Solitude1056 | The group silently filed back into the shop. Twilight had fallen while they talked, and the sky through the shop's broad front window was tinged with indigo and purple. Buffy was about to speak when a small yelp came from the back of the group. Tara dashed forwards. "The kitty! I completely forgot about the kitty! Willow, did you -" "No, I thought -" "I didn't, oh no." Tara turned in distress to Buffy, who smiled at her. "You go check on Miss Kitty Fantastico - I think we'll be okay now," Buffy said. "I'll be back in a bit," Tara promised, and Willow shook her head. "No, honey, take your time." Willow glanced at Buffy, then back at Tara again. "Meet you at the Bronze in an hour?" Tara nodded, as Willow handed her a coat and kissed her quickly. Xander had pried the door open gingerly and was holding it wide for her. Tara dashed through the door while still trying to get the coat on, and the group could hear her footsteps echoing down the street in the early evening dusk. Xander closed the door carefully, checking his repairs. Buffy turned to Marcus. "Now I want some answers," she said. "Certainly," he replied. "But perhaps we could eat first? I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm famished. I'll treat." Buffy blinked, then surprised him with a smile. "Chinese?" It seemed to Willow that the rest of the group had disappeared for Marcus, as she watched him smile in response to Buffy's expression. Willow barely had time to register the moment and it was already past. Buffy was staring distrustfully again at Marcus, and he was again stone-faced. "Chinese is fine, if you like." His voice was perfectly level. "Oh, bloody hell," Spike suddenly said. "You're gonna make me eat with two sticks?" Anya had commandeered the phone as a shopkeeper's right, and was glaring at nothing in particular while repeating the orders. "No, MOO SHOO PORK." She held the phone at arm's length as she hollered directly at it. Marcus noticed the rest of the crew was making every point of ignoring the fiasco, except for Xander, who was hovering in frustration behind Anya. Each time Xander made a grab for the phone, however, Anya would twist away from him with an impatient yelp. "I'm doing it, Xander!" Finally, Marcus couldn't take anymore of Anya hollering at some poor restaurant worker. He leaned over the counter to get Anya's attention, and held out his hand. "May I have it," he requested softly. "For just a second?" Anya glared at him, then glanced at the phone again and exhaled in obvious frustration. To Xander's astonishment, she slapped the phone across Marcus' palm, telling him, "People should not come to America unless they speak American. There should be a law about it." Marcus lifted the phone to his ear, his brows furrowed at her statement. He turned his attention to the poor guy on the other end of the line. "Wei, nin hao-ma?" he said, and then smiled. Willow turned to Buffy in excitement. "Do you hear that," she asked, her eyes large. "He's speaking Chinese. I've met someone who speaks Chinese!" Behind her, Marcus set the phone against his jaw long enough to ask Xander for the list of the orders. Xander handed it to him silently, completely at a loss. Marcus' voice, usually so deep, took on a strange intonation as he repeated the orders over the phone, affirming each with a nod and a word that sounded like "schure." Willow opened her eyes wider as she listened, fascinated. Even Anya found herself drifting closer to listen. Buffy shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant. "So he watches old kung-fu movies. What's the big?" Willow rolled her eyes. "It's a foreign language... it's, it's exotic." Buffy shrugged and walked off to speak quietly with Giles. "Shì," Marcus said, and handed Xander back the list. He was obviously about to hang up when Willow stopped him. "We need chopsticks, too," she called out. Marcus nodded, saying into the phone, "Qing ni géi-wo men kuài-tze... hsièh-hsieh!" He smiled at Willow and hung up the phone. He noticed Anya standing close by, and included her in his suddenly shy smile. She scowled and turned her back on him. Now I know what it sounds like, Willow thought happily, ignoring Anya. |
