Ficlet: Open Doors (Dawn/Lilah)
(Set some point in the not-too-distant future, no spoilers for unaired episodes)
Hey little girl, does your mother know you’re out?
Well, in this case it would rather be big sister, just back from Europe and according to Lilah’s sources last seen in Angel’s office yelling at him to forget “Just forget about the damn cookies!”
Champions. Who could be bothered to even try to understand them?
Not when you’ve got Dawn Summers sitting on the bar stool next to yours, looking up into your eyes with nervousness her obvious interest simply can’t conceal.
They each know who the other is, what they’ve done but does the kid really know what she’s letting herself in for?
Lilah does. She can see it all glittering before her - Angel’s impotent fury increased by the pouting anger of the Slayer. Their precious innocent Key tarnished by the Big Bad Lilah. The shock. The surprise. The speculation from everyone about just where the hell this fits into her grand plan for revenge on the world of which she can no longer truly be a part. If Dawn alone didn’t do it, the thought would be enough to get her all wet.
And there would be Wesley, distressed and not knowing precisely why, trapped in two sets of false memories.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” says Dawn, the faint trace of teenage petulance marring her attempted sophistication. “They don’t seem to see that, but I can show you.” And there is her hand against Lilah’s thigh.
And maybe Dawn’s not as unaware as might be expected. Maybe her reasons aren’t too dissimilar from Lilah’s own: sex, fun, announcing to the world just who are you and that you aren’t about to go away. Maybe they could use each other, she considers as they walkout of the bar arm in arm, Dawn only pausing to blow a kiss at the flunky ineptly spying on them.
Oh yes. Their world is just about to get a whole lot more interesting.
Hey little girl, does your mother know you’re out?
Well, in this case it would rather be big sister, just back from Europe and according to Lilah’s sources last seen in Angel’s office yelling at him to forget “Just forget about the damn cookies!”
Champions. Who could be bothered to even try to understand them?
Not when you’ve got Dawn Summers sitting on the bar stool next to yours, looking up into your eyes with nervousness her obvious interest simply can’t conceal.
They each know who the other is, what they’ve done but does the kid really know what she’s letting herself in for?
Lilah does. She can see it all glittering before her - Angel’s impotent fury increased by the pouting anger of the Slayer. Their precious innocent Key tarnished by the Big Bad Lilah. The shock. The surprise. The speculation from everyone about just where the hell this fits into her grand plan for revenge on the world of which she can no longer truly be a part. If Dawn alone didn’t do it, the thought would be enough to get her all wet.
And there would be Wesley, distressed and not knowing precisely why, trapped in two sets of false memories.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” says Dawn, the faint trace of teenage petulance marring her attempted sophistication. “They don’t seem to see that, but I can show you.” And there is her hand against Lilah’s thigh.
And maybe Dawn’s not as unaware as might be expected. Maybe her reasons aren’t too dissimilar from Lilah’s own: sex, fun, announcing to the world just who are you and that you aren’t about to go away. Maybe they could use each other, she considers as they walkout of the bar arm in arm, Dawn only pausing to blow a kiss at the flunky ineptly spying on them.
Oh yes. Their world is just about to get a whole lot more interesting.