Who Are You?
Hello all, this is my first crossover ever so, should be interesting
to say the least. Of course, once I decided I wanted to do one,
Labyrinth and Buffy were the first two things to pop into my head
together (of course... ahem). Anyway, I'd love it if ya'll gave
it a chance and a review. Thank you as always, Kei.
PS: As always, thank you to Irene for putting up with crazy story
ideas and my horrid grammar. :)
Timeline: Takes place from fifth season Buffy, directly after
Joyce's death (episodic- Forever), and some time after the movie
concludes for the Labyrinth (about ten years).
Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor Jareth, more's the pity.
All works are copyright their creators (Joss and MGM, you know the
drill). I'm just borrowing. And not making a cent off it.
*************** Forever is a Gift: Chapter One ****************
"Who are you?"
"Let's just say I'm a friend."
"Well, maybe I don't want a friend!"
"I didn't say I was yours." ~ Buffy and Angel
Willow and Tara didn't know what they were talking about, couldn't.
How dare they? Dawn had watched her mother be buried today, put in
a god-damn hole in the ground where it was dark and cold and... No
one could understand that. No one could understand what that meant
to her. Not even Buffy.
Especially not Buffy with her talk of wakes and caskets and, why
the hell was she so put together? Had Mom really meant that little
to her? Dawn wasn't even, wasn't even REAL and Joyce Summers meant
more to her, had meant more to her, than she had to Buffy Summers,
her god damned REAL daughter.
Angry, angry at Willow and Tara with the well meaning condolences,
angry at Buffy with her calm acceptance of their Mother's death,
angry at everything, Dawn ignored the sympathetic looks the witches
sent her way and ignored them both until they drifted away to leave
'little Dawnie' alone to grieve and throw her fits.
Hot tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and she dashed them
away, determined, desperate to stay angry at anything and anyone.
Just not wanting to feel, to feel so sad. "I hate them, I hate
them all. For not caring enough. I hate them!"
Her whispered declaration only made her feel worse and, with a
curse that would have made Spike proud, stood and stalked to browse
the bookshelves mindlessly. Her fingers trailed over the spines of
the bindings, pausing over certain titles, "Death of the Innocent,"
"The Truth of Blood," "The Labyrinth."
Defiant curiosity made her pull the last slim volume from the shelf,
a book with a red leather cover. She sneered as her swollen
eyes traced the gold leaf title, with its ornate script as she
softly said, "The Labyrinth." Allowing herself to be forcefully
distracted and distanced from her grief, she returned to the seat
she had vacated in anger and dropped bonelessly into it before
opening the book and skimming.
Dawn sat, enthralled despite herself, by the twisting story the
words told. Faeries and goblins weren't so very far away from
her own life, but they seemed so harmless in this book. Things
to beware but maybe not fear. And the Goblin King was magnetic
in a way that reminded her most of the Master, or the Mayor, who
spoke in condescending riddles with laughter that meant so much
Granted her memories of both big bads were false but, still,
they reminded her of the Goblin King none the less. It was
comforting in a way, to think of facing some reincarnation of
them again, instead of a crazy hell god. It was comforting to
think of what the Goblin King would say to bring her proud sister
down a peg or two. To maybe make Buffy the Vampire Slayer FEEL.
Most days Dawn wondered if Buffy really felt anything at all.
That was really why Riley had left, wasn't it? Because Buffy
didn't know how to love him. Just like she had never really loved
Mom or, or, or even Dawn herself. Because if her perfect older
sister had really loved Dawn she'd be there for her right now.
Dawn suddenly didn't care if she wasn't being fair.
Its not like life was fair after all. Just one bloody mess after
another that required a super hero like Buffy to pick up the
pieces too, like organizing the details of their Mother's death.
"I hate her," Dawn whispered again, and this time, she meant it.
"I hate her and I wish..." red rimmed eyes lit upon the open pages
before her before finding the words, "I wish the goblins would
come and take Buffy away, right now!"
The lights in Willow's apartment snapped off with ominous precision
and Dawn was left wondering what exactly grief had lead her to.
The cemetery was eerily quiet. Nothing moved, not the wind through
the trees, not the grass disturbed by the newly dug grave that was
her Mothers, not Angel's chest. She clutched his familiar hand
tighter and stepped unconsciously closer to the illusion of safety
his presence granted her as Buffy turned her face upwards.
Angel reached over with his free hand to tuck an errant strand of
hair behind her ear as she stared at the cloudless night sky.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly, gently, as though harsh words might
break her. And the sad truth was, they could. It wouldn't take
much to destroy her right now. A beloved Mother's death and
crushing responsibility had already chipped away most of her hard
"I don't know, the spider sense though, its going all tingly."
Angel lifted one brow and sniffed delicately before frowning. "A
Buffy shrugged and stepped away from his half embrace, dropping the
intimacy of their shared hands as she crossed her arms over her
breast, brow furrowed as gentle moonlight softened the harsh lines
grief had carved into her features. "No," she finally replied
distantly, "not a Vampire but something, something is coming..."
The night seemed to close in on the once lovers, a blanket of
suffocating ebony littered with stars that exploded in a flurry of
ivory feathers and smoke. The feathers littered the grass of the
cemetery by the time the smoke cleared, leaving Buffy the Vampire
Slayer and Angel, a Vampire with an ensorcelled soul, staring at a
being much more fantastical than any either, in their broad range
of experience, had ever seen before.
"I think that something has arrived," Angel stated baldly.
The creature stood before them, dressed in rich purple silks and
black velvet, and leather, lots of leather, from thigh high boots
to elbow length gloves. It looked human, almost, only no human
had features that haughty and pale, and eyes that were mismatched
blue and green. Or blonde hair that would rival a lion's mane.
And very few men in Buffy's experience carried around a riding
crop, at least not ones who looked as comfortable with it as this
man looked. Also, no human male could pull off a look that
ridiculous, not even Angel in his lace shirt phases. Which all
begged the question...
"Who the hell are you?"