Disclaimer: All of characters here are Whedon's.
The day when the Queen B had finally went, taking Big Daddy Willkins with her, is the one day forever etched across my memory.
After all, I hadn’t had such a good private laugh since I was born. Hilarious!
My worst enemy doing the heroic self-sacrifice to save the world is good clean fun enough - just ask any villain, but the fact that she took-down my only superior in Sunnydale was even better. For our entire father-daughter act it was only a matter of time till Willkins and I was at each other's throats, and since he was to be the great Linnorm Olvikian it was clear who was going to lose.
Until Queen B stepped in, and like the deluded hero she fancied herself to be, blew Big Daddy sky-high along with herself. And all of her little sidekicks just stood there, gaping, like the lemmings they were. Well, not all. A couple of ‘em - old boy Angel and good ol’ Wesley took-off and were out of Sunnydale before I could say “Yes!!!” (Currently they’re apparently settled in LA, playing detective or something. As long as they don’t bother me, I let them live.) But the rest of them, but the rest... They all stared mutely at the sight...until they finally turned around looking like they’ve eaten three million aphids each! I swear, even when back in Boston, old Scythia had dropped dead, I hadn’t seen such sanctimonious visages even on her funeral repast.
So anyways, they turn around and little boy X goes to confront me! Imagine that - him confronting me!
As if this was ever in my interests. I slid away through the shadows before he even came to where I was, and allowed him to act like a fool by confronting some complete stranger. But - that’s Xander. He was a fool even on his own.
So, anyways. Several days pass, and what do the amazing scoobies do while I am gathering my forces and preparing to deal with Big Daddy’s last joke on me - the Initiative? They do squat but some half-hearted patrolling, apparently stalling time until the big heads in the Watchers’ Council will do something.
Yes, we are talking about the guys who gave Buffy that fine little sweet-16 birthday party, but do the Scoobies remember this? No! They stall.
Now Mrs. S - this was another story. She had hanged around with me for some time, and even got her life saved by me - once, and we decided never to tell this to Buffy, but then again, this is pointless, now that B’s dead - and so she had an idea where to find me. She was also smart enough not to contact her dead daughter’s posse and went-on to confront me herself. What can I say? This is a fine instance of overreaching your capabilities. What could I do? I turn to Amy, and the young Lamia fixed Mrs. S in the way that she knew and sent her off into the world on some ship. Now hopefully, Mrs. S will start her new life somewhere conveniently far enough from me - like on the Hawaii or Australia.
But Buff’s old gang... they were another story. They got from me no slack. Giles and Xander were the first to go (after Mrs. S did, technically). The two of them just got happily drunk into the oblivion, and that was the end of that. I had men keeping a watch on their graves - you never know with suicides, and all vurdalakos are crazy, especially those who went mad before they died - but no. Xander and Giles didn’t even get high enough merit to be undead. Poor them. Excuse me while I gag.
Old Oz-mosis was next. I think something in his brain went snap, and he fled into the wild, completely wolfed-out, acting like some hydrophobic dingo. I had him found a short while later, and shot with silver bullets. What? Ever since Kakistos had hired Lorenzo Tattaglia to have a hit on me back in Boston I treat my werewolves with an ounce of suspicion, even Veruca. Especially Veruca.
So that only left Cordelia and Willow, and they were largely in self-denial by then. They almost turned to prostitution, but... I sort-of introduced Willow to Tara. What can I say? I took pity on the redhead. She was pathetic enough as it was. But Tara and her butch attitude took care of that. Willow was soon more than enough happy to play the little housewife to Tara, caring little about anything else. Admittedly, that went straight to Tara’s ego, and she tried to go all energy vampire on me, but she and I had a conversation among plenty of witnesses, and she soon realized how Sunnydale now ran, and where she stood. Now I’m an honored guest at their house, and little Willow is more than ready and willing to do things for me that she thought were disgusting just half a year before. It’s amazing how quickly her ego deflated without Buffy puffing it up with hot air, but that’s life.
Cordy was slightly more complex. I didn’t harbor any particular malice towards her, and Harmony did ask me not to break her completely, so that’s what I did. I found her a nice husband, promised her that she’ll never get divorced or anything, and promised her not to appear in her life again, for as long as she doesn’t stick her nose in my life or my business. Cordy got the hint, and ever since that day, she was a perfect wife and a socialite amongst Sunnydale’s better society. A perfect mother too, since she’s on her fourth pregnancy. Admittedly, this went hard on her figure - she’s, like, five times the woman she used to be size-wise - but hey, she could’ve always died in some ditch stick-thin and dirt-poor, and both of us knows it.
So that was the end of the Scoobies. But I wasn’t idle, no! There was the Initiative, the latest brainchild of the US government and military, and then there was all of this business with Glory and the Key, curtsey of some meddling monks. I had paid them back though, by sending the Key and the crazy Glory “attached” to it right back to their monastery, abandoned or not, wherever that was. Hopefully, they either got my point or sent the Key someplace else, or Glory got her Key after all. Either way, I wasn’t bothered again...
Just kidding, Dawn. I’ll never get rid of you - you’re not only my protege, you’re my heir - and together, you and I, will start a dynasty!
And what was beyond that? Beyond that is the present, where I am the governor of California, and with Karl aiding me once again, we may yet seize the prize - the White House. But right now, that is just a dream.
So what to say at the end? Nothing. Buffy was a dumb blonde and a typical despoiled cheerleader, who got surrounded and queened by a bunch of social rejects from several layers of the society. She gave them some existential meaning - and as soon as she was gone, so did the latter. Considering that Buffy herself was just a dumb idealistic blonde that’s hardly surprising, for it’s the queen or king determines a court, yes. But that’s beside the point. The point is that tomorrow is the elections in the Democratic Party, and I intend to win them!
Wish me luck, Dawn!