Into the Wide, Wide World
Aug. 19th, 2017 11:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerYou might notice a few people who weren't introduced before now. They're kind of the B-team, so their stories will be told in flashback following this.
~Dreamer~
Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Marvel Crossover AU (Self-Made Hero: The Infinity Mirror)
Summary: The last official member of their little team will take some work to retrieve.
Word Count: 1704
Rating: Gen
~Dreamer~
Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Marvel Crossover AU (Self-Made Hero: The Infinity Mirror)
Summary: The last official member of their little team will take some work to retrieve.
Word Count: 1704
Rating: Gen
Home means nothing. She’s never even seen this house. They’re probably not in L.A., but she’s not about to ask and reveal that she doesn’t know, even though the doctors might be happy about her showing any interest in this white world.
She’s not sure why she’s still going home after someone practically tried to kidnap her, but they don’t tend to tell her much.
Buffy hears a whining sound. She doesn’t know what it is, only that it’s not natural. Unfortunately, her parents think that she’s not paying attention to them because of whatever’s going on with her and begin to berate her more. Hank’s muttering something about disrespect and not listening, while her mom’s a little more gentle. “Are you all right? You should ignore the dreams, honey. You’re here, now, with us.”
And then she sees what’s going on behind them and her eyes widen.
There’s a shining streak of something that is flying toward her house. It’s slowly getting larger and larger and it finally resolves itself into something humanoid-shaped and covered in metal and she suddenly has an idea of what it is. She’s at least heard of the comic books, and she vaguely remembers actually meeting Iron Man and maybe even fighting alongside him though she doesn’t remember what dream that was in. He lands, theatrically, and it’s then that her parents finally turn around. And gape.
He straightens, and gestures, and the glass doors slide open. And then he starts stepping inside, and the pieces of the armor unfold to reveal a smiling, dangerous Xander beneath, eyepatch and all. The eyepatch featured in at least one dream, so it’s not that weird to see it here, though it’s a little odder to see him being serious.
Her father grabs a pair of scissors and tries to stab Xander. She gasps, but it bounces off a blue field that appears above his skin.
He looks hurt. Which is one of his favorite things to do, really, play up the ‘hurt’ act. “Okay, we got off on the wrong foot. I realize I forgot to RSVP to this little shindig, but I’d think possible maimage is going a little bit strong, maybe?” He smiles hopefully, waving his hands a little and there’s a freshly popped bag of popcorn in his hands. “I brought food.” He offers the bag to her parents, who clearly don’t know what to do, and then pushes it in her direction, puppy dog expression firmly in place.
She takes as large a handful as she can manage and starts munching happily. She has had dreams of food, but she doesn’t remember eating any real food.
He winks. “Someone holding out for a hero ‘till the end of the night?”
Buffy can’t help the nervous giggle. She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to deal with dreams and the white world, and an Iron Man Xander is a kind of interesting experience. “You must be in full-on Tony mode, because every other sentence out of your mouth is a come-on.”
He blinks, sidetracked, and in that instant she can see him with a glass of alcohol in his hand. It’s an overlay, kind of. Like, she can see him as he is, now, and she can see the other, and they kind of merge in her head. Like this white world and the dreams.
“We’re calling the cops, whoever you are.” She never realized how much of a lack of a preservation instinct Hank Summers had, because really? Faced with tech, dangerous tech, that he’s never seen before and doesn’t understand, his response is enraged bluster?
The smile is definitely Tony’s. “Oh, you could do that. Except that there’s only one person in this world with powers, besides the lovely people that came with me. The people you’re calling, they’re not SHIELD. They don’t even have a Powers Division.” He exaggerates shock, glancing at Buffy. “And, oh wait, my manners are awful. I haven’t even introduced the other amazing people I brought to crash this party. Buff, you’re gonna have to put me into the naughty corner.”
“I get the feeling that’s where you live,” Buffy responds dryly, and he laughs delightedly.
“Oh, man, that is awesome. Star, make a note of that.”
A Russian voice she doesn’t recognize responds. “Noted, Ranger One.”
He snaps both fingers and then points them out as finger guns, acting like he’s just fired them. He’s probably hyped up on candy. “So, the lovely lady being all responsible-like and keeping our little house party from getting out of hand and disrupting the neighbors is Sorceror Supreme Willow Rosenberg.”
