Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I own Buffy the Vampire Slayer nor do I own Angel the Series. If I did, I wouldn't be covering my ass with one of these dumbass disclaimers. Also Angel and Spike would be naked a lot more often, Tara would be alive, Lindsey would be a non-evil lawyer (if there is such a thing…if not, he's just the sexy one), and Dawn and Connor would actually be together. Again, I do not own any of this.
This is an answer to a challenge. Here it is: This is a Dawn crossover challenge. What if the monks sent Dawn to someone else to protect? You don't have to use Glory or anything else from Buffy if you don't want to. In fact, some of these ideas would probably work better if you only used Dawn. This can be a crossover wit anything you can think of.
This is my answer. This will have Buffy characters, so have fun later on (when they show)
~*~ Five Years Later ~*~
"Dad…you're so slow!" Dawn came into her father's bedroom. He rolled over and groaned, eliciting a devilish grin from his daughter. "Daddy…" she called in a sing song voice as she crawled up on the bed. "Daddy…it's time to get up." When he groaned again, she stood. "Daddy!" she bounced slightly. "It's time," she bounced harder. "to get up!" This time she continued to bounce until her Dad sat up.
Oliver's dark brown hair was mussed and all to one side. "What do you want?" he mumbled.
She looked down at him. "You haven't forgotten have you?" she flopped down. "You must be getting old. Amelie LeBeau said if your parents start forgetting things, they're old." She looked at him, grinning. "You're old, aren't you?"
Oliver looked back, "I'm 30, not 300. I'm not old."
Dawn shook her head, her dark hair whipping about her face at times. "You're old," she insisted. She began to giggle as her father attacked her, tickling her.
"Old huh?" he asked as he halted, his daughter was crying slightly from laughing so hard and slightly out of breath. "It's time to get up any way. Now go get something to wear, you have your fieldtrip today," he reminded her. Dawn jumped up, excited, she tore out of the room, the prospect of having a day of fun instead of boring old classes exciting her. "Appropriate dress!" he called after her.
"I know!" she yelled back, already in her room, clawing through her closet.
Connor looked at his uncle. "Why are you going to LA again?" he asked. He was a bright boy, he knew he had been born in LA. But he had been taken away from his father because the man wasn't able to take care of him. His uncle had helped set it up, thinking it was for the best. He thought Connor would be brought up on a farm in the state of Utah. But the man he had been given to had jumped into a portal where he had spent the first five years of his life. His uncle had gone and got him, and brought him back. He still had nightmare about that place sometimes, but his uncle didn't need to know that.
"I told you, I have unfinished business to attend to," Wesley told the ten year old.
Connor scowled, looking remarkably like his father, light brown hair standing straight up. Connor had found the usefulness of a product called hair gel. "You do this every year. Can't you just finish it for once?"
Wesley hid his smile from his young charge. "Hopefully this will be the last year. Now," he changed the subject, "are you ready for your field trip today?"
Connor rolled his eyes. "I'm not five anymore you know." He started to count off on his fingers, "I won't wander off, I'll be polite, I'll listen. Anything I forgot?"
"You're being impertinent," Wesley remarked as they left the house. "Here," he handed Connor a comb. "Comb your hair." Connor scowled again, but didn't say anything.
Wesley dropped Connor off and watched as he walked up to the doors and slipped into the school. "Be good," he said, more for his benefit than Connor's. He drove off; he had something to do.
"You'll be good right?" Oliver looked at his now ten-year-old daughter. Gone were the braided pigtails of childhood. They were replaced with a single French braid down her back that would be gone soon. His little girl was growing up so quickly.
Dawn turned. "Always," she smiled and kissed his cheek while opening the door. "Catch the quaffle. Make those rookies realize who their playing, one of the best Keepers England has ever seen. Make them frustrated." Grinning, she bounced out of the car and to the open doors of the school. Before she went in, she waved to her father.
The first person she saw as she entered the school was her best friend Connor. It was strange really, both of them couldn't stand the other when they first met. Then Dawn had told the ever-famous Weasley twins off for attempting to trick Connor into eating one of their candies. They had become allies, then acquaintances, then friendly, then friends, and now they were best friends.
