FIC: 01Divergence: Love, the Abnormally Weird Kind (Pat Kelly)

Disclaimer: Pat owns nothing, Joss is god. Mutant Enemy rules the universe, he’s just playing in it.

Divergence: Love, the Abnormally Weird Kind

I didn't know; I swear I didn't. All I wanted was my mom back. Why can't I? She shouldn't've died in the first place. And Buffy just kept going like nothing happened. She wasn't there for me, Mom would've been. She didn't even like, show any reaction at all. Sure, she got things ready for the funeral and whatever, but she did it like someone who does it everyday. You don't bury your mother everyday, right? Or maybe she does in her head...

I'm stupid, and I'm a jerk. I'm the biggest, stupidest jerk ever. I thought Buffy didn't care. About Mom dying, about me...I was *so* wrong. She's crying because I didn't know that. I made my sister cry. Technically I guess she's not, but we're close, ya know? I'm a part of her. In the literal sense. I'm not kidding. Can two people get much closer than that? I still have the memories; I know how I feel. I love her like she's my sister, and that's enough.

But cause I came from her...yuck, that sounds gross...I-I dunno, I care about her in a different way than I think I would if we were just normal sisters. I heard something on TV once about how twins have this weird connection like, all the time, even when they're separated at birth and have no idea they have a twin until they meet each other when they're really old. I think Buffy and me have that. When we're not fighting over stuff.

I can't fight with her now, though. She was just trying to be strong and brave for me, that's all. She doesn't want Mom gone any more than I do. I've never seen her like this before; she's...breaking. Well, there was the whole "Angel" drama nobody would tell me about...but that was only...this isn't the same, okay? She thinks she has to be tough twenty-four hours a day, but she doesn't. Crying just proves she's human, and that's good. Except, I cry...and I'm not human.

You know your life is messed up when you have no clue what you are.

"And I'm trying. Dawn, I am. I am really trying to take care of things, but I don't even know what I'm doing. Mom always knew."

"Nobody's asking you to be Mom." I tell her.

She's hurting. At least we can finally hurt together.

"Well, who's gonna be if I'm not? Huh, Dawn? Have you even thought about that? Who's gonna make things better? Who's gonna take care of us?"

"Buffy..." God, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry.

"I didn't mean to push you away, I didn't. I just, I couldn't let you see me." Now I'm crying too, and Buffy thinks it's her fault. It's not, but I can't talk. "Oh god, Dawnie..."

I'm usually jealous of her. I mean, she's beautiful, she can kick total monster butt, and she makes everyone fall in love with her, like, without even knowing it. Spike loves her so much that if she asked him, he'd probably have his fangs taken out, and he doesn't even have a soul. How does she do that? But right now, my sister's just a person who's not so invulnerable. It's weird, but I kinda respect that.

"I don't know what we're gonna do. I'm scared."

Me too.

"Buffy..." Can't I say more than her name? Geez, way to help her, Dawn.

Someone's knocking? Oh no. No, no, no, no. I forgot. The spell. It's not gonna be Mom, it's not gonna be Mom...

"Mommy?"

But she's smiling. She's turning around, cause she wants it to be. So do I, but it isn't. It's gonna be something else, and-and I'm using my brain a little too late.

"Buffy." I sound afraid cause I am. I have to...I have to stop this.

"Mom."

She's running for the door. The photo. I used it for the spell. I have to tear it up; it'll be over then. I think. We'll be alone for good, on our own. Can we handle it? I hope so, cause we're not gonna have a choice. We'll have each other and the gang, though, so alone might not be that bad.

Wow, Mom was pretty. "Goodbye." I whisper.

Then I rip her picture, put the two halves on the table, and walk into the foyer as Buffy turns toward me. No one's outside. She looks so sad.

"Dawn."

She starts to sob, and I'm joining in. I go hug her, and it feels like we've switched. For once, I'm protecting her. I'm glad--that I can do this for her, not that she's upset. It's nowhere near what she's done for me, but she has to know that I love her...especially now.

"It's okay." We're slowly dropping to the floor, but I'm gonna keep holding on. "It's okay. I love you, and w-we're gonna be okay." Gotta make sure she knows.

