Author: Asrai
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: A big, fat thank you to Holly and Kat who were willing to beta-read this fic for me!=)
Chapter 01 - A Better Place
*"Get out, you little shit! I never want to see your ugly face again!"
Buffy ducked to avoid her mother's fist, fell to the ground and scrambled hastily to her feet. Her mother was stoned, again, and she hadn't been really pleased when she'd found out that Buffy had pilfered the rest of her monthly money to buy food.
"Come on, get out! And don't come back!"
Buffy ran to the door, grabbed her old, too small jacket and was out of the apartment before her mother could follow her. She heard her raging inside, screaming and shouting about thieves and money and brats who were good for nothing. She'd gotten used to her mother's tantrums a long time ago but today it had been worse than normal. It looked like she had to spend the night outside again.
The door behind her opened and she began to skip down the stairs. Reaching the front door and pushing it quickly open, she didn't see the man until she ran into him, stumbled and fell to the ground for the second time in five minutes.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" she called out, annoyed.
It was a young man, Buffy saw, perhaps twenty years old. He was relatively tall, lean and had dark brown, curly hair.
"Sorry. but. wait a moment." He sounded strange and she decided that he was not from LA. Now he took a picture out of his jacket, looked at it and then at her.
"Are you Buffy?"*
~~~
God, how small can this stupid Sunnydale be? I mean, I know it isn't LA, but this is ridiculous.
Anyway, now that I've found a place to crash that isn't too expensive, I'm free to explore my new and exciting working place- SunnyD's graveyards. Let's see how good the vamps on the hellmouth really are. But I put my stakes and knives on the bottom of my bag and so I turn the bag upside down and all my stuff- everything I possess now- falls into a heap on the bed.
I didn't take the time to pack all my clothes; didn't really notice what I packed either. I realize with a pang that I have two of Thomas' tee shirts but forgot my red leather pants. Damn. I grab two stakes and small knife- muggers aren't really impressed by pointy, wooden sticks- and leave the ratty excuse that tries to pass itself for a motel room.
A cemetery isn't hard to find and I begin to patrol between the headstones. I can hear some cars in the distance, but other than that, it's completely quiet. Strange. It's strange to patrol alone, too. He always insisted on going with me- it's against the rules and he couldn't really help me when I fought, but still- I knew that he cared. He cared so much it-
K-word's a bad word, too. Are there ever going to be any vampires here? I slowly breathe in and out and try to concentrate. I'm not good at sensing the undead; normally they come to me- I don't have to find them. But although I still hurt all over, I'm itching for a good fight. I gotta prove that I can still kick ass without getting somebody killed.
There you are. I run into the direction of the vampire and the headstones and crypts fly by. I take a stake out of my pocket and arrive just in time as a new vampire tries to leave his grave. He's quite clumsy and so I grab his hand and help him to his feet. Staking him is no fun if he doesn't know who sends him back to hell.
He's in vamp face and looks at me with an incredibly dumb expression- I almost pity him. Almost.
"Hi," I say and backhand him across the face, "I'm Buffy."
I plunge the stake into his heart and he turns to dust.
"Nice to meet you."
Well, that was easy. Perhaps my special Welcome-to-SunnyD-present. Despite that, I think I'll call it a night- my legs hurt from the short run and the knuckles of my hand burn. It's ten p.m.; too late to say hi to the watcher guy of the other slayer- what was her name again? Fate or something like that. Thomas showed me a picture of her, after I was called. Thought she was dead until the Council called and let him know that she'd survived her stunt with a master vampire.
So I put the big meeting on my schedule for tomorrow- or the day after that, whatever- and leave the cemetery. It doesn't look like there are many places in SunnyD to have fun, but there has to be some clubs, right? I see a group of youths heading towards a small alley and follow them in a distance. They're dressed to party and bingo- they enter some kind of warehouse. 'The Bronze'. Okay.
In comparison to LA this here is small- but it'll have to do. There's a live band playing, not my kind of music- but they're cute, so who cares. It's full and I push my way through the crowd to the bar.
"A coke," I order and the barkeeper's smile falters slightly as he notices my scraped and bloody knuckles. If you knew what's underneath my shirt, buddy. luckily they left my face unharmed. Saved that one up for the end that never came. Plopping down on a couch, I sip on my coke and try to relax. Yesterday at his time I'd just entered their lair and I can't help but realize how unreal this whole scenario is. Look at me, sitting here all- alone in SunnyD, trying to make a new life. I've never left LA before. I would have, next summer, after graduation. To England, land of lots of tea, rain and stuffy accents.
My drink's empty, the band plays an even slower song and I know that it's time to leave. I'm not in the mood for slow, cuddly dancing with a strange guy, so I stand up- and see her. The other slayer.
She's laughing and I almost wouldn't have recognized her because she doesn't look like the girl in the picture I saw at all. That girl was pale, had big eyes that just screamed 'Love me' and looked overall like she'd throw up every moment. No wonder, it was taken shortly after her calling and Thomas told me she didn't know about the slayer deal before. Poor, lost, little girl. But now, two years later, she' s grown up and stands there with her friends and looks so happy that I feel a short burst of jealousy. A guy has his arms around her waist and whispers something in her ear. Boyfriend? Another, red-haired girl is standing next to them and stars at the stage. A picture perfect, Kodak moment.
I snort and turn around to leave.
