered.

Because that's who I am. That's who I'm always gonna be.

And...okay, gonna sound nosey and pushy and invasive of me, but again, Cordelia Chase. It's okay that you loved her, Wes. And you did. And she loved you. And if you want it to work with Fred and that's what I'm rooting for in the long term, you can't pretend that you didn't, it was just a tragic mistake capped with an unfortunate accident. You loved her. You're going to have to deal with it, and Fred is, too, or you're not gonna get anywhere and given that this is the third time? You're so gonna have to give it up or you'll be a bigger pathetic stalker than Angel OR Spike over Buffy, and that's just sad.

Yeah, I'm thinking about it, too. "Kiss me!" "Bite me!" I'm going to miss you so much...

Anyway, wacky romantic advice out of the way. Wes, I'm sorry. Not about what crazy higher being did with my body so much, but I'm sorry that I wasn't there, Wes. For you and for Angel especially (not that you have to share that part, because I loved Fred and Gunn and Lorne, too, but it wasn't the same) because we're family. Note the "are" as in present tense. Death being less the end and more a different path to follow, but again, you with the knowing that. We are family, and for a day, I had all my sisters with me...

(Wes, please try to find out what Angel did. I tried to help Angel, but I can't save him from that. Please, Wes. I'm counting on you.)

Watch out for Angel for me. I almost told him, I mean, I kind of did tell him that I was in love with him. You knew that. I'm glad you know. That was never a lie, no matter what evil demon spawn possessing creature said. He was my other best friend, and he was my guy. The guy who's going to save the world someday, the guy who cares so much that he gets stupid because he can't stop. Angel's trying, Wes, but you can't be saved by a lie. And you know Angel. Never the best decision maker when it gets hot and heavy, or, He Slept With Darla and EVE, for fuck's sake. Eve, the sad, sad, pathetic imitation of the only evil lawyer I ever had respect for, because Lindsey?

No. Come ON, he's tiny. And just kind of a punk ass. And he, too, slept with EVE. Why, I do not know. Though...

Hey, sorry to keep going back to this during My Final Dramatic Monologue, Wes, but hey, you actually banged Lilah, whereas Lindsey and Angel settled for the sad imitation, and she completely approved. Go, my dorky sex god friend, go! And never, never, never sleep with Eve. Because then I will have to disown you, sex god pimp or not.

Anyway. I have to go save the world with Angel now one last time and....well, you know. One day's never long enough for goodbyes when they're last goodbyes, Wes. And I don't believe in goodbye anyway. Not knowing what I know about death.

I love you. I love all of you, but you, specifically, Wes. Love love love. I want you to know that. We're family, and nothing changes that. Not even dying.

And that's it, I guess. Marry Fred, live happily ever after. Don't wear pleated pants. Keep Angel on the straight and narrow. I love you.

Gotta go.



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