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Chapter Text

March 1986

Contrary to popular opinion, Cordelia and Michael can talk to each other without an instance of attempted murder. You can't raise a gaggle of states together without some collaboration.

Still, it's not often they do something like getting coffee together without one of their siblings acting as a buffer, but drastic times call for drastic measures.

"They keep trying to set me up with people," Michael complains, gesturing wildly.

Cordelia sets her hot chocolate down. "I know! Cass keeps saying that I'm 'love-starved.' She tried to get me and David to go on a date. Like. Do you know how much fun that was to explain to him? We broke up like, fifteen years ago."

Michael snorts and Cordelia glares at him.

Cordelia takes a sip of her hot chocolate, frowning when she notices the marshmallows have all melted. "Who'd they try to set you up with?"

"Nora. And then Sebastian." Michael frowns at his coffee. "Sebastian isn't even my type."

Cordelia pretends she doesn't know exactly what Michael's type of guy is so that she can give him a confused look and say: "But I thought your type was hockey players?"

Michael throws a sugar packet at her rather than dignify that with a response.

"They- probably, Cass, actually- tried to set me up with Helena. I wouldn't get in the middle of the Helena-Kit-Tyler mess, for my entire state debt. Seriously, Helena's great. But. No." Cordelia continues after a moment of silence.

"Ugh." Michael makes a face. "Why are Cass and Riley so focused on this right now?"

Cordelia sighs. "They're both so stubborn and you know that now that they've got it in their heads that we're lonely they'll never drop it."

They're both quiet.

"What if we were already dating someone?" Michael says.

"Don't know if you've noticed, but currently the only people who seem interested in dating me are frat boys, and that's not so much wanting to date me as wanting to f-"

"We could date each other. Pretend. We could pretend to date." Michael rushes to clarify as Cordelia's eyebrows shoot up. "It would get them off our backs without having to deal with a relationship, and then we could just fake a breakup."

Cordelia bites her lip as she thought it over. "And after our dramatic breakup, we could just say we weren't ready for another relationship yet and that could last us the next half-century, at least."

Michael smiles. "Exactly. So, deal?"

Cordelia grins back, reaching over to shake the hand Michael stuck out. "Deal."

Chapter Text

April 1986

They meet during the intermission of the next state of the union meeting in one of the hallways.

Not the main one- that one would look too planned. One of the lesser-used ones, though it was obvious at least one state would come that way.

If he didn't know better, Michael would say Cordelia looked nervous. "You think this is gonna work?"

The trace of nervousness is wiped off her face as she huffs. "Absolutely."

Michael hesitates a moment longer. "Are you sure about this?"

Cordelia huffs, pushing her hair over her shoulder. "Yes." She pulls at the collar of her blouse to expose the spot where her neck and shoulder meet. "Just do it already."

><><><><

Mindy's jaw drops, hand coming up over her mouth as she turns tail and hurries away.

She runs right into Ty at the entrance and grabs his arm. "Don't go that way."

Ty looks at her oddly. "Why?"

"Did you know about Cordelia and Michael?"

"Know what?"

"About whatever's going on between them?"

"What, did they have another fight? Man, they always get really pissy after they fight and then they take it out on everyone. Was it about the Toledo Strip again? 'Cause Al said they needed to get over that already-"

"No, about them being together- or- or whatever they are."

Ty freezes in the middle of a sentence. "What? Okay, who the hell spread that around? They're both going to be soo mad."

"No one spread it around. But considering the fact that they're all over each other back there, someone will."

Ty fixes her with a blank look. "Alright, who put you up to this."

"If you don't believe me, then come on."

><><><><

Ty paces back and forth. "I feel like my entire childhood was a lie."

Mindy rolls her eyes.

"But they hate each other? Right? Right?"

"I think you should sit down before we find out if states can have heart attacks."

"Right. Right. That's a good idea, Minnie."

There's the sound of approaching footsteps, and then Cass is appearing, practically dragging Riley along.

Ty brightens at the thought of knowing something his siblings don't, and he calls out for them.

><><><><

"WHAT?"

Cordelia smiles at Michael. "I'd say Cass just found out."

Michael tips his head back and laughs.

