Title:The Chosen
Disclaimer: Um…I'm brokes, so I guess they're not mine. Feel free to give 'em to me, though.
Category: Buffy/Roswell Crossover.
Author's Note: Okey doke! This is my first Roswell fic…well, that actually got this close to the end. Send me feedback if you want *shrugs* No skin off my back. Actually, I'm lying. Send me lots of feedback!!!
It was a cold, still night. Almost every soul was walking the streets, enjoying the stillness and the full moon. A few stayed inside enjoying the warmth of heaters that were hardly used in this usually hot town.
Meanwhile, in a small hose in the heart of the town, seven mourners were gathered in silence, pondering their next action about their deceased companion.
"Can't we do a resurrection spell?"
"It's dangerous Dawn," Willow replied," besides, it didn't work the last time you tried."
"Actually, it did but I tore up the picture, I stopped the spell."
"Well, I suppose it's worth a shot," Giles murmured, fumbling with his glasses.
"Well then," Spike grinned "let's go get us some eggs!"
They sat in silence at the Crashdown Café, contemplating the events of the past week. The betrayal, discovery and most of all, the pain of the loss of what is, was and might have been.
Suddenly the silence was broken by hysterical laughter. All but Michael looked at her strangely.
"Deluca, have you finally lost it?" Kyle asked.
"Yeah…what have you been sniffing?"
"No-nothing," she choked out between giggles. Suddenly, Michael started laughing, too, leaving the rest of them dumbfounded.
"Okay, what's the joke?"
"It's…just…"
"Ironic, you know?" Michael finished.
"What is?"
"Our life." The couple answered in unison.
"O…kay, what are you on?"
"Czech weed," they replied.
"Okay, is anyone else really freaked out by this?" Isabel asked.
"Michael stayed for me, the one who wanted to leave the most."
"Tess was bad, Courtney was good, Valenti was good, Topolski was good, Nasedo was bad," Michael listed off with his fingers, "irony."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Tess and Nasedo were supposed to be on our side but they planned to kill us."
"Yeah, and Courtney was a Skin. She was supposed to be our enemy and she was on our side…well, Michael's side anyway."
"Anybody else feel out of the loop here?" Kyle asked watching the pair like they had grow three heads.
"Yeah, since when does Michael giggle?" Liz asked. She had to duck from the sudden ice ambush.
"Okay, I want some of that weed."
"Courtney, remember her? She was one of the rebel Skins that thought that Michael should be king instead of Max, hence the puppy-like actions," Maria said after finally calming down. Michael blushed and studied the tabletop.
"Oh…okay," Kyle said, "not that funny though."
"I'm just hyper, don't worry about it," Maria said.
"What's your excuse, Guerin?" asked Kyle. Michael shrugged and they both scowled at Kyle.
"Weird," Max whispered to Liz.
After a tiring battle to get the eggs (I forget the name) the Scooby Gang headed back to Giles' house. They had just performed the spell and they were waiting for the resurrection of the World's best Slayer.
"So, how long do we have to wait?" asked Tara.
"About an hour." Willow answered.
"Oh."
"So, when are we gonna go look for the third Slayer," Spike asked.
"What Slayer?"
"If you've forgotten the rules already, when a Slayer dies, a new one is called. Buffy died…again. There should be another one called."
Just then, the doorbell rang. It was a Fed-Ex guy with a package for Giles.
"What is it?" Willow asked.
"Is it a new cash register?" Anya asked.
"It's from the Watchers' Council." Giles answered as he opened the package, "It's information on the new Slayer."
"Cool, name?"
"Maria Deluca…lives in Roswell, New Mexico."
"Road Trip?"
"No, they sent plane tickets."
"For all of us?" Xander asked.
"Yes, quite strange…"
"What is?"
"They sent eight tickets."
"So?"
"There's seven of us."
"Actually there's eight," a new voice answered from behind them.
"Buffy?"
"In the flesh."
It was Friday night and the Crashdown was jam-packed. Maria was stuck in the closing shift with Agnes, the most incompetent waitress alive and the three brats at table five were not helping her mood. She was getting more pissed off by the second. Liz had left her all alone with Agnes on the busiest night in the Crashdown just so she and Max could go restart their googly eyed stare-athon.
"Maria, I'm going on a break."
"WHAT?!! You went on break like five minutes ago. The place is packed!"
Agnes replied by walking out the door and lighting up a cigarette.
"Great, just great."
