I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, but one consolation is that I can spell them correctly. Yay me! I don't own most of the characters in this story, but one consolation is that I have *reaches toward the sky, which darkens except for the lightening flashes* absolute power, over them! *looks around and clears throat* Anyway, Joss is the owner of any and all things that I do not claim. I am the owner of everything that he wouldn't touch with a twelve-foot pole. Kay? By the by, I really love writing this story and I will hate it when it ends. *sigh* Oh well, as is traditional, we should be...

On with the show.

::Carpe Diem- Dancing With Myself::

Lindsey walked into the room and looked around. It was dark and there were various beeps, coming from the machines, next to Missy's bed. Lindsey hated hospitals. He hated doctors, nurses, medicine, injections, pills, sick people... They all were sources of annoyance for him. It amazed him that he hadn't been forced into coming by a promise or person, but he came under his own power. He looked at the bed and winced. Missy was thinner and paler than he had ever seen her. Her dancer's body was turning into a mere skeleton. The muscles were fading and the bones jutting in strange angles. All that he could think was that she must not have been eating properly, for a while, to turn out like that. Lindsey walked over to the bed and leaned toward the lamp, on the bedside table, and turned it on. "Missy?"

Missy's eyes fluttered open and the woman glanced around the room. The confusion in her gaze was obvious. She had no idea where she was. "Who?"

"It's me..." Lindsey pushed the woman's bangs out of her face and sighed. "...Lindsey."

Missy looked up at Lindsey, her pupils dilating, in recognition. "Please don't hurt me. Amelie told me that you hurt people, when you are angry. I didn't want to make you angry. Honest, I didn't."

Lindsey nodded and took a step backward. "I promise that I will not hurt you." While you're helpless, he added, silently. Lindsey took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "So, what did you want to tell me?" Lindsey had basic idea of what Missy wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him about how guilty she felt over Andy and everything else. She was looking for absolution. He just wanted the chance to deny her the forgiveness she was looking for.

Missy shook her head, slowly. "A story. You won't like it." Missy lifted a weak arm and pointed at the chair next to her bed. "You may want to sit down, also."

Lindsey looked back at the chair and shook his head. "I'll stand, thank you." He looked back at Missy, who had draped her arm across her eyes and started shaking. Lindsey frowned. He hated to see women cry, especially 'bad' women. He had never seen Lilah cry and if he had he would probably have quit his job, at that exact moment. If Lilah had only know that it was that easy to get rid of him, she would have probably been weeping at every turn.

Missy sighed and swiped her eyes, with the back of her wrist. "All right. I don't know where to start."

"The beginning seems a pretty good place to start." Lindsey muttered.

Missy shook her head. "If you are planning to stay overnight, it may be a good place to start. You may want to get home before then, though. Are you sure you don't want to sit down?"

Lindsey shook his head and grunted. "Tell your story."

Missy nodded. "All right. We are going to start almost seven years ago and I'll try to skip ahead as fast as possible. Is that okay?"

Lindsey shrugged. "Do what you have to do."

Missy smiled, sadly. "All guys sound the same, when they say certain things. Did you know that?" Missy stared up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. "You don't care, I'm sure, but things like that matter... to women, at least. Especially women like me." Missy shook her head. "I'm skipping ahead." She turned her head toward the window and sighed, quietly. "I met Amelie in a class she was helping teach. She came over and helped me stretch..."

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Missy had her ankle up on the bar and was stretching toward her pointed toes. She winced with every movement. She felt like a vice had been constricting her ribcage. She was bandaged up, because of the bruised ribs and the cracked sternum she had received three days before. She had missed class for two days and there was a new teacher's assistant up front showing the proper form to the younger, less experienced, students. So it surprised her when she felt a hand touch her shoulder.

"Excuse me, but you aren't doing the full extension."

Missy looked over her shoulder and met eyes with the new teacher's assistant. She stood up and pulled her leg off of the bar. "You see... I would do that, except it kind of... hurts, right now."

"I'm sorry." The woman's eyebrows scrunched, in concern. "Are you cramping or having muscle spasms?"

