Summary: Sarah's just your average girl.
Word Count: 630
A/N: This was written in response to thoughts on the Buffyverse perpetuating women's body image issues. Banner by the wonderful ladyofthelog
That Old Gang of Mine (Best Gen) and Bring on the Night (Best Dark) @ No Rest for the Wicked Awards - Round 4
Sarah wears glasses and wishes she could get contacts or Lasik, but she can't (astygmatism and her family couldn't afford a Christmas tree last year so laser surgery? Yeah right.). She's got a little pudge around the waist so she wears long t-shirts two sizes too big and baggy jeans to hide her thighs. Her acne's gotten worse--when she goes for her annual check-up, Dr. Franklin says something about hormones and tells her it's all perfectly natural. Natural... yeah, right. She's pretty sure she inherited it from her mama naturally, so thanks a lot, Mom (not that she really blames her mama, she just kinda wishes her mama hadn't given her the acne gene, okay?).
Her hair is kinda limp, just straight and mousey brown, like her daddy's before he went bald and she's so glad she can't inherit the bald gene from her dad (she can't, can she?). She tried dyeing it blonde once with some cheap dye she bought from the RiteAid and cried for three hours when her hair turned orange (she wore a hat to school for almost a week until she'd saved up enough to dye it back). She doesn't dye her hair anymore. She doesn't go shopping for dresses like the ones all the popular girls at school wear 'cause she can never find one that fits (not that she could've afforded one anyways but she just wanted to play Cinderella in front of the store's dressing room mirror).
She's too scared to go on diets. She once fainted during gym class 'cause she'd read about fasting in a health magazine; she only made it three days living on vegetable broth. Her mama tells her she's not fat, not really, but Sarah knows she's not exactly skinny either and she's so sick of her mama describing her as bigboned and beautiful (as if she could be both, yeah right). Guys don't ask her out on dates. She's not sure if it's cause she's "ugly" or 'cause she's unpopular. Only even the unpopular guys don't look twice at her so it must be 'cause she's ugly.
She's not skinny and she's not pretty and did she mention she flunked Algebra? So she's not even smart. She doesn't fit in with any cliques or crowds. She's just... not.
On a Tuesday morning she's sitting in Chemistry staring at her notes, avoiding eye contact so Mr. Williams doesn't call on her, when this crash of power punches her in the gut. She feels strange and strong and kinda sick, but it's the strong that stays with her, stronger than she's ever been, and that night she dreams about fighting monsters and dying. A man with a British accent rings her doorbell a week later. Her mama offers him tea and blushes bright red when he hesitates before accepting the glass filled with ice and sweet sugary goodness, but doesn't take so much as a sip. When he tells Sarah she's been Chosen, Sarah cries.
Not 'cause she's scared. No, 'cause someone finally wants her and she's been waiting for this moment for so long and it feels even more wonderful than she'd ever dreamed it could feel. Her mama hugs her and begs her to stay, to finish school, but Sarah doesn't hesitate, just kisses her parents goodbye and turns towards destiny. She's gonna be a superhero and save the world. She's special now and the world is waiting for her.
Two weeks later, the Watcher's Council sends Sarah's body home. In the Watcher's Diaries one chronicler remarks that they all should've known Sarah Walker's calling was a bizarre twist of fate. Sometimes the predestined wires get crossed. It's inexplicable, really.
You see, all Slayers are hot chicks. Every. Single. One.