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Hero?

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Summary: Willow tries out a spell to create portals, and Andrew interrupts. Challenge Response.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Star Wars > GeneralColdhandsFR1311,7481132,19428 Aug 0828 Aug 08Yes
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am making no money from this.

Response to a challenge by MistofRainbows: Andrew the geek becomes the hero

Challenge text:

I've read too many Star Wars crosses lately. This idea is starting to fester in my brain but I have too much to do right now to write it.

I'd like to see a nice Star Wars crossover where Andrew, Xander or some other character with no real special powers shoots Senator Palpatine. (And kills him thus adverting the whole Darth Vader mess)

Either the Scoobies have knowledge of the Star Wars universe and shooting him isn't an accident or they don't and it is an accident.

Extra points if he falls face first into the mud or makes some stupid comment about how he didn't foresee this.




“Okay, what comes next?”

“Now we pour the sacred salts onto the circle.”

Dawn obediently tipped the fat little jar full of powdered red salt over until it drizzled out onto the wide circle traced in chalk on the carpet. Buffy had only allowed this because Willow had begged and promised to clean it all up herself. It was an experiment she’d wanted to try for ages, and since things had been relatively quiet in Cleveland, and it was summer, she’d finally seen her chance. The spell took two to cast, though, so she’d recruited a very excited Dawn for this exercise in spellcraft. Buffy didn’t know about this part, or she might have objected no matter what assurances Willow made.

The salt sizzled within the circle as it ought. Willow checked her instructions again, confirming everything was done in the right way. The two of them sat opposite each other outside the circle in a small bright room on the east side of the complex. The whole area had been bought and the complex constructed with money “liberated” from old Council funds that had been tied up in land and ventures. This was where the biggest of the new Council’s libraries was, hidden beneath it so even if they were bombed the information would survive in the vaults sealed so only one of their own could get into them. They were taking no chances with their books; the loss of the old Council Headquarters had been even more enormous than they first thought, so many rare and often unique sources destroyed in one blow. That had been the driving force behind splitting up their resources and scattering them across the world.

This particular location was also a training ground for all manner of the council’s agents. The “East Wing” of the sprawling complex of multiple connected buildings was reserved for the practitioners of magic to keep mystical mistakes from interfering with other training. The other areas were the “North Wing,” where watchers or anyone else interested in learning about research and demonology went, “The Dungeons” was the place Slayers trained where they could go all-out without worrying about someone walking in and getting an ax in the face (whether that had ever actually happened at the previous location was still debated, since grunfugr demons kept most of their brains somewhere in their lumpy torsos), and after several arguments over its necessity, gun use was taught under strict supervision at “the Range.”

All the windows had been opened, and a pleasant breeze swept in and out of the cozy little room in the East Wing. Willow consulted the instructions she’d drawn up over several months to remind herself what the next part of the spell entailed.

She grimaced. “Essence of frog?”

“Got it,” Dawn said, holding up the jug full of a slimy, yellow-green substance.

That was the drawback to being a witch; too many spells needed frog parts to work. Why a portal called for it was anyone’s guess. She’d have thought it would require, oh, enchanted crystals, water from a glowing pond (done by mixing a phosphorescent agent into the liquid), or a salamander’s tongue. But nope, she got frogs.

Opening portals was easy compared to creating them. Big, permanent ones needed massive amounts of power in their initial construction, usually from blood magic. She and Dawn were just making a temporary one, meant to stay up for five minutes at most. Willow wanted to find out if she could do it, temporary portals would be infinitely useful in emergencies, or if it was easier than she expected, just for popping in on her friends when they were abroad. She hadn’t told that to Buffy either.

“We need to,” Willow gulped, “To spread it over our hands, and then join them around the circle.”

Dawn scooped out a goop-y handful and rubbed her hands together. Willow did the same, shuddering at the feel of it on her skin. She spread her arms widely, curving as the circle did, and clasped Dawn’s hands.

This part they had both memorized. Dawn because she had a fantastic memory for languages, and Willow because she didn’t want anything to go wrong after she wiped frog guts all over her hands. They recited a short phrase in Latin over and over, each faster, more heated. She could feel power building just in front of her, and concentrated on the image in her mind of the headquarters in Rio where she meant the other end of the portal to appear.

The image wavered as some inconsiderate person trampled up the stairs with all the noise of a herd of elephants. She focused harder, trying to ignore the distraction.