Missy looked at the hardwood flooring, while she chewed on her bottom lip and shook her head. "I had an accident three days ago. I fell down a flight of stairs and it cracked by sternum and bruised my ribs. They're bound up, pretty well. It just hurts to... move." Missy looked up and caught the way the lady's eyes had widened.

"Why are you even here?" The woman asked.

Missy gave a little shrug. "It's better than being at home?"

"Why is that?" The woman narrowed her eyes at Missy.

Missy sighed. "That's where the stairs are?"

The woman nodded and turned toward the teacher, mouthing something to her. The older lady nodded and waved her away. The woman turned toward Missy and smiled. "Why don't we get out of here and go have some coffee?"

Missy shook her head. "I'm not al... very good with coffee." Missy glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed. There was forty minutes left of class time.

"How about ice cream? You're allowed to eat that aren't you?" The woman watched the expression on Missy's face tumble and fall, and then nodded. "Let's just go for a walk. Is that okay?"

Missy nodded and followed the teacher's helper to the dressing rooms. They slipped on their sweats and grabbed their duffels, before heading out the door and toward the park. They talked about mindless subjects: music, movies, television actors and their skanky, wanna-be-swanky, playboy wives. They talked about politics and their lack of interest in the subject. They talked about their lives...

The assistants name was Amelie. She was not so much happily, as she was comfortably married. Her husband was a well-to-do lawyer and she had a beautiful little boy. The problem was, if a person didn't wear ballet slippers she didn't know how to talk to them. She knew dance, talked dance, lived dance, and, when she was sleeping, she dreamed dance. She was accustomed to lawyers, but she hated the business. Lawyers, as a whole, were always looking for an argument and she had a terrible temper and an ego to match. She was always right and she made sure others knew about it.

Missy decided that she like Amelie, from the beginning. She was a strong woman, who spoke her mind. Missy had always wanted to be one of those people who knew what they wanted and went for it, with all of their being.

Missy sighed before telling Amelie about her family. Around the age of three, Missy had decided that all she ever wanted to do was dance. Her parents had a jewelry business, somewhere in the middle of Utah and they really couldn't afford all of the classes and outfits that it took to be a dancer. Her parents worked night and day to make and sell jewelry so that she could stay in her ballet classes and make all of the payments, on time. After many years, everything seemed to be working according to plan. They were living off of the strictest budget, but it was worth it to see Missy blossom and grow in her skill.

Missy had just turned fifteen, when she met Billy. He was eighteen-years-old and a ballet student in Madame Dupree's School of the Performing Arts. His dad was a judge and his mother was Madame Dupree. He was the most sought after young man in the tri-county area. He was handsome, talented, intelligent, and he had his eye on Missy. Missy almost toppled out of her pirouette, when he leaned over and asked he to go to the movies with him. Of course, she had said yes. Her parents were weary of the man, but they said very few things to discourage the relationship. He treated her right and that was all that really mattered... even if his parents were the biggest pair of yuppie assholes they had ever come in contact with. Missy dated Billy for three years, until he decided to move, when a production company in LA recruited him. To Missy's surprise, Billy invited her to come and live with him. To her parent's surprise, she said yes.

Missy ended up leaving, with Billy, on the ten o'clock plane, two days later. They moved into a small apartment and Missy played housewife, until she could find a good ballet school to enroll in. Her parents had decided to send her the cash she needed, for classes, but there was a problem. LA ballet classes cost more than Utah ballet classes. Missy found a job delivering flowers to nursing homes and hospitals. She also maintained the apartment, while taking classes and she always made sure she was home in time to fix Billy a good meal. One day Missy just had too much on her plate. Between running errands, going to class, and working, she had no time to stop and make a sandwich for herself, let alone make a meal for Billy. Instead, she ordered take-out, left it on the table, and went straight to bed, so that she could pass out, comfortably. That was the first time Billy beat her.

She hadn't seen it coming. It was a fist out of the darkness that resulted in a swollen black eye, a bloody nose, and a sprained elbow and wrist. Billy begged her forgiveness and promised that it would never happen again. He didn't show signs of violence from then on, until he started drinking. He lost his job. The company fired him, because they found somebody better. It was their prerogative. Billy hadn't read the contract, he had signed when joining them. He also hadn't realized that if something sounds too good to be true, it most likely is.

