Fic: Life After Sunnydale (Dawn/Faith, 1/2, Mature)
Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate! This fic is for one of my favourite people, reremouse - the super talented writer and all round awesome person! It's inspired by a prompt she gave me, and since I know she and I share a love of Dawn/Faith I wanted to post this for her on Christmas.
Title: Life After Sunnydale
Author: cordelianne
Chapter: 1/2
Characters/Pairing: Dawn/Faith
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 1,589
Disclaimer: Sadly not mine, Joss own them.
Warnings: Tacky Christmas decorations, coughing and Cheetos.
Summary: It's a post-Sunnydale and post-college life for Dawn. Now what?
A/N: Thanks to the completely wonderful savoytruffle for her invaluable beta. Any mistakes are mine (and you're always welcome to point out any to me!).
The seatbelt sign flickers off, and she smoothes her skirt, takes a deep breath and stands up.
Waiting in line to exit, her shoulder bag heavy with a laptop and books, she watches the snow slowly drift down onto the tarmac.
Snow doesn’t give Dawn the feeling that she’s coming home - even years of cheesy holiday specials haven’t convinced her of that. She only remembers that one year when it snowed at Christmas, and it was the weird one where Buffy was distant and Faith ate all the good candy.
Besides, Cleveland isn’t home, just the place where her sister - and her acolytes - live. When your hometown is a crater, there really is no going home again.
Buffy hugs her tight. So tight Dawn’s afraid she won’t let go.
But she does, and grabs Dawn’s maximum weight bags as if they weigh nothing, which they probably do to Buffy. Stupid slayer strength, why can’t that be shared between sisters?
She grips the side of the door during the drive from the airport. Buffy’s driving hasn’t improved, she’s still crazy scary behind the wheel.
It’s weird to walk into the house - some huge old house they’re in the middle of converting - and realize she knows no one. Or maybe she just doesn’t recognize the girls she survived Sunnydale with.
But then she sees Xander and it’s all alright.
She throws herself at him like she’s still a silly twelve-year-old instead of a decade older and just finished with university - and planning to never return.
It doesn’t bother Xander at all. He envelopes her in a big bear hug, lifting her feet off the ground. She’s probably still twelve in his mind. Dawn rolls her eyes.
Xander catches her. “What? I’m too uncool to be seen with a Yale grad?”
She giggles and hits his arm. He pretends to wince in pain. “Please! You’ll never be uncool, Xander.”
Buffy snickers and they both turn to fix her with a glare. She puts her arm up in protest. “Okay, okay. I know when I’m in a losing battle.”
It’s like old times.
Almost.
Of course she sees Faith again for the first time in four years when she’s shoveling spaghetti into her mouth and has tomato sauce on her chin.
Fortunately - or possibly unfortunately - Faith doesn’t even notice Dawn’s there. She’s too busy leaning over to grab some garlic bread.
Which gives Dawn a perfect view of her impressive cleavage. She finds herself staring, as if she’s never seen a girl’s cleavage before.
“See something you like?” Faith gives Dawn her ‘I know I’m hot shit’ look.
But Dawn’s seen more than a girl’s cleavage before, way more, and doesn’t blush easily. She just rolls her eyes.
Okay, so not the most seasoned - or flirty - response. In fact, she seems to revert to the teenage girl she was in Sunnydale. She blames the hellmouth - it is evil after all.
Faith saunters off, munching on the bread and Dawn admires her ass.
She has learned to appreciate the finer things in life.
A couple of nights later, Dawn throws on her jacket and lets the door slam behind her.
Outside it’s all crisp quiet.
She decides to risk a walk alone, hoping the demons and vampires are safely tucked inside, visions of innocent victims dancing in their heads.
She’s stopped to assess a lit up display of plastic Santa and reindeer, trying to gauge the exact level of tackiness, when she realizes she isn’t alone.
Campus life has made her too complacent. Did she even bring a weapon?
Her heart is pounding, that familiar Sunnydale beat of fear.
She slides a hand into her purse, and tries to project slayer confidence. All she finds are a couple of tampons, her wallet and some tissues.
Sure, she’ll just blow her nose at her attacker...
In desperation she grips a tampon.
“Aren’t you too old to be out all alone, Dawnie?”
Dawn exhales. She didn’t even know she’d been holding her breath.
“Fuck, Faith.” She crosses her arms at Faith, who’s sauntering closer, coat unzipped as if she’s too much of a badass to feel the cold. “You gave me a heart attack!”
“Whoa, didn’t know college girls knew how to swear.” Dawn can’t tell if there’s an undertone of bitterness or respect. Maybe both.
