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Hands

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Summary: Fred ends up in a place where she can be of the most help.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Movies > Edward ScissorhandsechoFR711,2413132,42728 Jun 0428 Jun 04Yes
title: Hands
author: echo
rating: 7
summary: Fred ends up in a place where she can be of the most help. (20 minute Fred)
spoilers: Season 5 Angel thru "Hole in the World"
disclaimer: Not mine. Fred belongs to Joss Whedon. Edward belongs to Tim Burton and Caroline Thompson.
crossing: Ats/Edward Scissorhands
note: I was just watching Edward Scissorhands one night and saw the Rube Goldberg machines Vincent Price's character had built and thought to myself... Fred would love that. It grew from there.

*~*~*~*~*

It was like her dream.

And if she didn't miss Wesley so horribly, she'd swear this was heaven. She was in a creepy old house on a hill... only she didn't think it was creepy. She thought it was wondrous. That might have had to do a bit with all the machinery in parts of the mansion. She didn't know how or why she was there. All she knew was there she was. There were so many things to figure or fix here.

It had taken her days to get one of the larger machines working. A Rube Goldberg machine. That's what it was called. It was a machine that was made of several parts. It went through a complicated series of events to complete a rather simple task. A convoluted system to achieve a simple result. There were dozens of them in here. It reminded her of the beginning to 'Back to the Future'. Fred had always wanted to live in Doc Brown's house.

The big one made cookies. She took girlish delight in that. There were so many things to fix or finish building in this house, it took her almost two weeks of being there to realize she was not there alone.

At first she'd heard noises. She blamed it on the old house shifting. Then she'd seen shadows out of the corner of her eyes. And most recently, she had seen a figure running up to the attic. She wasn't the bravest girl ever, but Fred couldn't stand not knowing.

She decided to visit the attic.

She had never been up there. It seemed like a forbidden place.

Fred grabbed a giant wrench from the tool box, just in case, and she took the stairs quickly. Fred pushed the door to the attic open slightly with her foot. She stuck her head in.

Half of the roof seemed to have fallen down. She entered cautiously with her wrench raised high. As she looked around, she realized parts of the room looked... lived in. She thought she'd been in this big house all alone.

"Hello?" Stupid, stupid, stupid. The one that went to check stuff out and called 'hello' usually got it from the psycho slasher shortly after in the horror movies.

"Hello." It had been whispered.

Behind her.

Fred spun about, swinging the wrench. "Stay back. Back!"

"Ok."

It was such a sweet and gentle voice. Fred lowered her wrench. She could make out his silhouette in the dark corner.

"Are you here alone?"

"No." There was a great pause. "You're here too... with the wrench."

He sounded scared. Fred smiled and crouched down. She set the wrench down. She stood and wiped her hands off on the apron she's found in the kitchen.

"There. No more wrench. I'm harmless as I'm gonna get. Come on out, and let's have a look at my roommate."

As he shuffled out into the light, Fred gasped. She dropped and grabbed the wrench. She held it up before her with both hands. Hands that were trembling. At that, the guy stopped walking abruptly.

If he could even be classified as a guy.

It was then that Fred realized he was not simply holding a bunch of knives or blades. He didn't have hands. She dropped the wrench in shock.

He had scissors. For his hands.

He was also wearing this weird leather bondage outfit. He was rail thin. The skin on him that was visible was anemia-pale and scarred. His hair was jet black and looked a bit Einstein-y.

"Oh my."

"I won't hurt you." He said meekly. "Well, I won't mean to hurt you."

Fred just stared.

"I'm Edward."

"Winifred. Fred."

"Hello, Winifredfred."

She giggled. "No, just Fred."

"Fred."

"So... you live here... alone then?"

"No. You're here."

"But if I weren't?"

"Yes."

"Did you make all this stuff?"

"Stuff?" Edward asked. "No, my... father did. You've been fixing all of it. Maybe you could fix me too."

Fred's eyebrows furrowed. "Fix you?"

He held up his scissorhands. Fred gasped and jumped back a bit.

"Sorry." He murmured.

"S'ok, Edward. It'll just take some getting used to."

"He was supposed to make me hands... then he went to sleep and didn't wake up."

Fred's heart twisted. She knew why she was here now. She was very good at making things, figuring things. She had not died. Not really. She was still continuing the mission she'd adopted from Angel. She was helping the hopeless.

"Perhaps I could make you hands?"

"You?"

"I'm pretty good at figuring things out. If there's a way to do it, I'll try real hard to find it. Would you want that?"

"Yes." It was whispered so low, she almost didn't hear.

"All right. I'll start looking through more of those notes I saw. There's gotta be something there, right?"

He smiled at her. Fred grinned.

"And have you been eatin'? You look almost as skinny as me, and that's bad. I was trapped in an alternate dimension and food was hard to come by."

"Alternate dimension?"

"It's a long story." She grinned. "But I suppose we got some time. Come on. I'll see what there is to fix besides cookies."

"But, Fred..." Edward held up his scissorhands again.

This time she didn't flinch. "I'll be your hands 'til you got some of your own."

"Thank you." He mumbled.

"Don't you think on it. It's what I do."

"What you do?"

" 'Sides make stuff and math problems. I learned how to help the hopeless in my last life."

"I'm hopeless?"

"Not anymore, Edward. You should have lotsa hope now. I came to you here, just like Angel came to me in Pylea." Then she said almost to herself. "It's the same. It's my turn to be the 'handosme man'."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, Edward. Just have hope."

"Then I have hope now. Will you tell me how you learned about hope?"

"Sure will."

They made their way to the kitchen finally, and Fred started scavenging.

"It all started back when I was in school. I worked at the library. You ever been to any sort of school?"

"No, but I lived in the suburbs for a little while. I don't like waterbeds."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "You know... me neither. I get seasick."

"I get wet." Edward held up his scissors.

Fred giggled. "I'll bet that's an adventure. What do you want to eat?"

"Anything I can..." He made a skewering motion.

"I already said I'd be your hands."

"Anything then."

"Hmm." Fred started grabbing cans. "Now what were we talking about before?"

"You were talking about you and the library."

"Right. So I picked up this book and read from it, and bam, I was in a whole other place."

"A whole other place?"

"Mmm. It wasn't nice. Not like here. They called people cows there."

"Cows?"

"Cows. And there were no tacos. It was terrible."

"Tacos?"

"There ARE tacos here, aren't there?" She asked with a bit of panic.

Edward considered. "Yes. There are tacos."

"Oh goodie."

The conversation continued like that well into the night. Fred told her other life... and Edward just listened and questioned a bit.... because he loved a good story.

*~*~*

end ficlet

The End

You have reached the end of "Hands". This story is complete.

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