Fic snippet-- Unbeta'd
Sep. 25th, 2003 03:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grimorieWell, I've been thinking of a Buffy/Farscape crossover for a long time, even plotted a few things but i decided before Angel S5 I'll post a snippet of Buffy going back to Earth.
The backstory is the series I'm going to tackle, which is really this: In season 5 Buffy swan dived into a portal, in my fic she doesn't die she goes to another part of space, which luckily where our Merry Moya crew were.
This picks-up in Terra Firma (but since I haven't watched the ep yet this totally deviates from it.)
They were home. Buffy stared at the image, blue, white and brown-green. Earth.
She made it. John made it.
She was a bundle of nervous energy, waiting for two arns after the Earth delegates’ media marched John and the others keeping the attention away from her.
Pilot offered to locate Sunnydale for her and she gladly allowed him that was half an arn. Hour. Hour ago. Buffy wondered about the hold-up. Must be the Hellmouth disrupting Moya’s sensors.
Buffy grinned.
“Slayer Summers, I… Moya and I have located your Sunnydale, we think.” Pilot said, his voice dubious.
Buffy chuckled. “The Hellmouth giving you trouble, Pilot?”
There was a brief silence, then. “It would seem so.” Another silence. “There is something you must here.”
“Patch it in Command, Pilot.” Buffy said, curious.
There was a slight hesitation then voices. News radio it would seem.
“There are still speculation at the mysterious earthquake that leveled Sunnydale, a small town in California—“
Ice down her spine. Mercifully Pilot cut the next words. No, impossible. Buffy struggled to breathe she was clutching the edge of the table, dizzy, afraid. Afraid.
She had to see, not here, with her eyes. Down there. It had to be a mistake.
“Slayer?” Soft, concerned. Buffy didn’t want that, and she was so, so cold.
It was a mistake. Had to be. “Pilot, download the coordinates to Raven.”
“It is done, Buffy.” Her name. a kindness on Pilot’s part.
“Thank you.” She rushed blindly to her prowler, scrap metal once and now sleek black just like Aeryn’s.
The prowler slid away from Moya, evading all satellites Buffy used everything John and Aeryn taught her. Atmosphere and gravity dragged at Raven but the prowler flew on, almost throwing caution to the wind as she saw the twinkling night lights of cities and fled away again into darkness until at last she saw the familiar twists and turns of roads she knew so well.
Buffy landed her prowler, barely caring to cut off the engines. The canopy opened and she swung out, blood pounding loudly in her ears.
…mysterious earthquake… leveled Sunnydale—
She ran to the top of the hill, hardly daring to breathe, willing it not to be true because it can’t. And stopped. No. No. It can’t be but there it wasn’t.
Even in the fading sunlight Buffy saw the sudden drop, the earth the wide nothing that was once Sunnydale and was now a crater.
Buffy’s legs lost strength and she fell to her knees, tears blurring her sight. She was late. Too damned late.
Late.
…mysterious earthquake… leveled Sunnydale—
Her mind refused to function, cycling words over and over.
All her dreams, Eve visitations, the frelling First and she was too late. She failed. Maybe it was Karma, 60,000 lives for her whole life. She was falling to pieces.
“Nice ride, Ms. Summers.”
In a microt Buffy was on her feet, Mr. Gordo in her hand. She blinked at the sudden brightness and raised her free hand to block the lights. Car lights. A figure stood between her and the lights, features shadowed. Buffy was only able to make out the feminine figure and the tallness of her and the beautiful cut of some designer clothes.
The woman approached her, until she was close enough for Buffy to discern her face dark haired, self-confident stance and the quirk of lips reminding her uncomfortably of Grayza.
“Lilah Morgan,” she said, extending her hand. Her white scarf a relief against the dark. “I work for your ex.”
Buffy didn’t take the hand she developed a mistrust for extended appendages. “Riley?”
Lilah’s hand went down to her side not at all flustered. “No, the other guy, tall, pale, broody?”
“Angel?” Heard the catch in her voice, couldn’t help it.
“One and same.” Lilah raised her eyebrows. “Awful fast with the gun.”
“I can be.” Buffy wondered at the calm tone of her voice, when she was that close to breaking. Maybe if she listened hard enough she can hear Dawn’s agonized screams. Buffy lowered the pistol before her hands began shaking and focused on Lilah. “You work for Angel?”
“Yes.”
“What happened… here?” Don’t tell me I don’t want to know.
Lilah looked beyond her, as if she just noticed the crater for the first time. “Oh, that? Major battle, good and evil, they even had Uruk-hai wannabes.”
The tone and words hit Buffy as too casual as if those who fought weren’t her friends, her sister and before she could raise Mr. Gordo Lilah continued. “I really shouldn’t be the one to tell you, go to Angel. All your questions will be answered. I can give you a ride.”
Lilah stepped back and for the first time, Buffy realized the car was a sleek limousine. For a microt Buffy admired the design then remembered two things. Los Angeles. Traffic.
“Too slow.”
“Or, I can always give you the precise coordinates to the Hyperion.” Lilah said, as if intending to say it all along.
