TITLE: Beaver, Utah
AUTHOR: Ragna (WritingGoddess@aol.com; SpikeGrrl1@aol.com)
RATING: G
CLASSIFICATION: Xander POV, Xander/Anya
SUMMARY: Xander talks to the person sitting next to him on the Greyhound.
SPOILERS: Season 5, all the way.
DISTRIBUTION: Any sites with my fic up; you all have unspoken permission. I write it, you can post it. Everyone else just keep my name on it and let me know.
PREVIOUS PARTS/ARCHIVED AT: http://www.envy.nu/allthepain/index.html
DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kazui Sandollar, FOX and the WB own it or them. Various friends of mine are holding characters hostage. You may see them by appointment only.
FEEDBACK: Sorry I'm not home right now I'm walking in the spiderwebs so leave a message and I'll call you back...in other words, I want it. Don't care if it's onlist or not, but I prefer offlist since I have quite a few lists on No Mail.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Answer to Improv #24, topic being a character leaving.
DEDICATIONS: To Adam, who I miss so much right now. To Lar, for granting me challenge #24 on the Improv list. To the crew at YGTS, for being good friends (and especially Gileswench for the tweed hanky). To Spooky and Ogre, who got me headed home in one piece this morning.
~*~*~
The kid, who I guess couldn't be considered a kid because he looked just as old as me, had this thing for loud techno music. Normally, I wouldn't care. It's not my cup of tea, as Giles might say, but I have nothing against ravers like this guy.
Black baggy nylon pants, a black T-shirt with tagging across the front in red and white which until a few minutes ago was covered up by a blue hooded sweatshirt with gray stripes on the sleeves.
He'd been sleeping. He'd leaned on what looked like a normal stuffed animal, which I wondered why he carried with him in the first place, until he moved his head and I saw the necklace made out of yellow and black craft beads around it's neck.
He'd caught me staring at it. "It's my girlfriend's. She's a candy kid." Probably seeing my blank look, he added, "She goes to raves and gets necklaces and bracelets like that. She made this one for me to remember her by."
I reached into my shirt and held up the necklace Anya had gotten me, the silver cross. "My fiancee got this for me. Pre-wedding present."
The kid smiled. "My girlfriend's hinting at marriage. Maybe someday." He smiled, and I got a good look at his head and face. He had an obvious bleach job, dark roots popping up under bright blond hair. It had an afro-like quality to it. He had on black glasses, and he had a goatee that looked trimmed, clean.
Anya would like him. She'd think he's sexy in a nerdy way. I wonder if his girlfriend thinks of him the same way.
Surprisingly, I don't think of what she'd think of me.
"Got a picture?"
"Yeah." He digs for his wallet, and I see he has a few ones. I wonder how much longer he's got to ride, and if he'll have enough to make it.
A small picture, just taken for fun from the looks of it, shows a pretty girl with hair just a bit darker than Will's & eyes covered by sunglasses sitting on an electrical box by a bus stop, smiling. She's wearing all black: a dress of a shirt and skirt, long and to her ankles, and black combat boots.
Strange looking girl, but attractive.
"This was taken before we were dating," he says, looking at the picture and almost, at least to me, looking like he might start crying. "She looks a lot different know. She lives in jeans and T-shirts, and her hair's different. Lighter, with more brown." Putting the picture away, he asks, "You have one of your fiancee?"
Anya made sure my wallet's filled with pictures of friends. I think so I won't forget where home is while I take this trip. A wedding costs money, and I need some from the richer Harris' in the United States. Aw, biological families.
My real family, Anya and Will and Tara and Giles and Dawn and maybe even Spike...they're in Sunnydale.
I pull out my favorite picture, of all my friends, even Buffy. Pointing to Anya, who looks as radiant then as she does now, I simply say, "That's her."
"Wow," he breathes softly.
I should remember to tell Anya about this conversation. She seems to think she's not attractive to anyone but me anymore.
"Why's your girlfriend not here?"
He sighs. "I'm going home. I've been in the Marine Corps, and I got out, but I haven't seen my family in three years. I just don't have a place for her to stay with me, and she's in college. In four months, I'll see her. After Christmas."
Four months. I can't even imagine going four days without seeing Anya, no matter how briefly. Even though this trip is going to take at least a week. But that's only seven days, not four months.
Four months.
Wow.
"That must be harsh."
"Yeah. She was sobbing when I got on the bus this morning. I already miss her like crazy." He looked out the window, and hugged the beaver. "I should call her. We're in Beaver, Utah."
"She'd like that?"
"She'd get a kick out of it." He pulls out a thin silver cell phone and hits the numbers that he'd probably memorized early into their relationship.
"Hey, babe. Are you okay? That's good. I miss you. Yeah, I just got out of Beaver, Utah. I'm down to ten dollars. No, I'll be okay."
At this point, I feel the need to give them their privacy. It just amazes me that other people can have relationships as good as mine and Anya's.
