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alixtiiTitle: Triangle
Fandom: Buffy/Angel
Pairings: Amy/Faith, Amy/OMC, Faith/OMC, Faith/Dawn, Dawn/Amy. Buffy/Faith UST. Implied Buffy/Immortal and Dawn/Giles, as children and wedding rings don’t pop into existence by themselves--although in the Buffyverse, I suppose, that's debatable. Whew! Quite a list, innit?
Rating: R
Warning: Brief het, implied noncon. And femslash, of course, but I don’t have to warn for that, do I?
Word Count: 4250. Ish.
Timline/Continuity: Part I is set during “Amends,” Part II during “Bad Girls,” and Part III in 2020, eight years after my (yet unpublished) To Live In Hearts. Part of my Watcher!verse, but can be understood quite well on its own.
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
booster17 in the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femslash_santa ficathon.
Summary: Three angles connect three sides; three moments connect three lives.
Triangle
I. Year of our Lord 1998
“You should hang up lights,” Amy said. “It’d be festive.”
Faith just looked at the witch skeptically. “So, are we going to do it or are you going to keep on criticizing the décor?”
Amy shrugged. “No, I’m serious,” she said. “You know—‘tis the season’?”
Faith sat down on her unmade motel bed, crossed her arms. “I thought you were a witch.”
Amy smiled. “There are those who drawn to Wicca for the religion, the spirituality, the Goddess and the love of the Earth and let’s hug a tree and all that stuff. But there are those of us who simply want the power, to feel the energy flowing through our veins, to know that we can bend the very fabric of reality to our will. Your red-headed friend still celebrates Chanukah, after all.”
“She’s not my friend,” Faith pointed out. “Buffy makes sure of that. I thought she was supposed to be yours, though.”
“She used to be,” admitted Amy. “But then the Slayer who can do no wrong showed up.”
Faith nodded. “So Willow just wants the power?”
“Everyone just wants the power,” Amy corrected. “The world’s just divided between those who will admit it and those who keep on lying to themselves. You want something, you take it, and then you have it. That’s what magic is about.”
“Yay for magic.”
Amy sat down next to Faith on the bed. “Hey,” she said, putting a hand on the Slayer’s shoulder. “What you have is a type of magic. Being the Slayer, I mean.”
“A Slayer, you mean,” Faith corrected.
“Screw Buffy.”
“Gladly,” said Faith. “She doesn’t seem particularly willing, though.”
“Well, I’m here,” Amy said. “I’m willing.”
They kissed, their lips pressing together for a moment before Faith opened her mouth to let in Amy’s tongue. They explored each other’s mouths for a moment, then Amy pulled back.
“Hey,” said Amy. “There’s this guy I know—Rack, his name is—and he’s having a big party on Christmas Eve. You should come.”
“All right,” answered Faith. “It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
* * * * *
“So all these types are gathered together for a Christmas party?” Faith asked, looking at a particularly flamboyant demon with blue skin and horns. Faith’s Watcher would probably have been disappointed that Faith had no idea what type of demon it was—that is, if she hadn’t died a terrible death at the hands of Kakistos.
“Well, not so much Christmas,” admitted Amy. “Gurnenthar's Ascendance. Basically the same idea. You know, a festival of lights?”
Faith nodded, absently.
Amy poured a cup of punch, handed it to Faith, then poured herself a cup.
Faith took a sip. It wasn’t so much that someone had spiked the punch as someone had poured a few drops of fruit juice into a bowl full of hard liquor.
“How about those boys over there?” asked Amy. “They look like they’d be good for a good time.”
Faith frowned. “They seem awfully interested in each other.”
“That can be fixed,” said Amy, and closed her eyes. After the witch opened them again, and Faith watched as the boys took their eyes off each other and locked their gazes on Faith and Amy. After a moment of staring, they crossed the room towards them. No words were exchanged, only meaningful glances, and it wasn’t long before the four had slipped out of the party and into the ally outside.
One of the boys dropped to his knees in front of Faith, gently undoing her fly, while the other quickly slipped his hand up Amy’s skirt. You want something, you take it, and then you have it, Faith reminded herself. Want, take, have. She repeated the words as if a mantra, her lips moving as she subvocalized. The boy underneath her—inside her—didn’t even notice, so intent was he on his job.
Besides, she was fully planning to return the favor later, and what boy didn’t like getting off? Faith and Amy were both two hot chicks. They were doing these boys a favor.
As the waves of biological pleasure began to build, however, Faith realized that this was the last place in the world she wanted to be.
* * * * *
Buffy opened the door. “Hey,” Faith said.
“Hi!” said Buffy, clearly surprised but recovering well.
“Uh, looked like that whole party thing was gonna be kind of a drag,” Faith said, knowing full well that Bufy would probably she had just made the whole thing up. After all, Buffy didn’t know about Amy. “I didn't really have anything—you know.”
Buffy smiled. “I'm glad you came,” she said, and for a moment, Faith could even believe it.
Then Faith realized she was still standing on the welcome mat. “Uh, here,” she said, handing Buffy a few wrapped gifts she had picked up at the SunnyDollar.
”Why don't you come in from the entire lack of cold?” Buffy invited her in, at the same time that Dawn showed up at the door and cried out, “Mom! Faith is here!”
“That one is for your mom,” Faith said, pointing out the present she had gotten for Joyce. “And that one’s Dawn’s. They're pretty crappy.”
Joyce chose that moment to arrive herself. “Faith, you made it,” she said, then saw the gifts. “Oh, that is so thoughtful.”
Faith honestly didn’t know what to say. “They're crappy,” she said, because they were.
”You know,” Buffy said, “I'm gonna go upstairs and get your gifts. Excuse me.”
”Uh, would you like some nog?” Joyce asked.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Summers,” Faith said. “Could I just get a glass of water?”
Joyce smiled. “Not a problem,” she said.
“Can I open the present Faith gave me?” Dawn asked.
