A/N: Years ago I lived in Calgary (which, you may recall, hosted the 1988 Winter Olympics). Calgarians are among the friendliest, kindest people you'll meet. The city nurtures an admirable "can-do" attitude and a palpably upbeat vibe. Some pretty outstanding art and music comes out of there, too.
But, at least several years ago, living there could suck (like…hmm…a vampire?), so much so that a friend and I coined Calgary a gentle new nickname: "City of a Thousand Disappointments".
Because I can now post fanfic pretty much willy-nilly, I resurrected, as an opened time-capsule, this one-shot (that includes – gawd – a self-insert) which riffs on a possible reason for the suckiness that Calgary could be.
Thanks for your readerly indulgences. Joss Whedon: since in all your spare time you're sure to stumble upon this obscure fanfic and post a review – my sincere apologies.
Demonic Heart of the New West
I trudged home in the indigo of early evening, snow crunching noisily under my boots. Except for my footfalls, the neighbourhood was soundless as I left the main road and rounded the corner. I opted to take the well-trodden pedestrian shortcut between the darkened homes.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I walked into the alleyway to cross it and continue to the next main road, one block closer to home.
A heavy form dropped down into my path.
Two other figures immediately misted into view, one to my left side, the other at my back. All three blocked my way.
I knew what was happening even as I struggled with my disbelief. I'd heard the stories, some about friends of friends, but it was like a car accident, you know? You knew it was likely it would happen to you someday but you never really thought it would.
I snapped myself back to reality. There was nowhere for me to go that I wouldn't get beat:
I was too slow. I couldn't see enough in the gloomy winter dark. If I yelled for help I doubted anyone would show in time, or do anything other than be the second course.
But, thank god, years of classroom drills and contingency-plan workshops kicked me into autopilot. Steeled, I found myself opening my mouth to say,
"You sure you guys wanna do this?"
"I mean, if you really want to take on the Slayer, that's your choice. But I'd hate to get my cute new boots all dusty, you know? And I'm late for a thing. How about I find you later tonight, if you're all still hot to die?"
Even through the shadows, the vamps twitched visibly.
And then they regrouped.
Damn.
The ringleader lurched into my space, dragging with him a rotten-meat-stench, and rasped through bared fangs,
"I think. You're. Buffing."
F8ck.
And then, from somewhere above, a female voice said, lightly,
"She is bluffing. But I'm not."
- Buffy -
"Buffy!", I squeeked, if I even spoke her name out loud.
She crouched louchely on top of the wide wooden fence lining the alley, the silhouette of Mr. Pointy in her right hand.
Darkness not withstanding, I barely recognized her without the wide-legged stance we knew from the covers of our standard-issue safety pamphlets.
PSSHH! - PSSHH! - PSHHH!
All three vamps disintegrated faster than you could say, "My ass is saved".
She stood just off to the side, casually brushing vamp soot off the arm of her violet parka. My brain as frozen as the air temperature, no "Thank you for saving my life, Buffy" came out of my mouth.
I could only think to ask one thing:
"What the hell are you doing in Calgary?!"
She stopped and looked sideways up at me.
I stammered on, stupidly, "I mean, it's just, I thought most of the vampires went up north in the oil patch. It stays darker longer up there, anyway".
She smiled and thought a moment. And then she replied,
"You ever notice how things always go wrong in this town? Like, not at all how you expected, and usually also for more money than you thought? Plus the service is totally grouchy. And have you checked out the monster trucks and the suburban sprawl? Talk about things going all climate change-y! Yuck. Anyway, like the sign says on the way outta town, 'Calgary. City of a Thousand Disappointments', right? Well, why do you think it's like this?"
I blundered through my answer, "Erm, blinkered Right-Wing thinking combined with small-town closed mindedness and insatiable greed?"
"Yeah, sure, but those are immediate causes. What's really behind the manure of Cowtown?"
"oh….um….No….it couldn't be, right? I mean, it's such a small city, with nothing really going on…Are you telling me…?"
In the dim of the night, as she turned to leave, I could still see Buffy arch her Slayerly brow as she confirmed,
"Yep. Calgary's sitting on a Hellmouth."
ba-dah ba-CHING! And, no, I'm afraid I can't give you back the two minutes you lost to reading that fic. Disappointing, right? :)