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It seemed that the group was content after all the recent excitement to leave him alone for the time being, or at least until after they'd eaten. Thank goodness for small mercies, he thought, as he continued to help them tidy up the mess the wind had caused. Well, they're not all leaving me alone. He hid a wry smile as Anya continued to mutter discontentedly in the background. So, he mused, the shop girl is with Xander. Two witches: the redhead is Willow - and the blonde is Tara, and they're a couple. Giles must be Buffy's Watcher. And what about William the Bloody? Spike, she called him. Did the Slayer know how the vampire felt about her? After a second thought, he shook his head, figuring the Slayer was probably well aware of most - if not all - of her crew's idiosyncrasies. A knock at the shop door interrupted Marcus' thoughts. As he dug in his back pocket for his wallet, his stomach gave a loud rumble. "Hey, did you hear that? That sounded human, at least!" Xander whispered behind him. Marcus threw a grin over his shoulder at Willow as he went to pay for the dinner. Willow bit back a giggle. "I'm starved," Anya announced as Marcus set the three bags on the table. She immediately began ripping into each, setting food aside with a disgusted look on her face until she found her own order. "C'mon, guys, let's eat," Willow called to Buffy and Giles. "We need to leave soon or Tara'll be worrying." "It's okay, Will," Buffy replied, "we have some time yet." "Dunno why we couldn't just go to the Bronze and eat there," grumbled Spike, as he shoved back a chair and took a seat. "Listen, Fang Boy," Xander said as he snagged a helping of rice, "just occasionally we like to eat something other than flowered onions." "Sure thing, Carpenter. Just because you like to play with wood, doesn't mean you have to eat with it." "You've had over a hundred years to learn how to use chopsticks, Spike. Getting a little old? Fingers getting a little arthritic are they? Aww. Someone get the old guy a fork." |
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He tapped Willow on the shoulder to get her attention as Buffy laughed, recognizing the jibe. Willow looked over at her oldest friend, his hands forming claws as he mock-growled at her, and nearly choked on her Szechwan chicken. Drinking some water, she managed to swallow her food and grinned at Xander. "The time has come to speak of many things, of cabbages and of kings," quoted Willow. "Mister walrus," she added affectionately. |
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"No," Marcus interrupted. "It was my treat." He was amused to see Anya smile at him for the first time since he'd met her. Giles accepted the chopsticks Willow passed to him. "Anya," he said as he tore off the paper, "Remind me to look for the insurance forms in the morning, will you?" "Do you mind me asking, sir... Who actually owns this place? I thought..." Marcus glanced from Anya to Giles, puzzled. "I do," replied Giles, "although I sometimes wonder that, myself." "I take care of all the money," said Anya proudly. "I like money. A lot. Not as much as I like Xander. We're engaged. I have a ring. Look. It cost a lot of money." She looked at Xander. "It did, didn't it?" "Ah," Marcus replied with the appropriate amount of awe, only to see Anya smile at him a second time as she twiddled the ring with her thumb so it'd catch the light. He glanced across the table at the Slayer, who had remained silent throughout this exchange, observing Marcus as she ate. Buffy raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say: I know what you're thinking, but these are my friends, and I trust them, but you..? Let's wait and see, shall we. |
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Buffy had just finished the last of her dinner when the bell on the Magic Box door jangled wildly. The door was stuck as the person banged, then thrown open and Tara burst in. She was panting, out of breath, and her jeans jacket was torn at the shoulder. "V-v-v-vampires! At - the - Bronze -" She could barely get the words out between gasps. Willow was already across the shop and pulling Tara into her arms. "Shh, baby." Buffy stood up. "What about the vampires?" she prompted. "Buffy!" Willow snapped, "give her a minute!" "We might not have a minute." The Slayer's face was grim. Tara's breath was coming a bit easier now. "Buffy's right, honey. I went to the Bronze to wait for you - and there were a bunch of vampires there. I stopped counting at ten, there was a lot of screaming, and I-I ran." She touched the tear at her shoulder and smiled wryly. "Sorry about your jacket, sweetie." "I can fix that. Just as long as you're okay." Willow's voice trembled. Buffy was already moving. "Xander, Giles, Anya, come with me. Spike, stay here with Marcus." She turned back to the two witches, a stake in her hand. "Are you two up to coming along?" "I should take care of Tara," Willow replied, still worried as she touched the tear on the jacket. "I'm fine now," Tara said to Willow, then turned