“Not yet,” Joyce answered. “You need to learn to wait, Dawn.”
It was that moment when Buffy returned from upstairs, her face white. “Faith, can I talk with you for a moment?” she said.
“Sure, B’,” Faith answered, stepping away from Joyce and Dawn so she could talk to Buffy in private. “What’s up.”
“Angel was just here,” Buffy said, “and he needs help. I just need you to stay with Mom and Dawn in case he comes back.”
”Yeah, I'll play watchdog,” Faith answered. “I don't really get it, though.”
”I'll explain later. Everything. I promise.”
Faith frowned. She didn’t know what Buffy was going into, but she didn’t like letting her go alone. But if Buffy was worried about her family, then Faith was damned well going to protect them. ”Watch your back,” she said.
* * * * *
“Which U.S. Military service does not have warrant officers?” Dawn read.
“That one’s easy,” Faith said. “Air Force.” She picked up the die and rolled it again.
Dawn had beat her soundly in their first game of Trivial Pursuit, but she had managed to stay ahead this time by keeping to the sports and entertainment spaces and staying off history and literature. This is what normal families did together, she supposed: played games together. She took another sip of chocolate milk (it had been too warm for hot chocolate) and decided she liked it.
She moved her piece forward three pieces and groaned. “Literature,” she said. Great. Time to be quizzed on yet another book she hadn’t read.
But Dawn wasn’t paying attention, her gaze firmly fixed outside the window. “It’s snowing,” she said at last.
“What?” Faith turned around. “Nah, it can’t—” But it was. Not only was it snowing, but it was snowing. Coming down hard, and laying, too.
“Can I play in it?” Dawn asked, her eyes wide as she begged her mother.
“Only if you put on your jacket,” Joyce answered gently but firmly. Dawn had already raced up to her room to get it.
“Do you know how to make a snowman?” Faith asked Dawn after they had gone outside. The twelve-year-old shook her head.
Faith smiled. This she knew how to do. Snow was something they got in Boston. “First you roll the body,” she explained, and began to show Dawn how.
II. Year of Our Lord 2003
“Merry fucking Christmas.”
“What?” Willow turned to her companion, not understanding. “It’s April.”
Faith shook her head. “That girl in there. She’s a fucking Christmas gift from our friend the First Evil. ‘Here’s a stabbed girl, and oh, have a happy New Year too.’”
“We don’t know that it’s connected,” Willow started, but Faith broke her off.
“You think there’s two demonic forces going around stabbing Potentials?” Faith asked. “You always were a downer, Will, but that’s—” Seeing Willow’s face, Faith stopped. “Relax,” she said. “I’m joking. Miss Slayer-to-be will heal, and whatever did this to her, Buffy and I will take it down.”
* * * * *
As Faith crossed over the threshold of 1630 Revello Drive with Buffy and Spike next to her, it was like returning to a past life. As much as each of them had changed, the house it had seemed had not. “Whoa,” she said. “Memory Lane. Same old house.”
Buffy didn’t quite smile. “Yeah, well, every piece of furniture's been destroyed and replaced since you left, so, actually, new house.”
“Buffy?” a voice chimed in from the other room, and Faith saw a thin, attractive brunette standing in the doorway. Faith wondered if she was one of the new potentials before finally recognizing her as Dawn. She wasn’t twelve-years-old anymore. Giles appeared behind Dawn.
“We have a new house guest,” Buffy announced.
“Hey,” Faith said, forcing herself to speak. “Got a spare bed for a wanted fugitive?”
Giles and Dawn just looked back at her, unamused. “Hello, Faith,” he said evenly, but without warmth.
“Well, I guess ‘wanted’ wasn't really accurate.”
“Does she have to stay here?” Dawn asked. “Because there's some nice hotels that welcome tried-to-kill-your-sister types.”
“Check it out,” Faith said even as her heart dropped. “Brat's all woman-sized.” And she was, that was sure. Tall, voluptuous—Dawn was certainly a woman now, no less than her sister. Shame they both hated her more or less equally, although she had to admit that Buffy had extended the olive branch.
“Look,” interjected Buffy. “I need to get to the hospital. Some girl was attacked on her way into town. We think she might be a—”
“We know,” Dawn interrupted. “Willow's been calling.”
* * * * *
“Well, we can’t put Faith in with Buffy,” Anya pointed out reasonably. “There wouldn’t be any house left.”
“Yes,” agreed Giles. “But Willow’s room is already full beyond its capacity and the living room—”
“I’ll room with her.”
The room was silent as everyone in it turned towards Dawn. “Are you sure, Dawn?” asked Xander. “You didn’t seem exactly friendly back—”
“It’s fine,” Dawn answered. “It’s not a problem.”
There was a beat, and then Kennedy spoke up. “Well, that’s settled then.”
* * * * *
“Faith?” Dawn asked. “What was it like?”
The other Slayerettes in the room were sleeping, Faith could tell—she could hear the shallowness of their breathing. Dawn was awake, still, though, and apparently didn’t want to let Faith fall asleep either.
“What was what like?” Faith whispered back, grumpy.
“Being evil,” Dawn answered, her voice quiet.
Faith tried to think of how to answer that, and then decided to screw diplomacy and opt for honesty. “A mixed bag, really,” she said. “Sometimes it was really fucking great, I won’t lie. Such power, and the freedom to do whatever you wanted to do with it. But there were a lot of times when it majorly sucked, too. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t care, that it didn’t matter what I did, that I deserved whatever I took for myself because I was better, but I don’t think I ever believed it. Not really.”
There was silence for a moment, then Faith asked, “what brought that question on?”
“Nothing,” Dawn answered. “I was just—thinking.”
“Come on,” Faith said, sitting up and crossing her arms. “To ask that question this late in the morning? That has to be some heavy-duty thinking. Spill it, spurt.”
