See Disclaimers and Spoiler Warnings in Part 1.
Runaway Trains at 3 A.M. (3/7)
"Awww...!" Dawn pouted as the screen displayed GAME OVER in large green
letters, then let go of the joystick and crossed her arms, redirecting the
pout towards Clark. "Are you sure you weren't using super-speed? Because I
thought I totally had your guy when he walked into the treasure chamber."
"I swear, I didn't move any faster than normal. Well, normal for you, not
for me." Clark grinned and tapped CK into the champions list. "I just have
really good coordination on games like these."
"Maybe I should've said no super-speed *and* no super-coordination."
"Maybe you just should've blindfolded me, so I had to play by the sound of
the beeps and yells. And possibly the swords thwacking."
"Ooo, I like that idea. I have some more quarters, we could find something
to put over your eyes---" Dawn danced backward at Clark's glare, and tried
to look innocent. "Come on, give me a chance to beat you again when you've
got a handicap. That ought to be a new experience for you. And isn't that
what you wanted when you left home, new experiences?"
"It wouldn't be all that new," Clark muttered, not meeting her eyes, and
sticking his hands in his pockets.
Uh-oh. Impending moodiness. Not to be confused with broodiness; Dawn had
seen enough of that around Angel (and Riley's more pastel version),
to know what a good deep brood looked like. Moody didn't involve curses or
vampires or weird sex stuff. Clark probably wasn't old enough for that yet---
but he'd have to be careful that he didn't go there when he got older.
Anything less than a full brood could usually be cured by either ice cream
or a vidfest, but since neither was available, she'd have to think of
something else.
"Wouldn't you think they'd have more to do around here? They don't even have
a TV to watch. At least at an airport, we'd be able to zone out on CNN." She
grabbed his arm and tugged him back toward the main lobby. "C'mon. Maybe if
we look hard enough we can find one in some corner."
"I think it's kind of what you see is what you get, Dawn." Clark 's mouth
twitched as he named off 'tourist attractions' as they passed them. "Vending
machines. People in chairs. Windows. Ticket counter. Information counter.
Luggage counter---"
"Stairwell!" Dawn pounced on the firedoor, letting go of his hand and
gesturing grandly up the stairs. "After you, monsieur. Hardware, housewares,
bedding, and hopefully televisions and VCRs. Going up?"
"Sure, why not."
The first landing they came to had a door, but when Dawn tried the doorknob
it was locked. She peeked in the window and shrugged, unimpressed.
"Offices. Boring. But I'll bet they have a TV."
"And rules about passengers being up here, too."
"Hey, there wasn't a sign," she protested, turning and starting up the next
set of stairs. "If this really was a keep out or die section, they'd have
put a nice big sign on the fire door. We are *totally* innocent bored
customers just searching for a television set, which they haven't provided
for us. And I'm pretty sure that's against the Geneva Convention." If Spike
were here, he'd be bitching about missing *Passions*, at the very least.... Dawn
pushed uncomfortable thoughts of the vampire aside, and grinned at Clark.
"And if they keep us prisoner without the bare necessities of life, they
can't blame us for trying to escape, can they?"
Clark snorted back a laugh as they hit the top of the staircase and another
firedoor. Dawn pushed it open, flinching a moment as cold air hit her, then
skipped out onto the well-lit concrete deck of an open parking garage. "Ooo.
Much better. Which way are the mountains supposed to be?"
"That way, I think." Clark jerked his chin to the right, and Dawn walked
over to the edge of the deck, squinting into the darkened distance between
high rises and skyscrapers. "There's too much city light right here to see
them, though. Or any stars," he added wistfully, glancing upward as he
joined her, leaning against the waist-high concrete ledge surrounding the
deck.
"It's still pretty. All the Christmas lights on the apartment buildings, and
the red and green ones on those trees... plus, there's actual *snow* here. I
still can't get over that."
He flashed her an amused smile and leaned back against the ledge, crossing
his arms over his chest. "It's December. Strangely, you do get snow in
December in the normal parts of the country."
She whapped him on the arm without looking at him, but not hard.
