FFA # 1484
Dead Like Me belongs to—Showtime, I guess
BTVS & Anya Jenkins are creations of Joss Whedon
SpiderMan belongs to-- ? ? Marvel, I guess
Charmed belongs to--??? TheWB, I guess
Don’t sue—this is done in fun—no profit to be made… no profit possible.
Word Count- 657
Title: Unfinished Existence (or Reaping M.J.)
Anya Jenkins didn’t like her new job at all. Supposedly she was called- chosen- blessed- gonna live real long time blah blah. She was a reaper… straight out of Dead Like Me.
Of all the TV things to be real- really real why couldn’t she be a whitelighter? Actually out of Charmed. Like that cute carpenter…
Oh Xander. I miss Xander… Back to reality- her new reality.
What was that Charmed guy’s name… Leon? Leo? Yes, Leo.
If he were real he could help her out. The problem was he wasn’t. Here she was ages old ex-vengeance demon- turned deceased human turned reaper. Her job was to snatch souls from soon to be dead folks.
She looked the same in the mirror—pretty hot… but to the rest of the world she appeared a little older and a little haggard JUST enough difference that if Xander were to see her on the street she knew he would think… “hmm—that woman has hair the same color as Anya did (sob)—sure is a good thing we didn’t marry because the chances are she would have wrinkles and crows feet and sagging skin and a thickening body”
Anya hated her new unlife.
After she bit the bullet or rather the knife or axe was it?
Who wants to remember their own death anyway?
Well, after she bit the big one she suddenly found herself dead, of course and then alive--again. This guy, Rupes hooked her up with how things were going to be. She would live in New York, drink copious amounts of coffee, and receive post-its with peoples names who were gonna die. She would find the folks—snatch a soul and lead them to the afterlife.
Imagine that—there really was an afterlife—seemingly an individual one for each individual.
All in all things were pretty darn good- she got to live for a heck of a long time. She was pretty much indestructible. Her bank account was as full as it had been before she died – well after she had died she had left everything to Xander—who had in typical fashion redistributed everything to every single Scooby—leaving her bank account uncommonly empty.
Back to money… Her bank account was full. Dead people didn’t need money and Anya had quite a knack for picking soon to be dead peoples pockets' and finding loopholes in wills and etc. If she were to be honest she was turning into a reaper-shark. She once even held up a wimpy jewel thief of a ghost—who didn’t know he was a ghost. She threatened him with a gun… telling him to ‘give up the location of the diamonds’. Out of fear he did so—and she still fired. Then he realized he was dead- and a ghost and finally let go and went to his afterlife.
All in all her life—well her unlife… was pretty good. Her only snafu was this damn Miss Mary Jane Watson.
Anya had received a post it for damn Miss Mary Jane Watson quite a few times. Each time she would have to climb, a building a wall… chase after a freakish technology induced monster and attempt to save (well, reap) Miss Mary Jane Watson from a certain horrifying death. Each time Anya would get close enough to reap—she would reap and wait.
Each time Miss Mary Jane Watson would be saved from her certain death.
Anya would leave—bemused—and wondering if she truly worked for omnipotent gods or just guessing ones.
A week would pass and again Anya would be given another post-it… Anya would be climbing and running down perhaps a speeding –derailed train in pursuit of yet another freakish technology induced monster and success…. Anya would reap. A hot man in spider spandex would save Miss Mary Jane Watson…and the cycle would continue.
If Anya didn’t believe in true love she would poison the bitch.