Eve of All Hallows Ficlet
Oct. 31st, 2005 07:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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cadence_k's Hallowe'en drabble-a-thon that wasn't. Erm....rated PG, implied Faith/Kennedy, futurefic. Not a drabble, but a 323-word ficlet.
Happy Hallowe'en, everyone!
Cleveland, Ohio—October 31, 2019
“You’ve never gone trick-or-treating?”
Madelyn returns Faith’s incredulous gaze with a cool stare of her own. When she speaks, her voice is a smooth blend of her mother’s American accent, her father’s Italian, and Giles’ British. (Dawn’s accent nowadays is halfway between the American and the British.) “I remember my mother talking about Halloween,” Madelyn says, and when she does it is with a soft sadness. Faith hasn’t seen her own mother in ages, since she was sixteen to be exact—but to lose one’s mother at age six? And to be abandoned by one’s father—well, Faith knows that story.
“It’s not really a thing in Europe,” Madelyn says.
Faith feels sorry for the kid. Which is silly, because if she were to count the ways in which Madelyn’s life sucks, “never has gone trick-or-treating” doesn’t even make the Top 100. This is a girl who has the fate of the world resting on her shoulders, in ways Buffy wouldn’t even have been able to comprehend, and at an age much younger than Buffy or Faith had been called.
But Faith can’t bring Buffy back, can’t make the Immortal care about his daughter. She can't erase the passages about Madelyn in the Tradescan Codex, can’t take away the destiny that fate has seen fit to give the girl. But she damn well can take the girl trick-or-treating, give her at least that much of a semblance of a normal childhood. She looks across the room at Kennedy, who gives a silent nod.
“We’re taking the younger girls out tonight to trick-or-treat,” Ken says. “You can tag along if you want.”
Madelyn’s face scrunches up in thought. “I don’t have a costume,” she says uncertainly, and for that moment she looks like a normal pre-teen girl. It warms Faith’s heart.
Faith looks at her watch. “There’s still a few hours until sunset,” she says. “I’m sure we can throw something together by then.”
Go on to:
The Feast of All Saints
The Feast of All Souls
cadence_k's Hallowe'en drabble-a-thon that wasn't. Erm....rated PG, implied Faith/Kennedy, futurefic. Not a drabble, but a 323-word ficlet.Happy Hallowe'en, everyone!
Cleveland, Ohio—October 31, 2019
“You’ve never gone trick-or-treating?”
Madelyn returns Faith’s incredulous gaze with a cool stare of her own. When she speaks, her voice is a smooth blend of her mother’s American accent, her father’s Italian, and Giles’ British. (Dawn’s accent nowadays is halfway between the American and the British.) “I remember my mother talking about Halloween,” Madelyn says, and when she does it is with a soft sadness. Faith hasn’t seen her own mother in ages, since she was sixteen to be exact—but to lose one’s mother at age six? And to be abandoned by one’s father—well, Faith knows that story.
“It’s not really a thing in Europe,” Madelyn says.
Faith feels sorry for the kid. Which is silly, because if she were to count the ways in which Madelyn’s life sucks, “never has gone trick-or-treating” doesn’t even make the Top 100. This is a girl who has the fate of the world resting on her shoulders, in ways Buffy wouldn’t even have been able to comprehend, and at an age much younger than Buffy or Faith had been called.
But Faith can’t bring Buffy back, can’t make the Immortal care about his daughter. She can't erase the passages about Madelyn in the Tradescan Codex, can’t take away the destiny that fate has seen fit to give the girl. But she damn well can take the girl trick-or-treating, give her at least that much of a semblance of a normal childhood. She looks across the room at Kennedy, who gives a silent nod.
“We’re taking the younger girls out tonight to trick-or-treat,” Ken says. “You can tag along if you want.”
Madelyn’s face scrunches up in thought. “I don’t have a costume,” she says uncertainly, and for that moment she looks like a normal pre-teen girl. It warms Faith’s heart.
Faith looks at her watch. “There’s still a few hours until sunset,” she says. “I’m sure we can throw something together by then.”
Go on to:
The Feast of All Saints
The Feast of All Souls
