A short, rather angsty one-shot from the perspective of Irene Conner not long after she noticed Bonnie's wings growing. Based on the song "In My Arms" by Plumb but not a song fic.

Thanks for reading and please review!

~brainandheart

She looks up at me, pleading with those clear blue eyes, and I can't deny her anything. She knows the moment I crack, and she climbs up into my lap, her solid warmth cuddling close. She smiles up at me, an innocent sweet smile with two teeth missing, and I can't help but smile back. So much for bedtime.

I pick up the book she's chosen this time: Beauty and the Beast, which has recently become her favorite story. I wrinkle my nose at her.

"Are you sure you want this story?" I tease.

"Yes, Mama!"

"Oh, alright," she giggles as I sigh dramatically, "but this is the last night!"

This is the fifth night in a row she has had me read Beauty and the Beast. I have no doubt tomorrow will be the sixth.

By the time I read "happily ever after", she is asleep in my lap, her blonde head tucked under my chin. Her little mouth is curled in a small smile, and I know she is dreaming about handsome princes and enchanted forests and skies bluer than could ever be possible on this polluted planet.

I set aside the book, and a bittersweet feeling comes over me as I catch sight of the picture on the cover: a beautiful young woman in an evening gown, gazing down at a perfect rose in one hand.

There may be a mythic beast beneath this woman's shell, but I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago. There are few who have lived longer than I have, and though I know there is beauty on this earth, the evidence of that is right here in my arms, I have also seen more than enough of darkness. Corruption, violence, prejudice and lies; through the centuries this pattern remains, and will not end until time itself ceases. There is no creature in the world more cruel than man.

There are no fairy tales in this life, but my heart aches for the moment my daughter will finally understand this. When I saw those nubs on her shoulder blades, just a few short months ago, I cried. Oh, when I was with my daughter I was the picture of confidence, ready with explanations, but late that night, after she was tucked in bed and my husband had fallen into a fitful sleep, I wept.

The world was harsh enough to the average person, harsher still to those it felt didn't belong, to those who were different. I never wanted my daughter to know the sting of prejudice and the shame of hiding who she truly is. Oh Lord, why have you done this to her? To my beautiful baby girl?

I wish with all my heart that I could shield her from pain, that she could find her prince, and that she could have a "happily ever after" of her own. I wish all of this with a mother's heart.

I cannot protect her forever, but forever is not now.

For now, she is safe in my arms.