Title: Once Upon A Time
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. At all. If I did, I'd have more money then God and would never have canceled BtVS and Angel.
Summary: A teenage girl is given an impossible destiny. She's taken away from everything she knows and everyone thinks she's dead. Eight years later, she's back, and in for one hell of a fight.
Distribution: Just ask if you want to use this.
Spoilers: All of Buffy and Angel. Through GoF, and some minor ones from OotP.
a/n: Thank you Jenna Summers, Moonjava, Allen Pitt, Manticore-gurl071134, gabrieldarke, angel-cordy, SunflowerLynx, Taryn, Perceval, Damia- Queen of the Gypsies, Vld, Etoile Star, Heain, laffinpebbles, IceBlueRose, NixiNox, and Lossienal.
I'm sorry about the lack of updates, but I've been really busy. I'm working on a musical, outlining The Fallen, a pet project of mine, and thinking of starting a new story in between this one and the sequel (yes, it's definite, there will be a sequel).
Also, anyone who loves Buffy should go to some of the best fanfiction ever written. Actually, it's some of the best anything ever written.
Heain, is this chapter long enough for you? I trued to make it decent-sized.
Oh, and I have officially shortened my author's notes! Yay me! This is, like, a record for shortness. Don't worry. Every five chapters or so, I'll have really long review replies at the end, and my regular notes at the top.
Now, as some of you might have noticed, the last chapter was pure filler, with slight (very, slight) foreshadowing. So, onto the real thing! And remember- Reviews make me update faster, so….
Please Review!
What are they thinking? Xander wondered.
He hadn't thought about it until now, but now that the question had entered his mind, Xander found himself speculating.
What must they feel every time they saw Buffy? She had been their friend, from what he could gather. From the way that Harry guy had acted, the Buffster had been a very good friend of theirs. Did they wonder what could have happened if the Watcher's Council hadn't been such a bunch of pricks? Did they feel as horribly as he would have, if the circumstances had been different? Did they know how much Buffy had done for everyone? Did they know what a great person she was? How much better she had made everyone around her?
In fact, Xander didn't think the Old Lifers- how he'd mentally labeled them- actually knew much about Buffy at all.
And so Xander had to wonder how he would feel if someone had stolen Buffy away from them instead.
The Scooby Gang was having their daily meeting. This time, it was official, as they were the Board of Directors for the Watcher's Council. And right now, they were debating a very personal topic without Buffy.
"I don't see why we can't just tell Buffy that we have to keep an eye on these wizard people. So what if she used to be one of them? They have an evil type and she's the Slayer." Anya stated stubbornly.
Giles took off his glasses and began to clean them.
"Anya, this is a very delicate matter. Buffy may not want to be around these people," He explained patiently, "And given your latest vision, it would be a good idea to monitor them, along with anyone else of interest. We just have to explain this to Buffy in a way which won't…" he trailed off.
"End up with the Buffy having an Ah-nold phase?" Dawn filled in helpfully.
"For lack of a better phrase, yes," Giles agreed.
"Giles, we know Buffy," Willow pointed out, "She's either going to go all wiggy on us, or she'll be fine, calm, rational-Buffy."
"Rational-Buffy?" Xander looked at Willow incredulously. "There is no such thing as a rational Scooby. The very concept boggles the mind. My brain is all boggled now."
Giles and Kennedy both rolled their eyes at that.
"Rational Buffy," Andrew repeated, "That sounds like it should be in a comic book. Rational Buffy- she uses her cool intellect and sharp powers of-."
"Shut up, Andrew," Everyone else said.
Andrew quieted.
"Xander's small mind notwithstanding, I think we should simply ask her what she wants to do," Giles stated.
"But we still need to keep an eye on these guys," Kennedy objected, "We can't just let Buffy's feelings get in the way of watching some potential bad guys."
"That's not what we're saying," Dawn objected.
"Sounds like it to me," Kennedy countered.
