I solemnly swear that I own absolutely nothing
here. Joss Whedon and his group own all characters and materials related to Buffy The Vampire Slayer
. Battlestar Galactica '03
was written and produced by Ronald D. Moore, and created by Glen A. Larson.
The entire BSG '03 loop had to start somewhere
Don't worry about a little thing like cannon--Nothing like that here. It's AU; don't take it too seriously and just enjoy. Okay?
The story takes place right after Buffy gets kicked out of her own house, by the Scoobies and Potentials. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Buffy makes a Wish that leaves her far from home. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
At the very end, a despondent Buffy walked down the dark and deserted streets of Sunnydale. She was alone--but, then again, Buffy was expecting that. Abandoned, betrayed, that sort of thing was standard Buffy fare. Merrick, Pike, her parents--Now add Dawnie, Willow, Xander . . .Dawnie, Buffy could understand . . .For all her apparent age, Dawnie was just a few years old, and a baby could be forgiven a lack of judgement. Willow? Buffy snorted in derision. Her big brain was currently on standby--It seemed to happen whenever she stood too close to Kennedy. And there was Xander . . .Buffy sighed in regret and grief, tears momentarily blurring her sight. Xander's eye--Goddamn
A breeze blew through the streets. Buffy could smell and feel the sea on it . . .She paused in the middle of the deserted blacktop. Buffy wondered--What next for her? After seven years at the receiving end of a bunch of ingrates, what comes next? She had no money, no job, no marketable skills . . .And now, no house!
Buffy felt the familiar surge of bitter, impotent, rage welling up inside her. What was she going to do?
She closed her eyes, and swallowed down the forming lump in her throat. "I wish," Buffy whispered quietly. "I wish could
be a machine. A metal thing that could fight, and think, and never feel pain . . ."
Buffy whirled around and caught sight of a grinning Vengeance demon, waving goodbye.
"Well, shi-!" Was as far as Buffy got before her personal world was cut down into darkness.
In a warehouse, within the ranks of gleaming, metal Centurions, a machine twitched. The single red sensor on its head bounced back and forth against the side walls of its sensor plate. The metal sign, hanging by a thin chain on a loop on the Centurion's shoulder, identified the unit as BAS-00322SLYR1. It flexed it's metal fingers once, raised up it's metal head and 'spoke', I really put my foot in that one, didn't I?
And Buffy Anne Summers tilted down her new metal head, and sighed. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
But People! It makes no sense!
Heh, I had to throw that in before someone else did!
I had a hyperactive bunny on the loose inside my head. It wouldn't settle down until I wrote this little drabble.
I hope you enjoyed it. This story is complete. Thanks for reading, and bye-bye!