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Summary: It was Friday afternoon and she was leaning against the same wall she always leant against. Drabble-fic. COMPLETE

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anita Blake > Buffy-Centered(Past Moderator)FaithUnbreakableFR155436,613106903540,3582 Feb 0830 Mar 08Yes
CoA Winner


A/N: And another one to gloss over the horror that we shall not speak of.




Hours later all three of them were tired, Damien leaning against the headboard of the bed, limbs sprawled willy nilly in a very un-vampiric way. Asher was lying on the other side of the bed, fully stretched out and enjoying the feeling of not hiding his scars, of relaxing. He wasn’t some scary evil master vampire here. He was Asher.

Elisabeth, the source of both vampires’ comfort was leaning next to Damien, her leg over Asher’s. It seemed she had picked up a few things from her shape shifters, such as cuddling unconsciously.

For hours they had talked happily, avoiding the subject of the prophecy by unspoken agreement but now Elisabeth broke it as she commented, “You know, I kinda hoped for answers from that stupid tattoo.”


She shrugged. “Doesn’t happen everyday that a girl gets dumped in a strange dimension and a new body for no reason whatsoever after literally getting blown to hell seconds before. And getting blown up? Not fun.”

Asher sat up, deciding to ignore the ‘blown up’ part for now and focus on the other half. “I have…,” he swallowed, “I have a…theory, if you will, about why you’re here.”

“You do?”

He nodded.

“Well then let’s hear.”

“Wishes,” he said, drawing in a deep breath. He had spent many nights thinking about this but never shared his ideas yet.


“I believe that you were wished here, directly and indirectly.”

She frowned, bending back a bit, as if putting distance between herself and what Asher was suggesting. “By who?”

“Everyone. Jean-Claude wished for enough power to ensure the Council stays away. Monsieur Richard wished for someone to show him how to compromise between his two lives. Your boys all wished for someone to keep them safe, as did Damien, I believe.”

The other vampire nodded shyly. Elisabeth’s face had turned unreadable.

“Anita has been wishing for someone to…take attention of her, if you can phrase it that way. Micah has wished to make the Coalition as good as possible. And these are only the wishes I know you influenced directly. Nathaniel wished to feel safe and I think he has accomplished that through the time he has recently spent with Micah. Anita’s pard wanted more attention from her and thanks to her fight with Jean-Claude, they have it. Your presence in this city, this world, seems to have fulfilled the dreams and wishes of a lot of people. I believe you were placed here, to help. Your mere presence here…”

He trailed off. Her face was hard and cold as stone. Wordlessly she stood, dropping the blanket on the bed and grabbing her purse before turning toward the door.

“Elisabeth…,” Damien tried and trailed off again as she turned cold cold eyes on him.

“What,” she hissed, ”What the hell do you want? I fulfilled you wish, didn’t I? Fuck what I want, fuck that I fought all my life and wanted some peace, fuck that I was dead. Everybody’s happy, who gives a shit what I want, right? Right? I should have seen this earlier!”

She didn’t yell. Instead her voice grew quieter and quieter until it was barely a whisper. She was angry. So very angry and hurt. Her pain was strong enough that the smell of it was turning Asher’s stomach because they knew, had known when he stared speaking, that his words were the truth. They were as true as the ink on her back. As true as Damien’s need to translate the tattoo or Asher’s pull to the tiny woman. It was divine.

But what was he supposed to say?

The door slammed shut behind her with enough force to shake the frame.

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