Three dollars and some change

A quick friending note: I friend people back when they make a comment to that effect in the blog. There is really nothing f-locked, so no worries on any of that. And to everyone: Hello.

Now: A while back, I had one of those fandom meme things, and madannekidd and silver_venus42 tied for the most correct answers. So here are their ficlettes!

for madannekidd
I Need A Drink
Title: Brilliant
Crossover fandom: Highlander/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Methos, Dawn, a mini-Slayer named Sarra
Rating: PG/FR7
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all things Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Davis-Panzer Productions et al. own all things Highlander. Only the story is my own.
Note: A follow-up to Drinking Buddies and No Help At All in the I Need A Drink series.

~~*~~

Methos felt the cold cement beneath him as life and a painful consciousness came back to him. I used to go decades between deaths, he thought bitterly as he tried to get his bearings. Now, I can't even get through a year.

He saw that he was in a dark alley. Breathing shallowly through his mouth, he managed to stumble to his feet. Whoever had attacked him was no longer in sight. Patting his jacket, he felt his sword still in place. Things were looking up.

He ran his hands over his body. No chest wounds. It wasn't until his fingers reached the sticky blood covering his neck and shirt that he realized what had attacked him. Vampire.

What a great way to end the night. It had all started so well. That dinner with Dawn Summers had actually been fun, much to Methos's surprise. All until she'd gotten an emergency call from her Slayer. Which left Methos alone in the restaurant, with the bill. He'd been so annoyed that he'd cut through an alley to get back to his flat, where he'd been caught unawares by the vampire. Just like a stupid little Immortal who'd only just had his First Death.

When I find that girl, I'm going to--

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted when a large wooden cross appeared in his face. The cross-holder, a dirt-covered little sprig of a girl, had appeared out of nowhere. By the look in her eyes, she wasn't planning on moving anytime soon.

Methos looked at the cross, then at the kid. "Is this the part where you tell me to accept Jesus into my heart?" he demanded snarkily.

The kid dropped the cross. "Told you he wasn't a vampire," she called over her shoulder.

A dark shadow stepped away from the wall and walked toward them.

Dawn.

Her expression was quite murderous as she approached him, but she didn't say anything at first. The girl, who must have been her Slayer, looked between them, amused.

Methos didn't know what to say. He usually got in less trouble when he kept his mouth shut, however.

After a few minutes of silent glaring, Dawn suddenly reached out and punched Methos in the arm.

"Ow!" He danced back. "What the hell was that all about?"

"I thought you were dead!" Dawn exclaimed. "I thought we were too late and you were dead! What was I going to tell Joe?"

"He was totally dead," the Slayer piped up. "No heartbeat. The vampires got him good. He must be like Duncan and all them Immortals." She seemed annoyingly cheerful, considering that Methos had died at the hand of these vampires.

Methos pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and tried to mop the blood off his neck. "Shouldn't you be in bed or something?" he said to her.

"It's not a school night," she sassed him back. She tucked the wooden cross away, then held out her grubby hand. "I'm Sarra. That's with two Rs."

Methos shook the child's hand, wincing at the innocent strength there. "Nice to meet you, Sarra-with-two-Rs." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Do you think you might be able to put in a good word for me with your Watcher? She seems a bit upset at me."

Sarra grinned. "I don't know, she was pretty freaked out when you were all dead."

"Sarra, that's enough," Dawn said. "We've got all the vampires that attacked tonight. We should be getting home."

"Okay," Sarra said reluctantly. She skipped back and gave Methos a tiny wave as she and Dawn began to walk away.

It would be so easy to let her leave. Methos knew enough about Dawn to know that she wouldn't tell anyone he was an Immortal. But as he watched her leave, Methos had to admit to himself that he'd actually become accustomed to the Summers girl hanging around Joe's bar, bothering him at every turn. And dinner hadn't been horrible, before she was called away.

"Dawn!"

The girls halted at the end of the alley, waiting for Methos to catch up. "What?" Dawn asked crossly.

He pulled his jacket a bit tighter, hoping no passers-by would notice the blood all over his shirt. "Are you going to be at the bar tomorrow?"

She stared at him for a second. "Why?"

"I was thinking, maybe I could buy you a beer. For saving my life."

There was a spark of interest, but she quickly buried it beneath the hard facade she had erected. "That might be okay," she said slowly.

Sarra grinned and bounced on her toes. "This is so cool!" Dawn silenced her with a look.

"What's cool?" Methos had to ask.

"That you're both Watchers and stuff." A frown crossed the girl's face. "But if you're a Watcher, how can you also be an Immortal? Were you an Immortal first?"

Judging by the look on Dawn's face, these questions had also occurred to the Watcher. With a sinking heart, Methos suspected that she was going to start to prying into his life until she knew everything he'd ever done.

Feeling like he needed a drink himself, Methos knew it was going to take more than a beer to deflect her interest.

end

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for silver_venus42
Dust Motes
Title: Rapture
Crossover Fandom: Firefly/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: River, Tara (unnamed)
Rating: PG-13/FR15
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all things Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and all things Firefly. Only the story is my own.
Note: Follows Dance and Screams. Third in the Dust Motes series.

~~*~~

River sat on the metal stairs, looking in the windows the infirmary as Simon tried to save Dawn's life.

She had retrieved the silver axe from the cargo bay. It now lay on her lap as she stared at Dawn. Idly, River caressed the axe, so much more elegant and delicate that anything she'd used before. It was a good axe. It slayed the monsters in the dark.

"How old is she?" River heard herself asking out loud. She was alone, in body, but there was someone else near who would answer her questions about Dawn.

"Old as time itself," the lyrical voice floated across the air. River saw the woman out of the corner of her eye. If she turned her head, the woman would disappear. Ghosts always did that.

"She's sad," River said.

"She's always sad when Slayers die." The woman, softness and light, crept forward on insubstantial hands and knees to peer through the glass. "But she keeps seeking them out. She needs to help."

"Were you a Slayer?" River asked as Jayne started down the steps. He clomped to a stop, took a long look at River and her shiny axe, then pivoted and went back the way he came.

The woman lifted fingers to the glass. "I was never a Slayer. But I tried to help."

"Is that why you're still with her?"

The woman turned and smiled, wide and happy at River. River felt the ghost's love for Dawn, all her pride and happiness and joy, and it welled up and spilled out in River's tears.

~*~

Simon finished up on the unconscious woman, made sure she was resting comfortably, then went into the hall. He knew River had been watching him, talking to thin air, but he hadn't been able to hear what she'd been saying.

He climbed the stairs and sat beside his sister. She was still covered in dust, the bloody axe cradled in her hands. Tears trailed down her face, but her faced was filled with a rapture as she stared at Dawn.

"River?" Simon tried. "Are you okay?"

River nodded. "The earth loves the sunrise, welcoming it every day as new, even though the sun was there before the earth formed from the elements into a place for life."

"What are you taking about?" Simon asked carefully. She'd been getting better since Miranda, but occasionally she had a relapse. Like now.

River turned a glowing face to him. "It's my turn to be the earth," she said, peace in her words.

A sliver of cold fear drove its way into Simon's stomach. Something had happened, and none of it made any sense. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he said. When River was like this, he knew he'd never get anything out of her.

As River stood up, uncharacteristically obedient, axe held loosely in one hand, Simon swore to himself that he'd get to the bottom of this mystery, with Dawn and River.

end