Pairing: B/F W/K
Disclaimer: I own nothing, well I own 'Gina' and a few others, but I didn't come up with the names.
Spoilers: Some. It's an AU after Season 7 thing.
Summary: Post Apocolyse
Print Version: Adobe Reader PDF
She sticks to the darkest of shadows.
Moving so stealthily, I can barely hear her foot steps. She's good.
But not as good as me.
She darts forward. I feel the air shift to let her pass; her momentum bearing enough to actually blow my hair back as she passes me.
At the last moment she kicks her leg out, catching me in the back of my knees. I stumble, but keep my feet spinning to intercept her second attack. She kicks me high on the chest and I stumble again, but this time I can't hold my feet. But she keeps moving.
"Aw, did the big bad slayer go down?" She says, in a baby voice before giggling.
"Yeah, brat. Keep laughing, so I know where you are." I move in the direction I hear the giggling from. I know she's not over there, but she doesn't know that I know.
"Fast as you can, catch me. I'm a baaaaaaaaaaad girl." She taunts as she moves above me. I gotta give it to her. The kid is an acrobat.
What did I expect, considering who her mothers are.
I jump straight up and grab the high rafters. I swing my legs and clamp them on one of the round pipe-like beams that crisscross around the ceiling of the basment.
She scampers off so quickly, a plume of dust chokes me.
"Oh, so close and yet I'm still faaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrr away!" She giggles and drops to the floor.
I swing out, release my legs, and land standing straight up.
Then she bowls me over.
I grab her and try to reverse our position, but she slips through my arms and pins them on my chest, and grips my legs tightly between her thighs.
She leans forward and bites my shoulder. "You lose."
I sigh "Damn, now B's NEVER gonna let me live it down."
She stands up and walks to the light, illuminating the pitch black basement with the single bare bulb.
"You're not supposed to swear around me." She reprimands, her arms crossed.
"Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck!" I smile at her, sweetly.
She puts her hands on her developing hips and gives me the 'look'.
You know 'the' look. The one Willow gives when she doesn't wanna argue?
Well, her daughter has it, too.
"Fine. I'm sorry you're such a prude." I roll my eyes and head up the steps.
"What's a prude?" She calls after me.
"Ask your mother." I open the door and let myself into the kitchen.
"Faith!" She screams up at me. "Are you ever gonna tell me?"
"When you're 30!" I call back.
I hear a snort behind me and turn to find none other then the brat's 'other' mother.
"Still teaching her interesting phrases?"
We both hear an angry scream from the basement. Then several dull thumps.
"She's kicking the shit out of the punching bag." Kennedy states, as she studiously feeds the baby.
"Uh-oh." A tiny voice singsongs from the kitchen door.
"Aun' Kenna' said a bad word." Abby says through her fingers, which are covering her mouth, distorting her already broken words.
Abby. My sweet baby, Abby. Mine and Buffy's second born.
"Yeah, we should wash her mouth out with soap." I clap my hands in glee.
Abby's eyes get wide and she squeals. She's so much like Buffy in so many ways.
"Spankin'!" She yells, when she removes her hands for a second.
"Hey Red!? I think you should come spank ya wife. She's swearing around my impressionable child!"
Kennedy rolls her eyes at me. "Like you didn't just swear in front of my daughter."
"You ain't got no proof." I jab two fingers at her eyes. "I'm innocent, see."
I twitch my nose and speak with a lisp. "Innocent I tell ya. In-O-Cent."
"Mama, Faith said the 'F' word to me." My stool pigeon of a student rats me out.
I grab Abby and hold her up as a shield. She squeals and squirms trying to get away from me, but giggling too hard to make progress.
Kennedy's out of her chair in an instant, and Abby's gone.
Kennedy gives me an amused look. I'm surprised she can move that fast.
Damn Slayer speed.
Yes, I said Slayer.
Remind me to run 'faster' next time I find a bomb in a sewer.
I was only gone for a minutes or so. But it was long enough for Kennedy to be called.
