Sam laughed again as she added a package of Twinkies to the pile. "Could we at least pretend to be healthy here?" He was met with the classic "silly you" look from Buffy as she pet his arm before turning back to the wall of snacks.
He smirked as she and Anya bickered about Thanksgiving and whether or not it had almost been as deadly as a typical hunt. He grinned at Buffy. "How come I never heard about this experience with you and a turkey?"
Dean walked into the shop, raising an amused eyebrow at the stack of food the Slayer was currently balancing in his brother's arms. Sam, the pack mule. Kinda worked for him honestly.
Anya greeted him with a wide smile as he stepped up to her, listing off all the items she had retrieved. He smirked as she lifted up the condoms. Why the hell hadn't he met this girl a long time ago?
"I like your priorities, sweetie," he grinned wolfishly at her, giving her rear a playful swat as he made his way towards the coolers. He studied the beer case with a tilt of his head. If they were gonna be camped out researching zombies, he was gonna need alcohol.
"You get in touch with Bobby?" Sam asked, thankful when Buffy picked up a jar of peanut butter, a jar of jelly, and a couple loaves of bread. His stomach could only handle so much junk food.
"Yeah, he's gonna let us know if he finds out anything," he said, grabbing a 12-pack case of beer from the cooler before joining Anya in her aisle again as she grabbed a bag of gummi worms. "Told me to check in as soon as we find anything out."
"Trust me, the last thing you want to see ever is me with a turkey baster in my hand," said Buffy, shuddering at the memory. Her first family Thanksgiving - six months after her death where she'd tried to make everybody get along, a one-night-only kinda deal.
Except it hadn't worked. Willow and Tara had still been separated, Anya and Xander had spent the day arguing about seating plans for the wedding and Buffy had almost single-handedly burnt down her house. "I'm not exactly the picture of domesticity over here..."
"Who is?" Anya asked, smiling to herself quite smugly when Dean swatted her on the butt. Sam and Buffy chose not to notice, even though they quite blatantly had, and Anya set about grabbing more stuff.
Important stuff, like gummi worms. And more Durex, one of which lay heavy on the emphasis that they were ribbed for her pleasure.
"Thanksgiving is a no-no," said Buffy, "ditto birthday's. I can do Christmas at a push but don't expect me to cook." She picked up a couple of loaves of bread - sandwiches being the only thing she didn't regularly kill - and glanced over at Sam and Dean as they talked about Bobby.
"I'm still trying to reach Giles. He's probably got the new slayers out training already," she murmured, rolling her eyes. "He can probably tell me where Willow is too."
Anya stopped struggling long enough with one of the grocery bags she'd started packing to glance up, "You're going to bring her down here?"
"Once we know what's going on? Sure, well... Maybe," Buffy shot a look at Sam. "If this is as bad as it's turning out to be, we can probably use all the help we can get."
"So basically the fate of the world rests with four people who can't even cook?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "Yeah, this is gonna bode well." He started towards the counter where Anya and Dean were currently bagging items.
Dean raised an eyebrow at Buffy. "Willow is your witchy woman friend, right?" he asked.
Sam rolled his eyes as he started tossing bags of chips into a grocery bag. "Not all witches are bad, you know."
Dean snorted a bit but didn't argue, finishing up with his own bag. "So we got some food to tide us over, and other essentials," he said as he grinned at Anya. "I say next stop is that hunting store to get some more artillery."
"More guns, right?" Buffy asked, trying to hide her grimace. Her relationship with guns was a lot like her relationship with driving - tempestuous and virtually non-existent considering the two times she'd done both she'd almost got herself killed (would have been killed if Willow hadn't been all black-eyed and world-endy...)
"I like guns better than swords," said Anya, shooting a pointed look at Buffy, "Swords and I don't have a great track record either. Besides, I thought you like dthe whole flying-fatality aspect of things?"
"Crossbows, I can handle," Buffy told her, ignoring her last comment, "Guns? Not so much." She shot a look at Sam, "If you guys want me as backup, I'm gonna have to improve my aim a little."
Beside her, Anya brightened. "Target practice? I could go in for that, too." She glanced over to where Dean was standing, smiled a little. "Is your approach very hands on?"
Sam gave Buffy a reassuring smile as she cringed at the mention of more guns. Guns were second nature for him and Dean; they'd been raised with them, taught how to fire them when other kids were still learning how to ride bikes. But Buffy wasn't like him in that manner; she had a cautious edge when it came to guns, decling when he had previously offered to teach her the proper way to handle a firearm.
"It'll be fine," he said with a nod. "I'll teach you the basics. Not that much different from a crossbow really."
Dean hitched a shoulder at that. "Crossbow could come in handy too," he said, trying in his own way to be helpful. Guns were better by default, but hell, if she had to fall back on a different weapon in a crunch, he supposed a crossbow would do. "Just aim for the head."
Is your approach very hands on?
Dean smirked at her question, no need to read between the lines. "You can definitely count on it," he grinned over at her.
Sam rolled his eyes, hefting the two bags he had Buffy had gathered with food and supplies. "If you two keep it up like this, I'm gonna let the zombies eat me first."
