6.

A big bonus of graduating Starfleet was no more roommates.

Buffy herself had been an excellent roommate, largely because she was never in the room except to sleep. The roommates she'd had were okay, although she never took, or had, the time to get to know any of them, but they were never spiteful or overbearing, they didn't try to steal her soul which was good. They accepted her as she was, Buffy the ghost, but a friendly ghost, like Casper, she was the Casper of Starfleet Academy roommates.

There were times she regretted being so unavailable, maybe it wouldn't have taken her so long to make a real friend if she had tried a little harder…but all of that was past now. Now she had a place all her own.

Taking the long way, Buffy went home to her shiny new apartment. Filtered sunshine streamed into her living room where boxes, though not many, were scattered everywhere. Only the essential items seemed to find their homes amongst the shelves and cupboards in her new place. Closing the door behind her, Buffy took off her hat, her boots, and made her way over to her cozy, squishy tan couch.

Despite Buffy's continued inability to search for the records of her family and friends, she was able to work up the courage for one: her mother. Unfortunately, she already knew how that story ended; but Buffy wasn't looking for how her mother's life story unfolded, she was looking for something to hold on to. It was from an old article, a brief profile on Joyce Summers and her work as an art gallery manager in Sunnydale. Though the newspaper editorial was short, there were pictures, two of them, that Buffy was so grateful existed. In one, her mother was standing next to a painting, her arm out as if she were explaining it's meaning to the eye of the beholder. The other was a portrait of Joyce looking straight at the camera – smiling, beautiful, warm, just as Buffy remembered her. It was like finding treasure in the desert and she immediately printed out both photographs and the article, framing each one and placing them throughout her living room.

Buffy looked at the frame in front of her. Resting on a clear table was her mother, frozen in time, staring back at her. Buffy felt it then, how despite Pike's presence, she was so very alone. She really wished her mother had been there. She would've shown up with a bouquet of balloons and made a fuss of how proud she was. They would've spent time with her friends and then she would've cooked Buffy's favorite meal, finishing it off with a fattening dessert. It would've been nice, homey. It would've been perfect.

"I really wish you could've been there, mom," she said to an empty apartment, her throat thickening with emotion. "It would've…god, I miss…I wish you were here…"

Memories of all that was and thoughts of what could never be swirled her mind. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life and yet…

Buffy took a deep breath and settled herself. She had a trip to take and a dinner to get to before she could let her emotions overwhelm her. Her breakdown would just have to wait.

She stared at her mother's picture a little bit longer, pausing in remembrance, in grief, and then rose from the couch.

The ads were right, jeans never go out of style, even into the twenty-third century. Buffy was wearing her very favorite pair, along with a basic tee and basic boots. The theme here was basic as her closet had greatly suffered in anything else the last couple of years. But at least it wasn't a Starfleet uniform. That would've caught some unwanted stares while walking around Sunnydale.

Maple Court. Sunnydale's only happening main street was slightly happening at the moment. People were milling around, walking in or out of the movie theatre, eating their meals in restaurants, and in Buffy's case, having some coffee at the previously known Espresso Pump, which was now a Starbucks, because of course it was.

Buffy hadn't been in Sunnydale in years. She might've kept up with the news, but it wasn't the same. For one thing, she wasn't sure if Olive was still alive – and part of her was afraid to find out. It was rare for a slayer to live longer than a few months, Buffy being one of the exceptions for a whole variety of different reasons. Part of her wished she would've talked to Olive, stayed behind, helped, maybe picked up where she left off, slaying vampires and demons in Sunnydale. It would've been so easy.

But the thought of it sounded wrong. It wouldn't have been the same. She'd be trying to fit herself into someone else's life, one that didn't belong to her. Buffy's time as reining slayer had passed and to impede on the current slayer was not part of her destiny.

