 Like that Alanis Song: inside the mind of vamp Harmony |
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by Liz Barr written August 2001, posted October 2001 rated [PG-13]
notes: and when one or more hours
are set aside for leisure, thus fanfic will appear.
*** It's like that Alanis song, y'know? Not the one about scratching your nails down your lover's back, although Spikey and I did plenty of that. I mean the other song, the rain on your wedding day song. Irony. That's it. Because I'm gonna be young and luscious forever, but I can't see myself in mirrors. Like rain on your wedding day? It's worse. Way worse. Not that I mind being, you know, a vampire, because, hello! Gorgeous here. Everyone says so. But still … it's so annoying! I was tempted to turn Cordy, because then we could, you know, hang, and do each other's hair and makeup and stuff. Plus, there'd be that sire/baby vamp thingie, and maybe *then* she'd apologise for stealing my boyfriend in the tenth grade, even though I didn't really like him, 'cos he had, like psoriasis or something, and it was way gross. So I was gonna turn Cordy. But then I realised that I'd be competing with her for, like, *ever*, and she'd always be winning. I mean, she had all that money, and even after Xander-wanna-dick Harris dumped her, she looked fantastic. And she made that crack about not knowing Prada from Payless, and *okay,* I made a mistake once, but we weren't *born* knowing designer labels. So I decided not to turn Cordy. I'll go back and visit when she's old and disgusting, and maybe *then* she'll apologise. But … this whole vamp thing is kind of dull without someone to share it with. Even if he did want me to dress up like the Slayer … and my *god,* if that's what he wanted, couldn't he have stolen some clothes worth wearing? Not that I could have fit into them. She's so scrawny -- I bet she has a killer workout routine. Hey! That was like a pun! Way to go, Harm! I bet I could keep my weight down if I was the Slayer. I'm sure this all-blood diet is going to my hips, but I *need* a mirror… Isn't it ironic. Don't ya think?
Copyright © 2001 Elizabeth M.
Barr
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