charliewhiskey (
charliewhiskey) wrote in
fandomweekly2016-02-19 08:56 pm
Entry tags:
[#003] A Drunken Dream (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
Theme Prompt: Domestic Bliss
Title: A Drunken Dream
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 420
Summary: Illyria has just come into being.
Wesley had fallen asleep again. The liquor was fueling a drunken sleep which fueled blissful dreams. The scotch didn’t make the waking hours more tolerable. It only allowed him to go into another sleep where he could dream of being with her.
His dreams always started at the same time, same place. At the top of the stairs in the Wolfram & Hart lobby. Fred and Lorne had just come from Lorne’s office and Fred was singing “You Are My Sunshine.” Lorne had started it, Fred had continued and then she had paused expecting Wesley to finish. He didn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the words, but he loved the sound of her voice too much to finish.
His dreams always varied after this point. He reckoned that his imagination was running with all the ways that the day could’ve gone. Basically anything that didn’t involve the truth. He could’ve taken her out to that dinner he’d planned. He could’ve shown her a new text that he was deciphering. They could’ve stayed up late watching old movies, called in sick tomorrow and stayed in bed in the morning.
They were silly little dreams, but he knew she would’ve smiled and looked at him with her adorning eyes. Now that he knew what that look was, he loved it. He wondered how many times she’d given it to him and he’d missed it. Truth was, he didn’t need movies or the Sunday newspaper to be happy. He could’ve been a blissful man if only he’d had a life with Fred. He wondered if what Angel had felt with Buffy was anything like watching Fred’s face light up when she smiled.
An ache suddenly tightened in his chest and his mind quickly raced to find a peaceful moment again. But a crash of glass snapped Wesley out of his dream. He wasn’t worried what the noise was, but he was now awake.
He looked around and saw Illyria. She was standing in one place, but her limbs were jolting around as if feeling out each nerve ending in a spasm. She was holding the remnants of a glass that was on the nightstand, and was now shattered on the floor. Her head, like her body, twisted and jerked as she inspected what she’d done.
God, he hated her. He took another swig of the scotch direct from the bottle. There was no point in using a glass now. He wanted anything to be back asleep with Fred on his mind again.
Title: A Drunken Dream
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 420
Summary: Illyria has just come into being.
Wesley had fallen asleep again. The liquor was fueling a drunken sleep which fueled blissful dreams. The scotch didn’t make the waking hours more tolerable. It only allowed him to go into another sleep where he could dream of being with her.
His dreams always started at the same time, same place. At the top of the stairs in the Wolfram & Hart lobby. Fred and Lorne had just come from Lorne’s office and Fred was singing “You Are My Sunshine.” Lorne had started it, Fred had continued and then she had paused expecting Wesley to finish. He didn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the words, but he loved the sound of her voice too much to finish.
His dreams always varied after this point. He reckoned that his imagination was running with all the ways that the day could’ve gone. Basically anything that didn’t involve the truth. He could’ve taken her out to that dinner he’d planned. He could’ve shown her a new text that he was deciphering. They could’ve stayed up late watching old movies, called in sick tomorrow and stayed in bed in the morning.
They were silly little dreams, but he knew she would’ve smiled and looked at him with her adorning eyes. Now that he knew what that look was, he loved it. He wondered how many times she’d given it to him and he’d missed it. Truth was, he didn’t need movies or the Sunday newspaper to be happy. He could’ve been a blissful man if only he’d had a life with Fred. He wondered if what Angel had felt with Buffy was anything like watching Fred’s face light up when she smiled.
An ache suddenly tightened in his chest and his mind quickly raced to find a peaceful moment again. But a crash of glass snapped Wesley out of his dream. He wasn’t worried what the noise was, but he was now awake.
He looked around and saw Illyria. She was standing in one place, but her limbs were jolting around as if feeling out each nerve ending in a spasm. She was holding the remnants of a glass that was on the nightstand, and was now shattered on the floor. Her head, like her body, twisted and jerked as she inspected what she’d done.
God, he hated her. He took another swig of the scotch direct from the bottle. There was no point in using a glass now. He wanted anything to be back asleep with Fred on his mind again.

no subject
Tee hee