Author: Tim Knight

Title: Fatal Four Way

Copyright: July 2002
Rating: PG-13 (Some of our beloved heroes laying ye olde smacketh down on someone trying to hurt one of their beloved heroes. Don't worry; it will make sense eventually)

Spoilers:
Buffy: Season 2 until Phases. Specific Episode, anything in Season 5 with Dawn.
Highlander: Season 5 until Season finale. Richie Ryan lives.

Keywords: Buffy/ Highlander.

Summary: We take a look at a vampire's attack, the close call of the victim, the ass kicking of the vampire, hasty explanations about what just happened, and rewards for the heroines, all from the victim's point of view.

Legalese: All characters except those noted below with their respective rights, properties, and copyrights are the property of the respective creators, authors, owners, producers and agencies. These characters are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended or meant, and no money will be made from this story. This story may be copied in its entirety, and may be distributed as long as all copyright information remains.

The character Shaw Hunter is mine. Anyone wishing to use them may contact me at doobytim@aol.com.
The character Steven St. Wolf is property of Steve Pantovich, as is the universe in which this story takes place. Steve can be contacted at Steve711@concentric.net.

Author's Notes: A crazy, wild idea I came up with on the spur of the moment. Thought I'd write it up and get it done, so people would hopefully have a good laugh. There is some action, so you action junkies get your dose too.

Dedications:
To Steve, Grand High Poobah of the Wandererverse, who will probably be wondering about the state of my sanity when he reads this.
To Jack, who DID edit this tale and rightfully noted my failure to change the editors' thanks to him and made me feel shamed, although I refuse to do Numfar's Dance of Shame.
To Mike, for thinking the idea was worth doing. I'm sure Steve and Rebekah will be wondering about the state of Mike's sanity for encouraging me to do this.

Here are the changes from your regular shows that might play a part in this story:

Buffy:
1. Faith became the Slayer a month later than in the Buffyverse. Because of this, her Watcher lasted a few months longer, which means Faith didn't arrive on the Hellmouth until January of 1999. Since then, she has avoided the betrayal of Gwendolyn Post (who was just as nutzoid in the Wandererverse), boinking Xander (although Tenhawk sort of took care of that anyway, right Tenny?), killing the Deputy Mayor, turning to the Dark Side of the Force, getting put into a coma, switching bodies with Buffy, and going to jail without collecting two hundred dollars.
2. Dawn arrived a year early and unlike the situation in the Buffyverse, the monks didn't do something totally stupid like putting her in the same town as Glory, which in itself made no sense since they were trying to keep her away from the Hellgod in the first place! Slayer or no Slayer, anyone with common sense would have put the Key as far away as possible from the very deity trying to CUT HER OPEN AND END THE WORLD!


Fatal Four Way
(Or, The Way To Add A Whole New Meaning To Having Women Fight Over You)

Arrowhead Pond
Anaheim, California
April 2, 2000

<Man, tonight's the big night,> he thought as he walked through the back hallways of the Pond. Since arriving two hours ago, he'd been getting more and more into the excitement that you could feel in the atmosphere. After all, it was only the biggest night of the year for the entire company, so of course everyone was excited.

<This place is going to be hopping,> he mused with the quirky little grin he was known for. There were going to be thousands of people in the building, all expecting to see the finest the company had to offer. The man himself planned to go all out tonight and give the people what they wanted. He thought about how he'd ended up working for this group; it wasn't exactly what he'd planned when he started attending Miami. <Like I was going to go into the family business...>

He passed some of the technical crew, those people responsible for the communications equipment. He exchanged a few greetings and jokes, smiling since he still had over an hour of free time before having to make an appearance before the people. So he was passing the time by checking out the building to get a feel for it.

