Here's a fic.
This was written for
still_grrr for the prompt "Winter Solstice", and for
good__evil's Dec 08.
I went with a short post-series fic, starring the Scooby Gang - all 12 of them.
You and I, We Fly Together (one hour among many)
9:00pm
Dawn threw her math book across the room, where it hit a miniature plastic Colosseum and fell to the floor with a thump.
She sighed. Math was frustrating as ever, no matter what country you were in.
“Death, taxes, and never-ending calculus homework,” she said to the empty room. “It’s inevitable.”
The room, being empty, didn’t reply.
She checked the time. Just after nine. Buffy wouldn’t be home for at least two hours. Three, if her patrol team met up for coffee post-slayage. Which, yeah, fine, team-building, and a support system, and shared experiences and all - it was a good way of doing things, and Dawn was all for it.
But she was bored.
Here she was in Rome, city of adventure, dreams, and awesome gelato, less than a week to go til Christmas… The possibilities were endless…
And what was she doing? Sitting in her Italian, tinsel-filled apartment, a fridge full of pizza and champagne at her disposal, doing… math homework.
Boring…
She crossed the room, pulled her laptop out from under a clockwork model of the Pantheon (Buffy had the worst taste in souvenirs), and settled comfortably on the couch.
The website loaded quickly, and Dawn logged in and began another entry.
- - - - - - - - - - -
green_gate posts to Slayerwatch, Dec 22:
Ciao from European headquarters!
We’ve had a good week so far. The Dark Lord Marco (and minions) was defeated with no casualties on our side.
There was also a sale on designer clothes in L’Aquila last weekend - which made our beloved Head Slayer very excited.
“December Dusting” update: team Germany is still in the lead, with a recorded 374 stakings so far. But with one week to go, they’d better watch their backs: team Spain put in a great effort this week, and are slowly catching up.
Today: December 22nd is the winter solstice this year. It’s also the day George Eliot and Beatrix Potter died, the birth date of Watcher Tammias Gage, who trained over 16 Slayers before his death by goat trampling, and the International Day of Poetic Justice.
To all readers, “Happy Yule”, and “May Karma Hit Hard”.
Signing out, Dawn.
- - - - - - - - - - -
As she finished typing, a flashing message appeared in the bottom of the screen.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: Greetings from London! How goes your efforts in the fight against evil?
Andrew. Dawn grinned, and settled in for a lengthy chat.
* * * * *
4:12am
“I know you hate the long-winded explanations.”
She just looked at him, quizzically.
“And sometimes I need to get to the point sooner,” Robin kept going, patiently. “I understand that.”
More blank looks. She wasn’t fooling him, though. He’d been around her long enough by now to know the difference between ‘sorry sir, don’t understand a word, and so you can’t stop me sir’, and genuine translation difficulties.
This time she was just a bit too smug to be sincere.
He ignored her, and continued, “But when we’re telling someone for the first time that she’s a slayer, we need to do it gently. Rather than just throwing a knife at her head.”
She looked up at him. “What? It worked.”
And she was right - it had. Robin sighed, and stopped arguing.
Chao-Ahn went back to polishing her axe, smugness written on every inch of her face.
* * * * *
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Little known fact - calculus was invented by the forces of darkness in an attempt to drain the human spirit of all hope.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: Which would mean that math teachers are evil.
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Definitely.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: Want me to ask Mr Giles to put them on the high priority slayage list?
* * * * *
5:19pm
“It seems strange.”
Willow was kissing her neck, intently working her way from shoulder to jawline, but managed a muffled “Whht dz?” to show she was listening.
“Christmas. In summer.”
“Mmm.”
Kennedy kept watching the horizon, where a ship of some kind was moving slowly south. “I’m used to snow. And fires in fireplaces. And Christmas trees.” Willow was doing something very distracting behind her right ear, but she tried to concentrate on what she was saying. “The days should be getting shorter, not longer.”
“No fno insf amay.”
Kennedy turned. “What?”
Willow desisted long enough to say it clearly - “There was no snow in Sunnydale.” - and then turned her attention to Kennedy’s midriff.
“True, but at least that was winter. Kinda.” She dug her fingers into the sand. She was finding it increasingly hard to sit still. “It just doesn’t feel right.”
Willow paused, and looked up, worried. “It doesn’t feel right?”
“Oh, no, that does, especially when you - oh. Yeah, that’s- Oh. Good.” Kennedy took a deep breath, and kept talking - calmly. “But the whole wearing-summer-clothes thing, when Christmas is in three days… It just isn’t how this works.”
“Mmhmm.”
“It’s December. We should not be sitting on a beach right now.”
“Nothing wrong with beaches.” Willow, hair coming out in messy strands from underneath the blue scarf she’d tied round her head, brought her face up level with Kennedy’s, and smiled. “Especially when there’s no-one else here.”
“That’s true.” Kennedy grinned, and rolled Willow over, pinning her to the beach towel. “Very true.”
* * * * *
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Wait. Walking skeletons? Seriously?
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: Uh-huh. With bits of flesh still hanging off them.
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Eww.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: They were taking over the entire town, and everyone was running around screaming.
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Wow.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: And then, Johnny Depp escaped from jail, and started going after the pirate captain again.
* * * * *
11:31pm
The driver’s side door was wrenched open, and Xander came crashing through, followed closely by Kimi.