><><><><

By the time the meeting is called to order, the entire country knows.

Michael suppresses a grin at the curious looks he's getting, and can only imagine the incredulous stares Cordelia's getting, what with the half-visible hickey on her neck.

><><><><

Cass corners them after the meeting, practically vibrating with glee. "No wonder you guys kept blowing off our attempts to set you up! You were already dating each other!"

July 1986

Michael kind of forgets about their deal until July rolls around and Cordelia calls him.

"So what are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

Cordelia sighs. "It's July. Family get-together? We're 'dating'. If we mess up, everyone knows?" The air quotes around dating are practically audible.

For some reason, that annoys him. "It'll be fine, Cordelia. I'm gonna go now, okay?"

He doesn't give her a chance to argue before he hangs up.

><><><><

"So, are we sleeping in my room or yours?" Michael asks as soon he sees Cordelia. Of course, she'd gotten here before him.

Cordelia blinks at him.

Michael sighs. "We're 'dating', and everyone probably thinks we're sleeping together."

"Um. Whichever is fine, I guess." Cordelia responds, sounding a little shaken.

Michael can't remember when he last cleaned his room. Cordelia, on the other hand, was generally a pretty organized person. "Yours, then."

Cordelia nods absently, letting him follow her as she heads up to her room.

Michael actually likes Cordelia's room.

She'd paid Sera to paint an intricate mural of the sky a few decades back, beginning with a sunrise on the right side of her door and ending with a sunset on the left side. The colors shift so gradually it's imperceivable until you look from one side to the other and notice they're completely different colors.

Liking her room doesn't make setting his duffel bag down any less awkward.

><><><><

It's not as weird as it could be, Cordelia thinks. Sure, they're standing a little closer than normal, and Michael puts his hand on the same of her back every so often, but it's not entirely out of the norm.

But they've always been in the same circles. They were children together, and then they had raised other children together. They had weathered wars beside each other. They'd slept together a dozen times through the years, in both senses of the word.

The awkwardness fades over the course of the day, but it resurfaces that night.

><><><><

Cordelia's listened to Michael toss and turn on the couch for thirty minutes before she sighs.

"Michael, I told you you were too tall for the couch. Just," she sighs again. "Just come here. It isn't like we-" haven't done this before.

She breaks herself off, even though it's true.

It takes a moment before Michael gets up, and he hesitates before laying down on the bed, putting his back to her.

There are a solid six inches between them. Cordelia is still acutely aware of his presence.

><><><><

It's almost comforting to sleep next to someone, although Michael would rather bite off his own tongue than even imply that he enjoyed sharing a bed with Cordelia.

Nothing's gone wrong yet, and Michael is just starting to believe nothing will when Murphy's Law kicks in on the third night, when Cordelia wakes him up by lurching up into a sitting position halfway through the night.

He watches her in the dim light of the solar system mobile above the bed as she pulls her knees up to her chest and stares blankly at the wall.

"Nightmare?" He asks softly.

Cordelia takes a while to answer. She rubs at the scars on her thigh and her shoulders relax the slightest bit. "Yes."

Michael only knows a few things that would shake her this badly. One of them was however she'd gotten the injury that required regenerating everything from just above her left knee down.

She'd gotten it sometime during the second world war, he guessed, because it hadn't been there is 1923 but was in 1967.

Michael makes a general rule to let Cordelia work out her own problems, but he figures he owes her this after all the migraine-induced kindnesses throughout the years. "Come here?"

It comes out more questioning than he intends it to, but Cordelia shifts over enough for him to pull her back down and tuck her into his side anyway.

Michael always manages to forget how short Cordelia is in comparison to him, but it's hard to with Cordelia's head pressed to his collarbone.

><><><><

"So, I guess I'll see you around?" Michael says the day they leave to go back home, shifting to dig his car keys out of his pocket.

Cordelia clears her throat and tilts her head meaningfully to where Mindy and Tyler are trying to watch them without being noticed. She rises up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and Michael leans down to let her.

Except he misjudges the angle and what was meant to be a kiss on the cheek lands square on his mouth.

Cordelia pulls away, looking a little flushed. "Um. Yeah. I'll see you around." She turns away, heading back towards the house.

