Aug. 4th: Drift Away
Title: Drift Away
Author: 3am_moonlight (MirroredIllusions on TtH)
Crossover: BtVS / The Walking Dead
Rating: Gen / Teen
Word Count: 1,304.
Timeline: BtVS: Post-Chosen & TWD: S03.
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse belongs to Joss Whedon and the TWD 'verse belongs to rich people with expensive lawyers.
Summary: Even alone in a post-apocalyptic world there are people in need of saveage.
Author's Note: Written for Day 04 of the 2020 August Fic-A-Day.
A/N: Meh. I'm going to go sleep now.
In hindsight, she should've spent more time learning how to do maintenance on her car, but there had always been someone to do it for her, or she could just pay someone to do it. Now she was paying for that. Which was why she was walking alone in the middle of the road during the post-apocalypse.
The Council-owned car had been left several miles behind, out of gas, and with most of her stuff still in the trunk. Sorting through her belongings had been easier than she had expected. She couldn't remember who had told her, but she separated anything vital from the rest: water, food, medication, weapons, and ammunition for the gun she didn't want but had been necessary on a couple of occasions.
That left clothes, shoes, toiletries, books, and other smaller things. A group of Council witches had spelled a backpack for each of them so it held three times the volume it should've. It was highly beneficial as they all traveled quite a lot. Even with that bonus, she had to leave most of her things behind. Two changes of clothes, a comfortable pair of extra shoes, two towels, a washcloth, and four books. Everything else was left with the car.
All she needed now was the necessities for survival. Long gone were the days when even an overnight stay meant four bags of clothes and a whole lot of nothing she didn't need. It was a good feeling in a way.
Back when Tara had been alive she had spelled a water bottle to refill itself and then she'd given it to Buffy. From what she understood of the explanation, it took the water vapor from the air and replaced it inside the bottle. The idea had been for her to use it when she was out Slaying to keep her hydrated. She'd been appreciative back then, but now it was a godsend. Or was that a goddess send? Either way, it had been all she'd had at times when she had been unable to find food or uncontaminated water or other liquids.
Buffy had no idea where she was going. In the last days before the world collapsed into chaos, they had all agreed to help whoever they came across but not try to seek each other out. All of them were spread across the world in various capacities. Willow was in England with her girlfriend of two years, Xander was in Spain with Andrew and three young Slayers, Giles was holding down the fort in England but on the opposite side from Willow. Dawn was in Africa with a group of Slayers trying to research the First Slayers and the Shadowmen.
Faith was off somewhere on her lonesome as everyone on the Council drove her crazy. She was in America though, so there was a very small chance they might cross paths.
A hidden pocket in her backpack contained her laptop and cell phone, both of them magically modified. Willow and some of her fellow witches had managed to get phones to work off of natural magic, the kind anyone with some kind of magical ability had. It had left Xander as the odd man out, but since he was traveling with Andrew it worked out.
The agreement was to have a conference call once a week to keep everyone updated. The last call had come with the sad news of Willow's death by way of a walker attack. The news had been delivered by her girlfriend before she disconnected and let them talk in peace. Most of them had reported deaths in the groups, but Wills had been the first of the Scoobies to die.
It was summer and hotter than she would've liked without the benefit of air condition or the chance to go for a swim. Still, she kept walking. In the beginning, she had been a part of several different groups, but in-fighting and the undead had either killed them off or they had split into smaller groups. It was incredible how many people chose to see her as a danger to them rather than a major asset. It had caused her to leave more than once.
In the distance, she heard a woman coughing. Focusing her supernatural hearing, she could make out a second person quietly telling the woman to try and be quiet. It was followed by more coughing almost immediately. Sick people were bad company but she hadn't seen a living person in almost two weeks so she went off the road and in search of the two women.
A fast Slayer-walk later and she was greeted by the sight of a white woman with blonde hair and a red nose. Beside her was a dark-skinned woman with dreadlocks and a wicked-looking katana that instantly made her envious. The sick woman looked exhausted and as if she belonged at home in bed.
