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chickenFor: The Harmony Ficathon (cross-posted there).
Title: "Almost"
Setting: S2 Angel, during Disharmony
Pairing: Harmony/Cordelia
Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Beta: Thanks so much to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
viciouswishes!
Written for: Ari (wisdomeagle), who asked for shippy, or at least UST (Harm--> Cordy), and whose request for a line of song lyrics, poetry, or dialogue that should influence the story was, "I don't care what my teachers say/I'm gonna be a supermodel" (Jill Sobule's "Supermodel", featured in Clueless). She also requested nothing post S2 Angel. I hope I've fulfilled all that. :-)
In Paris she was going to be discovered. She would be having the time of her life, trying on the most faboo outfit in the cutest little boutique, when some model scout or fashion photographer would walk in and spot her. She, Harmony Kendall, would be adorned in the latest Prada, and like, all of a sudden everyone would adore her. She would be on the cover of some magazine, Cosmo or something, and they would take her seriously, and they would so swoon when she walked into the room. Especially Cordelia Chase.
Don't think about Cordelia!
But it was too late. She was back in L.A., Cordelia's warm leg pressed casually against her own cool one. She could still kind of see herself on the cover of a magazine, but it wasn't her usual fantasy. This time it was that old, way weird Vanity Fair with k.d. lang being shaved by Cindy Crawford, only she was Cindy and Cordelia was k.d. lang. It was super wrong. Cordelia was turning her head just slightly to look up at her, lush eyelashes fluttering seductively, cheeks warm and flushed, lips full and mega-red. Harmony held the razor firmly in her right hand and placed it against that lovely neck, right where the shaving cream ended. Right above her exposed jugular, with all that rich blood pumping so loudly and seductively just beneath the surface. It was totally pounding in her ears like the surf on warm sand, warm sunlit sand where Herb Ritts or whoever would like, never take her on a photo-shoot. Being a vampire sucked!
Maybe she could feel that sand between her toes if only she just came closer, a little eensy bit closer, to that lovely neck, to that smooth inviting expanse of warmth right next to her on the damn couch!
"Hey Harm, wanna hand me my purse?" Cordelia sprang up, and the stupid magazine cover completely faded away from her mind, but the sound of her best friend's pulse seemed just as close as ever.
Harmony was only a little bitty second away from jumping up and latching herself firmly to that neck, when she realized that Cordelia's towel had slipped when she stood up, revealing her in all her human glory. All her completely feminine glory, Harmony realized. The silly Cindy Crawford/k.d. lang Vanity Fair cover came rushing back into her mind. Damn, damn, damn! Stupid brain.
Her stupid brain made her weak, and her eyes swept all too easily over the curve of Cordelia's breasts, took in the perfect perkiness of her nipples, feasted on the obviousness of the heart beating just beneath --
"Harmony! My purse!" Cordelia retrieved her towel and took the purse, extended in Harmony's trembling hand. She tucked the towel neatly back in place and went to the door to get the pizza.
There was really nothing wrong with eating a little food. Spike taught her that. Vampires totally couldn't gain weight eating human food, and if it was spicy enough, it even tasted nice, especially if the sausage was kinda under-cooked. It made her sort of forget about k.d. lang, Cindy Crawford, and jugulars. Cordelia didn't even seem to notice her agitation, and they watched Leno and caught up on Sunnydale, cheerleaders, and that geek, Xander.
She was so not talking about Spike, though, especially after Cordelia got up to go to bed and revealed a bit of leg through the towel. It was funny happening again like that, but Harmony couldn't help noticing how firm and toned her ass was, how long and sleek her legs looked, how they totally drove away any thoughts of Spike. Her ears felt full of a certain non-vampiric heartbeat, her nostrils alive with a certain shower-fresh scent.
Harmony knew she sucked at the day-night thing. She just couldn't fall asleep for very long when it was dark. She dozed only a little, tossing and turning and thinking about all the ways Cordelia filled her senses. She dreamt of Paris, and of going shopping with Cordelia. They were in this itsy bitsy fitting room, standing pressed together in the total confinement, Cordelia's breath hot in her ear, her hand on Harmony's hip --
She woke with a start, her mind racing, her hand buried between her own legs, wishing she had breath to pant. Trying to sleep on the couch was such a bad idea, because it smelled like Cordelia. It smelled like Cordelia's shampoo, Cordelia's perfume, Cordelia's nail polish, and it was torturing her. She tried to think about Gucci, and Prada, and Manolo Blahnik, but instead all she could think about was the idea of Cordelia's hot pulse throbbing in her wrist, as that wrist brushed against Harmony's thighs, separating them, teasing them apart, lifting up her negligee. She tried to think about hating Spike, but instead all she could think about was some day feeling Cordelia's tongue traveling up her leg. She paced and paced and suddenly found herself in Cordelia's bedroom. She was so sure she hadn't opened the door. All she could think about was hot delicious Cordelia, with hot delicious blood in her veins, warm, succulent -- oh God! The door slammed behind her, and she was even more sure she hadn't done that.
