Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Is your email address still valid?

Roar a Giant Roar

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

This story is No. 1 in the series "Not Lost, Just Turned Around". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: While throwing around the 'W' word, Giant!Dawn 'goes away'. The bigger problem is she left her clothes behind. Set season 8.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anita Blake > Dawn-CenteredVampireCowFR13711,60156519,7951 Feb 1117 Mar 11Yes

Typical Tuesday

Disclaimer- J. Whedon owns Buffy and all associated with her. L. Hamilton made Anita Blake and Co. I have neither... story takes place at the beginning of Season 8 Buffy, anytime after Narcissus in Chains for Anita Blake.

Dawn scrubbed at her arm with a handful of sand from the bottom of the pond. Even if the movies made it seem glamorous and romantic, skinny-dipping with a male hidden just out of reach didn't lift her spirits the least bit. Considering that the only clothing she had that fit was just as dirty as it was before she jumped in the pond it was a wonder she didn't throw a girly tantrum of epic proportions then and there. Being big and strong was highly over-rated.

"That's overstating it, don't you think?" Xander's voice came from behind a hedge and she scrubbed harder.

"I'm a giant. Everything I state is over."

"She doesn't hate you." He insisted, and it was sweet. Xander would always be Xander, supportive and strong with a will to match any Slayer's, and it was no wonder she still harbored a tiny crush on him. Still, even if he was the one-who-sees, sometimes he saw through Buffy-colored glasses. Or monocle as the case may be.

"She does. She hates me."

"I say thee nay!"

Dawn smiled involuntarily and brought her legs back into the water, hugging them close. "Fine. Nay. Buffy doesn't hate me." The smile melted off as she thought about the castle everyone had holed up in. Everyone. A hundred plus slayers demanding attention and training. Strong. Special. "She just wishes I'd go away." Dawn wanted to say more, for a second wanted to confess just what she was feeling to someone who would listen, but an uncomfortable ache had started in her stomach.

"She wishes you were at... Dawn? Dawn!" Xander stood up at the sound of water rushing in to fill the space and reached for the radio at his hip. "Get me some Mystics at Dawn's Fount, our giant's gone missing."

Later, Xander would wonder just why anyone would kidnap a giant. Judging from the articles of clothing still spread across the tree-tops, Dawn was not going to be happy with whoever did it.

The feeling in her stomach worsened and she bent double, gasping as she felt herself get picked up and squeezed through a too-small tube of toothpaste where she was the toothpaste. Everything was green and bright with streaks and red, and though she couldn't make much out yet, she heard someone laughing manically. Probably the random bag guy kidnapping her. It was Tuesday, after all, but she rather thought the whole 'Giant Dawn, Can-Crush-Puny-Demons-Under-Foot' thing would have put them off.

"You are too late, Necromancer! Your own actions have doomed you! My blood, willingly shed, calls the Key! The opener of the Ways!" More desperate insane laughter ended the statement and Dawn clearly heard the sound of a fist hitting a face before it cut off. At least this seemed a 'Key' thing rather than a 'the Slayer's little sister' thing. She didn't know if that was on the bright side or not.

The world suddenly came into focus and she found herself sitting on her butt in the middle of a forest clearing. "Oh, my GOD! Jerk-faces!" Dawn screamed as felt branches poking her sides and desperately tried to hide her breasts from the huge audience. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, summoning people when they're in the bath?!"

Looking down Dawn mentally raised her hands in supplication. She was still a giant, which sucked, but even worse was the crowd of people scattered around what was obviously a small battle field. On the bright side, she didn't think her appearance crushed anyone accidentally, but there was still a lot of people. Looking at her. Looking at her while she was damp and in her birthday suit. She frowned. "Avert thine eyes, perverts, lest I decide to make it a moot point!" She spared one hand to rip a tree out of the ground and shake threateningly.

Several of the man-beasts wisely backed off, and some of the pale people just seemed confused. Hell, Dawn herself was confused. She scooted backward on her butt and hoped everything important was covered. She could smell blood heavy in the air and something squished as she tried to give herself room. Dawn swallowed back a little throw-up as she tried to figure out what was going on, and which side she was supposed to be on. It didn't help that her boobs kept wanting to escape her arms.

"You are the Key of the Worlds? The supreme matrix left by God to keep separate the real and the immaterial?" Someone who had been shot, repeatedly, said from where he was pinned half inside a ritual circle. Squinting at it, Dawn could guess that it had been meant to hold her, but in her current body she was a mite bit big for the thing. So she appeared outside of it. No wonder her limbs felt like they had just gotten off the taffy puller.

"Yeah. So?"

The man seemed to regain his crazy-born confidence. "Take her! Anita Blake, Necromancer! Consort to the dead! Mistress of monsters! Abomination! Take her into Death and to her Eternal Punishment!"

Dawn glanced in the direction the mad man was squirming and saw a woman of about average height in heels and leather point a gun at her. Considering just how much of Dawn there was, she probably wouldn't miss. The presumed necromancer's eyes were wide, pupils blown, but there was a dark resignation in those depths. "Why?"

The man sputtered. "Why?! I just told you why! She is a Necromancer! That alone dooms her soul, and she sleeps with the undead, not to mention the army of the cursed she commands!"

Dawn chewed her bottom lip and peered at the the surrounding monsters in various states of being. She thought she could spot a cat or two mixed among the puppies. "Cursed? Like, werewolves?"

"Oui, ma grande." One of the pale people, and he was quite pretty in the leather and lace Dawn thought, seemed to have recovered somewhat. Luckily, Dawn knew French... and he had better not be mocking her, or she was going to get mad.

"Oh. I got no problem with that. When I was little, one of my babysitters was a werewolf, and the other was vampire, and I can't really get mad at her for raising the dead. I tried to do that with my mom after she died but..." Dawn shrugged and gestured with the tree. "...what's dead should stay dead, or undead, or you know...?"

Her response was not what the cultist expected and made him rather upset. He squirmed and snarled out, "Idiot! Imbecilic child! You cannot be the Key! I must have done something-"

Dawn growled, batting the shifters to the side, and gave up her tree-mallet so she could pick up her summoner. "Listen, meat-sack. I am not stupid. I am not a child. I am the KEY given form. Maybe I used to be a big green glowing blob of energy for you to summon up whenever you wanted to smite some baddies, but I got a little something called freewill now, and you know what I feel like doing with it?" She focused like Willow had taught her and called up her inner-power. The hand around Mr. Crazy glowed a light green and he screamed. "My name is Dawn. Consider it brought."

It was very tempting to squeeze until his head popped off. She resisted, with difficultly, and dropped him unconscious to the floor with a sigh.

She looked around the field/forest at the gathered people. Some appeared frightened out of their minds and few seemed to have fainted. Dawn felt a headache coming on. She looked at Mr. Fancy Pants who was doing an excellent impression of a block of wood, "You wouldn't happen to know how to send me home, would you?"

"At the moment, non."

"Damn... what about summoning my clothes? It's a bit drafty up here... and Lady? You keep pointing those pea-shooters at me and I'll go fe-fi-fo-fum on your ass. Fuck. No one back home uses guns. It's all blades, bows, and plastic explosives...."

To Be Continued....?

Jean-Claude's Translations:
Oui, ma grande. - Yes, my large. (As opposed to Anita's 'my little')
Non. - No.

A/N- So, I decided since I have a distinct lack of Dawn in my fics, she deserved a little something. Also, I finally got around to reading the Comic Book continuation of Buffy and the scene in the pond had me w-wording Halfrek was still around. Might make this a mini-series: The Adventures of Giant!Dawn through the multi-verse!
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking