Heroes
Part 6
Buffy wasn't sure if the pawn shop owner understood the insult, but he definitely realized he was being insulted. He let out a snarl of rage and reached below his counter for what Buffy knew was a gun even before she spotted the sawed-off barrel of a twelve gauge.
Brooklyn ducked, tucked, and rolled out of sight. Buffy moved, reacting with sheer reflex. She nailed the guy in the hand in a wild kick over the top of the counter. A shot went wild, blowing out a couple tiles of the suspended ceiling. The gun clattered on the floor. She launched herself over the counter, grabbed him by the shirt, and slammed him into the wall. "That wasn't very polite."
"Monster lover!" He spat at her.
"Truer than you know!" Buffy snarled into his face. "Rufus. Where is he?"
"I don't know no Rufus!" the man protested.
"I'd start talking," Brooklyn said. He strolled back through the doorway. "She scares even me, you know."
His tone was conversational. Buffy caught the cue, and shook the pawn shop owner hard, putting some Slayer strength into it. "That's right. I can scare a gargoyle. Better talk!"
He talked. "Try Lenny's Den of Weapons! Two blocks south of here! Rufus is his cousin!"
"If you're lying to me, we'll ..."
"Be back! I know, I know!" The man agreed.
As they were exiting, Buffy heard him mutter, "Usually the gargoyle plays the bad cop ..."
Brooklyn laughed, openly, beaked head thrown back, as they strolled up the street. His bare feet crunched in the snow. Her sneakers were soaked by it; she curled her toes against the cold and wished for her boots, which were in her luggage and presumably in LA. When he had control of himself, he said with a snicker still in his voice, "He's right, you know. Usually the gargoyle plays the bad cop."
Buffy summoned her dignity and reminded him, "Well, you said you wanted to be good cop!"
"I didn't think you'd take me seriously! You're one scary chick, you know that?" But he was grinning at her. "That was a hell of a move. Owen said Slayers have super-human reflexes but I'm not sure I could top that."
"We'll have to spar a bit, find out. I haven't had a sparring partner who could challenge me in, oh ..." Six months, since Spike died. "... in awhile. That's if I have time before I go back to LA. But sparring would be a good thing. A real good thing. Need to keep my sparring skills up and everything."
"Sounds fun." He struck a mock-martial-arts pose in front of her, then flexed his biceps.
Was he flirting with her? Nahhh. On the other hand, she was babbling.
Lenny's Den of Weapons was open, which was not surprising, considering the presumed clientele. Besides, it got dark early this time of year. It was barely seven. There was also a hammer-insignia pasted on the door, but Brooklyn ignored it and strolled right in after a muttered, "My turn to be bad cop," at Buffy.
The proprietor looked up, then did a double take as Brooklyn approached the counter. Buffy had not gotten a very good look at Rufus during the fight; the alley had been dark. Still, she thought the man behind the counter was a relative of Rufus -- or at least of Rufus' host body.
Brooklyn muttered softly at her, "Vampire."
She would not have needed the warning. The cousin wasn't breathing. She'd watched for a breath as soon as she entered the place, and hadn't seen one yet. The first thing many vampires did when they woke was to Sire their family members -- she'd once had to dust not only a woman, but the woman's children as well, and their grandmother and their babysitter. The boyfriend had been the woman's Sire, starting the whole chain of events.
Spike had Sired his own mother.
"No gargoyles allowed," the vampire snapped. "You'll have to go elsewhere!"
Buffy planted her hands on the counter and leaned over it. "How about a Slayer?"
The vampire grinned and vamped out all in one motion. "Slayers are allowed. They're tasty."
"Buffy, I thought we agreed I would be the bad cop," Brooklyn sighed. He leaned against the wall, arms folded, wings settled calmly around his shoulders, in an air of resigned watching.
"Buffy? Oh, shit!" The vampire had mistaken Buffy for a new slayer. He recoiled.
"No need," Buffy said, in a pleasant voice. She vaulted one-handed over the counter, and snagged the vampire by his wrist when he tried to run. Efficiently, she rammed him up against the wall and pressed the point of her wooden spike against his spine, threatening his heart from the back. "Start talking!"
"You're going to dust me anyway! Why should I?" The vampire said, sullenly.
He had a point. Buffy glanced at Brooklyn, wondering if he was ruthless enough for this part. Yeah, probably. He hadn't survived for ten years as a nonhuman in a big city without developing a bit of cold bloodedness. As she watched, Brooklyn picked up a sword from a rack beside the counter and idly examined the blade. He looked far more fascinated by the steel than by her discussion with the vampire.
She wrenched the vampire's arm up high behind his back. "Tell you what. I will let you go, because finding Rufus is a heck of a lot more important than one single, solitary vampire."
"You will?" there was hope in the vampire's voice.
"I will. I swear. I will not touch you if you tell me where we can find Rufus."
"There's a bar, downtown ..."
He gave stammered directions.
Buffy almost felt guilty when she released him. The vampire ran for the door -- and Brooklyn, who had made no such promise, swung hard and clean and flat with the sword, at shoulder height, as the creature tried to duck past them. The vampire exploded into two distinctly separate clouds of dust.
"See?" Buffy said. "I let you play badder cop."
Brooklyn gently set the sword back on the rack and frowned at the pile of vampire dust at his feet. He didn't look happy. "I hate killing them like that. Vampires are so nasty that I can't let them live ... but I always wonder if there's not one out there that might be good. And what if I kill him by mistake? Demons are creatures of free will just like us. What if there was one vampire who chose a path of good, and I killed him. That would be wrong."
Buffy frowned too. What if Spike's not the only vampire who chose to be good? Brooklyn's right. They can't all be evil. Lorne's another example of that -- most of the time, his species is particularly ruthless. But he wouldn't hurt a fly. There's an exception to every rule. Undead things aren't always evil. Some demons are good.
Too complicated. I just want to hit things.
She shook her head. "I'm sure he was just another evil vampire, Brooklyn. Look at this place. Does this look like the home of Mother Theresa the Vampire?"'
She gestured around the store, which had the most amazing assortment of knives, swords, axes, crossbows, and assorted sharp implements, plus a nice rack of skin magazines behind the counter.
"No," Brooklyn said. "I'm just saying that I don't like rushing to judgment like that."
Buffy clapped him on the shoulder, comfortingly, and squeezed those rock hard muscles. "Let's go find that bar. And -- don't feel bad -- I've slain a few thousand vampires. I've only ever known one who chose to be good without a soul being forced upon him. And he was a Big Bad before that. I tried to slay Spike a number of times; he just managed to get away every time. Had I slain him before ... before ... well, I wouldn't have regretted it."
And the world would have been lost to Glory and the First. He was instrumental in saving the world at least twice, once before he got that soul of his. Could I have succeeded without him at my side? Maybe. Maybe not.
She suspected that Brooklyn didn't want to hear that. She was rather surprised, given his toothy and fanged appearance, but it seemed that he wasn't a natural born killer. He had the reflexes -- he hadn't hesitated when the opportunity presented itself -- and he had the hero's logic, the, "kill it for the greater good" mentality. But he would regret, every time.
"You did the right thing," she said, as she stepped over the vampire dust. "It was what I expected you to do. If you'd let him go, he would warn Rufus, probably."
"I know," he said. He sighed and ran both clawed hands through his white mane of hair. "Let's go find Rufus. He's made enough trouble that I won't mind killing him."
* * * * *
"Game plan?" Brooklyn asked. They both stood in the shadows across the street from a rather seedy looking bar.
"Bouncer won't let us in the bar," Buffy predicted. The bouncer was not human. He appeared human, but Brooklyn said he didn't smell human. They were downwind, something she normally would not have thought of -- but Brooklyn had.
Brooklyn glanced at his watch. Buffy did a double take at that, but why shouldn't a gargoyle wear a watch? Brooklyn's was a fairly nice one, too, matching the mirrored sunglasses. If he really turned to stone at dawn, she supposed it could be a lifesaver to know what time it was. He suggested, "It's almost time for the bars to close. They'll probably kick him out in about thirty minutes. Tell you what -- you confront him, and I nail him from behind when you've got him good and distracted."
"Okay." Buffy said. It was a simple plan, but sounded effective enough. Rufus would undoubtedly believe her to be alone -- unless the pawn shop owner had warned him, and she doubted the guy had the balls to do so -- and she would not be surprised to find out that Brooklyn was her equal in a fight. The two of them could certainly take him out with the element of surprise on their side.
Rufus actually left a few minutes before closing. He wasn't obviously drunk. He did have two women on his arms.