And what a pain in the ass she's been.
'I'm 'The' Chosen One, now. It's not my fault you don't know how to stay dead."
I almost killed her for that comment. But Wllow got to her first.
She really laid into her, too. I don't think Kennedy got any for TWO solid weeks.
Served her right.
It's B and Kennedy's night to slay.
Willow and I know they'll be out late. It's Tuesday.
They pay their respects to all the marked and unmarked graves of the fallen Slayer potentials, as well as our fallen Scoobies.
I come out of my musings. "Sorry, did you say something?"
"Not yet." Red smiles at me. "You were a million miles away. What's on your mind?"
I look around at the kids. They're all asleep, some on the couch; Abby between Willow and me. My oldest girl on the floor with Willow's oldest girl.
"The Potentials." I mutter. "We lost so many."
"But so many survived, Faith." She pats my shoulder. "We took a big loss, I'll admit. I miss Dawn, and Giles; so do Buffy and Xander. But we've got to move on. We're alive. And we need to respect their memories by living. Not wishing we had gone in their place."
I know she's right. But I saw so many fall before my eyes. I didn't stop to help them, I could've, but I didn't.
"It's not your fault. Faith look around you. You have a life, you have a family, you have three gorgeous little girls. If you had done something different, you wouldn't have what you have now. The Hellmouth is dormant. It can't be opened for another thousand years, enjoy your life."
Sometimes I hate talking to Red. She's right about too damned many things. And she always tells me stuff I know is true but just don't wanna hear.
"I know." I sigh deeply. "Thanks, Red."
I'm giddy and dancing around the assorted headstones.
"One, I slayed ya, two, I slayed ya, three, I slayed ya..." I pause for a second and tilt my head.
Kennedy's looking at me strangely.
The vamp attacks from behind, only to be turned into dust before he can make contact.
Kennedy snorts before laughing her head off. "You are the strangest person I've ever met."
"Spank you." I wink and skip further into the graveyard.
"You know, Buffy. I never thought I'd live this long." She says into our comfortable silence.
Kennedy's almost 30 years old. Willow and I have hit 34 with a vengeance, and damn, we look good for our age. That is if you can ignore the little gray around the temples our kids have caused us.
Faith. My dear sweet, horn-dog Faith, is a gorgeous 32.
With the butt of an 18 yr. old.
Not that I'm looking at 18 yr. old's butts. Really I don't.
I smile at her. "I didn't. I've died twice. I think I broke the rules of aging Slayers."
"You do still look 22." She chuckles.
"You don't." I taunt, sticking out my tongue.
"Well, you act your shoe size." She flips her long dark hair and tosses her stake straight up.
There's a sound of pain, then dust falls down around me, most of it getting in my hair.
"Thanks." I choke out. Eww, vamp dust is NOT a nice tasting thing.
She wiggles her brows at me. "All in the line of duty."
"Smart Ass." I spit more of the disgusting dust out of my mouth.
"It's not my fault you slay with your mouth open." She calls back to me. She's moved several yards ahead while I was spitting out vamp dust. Smart girl, if she was close to me, I'd have kicked her by now.
"Big slimy demon over the rise!" She cries out, pointing happily at it.
Since we sealed the Hellmouth, demon activity has gone down. There are still vamps, but not as many. Many stay away from our One-Starbucks-Three-Slayer town. So now we travel to kill them. Which usually leaves two of us at home playing Moms.
I race up to meet her. And boy, is that sucker ugly. It's about 6 feet tall, with 6 arms. Rings and armlets adorn its 6 hands and arms.
Only 4 of its arms are visible. Two are behind its backs.
"It's dragging something." Kennedy squints.
I zone in on its lowest arm, glancing between its legs everytime it takes a step.
"Two humans. One male, one female." I can feel her eyes on me.
"What? I have wicked good night vision." I shrug.
She pulls out her favorite sword and flips the shaft in her hand a few times. "Do you think if I cut off its arms, we'd have a better chance of freeing those humans?"
