An Episode of Blonde
An Episode of Blonde
by thistlerose
Rating: R-ish, for language
Ships: Only mentions of Buffy/Riley and Buffy/Angel
Summary: Buffy and Faith have switched bodies. So, Faith gets to have a kid sister for a little while.
A/N: This is a take off on "Who Are You?" from S4. I figured that Faith has enough screws loose to at least recognize that Dawn isn't what she seems. The title is from a song by Elvis Costello (as was "This Year's Girl"). Approx. 1,400 words. Many, many thanks to r_becca for beta reading!
Little sis is going to be a problem, Faith thinks, slouching lower in the tub and frowning at her (Buffy's) knees. She's banging on the bathroom door again, whining to be let in.
"Come on. How long does it take?"
"There's another goddamn bathroom," Faith snaps. There shouldbe, she thinks, though it's kind of amusing to picture the Summers women, all lined up in their frilly, goody-goody nightgowns, waiting to run brushes through their perfect hair.
"My stuff's in there," Dawn complains. There's a thump, like she gave the door a weak kick.
"My stuff's in there," Faith mimics, but under her breath. After a minute, Dawn kicks the door again, then flounces noisily away.
Well, maybe not that big a problem.
Faith closes her eyes, tries to relax. In the hot, sudsy water, Buffy's body feels less strange on her. Not comfortable exactly, but less…confining than it was at first.
It was weird watching the cops take her body away, knowing Buffy was in there. Weird thinking of Buffy in her body, exploring it the way Faith is exploring hers.
"Bitch got my tits," says Faith, cupping Buffy's. "And I got stuck with these mosquito bites. That ain't fair. What the hell am I supposed to do with these?"
She climbs out of the tub when the water starts to cool, wraps a fluffy white towel around Buffy's skinny body, goes over to the sink and wipes the condensation from the mirror so she can study Buffy's face.
"Always wondered how I'd look as a blonde." She cocks her eyebrows, bares her teeth, sticks out her tongue. "Hello," she tells her reflection. "I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer! I'm all perky and bubbly and blonde. And I have a really ugly fucking nose."
Faith tugs at her damp hair. Buffy doesn't really talk like that.
She throws back her shoulders, lifts her chin, tries to look all righteous and tight assed. "That's wrong," she chides. "You can't do that. It's wrong." She waggles her finger and almost loses her towel. "You can't do that because it's naughty." Better the other way. "It's wrong. Wrong."
She pretends it's really Buffy in the mirror, staring at her, Faith. "You're disgusting. I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna kick your ass."
This is getting too weird. She gives Buffy's nose one last scowl, then opens the bathroom door. Dawn is slumped against the wall just outside, and Faith nearly trips over her.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" she snarls, clutching her towel.
"I am so telling Mom you said that."
"Yeah, well." Faith bites her lip. "I'm so telling her you were…lurking."
"I was waiting for the bathroom."
"I thought you left."
Dawn's eyes narrow. "I thought you left. Home," she continues when Faith looks at her blankly. "You're never around."
"Gee, wonder why that is."
Dawn pushes herself up, stalks into the bathroom, and slams the door. "It's all full of steam," she whines.
Faith blinks at the door. Water drips from the ends of her hair onto her shoulders and runs down her back, but she can't seem to move. That was so weird; Dawn was just there in the hall bitching at her, and yet, at the same time…Faith can't shake the idea that somehow Dawn wasn't there. Isn't really there, on the other side of the bathroom door, peeing or smearing on strawberry lipgloss or whatever. She had that feeling before, after the cops took Buffy away, after Dawn came home from her friend's house.
Faith pushes the heel of her palm against her forehead. She's slightly dizzy. And cold. "Weird," she mutters. Maybe it's an aftereffect of the mayor's spell. Maybe Buffy hit her harder than she thought. Maybe she's just tired.
"You left your clothes in here, you know," Dawn says.
"Whatever." Still rubbing her forehead, Faith turns and walks down the corridor to Buffy's room. She grins when she sees all the trunks and cardboard boxes. "Nice, Joyce. Bet B just loved it when you did this."