A few minutes passed as Buffy just watched them for any hint of danger or duplicity. It wouldn't have been the first time someone pretended to need help so they could capture fellow survivors for some kind of nefarious reason.
There was no one else nearby though, just the two people she was already looking at. Plus a small herd heading straight for them. Every instinct in her body was screaming for her to save them from the danger, and after giving it another few minutes, she stepped out from behind the tree where she had been spying on them.
"Um," she interrupted them a little awkwardly. "Sorry to cut in on your conversation, but there's a herd heading this way. So you might want to vamoose." She had been so good at this kind of thing once upon a time. Now the two people she was trying to save were looking at her as if she was crazy.
"Now," she added a little more forcefully when they didn't move and made small shooing motions with her hands. The black woman got up and unsheathed the katana, but she was aiming it at Buffy. "I'm not trying to trick you. If it helps you can choose the direction and I'll go the other way, as long as you do go toward them."
That had worked on other skittish people. "Who are you?" It came from the blonde and she was instantly given a warning glance from her friend.
"Who I am is unimportant, just get up and move." They got up, but only the lady with the awesome katana seemed to have any kind of situational awareness. The other had another coughing fit and then asked even more questions.
Then the first walkers became visible in the not so distant distance, and they finally put a move on and began desperately looking for somewhere to hide. It was too late, they would have to fight and she already knew the blonde would be useless.
The herd wasn't as large as Buffy had feared, but it was spread out wide. Fighting the undead was either strangely routine or brutal, this was the first. It made protecting the sick woman easier, and her companions fighting skills proved to be good. Which explained how the two of them were still alive.
Afterward, surrounded by mostly dead walkers, she went from one body to the next and stabbed it in the head to make sure none of them would ever kill someone again. Once again she had an unhelpful audience. She mentally shook her head but didn't comment until she'd checked all of them and made sure.
"Sitting out in the open like that was foolish. You never know when the living or dead are going to attack, so you need to take precautions."
The conversation went downhill from there, but at least they didn't make demands for her to leave.
Author: 3am_moonlight (MirroredIllusions on TtH)
Crossover: BtVS / The Walking Dead
Rating: Gen / Teen
Word Count: 1,304.
Timeline: BtVS: Post-Chosen & TWD: S03.
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse belongs to Joss Whedon and the TWD 'verse belongs to rich people with expensive lawyers.
Summary: Even alone in a post-apocalyptic world there are people in need of saveage.
Author's Note: Written for Day 04 of the 2020 August Fic-A-Day.
A/N: Meh. I'm going to go sleep now.
In hindsight, she should've spent more time learning how to do maintenance on her car, but there had always been someone to do it for her, or she could just pay someone to do it. Now she was paying for that. Which was why she was walking alone in the middle of the road during the post-apocalypse.
The Council-owned car had been left several miles behind, out of gas, and with most of her stuff still in the trunk. Sorting through her belongings had been easier than she had expected. She couldn't remember who had told her, but she separated anything vital from the rest: water, food, medication, weapons, and ammunition for the gun she didn't want but had been necessary on a couple of occasions.
That left clothes, shoes, toiletries, books, and other smaller things. A group of Council witches had spelled a backpack for each of them so it held three times the volume it should've. It was highly beneficial as they all traveled quite a lot. Even with that bonus, she had to leave most of her things behind. Two changes of clothes, a comfortable pair of extra shoes, two towels, a washcloth, and four books. Everything else was left with the car.
All she needed now was the necessities for survival. Long gone were the days when even an overnight stay meant four bags of clothes and a whole lot of nothing she didn't need. It was a good feeling in a way.
Back when Tara had been alive she had spelled a water bottle to refill itself and then she'd given it to Buffy. From what she understood of the explanation, it took the water vapor from the air and replaced it inside the bottle. The idea had been for her to use it when she was out Slaying to keep her hydrated. She'd been appreciative back then, but now it was a godsend. Or was that a goddess send? Either way, it had been all she'd had at times when she had been unable to find food or uncontaminated water or other liquids.