"I swear I didn't do that," she insisted.
"Harmony?" Cordelia answered. She sounded pretty surprised. "I have a ghost."
There was a weird pause, and Cordelia sat up more in bed, taking in Harmony's ruffled appearance, the way her negligee rode up on her thighs, the way she cast her eyes about, desperate not to let them rest on Cordelia.
"What - What are you doing in my --" Cordelia was starting to freak out a little. Crap. What could she say?
"Nothing! I'm sorry. I thought I could control myself. I thought I could control these urges."
Cordelia so did not look comforted by that. Harmony couldn't stand it anymore, she had to say something.
"You have no idea how hard it is to stay away from you. I mean, seeing you there looking so -- so luscious."
Cordelia was all "Oh!" and then Harmony felt even worse.
"I should have told you. I was -- scared. Scared that if you found out what I was, you'd kill me." Or think I was ugly and deformed and a pervert she thought.
She was sure there was never a naughtier, more dirty-minded vampire slut, like, ever. She had to leave before she jumped Cordelia and started groping her luscious body, or worse yet, vamped out. She was glad vampires were invisible in mirrors because she was sure Cordelia wouldn't find facial ridges and sharp teeth sexy, even if she did manage to get over the whole lesbo thing. And she totally couldn't stand how Spike looked when he vamped out, so she was sure it made her ugly, too.
But then Cordelia was saying stuff about not being narrow-minded, and how she just wanted Harmony to be happy. So the magazine cover came back into Harmony's mind, only this time Cordelia was standing over her instead of the other way around, and it was just like that time in high school when they were rehearsing for Romeo and Juliet, only that weird guy who was playing Romeo was sick that day and Cordelia was standing in for him. Standing over Harmony, about to kiss her. And she would have, too, if that stupid Andrew kid hadn't unleashed all those flying monkeys.
Harmony went back to the couch holding on to the memory of that almost-kiss.
Title: "Almost"
Setting: S2 Angel, during Disharmony
Pairing: Harmony/Cordelia
Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Beta: Thanks so much to
viciouswishes!Written for: Ari (
wisdomeagle), who asked for shippy, or at least UST (Harm--> Cordy), and whose request for a line of song lyrics, poetry, or dialogue that should influence the story was, "I don't care what my teachers say/I'm gonna be a supermodel" (Jill Sobule's "Supermodel", featured in Clueless). She also requested nothing post S2 Angel. I hope I've fulfilled all that. :-)In Paris she was going to be discovered. She would be having the time of her life, trying on the most faboo outfit in the cutest little boutique, when some model scout or fashion photographer would walk in and spot her. She, Harmony Kendall, would be adorned in the latest Prada, and like, all of a sudden everyone would adore her. She would be on the cover of some magazine, Cosmo or something, and they would take her seriously, and they would so swoon when she walked into the room. Especially Cordelia Chase.
Don't think about Cordelia!
But it was too late. She was back in L.A., Cordelia's warm leg pressed casually against her own cool one. She could still kind of see herself on the cover of a magazine, but it wasn't her usual fantasy. This time it was that old, way weird Vanity Fair with k.d. lang being shaved by Cindy Crawford, only she was Cindy and Cordelia was k.d. lang. It was super wrong. Cordelia was turning her head just slightly to look up at her, lush eyelashes fluttering seductively, cheeks warm and flushed, lips full and mega-red. Harmony held the razor firmly in her right hand and placed it against that lovely neck, right where the shaving cream ended. Right above her exposed jugular, with all that rich blood pumping so loudly and seductively just beneath the surface. It was totally pounding in her ears like the surf on warm sand, warm sunlit sand where Herb Ritts or whoever would like, never take her on a photo-shoot. Being a vampire sucked!
Maybe she could feel that sand between her toes if only she just came closer, a little eensy bit closer, to that lovely neck, to that smooth inviting expanse of warmth right next to her on the damn couch!
"Hey Harm, wanna hand me my purse?" Cordelia sprang up, and the stupid magazine cover completely faded away from her mind, but the sound of her best friend's pulse seemed just as close as ever.
