We Could All Use a Little Community

Buffy held her stake close in one hand and the blessed sword of Antioch in the other as she moved through the tunnels. She'd been chasing a tentacle monster that she thought Giles had called Cthulu jokingly, but Willow said it was more like a kraken. No one living had seen the creature, but lucky her, it was all the other slayer's days off, forever, since she was the one and only.

Maybe she was imagining things, but the tunnels felt closed in tonight. Darkness pressed in on all sides. If she'd been claustrophobic, Cthulu could have stayed down here for eternity for all she cared. Then again, it had probably been down here for at least that long. Nothing like Sunnydale sitting on a Hellmouth to open up new possibilities from R'yleh or wherever tentacle creatures lived normally.

Wait, were they normal? She was tired of discovering all the ways living here sucked.

The walls of the tunnel squished tightly into her sides as she squirmed her way through. Suddenly, something fell and hit her on the head. She fell forward into solid wood and dropped the sword. She felt around for her weapon, but something was very wrong.

Archangel Gabriel, aka the Trickster, had the giggles. Watching Sam Winchester try to think his way outside the Groundhog Day of Dean dying scenarios had been too much fun. Probably dear old Dad would find Gabriel's methods pedestrian, but not everyone had Gabriel's sense of humor.

Gabe grinned and snapped his fingers. He always enjoyed ending hard work with wine, women, and song. He stumbled in the sudden darkness. "What the…"

Something lashed out at his calf, and made a hell of a lot of noise getting off what he assumed was the ground.

"Hey, wait…!" He snapped his fingers and suddenly him, the petite blonde with a fierce look and weapons were bathed in bright light in a—storage closet?

"Who are you?" she demanded, immediately.

"Gabe. And who are you? Athena? Though I always thought she was taller than that."

"Bring us back to the tunnels, or I'm going to start carving pieces off."

Gabe snapped his fingers, stared at them, snapped again. "Uh, I'd love to get out of here, but it appears my mode of transportation is broken."

"Great, just great. I get stuck with, whatever you are, and you're defective."

"I'll have you know I'm an archangel, and I'm not defective. Are you gonna answer the question? Who are you?"

She sighed. "I'm Buffy." She stowed her stake and reached for the doorknob.

It opened easily, and they both fell out at the feet of a shorter bald man who hopped back. "Why butter my bottom and call me Ghee. What do we have here?"

A pert brunette stepped up. "Theater folk, Dean? I'd guess theater folk."

"Now, now, Annie, not everyone who comes out of a closet is a thespian. My name is Dean Pelton, and who might you two be?"

Gabe hopped up and brushed off his clothes. "I'm Gabe, and this is Buffy. And we aren't from the theater."

"Oh, I just assumed that because of the play sword," Annie pointed.

"This isn't a play sword," Buffy began as she touched the edge, frowned, then touched the edge again. "Or it wasn't until I got here."

"You two are gonna fit right in here at Greendale College," the Dean said, brightly as he turned and wandered off.

"College?" Gabe and Buffy repeated in dismay.

A handsome man dressed in casual but well-thought clothing stepped up. "I ask myself that question every day, but here we are."

"Jeff! I was just about to take Gabe and Buffy on the campus tour. You should join us," Annie invited.

"I think I'm going to pass. I have an appointment to pull my hair out slowly before Anthropology," Jeff told her.

"Your loss. See you at study group." Annie turned to the other two. "I know, let's go to the cafeteria!"

Buffy bit back a groan, and Gabe shrugged and snapped his fingers again. "Looks like we're going to the cafeteria."

Greendale generally bustled like most small campuses. Starburns walked past, star sideburns prominent as always. Buffy stared openly as they walked past. "Does he actually…?"

"Don't focus too hard on it or we may never get back to our respective places," Gabe whispered to her.

Annie seemed to be chattering away, not minding if anyone was listening to her or not. "And that's the mean girls' table. That's where Abed used to work. Oh, yes, and here's Shirley!"

The Shirley in question seemed to be somewhat larger than life, pregnant, with a small Chinese man hovering around her. "I just wanted to rub your belly for luck!" he sniveled.

"Chang, if you touch my belly, you're going to lose your luck and your hand," Shirley snapped back at him.

Chang sighed dramatically and walked away.

"How are you feeling, Shirley?" Annie bounced up to her.

"As well as someone nine months pregnant with two baby daddies can be," Shirley griped.

"Did she just say…?" Gabe began.

"Don't pay attention or we might never get back," Buffy reminded him.

"Hey, Shirley and Annie, don't Britta and Jeff look different today?" a white-haired old man walked up to the group.

"It's not Britta and Jeff, Pierce. They're Buffy and Gabe." Annie shook her head.

"All blondes look the same to me." Pierce jabbed Gabe's side. "You know how that is."

Gabe nodded in agreement. "They sure do."

