Just come and open up your folding chair next to me

Destiny adjusted her red apron and fixed her hair in the little mirror in the employee lounge. Christmas Eve. Why on God's green Earth was she working on Christmas Eve? She was still the new girl. Everyone still thought she was eighteen and in high school, despite the fact that she, at least the self that had made it here, was in her late twenties. She did, however, get the lucky present of stocking the shelves and tidying up the aisles. What had they called it? Stock control? Damage control? She didn't remember the corporate world technical term for it. What it meant for her, however, was much in the way of hoisting and carrying boxes. Slayer strength helped a lot in this instance.

Destiny stretched her arms out and stretched her one leg at a time parallel to her head. Twenty-four years of Slaying in a young body? Had its perks. She hadn't Slayed in months, but, she promised herself, she would pick it up again after the Christmas rush. The Slayer took a deep breath, smiled for the mirror, and entered into the Christmas-colored, Jingle Bells-playing bookstore proper.

God, I hate Christmas carols.

Jingle Bells was the worst. As she turned the pages of a book in the historical section, Rhiannon tried to tune it out. It was the staying power she didn't like. Hours after she heard the song, it'd be on a loop in her head while she ate dinner, walked the neighborhood, or took a shower. The only thing capable of canceling it out was another song.

Slipping her finger between chapters, the brunette closed the cover and read the back panel of the book on the Gulf War . History was a tricky concept now. It was almost identical, but not quite, and it hadn't been her strong point anyway. She tucked it back in its place and wandered into the horror section, thumbs hooked in the hip pockets of her jeans. At a collection of Stephen King books, she crouched and drummed a light rhythm on the toes of her boots, which she'd long-ago drawn on in silver marker.

Destiny dodged a small child throwing a tantrum in the Children's section and ducked under the ropes to get behind the register bank. The Slayer scooped up a handful of forgotten books from behind the register in the "To Be Reshelved" bin and rifled through her arms to figure out where they went. Ah, lovely. Stephen King. Exactly what everyone wants to read when it's Christmas outside. Though I guess if you take "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" to heart, people do tell "scary ghost stories".

Behind that was a Dora the Explorer book, some new Disney teen sensation board book to indoctrinate the masses to the all powerful Mouse, and a book for expectant mothers. If there was one thing that she did enjoy about her store it was the varied clientele. After living in a desert area whose median age was sixty, she almost didn't mind the small children. Almost.

Poking her head into the Horror aisle, she scanned the shelves for the author. Alphabetical by author... Head down, she didn't notice when she bumped into a figure down near the floor. "Whoops! I'm sorry, ma'am!"

Slapping a palm on the carpet, Rhiannon managed to catch herself. "It's alright," she said. "I'm the one crawling all over the floor." She made sure she hadn't bent or torn the paper cover of Delores Claiborne and found it thankfully undamaged, as she hadn't intended to purchase it. The whole venture into Stephen King land was a way of distracting herself from the greater problem: Less than twenty-four hours until Christmas morning and she had no clue what to give Connor. You're over-thinking it, she told herself for the dozenth time.

Rhiannon glanced up at the brown-haired woman, and then she did a double-take.

Her mouth dropped open. Swallowing, she closed it as quickly as possible and redirected her eyes to the row of books. They skimmed the titles, reading nothing. Her pulse was in her ears all the sudden, louder than the carols on the loudspeaker. It's Destiny... Holy shit. That is definitely Destiny. What the fuck do I do?!

Holy shit, Rhiannon! But is this Rhiannon who knows the past or new Rhiannon? Should she ask? How awkward would that be? "Hi, Rhiannon, remember kicking my ass?" Destiny closed her agape mouth and decided to gird her loins and go for the direct. If she remembered nothing, she could pretend the earpiece she was wearing directed her to another part of the store, then hide in a corner 'til the coast was clear. She just had to phrase it quite right. She bit her lip as her mind raced. She opened her mouth and prayed that what she was going to say was going to be more delicate than what she was thinking.

"Hi, Rhiannon. Remember kicking my ass?" Damn. There was something about Rhiannon that made her feel seventeen again. "Oh, damn it." Also, she had a habit of saying exactly what she was thinking at that exact moment. "That sounded so much better in my head." Liar.

