Title: Wishful
Author: Khylaren
Contact: Khylaren@yahoo.com
Fandom: BTVS/PoTC
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; they are the property of Joss Whedon and Disney. No money is being made from this story; it is written purely for entertainment.
Warnings: strange crossovers

Note: Written for CinnamonGrrl’s drabble challenge.

< > < > < >

Buffy glared sourly at Anya.

“I cannot believe you!,” she shouted at the once-again demon. “When I said I wished for a black pearl, I meant JEWELRY!”

Anya pouted, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “There’s no need to yell,” she sniffed. “I’m standing right next to you.”  She eyed the irate slayer peevishly. “Really, it’s not my fault you weren’t specific.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and gestured to the lovely stretch of Caribbean beach, complete with crystal blue water and palm trees. “And in what part of my ‘I wish I had a black pearl’ wish did you hear ‘Strand me on a beach out in the middle of the Caribbean while you’re at it?”

The vengeance demon looked at her nails, buffing them lightly against her pink halter-top. “I thought a little atmosphere would go well with the ship.”  She heard Buffy sputter like a boiling teakettle and sighed in exasperation. “Really. It’s not like I’d strand you here all by yourself.”

The slayer eyed her carefully. “I hope you mean that in a ‘because I’m here’ kind of way.”

Anya grinned cheekily. “Nope. Have fun!”  And with a snap of her fingers, Anya disappeared.

“I should have slayed her ass when I had the chance,” Buffy muttered morosely, kicking the sand. “But no, I had to let a little thing like friendship stand in the way.”  With a sigh of disgust, she plopped her butt down on the sand and stared out at the water.

The Black Pearl was sailing away.

“Great,” Buffy groused. “Now I don’t even have my pearl. Just me, some palm trees, and a beach. Now all I need is…”

“Hello, luv. Come here often?” an overly cheerful masculine voice asked.

Buffy sprang to her feet and spun, her fists raised defensively in front of her. She looked at the man in front of her for a moment, and then shook her head. Long black hair, braided with small shiny objects, gold hoop earring, bandana, and white shirt with long floppy sleeves – it all pointed to one thing: the man was a pirate. The only thing missing was the parrot.

“No, no, no,” she said, backing away. “Too many late nights reading sappy swashbuckling romance novels.”

He smirked rakishly at her. “Give us a kiss, then, if romance is your game.”

He was handsome enough for her to briefly consider his offer. What am I thinking?? “No, no,” she said, still putting some distance between herself and the pirate. “No kissing. Thanks.”

The pirate looked momentarily crestfallen. “Ah well,” he said, taking her recently vacated spot on the beach. “Shame though. Could have used a kiss, now that the rum is gone.” He sighed wistfully. 

“The rum,” she repeated.

“Aye,” he said with a heavy sigh. “The rum.”

She was just about to ask what happened to the rum when she heard an eerily familiar and irritating noise. 

Buffy’s eyes snapped open and she stared up at the familiar landscape of her ceiling. The noise continued to grate annoyingly in her ear, and she rolled over in her bed, slamming her hand down on the snooze button of her alarm clock. She glanced at the time and groaned. Somehow, she’d managed to oversleep.

It all came back to her in a flash. Going to see Pirates of the Caribbean with Dawn, Willow, Tara and Anya. Dawn teasing her about her mouth hanging open every time Captain Jack Sparrow came on screen. Teasing Dawn in return about her drooling problem whenever Will Turner came on screen. It had been a fun, girl’s night out. No slaying, no fighting, no demons – well, except for Anya. Staying up way past Dawn’s bedtime, talking about Will and Jack and the romantic notion of pirates. Saying that if she’d been Elizabeth stranded on a beach with Jack Sparrow, she wouldn’t have let him get so drunk he passed out before he could kiss her.  The speculative gleam in Anya’s eyes as she said goodnight.

Buffy pulled her pillow over her head and groaned again. I’m such an idiot.

The rum had been gone.

~Fin