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Posted July 23, 2004;
Fan Fiction: 50 Things That Never Happened to Buffy Summers
Title: 50 Things that Never Happened to Buffy Summers
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Rating: PG to PG-13.
Category: B:tVS/various. See disclaimer for crossovers.
Disclaimer: All your Buffy are belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I also do not claim to own anyone/thing affiliated with the media productions CSI, The Dead Zone, Survivor, Underworld, Men in Black, Harry Potter, Spiderman 2, The X-Files, Monster House, Stargate: Atlantis, Stargate: SG-1, X-Men, Bones, Jurassic Park III, Slither, Legally Blonde, The Mummy, Pirates of the Caribbean, Lord of the Rings, Firefly, Star Wars, Godzilla, Boondock Saints, The Island, Jumanji, The Silmarillion, Star Trek: TNG, The Rock, Due South, PotC: Dead Man's Chest, Dresden Files, National Treasure, Mystery Men, Peter Pan, Equilibrium, NEXT, Reign of Fire, PotC: At World's End, Transformers, Live Free or Die Hard, 2 Fast 2 Furious, Lie to Me, Tin Man, Iron Man, Terminator: tSCC, Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, Fringe, Twilight, Sanctuary, or Inkheart.
Summary: 10 Things that Never Happened to [Character] drabble challenge x5.
Never Been Evidence
Buffy caught up with Nick and Sara at a convenience store along I-5.
After going on a two state rampage of destruction, the two former forensic investigators had gotten bored and started looking for a challenge. "They'll send the Slayer after you," a nameless demon had whispered; Nick had grinned cockily and replied, "Bring it on."
Three days later, camera footage lured Grissom in from Vegas. The images looked like his missing team members, but acted like bad sci-fi characters, and their victim's corpse had disappeared. Vampires? He didn't want to believe it, but the evidence spoke for itself …
Never Saw it Coming
The guy was cute; older than Buffy, blond, nicely shaped, beautiful blue eyes. The cane just added mystery. The way he'd frozen and stared after picking up her dropped cup was beyond creepy, though.
"Can I help you?"
He snapped out of it. "Don't go to the graveyard," he said abruptly. "Not tonight. You'll get injured -- there's a guy, he'll attack you in your bathroom while you can't fight back."
She raised her eyebrows. J. Random Stranger in a Sunnydale coffee shop thought he could see her future? Then again, Cordelia had been a Seer. Better to be careful.
Never Worn Tribal Colors
Jeff Probst twinkled at the camera, enthusiastically delivering the tag-line for the next episode.
"Buffy Summers has lived up to her reputation as the most able Slayer in centuries; due in large part to her efforts, her tribe has not yet lost a challenge. When trouble strikes the camp will that record be broken? Will her team continue to value her abilities or plot to eliminate her as a threat? To find out, tune in to next week's Slayer Survivor!"
Giles winced. Everyone had wanted to see Slayers in action now the secret was out, but this was becoming ridiculous!
Never Met Her Match
"What the hell are you?" Buffy gasped. With the fangs, the hairiness, and those eyes, he looked like nothing she'd ever seen before. Not quite vampire, not quite werewolf... could werewolves even be turned?
He lunged again, batting the stake from her hand with one clawed appendage, then pushed forward until he'd trapped her against the tunnel wall. She writhed in his grip, determined to break free, then froze as he melted into human form.
Muscular. Tall. Firm chin, brown hair, intense eyes... gorgeous.
Also frowning. "I thought a death-dealer was stalking me," he said. "What the hell are you?"
Never Been Anonymous
She tested the seams of the black suit, impressed by the stylish fighting fit they'd achieved but still rather annoyed that they wouldn't make her another one in leather.
"Lookin' good there, B," her companion said, running an appreciative eye over her form. "Careful. You might give old man K a heart attack."
"Me?" Buffy spluttered, laughing. "Look in the mirror, F. I thought the point was to blend in; every guy we meet will notice you in that."
Faith adjusted her chest proudly. "That's kind of the idea. Think they'll remember my face?"
"You do have a point there."
