This was originally for You Got the Stones?, a challenge list for Jossverse authors. I can't find the exact challenge now, and honestly the archive is too big for me to search through, but it's something to the affect of a vengeance demon giving Buffy a wish in season five. Looking back, this was a pretty good start, but it was also early in my fic-writing days. The payoff was supposed to be Buffy realising that even if there are no demons (etc.) in the world, there's still evil; it just has a human guise, and she still has to fight it.
"You get a wish, Buffy," Halfrek explained.
"I don't understand. I don't want vengeance--I can deal with Riley leaving. It was my fault, anyway," Buffy said tiredly, rubbing her face with her hands.
"Gods, is that what Anyanka told you? She was such a single-minded one, that Anya. Look, hon, we're 'justice' demons. Right now, you deserve some justice for the havoc Riley Finn left in your life. Stupid guy, not even saying goodbye-" Halfrek babbled, until she realized Buffy wasn't listening. Instead, Buffy had "that look" on her face. Halfrek had seen it many times; it was the look of a person about to make a wish.
"I don't deserve this," Buffy mumbled. "All I wanted was to be normal, to live my life without demons, or Slayerness, or men who leave."
"That's the spirit, honey," Halfrek encouraged.
Buffy looked up at the demon, focusing in on her pendant. She looked...determined. "I want my wish."
Halfrek almost cheered. "Good! Good for you. Let's make it, shall we?"
Buffy nodded, and stood. "I wish that I had a perfect life, with no Slayer powers, no demons, no world saving. I want to be normal."
Halfrek immediately went into her demonic visage, the veins doing little to hide the triumphant smirk she had on her face as she said, "Done."
The world went black.
An eternity later, Buffy came out of the darkness to find herself holding a gun. She came out of the offensive stance she was in and looked at the weapon like it was an octupus. "Huh?" she said, before hearing, "LAPD! Freeze!"
She looked around wildly, trying to figure out what was going on, when an annoyed voice hissed in her ear, "Summers? What the hell are you doing?"
Buffy swung her head to the left, discovering that the guy next to her was wearing a police uniform. Apparently, so was she. "Okay. I am the Law. Cool. Guess my career results were more accurate than I thought," she muttered under her breath, moving backwards behind the guy next to her - Frohecke, his badge said - and trying to regain the position she had before.
The other officers guns were trained on a kid behind a junked out GTO; she focused on him, and her body responded by pulling the gun up to meet her aim. Wow, she thought. I really am a police officer.
Then there was a flurry of gunfire, and she watched with horror as the kid was shot down. She hadn't even seen him move.
No Slayer senses, she realized. Damn.
Frohecke turned to her, giving a grim smile. "I am so fucking glad to get that piece of shit off the streets. What a fucking scumbag. He got half of this district's kids addicted to crack, fucking moron."
Buffy could only nod dumbly and follow him back to a squdcar. He got in, and when she stared at the car, her gun, and the body that was pooling blood on the pavement, she realized she couldn't move.
"Jesus Christ, Summers, what's wrong with you today? You look like this is the first crime scene you've ever visited. Holster your gun, and get in the damn car," Frohecke chuckled.
She complied wordlessly, putting the gun in the holster with movements she couldn't remember developing and sliding into the passenger seat of the car. She was quiet on the ride, mulling over the new life she'd been thrust into. Luckily Frohecke was off in a conversation about the Lakers, and didn't notice her absence from the car.
When they arrived at the police station, Buffy followed Frohecke through the maze of hallways and rooms until they finally ended up in Narcotics. Frohecke waved her towards her desk, saying he'd catch up with her later. She nodded absently, and sat back in her chair, staring off into space.
So. She was a cop. A cop who took down the bad guys. Her head fell into her hands, a mirror of herself god knows how long ago. Her destiny followed her everywhere, even into alternate dimensions. This sucks, she though.
Then a thought struck her. Wait. Not her destiny. Her *choice.* She had decided to become a police officer at some point. Okay, slightly better.
Buffy fell back in her chair, her legs kicking under her desk. She felt something meet her foot, and dragged out a black backpack. She started to rummage through it, immediately coming on a wallet. She opened it up to reveal a driver's license: Buffy Anne Summers, born 1981. Her social security number was the same, and when she turned over the card she discovered she was an organ donor. Good for her. There were credit cards, and various other cards, but then she came on the minature photo album.