Dawn opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off by the arrival of their conversation- Buffy.
"Hey guys, what's up?" Buffy asked, dropping into a seat. "Anything Slay-worthy, yet?"
Giles cleared his throat.
"Actually, yes," he began.
Buffy looked slightly alarmed.
"You know, I was kind of kidding. I mean, was there a jinx involved? Did I jinx us? Was there a jinx-y thing involved?" she asked quickly.
Giles shook his head, a small smile appearing on his face. After all these years, his surrogate-daughter's train of thought never ceased to amuse him.
"Perhaps I should rephrase. This group of people you were involved with- the Order of the Phoenix- might potentially be dangerous. After all, they seemed to have omitted a few things in their first meeting with us. And with the prophecy, it might be prudent to-,"
Buffy interrupted him.
"I get it," she said calmly, "We're going to go visit Jedi Grandfather's house."
Most uncharacteristically, the Slayer didn't seem to be at all phased by what she had just said. Given her past history with the wizards in question, the other Scoobies were surprised, to say the least.
"Will, get the mojo going," Xander ordered.
Willow nodded while Buffy looked mystified.
"Giles, can you call Emily and have her send me the ingredients I need for the katra?" Willow asked.
Giles nodded and reached for the phone.
"What are you guys talking about?" Buffy demanded.
"We're getting Buffy back," Xander, Anya, Willow, Dawn, and Giles said simultaneously.
"Huh?" Buffy looked like she was sincerely questioning her friends' sanity. "I'm Buffy. Me, Buffy. Buffy is me."
"No you're not," Anya told her, matter-of-factly, "You are a strangely understanding person who has stolen Buffy's body."
"What she said," Xander said, nodding sagely.
"And you're probably a very hairy man with a small penis who wants to use Buffy's body to have sex." The ex-demon continued.
Xander's nodding stopped abruptly.
"Oh! That's like Episode 19 of…" Andrew trailed off at the looks that he received. "I'm shutting up now."
"What?" Buffy asked, now looking like she had finished questioning her friends' sanity and was now trying to remember the number of the nearest mental hospital.
"Well, obviously you're not Buffy." Anya said reasonably.
Willow was the one nodding, now.
"Yeah, you're like the not-Buffy. You're NotBuffy." She said enthusiastically.
"Is there a demon?" Buffy asked cautiously. "A possess-y, mind-screwy demon?"
"No, you're just a body-jacker," Dawn said.
"Okay, then. I knew I shouldn't have said the jinx-y thing," Buffy said to herself.
To the others, she said,
"What's with the sudden rain of doubt?"
"You agreed. You were calm, rational, NotBuffy," Willow explained.
"That's where you slipped up," Xander added, sounding wise, "It gets 'em every time. Most evil types wouldn't think that the Slayer was so violent."
"Hey! I'm not violent!" Buffy protested. "And I'm not an evil, Big Bad wanna-be."
Giles snorted.
"Prove it," Dawn countered.
Buffy smiled as she walked to the door.
"I heard you all talking a few minutes ago," she said, "Meet me at their Headquarters at one?"
She smiled sweetly and walked out of the door, leaving seven slack-jawed Scoobies in her wake.
"I take my words back," Willow said at last, "Words, come here. That was so evil enough to be Buffy."
Harry looked at the reports dismally. Death Eater attacks were still at a standstill, something that should have been good, but wasn't, as there was no apparent cause. What was going on?
He couldn't figure it out. Normally, there were at least ten attacks a night, just for the "pleasure" of Voldemort's close advisors. But, now there was nothing, and that worried him. If there was no activity whatsoever, it meant that Voldemort was gathering his forces. Possibly to launch a fall offensive, maybe for some dastardly plan to wipe out Hogwarts. Either way, it was bad. And Harry didn't think they would be able to withstand many more attacks.
