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perfectblueIt was that time.
Fred was the one who'd requested a time, because then she would be more likely to stick to it, and to follow through. Not that she wanted to be one to not follow through with her word. But the closer things got, the bigger the words seemed. If there was a set time then she could work it into mental checklists like setting up a time to study with Kara, or following up with Cordy to see if she'd heard anything new. It made it part of the day again. As natural an order of things as they ever got.
And that's just what it felt like until she sat Wesley and Methos down to in a formal sort of way to tell them what she'd decided. What they didn't say, she felt, and there was still levels of uncertainty there. Not enough to stop though.
She hadn't made a show of things when she asked Illyria for time to think about her offer of reclaiming what was -- well, she was as close to them as anyone else. And maybe it was her past doing the thing all pasts do, raising its head up to remind you that a past is just that. Something that is always there, behind you. Sometimes darker than a shadow, and sometimes a beam of afternoon sunlight you want to curl up in and avoid what comes next.
Her darker, shadowy past knew what it was like to forget, and to feel the memories slip through you one by one and a sense of self along with it. Good or bad, memories needed to be protected. Because that's where a person is. Ot a least enough parts of them to make it worth mattering. Those memories matter. To her. To Wesley. To anyone else they'd touched along the way. Why they were where they were was another place for her mind to me on even another day. But if Illyria was ready to put those memories down, then Fred was going to make sure someone picked them up.
And it should be here. Maybe, just maybe, if twos converged into a one that much better, some of the rough edges would smooth a bit. Those were the selfish thoughts that had made Fred's thinking pause, and cause her to ask Illyria for time. It wasn't that she didn't know exactly what she was about to do. But she had wanted to make sure it was right.
And once she was sure, Fred asked for that time. Which, it now was.
She got to the living room first, and waited.
Fred was the one who'd requested a time, because then she would be more likely to stick to it, and to follow through. Not that she wanted to be one to not follow through with her word. But the closer things got, the bigger the words seemed. If there was a set time then she could work it into mental checklists like setting up a time to study with Kara, or following up with Cordy to see if she'd heard anything new. It made it part of the day again. As natural an order of things as they ever got.
And that's just what it felt like until she sat Wesley and Methos down to in a formal sort of way to tell them what she'd decided. What they didn't say, she felt, and there was still levels of uncertainty there. Not enough to stop though.
She hadn't made a show of things when she asked Illyria for time to think about her offer of reclaiming what was -- well, she was as close to them as anyone else. And maybe it was her past doing the thing all pasts do, raising its head up to remind you that a past is just that. Something that is always there, behind you. Sometimes darker than a shadow, and sometimes a beam of afternoon sunlight you want to curl up in and avoid what comes next.
Her darker, shadowy past knew what it was like to forget, and to feel the memories slip through you one by one and a sense of self along with it. Good or bad, memories needed to be protected. Because that's where a person is. Ot a least enough parts of them to make it worth mattering. Those memories matter. To her. To Wesley. To anyone else they'd touched along the way. Why they were where they were was another place for her mind to me on even another day. But if Illyria was ready to put those memories down, then Fred was going to make sure someone picked them up.
And it should be here. Maybe, just maybe, if twos converged into a one that much better, some of the rough edges would smooth a bit. Those were the selfish thoughts that had made Fred's thinking pause, and cause her to ask Illyria for time. It wasn't that she didn't know exactly what she was about to do. But she had wanted to make sure it was right.
And once she was sure, Fred asked for that time. Which, it now was.
She got to the living room first, and waited.