to Buffy. "We can help." "Showtime," Buffy announced as she grabbed her jacket. "Let's make with the slaying." "Hang on!" Spike's indignant voice stopped them in their tracks. "What?" Buffy exhaled in exasperation. "We don't have time for this." "Why do I have to be stuck with this git?" Spike did not like the thought of letting Buffy go into danger without him. "Why can't the carpenter do it?" "You can handle him." "I can handle him alright," Spike announced defensively, torn between jealousy and protectiveness. "But I do know he's got no love for vampires. Bloke bloody well nearly staked me last night!" "Thanks, I think," Marcus said. Taking quick stock of himself, he decided that the meal had refreshed him enough that he could keep going a little longer. I could use a good fight, too, he decided. Aloud he said, "Do you have any extra weapons?" "Certainly. Catch!" Giles threw a stake to him - or rather at him - from behind, and hard. Marcus whirled and caught the stake inches from his forehead. "What was that all about?" Marcus lowered his arm, glaring at Giles. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I seem to have thrown that a bit harder than I meant to." Giles smiled vaguely as he handed out the rest of the weapons to the gang. His reflexes rival Buffy's. He was still pondering this as they all trooped out. Now I really want to know what's in that letter. The interior of the bronze was hushed. The tension radiating from the humans herded together on the dance floor was so thick that even the humans crinkled their noses at the smell. To Conover, standing on the edge of the stage among the amps and speakers, the scent was fresh baked bread and roasting turkey, full of the anticipation of a grand feast. He smiled at the memory, not so terribly old, of his family sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner. Now my new family is about to have a feast of our own, he thought grandly. Blood, laced with alcohol and adrenaline. Ah, this is what it's all about. No chasing, no waiting forever for them to go off alone. Conover hadn't recognized the messenger who brought word that the Slayer wouldn't be patrolling tonight, but he had a policy of never looking a gift horse in the mouth. A scattering of human screams brought him back to the moment. Several of his crew had let their appetites get the better of them, and started eating already. He took another whiff of the fear in the room, and spoke into the microphone in front of him. "Take it easy, boys! Sorry, and girls," he added, seeing the dirty looks from the female vamps in his crew. "Anyway, we'll all get plenty to eat in a minute. I just want to say first, isn't this great? We've got all this food here," he smiled wide at the crowd, baring his teeth expansively, and savored the surge in the fear-scent. "And best of all, no Slayer!" "Remind me to invite you to my next poker game," a girl's voice suddenly said. Conover looked up to the catwalk running over the center of the room. The voice belonged to a compact blonde dressed in tight pants and a white sweater that hugged her curves nicely. His jaw dropped. Aw, no. There's no way! He fought down a sharp dose of his own fear. Doesn't matter. There's plenty of us, and only one of her. He leapt to the floor and grabbed the nearest human, a tall young man with dark hair. Conover looked up at the girl, leering savagely. "Back off Slayer - or at least this one'll die." "You're just losing every hand tonight, aren't you?" whispered a deep voice in his ear. He looked at his hostage, and then at his hostage's hand. Hey, how'd he get a sta.. The thought, and the world, went dusty and ceased. Marcus exhaled sharply to clear the dust from his nose. He glanced around, saw the others move in and engage the vampires and took a second to watch Buffy dropping from the catwalk on top of a vampire, driving a stake into its chest as she fell. Then his attention was occupied by two vampires approaching him from either side as a third came down off the stage. He kicked one in the midsection and seized the wrist of the second as she aimed a brutal roundhouse at his head. Ducking under her arm, he pulled her into the path of the vampire coming from the stage, and staked the two of them in rapid succession as they tried to get untangled from one another. Marcus was caught by surprise as the remaining vampire grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. He dropped all his weight toward the floor, then pushed back as hard as he could, bearing both of them to the floor. The impact caused the vampire to let go, and Marcus spun around on top of him, and drove his stake home.
