Author's Note: Than you again to those of you who continue to leave such lovely reviews - I hope you feel free to keep letting me know what you think. Enjoy!
Chapter 4: Challenge
The moon rose over a horizon of blood.
Razor brought his bike roughly to a stand-still, kicking the support into place as if it were a disobedient dog. He lifted his gaze to the metal sign hanging below the venue doorway, ensuring it was the right place.
Bronze.
Satisfied, Razor dismounted, signalling for the two of his boys trailing behind him to follow. The club was saturated with the taste of victory. From behind the bar, three gang members were distributing the spoils, two of them freely pouring beer into waiting glasses from stocky metal barrels, the other throwing bottles of spirits into the crowd surrounding them.
Beyond, the stage was filled with cheering demons, looking down at the space below them with absorbed enthusiasm. Half-way between Razor and the stage, an elevated metal walkway similarly teemed with spectators.
His curiosity aroused, the gang leader began to shove his way towards the front – at first through force, although as soon as the Hellions released who it was who was wading through them they made way for him like royalty, sparks of fear in each of their eyes. When he finally found himself at the front of the crowd, he discovered that a circle of floor-space had been cleared directly in front of the stage, empty except for two figures circling each other at the very centre.
Mag acknowledged Razor with a respectful nod as soon as he was aware of his presence. His left wrist had a thick iron manacle wrapped around it, which in turn was connected to a hefty chain. At the other end of the chain, a bruised human male was equally bound.
Razor's maw broke into a smile.
He had seen the game before of course – many times over. The chain was just long enough not to impair the movement of each fighter blow for blow, although if either party attempted to pull away from the other, they would inexorably drag the other with them. This method of duelling served a number of useful purposes beyond adding an extra dimension to the fight itself, however. From the moment the opponent was bound, they realised that any attempt at escape would be entirely pointless. But more than that, the chain binding both parties gave a sense of equality to the duel – giving the condemned a sliver of desperate hope which ensured they fought fiercely to the end.
As for the duel in front of Razor, well, that hope was waning. Each of the human's blows were becoming slower and clumsier, deflected by Mag with a carefree ease which seemed to drive his opponent into a greater and greater frenzy, driven by the terror of a growing realisation. As the human charged forward again, Mag took out his legs from under him, letting him writhe in pain for a moment, then placed both hands on the chain, swinging his opponent above him in a great arc before slamming him mercilessly into the ground.
The crowd cheered, satiated as two fellow Hellions moved in to untie the wrist of the limp Human's body, dragging him towards the back entrance. Whether he was already dead or still clung to life by his fingers didn't matter. He had served his purpose, and there were plenty more where he had come from.
The Scoobies snapped to attention as they heard the door to the crypt swing open and closed, and as Spike began to casually descend the ladder. The look on his face as he turned to face the circle of expectation was not particularly amused.
"Either you lot back off, or I kick you out and you're on your own, alright?"
"Sorry," Willow apologised, as the group took a step or two backwards. "So, what did you find out?"
"Well, my usual sources as scattered, as you might guess. Lucky for you I happen to know a thing or two about staying unseen."
Xander look as though he was about to make a snide comment, but rather quickly decided to keep it to himself.
"Bulk of 'em seem to 've shacked up at that club you all used to love so much…"
"The Bronze?" Xander asked in surprise, before the corners of his mouth began to rise in spite of himself.
"Makes sense huh?" Willow added snidely. "I mean, where else is there in Sunnydale?"
"Did you happen to see the leader?" Tara asked.
"I didn't actually go in you know…." Spike answered, a long-suffering expression on his face. "Like I would just walk into a club filled to bursting with vamp hating demons – I'm not a complete moron. That being said, I did happen to see them dragging a body out into the alley. Looks like they've already started on the locals - if you take my meaning."
There was silence for a moment.
"So how do we get in there?" Anya asked bluntly. "I mean it's not like the leader is just going to come out to us if we all ask nicely?!"
"Why not?" Buffybot asked innocently, causing a number of sighs and awkward glances to emerge from the other scoobies.
"Buffy…" Tara began, only to be interrupted as Buffy continued.
"He really doesn't like me."
"But back to the point…" Anya began, stopping herself as she saw Xander raise a hand.
"Wait a minute," Dawn suggested, turning to Buffy. "What are you saying Buffy?"
"I think she's saying if we get her outside the Bronze, this guy Razor might come out to her," Xander deduced. "that right Buff?"
"That's a terrible plan," Anya stated, slapping Xander on the arm. "Xander! Why are you considering the terrible plan?"
"Hang on a sec," Spike considered, "Bot might have accidentally stumbled on something. Big man keeps his lackeys in line by showing how tough he is, right? Calling him out on it might cause the git to do something rash…"
"What, you think Buffybot could goad him into a one-on-one?" Willow asked. "That's way too dangerous! I only just finished putting her back together and now you want her to just go and knock on the door and ask for a fair fight?"
"Don't get your knickers in a twist red, we won't do it like that."
"What are you suggesting then?" Willow shot back sternly.
"I-is there any way we could bring him to us?" Tara asked softly. "Have the fight on our own terms I mean?"
Spike lowered his head, a half-smile on his lips. "Be nice if we could play it that way, not sure h-"
"Stragglers." Xander blurted out suddenly, and all eyes fell on him. "These Hellions, they're not like an army right? They're a gang. There's gotta be a few stragglers here and there right?"
"Right," Spike followed sceptically.
"So, we find one; have Buffy rough him up a bit – then send him packing to his boss," Xander explained, a cunning twinkle in his eye. "Buffy makes sure to drop the fact she's the slayer into the fight somewhere, and bait the gang leader to come get her" Xander turned to face Tara with a smile. "Somewhere we decide – thank you Tara."
She returned it, whilst the other Scoobies looked at each other thoughtfully for a few moments.
"It's a slightly less terrible plan." Anya admitted. "But have you thought about what happens if he turns up mad as hell with a horde of gun-toting demons just waiting to shoot holes in our soft waiting flesh?" She finished, stopping for a moment to catch her breath.
"My Anya, always the optimist..." Xander highlighted dryly.
"So we just pick somewhere we can make a quick getaway if it doesn't turn out the right way," Willow compromised. "We just have to find the right place is all…"
"That being said," Spike interjected, "This is likely the best chance you'll get to take these guys out. They won't fall for this stunt twice. It's either this, you lot bugger off out of Sunnydale, or get comfy down there in the sewers for a couple years and start picking 'em off one by one."
"Guerrilla warfare…" Xander whispered almost in awe, nodding slightly as he did so.
Willow narrowed her eyes, scrutinising her oldest friend for a moment. "Xander… You're thinking about 'Apocalypse Now' aren't you?"
"Absolutely not," Xander denied with a nervous lilt, "Not at all."
"I am not staying behind," Dawn insisted, crossing her arms petulantly.
Tara looked at the younger girl sympathetically, placing a hand on her upper arm. "Dawn…"
Dawn pulled away from her touch. "It's not like I'm going to be any less safe with you than anywhere else in this town,"
"It's pretty unlikely they'll find you here Dawnster…" Xander pointed out earnestly.
"You don't know that!" Dawn stopped herself, trying to collect her thoughts. "Look, I get it – you guys want to keep me safe. Maybe I'm even a liability or something. But I'm going to have to learn sometime, right? How old were you guys when you started fighting demons?"
"And you will Dawny," Willow assured her, "Just… just maybe with something a little less…"
"Bonkers," Spike clarified, giving a dismissive wave as he wandered away from the conversation.
"You promise?" Dawn asked, raising her eyebrows.
Willow shared a glance with Tara for a second, before turning back to give Dawn a small smile.
"Promise."
Finally. Dawn had made it no secret she despised the others around her perceiving her as nothing more than a little kid, someone who always needed saving and protecting. Losing her mother, and then her sister, the latter whom had given her life precisely because of Dawn had left her utterly devastated – but also reaffirmed her certainty that she was done standing behind others for protection all the time, being utterly helpless when evil came to her door. Next time she didn't want it to be Tara, Spike Xander or Willow to be the one to die because Dawn couldn't save herself.
Almost out of habit, Dawn's eyes were drawn to the Buffy-bot, standing somewhat apart from the other conversing Scoobies. Having got what is was she wanted from this conversation, Dawn quickly excused herself with a smile and walked over to her.
"How you doing Buffy?" Dawn asked.
"I am the same." Buffy stated plainly. "But thank you for asking!"
Dawn thought back to their last conversation, and the genuine worry she saw in Buffy. "Aren't you a little nervous about all this? The others are saying it's all pretty risky…"
Buffy shook her head. "I'm sure it will be fine." She said vacantly. "Willow is very smart, and I trust all of my friends."
"Yeah but… this 'Razor' guy – I mean he really hurt you last time."
"Don't worry about me Dawn." Buffybot reassured her innocently. "I am the Slayer. This is what I do. It's what I'm for."
Dawn forced a brave smile at the lie. "You're right. Hey, do you think when all this is over, you might be able to teach me a thing or two about, yknow, fighting and stuff?"
A look of confusion passed across Buffy's face. "I thought we were going to watch TV?"
Dawn's eye twitched. "After that."
Buffy's expression deepened into a slightly conflicted frown.
"I'd like to help Dawn. But I would not want to hurt you. You are my sister! It's my job to keep you safe."
"I'm sure you wouldn't" Dawn assured her, and Buffy's answering grin seemed to wash away the robot's doubts.
"Alright then. But can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"How do I teach you?" Buffy asked, wide-eyed and lips parted.
Dawn sighed. More and more as she talked to Buffybot she was coming around to understanding what it was like to have a baby sister rather than an older one.
As Dawn's focus returned to what was in front of her, she noticed Buffy's gaze suddenly seemed distant, her face almost thoughtful.
"Giles was my teacher. But Tara said he's gone."
"Oh," Dawn replied cautiously. "You only just heard about that, huh?"
"I think it's my fault."
"Buffy…" Dawn started, shaking her head.