"Excuse me, miss?"
"Yeah?"
"We've been waiting for over ten minutes."
"Sure, sorry. What would you like?"
"Three Sigourney Weavers and three Alien Blasts."
"Okay, it should be ready in ten minutes." Maria turned and stalked off to the back room after handing the cook the order. She was going to kill Liz when she got back. A slow and painful death. Then, she was going to get Max to bring her back so she could restart the process…slower and more painfully. Then, she would get Agnes and treat her to the same fate.
"Am I interrupting something?" a voice asked from behind her.
"Yeah. My plans to mutilate Liz."
"Oh, cool. Can I help?"
"Sure, Michael. Go get an apron."
"I meant with the mutilating."
"Please?" she whined.
"No way."
"Pretty please, Spaceboy?"
"Hell no."
"Come on. I'll make it up to you."
"Fine, but there's no way I'm wearing that skirt thing. It'll make me look fat," he joked.
"Aww, but it'll look so cute."
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"Serve the hungry."
An hour later, the Crashdown was still in its packed state. Michael had long since stopped trying to be nice at customers for tips and went back to his old rude self. Maria was jealous of him though, because the kids in his section were all well behaved after their first encounter with him. He got tips anyway by the shocked parents of the brats. Her section, however, had all the hell spawn imaginable and she was nowhere near as intimidating as her alien counterpart was.
She was brought of her thoughts by a cold sensation running down her chest. One of her brats threw a Blood of Alien Smoothie at her when their parent wasn't looking. You could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears. She was seriously pissed. That was the third smoothie she had poured on her, not even considering the two alien blasts and cokes.
"Oh, Honey are you all right?" the brat's mother asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," she ground out as she turned away, "I enjoy being covered in freezing cold drinks." She mumbled.
Michael, who saw that Maria was getting really pissed really fast, decided that it was time for a little extraterrestrial intervention.
"Hey, babe, why don't you go take a break. I'll take care of it."
"But…"
"Go ahead. It'll be fine."
Maria spun on her heel and slid across the floor on some leftover smoothie. She landed flat on her back and let out a cry of rage and frustration. The screech that erupted from the tiny blond was enough to silence the whole restaurant.
"Maria, are you okay?" asked Michael as he stooped down next to her.
"Yeah, just seriously pissed," she grumbled.
"Oh dear," the brat's mother said, "you really should be more careful."
"Yeah," she said to the woman, the she added under her breath, "should've hit you with a tray."
Michael heard her and snickered quietly. He handed her the cypress oil that had fallen out of her pocket when she fell. She unscrewed the cap and inhaled deeply.
"Oh my God! How dare you do drugs in front of my children! This is not proper behavior for a restaurant employee."
"Well, if you don't like the fact that I am using aromatherapy oils to prevent myself from lashing out at you and screaming obscenities at your face, you can get the hell out of the restaurant and return when someone without nerves for you to get on is here instead of me," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. One she picked up from Topolski. The woman just scoffed in outrage, dropped her money on the table and got the hell out of there with her spawn trailing behind her. Maria got up and looked at the rest of her stunned customers. When she turned her scowl on them they returned to their greasy alien-themed food.
An hour later, the restaurant was semi empty. Only half the tables were occupied. One of which held Isabel, Kyle, Max and Liz, who were staring at each other as per usual. Between the two of them, Michael and Maria had their customers whipped into shape so to speak. Michael was scary looking and half the town heard of Maria's controlled blow out. It was almost closing time and the group was going to have another pity/planning fest due to the fact that they had nothing better to do with their lives, or more like they didn't know what else to do.
At closing time, the last customer had just strolled out the door leaving the lone group to their plans. Michael flopped himself down in the booth next to Isabel.
"What? Being civil to strangers wear you out?" she asked with a laugh.
"Yeah. Remind me never to do that again."
Maria laughed as she made her way to the door to lock up for the night. She was worn out and really frustrated by the previous crowd. Just as she was about to turn the sign to "closed" the door burst open.
"I'm sorry, but we're closed," she said as she tried to push the burly man out. No such luck. The man spun her around and held her against his chest from behind. He pointed the cold barrel of a gun to the side of her head.
"Everybody down!" he shouted, "You! Blondie! Get the dough out of the cash register before I redecorate this place with her brains."