He stopped by one of the water stations and helped himself to a cup. He greedily guzzled the water down, being careful not to drip any on his t-shirt and jeans. That was another thing he liked about working for this group; the attire was usually laid-back. <I don't see myself wearing a suit and tie like the boss,> he grinned. <At least not forty hours a week. >

The young man finished his water, helped himself to a second cup, and then tossed the plastic cup into the garbage. Giving an, "Aaaah" of appreciation for the quenching of his thirst, he decided to check with the boss and see if everything was going according to plan. The last thing the company needed was for something to go wrong, especially tonight! If something happened tonight of all nights, the press would eat it up. They didn't need any harmful publicity.

He started walking to where he'd heard the head of the multimillion dollar corporation was ensconced for the time being, a luxury suite that was completely private and barred to the customers. As he walked, a young woman in her mid-twenties rounded the corner. The woman seemed amazed to see him and stopped in her tracks, seemingly speechless.

The man didn't know her, but seeing the ID badge clipped to the collar of her shirt, he decided she must be new to the company. He smiled and greeted the nice-looking girl. "Hey. How's it going?"

"Uhm, uh..." The woman slowly recovered her wits and shyly smiled at him. "I'm fine, thanks." She looked him up and down, seeming to judge his looks. He was used to it. Eventually she looked back into his eyes and asked, "You're HIM, aren't you?"

His smile widened a bit. The new people were usually this way for the first month or so. "Yeah, I am."

"Wow," she whispered before shaking off the awe. The woman glanced around and asked, "All by yourself? I'm surprised you're not hanging out with the other guys."

"I've got some free time," he said with a shrug. As she nodded and moved closer, he got a better look at the picture on her ID badge. It didn't match up with her face, and his smile faded. <Oh God. She snuck back here.> He sighed. "You stole that ID from someone, didn't you?"

The girl openly appraising him froze as she realized he'd seen through her act. She gave him a pout. "Oh come on, I couldn't get this close to you any other way." She started moving up to him, smiling seductively. "You won't turn me in, would you?"

Figuring she was just someone wanting to see him and the others up close, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, lady, but rules are rules. You have to leave, you know that."

"Oh, I'll be leaving," she chirped with a giggle, as if she were privy to some secret she wasn't going to share with him, "but I won't be leaving alone." With that she started reaching for him, like she was going to hug him.

He backed off, sighing at female hormones. <I don't need this, and neither do the guys.> "Lady, I'm going to call security if you don't leave right now."

The look in her eyes changed a bit, and the man could sense some malice mixed with the bounciness in her smile. "Light snack. But I won't be turning any security guards."

Once again she started to try and embrace him, but he was quicker than his size would indicate; he backed out of her reach. <Great. My first stalker.> "Sorry lady, but I don't like people being grabby."

"If you want me to chase you first, I'm game," she said sweetly, desire dripping from her words. She froze for a second and the man watched in shock as her face suddenly shifted like something you'd see on TV.

<What the...> he thought, trying to shake off the instincts that told him to run for his life.

The woman, now bearing ugly ridges for eyebrows, glowing yellow eyes, and fangs, archly snarled, "After all, I like playing with my boyfriends to be."

"Like Hell, bitch!" The man didn't wait for her to grab him; he hauled off and nailed her right between the eyes. The blow had some effect, but less than he'd assumed it would have. Instead of laying her flat on her back, all it did was make her ugly eyes cross. Feeling equal parts fear and anger, although he didn't know why, he hit her again, putting all of his weight behind the blow.

The "girl" who'd snuck into the back staggered back a bit, so he didn't let up. He hit her again and again, shouting for help (hoping it would be in the form of security or some of his bigger coworkers). To his dismay, the time he took to make his shout cost him. His fifth punch, which he'd hoped would finally send this thing sprawling, was instead intercepted by her hand, which stopped the punch cold.

When he tried to retract his fist, she just smirked and growled, "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's not polite to hit women?"

The captured man tried to throw a left, but with his other fist caught he couldn't get the proper stance. Instead, the woman yanked him forward and grabbed him by the chest and waist. To his immense shock, she lifted him over her head and tossed him down the hallway. He landed badly, hitting his back and left shoulder since he couldn't roll with the impact.

