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To Exist [BtVS/AtS; Dawn & Connor; PG]
Sep. 6th, 2010 02:41 pmTitle: To Exist
Character(s): Dawn, Connor
Rating: PG
Word Count: 240
Prompt: After Hours
Written the daily theme of “Movie Titles” on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic.
----
They weren’t supposed to exist, neither of them. So of course that meant that they went out of their way to live. It became a game, to see which one of them could sneak out first. Sometimes it was Dawn, using every skill she had learned from her Slayer sister, to make it past the inevitable guard (“receptionist” - as if) at the front desk. Sometimes it was Connor, although he denied ever cheating.
Then they would run to the darkest, skivviest clubs in LA and stand in line just like any other normal couple. Well, any other normal couple who knew which things that went bump in the night to be afraid of and which could safely be ignored.
And once they got in, they danced, the Girl Who Didn’t Exist and the Boy Who Shouldn’t Exist, Dawn in her too-short skirt and too-tight top, long hair hanging heavily down to her waist, and Connor, betraying his parentage in his black leather pants and black shirt with the first three buttons undone.
They danced to verify their existence, every movement, every thrust a challenge to a universe that said they shouldn’t exist. In the comfort of the dark, home to both of them, they danced and loved and danced some more, knowing that when daylight came, they would each go back to their curious half-life, existing but not. And each of them hoped that someday they would simply be.
Character(s): Dawn, Connor
Rating: PG
Word Count: 240
Prompt: After Hours
Written the daily theme of “Movie Titles” on
comment_fic.----
They weren’t supposed to exist, neither of them. So of course that meant that they went out of their way to live. It became a game, to see which one of them could sneak out first. Sometimes it was Dawn, using every skill she had learned from her Slayer sister, to make it past the inevitable guard (“receptionist” - as if) at the front desk. Sometimes it was Connor, although he denied ever cheating.
Then they would run to the darkest, skivviest clubs in LA and stand in line just like any other normal couple. Well, any other normal couple who knew which things that went bump in the night to be afraid of and which could safely be ignored.
And once they got in, they danced, the Girl Who Didn’t Exist and the Boy Who Shouldn’t Exist, Dawn in her too-short skirt and too-tight top, long hair hanging heavily down to her waist, and Connor, betraying his parentage in his black leather pants and black shirt with the first three buttons undone.
They danced to verify their existence, every movement, every thrust a challenge to a universe that said they shouldn’t exist. In the comfort of the dark, home to both of them, they danced and loved and danced some more, knowing that when daylight came, they would each go back to their curious half-life, existing but not. And each of them hoped that someday they would simply be.