Her confession made, she was free to leave. The spell failed, instead of bringing their hero back, she’d stolen him instead. Of course, she hadn’t meant to, but the side effect of her greatest mistake was that she had been strong enough to bring him halfway. The only fault was that his soul was not in his own body but in Amelia’s. The woman who now and forevermore would be called Francis, Fran.
It was only fair that they know. He’s alive…sort of. She only hoped to bring them some semblance of peace, but the pain was more than she could bear. Grief she could handle, she had seen far too much of that, it was faded hope. There was no asking anyone else, this was the lot given. Rising to leave the room that brought a sharp aching pain she was unsure whether it was her own or Doyle’s. She was still get used to figuring that part out. “Time for a drink down at the pub, then I’m gone. I’m so sorry..for your loss.”
Fran hurried out the door, only to be followed by the dark-haired beauty. Whirling around, she felt almost outraged she would try to extend their pain. Why wouldn’t she just go back inside?
“You can’t do that! Go back inside, help Angel. There’s nothing I can do now. To rip Doyle from my body now could kill me, and I’m not ready to figure out if that’s even possible. I’m not that strong yet, okay?”
It was her response that startled Fran, almost knocking her clear off her feet, “I need you.”
No one had ever needed her before, her help, her skill, lots of people need that. No one needed Amelia/Fran.
“Okay,” she half-yelled, uncertain how she felt about what that meant. Shifting awkwardly in the pause, she glanced toward the pub then back at the office finally landing on Cordelia, she took a deep breath and spoke again, “you hiring, then?” And a ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
ofvampiresandvisions reblogged this from bornforthegoodfight
bornforthegoodfight posted this
