A Bordertown Romance
(working title)
This is a Borderlands fanfic. For the uninitiated, the Borderlands series is about the return of Faerie to the Human world, in, of all places, SoHo. The series was created by Terri Windling and Mark Alan Arnold and consists so far of four anthologies and three novels by numerous different authors. Screaming Lord Neville and Wolfboy also belong to them.
It was a grey and dreary day, but Marco didn't care. Business was good and he had some money for once. Love life was still non-existent, but that was okay. He had a place to stay, and a brand new copy of Stick Wizard he was looking forward to reading. Things were looking up. As he walked down Ho Street he was so busy counting his blessings that he almost missed her. A girl, dressed in faded jeans and a black leather jacket, all of it several sizes too big, stood out the front of the Café Cubana, nervously reading the menu. Nice body, what he could see of it under all those baggy clothes. And that hair, really raven black and so beautifully glossy. Yep, things were definitely looking up.
"Hey" he said to her, "trying to decide between the tea and the tea? Personally I'd recommend the tea."
She smiled shyly.
"I have no money…" Her accent was heavy, but comprehensible. Something European.
"Thought so. Got something to trade?"
"Trade?"
"Yeah. Food, clothing, accessories…"
The girl looked bewildered.
"Never mind, why don't you let me shout you"
The girl hesitated.
"Come on, you look like you could use a hot cup of tea. And a good meal. I'm Marco, by the way."
"I am Michela". She smiled and followed him inside.
Screaming Lord Neville, the Café Cubana's proprietor, was resplendent in a gown of iridescent purple satin. As Marco greeted him, Neville eyed the girl's outfit critically.
"Be kind, Neville, Michela is new to Bordertown".
"A newcomer! How nice!" Neville gushed.
"And would you like, you lady?"
"Tea please" Michela replied, nervously.
"A pot of House Special blend for two, and two nutmeg tarts please Neville".
"Certainly darling".
They took a table by the window.
"How did you know I was new?" Michela asked, a little bolder now.
"Just a guess. Newcomers have a certain look about them. When you've lived here a while, you'll recognise it too. Listen, you have such a pretty accent. I've been dying to ask- where are you from?"
"Russia" Michela replied, lowering her pretty eyes.
"Yeah? I know a Russian guy, name of Dimitri. He's always on about how wonderful the old country is, compared with here. I always wondered why he left. The way he describes it it's the best place on Earth".
"I came here to get away".
Marco shrugged. "Most people do."
Suddenly the girl shrank back into her chair, terrified. Marco spun around, following her gaze.
A terrible apparition had appeared in the doorway. It was a creature the size of a tall human, but where a human's head should have been was thickly furred muzzle, with a lolling tongue and sharp white fangs. A werewolf with blazing yellow eyes which were staring straight at Marco and the girl. A werewolf in black jeans and a Naked Lunch t-shirt.
"Byess!" the girl hissed, still cowering.
"It's okay Michela, it's just Wolfboy, he won't hurt you." He waved to the monster, who sauntered over to the counter to order. The girl watched warily until Wolfboy took a table on the other side of the café.
"Are there many such monsters in Bordertown?" she asked finally.
"Just the one that I know of. There might be others beyond the border, but since humans can't cross it, I guess you and I will never know".
"Good", said the girl, with a shudder.
"We have stories of such things in Russia, but I never thought I would see one".
"That's B-town for you. Full of surprises."
"Wolfboy's nice enough, although he is competition. We both do trips out to the Nevernever, collecting things, exploring… It's how I got my name- Marco. It's short for Marco Polo."
The conversation was interrupted again by the arrival of their order.
"One pot of Earl Grey, two nutmeg tarts, and a little extra something for our special guest" said CC, the voluptuous, but sadly taken, young waitress. She put a plate of small pastries in front of Michela.
"Piroshki!" the girl exclaimed.
"On the house. Neville said it would help you feel at home". CC smiled and departed.
"Looks like Neville's taken a shine to you", Marco said, smiling too. "What are those things anyway?"
"Piroshki. Meat pastries". The girl tucked into one with relish.
"Like my mother used to make". She pushed the plate across to him.
"Try one."
"No thanks. I had a late lunch." He was content to sit and watch her eat. She looked even prettier when she was happy.