There was a pause, and then Dawn began to answer. “Well, when Buffy died the last time—”
“WHAT?” Faith asked. It came out louder than she intended, and several of the Slayerettes stirred in their sleep in response to the sudden disruption. “The last time?”
“Erm, yeah,” said Dawn, her voice sheepish. “Buffy sort of died again a year and a half ago.”
“Why didn’t anyone think to tell me about that?” Faith asked.
“They were afraid you might attempt something reckless,” answered Dawn. “Try to break out of prison or something.”
“Damn right I would have,” Faith said. “The Hellmouth needs a Slayer. It’s what we were Chosen for, isn’t it?”
“Well, Willow and the bunch all brought her back—”
“Obviously, since I just saw her a couple of hours ago and she looked particularly spry for a corpse. Not that I don’t see a lot of spry corpses in my line of work.”
“Well, after Buffy came back, I began to, well you know, steal things.”
Faith couldn’t help but laugh. “The precious Slayer’s little sis a juvie delinquent. How rich is that.”
“Well, at least I didn’t kill anybody,” Dawn said.
That got Faith silent real fast. “Did you want to?” she said at last.
“And Buffy won’t let me date for, like, forever. She gets upset at the very thought of me with a boy. It wasn’t my fault that guy at Hallowe’en turned out to be a vampire.”
“Wait,” interrupted Faith. “What is the story, and what does it have to do with being evil?”
“I sort of told Buffy that I slept over a friend’s—”
“While you and your friend both slipped out,” Faith finished. “Classic ploy. Not that my mother ever cared enough for me to have to try anything like that, but that’s a different story. Buffy, Xander, and Willow used to pull it, I was told, but I suppose your sister would say that was different.” Faith’s imitation of Buffy provoked a giggle from Dawn.
“It’s just that, even after I knew he was a vampire, part of me still wanted it," Dawn continued. "I mean, I was like, Buffy slept with Angel—this was before Spike, or at least before I knew about Buffy and Spike, although it was obvious to everyone by that point that he was fawning all over her. And maybe I was a little bit jealous, you know?”
“I get it,” Faith said after a moment. “And I get that Buffy doesn’t.”
“It was like that stealing, too. It was like, there I was breaking rules, and somehow that made me real. That made me special.”
“Well, sometimes rules need to be broken,” said Faith. “But if you break rules just to break rules, then you’re letting them rule you just as much as if you were following every single one.”
Dawn groaned. “That sounds like something Buffy or Giles might say.”
“I wouldn’t have put much stock into it a few years ago either,” admitted Faith. “Took me prison to teach me the truth of that lesson. I had the choice of letting myself be thrown into solitary for every little thing, or I could pick my battles. You’d be amazed at how long I managed to keep on picking the first option, but eventually I learned to do the second.”
“How’d you manage it?”
“It helped to have someone who believed in me, who thought I was special for all the right reasons. Who convinced me I didn’t need to prove anything.”
“Lucky you.”
Faith moved closer to Dawn. “Hey, I just got here. But I remember one hell of a cool twelve-year-old, and see the beautiful young won you’ve grown into, and I already don’t need to be convinced you’re someone special. And I don’t know what’s gone down beyond Buffy dying and coming back, as if that wasn’t bad enough, but my guess? There’s more, so much more that the fact that you purloined a few handbags pales in comparison with what it could have driven you to. The fact that you’re still here, helping your sister and her friends, doing what’s right, means that you have even less to prove than I do.”
And it was then that Dawn leaned over, brought her mouth to Faith’s.
“What are you doing?” Faith asked.
“Breaking a rule that’s worth breaking,” answered Dawn.
III. Year of Our Lord 2020
It was a night like any other, about a month before the Solstice, when there had been a knock on the coven’s door. Amy made her way to the door, wondering to herself who it could be. They didn’t receive many visitors; perhaps one of the cats had escaped and it was a neighbor, bringing her back. She entertained the notion of sending her mind ahead of her body
She recognized her immediately, although there were streaks of white in the woman’s hair that hadn’t been there before. Amy was a powerful Wiccan, but the woman on her threshold might just have been, with the aid of only slight magical ability, the most powerful woman on the face of the planet.
Dawn Summers, head of the Council of Watchers.
“Dawn, come in,” she said, giving her room to enter into the coven house. “What brings you to Los Angeles?”
It couldn’t be anything good, Amy knew. She had only ran into the High Watcher a few times in the last two decades, and each time had been some type of apocalypse.
“I need your help,” Dawn said.
“I doubt there is anything we can do that the coven in Devonshire can’t,” Amy pointed out. The Devonshire coven, headed by the powerful witch Althanea, was the one which worked most closely with the Council in Britain. For Dawn to travel across an ocean and a continent to Los Angeles
“No,” said Dawn. “I need your help.”
Amy didn’t have any reason to believe the Watcher particularly liked her, which meant that Dawn had to have had quite specific reasons for searching her out. "A prophecy?"
"Not exactly," Dawn answered, which of course meant yes. “Your fate has always been tied to Willow’s, Amy. You were always one of the very few Wiccans capable of standing up to her, of holding power rivaling her own. And like her, you had as powerful of grasp of black magic as you had of white.”
“Which is all very well and good," Amy interjected, "but Willow died twelve years ago.”
Dawn nodded. “And there’s an eleven-year-old girl who needs your help.”
“Your niece. Buffy’s daughter.” The way Amy understood it, Buffy had conceived her daughter Madelyn on the very night of Willow’s death.
“I need you to train her.”
“Althanea is a far better teacher than I ever could be,” Amy answered. “I lack her patience, her wisdom. In fact, all I have to recommend me is my mastery of the darkest magicks. What is it you are afraid of, Dawn?”
“The First Evil,” Dawn said. “It still exists—it will always exist—waiting for its time to strike again. And the Tradëscan Codex says it is going to be soon. When it comes, it will try to tempt Madelyn, to turn her to its side.”
“You’re afraid it’ll succeed.”
