Destructive Like a Chihuahua
Title: Let the Black Waves Roll
Disclaimer: I do not own: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Dark-Hunters (Glee or Supernatural)
Summary: This is what happens when a Watcher of average abilities is forced into tight quarters with a Bear who’s faced numerous heartaches. Sanctuary will never be the same.
A/N: This is the light before the dark, mean hearted part of the Resurrected ‘verse strikes. (There may be some slight lifting from ROT.) Let the Black Waves Roll
Destructive Like a Chihuahua
Kit should have never taken the assignment. Done the favor. Whatever. Xander would blithely remind her that ‘the Council did not order you, per se.’, that one-eyed bastard. She honest-to-goddess only had herself to blame. New Orleans came with a pretty damn big warning sign. Attention all idiots: you may
be eaten here. Do not expect to be anything but
fair game to the super/preternatural beings that lurk within. Do not expect to walk blithely down Bourbon street and not get drunk.
Okay, that last one probably didn’t apply to the current situation. Said being her being flung around like the weakling mortal she was. Godsdammit.
“I think we have a failure to communicate,” Kit spat out through gritted teeth. “I’m just a girl trying to get her drink on.”
“What a coincidence, so am I,” the male creature growled at her.
“So that’s just a strap-on?” Kit ducked one outstretched fist, bringing her knee up quickly. “Whoops, guess not.”
“You stupid little cu-” he growled out.
“As I was saying, run away,” Kit muttered, spinning away from him.
The bar she was supposed to have her important favor/assignment was only half a block away. It was called Sanctuary for a reason. She was fairly fast-ish on her feet, she could outrun this thing, right? She’d gotten about maybe fifteen feet away when something wrenched at her shoulder, yanking her backwards to the hard, unforgiving pavement.
“Sunuvabitch!” Kit screamed, dropping painfully to the ground. “Dawn is so dead.”
“Yep, you are, babe,” the creature spat in her face.
“Yeah, cause I go around talking in the third person, shithead,” Kit rolled away from him, her back tightly against the wall. “Great, a fucking alleyway.”
“A good place to die, precious.”
“Did you just Smeagol me? Really?” she sneered, kicking at his legs.
Because she so wanted him to fall face-first into her. Kit yelped as he fell forward, and managed to roll out of the way. She painfully pulled herself to her feet with the use of one arm. The other one hurt like a bitch, but she could ignore the pain. It beat dying. This whole day was going to the dogs. First her flight was delayed, then they lost her bag, and now she was about to become some creep’s Kibbles n’Bits.
He’d fucked up her arm. But the creeper hadn’t fucked up her legs. She raced back out of the alley and zeroed in on the bright lights ahead of her. She knew he would follow. She was a yummy, tasty morsel of some sort for him. Sure, he could find another snackin’, but she was already roughed up. Easy pickings. Kit yelled when the arms dug again into her injured arm. That was fucking it!
She pulled out every girl go-to fight technique she could think of - she slapped, she spit, she raked her nails across all of the fleshy bits available to her. She kicked at any tender spots. She might die, but she sure as fuck wasn’t going out without a fight.
Suddenly, she was thrown away from him, her back hitting an immovable wall of stone. Kit groaned as she slid down the wall.
“There goes my fight,” she cracked her jaw and looked up into the face of her death.
Except the creeper was no longer coming at her. He was running like a little bitch. From the big, bulking shadow standing in front of her, shielding
her. And he was ginormous. So, he was either going to eat her or he was going to save her. Can he do both
? Kit shook her head as he turned to face her. Ho boy. Can he
please, please gobble me up
? She wouldn’t mind dying from that.
And then he glowered at her. Ooohkay, maybe not. Kit winced as she tried to pull herself up, the thump of loud music reverberating through her back.
“This Sanctuary?” she cleared her throat, licking her lips as she worked up the nerve to speak to the hovering behemoth. He grunted in reply. “Oh, goody. Go team me. Uh, can I get a little help?”
He crossed his arms and glowered down at her. Great. She wasn’t feeling altogether welcome nor safe at the moment.
“Fine, be a hard ass,” Kit muttered, pushing herself to her knees. “I don’t want to know why you’re here, but just know that I am eternally grateful, honest.”
He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat and reached for her arm. The bad one. She moaned in pain as he hauled her up to her feet with such stregnth that she was damned sure he must have dislocated her arm. Most likely though, he’d probably fixed it. Still hurt like a bitch.
“Motherfucker!” Kit winced, reaching up protectively with her other arm. “Maybe I’m not!””
“Please tell me you’re seriously not ragging on my language,” Kit said through gritted teeth.
“What are the chances you’re the Peltier brother I’m supposed to be meeting with?” Kit fought the wince as she gingerly rubbed her shoulder.
Kit glanced up at him. God, he was fucking huge. He wasn’t her contact. And she was by herself with him. Yeah, that couldn’t end well.
“Dev can’t make it,” He stepped closer into the light.
Kit’s eyes snapped up to his face, focusing tightly on him. Hot, blond beast of a man, he matched the image Dawn had given her of the contact. Then one niggling little fact popped up to the surface.
“Fuck!” Kit growled. “Which quad are you?”
“I’m so fucking strangling Dawn,” Kit muttered. “I’m Kit Holburn.”
“Summers said you were.”
“So you’ve met Dawn.”
“Wow, you’re such a chatty Cathy. However will I get a word in edgewise?” Kit rolled her eyes at him. He was gorgeous, and the broody thing even kind of worked for him. Or, at least on her. And imagine, there were four of them. “What are the chances I can get my arm looked at?”
“Good.” Remi shifted his head to the door and waited for her to lead the way.
“Said the spider to the fly,” Kit paused at the threshold. It felt like there was no coming back from this. How right she’d be on that front. “It’s gonna sting like a bitch.”