sunnydalealum | (no subject)

There’s a pause, a hesitation, before Lorne hears the lock click into place behind him.

The one with the bat snorts. "'Emma', huh? She was calling herself 'Beth' back at the Academy."

The three are moving further into the room, spreading out, forming a loose triangle. It's getting harder to watch all of them at once.

Conversationally, "I could quote Shakespeare at you, but I'm not gonna. Somehow I don't think you'd appreciate it...

"It could've been any one of you, you know. Any one of you. Ever think of that?"

He's talking a chance, a gamble, a shot in the dark, but it's his only weapon right now. He thinks he has an idea why they're here, and he'll milk this chance until it runs dry.

It's with a sense of dawning dread that he realizes something. He's taking a stand.

"It could have been all of us," the girl with the axe says harshly. "It almost was. We'd all be dead now if it weren't for --"

"Jordie," says the girl with the bat, very low; it's a warning.

Okay, that's the twang what makes the shoe not fit. Casualties. Of course that's why they're here. Regardless, Lorne's losing his temper and knowing full well that's the last thing he can let himself do. He needs to stay calm.

"Do I look like I'm talking about the dearly departed? You think you know so much about right and wrong, it doesn't even occur to you you could've been in Emma's shoes. You're grieving, so you want more bloodshed? What kind of animals are you people?!"

Jordie stares at him in disbelief.

"Do you even know what she did?"

"She trusted the wrong person. You could've been any one of the zhirelin. You're no better than them or her. It doesn't have anything to do with what's right, it's who found you first."

"She trusted the wrong person. You mean, oh I don't know, somebody evil?" Jordie spits.

"You know what? We trusted her. With her oh-I'm-so-sensitive-I-hate-violence act. Right up until she stole the Scythe for Wolfram & Hart so they could use it in a ritual to kill us all."

"And you're telling me you wouldn't have infiltrated Wolfram & Hart to do the exact same thing in a heartbeat? Because you believed it was right and it had purpose and hey, what's another bunch of evildoers? What's another demon in the long run? Nothing, when you're one of the good guys."

Shaking his head. "You don't know anything. None of you do, you're just a bunch of ugly-hearted nobodies out for blood and vengeance."

Jordie's knuckles go white on the axe.

"We’re Slayers," she says, "and we came for justice. And if we were just here for blood and what's-another-demon? We wouldn't be giving you a chance to step aside."

"Yeah..." He has no qualms about looking her straight in the eye - so young, he wonders how young. Wonders if he'll ever see the world so clearly as when he was her age.

"You hide behind that title, why don't you. Hide behind your so called justice. Doesn't change the fact you're breaking and entering. Doesn't change the fact you're going after one of your own."

He doesn't move one inch. He won't budge. They'll have to get through him to get to Emma. Even if he's unarmed, he'll fight until he can fight no more. Over his dead body.

It's about damn time.

"Damn straight we're going after one of our own!" Jordie snarls. "Because nobody else will. Because nobody else has the right to. Because she betrayed us and she got Kennedy killed and she doesn't get to just walk away from that, and if you don't step out of my way I swear to god I will cut you down."

The door behind Lorne is thick enough that he may not hear the stifled gasp, but there's no way he can miss the sound of the lock being undone and the doorknob turning.

"Then cut me down." He's dead serious. "What do I know, right? I'm just another obstacle."

He's hoping to Whoever is Listening that Emma isn't about to do something very stupid. One glance to the right, looking for things to use as weapons, he scrambles to decide on a strategy a little bit more elaborate than hit a high note, duck, cover and fight for her life.

He doesn't even get that far.

"Wait," says a shaking voice behind him, and the door opens.

The two Slayers flanking Jordie brace, one of them raising her crossbow and aiming –- but the bulk of her is still behind Lorne, and there's no way to get a clear shot.

For her part, Beth's trying to meet Jordie's eyes.

"Kennedy's dead?"

Jordie goes white, her eyes and eyebrows standing out like streaks of ink against her face, and her mouth twists with corrosive rage.

"You didn't even know?"

The bulk of her will stay behind Lorne if he has anything to say about it, but for the moment they're just talking, and he can deal with talking.

He can even deal with shutting the Hell up, for the time being. One thing he won't do, however, is let himself look away from any one of the armed and dangerous girls.

Jordie's talking, yes –- but also taking a step forward, her hand tightening still further on that blood-red axe.

"You didn't even care enough to find out who died when you sold us out?"

"I didn't want anyone to die!"

It's a cry, but there's little strength in it; not desperate but despairing, not expecting to be believed.

"I didn't know what she was going to do with it, I swear, I didn't know."

"Back off, kitten."

It's a threat; anything to draw the fire away from Emma. He doesn't have much else.

People always underestimate him - maybe it's the suits or the long lashes or the queer eye/straight guy vibes, he isn't sure why - but one thing he knows. It has a tendency to come in handy.

Jordie's not looking at Lorne anymore.

"If you don't want anyone else to die because of you," she says, lethally soft, "tell him to step aside. Last chance."

One unsteady hand reaches out to brace against the doorframe.

Her voice is a thin, shocked whisper. "Boss..."

"Don't. I'm not letting them slaughter you."

...and suddenly, he realizes something. Something important.

To Jordie, softly, gently. "You're afraid."

"Not of you," Jordie answers evenly. "Beth? What's it gonna be?"

"I'm sorry," Beth's whimpering, "I'm sorry --"

"No, not of me. Of what killing me will mean to you." Still watching, never taking his eyes off anything or anyone, but for now his main focus is on the girl with the fabulous hair. "What it will do to you, what your superiors will think. Your friends...what if they know me, if they'd notice I'm gone. What if they find out."

He takes one step closer, the palms of his hands showing at his sides. "Hit me. Shut me up.

"Kill me."

For just a flicker of a moment, she hesitates; long enough to tell Lorne that his shot struck home.

Then she lifts the axe over her shoulder, her face set in grim resolve. "I don't have to kill you," she grates, "to shut you up."

And she brings the weapon around like a baseball player swinging for the fences, turning it in mid-strike so that it's the flat of the blade, not the edge, aimed at Lorne's head.

From behind him, Beth's voice: "No!"