We stay like this only for a few minutes, but it feels like a few hours. I used to hate hugging Buffy, I didn't even like being near her. When Mom got sick, that changed. Mostly cause she won't let me do anything by myself, except maybe floss, but...I don't mind sometimes. I always wanted her to pay more attention to me; now she is. I look up to her, but you didn't hear me say that, got it?

A lot of things have changed, actually. It'd be nice if there was a "Stop" button I could push, cause I don't think things are gonna be like they were, ever again. That's the really scary part.

She pulls away from me, and she's gonna apologize. For what? I take my hand and wipe the tears off her cheeks, and then I lean in and give her a kiss. It's one of those, "we're family" kisses, honest. There's no tongue or anything. Eww, like I would...I like her lips; they're soft. No wonder that's all Angel and Riley did...and this is where the button would come in handy. It's not super long, but it lasts longer than it should. I don't think she noticed.

Did she?

We're emotional; I'm emotional. We buried our mom. My guidance counselor said that grief makes you do strange...why am I thinking about this? It's done, it wasn't a big deal, and she isn't saying anything. It's fine.

Yeah. It's fine.

***

I'm going nuts. That's not supposed to happen till I'm like, thirty-five, and since I probably won't live to see summer...wanna bet? I could be more positive, but I'm losing my mind, remember? And not just cause of the "a lame-o god reject needs me cause I open up some sorta lock" thing. I so wish that was it; I don't want my life to be more complicated than it already is.

My room. I came up here to...um...oh. To get plates cause Buffy and Giles're washing the dishes. There aren't any, but I don't wanna go back downstairs yet. She might ask me if anything's wrong, and...that'd be bad. Cause there is. I liked it; I'm sick. She's my sister. You know what's worse? Thinking about doing it again doesn't make me wanna throw up. I'm seriously disturbed.

I know I'm "psycho girl whose mom died" all the kids avoid, and I don't blame them. I am a psycho. I'm trying too hard to be freaked, aren't I?

Tomorrow means it's been a week. I kissed her a week ago. I *kissed* her. Nope. See? I said it was no big deal, and it wasn't. Not because it was nothing, because it...I can't describe it. It was like, as soon as it happened, it felt like I shoulda done it a long time ago--like the most natural thing in the world or something. It felt good, better than good, and every time I...something keeps telling me to.

I loved her before I became a weirdo, so that's not it. It's...more? Don't ask me why any of this is going on, cause it beats me, but she doesn't need her kid sister having a crush on her right now; she hasn't been okay. She'd put me in a mental hospital. But-but it's not a crush, either. I had a crush on Xander, on Spike, and that guy in the mall that always hangs by the penny fountain. I know crushes.

What am I gonna do? Hide under the bed forever without food and water? I gotta go back, and just...stay in control. Easy.

Deep breath, Dawn. You can handle this. Hey, look, there's a cup on the floor. On the...? Whew. Empty. It didn't spill.

I grab it, leave my room, and start walking down the stairs. They're in the living room. Yep. Talking about slayer stuff. Whenever she's with Giles, that's all they talk about.

"There is something, in the Watchers Diaries...a quest." I hear him say to her.

"A quest? Like finding a grail or something?" She asks.

Finding a grail? Oh yeah. That movie where that evil, rich guy was working with the Nazis and his skin melted off cause he drank out of the wrong cup. I look at the one I'm holding, and then I shake my head--I was six. Big mistake.

"Not a grail...maybe, answers?" He pauses; I think it's a British thing. You know, for effect? "We'll take a day, perhaps two."

"I'm not leaving Dawn. Not with Glory looking for her."

I hafta smile as I go in. When she says things like that, it makes it harder.

"Sure you can." I tell them, sitting next to Buffy on the couch. She's so much prettier than I am. "What's the deal?"

"Some slayers before Buffy found it helpful in regaining their focus. In learning more about their role. There's a sacred place in the desert, it's-it's not far." Giles continues.

"But I *can't* go." She insists. "I'm not leaving you, Dawn."

"If you have to go learn...I mean, if it'll help you out, I think you should do it. I can 'hang with the gang.' I'll be okay."

Time away could be good. I wanna kiss her. That's not healthy. I can put it behind me, she'll come home, and it'll all be fine. Why is her hand on my hair? So *not* helping.

"I love you, Dawn. You know that, right?" She's serious.