"Even Dean sees the benefit of a crossbow," said Buffy, though she'd pretty much resigned herself to the fact that guns were always going to be the weapon of choice with the Winchester brothers.
Just like her stake, though she was woman enough to admit that faced with a zombie, a stake was gonna be pretty useless. "Target practice it is, I guess..."
If you two keep it up like this, I'm gonna let the zombies eat me first.
"I call second," Buffy added, then frowned, "Did I actually just say that?"
"Spoken like two people who've had none for a while," said Anya, patting Buffy on the arm, "Seriously. When was the last time you--" she made a ring with her finger, jammed her finger through it a couple of times "--Y'know?"
Buffy's cheeks flushed, "Y'know, for a person who spends as much time talking about it? I find it hard to believe you can't actually say the words."
Anya rolled her eyes, "Fine. Had sex, fornicated, bumped uglies, made--"
Grabbing one of the bags in one hand, Buffy took Sam's sleeve by the other, leading him with her to the door. "I kinda asked for that, didn't I?" She asked, trying to block out the sounds of all the names Anya currently knew (and that was a lot) for sex.
Dean had to give Anya credit for the number of words and phrases she had to describe sex, and he made mental note to use some of those himself next time. He grinned at his brother and Buffy as they seemed completely mortified. "My brother can be a bit of a nun," Dean smirked as he and Anya gathered their bags, following after Buffy and Sam.
"I've come to the conclusion that it's a no-win situation when it comes to them actually," Sam said with a defeated look as they loaded up the trunk.
***
The local hunting shop had apparently been closed when the world came to a quick zombie-end, but Dean had been able to pick the lock in record time. As the door had flung open, everyone had stepped inside, going off in different directions in the store.
After shimmying the rifle case open, Dean grinned in excitement as he started lifting out firearms to see how they felt in his hands. "Christmas came early for this boy," he muttered to himself.
In a different area of the store, Sam had a hunting bag slung over his shoulder as he studied a wall of non-weapons related material--flashlights and batteries and things of that sort. Guns were a necessity, that was no doubt, but if things were getting this bad this fast they needed to be prepared for everything.
He flung open the bag, tossing in a couple of high-powered flashlights and replacement batteries.
"This is how it starts," said Anya, standing a way back from Dean as he rifled through the weapons cabinet, looking like a particularly exciteable child.
Buffy glanced over at her, having tried to give the whole guns aspect a miss (at least for now), "How what starts?"
"This. The apocalypse. The whole town is gone. Maybe the next town over, one after that..." Anya sighed, "It doesn't look good, Buffy."
"I've heard that one before," she said, unsure whether she was trying to comfort herself or Anya, but her heart wasn't in the retort. She'd seen a town empty herself, the threat of the apocalypse enough to drive the citizens away - never one that'd been brought to it's knees by it already, all it's inhabitents dead. Or worse.
Buffy shuddered, leaving Anya to her own musings as she went to look for Sam. "Flashlights," she nodded approvingly as she approached, "the best friend of a girl who doesn't like being kept in the dark."
She picked up a couple of books of matches, glancing at all the supplies for a hunt, and shook her head, "I've done this whole Apocalypse: Now thing five thousand times, yet the first thing on my mind isn't water or batteries," she joked, "It's saving the Twizzlers. What does that say about me?"
"I'm not very good at this," Anya told Dean from behind as she watched him pulling various weapons from shelves. She held his gaze when he looked at her, her nose wrinkling at his unspoken question, "This whole staying and fighting business. I'm two-for-one on that score but mostly? I run. Or die."
She frowned a bit at that, grabbing one of the carriers from the shelves and started helping him load ammo into it. "Have you done many of these? Apocalypses, I mean..."
Sam looked up as Buffy approached him, her lips curled into a frown. She didn't need to say it, but he knew she was worried about Dawn and her friends. This was just one town, but if this was a true apocalypse, no one would be safe anywhere, overseas or not.
He chuckled a bit under his breath as she mentioned saving Twizzlers, glad that they were all still able to make light of this situation. "It says that you will not go hungry at the world's end," he teased. "You'll have one hell of a sugar rush though."
He loaded up the last of the flashlights and batteries, shifting the strap of the bag on his shoulder. He started towards the case that held hunting knives and crossbows, Buffy at his side.
"Besides," he grinned at her as he tossed the bag on top of the glass case, "someone has to be in charge of the Twizzlers." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade to work the lock open. "Any word from Giles yet?" he asked as he picked the lock on the case.
Dean grabbed a couple of rifle bags as he picked out the ones that would do the job, listening as Buffy and Anya discussed how apocalypses started. He frowned a bit as he listened to Anya describe how it was usually one town after another. They had done a crappy job of saving this town so now they were gonna have to save the whole damn world? Dean had faith in their abilities to kick a little demon ass, but this was a whole 'nother ballgame.
I'm not very good at this.
