Title: To Live in Hearts

Author: Rev. Alixtii O'Krul V, TRL of the Church of St. Jesu the Heretic, Discordian

Rating: R for slashy indulgences.

Spoilers: All of Buffy and Angel.

Timeline: Futurefic. Eleven years after " Chosen."

Characters: Faith, Dawn, Giles, Kennedy.

Pairings: F/K, with overtones of W/K and possibly F/X.

Summary: "To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die." – Clyde Campbell.

Feedback: Yes, please. Medium of exchange, y'know?

Distribution: Just tell me about it.

Disclaimer: There was once a man named Joss Whedon...

A/N: Thanks to a RL friend of a RL friend (and a virtual friend) who provided me with the location of Cork, Ireland.

Warnings: Angst, slash, character death.

London England—May 2014

Dawn just happened to look out the window of her office as Faith and Kennedy walked down Great Russell Street from Tottenham Court Road. Unless the two Slayers were on their way to visit the British Museum (which wasn't entirely impossible, as they did happen to have a collection of Japanes katanas on special exhibit), they were coming by to pick her up after her workday. She was about to put down her pen and file the report she had been working on so as not to keep them walking, but something made her stop and stare at the sight of them walking down the road. They seemed different, somehow. Maybe they were walking closer together?

They were both coming together from Willow and Xander's grave, presumably. Faith had come to London with Dawn (and Kennedy hadn't), so she could only suppose the two Slayers had met up in the Watcher's Cemetery it self. She was glad; Kennedy in particular needed someone to lean on. After all, she had been going steady with Willow for—Dawn did the mental math—five and a half years. Not to mention the part where she had been the one to actually kill Willow. Dawn couldn't imagine to have to—well, she had never really loved anyone the way Kennedy had loved Willow, had she? So she certainly couldn't imagine having to strike down that lover and kill him after he went evil and tried to end the world for the third time.

Dawn shook her head. The fact that it was harder for her to imagine a man to which she'd be absolutely devoted than an a man repeatedly causing apocalypse? A sad commentary on her twenty-something life. She should be out living the good life while her looks still lasted instead of staying in an office running the oldest human organization on Earth, responsible for the lives of hundreds of girls all across the planet. Oh well, maybe she and the Slayers could hit one of the London pubs for a drink before returning to Bath.

She looked out the window; Faith and Kennedy were nowhere to be seen, which meant they had probably entered 99 Great Russell Street already and were waiting downstairs in Reception. She slipped on her jacket, handed the file to one of the secretaries, and began down the stairs to meet them.

"Faith, Kennedy. What a pleasant surprise," she said, pretending she was just finding out they were there for the first time. Up close, she could tell that Kennedy's eyes were red. That pub stop was definitely on the agenda—she figured the Slayer needed that drink even more than Dawn did her self.

Dawn frowned. It had been Kennedy hadn't completely recovered from Willow's death. Dawn understood that some part of her would never heal, that such scars were part of the burden of being a Slayer. But as Kennedy stood now, Dawn couldn't trust her enough to assign the woman to any major apocalypses—which meant the Council was deprived of one of its best trained, most experienced Slayers—probably the best trained Slayer, next to Faith and Buffy. And while Dawn could wait for Kennedy to pull through at her own pace, the Tradescan Codex wouldn't. If they were interpreting the prophecies correctly, they'd need Kennedy, and they'd need her soon. The best Council estimates placed that particular apocalypse for three years hence—six at the most.

London England—March 2008

"Giles, do you read this the way I do?" She handed the Codex to the older Watcher, watched him peruse the prophecy with a disturbed frown.

"I'm afraid that I do," he said at last. " Lydia?"

"Don't look at me," she answered. "You know very well that my Etruscan is rusty. Although I have to agree that what the Council translators have produced doesn't seem to bode well." She paused. "If this is as serious as we seem to think it is, perhaps we should consider alerting Roger of it."

Dawn shook her head. "It is serious, and that's precisely why I don't want Wyndam-Pryce in on it."