Yes, he's quite remarkable, thought Giles as he watched young Marcus dispatch three vampires with extraordinary ease. Knowing that the others were able to defend themselves, he allowed himself to hang back and observe. Willow and Tara had snuck onto the dance floor along with Marcus while everybody was looking at Buffy. As the fighting started, they did their best to keep people calm and on the dance floor, away from the action. They're doing quite well, Giles mused. Tara's been a good influence on Willow. She's not panicking at all. His thoughts were interrupted by Anya backpedaling into him, beset by a sandy-haired vampire. She was flailing away rather ineffectually with a small axe as she retreated and she stumbled badly when she bumped into Giles. The vampire batted the axe out of her hands and punched her squarely before grabbing her, fangs bared. Giles scooped up the axe, and swung hard as the vampire pulled back in preparation for the feed. "Ow," cried Anya as the vamp burst into dust. "That hurt!" "I'm sorry," Giles replied, confused, as he looked past Anya and was stunned to see Spike and Xander actually working in unison. When she shook her head, still holding onto her chin, he gave her a small smile. "Sit down, and I'll get you some ice."
"All right, who wants a piece of old Spike?" The blonde vampire roared out his challenge. "I'll take that offer." The speaker was a huge vamp, nearly six feet tall, and he looked like he weighed almost three hundred pounds. He gave Spike a toothy grin. "I heard you were the Big Bad in this town." The grin turned into a smirk as he looked down at him. "Guess I heard wrong." "Oh, yeah, you're very funny," said Spike, and swung his axe at his opponent. "Sarky bugger. I'll show you big bad." The big vamp dodged the first swipe, and Spike started in on the back swing. Much to his surprise, his enemy was quick, for all his size, and sidestepped the second swing as well. The momentum unfortunately carried Spike within arm's reach, and he felt his feet leave the ground as the other vampire grabbed his arm, and pulled, sending him flying into the crowd. The crowd surged back from the flying mass of axe and bleached-blonde hair. Spike landed roughly on the edge of the dance floor, losing his grip on the axe. "Bleedin' hell." To make matters worse, when he looked up, there was Xander, looking amused. "Sorry, Spike, what was that? I had a hard time understanding you with your mouth full of floor." "Sod off, Harris. Did you see the size of that guy?" "Yeah. Notice how I snuck around behind him." He handed Spike the axe he'd dropped, and hefted one of his own. "What do say, you hit low and I hit high?" Spike took his axe, and grinned. "Why not?" The two turned and charged.
Marcus had no chance to rise from his third kill as the surge of the crowd knocked him into the edge of the stage. He grunted at the impact in the small of his back, and thought grimly, Whose idea was it to keep those people in here, anyway. Whatever happened to get 'em all out?