Up until this point, witches and wizards had been dying left and right. Some of those who were left had taken to staying safely within their homes, piling Protection Charm upon Protection Charm upon their houses, in a vain attempt to keep safe. Most of the remaining wizards had gone back to Hogwarts, where Dumbledore had opened the school as a refuge, just as he had said he would at the end of Fourth Year. They were put to work as members of security groups led by Phoenixes (the nickname for members of the not-so-secret organization).
If Voldemort rallied his troops behind him, and got reinforcements somewhere, there wouldn't be enough witches and wizards left to fight for long. Which meant that the Order was going to need help.
But where to find it?
The answer popped into Harry's mind instantly. Hermione. Of course, she would be the perfect person to ask for help. After all, he'd seen the resources she and the Snoopies had at their disposal- a whole building full of willing workers. Besides, Harry knew that she would never allow Voldemort to take over Hogwarts, no matter how much had changed.
So there it was, Harry had an idea, and now all that he could do was hope that Hermione would stop by soon, because they had to leave for Hogwarts in exactly six hours and fifty-five minutes.
Buffy knocked on the door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, briefly reflecting on the last time she had been there, less than twenty-four hours ago. There had been very little knocking involved then. She wondered if she could just sneak in.
Now that she actually knew who lived here, Buffy was feeling kind of… anxious. This time, she would be facing her old friends without the nifty little distraction posed by imminent death, and this time, Giles wouldn't be on hand to keep the guys occupied. And Harry and Ron would definitely want to talk to her.
It was funny, in a sick and twisted kind of way, that after all of these years her life would make a 360 and she'd end up here. Here. In England. With Voldemort as the biggest bad there was. And witches. And wizards. And magic. And Weasleys. And Dumbledore. And, most importantly, Harry and Ron.
A long time ago, Harry Potter had created a sense of awe in her. Then came that ridiculous affair with a troll whose head she could now crack open, and Harry Potter had become her friend. And with her new friend had come another- Ron Weasley. Once upon a time her world had revolved around them, and she had longed to be known as something more then The Brains of the Operation, or the Know-It-All, or Harry Potter's Other Friend. Back then, she had never thought that, one day, people would actually see her as a leader. Or how much she would wish that they didn't.
Harry had seemed so brave and heroic, seeking out the answers to every problem that came his way. But, now, Buffy knew the truth. Harry hadn't been heroic- although he certainly was brave at times- he had simply done what he'd needed to survive.
Then the door opened and the thoughts flew out of Buffy's head.
Remus Lupin hadn't been expecting his former prize pupil to be standing on the doorstep when he went to answer the rather…persistent… knocking. Actually, he had been expecting Tonks, along with the latest news of how the preparations for the new year were going at Hogwarts. So when he was faced with a pint-sized blonde and her mostly American cohorts, he wasn't quite sure what to say.
Thankfully, Tonks showed up about three minutes after he opened the door, and he finally remembered he was supposed to invite them in.
"Er, come in please," he blurted out.
As the- what did they call themselves? Snoopies? Swoops? Shoopies? Shoppies? Smoppies? Shooties? Ah, yes, that was it, Shooties. As the Shooties filed passed him to enter the house, he couldn't help but wonder why they had come. Surely they must have noticed what an uproar they had caused in the house. Tonks came in last, and she shot him a small wink.
"This might be something good, you old bat," she whispered to him.
Remus smirked slightly. Good old Tonks, making sure to reference his age at every possible opportunity.
"So, where is everyone?" Xander asked, looking around.
"Yeah, this place was pretty packed yesterday," Willow agreed.
Remus raised an eyebrow at that.
"Well, we have disposed of the bodies, you know," he pointed out.
"Bodies?" Xander repeated blankly.
Then it clicked.
"Oh, you mean the demons," he said.
Giles snorted.
"Yes, Xander, the demons," he said amusedly.
Next to Tonks, Remus' eyes were dancing.
"Well, he could've meant the other wizard people. After all, it could be taken that way, if by "the bodies" he meant the-," Anya was interrupted by Xander nudging her leg with his foot.
