sunnydalealum | (no subject)

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It's not worth the effort, at this point, to make herself firmly visible.

Instead, Meg concentrates on making her voice as loud and solid and present as possible as she zips through the building, ignoring such petty obstacles as walls and floors and extremely surprised lawyers and mentally checking off sites of battle: "All out! Everybody out!" she shouts to Wells and Spoon, and "They're coming down, get ready!" to Buffy and the others in the lobby, and "We're all done, it's time to go!" to River and Spike, and "Find the others, get out now!" to Harth and Mel, and then back to the first group again, as fast as she can.

Everyone has to hear.

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"Yeah."

Mel, bless her heart, sometimes has a hard time remembering that guns, in this day and age, kill.

"'Cause of how unconscious people don't tend to go running headlong into battle 'til it's ov - shut up, Harth."

On 'up', her body convulses, jerking both chest and wrist up hard at the same time to shake off her pinner.

"Unconscious--?"

Between the confusion and the sudden jerk, Amy loses her grip on the wrist and starts to topple sideways off of the other woman.

She's noticing, now -- and isn't it funny how you notice things like this in the middle of a fight -- there's something decidedly weird about that gun....

Juliet's hair is braided closely to her head; there's not a lot there to pull except a short tail at the nape of her neck. Harth's grip on that short tail is solid, though, and it hampers her movement considerably.

It also keeps one of his hands occupied, though, and she takes advantage of that to aim a slamming kick at his chest.

Harth grits his teeth as it comes, then pulls hard downwards just before it hits, to take advantage of her lack of balance even as he hears a rib crack. He hisses, and hooks his other hand at her throat to try and get behind her and cut off her air supply.

And maybe bite her. If need be. He vamps out, just in case.

Mel leaps to her feet, keeping her gun ready but not aimed yet.

"If I wanted anything else I'd have it by now - hey."

This shouted quickly to the side.

"Don't make me come over there!"

By chance or design, Harth's got his thumb down on the perfect spot; Juliet's still fighting, but weakly, and her eyelids are at half-mast.

Amy's staring at Mel's gun.

"Oh, no way."

Harth keeps up the pressure, holding on grimly to one wrist to keep from getting clawed, and listening intently to the pulse of Juliet's blood to make sure he doesn't let go too soon.

Or, you know. Too late.

"No way what?" he calls across, shifting sulkily but non-argumentatively back to human face.

"Uh huh."

Hey, if Amy wants to stare at Mel's second choice in weapon, that's fine by her, even if she doesn't get why.

She's just going to take a step towards Harth and Juliet, keeping her gaze fixed on the other girl.

"So are we agreed that you dying is a bad thing?"

Very softly: "Who are you?"

Her eyes track from the gun to the Scythe and back again, and widen.

"And why're you here?"

That was so not the question Mel was expecting.

Blame Mike for what comes next.

"...I'm Spartacus?"

Harth eyerolls around a semiconscious Juliet.

"Yeah, and I'm the Emperor Fabulus," he says.

Amy's fists clench, but she doesn't make a move.

"Just admit it!" she shouts.

And then, much lower: "You're from the future, aren't you."

Mel gives Harth a sheepish look.

"What ga... stop that already... gave it away?"

"I don't want her waking up! She's unreasonable!"

Also, probably really pissed off. Harth does, however, loosen the hold enough to check on Juliet's state. She's very definitely unconscious, with a throat bruised all to hell, but she'll live. He slides her to the floor with exaggerated care and an eyeroll for his twin.

"But what are you doing here? Now? What's this about?"

Amy's only barely paying any attention to Harth now. This is important.

Mel makes a concerted effort not to look like she's trying not to look at Harth, and lies outright.

"Saving your life."

Harth...

Says nothing. Conspicuously.

He pats Juliet idly on the head, keeping his expression blank, and waits to see what Mel comes out with next.

"...what?"

Amy stares.

"From what? Why me? How...?"

Mel shakes her head and raises a finger to cut Amy off.

"Sorry. Paradoxes... doces? - can't give you too much.And we have to go soon.

"But get out, OK, Amy? Stop listening to them."

"Yeah, 'cause... Lawyers?" Harth puts in, possibly unhelpfully, as he saunters over.

"Even I know there's something wrong there, and not in a fun way."

She's nodding, a little dazedly. "Okay. Okay, but ..."

"Sorry."

Mel glances back at Juliet to check she's breathing, placing a hand on Harth's shoulder.

"We only got a few seconds before the timeline reasserts itself. I'm guessing everything'll be OK, now."

Her other hand, holding the gun, rests against the holster, and now presses against the Security badge. She gives Amy a winning smile.

"Just follow your consien..."

And then they're just not there anymore.

Edited 2008-02-24 22:10 (UTC)

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