The other Slayer looked up again. Hope sparked in her chest, but she tried not to get carried away. An asskicking could happen anywhere, on any timeline. "That depends," she said, squeezing the paperback. She was definitely bowing it now, definitely damaging the merchandise in front of an employee. "Did it happen here or in Nevada? I forget."

Rhiannon held her breath. It had been years since she saw Destiny, but she missed her, the idea of being able to call her up in New Jersey and ask how things were going, if she was still in school, if she was married yet, if she had been on patrol lately. "There was a slight relocation."

"Nevada, in the year 2009. Regularly, for years afterwards, same place. Then I moved to New Jersey. I was relocated too. My wedding night, for fuck's sake." Destiny sighed, and dropped to her knees next to Rhiannon. "I missed you. I miss Searchlight." She steadied herself on a shelf. "Emmy's not the same." Destiny felt the pinpricks of tears, unbidden, considering how happy she was in the former life. She had accepted all that had transpired. Seeing Emmy had torn her wounds open again, like ripping a scab off. "Have you seen anyone else? I mean, besides me?"

"Hey..." She put her hands on either side of Destiny's neck, just where it met the shoulders, and lightly squeezed. "It's okay." Rhiannon scooted a little closer and smiled, which felt completely inappropriate to her friend's tears, but she couldn't help it. "God, I'm glad to see you." She leaned in and gave a hug. "We're not here alone. Connor came too. I can't even remember if you knew him or not, but he's from home. So are Purity and Izzy."

There were at least five other familiar faces, not counting Emmeline, whom she hadn't even known was in Key West, but it made perfect sense for her to be, if the rest were. Rhiannon didn't mention the others, because some weren't the same people they remembered and that wasn't a positive spin on the situation. Neither was the fact that some were enemies.

"We'll find more," she said instead. The comment about her wedding night hit a sore spot in Rhiannon's chest, but she ignored it. "Destiny, bad shit's always happening to you on important nights, did you ever notice that?" She tried injecting a note of humor into things.

Destiny snorted and hugged Rhiannon back. The feeling was somewhat foreign, as she didn't remember hugging Rhiannon any time recently. "Yeah, my birthday sucked in '03 because of the Scythe thing. I got taken hostage one Christmas, was in a huge battle another Christmas. I lost my virginity to a reanimated corpse I married in Vegas..." Destiny made a face. "Jesus, that sounds disgusting without the backstory, now doesn't it? God, that's not even half the shit I've gone through. Seriously, I can't have a major life event or holiday without some crazy activity or injury or apocalypse. I'm terrified of a Rosemary's Baby type deal when I eventually have children."

Destiny's eyebrows furrowed. "I think I remember you mentioning Purity. Don't remember Izzy. Connor I remember from all of the assigned reading Will gave me about where Slayers come from." Destiny said the last three words in a baby voice, comparing it to "where people come from". She ran her hand through her hair. "Did they remember who they were? Emmy... didn't remember. I don't know what hurt worse. That she didn't remember me or that I remember everything in perfect detail. I mean, how could she not remember Aidan?"

Shaking her head, the Slayer laughed a little. "This crazy doohickey that sent us here... as long as it sticks to alive people, I'll be cool. That'd be all I'd need..." Destiny trailed off, lost in thought. "I guess we're all different now, anyway. We just remember."

After the onslaught of information and questions, Rhiannon decided to pick and choose what she responded to, which were the only really relevant parts. "You know what, Des?" She set the book aside and leaned against the stacks, drawing her knees to her chest. "Everybody's got tragedies. You don't want me to go into the litany of mine. I lost things, too. But I'm trying to look at this whole fucked-up experience as a huge lesson I should've learned a long time ago."

She reached across and tugged a piece of Destiny's hair. "Let it go."

Rhiannon rested her arms atop her knees, fingertips dangling loosely towards the floor. "Also, if I ever hear you refer to the Scythe thing in '03 as 'sucking' again, I'm pulling your Slayer card and calling you That Freakishly Strong Girl, period."