"Buffy, those are both vampire chicks," Brooklyn said, low and worried. "You think he turned them?"
"Could be," Buffy said. "Or not."
"Maybe we should get some help," Brooklyn said. "I can take out one vampire by myself, but three?"
"There's just three of them," Buffy said, disbelievingly. "I don't call for help unless there's a dozen or more."
"Rufus is a master vampire," Brooklyn said, warily.
"So?" Buffy shrugged. She stepped out into the street and ran across it.
Rufus stopped short when he saw her, and shrugged the women off his arms. "You again!"
"I want my books back," Buffy said. "Want to fight me over it or just give 'em back?"
"Already sold," he said. His tone was truthful. "Sorry little Slayer. You're out of luck. If you'd caught me a few hours ago, maybe we could have struck a deal."
"I don't deal with vampires," she said, just as Brooklyn came screaming out of the sky with a large stick clutched in both hands. He hit Rufus with stunning force. The stick pierced the vampire's shoulder, knocked him flat, and pinned him to the ground.
The two female vampires scattered. Brooklyn hit the ground rolling, scrambled up onto all fours, and bounded off after one, leaving Rufus' fate in her hands.
She bent over him. He was moaning -- moaning the name of the Golden Goose Pawn Shop.
The Golden Goose was, ironically, their first stop.
Buffy hesitated a long moment. Here was a vampire who'd slain two Slayers, who was her equal fighting fairly hand to hand, and who had clearly been around for awhile. Brooklyn's words, Maybe they're not all evil, came back to her.
Luv, kill him. Had you killed me the first time we fought, there's several dozen people who'd be alive today. She could hear Spike's accent, and almost sense his presence. Was it her imagination or was he guiding her in this?
She gritted her teeth and drove her stake home. Rufus dusted in a puff of ashes.
* * * * *
"That's it?" Brooklyn stared at the books curiously. They were back in her hotel room -- it was late enough (or maybe early enough) that nobody had noticed them enter.
"Uh-huh," Buffy said. There were three of them. One was labeled, "Watchers" and another was labeled, "Friends, Slayers, and Allies." A third book had a fold-out map and the title of, "Current Locations and Directions."
The second book had both yellow pages and white pages, so to speak: a listing by name and a listing by occupation. "Here, look. My friend Angel works for Wolfram and Hart. Under Lawyers, like this ..."
She thumbed through the book until she found Lawyers, in the back. Wolfram and Hart had a large listing. "See? All these people are friends. The listings update themselves, that's what makes it so dangerous. If this book fell into the wrong hands ..."
She traced her finger down the list of people that the Watchers had put in the book. There was Angel and Wesley, Fred and Gunn, Lorne and ....
A cold thrill ran up her spine. The book only listed people who were alive, or at least, err, moving. It was self updating and self correcting.
Wolfram and Hart had a listing for William "Spike" the Bloody.
The receptionist had shouted, "Spike! Leave that copy machine alone!"
"You okay?" Brooklyn asked, in concern. She looked up to meet his brown eyes.
"Uh, yeah. I just ... I didn't know a friend was working there. We lost touch."
Because I thought he was dead. Because he didn't tell me he was alive.
Spike. Spike was alive.
She hugged the book to her chest.
"Old friend, huh?" Brooklyn's tone of voice left no doubt that he knew exactly what sort of 'friend' this was. It must have been obvious on her face. Delight and anger all mixed together.
"Huh? Yeah. Guess I'll have to look him up when I get there," she said.
"Yeah. Guess you will," Brooklyn ran a hand over his hair. She couldn't tell what he was thinking; his sunglasses hid his expression and the beak was hard to read if he wasn't openly grinning. "Well, glad you got your books back. This was fun, really. Look me up if you're back in town."
He walked to the window, waved once, and dropped out of sight over the sill. She shut the window after him, then stared outside.
Brooklyn's silhouette was visible for a moment against the city lights before the snow swallowed him. She watched for a minute longer, and then did a double take when another figure -- not a gargoyle -- leaped from one rooftop to the next with the agility of a chimpanzee. When she continued to watch, she saw a third figure swing from what looked like a rope, crossing from one building to an opposing fire escape.
Somebody flew by on a hovercraft.
When the hominid turtles briefly appeared on the street below, she decided it was time to shut the window and go to bed. New York City had enough heroes. It didn't need her.