Never Been to Scotland
"Let me get this straight," Buffy said, staring at the old guy in the blindingly purple dress. "There's some Voodoo Mold wizard going around killing people, and all he needs is a stick and two words to do it. You want me to fight him hand to hand? What side of sanity did you wake up on this morning?"
"No, no," he assured her. "We wish for you to train our champion in the Muggle ways of fighting. He will need every advantage."
"You are aware that I'm the Girl-Who-Died-Twice?"
"That's all right," Harry said. "I'm the Boy Who Lived."
Never Sat Back and Watched
Metal arms slammed through the train, trying to pin down the guy in the red and blue suit. People screamed and ducked as shards of glass fell around their heads.
"Tell me that guy isn't human, Giles," Buffy pleaded from a seat near the back.
"I'm afraid he is." Giles shook his head and lifted the front page of the Daily Bugle, showcasing the menacing figure of Doc Ock.
"Stupid PTB rule," she fumed, watching anxiously as Spidey flew by.
"To each his own." Giles patted her arm consolingly. "This is his job; we're only here for the new Slayer."
Never Been the Subject of an X-File
"But Scully!" the tall FBI agent pleaded. "This could be the proof we've been looking for!"
"Of what, Mulder?" the short red-head riposted. "One girl acquiring super strength does not an alien experiment make!"
"But it's not just one!" Mulder threw up his hands. "Hundreds more were affected all over the world last year, at the same time! Tell me that's natural."
"You were right, Andrew," Buffy, listening from the window-ledge, whispered into her mic. "He's a little crazy, but he's determined to find the truth. Tell Giles. We need a distraction to get him off our backs."
Never Been an Interior Decorator
"And this is a replica of an authentic Nigerian death mask," Buffy said cheerily, hanging the wooden face on the wall. "It adds a tribal accent to the undead theme of the room. For the glass-faced cabinet in the den, I purchased a selection of typical monster hunter paraphernalia - Bible, vial of holy water, stake, silver dagger, axe, sword, crossbow..."
Steve frowned. "We hired you to decorate, not to arm the residents."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "There's more stuff in the truck. Besides, you said you wanted authenticity for the Horror House. Believe me, I know what I'm doing."
Never Been So Far From Home
Buffy's first encounter with the Wraith was an eye-opening experience. They healed quicker than she did and drained people faster than vampires. It was no wonder the PTBs had let her leave Earth; the humans out here needed super-powered help.
It still weirded her out that Walsh had kept her genes on file. Giles had been so excited, though. "Buffy, what if this means there's a genetic marker for Slayers? This could revolutionize Council theories." And so she was here. Without chocolate. Or shopping malls.
"Join the Air Force, he said. See the universe, he said. I'd rather be Slaying."
Never Had an Identical Twin
Buffy frowned at the sleeping figure in her bed, completely weirded out by the sudden appearance of yet another Summers cloned from her blood. "You're telling me an alien made her?" she asked, gazing skeptically at her visitor.
The blonde Major nodded, apologetically. "She was found when we retrieved one of our personnel. She shouldn't have survived more than a week due to the defective cloning process that was used, but as she did, and the President cleared you..."
"That's Slayer healing for you," Buffy said, then grinned. "Guess this solves the question of who gets my cookies."
Never Been to New York
Buffy circled the training mat warily, watching Logan carefully for hints of his next attack.
When mutants had gone public, Giles had broken the news that Slayers were artificial mutants, their DNA altered by a legacy enchantment. He'd then asked Buffy to accompany him to Professor Xavier's school, hoping to gain the Professor's assistance in encouraging the Scythe-generated Slayers' integration in society.
It had been refreshing for Buffy, being among non-evil people who could actually challenge her in a fight. And other things, if the light in Logan's eyes was any clue.
Impatient, Buffy grinned and made the first move.
Never Been Forgotten
"Angel?" Buffy exclaimed, staring at the FBI agent who had just entered the interrogation room. He'd made his last stand in L.A. two years ago and hadn't been seen since; could Giles have been right about the Sand-Shoe thing?
The agent frowned at her. "You're the second witness who's greeted me that way today. Do I have an identical twin running around somewhere? Because last time I checked, I didn't have any wings."
Buffy swallowed. She'd never quite let go of her dreams of happily-ever-after. But if he didn't even remember her...
