Disclaimer:  I still don't own Buffy, her universe, or any of the characters or places associated with it; as much as I wish I did.  They are still the creation and property of Joss Whedon.

Chapter 2:

Thirteen years later.

Somehow, when her project manager had told (or more accurately, ordered) her to take a few days off, to go out and do something fun for a few days, Dee doubted that this was what he'd had in mind.

Actually, her project manager was a nice guy, but a bit of a stick in the mud.  For some reason, free-climbing Castleton Tower in Utah just didn't strike him as a fun thing to do.

To be fair, it was a long way down.  Over three hundred feet at the top.  She'd climbed it on a couple of occasions before, and it was by far her favorite route to climb.

These days, she didn't get out very often.  Her work had a way of keeping her busy.  She'd been lucky enough to be hired as a programmer by one of the smaller IT firms in San Diego straight after her graduation from UCLA.  The pay was good, and took a large bite out of the huge debt load she'd incurred during her four years of college.

She returned her attention to the sheer rock face in front of her.  She was only supposed to take a couple of days off.  She had the feeling that her manager would be somewhat distressed if she came back dead.

It was hot.  No clouds hung in the sky to hold the sun at bay, and on a sheer wall, it was like standing on the side of an oven.  Oh well, Dee thought to herself, at least if I fall, I'll die with a great tan.  She balanced lightly on the inside edge of her right foot, and swung her left up into a small pocket.  Then, in a swift, smooth motion, she pulled herself a couple of feet higher on the wall.

Nobody else was climbing today.  It was unusual for the Tower to be deserted, as it was a fairly popular spot for those brave, stupid or crazy enough to try it.  The fact that it was deserted didn't bother her.  Actually, she kinda liked the solitude.  It allowed her to reflect on her own thoughts, concentrate on herself.  And that way, if she screwed up, she knew that it was nobody's fault but her own.

She dipped her hands into the chalk bag hanging on her waist.  Another couple of hours and she'd be standing at the top.  She was about a hundred feet from the summit, and directly above her, she could see a pair of buzzards (or, as she liked to call them, skeptics) circling.

"Sorry guys," she muttered to them, "No lunch for you today, if I have anything to say about it."

She felt, rather than heard or saw the buzzard swooping down to strike  As if possessed, she found herself letting go of the rock face in front of her, to drop and desperately grab for a handhold about five feet below her.  She heard a sickening crunch as it slammed into the space her ribcage had just vacated, causing the rock under it to crumble, and sending a shower of large stones down upon her.

"Oh, come on, guys, I was just kid-…"  The quip died on her lips as she finally got a good look at her attacker.

It was, to be certain, no buzzard.

But that was about as much as she knew.  She knew what it wasn't: it wasn't anything she'd ever seen before.  What she didn't know was what it was.

The thing had the general body shape of a man.  Arms, legs, eyes, ears… all were identifiable, if somewhat weird-looking.  Its skin was scarred and wrinkled, and each of its four limbs terminated in a four-fingered claw.  From behind its shoulders stretched two long, leathery, bat-like wings.

And it looked really, really pissed off.

As she watched the thing circle around for a second pass, Dee desperately scanned the rock face she was suddenly precariously perched on, searching for some way to escape whatever had decided to come after her.  Whatever it was, it was big, and strong, and it didn't like her.  Not only that, but it had the advantage here.  Dee didn't allow herself to dwell upon what she'd done to get it so pissed off.  Whatever it was, she promised herself that she'd apologize profusely if she lived through this.

For now, she had to figure out a way of living through this.  She was a good two hundred feet off the ground, which ruled out jumping.  If it could fly, she couldn't really fight the thing on its own turf.  Not to mention that she didn't have any weapons of any kind on her.  She was now regretting not having taken that Tae Kwon Do course they were offering at the Y.

How fast could she climb down?  It had taken her about four hours to get up this far, how fast could she descend if she didn't bother being careful about it?  It would take an hour, at the absolute least.  And even then, it was unlikely at best that she would make it in one piece.

The only upside to all this that she could think of was that this thing had wasted the element of surprise.  More by dumb luck than anything else, she'd somehow known that he was coming.  Now she was ready.

Of course, being ready means Jack squat when you don't have anything you can actually do about it.

The thing clawed, literally, for altitude, then all but folded its wings and dove straight down at her, trying to drive her off the wall by the sheer force of impact.

Dee waited until what she perceived to be the last possible moment, then shifted her weight to her right and pulled her whole body as much to one side as she possibly could.  She swore she could feel the whole wall shake with the impact, but she stayed, clinging desperately onto some of the tiny protrusions on the otherwise sheer wall.  Without thinking of it, she drew her left knee up to her chest, and kicked out, catching the thing in its side, just below whatever it had that passed for a ribcage.

How the hell did I do that?

The force of the blow was sufficient to propel the thing a good ten or twelve feet before it managed to slow itself down enough to hover.

How the hell did I do that?

The thing, whatever it was, must have weighed twice as much as she did.  How could she generate that much force?  It scared her how effortless it was.  On some level, she knew how to fight this thing, and had the strength to do it.

The thing, for its part, let out an angry screech and came in for another attack.  It brought its claws to bear and started lashing brutally at her arms and body.  It had, apparently, given up on trying to make it look like an accident, if that was ever its intention.  It just wanted her dead.  It didn't seem to care how she got that way.

Dee ducked a pair of blows which landed where her head had been, and had sufficient force to drive the thing's claws deep into the rock, crumbling it effortlessly, and again showering the tiny brunette with fragments of rock.

Dee put her right hand behind her back, catching a small, flat, sharp rock which fit comfortably into the palm of her hand.  She then hung by her left and kicked out to the center of the thing's chest with both feet.

"Head's up."

She hurled the rock as hard as she could, catching the thing in the center of its forehead.

For the briefest of instants, it appeared to hang in space, waiting for gravity to reclaim it.  Almost lazily, it looked over at her, showing a small, rock-sized hole in his forehead.  Then its wings folded, and it plummeted earthwards.

It took just over an hour for Dee to climb down.  She hunted for a body, but never found one.

Okay, she thought to herself, what the hell's going on here?