"I get it, Rhiannon. I do. I know you, of everyone I know, have had it hard. I didn't want you to think I was whining. I haven't whined or bitched, really, since I left Searchlight. I'd like to think I matured. I just..." Destiny sighed. "I tend to dwell in the past since I met Em. I revert to younger Destiny around you a lot of times. I feel like this whole thing is tossing things into my face that I thought I had left behind. Like, I hadn't dwelled on the Aidan thing or the scythe or anything like that when I was in New Jersey. I liked who I was. I was over it all, or at least to the point where it didn't loom so heavily."

Destiny joined her on the floor, facing her across the aisle, playing with the carpet. "I liked who I was before I came here. I had my shit together. I feel like it undid a lot of my personal growth by tearing open wounds I thought I had closed. To be honest, it's why I didn't contact you guys or make an attempt to when I was in Jersey. If I was with you, I'd have to face it all again."

Destiny looked up. "I'm not saying being a Slayer sucks, 'cause it's who we are. It's just not fair how much we sacrifice because of who we are."

"Who says it's a sacrifice?" Rhiannon lifted her shoulders. "You don't have to do it. You know that better than anybody, right? I could never guilt you into anything." A smile hitched the corner of her mouth. It was an old bone of contention between the two: Rhiannon, who gratefully tossed over everything to be a Slayer, and Destiny, who just wanted it all back. "We get a choice whether to have the most important job in the world or ignore it. Who else can say that? If you ignore it, I won't even give you a hard time."

She held up her hand, like she was swearing an oath.

"It's funny. You saying you revert to younger Destiny? You're older than me." Rhiannon rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye, smearing her mascara. Little marks like centipede legs stayed on her palm.

"More naive Destiny. I dunno..." Destiny smiled. "I guess some things never change, right? I'm always afraid you're going to kick my ass, we get into the same disagreement about Slaying. If we were in Nevada, we'd then get attacked by vampires, one of us would get injured. The other would grow impatient. The monsters would be vanquished, then we'd go home." Destiny grinned, realizing that Rhiannon was really Rhiannon. "That was my litmus test. You are Rhiannon. I am still Destiny. We still disagree as to our calling. The more things change, the more they stay the same, eh?"

Destiny shook her head and fingered her badge. "I'm going to go back to Slaying. Once the Christmas rush is over, I'll get back into Slaying." It was halfhearted. Without Adam or Aidan or anyone from her old life, she didn't feel the need to Slay as much. Maybe it was depression. A missing sense of direction. A purpose. Destiny was a Slayer. It was probably a reason, if not the reason why she was brought here. She didn't have anything else to give this thing but her life. She gave up her husband. She gave up her education. What else did it want?

Destiny cleared her throat. "To tell you the truth, those years in New Jersey where I was able to be part of a large Slaying taskforce organized by my dad were the best because I didn't have the entire weight of the world on my shoulders. My husband knew nothing about Slaying. And as I got into my thirties, I couldn't slay anymore without injuries. I was ready to retire, have some babies, live the dream."

She stretched out her arm and flexed it, studying the contours of her forearm. "I have the body of an early twenties woman, but the heart of a thirty-year old woman. Is there still a space for me? Do they really need me in the fight against the forces of evil?"

"Okay." Rhiannon held up a finger. "A couple of points. I hope I remember them all, because... Jesus, Des. One. Listen to yourself. 'Once the Christmas rush is over, I'll get back into slaying.' It's not like... tapdancing lessons. If the Christmas rush at Borders is more important to you than staking vamps, maybe--"

Ugh, but that was tricky territory, wasn't it? Suggesting another demon fighter leave her stakes in the closet? To detract from that possibility, Rhiannon moved on.

"Nevermind. Point number two. You've never had the entire weight of the world on your shoulders. Matter of fact, you could've been part of a slaying task force in Nevada. Me and Kris weren't exactly playing around. And three, people are always needed in the fight against evil. We're outnumbered and outgunned, and the only thing keeping the bad guys from wiping us out is the fact that there's in-fighting and they can't organize for shit."

After that, Rhiannon needed a big breath. She straightened out her legs, so that her feet were next to Destiny. "Whatever you decide to do, just... don't be a martyr about it. Back home, Destiny's still living the dream. You know that right? We peeled off from our old selves. We don't belong there anymore."

"It's just hard not to be bitter about it. All of it." Destiny grabbed a piece of paper from her pocket and scrawled her address and number on it. "I figure, before I forget, I should give you my address and cell number and all that." She reached out to Rhiannon.

