Minor Oedipal Complex
My father had to be the luckiest man alive.
Well, not alive, because he was dead. But still, he was the
luckiest creature on this planet. Not only was he the only vampire
in this world being given a free ticket, he had to be friends with
the most beautiful women in existence.
And they all loved him.
Every single last one of these women adored my father. Fred,
she practically worshipped the ground that my father walked on. It
was always, Angel this and Angel that. I don't know how Gunn ever
managed to put up with it. All that woman ever talked about was how
much she owed Angel for saving her from Pylea. She made a good
point, but she made it so often. If my father was so great, why
didn't Fred just chase after him instead of putting Wesley and Gunn
through this jealous thing they were doing? It would be the nice
thing to do, since neither one of them was ever going to match up to
the greatness of Angel in her mind.
Cordelia. Well, what could I say about Cordelia? Angel was
everything to Cordelia, even though it was my child she was pregnant
with. By the way, that whole situation is leaving me kind of
uneasy. I want to tell people about it, but she won't tell me. It's
kind of strange the way she keeps insisting on keeping it quiet.
Actually, Cordelia's been acting strange overall for the past week or
so. She keeps snapping at me, but then again, maybe it really is
those mood-swings that pregnant women have.
But again, we're focusing on how she loves Angel, right? And
she does, sickeningly so. Every other word out of her mouth is
Angel. She just has to know what he's doing, every single minute of
every day. And she gets so jealous, of everyone. When that Gwen
woman was around, I swear, I thought she was going to start spitting
nails. Cordelia was so in love with my father that I think I chased
after her just to spite both of them. Whatever, it was all too
complex for me to figure out.
And then there was Lilah. Technically, that woman had been
in love with Wesley, but didn't she ever have an obsession with my
dad. Of course, her obsession was born out of her evil plans
involving the end of the world and the like, but still. She spent a
lot of her time thinking on dear old dad.
Faith herself was another woman lost to the charms of my old
man. Except it wasn't really a love sort of thing, more of an
idolizing sort of thing. My dad was her model of good behaviour, the
way she was going to find redemption. That was a load of crock in my
opinion. My dad, soul or not, was a demon. He wasn't going to be
some sort of shining example of humanity because he wasn't human.
And that had nothing to do with my whole bitterness against
Angel thing. No, it was common sense. There was no way my dad could
be the all around wholesome figure Faith wanted. He was a VAMPIRE
for Christ's sake. And a vampire, by his very nature, is evil. Dad
may be a slight exception, but he is still a vampire. If Faith
wanted to idolize someone on her way to redemption, she might want to
look to someone else because she was bound to be let down at some
point. Vampires, no matter how cursed or not, would never be saints.
And finally, today, I met the latest in the string of women
who adore my father. Willow. A redheaded witch from the Hellmouth
who was entirely too beautiful to have that much black magic in her.
Holtz had always taught me that witches were evil things, creatures
that coveted with the Devil and deserved to be burned alongside with
all the demons.
He might have changed his mind if he had gotten the chance to
see Willow. I know I did.
There was no way someone that gorgeous could be evil. And
I'm not talking about outer beauty, though that is a great factor.
I've heard stories about this girl, about her generosity and caring
nature, and they all failed to do her justice. She was sweet,
friendly, and had this tendency to go on and on about whatever came
to mind first.
She was, in essence, the definition of cute. I hadn't really
understood `cute' until I met her. Cordelia and Fred love telling me
how `cute' I had been as a child, but I didn't see it. I mean, they
showed me pictures. My face was all small and wrinkly. I had no
hair for one thing, and I was always sleeping. How was that `cute'?
No, Willow was cute. She was flat out the cutest thing in
the world. Hell, the way she greeted me, in all my inherited
surliness, was proof of that. All wide-eyed and smiles when she
looked up at me, identified me, and then made some remarks about my
appearance. I'm not really all that androgynous, am I? And as for
this sneer, I developed it on my own. No way could my father take
credit for this facial expression. It took me seventeen years to get
it to the point where demons used to cower when faced with it. My
sneer, not Angel's.
But I didn't have time to tell her that. She was too busy
off, talking excitedly with Fred and then Wesley, skipping up to
Cordelia's room for a chat before coming up with a way to restore
Angel's soul. Another really cute thing about Willow-her mind never
stopped working. One second she was just casually catching up with
Cordelia, and the next, she had the solution to all our troubles. I
tried to follow her train of thought during her strategy session with
Fred, but even I couldn't keep up with it. So I just held the
candles like instructed and sneered my own distinct sneer.
And presto! About ten minutes later, she had Angel's soul
out and about, ready to stick back into my father's body. The
appearance of the scary demon head thingy didn't even faze her while
Cordelia, one the bravest people I have known, was shaking in its
leave. Talk about strength.
By the end of the day, everything had been wrapped up all
nice and pretty. Angel was back (I'm still not sure how I feel about
that) and Faith was all right, back to full Slayer strength- I found
that out personally. And it was all because of this amazing little
redhead from Sunnydale.
She left entirely too soon for my liking. I wanted her to
stay, to be around when we faced off against our own big evil. She
would be useful to have around, to say the least. She was
incredible, in her magic and her presence. Just a couple of hours in
LA and she brought our lives back into order. She should stay, or I
should go with her. There was still so much I didn't know about her,
so many things I wanted to ask her, and possibly, get a few kisses
out of the deal.
Hey, I'm eighteen. What do you expect?
But she was leaving, and taking Faith with her. There was
this whole emotional goodbye thing that I was left out of. Not that
it bothered me or anything, I'm just saying, those two girls were all
anxious to say goodbye to my dad without sparing me another glance.
Okay, not true. Faith gave me a playful threat before
leaving. That might have been her version of a heartfelt parting, I
don't know. That girl was strange, even for me. Must be the Slayer
Willow, well, she was all smiles for everyone, but especially
for my father. With a grin to everyone, she said goodbye, but for my
father, she had a hug and a kiss. If there was ever a moment of
weakness in which I wished to be my father, that was it. She hugged
him! As in put her arms around him, without fear, and pressed her
lips against his cheek. And he didn't even flinch! Just smiled
back, like it was an everyday thing for him to be hugged by such an
incredibly sexy woman.
Oh yeah, it was. Hence bringing me back to the reason for
this rather long rant. My father was the luckiest bastard in this
world. All these gorgeous women, idolizing him or in love with him.
It was so unfair to the rest of us men out there because we couldn't
garner a second glance from these girls. And it's not like he could
make anything of all their attention. Any action for dad and he's
back to being evil. And I know that for a fact, Fred told me all
about the loopholes in his curse.
Of course, that was the poetic justice of it all. Maybe the
gypsies had seen all this coming, you know, the beautiful women who
just clamoured to him. And in seeing that, they made it so that he
wouldn't be able to enjoy a bit of it. I wouldn't put it past them,
after all, they seemed very vicious when they were up to it.
Thinking about it that way, I felt a little better. Not
great, but better. But it still wasn't fair. Wasting all those
beauties on a man-well, not technically even a man-who could not
enjoy them. There was something cosmically wrong with the universe.
You know what? I'm too screwed up. Wanting to kill my
father, sleeping with my surrogate mother, and wanted to sleep with
any other female my father ever had contact with.
Angelus was right. There should be a play. I could be lead
and then maybe I'll meet some women who were actually interested in
me. That is, if they weren't too put off with the whole sleeping
with my kind of mother thing.
Whatever, my life sucks. I'm going to bed to dream of
redheaded witches. Maybe things will be better in the morning.