Michael watches her for a moment before shaking his head and climbing into his car.

He thumps his head against the steering wheel, painfully aware of the way Cordelia's lip gloss tastes. 

August 1986

Michael shows up ten minutes late to their family lunch in August, and Cordelia doesn't even hesitate before sliding further into the booth so he can sit beside her.

It's normal. He still steals food off her plate, except now Cordelia doesn't attempt to stab him with her fork, just steals french fries from him.

Cass sighs. "Couldn't you have gotten together I don't know... a year ago?"

Michael raises his eyebrows as Riley elbows her in the side.

"You had a bet on us," Cordelia states.

Mindy suddenly became very interested in the syrup container. "...we all figured you would hook up at some point. Ty won. I put fifty on 1999-2000."

Michael glances at the others, who also avoid his gaze. "So the rest of you betted on earlier?"

"Later." Cass looks very close to being pouty. "Except Oliver, who said 1975."

He looks at Cordelia. "Well, you're all wrong." He tells them and Cordelia's eyes widen.

"What?" Cass breaks the confused silence. "What does that mean?"

Cordelia stared at Michael a few heartbeats longer before looking at their siblings. "We hooked up back in the 1830s."

They didn't talk about how he and Cordelia had spent the summer of 1833 wrapped up in each other only for her to get back together with Will at the end of it. There was a silent agreement between them that they did not talk about how Michael lost his virginity to Cordelia. They barely even admitted that it happened to each other, even during the few times they had hooked up in the near-century since then.

Oliver chokes on a piece of pancake, and Tyler smacks his back.

"I call bullshit," Mindy announces. "You were dating Will."

"It was after they broke up and before they got back together," Michael mutters.

He glances at Cordelia and catches the mischief in her eyes a second before she says "And then there was 1897."

The table dissolves into chaos and Michael looks at Cordelia and raises his eyebrows like really?

Cordelia shrugs smugly. It's terrifying that they know each other well enough to read each other so easily.

Michael makes a show out of thinking back while Cordelia suppresses a smile. "There was 1923 and 1967, too."

Mindy sets her head on the table. 

October 1986

"Your boyfriend's looking for you," Tim shouts over the music.

If she had fewer drinks in her, Cordelia would maybe be a bit more concerned about how she doesn't even hesitate before she starts looking for Michael.

It doesn't take long. He's tall enough that he's spotted easily.

Tim rolls his eyes at her. "I'm going to go check on Kendall."

><><><><

"Cass, that is one of the nastiest things I've ever put in my mouth," Michael says after he stops coughing. It was a mistake to drink anything Cass handed you. "What the hell was that?"

"It was a rum and coke, but without the coke and a lot more vodka."

"Rum and cokes aren't supposed to have vodka at all."

Cass waves her hand dismissively. Riley shrugs at him like it's your own fault for drinking it.

"I regret both of you right now," Michael tells them. "Cordelia here yet?"

Cass wrinkles her nose up at him. "Cordelia's been here for hours."

"Her and Kendall were doing shots together earlier. She's probably still over with him and Tim." Riley offers helpfully.

It doesn't take long for him to find Cordelia, or rather, for her to find him.

They talk about the gremlins they call siblings, Cordelia's degree in progress, the engineering job Michael's working.

Then the music changes and Cordelia cuts herself off.

"I'm going to kill him," She bites out before spinning on her heel. "Top Gun, really?"

Bemused, Michael follows her.

By the time he catches up, Cordelia is already bickering with David. Helena's feet are in David's lap and Nate sitting on the arm of the couch, and Michael realizes they match Cordelia- leather flight jackets and aviator caps and goggles pushed up. 

There's an easiness to the way they interact, not quite the same as the way Cordelia acts with the other Great Lakes states, but a familiarity. 

For a while, during the world wars, they were Cordelia's family too. When they were all scattered throughout the trenches, Cordelia and Helena and David and Nate had been together. 

"You should ask her to dance," Nate says. "It's a good song for dancing." 

He leans over and whispers something to Helena, and next thing Michael knows Cordelia's shoved at him. 

Michael narrows his eyes at Nate and Helena. They both smile encouragingly. Michael rolls his eyes. 

"Do you want to dance?"

"You should very enthusiastic about it." Cordelia is half-smiling the way she does when she wants to be annoyed but can't be. 

David kicks her shin and makes some kind of gesture. Cordelia flips him off. "Fine. Let's go dance."

><><><><

Michael isn't emotionally stunted, so of course, he recognizes the beginnings of a crush.

Because Cordelia laughs the second time he nearly steps on her foot, and all Michael can think is fuck, I like her.

December 1986

Michael usually doesn't mind Christmas shopping, but Mindy is hell to shop for. 

Every single year, he thought he had an idea of what to get her, and every year he ended up being wrong. 

The jewelry shop is the last stop of the day, and he's fully prepared to leave another store empty-handed. Mindy has a charm bracelet, but he's pretty sure it's an antique and they don't sell charms for it anymore, and that it might not have room for charms anyway. 

Michael's just turning away from the display case of charms and bracelets when something catches his eye.

><><><><

He doesn't think about it until after he gets home.

Him and Cordelia had agreed a very long time ago that they would buy gifts for their siblings, but not for each other. There had been a series of gag gifts that ended up with Alfred yelling at both of them for the astounding lack of maturity, and they were better off not trying to find inventive ways to piss each other off.

So what the hell was he thinking, buying this?

><><><><

He ends up getting Mindy a new skate bag in her favorite shade of purple, and it gets wrapped up and stacked up with the other gifts he's taking down to Alfred's. Nora's present gets put in the mail.

Michael can't get Cordelia's present right.

By the day he's actually supposed to drive down, he's forgotten how many times he's rewrapped her present. 

Today, it isn't wrapped, just tied with a pale blue ribbon.

Michael sighs and tucks it into his pocket.

><><><><

"My room or yours?" Cordelia picks up a stack of presents out of his trunk, waiting for Michael to shut it so they can walk together. 

The jewelry box in his pocket is a lead weight. Michael wonders (not for the first time) if he should just chuck it into the trash. 

Michael sighs. "My room, I guess."

It's stupid to get invested in a fake relationship, Michael reminds himself. Sooner rather than later this is going to be over, and they'll go back to how it was before. Fighting and then hooking up when they're bored or lonely. 

><><><><

Cordelia is clingy when she sleeps. Always has been. It's good in the trenches when they're huddling for warmth, and bad when crushes are involved.

Cordelia's head is on his chest, one leg hooked around his, and Michael is thinking about the bracelet. 

Michael isn't a little kid anymore. He should be better than crushing on Cordelia. He's been there before, and he should know better. 

><><><><

There are shouts from throughout the house, and Cordelia smiles as Michael groans.

"Merry Christmas." She tells him, wiggling out of his arms.

"Merry Christmas," he mumbles back. 

><><><><

Michael tugs Cordelia away from their siblings and out into the hall.

She looks at him oddly, no doubt wondering what the hell he's doing. Michael's wondering the same thing. 

Michael exhales shakily, reaching into his pocket and offering her the little box that had caused him so much trouble since he'd bought it on a whim.

Cordelia gives him another confused look before she unties the ribbon.

Michael looks away, only looking back at her when Cordelia inhales sharply in surprise.

"It's so pretty." She breathes.

Michael lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. She likes it. "Do you want me to fasten it?"

Cordelia smiles, showing her dimples. "Yes."

He takes the bracelet out of the box, slipping it around the wrist she holds out.

It takes three tries to fasten the clasp because his hands are shaking. 

He'd seen it in the store when he was looking for Mindy's present, and he'd remembered laying in Cordelia's bed, her solar system mobile spinning above him with Cordelia asleep against his shoulder. And he'd seen the bracelet, with the phases of the moon, and he'd bought it without thinking.

He finally fastens the bracelet and dares to look at Cordelia.

She smiles at him.

Michael smiles back.

And Cordelia rises up on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek.

Michael is frozen. 

"Thank you." She says, and goes back to the other states.

Chapter Text

January 1987

Michael comes home on his statehood anniversary to find Cordelia sitting on his front steps, a box and something wrapped in red paper balanced on her knees. 

She smiles. "Happy Birthday."

