Dawn's Dumb Wish
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine, but I haven’t hurt any one (well, I made Spike bang his shins on a bucket, but that’s it).
RATING: PG-13 for swearing and nudity.
PAIRINGS: Willow/Tara, Giles/Anya
SPOILERS: Everything up to the end of season 6.
DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first - but I’m going to say yes.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please - [email protected]
PROPS: Regina Welch, who very kindly beta’d this story and helped make it way, way better by pointing out the missing jokes, drawing my attention sternly to roving POVs, and laying down the law on active/passive verbs.
Dumbsaint whose “Once More, All Naked, All Gay” is a) brilliant and b) got me thinking about nakedness and gayness.
Drbutterfrogg, whose ridiculously addictive “Wacky Adventures of the Buffybot” were quite clearly on my mind.
All the authors of the enormous amounts of Buffy fanfic - good and bad - that I have been consuming recently, in a sick compulsive fashion.
Chapter 2
The bell over the shop door jangled and Xander sauntered into the room, whistling. “Hey guys - did you hear that thunder? It’s going to be a dark and stormy night - I’m thinking buckets of rain, sheets of lightning, maybe scary blackouts.... What’s going on?” Xander turned his head, and suddenly his mouth opened as wide as a guppy going for a really big flake of fish food. “Merciful Zeus! It’s a naked woman! Wow. Wait, I know her..... it’s Tara. It’s Tara and she’s naked. And still with the naked.”
Everyone started talking all at once. Tara looked down at herself and blushed bright red, all the way down. Buffy pulled herself together first and stepped forward, slipping out of her new stylish leather coat (all the others in her closet were so yesterday) and offering it to the blushing witch. Unfortunately it was too tiny for Tara to pull on, so she just clutched it self consciously to her chest. Anya was a little more practical. She went to the closet and pulled out her tan belted mackintosh. Tara accepted it gratefully, and turned away from the four bemused onlookers. This gave them all a delightful back view to complement the front view they’d already enjoyed, but sadly it didn’t last, and when she turned round she was firmly belted into the mackintosh.
“Gah.” Xander said. “Gah, what, how, what?”
Buffy reached over to Tara, who was staring nervously about her, and patted her reassuringly on the arm. “And just as importantly, Xander, who, and why?” She turned a gimlet gaze on Dawn, who blushed again. Buffy was still giving her the look, so Dawn threw herself into Tara‘s arms and buried her face in her neck.
“Tara, I’m so glad you’re back, I’ve missed you sooo much. It’s great that you’re back, isn’t it!” she turned and hissed meaningfully at her companions. There was some coughing and shuffling.
“Oh sure,” said Xander. “It’s great, really great. We’ve totally missed you. And Willow is going to be ju...” He trailed off, having just realised how complicated it was going to be trying to explain what Willow had been up to since Tara... left.
“Um, hi,” Tara said hesitantly, “do you think someone could tell me what’s going on here? I mean, in the first place, who the hell are you? And.... in the second place, who the hell am I?” She paused, then said determinedly “And I would also like to know why I have no clothes on. Had no clothes on.” she amended, looking down at the mackintosh - it was a little snug across the chest, but it was at least decent.
“Um,” Anya said tentatively, “what do you remember, Tara?” There was a silence. Tara looked from face to face, noting that the little blonde had an big eyed expression that could have meant anything, the bad flat perm girl looked concerned, the boy still had his mouth open, while the teenage girl looked one part sulky to two parts smug. None of them looked really frightened, or hostile, though, which was reassuring. She relaxed just a tiny notch.
A violent crash sounded from inside the store cupboard, and another crash, then a scream of pain and a string of swearing. “Bloody, buggering, sodding, fucking hell!” “Bastard, fucking bucket! Bastard!” There was a sharp cracking sound, and Spike burst through the door of the cupboard with a mop in his hand, spraying splinters before him. Anya’s lips thinned ominously - doors cost money.
Spike paused, and blinked. “You lot, I should have known!” Pointing a shaky accusing finger at Buffy, he lurched forward, shins bleeding heavily. “You bitch, this is your doing isn’t it?”
Buffy snorted angrily. “What the hell are you doing here? You are so not welcome. Get out, now! She pointed dramatically at the door.
“Hey,” said Spike angrily, “I didn’t choose to come here. I was in my crypt, feet up, soccer on the telly, and then blam, I’m standing in the dark with this mop in my face,” he brandished it, “and my foot in a bucket.”
“Were you watching tv naked? said Anya, “because you’re naked now.”
“What?” Spike looked down at himself, and then up at his audience. “Oh well, this is just great isn’t it? Come and have a look at Spike, the big nancy vampire with a soul, and no pants on. Very bloody amusing isn’t it? Well, carry on looking. I’ve got nothing to be shy about.” He spread-eagled his arms and stepped forward aggressively.
