Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Whedon and Stargate: SG-1 belongs to the Sci-Fi channel.
Spoilers: All Seven for Buffy and Season One for SG-1.
A/N: Written for a challenge issued by Polgara for her yahoo group. Using a B movie title, write a fic based around the title or something close like that.
Since the moment that she had been called at the tender and innocent age of 15, Buffy Summers life have been moved to Earth’s grand narrative. Despite her desperate attempts otherwise, she had still lost her individual narrative. She had lost herself without realizing it and it was empathetically and undeniably her fault.
Tightening her grip on the scythe’s handle, Buffy brought it down viciously upon her enemies head. A twisted-satisfying crunch reached her ears. Green blood spurted, landing in thin and dripping lines across her right cheek and clothes.
Killing her enemies certainly alleviated some of her self-guilt and bitterness. For eight years, she had unknowingly sabotaged her own life – her happiness – in favor of the world and her friends’ continued survival. She had continued her sacrifices even after Willow had woken all the potentials.
Then the revelation about the Ancients, the Stargate, and that damned prophecy, a prophecy that she couldn’t escape or manipulate to create an end to her liking. The prophecy was not about any old Slayer but a prophecy about her, Buffy Summers, the Chosen One. No other Slayers could fill the role or take her place. No, she had started it by dying then coming back, the first time with Xander’s help.
With that action she had become the Last of the First Line and the Mother of the Second Line. She was the Alpha and the Omega. The End and the Beginning. She was the Chosen One by the Ancients. Once again. She stood alone against, not only against the Darkness of Earth, but the Darkness of the Universe.
Her chance at seizing and owning her personal narrative had disappeared in a heartbeat. Then she had met Colonel Jack O’Neill. They had been dancing around each other for two years, both too dedicated and busy ensuring the safety and survival of Earth and in her case the universe.
“Damnit! Summers! Pay attention,” Jack snapped as he shot a Goa’uld in the head that had been sneaking up on the distracted Slayer.
Spinning, Buffy forced the scythe up through a large black and red demon that was advancing on them from their right flank.
“Don’t tell me what the hell to do O’Neill. I’ve been doing world savage gig for a lot longer than you,” Buffy snapped back.
Their conversations with one another either existed of snarkage, snapage or they fumbled their words with a great amount fluster and a surprising amount of shyness. One of them had to make the first move, but neither was brave enough or didn’t know how to take that last step. They couldn’t be friends, so they had to settle with being people-in-arms and a painful amount of longing.
Buffy couldn’t do it anymore. The snarkiness. The fumbling. The longing. She would never be done. The grand narrative would always overtake her individual narrative. But she could, no she would, fit her individual narrative into the grand narrative. And Jack was a part of it; no doubt, the Air Force Colonel was an undeniable part of her life. First, she had to make a promise to Jack.
Reaching out, she roughly grabbed Jack and spun him into her personal space. Breathing deeply and focusing, Buffy created a protective psychic shield around them.
“Summers . . .”
“Shut up and don’t say a word until I’m done,” Buffy commanded and placed a hand over the stunned colonel’s mouth. “I’m tired of us dancing around each other. We’ve want each other. We should have each other. I know that we’re busy, but just because we have to save Earth only an almost-yearly basis doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t grab our happiness while we can. I’m grabbing my happiness. I’m grabbing you and I’m not going to let you go.”
“Angel and Spike,” prompted a stunned Jack.
“I cannot kick them completely out of my life. They’re too important to what we do. But I can make it clear to them that they don’t stand a chance. You’re my one. I chose you. Once the battles done, I’ll tell them to go. I’ll never stop loving them, Jack, but I’m in love with you,” Buffy said.
“You’ll tell those monsters to a go-go for me? You’ve denied your friends of eight years, but you’ll do it for me?”
“Yes. I’ll tell them to vamoose for you, only you.”
“We’ll settle everything after the battle. Oh and Summers, when we get back to Earth, we’re going ring shopping.”