<How in God's name did she do that...> his mind asked. <I'm twice her size!> He didn't get any more time to muse about that, let alone get up and run. She walked up, grabbed him by the t-shirt, and yanked him to his feet.

She grabbed the t-shirt with both hands and heaved, tossing him into a stack of leftover folding chairs that would normally be used for the customers when the event started. They hurt worse then he thought they should as he and the chairs went sprawling all over the floor with the sound of crashing metal.

He heard her boots clacking on the concrete floor as she approached him. Through the messages of pain being sent to his brain by various parts of his body, he heard her irately say, "Those punches hurt. But that's okay; I'll let you make up for it after you wake up. I think a few hours in bed together will be enough to make me forgive you."

The unsteady man felt her lift him up by the t-shirt once again. His head was jarred clear when she shoved him, quite forcefully, against the wall. He reached up and tried to move her away, pushing with all his strength. She only smiled and grabbed his wrists. He felt pain again as she squeezed enough to make him yell, but he'd been hurt worse before; came with the territory. He tried fighting but to no avail.

"Oh, just stop it," she cooed playfully. Apparently she was enjoying this. She leaned in again and whispered into his ear. "Trust me, before you know it, you'll be feeling pleasure like you've never felt before."

He tried again in vain to shove her away, but she just laughed it off. She grabbed his head with those strong arms and bent his neck over. He sensed her leaning in toward his neck. Just as two pointed things started applying pressure to his jugular, the thing posing as a girl was vigorously yanked off and away from him.

He backed up and saw the ugly woman being sent airborne across the hallway. She was at least two feet off the ground when she hit the hard wall. She started slithering down, shock at this development plastered across her appalling face.

Before either of them could comment, three shimmers in front of the man dropped away to reveal three more young women. He blinked and smacked the side of his head, thinking that maybe he'd suffered a concussion. But no, they were there. It helped that the woman was also wondering what happened.

The three women split apart, the one on his left shouting, "Dawnie, guard the hunk! We'll take care of Hickey Girl!"

"Got it," "Dawnie," who couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen, barked while reaching into the pocket of her leather jacket. His wonder increased exponentially when she pulled out a slim piece of wood.

"Stay behind me," she ordered him. He decided that her helping save him was worth more than being miffed about a kid giving him orders.

He just said, "Right."

He watched as the woman tagged "Hickey Girl" stood up and rushed him. Too bad for her, the two older women blocked her way. The one on his left, a brown haired girl with a Boston accent, turned sideways and launched a wicked shin kick into the thing's breadbasket. As the thing that had attacked him doubled over from the force of the blow, the black haired girl to his right brought her left arm up and around, hitting her target on the back of the neck with a reverse knife edge chop. The girl was sent face first to the concrete.

The man didn't know what shocked him more; these two teenagers doing more damage with two blows than he'd when they couldn't weigh as much together as him, or that he recognized the chop used by the pony-tailed brunette.

They weren't done. They glanced at each other and nodded. Together they reached down, grabbed Blondie by the armpits, lifted her up, and threw her against the wall with a loud "thud" that made him wince.

The Boston girl peeked back at him over her shoulder and optimistically said, "We'll be right with you." She turned her head back to her tag team partner. "I got first dibs, Hunter."

"Of course, Faith," Hunter said with a European accent the guy couldn't place.

As she backed up, Faith did as well, only straight back instead of to the side like the other older girl. His attacker regained her senses and snarled at them all. "I'm going to tear you apart for that, BITCH!"

"Oh puh-leeze!" Faith drawled, surprising the guy with her confident demeanor. "You know how many of you dead guys I've turned into Dustbuster fodder? Too many to count."

"Oh puh-leeze!" the girl repeated derisively. She took up a confrontational stance and prepared to send a punch Faith's way. "The only way some skanky ho like you could hurt me is if you're the Slayer!" Then she threw her punch.

<God, even I could dodge that punch!> was his first thought; one thing you learned was not to telegraph moves like that. So he wasn't surprised when this "Faith" chick dodged the blow.

When she hit the thing in the gut with a right hook and followed up with a left roundhouse to the jaw in less than a second, THAT surprised him. The girl who'd tossed him around like a rag doll hit the wall but immediately spun off, a stunned and angry look on her face.

"What are you?!?" she demanded.

"Said it yourself, Blondie." The Boston girl then moved in on her target. On instinct, he moved to help her but was held back by the kid protecting him.

"Don't worry," she said with full confidence, "we're professionals."

<Right. Professionals.> The thing was, he didn't doubt it. "Sure."

The ridge-eyed monster girl tried to barrel into Faith but the East Coaster moved to the side with speed the man had never seen, on the football field or anywhere! She decided to fight "girly style," grabbing the blonde girl by the hair. What wasn't "girly style" was her pivoting on her feet and sending her face first back into the wall. The guy heard bone cracking and cringed; he couldn't help it, despite having heard similar impacts during his tenure with the company or in college.

This so-called Faith grabbed Blondie by the head, her fist gripping a handful of hair. "Your turn, Shaw."

The European girl nodded and Faith shoved his molester in her direction. She just spun around and hit the thing flush on the cheek with a spin kick, the ponytail sticking out the back of her baseball cap snapping in time with her body like a whip. HE thought that kick should be coming from Chuck Norris, not some teenager here for the big event.

The brown-haired Boston girl gripped the wobbly thing by the arms and held her tight. "Want another shot?"

"Just one." With that, she grabbed the monster's blouse and delivered a bone-cracking head butt!

<OUCH!> the man thought.

The older girls took the bleary-yellow-eyed "woman" by the arms and faced both he and the girl who'd guarded him. He saw the youngest of the bunch nod as her long, straight brown hair jerked once. She drew back the arm holding the pointed piece of wood and jabbed forward into the blonde's chest, wasting no motion or momentum. He had barely time to draw breath that this was murder before the blonde woman, her ugly yellow eyes bulging out, suddenly disintegrated before his very eyes!

He could only stare as what two seconds ago was something out of Night Gallery was left as nothing but a big pile of dust in the hallway. He continued watching the dust on the floor as the girl who'd just stabbed her said, "Thanks for not hogging all the action."

"No problemo, sis," the girl named Faith chimed in merrily. The man started when she gently gripped his arm. "You okay, big guy?"

He took in their appearances and couldn't believe that these three girls had just taken down a... whatever that was. < Especially in their getups!>

The woman named Faith was wearing a cherry-red sleeveless blouse, tight silver leather pants, and what had to be four-inch heels. The other older girl, Shaw, wore a black t-shirt, tight blue jeans, sneakers, and the baseball cap he'd noticed earlier had an all-too-familiar bull's head insignia on it. The kid of the group had on a deep blue top that brought out her eyes, a nice leather jacket, and a mini-skirt that he was surprised this kid's mother let her wear in public!

"I-I..." he stammered slightly before realizing that the girls were checking to make sure he was all right. He shook himself and the girls backed off, giving him some space. His eyes shot between all three of these young women. He felt like his caution was misplaced, since all he saw was concern for his well being. That is, besides the fact they obviously recognized him. "Little shaken and pretty bruised." He rotated his shoulder; it was sore, sure. But he'd been through worse. "I'll be fine."

The girls didn't look sure about his claim but they didn't argue. The European girl peered at him. "Are you certain that you are all right?"

"Yeah. Been hurt worse playing football in high school," he said with a grateful nod. Then everything that had just happened began to sink in and he blinked a few times. He saw the looks in the girls' eyes; they knew he was about to ask some serious questions.

Before he even uttered the first syllable, Faith stepped forward, holding her hands up. "Whoa, don't even start that! Don't ask, ‘cause we can't tell."

"But..."

"We are not allowed to speak of these matters," Shaw said, cutting him off like her friend had. "Believe us when we say, even if we were not prohibited from speaking of these matters, we would not." She gave him a look that showed she understood his bafflement, but she shook her head, closing off the discussion before it even got started. "And please, it would be best if you keep this to yourself. We cannot risk what just happened becoming known to the general public. Not even to your family."

He was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion as to why. He pursed his lips. "Military?" When all three girls stiffened in shock, he chuckled. "I'm not stupid." Before they could protest, he added, "One of the guys I work with was in the Army Rangers. Perry's showed some of his moves off before."

"One of your guys was in the Rangers?" the squirt of the trio asked suspiciously. Before he could answer, Shaw laid a hand on her shoulder. "I know who he is talking about." The pale, black-haired teen nodded. "And there are things he is not allowed to talk about, am I right?"

"Yep. So I understand this a little bit." He shook his head again. "What I can't get is you kids, no offense, taking her out after she cleaned my clock!"

"Someone's got a bruised eeee-go!" Faith sang out, her twinkling brown-green eyes robbing her words of any sarcasm. She was just having some fun, and he wasn't going to argue.

"To go along with every other bruised part of his body," Dawn added, her blue eyes gleaming. She giggled, "Sorry, couldn't resist."

Faith pursed her lips and seemed to come up with an idea. "Here you go, Studley Do-Right; ask your Ranger bud about a dude named ‘Cherokee.' He'll give you the 411."

"All right," he said. He glanced at the dust scattered across the hallway and still wondered a great deal about what his saviors weren't going to tell him, about things like what that girl had been, how they'd appeared out of thin air, and how they'd managed to do so much damage for the petite things they were. <I don't think they can top my weight by more than thirty pounds between all three of them!> Even though the suspense was killing him, he didn't ask the questions dancing through his mind.

"You okay, Tall, Dark and Hubba-Hubba?"

The way Faith phrased that question turned his attention back to the girls, who were trying not to giggle. <Giggling about her being a smartass or my wondering about this... Screw it. I don't want to know.> That last sentence sounded hollow to him; he DID want to know, but not at the cost these girls hinted they might pay for answering the numerous questions dancing around his head.

He looked the three kids over again and, despite the fact they were back here illicitly, just like the blonde that had attacked him, smiled at them to show his gratitude. <Hey, they pulled my ass out of the fire.> "Thanks, girls."

"No prob," Faith said before Dawn, the youngest, muttered, "Crap! The show's about to start. We gotta jet if we're gonna get our seats!"

"Wait!" he shouted before the girls could completely turn around. As all three of his svelte saviors faced him once again, the man looked them in the eyes as best he could. "You just saved my life. Before you vanish like cowboys into the sunset, is there anything I can do for you? To show my thanks, I mean."

The girls seemed taken by surprise, as if they weren't used to being asked if they wanted rewards for saving someone's life. THAT struck a chord with the guy, who realized that they did whatever it was they did, because someone had to do it.

"Seriously," he said, more resolute upon realizing that, "is there anything?"

Dawn smiled suddenly and started rummaging through her purse. After ten seconds or so she pulled out a disposable camera and asked, "Can we get some quick pictures?"

<That's IT?> Seeing the determined look on her face being replaced by that of an eager-eyed young woman, something he was glad to see, he nodded. "How do you want to do it?"

"Here squirt!" Faith said, yanking the camera out of the kid's hands. "Let him pick you up like Tarzan doing Jane! We'll mess with B's head and tell her some guy put the moves on ya!"

"You're evil." The kid snickered, then she ran up and yelled, "Catch!"

She jumped and he didn't have any choice; he caught her with both arms and held her up to his chest, with her holding her arms around his neck and one leg kicked all the way out. He looked at Faith, a goofy smile on his face. Before he could set his face for a better look, the girl from the East Coast snapped the pic.

Dawn gave him a peck on the cheek and squirmed her way out of his arms. "Thanks!" she gushed.