"Nevermind," she said. "How can I help you?"
Never Met a Velociraptor
"Giles, these are dinosaurs we're talking about, not demons!" Buffy hissed at her Watcher as they walked toward the meeting room at Council Headquarters. "Unless InGen was using demon-frog DNA to make them, I think we should just let the military take care of it."
Giles sighed. "The dinosaurs who escaped Isla Sorna are incredibly fast-moving and dangerous creatures. The soldiers cannot quite meet them toe to talon, so to speak."
"So they want us to get eaten instead of them?" she demanded.
"Please, Buffy," Giles admonished.
"Okay," she sighed. "As long as that cute Dr. Brennan is there."
Never Forgot a Face
Buffy's jaw dropped as she stared around at the fields covered in corpses. All the bodies lay with their heads pointed toward one particular house, which apparently had held the zombies' leader before the local sheriff blew it up. "Wow," she said. "And I thought the thing with Mom's Nigerian Death Mask was scary."
"You think this is scary," Xander said grimly. "Wait 'til you meet Sheriff Pardy."
She frowned. "I thought he was the good guy?"
"That's not the problem," Xander said. "It's more... well..." He gestured toward their approaching contact.
"Caleb?!" Buffy shrieked, and reached for the Scythe.
Never Had to Bend and Snap
"Just bend... and snap! Bend... and snap! Like this."
Buffy froze in the doorway of the Janna Kalderash Academy's conference room, watching the newest member of the Slayer staff lead Andrew through some kind of routine.
"What is she doing?" she whispered to Willow, who had accompanied her for their meeting with Elle, a disgruntled young Slayer's parents, and the rest of the school's legal team.
"I don't think we want to know," Willow whispered back, then cleared her throat loudly. "Elle? Mr. and Mrs. Grant are here."
"Great!" Elle smiled brightly. "Andrew-- call me. Girls, let's get to work!"
Never Read from the Book of the Dead
Buffy turned the oddly shaped metal puzzle box over in her hands, searching for a seam. She didn't know what it was doing on Giles' desk or if it held anything, but she figured if he left her in his office without anything to keep her busy it was his fault if she got into stuff she wasn't meant to.
After a few minutes she stumbled across the solution and the bottom flared open. It was empty, but the new configuration looked kind of like a key.
"I wonder what this is for?" she mused, looking for a matching lock.
Never Heard of the Black Pearl
"So what's your story?" Buffy asked flippantly, staring over crossed blades at her skeletal opponent.
The skull bared its teeth in a ghastly grin, then fleshed out as the moon fled behind a cloud. From jaunty hat to braided beard to cutlass in hand, the demon was the picture of a pirate out of legend. "Rounding up cursed treasure, luv," he said. "Don't suppose you've a piece of Aztec gold tucked away on your person?"
Buffy frowned; how'd he know? "And if I do?"
He lowered his sword, sighing. "About time. I haven't tasted any rum in two hundred years."
Never Kidnapped a King
"I know, I know," Buffy said. "I was only supposed to bring back the special broken magical sword..." She shot a glance at the tall, grubbily-dressed, dark-haired man at her side, whose forbidding expression and tight grip on Narsil's hilt pretty much dared anyone to try and take it from him.
"I think... under the circumstances..." Giles said faintly, staring at their visitor.
"Good," she said, then tugged at the Man's elbow. "Then let's go kill some evil things and send you back home."
At his blank glare, she sighed. "This would be so much easier if you spoke English."
Never Left Earth-That-Is
Slender limbs flashed in a whirlwind of motion as Buffy tested River's hand-to-hand skills. She had the edge in supernatural strength and speed, but the girl's passive psychic abilities were so sharp that she was still able to block each blow before it hit.
Buffy hadn't seen Whistler or any other messenger of the PTBs since she'd arrived via portal in the cargo bay of this beat-up space-ship, but she was beginning to get an idea of the reason they'd sent her here. River could use her help-- and somewhere out there, a school-full of other kids still awaited rescue.
