Title: Some Wishes
Author: Moonbeam
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: They all belong to Joss. Grr....Argh, and all that stuff.
Timeline: Buffy-S5. Shortly after Joyce's death.
Pairings: X/A. W/T. B/A with some B/S undertones.
--------------------------------------
Chapter Three:
+Los Angeles+
"So then I said, 'One of a kind? Please! I saw the same top at Gap last week!' Not that I shop at Gap or anything. Because that's so over. But you know what I mean." Cordelia finished, giving a little sigh.
"Cord, do you have those files from the Richardson case?" Angel said, his eyes still glued to a book.
"Uh..yeah." She stood up from behind the desk, shuffling through some folders. She continued her conversation with Wesley, "So then I went to get myself a cappuccino because I *so* deserved it after a morning like *that*." Angel rolled his eyes slightly, though he continued to read. A sunny LA morning full of shopping. The horrors.
"And you will never, ever guess who I saw."
Wesley took a sip of his tea. "Who?" He asked, prompting her to go on. Angel wanted to smack him sometimes.
Cordelia pulled out a blue folder and put it down in front of Angel. "Oh, here you go. She turned back to Wesley. "Amanda Ravine!"
Wesley stared blankly at her. "Come again?"
She rolled her eyes, "Well of course *you* wouldn't remember her! She wouldn't have been caught dead in the Sunnydale High School library!" She scoffed, shoving some hair behind her ear. "But oh my gosh, you won't believe what's going down over there."
That got Angel's attention. "What? What's wrong? Vampires?"
Cordelia looked at him, almost appalled. "Not even close. God, not all of my friends were demonologists or whatever, if you remember correctly. *Some* of them had actual lives. Anyway, she said Clark Jay and Alyssa Birkway are getting married!"
"That's wonderful." Wesley said, smiling.
"EXCUSE me?" Cordelia's eyes widened. Wesley winced. "Wonderful? He like what, flips burgers for a living? And you know that she's probably pregnant or something. Sophomore year, the janitor found her in the broom closet with Christopher Sideband on the same day she started going with Rick Moore. Talk about skanky."
"Were we talking about skanky?" Wesley asked, now completely lost.
"I don't think so." Angel replied, standing up and walking to the bookshelf.
Just then, the large doors to the Hyperion Hotel swung open, and Gunn entered the lobby.
"Angel, Wes. Y'all ready to go?" He asked, stopping in front of Cordelia's desk and smiling. "Hey Cordy."
"Where, exactly, are you guys going?" Cordelia asked.
"Vamp nest, back down near my side of town. Figured since it was still light outside, we would have a slight upper hand. You know what I'm sayin'?"
"Okay, yeah, that's all great. But Angel. Still a vampire. And sunlight. Still bad."
"We're taking the tunnels, Cordelia." Angel said, putting on his duster and nodding to the two other men. "Let's go."
"Fine. Go off. But don't come crawling back to me when you're craving the latest Sunnydale gossip fix." She sighed, as the door closed behind them. "Because I'm all out."
Seeing her old friend had, as much as she hated to admit it, struck something in her. A memory? A flash of something she could have been? She should have been the girl carelessly sipping cappuccinos, dating a wealthy, handsome, *normal* man, and living the good life.
"Stupid Powers-That-Suck." She muttered, clearing her throat, and turning her attention back to her computer screen, clicking around for a few seconds. Suddenly, she felt a pounding in the back of her head. She knew this feeling. The wheels on her computer chair skid backwards as she flung herself against it in blinding pain. Images flashed in and out of her line of vision and she grasped, frantically, at her head.
As quickly as it came, it was gone; the only reminders of it were her raspy intakes of air, sweaty palms, and hammering heart.
"Note to self: Mocking the PTB, equals serious ouch." She said, bitterly.
But memories of the vision were still crystal clear, and she got a sinking, sinking feeling. Angel was absolutely going to *hate* this.
--------------------------------------
+Sunnydale+
When I was a little girl, nightmares were my biggest fear. Each night I'd lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling, hoping that this night would be a good one. No monsters. No fear. Just sleep.
I was eight when my cousin Celia died. I was standing over her hospital bed when it happened. Everything was burned, permanently engraved, into my mind. The way her cheeks paled, the color just draining from her face, and the way her eyes widened, in complete helplessness and fear, begging me to save her. That night, as I slept, I saw her everywhere. Every corner I turned, every place I looked, she was there. Bleeding, limping, crying, and yelling at me for letting her die.
I didn't sleep for three whole nights after that. Eventually, I was too exhausted to even dream and sleep just came. But I was terrified of them. Nightmares. The way they crept up on you and strangled you, to the point where it didn't feel like anything was real or could be trusted. I found out later, that being the Slayer was a lot like having a bad dream.
Sometimes I wonder if the nightmares I had were warnings. A foreshadowing of what my life would be like. Scary and black and full of dread. I don't *really* think so. But you never know.
