Author: Gileswench
Rating: PG13 for two cartoonish deaths
Summary: A powerful force fixes S6
Spoilers: Through As You Were
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc., etc., etc. I just let them have all the fun Joss won't. I own nothing except my twisted mind which you really don't want. Please don't sue.
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. Praise abjectly sought.
Distribution: If you've had my permission in the past, you have it now. All others, ask and ye shall receive.
Notes: This one comes to you courtesy of Teija's Gloveslap #79, which reads as follows: I HEREBY GLOVESLAP YOU GOT THE STONES. All of it. The Gloveslap is simple. Pick your least favorite season, or the season that made the least sense to you. Insert yourself into that season and tell the characters what they are doing wrong. Go off on Buffy for being an anorexic little bitch. Yell at the entire initiative for chipping Spike. Stomp on Glory's toes. That kind of thing. Only requirement? ....Make it funny!"
Dedication: To Teija for letting me blow off steam about everything I think is currently wrong with the show, but keeping me laughing about it. You rock, sweets!

Buffy stared at the plane tickets in Giles' hand. She couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone make it come out her mouth.

"Uh huh," she managed at last.

Giles' words continued, but Buffy barely heard them through her haze of confused misery. He'd barely finished when a short, plump woman in Birkenstocks and purple nail polish appeared and took the tickets from Giles. She slapped his face with them.

"What the -" he began.

"What the is right," the woman fumed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Going back to England?" he offered.

The woman was at least a foot shorter than he was, yet he found himself somewhat intimidated.

"Oh no you're not," she told him firmly. "You're staying here." She pushed Buffy over to him. "Look at her; she's a complete basket case. Set some boundaries, sure, but don't just desert her. Cut the kid some slack for fuck's sake. She got dragged out of Heaven by a bunch of nimrods who want her to sit up and say thank you for it, she's got the ultimate brat of a little sister to raise, no parents, no money, no education, and no way out and you think she's gonna be okay if you go away on top of all that?! You're supposed to be the smart one, you fuckhead! And as for you," she said as she rounded on the Slayer, "eat something, will you?! You're making Calista Flockhart look like Mama Cass."

Out if thin air, a platter of spaghetti carbonara appeared. The woman thrust it into Buffy's hands unceremoniously.

"And I want you to eat every single bite, do you hear?"

"Um...sure...?" the Slayer responded timidly.

"Now see here," Giles began, "I don't know who you are, but you can't just come in here and tell us all how to live our lives."

"Well it's about time someone with some common sense did," she retorted. "I've taken care of a few things for you, Buffy. Dawn is being taken away as we speak to finish her schooling at St. Trinian's School for Girls."

"Is it some kind of private school?" Buffy asked.

"It's a boarding school in England. Don't worry, I've arranged for her to spend every holiday there until she graduates...at the age of fifty."

"Really?"

For the first time all season, a glimmer of hope sparked in Buffy's eyes. She began to attack the plate of pasta with gusto.

"Also, I've talked to the Council. I've persuaded them that a penniless, homeless Slayer is likely to become a mentally unstable Slayer, which might not really be in their best interests. Your house is now paid off, and a generous monthly stipend will be deposited into your bank account. As for your friends..."

At this juncture, Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya and Spike all entered the room entirely so this story would be easier to write.

"What's up, Buff? Who's this person? Should I put a spell on her? Can I? Can I?"

Willow was silenced forever when a sixteen ton weight fell on her.

Tara blinked.

"That was unexpected."

"Look, trust me, you're better off without her."

"But what will I do? Willow was what made me special."

The woman put an arm around Tara's shoulders.

"Have you ever considered art therapy? You gotta raise your self- esteem, girl. And speaking of therapy..." She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a business card which she handed to Xander and Anya. "This guy specializes in couples counseling. Please, for the love of God, see him before you set a wedding date."

"Guh?" Xander said.

The woman rolled her eyes.

"Mouth looks better closed, Xander. I swear all your brains dribbled out in about season four. And as for you," the woman snorted as she turned on Spike, "you haven't been worth two pins since you got that stupid chip in your head. I mean, come on! You used to be the scourge of Europe. You've killed two Slayers! Now you play lapdog to the Slayer and say you're in love with her? You're so not in love. You just know you're toast if she decides to let the underworld know she's not playing house with you anymore. You're pathetic."

"Am not!" the vampire pouted.

"Are too! Harmony dumped you! *Harmony*! And you make fun of Xander? Can we introduce Mr. Pot to Mr. Kettle? On second thought..."

The woman pulled a stake out of a conveniently placed pocket and dusted Spike easily. She wiped off her hands and turned to Buffy.

"That's how it's done, honey. Just remember, vampires suck. Don't date them, don't sleep with them, don't let them tell you what you are or what you should be."

The woman surveyed her handiwork. Giles had merrily set fire to his plane tickets, Buffy was giggling as she wolfed down pasta, Alistair Sim was busily hauling Dawn away, Spike and Willow were no more, Tara already seemed more confident, Xander and Anya were dialing the counselor's number, and somewhere in Belize, there came the satisfying sound of Riley Finn exploding before anyone could think of bringing him back to Sunnydale to rub Buffy's nose in his shiny new life. The woman grinned.

"Damn, I'm good," she said to no one in particular.

As she turned to go, Buffy and Giles came forward to talk to her one last time.

"Whatever can we do to thank you?" Giles asked, since Buffy's mouth was too full of the eclair she was eating to do the honors.

The woman took their hands and smiled at them.

"All you need to do is listen to me once in a while, and everything will be great. That, and don't let anyone or anything get between you."

"But...but who are you?" Giles asked.

"The name's Wench; Gileswench."

Buffy glared at Giles.

"You have a wench? Since when do you have a wench? I'm not going to find her running around in your shirt, am I?"

Gileswench smiled.

"Only in my dreams. Here, in your reality, he's all yours."

She gave them both enthusiastic - and in Buffy's case, sticky - hugs. At the door, she turned one more time and spoke.

"Tabula Rasa, baby."

She disappeared as the Scoobies...well, those who were left, began to face their problems sensibly.

THE END