The front door bursts in and Willow waves shyly. That’s so classic Willow that Buffy finds herself propped up against the wall, trying to breathe through the laughter and tears.
“What he said. No calling anybody, no one leaves until the end, because being a party pooper is bad, and also you ticked me off and I could probably disintegrate people with my mind. Buffy is one of my favorite people and nobody hurts her. I probably won’t disintegrate anybody, but there might be turning into toads or rats or something, because I do that with people who tick me off.”
“And, oh no, I forgot to mention who I was, too!” He holds out a hand for either of her parents to shake, but neither of them do. “Can’t blame you; bad-mannered party crashers aren’t the easiest to forgive, no matter how charming or rich or anything else.” He sticks his hands in his pockets in lieu of anything better to do with them. “Alexander Jesse Knight, billionaire, superhero, genius, hot stuff. Also I give lots of money to charities on a whim.”
The hand comes out, pointing theatrically toward to a corner. Where Oz is crouching casually like he belongs there. “Oz, our friendly Werewolf in Tibet. Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite unless you ask him nicely.”
“Yo,” he says quietly, not rising to the provocation.
“Angel, your average neighborhood Batvamp and currently in competition for the title of Best Sidekick in the ‘verse.” Angel suddenly looms out of the dark from behind Hank, who lets out a high-pitched squeak. He doesn’t speak at all, just glowers a little. Which is weird; it’s not what the Angel she remembers would do, but then, this isn’t the Angel she remembers, and maybe Xander’s onto something and he’s trying to prove the whole ‘Batvamp’ remark.
“Illyria, the very not friendly Hell Goddess who’s on a literal warpath because she kinda adopted Buffy, seeing as she really likes women who kick butt. She doesn’t tend to like it when mere mortals mess with her toys.”
The woman is blue and holding a gigantic spear effortlessly. Which has her brain singing a song. There are times like this where she actually does question her sanity.
“You hurt Buffy, and you would take her away from fighting with us, her team. That’s wrong. You must pay.”
“Oh, and yeah, the ladies who answer all the calls. Seriously think they might have been some of Kaiba’s phone clone clerks. You ticked them off too.”
“You’re lucky I’m not there,” comes from…an earpiece Xander’s wearing? Why hadn’t she noticed that? “I would kick your butt like Hulk using Loki like he’s in the ‘I threw it on the ground’ video. Star’s more the messenger girl than I am.”
“Actually,” corrects another voice that Buffy recognizes—is that Cordy?—coming from the earpiece or whatever. “The both of us will kick your ass. Get ready for a Chase double team.”
The other one laughs menacingly.
Xander chuckles, not looking at all worried. “I kid. Ladies and gents, Krista Chase, fabulous, extraordinary, and marvelous PA. Soon-to-be proud owner of another armored suit. Whenever she speaks, everyone in the entire room drops what they’re saying just to hear her. She could take over the world effortlessly. She is the most interesting woman alive. And there’s her cousin, Cordelia Chase, who literally runs everything Krista doesn’t, no less unquestionably amazing and also will likely soon add shiny metal to her awe-inspiring wardrobe. And while I’m at it, White Star, say hi.”
“If I have to. They seem as annoyingly incompetent as the Nightwatch recruiters.” It’s that somewhat Russian voice, no nonsense and not willing to pull verbal punches.
“She doesn’t have a habit of going Skynet on your butt, but like Illyria she doesn’t like anyone messing with the people she likes, so…I guess what I’m saying is, don’t provoke her.” Xander’s watching the mess he’s creating, delighted like a little kid.
Star sounds both resigned and slightly menacing. “Buffy’s one of the only people I would do the whole Terminator routine for, so I agree with the Entil’Zha. Don’t mess with me or the people I care about. I think those are fairly obvious restrictions, easy enough to follow even for you lot.”
“Let’s not forget the big man himself, Dr. Rupert Giles, also known as Ripper for reasons. Don’t poke him too much. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.”
Giles appears, walking down from the top of the stairs. The smile he has is angry and proud, both. “We will always come for you, Buffy,” he promises quietly, and she grins from ear to ear.
“Oh, and when I mentioned that one person in this world had powers before we showed up? That’d be your daughter.” Buffy’s neck whips around fast enough that she thinks she’ll probably be sore, but really, what? “She has the ability to see into other universes and learn techniques from them, but that ability to see the forest makes her a little less equipped to deal with the trees. Which is why telling what universe she’s actually in at the moment is an issue for her.”
