game over; restart - parts i and ii
Game Over; Restart - Parts I and II
Disclaimer: 's not mine. *points in the general direction of Joss Whedon and such* 's theirs. Don't sue; I'm a poor college student.
Author's Notes: This fic may contain things you could consider spoil-rific. I've heard a lot of rumors about what's going to happen at the end of the season, as well as a great many hunches of my own (and I'm surprisingly good at predicting the TV shows I love, which you'd think would make me not watch them... *shrugs*). Also, I read the Fray comic published by Dark Horse. If you haven't read the comic, you won't have any idea where I came up with the major thing that happened after the final battle with the First. I'll include a brief description of that at the end of this part, so as not to give anything away.
Anyway, don't blame me if you read my fic and something in it happens on the show within the next, what, 11 eps (as this was written just after "Showtime").
Also, I get all information on names and spellings from Psyche's transcripts. Unfortunately those don't get posted extra quick, hence the revision. But in case you want to check them out, go here: http://studiesinwords.de/
Feedback: Damn skippy.
Part I
Dust choked the air, clogging Kennedy's nose and mouth; the outline of the hole stretched out around and above her. Sunnydale was now very much neither sunny, nor a dale. It was, in fact, rather more bowl-like. Perhaps they could call it Gloomybowl, and signs could read: "Formerly Known as Sunnydale, the World's Most Active Hellmouth!" Her chuckle didn't make it very far. Neither did the preceding cough.
The brunette blinked and rubbed at her eyes. She'd need to be careful while she searched for the others; one wrong step could send her tumbling into the bowels of the Earth. Which, she supposed, was something. At least one wrong step wouldn't send her tumbling into the bowels of Hell. Still, she didn't particularly like the idea of tumbling anywhere until the bruises that mottled her body had fully healed, and she thought that it might be a while until they did. Her strength was gone, and her heightened senses, so it was probably a good guess that her advanced healing was gone as well.
So much for being a Slayer.
Kennedy winced as she scrambled out of the niche her body had fallen into during the Sink. Or would that be Sinking? She'd have to ask Giles when she- Oh, that's right. She couldn't. Kennedy found it suddenly very hard to concentrate. The events of the past several hours - Or was it days? - came flooding back to her in disconnected pieces: Giles leading them in a spell that would ensure the First Evil couldn't break the seal between worlds, and then the spell finishing and Giles laughing because he really wasn't Giles at all. She had never met the real Giles, because he had died trying to save her Watcher; it was all a big, lousy joke, and only the First was laughing.
And then there was a fight, but she had come to expect those so it wasn't really very exciting (except that it was, of course, THE fight), and after a little while the First had given it all away. Kennedy thought that it was kind of cliched, but considering that she was alive enough to hurt she felt she couldn't really complain. And then Buffy had turned to Dawn, who had cried very hard, and said something that Kennedy couldn't hear over the din of battle, and then Dawn's blood fell all over the Gate and the First had screamed. Then things started to shake and collapse and everything went black. Kennedy could only suppose that this was because the Hellmouth had snapped shut, and this was, in her opinion, a safe assumption considering that she wasn't surrounded by a wriggling mass of demonic intent. Or something.
Her insides flipped around a bit and she wondered whether anyone else had survived. If Willow had survived.
But she wasn't going to get any answers unless she looked, so, shaking her head to center herself, Kennedy bit her lip and opted to take the path of least resistance for the beginning of her search. Rocks that looked suspiciously like crumbled bricks skittered around her as she slid down the incline, and for a few minutes she could see even less than before. She listened intently while the dust settled, and decided right then and there that she would never have chosen to live without Slayer powers on her own. She felt crippled, somehow, and very much alone.
As the air around her cleared she began to form some idea of where she was. Battered lockers jutted from a pile of rubble to her left, and she could make out the face of a door buried under debris on her right. Nothing moved; nothing breathed. And suddenly her heart was beating so loudly that she couldn't have heard anything if something had moved or breathed, and Kennedy found herself wanting very much to crawl into her mother's bed and be told that everything was all right, even though it all very clearly wasn't.
A choked sob echoed off the remains of buildings around her as she crumpled to the ground, holding herself and trying desperately not to loose control. She had to get out of here, she had to find the others; she couldn't possibly have been the only one lucky enough to survive. Could she...?
No, she wasn't! There, over to her right was a muffled groan that proved it. She ran as fast as she could, crawling over piles of bricks and scraping her arm along the edge of what had once been a teacher's metal desk, searching frantically for the person who belonged to the disembodied sound. It took her several long, strangely quiet minutes before she saw the bloody arm emerging from what had once been an archway in the school.
Swallowing, she grabbed it and checked for a pulse, only to have it clutch at her suddenly. The voice sounded again, this time allowing her to place a name to it as Xander's ragged and desperate voice queried, "Who's there? Who's that? Get me out of here!"
She laughed and cried and told him to hold on, that it was Kennedy, and to try to relax (because he sounded like he was in a lot of pain). It took her far too long to move the things that were trapping most of his body, and longer still to find a way to lever the metal support beam that was keeping him pinned under what was left. Light was fading when he finally crawled out into the open, and blood matted his hair and coated his right arm. He looked like she felt, Kennedy thought, and apparently a lot like she looked, too.
He smiled faintly at her as his initial shock to seeing her condition wore off, and after a few coughing fits and a lot of rubbing at his eyes, he managed to find his voice again, "Where are the others?"
"I don't know," was her forlorn reply. "You're the only one I've seen so far. Alive or..." She trailed off, not wanting to finish.
He seemed to agree with that sentiment, and surged to his feet, swaying dangerously after he did so. Steadying himself and taking several carefully deep breaths, he waved in the direction she had headed after hearing his voice, "Let's go that way. I have a feeling we all ended up in sort of a circular area around the seal, and since I heard you coming from this direction..." He jerked his head back towards the way she had come, trailing off as his arm dropped limply at his side.
***
They came upon Chloe and Anya first, and Kennedy had been forced to pull Xander away from the ex-demon's body so that they could continue their search. He had taken a ring from her hand, and Kennedy suspected that it was an engagement ring of some kind, although it had been worn on the wrong finger. She sympathized with Xander's loss only minimally, but found herself feeling guilty over her inability to feel anything at all over Chloe's death. But then, she hadn't gotten to know any of the other potentials very well at all except for Molly and Annabelle (and she had only tried to get to know them because they were both British, and there was a kind of comfort in numbers even if she was only naturalized).
Night came and went as they searched, and they found other people they didn't know, none of whom were alive. Dawn was breaking on the horizon as they scaled another irritatingly large pile of rubble, and as Kennedy crested the tiny mountain she found herself face to face with a bruised and bloody Spike. His cheeks belied his currently stoic expression, and Kennedy found herself wiping at the tear tracks that had cut a swath through the grime caked upon the vampire. Only, he didn't feel cold like he normally did.
"I," Spike started, but couldn't continue with the sentence for some time. In the silence that had quickly settled between them Kennedy found herself fascinated with the warmth exuding from his skin, so much so that she couldn't take her hands off his face. Xander simply looked at him, his normally sparkling blue eyes as dead as his heart, and it seemed to Kennedy that they had finally come to understand one another, somehow. And then, looking at the broken boy, Spike found his tongue, "I'm not a vampire anymore. Buffy-" he stumbled over her name. "Buffy closed the Gates between worlds with... With Dawn."
He stopped again, swallowing back more tears, "With the Key. But it didn't just lock the First away, it- It locked them all away. All the demons are gone. Every single one." His voice had gotten quiet towards the end of it, and Kennedy wondered how much it must have hurt to have his demon ripped from his body. After reflecting on that for a moment she pulled him closer and he wrapped his arms around her in the almost-clean morning light, sagging against her as he took what little comfort she offered.
She held him for a little while before pulling gently away, "Have you seen anyone else?"
He shook his head, "No, but I was trapped under some rocks for most of the night. I only got out a little bit ago." He seemed embarrassed by this, as though he felt like he should have been able to get out sooner. Kennedy sympathized completely.
"Well, then, let's keep going this way," she pointed in the direction she and Xander were headed, and the three continued on.
