He tugged self-consciously at the hem of the woolen sweater, frowning as he reluctantly admitted that it wasn't a very flattering fit. The owner must have been a goliath.
Samson chuckled as he smoothed the brown fabric down, pleased at the analogy. Here he was, just an ordinary man on his way to battle a supernatural Goliath. And just like David from the Scriptures, he too would triumphant over the evil. The Hand of the Creator could do no less.
With a careful hand, he joustled his soft, blond locks until they rested upon his forehead in a smart, carefree look. All in all, he was rather pleased with the way the bruises and cuts had fallen upon his features- it had given him an attractive, martyrish look without truly marring his visage. Which was, as any student of the human animal knew, just the combination to lead the masses.
Suddenly, he frowned.
The morning would come within hours and he still had yet to vanquish the Key. He had to do something, and fast, before he lost control of his followers. Well, of those who were destined to follow him.
"Only a few hours before life changes forever," Samson whispered softly as he looked into the mirror, smiling with pleasure as he noticed his noble bearing and proud demeanour. Yes. He had the look of a King.
Smiling blissfully, Samson flicked a finger across the straggles of blond hair which lay across his forehead. A young, handsome king, he thought with a small smile. Proudly, he shook his head as he stepped out of the bathroom and gracefully walked down the oaken stairs. With a slight bow towards the house, the young man stepped into the bustling nighttime world of Sunnydale, anxious to recruit the first members of his court.
***
Tara closed her eyes as she felt the soft breeze caress her face, a quiet smile playing upon her lips as she inhaled the fresh scent of the night. The insistent Voices which normally would tickle and tease at the sensitive folds of her ears were uncharacteristically silent and so she took the opportunity to enjoy the solitude with her lover and the librarian as they waited in the solitude of the dark.
The petite red-head stood quietly to her side, her concern almost tangible as her thin arm draped lazily around Tara's waist in a comforting gesture. Quietly they stood next to each other, one unconsciously touching the other as they waited for the arrival of their friend.
"...certain she will be here any moment now," Giles muttered as he nervously polished his glasses.
Tara wrinkled her nose as Willow stood, answering only with a nod.
"Yes. Any moment," Tara echoed uncertainly as she watched Willow's expression.
Willow leaned her head against the taller woman's shoulder as her large brown eyes gazed over the length of the playground.
"Any moment," Willow nodded again, her voice soft and nearly lifeless.
Tara barely stifled a frustrated sigh as she glanced between her two companions. Oh, she fully understood feeling concern over a friend but sometimes, the blonde witch decided, they really took it too far. As much as Willow had assured her that Tara was important, that she was loved, she couldn't help but wonder at times. She knew she was perhaps a bit jealous but what the Scoobies seemed to forget in their rush to help their friend was that sometimes 14 year old girls were just irresponsible. Dawn, she thought as she eyed the lines of worry ingrained on Mr Giles' face, was all in all, just a girl who carried a lot of burden on those thin shoulders. She's going to rebel sometimes and each time the poor girl does, these people flip out.
I do understand some concern, all things given, she thought as she snuggled in closer to Willow. But really, not ever thing that happens will be a crisis, people. Stop looking like we are about to find out the world is going to end.
Mr Giles twitched his nose as he looked down at his watch.
"What time...?" Willow asked quickly, almost jumping at his gesture.
"Forty minutes past," the older man said with a frown.
Willow nodded wordlessly as her face reclaimed the worried look it had abandoned for half a second.
Her patience running low, Tara stretched quietly, rolling her head from side to side as she tried to regain her center of balance. Suddenly, she stopped as a glimmer caught her eye. With a short gasp, she started a short jog to the metal swingset which stood there, its rubber seats swaying slightly in the breeze.
"Tara?" Willow queried, her eyebrows raised as she watched the strange actions of her lover.
Tara shook her head quickly, her eyes tearing up as she examined contents of the black leather purse which lay strewn all over the small mounds of sand. Gently, she picked up the bent driver's license, knowing fully well what her discovery meant but physically unable to utter even a single word. Carefully, she dusted the small card off and raised it gently to her companions.
"Oh, god. Joyce," Giles breathed in horror, his eyes wide with shock. He shook his head quickly as he placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.
"Willow, Tara. I need you two to go to Buffy's house and check on Joyce. Call me on the mobile if you find her. I'll go to the gallery and check if she's there..." he said quickly as he pulled the mobile phone out of his interior breast pocket.
Tara nodded as Willow started pulling her away. Shaking her head quietly, as much as to clear her head as to get rid of the tears which marred her vision, she began jogging alongside her lover.
With a sudden frown, she looked back at the librarian, whose long, slender hands seemed to be shaking even from this distance as they cradled the phone. Why not just call the house? she thought as they hurried away. Mr Giles undoubtedly has a reason, she told herself firmly. He always does.
***
Rupert Giles stood silently as he looked at the damnable contraption called a mobile phone as it rang noisely in his hands.
"Tired or wired? Scared or meek? You've reached the Magic Box and our special for the week!" Anya's robotized voice chirped out happily. "This week's special is: extremely useful chicken's feet! Two for a dollar! Use it in a wide variety of potions and spells or give it to that annoying person who has it all and you still have to buy them something *anyway*. Please feel free to come here and spend your money during our business hours, which are 8am-7pm daily. Thank you!"
Giles snorted impatiently at his employee's latest braingem and waited for the requisite beep to sound.
"Xander, Anya. It's quite important. Please pick up the phone," he practically snarled into the handset. He nearly sighed with relief as Xander answered.
"Found them?" the young man asked anxiously, his voice slightly digitalized by the mobile's cheap amplifier.
"No. Xander, I need Anya to stay at the shop and man the phones. And tell her to turn that bloody machine OFF! I need you to go to the art gallery and see if you can find Joyce there. The moment you get there, call me on the mobile and let me know..."
"The whole family can't be AWOL?" Xander asked, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain.
"Yes, as a matter of fact. This is important, Xander. Please leave now. I'll be waiting here at the playground."
"You got it. I'm out of here." Xander answered firmly, his voice no longer containing the uncertainty it had just moments before.
"Thank you," Giles said as he ended the call.
The man looked around the playground, frowning fiercely as a breath of cold, night air brushed against his tired face. Closing his eyes, he exhaled sharply as he kneeled next to the purse in the sand. Exhaling sharply, Giles opened his eyes and began slowly placing all the strewn items back into the black purse, trying to ignore the way his hands kept shaking with each movement.