Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

The Art of Ass Kicking

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

Summary: Crossover with Highlander. Buffy stumbles across a very, very bad man, err... immortal. Too bad his going to get his ass kicked. (One Shot)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Highlander > Buffy-CenteredSeakFR1312,8207349,12828 Aug 0428 Aug 04Yes

Okay I was told by you readers that Kalas was a big no-no. I am at the moment very confused since I was told that Kalas fitted the role better. It seems he fitted the role like a male giants foot does in a normal human female's high heels.

So its Kronos and Kronos he'll stay. No more changes, no more whatever.

I'm sorry for the confusion I caused with the Kalas and Kronos thing and hope you guys will forgive me.

So simply enjoy this story for what it is, a one shot that has OCCnes and is definitely AU.

Author’s Note: I have to admit that I’ve never seen Highlander, from what I know of it is what I’ve read in Fanfiction. Do you have any idea how hard it is to search for information on this series over the internet? This show hasn’t been on the air in over six years or something. So apologies if I have the characters OOC, it wasn’t my intention but what can I do?

This is a one shot, my take on how the BTVS verse and the Highlander verse came together.

Don’t ask for more on this because I don’t think I can, in fact I’m very positive that I won’t be writing a sequel. This is me just having fun.

Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander nor Buffy the Vampire Slayer, all rights and ownerships belong to their respective owners.

The Art of Ass Kicking.

She jumped, her small slim body sailing past the large gapes between old, rotting buildings with their ugly cracked bricks, broken, dirty windows and hanging gutters. She seemed unfazed by her situation, regardless of the fact that one miss step, one foot on a cracked surface may end up with her body broken on the unyielding ground.

There was a determined look in her eyes, a relentless determination that spoke of power, deadliness and hunger.

She landed onto the other building and rolled, absorbing the power of the jump before fluidly standing up. She froze for a second, her eyes scanning her surroundings, watching for her victim, for that soft sound or thud that told her of which direction he had gone.

And then she heard it, a loud crack and cursing as her victim obviously fell, his weight probably forcing the bricks to crumble beneath him.

She smiled, she could smell his fear, the panic that was most likely coursing through his undead heart and she relished it. She moved lightly, her feet silent and sure as if she knew every potentially dangerous spot on that roof and avoided them. And with inhuman speed she was sailing past one roof to the next.

She was close, she could feel the familiar tingling between her shoulder blades that told of a near by vampire. Her eyes shone with a hunter’s light, adrenalin pumped in her veins and her teeth shone in the moonlight.

And then she was there, she could feel him below her in the dark alley that was blocked on one end.

He was obviously trapped.

Too easy, she thought, slightly bored, and here she assumed he’d be a better challenge. She needed the fight, needed the power and excitement. Her body craved the dance, yearned for the fluid movements knowing that she would win but winning would cost her all she had physically. She knew however, that she would not be getting it today, or tomorrow, or that day after that. Frustration clung to her soul but she was okay with that, she would deal, shove this dark emotion of hers to the very bottom of her gut where it would dwell until her next hunt.

She stepped off the roof and felt gravity latch onto her, forcing her to the hard asphalt ground at a rapid speed, her feet landed lightly, her knees bent absorbing the impact and she stood.

The vampire turned, he could smell her, the blood that ran through her veins, her delicious scent of power and death clung in coils over her soft white skin. But he was not afraid, he had heard the whispers, rumors that she was the slayer of all slayers. No vampire had withstood against her, not the Master, not Angelus Scourge of Europe and believe it or not, a god and the First – a being rumored to have been the representation of all evil and he meant all evil. This he did not believe however, there were many stories of the Slayer but like rumors they were exaggerated stories to scare fledglings into order and obedience.

He tilted his head and smiled at her, a seductive smile, a smile that promised pleasure and power. “Look what the kitty brought to me,” he purred, “A sweet morsel of flesh and beauty.”

She seemed unfazed and in fact appeared insulted. “A sweet morsel of flesh and beauty?” she quoted him incredulously. “What was that? Vampire talk for their drinking problems?”

He blinked confusedly at her.

“Wait.” She said raising up a hand, “You’re way too dumb to understand that, I can so come up with a better quip then you can. How about, you’re trapped mister mousy and the cat has come to play?

A stake suddenly appeared in her hand and with a practiced flick of her wrist, the sharp wooden stick - also known as Mister Pointy - flew with unerring accuracy towards the vampire’s heart. It slammed through cold clammy flesh, its sharp tip snapping past bones and forcing its way towards the large organ of muscle. He blinked in surprise and disbelief at the knowledge that he had been so easily staked before his form burst apart and into a pile of ashes.