She keeps her arms crossed and meets Faith’s eyes. “It wasn’t all dead languages and ancient history, you know.” Memories of some especially fun extra circular activities make her smile. “I had a full educational experience.”
“That right?” Faith raises an eyebrow. “They teach you to wander out alone at night, askin’ for trouble?”
Faith starts walking, and since it’s away from the Slayer house Dawn falls in step. “I just couldn’t handle all that noise and the girls running around. I’m used to things being... quieter.”
“Yeah.”
They walk past a row of stores decked in so green and red she can’t even tell what’s supposed to be inside. She doubts that’s what the owners were going for.
Snow starts falling gently, like they’ve wandered onto the set of a Lifetime movie during the romantic getting-to-know-you scene.
Faith moves things up to Showtime level by lighting up a cigarette and offering one to Dawn. She hesitates for a moment before accepting.
“Don’t worry, B’s head is buried in all that Christmas shit. Won’t notice you smelling like smoke.”
“I’m not worried about Buffy,” Dawn proclaims, taking a deep inhale.
She coughs.
So much for her newfound sophistication.
Faith just chuckles and hits her on the back.
Which would have been a nicer gesture if Faith wasn’t used to hanging around girls with super strength - because Dawn? Definitely lacking in that department.
Now, super klutyness? That she has in spades.
She stumbles - cursing her cute but not practical boots - but magically doesn’t fall.
She finds herself in Faith’s arms instead.
It sounds like one of those romantic embraces on the cover of a cheesy supermarket romance novel. But it’s totally not.
Faith grabbed her from behind, just in time to stop Dawn ungracefully planting face-first into the snow.
“Thanks.” Dawn stands up with as much dignity as she can muster. She flips her hair over her shoulders. “But I wouldn’t have needed help if you hadn’t hit me that hard.”
“Wouldn’t have if you knew how to hold your smoke.” Faith takes a coughless inhale of hers to prove that she can.
Dawn inhales on hers and is thankfully cough-free this time. “Isn’t the phrase, ‘hold your liquor?’”
Faith shrugs.
They walk another block without saying anything, just smoking.
“Bet you can’t hold your liquor either.” Faith stops outside of some bar advertising ‘free wings’ on Tuesdays. “Wanna prove me wrong?”
Before Dawn can answer, her cell rings. It’s a worried Buffy.
They go back.
Dawn would have rather checked out the bar.
But she doesn’t say anything.
And Faith doesn’t seem to care that Dawn never answered her.
At least they have that whole companionable silence thing down.
Dawn’s relieved when Christmas is over and done with. Things seem to calm down a bit.
Most things anyway. Apparently the demonic population didn’t get the memo ’cause they’re out in full force.
Everyone’s out. Everyone except Dawn, Giles and Xander.
But Dawn isn’t complaining. It’s much easier to translate ancient runes without the constant sounds of yelling and smashing. Quiet is especially good because Giles has been creating a huge ‘to be translated’ pile, just for her.
Even Xander’s construction noises are soothing. Especially since he’s working on a bedroom for Dawn. With lots and lots of bookshelves.
It’s nice to have something to look forward to.
The almost silence reminds her that she has the kitchen all to herself. There’ll be room to find Cheetos, which she wants even though Giles claims she turns the rare book pages orange. She’s careful, he’s just paranoid.
She’s on her tip toes, pushing bags of chips aside looking for the Cheetos she knows must be there when she feels someone behind her.
“Need help?”
It’s Faith. Back from wherever she disappeared to the instant Christmas celebrations began.
“You do know I’m taller than you, right?”
Faith looks her up and down, a smile flits across her face. “Gotta know where to look, kid.”
The ‘kid’ hits Dawn hard, like last week’s slap on the back only ten times worse. Faith doesn’t notice, she’s bending over - black thong showing - and reaching into a low cabinet. She stands up, and holds Cheetos out to Dawn.
Later Dawn will remember that Faith knew what she was looking for. But right now? All she can hear is ‘kid’ echoing mockingly in her head.
She doesn’t take the Cheetos, takes a step toward Faith instead. “I’m not, you know...”
Faith’s eyes widen just a bit at the sudden invasion of her personal space, but she doesn’t move.
Dawn leans in closer so she’s pressed against Faith’s side, whispering into her ear. “...a kid.”
Since she’s not being pushed away, Dawn takes Faith’s chin in her hand and turns her head so they’re staring in each other’s eyes. Dawn closes the gap between them and brushes her lips against Faith’s.
Just a touch.
A purposeful tease.
And only a hint of proving herself.
She hears the sound of slayers returning from the fight just outside the door. Dawn plucks the Cheetos from Faith’s hand. “Thanks.”