“Ooooh!” Dawn couldn’t help it. She was blushing again (stupid, stupid adolescence) but this was way better than the naked guys on cable. Spike looked over at her, startled, and a two pink spots appeared high on his sculptured cheekbones. He brought his hands together over his crotch and dodged behind the counter in one uncannily swift vampiric leap.
“What the bloody hell is going on?”
Anya fished busily in the closet, finally digging out a pair of Giles’ old sweatpants. She stepped over to hand them to Spike, and to get herself a good eyeful. Hm, she thought, he really looked pretty good stripped right down. It was a pity he hadn’t bothered to take his duster off that time... she looked up and gave a gasp of dismay. Buffy had Dawn backed against a large glass display case and was jabbing her annoyingly taller-than-her sister in the chest. Anya threw the sweatpants at Spike, hitting him in the face, and rushed over - didn’t Buffy realise how fragile those cases were?
“Just what exactly did you do?” Buffy asked Dawn angrily, “and how?”
“I, I used Tara’s pendant to make a wish. It said I should! And it belonged to Tara, so it can’t have been bad magic! I just wanted her back.” Dawn pulled the pendant out from beneath her shirt and held it out against her palm.
“You have a pendant that’s been talking to you?” Buffy exclaimed. She rapped her knuckles sharply on Dawn’s skull. “Didn’t you think it might be DANGEROUS, knucklehead!”
“It has not been talking to me - God, Buffy you are so dense sometimes. It had writing on it - in Latin - so I ran it through Babelfish, and it said make a good wish, and no harm will come. So I did. And I was really careful, I put limits on the wish and everything.”
Buffy looked over at Tara, who had retreated nervously to the side of the room, and was standing with her back against the wall. She looked back at Dawn. “Give me that - and less of the profanity,” she added belatedly. She tugged the pendant roughly over Dawn’s head and walked over to Tara, holding it out in front of her.
“Um, Tara, I know you’re having a little trouble in the memory department at the moment. It’s perfectly natural, considering... all that’s happened. But I was just hoping you might recognise this?” Buffy placed the pendant in Tara’s hand. Anya, Xander, and Dawn had crossed the room with her, and they gathered around hopefully. Tara pressed her back more firmly against the wall, then turned the pendant over to quickly read the inscription.
“No, I don’t remember it.” She handed it back to Buffy, and everyone sighed disappointedly, and moved away. “But I can read Latin.” They all turned back, and she jumped a little. “It does not say make a good wish, and no harm will come. It says make not this wish good, that no harm may come - which is, of course, completely different.”
Buffy looked at Xander. How was it completely different? He looked back and shrugged. Dawn looked resentfully at Tara. “Well, it doesn’t seem that different to me. And Babelfish said...”
Anya looked back and forth at them all, exasperated. “Dithering deities, of course it’s different. It’s enormously different. I could flay a man, line his skin with the difference, and make a good winter coat out of it. It’s that different.”
“Just how is it different?” said Buffy carefully, “it sounds kinda similar.”
Anya snorted. “To a moron, maybe.”
Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Hey, keep the moron comments to yourself scary face demon girl. I will be finishing college sometime, you know. I have brains. I’ve just been kinda preoccupied, what with the slaying and the dying,” her voice rose, “and the saving the world!”
Xander coughed diffidently. “Well, actually, this time. If you want to be strictly accurate about it - and you know, we don’t have to. But still, I think you’ll find that I actually saved the world. I’m kinda proud of that in fact.”
Spike popped up from behind the counter, where he had been lounging and brooding soulfully. “Ice cream boy saved the world? Oh, come on, you’ve got to be joshing me.”
Dawn looked round. “No, he really, actually did. Willow went all dark magic and veiny and raised a satanic temple or something. Anyway, she was going to destroy the world, and Xander stopped her....”
“Can we please get back to the spell?” said Anya tetchily, but Spike was laughing,
“Monkey boy saved the world, from Willow!? Christ, that’s good.” He narrowed his eyes, and drew himself up dramatically, “Willow Rosenburg, Destroyer of Worlds! Ooh, that’s scary!”
“D-did someone say Willow?” It was a familiar voice. They all turned as one. A redhead with a dazed expression was peering around the door to the training room.
“Willow!” Buffy rushed to the door. “You’re here, in Sunnydale!”
“Well, yeah, so it seems.” Willow grasped the door more tightly. “I also appear to be naked - and so is Giles.”
Chapter 3 trailer: More nudity - and I mention Giles’ nipples - sorry. Willow kisses Tara - I think it’s kind of sweet, but Tara may feel otherwise. Anya is turning into a stalker.
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