Dean looked up as she lingered over his shoulder, Buffy gone off to obviously find his brother. She looked a bit guilty, nose wrinkling and hands working nervously in front of her, as she admitted that she wasn't exactly a trooper when it came to apocalypses. Hell, he couldn't really blame her.
"I haven't really been in a true apocalypse," he admitted as she grabbed a second bag and started loading the ammo they would need. "Call me an apocalypse virgin," he grinned.
He shrugged a bit as he added, "Me and Sam? The closest we ever got was when the Devil's Gate opened, maybe that time in Oregon when we really did think we were gonna die..."
He frowned a bit as he thought about how he had given up that night, just like that. Told Sam he was through with the life, the hunting, the demons, the road, everything. He had accepted death with his brother the only time they'd come face to face with what they thought was the world ending. So yeah, he really couldn't blame Anya at all for taking off when she knew an apocalypse was biting at her heels.
Except she wasn't right now.
He watched her a bit as she loaded up more ammunition before finally asking the question that was needling at him. "Why aren't you running now?"
Buffy grinned, "Sugar rush, I can deal with. No more Twizzlers? I can not." It amazed her that after all these years - all these apocalypses, everything they'd faced both together and apart - they could still joke about it like it was nothing.
A defense mechanism, she figured, but one that worked, nonetheless.
Any word from Giles yet?
She checked her phone, even thouh she knew it was useless. She'd set it to vibrate and ring, just on the offchance that she didn't hear it in all this-- Well, silence.
"Nope, nothing," she shook her head, "I tried leaving a message on Dawn's cell but all I got was a 'not in service' message." She tried not to let herself think that maybe something was seriously wrong but after everything that'd happened--
Buffy frowned, "They'll be okay, right? I mean... They've got a bunch of newly minted Slayers right there with them. And Faith." But not me, a little voice inside was taunting her. Buffy tried her best to push it back, to believe what she'd said herself, and crossed the room to take one of the crossbows from the cabinet. It wasn't hers but it'd do.
"You hang around with Buffy long enough and your virgin status disappears quite fast," said Anya, smiling at him as he loaded things. He really was quite able to distract her that way. By... Well, moving. He had nice arms and a nice--
The closest we ever got was when the Devil's Gate opened, maybe that time in Oregon when we really did think we were gonna die...
Anya glanced back at his face when he said that, the set of his jaw. She wondered, then, what'd happened. In Oregon. She knew about the deal, of course, he'd told her about the gates to Hell opening... But the look on his face told her that that night, right then, he'd maybe faced the biggest thing they'd ever faced. They'd come up against an apocalypse and maybe he'd wanted to run then. He wasn't running now, but then again, neither was she.
Of course, when Dean asked her that? Anya paused, dropping the last box of ammo in the bag. "It isn't obvious?" He gave her a look then. A look that told her that no, it wasn't obvious, and that he needed it explained. Quickly.
"Do you know what it's like to wander around life, stumbling from day to day with no purpose? I do. I did that for months, trying to find out who I was, why I was here if it wasn't to be Mrs. Xander Harris and... I didn't like it, Dean. It wasn't pleasant. And then--Then, the apocalypse came. The last one. And I had something, something to fight for. And then I died."
She paused a second, staring at him, "I should be more upset about that, I suppose, but... I got brought back. For you. I have purpose now, I think, because of you. I could run right now, I don't think you'd stop me but... Life's not much worth living if you have no purpose and if I left... I wouldn't have that any more, would I?"
She glanced at the next cabinet over, wondering whether they'd need that ammo too, and looked back at him. "It helps that you're pretty. And good in bed. You make it very hard to leave when I know what you can do with your mouth," she grinned.
Sam cracked the lock on the case, a small triumphant smile on his face. He slid the case open, taking out knives to examine as Buffy explained that Giles still hadn't returned any calls.
They'll be okay, right?
Sam looked up at that question, at the tinge of fear she was trying to keep hidden under her words, but she had her back to him as she examined a crossbow in her hands.
"Hey," he said gently, trying to pull her attention back to him, and when he finally turned her gaze to his, he continued, "they'll be fine. They are fine." He gave her a small, reassuring smile as he added, "Hell, they're probably safer than we are right now."
He felt guilty that Buffy was here with him worrying about her sister. As much as he loved having her here by his side, she really should have been with her sister when the apocalypse started.
He went over to her as the frown stayed on her lips, placing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently to him. "We'll hear from them soon enough," he said with a nod, trying his best to quiet his own fears about their safety as he kissed the top of her head. "Poor Giles is probably just swamped with teenage girls right now," he grinned down at her.
"Why aren't you running now?" Dean watched as Anya gave him a quizzical look, dropping a box of ammo into her bag.
Isn't it obvious?
Not to him, no, because honestly, he couldn't see why she wasn't taking her chance at a quick exit. Hell, if the world was ending, it didn't matter if he got twelve months or not. They may not even have twelve more months; the world could end in a week for all they knew. This was a get out of jail free card if he ever saw one. It wasn't that he wantd her to pick up and go--especially considering he liked having her around to even out the SamBuffy factor--but he could understand the need to get the hell out of dodge.
