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 the revelation, Kennedy and Alex had talked a few minutes before Alex decided to sit out and wait for Willow to be ready. At very least, they'd see each other when the coven members came to check her out - after all, they couldn't all just go up to the bedroom. Kennedy had gone back to what she had been doing before - pretending to examine bills, earnings reports, paychecks, grocery and food expenditures, while stopping every ten seconds to think about Willow again.
Alex knew she was thinking about Willow again, now. Kennedy always got that same look on her face when she thought about Willow in all her glory. The look that comes with that kind of sappy, romantic love that you read about in books but any idiot knows doesn't exist in real life. Except, Kennedy had it for Willow. Total, complete, unconditional love. While Alex did come from a very loving, happy home, she had never seen even in their most intimate moments her parents looking like that.
Hell, she didn't think Willow
was even that totally in love with Kennedy. Sure, there was love, there, Alex knew that. Definite, strong, romantic love. But not the single-minded devotion that Kennedy had for Willow.
Of course, that was all gone, now, if Willow had lost her memory.
Dammit, how could that happen? What had they done wrong? All they'd fought for weeks was just weakling vampires. No master vampire in their right mind tried to set up shop in Philadelphia, between a solid base of fifteen slayers, a not insignificant witches coven, a powerful Archdiocese, and at least one very old, independent demon-hunting family that had set up shop in the city centuries ago, not to mention the Red Witch, best friend of the
Slayer, the city was suicide for anything more than your run-of-the-mill vampires hiding out in the poorer areas of Philadelphia.
How could some "big bad", as Willow called it, have gotten close enough to curse Willow like this? Without anybody noticing? Wiping memory was, as Alex's own limited memory recalled, pretty difficult and required huge amounts of power. And, most importantly, why
wipe Willow's memory? What could possibly benefit anyone to do such a thing?
Of course, a generic curse from a vengeance demon could do it, easy, but someone would have had to wish something very, very specific to do something like this. And vengeance demons like grand gestures. This was not a grand gesture. From a vengeance demon, this was tame, weak. Too subtle.
Was Alex a nerd for knowing all these things about demons and magic? She didn't think so, because it did
have directly to do with her job. You needed to know at least about
your foes if you were going to fight them.
Alex's mental babbling (as she had dubbed it quietly to herself after hearing two or three "Willow-babbles") was a stark contrast to her outer manner of speech. Sarcasm was the word of the day. Sarcasm and big words, combined with Yiddishisms and what Alex, herself, deemed an appropriate amount of cursing. Kennedy had adapted to Alex's often strong language, in English and Yiddish, while Willow still chastised her for it (though was no longer shocked by it).
It had been maybe forty minutes since she had gotten back from Central, and she had been working on her calculus homework, when she heard someone finally coming down the steps. A hope fluttered in her for a second before her slayer-enhanced senses quickly crushed it. It was Dawn, not Willow. Her slayer senses could easily discern between the two. Kennedy's wouldn't be able to, but slayer senses were Alex's strongest point by far. Of course, this meant she had to work much harder on fighting, intimidating, all those other fun slayer skills - but she was digressing.
Kennedy and Alex turned to the doorway, simultaneously, as they could hear the last steps being traversed, with Dawn appearing on the other side of the wide doorway between the front hall to the sitting room.
"Hey, Alex," Dawn said, somewhere between tired and welcoming.
"Dawn," Alex responded, acknowledging the junior watcher.
"How's Willow doing?" Kennedy asked quickly, not letting anything get away from that, to Kennedy, most important aspect of the situation.
"Good. I, uh, finished telling her the highlights of the years she missed in Sunnydale. She's still trying to wrap her head around her own power, at this point. It took me five minutes to convince her that not only could
all the slayers be activated, that she
did it. I got a bit past that, but I can't really tell her much else. I mean, that was when Buffy and I went to Italy and you and Willow," she said, nodding her head slightly to indicate Kennedy, "went to Brazil. Honestly, at that point, the only thing I can still tell her about is the wedding. Well, I could tell her all about England in '04 and '05, but that'd probably be better-"
Dawn trailed off, and Kennedy made a noncommittal sound. Dawn, after a few seconds, continued, "Oh, and she's hungry. We're hungry," Dawn corrected, "that is."
Kennedy turned to Alex, Dawn following suit, as a few seconds of silence ensued, once more.
"What?" Alex said, "Fuck if I know. I'm not ready to cook anything. I was just gonna order Chinese while you two lovebirds were out."
Kennedy rolled her eyes, and Dawn's face suddenly became less tired, "Ooh, that sounds good. Can we do that, Kenn?" she said, her eyes brightening.
Kennedy sighed at Dawn's antics. Alex, however, watched as the full power Dawn's pout, which, according to some rumors, had made the Prime Minister crack and recognize the new Council, and which had probably manipulated hundreds, maybe thousands, of poor British boys for the last few years, broke down the lesbian's resistance.
"Fine," Kennedy said. "Not like we're poor, anyway. Alex, you order it and go pick it up. Regular for me, and, I guess, Willow?" Kennedy said, with a questioning glance to Dawn.
"No, she hasn't changed her Chinese food preferences as long as I've known her," Dawn said, "She is utterly boring in that respect."
Kennedy smirked, saying "That's my Will," before the implications of the statement could really sink into Kennedy. She shook her head; Alex could see her fighting off tears. "Alex, just order the normal for Willow."
Alex looked up, standing up, and walking toward the phone, "Anything you want, Dawn?"
"Shrimp fried rice," she said, succinctly.
"Right," Alex said, picking up the phone, and beginning to order. She walked into the more quiet dining room while placing the order, and then wandering back through the sitting room, grabbing her leather jacket (a thoughtful gift from the one and only Faith) off the back of her chair on her way past, into the hall. As she went past,there was a stunted silence between Dawn and Kennedy, an emotion filled one. Kennedy was just doing the same as always, Alex grimaced to herself, as she went to the shelf in the hall. She always had to show she was strong for Alex. Hide her weaknesses. Why? Alex knew that neither of her surrogate parents were infallible or unbeatable. Her original parents had more than proven that.
Frowning after doing a quick search of the shelf, "Kennedy! Where the hell are my keys?"
Some quick detective work discovered Kennedy had accidentally pocketed the keys instead of putting them on the shelf and, after receiving them and giving a quick glare to Kennedy, Alex went out the door. As she beeped the Honda's alarm off and approached the car, her slayer-enhanced hearing could make out Kennedy's quiet crying. Part of Alex wanted to rush back in and comfort her goyish guardian, as she had once dubbed Kennedy, but it was quickly squashed. Kennedy would never let
her do that. The only thing Alex could do was get the food. Well, she'd do it. If that was her responsibility in this moment she would complete it.
She sighed to herself as she got in the car, and, after putting on her Matisyahu CD, drove away.