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NOTES: Rated for language for the moment. As of now, this stands as a one shot but if people actually like this I'm definitely open to continuing. I just really, really like the thought of Dawn, and Weevil together but I couldn't find it, so I wrote it =D Unbeta'd
Cross posted on Fanfiction.net under Incandescent.mind
The sun was rising out of the Pacific Ocean, the pink, and orange hues turning the sparkling surface into a painting that would give anyone pause. Well, anyone who appreciated being awake at 6:45 on a Monday morning, one of which who was definitely not Dawn Summers. Not that it wasn’t beautiful but she was in a piss poor mood, and no amount of light refraction was going to change that.
At seventeen, Dawn was an orphan. Buffy had died while they were in Italy, though it hadn’t been Slayer duty related, surprisingly. A freak car accident, one which no one could have predicted, had killed her instantly. Blunt force trauma to the brain, the doctors told her. She was dead instantly, and didn’t suffer. Well, good for her. Because Dawn was fucking suffering. Willow was M.I.A, Giles had passed from a massive heart attack three years before, and Xander was in no way mentally stable, so Dawn was on her own. It took her three months but she made her way back to the States, dirt poor, and angry. It was this anger that drove her to seek out fights of any kind. She didn’t particularly care if she had a chance of winning, just so long as she could inflict some damage before she went down, and that was how she became involved in this . . . thing. She would call it an underground fighting circuit but that would be giving it too much credit. It was more like a certain group of people got together about once a week, beat the shit out of each other, and then had a few beers together. And it was boring. She knew each opponent’s style, their weaknesses, and how to take them down in the first five minutes. To be fair, she was pretty sure that she was the only one who had grown up with the Slayer as her sister, and then later on dealing with the baby slays, well, she had one hell of a learning curve. She considered herself a graduate of the Fight or Die School of Life, even though she knew that known of them truly made it out. So, here she was, rocketing down a mostly deserted highway that she had seen signs proclaiming it as the PCH, with incredible views of the Pacific, and she really wasn’t paying any attention. Her mind was on other things, like the possibility of having found a not-so distant relation in a city by the name of Neptune, California.
Well, okay not a relation-relation but a relation of Robin Woods, so it was like finding a possible family member. Robin had turned out to be a half decent guy, in the end, and he and Dawn had found a common love of obscure books, and dry, British humor. It was too bad he, and everyone else who worked with Angel, had died in the demon riots in L.A. So, Dawn had set out to see who this woman was- a supposed third cousin who had a son near Dawn’s age who attended the local high school. She even had a plan! She was going to tell them, this Alicia, and her son Wallace, that she had known Robin, and that since they were his only known family, he would want them to have his most beloved books (which may or may not have been random texts that she had picked from the New Council’s library that held no significance to anything). Dawn crested the hill, and there it was. Neptune, a modestly sized jewel nestled by the sea. It looked idyllic. She would soon find out that it was far from charmed.
“Okay, where the hell is the high school?” Dawn was prone to muttering to herself, and this instance was no exception. She had coasted to a smooth stop at the top of the hill, and had put down the kickstand of her matte black Yamaha R1, while looking out over the city. She didn’t care all that much about finding the school right away- punctuality had never been her strong suit- but she also hated getting lost. So, she swung one long leg over the top of her bike, wincing at the lack of sensation in her thighs, and hips after such a long ride, and started digging through her pack for the local map that she had bought in preparation of arriving here. “Where the hell is it?! I know I had it!” Frustrated, she wrenched the full face helmet off, hoping that she would be better able to see without it on her head. Which, you know, didn’t help at all because she’d already had the visor raised but whatever. Sometimes logic also wasn’t one of her stronger personality traits. Right, anyway. She came up empty handed, no map to be found but it wasn’t like it was the end of the world (and she’d totally know, she knew the signs). “Guess I’ll just have to cruise around for a while.” She sighed, “And as much as I like leather, holy shit are these getting uncomfortable. Note to self: Don’t ride for two days in leather pants no matter what kind of protection it offers. Next time it’s denim all the way!” Dreading getting back on her bike, she paced around the turn out for a bit longer, checking her watch. Seeing that it was nearing 7:30, she figured that she should just get it over with if she wanted to make the high school by third period. Dawn climbed back onto her ride, mostly numb ass sliding easily into her preferred riding position, and with a low purr of heavy metal, she began her descent into the valley.
After meandering (and there was no way it was anything else; she’d figured out where Neptune High was twenty minutes ago) through the colorful, and run down streets that she could find Dawn decided that enough was enough, and she just needed to go to school. “But I hate high school!” the leggy brunette whined aloud to herself. And it was true. High school was a bitch, and it seemed to be a global occurrence. Italy had been a nightmare, and a half. And based upon the decidedly odd, and at times, hostile looks she had received as she’d ridden through town, she didn’t hold much hope for this one being any better but at least she was back in California. Even after all the terrible things that had happened here, even though Sunnydale was a giant crater, it was home. With a final sigh, Dawn turned her bike East to make her way to Hell.
Even fifty yards out on the highway, Dawn could see all of the so, so shiny cars, and SUVs that filled the parking lot closest to the school. Unusually teal colored eyes made a quick scan of the other lot that was slightly further out, and seemed to have much more moderately priced vehicles, and a surprisingly large number of motorcycles as its main fillers, so she quickly decided that she would feel more at home in the second lot. The nearer she came, the more attention she seemed to draw, and it wasn’t just her imagination. People were literally stopping in their tracks to point, and whisper to one another. By the time she found a parking spot (located quite near to the group of bikes she had noticed initially) there were at least thirty people just watching her, including the group of guys leaning on the motorcycles. It put her on edge but she was accustomed to being in uncomfortable situations. She tried to just let it ride over her but she should have known that things weren’t going to be that easy. Coming to a complete stop, Dawn huffed out a breath, and shook her head. There were even more of them but now these ones were coming from the lot that she had passed over, the rich kids wanting to see what was going on as well. ‘This is going to be a fun fucking day.’ She thought to herself, ‘Nothing like being a sideshow freak.’ She was broken out of her thoughts by a male voice tinged with a slight Spanish accent.
“Hey, you. What do you think you’re doing here? Can’t you see that this is for PCHers?” Dawn slowly turned her head to the speaker. He was tall, around 6’, with spiky hair that only came from using half a bottle of gel every morning, and she proceeded to ignore his question in favor of pocketing her keys. Which he didn’t like, at all, if the angry shout was anything to go by. And the aggressive steps that he took toward her, and the heavy hand that was suddenly gripping her arm. Not. Okay. Reacting like she usually did- a punch to the face- probably wouldn’t be the wisest of decisions, so she settled for breaking his hold on her arm, swiftly swinging her leg up, and over the gas tank, forcing him to back up even further to avoid being kicked in the gut. The various clusters of high school students fell silent, waiting to see what would come of the drama in the parking lot. The rest of the bikers straightened up, looking much more alert with hard faces. One in particular caught her attention; he wasn’t as tall as the one in front of her but he had a lot of ink showing on his neck, and on the bit of chest that she could see underneath his open leather jacket. The completely shaved head, and the hint of muscle that she could detect completed the picture of a man who could handle himself in a fight, though he was the only one who had remained relaxed against the seat of his bike. Taking her time, making it clear that she was doing things at her pace and no one else’s, she stood up, her black, and battered combat boots adding an extra half inch to her already respectable height of 5’8”. Dawn knew that she was taller than the average American woman, and when you combined that with a slender frame, and classically attractive Caucasian features, well, people came to their own conclusions, many of them along the lines of, “Oh, you must be a model” or people thinking that she was an idiot. Those were the least insulting things that she’d heard over the years. But, as she still had on her emerald leather riding gloves, helmet with her hair coiled into a braid underneath, Spike’s old duster that she had tailored into a jacket that hit her about mid-hip, and her most broken in pair of leather pants that she owned, she doubted that they could tell that she was female. They probably just thought that she was a really skinny guy. ‘Welp, time to get this over with’ So she wasn’t the best at giving pep talks but Buffy had been the cheerleader in the family. Figuring that she might as well get it over with, Dawn yanked her helmet off, causing the waist-length, rich brown braid within to tumble down her back.
“Holy shit!” The sentiment was echoed by several of the other onlookers, and the eyes of Gel Head had turned into saucers. Dawn always kind of loved this part. Call her petty but the looks of shock always made her want to giggle- did they think that only guys rode motorcycles? Glancing around, she thought that just might be the case in this instance. Movement near the cluster of bikers caught her attention again; it was the one who hadn’t moved earlier, and he was walking- no, sauntering- towards her. Soon enough he was right next to Gel Head, running his eyes over her. Generally speaking, that kind of shit made Dawn want to kick someone’s ass but on him, it was sexy, and Dawn knew that she was screwed. First the tattoos, plus his bike, and now the smoldering look? Yeah, she’d never really grown out of her bad boy attraction phase. Keeping her eyes on him, she unzipped her jacket, revealing a simple royal purple tank top in deference to the heat that she knew would come once the sun burned the remaining fog off. His eyes followed her hand down, then swept back up slowly, burning her with the heat that was in them. The smirk that appeared on his face was not helping matters.
“Ai, mami, nice wheels.”
Oh god, she was so fucked.