"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.
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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