“How many times did Willow try to either destroy or take over the world?” asked Dawn. “We both know it’s possible, that the pull of dark magicks is strong. And Madelyn’s just a child. What does she know about resisting temptation? But you do. You’ve cast some of the darkest magicks imaginable, and you’ve still turned into nothing more scary than the neighborhood cat lady.”
“It wasn’t an easy path, Dawn. You of all people must know that.”
Dawn sighed. “It’s not the fate I would have chosen for her. But it wasn’t my choice to make.”
Amy nodded. “Very well, then. I will do for her what I can, teach her what I know.”
Dawn pulled a small PC out of her pocket, pressed a small button. Before there was even any visible change, Amy could feel the shift in the visible fabric as Madelyn teleported into the room. Such a spell would (and, Amy knew, often did) knock a low-level user like Dawn completely unconscious. Madelyn, on the other hand, wasn’t even fatigued. The Force is strong with this one, Amy thought.
“Welcome to Los Angeles,” Amy said to the girl. “It is time for you to embrace your dark side.”
* * * * *
Both Madelyn and Dawn stayed for the next few days. Amy taught Madelyn what she could. Althanea has been quite complete in Madelyn’s training, and there was little in terms of technique that Amy could show the girl. So instead she focused on the dark arts, having Madelyn cast spells that were progressively darker and darker.
“Don’t worry about the balance,” Amy instructed. “Just let yourself go: your anger, your greed, your desire for all of it. Don’t worry about other people, about their pain or their lives. Just focus on your power.”
And Amy could feel the shift as the girl let herself go. Her eyes turned a familiar black, even as Madelyn’s red hair suddenly became a shade of jet. The power emanating from her double, tripled, increased exponentially as she gave into the darkness, imposing her will on the universe.
And then the moment, and Madelyn pulled away from the darkness. She stood in the middle of a room again, her hair red and her eyes blue again.
“That,” Amy said, “is what you can become. You give into it, and you will be capable of anything—even hurting those you love the most.”
“Don’t you miss it?” asked Madelyn. “The power?”
“Every moment,” answered Amy. “There’s not a single moment when I don’t crave it.”
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Dawn conducted the business of the Watcher’s Council via computer. The operations of the Council spanned the globe, with Slayers on every continent except Antartica, and Dawn was just capable of coordinating their efforts from Los Angeles as she was from London.
Occasionally, Dawn would check in on Madelyn’s progress, observing Amy’s training sessions. Amy would watch Dawn watch her black-haired niece unleash her considerable power during these sessions, and sometimes it seemed to Amy that this connection with Madelyn’s dark side was taking as much a toll on Dawn as it was on the girl herself.
“You don’t have to stay here, you know,” Amy told her once. “I can train her by myself.”
But Dawn just shook her head. “I can’t ask her to undergo something I can’t go through myself,” she said.
“We each have our own burdens to bear. Every single Slayer on this planet relies on you for guidance. Madelyn’s challenges are her own. You can’t take everything onto yourself.”
“She’s Buffy daughter,” Dawn had said, and Amy knew that was that.
* * * * *
It was that night, when Amy was about to go to bed, that there was a knock on her bedroom door. She opened the door to reveal Dawn, dressed in her nightgown as if she had suddenly had a thought and rushed to Amy’s door.
Her cheeks were wet.
“I can’t do this anymore,” said Dawn Summers, head of the Council, the woman who commanded an army of Slayers, who had led them into battle on more than one occasion. Her voice was firm. “I’ve lost too many girls, had to sacrifice too many of them, send them into battle, to their deaths. I won’t lose Madelyn, too.”
Amy, unsure of what to do, let instinct take over and took Dawn into her arms. The Watcher was taller, but she let herself be held, rested her head on Amy’s, and released a series of sobs. Amy just held her tight.
“None of us asked for this,” Amy said. “If we had our way, we’d have normal jobs with normal children, and on the weekends we’d call up our mothers who loved us. But we soldier on. You and I’ve done it for years, Dawn. Now we need to teach Madelyn to do it.”
Dawn pulled away from Amy, looked the witch in her eyes. “I wanted something better for Madelyn,” she said. “I wanted to save her from this.”
“Here, come in,” Amy said, leading Dawn into the room and gesturing for her to sit. “I suppose every parent wants that for their children. But sometimes that’s just not possible. The time comes when you have to just let go and let her do what she needs to do.”
“I know,” said Dawn. “It’s just hard. It may be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
Coming from the woman who single-handedly ran the campaign against the Gurnth’far invasion, this was saying quite a bit, Amy mused.
She walked back over to Dawn, placed her hand on the Watcher’s shoulder. She didn’t say anything, for what could she say? She had never had children. How could she really guess what Dawn was going through?
Dawn put her hand around the arm on her shoulder, used it to pull herself up towards Amy. To Amy, not stopping when her lips met Amy’s. And then Dawn was pulling Amy down onto her bed, removing her clothing, and then—
Amy noticed that Dawn left on her wedding ring through it all, and didn’t say a word.
An End
Fandom: Buffy/Angel
Pairings: Amy/Faith, Amy/OMC, Faith/OMC, Faith/Dawn, Dawn/Amy. Buffy/Faith UST. Implied Buffy/Immortal and Dawn/Giles, as children and wedding rings don’t pop into existence by themselves--although in the Buffyverse, I suppose, that's debatable. Whew! Quite a list, innit?
Rating: R
Warning: Brief het, implied noncon. And femslash, of course, but I don’t have to warn for that, do I?
Word Count: 4250. Ish.
Timline/Continuity: Part I is set during “Amends,” Part II during “Bad Girls,” and Part III in 2020, eight years after my (yet unpublished) To Live In Hearts. Part of my Watcher!verse, but can be understood quite well on its own.
Notes: For
booster17 in the femslash_santa ficathon.Summary: Three angles connect three sides; three moments connect three lives.
Triangle
I. Year of our Lord 1998
“You should hang up lights,” Amy said. “It’d be festive.”