That afternoon, back at the Magic Box, I had a sudden flash of waking up, eight-years-old, terrified of whatever had snuck into my mind and attacked me in my sleep. The panic that washes over you, and then, finally-relief. It surges through you, telling you none of it was real. [It was just a dream. It was just a dream.] Of course, the prophetic ones don't ever provide much relief. But that really goes without saying.
My first reaction was to tell Giles. He would know what to do. He always knew what dreams like these meant. Evil vampire-leaders, creepy Gentlemen, even the occasional apocalypse..he would have answers.
But something in the back of my mind nagged me, telling me otherwise. The dream hadn't contained anything supernatural. Nothing that was a potential danger to me, or to anyone else. Telling Giles would result in endless questioning, and much sympathy. Sympathy for all I'd gone through. Sympathy for Angel leaving. Sympathy for Mom. I didn't want any of it, not at the moment.
So I hit the books. Researching had never really been my thing. Mostly, it bored the hell out of me. But this time I had to know. It was like something unleashed inside of me, filling me with a hunger to understand.
I decided to start with basics. I looked up dreams. I read up on sleep patterns, dream analysis, dream control.it was all there. I read everything I could get my hands on, as I sat in that back room for hours. Nobody interrupted me, oddly enough, but I was too involved to really care enough to be offended. Giles had probably gotten caught up in his readings too. Ironically, the book that held my answers was the book I didn't mean to find.
I was finishing up, fairly discouraged, cursing myself for not being smart like Giles or Willow. Wishing that knowledge came to me like it came to them. As I stood up to leave, my eyes casually scanned over the shelves, when I saw something different. Among the other books, was a thin, grey book with no text on its binding. I reached over, easily sliding it off the shelf. As I looked at it closer, I could make out an image, faded, but still there. It was a bird of some sort. Blue, at one point in time. Its wings were sprawled out across the left corner of the book, curling towards the bottom. I opened it, the pages extremely thin and fragile. The text was small, no smaller than any of the other books, and black; smooth against the creamy pages.
But what got to me were the words. There, sprawled out across the page, in black cursive were the words that stopped my heart.
*Once Upon A Time..*
A fairy tale book? Giles actually *owned* fairy tales? My breath got caught in my throat, and for some reason, I couldn't stop the tears that filled my eyes. Afternoons spent curled up with Mom and Dawn, reading book after book- princesses, dwarfs, clouds, and stars and magic. Memories of being carefree and happy. God, I had forgotten how good it felt. To hope all these wonderful things could happen. Maybe. Someday. Somehow. But as I looked over the next line, everything stopped.
*..there was a Vampire Slayer.*
Author: Moonbeam
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: They all belong to Joss. Grr....Argh, and all that stuff.
Timeline: Buffy-S5. Shortly after Joyce's death.
Pairings: X/A. W/T. B/A with some B/S undertones.
--------------------------------------
Chapter Three:
+Los Angeles+
"So then I said, 'One of a kind? Please! I saw the same top at Gap last week!' Not that I shop at Gap or anything. Because that's so over. But you know what I mean." Cordelia finished, giving a little sigh.
"Cord, do you have those files from the Richardson case?" Angel said, his eyes still glued to a book.
"Uh..yeah." She stood up from behind the desk, shuffling through some folders. She continued her conversation with Wesley, "So then I went to get myself a cappuccino because I *so* deserved it after a morning like *that*." Angel rolled his eyes slightly, though he continued to read. A sunny LA morning full of shopping. The horrors.
"And you will never, ever guess who I saw."
Wesley took a sip of his tea. "Who?" He asked, prompting her to go on. Angel wanted to smack him sometimes.
Cordelia pulled out a blue folder and put it down in front of Angel. "Oh, here you go. She turned back to Wesley. "Amanda Ravine!"
Wesley stared blankly at her. "Come again?"
She rolled her eyes, "Well of course *you* wouldn't remember her! She wouldn't have been caught dead in the Sunnydale High School library!" She scoffed, shoving some hair behind her ear. "But oh my gosh, you won't believe what's going down over there."
That got Angel's attention. "What? What's wrong? Vampires?"
Cordelia looked at him, almost appalled. "Not even close. God, not all of my friends were demonologists or whatever, if you remember correctly. *Some* of them had actual lives. Anyway, she said Clark Jay and Alyssa Birkway are getting married!"
"That's wonderful." Wesley said, smiling.
"EXCUSE me?" Cordelia's eyes widened. Wesley winced. "Wonderful? He like what, flips burgers for a living? And you know that she's probably pregnant or something. Sophomore year, the janitor found her in the broom closet with Christopher Sideband on the same day she started going with Rick Moore. Talk about skanky."
"Were we talking about skanky?" Wesley asked, now completely lost.
"I don't think so." Angel replied, standing up and walking to the bookshelf.
Just then, the large doors to the Hyperion Hotel swung open, and Gunn entered the lobby.
"Angel, Wes. Y'all ready to go?" He asked, stopping in front of Cordelia's desk and smiling. "Hey Cordy."
"Where, exactly, are you guys going?" Cordelia asked.
