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#32 - Lightning

#32 - Lightning

Anya winced as the clap of thunder shook the hospital ceiling. Words simply could not begin to describe how much she'd come to loathe this place - jokes about communism aside - and it only seemed to get worse with each visit she'd had to make during her final years as a human; Joyce "saved', Joyce dead, Tara insane, Tara dead, Xander hurt...

She leaned back in her chair, trying to come up with a train of thought that didn't end with her trying to figure out how she'd wound up here, when she should have been a corpse. Instead, she'd somehow wound up here, to this time, this place, this very room, and she didn't even know why...

On the plus side, it didn't look like things had the potential to go bad just yet...

The door opened.

"Easy there, child, I'm not going to hurt you. ...What's your name?"

"...Anya."


"James?"

The dark-haired man smiled. "It's a boy."

She followed him through the door as the doctor passed the child to Patricia. James made his way around to the bed, wrapping an arm around his wife and smiling fondly down at his son.

"Anya, this is Tim..."

"Tim?"

"Timothy James Curry."

Anya smiled. "Tim Curry..."

...Tim Curry?!

What have I gotten myself into?

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