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And here's the second half of it.
======== "Yo, Dawn," Steven called out from the walk-in cooler, "do we need any lemon slices for drinks tonight?" Dawn was casually cleaning the bar at the `New Bronze', helping Steve get it ready to open on one of her rare shifts Buffy let her work. Dawn checked the mini-fridge, then called back to Steven, "We could use a half-a- pan up here. Oh, and two quarts of strawberries, Buffy's running a special on smoothies tonight." Steve nodded as he grabbed the requested citrus. Dawn had to smile as she wiped down the bar with a wet cloth. For the first time since her mother's death, Dawn finally felt like she had a true family. Ever since that final battle with Glory, where she watched her sister dive off of the mad goddess's tower, Dawn felt disconnected from any family. Her father had all but abdicated the title, Giles had left for England, Spike was never really family even if he cared for her and Buffy in his warped way. Willow and Tara did their best to fill the void but it didn't feel the same. Even when Buffy miraculously returned from the dead it didn't feel entirely like her. Buffy had been distant, removed from the world, from her friends, from Dawn. Then things got worse. Tara left. Willow got mixed up with bad magic. Buffy got mixed up with Spike. Tara came back, only to have a bullet slam through her body, killing her instantly. Willow went insane, nearly taking the world down with her in her grief. It was that final terrible day, when Buffy's best friend became her worst enemy that led to things turning around for Buffy. Whatever darkness had claimed her, Buffy had finally fought and defeated it that night. For the first time since her resurrection, she wanted to reclaim her life. More importantly she wanted to share that life with Dawn. Naturally the Hellmouth had other ideas. There was an apocalypse to deal with, new potential slayers to train and a hundred other details. For awhile Dawn feared that she was losing the sister she had finally found again to the general she was becoming. And as the situation with the Caleb and the First Evil became more desperate, as emotions and tensions between everyone became frayed, Dawn did the only thing that made sense at the time. She turned her back on her sister. But somehow that was behind them. The Hellmouth was behind them. The crater that used to be Sunnydale was behind them. And here in Seattle she and Buffy finally bonded as sisters, not as Slayer and Key. And now that Willow was living in Seattle and back in Buffy's life, Dawn felt happier than she could remember feeling in a long time. Her family was back. Dawn grabbed a chamois and started to buff the brass fixtures around the bar to a vibrant sheen when she heard a commotion at the main entrance. The door to club burst open and a petite redheaded girl stumbled in, holding an obviously bleeding gash in her side, her t-shirt ripped and bloodied. "Vi!" Dawn screamed out as she saw the girl. "Oh...thank God, I f-found the right...place." The redhead mumbled as she collapsed on the floor. Dawn rushed over to her fallen friend and checked for a pulse. She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt it still beating strong and that Vi had only passed out from the pain and exhaustion. "Steve I need your help!" The young brunette yelled out to the strong man staring aghast at the scene before him. "Now, Steve!" He dropped the grapefruits, rushed to her side and asked what he could do. "I need you to carry her to the office and put her on the couch, ok? Oh and place her so this side is facing out," she ordered Steven, indicating the wound on the girl's side. "Dawn I don't think we should move her and also I think we should call an ambulance." Steven started to protest. "No, no ambulance or police Steve," Dawn shook her head violently. "Now get her moved to the office. When you've done that I need you to call Buffy and tell her I need the "Emergency Kit" she'll understand." Dawn looked at the redhead and continued. "Oh and also have her bring some old clothes she doesn't mind getting messed up." The blonde man gingerly picked up the wounded girl and carried her to the back office. Vi whimpered softly as he placed her on the couch. Dawn rushed in carrying the woefully inadequate first aide kit from behind the bar and ushered Steven out of the room. The manager then went back to the bar and called his boss to relay the message Dawn told him to give. Dawn closed the door behind the retreating man and moved over to the couch. Vi was still passed out and had her face scrunched up in pain. Dawn gently smoothed the girl's red bangs from her sweat-damp brow and closed eyes. "Oh Vi what happened to you?" The young brunette whispered. Dawn then went into what Buffy once called 'watcher junior mode' and broke open the kit she brought with her. Using the small scissors she found in the case, she carefully cut the wounded girl's tight tee shirt off her strong young body. Dawn inspected the open wound and found that no main arteries were cut and that the girl's abdomen hadn't been punctured. "Good it's only a flesh wound." Dawn whispered and proceeded to clean the wound out with peroxide. Once she had cleaned it adequately, Dawn packed the gaping cut with all of the gauze from the kit and waited for Buffy to arrive. Within a few minutes, Buffy and Willow rushed into the club and the blonde called out for Steve. "Where are they?" "In the back boss. Dawn's got the girl back in the office." Her assistant manager replied. The two women ran to the back office. "Good you're here." Dawn sighed once she saw her sister. "Ok Buffy, open the case. I need the Vicral sutures and a large bandage," the younger Summers stated clinically. Buffy did as