Faith just looked at the witch skeptically. “So, are we going to do it or are you going to keep on criticizing the décor?”
Amy shrugged. “No, I’m serious,” she said. “You know—‘tis the season’?”
Faith sat down on her unmade motel bed, crossed her arms. “I thought you were a witch.”
Amy smiled. “There are those who drawn to Wicca for the religion, the spirituality, the Goddess and the love of the Earth and let’s hug a tree and all that stuff. But there are those of us who simply want the power, to feel the energy flowing through our veins, to know that we can bend the very fabric of reality to our will. Your red-headed friend still celebrates Chanukah, after all.”
“She’s not my friend,” Faith pointed out. “Buffy makes sure of that. I thought she was supposed to be yours, though.”
“She used to be,” admitted Amy. “But then the Slayer who can do no wrong showed up.”
Faith nodded. “So Willow just wants the power?”
“Everyone just wants the power,” Amy corrected. “The world’s just divided between those who will admit it and those who keep on lying to themselves. You want something, you take it, and then you have it. That’s what magic is about.”
“Yay for magic.”
Amy sat down next to Faith on the bed. “Hey,” she said, putting a hand on the Slayer’s shoulder. “What you have is a type of magic. Being the Slayer, I mean.”
“A Slayer, you mean,” Faith corrected.
“Screw Buffy.”
“Gladly,” said Faith. “She doesn’t seem particularly willing, though.”
“Well, I’m here,” Amy said. “I’m willing.”
They kissed, their lips pressing together for a moment before Faith opened her mouth to let in Amy’s tongue. They explored each other’s mouths for a moment, then Amy pulled back.
“Hey,” said Amy. “There’s this guy I know—Rack, his name is—and he’s having a big party on Christmas Eve. You should come.”
“All right,” answered Faith. “It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
“So all these types are gathered together for a Christmas party?” Faith asked, looking at a particularly flamboyant demon with blue skin and horns. Faith’s Watcher would probably have been disappointed that Faith had no idea what type of demon it was—that is, if she hadn’t died a terrible death at the hands of Kakistos.
“Well, not so much Christmas,” admitted Amy. “Gurnenthar's Ascendance. Basically the same idea. You know, a festival of lights?”
Faith nodded, absently.
Amy poured a cup of punch, handed it to Faith, then poured herself a cup.
Faith took a sip. It wasn’t so much that someone had spiked the punch as someone had poured a few drops of fruit juice into a bowl full of hard liquor.
“How about those boys over there?” asked Amy. “They look like they’d be good for a good time.”
Faith frowned. “They seem awfully interested in each other.”
“That can be fixed,” said Amy, and closed her eyes. After the witch opened them again, and Faith watched as the boys took their eyes off each other and locked their gazes on Faith and Amy. After a moment of staring, they crossed the room towards them. No words were exchanged, only meaningful glances, and it wasn’t long before the four had slipped out of the party and into the ally outside.
One of the boys dropped to his knees in front of Faith, gently undoing her fly, while the other quickly slipped his hand up Amy’s skirt. You want something, you take it, and then you have it, Faith reminded herself. Want, take, have. She repeated the words as if a mantra, her lips moving as she subvocalized. The boy underneath her—inside her—didn’t even notice, so intent was he on his job.
Besides, she was fully planning to return the favor later, and what boy didn’t like getting off? Faith and Amy were both two hot chicks. They were doing these boys a favor.
As the waves of biological pleasure began to build, however, Faith realized that this was the last place in the world she wanted to be.
Buffy opened the door. “Hey,” Faith said.
“Hi!” said Buffy, clearly surprised but recovering well.
“Uh, looked like that whole party thing was gonna be kind of a drag,” Faith said, knowing full well that Bufy would probably she had just made the whole thing up. After all, Buffy didn’t know about Amy. “I didn't really have anything—you know.”
Buffy smiled. “I'm glad you came,” she said, and for a moment, Faith could even believe it.
Then Faith realized she was still standing on the welcome mat. “Uh, here,” she said, handing Buffy a few wrapped gifts she had picked up at the SunnyDollar.
”Why don't you come in from the entire lack of cold?” Buffy invited her in, at the same time that Dawn showed up at the door and cried out, “Mom! Faith is here!”
“That one is for your mom,” Faith said, pointing out the present she had gotten for Joyce. “And that one’s Dawn’s. They're pretty crappy.”
Joyce chose that moment to arrive herself. “Faith, you made it,” she said, then saw the gifts. “Oh, that is so thoughtful.”
Faith honestly didn’t know what to say. “They're crappy,” she said, because they were.
”You know,” Buffy said, “I'm gonna go upstairs and get your gifts. Excuse me.”
”Uh, would you like some nog?” Joyce asked.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Summers,” Faith said. “Could I just get a glass of water?”
Joyce smiled. “Not a problem,” she said.
“Can I open the present Faith gave me?” Dawn asked.
“Not yet,” Joyce answered. “You need to learn to wait, Dawn.”
It was that moment when Buffy returned from upstairs, her face white. “Faith, can I talk with you for a moment?” she said.
“Sure, B’,” Faith answered, stepping away from Joyce and Dawn so she could talk to Buffy in private. “What’s up.”
“Angel was just here,” Buffy said, “and he needs help. I just need you to stay with Mom and Dawn in case he comes back.”
”Yeah, I'll play watchdog,” Faith answered. “I don't really get it, though.”
”I'll explain later. Everything. I promise.”
Faith frowned. She didn’t know what Buffy was going into, but she didn’t like letting her go alone. But if Buffy was worried about her family, then Faith was damned well going to protect them. ”Watch your back,” she said.
“Which U.S. Military service does not have warrant officers?” Dawn read.
“That one’s easy,” Faith said. “Air Force.” She picked up the die and rolled it again.
