When History Repeats Itself By Kelley and Shelley

Summary:  What's the best way to celebrate Dawn's sixteenth birthday?  Well, we've got a few ideas.  Let's see.  Hmmm…take Buffy's twenty first birthday, add a few morons, and what do you get?  A recipe for disaster.  Shaken, not stirred.

A/N:  We live!  Yes, we are alive and well.  Okay, at least physically.  We know we haven't written/spoken/breathed on the Internet for a couple of years now.  Yes, years.  Sorry.  Life after college is insane like that.  This is a badfic.  We kinda realize that period in fan fiction is somewhat over with now, but we started writing this story two years ago.  And we like it.  So we're going to share.  Occurs during some misplaced time warp after/during Season Six.  Anyway, read.  Enjoy!  If you concentrate hard enough, you'll see a pattern.  To us it's pretty obvious.  But again, you may not be able to see the sailboat in the Magic Eye picture.  But then again, we never could to begin with.

A/N:  If you like this, let us know.  If you don't, please don't flame us because honestly, what's the point?

Rating:  R for strong language, penguins, lesbian shadow puppets, kicking of corpses, penguins, and sex.  Lots and lots of sex.  Not graphically described, but you know what's going on.  Oh yes, you know.  And did we mention the penguins?

Chapter 1

Tara walked with a bounce in her step to Dawn's Sweet Sixteen birthday party.  She hoped that the gift she'd bought wouldn't offend the vaguely Christian heterosexual, for the most part sensibilities of the group, both alive and undead.  She stopped and looked around curiously.  She thought she heard the pitter-patter of little feet, but she didn't see anything.  With a shrug, she put her foot on the first step.

Suddenly the pitter-patter turned into a deafening roar of large pitter-patters.  There were even a few thumps in there.  Tara spun around and let out a shriek that wouldn't even frighten a mouse.  Her life flashed before her eyes and then she was gone.  Not invisible Buffy "Gone" (which was a really good episode), but gone in the "I just died" sense.  Literally.  Rigor mortis was setting in fast so we'd better get on with the story.  She's going to start to stink soon.  With evil little cackles of delight, her murderers drug her into the bushes in front of the Summers' residence porch.

Inside, the party was in full swing.  Dawn was sitting on the couch eagerly waiting for her presents.  Willow was entertaining herself by making lesbian shadow puppets.  Janice watched the show in fascination.  Xander and Anya weren't really doing anything, but they were in the room so we thought we'd mention them.  No, really.  They weren't doing anything.  They were just staring off into space.  Spike and Buffy were having sex on the kitchen counter.  But everyone was oblivious to that, despite the fact that Buffy was handcuffed to the sink's faucet.

Suddenly Willow, who doesn't do anything besides sit around (it's not like Buffy's having money problems or anything), decided she needed to change out of her flannel lesbianesque pajamas.

"Hey, Wills, where are you off to?" Xander asked the Sapphic ex-witch.

"Just changing.  Clothes only though.  Not my sexual preference.  I'm gay and I'm staying that way."

"I think I read that in a Hallmark card once," Janice remarked and started making her own shadow puppet.  She couldn't quite get the hang of page forty-three of the Kama Sutra.  Then again, she had really short fingers.

"Hey, Dawnie.  Come help me find an outfit," Willow said.

Dawn jumped off the couch.  "Okay," she said eagerly.  She followed Willow up the stairs.  But not in a gay way.

When they got to the room, Dawn flopped down on Willow's bed, but still not in a gay way.  She was saving herself for her one true love (who we'll be meeting later in this story.  Yay!).  Willow opened her closet and frowned.

"Oh Goddess!  Why?  Why?!"

"Why what?" Dawn asked.

"Why don't I wear any jeans, t-shirts, or anything without lace?"

"At least you're not wearing pink," Dawn said, trying to look on the bright side, for once.

"No, it's still there too, but it's not lace, so some force won't let me wear it.  Why can't I wear overalls for once?"

Dawn shrugged.  "I dunno.  The Goddess doesn't will it?"

"Any why do I still say Goddess?  I pulled Buffy from heeea-ven, a part of the monotheistic tradition, yet I still refer to the supreme deity in pagan terms.  Not that there's anything wrong with that, but where's the continuity?  Shouldn't I at least be confused?  I used to be Jewish, after all.  Then I'm Wiccan.  Then I ripped Buffy out of heeea-ven.  Is there one God…"

"Willow," Dawn interrupted.  "Weren't you about to do something drastic?"

"Oh yeah," Willow realized.

"You want me to try to stop you?"

"Nah."

"Shouldn't I put up at least a token resistance?"

Willow thought it over.  "Since you used a big word, sure why not."