Today they weren't in uniforms, as they were going out into London, and the uniforms were not always practical. Though some students still insisted on wearing them. "Slytherins for sure," Dawn whispered into Connor's ear.
They knew they were going into Hogwarts, and they were sure that they were going to be in Gryffindor. Almost all the Woods were, some were in Ravenclaw, and even fewer were in Hufflepuff. None were in Slytherin. It was the same for Connor.
"Where do you think we're going?" Connor asked as they waited in their classroom.
"Ministry Tour and Parliament Tour. It's supposed to be see your government day. Or something like that." Dawn shrugged, and began to adjust her sweater. "Do you think we'll get a jumper for Christmas from Grandma Molly?"
"Don't we every year?" Connor remarked. He was bored, and he wanted to know what his uncle was hiding from him.
Faith looked around the simple room and studied the men and lone woman who sat in front of her. On her left sat the district attorney. It was her parole meeting and she willed herself not to lose her temper. She had to stay calm. She had to get out. She had to get out for Tara.
Tara was Willow's girlfriend. Was being the operative word. The redheaded witch destroyed herself through magic. She let it eat at her core, and eventually it became a drug. A drug that destroyed her, but she couldn't live without it. She withered away, as Tara took care of her. Willow had died months ago. But Tara still visited. She had first met Faith when Willow came to visit.
Visit wasn't the right word. She came to tell of Angel and Buffy's wedding. It was like she was rubbing Faith's face in something she had tried to destroy. Faith hadn't tried to destroy it, not this Faith anyway. But once Willow had stood, ready to go, Tara smiled and said she would come back to talk.
And she did. They became friends. Which was odd because Tara was a quiet, stuttering, shy, 'good girl' witch. Faith was an outspoken, laidback, adventurous, 'bad girl' slayer. They were opposites, and maybe that's why they worked. Tara didn't have to worry about Faith being consumed by magic.
"So, Ms. Wilkinson, why do you think you should be let out?" the lone woman asked.
Faith took a deep breath; it was now or never.
Tara sat nervously on the metal folding chair. She had signed the book like she did every time she came. But this time was different, the guard told he to go sit. Faith was in a meeting, and would come out as soon as she could. So Tara had to wait. She wished she had brought something to read. The magazines looked ancient, and nothing she would want to read. Hesitantly she looked through the pile and came up with a National Geographic that looked like it had come out in the early 60's.
As she flipped through it, she saw someone come through the door. Deciding that watching the person would be more interesting than the magazine in her lap, she followed the man's movements with her eyes. He signed the book and talked to the guard before coming to sit down.
"Excuse me, are you here to see Faith Wilkinson?" he looked pained to say her last name, but his voice was steady and firm.
"Y-y-es," Tara stuttered, not looking into his eyes. Mentally she slapped herself. There was no reason to be nervous of a person asking a simple question. She forced herself to look up. "Wesley!" she said in surprise.
He blinked. "Tara?" he had met the woman a couple of times, when Willow had to come and help them with some magical mayhem. She had always seemed rather…quaint. He hadn't known that she knew Faith. He told her so.
She blushed, "Willow had come once. Faith and I talked a bit, and I just come to visit her now. She has nobody else."
Again, Wesley felt a pang. He had failed her. His slayer shouldn't be in jail. She should be free, fighting evil in the world, not the evil in herself. He had failed her by letting her take a walk on the dark side. "Sunnydale is a long drive from here."
"I drive from LA. We're all there now. We closed the hellmouth. Well Willow and Buffy did. We're now in LA," Tara gave him all the big news of the combined Fang Gang and Scoobies.
"And you and Willow?" Wesley asked not unkindly.
Tara refused to even look at Wesley's face. "She left us, a couple of months ago. Magic consumed her."
Wesley sat back. Willow had been consumed by magic? The sweet, quiet, unassuming girl he had wanted to sacrifice to get the mayor. She had been consumed by magic? "I'm sorry for your loss," he said finally. He couldn't believe Willow had lost control like that.
Tara smiled, "I'm getting through it. Faith and I talk. It helps."
"I wasn't aware you and Faith knew each other," Wesley admitted.