Never Had a Brother
Buffy wiped her mouth with a grimace of distaste, wondering yet again why she'd let Xander pick her costume. She'd managed to deflect him from Gold Bikini Leia to the white robes version, but she had given in, leaving the noblewoman's dress behind. She'd decided she'd rather not be that obvious that she wanted Angel's attention.
Whatever goal Xander'd had when he'd chosen her princess gear, however, had backfired on him. He'd dressed as Luke, and now, after their adventure as their costumes, she couldn't help but think of him as a brother.
A brother that she'd actually kissed. Yecch.
Never Faced a Dragon
The sword fell from Buffy's hand, clattering to the asphalt as she stared up at the scaly behemoth racing through the city. Giles had tried to warn her, but she'd been distracted worrying about Angelus, who still prowled Sunnydale while they pursued this "greater" threat. She'd brushed off his concerns; it hadn't seemed possible that anything could really be that big.
Godzilla passed her by, taking a flying leap into the river, and disappeared swiftly beneath the surface. Buffy took a shaky breath and turned away. Demon or not, maybe they'd be better off leaving this one to the military.
Never Been a Guardian Angel
From the looks of the brothers, they'd been drinking for hours, waving cigarettes around and getting chummy with the bartender. Their accents were Irish, not British, but Buffy felt a wave of nostalgia for Spike all the same.
Why the Oracles hadn't assigned her to him, she had no clue; why the McManus boys deserved some heavy-duty guardian angel-ness, she didn't know either. But she'd chosen to keep fighting the good fight this time, and this was where they'd sent her.
Hours later, as a pair of Russian bozos burst into the boys' loft, she began to get the idea.
Never Been a Guinea Pig
Spike stared, stunned, at the luminous, healthy woman standing before him. He hadn't known the Council had preserved the Prime Slayer's DNA, but it wasn't really a surprise; she'd died a decade ago and none of the Slayers had been as strong since. Of course they'd want to research why. The only real surprise was that this clone-- Summers Six-Echo-- hadn't led the breakout.
"Slayer," he breathed, at a loss for words.
She frowned, staring at him in confusion; then her expression cleared. "Spike?" she asked, tentatively.
If his soul had had a clause, it would have left him then.
Never Visited the Jungle
Buffy sat down, mildly puzzled that no-one had left yet, or seemed to even want to leave. Remarkably non-disastrous so far as Buffy-birthdays went, but with both Spike and Richard there, she felt a little claustrophobic.
She glanced over her pile of presents again and pulled out the game Richard had brought. Board games weren't really her thing, but maybe they could burn some time with it.
She gathered the others, and Xander rolled to go first. The game read back a clue-- "Monkeys slow the expedition."
No parties ever again, she thought, despairing, as chittering sounds filled the house.
Never Slew a Balrog
Buffy had no idea what had gone wrong the fourth-- and supposed-to-be-last-- time she'd died, but the place she'd woken up afterward? Definitely not her world's version of Heaven.
Sure, that Mandos guy had been pretty impressive, and he'd given her an amazing, pointy-eared new body, but why he'd seemed to think she was some great warrior with unfinished business in some place called Middle-earth, she hadn't the slightest idea.
She wasn't feeling too upset about it, though. Because the guy they were sending her with? Tall, golden-haired, blue-eyed, unbelievably gorgeous, and attentive. A girl could get used to that.
Never Been Put on Ice
Buffy was highly peeved to awake in the year 2364. She'd asked her friends to just let her die this time; the disease she'd had was painful and always fatal, but at least she'd known Heaven would be waiting.
Instead, they'd apparently had her frozen-- on a satellite! The spaceship-people that revived her, and three other almost-corpses, told her she'd been listed as a "Watcher's Council executive".
Luckily, the British-sounding Captain-- Pick-a-card, or whatever-- knew what that meant, and gave her a comm address for the Watchers' Earth HQ.
Boy, were they going to be surprised to hear from her.
Never Been Spied Upon
"How'd you find us?" Buffy asked, gazing across the conference table at the latest Slayer interviewee, Carla Goodspeed. She was married with a young kid, at least a decade older than Buffy, and never in the Potential program; she was the kind of Activated Slayer the new Council usually had a hard time finding. For the first time, however, strangely, such a Slayer had come looking for them.
