Current mood:

accomplished

femslashficathon!
So I was blocked on this project for a very long time, but today, it finally came together. Just in time for me to present doyle_sb4 with her femslash! Hooray!

The May Queen
PAIRING: Tara/Dawn
REQUIREMENTS: Tara/Dawn, schmoop, Dawn must be sixteen.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This takes place in an AU after "The Gift". Assume that Buffy was never brought back to life. :) Also, this fic is longer than 1,000 words -- I couldn't help it. I so sorry.
FOR: doyle_sb4 -- Hope you like it, sweetie! :)
RATING: PG-13

The sun shines down brightly from the robin's egg blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. That good kind of warm that you can only really appreciate after a long, cold winter. All the flowers are starting to wake up, blossoming into radiant color all around the park.

It's a beautiful day for a wedding.

Anya's head is tipped back with wild, unrestrained laughter, her veil a filmy halo around her face while Xander twirls her around on the dance floor. She's been laughing all day. Glowing gold and radiant in her white dress, so beautiful that her new husband can't seem to stop kissing her.

It's infectious, that kind of joy. Older couples have their hands all over each other, suddenly reminded of what it felt like to be that young and passionate. Even Xander's parents have eschewed arguments for dancing and laughing with each other. Everyone has caught it.

Well, everyone except Dawn.

The girl is sitting on a stone bench away from the festivities, her gangly legs stretched out gracelessly in front of her in a pool of pink organdy fabric. She's got a sour, sulky look on her face, and her wreath of pink rosebuds and baby's breath is crooked on her mussed brown hair. One hand holds a cigarette; the other, a half-empty bottle of champagne.

It doesn't take Tara long to realize that she's drunk.

Quietly, Tara moves along the other side of the hedges, trying not to be seen. Not just yet. She's had her eye on Dawn all day today. She's been too sullen recently. Stays out too late at night and comes home smelling like ashes. Willow says she's just been hanging out with Spike recently. It's less than comforting.

There's a tired, pinched look on Dawn's face as she takes a practiced drag from her cigarette and kicks off her pink slippers. She winces and fumbles, kicking the shoes away from her with a humorless giggle.

"You know," Tara calls softly, "you've got a good idea with the shoes. My feet are killing me."

Dawn doesn't turn her head to look at her, even when Tara sits down beside her on the stone bench and kicks off her own heels. She sighs, instantly relaxing. "Oh, that feels good," she murmurs. Gives Dawn a little, joking look. "I think I'm all danced out. You?"

A sulky teenaged shrug. "Haven't been dancing."

"I've noticed."

Dawn was just a bright ghost in pink at the reception. Occasionally, you'd get a glance of her standing at the punch bowl or scowling at the choice of music. She had a particularly pained look on her face when Anya started telling her plans for their honeymoon. Tara assumed that was because the blushing bride was far too excited about her brand new lingerie.

But she didn't dance. Didn't laugh. Didn't toast to the happy couple. When Xander gave his speech to the bride before their first dance, the only dry eye in the crowd belonged to Dawn.

She picks up her bottle of champagne again. Moves to take another swig, then casts a suspicious look in Tara's direction. "You gonna lecture me about the underaged drinking?" she asks.

Tara shakes her head. "No. I'll just let the champagne do that in the morning when you're all headache-y and puking."

Dawn snorts. It's the closest thing to a laugh Tara's heard in days. "Right. Mom-logic. Good one."

She takes another sip. Tilts her head back, her long, pale throat working as she drinks. Dainty little nose. Flawless, creamy skin. When she's happy, she glows.

A little smile tugs at Tara's mouth. "You're getting beautiful, you know."

Dawn laughs bitterly. "Yeah, right. Still not getting any dates. The boys at our school don't even notice me." She lowers her voice. "Face it. I'm invisible."

Ah. So that's it, then.

Tara remembers sixteen. Remembers how awkward and awful it was. The anxiety over a body that doesn't even feel like your own. The sudden feelings and desires. And she remembers the way it felt to suddenly want something and not know if it wanted you in return.

Funny, how it still feels that way sometimes.

Gently, Tara reaches over and takes the bottle of champagne from Dawn's hand. The girl gives her a dry look when Tara takes a swig herself. She gives a little smile at her. "You're not invisible, you know."

Dawn snorts, takes another drag of her cigarette. "Yeah, right. No one talks to me at school. No one notices me. It's like, all these pretty girls are just walking around with boyfriends or whatever, and I just get left out in the dirt."

"And seeing Anya and Xander so happy just makes it all worse," Tara says softly.

She's struck a nerve. Dawn tenses, shifts uncomfortably on the bench beside her. "Oh, come on. What do you know about it?" she shoots back. "At least you've got Willow."

Tara looks away. "Sometimes."

Not all the time. Just in fits and spurts. It's been like that ever since the failed attempt to bring back Buffy. Like she's falling away somehow. Drowning in some terrible kind of guilt and grief. She spends too much time with the books. Tries to do too much magic, like she's not sure if she's good enough anymore.