It gives me hope, too.
AUTHOR: Ragna (WritingGoddess@aol.com; SpikeGrrl1@aol.com)
RATING: G
CLASSIFICATION: Xander POV, Xander/Anya
SUMMARY: Xander talks to the person sitting next to him on the Greyhound.
SPOILERS: Season 5, all the way.
DISTRIBUTION: Any sites with my fic up; you all have unspoken permission. I write it, you can post it. Everyone else just keep my name on it and let me know.
PREVIOUS PARTS/ARCHIVED AT: http://www.envy.nu/allthepain/index.html
DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kazui Sandollar, FOX and the WB own it or them. Various friends of mine are holding characters hostage. You may see them by appointment only.
FEEDBACK: Sorry I'm not home right now I'm walking in the spiderwebs so leave a message and I'll call you back...in other words, I want it. Don't care if it's onlist or not, but I prefer offlist since I have quite a few lists on No Mail.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Answer to Improv #24, topic being a character leaving.
DEDICATIONS: To Adam, who I miss so much right now. To Lar, for granting me challenge #24 on the Improv list. To the crew at YGTS, for being good friends (and especially Gileswench for the tweed hanky). To Spooky and Ogre, who got me headed home in one piece this morning.
~*~*~
The kid, who I guess couldn't be considered a kid because he looked just as old as me, had this thing for loud techno music. Normally, I wouldn't care. It's not my cup of tea, as Giles might say, but I have nothing against ravers like this guy.
Black baggy nylon pants, a black T-shirt with tagging across the front in red and white which until a few minutes ago was covered up by a blue hooded sweatshirt with gray stripes on the sleeves.
He'd been sleeping. He'd leaned on what looked like a normal stuffed animal, which I wondered why he carried with him in the first place, until he moved his head and I saw the necklace made out of yellow and black craft beads around it's neck.
He'd caught me staring at it. "It's my girlfriend's. She's a candy kid." Probably seeing my blank look, he added, "She goes to raves and gets necklaces and bracelets like that. She made this one for me to remember her by."
I reached into my shirt and held up the necklace Anya had gotten me, the silver cross. "My fiancee got this for me. Pre-wedding present."
The kid smiled. "My girlfriend's hinting at marriage. Maybe someday." He smiled, and I got a good look at his head and face. He had an obvious bleach job, dark roots popping up under bright blond hair. It had an afro-like quality to it. He had on black glasses, and he had a goatee that looked trimmed, clean.
Anya would like him. She'd think he's sexy in a nerdy way. I wonder if his girlfriend thinks of him the same way.
Surprisingly, I don't think of what she'd think of me.
"Got a picture?"
"Yeah." He digs for his wallet, and I see he has a few ones. I wonder how much longer he's got to ride, and if he'll have enough to make it.
A small picture, just taken for fun from the looks of it, shows a pretty girl with hair just a bit darker than Will's & eyes covered by sunglasses sitting on an electrical box by a bus stop, smiling. She's wearing all black: a dress of a shirt and skirt, long and to her ankles, and black combat boots.
Strange looking girl, but attractive.
"This was taken before we were dating," he says, looking at the picture and almost, at least to me, looking like he might start crying. "She looks a lot different know. She lives in jeans and T-shirts, and her hair's different. Lighter, with more brown." Putting the picture away, he asks, "You have one of your fiancee?"
Anya made sure my wallet's filled with pictures of friends. I think so I won't forget where home is while I take this trip. A wedding costs money, and I need some from the richer Harris' in the United States. Aw, biological families.
My real family, Anya and Will and Tara and Giles and Dawn and maybe even Spike...they're in Sunnydale.
I pull out my favorite picture, of all my friends, even Buffy. Pointing to Anya, who looks as radiant then as she does now, I simply say, "That's her."
"Wow," he breathes softly.
I should remember to tell Anya about this conversation. She seems to think she's not attractive to anyone but me anymore.
"Why's your girlfriend not here?"
He sighs. "I'm going home. I've been in the Marine Corps, and I got out, but I haven't seen my family in three years. I just don't have a place for her to stay with me, and she's in college. In four months, I'll see her. After Christmas."
Four months. I can't even imagine going four days without seeing Anya, no matter how briefly. Even though this trip is going to take at least a week. But that's only seven days, not four months.
Four months.
Wow.
"That must be harsh."
"Yeah. She was sobbing when I got on the bus this morning. I already miss her like crazy." He looked out the window, and hugged the beaver. "I should call her. We're in Beaver, Utah."
"She'd like that?"
"She'd get a kick out of it." He pulls out a thin silver cell phone and hits the numbers that he'd probably memorized early into their relationship.
"Hey, babe. Are you okay? That's good. I miss you. Yeah, I just got out of Beaver, Utah. I'm down to ten dollars. No, I'll be okay."
At this point, I feel the need to give them their privacy. It just amazes me that other people can have relationships as good as mine and Anya's.
It gives me hope, too.