Dawn had beat her soundly in their first game of Trivial Pursuit, but she had managed to stay ahead this time by keeping to the sports and entertainment spaces and staying off history and literature. This is what normal families did together, she supposed: played games together. She took another sip of chocolate milk (it had been too warm for hot chocolate) and decided she liked it.
She moved her piece forward three pieces and groaned. “Literature,” she said. Great. Time to be quizzed on yet another book she hadn’t read.
But Dawn wasn’t paying attention, her gaze firmly fixed outside the window. “It’s snowing,” she said at last.
“What?” Faith turned around. “Nah, it can’t—” But it was. Not only was it snowing, but it was snowing. Coming down hard, and laying, too.
“Can I play in it?” Dawn asked, her eyes wide as she begged her mother.
“Only if you put on your jacket,” Joyce answered gently but firmly. Dawn had already raced up to her room to get it.
“Do you know how to make a snowman?” Faith asked Dawn after they had gone outside. The twelve-year-old shook her head.
Faith smiled. This she knew how to do. Snow was something they got in Boston. “First you roll the body,” she explained, and began to show Dawn how.
II. Year of Our Lord 2003
“Merry fucking Christmas.”
“What?” Willow turned to her companion, not understanding. “It’s April.”
Faith shook her head. “That girl in there. She’s a fucking Christmas gift from our friend the First Evil. ‘Here’s a stabbed girl, and oh, have a happy New Year too.’”
“We don’t know that it’s connected,” Willow started, but Faith broke her off.
“You think there’s two demonic forces going around stabbing Potentials?” Faith asked. “You always were a downer, Will, but that’s—” Seeing Willow’s face, Faith stopped. “Relax,” she said. “I’m joking. Miss Slayer-to-be will heal, and whatever did this to her, Buffy and I will take it down.”
As Faith crossed over the threshold of 1630 Revello Drive with Buffy and Spike next to her, it was like returning to a past life. As much as each of them had changed, the house it had seemed had not. “Whoa,” she said. “Memory Lane. Same old house.”
Buffy didn’t quite smile. “Yeah, well, every piece of furniture's been destroyed and replaced since you left, so, actually, new house.”
“Buffy?” a voice chimed in from the other room, and Faith saw a thin, attractive brunette standing in the doorway. Faith wondered if she was one of the new potentials before finally recognizing her as Dawn. She wasn’t twelve-years-old anymore. Giles appeared behind Dawn.
“We have a new house guest,” Buffy announced.
“Hey,” Faith said, forcing herself to speak. “Got a spare bed for a wanted fugitive?”
Giles and Dawn just looked back at her, unamused. “Hello, Faith,” he said evenly, but without warmth.
“Well, I guess ‘wanted’ wasn't really accurate.”
“Does she have to stay here?” Dawn asked. “Because there's some nice hotels that welcome tried-to-kill-your-sister types.”
“Check it out,” Faith said even as her heart dropped. “Brat's all woman-sized.” And she was, that was sure. Tall, voluptuous—Dawn was certainly a woman now, no less than her sister. Shame they both hated her more or less equally, although she had to admit that Buffy had extended the olive branch.
“Look,” interjected Buffy. “I need to get to the hospital. Some girl was attacked on her way into town. We think she might be a—”
“We know,” Dawn interrupted. “Willow's been calling.”
“Well, we can’t put Faith in with Buffy,” Anya pointed out reasonably. “There wouldn’t be any house left.”
“Yes,” agreed Giles. “But Willow’s room is already full beyond its capacity and the living room—”
“I’ll room with her.”
The room was silent as everyone in it turned towards Dawn. “Are you sure, Dawn?” asked Xander. “You didn’t seem exactly friendly back—”
“It’s fine,” Dawn answered. “It’s not a problem.”
There was a beat, and then Kennedy spoke up. “Well, that’s settled then.”
“Faith?” Dawn asked. “What was it like?”
The other Slayerettes in the room were sleeping, Faith could tell—she could hear the shallowness of their breathing. Dawn was awake, still, though, and apparently didn’t want to let Faith fall asleep either.
“What was what like?” Faith whispered back, grumpy.
“Being evil,” Dawn answered, her voice quiet.
Faith tried to think of how to answer that, and then decided to screw diplomacy and opt for honesty. “A mixed bag, really,” she said. “Sometimes it was really fucking great, I won’t lie. Such power, and the freedom to do whatever you wanted to do with it. But there were a lot of times when it majorly sucked, too. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t care, that it didn’t matter what I did, that I deserved whatever I took for myself because I was better, but I don’t think I ever believed it. Not really.”
There was silence for a moment, then Faith asked, “what brought that question on?”
“Nothing,” Dawn answered. “I was just—thinking.”
“Come on,” Faith said, sitting up and crossing her arms. “To ask that question this late in the morning? That has to be some heavy-duty thinking. Spill it, spurt.”
There was a pause, and then Dawn began to answer. “Well, when Buffy died the last time—”
“WHAT?” Faith asked. It came out louder than she intended, and several of the Slayerettes stirred in their sleep in response to the sudden disruption. “The last time?”
“Erm, yeah,” said Dawn, her voice sheepish. “Buffy sort of died again a year and a half ago.”
“Why didn’t anyone think to tell me about that?” Faith asked.
“They were afraid you might attempt something reckless,” answered Dawn. “Try to break out of prison or something.”
“Damn right I would have,” Faith said. “The Hellmouth needs a Slayer. It’s what we were Chosen for, isn’t it?”
“Well, Willow and the bunch all brought her back—”
“Obviously, since I just saw her a couple of hours ago and she looked particularly spry for a corpse. Not that I don’t see a lot of spry corpses in my line of work.”
“Well, after Buffy came back, I began to, well you know, steal things.”
Faith couldn’t help but laugh. “The precious Slayer’s little sis a juvie delinquent. How rich is that.”
“Well, at least I didn’t kill anybody,” Dawn said.
That got Faith silent real fast. “Did you want to?” she said at last.