Missy hadn't realized that either. Billy had been the perfect guy. He just had a couple of bad vices he couldn't shake. Drinking became a vice that harmed him and Missy. Apparently, Billy's father had been an alcoholic, when he wasn't in his judge's robe. The bug had infected Billy, the moment he decided to drown his problems in a Heineken. One beer, which led to another... and then another... and yet another. Missy had a period of five months, where all she was doing was running out to buy more bandages and salves. Finally, Billy had snapped. He had found an 'incriminating' picture of Missy receiving a hug from one of the men in her dance class. Missy and the young man happened to be standing, right next to the man's boyfriend, but Billy didn't want to hear that part of the story. He was drunk and he was only hearing what he wanted to hear. Enough was enough, he had said, right before pushing Missy down the flight of stairs.

Missy had woken up, in a hospital bed, her head kept still be a strangely shaped pillow. Her chest felt like it was weighted down with a barbell, but then Missy looked down and saw the cause of that certain feeling. Billy was leaning on her crying to whatever spirits that would take ear to his pleas. Missy had just petted his head soothingly and bit out the phrase, I'm leaving you. Billy had looked up at her with his liquid blue eyes and nodded. I deserve that, he had muttered. Do what you have to do, he added, before burying his face into her stomach and sobbing. Obviously he was sober, once more. Missy decided to stick around the house for a while, just in case things got better. If they didn't, she would leave.

Amelie had stopped that, then and there. "It won't get better!" She had raged. "He's a horrible, abusive man and he is going to kill you, if you do not leave him." She had stated.

Missy watched the woman, in awe. "He would never..."

"Not if he was sober, maybe." Amelie murmured. "But you said it, yourself. He is under the influence of alcohol and he will not stop." Amelie took a breath. "If he gets help, that is fine and dandy, but you are not going back home to him. Not now... not ever, if I have any say, in it."

Missy nodded. She wasn't enough of her own person to just come out and tell Amelie that she really didn't have any say in it and that she should just back off and mind her own business. The truth was, she knew Amelie was right. She was being treated horribly. She was being abused. She had never seen her father treat her mother this way and with good reason. Her father was a good and decent man. Plus, her mother would have never stood for it. That was it. Amelie was, as of that moment, that certain piece of straw that was always blamed for breaking the back of that poor camel. She was the straw that was last. She was a whole bunch of other clichés that were swimming around in Missy's head, which she just couldn't identify. After talking with Amelie, Missy decided that she was going to make good on her promise to Billy. She was going to leave him.

Missy and Amelie became confidantes in each other. They told one another their deepest secrets. Missy told Amelie about how she had accidentally washed all of Billy's underwear, with a red sock, and turned them all pink. She had ran out to Wal-Mart and bought him all new boxers and undershirts. His old ones, she wore to sleep in. He had asked her where she had gotten them all and she had made up some fake sale on women's sleepwear, at some girly store he wouldn't ever go by.

Amelie told Missy of the times she had cheated on her husband, with various dancers she had met, here and there. There were quite a few times that she had told Lindsey she was going over to Missy's and she just went out on the town and stayed out all night. Amelie also confided that there was almost no way Andy was Lindsey's. "The eyes are wrong. The hair color and texture are wrong. He was around the right time, but I was seriously dating three other guys then, also." Amelie had shrugged it off, while Missy stood gaping. "Don't be such a prude, Miss." Amelie had laughed.

It wasn't about being a prude, Missy decided. It was about lying to the man that you pledged to honor and love, for the rest of your life. It was about lying, in relation to the son that was supposed to belong to him. Missy had been surprised by the callousness of Amelie, many a time. She wrote it off on not being showed enough love as a child. She mentioned it one time, while they chatted.

Amelie shook her head. "I wasn't loved enough and you were over-loved." Amelie shrugged, nonchalantly. "I'm callous and you are naïve. It happens."