“Okay,” she said, dusting her hands after she had picked Mister Pointy off the ground, “That’s it for the day and now its bed time.”

Buffy turned around and walked out of the alleyway opening, determined to make it to her hotel room where there was nice comfy bed waiting for her when she froze. She blinked confusedly around her and it occurred to her that she was very, very lost. In fact she was so lost that she wasn’t sure in which direction she had come from. This was bad, this was very bad, maybe there was some nice stranger willing to give a poor sweet and gorgeous girl some directions?

A voice that sounded remarkable like Xander quipped in the back of her head. Yeah and did you know what happened to little red riding hood? She got eaten by the big bad wolf or, preferably in your case, by Spike.

Shut-up she told herself, deciding to let her feet to do the walking and her mind to-do-the-not-so-thinking, it always led to the bad stuff when she let her mind wander.

It seemed ages but could be minutes before she sensed that she wasn’t alone amongst these abandoned buildings. It wasn’t a vampire or a demon, her slayer/spider senses would have gone crazy. She somehow knew that it was a human that was watching her, which was just creepy, very, very creepy. Best not to provoke the inhabitants she thought and there was no way she was going to ask directions from them, they were most likely going to direct her to an empty warehouse and steal her designer and expensive clothes from her body.

There was not a chance in hell that she was going to allow that to happen.

So here she was, a lost person in the middle of abandoned warehouses land and she had no idea where she was going. Maybe… she should find whoever was watching her and ask them if they could give her directions? And if they didn’t co-operate she could always beat it out of them…

* * *

He watched her, amused at this lost little girl, her blonde hair reflected against the moonlight. Such a pretty little thing, obviously dressed to party with her red leather pants and tight black top. He could smell her nervousness, her confusion and he knew that she could sense him. Sense him watching her.

He would enjoy playing with her, string her out in high emotions of fear, panic and helplessness. He smiled in anticipation.

“Um… whoever is watching me… you wouldn’t know the way back to Raverton Hotel would you?” the girl asked nervously. “Cause you know, you watching me is way creepy.”

He chuckled and stepped out of the shadows, his feet almost silent against the scattered rocks that littered the concrete ground.

He was going to have a lot of fun today.

* * *

The soft crunch of feet moving drew her attention and she whipped around, her eyes widening momentarily at the menacing figure that appeared. He smiled at her as he moved smoothly, his every step spoke of a fighter, the sureness of the way he held his body.

She almost smiled at him but stopped, don’t let the enemy know you just yet.

“What’s a pretty girl like you getting lost in a place like this?” he asked in a soft velvety voice. “Don’t you know that this is a very, very bad place?”

Buffy shrugged, “I was following this real hot guy and he poofed and vanished. It was like he turned into dust and flew with the wind you know?” she said in a highly confused and valley-girl kind of way.

He tilted his head at her and she glimpsed a scar that ran down across his right eye, how interesting – not.

“Well then it would be in my duty as a good Samaritan that I directed you to your hotel of course, that would mean I have to walk you there myself.”

She smiled at him in relief, “Really? Cause I was so lost and now here you are. I’m just happy that I could find someone who could help me.”

He shrugged and raised his hands. “You shouldn’t be out alone you know, you wouldn’t know what type of people that are out there.”

Buffy almost snorted and rolled her eyes but refrained from doing it. She couldn’t wait for him to attack her and then she’d beat the crap out of him and get her directions. “Yeah, its unbelievable what’s out there what with the news and stuff, ” she agreed smiling innocently at him.

“This way pretty lady and I’ll make sure you’re safe,” he almost purred, holding his hand out to his right when the rapid sounds of many footsteps approaching drew their attention.

Buffy guessed that there were two people and from the sounds of their movements, they appeared determined as if they were looking for someone.


The man next to her stiffened and suddenly he had wicked sword in his hand.

Whoa where had the sword come from? She thought, slightly impressed at his sword hiding abilities because there was no way she could have gotten away with that with her tight clothes. He abruptly grabbed her roughly and raised the tip of the sword to her neck.

Okay, she was officially not happy.

And then there were two men standing in front of her and they had… swords? Why was she surprised? Cause she happened to like swords and sometimes or maybe often she usually carried a sword for slaying.

So why was it that normal humans carrying a sword was weird? Um… maybe because they weren’t normal?