"California's normal. Sunnydale isn't, but California is. And you still get
it in some places. We used to drive up to the mountains when my family lived
in L.A. after New Year's, just so Buffy and I could have at least one
snowball fight a year."
"Meanwhile I'm shoveling the drive five days out of seven after Halloween.
There really is no justice." Clark shook his head, then squinted at her
quizzically. "Sunnydale isn't normal?"
"Long, boring story. Dimensional portals and demon worlds and it's just a
year-long convention center for Bad Things." Which was a lot more than she'd
ever been able to explain to anyone else about the place. It was pretty
cool, being able to talk to someone her own age about it. You just didn't,
in Sunnydale; unless you were one of the Scooby Gang, the badness didn't
exist. She'd wanted to talk about it with Melinda or Lisa a couple times,
but they never had, even though she *knew* they suspected something was
wrong. It was just too hard to start that conversation. "Let's say
that if it's appeared in the Midnight Star, it's happened in Sunnydale."
"Sounds like Smallville."
"Get out. Some place in *Kansas* is evil?"
"No, honest, it is," he insisted earnestly. Dawn had noticed that he did a
*lot* of things earnestly. "Well, it's not evil, exactly, but... there's a
lot of weirdness."
"Like?"
"Umm... Mutant bug people, for one."
"Really?" Dawn turned away from the skyscape to blink at him in surprise.
"We get those too."
Now it was Clark's turn to blink. "Yeah? That's... wild. Did they hurt
anyone?"
"Nah. Well, Xander got grabbed and almost had to mate with this
praying-mantis lady, but Buffy and Giles got there and saved him first."
Clark nodded, eyes wide. "That's good."
"So, did anyone get grabbed by your bug woman?"
"Bug guy. And yeah, but we got her away from him before anything happened.
Well, except for her getting cocooned for a little while."
Dawn frowned. "You know, there should be a dating service for these insect
types, so they wouldn't have to kidnap people for dates."
"I actually think I might have seen that on-line," he said very seriously.
"Did not."
"I did, I swear." Clark nodded thoughtfully, his expression totally
deadpan and his voice so innocent that, for one bizarre second, Dawn believed
him. "It was, um, www.larva-love.com. Right in between the want ads for the
mayfly vacation tours and the bee swarming schedules."
"Larva love? Yuuuck. You're sick, Clark."
"Thanks." He ducked his head and smiled somewhat bashfully, and she
snickered, then hoisted herself on top of the ledge. Clark's smile dissolved
into a look of alarm. "What are you doing?"
"What's it look like?"
"Like you're risking a messy death at three stories. Cut it out."
"It's completely safe." She balanced on one leg to show him, holding her
arms out from her sides. "This ledge is really wide, and it's not even
slick. C'mon, jump up. The view's cool."
"Noooo." Sometime in the last minute or so, Clark's body language had gone
completely rigid, and Dawn tilted her head, examining the look on his face.
"Are you scared of heights?"
"No." His lips were pressed together tight, and he wasn't meeting her eyes.
"You are, aren't you?" She held one leg out and did a rounds d'jambes,
then squinted at him as she brought her foot back down. "Why? I mean,
it's not like you'd probably even get hurt if you fell---"
"I'm *not* scared of heights. They just... make me nervous." He swallowed
hard. "I have some bad associations with them, okay? I used to get sick
around this one place --- I don't like feeling out of control. I can't---"
"Come up here. There is nothing to be scared of. You can totally handle
this."
"Uh-unh." He shook his head violently, and Dawn narrowed her eyes.
"Come *up* here."
"No. Way."
"I might fa-all," she sang, lifting one foot and swinging it around in an
arabesque behind her. Clark's eyes got huge, and he vaulted onto the ledge
in one move, almost too fast for her to see, grabbing her arms before he
steadied himself and let go. "*Much* better."
"Oh, God."
"Breathe, Clark." He wasn't; she reached out and took his hand, squeezing
it. "See? I'm fine. You're fine. And it's pretty up here."
He clenched his jaw and glared at her, hanging onto her hand really tight
before he looked around. His shoulders relaxed, and then the cords in his
neck, and then his whole expression. "Whoa."
"Cool, hunh?"
