fic:give up the ghost, btvs/alpha&omega
Title: Give up the Ghost
Chapter 1: A Day in the Life
Prompt: #442 sidekick @ tamingthemuse
Rating: FR13
Disclaimer: BtVS and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon and ME. The Alpha and Omega Series and all related characters are copyright of Patricia Briggs and Ace. No infringement intended.
Summary: Leah Cornick was a lot of things (most of them bad), but none would’ve guessed that she was a Slayer trapped within a wish.
The steady stream of base from the speakers in the living room hurt her ears and made her smile. Leah Cornick enjoyed filling her home with music her husband loathed while he was out-and, sometimes, while he was in. It was the simple pleasures that brought the most joy when one’s life was extended beyond its intended time. She hummed along to one of the popular songs of today as she brought the knife through a cucumber to remove the ends. Sliding the bitter pieces to the side with the edge of the blade she brought it back to center and made quick work of the rest.
The slices were added to the plate beside the carrots and tomatoes to be devoured momentarily. Bran was enjoying his son’s company at the moment which meant she could make her lunch in peace. There was no one there to insist she needed protein and then force it upon her. Leah liked meat, she was a werewolf, but she also liked vegetables and fruit and things that hadn’t mooed before they expired. There had been a time once when she had to watch her figure and she’d learned to enjoy the food that didn’t go straight to her hips. She still enjoyed it.
Leah turned to the sink and rinsed the knife before leaving it there to be cleaned with the plate later. She spun on her bare foot and made her way towards the massive refrigerator that dominated the kitchen. It was opened to reveal an overabundance of said meat, but along the inside of the door she located the hummus. Snagging the container she closed the door with a swing of her hip before turning back to the island.
She deposited the treat on the plate next to the vegetables, and it was a treat because Bran disliked the scent of hummus, but Leah enjoyed the salty flavor too much to simply give it up. Instead she waited until he was out and she had time to wash dishes and thoroughly brush her teeth before he returned-unless he’d done something stupid recently and then she’d more than likely leave the container open in the living room. That morning Bran had kissed her temple before he left for Charles’ which meant she’d clean up after this bit of alone time.
Her wolf always wanted her to ignore the slights-one of the few things they disagreed on-but as far as she figured Bran shouldn’t have mated a woman such as herself if he wanted to be coddled. Leah sniffed out her irritation before curling into a corner of the couch and used a carrot stick to smear an obscene amount of hummus on a slice of cucumber. She crooned, delighted by the crunch of the vegetable and the smooth texture of the hummus.
The carrot was devoured next as another mind-numbingly simple song came on and she sank deeper into the couch and her contentment. She was enjoying the sweetness of the tomatoes when she smelled something other than smashed chickpeas and spices. Her wolf slipped forward to crowd her thoughts and battle for control as she lowered the plate to the couch and stood.
Retrieving the remote for the ottoman in front of her, she muted the music. The artist-Bran would argue against calling them that-was cut off mid-verse and the sudden quiet raised the hairs along the back of her neck. Leah’s head inclined, turning an ear towards the front door at her left. Her eyes fell closed as she, and her wolf, focused.
The scent of blood-fresh and shallow-reached her first, but the stench of magic on the heels of that coppery tang stopped her from throwing open the front door and confronting the situation head on. Dark witches were messy business and this one that was willing to court death in the Marrok’s territory was either powerful or a complete idiot.
Leah opened the connection between her and Bran and heard his surprised call of, “Leah?” inside her mind. It comforted her to hear his voice, not that she’d ever tell him that, and it helped calm the snarling wolf in her head and it was her wolf that sent her husband the stink of magic and blood. She felt his distaste, and his unease, and knew Bran, with Charles and Anna, were on their way.
Snow crunched beneath two distinct footfalls outside the front of the house; one was awkward while the other surefooted. Leah looked towards the kitchen and the back entry to their home, but disregarded the thought of fleeing before it had fully formed since she’d never been a coward. Instead she stalked towards the front door and waited for the footfalls to reach it before flinging it open. A woman stood before her with wide coltish eyes in an annoyingly pretty face.