"Xander, you said we're not supposed to have sex in front of other people," Anya said confusedly.
Xander turned red and began to mumble indistinctly. Anya leaned a little closer to him to hear what he was saying.
"Well why were you rubbing my leg, then?" she asked exasperatedly.
"To stop you from calling the old guy a serial killer," Xander snapped hurriedly.
Anya's eyes narrowed at his tone. Giles quickly stopped an oncoming argument by asking Remus, who was quietly laughing, where Dumbledore was.
"He's downstairs, repairing the wards, in the room you were in yesterday," Remus replied.
Giles nodded and went down to the basement to speak with the Headmaster.
While all of this had been going on, Buffy had been poking around the rooms.
The dull sounds of her friends' conversation followed her through the house as she went exploring. Were Harry and Ron here?
It was strange to think that once upon a time she would have known exactly where the two wizards were, and what they were doing.
She still felt it hard to believe how quickly things could change.
First, she had gone from a normal girl to a witch with a flap of wings.
Then, she had gone from normal witch to Potential Slayer in the blink of a Watcher's eye.
In that same amount of time she had gone from English to American.
She had gone from Potential to Slayer within one Slayer's last heartbeat.
From the Slayer to a Slayer with her own death.
From a Slayer to Lead Slayer with the swing of a scythe.
But could she finally go half way? Could she both Scooby and Phoenix? Could she have more then one group of friends?
Most importantly, did she want to?
She felt someone else enter the room. Heard their soft footsteps behind her; the light sound of their breathing. Could smell the light shift in the air that signified someone else's presence. No matter how clean a person was, there was a slight natural smell to them- their scent. A long time ago, she had been grossed out when Angel had tried to explain that to her. Now, her senses were sharper; everything was brighter; bolder; more distinct. It was like she was more alive, yet strangely detached.
The scent was familiar, from a time when she hadn't dreamed of the constant exhilaration she felt now. The distinct hum of power; of strength. It was always there, in the back of her mind, the power to affect change. To create things. And to destroy.
"Hey, Harry," Buffy said casually.
Harry looked surprised, though Buffy didn't know that. She still hadn't turned around.
"Er, hey 'Mione," he managed to get out.
At this, Buffy did turn around.
"It's Buffy," she said firmly.
"No, it's not," Harry said exasperatedly, "It was never Buffy. You are Hermione. Hermione is you. Why do you keep saying that it's not true?"
Buffy raised an eyebrow.
"Because it isn't," she asserted.
"Yes it is. You were born Hermione Granger, you'll die Hermione Granger. It's who you are," Harry shot at her.
"I think you'll find that I've already died as Buffy Summers. Twice, in fact. Which definitely beats my One-Death-Only record as Hermione. Buffy is me. I am Buffy. And Hermione isn't real. Not anymore," she said coolly.
This, at least, was expected. Buffy had known that Harry would try to "reason" with her the moment she had overheard her friends' plans to visit here. Which was why she knew they had to come.
They had the chance to do something good. All of them. Even Snape. If they got rid of Lord Tries Too Hard, they could save people. That was good. Very good. But Harry had to understand that. Buffy knew that he was going to ask for help- she had seen the news every day, she knew about the "unexplained disappearances" and "unsolved case" that showed up every day. There was no way the Order- what a stupid name! - could keep this up much longer.
Buffy also knew that the only way they would get anything done was if they pushed their feelings to the curb for a little while. So far, the only thing anyone had done was exclaim over her so-called "death". Yeah, that was really hard to do. Harry and the others just had to be distracted from her return. Generally, those wacky take-over-the-world types tended to do that. Unfortunately, the Order- she'd never get over Dawn asking if they, too, worshipped Joaquin- weren't exactly the Let's Do Stuff Fast club. In fact, they were more along the lines of the Our Leader's Lived Really Long, and Will Live A Lot Longer, So We Have All the Time In the World club.
"Then, I guess Hermione's friendship with me and Ron isn't real, either," Harry said.