"Yeah. I love you too." I hope my voice didn't crack.

"I love you. *Really* love you."

What did she mean by that? Act nervous. Wait. I am nervous.

"Gettin' weird." I give her a strange smile.

"Sorry. But it's important that I tell you. Weird love's better than no love."

I'm hugging her, but what did she mean by that? Huh? Does she know?

"I'll show myself out." He announces in the middle of our hug. "I have the necessary...supplies, all you need to do is be sure to sleep."

"Thank Giles for dinner, Dawn." Buffy tells me.

Uh...

"Thanks, Giles. It was--" Come on, come on...I get nudged. "Tasty."

"You're welcome. Good night, girls." He smiles, and then he's out the door.

I rest my head on her shoulder, and she brushes some of my hair behind my ear. Okay, my brain's officially on vacation. If it wasn't, I wouldn't be sitting like this. She's watching me. We smile at each other...and now she looks confused. Uh oh. I knew this was gonna happen. Why do faces have to make expressions? Man. Whatever it is, I won't be able to explain; there's no lie good enough.

I sit up. "Buffy..."

"Yeah?" I just stare at her, and drag my fingers through her hair. I want mine curly too. Great. She knows how out of it I'm being. "Dawn?"

Just like that, like it doesn't matter, my mouth touches hers. I have zero control. Every reason I had to be worried, to fight this, is completely gone. I don't know if I'm a good kisser; the boys in school reek. I could suck. They're tiny ones, and she's...she's kissing me back. She feels it? Thank God. This is right. It just is. She's bringing her hand to my cheek...

And she's stopping. Her eyes bug out.

"Go brush your teeth." It sounds like an order.

"Are we--?" My breath smells?

"Never mind. Just...go to bed."

I just made things worse. I told you I was going nuts, but I've been there for a while.

***

Buffy stood in the hallway outside Willow and Tara's dorm room, having just visited her final professor. She was now a college dropout. Temporarily. Her attention had to be focused elsewhere, but next semester, if possible, she'd get back on the "higher education" bandwagon. But a coma, a debilitating injury, or death, were also possible. And more likely.

Two days had passed since her excursion to the desert. While there, her guide said that death was her gift, and that she was full of love; the former was the more depressing of the two. Coming home to her sex-bot twin hadn't been very uplifting, but Spike did the right thing, so she forgave him for using his obscene toy. It wasn't like she was much better than he was.

The answers she went searching for left her only with another set of questions. She didn't feel full of love, she felt hollowed; her life wasn't in her hands anymore. It almost went forward without her, putting up roadblocks and taking unexpected turns whenever it wanted. Simply to see how she would overcome them, it was amused by her struggling attempts to survive.

That's why she was up against a god, that's why her mother was dead, and that's why she had a sister who was so troubled by their mother's death, that the girl added another wrinkle to their relationship...a problem wrinkle.

Needed smoothing out, but Buffy was too thrown to grasp how to handle it. The kisses, Dawn, occupied her constantly, having priority even over the results of her cryptic quest, and a certain vampire's obsessive affections. Was he influencing...? No. Stupid. Dawn just didn't know the right outlet for coping with--

"Don't lay all this on her." Buffy chastised herself. She knew what she did.

Knocking lightly, after a minute, Tara opened the door, her smile uncertain and surprised. "Buffy?"

"Hey, Tara." Her smile was strained. She wanted to, yet it was almost...difficult.

"Oh, uh, h-hi." Came the sheepish greeting. "Are you looking for W-willow? Because she's tutoring--"

"Good. I hafta talk to you. It's better that..." She trailed off. "Can I come in?"

"S-sure." The blonde witch blushed, stepping aside to allow the slayer to enter.

Once her guest was inside, she shut the door. Buffy looked around, noticing Tarot cards laid out on the bed. "Bad time?"

"No, not at all." Tara walked over to the cards, and began gathering them up. "I was just practicing. So why do you wanna...ta-talk to me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" The girl beamed. Sometimes the doubts returned, and this was further proof that they were unfounded, so she listened. "I need to tell somebody, cause I'm driving myself crazy. And anyone else would look at me like I have two heads--heads that deserve to be shot. Including Willow." Buffy sat on the bed's edge, while her host took the opposite side, shuffling the reformed deck. "You think sleeping with Spike is the lowest I could sink? Well, this is lower."

