Illyria Ficathon: 'Blue Dreaming' for nikitangel
Blue Dreaming by debxena
RATING: PG (for use of language)
CHARACTER: Faith / Illyria
SPOILERS: Late Angel S5
DISCLAIMER: Joss is god - all belongs to Joss. Including these two characters.
FEEDBACK: In verbal, written or liquid form - yes please!
NOTES: Written for nikitangel, as part of the Illyria Ficathon. Requirements listed at the end of the fic.
THANKS: to thomasina75 for sharing ideas and doing a great beta job.
Faith had dreamt of this. She’d dreamt she could smell and feel the rain, warm and chilling in the way that only California weather could be. She dreamt of looking up at the glassy walls of the Wolfram & Hart building, seeing the damp night-sky looming over. Dreamt of the gnawing tightness in her gut, the feeling of dread at being back in the City of Angels - the City of Angelus.
Now, standing across from the very same glass building, under an overhang so that the rain dripped onto the pavement a few inches from her boots, she remembered both the dream and the reality. After all, she’d felt and seen and been all of that before. Walked into Wolfram & Hart and offered to kill Angel for them (remembering the feel of bashing the snivelling lawyer’s head into the desk). Screamed in the downpour and wanted to die (and she’d hurt Wesley so bad and why wouldn’t the pain stop?). Felt the fear of the yet-to-happen, filled with Orpheus and waiting for the moment that she would fight Angelus and feel his bite.
But it was a new reality now. Slayers emerging all over the world. Angel (Angelus?) running Wolfram & Hart. Spike alive. Cordelia dead. And Faith freed from jail, redeemed and forgiven (by some, at least). And back in LA, all because of a dream.
She’d dreamt of blue. Didn’t know what it meant, except that it called to her. And that it was here.
~*~
She’d been watching the building for an hour now. Reconnaissance was one of the first things she’d learnt, even before being called (scout the trailer- is Dad passed out or are the fists still swinging?). She stood under the shelter and watched staff, clients (demons, enemies) and lackeys leaving the main doors. She hadn’t recognised anyone so far, and in some ways that made it easier. It wasn’t as if she had any real reason to be here (except for the dream of blue), and Andrew had left her with the impression that people affiliated with The New Council wouldn’t exactly be welcomed.
And an hour was long enough, she abruptly decided. Late afternoon had given way to night, and so may as well get some building-action instead of battling the undead. (Of course, that could still happen.) She ducked out from the alcove and crossed the road.
And stopped abruptly upon reaching the entrance, as a familiar face walked out the doors.
“Faith! I saw you from my office window and I thought I’d come down and say hello - is Angel expecting you? It’s been ages since you visited and did anyone else come with you and oh but I’m talking too much, you still make me a little nervous, you know. Come in out of the rain.” (I know her - Fred the science geek.) She looked good, perky in a flip skirt and long-sleeved satin shirt, her hair tucked behind her ears and an umbrella keeping the raindrops at bay.
“Fred, hi.” Faith exhaled the breath she’d held too long, and tentatively moved toward her. (A friendly face.) “No, Angel didn’t call - I had a slayer dream. How’ve you been?”
“There’ve been some changes. I guess your dream told you that; isn’t that why you’re here? Not like last year, but still it’s great that you’ve shown up and you should come inside and see everyone.” Fred pulled the door open with her free hand, ushered Faith in, and closed her umbrella. They walked through into the brightly-lit general lobby. It was completely deserted, and she wondered briefly where everyone had gone - didn’t people work past nightfall in this place? “Don’t worry Faith, it’s safe here and we’re not evil. Did you want to go up to Angel’s offices? They’re on 12th, so we’ll need to take the elevator.”
(Safe here? I’ll believe that when I see it.) “Uh, in a minute. So, tell me what’s been happening since I was here last.”
“Well, there have been a lot of changes, comin’ to work here being the least of them!” She let out a little giggle. “Spike’s alive - I suppose you know that? Cordelia died when she was still in her coma, Angel was a puppet for a while, and as for me … well, I might be better off just showing you. Don’t be too surprised, ‘kay?” Fred flashed a brilliant grin at Faith, then stood immobile as blue suffused her from toe to head, her clothes changing from a skirt and shirt into supple brown leather armor. Warm eyes metamorphosed into chill blue, and the transformation was complete.
But when she spoke, it was still the same voice. “See Faith, it’s still me, only it’s not. Fred’s body was the vessel for me to be reborn into this world.” She paused, touched her hair. Her voice hardened. “I am Illyria, the God King, from the time before. Transverser of time and lord of dimensions.” Another pause. “I thought it might be less … difficult if I introduced myself to you as Fred, until we were able to come inside.”
~*~
(What the hell is this, huh?) Faith hadn’t moved except for tensing; the atmosphere had transformed as abruptly as Illyria - from wary to perturbed and ready for a fight. Now she shifted, walking around Illyria and seeing her from all sides. All traces of Fred had vanished. “You killed her?” she asked.
“No. This body was chosen for me as the most worthy. The choice was not mine, although I have found it to be satisfactory. Fred’s annihilation was merely a side-effect. However, many of her memories and aspects have remained with this shell, and accessing them is helping me to understand this time and place. She remembers you well.”
Faith’s mind was working quickly, assimilating dream and reality, past horrors and present possibilities. She sensed that Illyria did not bother with deception normally; had only presented herself as Fred to put Faith at ease. “Are you evil? ‘Cause I kill evil.”
“You are a Slayer - one of the old school, like the Buffy that Spike speaks of. You are an enhanced human with demonic ability. Do you think of yourself as evil?” Faith looked at her, measuring but not answering. Illyria continued. “You dreamt of me.”
“How did you know that? Were you in my head?” Faith was appalled.
“No. But while I can no longer walk time, I still walk memories of Fred and hear the drunken reminiscences of Wesley. Too often in the last weeks I have seen you, Fred, and Lilah in his eyes. Just as I can see myself in yours. Did you know that it was me you were dreaming of?”
“No.” Faith relaxed just a little, felt compelled to be honest in return. “It was murky. I knew it had something to do with LA, with Angel and Wolfram & Hart. There was so much … blue. You.”
“This body is attracted to you. Were you and Fred close?”
Faith retreated into sarcasm, sassed with her hand on her hip. “What - you can’t access the memories?”
“I chose to ask you, rather than assume more of Fred’s knowledge.” She moved closer to Faith, striding imperiously forward, yet not with malice. “I wish to touch you.”
“Whoa! No touching here.” (Unless I want it.) Faith backed up rapidly, preparing herself for combat. “D’you want me to fight you?”
Illyria cocked her head, looked at her from those chill eyes and moved toward Faith. “You are a Slayer, but I possess far more strength thank you.” She stopped a few feet from her. “In our sparring, Spike is inevitably conquered, and so I would also conquer you. Yet I do not wish to harm you. I desire instead to … touch … you. Your face, your skin, your hair.” Her mouth quirked a little at this self discovery. “There are few other females of your species around me. You … intrigue me.”
~*~
(This so wasn’t what I expected. Or was it? Blue dreaming, an unexplained desire to come to LA. The rain. Illyria.) “Listen, Blue. I’m Faith. I fight and I slay. I fuck and I leave. Relationships aren’t my forte - with guys or girls. And I don’t do demons.”
Another mouth quirk, seemingly odd against the ice-blue countenance. “You misunderstand, Slayer. I am not just a demon. I am as a god to demons and to mortals such as you. Not half-breed like the vampires, not lowly dirt like the creatures that you kill. For you to be with one such as myself would be a great honour. But …” she paused, “I do not desire a relationship. I do not desire to … fuck … and then leave. I desire only to touch you. Will you allow it, or will I have to fight you?” She lifted her chin imperiously and gazed at Faith.
(Fight or touch? One and the same, same and different. I want …) Faith shut down her thoughts, tensed and felt the weapon tucked against the skin of her back. “I’m not here to fight. Well, unless I need to.”
“So you will allow me to touch you?”
“Whoa, hold up there, Blue. No more just rushing into touching for me - it gets me into trouble. But hey, let’s do the tour thing, see Angel and Spike and good ol’ Wes first. Then, um, maybe we could get a drink?”
“Your suggestion is acceptable. I shall take you to see the others. Here, take my hand and I shall show you the way.”
Faith raised an eyebrow at the idea, but it felt right. Uncertainly, she offered her left hand to Illyria, felt it covered by Illyria’s right. (Oh - she’s warm. Soft. It feels good. It feels … blue.) Hand in hand they walked towards the elevators, off to see the others. (Something new. Maybe dreams can be real … )
(1657 words)
Fic Requirements: Faith meets Illyria outside W&H and doesn't know who she is at first; optional if you write this sort of thing: Illyria feels her body attracted to Faith and is curious about human sexuality, especially Fred's - If you don't write femslash, just include a fight scene instead.
One Restriction: No "Fred was perfect" reminiscing.
RATING: PG (for use of language)
CHARACTER: Faith / Illyria
SPOILERS: Late Angel S5
DISCLAIMER: Joss is god - all belongs to Joss. Including these two characters.
FEEDBACK: In verbal, written or liquid form - yes please!
NOTES: Written for nikitangel, as part of the Illyria Ficathon. Requirements listed at the end of the fic.
THANKS: to thomasina75 for sharing ideas and doing a great beta job.
Faith had dreamt of this. She’d dreamt she could smell and feel the rain, warm and chilling in the way that only California weather could be. She dreamt of looking up at the glassy walls of the Wolfram & Hart building, seeing the damp night-sky looming over. Dreamt of the gnawing tightness in her gut, the feeling of dread at being back in the City of Angels - the City of Angelus.
Now, standing across from the very same glass building, under an overhang so that the rain dripped onto the pavement a few inches from her boots, she remembered both the dream and the reality. After all, she’d felt and seen and been all of that before. Walked into Wolfram & Hart and offered to kill Angel for them (remembering the feel of bashing the snivelling lawyer’s head into the desk). Screamed in the downpour and wanted to die (and she’d hurt Wesley so bad and why wouldn’t the pain stop?). Felt the fear of the yet-to-happen, filled with Orpheus and waiting for the moment that she would fight Angelus and feel his bite.
But it was a new reality now. Slayers emerging all over the world. Angel (Angelus?) running Wolfram & Hart. Spike alive. Cordelia dead. And Faith freed from jail, redeemed and forgiven (by some, at least). And back in LA, all because of a dream.
She’d dreamt of blue. Didn’t know what it meant, except that it called to her. And that it was here.
~*~
She’d been watching the building for an hour now. Reconnaissance was one of the first things she’d learnt, even before being called (scout the trailer- is Dad passed out or are the fists still swinging?). She stood under the shelter and watched staff, clients (demons, enemies) and lackeys leaving the main doors. She hadn’t recognised anyone so far, and in some ways that made it easier. It wasn’t as if she had any real reason to be here (except for the dream of blue), and Andrew had left her with the impression that people affiliated with The New Council wouldn’t exactly be welcomed.
And an hour was long enough, she abruptly decided. Late afternoon had given way to night, and so may as well get some building-action instead of battling the undead. (Of course, that could still happen.) She ducked out from the alcove and crossed the road.
And stopped abruptly upon reaching the entrance, as a familiar face walked out the doors.
“Faith! I saw you from my office window and I thought I’d come down and say hello - is Angel expecting you? It’s been ages since you visited and did anyone else come with you and oh but I’m talking too much, you still make me a little nervous, you know. Come in out of the rain.” (I know her - Fred the science geek.) She looked good, perky in a flip skirt and long-sleeved satin shirt, her hair tucked behind her ears and an umbrella keeping the raindrops at bay.
“Fred, hi.” Faith exhaled the breath she’d held too long, and tentatively moved toward her. (A friendly face.) “No, Angel didn’t call - I had a slayer dream. How’ve you been?”
“There’ve been some changes. I guess your dream told you that; isn’t that why you’re here? Not like last year, but still it’s great that you’ve shown up and you should come inside and see everyone.” Fred pulled the door open with her free hand, ushered Faith in, and closed her umbrella. They walked through into the brightly-lit general lobby. It was completely deserted, and she wondered briefly where everyone had gone - didn’t people work past nightfall in this place? “Don’t worry Faith, it’s safe here and we’re not evil. Did you want to go up to Angel’s offices? They’re on 12th, so we’ll need to take the elevator.”
(Safe here? I’ll believe that when I see it.) “Uh, in a minute. So, tell me what’s been happening since I was here last.”
“Well, there have been a lot of changes, comin’ to work here being the least of them!” She let out a little giggle. “Spike’s alive - I suppose you know that? Cordelia died when she was still in her coma, Angel was a puppet for a while, and as for me … well, I might be better off just showing you. Don’t be too surprised, ‘kay?” Fred flashed a brilliant grin at Faith, then stood immobile as blue suffused her from toe to head, her clothes changing from a skirt and shirt into supple brown leather armor. Warm eyes metamorphosed into chill blue, and the transformation was complete.
But when she spoke, it was still the same voice. “See Faith, it’s still me, only it’s not. Fred’s body was the vessel for me to be reborn into this world.” She paused, touched her hair. Her voice hardened. “I am Illyria, the God King, from the time before. Transverser of time and lord of dimensions.” Another pause. “I thought it might be less … difficult if I introduced myself to you as Fred, until we were able to come inside.”