Buffy had no idea where she was going. In the last days before the world collapsed into chaos, they had all agreed to help whoever they came across but not try to seek each other out. All of them were spread across the world in various capacities. Willow was in England with her girlfriend of two years, Xander was in Spain with Andrew and three young Slayers, Giles was holding down the fort in England but on the opposite side from Willow. Dawn was in Africa with a group of Slayers trying to research the First Slayers and the Shadowmen.
Faith was off somewhere on her lonesome as everyone on the Council drove her crazy. She was in America though, so there was a very small chance they might cross paths.
A hidden pocket in her backpack contained her laptop and cell phone, both of them magically modified. Willow and some of her fellow witches had managed to get phones to work off of natural magic, the kind anyone with some kind of magical ability had. It had left Xander as the odd man out, but since he was traveling with Andrew it worked out.
The agreement was to have a conference call once a week to keep everyone updated. The last call had come with the sad news of Willow's death by way of a walker attack. The news had been delivered by her girlfriend before she disconnected and let them talk in peace. Most of them had reported deaths in the groups, but Wills had been the first of the Scoobies to die.
It was summer and hotter than she would've liked without the benefit of air condition or the chance to go for a swim. Still, she kept walking. In the beginning, she had been a part of several different groups, but in-fighting and the undead had either killed them off or they had split into smaller groups. It was incredible how many people chose to see her as a danger to them rather than a major asset. It had caused her to leave more than once.
In the distance, she heard a woman coughing. Focusing her supernatural hearing, she could make out a second person quietly telling the woman to try and be quiet. It was followed by more coughing almost immediately. Sick people were bad company but she hadn't seen a living person in almost two weeks so she went off the road and in search of the two women.
A fast Slayer-walk later and she was greeted by the sight of a white woman with blonde hair and a red nose. Beside her was a dark-skinned woman with dreadlocks and a wicked-looking katana that instantly made her envious. The sick woman looked exhausted and as if she belonged at home in bed.
A few minutes passed as Buffy just watched them for any hint of danger or duplicity. It wouldn't have been the first time someone pretended to need help so they could capture fellow survivors for some kind of nefarious reason.
There was no one else nearby though, just the two people she was already looking at. Plus a small herd heading straight for them. Every instinct in her body was screaming for her to save them from the danger, and after giving it another few minutes, she stepped out from behind the tree where she had been spying on them.
"Um," she interrupted them a little awkwardly. "Sorry to cut in on your conversation, but there's a herd heading this way. So you might want to vamoose." She had been so good at this kind of thing once upon a time. Now the two people she was trying to save were looking at her as if she was crazy.
"Now," she added a little more forcefully when they didn't move and made small shooing motions with her hands. The black woman got up and unsheathed the katana, but she was aiming it at Buffy. "I'm not trying to trick you. If it helps you can choose the direction and I'll go the other way, as long as you do go toward them."
That had worked on other skittish people. "Who are you?" It came from the blonde and she was instantly given a warning glance from her friend.
"Who I am is unimportant, just get up and move." They got up, but only the lady with the awesome katana seemed to have any kind of situational awareness. The other had another coughing fit and then asked even more questions.
Then the first walkers became visible in the not so distant distance, and they finally put a move on and began desperately looking for somewhere to hide. It was too late, they would have to fight and she already knew the blonde would be useless.
The herd wasn't as large as Buffy had feared, but it was spread out wide. Fighting the undead was either strangely routine or brutal, this was the first. It made protecting the sick woman easier, and her companions fighting skills proved to be good. Which explained how the two of them were still alive.
Afterward, surrounded by mostly dead walkers, she went from one body to the next and stabbed it in the head to make sure none of them would ever kill someone again. Once again she had an unhelpful audience. She mentally shook her head but didn't comment until she'd checked all of them and made sure.
"Sitting out in the open like that was foolish. You never know when the living or dead are going to attack, so you need to take precautions."
The conversation went downhill from there, but at least they didn't make demands for her to leave.