The sun rose higher in the sky, and as it did so sounds began to beat their way through the steadily thinning cloud that hung over the collapsed town. Helicopters and sirens blared off to what Kennedy could only guess was the south, and the three comrades took solace in knowing that they'd have help scaling the sides of the hole when they finally gave up on searching for the others. But they carried on, desperate to find some sign of those they still hadn't found: Molly, Rona, Vi and Willow. Buffy had died with her sister, their blood mixing together on the Nexus of Worlds.
"What's that?" Spike said, stopping suddenly and looking to their left.
Kennedy turned to scan the area he was gazing at, but couldn't make out anything other than more wreckage. Xander, too, turned to look, but his eyes fared no better, "What are you talking about, Spike?" He was weary, and heartbroken, but couldn't seem to muster any real feeling of vehemence towards the once-vampire.
The British man snorted and rolled his eyes, "And you're in the construction business, are you? That, over there, between that pointy pillar and the flat mound of dirt." His arm stretched out to point and both Kennedy and Xander scrambled to either side of it, using it as a guide for their eyes.
After a few moments Kennedy could make out figures moving towards them, and she yelped happily as her body propelled her towards whoever it was. "Hello?" she cried out. "Who's that?"
The figures stopped moving, but she kept running towards them and a few seconds later another British accent reached her ears, "Kennedy?"
"Molly!" the brunette flung herself at the light-haired girl, bowling her over in joy. "We were beginning to give up hope!"
"So were we," said another familiar voice, and then Kennedy realized who Molly's companion was, and proceeded to tackle her as well. Willow let out a loud "Oomph" as she was pounced upon, and returned the hug with fervor. Kennedy stayed on top of the redhead until Xander pulled her off so that he could have his turn, and then Spike as well. When everyone had finished hugging and making sure they were all in decent health, Willow looked at Xander. "Did you find Anya?"
He winced, and held out his hand with all the fingers curled in except for one. His pinkie finger glittered in the hazy light, and Willow covered her mouth to prevent her sob from reaching their ears. Kennedy smiled sadly, "She and Chloe were hit by the same boulder." Molly sighed at this, and hugged herself tightly. "What about Rona? Have you seen her? Or Vi?"
The other potential Slayer nodded, and looked back over her shoulder, "Rona was impaled on a drainage pipe. I- It didn't look like she took too long to die."
"Vi was," Willow started, trailing off as she remembered. She blinked a few moments later, coming back from wherever she had been. "She was gutted." Kennedy blanched. "We found her first."
"Well," the brunette forced herself to sound as normal as possible, her hand finding its way to Willow's arm. "Let's go. We're all accounted for now, and despite that wonderful visual you just gave me, I'd really like something to eat."
"Gee, thanks," another voice, only vaguely familiar to Kennedy, wound its way through the air. "Nice to know you care."
"Faith?" Willow called, turning to look in the direction of the weary sarcasm. And there, just coming over the crest of the flat mound, was the other Slayer. Or rather, former Slayer. Her left arm hung limply at her side, and her nose looked broken, but she was still smiling that cocky half-smile that had driven Buffy crazy for the few short hours they had spent in each other's company, before the shit had hit the fan.
She brushed a few bloody strands of hair out of her face as she loped the rest of the way to them, "So, what's this I hear about food?"
***
Men and women in white coats and green scrubs surged around the six companions. The dead and wounded were everywhere, and Kennedy thanked every deity she could recall for making sure that none of them had injuries that required more than a cast or a few stitches. Faith was sitting across from her, left arm in a sling and hastily wrapped in the plaster material used on broken limbs. Her nose had been set and taped down and her face was now clean of blood, and the former Slayer was currently stuffing herself with the tasteless meal her doctor had shoved into her waiting hand.
Xander's head wound was cleaned and bandaged, and all of Kennedy and Spike's cuts were tended to. Willow and Molly seemed to have nothing more than a few bad bruises, and so they had been given some light painkillers and been asked to stay out of the way. Lucky for Kennedy, Willow took the order "stay out of the way" as an excuse to sit very close to the younger brunette, and while Kennedy was certain that Willow wasn't intentionally doing so, it couldn't keep a small smile from gracing her lips.