"Yeah," he whispered. The skyscrapers around them were half-lit up, some of
them hung with gold and red electric streamers; down the block, an office
park was draped in bright gold, green, red, blue and silver icicles. Most of
the balconies of the apartments around them had some kind of seasonal
decoration--- a few lined in blinking bulbs, another with candles in the
windows, and one with an electric-blue menorah. Down below them, a huge
paper poinsettia hung from one of the streetlights, a bow from the next one,
a candy cane from the next.
In Sunnydale, Willow would be putting her menorah up in Mom's room, and
maybe getting a Yule log. Buffy might have put up the lights by now, knowing
Dawn would only get in the way like she always did. Anya had probably
talked Xander into some kind of decoration for the Magic Shop. Something
super-tacky and overdone, that would have everyone laughing for weeks.
Dawn yanked her thoughts away from home. She'd go back before Christmas. She
would. Just not yet, she wasn't ready to deal with them, or any of it. Another
Christmas without Dad. As well as Christmas without Tara, without Giles...
without Mom....
"Better?" she asked Clark, giving his hand another squeeze.
"Kinda. Yeah." He looked up at the sky solemnly, then back down at her, the
tiniest bit of a smile showing around the edges of his mouth. "It's--- I can
handle it, as long as I have someone to hang onto, I think."
"Then consider me a volunteer for hand-holding duty, okay?" Ohmigod, had she
just said that? He must think she was a *total* geek.... But he wasn't
laughing at her, he was smiling, and he wasn't letting go of her hand,
either. Breathe, Dawn. "I mean, you know, if you need it."
"Thanks." He tightened his fingers on hers for a second, and she hoped that
he'd think her cheeks were red because of the cold. It was so weird. Half
the time, he was this complete doof, as bad as Xander, and the other half of
the time.... Not thinking about that. Just standing there on the ledge,
looking at the skyscrapers and the cool scenery with the cool guy who she
could actually talk to about the weirdness that was her life.
She looked away from him and pretended to look at the lights, but couldn't
help the smile that snuck up on her in spite of herself. "No problem."
**
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{
kikimariposa@prodigy.net
Runaway Trains at 3 A.M. (3/7)
"Awww...!" Dawn pouted as the screen displayed GAME OVER in large green
letters, then let go of the joystick and crossed her arms, redirecting the
pout towards Clark. "Are you sure you weren't using super-speed? Because I
thought I totally had your guy when he walked into the treasure chamber."
"I swear, I didn't move any faster than normal. Well, normal for you, not
for me." Clark grinned and tapped CK into the champions list. "I just have
really good coordination on games like these."
"Maybe I should've said no super-speed *and* no super-coordination."
"Maybe you just should've blindfolded me, so I had to play by the sound of
the beeps and yells. And possibly the swords thwacking."
"Ooo, I like that idea. I have some more quarters, we could find something
to put over your eyes---" Dawn danced backward at Clark's glare, and tried
to look innocent. "Come on, give me a chance to beat you again when you've
got a handicap. That ought to be a new experience for you. And isn't that
what you wanted when you left home, new experiences?"
"It wouldn't be all that new," Clark muttered, not meeting her eyes, and
sticking his hands in his pockets.
Uh-oh. Impending moodiness. Not to be confused with broodiness; Dawn had
seen enough of that around Angel (and Riley's more pastel version),
to know what a good deep brood looked like. Moody didn't involve curses or
vampires or weird sex stuff. Clark probably wasn't old enough for that yet---
but he'd have to be careful that he didn't go there when he got older.
Anything less than a full brood could usually be cured by either ice cream
or a vidfest, but since neither was available, she'd have to think of
something else.
"Wouldn't you think they'd have more to do around here? They don't even have
a TV to watch. At least at an airport, we'd be able to zone out on CNN." She
grabbed his arm and tugged him back toward the main lobby. "C'mon. Maybe if
we look hard enough we can find one in some corner."
"I think it's kind of what you see is what you get, Dawn." Clark 's mouth
twitched as he named off 'tourist attractions' as they passed them. "Vending
machines. People in chairs. Windows. Ticket counter. Information counter.
