Alternate ending to P&S where Obi-Wan was the one to follow Buffy, and how they are now trying to adjust to their lives.Disclaimer:
I own nothing. Joss owns all things Buffy. George owns all things Star Wars.AN:
Okay, this is a birthday prompt made by Muse-y. The prompt she issued was to use the song by 10000 Maniacs song Because the Night and it couldn’t take place in a dream or alternate state of mind kind of thing. That threw me for a loop, but I think this should work. Because, it gives me a chance to play with the ‘what if’ angle. That being said, it is a off-shoot of Phantoms and Slayers, so you probably want to be familiar with that to read this, but I’ll try to make it as newbie friendly as possible.
And, yes, Musey, I do realize how very, very, very late this is. My apologies.
Obi-Wan coughed as he hit the ground hard on his back. From somewhere nearby, he thought he heard Buffy yell to Faith, but it was rather hard to make out exactly what she said when the demon he had been fighting leaned in close to his face and let out a deafening - not to mention rancid - victory howl.
Life in Buffy’s dimension was...interesting. And confusing. And more than a bit troublesome in many ways; demons, vampires, primitive technology, and lace-up sneakers.
Really, Obi-Wan couldn’t see how such inconvenient footwear could be so popular among the human species of this planet. Figuring out how they tied them had been simple enough, but the Force-forsaken things never wanted to stay that way no matter what he did. How he wished he still had his boots, but that Farlin demon secretions had ruined them, and his meager earnings from the Magic Box meant he could not afford him to buy replacements. So, along with blue jeans, T-shirts, and light jackets, Obi-Wan now had to suffer with this latest cheap pair of clothing in order to ‘fit in’ better with Buffy’s society.
When Giles asked how he managed to let this hairy demon get the better of him, he would tell him it was because he tripped. He would, however, be keeping the fact that it was because of his own shoelaces to himself.
Once it finished with its howling, the demon drew its lips back in a predatory smile, revealing two rows of very sharp teeth.
Yes, he would most definitely be looking into alternative sources of footwear come morning.
Forcing himself not to think about what those red specks caught between its teeth where, Obi-Wan grabbed one of the thing’s ankles and pulled it forward. Top heavy, the creature easily overbalanced and went crashing to the ground with a pronounced ‘umph.’ Not wasting time, Obi-Wan rolled over and then shot to his feet. He may not be able to draw from the Force here as he was able to back home, but he was still able to move far quicker than a normal human being, which he found was always good when it came to fighting demons.
Jumping up onto its hind legs, it growled and swiftly charged forward. Obi-Wan managed to move aside just as its snapped its jaw shut where he had been standing. He didn’t, however, managed to avoid its razor claw before it came around and slashed his arm and chest. It was a superficial wound, really, but enough to momentarily distract his concentration. This was enough time for the creature turn on him again, it now having become enticed by the smell of fresh blood. Opening its jaw once more, it snout shot at his throat.
Obi-Wan jumped at the pop and yelp as the creature suddenly stopped its attack. The thing took an unsteady step backwards and, still growling, swayed on its legs before finally falling to the ground.
Buffy stood off to the side, lowering the tranquilizer gun she had brought with them. The creature she and Faith had battled laid still except for its panting breaths behind her. Faith knelt next to it and appeared to check its vital signs, but took the time to admire Buffy’s handy work.
“Nice shot, B.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Buffy said with a smile.
Her smile slipped, however, when she caught a glance of Obi-Wan in the bright moonlight. Slipping the strap of the weapon over her shoulder, she hurried to him and immediately began to check the wounds.
“Are you okay? What happened?” He winced when she touched a particularly sore spot, which caused her to look up. “It didn’t bite you, did it?”
“No, no. It’s just a scratch.” Covering her prying hand with own, he gently pulled her away and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m fine.”
She pressed her lips and he could tell that she didn’t quite believe him, but then she hardly ever did when he hurt himself on patrol. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, he knew that. The concern came from his lack of knowledge of what these creatures were and what they could do to him with their bites or blood. Not that she always knew what they could do, either, but for some reason she seemed to believe that whatever it was she could handle because she was the Slayer. He, on the other hand, was just a stranded Jedi, which somehow made him less capable in her eyes it seemed.
“It doesn’t look like Cujo took a bite out of him,” Faith said, appearing behind Buffy and trying to get a look at Obi-Wan’s wounds for herself.
Buffy instantly dropped his hand and moved over to the creature she had shot. Faith smiled at him and tapped him ‘lightly’ on his uninjured shoulder.
“Congratulations, Benjy, you made it through your first encounter with a werewolf without managin’ to get yourself knocked unconscious or turned into one.” Turning back to the unconscious creature, he thought her heard Faith mutter, “At least you got the traditional Scooby celebration.”