“And Buffy won’t let me date for, like, forever. She gets upset at the very thought of me with a boy. It wasn’t my fault that guy at Hallowe’en turned out to be a vampire.”
“Wait,” interrupted Faith. “What is the story, and what does it have to do with being evil?”
“I sort of told Buffy that I slept over a friend’s—”
“While you and your friend both slipped out,” Faith finished. “Classic ploy. Not that my mother ever cared enough for me to have to try anything like that, but that’s a different story. Buffy, Xander, and Willow used to pull it, I was told, but I suppose your sister would say that was different.” Faith’s imitation of Buffy provoked a giggle from Dawn.
“It’s just that, even after I knew he was a vampire, part of me still wanted it," Dawn continued. "I mean, I was like, Buffy slept with Angel—this was before Spike, or at least before I knew about Buffy and Spike, although it was obvious to everyone by that point that he was fawning all over her. And maybe I was a little bit jealous, you know?”
“I get it,” Faith said after a moment. “And I get that Buffy doesn’t.”
“It was like that stealing, too. It was like, there I was breaking rules, and somehow that made me real. That made me special.”
“Well, sometimes rules need to be broken,” said Faith. “But if you break rules just to break rules, then you’re letting them rule you just as much as if you were following every single one.”
Dawn groaned. “That sounds like something Buffy or Giles might say.”
“I wouldn’t have put much stock into it a few years ago either,” admitted Faith. “Took me prison to teach me the truth of that lesson. I had the choice of letting myself be thrown into solitary for every little thing, or I could pick my battles. You’d be amazed at how long I managed to keep on picking the first option, but eventually I learned to do the second.”
“How’d you manage it?”
“It helped to have someone who believed in me, who thought I was special for all the right reasons. Who convinced me I didn’t need to prove anything.”
“Lucky you.”
Faith moved closer to Dawn. “Hey, I just got here. But I remember one hell of a cool twelve-year-old, and see the beautiful young won you’ve grown into, and I already don’t need to be convinced you’re someone special. And I don’t know what’s gone down beyond Buffy dying and coming back, as if that wasn’t bad enough, but my guess? There’s more, so much more that the fact that you purloined a few handbags pales in comparison with what it could have driven you to. The fact that you’re still here, helping your sister and her friends, doing what’s right, means that you have even less to prove than I do.”
And it was then that Dawn leaned over, brought her mouth to Faith’s.
“What are you doing?” Faith asked.
“Breaking a rule that’s worth breaking,” answered Dawn.
III. Year of Our Lord 2020
It was a night like any other, about a month before the Solstice, when there had been a knock on the coven’s door. Amy made her way to the door, wondering to herself who it could be. They didn’t receive many visitors; perhaps one of the cats had escaped and it was a neighbor, bringing her back. She entertained the notion of sending her mind ahead of her body
She recognized her immediately, although there were streaks of white in the woman’s hair that hadn’t been there before. Amy was a powerful Wiccan, but the woman on her threshold might just have been, with the aid of only slight magical ability, the most powerful woman on the face of the planet.
Dawn Summers, head of the Council of Watchers.
“Dawn, come in,” she said, giving her room to enter into the coven house. “What brings you to Los Angeles?”
It couldn’t be anything good, Amy knew. She had only ran into the High Watcher a few times in the last two decades, and each time had been some type of apocalypse.
“I need your help,” Dawn said.
“I doubt there is anything we can do that the coven in Devonshire can’t,” Amy pointed out. The Devonshire coven, headed by the powerful witch Althanea, was the one which worked most closely with the Council in Britain. For Dawn to travel across an ocean and a continent to Los Angeles
“No,” said Dawn. “I need your help.”
Amy didn’t have any reason to believe the Watcher particularly liked her, which meant that Dawn had to have had quite specific reasons for searching her out. "A prophecy?"
"Not exactly," Dawn answered, which of course meant yes. “Your fate has always been tied to Willow’s, Amy. You were always one of the very few Wiccans capable of standing up to her, of holding power rivaling her own. And like her, you had as powerful of grasp of black magic as you had of white.”
“Which is all very well and good," Amy interjected, "but Willow died twelve years ago.”
Dawn nodded. “And there’s an eleven-year-old girl who needs your help.”
“Your niece. Buffy’s daughter.” The way Amy understood it, Buffy had conceived her daughter Madelyn on the very night of Willow’s death.
“I need you to train her.”
“Althanea is a far better teacher than I ever could be,” Amy answered. “I lack her patience, her wisdom. In fact, all I have to recommend me is my mastery of the darkest magicks. What is it you are afraid of, Dawn?”
“The First Evil,” Dawn said. “It still exists—it will always exist—waiting for its time to strike again. And the Tradëscan Codex says it is going to be soon. When it comes, it will try to tempt Madelyn, to turn her to its side.”
“You’re afraid it’ll succeed.”
“How many times did Willow try to either destroy or take over the world?” asked Dawn. “We both know it’s possible, that the pull of dark magicks is strong. And Madelyn’s just a child. What does she know about resisting temptation? But you do. You’ve cast some of the darkest magicks imaginable, and you’ve still turned into nothing more scary than the neighborhood cat lady.”
“It wasn’t an easy path, Dawn. You of all people must know that.”
Dawn sighed. “It’s not the fate I would have chosen for her. But it wasn’t my choice to make.”
Amy nodded. “Very well, then. I will do for her what I can, teach her what I know.”
Dawn pulled a small PC out of her pocket, pressed a small button. Before there was even any visible change, Amy could feel the shift in the visible fabric as Madelyn teleported into the room. Such a spell would (and, Amy knew, often did) knock a low-level user like Dawn completely unconscious. Madelyn, on the other hand, wasn’t even fatigued. The Force is strong with this one, Amy thought.
“Welcome to Los Angeles,” Amy said to the girl. “It is time for you to embrace your dark side.”