Carla glanced over at her husband; Stanley shook his head slightly, and Carla turned back with a smile. "Let's just say we know a lot about a lot of things we shouldn't."
Never Met a Mountie
Buffy tried hard not to drool over the tall, gorgeous, red-clad Mountie as she questioned his spiky-haired American associate. If she'd known they made guys like that up here, she might have made a visit to the land of snow years ago.
"Yeah, I remember a Hank Summers," Ray said, frowning. "What about him?"
"He was my dad," Buffy said. "I was trying to find him to settle the custody issue with my sister, but then I found out he was dead, and his killers were last seen..."
Ray put a hand over his face. "Not again," he said, groaning.
Never Knew Her Own Bearing
Anya watched thoughtfully as Buffy drifted aimlessly through the Magic Box. It was a good thing she wasn't an employee any more; Anya appreciated her desire to earn money, but she had no salesperson's instinct.
After a while, Buffy paused at a low table displaying Caribbean artifacts and lifted a small, strange-looking compass in one hand. Anya's breath caught as she saw it; she'd tested it on Xander the day before and been very relieved to see it point towards herself. But as she watched, in Buffy's hands it spun aimlessly.
Heaven has no direction, Anya thought with a frown.
Never Hired a Wizard
Buffy compared the words on the shop's door with the ad from the phone book, then raised a hand to knock.
The door jerked open immediately, revealing a tall, lean man with disheveled dark hair, deep eyes, a bruised cheek-- and a hockey stick in one hand that fairly crackled with energy.
He looked disreputable, in a cute older guy sort of way; he was also apparently expecting trouble. Buffy didn't care. He was the first person she'd found in this reality to give her any hope she might ever get home.
"Harry Dresden, Wizard-For-Hire?" she asked him, and smiled.
Never Stole Historical Documents
"Tell him Gates has done it," the mystery caller insisted. "I tried to keep the discovery secret, but Ben would have none of my methods; I've been arrested. The Alexandria scrolls have been recovered, but they will be public knowledge unless you act quickly. I've done my part; now it's your turn."
Buffy frowned as the caller hung up, then stalked down the hall to interrupt Giles' meeting.
Giles paled as she repeated the message. "Ian was Council black-ops," he said. "He's been hunting those scrolls for years. The knowledge they contain..."
"So, road trip?" Buffy concluded.
"Indeed," Giles sighed.
Never Donned a Cape and Tights
Buffy gritted her teeth as she shook Mr. Furious' hand.
Something about Calling all of the Slayers at once had cascaded over, awakening natural metahumans as well. Until recently there'd been so few no-one had realized what they were; now, the world had changed.
Unfortunately, along with useful superheroes, they'd ended up with plenty of these guys, too. Second tier. Wannabes. Who Buffy had to hobnob with to cover for the Slayers' true natures.
"I am a ticking time bomb of fury!" the dork announced, squeezing her hand.
She squeezed back. Harder. "Vampire Slayer," she replied with a strained smile.
Never Followed the Piper
The thing about Neverland, Buffy mused as she stood over the demon's corpse, was that it was always accessible to boys who never wanted to grow up. Always. All they had to do was believe, and get lost in the right place.
Enter Andrew, hero of the hour. The trickiest part of the whole procedure had been capturing the fairy that came to collect him and relieving her of enough pixie-dust for the trip. Flying here? Easy. Finding her baby boy? She'd simply followed the trail of destruction.
And now? Pan would never carry off anyone else's sons, ever again.
Never Lost Her Passion
The worst thing about Prozium was how easy it made everything.
The Watcher's Council had mostly sat out the Third World War; it had been a human-centric action, and they'd had their hands full deterring demonic scavengers. Afterward, they'd found themselves barred from the new, ultra restrictive Librian government, and had needed a pair of hands inside.
Buffy hadn't wanted anyone else to bear the burden. And now-- she wasn't sure she'd be able to give it up.
No fear. No grief. The ability to do anything necessary without guilt.
It scared her more than anything else she'd ever faced.
Never Stalked a Clairvoyant
The thing about the future is-- every time you look at it, it changes, because you looked at it. And that changes everything else.