Tara kept drawing cards, deciphering their meanings as she added new ones, and wondered what to say next. She chose to play it safe. "I'm sorry...we should've known that y-you'd never--"

"Trust me, don't apologize." She waited anxiously for Buffy to continue. "But you've gone through a similar, you know, experience, so I thought maybe you'd...give me some pointers? Or some sanity? I'd settle for helpful hints."

There was desperation in the request.

"Yes, of course." The wicca's tone was sympathetic, but relieved. She expected worse. "I'm n-not an expert, but...is this about Dawn?" She picked out another card, and set it down on the mattress.

"Are they...?" The slayer pointed to the spread.

"Huh?" Tara caught on. "Oh no. I just guessed." She smiled. "This is for me."

"You read yourself?"

"Every day. It helps me communicate with my spirit guide. I can do it without the cards, but not as clearly." She anticipated the follow up question. "I don't need these to read for you. You have hundreds of guides, which makes it...easy to con-connect. Most people only have one a lifetime."

"It's the other slayers, right?"

Nodding, "They're a really strong part of your aura."

"Is trading them in an option?" Buffy asked, bitterly. They'd been *excellent* in the guiding department lately. "What do you see?" It'd save her the trouble of speaking words that her vocal chords didn't want to voice.

Tara stopped concentrating on the cards, and focused on Buffy. What she would find was beyond the messages the pictures could convey, especially because her fellow blonde was a slayer. There was no trick to legitimately looking at someone's aura; having a talent for magick made it less work, but it was like tuning into a radio frequency. Then listening became vital.

The last time she saw Buffy's aura, it was fragmented. Faith had stolen her body, and parts ended up where they didn't belong. This time...this time the witch let out a shocked gasp. She'd seen fragments before, but never this. Suddenly she knew what had happened between the sisters.

Buffy knew that she knew, got up, and paced. Though Tara realized something she didn't. "Go ahead. Judge away." She permitted.

"Why?"

"Because you should! I should be judged, convicted, and then the key..." She trailed off, biting her lip. "Damn it."

"I've been j-judged my whole life, Buffy. Just b-because. I won't ever be like that." Tara said that final sentence with conviction. "Do you think it was wrong?"

"No, that's the problem! She's my sister! You're not supposed to do *that* with your sister, and be okay with it!"

"You don't sound o-okay."

"I'm not. It's just...what am I to her now? Am I her sister or her mother? Or am I that third thing?" The slayer exhaustedly ran a hand through her hair. "Now we'll have to live in a trailer." She smirked, bitterly. "This'll only confuse her more."

Gently, "She has a mother already."

"Had." Her friend corrected her, softly.

"It's only the-the body that dies; life just changes." Tara paused. "She's not just your sister, either."

"I know that. She's ancient, mystical energy. Still doesn't make it right. Dawn's human *now*, and she's a part of me."

"And you're a part of her. Do you know what that means?"

"Blood...she's got my blood." There was no response, so Buffy ceased pacing and stared. "What?"

"N-nothing." Tara wasn't meant to fill in the gaps. "'Sister,' 'mother'...they're words, that's all. Just be who you are--Dawn accepts that, and I don't...think she's confused."

"Yay for her, but I gotta be the adult." The more petite blonde reminded herself of that. "You can't be encouraging what I think you're encouraging." She couldn't say the word. "Would you...with your brother?"

"Um, well, I'm gay."

"You know what I mean." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "You're my friend; you're supposed to be knocking some sense into me."

"I...no, I wouldn't." The shyer of the two, admitted. Hazel eyes had a triumphant gleam, but the smile didn't come. "You and Dawn are different. If it felt bad, I'd tell you. Cause I am your friend. But I never said anything a-about sex; she's too young."

"First it's kissing, then...these things spiral quickly." Sigh. "When did she start liking girls in the first place?"

Tara had no reason to look guilty, but did. "We make sure we're pretty pla-platonic when she's over here."

"I don't blame you guys," The slayer assured her, "I just wish I knew what I was doing. One time, an explanation would be nice."

"Dawn loves you, and you love her. A little more than...normally, which is, um, kinda the point." It was being boiled down.