A gaped mouth detracted from the attractiveness and, for the first time since becoming a werewolf, Leah hesitated in attacking weaker prey. She faked bravado and merely raised a brow at her before looking to her surefooted companion. Another woman, who was slightly taller but considerably thinner than the first, watched her with narrowed brown eyes. Something about her set Leah’s wolf on edge. She didn’t smell anything other than human, but Leah watched as her head inclined and the movement reminded her of the birds of prey featured in the nature shows Bran enjoyed.
“B-Buffy?”
The witch’s choice of first words was confusion inducing and pulled Leah’s gaze away from her companion and her wolf growled a warning. She knew better than to take her gaze off the most dangerous thing in her vicinity and that growl trickled past her own lips. Those wide eyes filled with tears and Leah felt the oddest urge to comfort the witch. Her lips peeled back in distaste with the thought. She couldn’t smell the spell, but there had to have been one cast and she snapped, “Do you have a death wish?”
“You don’t recognize me? Of course you don’t,” she answered her own question with a shake of her head before muttering, “Dammit, D’Hoffryn.”
Leah frowned at the witch that was speaking English and yet her words still lacked all facets of sense. Her gaze narrowed and flicked to the other woman as she stepped up to the entrance and those brown eyes studied her with an equal intensity. Leah’s chin lifted in challenge and she watched as a smile curved in the corner of her mouth. Wanting to wipe that smirk away Leah opened her connection to Bran wider and attempted to pull on his strength of will to make the other woman back down.
Her smile only widened, no other reaction, and Leah’s wolf peeled back her lips to bare sharpening canines. The sudden scent of sage confused her and she sneezed as it overwhelmed her senses. It reminded her of the last time Bran had made braised chicken and dressing. He’d crushed the sage before using it and filled their home with the earthy scent and she felt Bran’s amusement with the memory.
“I’m sorry.” She frowned and looked to the witch as the magic struck her and she staggered. Bran’s amusement faded beneath his rage and it consumed her too before he closed the connection between them with enough force that she fell to her knees.
The birdlike woman entered her home and Leah or, perhaps more precisely, her wolf brought her up and onto her feet. She attempted to shake off the effect of whatever the witch had done, but her movements were sluggish and the other woman was stronger. Her elbow struck an incredibly hard chin, but she was forced to her knees and the struggle for dominance between them was over. It had been short-embarrassingly so-and tested the validity of Leah assuming her opponent was human and which of them was master.
Slim fingers wound through her hair and directed her face towards the witch. She attempted to stand, but that hand in her hair held firm and the arm that fell across her chest was heavier than steel and three times as strong. She could feel her eyes bleed to wolf amber as she glared up at the witch as she stepped forward. She invaded her home and bent at the waist so that their gazes could meet.
Leah saw pity there and it grated more than the thing at her back holding her immobile. The witch’s hand uncurled between them and the scent of sage was overpowering. A pile of dust was nestled within her palm and the vibrant blue hue was distracting a moment before it was blown into her face. She sneezed, again, and snarled at them, but the witch spoke, voice clear and directed towards her, “Memini.”
It was Latin, Leah knew that much, and that was her last thought before a searing pain spread across her mind and stole her breath. Her wolf howled in protest and for a brief moment she was able to spread that pain across the pack. She eased her own discomfort as the rest of the wolves absorbed it.
Her next breath was a shuddering thing as she realized she was on the floor and curled on her side, but the sudden, and rather annoying, urge to protect the pack had her cutting herself off again. She’d never been the self-sacrificing type-she wasn’t that strong or that foolish-but her pack was gone and she was left alone to face the torrent of emotion.
Her wolf was suppressed and beyond her reach.
Leah was alone, for the first time in decades, within her own mind.