“Yes, well, hurrah for me,” he said dryly, flexing the muscles in his injured arm. He briefly wondered what she meant by her last comment, but his thoughts were interrupted.
“Hey, guys,” Buffy said, “how about a little help with the pound puppies?” It never ceased to amaze Obi-Wan how she could make a polite request sound like an order.
“Yeah, yeah,” Faith said.
Hefting up one of the ‘werewolves’ by the shoulders, Faith began to drag it back towards the crypt that had a large cage already set up for this sort of thing. Obi-Wan went to help Buffy with the other. She didn’t really need his help. She was stronger than him and had more experience with dealing with these creatures than he had.
Still, after she saved him from being bit or killed by one these things, so it seemed like the polite thing to do.
Obi-Wan smiled politely as Joyce placed a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of him before she set about trying to find the bag of tiny marshmallows. In all honesty, he couldn’t stand the little sticky puffs of sugar in his drink, but when she would offer them to him, he couldn’t find it in himself to refuse her. In fact, it seemed he rather had a problem doing that when it came to any Summers women. It was a matter he refused to investigate further into finding the reasoning behind.
After depositing the pair of werewolves in the old cage the Scoobies had set up in a local crypt - and securing them thoroughly so that they couldn’t harm one another upon awaking - Buffy had dragged him back to her home. She had told him it was because she wanted to check and clean the wounds he had sustained that evening. Obi-Wan had a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with the fact that she wanted to change before dragging him out once again. The ‘gang’, as it would seem, was waiting at the Bronze for them and, apparently, the outfit Buffy had worn for patrol would not do for a night of partying with her friends.
Obi-Wan was rather used to these stop for a change of clothes. The Force knew she did it often enough when they were back home. He nor she saw any reason for her to change her ways just because she was back in Sunnydale.
Besides, it gave him time to get to know Buffy’s mother, a lady - he wasn’t shamed to say - he was becoming rather quite fond of talking too.
“Sorry,” Joyce said, taking her seat on the stool next to his, “I can’t seem to find the marshmallows.”
Obi-Wan smiled tightly. He was glad that she had not noticed him ‘accidentally’ dropping the sticky-sugar into the bin the last time he had been over, though he did feel sort of guilty. Not guilty enough to tell her or apologies, but guilty enough.
“That’s alright,” he said. “Thank you, anyway.”
Joyce nodded, picked up her mug, and took a sip of her tea. Obi-Wan saw her eyes flicker towards his injured arm that was now covered in a fresh long-sleeved shirt that Joyce herself had provided. After seeing it for herself, she knew it was a superficial wound, but Obi-Wan had known Joyce long enough to know that that didn’t matter. Joyce was a mother, and that maternal instinct did not limit itself to her offspring only.
“I’m fine, Joyce.”
“Did I say anything?” she asked, holding up her mug almost in a defensive manner.
“No, but even I could hear you thinking it all the way over here and I don’t have the whole ‘Jedi’ thing going for me like Benny here does.”
Grinning, Buffy bounced into the kitchen. The stylish - yet functional - outfit she had worn for patrol had been replaced by something that Obi-Wan was sure at one time had meant to resemble a dress, but now only appeared on this side of not being arrested for being worn out into public. She had been shopping with Faith again, Obi-Wan realized with a sigh. Why couldn’t Buffy stick to buying clothes with Willow and Tara instead? At least then she would buy outfits that made sure she was at least properly covered.
Not to mention didn’t take five years off his life.
And he just thought that the outfits she had to wear on their last mission were bad.
Not seeming to notice - or care - of his disapproval of her outfit, Buffy plucked the mug out of his hands and began to drink from it, careful not smug her makeup. He was never quite sure why Buffy thought that everything that he ate or drink belonged to her as well, but he long ago given up asking her to stop. She wasn’t going too and, if he were honest, he didn’t mind all that much.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Joyce smile at them, but she turned away to place her own mug in the sink. “So, are you two heading out to the Bronze?”
“Yup,” Buffy said, popping the ‘p’. “We’re meeting the guys there. We’re going to celebrate that Ben didn’t, you know, get eaten tonight.”
With Joyce’s back still to them, Buffy grinned mischievously at Obi-Wan. It was a grin that he had learned to fear over the years and wonder what exactly she had done and how exactly it was going to embarrass him.
“And it’s his birthday.”
Buffy continued grin. Obi-Wan continued to stare.
Joyce turned around sharply in surprise. “It is?”
Obi-Wan blinked and muttered to himself, “That’s exactly what I want to know.”