Michael smiles back. He's not really sure why Cordelia's here, but he won't question it right now. "You now, you could have waited inside. It's snowing."

He pointedly glances at Cordelia's leggings, which can't be very warm. She's wearing a sweater and a jacket at least, but she picked wearing some kind of overall-dress thing over wearing actual pants, which is why she was not the one getting the kids dressed to go out into the snow all those years ago.

Cordelia shrugs. The leg warmers tucked into her boots have little baseballs on them, and Michael's trying very hard not to be charmed by them, how very obviously Cordelia they are. "A little snow won't kill me. Plus, I actually don't know where you keep your key now."

Michael pauses where he was about to unlock the door before continuing the motion. "Cass used them a few too many times. I, uh, I keep them in the flowerpot now. Under the red flower."

Michael steps aside to let her go in, stopping by the door to hang up his jacket and watching Cordelia set the packages on the table. 

Michael nods towards it. "What's that?"

Cordelia shrugs off her coat, hanging it beside his. "The white box is this cream puff from this place in Columbus-" Michael opens it as she talks.

And stares. "Cordelia."

"Yes?"

"That's not a cream puff. That's a heart attack in a takeaway box."

Cordelia looks almost affronted. "We don't get heart attacks."

"Yeah, of course, you'd know that firsthand if you eat this on any kind of basis. It's half the size of your head. Sometimes I wonder how you aren't dead yet from the amount of sugar and caffeine you eat."

Cordelia huffs. "Fine. I'll just take it and go, if it's so unhealthy."

She reaches for the box and Michael bats her hands away. "Nope. No take-backs."

Cordelia gives him a glare that clearly translates to something very rude.

Michael grins.

She rolls her eyes and smiles back. "You should open the present."

Michael always feels awkward unwrapping presents in front of people, and Cordelia must know this because she disappears into the kitchen to get plates rather than watch him unwrap it. 

There's a Tupperware container of buckeyes that Michael sets aside and a smaller bundle underneath wrapped up in white cloth. 

It's a windchime, made of sea-glass and Petoskey stones and Isle Royale Greenstone. 

><><><><

Cordelia knows Michael's weird about presents, so she makes her way to the kitchen, pulling out plates and forks, gets the lighter out of the junk drawer before she comes back. 

"Did you make this?" Michael asks, wonder clear in his eyes. 

It wasn't even that nice, honestly. She'd just dug through the interesting rocks she had. The Greenstone was uncut and polished so it was barely recognizable.

Cordelia shrugs, setting the plates down. "Yeah. It's not much, but-"

She'd wanted to give him something that meant something. Like her bracelet meant something. 

Michael smiles at her. "Thank you."

Cordelia can tell the exact moment when he notices the number candles she's pulled out of her purse. 

Michael groans. "Cordelia, no."

"It's your birthday!" She chimes cheerfully. Michael puts his head in his hands. 

"You're awful," He complains, like a) he's surprised by this and b) means it. 

Cordelia finishes sticking the candles in the cream puff and turns it so it's in front of Michael before lighting it. 

"You have to blow them out before the wax drips." 

Michael sighs long-sufferingly before he blows the candles out. Cordelia makes a mental note to get trick candles someday. 

"Happy 150th Birthday." She tells him. He can say what he wants, but this is an important birthday. 

Michael rolls his eyes. "How long are you staying?"

Cordelia shrugs. "I wasn't planning on staying the night or anything. I was going to drive back tonight and then just sleep tomorrow."

"You have classes tomorrow, right?"

"No, I don't have anything until Thursday."

"You could stay the night. I mean, if you wanted to." Michael seems surprised by the words, even as he blurts them out. 

Cordelia raises her eyebrows. "....Okay, I guess?"

><><><><

It shouldn't feel like a big deal. Cordelia's slept over more times than Michael can remember. 

They didn't even sleep in the same bed. Cordelia slept in the guestroom. 

But Michael can't remember if he ever asked Cordelia to stay over. 

It's oddly intimate to wake up to Cordelia already awake and making breakfast. 

Michael kind of wants her to stick around a bit longer. 

So he convinces her to get lunch with him. Uses paperwork as an excuse. 