"Old habits die hard. I don't know how trained I am, but I trust you in that you would tell me straight if I wasn't fit for Slaying after all this time. I mean mentally, not physically. So, one day, we should go out and you should put me through Slayer boot camp. I need something to focus on besides the retail hell I now find myself in."

Destiny smiled. "How are you spending Christmas?"

Rhiannon took the paper. She pulled out her cell phone and shot Destiny a quick text so she'd have her number, too. While she was typing, she wondered what she was supposed to say about being 'fit' for slaying. Wasn't that up to the PTBs to decide? From the looks of things, they had chosen Destiny at least twice to do it, so the raw materials had to be there. It was just a matter of how deeply she sank her heels into the ground and fought it.

"I dunno how you think mental boot camp for Slayers works," Rhiannon said wryly. Anyway.

"I'm spending Christmas at home. This home. I live with Connor, so..." She trailed off, unsure what they would do. A few strands of colorful lights had been suction-cupped around their living room windows, but that was as far as either of them had gone. "I'm actually trying to figure out what to give him. I came in here out of desperation. It never used to be this hard, picking things out for him. I just saw and grabbed."

"I have no damn clue how mental boot camp for Slayers works. I'm just trying to go with the flow. Trying being the operative word here." Destiny's cellphone beeped as she received the text. "Why didn't I think of texting you?" she muttered.

Destiny's ears perked up when she heard about the two living together, but decided not to pry. "I won't bother you two then. I'm working Christmas Day anyway. I need more time to sort out my head." Destiny stood up and held an arm out to Rhiannon. "I can help with the gift idea. I always suggest gift cards or maybe even a CD or DVD if no book thrills you. I sincerely doubt he'd be a fan of Twilight. That Edward fellow is a bit poncy for his tastes."

After shelving the book, Rhiannon grasped her friend's hand and stood up. "I can't give him a gift card. It's too impersonal," she said. No, something that said 'I'm thinking of you' and also 'I know you' without embarrassing the hell out of him. What did you give a guy that used to collect parts off the demons he killed? Who wore his old tennis shoes until the soles flapped like talking mouths? Back in Chicago, she would've handed him a weapon and called it good.

"We're thinking of having a New Year's get-together at the house. If we can't get it together for that night, then some other time soon. Would you want to come?" Rhiannon walked up the aisle with her.

"Of course I'd love to go, if you'll have me." Destiny figured she'd be no help in this gifting instance.

No sooner were the words out of her mouth that her walkie talkie blared to life. "Destiny? Cleanup in Children's. ASAP."

Destiny looked at Rhiannon apologetically. "Duty calls."

"Do your thing." The possibilities of what 'clean-up' could mean in the children's section loomed frightening and maybe gross. She tried not to scowl at the imagery. "I'll call you, okay? Bye." She reached out and squeezed Destiny's wrist, then let go. She backed a couple of steps, keeping her friend in sight until the stacks got in the way, then Rhiannon turned around and opened her phone again, intent on texting a message to all the necessary people. 'Another familiar face from NV.'

Destiny lay on her bed, marveling at many things. Thanksgiving with Emmy felt like other Thanksgivings she had shared with her. There was an Aidan-shaped hole in the festivities, and her kitchen table remained unscathed and without shards of beer bottles, so maybe it wasn't exactly just like other dinners with Emmeline Keddle. Destiny couldn't help but smile a little bit. This new Emmy had no idea about just how awful Destiny could get while drunk. Des intended to keep it that way, having sworn off alcoholic drinks shortly after she moved back to New Jersey. The wedding reception, to the chagrin of her father, was dry. Destiny even started seeing a therapist, who tied her excessive drinking to a coping mechanism, though the Slayer didn't think she should have wasted her co-pay to find that out.

