abetterlie: (Default)
It wasn't exactly the week from hell, but a hell of a week. The strike meant everyone had to walk, and okay, I'm faster than most people, but not if everyone is blocking the roads because they need to walk as well. Everyone except for Spider-man, that is. Guess who was the only student arriving punctually at college that week? Webslinging is unfair.

On the other hand, Faith was in town. Which was awesome. Seriously, I was kind of surprised she wanted to talk to me at all because last time I saw her she was saving everyone's butt by taking Angelus down without killing him and I was busy freaking out and trying to stake him, so I figured she wouldn't have the time of the day for me, but she did. We even got to spar a little and patrol, and okay, it wasn't much of a patrol because even the vamps figured New York sucked as a hunting ground, no pun intended, but it was still good.

And then Faith, Harry and I went dancing. Which wasn't good, it was the fun kind of torture. I so wanted to kill Harry at times, but I guess finding out how many times you can have sex standing in a dark corner of a club afterwards made it all worth it. Top secret confession: looking back now, I'm sort of relieved Faith didn't go through with it. I mean, yeah, sure, she is incredibly hot, and okay, so I did have some fantasies now and then ever since she wiped the floor with me in Los Angeles. And Harry did say he was open to threesomes. Only I'm not sure I am. Fantasies are one thing, but if you have had sex with someone, things are different. You look at them differently. And I don't know - it probably makes me sound like a prick or a hypocrite because I started falling for Harry when I was still with Justine - but well, having sex with someone is special. It's not like a handshake. Or dancing, for that matter. So I'm glad the only one I ended up having sex with that evening was Harry.

I think Faith is still cool with me, because she came to the OsCorp Christmas party the next day as my sort of date because Harry was sort of going with Claire Davidson. Some guy named Griffin came over and wanted to dance with her, but she turned him down, and he glared at us for the rest of the evening.

On Friday, the strike was finished which was good because I wanted to take the train to Boston. Both because Phillip shouldn't work the day before Christmas Eve and because I just like going by train. I remember Mere and I thinking it was something out of the movies, like with Butch and Sundance. She'd like the East Coast, Mere. And the snow. Mom would hate it, though. I mean, she did hate it. She went to college here and told me she was always glad to return to California during the winter because of the cold, and even if she never told me because I was a child when she did and in Quortoth, she still must have disliked the weather. Father - Father would feel at home, because of England. It's so odd, because he described Utah to me and only now do I know it was England he described and not Utah at all. Utah was different.

(I'll never go there again, because it belongs to Justine and me, and going with someone else would be a betrayal. But sometimes I still dream of the heat, and of her.)

So now I'm in a Boston hotel that's not too far away from where Angel, Darla and Kara live. Their presents lie on the bed - oil and pastel and water colors and some Japanese brushes for Angel, the locket with the portraits for Darla and the concert tickets for Kara. I already sent the magazine Peter Parker made for me to Cordy, and MJ has the Italian shoes for Harry. After that quiz, he wanted a letter, so I wrote one, which was - well, after I had finished, I suddenly realized it wasn't just the first attempt at writing something sex-related, it was the first love letter I ever wrote. Since everything between Harry and me basically started with emails, it's sort of fitting.

Time to make a phone call, and then go over and - it's so weird writing this - visit the family. I kept practicing what to say to Kara in the train. Also to Darla. Less so to Angel, because I know I won't be able to remember it at the right moment anyway and because we're better at improvising.

Perhaps the best and weirdest thing is that I'm looking forward to this.

Thank you!

Dec. 17th, 2005 03:37 pm
abetterlie: (Default)
Having been gifted with two months of paid account time and pictures by [livejournal.com profile] angel_ceo_'s kind mun, I could think of no better way to express my gratitude than by fanfiction, so, an early present back:

Five Ways To Celebrate Christmas
abetterlie: (Default)
Realisations of the past seven days:

1) Puppies like Italian shoes. Just as well, because if they liked normal sports shoes, it would only encourage Harry to buy me new ones. Also, New York millionaires really like puppies. Which is good because I'm so going to train that dog to act as a second body guard when I'm not around, and St. Bernards get pretty big. No more Todd Campbell idiocies.

2) Cordy's husband is a moron. Without a sense of humour. Or maybe he just had a bad day. We all have those. Plus she must see something in him, right? Still. No idea what his problem is. Maybe I should ask Angel whether that's his general mode towards anyone Cordelia ever was involved with, or just with me. But that would mean talking about Cordy with Angel, which just isn't - well, we haven't done it so far. Since.

Still wish Cordy had married someone else instead, but to fair, it could be worse. She could have married Todd. (Though Todd at least has a sense of humor...)

Speaking of humor - Harry was kidding when he said he and Cordy have the same type, right? Right. Absolutely. 100 %.

3) Kara conversations involving me work best when I'm not part of the conversation. I mean, it totally floored me when she defended me when talking to Orlando. But no sooner do I start talking to her about bracelets and tattos that we end up with the me having hurt her by falling for Harry again. With something bizarre about Angel shoved in between. Note to self: do not speculate about what she meant by "the point is NOT that he wouldn't. The point is that I wouldn't!" There lies badness. I mean, sure, there was a time when I believed Angel was capable of anything, but the mindwipe cured me of that, I know it has. I do not believe he'd go for a sixteen years old blonde slayer who needs a father figure. NO WAY.

4) And while we're on the subject: Christmas presents are a nightmare. So far, I have:

a) Darla: Italian locket bought at antiquity store with two photos in it, one of Kara and one of self. Will not think of Father having a portrait like this of Caroline and Sarah. No.

b) Angel: oil and pastel and water colors and some Japanese brushes. Because he gave me the sketch of Emily. Which I can't look at now without recalling the damm nightmare, but that's not Angel's - well actually - anyway. I hope he'll like the present.

c) Kara: concert tickets for the Rolling Stones (she told Alan Shore in my lj she liked them), January 13, 2006, Friday, 7:30 pm, TD Banknorth Garden. Then it suddenly occured to me that it was a Friday the 13th, and she could think - hell, this is Kara, she so will - that I wish something bad on her. And maybe she wasn't serious about the Stones. So I bought her tickets for Lifehouse on February 1st in Avalon as well. That's a Wednesday. And she probably likes Lifehouse. Three tickets each time, so she can go either with Tucker and Warren or with Angel and Darla, as she likes.

I guess she'll just tear them up and throw them at me.

d) Cordelia. Now, the obvious person to ask is Harry. Because I have zero idea about fashion, and he'd definitely pick something fabulous and fitting. But he's a bit paranoid about her. Or he'd pick something so expensive I can't afford it and buy it for me to give to her, and then I'd feel guilty, because I want to pay for it with my own money. I'm still debating this with me. Until then, I've been getting her a cross bow. She used to be great with them. With my luck, Orlando will probably think this is another complicated insult because he used to play an elf who shoots arrows and will ruin Christmas for her, so maybe I should skip that and ask Harry for fashion advice anyway.

e) Justine. Would probably punch me for wondering. And call it cheap sentimentality or something like that. Plus I don't even know where she is. But I think of her and Utah and driving, and the car - her old one, not Angel's which is what she has now - and... well. I bought some Donna Reed CDs, because she said she liked Donna Reed, and carved some stakes so they'd fit perfectly for her - you can adjust them to the handsize of a person, you know.

f) Harry. Well, the meme kind of settled that, but I've never done this kind of thing before! I mean, it will probably sound either corny or like a description of gymnastics instead of erotic. But a wish is a wish. So: move those brain cells, somehow write an erotic love letter. Instead of a corny description of gymnastics.

I was also thinking of surprising him by replacing the Italian shoes Bailey is so fond of, but that would mean asking Cordy for advice, and that's an even worse idea than asking Harry for advice about Cordy, because Cordy is Kara's friend.

Conclusion: life was so much easier when I just had to wonder about whether or not to kill my biological father...


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