A few months ago I offered to write a new fanfiction for my friend Tabz, and she requested Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Then stuff happened and, well ... better late than never. It went up originally on my fanfiction.net account at https://www.fanfiction.net/~ozma914
This
takes place in my post-series universe (which someone dubbed the OzmaVerse),
but all you need to know is that Tara and the Buffybot were both brought back
to life by highly questionable magical means, and the slayers are now
headquartered in Chicago.
A Really Bad Idea
They took shelter
wherever they could, but suddenly there seemed far too little shelter to go
around. It was just a lounge area, after all. One could joke about Chicago all
one wanted, but no, the furniture was not made bulletproof.
Xander chose a couch,
because it allowed him head to toe protection; if not from bullets, at least
from blasts of magic and all but the most robust edged weapons. The padding
might even, with a little luck, stop a crossbow bolt. “This is a terrible
idea.”
From under a gaming
table, four of the youngest slayers turned to stare at him. Only now did they
understand that the table would shield them only from falling objects, such as
axes, or pool balls. A curtain had been laid across it and draped down to the
floor on the side facing the door, but it wouldn’t shield them from a stiff
breeze, let alone anything supernatural. Eyes wide, they cast around for a
different spot. All spots were taken.
“It is not a terrible idea. Stop saying that.”
Despite her assurances, Willow had crouched down between Xander and Kennedy.
The latter seemed more bemused than threatened by the whole thing, which Xander
chalked up to the slayer’s famous overconfidence.
“No, this is my first
time saying that. Before I only thought it.”
“Well, somebody’s been
saying that, and it’s making me mad.” Willow looked around. “Who was saying
that?”
From their left, where
she was barely visible with her back against a recliner, Dawn raised her hand.
From the right, where he’d taken refuge behind a snack table, Giles did the
same. Several other hands also went up around the room.
“Well … it’s making me
mad.” Kennedy patted the witch’s shoulder.
Apparently not concerned
with who he made mad, Giles pointed toward the door. It was one of two leading
to the lounge in the former Watchers Council’s Chicago refuge, but it was the
one nearest the skyscraper’s main elevator. “This is madness, Willow. We’re
inviting this threat directly into our own headquarters, and you continually
deny that it is a threat.”
“It’s totally a threat,”
Dawn added.
“Well, if it is we’ll
face it together.” Willow had that determined face that Xander liked so much,
when he wasn’t hating it—like now. “There’s strength in numbers. After all,
Buffybot is here.”
“No, she’s not,” Dawn
said. “At midnight she told Tara she’s been programmed to go into hiding for
the entire day. Then she went into hiding.”
Oh, that was interesting.
“A robot bailed on us,” Xander told Willow. “I mean, even she knew better.
Think about it.”
“Well, what made her
think …” Willow shook her head. “Tara, did Botty say why she had that
programming?”
Dawn poked her head up. “Tara
left with Kara and Dana to check out that report of seismic activity in
Boston.”
“I told them to hold off
on that,” Giles protested. “We were all to gather here.”
Dawn threw her hands out.
“Tara said—and she said this, not me—that she wouldn’t be caught dead in
Chicago right now.”
Willow looked stricken.
At first Xander thought it was the reminder of Tara’s death, until she gave a
plaintive sigh. “I wanted everyone together.”
“I came,” Faith called,
from somewhere across the room. “Xander made me.”
Willow looked to Xander,
who shrugged. “I told her there’d be chocolate and booze, if we survived.”
“That’s—!”
Xander’s phone buzzed,
and he only jumped a little. “It’s the signal.”
“Places, everyone!” At
Giles’ words, everyone scrunched down a little lower, trying to be completely
invisible. “Xander, is Jason ready in the armory? Andrew’s manning the
communications center?”
Willow jerked around.
“The armory?”
Heh. “That’s where the
big weapons are, Wil. You wouldn’t let us bring them in here.”
“Oh, for—!”
The phone buzzed again.
“Elevator’s reached the fourteenth,” Xander whispered.
Air seemed to be sucked
from the room, as everyone held their collective breaths. Someone started
praying. “Here we go again,” Dawn whispered.
The door opened.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
walked in.
Everyone knew what to do.
They leaped up, as one, to scream, “Happy
birthday!”
And then they held their
breath. Even Faith.
Buffy stood there,
frozen, only her eyes moving as they surveyed the mass of friends and
co-slayers. She, also, held her breath. Then she looked toward Willow. “Wil, I
really appreciate this, but …”
“No, Buffy, look.” Willow
hurried forward, then turned to take in all the naysayers. “I know you’ve had
some bad birthdays.”
“You’re so good at
understatement.”
“But I warded the entire
building, and even sealed off the magic room. There’s no unusual reports of
anything except that Boston deal, and that’s just some shaking ground halfway
across the continent. No weather systems are moving in, and the eclipse was
weeks ago. Seriously, nothing’s happening.”
Buffy looked around.
“Well …”
“We’ve got cake, and
snacks, and this punch stuff that Faith spiked, and another bowl of punch for
the underage people.”
A chorus of dismayed
“Ahhh’s” rolled past.
“No disasters, no
attacks, no apocalypses. We’ve got it handled, I promise.”
“Well.” Finally, Buffy
relaxed—a little. “Thanks, Wil. Thanks, everyone, I really appreciate it. Now,
show me to that punch!”
There was a general surge
toward the snack table, just as Xander’s phone buzzed. He glanced down at it,
and felt the blood drain from his face. No way. No frakking way.
He was still trying to
figure out how to break it to them when Andrew entered on a dead run, so fast
he had to grab the door jamb to keep from rocketing into the nearest furniture.
No one noticed at first, except for a few nearest him and another few,
including Dawn and Giles, who simply braced themselves.
Andrew gathered a lungful
of air.
“Godzilla’s attacking Boston!”
Silence followed. Then
Willow said, “That’s not funny, Andrew.”
Apparently having
anticipated this reaction, Andrew aimed a remote at the big TV on one end of
the room, then tuned to the news.
Godzilla was attacking
Boston.
Xander held up his phone.
“Um, Tara just texted … she says they’ll need some backup. He headed toward the
door. “I’ll help Jason get the weapons around.”
Dawn was right behind
him. “I’ll wake up Botty.”
“But …” Shaking her head,
Willow turned away. “I’ll unseal the magic room.”
“Wil?”
At Buffy’s voice, Xander
looked back. The Slayer had rested her hand on Willow’s shoulder. “It really
was a nice thought.”
Willow gave a weak smile.
“But next time … let’s
just make it a regular work day, okay? That way there’ll be less work.”