Nevertheless, it was enjoyable. She had hugged Emmy at the end, thanking her profusely for the meal. Though she was tempted at many points during the meal to stand on the table and yell "WHY DON'T YOU REMEMBER?", she kept a polite smile on her face and discussed books and current events. Destiny recently got herself a job as a bookseller at the local Borders Express. She cringed, remembering the degree that was now nonexistent in this new environment. Her job wasn't awful, though she was feeling the Christmas crunch. That crunch, starting with her first shift on Black Friday, had left her life without time for anything more than eating and sleeping. Emmy's phone number sat neglected on the island in the kitchen, weighted down by a grapefruit. When she felt more awake, she would call her. Maybe she'll send an e-mail or something. The previous body who she inhabited had a very nice Macbook, sleek and white and sitting on her lap, and a very nice internet connection. That connection allowed her to watch TV via internet, which was a blessed event in her vegetative state.

The dialogue of the program softened as more thoughts came to her head. This was the... fifth or sixth Christmas without snow? Not counting the winters she came home to visit or the Christmases she spent in nondescript hotel rooms across the United States when she was escaping New Jersey in the first place. Destiny let out a short bark of a laugh, tinged with amusement. Destiny, Fate just does not want you to be in New Jersey. She looked at the clock. Five in the morning. The bad thing about landing in Florida is that there is no jet lag, and therefore, five in the morning in Jersey was five in the morning here. One thing that she did notice was that fate had brought her to sandy locales both times. The ocean noise, once lulling her to sleep in seconds, no longer provided soothing white noise.

Destiny closed her laptop, show forgotten, and put it on her nightstand. She lay back and closed her eyes, listening to the steady in and out of the waves. She still could not believe that she lived in a beachhouse on the waves, and that, somewhere in another time, perhaps another Destiny was living with her husband in suburban New Jersey. She flung her arm to the side of her queen sized bed, meeting empty space. That was what she missed most of all from her "old" life. She missed having the warm body to cuddle with. Though in her hometown it was approaching the low 30s, the balmy weather here still allowed for her to wish for someone.

She wondered who else she would encounter here, in this new life. For now, it was "Just keep swimming" until the Christmas rush was over and her life would return to pre-Black Friday levels. Destiny felt the tug of sleep at her consciousness, and let her thoughts drift into the salty breeze.

Destiny stretched out on the beach. The person whose former life she now possessed didn't have any sign of a job. The bungalow was empty, a one bedroom deal within walking distance to the beach. Not knowing what else to do, she grabbed a book from the bookshelf in the living room and made her way to the beach. The bookshelves in that room rivaled the shelves at Unseen Insight. She felt a pang. She hadn't seen Emmeline Keddle since Aidan's funeral. It was way too painful and with the passage of time, they gradually grew apart. Destiny left for Jersey without even saying goodbye. She ran a finger across the ridged spines as she moved towards the open French doors, white sundress billowing in the wind. What did she do in her previous life to wake up in paradise? She caught her naked ring finger out of the corner of her eye. Well, almost paradise.

Shunning her flip-flops, the Slayer sunk her feet into the sand and closed and locked the door behind her. She hung the key around her neck on the rawhide lanyard and walked down the beach. It was gorgeous out, as usual. Finding a quiet stretch of beach, she watched the snorkels of divers bob and weave through the azure sea. She leaned back and closed her eyes, novel forgotten. Breathing deeply, she exhaled and looked out, watching the waves retract into the sea and disappear into the horizon.

There was very little that could keep Emmeline Keddle out of the water these days. She was determined to master her first element by the winter season's end, and with the ocean on all sides, water was in ample supply for a start. She had been out with her snorkel and dive bag again, this time in the shallows off the beach, just observing the brightly colored schools of fish and searching out a stray rock here and there that might prove useful in her craft, for the better part of the afternoon. With Bailey and her father set to arrive for a holiday meal the following evening, she hadn't much time to spare before she needed to begin preparing their feast, but the draw of the ocean was just too much.

Never one for flippers, she swam up to where the water shallowed enough to stand and walked up the surf towards her beach bag and towel in the sand, foregoing a dry-off for just slipping back into a long gypsy-styled skirt and wearing the black halter of her swimsuit as a top. Her hair, long and wet and threatening to dampen her bottom with the free-swinging dripping tendrils, was quickly pulled up messily into a black plastic clip retrieved from her bag, and she started up the beach to comb for shells and whatever other treasures it might yield. Spotting a new face near a vintage beach bungalow, Emmeline paused to offer the stranger a smile.

"Afternoon!" she called cheerfully. "Beautiful day, isn't it? Then, it most often is in the Keys!"

