Title : Let’s Go Round Again
Author : Booster
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Aziraphale’s been hauled back to Heaven to help deal with the backlog of souls. His first case: Ms Anya Jenkins. Part of Jinni’s 20 minutes with Anya Challenge.
Disclaimer : Buffy and the gang belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Aziraphale appears from Good Omens and belongs to Neil Gaiman and Terry Prachett.
Setting : Post season seven and “Chosen” for the Buffyverse.
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, FanFiction.Net, if anyone else wants it, just email and ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Aziraphale looked down at the caseload in front of him and groaned silently. He’d been on Earth so long now that being in heaven was actually slightly off putting to him now. He idly wondered if Crowley felt the same whenever he popped back to Hell. Still, he had a job to do now, so he’d better get on and do it.
So there had been another one of those averted apocalypses over in America again. He sighed inwardly – those Americans seemed to have one of those every year or so. He supposed it was something to do with the fast pace of living these days and their low attention spans, and longed for the days when all the evil British magicians waited politely until there was a zero at the end of the year.
Scanning the paperwork further, he saw that yes, there had been fatilities, and yes, their dispositions were indeed what Peter had lumbered him with. Apparently, Peter and the other Angels were busy dealing with the universal disruptions caused by…. His eyes widened. All the potential Slayers had been activated at once. Oh dear. He was going to be stuck up here for some time, wasn’t he?
Oh well, he might as well start with the first soul for disposal. Aziraphale concentrated hard and summoned the first soul to him: One Anya Jenkins.
The air cleared in front of his desk and a form appeared. Human, female, young, and good looking. “I want to be re-incarnated.” were the first words out of her mouth.
Right. Normally he had to explain the options available to the newly departed. This wasn’t going to go as planned, was it?
“Somewhere where I can get lots of sex.” she added as an obvious afterthought.
Aziraphale dropped his pencil. People didn’t talk to Angels like this, did they? He was sure he would have heard if things had changed, even down on Earth. “You what? But you…. I…”
Anya just looked at him matter of factly “I had lots of orgasms last time when I was alive and this time I want more.”
Recovering his pencil from under the desk, Aziraphale started making frantic notes on her file. “You certainly know what you want, and how to cut through the system.”
Anya snorted. “Pah! I was a vengeance demon for years. I tortured and did things to betraying men. I was the patroness of scorned women.” She beamed happily at the Angel, obviously expecting congratulation.
Aziraphale made a note. And underlined it. Twice.
Anya frowned, then perked up “Oh! But then I was turned human and helped save the world. Several times. That why I’m here. Make a note of that.”
Aziraphale was starting to get an idea of what to do with her now. “Okay. I’ll be sending you back to Earth now to be re-born again. Let’s see, you want lots of sex, not much danger, and I’m guessing not much to do with men.”
Anya nodded reluctantly “Well, I suppose so. Some men are very good indeed. Xander, for example, had a very long tongue…”
That was it – no details! Aziraphale concentrated hard, and Anya disappeared in a burst of smoke. Crowley had always laughed at those clouds, but he thought it added to the service. Happily smiling and glad to have been helpful, Aziraphale turned to the next departed soul on the list.
The eager father gathered round, and gazed down at his first born, proudly rubbing his wife’s side in a loving fashion. The new born Anya opened her eyes, looked around, took a deep breath and started screaming.
“What on earth is the matter with her?” said Dandelion in confusion, and backed away from the squealing young rabbit, his tail and nose both twitching. He moved forward again and tried to comfort the new-born, going goo-goo inside himself at the cuteness of her ears. “Welcome to Watership Down, little one”.
Author’s Note : Watership Down belongs to Richard Adams, of course.