She turns and leaves as the girls pour in.
No backward longing glances for Dawn.
But perhaps a sashay in her step.
Continues here
Title: Life After Sunnydale
Author: cordelianne
Chapter: 1/2
Characters/Pairing: Dawn/Faith
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 1,589
Disclaimer: Sadly not mine, Joss own them.
Warnings: Tacky Christmas decorations, coughing and Cheetos.
Summary: It's a post-Sunnydale and post-college life for Dawn. Now what?
A/N: Thanks to the completely wonderful savoytruffle for her invaluable beta. Any mistakes are mine (and you're always welcome to point out any to me!).
The seatbelt sign flickers off, and she smoothes her skirt, takes a deep breath and stands up.
Waiting in line to exit, her shoulder bag heavy with a laptop and books, she watches the snow slowly drift down onto the tarmac.
Snow doesn’t give Dawn the feeling that she’s coming home - even years of cheesy holiday specials haven’t convinced her of that. She only remembers that one year when it snowed at Christmas, and it was the weird one where Buffy was distant and Faith ate all the good candy.
Besides, Cleveland isn’t home, just the place where her sister - and her acolytes - live. When your hometown is a crater, there really is no going home again.
Buffy hugs her tight. So tight Dawn’s afraid she won’t let go.
But she does, and grabs Dawn’s maximum weight bags as if they weigh nothing, which they probably do to Buffy. Stupid slayer strength, why can’t that be shared between sisters?
She grips the side of the door during the drive from the airport. Buffy’s driving hasn’t improved, she’s still crazy scary behind the wheel.
It’s weird to walk into the house - some huge old house they’re in the middle of converting - and realize she knows no one. Or maybe she just doesn’t recognize the girls she survived Sunnydale with.
But then she sees Xander and it’s all alright.
She throws herself at him like she’s still a silly twelve-year-old instead of a decade older and just finished with university - and planning to never return.
It doesn’t bother Xander at all. He envelopes her in a big bear hug, lifting her feet off the ground. She’s probably still twelve in his mind. Dawn rolls her eyes.
Xander catches her. “What? I’m too uncool to be seen with a Yale grad?”
She giggles and hits his arm. He pretends to wince in pain. “Please! You’ll never be uncool, Xander.”
Buffy snickers and they both turn to fix her with a glare. She puts her arm up in protest. “Okay, okay. I know when I’m in a losing battle.”
It’s like old times.
Almost.
Of course she sees Faith again for the first time in four years when she’s shoveling spaghetti into her mouth and has tomato sauce on her chin.
Fortunately - or possibly unfortunately - Faith doesn’t even notice Dawn’s there. She’s too busy leaning over to grab some garlic bread.
Which gives Dawn a perfect view of her impressive cleavage. She finds herself staring, as if she’s never seen a girl’s cleavage before.
“See something you like?” Faith gives Dawn her ‘I know I’m hot shit’ look.
But Dawn’s seen more than a girl’s cleavage before, way more, and doesn’t blush easily. She just rolls her eyes.
Okay, so not the most seasoned - or flirty - response. In fact, she seems to revert to the teenage girl she was in Sunnydale. She blames the hellmouth - it is evil after all.
Faith saunters off, munching on the bread and Dawn admires her ass.
She has learned to appreciate the finer things in life.
A couple of nights later, Dawn throws on her jacket and lets the door slam behind her.
Outside it’s all crisp quiet.
She decides to risk a walk alone, hoping the demons and vampires are safely tucked inside, visions of innocent victims dancing in their heads.
She’s stopped to assess a lit up display of plastic Santa and reindeer, trying to gauge the exact level of tackiness, when she realizes she isn’t alone.
Campus life has made her too complacent. Did she even bring a weapon?
Her heart is pounding, that familiar Sunnydale beat of fear.
She slides a hand into her purse, and tries to project slayer confidence. All she finds are a couple of tampons, her wallet and some tissues.
Sure, she’ll just blow her nose at her attacker...
In desperation she grips a tampon.
“Aren’t you too old to be out all alone, Dawnie?”
Dawn exhales. She didn’t even know she’d been holding her breath.
“Fuck, Faith.” She crosses her arms at Faith, who’s sauntering closer, coat unzipped as if she’s too much of a badass to feel the cold. “You gave me a heart attack!”
“Whoa, didn’t know college girls knew how to swear.” Dawn can’t tell if there’s an undertone of bitterness or respect. Maybe both.
She keeps her arms crossed and meets Faith’s eyes. “It wasn’t all dead languages and ancient history, you know.” Memories of some especially fun extra circular activities make her smile. “I had a full educational experience.”