Annie and Buffy said in unison, "Hey!"

Pierce shrugged. "Well, they do. Nice talking to you Fluffy and Bob."

Shirley shook her head as Pierce left.

Buffy blinked at Pierce's back. "Is he always…?"

"Like that? Yes." Annie gestured toward another exit. "I'm going to show you the study room next."

"You all have a blessed day," Shirley said in a little voice as she turned to leave with Chang trailing behind her.

Buffy shudders, "Creepy."

"Chang? Oh, that's just who he is." Annie beams. "Oh, look, there's Britta!"

Gabe turned his head and waggled his eyebrows. "Now, that's what I'm talking about."

Buffy and Annie muttered under their breath, "Men."

Britta sauntered over to them. "Annie, just the girl I wanted to see. I was wondering if you had the notes for…"

Annie reached into her bag and pulled out three inches of paper.

Britta continued. "...every class. Of course, you do. Thank you, Annie." She took the pile of paper and passed on by.

"And that was Britta. Onward to the study room!" Annie led them through a series of seemingly non-connected walkways before they bumped into two young men around Annie's age.

"Abed and Troy—just the two people I wanted to see," Annie informed them.

"Oh, hi, Annie. Who are they?" Troy inquired.

Abed interrupted, "Buffy the vampire slayer and the trickster, also know as Gabriel the Archangel."

Troy stared at Buffy and Gabe.

Gabe stared at Abed. "How did you know?"

"Season five, episode eight, Changing Channels. It's the one where you put Dean and Sam into TV shows," Abed answered, precisely.

"Season five...TV shows? Huh, I'll have to remember that. Good one, Abed," Gabe congratulated him.

Annie proceeded as if she hadn't heard a word, "Abed is great at imagining things."

Troy nodded in agreement. "You should watch Abed and Troy in the morning."

"I was just taking them to see the study room," Annie reiterated.

Gabe met Buffy's eyes. "I'd love for Abed to show us instead. I always enjoy talking to someone nearly as creative as me."

Annie wilted a little, "Oh, well, if you'd rather he show you."

"I really would, Annie, but thank you for the interesting meander we took through your school," Gabe told her firmly.

Troy brightened, "Let's go! We can show you the table and couch where Britta and Jeff had sex during the paintball game."

"Not this time, Buddy. We need to talk to Abed alone," Buffy backed up Gabe.

Troy sighed and looked at Abed for confirmation. Abed nodded. "We'll work on Robots, Robots, Robots, part four when I'm done."

Troy grinned and grabbed Annie's arm, half-dragging her away. "Troooy!"

Gabe leaned in toward Abed. "You can imagine things? Do they come true?"

Abed squinted and nodded slowly. "Sometimes. Like the time we were claymation for Christmas."

Buffy moved close. "Do you think you could imagine us back to our homes?"

"Carry the three, add forty-two, and then, yep, yes, I can," Abed agreed with incredible confidence. "First, show me where you came from."

Gabe looked around, stumped, until Buffy grabbed his sleeve and led them through a much shorter path to the storage closet they'd exited from.

"A storage closet, huh?" Abed opened the door and looked inside. "Okay, get in."

"How will we know you're not going to lock us in the closet and leave us there?" Gabe asked.

Abed shrugged. "You don't, but do you have any better ideas?"

Gabe snapped his fingers again and stared at them with disgust. "No, no, I don't."

He straightened his shoulders and ambled into the closet like he belonged there. Buffy rolled her eyes. "We're depending on you, Abed. Send us home."

"Whatever you do, don't touch anything," Abed said as he shut the door on them.

Buffy stared into the dark where she assumed Gabe was standing. "Archangel, really?"

Gabe smiled. "Yeah, something like that."

"If this doesn't work, I'm going to hunt someone down and kill them," Buffy informed him.

"I believe you."

On the other side of the door, reality shifted slightly. Whirling stars bounced around Abed. Whole galaxies zipped by as students strolled through, completely unaware of the magnitude of creativity swarming their tiny community college campus. Suddenly, without warning, everyone froze in place but Abed. He nodded one last time, and the universe continued on like it had never stopped.

Gabe stared up at the ceiling in his enormous heart-shaped bed. "Sam and Dean re-running TV shows? I'll have to do that next week." He snapped his fingers and wrapped his arms tightly around his imagination.

"Gabe? Gabe? Are you there?" Buffy stretched her hands out in front of herself and found the doorknob.

She stumbled out the door and fell over Xander. "What are you doing here?"

Xander groaned, "Being the worst doormat, ever."

Giles looked up from the tome he was reading. "Good job on killing Cthulu. Where's the sword of Antioch?"

Buffy sighed. "Would you believe me if I told you I left it at college?"

Abed gazed at his newest prize mounted on his dorm-room wall. "The Sword of Antioch. Cool, cool. Cool, cool."