"It's not that simple, Tara. There'd be consequences, questions...I don't even get why I liked it. Assuming there isn't that pesky interruption called a 'jail sentence,' how long would it last? A month? Just until she starts dating...?"

"I don't know."

Buffy hadn't heard her. "And when's that? In a year?" She planned on harming any boy that came to the door. "Well, there were fourteen of those before this with no--"

"They never happened." That shut up the counterargument. "You're right, it's not simple, but it's the most important thing." The witch tried to reinforce that.

"So how come I...?"

"Think."

The visitor collapsed back onto the bed. "I have. Lots. If she's making you speak for her again, I'm gonna be pissed." Tara remained quiet. The First Slayer was only one guide. "Fine, I'll recap. I feel closer to her than I ever have; I love her. She's my sister, but sorta more than that, because she was created from my blood. Oh, and let's not forget the fake memories."

"They were put there...for a reason. The bond you have? It's..." No. Tara couldn't overstep her role here. Reaching, she put her hand overtop Buffy's in a gesture of comfort. "You shouldn't worry. Talk to her; she needs you. She's lost too, but she might be able to help--find out together."

"I don't know if I can look her in the eye." Buffy said, clearly distraught. "It was so right. There was this...force, or something. Kissing her made me happier than I've..." She sighed again, painfully. "I haven't been happy, really happy, in a long time."

"You're not taking advantage of her; maybe you shouldn't fight it." Big hint.

That was the ideal road to choose, but Buffy had become too rational for her own good, and enjoying smooching her sister wasn't rational. She would just have to work around it, which meant avoid it. Tara didn't have to be a witch to see that, and it was a sad thought. Dawn was connected to her in a way that was extremely rare--her life depended on the young brunette.

Frowning, she could only hope that Buffy would change her mind for Dawn's sake at least, and then perhaps acceptance would follow. The conversation was at a lull, as there was plenty to digest, so she studied her cards again. After several mental double checks, she knew what she saw wasn't a mistake.

The frown didn't leave.

***

"Okay, so, I-I think the next step is to make a chart. A schedule." I gotta glare. "I'll write down all the things you're supposed to do, and when you have to do them, and then I'll leave a box next to it, which you can mark with an X when you've accomplished the task."

Overcompensate much? We're in the dining room. I'm sitting at the table doing homework, and Buffy's standing on the other side folding towels. I'm like, under surveillance now. I mean, I know I skipped school a couple times, but she's being such a biotch. And she quit college. What a, uh, hypocrite. Yeah. That's what she is. She's acting this way because of what we did.

She spazzed quietly, and she's trying to make things normal again by ordering me around. The mom/sister line is blurry. That's overcompensating. Told ya.

My principal just gave her a semi-good reason to be like this; it'll hold up if anybody questions her, but not for long. Willow even defended me, and they never fight. If we talked about it...but she won't. She'll ignore it instead. The very idea that she would talk about anything remotely personal is ludicrous! That's Giles-speak. You have to make her cry to get her to open up, and I don't wanna see her cry, so I guess we'll just be angry at each other till one of us is dead.

I didn't wanna disappoint her, but if there's one, pointless thing in my life, it's school. There're bigger problems. I haven't stopped glaring, by the way.

"What? You want gold stars?" She rolls her eyes at me. Stars? Who said anything about stars? "Okay. You can have gold stars."

I can do this. If she wants routine, I'll do routine. The "annoying, authority-bashing little sister" one oughta be perfect. Even now I feel it, though. She's got to.

"I don't want gold stars." I say, pissed off. "I don't want any of this."

I put my pencil down and cross my arms over my chest. How's she like that?

"I'm just trying to give you a normal life." She says back, and stops folding.

"Well, good luck." I hope that was sarcastic enough. I look at my textbook, and keep doing the dumb math. She's staring at me, isn't she? "What?" I stare at her, too. Ha. I get to roll *my* eyes. "What am I doing wrong now?"

"This is for real, Dawn." She means it.

"No, it's not. I'm not real, so why would my exciting graph of chores be real? Who cares if a key gets an education anyway?"

And I mean that. I shut the book hard just to prove it, and cross my arms again.

"It's a chart. Not a graph. And you are real."