Giles took off his glasses and polished them before returning them to his face. "I must agree, Lydia. The situation as it stands is extremely delicate. We can't afford to drag it through Council bureaucracy."

Dawn looked to Giles. "Most of the artifacts that were foundcame from where?"

Giles glanced down at the file in front of him." Erm Egypt Thebes."

"Can we assume that'll be the focal point of the apocalypse?"

It was Lydia who answered. "Based on the astral cycles, I would think that's a safe bet."

"The one good thing about the Sisterhood of Jhe: they're predictable," said Giles, picking up the prophecy and re-reading it, although he must have read it at least fifty times already. "Always follow the same pattern. The same rituals, celebrations, same brand of bloody eggnog. Everything's a sacrament."

"Except for the actual method of destruction," Lydia corrected. "In that respect, every apocalypse is different."

"Last time they tried to open the Hellmouth," Dawn grumbled, crossing the conference room to pour her self a brandy. "Seeing as how Thebes and Cleveland are on opposite sides of the planet, I don't think it requires a genius to figure they're up to something new." She paused, looking at the bottle of brandy in her hand. "You have any of that eggnog you were talking about?"

"We need your attention here, Dawn," said Giles. "And if you could pour me one while you're over there I'd appreciate it."

Dawn brought Giles' brandy back with her and handed it to me. "Willow is very clearly indicated as being present," she said, pointing to a passage in the codex. "Any reason why we shouldn't include her in the party?"

"I'd think the presence of these symbols would make the answer to that question 'a world of yes,'" said Giles, pointing to a series of Egyptian hieroglyphs. "The last time we saw them, Willow went dark."

"Only because the Order of Osiris introduced a supernatural catalyst," argued Dawn. "She has control of her self and her magicks." God, she hated the word "magick" with a k. She mentally cursed Alesiter Crowley to a thousand deaths in Es-Lazur.

"If it can be done once," Lydia said, "it can be done again. He's right. It's too risky."

"It won't do us any good to fight against the prophecy. Willow's going to be there one way or another. Either we can include her, or we can have her there as a random factor. Which do you think best?"

Giles seemed undecided. " Lydia?"

"She does seem to have a point, Rupert."

"What do we do, just tell her we're afraid she's going to go dark and then throw her into a battle situation."

"Of course not," Dawn said, finishing off the last of her brandy. "We don't tell her anything. I just watch, ready in case something does happen. The prophecy isn't clear—it might be nothing happens."

"Well, something is going to happen," Giles said, and his glass was as empty as hers. "That much is clear." He paused. "You?"

"You've hardly clocked any field experience in the last three years, Giles. I'm in the best shape out of the three of us and you both know it.

"Very well. Willow, and thus Kennedy. Xander as well, if there's even the least chance of Willow going dark. Your self in command. Who else? Buffy? Faith? Some of the other Slayers?"

Dawn thought. "We need the group small enough we can manage the various factors. Willow, Kennedy, Xander, Buffy, Faith, me. The Immortal, I guess, if Buffy's going. As for anyone else—are Beatrice DeCosta and Kimberly Mason free?"

Lydia turned to her laptop, pushed a few buttons. "They're bothstationed in Cork, Ireland. Which isn't due for an apocalypse this time 'round, best we can tell."

"Good," said Dawn. "Pull them. I need people I can trust."

"Very well," said Giles, writing down notes. "Thenine of you will take a group vacation to Egypt, completely separate from any official Council business. I'll contact Xander, see if there are any Slayers already stationed near Thebes. I'll contact Buffy with the travel arrangements. You return to Italy in the morning?" Dawn nodded. "Be careful, Dawn. You were safe in bed the last time we dealt with one of the Sisterhood's apocalypses. They're a powerful foe, Dawn. Just be careful."

"I will, Giles. I always am."

A/N: This takes place in my Watcher!Dawn universe, where Lydia lives through the Council explosion due to intervention of the Powers. Beatrice DeCosta and Kimberly Mason are Slayers with whom Faith and Dawn work in an earlier fic, "Confessions of a Teenage Watcher."