Buffy's eyes softened.
"Nope, that's still real. You can't put a name on things like that. I should know. Would I stop being friends with Giles because he got stuck with the name Rupert?" she asked with a hopeful smile.
Harry snorted, accepting the move to more light-hearted things.
"Like you should talk. First Hermione, then Buffy? What kind of name is Buffy?" he mocked lightly.
"Mine," Buffy said defensively.
"At least it wasn't Joan," a laughing voice interrupted from the doorway.
Xander smirked at Buffy, who groaned, while Harry looked curious.
"Joan?" Harry asked.
"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" Buffy asked Xander, ignoring Harry's question.
Xander grinned at her.
"Sure ya will," he replied, "Right after we forget about Randy Giles."
"So my appointment is on the Twelfth of Never?" Buffy asked.
"Don't be late," Xander warned seriously, "Dr. Embarrassless is only taking on such a difficult case cause you saved his ass a bunch of times."
"Oh thank you! Thank you!" Buffy said sarcastically, imitating a grateful damsel in some cheesy 50's flick.
Xander tipped his imaginary hat to her.
"All in a day's work, Very Little Lady," he said, in a bad faux-John Wayne style accent.
Buffy punched him in the arm, while Harry looked at the two of them, bewildered.
"Ow!" Xander said, massaging his arm.
"You so deserved that," Buffy said complacently. To Harry, she said, "Come on, I think this afternoon's train full of crazies has moved on, judging by Wannabe Boy Wonder's show-stopping performance for us."
"Alex, we have a winner," Xander announced.
"Where are they?" Buffy asked him.
"Down in the basement with the G-man and the Almost Other G-man," Xander responded as the trio walked out the door.
"Almost G-man?" Buffy and Harry asked simultaneously.
"The Almost Gandalf," Xander explained.
"Oh," Buffy said.
Harry didn't get it, and said as much.
Unfortunately, Harry's question of "Who is Gandalf?" was posed as they reached the basement- and The Andrew Zone.
"Oh, Gandalf is like the most under-rated character in Tolkien's magnum opus. That's masterpiece, in Layawaymen's terms," Andrew began his babble.
Every Scooby within a fifty foot radius groaned. Loudly.
"Shut up, Andrew!"
Dumbledore looked on amusedly. They truly were a very strange group of people.
Giles answered his phone quickly, noticing the curious glances many of the witches and wizards gave it.
"Hello? Rupert Giles speaking," he said.
"Rupert, it's Althenea. We have a bit of a problem," the witch told him quickly.
Giles was instantly alarmed. As a general rule, the Coven members tended to avoid modern communication. In fact, the only time he remembered them contacting anyone with a phone was when they were locating Potentials to keep them safe from the First. And Althenea rarely, if ever, got that particular tone of voice. It was just screaming "I'm worried!". Althenea spent her days teaching herself and others the importance of serenity and balance, for God's sake, she did not get worked up.
With all of this in mind, Giles hurriedly asked her, "What is it?"
"There's news of an energy force gathering. Up until now it hasn't been large enough for us to gauge whether or not it is on our side. But we got a call last night from a contact in Bordeaux. She's powerful, almost as much as Willow. And she has also gotten a lock on it. What she's seen is not good. Quite the contrary, actually. And something- the Goddess only knows what- has targeted her because of that. We need to get her here. Can you send in some of the Slayers?" Althenea asked, again sounding uncharacteristically agitated, yet despite that, Giles thought he detected a slight- very slight- hint of pride in her tone, though he couldn't begin to fathom why it was there.
"No," Giles said, "Most of them are on a rather delicate assignment. However, I can send one in."
Althenea gave a little relieved sigh, sensing, as always, what he was thinking.
"Your girl?" she asked.
Giles nodded, although she couldn't see it, being half a country away.
"Yes," he confirmed, "What do you need us to do?"
The Wiccan gave him instructions and bid him farewell before hanging her phone up. Giles did the same a moment later.
