Author's Note: Thank you for continuing to read and review The Biological Imperative: Elenhiril, Lexicat, Sarah, Anymous, CyberAngelOne, Jeff, ForgottenByLove, SaiyaSith, Alexander the God, Polly, Randi, Kristy Marie, Bolo, Feynor, Rashaka, Promise, Deb, Sarah the Bloody, dragonfly, Alexia Goddess, watchergirl, dan, mandy, lilchica~*, Guardian Loki, Miriya, SpikesBuffy, Anne-Maire, SunnyD, and Vanna Maxwell. Special thanks to all of you who sent me get well wishes, remedies, etc. Your concern is much appreciated. I tried to get this out sooner but the fight scene between Buffy and Charlemange was giving me problems. The quarterstaff fight choreography came straight from the film Brotherhood of the Wolf, a pretty good movie, but the quips are all mine. Thank you for pointing that out to me Joshua… "Let's dance you and I," is from A Knight's Tale. I thought it was from BtVS…*blush*… And as to the whole Trance/sister thing…all will be revealed in due time.
Chapter 15The Observation Deck was packed, the best and brightest of the Orca and Sabra-Jaguar Prides gathered to battle and find mates.
The Orcas could be identified by the great, hulking figures of their men and the flowing white garments of their women. In contrast, the Sabra-Jaguar males were slightly smaller, more compact, while the females were garbed in either stylish colored dresses or pants and tunic.
In the center of the room, a large circle had been cleared for the fights. At present, an Orca and Sabra-Jaguar dueled in its center, fighting with fists and forearm spikes. The Prides roamed around, watching the duelists and acquainting themselves with each other.
"They're pretty good," Buffy observed to Charlemange as they made their way through the crowd.
"Um, yes, quite," he said awkwardly, his cool demeanor faltering for a moment before the effervescent beauty.
He cleared his throat, "The trials consist of hand-to-hand combat, quarterstaffs, blades, and the like. They are either one-to-one or free-for-alls, a group competing until one arises the victor."
"Cool, I like the sound of the free-for-all one," she commented, walking ahead to better study the fighters.
"What…no" the Alpha said, speaking to thin air. "Damn the girl," he cursed under his breath, starting after her retreating form.
Eight Neitzschean warriors surrounded her, four Orca and four Sabra-Jaguar, each bearing a quarterstaff. Buffy had challenged the Alphas, saying that she could beat ten of their best warriors. Humoring her, they conceded to eight of their younger warriors. They had seen her train, and thought that she would give their boys a good work out…before they defeated her. Even though they knew she was more than she appeared, they still thought that they were better.
Buffy knew what the Alphas were up to, but she didn't mind. It was their funeral. To make it fair, she declined the use of a staff.
"You sure your up to this," Charlemange called out from the side lines.
"Why…scared that I'll hurt them," she responded, removing her sword-belt and handing it to Trance.
He snorted; Buffy was coming to discover that that sound was the standard Neitzschean response to just about everything.
She turned to the men, flashing them a feral smile. "Come and get me boys."
The men shared condescending smiles, the first warrior nodding his head to the others. He rushed Buffy, clutching the staff in his hands. She remained still until he was almost upon her, giving a front snap kick to his stomach. He hunched forward. Another kick released the staff into the air, while a second knocked him onto his back. Buffy grabbed for the staff, twirling it around her. She braced it behind her back and in the cradle of her right arm until it was horizontal to her body. The Slayer pointed one end at the men, warning them way. They withdrew and surrounded her, now wary.
"Please tell me that wasn't the best you had. Who knew that you guys were all bark and no bite?"
She cockily walked forward, stepping around the fallen warrior, a smile spreading across her features as she stopped in the middle of the ring. Removing the staff from the cradle of her arm, she gave it a twirl before standing it upright before her, deceptively calm.
An Orca attacked her from the left, his staff held high to strike her head. She blocked and quickly kicked him away. A third came at her back; she turned, using the momentum of her body and staff to knock him down. She did the same to a Sabra-Jaguar, inherently sensing his charge and continuing to twist her body to avoid his blow. She cracked the staff across his back, leaving him groaning at her feet.
A dark haired fighter attempted to hit her, she blocked high, ramming the flat of her boot into his chest. His body flew through the air, landing just outside the circle.
"Oops, sorry, guess that was a little too strong," she exclaimed impishly, sparing the man a glance.
Two warriors tried to take advantage of her slight preoccupation, charging her from either side. Buffy blocked the first, quickly turning to meet the second, staffs crashing together with a resounding bang. She turned back to the first, jabbing him in the stomach with her staff and spun around to the second, clouting him harshly across the face, knocking them both out.