A bit of digging yields red leather pants and a tight black top. "B, you tease," Faith laughs as she zips up the pants.
She wants to see how she looks, but Buffy's mirror is half-hidden behind a pile of boxes, and she doesn't feel like pulling it out. Dawn is still in the bathroom and Joyce is doing something downstairs, so Faith heads to her room.
"I wear this body better than B did," she says, striking poses in front of Joyce's vanity mirror. She sticks out her chest, cocks her hip, points at her reflection. "Bang. Naughty, naughty." She'll get used to this, she decides. Maybe the problem isn't her. Maybe the problem was goddamn Buffy, too busy fighting the good fight to explore all her body's capabilities. No wonder it feels kind of wrong on someone who's actually done some living.
Faith has a brief flash of Buffy coming to confront her in the apartment the mayor got for her. Coming for her blood.
Ready to cut loose?
Try me.
"All right, B," murmurs Faith.
Her gaze travels to Joyce's dresser drawers. She opens one, finds Joyce's wallet and credit cards. "Score."
"What are you doing?"
Faith shuts the drawer quickly. "Nothing," she says, not looking at Dawn. "Just, uh, trying to find a lipstick."
"You're so weird. And you look stupid in that. In fact…you look like a hooker."
"I'm not what I look like." Faith smirks.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Dawn steps into the mirror's frame and Faith quickly averts her gaze. Out of the corner of her eye she sees, where Dawn should be, a green glow. "Maybe I ain't the only one."
"What?"
Faith turns around, but it's just Dawn standing there, looking bratty with her arms crossed over her chest. No green glow.
Strange.
But really not her problem. If there's some weird shit going on with Dawn, Willow and the rest can figure it out, handle it themselves.
"I gotta get outta here," says Faith.
"Where are you going? To see Riley? Dressed like that?"
Faith was thinking about getting a drink at the Bronze, but Dawn's suggestion is interesting. She's been wondering about Angel's replacement, wondering how he compares with the soldiers she's had. Most of them were tough-talking pussies who didn't like it when she got on top. Would Buffy keep Riley if he couldn't keep up? Or maybe she just decided that bad sex with Riley is better than no sex with Angel.
"Fine, don't talk to me," says Dawn, throwing her hands up. "I don't even care."
"Is there a reason you're still standing here, then?"
"No." For a second, Dawn looks like she's about to leave, but then her shoulders sag and she sighs. "All right, yes."
"What?"
While Dawn fumbles for words, fragments of a dream flash in Faith's memory. She and Buffy are in Dawn's bedroom, but there's nothing on the floor or the walls, or in the closet. It's not Dawn's yet. She and Buffy are making the bed, getting it ready for her. Light pours in through the window. It's not green. It's just regular sunlight, but it's very bright.
"The thing is," Dawn says, shaking Faith out of her memory, "I'm just glad you showed up tonight. The whole time I was at Jessica's, I kept thinking, 'Oh my god, what if Faith tries to jump me or something while I'm walking home?' I don't know what I'd've done if she had. I don't know what she'd've done if you hadn't come home."
"I don't know," Faith says. "Joyce was always pretty nice to Faith. I mean, she called her psychotic, but hey. We all say things we don't mean."
"But Faith is psychotic."
"Yeah." Faith smiles. "As for you, I dunno. She might've shaved off all that pretty brown hair." She reaches for one of Dawn's locks and gives it a tweak that's just a little too hard for affection.
Dawn wriggles away and looks at her warily.
"She might've taken you out for ice cream," continues Faith. "She might've broken your little fingers one by one until you admitted Faith's much, much cooler than Buffy."
At this, Dawn actually laughs, all suspicion gone. "Oh, please. Like I'd've let her do that. I'd've said anything she wanted. Can't exactly get her when her guard's down if my fingers are all broken, right?"
Faith's smile widens. "That's my clever little sister. I'm real proud. She'd probably've broken them anyway, though. Faith's one crazy bitch, ain't she?"
