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.
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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