It was a silly crush, or so she kept telling herself. Her gaydar had picked up on Willow right away, and that hunch was officially confirmed shortly after being introduced to the Sunnydale Scooby Gang (teenagers are prone to gossip, and Dawn was more than happy to tell her anything she wanted to know about anyone in exchange for information on anything British). The only reason she had been attracted to the red head initially was because it had been such a long time since her last relationship, which had ended just after her Watcher had informed her of her status as potential Slayer; relationships are hard, even when nothing but trust is involved, and Kennedy was certain that Jamie wouldn't take well to the news that vampires and demons were real, nor that Kennedy herself had been chosen to fight them (or, rather, possibly fight them).
So, Kennedy had indulged in nothing more than some harmless flirting, just to let Willow know that she wasn't the one and only dyke anymore. And somehow, over the weeks that followed their initial exchanges, it turned into something more. Willow was nice, smart, and, most importantly, different. Jamie had been rather dull, in her own way, and Kennedy found herself drawn to the very air that surrounded the American girl (or, as Kennedy had to keep reminding herself, woman).
The feeling Willow evoked in her was electric; everything seemed sharper, and better, whenever the witch was around. Her skin hummed, and her fingers itched to touch the paler girl. She wanted to know how soft Willow was, and whether or not her freckles felt any different from the rest of her. And her eyes couldn't help but stare at the other's chapped and bitten lips. Stupid as it sounded, it was like Willow embodied all the possibilities of life, while at the same time being completely unattainable. It was beginning to drive Kennedy absolutely stark raving mad.
She could understand grief, and also the feeling of being so attached to someone that letting another person in was simply not an option (she had never been able to accept her step-father after her own father's death). But she had never lost a lover like Willow had, and as a result was at a loss of what to do. If it had been a normal breakup, she might have given Willow one of the verbal beatings she was prone to handing out, telling the red-head to get over it already and try something new. But it hadn't been a normal breakup, and Kennedy couldn't quite bring herself to encroach upon such obviously painful ground.
Thus it was that she had contented herself to puppy-like pinning, and while she made no attempt to hide her interest, Willow seemed utterly oblivious. This fact was strengthened when the redhead waved a hand in front of Kennedy's face and said, "Hello? Where are you?"
"What?" Kennedy blinked. Faith, Molly and Spike were looking at her with amusement (which proved all the more that Willow was incredibly dense over this kind of thing, since all three of them had picked up on her daydreaming) while Willow asked again where she had gone off to. "Sorry, I guess I'm a little tired after all that's happened."
"Oh," Willow nodded. "I think we all are. But what I wanted to know was what you remember happening. The last thing I remember was the spell going wrong, and all my power being sucked out of me." She shivered involuntarily. "Then... Nothing. I woke up and Sunnydale was, well, gone."
Kennedy frowned as she processed this information. "You passed out after the spell?" Willow nodded. "Well, ah, it wasn't Giles that was with us for the past few months." She put her hand on Willow's knee as she talked, trying to brace the redhead as her words sank in. "It was the First. Giles died trying to save my Watcher, and then the First used him as a way to get us to help him get out of Hell."
"What the newbie's trying to say is that the spell didn't go wrong," Faith interjected between spoonfuls of not-food. "It just wasn't the spell you thought you were casting." Kennedy felt Willow stiffen as Faith continued, "So you helped him open the Gates to Hell, or Hells maybe, and passed out because all your power was sapped. And then B managed to get the bastard to spill his guts in the middle of the battle that followed and got it into her head that she could close the Gates once and for all."
"And how'd she do that?" Willow whispered, her voice full of dread because she already knew the answer, but needed to hear it first hand. She hadn't even questioned Kennedy earlier, when the brunette had said they were all accounted for.
"Dawn," Spike answered, the first thing he'd said since they had found each other. "She used the Key as it was meant to."
"But that didn't end it; I was still fighting when she..." Molly trailed off, clearly confused.
Willow swallowed and gripped the hand Kennedy had resting on her thigh with a white-knuckled intensity, making the brunette wince slightly. "It was Buffy." She swallowed a few times and blinked furiously, trying to hold back the tears a little longer. "She was the thing that was allowing him access to this world to begin with. So once the Gates began to close, she had to-" The red-head couldn't continue, but everyone knew what she meant. Buffy had to die, or the First would remain on Earth regardless of the Gates closing.