"Vamp nest, back down near my side of town. Figured since it was still light outside, we would have a slight upper hand. You know what I'm sayin'?"
"Okay, yeah, that's all great. But Angel. Still a vampire. And sunlight. Still bad."
"We're taking the tunnels, Cordelia." Angel said, putting on his duster and nodding to the two other men. "Let's go."
"Fine. Go off. But don't come crawling back to me when you're craving the latest Sunnydale gossip fix." She sighed, as the door closed behind them. "Because I'm all out."
Seeing her old friend had, as much as she hated to admit it, struck something in her. A memory? A flash of something she could have been? She should have been the girl carelessly sipping cappuccinos, dating a wealthy, handsome, *normal* man, and living the good life.
"Stupid Powers-That-Suck." She muttered, clearing her throat, and turning her attention back to her computer screen, clicking around for a few seconds. Suddenly, she felt a pounding in the back of her head. She knew this feeling. The wheels on her computer chair skid backwards as she flung herself against it in blinding pain. Images flashed in and out of her line of vision and she grasped, frantically, at her head.
As quickly as it came, it was gone; the only reminders of it were her raspy intakes of air, sweaty palms, and hammering heart.
"Note to self: Mocking the PTB, equals serious ouch." She said, bitterly.
But memories of the vision were still crystal clear, and she got a sinking, sinking feeling. Angel was absolutely going to *hate* this.
--------------------------------------
+Sunnydale+
When I was a little girl, nightmares were my biggest fear. Each night I'd lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling, hoping that this night would be a good one. No monsters. No fear. Just sleep.
I was eight when my cousin Celia died. I was standing over her hospital bed when it happened. Everything was burned, permanently engraved, into my mind. The way her cheeks paled, the color just draining from her face, and the way her eyes widened, in complete helplessness and fear, begging me to save her. That night, as I slept, I saw her everywhere. Every corner I turned, every place I looked, she was there. Bleeding, limping, crying, and yelling at me for letting her die.
I didn't sleep for three whole nights after that. Eventually, I was too exhausted to even dream and sleep just came. But I was terrified of them. Nightmares. The way they crept up on you and strangled you, to the point where it didn't feel like anything was real or could be trusted. I found out later, that being the Slayer was a lot like having a bad dream.
Sometimes I wonder if the nightmares I had were warnings. A foreshadowing of what my life would be like. Scary and black and full of dread. I don't *really* think so. But you never know.
That afternoon, back at the Magic Box, I had a sudden flash of waking up, eight-years-old, terrified of whatever had snuck into my mind and attacked me in my sleep. The panic that washes over you, and then, finally-relief. It surges through you, telling you none of it was real. [It was just a dream. It was just a dream.] Of course, the prophetic ones don't ever provide much relief. But that really goes without saying.
My first reaction was to tell Giles. He would know what to do. He always knew what dreams like these meant. Evil vampire-leaders, creepy Gentlemen, even the occasional apocalypse..he would have answers.
But something in the back of my mind nagged me, telling me otherwise. The dream hadn't contained anything supernatural. Nothing that was a potential danger to me, or to anyone else. Telling Giles would result in endless questioning, and much sympathy. Sympathy for all I'd gone through. Sympathy for Angel leaving. Sympathy for Mom. I didn't want any of it, not at the moment.
So I hit the books. Researching had never really been my thing. Mostly, it bored the hell out of me. But this time I had to know. It was like something unleashed inside of me, filling me with a hunger to understand.
I decided to start with basics. I looked up dreams. I read up on sleep patterns, dream analysis, dream control.it was all there. I read everything I could get my hands on, as I sat in that back room for hours. Nobody interrupted me, oddly enough, but I was too involved to really care enough to be offended. Giles had probably gotten caught up in his readings too. Ironically, the book that held my answers was the book I didn't mean to find.
I was finishing up, fairly discouraged, cursing myself for not being smart like Giles or Willow. Wishing that knowledge came to me like it came to them. As I stood up to leave, my eyes casually scanned over the shelves, when I saw something different. Among the other books, was a thin, grey book with no text on its binding. I reached over, easily sliding it off the shelf. As I looked at it closer, I could make out an image, faded, but still there. It was a bird of some sort. Blue, at one point in time. Its wings were sprawled out across the left corner of the book, curling towards the bottom. I opened it, the pages extremely thin and fragile. The text was small, no smaller than any of the other books, and black; smooth against the creamy pages.
But what got to me were the words. There, sprawled out across the page, in black cursive were the words that stopped my heart.
*Once Upon A Time..*
A fairy tale book? Giles actually *owned* fairy tales? My breath got caught in my throat, and for some reason, I couldn't stop the tears that filled my eyes. Afternoons spent curled up with Mom and Dawn, reading book after book- princesses, dwarfs, clouds, and stars and magic. Memories of being carefree and happy. God, I had forgotten how good it felt. To hope all these wonderful things could happen. Maybe. Someday. Somehow. But as I looked over the next line, everything stopped.
*..there was a Vampire Slayer.*