~*~
(What the hell is this, huh?) Faith hadn’t moved except for tensing; the atmosphere had transformed as abruptly as Illyria - from wary to perturbed and ready for a fight. Now she shifted, walking around Illyria and seeing her from all sides. All traces of Fred had vanished. “You killed her?” she asked.
“No. This body was chosen for me as the most worthy. The choice was not mine, although I have found it to be satisfactory. Fred’s annihilation was merely a side-effect. However, many of her memories and aspects have remained with this shell, and accessing them is helping me to understand this time and place. She remembers you well.”
Faith’s mind was working quickly, assimilating dream and reality, past horrors and present possibilities. She sensed that Illyria did not bother with deception normally; had only presented herself as Fred to put Faith at ease. “Are you evil? ‘Cause I kill evil.”
“You are a Slayer - one of the old school, like the Buffy that Spike speaks of. You are an enhanced human with demonic ability. Do you think of yourself as evil?” Faith looked at her, measuring but not answering. Illyria continued. “You dreamt of me.”
“How did you know that? Were you in my head?” Faith was appalled.
“No. But while I can no longer walk time, I still walk memories of Fred and hear the drunken reminiscences of Wesley. Too often in the last weeks I have seen you, Fred, and Lilah in his eyes. Just as I can see myself in yours. Did you know that it was me you were dreaming of?”
“No.” Faith relaxed just a little, felt compelled to be honest in return. “It was murky. I knew it had something to do with LA, with Angel and Wolfram & Hart. There was so much … blue. You.”
“This body is attracted to you. Were you and Fred close?”
Faith retreated into sarcasm, sassed with her hand on her hip. “What - you can’t access the memories?”
“I chose to ask you, rather than assume more of Fred’s knowledge.” She moved closer to Faith, striding imperiously forward, yet not with malice. “I wish to touch you.”
“Whoa! No touching here.” (Unless I want it.) Faith backed up rapidly, preparing herself for combat. “D’you want me to fight you?”
Illyria cocked her head, looked at her from those chill eyes and moved toward Faith. “You are a Slayer, but I possess far more strength thank you.” She stopped a few feet from her. “In our sparring, Spike is inevitably conquered, and so I would also conquer you. Yet I do not wish to harm you. I desire instead to … touch … you. Your face, your skin, your hair.” Her mouth quirked a little at this self discovery. “There are few other females of your species around me. You … intrigue me.”
~*~
(This so wasn’t what I expected. Or was it? Blue dreaming, an unexplained desire to come to LA. The rain. Illyria.) “Listen, Blue. I’m Faith. I fight and I slay. I fuck and I leave. Relationships aren’t my forte - with guys or girls. And I don’t do demons.”
Another mouth quirk, seemingly odd against the ice-blue countenance. “You misunderstand, Slayer. I am not just a demon. I am as a god to demons and to mortals such as you. Not half-breed like the vampires, not lowly dirt like the creatures that you kill. For you to be with one such as myself would be a great honour. But …” she paused, “I do not desire a relationship. I do not desire to … fuck … and then leave. I desire only to touch you. Will you allow it, or will I have to fight you?” She lifted her chin imperiously and gazed at Faith.
(Fight or touch? One and the same, same and different. I want …) Faith shut down her thoughts, tensed and felt the weapon tucked against the skin of her back. “I’m not here to fight. Well, unless I need to.”
“So you will allow me to touch you?”
“Whoa, hold up there, Blue. No more just rushing into touching for me - it gets me into trouble. But hey, let’s do the tour thing, see Angel and Spike and good ol’ Wes first. Then, um, maybe we could get a drink?”
“Your suggestion is acceptable. I shall take you to see the others. Here, take my hand and I shall show you the way.”
Faith raised an eyebrow at the idea, but it felt right. Uncertainly, she offered her left hand to Illyria, felt it covered by Illyria’s right. (Oh - she’s warm. Soft. It feels good. It feels … blue.) Hand in hand they walked towards the elevators, off to see the others. (Something new. Maybe dreams can be real … )
(1657 words)
Fic Requirements: Faith meets Illyria outside W&H and doesn't know who she is at first; optional if you write this sort of thing: Illyria feels her body attracted to Faith and is curious about human sexuality, especially Fred's - If you don't write femslash, just include a fight scene instead.
One Restriction: No "Fred was perfect" reminiscing.