Luggage counter---"
"Stairwell!" Dawn pounced on the firedoor, letting go of his hand and
gesturing grandly up the stairs. "After you, monsieur. Hardware, housewares,
bedding, and hopefully televisions and VCRs. Going up?"
"Sure, why not."
The first landing they came to had a door, but when Dawn tried the doorknob
it was locked. She peeked in the window and shrugged, unimpressed.
"Offices. Boring. But I'll bet they have a TV."
"And rules about passengers being up here, too."
"Hey, there wasn't a sign," she protested, turning and starting up the next
set of stairs. "If this really was a keep out or die section, they'd have
put a nice big sign on the fire door. We are *totally* innocent bored
customers just searching for a television set, which they haven't provided
for us. And I'm pretty sure that's against the Geneva Convention." If Spike
were here, he'd be bitching about missing *Passions*, at the very least.... Dawn
pushed uncomfortable thoughts of the vampire aside, and grinned at Clark.
"And if they keep us prisoner without the bare necessities of life, they
can't blame us for trying to escape, can they?"
Clark snorted back a laugh as they hit the top of the staircase and another
firedoor. Dawn pushed it open, flinching a moment as cold air hit her, then
skipped out onto the well-lit concrete deck of an open parking garage. "Ooo.
Much better. Which way are the mountains supposed to be?"
"That way, I think." Clark jerked his chin to the right, and Dawn walked
over to the edge of the deck, squinting into the darkened distance between
high rises and skyscrapers. "There's too much city light right here to see
them, though. Or any stars," he added wistfully, glancing upward as he
joined her, leaning against the waist-high concrete ledge surrounding the
deck.
"It's still pretty. All the Christmas lights on the apartment buildings, and
the red and green ones on those trees... plus, there's actual *snow* here. I
still can't get over that."
He flashed her an amused smile and leaned back against the ledge, crossing
his arms over his chest. "It's December. Strangely, you do get snow in
December in the normal parts of the country."
She whapped him on the arm without looking at him, but not hard.
"California's normal. Sunnydale isn't, but California is. And you still get
it in some places. We used to drive up to the mountains when my family lived
in L.A. after New Year's, just so Buffy and I could have at least one
snowball fight a year."
"Meanwhile I'm shoveling the drive five days out of seven after Halloween.
There really is no justice." Clark shook his head, then squinted at her
quizzically. "Sunnydale isn't normal?"
"Long, boring story. Dimensional portals and demon worlds and it's just a
year-long convention center for Bad Things." Which was a lot more than she'd
ever been able to explain to anyone else about the place. It was pretty
cool, being able to talk to someone her own age about it. You just didn't,
in Sunnydale; unless you were one of the Scooby Gang, the badness didn't
exist. She'd wanted to talk about it with Melinda or Lisa a couple times,
but they never had, even though she *knew* they suspected something was
wrong. It was just too hard to start that conversation. "Let's say
that if it's appeared in the Midnight Star, it's happened in Sunnydale."
"Sounds like Smallville."
"Get out. Some place in *Kansas* is evil?"
"No, honest, it is," he insisted earnestly. Dawn had noticed that he did a
*lot* of things earnestly. "Well, it's not evil, exactly, but... there's a
lot of weirdness."
"Like?"
"Umm... Mutant bug people, for one."
"Really?" Dawn turned away from the skyscape to blink at him in surprise.
"We get those too."
Now it was Clark's turn to blink. "Yeah? That's... wild. Did they hurt
anyone?"
"Nah. Well, Xander got grabbed and almost had to mate with this
praying-mantis lady, but Buffy and Giles got there and saved him first."
Clark nodded, eyes wide. "That's good."
"So, did anyone get grabbed by your bug woman?"
"Bug guy. And yeah, but we got her away from him before anything happened.
Well, except for her getting cocooned for a little while."
Dawn frowned. "You know, there should be a dating service for these insect
types, so they wouldn't have to kidnap people for dates."
"I actually think I might have seen that on-line," he said very seriously.
"Did not."
"I did, I swear." Clark nodded thoughtfully, his expression totally
deadpan and his voice so innocent that, for one bizarre second, Dawn believed
him. "It was, um, www.larva-love.com. Right in between the want ads for the
mayfly vacation tours and the bee swarming schedules."
