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Dark Streets

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  • Dark Streets

    Dark Streets

    by Bre
    Disclaimer: I'm borrowing.
    Distribution: PS; otherwise, please ask.
    Feedback: Appreciated.
    Spoilers: Very slight spoilers for 'Prophecy Girl.'
    Author's Notes: This is set during the summer between S1 and S2 of BtVS when Buffy is in L.A. visiting her father. Working title as of just a few minutes ago. My first ficlet since 2006 and I wrote this because I had a verbal attack while I was downtown a few weeks ago and I wanted to punch this guy in the throat. So I had Buffy do it.

    Rating: PG - a little bit of fighting.
    Summary: Ficlet. A random attack on the dark streets of L.A.


    The wind was whipping through the alleys forcefully, crashing into the open doors and windows with violence. The sound of trash being ripped from tender trash bags could be heard smacking against the dirty brick walls down each street she crossed and white trash tornadoes could be seen in her peripheral.

    She was freezing her ass off and that was not an easy feat in Los Angeles.

    Maybe the skirt that was quickly trying to make its way up her hips due to the gusts whipping her legs wasn’t such a great idea. Nor were the bright yellow pumps that her father bought for her as she struggled to remain upright when the wind made a play to knock her slight frame to the ground.

    But screw it, she looked good. She spent the night hanging out with people she hadn’t seen in months while looking like nothing in the world was wrong with her; looking like a million bucks. Looking nothing like the way she had left when she burned down the gym of Hemery High School. Totally worth this ridiculous walk back to her father’s house.

    “Stupid wind,” she said to herself under her breath, pulling the hood of her light jacket tighter around her head. Her hair was all but lost at this point and she was slightly grateful that she was dealing with it now rather than earlier where it would have ruined her hard worked-at appearance.

    Squinting against the wind, she walked quicker as she found herself tugging her skirt down again. It was nearly a pencil skirt, this shouldn’t be a damn issue but the wind was going up up and away.

    Ducking her head, she braced herself as she passed another alley. But it didn’t last long.

    Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed her upper arms and swung her around until her back slammed into the greasy wall. She gasped in surprise, seeing only a dark figure before her. She absently noted that the light on the street near this particular alley must have been broken. That’s just dandy.

    She didn’t have time to react though. The man grabbed her arms again and she was thrust into an open doorway. She fell to the ground, scraping her knee and palms where she had braced herself. She let out a short cry in shock.

    “Come on! Get up!” growled somebody from behind and felt him yanking her up by her arm.

    Alright. This was just not nice.

    “Hey, whoa!” Buffy Summers said loudly, ripping her arm out of the man’s grasp. She found her footing quickly as she faced three men, her hands up. She felt a tug of anger in the bottom of her stomach. She looked around, seeing only negative space in what had to be an abandoned building. “Can I help you gentlemen?”

    Gentlemen. Now that was going to be the best joke in the entire world when she told… well. Buffy felt her mood turn sour quickly for an entirely different reason. Willow and Xander weren’t here. She was alone in L.A. and she hadn’t talked to them since Sunnydale. Since… since certain events that made her stomach do a quick bow down to her feet.

    But this was the here and now. She felt that tickle of anger grow a little more. What if they had attacked someone who wasn’t her?

    “Yeah, you can help us,” one of them sneered. He leered at her, stepping forward and she raised an eyebrow. She matched his step in the opposite direction. “Come on, baby.”

    “Trust me,” Buffy said, taking another step back as the rest advanced on her as well. She took a quick note of her surroundings and saw they were backing her into a dingy corner.

    What class.

    “You really don’t want to do this.”

    “Oh I say we do,” the ring-leader responded once more and then he rushed her. Buffy didn’t move; instead she met him on his advance, slamming the back of her fist easily into his face. He let out a loud scream as blood immediately began flowing down his face and he fell to his knees, tears mixing with the red liquid. “You broke my god damn nose!”

    Buffy shrugged, looking nonchalant but her voice was edged. “I told you. The whole fair warning thing was in effect there.” She saw the others standing back, staring at their friend on the ground. She ****ed her head. “Guys?”

    One of them looked to the other. “Screw this,” he said before turning and running back through the door.

    “Dan, you okay?” the other asked, staring at his friend while keeping a wary eye on the woman before him. She smirked and he felt a shiver run down his spine. “Dan?”

    “Yeah Dan,” Buffy mocked, leaning down where the man was tentatively touching his nose. She mocked the standing man. “You okay?”

    “Get the hell away from me, you bitch,” he returned, his voice gargled by the blood flowing down the back of his throat.

    “Well…” she quipped. ”Maybe next time,” Buffy said, grabbing the front of his shirt and forcing him to meet her eyes. “You’ll listen when someone says that to you.”

    Buffy picked him up off the ground with ease, using her added height to shove him through the air into the other where they collapsed to the ground. She heard another cry from her bloodied pal as his face rubbed the roughened concrete.

    She watched as the uninjured one got up quickly, grabbing his friend by the elbow and dragging him from the building. He was still holding his nose, the coppery scent thick in the air around her.

    She smiled. Then she chuckled. And then she laughed, so loudly it echoed in the empty room.

    The adrenaline was rushing through her veins and it felt good, it felt familiar. And she got to tell a piece of crap excuse for a human that he was... well, a piece of crap. With her fist.

    Walking towards the heavy door, Buffy left the building, not nearly as annoyed as earlier with the wind. She felt it touch her face and she felt lighter as she turned to continue walking to her father’s house.