Do you know what it's like to wander around life, stumbling from day to day with no purpose?
He didn't but that was only because he was born with a purpose. Hutn evil, revenge mom, keep his brother safe. His life was nothing but one big purpose. He couldn't imagine not having a purpose, and maybe that's what scared him the most about losing Sam. Without Sam, he had no purpose. He was nothing.
I got brought back. For you. I have purpose now, I think, because of you.
And that stopped him in his tracks. He was someone's purpose? Someone's reason to keep fighting? It'd been the other way around for so long, he didn't even know what to do with that knowledge.
And before his own insecurities could weigh him down, she joked about him being pretty and good in bed, and he would never tell anybody or else he'd be going soft like his brother, but he was suddenly very glad this girl randomly showed up in his life.
"I am completely irresistible," he smirked at her before catching her by her waist and bringing them close enough together for him to kiss her deeply. And when he finally pulled away, he winked at her and grinned, "Not so bad yourself, by the way."
He tapped her playfully on the rear again before reaching for two more rifles and loading them into his bag.
"You mean 'cause they're not smack in the middle of Zombie-Ground-Zero?" Buffy asked, still frowning. It should have made her feel better, sure. And Sam was trying, she'd give him that, but right now... Buffy's spidey senses were a-okay, other than the honking aroma of Apocalypse.
There was nothing here. No humans, no zombies, nothing otherwise unwordly just quiet, eerie. And as much as that set her teeth on edge? She'd prefer zombies, providing they weren't chowing down on her sister.
She felt Sam beside her before she'd even realized he'd moved, frowned a little as she realized how way off her game she was. She let herself be pulled into his arms though, her fears somewhat allayed at the look on Sam's face. Wheter he believed it or not, he gave a good show - one Buffy was grateful for.
"You're right," she nodded, "He's probably freaking out at the amount of girls he's talked himself into training. Or freaking out at the amount of bathroom-hogging going on."
God, she hoped that were true. She'd have to deal with the alternative if it came to it and she really, really didn't want to.
"You look surprised," Anya pointed out, watching him for a moment after he'd swatted her on the butt again and had kissed her. She'd noted yesterday that whenever she got close to talking about things of uncomfortableness, Dean had a tendency of clamming up.
She didn't mind that - knew from Buffy and her reluctance to talk about anything of substance (especially with her) that it was a defence mechanism, something that helped her cope when she'd run out of vampires to sleep with or beat up.
Dean was no different and, joking about his abilities in bed and the things he could do with his mouth aside, Anya was starting to think that it was maybe a little strange for him. This whole 'I have purpose because of you' thing.
"You are quite irresistible, though," she admitted, "whoever brought me back obviously sees that in you too. Though if you start having sex with them, I won't be quite so pleased."
And it was funny how a throwaway comment such as that one could make her stomach burn a little with a nauseous feeling. Very unpleasant. "Not that I think you'll find many people to sleep with in this part of town, unless you're into dead people that try to eat your face..."
She shuddered at that one. "Where are we headed next, the library?" At least there she could feel somewhat useful. Here, she didn't know what she needed ammo-wise and she hadn't even seen a pitchfork, yet.
Dean zipped up the last of the bags, shouldering one of them as she studied him.
You look surprised.
He'd hoped he had hid that well enough, but obviosuly, he hadn't. He cleared his throat as he shrugged, his voice casual as he spoke, "Just not used to being someone's purpose, I guess. Tends to be the other way around."
He reached for the second bag of rifles and handguns that he had left on top of the display case, and he smirked at how she mentioned not liking the idea of him sleeping with someone else.
"No worries about that one, sweetie," he grinned at her as she zipped up her bag of ammo, hefting it onto her shoulder.
"Library is definitely a good plan. Let's find the other half of this team and kick up some gravel while we still have daylight to burn."
He started towards the back of the store, Anya at his side.
"I don't like it when you call it Zombie Ground Zero," Sam teased as he gave her one final squeeze before walking back over to the knife case and loading up his bag.
"Toss anything you like in the bag," he said as he watched her go back to selecting a crossbow.
"You realize those are equipped for arrows and not actual stakes, right?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow as he and Anya joined Sam and Buffy.
"I could call it the Undead's Favorite Party town, but I think Sunnydale had that title. Had being the operative word, there," said Buffy. She turned, aiming the crossbow at the far wall.
From the corner of her eye she noted Dean and Anya, both looking pretty happy with themselves.
You realize those are equipped for arrows and not actual stakes, right? Dean asked.
"First, I give you a 'duh'," said Buffy, smiling slightly, "And I'm willing to give up my stakes for flying fatality."
"I didn't find a sword," Anya huffed a little, "Or a pitchfork."
Although this wasn't exactly their speciality or anything, she guessed. More your regular hunting thing like guns and knives and oh, what she would not give for raiding Giles' weapons cabinet downstairs. "Did you hear anything from Giles yet?"
"Not yet," Buffy deliberately kept her voice light, "Sam just pointed out how likely it is that Giles is having a funny aneurysm at how many girls he's dealing with right now."
"He never did have any patience, really," said Anya, smiling to herself, "We're heading to the library now if you're finished collecting weapons?" She looked hopefully at Sam. Whereas Buffy was quite content with her crossbow, Sam seemed a lot like his brother in that weapons hunting could take him weeks. Months, even.
Much like herself and Buffy, only with clothes.
"I'm good," Buffy held up the crossbow, nodding. She'd collected a few boxes of arrows from the cabinet Sam had picked the lock on a few minutes ago. Content with her choice, she stowed it in the bag, ready for her not-so-favorite part of the hunt.
Research. Oh, how she wished she could skip the research and go straight into something she was good at, like, beating something up.
"I'm sure we'll find a pitchfork at some point," Dean said, amazed at both women's need for artillery that seemed more a hassle than a basic rifle or handgun. He nodded to his brother. "You ready?"
"Yeah," he said with a nod of his own. "Knives as well as some backup flashlights and batteries. Don't really like the idea of zombies sneaking up on me in the dark."
"I second that," Dean said, lifting the one bag in his hands. "We got enough firepower here to make our last stand at the Alamo."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Dude, the Alamo was a horrible bloodbath that technically the bad side won." He added with a disbelieving smirk, "American History 101? Did you even attend?"
Dean returned the smirk with a cocky look of his own. "No, Urkel, I was too busy getting some ass behind the bleachers. Let's go." With that, he turned and started out of the store.
He smirked as she and Anya bickered about Thanksgiving and whether or not it had almost been as deadly as a typical hunt. He grinned at Buffy. "How come I never heard about this experience with you and a turkey?"
Dean walked into the shop, raising an amused eyebrow at the stack of food the Slayer was currently balancing in his brother's arms. Sam, the pack mule. Kinda worked for him honestly.
Anya greeted him with a wide smile as he stepped up to her, listing off all the items she had retrieved. He smirked as she lifted up the condoms. Why the hell hadn't he met this girl a long time ago?
"I like your priorities, sweetie," he grinned wolfishly at her, giving her rear a playful swat as he made his way towards the coolers. He studied the beer case with a tilt of his head. If they were gonna be camped out researching zombies, he was gonna need alcohol.
"You get in touch with Bobby?" Sam asked, thankful when Buffy picked up a jar of peanut butter, a jar of jelly, and a couple loaves of bread. His stomach could only handle so much junk food.
"Yeah, he's gonna let us know if he finds out anything," he said, grabbing a 12-pack case of beer from the cooler before joining Anya in her aisle again as she grabbed a bag of gummi worms. "Told me to check in as soon as we find anything out."
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Except it hadn't worked. Willow and Tara had still been separated, Anya and Xander had spent the day arguing about seating plans for the wedding and Buffy had almost single-handedly burnt down her house. "I'm not exactly the picture of domesticity over here..."
"Who is?" Anya asked, smiling to herself quite smugly when Dean swatted her on the butt. Sam and Buffy chose not to notice, even though they quite blatantly had, and Anya set about grabbing more stuff.
Important stuff, like gummi worms. And more Durex, one of which lay heavy on the emphasis that they were ribbed for her pleasure.
"Thanksgiving is a no-no," said Buffy, "ditto birthday's. I can do Christmas at a push but don't expect me to cook." She picked up a couple of loaves of bread - sandwiches being the only thing she didn't regularly kill - and glanced over at Sam and Dean as they talked about Bobby.
"I'm still trying to reach Giles. He's probably got the new slayers out training already," she murmured, rolling her eyes. "He can probably tell me where Willow is too."
Anya stopped struggling long enough with one of the grocery bags she'd started packing to glance up, "You're going to bring her down here?"
"Once we know what's going on? Sure, well... Maybe," Buffy shot a look at Sam. "If this is as bad as it's turning out to be, we can probably use all the help we can get."
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Dean raised an eyebrow at Buffy. "Willow is your witchy woman friend, right?" he asked.
Sam rolled his eyes as he started tossing bags of chips into a grocery bag. "Not all witches are bad, you know."
Dean snorted a bit but didn't argue, finishing up with his own bag. "So we got some food to tide us over, and other essentials," he said as he grinned at Anya. "I say next stop is that hunting store to get some more artillery."
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"I like guns better than swords," said Anya, shooting a pointed look at Buffy, "Swords and I don't have a great track record either. Besides, I thought you like dthe whole flying-fatality aspect of things?"
"Crossbows, I can handle," Buffy told her, ignoring her last comment, "Guns? Not so much." She shot a look at Sam, "If you guys want me as backup, I'm gonna have to improve my aim a little."
Beside her, Anya brightened. "Target practice? I could go in for that, too." She glanced over to where Dean was standing, smiled a little. "Is your approach very hands on?"
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"It'll be fine," he said with a nod. "I'll teach you the basics. Not that much different from a crossbow really."
Dean hitched a shoulder at that. "Crossbow could come in handy too," he said, trying in his own way to be helpful. Guns were better by default, but hell, if she had to fall back on a different weapon in a crunch, he supposed a crossbow would do. "Just aim for the head."
Is your approach very hands on?