"Yeah? Those monks put grades K through Eight in my head. Can't we just wait and see if they drop nine in there, too?"

Use the "Key" card. Yeah, that'll show...she slams her hand on the table. I don't like wincing.

"Damn it, Dawn. This is serious." She raised her voice a little there.

All right, it backfired, but I'm not fazed.

"Why? Why should I care about any of this?" I demand, and I do want to know.

"Because they'll take you away!"

That was like, real close to a yell...what did she say?

"Take me away? What do you mean?"

Her voice is softer. "They'll take you away from me. That's what your principal told me when you weren't in the room. If I can't make you go to school, then I won't be found fit to be your legal guardian." Oh...oh.

She's folding again.

"Where would I go?" Who would take me?

"I don't know. Dad, maybe...or foster care...I-I didn't really want to ask."

Dad? No, not him. And why am I always the jerk? She was just...no, you know, forget "just," d-damn it. I'm not letting her off the hook this time. This has nothing to do with Mom, this is me and her. She can't cut me out anymore. If she told me in the beginning, we wouldn't be fighting. Or arguing. Or whatever we're doing.

"You could've told me that." I'm mad, so I point that out.

"I just did."

Better late than never, huh, Buffy? Is it okay with you if I get upset? Cause sorry, but I'm gonna break the rules, and it's your fault. "You liked it...didn't you?"

Hold on...I didn't say that other stuff out loud? Awwww! Well, I know what's going on now, and I'll be the attentive student. Leaving her isn't something I wanna do. But we gotta discuss the rest, cause we might not get a chance later, and her crying is a risk I have to be willing to take. The kissing affected me too, ya know. It's not just happening to her.

She's done folding, and she picks up the towels, her eyes on me. She knows what I mean.

"I don't wanna--"

"I don't care." I'm firm. "Sit down, Buffy."

Did that really come out of my mouth? She can't believe it; neither can I. She's putting the towels back down, though, and pulling out the chair next to her. She's...oh my God, she actually...whoa. Cool. She's sitting, and we're staring at each other across the table.

Maybe I should see if I can hear a pin drop. We definitely weren't one of those families that talked about their day at dinnertime. Mom did the talking; we listened. Which is probably why we stink at this.

"It's not the easiest thing in the world to have a conversation about, is it, Dawn?" She asks me. "You don't even know where to start."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't try." I shoot back. "What's your big solution? Pretend it never happened and hope it goes away?" This isn't about winning the "Who can sound more right?" contest. This is too important for that. "The Slayer wants to hide?"

It takes her a second. "Things are already complicated. For both of us. I just don't want to add to the pile."

"It's *been* added. It's there. So we can make it not a problem and lighten the pile, or we can drop it and not deal. It could all magically work out." She frowns. "Ooh, I have an idea! We can schedule it on the chart, and maybe when the time comes I'll know exactly what to say." I narrow my eyes.

"What is it with you and the chart? It'll be for chores, and that's it."

"Talking to you *is* a chore!" I scream. That helped a lot.

She looks ready to get up. "I'm sorry this isn't a breezy discussion. If you want, I can go. Look at the bright side, at least it's one less thing you have to do."

This isn't going well. "See? You're making it sound like I'm being allowed to have the privilege of speaking to 'The Great Buffy Summers.' Like I should be grateful that my own sister is taking time out to talk to me. Why do you wanna save me from Glory? So you don't have to live with the guilt if she kills me?"

Um...that came from...I dunno where. It's like one of those things you don't know you think until you say it. Did that make sense? I can't figure Buffy out. One minute she tells me she loves me; the next minute she turns into some army colonel with no emotions whatsoever. How am I supposed to feel? Why's she protecting me?

She's pissed, and she's hurt, I can tell. "That's not fair, Dawn. You know I love you."

"I thought I did." Am I crying?

Buffy's supposed to, I'm not. I wipe my tears on my sleeve.

"Love and I haven't been meshing well. It's hard to..." She trails off, thinking. "I went to the desert to figure out why I can't just say it or show it like a regular person. I don't mean to go all 'Jeckyll and Hyde' on you, but that on top of trying to be a grownup...it's difficult."

I sniffle. Another thing she didn't tell me. "Did it help you? The quest?"

