Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the original characters, Joss and Mutant Enemy are the lucky ones.
Summary: Angel and his group took out the Thorn, but they opened up a whole new can of worms.
Pairings: Spuffy, Fresley, D/OC. Others might present themselves.
Warning: There will be cursing, violence and a smidgen of sex in this story.
Chapter Eight: She gets by with a little help from her friends
Los Angeles - Sunset Strip - Seven weeks ago
"Excuse me, could you direct me to the Krispy Kreme?"
The vampire snarled, having been sneaked up on by a young redheaded girl while he was chasing a petite raven haired slayer. In her hand, a wooden stake rested on her palm, pointed at his chest.
"You're no Slayer!"
Willow blinked, causing the stake to fly into his heart.
"Nope sorry, but I am a lesbian slash witch if that helps."
He disintegrated, and the goddess held out her hand, the stake flying into it. The slayer being chased stepped out of the alley and waved to her.
"Thanks Miss Rosenberg!"
Willow blushed twisting her hips while digging her foot into the ground.
"No biggie, all stakes are is really big pencils."
The girl looked at her with a mix of admiration and awestruck confusion. Willow shook her head and lifted into the air, ready to help Buffy and Faith.
"Grab your team and move towards Grauman's theater, all other squads are converging on that area."
The girl straightened, bringing her hand to her temple and saluting.
"Yes Ma'am!"
Without bothering to reply, Willow soared off towards the landmark theater, mentally she called out to the military commander.
'Riley, how are the girls?'
It took a moment, but he replied.
'Good, all but two squads are secure. Those that are have started moving towards Graumans'
Despite herself, Willow frowned, in the periphery of her senses, it seemed as if a tidal wave was washing over the area.
'Okay, double time it Riley, things are about to get even worse.'
'I don't see how things could get a..'
Willow cut in, her voice completely serious.
'So help me if you finish that sentence I'll turn you into a newt.'
After a few seconds his nervous voice replied.
'Yes ma'am'
"Why does everyone keep calling me ma'am?"
With no one around she got no response; she hovered in mid flight, concentrating on Andrew.
'Andrew, tell the coven that we need their assistance.'
A loud shrieking noise filled Willows mind, almost causing her to drop from the sky.
'Stop yelling!'
Andrew's squeaky voice stopped.
'Sorry O she of the magics, still not use to the whole mind-meld thing, what should I tell them is up?'
Willow smiled as she resumed her course.
'Tell them we need to shed some light.'
Los Angeles - Several blocks from Graumans theater
Slayers really are dramatic, needing to make everything some big show. Dawn was jogging straight down the middle of the road towards her sister and the legion of doom.
Her "bodyguards" were flanking her on both sides, bending and weaving through crashed cars and rubble, which in the long run, was actually slowing her rate of travel. Maybe it was the one to three year expiration date that came with their calling, what with all the big dramatic shows and gestures.
"Guys could we hurry this up and get to the damn fight!"
Both slayers stopped, turning to glare daggers at her. Just as she was about to ask why they were being so bitchy, a growl came from the alley to her left. A plethora of demons came rushing out, ready to tear her to pieces. Both slayers jumped in front of her, taking on the brunt of the wave.
As her first enemy swung, Dawn's only semi-coherent thought was
'Oh crap, Buffy's gonna kill me if I die.'
Los Angeles - Graumans Chinese theater
"Isn't this usually the part where they either retreat or run out of fighters?"
Buffy joked to Faith, trying to occupy herself with the now, as opposed to the future. She wasn't scared; not of death anyways, been there, done that. Her fear was that with so many demons running around, Spike would surely be out here getting in a little rough and tumble. The only thing that would stop him from fighting would be incapacitation, like when she dropped the organ on him; or death.
And even if he was incapacitated, he'd still find a way to contact her. So if he wasn't here, and he hadn't sent her any message...he must be dead...Spike was dead...Spike was dead because they killed him...they killed Spike.
Buffy didn't see red so much as make it; with the mantra 'they killed Spike' fueling her blood lust she decimated the enemy like a 9 year old burning up an ant colony with a magnifying glass.
Los Angeles - Still several blocks away from Graumans theatre
Dawn feigned to the left, her attackers moving in stride. Quickly she fell back to the right, dropped down and slashed at the ankles, her sword cutting through muscles and tendons, not digging her blade in enough to get caught in the bone; but enough to drop them. Quickly she stabbed each one in the chest and hacked away at the neck of one vamp.
After all was said and done she'd taken out 5 of the original 30 attacking her and the slayers. Both girls were busy holding their own, and couldn't get to her. But she wasn't scared, she could handle herself. Suddenly a vampire leapt through the store front she had her back braced to; the glass flying over and into her head she ducked, when she righted herself the vamp was already behind her and grabbed her around the neck.