“That right?” Faith raises an eyebrow. “They teach you to wander out alone at night, askin’ for trouble?”
Faith starts walking, and since it’s away from the Slayer house Dawn falls in step. “I just couldn’t handle all that noise and the girls running around. I’m used to things being... quieter.”
“Yeah.”
They walk past a row of stores decked in so green and red she can’t even tell what’s supposed to be inside. She doubts that’s what the owners were going for.
Snow starts falling gently, like they’ve wandered onto the set of a Lifetime movie during the romantic getting-to-know-you scene.
Faith moves things up to Showtime level by lighting up a cigarette and offering one to Dawn. She hesitates for a moment before accepting.
“Don’t worry, B’s head is buried in all that Christmas shit. Won’t notice you smelling like smoke.”
“I’m not worried about Buffy,” Dawn proclaims, taking a deep inhale.
She coughs.
So much for her newfound sophistication.
Faith just chuckles and hits her on the back.
Which would have been a nicer gesture if Faith wasn’t used to hanging around girls with super strength - because Dawn? Definitely lacking in that department.
Now, super klutyness? That she has in spades.
She stumbles - cursing her cute but not practical boots - but magically doesn’t fall.
She finds herself in Faith’s arms instead.
It sounds like one of those romantic embraces on the cover of a cheesy supermarket romance novel. But it’s totally not.
Faith grabbed her from behind, just in time to stop Dawn ungracefully planting face-first into the snow.
“Thanks.” Dawn stands up with as much dignity as she can muster. She flips her hair over her shoulders. “But I wouldn’t have needed help if you hadn’t hit me that hard.”
“Wouldn’t have if you knew how to hold your smoke.” Faith takes a coughless inhale of hers to prove that she can.
Dawn inhales on hers and is thankfully cough-free this time. “Isn’t the phrase, ‘hold your liquor?’”
Faith shrugs.
They walk another block without saying anything, just smoking.
“Bet you can’t hold your liquor either.” Faith stops outside of some bar advertising ‘free wings’ on Tuesdays. “Wanna prove me wrong?”
Before Dawn can answer, her cell rings. It’s a worried Buffy.
They go back.
Dawn would have rather checked out the bar.
But she doesn’t say anything.
And Faith doesn’t seem to care that Dawn never answered her.
At least they have that whole companionable silence thing down.
Dawn’s relieved when Christmas is over and done with. Things seem to calm down a bit.
Most things anyway. Apparently the demonic population didn’t get the memo ’cause they’re out in full force.
Everyone’s out. Everyone except Dawn, Giles and Xander.
But Dawn isn’t complaining. It’s much easier to translate ancient runes without the constant sounds of yelling and smashing. Quiet is especially good because Giles has been creating a huge ‘to be translated’ pile, just for her.
Even Xander’s construction noises are soothing. Especially since he’s working on a bedroom for Dawn. With lots and lots of bookshelves.
It’s nice to have something to look forward to.
The almost silence reminds her that she has the kitchen all to herself. There’ll be room to find Cheetos, which she wants even though Giles claims she turns the rare book pages orange. She’s careful, he’s just paranoid.
She’s on her tip toes, pushing bags of chips aside looking for the Cheetos she knows must be there when she feels someone behind her.
“Need help?”
It’s Faith. Back from wherever she disappeared to the instant Christmas celebrations began.
“You do know I’m taller than you, right?”
Faith looks her up and down, a smile flits across her face. “Gotta know where to look, kid.”
The ‘kid’ hits Dawn hard, like last week’s slap on the back only ten times worse. Faith doesn’t notice, she’s bending over - black thong showing - and reaching into a low cabinet. She stands up, and holds Cheetos out to Dawn.
Later Dawn will remember that Faith knew what she was looking for. But right now? All she can hear is ‘kid’ echoing mockingly in her head.
She doesn’t take the Cheetos, takes a step toward Faith instead. “I’m not, you know...”
Faith’s eyes widen just a bit at the sudden invasion of her personal space, but she doesn’t move.
Dawn leans in closer so she’s pressed against Faith’s side, whispering into her ear. “...a kid.”
Since she’s not being pushed away, Dawn takes Faith’s chin in her hand and turns her head so they’re staring in each other’s eyes. Dawn closes the gap between them and brushes her lips against Faith’s.
Just a touch.
A purposeful tease.
And only a hint of proving herself.
She hears the sound of slayers returning from the fight just outside the door. Dawn plucks the Cheetos from Faith’s hand. “Thanks.”
She turns and leaves as the girls pour in.
No backward longing glances for Dawn.
But perhaps a sashay in her step.
Continues here