Oh.
The first picture was of a baby, a beautiful baby. Anna Joyce Doyle, born May 12, 2005. Wait. 2005. This was four years later than the other reality. She was twenty-four - no, twenty-five, she realized when she looked at her desk calender. Wow. She was twenty-five, a cop, and she had a baby daughter. Buffy knew it was her child, implicitly.
Rubbing her eyes, she flipped to the next picture.
God. It was her...and Angel. In wedding clothes. She ran a finger down his picture; it was just like she had always dreamed. They looked so happy, standing in the sunlight.
In the sunlight.
Angel wasn't a vampire.
A silly smile broke out on her face. Angel wasn't a vampire. She wasn't the Slayer. They were married, and they had a daughter. It was perfect.
Buffy was startled out of her thoughts when the phone rang. She fumbled with the bag in her lap, and reached for the handset. "Hello?" she asked cautiously.
"Hi love. How are you?"
"Angel," she breathed, a hitch in her voice.
There was laughter on the other end. God, it was a beautiful sound. "Geez, Buffy, you haven't called me that since high school."
"High--Um. I guess I got a little nostalgic today," she attempted to cover.
"Ah, well, we all do. Listen, do you think you could bring some butter home? I ran out in the middle of making the casserole, but it'll be okay."
"Yeah. Butter. I can do butter," Buffy said, the silly smile threatening to return.
"Okay, love. See you soon. Love you."
"I love you, Ang-. Uh, I love you too."
The laughter rang in her ears even after she'd hung up the phone.
Glancing at her watch, she realized it was five p.m. Cops go home around now, right? she wondered. Frohecke came back then, a cup of coffee in hand. "Damn, Summers, usually you're out of here faster than a speeding bullet. Look, go home to your family. I'll finish the paperwork, okay? Give a kiss to Anna for me."
Buffy nodded, gathering the bag and her keys, which she had pulled from her pocket. She paused before leaving, giving a hesitant, "Thanks, Frohecke," before slipping out into the hallway.
Buffy guessed where the parking lot was, and looked warily at the little remote control thing. She hoped it would work, otherwise she would never be able to find her car.
Beep beep and flashing lights, and there it was. A Jeep, a newer model than her mom's. She grinned, getting in and tossing her things into the passenger seat. She turned on the car and backed out before she realized she had no clue where she was going.
Buffy dug back into her purse, pulling out her wallet and looking at the driver's license again. Luckily the address was one she knew, or at least the suburb the street was in. It couldn't be too hard to find.
After driving a little while, miraculously avoiding traffic, Buffy pulled off to a grocery. Butter. She had to get butter. The smile slipped back on. How great was it that her biggest worry was butter? She walked in, heading straight for the dairy aisle, when she was stopped by a voice behind her. "Officer Summers!"
She halted in her tracks, turning around. An older woman with blue-gray hair was walking up to her with a welcoming smile on her face. Buffy couldn't help but smile at her in return.
"Officer Summers, I want to thank you again for helping me with Burro. It was so kind of you, to go around looking for him."
"You're welcome," Buffy said automatically. "Um. I'm sure it was no trouble at all."
"Oh, but you were so wonderful to go running around the neighboorhood that night. I felt terrible when he had been in the basement all the while, but I do so appreciate your devotion. It meant so much to me, to know that you cared."
Buffy nodded, smiling and wondering who the hell Burro was and why she'd gone looking for him.
"It turns out he was just watching over his hoard - cats can be such ridiculous creatures, you know," the woman said merrily.
Buffy grinned. She'd gone after a cat.
The woman patted Buffy's arm, "Now, you go home and tell your Liam what a good wife he has, and tell Anna Mrs. Dekoukis says hello, all right?"
Buffy blinked for a moment. "Yes, I'll tell...Liam, and Anna, that."
"Good evening, Officer!"
"Have a nice night, Mrs. Dekoukis."
Buffy got the butter, ideas swirling in her mind, and left the grocery store without distractions. Heading back to her home, she kept an eye out for number 1113.
It almost crept up on her. A nice split-level, in a good neighborhood. She pulled the Jeep into the driveway, grabbing her bag and the butter, taking a deep breath before turning the key she figured was for the house in the lock.
words © SA. characters, show, and people not mine. no infringement is intended.