Oh.
“So, surprise, your daughter’s not crazy. Also surprise, all this stuff that she told you about? Actually exists. Surprise, she has a team who loves her. Who would die for her. We’ll always rally around a fellow Scooby.” He holds up his hand like he’s a showman, like this is all just a magic trick, and he’s amazing, better than that magician at her sixth birthday, even.
She’s not sure why she’s still going home after someone practically tried to kidnap her, but they don’t tend to tell her much.
Buffy hears a whining sound. She doesn’t know what it is, only that it’s not natural. Unfortunately, her parents think that she’s not paying attention to them because of whatever’s going on with her and begin to berate her more. Hank’s muttering something about disrespect and not listening, while her mom’s a little more gentle. “Are you all right? You should ignore the dreams, honey. You’re here, now, with us.”
And then she sees what’s going on behind them and her eyes widen.
There’s a shining streak of something that is flying toward her house. It’s slowly getting larger and larger and it finally resolves itself into something humanoid-shaped and covered in metal and she suddenly has an idea of what it is. She’s at least heard of the comic books, and she vaguely remembers actually meeting Iron Man and maybe even fighting alongside him though she doesn’t remember what dream that was in. He lands, theatrically, and it’s then that her parents finally turn around. And gape.
He straightens, and gestures, and the glass doors slide open. And then he starts stepping inside, and the pieces of the armor unfold to reveal a smiling, dangerous Xander beneath, eyepatch and all. The eyepatch featured in at least one dream, so it’s not that weird to see it here, though it’s a little odder to see him being serious.
Her father grabs a pair of scissors and tries to stab Xander. She gasps, but it bounces off a blue field that appears above his skin.
He looks hurt. Which is one of his favorite things to do, really, play up the ‘hurt’ act. “Okay, we got off on the wrong foot. I realize I forgot to RSVP to this little shindig, but I’d think possible maimage is going a little bit strong, maybe?” He smiles hopefully, waving his hands a little and there’s a freshly popped bag of popcorn in his hands. “I brought food.” He offers the bag to her parents, who clearly don’t know what to do, and then pushes it in her direction, puppy dog expression firmly in place.
She takes as large a handful as she can manage and starts munching happily. She has had dreams of food, but she doesn’t remember eating any real food.
He winks. “Someone holding out for a hero ‘till the end of the night?”
Buffy can’t help the nervous giggle. She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to deal with dreams and the white world, and an Iron Man Xander is a kind of interesting experience. “You must be in full-on Tony mode, because every other sentence out of your mouth is a come-on.”
He blinks, sidetracked, and in that instant she can see him with a glass of alcohol in his hand. It’s an overlay, kind of. Like, she can see him as he is, now, and she can see the other, and they kind of merge in her head. Like this white world and the dreams.
“We’re calling the cops, whoever you are.” She never realized how much of a lack of a preservation instinct Hank Summers had, because really? Faced with tech, dangerous tech, that he’s never seen before and doesn’t understand, his response is enraged bluster?
The smile is definitely Tony’s. “Oh, you could do that. Except that there’s only one person in this world with powers, besides the lovely people that came with me. The people you’re calling, they’re not SHIELD. They don’t even have a Powers Division.” He exaggerates shock, glancing at Buffy. “And, oh wait, my manners are awful. I haven’t even introduced the other amazing people I brought to crash this party. Buff, you’re gonna have to put me into the naughty corner.”
“I get the feeling that’s where you live,” Buffy responds dryly, and he laughs delightedly.
“Oh, man, that is awesome. Star, make a note of that.”
A Russian voice she doesn’t recognize responds. “Noted, Ranger One.”
He snaps both fingers and then points them out as finger guns, acting like he’s just fired them. He’s probably hyped up on candy. “So, the lovely lady being all responsible-like and keeping our little house party from getting out of hand and disrupting the neighbors is Sorceror Supreme Willow Rosenberg.”
The front door bursts in and Willow waves shyly. That’s so classic Willow that Buffy finds herself propped up against the wall, trying to breathe through the laughter and tears.
“What he said. No calling anybody, no one leaves until the end, because being a party pooper is bad, and also you ticked me off and I could probably disintegrate people with my mind. Buffy is one of my favorite people and nobody hurts her. I probably won’t disintegrate anybody, but there might be turning into toads or rats or something, because I do that with people who tick me off.”