Michael leads Cordelia through a whirlwind tour of the Detriot food scene. (Though they did go outside of Detriot for paczkis, because he was pretty sure Cordelia would love them.)

Afterward, they sit in Michael's living room, watching The Black Cauldron because they couldn't agree on anything that wasn't Disney, the coffee table covered in food bags.

Michael is trying very hard not to focus on the way Cordelia's calf is pressed against his own.

Originally, he'd just meant to get pizza, and then he'd thought about Boston Coolers, and then baklava from Greektown. By that point, it was a food tour and Michael decided it was go big or go home.

And so far, it had gone exceptionally well. (Except for when he kind of insulted Ohio-style pizza, which was a mistake because states are loyal to their pizzas, but really. It was a disgrace to regional pizzas.)

"Why's it called a Boston Cooler?" Cordelia asks, providing a distraction.

"Because-" Michael stops. "You know, I don't actually know."

"I'll have to get you to try Cleveland-style barbecue sometime."

Michael glances over at Cordelia. She's looking at him with thoughtful green eyes, and damn, he wants to kiss her. 

"What?"

She nods at the paczkis on the table. "I'm trying to decide where we ought to go for my food scene tour."

Which means she had liked spending time with him enough that she wanted to do it again. Michael nearly grins at the thought. "As long as we get to get pierogies in... what city is it that does the really good ones, again?"

Cordelia looks both pleased and startled at the fact he even remembered she had a city that did good pierogies. "Parma."

"Right. Well, if you do your pierogies, I'll have to take you to Mackinac Island. Amazing fudge."

The fact that they're basically planning kind-of dates doesn't escape either of their notice.

"Jack Frost donuts is a must then." Michael opened his mouth only to be cut off when Cordelia continued. "And Polish Boys."

"...the thing with the french fries, right?"

"Yep."

Michael nods, and then does something very stupid.

"Do you want to come to the Cherry Festival with me?"

Cordelia goes still.

Oh, fuck, Michael thinks, I just asked her on a date. Like. A real date, not just hanging out. 

She smiles. "I'd like that."

March 1987

Michael sends her a scarf in the mail for her birthday. 

It's nice, soft, and patterned with little cardinals. 

It's something that Cordelia would have picked out herself.

And that's probably when Cordelia accepts that she might have caught some feelings. 

July 1987

July rolls around again, and it doesn't feel real that they've been pretending for over a year now. 

Michael sleeps in Cordelia's room with her again, and Cordelia remembers why it's a bad idea to get too invested in a fake relationship. 

Cordelia wakes up to one of Michael's hands on her stomach where her shirt had ridden up, his legs tangled with hers, his face nuzzled against her neck, and she has to close her eyes and will away the affection she feels. 

After managing to slip out of his grip, she takes a shower, puts on her favorite pair of shorts and a t-shirt that was just the right amount of worn. When she goes back in her room to retrieve her hairbrush, she stops dead in her tracks to take in the simultaneously adorable and sexy sight that is Michael in the morning.

See, Cordelia knew Michael slept without a shirt. But she'd never cared before. It was hard to care when she didn't sleep in anything but a shirt half the time, and it wasn't like it was anything she hadn't seen before. 

Maybe, she decides, she should have paid a bit more attention to him in the morning. Michael's dirty-blonde curls are a sleep-tangled, ruffled mess, and there's nothing but the low-slung waistband of his pajama pants and the odd scar or fifteen interrupting tanned skin. Working as a mechanic and frequent games of hockey have left him with a build that the frat boys who hit on her wished they had. 

The realization, when it comes, is like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head: He's beautiful, and she loves him.

><><><><

The thing about Cordelia is that she's always been a constant in his life, ever since Matthew handed him over to Alfred without a fight. 

So of course, of fucking course, when they're getting along better than they have in decades, Michael has to ruin it by digging up feelings he should have left buried in 1833. 

There's a reason they don't talk about that summer and it's simple: Cordelia, in the end, didn't pick Michael. There's plenty of reasons why it's a bad idea to fall in love with Cordelia, and that's up near the top. 

But he'd done it anyway. 

><><><><

Cordelia finds him wrapped up in his comforter in the middle of his bed not even thirty minutes after he'd left the impromptu pool party the other states were throwing in the backyard. 

