Jesse lay in his bed, eyes closed, wrapped up in his sheets from sleeping fitfully. His pillow was somewhere on the floor next to him, and he'd gone and knocked his water glass over through his flailing.
He hadn't been able to rest properly since having the thought that maybe all of those who had been killed could remember being dead. Something about that really didn't sit right with him, and he hadn't been able to find anybody who had died in order to ask them if it was true. He would have stepped in and prevented that little bit had he had the idea before hand. Before everybody had been resurrected.
Of course, in his defense, he hadn't really thought any of those people would be coming back. Where he came from, the murdered stayed down.
Actually, that wasn't particularly true, was it? He'd seen plenty of people brought back from the dead some way or another.
He just hadn't expected it here, and not all the victims of a serial killer. There had been a dozen or more deaths that he'd heard of, and it was absurd that all of them should return to life.
Jesse just didn't know what to do.
Again, he felt powerless despite all of his power.
So it would be no surprise to him when he woke up and once again wrecked his bedroom.
His unsettled thinking while sleeping brought him around to both Buffy and Fray. The blond slayer whom he'd gone and done very ungentlemanly things to in the alley had caused him no amounts of worry due to her almost immediate disappearance from The City after said rendezvous. And Fray, well, Mel was just all kinds of a new thing for him. He felt protective over her. Didn't want to see her get hurt. She worshiped him in kind of a weird way, sure. But it was flattering.
And of course, thoughts of them brought along thoughts of them together. Nothing new for him. He'd been having these little fantasies for a few weeks now. Mel and Buffy and some pudding. The dream blossomed quickly and there they were. Buffy was in a little pink bikini, and Mel was wearing a black one. They stood facing each other over a blow up kiddie pool filled with chocolate pudding. Jesse looked down and noticed he was wearing a black and white stripped referee shirt, and even had a whistle.
He blew on the shiny silver sound maker, the dream got entirely too real, and then the girls were wrestling. Jesse sat on the edge of the bed, watching. Lucidity washed over the entire scene and all at once Jesse discovered that he could control what the girls did, and had the thought that if either of them found out, he'd be all kinds of bruised in no time flat.