"Larva love? Yuuuck. You're sick, Clark."
"Thanks." He ducked his head and smiled somewhat bashfully, and she
snickered, then hoisted herself on top of the ledge. Clark's smile dissolved
into a look of alarm. "What are you doing?"
"What's it look like?"
"Like you're risking a messy death at three stories. Cut it out."
"It's completely safe." She balanced on one leg to show him, holding her
arms out from her sides. "This ledge is really wide, and it's not even
slick. C'mon, jump up. The view's cool."
"Noooo." Sometime in the last minute or so, Clark's body language had gone
completely rigid, and Dawn tilted her head, examining the look on his face.
"Are you scared of heights?"
"No." His lips were pressed together tight, and he wasn't meeting her eyes.
"You are, aren't you?" She held one leg out and did a rounds d'jambes,
then squinted at him as she brought her foot back down. "Why? I mean,
it's not like you'd probably even get hurt if you fell---"
"I'm *not* scared of heights. They just... make me nervous." He swallowed
hard. "I have some bad associations with them, okay? I used to get sick
around this one place --- I don't like feeling out of control. I can't---"
"Come up here. There is nothing to be scared of. You can totally handle
this."
"Uh-unh." He shook his head violently, and Dawn narrowed her eyes.
"Come *up* here."
"No. Way."
"I might fa-all," she sang, lifting one foot and swinging it around in an
arabesque behind her. Clark's eyes got huge, and he vaulted onto the ledge
in one move, almost too fast for her to see, grabbing her arms before he
steadied himself and let go. "*Much* better."
"Oh, God."
"Breathe, Clark." He wasn't; she reached out and took his hand, squeezing
it. "See? I'm fine. You're fine. And it's pretty up here."
He clenched his jaw and glared at her, hanging onto her hand really tight
before he looked around. His shoulders relaxed, and then the cords in his
neck, and then his whole expression. "Whoa."
"Cool, hunh?"
"Yeah," he whispered. The skyscrapers around them were half-lit up, some of
them hung with gold and red electric streamers; down the block, an office
park was draped in bright gold, green, red, blue and silver icicles. Most of
the balconies of the apartments around them had some kind of seasonal
decoration--- a few lined in blinking bulbs, another with candles in the
windows, and one with an electric-blue menorah. Down below them, a huge
paper poinsettia hung from one of the streetlights, a bow from the next one,
a candy cane from the next.
In Sunnydale, Willow would be putting her menorah up in Mom's room, and
maybe getting a Yule log. Buffy might have put up the lights by now, knowing
Dawn would only get in the way like she always did. Anya had probably
talked Xander into some kind of decoration for the Magic Shop. Something
super-tacky and overdone, that would have everyone laughing for weeks.
Dawn yanked her thoughts away from home. She'd go back before Christmas. She
would. Just not yet, she wasn't ready to deal with them, or any of it. Another
Christmas without Dad. As well as Christmas without Tara, without Giles...
without Mom....
"Better?" she asked Clark, giving his hand another squeeze.
"Kinda. Yeah." He looked up at the sky solemnly, then back down at her, the
tiniest bit of a smile showing around the edges of his mouth. "It's--- I can
handle it, as long as I have someone to hang onto, I think."
"Then consider me a volunteer for hand-holding duty, okay?" Ohmigod, had she
just said that? He must think she was a *total* geek.... But he wasn't
laughing at her, he was smiling, and he wasn't letting go of her hand,
either. Breathe, Dawn. "I mean, you know, if you need it."
"Thanks." He tightened his fingers on hers for a second, and she hoped that
he'd think her cheeks were red because of the cold. It was so weird. Half
the time, he was this complete doof, as bad as Xander, and the other half of
the time.... Not thinking about that. Just standing there on the ledge,
looking at the skyscrapers and the cool scenery with the cool guy who she
could actually talk to about the weirdness that was her life.
She looked away from him and pretended to look at the lights, but couldn't
help the smile that snuck up on her in spite of herself. "No problem."
**
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{
kikimariposa@prodigy.net
