By Dave Turner.
Disclaimer: I do not own ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ or ‘Star Trek’. I write these stories for fun not profit.
Crossover: BtVS with Star Trek.
Spelling and Grammar: Written in glorious English, English. Slang is American where I know what the slang is! Spelling is English.
Timeline: BtVS set just before the episode ‘The Body’ in Season 5. Star Trek, some time after the fifth Season of Deep Space 9.
Warnings: Character death.
Notes: Although I realise why JW wrote the episode ‘The Body’, I’ve always thought that Joyce’s death was a pointless death. The idea for this fic came to me some years ago when I was quite heavily into Star Trek, but I never got ‘round to writing it until recently. A friend of mine read this story and said it made her feel better about Joyce’s death, it gave it some meaning.
Joyce was nice.
Summery: The real reason Joyce died.
A loud knock at the door! ‘Damn!’ thought Joyce, ‘please not another door to door salesman!’ She often wondered how they survived in a place like Sunnydale! It would be like asking to be eaten! The knock came again, she didn’t want be late back to the gallery this afternoon, but she had better answer it just in case it was one of Buffy’s friends in trouble. She ran to the door and opened it.
“Flowers for Joyce Summers?” Said the handsome young man in the smart black and grey uniform. She liked the way the red undershirt contrasted with the black and grey jacket.
“I’m Joyce Summers.” She said.
“Then these must be for you!” Smiled the pleasant young man, “Would you mind signing here?” He said and held out an electronic notebook.
Distracted Joyce stepped forward to take the book. She never saw the figure step out behind her; she felt something cold on her neck. If she ever heard the ‘hiss’ of the Hypo-spray it was the last thing she would ever hear. As Joyce collapsed the two uniformed figures rushed to grab her and drag her into the house.
“Put her on the floor for now.” Said the Vulcan female, as she replaced the Hypo-spray in its pouch. The human male gently laid Joyce onto the floor.
“What now?” he asked.
“We arrange things to look natural.” Replied the Vulcan, T’Fal.
Struggling with the body a little the Vulcan and Human moved Joyce onto the sofa in the living room were Buffy would easily find her. The flowers were put carefully into a vase and left on the dresser by the door. Once everything appeared to be in order T’Fal produced a tricorder and scanned the area.
“Not a trace.” She announced, “At least none that the ‘Down-timers’ will be able to find.”
“Remind me why we’ve just committed murder!” Asked Roberts, the human, “This is not what I expected when I joined Starfleet!”
“Nor I,” Agreed T’Fal.
“Then why have we just killed a perfectly innocent woman?”
“By killing the mother, we force the two daughters to form a stronger bond.” Explained T’Fal. “They will have no one but each other to fall back on. The team sent to dispose of the father will have succeeded by now, if not another team will be dispatched. If the mother had been allowed to live, the two girls would never have formed a strong enough bond for Buffy to give her life for her ‘sister’. The Dimensional Gate would have been left open, other dimensions would have bled into this one. The Time Line would have been disrupted; there would have been no ‘Here-and-Now’, no Starfleet, no Federation. Imagine what that would mean!”
“I know, I know,” Replied Roberts, “It just doesn’t seem ‘right’, that’s all.”
“Ensign, many of the things we do in Section 31 don’t seem ‘right’, but in the long term it turns out to be the most logical thing to do.” T’Fal tapped her Comm Badge, “Two to beam up.”
There was the whine and sparkle of the transporter beam as it picked up the two time travellers, then all was quiet.
The door opened and in walked Buffy.
“MOM!” She called. She turned and saw the flowers on the dresser; she picked up the card and read it to herself.
“Nice to see a couple o’ guys can still get it right!” she said to herself, then she calls out, “Hey! Flower getting lady, do you want me to pick Dawn up from school?” Buffy glances up and catches sight of her mother lying on the sofa.
“Hey Mom! What cha’ doin’?” She asks brightly, suddenly a cold hand grips her heart, “Mom! Mom?……Mommy?”