"Willow, don't do it.  Think of the baby."

"What?" Willow interrupted.  "Hello!  Gay now!"

"Sorry.  Well, I tried.  I'll just leave now.  If I stop you, this story will have even less plot than it does.  Good luck and all."

She suddenly heard a loud thump.  It sounded like it came from the kitchen.  Funny, she didn't even know anyone was in the kitchen.  They must be getting ready to serve food.

"See you later, Willow," she called as she closed the door.

When she got downstairs, she noticed that Clem and Sophie were now sitting on the couch.

"Hey, when did you guys get here?"

"A few minutes ago," Sophie answered.  "So, you want to open your presents?  I'd suggest we eat, but I don't think you having anything I'm not allergic to."

"We brought alcohol," Clem cut in.  "Happy Birthday, Dawn!"

"I'm only sixteen, not twenty-one."

"There's a difference?" Clem asked.  "But you're taller than Buffy, and not nearly as sickly looking.  Where is Buffy anyway?"

"I think she's patrolling," Dawn answered.  "Anyone want some food?"

"I wouldn't go in the kitchen if I were you," Xander said before he once again stared off into space.

"Uh, ok."  Suddenly there was a knock at the door.  "Get out get out GET OUT!" Dawn screeched.  The knocking persisted.  "I'll get it," Dawn said chirpily with a flourish and a flip of her hair.  She opened the door, immediately asking "What the hell do you want?"  She knew better than to say "Come in" and actually being pleasant when opening the door was for sissies.

A box hit her on the forehead and she caught it reflexively as it fell.  "You could have at least put a bow on it," she grumbled as she opened it. 

Inside was a gaudy gold cross.  "What the heck is this for?"

"Let's just say it's from a friend."

"Huh?" Dawn asked.

"I didn't say I was your friend."

"Angel, what kind of crack are you smoking?"  Dawn demanded, glaring at the soulful vampire.  "Get in this house before I kick your ass."

Angel lumbered inside.  Dawn pinched his ass as he went by.  Angel squeaked like a girl.

"Did you know there's a body in the bushes?" Angel asked as he entered the living room.

"Well, it IS the hellmouth," Buffy explained, also entering the living room, rubbing her wrists absently.  Spike followed close behind her, adoration in his eyes.

"But Buffy, what if it's someone we know?" Anya asked.

Buffy thought for a moment, but stopped as steam started coming out of her ears.  "I guess we should go look.  Dawn, Janice, you two stay here.  You're too young to see putrid, mutilated corpses in various states of decay."

"Can I stay with them?" Angel asked.

"No.  You have to come and brood over the loss of life.  No one else will.  Except for Spike maybe, because he has a chip in his head so that I can be provided a sex toy."

Of course, no one commented on this line, because they're all still oblivious.

"But I'm scared," Angel argued.

"No you're not.  You're just horny," Anya clarified for him.

"Oh," Angel shrugged.  "Well, then let's go."

They troupe of intrepid heroes trekked to the bushes bravely (not so much as they were all pretty horny by now).  When they reached the bushes, they all gasped in shock or maybe it was just the smell.

"Tara!" Spike cried.  "Now I'll never get to have that threesome with her and Red."

"Spike!" Buffy yelled accentuated with a punch to the nose.  "You're an evil, disgusting thing!"

"But I love you, Buffy!" Spike cried.  Everyone heard that, but chose to ignore it.  They heard it all the time, after all.

"You're beneath me!  You're evil!  You don't have a soul!  You can't love!"

Spike didn't say anything else, just wordlessly handed her back her underwear from their earlier tryst.  She snatched the underwear from him with a glare, hoping no one noticed the exchange.  They didn't.

"What do you think killed her?" Clem asked.

"Vampires," Angel answered immediately.

"Zombies," Buffy offered.

"Really big demons," Spike said, putting his two cents in.

"I don't know," Xander said.  "Looks like assassination by penguins to me."

"Penguins?" Buffy shouted disbelievingly.

"Yeah, just look at the tracks," Xander tried to explain.

"Penguins?" Angel exclaimed doubtfully.

"What else could make that kind of beak marks in human flesh?" Xander reasoned.

"Penguins?" Spike asked incredulously.

"YES!  PENGUINS!" Xander snapped.  "Can't you people listen?"

"But why would penguins do such a thing?" Anya asked.  "It seems more like the status quo of a bunny attack."

"I know, Anya, but you have to look at the evidence."

"What evidence?" Buffy shrieked.

Xander sighed.  "The tracks?  The beak marks?  Oh, and the bloody beaked penguin that just waddled out of the bush."

The group turned to see that penguin as he flipped them off (something very hard to do without fingers) and waddled away.