Oh wow Buffy and how did you discover that? The voice that sounded like Xander remarked sarcastically in her mind. Before or after the swords started appearing?

Shut-up she told her self and made a mental note to start seeing the doctor about Xander like voices popping up in her head.

“Let the girl go, Kronos.” The shorter man said, his dark eyes hard and cold.

“And if I don’t? What will you do Methos?” The guy holding her taunted which she officially duped as Kronos cause hey, that’s the guy’s name.

“Just let the girl go Kronos, she’s got nothing to do with this.” The tall and hot guy with the sexy Scottish accent spoke.

“MacLeod does it look like I care? I’ve killed hundreds, thousands even and I’m certainly not going to let this one get away. She would make a very tasty morsel for my bed, don’t you think?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, puh-lease… that was so old. Couldn’t any bad or evil guys come up with some new and interesting lines here?

And her? In his bed? Can she say ewww?

* * *

The man called Methos was intrigued and not a little surprised at the girl that Kronos was holding hostage. There seemed to be little fear in her eyes, in fact she seemed highly bored by the whole thing. He had found in the past five thousand years of his life that people (or girls for this instance), usually ended up screaming, crying or frozen in wide eyed fear when it came to having a sword up against their throat.

As if noticing his intent look upon her, she smiled at him and wiggled her fingers at him in greeting. His eyebrow shot up and his lips almost twitched in amusement. Well this was certainly interesting.

“Kronos, hate to disappoint you but… your hostage appears to be bored. Are you losing your touch?”

A startled look appeared on his face. “What?” And his sword inched down a little.

It appeared that that was all the girl needed before her hand clamped down on Kronos’s wrist and snapped it in half forcing him to drop the sword. With a slight bend of the knee she twisted her body around and raised her fist in an upper-cut and slammed it into his jaw, a loud crack sounded signaling of a broken jaw as his feet left the ground and his body was raised into the air. Thud! His body crumbled to the ground and skidded across the concrete.

There was a moment of silence as they both absorbed the scene.

It seems Kronos had picked on the wrong kind of girl. Did he mention how he loved modern women? They certainly made a change from the usual damsels in distress.

The girl dusted her hands and flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder before her eyes landed on the sword that was lying on the ground.

A grin grew across her lips, “Oh goody! A sword!” She exclaimed slowly picking up the sword and looking at it with a child like curiosity.

“I think you should put that down, you might cut yourself.” Duncan warned the girl.

She blinked at him and then a slow smile grew on her lips. He knew for a fact that the girl wouldn’t be able to wield a broadsword properly, not with the heavy weight that the sword carried.

“You should listen to MacLeod here, a girl your size wouldn’t be able to handle that type of weight.” He remarked casually as if he was almost daring her to pick it up further and give it a go.

She tilted her head at him, “Like this?” And suddenly the broadsword was flying as it sang in the air and CLASH! It slammed into another sword.

He blinked and found that the other sword was attached to Kronos, it seemed he had recovered from the girl’s blows and he was pissed as hell.

Duncan swore and he could feel his heart almost burst from his chest. But a niggling thought played in his mind, how had the girl known that Kronos was behind her and how had she managed to lift such a heavy sword?

And then she pivoted onto one foot and done a side kick that was planted firmly onto Kronos's chest sending him flying (yet again) and slamming into a brick wall.

Methos or currently known as Adam Pierson felt the overwhelming need to drop his mouth opened and let the flies fly in. Well the girl was certainly impressive but he knew for a fact that that wouldn’t keep Kronos down for long - after all he was an immortal.

She turned to him and frowned, “His not going to get up again is he?”

Both him and Duncan nodded their heads in a definite yes.


Suddenly a loud ringing of a cell phone garnered their attention and the girl smacked her self in the head. “Why didn’t I think of that?” she muttered, though he was pretty sure that she wasn’t addressing them.

She pulled out the phone and answered it. “Hello?”

“What?” she shreiked and then paused, listening to the answer, “Okay I’ll be there, just hold on for a second I have to do something,” she turned to them and smiled, shrugging. “I have to go now, you know family emergency? That kind of thing? You wouldn’t mind if I took the sword with me, would you? Cause you know? One less sword to deal with… and I’m sure you can handle that guy over there.” She said waving the sword in Kronos’s direction and backing away from them and then she was turning a corner and was gone - her last words still echoing in the air.

“So which direction was it again? And Wills, do you know how to hide a couple of swords on your person? Cause it would sure come in handy with the ass kicking…”


The End

You have reached the end of "The Art of Ass Kicking". This story is complete.

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking