*Author's Note: Kate-friendly fic ahead. Just warning you. If you can't handle the concept, feel free to wait for the next chapter. Just don't go kvetching in my reviews about how much you hate her. You'll only waste your own time and annoy me.
*Note II: No, the mention of Honor Harrington isn't a coincidence. Yes, that's where I get my pseudonym. Go buy On Basilisk Station by David Weber. Promise you won't regret it. Now, without further ado:
Chapter 4: Growing Life with Kate
Dawn had finished her homework the night before, so when she found herself with some spare time, she fetched her book and sprawled on the lobby couch. It was a good book, one of David Weber's Honor Harrington sci-fi series. Dawn was one of those readers who could get so lost in her reading that all outside stimuli are filtered out, and she was thoroughly wrapped up in the Star Kingdom of Manticore when she became vaguely aware of a sound that had been reaching her ears for quite some time: singing. Curious, she got up and followed it.
It was a woman's voice singing, a soft, jazzy alto that was pleasant to the ears. Gradually, Dawn began to hear the words:
"You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold."
The sound led her to an open, sunny courtyard almost at the center of the Hyperion. Dawn blinked at the brightness, then spotted the singer. A woman with blond hair was bent over a patch of earth, digging industriously. A pallet of flowers sat beside her, and one by one, they were being planted into a flower bed.
"So she took her love for to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold."
As the woman sang this, she was planting marigolds into what looked very like a field of gold. Dawn wandered out into the sunlight.
"Hi," she said.
The blond woman looked up. She was pretty, with her blond hair and light blue eyes, but not in the same way Cordelia was pretty. This woman looked like she spent very little time worrying about her appearance. Her hair was pulled back into a kerchief, she wore no makeup, and her clothes were serviceable for a day in the garden. Somehow, Dawn couldn't picture Cordelia wearing tattered blue jeans, a faded college t-shirt, and a flannel that had clearly seen better days, even if she had been digging in the dirt.
"Hello," the woman greeted in the same husky alto she'd been singing with. "You must be Dawn. Angel told me he had a guest for the weekend. I'm Kate."
Dawn walked further into the courtyard. "What are you doing?"
Kate smiled. "A little gardening. I find it relaxing. My apartment doesn't exactly have the room for this, and since this place obviously needs it so badly—well. Match made in Heaven."
There was something about this woman that Dawn thought was familiar. Something about the look in her eyes. The teen knelt down and began to carefully remove a marigold from its planter. She handed it to Kate, who had dug a hole for it.
"How do you know Angel?" Dawn asked.
Kate seemed to ponder it for a moment before finally answering, "He's a friend. How do you know him?"
"He's my big sister's ex-boyfriend. One of them, anyway. She was worried about some stuff that was happening in Sunnydale, so she's making him babysit me for the weekend." Dawn punctuated this with a roll of her eyes.
"I hear a lot of bad stuff goes on in Sunnydale." The statement almost sounded like a question. Dawn realized it was.
"You mean all the vampires and demons?" Kate betrayed a little surprise at this, but in such a way that Dawn knew she was in on things. "Yeah. My sister's the Slayer. It's her job to kill them, and she was afraid it'd get too hot this weekend, so she sent me to her ex the vampire."
Kate accepted another marigold from Dawn. "Do you see Angel a lot?"
"Nope. Not since he moved away. What about you?"
"Some." Kate shrugged. "More nowadays than I used to. I'm a little . . . between jobs at the moment."
"Got fired?" asked Dawn. She instantly knew she'd stuck her foot in it, though, as pain flared in Kate's eyes. What had seemed so familiar about the woman suddenly became clear: she was, as Giles would put it, the "walking wounded." Just like Dawn and Buffy. Just like so many people nowadays. "I'm sorry. I . . . that just slipped out."
"It's okay," Kate reassured her. She went on in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'm taking some time to think about things, and really, I needed some time off. You'll understand better when you're an adult, but sometimes it seems like one thing goes wrong, and suddenly everything's falling apart, and you can't stop it."
"I understand that now," said Dawn quietly.
Kate stopped her planting and looked at Dawn. "What happened, Dawn?"
It took a moment to get the words out. "My mother died."
There was a sharp intake of breath from Kate. "I'm so sorry, Dawn. I'm so sorry."
Dawn forced a shrug, looking away. "It's okay."
Two fingers touched her under the chin, and Dawn looked into Kate's eyes. "No, it's not. Don't let anyone make you feel like you have to say it's okay, not until you're ready."
Tears burned in Dawn's eyes, but she forced them away. "You . . . know?"