Missy decided that Amelie was most likely right and she dropped the subject. Only a few months later, a tragedy came up. Lindsey had decided to divorce Amelie, when he found out she was cheating on him, with the new Austrian babysitter, Hans. Missy still laughed about him. He was a very buff, funny man, with a deep accent that tickled her from her nose to the soles of her feet. He was a nice guy, but for some reason she couldn't imagine 'being' with him. Amelie couldn't imagine not being with him, apparently. So, Lindsey had had enough. He packed up his bags one day, taking only enough stuff to go on a weekend business trip and left. He was going to send child support and nothing else.

After Lindsey moved out of the family, Missy moved in. She didn't physically move into the house, for a while, but she was almost close enough to be an Aunt to Andy. She took Andy out for ice cream and babysat him, when Amelie was out. One day she had taken him over to a friend's house and a horrible thing happen. Andy and her friend's little boy got into a fight and Andy had a chunk bitten out of his arm. The friend apologized over and over, as they wrapped up the little boy's forearm. Andy just stared down at the bandages that were seeping with blood. The woman picked that time to inform Missy that her son was a werewolf and now Andy was 'infected'. Missy was very afraid to tell Amelie about the mishap, but there was really no way to hide it. In less than a week, her son was going to sprout hair and run around the house killing furniture. The least she could do was prepare Amelie for the worse, she decided.

Missy told Amelie of the bite and what it meant. Amelie had looked at Missy, disbelievingly, and sighed. "Now, we'll have to call Lindsey, I suppose." She muttered, as she swiped her hand over her face. So, Amelie had called up her ex-husband, who, surprisingly, showed quite a bit of interest in his son, after that. Lindsey came over, at least, twice a week to see his son. He always went under the alias of Uncle Lindsey, though. Everyone felt it was best to leave Andy in the dark about this certain piece of information.

After a few years, Lindsey started losing interest in his job and what his work place stood for. He started slacking off and, to the horror of everybody, he lost a limb... then he gained it back. Lindsey didn't explain how it was possible and nobody else the need to ask about it. A few months after that, Lindsey decided to go on a cross-country search for himself. He was going to go Southeast of the Mississippi. A phone call from Amelie, confirmed that he was in Louisiana... with a woman. He was across the country sowing wild oats, while Amelie stayed at home with a dog for a son and played mom!

At that moment, she decided there was only one thing to do, to make her life right again, and that was to get rid of Andy. He was hindering her as a person and a dancer. Personally, she couldn't kill him and she knew that nobody, in their right mind, would adopt a werewolf, as a son. This caused problems, until she heard of this man who collected and sold werewolves to the highest bidders. Usually the werewolves were kept as servants and 'pets'. Unusually, they were turned into coats. Amelie figured what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her and she made a deal to split the money sixty/forty with the man.

After that... everything went to hell. Amelie heard that Lindsey was back in town, so she decided to run by the nearest detective office that wouldn't freak over a werewolf and pretend she was trying to find her son. That way Lindsey would be thrown off the track. Then, Missy had been caught at the 'scene of the crime'. Angel Investigations wasn't supposed to be so thorough or talented. Lindsey had called them goofs, for as long as she could remember them being open. Goofs- they were not, though. Amelie almost threw in the towel, when she heard that Lindsey was trying to buy Andy. The description Mal gave her was perfect. The smooth voice, his name being Lindsey McDonald... it all pointed to the fact that Lindsey was too close. So, she had to put Angel on Lindsey's tail. She switched it around again, but to no avail. Andy was back with his father and Amelie had shot her closest friend, just so she wouldn't have a verbal confession against her.

"So, from the beginning to end..." Missy sighed. "... that is the story I needed to tell you." Missy turned her head toward Lindsey, who was sitting low in the chair, next to her bed. He didn't blink, sigh, or say a word. He just stood up, turned toward the door, and walked out into the sterile hallways of the hospital.

TBC

-That was the hardest chapter to write! *wipes sweat from forehead* There was no humor and it was killing me, but I felt the need to express the seriousness of the situation, through the way I told Missy's story. Ahem... Anyway, please review and tell me what you think of this chapter. (The only chapter that has forced me to tears... twice.)-

--The subtitle was Dancing With Myself, which is a song by Billy Idol. How's that for a title, Chelsea, dear?--