Dean smirked at her question, no need to read between the lines. "You can definitely count on it," he grinned over at her.
Sam rolled his eyes, hefting the two bags he had Buffy had gathered with food and supplies. "If you two keep it up like this, I'm gonna let the zombies eat me first."
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Just like her stake, though she was woman enough to admit that faced with a zombie, a stake was gonna be pretty useless. "Target practice it is, I guess..."
If you two keep it up like this, I'm gonna let the zombies eat me first.
"I call second," Buffy added, then frowned, "Did I actually just say that?"
"Spoken like two people who've had none for a while," said Anya, patting Buffy on the arm, "Seriously. When was the last time you--" she made a ring with her finger, jammed her finger through it a couple of times "--Y'know?"
Buffy's cheeks flushed, "Y'know, for a person who spends as much time talking about it? I find it hard to believe you can't actually say the words."
Anya rolled her eyes, "Fine. Had sex, fornicated, bumped uglies, made--"
Grabbing one of the bags in one hand, Buffy took Sam's sleeve by the other, leading him with her to the door. "I kinda asked for that, didn't I?" She asked, trying to block out the sounds of all the names Anya currently knew (and that was a lot) for sex.
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"I've come to the conclusion that it's a no-win situation when it comes to them actually," Sam said with a defeated look as they loaded up the trunk.
***
The local hunting shop had apparently been closed when the world came to a quick zombie-end, but Dean had been able to pick the lock in record time. As the door had flung open, everyone had stepped inside, going off in different directions in the store.
After shimmying the rifle case open, Dean grinned in excitement as he started lifting out firearms to see how they felt in his hands. "Christmas came early for this boy," he muttered to himself.
In a different area of the store, Sam had a hunting bag slung over his shoulder as he studied a wall of non-weapons related material--flashlights and batteries and things of that sort. Guns were a necessity, that was no doubt, but if things were getting this bad this fast they needed to be prepared for everything.
He flung open the bag, tossing in a couple of high-powered flashlights and replacement batteries.
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Buffy glanced over at her, having tried to give the whole guns aspect a miss (at least for now), "How what starts?"
"This. The apocalypse. The whole town is gone. Maybe the next town over, one after that..." Anya sighed, "It doesn't look good, Buffy."
"I've heard that one before," she said, unsure whether she was trying to comfort herself or Anya, but her heart wasn't in the retort. She'd seen a town empty herself, the threat of the apocalypse enough to drive the citizens away - never one that'd been brought to it's knees by it already, all it's inhabitents dead. Or worse.
Buffy shuddered, leaving Anya to her own musings as she went to look for Sam. "Flashlights," she nodded approvingly as she approached, "the best friend of a girl who doesn't like being kept in the dark."
She picked up a couple of books of matches, glancing at all the supplies for a hunt, and shook her head, "I've done this whole Apocalypse: Now thing five thousand times, yet the first thing on my mind isn't water or batteries," she joked, "It's saving the Twizzlers. What does that say about me?"
"I'm not very good at this," Anya told Dean from behind as she watched him pulling various weapons from shelves. She held his gaze when he looked at her, her nose wrinkling at his unspoken question, "This whole staying and fighting business. I'm two-for-one on that score but mostly? I run. Or die."
She frowned a bit at that, grabbing one of the carriers from the shelves and started helping him load ammo into it. "Have you done many of these? Apocalypses, I mean..."
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He chuckled a bit under his breath as she mentioned saving Twizzlers, glad that they were all still able to make light of this situation. "It says that you will not go hungry at the world's end," he teased. "You'll have one hell of a sugar rush though."
He loaded up the last of the flashlights and batteries, shifting the strap of the bag on his shoulder. He started towards the case that held hunting knives and crossbows, Buffy at his side.
"Besides," he grinned at her as he tossed the bag on top of the glass case, "someone has to be in charge of the Twizzlers." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade to work the lock open. "Any word from Giles yet?" he asked as he picked the lock on the case.
Dean grabbed a couple of rifle bags as he picked out the ones that would do the job, listening as Buffy and Anya discussed how apocalypses started. He frowned a bit as he listened to Anya describe how it was usually one town after another. They had done a crappy job of saving this town so now they were gonna have to save the whole damn world? Dean had faith in their abilities to kick a little demon ass, but this was a whole 'nother ballgame.
I'm not very good at this.
Dean looked up as she lingered over his shoulder, Buffy gone off to obviously find his brother. She looked a bit guilty, nose wrinkling and hands working nervously in front of her, as she admitted that she wasn't exactly a trooper when it came to apocalypses. Hell, he couldn't really blame her.
"I haven't really been in a true apocalypse," he admitted as she grabbed a second bag and started loading the ammo they would need. "Call me an apocalypse virgin," he grinned.
He shrugged a bit as he added, "Me and Sam? The closest we ever got was when the Devil's Gate opened, maybe that time in Oregon when we really did think we were gonna die..."
He frowned a bit as he thought about how he had given up that night, just like that. Told Sam he was through with the life, the hunting, the demons, the road, everything. He had accepted death with his brother the only time they'd come face to face with what they thought was the world ending. So yeah, he really couldn't blame Anya at all for taking off when she knew an apocalypse was biting at her heels.
Except she wasn't right now.
He watched her a bit as she loaded up more ammunition before finally asking the question that was needling at him. "Why aren't you running now?"
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A defense mechanism, she figured, but one that worked, nonetheless.
Any word from Giles yet?
She checked her phone, even thouh she knew it was useless. She'd set it to vibrate and ring, just on the offchance that she didn't hear it in all this-- Well, silence.
"Nope, nothing," she shook her head, "I tried leaving a message on Dawn's cell but all I got was a 'not in service' message." She tried not to let herself think that maybe something was seriously wrong but after everything that'd happened--
Buffy frowned, "They'll be okay, right? I mean... They've got a bunch of newly minted Slayers right there with them. And Faith." But not me, a little voice inside was taunting her. Buffy tried her best to push it back, to believe what she'd said herself, and crossed the room to take one of the crossbows from the cabinet. It wasn't hers but it'd do.
"You hang around with Buffy long enough and your virgin status disappears quite fast," said Anya, smiling at him as he loaded things. He really was quite able to distract her that way. By... Well, moving. He had nice arms and a nice--
The closest we ever got was when the Devil's Gate opened, maybe that time in Oregon when we really did think we were gonna die...
Anya glanced back at his face when he said that, the set of his jaw. She wondered, then, what'd happened. In Oregon. She knew about the deal, of course, he'd told her about the gates to Hell opening... But the look on his face told her that that night, right then, he'd maybe faced the biggest thing they'd ever faced. They'd come up against an apocalypse and maybe he'd wanted to run then. He wasn't running now, but then again, neither was she.
Of course, when Dean asked her that? Anya paused, dropping the last box of ammo in the bag. "It isn't obvious?" He gave her a look then. A look that told her that no, it wasn't obvious, and that he needed it explained. Quickly.
"Do you know what it's like to wander around life, stumbling from day to day with no purpose? I do. I did that for months, trying to find out who I was, why I was here if it wasn't to be Mrs. Xander Harris and... I didn't like it, Dean. It wasn't pleasant. And then--Then, the apocalypse came. The last one. And I had something, something to fight for. And then I died."
She paused a second, staring at him, "I should be more upset about that, I suppose, but... I got brought back. For you. I have purpose now, I think, because of you. I could run right now, I don't think you'd stop me but... Life's not much worth living if you have no purpose and if I left... I wouldn't have that any more, would I?"
She glanced at the next cabinet over, wondering whether they'd need that ammo too, and looked back at him. "It helps that you're pretty. And good in bed. You make it very hard to leave when I know what you can do with your mouth," she grinned.
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They'll be okay, right?
Sam looked up at that question, at the tinge of fear she was trying to keep hidden under her words, but she had her back to him as she examined a crossbow in her hands.
"Hey," he said gently, trying to pull her attention back to him, and when he finally turned her gaze to his, he continued, "they'll be fine. They are fine." He gave her a small, reassuring smile as he added, "Hell, they're probably safer than we are right now."
He felt guilty that Buffy was here with him worrying about her sister. As much as he loved having her here by his side, she really should have been with her sister when the apocalypse started.
He went over to her as the frown stayed on her lips, placing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently to him. "We'll hear from them soon enough," he said with a nod, trying his best to quiet his own fears about their safety as he kissed the top of her head. "Poor Giles is probably just swamped with teenage girls right now," he grinned down at her.
"Why aren't you running now?" Dean watched as Anya gave him a quizzical look, dropping a box of ammo into her bag.
Isn't it obvious?
Not to him, no, because honestly, he couldn't see why she wasn't taking her chance at a quick exit. Hell, if the world was ending, it didn't matter if he got twelve months or not. They may not even have twelve more months; the world could end in a week for all they knew. This was a get out of jail free card if he ever saw one. It wasn't that he wantd her to pick up and go--especially considering he liked having her around to even out the SamBuffy factor--but he could understand the need to get the hell out of dodge.
Do you know what it's like to wander around life, stumbling from day to day with no purpose?
He didn't but that was only because he was born with a purpose. Hutn evil, revenge mom, keep his brother safe. His life was nothing but one big purpose. He couldn't imagine not having a purpose, and maybe that's what scared him the most about losing Sam. Without Sam, he had no purpose. He was nothing.
I got brought back. For you. I have purpose now, I think, because of you.
And that stopped him in his tracks. He was someone's purpose? Someone's reason to keep fighting? It'd been the other way around for so long, he didn't even know what to do with that knowledge.
And before his own insecurities could weigh him down, she joked about him being pretty and good in bed, and he would never tell anybody or else he'd be going soft like his brother, but he was suddenly very glad this girl randomly showed up in his life.
"I am completely irresistible," he smirked at her before catching her by her waist and bringing them close enough together for him to kiss her deeply. And when he finally pulled away, he winked at her and grinned, "Not so bad yourself, by the way."
He tapped her playfully on the rear again before reaching for two more rifles and loading them into his bag.
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"You mean 'cause they're not smack in the middle of Zombie-Ground-Zero?" Buffy asked, still frowning. It should have made her feel better, sure. And Sam was trying, she'd give him that, but right now... Buffy's spidey senses were a-okay, other than the honking aroma of Apocalypse.
There was nothing here. No humans, no zombies, nothing otherwise unwordly just quiet, eerie. And as much as that set her teeth on edge? She'd prefer zombies, providing they weren't chowing down on her sister.
She felt Sam beside her before she'd even realized he'd moved, frowned a little as she realized how way off her game she was. She let herself be pulled into his arms though, her fears somewhat allayed at the look on Sam's face. Wheter he believed it or not, he gave a good show - one Buffy was grateful for.
"You're right," she nodded, "He's probably freaking out at the amount of girls he's talked himself into training. Or freaking out at the amount of bathroom-hogging going on."
God, she hoped that were true. She'd have to deal with the alternative if it came to it and she really, really didn't want to.
"You look surprised," Anya pointed out, watching him for a moment after he'd swatted her on the butt again and had kissed her. She'd noted yesterday that whenever she got close to talking about things of uncomfortableness, Dean had a tendency of clamming up.
She didn't mind that - knew from Buffy and her reluctance to talk about anything of substance (especially with her) that it was a defence mechanism, something that helped her cope when she'd run out of vampires to sleep with or beat up.
Dean was no different and, joking about his abilities in bed and the things he could do with his mouth aside, Anya was starting to think that it was maybe a little strange for him. This whole 'I have purpose because of you' thing.
"You are quite irresistible, though," she admitted, "whoever brought me back obviously sees that in you too. Though if you start having sex with them, I won't be quite so pleased."
And it was funny how a throwaway comment such as that one could make her stomach burn a little with a nauseous feeling. Very unpleasant. "Not that I think you'll find many people to sleep with in this part of town, unless you're into dead people that try to eat your face..."
She shuddered at that one. "Where are we headed next, the library?" At least there she could feel somewhat useful. Here, she didn't know what she needed ammo-wise and she hadn't even seen a pitchfork, yet.
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You look surprised.
He'd hoped he had hid that well enough, but obviosuly, he hadn't. He cleared his throat as he shrugged, his voice casual as he spoke, "Just not used to being someone's purpose, I guess. Tends to be the other way around."
He reached for the second bag of rifles and handguns that he had left on top of the display case, and he smirked at how she mentioned not liking the idea of him sleeping with someone else.
"No worries about that one, sweetie," he grinned at her as she zipped up her bag of ammo, hefting it onto her shoulder.
"Library is definitely a good plan. Let's find the other half of this team and kick up some gravel while we still have daylight to burn."
He started towards the back of the store, Anya at his side.
"I don't like it when you call it Zombie Ground Zero," Sam teased as he gave her one final squeeze before walking back over to the knife case and loading up his bag.
"Toss anything you like in the bag," he said as he watched her go back to selecting a crossbow.
"You realize those are equipped for arrows and not actual stakes, right?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow as he and Anya joined Sam and Buffy.
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From the corner of her eye she noted Dean and Anya, both looking pretty happy with themselves.
You realize those are equipped for arrows and not actual stakes, right? Dean asked.
"First, I give you a 'duh'," said Buffy, smiling slightly, "And I'm willing to give up my stakes for flying fatality."
"I didn't find a sword," Anya huffed a little, "Or a pitchfork."
Although this wasn't exactly their speciality or anything, she guessed. More your regular hunting thing like guns and knives and oh, what she would not give for raiding Giles' weapons cabinet downstairs. "Did you hear anything from Giles yet?"
"Not yet," Buffy deliberately kept her voice light, "Sam just pointed out how likely it is that Giles is having a funny aneurysm at how many girls he's dealing with right now."
"He never did have any patience, really," said Anya, smiling to herself, "We're heading to the library now if you're finished collecting weapons?" She looked hopefully at Sam. Whereas Buffy was quite content with her crossbow, Sam seemed a lot like his brother in that weapons hunting could take him weeks. Months, even.
Much like herself and Buffy, only with clothes.
"I'm good," Buffy held up the crossbow, nodding. She'd collected a few boxes of arrows from the cabinet Sam had picked the lock on a few minutes ago. Content with her choice, she stowed it in the bag, ready for her not-so-favorite part of the hunt.
Research. Oh, how she wished she could skip the research and go straight into something she was good at, like, beating something up.
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"Yeah," he said with a nod of his own. "Knives as well as some backup flashlights and batteries. Don't really like the idea of zombies sneaking up on me in the dark."
"I second that," Dean said, lifting the one bag in his hands. "We got enough firepower here to make our last stand at the Alamo."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Dude, the Alamo was a horrible bloodbath that technically the bad side won." He added with a disbelieving smirk, "American History 101? Did you even attend?"
Dean returned the smirk with a cocky look of his own. "No, Urkel, I was too busy getting some ass behind the bleachers. Let's go." With that, he turned and started out of the store.
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