Buffy smiled at her, a little too wide, a little too predatory. “Coordinates. Please.”
The backstory is the series I'm going to tackle, which is really this: In season 5 Buffy swan dived into a portal, in my fic she doesn't die she goes to another part of space, which luckily where our Merry Moya crew were.
This picks-up in Terra Firma (but since I haven't watched the ep yet this totally deviates from it.)
They were home. Buffy stared at the image, blue, white and brown-green. Earth.
She made it. John made it.
She was a bundle of nervous energy, waiting for two arns after the Earth delegates’ media marched John and the others keeping the attention away from her.
Pilot offered to locate Sunnydale for her and she gladly allowed him that was half an arn. Hour. Hour ago. Buffy wondered about the hold-up. Must be the Hellmouth disrupting Moya’s sensors.
Buffy grinned.
“Slayer Summers, I… Moya and I have located your Sunnydale, we think.” Pilot said, his voice dubious.
Buffy chuckled. “The Hellmouth giving you trouble, Pilot?”
There was a brief silence, then. “It would seem so.” Another silence. “There is something you must here.”
“Patch it in Command, Pilot.” Buffy said, curious.
There was a slight hesitation then voices. News radio it would seem.
“There are still speculation at the mysterious earthquake that leveled Sunnydale, a small town in California—“
Ice down her spine. Mercifully Pilot cut the next words. No, impossible. Buffy struggled to breathe she was clutching the edge of the table, dizzy, afraid. Afraid.
She had to see, not here, with her eyes. Down there. It had to be a mistake.
“Slayer?” Soft, concerned. Buffy didn’t want that, and she was so, so cold.
It was a mistake. Had to be. “Pilot, download the coordinates to Raven.”
“It is done, Buffy.” Her name. a kindness on Pilot’s part.
“Thank you.” She rushed blindly to her prowler, scrap metal once and now sleek black just like Aeryn’s.
The prowler slid away from Moya, evading all satellites Buffy used everything John and Aeryn taught her. Atmosphere and gravity dragged at Raven but the prowler flew on, almost throwing caution to the wind as she saw the twinkling night lights of cities and fled away again into darkness until at last she saw the familiar twists and turns of roads she knew so well.
Buffy landed her prowler, barely caring to cut off the engines. The canopy opened and she swung out, blood pounding loudly in her ears.
…mysterious earthquake… leveled Sunnydale—
She ran to the top of the hill, hardly daring to breathe, willing it not to be true because it can’t. And stopped. No. No. It can’t be but there it wasn’t.
Even in the fading sunlight Buffy saw the sudden drop, the earth the wide nothing that was once Sunnydale and was now a crater.
Buffy’s legs lost strength and she fell to her knees, tears blurring her sight. She was late. Too damned late.
Late.
…mysterious earthquake… leveled Sunnydale—
Her mind refused to function, cycling words over and over.
All her dreams, Eve visitations, the frelling First and she was too late. She failed. Maybe it was Karma, 60,000 lives for her whole life. She was falling to pieces.
“Nice ride, Ms. Summers.”
In a microt Buffy was on her feet, Mr. Gordo in her hand. She blinked at the sudden brightness and raised her free hand to block the lights. Car lights. A figure stood between her and the lights, features shadowed. Buffy was only able to make out the feminine figure and the tallness of her and the beautiful cut of some designer clothes.
The woman approached her, until she was close enough for Buffy to discern her face dark haired, self-confident stance and the quirk of lips reminding her uncomfortably of Grayza.
“Lilah Morgan,” she said, extending her hand. Her white scarf a relief against the dark. “I work for your ex.”
Buffy didn’t take the hand she developed a mistrust for extended appendages. “Riley?”
Lilah’s hand went down to her side not at all flustered. “No, the other guy, tall, pale, broody?”
“Angel?” Heard the catch in her voice, couldn’t help it.
“One and same.” Lilah raised her eyebrows. “Awful fast with the gun.”
“I can be.” Buffy wondered at the calm tone of her voice, when she was that close to breaking. Maybe if she listened hard enough she can hear Dawn’s agonized screams. Buffy lowered the pistol before her hands began shaking and focused on Lilah. “You work for Angel?”
“Yes.”
“What happened… here?” Don’t tell me I don’t want to know.
Lilah looked beyond her, as if she just noticed the crater for the first time. “Oh, that? Major battle, good and evil, they even had Uruk-hai wannabes.”
The tone and words hit Buffy as too casual as if those who fought weren’t her friends, her sister and before she could raise Mr. Gordo Lilah continued. “I really shouldn’t be the one to tell you, go to Angel. All your questions will be answered. I can give you a ride.”
Lilah stepped back and for the first time, Buffy realized the car was a sleek limousine. For a microt Buffy admired the design then remembered two things. Los Angeles. Traffic.
“Too slow.”
“Or, I can always give you the precise coordinates to the Hyperion.” Lilah said, as if intending to say it all along.
Buffy smiled at her, a little too wide, a little too predatory. “Coordinates. Please.”