"Lets see if you taste as good as you look."
As it's fangs descended into her neck and the slight sting pierced her fear she cried out.
"I'm not a damn red shirt."
Right as she lifted her foot to crush his instep, something happened. She felt something whiz past her face, at the same time the rapport of a rifle sounded out, and something cold and wet splashed against the side of her head.
The vampires arms fell away and it's body hit the ground. She opened her eyes and looked behind her to see that the fiend had a bullet hole smack dab in the middle of his forehead. With the ringing in her ears she no longer heard the fighting.
Turning around she noticed the fighting had actually stopped as the demons and her slayer pals regard a small group standing on a roof across the street. Her savior stands with one foot up on the ledge, and the rifle used to save her life propped against his shoulder. Peering out over the group below he bellowed.
"Eh you guys!"
Dawn's memory flashed with images from a 80's flick involving Pirates, Josh Brolin (Yummie), and some guy named Sloth. Apparently no one else got the reference as they all looked at him unamused. She's barely able to make it out as he mutters under his breath.
"No one appreciates my sense of humor."
He signals to two of his group, who Dawn notices are a pair of twins, one boy one girl; probably about 12 years old. They nod their heads and he proceeds to leap off the building, even three stories high it looks brazen, and completely stupid for anyone not equipped with super strength or agility. At the last second before he touches the ground, his rate of descent halts and he glides to the earth. The twins above holding their hands with their eyes closed, having helped him down.
As the others follow the same way he smiles and unsheathes a bad ass looking machete.
"Not big Corey fans? Well that's your last mistake."
Again the demons don't even bother to flinch, the largest one attempting to bum rush the leader; he turns and runs, much to Dawn's surprise, only to jump off the wall when he reaches it, coming down in front of the mammoth he swings his machete, cleaving off the side of the demons head.
His backup jumps into action laying waste to the demons, with their support, the rest of the enemy is expelled in a few minutes. He strolls up as she puts her fingers to the wound in her neck, drawing them back they are only lightly stained red.
"Sorry about that, I was waiting for a good shot."
Dawn looks up, ready to chastise him for being so careless, when she gets her first good look at him.
In his early twenties, he is stocky, unshaven and barely 5'10. His frame is not one of towering muscles, but firm solidarity. His face is not built of marble, circles seem almost etched out under his eyes, and his hair is medium length and auburn. A light knife scar adorns his right cheek. Finally his eyes, they do not sparkle, they seem cold and welcoming at the same time. Bluish gray like a thunderstorm they tell her everything she needs to know about him.
This man is a tortured soul, one who would rather spend his days drinking his life away yet still finds some worth in the world that he is compelled to stand and fight for his fellow man, even if they too seem to be monsters themselves. Like Xander he hides behind jokes so no one sees the inner pain dwelling beneath the surface. How she knows this is beyond her grasp, but one thing is crystal clear.
He is a complete and totally utter disaster waiting to happen, and she might already have fallen for him.
"Are you half fish, or are you practicing for a Pixar movie?"
With his voice the haze is broken, and she finds her lips have been opening and closing this entire time. All thoughts of tortured souls and thunderstorms fly out the window as the Summers temper comes rushing to meet his barb.
"No, I just couldn't think of a word that describes how much of a psycho you are?"
A smile comes to his lips, even his eyes brighten as he contemplates her volley.
"Psycho huh? You mean how I took out your blood donee over there, or saved you and your girlfriends, or possibly reintroduced Corey Feldman to the public at large?"
Dawn found herself beat, unable to give a comeback as ludacris, worry for Buffy overriding her already strong attraction to this man.
"I don't have time for this, my sister is in trouble."
She stalked off, done with him and his sad puppy that's been kicked look, he wasn't even that handsome; there were plenty of guys better looking than him, George Clooney...okay, so at least to her next to George he was just about the hottest thing besides the sun.
A hand entangled itself into hers, and she turned indignant and venomous, to find he showed no mirth, only sincerity.
"How about me and my friends make sure you get there safe?"
Dawn wasn't prepared to let it go though.
"I don't need a security force, okay."
She tried to pull away, but his hand stayed where it was, using no force, but simply not budging. She looked into his eyes, finding herself pulled into them.
"I couldn't very well tell my mother I let you walk through all this madness without a chaperon, she'd probably kill me. So you'd actually be the one doing me the favor, what do you say?"
Yeah, she was gonna fall hard.
A/N: More updates over the next week. Read and Review please; feedback increases inspiration.