Except in a few rare instances. Like this one. No matter how many times Cris Johnson scanned the next two minutes, he always crossed the path of the short, blonde woman with the designer clothes and aggressively-held wooden blade. But she wasn't attacking him--
He walked further, then looked again. No, the guy behind him--
Who kept exploding into dust. Surprised, but intrigued, Cris kept moving forward, curious to see what else this future might hold.
Never Founded the Kentucky Irregulars
The Slayer had always been a creature of twilight, of shadows and swift movement and the stalking of monsters.
But even the Slayer-- even hundreds of Slayers-- could not defeat the threat that erupted out of London five years after Sunnydale fell. The single dragon in L.A. had been formidable; whole flocks of them-- impossible.
When the radios fell silent, Buffy was trying to find Dawn in Kentucky. Her search failed, though she rescued others along the way and taught them what she knew of survival.
It wasn't enough to save them.
But it was enough to save the world.
Never Sailed Aboard the Flying Dutchman
It was over in the blink of an eye. Buffy's third death was heralded by an explosion, a rush of wind, and then falling, falling out of the sky.
The next thing she knew was a kind, strong face, framed by a bandana and loose dark hair, above a scarred, leanly muscled chest. She stared for several seconds, then blinked as she realized she was in the ocean, and he in a ship alongside.
"Will you serve?" he asked gently.
It wasn't heaven, but-- this time, she hadn't been ready to die.
"Yes," she said, and reached for his hand.
Never Met an N.B.E.
Buffy stared up-- and up-- at the Watcher's Council's official contact with the latest nonhuman race to visit Earth.
"You did not just say that," she exclaimed, disbelievingly. Then she turned to the enormous, yellow-plated being's human associate-- a gangly teenaged boy younger than Dawn-- and gave him her best puppy-dog eyes. "Tell me he didn't just say that."
Sam shrugged. "I know it's hard to believe, I thought they were Japanese or something at first--"
"But robots?" Buffy interrupted with a groan. "Giant alien robots from outer space? Andrew is never going to let us live this down."
Never Bonded with the Boys in Blue
Buffy sighed, feeling a headache coming on as Giles argued with their visitor. He was the father of one of their new Slayers. More than that, he was a national hero, a cop who knew more than most about the nature of sacrifice and duty and only wanted to protect his daughter.
"Mr. McClane," Giles insisted, "our Watchers are highly trained--"
"Lucy is going out there without me over my dead body," McClane replied through clenched teeth.
If only more of the Slayers' fathers were that supportive.
"Giles," Buffy murmured, and laid a hand on her own substitute-father's arm.
Never Drove a 10-Second Car
Buffy glanced at the driver to her left, smiled brilliantly at the challenge in his laser-bright blue eyes, and revved her engine.
That driver's course Giles had insisted she attend had been a revelation. According to the instructor, her Slayer reflexes were too quick for normal vehicles at normal speeds to handle, but a souped-up street racer...
She laughed as her opponent revved a reply. Racing fired her blood better than anything bar Slaying, addictive and satisfying. Especially against an opponent as skilled as 'Bullitt'.
"Come and get me," Buffy mouthed at him, and pushed the pedal to the floor.
Never Faced a Lie Detector
Buffy frowned at the suit-wearing, serious-faced guy seated across from her. This wasn't the first time she'd been interrogated about a Slay-adjacent dead body, but usually it was a cop asking the questions, not a 'deception expert'. That worried her.
Dr. Lightman frowned back. "I believe you when you say you didn't do it. But you are lying about what you were doing there."
She put on her best innocent expression and opened her mouth to reply.
He pre-empted her with a snort. "You are not nearly as skilled a liar as you think you are," he said. "Try again."
Never Heard of the Emerald of the Eclipse
Buffy stood outside the rustic cabin and stared up at the waterfall of green light flowing into the sky. It looked like nothing so much as the magical interdimensional energy that formed the Key, last seen embodied as her so-grounded little sister.
"Dawn," she murmured, horrified, as she watched.
She'd been wondering how the Council would retrieve her after a frisky Kansan tornado had thrown her car across dimensions into Backcountry, NeverNeverland. If this was what it looked like-- if they'd brought Dawn-- heads were going to roll.
