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jedibuttercupT; B:tVS/Fast and the Furious 'verse; Buffy & Mia; 2000 words. Post-S5 AU. For ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
twistedshorts.
The summer after Buffy should have died and didn't, she met another young woman struggling with sudden loss.
Title: an endless road to rediscover
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: AU post "The Gift" for Buffy; The Fast and the Furious (2001)
Notes: A little angstier than my usual, with a little fix-it mixed in. I looked at the comparative timelines of "The Gift" and the first F&F movie, and the idea just struck me.
The summer after Buffy should have died and didn't, she met another young woman struggling with sudden loss. 2000 words.
The summer after Buffy should have died and didn't, day saved at the last second by Spike of all people and bad guy finished off by her Watcher, the Slayer finally sucked up her pride and made a call that she should have a long time ago.
It had just been too fresh, after her Mom-- well, after Mom. There'd been too much going on. Her sister's life had been in her hands, the world had been about to end, and every time she turned around it seemed like there'd been another paper to sign. She really hadn't wanted to chase after the suspicion that the reason her father had 'stopped' sending child support for Dawn that year was because he never actually had and didn't know he was supposed to. What if the monks' memory spell hadn't reached that far? She just didn't think she could have handled, that Dawn could have handled, one more blow.
In the aftermath of Glory, though....
Buffy had survived things before that she knew she probably shouldn't have. It wasn't the facing death part that made everything seem so much clearer and more straightforward this time-- though that didn't exactly hurt. It was the fact that she'd been ready for it for once: totally focused on doing everything possible, even if that meant sacrificing herself, to save her sister. Surviving past that moment... well, it made it a lot easier to focus on what was really important.
She was the Slayer; there was no way Buffy would ever be able to hold down a regular job, even if she hadn't dropped out of college. But without a decent income, the rest of her mother's estate would only go so far toward paying off the house and keeping up with the maintenance. And whatever she chose to do, there was no way she could support Dawn all on her own. If there was any chance their dad could help, then reaching out was the responsible thing to do.
She reminded herself of that more than once over the next few weeks as her call seemed to 'jog' Hank Summers' memory and send him into a very belated dadding panic. Not that Dawn much appreciated the results-- though she'd agreed to at least temporarily give it a try. In her more cynical moments, Buffy reflected that the junior Summers was, after all, still young, cute, and entirely without gym-burning or documented psychological problems on her record; not that that would probably last for long if their dad tried to keep her in Los Angeles and bar her from seeing her Sunnydale friends, but hey, at least he was funding Dawnie's wardrobe.
In the meanwhile, Buffy was getting by. Re-enrolling in college probably wasn't a practical option, but it was summertime, so she had time to figure it out while she made sure all the baddies that had flocked to town under Glory's banner were cleared out. And occasionally talked Spike into taking her a few hours down the interstate to be there for her sister. He'd stopped the heavy flirting after everything that had happened, though he still smoked on her lawn, stalked after her on half of her patrols, and willingly spent a lot of his free time keeping watch over Dawn. And very, very occasionally explored the city with Buffy, on the visits when Dawn wasn't available for whatever reason.
She didn't have a label for that. And wasn't sure she wanted one. Because then, she might have to do something about it. Every day, her friends' lives seemed to grow further apart from hers, growing up and leaving her behind; and all the trauma they'd just been through and were trying not to talk about only seemed to make it happen quicker. It was almost a relief to have times set apart to not have to be the fifth wheel, or practice alone wondering when Giles would be back from his summer vacay in England, or walk through her empty, echoing house. Regardless of where that comfort came from.
It was on one of those days, in the evening when the long shadows and smoggy sunset made it safe enough for a vampire to take her exploring for a new place to eat, that she walked into a family market and diner in Echo Park and saw the same unfocused pain and stressed lines that looked out of her mirror every morning on the face of another girl about her age, standing behind the counter.
The unexpected jolt of recognition, like a kick to the sternum, only got stronger when Spike walked in behind her and the girl's eyes tracked up to his bleached hair, currently windblown out of its usual slicked-back look into loose wavy curls, and she visibly recoiled before covering it with an attempt at a welcoming smile. "Hi. Welcome to Toretto's."
Buffy stopped short, breath caught at the sudden, visceral force of her own emotional reaction. It was like she'd been drifting ever since the day she'd found her mom on the couch; like everything that had happened was just one more blow to brace against, until the last obstacle fell and left her with only the looming absences always at the corner of her vision. Which was partly her own fault-- she could have tried to keep Dawn, tried harder to keep her friends a part of her daily life-- but she couldn't change what had happened, or how alienated she felt from all of them now. But this woman....
She took a shaky breath, then turned and put a hand on Spike's arm. "I changed my mind. You said you had an errand in town later, right? Could you maybe go do that, and come back for me after?"
Spike glanced between her and the stranger, clearly suspicious; he took a not-so-surreptitious sniff, probably checking if the other woman was a demon, then frowned at her. "You sure about that, luv?"
"Go on," she said, giving him a wry smile. "I'll be fine."
Something more than she'd intended must have got through, because his eyebrows rose as he glanced between her and her new acquaintance again, but he made no further argument. He pulled his phone from his pocket instead, waving it in her direction. "Call me if you need anything. I won't be far."
"Thanks, Spike," she said, patting the arm and letting go. "I appreciate it."
He looked down at the appendage with a bittersweet curve of mouth, then met her gaze again, inclined his head and walked back out.
The proprietress watched the interaction with a slight furrow between dark brows, then turned a wary look in Buffy's direction. "Can I help you?"
The animation lent by curiosity brought a vibrancy that distracted a little from the slightly bloodshot eyes and weary posture, but Buffy was still entirely sure of what she'd seen. There was no way to really open the subject gently, at least not that she could think of right now, so she walked up to the counter and just ripped the Band-Aid off. "I'm sorry. Who did you lose?"
"What?" The woman took an involuntary step back. "Why would you ask that?"
Buffy gave her a sympathetic smile. "I know that look. My mother died this spring. My father-- they were divorced-- took my sister away. I had to drop out of college; no way around it really, but it was like dropping into another world where my friends don't really fit. Just me-- and my ill-advised friend. He doesn't get it, but at least he tries. Do you have someone like that, at least?"
The woman stared at her for a long moment, moisture welling up in her eyes; her mouth opened, but she didn't seem to know what to say. "I... I don't...." she managed, then turned away abruptly, bringing up a hand to press against her mouth.
Too strong to crumble. But not too strong to feel it. Buffy felt the stab of raw pain as roughly as if it had been her own, and hopped over the counter on impulse. It felt way intrusive to just offer a hug to a stranger; but she knew how much it had meant to have Angel to lean on after the funeral, if only for a few minutes, and it looked like this woman didn't have anyone.
She had a few inches on Buffy, but clung back like Buffy was the taller one-- or maybe the elder; was she missing a sibling too?-- burying her face in the Slayer's shoulder as the tears finally let go. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't...."
"Shh, no, it's okay," Buffy whispered back, stroking a hand over a waterfall of long dark hair. Straighter and sleeker than Cordelia's, it fell around both of them like a curtain.
"Everyone," the girl said, thickly. "Just about. And not really. I just-- I can barely keep the market open, I don't know what I'm going to do about the garage, school's out of the question, I...."
"You need help," Buffy commiserated, patting her gently on the back.
Then a sudden bright idea occurred to her, and she took a deep breath. Spike would squawk, but he'd do it; she knew without asking. Dawn might resent her less if she was around more. Her friends could always call her to meet up, it wasn't like they didn't already-- and hey, maybe Willow and Tara would be willing to rent from her to get out of student housing? It might take some adjustment to run in the same city as Angel on a more regular basis without clashing with his team, but... she'd built a life there for a summer before with only one major supernatural incident, she was sure she could manage.
And as for being the Slayer... the job had already asked as much of her as she'd ever be willing to give. As much as it still hurt to think about what Faith had done, Buffy'd had at least a little time to process since the younger Slayer had voluntarily gone to prison. She wouldn't be there still if she didn't feel guilty, which meant she wanted to do better. So let her.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she added: "Help, maybe, that comes with a minimum-wage paycheck? Spike knows cars, and I'll do whatever. For as long as you need me."
The woman finally pulled back, scrutinizing her with suspicious, damp eyes. "Why would you offer that? Wait, you're not with the cops, are you? Because if this is about my brother...."
"Because no one deserves to feel this way alone," Buffy said, feeling as though she was saying the words as much to herself as her new friend. "I don't know who your brother is-- sorry, I don't even know your name-- but I'm more likely to see the other side of a set of bars than ever be a cop. If that's a problem...."
The woman laughed through her tears, a smile finally breaking through again. "No, no, kind of the opposite, really. I'm Mia. Mia Toretto. Sorry, I just... don't have a good track record with kind strangers."
"I wouldn't call myself kind. Bossy, maybe. Or quippy. And hopefully not a stranger for long, either. I'm Buffy Summers," she replied back, holding out a hand like they hadn't just hugged.
"Buffy," Mia said bemusedly, shaking the offered hand. "And your boyfriend was... Spike?"
"Not my boyfriend," Buffy wrinkled her nose, "except in the sense that he is a guy, and he is kind of my friend? But I don't have to keep my cheery face on for him, and sometimes...."
"...That means everything," Mia finished, smile turning wry. "You mean it? You want to help?"
"I mean it," Buffy replied.
Somehow, she had a feeling-- stronger than any nudge from the Powers she'd felt in a long time-- that it would be good for them both.
