lvpd_sidle | Perchance to Dream

"We saved each other, Sara. Don't ever forget that." He reaches out and touches her hand softly for but a second. He still loves her, but this time he can't say that. This time he knows that he needs to clear the path for something new.

"Gil with two gods to raise...how's Georgia?

"How's everyone else, for that matter? I see that the place is still standing, so I assume that Ray's been behaving." A change of topic for the moment will do him a little good.

"Georgia's fine. A little scamp. I think she'll be running around before long. Funny you should mention the Bar still standing..."

It's easy to talk about Barmageddeon, the latest weirdness involving the chocolate bars, the assorted new arrivals to Milliways. It's easy and it's hard, because so much of what she's experienced, she would have wanted to share with him.

And she can't. They can't.

Knowing their time was limited from the start didn't spare them from wanting more.

Barry takes it in, takes in the weirdness and the big things and the little. He is particularly amused to hear that Captain - or is it Admiral? - Kirk - is around, and not sure if it's a good thing or a bad that Mikey is co-equals with Bernard.

And all the while, he watches Sara, sees the joy and the confusion and the anguish and the life, even as she is trying very hard not to wake Mark. And he misses this more than he can say.

"And what about Eska?" It's the one name he hasn't heard, the one person he misses almost as much Sara.

"I haven't seen her since before...before you left," she says quietly, looking down. "She may have lost her door."

He nods. "It's possible. But if you ever do see her, say hello. Also say hi to Ray for me? He's the only person here who I think would find me saying hello to be normal." Memories of the times the three of them compared notes run through his mind.

He then takes a breathe. "Tell me about Mark?"

"I will." She looks back down at Mark. He still hasn't let go of her hand.

"Bohemian filmmaker--and yes, that surprised the hell out of me. He made a documentary spanning a year in the lives of his friends and himself. The public declared it fiction and he won five Oscars--which he's still boggling over." A pause, and her voice goes softer. "He makes me feel safe, cherished. He wouldn't ever hurt me. He makes me laugh and for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of that."

"You have a nice laugh, you know. It's good that he can hear it.

"It's good that he makes you feel that way. Because you are worth cherishing. And any man who can do that is a good man, I would say." She's happy. And that is all that matters.

"And an Oscar winner isn't a bad thing, either. And if he ever lets it go to his head, I know someone who will stop that in a hurry."

She laughs, shaking her head. "He won't--and I wouldn't be the only one knocking delusions out of his head. Angel--don't know if you ever met him--wields a mean set of heels."

Barry looks puzzled. "I don't think I know him. But I'll take your word for it.

"Have you set a date?"

"Sometime in late March, I think. We haven't picked a specific one."

She won't have it in February. Too many memories.

"And it's now...?" Few things perplex a time taveller more than not knowing the time.

"It'll be Halloween in a couple of days."

"Boo?" He wonders if that's why he's here. "Does he know about what happens here on Halloween?" There is a glint of mischief as Barry remembers how Bar dressed Sara once upon a time.

"Sounds like you have plenty of time to plan for the wedding. That's good. Are you making it here?"

"Oh, he's more than aware of that. Last year, Bar apparently turned him into his roommate." She smirks back, remembering last year. It had been fun.

"We'll have one ceremony here, and one in New York with his family. Mostly to keep his mother off his back, more than anything else."

"New York...you're marrying a New Yorker?" Barry isn't really serious, though his midwestern farmboy biases never went away even after death. "Please tell me he's at least a Mets fan."

"I...actually don't know. I don't think he really cares about sports."

Barry makes a face of fake disapproval. And then stifles a laugh.

"There are worse fates than to marry a New Yorker. And don't worry about his mother. Let her have the wedding. It's not what matters." He wonders if Mark's mother, judging by the name, is a New York Jewish mother, but he's not the kind to ask such things.

"She means well but...I hope it isn't wrong to hope she never finds the bar." Suspicion's probably confirmed by now. "The one here won't be traditional--but I'm really not sure what traditional means anymore."

Barry opens and closes his mouth. Once, he would have had many, many thoughts about traditional. He stil does, in fact, but he also knows that there is much more to life.

"Knowing this place, it will probably quite something to see. And no matter what, the bride will be beautiful."

Barry then sems to flicker for a moment.

She notices and closes her eyes, head lowering. "Almost out of time?" she says quietly, but it's not really a question.

"Almost." He doesn't want to go, but he knows that the longer he stays, the harder it will be to leave. "The Speed Force calls, as always.

"But I'm glad it let me out this once. It's good to see you. Good to see you happy." He gets up and stands next to Sara.

"I love you, Sara Sidle, and I always will. And I wish you the best of lives with Mark. I hope that if you have kids, they give you nothing but joy. And that if you choose to be just aunt and uncle to Gil's kids, that you spoil them rotten."

"Thank you, Barry," she says quietly, touching his hand, but not taking it. Knowing it would only hurt worse. "And I will always love you, always be thankful I found you. My children will know of you."

Barry can only smile. He wants to give her one more hug, but that would do no one any good, really. He is content to fee her hand one more time.

"Who knows? Maybe with any luck, whtaever let me in will bring me back again for Halloween every year?" He doubts it, but he's always been an optimist.

He flickers again, and for longer.

"Oh...one more thing, speaking of kids. I really don't know why I know this, but I think Bart's taken over for Wally. Complete with one of my old costumes. Always knew he head in in him." He beams, proud of his grandson.

"Doesn't surprise me in the least. I'll know he'll do honor to your legacy." She smiles at him. "Thank you."

For coming back. For being happy for me. For loving me.

"Thank you." He smile is as bright as it was when he woke her. Just seeing her smile is all he needs for the return to the great race of his afterlife.

The flicker becomes a slow fade, almost like the Cheshire Cat in red.

"Be well, my darling. Tell Mark that I'm glad he found you. And get some sleep..."

There is a blink, like lightning, and he is gone. If he was ever really there.

[ooc: and thank you for this blast from the past!]

She blinks......and sits up. There are no indentations in the chair. Mark is sleeping next to her, peacefully.

Laying back down, she's not surprised to find that her pillow is wet.

[ooc: Thank you!]

Perchance to Dream

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject