Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

--o--o--o--

Joey was an intimidating man. At well over six feet, his bald scalp sat atop a face with chiselled features set in a perpetual scowl and wearing a well tailored black suit, he was every bit the clichéd henchman. He even had the single gold hoop through one of his ears.

His hunched form, watching intently the screen in his hands as the character blew away another enemy, ruined the effect. Joey had long since become addicted to the super-retro games like the one he was playing.

He wasn't worried about getting caught goofing around when he was supposed to be working. Nobody used the stairwell tucked at the end of a hall in the off limits portion of the club. Everyone tended to use the elevator. Nothing ever happened here; who would be foolish to try anything in the heart of Pride territory after all?

Joey was convinced the only reason a guard was even posted back here was as punishment for one incompetence or another. Perhaps in the hopes the poor fool would die of boredom.

It never occurred to Joey to consider why he was given the task. He wasn't exactly a great thinker.

When the door behind him unexpectedly opened Joey thought nothing of it. He discreetly (to him anyway) tucked the game into the sleeve of his jacked and turned to greet the rare person to actually use the stairs. Imagine his surprise as he turned right into a large fist a split second before his world went dark.

"C'mon," Jayne said after he swept the hallway.

"Wait up a sec." Xander walked up to the downed guard and stripped him of his suit jacket with a sharp tug. He ignored the palm computer that cluttered to the floor, a red Master Chief blowing away Joey's green on the screen, as he slipped the jacket over his bare shoulders. The demon horn was tucked in his belt at the small of his back and the katana sheathed and strapped to his back, hidden as best it could be though some still stuck out. "Alright."

They continued on down the hall, the music and voices growing louder as they went. A heavy red curtain marked the entrance to the rear of the club. Jayne swept it away with one hand as he pulled Xander roughly along behind him.

"We got company," Xander indicated with a nod towards the two men coming at them.

Jayne grunted in acknowledgement. "More over there," he said as he inclined his head in their direction.

Xander saw Jayne start to bring his gun up and grabbed the larger man's arm. "Wait." It was to his credit he didn't shrink back at the look Jayne gave him. Instead Xander let the arm go and held out his hand. "I have a plan."

For a moment he thought the mercenary was going to ignore him and start a gunfight in the middle of the nightclub. Then, with an unenthusiastic grimace, he handed over the pistol. Xander decided he would never tell the man that back in Sunnydale people would run the other way or laugh if he said those four little words.

He waited until he saw the glint of the men pulling their own pistols out. Then with a quick action Xander fired a shot low into the bar, the report sounding over the music and the conversations. Quickly he hid the gun and yelled, "Oh my god! He has a gun!"

All hell broke loose after that.

Screams echoed over the music and people started pushing every which way. For the most part panic filled the room. Xander mentally patted himself on the back when he saw the nearest gunman tackled by couple of the larger patrons. He didn't let himself enjoy the moment long before he pulled Jayne into the middle of the mob rushing out the door.

--o--o--o--

"They got away," Trisha said as she entered the ritual chamber, now dressed in a pair of leather pants and green lace top. Even with one arm in a sling and a slight limp she managed to saunter through the room.

Anton didn't even spare her a glance. His form was prone on the stone slap; his arms folded behind his head as he gazed up at the moons. He looked the picture of calm. The only evidence anything had even happened were some singed hairs on his head and beard. "The moons look nice tonight."

"Yes, but it will be sunrise soon." Trisha came to stand beside him. "Did you not hear me? Alexander and his rescuer have escaped the building."

"It doesn't matter. This is a jungle of concrete and steel. And in the jungle I am king." He inclined his head and met her eyes with a piercing gaze. "They won't get far."

--o--o--o--

"That wasn't half bad kid," Jayne said as they made their way through the streets in the general direction of the docks. "So what's the rest of your plan?"

"Plan?" Xander asked confused, though he didn't look over at the larger man as they jogged down the street.

"Back there. You said you had a plan."

"Oh that," he shrugged. "That was the plan. I'm making this up as I go along."

Jayne shot him a look. Then he felt an impact on his back accompanied by a resounding splat. His body stiffened as he got a good whiff and he turned. Hanging on a pole at the side of the road was a small monkey waving its fist at him. "You didn't!"

"Jayne?" Xander questioned when he noticed the mercenary wasn't behind him anymore. What he saw when he turned around would be forever in his mind as one of the strangest sights he had ever seen. A monkey was waving its fist and hollering as Jayne approached, arms spread, saying "You want some of this?!"

Apparently the monkey did as it launched off its perch and latched onto Jayne's face. He fell back more from the surprise than the impact. It was almost comical the way Jayne thrashed on the ground trying the pry the small primate from his face.

With a sigh Xander started over to help him. A deep growl from the darkened alley stopped him in his tracks. Then a form flashed out of the darkness and it was only his years in Sunnydale and the fact that he was expecting it that managed to save his life.

As he ducked to the side Xander exclaimed, "Why do I get the eight hundred pound gorilla!?"

He rolled to his feet and unsheathed his blade. He swung wildly, more to keep the gorilla at bay than cause damage. It was smart enough to be wary of the sword. If the presence of the beast itself didn't tell him anything the intelligence behind those eyes would enlighten him on what he was dealing with.

Deciding it would be a good idea to do something before the gorilla realized it could probably just force its way through his guard, Xander discreetly reached under his jacket with his free hand. In a smooth motion he pull the demon horn free and let it fly.

The gorilla roared as the horn lodged itself in its upper thigh. The instant the gorilla's gaze flicked down to the wound Xander struck out, removing the beast's head from its shoulders.

After retrieving the horn Xander slumped against a nearby wall catching his breath. Running from the bad guys and swinging a sword around was a lot more tiring than Hollywood or Buffy made it out to be.

"Hhhnnnnngg!" Jayne growled, drawing Xander's attention as he finally pulled the monkey from his face. He threw it down on the ground and started raining punches on the small primate. "How do you like this?! Huh! You jung chi duh go-se dway!"

"Uh Jayne?" Xander spoke after a moment. "I think it's dead."

Jayne stopped and looked up, his face and neck covered in small scratches. "What's with all the damn animals!?"

"It's a long story," he said as he pulled the big man up and started running.

--o--o--o--

"They've made it out of Pride controlled territory."

Walker chuckled. "Alexander you continue to surprise me."

"Anton?" Trisha questioned. "You almost sound like you like the boy."

"I do," he told her. "It won't stop me from gutting him and feeding him to our more animalistic brethren, but I do like him. He livens things up don't you think? If nothing else I now know my security needs to be… reorganized."

They were quiet for a while, each thinking about what 'reorganizing' would entail and how much staff would need to be replaced when it was over. It was Trisha who spoke next. "We haven't identified his rescuer yet. He registered under the name Simon Reynolds, but it appears to be an alias. Reports indicate they are moving towards the docks. Perhaps our mystery guest has a ship?"

"Perhaps," Anton agreed. "But that is not where they are going yet."

"It's not?"

Walker shook his head. "Alexander keeps a small apartment not far from the dock yard. He will likely go there first. As involved with the supernatural as he appears Alexander will likely have materials or information he will not be willing to leave behind."

He passed the empty stone bowl between his hands absently. After a long moment he spoke again. "If they are out of our territory already make sure none of the men shift. Some attention I don't need."

--o--o--o--

Xander opened the door to what had, more or less, been his home since arriving in this time. It was one room, almost too small for even one person, and practically falling apart, but at least it was a roof over his head.

Almost before they were through the door Xander pointed Jayne over to the corner. "Weapons in the closet. False back. Switch is on the third board down, right hand side." That said he went over to the bed and sat heavily. He grabbed a small piece of wood that had once been part of the ceiling and wrapped it in cloth. Xander bit down on it and took hold of his dislocated thumb. After several deep breaths Xander twisted and popped the joint back in place.

Jayne ignored Xander's muffled cry of pain and the heavy breathing as he slumped back onto the mattress. He heard weapons and made a beeline for the closet. After prying the false back off he took in the array of weaponry before him and gave a snort. "Where's the guns?"

"Don't have any," Xander said from where he had shakily slid to the floor and began pulling things from under the bed, loading them into a duffle. "Don't be picky. There are more bad guys than you have bullets."

Jayne grumbled as he turned back. Then a glint entered his eyes as he saw the slick looking battleaxe in the corner. He reached eagerly to grab it.

"Ah, ah!" Xander called back without looking up. "The axe is mine."

Jayne pouted as he went and looked at the swords and daggers.

He didn't own much so it didn't take long for Xander to through his few clothes and books into the duffle. Moving over to the closet he reached around Jayne to grab a few weapons and threw them into the duffle as well. Xander swung the axe over one shoulder, the duffle strap over another, and strode to the door. "Alright, let's go."

As Xander disappeared into the hall Jayne was still deciding what to take. Finally he shoved an expensive looking dagger in his boot, grabbed a short sword and rushed after Xander.

He caught up with him in the stairwell but they didn't even get a flight before the boy abruptly stopped. Peering down over the railing Jayne could see why. A rather large group of armed men were making their way up.

Jayne pulled Xander roughly off his feet and up a couple stairs as one of the men glanced up and fired where he had just been.