"Migraine?" Cordelia asks softly.

It's easier to say yes than to say no, I'm having a mental breakdown over the fact that I'm in love with you, so Michael just signs the affirmative at her.

Cordelia slides her hands into his hair, nails scritching gently against his scalp. "Do you want me to go or stay?"

"Stay," Michael mumbles. It isn't unusual for him to ask someone to stay, to ask Cordelia even to stay, so Cordelia won't think anything of it. He shifts a little to let Cordelia slip into the bed beside him.

It's selfish, but Michael tucks his head against her neck.

Cordelia doesn't actually smell like much of anything. She never does, because at some point, she'd developed a vendetta against perfumes. It's comforting and familiar. Cordelia's been using the same body wash for the past twenty years, the one that has a subtle vanilla-y scent, and there's always the same clean scent that's the same it smells after it rains.

(It took him years to figure out it was ozone, that it was just part of her being Ohio, the same way the smell of pine trees and apples clung to Mindy.)

Even though half of his brain is shouting that he's taking advantage of Cordelia's kindness by letting her think he has a migraine, Micheal still melts against her.

><><><><

"Do you still want to come to the cherry festival?" Michael asks her when she's packing to head back to Columbus. 

Cordelia had forgotten all about it, honestly. January felt so long ago, even in the context of her long life. 

She barely even has to think about her answer. "I'd love to."

><><><><

Cordelia's jittery on the drive up. She keeps checking her hair and her makeup in her mirrors. 

It may sound vain, but Cordelia's never worried about her looks before. She knew exactly what she had to offer, and usually, she didn't have to put much effort into any sort of romantic endeavor. 

But it's different, with Michael. He's seen her at some of the worst parts of her life. Hell, he'd sat with her and cleaned the blood off her face after that battle in 1864, then held her while she sobbed. 

There's a lot of history there. It's entirely possible that even if they did date, it would crash and burn. 

><><><><

The cherry festival is one of Michael's favorite events, and he goes to it every year he can. He's taken Mindy with him a few times and Tyler once, but he's never invited Cordelia. 

It seems like a good day for taking chances, so he does. "Is this a date?"

Cordelia stops walking and turns to look at him. "It's- Do you want it to be?"

"Yes," Michael answers honestly, and that seems to throw Cordelia off a little. 

"Oh," is all Cordelia says for a few minutes. "We should break up."

Michael actually takes a step back. "What?"

"I'd rather have a real relationship than a fake one." Cordelia elaborates, and Michael can't tell if he's being rejected or not. 

Cordelia kisses him.

Michael blinks slowly when she pulls away, still confused but hopeful. "Wait a second- did you turn me down or not?"

Cordelia shoves his shoulder softly. "Of course I didn't reject you." She sort of mumbles the rest of her sentence, and Michael grins. 

"Sorry, what was that?"

Cordelia sighs long-sufferingly like she's just realized what she's gotten herself into. "I lo- like you too, okay?"

Michael picks her up and spins her around, and Cordelia laughs. 

It feels right when he kisses her. "I like you, too." He blurts out when he breaks the kiss, feeling bizarrely like a high school kid.  

Cordelia's still smiling when they kiss for the third time. 

Chapter Text

Michael turns away from the sunlight coming in through the window, stretching his arm across the bed so he can pull Cordelia closer. 

He opens his eyes when his fingers meet empty sheets instead of bare skin. 

Michael sits up, more than a little worried Cordelia's left. Which would sort of suck. 

Instead, he finds her making omelets in the kitchen. She'd clearly raided his closet because she's wearing his White Stripes shirt. It hangs off one shoulder and falls to her mid-thigh, and it should look ridiculous but Michael already knows he's never asking for that shirt back. 

Cordelia leans back into his chest when he wraps his arms around her, and Michael nuzzles her neck, pushing her hair off her shoulder so he can kiss the mole on her collarbone. 

"I was going to make you breakfast. Had plans, you know?" He mumbles. 

Cordelia hums. "Guess you shouldn't have slept in then," she replies.

Michael nips her neck and Cordelia pinches him in return. 

"So we're never telling Cass that we faked being a couple, right?"

"We're definitely never telling her."