Funnier in Latin
Spoilers: Goes vaguely late into BtVS 7 and AtS 4
Summary: Strange how things bring people together.
Disclaimer: All things BtVS and Angel belong to Joss Whedon.
Getting a wish granted does not lead to the happiest of endings.
Often those recipients of exceptional luck begin to operate under the
assumption that they're protected by some greater power. It really gets messy
when they decide that little is so much less than a whole lot and god-kings
People who hope and muddle through are appreciative of what tiny steps are
made. So they never get wishes granted, but usually find good housing or extra
change on the ground.
Fred stands in the grocery store, more than a few miles from any place that
would feed her without charge. An upper-class, business section of the city,
and she comes here for the scenery. Dressed in her cleanest best, just so no
one will ask that she shop. Trying for a bit of 'what used to be normal', she
scans the titles of books and pretends to be engrossed in a cover slightly
less offensive than all the others.
Seasonal changes, the melting of polar ice caps, global warming, so much has
happened while she ducked out.
Returned to a place where movies are made and those stars are just as quickly
sent spiralling down as ascending to glory and wonderful things.
'Magic...it's just like fairy tales.'
Kennedy had been sweet and earnest about how much she wanted to have 'a thing'
She was cute too, aggressive about what she wanted- which was admirable, if a
little intimidating. A taste of what Willow could do had been the building of
lines separating a possible happiness. Too much of magic being not what she
had expected, and that might have been part of waking up to how massive
responsibility was. The role of a witch as more than a cuddly woman with some
odd habits had become clear.
None of that saved a girl when the time for defeating evil came and she became
just another obstacle.
The girl-out-of-a-cave had been raised well enough to let someone have their
spaces and not whisper harm into the thread of inner words. Being around the
others wasn't frightening, their voices had too much hope for her to be
frightened. Volume was what drove her into retreat. That and unexpected
conflicts with never-ending heights.
Being sought after by men seemed fascinating in print and theory. Practice was
entirely different and uncomfortable.
They grappled long enough that in a break-up was ribbon and thoughts of
skipping off, leaving a space of desperation unnoticed even when occupied.
She has seen the couples and the way that they wear their hair and love in
such a way that they glow at those who are unable to find their own happiness.
Charles was supposed to be where she could go- pancake kisses and paper crowns
that somehow gleamed in sunshine moments.
Then he tried to show her she didn't have to be a killer. As if serving
justice wasn't the point.
Not something gentle, but now that he was razors and bubbling regret she saw
how badly protection worked when unneeded.
She'd learned in Pylea was that muscles weren't everything. The strong were
cut down as examples, same as plotting hangers-back.
What she'd lost had been years. No amount of doing the deed for her would
rectify the situation, and if anything, seeing how jagged her morality truly
was had begun the decay of their relationship.
Fred isn't wild and vicious the way dreams portray the girls wanted by many.
Willow thinks that if she really was that way, then it might be scarier to
touch her and think about how sharp edges can be without love.
She thinks about romance, all the great loves written out and perfumed in
reiterated tragedy. But when the book closes it is realism that keeps Fred
Dark places for hiding and invention seems connected to knowing where to hide.
And when to step out.
Nothing is ever truly created or destroyed just shifted.
Gunn has a great capacity to love and while not enough for Fred, there were
others to appreciate it.
Angel took Gunn aside to make sure there were rules and then left them to
fight and love as they could.
The vampire was more calm about the 'employee and son' thing than Willow had
expected, but then he had to have imagined worse matches.
Neither of them was desperate to rediscover love. Loss in any incarnation
needed time for healing. It was enough to be understood.
Being in close contact gradually brought the rights of intimacy.