: Joss created Buffy
. Discworld and everything in came from the beautiful mind of Sir Terry Pratchett. I'm just playing with their toys for a bit.
Buffy sighed. It had been an interesting day. Up until the mojo mishap, it had been going pretty well. But the misfire of that spell had been a big one. She had no idea where she was, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t Earth. She’d been cautiously hopeful when she’d heard one guy mention magic, but things had gone rapidly downhill from there.
She couldn’t pop into another dimension somewhere nice and remote. No, Buffy had to pop into the backyard of the main police station. Watch station. Whatever! Her innate distrust of police combined with their innate distrust of random women popping into existence with no good explanation for how they’d gotten there had not been a good combination.
Her plea to be taken to whatever wielders of magic there were in this city had received a stern nod.
“I’ll take it under consideration, ma’am, but at this time of night, it’s wiser not to wake a wizard. I think you’d best just spend the night here.”
The policeman, a Captain Carrot- and boy, should he be steamed at his parents, saddling him with a name like that- had been a nice enough guy. Just a bit bewildered by who she was and how she’d gotten there. Not that Buffy blamed him. The best she could do was shrug and say magic. She sure hoped the wizards here were up to snuff. She didn’t fancy spending too many nights in a jail cell, even if it was for her own protection.
She could break out, of course. But that would probably complicate matters. It wasn’t as if it was a bad jail. It was clean, and they’d given her a nice mattress. Unfortunately, the company wasn’t so great. The second cell over currently contained a pair of merry drunks who couldn’t stand, but hadn’t stopped singing since they’d been hauled in.
It hadn’t been so bad at first, but the song seemed to have an endless number of verses, and even the guard outside the cells was starting to get a glassy-eyed look that suggested her fondest wish involved both men and a lot of duct tape. Buffy couldn’t take it anymore. She had ask before the guard snapped.
“Hey, guys, I have a question!”
The first drunk was too into the song to stop entirely, but the second one looked at her with a closed mouth and a cheerful expression she took to mean ‘go ahead’.
“Why would you want to bugger a hedgehog anyway?”