"I heard what she said, just before she... did it," Xander's voice was strangely clear, though it had a weight to it that Kennedy wasn't at all sure she liked. "She said, 'Game's over; We win.'"
Faith's bark of laughter was harsh, "B always had to have the last words, even if they were stupid."
"So there's not going to be any more demons, or vampires, or... anything, then?" Molly asked, looking childishly hopeful.
"None at all, pet," Spike said, smiling crookedly at her. "They all got sucked back into whatever worlds they came from originally, just before the Gates closed."
Kennedy smiled half-heartedly at that; none of them would ever have to worry about death on a day-to-day basis ever again. Willow's sobs had quieted, but the redhead was still curled up in her arms and shaking. Resting her chin on a tousled mop of orange hair, Kennedy thought that not having to deal with evil anymore was something they all desperately needed right now; it was a chance to restart their lives, and to learn to live normally. The brunette's grip on the witch tightened ever so much, as Kennedy decided to help those who had helped her. They had saved her life, and now she could repay them by helping them get their own back.
End Part I
Part II
Three days had passed since the six of them had crawled out of the collapsed Hellmouth. Molly had returned home to her family, perfectly happy to forget that anything remarkable had happened to her at all. Kennedy, meanwhile, had opted to stay with the other four; she couldn't let it go - any of it. It had been three years since she had been stolen away by the Watcher's council, and she was so far removed from her step-father's posh London flat that she just couldn't bring herself to care if she was "free" of her duties or not.
Besides, home is where the heart is, and Kennedy's heart was securely attached to the mismatched group of individuals that she was currently shacking up with. Even the new people had found their own places inside her, making the brunette wonder if she was a little too likely to get along with anyone remotely related to the fight against evil. But then, how could anyone not like Fred?
"And then it just exploded all over the place, like a watermelon at one of those Gallagher shows," the Texan punctuated with broad arm movements, her perfect, if slightly oversized, teeth glinting in the Los Angeles sun.
"You get way too much satisfaction out of that, girl," Faith laughed, shoving a large handful of fries into her mouth with her good arm. It amused Kennedy that neither she, nor Faith, nor Molly had lost their appetites, even when all of their other Slayer-related benefits had disappeared. After swallowing, the former Slayer caught Fred's abashed look and grinned dangerously, "But don't worry, I like that in the cute ones."
Willow's head shot around to peer closely at Faith. "I thought you didn't like girls."
Faith sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes, "You had to go an ruin it, didn't you, Red?" Fred burst into giggles, hiding her face behind her hand as her eyes scrunched up. "I had her tensing up and everything!"
"You, Missy, take far too much joy in the discomfort of others," Cordelia stated, pointing towards the doe-eyed brunette with her straw before taking a long, noisy slurp from her strawberry-kiwi smoothie.
"Who you calling 'Missy?'" Faith reared back, playfully angered. "I'm not one of your cheerleading sheep, Queen C."
"'Queen C?'" Kennedy blinked, looking inquisitively between the two bickering females. Cordelia smirked and looked out the diner's window, intent on ignoring this part of the conversation. Fred smiled as she took a few more fries, joining Kennedy to look expectantly at Faith.
Faith snorted, draining the rest of her coke before continuing, "Well, you see, back in the day, our pretty little Goddess-in-Training was none other than Sunnydale High's head cheerleader." Kennedy felt her lips curl up in amusement as Faith continued to gently rib the other woman. "She even had her own pack of Cordelia Chase wannabes. And, at least as far as most of the school was concerned, she ruled the town. So, Queen Cordelia or, because I'm just so good at coming up with wicked nicknames, Queen C."
"I'd hardly call 'Red' a 'wicked' nickname." Willow winked at Kennedy as she joined in on the taunting. "And 'B' didn't even stick..." Faith's face fell at that, and Willow's followed closely behind it as the redhead realized what she had said.
Kennedy cursed silently to herself, running a comforting hand up and down Willow's back. There had been an unspoken agreement for most of the day; it had read something like "thou shalt not bring up anything remotely related to anyone who died during the last apocalypse." And she, Kennedy Danielle Gordon, had completely barged right through that agreement and destroyed their almost-normal girls' day out. It had been nice, while it lasted.