"Nope, really didn't. I'm so confused when it comes to love. Even the friend kind. I was your age when I met Xander and Willow. Five years doesn't seem like forever, but we've changed a lot since high school, and I feel so far away from them now." I just listen. I did want her to talk to me. "But you I feel the closest to. We almost crossed the border into making out territory; two more seconds and we could've been illegal aliens, instead of just plain illegal."

Guess that means I wasn't bad. And that she doesn't think I'm ugly or anything.

"Buf--" I'm interrupted.

"That's how screwed up love and I are, so cut me some slack, okay? I'm pretty freaked out." I smile. "What?"

Then I shake my head. "We're just uh, finally on topic." She doesn't see the humor. "You don't think I was?"

"Was? As in past tense?"

"I could die in a few weeks, Janice can't come over to finish our project for Art, and I have a History test tomorrow. I liked kissing you; I'm not sure why, but there's bigger things being a pain in the butt." It's true.

"Don't say that."

"Which part?"

She's glaring, then sighing. "There's something wrong with me."

"Then there's something wrong with me, too. I started it, Buffy. It wasn't a solo thing. Anyway, I'm used to being abnormal. I *am* powerful, energy girl, don't forget. And all the toes on my right foot are the same size."

"They are not!"

She's laughing. Hysterically. Buffy's laughing. The last time she laughed this hard was when Xander told her Harmony came here with a gang.

Before she found out that I invited her in.

"Is that why you made Mom buy you pool shoes for the shower? Have you looked at your feet at all?"

"I...try not to." I'm embarrassed.

And there she goes again. I made her cry happily instead of sadly. Go me. It's nice hearing it, but...I was serious. I have no big toe or pinky. Sigh. I bet you're laughing at me, too.

"So the kiss...you liked it?" Getting back to my original question.

She nods, and grabs a towel to wipe her eyes.

I can't see her face. "Better than Angel? Better than Riley?"

"I-I don't know." That's her answer?

"Liar." She kissed them enough times to compare.

"It was...nice." She whispers, lowering the towel, but still gripping it. "What do you want me to say, Dawn? I can't describe it."

"Did it feel...*right* to you? Like the really good kind?"

She nods again. "It shouldn't have."

"But it did?"

"Just because something feels right and good doesn't mean you should do it. Sleeping with Angel felt that way at the time, and..." She realizes what she's saying, and covers her face again with the towel. "Shoot me."

"What're you afraid of?"

She sighs. "That if we see where this goes, it'll go farther than we were ready for--"

"L-like...s-sex?" I stammer as my eyes widen. I hadn't thought of having sex...with anyone.

"That's what kissing generally leads to."

"No, getting naked leads to sex. I'm surprised you don't know that."

"Dawn!" She exclaims.

"What? I learned it in Health class." I smirk.

"If that's what they're teaching, then maybe you really shouldn't go." She pauses. "I'm scared that we'll get too involved in whatever we feel, then eventually we'll wish we could take it back because our lives go in different directions, and it'll be awkward, and things'll be said...mean things. I'm more abnormal than you; I can take it, but I don't want you to have to. Plus, illegal, remember?"

O...kay. "You think too much."

"Been hearing that lately. There's things to consider, though." Was that a whine?

"I know..." Agree with her and she'll relax. "But how about you kick Glory's ass, first?"

"I may not be able to." She admits.

We could all die. I definitely will, and that's exactly the point.

"Then don't you think we should enjoy...you know, something happy, while we can?" I ask. "Everyone's getting hurt cause of me, even Spike, you just dropped out...and you were like, becoming a Willow-clone. Now you're sad all the time. Because of me. I dunno who's next; I wish it would stop. I hate that I'm like this plague now."

"Dawnie--" Buffy's getting up, the towel still in her hand.

I know what's coming. The "not your fault" speech, but I wanna finish.

"Riley left you...he was a dork, but it hurt you, so I got upset. Then Mom left us..." Crying. Again. "And I'm tired of these. When we kissed, when I'm just near you, it's the one great thing in all the horrible stuff, and it's weird, but you're the one who said weird love was better than zip, not me."

"Yep. I did." At least she can give me that.

"Who cares where it'll go, or about other people? Can't we just--?"

She's by my chair now. "Come 'ere." I stand, and use all my strength to give her the best bear hug I can, shutting my eyes tightly. She wraps her arms around my back. "I love you. No matter what, I promise."

