Chapter 3: Instincts

A/N: So I really, really wanted to make references to Fight Club and Gladiator in this chapter, but wouldn't you know? They came out after 1997, when this fic takes place in the Buffy-verse. *grumble, grumble*

All in all, 'The Pit' was a pretty misleading name.

Honestly, it sounded like something that involved cages. Either that, or something similar to those ridiculous movies Xander had made her watch once during his Jean Claude Van Damme marathon.

But this? This was less 'Lionheart' and more like the real deal, from the sandy, oval-shaped arena right down to the stadium seating. In fact, to her (admittedly history-oblivious) eye, the only major difference was that the actual Colosseum was outdoors while this place was completely enclosed. Hell, in some ways, it seemed even more authentic than the original.

Here, the stench of blood, sweat, and dirt still permeated the air.

Almost involuntarily, Buffy took a deep breath, only to wince as the heavy air hit the back of her throat.

Yeah, it was like taking a step back in history, all right. Too bad she was on the wrong side of it – especially since it looked like the 'right side' was standing room only.

Buffy eyed the crowd warily. She had never seen so many vamps and other assorted creatures of the night in one place before. The arena was practically vibrating with supernatural mojo, and it was a little unnerving, to say the least.

Apparently, they hadn't seen anyone like her, either, because a noticeable hush had come over the crowd the second she was shoved into the ring. Now, as Thalia introduced her as a Brit-whatever, Buffy could hear a pin drop.

The whole place stayed eerily quiet like that for a full minute, until a noise at the other end of the arena broke the spell.

Her 'opponent' had entered the ring.

She was a vampire, tall and slender with red hair. As soon as she saw Buffy, she snarled, the sound of her fangs extending echoed through the Pit. Then, clearly deciding not to waste any time, she attacked, racing toward Buffy so quickly, she almost seemed to blur.

For the tiniest second, Buffy froze.

Up until that very moment, she had been plotting what she would do, going over a million and one options until her contingency plans had contingency plans – and none of them included actually fighting. As the vamp's hand clawed for her throat, however, all her plans got booted out the window as her instincts kicked in.

Before the vamp's arm could make contact, Buffy grabbed it and used the vamp's momentum against her, hurling her into a wall.

The crowd cheered, but Buffy barely heard it. Her entire focus was on the vampire, who, having already recovered, was currently rushing at her with that lightning fast speed that was getting to be very annoying.

This time the vampire managed to clip Buffy on the shoulder. It wasn't a huge hit, but it was enough to throw her off balance.

Seeing her advantage, the vampire lunged, again reaching for Buffy's throat.

Again, Buffy was able to counter this pretty easily, blocking the vampire with one arm while using the other to deliver a blow to the vamp's midsection.

They fought like that for several minutes, where Buffy blocked any move the vampire made before responding with her own. As hit after hit of hers landed, something occurred to Buffy.

This vampire wasn't a fighter, not really. She moved clumsily, leaving herself open with almost every move. It was only her strength and speed that made her a formidable opponent at all.

They were testing her, she realized, giving her an 'easy' opponent to see what she could do.

Well, they'd get no complaints from Buffy. All the vamps she had ever faced before this seemed to be sired with an innate sense of martial arts, which, aside from defying explanation, was so not what she needed right now – because although she hated to admit it, she had been out of the slaying game for awhile, and it showed; in her reflexes, in her speed, in her strength, everything. Plus, there was that whole taser business, which she hadn't totally recovered from. And she was seriously lacking in a useful weapon.

Almost as if someone were reading her mind – which, considering the crowd, was entirely possible – a sword dropped into the arena just then, blade down in the sand less than thirty feet away.

Knocking the vampire flat on her ass with a well-placed kick, Buffy sprinted over to the sword and yanked it out of the ground. It was a well-made blade; heavy but sharp, with perfect balance. And it fit perfectly in her hand.

She saw the nervousness enter the vampire's eyes as she wielded the sword.

"You could always say 'uncl—" Buffy started to suggest.

Before she could finish her sentence, the vampire was practically on top of her again.

With a grunt, Buffy swung out and sliced the vampire on her arm. Following the momentum of her stroke, she then spun around and struck again, this time aiming for a leg. She found her mark, opening up a gash that cut deep into her opponent's thigh.

As the vampire fell to her knees, Buffy held the sword high – and paused.

It was a vampire. She was a Vampire Slayer. And yet... she couldn't. She couldn't kill just for someone else's kicks.

No, more than that; she refused to.

Flipping the sword in her hand, Buffy grasped the blade and hit the vampire with the butt of the sword, hard enough to knock her out.

The vampire fell unceremoniously to the ground.

Breathing hard, Buffy looked up, immediately seeking out Thalia. As their eyes met, she glared, challenging the vampire to make the next move. Thalia merely looked amused, and, after a beat, nodded her approval.

As the crowd began applauding, the enormity of the situation, of what she had done, finally hit Buffy, and there was a sudden weakness in her knees that had nothing to do with being tasered.

Feeling angrier than she could express, her hand tightened around her sword.

She had half a mind to hurl the blade straight at Thalia and go from there. After a long moment, however, she dropped it, and the blade fell harmlessly into the sand at her feet with a dull thud. Almost immediately, two guards entered the arena, presumably to escort her out, with their tasers at the ready.

They were unnecessary, though. Without any prodding, Buffy walked to the exit on her own volition.

Though it pained her to do so, anything else would be suicide, and if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was to survive.