(x-posted on twistedshorts and on AO3)
twistedshorts.The summer after Buffy should have died and didn't, she met another young woman struggling with sudden loss.
Title: an endless road to rediscover
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: AU post "The Gift" for Buffy; The Fast and the Furious (2001)
Notes: A little angstier than my usual, with a little fix-it mixed in. I looked at the comparative timelines of "The Gift" and the first F&F movie, and the idea just struck me.
The summer after Buffy should have died and didn't, she met another young woman struggling with sudden loss. 2000 words.
The summer after Buffy should have died and didn't, day saved at the last second by Spike of all people and bad guy finished off by her Watcher, the Slayer finally sucked up her pride and made a call that she should have a long time ago.
It had just been too fresh, after her Mom-- well, after Mom. There'd been too much going on. Her sister's life had been in her hands, the world had been about to end, and every time she turned around it seemed like there'd been another paper to sign. She really hadn't wanted to chase after the suspicion that the reason her father had 'stopped' sending child support for Dawn that year was because he never actually had and didn't know he was supposed to. What if the monks' memory spell hadn't reached that far? She just didn't think she could have handled, that Dawn could have handled, one more blow.
In the aftermath of Glory, though....
Buffy had survived things before that she knew she probably shouldn't have. It wasn't the facing death part that made everything seem so much clearer and more straightforward this time-- though that didn't exactly hurt. It was the fact that she'd been ready for it for once: totally focused on doing everything possible, even if that meant sacrificing herself, to save her sister. Surviving past that moment... well, it made it a lot easier to focus on what was really important.
She was the Slayer; there was no way Buffy would ever be able to hold down a regular job, even if she hadn't dropped out of college. But without a decent income, the rest of her mother's estate would only go so far toward paying off the house and keeping up with the maintenance. And whatever she chose to do, there was no way she could support Dawn all on her own. If there was any chance their dad could help, then reaching out was the responsible thing to do.
She reminded herself of that more than once over the next few weeks as her call seemed to 'jog' Hank Summers' memory and send him into a very belated dadding panic. Not that Dawn much appreciated the results-- though she'd agreed to at least temporarily give it a try. In her more cynical moments, Buffy reflected that the junior Summers was, after all, still young, cute, and entirely without gym-burning or documented psychological problems on her record; not that that would probably last for long if their dad tried to keep her in Los Angeles and bar her from seeing her Sunnydale friends, but hey, at least he was funding Dawnie's wardrobe.
In the meanwhile, Buffy was getting by. Re-enrolling in college probably wasn't a practical option, but it was summertime, so she had time to figure it out while she made sure all the baddies that had flocked to town under Glory's banner were cleared out. And occasionally talked Spike into taking her a few hours down the interstate to be there for her sister. He'd stopped the heavy flirting after everything that had happened, though he still smoked on her lawn, stalked after her on half of her patrols, and willingly spent a lot of his free time keeping watch over Dawn. And very, very occasionally explored the city with Buffy, on the visits when Dawn wasn't available for whatever reason.
She didn't have a label for that. And wasn't sure she wanted one. Because then, she might have to do something about it. Every day, her friends' lives seemed to grow further apart from hers, growing up and leaving her behind; and all the trauma they'd just been through and were trying not to talk about only seemed to make it happen quicker. It was almost a relief to have times set apart to not have to be the fifth wheel, or practice alone wondering when Giles would be back from his summer vacay in England, or walk through her empty, echoing house. Regardless of where that comfort came from.
It was on one of those days, in the evening when the long shadows and smoggy sunset made it safe enough for a vampire to take her exploring for a new place to eat, that she walked into a family market and diner in Echo Park and saw the same unfocused pain and stressed lines that looked out of her mirror every morning on the face of another girl about her age, standing behind the counter.
The unexpected jolt of recognition, like a kick to the sternum, only got stronger when Spike walked in behind her and the girl's eyes tracked up to his bleached hair, currently windblown out of its usual slicked-back look into loose wavy curls, and she visibly recoiled before covering it with an attempt at a welcoming smile. "Hi. Welcome to Toretto's."
Buffy stopped short, breath caught at the sudden, visceral force of her own emotional reaction. It was like she'd been drifting ever since the day she'd found her mom on the couch; like everything that had happened was just one more blow to brace against, until the last obstacle fell and left her with only the looming absences always at the corner of her vision. Which was partly her own fault-- she could have tried to keep Dawn, tried harder to keep her friends a part of her daily life-- but she couldn't change what had happened, or how alienated she felt from all of them now. But this woman....
She took a shaky breath, then turned and put a hand on Spike's arm. "I changed my mind. You said you had an errand in town later, right? Could you maybe go do that, and come back for me after?"
Spike glanced between her and the stranger, clearly suspicious; he took a not-so-surreptitious sniff, probably checking if the other woman was a demon, then frowned at her. "You sure about that, luv?"
"Go on," she said, giving him a wry smile. "I'll be fine."
Something more than she'd intended must have got through, because his eyebrows rose as he glanced between her and her new acquaintance again, but he made no further argument. He pulled his phone from his pocket instead, waving it in her direction. "Call me if you need anything. I won't be far."
"Thanks, Spike," she said, patting the arm and letting go. "I appreciate it."
He looked down at the appendage with a bittersweet curve of mouth, then met her gaze again, inclined his head and walked back out.
The proprietress watched the interaction with a slight furrow between dark brows, then turned a wary look in Buffy's direction. "Can I help you?"
The animation lent by curiosity brought a vibrancy that distracted a little from the slightly bloodshot eyes and weary posture, but Buffy was still entirely sure of what she'd seen. There was no way to really open the subject gently, at least not that she could think of right now, so she walked up to the counter and just ripped the Band-Aid off. "I'm sorry. Who did you lose?"
"What?" The woman took an involuntary step back. "Why would you ask that?"
Buffy gave her a sympathetic smile. "I know that look. My mother died this spring. My father-- they were divorced-- took my sister away. I had to drop out of college; no way around it really, but it was like dropping into another world where my friends don't really fit. Just me-- and my ill-advised friend. He doesn't get it, but at least he tries. Do you have someone like that, at least?"
The woman stared at her for a long moment, moisture welling up in her eyes; her mouth opened, but she didn't seem to know what to say. "I... I don't...." she managed, then turned away abruptly, bringing up a hand to press against her mouth.
Too strong to crumble. But not too strong to feel it. Buffy felt the stab of raw pain as roughly as if it had been her own, and hopped over the counter on impulse. It felt way intrusive to just offer a hug to a stranger; but she knew how much it had meant to have Angel to lean on after the funeral, if only for a few minutes, and it looked like this woman didn't have anyone.
She had a few inches on Buffy, but clung back like Buffy was the taller one-- or maybe the elder; was she missing a sibling too?-- burying her face in the Slayer's shoulder as the tears finally let go. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't...."
"Shh, no, it's okay," Buffy whispered back, stroking a hand over a waterfall of long dark hair. Straighter and sleeker than Cordelia's, it fell around both of them like a curtain.
"Everyone," the girl said, thickly. "Just about. And not really. I just-- I can barely keep the market open, I don't know what I'm going to do about the garage, school's out of the question, I...."
"You need help," Buffy commiserated, patting her gently on the back.
Then a sudden bright idea occurred to her, and she took a deep breath. Spike would squawk, but he'd do it; she knew without asking. Dawn might resent her less if she was around more. Her friends could always call her to meet up, it wasn't like they didn't already-- and hey, maybe Willow and Tara would be willing to rent from her to get out of student housing? It might take some adjustment to run in the same city as Angel on a more regular basis without clashing with his team, but... she'd built a life there for a summer before with only one major supernatural incident, she was sure she could manage.
And as for being the Slayer... the job had already asked as much of her as she'd ever be willing to give. As much as it still hurt to think about what Faith had done, Buffy'd had at least a little time to process since the younger Slayer had voluntarily gone to prison. She wouldn't be there still if she didn't feel guilty, which meant she wanted to do better. So let her.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she added: "Help, maybe, that comes with a minimum-wage paycheck? Spike knows cars, and I'll do whatever. For as long as you need me."
The woman finally pulled back, scrutinizing her with suspicious, damp eyes. "Why would you offer that? Wait, you're not with the cops, are you? Because if this is about my brother...."
"Because no one deserves to feel this way alone," Buffy said, feeling as though she was saying the words as much to herself as her new friend. "I don't know who your brother is-- sorry, I don't even know your name-- but I'm more likely to see the other side of a set of bars than ever be a cop. If that's a problem...."
The woman laughed through her tears, a smile finally breaking through again. "No, no, kind of the opposite, really. I'm Mia. Mia Toretto. Sorry, I just... don't have a good track record with kind strangers."
"I wouldn't call myself kind. Bossy, maybe. Or quippy. And hopefully not a stranger for long, either. I'm Buffy Summers," she replied back, holding out a hand like they hadn't just hugged.
"Buffy," Mia said bemusedly, shaking the offered hand. "And your boyfriend was... Spike?"
"Not my boyfriend," Buffy wrinkled her nose, "except in the sense that he is a guy, and he is kind of my friend? But I don't have to keep my cheery face on for him, and sometimes...."
"...That means everything," Mia finished, smile turning wry. "You mean it? You want to help?"
"I mean it," Buffy replied.
Somehow, she had a feeling-- stronger than any nudge from the Powers she'd felt in a long time-- that it would be good for them both.
(x-posted on twistedshorts and on AO3)
