Disclaimer: Buffy and the universe she inhabits belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Dee is mine. At least the Dee that wasn't shown during the ten seconds of screen time she got in Chosen.
Chapter 16:
"So tell me now," Anne taunted, "what made you think you could win this? What is it you think you have that I don't?"
Then, ruthlessly, she drove her fist at Dee's head.
Dee saw the vicious blow descending inexorably towards her head with a force sufficient to flatten her skull against the pavement in painfully slow motion. Knowing in her mind that if it landed, it would all be over. Bye-bye, Slayer. Next, please.
Choose life, or choose death.
Choose.
The fist descended smoothly, unhesitatingly at her. She could see the faint orange glow of her car, burning off to her right. Distantly, she heard a familiar voice scream "Dee!"
Whaddaya know? Anders made it.
Choose.
In a fraction of a second, it would be over, or she would be in the fight of her life.
Choose.
The sound of Anne's fist striking the palm of Dee's left hand was deafening, her muscles screamed as she brought its relentless descent to a halt, inches from the bridge of her nose.
Dee felt a wave of ecstasy rush over her body. It was like being bathed in warmth, like being suspended on a beam of light which swept over her, knitting her broken bones, repairing her abused limbs, and stopping the bleeding.
For a moment, Anne stared at her, uncertain of what, exactly had just happened.
Almost casually, Dee pulled Anne's fist aside, away from her face. She looked, almost quizzically into Anne's eyes.
What is it you think you have that I don't?
"How about a pulse, for starters?"
Her right fist slammed into the vampire's left cheekbone, driving the ex-slayer back.
Anne brought her hand up to her cheek, rather stunned that what should have been a challenging, but not difficult, kill had decided to fight back.
Dee had changed. As she sprang to her feet, she stood taller, more confidently. Her stance was perfect and her hands did not so much as shake as she brought them up into a guard position. Her motions were smooth and effortless, showing none of the pain which had been all too evident only moments ago.
"Funny the things we learn when we get older." Dee said, as she waited for the redhead to recover and prepare for the inevitable conflict, "when we're young, we don't realize that there's a point when we're supposed to give up."
Anne launched a brutal series of kicking attacks. Dee sidestepped them effortlessly, bringing her own left foot up in a snap-kick which caught the vampire under her jaw, making her head snap backwards brutally, and would have broken the neck of any living human. She then shifted her weight onto her left foot, bringing her right up in a side kick to Anne's abdomen, driving the vampire backwards.
"You may have a slayer's strength," Dee blocked a snap kick which was aimed at her head, but did not make any attack for her part, "you definitely have a slayer's training," Anne's left fist whistled past Dee's right ear as she snapped her head smoothly to the left, out of the way. Again, Dee made no response to the attack.
Anne threw another side kick, aimed to throw the slayer off balance, give her back the upper hand in this fight.
"But you're not the slayer. Maybe you never were." Dee twisted smoothly away from Anne's kick, and easily blocked the punch she threw with her only remaining good hand.
"I am." Dee drove a brutal palm strike under Anne's chin, again snapping her head backwards, lifting the vampire off her feet, and depositing her about ten feet away on the hard asphalt. Dee paused for a moment, allowing the truth of her own words to sink in.
"Shut up!" Anne screamed at her, as she found her feet again.
Dee shook her head, "Being a slayer isn't about strength or skill or weapons. It's not about what we can do, or how many vampires we can kill. It's not even about whether we make a difference."
She deflected another punch, then spun around, weaving the fingers of her hands and driving them into the vampire's stomach. Anne bent over, reflexively, and received the two hands brutally in the bridge of her nose.
"It's about spirit."
Anne looked at the slayer, knowing in that instant that she was beaten.
"It's about fighting, no matter the odds. It's about not giving up. It's about accepting your past, and living for the future." Dee paused, "I don't know what made you give up on that, but in that instant, you went against everything a slayer is supposed to stand for."
"Stop preaching. It's lost on me." Anne muttered at her. The defiance behind her eyes was unmistakable.
"Maybe I'm not saying this for your benefit." Dee's voice was steady, calm. "Maybe it's something I needed to realize for myself."
Dee had never fought like this in any of her training sessions, Anders realized, with no small degree of shock. She was speaking to Anne, but she was speaking too quietly for him to hear what she was saying.
She fought with a smoothness and a confidence which he'd never seen in her before. Her blocks were perfectly timed, and well placed. Her strikes were accurate and deadly. In an instant, something had changed with Dee. Anders realized, though he didn't know exactly how he realized it, exactly what it was.
Dee had become a slayer.
Thirteen years ago, Dee had been given the skill, the strength and the speed of a slayer, but she'd never been a slayer until that instant.
He realized, also, that whatever had changed in her was something Anne had never had.
Anne had a slayer's strength, and a slayer's training, and five years of experience that Dee didn't have.
And Anne was getting her ass kicked.
"It's over, Anne," Dee whispered, her words mimicking her father's, as she effortlessly redirected a series of punches and kicks, "You know you can't win this."
"Shut up!"
"You've lost."
"Shut UP!" Anne launched another series of attacks at the untouchable slayer. She had given up trying to be elegant or skillful. Throw as many different blows as possible, and something was bound to hit her eventually.
Dee didn't even bother blocking anymore. She simply sidestepped each attack. She responded with a single punch across Anne's jaw. She put a little more muscle behind this one, hoping that would get the message across.
Anne looked at her for a moment, in stunned shock. She knew that she was beaten. She couldn't touch Dee. It was over.
She spun around, and raced for the railing of the bridge. Then, in a smooth motion, she dove over it.
Dee didn't move, allowing the vampire to escape. She remained on guard until she heard the distant splash as the vampire's cold body struck the water.
Her car was still burning, no more than ten feet away from her. She couldn't feel its warmth. She felt numb.
Finally, she stepped out of her stance, bringing her feet together, and quietly bowed at the section of railing over which the vampire had disappeared.
"Thanks, Daddy." She whispered, knowing that no living person was close enough to hear her.
Then, the physical and emotional stresses caught up with her, and she collapsed to the ground, her face slamming ungracefully into the warm road.
"Dee." He heard Anders voice as she felt him roll her onto her back, cradling her limp body in his arms.
"Tell Oz," she whispered, barely able to form sound at all, "that he owes me a new car."
Then hard darkness pressed in, blocking out any response Anders might have had.
