Chapter Three - June 2014 (seven weeks later)
the dogs of war don't negotiate
the dogs of war won't capitulate
they will take and you will give
and you must die so they may live
"I cannot believe those words just left your mouth."
"Believe it, my friend."
"You literally leave nothing to the imagination!"
Barney made a face. "Uh... yeah. Duh. Look who you're talking to."
Marshall Eriksen dropped his palm on their table, making a face at Ted as he slid into the booth with two drinks. "Ted, you're with me on this. Princess Leia was totally hotter in A New Hope than Return of the Jedi."
"Whoa," Ted said, sliding the slender glass of wine to Buffy who smiled at him. He grinned back before turning to Marshall. "Which outfits are we talking about, the braless silky white dress or the gold-jeweled Jabba bikini?"
"Dude," Marshall said patiently. "There's no question in anyone's mind... well, except for Barney's, obviously... that she was hotter braless."
"I don't know, I was kinda partial to her in Return of the Jedi," Lily piped in and Marshall shot her an incredulous look.
"What? Baby, come on."
"What? It was all the sparklies against Jabba's big ol' lizard body." Lily grinned. "It was pretty."
"Okay, well, we're not talking about pretty, we're talking about bras."
Buffy shook her head, taking a sip of her wine, her eyes flying over the crowd in the bar. It was full for a Tuesday night. The only downside was that they wouldn't get the free platter of old hot wings at the end of the night, but it did always making everything more interesting when it came to anything Barney-related. They had only been there for an hour and he had already gotten two numbers - one of which turned out to be a pastrami shop near Times Square - and shot down three times.
"An important distinction, Aldrin, get it together," Barney piped in before smiling. "Although the jewels were pretty."
"Why is it always about the bra?" Robin mused. "You know they are designed as support systems, not male ogling tools."
"A fine point," Barney responded, lifting a finger for emphasis, his voice on the verge of some epiphany that probably had no basis in logic.
Buffy's eyes danced over to the bar near the front door as someone else joined the fray from the chilly spring weather outside when she spotted a familiar face.
Her heart stopped cold in its tracks, the noises of the bar and the conversation around her fading into white noise as she felt the blood leak from her face. She watched Carl nodding his head in time with what he was saying before they slapped hands together and he left a few bills in his place. She watched him as he glanced to his left, like he was waiting for someone… Then those eyes were drilling right into hers like they had that night… that night that was supposed to be buried and dead in the Did Not Exist graveyard in her head.
The look lasted a split second before he turned away. Buffy felt the rush of cold air as someone else left the bar. She watched him set down his empty glass, nodding to Carl again like they knew each other or some crazy crap before leaving the bar without a backward glance.
The blood that had been leeched from her face came back in a hot rush and her cheeks burned as she closed her eyes, bowing her head. A thousand knives were stabbing at her chest as she felt the pull in her body to get up and follow him. Follow him where exactly? And say what?
'Hey, what's up, why you here, are you following me and how the hell do you know about vampires? Not that I care or anything but it seems kind of important since you killed a bunch and saved my life or whatever and now you're randomly popping up like some mysterious cool guy who…'
"I'll be right back," Buffy mumbled, shoving her purse to the ground and getting up. She didn't hear if anyone responded or acknowledged her as she headed blindly to the exit, her eyes glued to the muddy glass at the front of the bar, seeing nothing. Buffy pushed through the door, her heels slapping against the stairs as she raced up to the street and looked around.
For a split second, she felt those knives in her chest turn lethal-er when she realized he was gone until she saw a shadow in the alley across the street.
Buffy didn't think twice as she followed, stepping into the light traffic, ignoring the honking horn of a car speeding by. She didn't see the couple on the other side, her shoulder slamming into theirs and curse words trailing behind her as she stepped into the alley.
A vice grip of uncertainty closed around her chest and she paused, her breathing picking up. It was dark and a splash of images tackled her mind from the night when she had been attacked. Her shoulder ached where the one had yanked her back and she felt the deep burn of dread as she remembered them scratching at her thighs, pulling her shirt down, exposing her.
The notion of a Slayer being afraid of the dark was silly, especially one who used to stroll right in and say, "Hey, what's with the shadow of doom look going on here, haven't you heard a few accent lamps can change the entire mood of a room?"
That didn't make the terror at the thought of facing that darkness again after so many years any less real…
Buffy's arms came up to protect herself against the shadows in her mind when the sound of flesh hitting flesh pulled her back to the present and she saw them just as a dark hulk came stumbling towards her.
Her instinctual reaction was much quicker this time. She sidestepped the human being falling back, letting him fall to the ground with a loud exhale of pain and she stepped up as the vampire came roaring through the darkness, his lips pulled back to show off his shiny canines. She grabbed the lapels of his shirt, using his momentum and turning to throw him against the brick wall.
A rush of exhilaration flooded her system as the vamp flew through the air, an easy six feet, and slammed head first into the building. Everything was moving in the familiar slow motion of an adrenaline rush as the sickening crunch of the vampire's cranium creaking under the assault registered before his body hit the ground like wet meat.
Buffy didn't feel her lungs burning from breathing too fast or the shaking in her arms from the adrenaline; instead she felt the pull of intuition telling her to move and she was already turning as the mystery man behind her reached to grab her. He found her forearm, yanking her. Buffy reeled with the move, pulling her arm back to punch him in the face but he jerked back just in time.
The next moment was a blur as Buffy moved in to attack him again.
She didn't know what it was or why she really wanted to hit him and she didn't care. Her body sang with the art of the kill again as she moved, knowing only that she felt something threatening in this alleyway. She didn't care that it wasn't from the man she was currently trying to take down and that it was the vampire gaining consciousness behind her.
The mystery man represented something - something she had tried for a long time to let go of. The faux threat he had posed in her mind ever since the night she had almost died - since the night everything that had been perfect had blown up in tiny life smithereens - burst to the top of her list of priorities and all she cared about was making him hurt.
Another one of those times where, now that I'm thinking about it, I was more mad that he had brought the supernatural world back to my doorstep. That my world had somehow been tainted after that night, even though it was the vampires and not him. That he had brought something dark back into my world of bright and shiny things…
Really, who the hell did he think he was?
He was every shade of grey ever and my black and white world was getting charcoaled to death.
Buffy caught his chin with her knuckles as he grabbed her around the waist to subdue her. She heard him yelling something at her but she didn't pause. Grabbing his jacket for leverage, Buffy spun him away where he stumbled against an empty doorway. Buffy stalked after him, ready to grab him and swing him around to join the vampire still moaning on the ground behind them when he charged her.
His body was like a brick wall on its own as he slammed into her, knocking the air out of her lungs and they landed in a tangle of limbs on the ground. He was growling something as she struggled underneath him. She whipped her arms out, catching his jaw again before his fist found her wrist and held it down as she jerked her body against his to buck him off.
"Knock it off!" he snapped but she didn't listen. He was here to ruin things. That was the only explanation. He was bringing the darkness back into her life and she wanted nothing to do with. Ever again. Never… "Hey!"
"Get off!" Buffy snarled. She shoved her hands against his chest and he rocketed off of her, his back hitting the ground with a rush as she rolled back to her feet. He was moving too, getting to his feet quickly although she could see the strain in his face. Good. Pain was good. "Who are you?"
"Get the hell down, lady," he bit out, moving to shove her to the side but she stepped in his path, not realizing she was indirectly protecting the vampire starting to come back to life behind her.
"No-" He didn't give her a second. One minute she was ready to grab his jacket and bowl him over again when he grabbed her arms and tried to swing her away. She spun with it, grabbing his jacket and ramming her palm into his nose. A dam broke and she felt the hot blood rushing into her hand as he cursed loudly over the sound of his nose cracking, letting her go.
Buffy anticipated him spinning away from her, an instinctual move to protect his face from further damage, but he once again surprised her. Instead of doing the normal thing, his fist slammed into her temple.
Fireworks erupted in her eyes and her ankles gave as she slumped against him. She felt him holding her up, his arms like bands of strength keeping her from falling. She tried to push past the irresistible urge to lie down and it turned into a strange out-of-body experience as he struggled to set her down without dropping her.
And then he cursed, letting her slip to the ground. The jolt pushed her back into reality. He spun away and she felt the loose gravel on the concrete kick into her face from his boot as he faced the vampire.
And like the snap of a rubber band of reality, James Dean didn't matter anymore.
Vampire. Vampire. Vampire.
The sensation of a butcher's knife stabbing her skull from his temple hit was overwhelming as she tried to roll to her feet, tried to find the target her body knew was right there. Ignoring the pain, Buffy's eyes snapped open. She heard her mystery man and the vampire trading blows, grunts of pain and whooshes of breath bouncing off the brick. Her senses were in a tizzy as she remembered the vampire…
Rolling to her hands and knees, Buffy grabbed onto the closest thing to help her find her feet. Something that happened to have a rotted wooden pallet sitting on top of it. Buffy rammed her fist into the pallet, breaking off the corner. Another hit got her a piece sharp enough to do what she needed.
