By Rosie and Amelia
Summery: A harmless Parody of Willows thoughts during The Body.
Disclaimer: People if you think these Characters belong to me I suggest you go check and see what's in your water. These characters belong to people way over is America you know Joss and what such, go hassle them….
Oh and just so you know, Joyce is only colour blind in our 'verse. So don't go thinking she was colour blind in the show though that would be quiet amusing…
Author's Note: Both Rosie and I were completely stuck when it came to writing Willow. Not that I don't like her, go Willow (though early Willow is definitely better than late Willow. Kennedy, what was the thinking going out with that thing???) but she's extremely hard to write her. Anyway, I got fed up and this is supposed to be funny so don't think you're laughing at my efforts at being angsty. That is, if you do feel the need to laugh. Oh yeah, this is Xanya-Forever or Meals as my pettums Rose calls me, by the way. Please review, it's my first stab at humorous kinda stuff.
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"Wish I had the blue."
Joyce liked it so. I had it on that time and she said it matched my eyes, which is kind of funny seeing my eyes are green…
I wore it just last week.
Oh goodness, - Joyce. It feels like I'm sinking through the floor with embarrassment, my face must be so blotchy from crying... Whoops, wrong analogy. It feels like my stomach has been left on the ground when I've gone up in a lift. Sick, and twisted on the inside with grief.
Did I put it in the wash?
I'm not trying to look good with the clothes, I'm not. That's not why I keep changing them. Do you understand? Tara, baby, do you?
No, I didn't.
I have to be strong, to help Buffy, and Dawn. Strong like an Amazon. But not with the huge manly upper arms muscles. No, off the image thing… I have to be strong on the inside, filled with lead and, well I'm upset and I can't think of another strong thing, but I have to be like that.
Did I lend it to Tara?
I know she's not my mother, but that doesn't help. My mother didn't even notice when I had my hair cut... sure, Joyce couldn't tell what colour my eyes were, but she was colour blind so
she had an excuse.
No, she would have told me.
Joyce was an art gallery owner, and she was colour blind. That just shows how brave she was, how committed to the business. I respect her for that, more than I respect my own mother, who had full colour vision. Sheila, even her name wasn't as beautiful as the name Joyce. Joyce's name has the word joy in it. Will there be any more joy now that she's gone?
Did Joyce steal it?
How will Dawn survive? She and Joyce were so close, loved each other so much. They were as thick as thieves. They were thieves, in fact. If Joyce didn't take my blue shirt, and I'd bet my last bushel of Lethe's Bramble that she did, then it was Dawn.
How will I get it back?
Without… gone… loss… grief…
What will I do without it? My blue shirt is gone. Forever. And, and, and Joyce liked it so. She should have known, should have trusted me enough to tell me. I would have worn it next time I saw her. She didn't need to steal it.
I wish I had the blue.
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Review please….