Until that too became a lie and she lost herself to the dark.
Chapter 1: A Day in the Life
Prompt: #442 sidekick @ tamingthemuse
Rating: FR13
Disclaimer: BtVS and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon and ME. The Alpha and Omega Series and all related characters are copyright of Patricia Briggs and Ace. No infringement intended.
Summary: Leah Cornick was a lot of things (most of them bad), but none would’ve guessed that she was a Slayer trapped within a wish.
The steady stream of base from the speakers in the living room hurt her ears and made her smile. Leah Cornick enjoyed filling her home with music her husband loathed while he was out-and, sometimes, while he was in. It was the simple pleasures that brought the most joy when one’s life was extended beyond its intended time. She hummed along to one of the popular songs of today as she brought the knife through a cucumber to remove the ends. Sliding the bitter pieces to the side with the edge of the blade she brought it back to center and made quick work of the rest.
The slices were added to the plate beside the carrots and tomatoes to be devoured momentarily. Bran was enjoying his son’s company at the moment which meant she could make her lunch in peace. There was no one there to insist she needed protein and then force it upon her. Leah liked meat, she was a werewolf, but she also liked vegetables and fruit and things that hadn’t mooed before they expired. There had been a time once when she had to watch her figure and she’d learned to enjoy the food that didn’t go straight to her hips. She still enjoyed it.
Leah turned to the sink and rinsed the knife before leaving it there to be cleaned with the plate later. She spun on her bare foot and made her way towards the massive refrigerator that dominated the kitchen. It was opened to reveal an overabundance of said meat, but along the inside of the door she located the hummus. Snagging the container she closed the door with a swing of her hip before turning back to the island.
She deposited the treat on the plate next to the vegetables, and it was a treat because Bran disliked the scent of hummus, but Leah enjoyed the salty flavor too much to simply give it up. Instead she waited until he was out and she had time to wash dishes and thoroughly brush her teeth before he returned-unless he’d done something stupid recently and then she’d more than likely leave the container open in the living room. That morning Bran had kissed her temple before he left for Charles’ which meant she’d clean up after this bit of alone time.
Her wolf always wanted her to ignore the slights-one of the few things they disagreed on-but as far as she figured Bran shouldn’t have mated a woman such as herself if he wanted to be coddled. Leah sniffed out her irritation before curling into a corner of the couch and used a carrot stick to smear an obscene amount of hummus on a slice of cucumber. She crooned, delighted by the crunch of the vegetable and the smooth texture of the hummus.
The carrot was devoured next as another mind-numbingly simple song came on and she sank deeper into the couch and her contentment. She was enjoying the sweetness of the tomatoes when she smelled something other than smashed chickpeas and spices. Her wolf slipped forward to crowd her thoughts and battle for control as she lowered the plate to the couch and stood.
Retrieving the remote for the ottoman in front of her, she muted the music. The artist-Bran would argue against calling them that-was cut off mid-verse and the sudden quiet raised the hairs along the back of her neck. Leah’s head inclined, turning an ear towards the front door at her left. Her eyes fell closed as she, and her wolf, focused.
The scent of blood-fresh and shallow-reached her first, but the stench of magic on the heels of that coppery tang stopped her from throwing open the front door and confronting the situation head on. Dark witches were messy business and this one that was willing to court death in the Marrok’s territory was either powerful or a complete idiot.
Leah opened the connection between her and Bran and heard his surprised call of, “Leah?” inside her mind. It comforted her to hear his voice, not that she’d ever tell him that, and it helped calm the snarling wolf in her head and it was her wolf that sent her husband the stink of magic and blood. She felt his distaste, and his unease, and knew Bran, with Charles and Anna, were on their way.
Snow crunched beneath two distinct footfalls outside the front of the house; one was awkward while the other surefooted. Leah looked towards the kitchen and the back entry to their home, but disregarded the thought of fleeing before it had fully formed since she’d never been a coward. Instead she stalked towards the front door and waited for the footfalls to reach it before flinging it open. A woman stood before her with wide coltish eyes in an annoyingly pretty face.
