(no subject)

[sunnydalealum]

Just keep an eye on that card every now and then, he said. You'll know where to go when the time's right.

Beth's entirely aware that probably means it's magic. Which means there's any number of other things it could be doing. Which means she seriously considers not taking it home with her, in case it could be used to track her -- but the only other place she could keep it is at the shelter, and she won't do that. It'd endanger everybody else there, the ones who come in for food, the ones who work there, Peter --

She won't, that's all.

So she sticks it to the fridge with the same magnet Spike left for her back in May, and that's where it is the Monday after Thanksgiving, when she sees that it's changed. There's an address there now, in that same elegant typeface, like it's been there all along.

Aequitas. She's looked it up. Latin for justice.




It's with a certain sense of fatalism that she steps off the bus a block from the address on the card, five days later, and walks toward the building.

(It's also with the same black wig she wore that night, as a sole concession to paranoia.)

Comments

[sunnydalealum]

"I, I don't know..."

The hilarity's gone as quickly as it came; she's still smiling, but it's with a visible effort.

"I'm kind of ... not looking. Right now. Not like that."

[nomorekaraoke]

And Lorne didn't even mean it. He meant it, sure, every last word of it, but he didn't mean it... Oh, the hilarity's gone, all right.

He tilts his head, the smile fading from his lips. "You don't have to smile to keep me happy, Emma. I didn't mean it like that. But looking is looking is looking, and it doesn't have to be anything else. Just...browsing, you know? In case one day, you find something you want to invest in."

[sunnydalealum]

The name's a reminder. The name's always a reminder.

But he's being kind, and he genuinely doesn't seem to have anything to gain from it.

"Browsing," she repeats, looking down at her drink and then glancing up again. "I like that."

[nomorekaraoke]

Investing, though? That's rich, coming from him. And yet...lately, the idea has become increasingly appealing.

He inclines his head, and raises his drink. "Cheers, my little cream puff. To browsing?"

[sunnydalealum]

"To browsing," she echoes again, lifting her own glass, managing another smile.

A small sip, and she's looking around again.

"Those ones over there," she murmurs into her glass, tipping her head in their direction but keeping her eyes on Lorne. "They're vampires, aren't they."

[nomorekaraoke]

He sips too, opening himself up once more to take in the view of the club, rocking away into the night. "Oldies but goodies, yes. Old enough to appreciate a place like this and play by the rules..."

One glare in his direction sends his imminent 'but' on the proper track. "But young enough to think my inviting a Slayer is a problem. But never fear. If they do anything other than glare at you they're out, and with a bang they'll never forget."

[sunnydalealum]

Her voice is low, mostly to keep from being overheard.

"Would it do any good at all to tell them I don't do the whole Slaying thing?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"Wouldn't believe a word of it." He drains his drink, shrugging his brow, and sets it down on the bar. Ramon'll take care of it momentarily.

"Why would they? This thing ya have, vamps and Slayers? Goes so far back they have no reason at all to think there's any other way it goes down.

"Not your fault. Not their fault. It's just the way it is."

[sunnydalealum]

She sighs, her shoulders slumping a little.

"At least here it's neutral." Still low, but with a sudden edge of frustration. "It's like ... everybody who's in the fight thinks it goes on everywhere, all the time. And they think everybody's in it whether they want to be or not."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Well, think about it," he murmurs, making a supposition as easily as if commenting on the weather. "No matter who you are, or where you go, what you do or don't do... You're affected. Even if you choose to be neutral, you're still part of it."

[sunnydalealum]

"I'm not, though," she insists. "I don't have anything to do with it anymore."

[nomorekaraoke]

He tilts his head, content to watch without letting slip his personal opinion on that matter. And after a long moment of silent scrutiny, he nods.

"Fair enough."

[sunnydalealum]

The vampires are moving off into the crowd, mingling. It's a minor unease at the back of her mind that she can still pick them out without much effort.

"...So seriously, they won't start a fight here? Even with all the, the history? Or think I'm going to start one?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"They won't, and they know you won't, if you're bosom buddies with me." He glances away and back, a small smirk doing wonders for his pucker.

"For a given value of bosom," patting his own chest. "Not too busty, I'm afraid."

[sunnydalealum]

It would probably make her giggle again, except that her mind's still on the question and its answer, and that's not funny. Not even a little.

"There had to be one place I could go where nobody expects me to fight." A complex interlacing of emotion colors the words: faintly wistful, faintly bitter, deeply relieved.

[nomorekaraoke]

This moment here is one of those itty bitty ones where you know you could go a multitude of ways, never knowing quite where you'll end up. Maybe it isn't a very important crossroads, and the two of them have certainly had their share of those in their brief, yet eventful acquaintance. Maybe it isn't too important, but it's still worth a bare modicum of consideration. Afterthought rather than hindsight.

"Come on," he takes her drink, plunks it down on the bar for Ramon to keep an eye on, and holds out his hand. "Let me show you something."

[sunnydalealum]

She slips off the barstool, and hesitantly reaches out to take the offered hand. Her own hand's lost in his, small and pale.

"What?"

[nomorekaraoke]

He pulls her along to the dance floor, weaving through the tables like it's second nature. Who knows, maybe it is.

"You might want to cover your ears, sweetie, because we're going in, and the first time's always a shocker."

He winks. Cheeky bastard.

[sunnydalealum]

Wait, the dance floor? Is he --

For a moment she hangs back, resisting the pull of his hand barely a few feet from the floor.

[nomorekaraoke]

"Don't make me carry you, Missy, come on!" He insists, and pulls just a leetle bit harder, because if there's one thing - apart from making shy guys and dolls blush - it's teasing wallflowers.

"Live a little!"

[sunnydalealum]

"I don't -- I don't dance." It's purely social terror, fear of embarrassment rather than actual harm, and her resistance is weakening.

[nomorekaraoke]

"That's never stopped me before," he retorts, brimming with undisguised enjoyment, and because he is the kinda demon he is, he steps in close and envelopes his charming lady friend in an impromptu faux trot. It's nowhere near appropriate for clubbing, but Lorne has never really cared about such silly little things. Why not just have a good time, live in the moment when it's right there for the grabbing?

"Aaaand, loooong, short-short, loooong, short-short--"

And in they go, onto the dance floor, and the music crashes down on them both quite literally, heavy and loud and just the kind of music to send your heart racing right into a coronary event.

Lorne loves it.

[sunnydalealum]

It's like flipping a switch: a foot from the dance floor there's no sound at all, but step across the dividing line and wham. Beth flinches all over (and gasps, inaudibly) at the sudden assault of sound --

and then it resolves from loud noise into music, like black-and-white brightening into color, and the bass is like a second heartbeat drumming in her chest and pulsing up through the soles of her feet.

It's overwhelming.

[nomorekaraoke]

Her wide-eyed surprise is met with a wholly appreciative grin. Since he got the new speakers from his friend of a friend who works for the government - hush hush - this has been his favorite part. Introducing the sheer awesome of isolated sound to the uninitiated.

He nods up to the ceiling, where the speakers hang in neat little rows, making up an equally neat grid of sound waves that go only in the direction the speakers are aimed. It's sheer, technological brilliance, and the geek in him loves it.

And it's like they say: Sharing is caring.

[sunnydalealum]

She follows his nod to the directional speakers, and then looks back at him. He's grinning, a big red grin that matches his eyes, red like berries or blood.

And the music's everywhere and she can feel herself wanting to move to it.