***
Dinner was a fairly somber affair at the Hyperion, which was largely due to the absence of someone named Lorne, whom Kennedy had never met. Apparently, the demon was a close friend to the Angel Investigations team, and when the Gates between worlds had closed, he had been propelled back into a dimension that he, and Fred, hated passionately. Someplace called Pie-la, or something.
It had happened in the dining hall of the hotel, where the seven companions had been eating their first peaceful meal since the fire demon that had terrorized LA for the better part of the year had been vanquished. Now, none of the crew could eat in the hotel without remembering their friend's anguished cry as he was ripped from Earth. Kennedy could definitely see how that could put a damper on their mealtime together.
"Have you found anything, Wes?" Angel's voice cut through the silence that had pervaded the atrium since dinner had arrived.
Swallowing his mouthful of chicken fried rice, Wesly shook his head, "No, not yet. It seems that the dimensions are, at least for now, completely separated from one another. Magic still exists, but we have no way of using it to punch through the walls that separate Pylea and Earth without risking opening all of the Gates once more."
"What do you mean 'at least for now?'" Willow asked, a slight frown creasing her features.
"Well," he waved his chopsticks around as he shifted himself on the main desk. "I doubt the situation is permanent. Eventually, someone will find a way to open the dimensions to each other again." An alarmed look flowed over most of the people in the room, and Wesly hastened to add, "But I don't think that will happen anytime soon. Possibly not for several centuries."
Fred's head dropped lower than it had been before, and her shoulders slumped. "So there's no way to get him back." She sounded very small, and very sad, and Kennedy felt terrible for her, as she seemed to be the one hit hardest by the group's loss. Her boyfriend, Gunn, put his arm around her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head, but not bothering to give any meaningless words of comfort.
"Uh, no, it appears not," Wesly grunted, pulling in on himself again.
Kennedy looked around the room, noting how everyone seemed to be turning in on themselves to brood. She hated it, hated how nobody seemed to be enjoying the fact that they weren't going to have to die saving the world. It irritated her to no end that they all had to be sad that demons and other horrible monsters were gone, even if they had all lost people they cared about because of it.
"Look," she said, putting her carton of chow mein down beside her and standing up. "I know I'm not one of the Angel Investigations team, or anything, and I'm not even really a Scooby, either, but there's one thing that I think none of you are really paying any attention to." Everyone was looking at her, now, and she felt her heart speed up a bit. She had never been particularly good at talking to large groups. "The people we've lost, or that you've lost, would want us to be happy.
"I mean, I didn't know Lorne at all, okay? I admit it. But from everything you've told me about him he seemed to genuinely want all of you to be happy, and safe." Fred looked down, and a few of the others looked away from her. "And I think that since we don't have to worry about anything less mundane than a rampant warlock or telepathic psychopath from now on, he'd definitely be counting this as one of those safe, happy times. I mean, hello, we're so not going to die because a giant demon steps on us, or something. That, to me, screams 'happy!'"
No one said anything, and the silence seemed to thicken around them. Kennedy's shoulders slumped. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be sad that people are gone," she continued, her voice softer than before. "I'm just saying that maybe you should try to be happy, because otherwise what was the point of it all?"
***
Warm milk with honey was Kennedy's cure-all remedy. It helped you to sleep, it made your tummy warm and heavy, and calmed your nerves. And if she needed anything, she needed some calm nerves. Every time she tried to sleep, images of the fighting came back to her. Sometimes there were sounds, too, and then it was even worse, but most of the time it was just pictures. She knew it had to be worse for the others, because they had lost people that they had considered family, so she couldn't bring herself to complain openly, but it still rattled her something fierce.
She leaned heavily against the cold metal of the storage cabinet in the Hyperion's kitchen, her eyes closed and her head tilted back as she gripped the pleasantly heated mug of milk in both her hands. She almost dropped it when Willow's voice startled her out of her internal reverie.
"Trouble sleeping?"
"Um," Kennedy blinked rapidly, her heart slowing down considerably as she laid eyes on the redhead. "Yeah."
"Me too," Willow informed her, a consoling half-smile adorning her face. She was wearing a pair of Fred's pajamas, like Kennedy, only Willow's were blue and her own were pink. "What are you drinking?"
"Warm milk with honey," she replied, dragging her eyes guiltily away from the Wiccan's half-open top. "You want some? Does a body good."