Buffy rose up from the pile of ash left by the vampire unlucky enough to be directly underneath her. She glanced to her right and saw Spike and Xander working in tandem to take on a vampire the size of a professional wrestler. Who'd've thought that would ever happen, she reflected, and promptly forgot them as she spun around to deflect a redheaded girl-vampire slamming into her. Buffy fell backwards, the vampire on top of her, and rolled to the side, pushing her assailant off. No sooner had she gotten free, the girl was back on top of her, snarling, and fighting for a hold of whatever she could grab. "Oh, great," Buffy quipped, "a hair-puller. How original." She hit the vampire on the chin, hard enough to make it let go of her hair. Buffy curled her legs up underneath her and pushed hard. The vampire flew a good six feet through the air, and slammed against one of the pillars holding up the loft. Buffy spoke, venting her aggravation as the vampire got up. "I hate hair-pullers. Do you have any idea what a good stylist costs?" The redhead's only response was a growl as she came running back, aiming a savage kick at Buffy's head. Buffy ducked, came up, and punched her opponent twice in the kidney. A responding elbow to the face rocked her back a step or two. Buffy put a hand to her lip - it came away bloody. "And plastic surgery is even pricier!" Buffy charged back at the vampire, exchanging blows with the vampire for several seconds, maneuvering her towards the pool tables. She delivered a heel kick straight to the vampire's solar plexus, sending her back into the rack of poll cues. Several of them snapped under the impact. The Slayer grabbed her victim by the shoulders, spun her around into the pool table, and picked up one of the broken pieces. "Pool cues, on the other hand, are a dime a dozen," she said as the vampire exploded into dust. Marcus had just squeezed out of the crowd and onto the stage as a vampire vaulted up from the floor onto the far end of the platform. As the creature charged, Marcus grabbed one of the mike stands and swung the heavy weight into the vamp's chin, knocking it onto its back. Bollocks, he thought, I've lost that stake. Guess I'll have to do this the hard way. Marcus reached down for his last bit of energy and concentration, intoning a silent prayer to Mars. Senta la mia preghiera, diami lo strumento, he breathed as he concentrated, per distrugg il mio nemico. Wielding his will into a sword, his chant - e faccia la guerra glorious! - became an internal scream as he swung. The vampire's head came away from the neck with a look of tremendous surprise in the instant before it crumbled to dust. Marcus looked around for the next threat, and charged off the stage, leaping over a speaker onto the floor. Buffy turned around into a vampire's attack, blocking instinctively with her right arm, which still held the broken cue. She punched the vampire in the stomach with her left fist, and pulled back the cue, ready to stake. She thrust home. As her stake penetrated the vampire's heart, she was astonished to see the creature's head come off. The dust cleared, and Buffy and Marcus were left staring at each other.
"Well, that was exciting," said Marcus as he slowly relaxed and let the energy dissipate with a silent thanks to Mars. "Does this sort of thing happen often around here?" "Hazard of life on the Hellmouth," Buffy replied. "You're not even breathing hard!" "Neither are you," he pointed out with a laugh. Buffy shook her head. "Forget about who... what are you?" "I have a theory," said Giles as he approached, "but now is hardly the time." He took the broken pool cue from Buffy, and before Marcus could speak, a cry for help came from the middle of the dance floor. The trio pushed through the crowd to find Willow lying on the floor grasping her leg. Tara had her arms around the redhead, and was trying to comfort her. "What happened?" asked Xander as he ran up, a little out of breath. "Is she alright?" Anya joined him a second later, worry apparent on her face despite the fact that she was cradling her jaw with an ice cube against it, and clearly in pain. "It w-w-was my fault." Tara was almost in tears. "I l-lost my b-b-b-balance when the crowd all moved toward the stage. All my weight must have landed on her ankle. Oh honey, I'm so sorry." Willow looked into the blonde woman's face. "It's OK, it's not your fault. I can move it." She tried to put weight on it, and flinched. "Um, not so good with the walking, though." Buffy summed up the injury and smiled at Willow, relieved. "It's probably a sprain." "If the vamps are all dusty, can we head home?" Tara smiled at Buffy from where she knelt on the floor, trying to help Willow stand. "Could someone help me..." Buffy started to bend down, but Marcus was quicker. Before he slipped his hands under Willow, though, he looked quickly at Tara. She smiled nervously and nodded her silent permission. Trying to comfort them both, he smiled as he scooped the redheaded witch into his arms. "I've got you." Buffy took a quick look around, and nodded to them. "Let's go." As the group started to move, a thought occurred to her. "Spike, could you check in on Dawn for me? Just make sure she's okay." Spike doffed an invisible cap at Buffy in agreement, shooting a last baleful glance at the stranger's back. At the door he parted with them, heading in the direction of Buffy's house while the rest of them began a silent and worried trek to Tara and Willow's apartment. |
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