"I was with Willow when she came to inform Faith of the wedding between Angel and Buffy. It was like Willow was rubbing it in her face, and I felt bad for Faith. So I promised to come back to just talk to her. We're friends now. Angel used to come, but not any more. It's just me. And now you." Tara looked up. "What about you? Nobody knows anything about you. Angel was looking for you. He wanted to apologize for what happened six years ago."
Wesley smiled sadly. "That's nice to know, but I don't know if I'm ready for being forgiven. But I'm back in England with my aunt and uncle's family. Currently I'm raising my godson."
"This is so boring," Dawn muttered to Connor; he nodded. He was bored as she, but he was wondering what his uncle was doing. He did this every year. He went to Los Angeles for a day, but he never told Connor why he went.
"Come on, let's get out of here," Dawn proposed.
Connor looked at her as if she were crazy. "Are you crazy?" he asked. "They'll have our heads. Besides we're almost done with this stupid Parliament tour. Next is the Ministry and the family. They'll take pity on us."
"You're chicken," Dawn told him.
"Am not," Connor defended himself.
"Are to. If you weren't, you'd go with me," Dawn stuck her tongue out as if that was the only way to win.
"Fine, I'm chicken. Go off by yourself. But don't blame me if you get in trouble," Connor turned, not expecting to go off. When she did, he ran after her. "Dawn!" he hissed. "Get back here."
She turned to him, a bored look on her face. "No."
"Do you really want to get in trouble? Your dad will find out, then Uncle Percy will, and then Grandma." Connor stood back, hands crossed over his chest. "Do you really want Grandma to find out?"
Dawn thought for a moment. "She sends howlers." She thought some more. "Howlers are bad."
Connor nodded, "Now will you come?"
"Fine," Dawn told him, sticking her tongue out. "But you're still chicken." Connor glared at her as they ran to catch up.
Faith walked out of the Parole Boardroom. She had a smile on her face and a bounce on her step. She was free, granted she would be Saturday, that's when they checked in all new prisoners and checked out the ones who were to go free. And she'd be one of them.
"Hey, Faith," a passing guard stopped her. She looked up, but said nothing. "You've got visitors." She nodded and walked towards the room, the guard following. The guy had said visitors, as in plural of visitor. Did Tara bring someone? Angel perhaps?
As she was brought into the room, she sat down at the nearest Plexiglas window and looked around. There, she saw Tara, but who was sitting next to her? He had dark hair, but was a thinner build, so it couldn't be Angel, unless he lost a lot of weight, could vampires lose weight? Maybe he had become human, like the Powers that Be had promised, but he would have come, wouldn't he? Maybe Buffy had stopped him; the other slayer never really liked her. But after what she did, who would?
The man looked up, straight into Faith's eyes. She gasped; Wesley was looking at her. She would never forget those blue eyes that had swirls of grey in them. They did not have malice in them, nor pity, they had something that almost looked like respect. What he had respect for, she did now know.
He was walking towards her now, and all Faith wanted to do was run. But she couldn't, she looked away instead.
"Faith," he said. "Look at me." She looked up. "I need your help," he said.
That put her on the defensive. "My help," she drawled. "What do you want me to do? Kill someone? Torture? I heard I was real good at that. But I'm out of that business."
Wesley was quiet for a moment. "I want you to take care of my godson for me." He didn't notice Tara standing behind him, quiet.
Faith blinked before laughing. "I'm not any kid's nanny. I'm more likely to send the kid into some kind of situation that's dangerous than to make sure his boo-boo is okay."
Wesley didn't bat an eye. "Connor can handle himself. It's less than a year as well, although you are welcome to stay with me as long as you'd like."
"She would have parole," Tara said finally.
Wesley turned and nodded. "Think about it Faith. I offered. I'll keep in touch. Do you know where you'll be staying?"
Faith shrugged, but Tara butted in. "She's staying with me. I have a little apartment that we can share."
"Fine. I promise to keep in touch." With that, Wesley nodded and walked out of the room, leaving Tara and Faith to talk.
It's done! Yay, the next part had to be broken up into two parts, 3a and 3b. 3b has a bit of foreshadowing, but 3a is funnier. Well I'm off and you better all review!
