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Atypical Romance

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Summary: Theirs is not a normal courtship.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > Romance > Connor/DawntootsFR1553,620033,9022 Nov 122 Nov 12Yes

Dead Men Tell Tall Tales

Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Angel. That’s Joss Whedon.

Connor Reilly was a dead man.

“You’re a dead man, Connor Reilly,” Dawn swore, struggling against her bonds.

Other than rolling his terrific blue eyes, he completely ignored her, flipping through a book of prophecies that was written in Latin. Since he was holding her captive in what she presumed was a sewer, she totally shouldn’t be finding that sexy.

Dead,” she said, struggling anew at the realization of where her mind was going. “So dead.”

He finally looked at her and Dawn bit back a groan at the additional realization that her love life was going to be more screwed up than Buffy’s. They’d barely just met and this guy had her tied to a chair. Expertly tied to a chair, at that. And she couldn’t stop thinking about how hot he was.

“My dad said you talked a lot but he didn’t tell me you babbled,” Connor said, breaking into her reverie. He smirked suddenly and Dawn maybe swooned a bit. “It’s cute.”

Ugh. Ugh. He did not just say that. “You don’t hit on people you have tied up, genius!” she yelled, frustrated mostly with herself.

He scowled and she thought that finally she was maybe starting to get somewhere.

“I wasn’t-I wouldn’t-My dad would freak,” he finally managed and Dawn rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she said, yanking her arms again. “You’ve mentioned your dad twice now. Who, exactly, is your dad?”

He smirked again and Dawn was pretty sure that lightheaded feeling had to do with how tight her bindings had gotten in all her wriggling and not how very, very pretty the man in front of her was when he smirked devilishly.

“Angel,” he said and Dawn’s entire thought process screeched to a halt.

“What?” she said dumbly.

“My dad,” he said, with a little shrug as he laid his book aside, stood, then stretched, his polo shirt riding up to flash a strip of extremely pale skin. “Angel’s my dad.”

“That’s not possible,” she said, narrowing her eyes. She wanted to write it off as all the hot ones being whack-a-doodles but…But. There’d been shenanigans with the flow of time almost a year ago, right before Angel took over Wolfram and Hart. She hadn’t been able to pinpoint anything a year ago because she still hadn’t managed to get a handle over the whole Key of Space and Time thing but still. She’d felt it. And it would explain why Angel did such a quick 180 on the whole redemption thing. “Oh, goddess,” she breathed, cutting across his argument. “You are Angel’s kid.”

He smiled brightly and Dawn felt woozy. Oh, dear. She was possibly attracted to Angel’s spawn. This. This was so bad.

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “Not that most people remember. There was a-,” he waved his hands around a bit. “A thing and most people don’t know, now.”

Dawn swallowed the lump in her throat and finally nodded. “Fine. You know what, fine, you’re Angel’s son. That’s just dandy. Now you need to untie me because there’s an apocalypse that’s about to start and I-we need to go help stop it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know there’s an apocalypse about to start. That’s why we’re down here. Dad asked me to keep you out of the middle of it.”

What?!” she yelped, then yelped again when the ropes tightened painfully.

“Hey, stop that,” he said, frowning as he moved closer to fiddle with the ropes. “You’ll hurt yourself and that’s kind of what I’m supposed to be preventing.”

“Connor, we need to go help them,” she said, still wriggling. “You don’t understand. Something has been playing with the structure of time. They don’t know what they’re walking into!”

He stilled beside her, hand wrapped around her wrist. “But he asked me to…”

She looked up and saw the conflict in his eyes. “Connor, he doesn’t know, okay? We have to go help until Willow and Buffy and the others can slip through the barrier that something’s already put up around L.A.”

She watched his pale face turn grey and, with a quick jerk, her bindings fell away.

“Let’s go,” he said, determination settling across his features even as he was already striding away from her.

“No,” she said and he spun to look at her. “I need to go find Wesley. He’s the only person I know that can help me take down the barrier. And you need to go find your dad. Just keep him and the others alive long enough that help can get here. We have to go our separate ways, Connor.”

He jaw clenched and he finally said, “Wesley went to Cyvus Vail’s house.”

The rush of relief was quickly replaced with dread. “Oh, goody,” she said faintly, then swallowed and gave a decisive nod. “Well, if I’m gonna die-,” she yanked Connor into her, arms wrapping around his neck as she crushed her lips to his. His hands flailed at his side for a second before they wrapped about her waist, hands clenching in her shirt as he introduced his tongue to the whole affair. She let it go on for a moment longer than she should have, then shoved away from him, head down and panting a bit. She thumped a fist against his chest as she looked up at him and said, “Don’t die.”

Then she called up her magic and used it to shift from his arms to Vail’s dining room. She yelped when a fireball glanced off the wall behind her and flung her hands up as both Vail and Wesley turned to stare at her, unconsciously unleashing a blast wave of magic. Vail kind of…exploded but she had the presence of mind to shield Wesley.

“So,” she said into the silence that followed, watching Wesley pick something that she greatly suspected was a piece of Vail’s nose off his jacket. “I need help making sure the cavalry to arrives.”

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