Buffy turned in time to see the vamp shoving her guy away. Instead of face-planting into the wall, he used it to ricochet himself off and turn and slam his fist into the vampire's face, which sent him tripping over his feet and sending him straight towards her.
Buffy grabbed the vampire's shoulder, stopping his momentum abruptly. She felt her balance give for a split second before she found her center; she felt the chill of the night warring with the faux heat of the vampire's breath as he snapped at her and Buffy shoved the wood into his chest.
He burst into dust with a loud pop. She took a deep breath as his body disintegrated, her hand squeezing the stake until she felt a splinter from the crappy wood carve a place in her palm… when the guy she had originally been chasing got right in her face.
"What the hell was that?" he snapped, yanking the wood from her hand and throwing it down the alley.
Buffy shook her head, staring at him. Her thoughts were still doing a weird tribal dance on a trampoline from the shot he had landed on her temple but she was aware enough to realize he wasn't exactly being grateful.
"What the hell was what?" she asked. "I just saved you from that vampire turning your head into a party hat."
He opened his mouth to reply before snapping it shut, shaking his head at her in disbelief. He wiped his face with his jacket sleeve, the same leather jacket he had been wearing from the other night. It didn't do much but smear blood all over his face.
"No, hey, I have a better question," Buffy snapped, the anger towards him coming back and the need to understand what the hell he was doing burned hot in the spot where he had punched her. The urge to start hitting him again blazed inside her, blowing through the fog. "How about why the hell are you following me?"
"What?"
"Showing up at where I get my coffee and now you're at my house? What's next, pulp or no pulp in my orange juice? How many calories were in my muffin this morning?"
"Whoa, hold on a minute there, sister," he said gruffly, his voice getting darker as he dropped his bloody hand to stare at her. "You think I'm following you?"
"If the black hat fits."
"That's rich," he snorted as he yanked a handkerchief from his back pocket. The same one that he had pressed to her wounds that night. Buffy didn't like the tight feeling in her stomach as she watched him wipe up the blood, like she should just shut her mouth or something. Like she was wrong. She swallowed, pushing the feeling down as he pointed in the direction of MacLaren's. "Not that it's any of your goddamn business but I was getting a beer. And doing a friend a favor since you're obviously slacking around here."
"Excuse me?"
"Vampire, blondie," he snapped, waving at the dust pile between them. "That thing you just staked? Or don't they teach Slayers that kinda thing anymore?" The world stopped spinning and Buffy felt her lungs seize. Everything organ-related inside her suddenly dropped like she was falling. He knew what she was. "And that coffee bar was a coincidence. I don't have any damn reason to be following you, princess."
"What did you say?" she asked, breathless.
He glared at her. "It was a coincidence." He mopped at his face again, checking his nose with the other hand as he shook his head. "And thanks for the unneeded kill, that was awesome. I didn't ask for your help and you sure as hell didn't do me any favors." He shook the bloody cloth out as he continued on, "Kind of wanted that one alive, but who the hell cares, right?"
"No…" she said. She stared at him. "You said… you said Slayer."
He didn't miss a beat. He shoved his handkerchief back into his pocket, sniffling up the rest of the blood. The sound was wet and gunky and it made her stomach turn.
He gestured at her, his voice mocking, "If the freakishly skinny pants fit."
"How…" Buffy shook her head, the alleyway starting to spin. How had something as simple as a vampire attack turned into something so much more… what? Dangerous? Terrifying? Breathing was starting to get hard again as Buffy closed her eyes. "How do you know-"
"Hey," he said, his voice sharp. He held up both hands with an empty smile but the anger was vivid underneath the happy sheen. "Whatever. Vamp dead, unneeded favor done. How about next time you pick up some of the slack so I don't have to come around here anymore with your freaky stalker accusations, huh? Sounds good to me."
He didn't wait for a reply. He turned away, mumbling something under his breath as he felt his nose again and Buffy stood still for a second, ignoring the dick way he had just talked to her.
He knew what she was. He knew. How the hell did he know what she was? A thousand scenarios were spinning through her mind like butterflies on crack. Was he stalking her because she was a Slayer? He could say no all he wanted but that didn't mean he wasn't actually there for her. Was the vampire a diversion? Was it a reason to draw her out? Was there someone bigger and badder behind this random guy? It wouldn't be the first time some big baddy used the darker side of humanity for its evil bidding.
How did he know where to find her? How did he know anything about her at all?