9/16/2007
by thistlerose
Rating: R-ish, for language
Ships: Only mentions of Buffy/Riley and Buffy/Angel
Summary: Buffy and Faith have switched bodies. So, Faith gets to have a kid sister for a little while.
A/N: This is a take off on "Who Are You?" from S4. I figured that Faith has enough screws loose to at least recognize that Dawn isn't what she seems. The title is from a song by Elvis Costello (as was "This Year's Girl"). Approx. 1,400 words. Many, many thanks to r_becca for beta reading!
Little sis is going to be a problem, Faith thinks, slouching lower in the tub and frowning at her (Buffy's) knees. She's banging on the bathroom door again, whining to be let in.
"Come on. How long does it take?"
"There's another goddamn bathroom," Faith snaps. There shouldbe, she thinks, though it's kind of amusing to picture the Summers women, all lined up in their frilly, goody-goody nightgowns, waiting to run brushes through their perfect hair.
"My stuff's in there," Dawn complains. There's a thump, like she gave the door a weak kick.
"My stuff's in there," Faith mimics, but under her breath. After a minute, Dawn kicks the door again, then flounces noisily away.
Well, maybe not that big a problem.
Faith closes her eyes, tries to relax. In the hot, sudsy water, Buffy's body feels less strange on her. Not comfortable exactly, but less…confining than it was at first.
It was weird watching the cops take her body away, knowing Buffy was in there. Weird thinking of Buffy in her body, exploring it the way Faith is exploring hers.
"Bitch got my tits," says Faith, cupping Buffy's. "And I got stuck with these mosquito bites. That ain't fair. What the hell am I supposed to do with these?"
She climbs out of the tub when the water starts to cool, wraps a fluffy white towel around Buffy's skinny body, goes over to the sink and wipes the condensation from the mirror so she can study Buffy's face.
"Always wondered how I'd look as a blonde." She cocks her eyebrows, bares her teeth, sticks out her tongue. "Hello," she tells her reflection. "I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer! I'm all perky and bubbly and blonde. And I have a really ugly fucking nose."
Faith tugs at her damp hair. Buffy doesn't really talk like that.
She throws back her shoulders, lifts her chin, tries to look all righteous and tight assed. "That's wrong," she chides. "You can't do that. It's wrong." She waggles her finger and almost loses her towel. "You can't do that because it's naughty." Better the other way. "It's wrong. Wrong."
She pretends it's really Buffy in the mirror, staring at her, Faith. "You're disgusting. I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna kick your ass."
This is getting too weird. She gives Buffy's nose one last scowl, then opens the bathroom door. Dawn is slumped against the wall just outside, and Faith nearly trips over her.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" she snarls, clutching her towel.
"I am so telling Mom you said that."
"Yeah, well." Faith bites her lip. "I'm so telling her you were…lurking."
"I was waiting for the bathroom."
"I thought you left."
Dawn's eyes narrow. "I thought you left. Home," she continues when Faith looks at her blankly. "You're never around."
"Gee, wonder why that is."
Dawn pushes herself up, stalks into the bathroom, and slams the door. "It's all full of steam," she whines.
Faith blinks at the door. Water drips from the ends of her hair onto her shoulders and runs down her back, but she can't seem to move. That was so weird; Dawn was just there in the hall bitching at her, and yet, at the same time…Faith can't shake the idea that somehow Dawn wasn't there. Isn't really there, on the other side of the bathroom door, peeing or smearing on strawberry lipgloss or whatever. She had that feeling before, after the cops took Buffy away, after Dawn came home from her friend's house.
Faith pushes the heel of her palm against her forehead. She's slightly dizzy. And cold. "Weird," she mutters. Maybe it's an aftereffect of the mayor's spell. Maybe Buffy hit her harder than she thought. Maybe she's just tired.
"You left your clothes in here, you know," Dawn says.
"Whatever." Still rubbing her forehead, Faith turns and walks down the corridor to Buffy's room. She grins when she sees all the trunks and cardboard boxes. "Nice, Joyce. Bet B just loved it when you did this."