her sister bade and handed her the suture kit. Dawn carefully stitched the wound closed as Willow looked on. "Wow Dawn those are some really good stitches. How'd you get so good doing that?" The witch asked. "Um, temper tantrums and stuffed animals don't really get along Willow." The brunette answered, all the while never taking her eyes off of the injured girl on the couch. "Ok now I need the bandage." Dawn stated as she tied off the last stitch and cut the thread free. Buffy handed it to her and watched as Dawn tenderly placed it over the fresh stitches and lovingly smoothed it out on the girl's side. Dawn sat back on her heels and looked up at Buffy, seeing the wonderment in her older sister's eyes. "What?" Dawn asked innocently. "When did you become all take-charge girl? I don't know but I think I kinda like that side of you Dawnie." Dawn turned her head away at Buffy's praise, and Buffy smiled at her sister's blush. "Do you think we should wake her or just let her rest?" Dawn asked ignoring her sister's complement. "Let's wake her," Buffy replied. "We need to know what happened to her and if it was slayer related." Dawn reached into her kit and pulled out a little ampoule, snapped it open, and waved it under Vi's nose. The young girl thrashed around for a bit then her eyes opened and focused on the people in the room. "Hey I found you." Vi whispers as she recognized Buffy. "Yes you did Vi, so why don't you tell us how you got hurt ok?" Buffy asked going straight into "Slayer Mom" mode. Vi tried to get a little more comfortable, despite the pain lancing her side, before she started. "Ok let's see, oh yeah I was looking for this place and down at the end of the block I ran into these three guys. Well I didn't get any slayer tingles so I didn't think I was in any danger. The leader, I guess that's who he was, starts asking me where I was headed and I told him I was looking for here. He had this weird look on his face and before I knew what was happening one of his friends whipped out a knife and cut me. He said that this would give 'That Bitch' a message not to screw with their business and then they just shoved me down and walked off. That's when I stumbled on down the street and found this club." Buffy fumed as she heard Vi's description of events. "Phat Albert," she muttered to herself. She had hoped that between herself and Officer Richardson they had placed the fear of God in him, but it was clear that Phat still thought he owned the neighborhood. "Now can we call the police?" Steven suggested from the doorway. "Huh?" Buffy shook her head at Steven's words, letting them register. Fishing a small card out of her fanny-pack, she handed the card to her partner. "Oh, right. Steven, call this number for Officer James Richardson. We're on his regular beat, and he gave me that number in case any of Phat Albert's gang tried anything funny around here. Vi," she returned her attention to the young Irish girl, "I know you've probably got the Super Bowl halftime show in your head right now, but do you think you could describe who cut you?" Vi grimaced slightly from the pain, then pursed her lips in thought. "I think so, yes, I can identify the fricken' gobshites that did this to me." "Good," Buffy announced, putting on her leather jacket and heading for the front door. "Willow, Steven, hold down the fort for me. Dawn, Vi, you fill in the cops when they get here. I'm going to have a meeting of the minds with Phat Albert." "In other words," Dawn guessed, "you're gonna bust some heads?" "Something like that," Buffy nodded as she opened the door. "Buffy?" Willow called out to the departing Slayer. Buffy stopped and turned toward her. "Be careful." "Hey," Buffy grinned to assure her friend. "This is me, here." Willow watched silently as Buffy ducked out of the door and into the night. ======== "You're getting sloppy," 'Phat' Albert Moretti backhanded his subordinate, 'Iceman' Isaacs, sending the hapless thug sprawling on the asphalt. "The idea was to make her scared, to discourage anyone from dealing with that Summers bitch." The imposing hood glared down at Iceman, cold contempt pouring out of his eyes. "I wanted that bitch shakin', not bleedin'!" "Cuttin' a bitch up always make her shake, Phat." Iceman said tersely. "You don't get it, Ice," Phat answered. "Last damn thing we need is that bitch comin' after us. I just wanted a little scare, and you nearly get us in trouble!" "Trust me, Phat," an angry voice echoed from the end of the alley. Phat, Iceman and seven other thugs craned their heads, seeing an angry woman, her legs bent in a defensive stance, her figure silhouetted by the streetlights behind her. "He didn't 'nearly' anything. You're in trouble." Seven hands reached within jackets for their guns, but Phat stopped them with a wave of his hand. "No, men," he spoke in a tone of quiet command, "drop your pieces. I want this done long and painful. Fists only." "The girl your goon cut," Buffy snarled as she walked forward, her footsteps on the asphalt as steady as a ticking clock, "she's a friend of mine. As long as your little turf war was between you and me, I was happy to ignore you. But when someone hurts my friends, that makes me unhappy." One thug rushed toward Buffy, his hands thrust forward in a move Buffy recognized as Brazilian kung fu, one of many disciplines Giles had touched on briefly during her early training as the Slayer. He charged toward her, howling from deep in his stomach, only to fold with a satisfying crack as Buffy's foot impacted hard with his gut. As he doubled over in obvious pain, Buffy continued her approach. "And like I said when we first met, Phat, it was in your best interest to keep me happy." Phat didn't say a word, he simply snapped his fingers. Iceman and the remaining thugs immediately