So, yeah, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
belongs to me and I own the rights to all the characters and concepts I use in this story. That’s why I’m posting it for free, online, and live in a small dorm room. Seriously, no, this all belongs to Joss Whedon.
After joining Kennedy for a slice of frozen pizza from the pie she’d put in for Willow and Dawn, Anna had gone back home, across the street, to do research. The coven was going to get everything together, a few of their members coming over that night to analyze Willow’s memory loss. Fortunately, all the critical members of the coven – who specialized in this sort of thing – were free this evening.
Kennedy had been alone for a while, at that point. She didn’t have any lessons today, fortunately. Most other days of the week, she would have had to go to her ‘job’ – teaching middle and high schoolers self defense after school. After the way her parents had allowed Dr. Moore to raise her, it was her only real skill. And, of course, having been born wealthy, and having a wife who made large amounts of money at her own work, she didn’t even bother to make money there. The community center she worked at had too few resources as it was.
And, unlike Giles, or Faith’s old watcher, Dr. Moore had seen the long-term benefits of having Kennedy progressively certified as she learned as a potential.
But, Tuesdays, Kennedy had no lessons. Willow had insisted – badness tended to happen on Tuesday. And damned if she hadn’t been right.
Kennedy had needed to do something to keep her occupied, on what was supposed to be a romantic day. The happiest day of the year. Her anniversary. Two years ago, in rural Massachusetts, Kennedy and Willow had tied the knot. Permanently, God willing, bound their fates together. Sure, it was just a legal ceremony with some judge officiating, but it meant something. And today, the second anniversary of that auspicious day, meant something. And that Willow had lost her memory, today of all days, meant something.
What that something was, Kennedy didn’t know. And it pissed her off that she didn’t know.
On the practical side of things, she’d cancelled the planned romantic evening. Dining in one of Philadelphia’s more exclusive restaurants (which, despite their combined wealth, Willow and Kennedy did rather rarely), sweeping off of the feet, and a night in a fancy hotel in Center City. All cancelled. No point in keeping it. No way that Willow would possibly be ready to do it, even if she recovered this moment.
That pissed Kennedy off, too. Not at Willow – at whatever bastard did this to her.
But, at this moment, she had other things to worry about. Like how she was going to explain this to Alex. Actually, that wasn’t too bad. Alex was actually pretty good about the supernatural world and the weirdness associated with it. Considering the circumstances of her adoption by Kennedy and Willow, it was surprising how well she took to the world of vampire slayage.
Speaking of the King of Rome, “Hey, Alex.”
The tall, athletic teenager slammed the door shut with her foot, and, in a show of slayer precision, threw an object at high speed directly at Kennedy. Kennedy reached up, plucking the car keys out of the air with her right hand before folding her arms in front of her chest.
“How was school?”
“Alright,” Alex said, shifting herself to look at the table beside the door, picking up a stack of mail and paging through it. “Anything for me?” she said, still looking down at the letters in her hand.
“Not a thing.”
Alex dropped the mail, and began moving into the house. “Anything happen?”
Kennedy sighed, “Yeah, it did.”
Alex stopped, and turned, “From your tone, it’s something bad. But from your lack of urgency, it’s not critical. So, let me put my stuff away then you fill me in.”
Kennedy rolled her eyes at the somewhat blasé, yet completely natural (for Alex) reaction, and turned around and went back into the sitting room, to which Alex followed her. Kennedy sat on one of the large couches in the room, while Alex went to the small desk she’d claimed as her own – an older computer sat on it, with a few drawers which held most of Alex’s school stuff and supplies. Alex dropped her bookbag by the desk. The two textbooks she was carrying found their way into the stack on her desk, before she sat down, turning to Kennedy, now collected.
“Okay. What’s up?”
“Something happened to Willow.”
Kennedy’s emotion-filled words hung on the air for a few seconds, while Alex looked at her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“She’s –“ Kennedy hesitated, “She’s lost her memory.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed, clearly about to bring up Willow’s slight tendency toward absentmindedness and Kennedy said, “I mean a lot of it. I mean, to before I even met
At this declaration, however, Alex’s eyes widened, “What happened?” she said, an undercurrent of anger in her voice. Alex was a straightforward person, like Kennedy – see evil, slay evil. And she, like Kennedy, had a deep love for Willow Rosenberg. Though nothing like Kennedy’s – Alex was straight as a board.
No, Alexandra Silverman’s love for Willow was very different. In the wake of becoming a slayer some years ago, Alex’s parents had been surprisingly understanding. They let their daughter train with Kennedy and the college-age slayers Willow watched throughout Philadelphia, and encouraged her to excel at her new talent. Of course, they insisted on school and shul, first, not that this was opposed by Willow or Kennedy.
What happened, tragically, was the worst that could have. One random day, Alex’s mother had left work and never gotten home. The next night, while Alex was out, with slayers and Willow, scouring Philadelphia for any sign, she returned home – and drank Alex’s father. Alex, having been dropped off by another slayer outside the house, had been forced to stake the monster, with her mother’s face, all alone.
Her mother’s ‘disappearance’ and father’s murder had caused her only remaining family, an aunt and uncle living in Miami, to insist on her coming to live there. Willow and Kennedy had quickly offered themselves as a replacement, so that Alex wouldn’t have to leave everything familiar. After a long battle, they’d won.
Kennedy had never known, entirely, how Willow had brought Alex back from the precipice of depression and a suicide attempt in that time, but, since then, Willow had become a surrogate mother to Alex. Not to say that Kennedy and Alex weren’t close (which they were, like sisters), but Alex and Willow were so much so, at times, that Kennedy would swear they were actually mother and daughter.
Kennedy sighed, answering, “We don’t know. Some people from the coven are coming tonight to check her out.”
“Where is she now?”
“Upstairs, with Dawn. Since Dawn’s the only person who knew her then,” Kennedy trailed off.
“Yeah,” Alex said.
They sat for a few seconds in silence before Alex spoke again: