FIC: Best Dressed (Dawn/Faith, Buffy/Angel, PG-13)
TITLE: Best Dressed
RATING: PG-13
FANDOMS: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel
PAIRING: Dawn/Faith, peripheral Buffy/Angel
SUMMARY: Post-“Chosen” and “NFA,” and completely oblivious to S8. A sequel to Fixer Uppers, though that is not required reading.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for femslash_minis fandom tropes and clichés round for brutti_ma_buoni who wanted “together they fight crime,” lighthearted, and a bird of prey.
The four of them stood outside watching the installation crew hang the new sign.
“I think this is kind of dumb,” Faith said. “I mean, we’re private investigators-emphasis on private.”
“My emphasis is on getting paid for getting my ass kicked on the regular,” Connor said. “You know how much business you bring in by being private?”
“And how come it’s Angel Investigations still?” Dawn asked. “I mean, Angel, no offense, but you’re not really at the top of your game-” Everyone glanced at Angel’s cane. “-and we have a Slayer on board now.”
“I think you’re biased,” Angel said dryly as Dawn slipped her hand into the back pocket of Faith’s jeans. “Also, ‘Angel Investigations’ is already licensed and bonded.”
That settled it.
***
A year after L.A. had literally become hell on earth, things were good. The Slayer invasion had calmed things down enough for people to go on living normal lives. Even the crew at the newly rechristened Angel Investigations were living normal lives … well, lives as normal as they got, anyway.
Faith hopped down the stairs into the lobby of the Hyperion and found it uncharacteristically quiet.
“Hello?” She spotted Connor snacking on the couch, and plopped down beside him. “Where is everybody?”
“Dad and Buffy are at the florists. The Slayerettes are doing some kind of reconnaissance training that sounded an awful lot to me like a scavenger hunt-”
“That’s how you got that bruise on your jaw, isn’t it?” Faith laughed.
Connor rubbed it dolefully. “Kennedy doesn’t take suggestions well.”
“Is Dawn on maneuvers?”
“Isn’t it your job to keep track of Dawn?”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Faith said.
“Okay, I’m ready!” Dawn yelled from down the hall.
Faith’s brow pinched. Ready? Ready for what?
Connor jumped to his feet. “Uh oh. I’m out of here.”
“Hey, wait-”
The door was still swinging shut when Dawn appeared. Faith blinked, wondering briefly if she had a concussion she didn’t know about. Dawn was wearing taffeta. In real life. She was wearing a dress, a frosty grey dress that hugged her bodice and then got a little slinky around her heels, which were the same frosty grey and impossibly tall.
Faith nearly fell off the couch. “What bizarro world did I wake up in?”
Dawn frowned. “It’s my bridesmaid’s dress, doofus. For the wedding? It just came in, and Buffy insisted that I try it on immediately to see how it looks. So?”
Faith blinked. “So what?”
Dawn’s mouth pinched in annoyance. “How’s it look?”
“Oh, um-uncomfortable.”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “On me! How does it look on me?”
“Oh. Well. I’ll need a closer look, I guess.”
Dawn sighed, but she stayed perfectly still while Faith rose from the couch and circled around her. The dress was … a dress, Faith guessed, but she certainly had no complaints about the girl inside it. The silk taffeta hugged Dawn’s every lovely curve, and bared her collarbones. Faith liked that part of Dawn, not to mention what was immediately below … that whole area, really, was pretty nice.
“You are staring at my chest,” Dawn said.
“You look beautiful,” Faith said at the same time.
Dawn’s freckled cheeks colored a little. “I do?”
“Yes. That dress looks absolutely beautiful on you.” Faith took Dawn in her arms. “You know where it would look even better … ?”
Dawn rolled her eyes again. “On the floor,” she said, but then she let herself be kissed.
***
“I’m still a little bummed we couldn’t name the new business Faith Investigations,” Dawn said. Their legs wiggled under the taffeta.
Faith yawned. “That sounds like a ministry.”
“Or … Faith and Dawn Investigations!” Dawn said. “Together they fight crime.”
Faith laughed. “Together they-”
Dawn pressed Faith’s head down to her naked chest, and the expletive was muffled in creamy, freckled skin.
“And then we could have a cool, Charlie’s Angels-style logo, instead of that weird hawk.”
“I think it’s an angel,” Faith said, coming up for air.
“Yeah, whatever.” Dawn idly twisted a strand of Faith’s hair around her finger. “So, really, what do you think of the dress?”
Faith stopped pressing kisses to Dawn’s chest and pinched the taffeta. “It’s nice.” She hugged Dawn around the middle. “I think you look much better like this, though.”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “Well. Obviously.”