Disclaimer: No! No! No! I own nothing here! Remember that! Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Firefly belong to Joss Whedon and his group. Seriously.

Yikes! I may have gone too far in the weird this time. And no, it's not giggle weird, but find-the-nearest-toilet-and-toss-your-cookies weird.

It gets bloody and violent and you were warned.

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Buffy runs into spacegoing cannibals.

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Drifting

It all began with a 'Bang!'. And no, I am not talking about the Universe's birthday. I am talking about my own personal distraction from Life's odd little screw job.

Hi, my name is Buffy Anne Summers, Slayer, the One Girl In The World, yadda, yadda, yadda. Ordinarily, that one world would be Earth. But I got reassigned one fantastically bad night; my boyfriend, Angel had turned evil after making love to me for the first time. He later tried to end the world, by sending it to Hell via a big mouth stone demon by the name of Acathla.

It almost work . . .I got there in time to keep him from using his blood to open the portal. But in the, oh so, unavoidable battle to the death the creature used my blood to open the portal!

If things were not screwed up enough already, dear Willow recovered enough to successfully complete the ensouling ritual giving Angel back his soul. Just in time for tearful good-byes and I love you's, then I dove into the portal cursing the PTB's and especially, those damn idiot Romany who started the whole curse thing in the first place!

When I dove into the portal, I expected to end up in the land of fire and brimstone and cloven-hoofed demons galore. Fun thing about what happened . . .Best idea I turned up was that one or more of those same Powers I'd been cursing, decided to get off their asses and actually do something for once. Even if that something was to divert my destination to a place less hostile to human life then a pure hell dimension.

Down I went, emerging with a serious 'Bang!' somewhere too damn high up in the air and ended up landing on a guy, dressed in poorly cured leather, cut-up and disfigured face-A glance told me I had interrupted his meal: a fresh and bloody human arm. Good thing I broke his neck when I landed on him! Since, I was expecting to arrive in a Hell dimension I was not all surprise by that. Nor was I surprised by the black horde of his fellow mutant cannibals swarming over me.

I still had my sword. And I was still the Slayer.

Death was my name and I walked and danced among the madmen and living corpses granting a final peace to any seeking me out. Too bad gratitude was beyond them-Or maybe not. Sometimes a soul can surprise you. They used melee weapons, swords and axes and long knives for the most part . . .The only long distance weapon they uses were poison darts-I least I believed they were poisoned. I was shot with a few and ended up experiencing the most hellish burning sensation, pushing me into a berserk's fury!

In the end, I swung my sword and decapitated another snarling, mutilated head. Momentum then sending the blood, spurring body in one direction and the still snarling head, in another. I awaited the next assailant in futile anticipation-There were no more, I stood alone, panting softly, sword in one hand and confiscated axe in the other. Foreign blood streaming down to the ground from me, collecting in small puddles. Bodies of near men piled around me. Soft tissue expelled from body cavities and trampled into the churned up bloody mud.

The stink of shit and piss and blood and sight of desecrated human bodies was something I had become used to over the years as the Slayer. But usually the culprit was some soulless demonic entity, but not me . . .Not the Slayer. At least, not until now.

Before I could respond to the carnage I had committed, my ears picked up a small sound. I raised my head slowly and for the first time my narrow focus widened-I noticed then the burning town and the other bodies-Men, women, and children in varied states of horrific, violent violation. The small sound repeated itself and suddenly saw them-Almost like wraith they emerged from the thick, heavy black smoke of their home. Men, women, some children-All of them bruised and bloody, with that far stare of horror beyond bearing or comprehension.

They came in hesitant, stumbling walks and stopped not too far from me. They formed a ragged circle around me-Their breathing the only sound they made.

We stood together like that for a while, then a woman, her face broken and both eyes swollen near shut spoke: "Is it over?" She whispered. "Are they dead?"

"Yes," I said with firm finality.

Tears began trickling down her face: they dropped down into the ground uncollected and unheeded, as she slowly sank down into that foul unclean ground and began wailing her soul's pain.

The others followed her in their laments and I joined them, my own pain blending with theirs.

Nightmares, both in dreams and in waking life, haunted all of us for a while. But we rebuilt; we buried our beloved dead and burned their murderers. We started all over, and in my case, I gained something untainted by prior ownership, or tainted by a warped legacy of duty.

Mom, Giles, and the Scoobies, even Angel, were not dead. They were merely somewhere else in the multiverse. Did I miss them? Yes, with all my soul. But they were in a version of Earth-That-Was, five hundred years back in time and space. While, I am exiled on a planet called Drift: a name given to it by the small human colony inhabiting it. No vampires or demons to fight, but there are vicious semi-men called Reavers, and the totalitarian Alliance government.

Not Heaven, but not Hell either. Just a place I could call home . . .In time.

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What you've read is a one shot, and yeah, Buffy does get back home again. This story is the result of serious sleep deprivation and I hope you can forgive me for posting it.

So, thanks for reading it and goodbye!