Harmony was only a little bitty second away from jumping up and latching herself firmly to that neck, when she realized that Cordelia's towel had slipped when she stood up, revealing her in all her human glory. All her completely feminine glory, Harmony realized. The silly Cindy Crawford/k.d. lang Vanity Fair cover came rushing back into her mind. Damn, damn, damn! Stupid brain.
Her stupid brain made her weak, and her eyes swept all too easily over the curve of Cordelia's breasts, took in the perfect perkiness of her nipples, feasted on the obviousness of the heart beating just beneath --
"Harmony! My purse!" Cordelia retrieved her towel and took the purse, extended in Harmony's trembling hand. She tucked the towel neatly back in place and went to the door to get the pizza.
There was really nothing wrong with eating a little food. Spike taught her that. Vampires totally couldn't gain weight eating human food, and if it was spicy enough, it even tasted nice, especially if the sausage was kinda under-cooked. It made her sort of forget about k.d. lang, Cindy Crawford, and jugulars. Cordelia didn't even seem to notice her agitation, and they watched Leno and caught up on Sunnydale, cheerleaders, and that geek, Xander.
She was so not talking about Spike, though, especially after Cordelia got up to go to bed and revealed a bit of leg through the towel. It was funny happening again like that, but Harmony couldn't help noticing how firm and toned her ass was, how long and sleek her legs looked, how they totally drove away any thoughts of Spike. Her ears felt full of a certain non-vampiric heartbeat, her nostrils alive with a certain shower-fresh scent.
Harmony knew she sucked at the day-night thing. She just couldn't fall asleep for very long when it was dark. She dozed only a little, tossing and turning and thinking about all the ways Cordelia filled her senses. She dreamt of Paris, and of going shopping with Cordelia. They were in this itsy bitsy fitting room, standing pressed together in the total confinement, Cordelia's breath hot in her ear, her hand on Harmony's hip --
She woke with a start, her mind racing, her hand buried between her own legs, wishing she had breath to pant. Trying to sleep on the couch was such a bad idea, because it smelled like Cordelia. It smelled like Cordelia's shampoo, Cordelia's perfume, Cordelia's nail polish, and it was torturing her. She tried to think about Gucci, and Prada, and Manolo Blahnik, but instead all she could think about was the idea of Cordelia's hot pulse throbbing in her wrist, as that wrist brushed against Harmony's thighs, separating them, teasing them apart, lifting up her negligee. She tried to think about hating Spike, but instead all she could think about was some day feeling Cordelia's tongue traveling up her leg. She paced and paced and suddenly found herself in Cordelia's bedroom. She was so sure she hadn't opened the door. All she could think about was hot delicious Cordelia, with hot delicious blood in her veins, warm, succulent -- oh God! The door slammed behind her, and she was even more sure she hadn't done that.
"I swear I didn't do that," she insisted.
"Harmony?" Cordelia answered. She sounded pretty surprised. "I have a ghost."
There was a weird pause, and Cordelia sat up more in bed, taking in Harmony's ruffled appearance, the way her negligee rode up on her thighs, the way she cast her eyes about, desperate not to let them rest on Cordelia.
"What - What are you doing in my --" Cordelia was starting to freak out a little. Crap. What could she say?
"Nothing! I'm sorry. I thought I could control myself. I thought I could control these urges."
Cordelia so did not look comforted by that. Harmony couldn't stand it anymore, she had to say something.
"You have no idea how hard it is to stay away from you. I mean, seeing you there looking so -- so luscious."
Cordelia was all "Oh!" and then Harmony felt even worse.
"I should have told you. I was -- scared. Scared that if you found out what I was, you'd kill me." Or think I was ugly and deformed and a pervert she thought.
She was sure there was never a naughtier, more dirty-minded vampire slut, like, ever. She had to leave before she jumped Cordelia and started groping her luscious body, or worse yet, vamped out. She was glad vampires were invisible in mirrors because she was sure Cordelia wouldn't find facial ridges and sharp teeth sexy, even if she did manage to get over the whole lesbo thing. And she totally couldn't stand how Spike looked when he vamped out, so she was sure it made her ugly, too.
But then Cordelia was saying stuff about not being narrow-minded, and how she just wanted Harmony to be happy. So the magazine cover came back into Harmony's mind, only this time Cordelia was standing over her instead of the other way around, and it was just like that time in high school when they were rehearsing for Romeo and Juliet, only that weird guy who was playing Romeo was sick that day and Cordelia was standing in for him. Standing over Harmony, about to kiss her. And she would have, too, if that stupid Andrew kid hadn't unleashed all those flying monkeys.
Harmony went back to the couch holding on to the memory of that almost-kiss.