“WILLOW! XANDER WON’T LET ME USE THE SNIPER RIFLE!” Andrew burst into the room. “EVEN THOUGH I PRACTICED AND PRACTICED WITH THE TRANQUILIZER GUN, HE WON’T LET ME!”

Dawn squeezed Willow’s hands involuntarily in surprise, the frog juice squelching disgustingly against her palms. The image of the Rio HQ vanished. In its place, all Willow could picture were little frog men with horrible whiny voices. Power exploded in the circle.

Willow screamed.

She was face to face with a nightmare! He looked like a repulsive cross-breed between a man and a frog, with rough green skin and stubby little fingers clutching a knobby wooden cane. She tumbled back, trying to get as far from it as possible, even as her limbs shook and refused to obey.

“Get back here you little twerp!” Xander yelled as he charged in after said twerp. He stumbled to a halt as he saw the little round window floating a few feet above the floor. “Whoa. What the? Sith!”

Andrew shrieked, high and loud. Willow tried to look around without taking her eyes of the frogman. Were there more of them!? There was a bang just behind her, and she felt something whizz over her head. The frog whipped around and scampered away much faster than she’d thought possible.

And then Xander was by her side, pulling her up. She held on tight to his arm, his presence beside her calming her enough to get control over her body again. Xander would protect her from the frogspawn.

“Make the froggy go away, please,” she mumbled into his neck.

“Willow.” Xander’s voice sounded strained.

She lifted her head. He was staring at the portal in disbelief.

“That’s Yoda.”

Willow looked through the little glowing window, and sure enough, there he was, the little green frog man from the Star Wars movies who’d frightened her ever since she’d seen Empire with Xander when she was six years old. He and other taller aliens and humans in brown robes were grouped around a big desk in a very familiar room.

“Is that?” she asked, staring herself.

“The Supreme Chancellor’s office from the prequels,” Dawn said from Willow’s other side. She must have come around while Willow was distracted. Her arms were crossed and she was watching the people on the other side of the portal with great interest.

“What was that noise? I heard…”

“That was a rifle. Andrew freaked and shot that white-haired guy,” Dawn told her patiently.

Willow nodded numbly. The guys must have been at the Range, practicing. She'd heard Andrew complaining a few days ago that he ought to know how to shoot the tranquilizer in case the werewolves that stayed in the Dungeons during the full moon got loose, but he wasn't supposed to be able to get his hands on anything more lethal. The weapons cabinets were all warded against him in the Range, he needed someone else to get them out for him. She'd thought everyone knew better than to do that.

Then she smacked her forehead as it occurred to her. Xander, she knew, was trying to renew his familiarity with guns to keep the soldier memories from fading completely. Once the weapons were out of the warded compartments, Andrew could use them.

A hysterical laugh made them all jump.

Andrew laughed again, an expression of pure terror on his face. “I shot the sith! I’m a hero!”

“Hero you are not!”

Yoda made his way laboriously over to the portal, jabbing his cane at Andrew. “Killed the Chancellor, you have.”

“He was the Sith lord,” Xander said before Andrew could open his mouth. The tips of the little old Jedi’s ears twitched, perhaps in surprise.

The portal chose that moment to collapse in on itself, which, with everything that had happened, Willow decided to consider an opportune moment. The Jedi standing around the dead Chancellor with a hole torn through his chest had been starting to come out of their shock. She sighed. At least she knew the portal spell would work, but somehow she didn’t think she’d be “popping in” on anyone for a long while.

“Alright, Xander,” Willow ordered, “Get Andrew out of here before he spends the rest of his life eating acorns.” Andrew whimpered. The look Willow gave him was devoid of any sympathy whatsoever. Xander took him by the arm and pulled him bodily out of the room, still looking shell-shocked.

She turned to Dawn. “Go tell Giles Andrew’s caused another intergalactic incident.”

Dawn nodded and was out the door in an instant, though Willow hoped she stopped to wash her hands before actually telling Giles.

She eyed the carpet. There was salt and chalk, and somehow the essence of frog had gotten knocked over and was soaking into the fabric. She decided she hated the color. They should get a new carpet. Maybe yellow.



Read and Review! The shooting of Palpatine can be viewed both as an accident or done on purpose. Andrew freaked, but consciously pulled the trigger.

The End

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