I make a grand gesture. "After you."
Everyone's asleep. Even Faith.
I turn off the TV and just sit in the dark, waiting for my best friend and my wife to return from slaying.
I'm sure they'll be fired up and...well...you know.
I should make them something to eat.
I carefully disengage myself from little Abby's pillow hug, switching her over into her mother's lap when she starts to fuss.
Faith's eyes flutters open, she looks from me to Abby.
"Slayer snacks." I whisper, and point into the darkened kitchen.
She nods once and closes her eyes.
I turn the kitchen light on 'low', so I don't wake the rampaging children. It's hell getting them back to sleep.
I look for something warm for them to eat. Otherwise they'll just back out of the kitchen with LowFat Yogurts. Buffy can try and get away with it. But Kennedy answers to me.
My wife has picked up some of Buffy's bad habits. But she's acquired a whole lot of Faith's, too.
My favorite is the leather. My baby looks so yummy in leather. The way the pants cup her ass just right...I digress.
Snacks! Yes, Slayer snacks. Not lusty Willow fantasies. Well, not yet, anyway. I pull out some bread and sandwich fixers. I make both the same, with too much mayo, and a whole lot of lettuce, along with assorted lunchmeats.
I put them in the oven to warm, not long enough to brown the lettuce, just long enough to get the fridge coolness out of it.
They walk in as I pull the sandwiches out.
"There's my baby." Kennedy purrs, as she swaggers over to me. She grabs my hips and pulls me to her. She starts pressing kisses into my neck, nibbling at my pulse point, knowing how hot it gets me.
"Food first. Dessert later." I remind her in a breathless voice.
"Oooooh, warm samiches." Buffy grins and grabs both plates.
"One of those is mine." Kennedy pulls her mouth away for a second. I slip through her arms and grab one of the plates from Buffy.
"Eat this first. Eat me later." I wink at her and toss Buffy a sultry look.
Both of them freeze.
"Mmmm Willow-licious." Kennedy purrs behind me.
Buffy's still looking at me slack jawed. She inhales her sandwich and retreats into the living room.
"Don't tease." Kennedy rubs my ass with the hand that's not holding the sandwich. "You know it makes me all...hot...when you tease other people." She nips my ear then takes a bite of her sandwich, chewing in my ear.
"Eww." I back away.
She laughs evilly and I leave her in the kitchen.
She's so easy to torment. That's one reason I love her.
There are others. Lots and lots of others.
"So, did you kill anything big and demony?" My wife peeks back into the kitchen. I love that word.
Wife, not kitchen.
"Yeah. It's got my hungries growing and my hornies hummin'." I try to rhyme. It's terrible, I know. But I kill things nightly, not write cheesy love poems about the redness of my wife's hair.
And it's pretty red.
"So, you're all hot and bothered tonight." She smirks my way, winking at me when I turn to her.
"I'm always hot around you, baby, I can't help it. Now that you have an ass, I wanna touch it." I lick my lips and give her a evil leer. I love teasing her about her ass. She didn't have much of one until Gina, our oldest, was born. Now's she's got this ripe little apple-butt.
"Ha ha ha." She rolls her eyes and stalks from the kitchen. "You'll be hugging that pillow tonight!"
I inhale the rest of my sandwich and head after her. I hate that pillow.
She found it somewhere in Cleveland when we went to shut down an 'Eye of Hell' a few years back.
Yes, an 'Eye' of Hell. I'm just waiting for the 'Ass' of Hell to open up. There's no way I going there, though. I'll be a happy spectator for that one. There's no knowing what that thing will fart up.
Where was I? Oh, yes. The Pillow.
She came back to the Hotel with it one night while we were planning the sealing of the 'Eye'. It's blue on one side and gray on the other. The blue side says "Yes. Tonight."
The gray side says "Go fly a kite." It's pretty damn obvious that the kite flying has nothing to do with Aunt Flo. She's gotten a mouthful a few times. Let's just say 'gray' is far from one of my favorites.