Emmeline Keddle. In a two piece swimsuit. Snorkeling. If Destiny hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would have ridiculed the person who even suggested it, but there her best girl friend in the world was standing. From underneath her palm, the Slayer squinted as the woman got out of the water and draped a skirt around herself, the wetness of the suit and her hair revealing more of Emmy than she had ever seen in her previous life. She reddened slightly. "Em?" She cleared her throat. "Em, is that you?"

Emmeline gave the other woman a puzzled smile. "Oh. I'm do apologize, have we met before? I usually remember most everyone, though I suppose even the best of us can lose track of names and faces with the stream of tourists we get through the island."

She paused in the sand, wondering briefly if she should have fished out her sandals before beginning her trek. Thinking of better of it, she left her sandals tucked safely in her beach bag. After all, she'd gone barefoot most of the summer months already, and preferred to stretch it out as long as possible before resigning herself to shoe-and-sock season.

"I'm Emmeline," she confirmed, holding out one water-pruned hand to the other woman in greeting. "Emmy, if you like, or Em. I'm terribly sorry, I just can't recall your name at all!"

Destiny couldn't close her mouth; it remained slightly agape as she stretched out her hand. "Destiny... Destiny Brown. Des, for short." Visions of an earlier meetings rushed into her brain and she squeezed her eyes closed at the onslaught of emotion. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. Having a bit of an interesting month thus far. It's very nice to... meet you." Or re-meet you. This place is awfully strange. Who knows who else she'd she, if she was finding Emmy. Rhiannon? William? Who else would make it into this dreamworld?

"Oh dear! Have I upset you?" Emmeline asked, noticing the other girl's demeanor. A frown of worry crossed her brow. "I really didn't mean to, honestly. I'm very sorry... Destiny, was it? My what a beautiful name!"

She flashed another smile, balancing her beach bag on her hip and crossing her arms over her chest. "I've often taunted my father, you know, giving me a name you'd find on some ancient church lady back home in Essex! But I suppose it's grown on me, over the years. Oh, do chin up, Destiny. I'd hate to think I've gone and spoiled your holiday."

"No! No, you didn't spoil a thing!" Destiny hastily got up and brushed off her sundress. "I'm not on holiday. I'm a new emigrant." Destiny smiled, not believing her luck. "I've been looking for people to meet. I've become a little bit of a recluse as of lately, so I decided to just relax at the beach with a book." Destiny glanced at the cover. She hadn't really looked at the book she grabbed. "I just randomly picked this book up. By a Tiffany Lancaster." Destiny shrugged and scratched the back of her calf with her other foot. "I haven't read very much lately."

"Are you a local?"

A very faint blush rose to Emmeline's softly freckled cheeks, a pleased smile playing at her lips. Though she never considered her published work to be anything but a bit of fun - nothing to terribly cerebral or important - it always gave her a quiet thrill to see others reading them. She preferred a bit of Stephen King and Charles Dickens for her own pleasure reading, but the romance was so much fun to write.

"I am indeed," she agreed. "I've a small house on Eliza Street, not too far from here. I'd wanted to take a place on the beach myself, but my father is such a worrier, insisted I go at least a bit more inland. Your author there is also a local, from what I've heard."

"Oh? Well, I bet I'll run into her at some point." Destiny smiled. The Slayer's smile faltered a bit. "Your father? Your father is around?" Destiny remembered that Em and her family were not on the best of terms at all. All three, mother, brother and father, were long dead, even before the two had met. Then again, this was not the same Emmeline Keddle. So, it stood to reason that the Keddle family was much different. This was not her Emmy. Her best friend was now a woman whose habits would have branded her a hussy if Emmeline Keddle, Searchlight, Nevada, had seen her. Her last link to Searchlight was lost. Who knows what was going on in this weird-ass... dimension. Outside of Florida, how was life progressing? What the hell did she get herself into? Or what the hell got her into this?

She had to start over. Years of friendship, the good times and the bad times... the really bad times, all of it did not matter anymore in the face of this new Emmeline. She couldn't even call her Em or Emmy. She wasn't her. Her last link to... Aidan... gone. The urge to cry overtook her. She tried to hold it in. New Emmy wouldn't get it. She'd sound crazy. Destiny decided to opt for acting on this one, pulling from acting lessons she hadn't done since high school. "I'm sorry, Emmeline. It's really hard being away from loved ones this time of year. I lost them all pretty recently, and being alone has taken a bit of a toll on me."

