Disclaimer: Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and everything related to it, is owned by Joss Whedon and his gang. Star Wars, and all the materials and characters associated with it, belong to George Lucas and his bunch. I own NOTHING here!

Relax and enjoy. I wrote this little drabble to pass the time.

Buffy realizes something.

What The Slayer Saw

Two years . . .Two freakin' years since she had been dropped off by the portal on Coruscant-Yeah, yeah, Andrew, or for that matter Xander, would have been squealing like a couple of four-year-olds with presents upon discovering they had been dumped in the Star Wars universe. But not being a big Star Wars fan like those two, Buffy opted to curse any and every Power listening and observing her stranded leather covered rear, quietly hoping Willow would do her witchy thing, and get her the hell home!

Not meaning to whine . . .but when exactly did Slayer Buffy started getting what she wanted?

Instead of a quick rescue, Buffy ended up living, for two years, a life considered 'normal' by anyone's perspective. A relatively quiet life . . .Uncomplicated by anything sounding or looking like, oh, 'destiny' or 'duty'. Her Slayer advantages she kept to herself, especially if there were Jedi around. Buffy was uncertain how the Warriors of the Light would react to the Slayer's darker side-So, Buffy decided that discretion was really her best option, and stuck to that resolution; not that hard, with billions of beings to use as shields. Oh, yeah, Jedi . . .Xander and Andrew would have really gone nuts to know the portal had dropped her off at a time when the Jedi, and their gigantonormous temple, still stood.

And, holy crap, was that temple huge! Buffy took a public tour of it once-Another thing to cause Xander and Andrew to eat their little geek hearts out. Hell, they likely would have traded their first born for the experience . . .Especially if they got to witness a real live lightsaber spar between real Jedi, like she did.

Buffy had to sigh . . .Thinking of family and friends always brought up the undeniable truth that she was content with her current life, and did not want to return to her old life. And that lead to copious amounts of guilt, at not really missing the stress, the responsibility-The pretense that every act of stupid and betrayal was forgiven and forgotten. Dawn, of course, weighed heavily on her mind, but . . .if she was honest . . .as much as she loved her younger sister, was the girl enough to pull Buffy back to that Hell dimension?

A crash and a shout brought Buffy back to her current problems. Hmm, after a year of hard work and effort, Buffy finally had enough money to rent a sizable space in one of the buildings. The rent was cheap, given that it was down at ground level and no one wanted to rent it-In Coruscant, the higher the floor, the higher the rent. But Buffy poured into it copious amounts of hard labor and creativity, turning the bare, unwanted space into an Earth style nightclub. Success followed . . .Buffy's nightclub was a popular one.

Business was good. Life was good-Until the Jedi came to visit.

Buffy grimaced and toyed with a brightly colored drinking straw, while leaning forward against the bar counter, with her elbows on top of it . . .Decorated, fruity drinks and Ladies Night were her exciting introduction to Coruscant club life. As well as the bright, vibrant colors . . .

It was the colors, lots and lots of color, that fueled the success of her club. The ban on colors in the upper levels came from a combination of PC and the practical, since some species tended to communicate through color-To avoid offending or provoking anyone, most of the upper levels were void of color, except for three-Black, white, and gray. The color starved flocked to her club. Buffy eyed the small, colorful tube of plastic in her hands, while considering the last hour and a half when everything went to hell.

Behind Buffy, something shifted, glass crashed and broke, more things shifted and banged and thumped down to the floor. A little afterwards, dark deprecations were hissed out while something large slithered towards the entrance. Buffy ignored it.

When the braided Padawans came to visit they were like any regular customer. They laughed, smiled, ordered drinks they actually drank, and danced. They enjoyed themselves . . .Unlike their elders. The occasional Jedi would stroll in, a stoic and stiff creature, order a drink, but never touch it, then after a period of time get up and leave. No doubt checking out the place their children hung out in-Her club must have had good reviews, 'cause the Padawans kept coming back.

Then, not too long ago, a Jedi and a Padawan walked into her club. Might have been a set up for the standard bar joke, up until the shooting and hissing lightsabers and riot.

Amazing really, how a running, escaping group of people could cause so much damage-The lights for instance . . .How did someone decide throwing furniture at light fixtures was going to make things better? Or the rest rooms-Why did they attack the 'freshers? Buffy scowled down at the innocent straw. She allowed the sounds of the scuffle and struggle behind her to pass virtually unnoticed. The security officers and their prisoner went by followed by high-pitched screamed curses and threats. Buffy absently noted that while the sounds of abused furniture and breaking glass had muted a little, there were still three separate, unresolved, hmm, situations taking place between security and her customers.

Her customers . . .Buffy hoped they would forget, or at least forgive, what happen and come back in the future. But sadly, Buffy had no confidence in that outcome.

Well, at least they removed the body . . .

Now, while things where still crashing and breaking in the background, Buffy considered the cost of the clean up and rebuilding-Suing the dead victim, or even the Jedi, was out of the question. Her insurance carrier might pay for the damages-Not that Buffy was holding her breath waiting for that to happen!

The tragic subject of money and finances allowed a persistent distraction to slip to the forefront of her thoughts. It had to do with that Padawan . . .

Buffy had seen the movies (with Xander and Andrew insisting on it, avoiding any of the movies was a big NO). And thanks to them, she knew who the Big Bad was. The question spiting at her was should she try to do something? Should she try to alter the outcome of the Massacre?

Since her arrival, Buffy had been rolling those questions around her head . . .And once again, put them aside for another day. She still had time . . .Now, that Padawan . . .why was she getting that odd buzz of familiarity off of him? No! Wait! Not him . . .although he did seemed familiar-But no, not the Padawan . . .his lightsaber . . .? Buffy narrowed her eyes in thought.

She gasped and jerked up straight! Her eyes flying wide open!

"Holy crap!" Buffy exclaimed. "I just got my place trashed by freakin' Darth Vader!"

Alright, we know it wasn't Vader, but Anakin Skywalker. Buffy, though, is more likely to remember the weapon then the actor in a movie she's not that fond of.

The idea behind the gray, white and black colors came from other authors; I thought their reasoning sound though, after all we have that old no white after Labor Day rule, so offending someone with a particular color is possible; and animals like octopuses and squids communicate through color.

This story is complete. Thanks for reading it. Good bye!