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: A big, fat thank you to Holly and Kat who were willing to beta-read this fic for me!=)
Chapter 01 - A Better Place
*"Get out, you little shit! I never want to see your ugly face again!"
Buffy ducked to avoid her mother's fist, fell to the ground and scrambled hastily to her feet. Her mother was stoned, again, and she hadn't been really pleased when she'd found out that Buffy had pilfered the rest of her monthly money to buy food.
"Come on, get out! And don't come back!"
Buffy ran to the door, grabbed her old, too small jacket and was out of the apartment before her mother could follow her. She heard her raging inside, screaming and shouting about thieves and money and brats who were good for nothing. She'd gotten used to her mother's tantrums a long time ago but today it had been worse than normal. It looked like she had to spend the night outside again.
The door behind her opened and she began to skip down the stairs. Reaching the front door and pushing it quickly open, she didn't see the man until she ran into him, stumbled and fell to the ground for the second time in five minutes.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" she called out, annoyed.
It was a young man, Buffy saw, perhaps twenty years old. He was relatively tall, lean and had dark brown, curly hair.
"Sorry. but. wait a moment." He sounded strange and she decided that he was not from LA. Now he took a picture out of his jacket, looked at it and then at her.
"Are you Buffy?"*
~~~
God, how small can this stupid Sunnydale be? I mean, I know it isn't LA, but this is ridiculous.
Anyway, now that I've found a place to crash that isn't too expensive, I'm free to explore my new and exciting working place- SunnyD's graveyards. Let's see how good the vamps on the hellmouth really are. But I put my stakes and knives on the bottom of my bag and so I turn the bag upside down and all my stuff- everything I possess now- falls into a heap on the bed.
I didn't take the time to pack all my clothes; didn't really notice what I packed either. I realize with a pang that I have two of Thomas' tee shirts but forgot my red leather pants. Damn. I grab two stakes and small knife- muggers aren't really impressed by pointy, wooden sticks- and leave the ratty excuse that tries to pass itself for a motel room.
A cemetery isn't hard to find and I begin to patrol between the headstones. I can hear some cars in the distance, but other than that, it's completely quiet. Strange. It's strange to patrol alone, too. He always insisted on going with me- it's against the rules and he couldn't really help me when I fought, but still- I knew that he cared. He cared so much it-
K-word's a bad word, too. Are there ever going to be any vampires here? I slowly breathe in and out and try to concentrate. I'm not good at sensing the undead; normally they come to me- I don't have to find them. But although I still hurt all over, I'm itching for a good fight. I gotta prove that I can still kick ass without getting somebody killed.
There you are. I run into the direction of the vampire and the headstones and crypts fly by. I take a stake out of my pocket and arrive just in time as a new vampire tries to leave his grave. He's quite clumsy and so I grab his hand and help him to his feet. Staking him is no fun if he doesn't know who sends him back to hell.
He's in vamp face and looks at me with an incredibly dumb expression- I almost pity him. Almost.
"Hi," I say and backhand him across the face, "I'm Buffy."
I plunge the stake into his heart and he turns to dust.
"Nice to meet you."
Well, that was easy. Perhaps my special Welcome-to-SunnyD-present. Despite that, I think I'll call it a night- my legs hurt from the short run and the knuckles of my hand burn. It's ten p.m.; too late to say hi to the watcher guy of the other slayer- what was her name again? Fate or something like that. Thomas showed me a picture of her, after I was called. Thought she was dead until the Council called and let him know that she'd survived her stunt with a master vampire.
So I put the big meeting on my schedule for tomorrow- or the day after that, whatever- and leave the cemetery. It doesn't look like there are many places in SunnyD to have fun, but there has to be some clubs, right? I see a group of youths heading towards a small alley and follow them in a distance. They're dressed to party and bingo- they enter some kind of warehouse. 'The Bronze'. Okay.
In comparison to LA this here is small- but it'll have to do. There's a live band playing, not my kind of music- but they're cute, so who cares. It's full and I push my way through the crowd to the bar.
"A coke," I order and the barkeeper's smile falters slightly as he notices my scraped and bloody knuckles. If you knew what's underneath my shirt, buddy. luckily they left my face unharmed. Saved that one up for the end that never came. Plopping down on a couch, I sip on my coke and try to relax. Yesterday at his time I'd just entered their lair and I can't help but realize how unreal this whole scenario is. Look at me, sitting here all- alone in SunnyD, trying to make a new life. I've never left LA before. I would have, next summer, after graduation. To England, land of lots of tea, rain and stuffy accents.
My drink's empty, the band plays an even slower song and I know that it's time to leave. I'm not in the mood for slow, cuddly dancing with a strange guy, so I stand up- and see her. The other slayer.
She's laughing and I almost wouldn't have recognized her because she doesn't look like the girl in the picture I saw at all. That girl was pale, had big eyes that just screamed 'Love me' and looked overall like she'd throw up every moment. No wonder, it was taken shortly after her calling and Thomas told me she didn't know about the slayer deal before. Poor, lost, little girl. But now, two years later, she' s grown up and stands there with her friends and looks so happy that I feel a short burst of jealousy. A guy has his arms around her waist and whispers something in her ear. Boyfriend? Another, red-haired girl is standing next to them and stars at the stage. A picture perfect, Kodak moment.
I snort and turn around to leave.