"My father lives in St. Augustine on the mainland," Emmeline explained. "My brother, Bailey, as well... when he's not out gallivanting about the country, that is."

Emmeline's eyes widened in abject horror. "Oh! Oh no! I'm so, oh, I'm just terribly sorry, Destiny! I had no idea! And here I am, prattling on about my... oh, goodness me, you poor thing!" She pulled the girl into an impromptu embrace, unable to help herself. The memory of the loss of her mother, though nearly twenty years past, was still fresh enough for an immediate outpouring of sympathy. "You poor thing.." she repeated.

"I know this is not much for comfort, but my father always says that 'friends are the family you make for yourself', and you've already made a friend in me! I'm having a dinner tomorrow night for the Thanksgiving holiday, and you have to come. I won't take no for an answer," she finished with a grin. "Must seem strange, yes? A strange Englishwoman popping out of the waves and inviting you to dinner!"

Oh, lady, if you only knew the strange things I've seen... Destiny fought the urge to correct her and wiped her eyes. She picked through her words carefully, settling on "It would be my pleasure. Would you like me to bring anything? I'm afraid I have no guests to bring, so possibly a pumpkin pie or something?"

"That would be lovely!" Emmeline agreed. "I'm afraid I've no knack for desserts myself, though I make the best turkey you'll ever have, promise you that! Funny thing, too, as for some reason I can never quite stomach the sight of raw poultry..." She trailed off, then shrugged. "Perhaps it has something to do with all of the feral chickens running about as though they own the streets!"

Destiny snorted. "I can't imagine why you'd be adverse to fowl after hearing a kid call one 'Sparky'," she teased. "So, Eliza Street? What time?" Destiny was surprised that she was going to a virtual stranger's home for Thanksgiving, but... some part of her knew it was Emmeline, deep down. And, hey, who knows who or what else she'll meet? She highly doubted she'd meet anyone who remembered the Destiny from Nevada. This was her re-do, in essence. So, she had to start forgetting the past and move forward. This was the first step.

July 10, 2014

A destination wedding on the Jersey shore, white dress gathering sediment on the hem, shoes left under the banquet table at the venue beyond the dunes. Long after the guests had left, she and her new husband explored the beach, still wide awake from the excitement of the day.

Arm crading her new husband's hipbone, she walked into the sea. The water retracted, the shell fragments crunching under her feet as she let go of him and walked forward towards the shining object in the water. She remembers walking up to it, touching it with her foot, and... she left. Like light through a prism, her soul replicated into two streams. Destiny Alyson Brown-Anderson stayed there...

November 15, 2009
A new Destiny woke up in the sand, jeans and wifebeater caked in sand. Her eyes opened, blinking away the revelry of the night before. Or what would have been the night before. The memories faded, she drew a hand across her face. No longer did the engagement and wedding ring sit on her finger. A fully tanned hand, a younger hand without the burn from her first attempt of cooking for her father for the first time since she left his house. She got up and stretched, padding into the water to get a good look. A younger face stared back at her. She shrieked a little, splashing backwards from her reflection. She guiltily looked around, hoping no one heard that. A realization hit her. Who was she? Sticking her hand in her pocket, she pulled out her cellphone. The name inside read Destiny Alyson Brown. The date: November 15, 2009. Shaking her head, she reset the time on the phone to update to the correct time. No change.

She walked up to the small tiki hut that rented surfboards. On the outside was a calendar, posted to the wall. November 15, 2009. So. It wasn't a fluke. It really was five years earlier. This body was definitely younger. She had no idea what was going on. She had a feeling that the older Destiny was fine. She knew in her heart that there was no way to get back through time. Even in 2014, they hadn't marketed a personal time machine, so there was no way in hell she was getting back there.

Destiny was given a new life. A chance to, in essence, redo the years. And hoo boy, the years since 2009 had been difficult at best.

Wow, was this going to be fun...

Destiny pulled out her money clip, glanced at the address on her license, and decided to start there.