"Hey!" she yelled, running after him. He didn't stop and she saw him shaking his head as he neared the other end of the alley. She grabbed his shoulder, stopping him roughly and he practically snarled as she yanked him back into the darkness. "I don't think so, buddy. How about you explain what the hell is going on. You appear out of nowhere and you know what I am and I'm supposed to be okay with you prancing in and out like this?"
"Are you serious?"
"What's the deal, huh?" she continued, her voice acidic. She crossed her arms. "Who's pulling the strings? I'm right here, you might as well get whatever the hell you have planned out of the way so I can get back to my life." He just stared at her like she was the stupid one, his mouth gaped as he processed her words and Buffy rolled her eyes. "Wow, cut you to the quick so soon. You really thought I'd buy this random Joe-schmoe business?"
"Wow," was all he said. His shoulders jerked with a silent chuckle as he turned to walk back towards MacLaren's. Buffy grabbed him again but he reacted this time. Buffy didn't expect him to move so quickly as he spun into her grip, grabbing her arm and yanking her against his chest, curling her arm around her back and trapping her other between them.
"Hey, let go of me!"
"Stop hitting me," he growled, abruptly letting her go and Buffy stumbled back. He glared at her and she glared back. "I save your ass and this is the shit I'm getting. You are one screwed chick, you know that?"
"I didn't ask for your help that night, or don't you remember showing up out of the random blue? If that was supposed to placate me having you around every other day, try again, buddy." The anger filling her felt good. It felt warm and familiar.
"What..." He laughed incredulously. "Are you… Are you crazy?"
"Me?"
"How happy would you be with those bloodsuckers using your thigh bones to clean out their teeth, huh?" he asked, his voice almost smug and Buffy felt her heart leap into her throat as he continued, stalking towards her now. She backed away as his eyes darkened and focused on her with frightening intensity and for a moment she was just a girl, in an alley with a scary guy coming at her. "I know I walked in on a Slayer about to die that night, getting her ass handed to her because she didn't know which end of the stupid stick she was holding."
Buffy gritted her teeth, her stomach dropping again at that word. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you're the one who got herself trapped in a vamp sandwich. Not me."
"Then what the hell are you doing here?" she asked, her voice rough. She felt the ball of emotions roiling inside and climbing up her gullet.
"I was here because a vamp was making this street its own personal buffet line," he said, taking measured steps closer, towards her. "You're the one who came tearing out here like a bat out of hell. I was fine leaving things the way they were. You're acting like I dragged your ass out here, like I threw it down that alley in the first place. A guy wants a beer and suddenly I'm creeping up your ass for your bra size when in reality…" He threw his arms out. "I just wanted a goddamn beer."
Buffy felt like throwing up at the stomach acid rollercoaster ripping through her chest, the feeling that… she didn't even know - it was something ominous, something dark and dank and heavy and… This man was trouble and seeing him in her bar? In her place, the one place where the world he clearly represented was so not welcome? Where death and gruesome things were a different lifetime, a different place, everything different and so not what he life was about now…
Buffy closed her eyes. Her thoughts and emotions were moving too fast to focus on - she went from confused to angry to freaking out to wanting to run away to wanting to fight…
He didn't stop, coming closer and she took a step back in reaction. "Don't come at me because your head lives in your ass. Your life is your life. You don't want to help people? That's your gig, and definitely not my friggin' problem. So hop back into your little Stepford life in there and stay the hell out of my way. And while you're at it, avoid the stalker accusations, sweetheart. It's pathetic."
Buffy scoffed, shaking her head in numb amazement. Was this happening?
He made a mocking face in return before narrowing his eyes. "Let's try this again. I'm gonna go that way," he said, pointing towards the end of the alley before pointing towards MacLaren's, "and you go that way." And then he was off.
Buffy stood in the alley, her arms dangling uselessly at her sides. She crossed her arms, her lungs feeling like they were full of quicksand as she watched him walk away from her and she felt the angry sting in her nails from where she was digging them into her forearm. He reached the mouth of the alley, never once bothering to look back to make sure she wasn't chasing him down, when she said, "Stay away from me!"
"I was never freaking near you," he replied, his voice sharp as it echoed against the craggy brick walls back to her.
And then he was gone.
I stood there for about fifteen minutes, just staring at the wall, trying to put things in order. But nothing was going in order. I eventually headed back to MacLaren's, ready to put it all back inside the shiny new box in my head labeled 'No.'
But not before picking up the nearest trash bag and throwing it against the wall… where it promptly burst open and covered me in rotted fruit.
Thanks, universe.
And how does the universe repay me?
It was giftwrapped and hand-delivered to me two nights later.