"You're welcome," he laughed. These girls' attitudes were catching. "How about you two?"

Faith grabbed Shaw's wrist and tossed the camera to Dawn, who fumbled it before getting a good grip on it. The man smiled at the evil glare she shot at the older woman.

He just stood there as Faith situated her partner at his right side, her taking up the same spot on his left. Both older girls turned sideways and he wrapped his beefy arms around the girls, placing his hands flat on their upper backs. "Okay. Shoot away, kid."

Just as Dawn grinned and brought the camera up, the two teenagers in his arms made their moves. Shaw placed her right hand on his chest and stood on her tiptoes, giving him a surprise kiss on the cheek. Faith, on the other hand, reached up with her left hand, grabbing a fistful of shirt and pulling down to show off some of his impressive chest. Then she went a step further, bending her left leg at the knee and bringing it up along his thigh. She also put on a "come hither" look for the camera, making him groan on the inside; that picture was going to make it look like she was climbing all over him! He just accepted their hijinks as the camera flashed a second time.

Dawn brought it down and said, "You two are evil!"

"Damn straight," Faith drawled in that New England accent as she and Shaw released him.

"You two are enjoying this," the man said ruefully. He glanced at the Boston teenager. "No peck on the cheek?"

"Like I do stuff halfway!" Faith chirped. With the same speed that had impressed him earlier, she grabbed his t-shirt and pulled his head down to hers. THEN she laid a big old smacker on his lips, crushing them with her kiss. As his eyes closed from the awesome lip lock, he felt her bending him over at the waist like a guy would do to a woman in the movies. After about thirty seconds, she let him back up.

He just stood there, trying to catch his breath and feeling pretty dizzy from that... <WOW!>

Apparently, she read what he was thinking. "You got that right, buster," she drawled, a seductive smile on her face. She turned and drawled, "Say bye-bye, Shaw."

He glanced at the smiling woman and winced. "I don't think I can take another kiss like that."

Shaw just shook her head, her hazel eyes luminous with laughter. "You do not have to worry. And thank you; it is not every day that we receive thanks for doing our duties. Usually we must take satisfaction in knowing that we have saved lives. So this is somewhat special for us."

"Were you following her or were you following me?"

The girls looked somewhat sheepish. Faith shrugged in embarrassment. "We were lucky. I realized what Blondie was and followed her. We lost her and prob'ly wouldn't have found you in time if we hadn't found the dude she knocked out."

The man indeed realized just how lucky he'd been. <Someone Up There must've been looking out for me.>

"We gotta jet, guys," Dawn reminded them, looking anxious.

Faith nodded and shot a silly grin his way. "Sorry stud; we gotta motor. We'll be keeping half an eye out for other ugly guys and girls, so don't worry. You just concentrate on putting on a good show for us." Her voice became husky. "Besides, we can't wait to see you without that t-shirt on."

"Here, here," Dawn repeated.

He just rolled his eyes in amusement. The cap-wearing girl came up to him and said, "One way to repay us would be to beat the living Hell out of your coworkers tonight."

He snorted in laughter. "I'll do my best."

She nodded and turned away, heading down the hallway with her female friends. The man just watched them vanish around the bend and sent up silent thanks for his three saviors.

<But just what did they save me from?> he wondered. Sending one last glimpse toward the pile of ashes on the floor around him, he started walking, hoping to find someone to talk to, if only so he wouldn't be alone. <I just hope I don't have weird dreams about this when I get back to the hotel. God, I'm going to be sore tonight.> Upon reflecting on that last thought, he started laughing since if not for those three girls, being sore would've been the least of his troubles! <Like I said, I've been hurt worse!>

That thought bolstering his spirits, the man smiled and made himself a promise. <I'm going to put on the show of a lifetime for those ladies. They've earned it.>

Yes, if Dwayne Johnson had any say in the matter at all, those butt-kicking babes were going to remember this night for the rest of their lives. Yes, they would definitely savor what the Rock was cookin'.

The End

Home