"Guess we're not going down," Xander commented as they took the stairs up two at a time.

Jayne just grunted and pushed him to go faster. After several more flights they burst through a door onto the roof. In the distance they could see the sky beginning to red as night gave way to day.

"Now what?" Jayne asked as he looked around the roof and realized there was absolutely no cover available.

"Hadn't really thought that far ahead," Xander told him as he looked between the edge of this roof and the next. A noise from inside told them they didn't have much time so Xander grabbed Jayne by the arm and pulled him into action. "C'mon."

Jayne's eyes widened when he realized why Xander had pulled him into a run. He swore loudly as his feet left the ground. Seconds later his toes just touched down on the lip of the next roof and he tumbled over the gravel floor.

Beside him Xander gave a startled laugh. "I be damned! We actually made it!"

Jayne glared at him as he pulled a cylindrical object out of his pocket. "A little warnin' next time!"

"Is that what I think it is?" Xander asked as Jayne twisted the cap and an indicator light blinked on.

Jayne just grinned evilly as he threw the object back over to the other roof and hit the deck.

Several of the gunmen had just made it through the door when something bounced between one of their legs. He looked down and his eyes went wide. "Oh-"

The gunman never got to finish as an explosion rocked the rooftop.

--o--o--o--

Mal leaned against Serenity's open cargo doors, steaming mug in hand, watching the reds and oranges peek through the buildings of New Dunsmuir. As much as he loved sailing through the black, it was nice to enjoy the occasional peaceful morning dirtside.

Just as he brought the mug to his lips Mal heard it. It was soft and distant, but he had heard enough explosions in his life to recognize the sound. The smoke rising in the distance helped too.

For a brief moment he thought about ignoring it. Then he sighed and dumped his coffee on the ground.

"Zoë!" Mal called as he walked back inside. "Did Jayne take any grenades with him when he left?"

--o--o--o--

"Crap! Crap! Crap!" Xander exclaimed, a bullet just missing him as they jumped to their fourth roof.

The remaining gunmen were apparently undeterred by a half dozen of their fellows being blown apart. In fact they seemed more concerned that the explosion had caught the building on fire.

As they rushed for the roof that Xander and Jayne were on Xander's prediction came true; there were more of them than Jayne had bullets. Or grenades.

As the pair came to the edge of their newest building they stopped dead. "We're not jumping this one," Xander commented as he needlessly pointed to the street-wide gap between this building and the next.

Jayne tried to shoulder the door inside only to find out the hard way it was made of metal and rather sturdy. Not discouraged Xander took his battleaxe in both hands and swung hard. He nearly cried out as the vibrations went through the axe and up his arms, jostling his inflamed thumb. Other then a decent dent and a scratch the door looked fine. "Well that's just not fair."

They took cover behind the doorway as they heard the eight thumps of their pursuers landing on the roof. They apparently knew the area well enough to know they had their prey cornered when the lead man stepped out of the pack.

"It's over kid," he said. "Just give up. Walker would still prefer you alive. Think on the bright side. You may get another chance to escape later."

The man laughed. "Okay, so that's not likely. It's not like there is anywhere for you to go now kid."

Quietly Xander took the duffle from his shoulder and placed it on the ground. Hefting the battleaxe he took a steadying breath and nodded to Jayne. The mercenary brought his short sword to the ready and nodded back.

Just as they started to move the wind began to whip along the roof, but the roar of an engine could be made out over the sound. Serenity rose into view; the cargo bay doors opened; Mal and Zoe standing armed and ready.

"I don't know what your trouble is boys," Mal called out to the gunmen. "But I'd rather like to get these to back in one piece. Let's just do this nice and calm like and nobody has to get dead."

The gunmen looked at each other, shrugged and started firing.

"Why do they always choose the fighting," Mal commented to Zoë as they took cover around the corner. "Is it my delivery?"

Zoë fired a shot around the corner before responding. "The hill folk on Jiangyin gave River and Simon up without a fight."

"True enough," he acknowledged before he half slid around the corner and shouted at the two men in the doorway. "You two coming or what?"

They didn't need to be told twice and took off running, trusting Mal and Zoe to give them enough cover to make it. Jayne reached the edge first, jumping in and landing in a smooth roll. Xander tossed his duffle ahead of him and leapt. His foot slipped on the ramp and Xander's heart pounded as he began to fall backwards. Then a hand clamped down on his arm and pulled him steady.

"I got ya," Mal told him and was about to pull the boy the rest of the way in when it happened. He heard the shot, tasted the copper of blood on his face and felt the dead weight of a body going limp in his arms.