Today was the first time they kissed in three days.

A soft, white hand moves over hers. Dawn has the most delicate fingers. Her sister's hands, strong in spite of their appearance. Her skin's softer than silk. When Tara turns her head to look at the girl, Dawn's eyes are warm and sympathetic. Like maple syrup and honey.

"At least she loves you," she says.

Her voice is desperate with need. It's an ache Tara can feel through her skin, like a long, sad cello note. Tara moves her hand over Dawn's. "Someone's going to love you, Dawn," she says softly.

"Are they?" she asks. "I just don't know, Tara. It's like ... I'm not even real to start out with. How could someone ever love a girl who's never been anything at all?"

Oh, but she's wrong. So very wrong.

Dawn's been changing recently. Just in subtle ways. Ways that the others don't notice. But Tara sees. She always sees. There's a glow to the girl's skin, milky and pure. Sees the secret, soft smiles that no one else catches. And here in the daylight, Dawn is just luminous, even in the bright pink bridesmaid dress that no one else looks good in.

But Dawn ... well, she's just beautiful.

Tentatively, Tara reaches out her hand. Trails her fingers down the slope of Dawn's sweet cheek, just barely dusted with summer freckles. Little lost tendrils of chestnut are falling in her brown sugar eyes. "You're wrong," she murmurs. "I see you."

She can feel her heartbeat. Can feel that warmth, that sweetness of spring unfurling under Dawn's young skin. She's so beautiful, God, and she smells like flowers and June. "You do?" she asks softly.

Tara just smiles, her hand still cupping Dawn's face. "Oh, yes. And Dawnie, you're-"

But before she can say the word "beautiful", Dawn throws her cigarette to the grass and kisses her.

Startling. Shocking. But oh-so-good that she forgets. It's like tasting plum wine, something sweet and powerful, for the very first time. The kiss is soft, barely even a kiss to start with, just a brush of the girl's lips against her own. Her heartbeat flutters, and Tara can't help but sigh.

It throws Dawn; she pulls away. Eyes wide. Lips parted. She's breathing heavy. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I just ... I just wanted to-"

Tara doesn't know why she kisses her, but she does. It's as though something has suddenly started inside of her, drawn like a moth to Dawn's candle-flame, and she has to have more.

Kisses her again, her fingers curling under the girl's jaw as she tips her head back and opens her mouth. Just a brush of her tongue across Dawn's. The girl whimpers and responds, kissing her back with equal intensity. Tara can't help it; her hand drops to Dawn's ripe, young breast-

"Hey, you guys!"

Immediately, the two of them break the kiss, jumping to opposite sides of the bench while Willow runs down the field, her bright red hair swinging around her pretty face. Tara can't stop her heart from beating; oh, God, she just kissed Dawn ...

But Willow didn't see. Couldn't have; she's still smiling. "I've been looking all over the place for you two," she says. "Come on - Anya's about to throw the bouquet."

Tara gives her a nervous smile. "We'll be right there."

As Willow turns to head back to the party, Tara gives a glance to Dawn. The girl's got a breathless, wide-eyed look on her face. "Tara ..."

She shakes her head. Gets all nervous. Her hands are shaking. "We'll ... we'll talk about later. The ... the party. The bouquet."

"Right," Dawn says softly. "The bouquet."

Reluctantly, Tara stands up and looks down at her. Her heart does a little back-flip at the sight of her. "God, you're beautiful," she whispers, and then before Dawn can say anything else, she has to go away.

Everyone's gathered out near Xander's black Honda. Laughing, talking, still high-spirited and happy. Everyone's so happy. Willow is laughing with Xander, and Tara feels a sharp pang of guilt at the sight of her. And the worst part is, it's not entirely because she kissed Dawn.

It's because in that one kiss, she felt more than she's felt with Willow in months.

"Here she comes!"

The crowd starts clapping and cheering as Anya walks out towards the car, dressed in a white lace dress, her hair still fixed to her bright hair. She's as pink as the roses she carries in her hand, and when she kisses Xander, he goes pink, too.

On the outskirts of the crowd, there's Dawn. Moving in towards everyone else, smiling for the first time all day. Her wreath's not crooked anymore, and as she walks, she sheds blush-colored petals and sprigs of white baby's breath. She's breathtaking.

Anya turns around, and instantly, all the bridesmaids and women gather around to try and catch the bouquet and win a shot at happily-ever-after. Scores of girls in pink dresses, and Dawn's in the middle. She's got a grin on her face, and Tara can hear her laughter float above the rest of the crowd.

Anya throws the bouquet, and it flies through the air in an arc of bright pink, and falls into Dawn's open hands. Instantly, the girl laughs and clutches the flowers tightly in her fingers, and Tara can't help but laugh with her.

When Dawn meets her eyes across the field and smiles, it's absolutely impossible for Tara to look away.