"I love you too, Buffy."

I let her go, and she dries my face gently with, you guessed it, the towel. It's not gonna dry dishes ever again.

"I'm glad I have a sister. I'm glad *you're* my sister." She says, quietly.

She's still uncomfortable. This is Buffy--she doesn't rush. Anymore. But she talked. We talked, and we're not hiding anything. I'm not the only weirdo, so we'll do it...when she's ready to jump in, too. Together. I kiss her on the cheek and grab her hand as I sit back in the chair.

"Wanna help me with my homework?"

***

Comedies. Comedies were a good choice.

It's the next night after our huge talk. We're on the living room couch in the middle of a movie-fest. Our goal is to try to avoid being depressed for a few hours.

"You wanna go see Tara in the morning?" Buffy asks me.

I nod. Glory got her. Sucked her brain, and Willow went to get payback. She could've been killed, but I know why she had to do it. She loves her so much. Like Spike and I told Buffy, he would've attacked Glory (he didn't say for who, but duh), and she would've attacked her if I got hurt.

Tara's empty cause Glory thought she was the Key. It won't stop, and I know this is gonna be the last calm before the storm or whatever. Tomorrow I'll help Willow with anything, but tonight, we'll laugh at Wayne's World and Austin Powers, eat ice-cream, and be two, normal girls. We need this.

"What's 'Ribbed for her pleasure' mean?" I ask. Garth found a box of condoms in a drawer in the TV guy's bedroom. Buffy pales and I giggle. "I'm kidding!"

"Watching this was a bad idea." When did she turn fifty?

"The movie's PG-13. I'm a year and seven months ahead of the system. I know what condoms are."

"Remember, they're for protection...just in case you--" I smack her with a pillow. We're supposed to be having fun. "Yo!"

"You're being an old lady, I had to do something." I state, matter-of-factly.

"Take that back!" She commands.

"Make me." I dare her.

It's bad news when her eyes go glint-y. "You are *so* dead."

She puts the carton she had in her lap on the table, and I take off running. All over the house. We're laughing the whole time, but I'm doing it more, so it slows me down. She has me cornered a couple times. I barely escape; I have to threaten Mr. Gordo's nose. She's so gullible. We end up back where we started, she drags me to the floor, and the tickling commences, while we roll around.

I can't take much. "I give! I give! You're not old!"

"You mean it?" She stops, looking down at me.

"Uh huh. You're only middle-aged." But I don't admit defeat *that* easily.

She gasps. "You brat!"

"If I let you call me a kid, can it be a draw?" I'm hopeful.

Shakes her head. What's she want? "You're not a kid. You're very mature."

"First I'm a brat, now I'm mature? Make up your mind."

"Even mature people can be brats sometimes." She jokes.

"Ha ha." She's the funniest person on the planet. Not.

"And you got my best genes, you know that? Soon you'll be prettier than me." She grins.

I think that's a compliment. Isn't it? Hey! She's saying she's prettier than me now! I know she is; she can't brag, though! I'm gonna say something, but she's touching the side of my face. Hello, mood change. I feel her breath on my skin, and I can see her trying to make a decision...then she's doing the kissing.

Think we jumped.

She must be ready. Maybe like me, she knows how hazy after now is. The two times before weren't flukes for sure. I kiss back, and it's like we're not separate people. All I feel is...wow, a little warm...and-and her tongue. Also, mostly happiness. She tenses. It wasn't planned, obviously. Just kinda happened.

Buffy's giving me my first, French kiss. Bizarre. Except that's our lives anyway. We're sisters, but to me, that only means we have a bond most people don't. I know I wouldn't make out with my aunt. Ugh. Yeah, okay, other sisters probably don't do this; there's just something between me and Buffy. I can't explain it, and right now, I don't hafta--I'm happy.

Our second, mutual kiss is over, and I start catching my breath. Her forehead's wrinkly. "K, that was...sorry." She gets off me.

I just sit up and pat the rug beside me. She obeys. Once she's comfortable, I lean against her, then she puts her arm around my waist, and as we finish the movie, I remember we can't be two, normal girls. There's all different kinds of love, and we fall into the "Abnormally Weird" category...so?

FIN