Killing sprees, huh? That's so last season.
[Buffy sighs, and the journal picks up the gentle clinking of glasses.] Well, I'm a bit more used to--y'know--beating up bartenders for info but now that I am one? Hmm. If anyone's got some juicy knowledge on the murders, swing by Good Spirits and give a girl a hand with her investigating, okay?
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I know, right? But it's perfect. You should really come try it.
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All right, so what's in this McCoy, anyway?
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[She's not even sure they have that drink in the future but damn it, it's funny to her.]
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From slayer to bartender. Hm.
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Buffy frowns--that's not a cool surprise, Cullen.]
I'm still a Slayer. Just a bartender, too. Think of me like a hybrid.
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I suppose that means the Slaying season must be at an all time low.
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Something like that. Kinda makes it tough when you vamps insist on going "veggie".
[Yes she used air-quotes.]
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So, between one moment and the next, Derek manages to pull a trick worthy of the mutual prey he shares with the slayer and just be there in that seat. Right there.
But he'll also stay quiet and simply watch the world around him (and be putting his sensitive hearing to good use) until he's noticed.]
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Hey, stranger.
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Hey. How's it going?
[A careful sip tells him he likes it enough to be willing to nurse it to the last drop.]
Pretty good, there.
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'ello Buffy. How's business been for you?
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