"That ain't gonna be pretty come tomorrow," she gibed, referring to the livid bruise even now discoloring the man's cheek.
Her first two attackers managed to recover in the minutes it took her to put down their cohorts. They rushed her now, raising their staffs to strike out at her simultaneously. Buffy effortlessly blocked their combined attacks, shoving them away, and tilted her staff until it was perpendicular to the floor. Defying gravity, she jumped up, using the staff as her support, and executed a side split in mid-air, knocking both men down. She straightened, pointing her staff at the regrouping men. She swiftly twirled it around until it was again braced against her body, coolly eyeing the injured before her.
She tsked them, a wide grin making her green eyes sparkle, "Now, now boys, mustn't be pissy."
The crowd was silent, then…Clap, clap, clap. The sound echoed through the large room and halted the fighters.
Buffy turned to see Charlemange making his way to her from the sidelines, clapping all the way. "Bravo, my love, bravo."
Still primed from her fight, she defiantly tossed her head. "You wanna be next," she challenged.
Charlemange feigned innocence, "No, I wouldn't dream of it." More seriously, "I think you proved your point, love."
She frowned at his endearment; that was the second time he had called her his 'love.' The way his voice rumbled out the name sent shivers through her body, it reminded her of Spike and…she got angry.
"What's the matter Charlemange Bolivar, scared," she taunted.
"No, just wiser than you," he bit out through clenched teeth.
"Oh yeah," she said, coming up to him, so close they bumped toes.
"Yeah," he said.
The atmosphere suddenly charged, the two strong personalities clashing together in a battle of wills. Their bodies tensed with anger and…something else.
"Buffy, that was wonderful," interrupted Trance, coming hurrying between the two opponents, Dylan and Guderian right behind her.
"Yes, an excellent display," Guderian said consideringly.
Dylan clapped them on their backs, "Everything all right?"
The two ignored them, their eyes boring into each other.
A thought came into Buffy's head, what Spike had told her about dancing and fighting during one of their early confrontations, when he still wanted to kill her.
She grinned, a savage bearing of her teeth. "Let's dance, you and I."
He quirked his scarred brow in bemusement.
So like him, Buffy thought. "Do you want to fight," she clarified precisely, as if talking to a small child.
At the last of his patience he reluctantly relented. "Fine…but after the other fights," he snarled.
"Fine then," she retorted childishly, reverting to her old
Spike/Buffy repertoire with the Sabra-Jaguar Alpha.
"Fine."
The two stormed off to opposite sides of the room, leaving the others to wonder what the hell just happened.
On one side of the Observation Deck…
"God, stare much," Buffy breathed, her eyes shying away from the intent gazes of men and women alike.
"I think they're…awed by you," said Trance, overhearing Buffy.
"Yeah, it's not everyday a little thing like you kicks eight Neitzschean warrior asses at once," quipped Harper, coming up to Trance and Buffy's side. "Hey my little chicas how goes it?"
Buffy laughed, "Apparently not as good as you. What have you been up to?"
"I've just met up with a stunning long drink of the red headed variety. Could be definite possibilities there if mama bear would just leave her side for one minute," he said, craning his neck around to catch a glimpse of the female in question.
"Oh Harper," Trance said exasperatedly, "Just because a girl smiles at you once does not signify attraction."
The mechanic grinned unrepentantly, "Says you."
"Says me," she replied laughingly. "Besides, make one move toward her and you'll find yourself at the end of several dozen Neitzschean phasers."
Dylan and Tyr walked up to the trio, Beka and Rommie were helping the Alphas oversee the games.
"I see everyone's enjoying themselves," Dylan said, he had especially enjoyed seeing the Neitzscheans' reactions to her. "Buffy, an outstanding performance, you're very…resourceful. Do you play chess by any chance?"
"Uh, no. I can never remember which way the horsey or little soldier guys are supposed to go," she told him carefully.
"That's too bad, I bet you would make an excellent opponent."
Tyr threw his arm around Buffy's shoulders, effectively interrupting the conversation, much to the amusement of Trance and Harper.
"Would you like to spar with me sometime, I'm sure there is much we can teach each other," the Kodiak said suggestively.
"Ummm," Buffy responded, uncomfortable, trying to shake off his grip.
"I thought you were gunning for one of Charlemange's sisters, or do you think Buffy would make a good second wife," Harper asked, wagging his eyebrows up and down.
"What," she exclaimed.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Observation Deck…
A fuming Charlemange covertly observed the friendly group conversing far before him, focusing on the almost embracing figures of Tyr and the Slayer.
"Something bothering you my son," asked Sophia, following Charlemange's gaze. "Ah, the girl, I see that the Kodiak holds her in thrall."
