Hi, this is my first Buffy crossover fic. Be nice.
I own nothing except this plot.
Rain drizzled down onto the teeming metropolis below, vibrant with life despite it being two in the morning. Grandiose metal structures extended vainly for the skies above, and the artificial lighting nearly fooled one into thinking that it wasn’t night at all.
This is Manhattan.
And in a little abandoned corner of Manhattan, a figure wearing a long trench coat, huddled under an umbrella rushed in an attempt to get away from the elements.
We see that the figure is a he, and that his is white, not pale but the peaches and cream shade that’s particularly common. He has straggled brown hair and only one visible eye, the other either gone completely or just hidden. We can’t tell, because his eye patch obstructs our view.
He shivers, and pulls his coat tighter to ward off the chills from his body. “Only three more blocks.” He chants this, as though to give himself strength. We are surprised by the accent he bears- it’s unmistakably Californian.
The neighborhood that surrounds him is disconcerting; broken glass windows which are boarded up, graffiti of gang symbols and vulgar messages, and litter varying from soda cans to newspapers to old rags made up the majority of the landscape. The few trees and shrubs were bedraggled and gray.
A noise comes from a darkened alleyway, and the man in the trench has no time to react as a hand attached to a leather clad arm grabs onto his sleeve and drags him into the alley as well.
The man found himself surrounded by five thugs, not including the one still holding his coat. They all looked dirty, as though in need of several hot showers.
“Well, look at what we have here, boys.” The thug with the mohawk, obviously the ringleader of this little sideshow, said with a wide, yellow toothed grin. “We found ourselves a Cyclops.”
The one eyed man rolled his good eye, obviously not impressed. “Is that the best intimidation that you can muster? ‘Cause, I gotta tell you, I’ve seen tiny women who scared me worse than-”
Before he could finish that sentence, Mohawk Thug decided that he’d heard enough, and punched him in the face. As he fell, the trench opened to reveal what looked like army fatigues from a porno, including little short-shorts that concealed nothing.
A thug with snakebite piercing started chortling. “Look guys, we found a fag!”
The thug that had been holding him licked his lips. “We should teach this fairy a lesson. What he’s doin’ ain’t natural.” And with that, he kicked the man in the head, causing him to emit a low groan.
And then they heard a roar.
That was all the warning they got as two creatures, a red male and a blue female, crashed down from the sky, taking out three of the thugs by landing on them. Immediately, they took out two more, Snakebite and Mohawk, with their tails, leaving only the guy who had kicked the man.
“Say nighty night.” Snarked the male creature before whipping the guy with his tail into the wall.
The female creature walked over to the man, and checked his condition. He looked at her with a discerning expression. “You don’t eat people, right?”
A grimace crossed her features, which were decidedly more human looking than her companion’s. “No, that would be as bad as cannibalism.” She smiled at him. “I’m Angela, and this is Brooklyn. We mean you no harm.”
He gave her a somewhat crooked smile. “I’m Xander. G’night.” And he promptly passed out.
“Well, that’s new.” Brooklyn looked down at the human with something akin to amusement, but not quite. “We should wrap these guys up and leave before the police patrol here. Or worse, the Quarrymen show up.”
“We can’t just leave him here, he’s defenseless. What if some other gang comes by and tries to do the same thing?” Angela protested as she twisted the ‘cuffs’ onto the thugs, her instincts not allowing her to leave someone unconscious out in the open.
“It’s not like we can take him to the hospital, Angie-“Angela snorted in annoyance at the nickname. “Sorry, Angela. The Quarrymen are there twenty four seven. And we don’t know where he lives, so that’s not an option, either.”
“Why don’t we take him back to the castle? Xanatos will surely know what to do with him.” Angela lifted Xander into her arms, pulling the coat closed to shield him from the rain. She looked defiantly into Brooklyn’s eyes, daring him to say no.
“You’re not asking permission, are you?” She gave him a small smile. “Let’s go then. We only have three hours ‘til sunrise anyway.”
And with Xander in tow, they made their way up the building, and were gliding quickly toward Castle Wyvern.