He looked up at "his" children.
"Well, it seems we have to leave," he said, sounding much more casual then he felt.
The Scoobies- why had Xander dubbed them that? - were all on instant alert. Only in the case of "his girl" as Althenea had put it, she looked ready for a good fight, as did Kennedy, the ages old bloodlust filling their senses again.
And Giles had a feeling that they would get that fight.
Albus could barely contain his curiosity about the abrupt departure of the Americans and pseudo-Americans. They were such an interesting little bunch of people, although he certainly would never have expected Hermione to come to be as loyal to them as she evidently was. Well, to be honest, he wouldn't have predicted any of this, but he was quickly seeing that it just might have turned out for the best.
Then Alastor Apparated into the room, his eyes- both of them- wide and fearful, his expression that of someone who had just found out the sky was purple and pigs really could fly.
Dumbledore stared at him concernedly. When was the last time Alastor had been scared of anything? He leaned forward in his seat, causing his beard to drag on the floor.
"Alastor, what is it?" he asked his old friend.
Every other "Phoenix" as they were called in the room had their eyes fixed on Moody, uneasily anticipating the once-feared, still awe-worthy ex-Auror's answer.
"The girl is here," he gasped.
Dumbledore's eyes widened behind his half-moon spectacles. The younger Phoenixes didn't understand what Alastor meant, but the few older members in the room immediately gasped and began to panic, causing the younger one's to look about anxiously and demand answers.
Dumbledore swept out of the room, leaving it to Remus to answer the burning questions. He had much more important concerns to deal with right now. Much more important, and very grave concerns to deal with, indeed.
Alisandra Gregorovitch looked around the airport exasperatedly. Why the hell wasn't anyone there to pick her up? She was sure that a guard was supposed to have been sent for her. There was no other way she would have chanced something like this. Where could they be?
Damn it, she couldn't stay out here much longer. It was too exposed. Out of the corner of her eye, Alisandra saw a quick gleam of silver. Immediately, her mental alarms began to go off. Uh-oh.
Looking as unobtrusive as she possibly could, Sandra wove her way through the crowd of people milling about the terminal. Keep your pace measured. Look like you have a purpose. Don't let them know you've seen them. That was what she had been told to do in case of an attack. Stay in a crowded place. Don't leave public view. If you are alone, you are dead. No matter what, don't get killed.
Normally, Alisandra hated rules, but right now, she was all for them. Staying alive was very high up on her list of priorities, and she wasn't thinking about that ridiculous disco song the British had cooked up, either.
Unfortunately, she could still sense the men following her, and even worse, she could feel the malicious intent rolling off of their auras like lies off of a tramp's tongue. This was so not good. Involuntarily, her pace quickened as she tried to find the gift shop. Or one of those crowded little rooms that passed for airport restaurants. Or even a freaking bathroom. Anything to ensure her survival.
But, no, luck, and family karma, was against her. It hated her. The universe had it out for her. That was the only explanation for her life. Someone in the ever mysterious "Up There" (in capitals, no less, so you really should see the gravity of her unfortunate situation) hated Alisandra for no apparent reason, and consequently wanted her dead. Alisandra hadn't done anything to deserve it. Nothing at all. Why, she hadn't ever done anything bad in her life. Well, except for one little teeny tiny thing. Or two. Possibly three. Four? Okay, Alisandra mentally reviewed her last (and very mental, both literally and figuratively speaking) statement. She might possibly have done a few bad things. Broken a few minor rules. But, really, was that enough to make the world decide to hate you? No. Or if it was, things these days were even more screwed up then she'd thought.
Of course, she hadn't actually seen nearly enough of "the world these days" to make an accurate judgment, but still, every girl was entitled to occasional bouts of exaggeration, right? It was practically a law.