A gaped mouth detracted from the attractiveness and, for the first time since becoming a werewolf, Leah hesitated in attacking weaker prey. She faked bravado and merely raised a brow at her before looking to her surefooted companion. Another woman, who was slightly taller but considerably thinner than the first, watched her with narrowed brown eyes. Something about her set Leah’s wolf on edge. She didn’t smell anything other than human, but Leah watched as her head inclined and the movement reminded her of the birds of prey featured in the nature shows Bran enjoyed.
“B-Buffy?”
The witch’s choice of first words was confusion inducing and pulled Leah’s gaze away from her companion and her wolf growled a warning. She knew better than to take her gaze off the most dangerous thing in her vicinity and that growl trickled past her own lips. Those wide eyes filled with tears and Leah felt the oddest urge to comfort the witch. Her lips peeled back in distaste with the thought. She couldn’t smell the spell, but there had to have been one cast and she snapped, “Do you have a death wish?”
“You don’t recognize me? Of course you don’t,” she answered her own question with a shake of her head before muttering, “Dammit, D’Hoffryn.”
Leah frowned at the witch that was speaking English and yet her words still lacked all facets of sense. Her gaze narrowed and flicked to the other woman as she stepped up to the entrance and those brown eyes studied her with an equal intensity. Leah’s chin lifted in challenge and she watched as a smile curved in the corner of her mouth. Wanting to wipe that smirk away Leah opened her connection to Bran wider and attempted to pull on his strength of will to make the other woman back down.
Her smile only widened, no other reaction, and Leah’s wolf peeled back her lips to bare sharpening canines. The sudden scent of sage confused her and she sneezed as it overwhelmed her senses. It reminded her of the last time Bran had made braised chicken and dressing. He’d crushed the sage before using it and filled their home with the earthy scent and she felt Bran’s amusement with the memory.
“I’m sorry.” She frowned and looked to the witch as the magic struck her and she staggered. Bran’s amusement faded beneath his rage and it consumed her too before he closed the connection between them with enough force that she fell to her knees.
The birdlike woman entered her home and Leah or, perhaps more precisely, her wolf brought her up and onto her feet. She attempted to shake off the effect of whatever the witch had done, but her movements were sluggish and the other woman was stronger. Her elbow struck an incredibly hard chin, but she was forced to her knees and the struggle for dominance between them was over. It had been short-embarrassingly so-and tested the validity of Leah assuming her opponent was human and which of them was master.
Slim fingers wound through her hair and directed her face towards the witch. She attempted to stand, but that hand in her hair held firm and the arm that fell across her chest was heavier than steel and three times as strong. She could feel her eyes bleed to wolf amber as she glared up at the witch as she stepped forward. She invaded her home and bent at the waist so that their gazes could meet.
Leah saw pity there and it grated more than the thing at her back holding her immobile. The witch’s hand uncurled between them and the scent of sage was overpowering. A pile of dust was nestled within her palm and the vibrant blue hue was distracting a moment before it was blown into her face. She sneezed, again, and snarled at them, but the witch spoke, voice clear and directed towards her, “Memini.”
It was Latin, Leah knew that much, and that was her last thought before a searing pain spread across her mind and stole her breath. Her wolf howled in protest and for a brief moment she was able to spread that pain across the pack. She eased her own discomfort as the rest of the wolves absorbed it.
Her next breath was a shuddering thing as she realized she was on the floor and curled on her side, but the sudden, and rather annoying, urge to protect the pack had her cutting herself off again. She’d never been the self-sacrificing type-she wasn’t that strong or that foolish-but her pack was gone and she was left alone to face the torrent of emotion.
Her wolf was suppressed and beyond her reach.
Leah was alone, for the first time in decades, within her own mind.
Until that too became a lie and she lost herself to the dark.