Buffy finished her latte and grabbed another one before heading out. She walked down Maple and into the bad side of town. The Bronze was still the Bronze, still kicking, from what she could see at least. It wasn't open just yet, but Buffy had no desire to wait around and go inside, taking a stroll past it was good enough for her. She then wandered into the residential area of the no longer 'one Starbucks town' of Sunnydale. She walked past the new high school and it's greedy Hellmouth. Past the place Giles used to live. Past the houses of Willow and Xander. And to the house she used to call home.

She stood across the street and eyed the house that still looked the same. All the lights were on. Two cars parked out front. Buffy didn't know who, or how many, lived there, but it was nice that it wasn't empty. It was comforting that it was still a home for someone. She wondered how her room had changed and if the floorboard in the hallway still squeaked. Hopefully whoever lived there now had better water pressure then they did and that the hot water didn't run out after two showers. And hopefully the house felt as safe for them as it did for her once upon a time.

With a trail of memories behind her, Buffy continued her scenic walk. She had one more stop to make.

Buffy had seen it the last time she was here and it was…surreal.

Her tombstone.

Small, plain sitting in Sunnydale Cemetery.

And it was still there.

BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS

1981-2001

BELOVED SISTER

DEVOTED FRIEND

SHE SAVED THE WORLD

A LOT

After getting over the profound shock, Buffy couldn't help but question its existence. There was no body buried beneath it. No real need to have a plot reserved for an empty parking spot. She pondered about this while sitting on her grave on that initial first meeting. Was it morbid? Yes. But Buffy's relationship with death wasn't exactly normal. She understood it in a way many others couldn't. She had become uncomfortably familiar with death and maybe that's how she came to the conclusion of why her loved ones erected a barren memorial. Closure. Something physical to remember her by. Something they needed to also let go. A physical manifestation that Buffy Summers, the one they knew, was, for all intents and purposes, dead…at least the 2.0 version of her, the 3.0 version was currently standing over her grave, contemplating the craziness of her many lives.

"You know, I always knew I would die young," she said aloud to a tombstone in an empty cemetery. "Tried not to think about it too much, but…it was always there. Like that tickle you get when you need to sneeze, you feel it coming, but then you don't actually sneeze. Which, by the way, how annoying is that…anyway, the whole dying thing was a given. I mean I was literally out every night hunting monsters. Death was part of the gig…but I never really thought about how I would live…if I had the chance. Like what would've happened if I graduated college? Met some nice guy who didn't mind the destiny thing? Had a family…become an actual person…and not the crazy lady who talked to her own headstone in a cemetery…"

Buffy couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. What the hell was her life? Who made the rules and then decided to change them? How did she go from fifteen and a sophomore in high school with a raging social life to graves and portals, blackholes and starships.

Buffy sighed and drank the final dredges of her cold latte. If she'd learned one thing in her lifetimes it was that there was no use trying to understand destiny and all its pieces that never seemed to make much sense. No matter why the Powers that Be decided to pull, twist, and snap the strings of fate, this was her life now, the old Buffy was metaphorically buried. There was nothing for her to hold onto anymore, Sunnydale was no longer home.

The light was dimming and the sun was setting. Buffy could feel her supernatural senses begin to sharpen, telling her to beware, to hunt, to slay…but it wasn't her job anymore. Slayer Buffy was gone – and current Buffy had a shiny new Starfleet career to look forward to.

It was time for her to go.

A surprising lump in her throat appeared as she looked at her grave for a final time. Reaching out, she gently smoothed her hand over the sun-warmed headstone.

Goodbye, Buffy.

A deep breath and that was that. Buffy turned and walked away. She didn't want to be late for dinner and Pike had promised her all the pasta she could eat.

And that was definitely a future she looked forward to.

A/N: I just want to thank everyone, and anyone, who's read the story so far. I appreciate every read, comment, like, that's come. As an anxious, amateur writer it makes me so happy to know that it's being read by people at all. Seriously just thank you, thank you, thank you!

Also, wanted to say that I deeply appreciate everyone hanging in there during these early chapters. I wanted to flesh out Buffy's character a bit in this brand new world before the story transitions into the movie (which will start in the next chapter). Thank you again, so very, very much!