Grimly, she started off through the darkling landscape toward the distant tower.
Never Saw an Arc Reactor
Buffy studied the news article about the new so-called superhero, 'Iron Man' Tony Stark, with a disillusioned frown.
"What?" Dawn teased her. "You have something against hot older guys who can kick ass? I thought he'd be right up your alley."
One would think. But Buffy was concerned with other factors. "I'm more worried about that glowy thing he uses to power his suit. He works with the military. Remember the Intiative? If the wrong people steal that technology--"
Willow sucked in a breath. "Oooh. You're thinking Adam, Mark II?"
"Trying not to, actually," Buffy replied with a shudder.
Never Fought Against the Machines
Maybe it wasn't obvious to most people, but Buffy could tell almost immediately that Cameron Baum wasn't a probable Slayer after all, nor actual sister of the teenaged boy with her. Something in her sentence structure, and the way she tilted her head, reminded Buffy of April and her own double.
"You're not human," she said, abruptly. "Who built you?"
Cameron glanced at John, then back at Buffy. "Slayers protect innocents," she said, consideringly.
"Yes," Buffy replied, narrowing her eyes at the robot. "We do."
Several hours later-- despite John's mom's objections-- the war against Skynet gained a new combatant.
Never Got a PhD in Slaying
"Are you kidding me?" Buffy asked, staring around the table at the startled 'league' of wannabe evil overlords. "The news media make you guys sound terrifying, but Angel was right. You're just a bunch of Warren Mearses plotting in your basements."
The horse-- seriously, an actual horse-- whinnied in reply, and all of them but the one in the red labcoat clapped their hands over their ears, alarmed.
Buffy laughed and pocketed her stake. "How about we try the Batman method? I'm sure the cops would-- Hey!"
She seized Labcoat Guy's raygun and broke it in half. "Any more objections?"
Never Met a Cullen
"He sparkled at me," Buffy repeated, still flustered by the encounter.
"Are-- are you sure it wasn't--" her Watcher's voice carried through the phone.
"In a diamonds-are-my-best-friend kind of way, not a flamey, 'ow, sunlight' way," Buffy clarified. "His eyes did that amber thing, but no wrinkly forehead, no demony vibes. I don't get it, Giles. Are they vampires, or aren't they?"
"My contact said they were, but your description certainly contradicts that. I'll have to do some further research--"
Buffy sighed. "Which means I'll have to stick around in Piney Rainforest, USA."
"I do apologise, my dear."
Never Became Part of the Pattern
It had been a long time since Buffy had last faced a demon ascension, but she'd only grown more experienced with age, and this time she'd had a lot more backup. The politician in question had died the moment his body began to morph.
Unfortunately, the event had been very public, and the FBI were all over it. She'd stayed behind to make sure her girls weren't implicated.
"You're sure this is part of the pattern?" she heard one blonde agent ask her partner.
Sunnydale syndrome strikes again, Buffy thought, peering down on the scene from the rooftop next door.
Never Stopped Wanting to Be Normal
"I'm sorry," Henry said, settling a hand on Buffy's shoulder.
"What for?" she replied stiffly, turning from the mermaid's tank to face the scruffy werewolf. He hadn't admitted it yet, but it was fairly obvious to a Slayer's senses. "Your Dr. Magnus has a new species of--" she could barely say it, "--abnormals to study, and the Council knows something about why Potentials actually have 'potential' that they didn't before. What's to be sorry about?"
"I know what it's like to want to be normal more than anything," he replied, quietly.
Unbidden, a tear trickled down Buffy's cheek.
Never Appreciated the Written Word
"So, Silvertongue." Buffy smiled across the open Hellmouth at her Xander-shaped friend. "We've come a long way since Giles forbid you to read Latin in the library, huh?"
"Thanks to Meggie," he chuckled, and made a 'gimme' motion. Buffy tossed the book over.
Then he began to read. "Before them stretched a dark, still lake. Neither sky nor sunset was reflected on its sullen surface. The Sirannon had filled all the valley..."
Dark water poured down, roaring between them. When it finally stopped, the priest they'd brought leaned forward and intoned a blessing.
The army of Turok'Han was no more.
© 2009 Jedi Buttercup.