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Summary: Dawn and Sam have issues, and unfortunate experiences when it comes to life. Story abandoned but an authors note explains what the end would be.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Dawn-Centered > Pairing: Sam Winchester(Past Donor)KiwikatipoFR1558,6880173,0325 Jun 0710 Jun 07No

I took my love, I took it down

Title: Landslide
Author: Kiwikatipo
Rated: F18
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al.
Pairing: Dawn/Sam
Timeline: Post Chosen, post season two Supernatural.

Summary: Dawn Summers is a lecturer at the New Watchers Council in London. One of her new trainee Watcher students is Sam Winchester - secretly looking for a way to save his brother’s soul. Dawn is secretly having an affair with a married werewolf, Daniel Osbourne. Dawn and Sam’s complicated lives are further complicated by growing close to one other.

Warning: Occasionally Coarse Language. Oz might die in this story or he might not, but you have been warned if he does.

Late June 2007
London, United Kingdom

“Is his wife a ‘beetch’?” A gray suit clad Andrew studied the picture in the Monday night art gallery opening. “Isn’t that garbage what all philandering husbands claim?”

“She’s a werewolf too; I don’t know I’ve never met her.” A black cocktail dress wearing Dawn nibbled the complimentary cheese and crackers from the buffet table. She appraised the painting Andrew was so taken with. “This guy’s work sucks, Andrew. It looks like a landscape hung upside down.”

“He’s very avante garde, bambina.” Andrew put his arm around her shoulders condescendingly. “You can take the girl out of Sunnydale but you can’t take the Sunnydale out of the girl.”

The artist in question came up to his work with the gallery owner. “It’s not bloody good enough, mate.” The artist fumed. “The cretins have hung the thing upside down.”

Dawn gave a smug smile to Andrew. “Feeling a pretentious dork much?”

“Ah Dawnie, my dear sweet former room-mate, you’re so good at spotting phoniness apart from in your own twisted little love life.” Andrew guided her over to the drinks table. “You’re so like your big sister that way.”

“I’m nothing like Buffy.” Dawn carefully selected the glass of white wine that looked the most full. “I’d so never want to be.”

“Even the Cardassians sued for peace eventually. Are you two ever going to make up?” Andrew sighed miserably.

Dawn sipped her wine, “Yeah, sure, when Hell freezes over.”


Dawn Summers was twelve when she first met Daniel Osbourne and twenty when she encountered him again. Her reaction to him was identical both times, she wanted him.

At twelve years of age Dawn started getting periods and sex dreams. Her mom and Buffy always indulgently knew of Dawn’s puppy love for Xander of course, a hero worshiping besottedness that grew into mature friendship. Buffy eventually found out about Dawn’s ill judged crush on Spike. But Dawn’s sexual obsession with Oz no one ever suspected, not even Willow.

The night Dawn first met Oz, her mother threw a welcome back party for Buffy after she ran away. The hootananny was originally only meant to be for Buffy and Joyce’s close friends, Dawn recieved permission to ask along her best friend Janice. Oz’s band played, resulting in the Summers house becoming filled with Sunnydale High teenagers and U.C. Sunnydale gate-crashers. Zombies showed up at the party in the end, when your big sister was The Slayer these things tended to happen.

The Zombies weren’t the worst part about the party. Mom and Buffy began fighting midway through the getting out of control festivities. All of Buffy’s friends started picking on her too for running away. Only Oz stepped in as a peace-maker, trying to stop the nastiness. Dawn thought he was the coolest, most together guy in the universe.

Dawn hated people fighting in front of her. She always would, it reminded her too horribly of being a scared kid, not understanding why Dad was leaving Mom. Dawn still didn’t get why her father divorced their mother. Hank Summers wasn’t any happier with his new wife in Spain, than when he had been married to Dawn’s mom. Dawn never truly comprehended being in love and she still didn’t. She understood sex however and she was freaking good at it.