There were frantic cries of “Close it! Close the door!”, a mad scrabble for the keys, and Kimi floored it.
Behind them, in the darkness, two Red Kanesh demons slowed to a halt and watched, infuriated, as their prey sped off.
Xander dropped his sword on the floor, and breathed a sigh of relief. “That was a close one,” he said, adding with a glance at the back seat, “And you could have been a bit more help.”
Rona glanced up and replied, “Looked like you were doing alright without me.” She returned to what she was doing. “Besides, I was busy.”
“Remember that bit where you’re a Slayer?”
“What? I slayed. I slayed a whole nest of vamps tonight, using this single piece of pointy wood, in case you’re forgetting. You’re the one who wanted to go after the red demons too.”
“The Red Kanesh. And according to my research, they’re a vicious tribe of soul-hunters, who-” He stopped mid-sentence, and said, horrified, “Oh no. I’m turning into Giles.”
Kimi and Rona exchanged a smirk through the rear-view mirror.
Xander sighed ruefully, and then turned back to Rona. His brow wrinkled. “What are you doing?”
She kept typing. “Using the net, Einstein.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. Dawn’s posted again, by the way.”
He grabbed a bag of corn-chips from the glove compartment, and opened it. “I thought you dropped the computer in the river,” he said, round a mouthful.
“I did.”
“So how is it still working?”
Rona took a couple of the offered chips, and explained, “Well, it turns out, when Willow did that whole doesn’t-need-charging mojo, she also made it so that the thing can be leaking mud from all sides and still get broadband. Pretty handy.”
The car jolted over a large bump, sending chips flying everywhere.
Kimi grimaced. “Apologies. Can’t see the road very well.”
“We’re on a road?”
Rona picked up the laptop from the floor. “No problem. Pretty sure this would still work if we hacked it to pieces.” She looked up. “Hey, did you know that today is winter solstice?”
“It is?”
“Apparently.” Rona grinned. “Weird, huh? Winter. You’d never know it, from all the blistering heat.”
“The next village we reach, we’ll buy ski-gear from the locals,” offered Xander. “As long as you help with the slayage tonight. Deal?”
“Deal.”
* * * * *
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: That’s weird. Buffy just came home.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: Isn’t she early?
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Yeah. Very.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: Any idea why she’s home already?
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: I’ll ask her once she gets out of the shower.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: Shower?
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Green slime.
* * * * *
1:46pm
She had an apple pie in one hand, a ketchup bottle in the other, a quiver full of garlic bread on her back, and three Twinkies in her left pocket.
She also had custard in her hair, pastry all over one shoe, and some bits of lettuce down her back that were getting real itchy.
She was starting to think this wasn’t such a good idea.
Sure, combining capture-the-flag with a food fight had sounded like a great way to spice up training sessions after their fifth round of vodka last night - but then, Vi’s suggestions always did sound like great ideas.
Until you tried them, and discovered that Vi was way better at weird training than she looked. Whenever she ran a session, there was utter chaos, insane fits of laughter, and Vi’s team wiping the floor with everyone else.
She’d kicked ass at Stakes & Shakespeare, crossbowed the final target in Hockey Xtreme!, and won every round of Strip-poker Slamdown.
And the weird thing was, it worked. The groupies were getting a wicked fighting style, with some major moves she’d never even thought of.
“The way I see it,” Vi had explained over beers, “it’s surprising. I mean, I’ve been training since I was eleven, and it gets boring. Same-y. You need to learn how adrenalin works - how excitement changes it all.” She grinned. “Plus - this is fun.”
She was right. And it was seriously fun. Faith was just getting kinda freaked out by being the sane one.
* * * * *
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Okay. I’ve got it. Cyclops, Iceman, Mystique, and Rogue.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: Reasons?
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Iceman would keep the drinks cool, Cyclops could zap annoying guests at other tables, and Mystique can turn into pretty much anyone, so you’d end up having dinner with all the X-men, rather than just four.
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: And Rogue?
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: What? She has pretty hair.
* * * * *
8:52pm
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: Really? I like Storm’s mu
“Andrew,” Giles shut the door behind him, and closed his umbrella. “Can you check if there’s anyone left in York?”
the_great_wells@slayerchat.wrnet: BRB. Mr Giles has returned.
Andrew stopped typing, and spun his chair around. “York? Yeah - Katherine Fletcher is there. She retired five years ago, so she’s probably pretty old.”
Giles nodded. “Okay. Get her number for me, will you. I’ll need to call her tomorrow about some accounts.”
“Sure.” His laptop beeped, and he looked down at the screen. “I think this is for you.”
summersgirl@slayerchat.wrnet: Tell him that Cresotte eggs explode when you stab them.
Giles sighed, and typed a reply.
r_giles@slayerchat.wrnet: Yes, I know that. If you recall, I mentioned it when you requested information on Saturday.
summersgirl@slayerchat.wrnet: But slime, Giles! Slime!
r_giles@slayerchat.wrnet: Indeed.
summersgirl@slayerchat.wrnet: All over my new Shapelli top!
r_giles@slayerchat.wrnet: Very unfortunate.
summersgirl@slayerchat.wrnet: It smells really gross, too.
r_giles@slayerchat.wrnet: How is Dawn?
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: I’m fine.
summersgirl@slayerchat.wrnet: She hasn’t finished her homework.
green_gate@slayerchat.wrnet: Well, I was bored…