A bit of digging yields red leather pants and a tight black top. "B, you tease," Faith laughs as she zips up the pants.
She wants to see how she looks, but Buffy's mirror is half-hidden behind a pile of boxes, and she doesn't feel like pulling it out. Dawn is still in the bathroom and Joyce is doing something downstairs, so Faith heads to her room.
"I wear this body better than B did," she says, striking poses in front of Joyce's vanity mirror. She sticks out her chest, cocks her hip, points at her reflection. "Bang. Naughty, naughty." She'll get used to this, she decides. Maybe the problem isn't her. Maybe the problem was goddamn Buffy, too busy fighting the good fight to explore all her body's capabilities. No wonder it feels kind of wrong on someone who's actually done some living.
Faith has a brief flash of Buffy coming to confront her in the apartment the mayor got for her. Coming for her blood.
Ready to cut loose?
Try me.
"All right, B," murmurs Faith.
Her gaze travels to Joyce's dresser drawers. She opens one, finds Joyce's wallet and credit cards. "Score."
"What are you doing?"
Faith shuts the drawer quickly. "Nothing," she says, not looking at Dawn. "Just, uh, trying to find a lipstick."
"You're so weird. And you look stupid in that. In fact…you look like a hooker."
"I'm not what I look like." Faith smirks.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Dawn steps into the mirror's frame and Faith quickly averts her gaze. Out of the corner of her eye she sees, where Dawn should be, a green glow. "Maybe I ain't the only one."
"What?"
Faith turns around, but it's just Dawn standing there, looking bratty with her arms crossed over her chest. No green glow.
Strange.
But really not her problem. If there's some weird shit going on with Dawn, Willow and the rest can figure it out, handle it themselves.
"I gotta get outta here," says Faith.
"Where are you going? To see Riley? Dressed like that?"
Faith was thinking about getting a drink at the Bronze, but Dawn's suggestion is interesting. She's been wondering about Angel's replacement, wondering how he compares with the soldiers she's had. Most of them were tough-talking pussies who didn't like it when she got on top. Would Buffy keep Riley if he couldn't keep up? Or maybe she just decided that bad sex with Riley is better than no sex with Angel.
"Fine, don't talk to me," says Dawn, throwing her hands up. "I don't even care."
"Is there a reason you're still standing here, then?"
"No." For a second, Dawn looks like she's about to leave, but then her shoulders sag and she sighs. "All right, yes."
"What?"
While Dawn fumbles for words, fragments of a dream flash in Faith's memory. She and Buffy are in Dawn's bedroom, but there's nothing on the floor or the walls, or in the closet. It's not Dawn's yet. She and Buffy are making the bed, getting it ready for her. Light pours in through the window. It's not green. It's just regular sunlight, but it's very bright.
"The thing is," Dawn says, shaking Faith out of her memory, "I'm just glad you showed up tonight. The whole time I was at Jessica's, I kept thinking, 'Oh my god, what if Faith tries to jump me or something while I'm walking home?' I don't know what I'd've done if she had. I don't know what she'd've done if you hadn't come home."
"I don't know," Faith says. "Joyce was always pretty nice to Faith. I mean, she called her psychotic, but hey. We all say things we don't mean."
"But Faith is psychotic."
"Yeah." Faith smiles. "As for you, I dunno. She might've shaved off all that pretty brown hair." She reaches for one of Dawn's locks and gives it a tweak that's just a little too hard for affection.
Dawn wriggles away and looks at her warily.
"She might've taken you out for ice cream," continues Faith. "She might've broken your little fingers one by one until you admitted Faith's much, much cooler than Buffy."
At this, Dawn actually laughs, all suspicion gone. "Oh, please. Like I'd've let her do that. I'd've said anything she wanted. Can't exactly get her when her guard's down if my fingers are all broken, right?"
Faith's smile widens. "That's my clever little sister. I'm real proud. She'd probably've broken them anyway, though. Faith's one crazy bitch, ain't she?"
9/16/2007