All her lovers past and present confirmed Dawn’s talent for being great in bed: Her Italian High School boyfriend - she lost her virginity to in Rome, her second Roman High School boyfriend, Carlos - her fellow shop clerk in the antique book store she worked with in Madrid, the summer she spent with her Dad before going to the United Kingdom and taking up a position in the Watcher’s Council as a lecturer for trainee watchers, Nick - the British Airways pilot who lived down the landing from her in Dawn’s apartment building in London, Dylan - the Scottish guy she met at a nightclub in Soho. Michael Caruthers - the married forty year old watcher Dawn had her first and to date only, one night stand with last Christmas. The males held nothing in common apart from good looks and the fact they couldn’t praise Dawn’s performance in bed highly enough.

So it was a given that Oz got a kick out of having Dawn between the sheets with him too.

And oh how Dawn got off on screwing Oz. She couldn’t decide if it sucked more that he was a werewolf or that he was married, because both states were distinct drawbacks.


Dawn faced her class of wannabe watchers on Tuesday morning. Only twelve of them this intake. Two fellow Americans were in the bunch, a girl named Jo Harvelle and a guy named Sam Winchester.

Dawn sat on her desk in front of them all. She wore her normal summer work outfit of a green shift mini-dress and flat brown leather pumps. She resigned herself to her dozen pupils’ forthcoming skepticism, everyone thought she was too young for this job. Giles fought the other Council members tooth and nail to get Dawn the placement.

“Hi, I’m Dawn Summers. I’m the lecturer in Demonic Languages.” Dawn saw the middle aged guy from Brussels, mouth drop open. Yep Charles Dupont, she was it not a tutor.

Dawn and Giles didn’t know if it was because she was an inter-dimensional key in reality not a true human, or if the monks who created Dawn accidentally gave her too much academic giftedness, but there was never a language Dawn came across that she couldn’t master in a month.

Spells helped and Dawn excelled at casting spells. She was probably Mensa candidate worthy in her intelligence.

“Crap.” Dawn rolled up the whiteboard bearing the writing of the previous lecturer to gain quick access to the free blank board underneath and got the top whiteboard stuck half way. She tugged at it ineffectually. She banged it once sharply with her fist. Ow.

“Let me.” Sam Winchester stepped up to help her. “There was a whiteboard in a tutorial room in my college that used to have the same problem.” He slid the whiteboard back into the right place with a competent jerk.

Dawn smelled Sam’s aftershave as he loomed over her, he was tall, he was handsome, he passed her standards of a male she would screw if stranded on a desert island with him. A lot of men fell into that category. Sam joined the exalted ranks of everyone Dawn had slept with or kissed so far, twenty movie and television actors and nine of the permanent staff at the New Watchers Council Headquarters. Giles didn’t make the list naturally – ew.

“Thanks,” Dawn rewarded Sam with a speedy grateful smile. He still stood near her. “You can sit down now.”

Sam sat back down next to Jo. The hot chick younger than himself, younger than Jo, was his lecturer? Wow.


“Dawn Summers knows her stuff you gotta admit.” Jo commented to Sam during their lunch time break. “Everyone does here.”

“Yeah.” Sam guessed everyone did. Which would hopefully mean he could work out a way to save brother Dean from going to Hell in ten months time. This crazy scheme of Sam joining the New Watchers Council to train to be a Watcher, was the only reason he was in not so rainy summer London. Although the new fake identity the Cleveland base provided him with was worth the subterfuge alone. No more looking over his shoulder waiting to get busted by the Feds.


“You’re a woman, what should I get my wife for a birthday present?” Oz came out of Dawn’s mildew ridden bathroom. He needed to wash and scrub until his skin was raw virtually to remove Dawn’s scent from his body so Nina wouldn’t discover his affair.

“Perfume, lingerie, jewelry, the usual cliché-age” Dawn suggested calmly. Why were they doing this? Because it felt so freaking good, why else? Would he spend more on his wife’s birthday present than on Dawn’s birthday coming up in July?

Did she care? Yeah, she did.
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