Oh shit, they were gaining on her. Oh, this was not good. Not good at all. She didn't want to die. She was way too good looking to die. Hell, she was going to die an eighteen year old virgin! How pathetic was that! And all because she had the crappiest parents in the world. She'd never met either one of them, but her mother had sent her to live in a different freaking country. How unfair was that? And it wasn't even in a normal part of the country, no, she had to live with a bunch of stupid old bats dedicated to the Goddess.
Now, Alisandra loved the Craft, how could she not? It was what she had been raised on, after all. But, she had always longed for a life like the people on the television had. Adventurous, exciting, and wonderful. They never seemed to do anything twice, while her own life was nothing but order and constancy. She had been taught that change was to be embraced and nurtured. That difference and new things were part of nature, and that they helped to ensure the continued cycle of life, death, and the world's ever flowing stream of originality.
So why couldn't that change enter her own life? It really was a silly question for Alisandra to ask herself at that particular point in time, considering her position, since she was currently being chased by some evil crazies who wanted to kill her. Still, even that was expected. Next, either the crazies catch up to and kill her, or a bunch of her fellow Wiccans create a glamour, stop time, move everyone in the airport to a pocket dimension, or just plain transfigure her pursuers so that Alisandra could escape.
Or not.
A small blonde suddenly appeared in her path, forcing Alisandra to either stop running- and by now, she was running- or risk knocking the petite woman to the floor.
"Hi there, I'm Buffy and I'll be your Slayer-y Bodyguard for today," the woman- Buffy- said in a cheerful and clearly American voice.
Alisandra blinked as Buffy- a small, blonde, stylishly dressed, American Slayer- sidestepped her and calmly walked up to her would-be attackers.
"Now, boys, you know you're supposed to play nice, right?" she asked, smiling sweetly at the one nearest her.
He just stared at her incredulously while Alisandra wondered what the hell this midget thought she was doing. Then it clicked, and the name registered in her mind. Buffy. As in Buffy Summers. Formerly The Slayer, now head of the Slayer Half of the Watcher's Council, part of the Council's Board of Directors, the girl who was rumored to have faced a hell goddess, the First, the Master, Angelus, and the Ascension of some demon or the other into a pure demon. The faintest of whispers that Alisandra had heard about this Slayer were all quite ridiculous. Marie, one of her few fellow Wiccas who was actually around the same age as Alisandra, had actually thought that this little blonde fashionista had sunk the Hellmouth in Sunnydale. Ha! Like that could happen. Everyone knew Hellmouthes were indestructible. And the little Slayer That Could clearly wasn't powerful enough or old enough to have faced half of the things people said she had.
The… well, whoever was trying to attack her, Alisandra decided to call them the Morons… So, the Morons clearly must have believed the rumors about Miss Stake For Brains, since they were all slowly backing away from her. She smiled a confident little smile that had Predator! written all over it. For a second, Alisandra would have believed the rumors, too. BubbleBrat looked scary. Like she was just itching for a fight because she knew she would win.
Pfft, as if. Slayers weren't powerful, just unnaturally strong. There was no way Brainless Buffy would be able to out-power and out-smart a bunch of wizards, warlocks, or whatever the hell they were. After all, people only sent the best to try to kill Alisandra Gregorovitch, as she would proudly tell you. But there was your average, run-of-the-mill, "superior", cocky Slayer. Always thinking with their fists, just like she had read. Really, you'd think that they would be more resourceful then that. But, then again, the way that Boffy, Biffy, Buffy, whatever her name was, girl thought was enough to explain why they had all used to die so quickly.
So, naturally, Alisandra was surprised when the Morons all turned tail and ran away as fast as they could, pushing and shoving people out of the way. And then, of all the nerve that girl had, Buffy actually pouted and whined to no one in particular,
"Aw, why'd Giles have to say no leaving the kid?"
Now, Alisandra just couldn't stand for that. She was no kid. She was an adult. Ugh, this stupid Barbie was her guard?
The world hated her.
It really really did.
What'd you guys think? I want to hear what everyone thinks about Alisandra.