Characters: Kendra, Buffy.
Word Count: 675
Spoilers: What’s My Line Part 2.
Summary: Kendra has learned a lot from Buffy and is heading home with more than she had when she arrived.
Written For: Challenge 328: Favorite at fan_flashworks.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters.
Kendra’s parents had handed her over to her watcher for training when she was very young. She barely even remembered them now, although she’d seen pictures, but that was okay; she had a purpose in life, a calling, and it was an honor to serve. She’d worked hard since that long ago day, and while she remembered it being difficult at first, her watcher was a good and fair man who provided for all her needs.
She didn’t have a lot to call her own, but then she didn’t need much. She had a roof over her head, and free access to all the books and weapons she required in order to carry out her mission. She was fed, and clothed, and given a modest allowance to buy personal items such as makeup and jewellery. She was better off than a lot of girls her age, and she certainly didn’t feel sorry for herself, so it seemed strange that Buffy should feel sorry for her.
Then again, Buffy had so much. Family, friends, school, and so many clothes. She had on a different outfit every time Kendra saw her. It was so strange.
Buffy let her emotions control her as well, claiming they made her strong, whereas Kendra had always been told that emotions were a luxury she couldn’t afford. Which of them was right? Maybe it didn’t matter; they both did what worked best for them, and Buffy was an amazing fighter, almost as good as Kendra herself, despite not having the benefit of years of rigorous training.
The battle to save Angel, fighting the vampire Spike as well as several members of the Order of Taraka, was fast and brutal. It was far from Kendra’s first fight against the forces of evil, but it wasn’t going well. She and Buffy were outnumbered, and Buffy’s friends could only do so much to help. They weren’t Slayers, they didn’t have the strength or the speed, never mind the skill.
Then the woman with the knife slashed at Kendra, opening a gash in her arm, ripping the sleeve of her shirt in the process. Kendra saw red, and it had nothing to do with the color of her blood.
The shirt was Kendra’s favorite; actually, it was the only one she owned but that was beside the point. Kendra had loved that shirt from the moment she’d put it on, and this evil woman had ruined it. Even if the sleeve could be repaired, which was unlikely, it would never be the same.
As the anger roared through her Kendra began to understand what Buffy had told her, how anger gave her fire, and she went on the attack with more energy, more determination to make the woman pay for what she’d done than she’d ever known before. It felt amazing! Her whole body seemed to crackle with fury; she was unstoppable! Surely now victory was within her grasp! Spike and the assassins couldn’t possibly hope to stand against her!
Later, when the battle was over and she was leaving Sunnydale sitting in a seat on the plane instead of hiding in the cargo hold, Kendra ran her fingers over the sleeve of the shirt she was wearing. It wasn’t new, it was one of Buffy’s, but somehow that just made it more special. It didn’t matter that Buffy had more shirts than Kendra had ever dreamt of and could easily spare one. It was pretty, and soft, and Buffy had given it to her without anyone asking her to, had gone through her closet and picked out not the one she liked the least, or one she never wore, but the one she thought would suit Kendra.
Smiling, Kendra stared out the window, waiting for the plane to take off, her fingers still stroking the sleeve, feeling the softness of the fabric. This shirt was her new favorite, not because it was anything special to look at, but because it had been a gift to her from the first person she’d ever considered her friend.