who. dean and cordelia what. date night! when. the night of the water park thread. where. around cleveland locked to. dean status. complete!
The night had started out with so much potential. Dean had called after his shift at the Doublemeat Palace (Cordelia tried to ignore the fact he was working with none other than Buffy Killjoy Summers), and had asked if she felt up to going on a date. "A real date," he'd said in that half-chuckle that made her feel like a teenager with a case of butterflies in the stomach all over again. "Are you saying our other ones haven't been real? I'm offended." Only teasing, Cordelia was almost sure that Dean could hear her smile through the phone. Apparently, he wanted to take her to a restaurant that didn't have the phrase "All You Can Eat" tagged before it. Dean might have been a ladies man, but it had been clear from the start that Cordelia wouldn't be getting the traditional flowers and chocolates, and that was just fine with her. Those things just didn't seem all that important anymore. What he lacked in finesse, Dean made up for by genuinely caring. "I'll see you at eight then."
Everything had started splendidly. Eight rolled around, and when Cordelia heard the familiar purring of the Impala's engine, a warm smile bloomed across the line of her lips. "Going out, Angel," Cordelia called over her shoulder as she made her way out the door. She made a mental note to introduce Dean and Angel soon. It wasn't that she was avoiding the meeting. They'd get along, after all. Or they wouldn't. Of that much, Cordelia wasn't exactly sure of yet. Angel was extraordinarily protective of Cordelia, and it wasn't unlike him to give her boyfriends the list of twenty questions. She couldn't blame him. Not after her stellar history with men. At least Dean didn't seem to want to impregnate her with his demon spawn. That was always a plus in Cordelia's book.
The ride to the restaurant was filled with their usual conversation, a steady stream of Metallica and Boston playing in the background. This had become normal. Comfortable. Sinking back into the well worn leather seat, Cordelia raised an eyebrow in Dean's direction. "Do you own anything but old rock, Dean? We've been dating for over a month, and I haven't heard a single song come out of your CD player that wasn't written by a stoned man with a mullet. Next time, I vote we bring my CD's and let you listen to some real music." Cordelia was only half serious. Besides, Dean would probably enjoy Imogen Heap as much as she'd enjoy Led Zeppelin. They were complete opposites, but the seemed to compliment each other well. Both of them had to grow up too fast, and both of them were fiercely loyal to the ones they loved. Sam was to Dean as Angel and Wes were to Cordelia. Their entire worlds were balanced in the hands of these people.
Beyond anything else, both of them were just trying to do some good.
Of course, Cordelia had no idea that Dean was working for a company that had done all it could to destroy her and the people she loved most. That might have changed her opinion somewhat. If nothing else, it would have made her realize that Dean wasn't the knight she was pinning him to be.
Two hours later, Cordelia and Dean were staring at the Impala. Why? Because while they were in the restaurant, someone had hit Dean's precious car, destroying the entire front bumper and the front right wheel, leaving it unable to be driven. Tonight just wasn't Dean's night. Not an hour earlier, the waitress that had been serving them had been too busy ogling Dean to realize she was about to trip over Cordelia's purse. When she had tripped, the food and drinks had all managed to somehow find their way into Dean's lap, leaving him looking like a bad piece of abstract art. "Angel's apartment is just a mile or two away from here. We can call a tow truck from there." Why not use a cellphone? Well, Cordelia's had been on the table when an entire glass of water had fried it to oblivion, and Dean's had, of course, gone dead. "Come on," Cordelia said softly, taking Dean's hand in her own and pulling him away from the wreckage of his car. Really, she was surprised he didn't cry. That thing was his pride and joy.
Half way to the apartment, Cordelia just happened to look up in time to have a large drop of rain pelt against her forehead, making her blink. "What the-" Seconds later, the rain was falling in sheets thick enough to make it nearly impossible to see a few feet ahead. "Oh, no!" Wincing, Cordelia motioned down to her brand new (courtesy of Angel's credit card) stiletto heels. "There's no way I can run in these!" Cordelia had to nearly scream to make her voice heard over the claps of thunder and the constant falling of the rain.
"Did you do something to seriously piss the fates off?!"