"So, Pillow Queen? Whatcha done now?"
Faith's standing near the stairs. Her little look-alike in her arms.
"I made a butt comment." I wiggle my brows at her.
Faith and I didn't always get along. And to this day, Buffy and Willow do their best to keep us apart. We're fine when it's all of us together.
But just me and Faith? Let's just say we got banned from the Bronze after all the damage we did.
"Damn." Faith turns and goes up the stairs.
Little Abby opens her eyes, smiles at me, and points down.
Directly at her mother's butt.
She flutters her eyelashes and puckers her lips, as if to kiss.
I get her message.
I guess I won't be the only one kissing ass, just to get some tonight.
Life. Is. Good
Of all my children, E.J. looks like Dawn the most.
Maybe it's because the monks made Dawn out of me. Or maybe it's just a very strong family resemblance.
Or it could be Faith. I mean that dark hair could come from anywhere.
But the attitude is all Faith. With lots of Dawn in her facial expressions.
Like when she's mad at me.
Like right now.
"Well, why not?" E.J. demands, hands on her hips.
"Because I'm your mother and I said so." I turn back to do the dishes, hoping she'll take the clue and drop the subject.
"Well, Gina has one." She roughly pulls out one of the kitchen chairs and slouches in it.
"Gina's not my daughter." I point out. I'm losing this battle and I know it. But it's just so fun.
"We're the same age, we've been trained with them, why can't I have one of my own?" E.J. ticks all her reasons off on her fingers, just like Faith when she's working for something.
"I just don't think I want my 9 year old daughter to be carting around a knife." I let the water out of the sink and turn to face her. She's got a stony look on her face.
"I don't want it to 'cart' around, Mom. I want it to show off." E.J. rolls her eyes.
"And to whom would you be showing this too? Not Joy-Joy and Abigail I hope?" I know she won't show it off to her sisters. Joy-Joy is months old, and Abby's a whopping 3. They couldn't care less.
"No. For the demonstrations at the convention. I'm the daughter of 'both' of the 'original' Slayers. I'm 'supposed' to have my own kick-butt weapons." E.J. slams her fist down on the table. "And Moma agrees with me. She said I had to take it up with you." She adds sweetly before I can tell her to ask Faith.
She always goes to Faith first, because she knows Faith will agree and send her to me. One of these days I'll get her for it. The bitch.
Faith, not E.J.; but she is growing into the title.
"Didn't we agree that you'd get your own weapons when you turned 13?" Ok, grasping at straws here.
"No." She shakes her head and her index finger. "You said I could join the Travel and Train group when I turned 13. Just like the rest of the Potentials Aunt Willow's been finding. We did not discuss weapons. Besides I'm talented. You show me, and Gina, off at 'every' convention, with 'cheesy' practice weapons. We should be decorated or something. Help those Potentials wanna be awesome like us." She waggles her brows at me for emphasis.
Damn. I lost. Again.
"Okay." I concede, this kid's got an answer for everything.
"Yes!" She pumps the air with her fist before leaping from the chair to hug me.
Good grip, I think I'll have to up her staff training, maybe throw in the axe for good measure. My kid's got muscles.
"Thank you, Mommy." She gives me the 'Rock On' sign and barrels up the stairs.
"Gina got me for it this morning." Willow says from the doorway to the hallway.
"Calculated and precise. Oh Will, our babies are growing up." I give a fake sniffle.
"And they're so 'violent'. " She adds with a smirk. "Other little girls want make-up. Our's want knives."
I snort. "Raised them right"
Willow gives the 'Rock On' sign as well. "Hell Yeah!"
"So Molly took the ring to the king, and she was married to his youngest son, and she never saw the giant again." I close the book and kiss Abby on her forehead.
She's sound asleep, thick dark lashes resting on her cheeks. My little look-alike.
I tuck the sheet around her and smooth down the comforter.
Then I leave the door open with the hall light on, just in case she wakes up.
Buffy's standing behind the vanity in our room, brushing E.J.'s hair as she does every night. It's ridiculous how easily that stuff tangles. It's those faulty Summers' genes.