“And, oh no, I forgot to mention who I was, too!” He holds out a hand for either of her parents to shake, but neither of them do. “Can’t blame you; bad-mannered party crashers aren’t the easiest to forgive, no matter how charming or rich or anything else.” He sticks his hands in his pockets in lieu of anything better to do with them. “Alexander Jesse Knight, billionaire, superhero, genius, hot stuff. Also I give lots of money to charities on a whim.”
The hand comes out, pointing theatrically toward to a corner. Where Oz is crouching casually like he belongs there. “Oz, our friendly Werewolf in Tibet. Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite unless you ask him nicely.”
“Yo,” he says quietly, not rising to the provocation.
“Angel, your average neighborhood Batvamp and currently in competition for the title of Best Sidekick in the ‘verse.” Angel suddenly looms out of the dark from behind Hank, who lets out a high-pitched squeak. He doesn’t speak at all, just glowers a little. Which is weird; it’s not what the Angel she remembers would do, but then, this isn’t the Angel she remembers, and maybe Xander’s onto something and he’s trying to prove the whole ‘Batvamp’ remark.
“Illyria, the very not friendly Hell Goddess who’s on a literal warpath because she kinda adopted Buffy, seeing as she really likes women who kick butt. She doesn’t tend to like it when mere mortals mess with her toys.”
The woman is blue and holding a gigantic spear effortlessly. Which has her brain singing a song. There are times like this where she actually does question her sanity.
“You hurt Buffy, and you would take her away from fighting with us, her team. That’s wrong. You must pay.”
“Oh, and yeah, the ladies who answer all the calls. Seriously think they might have been some of Kaiba’s phone clone clerks. You ticked them off too.”
“You’re lucky I’m not there,” comes from…an earpiece Xander’s wearing? Why hadn’t she noticed that? “I would kick your butt like Hulk using Loki like he’s in the ‘I threw it on the ground’ video. Star’s more the messenger girl than I am.”
“Actually,” corrects another voice that Buffy recognizes—is that Cordy?—coming from the earpiece or whatever. “The both of us will kick your ass. Get ready for a Chase double team.”
The other one laughs menacingly.
Xander chuckles, not looking at all worried. “I kid. Ladies and gents, Krista Chase, fabulous, extraordinary, and marvelous PA. Soon-to-be proud owner of another armored suit. Whenever she speaks, everyone in the entire room drops what they’re saying just to hear her. She could take over the world effortlessly. She is the most interesting woman alive. And there’s her cousin, Cordelia Chase, who literally runs everything Krista doesn’t, no less unquestionably amazing and also will likely soon add shiny metal to her awe-inspiring wardrobe. And while I’m at it, White Star, say hi.”
“If I have to. They seem as annoyingly incompetent as the Nightwatch recruiters.” It’s that somewhat Russian voice, no nonsense and not willing to pull verbal punches.
“She doesn’t have a habit of going Skynet on your butt, but like Illyria she doesn’t like anyone messing with the people she likes, so…I guess what I’m saying is, don’t provoke her.” Xander’s watching the mess he’s creating, delighted like a little kid.
Star sounds both resigned and slightly menacing. “Buffy’s one of the only people I would do the whole Terminator routine for, so I agree with the Entil’Zha. Don’t mess with me or the people I care about. I think those are fairly obvious restrictions, easy enough to follow even for you lot.”
“Let’s not forget the big man himself, Dr. Rupert Giles, also known as Ripper for reasons. Don’t poke him too much. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.”
Giles appears, walking down from the top of the stairs. The smile he has is angry and proud, both. “We will always come for you, Buffy,” he promises quietly, and she grins from ear to ear.
“Oh, and when I mentioned that one person in this world had powers before we showed up? That’d be your daughter.” Buffy’s neck whips around fast enough that she thinks she’ll probably be sore, but really, what? “She has the ability to see into other universes and learn techniques from them, but that ability to see the forest makes her a little less equipped to deal with the trees. Which is why telling what universe she’s actually in at the moment is an issue for her.”
Oh.
“So, surprise, your daughter’s not crazy. Also surprise, all this stuff that she told you about? Actually exists. Surprise, she has a team who loves her. Who would die for her. We’ll always rally around a fellow Scooby.” He holds up his hand like he’s a showman, like this is all just a magic trick, and he’s amazing, better than that magician at her sixth birthday, even.