Both Madelyn and Dawn stayed for the next few days. Amy taught Madelyn what she could. Althanea has been quite complete in Madelyn’s training, and there was little in terms of technique that Amy could show the girl. So instead she focused on the dark arts, having Madelyn cast spells that were progressively darker and darker.
“Don’t worry about the balance,” Amy instructed. “Just let yourself go: your anger, your greed, your desire for all of it. Don’t worry about other people, about their pain or their lives. Just focus on your power.”
And Amy could feel the shift as the girl let herself go. Her eyes turned a familiar black, even as Madelyn’s red hair suddenly became a shade of jet. The power emanating from her double, tripled, increased exponentially as she gave into the darkness, imposing her will on the universe.
And then the moment, and Madelyn pulled away from the darkness. She stood in the middle of a room again, her hair red and her eyes blue again.
“That,” Amy said, “is what you can become. You give into it, and you will be capable of anything—even hurting those you love the most.”
“Don’t you miss it?” asked Madelyn. “The power?”
“Every moment,” answered Amy. “There’s not a single moment when I don’t crave it.”
Meanwhile, Dawn conducted the business of the Watcher’s Council via computer. The operations of the Council spanned the globe, with Slayers on every continent except Antartica, and Dawn was just capable of coordinating their efforts from Los Angeles as she was from London.
Occasionally, Dawn would check in on Madelyn’s progress, observing Amy’s training sessions. Amy would watch Dawn watch her black-haired niece unleash her considerable power during these sessions, and sometimes it seemed to Amy that this connection with Madelyn’s dark side was taking as much a toll on Dawn as it was on the girl herself.
“You don’t have to stay here, you know,” Amy told her once. “I can train her by myself.”
But Dawn just shook her head. “I can’t ask her to undergo something I can’t go through myself,” she said.
“We each have our own burdens to bear. Every single Slayer on this planet relies on you for guidance. Madelyn’s challenges are her own. You can’t take everything onto yourself.”
“She’s Buffy daughter,” Dawn had said, and Amy knew that was that.
It was that night, when Amy was about to go to bed, that there was a knock on her bedroom door. She opened the door to reveal Dawn, dressed in her nightgown as if she had suddenly had a thought and rushed to Amy’s door.
Her cheeks were wet.
“I can’t do this anymore,” said Dawn Summers, head of the Council, the woman who commanded an army of Slayers, who had led them into battle on more than one occasion. Her voice was firm. “I’ve lost too many girls, had to sacrifice too many of them, send them into battle, to their deaths. I won’t lose Madelyn, too.”
Amy, unsure of what to do, let instinct take over and took Dawn into her arms. The Watcher was taller, but she let herself be held, rested her head on Amy’s, and released a series of sobs. Amy just held her tight.
“None of us asked for this,” Amy said. “If we had our way, we’d have normal jobs with normal children, and on the weekends we’d call up our mothers who loved us. But we soldier on. You and I’ve done it for years, Dawn. Now we need to teach Madelyn to do it.”
Dawn pulled away from Amy, looked the witch in her eyes. “I wanted something better for Madelyn,” she said. “I wanted to save her from this.”
“Here, come in,” Amy said, leading Dawn into the room and gesturing for her to sit. “I suppose every parent wants that for their children. But sometimes that’s just not possible. The time comes when you have to just let go and let her do what she needs to do.”
“I know,” said Dawn. “It’s just hard. It may be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
Coming from the woman who single-handedly ran the campaign against the Gurnth’far invasion, this was saying quite a bit, Amy mused.
She walked back over to Dawn, placed her hand on the Watcher’s shoulder. She didn’t say anything, for what could she say? She had never had children. How could she really guess what Dawn was going through?
Dawn put her hand around the arm on her shoulder, used it to pull herself up towards Amy. To Amy, not stopping when her lips met Amy’s. And then Dawn was pulling Amy down onto her bed, removing her clothing, and then—
Amy noticed that Dawn left on her wedding ring through it all, and didn’t say a word.
An End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 06:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 03:52 pm (UTC)Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 11:20 am (UTC)Loved the way you foreshadowed so much in just the first part, and even threw in Rack! Lovely use of continuity and loved the fruit punch description.
Finally, killer last line. I'm jealous. :P Thank you very much.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 03:57 pm (UTC)I had a rough outline when I started, but much of the foreshadowing and parallels and resonances and thematic echoes and whatnot didn't develop until I started writing. I love it when that happens.
Writing this gave me an added excuse to watch "Amends" around Christmastime, which was nice. I'm a canon whore, so utilizing continuity when I tell a story is important to me.
Thanks again!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 08:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 09:06 pm (UTC)Disovering what one's story is really about, seeing everything fall into place, is a large part of what makes writing worthwhile in the first place.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 08:32 pm (UTC)One little thing, 'Devonshire coven' jars me horribly. The county is Devon, whereas Devonshire usually only gets used for the Duke and Duchess of... (I used to work on their estate in the lambing season, hence the personal bugbear). And of course for pubs bearing their Arms (certain of which I used to drink in).
Gina (Derbyshire born, Derbyshire bred. Strong in th'arm and wick in th'ead.)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 08:50 pm (UTC)(I know one of these days somebody's going to attack me for mischaracterizing Wicca or chaos magick or something, and all I'll be able to do will be to blame Joss.)
Other than that gripe, though, I'm glad you enjoyed the story.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 09:13 pm (UTC)I know other people are going to get twitchy about my nominally Christian ceremonial magician hero, but somehow that worries me less.
Gina
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 10:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-29 07:27 am (UTC)Gina
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-04 02:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-24 11:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-25 12:54 am (UTC)Amy/Faith scene in the beginning, the conversation.
Date: 2014-04-30 05:28 pm (UTC)I honestly expected her to say that! And, by the way, I am rather glad she didn't.
However, Alixtii, I DO think, and believe, that Amy would find something that horrible fun to do. (Like assaulting somebody intimately, why? Amy is Quite possibly a sorceress!)
Is that what you meant to imply?
Signed:
James.