"Yeah, that sounds nice."
Kennedy nodded and set about making another cup of her medicinal beverage, acutely aware of Willow's form next to her own as she did so. She couldn't help put steal furtive glances at the redhead while she stirred the milk. She was absolutely positive Willow had finally figured out that she had a crush on her. There couldn't be any mistaking the small smile that tugged on the redhead's lips as she watched the brunette work.
But when had that happened, exactly? The answer to the question eluded her throughout the process of heating and mixing Willow's drink, and she was stupifyingly silent during the whole thing. When she finished she handed the cup over to the redhead, smiling as Willow said, "Thanks."
Kennedy nodded dumbly, blushing as she noticed how pretty Willow looked with mussy bed-hair and turned back to her own drink, which was now almost cold. Grimacing she drained the last of it and stuck the mug in the sink, along with the pan she had used. "Okay," she said tightly, her chest smaller than she remembered it being. "I'm gonna hit the sack. Sleep well, if you do."
"Hey." Willow caught her arm gently as she tried to pass. "What's so flee-worthy?"
"Uh," the brunette stammered, her blush intensifying. "I, um. That is, I-"
"Have been wanting to get into my pants for a while, now?" Willow supplied kindly, with a hint of humor that did nothing to quell Kennedy's sudden need to be not there. The younger woman could do nothing but nod shakily, her eyes on her bare feet. "Faith let it slip."
Oh, so that's how she had figured it out. Kennedy was going to butcher the other girl, if she could ever bring herself to crawl out from under the rock she was planning on hiding under whenever Willow let go of her arm. The redhead squeezed gently. "How long have you been interested in me, Kennedy?"
The question caught her completely off guard. Willow sounded so fragile that the brunette couldn't help but look up, finding herself staring into vulnerable green eyes. The redhead looked frightened, possibly more so than Kennedy herself, and she was surprised when she said, "A while now." It had sounded completely normal, if a little quiet.
"And," Willow trailed off, seeming to be debating something in her head as her eyes flickered over to her drink. "And why didn't you do anything about it sooner?"
Kennedy's eyes widened as the realization of what Willow was saying hit her. She couldn't find her tongue, and had to content herself with shrugging as she stared stupidly into the other's green eyes. It occurred to her that she hadn't really done anything about it, now, either, but she didn't particularly want to correct Willow. She might take back the implications if Kennedy got picky with her.
"Oh," Willow smiled shakily, bringing her face closer to the brunette's. "I guess that's okay, then."
And then the Wiccan's lips were pressed against Kennedy's, and all the blood rushed from the brunette's head to other parts of her body. What little cognitive ability she had going for her before the kiss had started disappeared in a puff of smoke. Willow was kissing her. Willow was kissing her. Willow was kissing her.
Both of the girls jumped apart as the redhead's mug crashed to the floor, shattering into many tiny, wet pieces. Kennedy felt particularly sympathetic for the container as she touched her lips lightly.
"'Bout damn time," Gunn said from the doorway, groggy with sleep. "Was wonderin' when you two would stop dancin' around each other like a couple a kindergartner’s." Kennedy and Willow blushed similar shades of red, and he grinned. "Don't worry 'bout the mess, I'll get it. Just go on to bed, or whatever," he said, waving them out of the kitchen.
They rushed past him, each with a chagrinned look on their face. Once out of the kitchen, Kennedy turned to Willow, running a hand through her long, dark hair. "So... what now?"
Willow shrugged and looked down at her own feet, "I don't know. It's been a long time since I've done anything like this."
"Like what?" Kennedy asked, cocking her head curiously.
"Dated."
"Oh," Kennedy breathed, her face almost broken in half by her grin. "Me too."
End Part II
Author's End Notes: Dark Horse Comics prints the Buffy and Angel comics, and recently Joss Whedon wrote what is to be an 8 issue miniseries called "Fray." Therein, Melaka Fray, the first slayer in ages, learns that a girl in the 20th century closed the Gates to hell and sent all the demons back to their respective worlds, ending the Slayer line and making everything safe and happy for a really long time. But, the demons did come back, and Melaka was called. Check it out. It's a really frickin' good storyline.
|
|
|
|