sprang into action, circling Buffy, cutting her off from the alley entrance. Phat stood up and strode toward Buffy, his eyes cold and unreadable in the dim light. "I'll hand it to you, Summers," Phat announced blandly. "Few people can take Lupe down as quickly as you just did. You're good. I figure you could take three, maybe four of us down. Too bad there's more than four of us, ain't that right guys?" The other thugs laughed harshly as the circle narrowed around Buffy. Buffy stood her ground, staring Phat straight in the eyes. "You're right, Phat," Buffy said levelly. "I probably could take four of you on a good day." She slowly turned around, facing each of her potential attackers, making sure to make eye contact with each of them as she passed them. "The question is," she continued, her voice calm and deadly, "which one do I take down first?" It was a simple strategy, one Giles taught Buffy during her first year at Sunnydale. When confronted by superior numbers, address them as if you were speaking to each one as an individual, and let each individual vamp know that he would fall before you did. Vampires sometimes attacked in large groups, but they possessed no pack mentality. They tended to think of themselves first and the group second. Much like Phat's thugs, who stopped moving in closer to Buffy and started to back away. Within a few seconds, the first thug ran off into the night, followed by one of his compatriots, then within a minute, all of Phat's troops dispersed, leaving the wannabe gangster alone with Buffy Summers. "And then there were none," Buffy smiled as she slowly moved forward. "My advice after tonight? When you're in the prison showers, don't drop the soap." Phat growled slightly, all pretence of calm civility falling away. "You don't get it, little Slayer," he spoke as his face began to contort. "I've been in charge of this turf for fifteen decades," he hissed through jagged sharp fangs, his now-yellow eyes gleaming with hatred from behind ridged brows. "And I don't care if the rumors that you closed the Hellmouth are true, I ain't lettin' you get in my way, bitch!" Buffy stopped her approach, her eyes widening in shock for a second. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she mentally berated herself, not sensing the warning signs, the little telltale tingles! She absently remembered Vi's claim that she didn't feel any tingle around the thugs. She realized that the sun hadn't set when she arrived at the Bronze, so obviously he wasn't there. And silly me, I went and left Mr. Pointy at home! "Geez," Buffy chimed nonchalantly, as her eyes darted across her field of vision, searching for something she could use as a stake. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" "No, Slayer," he lunged at her as she dodged his clumsy attack. "I kiss yours!" "A century and a half and that's the best comeback you can come up with?" Buffy ducked another brutish assault, watching with grim satisfaction as the vampire charged into a pile of crates. Buffy noticed the splintered and moldering wood around the alley and smiled. It was time to wrap this thing up. Buffy crouched for a second, then kicked off, jumping toward the pile of splintered wood crates, landing squarely on her feet. She grabbed a jagged chunk of wood and broke it across her knee into a manageable length, satisfied with the tapered point at one end. Not aerodynamic, she thought, but it'll do. "Y'think that will help you, little Slayer?" Phat sneered, slowly circling around the Slayer. Buffy shrugged innocently, "I was kinda banking on it, yeah." She replaced her bland _expression_ with a determined glower, adding, "I'll just make it hurt a little more. Didn't like that crack about my mom." The vampire snorted before rushing Buffy again. Buffy stood her ground until Phat was within striking distance, and jumped toward him, impacting his body with hers. Pain lanced through her abdomen, forcing her to double over on the ground beside the vampire. She quickly examined her midsection, wincing at the spreading red on her sweatshirt. From the impact with the vampire, her deep stomach gash, the final wound she had suffered in battle against the First Evil, had opened, sending waves of pain through her belly. She twisted around slowly, trying to keep in front of Phat, only to be sent flying backward by a boot to the chin. "Your rep is inflated," Phat sneered, as he towered over the fallen Slayer. "Of course, once word gets around that I iced a Slayer," he added, pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket, "my street cred'll be spread all over town!" "What a coincidence, so will you!" Something hit Phat's back with a muffled thud, causing the vampire to arch his back in pain, before instantly decomposing into dust. Buffy lifted her head heavily, watching as a familiar and confident figure strode toward her, a crossbow draped casually over her shoulder. "Hey, Buffy," Faith asked as she knelt down beside Buffy. "You okay? Looks like your playmate got in a lucky swipe." "B-buffy?" the blonde Slayer asked wearily. "What happened to 'B'?" "Please, let's not get into that now!" Faith raised her eyebrows in exasperation. Carrying her crossbow by its shoulder strap, she slowly lifted Buffy to her free shoulder, saying, "C'mon, sister Slayer, let's get you back home." Buffy gratefully accepted Faith's help, leaning on her shoulder as Faith guided her home. "Friends are the DNA of society. They are the basic building blocks of life. If you have a couple of good ones, treasure them like gold. There's nothing better. Ever look at that MCI ad they have, "Friends and Family"? Who do they mention first? Your friends help you carry the big weight in life. That big burden we've all got called, 'What the Hell am I doing?'" --Jerry Seinfeld |