"Mommy says I can have my own knife!" E.J. squeals, spotting me in the mirror.
"Good, now take your skinny ass to bed or I'll convince her to change her mind." I paste a big smile on my face that we all know is fake.
"We still have 32 strokes to go on the left side." She informs me, rolling her eyes.
I walk up behind B and press a kiss into her neck as I rub her flat belly. "Why did we have kids again?" I jokingly whisper, just loud enough for E.J. to hear.
"An enjoining spell gone wrong." B chuckles as E.J. makes gagging noises to our show of affection.
I tossle the loose left side of her head.
"Moma! Now she's gotta start all over." She squeals indignantly. Oh yeah, all Dawn there.
"Thanks, Faith." Buffy grumbles at me before pressing the brush back into E.J.'s hair. "50", another stroke down, "49", another stroke, "48".
I grab her hips and rub up against her. "Oh, baby, you know I love it when you stroke it." I growl into her ear.
"Eww!" E.J. grabs the brush and her hair tie. "I'll do it myself!" She runs out of our room and we hear her door click shut.
"At least she didn't slam it." Buffy says through her big grin.
"This time." I roll my eyes. There's been many a night when E.J. has woken up the entire house with her door slamming antics.
B steps out of my embrace and walks to the bed, pulling down the duvet.
"Baby?" I call, but she ignores me. So I add a little whine in it. "Baybee."
She looks at me. I point to my lips and pucker up.
She doesn't move.
I wiggle my brows. She rolls her eyes.
"What?" Okay I'm lost, what have I done now?
"You told her to ask me." She says flatly, before climbing into the bed. She's got night clothes on. This doesn't bode well.
"You know how to make the best decisions. I didn't wanna mess up our firstborn!"
"Uh-huh." She turns off the light on her side of the bed.
Dammit. Looks like another night of ass-kissing for me.
That pillow is nowhere in sight.
The baby's asleep, and Gina's getting there.
I lay back on the bed when I hear Willow's footsteps in the hall. She walks in the door like some kinda sex goddess.
Or maybe it's just me?
Who cares. She's still hot.
I watch as she pulls the door closed behind her.
She stretches her arms over her head and yawns as she approaches the bed.
She cannot be tired! It hasn't been a rough day at all! No slaying tonight, just us doing the joint family thing with Buffy and Faith.
"You okay, Will?" I open my arms and she crawls into them, nuzzling her head into the crook of my neck.
"Mm-hmm." She wraps her arms around me, lying half on top of me, and she settles in.
"Just tired?" I can hear the desperation in my own voice.
She looks up at me, and her eyes darken.
"Not that tired." She purrs and pulls up to meet my lips.
I groan a bit when she lets me out of the deep kiss. "Remind me never to make any ass-cracks again."
She sits up so she's straddling my lap, and she glaring.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She reaches behind me and yanks something from under her pillow and shoves it in my face.
'Go Fly A Kite' it says.
Then she starts hitting me with it.
I squeal and try to get away from her. She's growling and crawling across the bed, pummeling me while she grunts out her case against my lack of sensitivity.
"Hello! People in this house 'do' sleep."
We both turn. E.J.'s standing at the door, hands on her hips, hair pulled back in her normal nightly braids.
Looking every inch like Dawn. Her eyes a stormy blue.
Oh she's in a mood.
"Sorry." We both mumble.
She huffs and rolls her eyes before muttering "Just keep it down." She shuts the door behind her.
Willow giggles. "She's so 'grown' isn't she?"
There's a muffled "Ugh" from the hallway, then the sound of a door slamming.
Katie's plaintive wail and Abby's call of "Moma" just don't bode well.
Of course, only Joy-Joy could sleep through a hurricane.
"Double damn. I just lost all chances of getting laid tonight." I groan flopping on my back.
"You never 'had' one." Willow says through clenched teeth. "And she's your daughter till dawn." Well, I planned on being up all night anyway.