Sitting together at the main conference table in the New Council’s castle, Dawn and Xander were enjoyably listening to Andrew Well’s latest attempt at suicide by stupidity. Earnestly listing all the problems Buffy Summers was now going to experience due to her recent bodily alterations, the only survivor of the inept Sunnydale supervillain team known as the Trio somehow managed to miss during his interminable lecturing the increasingly hostile Look of Death being sent his way by this specific woman seated at the end of their table. Even when he mentioned Buffy no longer had any hope of easily finding any ladies’ shoes which would presently fit her oversized feet and would probably be forced to wear men’s footwear from now on instead, Andrew continued to drone on while paying no heed to how the Slayer began to thoughtfully caress the head of her new hammer, as if eager to test its skull-cracking abilities upon a certain geek.
Andrew was finally cut off when a glowering Buffy dressed in the biggest set of women’s sweats located after a quick search throughout the entire castle now abruptly stood up from her chair, to then send a dirty look around the entire room. Brusquely muttering, “’Scuse me,” Buffy started to leave, only to halt in mid-turn and return to the table, where she gently laid Prezzy onto the top of this piece of furniture. Ignoring all there now interestedly watching her, Buffy then stalked out of the conference room, leaving Andrew with his mouth wide open in mid-sentence.
Dawn bemusedly eyed the war hammer her sister had left behind, the first time Buffy had been separated from this new weapon since she’d acquired it from nobody other than Thor, the Norse god of thunder. Gleaming highlights from the room’s chandelier sparkled along the entire shiny length of the unearthly metal of this incredible object given by an Avenger to honor a young woman. The hammer laid solidly upon the tabletop, looking as if anyone could use it. Which was completely untrue, Dawn reflected. Some hasty experimentation a few minutes earlier had shown that nobody else, not even the other Slayers around, could lift or even move Buffy’s latest…prezzy.
Snickering to herself over how deeply Giles had groaned out loud over being informed just what
his once-and-always Slayer had christened her newest foe-clouting toy, Dawn gleefully observed at the head of the table this former Sunnydale High librarian was just barely holding onto his patience while Andrew pestered him about all the trouble they were going to have while going through channels to change Buffy’s various identification document details. Even those normally brain-dead bureaucrats at the DMV might feel a faint touch of curiosity about one of their patrons having to get a new driver’s license after growing a foot taller--
The Key became distracted then by Xander’s mumbling under his breath becoming louder. Peeking over at the man next to herself, Dawn saw the one-eyed California native was fixedly looking at his wristwatch while counting down, “--fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty--”
A flash of white light burst throughout the conference room, though all those around the table there were more shocked by the muffled female shriek suddenly coming from up the corridor outside the room. Where, come to think of it, a shocked Dawn realized, were the building restrooms on this floor--
Putting down his arm, Xander gave one glance at where a stylish walking stick now rested on the tabletop where Buffy’s hammer had been a moment before, to then send his most evil smirk at where both Andrew and Giles were staring at this latest example of the enchantment laid by Thor upon his gift. Jovially calling out to a bewildered fellow Sunnydale survivor, Xander caroled, “Andy, ol’ pal, you better run like hell. Now that she’s changed back to her old self, you’ve got only a few seconds before Buffy pulls up her pants and hunts you down -- well, maybe a little longer if she actually fell in--”
“Why would she blame me?!
” yelped Andrew, a terrified expression flashing over his face despite his protest. He went on frantically, with growing outrage creeping in also, “You’re the one who didn’t warn her what might happen!”
A deadpan Xander noted, “Hey, which of us was the only guy to piss her off in the last couple of minutes? Plus, I’m gonna point at you when she comes squishing in--”
The other door at the far side of the conference room slammed open before Xander could finish, leaving the room empty of Andrew’s presence, save for a laughing Dawn, a sighing Giles, and a grinning man who’d at last accomplished a dearly-yearned payback burn.
Author’s Note: This little omake is in response to the reviews sent in for this story by Senko and evilredknight, who brought up some useful objections to Asgardian Buffy. Thanks for sharing, and inspiring this!