She was suddenly interrupted as Spike approached, stopping just in front of the bot.
"Here," he said brusquely, shoving a small pile of clothes into Buffy's hands. "If you're gonna go around playing Slayer, you should at least try to look the part."
Buffy's face lit up like a sunrise. Much like a child having received her long-awaited birthday presents, Buffy began to breathlessly examine the soft red leather jacket, turquoise loose-turtleneck pullover and black jeans. It was a heart-warming sight, though Dawn hoped Buffy wouldn't take too much hope from a single thoughtful act.
Dawn held the jacket for her while Buffy dressed. As she turned it over absently in her hands, she noted a small white design on one of the lapels. She couldn't help but smile at the little unicorn as she handed it back to Buffy, who promptly wrapped the coat around herself with aplomb.
"Are these clothes more correct?" Buffy asked, clearly hoping for Dawn's approval.
Dawn nodded reassuringly. "You look nice. And fierce, of course. Those demons won't stand a chance." She hoped that was true.
Buffy quickly looked over to Willow, who also gave her a friendly thumbs up.
"Alright gang," Willow called out, signalling the scoobies to attention. "We'd better get started."
Razor puffed softly on his cigar, allowing the smoke to fill his mouth with the usual subtle rush, before slowly exhaling the fumes through his nostrils. He leaned against the metal railing of the walkway high above the floor of the Bronze, looking down on his new kingdom below. Razor knew that this was only the beginning. After the Hellions gang finally rode out of the desiccated husk of Sunnydale, there would be rivals determined to bring him down. Razor's prestige would be greater than it had ever been amongst demons, and power invites challenge. Still, a small part of him would feel reluctant to leave this place. Razor had heard of Hellmouths of course, places where the boundaries between the earth and the Hell dimensions were particularly thin – weak spots where demonic entities could bleed through on occasion. But never before had he understood how it felt to stand on one. It was like a distant humming in his ears, a slight reverberation that made his hairs stand on end – the faint rush of energy. It was as if Razor felt a pang of recognition, an echo sent from a place long-lost and forgotten. He shook the thought from his mind. Hell held no interest for him, and he had far more immediate, far more real concerns.
His attention was suddenly demanded by the sound of the metal entrance door slamming against the wall, as a figure stumbled into the Bronze. The lone Hellion cradled what looked like a fractured arm below a dislocated shoulder, before promptly half-collapsing onto the floor. The raucous ambience of the club dampened somewhat in response, as many of the Hellions looked on with various levels of curiosity.
Razor looked on with mild interest. He knew the wounded Hellion by no more than sight, so he was likely no more than a rookie who had accelerated too aggressively whilst turning a corner. If that was the case, then the agony he was quite clearly in would serve amply as his punishment.
"Boss!" the greenhorn cried out, before breaking into a fit of laboured coughs. Razor didn't move, merely lifting the cigar to his lips once more and taking another hit. He watched as Mag ceased his revelry and approached the rookie with approval. Mag always took his duty as second in command to discipline the lower ranks seriously – it was one of the many things Razor liked best about him. That, and that Mag's position in the riding order didn't seem to trouble him, he just wanted to enjoy the ride. It allowed Razor to sleep better at night knowing his closest lieutenant seemingly didn't seek out any ambition beyond his next meal – or victim.
Mag let out a guttural growl, before smacking the rookie's already bruised face with the back of his hand. That caught Razor's attention. The continued squealing remained inaudible however from this distance. Razor watched as Mag turned slowly around, raising his face towards his leader high above. There was an unprecedented uncertainty in his crimson eyes.
"This maggot says the Slayer did this to him!"
Impossible.
Razor didn't even bother to take the stairs. He leapt over the railing immediately; following the split-second of initial surprise. He landed with an indifferent effort on the floor below, storming over to the lying runt and lifting him clean off the ground by the front of his dirt-stained jacket.
"What did you say?!" Razor almost screamed into the rookie's face.
The Hellion's squeals became a whimper. "The… the Slayer… she…"
Razor pressed the scalding butt of his cigar into his underling's cheek, eliciting several more agonised screams from his throat.
"And what did she look like, this 'Slayer'?"
"Kinda short, skinny… blonde hair, green eyes… but she's a lot stronger than she looks.." the rookie wheezed.
That confirmed it. Razor could see deception in any of his men's eyes, and there was only fear of him in this one.
"And did she say anything else?"
"Sh-she wanted me to give you a message boss,"
"Deliver it then!" Razor roared, lifting the rookie even higher.
"She said… she said…" the idiot stuttered, unable to even form a short phrase.
"SAY IT!"
"She said if you want to cause trouble in her town, come face her yourself - at the old High School. If you're not… uhh, well…"
Razor released his jagged finger-blades, pressing them painfully into his victim's neck. "Yes?" he growled.
"A… Coward." He struggled to mouth.
The room went completely silent as the rookie's neck snapped, and Razor threw his limp body across the room, flying over the bar with a smash of breaking glass.
"MAG!" Razor called out with a blood-curdling screech. "Bring me a chain…."