The two watched as Buffy threw off the Neitzschean's arm and started to rebuke him, her words softly spoken, but rather fierce in their assessment. She was obviously very angry with the man.
"Or not," she concluded with a smile. "There is hope for you yet."
Relieved, but unwillingly to confess it, "I don't think so. She's challenged me to a fight."
"Yes, I know. Not exactly the way I would have gone about winning her over, but you've always been different," she teased lightly. "It will give her the chance to see my boy in action, I only hope that she does not hurt you too badly."
He gave his mother a wide grin, "And why do you think that I would not be the one to would defeat her, have you no faith in my capabilities?"
"I have every faith in you, but…she is obviously a very strong fighter."
"Yes mother," he replied indulgently. He looked to her, finally noticing that his Sophia's arms were empty, "By the by, where is my son?"
"I left him with Elsa for a moment, don't worry so. Come let us see how are people fare."
He ruefully shook his head extending his arm and leading them to the circle.
Much later…
"Your warriors have done well for themselves, but then again so have mine," Guderian said, observing the last battle between his brother Bariden and a Sabra-Jaguar male.
"Yes, a most satisfactory Gathering if I do say so myself, there may be quite a few pairings when at last we part," Charlemange responded.
The fight ended, with Bariden the victor, the Orcas burst into cheers.
Charlemange sighed and started to remove his jacket.
"Are you really going to fight the girl," Guderian asked over the clamor.
"I said I would. Can't let the lady down now can I."
Charlemange proceeded to take of his clothes until he was bare from the waist up. He bent down to take off his boots, when he looked to the circle; he saw that Buffy was there, sans boots too.
Sophia came over, Traed secure in her arms.
"Good luck Charlemange," she gave a cheeky grin, "you'll need it."
"Off with you now," he smiled back, leaning over to give his son a kiss.
"That's a fine boy you've got there," observed Guderian, reaching a large finger out to be grabbed by the boy. "Perhaps in a few years, he would be worthy for one of my daughters."
"Perhaps."
The throng around the make shift arena had thickened over the last few minutes, but the fighters were unperturbed by their scrutiny. As soon as the two entered the circle, it was as if no one existed except the two of them.
"You ready for me love," Charlemange rumbled as he took a fighter's stance before her.
The Slayer smiled, assuming a similar stance. "More than ready."
They burst into action; Charlemange swinging his right arm into punch followed by a left jab, his movements a blur of speed. Buffy blocked him just as fast and pushed him away, twisting her body into a quick roundhouse kick. Charlemange caught her descending leg and shoved her back; Buffy used that momentum to turn her fall into a back handspring. She turned, just in time to dodge a crescent kick. They withdrew slightly, grinning at each other.
"You're fast…for a Neitzschean."
"You're good…for a woman," he teased back lightly.
She rushed him, moving into a flurry of quick rabbit punches to his torso. He blocked every one, finally catching her arms in his hands. She smiled, then surprised him with a head butt, only strong enough to bruise. He backed away again. It was like a game of cat and mouse, only you couldn't tell which was which.
They were…playing with each other.
Charlemange swung at her, she spun around his body to avoid the blow, but he quickly raised his elbow, staggering her slightly. First contact.
He swiftly grabbed at her, holding her in a headlock.
"Smooth move," she commented from his hold, raising her hands up to his forearm.
"What's say we dispense with all the foreplay and just get to the down and dirty," he breathed by her ear.
"Fine with me."
She snap kicked her leg straight up, stunning him with the blow and her flexibility.
"Oh, that'll be useful later," he said with a grin.
"You wish."
She launched into a flying kick and the battle was on.
Their fight became a dance, a choreographed symphony of kicks and punches perfectly contrasted to blocks and dodges, a blow only occasionally making contact until…
Charlemange landed a powerful uppercut, knocking the Slayer down. Buffy braced herself with one hand, scissoring her legs between the Alphas' and causing him to slam onto his back. She raised one leg and thumped it down onto his chest; he expelled his breath with a great and audible whoosh.
Buffy flipped back onto her feet, moving to stand over Charlemange's prone form. She looked down and fell to her knees, straddling his body.
"Had enough," she panted lightly.
"Maybe," he wheezed back. "Just…give me a minute."
She smiled, "You're kinda cute when you're all humble and defeated."
Charlemange's clear blue eyes flared for a moment before they were shuttered behind his arrogant facade.
He laughed up at her, ignoring the rather large audience observing their intimate by-play. "Oh really love," he breathed, tensing his body and brining his hands up to her legs. The message was clear, he could go for another dance…if she was up to it.
Tossing her head back with a laugh, she leaned down until only inches separated their faces and tapped his chin with one slender finger. "Here's a tip love, never mess with a Slayer."