"My mother died when I was just a child," said Kate. "It leaves a hole in a girl when that happens."
"That's what Tara said, too. She's a friend, and her mother died when she was seventeen." Dawn looked at Kate. "Does it—does it get better?"
"If you deal with it, yeah, it does. I didn't for a long time, and when my father died last year—well, it wasn't pretty." Dawn processed that and knew her estimate of Kate had been correct. "But I'm dealing now, and it is getting better. Maybe that's why I'm gardening so much lately. My mother had a garden, and after she died, I kept it up for her. Some of my best memories are of being in that garden with my mother. She used to sing to her plants. Said it made them grow better."
Dawn laughed. "Mom used to talk to her plants. Buffy always said she sounded like a crazy woman."
"I thought my mother sounded like an angel when she sang," Kate said wistfully. "She insisted that they loved Patsy Cline."
"Who?"
Kate laughed. "Patsy Cline. An old-time country singer." She sang: "You know I'm walkin' after midnight, searching for you."
Dawn shrugged and handed Kate a morning glory. "Never heard of her."
"You're too young. I personally have this theory that all gardens have their favorites. My flower boxes at my apartment, for instance, love old-time rock and roll, like the Beatles or, better yet, the Byrds. So far, this garden seems to call for Sting."
"Well, it is owned by the King of Pain," said Dawn. Kate gave her a puzzled look. "I heard Willow tell Xander that Buffy told her Riley called Angel 'Mr. Billowy-Coat King of Pain.'"
Kate sat back on her heels and laughed out loud. "I've never heard him described better."
"Am I being mocked?" asked Angel's voice. Dawn and Kate both jumped. Angel was standing in a shadowed alcove, holding two Nantucket Nectars.
"I was just helping Kate," Dawn said preemptively, jumping up.
Angel smiled. "I can see that. You two thirsty?"
"Very," answered Kate.
Dawn walked over to Angel. Her hands entered the shadow to accept the two cold, sweating bottles of lemonade. She handed one to Kate and took a drink of her own. "Thanks, Angel."
"Garden's looking lovely, Kate," said Angel. He turned and walked back into the Hyperion. Dawn had a thought that was most intriguing and made a mental note to ask Cordelia about it later.
As Dawn was handing Kate the next morning glory, Kate's fingers suddenly trapped her wrist and gently turned her arm over. The scar on Dawn's arm stood out red against her pale skin. Dawn considered lying, but realized that wasn't going to work with this woman.
"I cut myself," she admitted. "I had a freak-out. It wasn't the smartest."
Kate took this in. "I took a bunch of pills. Again, not the smartest." She took the morning glory from Dawn and planted it. "I think that's another reason I'm so obsessed with gardening lately. A garden's full of life, and it's beautiful. I guess I need that."
Dawn nodded. "My mom has—had a garden. Buffy can't keep plants alive for anything, and besides, she doesn't have time. Maybe I can do it."
"Is your father not at home?" Kate asked, sounding tentative.
"No." The bitterness of disappointment welled up. "He's in Europe somewhere. We don't even know where he is. He kind of bailed a few years back, stopped coming up for our birthdays and stuff. Buffy and I had to come to L.A. to see him. Now he's run off with his secretary." She looked at Kate. "Was your dad around? After your mom died, I mean."
"He was." Kate's eyes grew sad. "And he wasn't. He didn't have any idea how to raise a little girl without a mother. I know now that he did his best, but . . . I wish I could have told him that before he died. I wish I could have let him know I forgave him."
"Was it sudden? When he died?"
"Yes. He was killed by vampires." Kate dug another hole and accepted another flower from Dawn. "Needless to say, I wasn't too friendly to Angel for awhile. I didn't see how one of the things that killed my father could be on my side."
Just then, Dawn noticed something. "You got chomped!"
Kate's fingers came up to the scar on her neck. "Yes, I got chomped. But I lived. Angel . . . saved my life that day."
"Cool." Dawn helped with the last of the morning glories. "Angel's good at that sort of stuff."
Kate wiped her hands. "Thank you, Dawn. You've been very helpful."
The teen reached up to push back a loose strand of her hair. "I'm all sweaty. If my makeup runs, Cordy will kill me. She gave me a makeover earlier."
"Sounds nice," said Kate, and again, there was that wistful note in her voice. Dawn wondered if she had any girlfriends. "I've still got some time today, so I think I'm going to get a few more flowers for those stone pots over there. Tell Angel I'll be back in a half-hour, would you?"
"Sure." She and Kate left the courtyard, and the Hyperion seemed very dark and cool by contrast.