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Little Blackberry Girl

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Summary: When Buffy dies for the third and final time Dawn is given a chance to live.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Lord of the Rings > Dawn-CenteredthegenuineimitationFR1832,9630113,57023 Oct 0929 Oct 09No

Dawn Eats the Cheese

Chapter Two: Dawn Eats the Cheese

Disclaimer: Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon and Lord of the Rings to the Tolkien Enterprise.

The man spent a long time just staring at Dawn. He sat there patiently waiting for the girl to wake up examining her as he did so in a manner that Dawn was pretty much guaranteed to find creepy were she awake.

She was tall, taller than most girls. Though she really couldn’t be considered a girl anymore, in this body she was 22 after all. Her face though was still rounded and girlish in youth, framed with long hair that fanned out behind her. It had been curled for the day and was now beginning to fall flat once again. Her eyes were rimmed with black and purple both from running make-up and lack of sleep and even in sleep her brown was furrowed as she dreamed bleak dreams.

The man had never met the girl he was watching but he knew all about her and any of the core Scoobies would recognize him on sight…though they’d never expected to see him again. The man looked longingly at the tray for a moment before jerking his eyes back to the sleeping girl abruptly. It was important that he deliver the tray to the Key. That’s what the girl really was, the Key. Faintly he could see the green glow of her power turning her skin green-y gold and luminescent. Concentrating as hard as he was on her he knew immediately when she awoke and her breathing quickened unnaturally as she realized he was there.

He took a slice of processed cheese from his tray and impudently slapped her in the face with it. Surprised, Dawn shot up in her bed with a shrill eew! Normally the Guy-with-the-Cheese wouldn’t risk annoying a being of such immense power but the Key was not the girl the girl had a little soul of her own and the Key was asleep.

“Who are you?” she demanded backing away from him.

“I am of the Cheese,” he answered.

It was fun to only be able to talk in terms of the Blessed Cheese but sometimes it was really a hindrance.

“Ooh…K then,” said Dawn skeptically.

Her sister hadn’t taken him seriously either.

“Why are you in here, this is my sister’s room!” she demanded of him.

“I am here to show you the Path of the Blessed Ones-Who-Made-Cheese, you may not wear my cheese, you have your own cheese,” he informed her snatching the slice of cheese out of her hand as she peeled it off her face with a disgusted look.

Some people just didn’t appreciate the cheese. Gently he set the cheese on his shoulder. When he turned back to Dawn she was looking at him like he’d grown two heads. He hadn’t, he checked himself in the mirror behind her just to be sure.

“I wear the cheese, the cheese does not wear me!” he defended.

“Whatever,” she sighed with an eye roll.

“You are commanded by the Blessed Ones-Who-Made-the-Cheese to,” he shuddered as he forced the words out, “E-eat the Wondrous Cheese-of-Splitting,”

“If I eat the cheese will you go away?”

“Yes, but you will go away first to the land the Blessed Ones-of-the-Cheese have chosen for you,”
Dawn paused, the slice of processed cheese dangling precariously from between her thumb and index finger.

“It’s not poisoned is it?” she asked suspiciously.

The man gave her an outraged look.

“No Friend-of-the-Cheese would ever defile the Cheese in such a manner! The Cheese is the Holiest of the Holy, those who follow the Way-of-the-Cheese are pledged to keep the Cheese pure and to not eat the Cheese and to befriend the Cheese and to talk to the others who serve the Blessed-Ones-Who-Made-the Cheese!” he ranted.

“Alright, alright, I get it, no need to continue I am sorry I ever doubted you Creepy-Cheese-Guy who snuck into my dead sister’s room while I was sleeping,” Dawn said sarcastically gulping down the cheese in one swallow.

The man let out a little whimper to see the Holy Cheese so devoured without the slightest hint of ceremony or remorse. In fact the disrespectful shell of the Key seemed disgusted by the Cheese. Wrinkling her freckled nose as its smooth plastic-y goodness made its way down her throat releasing the gloriously bland plastic-y Cheese flavor to tickle her uncultured taste-buds.

“I think that has to be the worst cheese I have ever tasted,” she said making a gagging motion.

The man was struck dumb with outrage and he sputtered incoherently at this grievous insult to the Holy Cheese even as the Shell-of-the-Key doubled over clutching at her mid-section.

“What have you done to me!” she demanded before screaming out as she should have done the minute she sensed the intruder, “Xander, Giles! Help, somebody help me! Intruder,”

“I have done the task the Blessed Ones-Who-Made-the-Holy-Cheese have set for me, I leave you now to them blasphemous insulter of the Holy Cheese!” he said stiffly taking his tray of processed cheese and stalking out the door with his nose in the air.

Dawn staggered into the bed as she lost the strength to stand and moaned in pain. Bonelessly she toppled to the floor breathing heavily and clutching weakly at the duvet cover, praying that someone had heard her screaming. The door blurred and wobbled and then everything faded to black. No one came to save her, if she’d had the breath she would have sobbed in frustration. As it was her baby blue eyes rolled up into the back of her head and she breathed her last. The Shell was dead, and the Key returned to the Ether dragging the scrap of Dawn Summers along with it.
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