The Pod Squad obliged while a terrified Isabel made her way to the cash register. She began to put the money into a Crashdown bag. Max, Liz and Kyle all looked scared, Michael just looked pissed. Maria had an identically pissed look on her face too. Her face was red with the pent up rage from the day.
Suddenly, she grabbed the man's hand and flipped him over her shoulder. She twisted his arm as he attempted to shoot her. A loud cracking sound was heard in the dead silent room as his arm was broken and shoulder was nearly ripped off his body. Her friends looked on in stunned silence as she proceeded in beating the crap out of the guy. She landed a foot in his backside and another resounding crack was heard. Satisfied that he wasn't moving any time soon, she calmly walked over to the phone and called the sheriff. Michael who was also frustrated and angry walked over and punched the guy again for good measure. Satisfied that he got in on a little of the action, he sat back down at the booth and leaned his head back. Maria immediately planted herself on his lap and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. They both fell into a peaceful sleep.
"Weird," said Kyle.
The next day, the Pod Squad sat out in the desert, at the quarry where they usually met. They had a lot to talk about. Two of them had a lot of explaining to do.
"So, uh, what happened yesterday," asked Max, finally.
"Agnes was being lazy…" Maria said.
"…And you and Liz were having a stare-athon." Michael continued.
"As per usual," they said in unison.
"Okay, what the hell is up with that?" Isabel asked.
"With what Izzy?" they asked in unison.
"That! The finishing sentences and talking in unison thing. It's really creepy."
"We don't know Iz," Michael said.
"We don't even realize when we're doing it," Maria added.
"It's just… natural," they said together.
"Did you guys plan this or something?" Kyle asked. They scowled at him.
"You guys are acting like each other," Liz said, studying their identical scowls. The perpetual scowl that she thought only Michael could pull off. Apparently Maria could too.
"We do not!" they huffed Maria style.
"Okay, we are not getting anywhere with this," Max said, creeped out by the display, "Maria, when did you learn to fight like that?"
"I don't know," she said, "It was like something inside of me just snapped and all of a sudden I was flipping that guy over my shoulder and landing my foot in his butt, literally."
"You think this is a Czechoslovakian thing?" Michael asked. They all looked at him strangely. Even he looked puzzled by the words that just came out of his mouth.
"This is getting extremely weird," Kyle mumbled to Isabel. She just nodded in response.
Disclaimer: Um…I'm brokes, so I guess they're not mine. Feel free to give 'em to me, though.
Category: Buffy/Roswell Crossover.
Author's Note: Okey doke! This is my first Roswell fic…well, that actually got this close to the end. Send me feedback if you want *shrugs* No skin off my back. Actually, I'm lying. Send me lots of feedback!!!
It was a cold, still night. Almost every soul was walking the streets, enjoying the stillness and the full moon. A few stayed inside enjoying the warmth of heaters that were hardly used in this usually hot town.
Meanwhile, in a small hose in the heart of the town, seven mourners were gathered in silence, pondering their next action about their deceased companion.
"Can't we do a resurrection spell?"
"It's dangerous Dawn," Willow replied," besides, it didn't work the last time you tried."
"Actually, it did but I tore up the picture, I stopped the spell."
"Well, I suppose it's worth a shot," Giles murmured, fumbling with his glasses.
"Well then," Spike grinned "let's go get us some eggs!"
They sat in silence at the Crashdown Café, contemplating the events of the past week. The betrayal, discovery and most of all, the pain of the loss of what is, was and might have been.
Suddenly the silence was broken by hysterical laughter. All but Michael looked at her strangely.
"Deluca, have you finally lost it?" Kyle asked.
"Yeah…what have you been sniffing?"
"No-nothing," she choked out between giggles. Suddenly, Michael started laughing, too, leaving the rest of them dumbfounded.
"Okay, what's the joke?"
"It's…just…"
"Ironic, you know?" Michael finished.
"What is?"
"Our life." The couple answered in unison.
"O…kay, what are you on?"
"Czech weed," they replied.
"Okay, is anyone else really freaked out by this?" Isabel asked.
"Michael stayed for me, the one who wanted to leave the most."
"Tess was bad, Courtney was good, Valenti was good, Topolski was good, Nasedo was bad," Michael listed off with his fingers, "irony."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Tess and Nasedo were supposed to be on our side but they planned to kill us."
"Yeah, and Courtney was a Skin. She was supposed to be our enemy and she was on our side…well, Michael's side anyway."
"Anybody else feel out of the loop here?" Kyle asked watching the pair like they had grow three heads.
"Yeah, since when does Michael giggle?" Liz asked. She had to duck from the sudden ice ambush.
"Okay, I want some of that weed."
"Courtney, remember her? She was one of the rebel Skins that thought that Michael should be king instead of Max, hence the puppy-like actions," Maria said after finally calming down. Michael blushed and studied the tabletop.
"Oh…okay," Kyle said, "not that funny though."
"I'm just hyper, don't worry about it," Maria said.
"What's your excuse, Guerin?" asked Kyle. Michael shrugged and they both scowled at Kyle.
"Weird," Max whispered to Liz.
After a tiring battle to get the eggs (I forget the name) the Scooby Gang headed back to Giles' house. They had just performed the spell and they were waiting for the resurrection of the World's best Slayer.
"So, how long do we have to wait?" asked Tara.
"About an hour." Willow answered.
"Oh."
"So, when are we gonna go look for the third Slayer," Spike asked.
"What Slayer?"
"If you've forgotten the rules already, when a Slayer dies, a new one is called. Buffy died…again. There should be another one called."
Just then, the doorbell rang. It was a Fed-Ex guy with a package for Giles.
"What is it?" Willow asked.
"Is it a new cash register?" Anya asked.
"It's from the Watchers' Council." Giles answered as he opened the package, "It's information on the new Slayer."
"Cool, name?"
"Maria Deluca…lives in Roswell, New Mexico."
"Road Trip?"
"No, they sent plane tickets."
"For all of us?" Xander asked.
"Yes, quite strange…"
"What is?"
"They sent eight tickets."
"So?"
"There's seven of us."
"Actually there's eight," a new voice answered from behind them.
"Buffy?"
"In the flesh."
It was Friday night and the Crashdown was jam-packed. Maria was stuck in the closing shift with Agnes, the most incompetent waitress alive and the three brats at table five were not helping her mood. She was getting more pissed off by the second. Liz had left her all alone with Agnes on the busiest night in the Crashdown just so she and Max could go restart their googly eyed stare-athon.
"Maria, I'm going on a break."
"WHAT?!! You went on break like five minutes ago. The place is packed!"
Agnes replied by walking out the door and lighting up a cigarette.
"Great, just great."
"Excuse me, miss?"
"Yeah?"
"We've been waiting for over ten minutes."
"Sure, sorry. What would you like?"
"Three Sigourney Weavers and three Alien Blasts."
"Okay, it should be ready in ten minutes." Maria turned and stalked off to the back room after handing the cook the order. She was going to kill Liz when she got back. A slow and painful death. Then, she was going to get Max to bring her back so she could restart the process…slower and more painfully. Then, she would get Agnes and treat her to the same fate.
"Am I interrupting something?" a voice asked from behind her.
"Yeah. My plans to mutilate Liz."
"Oh, cool. Can I help?"
"Sure, Michael. Go get an apron."
"I meant with the mutilating."
"Please?" she whined.
"No way."
"Pretty please, Spaceboy?"
"Hell no."
"Come on. I'll make it up to you."
"Fine, but there's no way I'm wearing that skirt thing. It'll make me look fat," he joked.
"Aww, but it'll look so cute."
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"Serve the hungry."
An hour later, the Crashdown was still in its packed state. Michael had long since stopped trying to be nice at customers for tips and went back to his old rude self. Maria was jealous of him though, because the kids in his section were all well behaved after their first encounter with him. He got tips anyway by the shocked parents of the brats. Her section, however, had all the hell spawn imaginable and she was nowhere near as intimidating as her alien counterpart was.
She was brought of her thoughts by a cold sensation running down her chest. One of her brats threw a Blood of Alien Smoothie at her when their parent wasn't looking. You could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears. She was seriously pissed. That was the third smoothie she had poured on her, not even considering the two alien blasts and cokes.
"Oh, Honey are you all right?" the brat's mother asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," she ground out as she turned away, "I enjoy being covered in freezing cold drinks." She mumbled.
Michael, who saw that Maria was getting really pissed really fast, decided that it was time for a little extraterrestrial intervention.
"Hey, babe, why don't you go take a break. I'll take care of it."
"But…"
"Go ahead. It'll be fine."
Maria spun on her heel and slid across the floor on some leftover smoothie. She landed flat on her back and let out a cry of rage and frustration. The screech that erupted from the tiny blond was enough to silence the whole restaurant.
"Maria, are you okay?" asked Michael as he stooped down next to her.
"Yeah, just seriously pissed," she grumbled.
"Oh dear," the brat's mother said, "you really should be more careful."
"Yeah," she said to the woman, the she added under her breath, "should've hit you with a tray."
Michael heard her and snickered quietly. He handed her the cypress oil that had fallen out of her pocket when she fell. She unscrewed the cap and inhaled deeply.
"Oh my God! How dare you do drugs in front of my children! This is not proper behavior for a restaurant employee."
"Well, if you don't like the fact that I am using aromatherapy oils to prevent myself from lashing out at you and screaming obscenities at your face, you can get the hell out of the restaurant and return when someone without nerves for you to get on is here instead of me," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. One she picked up from Topolski. The woman just scoffed in outrage, dropped her money on the table and got the hell out of there with her spawn trailing behind her. Maria got up and looked at the rest of her stunned customers. When she turned her scowl on them they returned to their greasy alien-themed food.
An hour later, the restaurant was semi empty. Only half the tables were occupied. One of which held Isabel, Kyle, Max and Liz, who were staring at each other as per usual. Between the two of them, Michael and Maria had their customers whipped into shape so to speak. Michael was scary looking and half the town heard of Maria's controlled blow out. It was almost closing time and the group was going to have another pity/planning fest due to the fact that they had nothing better to do with their lives, or more like they didn't know what else to do.
At closing time, the last customer had just strolled out the door leaving the lone group to their plans. Michael flopped himself down in the booth next to Isabel.
"What? Being civil to strangers wear you out?" she asked with a laugh.
"Yeah. Remind me never to do that again."
Maria laughed as she made her way to the door to lock up for the night. She was worn out and really frustrated by the previous crowd. Just as she was about to turn the sign to "closed" the door burst open.
"I'm sorry, but we're closed," she said as she tried to push the burly man out. No such luck. The man spun her around and held her against his chest from behind. He pointed the cold barrel of a gun to the side of her head.
"Everybody down!" he shouted, "You! Blondie! Get the dough out of the cash register before I redecorate this place with her brains."
The Pod Squad obliged while a terrified Isabel made her way to the cash register. She began to put the money into a Crashdown bag. Max, Liz and Kyle all looked scared, Michael just looked pissed. Maria had an identically pissed look on her face too. Her face was red with the pent up rage from the day.
Suddenly, she grabbed the man's hand and flipped him over her shoulder. She twisted his arm as he attempted to shoot her. A loud cracking sound was heard in the dead silent room as his arm was broken and shoulder was nearly ripped off his body. Her friends looked on in stunned silence as she proceeded in beating the crap out of the guy. She landed a foot in his backside and another resounding crack was heard. Satisfied that he wasn't moving any time soon, she calmly walked over to the phone and called the sheriff. Michael who was also frustrated and angry walked over and punched the guy again for good measure. Satisfied that he got in on a little of the action, he sat back down at the booth and leaned his head back. Maria immediately planted herself on his lap and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. They both fell into a peaceful sleep.
"Weird," said Kyle.
The next day, the Pod Squad sat out in the desert, at the quarry where they usually met. They had a lot to talk about. Two of them had a lot of explaining to do.
"So, uh, what happened yesterday," asked Max, finally.
"Agnes was being lazy…" Maria said.
"…And you and Liz were having a stare-athon." Michael continued.
"As per usual," they said in unison.
"Okay, what the hell is up with that?" Isabel asked.
"With what Izzy?" they asked in unison.
"That! The finishing sentences and talking in unison thing. It's really creepy."
"We don't know Iz," Michael said.
"We don't even realize when we're doing it," Maria added.
"It's just… natural," they said together.
"Did you guys plan this or something?" Kyle asked. They scowled at him.
"You guys are acting like each other," Liz said, studying their identical scowls. The perpetual scowl that she thought only Michael could pull off. Apparently Maria could too.
"We do not!" they huffed Maria style.
"Okay, we are not getting anywhere with this," Max said, creeped out by the display, "Maria, when did you learn to fight like that?"
"I don't know," she said, "It was like something inside of me just snapped and all of a sudden I was flipping that guy over my shoulder and landing my foot in his butt, literally."
"You think this is a Czechoslovakian thing?" Michael asked. They all looked at him strangely. Even he looked puzzled by the words that just came out of his mouth.
"This is getting extremely weird," Kyle mumbled to Isabel. She just nodded in response.