Disclaimer: I don't actually own any of this. The universe is the intellectual property of Mr. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I'm just having a little fun with it in an effort to get them creative juices flowing.
Author's note: This has, by far, been the hardest thing I've ever written, but for reasons I hadn't fully anticipated. I've spent the last several chapters creating a character who is, in a way, the personification of everything I myself hate. At several times during the writing of this story, I've had to stop for a few days just because I couldn't stand the character I'd created. But I've kept going, largely because of the wonderful reviews I've been getting (Fink, you rock). While it seems weird, somehow, describing this as a labor of love, Maria is a character that I need to see through to completion.
Anyhow, without further ado…
Chapter 5:
Nobody seemed to know exactly how long the Golden Lion had stood at the southeast corner of Queen and College. For all intents and purposes, it had been there forever.
The small microbrewery had been the major dive for just about every student ever to come through Bishop's University. They served good beer, cheaply and in a province where the drinking age was eighteen.
They had the perfect location, really. They were a five minute walk from the university campus; a two-minute walk from Little Forks where a sizeable portion of students lived off-campus; and shared their intersection with a nice little Greek restaurant which was opened until two hours after closing time. They were also right across the street from a Catholic church, just in case you felt guilty after whatever you did while you were in the bar. She imagined that the students around here had a fair amount to feel guilty about. Bishop's students had the highest number of sexually-transmitted diseases per capita than any other campus in Canada.
Lennoxville, Québec was quite possibly the only town in North America where the population quadrupled during the school year. The summer was in full swing now, and the only students still around were the ones who stuck around for the spring and summer semesters. Consequently, the Lion was relatively unpopulated, even on a Friday night.
As she sat at a table on the Lion's balcony, gently swirling the suds of the half-empty pint in her hand, Maria contemplated the possibility that this may not have been the smartest thing she could have done. The more often she went out in public, the more likely it was that someone would recognize her. But after her display in the apartment earlier that afternoon, Maria really needed to get away from Claudette and the kids; and she really, really needed a drink.
As much as she hated to admit it, the tiny town had grown on her. It was quaint, somehow. Certainly, some of the more major franchises had worked their way here; a MacDonald's stood next to the Catholic church, and a Tim Horton's had been erected just across Queen; apparently these were both relatively new arrivals. However, most of the stores along the main drag were privately-owned small operations. The video store (directly south of the Lion) was owned and run by a dumpy little Frenchman. Maria had only encountered him on a couple of occasions herself, but he seemed friendly enough. Walking up Belvidère (which became College street as soon as it crossed Queen Street), the road was lined with apartment complexes and convenience stores; or as the Québecois liked to call them, depanneurs or deps.
She glanced over to her right to see two young women gazing into each others eyes across an otherwise empty table.
That, on the other hand, was something she wasn't sure she would ever get used to. What was with all the Goddamned fags in this country? While their neighbors to the south had been waffling on the issue for years, Canada had gone and made same-sex marriages legal in the political equivalent of overnight. Frankly, Maria didn't give a shit whether they were gay, straight, or vegisexual; as long as they did whatever they did far, far away from her.
The sun set relatively early in Lennoxville, even in the summer. By nine o'clock, generally, it was pitch black outside. But the summer nights were always nice and warm. The relative lack of street lights gave an unimpeded view of the stars. She sat back for a moment in her chair, savoring the feel of the cool breeze flowing over her skin.
"Is this seat taken?"
Maria's eyes snapped open at the unexpected intrusion on her thoughts. A young man in his early twenties stood before her, a mostly-full Molson bottle in his hand. His blue eyes looked gently into hers from the center of a face neatly framed in short blond hair. His clothes, while a few years out of fashion; quite a few years out of fashion, in fact; were clean and well-pressed, and they looked quite good on him.
"Look, pal, your chances of scoring with me are zero, look somewhere else." Maria turned her attention back to the beer in her hand.
"Excuse me?" He seemed taken aback.
"I can guarantee that there are a lot skankier girls here than me tonight. Try someone else."
"You think I'm looking for a skank?"
"I think you're looking for what all college guys are looking for in a bar like this on a Friday night: to get laid no questions asked."
"That's a bit of a bleak outlook." His features softened.
"Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're wrong."
"How did I know you were going to say that?" Maria took another sip from her beer, "doesn't make me believe you any more."
"Well, I just figured that you're here alone and I'm here alone, so maybe you'd like to join me for a beer. No pressure, just a beer."
"How do you know I'm here alone?"
"The empty seat across from you is a bit of a dead giveaway." He smiled.
"Maybe I'm waiting for a friend."
"In that case, I should definitely stick around."
"Why's that?"
"Just in case she's skankier than you are."
Maria smiled. It felt good to smile. "Okay, have a seat."
"Really? 'Cause if your skanky friend isn't showing up soon, then maybe I should…"
"One-time offer."
The man dropped smoothly into the chair across from her. "Dan McMillan." He held his hand across the table for her.
"Carol-Anne." Maria took it.
"There a last name to go with that?"
"That depends on just how charming you are between now and the time I finish this beer." She held up her half-empty glass.
"How many beers is that?"
"It's my first, why?"
"I'm pretty sure I'm more charming after you've had three or four."
"Trying to get me drunk?"
"I don't know. Are you any skankier when you're drunk?" Maria had to admit that he had a rather infectious smile.
She flagged down one of the waitresses, "could we have a pitcher at this table, and two glasses, please?"
They were about halfway through their third pitcher when the barkeep announced last call. The beer didn't appear to be hitting either of them all that badly.
"So, do you have anywhere you need to be tonight?" His speech wasn't even slurred, damn him.
"Didn't I tell you that you had no chance of scoring with me tonight?" Her speech wasn't slurred either. Did he have them drinking soda pop? It sure as hell tasted like beer. And Canadians liked their beer strong.
Come to think of it, she wasn't really feeling anything, in spite of the rather large volume of alcohol she'd consumed.
"Yeah, but like I said, I think I'm much more charming after you've had a few drinks."
"Normally, yeah. Tonight, I think the barkeep was filling the pitcher with light beer."
"Or maybe you just have an incredible tolerance."
"You've had just as much to drink as I have."
"True, but my male ego won't let me let you out-drink me."
"Fair enough," Maria shrugged, "but if you get alcohol poisoning, I don't know CPR."
"Seriously though," Dan nodded over his shoulder, "My apartment's in Little Forks if you don't have to be anywhere."
"I told you…"
"Not that," Dan waved his hand dismissively, "but I'm starved, and I've got a closet full of bad movies. What do you say to an order of poutine and mindless entertainment?"
That actually did sound like an okay idea. It definitely beat whatever she might have to deal with when she got back to Claudette's apartment, anyway.
Maria nodded, "Lead the way."
Lennoxville, as a general rule, is not very well lit at night. As long as you're on the one main road through town, you have plenty of light, but step away from it and you're immediately plunged into darkness.
"You rent one of these apartments yourself?"
Dan shrugged, "Even a two-bedroom apartment's cheap in this town." He turned around to face her, his handsome features masked by the darkness, "besides, I kinda like having the place to myself."
"Believe me, I understand that."
"Bad roommate?"
"She's a bit of a nag."
"Always bothering you to clean the bathroom, vacuum the floor, that kind of thing?"
"Something like that."
"Sounds rough."
"So, where is this place of yours?"
"This way." He grabbed her hand and pulled her gently into a narrow walkway between two apartment complexes. "Careful." He helped her climb over a pair of wooden crates that someone had left in the middle of the walkway.
God, Maria had thought it was dark in the street. Here, she could barely see her hand as she waved it a few inches in front of her face.
"You're sure there isn't a better lit way to your apartment?" Maria asked, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I find a little darkness as romantic as the next girl but…"
She didn't get to finish her sentence as, with an almost animalistic growl she felt herself slammed against the brick wall to her right, she could feel the man's forearm pressing against her windpipe, making it hard to breathe. "Looks like we're going to have a little fun after all," he whispered, his face only inches from hers.
She couldn't see him in the pitch blackness to which her eyes had not yet adapted, but she could smell him. The scent of the alcohol they'd both consumed floated into her nostrils. Underlying that, she could smell something almost metallic. Almost like iron.
God, he was strong.
Alcohol. Sweat. Blood.
She could feel the panic rising in her.
Alcohol.
God, he's strong.
Blood.
God, no. Not again.
Sweat.
She could feel it streaking down her face, blurring her vision.
She gripped the arm pinning her against the wall. It felt cool to the touch. She kicked out, trying to bring her feet back to the ground, as if her wild thrashings would somehow get him to release her.
I'm trapped.
She could feel tears forming in her eyes.
Not again.
God, somebody help me.
She was panicking, badly. She could hear her pulse pounding relentlessly in her ears. Her legs kicked out in vain, trying to loosen his grip through the sheer force of her movements. Her body spasmed, trying to push itself free from the wall.
Someone help.
Tears were flowing freely from the corners of her eyes now.
Someone, please.
She kicked out, and felt her foot connect with something solid. She wasn't sure what it was, and she didn't really care. She felt him stumble away from her, and she felt herself drop to the ground.
She was still on her feet, and to her left, she could see the relatively brightly-lit street. She felt her body pull itself up and run in a blind frenzy towards the light.
"Somebody help me!" She heard herself screaming, her whole being controlled by an all-consuming panic.
She was only a few steps away now. She could make it.
She felt something slam into the back of her knees, and she felt a pair of arms wrap around them in a low tackle. She fell forwards, her body slamming facefirst into the cold concrete. She felt the air rush out of her lungs. Only a couple of feet in front of her, she could see the wooden crates they'd climbed over only moments before. A single plank lay on the ground, just inches beyond her reach. She could just touch it with the tip of her middle finger, but she couldn't get a grip on it.
She could feel him working his way up her body, his larger weight pinning her to the ground. She didn't have the leverage to free herself.
In a single motion, she twisted her body, the back of her right fist slamming into his right temple. Her hand darted out, grabbing the board and swinging it to impact with the bridge of his nose. She felt herself jump to her feet, her body seemed almost as though it were under someone else's control, and she struck at her attacker in a near berserker state. She swung the board like a club, slamming it hard into the top of his head. He stumbled under the force of the blow, but remained standing.
Her hands moved of their own accord, slamming the two by four again into the man's body. She didn't care how she hit him, or how hard, as long as the end result was something which would be completely unrecognizable as having once been a human being.
God, could he ever take punishment. He just wouldn't go down.
He stumbled backwards as another blow impacted with his shoulder. Maria still couldn't make out the details of his face, but his silhouetted body stood ready for another attack.
"Slayer." He whispered. His voice floating echoless to her ears.
"What?"
She saw his shape spin around and run for the far end of the walk.
She stood for a good five minutes, feeling the splinters from the board in her hand pushing into her fingertips, as if afraid that he would reappear.
Finally, her hand relaxed and the board fell loudly to the ground.
Then her body sagged to the ground her face falling into her cupped hands.
And she cried uncontrollably.