Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
using
 paypal
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Is your email address still valid?

Costumes You Wear When You’re Dead

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking
Ficlet(s)

This story is No. 5 in the series "Fic-For-All Frivolity". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: What would the dead dress up as? Would they always have a choice? If we could wear one costume forever – what would it be?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > General > Ficlet Collections - Other(Past Donor)VesicaFR133733052,2803 Nov 063 Nov 06Yes

I - Kendra & Wash (Firefly)

Costumes You Wear When You’re Dead - Series Notes: For some reason I got thinking about an afterlife where will became reality and bits of life could be relived – or not – as people chose. What would the dead dress up as? Would they always have a choice? If we could wear one costume forever – how would we want to present ourselves? And thus, these three drabbles.


Title: Costumes You Wear When You’re Dead - I
Author: Vesica
Rating: FR-13/PG
Fandom/Characters: BtVS/Firefly
Fic-For-All Pairing: Kendra & Wash (Firefly)
TthDrabbles Challenge: #45: Come As You Aren't
Disclaimer: Just a bit of mucking about in other people’s sandboxes.
Word count: 200
Summary: Some dreams are hard to outrun.



Time moved oddly in afterlife.

Years went by and it seemed only a moment if you weren’t paying attention.

Maybe that was why some souls never seemed to adjust or how Wash had become a protector of sorts of a girl who had been there far longer than he had.

He had no idea how long he’d been kneeling there, stroking her back, watching her cry.

“Kendra, what is it?”

But she wouldn’t speak - just looked down at her white dress, the sensible shoes, the cold loop of metal around her neck and cried.

Hours – or was it days?- later he heard a soft whisper. “I wanted to a be nurse – before…”

Before she’d found out her destiny.

Before she’d gone to Sunnydale.

Before she’d been murdered.

Her voice was hollow, the sadness long since used up. “I keep trying, but I can’t make it go away.”

Will and reality were a hair’s breadth apart here and that’s why some called it Heaven.

But sometimes, after he’d catch a glimpse of a familiar figure walking away, dark curls gleaming, or his senses were flooded with the smell of engine oil, he’d wonder if it wasn’t someplace else entirely.


END.
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking